HE is ruler over his land. He dresses himself in black. Night bows to him, and not one soul is not afraid of him. He called himself the Black Lord, yet his true identity is hidden. He is harsh and unjust. Mercy is a word that is not to be said in his presence, for the bearer of it will be shown none. His days are filled with darkness, and no one stands under his gaze.
She is a simple rogue. She has never been part of any group, for her light shines too brightly for some to bear. She has never fit in. She carries graceful movement and light steps. Her clothes hang loosely on her body, and her black hair is smoother than silk.
But alas, her eyes are filled with pain, and her heart carries troubles. She longs for Him, not yet knowing who are what he is. She knows he exists, yet she is afraid to wonder.
He knows not about love, and she is abandoned in his mind. He does not know about her, yet when he sees her, it will be the end, if not for him, then for her.
