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p - mel
It was time. Several years had passed, sixty long months since the visionary had fallen: a wise woman by the name of Thavardo, murdered by the hands of an alpha with fiery red eyes. His name was long forgotten, but those blood-colored orbs were engraved in the back of her mind. He had ruthlessly destroyed everything they'd worked for. The devil, that's who he was! He'd taken away the prodigal son, consequently ruining their master plan. The dark age began shortly after (just like the wise woman had predicted): people died, fires burned, diseases resurfaced. Those calamities could've been avoided, if only Azathoth had been able to rid the world of filth.
A vague aura of superiority engulfed her mind and soul. She'd seen the burnt remains of Bleeding Souls and couldn't help but feel satisfaction. It's inhabitants had been punished for their sins. Lillith knew it was only the beginning. What she'd failed to realize until now was that it was her duty to finish what the cult had started. Ahren's too, if he chose to fulfill his role as the chosen one. A part of her hoped he would, but she wasn't foolish enough to believe so. He'd strayed from his duties early on in life, from the moment he first took up residence in Inferni. The Stormbringer femme hadn't seen her former playmate in far too long. She had no idea what he'd become. Her goal was to find out.
The coyote clan had survived the fire. Aquamarine occuli swept over the area, lingering over the sticks and skulls for a brief moment. Not much had changed, it seemed. Wolf and coyote rivalry was still in vigor. Lillith was smart enough not to trespass, judging it wiser to stay on the safe side. The invisible boundaries were respected, but she was still ridiculously close to Inferni territory. Bending the rules had always been her forte. Besides, she wasn't doing anything wrong. Just snooping around.
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[html] | http://i692.photobucket.com/albums/vv28 ... Part12.png); background-position:bottom; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> For nearly a month, a fire had been burning.
Gabriel de le Poer, as his father had believed, had fire in his heart. It had perhaps existed since his birth, or perhaps since the madman with the crooked jaw. Perhaps since a woman spoke to him of divine prophecy, or was cut down by another stranger with a mad face, or since the vision of the dead woman. There had been a specific point, this he knew, but he could no longer remember when or how it had occurred. He knew God’s Voice, and knew His Will. The first fire had changed him ultimately—he had barely recognized himself afterwards. Even his fur had darkened. He no longer looked like a coyote, as he had as a child.
Amber eyes trailed the length of the border, and settled on an unfamiliar form. The dark wolf was unfamiliar, but it did not perturb him. He felt no threat; though for what reason, exactly, he could not name. So he approached with an easy walk, four legs following one another patiently. He stopped just inside of the marked territory, and regarded the stranger. “Yes?” Calm; detached. His scars and eyes betrayed him; for whatever else he was, Gabriel was burnt by the wages of his holy war.
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The ashen femme did not immediately turn to face the man. Instead, she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. His scent, there was something strangely … refreshing about it. She did not know him, of course. But there was a special aura radiating from his body. She could feel it. There was no animosity in his tone of voice, either. The multi-colored male was willing to answer whatever questions she had, and Lillith planned on taking advantage of that opportunity. Dark eyelids gradually re-opened, revealing two malachite orbs. That’s when she first saw him. Eyes of pure citrine, multiple scars reflecting tales of blind devotion, and that star on his right shoulder… she’d seen it before. She’d definitely seen him before. In her dreams, more than likely.
“I am looking for the chosen one,” she stated firmly. Mentioning his name hadn’t even crossed her mind. She was testing the waters, attempting to see if he was worthy of her trust. Not many people were. Lillith had always been cautious of whom she confided in. She had every reason to be.
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[html] | http://i692.photobucket.com/albums/vv28 ... Part12.png); background-position:bottom; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> There was something very curious as to how she presented herself. She was not afraid of him, and indeed, did not seem afraid of the place she was in. A holy madness lurked in her vision and he was certain she knew of prophecy—not his own, of course, but of such a thing none the less. She knew and she believed ultimately. Her eyes were like his, if only blinded by a false god. For this reason alone, he would hold council with her.
Her voice triggered something. Gabriel heard his father’s voice, though it was indistinct and muffled. He heard Ahren’s laughter and knew, quite suddenly, that this woman was bound to him. “And what if I told you the prophet was dead?” This was not to say he considered his father a prophet—indeed, he did not. Still, there was no denying that the man had been able to see things he should not have known.
