The blood red sun of Luxuria Mortiferum hung low in the sky. Dalanesca was perched, half reclined, upon a chaise lounge, looking rather uncomfortable. For weeks now, she had felt unlike herself. Ever since the moment that she had taken her first breath after Angela had resurrected her during the battle against the invaders, now known to have come from Onnen, there had been something that had just been not quite right. She felt almost as though she were ill. Her skin, though it was always pale, had a strange pallor to it, and she felt a nagging feeling deep inside her gut.
A crystal tumbler of whiskey – normal, mortal whiskey – sat half consumed on a small pedestal next to her lounger. She had thought perhaps that would make the strange feeling inside go away, but she had been utterly wrong. Instead of making her feel a bit better, it had made her feel ungodly ill, and she had vomited rather violently into one of the bushes near the fountain. ”Danella, come take this away,” she said, gesturing to the half consumed tumbler of whiskey. One of the help she kept on hand who had been standing by, awaiting instructions on anything the goddess might want, hurried over.
”Right away, my lady,” the girl said. As she went to take the cup, she faltered and knocked it to the ground, the crystal shattering into many pieces. ”Oh, my lady, I am so sorry!” she said, looking downright terrified. The help knew their mistress to have a bit of a temper, so her fear was understandable.
Dalanesca simply waved her hand. ”Oh, don’t be scared, I’m not feeling up to my usual punishments,” she said, giving a cold laugh. ”Just clean it up,” she added, dismissively. Danella nodded and knelt down to pick up the pieces of the cup. Moment later, the girl let out a sharp gasp, having gashed her hand open rather deeply on one of the shards. Crimson blood was flowing from the wound, dripping to the ground. The metallic copper scent of the blood hit Dalanesca’s nostrils like hellfire, and she whipped her head in the girl’s direction, drawing in a sharp breath. She chalked the sensitivity of smell up to the weird feelings she had been having and let out a sigh. ”Come here,” she said, waving her back over. The girl hesitantly walked toward her and Dalanesca grabbed her hand rather abruptly. Though she reigned over death, she did possess some healing magic, and placed her hand over the girls, about to whisper an incantation. She had just parted her lips to begin speaking when she felt the warm, wet sensation of the girl’s blood on her own hand, and her gaze drew downwards.
The nagging sensation that Dalanesca had been feeling in her gut returned, and grew rather strong – and it was almost as if a voice in her head began to speak to her, urging her to taste the girl’s blood. Slowly, she pulled the girl’s hand up towards her mouth, to which Danella looked rather terrified and confused. At first, she just darted her tongue out, and the moment the blood hit her tongue, she was in pure bliss. She lapped with her tongue a few more times, Danella frozen in fear and not moving, pulling the girl just a bit nearer due to the force on her hand. Her lips pressed to her hand and created suction, drawing more blood from the wound, Dalanesca finally feeling as though she was getting what she needed as the warm blood cascaded down her throat.
She paused, and dropped the girls hand, opening her eyes which had closed during her loss of self control. She looked at Danella, who was pale white and terrified. ”I… excuse me, I’m not sure what came over me just there,” she said, sounding a bit flustered.
”N-no, my lady, not to worry,” she said. ”I’ll just go down to the kitchens and have Giselle bandage it for me.” She turned to walk into the building, though before she could make it any further, Dalanesca had grabbed her arm, pulling her back towards her.
An irresistible urge had washed over the goddess, and in a flash she had retrieved a shard of the broken crystal from the ground and slashed Danella’s throat open, quickly latching her mouth to the wound and devouring the girl’s blood. Danella let out a gurgling scream, a scream that only made Dalanesca smirk as she drank, her eyes flashing crimson as she did so.
Not thirty minutes later, Dalanesca stood looking at three pale and very much dead bodies on the ground in front of her, each with their throats slit. Blood stained her lips, her chin, her chest, and much of the bodice she wore. Tremair, the male who lay lifeless on the ground, had come to the sounds of Danella screaming, to which Dalanesca had dropped Danella’s corpse and taken him as her next – and Giselle lay dead on the ground as well, having come at hearing Tremair’s pleas. Dalanesca’s eyes faded back to their icy blue, and she surveyed the ground in front of her… and for the first time in a very, very long time, Dalanesca looked terrified.
She fell to her knees in front of the corpses, looking at the blood on her hands, tasting the tinge in her mouth – she had just fed on their blood! Strangely, however, she noticed that the ill feelings she had been experiencing were gone, and the nagging in her stomach had subsided. ”What is wrong with me?” she wondered aloud, her voice wavering… and then, it dawned on her. This must have had something to do with her resurrection. All of the strange feelings had begun after Angela had brought her back – and with that, she decided that she needed to go to her sister goddess and perhaps find out what it was that had changed within her.
-
It took very little time for Dalanesca to disappear from her own realm and reappear in Elysia. If anyone would be able to help her figure out what was wrong, it would be Angela. Dalanesca gave no care to the fact that she was still covered in fairly fresh blood, the blood even matting sections of the curls in her hair. She found herself inside of Angela’s palace, though she was not quite sure what part of the palace she had appeared in.
She was scared, and the terror that she was feeling stemmed from the fact that she had become afraid of herself. There was clearly something wrong with her, and she did not like the fact that she didn’t know what it was. Tears had begun to well in her eyes, and as the first one streamed down her face, she knelt upon the ground, her blood stained skirts spreading out around her, as she pushed a wave of thought towards Angela, begging her to come to her – begging for her help. The tears began to flow freely as the Goddess of Death, generally one of the most terrifying beings in all of Revaliir, wept in fear while she awaited the Goddess of Life.
