Voracious winds would lacerate their melancholy extremities across the tranquil atmosphere, a pair of eyes open to a blinding light, ears to the wind howling betwixt coarse terrain. The sanguine odour of blood would taint the once green grass of the land. The sun writhing across the horizon, leaving its wake in shades of red and gold, a vast expanse enveloping the skies above the seemingly ceaseless stretch of earthen mass. Dismantled corpses of fallen warriors would lay scattered across the structure, the shattered ruins of armour and weapons would hang over the landscape.

War had ravaged this land, like a stigma on the face of the earth. The malevolent stench of death would swiftly crawl across the topography, gently brushed along by the violent gales. Placid, elusive footsteps would agitate the blood that covered this horrendous abnormality of hellion with each footstep, corpulent squelches resolving beneath robust feet as they tread upon this stretch of tainted pasture.

A pair of eyes would gaze upon the sinister plane of decay, the marching and manifesting darkness would shroud the divergent hue of the scorned sun. Vermillion optics, the eyes of a man that were once golden with the onset of life, now tainted with an evil so fowl, that Satan itself would reject its breath. An ebony cloche would caress the form of the large figure as it paced upon the ground ever so gently. The black cloche would oscillate in the chilling breeze that beckoned it forth, chanting its foreboding song.

“The voices in my head…They screech like lives to my audition…”

A single whisper would drift throughout the terrain, a mere conjecture that would cut through the silence like a knife, cutting its way through the illusion of clarity, it rests within the envelope of a false sanctuary. Out of the darkness, out of the declining currents that constantly shredded through the blackness of the skies, now shrouded by darkness ever so fowl, it draws nigh.

A thick haze of quickly coagulating fog would soon stain the surface of this once sanctified plane, now vilified with the livid nightmare through the world of the living, one now tainted with the onset of Ragnarok, a realm deprived of life. The eerie fog would blanket the stretch of hellish land, cursed it was, for no sentiment of serenity would perch itself atop this backdrop of inky gloom.

Disturbed by a thin ringing--a shriek carried over the wind for a great distance. With the cry of this far-off beast comes widespread conflagration, igniting the scarce organic life within its reach. A curious notion would guide the head of the hooded figure, looking in the direction of which the sanguine voice echoed, accompanied by a cloaked equestrian riding a dark, alar creature of which draws nigh.

Thus, it breathes darkness into the earth, and from the earth does more darkness rise. Swarming, convulsing... compulsory projection. They sink within the earth and diffuse into shadows. Growing ever larger as the sun bears down from above, amassing and encircling, their eyes an aureate virus, descending upon those who obtrude their domain.

Finally the beast descends, the hooded being dismounts as it looks upon the cloaked figure standing before it. Within the void of its eye sockets, a glow from deep inside would extrude a purple mist. Dark auras would dance around this figure like flames to a candle, gentle lacerating around its armoured form as it looks upon the one whom entered its territory, it then spoke.

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“Who dares set foot on my domain, only those who dare to tread upon this soil wish to meet their foul end…”

A single notion guided the cloaked figures hand, pulling off the hood to reveal its face. The man looked upon the dark figure, not a single hint of emotion ran across his pale lips. His vermillion eyes gazing at the large sword of which it held within its metal claw-like hands. The males golden hair would rustle gently in the breeze, indolently hanging over his eyes as he spoke in a subtle, yet gentle tone. The male looked only the age of seventeen, a youthful man, one that had rose through the ranks of the Royal Guard at such a young age, and now is widely known across the kingdom.

“I am Sir Aeacus, the holy knight of Avalon, and who may you be?”

“You wish to know my name?...I am the monarch of the forsaken kingdom, the god of Nazgûl’s…I am Susano’O” The being replied, its voice bloodcurdling, sadistic.

“Were you the one who cut these men down? Were you the one who ended their lives?” Aeacus replied, slowly moving his other hand from his cloche to reveal a golden blade from within.

“Indeed I was, they foolishly treaded upon my land, I merely guided them to their demise, they came in search for eternal life...Only those whom hold a pure heart may be blessed with the gift of eternal life…But do you truly seek such a trivial thing? You will only bring yourself to ruin” The one that was referred to as Susano’O responded.

“It is not I who searches for immortality…The king has fallen violently ill, and thus he searches for eternal life, so that his reign shall never end…I shall be the one who delivers it to him” Aeacus spoke softly as he slowly drew his golden blade, the cloche that covered him would soon slip off his form, revealing his immaculate suit of armour, raising his blade at the being before him as it extrudes a blinding light.

“Even if I have to slay you to obtain it, I shall”

A loud bellow would echo across the terrain as the dark figure would raise its blade as well, a sadistic laugh would howl through the plane, slowly pointing the barbed blade at the holy knight the being adorn in ebony armour would speak yet again. “You wish to slay me? How comical, if you so wish to gain immortality, I shall give it to you. But at a price”

“In exchange for my power, you will sign your life to me, and I shall grant you immortality…You, a hero of light looks passed the darkness within, yet you seek perfection…To obtain such a thing you must first find true balance, without darkness, you will never achieve you goals…I will become that darkness…”

Raising an eyebrow Aeacus would look at the dark being, wondering why it would so easily grant him such an impossible wish. “You give me power in exchange for my life? No…I will not make a deal with the devil, I know the consequences.”

“You don’t have a choice now…I have made up my mind” The being spoke, slowly dismantling into thin air, only to appear before Aeacus, its sword driven through his chest as its dark auras begin to flow into him, tainting the once pure heart into a pit of chaos. And thus, Aeacus fell into a deep slumber.

“Now I am here, my waltz of decaying divesting your mortal body, my hands clasping your life and absorbing your pulse”