Aya 'Delphi' Nehebtuan's page

The day leading up to the Deathcap's arrival
Delphi knew that she'd have to figure out the modern world quickly, everything was so different from when she was last around. The sheer density of people alone made it difficult to walk with her own thoughts, though people seemed to give her a fair berth to do her business.

She managed to squirrel away into an alleyway before the events were to go down and working feverishly got the device she'd been given to give up some information verbally. Her hands shook after her efforts and setting up the guide she followed it expediently towards the third of the listings Samantha had provided her knowing a short wait and a warm meal would await her.

That night, just before the quarantine began Delphi moved around the others who were misplaced here, she could not see their faces but still she felt drawn to their fates. Stopping near one an older woman she knelt down and gently grabbed her hand a fist full of dollars within. She needed a puppet someone who could act in this world.

"The prophet sees you she hears your plight. Eight thirty beyond noon in two days time, 8th and Powell street, the glittering shamrock shall begin your salvation."

Her mother once told her it only took a feather's touch to spill the ink.

During the assault of the Deathcap

Delphi sat in warmer much more comfortable clothing, having gotten something better than rags from the apartment she'd slipped into. She had seen what was to come, but even still there was a being in this fight she could not account for. A paradox, living and breathing in a stable-ish state.

So she watched from a nearby rooftop, eating the second half of a luke-warm sandwich. The food this era of peons developed it was good 'acceptable'. She grimaced, on the edge of the quarantine zone. There was a wide area still designated to keep any civilians out, but Delphi could just avoid the blockades, hide exactly where the guards weren't going to look, and then enjoy the show close up.

She felt it several times throughout the engagement. The lurching of fate, invisible talons plucking the chords, a deadly game for an entire branch of reality. Strangely, even though she could feel the strand vibrating in a definably wrong pattern compared to the usual concert of the weave, it still beat in time with the rest of the proverbial cosmic web.

The paradox was hiding it's movement within the steps of grander beings. So long as it did not wiggle it's thread too much, sliding from one doomed time to another where it could thrive for just a bit longer was barely going to upset the true weavers.

"Clever... little beast." She called towards the Deathcap as it shuddered and began moving upwards barely a speck of dirt exiting it's underside and plummeting towards tera firma. "I'll have to keep you safe. You'd be the death of everything were to you get the bit."

Delphi continued to watch for a few moments, but then strode inside to see what else she could acquire from this domicile before she had to leave.

Samantha bristled at the sudden violence that flowed so effortlessly. But it was over before her reactions could match. Chronknight seemed unhurt, so she nodded to the other girl's request "This way" she says as she lead her through the station in the most most expedient pathway. She had plenty of work to do and wanted to get back to it.

Delphi follows along on the way out, as they approach the end of their journey upward and outward her steps become slower, the pangs of hunger reaching her again. The meal she had was so little earlier and her stomach threatened to growl in protest.

She looked not quite at where Samantha tugged her along, managing to not stumble on tracks or anything again. "Once... in a life past, so far that I almost forget... I wish I could forget." The prophetess started, showing weakness, which she looked very uncomfortable about.

"I thought I could use my 'gifts' to rewrite all the bad in the world. To change the fates ofmany who were undeserving of their low lot in life. That I could outsmart fate itself, due to my ability to read it." She lets out a small quiet sigh, "But all I learned was that those who can read the weave are not the same as those who spin the silk. We are but moths, tangled in the web waiting to be consumed."

The girl becomes tensely quiet for several moments, before taking a bracing breath through her nose.

"I cannot prevent what lies at the end of all lines." She hints of a dark honesty. "Nor can anyone, but it is good to have hope that you may. It is required to walk the line. I am simply here to be the... librarian, feels like a fitting term. Yes, to keep the tapestry clean and provide insight to those who are destined to need it."

