Ravana stood at a distance, and the man was built like something a mountain had spat out.
His upper body was bare, and crimson markings ran from the center of his chest out across one shoulder and down the length of his arm, glowing along the skin like cracks in something about to break open.
Two long black horns curved back off his head, thin as blades.
A heavy crimson cape hung from the one shoulder, and a black war kilt worked in gold covered him below the waist.
Around his neck sat a thick chain of large black prayer beads strung together with carved demon bone, so that he looked like a king and a devout worshipper standing in the same body.
He was still clapping, and the smile on him did not mean what a smile usually means. "Interesting. So this is why my name never once found a place in your heart."
"It was already occupied. By someone out of your own world, someone you never saw fit to mention to me."
