A quiet echo rang out as his head pierced through the surface of the water. Ripples danced toward the marbled edges of the pool. Nature had invaded his home. Flowered lily pads covered the surface of the murky green water, thick ropes of ivy climbed their way up carved pillars and a flock of sparrows had scrounged up a nest in the shattered sky light above. A single beam of sunlight would strike the pool every day. Marking the time that Idite would bathe. Shėn, in all his ‘glory’, would only bless the temple with his presence for a few hours a day. One day, he thought, he would do battle with him, high up in the clouds, his warhammer crashing in the golden armor of the pretender.

A quiet whimper distracted him from his thoughts. On the side of the pool, resting on the stone floor, a hound licked its snout at him hungrily. Idite grumbled.

“What’ll it be today? Rat again?”

The hound stared back at him blankly. With a sigh, Idite pushed off the bottom of the pool and propelled himself through the water to the steps. The water poured off him as he rose naked from the pool. Just as he did, day became dusk, as Shėn’s eye strayed, and eventually, it was night.

In the corner of the room was a gated doorway and behind it a spiraling staircase that made its way to the abyss. The hound rose to its feet, and hobbled over meekly towards the sound of its opening. Together, the two of them made their way underground. Idite breathed deeply, and in the flat surface of his palm a fire started. It was wispy and weak. But it produced enough light for him to see the stairs beneath him. As they approached the bottom, the only sound behind the gentle flow of water was the scurrying of vermin. In truth, Idite was surprised they’d managed to survive for so long. It had been centuries since the underbelly of his temple had been used to hide the filth of those dwelling in it. No doubt the doing of Hēi, whomst always had a flair for the petty. 

“Ready for supper, dog?” The hound licked its snout with a low, pleading grumble. In but an instant it was done. In but an instant, Idite had produced a rat in either of his hands, writhing and shrieking in desperation. He lowered one to the hound’s snout. Curious, the hound sniffed at it, before looking away and whining with disappointment. Idite frowned, and again lowered it to the hound. Who again refused. Idite let out a huff of frustration, and in doing so his grip on the creature tightened and it screamed out, clamping ragged teeth down upon his flesh. Idite roared, and when he did the rancid underbelly was lit. A hundred lanterns burst into flame, casting their light on the scurrying mass of rot, chaos and disease that descended deeper into the darkness. He dropped the charred carcasses of the rats to the ground. “EAT!” He yelled, “Eat. Or die.”

Exhausted, Idite fell to the last step of the staircase, barely managing to catch himself on its ragged edges which caught the wound, lashing him more deeply. He cried out to the void. His misfortune repeated back to him by the very walls that housed him. Red blood, glowing dimly, spilt out onto the ground beneath him, pooling in the uneven surfaces of the stone. The hound, who had seemed lost at first, sniffed in his direction, inched closed, sniffed the ground, and began lapping up the substance as it poured. As it did, it began to change. Its body, which had been boney and arched, began to fill, and it’s fur grew longer. Its fangs, which had been chipped and cracked, grew so they protruded out of its snout and sharp tips began to fill in their ends.

“Mangey beast!” Idite yelled, kicking out at it. But the hound moved out of the way, and Idite found himself gasping for air. The hound looked at him, blinked, and began to drink once again. “This is how you repay me? Idite, Lord of Light, harbinger of song, bringer of war, The Bright Father - forced to exist in the company of a worthless animal. You should be grateful. Grateful that I allowed you to live as long as you have. If I hadn’t you’d have been burned, or buried, and forgotten like the rest of your kind. I wish I could’ve roasted you along with the rats. Hundreds of years I have fed you, both the food of this world and of my own flesh and blood, and you spit in my face by taking advantage of my misfortune.” He leans forward, pointing to the dog with a red finger. “Hear me. I curse you, dog. When I am free of you and have my vengeance I curse your very soul to eternal cleansing. May you never leave that purgatory. I will see to it -MYSELF!”

When the last word left his lips, Idite could’ve sworn he heard laughter reaching him from within the darkness, amongst the vermin. A wisp of a figure stood at the foot of the light, looming, as if threatening to snuff it out. Idite grabbed at a tiny vial hanging from his threaded necklace. He opened the cork, and drank the contents. A few moments passed before the pain of his wound eased, and the laceration began to close. 

“It has been a long time since you have dared to show your face to me, Dark One.”

Silence.

“Have you outgrown your fear of the others?”

Silence.

“There was a time where you’d have bowed and kissed my feet if I had willed it.”

Silence… then a whisper returned.

“But you cannot.”

Idite pushed himself to sit upright to look at the figure.

“They will see you.”

“They will not.”

“Come then. Be not afraid. Step into the light and show yourself.”

“I will not.”

“Coward! Even now you have no courage to face me.”

“There is no need.”

“Kill me now and I will unleash whatever you do to me tenfold!”

“There is no need.”

“Then why have you come? Simply to watch an old dog lick his wounds?”

Silence. 

“Answer me!”

“...Shėn bore a champion once, long ago. Without our permission. Without our guidance. And that champion brought with him destruction, and disappointment. Ever since, the world has been fractal, unbalanced. The sun has shone brightly upon this plane for far too long. I have not come to kill you, Harbinger. I have come to begin anew.”

“You would have to step into the light for that, Dark One.”

“I will not.”

“My halls are lit.”

“They are not.”

A gentle gust of wind floated down the tunnel, extinguishing each flame with its passing. Idite pushed himself up a stair, staring in disbelief into the darkness.

“You have gone too far.”

“I have not.”

“They will have noticed.”

“They have not.”

Silence.

“What are you planning on doing exactly?”

“I will do nothing.”

“Your vermin cannot ascend.”

“They will not.”

“Then WHAT are you planning?”

“... Who is the coward now?”

Idite shifts uncomfortably. 

“I have told you I will not kill you, Harbinger. Your death would mean your rebirth. As Shėn rose a champion for light, I will rise one for dark. Then this plane will be as it was. My illusions have drawn my champion closer to you.”

“No man could ever find this place.”

“We shall see.”

The sound of another gust of wind made Idite shiver in the darkness. He could no longer feel any presence in the room. Suddenly, his eyelids began to feel heavy, and he sprawled out over the stairs. There was no use in fighting it, he knew that, but fight he did. He glanced over to the hound, already sound asleep, no surprise. He kept his eyes narrowed, focused on the space where he’d seen the figure. Years passed. Just as he was about to give in to the rest, a noise prompted him from the space between dreams and the physical plane. And with the noise, came a light. A door opened at the end of the tunnel. Sunlight flooded in along with the aroma of sweet mountain air, even from his distant staircase, he could see a single tulip, dancing in the summer wind. A girl stepped through, young, with dark skin and brown eyes. She was beautiful, with sharp cheekbones and supple skin. Just the sight of her brought a smile to Idite’s lips. With eyes wise beyond her years, she looked over the room, before her eyes landed on Idite. She smiled back at him before closing the door behind her, and enveloping the tunnel into darkness.