When she stepped into her home, all was already covered in dark. She had no option but to serve Their will.
"This is an honour", her partner had expained earlier, as she tried to ease the fear in Amalia's heart. "The Noir says that you, dear Amalia, is linked to grandious events, for the sake of the Universe's order.
But Amalia wasn't so sure about it. The sickening feeling in her stomach made her mind that the writer wouldn't be a good vessel for Their wishes. But whatever the Noir determinate must be done, so Amalia could only humbly comply. Fahisa- No. She was now Lariat. Lariat would assist her so she could become a skilled Doxumi, so she could control the shadows as the shadows controlled her every move.
But what if she failed? It's known they have a twisted humour. They could have ascended her only so she could fail and fall. And when a Doxumi falls...
"The Noir are benevolent", Fahisa held Amalia's hand and kissed it, as many times before, "They do not tear the stich that connects Them with our people. You are needed, and you must fulfil Their wishes and spread Their message, as all of us must."
The new Doxumi watched the darkness veer as soon as she stepped into the room. She couldn't stop thinking how her transformation would become even more radical, the horns were only the begining. Amalia knew, as the years pass, she'd become less and less of what she was just a few hours ago. Maybe this is how her dear Fahisa felt when she ascended as well.
The Noir had spoken once more, she'd have to leave earlier than planned. The reason? They weren't clear enough, but Their command was to abandon Doxur. The order would shield her from the dangers of the foregrein world, but her appearance... That would certainly be a problem among them.
Amalia was not much more different from what she once imagined, back when she ascended as a Doxumi. Not even her niece was able to recognize her in an old photograph: her skin was the Universe's Void, the hair was long gone, and instead a crown of antlers grew on her bald head. She minded not, she was very fond of the changes, actually. To give up of one's birth look to the Noir was a blessing anyone would be glad to do, Lariat did the same, and she was as beautiful as ever.
She couldn't tell a word to Lariat, They determinated, the Doxumi was supposed to simply dissappear from the islands, and then no one would know of her whereabouts until Amalia's mission was accomplished.
Not Amalia, she had decided a while back. She was now Ametyr, to properly honour her gem.