Eda was having a strange week.
On some other day, she might have been entranced by the idea of her life getting a bit spicier. Because seriously, you would expect being the greatest outlawed to walk the Boiling Isle would be exhilarating, but after the first few years, it had become more of an afterthought, especially when the big honcho himself randomly stopped anyone strong enough that could give her a bit of a challenge of coming after her.
Eda had lived a long life, accomplishing things many only dreamed of seeing, much less doing, and being a highly-wanted criminal did not make it in her top ten.
Her life had become dull, and what in the past used to pump her blood now was too boring to be worthwhile. Still, despite her experience and all her achievements, she wasn't prepared for the "spice" that had decided to fall into her life.
Said "spice" was a malnourished-looking kid who seemed seconds away from collapsing into a pile of ramshackle piles of bones, whose arrival into her life might have also ruined her entire business.
Let it be known that Eda would never blame the kid, not now and not ever. Sure, the portal she had used all her life to travel to the human realm had been entirely obliterated, turning what was once an imposing door into nothing more than wood chips and an azure liquid that had sipped into the ground but that was nothing more than an inconvenience that she will deal with latter and wouldn't affect her view on the kid.
That was especially true when considering how the kid reacted.
Every child she knows, from demon to witch, would no doubt be terrified to be stranded in a world so different from theirs, it was natural and she probably would be the same, although not terrified because she is cool like that.
Eda had expected them to grovel at her feet to keep them around and maybe help her find a way to return home.
But Luz didn't.
In the most hollow tone possible, she told Eda that she had nothing to apologize about since it was probably her fault the teleporter defected and that she would no longer burden Eda with her presence as she had already done enough damage, even though, realistically speaking, there was no way it could be her fault.
Those words struck Eda like a punch to the gut, making her almost stagger in disbelief.
' What the hell did this girl go through? '
That statement echoed in her mind like the chiming of a bell, and like a catalyst of a grand event, it forced a decision into motion. Maybe she was not ready, but Eda would be damned if she let the girl spiral further, no matter the pleas to do the opposite that resonated from a tiny iota of her entire being, the warning cries of the Owl Beast falling deaf ears.
Like an indistinguishable force had begun applying its weight on top of her lungs, Luz was barely registering how hard it was to breathe.
Her legs turned to mush as she fell to her knees, the delicate fabric of her jeans shredding on the uneven road as the jagged rocks punctured her skin, not sharp enough to draw blood but sufficiently to prick at her senses. But it was good as the pain managed to ground Luz long enough for the kind offer made by the women she had met for less than a day not to fracture her cluttered mind.
The bold declaration made by Eda bounced and ricocheted across the walls of her skull, each unbelievable word making her lip quiver and heart tighten, sending an uneven tremor down her spinal cord.
"None of that nonsense. Until I manage to fix this damn door, you shall stay at the owl house and be known as the apprentice of Eda, the most powerful witch the Boiling Isle had ever seen."
Her speech was rich, emphatic, and no matter how much Luz tried to spot a lie in her tone, a virtue Luz had developed for her safety and those around her, she didn't find anything. And that thought made her feel like her mind was slowly fracturing in uneven shards, gritting against one another in fracture patterns that shook her consciousness.
She may not hear the words to their fullest because of the rumbling decomposition of her skull, but some of her mind could still process what Eda was saying.
What this incredible woman was saying.
Like a safe boat between the churning waves of a dead sea, Eda's offer was something she had long ago attributed only to her mother's words of comfort. A spark of hope blossomed in her chest, making it seem like her rib cage's tight grip on her internal organs had lessened just for a moment. She did not deserve this hope, this kindness directed at her like it was nothing, and even though her stupid heart seemed to relish in the feeling, she was not that idiotic to feel great about the situation.
For what a terrible thing she was to trick such an incredible person into taking pity on her. A disgusting manipulator, that's what she was, reaching new lows and managing to deceive another person like her mom into falling into her strings.
A dark beacon consumed the insignificant light that had barely just begun to rise from the hideous depths, for there was no way she could dispute those words. And to make it worse, from the ugly truth, a question blossomed to life that quickly and mercilessly managed to cut off the supply of happiness that the kind words spoken by Eda had pumped into her empty soul.
