“Mistress.  The Betrayer opened the Way.”

“Mistress.”

“Mistress.”

The adoring chorus sang the words – and they were sweet to her ears. “And the templars?”

“Coming, as you foresaw.”

“Coming.”

“Coming.”

 

She smiled, sharp teeth white against coal-black skin, her wings unfurling in flame. “Good.  My devoted Zenzorem – you will be avenged.  Ready the chorus, my dear ones.  Ready the song.  Bring me the Broken One, and ready the wolf-cages.  All that we have hoped for arises, remember now your place.  Go forth and seek them – find their camp, and watch them.  Bring back word of where they go to ground.  Fly, sweetlings – fly and find them.”

The eredar around the greater demon nearly sobbed as they heard her speak, overcome – and they spilled forth, away from the great couch, and her wings of flame.  

 

Seeking.  Watching.

Author Aunne
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