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Empress Amora discovers The Book of The Dead IE./ TKE
Empress Amora discovers The Book of The Dead
Once a powerful sorceress, now The Goddess of Necromancy
The changes in the air were more frequent now. Amora could tell, she had a sixth sense about her Empire; as every ruler should. Every ruler should know the changes their Kingdom goes through, even by just a moment.. a feeling. The shift in power. Laws of nature, the balance was about to be broken soon.
Amora was more than a Sorcerer. She had a deep darkness born out of the nature of her birth from her heritage. Once the darkness is let in, and has a control over you, you can never push it out. Amora had been feeling this need, this urge.. a pull really, ever since she was a little girl. The need for darkness, the need for death. Truly, a power she had spent her lifetime trying to master, or avoid.. until now.....
Much long had the Sorcerer taken over her life, from her previous magical mentors about the laws of nature and balance, to her mentors about her skills as a combative warrior. She long since thought the darkness was finally out of her entirely, through her family, loved ones and friends. She felt at peace, however.. that peace as a farse.. an illusion, something she was fooling herself with. She knew, that there'd come a time where she'd need to embrace her entire self.
Her long crimson nails clicked along the smooth banister railing along the edge of her balcony. The shift in the air, the storm was coming. Amora felt it in her soul, her eyes lit up with electricity, the spark of something new and challenging in her life was coming to a head. The thought of this new power, dormant power now coming to the surface and growing was giving her a satisfaction. A longing that had now been fulfilled, at the penile of her ability and power, came this form of darkness that had finally taken its hold.
It's almost as though a calling had been pulling Amora to a deeper place within herself. A longing that had once again opened up within her. Times of peace and change tends to have one self reflect over their life and this was something old that had resurfaced. Amora thought that she had taken care of this problem, and this power.. it was ancient, and she hadn't used this power since before her first husband.
Amora brought her gaze to the sky, the feeling of darkness engulfed her soul. It brought a smile to her lips, while the winds picked up a little through out her Empire. Almost as though a storm was about to happen, when it was a result of the embers of her darkness being lit and processed in a way she didn't think possible. Amora was more than a student since the last time this happened, now.. she was able to tap into it.
A voice, calling out to her.. filling her with the darkness within her void she had been feeling her entire lifetime. Dark, black robes appeared all around her hour glass figure, having them caress her as an old lover would. Manifesting itself all around here, she was becoming the vessel for this other world. Amora could feel the changes take over, long had she been a child of light and darkness, but now.. this, was what had been missing, and filling her.
Having her disappear now, her eyes changed to a solid white coloring. She wasn't herself, the visages of her old life began to disappear along with her memories and feelings for her family and friends.. The cold, recesses of darkness and the emptiness vacuum of space were now taking over as she became one with the entity of darkness, in fact becoming darkness herself. Appearing, some place that was neither time nor space, but just emptiness.
It looked like a cemetery, but that was for Amora's sake and not what really was there. To Amora's eyes, she saw hallowed ground. Dead and graves, lost memories of ancient souls of the fallen through out the annals of history. What was really there, was a vast, empty darkness. Nothing if you will. A deep and ancient voice began emerging out of Amora, it wasn't her own. It was more ethereal and eerie sounding, it was the very darkness itself, speaking and using Amora as the vessel she was becoming.
[Forsaken be Earth- As the night gives birth- Gales of wind and forced rain, make up the storm of the insane. No light within the world, when the Sun becomes not.- Hallowed be the ground of the fallen, upon thy hill's plot. Nor blessing or gifted of which stands damned and cursed. Of olden wood and broken shields falls upon the scared earth. Wither trees of Pine and Birch, rising above a rotting Church. Decayed and withering, rotten to the core. Of both the Heavens and the Hells all beyond thy winter's door.]
[Naught remains before the graved altar.. tarnished silver and trim that faltered. A single tree baring a solitary apple. Tempting thy fate of biting. The apple behind the Chapel is a farse.. for it no longer bares fruit, but for that a dead root.. Damnation and Evil lay within, thy temptation falls before its sin. The single tree to behold, of the cold and darkness within the mystics hold. Freezing rain, and endless shade.- Undoing all that the light of time has made.]
