Isolde came to the mental summons from the crone. She walked in horrid fascination at the kneeling warrior, waiting humbly under the hands of the old Mother. His shiny black hair was like onyx in the moonlight and the breadth of his shoulders would have caused any seasoned soldier to pause. Isolde didn't.<br/><br/>His dark eyes, bottomless as the pits of Hades, seemed to swallow her, bitterness etched on his beautiful face. Even with only the light from the stars, she could see his fangs extend at the sight of her.<br/><br/>She knew this was the one for whom she had waited. Clasping her hands to reduce the tremors, she knew that she would submit her body to him and her very soul. Straightening her spine once more, Isolde waited.<br/><br/>The crone removed her hands from the man's head and he stood to tower over her. Isolde looked up to few people and a man much taller than her was intimidating. Tossing her hair, she breathed deeply, waiting. waiting.<br/><br/>The crone reached her hands to both of them, drawing Isolde closer. The gnarled hands placed Isolde's into the man's hands. His engulfed her and were cold as death.<br/><br/>The crone said, "So be it. Now and for all time."<br/><br/>With an explosion of smoke, ash and fire, the crone was gone, taking Isolde's last vestige of safety.