[Inkoven]

You're dying, Lamia.

The end draws near for Atheleon's Once-Knight. 

It looms o'er head the faux-Caian.

Tauntingly.

Enticingly. 

It was inevitable.
Wasn't his own death?

XXXV

Runes grew to cover the flesh of a woman unseen for the past nigh-decade. She returns scaled and strange, donning the attire of an Aphrosian.
Hair once dark as night, disheveled by a chaotic way of life lays flat and grey. Eyes once a piercing ebon have grown milky, unfocused. Wings of bone creak wearily, like the settling frame of a guillotine. She treks on, tired, scared to go home. Along the way she wonders if her life was one well-spent, if following her heart was worth it.
tic-tic-t-
There is little time to ponder and muse with the final hour upon her.
Each vengeful step brings her closer to the would-be massacre.

Bites arrives to Atheleon.
Little else but SPITE sustains her as she seeks to cleanse its Anwar-scourge or die trying. 

"Ad Astra per Aspera," right..?
To reach any height, the stars of Athelios will have to get through her;
their strife made manifest.

Their Aspera.

. . .

Chainverb until DEATH with Atheleon faction members Sunday, time TBD.

[Inkoven]

Friday 7pm Est.*