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[Azreal Lu`Rael]

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An eye gazes through midnight as the performance continues, decaying shackles of old clang in the dark providing song to an audience of one*

"I still see you...", a voice echoes gently through the crevice. "I see through and within, your most favorite sin."

"Patience... Impatience... Patience.. Impatience", a voice speaks as pedals fall within a minds eye.

The scene with no conclusion fades, as the stage is set.

"You fight so hard...", as words are spoken a maniacal laughter erupts in the void. "Can you succeed despite my little seed? Do you really wish to see what lies beneath if you shun my sheath? There is pleasure and peace in the dark, there is peace in the emptiness of thought."

A figure beings to manifest in the nether

"Things have changed, I see more clearly then ever I could, I say this even now with a bow.

The figure bows with an obvious arrogance as it continues to speak.

“The doorman pounds twice sounding the alarm, but do be at ease for I –truly- mean you no harm. Trumpets shall sound soon, calling out my crimson moon, pity you shall not be there but within your room."

The figure regains its posture and moves its hands slowly about the air, accenting its words as it speaks.

“The land requires new gods to clear away the corpses of old, so says this little voice from the chilling cold. As I progress I cannot help but think of how some transgress, truly disheartening I must confess, it is a pity I shall now have to make a mess.”

A ray of moonlight begins to fall gently upon the figure, as the cold rays fall something begins to glisten in its ill light.

“Can you see it now this night? My great mercy blackened by moonlight?"

An alter slowly materializes in this forest scene, a decaying corpse upon its surface disembolwed and decapitated, trails of blood trailing down the surface marking that which was but is no more. Hunks of flesh, which once were limbs, now litter the ground as if gnawed and torn apart by some fiend.

“Do you see it? How I ascend within it?”

Peering through the thick darkness the scene begins to unfold with a subtle increase of light. Upon the trees, painted in blood, various necromantic symbols can be seen positioned about the makeshift alter's area. The figure begins to gently run its fingertips across what remains of the corpse, what can be seen of its face seems to contort into something like a smile as its hand collects maggots in its wake.

“I am the thorn in the foot, I am the blur in the sight.
I am the worm at the root, the thief in the night.
I am the rat in the wall, the leper that leers at the gate
I am the ghost in the hall, herald of horror and hate
I am the rust on the corn, I am the smut on the wheat
Laughing man's labor to scorn, weaving a web for his feet.
I am canker and mildew and blight, danger and death and decay
The rot of the rain by night, the blast of the sun by day
I warp and wither with drought, I work in the swamp's foul yeast
I bring the black plague from the south and leprosy in from the east
I am the shrill cold spirit that chills the darkness you feel after dark
I am the chaos that tears stars apart.
You cannot escape me
You cannot defeat me
You can only embrace me”

The figure pauses a moment and continues to speak.

“Words of divinity now sung, my great lord surely pleased, but I have only just begun. Your blessings you now may count as your dues have been paid in full amount. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust, a soul for a soul paid at dusk.”

The figure gracefully pulls his hand away from the corpse and steps forward a pace, his other still clouded in the thick darkness.

“Do you see how great I have now become? You whom refused to succumb? Witness the birth of a new God, soon to shepherd with his new rod. I have come now to preach, I have come now to teach.”

As the scene comes to its end a great chill falls upon the set as all light now begins to fade save for one, pouring dimly upon the remaining figure.

"Everything is all right now so lay thy your pretty head, as I now have this mans stinking head. I have now said my little piece and now I bid rest in peace my good sir, Ragnar Teach.”, the scene is illuminated as the figure raises its hidden hand and shoves what remains of the festering head before Mollys sweet little face.

As final words are uttered the entire event begins to replay before a minds eyes in all its intricate horror. The smell of blood and mildew, the sounds of tearing flesh, a mans screams echoing in the night praying for an end that would not come this night.

Azreals eyes slowly open and with this ending and begaining a new nightmare. His face warms slightly with a smile as he twirls a rose gently between his fingers tips.

“How mercful I truly am..."

[Molly]

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A scream catches in her throat as she awakes in terror, afraid to move. She sighs softly as she sees Ragnar laying next to her. She gently nuzzles against the back of his head and whispers softly. Are you awake? As she does the head of her beloved rolls away. Terror grips her, she lets out a blood curdling scream fainting with the head of her husband laying among the flowers and pillows of their room.
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Grand Duchess Molly Kaldhel
Oracle of Truth
The House Gauntlet
Sanctus, Luna, Malas
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xXoGDbJ5nLU
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"In politics, if you want anything said, ask a man. If you want anything done, ask a woman."
-Margaret Thatcher-