An Exchange [#1] [Pact to Akezo]

[Frostdrop1 1843]

 

An Exchange

[A pact with Akezo, through the lesser ‘Great Beast’ Teuzauhtototl]
 

Down…

 

Down…

 

Down…

 

…

There existed no space between the realms; no true upright or downright, or leftway or rightway. And yet, there came an undeniable knowledge of downness which was ever-present in the cascading litany of lights - no - windows. Windows into spaces carved out by entities beyond mortal machinations, those of which clambered to grasp power in the very fabric of reality. A squabbling din of greatness were those entities of the beyond, spatting like petulant children. Nevertheless, it was here he chose to be. 

 

Bullish and obstinate, the devil had long held a desire to be

 

else.

 

Demon. Monster. Spawn of Iblees.

 

Else.

 

Never was he one to bend to the will of others; never was he one to lay and die; never was he one to let invading judgement sway his path. No, only his own impossibly oxen mind did that: once shattered, now laying in tentatively repaired segments.

 

He was determined, even in his fragile state, to be else.

 

Heavily did he land in a familiar realm to a familiar sight: a vibrant jungle, its ground laden in sprawling ferns and alien flowers - there climbed the trees so impossibly tall, yet they had grown all the same. All was cascaded in a gentle dark, for the night sky had fallen and within its embrace lay the gleam of a thousand-million stars - or perhaps in such a realm they were something else.

 

There would be no wait this time. Affixed on the visitors to its realm were two sordid, red pin-prick eyes. Each was an intense spot of ragged interest, looming in the umbra as does a hungry wolf. Awfully daunting did the devil find them for such little things. And then, they were gone.

 

There came a shift, then a pressure upon his right shoulder as the beast landed, and grasped with a possessive inclination. There was no discernible difference between the dark and the beast, seeming to almost appear as one. Once more was that burning gaze burrowing into Reinhard: close, intense, consuming.

 

KRUM THRAK’ALT.

 

The call of The New Moon seemed to shake the very fabric of the realm, and so too did it rattle the very foundations of that soul-marred devil. A rippling intimidation tore at his being. Danger. And yet, he stood firm. He willed himself present, and willed himself speak, yet all that could be said was:

 

“Akh.”

 

An amused chuckle reverberated in his ear.

 

TETLAGTOA KHARAHATLA, TEHMATI NACAYOTL?

 

Little did the devil understand the tongue that the Great Beast took to, though it rested in his mind with greater comfort. Stalling in hesitancy, his voice clamoured for perch - more stable and more assured in his assumed reply. An unearned air of pride followed him as his chin tilted up.

 

“Er - no. Common.”

 

COMMON, THEN. ONCE AGAIN, CURSED THING, YOU ARE BACK. I HOPE THIS TIME YOUR FAITH IS STRONGER?

 

A willful, stubborn insistence filled the devil at such an address.

 

“Reinhard is the name I go by. I return with a greater assurance of Faith. This remains, as before, an exchange.”

 

REINHARD.

 

The beast rolled his name on its tongue, almost as if tasting something new for the first time. In all truth, perhaps it truly for that jungle-realm belonged to its reality.

 

AN EXCHANGE THEN. YOU WISH FOR MY BLESSING - BUT TELL ME OF THIS FAITH WITHIN YOU. OF YOUR PASSION.

The devil’s hands raised: his marred soul a patchwork of infernal curse and the descendent that lay beneath. He was a walking testament to the vile ways in which he was treated, bringing the sight of reason not only upon his physical flesh but upon the very nature of his being.

 

“There are many who detest my existence; many who would suspect me of crimes through nothing more than their ignorance. This, I would turn into a symbol of worship and dedicate my body as artistry to your craft. Healing is that which I wish to bring over the lands, and as I wander those lands it is your name that deserves to be spread for such works.”

His speech was followed by silence, until the Great Beast loomed closer, before its red eyes drew back and peered down from above. Once more did its voice fill its domain.

 

YOU SPEAK GREAT PLATITUDES. I AM WILLING TO GRANT YOU MY POWER:

YOU WILL HEAL

 

YOU WILL BRING WORD OF MY FAITH TO THOSE IN YOUR CARE

 

YOU WILL WORSHIP ME

 

 I WILL BE THE MEANS TO FULFIL YOUR PASSION

 

With that, the blackened night-sky drew away - for the prospective pactee was not enveloped by night but rather the great, unfathomable wings of the beast itself.

Awake.

 

A pact was born; an exchange made.