[img]http://th08.deviantart.net/fs71/PRE/f/2013/176/1/d/ultra_violet_by_tylercreatesworlds-d6aox7o.jpg[/img]

All things as it was,
And all things they were.
Floating in the void.
The elder eye Unblinking.

"As it shall be, Creator. All petals will wilt and the fruit be bitten. The seeds passed. One Cycle ends as a New Chapter Begins. A New Book to be written by whom?"

So with this did X leave the presence of the One to rejoin the other Gods. A champion perhaps he would need, one to gather up the secrets of the universe and return them to him. For surely the Fallen will attempt to use knowledge once more to kill the Gods. As a pawn to the forces which were. He had always suspected they existed, the whispers of the unmade, the horrors which should not be. They were written in his book, and upon the house at the Edge, dead elders wait dreaming. The black moths have found his book and already began their exploration into its secrets. The most interesting of all the forbidden books... But for now he shall wait for a worthy prayer, a mortal who would devote themselves to learning the secrets and keeping the mysteries of the universe.

---

"Is that all there is?" A ravenous voice rang out. 

A massacre remained of the small town, as the warm bodies littered the streets. Faces frozen in terror and shock, fleeing in panic. Necks slashed, bloody bodies bore brutal bruises and flesh cut to bleed out. Nothing was spared, no mercy was given: Men, Women, Children, and Animals. Everything joined the blood bath as their corpses soaked the wet earth. Unsettling, but peaceful as the quiet red death. And so it was, like a plague, moving from Hamlet to Village, the picturesque horror as stones were wet with blood. Only to be dried by the time a traveler could report the sudden destruction of an entire town. And by that time, another settlement was offered to Sekaulla.

Atop his pile of bodies, the guardsmen and local magistrate among them, did Dyleon sit upon the macabre seat. He licked the blood off his lips, the lack of a manic smile or clear evidence of insanity made the act that much more unsettling as the man just slaughtered the entire town without a second thought. No, his madness was devotion, a tribute to his Goddess, a field of fallen corpses and the blood tithe to follow.

"For you Sekaulla. My Goddess, my love..." Dyleon kneel before his companion, a large bloody dire wolf. To which from Dearg he received a few encouraging licks to his blood-covered face. A taste of tang and salt, bathed in the blood of many a fallen.

The blood covered the warrior's body, his armor, his weapons, slick with the fluid of life as he soaked it in and exchanged old blood for new. Open wounds sealed with drying blood, flesh regeneration boosted by the ample about of blood-food available from the eradiation of this village. So the cycle would continue on, just as those mortals would place their offerings to gain the favour of the gods...

So too would Dyleon offer blood for his Goddess.