After Eden [Book #1 of The Fall Trilogy]

Eight ☾ ☽ Hide Your Fires

"Stars, hide your fires; let not light see my black and deep desire." - William Shakespeare

Eight ☾ ☽ Hide Your Fires

Three men garbed in long, fine tunics, trimmed with elegant silk, rambled down a beaten, gravel path. The three men, so similar in appearance that they had to be brothers, were also clad in loose fitting trousers, laced with criss-crossing leather, and sandals strapped to their feet and swords to their sides. All three conversed quietly among themselves as the sun, now merely a golden spot in the horizon, dipped past the hills, ready to retire for the night. The sky was painted in strips of reds and oranges as the trio approached a divergence in the road. They halted, dust kicking up at their feet, as they took in the sight before them.

At the crossroads, a wilted weeping willow tree grazed, branches so low that they dusted the green Earth. Rooted to the ground in front of the willow, stood a dark figure arrayed in black, heavy robes from head to toe, not even revealing its face. Only a lone, pale finger beckoned them closer.

"I have never seen such a creature," the youngest spoke, his voice holding a slight tremor to it.

"Don't be fearful, Truvor. We are still in our land; no one would dare harm us where we reign," the oldest spoke comfortingly, glancing shakily towards the louche figure.

"But, Rurik," the other spoke,"I don't believe this is any one we have come across. It does not look of this world; almost like one of those beasts from mother's stories."

Rurik slapped his brother on his back, mouth twisting into a smile. "Mother's stories is simply lore, Sineus. We have nothing to fear; we shall see what the strange man wants, and then we will be on our way."

Sineus and Truvor's manner still seemed unsure, but they reluctantly nodded and heeded their eldest brother's request. The sun had now sunk lower, only the faintest tips slipping past the horizon. A chill had descended, so thick it might have been choking. Rurik buckled up to the creature boldly, chest out and chin held high. Despite his audacious demeanor, the uneasiness in his eyes told the truth of his feelings.

"Good evening, sir," he articulated. "Is there any problem?"

The frigid air was now heavier than before, fog escaping from Rurik's mouth along with his words. Truvor shifted uncomfortably from behind his brother as a pregnant pause stretched for a second too long before the creature finally voiced himself.

"Rus," it echoed, voice deep and petrifying. "I've been studying you three for quite a time now, and I usually don't waste my time with petty humans, but something held my interest."

Rurik had stumbled back, no longer sure in himself as the figure said the name of their old Vangarnian tribe, Rus. He glanced at Sineus, who was also stunned at the unusual words. Rurik swallowed.

"We do not understand."

The figure cocked its head, eyes falling on Rurik's hand, clutched tightly to his sword. "Ah, that's what it was," it remembered.

The figure pulled back the hood of its cloak, revealing the handsome face of a young man and horns curling from the mop of black hair. "Even now when you are weak, their is blood lust in your eyes."

"Who are you?" Truvor inquires.

The man's dark eyes flutter past Rurik's shoulder, setting his intense gaze on the younger. His full lips twist cruelly into a grin. "How nice of you to ask. I go by many names. Some call me the 'Destroyer', others 'Night's Lover'. However, you may call me Mephistopheles."