Our Merciful Swordmaiden by staylor
Life, despite it's continual worship by people that abhor death, is not necessarily good. Vicious bateria are alive, cancer is alive, murderers and dictators and other such monsters are alive. And it is then that we need death.
She wields a sword forged from the cold iron heart of a dead star, and she wields it well. Abominations fall before her, foul beasts from between the stars have been impaled upon here twisted blade. Hers is a fight that will carry her to the end of the universe, and to the end of time.
I wonder if she ever cried for her slain.
I wonder if she ever loved.
If she does, it is not for long.
She is the merciful destroyer.
She is death.
She is Yilind.
Fun with pen and markers. Also an attempt at making something that could be hung up on a wall (I love my monsters, but they are rather weird).