Silence flooded the thick atmosphere only the Lord of flies felt comfortable in, his thin black tresses fell evenly on his face. His head lowered, and then his mouth finally opened to speak. 〝 I’m not accustomed. By now, you’d be dead. Forgive me, ereshkigal. 〞
〝 Where there is order. There is the consumption, by its very nature, is the herald of chaos. And where there is life, there is inevitable decay. These are not mere antitheses, they are the threads of life. Wouldn’t you agree, ❪𝖗eader❫ ? 〞
〝 It is my sincerest 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘦𝘴.. I was not what you were expecting. 〞 Wearing deceit as second skin, his presence curdled the air. Not with marinated malice, but a honeyed falsehood that invites trust even as it 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬 out.
It’s embered glow providing warmth upon them both. Yet the flames, as if bound by reverence, parted when in her presence. Leaving her untouched amidst the infernal glow.
〝 Yes .. may your 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹 satisfy my hunger, with your infinite love. 〞 As he advanced, a corona of flames coiled around his being. Living fire that bent and breathed with his steps. His staff, crowned with a weathered skull, swept through the air with grace.