Senua

The Pythonissa of Palus Grove. Among the last remaining feral drakons of ancient lore. Legend told of three sisters that cleared the Grove of great evil by allowing it to inhabit their bodies forever more. They battled endlessly, driven mad with evil power, an urge to gain control of the forest prompted them to fight, until a last sibling remained.

Soror Senua. Senua, the Horned Sister. What remained of her once proud lineage of ancient drakon harboured slivers in her, replaced by a dark and unrelenting evil. Wings torn from battle, all knew well to stay away from Palus Grove. None could live within its pine confines without being hunted. Her talons clung to the branches and she snarled, blood stuck to her face and spit strung from her sharp, deformed teeth. She flinched at the passing of birds, hissing and twitching at them, slithering down the trees to hide from their songs.

She crawled home. A ruin, once a mighty temple, left to crumble. Her wings spread and she clambered up the stone. A home filled with memories she could not longer recall. Parchments of details she could no longer read, paintings of sisters she did not recognise. She walked past it all, curling underneath the crumbled rooftop of a small room where a bed once rested. She yawned.

And so slept Soror Senua.