Sileon's declaration and flight from the palace had not been unexpected, in fact, quite the opposite. She felt neither particular frustration or elation at his decision to leave the pantheon, or, as she had proposed, taken the throne for himself, he was simply another piece in the grand scheme of things she would not have to contend with, at least in regards to the succession. It was then the divine sight of her gaze finally fell upon the city of Caesilinus. It was not love for Aroesus that stirred her attention, even if her past affections for him still burned as an afterthought, it was the threat to the order of things, the rampant destruction and the bleeding of her own faithful. Unlike many, she was not particularly loathe of the vampires, they were, after all, simply creatures, any fault in their creation was not their own, but still, she would not have their actions sully the streets of her husband's city, nor abide the actions of the upjumped for long. Back in the days of their closest bonding, Mysia and Aroesus had nearly been one, their divinity warping together, and there were still relics from that time, relics she pulled on to bring her to the mortal plane, to the roof of his greatest temple.

With a flash of blinding light, sending those remaining attendants, some brave enough to even try and approach her, scuttling, the form of Mysia appeared, the golden light becoming all that she could perceive. A similar flash denoted her arrival on the mortal plane, a streak of golden light leaping upwards, visible for miles, those in the city not busy fucking, being killed or fleeing couldn't help but draw their eyes to it, and many who were engaged in such acts perceived it to. Even if the light was grand, she appeared the size of a simple human, if somewhat taller, and so was barely visible even from those at the feet of the temple, but she could survey the whole city, once her senses were free of the golden light. The city was burning, although that was hardly just the fault of the invading forces, it had been self-destructing and they had taken advantage of it. The streets would have been running red, had the vampires not been feasting, no doubt. Even if the loose billowing robe around her remained in place, black armour began to form over her visible shoulders and the passing visibility of her legs, the darkness of the plate visible across her form beneath the robe, even if it avoided the pale expanse of her stomach, not wishing to give any hints to its shape. Her horns extended, as her body adapted to the rage building inside her.

It was only a few moments before the transformation was complete, her crown, usually gold, had melded with her horns to form an ivory headdress, her pale skin shimmered, appearing almost reptilian. Coal black gauntlets grasped a great sword, the guard appearing as two mirrored dragon maws. Her eyes blazed as two orbs of fire and even in this slight form, the pull of her divinity reached the mortals in the city below. When her voice finally sounded forth, it came as a boom, full of rage, ripping across the city and to its surrounding hinterlands.

"Caesilinus will be ashes before it belongs to the dead."

The blade leapt from her hands, driving into the stone path at the bottom of the flights of stairs leading up to the temple, marble splitting beneath the huge weapon, before cracking as lines of read heat seared out from it, eventually forming a circle around the grand temple, igniting vampire and destructive human alike at touch, while leaving those simply seeking shelter in the divine halls. Once the circle was complete, a transparent shield of red light began o form over the temple, like a bubble, the same incantation as below sheltering the greatest shrine of her husband, as well as those closest to him, who's shrines occupied space close to the great temple. An enforced sanctuary, none trying to fight over the city could enter its shield, beyond the divine themselves, irregardless of allegiance.

Then, Mysia hesitated, her base instance was to give in to the Dragonheart, to allow her rage to rule her and take the form she had been born to, but the city wasn't so far gone that only fire could save it, even though her nails were already forming into draconic claws, her body's instincts struggling with her mind, forming a compromise, for now. The King of the Dead could not allow this situation to go on for long, the divine powers aligned against his mortal followers would soon overwhelm them, and rob him of a great influence on the mortal plane, so she doubted the situation would remain a mortal conflict, even still, the city was fast approaching the need of a purge, and the Dragon Queen would be most inclined to provide.