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Felspar Tera'le

0 · 766 views · located in True Cross Academy, Fidel City

a character in “Equipoise”, originally authored by Ellipsis of Gothique, as played by RolePlayGateway

So begins...

Felspar Tera'le's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cerbin "Cerberus" Hiberion Character Portrait: Ryuu Shosuke Character Portrait: Bavol Character Portrait: Satan Azrael Character Portrait: Nathaniel K Jenova Character Portrait: Salem Aritos
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Alright my dears the story has begun!! Please go to this link before you begin posting.

The setting changes from New Earth to Aurae

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Character Portrait: Felspar Tera'le
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Setting

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Character Portrait: Felspar Tera'le Character Portrait: Seraphim Ammiel
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Seated on the hand embroidered cushion that adds comfort and to the golden throne of Aurae, Seraphim Ammiel gazed upon the empty room with unease. Sixteen days since the scandal was born, since the erring Seraphim vanished, and since she had taken up the role of Seraphim. The golden threaded flowers of the cushion still held an imprint not her own. She was still in awe of the faint light from the hazy white sky that glowed colourfully on the ground before stained glass windows; still surprised when people bowed their head or saluted in reverent greeting. It would be many Aurae days, countless years in distant worlds, before she would feel truly at home in this grand throne room.

Caressing the silk of her long dress to convince it to drape smoothly over her knees, she reconciled these thoughts of unfamiliarity with the strength of her beliefs. Even if the goddess had long since broken herself to save the balance of all things, her will still lived on to care for her creations. Ammiel would not know the feel of the golden cushion and the weight of countless angel’s well-being on her shoulders unless she were meant to. The goddess wished her to be here, and she would not let the goddess down as her predecessor had. Leaving the throne, Ammiel crossed to one of the windows overseeing the entrance to the high temple. Tinted in different shades as she moved past the vibrant glass image of the goddess overseeing Aurae, she watched some of her people gathered below. In different faces she saw anger, confusion, and fear, and she felt the pain of each and every one. Delicate fingers caress the glass where their figures aligned as though she could soothe them with this distant act. There were those who were not pleased with her becoming the Seraphim, but she did not blame them. Who could be comfortable with anyone after the betrayal had occurred?

The Seraphim of the not too distant past had cut wounds that threatened to tear apart the purity and order of Aurae, destroying everything that great angels like Felspar Tera’le and Salem Aritos had worked years to put in place after the great war. Ammiel would not understand what her predecessor had done, and she would strive for certainty that nothing like it would ever happen again. Those great angels were still here, as loyal and admirable as ever, and with them she would restore and preserve the balance once more. For her people, for Aurae, and for the will of the goddess.

Folding her hands before her chest and breathing deeply, she uttered a quiet prayer for all those things. Only a moment of such serenity was allowed before shattering glass interrupted her. Starting and stepping back, her eyes fell on the shattered rainbow evidence of what had happened. An old white fragment of brick had entered the room through the symmetrical twin of the window she stood at. Lifting her skirt to avoid catching any glass, she approached the broken window and craned her neck to see the ground below. Dusty pink eyes were lit with concern as she searched for signs that glass had fallen below.

Doors opened and hurried footsteps echoed through the room announcing the entrance of two people, one of which spoke, “Seraphim, are you injured?”

Turning to face the two whom had been posted at the door for her safety in these turbulent times she said, “Did any glass fall outwards? Was anyone below harmed?”

One guard stepped forward to offer her a hand out of the glass mess, which she thanked him for, but did not take his hand, instead exiting the same path she had entered with her own effort. The other guard attempted to answer her. “I’d have to go ask, but it looks to me like all the glass in here.”

Ammiel sighed lightly and tentatively spoke, “I suppose so…” though she was still a bit concerned. Her brows drew together in sorrow as she wondered what had so upset someone that they would be driven to do such a thing. She hoped that in some way this had eased their unhappiness. Looking to the glass, her displeasure was also extended to the one who had slaved over hot glass to form such a beautiful creation in the first place. Realizing that her guards were waiting while she was busy with her worrying, she shifted her attention onto them. “If anyone was hurt, please extend my apologies to them and get them taken care of. I was standing at the other window, and am unharmed, there is no need for you to wait on me.”

