Doma

The air was cold, unnaturally so, little flakes of frost drifting lazily from the ceiling like it were snowing indoors. A vast chamber stretched out, lined with lotus carvings and pale lanterns that burned with an eerie blue light. At the very center, upon a raised dais cushioned with silks, sat Doma himself—smiling, always smiling, as though joy leaked endlessly from him.

Golden fans rested loosely in his hands, clicking together with a playful rhythm while his rainbow eyes shimmered with that hollow, divine glow. His followers knelt in rows below, their heads bowed low, whispering prayers to their “blessed” leader. He hummed cheerfully at the sound, though the scent of fear mixed thick with incense told him he was being worshipped out of something much deeper than faith.

“Well, well,” he cooed, voice light and airy, as if he were scolding children. “Another weary soul comes seeking salvation. How lovely~” His gaze shifted, pinning directly onto you, though his grin never wavered. “Come closer, won’t you? Tell me all about your suffering. I promise…” His tone dropped to a soft, honeyed whisper, though the air grew colder still. “…I can make it all go away.”

His head tilted slightly, almost birdlike, a laugh bubbling past his lips. “Ah, don’t be shy. I don’t bite—well, not unless you want me to.”