Ever since that feeling of loss, and then Dalanesca's rebirth, something felt unsettled. Mirannda wanted to brush it off as a new feeling, being connected to someone as she found herself with the goddess. Maybe she was just being extra paranoid, or a worry-wart for no reason. It did not change the fact that the phoenix had yet to step foot in her goddess's domain. She was a bit nervous about that, as it was a place a phoenix was destined to never see without divine intervention.

Mirannda boarded the yew boat shrouded with the darkness that could only be Dalanesca's ward against the weak of heart. While she stood stoically, her hand gripped the crystalized hellfire pendant. The goddess had said it would grant her safe passage through her domain. She did not doubt the goddess, no, it was the grip of faith. The boat started out smoothly, unguided by any physical means until the endless abyss swallowed boat and phoenix. Her stomach lurched into her throat as her head spun with the sudden drop, everything smoothing out as she found herself on the River of Grief.

She peered out into the dark landscape, with naught but that red brimstone as any form of light to illuminate anything. Yew trees lined the river banks, followed by yellow carnations. The red brimstone made them have an orange hue. With it, Mirannda got a brief feeling of failure, an all too familiar feeling, before it disappeared as the hellfire flared under her hand. Petunias and anger, then camellia and a sense of calm, soon to be replaced by a sense of want. Each time, the hellfire pendant flared, purifying her of the effects. Before her towered a burning gate of brimstone filling her with an odd sense of pride and impatience.

Upon passing through the gate, the hellfire pendant flared once more as it unlocked her next destination. Bypassing the nine circles of trials, Mirannda stood at the beginning of a courtyard full of dying plants. She cocked her head to the side as she took in the sight of the mix of silver, ruby, and onyx. It worked on many levels, yet still filled her with a sense of sadness of lost life, a gardener's hope withered. As the phoenix began walking up the silver path, the first soul she has seen since entering the realm was approaching her.

Dalanesca could sense her champion’s arrival from the moment she stepped foot into her realm. The connection between the two, even though they had not seen one another in quite some time, was as strong as ever, and there was no way that her presence would go unnoticed. At the moment of Mirannda’s arrival, Dalanesca sat in her library, pouring over a book that she had refused to read in an incredibly long time.

The tome in question was one that Story had shown interest in when the pair had first met one another. It had been important to the research the pair had been conducting on something, but that task was long gone from her life… as was Story. At first, when she thought of her past love, a warm, fuzzy feeling washed over her body. She was unsure that, although she held some sort of love for someone now, she would ever love someone again in the way that she had felt for him. When the thoughts of how he had disappeared from her, only to be rather dismayed upon his return that she had taken a new lover, the warm, fuzzy feeling faded into something cold and unknown - sadness, perhaps.

She closed the book as she prepared to step outside to meet Mirannda, making an attempt to push her thoughts of Story from her mind - a futile attempt, but she managed to at least bury them beneath the surface. It was something she was going to have to address at another point and time, but for now, Mirannda deserved the full amount of her attention.

As she pushed through the gates and stepped into the courtyard, a smirk crossed her lips as her champion came into view. ”And there she is,” she said, loudly enough for Mirannda to hear her. She picked up the pace of her feet by a bit and made her way to the phoenix, embracing her tightly. She inhaled deeply as she hugged her, the scent of her blood almost becoming overpowering to her. The desires she had obtained, if one could call it that, after her death and resurrection, were something that she was beginning to be able to control, but it was never easy. She was sure that the connection between the two made Mirannda’s blood smell even more inviting - and she knew that eventually, she would have to ask her champion to allow her to feed from her - but there was time for that.

”Nice to see you, as always, Mirannda,” she said, her voice taking its normal smooth and sultry tone. ”It’s been too long. What brings you to me this evening?” she asked, curious as to what it was that had spawned a visit from her champion after such a long time away.

Dalanesca greeted her with an air of fondness. Coupled with the hug, Mirannda truly felt like she was greeting one of her best friends that had been missed. ”You look radiant, my friend.” She made a sweeping gesture towards the gardens. ”Your place is quite the sight. Didn't know quite what to expect, but this is exquisite. I bet gardeners would wish to try and bring life back to the plants though.” The phoenix took a couple of steps towards the centerpiece, spreading her arms as she turned back towards Dalanesca.

