~/Starter/ - @wrathsinned , @arcoathed ~
The Holy War, admittedly, held little interest for Zeldris: he’d initially, optimistically, used it as a way to prove his own strength. Taking out the Goddesses, and the other clan’s elites, had only fortified his talents as one the Demon King’s murderous sons. He had entered the depths of the war almost giddy to prove himself to his father, his brother, and to her. Years passed tainted in blood and dragging by the endless, now monotonous, battle: and though Zeldris would not admit it to his family, he nearly found himself longing for the end. He craved to reap the spoils of winning the war, and the freedom of being able to choose his life afterwards, and who he’d like to spend it with.
Who he’d like to spend it with, admittedly, was not Meliodas. While he admired his brother, longed to be like him, nearly worshiped his strength, he was not happy company to keep. Today would be different: instead of going into battle alongside his brother (or worse, training against him) their father had sent them both, as a pair, to represent the Demon clans interests against an upper-level Goddess representative. As always, they’d meet in the neutral territory of Brittania. There had been several of these “diplomacy” meetings throughout the years, and all ended in bloodshed or more anger. Zeldris prepared for that, again, today.
He eyed his brother now, trying to find a flicker of emotion in the dark, ever-stoic facade that was Meliodas. “The representative should be arriving soon, brother,” Zeldris notes, and instantly feels foolish, knowing Meliodas hates being told information he already knows. “Who do you believe will be meeting with us? An archangel? And why did father send us both… I’d believe one of us is enough for a meeting that I’m sure will accomplish nothing like the rest.” After that, he held his tongue. Too many questions only lead to his brother’s wrath.
he didn’t immediately respond. whether his silence was due to annoyance or apathy was something uncertain. perhaps it was both. perhaps it was neither. regardless, the emptiness hung in the chamber for longer than it was comfortable.
❛ it’s impossible to figure out what He’s thinking half the time. some might even say it’s presumptuous to even try. ❜ the demon king was regarded as god, after all━━ His will was absolute and His orders were to be unquestioned. any lesser demon would be called blasphemous for attempting to find rhyme or reason to His order. but, quite naturally, the sons of the demon king were a quite different breed to that of lesser demons━━ and the eldest son in particular had often found himself questioning the demands his Father set in place. was his dad secretly dense? perhaps some of His orders were built on a whim that lacked any proper intelligent reasoning. or perhaps the god-like demon really did have some grand plan that lesser creatures could not hope to understand. in truth, meliodas was not quite so fond of the idea of taking his Father’s place, but he was quite curious if the throne came along with aloof omnipotency or just the power to do whatever he’d want with no repercussions.
❛ it’s best not to question his decisions. and as for who we would be meeting with... ❜ his voice hushed in a whisper as his nose wrinkled in distaste. ❛ well, speak of the devil, perhaps. ❜ they were already coming forth.
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