Forsaken, derelict of zoetic vivacity, where once tread innumerable lives loomed nought but stagnant hyperborean air. The corridor formerly stained by seeds of variegated hue lay monochrome, portraits of innocuous personnel ravished by the stygian twilight, illuminated by nought but the spasmodic luminescence of an enigmatic empyrean crescent. Gemini steps cited a solemn choir, tread by flesh of tandem porcelain and snow.
Eros, his visage umbrageous, cast of adumbral shadow, where neither shade of pink scintillated nor eye of primaeval brown menaced, bred by darkness Eros lead an eternal advance, skin of snow the single ascribable feature to all whom beheld such dreary figure. Anarchal candelabras spasmodically cleaved the shawl of lightlessness, staining but mere metres in their preternatural orange lustrousness.
"Left" From within the sovereign silence echoed words of utmost quiescence, seldom audible, and yet, they appeared evermore unambiguous amidst the cardinal, regnant boy's mind. They were an order, a proverb of instruction, Gabriella's fracturable command. Instinctually the youth turned, his right extremity amaranthine in its place atop the apathetic beauty's calloused palm. A maze of corridors, to Eros, the voluminous labyrinthine school appeared as such, his mind yet to atlas the baroque paths mundane to both Fiamma and Gabriella. He simply obeyed the mourning Venus's every utterance, her words intermittently embellished by stifled tears.
That was until a sight of utmost familiarity consecrated his view, a reverent corridor entrapped by ascendent walls of superlative, paramount limestone. The flooring of baroque wood antecedently shaded by light of variegated colouration lay drab, macabre, luridly dyed an achromatic bloodless hue of waxen ash, progeny to the cherubic moon that brewed amidst the backdrop, veiled by an unknown portrait. Twain doors appeared mirrored, embedded and ingrained akin to twin tumorous mounds upon either side of the expansile plain, the left craft of ostentatious conspicuous chestnut bronze so deific that not even air dared aerate. At the same time, the right bore transparent gothic origin, forged of ebony upon which myriad tendrils of wrought iron solely flourished.
'We're back?' The boy absentmindedly murmured, his form cretinous, illiterate and nescient to the ceaseless enticement of his singular peer, whose calloused palm of porcelain absentmindedly shepherded the boy to the acreage meadow before her domain.
"Eros," Gabriella apathetically murmured, eyes cast of virulent emerald superlatively positioned atop the youth's atramentous aphotic heterochromatic eyes that now incomprehensibly shimmered amidst the moon's intermittent light.
"Ye-" Eros started, his left pupil veiled by a cowl of waken glow scintillating with a nebulous pink, bringing forth translucent parchment solely scrutinised by him.
{Name: Gabriella Ebba}
{Age: 17}
{Race: Human}
{Ability: Enhancement}
{Love: 70%}
'I'm close,' The youth inwardly stammered, his anterior drawl of approval mutilated and mangled mid-utterance by the halcyon mephitic beauty, whose eyes of petulant poison transparently blazed with a light of obstinacy so virulent that even the eternal valance of stygian failed to obscure their pageant.
"Fight me…tomorrow…please", Gabriella breathed, her mind disarrayed, tempestuous, inundated by myriad torrents of impassioned, ardent blood. Flesh anteriorly virgin, exalted upon the realm it walked, appeared reddened, perverted and profaned by emotions of regnant anonymity.
{+5 Affection (Gabriella Ebba)}
Still, before Eros could emancipate his instinctual answer, the cardinal saturnine speechlessness would find itself mutilated by the shrill, unmelodious, cacophonic throe of the unearthly, gothic monument. Steps hurried, delirious with unsung fever appeared bred by the dissonant choir, veiled by their execrable, bloodcurdling moans, without shadow nor embellished visage, Gabriella's figure dissipated abstracted from the plain upon which Eros resided.
'Is this ok?' The youth inwardly queried, twain palms of snow pressed atop the bulwark of chestnut bronze. He could have made a move, furthered the conversation with the girl, yet, he remained placid, indifferent to notions of desirous, fervid pursuance, for he had already crafted an apocryphal stratagem. To Eros, Gabriella would fall the moment they sparred, her every thought forced to focus upon his enchanting visage, her singular companion amidst her sequestered, neglected life. Still, the continuance to such hideous, pestiferous inquisition would be slaughtered by the abhorrent, nauseating loathsome cry of the burnished leviathan monument, which divorced the tandem realms, allowing the enthralling boy entry to Fiamma's conspicuous, Virgillian chamber.
