As written on my profile, this is an incomplete work I'm posting. You can go there to see the entire explanation.

~1~

The first time he sees a goddess, he's unimpressed.

It's in a large painting his Father has done for the Great Hall of the castle. The Demon King towers over her, monstrous and impressive as ever. His massive sword hooked at the tip, is bloodied and smeared with the rain and dirt that crashes down in the picture. The goddess is on the ground at his Father's feet, just as massive and powerful appearing, though she's clearly defeated by the red pooling around her.

Meliodas notices only three things about her he cares to recall. Her eyes, even in the bleak picture, are a startling ice blue hollowed in her death. Her ten wings must've been hell to manage—he has a hard time grappling with two when he can conjure them, let alone ten. And her hair is the deepest red he's ever seen, though he's not sure if it's from the blood or a natural shade.

After seeing for the first time what demons always hiss at, Meliodas takes it upon himself to ask around about them—not to his Father, of course. Meliodas knows himself to be the King's pride and joy. He knows he's going to one day become just like the monstrous demon and should learn all he can from him. But Meliodas also knows that he hardly comes up to his Father's ankle let alone one day coming to his knee. Going down to the caves that give the feeling of swallowing up everything inside you also keeps the young demon from venturing towards the guidance of his Father.

Instead he prods his tutor about the winged beings of light, eager to know why they're worthy of a demon's wrath.

They're in a vast room of tables and demons of all shapes and sizes, colors too. A few windows off to one side give a view of the rocky lands, spouting lava, and swirling clouds above. It's always so dark. But the flames mounted on the walls shed just enough light in his opinion. His tutor, graying and suffering a twitch in his left eye most believe to be a frequent wink, stands in front of them all intent on teaching them how to pour more power into the flames they can create.

Meliodas watches with his hand on his fist, eyes lidded in boredom as flames melt from the man's hands singing the stone floors. He can sense the wall of heat coming from them and groans as he remembers their lesson for the next week—whetting their senses.

The tutor's eyes, a sharp kind of black, land on him before multiple twitches overtake his left eye. "What is it, Meliodas? You usually excel at these exercises." His voice has an ancient chime to it similar to the flipping of old dusty pages in a book.

Meliodas glares around at the other demons playing with fire, burning holes in their desks and grimaces. "I want to learn about goddesses." He was always one to get straight to the point. His eyes hook onto his tutor standing before his desk now, cold as onyx stone. "Toying with flames is child's play. Something I did when I was a toddler. I want to put my fighting skills to use." The desire to advance on the more dangerous and gory act must burn across his face in a vicious smile because the man glowers down at him looking for all the world as if he's twitching like mad.

"You may know the basics, little Prince, but there is power in mastery and control. You are not ready to face a goddess nor would you survive an encounter with someone above your smarts." The man leans down and presses severely, "When you are ready, I will more than happily send you on your way. I deem you are not; therefore, do not bring it up again."

This graying demon is not the first tutor Meliodas has been taught under. Many before him have buckled beneath the Prince's status, others his natural dominance and downright cruel intent. It's lead him to very perilous situations in the past which he'd thrilled upon, but his Father completely despised. Those tutors were never heard from again, only rumored to have met a very agonized fate. That's when this man filled the role and he hasn't left since. That was years ago. That doesn't mean Meliodas hasn't tried.

Meliodas' young hands press against the aged wood of his desk as he slowly rises to stand at his admittedly unimpressive height. The piercing glint to his thin glare more than makes up for it. "I want to meet one and destroy them just as my Father did." His chest rumbles with the intimidation of a pup's growl, but the flames sparking at his fingers strikes just as hotly as a roaring storm.

The man bears his teeth before barking a forceful, "Enough!" The room of excited chatter behind him falls silent instantly. Meliodas fails to relinquish his glare though his flames do go out much to his inner chagrin— Perhaps I doesn't have all the control I hope for , the foreign thought comes before it's squashed down.

"All of you are dismissed. You did well for today." The demons preen with the praise behind him, he can feel it, and it disgusts him. "Except you," The tutor continues to him as the room thins out. A few twitches erupt just as the man gains a devious smile—a smile that only means one thing. "I have a punishment for you."

