Reborn in Blood -M- (Pagan)

[Zero]

The temple was abuzz with activity, more than the usual hustle and bustle of the lesser children of their order going about their daily chores. Outside the normally vibrant jungle had grown still. A tension hung in the air, even the creatures of the jungle waited in breathless anticipation. It was a day of celebration, of joy, and praise. They would make sacrifices to the Incarnation as he slumbered in his tomb below the temple; they would call out to him, praise his glory, and hope to gain his favor.

Once a month they performed this rite, this attempt to rose the Incarnation from his hibernation. They had been trying for twenty years now. Raven was in even greater anticipation than anyone else, as he always was. Once the sun had set and the full moon rose, they would try to rouse his father, and he as always would pray for him to remain asleep. Of course, his flock did not know this, he was to shepherd them as if he too was in great rejoice at the idea of his father's return. He did not look forward to the event.

Raven was young enough that his power was not complete, barely even begun to develop in comparison to his father's might. He could not hope to challenge Azrael, not for another thousand years, at least. However, as long as his father remained dormant, he was in command of the cult. Not to mention the crimes he had committed in the twenty years his father lay sleeping. The repercussions would be severe when Azrael learned of his misdeeds, but as long as his father slept he could remain unchallenged in his behavior.

Tonight would also be a night of rebirth. Initiates would come and be reborn into their dark family. He always looked forward to that. New recruits meant fresh blood and more servants to add to his growing power. He paced the halls, growing tension in him that would not pass until after the rituals completed and his father lay still asleep. The cultists and initiates would grovel as they passed him and dutifully he would mumble small words of encouragement.

[paganchick]

Valery was growing more nervous with each passing moment, if she was alive her heart would be pounding, she could almost feel the phantom beats as she paced slightly. She hoped and prayed with all of her being that Azrael, her new god would awaken. She wanted, no she needed him, needed to find herself in his graces. She even let her blonde hair from its braid. Letting it fall in waves over her shoulders.

It was growing dark, and with that a smile crossed her face, it was her element. She hoped that Azrael would feel her, something about her, something about this night that he would awaken. Valery had an offering along with the hope to offer herself to him if he awoke. She took a deep unneeded breath  as she started to follow the slow current of people to where she needed to be.

If only Derek could see her now, he would be beside himself, he would probably want to kill her. She was going to join a blood cult, she was going to kill and put her life in danger, she was going to become a tool. Or at least that is how he would see it. He always fought his nature, too afraid to embrace it and that is what she needed, a Lord that embraced his nature, whether that be dark or not. She knew her nature would be dark, she was a vampire, a killer after all.

Valery closed her eyes, calling out with all of her heart and soul to this being, this god. Calling for his favor, calling for him in a way she herself didn't completely understand. She took one more deep breath before clearing her head and prepared herself for the celebration that was about to happen.

[Zero]

As the jungle rapidly darkened, Raven was approached by his priests. They helped him into a ceremonial robe; a sparkling ruby was centered on his chest, ornately set in gold. His brothers should have been there to try to rouse their father by his side, but Tempt had perished and Ashlar was far away. His throat constricted painfully at the thought of his younger brother. While he had not only allowed the demise of Tempt, had encouraged it even, he missed Ashlar dearly. It would have been better to have his younger brother by his side, but he would not bend. His brother had defied him and he would suffer his punishment until he was ready to beg him for forgiveness.

The masses trickled down to the lower chambers. A granite alter was situated in the center of the sacrificial chamber and as the crowd grew, Raven took his place, standing atop the alter, his silver eyes scanning over his precious little lambs. Fools, all of them, insignificant little worms wriggling at his feet. Only a very few of them would ever earn any form of favor from his father. They were so weak, so easily led. He pushed a few stray strands of long dark hair from his pale face.

Finally, as the flow of cultists stopped coming, and the din from the hushed whispers became a small roar, he raised both hands and absolute silence took over the room, all eyes fixated on him. This was as it should be, the miserable lesser beings in awe of the awesome might of the Mordeth Gods. He let his eyes lazily pass over them once more before lowering his hands and speaking in a silky purr, a seductive drawl to his words.