Matriarchal nullity, a realm bereft of sentience, a forest of unbounded, immeasurable darkness, for neither candle flickered nor moonlight effulgence saturated. A monotonous soliloquy of cascading aqua anomalously played ad infinitum, its tone spasmodic yet paradoxically invariable. "Fiamma?" The youth vainly called, his right palm fulgurating with a gossamery, ethereal lambent orange conflagration. However, to Eros's call answered nought but the ceaseless blubber of ruinous clatter, the continuous cry of divergent water.
'She's still not back?' Eros inwardly murmured, his visage entwined amidst supertemporal threads of serpentine darkness, birthing steps of languid nightmare, ancestor to little more than a depraved tune impetuously consumed by the roaring cataract. 'It's long since past nightfall…what's going on,' The adolescent innocuously droned, cretinous, nascent to Fiamma's status.
Heterochromatic eyes refracted nil but quavering acquiescent orange, tenuous, ephemeral, continuously ravaged by the macrocosm of darkness upon which the youth presided. "When did the flames abate?" Eros instinctually stammered, for his anterior path singularly tread neath dawn's reverent luminescence lay homogeneously shepherded by myriad conflagrant plumes, antecedently eternal in their dance. Yet, now, they appeared slain, their cadavers uncelebrated, abstruse.
'Psyche…Psyche, are you there?' Eros luridly called, for his eyes rested lucidly atop a macabre carcass, desecrated by silken sheets, their monochrome colour raped by pigment of enervated orange, mangled and maimed did the bedding appear, sporting butchered fibroid veins that incomprehensibly draped the land, precedently slaughtered by the singular spectator.
'Psyche?' Eros further stammered, the fulgurating progenitor of orange sporadically ebbing, vanquished multitudinous times by the eternally encroaching caliginosity. Trembling hands faithlessly scoured the destitute realm, agnostic to notions of luminescence, Eros capriciously climbed, his mind inundated by calls of desirous companionship.
The boy didn't want to be alone.
And it was in the midst of such execrable, pusillanimous cry that Eros heard it, a muttering faint, empyrean, vaporous bearing stature susceptible to slaughter courtesy of even the most aerial zephyr, a tone malignant, virulent, defiled by notions of utmost eroticism. 'Darl-'
A moan, faint, asphyxiated mid utterance, still, such notion mattered not to the anomalous beguiling boy, for the singular sentiment lay unambiguous.
Eros was not alone…He would never be alone.
'When will Fiamma return?' Amidst such solace, a singular query bore dynasty regnant, yet, such inquiry appeared merely the moan of a dreaming boy, for the instant Eros's figure entwined itself inseverable betwixt the cataclysmal plain of silk did he lay comatose, abstracted, sundered to the absoluteness of reality.
Hours passed, yet the land lay secular to veneration of moonlit effulgence. Monotonous did the cascading aqua fall, heretofore incessant with their gasconade tempestuous throe. However, their dissonant choir would lay imminently assassinated, slaughtered by shrill, discordant, cacophonous disseverance, for burnished russet bronze disunited from a bed of mason, forebearer to a child of crimson.
Eyes of ruby mirrored a conflagrant sun. Leviathan did it brew, incandescently maiming the opaque obfuscous realm. Still, such an incandescent blaze appeared dwarfed by Gemini ruby mirrors, lucid with a transparent unconditional disquietude. Estuaries of cardinal flesh contaminated bedrock of alabaster, progeny to romance untold. "...Eros," The crimson-haired beauty called, yet, her tone appeared bereft of its antecedent impassioned fulgor, perverted, debauched by notions of unparalleled melancholy.
"...Eros," Fiamma murmured once more, her unglorified, undistinguished journey consummated atop sheets of silk, her posture languid, prolonged upon the plain upon which the variegated youth slumbered. Serpentine anfractuous hands amorously malignant embraced the dormant Eros, uncaring to the maroon cloth that sentineled his flesh. "I-I…I don't want to go," Yet, Fiamma did not breathe a sultry whisper, but instead, an obsessive lugubrious cry.
"I don't want to go. I don't want to go. They're trying to take me from you, my darling, my beloved Eros…you'll save me again, won't you? You'll find a way to stay by my side. After all, you're my hero." Fiamma whimpered, her voice intermittently cracking, collapsing neath multitudinous, incalculable plights. "We'll be together forever, my dearest attendant, even if they wish to send me to that faction." The girl continued, twain eyes ruby embraced by the domain of stygian, a null void of utmost, ascendant obsession.
"Why…Why did I have to attain this ability so soon? I hate it. I hate magic."