Tyaag

४

The tenebrosity of the moonless night fell on its knees in front of him.

The ether grieved for the crescent moon.

The stars yearned for the pearly incandescence that was no longer to be found in the darkness that spread like a tapestry beneath his feet.

In the dead of night, shadows curled under the tresses of his hair like a raven awaiting dawn with furled wings.

Many labels were bestowed upon his personage.

Lord of darkness. King of the abyss. Ruler of night kissed shadows.

The one capable of disemboguing ruination with a mere caress of his scythe.

Vikram wore those titles like gems on his crown.

He took pleasure in being the subject of those anecdotes of dread which were narrated by trembling lips in the form of dyspneic soliloquies and half dead whispers.

He would listen to their forlorn songs and think of them as hymns born out of earnest devotion.

The wailing echoes of faraway land that he had tainted with his poison veined hands were nothing but lullabies to his ears.

Traditionally, they would lull him into a deep slumber but lately his nights were troubled. 

Not because he was plagued by dread of any kind but because his lust for blood could finally be quenched. He had been waiting for so long and now finally, he was so close. 

He could almost taste the warm sanguine fluid in his ravenous mouth, feel it overflowing from the rift between his plump lips, see it falling on the ground like scarlet hued raindrops. 

He had given the ignorant emperor what had been asked from him and in return, he was going to receive all that was necessary for him, if he wished to achieve what he desired.

Tonight, he waited patiently for the sweet relief the whispering shadows that pirouetted on his finger tips would bring him.

As he stood staring at the heavens long abandoned by gods, the creature of the night orbited around him, perhaps finding solace in the void that he carried in his obsidian eyes.

He liked to observe the feisty creature in his leisure time and the more he looked at her, the more he understood that in many ways, she was just like him.

They were both nocturnal beasts, a prey to be hunted by all that was luminous and burned bright.

Perhaps, at first it may have been it's aversion to light that ushered the nightly being closer to the brute king.

But as her night time visits stretched to weeks and then months, not even the wisest of men could fathom how a creature whose very nature demanded her to live a lonesome life had decided to break out of her mould.

More importantly, why?

Why would a creature who was as boundless as the sky itself, willingly put rein on her wings?

Perhaps, there was a tether between them, one that tied her plumage to the talons of the reaper of souls himself, making them one and the same. 

Perhaps, that is why even after spending her nocturnal hours feasting upon parasitic vermin, her capacious mouth still yearned for blood.

Just like him, whose bloodied claws ached to tear apart more flesh off of broken bones.

Apart from the birdsong that the creature sang to entice the young king, there was only unimpaired silence that surrounded them, as if the winds had decided not to disturb the melody of the enchantress and simply listen with keen ears.