DALIA, the secretary of the Moon Goddess, is met by the deity's most troubled victim; the first and only lycanthrope. In a violent heist, the lycan abducts the loyal secretary as leverage.
Two figures from different worlds are forced to revaluate t...
'Who he was, and what he was, were shrouded behind his reticence, that veneer, the only answer available to plague me; who it was he wished to kill.'
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When I awoke, I was distraught and utterly alone, deprived of my nemesis company. Where was my welcoming host? On this small plain, his presence could not be felt, a disappearing mystery. It was singularly me in the company of the early songbirds.
He was not gone in spirit I'm afraid, his haughty face proactively breeding turmoil in the crevices of my mind, blighting every seam.
I looked on around me in wonder, feeling the warmth of the sun console so deep past my skin and into the soul, and the slender green raised over me an amenity. Here, the wounds of even the heart could not resist repair. How could such a dreamscape have been woven from the deadly fingers of that menace?
I didn't know what to make of my bittersweet captivity. Dima would surely come for me, track the Beast down and administer the most gruesome of punishments, but even this hope I dreaded, because it was exactly what he wanted. What he was eagerly waiting for, the perfectly crafted opportunity to sever her godly head. I should've known better than to naively believe he wielded the ability to kill, even harm, her, yet the image of his head turned toward me, harnessing the winds into submission brutalized my security. He was far from human, standing resolute and divine far past that station.
My intuition cautioned to me a whisper; not to guard her from this would be the ultimate betrayal.
If it was written in Dima's pride to come, I would have to intervene before that time came to pass. I couldn't imagine a single way I could stand against that Beast. The atmosphere acknowledged him as a vessel of power almost like a god when he moved, I could feel it in the rampant electricity.
But engraved in his body was the answer I knew to keep, the dishonor haunting his neck like a vengeful phantom.
Live to see the enactment of his plan, he would not. Nonetheless, my future held no day where it was in me to harm another. I was no murderer nor reaper. For the sake of the Moon, my most beloved companion and creator, it seemed my soul would be the price. I knew it when the Beast had uttered that curse to me, it tore like a knife through me, massacring atom after atom in the valley where my insides wept out. Further still, I am carved. I could see his lifeless eyes boring into me, not quite dead, but far past alive.
The action was simple, except wholly unperformable. In one way or the other, I had to hinder him.
I stood up and stretched my arms out, hearing the crack of a few joints. Recalling the sound of his footsteps wandering behind me, I turned in what I approximated to be the direction. I needed to find the Beast.
When I turned I saw a relatively modest villa in the distance, the only building this pocket realm seemed to contain. From what I could tell it was cured in fawn clay with wide, high arched windows. A very open abode, I was shocked I hadn't caught sight of it in the early stages of my "escape." Although, the rise of my blood pressure could've been the culprit for my obliviousness. Calm, was as far a description as one could get. Still, I was burdened by frantic, anxious pain.
