It's Always Darkest Before the Dawn.

[marvel.]

It's always darkest just before the dawn.

The twilight loomed over the ruins of a once prosperous land, now left to this. Nothing but desolation and decimation, and rubble, waste. It saddened Carthares, moving his way through the destruction, leading Persephone at his side atop his stallion. They'd been traveling for a few hours now, and they were just about at their destination. He slowed his mount to a steady stop, lightly patted his mane and glanced at his companion. She knew what he silently implied, there hardly was a need for words between the two of them.

He advanced, descending down the slope of the wasteland. In a moment he completely disappeared from Persephone's view, but she could still see him— such was the way of their connection. Fortunately for them, anyway. Carthares stopped when he reached an ebony and amethyst maelstrom on land, it churned and roared violently. A rift was being opened in the mountain range, and he had to close it before anything foul vomited out.

From his pores a circle began to etch itself, like an artist sketching one onto his canvas; the first few tell-tale signs of a masterpiece. It drew itself across his chest, and like a door being kicked from it's hinges his torso ruptured, tearing open. A rune emblazoned within this hole inside him, arms spreading as far as they could go. He screamed when the dark storm began to contort and twist, responding to his presence. The darkness knew him, and knew him well.

‘Its him,’ they discovered. ‘the Void.’

Suddenly the storm collapsed, something stirring inside. Alabaster streaks of lightning and thunder painted the sky, and black hands made of ichor and grime surfaced from inside the vortex, soaring for Carthares.

The story of our life, in the end, is not our life, it is our story.

Closed RP.

[marvel.]

Out from the belly of the beast erupted a half-dozen dark, grimy demons with six-inch long talons and razor sharp teeth, big emerald eyes, standing at about anywhere from one- to two-feet tall. Carthares grinned, energy crackling all around him as he began the all too familiar method in closing a gate to the oblivion. The minions landed next to him, on him and around him, growling, snarling and making other demonic gestures moments before attacking him.

Persephone! he called out, alerting her of the situation; one she had warned him about countless times before today, and would no doubt remind him ceaselessly.

Carthares growled, slammed two demons head-to-head and tossed them aside, where they fell limp. His eyes grew a bright orange, energy meticulously flowing from them, burning to life like wildfire. He could not move from his position, not in the critical moments where he needed to consume a good portion of the vortex before allowing the rest to just collapse on it's own. Carthares had to draw more in, but that didn't mean he couldn't still put his powers to use.

Immediately, and just around the time another half-dozen arrived from the other side of the gate, Carthares manipulated his shadow and the shadows around him to deviate. The black appendages began assaulting the hands from before, and also work to subdue the few demons around him. He couldn't help the demons that broke from the pack and charged for Persephone.

‘The Light-bringer,’ they exclaimed. ‘She must be destroyed!’

[Portafortuna.]

Persephone watched from high atop Carthares’ stallion as the man rushed the tempest ahead of them. Up until this moment, she had found herself to be as calm and placid as…well, the calm before the storm, if you will. That was how she usually had been. Even the discouraging remnants of a once-flourishing place seemed not to stir the woman all that much. She watched him, until out of sight, as she had done in times before and then awaited her time of assistance, but still saw him. But the usual call for assistance was not what met her ears this time, no, but a call of her name, warning; an alert.

The stallion she remained perched upon shifted and huffed, hot air exploding from its nostrils as its all-knowing eyes darted this way and that, its tail flicking agitatedly. Persephone knew something was happening, something might be coming, but it seemed as though the animal knew more than she. And still the monster of a storm swirled and threatened the skies it overtook, and Persephone felt blinded.

Within the moment, a handful of creatures, small in size but deadly in their strategy and maneuvers, were upon Persephone and the stallion. The animal released a horrid cry as it instinctively rose to its back legs and thrashed its forelegs at the creatures scurrying along the ground; Carthares’ stallion knew how to protect her. What couple managed to leap past the horse and soar for Persephone, the woman found herself smacking and beating them away from her out of involuntary reaction, with her arms and hands. Truth be told, she’d probably receive some blows for this from the little monsters, cuts and scratches here and there, but having the advantage of already being positioned on her high horse, she hadn’t been all that worried. But their relentlessness angered her, and she immediately felt the warmth of a comforting light rising within her. Those azure eyes of hers glowed brilliantly and radiated with the shimmer of the energy and light growing within her.

