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Description

[2.800 words] [Giant Serperior-TF] [Willing] [SFW]

This was a commission done for
Thank you for supporting me! ^^
------------------------------------

[2.800 words] [Giant Serperior-TF] [Willing] [SFW]

Yona took a deep breath, holding the aura within herself, and looked up to the tallest ziggurat in the city.

The midday sun formed sparkles on the rocky surface, mixed with the shimmer of the golden runes. Each block was sculpted to tell a different story: one for a celebration after the temple was complete; two for a great slaying of the primeval titans; three for victorious wars against foreign invaders who seeked to conquer their land; seven for bountiful harvests that produced enough grain to be stocked for years; sixteen for marriages between soulmates; and an uncountable series for other holy occasions.

One of the oldest carvings, from hundreds of years ago, retold the very day Yona first visited that city and had decided to stay. The rock showed a group of people with their arms raised, gazes up, in awe of… something big…

Ohhh… Yona remembered that day well, when she first was drawn by the loud music echoing in the forest. It was one of the most lifechanging events she had experienced.

Up to that point, her life consisted of service towards the vast jungle. She would commune with the animals and spirits of nature, while protecting the region from outsiders who wished to explore its riches. It was important work, and she had never felt lonely in the jungle, but after so many centuries, the days and seasons would blur into a cloudy cycle. No longer did the growth of new trees, the changing course of rivers, rise and fall of mountains, or evolution of local species seemed exciting anymore. She learned to follow those things, until they were slow and predictable. It all lacked any thrill of surprise.

And then came the music. On that one, fateful evening where a full moon shined upon the jungle.

She approached the sound out of curiosity, only to find herself in the middle of a festival, with torches, dance, mead and plenty of food. It was a human tribe.

She had never wanted to partake in the strange habits of humans, since they always treated her like a beast that had to be slain or a goddess that had to be venerated… but those people were different…

All they did, was invite her into their dance. They would continue to laugh amongst each other, telling stories and asking Yona to tell her own.

They were not scared to see her true form. Neither did they feel obliged to make offerings to her. Instead, the people cherished her like a surprise guest, much like they had also allowed the jungle’s animals to partake in the feast. Those humans were one with nature, sharing their happiness with whoever and whatever decided to show up. Yona decided to stay for “a little while”, allowing herself to have fun…

And the fun lasted…

Over the centuries, Yona had grown so used to their presence that she spent most of the time in human form. It was intriguing to blend in among the hominids at first, but overall, she found the form lackluster in comparison to her true “majesty”, as more religious tribes would call it. The human vessel did, however, have one major upside - dancing. The amount of moves it could do, all the ways it could express its inner auras - she simply loved using her arms and legs to dance!

It was fitting, then, that her true form was concealed behind a spell that could only be broken through dance.

Yona exhaled slowly. She'd rarely had to break the concealment, but on that specific day, she would have to unveil her true nature once more. Her duties as a queen required so.

Right in the middle of the city existed a huge stone pit, a hole wide enough to fit a hundred sleeping elephants, and as deep as two adults on top of each other. It was surrounded by dozens of clay basins, burning with the resinous, earthy, and slight sweetness of black copal. Positioned behind each basin, people wearing leaf garments played their drums. An air of seriousness filled their slow, heavy rhythm… that was no celebration music… that was not a party.

The rest of the population — adults, children, elders, men, women and two-souls — sat at the edge of the pit or the stairs of the ziggurats. They looked into the hole with expressions of anger, disgust and revolt. Some had their arms crossed, others had their fists clenched, and a few of them struggled to not draw an arrow and shoot.

Yona raised her arms, made a short pause, and gracefully jumped into the pit, landing on her fours with a quick thud like an animal. Although she much preferred being closer to the floor, the woman stood up again, slowly, and prepared the ritual.

The walls of the pit had been sculpted and adorned with gems, depicting soldiers with spears and bows. The floor had a colorful mosaic of green shades, combined to form the inward spiraling image of a gigantic snake with its maw wide open. In the center of it all was the source of the tribe’s contempt — a man now tied up in jungle vines, bound into a kneel.

He was still wearing his gear, complete with leather armor, sheathed sword, steel gauntlets, and long boots. His clothes were stained with blood, and it was not his own. In front of him were the two pieces of treasure he had tried to steal: a golden crown crafted to celebrate Yona’s hundredth anniversary as a queen, and a silver ring for the marriage between the people of that city and the jungle.

