For the Goddess of Magic, Nami from her Warrior, Arozand: A horned skull with the sigil of her realm meticulously carved into the forehead, a sphere of aether sitting within its jaws leaking ethereal wisps through the house of bone, a wreath of various woven herbs encircling the altar, some poisonous death and some with miracles in their leaves, all tied together with locks of thick sable hair.
A creaking of wood, a sound denoting the autonomous parting of branches giving way to a body of light: the arrival of the summoned Goddess. Her long, wavy golden hair, lightened to ash by the darkness of night in which she steeped herself, flowed around her almost weightlessly, tendrils curling here and there as she moved, nay, glided through the wood till she found herself in the clearing of her altar. Moon-blue eyes poured over the kneeling warrior, observing his battle worn body and the undoused fire pooled in his gaze.
She did not yet speak, instead she drifted closer to pluck up the skull, holding it aloft in her clawed left hand. As she stared into the dark, empty sockets where eyes once rest, Nami could see the creature’s past life - a raging beast who wrought carnage upon the land and stained its soil with blood. It was clearly a demon of great power, yet fell to the blade of the man knelt before her. The aether held in the jaws of the skull was an offering quite unlike any she’d before received; the signature of it, the sensation of its pulse vibrated at the same frequency of the warrior who proffered it. Yet still it held some remnant of the creature whose skull she held in her grasp; he had consumed the aether of this conquest after it’s defeat. This brought a smile to the Goddess’ lips. His was a gift not only of the flesh, of the tangible, but of the soul.
“Rise, and be blessed, great warrior. For with this offering, you have gained mine favour,” came the resonating song of her voice. It reverberated off the trees and sent birds fluttering from their nests, so imperious and penetrating was the sound. Her right hand dipped to lift his chin, that he might meet her gaze unimpeded.
“For the skull of this beast, and for the aether which conquered and consumed it, you shall have a strength and power unmatched by any mortal who yet walks this star.” At this, the Goddess lifted the skull to face her own and opened her mouth, the orb of aether being drawn from the bone cage which held it in a streaking mist. A network of silver tattoos lit from beneath her ethereal skin as the aether mingled with her own, a signing of a contract that would end not even with this mortal’s death. Once the aether had been consumed entirely, her eyes flicked down to meet Arozand’s burning gaze once more, and her right hand fell to stroke the thick braid of sable hair that rest upon his shoulder. “For the wreath of herbs twined with thine hair, you shall have immunity to any poisons your enemies might bestow upon you, and your wounds - no matter how great - shall heal at a rate unfathomable to the chirurgeons and scholars of this realm,” and with this, the Goddess withdrew her hand from the warrior, instead joining it in clutching the demon skull to her breast. “Go now, and become mine champion. And may this wood serve as a haven for you when you are weary.”@arozand-xiv
