How To Create An Ancient Death Cult

Exclusive art and sneak peek from The Last Sibyl.

While recovering from my back injury, I dove into some non-fiction reading about what happens to everything left behind on wartime battlefields. I read four books including Donovan Webster's Aftermath: The Remnants of War. It was dark, shocking, and absolutely gripping.

I was particularly gripped by the section called Ghosts. It revealed what remains on the Russian steppe 82 years after the Battle of Stalingrad. The people who still work to clear what was left behind after World War II—including the remains of soldiers—brought me to tears. For them, removing the dead was a sacred duty.

The Beginnings of An Ancient Death Cult

I stumbled across the book while sorting out characters in my latest novel who are from a culture of battlefield scavengers. I wanted these ancient arms dealers to be something more than they appeared. To have a reason beyond living out in the middle of nowhere to be ignored (willfully) by the rest of ancient society. This aspect of removing the dead as a sacred duty really solidified these characters for me. Scavengers with a mysterious death cult aspect. A myth, a legend of the women who converged upon the battle grounds of old and wiped them clean.

(P.S. I love that these women are the heroines of the story.)

I had some cool AI images (made long ago) of women who I had thought originally I would use in another aspect, but the notion of this mysterious people who care for the dead of war transformed them.

Their face coverings quickly made sense as a sort of plague mask with interesting textures. I thought about how they could weave their own masks as a part of their secret practices. Each one could have its own distinct pattern. This got really juicy really fast.

Because of a pinched sciatic nerve, I also couldn't really get out of bed. So, I spent my downtime recreating those patterns.

Making Art To Reveal Character

The initial drawing process of little macros for each mask proved incredibly meditative and story generating for me. In that first round, I penciled the patterns. Lots of erasing and wishing I had better art skills. Then, I inked them. It was sloppy and I ended up going over them a few times.

I LOVED them and wanted to stop there. The starkness of the patterns in black and white really resonated with me. However, these were death masks, intended to be black on black made of leather and other textiles. Black and white would not do. So, I started painting.

Watercolor seemed my best medium. I could layer the darkness, play a bit with textures and values, cover over the mistakes in line work. The first pass was light and needed more depth.

As I layered, I felt the masks, which I call takfahar, start to emerge. The identities of the women through their weavings and patterns took shape.

The push and pull of lines brought up images of how each woman moved when they wore their takfahar. How their lives outside of that service were so very different.

By the end of the process, the Ghül had emerged and an ancient death cult had come alive.

I finally finished them today and pulled together a collage.

This is, to me, the thrill of being an indie author. For the most part, my creative process is not bound by any constraints other than the ones I place on them. If I want to create an ancient death cult and make some mask art to go with it, it’s mine to explore.

I can’t wait to share more of this type of art/writing as The Last Sibyl develops and gets closer to publication.

Thanks for exploring with me.