making your bones

gone were the pitiless, sightless days that he would r e a c h, searching, grasping, yearning for purchase against a relentless tide that forced him to claw for every single inch - for he was now whole. be it spell or curse, it took him far longer than should have been acceptable to return to flesh and cause mortal hearts to quake with fear.

but now... oh, now, there was someone new to worship at the pulpit and conduct his symphone of woe. for never had he expected to unearth her, to inhale her, to unravel her, and yet.. she revealed her secrets unbidden and gave willingly of her flesh; was he too quick to paint her such an important role in his grand design?

memories steeped in utter bliss flitted through the god's mind as he allowed himself to invade her most private sanctuary and since he had claimed nowhere to yet roost - her's was the home he would grace with his presence.

"this is acceptable." a deep rumble escaped from his bony frame as he meticulously examined each area of his new living quarters, leaning over when he needed to scrutinize something in particular. yes, this would do quite well.

The tide that Elgar’nan had sought to sweep over Antiva had crashed against the land's shores, but the response had been swift. Nyllian had returned too late to offer any assistance though as he faded back into the void, broken and scattered, the necromancer had absorbed a tiny fraction of power. A final gift from the God of the Sun and Vengeance.

While content in the dark, the bending of the light around her was a useful tool to remain undiscovered. Perhaps they would use it for a game of cat and mouse around the estate, though pointless given Death had already consumed her flesh and was intimately aware of the pulse of the organ behind her ribs. While she mourned her rescuer's demise, the comforting lull of his sombre song quickly put her grief to rest.

Her chambers had been rarely used when in residence, preferring the familiarity of the dungeons and the savage, bare conditions. However, she would be grateful of mattresses' softness after the arduous search through the mountains of Antiva for the gift sought. Approaching the door, Nyllian raised a hand to push it open only to pause mid-air as she noticed it open. Irritation quickly evaporated once a familiar rumble reached her ears, a small smile began curling at the corners before pushing and closing the door behind her, back resting against the wood.

My apologies for its sparseness. I don’t spend much time here, eyes trailed around the room. From the desk, laden with various texts and tombs of magic to the table of various bones and skeletal remains to the few pieces of soft furnishings. Though, if it’s to your tastes… I’ll certainly return more often.

Pushing herself off the door, Nyllian stalked her way towards him, head bowed. How may I be of service, my Lord.

@Falon'din