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The enormous black rat skittered quickly through the crack in the face of the mountain, tiny claws gripping the contours of the slick stone face as it scaled the sheer vertical tunnel before scampering down a much more level slope and along a thick-woven cord hanging from the natural dome formed by the ceiling before dropping to the floor below and transforming into a man and dropping to one knee.
“Mother!”
Slowly Lilith turned her head to face her second-born son, her face expressionless and gaze glacial. “Kharon, why have you come here?”
“You mean that you didn’t know? Didn’t feel it?” relative surprize broke through his normal frigid composure as he gazed up at her. “Aser. He’s dead.”
Though the Dark Mother didn’t outwardly react to the news, she rose from her position seated on the stone throne and crossed the chamber of the cave to where a large red crystal stood atop a carved pedestal. Bringing it to life with the pass of her hand, she observed the images which surfaced in silence for a while before finally speaking. “AshHand did this.”
“Yes. It would seem that the mortal fool who fancies himself the ‘chosen one’ of heaven wishes to declare open war against us.”
“Then he shall get his wish,” Lilith hissed, gaze fierce as it landed on him once again. “Take your legions, Kharon, and march upon their stronghold in the West. Avenge your brother’s death in the blood of the mortals who would even dare to think of standing against us but bring Eros ‘AshHand’ to me alive.”
“You’d kill him yourself, mother? He’s hardly deserving of such an honor.”
“Death,” she replied, “is too good for him. Far too lax a punishment for what he has done. The so-called Angel’s Own has taken my son, now he will replace him and live forever, damned, as that which he hates.”