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His words reverberated in the back of her mind. Dead; Ahren de le Poer was dead. Her face showed no emotions, not even sadness. Feelings were being restrained; succumbing to them was not an option. There was a deafening silence, and then she heard something; a light buzzing sound in her right ear. It amplified exponentially, turning into high-pitched wails. Her mind grew rampant; voices from the abyss were calling out to her, mourning the downfall of an important man. A glint of distress flared in her apple-hued eyes, if only for a few seconds.
One more soul had departed, leaving her behind in a realm of insanity. Lillith Stormbringer clenched her jaw while her mind processed the information. Both disappointment and anger bubbled inside of her. How dare he leave without her consent? Her gaze shifted back to her interlocutor, the man who had all the answers. “How?” That’s all she wanted to know for the time being. She could only hope his death had been spectacular; a grand finale that would do him justice.
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[html] | http://i692.photobucket.com/albums/vv28 ... Part12.png); background-position:bottom; background-repeat: no-repeat;"> He saw that subtle change; it was as sudden and as violent as a summer storm. It left her as suddenly as it had come, and Gabriel knew then he had been correct in his assumption. The charm around his neck, the third and the one which his father had never been seen without, caught the light. One eye shut against the glare, but the other remained focused intently on the dark woman. She was not a threat, but he did not trust her. He did not trust any who had seen the face or heard the word of a false god. Samael had done so, and Samael had been driven mad by it.
How had his father died? By route of his madness. By destroying his own world and not once giving through to the consequence. By laughing and tearing down all that he had come to build. By the disease that had destroyed one pack and by the desire to see the world burn.
“By fire,” was all Gabriel said.
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His answer wasn’t as detailed as she’d hoped it would be. It, however, was enough to fuel Lillith’s imagination. She envisioned the Lake of Fire; a place where Sinners were meant to go after the Final Judgment; a prison for the dead, the ultimate punishment. And in the middle of it all, she saw him amongst liars, murderers and whoremongers. Unlike them though, his body wasn’t being consumed by brimstone and flames. He was reigning over a new empire, like the king he truly was. They would meet again in another life, she knew that much; part of that throne was rightfully hers.
Just thinking about it sent shivers up her spine. Ahren de le Poer had been hers since the beginning of time. She wanted him even more now; even in death. Had they buried him? The man deserved his very own sepulcher, at the very least. Her lips spread into a graceless smirk as her attention returned to the man standing before her. Blue-green orbs were locked onto the charm around his neck; there was a longing in her eyes. “You remind me of him. What’s your name?” She knew by now that he was, in fact, Ahren's successor.
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She recognized the symbol. She knew what it meant in a way that Gabriel did not. His eyes narrowed slightly, but he remained still. Through her eyes he saw fire, and he saw madness. The woman was exactly the same as his father; or, at least, his father as he had last known him. “Gabriel. Gabriel de le Poer,” he replied. It perturbed him, in some way, to know that there were things about his father he had not understood and never expected to see.
“Who are you?” the Aquila asked, and found that the tone in his voice was…wrong. He sounded as if he was speaking to a phantom, something he did not understand. Perhaps it was appropriate, but it felt out of place coming from his lips.
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Gabriel de le Poer; his name was music to her ears. The messenger of God. She couldn’t help but wonder if Ahren had been the one to name him as a child. “Meus angelus,” she hissed through her teeth, choosing to baptize him as such. She would give him the world on a platter, if he wished it so. Thavardo’s legacy was kept alive through the blood flowing in his veins, and Lillith had plans for the boy. She would attain supremacy through him, something the visionary hadn’t succeeded in doing with her son.
Who was she? Oh, the Stormbringer femme was many things. For one, she should’ve been his mother. It was unwise to mention such a thing though, for she did not know how highly he thought of Kaena. Her apprehension was kept under check for the time being. “I am the woman who came before Eve, often known as Lillitû in archaic mythology,” she paused, searching for a hint of recognition in his eyes of gold. "But you may call me Lillith." Surnames meant nothing to her, hence why she didn’t disclose any additional information. She did not belong to the Stormbringer family.
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There was a whisper, a hushed praise, a sound that made his ears perk and twitch. She knew him, as she had known his father. All too suddenly the doubt that had always been with him rose; what had Ahren meant, truly, when he spoke of his mother? What was this woman to him? These thoughts and more began to fly through his head, and like dark clouds, passed over his eyes and made them cruel.
