And all men are from the ground, and Adam was created of earth: Ecclesiasticus 33:10
Worshiped as Deimos to the Greeks. Adamus to the Romans. He has now taken the moniker, Drake. For he is from whom all others are made.
Anna opened her eyes and the first thing she saw were curtains of pink wisteria hanging over her. She looked down to see a woman with snow white hair staring solemnly. She sighed and propped herself against the thick stump of the tree. Then she closed her eyes.
“Anna?” the woman repeated.
Irene stood at the base of the tree, hands resting on her hips. She wore a scorn and tapped her foot against the moss covered ground. Beside her stood a small marble fountain filled with water so clear it resembled a mirror if you looked into it. Locusts called for their mates in the distance and more Wisteria trees surrounded them in a brilliant array of purple, white, and red. A firm mountain made its home just beyond the fields to the west, shrouded by mist and its peak capped by snow.
Anna ignored her, but she could feel Irene’s gaze looming over her. Then her pearl necklace pulsated. She scoffed and turned to Irene.
Irene formed a smile. Strung around her neck rested another necklace of black pearls as dark as charcoal. She wore a thin red toga that wrapped around her neck and left her back bare. Anna’s was much the same though its color resembled the snow that covered the mountain. Her legs dangled from the tree’s branch and she brushed through her hair, that was kissed by fire. Though some would argue more like blood.
“Do you think Drake will be okay?” Irene asked, her voice as soft as a kiss.
Anna couldn’t help but grin. She looked to the white sun that basked them with its luminous rays.
“I don’t know…” She paused and jumped down. “But one thing is irrefutable. Drake wields the scythe, Acheron. He’ll find a way. He always does…”
She joined Irene at the fountain, and they leaned over to gaze into its waters. Anna stirred the water with her fingers and waited for the waters to dissipate. As the ripples cleared, they saw a man standing on the platform of a train station. Accompanying him was a woman who wore a pearl necklace much like theirs. Her hair was the color of leaves bathing in the sun…
“It won’t be easy for them,” Irene said with a frown. “That girl… Will she be able to wield Styx? The bow only chooses one who is worthy.”
Anna shook her head, her amber eyes glared. “All we can do is wait for him. Like we always have, right?”
Irene chuckled. They continued to gaze into the fountain as a fierce gale scattered wisteria around them in a beautiful storm. Stray leaflets fell into the fountain and floated in it like tiny boats. Another gale untangled Anna’s bun and her hair fell, stopping at the base of her back. She clenched her heart and a tear fell.
“Irene? If love is just a word, then why does it hurt so much when you realize it’s not there?”