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To say that Grendel had been surprised by his Mother's sudden "appearance" at the vampire party was an understatement. Stunned would have been far more apt. She had swept in and out and in one smooth motion nearly put an end to his own evening's plans. Her brand of chaos combined with a dramatic flair had those who attended the little soiree all abuzz.

He had become a sidenote. Her presence promised something stronger.

It was that promise that Grendel feared.

It was not difficult for the relatively young God to figure out her location. What was unfortunate for him was that she was exactly where he did not want to go. He approached his Father's temple with no small amount of trepidation. From where he stood, he attempted to reach out to her, not willing to go inside.


Lilith

It did not take long for him to get a reply, but along with it came a burst of colour that was all at once overwhelming and awful. Luckily, he braced himself for her particular brand of dramatics,

You could have just said 'flower garden'. His voice lashed back in reply.

She could probably tell that he was a little on edge. He was sure she could also imagine why.

Taking a step forward, the God vanished from his place in front of the temple, only to appear just where his mother had told him to go. He scanned the thorny bushes and brambles, moving to where he thought he could sense her.

At every turn, the garden felt increasingly more inaccessible. The devilish thorns seemed to reach out toward him, and he had half a mind to tear them asunder so he could get to wherever his mother was hiding. Luckily, that wouldn't be necessary, as a path suddenly began to open, and Grendel pressed forward, determined to get this little meeting over with and out of the way.

As he stood at the end of the path, he took in his mother with wariness, both in his eyes and in how he held himself. There was a certain aura of tension surrounding him, thick but with the thrum of an underlying current, like the calm before a storm.

She seemed so small to him. Smaller than he remembered. Slowly, he approached her through the field of roses, their cloying scent hanging heavy in the air.

"Lilith" He greeted her, with a cordial nod of his head. There would be no hugs or laughter. This was not a happy reunion. He cocked his head slightly at the words, the imagery, that assaulted him. He recognized it for what it was, a compliment of sorts, though he could have done without the metaphor.

"It's funny how that happens when it's allowed room to grow, in peace." His voice filled the space between them, a deep growl that reverberated from his chest.

"Can I expect a pruning soon?

His mother's behaviour was to be as cryptic as always, it seemed. He had hoped that she would at least shed the flower metaphor, as he was already growing tired of it, and of trying to decipher what she meant. In one moment it felt like she could be praising him and in the next weighing him down with critical judgment.

"The darkness is where vampires thrive, Lilith. It makes sense that their god should as well." He continued to watch her carefully but at least began to move closer, feet falling softly upon the path through the roses.

He stopped when she spoke again, grinding sharp teeth to keep from speaking up before she was finished. He waited, eyes like the darkest red wine boring into hers. There was something in how she looked at him that was unfamiliar, and distinctly off. He didn't trust it and therefore felt that he couldn't trust her.

But that seemed to be what she wanted. Or at least, partially akin to what she had said. Fear and distrust went hand in hand, and for Grendel, anger came as second nature, as easy as stealing a mortal's last dying breath.

How will you move past your suffering? Can you?

There was a time when he knew that answer to be no. He would not move past it. He would have held onto it until it all but consumed him whole. But now...

"I already am."

He listened to his Mother as she continued to speak to him in riddles, never quite seeming to get to the point. Words of essence, and of some metaphorical beast. He pushed it all aside because she did not know him. Caine did not know him. In his mind, they both had tried to shove him into a box, to keep him contained, to make him whatever they wanted him to be. Caine gave his commands, and Grendel answered without pause. Caine spoke of his disapproval, and Grendel shouldered it and carried on. Caine threw one of his little tantrums, and Grendel bore the heavy brunt of that, feeling always like one day, it would be too much. One day he would not be able to bear the weight of it anymore. One day, he would crumble.

And Lilith...All she ever did was watch it happen. She was just as guilty, in his mind.

But then she said something that did catch his attention. A jolt went through him at the words. 'How empty the night if only darkness. Without the light of the stars or moon. We wander in circles. Lost.' It stirred within him a faint feeling of nostalgia. Was it a memory? So familiar, and yet...