"My children! Tonight we gather beneath the full moon, once more we will pay homage to the Incarnation, my Father. Together we will cry out as one into the night and humble ourselves before his glory with a sacrifice! With our devotion we will beg him once more for his attendance!" The crowd broke into a glorious roar of cheers.

He allowed them to do so for almost a minute before raising his hands once more for silence, which was granted immediately. "There are initiates among you, hopefuls to join our great family. Step forward my children, step forward so that you may seek my father's blessing!"

[paganchick]

Valery, along with the others gave Raven complete respect, listening to his words, they were the truth and the way. As he spoke a feeling in  the pit of her stomach started to grow stronger. A feeling similar to the moment before she killed someone. A mixture of emotion and the bodies reaction to the emotion. The strongest feeling though was anticipation.

She felt as if she stood on a ledge, she was tempting Azrael, for if he didn't respond how could she truly believe. If he couldn't hear her call her plea how could he be a god. He was undoubtedly a very powerful demon, yes, that couldn't be argued, but there were few test to prove a god, and here she was to tempt him so she could truly believe. She could feel her throat tighten and her stomach felt a bit uneasy, would she be let down? Her hope be crushed by doubt? She wouldn't know until she stepped forward, until after this ceremony.

She stepped forward as Raven called for the initiates. With each step she took her emotions grew stronger, the possibilities greater, the risk becoming more and more real. Again she called out for Azrael, praising him in her mind, begging for him with out words, would he hear her? Could he hear her? Could his shadows reach into the recesses of her mind and spirit to hear her pleas? She would find out sooner rather then later.

As she reach Raven doubt entered her mind, what if he didn't hear her, or worse that he did and found her unworthy and shunned her. She had been burned before, rejected, wanted someone so bad she could taste it but was turned away.

Would this happen again, if he rose would he refuse to show her her nature, refuse to take her offering? She felt her mouth grow dry as she stood before Raven, her mind and heart racing wildly.

[Zero]

With each passing moment Raven's anxiety grew, but outwardly he remained calm. For twenty years he had lead this same ritual once every month like clockwork. He did not fear making a mistake; his body could have gone through the motions in his sleep. No, what he truly dreaded was for their pleas to receive an answer. The moment his father awoke, his power and authority would lessen. Yes, the cultists would still obey his every command, would still hang on his every word, but it would be his father once again the center of attention and the true leader. Having a taste of power, he found himself loathe to give it up.

Obediently the initiates stepped forward, until they stood before him, at the base of the alter. Vaguely he wondered which of them would be found worth and which would perish. Not all initiates survived their initiation, the truly weak would be culled, the others would be allowed to bask in the glory of Azrael as long as they served with obedient devotion. Of course, there was a pleasant surprise for this month. Most of the initiates were humans, weak beings thirsting for a taste of true power. It was truly rare for another vampire to seek them out. For the most part they remained secluded in their own pockets and covens, but not this woman. Had she realized the true greatness of his line? Perhaps, they would find out.

Silence stretched over the room again as Raven regarded the initiates coolly. After a moment Raven began to recite the Tenants of Ash, and the cultists began to chant, crying out to the Incarnation, begging him to grace their unworthy selves with his presence. As Raven finished reciting the Tenants, the chanting grew louder and louder until it was a dull roar, fueling the tension and anticipation. He pulled a ceremonial dagger from his robes and offered it to the first initiate in line.

"Prove your devotion! Bleed for your God, spill it upon the alter and call out for his grace." Every member of the cult would spill their blood for Azrael, the more they were willing to spill, the greater their devotion was perceived. Of course, this was not the sacrifice, this was a mere offering from those wishing to gain the blessing of the Incarnation.

Each initiate would slice their flesh and let the blood trickle over the alter before passing the knife on to the next who would do the same. The more timid would spill less blood and not cut as deep, but a few sliced heavily into their arms, which caused Raven to grin, he lusted for the spilling crimson honey, but dared not touch any of them. He could not take any for himself during the ritual, this blood was all for Azrael, regardless of his father not being awake to drink it.