Once they reach the point where they are to separate she takes Sam's hand tightly and goes stiff momentarily. "A terrible reckoning approaches you. An agent of darkness will come to fill a void, another librarian, they will not lead you astray. You 'must' trust them though their actions may seem heinous and cruel."

She relaxes and lets go of Sam. "I shall be in contact if a vision greets me about those close to you."

C&S: 2d6 + 1 ⇒ (5, 1) + 1 = 7

"...that was so cool I'm not even gonna redo that," Chroknight says as they lay flat on the floor for a few moments. "...Except nearly snapping my wrist, that kind of sucked."

They wait for another couple of appropriate moments before slowly kipping themselves up. "Okay, interesting...you baited me just as much as I was baiting you. That was awesome! Those moves aren't what I'd call normal for someone to know at your age..."

They think about Xaiara, and then Shayera, and then Andromeda. "...feel like there's too many bastards willing to experiment on kids to turn them into weapons."

"I was never meant to break your wrist." She tilts her head for a moment then says "Yet" flatly.

As Chroknight takes some time to get back up Delphi seems to frown preemptively speaking uncomfortably close to the end of what they say. "As it has always been, and as it shall continue forever more." Her tone carries an old hurt in it. "Samantha... please take me from this place."

Delphi takes the device and nods, then gently ushers Sam out of the way with the back of her hand several seconds before Chroknight arrives the 'first' time. The taughtness of the strands indicating the tangle's approach.

"A moment."

She guards her nose from Chroknight's antics.

Again..

That string laxes and another pulls tightly.

"A moment."

She guards her nose, then head from Chroknight's antics.

..Again..

Again the line is let loose, the next pulling almost to the point of snapping.

"A moment."

She guards her ear from Chroknight's antics.

Again...

All other pathways break and only one vibrant line lay open for the snarl.

"A moment."

She grabs Chroknight's wrist before they can point, steps uncomfortably close to Chroknight and turns outward. Bracing their leg to prevent Chro's own from traveling and pulling down hard on their wrist while utilizing their hip as a lever. She rolls the entirety of the armored knight over themselves and onto the floor, twisting the still held wrist uncomfortably with a strength much like Samantha earlier, uncharacteristic for her fragile frame.

"As I said, guard dogs."

Releasing Chroknight Delphi once again reaches for Sam's hand to be escorted.

"I will contact you, should I deem anything worthy of your time. Until then, I would like to have a few days of peace to myself. They are rather fleeting moments for me."

Delphi who despite being older(?) than Samantha isn't much bigger. Doesn't resist the sudden grab, her body barely tensing, weather because she's used to it or because she saw it coming is unclear.

"I don't need to place my thumb upon your strings to tell what desperation and loss does to someone."

She pulled her hand away and unfastened the last of the devices, "But for your service of escorting me. I'll do what I may to inform you of 'one' impending danger should I foresee one you might prevent."

There was a pause, "You'll have to inform me the best way to deliver this information to you however. As I very much doubt we'll be meeting like this again."

Samantha is distracted, not looking at the patient, but she keeps her hand out and answers anyway. "The instruments are medical analysis tools..." she explains each one with long names that would lose anyone other than a medical professional or a BIG fan of medical dramas.

and it is way too early for me to research the correct terms, sorry

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The clipped slightly pained tone tells Delphi that this Assistant is only doing this action because she cares about the armored one, that otherwise she would not be in this room with these devices.

The way the Assistant is dismissing her completely other than working on the problem she presented tells her that the girl's willingness to set her free and the ability to get influence over her are opposing goals. The Assistant does not want her there and would help free her with just a little push...

BUT

She is furiously working on how to best save people, aiding her in that is the quickest way to gain her trust or at least respect.

Being a real prophet would push her into the influence category. Convincing her that the prophecy is a fluke would push her to help get her out of there.

