Belonging to Darkness

20 years previous-In oblivion. . .

The hooded figure stood amongst the full blood moon. The moon haze lit up the air around his dark aura. He stood still, squaring his broad shoulders, clenching the muscles that were underneath his clad leathers. Holding his ground. He looked as menacing as the grim reaper, and Squall couldn't help but feel a little shiver run up his spin as he walked closer.

Squall appeared at his side and they stood together, facing one another in the cold stone room. Chills racked the air, swirling around the large room until finally fading down into a light cool breeze. Neither of them said anything at first, so Squall decided to look around the room his old friend picked for the meeting. It looked haunted, deathly even, dark Pillars lined the walls and they raised up high, their tips just barely brushing the ceiling. They made this room feel like a prison. Many times before, executioners used this room to torture and punish their men. This was the punishment room, a favourite of Squall's friend, and he wondered why he chose this room in particular to meet at.

Squall gulped and looked to the far side of the room, the equipment was all there, just teasing Squall and making him feel fear for the first time in a while. Lined on the wooden tables were whips and lashes, knives of all sorts. While the heavy equipment was off to the far side, devices used to hold men or creatures alike still, for the executioners to have their way with the trouble makers. But it wasn't the case today, well Squall hoped.

"This is your last chance, Squall." His old friend spat out, while he brought both of his calloused hands up, and looked to the gruesome red sky. And turned his dark and brooding stare onto Squall.

Squall trembled slightly under his blank stare. With uneasiness, he cleared his throat and bowed to the man in black, "I am sorry I disappointed you. My deepest sorrow, Sire."

"Sire?" The man in black leather drawled while bending over and picked up Squall from the floor, wrapping both of his hands around the collar of his shirt. He looked at him through his now bright blue eyes. They were emotionless. Cold and Empty. "That's a new word for you, ain't it? I much prefer you address me by my actually name, Squall. I am not a king nor a god, so I do not wish for you to treat me like one."

For a brief moment , Squall closed his eyes. Drifting into a disoriented state, he used the formal words to attempt to make the situation better not worse. He no longer felt safe around his friend, he felt the draw of his power in his stance and words. "My apologies, Karantoes. I did not mean to offend, I was only trying to address the situation formally."

With a brutal force, Karantoes unlatched his hand from Squall's shirt, and dropped his body with a thud to the stone floor.

"Formally?" Karantoes mocked.

Squall reached with his hands to try and balance himself, propping himself upright. He used all of his strength to try and make himself stand face-to-face with Karantoes. And after a few lazy tries he managed to do that and meet his tall height of 6'9", feebly.

"For many centuries, you have been by my side, Squall, acting as my guardian. You are my best fighter by far, and my best friend. But what you have done...The penalty you have crossed deserves death, but I can't bring myself to carry out that act." With a slow stride, he strolled over to Squall.

His stance was menacing and dripping with power. A large hand was placed over Squalls broad chest. The man closed his eyes, making Squall feel all his sorrow leaking into his soul.

Karantoes reached back behind himself and lifted his hooded black veil from his face, revealing himself. The man had utterly handsome features, with intense black eyes that seemed to swirl into a cyclone when he laughed, or turn bright blue when he felt intense anger.