The Necromancer returns to the altar room, wearing a coat made from ancient strips of leather and cloth netting. Her eyes settle on the motionless form of Mordimus lying curled upon the altar. "Does he like this?" she asks, her voice whimsical. She glides, spinning, into the room, showing off the coat from all angles. "This is very special to me. I wear it when I belong to someone. I haven't worn it in a very long time." She looks down at herself, running a hand thoughtfully across one of the long-dried bloodstains splattered across its surface. "It's a little dirty now," she says mournfully. She looks up at Mordimus again. His eyes are closed tight. His body twitches in pain. Bright red blood oozes from the self-inflicted wound between his legs. A wry smile crosses the Necromancer's lips. "Belong," she says again, savouring the way the word feels in her mouth. "I belong to him. And he belongs to me." She giggles with delight and performs another pirhouette. "Oh, how does it feel?" she shouts, still spinning, closing her eyes in ecstasy. "Knowing that we belong to each other." She raises her arms and spins faster, laughing hard, relishing the giddy sensation. Suddenly she stops. A cloud hangs over her face. "But he worships another," she says, staring hard at the black tattoo of a skull on Mordimus' shoulder. "Kiana, the Goddess of Cruelty." She walks over to the altar and starts packing his wound with old pieces of cloth, stemming the flow of blood. "Why has She brought him to me? Is it one of Her cruel tricks?" "No," she answers herself, her eyes distant, thinking hard. "She brought him to me as a gift. She wants my help. She wants my undead legion." The Necromancer smiles and runs a hand gently through Mordimus' hair. Mordimus flinches and twists in pain. His skin turns pale under the Necromancer's deathly touch. "I shall do it," the Necromancer decares, staring into the tightly lidded eyes of her love. "I shall give him control of my legion. He will lead them in great victories. He will triumph in his mighty campaign. Together, we will crush his enemies and rid the world of evil!" The Necromancer leans over Mordimus' face, trembling with excitement, tense with anticipation. Pure love fills her eyes. "I will give him whatever he wants," she says. She kisses his forehead. At the touch of her lips, Mordimus' eyes snap open. He screams in agony. Credits: SkinVue by dburdick (3dCommune) Room by me