The guards accepted her request, and took their leave after informing her of the search for the culprit and suggesting she stay away from windows for the time being. She had agreed to that simple wish and returned to stand on the golden carpet running through the center of the room from the doorway to the throne. Eyeing the throne she found that she did not feel comfortable going back to useless sitting while tense confusion wracked her beloved people and the future of Aurae was still uncertain. She felt the need to do something, anything that could help, and the first place she would always venture when wondering what to do was to her brother. Felspar Tera’le, half-brother, had always relieved her stresses and put her at ease, and now that he was her top advisor, meeting with him was that much more necessary.

Though she assured them of her firm belief that none of her people would truly harm her and offered that her familiars could look out for her, her guards refused to let her leave the high temple without them. She relented and allowed them to walk at her side, but she was very firm in setting that they would not follow her in to see Felspar. Most of the people she passed as they exited to the city streets offered respect and kindness, but some eyes spoke volumes of what they truly thought of her. A soft smile and a gentle wave were offered to all she passed, and many different reactions she witnessed strengthened her concern for the conflicted minds of her people as much as they relieved her, and seeing some children reminded of the importance of a balanced future. By the time she reached the main library, her brother’s domain, she was eager to hear an update on the numerous matters he was juggling.

Leaving her guards with a firm stare to keep them at bay, she wandered into the land of books and reading. The atmosphere here was a comfort to her. The shelves of books, the scent of them, the tranquility – everything about it was her brother’s, and that was enough to return a smile to her face. Making her way slowly to Felspar’s domain, she eventually came to the door of his office. She knocked on the door and announced, “It is me,” believing he could recognize her voice. Taking the liberty to enter, she approached his desk, eyeing the scattering of work that troubled him. With eyebrows drawn in sympathetic concern, she said, “Hello brother. How is your work treating you? I hope you are not working all too hard,” But he did look like he was working too hard. She frowned disapprovingly, but she relied entirely on his work and thoughts in this matter and could hardly scold him for working on it. “Have your thoughts found us proper actions to take?”

Setting

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Character Portrait: Salem Aritos Character Portrait: Felspar Tera'le Character Portrait: Seraphim Ammiel
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Salem Aritos


Salem was not having a good day, but compared to the days of old it was a far cry from a bad one. He'd had to deal with normal petitions and complaints, such tasks were easy. But the more worrying matters involved having to go out in the streets to address complaints of the less formal sort. Within his own district, the young and angry had caused five incidents which had been quickly contained without any real damage. Twice he'd had to go out and address some of the disgruntled members of the mature populace in regards of the past two weeks or so. He'd even had to help a nearby district, not due to a lack of manpower but because he suspected the trouble initiated within his own. The rest of his aid beyond the initial onset was his way of further apologizing for the trouble.

In truth, that mess was still within expectation due to his rather vocal outburst against the current Seraphim. Part of him even felt that his behavior had threatened to undo the years of work it took to allow this level of peace to even exist. It was that moment of conscience that resulted in his submission. He relented his opposition, thus ending the debate of Felspar or Ammiel and even halted the bid for the throne being performed on his behalf. A smile filled with self-derision formed on his face with how blatantly he'd let Aurae and his supporters in particular down. Ultimately, he'd let his best friend down since Felspar trusted his sister implicitly. Salem on the other hand saw sibling favoritism, the girl was too young and reminded him so much of himself in his younger days. Her piety was admirable, the same could be said by her ability to garner such support but like his younger self she was too duty bound. Justice and duty dominated her thoughts, and much like his younger self there seemed a sever deficiency in mercy where her actions were concerned. This struck cord or rather the fear for its potential lead to his dissent and a rather disgraceful departure from his dear partner...he still wasn't ready to see the man yet.

