The Pale Lady, whispered of in the secret churches of a hidden cult. Some know her as Apathy — the first and most loyal follower of the Worm, his self-proclaimed bride.
“Her eyes are black abysses, her skin a delicate pearl, her blood as dark as the deepest ink. She carries the scent of almonds, and her voice is filled with a quiet power. Apathy is alluring, yet those who succumb to her charm inevitably experience a profound emptiness after fleeting bliss, never again finding the strength to leave the Pale Lady.”
Once, she was captivated by the Worm’s power as it began its dreadful march. Tasting potential, Apathy was swept up by her own ambition, determined to raise the Devourer of a Thousand Souls to the highest summit. With his loyal lady by his side
As she travels across the Vast and spreads the influence of her church, Apathy appears to mortals in the guise of Saint Appiya Palefertile.
Saint Appiya is a tall, sorrowful woman, her face shadowed by tears shed for her imprisoned betrothed. Most often, Appiya appears nude, covering herself only with her hair and adorning her head with a wreath of dried branches, pearls, and mother-of-pearl shells. Less commonly, when within the church or addressing her followers, she dons a cloak and a kokoshnik embroidered with images of the Worm.
She seems fragile and vulnerable to the point that men who encounter her feel an unbearable sorrow from their desire to comfort the delicate maiden. One by one, century after century, men would fall into her embrace, kiss her, caress her, and share her bed. Many of them returned, never realizing they had sired a new brood of ink-born creatures.
Twisted by the womb of the Pale Lady, the children of men and elves were born as dangerous, ravenous beasts, loyal only to their mother.
Who is the Worm?
Once, it was a tiny reflection born in the Underside. Insignificant and fragile, it was vulnerable even to the touch of mortals, possessing neither name, nor mind, nor identity. The creature’s sole feature was its ability to tear through boundaries.
Driven by fear of the world, the nameless being gnawed its way into the Vast and became the Worm that Burrows Through Space.
Upon entering the Vast, the Worm consumed its first soul and discovered the link between a name and a soul. Now it could steal, devour, and grow. The Worm began developing the first inklings of consciousness. With the increasing number of devoured souls, it started forming its power and its sense of self. It realized its fear and its purpose — to survive and cease being vulnerable; to gain the ability to explore the world without fear.
Continuing its feast, the Worm became a true calamity, claiming countless lives. People called it the Devourer of a Thousand Souls. It was then that followers began to appear, the first and most loyal among them being Apathy. The rest were known as ink demons or simply the Ink.
The Worm’s rampage claimed so many mortal lives that even the Rué — the four gods — could no longer ignore the threat and descended from the Underside to intervene. However, they were too late and found that the Worm had grown beyond their power to destroy. Once a pitiful creature, it had become an equal to the gods — a mighty false deity.
To reduce the number of victims and weaken the Worm, the Rué and their offspring, the Ruén, gave mortals their names as protection, denying the Devourer and the Ink easy prey. Then, they pooled all their strength to split the Worm and imprison it in the Edge. Thus ended the terrible era of the one known as the King of Ink Demons.
Millennia passed, and the Worm became little more than a legend, a tale to frighten children. Its existence was questioned, yet the scars of its feast remained etched into the world. It was because of the conflict with the Worm and the Ink that the Rué became a constant part of mortal life, actively involved in their history. The widespread tradition of wearing plant-based protective names and concealing true names took root and endured through the centuries. Meanwhile, the Ruén began competing among themselves for spheres of influence over mortals.
The world forgot the calamity, but its source waited patiently, licking its wounds and biding its time.
