Mobed awoke on the floor within her own circle and with the torches along the wall dancing innocently. She might have thought the previous events merely a dream were it not for the dead knight’s body standing upright in the neighboring circle.
The short blond hair was now white, offsetting the ash-gray skin and deep-purple lips. Bony arms hung loosely at each side with fingernails tapered into points. The knight’s green eyes were now pure black and devoid of pupils. No breath came from the small frame.
Mobed crawled over to the table and used one of its legs to pull herself up to a standing position. She wheezed from the exertion, fighting both exhaustion and time—certain eons were stolen from her. Such was the inevitability when dealing with divine energy.
She steadied herself before addressing the dead knight now standing at attention.
“You are Rydoni no more. Flesh reborn, I dub thee Obien. Bring me the Gaokerena Root. Kill all who interfere.”