Second encounter
Nov 13, 2018 18:18:06 GMT
Post by Jashin on Nov 13, 2018 18:18:06 GMT
Jashin watched as his now-malformed body scented the air in great, dry pulls. The creature's posture would have been almost humorous if its presence hadn't been so horrifying: it sat in a sea of grass with its muzzle in the air, tail swaying gently back and forth, like some great black dog enjoying the breeze. But Jashin's connection with the demon--with himself, he realized with a start--told him that it found no joy in nature. Only the hunt mattered to it.
And now it was on the scent.
Ah, there you are, little kitten, it purred, swinging its head in the direction of the manor. So swift you fly, yes. So graceful. But now we come with your gift, and we will find you.
The demon stood, then, hunched on its back legs and spread its wings wide. They arced back and curled to grip the strong sea breeze, then pulled the creature into the air with an audible snap. Once, twice, thrice it pulled on the wind before the creature tucked its wings and dove. Had Jashin had lungs to fill with breath and a voice to cry out with, he certainly would have shouted in alarm as the demon hurtled straight at the night-strewn field. There was no alarm in the creature's mind, only dark purpose, as the ground rushed up to meet them both. Jashin had no eyes to squeeze shut, and so he watched in horror and waited for the impact.
Only the briefest hush of grass passing the demon's ears came to him before there was silence. No, less than silence. There was nothing. No waves crashing against the shore, no wind rustling through the grass or beating against his body. There was only a perfect and pure darkness all around him, a cocoon of umbral pitch. He should have been afraid, disoriented, but Jashin had never felt more at peace, complete. With that realization, his vision began to resolve and he found the creature hovering above the darkened field again. Had he somehow missed the creature's turn from its descent?
A notion prickled the back of his mind, and Jashin focused on it. He saw, then, that the demon hung in the air with its wings spread wide as if suspended, held perfectly still by an invisible hand. The landscape below had been altered as well, or perhaps his perception of it. All around him was a perfect black canvas upon which shadows had been painted in varying depths to form the field, the cliff, the forest, and even the manor. There was no other way to describe it, even to himself: it was all varying shades of blackness and shadow, and yet he could see as clearly as a moment ago. No, with even greater clarity. True, there were no colors here, but somehow Jashin could still perceive them in his mind. Slashes of pale grey cut across the landscape here and there, and Jashin realized they were places where moonlight fell fullest.
They had passed through the shadows cast by the blades of grass in the field and entered a realm of dark reflection!
Home, the creature gurgled solemnly. Reverently, as if the one-made-two were in a holy place. Perhaps they were. It certainly felt that way, somehow. The World Behind the World, some have called it. Belzha's Cloak. The Nightlands. That Which Is No More. The Void. This place has many names, but it is the true home of our people. But it is profaned.
Jashin followed the creature's gaze and understood. A faint ribbon of true color wove along the landscape of night, a pale crimson thread staining an abyssal tapestry.
Even here, Droa's betrayal is painted stark for all to see, the demon growled. Here, it is laid bare that none can contest it. So deep did Her Daughter wound our Great Mistress that the pain of it is found closest to Her heart. That is why it must be purged, and we are the reapers!
Like an avenging angel the creature flicked its wings and dove again, but this time towards the manor. It did not fly so much as swam through the gloaming world, its body undulating like a snake as it followed the trail. Jashin could still sense the chiera's fear, and the creature scented it as surely as a bloodhound. The walls of the manor were as fog to them both as the demon pushed through them, a ripple of presence against the skin but having no substance. Back and forth they swam, up into the dilapidated attic and down into the dank cellar, until they found the demon's prey.
A thread of brilliant white cut across the room where she hid, and he watched the creature slither around it as if it were not only solid but dangerous. It came to rest just beyond the wall opposite her, and Jashin felt almost a dark glee as the demon pushed towards the black space. It wanted her to be afraid. It was toying with her.
