Damn this forest. The colder, northern forests I could deal with. Thrive in, even. These jungles, though, claustrophobically packed with life… it grated on my nerves. At times, the overwhelming scents were revolting, and the insects. The insects. I couldn't count how many times I had to dig them out of my clothing. The only pleasure I derived from that was killing them; ending one life among billions of their kind. One might think that being a vampire would deter their proclivity toward clinging to the skin. Apparently there simply wasn't enough room for all of them elsewhere, and I was prime real estate. If I hadn't the ability to seal my tent during the day, I wouldn't ever have considered this journey. The night lounges and streets of Wyllmochvar and Kurayo were my home, not these trees. Fuck this place.

Why a Goddess of all consuming fire would choose this place to make her home was beyond me. I smirked. Perhaps she desired to some day burn the whole place to the ground. I wouldn't mourn over the ashes, of that I was certain. I knew I was close now. Before I drew too close to the place, I made certain to check my appearance over. During the day, the forest made any attempt at appearing clean and well made virtually pointless. At night it was manageable, while still humid. If I was to see a Goddess, I'd have to appear my best, after all. Especially one that I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to worship. I applied silver and black lines expertly to the skin around my eyes, making sure that the lines were clean. The motions had been practiced thousands of times over my hundreds of years. Probably tens of thousands. 

It wasn't that choosing her over other deities was difficult - it was rather that worshipping any deity at all was questionable to me. I intended to worship her here, certainly. If there was a deity for me, the vampiric Goddess would naturally be the place to start. I had taken a bath in a flowing spring earlier, and now that I was dressed in an outfit more suited to my being. Thank the Night for bags of holding. 

With a refreshed perspective and a confident stride, I made my way out of the forest and toward the bottom of the white stone steps of the Ivory Court.

Humidity . It was the one word that seemed to sum up all that was the Goddess’s home, outside of startling beauty. The sharp contrasts and well-constructed gardens with their hot springs and wild fruits seemed to make the place a wild paradise. The goddess loved it, loved her home, and as such she lay now in the cooling night by the largest of hot spring filled pools. She was nude as the day the Dark God had made her. Ivory white flesh dappled with dew and firelight. Rhylana was a classic Knight beauty, save for her eyes, and though she was too critical of herself, many found her to be stunning.

The day had been harder than most, having had to go out to her faithful, her ascension did not change how she handled herself and the goddess was active as a ‘mortal’ in the community around her, often times out amongst the people in lieu of their mysteriously absent lord. A lord that had vanished shortly after her arrival, though none could say where he went, the goddess smiled softly at the memory, a large white Liger coming to lay lazily at her side. Rhylana, though not a typical vampire, was very much comfortable in her own skin, this owing to her shifter birth, and her rearing. Dimitre had more than once called her beautiful, not as beautiful as some of her ancestors as he would always remind her, but beautiful compared to lesser mortals.

She was no longer mortal in any sense of the word, even if she fell.

The moon danced upon the surface of the springs causing the water to throw waves of light upon the walls of the temple and over her pale complexion. Long raven hair fell around her like an ebony halo, eyes closed against the coming night as for the first time in some time the young Goddess relaxed. Nikolai was to bed, Alairia was as well and Damon was bedding down with the troops. This left the liger’s head under a lazy hand that caressed his mane and stroked his ears. Life, for this moment, was simplistic and beautiful- with the exception of the servants that brought her wine and a delicate snack, the temple was blissfully silent.

I had heard of the stories of the servants that tended to this secluded temple. A few men had told bawdy tales of bedding them after a few mugs of ale. This occurred more in seedier places like the dockside tavern of the Winking Mermaid, and less often in places such as the Arms of the Crescent Moon. If I had to guess, their words were equal parts drunken hyperbole as they were truth. At least now, as I ascended the white marble of the steps, I could see their source of inspiration. The women were dressed in fine, seductive silks that swayed even more than their curves as they moved. One of them approached me - I could only presume in greeting.

"Greetings, traveler. Welcome to our shelter and place of worship for the Goddess who burns and consumes all. Please come inside. Rest, drink, eat, worship," she intoned in practiced reverence. 

