Kapitel 143: Dreamwalker

Beowulf shook. Everything was frozen in place: the birds overhead, the first light of dawn peeking over the horizon, the men and woman below, the children once giving chase to the other, the beer and ale sent fountaining into the air in cheer, now all stood frozen in a perpetual state of the now. 

It wasn't simply time dilation, Beowulf knew. It was something else. Something more profound than he could understand or wanted to. 

He shuddered a breath, taking half a step back, before he, too, fell to his knee. If his Devil was as such, then he dared not test the bounds of such a creature. 

 "Mother, I was not expecting you." Beuwulf's devil trembled to say. The term 'mother' was both foreign and familiar all at once. 

"Aranya…" The one who called her Lilith said, as much a statement as it was a question. 

"I am honored you know my name, Infernal Mother," Aranya explained.