Stockholm city, abandoned park ca 2 AM last night
He wandered slowly through the darkness, a tall figure with a long trenchcoat dragging in the gravel beneth him. His hair long and light Brown, the wind gently playing with it as he moved. Even though it was night and the only light prescent a few dim streetlights with yellowish glow he wore sunglasses to hide his gaze. The ground was still soaked with the evenings rain and the air with its crisp, Fresh scent. As he had expected the park was free of mortals by this hour. This was the place they would meet.
As soon as he reached the heart of the park he stopped. It was a round meeting point surrounded by benched with a big fountain shaped like a swan with her chicks hiding under her wing like she was covering Them from the water sprinkling from her robust beak. He took of his left leather glove and with fingers glowing red hot against the darkness he traced a circle around him while chanting something with low huskey voice. The silence of the night was suddenly interrupted by a hizzing roar of the high wall of blue flame that arose as he completed the circle. Now he had protection. Nothing his father could try would threathen him now.
-’Argentino, my son.’
The dark, raw voice that seemingly came from nowhere was him all too familiar.
-’father’, he answered, his voice as neutral as he could muster. ’Appear before me!’
An ember red light cut violently through the air in the circle and a big figure stepped through. The man seemed to be middle age with raven black hair and a goatee, his skin sickly pale with an almost blueish undertone. His shoulders Looked unnaturally broad and you could sence his muscles swelling underneath his wine red suit. He took of his black sunglasses and the eyes revealed where pitch black without iris or pupil, only endless void. He straightened his black silk tie and cleared his voice.
’My father, the devil himself, litterally!’ He thought with bitterness. ’And the mortals love to complain about their relatives...... ,