[i]The rest of the ceremony proceeded, the sword falling first to her left shoulder. Some words were said, in a language somehow both harsh and elegant all the same, words lost to time and yet pervading all throughout it, their weight falling upon her shoulders. Around her, the world seemed to slip into water color, reality waxing, waning, and bleeding. Around her, the hills, plains, and forests of Tatakai shifted into an ancient hall, filled with the greatest of treasures, decorated and built in such beauty as had never before been seen, and would never be seen again. The sword lifted over her head, and fell again flat upon her right shoulder, followed by more words. Lastly, the sword lifts up to her head, falling flat upon the crown of her skull. The atmosphere now was oppressive, and physically heavy upon Widow. Should she try, she would find she could not even lift her head to look up. After another sentence of the alien language, the shifting stopped, what colors of the hall there were now began to slip away, like so much water down the drain. The weight that had been layer upon her was lifted, gingerly, like a blanket peeled back by a caring parent in the morning.[/i] "[b]Anna Young...your King has spoken...[/b]" [i]The King extended his arm to the side, flipping the weapon in his hand back to a reverse grip. Letting go of it, the blade hung in air as it began to dissolve into golden dust, scattering to the sky before disappearing completely.[/i] "[b]You are to be...[/b]" [i]He croons, looking down on her with those brilliant red eyes.[/i] "[b]...my example.[/b]" [i]What senses she had would be screaming at her now, tearing themselves apart from the lustful turned murderous tone of the King. Whether that would save her from the seven various weapons that had been launched at her back from the portals he'd opened four feet behind her at the start of the "ceremony."[/i]