Fungal Halo

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Sometimes even a dark goddess grows weary of worship, no matter how well Her treasured follower has led Her cult, no matter how many souls have been twisted by the silver serpent-tongue of that most devoted priestess of Hers. At such times, She visits Her servant.

The priestess falls to her knees in devotion upon seeing the figure of her worship in her chambers within the profane temple. The goddess’s hand strokes her with infinite love and affection. The goddess bids her servant to rise and join her in bed.

The night is full of mutual blessings and worship. Then morning arrives, and divinity travels from one to another with a kiss. They part ways.

A new goddess steps out of the world, and Her new dark priestess assumes leadership of the cult in Her name, worship on her lips.