The smoke rose from the alter in thick rolls. It used to choke her and sting her eyes. Now it was the only sense of home she could connect with. The black leather corset ground into her ribs as she prostrated herself before the alter. The pain was excruciating, just as it should be. As her head met the floor her shoulder length white hair fell forward, obscuring her vision.<br/>"Kayzen, Lord of Suffering, Patron of the Forsaken." her voice slid from her mouth like razors on silk. "I am yours. Now and forever. I have served you without fail. Please my lord, I beg you, deliver my enemies into my hands. Give me the strength to bring them low. Allow me to be your instrument against those pretentious fools who would ban your name from the world."<br/>The jagged metal of the alter stood impassive. Aryn approached the alter and pressed her coal black lips against an edge. She slid her hand around the back of the metal figure head. Aryn kissed the jagged metal as though it were her one true love. The blood that ran down her chin was jarringly red against her ash colored skin.<br/>"Please my lord, my revenge must come soon or not at all."<br/>Aryn knew not if her prayers would be heard. Though she did feel an odd tingling sensation.<br/><br/>The sheets were warm and clean. She swept her hands against the pillows, not wanting to open her eyes yet. She didn't recall going to bed. Perhaps her kiss with Kayzen had claimed more blood then she thought. Aryn couldn't rest any longer, the day had to be faced eventually. Aryn stretched her arms over her head, and bumped her hands against the headboard. It was then that it occurred to her that she possessed neither a headboard nor warm sheets. Her eyes snapped open. She was in a cell. A nicely furnished cell, but a cell none the less. On the other side of the bars stood a heavy set man.<br/><br/>Aryn stood and approached the bars.