Droplets of the morning dew shimmered like starlight as the morning sun shone brightly down upon the elegant courtyard of Castle Clandstein. The garden was large, and boasted a wide variety of beautiful, colorful flowers. These included radiant red roses, bushes of heavenly lavender, golden chrysanthemums and many more varieties of wildflowers; far too many to count. Truly, it was the spectacle of the great castle and the servants who tended to the flowers were very proud of their work. Lucinda found herself in the center of the garden this morning, as she did many other mornings after she woke. Her elegant, white gown was brought to life in the sunlight, giving her a warm, radiant aura as she admired a well kept monument at the center of the garden. Even in such a beautiful place, the Queen's face held an expression of sorrow and grief as she gently traced the words imprinted on the monument with her delicate fingers.
In Memory of the Proud House Giséle. Lest we Forget.
Lucinda released a long, somber sigh before neatly tucking her hands on top of each other in front of her waist. She stood tall with her head held high. Her beautiful golden hair was tied into a neat bun, a gorgeous ceramic hair piece with sunflowers painted onto it holding her hair in place. She held fond memories of the time Sariel had insisted on putting up this monument for the Queen's family. The King knew that he could never undo what his father had done to Lucinda's house, but the Queen took comfort in the fact that this monument was a gesture of her King's unconditional love. As if on cue, her train of thought was interrupted by a rough, gravelly voice from behind her.
"
Your Highness," Sir Henryk, the Knight who had been guarding Lucinda this morning, spoke up before being abruptly interrupted by Lucinda.
"
Don't mince words, Sir Henryk. Impart your intentions, then take your leave." Lucinda's voice was cold and her words blunt; a direct contrast to the warm, welcoming aura that surrounded her. It was well known across the castle Lucinda's distaste for the Knights in her King's service. Many of them played a part in the genocide of her family. Even though she knew they were just following orders, she just couldn't bring herself to forgive them. Not yet.
Henryk stiffened up at her harshness, even though it wasn't a surprise that the Queen acted this way towards him. Clearing his throat, he addressed the Queen once more.
"
His Royal Majesty, King Sariel Proudsword, is here to escort your Highness to the dining hall." Lucinda raised an eyebrow, turning her head and body to the left slightly to catch a glimpse of her husband standing besides the Knight. Lucinda's rosy cheeks lifted up with a bright smile, and she turned herself fully to face Sariel with a curtsy. Raising up, she walked over to him and gently pressed her lips against his cheek.
"
What a delightful surprise. Are our darling children waiting for us? If so, we must make haste. I wish to see them all before they depart for yet another days adventure." Even though Lucinda deeply missed her House, she knew that she had to put on a brave face in front of Sariel and her children. If the Queen showed weakness, then what would her subjects think of her? Lucinda brushed the hair from her fringe out of her face as she awaited the King to escort her to their children.
Nyarlathotep
Early Morning - The Abyss Labyrinth
The sound of dripping water echoed throughout the dimly lit room. The walls, covered in a black, sticky substance that slowly crawled down to the ground in a pile, were cracked and dilapidated. They looked as though they would crumble with a slight wind. The floor didn't look any better; covered in the strange black substance and the ancient bones of those who had been lost in the labyrinth. At the end of the room, the strange black substance converged to one point, forming a large pile which Nyarlathotep sat upon. Their wings wrapped around them like a cloak, only their head popping out from the top. The ever present smile on their face was enough to unnerve even the bravest of men. Black, sunken eye sockets that held the darkness of the abyss within them watched over the others present in the room. Nyarlathotep's inner circle. Mortal beings of darkness that served only them. This was the first time Nyarlathotep had presented itself to the others. Before today, the Dark Lord had remained in the shadows and issued orders. Yet their desire for conquest grew more insatiable by the day, and they found themselves unable to wait any longer.
Standing up from the throne of Abyss slime, Nyarlathotep spread it's mighty wings and addressed their followers with a hundred distorted, horrific voices.
"
There is a natural order to this world. Darkness and Light. Every soul possesses both. Even you, who all claim to be one with he darkness; cannot avoid this fact. Your souls are dark, but there will always be even the tiniest spark of light." When Nyarlathotep spoke, their mouth did not move. Instead their voices echoed throughout the room from all angles, sending chills down the spines of all who hear them. "
Yet here you stand. Conquerors of your inner light. You believe there is only strength in Darkness. So you stand before us, Darkness itself, willing to give me everything you have to attain power." Nyarlathotep spread their wings wide with a large, powerful gust; blowing out the torches on the walls until the only light remaining was the torch on top of their head.
"
You are fools to believe that the Light holds no power. We once thought the same, and now We are stuck in this fleeting form. To make the same mistake as Us would be disgraceful. But you're all smarter than that, correct? You know not to underestimate the Light. No, we will be patient. And then when the time is right, we shall snuff them out completely." Nyarlathotep reached up and grabbed the lamp atop of their head, putting it down in front of them as they eerily stared into the faces of their followers.
"
Now. Step forward, and present your name. Swear your allegiance to us and us alone." Nyarlathotep held their long, slender arm out; black claws outstretching as they beckoned the Inner Circle forward to present themselves to their Lord.
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