Note:
I am going to start treading with religions here, so please don't
kill me!
The Chronicle of Abaddon
--- First
Blood ---
The First Seal: Patriarchs
the
Earliest Fathers
[Identification of the Mark]
:::: Mark of Destruction ::::
Cold mist enveloped the poorly lit streets as the travelers headed towards the comfort of their own homes, seeking the warmth it would give them. Sightless eyes, all focused on their own goals swept by the milling crowd unseeing, as their feet seemed to hurry along a number of predetermined paths and determinedly wove a path for their owners.Soon, the cold would be unbearable, and the faster they moved away from its icy tendrils, the better. None found the need to concern themselves about matters that did not directly involve them at this point of the hour. Their safety was their priority and only that.
In the almost panicked rush of the multitude, no one noticed the shivering form carefully wedged between an alley, as activity bustled alongside the little one's whimpers of need.
"Amon."
The soft whisper awoke a little figure with startlingly silver hair, glinting as pale as the moonlight that shone despite the thick fog that now blanketed the cobbled streets. It was deep in the night now, and the streets that had been previously full of life were deserted, giving the town an air of one that is abandoned, dead. Most were already safely inside their houses, sheltered from the cold only winter could bring. Only the insane would still be wandering around at this time, or the homeless, as the case was.
In response, a man in his late thirties hobbled down to where his wife was curiously peering, only to find nothing but darkness and a heavy dankness about the place. A chill ran down his spine. There definitely was something in the air that night.
Choosing to ignore his body's protests, he took a step closer and tried to see better. Having no such luck, Amon gave up and turned back to ask just what was so important about a pile of junk.
"What is it, dear?"
"Down there, look. To the right," came the hushed reply, as bony fingers trembling in fatigue and excitement both at once struggled to pinpoint her object of interest.
Squinting his clear gray eyes towards the direction pointed out, the man was finally rewarded when he saw a bundle of what he originally thought as trash move. "Yes dear, I see it."
Looking hopefully at each other for a brief moment, the older man shrugged to himself, and without saying a word, began to wade towards what they both prayed to be the answer to all their heartfelt desires. Winning against his brief struggle with various wastes that most had just left behind to rot and be swept away by the wind sometime in the future, he was finally able to scoop up the baby in his proud but weary arms. Giving a little smile of reassurance to his watching wife, he began to retract his original path until he cleared the darkness of the alley and was once more reunited with her hovering form.
"Oh, Amon. It's. He's.. my God.", she whispered brokenly, overwhelmed by their sudden turnabout in luck.
"Yes, Sarai. A child. He has finally answered our prayers.", her husband answered with an almost reverent awe in his voice.
"Do you think we could."
"His parents had left him alone to die, Sarai. We have every right to protect him and care for him as our own."
"Oh, yes. How I wanted......... how much we wanted......... Can I......... hold him for a while? He's shivering, Amon."
He readily handed her the infant, watching as she immediately bundled him up in her shabby cloak, sharing her body heat with him. Within moments, her weak but oddly comforting embrace to the child immediately ceased the severe wracking within the tiny frame.
Humming a quiet lullaby she had once heard as a little girl, she rocked him slowly to sleep within her most treasured fold, completely mindless of everything but the precious infant she now held in her breast.
"What do you think we should name him?"
"Omri." [1] Came the abrupt reply. After a moment's thought, the newfound father thoughtfully added, "For he is the beginning of our happiness and the end of our longing."
Sarai nodded in recognition, and they once more turned and walked away towards the place they called home, acting for all the world like nothing has changed their lives that fateful night, when deep in their hearts, they both knew that with their new child, everything had indeed been changed.
Golden eyes that seemed too old to be within someone with such a young body closed in their slitted gaze, finally able to relax, knowing somehow that the two figures that now carried him, though scantily dressed and barely fed to be able to last them through the next day, would indeed take good care of him as they promised.
And on that night, as the couple took in their home an abandoned child, Apollyon had finally been born.
"So the Lord put a mark on Cain, lest anyone should kill him at sight" - Genesis 4:15A/N:
1. Omri - in Hebrew means " life God has given" In a deeper sense, this also symbolizes a new beginning, the start of a new life.
For those who are reasonably confused: Apollyon would be his "real" or historical name, the name that was given him when he was first formed. Omri would be just his alias, or his human name. Back in those times, names hold a certain power over people. If you knew the real name of the person, then in essence you control him/her. That is why most people back then have many names. Makes introducing yourself a pain, no? -
