There is the house of people who sit in darkness

Something terrible is coming...

No longer did she drift on the currents of thought, or match her breath to the will of another, now she walked the paths of darkness as a being more than the sum of its parts, still lost, still searching. Unable to live, unable to die.

She stood before an awful being, a sombre faced man bird, he turned his stare towards her and he led the traveler away to the palace of Queen, the Queen of darkness and light, to the house of which none who entered ever returns.

There is the house of the people who sit in darkness, dust is their food and clay their meat, they are clothed like birds with wings for covering, they see no light, they sit in darkness.

She entered the house of dust and she saw the kings of the earth, their crowns put away forever, rulers and princes all who once wore kingly crowns and ruled the world in the days of old. They who had stood in the place of the gods stood now like servants, in the house of dust were high priests and acolytes, priests of the incantation and of ecstasy.

And there was the queen, the queen of the underworld, she who wields the books of the dead. The traveler raised her head, the queen saw her and spoke,

“Who has brought this one here?”

A tiny and cruel smile started to appear upon the lips of the Queen, the Queen of shadows, as a wound splitting open.

“He rises, she descends.”

Then she awoke, the woman drained of blood and flesh, who wanders alone in a waste.

Breathe life into me dark goddess