-----------

Interrupting her off hand descriptions of the devices, she calls out "I will" to a request Dephi cannot hear. assuming Indarius didn't yell it, instead knew Samantha would still be listening to the comms

Sitting quietly after the explaination the girl sifted through her options. None were optimal, but they all eventually lead to the same point, each simply moved the time table.

"You want for me to prove my abilities as a prophet correct? That way you don't have to second guess your own thoughts, so that you can use my abilities whenever they suit you, so that you can prevent further hurt to everyone. Well then let me prove it, I will leave this place."

She rattles off a few cases that even a beggar could assume then lays down her 'grand divination'.

"Proving my position as a prophet would mean you keep me here for 'observation'. But for how long? Until you know i'm safe, that you are safe, your loved ones? People who might yet be gone otherwise without your timely intervention?" Delphi hammered away at common insecurities that would be present in 'heroes'.

"But who then will save me if I'm just to be your songbird spoken to only for prevention of catastrophy. How long till the hero finally realizes they are the villain keeping someone against their will."

Delphi pulled her legs up and rest her chin on her knees looking vaguely towards Samantha. "If I try to force my way out, your various guard dogs will come to your aid. We both know they'll do more harm than necessary, and we will be taken from this place. I sit and wait until other 'real' heroes come to save me and I will leave this place. I feed you falsehoods and show I am no prophet and thus of no use to you, I leave this place."

She leans forward whispering now, [smaller]"I feed you every truth, every detail of every event you cannot prevent, every person you cannot save, of everyone you will lose. Until the weight of your failures drown you. Then I and I alone leave this place."

Leaning to sit straight again she continues in a flat tone which slowly turns down as she drones on. "If you think I'm lying ask the last few who have tried to keep me. You'll find no answers from the living. Because it's the same everytime. The spartans thought they enslaved the oracle of Delphi. But they chained themselves to their fate and died in droves. Odin the great and wise, thought he would outsmart the Norns but instead damned himself to his fate by trying to escape it. Many have done the same, all thinking they were smarter than fate itself."

Delicately reaching for the clip but not removing it from her finger yet she asks. "So, do you believe you're smart enough to outthink fate? Samantha?"

Provoke: 2d6 + 0 ⇒ (2, 6) + 0 = 8
Lead me out of this place, or take a condition

"Are you for real life a damn prophet?" Chroknight exclaims in shock and horror that the Deathcap would be arriving soon. "Damn. Guess that means I'm not taking tomorrow off." They try not to focus on the comments about them being an 'embolistic tangle'. "Okay, if that's the case...we got to keep you here on observation."

Chroknight's not 100% certain what's what in the medbay, but there's a nifty looking console labeled 'AUTODOC', so turning that on and asking it to examine Delphi's bed sounded about right. "Do you have precognitive moments often? That's got to be a headache - I've done that before and looking into the infinite stream of possibilities really messes you up. And I'm also realizing you might not know who I am. Chroknight, Halcyon hero and temporal agent. Oh, wait, is that what's causing your seizures? I'm by definition unpredictable, and your brain probably's going crazy trying to suss me out - hang on-"

They poke their head out. "Sam, I need you to come in here and hold this girl's hand. I think I might what's making her sick. Can you do that while calculating?"

There was something simultaneously terrifying and revolting about what this Chroknight said. Questioning if she was a prophet, then the pitiful threat of keeping her detained like some songbird, then the attempt to what reach some kind of common-ground by speaking of the strings of fate?

She couldn't reveal herself, not yet, still weakened from her relatively short slumber. But to put up with 'this'... coddling.

Delphi clenched her teeth and gave a long tired sigh, uncharacteristic for someone of her apparent age.

She foresees that should she try to resist the AUTODOC it would lead only to her becoming further restrained, so she cuts that thread and does not resist when the advanced 'for it's time' machinery begins clamping strange devices to her fingers. Blood oxygen monitors, basic health readouts, and the like.

She clams up however as Chroknight bombards her with further questions, seems this prophet know when they've given enough for what price has been offered.