The knife was passed to Valery, and Raven glared at her defiantly. Let her prove now how much she wanted to serve his father. The sacrificial lamb would be chosen soon, but he knew that the vampire would not be it. No, his father would not have approved of him destroying her. While other vampires were considered lesser than Azrael and his line, they were still vampires, which made them more valuable than humans.

[paganchick]

Valery could feel the hunger grow inside of her, a hunger any vampire could relate to. The sweet metallic smell, hearing hearts hammer in chest as a mixture of fear and longing filled the room. Still, she was old enough to ignore the hunger, to push the animalistic yearning to feed aside. At a quick glance from an unknowing eye she would almost look human, seeming unfazed by the blood being spilled on the alter. Finally it was her turn, and she happily took the knife. She wasn't afraid as she held her smooth milky arm out over the alter.

With a quick flick of her skilled hand she cut deep from the base of her hand to the bend of her elbow. She watched for a moment as her deep crimson blood flowed out onto the alter.

"My Lord, please accept this offering from an unworthy being, I beg thee, grace us with your presence," She spoke, her fangs gleaming in the light of the room, her words rolling off her tongue like honey. She spoke with the grace that only ancients could, her voice holding a slight accent giving a hint of her old age.

Slowly she passed the dagger on, holding her arm over the alter, not allowing her body to fully heal, letting more of her blood spill, letting her blood call out to him in a way that only blood could.

Blood was a powerful thing, the direct symbol of life and power. It held life with in it, even hers. Holding hopes, dreams, and knowledge, and here she was, letting her hopes, dreams, and knowledge pour out, exposed in a most vulnerable way. Soon her voice joined the others in chanting as her eyes rose back to Raven.

[Zero]

Raven gave a satisfied nod as Valery spilled her blood quite generously; also she maintained an admirable amount of control over her bloodlust. Focusing his attention back on the ceremony, now convinced that there would be no interruptions or outbursts, Raven watched the last few initiates spill their offering onto the alter. The last initiate in line handed the ceremonial dagger back to him, fat crimson drops dripping off the gleaming blade he held it up for all the cultists to see.

"The initiates have made their offerings, and now to cull the unworthy! Let us sacrifice those the Incarnation finds displeasing!" The crowd roared in anticipation. Now Raven would select those of the initiates he did not feel had been generous enough in their offerings, and they would be offered up completely, making themselves the ultimate offering.  He began to lower the dagger to point at the first initiate that he would kill to appease his father, but suddenly he froze, silver eyes darting about uneasily as he licked his lips.

The shadows on the wall danced to the flickering flames of the torches that dimly lit the chamber, but they had begun to move unnaturally, something that could have been easily overlooked, but a tingle went up his spine as he felt a presence; dark, foreboding, and immediately recognizable. He opened his mouth to continue the ritual, but the cultists had fallen to hushed whispers of excitement; they could feel his father too.

A moment later three of the initiates screamed as they were lifted from the ground by tendrils of shadow that had manifested into something solid. The shadows swirled around the screaming; thrashing forms, enveloping them completely in a dark embrace, muffling their screams of terror. For several long, agonizing seconds everything went quiet as all eyes were fixated on the three writhing shadows suspended above their heads.

Then the shadows exploded in a fine mist of crimson rain, leaving behind nothing of the initiates as their liquefied remains gently fell down upon the cultists. Raven raised both arms, eyes lightly closed as he felt his father all around him and he was drenched in the blood of the initiates. The cultists had begun cheering wildly again. The Incarnation had accepted their sacrifice, quite a bit more spectacularly then they could have imagined in their wildest dreams.

"A sign! My Father is most pleased with our sacrifice!" Louder cheers, Raven's ears began to hurt, but he could not have quieted them just then. The presence was still in the room, it had settled over them, but it lasted only a few minutes before the shadows once more danced only from the flames, and the presence was gone. The cultists slowly settled back down, a warm glow in the room. Once they were only exchanging hushed whispers again, Raven spoke. "A great sign indeed! My Father hears our pleas, but we must disperse now. Go back to your duties; perform them well to please our Great Lord."

