The meadow was something of great purity, he could tell by the way the light caught upon the green leaves of the earth-locked shrubs; their berries were plentiful, ripened by the holy gaze of the Lord, and the wandering boy took his time as he plotted his course. He stopped time and again when the allure of the bounty became too great to ignore, and he carefully plucked berries with delicate nips of his teeth; they were dark and soft, filled with lucious juices that turned his tongue a deep shade of purple and blackened his salt-and-pepper chin. They were not filling but, Gilead still enjoyed his time among the plants. He felt the warmth of the Lord upon his back, and soundlessly gave thanks.

Some of the less promising berries were left to drop against the soil. It may have been considered wasteful to any other creature, but the boy knew that his Lord would make the seed take root and bring life again; he continued to glut himself upon the berries until he felt nearly full, and pulled away with a deep sigh of contentment.

It was during this moment that Gilead spied a shape. At first it was a shadow — a blackness that marred his vision and made him think of ill omens, as all dark things were tainted things, but he had to put aside his superstitions. The stranger drew near, grazing as he had been, and then she spoke to him.

The words were meaningless to Gilead, who saw her for what she was — this dark thing, this tainted thing. A shadow made solid. He wondered if these berries were her only supper — but he saw no blood, nor any indication of foul play. If the demon were hungry then the boy would protect himself; however, she seemed only interested in conversation.

Nor have I, and that was the truth, for he had traveled a great distance and meadows were scarce from whence he came. His ears twisted at the sound of her name and he would have laughed, but there was a grim expression set upon his face that did not change. No demon would give their true name to a Lightbringer. She was a liar, but he would not be tricked.

From where do you come from? He kept his name safe, for there was power in names.

An apocalypse? He knew the term, but could not hear truth to what she spoke of. There was a tone to her words that gave him a moment of trepidation; however, the world as he knew it had not ended, so perhaps what she spoke of had yet to transpire. He felt neither apprehension nor fear when that thought struck him. The Lord would keep him safe, and all who followed the Light.

There was more to her story  but she wouldn't speak of it, and he would not ask. Gilead still doubted, for the only truth came from the Light — and Raas had not spoken to him in some time yet.

Unfortunate, he blithely said, but there was little feeling to the boy's tone. He was bored of the topic. But he was curious, too, of this demon. It was not often that he encountered those outside of his faith and especially rare to find a creature such as this in a holy place — and this meadow, with its glorious light, was indeed holy.

You should not be here, he murmured next, but there was no threat to his tone, it was just as lethargic as before. Hardly a warning; perhaps more of a promise. Perhaps your apocalypse will follow.

She spoke of gods, which further cemented his view of her as a creature of the Darkness. All of creation was a product of the Lord of Light; every life blessed by him, each identity created because he willed it. There were no others to contend with, save for the Darkness and it's many faces. To hear a stranger speak of gods — it was easy for Gilead to judge this girl as a heathen, and he was pleased to see her flee before him. Perhaps he would find her again once he'd amassed a flock, and their righteous fury would purify these darkened places.