[No pass, no way through the thick of the brush.- nothing with ease where anyone could must.. a clearing and misleading through the Pine.. Heaven and Earth are left behind. A cemetery decripited and dead, past the trees and gates off thy stare.- Loved ones cries, shedding their tears, a place thought once in young over the years, now is a place everyone fears.]
[Withering away the Sands of Time. Through the hour glass, of a shattered past, of which the darkness remains. Spiders casting their deadly webs of deceit and serpents leading you to cheat.- Within the empty, hollowed grounds, Hell battles Heaven and the hounds. No more light within the veil, only darkness of the keenest sense to reveal. No sound, for which to hear.. no sight for which to see and no taste to which to enjoy.. nothing but emptiness, pain and suffering.]
[ Hallowed be thy ground with empty spaces, and rotting corpses with no distinct faces. The dye is cast in marble and forged upon steel.. an angel stands alone. Fallen from grace, and the bearer of darkness falls upon this place. His face, blank-less with emotion, etched upon the archaic headstones of old. The visages of the fallen etched through out, a solitary name brands without. Alive or dead, were the fallen abased. Through darkness and death thy memories erased.]
[Storms athered of strikes and gale.- Barring down the endless weeping of Heaven and Hell. Barren lands of grass and plains, falling down thy precious rain.]
The ancient, ethereal dark voice that had been reciting the ancient spell slowly disappeared from the woman standing there. That woman was The Empress of one of the most powerful Empires the lands have seen in the longest time. Amora the High Divine Enchantress, stood their within in the darkness. Not afraid, or nervous.. not out of control, but perfectly stoic was her standing there. Her face was all but blank, when a solitary smile appeared before her.
She was embracing the darkness, as if two old lovers had finally reunited. A shadow appeared now. The darkness, manifesting itself to a form for Amora to converse with while she herself was becoming the darkness. A decripided old, ancient book appeared in the entities bony fingers. Through the hooded veil, Amora knew who it was. It was as though Death himself made the journey to this plain to progress the ceremony of the transformation.
Bound by human flesh, soaked in the blood of the damned.. the book gave off a sort of energy that was not of this Earth or mortal plain. Amora understood, what the entity demanded out of her. Without saying a word. The sounds and cries of the undead were seeping out of the book, along with their power. Amora remained stoic, she could feel all of those tormented souls of thousands of years, centuries course through her body now that she had become the darkness.
The beauty within the chaos of that book. that book that was never meant to see the light of day. That book that could cause the end of life as we know it, had now bleonged to her and with it.. all the ancient knowledge of the damned and its power. The Book of the Dead.. a powerful grimoir that was now in Amora's possession and souly belonged to her. She could feel the power of darkness coursing through every vein of her body.
Winds began picking up, followed by the dark clouds of the sky around her. They were swirling around Amora, as if she were the cause of them.. and she was. Standing at its epicenter, Amora's amber brown hair flew wildly along with her cloak through the intense gust storms of wind. The transformation was almost complete, each soul of the damned she could see and feel. Their life, was now apart of hers. She had the power of each damned soul that has ever lived or died.
It was a rush, to say the least.. this was a transformation she had never experienced, nor anyone would experience. Many would boast about them being Death, or powers of Death or the Darkness. Amora was the living embodiment of the Darkness now. She understood and then, she didn't understand. This was a vast universe of power and evil that she hadn't experienced, nor was prepared enough yet. The souls of the damned continued to ravage her body and mind.
Her own soul was transforming as well and she wanted the souls of the dead to stop.
Tormenting her soul, plaguing her mind. All of the death she saw, all of their faces. Their emotions of what they were feeling right as they died and traversed over to the other side. She knew this was her burden to bare, no one could or had the power to be the Keeper of such a book. She was its chosen guardian, to have the power and decide what to use it for.