Meliodas grumbles loudly and falls back into his chair as his arms cross over his chest. Bits of wood crumple to the ground at his rough movement, not that he cares. What will it be this time? He's been put through lots of tedious mind numbing acts over the years from being forced to aid the cooks to knitting with seamstresses. All of which he had to do or face his Father's disappointment in his less than impressive acts in his lessons.

He blinks and parchment, glass bottles of colors, and oddly shaped brushes are sat in front of him. The smug look on the man's face as Meliodas gapes upwards at him makes the blond chafe with bitterness. "Paint something. And be original!"

With this he is left alone with only the flickering of flames and distant sounds of eruptions to keep him company. His hand encircles a brush as he snarls down at the page. He knows he can't escape this, will have to put something on the man's desk or risk being scolded—literally. But the anger bubbling beneath his skin makes him lash out in a swiping of his wrist. Colors fly through the air before crashing to the ground with a nice glittering ring. They bleed and mix on the ground before his eyes turning into something dark and murky. Familiar.

He tilts his head as wild bangs brush across his nose. The brush still in his left hand feels heavy but useful now as the anger seeps away with a resigned sigh. Maybe he can... His muted orbs roam over his desk finding a few colors still remaining—just the few he needs.

An hour later of mishaps and stray splotches later, Meliodas leaves the room after placing a painting of eyes on the tutor's desk. Eyes a cerulean, not ice, and much warmer and softer than he'd ever really witnessed before.

~.~.~

Meliodas eventually makes his way out of the stout building all children must make their way to in order to gain tutelage. It isn't too far from the ominous castle crafted from harsh stone jutting straight up from the mountains in the distance. That's his home where he's expected to return to. But the sting of indignation from before still resides like an unwanted residue. The words of his tutor refusing to go. He's leagues ahead of his peers in prowess, surely he deserves the right to at least know more about their enemy— Certainly they don't all go around with ten wings sprouting from their backs?

Meliodas clutches his fingers balling them up until they quiver at his sides. His eyes are cold in their stare off with the ground only gaining an inkling of warmth from the glow of lava catching faintly in his glare. "That old bastard will stay tight lipped on this no matter what I say or do." His eyes lift gradually reflecting the growing smirk spreading across his lips. "I guess that means finding answers on my own then."

His sudden focus never leaves the demons flying skyward, the years they have on him clearly enough to grant them leave from the realm without objection—exactly what he needs. Meliodas knows the settlements across the lands well enough even if he hasn't traveled to over half of them. He knows there aren't too many that surround the castle, thus the few demons he watches now. So if he were to simply yield his darkness and fly towards the darkened sky, hardly any would notice. It's a shaky plan, even he has to admit. If his absence is noted, anyone can report seeing a sole demon leaving the realm, but...

The reality of his chance is too close to simply pass up.

The air is humid against his skin so when be does manage to form his wings, after a few moments of twisting his expression in deep concentration that is, the frigidness spreading from inside out is a stark contrast. Getting into the air is easy. Making a graceful ascent is not. He's flown frequently sure, but there's still a certain disconnect—being on the ground and in control, then suddenly not and being sort of weightless—he has to adjust to each time. A kind of thrill begins to throb through his veins as he feels the wisps of ever present clouds draw nearer. His fingers twitch, the tips practically sparking with the magic in the air so keenly he's certain they grow numb. He has no clue of how this works, like every kid before him has never given it much thought. Now that he's seconds from colliding, he wonders if his decision of spontaneity was a smart one.

A swirl of dusky blues, purples, greens, reds, and the perpetual darkness opens up before his eyes.

"No turning back now."

A sharp pull unable to be resisted snaps forward pressing around him more snugly than his own skin drawing in his words, then last entire figure. The sky smoothes over an instant later becoming once more an unmoving pool of ink.

Meliodas on the other hand feels himself spat out unceremoniously from the bowels of some twisted binding of magic. His body lies flat on some ground still charged with the residues of diving between worlds. His eyes remain shut for the time being hoping to keep everything from spinning, his stomach from churning and his senses in check. He never wants to do that again. The thought that he'll have to do so in order to return is swiftly kept out of mind for now.

His chest heaving in gulps of air finally steadies and that's when he realizes something. The air is... different. Usually it's dense, harsh, and slightly scraping down his throat. This though is light, fresh with tons of airy scents mingling through it that he can't quite name yet. Curiosity piqued, Meliodas' eyelids pull apart allowing a sliver of light to burn his gaze. Blinking several times to gain his vision, the young demon is suddenly given a full view of soft blues, whites, and rich greens. For an instant, he simply stares at the new sight until orange flutters gently overhead. 'Isn't that some kind of butterfly?'

