A Consequential Arrival Who: Elfleda. What: The consequences of this.
There was no water. Nor was there even air. Not physically. It was all an etheric facsimile of the same. A make-believe of the mind's eye, in realms such as these.
Ice... Ice could burn like fire, like acid. Engulfed within the emerald flame, the moment Rhiannon Lee had ignited her gift, her weapon, for use, the instrument's benefactor could sense it. Could feel the hunger, could feel its use.
Yes, the vampire burned. Burned through from one dimension to another and was found burning, still, within the imprisoning solidity of something like freezing honey. Freezing cold, freezing hot; beyond a certain threshhold, it felt like the same.
And there she was, approaching through the murk. A figure of white clothed in regal black. Someone whose presence could be felt with a somehow magnetic draw, like a whirlpool capturing one's very imagination. Someone whose very aura seemed to wash the more painful sensations away, anchoring him to the reality of the situation.
"We don't get many of your kind here... You're named the undead for good reason."
In this place, her voice carried more weight than it might have on Earth. There was something almost motherly about her, felt as the cell's invasive hold smoothly drained away, leaving the vampire naked and dripping with something glue-like. As she floated closer, it was as if her proximity washed it away. A cleansing effect, oddly familial.
"I speak for the Black Light," she introduced, head slightly bowing. For reasons unknown, the vampire felt as if it was he who should be bowing. "And you are the first, chosen by my Executioner's hand."
Black lips smiled and a maternal arm slipped around his shoulders, leading him away.
"Now, tell me... What would you be willing to sacrifice for the chance to return?"