Alone figure trekked through the Gully, his white fur a stark contrast against the springtime green of fresh growth. He made notes of the herbs as he passed them, his face erupting into differing expressions of mirth and indifference as he mentally cataloged poisons, edible plants, the occasional recreational drug he happened across.

Until he came to a complete stop, frozen in time, beautifully upset as he stared down at wormwood. Although the God was now certain his daughter was here within these lands, somewhere hiding from him surely – he had yet to lay waste to all in an effort to reclaim her. The meeting of that deliciously intoxicating woman had borne a hole within him, and it needed to be filled. How dare she speak as though knew Absinth. That she could possibly understand the fires that had birthed his daughter – no. That had forged her into what she was. Setekh himself had ensured her suffering, so that she would grow strong, beautiful, intelligent, and forever his. All she had needed to do was wait for him, and she had not. Her first failed test. The ivory prince’s fingers raised to stroke the plant, a gentle gaze winning through his distressed visage.

And then he swatted it to the ground, stamping it under his foot. If you cannot have her, no one ever shall. Setekh’s lips, those inky and tantalizing things, cracked into a fearsome grin. Volcanic orbs burning intensely, at the crushed toxin – a foreshadowing of what he would do once he found His Absi. Horrid thing she was, making him feel such pain and emptiness.

He would find her. She would seek him out. It was inevitable. That girl would warn her of his presence, and Absinth would wager her options. She would find him all on her own.  If not because she truly wished to see him, and it had all been a delightful misunderstanding… but to lessen the punishment she was to receive regardless. Did she not know that? Was she not the intelligent creature he thought her to be? If that had ever been the case, she would have already been consumed by him, left to rot in shambles. But she does not rot, she has only fought! Fought love! This little reckless dove! He felt a shudder run down his spine, ivory fangs gritting as a wave of fury clashed with the calamity that was his self-control. Everything about losing Absinth had disrupted his thinking, his usual patterns.  She had been the first of his children to disobey him, after he had treated her so well. And yet, his mind had never been clearer in his years of life, all due to his obsessive goal. Regaining his composure, Setekh stooped to lap the wormwood from the ground, taking it into his jaws and chewing it up – swallowing it with a pleasurable groan. Tick tock, Artemisia absinthium. Do unto me what I will surely do unto you.

"He Speaks" | 'He Thinks' | The Madness

As the warm rays of the late spring sun shone through the meadow, Kiliaen's citrine orbs shimmered with anticipation. With delicate steps, she ventured deeper into the heart of Fern Gulley, her senses immediately overwhelmed by the vibrant symphony of nature's hues and fragrances. The air danced with a sweet and heady perfume, each breath filled with the intoxicating scents of countless flowers. Their blooms were an extravagant array of colors - fiery reds, sunny yellows, and soft pinks - that painted the landscape like a masterpiece. She paused, entranced by the sight of scarlet petals cascading down from above, mingling with golden blossoms that swayed gently in the caressing breeze. It was as if she had stepped into a secret garden overflowing with life and beauty. It was a haven- one that she loved. Kiliaen's sharp, discerning eyes swept over the lush foliage, the veins of silvery-white fur along her limbs glinting in the dappled sunlight. Each step was calculated and cautious, a testament to her keen instincts and awareness of the vibrant life surrounding her. Her innate curiosity beckoned her to delve into every hidden crevice and secret corner of this bustling natural kingdom.

Kiliaen walked with swift yet cautious steps through the verdant haven. Her innocent curiosity was tempered by a deep understanding of the fine line between helpful and harmful in this thriving green world. She took her time to study each plant, tracing their delicate contours with a gentle touch, inhaling their distinct aromas, and recalling what she knew in her knowledge of herbalism. Her mind carefully noted the subtle differences, the nuanced characteristics that defined medicinal implements from potential dangers. As she roamed, the sounds of life enveloped her— an orchestra of chirping birds, rustling leaves, and the gentle trickle of a nearby stream. The air was thick with the scent of earth and vitality. Her timid nature melted into the background, replaced by an insatiable desire to absorb every facet of this natural wonder. It was a place of endless possibilities, a sanctuary of perpetual learning and discovery that beckoned her to delve deeper into its mysteries.

Unbeknownst to her, an ivory shadow moved through the same haven with a stark contrast of intentions. His presence, an ominous and foreboding one- disrupted the tranquility Kiliaen reveled in though, she was too naive to tell. As he crushed the wormwood underfoot, a dark foreshadowing of his plans, Kiliaen's world continued to revolve around the beauty and life that surrounded her. Her tranquil exploration was interrupted only by the distant echoes of an unsettling groan, a sound that resonated with a disturbing pleasure. The citrine orbs, filled with warmth and curiosity, would soon catch sight of him- his stark frame easily spotted once in line of sight. It looked like he had just ingested something? Hmmmm .... Was this man ill? Did he need help? "Is everything alright?" She inquired lightly as she drew closer to a conversational distance.
"Kiliaen Ward."

His madness was interrupted, and rather pleasantly at that. A voice as sweet as honey, with eyes as orange as citrus. Setekh's molten eyes regarded Kiliaen with a mixture of curiosity and something more… methodical that lingered in the depths of his gaze. A low rumble escaped from deep within his chest, a greeting as he placed a furrow between his brows.

As Kiliaen drew nearer, the scent of her, the concern plastered on her face… it sent a tingle down his spine that collided with the turmoil within him. How could he possibly remain in ill spirits with such a beauty peering at him so warmly? He regarded her with a sidelong glance, his voice a gravelly whisper as he responded, "My apologies, lovely. I’ve just a little stomach-ache, nothing some agrimony could not solve." His words were calm, his gaze alight as he smiled at the woman. A perfectly soft filter over his gaze, he allowed himself a rove over her body - ah, but not too much. No, nothing too ravenous. His skull cocked to one side, and the man approached her with a slight disregard for personal space.

Setekh's form loomed over her, his presence casting a shadow that seemed to stretch beyond the physical. His gaze flickered to the tranquil surroundings that surrounded them, a quizzical look to him as he made a small show of realizing how close he had gotten to her and stepped back once. "I am very new to these lands," He mused, voice as gentle as a breeze. “Might you… have some information to help me get my bearings? I would much appreciate it." The God continued to watch her with an intensity that was manufactured to relay the importance of her answer, that only she could help him.

"He Speaks" | 'He Thinks' | The Madness