her house sinks down to death and her course leads to the shades,
There had been suddenly so much going on within the world of Moladion and thus, Iromar. It was delightful, this new found activity and yet she found herself desiring to be alone come the return of winter's cusp. With winter so close, she knew she would be burdened once more with a swollen abdomen full of legs and flesh. Elesor had been relatively quiet, something that bothered her - it was a cause for concern for the girl had been born with an eye that refused to see. It was mercy on Lillith's behalf to allow the girl to breathe and she was proving herself to be less of the Demon her mother had hoped. Perhaps come winter and the promise of a new hoard, she would discuss with Andras what it was they should do about such a dilemma. Perhaps she had been lenient once but with the sudden progression of their initial meeting taking flight, it was time she return to her roots and embraced the ways of their old world. The weak did not survive for a reason, whether it be by fate or another. To survive, one must prove themselves.
She wondered as she journeyed, how long it would be until they would be tested once more. Their entire childhood had been proving themselves time after time and yet, Moladion had offered them a sudden reprieve from such a thing. Even Elesor and Zaqar had been allowed to live their first year without a physical test and she wondered... would she so be frowned upon if she requested her upcoming hoard to experience what she did? What they all did? Had they not been sent to exterminate the Angels because of their particular talents? Did these talents not go to waste so suddenly? She wondered about many things as she crept through the moors, wondering whether she should bring such thoughts to the attention of Ishtar or simply keep them to herself. Perhaps she was alone with her thoughts. Perhaps the others were content with their new way of life. Lillith, at times, was not. Paldor had stopped her from gutting the male Rayn, a male who had strutted into Iromar with little concern or respect for those that outranked him. Was that the norm these days? Perhaps Ishtar was not aware of the blatant disrespect that had begun to seep in from the world around them... perhaps when she returned, she would finally bring back Hell with her.
She had wondered since the moon had been at its highest point and now she watched as the sun began to rise, casting the afterglow of fall over the landscape. She had paused atop one of the few flat stones, watching the land illuminate and yet, she could not help but feel as if she had not been completely alone in the darkness. It is then that she casts her gaze upstream and sees him - he is a monster reminiscent of Andras and Baphomet, sprawled out by the riverside and seemingly unaware of her presence... for now at least. For some moments, she simply watched him, deciphering the Marks that found their way over his pelt. They were Marks she had not seen since Hell and yet, they were familiar, though not because she knew the male. In Hell, she knew few by name, only by their position in the grande hierarchy. This male, even she knew, was above her.
It is then that she crawled from her stone outpost, sinking back down into the tall grass as she began her approach. He was some ten feet or so away before she made her presence known - in the world of Demons, she figured the sound of her claws scraping dully across the stone shoreline was enough to do so. It was there, too, that she stopped to watch him once more, her body rigged and tall. She wore her rank in the arch of her tail, her head tilted slightly before she addressed the male.
"From Hell?"
It was all she asked - her voice quiet, and yet she was all too eager to hear such an answer. She had met two others in the past season - Vera and Haedes - though they had apparently assimilated into Iromar quite fast. This male, though... he seemed different.
all who go to her cannot return and find again the paths of life |