Dismissed, the cultists began to file out of the chamber, some would remain behind to clean up the mess that had been made, as always, the alter and chamber must be clean and gleaming for the next ceremony. A priest came to the surviving initiates and began herding them away to settle them in. Some of them would need care for the wounds they had inflicted upon themselves, and they would need to be assigned their tasks.

Except Valery, no one tried to take her away, instead Raven looked down at her with a calculating gaze. When it had grown quieter, he finally spoke to her. "Little vampire full of doubt...do you still doubt my father?"

[paganchick]

As the blood rained down Valery raised her head up, her eyes closed, basking in the power that surrounded them. He had let his power show in a way that was unusual, or at least that is what she gathered from the looks and actions of those around her, even Raven seemed a bit surprised. She quietly mumbled a praise to Azrael.

"To say anything else would be blasphemous, would it not?" She asked, bowing lightly to Raven.
"Your father, our god answered this unworthy beings pleas, I will have to offer him more next time and beg forgiveness for my doubt," She added, her head still bowed in respect to Raven.

If he had been any other beings son he wouldn't have gotten the same respect, he would have been lucky to receive any respect at all. She was an ancient and he was not, she could tell that. He was still a child compared to her, still, she couldn't let that show on her features, she banished the thoughts and feelings from her mind quickly.

"Is this a sign that your father is awakening?" She asked in a humble yet excited way. She was thrilled that it could have been her that he heard, she was even more excited that he could be awakening, that she might soon be able to find favor with him, maybe even become his bride.

[Zero]

The display of power was unusual, mainly because Raven had not expected any reaction from his father. Normally their rituals were completely ignored while his father slept. Raven could envy him, while he lay sleeping like a baby; it was up to Raven to flounce around going through the motion of all these tedious formalities to keep the cultists happy. They thrived off of the structure of their faith.  Of course it was necessary, the more elaborate the rituals, the more eager their followers seemed to obey and please.

He didn't have time to mull it over right now. Raven still was puzzling over what exactly he should do with Valery. It was so rare for a vampire to join their ranks that he wasn't quite sure what to make of her. Raven was young, yes, but his father's blood did run in his veins, it would be interesting to see her underestimate him, as he sensed she might. He considered her words for a moment, before shaking his head slowly.

"It means only that he recognized that we were offering him a sacrifice, and that he accepted it. If my father had awakened, we would know it by now." She seemed so very eager for his father to rise from his slumber. It immediately made him suspicious. "Why do you wish to serve my father so much? Most vampires serve their own Master, the one who made them. I know that my father did not make you, so what interest does he hold for you?"

[paganchick]

Valery was prepared for his question, for his suspicion. She of course couldn't blame him, if there rolls reversed she would have just as much if not more suspicion. She gave him a slight bow before taking an unneeded breath to gather her words precisely.

"My maker is weak, you can barely call him a vampire with the way he acts and the values and morals he holds so dear. So I seek a surrogate of sorts if you will, a new master. A master who does not fight his nature, rather, embraces it. If I were to be able to choose of seek out a master why not seek out the strongest and beg for his favor? I will try to win as much of your fathers favor as I can, while, and after he awakens, doing all I can in his honor," Valery spoke honestly, though leaving out the part about seeking to be Azrael's wife once he awoken. She didn't know if Raven would dislike that or not considering he was Azrael's son.

Valery kept her head bowed humbly, being as respectful with her tone and posture as one would expect. Still her mind wasn't completely with her words. She thought about how else she might gain Azrael's attention. She contimplated fasting and offering her blood meals to him. Though she wondered how long she could go before her nature and need to feed would take over.

[Zero]

Raven made a face of disgust as Valery described the one who created her. A vampire that refused to accept their true nature was a vampire not worthy of immorality. It was sometimes a problem, when a human turned, sometimes their humanity did not let go of their souls. A sickening condition, for sure, a plague of the vampire race. Better to destroy such weak individuals, to cull them forever from their ranks. Still he felt dissatisfaction with the answer he received. She was not telling him everything.

