A distant ringing seemed to materialize in his head, one that was not unlike the deep trolling of a church bell. Funny that such a harmonious thing would ever find its way to a creature such as Déodat, but the trilling persisted. For some time he tried to shake the ghostly song but of course he found no reprieve, just as he would find no reprieve from the everlasting darkness that now terrorized Helovia. Déodat had never been one to embrace the sunlight and the mercy of daytime, but now that it was lost, he felt equally desiring of its infinite comforts. He had encountered a strange mare by the name of Confutatis and while she left him feeling bereft, he was little concerned with her threats as he made his way back from the Steppe to the Basin that lay beyond. It was a good distance to close the dips and rises between the two lands, but he took the time to wonder why things had been changed so drastically.

Of course he was unaware of the battle raging between the Gods and the earth itself, but at least his sanity was still intact. There was a beauty after all, in the darkness that consumed him. He enjoyed the enticing chill that settled over his shoulders and made him numb- it was something like a drug to his deadened senses. However, the land was not without light entirely because the soft glow of the mysterious lanterns was careful enough to light his way. Where had they come from anyhow?

The soft shrug of his weary step fell into rhythm with the vicious ringing in his head and when he finally made his way to the borders of the Basin, he was glad to feel the relief that came wafting over him at the thought of home. Even though the unexplained chorus remained without wavering, Déodat was certainly pleased with the sense of belonging that seemed to expel the growing wealth of dread that had formerly engulfed him in the Steppe. There was no beauty left without the light of day and no stars to guide his eye which left him feeling empty in spite of his partial likeness to the dark.

Slowly, the painted beast weaved through the outlying trees of his home, searching absently for the next faint glow of a lantern that was meant to allow him sight in this eternal pit of blackness. He hadn’t been searching for anyone in particular when it came to wanting answers for the problems that were now arising without the sun, but when he stumbled upon Lena standing listlessly at the water’s edge of a lake that was curiously still lapping upon the shores, he paused. He did not greet her right away in fear that he might catch her off guard, considering she was just as blinded as he without the colorful ribbons of light so often woven through the skies above. Instead, he let the breeze announce him as it carried his scent along its quiet current to her awaiting senses.

"I don’t suppose you know why we’ve been doomed to this darkness now would you?” A slight quirk of his upper lip could have been seen if there were light to soften his face, but of course all one could hear were the rough tones of a vagabond prince with a crimson horn. The soft lilt to his tone might have been enough to warm the Nurse, but other than that, she would have to rely on good faith alone to determine his mood. Slowly, the prince moved closer with his head hung low whispering soft baritones to the Kitsune at the mare’s feet. He had desired a companion of his own at one time, but of course was once again discouraged from the constant care such a thing would require. He was quite the rogue after all, surviving on the will of one who had lost everything and gained nothing from past pursuits.

It was a vicious life he lived, but at times he felt more prepared than most and now that the sun had gone and left the skies pale in its absence, Déodat would be one of the few to adapt to the change without a change of heart. He was certainly a cold creature when it came down to the wire, but at least he was able to escape the struggles of life seemingly unscathed.

Her gaze was captivating or perhaps just curious considering he had never really realized how concerned she was about his welfare. A small smile cracked his lips but of course that tiny bit of curvature could never be detected in the dimly lit Basin.

He was pleased by such an advantage.

“As well as any I guess you could say. Keeps me entertained since patrolling the borders can be a tedious job if not entirely mind-numbing.” There was nothing spectacular about being a soldier in any regard, but at least it allowed him these arbitrary encounters with pretty faces such as the Nurse. The darkness made good on its promise to conceal them from pesky bystanders and Déodat was confident enough to use the opportunity to draw closer, his head low and ruby horn extended outward in a silent, deadly greeting. When he had sufficiently closed the distance between them, he cast his longing gaze out over the serene waters of the iceless lake, content to ponder its mere existence. The beast was unsure if he felt the need to continue conversation with the nurturer only because the bliss that folded around them was enough to imprison any words volatile enough to find their way to his lips.

However, the chiming in the back of his mind had decided to lift its ugly head from the dark depths of his wonder and though he could not name from where it originated, he knew that it was certainly there, persistent as ever in spite of the irritability it left in its wake. For a moment he debated on whether or not to ask Lena to hum him a little tune to make the trilling cease, but of course he could not find the courage to indulge her attentiveness to his wellbeing.