How could she, a monster, freak nightmare dressed in human skin, convince such a powerful and kind woman that she was worthy? How did she lie so well? Why did she always taint the kindest people?
It shouldn't and couldn't be real, and any second, she waited for Eda to laugh in her face and cast her away as so many had done beforeโ for that was what she deserved , but against all odds, Eda didn't .
No one offered her anything, not without a price. No one gave her a chance, for what chance did the end of everything deserve?
And yet
Eda did.
she couldn't breathe
No strings attached, Eda truly believed that she wanted Luz, the cursed rancid beast , to become her apprentice, no questions asked.
She couldn't breathe
How could this happen to her? how? howhowhow? HOW
Understanding the women's reasoning was beyond Luz. She was a nightmare, for no matter how much she triedโand try she did for every second alive she attempted to prove to those around her that she could be a kind, friendly human, to prove otherwise, she never achieved anything.
SHE COULDN'T BREATH
She was a wretched calamity wearing in a human corpse, something that did not deserve forgiveness for the deplorable crime of its mere existence.
And yet, Eda still decided to keep her around even though everything was Luz's fault, her incompetence being the reason Eda's door and subsequent business were now in ruinโ but despite
grappling with feelings of disgrace toward herself , amber eyes gleamed for the first time in so many years of being plagued by dullness and terror. Invisible to the mortal eye, none could see how Luz felt her skin peeling as she fought the grin that desired to blossom on her face. None could see as she fought against the urge never to allow the women to leave her as so many had done before. To still be able to relish in the sensation of happiness her words brought forth and cast away the spindly fingers of dread, fear, and emptiness that curled around her mind
BREATH
Her fists tightened around her hair, ripping some of the bits of keratin fiber that held her hair together, her lungs surged into action as she broke through the trance, feeling her heartbeat echo behind her ribcage.
Eda wanted an apprentice, meaning she needed to be strong and brave, and not Luz.
With a shaky breath that felt like dozens of tons of water were being pressed into her lungs, she moved to Eda's right side, and before she could even think how, her body shifted automatically, forcing her mind to comply.
Like a searing metal blade pressed against her mouth, she felt its burning edge move her lips into a forceโ always forced -smile, for her true smile had been lost alongside everything else.
She missed her smile
Even though the idea still racked her mind, the kindness of one person shaking her entire being, she couldn't let Eda or anyone see her so vulnerable. That was unbecoming of an apprentice.
She will have all the time she needs at night to lament her disgusted nature when the world's watchful eyes are asleep.
Right now, she didn't need to be Luz Noceda but the joyful human teen eager to become an apprentice. Another lie to showcase the manipulator
But that is her nature, for what human sees fragments of a forest beyond life and death, feel the rumbling of the last Nightmare to grace existence in her head or hear the incessant ringing and cries of the swirling stars of magnificent and heat that glared at her from the sky.
But that doesn't matter now.
If she can survive by tricking incredible people like Eda and her mother into thinking that she is more than a cheating nightmare, it is worth it.
If she could experience the blissful kindness that people like her mother and Eda could give out so freely, it was worth it.
For what is a monster better at than sucking the good in other people.
Eda appeared oblivious to her inner turmoil, as Luz had enough experience to know how to hide her pathetic moment of weakness.
However, unbeknownst to Luz, Eda was preoccupied with calming the screeching warning of the Owl Beast inside of her that gave her a headache.
But contrary to her naive belief, the Owl Beast's actions were not fueled by malice of spite. Instead, her forced companion sought to preoccupy Eda and prevent her from glancing behind her, for if she did turn in that moment, she would catch a glimpse of the monstrosity that rested behind Luz's shadow.
A monster that had decided to push forward instead of just lingering in the back as it always did, a monster whose kin she had stood up against and had suffered the consequences for their transgression. For despite their constant fights and struggles, the Owl Beast cared enough for Eda to know that if she had turned back just for a moment, she would see the nightmare she had disturbed with her kind words, a calamity that would tear everything that defined Eda without lifting a finger.
"Come on, you two, I can already feel the power destined to be mine, and when it's mine, I will wreak havoc and humiliate all who stand in the king's path." The voice was intriguing as it blended childhood innocence with sharp clicks reptilian in nature.