"You are no fledgling, why did you wait so long to seek out a new Master? And more importantly, what makes you think you're even worthy of my father's time? What if he were to awaken this very moment and strike you down where you stand for approaching him?" Had his father been awake it would have certainly been possible. Azrael was not one to tolerate nonsense, but it could have been equally as possible that he would agree to give Valery a chance to prove herself to him. Raven really couldn't say for sure, as his father tended to be fickle and unpredictable.

[paganchick]

"It took me a while to break down me and my makers bond enough to feel suitable. A makers bond is incredibly strong, and almost nearly impossible to break, and extremely hard to weaken," Valery explained softly. She felt like she was being interrogated, still she kept her cool, she wouldn't allow Raven to get under her skin. If his father had felt her unfit or suspected something about her, wouldn't he have killed her during the ceremony? Still she offered Raven a humble smile, her fangs once more glimmering in the dim light.

"I suppose if he found me unworthy I would except my fate, but if you live life with out risk you are not living at all. If I just excepted what was handed to me and hid I would not deserve my immortality, I would be a complete waste, sometimes ambition is needed to survive, especially among the ancients," She spoke, explaining the best she could. Still, even as she spoke, her words carefully selected she was not thinking about Raven. No, she was thinking about Ravens father, that was who she sought after, and she would do any extreme to gain his attention and seek and hasten his awakening.

[Zero]

Raven was interrogating her. So far he wasn't sure if he trusted another vampire within the cult, she was not a human, like most of the followers, and she was not of Azrael's making. Perhaps she would prove to be a dangerous wild card thrown into the deck. Then again, maybe he could use her to his advantage in some way. Only time would tell. Valery was far too eager to wake his father for his tastes, but if his father remained asleep he could still turn things the way he wanted them.

"Mmm. Well perhaps you will find a place here and perhaps not. My father will decide once he's examined you more closely. If he even notices you among the masses. You have awfully high hopes, coming here expecting something for yourself, rather than wishing only to serve." Raven didn't know exactly the extent of her desires, but she obviously wished to attach herself to his father because of power. A strong motivator, for sure, and one he could even understand.

He just hoped she didn't think to try to use his father to further herself or some obscure goal she held. Azrael was no tool, and would not accept anything other than unerring devotion. That thought gave him pause; did he actually feel protective of his father, not wishing his father to be used? Or maybe it was something else, something darker. For twenty years his father had slept, and in those twenty years his father had not so much as made a peep. Tonight, he had given a great show of power, and it just so happened that it was the night Valery's initiation. Was it an omen? He shuddered slightly and stepped down from the alter.

"We are both drenched in blood from the sacrifice...I think I will go bath now and meditate on what occurred tonight. I suggest you do the same. A cultist will show you to your room, and will prepare a bath if you wish." He paused in thought a moment. "I will also send someone to your room, please clean up after yourself, bodies are quite filthy to have lying about." He wished to feed after that, and undoubtedly she would be refreshed by a good meal as well.

[paganchick]

Valery bowed to Raven, letting him pass and walk in front of her. She could tell he was suspicious of her, or maybe didn't even like her at all. She wondered if he some how saw her as a threat. If some how his father showing himself in such a big way made him upset, and where she was new he tied the occurrence to her. Was he jealous of her or did he fear his father rising? Or did he just fear her using his father, she couldn't tell for sure, she hadn't been around him long enough to get a good read on him.

She definitely wasn't the normal cultist there, no, yes she wanted to serve but she didn't follow blindly, she had been alive long enough to think for herself, whether or not that would be a bad thing would soon be revealed she was sure. She could understand why she could be a threat though, someone who actively seeks your fathers attention. Raven had some truth to his words, she did have high hopes, to be noticed among the masses but she would do anything to be. She had somethings going for her already, she was a vampire for one, which got her noticed already by the second ranking being of the cult, trumped by none but Azrael, so with her logic she saw that she had good chances.

So she followed Raven out of the ceremony chambers, she stopped a cultist who seemed to know what was going on and had her lead her to her room. She would wait to take a bath until after someone was sent for her to feed. She decided she wouldn't feed, no, she needed to gain more of Azrael's favor, and she had always heard that self sacrifice was one of the best ways to get a gods favor. So she waited in her room, sitting in the middle of the floor, legs crossed back to the door. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, clearing her heart and mind. She herself had never hibernated, so she didn't know how conscious Azrael would be, still if he could have had such a powerful display earlier he had to be conscious on some level. She opened herself up, opening her mind hoping to just get another feel of Azrael, he was addicting.

