DELPHIA
The cat sith rubbed it's face briefly against her hand before disappearing into thin air - more phantom than feline.
Though the woman sought a binary, those who flowed between, neither fully living nor dead, passing to and fro within the worlds of both Mort and Vi called these woods home. Such was her quarry. As the lantern light drew closer, their eyes would behold a strange sight. Lanterns circled a grave, far too large for it to be of a Fae. Upon the stone lay flowers, wilted to near dust. It had been cared for once upon a time, but seasons of neglect left it moss covered. Still, Anju would just be able to make out the words, "Circe Thanatos, Beloved Mother of Divine Sacrifice, Priestess of Death, Blessed by Mort Eternal"
Perhaps stranger still though was the decayed corpse laying atop the grave.
Skin dried taut to bone, whethered by seasons past. Sunken eyes framed by long black tresses that yet clung to a delicate scalp, frail frame drowned in a worn dark robe. And yet, the near mummified remains of the woman looked strangley alive, as though she but slumbered peacefully upon the grave. Between skeletal fingers, a small scrap of paper remained. Should Anju open it, she would find written, "If you have found this place, then my rest with my father is at an end. Please wake me."
Though the woman sought a binary, those who flowed between, neither fully living nor dead, passing to and fro within the worlds of both Mort and Vi called these woods home. Such was her quarry. As the lantern light drew closer, their eyes would behold a strange sight. Lanterns circled a grave, far too large for it to be of a Fae. Upon the stone lay flowers, wilted to near dust. It had been cared for once upon a time, but seasons of neglect left it moss covered. Still, Anju would just be able to make out the words, "Circe Thanatos, Beloved Mother of Divine Sacrifice, Priestess of Death, Blessed by Mort Eternal"
Perhaps stranger still though was the decayed corpse laying atop the grave.
Skin dried taut to bone, whethered by seasons past. Sunken eyes framed by long black tresses that yet clung to a delicate scalp, frail frame drowned in a worn dark robe. And yet, the near mummified remains of the woman looked strangley alive, as though she but slumbered peacefully upon the grave. Between skeletal fingers, a small scrap of paper remained. Should Anju open it, she would find written, "If you have found this place, then my rest with my father is at an end. Please wake me."
the song is ended
but the melody lingers on
but the melody lingers on
