The rain did not wash the stare from his eyes, and his walk was of the austere as he headed down the alleyway towards his lair in the depths of a vast cavernous well. It has been dry for many years and only now the rain that falls is not that of the acidic kind. This is what is left of the great decline of the great Christian times. He is not evil, he is not holy, nor is he of aristocratic status – there are none of those left. It is now survival of the fittest and he is fit and shrewd beyond his years. His deep brown eyes contain a glitter that can cool many a lonely night, as night sweats with that of condensated fear – fear from anything that can occur in a world gone mad.
It is known that his Mother bore him out of fire and she had the heart of a Red Dragon.
He uses her Aura when he needs a fix of the physical pleasures, and he needs them often. It is his walk that attracts them, it is his walk that makes him sought after and they are in his bed in a moment´s glance. He does not call them lovers, he does not call them conquests, they are his followers and they sit at his feet waiting for him to send his eyes their way. They come from many families and come from far and wide to grace him with their pleasures. They come of a forgotten Christian world, and Christian God, for him – to be in his salacious glances and with him in the joining of the flesh.
He walked into his lair and was pleased to be alone, as he would be able to dream; to dream of his Mother, the Red Dragon, and to feel of her and her scent. She came to him in times of wonderment and in times of strife and in times of cold heartache. He fell onto the bed, a bed he was given by a lonely woman who would give him her pleasure for only one night, to bear him a son, but she was murdered that very night post the exchanging of the flesh.
Haydan was a quiet man, a thinker, and no woman could see his thoughts. No one could see his torment, or his real and true need.
He was alone in this world of turmoil and grew more perplexed why he felt this way. He had many here to keep him in pleasure and much of the material to keep him in comfort, as well. He looked around at all the gifts that adorned his lair; there were rugs of tapestry, blankets and curtains in many hues of red. They were bestowed upon him with passion and he gave them a smile and a touch of his hand to their cheek. It would never erase from their hearts for Haydan was an easy man on the eyes. He was of the nighttime sensual kind with his smile and those velvet dark eyes. They wished to win his heart with their gifts and they wished him to
become theirs… Beyond the Moon…
He lay his heavy heart down on a pillow and stared at the concrete wall as he wondered where he might find her – the woman to withstand all the fighting and the woman who bears
his light.
He wondered, as his eyes grew heavy with slumbered attraction and retreat…
It is in a forest of the green he could find her, he could smell her scent… it was of the pines. 
He could feel her and hear her laughter there. He chased after her but where was she? Where was the Helen in the night? The great Light of Elijah that had forsaken him and mocks him in his dreams, it dangles her now to him…
where is she? Where is she, the Helen that would guide him as his beacon from her very soul? His soul was not that of a mortal and he knew this made him in fear for her life. He was afraid she would awaken and be afraid of the sun and of the water. This is what controls inner peace, of which he is not permitted.
Haydan catches a glimpse of her gown and it is in the shade of light. He is in awe of her, in great excitement and loss of breath when she is near.
Only when he slept did he see such a creature… but did he see her at all?
He knew he must go to the path to see who it would be coming calling in the dead of night, but he already knew. He could feel him there for it was fear personified: it was Jurien, his half brother and he was feared by many.
Jurien was born of the waters and he was as unforgiving as a tempestuous force to never be reckoned with. He was tall in stature and long on words with bite.
His skin was olive-tinged and his eyes were black as the night. His hair was that of long waves and when he walked it became his calling. Women feared him and they knew he would devour them on sight, and drown they did. He was a very learned young man of many faces and of many tongues. He invaded the library ruins on a frequent basis, was self-taught and so were those who wandered around with him.
His brother Haydan knew why he had come but he stood aside the open pathway and sighed with his hooded head down.
“Jurien how are you and welcome to my well.
What is it you ask of me today?”
Haydan never looked into his brother´s eyes for he knew if he did he would see the thousands there suffering inside. Jurien walked into the room as if he owned it. He looked all around and smiled as he kicked one of the blankets on the large velvet covered dinning room captain´s chair that was placed in front of the head of an unmatching black table. Jurien looked at his brother in beguilement and mockery.
“Tell me brother, are there seeds planted in your garden for procreation´s sake? And when will the seed be yours to conquer this realm?”
“I do not mean to take the children from them, Jurien. If they become with child it is theirs to keep and not mine to run with.” His head remained down and not only did he know his brother´s eyes, he knew Jurien knew his mind too.
“You would be happier, my brother, if you partook on the flesh as an offering instead of a ridiculous comforting ritual. Our Mother is dead, Haydan, when are you going to realize that and stop all this dreaming of a woman who will come from the Moon to whisk you up out into the open air into the sun?” Jurien´s words mocked Haydan as he laughed and flailed an arm into the open air in contempt.
“I come from the sun, Jurien. She can not grant me peace or absolution. I must make my own peace.”
“I know that and many can help you along the way, little brother, many can help you along the way. Stop this frivolous celestial soul search and come out, come up onto the surface where it is warm and be among the living.”
“The living? Is that what you are calling it now, Jurien? I am sorry, I do not make people be with me. I do not spend my time getting into people´s heads and making them love me.”
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