When one or two of the small beasts rose from their seemingly defeated place on the ground and attempted to come at her once more, they were caught and engulfed in mid-flight by an enveloping, showering light that seemed to suspend them in their action. They froze—blank, confused expressions—followed by the acknowledgement and realization of their fates. Like a magician’s trick, they seemed to glow the same bright light as she, and then all but seemed to just…vanish. Collapsing unto their own and disappearing into the blank space, leaving behind nothing, no trace, and the atmosphere they had just recently taken up before seemed as though nothing had ever happened there. Thusly, they had been banished. Almost immediately, Persephone tore through the air with her words.

”Close it! Close it, now!”

The other demons that found themselves still conscious and living after that moment all scurried in a panicked manner away from the woman and the horse.

Those that remained unconscious or already dead, the horse seemed obliged to finish the job for her, stomping and prancing on the fallen bodies best it could with its weight and clobbering them to their end.

It wasn’t that easy to destroy the light.

Nothing can remain dark forever, she vaguely recalled stating to Carthares at some point since meeting him. She had always been like that towards him, since their destined meeting. Reminding him of things, adding her own cryptic tone to his company when she could.

After the threat had been taken care of, Persephone stroked the mane of the animal as it proudly stepped away from the mess it had created and the glow in her eyes simmered with each blink, the warmth that had overtaken her now settled and cooled. Persephone, the Light-bringer, surveyed over her cuts and scrapes and sneered distastefully at them. She’d be fine, but it had come as a bruise to her ego, or whatever ego she had. She had been taught and trained better than that, and to falter in the moment when it mattered and rely on instinct and involuntary reaction and her abilities only as an afterthought, instead of using her knowledge and training right away…well, she decided she’d just keep the cuts and scrapes out of Carthares’ immediate sight for as long as she could, and even then wouldn’t make a fuss over it. For now, she and the horse remained in place and waited, those sapphire orbs staring into the persuasive and seductive depths of the dark, roaring storm, watching for Carthares’ signature.

[marvel.]

‘You will not defeat us, Void!’

‘Oh, yeah?’ he asked, a grin forming on his countenance. ‘Watch this.’

The crackling, rotating torrent of the gate suddenly lost over half of it's original strength, and before it lost a whole hell of a lot more than that. There wasn't going to be much left of the storm when Carthares was done with it. He ground his teeth, grabbed the thread connecting him to the storm and tugged. Immediately it contorted and toppled, but it's fire and will wasn't completely out yet.

“Close it!”

I'm trying, he thought to himself, no doubt relaying the thought to Persephone a good distance away. Carthares drew in a long, drawn out breath, held it in for a moment and then exhaled it right back out with his eyes closed for effect. He opened them up again only to view a horde of small minions, all descending on him.

“Close it, now!”

He growled as her voice boomed in his head, he didn't hate her, he couldn't hate her. He was incapable of hating Persephone, but she really pissed him off sometimes— Boom he thought. Boom? Boom.

With clenched fists, bulging, ripping muscles, and the scream to boot, Carthares planted himself into the ground. He took hold of the thread, twisted and pulled it to his diaphragm and released a massive collection of energy he'd spent absorbing over the last few minutes into a giant explosion. It took several minutes for the dust to settle, but when it finally did Carthares stood at the epicenter of a few-hundred meter deep crevice.

‘Oops,’ he said, glancing in the direction Persephone no doubt stood. ‘I think I overdid it just a little bit.’

[Portafortuna.]

Persephone watched in a silence that would shatter the sound barrier of this world and the next, as the blackened storm that seemed to rage on endlessly began to be destroyed; its minions faltering and ceasing to exist along with it. She clutched the reins to the stallion that snorted anxiously, awaiting the approval to move.

