.closed starter | @ofkethe
They taste the night upon their tongue, yet it is a foreign sensation, for they find themselves now in a realm bound neither in the sea nor the sky. The astral sea above is foreign too, and it leaves them bereft, for where is the star that would guide them now?
Where then, is their path to the heavens?
Yet the pathless have no choice but to carry on nonetheless. And lost as they are now, so too do the fates weave before them; whispers and rumours each a stone placed beneath their feet, for it is amongst the chaff of humanity that they seek the deserving.
For kingdomless as they are now, dethroned and without even a crown, so too does a king demand their vassals. And so too would the deserving follow them to the heavens and bear witness then to the might of a king wronged; bear withness then to apotheosis born of flame and of blood.
Bells hanging from their horns announce their presence, yet their delicate countenance betrays nothing of the blade sheathed by their side. For they know well the treachery of humankind, and death could never come too soon to the accursed gods.
For seated upon their heavenly thrones as they are now, soon too will they be sent to the hells by this argent blade, as destiny would demand.
"Rumours promise much," they muse, eyes unnaturally bright as scales shimmer upon pale skin. A warning perhaps, or mere habit. For they, would-be king, demand respect even of ants. "And standing here as we are now, we taste the darkness heavy upon the air."
"Yet we would hear it from your lips instead - think you deserving of our favour? Dare you defy the gods?"
And lovely as their visage, there is danger too in how their eyes flash then with a severity unmatched, for they, bringer of storms and they, who would drown the earth, seek naught but revenge.
And those who would stand in their path deserve naught but the taste of blood to comfort them in death.
"Or shall you, too, fall to our blade?"
