EREBOS

Their disappointments melded and molded in a fettered roll, a tattered coil. The boy felt the rancorous sentiments pang through his chest, where the curls of smoke and embers had already begun their zealous drums and ardent anarchy. He snuffed them out quickly, dampened the fire, and threaded together the ashes, the phoenix whims, for another time, attempting not to frown. Perhaps the invocations were not as triumphant as he first believed? Or maybe she’d seen such spectacular motions before, and believed them all to be the same? He glanced at the floor, at the cool, eerie pool, at the manifested chicanery controlling the world they roamed, and puffed only a quiet, nearly inaudible sigh.

But he was not allotted into shame or humiliation for long – her face appeared beneath his, vibrant and cheery again, excited at the potential for her success. The little beast was pleased he’d managed to secure and share some of his boldness for the girl, and he couldn’t quite contain his exuberance or merriment on her behalf, crooking his devilish smile while she expressed her awesomeness, while she craved and carved and caved into the reasons for her capacity and mastery. He nodded in due silence while she rattled, clearly sparked, incensed, and fervent for future occasions, and the scion chuckled, laughed, in the midst of the midnight breeze, in the warren and abyss of monstrous ogres, mysterious hymns, and nefarious enigmas. “Right!” Why else would the Gods bestow them with riches, with persistence, with perseverance? Didn’t they want mortals to strive? Didn’t they want them to go forth and dream? To conjure aspirations? To become consumed with ambition?

Or was it all a sick, cruel game?

He ignored the final thought, flicking his ears back over her words. The lad liked the term “Sir Erebos”, which made him sound mighty, stalwart, and knightly – despite the Machiavellian yearnings to harbor strife and harpoon virtue – and he ignored Orsino’s laughter across their unsung connection. Even if she was sheepish in her query, he was gallant, valiant, chivalrous, and heroic in his response, curling his smile into a fonder degree, remembering the days where Adelric had coaxed and cajoled him at Orsino’s birth, or before those moments, when young Tobias had toddled about the caverns, and he’d craved his own bonded. “Of course! You can find me in the Aurora Basin!” His grin embellished deeper and deeper, as if they were not surrounded by demons, by infidels, and by heathens – like he wouldn’t be amongst those clustered and consumed and mercenary, swinging his blade into chests and watching their life wither before his eyes.


@[Auriel]