Darkness and then…
Her heart beat once more.
Pounding, pounding, pounding. Pushing her blood through her veins, into her extremities, coloring her pale flesh once more as she took in the damp, earthy scents around her. An open grave? A catacomb? No, as her eyes remained closed, she could hear them. The voices of others, laughing self-depreciatingly about their latest death. The voices of others, speaking without emotion, bidding them farewell. Human sounds, treating death as nothing but a fleeting dream. Young immortals, aimless in their ambitions and seeking only entertainment without consequence, no greater goal beyond their amusement and their fantasies.
Oh, but such emptiness was the privilege of those in power, wasn’t it? She had bore witness to it so many times before, after all. The rotting flesh of those who still saw themselves as talented, riding on thermals that launched them high above others. The bulbous malignant growths upon those rich enough that their body no longer mattered, the depths of the coffers enough to sate their lust. The absolute assurance that death held no great sway over them. It truly was a decadent garden that the Elysid had crafted, wasn’t it? One of pleasure and violence, designed to adhere to the whims of the mighty, a world where failure was hardly expected, where loss never came in an uncontrollable flood.
All so their little toys could continue to live like the gods themselves, submerged in stagnant bliss, satisfied simply with watching their powers increase solely by breathing.
How putrid. How horrid. How hilariously wretched and painfully boring.
She opened her eyes, rolled off the marble slab upon which a new body had been constructed for her, and smiled, her onyx boots clacking against the consecrated floor. Whose temple was this? Synra? Iedi? Tria? Kali? Ezzan’Rel? Or something yet unnamed, an unknown power that pulled souls away from their ultimate end for obscured reasons?
It mattered not.
She would not ruin the enjoyment of another deity.
Not until she could tear them wholly off their lofty throne and feed them to the worms.
An azure lady bid her farewell, but those words were left unheard as the darkness of the Morgue was replaced by the brilliance of day. A bustling city, a bright sun, a blue sky. Merchants hawked their wares, while children gawked at her aberrant form, pointing before being pulled off by their parents. The living goddess smiled and waved as their small frames disappeared in the seething crowds, before turning skywards.
One deep breath.
It tasted of vibrancy and tranquility, fresh flowers and baked bread.
And she screamed, the cry of a goddess of uninhibited desires, her voice surpassing distance, reaching past the clouds and digging deep into the earth, echoing, echoing, echoing.
The stares of the proles intensified, bewilderment, confusion, and irritation mixed together at the unsightly display, but Shulgana cared not.
After all, only the living could appreciate a deviation from the norm.
~~~
The cry was heard.
Below the emperor’s castle, the Defier turned.
Before the serpent’s corpse, the Drunkard grinned.
Beneath the reversed tower, the Absolver continued.
Between broken monuments, the Artificer kneeled.
Behind the sanctified veil, the Saint prayed.
Beside the executioner’s axe, the Elegist remembered.
The cry was heard.
The cry was answered.
![[IMG]](https://i.imgur.com/pQGriWl.png)