I'm trying

Eyes narrowed to slits as she watched, and waited. His trying was more than just that, he was succeeding, and succeeding well, but there was much more for him to learn. She thought he took dramatics too much in this, theatrical performances for something so stifling and important. He needed to learn to follow the plan and not improvise on a whim as he always seemed to do.

And then there was dust. Lots of dust, and a defeated storm.

Persephone drew in a slow, deep breath, more of triumph than relief, but relief was present as well. Now her job would begin. The horse stirred restlessly, kicking at the ground on which he stood and grumbling into the silence that Persephone still held. Although she had been out of the distance to see him for real, or the fathomless crater he had created, she could feel him, she could…perceive him enough to know he had done something. His words…those words that seemed to seep into her mind like a sneaky, slithering snake, only confirmed her suspicions.

Carthares, as usual, had gone overboard in his actions. She sighed and watched for him in the distance.

Much more for him to learn, she reminded herself.

[marvel.]

TWO DAYS LATER:
Somewhere up North.
Sundown.

The day was entering the evening, and the sun was beginning to fade, letting night settle in. The two giants waged an endless war for dominance, but were like graceful lovers, sharing their reign with the other. Like two siblings, compromising and allowing an equality in their kingdom; the domain of the sky. Carthares was sitting down on a small makeshift seat; a large rock he'd found a ways away, in the bed of a small river a few miles out. Persephone had gone to tend to his horse, a wondrous steed. Even though it was his mount, she'd grown a liking to it. He couldn't fault her, though, he was a great horse.

Carthares sat next to a small fire, seeing how the lands up North were colder than where they'd been weeks ago. But, that was only fitting, he reminded himself. He'd found livestock a few miles out, by the river, and was now cooking it before they'd feast for nightfall.

“Persephone,” he called, shifting in his seat not tearing his eyes from the cooking food. “It's almost ready. Leave him alone, he's fine.”

He licked his fingers and removed the pan from the fire, setting it on a collection of rocks he'd turned into a small 'table.' Carthares was handy, he learned to be, you had to be in the wild, on the road, on your own. He'd learned a few things from Persephone, and a few things on his own. He smiled at his masterpiece; the meal that would fill them for the night and morning of the next day, at least until he found breakfast.

There was another seat for her, too, once she joined him, opposite the small table. Their tent had been made, with the single cot mattress, their pillows and blankets already set out, ready. The day was almost over, and Carthares knew the next few days would be paramount to their mission; or rather his mission.

[Portafortuna.]

Slowly and confidently Persephone’s hand stroked along the stallion’s mane and neck, curving down around his chest and traveling back up once again. This is what she enjoyed, spending time with Carthares’ horse and fussing over it as if it were her own child. As if the horse couldn’t feed himself, Persephone had taken the time to tug up a handful of grass and she held it under the horse’s mouth for him to take in; which of course, he did. A mighty fine horse, indeed. However, at Carthares’ calling, she arched a brow at the horse, which seemed to look her square in the eye in return with an amused glance. She chuckled, and turned away from the steed.

When she approached him, she noticed he had a nice fire going, and the scent of the cooking meal found its way to her nostrils and lingered in the air—it smelled awfully good. It had been a good while since she had first met Carthares, and they had been traveling together ever since. During that time, she had taught him many things, including certain tricks of the trade as far as cooking and preparing meals on the go went, but she had always enjoyed experiencing the little touches he picked up along the way on his own to surprise her.

Taking her seat at the makeshift table with him, she leaned forward to rest her elbows on her knees. She stared into the dancing flames that lapped at the food that was cooking over it, and she held the palms of her hands out to warm them.

“It’s pointless to tell me to leave the horse alone, when you know after I’m done eating I’m going to return to him.”

She raised her eyes from the licking flames and glanced to his face, awaiting his eyes. Once she had them, she would search them for his reaction. She was being playful, and smiled.