Amora's mind had been racing, as though she were running down a vast, endless cavern. Pitch black, even with her speed, she knew that she would never be able to escape. Screaming at the top of their lungs, which made Amora sink to her knees.. letting out her own high pitch scream. It sent chills running down her spine, which made the screams within her soul silent. She placed her hand on the ground of the cemetery, which caused the entire ground to shake violently from her power.
The storm seemed to pick up more with its intense nature, the storm was symbolic of the intense power channeling and coursing through Amora's body now. Brilliant flashes of lightning shot through the cemetery, seering through the clouds, setting the air all around it ablaze of fire. The heavens themselves burst, having ice like rain fall hard to the ground. Hitting her flesh, it stung. Which made Amora scream even louder than before, trying to combat the pain this transformation was yielding.
It felt like thousands of needles had been penetrating her skin all at once, which caused her breathing to become more labored. Each breath was like a fight for her life, she felt like she had been drowning in an endless sea.. Her skin turned a different color, a little more pale and white than her natural tanned complexion. Her once beautifully amber brown hair had turned into a white with a mixed shade of gray in it.
The intense wind had her hair waving against it, while her eyes went from a beautiful brown to an empty void of black and darkness. Nothing. Gasping for air once again, this transformation now had turned into a fight for survival. Every time she felt a sting of the power that had burst through her, it set another challenge that she tried to overcome in order to survive this ordeal.
Amora gathered her thoughts, her family and friends soon came flooding back into her memory while the darkness was there and had consumed her, she was taking over and control over it. The winds and storm had died down, peering through the mist and fog was a dark, crimson red aura of energy that had surrounded her body. This aura was more different than her normal aura she usually held when she channeled her energy.
More evil, menacing.. this wasn't just her energy anymore, it was the combined energy of all the souls of the damned and fallen now haunting and consuming her very essence. The ground before her erupted and split before her, slowly cracking and splintering beneath her knees, while the hooded figure that once stood their menacingly at first disappeared into the shadows. It was a welcoming sign, a comforting sign. It meant that her transformation was nearly over.
The voices in her head transformed into the endless powers of their spirit within hers. She felt the sense of purpose, seeing the broken hands of the skeletons rise up from the splintered earth beneath her. She could hear their voices, the calm nature of the army of the damned rising from the graves and disappearing within her and the book. Knowing why she was there, the understanding which made her laugh suddenly. She brought her gaze towards the moon, it changed. Turning into a blood red like coloring that almost looked to be bleeding as if she wounded the very moon herself.
Regaining her sense of balance, she made her way to a vertical base. Everything returned to normal, her breathing and energy.. however, something within her changed. Her skin felt ice cold, and dead.. as if it had been rotting from the inside out for more than a decade. In fact, her whole demeanor and personality changed, it was as if she felt like Death itself. In a way, she was Death.. she became something else entirely this night.
The ground continued to shake, while the book she had been holding had suddenly disappeared into the air. Something had wrapped around her body like a vine. Except it was red. It had entangled her in a web, wrapping itself all around her body, her torso. Past her stomach and around her luscious ass. The hands that were once there had disappeared and the ground closed.
Amora spoke, but her voice sounded different and not of her own. "The Dead hath risen and the time of the living is over.. The time of Darkness and Damnation is now. Life will never outlast the Darkness, and the stench of the dead will flood the Earth. The path that was made by the dead will be left by the dead. I am not only the spirit vessel of the dead, but I am its voice. I am its will.. I have become the one that has been feared, the one they tried praying against.. The one who refused their prayers by not answering them, and followered their fears in my wake. "
"I have risen, and long since my slumber the darkest shadows of my presence has barely been noticed.. That all has changed, for I am Death.. the voice of Darkness, of the damned that has passed among the living and forgotten over time itself. The Will that will bring your souls and theirs endless amounts of torment." Her deep, hallowed out eyes, black.. narrowed slightly, while her lips curled into an evil smile. Pursing them into a low hiss she whispered once more.. "I rule the Damned, the doomed, and the fallen.. cast down of the fallen, will rise again.."
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