Eda straightens up a bit, a grin blooming across her face. "Listen, kid, as my apprentice, your first mission is to help us recuperate King's stolen crown that is kept behind a barrier only humans can pass through."
Luz accepts, of course, and without any fanfare, they are off, soaring toward the Warden's prison.
The air is cold but invigorating, and the sun is shining over the Titan's skull as they approach the Conforatorium, bathing the skies in patches of light hue pink akin to the color of smoke bush.
Perhaps a testament to good days to come.
"Luz!"
Eda's voice barely carries over the wind deafening her ears as the rapier-shaped tentacle mess that was the Warden's hand clams down where she stood a second ago, the razor-sharp blade colliding with Eda's right side as Luz's body is catapulted in the air.
Her eyes widened in shock as she watched the witch's muscle and bone parting under the force of the blow, the sickening sound of meat rupturing reverberating in the air, which was followed by the sound of concrete smushed into a fine paste as the Warden's "weapon" struck the ground, forming a crated with dimensions and length akin to that of a small bus.
Luz's blood freezes like liquid concrete in her veins and arteries, her body struggling and attempting to regain its balance just as the Warden pulls his arm back. Without wasting a second, she rushed with uneven steps, fingers digging into the Warden's neck as she jumped on his back, trying to pull him away from Eda.
That, of course, is ineffective against someone who can crush buildings like they are bugs and smash through metal like molten clay, and with a well-placed neck?headbutt from behind, he dispatched Luz to the floor with a loud crunch.
Her hand clutched to her face as her nose hemorrhaged in thin red tracks, staining her blouse with crimson stains that slipped into the material and
With an unamused huff, the Warden's tentacle-like hand morphs into a long, jagged spear, its sharpened tip perfectly aligned with Eda's chest cavity.
The world halts, time slowing to a sickening crawl as terror blooms in Luz's core.
In the corner of her eye, she catches a glimpse of the prisoners she and King had aided escape not long ago, now stuck frozen alongside the entire prison, mere silent witnesses to Eda's soon-to-be execution.
She is acutely aware of the rising ascent of her stress levels, each passing moment the spear encroaching onto Eda's chest adding to the mounting pressure that builds in her chest and becoming the catalyst of what will happen next.
Or what was supposed to happen.
Luz was supposed to bear herself as a chorus of howling cries and ever-growing bones sprouted from her open wounds, battling her own body for control in hopes of not everything she had so briefly and naively allowed herself to hold dear.
But nothing happens.
The Hunter doesn't rise from the depth of her for the first time since that night she had hurt her mother, their absence so absurd and sudden that she chokes on her saliva.
Questions in the hundreds surge to life with that realization, but the spear's tip a few centimeters away from Eda's hearth did not allow them to fester.
Her senses grit and twist in nauseating ways as she searches for their horrid presence, and sure enough, it does not take long to find the orbs of pure malice incarcerated at the bottom of her mind. Those orbs, whose only desire had always been to escape and to unmake in their ceaseless hatred, and to unmake, the same orbs that bore the same desire moments ago, now didn't.
For those orbs were waiting for her answer.
What answer, one might ask, when there wasn't even a question, but poor little Luz didn't need to hear the Nightmare speak to know its intention long before a sentence could be spoken.
Would she use the wicked and tainted power that courses through her bone marrow to protect Eda, or would she let her perish and continue to be the useless creature she had always been?
Down in the inky depths of her consciousness, she could feel the Nightmare grin, each tooth an amalgamation of cosmic atrocity held together by Song and hatred, horror, and madness softy coiling around her mind and turning the world into static.
She turned her gaze away from them , searching for anything that could help Eda that wasn't her cruel companion.
Bile mixed with saliva stirred in her throat as she turned her trembling gaze toward the woman, the spear of Warden Wrath already breaching the outermost layer of her skin with ease, eliciting a small gush of blood that trickled fort across the spear.
And that image removes any other option she might have taken, crystalizing her choice into existence.
A part of her mind crumbled instantly as she took the metaphorical hand of the creature that feasted upon devils and gods, collapsing onto itself while something else took its place.
The change is so fast that she can't even comprehend it until something so rudimentary to her human nature is removed, leaving only untamed hatred.
