Dimensions above the mortal night, in the radiant heart of her own domain, Goddess Lilyanna was fighting for her existence.
The assault had come in the deep of that night, without herald or declaration.
One heartbeat of stillness, then the stain on her cheek had torn open from the inside, and the Withered Flame had poured through the breach in her own skin.
Ash-scented fire rolled through corridors that had never known heat.
Planes of layered starlight buckled inward one after another, and every surface that failed turned the color of a dying ember before her will forced it back.
The blight on her cheek burned like a hook set in bone. Through it, patient and immense, Sel'Ashra pulled.
"Kekeke..." The laughter arrived from every direction at once, warm as a banked forge. "You feel thinner than last time, Little One. Does nobody pray properly anymore?"
