THEREXION'S PROFILE

“Stay away from the storm!” He calls out frantically, but he knows she can’t hear him. However, he doesn’t acknowledge this fact; instead, he yells louder, with hopes that, by happenstance, she may heed his desperate warnings. “Death be to all those who—” Suddenly he clasps his burning throat and collapses. He’d forgotten about the bind: the blood mark on his forehead that prevented him from speaking of The Acolyte. As much as he wants to, he is unable to stop her. He can only watch in agony as she carelessly traipses to her untimely doom. As she closes in on the broad, stone gate, she glances at the figures etched into it. They seem of Greek influence and resemble a variety of their deities.
Moving closer, she raises her arms and places them solidly on the door. Faintly, she hears an urgent scream from behind her, but is far go focused to notice. With all of her strength, she pushes the large slabs ajar. They’re incredibly heavy, but she manages to open them enough to allow herself entrance. As she looks inside, she sees exactly what she expected to see.
Darkness.
But then, the Gates of Alexandria show only what the viewer believes to be there. She reaches her hand out to it and feels the substance. It is dark purple in color and has a feel similar to that of gel. Emboldened by this, she begins pushing her body through the gelatinous form. The thin coating that sits atop it, though difficult to pass through, breaks as she pushes harder, and she slides easily into it. She slowly moves further and further away, into the endless shadows, until the light of the world is no longer visible. Then, she vanishes entirely.
For when one is completely detached from the light of the world; one becomes enveloped in the darkness of humanity. Darkness so strong, once entered, one may never return.
Alive, that is.
The boy slumps over in his chains; she was gone and he would never be able to get her back. Turning to the man behind him, he glares furiously.
“What… have… you… done?!” The calm figure eyes him coolly and turns his gaze back to the Gates of Alexandria.
“I’ve done nothing, Calleo, she went through of her own free will. You know this as well as I do, I am not to be blamed.” He nods and turns around, walking back into the nothing of which he came.
“You could have stopped this from the very beginning, dear boy. You could have saved her—preserved her Spirit and allowed her reason to stay. But you were afraid.” He paused, muttering something to himself before turning back around and continuing.
“And because you did not believe in yourself, you could not believe in her. And for this, she is gone. If you wish to blame anyone, blame yourself.” The moment he finished his sentence, he was gone. Calleo curses under his breath with vigil and lies back on the pedestal to which he is bound. He stares at the stars in the sky and the moon shining ever brightly over the grassy plains. The boundless emptiness of space seems to taunt him. “… to what end?” He says, resigned. “Even if I had believed… would my belief alone have been enough?”