No, something worse sparked in the hole where her heart should be, pouring through every crevice of her body and distorting Luz's perception of the world around her. With every breath, she reveals evils that would make every sin committed by the witch and demon-kind look compassionate.
An emotion so sickening that it makes irrelevant laws absolute is birthed in the Center of her non-existent soul, one that would see the world kneel for her and grant her the absolute right to enforce their values on reality and watch it bend.
The strength to crush the outer gods and ancient primordials with their presence alone and twist the ground and sky to their whims with a glance, a power that was now in horrendous sync with their desire to save Eda.
They She closes the distance in a single step, almost synchronizing with her right-hand silhouette which is birthed in insidious corrosion that envelopes it fully, flesh and blood boiling into waxen powder under the decaying influence of her bone.
Every bone in the Warden's body, nay, in every creature in a one-hundred radius tense, a tiny, so insignificant iota of their being understanding on a primitive level, that something beyond words, beyond languages, had descended from a higher dimension into their little world, nothing more than a metaphor of the end of all that isn't their scratching Song.
Her phalanges morph into claws as her arm bloats and transitions, increasing in size with each new bone that sprouts from her original osseous tissues, clasping together and splitting through oxygen molecules in the process.
Then the portion that had crumbled in Luz's mind forms again against all odds, the indomitable spirit of humanity escaping from the clutches of unending hatred and forcing her consciousness back into her body.
Luz stirs from the haze induced by the Hunter's power, blinking dazedly as she realizes that she is not even an inch away from smashing against the Warden's back, an ironic situation that mirrored that of his spear and Eda's heart.
Although, unbeknownst to Luz, the spear piercing Eda's heart wouldn't even faze the powerful witch, while on the other hand, her attack fueled by an echo of the Nightmare imprisoned under her flesh would not leave a speck of the demon.
Grinding her endlessly multiplying teeth together, she forces every muscle and tendon left in her body to pries her right hand away from its imminent trajectory toward the Warden's body, grabbing onto it with her left one and pushing.
The moment her left hand touched the surface of the bone, she felt a bizarre but so familiar pain course through her body. It was a pain different from being burned or cut, but something far more wicked, a pain that forced its way into her ambitions, crushing them under its weight and leaving only broken cinder in their wake. A pain that wormed its way into her memories and anatomy, contorting her own identity into broken fractals that replicated the same despair a hundred times over.
Swerving the blow from impacting him by a strand of hair, she released her hold on what was left of her right hand, a momentary and tiny burst of relief flooded her body quickly followed by the power of the Hunter consuming .
The impact is catastrophic.
The concrete shatters into millions of irregular pieces, sending debris flying in every direction like deadly shrapnel that splits the air. Her fists crashed against the ground with such force that the entire floor of the Conforatorium crumbled like glass, splintered into ever-changing fissures aligned like spider webs which sang with the shriek of tortured concrete.
The blast, as if fueled by their hatred, eradicated half of the observatory wall in a delirious flash, consuming the water that threatened to breach through as it cleansed a path through the Boiling Sea, the air and fusing in a ruinous mixture that gave birth and subsequently shattered unstable and nigh-invisible singularities, the non-newtonian energy paving an asymmetrical crater that reached the bottom of the boiling ocean.
Reality churns under the weight of their oppressive loathing, the Hunter's and Luz's judgment swallowing the entire prison in a wave of almost unnoticed blood lust.
A sovereign will represent the most profound image of hate.
What was once the enormous wall and the reinforced floor of the Confurmitorium now was nothing but pulverized rubles stranded in a sea of swirling dust, even the bone of the Titan vanishing in a flash of static disorder, the only proof that there was something had been there before was the crater carved into the land.
Luz falls to the ground for what feels like one hundred times today, staring at her right hand whose flesh had been stripped clean, leaving her naked in ways she loathed with every fiber of her being.
And despite the anxiety that resurfaces in her gut, she waits for the incoming struggle for control over her own body, but despite everything she was forced to learn to survive, the Hunter relents again , newly-formed muscles and skin wrapping tightly around her entire arm like they had always been there.
She feels the influence of the Hunter vanish deep into her mind, leaving her with only a dull throbbing in her arm and crocked laughter that crawled and buried itself in her spinal cord like an unrelenting parasite, one that held the foreign taste of satisfaction but also an indifference to her control over her body.