Appropriate. Everything was remarkably appropriate. The situation was not lost on him, and Gabriel’s mouth opened just slightly. It was neither a smile nor a grin; and indeed, neither a grimace either. His teeth, slowly yellowing with age, flashed in the light as he found his voice. “Why are you here?”
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His question was like a slap across the face, and her eyes momentarily lit aflame. She simply could not provide an answer; that alone drove her wild with anger. Said anger was not directed at the Aquila, but mostly at herself for not knowing the solution to his equation. It would eventually come to her, she knew. But for the time being, Lillith was at a loss of words. Her thoughts revolved around the messenger, and what he meant to her. It was too early to decide how big of an impact he’d have on her life, but she was willing to give him a chance.
“To finish what he started,” she replied flatly, surprising herself. That answer, it wasn’t hers. But it had slipped out of her maw nonetheless. Someone was breathing down her neck, and that entity had taken the opportunity to express itself. Who was it? The visionary? No. The entity was male. She could feel it in her gut. Whoever it was, the ashen femme openly embraced his presence. Her mind was racing, but her face remained placid. Two malachite orbs simply stared ahead, not really looking at anything or anyone in particular.
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He saw the change; a brutal and sudden one that reminded him of his father. She heard the voice of something or someone. A false god, a demon, this he knew in truth. Something was terribly wrong with her. All of Gabriel’s instincts were warning him of this, and yet he did not run. Lillith was all too familiar because she was like his father. Perhaps that was why, despite everything he felt, Gabriel did not move. She had potential, as his father had.
She would destroy herself the same way. It was neither parent whispering in his ears now, but Gabriel heard a voice and he knew what had to be done. “And he gathered them together into a place called in the Hebrew tongue Armageddon,” the Aquila spoke, his voice that of a preacher, a general, a man who had set the world to burn. He said nothing more. If she was, as he suspected, not uncommon to his father, those words would mean something.
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"Blessed is the one who reads the words of this prophecy, and blessed are those who hear it and take to heart what is written in it, because the time is near," she immediately countered, her voice firm and unwavering. The Book of Revelations was engraved in the back of her mind. Life itself was cluster of enigmas, one giant cryptogram, and that book was the answer to everything. She’d been taught how to read for one specific reason; to assimilate and use John’s writings to her advantage. While she didn’t particularly believe in any religion, the Apocalypse was very real to her. The visionary’s teachings had revolved around the final judgment and what could be done to achieve salvation.
Gabriel had already proved himself. He was one in a million, just like his father had been. It suddenly became painfully obvious that she didn’t know the Aquila, or what he believed in. Were they meant to be allies or enemies? She wanted to idolize him and make him her new Ahren. It was too early to tell if such a thing was possible though. “I plan on sticking around,” she said pointedly, searching his face for a reaction. Her statement was in fact an invitation. She would take up residence close to Inferni, somewhere in the Dampwoods. And then maybe, just maybe, he’d seek her out like she hoped he would.
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She knew proverb, but so had many. Gabriel’s eyes remained cold. The same voice was speaking to him now, the one he would never question nor refuse to obey. He listened. He listened with silent stillness, and he heard what he had been granted to hear. Slowly, a thin smile crossed over his face, one that refused to meet the terrible shadow in his eyes. “I’d like that,” he replied, though gave her no further ground. From here on out, he would need to bide his time. All things would come to pass; Gabriel de le Poer knew his destiny quite well.
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You can archive this m'love. :3 Other thread soon, ja? We need to plot something out.
The younger boy fascinated her, thrilled her, and kept her entranced. The aura of mystery around him never ceased to amaze her. Reading people’s minds had always been an easy task for the madwoman; however, trying to do so with the Aquila was futile. He was obviously skilled at hiding his thoughts and feelings. It was unbelievably frustrating. Although he’d shown no signs of animosity, the dark femme felt indirectly threatened by the coldness in his eyes. He was an unpredictable man.
Dismissing all negative thoughts, Lillith chose to embrace the moment and take his reply as a compliment. Whether he was being truthful or not was a different story, but she believed him nonetheless. “Very well. I’ll see you around, Gabriel.” Soon. Very soon. That being said, the teal-eyed girl turned on her heels and walked away, headed for the Dampwoods. She needed some time to digest the news.
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