"Well… what do you think of this brother and sister?" asked the almighty Goddess Nytherra, tilting her head slightly. She sat at the very head of the massive stone table, on a throne made of the bones of hundreds of fallen mortals, glowing faintly in the dim light. Her power was obvious, almost tangible; in her presence, every lesser god felt both fear and awe at once.
Beside her sat five more figures—lesser gods, each wielding extraordinary power in their own domain, yet still far beneath Nytherra.
They were seated as follows:
At the head of the table, Nytherra. She was the embodiment of power: Goddess of Death and Night.
Her long purple gown, almost reaching her ankles, hugged every curve, with daring cutouts at the stomach and a slit between the chest. Black heels elongated her long, elegant legs, each movement radiating confidence.
Her long purple hair fell down her back, shimmering in the faint light, while her lavender eyes glowed coldly.
