The Creators Ch. 03

"Willowbud?" I asked, fear tinging my words. Willowbud stayed motionless for a moment longer, and then rolled languidly to her side. The whites of her eyes were pitch-black with Corruption. They stared lazily at me, as though I were a mere passing interest, but their regard was seeped in danger. She smiled, and the nonchalant grin that stretched across her lips was as threatening as the glare of her green irises. Despair sunk its weight into my stomach, and I slumped on the ground. Willowbud had lost.

"Why the long face, Astrid?" Willowbud laughed easily as she stretched herself, cracking her neck and rolling her shoulders.

"Corruption has you," I whimpered, feeling helpless. "You've melded with her."

"I have," Willowbud said, closing her eyes as she stretched her back, "but Corruption doesn't own me, Astrid; she just makes me... more of myself."

"Not the things that make you a person."

"Are you saying I'm no longer a person?" Willowbud chuckled with a raised eyebrow.

"You're no longer you." I whispered. Willowbud seemed to consider that for a moment. She cocked her head and stared at the night sky, looking at the stars through the remnants of smoke.

"It occurs to me," Willowbud mused, studying the constellations, "that I made Corruption spare you so that you could eventually save me from her."

"How did you kill her before? Tell me, and I'll help you do it now!"

"I killed my father," Willowbud said nonchalantly, as though she were speaking of the weather. "He searched for me for thirteen years, and when he found me, I fucked his brains out, and slit his throat."

I gaped at Willowbud, but she just smiled back.

"I guess it stirred a little guilt in me," Willowbud said, "and Corruption can't handle guilt. She tried to convince me not to care, but it didn't work for her. I began to resist her, I began to defy her, and eventually, I cast her from myself."

"So..." I said, my voice hushed, "...you... you have to kill me, to save yourself?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Willowbud laughed. "I don't care nearly enough to feel guilty about murdering you!"

That hit me like a ton of bricks. My face dropped in rejection, and my shoulders slumped even more. Of course, I thought, a tear streaking down my cheek, why would I think otherwise? One day of passion doesn't kindle love; I'm an idiot.

"Oh..." Willowbud groaned in mock consolation, "...you didn't think I actually gave a shit about you, did you? This must sting."

"Yes," I said, feeling tears burning my eyes, "it does."

Willowbud stood up and sauntered over to me. Her gait was exaggerated in its sultry nature; each step shifting a hip with lascivious grace, each motion advertising the pleasure and pain she could offer. She had changed so much. She stopped in front of my kneeling form, and beckoned my crying face to look up with a gentle hand on my chin.

"Am I still your god, Astrid?" Willowbud asked, her black eyes gleaming, her smirk crooked.

"Yes," I said through falling tears, "always."

"I know that I insisted you treat me as your equal," Willowbud said, brushing away my tears with her thumb, "but I think we'll change that. You are not my equal, Astrid; you are shit."

"Yes," I said, feeling numb. I had failed her. I had failed her, and I deserved this.

"I believe you have oaths to speak," Willowbud said, trailing her caressing hand possessively along my cheek, and to my neck, "oaths that I so rudely interrupted when we first met."

"Great Earth Former, goddess of mountains and rock; I am not worthy." I whispered, the tears falling freely again. "As a winged-warrior of Iona, it is my sworn duty to serve you. I have oaths I must speak to you, and hope that you accept them. I am your sword, I am your shield, I am your armor. I am your watcher in the night, I am your wings in the morning. I am your—"

"You are my whore, Astrid," Willowbud interrupted, her words a soft whisper, her hand wrapping around my throat. "You are my beast of burden, you are my toy when I want to play, and my slave when I want to work. Say it."

"I am your whore," I said through hushed sobs, "I am your beast of burden. I am your toy when you want to play, I am your slave when you want to work."

"Good," Willowbud chuckled, her hand leaving my throat, and trailing leeringly down my bust, "you said it with such conviction, but you couldn't possibly have meant it. That's fine for now; there will be time enough for you to learn."

Willowbud bent until our eyes were level. I averted my gaze, no longer sure if I should prostrate reverently, or look her in the eye. I had a feeling that I would be punished no matter what I did. As if on cue, the back of Willowbud's hand crashed into the side of my face. I spun to the ground, and lay still, uncertain if I should cower for her, or stoically accept my punishment.

"I understand that the dramatic change in our relationship is jarring," Willowbud said from above, "but we should always see things eye-to-eye. I can't trust someone afraid to hold my gaze; it makes me wonder what they're hiding from me."

She stepped over me, and then straddled across my torso. She reached forward, and caressed the red mark she'd left on my cheek. Somehow, her gentleness was more frightening than her violence, and she knew it. She grinned as I cringed away from her, and then she leaned forward, and planted a closed-lip kiss on my lips. Our eyes didn't shut in the kiss, but connected above our pressing lips. Hers gleamed with the power she had over me, and mine quivered for the same reasons.

"It would have been a mercy to let Corruption have you," Willowbud whispered, her lips pulling from my mouth. "It would have been so much easier for you. You would have broken willingly, enthusiastically even, but that's no fun for me."

