1.1 Chapter Three
The temple, dark as hell itself, was lighted by the ruby red torches that glinted off the walls. Its glow shadowed the faces of thousands of worshipers praying on their knees. It was the Temple of Hadean, its whereabouts and existence known only to the worshipers who lay in prayers. Their bodies were covered in dark clothing that draped over their entire figure and splayed over the floor. They all murmured guttural chants that echoed off the walls and resonated through the temple in low vibrations.
Their deity was a winged angel statuette of stone carved on the wall opposite of the great doors at the end of the darkness. The statue's figure was of a life-size man, but was carved so high above the room that they could only interpret his form by the flickering flame of the torch kept below his feet.
Although the angel's body was kept high from the ground, not a decent area of the wall was empty. His wings rose to great heights above his head and half enveloped his figure. The peak of his wings touched the ceiling and curved inward against the sides and floor of the entire wall. Glow of the torch beneath him, the exquisite relief of the wings articulated in a blood red wash of light.
A heavily cloaked figure wearing gloves and boots, stood before two towering doors of black obsidian at the opposite wall of the statue. At the peak of the ornately designed gates was a steel statue of a twisted demon, its mouth splitting to a eerie grin as cobalt eyes flickered to those stood before it. Sensing the presence of the one standing beneath it, its eyes shone in a grotesque flare. The doors parted, allowing him to enter, and then closed shut.
The room bathed in a calm blue of a clear summer's night, its walls resounded in a blue magic that swam in steady currents. A fairly long walkway draped in red carpet led down to the end of the room, where located a throne reaching heights greater than the door. The carpet was the only solid ground between the door and the throne. It floated in midair above a dark pit of eternal oblivion and served as the room's only walkway.
Trying carefully not to place a false step that would lead to the abyss of eternal descent, he walked down the carpet in uneasiness. He could feel eyes glaring down at him, and traced them to the many little twisted demons like the one above the door. They sat in posts that jutted from the side- walls, their forms neither human or beast but of creatures mankind have shunned away from in fear and disgust. Their eyes flickered in orange, yellow, and nightfall blue; and seemed to dare him to fall as they watched him walk to the two people staring down from the throne at the end of the room.
When he finally reached the respected distance from the throne he performed the ritual of the highest degree of respect. His greeting concerned him to touched his forehead with two fingers from each hand and run them down the side of his head to his cheekbones. Then with his right two fingers he traced over the area of his heart under the layers of cloak and lowered himself to the floor.
Mist seemed to pour out of him when he bowed, and a strange wind swirled around him tumbled his hood off his head. The man was no man at all, but a condensed form of air and vapor. Quickly the gloves of the being pulled the hood over its unseen head and covered even the nonexistent face.
"Stand," a voice commanded. The sound seemed to echo from the walls themselves. A silvery sage looked down from his throne near the ceiling and motioned for it to stand. Obediently, the being raised itself and stood with its head held low. "Of what interest brings ye here?" the same voice asked.
The being looked at the seat of the throne, where the large figure with cooled silver eyes was clearly sitting. The light from the walls allowed him to see another man standing to the seated person's left-hand side. This tall man faced the seated sage with his arms crossed in a defiant posture. The man was concealed even further by darkness, and his face turned to it while it had been staring.
It looked away quickly. The man's eyes were bright red and tinted to orange, contrasting greatly with his partner's serene shade of silver. Very little was known about the silvery lord seated in the throne, but even less was known about his companion. Their relationship was also an obscure mystery, and the only souls who know about its source were the ones who stared down at him at this very moment.
"O Insightful One," the being began, "I have come to deliver a message." At this, the man standing scoffed and turned his head away in boredom. Unease and a bit offended at the reaction, the messenger paused before continuing.
"I was told by my people, the Sirccos – beings of the wind, that the survivor of Puer's blood has finally come." The man standing jerked his head in rapt attention to the Sircco, his eyes flared for a moment to a shade of blinding red. Seeing his partner's alertness the Insightful One nodded in understanding.
"I see," he answered to the Sircco, his silver eyes gleamed. "Tell your people that they shall be immensely rewarded." Nodding eagerly and replying in grateful thanks, the messenger turned and soon exited. The great doors closed, and the restless demons seated on the pillars of the sides began to calm.
His red eyes became narrow slits as he acknowledged his seated companion without looking at him. "He's here." The other lowered his head in a slight nod and turned to him. "I know that you have been waiting for this for a long time," he said.
A smile formed on the man's lips. His throat let out a mirthless chuckle. 'Finally,' he thought. The low chuckle erupted into a tremendous bellows, and the demons responded in crazed frenzy. They darted into the air, wings beating furiously against each other to escape the laughter. The man only continued, and the Sircco who had just left the doors placed its gloves against the sides of its hood as it ran out of the Temple of Hadean.
