Vermilion

Prologue

He was not one of them. And no amount of existence would make him one of them-- even if he spent it with them. He should be staying where he belongs, with his kind whom he shared the same variety of being.

But as he ran across the dark dead land with all his might, he pondered on the betrayal he just did few breaths ago against his fellows.

What he committed was not--- and would never be --- for his gain nor would it harm his outraged pursuers and other quiet beings. But passivity to the vile and dreadful scheme would do the latter the harm and gain for their part, which he should be contented.

Inexplicably, as the plot was contrived, the presaged outcomes repulsed him. He tried to avert the anger and helped thwarting the Deep guardians. Arduous and suicidal it had been, they overcame the guardians and had the possessions of the Book of Laws. But triumph never came in him. As he had recalled the look in the guardians' eyes and the dark liquid that had splattered his cloak, face, his chain-connected sword and hand scythe, it evoked wrath against himself. It piqued something deep within him.

Given the chance, he would not give in to the clamor for his agreement. If he had known that killing a fellow being was necessary, he had opposed it earlier. They should not have been to that point of no return.

Halfway to his destination, the anticipated proximity of his pursuers disconcerted him.

He knew that Pelferous, the one who devised the scheme, was so infuriated that his glowering could have burnt him if he had not fled swiftly. Sorcrux, on the other hand, followed Pelferous. On his own, he had no chance of defeating Pelferous. Coupled with Sorcrux, he would certainly turn into ashes against them so he had no choice but to rely on his speed --- a useful faculty if one wanted to pursue his eternity.

"Equetaph!"

The angry wail pierced his ears, have shaken his senses, and appalled him. He glanced over his shoulder.

In the moonlight, Pelferous' huge scythe curved above him and the lengthy razor-sharp blade gleamed menacingly. Sorcrux's twin-headed axe propped on his shoulder, amply positioned for a swift cross slash. Clearly, he could not par with them.

Tightening his hold on the Book of Laws in his hand, he forced himself to cut through the wind, thus he disappeared from their sight. As he landed his feet on the ash and dust ground again, he deduced that the seemingly interminable chase ceased. However, his diligence could not falter as long as he was in the life-forsaken land. He could not trust himself on anything, lest he reach his destination. After all, he could not believe he had put himself in peril for the sake of another race --- a kind that he could bear to see suffer and perish like that of the Deep guardians.

Equetaph was half-relieved as he stood by the edge of the chasm. Until now, he could not perceive the coven's proximity. It puzzled him why would the erratic Pelferous halt from hunting him. He could have expected less from Sorcrux, but Pelferous, who was always agog to have his plans done immediately, would not --- lest he thought of another way to turn him down.

Judging from Pelferous' character, an endless pursuit is to be expected. No matter where he goes, they would trace him until the Book of Laws was returned to their possession and he was ashes.

After recounting the circumstance that proved how odious and eager Pelferous was, he squared his shoulders then looked down on the dark depth. A faint silvery light was on the very bottom. There it was. His destination.

He drew out his fist which had the Book of Laws. Unfolding his hand, he gazed down on it. His jaws clenched then closed his hand and hid it back in his cloak.

Equetaph jumped off.

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