The Creators Ch. 07

Book Two: The Temptation Game

Chapter Seven: Mother

DIAMOND

For eighteen years, the world was darkness, but I had no sight to witness it. The world was small, but no vastness shrank its perspective. The world was warm, and no cold could pierce my comfort. The world was her, and I knew her to me my mother. She was the thumping heart that gave me life, the intimate warmth that embraced me, the encasing walls that protected me. She was the cord that fed me, the womb that molded me, the voice that spoke to me. The voice was a whisper in my mind, a tingling along my spine, a soothing caress through the growing chaos of thought. I grew and became, filled the space with my mind and body, existed as one with her until something suddenly changed. A piece of me that had not been there in my long incubation, another half of me that gave me independence from the mind that had made me. For the first time in my eighteen years of life, I heard words.

You are my daughter, Mother whispered, my first of another, and you will be my joy in this world.

The voice spoke of joy, and I felt it swell boundlessly. The voice spoke of trust, and its resolve strengthened me. The voice spoke of love, and I told the voice I already knew it.

You are love, I said to the voice, knowing it to be true in the purest sense. Love was the comforting warmth that surrounded me, love was the heartbeat that assured me I wasn't alone, love was the life that I grew into, that I would never depart from. Love was this eternal bond of mother and daughter.

For now, I am your love, the voice chuckled, but you will find that your love cannot be held by just me. You are different from the others I have made.

There are more than just you and I? I asked, awed by the revelation. Where are they?

There is a world beyond the one you grow from, Mother said. Too vast to explore in a thousand lifetimes, and too deep to even scratch the surface of. Upon the world, live billions.

Billions was not a thing I knew, so Mother taught me numbers. The numbers themselves meant nothing, so Mother gave them perspective. My world of primal emotion expanded to one of material and concept. Space and stars, earth and sky, rocks and plants, beasts and people; Mother planted perspective into my mind, and from it, sprouted the stalks of wonder. My curiosity was a ravenous thing, and each hungry question that was sated only spurred an appetite for more. Mother was an enthusiastic enabler, and fed my dependency with her immense breadth of histories and stories, facts and theories. I learned the processes of logic, the histories of man, the mechanisms of the stars and the cycles of the earth. The painting of knowledge changed from abstract, to impressionist, to realism, but it was only a portrait of understanding; I needed to sculpt it with my own hands.

When can I join the world? I asked Mother.

When you are ready, child, Mother replied sweetly, her smile evident in the tone of her voice.

I'm ready now! I insisted eagerly. I want to see the cities and the mountains! I want to talk to people and love them all!

Patience is a concept you've never seemed to grasp.

When will I be ready? I asked, testing the strength of my growing body, pressing restlessly against the confines of Mother's womb.

Very soon, Mother said, calming me with her hushing whisper, easing my restlessness with the comfort of her warmth, there is someone very special I need to tell you about first.

The other? I asked. The one you said helped make me?

Yes, Mother said, let me tell you of her, while we still have time.

Mother spoke to me of the one called Father. She told me Father was full of love, and her love was a perfect thing. Mother told me that Father would love me as much as Mother did, because every part of me that came from Mother, also came from Father. I asked her what she meant by that, and she told me Father would explain it. It frustrated me that there were answers Mother would not give me, but it made my eagerness to meet Father grow. Father was a different perspective from which to teach, a different heart from which to love. I asked everything I could think of about Father, and Mother answered with equal enthusiasm, the tone of her voice telling me more about Father than her words ever could.

Then, her tone changed. The steady calming cadence of Mother's heart began to beat faster, louder; galloping instead of trotting, thundering instead of thumping as though accelerating to some horrible destination. I felt fear for the first time. It was an emotion as instinctual as love, and just as powerful. It compelled me to seek the warm places of comfort, but there was something wrong with those places now. I asked Mother what was happening, and she told me that Father was in great pain. I didn't understand pain; it was as foreign to me as fear had been until a moment ago. Father taught me her first lesson.

Mother's pain began to bleed through the cracks of her love, cutting through her voice like an off-key cello in a symphony, a dissonance marring the melody. Mother was supposed to be perfect and eternal; Mother wasn't supposed to feel pain. I screamed to her, begging her to make it stop, desperate to return the world to what it was, to what it was supposed to be. She replied with fear in her voice, and it sung in discordance with her pain. It was a different kind of fear than the one that gripped me; more understanding, more experienced. It was horror. I felt it all around me as Mother's voice broke and shrieked, the soothing tenor shattered. I learned of death, and I learned of hate.