A gentle pressure came to Jashin then as the other pushed through the shadow wall and pulled itself back into the realm of color and light. The demon only emerged far enough that its head and shoulders peeked through the shadowed wall where she could see, the rest of it still lingering in the Void. It leered at her until it caught her attention, then gave that same horrid chuckle.
Hello, little one.
And now it was on the scent.
Ah, there you are, little kitten, it purred, swinging its head in the direction of the manor. So swift you fly, yes. So graceful. But now we come with your gift, and we will find you.
The demon stood, then, hunched on its back legs and spread its wings wide. They arced back and curled to grip the strong sea breeze, then pulled the creature into the air with an audible snap. Once, twice, thrice it pulled on the wind before the creature tucked its wings and dove. Had Jashin had lungs to fill with breath and a voice to cry out with, he certainly would have shouted in alarm as the demon hurtled straight at the night-strewn field. There was no alarm in the creature's mind, only dark purpose, as the ground rushed up to meet them both. Jashin had no eyes to squeeze shut, and so he watched in horror and waited for the impact.
Only the briefest hush of grass passing the demon's ears came to him before there was silence. No, less than silence. There was nothing. No waves crashing against the shore, no wind rustling through the grass or beating against his body. There was only a perfect and pure darkness all around him, a cocoon of umbral pitch. He should have been afraid, disoriented, but Jashin had never felt more at peace, complete. With that realization, his vision began to resolve and he found the creature hovering above the darkened field again. Had he somehow missed the creature's turn from its descent?
A notion prickled the back of his mind, and Jashin focused on it. He saw, then, that the demon hung in the air with its wings spread wide as if suspended, held perfectly still by an invisible hand. The landscape below had been altered as well, or perhaps his perception of it. All around him was a perfect black canvas upon which shadows had been painted in varying depths to form the field, the cliff, the forest, and even the manor. There was no other way to describe it, even to himself: it was all varying shades of blackness and shadow, and yet he could see as clearly as a moment ago. No, with even greater clarity. True, there were no colors here, but somehow Jashin could still perceive them in his mind. Slashes of pale grey cut across the landscape here and there, and Jashin realized they were places where moonlight fell fullest.
They had passed through the shadows cast by the blades of grass in the field and entered a realm of dark reflection!
Home, the creature gurgled solemnly. Reverently, as if the one-made-two were in a holy place. Perhaps they were. It certainly felt that way, somehow. The World Behind the World, some have called it. Belzha's Cloak. The Nightlands. That Which Is No More. The Void. This place has many names, but it is the true home of our people. But it is profaned.
Jashin followed the creature's gaze and understood. A faint ribbon of true color wove along the landscape of night, a pale crimson thread staining an abyssal tapestry.
Even here, Droa's betrayal is painted stark for all to see, the demon growled. Here, it is laid bare that none can contest it. So deep did Her Daughter wound our Great Mistress that the pain of it is found closest to Her heart. That is why it must be purged, and we are the reapers!
Like an avenging angel the creature flicked its wings and dove again, but this time towards the manor. It did not fly so much as swam through the gloaming world, its body undulating like a snake as it followed the trail. Jashin could still sense the chiera's fear, and the creature scented it as surely as a bloodhound. The walls of the manor were as fog to them both as the demon pushed through them, a ripple of presence against the skin but having no substance. Back and forth they swam, up into the dilapidated attic and down into the dank cellar, until they found the demon's prey.
A thread of brilliant white cut across the room where she hid, and he watched the creature slither around it as if it were not only solid but dangerous. It came to rest just beyond the wall opposite her, and Jashin felt almost a dark glee as the demon pushed towards the black space. It wanted her to be afraid. It was toying with her.
A gentle pressure came to Jashin then as the other pushed through the shadow wall and pulled itself back into the realm of color and light. The demon only emerged far enough that its head and shoulders peeked through the shadowed wall where she could see, the rest of it still lingering in the Void. It leered at her until it caught her attention, then gave that same horrid chuckle.
Hello, little one.