The Creators Ch. 12

"Julia isn't bound anymore," I said as I worked my fingers across Bianca's ruined shoulders, "but I am. I'm more powerful than she is, at least relative to what we were before." The skin stitched together across Bianca's back, youthful and radiant, smooth and perfect. When the last grotesque swath of red was closed, Bianca's stiff posture dropped in pure relief.

"Thank you, Your Holiness," Bianca gasped.

"No. Thank you, Bianca," I said softly. "I owe you everything." Bianca's cheeks flushed with equal parts pride and embarrassment. I knew the reason for the latter; Bianca's naked back was exposed to me, and though her breasts were hidden by the necklace she'd made of her shirt, the bottoms were evident, shadowing a midriff toned with muscle. I admitted guiltily to myself that I was more than curious about the coloration of her nipples, but I kept my desires concealed as best I could. Apparently not well enough, for Bianca's eyes caught mine. I expected her to immediately avert her gaze, mumble something, and walk away stiffly to distract herself with her duties, but she did the opposite. She kept her brown gaze fixed with mine, and she tentatively leaned back until she rested against me. When her weight was pressed to my chest, she let out a breath, and her body relaxed slightly, though I could still see the tension in her shoulders.

"I hope I am not overstepping, You Holiness," Bianca said quietly, "but I would very-much like it if you... put your hands upon me."

"Bianca, we talked about this," I frowned. "I won't let you sacrifice a lifetime of honor for a moment of weakness."

"I would like a massage," Bianca said, her voice shaking slightly. "There is nothing sexual about a massage, and if I may be so bold, I believe that I have earned it."

I could cut the sexual tension that raged in Bianca with a knife, but I didn't vocalize my incredulity. I placed my hands on her shoulders, and began gently kneading the tension within them. I parted the sticking sinew, pushed my healing power into the fibers, and slid the overlapping bunches of muscle from each other. Bianca melted against me, her breath becoming shallow and slow, her entire profile becoming languid.

"I have many questions, Your Holiness," Bianca muttered, the trace of a purr sliding from her full lips.

"About Angela?" I asked.

She nodded.

"Turns out, Diamond had gone to the astral plane, and given Angela her body to take care of."

Bianca went suddenly very stiff, her shoulders turning to iron beneath my squeezing palms. I remembered that Bianca had confided her salacious secret to the woman she thought was Diamond, and I cursed myself for being so untactful.

"I-I-I have a confession to m-m-make, Your Holiness!" Bianca stuttered. "Though it is undoubtedly belated, and y-y-you must already know, and think so little of m-m-m-me!"

"Shh," I said, trying to calm her with my massaging fingers. "I don't care that you've been curious, Bianca. There's no shame in it."

"Yes, there is," Bianca hissed. "I betrayed your trust, then I told another."

"No one can keep secrets from Angela," I chuckled. "Don't feel guilty about it."

"I'm so ashamed," Bianca muttered, her breath shaking.

"There's no room for that here," I scolded gently. "I'm fucking my own sister for god's sake; all you did was look through a window."

"I did much more than that, Your Holiness," Bianca whispered. "I am a wretched creature."

I sighed; there was no use arguing with her. Bianca shared Julia's need for repentance, but at least she didn't share her fetish for it. "I don't care if you flicked the bean, Bianca. Masturbation isn't against your codes anyway."

"I watched Julia penetrate you, and it aroused me to see you violated," Bianca hissed.

"I don't need to hear that..."

"Seeing a woman humble you made me want to be humbled by other women," Bianca continued relentlessly, her voice breaking.

"Sexuality's a spectrum, and all that. Now, let's just get your shirt back on and..."

"Astrid and Jade caught me. I could've fought them, I could've flown away, but I didn't. I... I let them have me," Bianca confessed a little too loudly for my liking. The Ofanians at the perimeter glanced backward at us, then in typical Ofanian fashion, they blushed and quickly averted their gaze when they saw the state of their High Guard. Half-naked and resting between my legs; it wasn't a good look.

"Your captains are probably getting the wrong idea," I grunted, trying to push Bianca upright.

"No, they're not," Bianca muttered, and a thrill ran up her spine, accompanying the deepening flush of her cheeks.

"What are you talking about?" I said, cautiously looking down at her.

"Her Eminence, Tera Autumnsong would tease me relentlessly, Your Holiness," Bianca said back, her voice wavering, but her eyes not. "When you were not watching, she would take great delight in making me uncomfortable, mostly about my feelings toward you."

"Bianca, stop," I said firmly.

"I do not mean to besmirch her memory," Bianca said softly. "I only mean to relay a piece of wisdom she gave me. She told me, 'Black Beauty, repression does something dark to a woman's desires. You will find that the very tool you use to guard your honor, will be the undoing of it.'" Bianca's breathing was fast on her lips. "And so it has come to pass for me, for my mind has twisted itself in horrendous knots, and I do not know what to do!"

