At times, I must enquire of myself to what extent these inhabitants of the Wyrden Wood are loyal. Many come from beyond our borders, claiming enthralment and the desire to serve. To what extent, however, does the Dark Forest call to them? At what level does the sheer glory of the Wyrd, rather than the temptation of personal gain in one of the most powerful nations of the Basin of Life, influence the decision of these souls of questionable worth to immigrate? Alas, only our Great Spirits can determine this.

My Prince of Darkness approaches me as the sun sets this eve and I am scribing missives in the Mother's name within my study-chambers. Thick can be the silence within the depths of the Halls of the Conquering Darkness, but the sounds that break it, such as the raps upon my chamber door, oddly never seem to be startling.

With a quick inhalation, the powerful Scent of the Wolf Totem introduces my visitor. Rising from my ravenwood seat, the silken train of my robes whispers over the stone floor as I move to unlock the door for the shadowy figure waiting on the other side of the spider-image stained glass.

I return to my desk as the Prince enters, closing the door behind him before turning and bowing before me. “My Queen,” he greets.

Folding my hands delicately as I turn to my fellow Coven royal, I incline my head respectfully as I greet, “Dark tidings, my Prince. For what purpose has my work been disturbed?”

The Prince apologizes, “Forgive me, Queen. There is a matter of which I thought you would want to know. I was contacted today by the elfen Elinder, who wishes to be un-enemied to the Coven.”

I silently raise an eyebrow, waiting for further details.

“He wishes to return to Glomdoring and to the service of Mother Night.”

My eyes grow chilled, touched with a darkness that only servants of Night know. “He is a traitor, is he not? Years ago, he forsook Mother Night and Glomdoring for the folly of Moon and the Northern Forest. What reason has he given you for his -- once-again -- change of heart?”

The Prince calmly smooths the front of his robe before replying, “He claims that he has learnt many details of Serenwilde that could be useful to our... tactics. He claims that he has heard a prophecy from the Moon Spirit that would be of great interest to us, and offers to share the words in exchange for pardon.”

My tone is hollow as I assert, “He is arrogant in surmising that he is in any position to barter with us.” I pause. “However... we shall take his information, and decide what to do with him afterwards.”

“As you wish, my Queen.” The Prince bows once more, before sweeping from my chambers and closing the door quietly behind him.

Returning to the rear of my desk, I sit and retrieve my elaborate athame from its surface, a ritual blade gifted to me by Mother Night herself some years past. With another inhalation, I catch the scent of the Dark Regent of Glomdoring somewhere in the northeastern part of the forest.

- Dark Regent, have you a moment? - I inquire telepathically.

- Yes, Queen, what do you need?- she replies.

- My Prince informs me that a Moondancer seeking to return to us, by the name of Elinder, is offering a prophecy in exchange for pardon. It will supposedly be of great interest to us. -

- I see. I'll leave you to deal with that part, but trust that you will share the prophecy with the Shadow Court.-

- Of course, Dark Regent. Though we shall take measures to ensure that he speaks truth. -

- I'll leave that to you and Mother Night as well, Queen. -

- Very well, - I reply, and release the contact.

Leaning back in the chair, I run my finger idly over the flat of my athame's blade, tracing the intricate carvings and etched symbols. Even from an untrustworthy source, it is never prudent to ignore the prophecies of the Spirits -- but indeed, Mother Night shall aid me to determine whether or not this traitor speaks truth. He shall not enjoy what follows if he is found to be false.