To anyone else in the room, there would only be silence.
Iara heard singing.
The Ebony Throne was a barren tree as old and magnificent as the world. Its black branches spread and extended majestically throughout the high, dome-ceilings of the Hall. At its base was a wide, flat seat supported by the large trunk and fur throws. Only Iara herself knew the truth of what this tree was — like the Bone Crown, it was a part A’Esha’s horns, the magnificent, forest-like bone antlers on her head. Firmly rooted into the depths of Hell and beyond, it breathed life into the realm.
Feeling Iara’s presence now, the Throne warmly called out to her. It had missed her, it belonged to her…
Numbly, almost blankly, Iara took a slow, possessive step onto the plum-carpeted aisle; then advanced with her eyes f
