The Chalice of Desire

He was Ophanim, he served as the Sword of The Somnolent. He stood head and shoulders among all other Angels. His shadow cast the judgement of the sinful, dragging them into the screaming maw of The Crucible on the tip of his spear.   When that beacon of sin, Desire, arose, He rose in defiance against her. With his most trusted Kin he descended upon her palace, intending to bring back her head for the Glory of The Somnolent.   Unlike the Angels, Desire and her minions did not need to sleep. One by one, each Angel was seized, wings torn asunder and halos broken.   He was spared, much to our everlasting grief, and Desire forged him into something horrible, a fiend from his own nightmares.   His one body is two spinning halos, the outer of amethyst and the inner of emerald. He has two heads, with one eating the other and both marked by many eyes, though not as many eyes as adorn his halo. Desire's blood boiled in the chalice that was his crown, and seven wings held him aloft.   When his crown is tipped, and the one head opens its mouth to reveal another, and the blood pours out, it will not stop. It calls forth the armories of the countless Angels he has cast into the dream, twisting them into something resembling a body. A headdress of knives spills from he head, and all glows in the light of his corrupt halo. He kills without regret, though tears of blood roll from his eyes and has not Slept in so long he has forgotten how to Dream.   Do not hate him, my Kin, pity him.   -The Somme of Ophanim, The Chalice


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