"Bianca, what are you..." I trailed off, and looked at the position she'd put herself in. It must've been utterly humiliating for her to have her soldiers see her in such a comprising state. Absolutely... shameful. I had inadvertently done to Bianca what Willowbud had done to Astrid, and I hadn't even lifted a finger.

"I have always led by example," Bianca whispered, her brown irises topping her eyes, the pupils dilated with desire. "I have built my reputation painstakingly for decades, never making a misstep, always following the codes. Now, with Ofan on the doorstep of annihilation, I must lead my warriors to betray themselves."

"You need to repopulate," I muttered, the realization dawning in both of my heads.

"It is a great dishonor to have more than one child, but it must be done. We must forsake our oaths, and open our legs!" Bianca moaned the words now. "This generation of the Ofanian Guard will be a black mark on our history. We will be known as oath-breakers, revelers, and hedonists, no better than succubi! Our descendants will curse our names and the names they bear, for they will be the names of disgraceful whores!" Bianca spoke with a husky voice, each condemnation of herself and her people arousing her more until she was squirming with the pleasure of her own shame. Her hands clutched the grass, her back arched from me, and her wings spread wide, catching the setting sun. "We will give ourselves to you, if you so desire," Bianca's voice was dripping. "We will lay with men of your choosing if you wish to see us violated. We will lay with each other if you wish to see us violate each other. For we will be the disgraced generation," Bianca closed her eyes and licked her lips, "so we may as well fall all the way."

I was about to grant Bianca her wish, and give all of Towerhead and the Ofanian Guard a show, when a sound like thunder crashed through the hills.

Interlude Four: Heaven

PETRANUMEN

"With the help of civilization's greatest minds, Vitanimus and Joy created a window to the limbo between the astral and spiritual planes. They used concepts and formulas that had to be written in volumes so large they filled libraries, but from that torture of numbers, they cracked the code. I had been left out of this, for Joy and Vitanimus no longer trusted me. We would only meet when wearing the masks we indulged in, and through that medium, we made a mockery of the love we once had. When we parted, I was left wracked with the guilt of what I had done to our love, and soon, that guilt began to fester. I could not bear the feeling, and Corruption relieved me of it, so I began to wear Corruption even after my bouts with Vitanimus and Joy. Then I just never took it off. Our passions grew more perverse, devolving with our deteriorating relationship until blood had to be drawn for lust to be compelled. It was on one such occasion, when I was readying myself by chaining my arms and legs to a fireplace, that Vitanimus and Joy came to me in earnest.

"Take that off, Petranumen," Vitanimus said from across the hall.

"Strip me of it," I hissed, bending my body in an enticing manner. It had been millennia since I had seen him without a mask, and it disturbed me.

"Mother," Joy said, stepping forward, "enough of this."

"I do not know you, girl!" I growled at her. She stopped, then gulped, and turned back to her father.

"She is too far gone!" Joy insisted, though of what she spoke, I was ignorant.

"No," Vitanimus shook his head. "She's just trying to kill her pain. We abandoned her."

"She abandoned us!"

"Come over here and fuck me, you wretch!" I snarled from my binds. "I know what you really are! Give someone a mask, and they will show you their nature!"

"Is this who you are, Petranumen?" Vitanimus asked, stepping past our daughter, and stopping a foot away from me, "Or is it just who you think you are?"

"What else are we, but our self-perception?" I sneered.

"You're not just your darkness," Vitanimus said.

"We are all just our darkness," I growled. "You may cover it with lies, but not I! I know the truth. I still UNDERSTAND!"

My head dropped, and I heaved a great sob. Vitanimus's hand was on my cheek, and he tilted my face to be level with his. "I still understand, Petranumen; I never forgot. Take it off."

"I cannot," I muttered.

"She's too far gone, Father," Joy said. "She'll go mad if she removes it!"

"We cannot do it without her, Joy," Vitanimus said softly, cupping my cheek. "And even if she goes mad, I will love her all the more." He brought my face close to his, then planted a gentle kiss on my lips. Not the hedonistic devouring of our debauchery, nor a cordial peck, but a tender kiss, a promising kiss. It had been so long since I had tasted one. I let Corruption fall away, and I collapsed in Vitanimus's arms. He held me, then Joy tepidly did the same.

"What will you have of me?" I asked them.

They had found a way to conquer death. Vitanimus called the method 'tethering.' What you call 'binding' is just the tethering of a deific soul to a soul of great affinity—we call that affinity 'love.' Vitanimus could use the love a soul has for a soulless thing to prolong life indefinitely, and to bind something without a spirit to the spiritual plane."

