It was a rare sunny day in England when a stout young man wandered through a dense boreal forest. He had long abandoned the safety of a beaten path. Despite being in the wild, he remained calm, with measured breaths escaping his lips. In the distance, he believed he had spotted some ruins. The thought of exploring them excited him, as he had never heard of any ruins in this area.
After ten minutes had passed, he still hadn't reached the ruins. Another thirty minutes went by before he finally arrived at the outskirts. "Magnificent" was the only word that came to mind. Moss climbed the grand structure, adding to its mystique. The western side seemed mostly intact, while the eastern side appeared to have been crushed by something massive. Whatever had caused the damage had long since vanished. He suspected the ruins might have once been some form of castle or cathedral. As the man explored, he realized that the ruins were almost entirely untouched.
He moved deeper into the ruins and discovered a grand set of stairs. However, they had fallen apart, and he wouldn't dare attempt to climb them. The young man decided to look for another way up. Eventually, he found a set of stone stairs heading down. Curiosity filled him, and he decided to venture downward. The stairs spiralled down, going far deeper than he had anticipated for just a cellar. After about ten minutes, he finally reached the bottom and entered a large, almost empty hall.
Artisan pillars lined a purple carpet with gold trim, and at the end of the carpet sat a lone throne. Enraptured by the impressive and enormous throne, he marched down the carpet. Upon reaching the end of the carpet, the man realized the room opened up to be circular. The throne was large enough to comfortably seat three people. He scanned the circular room, noticing five black marble pillars arranged in a pentagon. Deep purple ivy climbed the pillars, reaching toward each other to create a pentagram. Rows of benches lined the area outside of the pentagram, and in the centre lay a tall skeleton.
"What the heck, was this place home to some cult?" the man chuckled to himself. Runes were etched into the floor on each side of the ivy, and more lay at the skeleton's feet. Bewildered, the man inspected the runes and felt as if he could understand them.
"ᛁ ᛋᚢᛗᛗᚢᚾ ᛁᚩᚢ, ᛏᚻᛖ ᛞᚱᛠᛞᚠᚢᛚ ᛒᛠᚢᛏᛁ," he spoke the strange runes. They began to glow and rise from the ground. He gasped and fell onto his back. The ivy seemed to come alive, moving almost with a will of its own. Both the runes and ivy converged on the skeleton, wrapping around it and lifting it into the centre of the room. An intoxicating purple mist began to swirl around the skeleton, and the man felt euphoric as he breathed it in, leaving him paralyzed. Soon the mist dispersed, revealing a tall, beautiful woman with ametysht hair floating before him. She stared at the paralyzed man.
"Hello, child, I am..."