Reticent steps.
A sultry whisper amidst such a cacophonic choir. Birthed by twin mothers, girls, one bearing a head of sanguine crimson, the other a chatoyant satin brown, their visages paradoxical, Areata, demonic, yet possessing neither the flames nor lucid pigmentation of such cambion creature, while Fiamma lay deficit of such loathsome, blasphemous, countenance.
Eyes of fire scoured the land, indifferent, apathetic, lined by an aura of atramentous anathema. Fiamma simply moved, her body indoctrinated to such notion, her heels walking a path antecedently tread innumerable times, embossed and embedded by solely her. An abstracted clamour, bearing bodies multitudinous in number, echoed aimlessly amidst her virginal ears, unsympathetic to the world they ventured to seduce, a continuous attempt at inadequate courtship. Tempestuous throes, sourced not from human lungs but of open palms, of deific gift, a song endlessly histrionic yet one Fiamma absentmindedly martyred.
Twin jewels of ruby once forced upon a plain of perpetual monochrome Tellus shifted, disconsolate, heartsick, encased by shadow of eternal stygian sunlessness, Fiamma's eyes befell a realm of repugnant acquaintanceship, her immutable birthright. Dainty visages unfastidiously littered the ostentatious theatrical horizon of halcyon, from their persons rupturing innumerable abilities, from distant claps of spasmodic perverse lightning to bloodcurdling blades vomiting forth from fingers, splitting flesh of once unadulterated alabaster.
Incessant targets, humanoid in appearance, lay vanquished before such paralysing adolescents, their visages maimed, mangled, bereft of heads, their bodies of dyed hues stained mendacious unfounded shades of sanguine, concocted, fictitious organs wreathed upon their macabre lurid carcasses. Still, Fiamma appeared supercilious to such sight, haughty and unemotional, she listlessly continued, her every step followed by a twin, that was until such Gemini vibration echoed not, evanesce.
The girl, possessing head of crimson, stood languidly before a beauty sporting drapes of drab grey, Fiamma's eyes scintillating with luminescent light of unobscured accursed abhorrence, for before her loomed not the sole visage of her instructor, but that of an item, of a monolith, a gargantuan corpus of barbaric, inelegant fuliginous adumbral ore, blessed with a body, a purpose, that of nascent gatekeeper, a crude door. Soundless words lay interchanged between the pair, with neither instruction nor counsel. The singular disciplinarian of the domain merely pulled, her recherché hands intertwined upon a body of crude cleft precipice.
A noiseless soliloquy, inarticulate and hushed, the door opened with neither throe of hatred nor squeak of vivacious euphoria but soundless stoicism, an indifference to Fiamma's nostalgic form. Darkness, a realm of aphotic, caliginous boundless nebulousness, one of which the intermittent rays of now morn light fruitlessly miscarried in their duty to impregnate. A muted advance erupted from Fiamma's impassioned visage, her form undaunted, placid to such harrowing, heart-rending apperception, and within mere seconds, her head, antecedently bearing shade of zoetic, fervid crimson, lay drab, a monochrome plain of crepuscule ebony, while her visage, as though desperate to see her beloved performed a motion erstwhile unprecedented amidst the opaque realm.
A spasmodic flection, an ardent turn, twin rubies of darkened marron lay graced by exiguous rays of dying luminescence, an eclipse soon to come, for the door of wrought stygian shade started to shut, impassioned leers erupted from Fiamma's enamoured visage, her eyes intertwined amidst an antagonistic masquerade with the realm, scouring every inch of the domain upon which she would soon fail to behold, yet, no matter how melodramatic her gaze, she would fail to find Eros's sadistically smiling face of once heartwarming bewitchment, he had moved, his person lay taboo of the spot upon which she had been forced to depart.
Taken.
Stolen.
Fiamma's mind played with such a notion endlessly, vain in its attempt to befall her beloved, her eyes blazed with a torrid hatred, a perfervid profound malevolence, a venom to solely be digested by Areata and the twin youths of whom Eros once loomed aside. And it was with such loathsome pestiferous that Fiamma beheld a sight of utmost foetid repugnance, for with the prophesied eclipse of her gatekeeper did she spy that girl, her satin hair chasmically cleaved by a sombre horn. Areata, her visage heretofore tenuous, now breathed before Fiamma's tremulous figure. However, Areata gazed not upon the stygian realm, callous, nascent, ignorant to Fiamma's. Instead, her eyes lay interwoven with the sole pedagogue, her lips articulating an utterance the ill-lighted, tenebrous girl ethereally heeded.
"Can't….spar….training," Areata breathed, her every vociferation birthing neoteric, new-fangled emotions upon the authoritarian face of their instructor, that was until amidst the final flecks of radiance, she performed a motion, her hand of white oscillating upon her veiled stomach while a look of incandescent rapture pulled upon her vile cheeks.
*Bang* The crepuscular piece of shadowed ore slammed shut. The rift between worlds, that of incandescent zoetic vivacity and morose acrimonious lightlessness, lay severed, maimed, forbidden to be tailored until the passing of myriad hours or until Fiamma accomplished her quest. Destitute sounds echoed not, mere whispers of their once boisterous cries of courtship, of epicene enchantment.
Still, such darkness, an infinite void of prophesied tyranny, appeared feckless before Fiamma, its sovereign rule soon to be usurped, accroached by a lambent sun of scarlet, that which quivered upon the girl's raised palm of ivory. A familiar sight, a domain prosaic, commonplace to Fiamma, a room neither grand nor expansive, the space possessed a body of five metres by five metres, embellished and crafted entirely of hyperboreal austere stone, with neither pattern nor embossed accessories to decorate the grungy, lusterless space. No hangings painted the walls, merely an erratic portrait of capricious scarlet, that which waged war with the nature of the land.
Yet, amidst such flooring of monochrome stone appeared a shadow, daunting and harrowed, accursed, unsanctified and unseen by the heavens, a piece of raised flooring, no, the item was too intricate, too titanic to warrant such fickle christening. Contrived of the same masonry it loomed, elephantine in its place, petrified and unmoving, a curved basin, a brazier, that of which held not water nor sustenance for flame but exclusively air.
Yet, Fiamma eyed not the object with intrigue nor nascent aporetic scepticism. The girl did not doubt the item's place in the room, for she had basked in its incredulous glory every day since her arrival at Enuma Esper Academy. Her goal, crystalline, lucid, Fiamma, was to light the basin without casting her flames from her palms nor controlling that of which she had already spawned.
A feat she had yet to accomplish.
Yet one Eros would accidentally incite.