Mistress, make me your instrument...
I have failed.
I was unable to fulfill my mistress’ commands. Lady Artemis demanded that I cleanse Aeternum from the disease of humanity, but I am defeated. My glorious hercyne are routed, and the Elysian Wilds is in the hands of the enemy. The putrefaction of this most sacred place will continue, all because of my frailty.
I gave to my mistress, all that I am. My home. My blood. My very soul. But it was not enough…
Perhaps it was always the destiny of humanity, once rendered immortal, to supplant the gods. To defy their will and to remake this world in their own image. Perhaps this doom was inevitable, and the time of the faithful has ended. In this godless world, is there a place for priests and supplicants? I yearn to crawl into the shadows of the earth, and await the passing of this epoch.
And yet, my heart stirs with outrage at these craven and unworthy thoughts. Shall I surrender so easily? Is there truly nothing to be done? I can sense, deep within the shadows of my soul, a source of power that I have yet to awaken. It stirs at the thought of revenge…
I shall follow this instinct where it leads, to my utter doom or grim salvation.