That man had to be judged.

------------------------------------

One of the reasons Yona loved dancing so much was because it allowed her to express things her true form couldn’t — things that words failed to describe. Every performance had a meaning.

Sometimes it would celebrate a marriage: “Like rivers who decide to share their strength and flow together towards the ocean, may your paths intertwine and your souls become one. The good people of this place have blessed you with life so that you could cherish this moment, and begin this journey to delve deeper into one another’s mysteries and become the guides for each other’s dreams.”

Yona would invite the marrying duo to the center of the pit, while everyone danced along with them, creating a twirl of joy and excitement. Leaves and flowers would rain all over them, painting the floor with the colors of the jungle. Then, those who already had their soulmates with them would make love on that soft bed of flora.

There were also occasions where she wanted to show her gratitude “To all those who had embraced her, and who had treated her like one of them. To the people who gave her another reason to protect this land. To the people who called her a queen because of love, not because of power. To the people who healed her loneliness.”

Yona would adorn long dresses made of grass, adorned with orchids. She would dance with literally everyone in town, one at a time, even if it took the whole night. There was not one bit of the population that she could not adore. At the end, she would collapse from exhaustion, then sleep with a wide grin that would reveal her fangs.

Other times, the dance would be dedicated towards foreign ambassadors: “Respect us and become our friends. All those who want to share their happiness with us are welcome. All those who want to party with us are free to stay. However, if you value our resources more than you value our friendship, you better run faster than our spears and farther than our arrows… and if you decide to stay and fight, my true face will be the final thing you see.”

Yona would dance around the ambassadors with a basket of fruits in one hand and a spear in the other. She would tease the delicious food beneath their noses, and then whiff the spear at their sides. At the end of the play, she would break the concealment spell.

But this was not any of those occasions.

At that moment, she had two performances to make. One of them would be to mourn the two guards whose lives were taken by the intruder that previous night. The other would be to deal with that man. Yona would begin with the second, because there could be no mourning without blood.

– What do you savages want from me!? – The man tried to look calm, but his arms were shaking. – You want to know who sent me here? You want names? You want a ransom? If you’ve kept me alive this far, it's because you want something! Just tell me what you want! – His voice was hoarse from how much he had been screaming.

Yona stomped her foot once…
The drums became louder.

Amidst the mesmeric beats and the fragrant haze of burning copal, she began her performance. The queen swayed to the primal beat, her long, light-green hair flowing like a waterfall of vines down her back. She was a whirlwind of nature incarnate, blurring the lines between physical and ethereal.

Indeed they wanted something from him, but it was neither one of those silly things he said. Names? Ransom? Nature had no use for those things. Nature only worries about its sustenance and about keeping the cycles going. When a plant perishes or an animal dies, the forest absorbs its nutrients and molds it into a new life. That was how things were supposed to go.

– Answer me! – The man punched the floor with his tied hands. – You damn sav… sa… s…

She stomped her other foot…
The burning basins became brighter.

As Yona moved, her dance grew more spirited, and the sway of her hips felt hypnotic. The firelight flickered across her skin, creating an otherworldly, emerald glow. The people of the city forgot about their grief for a little while, entranced by the beauty of their queen’s movements. Even the prisoner’s attention was fully “captured”… Although he had no inkling of the secret Yona harbored beneath her human guise.

That man had killed two people before their time. That was not something natural. He didn’t kill for a hunt. He didn’t kill to survive. He didn't kill during a war. He had killed two people because of greed… because he wanted to steal shiny things that could be simply made from gold found in rivers. Two lives for two artifacts made of gold. That was not natural. Balance had to be restored.

– Killer! – Yona spoke loudly, with a clear voice that echoed inside the pit. – In this jungle, there are predatorsss and preyss. There are those who hunt and those who are hunted. However, you come here as neither. You are no predator, no prey, no hunter and not a hunted… you are jussst a killer!

As Yona's lithe arms undulated through the air, tendrils of copal smoke swirled around them, coiling and caressing her limbs until it became impossible to discern where her body ended and the vapors began. Those ethereal mists, like ancient serpents, danced in sinuous harmony with Yona's movements, weaving spirals that extended toward the walls of the pit.