*This chapter was dedicated to the sole darkness and plot of the story. It gives a little foreshadowing of what's to come up. Who's Puer's blood and exactly what were they ranting about? Well, I placed all the events in the order to throw you all off. Saying no more. (
The temple, dark as hell itself, was lighted by the ruby red torches that glinted off the walls. Its glow shadowed the faces of thousands of worshipers praying on their knees. It was the Temple of Hadean, its whereabouts and existence known only to the worshipers who lay in prayers. Their bodies were covered in dark clothing that draped over their entire figure and splayed over the floor. They all murmured guttural chants that echoed off the walls and resonated through the temple in low vibrations.
Their deity was a winged angel statuette of stone carved on the wall opposite of the great doors at the end of the darkness. The statue's figure was of a life-size man, but was carved so high above the room that they could only interpret his form by the flickering flame of the torch kept below his feet.
Although the angel's body was kept high from the ground, not a decent area of the wall was empty. His wings rose to great heights above his head and half enveloped his figure. The peak of his wings touched the ceiling and curved inward against the sides and floor of the entire wall. Glow of the torch beneath him, the exquisite relief of the wings articulated in a blood red wash of light.
A heavily cloaked figure wearing gloves and boots, stood before two towering doors of black obsidian at the opposite wall of the statue. At the peak of the ornately designed gates was a steel statue of a twisted demon, its mouth splitting to a eerie grin as cobalt eyes flickered to those stood before it. Sensing the presence of the one standing beneath it, its eyes shone in a grotesque flare. The doors parted, allowing him to enter, and then closed shut.
The room bathed in a calm blue of a clear summer's night, its walls resounded in a blue magic that swam in steady currents. A fairly long walkway draped in red carpet led down to the end of the room, where located a throne reaching heights greater than the door. The carpet was the only solid ground between the door and the throne. It floated in midair above a dark pit of eternal oblivion and served as the room's only walkway.
Trying carefully not to place a false step that would lead to the abyss of eternal descent, he walked down the carpet in uneasiness. He could feel eyes glaring down at him, and traced them to the many little twisted demons like the one above the door. They sat in posts that jutted from the side- walls, their forms neither human or beast but of creatures mankind have shunned away from in fear and disgust. Their eyes flickered in orange, yellow, and nightfall blue; and seemed to dare him to fall as they watched him walk to the two people staring down from the throne at the end of the room.
When he finally reached the respected distance from the throne he performed the ritual of the highest degree of respect. His greeting concerned him to touched his forehead with two fingers from each hand and run them down the side of his head to his cheekbones. Then with his right two fingers he traced over the area of his heart under the layers of cloak and lowered himself to the floor.
Mist seemed to pour out of him when he bowed, and a strange wind swirled around him tumbled his hood off his head. The man was no man at all, but a condensed form of air and vapor. Quickly the gloves of the being pulled the hood over its unseen head and covered even the nonexistent face.
"Stand," a voice commanded. The sound seemed to echo from the walls themselves. A silvery sage looked down from his throne near the ceiling and motioned for it to stand. Obediently, the being raised itself and stood with its head held low. "Of what interest brings ye here?" the same voice asked.
The being looked at the seat of the throne, where the large figure with cooled silver eyes was clearly sitting. The light from the walls allowed him to see another man standing to the seated person's left-hand side. This tall man faced the seated sage with his arms crossed in a defiant posture. The man was concealed even further by darkness, and his face turned to it while it had been staring.
It looked away quickly. The man's eyes were bright red and tinted to orange, contrasting greatly with his partner's serene shade of silver. Very little was known about the silvery lord seated in the throne, but even less was known about his companion. Their relationship was also an obscure mystery, and the only souls who know about its source were the ones who stared down at him at this very moment.
"O Insightful One," the being began, "I have come to deliver a message." At this, the man standing scoffed and turned his head away in boredom. Unease and a bit offended at the reaction, the messenger paused before continuing.
"I was told by my people, the Sirccos – beings of the wind, that the survivor of Puer's blood has finally come." The man standing jerked his head in rapt attention to the Sircco, his eyes flared for a moment to a shade of blinding red. Seeing his partner's alertness the Insightful One nodded in understanding.
"I see," he answered to the Sircco, his silver eyes gleamed. "Tell your people that they shall be immensely rewarded." Nodding eagerly and replying in grateful thanks, the messenger turned and soon exited. The great doors closed, and the restless demons seated on the pillars of the sides began to calm.
His red eyes became narrow slits as he acknowledged his seated companion without looking at him. "He's here." The other lowered his head in a slight nod and turned to him. "I know that you have been waiting for this for a long time," he said.
A smile formed on the man's lips. His throat let out a mirthless chuckle. 'Finally,' he thought. The low chuckle erupted into a tremendous bellows, and the demons responded in crazed frenzy. They darted into the air, wings beating furiously against each other to escape the laughter. The man only continued, and the Sircco who had just left the doors placed its gloves against the sides of its hood as it ran out of the Temple of Hadean.
*This chapter was dedicated to the sole darkness and plot of the story. It gives a little foreshadowing of what's to come up. Who's Puer's blood and exactly what were they ranting about? Well, I placed all the events in the order to throw you all off. Saying no more. (