a necromancer and a priestess walk into a confessional

[fefellocaelum]

catch-all for the dipshittery for these two. god help them both.

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[fefellocaelum]

Oh, she is. She has been since I was defeated all of those years ago; watching and waiting for me to stray from the path I've chosen.

[Amaya will at least lift her other arm to help him a bit with it--the black patches of scales are far more prevalent here, and the hand seems to have almost turned pitch black from the overuse of power here. It's fading slowly back to that pale skin of Amaya's, but the scales here are much more hardy and formed. Though uninjured, notably. The rest of her arm got that much.]

...I don't regret using it. Using her for all she's worth, for what she caused. It's a fitting fate for her and I, to be damned down this path eternally. If she's going to reside inside of me, she can at least be useful--