Rutilus

No dragon could determine what Elotsh and Rutilus guarded. They were twins that worked at the Nexus Corporation. Often they were called Pride and Lust, but no dragon knew why. All day and night they stood guard outside of large, ornate bone doors. Not that the doors needed guarding. All dragons avoided that door. The hallway it was in was always cold and dark. Even though the twins never left, and never talked to anyone, they knew everyone’s name. It was a fun prank in the Nexus Organization to send new recruits to offer lunch to Pride and Lust. The latest members always came back spooked. As long as this didn’t interfere with the schedule, Nexus didn’t care. She was one of the few dragons not afraid of Lust or Pride. They didn’t obey her, but they seemed to respect her. There was a rumor that they weren’t dragons, but actually demons that looked liked dragons. No one was brave enough to ask Elotsh or Rutilus for the truth.

Elotsh and Rutilus.

Lust and pride. Pride and lust. They intertwine in strange yet oddly sensible ways. Pride is a texture, while lust is a color. Allow time for explantion.

Lust is the deep, inexcusable shade of the rose that you present to her. It's the color of her perfectly filed nails as she plucks it from your hand. It's the color painted onto her lips when she smiles. Lust is the whirl of dark brilliance that is her dress when she turns towards you, beckoning you to follow her away from the harsh light of the dance floor and into the welcome depths of somewhere secluded. Lust is the color that you swear you can see in her eyes in the moments when she thinks you're not looking at her. I do not have to name the color. If you are aquainted with lust, you will understand.

Pride is different, although no less infectious. Pride is the texture of freshly curled hair that bounces around shoulders in shining ringlets and the placid smugness that accompanies running one's freshly-manicured nails along the near-buried seam of a fur coat. Pride is the texture of an unnamable trinket, the culmination of every precious metal, every jewel desperately pulled from the earth.

Pride and lust are very different in presentation and in nature, yet chillingly similar in effect. Both infect. Both harm. Both can ruin, although pride's poison is slow while lust's is often unbearably quick. Both often work in silence. And, as a matter of fact, both work at an establishment known as the Nexus Organization and both guard a rather imposing set of double doors.

It's hardly as if the doors need guarding. Even without the unsettling presence of the twin dragons (use the term lightly, it's entirely unconfirmed), the hallway is barren in a distinctly unapologetic way. The marble floor is beautiful, in a lifeless, technical sense, but it sucks the warmth out of tails, feet and dragging wingtips. There is only ever just enough light to allow a diurnal entity to make out the looming shape of the double doors and a few of the hazy details of their architecture. Most dragons wouldn't set foot in the hallway without significant financial compensation. However, the Nexus Organization and the leader whose name it bears, have other ideas.

New recruits are often sent down the seemingly endless length of the hallway to deliver lunch to the guards. In recent times, one fainted, one turned around and ran, most came back thoroughly nervous and oddly paranoid and one didn't come back at all. His whereabouts are still unknown and the details surrounding his disappearance are quite unclear.

There was already a substantial amount of rumors circulating around and the disappearance only added fuel to the already blazing fire. Were the guards really Tundras? They seemed awfully big. Were they even dragons at all? The Organization's higher-ups haven't offered any answers and everyone is far too wary to ask the guards, themselves. After all, no one wants to be the next disappearance or the absent victim of the next batch of rumors.

Rutilus watches his twin question the spy they had caught. The little Fae snoop was skulking around the Nexus, trying to find evidence of medical malpractice he could expose to shut down the organization. Given the sheer number of lunatic scientists and mad doctors they house, it was simply a matter of time before the nosy dragon would find the proof she needed.

As if the twins would ever let that happen. Often unnoticed, they were the eyes and ears of the Nexus. Silent sentinels who kept watch over everyone and everything else.

And deadly when needed.

Elotsh is pacing around the terrified fae, who is bleeding from various stab wounds from his trident. His brother, demon of Pride, impeccably embodies this sin. He stands erect. Intimidating and arrogant, the epitome of confidence.

But useless.

His twin uses various intimidation tactics. He fires questions in rapid succession but the bound victim is too paralyzed with fear and pain for them to get anything useful out of her.

Rutilus mentally shakes his head. Twins though they may be, and though he would give his life to protect his brother in a heartbeat, there were simply things they did differently.

They were getting nowhere so Rutilus stands and lays a hand on his brother's shoulder. Elotsh's head snaps to him, ready to launch into an argument, sees the look in his brother's eyes and decides against it. With a disgusted snarl at the fae, Elotsh stands at the far corner of the chamber, glaring daggers at their captive.

Rutilus removes his mask. For what he was about to do, it was imperative that no obstruction covers his face. He positions his chair right in front of the victim. She was quite pretty, not unlike the ones he himself pursued. She is stubbornly refusing to look at him. Rather, her tear-streaked gaze is directed at the floor. He reaches out and lifts her chin with one finger to stare deeply into her eyes. She is shocked and automatically tries to drop her gaze, but not before she gets a glimpse of the sensuality behind his scarlet eyes. He senses, rather than feels, her heart rate increase.

Rutilus smirks. He has hardly begun, yet whether she knew it or not, she was already caught in his trap.

"What is your name?" His voice is enthralling, melodious. This is the first time the fae has heard it and as though drawn by a tantalizing power, her lips move against her will.

"Delphae." She looks surprised that she even answered. It seems impossible to her that she was able to withstand torture from the first brother but one question from this one and she was already giving up information! What was happening?

