Elaran falls to his knees, clutching his throat and grasping for air. "Mother- High Priestess, please! I'm sorry!"

A dark elf woman clenches her fist more tightly, watching him squirm upon the ground. "You failed me. Moreover, you failed the Mistress." She releases her grip, and Elaran coughs and breathes deep again. The woman circles his hunched form, hands clasped together before her. "Elaran...You disappoint me. I expected you, of all people, could bring her home."

"I'm sorry, High Priestess Rhahunshu." The male prostrates himself, face pressed against the stone floor. "You have my deepest apologies. She is not the same person who left the city. She has changed somehow!" His throat clenches up once more, the woman leaning in with her thumb and forefinger held close together in a pinching gesture.

"It seems I have your excuses, as well!" She hisses, closing the gap between the two digits slowly.

"Th-The light! Sh-She was surrounded by l-light!" Elaran gasps out, his vision going blurry, the bones in his neck feeling just on the verge of snapping.

Rhahunshu stops suddenly. "...Go on." Loosening her grip, she resumes the modest post of hands in front of her robes, though the fingers remain near one another.

The male elf lays prone for a long time, the woman waiting patiently. Finally, Elaran pulls himself to his knees. With a deep breath, he turned his eyes to the woman. "It's like someone was there. I could feel them, sense them, see them, and then they were gone. They looked..." He averted his gaze, but Rhahunshu pulled his chin to face her again.

"Speak, my son. Tell me what you saw, and all shall be forgiven." Her eyes grew soft, and she reached her hand up to stroke the male's head gentle as petting a kitten.

Elaran's eyes focused on the woman's, soft violet peering into cold crimson. The vision fills his mind; Anastrianna planting a blast of force in his stomach that pushed him back.

"Never again! Not on my watch!" She cried out to him. Who did she think she was, speaking to him like that? Then a figure seemed to emerge from thin air behind her. Blazing light, a bright aura, a power so much greater than any he'd encountered before, greater even than...

Elaran looks upon the woman, before the flash of memory returns. The figure's face. He focuses on the shape, the contour of her dark cheeks and chin, ashen hair of his kindred, the eyes...Those golden eyes. That's what had thrown him off. He'd never seen such eyes before, glowing like, like...The sun. Now he recognized the face he'd seen that day, mere weeks ago. Elaran swallowed the fear and nodded grimly. "It was Samara's face. It had the face of Captain Samara Noteisa."

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Rhahunshu scoffs and stands upright again, waving a hand dismissively. "Don't be ridiculous, boy. Anastrianna has not the skill for necromancy, she's not bringing the dead to life any time soon."

"No, Mother, you don't understand." He begins to rise, but the glare from the woman brings him down again.

"Explain it then, Elaran. How do you account for her sudden burst of power?" Arms fold, the gentle face is replaced with steely anger.

"It had her face, but it wasn't Samara. It was something different, something...something divine." He braces himself, looking up to the woman for her reaction. He soon has reason to wish he'd never said anything at all.

Anger gives way, first to confusion, then to understanding...and then to fury. The woman's hands lunge out and are soon at his throat, pushing him backward into the ground as she sits atop his form. Nails dig into his flesh, and she bares her teeth. A frothing rage seems to consume her. Beneath the woman, Elaran struggles, but she has his arms pinned with the weight of her legs. "M-Mother, please!" He chokes out, and the woman seems to regain her senses, sitting up and moving off the male.

"Oh! Oh, my poor Elaran!" Rhahunshu lifts his head into her lap, cradling it gently and stroking his hair."Look what you've made me do. Why, Elaran? Why did you make Mother hurt you?" Her voice is like warm honey in his ear. The woman leans down, kissing the male's head tenderly.

His mind races, his heart pounds, his fingers clench. Elaran's eyes water, and he leans into the woman's lap, face pressing to her stomach. "...I'm sorry, Mother. I'm so sorry! Please forgive me!" The stream of tears flows forth, staining the woman's robe.

She pats his head and holds him close, stroking his back with a soft shushing sound. "There now, Elaran. Mother forgives you. I forgive everything you've done...The Venom Queen does not." Her voice is suddenly cold again, as she stands and lets his head drop to the hard stone floor with a 'thwack'. Gesturing to him, she lifts a little jar sitting neatly upon her desk while two dark elves in full plate mail grab Elaran by his arms, lifting him to his feet.

"Mother, what are you doing?!" His eyes move from the woman to the jar as he pulls at the elves holding him in place.

"Take him out into the courtyard of the temple. We'll need space for this." The woman waves the elves off, and they pull the male out of the room. She pops the lid on the jar.

"Mother! You can't do this! I have served faithfully! I've served you! I love you! MOTHER!!!" His cries go unanswered as he is dragged away.

Rhahunshu slips a finger into the jar and soon withdraws it. A small shape the size of a sliced carrot round crawls across her finger and into her palm; a fat, squat spider, cleaning its fangs before looking up to her with an audible chittering noise. "The Mistress requires your sacrifice, little one. Come." Closing the jar, she sets it upon her desk and steps out of the room.

Elaran's cries are soon replaced with a scream that gives way to dead silence.