Clenching his fingers in the ground underneath him, Meliodas pulls himself into a seated position as his lips press tightly together. His eyes remain the only pane to the wonder glimmering in his soul. "What kind of place is this?" His voice is low maybe even hesitant as he eyes the grass tugged between his fingers. The world above is one he's learned of from the earth, to the rivers, to the ever stretching sky, but he hadn't thought much of it. Hadn't thought it'd be this... bright. But as he gazes around seeing the flowers wafting their unique aromas, the fruits dangling from trees, hears the chitter of creatures he's never seen, feels air milder than he ever thought possible, he can't imagine why he hadn't wanted to explore this place sooner.

The Underworld is his home, but this place can definitely be his playground.

Meliodas rises, then checks himself over to be sure that everything is in place as in his sword is still strapped to his hip. Once done, he eagerly wanders over to the first bush nearest him then squats beside it. A very stern look of consideration adorns his face furrowing his brows and scrunching up his mouth. Bunches of bright red berries dot the whole thing and the sweet fragrance is like nothing he's encountered before.

'Is it really smart to eat the first thing I see in a new world?'

His hand halts mid air between him and the tempting fruit.

'How bad can it be though? I doubt something as measly as an itty bitty berry could poison a demon.'

His hand resumes its intended course.

'Maybe not, but it could still make me sick.'

His hand twitches irritated with logic.

'There's no telling until I try.'

Meliodas turns from his perch a slight smudge of crimson on his lips and a noticeable patch of missing berries from the bush not too long later. A satisfied grin overtakes his features as he thinks of the not too sour yet not too sweet tasting fruit. "The berries are delicious. I wonder what else is interesting here..." He trails off with a devious tendril working into his tone.

Someone must've been listening as a weird sensation begins at his back then works quickly up his neck like the worst of crawling beneath his skin. A voice fills his ears in an excited cry that bounces off the trees. He thinks to turn to try and figure out what it could be. But then a body is colliding with his forcing his face into the crisp blades of grass.

" Oh no! Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to—Are you alright?"

'What... is that?' His mind is filled with cotton temporarily blocking his proper thought process as he takes in the strange voice alien only in the worry that blankets the light tone. When hands fall on his arm his mind swirls with clarity.

"Are you okay?"

This is a girl.

She careful rolls him onto his back.

Cold onyx meets the warmest cerulean.

Meliodas goes completely rigid as they continue to lock gazes. Not just any girl. A goddess.

The first thing that washes across his mind besides the startling quality of her eyes is the four wings stiff behind her in anxiousness. He's almost relieved that they don't all go around with so many. But once the surprise begins to wear down self preservation kicks in with a swiftness he almost can't grasp... Meliodas scrambles back, his left hand drawing towards the hilt of his sword in readiness. This girl with wide eyes and framing silver hair is an enemy. Her air of innocence merely a shroud.

His eyebrows weigh his eyes down into slits. "What the hell is are you trying to do?" He whips out in a hiss.

The girl jumps looking more scolded than a kitten curling in on herself just slightly as her cheeks gain a peculiar flush. "I am sorry. I was looking for my, um, friends. I don't know much about sensing so when I heard something I just, well..." Quieter and softer her voice becomes until it floats away with the wind.

Meliodas grips the hilt of his sword with a bitter frown. Foolish . Irritation pricks at his skin urging him to pull them cut through her. This is his chance after all. To prove that he can stand against a goddess. His eyes trail over her figure for a moment though going over the slump of her shoulders and the dip of her head and he hesitates. "Don't you realize what I am?"

Her head jerks up and he's subjected fully to the vibrancy if her gaze. "Y-yes! You're... well, a demon, right?"

A demon, right? What kind of recognition is that ? She should be shaking in her place before him yet instead she's strangely shy as if meeting someone new not someone who could lob her head clean of her shoulders. "What the hell kind of game are you playing?" He demands tightly growing irksome of her mind games. This must be what they do to get one to lower their guard.

She blinks then hesitantly curves her lips up oddly. "Well, we were playing a game of hide—"

Meliodas eliminates the space between them in a breath his hand encircling her upper arm as he crowds over her, his nose practically against hers as he glares into her eyes. "Are you trying to get killed? Is that it? Because I can gladly answer your call."