The final straw, and thus the reason for the extended flight and the extensive time for his musing had occurred with his own brothers. The two never visited one another, in fact they frequently attempted murdering each other due to grudges of long ages past. He'd sought to rebuild the ties of his blood family but the arrival to his home was met with drawn weapons. It took a sword into his fore arm and an arrow through his calf during the effort, but he'd managed to bind his brothers to maintain the peace. However, now Salem felt his age and was flying to Aurae, the Seraphim in particular to request a reprieve. The burden of order was getting heavy, and he found even his shoulders grew weary...and he could only grimace and the thought of Felspar's own burden.

As he neared the buildings near the high temple Salem began his descent, and spotted a child of no more than ten years. What caught his attention in regards to this child was his proximity to Salem's own destination. The distance was too great for significant action to take place, and thus he could only observe the youth pry a loose bit of brick from the ground before hurling it into one of the windows of the throne room. The child was smart enough to run from the scene instead of take flight but Salem cut off his otherwise guaranteed escape. A mere flick of the wrist sufficient to bind the boy in Salem's beloved chain.

"What now, are you going to turn me in traitor," the boy viciously snarled. Salem looked closer at the boy and the child was indeed angry, but there seemed to be something more. The child continued without relenting "you were a beacon of hope, a promise of something better than the last Seraphim, but instead you relented to her." That was when Salem caught the tone he was looking for, the underlying blandness of one reciting something they'd heard repeatedly. A sad smile grew on his face while he took a knee, putting him at eye leveling with the child.

" I take it your parents supported either my promotion or my vote for Felspar," the inquiry wasn't meant for specifics and a simple nod and surprised face was all the answer he needed. Salem chuckled and ruffled the boys hair, " You're a good kid, taking your parent's hurt to mind. But there's better methods than throwing stones, especially when this affair is my fault." At this point Salem doubted the boy would understand, however the lecture continued.

"Yes I asked my friend to take up the mantle of the Seraphim. I truly believe he's best for the job, and I truly failed as a friend to see his own burden before selfishly asking him to take up more. I even sought promotion to help, perhaps even hoping to bear the load myself. However, all my efforts went against the very thing I wanted from the start." At this the boys eyes held a spark of curiosity, but Salem silenced him before the boy could ask. "I wanted Aurae to be at peace, and we both see how well my actions turned out."As if the weight of it all finally caught up, Salem's age ended up showing on his face. A weary man carrying nearly a millennium of hard work and emotion, the lapse was only temporary and Salem quickly had his usual young appearance.

"So for peace, I will withhold my reservations of the young Seraphim. Help her when I can and I shall always be her harshest critic and see if she can grow into the office. As Felspar's sister I'm willing to trust she'd either succeed or step down properly." Sure enough the child's face was one of partial comprehension, nevertheless Salem believed the boy held some promise.

"But enough of this," Salem clasped the youth's shoulder while releasing the chain. "You've an apology to deliver and I've work to do...don't worry I've got your back,"the finishing comment was to keep his charge from being too nervous. The two returned to the building the boy had previously vandalized, stopping before the door guard.

"Salem Aritos and guest for the Seraphim, we'd like to request an audience." The message was plainly delivered to the guardsmen and one was sent into the structure. Salem instinctively wrapped a wing around the shaking body next to him, but he himself wasn't certain how to handle the situation either.

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Character Portrait: Felspar Tera'le Character Portrait: Seraphim Ammiel
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Setting

