King of Blood

Chapter 9 - Jehovah

Jehovah approached the front door of his apartment, the familiar creak of the old wood welcoming him back, a melancholic embrace that made him feel at ease amid the chaos of his existence. The day had been long and gruelling, fraught with the usual trials and tribulations that accompanied his weighty role of trying to find the Black Knight—again, he came home empty-handed.

As he entered, the scent of sweet confections wafted through the air, wrapping around him like a comforting shawl. The cozy living room beckoned, drawing him toward Issiah, his best friend and the only person with whom he could truly be himself. There, Issiah lounged comfortably on the sofa, a scene of chaos surrounding him, with colourful wrappers strewn across the coffee table like confetti after some vibrant celebration. His expression spoke of sheer bliss, mouth full of candy, eyes twinkling with mischief. He was the very picture of nonchalance. His vivid green skin shimmered like emeralds beneath the ambient light, his very being a reminder of the lush foliage of the forest from which he hailed. Low sunlight danced through the nearby window, casting playful patterns on his vibrant complexion, accentuating the unique beauty of his kind.

His limbs were long and toned, visually striking in their harmony with his stature, standing at an impressively tall height, his arms and legs sported delicate, vine-like tattoos that appeared to be creeping up from his fingers and toes, intertwining as if nature had painted him to mirror the very greenery surrounding him. Each gentle movement synchronized perfectly with the natural rustle of leaves, a rhythm both calming and rhythmic.

The pixie's most captivating feature was his dreadlocks, cascading down his back like a waterfall of wild vines, thick and textured. The tresses shifted in shades from deep mossy greens to sunlit limes. The dreads framed his angular face, which featured high cheekbones and an inviting smile that revealed sharp-ish, pearly white teeth. His large, almond-shaped eyes sparkled like dew-kissed leaves, a striking shade of jade, filled with mischief and a hint of nostalgia for adventures past.

He lounged back against the plush cushions of the sofa, stretching one leg across the armrest in a posture so relaxed it suggested a life lived in utter comfort – as if that couldn't be further from the truth. One arm was draped casually above his head, while the other rested on his slender belly, fingers idly twirling a strand of hair. His expression was a blend of relaxation and curiosity, softly bemused by the strange world around him.

Dressed in earthy-toned clothing he wore a loose vest that hugged his shoulders comfortably, the back adorned with intricate patterns that mimicked the motifs found in nature. Below, light breeches fell to his ankles, edging into sharp, leafy patterns that seamlessly transitioned into his exposed green skin. His feet were bare that hinted at both agility and grace.

As he lounged, he hummed a soft tune, a melody that seemed to blend with the rustling of the wind outside, inviting a sense of peace within the room. Perhaps it was a serenade for memories of days spent traversing through the woodlands or perhaps an ode to the beauty of the mundane—each note floated lightly in the air like a drifting feather, embodying the very essence of the pixie's carefree spirit.

"Ah, the sweet aroma of irresponsibility! You know," Jehovah began, a teasing lilt dancing across his voice as he rolled his eyes, "that human stuff will kill you in excess. You should really watch what you eat."

Issiah glanced up from his treasure trove of confections, a mischievous grin illuminating his face as he popped another piece of candy into his mouth, his vibrant spirit undiminished. "You worry too much, Jehovah. A little indulgence never hurt anyone. Besides, your false face makes me uncomfortable enough. I need something to calm my nerves." He waved an empty candy wrapper dramatically.

Jehovah chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, then, it's a good thing we're friends. Food-induced comas qualify as a safe outing."

With graceful ease, Jehovah removed the mask that concealed his true identity, the artful glamour shattering like glass. His features were strikingly different beneath it—sharp, ethereal, and undeniably otherworldly. The transformation was a ritual he enacted daily, a necessary barrier between the majestic awe he often inspired and the reality of who he really was.