Her heart accelerated as invisible threads of magic pulsed inside her, each synchronized with the primal rhythms of the drums. They broke one by one, undoing the binding, slowly relinquishing their hold on the majestic beast within. Yona had made a good human, but soon she would once again play her role in the jungle.

Yona spun in place many, many times, twisting her hips with impressive elasticity that made her look like an hourglass. For the regular observer, it seemed as if she would soon split in half! But for the queen it was just a good stretch to put her muscles in place. A morning exercise after a long sleep.

And then, her once-human torso stretched, becoming flexible enough to freely bend in every conceivable direction. With each graceful twist, her spine sprouted extra vertebrae and ribs. Before everyone’s eyes, the queen ascended to almost double her previous height. Still, the transformation was far from over.

As the crowd watched in awe, the grasses woven into her dress, bracelets, and anklets stirred as if they were alive. They melded seamlessly with her skin, each blade and leaf forming another reptilian scale that shimmered with hues of lush greens, mirroring the vibrant foliage of the jungle she called home.

Her scales were tougher than any weapon, and would withstand through any natural disasters. Being covered by such living armor helped Yona feel more protected and less naked… even if her human clothes had been torn to pieces.

Her contortionism continued, with even more spinning, this time below her waist. Yona's legs stretched and twisted into a tight helix, blending into a mix of light green and dark green. They tripled in length and slightly widened to become a sinuous extension of her torso. What once were a pair of dancing limbs, now were a single slithering one that continued its wiggle gracefully without losing the rhythm. The human choreography seamlessly transitioned into wavy, undulating movements.

The two big, upward leaves hanging off her shoulders had at some point fused into her, forming something similar to a cape. That exquisite feature extended downwards and merged with her chest and belly, akin to a second skin.

The only thing left of the dancer's clothes and accessories was the collar with an engraved ruby on it. Now, the ruby was embedded into her neck.

The prisoner, still entranced by her dance and transformation, gasped as Yona's round pupils shifted into slits with a deep red tint. Her face pushed forward into a crocodilian muzzle, and her lips cracked open to reveal a smiling pair of fangs and a forked tongue. She hissed, tasting the man’s growing fear… and tasting the crowd’s bloodlust.

With a final, triumphant crescendo of drums and copal smoke swirling around her, Yona shed her human form entirely. Her arms vanished. She grew ten times in length, circling many times around her own body and forming loops within loops. She stretched upwards toward the sun, reaching a height taller than the city’s ziggurat, while still wiggling in sync with the rhythm.

Her dance was no longer just about rage but also of liberation and power. She stood as a magnificent giant serpent whose very body resembled an ancient mountain of emeralds, leaves and whirly golden details.

The primeval instincts coursed through her, bringing back the enhanced senses she loved so much. Yona perceived the vibrant energy of the earth beneath her, and the heartbeats in every rustle of the jungle’s leaves. She could smell all animals and plants within miles, knowing exactly where each of them hid — where she could find her next meal. However, none of those instincts were necessary when the prey was right under her nose.

Yona came down, little by little, bobbing her head back and forth with the rhythm, bending her body like a spring, until she rested in a basket-like bed made from herself. The tip of her tail rattled excitedly, white her eyes gazed at the prisoner in the center of the pit. Her head was big enough to swallow a whole elephant, and her fangs sharp enough to pierce mithril.

– Thisss jungie hasss no killersss! – Her voice was similar to thunder without rain. The voice of an ancestral force. – Only predatorsss and prey! Which one isss you?

The man gulped, covered in cold sweat. His confident expression was completely gone. No military training had ever prepared him for that. Fear crystallized in the corners of his eyes.

Before he could understand what was going on, two warriors from the city jumped into the pit, armed with knives, and approached him. At first, the prisoner thought they would slit his throat…

However, they cut his ropes one by one, releasing his legs and arms, then pointed to the sword in front of him. The very blade he used to kill.

– You fight! – Said one of them, in a harsh tone.

– Die as a prey or survive as a predator! – Said the other.

The warriors stepped back and allowed the man to process the information…

He picked up his weapon…

He stood up in a fighting stance…

He stared at the serpentine monster…

He failed to stop his hands from shaking…

…

He was no longer a mercenary…

He was a sacrifice…

And possibly, a very delicious one.

.

.

.

.

.