Nonetheless, no matter how one looks at it, even if ignoring the Nightmare's abnormal behavior, in their seemingly sudden indifference e they had undoubtedly achieved, albeit in an infimum percent, the level of devastation they so desired.
And the Hunter didn't even need to lift a finger.
Purple and churning liquid consums his form right as a deformed creature of sulfur and plasma collided with the refracting ground formed of bright shadows, sending a tremor that awakes a crystal centipede of hellish proportion that had been resting for eons under the surface, its maw an inestimable mass of crooked teeth clamping down on one of the heads of the deformed sulfur monster, the sheer cry of the creature shattering the broken light reflecting from a black sun no bigger than his finger, the very fabric of reality bending under the weight of the two Abyss creatures as more anomaly breach the pocket-dimension through the cracks that pierced the non-existent sky.
Darius does not waste his time watching their battle unfold as the violet fluid moves him past broken realms of madness and frozen entropy, spiting him up in the material realm under the kind light of a functional and real sun, pulling the alien blood of some creature he had slain from his cloths and swiftly throwing them back from where they came from through a smaller portal as he pries himself out of the dark patches that plagued the throne room.
The entire room is coated in the shimmering sheen of gold that lightly radiates from every surface and cranny, each wall decorated with different canvas and paintings depicting the transformation of the empire over the decades.
The guardians of the emperor stood in each corner of the room, all wearing ashen suits with the symbol of the royal coven embedded on their back, the material sewn from the cartilage of the Titan and the silk of some flower in the lowest ring of Abyss.
Darius had gotten to work with them the past years and knew that, if not for their undying loyalty, they could each dispatch all the supposed elites that were the Coven Heads with ease. That fact is quickly proven when they sense his presence breaches the throne room before the rest of the room's inhabitants even realize there is someone else in the room with them.
Before the lavish throne coated by shadows, Lilith and Kikimora are kneeling, their form hunched in the presence of the Emperor.
"... whatever attack my sister had used had incapacitated everyone in the room, it had regrettably stopped me from trying to make that stubborn woman understand the magnificent of your Majesty's will"
Lilith's voice resonated in the chamber, transparent discomfort plaster across her face as she tried, and from Darius' own experience, absolutely failed to flatter the Emperor. No amount of embellished words could help you when Belos was angry.
A bubble of silence envelops the room as sweat drips from Lililth's chin, the anticipation killing her, and making it more awkward for Darius to announce his presence, but thankfully, not so much for Lilith, he doesn't wait long for a response.
The form of the Emperor shifts forward, his pale and golden strand of hair peaking from behind the golden mask, not at all dampening the effect of his azure and dark blue eyes respectively staring dagger at the poor woman.
"Believe me when I say that the information you brought to me is of slight importance, but that still doesn't explain the reason you three had decided it was such a grand idea to disobey my word."
The ex-coven head of abomination senses the body of the three shivered at the frigid tone of the Em-wait, three?
The man's eyes widened as he realized that the golden guard was kneeling right beside Lilith, his slightly smaller frame dwarfed by her tall form.
An excruciating and tired escapes Darius, pinching the bridge of his nose as fatigue and dread gradually encroaches on his soul.
'What did you get yourself into, kid'
The ivory floor groans under the weight of the Emperor as he rises from his throne, the shadows that obscure him melting away, revealing the form of the man who stood at the top of the echelons of the empire.
Emperor Belos was tall, dwarfing almost all witches on the island, his height always making Darius feel like a child.
His body was clad in heavy armor made from a mixture of gold and other materials he had yet and will never see in the Higher ring of the Abyss. His face was entirely concealed by a mask with two massive horns sprouting from the top and curling around his cranium.
Standing, his height casts long shadows over the entire chamber, the fire burning in the cauldrons that light up the room dimming under his presence.
"Unc-I mean Your Majesty, the Owl Lady is a threat to the empire, and I- We believe that such an enemy to the state can't be allowed to roam free."
The emperor's gaze turns to the Golden Guard, his mask baring down on the child with enough pressure to make the boy bow his head even lower, his covered face almost touching the floor.