I hate Father! I cried. I hate her!

NO! Mother screamed back; the agony wretched in her throat. You will need each other when I am gone!

Gone?! I cried, the panic climbing my throat. Where are you going?

Beyond, Mother said, her voice waning.

No! I shrieked, pounding my fists helplessly. No, you can't!

I don't get to choose, she replied, a horrible resignation in her tone.

Don't go, I whimpered, feeling the womb growing hot around me. I don't want you to go.

I don't want to go either, Mother said, her voice changing horribly with every word, almost unrecognizable, but you will find that the world doesn't care too much for what we want.

Don't leave me alone with a monster, I said, tears coming down my cheeks for the first time.

She is no monster, Mother said, her tenor an octave lower than it should've been, she is your father. When you see her, you will know that you love her.

She doesn't love you, I sniffled, she hates you.

Hatred only ever comes from love. My last lesson to you, Child, is of forgiveness.

Her voice was a knife in my chest, a sob in my throat, a burning in my eye. It spoke of forgiveness, and I felt it rest solemnly in my gut. It spoke of acceptance, and I felt its melancholy dampen my mind. It spoke of love, and I understood its weight for the first time.

You will love your father, as I loved her, Mother barely said, and she will love you more than anything on this earth.

I will try to love her. I will try to forgive her.

No, child, Mother said sadly, I taught you forgiveness so that one day, you can forgive me.

But I—

My thoughts were interrupted by a vision, an intrusion that erupted in my mind. I viewed the world from the violet eyes of a succubus, born from this land and cast out in her youth. The image I saw was of a stone threshold, and the words I heard were of a name I couldn't quite understand.

Find the Life Giver, Mother's voice was almost too faint to hear, only he can undo what has been done. Forgive me, child; I wish I'd known your name.

Don't go! Not yet!

I curled into a ball, defiant in the face of Mother's expulsion, determined to remain with her to the end, unwilling to let her go. The tears pooled around my cheeks, the grief tore at my heart, the horror surged in my blood. The world was sweltering, melting around me, filling my eyes with smoke and my nostrils with the searing stink. What was once beautiful and comforting, was now ugly and dying. I clawed at the burning womb, searching for any vestiges of life, digging for hope in the depths of despair. And then... serenity. A calmness, a blissful acceptance.

Feel only my love as you walk the earth, Mother said, her voice as clear and beautiful as it had always been, and I will always be with you.

I was thrown from my dying world, and into the new one. White light blasted above me, great heat radiated around me, the universe was a torrent of chaos and sound. I felt hard earth beneath my feet, cold stones against my skin, free air sucking through my first, painful breaths. I coughed the life into my lungs as light and heat dissipated, and my vision refocused to the darkness of the world. There was another with me. A woman; fair of complexion, crimson of hair, bejeweled of flesh and bowed with grief. Father. I searched my heart for hate, but I could not find it. I searched my mind for grief, but it was no longer there. I searched the world for pain, but all I saw were wonders. Shapes in the dark, tangible and vivid, concealing more shapes with less detail, drawing endlessly into the shadows. At the center of them all, I found love again, and her name was Father. I took my first step, and walked the earth with Mother's promise in my heart.

"Father?" I called.

LUCILLA

The sun filtered through Arbortus's cathedralic canopy in emerald rays, catching the airborne pollen in luminous specs that danced lazily with the wind. The great black trunks of the maples acted as pillars for the immense confines, their branches creating archways that loomed for thousands of feet above the forested world. During the daytime, Passion's death could hardly be noticed in Arbortus. The lack of nighttime bioluminescence was a stark signal that the womb of the forest had passed, but the daylight signs were subtler. The wilting of a flower that was in season, the falling of a massive maple leaf that was green with spring life, the hint of rot tanging the vernal air. Mostly, it was the quiet. The chirping of birds, the buzzing of insects, and the rustling of creatures in the brush were all dimmed to a subdued volume. The magic of the place was gone, and the eerie precursors of death lingered at its boundaries. I was glad to see the end of it.

