Patience was something the knight would say he had too much of. After remaining underwater, rotting beneath the waves for so long that the length of time became irrelevant, patience became his primary setting. He knew not if anyone would save him, and he knew not if he even wished to be saved then, yet when the links corroded completely, the knight still swam from the elder sea serpents lair at the sea floor. But somehow all of the patience he had built, faded in the anticipation of what would come.
Kanaft slowed down as the vague silhouette of the floating island, overgrown with dead foliage, became larger and larger, until, finally, it was so large that the bird had to start ascending to make it to the surface of the island, and to not run into the side of it. The knight was astonished for a moment. The island wasn't quite big enough to be considered of similar stature to one of the towering pines, but as he gazed at the shadowy figure they were getting closer to, he knew that it was comparable, at the least. It wasn't long before Kanaft found himself hovering above the island, and slowly, deliberately began to descend onto the surface below, that the knight himself could not see.
The slow flapping of his wings added a bit more to the melting pot of emotions brewing in the knight's empty stomach. Meeting one of God's vassals in the flesh was difficult. Having to kill the vassal before meeting it was the cherry on top. Gods weren't meant to die. How was he supposed to do that?
The stream of questions halted when the knight finally felt Kanaft connect with the surface of the island, settling nicely as he did.
"It is time, Elder."
It was indeed time, and the knight was not nearly as sane as he'd like to be when entering the presence of Lord Eos, but there wasn't much time to consider that. Somewhere far off from where he was, Shreifaya was rampaging, against the sky, killing everything in her sight. He was almost certain that she was grieving. Relationships can be complex, especially those with opposing views, and ideologies. He knew all too well. Shaking his head, he focused on the darkness in front of him, instead of thinking about the blinding light of white fire behind him, but the darkness was separated soon after.
Links of fire manifested around the pair, continuously going outward, circularly until they met again on the opposite side of the island. They then grew a little in intensity, before even more of these small flames appeared sporadically throughout the island, illuminating the dead land more and more with each flame that came into existence.
The ground looked barren in the warm colors of the flame. Dry, ugly, and even a little unsafe to stand on. Roots were strewed about haphazardly, all getting more and more common the closer they got to the center of the island, where a wall of petrified wood consumed his vision entirely. As the flames lit the zone, the cool wood seemed to spark a little, though for what reason, the knight did not know. The blackened bark was not dissimilar to the rest of the forest below, but there were some key differences.
The branches stretched far, unimpeded by a dense thicket of fellow giants, the tree was able to reach distances the lesser ones simply were incapable of, or at least that's what he assumed from the enormous silhouette he could vaguely see from his spot on Kanaft's back. Blinking, the knight looked about the slightly illuminated island and quickly got up to his feet. The tender feathers beneath his feet were warm to the touch as he slowly made his way to the bird's side, while Kanaft himself remained stationary. He was caught in a web of emotion that he hid from the knight, and their link. It was a private moment, and the knight knew it, but he couldn't help the curiosity. Glancing back at the bird face, the knight silently observed the stony expression on the bird. Sometimes the bird's eyes lit with curiosity, while others it was just a well of understanding–he still wasn't sure how the bird could do that, but it wasn't of concern at the moment. Perhaps he was considering something.
An oppressive sigh left his lungs, as he finally slid off the side of the bird's back, now arriving on solid ground again. The few moments of weightlessness he had as he descended to the surface were like a splash of water in the arid forest. The rushing wind was minor in comparison to the blaring winds as they flew to the sacred lands, and the darkness itself was not oppressive with power, as it had been before. There wasn't a wisp of power leaking from the sky, or the tree. It was odd, yet it wasn't wrong. Almost pleasant. Quite eerie, though.
When his feet arrived at the surface, he could feel the strength of the soil hold loosely. It wasn't that it would crumble beneath his feet, but it was simply weak. It was best not to jump too much. Within the same moment, a ball of fire ignited next to him, about the size of his head, hovering around him, like a planet in orbit.
