Return to the Desolate church

She found her wanderings returning here to the place her clan first joined in their alliance. She walked slowly into the building, inhaling the rich smell of decay and rot. Her hands travelled across each pew before reaching the modest alter, her fingers daintily tracing the designs etched into the wood. She collapsed in a crumple, burying her hands into palms as her body was wracked with sobs, her tears flowing unshamefully. Silently she wept in her own despair, her aura darkening till she was merely a black blotch against the oppressive gloom. She whispered a prayer through her tears, choking occasionally on the words she uttered. Her hands were clasped together, her knuckles white with grip.

She looked around the room, making sure she was alone. Untucking a necklace from under the high collar of her dress, she placed it on the ground. The pendant was a small black box resembling a jack-in-the-box, a small ivory handle at the side. Slowly she began to crank the handle, a small, tiny melody coming from the box. The lid began to open, a mist of blue-white light snuck out of the box, sneaking into her nostrils and mouth like smoke. She closed her eyes, sorrow turning into silent fury. Slowly her tears dried, her features becoming sharpened and hardening. Eyes closed, she slammed her hands down on the bare, rough planks of the floors, causing the stained glass in the windows to explode and shatter. She sat there, gasping for breath, her eyes darkening to an ink black. Energy pulsed from the palms of her hands and into the planks, making the church a vivid, eerie scene of pure power and fury.