[Zero]

There were too many things for Raven to think about and consider. He didn't have time to fool around with someone that was likely insignificant. Surely he was reading way too much into things. His father had made his display because he had wanted to and for no other reason than that, but why had he wanted to? That was the question that really nagged at him. Still, he would feel better when he was clean and his thirst was sated. Without a backwards glance, he left Valery to find her own way, she wasn't his primary concern; there were thousands of cultists to preoccupy him.

The cultist had shown Valery to her room and then had promptly left her alone. There would be no further sign from Azrael; he did not reach out to her. No, deep below the earth, in the darkest vaults of the temple, the tomb of the Incarnate lay silent and still. Azrael did not so much as stir from his dark slumber, at least there were no visible signs to say he was even remotely stirring in his sleep. The event at the sacrifice had been spectacular, but was it an isolated incident? Had he unconsciously reached out? Even Raven did not know.

There was a faint knock on Valery's door, but the cultist did not wait to be invited in. He was a middle-aged man, tall and lanky with dark brown eyes and a mop of curly brown hair. With barely a glance at her he knelt on the floor. "Lord Prophet Raven has said that I am to be your evening meal. I humbly offer myself, if it will please my Lord Prophet." His voice didn't so much as waver, he obviously was not afraid to die, and that was obviously what he expected to do.

[paganchick]

Valery was conflicted, her body craved the cultists blood, yearned for it from the most primal place with in her. Still she wondered if she should fast or not. She couldn't even feel Azrael when she meditated which let doubt leak back into her mind. She knew she would need her strength here, she knew she couldn't let her blood lust get the best of her.

Valery stood, turning to face the man, her eyes coolly looked over him, like a starving man eying a steak.
"Lets go somewhere else, I am a bit of a messy eater," She spoke, motioning with his finger for him to follow. The whole way through the twisting halls she fought with herself. An internal war of primal need and intellectual want. Would wasting such fine blood go to waste? Would it be worth it, would be even be able to tell what she was doing, he was asleep after all. Finally she decided against it, not knowing how Raven would react to her efforts to draw his father from sleep. If she knew he would hear and accept her offer, that would be one thing, still she had too much doubt, he had shown himself once, but that was just once. She couldn't feel his mind while hers was so open and searching.

She had lead the man out into the forest, a much better place to feast, no clean up required, nature would do that for her.  She motioned the man forward and he stepped forward without hesitation. Still as her fangs moved towards his neck she fought with herself, and again she allowed the primal beast within win. Her teeth sank into his flesh with out mercy, a slight smirk on her face as the first gush of blood entered her mouth, the sweet metallic nectar only pulling her inner beast out more. She twisted her head a bit, ripping the wound on his neck viciously She could feel a small dribbled of blood fall down her chin as the mans body pulled away slightly as his knees collapsed. Her strong arms pulled him close again. Her hunger demanded every last drop and she planned on appeasing it.

[Zero]

((OOC: Super, mega-post incoming. I may or may not have gotten carried away...Hope this is okay!))

Raven was so conflicted he couldn't stand being alone with himself. He fed quickly and without the normal amount of gusto and pleasure he would take. Supper was followed by a quick bath to scrub the blood from his flesh. His father had certainly created a big mess tonight. Typical, Azrael causing havoc and him cleaning everything up. Why did his father get to have all the fun while he was left to do all the work? Once he was clean and dressed in fresh clothes, Raven took off through the halls, racing down spiraling staircases into the depths of the temple.

He needed some answers. The thought of whether or not his father was able to hear him would drive him mad if he couldn't know for sure. When Azrael had first gone to sleep, Raven had attempted to speak to him often, but after time and time again his words fell on deaf ears he had given up. Tonight he found that he had to try again. Perhaps if he sat there in the dark and spoke to his father he would actually be heard. It seemed counter-productive. If his father had regained even a smidgeon of awareness, he should be doing his best to squash it and let his father slip peacefully back into the void.

