Cassius stood amidst a field of millions upon millions of roses. They spread out as far as the eye could see, kissing each horizon. The vast, never-ending ocean of blood-red petals swayed and wafted in the breeze; Some of their crimson life fluttered away and wafted off into the eternity of the glistening night sky.
The wind's chilling bite gnawed at Cassius' collar, eating away at his will. Cassius rubbed his hands together and wandered aimlessly amidst the rolling valleys of bushes, their thick thons cutting deep and unyieldingly through his heavy denim trousers.
They clawed and bayed at him, berating Cassius for his failures and condemning him for his inability to save his wife. His only companion was the warmth of his rancid breath on his palms.
Far off in the distance, Cassius’ eye was drawn to a tree, a lone speck insulting the serenity of the innumerable roses. Its gnarled surface was clear as day despite the distance. A clawing call dug itself into his mind and heart, giving him purpose and bestowing upon him a goal.
Reach me.
A goal that Cassius took to heart. Shifting his meandering gate from nothingness to the ethereal unknowable call, Cassius set off on a journey that grew longer with each step.
The roses screamed at him, calling for him to abate his change. But Cassius did not listen to the cacophony of voices; the demonic cries of the roses did not slow him at all. He took one step after another, ignoring the deep gashes the knife-like thorns carved into his flesh.
Fluttering wings of crows aloft on the frigid breeze drew his attention. They flew high over Cassius, circling high above him like a carrion waiting to be taken by the world's scavengers. Betwixed their caws and clicks, Cassius heard an oh-so-familiar song.
In the cherubic sounds of his late wife, the crows begged him onward and urged him to reach the oak. To some unseen power, to something Cassius knew in his soul would mend his fractured heart.
A bidding Cassius gleefully followed.
The crows dived deeper and deeper around him until their fluttering wings batted frigid air against his skin, splitting it open, His warm blood flowing down his face. They danced around Cassius like gothic angels, calling out for him in his late wife's voice.
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They dove and parted the ocean of red before him, clearing a path for him to the gnarled bark.
As Cassius neared the tree, the crows landed amidst the branches—Looking akin to black leaves coating its otherwise bare canopy.
The tree grew in size and grandeur. Slowly at first, but it quickly escalated until its surface covered the entire vista of the stars above.
A bright flash of purple light shined from the oak's surface, burning away the bark to reveal a strange symbol—a series of twelve points evenly spaced within a circle. The flames danced and fluttered, forming coiling branches arching between the points. Multitudes of connecting straight and rounded burns weaved in and out of one another, creating an intricate blooming flower that burned as brightly as the sun itself.
Nestled in the center of the flower was a slit formed of the bark; it quivered in anticipation for Cassius’ arrival and his caress.
Looking at the flaming mark hurt Cassius, making his head throb, yet he could not look away. It enraptured him.
He stepped closer, and with each footfall, the crows overhead beat their wings. Their drumming grew in intensity as Cassius closed the gap between him and the symbol. The Corvus band's volume rose to a level no man had ever known, drowning the world in their zeal.
Cassius placed his hand upon the glowing symbol, yet it did not burn. The flames arced outwards, climbing the tree faster than a bullet.
The moment Cassius brushed the symbol, the slit in the center opened. The groaning of the oak sounded, joining the beating drums symphony. Staring back at Cassius was a singular eye as large as his head. The eye was the most beautiful thing Cassius had ever seen.
The eye’s sclera was as black as coal and just as dull. Captured inside the ocean of darkness was a bright ring of glowing lavender. Tucked lovingly in its center was a bright, shining, blood-red pupil. It stared through his soul, judging him like a judge to a condemned man. The all-seeing eye carefully observed every one of Cassius’ sins, regrets, sorrows, blisses, and boons.
“There you are,” the crows cawed from overhead.
As the crows finished their statement, they beat their wings faster and faster. Until it became a singular droning whine, causing Cassius to grip at his head in pain—the pressure of the sound caused his legs to give way and buckle.
Cassius screamed as he fell into the ocean of roses.
He rolled and writhed in pain as he looked skyward. The tree overhead was burning in a blazing inferno. Dull ash rained down upon Cassius as he struggled to breathe. The last thing Cassius saw before darkness overtook him was the crows colliding and morphing into a singular black form.
A true Gothic angel floated gracefully down from the heavens above him. The ash flowed around her as if it was afraid to besmudge her eldritch grace. She held a crystalline hand out to Cassius as darkness entirely overtook him.