The swamp-like location was quiet. Still. Patient, one would say. The waters were muddy, combined with the earth as the dirt sank down. The roots were like hands, clawing at the dirty water with absolute delicacy. The moss, flora, and fungi grew well, despite the shade casted down by the trees. The wafting humidity was almost immeasurable, with even the most bare-backed individuals coated in dripples of water without even making an inch into the forest. The stench, contrary to its ghastly sight, was almost enticing. A Strong aroma from the sweetness of nectar from the flora, mixed with the fresh fruit that few of the trees would grow. Such was the location for the next, and possibly last mission for the city, more than likely having to move somewhere else if one doesn't hold any patience for the next set of adventures. Zooming past the forest through one of his sigils, and nay holding a hint of wasting any precious time, would be the demonic child himself. He has his eyes glued onto the scenery, interested in its ominous, yet alluring shapes and tendrils that looked as if they drink the muddy waters.
His sights would quickly catch on the moment he sees what looked to be a large shape. Darting across the groves, he would see something vastly peculiar. Houses. Manors. Mansions, even. The buildings were built in a bizarre manner, their walls curved and bend with the roots that wrap around them. Their windows somehow being pristine and clean, despite the dirt that is coated across its stairs and porch. Their rooftops ruptured, with the roots digging deep within the inner workings of the manors. In a way, the very trees that grow in the earth are what created these houses, and it was in multiples. Some as big as the trees, which constitute more roots, yet some are nothing more than the size of small tents, where they are damaged considerable due to their size against nature itself. Zazel peered into each of these houses, curiosity filling in his mind. How was this possible? Who made it possible? How many considered this to be a proper living space? Was this location once a kingdom? If so....where has it gone? As the Demon continued to investigate these manors, he would notice one of them having a distinct color palette, despite said palette being just as dry as the bark that stabbed in their homes: Black and Red.
The demon took out a piece of paper that held the mission. Its details that are prevalent were where the mission was seemingly called into action for. The location? A Black and Red house in the Mangrove Graves.
This was it. This was the place. The boy lowered himself down from his own sigil and tried to enter the location. The entrance was jammed shut, with moss and vines growing alongside its edges. Zazel merely casted a sigil to create sharp knives upon the boy's hands. "Sabnock." He declared, as the sigil infused his body with such knives to cut away at the vines and moss, and would slam his body into the newly sheared doors to bust it down. With some force, some muscle, and a wind-up, the boy was able to break into the manor, albeit stumbling upon the floorboards. His sigil already dissipated before any further damages were caused, though as he looked up, he'd be amazed at such damages already being prevalent. The manor's insides look almost as natural as the area outside. He stared at the planks that were broken and had saplings grow from the house's wounds. He observed the ceilings and chandelier that hangs at its top encrusted in moss and vines. He explored the rooms inside the manor to see what other damages were left onto time.
A Kitchen with the sun gleaming down from the broken wall that was once a stove and kitchentop. A Child's Bedroom with toys being dusted and broken, as well as the stickers that were plastered upon the aqua walls being worn down. The dining room being a crater, with merely glass cabinets that holds a collection of books. The Bathroom which has their water completely drained, puffs of air being its evidence. A Cellar which was engrossed in greenery, almost inaccessible due to it being so deep in the earth. An attic which housed the aforementioned holes in its ceiling from the Mangrove trees. It was empty. Desolate. Nothing but remains as a whole. The demon kept looking around, opening cabinets and drawers to get a better sense of what was happening. Of what went wrong way back then. That was until a noise was heard. A near silent noise that Zazel was lucky to pick up on. The hinges of a door being slightly ajar.
Someone was here.
The Demon became defensive, sigils upon his hands as his eyes dart around the scene, looking for the person that entered the location. He backed himself upon a corner, preparing to blast a hole through it should he be outmatched by whatever creature comes before him. Sweat trickled down his head a bit, the stress being palpable. Where was it? Where was the figure who made that sound? Where is it?? This was the thought process of Zazel Cal'cul the more he became transfixed upon the problem, his face being evident of that, a scowl to represent his lack of coming at peace if it was an assailant at hand. What he did not expect however, whilst being unprepared, his shoulder would be tapped. Dead silent, with every fear imaginable, the demon slowly turned his head towards the source of whom touched him. His eyes wide open to see the figure responsible in question.
"Hi there! Are you lost?" Asked a young boy, with half of his body missing, and an empty eye socket.
The demonic child screamed bloody murder, his voice echoing across the entire grove, as well as a strong blast upon the side of the manor.