There was never any doubt between the siblings that while they tolerated each other, perhaps even held some modicum of respect, in the end, they were out for themselves. Matianak did what suited her and Blackthorne did what suited him. It was only their methods that differed. She was a poison, slinky and cunning, whereas he was an atom bomb, choosing a place to explode and leaving it radioactive. It had always been that way with them. She fed off him as much as he fed off her knowledge; chaos and misery. What a hypnotic combo.

It is not entirely surprising to the Darkbringer that his sister is as of yet un-mated. Much like him, she was too full of darkness and games to desire such a thing as love and affection. Blackthorne had enjoyed the company of Gazmala and Eve – no doubt he would have sampled even more fare. Eve had become his companion in Iromar with her wicked and violent tastes but since his return he had caught no scent of hers. Where the poison-eyed lady had disappeared to he had no clue. What a shame. She would have enjoyed the games he was about to begin.

”That they would,” he agrees deviously. Even if his sister had a lover, he doubted she would tell him much, lest he use such a weakness against her. She had children, same as he, which was enough of a crux.

He is met with a rather bland answer and altogether disappointing. Silver lips turn down in a frown. At least he would not have to deal with the meddlesome pair. Still, it is disconcerting how many of the original players in his last game have vanished, wraiths that screamed in distraught yet evaporated when left alone. It was yet more proof to him that his chaos was necessary. Desired even. What did they live for without his fangs?

Matianak reports on Diveen, her sigh a giveaway of her own lack of interest due to the stable climate. He grins at her, mischief dancing across charcoal eyes. It widens to something positively diabolical at her further instructions. She was a wealth of information when she had it and when she knew he could inspire more. ”Why indeed,” he hisses out, mind casting out on rumors and thoughts. Eden had never concerned the Darkbringer and he had never bothered with the man’s children… but if they were the key, well, what was more destruction? Better yet, if he could pin it on Arturio.

Mention of his absent sister has his attention sharpening once more though his grin morphs into a scowl. His mood is mecurial at best, violent at worst, and wherever Natiya had gotten off to seemed to be the same spot every other wolf had. Zharko, Natiya, Eve, Gazmala, and all his various other followers. Their purpose was with him – without him they were gone. ”Do not fret for our sister, Matianak,” he quips, as if she is the one who inquired and not he. ”It will not be long before I uncover her and the other mysteries of this dying place. Do you suppose it will make one last scream as I choke the life from it?” He tilts his head quizzically. ”You look bored, sister, so I ask you… are you ready to assist me in my assault?”