Instead he found himself in the lowest catacombs, eyes gazing upon the extremely grand tomb. The gold was decorated with silver veins in skeletal designs, gleaming rubies were inlaid in the eyes of skulls that were carefully preserved and piled around the base. His father had insisted on the gaudiness of his resting place. Raven though it was comically "sinister", like a child trying too hard to seem impressive. Grumpily he thought the same could be thought about him in some ways.

Now that he was down here, he wished to turn and flee back up to the surface of the temple, back to where it was safer. At the same time, he was drawn towards the sarcophagus. Inside it laid his father. Despite his desire to prove himself even greater than his father, he still found himself wishing for nothing more than to make him proud and please him. So slowly he stepped forward and laid a hand on the golden lid.

Instantaneously his mind was invaded, the presence heavy, dark, crushing. He cried out in agony and fear as it felt as if red hot pokers were being driven into his brain. It took everything in his power to push back on the presence in his mind. Father! It's me! Please! It felt like an eternity, but it was probably less than five seconds, and the presence had withdrawn to a mere trickle, a tendril of connection. It was no longer dark or heavy; it was warm and even a little regretful.

Rise, my son.

Raven blinked, he had not realized that he had ended up curled up in a ball on the floor before the tomb. Gasping he dragged himself up, both hands now firmly grasping his father's tomb for support, his legs felt unsteady. Did you not recognize me? You haven't been asleep that bloody long to forget your own son.

I was not expecting you.

You were at the ceremony. Quite a show you put on. If you're awake down here, why didn't you just show yourself? That would have really given them something to cheer about.

Why were you alone? Where are your brothers? They should have been there to greet me. That is why I did not come.

Raven's breath caught in his throat. This was a moment he had not been looking forward to at all. How was his father going to react? Slowly and carefully he let his thoughts trail along the connection to his father. Ashlar left the same year you went to sleep and has not returned. He went to raise litters out in the world. Tempt...Tempt is gone. He was slain... Raven could say nothing more, the connection was immediately broken and the very earth trembled as an anguished howl reverberated through the temple.

Cringing, he clapped his hands over his ears and stumbled back. Raven had expected that his father would be upset to learn that one of his sons had perished, but he hadn't really been certain of the absolute depth of despair that seemed to radiate from the tomb. He tried to reach out with his mind to his father again, but it was like trying to penetrate an endless darkness. Finally giving up he moved away and leaned against the far wall of the crypt, giving his father time.

Things grew silent and still again, and for a long time Raven wondered if his father had slipped away again. Had the news of Tempt's death been too much for him coming out of a sleep? His eyes closed and remained that way, just listening to the growing silence, although he could feel something stirring that made his skin crawl. Finally the sound of metal and stone scrapping pierced the silence and Raven opened his eyes, watching in morbid fascination as the lid to his father's sarcophagus slid open. A roiling darkness poured out of the tomb before taking the shape of a man.

The shadows dispersed and Azrael stood in the center of the room, head bowed in grief. "When did your brother die? How did he die?"

"About sixteen years ago, I tried to tell you, but you didn't hear me. He was murdered, and before you ask, I don't know who did it, but when we find out, they will be made to pay." He felt awful lying to his father. He knew exactly who had killed Tempt, but he would never tell anyone that secret; especially not his father. Azrael remained silent so he continued. "He's entombed here, in the shrine. Just as I knew you would want it. Come."

He held out his hand and his father took it. He showed him to a very special crypt, but he stopped at the door and Azrael proceeded alone. There in the darkness lay three ornate sarcophagi. Tempt had been laid to rest next to his grandfather and great-grandfather. This was where each Incarnate would be entombed once their time had passed. Azrael didn't so much as glance at the other tombs, all he could do was gaze at the one that held his son.

For a long time he stayed still, contemplating. Finally he turned back to Raven, silver eyes hard and merciless. "I trust you have made sure my rooms were kept waiting and ready for my return. Send me a few cultists. I need to kill something." He turned to give a final look at Tempt's tomb. Raven took that as a dismissal and turned to quickly leave and carryout his father's wishes, but was paused as Azrael spoke again. "Oh, and one more thing, bring her to me."

