My ambition is my pride, it keeps me strong and driven.


‘I would like you to meet the High Priestess of Celene, Cirosa. Cirosa is in charge of the Celenian Temple and second only to the ailing High Priestess of Frayon, the Oracle of the Temple of the Great Goddess, or more simply the Temple,’ Freydel said and bowed. Cirosa said nothing and only gave a smile that was more like a smirk.

~ Freydel, Dark Moon Rising

Had the Immortal Lord’s hand not spread far and wide? Had she, Cirosa, not been the first willing person set herself up upon the hot and remote Isle of Celene? She had been here on the Goddess’s Sacred Isle running The Temple single-handedly for many years now. Had the “Dark Moon” now arisen just before she was set to become the Oracle, the High Priestess of Frayon?

She was the one chosen by the goddess and all had been going smoothly until that cursed wench arrived. Cirosa stopped pacing the halls and let go of her gown that she had been clutching tightly. But so what, that prophecy was written by a leprous hag who didn’t even know the difference between day and night.

No, Issa was not the one, she could not be; Cirosa was the one, she would make it so. She had not spent most of her life trying to make it so for nothing. A yawn forced itself upon her and she rubbed her sore eyes, but the thought of going back to bed when the raven filled nightmare was still raw in her mind kept her from it.

~ Cirosa, The Fall Of Celene


Finally Cirosa’s breath came a little easier but still her weak muscles could not move. All the while she lay there she lay in paradox. The power she had felt she could only dream of. Yet the horror of utter domination, the ease with which her mind, body and soul had been taken, crushed and conquered, she had never felt before, not even in her darkest nightmare.

And yet still I would do it again, if only to feel that power once more, if only for a second… The harpy was right, the Immortal Lord is not silent and impotent like the Goddess….

~ Cirosa, The Fall Of Celene