"It suits you." Again, that intoxicating voice. She shivers involuntarily. She'd never heard something so... so alluring. She wants to keep hearing that voice... Needs it.

Rutilus' eyes gleam in satisfaction. He knows his power is at work. Where his brother is the demon of Pride, he is the demon of Lust. No living being in Sornieth can resist his charms.

Especially not females.

This is where the difference is greatest between the brothers. Elotsh thrives in fear and force but Rutilus understands desire. Make a person want something that only you can provide and they'll fall all over themselves to please you.

And right now, pretty little Delphae is captivated by him.


It takes less than fifteen minutes to extract all the information they want from her. An invisible cloak of submission seems to have fallen over her shoulders. She answers willingly, eagerly even. Anything to get Rutilus to bestow her with one of his rare smiles.

Elotsh snorts in distaste. He's seen his brother work his power before. He finds it abhorrent. He wants people to dread his presence. To be feared and respected. Not looked upon in infatuation.

Disgusting.

But he can't deny its effectiveness. Elotsh stares silently as Rutilus produces a packet of herbs from his pocket. Another of Rutilus' little quirks that Elotsh doesn't quite get. His twin is fond of herbs, though Elotsh will never understand his fascination with them.

Rutilus grabs a glass of water, empties the contents of the packet into the liquid and gently swirls the glass to mix everything together. Then, he hands the glass to Delphae.

"What is it?" She asks, more curious than actually suspicious.

"Something that will make you feel good." Rutilus murmurs quietly.

She smiles, still under his thrall. She takes the glass and drains it. Almost instantaneously, a sensation of pure, unadulterated pleasure engulfs her entire being. An indescribable rapture. She is floating, flying. She feels so light, so free...

Rutilus watches her body crumble to the ground, lifeless. Death by pleasure. Isn't it simply magnificent? That final smile etched into her lovely face is reward enough for Rutilus.

Still, she was such a beauty. Too bad. But Nexus has made it quite clear that spies won't be tolerated. Their work was much too important here.

Elotsh revels in the glossy darkness of his fur, the sharp glimmer of his fangs. He admires the dance of the trident as it erases the existence of a foolish escapee. His footsteps are light and his mind is carefree, for he knows that no dragon can ever best him. The sin he carries is contagious; it spreads into the minds of his chosen, infecting them with a foolish sense of grandeur and overconfidence. It leads them to battles they cannot win and fates they cannot escape. Sometimes, in their final moments, they curse his name, but it is not his fault – he only opened the door.

He is pride.

Rutilus watches her as she dances on stars and offers her roses sweet like honey. She sips wine as red as blood, and a look is shared that belongs to only them. The sweetness is intoxicating. It seeps into every pore, a craving that makes the heart beat faster and world seem brighter. She would follow him to the end of the world, for he is the both the sun and moon. But he is not love, and should not be mistaken for such a pure emotion. Like so many others, he will cast her aside.

He is lust.

They are present in all worlds in one form or another. In this one, they take the form of dragons. Somehow, it is fitting. The glint of crimson eyes is commonplace here, as is the grinding of sharp teeth and the cutting edges of horns. There is something off about them, to be sure, but only an insane dragon would utter the forbidden truth: demons.

There is a dangerous allure to the two, something that draws you in and simultaneously tells you that something is very, very wrong. One glowers with a brandished weapon, while the other beckons with an endearing smile and seductive eyes. Like objects being drawn into a black hole, there is no escape from the cosmos within those eyes and the destruction once pulled in.

They are two sides of the same coin, two sins to tempt the heart and darken the spirit. They are different and yet the same, twins of unholy existence. But although they stain the world with their presence, the universe could not exist without them – for without temptation, would free will truly exist?

My tongue tastes every word I speak, relishing in the look of fear and allure that meets my eyes, "You came quite a long way to be here now. Say, what brings you to this door?"

The dragoness ducks her head and inches backwards, her feathered crest spread in panic.

Fool. My steps are the rhythm that your heart beats to. My voice is the aphrodisiac that makes you forget why you came here. My eyes are the burning embers that stir up the all-devouring passion hidden deep inside your mind.

You already realised that, didn't you?

"But why would you turn away now?", I ask quietly. "When you already walked all the way here…"

A dark shape stands behind her. She couldn't see it in the twilight even if she turned around, but I always know where my brother is. Always.

.

.

.

"What a surprise. You thought you could get past us, hm? Past me? How… adorable."

I show just a flash of my fanged grin as she swivels around, eyes wide with fear. Laughter bubbles up my throat and escapes into the air, the sound echoing through the dark corridor.

What a joke! Someone like her, trying to get through the doors?

"Poor, insolent creature!", I call out, still laughing. There's already the tip of a blade pressed to her throat; my blade. I am the fastest warrior here, by far. Who could ever hope that they could get past me? I am the glorious terror of hell; I see all that happens in this castle and beyond! Who could hope to best me? I am the terrible fury that you pray to and the shining, magnificent power that you bend your knee to!

What do I not have?

"Mercy," I snarl quietly, more to myself, as I thrust the trident forward.

"What a mess, brother," I hear as she falls. I smirk and nudge the cooling body with the tip of the blade. Blood pools on the dark floor. "I'll gladly leave the cleaning up to you."

Okay so obviously I had to pick Elotsh and Rutilus together. Not gonna lie, they give me the vibe like they are the two guards, sitting and the entrance to hell. And the will judge you for your deeds. I really like the combination of the polished trident with the rags. Really suits their whole guard/warrior vibe!