The remniscing ghoul found themselves wavering in a trance, their back pressed against a tree as the faceless expression of Byson's insignia laid its gaze outwards into the open. The inner-most depths of the Wychwood forest helped to keep the declining occultist's mind at bay... for the most it could give.


---


It wasn't long before the hesitant pause dispelled from the aging Trillie's face. It had been so long since her death had been faked -- treachery was abound at some point. Power was all she could gain now- to protect her children, to ensure their future as Byson's proprietors, and paragons of occultism. Pyralis had tried so many a time to teach the Malpercius her heritage, Auron had tried to convince her of the wonders of sacrifice; how foolish she was to take it by a grain of salt.


"This is for you, father..."


The soft murmur breezed from her lips, as the arm of Pyralis edged ever so close to the nub of her arm. Sinewy strands of muscle it composed of, slithering as she held it closer- the scent of tainted blood alluring them to near unto Trillie's stump. The hubris of Kraus' creation was ready to overtake the fallen queen.

Skin and flesh are torn from her nub in horrifying agony, devoured by the very limb's innards- strands of the demonic arm's own volition quick to seize her nervous connections. Proliferiting bones coil up in a grueling display against the countours of the owl-esque arm, only stopping so that their sharp ends could dig at the woman's shoulder, adhering the limb in place.

Twisted perversion of the bloodline's curse and folly took onto full throttle, coalesced strands of purple muscle and yokai flesh, intertwining and exchanging into a bond of pure malice. The purple and black would soon intrude into the red and warm... filling the brain with the grotesque pleasures of sacrifice in a prolonged interlude of suffering and pain.

But soon enough, it ends. It was over... she borne the boon and curse of sacrifice, an immortalization of her father's will. The golden tipped talons at the end of her demonic fingers sharper than ever; pure bewilderment and utter incredulity consuming her expression as she flexed the fingers of her right arm, looking down upon it for the first time in a decade.

Trillie Malpercius had finally embraced her surname.


---


(Trillie Malpercius)