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Character Portrait: Salem Aritos Character Portrait: Felspar Tera'le Character Portrait: Seraphim Ammiel
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After the jumble of confusion and hurried activity that had overtaken the last sixteen days, it was a relief to hear that her brother had thought of a path for them to take. Things could only get worse as time passed, and surely it would be a relief to her people to hear something was being done. She had not considered many of the aspects her brother did, psychology, culture, trust, but that was why he was the advisor after all. A smile lit her face as they hugged. That particular tradition was something she always looked forward to. It often helped to brighten even the worst mood and make things seem a little more manageable. She could follow her brother’s line of thought faintly. Nothing would be fixed while hiding out in Aurae, yet letting people wander a realm full of temptation holds frightening possible consequences. In the pause after her brothers words regarding what types of angels are advisable, she speaks softly to assure she was following, “Yes. I can see why those versed in more serious conduct would be better choices…” Her brothers serious expression drew out the same in her and made her concerned for the content of the words that would follow the gaze. Hearing that Felspar would go to, she could not help letting the pouty, disapproving frown of a concerned sister escape before she managed to wash over it with a more dignified seriousness. Eyes wandering off of her brother for a moment, she feels too clearly the weight on her in his words, “There are enemies in this regime’s horizon.” At first she had wanted to deny it was too bad, but as time went it seemed people were angrier with her than she had imagined. It was upsetting that she was causing trouble, but she hoped soon enough they would see that her heart is in Aurae, and she would do all in her power to care for it as the Goddess would wish. She was in full agreement that separation of individuals was for the best, as his point was very convincing. “Ah, excellent thinking…” She feels a little silly after saying that, would she ever expect any less? She tried to explain that with her explanation of the wise precaution she would not have considered on her own, “Then an errant man won’t know who they have with them to stop.”

Ammiel would, indeed, choose very carefully who to send on such sensitive mission. The most loyal seem obvious, but as her brother said, it really was a good way of testing the true loyalty of those less certain parties. Nodding once in acknowledgment, she says, “I’ll be sure to put careful thought into it.” She frowned to think of those who would betray them. She hoped that they would not have to face such a thing. She meets her brother’s eyes more directly as he speak apologetically. It was not a pleasant concept sending out angels with intent to end the life of a child, but there was no other choice. The balance of the worlds and righting this terrible wrong of the past Seraphim was a matter too important to neglect for the consideration of the age of the one affected. Hearing that her brother may not return was concerning “Is it really so dangerous?” She looks down. “Yes, I suppose it must be…” Taking a deep breath, she raises her head again, “It’s not an easy thing to handle, but I believe your plan does an excellent job of it.” She smiles gratefully, pleased to never be let down by her big brother. “I will arrange to have a meeting of the council this evening to inform them what is to be done, and consider in the meantime who else I trust to send.” For a time she struggles to find appropriate words, in the end she settles with, “I will pray that if there is one thing that you ever will be mistaken about, it will be your suspected grave location.” With that, she gives her brother a final warm smile and speaks a quick farewell, wishing to waste no time taking his work and moving to put it into action.

Meeting with her guards outside the door of the main library, she received a message that Salem Aritos and a guest wished to meet with her. At first it was the meaning of the meeting that concerned her, but soon after she worried at how long he had been kept waiting. It was her hope that the guards had informed her she was out so that he could find somewhere comfortable to wait. Her thoughts then turned to piecing together how to present things to the senate and pouring through the names of angels worthy of trust, or at least a shot at this. It would be good to have some variety of folks, yet it would seem a bad idea to have too many on Earth lest it draw attention. A cautious number at first – test the waters before more is risked. As she was distracted by her thoughts, her feet completed the journey in a time faster than she would have expected and the High temple with its broken window appeared on the horizon. Closing the final distance, she approached Salem and the one shielded in his wing. Seeing a younger individual earns a gentle smile that she would usually try to make a bit more serious before this particular Principality. “Greetings Salem, I received your message. I have the time to spare to grant that audience now.” She raises an arm towards the door as an invitation to follow her. “You could walk with me if you wish, or you can find me in the throne room when you are ready. I have a two hour allowance I am willing to spare.” Doors opened by the guards, she continues on into the temple to make her way to the place appropriate for official meetings.

