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Heaven, The Void, And ConsumptionOthers-- a rare number of souls who’s fate is tied directly to the Nexus-- know of another alternative to such haphazard and unreliable methods. The Amber Express. Only those that are bound to Khazan in one way or another know of the Amber Express' existence. When they wish to travel to Khazan, they find upon their person-- in their billfold, purse, coat pocket, etc.-- a ticket. The ticket tells them where the Express will be appearing next, at what time, and where the person will be seated upon the Express. How this happens is of little consequence. The Amber Express knows, and that is all that matters, since the Express is as much an elemental force as fire, water, or life itself-- a constant that one can rely upon no matter the condition of the universe that it serves. The Amber Express knows your destiny. She merely takes you to destiny's door. The man to the left wore an Armani suit. Quite conservative, yet something about the man's presence betrayed such a stance. Flair and grace seemed to resonate from within the traditional appearance. His shoes, though, exhibited none of the poise that the rest of his being demonstrated. In fact, one's eyes would merely glide over them if one didn't make a concentrated effort to examine them. Such is their purpose, in fact. Their simplicity is at once beguiling and forgettable. Simple stitching, not a hint of extravagance or personality. They were a gift upon his graduation from school many years ago. Specially tailored, these shoes serve one purpose. Their design is intended to divert the eye away from the feet. Their simplicity makes the eyes-- and the mind-- forget that they are even present, making the vigilant eye unable to anticipate footwork while in the heat of battle. A simple tactic, but the simple tactics are often the ones overlooked. Not in the case of this man. The man on the right wore a suit of undetermined design. The inauspicious design seems to make it all the more impressive though, adding a hint of mystique when in the presence of those that have an eye for fashion. To feel the very fabric of the suit is to encounter a texture just as mysterious as the brand. Delightfully soft-- almost disturbingly soft-- light to the touch-- not unlike a feather. Yes, a feather. The feathers of a fallen angel in fact. Each fiber from its wings were plucked as the angel writhed in agony, the fibers woven together into a cloth as pitch as night and as comforting as a mother's embrace. The angel was hand-picked from the legions of Hell. Tales of her beauty had reached the ears of the man who now wears her pride and joy. He hunted her with the same vigilance he uses on all of his prey, and killed her with the same cold pleasure, but her death not only furthered his cause, but made him all the more attractive in the eyes of the mortal world. The woman to this man's left furthers his outwardly appearance. Her beauty seems almost as soft and light as the man's suit, and rightly so, for upon her back, tucked back in a resting position, are two angelic wings. The whiteness of her wings almost blends in with the pale color of her skin, as her skin shares the same pure hue of her wings. Even her hair was only a few shades of darkness off of her deathly complexion and ivory wings. Her beauty was muted, though, by that which she wore. A simple lavender sweater and a long black pleated skirt covered the rest of her frame. Next to the two men seated in the car, her manner of dress almost seemed inappropriate due to its plainness. The only outstanding thing about her appearance was the unusual necklace that hung tightly around her neck. For the most part it was a simple leather strap, save for the ornaments in the front and the back. In the front was a small red gem which was embedded into the collar. The gem had a faint glow about it, a glow that was nigh invisible in the lighted cabin. On the back of the necklace was a single loop made of a polished metal. The loop hung down, the edge of it touching the back of her neck. The three had been silent for the first hour of their voyage. The angel never lifted her eyes from their downward gaze, as if she were bowing in servitude to some unseen force. The man at her side shuffled through some books that were within his attaché case, seeming to read through various passages of well-worn books. The man opposing the angel's apparent companion sat in quiet contemplation, his eyes closed most of the time, only opening them every few minutes to give the others in the cabin a quick gaze before returning to his apparent meditation. The silence was broken at last when the angel raised her eyes from her position of reverence, and looked across at the man seated across from her companion. "Heaven or Hell awaits the mortal soul, each eager to take in the soul for its deserved destiny. The Void... it awaits the soul that wishes pure destruction. It has no compassion, and it has no hatred." Her eyes fixated themselves on the man, who was still in an apparent trance. "I see your soul. It has already been devoured by The Void. Yet you live on. You are an abomination upon creation." "I thank you for your kind words, madam." the man replied, still keeping his eyes closed. The angel lowered her gaze again, this time closing her eyes. "Few revel in that manner. Why do you revel in your damnation beyond damnation?" "Because he is the Dark Dancer." the angels companion interjected as he closed his briefcase. "The one that dances with the Void willingly. One of the few mortals that has accepted their true fate. Devyn Soyokaze." "I am flattered to know that someone remembers me-- someone that does not wish to see me dead, that is. A true rarity these days, to find someone that knows my face that does not wish to see it send back to the Void." "You did a brilliant job of disappearing, when was that, over a year ago? Glide in, and glide out. True style." the man extended his hand to Devyn, "Hijima. Aluko Hijima." "The Yakuza Hijima family?" "Formerly, yes. I have since retired after discovering more amusing venues." Aluko glanced over at his companion. The angel responded by lowering her eyes further in reverence. "Oh? So are you the one that they speak of? The one that has been hunting the children of..." "He is." The angel again lifted her eyes and fixed them on Devyn. "But what do you care of our kind? What do you care of the ascended and the fallen? You choose to abandon the cycle of life." "Everyone has their own path." Devyn responded with the utmost respect. "I chose my path many years ago. A dear friend of mine helped me along that path. She always insisted that I find "The Dance of Ages." She insisted that I peruse ancient tombs. I was never one to look upon a book for more than five minutes. But the way she spoke of my destiny, it was as if she truly knew what I was supposed to be-- as if she knew that which I did not know about my very being-- and that she was truly concerned. So I opened my first ancient text, and my destiny was sealed. But that is only my destiny, but I cannot be blamed for wishing to show others the blissful nothingness that I enjoy, can I? Your Creator desires evangelism, does He fear such things from others?" The angel rose from her seat. Her eyes no longer showing grace and peace-- now only filled with an eyre that lusted for death. She raised her hands into an arcane position, her fingers poised to render some spell. Aluko, with swift motion, grabbed the ring on the back of the angel's necklace and violently tugged it back, sending the angel reeling back to her former seat. She made no move again, and returned her eyes again to their former position. "Angels. They just don't know their place." Aluko smirked in Devyn's direction as he loosened his grip from the metal ring. Devyn smiled in turn. "Yes, but at least she possesses passion. Rebellion is far more preferable to utter devotion, or so I have been told. Such passion is what I lack. I only possess total servitude to my own destiny." "The world needs its preservers, and the world needs its usurpers. You preserve that which most wish to be vanquished. I usurp that which most wish to see remain in place." "Indeed, my friend. Indeed." Devyn closed his eyes again, returning to his former state of meditating-- meditating upon the Void. Aluko opened his attaché case, continuing his studies. And the angel slowly returned her eyes to Devyn, her mind swarming with thoughts of his destruction, yet in awe of his serenity-- a serenity she had only seen in those ascended to the circles of Heaven. The Amber Express continued to creak, slowing its speed for the next stop on its passage to Khazan... |