Raven didn't have to ask who his father meant. In no time at all he was back up within the habituated levels of the temple. Many cultists stopped him to ask what was going on. They had felt the rumblings from below the temple, had heard his father's despair. He reassured them that everything was fine, more than fine, the news spread quickly that the Incarnation had woken. He sent a cultist to find Valery and summon her to his father's chambers immediately.

[paganchick]

Valery was pleasantly relaxing in a bath that had been drawn for her. Her eyes closed as her acute sense of smell fought to pick out whether the scented oil in the bath was jasmine or rose water. It felt nice to be clean, though she had no problem sporting around blood. Everything was fine and dandy until she felt the ground shake followed by what seemed to me a cry of grief.

She jumped out of the water, at first her mind didn't register what exactly it could be, just that it could be danger, her claws and fangs quickly at the ready. After a moment though, a robe hastily half on she realized what it was. A deeper sense of fear shot through her, not one of danger that could be fought, but of impending doom. She slowly took off the outer robe she had thrown on and grabbed a silk dress to put of before once again putting the outer robe on.

When the servant came in to call her to Azrael's chambers her heart dropped, heading to his chambers at once though her pace was a bit slowed. She didn't know if it was fear of reverence but she felt funny, a feeling she wasn't used to. Was she walking towards her death, heading to her doom? Would she be punished for her once doubtful heart, now though, now her heart was anything but doubtful. There was something in the air, she could almost feel the power that danced in the shadows, like static in the air.

She was ignorant of magic, she had never possessed of been taught it, she was once of physical skill and knowledge. She stood in front of his door, hesitating. If she was to be punished, to be killed, she decided she would die with honor. She wouldn't even attempt to fight, like the man she had killed earlier she was completely submitting to Azrael's will, whatever it would be.

She closed her eyes, releasing a long breath, her hair falling in still damp curls over her shoulder as she raised her hand to knock on the door.

[Zero]

The temple was like a kicked anthill, preparations were being made, and many cultists were running here and there to get a great feast ready so that they could celebrate the return of their God. Those not actively getting ready for the festival that would occur were gathering in small groups to talk excitedly among themselves. Every conversation revolved around the news that the Incarnation had finally risen from his twenty year sleep. Well, almost every conversation. A few of the cultists spoke of how it was wrong for Ashlar not to be here to greet his father, and a couple spoke in hushed whispers about how poor Tempt should have been there too, but his absence was not his fault, of course.

By the time Valery had reached Azrael's chambers, things had been set into full motion within the temple. Her knock was swiftly answered by Raven, who gave her a hard look before impatiently gesturing for her to hurry up and hissed softly to her. "When my father says jump, you jump. He hates being kept waiting." Truthfully she hadn't taken that long, but still Raven felt she could have gotten there much faster if she had wanted to. He wondered what had made her drag her feet. On second thought, he really didn't care.

Azrael was lounging comfortably in a chair, there was a cultist brushing his hair, and seeming absolutely overjoyed at the opportunity to do so. He wore only a pair of black, loose trousers and a long black robe lined in red silk, which was left hanging open. The rooms allotted to Azrael were the very finest in the temple; of course, the entire room was gilded in gold and rubies; even in the low light of flickering candles it was a dazzling sight.

[paganchick]

The moment Valery was in Azrael's presences she kneeled before him in complete humility.
"My Lord," She stated softly. She didn't even steal a glance at her risen gods face. No, she had to humble, she had to earn his favor. She could almost feel the phantom heart beats of her long dead heart as emotions surged through her. She kneeled before a man who had people who would willingly sacrifice themselves just for his amusement. She kneeled before a true man of power, a man who embraced his nature, both the good and bad facets of it.

She could feel her throat grow dry, it felt like forever had passed though she was sure it had been only a few moments. She wished she had known what his intentions for her had been before she was summoned, it would have been a lot easier on her nerves, but she wasn't the one who mattered in that moment. She wasn't the one who mattered at all in the room, she was a humble servant at the whims of the man who she kneeled in front of.