Shadows dancing on the walls; blown through the windows, lightly, lightly. Touching down and leaping high, hunting living flesh and bone.
Zoroastrian Father, Zoroastrian Mother, monstrously born and bred, the Daevae are empty flasks for evil, waiting to be filled; thirsty , wild and deviant.
Hunting for life with claw and fang, who dared call them from their dreamless sleep? Long ago they had been defeated, chained with light and powerless. Now some reckless fool calls them up from the depths, breaking the chains and setting them free.
Lightly, lightly, Daevae dancing. The fool shall bleed and they shall feed.
