Lonan was sitting behind him, in a pool of blood, he was singing happily, one huge bone in each hands, it could have been femur for all Yue knew. He was looking insane, splashing the already coagulating surface of the blood with the bones. He had blood leaking from his lips as if he had been devouring the flesh of the demon to whom the bones had belonged. It was a disgusting spectacle. Yue had thought that Lonan was just a normal kid, happy to see magic tricks, who would love to eat ice cream in summer and to make sand castle on the beach but now he realized something disturbing. Despite his young body and mind, there was something inside of his that was terrible old and dangerous. Something that he had already felt in a different way inside of him, something he had fought with at time but Lonan, just like Torsti was letting himself been controlled by the god-like power inside of him.
“Maybe I shouldn’t have redecorate that much”, he finally said getting up.
“Why? Don’t you like the new aspect.” Torsti said.
“It’s not so bad but it was too easy and now I’m bored and tired. I should have kept some for later”, Lonan answered.
Blood was leaking from his clothes taint in red. He was still playing with the bones, making shapes in the pool of blood which was almost reaching his ankles.
“Can we go home now? I don’t like it much here anyway, it’s kind of cold and I want to see the sky and fly”, he continued.
“We’ll go very soon”, Odeon answered putting his hand on his shoulder. He had the feeling that he shouldn’t have come here in the first place. The hunters had been looking for him and his brothers all along, his parents had died protecting them from the hunters and now that they had became god and that the powers had awoken in the three of them, he had thought that the best thing to do was to stop hiding and to fight back. He wanted them dead, all of them with their upside down Christian cross bleeding on their dark black robes. He wanted to make sure that there would be no more useless death around him, like his parents had suffered but now he could see the result. Most of the demons who had come to them were dead, the hunter had won, those demons and him were alike, they had come for their own purpose, for power, for revenge and now they were dead and he and his brothers were responsible for that, for letting the hunter win, for letting their long time enemy get the upper hand again. He looked for Davon, wanting an explanation of what was going on but Kael and Davon were both dead. They must have fought each other until their last breath. It was expected to be easy for Kael to kill Davon, after all, he was supposed to awake while Davon was only here to look for the potential gods and bring them to the hunters. His chance to understand what had just happened had died with Davon. Once in the battle, he had only thought about himself and his brothers of their own survival, now that he could see the big picture more clearly he was in rage. He walked to the hand of the room, near the door, avoiding the fight still ongoing in some part of the cave and stopped near Davon. He was dead and cold already. It seemed that he had been struggling all along to take Kael in death with him. His hands were still clenched around the other demons broken neck. Odeon would never had imagine that Davon might have so much strength. His side had been pierced by a large piece of stone sharp like a blade. It was Kael’s god power, the power of transformation of the rocks, he would have been an invaluable ally in this cave against the hunters but now it was too late, he was dead. Odeon was angry as he had never been since the death of his parents. At that time, he had just taken his younger brother away. Lonan was only four years old and he was crying like a baby, unable to control himself, unable to protect himself. He was clinching at their mum and liking the blood on her cheek. That was the day he had started to love the taste of blood. It had been hard for Odeon to take him away from her, he was kicking and biting and punching him all he could with his little fists. It was the night he had sworn to bring the hunters to their downfall. He stood up feeling the rage run in his veins as if he had became anger itself he looked at the ceiling and yelled like a lion in pain still ready to go to war. The fighter around him stopped to look at him, his voice was filling up the room.
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