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02-07-2017, 07:15 PM
Erebos
For all the days (his entire life) he’d spent within the confines of the mountain, where the cold sank and slithered into skin, where the chilling air provided endless brutality, where the midnight coils lounged in their curled avarice, he’d never met the God of Time.He’d meant to, once upon those scarce, impulsive moments of his youth, when he’d clambered around with Rikyn or where he’d raced about with Sjal, intending to do more harm than good, laughing, mocking, and wondering what Gods were like. Seasons before, he’d been bestowed with wisdom from the Sun God, stood before his blazing fire and infernal glory, been shocked, awed, amazed, inspired, and left with restlessness, heaps of potential, and an undying oath pressed across his lips. The boy had been bestowed with eternal queries and desires; but now, glancing before the great, grand beacon and his spitting edges of sparks, thunder, lightning, hours scaled and relished, he didn’t have anything but silent, quiet, simmering rage.
Where were you? he wanted to ask the patron deity. Where were you when father died? Was he worth so little to you? Hadn’t Deimos served him – perhaps not reverently, because he’d known his sire to be brutal and savage, contorted by his own power and no one else’s – led his empire for ages? Was the Reaper so easily forgotten, tossed aside, fragmented and splintered away like so many others before him? The youth wanted to believe it’d been a mistake, an error, but when there were only demands, only commands, only an arch of summons and brandished potency, he simply stared, confused, befuddled, rattled, apprehensive and still.
Orsino wisely said naught as they approached, perhaps because he was far more conniving, understood the ways in which Gods could reach into minds and souls, hissing at Erebos through their connection (stop, he growled, when the General only wanted to yell or cry, and the prince relented). The blue beast drew alongside his fellow soldier, Wessex, tipping his skull in acknowledgment of her presence, eyes sliding over Weaver and Albrecht, and then bowing his head to the God himself – for it was all he could do to cease himself from the inevitable disaster.
I'LL SHOW YOU HOW GOD | FALLS ASLEEP ON THE JOB
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