I nodded. My preconceived response was something about my sustenance being of another nature, but the words caught in my throat. Her blood, pumping through her veins, just the barest nick away from flowing out across her golden skin… it was thunderously loud. Perhaps it had been too long since I had fed. I remembered the skin in my pack. While drinking from it wasn't quite as satisfying as drinking it straight from the source, the alternative would be to potentially anger the Goddess in whose realm I had walked in to.

There weren't many out and about in this place. Aside from the servant that greeted me, I had seen no guards around. Following the eagerly offered directions of the one who greeted me, I found myself parting the silk drapes across the entranceway to an antechamber. It seemed more of a lounge than a place for worship. The Large obsidian bowl of flame and the tantalizingly inviting pillows beckoned me to drop my pack and relax in the comfortable warmth. Perhaps I had come at the right time. If I had a chance to see the Goddess, the time when she wasn't so involved with others would probably be the most ideal - if she'd have me at all. That remained to be seen. I stepped from that room and into what I could only guess was the worship chamber.

It was the floating flame that gave it away. Magical, and a fitting symbol for such a Goddess. It's light played off of the similarly colored silken wall decorations, and for more than a few moments, I allowed myself to kneel and stare into the undulating fire. 

"Rhylana, Goddess of Consuming Fire, hear me…" I attempted in a whisper. I chuckled. Is this how people worshipped this Goddess? Is this how anyone worshipped any deity at all? My time studying magic had desensitized me from things such as faith.

One of her servants passed me, carrying what I had to guess was food, and walked into the courtyard beyond. This piqued my curiosity, and so I rose and followed her. I paused, wondering if I should proceed. I could sense her. There; the blood of a few servants, at least one large feline, and then something much more powerful. If I had been able to sense her from here, there was no doubt in my mind that my identity was also known. 

Rest was for the weak, apparently, as any time Rhylana was bound to find it- someone would cal upon her. The prayers were intense, they came at all hours of the day, and while Rhylana usually drowned them out, one broke through due to its proximity. A being had come to her land, her home, and was in the worship chapel. Yes, the weave had pulled upon the goddess to let her know he was here, the servants echoed it as well, ‘Rhylana, Goddess of Consuming Fire, hear me…’. Who dared order her? The goddess rose from her private pools and, without missing a step, phased through the wall to the chapel, out from the flame and onto her throne.

Nude as the day she had been brought into the world, twice, she looked at the man that dared disrupt her. He was obviously ‘one like her’, as the servants eluded, they used this term for any predator. Any that would take their life. She knew without a second guess that he was a vampire, a mage, and that he was here to ask something of the Goddess for he surely was not here for the scenery. “Speak. Vampire, for you dare to order a goddess about like a wee girl.” She didn’t take kindly to being ‘ordered’ to hear anyone, those that came to her usually had a sense of humility.

Her aura was hot, a breath of flames upon those within her reach, eyes boring into the newcomer, until proven otherwise, it was entirely possible this man was a spy for her father, or sent here to hurt her child or herself. Legends abound about her blood, from whence she had sprung, and she knew that the risks would be there. Trust was for the dead, for that is where they all ended up.She looked down at him, aa leggy and curvaceous five foot either woman, ivory flesh with raven hair and her eyes mismatched with one blue and one green. She was not a typical beauty, and lounging on an ivory throne, she didn’t need to appear to be anything else than what she was.

Self-respect, egoism, and vanity were pretty core parts of my identity. There was a time to stand and argue, and then there were times to kneel and beg forgiveness. Putting aside my pride, I realized I should now do the latter. Apparently, I had greatly underestimated the efficacy of my own prayer. The Goddess appeared ahead of me - beautiful, nude, and with a short temper. Remembering my situation, I averted my eyes and knelt (fighting the temptation to gaze upon her form).

"Forgive me, Goddess. I am a fool who does not know how to pray. I've never done so before…," I said, eyes fixed firmly on the polished floor. Her power was very real - from her proximity, it was almost an overwhelming aura. Clearly, she wouldn't care at all for my excuses.

