It was her first time entering Death's throne room.
Though she was important to It, only emergencies warranted soldiers to enter the sacred room. And for It to call in the middle of the Festival of the Dead, she knew the matter was of dire importance. It sat on the throne, with Its godly face twisted in deep concern. She could feel the overwhelming aura of Death reverberate deep with her soul, heart and bones. A sudden, unwelcome thought bloomed in her heart. She would one day visit It herself, and she'd stand before Its Judgement.
It appeared different to each individual since It did not have a gender. It was everything and nothing at the same time. Deeply perturbed, It didn't speak for a while and she knew at once that this was no small matter if Death Itself was grappling at words.
"A fragment of my power was stolen by a mortal."
She didn't speak for a while but when Its words sunk in, she whipped her head to face It. Its face was etched in fury and regret, wondering how it could have happened. She was speechless and she would have laughed if it was anyone else. A mortal stealing Death's power? She would have dismissed it as a rumour if she heard it outside these walls.
"That mortal's causing chaos and interrupting the sacred balance of Life and Death. I implore you to go to Arkadia and immediately stop this mess and gain my power back," It spoke, Its voice striking right into the heart of her body. This spurred her into action from her shocked stupor.
She bowed her head in agreement, and spoke.
"I shall get it done. Please entrust this upon me," she intoned, and stood.
As she walked out of the room in hushed steps, she thought that if a mortal was able to steal Death's power, however a small part of it, that this was not an easy mission to accomplish. She had to be quick and silent and get this done without the other Deities getting wind of it.
She wasn't called Death's Wraith in the Realm of Death for nothing.
She would finish this job and restore Its honour.