“You can’t keep me away from him. No one can.” She chuckled and watched him for a moment, then turned her gaze heavenward and spoke with the utmost dramatically snobbish tone that she could. “Maybe I’ll sleep outside with him tonight. Or maybe…kick you from the tent and give it to him!” By now, she was full-out laughing. She loved to laugh, and she especially liked laughing when he was the cause, her source.

As she lowered her gaze back from the atmosphere and toward him, smiling again. This time, however, her smile didn’t hint of amusement, didn’t whisper humor or indicate laughter. It was a pure and simple smile of appreciation. After a moment, she cleared her throat and looked back to the fire, to the food…to the flames, and blinked.

“Food smells really good. I’m hungry.”

[marvel.]

When Persephone strolled into the perimeter of the fire's light, Carthares had already begun to portion her food onto a plate. He glanced at her with a very familiar gaze when she said what she said, handing her her plate. He knew she was joking, so she'd get no more than this look, this expression, plastered onto his face; a grin and a blank stare.

Then, maybe I should give him your dinner, he thought to himself, snickering mentally.

He handed her the plate nevertheless, and after she'd taken it from his grasp he worked on setting his portion onto his plate. He ate— and periodically between watching his food, staring at the fire, and eating —he shot a glance at her from time-to-time. She was always in his mind, on his thoughts, and in his dreams. She'd been in them since he was thirteen, and to this day he still didn't completely make sense of it all.

Even after about half a decade of warring the evils of the world with her at his side, Carthares was still perplexed by her, by his powers, by everything. By the time he finished all his thoughts he'd finished eating, and was now staring into the embers of the fire, and cleaning his plate.

“Looks like it's going to be cold tonight,” he whispered, shifting his sights onto Persephone.

Carthares seemed to be the itinerant weatherman, predicting the world's condition by an indescribable knack he seemed to have. Did the other Ingram men before him possess this? he wondered, asking himself repeatedly. He'd yet to get an answer, but that didn't completely bother him. It wasn't that extreme that he had to know.

“How is it,” he asked, referencing to the food. Exchanging glances with Persephone for a moment or two, lost in her starry gaze.

[Portafortuna.]

Taking the plate as it was handed to her, Persephone caught the all-too familiar glance Carthares sent her way in response to her playful onslaughts. She was playful, he knew this, and he had never seemed to mind. Still, she couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction of herself, not to mention because of him, when she was always rewarded in the end with that particular look. That is when she knew she had won.

She sat and ate quietly, enjoying her food and the sound that crackling fire made as its flames continued to dance in the night. Here and there she could feel Carthares’ gaze on her, could feel him watching her, and swore that if she had turned to look at him, she would see those flicking flames reflecting in his eyes. She blinked, commanding herself not to look at him, and instead turned her gaze back to her food.

Persephone knew she was on his mind, knew he dreamt about her in the night. For him, it was something he couldn’t understand, and definitely couldn’t control. For her, however, she knew this all too well. Sure, he was constantly in her thoughts, her dreams, ever since the young age of thirteen—and even still to this day—even after the fact that they had met each other. For some reason, Persephone always assumed that once the two had met, the dreams would cease, since the two destined beings had been brought together and forged into connection. This wasn’t true, because she still dreamed of him every night. Although she understood more so than he did, she was nonetheless left baffled. Not to mention there was a fat chance at controlling it, that just wouldn’t happen.

Looks like it's going to be cold tonight

His whispers freed her from her thoughts and she turned to look at him quietly. He always did seem to hold something for the weather, and although to her knowledge Ingram men always seemed to hold special talents involving almost anything and everything, this one kind of surprised her. She figured he’d have some sort of…hint, to things, but his keen senses always seemed to be so direct, so on target. She nodded slightly in agreement and looked into the distance at the stallion.

Once finished her meal, she pushed the plate to the side just a tad bit, agreeing with herself that she was finished, and wiped at her mouth discretely.

“It was very good, as always.”, she locked eyes with him once more. So fierce and intense were the moments in which she managed to connect gazes with him. As though she were staring straight into his soul, and so unnerved was she at the thoughtful possibility that he could be staring right back into hers.

After a rather long moment, she tore her eyes away and settled them onto the stallion again.