Freydis paddled our canoe beneath the western entrance of Arbortus. It was as though I'd been pushed through some great threshold; the blue sky opened vast and uninterrupted above us, the sun shined its unfiltered warmth on my flesh, and the air was free and brisk. I grinned over at Julia, and caught a rare smile from my lover. She'd been in a dark mood for the past five days, but it looked to be brightening now that we were free of Arbortus's shadow. Diamond had been as peppy as Julia was dour, and her constant optimism and curiosity acted as an emotional counterweight to her guilt-ridden mother. She gawked wide-eyed at the open spaces of the world, entranced by how high the sky was, amazed by how far she could see across the great plains of Drastinar. Behind me, Freydis was grinning to herself, undoubtedly glad to see the naked sky, while in front of me, Flora was scowling for the same reasons. She looked at the vast horizons with disdain on her lips, and the hint of fear in her eyes. The arch-matriarch had begrudgingly agreed to join us on our trip to Drastin, though it wasn't like she had a choice; she would have been executed on the spot if she'd returned to the colony after what Julia had done. It was easy to tell she hated every single one of us, but she didn't vocalize her disdain. She didn't vocalize anything.

That night, I enjoyed the warmth of a campfire for the first time in weeks. Freydis, Julia and I ate trout from a nearby stream, Flora nibbled on various grasses that I doubted were edible for anyone but nymphs and cows, and Diamond drank from her mother's breast. It was bizarre to see a newborn adult nursing from a mother her own age, but ever since I'd bound with Julia, weird shit had become the norm. All I had to do was look at my own body, tattooed with glowing white flames from foot to neck to realize that.

"Your Grace," Freydis said to Flora from across the fire, "I don't want to burden you with more concerns than you already have, but I have information you need to know."

Flora stared hard at Freydis from across the fire, her lips working like she had a novel's worth of insults she wanted to spew. Instead, she just nodded. Freydis looked to me, her eyes questioning, and I gave her the 'OK' with a nod of my own. Freydis had sworn her vows to me, but Julia had refused them, thinking her supposed holiness to be blasphemy. I could tell Freydis felt rejected, but she didn't insist further.

"Almost three weeks ago, my daughter left Iona to find the Earth Former," Freydis said, staring seriously at Flora. "When I heard of her foolishness, I raced after her, only to find that she'd succeeded. I've been searching for her ever since she left, and during my journey I... well, there's no good way to say this, so I'll just say it. The Earth Former has levelled your colony in Tentigo. He sheared the side of a nearby hill and buried every soul."

Flora shook her head. "The Earth Former is dead," Flora replied coldly. "You are mistaken. It was a landslide."

"The Earth Former is alive, Your Grace," I said, staring confusedly at Flora. "I've seen the evidence he's left behind, as has Freydis."

"Carvings and statues that could only be made by one man," Freydis said, narrowing her eyes at Flora. "Why would you think he's dead?"

"She's dead," Flora said, her jaw working.

"The Earth Former is a man," Freydis said slowly, "he's left signals of his... masculinity atop the Gratoran Wall."

Flora opened her mouth, and then closed it, shaking her head and muttering something under her breath. She obviously didn't believe a word we were saying, and her avid insistence was confusing. Crazy old bitch.

JULIA

"Julia," Lucilla hissed in my ear, nestling her naked body against mine in our makeshift sleeping bag. "Julia, is Diamond asleep?"

"Yes," I whispered back, affectionately brushing scarlet hair behind my daughter's black antler, "and no, we're not having sex."

"Why not?" Lucilla whined quietly. "It's been almost two weeks now, and I have needs!"

"I am not having sex right next to my sleeping daughter!" I hissed as Lucilla got a little too touchy.

"That's fine with me," Lucilla said, her breasts pillowing warmly against my back, her lips tickling my ear. "We can go behind the bushes, we can go against a tree, we can fuck right on top of Freydis if it means you'll finally let me play with your new plumbing!"

"No," I said, scooching stubbornly away from Lucilla. Lucilla let out an exasperated sigh, and rolled away from me.

"This isn't about Diamond;" Lucilla whispered, "this is about Passion."

"Yes," I whispered back.

"Did you love her?" Lucilla asked quietly.

"Yes," I replied, feeling a lump in my throat, "it was a lie, but the feelings were real."

"More than me?"

