Wrapped in twilight and violet silk, Sister Mercy stands between the sacred and the profane, a woman bound by faith, haunted by memory, and drawn to the beauty that blooms in ruin.
 
She is the quiet heart of The Krewe of the Morningstar: the one who prays for the lost, even when she suspects she might be one of them.
 
This piece captures her in the French Quarter at dusk, where the air hums with ghosts and orchids bloom like whispered confessions.
 
🕯️ From the world of Tongue of the Serpent, where devotion and darkness share the same breath.