Monarch of Darkness, Arsene

684 Lilith Snow - Rebirth

Position over the bed, in a gorgeous suite the Knights of Luna had granted me, I laid in the lotus position. My thoughts were unfocused over the laps of time slipping away, followed by the unsettling tremors traveling through the planet's crust, sinking cities, mountain ranges, and sacred landmarks all around Enrilia. Not even Corsem was untouched by the devastation taking place near the temple.

Arsene was safe, I was sure. He was inheriting the power of Tenebrae. Despite the five years of silence. I could still feel his soul growing weak, then firm in quick repetition.

Opening my eyes, I stretched my arms far and wide, falling backward over the mattress calling for Sene and me. A sigh left my lips. There were only a few more years left until those of the Exalted Wheel shall be torn from their homes and banished to the Abyss.

Fixing my gaze over the graceful moon, the flicker of multicolored light seemed to whip past the arcs of the moon. Each day Arsene was slowly beginning to gain followers. No one knew his name, but that did not stop the denizens around Enrilia from finding their fate. Pilgrimages were the talk of the town. Everywhere I went, I would hear tales of the coming king under the government's watchful eye. They were waiting for Arsene to appear and take his rightful place on the throne.

"Lilith," Sera snapped, "How are we to get out of here? Should we not be helping Arsene?"

"To do what exactly," I said, pondering why the Knights of Luna saw to give us a shared room while Richter received his own. It was a bit presumptuous. "Arsene is safe; as for the war outside, what can you do?"

"I'm an Elder God and an Angel," Sera said pridefully, intertwining her arms around each other. "I can do much."

Stail air left my lips, "You lack the Laws of Concordance. What the Hell can you do to make a difference. Relax, have a cup of tea, and find yourself a man, maybe a woman. Everything is under control." Waving my hands lazily, I fell back onto the mattress and gestured, "Come have a seat."

Seraphina's celestial glow seemed to wane. The pride stretched over her aura had slowly withered as the words had left my lips one after another, till her head hung low. She bit her lips and peered up, drawing a bit close, where she slowly made her way onto the bed. Still, a bit far from me, she stared.

"I'm confused," She said. My lips puckered, and I allowed her to continue. "Arsene Snow confuses me. Do you think he is evil?"

"One hundred percent," I answered immediately. There was no mincing my words. Arsene was downright evil, to a certain degree, in that he falls short in ambition. He wishes for nothing. Not generally like most cultivators.

"And you don't mind that he is such a monster? That he can kill pretty much anything and still be unfeely. Does that not scare you?" Sera said, tightening the grip through crinkled sheets. "He caused the death of my brothers, they weren't perfect, but they were my family. Could he not just have explained his circumstance, could he—"

"Why? If you Angels were not simply out for blood, none of this would have happened. Had you chosen peace that is written in the tattered remains of the Law of Concordance, none of this would have happened.

Her shoulders trembled, and I could feel the anger, the painful heartbreak, rippling from her soul, affecting those around her.

"I–"

Snapping my fingers, one of the Pale Gates Held within Noctem heeded my call and tore through the darkness, settling near my bedside.

"Come on, let's have a look to see if she has awoken," I said, having heard enough. I could not help Sera, and I honestly didn't want to. What could I do if a person is so enclosed in their own belief that the truth blinds them?

Placing my fingers over the frame of the Pale Gate, I opened my palms to Seraphina, whose countenance trembled before the familiar gate. She reached for my hand, only to pull her fingers back in retreat with a bit of hesitation before a hint of resolution gleamed. She took hold of my hand, and a blinding flare of Abyssal Qi embraced us.

Standing within the Grand Halls of Death, that now held candles fixed upon walls, while antique paintings I had not seen laid still over the walls expanding the air of grace now held in this Labyrinth. Below the portraits of paintings of all kinds stood some of the finest fixtures of furniture, alongside an elegant decanter for those who took pleasure in wines.

"This is new," I said, taken back by the extravagant change. A little unsure what had happened, my gaze landed over the empty halls in hopes of finding someone. But there was none to be found.

"So this is the Pale Gate." Said Sera, ogling the various paintings depicting me, cities held around the Abyss, and much more. "It's far different than I would have imagined. I'm not an abyssal walker, so I never explored the Abyss."

Taking her hands while she mindless looked around like a star-struck child, I held the image of Arkanos in my mind and placed myself there. Appearing in a room of absolute darkness, with scarlet runes glowing a sinister light, I noticed Sera's cheeks turn pale. She stood still, almost as if seized by a strong force.

Death had said this place was strong with my original body's presence, but I couldn't feel anything. Resting my gaze upon the small egg that could fit a small child, my mind trailed back to that day I merged my intent into the Abyss. That day I had heard Arkanos's cries for mercy, here wimps of for her farther. I had heard it all. But I was powerless to do anything. I had tried to affix myself to the Abyss once again. But the connection was not as strong as before.

"Sera, this is my little adoptive daughter, Arsene and I share," I said, rather reminiscently of those days. Passing over the smooth black surface of the shell, oozing a profound amount of abyssal Qi, a tinge touched upon my heart. It was warm as if calling to me in a plead of desperation. I knelt down, opening my hands without another thought, taking the small dragon egg into my embrace.

Closing my eyes for god knows how long, a low teary voice, scarred and wounded, reached into my ears.

"Mommy,"

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