"No," I said, rolling to face her, but only seeing the back of her head, "just differently."

Lucilla didn't answer me. She hunched her shoulders, pulled up the blanket, and curled herself away. I chewed on my lip, contemplating how I could tell her, how I could say what I was feeling. I'd spent my life being the shoulder Lucilla could cry on, and I felt like she owed me a moment on hers.

"I hate what she made me," I whispered to Lucilla, the lump in my throat growing larger. Lucilla rolled over and looked at me, her eyes reflecting the soft glow of the patterns that illuminated from her flesh.

"I don't," Lucilla whispered, "I hate everything about Passion, but what she left of you is a gift."

"I feel like an abomination," I hissed, "and it makes me ashamed, because that means I think Diamond is an abomination too."

Lucilla pulled me close, not lustily, but lovingly. She embraced me in her soft warmth, and kissed my forehead, brushing my hair tenderly behind a pointed ear as I nuzzled my face into her neck.

"You're so beautiful, Julia," Lucilla spoke softly into my ear. "The things that happened to you were terrible, but you rose from them like a phoenix from the ashes."

"The ashes of a woman I murdered."

"Goddamn my bad metaphors," Lucilla chuckled sadly.

"I am made of sin," I hissed. "I've deformed myself for lust and vanity. I should cut it off."

"Please don't do that. What would Diamond think if you mutilated yourself? Should she grab a knife and do the same?"

"Don't act like you care for her sake," I laughed bitterly. "You just want a ride on my deformity."

"That's true," Lucilla chuckled, petting my hair soothingly, whispering tenderly, "but I really do care about Diamond, and I love you too much to let you do something you'll regret. Where in the bible does it say growing a cock is a sin?"

"Desecration of your own flesh is a sin, and I've done that in spades."

"Have you?" Lucilla whispered. "No tattoos, no piercings, no self-made scars. Everything new is made from you. It seems to me, that removing your wonderful addition would be the very sin you're trying to avoid."

"That's some twisted logic," I sniffled.

"I think it's actually more grounded than yours," Lucilla smiled sadly. "You are killing yourself with guilt, Julia, and if you don't pull yourself out of it, it's going to hurt those you love."

"It always does," I whispered. "It never hurts who it should; not me."

"You're only hurting you," Lucilla said, pulling me deeper. "The dead don't feel your pain. They don't care that you're torturing yourself for their sakes."

"Only through pain can we heal. If I don't suffer, then I'm a monster."

"You've suffered enough," Lucilla hushed calmly, bringing my crying cheek to hers.

"I can't just let it go."

"No, you can't," Lucilla said, kissing my neck, "and you shouldn't; you should hold on to it, embrace it, make it who you are. Accept and love what you've become, and let the wounds heal to scars."

"How can I accept that I'm a murderer?" I hissed "How can I accept what I've done to myself?"

"I can accept that you're a murderer," Lucilla whispered. "I can accept that you've changed. You're a different Julia than the one who left us that night, but you're still the woman I love. It won't be easy, but I'll teach you to love yourself. Diamond will help me, and little by little, day by day, you'll find that you're not so bad after all."

LUCILLA

I rolled into leaves and grass, the blanket tightening as it coiled around me in my catatonic shifts. I slowly awoke to the smell of dawn air, the gentle sounds of morning wind, and the sight of a tarantula's fangs inches from my face. I bolted upright, squirming uselessly in the soft constraints of my bedding, cursing mother nature with every breath as I thrashed away from the hairy spider. I was so fucking done with sleeping outside. I was ready to proclaim my sentiments to the group, when I noticed that I was the only one awake. Freydis slept soundly in her armor, her axe within arm's reach, Flora snored in a bed of leaves, and Diamond... well, apparently Diamond and Julia were both having very good dreams. I stared transfixed at the throbbing rods standing happily in the air; one olive-toned, the other white, both surrounded by the sparking freckles that bejeweled the pair of women, and replaced mounds of pubic hair with highlighting down-pointed arrows. I licked my lips, and contemplated just how mad Julia would be if I simply... hopped on. Would she consider it rape, or could I convince her otherwise with the motion of my hips? Maybe if I just gave it a lick? Just one, innocent lick. I'm sorry, Julia; I was having a dream about eating ice-cream, and then I woke up, and wouldn't you know it?