With toxicant throe of omniscient joyousness, Medusa proposed such innocuous query, the realm of cardinal quaking with every syllable progeny of twain pestilential mounds, ocean of blood lay ravaged, tempestuously uncouth, amaranthine, barbarous. Abandoned, degenerate waves excoriated Eros's anterior cloth of alabaster, suffusing, impregnating gossamery achromatic threads with aborted progeny of sanguine.
Destitute, a nugatory of silence did the heterochromatic adolescent ferment, his every action, every breath conjoined by toxicant plague, for collar of raped maroon slovenly spat upon the sea of red, its drool spasmodic, inharmonious yet paradoxically monotone. "I know nothing." Eros belatedly stammered, his mind inundated by myriad antecedently unascertained queries. "Or rather, I merely know the christened titles of banal trivia, but I remain cretinous to the meaning. Ascension…Monsters bearing the epithets of gods, God-kings, heroes, such epithets inundate my mind, torturous upon my every thought, yet, I know not what they herald." The variegated adolescent tumultuously breathed, dissonant eyes eternally unfocused, tempestuous afore the mountainous serpentine beauty, 'I want to know, I need to know.'
"Hmmm…And your virginal god lambently illuminated not elucidation afore such queries, but shawl of adumbrate shadow, forcing veil of cretinous nascency upon you…I understand," Medusa bewitchingly hissed, features boundlessly apathetic perennial before the variegated adolescent, "Ascension refers to the multitudinous tiers one apostle must rise. They are infinite, dispossessed of end, with every rank one attains a fragmented ability of their patron, ceaselessly coagulating before the apostle bears power akin to that of their predecessor. For recognised gods, one must accomplish and reduplicate the apocryphal feats that marked their presence among mortals, bearing denominated appellation of legend."
Such serpentine hiss ceaselessly lambasted the winsome adolescent's every conception, fecundating anteriorly stagnant thoughts with child of bodhi sagacity, 'So that's why Sarah had to slaughter all those attendants, wretchedly painting such bloodcurdling, execrable portrait, she was merely reenacting her god's mythos…though what sort of god demands such scene of omnipotent, depraved pestilence?' Eros absentmindedly gagged, twain mounds of flesh, deathlessly obscured, immeasurably lucid upon Medusa's anguishing martyrdom crucifixion.
"Nonetheless, afore us "Monster's" such folkloric paramountcy is an ominous nonexistence, neither bearing tales of preeminent transcendency nor throe of heroic declaration, we merely kill… you will kill… slaughter, desecrate, mangle and maim, paint the world crimson afore your rise! Eros, you now bear such prophesied, augural providence. With every beast you vitiate, Gemini will you ascend; however, such thirst cannot be quenched by those anaemic, enervate, tenuous of substance. Thou must pursue and hunt grander and grander beasts until one's vehement strength parallels mine, for the oracular, fatidical instant twain Medusae saunter upon this earth!" The deific, unhallowed, demoniacal gorgon whimsically bellowed, her breath abiding, indefatigable for statement of supererogatory toxicant pestiferously tainted the ensanguined realm.
"Such sentiment sojourns for those bearing neither distinction of monster nor legends to recount, gods unchronicled by mortal tapestry, for apostles exempt of folklore merely forge their own, ostentatious happenings synonymous with their epithet. I suspect your primaeval blessing bears such unascertained, uncelebrated fate…Now, are you ready to receive my blessing, to attain the title of apostle, or-"
"With your power, with your strength, would I be capable of defeating the apostle of Alcides?" The variegated adolescent innocuously queried, his words ominously cadaverously banal, destitute of their antecedent impassioned, melodramatic zealousness, heterochromatic eyes appeared nought but twin gems of onyx, nugatory of colour, but twin maddened stygian pearls.
"That name?! I know of it only because of an apocryphal history… so that repugnant, detestable brat blessed by Zeus, nought but vestigial entertainment for that perverted whore bore offspring. Pythonic, did he swear that name, the ostentatious epithet of his accursed bloodline. It depends on the vessel's tier. From the departed heroes present afore me, they singularly spouted of that fraud's ascendant strength, a power exponentially increased with every level ascertained." Medusa fervently stammered, twain mounds of poisoned pink pestiferous with a blight of malign deleterious hatred.
"Though if you wish to heed my judgement, I simply recommend avoiding any conflict, not out of pusillanimous terror, but the abhorrent damnation of the apostle's pantheon, if you were to injure the blessed child their wrath would be omniscient, your status as a pure soul would be manifest afore the upper echelons of reality, resulting in nought but our immoral, degenerate demise, though if you must battle, do not kill, if such fate presents itself we must run…I will do my best to protect you…for the sake of my sisters, it is paramount that you live," Medusa vehement in her every utterance regnantly riposted, her torturous form eerily lambent, bedded by a shawl of multitudinous, ensanguined matriarchal luminescence.
'Huh,' Eros belatedly stammered, heterochromatic eyes antecedently pervertedly planted upon the persecuted martyr's bedevilled visage subconsciously flinching, bulwarked by twain shields of flesh, destitute of sight, an anterior mirror to that of Medusa did the adolescent wail, cretinous to the harrowing scene afore him. Scales of vacuous, lusterless aureate lay debauched, evermore profaned by such cadaverous lurid light, eternally abraded, exposed flesh lay dormant, bedded by such heinous garish monochrome purple. Skin of ensanguined white bore fruit of execrable origin, infinite organs profusely bathing the world, pestiferously gnawed, progeny to the gluttonous phenomenon.
Boundless orbs coalesced atop the boy's vitiated, abandoned skin, inseminating, imbruing every orifice the boy possessed, his mind continually ignorant, unlettered to the prolific, consumptive conversation occurring amid the dregs of his soul, for the presence of the gorgon spied that of Psyche.
"Who are you? I can tell that the boy wasn't lying now. You indeed are a god, though your divinity is unfathomably dilute, omnipotently insipid. What pantheon do you emanate from?" Medusa serpentinely queried, her proposition attaining an answer of nought but vain dribble.
"My name is Psyche. As for what Pantheon birthed me, I know not. The only notion that commands both mine mind and heart is boundless love for Eros, do not mess with my beloved, for though my divinity may be weak, if you should harm a single hair upon his winsome head, I will have you killed~." Psyche amorously giggled, a paradoxical smile forced upon her vaporous visage as if indifferent, apathetic to the torturous threat anteriorly proposed.
"Y-You need not fret. I'd never dream of such a traitorous act. From the moment I blessed the boy with the presence of my sisters, I swore I'd protect him…protect them, and I will do everything in my dwindling power to do as such," The vaporous Medusa sovereignly stammered, her visage attaining anatomy ostentatious with every second spent amid the boy's soul. 'Psyche…I've never heard such epithet before,'