Thanks very much to my dear friend and proofreader

Commission journal:
www.deviantart.com/phyrexianre…

Description

[2.800 words] [Giant Serperior-TF] [Willing] [SFW]

This was a commission done for
Thank you for supporting me! ^^
------------------------------------

[2.800 words] [Giant Serperior-TF] [Willing] [SFW]

Yona took a deep breath, holding the aura within herself, and looked up to the tallest ziggurat in the city.

The midday sun formed sparkles on the rocky surface, mixed with the shimmer of the golden runes. Each block was sculpted to tell a different story: one for a celebration after the temple was complete; two for a great slaying of the primeval titans; three for victorious wars against foreign invaders who seeked to conquer their land; seven for bountiful harvests that produced enough grain to be stocked for years; sixteen for marriages between soulmates; and an uncountable series for other holy occasions.

One of the oldest carvings, from hundreds of years ago, retold the very day Yona first visited that city and had decided to stay. The rock showed a group of people with their arms raised, gazes up, in awe of… something big…

Ohhh… Yona remembered that day well, when she first was drawn by the loud music echoing in the forest. It was one of the most lifechanging events she had experienced.

Up to that point, her life consisted of service towards the vast jungle. She would commune with the animals and spirits of nature, while protecting the region from outsiders who wished to explore its riches. It was important work, and she had never felt lonely in the jungle, but after so many centuries, the days and seasons would blur into a cloudy cycle. No longer did the growth of new trees, the changing course of rivers, rise and fall of mountains, or evolution of local species seemed exciting anymore. She learned to follow those things, until they were slow and predictable. It all lacked any thrill of surprise.

And then came the music. On that one, fateful evening where a full moon shined upon the jungle.

She approached the sound out of curiosity, only to find herself in the middle of a festival, with torches, dance, mead and plenty of food. It was a human tribe.

She had never wanted to partake in the strange habits of humans, since they always treated her like a beast that had to be slain or a goddess that had to be venerated… but those people were different…

All they did, was invite her into their dance. They would continue to laugh amongst each other, telling stories and asking Yona to tell her own.

They were not scared to see her true form. Neither did they feel obliged to make offerings to her. Instead, the people cherished her like a surprise guest, much like they had also allowed the jungle’s animals to partake in the feast. Those humans were one with nature, sharing their happiness with whoever and whatever decided to show up. Yona decided to stay for “a little while”, allowing herself to have fun…

And the fun lasted…

Over the centuries, Yona had grown so used to their presence that she spent most of the time in human form. It was intriguing to blend in among the hominids at first, but overall, she found the form lackluster in comparison to her true “majesty”, as more religious tribes would call it. The human vessel did, however, have one major upside - dancing. The amount of moves it could do, all the ways it could express its inner auras - she simply loved using her arms and legs to dance!

It was fitting, then, that her true form was concealed behind a spell that could only be broken through dance.

Yona exhaled slowly. She'd rarely had to break the concealment, but on that specific day, she would have to unveil her true nature once more. Her duties as a queen required so.

Right in the middle of the city existed a huge stone pit, a hole wide enough to fit a hundred sleeping elephants, and as deep as two adults on top of each other. It was surrounded by dozens of clay basins, burning with the resinous, earthy, and slight sweetness of black copal. Positioned behind each basin, people wearing leaf garments played their drums. An air of seriousness filled their slow, heavy rhythm… that was no celebration music… that was not a party.

The rest of the population — adults, children, elders, men, women and two-souls — sat at the edge of the pit or the stairs of the ziggurats. They looked into the hole with expressions of anger, disgust and revolt. Some had their arms crossed, others had their fists clenched, and a few of them struggled to not draw an arrow and shoot.

Yona raised her arms, made a short pause, and gracefully jumped into the pit, landing on her fours with a quick thud like an animal. Although she much preferred being closer to the floor, the woman stood up again, slowly, and prepared the ritual.

The walls of the pit had been sculpted and adorned with gems, depicting soldiers with spears and bows. The floor had a colorful mosaic of green shades, combined to form the inward spiraling image of a gigantic snake with its maw wide open. In the center of it all was the source of the tribe’s contempt — a man now tied up in jungle vines, bound into a kneel.

He was still wearing his gear, complete with leather armor, sheathed sword, steel gauntlets, and long boots. His clothes were stained with blood, and it was not his own. In front of him were the two pieces of treasure he had tried to steal: a golden crown crafted to celebrate Yona’s hundredth anniversary as a queen, and a silver ring for the marriage between the people of that city and the jungle.