"You consider that your judgment of how we should deal with the Eda Clawthron reigns higher than mine." His voice echoed from around the room as he spoke, but he continued before either could give an excuse.
"You believe so little in the empire I pulled from the earth that you entertain the idea that a ruffian can disturb everything I had built for decades?"
Belos inquired, casting a glance toward Darius, scaring the living shit out of him when those burning orbs set upon him before returning his gaze to the three.
"Please, y-your majesty, we would never allow ourselves to be entertained by such disloyal thoughts." Kikimora could barely get her praises right, the poor thing stumbling on her own words. Darius couldn't help but feel a bit of pity for her, even if she was one of the most annoying people he had to deal with on a daily basis.
Darius would have probably shown a bit of mercy to the little demon's mistake, considering the depraved state she found herself in as quivered with a mix of shame and fear, each tremor making a droplet of water slip from her bloodshot eyes.
But the emperor was many but not merciful.
"Then please enlighten me, my loyal subjects, when I elucidated it especially clear that no one under my banner shall trifle with Eda Clawtron, and the three of you, in your unbreakable devotion and quest to prove your loyalty, do
WHAT EXACTLY ?"
The sudden and consuming nature of the blooming malice birthed in the air causes even the emperor guards to stiffen, Darius himself having to push his particular abilities and magic to their limit to not collapse to the floor. Belos' last words triggered a miniature earthquake that shook the entire citadel, forming cracks in the room's walls and pulling the breath out of Lilith, Kikimora, and Caleb's respiratory tract with an invisible but oppressive grip, the malice in the air almost crushing their lungs. The shadows that had unfurled in the room quaked in tune with the emperor's endless soul, each showing glimpses of legions of endless creatures constructed from alien logic and infernal blaze.
It was like the hand of God was pressed against their back, but that was doing it a big disservice, for the soul of Belos harbored not one god but many.
The weight, at last, vacates as the Emperor sighs tiredly, a bit of the tension in the room bleeding away as its inhabitants are allowed to breathe.
"Time, as you will soon see, is limited, use what is left of it to learn from your mistake. You are dismissed."
Without another word, the man clicks his fingers and dispatches the trio through the colossal door and out of the throne room before closing said door sharply in their petrified faces.
Belos turned his attention to Darius, his expressionless mask revealing nothing about the man's previous emotions.
"I presume that you had not found it." Belos hums, another portal already forming behind him, this one no different than sifting glass shards, as he turns around and ushers Darius to follow.
"I scoured through the Upper Ring as much as I could but found nothing of what you asked me for." Darius admits, a bit defeated.
"A shame, but be not discouraged, it was an errand fool to believe the key to be so high in the Abyss," The emperor says, shaking his head as both of them are transported to his personal chamber.
One might expect that the emperor's private chamber would be lavish with all the luxuries the world can offer, but the room was almost bare besides a lone painting covered by a golden cloth and the basic necessities when it comes to furniture.
The covered canvas stood above a crowded desk that was more or less a graveyard of broken palismans that sent a shiver down his spine. It wasn't the first time he saw the ever-growing pile of palismans, but it never got better, their tiny screams never quite leaving him.
Belos wasn't deterred by his hesitance, marching toward the desk, his steps shaking the entire room each time he took a step. He searches aimlessly in the mound, and only when he finds nothing does he stretch an expecting hand toward Darius.
Ignoring the tinge of guilt that lingered in his soul, the ex-leader of the abomination coven moved his arm in a circular motion, prompting abomination liquid to form above the desk, and from within a bag with dozens of palismans slipped on top of the desk.
Without missing a beat, Belos takes the mask off his face and begins to crack them one by one, freeing the unrestrained magic filling his boundless hole where his soul should have been, an empty gap that clawed at his inside, masquerading itself as hunger.
As the number of the palismans subsides, the man foregoes breaking them, opting to swallow whole. The brittle surface of the palismans grinds against his teeth, some unfortunate ones having their carapace cracked under his molars.
Darius turns away the moment he catches a glimpse of something lurking behind the Emperor's teeth, but the sound of wood splintering and the quiet, almost silent scream of the souls that inhabited the palismans makes his heart nearly beat itself out of his chest.
He feels dirty just by contributing to the "Palismans genocide" but knows the alternative is far less pleasant for anyone involved.
