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There was a craving, a stirring, a yearning for his might and prowess to be utilized for something chaotic, a maelstrom, a storm, a tempest brooding and brewing across his heart; better, bigger, braver than the ridiculous disturbance nestled beneath his chin. It was merely to reverse the asp enchantments – nothing to puncture, nothing to ruin, nothing to be gained except the removal of a nuisance. “I wish it was for something far greater or grander.” Then he shrugged, knowing full well it was partly out of vanity, but another portion hated, loathed, and was disturbed by the entire bramble of snakes coiled along his muzzle because it reminded him so eerily of his failures. It was one more memory in a series of moments where he’d been overpowered by shadows, by demons, by haunting, poignant beasts who’d known exactly where to hit, where to scald, where to harpoon – he’d been weak, he’d been foolish, he’d been stupid and vulnerable. It wouldn’t happen again. At her laugh though, for it was wonderful to actually hear amusement and exuberance in the hollows of mist and misfortune, he arched his brow and restored his zealous grin. “But I can’t stand this hissing beard.”
She fumbled thereafter, in a series of torrential, concerning coughs, and for a few moments he thought she might cease breathing altogether (and then where would he be – delivered right back into failure because he couldn’t save her for the fifteenth time in this sadistic world?). But the bold mare, because that’s how she’d always been and he could count on her for trying at the very least, resumed, explained, as if nothing had happened at all. His gaze sharpened, narrowed, but he gave away naught else – didn’t ask or pry where he truly wanted to. The inquiries still reeled, still bit away at pieces of him, still roamed across his meticulous skull, his polished machinations: Are you sure you should be out here? What happened to you? There was the constant, aching plunge resounding within his confines too, a coiled mass of serpent regrets. I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.
I can’t save anyone.
On her last voiced thought, he paused, and stared across the vast mist, the swirling labyrinth, the confines always so littered with the unknown. Couldn’t they have one moment that wasn’t seething with disaster? Couldn’t there be one time in their constant fight for survival where they could breathe? The notion was maddening, caused him to tighten his jaw, for the smile to disappear, collapse into the folds of his contempt. “Could we be so lucky?” Bitterness, rancor, clawed its way through his mouth, along his tongue, and he didn’t care any longer, for she’d understand, she’d know why this damned earth had claimed his hostility, his acrimony, his avaricious, savage loathing –
Then the whispers started. You, they resounded and reverberated, a hollow, beckoning sound, tarnished by ominous, siren exploits. You’ve come. Erebos almost laughed, following after their streamlined allure, merely walking with his head held high and his ravenous nature igniting as far as the eye could see – keeping pace so he didn’t leave Kiada behind, so each one of their flames could follow after the another, an inferno, a blaze, a kindled mass of ambition and pride. “Do you hear that?” He whispered, turned his head back to stare directly at her, piercing gaze composed with an uncanny, eerie wickedness, ready to surge, ready to fight, ready to lance and lacerate. Then he regained his focus on the foggy pathway, on the swirls of treachery, wandering closer and closer to disaster and ruin. So I have, he answered them back amongst the irreverence carved amidst his frame, eager for the slaughter: he enjoyed vengeance too.
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Green Labyrinth
