Vasile long held a fondness for sunsets. No matter what colours joined the dance of a star dying upon the horizon, whenever he watched for its final breath of the day a poppy red ribbon always held the stage to itself just before the darkness came to claim the sky. That last gasp of life upon a dancing ribbon reminded him who he was. It reminded him what he would still become.
That desperate grip to life praying for the ecstacy of release that would never come was something even the day star could not escape in his presence. There was something ancient and hungry within him. Something of immense power and immeasurable age. Something which once threatened to devour him but now lay gasping beneath the heel of his boot. For even ancient powers cower from their nightmares. And that was a gift all his own. In time all nightmares would whisper Vasile’s name in hopes he may bring them life. But his gift would bind these aberrations to him. The more real they became, the stronger their addiction to the bestowals of an old god’s essence would grow. The old thing would regret it’s choice of willing vessel. Crushed by the irony that a taste its vigor was all this simple being needed to bring even the eternal to fall beneath his step.
All that tasted the boons of life Vasile offered would grow to crave more. Praying and wishing the euphoria his endowments promised would final pay in full. Even if they knew that what he offered would only keep them upon the edge of that razor for as long as he deemed them worth his covenant, the simple whispers of “But you’re different” “You are something special” would be enough to sell themselves whatever lie they must to indulge again. Be they mortal or god.
Once he could finally break the Life Giver’s spine his presence would grow until it became encompassing to all that ever were and ever would be. Then he would break the world and build reality anew.
If only he could discover the final piece to this eon long puzzle. He had already spent 600 years in pursuit of it. He would gladly spend 600 more . . .