That man had to be judged.

------------------------------------

One of the reasons Yona loved dancing so much was because it allowed her to express things her true form couldn’t — things that words failed to describe. Every performance had a meaning.

Sometimes it would celebrate a marriage: “Like rivers who decide to share their strength and flow together towards the ocean, may your paths intertwine and your souls become one. The good people of this place have blessed you with life so that you could cherish this moment, and begin this journey to delve deeper into one another’s mysteries and become the guides for each other’s dreams.”

Yona would invite the marrying duo to the center of the pit, while everyone danced along with them, creating a twirl of joy and excitement. Leaves and flowers would rain all over them, painting the floor with the colors of the jungle. Then, those who already had their soulmates with them would make love on that soft bed of flora.

There were also occasions where she wanted to show her gratitude “To all those who had embraced her, and who had treated her like one of them. To the people who gave her another reason to protect this land. To the people who called her a queen because of love, not because of power. To the people who healed her loneliness.”

Yona would adorn long dresses made of grass, adorned with orchids. She would dance with literally everyone in town, one at a time, even if it took the whole night. There was not one bit of the population that she could not adore. At the end, she would collapse from exhaustion, then sleep with a wide grin that would reveal her fangs.

Other times, the dance would be dedicated towards foreign ambassadors: “Respect us and become our friends. All those who want to share their happiness with us are welcome. All those who want to party with us are free to stay. However, if you value our resources more than you value our friendship, you better run faster than our spears and farther than our arrows… and if you decide to stay and fight, my true face will be the final thing you see.”

Yona would dance around the ambassadors with a basket of fruits in one hand and a spear in the other. She would tease the delicious food beneath their noses, and then whiff the spear at their sides. At the end of the play, she would break the concealment spell.

But this was not any of those occasions.

At that moment, she had two performances to make. One of them would be to mourn the two guards whose lives were taken by the intruder that previous night. The other would be to deal with that man. Yona would begin with the second, because there could be no mourning without blood.

– What do you savages want from me!? – The man tried to look calm, but his arms were shaking. – You want to know who sent me here? You want names? You want a ransom? If you’ve kept me alive this far, it's because you want something! Just tell me what you want! – His voice was hoarse from how much he had been screaming.

Yona stomped her foot once…
The drums became louder.

Amidst the mesmeric beats and the fragrant haze of burning copal, she began her performance. The queen swayed to the primal beat, her long, light-green hair flowing like a waterfall of vines down her back. She was a whirlwind of nature incarnate, blurring the lines between physical and ethereal.

Indeed they wanted something from him, but it was neither one of those silly things he said. Names? Ransom? Nature had no use for those things. Nature only worries about its sustenance and about keeping the cycles going. When a plant perishes or an animal dies, the forest absorbs its nutrients and molds it into a new life. That was how things were supposed to go.

– Answer me! – The man punched the floor with his tied hands. – You damn sav… sa… s…

She stomped her other foot…
The burning basins became brighter.

As Yona moved, her dance grew more spirited, and the sway of her hips felt hypnotic. The firelight flickered across her skin, creating an otherworldly, emerald glow. The people of the city forgot about their grief for a little while, entranced by the beauty of their queen’s movements. Even the prisoner’s attention was fully “captured”… Although he had no inkling of the secret Yona harbored beneath her human guise.

That man had killed two people before their time. That was not something natural. He didn’t kill for a hunt. He didn’t kill to survive. He didn't kill during a war. He had killed two people because of greed… because he wanted to steal shiny things that could be simply made from gold found in rivers. Two lives for two artifacts made of gold. That was not natural. Balance had to be restored.

– Killer! – Yona spoke loudly, with a clear voice that echoed inside the pit. – In this jungle, there are predatorsss and preyss. There are those who hunt and those who are hunted. However, you come here as neither. You are no predator, no prey, no hunter and not a hunted… you are jussst a killer!

As Yona's lithe arms undulated through the air, tendrils of copal smoke swirled around them, coiling and caressing her limbs until it became impossible to discern where her body ended and the vapors began. Those ethereal mists, like ancient serpents, danced in sinuous harmony with Yona's movements, weaving spirals that extended toward the walls of the pit.

