Words… Memories… Visions… Sympathies. My remedies. Erebus was no stranger to loneliness and in a way, he almost felt like it was the source for his angers. His rage. Was he disgruntled because he had nothing? That might be accurate. A sad life, but it was force fed to him. In fact the lycan knew little before he saw the world in all his colors.
Everything was so black and white prior to Grimoire Heart. Nothing seemed like it mattered at first, but nowadays? Everything was different. Life and death rules-- Crowley’s rules-- kept the young man in his place. The boy pushed his way onto the empty beach side. His attire consisted of dark jeans, a v-neck, a wool coat, and boots. His long dark hair had grown out over his eyes, and his eye color was a sharp red. Turning amber only to resonate that he was a beast on the inside. A renowned killer and obstruct being.
Water flows, blood flows.
A brown strap was loosely kep around the torso, held together by a buckle, the strap was like a belt. Holstering a huge, bandaged sword. It hummed as it slowly sucked life from its bearer, to sate it’s magical desire. The sword was named Samehada, Erebus had checked on the myths surrounding the sword after walking into a blacksmith’s shop to have it checked. The weapon was a living entity, a treasure of this world. Bandages were used to keep Samehada ‘asleep’ for the most part. If not, it would begin to suck the life out of him quite rapidly.
That was his uniform signature trait. The monstrous hulking sword at his back. Other key traits were dwarfed by a weapon of such massive destruction. It was a monster, much like Erebus himself. The boy’s lips pursed. a breeze picked up, rattling his unzipped coat. The beaches were getting colder at the approach of autumn. Soon, the water would be an icy memory of what it once was.
For now, it was just a chilly moat, a home for the fish. Erebus tucked his freezing hands to his pocket holes. Inhaling the salty, oceanic air. His identity as Strategist, would be waiting there in case anyone of note appeared. Simply because no one knew Erebus. It was Strategist here and everywhere. That was a law in the guild. To abandon your past life. It didn't seem so hard when done the first time. Now it was more like selling your soul to the devil, in the adventurer's eyes. But what can you do?
Erebus was ten meters from the waves splashing at the shore. And twenty five meters from the grass on the opposing side. The beach was void of life, the exception being himself. Time was mid-day. The sun kissing the rear of the clouds overhead. A beautiful baby blue sky was the setting stage. The area is eerie, quiet as a mouse. Erebus let his heart slow. It beat softly.
Options. Choices. Pathways.
Everything comes with a chance of conflict. There was a fine line between manipulating said conflict and learning from it. Or being overcome by the sensitivity. Taking things to heart-- ultimately led to loss. Erebus remembered being taught that when he was younger. Ironically by a teacher he stopped showing up to see. Oh well… It didn't matter. Erebus came to the beach on a whim. He did not expect conflict, but he did feel as if he was going to have some kind of it in his life today. Otherwise, he still managed to evade it by showing up to an empty beach.
You know how it goes. Nothing is etched in stone. To say it was, well, that was a fool’s hope. Destiny is what you make it. Not a gamble of faith or heritage-- all of that was a fluke. Anything can happen, always. To take opportunity and make it a positive experience. That's what separated the wise from foolish. At least, that's what they say.
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