Apparently ignoring everyone is excepted when it comes to Chronknight. "I can multitask." the girl gets up and sits next to the prophet, holding out her hand.

When the tangle leaves the immediate area she relaxes a bit, uncomfortable with the strange machinations touching her. Then another enters who's strings have also been splintered and frayed.

She does not return the gesture of reaching for Samantha's hand, though she looks at the younger girl, reminded of a time long ago when she would have gladly taken the hand offered by an assistant. She quickly turns away from those thoughts knowing the dark places they lead. Instead raising her own and turning it showing the clips taking her vitals.

"You've been afflicted by the tangle. What manner of machina is this?"
Ptm(Samantha): 2d6 + 0 ⇒ (4, 6) + 0 = 10
What do you indend to do? How could I get your character to set me free? How could I gain influence over you?

Coming back to this world Delphi's body relaxed on the table that wasn't pleasant due to her having just woken herself. It was never pleasant when her father forced his vision into her mind. The world slowly came back into focus with the large exception of the horrible tangle in the room with her, which made things near it distorted as well.

"No, but you." She said to the room with just her and Chroknight within before letting out a deep tired sigh. "I would implore you to make good on your offer to escort me from this place. I will do what I can to make it worth your effort. Though I'm unsure what to offer an embolistic tangle in the tapestry, if my telling is insufficient."

She seems to focus intently at the wall with the last words with half focused eyes. Woefully separated from whatever conversation is happening within Chroknight's helmet.

"Typically the reasoning of dullards and skeptics use to deny the truth of reason. Heed the warning or no it shall come to pass. Even if there are those among you that see me as little more than some nefarious Vizier or addled dreg."

Inspecting Delphi in the medical room shows that there are no wounds that indicate major accidental falls, but some recent bumps and scrapes likely from navigating the subway. Furthermore she has severe scaring across her eyes that looks like chemical burns of some sort. Those same burns are long healed.

Coming to in the med bay Delphi sucked in a harsh, ragged breath. "Mycelial vengence comes for the prized jewel, cast away from the great expanse. Rally as they may doom approaches."

"Hold up, my friends are asking me to ask you why you were in the tunnels." Chroknight stops and replies to Samantha.

"She's just a lost girl. Doesn't appear to be hurt. Likely was just exploring. I'm going to get her out of here and make sure she can't find her way back. I'll ask a couple questions, see if she might be in trouble here."

They turn down towards Delphi. "So, let me guess, your friends think you've got some kind of intuition and some of your predictions come true? Can't think of another reason someone would call you an oracle," They speak, trying to get her to be at ease around them. It seems like she's afraid of Chroknight, but probably because they're an armored shadow in the dim lighting.

"Let me help you back to the surface. Where's your neighborhood, Rustside? City Center? The Heights?"

Pierce the Mask: 9 What are you really planning?

Delphi tilted her head a bit behind her arms as she thought. Silent communication, a telepath perhaps

"I don't have friends exactly."

Even being near this 'thing' disguised as a person was disorienting. "I was..."
She falters, "It was a dare, for payment, or perhaps they just thought it'd be funny to watch and never planned to actually pay me though."

She very slowly lowered her arms, "I don't really have a neighborhood either, for what it matters. But escorting me out would be beneficial to say the least."

'Delphi' plans on getting out of here and making an attempt to really live her own life. Away from her opressive father

Aya's stomach drops as she feels something horrible on the strands of fate. Like a tangled mass of knotted strings, roiling and grasping out for anything nearby, suddenly surging towards her. She scooped up the mask and stuffed it into the deep inner pocket of the jacket before the 'thing' approached. For the first time in a long time she feels anxious and afraid, putting her arms up in a crossed defense at it's approahc.

Chroknight finds the girl sitting on the ground, arms crossed in front of her, with an older model smartphone clutched tightly in her grasp, pressed up against the dank subway wall.

