The Voodoo Queen of Greater Moscow

[Valeriya]

If killing people was a damnation in Armande’s eyes, then Valeriya was dirt under his foot. Thankfully, the kill itself was not a sin. Such was a cycle of life, but the reason for such kills sent the soul to eternal torment. The question her beloved posed upon Rowan dripped with poison like the walls of the Pits dripped with sickly slime. The reason for the kills were what held Valeriya’s attention (and her judgment). The Eye saw all, and Valeriya was slow to send another Eye to her grave simply for one sin. Instead, she should be given the chance to atone like all of god’s creatures.

“You’ve sinned greatly, Rowan,” Valeriya proclaimed like the statement was the most obvious thing in the world. “And you regret your sin, I can sense that, but remorse is not enough. Everyone sins, it is why my people denounce the saints of old, sinners and hypocrites,” she sniffed derisively. “Sometimes, great ones are sent to us as human forms of the holy spirit. It is to such a Great One you now speak,” she turned her palm toward her beloved.

Then, with the fires of passion churning her eyes fervent, she leaned and gripped Rowan’s hands like a sister pleading to another. “You can atone for these sins, acknowledge the Great One, and Awaken from the darkness you now reside. I can show you how. I have done it myself.” Her thumb grazed the sweet, soft skin. Aromas of delicacies curled her senses like tantalizing smoke of Raydenyi. She wanted to sample those exotic dishes, but salvation of the soul was the greater outcome for the moment. Her own selfish whims could delay. 

Of course, those who chose to remain in the exile of darkness could not be allowed to persist. She truly hoped Rowan was willing.