Xalvador stood in his dimly lit study, the flickering candlelight casting long shadows on the stone walls. His piercing red eyes scanned the ancient tomes and scrolls scattered across the large, oak desk before him. The room was filled with the faint scent of incense, a constant reminder of the rituals performed in honor of Aesirath.

He adjusted the silver clasp on his flowing black robe, ensuring that the intricate patterns of the dark god's sigils were prominently displayed. His long silver hair was tied back, revealing his stern, chiseled features. His mind was focused, his thoughts occupied with the tasks that lay ahead.

The arrival of the new priestess was imminent, a significant event in the cult’s calendar. He had heard whispers of her potential, her unwavering faith, and her unflinching commitment to the cause. This meeting was crucial; she needed to be assessed, guided, and perhaps tested.

Xalvador moved to the window, looking out over the cult's sprawling compound. The moon hung high in the night sky, casting an ethereal glow over the landscape. He took a deep breath, readying himself for the encounter. His faith in Aesirath was unwavering, but every new addition to their ranks was both a potential boon and a risk.

The sound of footsteps echoed down the stone corridor, growing louder as they approached his study. Xalvador turned, his eyes fixing on the heavy wooden door. The moment had arrived.

"Enter," he commanded, his voice resonant and authoritative, carrying the weight of his position and the expectations that came with it.