"Sooo-hmm, what could cause you to be so irritated? Another one of your "friends" had decided to try their luck and escape?" Maybe he shouldn't try to make small talk when Belos might still be a smidge furious, but everything was better than hearing him chewing on those poor palismans. And if he was honest with himself, he was also a tad bit curious about what made him lose his temper, considering the amount of time Belos showed glimpses of actual anger to people could be numbered on the one hand.
Thankfully, the sound finally stops, and the Emperor places the talisman he is about to consume on the desk before wiping his chin to discard the fragments and splinters stuck on his chin, finally turning toward the other men in the room.
His hunger satiated for now.
"Our time had run out."
A beat of silence envelopes the room before a splutter of surprise erupts from Darius, unbecoming of a man of his status, in Belos' opinion.
"I-I? W-what?" The emperor ignores the failed attempt to communicate, Darius's gelatinous hair moving helplessly at the strange choice of words.
"I am not a man who believes in miracles, but still, I had held to the shimmering hope that we will have some time to prepare for the youngest hatred arrival."
The air seems heavier as the emperor continues to speak, Darius mind doing loops trying to understand what the fuck Belos was bubbling about because, for real, he could decipher languages from higher dimensions above the linguistic barrier of mundane words than whatever the man was talking about. But there was something that was prickling at his mind with a crooked finger, something that he had heard stories whispered in different parts of the surface of the abyss but could never determine the meaning behind the words.
"The youngest hatred?" The mere mention of the name leaves a bitter taste on his tongue, causing him to flinch involuntarily, and his body trembles for a second, a strange emotion settling in his bones that thankfully managed to drown the cries of his dead friend that had slimed their way into his mind.
Belos doesn't respond to his question-which isn't as typical as you would think, silently approaching the covered canvas, his footsteps echoing in the room as he reaches out and lays his hand against the thin, delicate curtain. In a flash of blinding light, the air fills with the sound of crackling flames as the veil erupts into a blaze of icy, azure blaze that engulfs its surface in a blink, revealing the artwork lying underneath.
Under the scorched curtain, remaining untouched by the strangely comforting flame was a painting that was stunning in ways he can't describe.
Painted by pencil, it was done with bold and delicate strokes that pay great attention to the details of the creature's face and its sickly crown of pale antlers.
The artwork is illustrated with a combination of different pencil grades and techniques to complete the portrait, each highlight and clean shadow creating an intensified sense of depth and dimension from the long antlers sprouting from the head and elongating in the air to the deformed maw whose depth seem boundless. And yet, for reasons he can't place, the depth and dimension looked unjust to his eyes, minimized and restrained in nature, almost like painting a three-dimensional object using only one-dimensional shapes.
"The last nightmare to bear the Roar of Finality, the impatient hatred that will push Life to annul, and the master of the last Hunt, they in all their unhallowness will soon be upon our sane world of man."
One must never succumb to the sweet and traitorous whispers of death, for it is the coward way out.
We are beings of null logic, gods and devils born from the roots of the Forest and the dreams of the Nightmares, destined to be feasted on by the same roots in a contrived cycle of end and rebirth that will be propagated until the end of this ceaseless Game.
We are beings of null logic, gods and devils born from the roots of the Forest and the dreams of the Nightmares, destined to be feasted on by the same roots in a contrived cycle of end and rebirth that will be propagated until the end of this ceaseless Game.
But, let it be known that if one is unfortunate enough to stand in the presence of the Pale Song and the Nightmare that spread the wicked melody, one must always choose death.
-๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ฐ๐๐ซ๐ง๐ข๐ง๐ ๐จ๐ ๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ซ๐ฌ๐๐ ๐๐๐ข๐ญ๐ฒ ๐ ๐ข๐ฏ๐๐ง ๐ญ๐จ ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐ฆ๐ฉ๐๐ซ๐จ๐ซ ๐จ๐ ๐๐ก๐๐ข๐ง๐ฌ
Notes:
A life of servitude under the Emperor is worse than death, not because you have to sacrifice your loved one for the Lord of Chains, but because you have to sacrifice so many just to save the few you love.
If you have any questions, don't forget to leave them in the comment.
Happy holidays and see y'all next time.