When they had come forth to that world, they hadn't expected what had been thrusted upon them. What they had been expecting hadn't been that great anyway in spite of it wasn't the best in the world even in the brightest of scenarios, but this? Not even the one that called themselves their 'father' oh so long ago couldn't have foreseen this. If they had, rather than trying to contain her, they would've just lead to her with whatever she had been plotting, knowing fully well what fate had seated that bright light in the sea of darkness that he called home.
That morning star, seemingly gone from memory, had never before wavered the option of leaving in a act of surrender, and yet they had. It stayed in their mind, however. And with a bit of persuasion of someone beyond, (they had met before, a long, long time ago) they had a way of entering that strange, yet similar world.
The red rusted grounds of the land beyond had given them an idea of what was to come. The steps of their footsteps across red blood soaked crossroads had become somewhat of a staple of what the world was.
People yelling and snapping their heads at them as they walked by. Strange silk masks caressing some of the residents faces, all adorned with a similar eye-like symbol. People laughing at everything smiles all round'.
And yet, it felt wrong.
As if this wasn't the ideal state of it. Almost a warped state of what was most likely something completely different than what was being shown.
That damn eye, high above the skies, dripping from the clouds above had made parting difficult. The sun like itself, instead of radiantly shining against a day lit sky, it was drooping over a death ridden hellscape. And yet even so with the unsightly appearance of the large thing, it had been called the moon. The sun, gone, seemingly, missing to who knows where, and as this world would like to suggest, dead as a forgotten God. What they had perhaps hoped would've happened before to them, were long gone. Have they been killed? Or perhaps forgotten by the mortals of this world too? It didn't seem that way. They hoped it hadn't been that way, for all they had argued, this hadn't been what they had deserved. This, if it had been what they thought, wasn't how a goddess nor god should die, nor should anyone for the matter.
A shack in the distance gave way to an explanation though, as they had made their way into the way of a rather large castle, remote with only the remnants of what it used to be, despite seemingly being well occupied and used, as seen from the people exiting and coming inside of its walls. Dead eyed citizens, smiling at the dead, eroding flowers dyed red with what only a sane being could only hope was powder.
The shack of sorts was small compared to the castle, of course. With shakily scared words labed prisoner, it was easily lead to the imagination that someone whom had knowledge for the lands had been sentenced there. Someone perhaps that would have known the reason for this places current state of being, what this world could have been and how it had came to this?
With the confidence of a lone god, (which they were) they opened the door, seemingly unlocked, a handle forced with looked to be long hints of it being worn with use turning with it. The door opened with a creek of old and worn floorboards that underneath the new and old building, both a constant. What they saw was a grim sight indeed, though with the barred walls covering the right side of a closed off section of a jail cell. Other people aside themself as a man clad in a pitch red suit made small talk with the tiny woman besides him.
Crimson eyes met the very void that settled within the old god, and all light, that somehow was there, left his eyes in a matter of moments. Still, he kept on. Nudging the woman beside himself that it was time to leave. Though with a twitch of her tongue, and some horse words that they'd rather not repeat, they left the prisoner behind, leaving what that the God assumed a man in their wake. Albeit a man in horrible condition, but still, a man no matter how many bruises and scars they carried across their face and torso, to their legs and feet, scattered with blood crusting and yet oozing out of him slowly yet painfully. The man, albeit not similar in any way, reminded them of someone. That someone now long dead, yes, though looking at the man's eyes, that could be farther from the truth. A flame, a spark, something that wasn't oh so horribly found to be fake resided in them. Though, yet a glossy finish had incased them, looking through the man before himself as if he were not even there.
Their mind comes easily to the gods frame of mind. It's clear in the sense that the man has repeatedly told himself this in a mantra. Again and again, his mind raced this very phrase.
I will not waver.
I will not let them win.
I will not break.
Again and again, his mind went on and on. He wouldn't let them win? That…
The man had a realization right then and there.
This man... was like himself. Old and worn, yet only staying for the rest of everyone, yet unlike himself, he had gotten the sense that the others occupants were long dead.
He raised his hand hard, and knocked across the bars with a force that could wake even the most bed ridden child. The man raised his head up, gone from the trance that invaded his mind, not like infection, but a corruption of worth. Eyes widening they did not make a move, aside from the shackles crossing paths with the floor from slight shivering, the jarring cracks of it the only noise.
"You."
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It's the eeennd!!! Hope this was a good read! See you next time with another chapter of (Hopefully) Hold still! This isn't canon to this, btw. Just a little au-bending of it.