Her breathing becomes shaky. A sign of distress, surely. "You wouldn't do that, would you?" She looks genuinely saddened by this revelation and he outright laughs in her face.

"You're certainly pushing me, little goddess." Her blue eyes he'd had no option but to study, to notice and discover the strange entrancing illumination around her pupils turn down and away from his.

"I'm sorry." The two words sound so heavy as they crash between them, shattering; weak .

Meliodas lets her go and moves away with a scoff. "Pathetic." He spits out as he climbs to his feet, turning his back to her. Is this really what they feud against? They seem like nothing more than worthless nuisances to him. Meliodas looks around intended on leaving her behind wanting to find something actually worth his time in this new world. He makes it a mere three steps when she calls out.

"Wait!"

His eyebrow twitches. The demon turns halfway to see her standing as well. Seeing her now, clearly the shorter of the two, so small, so fragile in comparison, he's truly stunned that she's from such a powerful race. "What?" He raises an eye ridge.

Now she seems to fumble with her words as she wrings her hands together. Even still she refuses to look away from his eyes. "I... Well, y-you don't have to leave..."

"And why is that?"

A few moments go by in silence, the strange sounds of insects around having become white nose long ago. She seems uncomfortable with answering and it's in a way fascinating. 'Maybe I can use this. I want to know what I can about them and this girl is practically handing me the opportunity .' A smirk slips into his face as he eyes her. 'Why not?'

"Fine. I'll stay. But I don't play games." He tells her evenly.

She lights up in a way he can only really compare to the power and flares that happens when magic collides in challenge. "Really!? You mean it?"

He coils his arms over his chest choosing not to answer.

She receives the message and hurries to fill in the blanks. "Okay! We don't have to play… um, what's your name?" Curiosity warms her face as she steps closer to him.

Should he even give her such a thing? He considers this and the long term. If he does plan on gaining information through her he might have an easier time if they're more familiar. At least through names. So he turns fully towards her. "Meliodas."

Her lips mouth it silently for a bit and then they curve once more, gently, the shape softened with content. "Well, Meliodas, my name is Elizabeth. It's very nice to meet you!" His gaze is so loaded with the oddity in her features he doesn't even notice when she stands before him hand stretched out to try and shake his hand. It's only when a tinkling sound of nervous laughter reaches his ears does he see her hand falling back to her side and a flash of something rush across her eyes. "We don't have to play like I was saying before… Actually there's something I do need to do." Her voice from what he's heard deviates from its seemingly usual bubbliness and gains a casing of seriousness to it. He watches how her hand goes up to something dangling from her neck, a necklace of silver twisted and twined with an intricacy crafted by the hands of a true artisan no doubt. The rune of the goddesses is impossible to miss in the center. "I must discover my purpose."

Her purpose? That resonates with the demon prince pretty deeply. One's purpose is the very meaning of their magic, what they're meant to do with it and themselves essentially. Meliodas has known that he is meant to become the greatest demon that ever was and surpass his father one day since the moment he felt the cool tendrils of darkness arise beneath his skin growing stronger each day. It's a thrilling sensation knowing that he'll do great devastating things and all the power is at his very fingertips. He simply has to work at it, something he has no issues doing.

His expression becomes thoughtful as he looks her over. She hasn't yet to figure it out for herself yet? He doubts it could be anything remarkable, but surely she at least has an idea? He speaks up just as another deep orange butterfly flutters near the goddess whom excitedly extends a finger where it lands gently. "Don't you at least have some clue? Your power should give you an idea." he attempts to be informative.

But she simply looks up sheepish as she allows the butterfly to flit from her finger. "All I can do is this." her fingers on each hand curl towards each other at her words and ever so slowly he feels a pinch at the back of his mind in tandem with the golden glow he sees forming in between her palms. The pinch becomes an itch until it morphs into a dull sense of warmth, the light glow now appearing to be a twisting ball of harmless light.

His eyes go from it to her face then back again repeatedly. "That's it?" He questions in disbelief.

"Yep!"

He'd fall over in exasperation if he weren't soldered to the ground in anger. "So you're saying, you've have no clue, no hints, no where to even begin with this?"

"Nope!" She confirms with an all to cheery grin, the useless ball still swirling between her hands.

'What have I just gotten myself into?'