Morningstar

[CH. 0029] - The Tear Lake

The abyss gazes, I gaze back 

A finite hole, a hole so dark 

No light escapes, no light comes in 

A creature that has no kin

And so I look, a pitiful glance 

I see myself, man with no face 

But I'm not that, how could I be? 

For by my side I have a tree

It's flowers bloom, they shower me 

A love so kind, its purity 

From there the seeds, they sprout anew 

They grow and spread, by the wind blew

And I look up, the blue, blue sky 

To follow their path I try

But I digress, they're on their way 

By another's side, ready to lay

And there there is, another man 

At the abyss, his dead eyes fell 

And there a tree, it sprout anew 

And like before, it's flowers grew

- by FabioKun

The scent of warm blood and sweat clung to the air, intertwining with the earthy aroma of the forest. The Hallow veered to the right, following its intuition and the faint trail of scent, until it reached the forest's edge. There he was—Baal—perched on a branch like some night owl observing its prey.

"I'm disappointed," Baal's voice dripped with mockery as he swung his legs casually from his elevated seat. "I thought you'd be quicker."

The Hallow rolled its eyes. "You're hiding up there like a scared kitten. And you're disappointed in me, little devil? I was under the impression you'd be a bit more proactive, considering what's at stake. After all, you care for this vessel... very much so."

His eyes locked onto it. "I made a promise, and I'll keep it." In one fluid movement, Baal leapt from the tree, landing on top of her and sending her sprawling to the ground. He straddled her, his hands locking onto her wrists. "Nord! Where are you? Come on, Morningstar, show yourself! You got this! Remember..."

"Your arrogance is going to be your undoing, you hornless demon." The Hallow's voice was laced with venom. With a quick, calculated jerk of its body, their positions reversed—Baal found himself lying on the forest floor. He barely had time to react, using his legs to kick it square in the chest and propel it away from him.

For a heartbeat, he was torn: to run or to fight? The Hallow was already back on its feet, Nord's silhouette visible through the dim forest light, its posture predatory. The Hallow charged.

And in that instant, Baal knew. He bolted, running as if the hounds of hell were on his heels. Because, in a way, they were.

Baal's legs churned through the underbrush. His eyes fixed on the glimmering surface of the lake up ahead. Just a bit more, he thought, panting. Don't look back. But the cacophony of crushed leaves and snapped twigs pulled his attention rearward.