In the dark of the tunnel it's hard to tell exact features. But the dark skinned teen is dressed in oversized boots, gray leggings, with a skirt, and a light green jacket layered over a cream colored top. She tries to scoot back from Chroknight pressing further into the dusty wall, cloths already stained with several patches of mud pressed in.

"Stay back." she calls out before Chroknight gets too close the hint of a lingering arabic accent on her lips. "I don't know what you are, but I-i know how to defend myself!"

Once they reach the right tunnel, Chroknight speaks up to the teen girl, whose face they can't quite make out in the dark. "Hey, it's dangerous to stumble around in the dark like this. You're lucky you didn't run into something worse than some magic force field. You need an escort to the surface? What's your name?"

Chroknight speaking seems to calm her down, albiet only slightly, obviously having not expected to meet anything down here in the darkness. "My name?"

'Well it would only make sense for the non-initiated to not know my name, which means the cult was doing well'

"My... friends call me Delphi." She foregoes answering anything about an escort or giving information on why she was down here, for now. She follows where Chroknight steps, keeping forward facing towards the armored hero, though her motions tend to lag behind just a bit until she actually steps.

'I wouldn't need an escort if it weren't for you causing a wash in the river'

Trudging along in the dark wasn't exactly a new sensation. To keep herself from getting too into her own head about her powers possibly leading her astray in some vain hope for something outside of just servitude. She remembered all the times she had to delve through the lightless expanse of her Father's prison, before they had all began this cyclical battle.

She was younger then, everything was so much bigger and scarier. Her father had been the assertive 'my word is law' kind of parent. Given his divinity it was fairly more literal than mortals could say. But then it all -Bonk-

Aya fell onto her behind and quickly scrambled to remove her mask in an attempt to soothe the tender if minor wound as she rebounded off of solid air. Even godlings knew the pain of sensitive sinuses.
Undignified was all she could think as she tended to the minor injury sitting there in the dark carefully massaging her face.

Pressed against the wall Aya waited for her heart to slow, not even a full day back and that would have hurt badly. It makes them dangerous

She reiterated in her head before traversing down the tunnel some more, when she feels the strands of fate unwind and split into two threads she hesitates only long enough to scan which either may be. Before veering off onto her own path. She knew damn good and well that He'd be back, no matter what she did, but if she were to have some time to herself, a seldom gift she would take it for as long as she could. Too valuable to get rid of for someone so great and powerful and paranoid.

The servants all shake their heads. "No. We will now wait to arise when he calls us forth, imbued with his power," one says. "Our great reward."

The servants shuffle into carved alcoves like sepulchers to await reanimation as her father's footsoldiers. The dark basement far beneath Halcyon City was too deep for her phone to get a "signal" for its amazing location and map feature, but there are stairs leading from the secret chamber into the city's labyrinthine subway system.

As long as she goes up, Aya will find the way forward.

Aya finds that response odd, but accepts and waits as they all file into their alcoves. "To our great reward..." She trails off. It was going to be far more difficult now that she didn't have the aid of the servants, but she turned and started upwards, running a hand along the wall the entire time feeling the weight pressing upon the old stonework.

Adorning her new clothing some ways away from the sepulchers Aya hums to herself an old song, this wasn't the first time she'd returned to a new world. It'd certainly not be the last either. But she foresaw that she might at least be able to get some more power in her hands in the meantime.

For the next few weeks it would be learning more about this time and place, consolidating her own power, and moving from there. For that she'd need to get out of this tomb, reconvene with the stars and then the real plans began.

Eventually Aya stumbled out into a track of the subway system, having tripped on the rail line in the dark. For a moment she lost the wall, grabbed the rail, and continued forward till she hit it again and stood up. Using her booted feet to kick the solid track she noted several things, metal, not rusted, oddly familiar, and was that a vibration?