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Character Portrait: Felspar Tera'le Character Portrait: Seraphim Ammiel
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The setting changes from Aurae to New Earth

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Cerbin "Cerberus" Hiberion Character Portrait: Julius King Character Portrait: Ryuu Shosuke Character Portrait: Bavol Character Portrait: Satan Azrael Character Portrait: Nathaniel K Jenova
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Nathaniel Kale Jenova



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When Julius spoke of re-summoning one of his familiars he looked at him with a weak frown of disapprove before weakly speaking to him, despite looking like death walking and pressed into the young man, it was clear he was strong and could be respected for his resolve at this moment and devotion to Eve's and Julius' health before his which was far dire than theirs. But despite this he ordered the young man. ''Don't summon... You are already strained. I can see it, you will just hurt yourself.''

But as he heard foot steps he put his gun blade up, only to lower it and de-summon his weapon in black mist as he instantly saw that it was Ryuu. He was in obvious pain, struggling to stand but his eyes looked strong still, like... this was not the worst thing he had been though which would tell Ryuu... He was far from a simple teacher, more so now than ever as he shook his head softly and answered her honestly. ''You... can not help me. But I - I can help you.'' He looked to the side of Ryuu before putting a hand up then back to her. ''The bus right?'' He then swiped his hand down. A blast of wind and a crack appeared on the floor before a crack of bluish white light appeared and opened, showing the bus. He slowly put his hand down looking like he was about to pass out. ''All I need... is for you all to go through that rift of mine and you - you will be right at the bus.''

He let the sight and words soak in for a time, his breaths becoming more tired. The use of this rift would send a spike of power to Satan and the Primordiums. Satan would recognize this spike of power from... through out the years... Though it had been a long time since he would of felt this familiar surge of power that bent dimensions to, for him, a stranger, their will. The Primordiums would know this feeling also but... not understand it nor know what or who was causing it. They would have to see Satan about this... unnatural bent in dimension. Demons still in the area would also feel this presence of strange... new power for as long as the rift was open.

Nathaniel then spoke once more, getting more and more out of it, trying to focus still, despite his aggressive wounds. ''All I need... Is a room to take in... for some hours or... days... I don't know... But do not waste medical attention on me... I will be fine after some... rest.'' He looked away some, obvious there was more to tell, but he was reluctant to go into it. He pushed himself up, forcing himself to stand on his own, despite the maimed left arm with it's bone exposed. Or that there was a gaping hole in his midsection that still bled but it was slowing along with his breath and consciousness. He held a hand out weakly when more bluish mist came from his mouth and formed another ethereal orb that crystallized and he caught it in his hand before smashing it on the ground before cracking his neck. ''F-four..'' He mumbled to himself before he gently pushed everyone at once with him through the rift. The would suddenly all four of them be standing in front of the bus as the rift closed. Ending the spike of power once more.

He dragged his feet to the bus' door and opened it before just... getting onto the bus at the back and collapsing onto the row of seats, his breathing slowing but he refused to close his eyes or relax. He waited for Ryuu, Eve and Julius to follow with no energy to speak he just waited, starting to shiver from blood loss, his teeth chattering.

The setting changes from New Earth to Aurae

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Character Portrait: Felspar Tera'le
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The setting changes from Aurae to True Cross Academy, Fidel City

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He was dreaming again. Within his pedestrian fantasy, the sky wore coffee-stained, ancient colors above an endless stretch of water that sat calmly without disturbance. A few clouds brushed the decay of the sky—how fragile they were, as though they would dissolve in shame if kept under harsh scrutiny. Motherless light descended onto the clear surface, reflecting the same continuum of the sky, but it was not quite the same. The mirroring impression the water offered was unreal, a figment born as an apparition, a mental coquette, but never existent in the reality of the dream—untouchable even in reach. No matter how many times he blinked, the sepia luster branded his retina with cloudland, and when he closed his eyes, he was brought to the surface of an inferno, the back of his eyelids fashioned as red organic chambers, reminding him he was conscious here.

