Chapter 5: Cletus....(2

Moving away from his face, one would notice that the bone mask continued all the way until where his started from. But unlike his eyes, his hair was not that impressive, apart from being long, there was nothing impressive about it. It was just black in color and plainly black at that.

And yet the feeling one got while looking at it, was expectation. You did not have to know what you were expecting but you would become expectant the moment you set your eyes on it. It was like a blank black canvas. 

Well, this person looked weird at first glance, but if you took a second look at him, you notice that this was a young man who looked to be around sixteen years old. Yet even then, his height alone was an anomaly. It's like he refused to be confined to the expectations of age of the mundane.

As he moved in the halls, at first you would not be able to tell that there was a black viscous haze on his back that occupied his whole back side. Almost looking like a dark cloak that did not separate from his body. It made him seem more mysterious especially when tied with his otherwise aboral look.

The same expectation one would get when looking at his hair would be the same one would get when looking at this haze, almost like as if it was heralding the coming of something momentous.

But just like the abyss in his eyes, the haze was just as deep if not deeper. Prolonged looking at it would put you in a continuous cycle of madness. It is like the feeling you would get if you were a zealous mortal worshipping your god, but this god did not bother to even spare a glance your way. And yet you would find yourself unable to stop. 

Then one would ask themselves, who was this young man that illicit such feelings. But you need not ask.

 If you listened closely, you could hear the walls sing his name, you could hear the spirits of those whose souls were condemned to this accursed temple chant his name. Listen well for the wails of the sky, the roars of the wind and the agony of the Nameless world, sing his name.

"Erebus Styx Sychar...." 

Upon mention of his unholy name, the world would lose order and chaos would reign supreme. Thegods would lose their majesty and the skies would lose their fervor.

But funny enough or luckily enough, he himself could not hear his own name for he was not yet worthy of it. 

And so, he went by a more mundane name.

Kean Cletus...

At this moment Kean moved through the dark halls of this abandoned temple seemingly having a goal in mind. 

He moved until he reached an open area that seemed to have been built as the center of the temple. It looked like a place that was dedicated solely for the celebration of feasts.

The temple priest of then would hold feasts in this place, believing that their gods were among them. Enjoying their perverse sense of what a sacrifice should be.

Now this place had none of the grandeur and sick sense of majesty it once held.

It was built in such a way that had there been a moon in the sky, its light would fall from the firmament and pour onto the large table that was without equal. Its size alone was a wonder of how much would or stone would have been required to fashion it. Its setting would have been enough to hold almost a hundred people with space to spare. 

But currently this grand table only had fifteen grand chairs. Thirteen were currently occupied. 

Its occupants appeared to be children of varying ages and colors, but they all had something common. They were extremely frail almost as if the life in them had been taken out them, or for better comparison, they looked to have been born prematurely affecting their body's development.

At the moment these malnourished children were so excited as if in wait for something. They chatted so loudly and wildly almost like savages.

Suddenly a gruff masculine voice sounded at the table.

"Enough with the noise you mutts." The voice would have scared any typical child to the point of wetting themselves because it was cold and bloodcurdling. 

The twelve children looked to the source of the voice. The owner of the voice happened to be a young man who looked to be around the age of twenty. He sat at the south end of the extremely large table in a grandiose chair, the chair seemed to be the one the chief priest used to sit in whenever the sacrificial feast was held.

The young man had a wild and bloody aura that hang around him like a fog. It made him ferocious and especially if you also considered the beast hides, he was wearing on his body. The hides were covered in dried blood and some flesh from who knows where. 

At this moment the young bloody man was growling at the kids who were chatting wildly.

But it seemed that fate would decree that his attempts would fall on a brick wall, for in the next moment, one of the young boys among the twelve kids stood on his chair, and with strength that seemed impossible for his frail body. He threw an excessively designed fork. The fork flew with unmatched speed and hit the young man squarely in his face with a bang.

" Ughh...." the young man groaned from the pain. 

But the boy who threw it did not seem to be done yet, for he gathered energy from his poor body and yelled in a challenging voice at the young man, "You are not in charge here.... only big brother Kean tells us what to do. Hmph"

Then like as if he was their hero, the other children sung praises for the boy who was slightly out of breath from exerting so much energy. But it seemed he did not want to let go of his moment of glory and so he placed a smug look on his face to taunt the young man.

The young man in question chuckled quietly, he knew this would happen but a little self-sacrifice, just to make his siblings happy was not much at all and he would even do worse things just to make sure, that they were happy everyday of their lives.

Just like the way he trusted the unknown entity that was Kean Cletus and let him into their lives. He was terrified once but the entity did well for them and things that were seemingly impossible. And now, every day they could enjoy heartwarming meals like this every day and have a few laughs in between. For without him his siblings might have died in the womb of their mother's corpse.