Somehow it made him feel selfish… and so the ringing remained.

“You look quite well even in all this darkness. It suits you.” There was nothing in his tone to suggest anything other than a frank amiability behind such a compliment in spite of the fact that he found sweet Lena to be a creature of beauty. If there had been any other way to go about expressing himself, he certainly wasn’t aware of it and held no future intentions of changing it. A man set in his ways would only be such a man and Déodat was certainly a man who clung to the idea that as such a man, he was not limited to the formalities of friendship or anything of the like. “I hope you don’t mind the company, I could use a break from the insanity I’ve encountered today.”

Confutatis was still on his mind, even after she had disappeared into the ice and snow of the Steppe. However, her words still hung in midair like a shadow waiting to engulf him in its perilous embrace. Déodat couldn’t understand why he felt so perturbed by her threats, but he could only ignore them for so long. As he tried to harbor his emotions, his wonder, and his spite for the wolfish creature with a skull-painted face, he noticed that the incessant ringing grew in volume. It was a sickening thing and as he tried to deal with the ramifications of such an encounter, he closed his eyes to the Nurse hoping that she would miss the loss of reflection in his deadened eyes.

When the trilling seemed to subside for a time, the painted lord invited the world back into view. He wasn’t sure if he’d been tainted by her extortions or by his own anxieties alone, but while he sought refuge and calm from the catastrophe that he had endured only a short time before, he could not escape the guilt that wound around his heart. He had been weakened by the primal need for release and now, not only would he have to deal with his own dirty secrets, he would also have to evade one of the purest creature known to the Basin.

For the first time in his life he was truly and utterly fucked.

“If I asked you to sing me a song, would you promise not to question why?”

The chaotic melodies of the wood began to quiet, slowly fading into the backdrop of beautiful slumber in spite of the growing chorus of Lena’s song. It wrapped around him and suddenly a flame flew rampant through his chest. The burning was not unpleasant but more so an intimate embrace that made him feel light and airy. He could not explain the feeling nor could he escape it, so he simply fell under her spell and threw himself from the ledge of his desires so that he might be able to hide from his pain.


There was a slight break in the song, a moment in which the Queen drew the slightest intake of breath and so he opened his eyes to gaze upon her, silently thanking her for every word uttered and sung. A friend to him she was and though he would never be able to justify why she remained as such, he was infinitely glad that she did. Though he could not see her eyes in all the darkness that surrounded them, he knew that the life he would find there would be just as inspiring as the creature herself, so guileless and proud, innocent and pure. These attributes were only attainable by the virgin herself and for that he could not understand why she would taint herself with his impurities and his sin. At one time he found such qualities to be, though endearing, a mere mockery to the warrior he had once been. However, he wasn’t so sure that he was still the impenetrable beast capable of slaying whole families at the will of his own Father. Instead, he found that he had been softened somewhere along the way, now vulnerable to the insecurities that lurked just beneath the surface of his smooth veneer.


As her tune continued, Déodat calmed and began to lose himself entirely to her power. It was soothing enough for him to be able to relax each muscle until the tension had drained away into the entirety of the earth. Beneath him the ground was hard and yet it comforted him to know that it too seemed to cradle his essence in a cold embrace. Each pitch seemed to carry him high and then drop him low enough that sleep seemed to be waiting just beyond the cliff of his resolve. It swayed and danced along in the darkness as they stood and for a time the Blood Prince was content to watch it smile and laugh between chords. When it appeared that the song had ended, he felt dismayed, saddened to know that it was done. Shortly after, the dissonant voice of the wood grew in volume and the pair was once again plagued by reality and the lack of peaceful splendor. “Thank you”, he murmured. The words were so quiet, they appeared to have come from a different entity entirely, and perhaps they had.


Déodat was an ever-changing creature; there was certainly no doubt about that. But he was content with the changes that were headed his way, which included the softening of his hardened walls so that one day they might eventually be able to come crashing down. He had forgotten momentarily his irrational behavior in the presence of the skull-faced mare and instead thought openly about life and the many paths that lay before him. “Such a whimsical song. Where did you learn it?” He had turned to face the Queen in spite of the darkness that he knew would cloud her features from his curious eye. He listened intently, eager to hear her colorful notes paint the night in deep reds and blues, for she had been able to ignite a fire within him that had long ago died in battle. But perhaps he would find himself returned, if only with a bit of help from his only true friend and ally.