"I beg for your forgiveness at disturbing your evening," I continued. I was glad that my hair obscured at least part of my face from view. Even so, it was only a fleeting sense of relief. Given the nature of this place, I wasn't sure even my own thoughts were private. I could feel my hands shaking as I held them at my sides.

To think, a few moments ago I had flippantly talked to a divine being. It was more of a joke or experiment at that time, but the result was terribly clear - at least in the temples, the powers of the deities were real. Something I had always wondered is how their powers seemed to be limited outside of that rather small radius. What strange magic was at work?

Thinking back to the situation at hand, I hoped that Rhylana would understand my sincerity and forgive my mistake. If she deemed it fit to do so, then perhaps she could teach me how to pray properly.

Rhylana looked down upon the repentant mage, eyebrow cocked as a gown of shadow of light that favoured her charms without being overly grandiose. She gingerly touched her long fingers to her chin as she weight her options, he was damned, so there was little meal there for her, but he was here regardless. Vampires, as a general rule, sought out the Dar Lord himself, the great hunter, and not Rhylana. She weighed the options, musing, tapping one pale finger to her lip. She still lounged over her throne, raven hair slipping over her shoulder and down the ivory stones. The whole of the temple seemed to be made of a solid cast of ivory, flawless, and as she looked at him, she seemed to be cast of it as well. Perfection personified in monochromatic beauty.

Slowly, Rhylana descended from the dais, moving with silent and deadly grace to the kneeling vampire. She put one finger under his chin to make her look at her. “You are new to our world of gods and power, you do not know how to address us that could so easily consume all that you are. “ Her words were to the point, sweet in the worst of ways as she flashed the barest glint of her own fangs over her ruby tinted lips.

“Do not, ever, use my or any other deities name. We have titles, names are not for the use of mortals, you will address me by title or I will kill you.” It would be a meaningless death as he had no soul to add to her reliquary, she needed a living soul not that of a vampire. “What has brought you to my Ivory Court, wayward Vampire.”  her tone was serious, eyes boring into him as she weighed his threat. It was unusual for a Vampire to be here, could Dimitre have sent him to spy on her?

“You come to my home, order me about, and then beg forgiveness for being a fool and jackass. Surely you do not come from a land of no titles, no kings or queens?” At this point, she was confused, the boy should have some concept of station, more and more called her the Lady of Ill Fate, Empress of Flames, and many more titles outside of the station she head been born into. The daughter of a God, a crowned prince and one that would rain down hell fire faster than she would. Destruction was a part of life, and it was a part that she embraced when it needed to be done. Twice now widespread crop fires had killed entire wheat fields, but the crop had been bad and the burn would help the crop to come.

Since I had become a vampire all those hundreds of years ago, I had rarely ever experienced the prickling sensation of fear that caused goosebumps to form or the hair on the back of one's neck to rise. But I felt it when Rhylana - or should I say, Her Majesty - touched me in order to get me to look at her. And look I did, enchanted and terrified at the sight of her pale curvaceousness and beauty. In truth, that attraction was one of the reasons I had sought this place over the abodes of the other deities. I noticed her fangs, barely visible behind her tempting lips, and I wondered if she had anything in common with me besides vampirism. I waited a moment after she had finished speaking, not wishing to interrupt her.

"Your wishes are understood, My Lady. If I may explain both my journey and my ignorance - I was born in Endpano and moved to Wyllmochvar at a young age. There, I studied the arcane ways with few stray thoughts of Gods or worship. My instructors were all the government I had experienced. Sometime later, I met a vampire woman and was changed into one. The rest of my mere five hundred years were spent between Kurayo and Wyllmochvar. If I may be so bold, My Lady, the relationship between the Elders of Kurayo to fellow vampires, or the relationship between a Mage instructor in Wyllmochvar and his adept is somewhat removed from a deity and their worshiper. I had never thought to worship a deity until I visited one of your shrines recently in Kurayo. Being a vampire myself, I thought that a Vampire Goddess would be the most fitting choice, Empress," I managed to say with some degree of eloquence despite my fear.

Since you had beckoned me to look at you, I dared not move back to averting my eyes, instead looking upon you and awaiting judgment. Perhaps it was a mistake to come here. So far all that I had gained was a renewed hatred for rainforests and a gripping sense of fear.