"What do you want from me?" I hissed.

"We're going to play a game, you and I," she smiled, tracing her thumb about my trembling lips, "your goal is to save me from Corruption, and my goal is to turn you into the whore you swore to be. I am going to do things to you, Astrid; things you couldn't imagine. In time, you may find you enjoy these things. In time, you might beg me to do them to you. I can't wait to see what you become."

"I will save you, Willowbud," I said, swallowing my fear, "I will play your game, and I will win."

"I like the confidence," Willowbud smirked, "but Astrid, if you ever call me by my name again, I will brand your fat ass with a hot iron."

"Yes, Your Holiness," I replied weakly.

"'Master' will do nicely," Master said, standing up, "or 'Mistress,' if you feel like it. We're going to Drastin now, and I don't really feel like having to explain my divinity to every swinging dick that overhears us."

"Drastin?" I asked quietly, "Now?"

"Yes, now, you dumb bitch!" Mistress laughed. "You think I want to spend another fucking night in the goddamn wilderness?! I need the smell of a city, the teeming, churning mess of people living in debauched misery. I've been absent for too long, and that town just ain't the same without me. I'll introduce you to some old friends of mine; you'll love 'em, trust me. Well, maybe not," Willowbud chuckled, "but they'll definitely love you."

I got to my feet, trembling from all that had transpired, and what was going to transpire. I picked up the rope, and began tying the harness together, my shaking fingers defying me with every knot.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Mistress asked.

"Getting your harness ready, Mistress," I said, keeping my head bowed.

"I'm not riding in that fucking thing!" Mistress laughed, "You're my beast of burden, Astrid, my flying-fucking-donkey, and I'm riding you barebacked. Now, turn that pretty ass around and get on your knees, or I'm buying spurs the moment we land in Drastin."

I turned around and got on my knees, and Mistress hopped on my back and gave me an 'encouraging' kick in the flank. I spread my wings, and launched us into the sky. Mistress sat astride my lower back, occasionally smacking me in the ass to direct my flight, sometimes digging her heels into my ribs. Four hours later, the distant sprawl of torchlight marked the massive human capital on the horizon. Despite her brutish nature during the trip, I was not relieved for it to be over. Mistress had grand plans for me, and they were to be realized within the dark corners of this beastly city. I was terrified, exhausted and sore, but I still held a flame of resolve. I had a mission now. The mission might break me, might corrupt me, might twist and change me, but I was determined to complete it. I would save Mistress from Corruption, and return Willowbud to this world. She was my god, my purpose, and my love. I had failed all of my oaths, but I would not fail this one.

Excerpt from Arbitrus Gen's Journal, Chapter Eight, Page Ninety-three:

My relationship with the Earth Former of my time is quite well-documented. Droktin and I grew up as adversarial friends. We had dreams of creating a grand world together. He carved out the city of his namesake from the desert floor, and I volunteered to light its furnace. The city of Droktinar would have been a monument of progress and cooperation, but it was not to be. Allegiance does strange and terrible things to people. I have stated again and again that Creators are not gods, and they are not, but that is not to say that they should be modest with their gifts. God herself deigned to give them to us, so why would we listen to the precepts of emperors and kings? Ultimately, I chose not to light the furnace of Droktinar, and historians point to that as the beginning of the rift that formed between me and my friend. They are wrong, of course. I had implored Droktin to renounce his allegiance to the empire and balance the scales of civilization. Time and time again, he would not listen to me, and so bit by bit, our friendship frayed.

If you must know, the true breaking point came years after my famous refusal. It came when I went on my pilgrimage to Hektinar. At the time, the steel city was the grandest metropolis in the world, and the beating heart of the orc empire. That was where the Life Giver, Furok, lived. He had been ensconced in secret research at the university there, and he wanted to show me what they had discovered. The orcs had brought in several Tethered Ones to assist them—most notably Perception and Wisdom, but Furok assured me that they were being kept in the dark. As foolish as Furok was, at least he had the sense not to trust Tethered Ones that he himself had not tied. In my opinion, that was the extent of his wisdom. Furok introduced me to his lead scientist: a manic incubus incapable of morals. The incubus showed me what they had found. What they had unearthed were lies; lies so dangerous, lies so profoundly evil that their very utterance would throw the world into chaos. I will not say what I saw, but I will tell you this: those in pursuit of knowledge—those so-called scientists—will go to any length to discover what they deem the truth. Any lengths. Furok and Droktin were so bold as to lay claim to their own divinity—something I would never do—but even they bowed their heads to the gods of science who sinned behind their high shining walls. I vividly remember the moment. I turned away from the incubus, and stared Droktin in the eyes.

"Do you believe this?" I asked him.

"Of course," he said. "It is the truth."

That was when I knew I should've been paying attention. That was when I knew I had wasted away precious years in my sinful romance. The Creators had committed the greatest crime they could, and in the space of a heartbeat, my friends had become my enemies. I knew what would happen, and I knew I couldn't stop it.