Several hours later, Aya was given strange food called "Lunchables" and drink called an "iced mocha latte." Her new clothes consisted of muted gray leggings, a skirt, layered cream top and light green jacket, and clunky boots. She was handed a small black device that lit up in her hand that could show images of all sorts on its smooth surface. The servants struggle to explain the powers that makes the device work, using words like smart phone, charger, and wifi to describe its myriad powers.

The servants of her father were almost used up. Granted extended life to endure the time between his last appearance and his next, they generally start to fall apart at this stage. It never mattered all that much. Their purpose was about to end, just as her father would draw new mortals willing to give up their lives in service even if he again is thwarted.

"The time is ripe," they explain in their hollow, tired voices. "The primary defenders are not on this world and no one knows when they will return. All that remain to resist are children and the powerless. There are no new weapons to be feared. Nothing like the split atom. It remains unused; the cattle fear its use. It will not threaten our lord."

Though her scrowl was unreadable under the mask as she daintily ate bits of the 'meal' under her guise she listened to the explainations the servants gave.

This meager offering of flat bread, cheese, and... mini meats is all that could be mustered? Well it's better than canned hash last time, how far society must have fallen.

The strange plaque and it's slew of abilities however piqued her interests and she spent some time determining the activation and manipulation of the device.

"My what a long way you've come since the rotary devices." She looked to the withering servant not seeing but feeling their life essence slipping away from them like a bucket with to many holes, causing her scrowl to deepen.

"You have... done well. But I'm afraid his gifts can only carry your mortal shell so far. It is almost time for you to join him in permanence. I shall see his gifts brought to the rest of your world, though you will not see it in this life."

She swallowed and braced herself. "Given that the others are yet to awake. The duty of sending falls to me. Is there else you would wish to see to before your time?"

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Session 5: Modern History (revised)
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Delphi, somewhere in Halcyon

The heat of a thousand suns pour into Delphi's prison. It blasts her like a furnace, crackling her skin and singeing her hair. Or at least, that's the sensation of a small space heater in a dark and dingy basement has after numerous years on a frozen rock hurtling through the cold vastness of space.

Life flows into her limbs, the sweet pain of warmth flowing into her extremities and air -- real air -- pouring into her lungs once again.

The next painful sensation is light. Searing daggers stabbing brutally into her eyes as sealed lids split open to allow the harsh intensity of sputtering candles meet her pupils. The low drone of sonorous chants finally registers to her ice-encrusted ears. Robed figures writhe as they prostrate themselves before her, though she knows the true reference is not for her. The one who will soon be following. The one for whom she is supposed to pave the way. Her father.

As the last of the ice cracks and falls away, allowing her to stand painfully upon her own two feet, the chanting swells, "Aya Ma'aferet Nehebtuan! Aya Ma'aferet Nehebtuan! Aya Ma'aferet Nehebtuan! Judge us! Lead us! Call us to the Conqueror's service!"

What do you do??

The sensation of coming back to life, it was never dull or painless when the Ka was reunited with the Khet. Bones unmoved for too long struggled against ache. Muscular tissue swelling slowly as moisture returned to them. The cold nothingness, painstakingly replaced with uncountable pins and needles as neurons reconnected to long dormant and desiccated nerve endings.

"Shhh-kaaaaah"
A painful sucking of air, too hot for lungs that had forgotten the memory of a breath, left the former corpse. She wanted so much to cry out in pain, though she lacked the ability and the time between left her with nothing but a raspy hiss to give. Everything was too bright, too loud, it always was after being ripped out of the river of souls, the singular respite she was allowed from it all.

Even from her laying position she could sense the strange device pouring invisible fire into the air, feel the flicker of candles, the curve of the half dozen mouths calling to her within this space. Slowly her hands crept up from their folded position allowing a bony finger with an overgrown nail to scratch at the edge of her golden funerary mask.

