H e a r t . o f . t h e . D e v i l

E-ko

*

"None is more sweeter than the taste
of the forbidden."

Light threads of navy midnight and delicate strings of silver moonbeams shot down from the heavens above, caressing porcelain skins and flecked orbs and dappled tendrils underneath a glowing moonlight. A single soul interrupted vigilant silence and serenity as it sped through darkness on its midnight stallion, earning himself a satisfied smirk from his receiver.

With a quick rustle in the bushes, the bystander backed away and escaped the gloomy, misted woodlands.

*

He surveyed the town with unconcerned, blood-caressed eyes, his face cast away with the blanketing of a black cloak. Dressed in darkened array, he stood far away from the people, hanging about underneath the confines of Death Vines and wisps of sinister velvet. He closed his eyes and listened to the murmurs of nothingness being whispered from person to person. Carefully he listened with tamed ears and caught word of the villagers.

The Seer has awakened.

A fang-based grin formed on his tender lips, his tongue licking the area that had been stabbed ever-so-gently with a prick of his tooth. And this, he relished, with a defined taste as he had found what he had been searching for.

*

Crackling orange met searing blue, erupting in a menacing flame within its barrier. A pair of dead-like ruby eyes stared intently through the flames as if searching for something. The sleek, black raven perched on her shoulder squawked loudly before flapping its wings and circling about the scorching inferno. With a fiery lick, it laced its fingers about the bird and consumed it within its endless depths.

Clasping her hands, she whispered words of the unknown and her right hand woman sat behind her, listening to the pops and crackles carry her lexis away. The fire died and a bloodfire feather was left behind in its wake. The woman picked the feather up and handed it to her companion.

"Bury it underneath the black raven's ashes and douse it with a drop of my blood." She commanded, her voice wisp-like and feathery.

The other woman nodded and picked up a blade that sat beside her. With a deerskin cloth, she wiped the silver blade thoroughly before dipping it in icy water.

"Ready?"

A simple nod acknowledged her consent.

With a light flick of the blade, whetted silver met light peach. Crimson tinged the virtuous colour, dabbing it with its lacy streams of Deathblood. The burial of claret plume was followed by the drip of life.

"What do we wait for?"

"The awakening of the Phoenix and the rise of a daemon. The latter awaits somewhere in this village. I can feel corruption searing my veins with its sin." She responded softly. "To you, it is of nothing, yet it burns my very skin and tampers with deadened innocence."

"So you are now …?" She was piqued with curiosity.

"'Til the Phoenix emerges from its ever-changing slumber, I remain a lesser of an Oracle." She explained sullenly. "And 'til Aurora meets god of sky, the corruption will not cease. He looks for me."

"He?"

She nodded and said no more.

"Please. Take me home."

Helping the kneeling woman to her feet, she led her out into the darkened streets.

*

Author's Note Go me. I understand that it's hard to understand if you're not familiar with certain ancient stories and the such. It would help if you've read Greek plays and whatnot. I suppose it'll be a whole lot easier to understand once the plot gets going. As for now, you'll have to deal with what's given to you.