We've all heard the stories of her, but her name must forever remain unspoken. There she stood, the High Priestess of Hell. They tell that to know her is to suffer the full tortures of Hell for eternity. She spoke to me, whispered, to look into her eyes. And as I did so, I saw the underworld ocean, black, under a sunless sky, with fumes rising from the surface were no water vapour; instead they curled and eddied with a silvery-white luminescence. Whisps danced closer. In her eyes, a fire that didn't consume, it just kept on licking coldly.