“It’s getting late, and I’m tired, and we’ve got some walking to do tomorrow.”

She began to stand from her seat and took a step or two in the direction of the horse before glancing back to him from over her shoulder. “I’m going to check on him, and then head for the tent.”

She turned completely away from him and made her way to the horse, where she busied herself for the next few minutes, prolonging the time between the present moment and the moment when she might have found herself gazing into his eyes again.

[marvel.]

Carthares couldn't help the smile that crept it's way onto his face, and so when they stared at each for the longest time his gaze never wavered, never faltered. But when she broke the exchange of glances, he was reminded that he had preparing he needed to do before he could call it a night, and rest for the next day. Carthares went back to wiping off the plates and utensils, he wouldn't completely clean them until the morning, when he could get to the body of water. His eyes dared to rise back on her, but he forced them down, onto the plates, the utensils, the pot, anything...the fire.

Then she said something he'd knew she'd eventually of said; going to the horse, again, he thought, smirking some. He didn't say it, and only nodded if she glanced at him, still cleaning, still working, still fighting to keep his eyes off her.

In only a few minutes he was done, and putting everything away, then crawling into the tent. Carthares grunted when his back connected with the small cot, and he stretched, and groaned, before turning onto his right side. It never took him very long to sleep, but he liked waiting 'till he knew Persephone was safe before allowing himself to drift into the unconsciousness— and so he waited, eyes closed, breathing soft, body waiting.

The laws of Man are tenuous, and easily broken. The laws of God, however, are absolute, unruly, and must not be arrogated.

[Portafortuna.]

After finishing tending to the stallion, making sure it would be comfortable and warm, not to mention safe, in the chilly weather to befall them during the night, Persephone crept her way towards the tent. As she passed the snapping fire that would eventually during the night simmer down to glowing embers and then die out, Persephone couldn’t help but feel drawn to the dancing flames. She stared at them intently as she passed, and then continued her way into the tent. Pushing aside the material of the ‘door’ to the tent, she spotted Carthares’ figure in the cot.

Bewildered, she gave the shadowed form a look, a brow arching atop her countenance and eyes of blue studying him carefully. Had he unconsciously and without thought climbed into the cot seeking the warmth of the covers in his sleep? No matter, she knew what had to be done.

As she made her way closer to the cot, she came to realize Carthares’ eyes were closed and his breathing was slow and deep. She wondered if he really was asleep, or not. Using her knee, she nudged the edge of the cot, which, whether Carthares had been truly sleeping or just resting with his eyes shut, he’d no doubt respond to this action. Sure enough, his eyes fluttered open.

“What are you doing?”, her words came as simple and genuine as someone experiencing something new for the first time. “You’re in my spot…”, she finally finished, almost not wanting to, almost feeling guilty.

He should have known better, or at least, she thought he knew better. He wasn’t supposed to be in her bed, in her spot, and she never in his. It’s just how things had to be.

After a moment, she watched him reluctantly roll out from under the covers and slip out of her cot. She then watched as he wordlessly settled himself to the floor as he had done in any other night before when they slept outdoors with the tent. Once the humiliating moment was over, a trembling Persephone sighed quietly and slid herself beneath the covers and into the cot, still shivering even after just having sought refuge. The cold night’s air couldn’t bite her from under the covers, and slowly but surely she felt the blood within her warming, her flesh following suit and the shaking beginning to cease. Feeling the tug of sleep drawing on her eyelids, she blinked heavily and fought off the temptation of sleep for just a moment.

Squinting against her sleepiness, Persephone glanced down from the cot over to Carthares on the floor, where his body shivered slightly every now and then from the jabs of cold that were surely reaching him outside of the covers. Against her better judgment, she stubbornly watched him for a few moments, not wanting to give in to her conscience.

Eventually, she faltered. Carthares would be her downfall, this she knew.

A slight frown weighed her lips as she whispered into the inky shadows, “You’re cold…” She trailed off and left her words hanging in the air for what would seem like an eternity. Really, it had only been a reasonable pause before she finished. “Please, come here. Please.”