He shook his head, dismissing it. It was just more of her nonsense. He had come here to find out if his dear Father had awakened, and he was sure if he'd had, he would have felt the God's mighty ire by now. If all she wanted to do was attempt to shame him (because to him, that is how this entire exchange felt) then they were finished here.

And yet, something still held him in place after he answered her question. Perhaps he was waiting for his own satisfaction? To see the look on her face when she realized both she and Caine had failed, and that he was fine?

But that isn't what he saw. Instead, he saw something change in her. A look in the eyes that was softer, and again he was struck with that familiarity that he chose not to see. He took another step forward, his brow furrowing. "Mother?" He questioned, not calling her Lilith this time, but Mother.

'Good'. He stopped, staring at her, before attention turned to the rose in her hand and how it began to distort, smoke, and burn. He watched as it withered away to a blackened husk, petals sifting away and falling. He watched, and he could not look away, because he was seeing something that he did not understand, and it wasn't until she said his name that he blinked in surprise and looked back to her face, eyes locking with hers.

'Help me burn this place to the ground.'

At first, he could still only look at her, unsure, unable to quite bring himself to believe that she was being genuine, that what she was doing wasn't just a trap. There was something there in her eyes though, he saw it, something that made a smile curl up his lips as his eyes narrowed.

"Gladly."

There was something about the way she held herself, in the power that she wielded, that made the God feel more powerful himself. It was as though the demonstration of her abilities and the force of her reckoning resounded deep within Grendel, opening him wide and bursting free a potential that had been previously locked away. He suddenly felt stronger and more capable than he ever felt before.

And he was more than ready to use that power to burn this place to the ground.

Flames reflected in eyes that bled to black, as an unnatural deep red flame licked along his fingers, spreading to the palms of his hands. While Lilith tapped into her own rage and indignation, he took to the task at hand, jaw set. Fire from his hands scoured along the ground, engulfing all that came within its path, disintegrating the garden into nothing more than blackened ash. So entranced by his task, he did not even notice at first what else his mother was doing, though when her screams turned from something unbridled and feral to that of pain. He turned to look, smelling blood before seeing what caused it.

If he was in any way shocked by her self-mutilation, it did not show, not even for a second. He understood why she had done it. The tentacles were never a symbol of anything more than Caine's power and possession over her. The fact that she was taking back that power filled him with something he had never felt for his mother before; Pride. His face lifted, lips turning up into a smile that bared sharp teeth.

He turned back towards the garden, slowly letting his gaze rake over the destruction. Everything was either ablaze or already burned away.

But it wasn't enough.

Lilith had come to stand beside him and he glanced at her before walking away. She could follow if she wished, he would not stop her, and might even welcome the company. He strode through what still lingered of the flames, feet moving through ash, darkening his already grey fur darker still, and whisps of it landed in his red hair like snow.

He moved toward the temple, to his childhood home, the resting place of Caine himself.

May it be his final one.

The ground had begun to shake beneath his feet, the sounds of stone grating against stone a cacophony that filled the air. It didn't appear on the surface as though Grendel were doing anything, though the flames that engulfed his hands had quite suddenly turned black and the smile he had offered his mother had turned to a sneer directed towards those stark, temple walls. This place had brought back a mixture of emotions, shame and agony, and subservience among them, but predominantly and strongest still was fury.

He let it overcome all else, to burn through him, and as it grew so did the force of unseen power that he flexed, the one that pummeled against those stone walls and quaked the ground beneath them, until pieces and large blocks alike began to fall. No longer did Grendel fear that his father would awaken. Let him. Let him see what his kin and progeny truly thought of him.

The walls began to crumble, to fall and cascade inwards, more rapidly by the moment.

Caine would be sleeping somewhere far below, unharmed by the destruction, but now buried beneath the rubble. His temple was destroyed. His domain would soon be wrested away by a son who had given so much to try and be what his Father had wanted.

It still was not enough, but it was a start.