Withered arms struggled to lift upwards, as did the rest of her body until she was able to sit up. Her head turned slightly towards those, worms, the devout priests of the fallen, chanting to her. Their revered godling, draped in tattered, moth eaten, colorless cloth. Bedecked in golden, and many plastic trinkets, beads reclaimed or fashioned in a crude mimicry of the old ways again. The stoic golden mask with it's hollow gaze was the only real treasure, hiding where the eyes behind might really be looking.

It would take some time for her to be revitalized fully, but her divine nature was evident as her long dormant body quickly became flush with life before their very eyes. The clothing knitting itself together as if it'd never been touched by time. Lost ornaments materialized on her garb, sending the falsehoods blasting across the room to bounce or shatter off the cold basement walls. Unkempt nails filed themselves into the image of perfection, blemishes of time and decay melting into smooth flesh, color saturating the fresh attire of a deity supping from the very essence of the cosmos.

She had to move, felt it deep in her soul as it was stitched back into the flesh, like an unreachable itch in the back of one's skull. She had to show them her power, his power, it wasn't a choice it was fact. Turning on her rear, motions stuttering and jerky, bumbling flesh struggling to catch up with the boundless energy trapped within. Her bare feet found purchase upon the musty floor and she rose. She took several breaths among these chanting fleas, no longer the raspy dry painful sucking through pierced flesh. No longer with withered limbs, ghoulish claws, nor cracked lips ripe with decay. But the flesh of a goddess, the fruit of the divine brought low enough so that even insects could hope of being graced with it's touch.

Standing as tall as her small frame could, she cast a gaze across the knelt and prostrating followers. Slowly she waved a hand hushing them all into silence from their fevered chants without a word. Aya let out a slow, disappointed noise as she scanned across them. It wasn't the one at the head that her hand fell to, but the third from the far side of the back. A young woman clutching at a symbol that was not tied to their divine concealed under the cloak, her loyalty teetering between this covenant and another. Aya spoke calmly, sweetly to the girl even though the sound was muffled and harshly tinged by the golden mask. "Ash'na Ha'tem." Her hand turned over beckoning the individual forward.

The girl, fearful, but more than that, eager stumbled forward to the prophet of their fell god and knelt at Aya's feet. Much to the dismay of the other attendees. The masked godling not even deigning her with a glance beyond the one she'd cast across the room.

'Good they still follow orders like little hounds.' She thought boredly, barely listening to the muttering platitudes being spoken into the stone tile.

"You will tell me what I have missed in my time away." They could not see it nor feel it, but the hatred for what she was about to say rose like bile in her throat and filled her heart. "That I may make ready this place for His return."

She didn't need to look back at her former resting place, nor around the room to feel the walls around her, as her expanded senses returned. This place was too cramped to show off her might. She hated it, every single time. "Now lead me from this tomb. I wish to see the world we are to 'enlighten' while I reap the knowledge from your mind." The young woman sprung up, and Aya lifted her hand so as not to let the 'thing' touch her.

"Y-y-yes my mistress right this way." The girl turned and began towards the sturdy undecorated stairs leading out of the basement.

Aya followed several paces behind with a step of one who had been raised to uphold ceremony, up out of this cramped place. Her voice trailed behind to the others as she passed, "The rest of you shall have the privilege to prepare me a meal, and clothing suited to this era. Delegate these tasks between whom is best suited among you." The others were less eager having not been first chosen, but they obliged the harbinger of their true lord and picked themselves up and made ready to follow in the quickening river that would lead to their long sought after salvation.

She wondered just how many, if any, of these worms understood how much blood and sacrifice would be required to flood that dry riverbed. For now she allowed the harsh, false lights to touch her sun-kissed skin where the light funeral dressings did not cover her as they exited the basement. It wasn't the first time she'd been exposed to these small trapped globes of the sun-god's energy. That was one thing mortals had always impressed her with. Their innovative ability to steal fire from the unworthy; it made them interesting, it made them dangerous, and most important of all to Aya, it made them useful.