Lenneth as a Dark Goddess
It's been eating my brain, so here it is. Yes, I know, logically it can't happen....but you explain logic to the non-existent person.
It was a palace, made of black marble, veined through with silver like smoke. It spiraled upward, like a mountain, and to those who knew what it truly meant it was a frightening monument. Down its halls skulls were used to hold candles, their mouths gaping in seeming grins. And she walked among them, her motion causing the flames to dim as if in fear. It was an odd reaction, but something caused the very light, any natural light, to dim in her presence as though she breathed a breath of death across it.
Death was a natural part of the world, but this woman who called Death to her like some kind of cherished pet was unnatural. Her steps down the halls made no sound, but her presence might as well have been a bell ringing through the halls. Slow, languid, easy steps that carried her in the direction of the throne room. Draped in crimson silk and black leather, she walked with her hands clasped before her, a pensive expression across her features. A man, his clothing making him little better than a shadow, appeared at elbow and matched her gait two steps behind.
"My Goddess," he intoned before he could even begin to bring her the real reason that he dared to make himself known in her presence before she had fed. One hand flickered out in his direction, perect nails flashing in the dim lights. That was his signal that he could continue speaking. "You have a guest."
"I know he's here," the voice that issued from her throat had an undertone to it, an echo as though she were speaking up out of a canyon. "Bring him to the throne room. I hunger."
The throne room was packed, standing room only, but it was silent, only the whisper of breathing letting anyone know at all that there was anyone in the room at all. The vaulted ceiling high above was held up by architecture that looked like bone. At one end of the room, her throne dominated, 13 steps up from the floor. The stairs to the throne settled down at an altar, a basalt slab that ringed by a moat to carry away the blood of the sacrifice. When she entered and looked up toward the throne, the bodies in the room moved out of her path with military precision, opening a space for her to walk. There were those who feel to their knees as she passed, reaching out to let the edge of her crimson robes drift over their fingertips in hopes of receiving her blessing. The Dark Goddess entered her domain with her head held high. At one, she did stop, pressing her palm to the top of one of her adherents. The woman fainted dead away and she was gathered up by others, taken away from her place at the Mistress's feet.
When she reached the altar, she turned and looked back at those who stood, waiting for the sound of her voice.
"My children," her voice moved over the crowd, slipping into their ears, and bringing every eye to her. "My beloved," her eyes alone moved to the right of the altar, to the one who had come to visit her. "My hunger waits."
The doors opened again and someone was dragged, down the aisle, dragged by a chain around their throat to the altar that waited for them.
"Come to me," now she was oriented on the single person whose life was about to be given to her as a sacrifice. One hand, so soft, so sweet. And he was caught in it, caught in her eyes and her touch. Such a lure and he came across the altar toward her. It was then that the blade appeared, flashing in the low lights across his throat. It spilled over the edge of the steel collar and he seemed to notice nothing at all. No, instead he continued to crawl toward her until she placed her hand against his face and gently pushed him back. She did not have to force him to lie, his chest exposed to the air. Nor did he even show shock, just an overwhelming joy it seemed, as she cut into his chest and removed his slowing heart. The rest of his body would be nothing more than meat, cooked and feasted upon by her children. The heart, the seat of all magic, was hers to eat and eat it she did, raw before them all. Heart's blood, nearly black, staining her face and down her bodice.
The blood fed her, the meat fed her, her followers and their adoration of her fed her, it was all that she required to continue to exist, this dark religion that she surrounded herself with. The island had fallen to her and though she could have done more, destroyed more, for now; she was content. For now, she was willing to allow those who lived outside of her walls to continue to live. So long as they were not stupid and bothered either her followers or herself.
The Demos were still by all name Kings of the Beyond, though they knelt to her when it came time. The Mehrites had long since been wiped out, every member of their blood, it would not due for a Goddess to have her former masters still walking about. What humans were not a part of her religion huddled together as far out of her reach as possible. Let them wallow in their fears. She had no use for them at the moment, perhaps later. And the elves, those that were left bore the mark of her taint. Rot had spread across the land, it hardly supported those who lived upon it, much less the magics that had once sustained it. Did this make her an evil goddess? Perhaps. Did she care anymore? Of course not.
Syn had said kill off all weakness. It had begun with the familial ties, those things that made her human. Her cousin. Keats. Her Mother. Father. The entire family. Then Syn himself. That had been a battle worth repeating. Each of them capable of rising armies, but in the end, she was prevailed, taking the life of the vampire that had been her mentor in darkness. It still made her smile just a little to remember it. He had met death unblinking, one of those honorable deaths he had so looked for. Lenneth settled back on her throne and watched as the body was taken away and her followers filed out. Gone until only one figure remained in the room with her.
"You returned," her words had lost that echo, as if the human side of her were peeking out. A rare occurrence indeed. "I did not think you would."