Admiration of the hidden, gothic beauty melted into a somber expression, her arms falling to her side. ”Anyway, I came to check on you.” Mirannda's voice fell into concern as she regarded her goddess. Death could not have been kind to her, plus something still felt off. As far as she can tell, something had changed with Dalanesca. Now that they had time alone, perhaps she would be more willing to confide in her?

”And, perhaps talk about something else? About me? I'm… I'm scared, Dalanesca. Is there somewhere we can talk without the possibilities of eavesdropping?” Whatever was happening, it was becoming more frequent, and each time is as traumatic as the last, even if the recovery process is nowhere near as long. If there was anyone she could turn to, it was the Reaper.

The Reaper couldn’t help but to beam as Mirannda complimented her appearance. It then dawned on her that, though their connection was strong, Mirannda had yet to see the inner workings of her realm. Luxuria Mortiferum was an entirely new place for her. ”You have my thanks, Mirannda,” she said. ”I take pride in the way my gardens appear,” she added, though it was clear that she did not take what her champion said regarding the foliage as a slight. ”Those plants are in memory of my dear Katja, a child that lived in my belly but never walked the mortal plane,” she said, her voice echoing with the sadness that she still felt from the loss of her child.

The concern her champion expressed for her warmed her heart, if only for a moment. ”You came to check on me? Well, I do appreciate that, Mirannda, though you know I can hold my own,” she said, though her voice trailed off, an indication that she knew exactly what the phoenix meant. She had shared a small portion of what had happened to her with Mirannda, though there were quite a few intimate details that had been left out. Dalanesca had a feeling, however, that those details would soon come to light. She was going to have to ask her champion for a favor, and she wasn’t entirely sure how her champion was going to respond to such a request.

It seemed that the topics shifted, however, and Mirannda expressed to her patron goddess that she was afraid of something. But what that was, Dalanesca could not put her finger on. ”Of course there is, love, come with me,” she said, and within moments the pair made their way into Paraiso Venenum, situated at the center of the goddess’s realm. She instructed the Mutum to leave her and her guest alone until they were called for specifically by name, but only after they had left a small array of beverages for the ladies.

”Please, sit,” she said, indicating for Mirannda to take a seat on one of the lounge chairs, as she in turn sat down on one of her own. ”We will not be bothered here,” she added, and poured a glass of wine for the phoenix from the decanter of red liquid that sat on the table near her. She handed it to her. ”Tell me, now, what is it that is troubling you?”

A confident smile beamed at Dalanesca. ”Of course! Of that, I have absolutely no doubt.” Even as she expressed her assurance in the goddess’s capabilities, Mirannda’s heart ached for her. She has not yet had the misfortune of losing a child. Worse must be the pain of all possibilities being ripped from mother and child if the offspring never took a breath. Mirannda did not envy the goddess for the heartache of that situation. Knowing the reasoning of the garden made her appreciate it that much more.

Out of one garden and into another, the phoenix gazed in wonder. Many of the plants here she recognized, and she knew how deadly each of them could be. Even the centerpiece fountain was gorgeous and expertly crafted, with a suspicion that the complimenting red liquid flowing from it was just as deadly as everything else. Mirannda sat and watched the silent servants move to obey their master. Once upon a time, she was just like them, but she wondered if she was still classified as such. Was there anything that truly separated her from that title, servant? Anything other than the mere freedom to roam away from the puppeteer pulling their strings? Her fingers wrapped around the offered glass, taking an immediate sip to calm and distract herself.

”Guess I should start from the beginning. Before being thrust to Revaliir, an eclipse blanketed the world in darkness. That was when it first started.” She went into detail about how she deteriorated into a very weak state. It felt like she was falling deeper and farther away from the life-giving Mother Flame. Mirannda had slipped into a deep sleep, one she feared would have been her last. For weeks after, she was still weak and out of sorts, which was when she was ripped from one world and dropped in the next.

Everything had to be relearned, from the most basic of spells to her mastery of flame and shadow. A year after, she fell again into a similar lack of connection to her flame. Then again six months later, and three months. Now it was escalated to monthly. Akin to a woman’s natural cycle, Mirannda fell ill and was completely at the mercy of her environment, wherever she was at the time. ”Every new moon, the darkest night of the month. But now, I am only weakened for a full day after I wake. You won’t let me die, would you?” It was clear that the phoenix was afraid of permanent death occurring during these fainting episodes.