The first step was always foreign, an illusory limb he felt as a part of him, yet the somatic sensation was not enough to convince him that it was truly his own. He walked toward the direction presented the moment he first opened his eyes. A glance around would tell him there was nowhere in particular to go within the edgeless space of absent deviance. He felt that no matter what direction he chose, he would end up in the same location within a rupture of time and space, caught in a vacancy of the subliminal chaos. He would be either suspended or left in free fall, perhaps become oblivious to the reality of such occurrences, much like every dream that rose from the consequence of his avoidance of sleep. But how do the dreams usually end? If he remembered, it might be quicker to escape the desolation of his soul and stop the madness from returning every time he bathed in the river of dreams.

Fatigue rendered him unable to pay attention to his pace and the number of his steps. The horizon shifted upon the spectacle of a misplaced door consuming a small patch of the sky and resting on the boundary above the pretentious water. He approached the rather ornate door without caution—what an artless predilection for neglect he appeared to possess at the moment. After all, he would wake up unaffected and forgetful of whatever transpired, and this was enough reason for him to act impulsively when the only distinct effect is the lingering dread of abandonment circulating his system in the aftermath.

Possessing not a wall or any means of support, the door floated seemingly out of purpose, abandoned to confuse the visitors of this world. The small sculptures on the lintel possessed war angels carrying spears and swords. Whilst their alabaster gaze found their blissful daemonic counterparts on the jambs, they seem lost in their accusations of those damned, and awkward in their artificial stations. Some were bent over as though in punishment; others suggested they were running away by the way they turned their bodies away from the angle of the edges. The daemons were tempted in eternal laughter, pointing, and holding not dust in their hands except their fictional black hearts. It was as if they could free themselves from the surface, be able to fly away or turn the angels into white dust, and they certainly could if they wanted.

He wondered if this door represented what he thought of the worlds, the angels, and the daemons. The contemplations of eager demise did not astound him as it would to the critical people of Aurae. It would not so much astound them, but they would find him blatantly ridiculous with a tongue patched with buncombe. As no doorknob existed, he pressed his fingers against the stubborn surface, and his fingertips throbbed in surprise of the sudden shift from the perpetual air that carried them earlier. The door opened slowly even at the slightest push, only to reveal the abyss beckoning him into its lonely womb. An immediate, distant echo melted into the darkness, unintelligible at first, but the fetal sound grew stronger, until he heard what it said as though the creature speaking the words was drawing closer. But nothing appeared.

Come with me and take me home,” said the abyss before pulling him into the door. He slowly lost his sensation and freedom, and finally, as if his skin was teasing him from the sudden hypoesthesia, he felt he descended from the skies and into nightfall.

Unlike his other dreams, he remembered most of the details of this dream upon waking. It confused him at first, but he thought about whether being on Earth had to do with the exceptional ability to secure the memory of his dreams stringently. Or it might just be a momentary gift from Death before he goes to receive its osseous kiss. His dream could be the response to the piercing feeling he had upon entry to this world, something primal and predatory that buried itself immediately into his soul when it found him.

The wall of cement supported his feeble body, the result from a tragic, short fall onto a soft bed of mud and grass near an abandoned building. He managed to crawl into the dusty greeting of what appeared to be a factory with oxidized machinery and broken conveyor belts dedicated to the production of an unknown human artifact. For a few days, he attempted to recover his strength after the punitive burden the travel between worlds had on his body. But he decided it was time to find the child before he prematurely dies from a different disease other than suicide. Standing did not take as much effort as he expected, but the walking was disheartening. A step was closer to a stumble, unsteady and uncertain, worse than the limbs in his dreams, which he could at least move in volition. Slowly, he walked toward exposure—until the open world cradled him.

The night sky was quite a marvel to witness for a fourth time since he descended from Aurae. He once imagined the colorless sky of Aurae to be inked with soot upon reading what the night sky appeared like in the stolen books from Earth, but his imagination can only shiver underneath the expanse of this universe, the raw and unforgiving climate haunting his skin in transcendent memento.

Sprinkles of red, blue, and white orbs of light floated in the distance from where he stood. He decided to begin there, hoping that his primordial substance would draw him close to where the child existed. Perhaps that was what the feeling was, the allure from a child torn by heaven and inferno, or it may be something else that was monstrous and out for blood.