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Description
The lofty depths of the dark and vaulted ceiling cascaded their shadowy appendages to skirt along the sides and down the stately marble columns of the extravagant chamber. No expense had been spared, and yet all was not quiet in the sacred temple of the entombed. A shadow moved, parting from the mass of darkness that aligned the outskirts patiently, and joining with the steps of a young maiden. She wandered row after row, seeking and not finding. Her lips were pursed in deep thought as she continued her solemn vigil. What brought her here? What sort of waking dream had she stumbled into?
The answer was not far behind.
The shadows in her wake coalesced and grew, drawing in the stagnation for strength in its dark designs. It loomed up, tall and powerful; a veritable master in his rightful domain. She turned, and there he stood. Death. The maiden did not turn away, nor did she make a move to flee into the safety of the lights in the waking world beyond and far above. Her eyes met the empty gaze calmly, offering a humble bow to the ruler of these depths. He took this in step, repeating the motion with a courteous lowering of the cloaked skull. No words were needed now, and the very presence of this grave guardian silenced all question or extra thought in her mind.
She knew what drew her here...and why.
A single hand extended, cold and strong as it was offered to her. She did not hesitate. Her once warm hand rested in his, and the bony fingers softly closed about it before drawing her forward to where the polished tile waited. All was awash in the golden glow of the candles...a fitting atmosphere for the exquisitely grim enclosure. She moved willingly, the other skeletal hand settling upon her waist while her hand moved to the tattered cloth over his clavicle and scapula. Even in the warm glow, she felt a chill here, though that was easily attributed to the nature of her companion. She did not even seem to mind as it traveled up her own arm, the skin shifting to a paler hue as Death took the lead.
The dance was begun...

Description
The lofty depths of the dark and vaulted ceiling cascaded their shadowy appendages to skirt along the sides and down the stately marble columns of the extravagant chamber. No expense had been spared, and yet all was not quiet in the sacred temple of the entombed. A shadow moved, parting from the mass of darkness that aligned the outskirts patiently, and joining with the steps of a young maiden. She wandered row after row, seeking and not finding. Her lips were pursed in deep thought as she continued her solemn vigil. What brought her here? What sort of waking dream had she stumbled into?
The answer was not far behind.
The shadows in her wake coalesced and grew, drawing in the stagnation for strength in its dark designs. It loomed up, tall and powerful; a veritable master in his rightful domain. She turned, and there he stood. Death. The maiden did not turn away, nor did she make a move to flee into the safety of the lights in the waking world beyond and far above. Her eyes met the empty gaze calmly, offering a humble bow to the ruler of these depths. He took this in step, repeating the motion with a courteous lowering of the cloaked skull. No words were needed now, and the very presence of this grave guardian silenced all question or extra thought in her mind.
She knew what drew her here...and why.
A single hand extended, cold and strong as it was offered to her. She did not hesitate. Her once warm hand rested in his, and the bony fingers softly closed about it before drawing her forward to where the polished tile waited. All was awash in the golden glow of the candles...a fitting atmosphere for the exquisitely grim enclosure. She moved willingly, the other skeletal hand settling upon her waist while her hand moved to the tattered cloth over his clavicle and scapula. Even in the warm glow, she felt a chill here, though that was easily attributed to the nature of her companion. She did not even seem to mind as it traveled up her own arm, the skin shifting to a paler hue as Death took the lead.
The dance was begun...