"Let us continue forward. I'd like to see the sun soon."
With that, the bird made the first step forward with a step so quiet the knight almost didn't realize it was taken. Then another step. The knight kept up with a few more steps in between Kanaft's larger steps. The soil was just as dry as it looked. Cracks marred the uneven, unkempt terrain. It was discouraging to see, to say the least. There wasn't a blooming plant in sight. Life was a shattered mirror here.
"Is this what the forest floor looks like?"
"Yes."
The low crunch of the earth after each step from either of them was both soothing and alarming. They were in the silent presence of a slumbering god. It was the only sound. It wasn't long before the knight and bird duo found themselves in front of the tree. The island may have been large, but the enormous tree in the center of it, took up so much space upon the floating isle, that they took nearly no time at all arriving at the sickly looking trunk.
The heat was visible even in the darkness, conjuring strange illusions that the knight knew to be false. He had been surrounded by darkness for a long time, and despite the fear he held for it, and the creatures he knew lurked in them, he still knew they were incapable of hurting him, and that is what kept him moving through the heat.
The darkness laughed, and the heat gave beads of sweat that fell down the nape of his neck, right down the single scar. Now that he thought about it, why hadn't he been afraid before?
When he entered this forest, darkness was the last thing he could care about. The supposed young raven that had been hunting him, was more of a nuisance than anything else, but he still didn't have the time to consider the everlasting night. When he had time to digest where he was, and what was happening, he had already gained a light in the lake of hungry shadows. There had been one moment, when something dark, yet entirely blank had been staring at him. It was so large. And that feeling felt eerily similar to this feeling he had in gut when he stared at the tree. It wasn't when the flicker of Lord Eos had taken over his partner, it was right as they left the cavern of bark and wood. It felt… infinite. That was the only instant where the darkness truly looked at him. It had taken a breath, and only in the presence of Lord Eos, did he understand that.
That had been Darkness itself. Darkness didn't show itself often, but even in his day, it wasn't unheard of for an omnipresent gaze to suddenly consume a mind, sending them to insanity not long after. Sadly, he was incapable of losing his mind from something so trivial. It would've made those tiresome years so much easier. Leading his meandering thoughts back to the topic at hand, the knight looked at the large trunk in front of him with wondrous curiosity.
"Now that we're here, Kanaft, how are we going to end the life of a god? The only vassal I've heard of dying was the first winged beast, Lord Yufir, and Lord Eos is far more unkillable." His low hum sizzled as the words left his mouth. There was no one around, and there was no wind rushing through his, or his partner's ears, either, so he resumed the more natural of his two forms of communication.
"Father is the only phoenix, and is known for rebirthing himself from his own ashes, yet he does not burn, therefore he cannot turn to ash. But I believe you already know the answer."
That was indeed true. He did know exactly how he was supposed to end the life of a god, and that was with the help of–
A single, doubtful key rang sprung outward from across the darkness. Which was followed by another hazy sound, a little lighter than the one prior. A dozen sounds followed, a clamorous piece of music played on that haunting instrument that was in the possession of a single four-armed creature he had met once, and seen thrice. Death had arrived, just as Lord Eos had said he would.
There was no ominous wind, or chill. Not even the shattered reality they had met for the first time. There was only the hum of a melodious depression. He could feel the vapor of steam slowly rise into the air from wherever The Guidance was playing from. It was almost soothing to know that Death was lurking in the depths of the darkness around him, compared to the true form of darkness watching him–or rather them.
Kanaft jumped a little from the sudden consecutive chimes, and took a few moments to recompose himself. He had only seen the Guidance one time, and that was in the heat of battle, too. There was a warmth then, an enhancement, but now, there was no warmth of strength, just a detached melody that seemed as reassuring as it was foreboding.
"Guidance…Lord Eos told me you can save him from his slumber… what must I do to assist you, Death." The chime shifted, and the world–it began to rot.