Her heart accelerated as invisible threads of magic pulsed inside her, each synchronized with the primal rhythms of the drums. They broke one by one, undoing the binding, slowly relinquishing their hold on the majestic beast within. Yona had made a good human, but soon she would once again play her role in the jungle.

Yona spun in place many, many times, twisting her hips with impressive elasticity that made her look like an hourglass. For the regular observer, it seemed as if she would soon split in half! But for the queen it was just a good stretch to put her muscles in place. A morning exercise after a long sleep.

And then, her once-human torso stretched, becoming flexible enough to freely bend in every conceivable direction. With each graceful twist, her spine sprouted extra vertebrae and ribs. Before everyone’s eyes, the queen ascended to almost double her previous height. Still, the transformation was far from over.

As the crowd watched in awe, the grasses woven into her dress, bracelets, and anklets stirred as if they were alive. They melded seamlessly with her skin, each blade and leaf forming another reptilian scale that shimmered with hues of lush greens, mirroring the vibrant foliage of the jungle she called home.

Her scales were tougher than any weapon, and would withstand through any natural disasters. Being covered by such living armor helped Yona feel more protected and less naked… even if her human clothes had been torn to pieces.

Her contortionism continued, with even more spinning, this time below her waist. Yona's legs stretched and twisted into a tight helix, blending into a mix of light green and dark green. They tripled in length and slightly widened to become a sinuous extension of her torso. What once were a pair of dancing limbs, now were a single slithering one that continued its wiggle gracefully without losing the rhythm. The human choreography seamlessly transitioned into wavy, undulating movements.

The two big, upward leaves hanging off her shoulders had at some point fused into her, forming something similar to a cape. That exquisite feature extended downwards and merged with her chest and belly, akin to a second skin.

The only thing left of the dancer's clothes and accessories was the collar with an engraved ruby on it. Now, the ruby was embedded into her neck.

The prisoner, still entranced by her dance and transformation, gasped as Yona's round pupils shifted into slits with a deep red tint. Her face pushed forward into a crocodilian muzzle, and her lips cracked open to reveal a smiling pair of fangs and a forked tongue. She hissed, tasting the man’s growing fear… and tasting the crowd’s bloodlust.

With a final, triumphant crescendo of drums and copal smoke swirling around her, Yona shed her human form entirely. Her arms vanished. She grew ten times in length, circling many times around her own body and forming loops within loops. She stretched upwards toward the sun, reaching a height taller than the city’s ziggurat, while still wiggling in sync with the rhythm.

Her dance was no longer just about rage but also of liberation and power. She stood as a magnificent giant serpent whose very body resembled an ancient mountain of emeralds, leaves and whirly golden details.

The primeval instincts coursed through her, bringing back the enhanced senses she loved so much. Yona perceived the vibrant energy of the earth beneath her, and the heartbeats in every rustle of the jungle’s leaves. She could smell all animals and plants within miles, knowing exactly where each of them hid — where she could find her next meal. However, none of those instincts were necessary when the prey was right under her nose.

Yona came down, little by little, bobbing her head back and forth with the rhythm, bending her body like a spring, until she rested in a basket-like bed made from herself. The tip of her tail rattled excitedly, white her eyes gazed at the prisoner in the center of the pit. Her head was big enough to swallow a whole elephant, and her fangs sharp enough to pierce mithril.

– Thisss jungie hasss no killersss! – Her voice was similar to thunder without rain. The voice of an ancestral force. – Only predatorsss and prey! Which one isss you?

The man gulped, covered in cold sweat. His confident expression was completely gone. No military training had ever prepared him for that. Fear crystallized in the corners of his eyes.

Before he could understand what was going on, two warriors from the city jumped into the pit, armed with knives, and approached him. At first, the prisoner thought they would slit his throat…

However, they cut his ropes one by one, releasing his legs and arms, then pointed to the sword in front of him. The very blade he used to kill.

– You fight! – Said one of them, in a harsh tone.

– Die as a prey or survive as a predator! – Said the other.

The warriors stepped back and allowed the man to process the information…

He picked up his weapon…

He stood up in a fighting stance…

He stared at the serpentine monster…

He failed to stop his hands from shaking…

…

He was no longer a mercenary…

He was a sacrifice…

And possibly, a very delicious one.

.

.

.

.

.

Thanks very much to my dear friend and proofreader

Commission journal:
www.deviantart.com/phyrexianre…