My vision was filled with Diamond's soft features, her purple-backed emeralds staring softly into mine, her breath caressing my nostrils sweetly. I raised my hand between us, and she met it, then I interlocked our fingers, marveling at the delicacy of her touch. "The astral and physical planes were like this, you understand," I said. "Intertwined in trillions of different ways." I uncurled my fingers, and separated my hand from hers so that they hovered apart. "When the planes broke, they were like this. Parallel and unconnected, much like how the spiritual plane is." I laid my hand flat upon hers. "Vitanimus and Joy made it so the astral and physical planes are like this. Together, but not connected."

"How did Vitanimus make the worlds go from this," Diamond hovered her hand over mine, "to this?" She flattened our palms again.

"There is an astrological phenomenon—"

"A blood corona sliver," Diamond finished.

I nodded. "It happens every thousand years. The astral sun moves out of synch from its physical counterpart. Only for a few hours, but when it did, it formed a direct line between the physical plane and the spiritual plane without the astral plane between them. Some great cataclysm long ago had caused the temporary imbalance, perhaps the separation of the spiritual plane from the other two; we may never know. Vitanimus and Joy looked through the window during the time of a blood corona sliver, and they realized that the souls carried by their consciousness stayed in limbo when the sliver occurred. It was like something was stopping them from leaving."

"Why did they need you?"

"Vitanimus needed two people of immeasurable astral power for his plan to work. The opening of the spiritual plane allowed him to tether a line directly from the spiritual plane to the astral plane, to the physical world. One would have to be tethered from the spiritual plane to the astral plane, and the other would tether the astral and physical planes together. It would take a great connecting force to ensure that they would stay as they were."

"The astral sun," Diamond said, "but if Joy was a water Elemental, then how could she have any affinity for the sun? Fire is her opposite."

"Yes," I muttered, feeling my throat close again, "it was."

"Joy thought that the tether between the spiritual and astral plane was more crucial than the other. She did not trust me with the responsibility, so she took it upon herself. We realized long ago that we gained Elemental abilities when we donned new ideas. We just needed to find the idea that would give Joy a great affinity for fire. And what is fire, but the antithesis of water? We needed to find the antithesis of Joy. Given her namesake, you might think sadness is her opposite, but even if Joy were the exemplar of her title, you would be wrong. For sadness cannot exist without joy, nor joy without sadness, and bittersweet moments carry both. They are not opposites, but dependents. The same goes for love and hatred, and indeed, they are often just different steps on the same path. But hatred and joy run counter to each other, for hatred is void of joy, and joy is void of hatred. One cannot exist in your heart if the other is present, so Joy decided Hatred must be tried. I remember when she first put it on. It fit her so well.

"I'm not sure about this..." Joy muttered, staring at the red velvet hanging in the atrium. I dared not touch it.

"If I put that on, what would I become, I wonder?" Vitanimus mused, studying it. "Would the life I create become twisted and evil?"

"Would the rocks I form become jagged and treacherous?" I pondered.

"It is dangerous," Joy said. "Power, Corruption and Greed are terrible vices, but they are of desire. This... this is of loss. I fear it."

"You don't have to do it," I said, resting my hands upon her shoulders. She did not flinch like she had done so many times before, and I was glad. It had been a millennium since we'd last worn ideas and ravaged each other, and time had stitched the wounds. There were occasions when we caught ourselves eyeing each other, and indeed, Joy would sometimes don the cloak of Lust to sate her feminine needs with Vitanimus, but he would not take the mantle of Power, but of Passion. Yes, before your mother claimed it for herself, the man you know as 'Satan' was the first Passion. Their love was beautiful to witness, but I did not partake. I did not trust myself.

"We've tried Wrath and Madness already." Vitanimus sighed. "All of the 'fiery' emotions. Only Hatred is left."

"I can do this, Mother," Joy said.

"I know you can put it on," I muttered, taking her face in my hands, "but what if you cannot take it off?"

"I will," she said. Then she pressed her closed lips to mine, and we shared a platonic kiss. As always, there was the hint of carnal desire, and we both repressed the urge to open our lips and exchange tongues. We broke with that shared secret between our eyes, and the memory of our desire radiating from our smiling lips. Then Joy took a deep breath, and touched Hatred. It wrapped around her like it had a life of its own, clinging to her limbs, seeming to wrestle her the floor. She did not scream nor struggle, but gave us a look that was meant to assure us she had it under control. The cloth molded itself to her body, wrapped around her neck like a constricting boa, and plastered to her face. She collapsed onto the floor, limp and lifeless. Vitanimus and I ran to her, but then stopped when we heard the sound. It was a giggle, one I'm sure you know. Girlish and childlike, and void of any joy. She rose slowly, stretching her neck this way and that, staring from beneath imperiously-lidded red eyes that swam with her contempt.

"Mother," she smiled, the word coming from her like an apple with a razor hidden in the core.

"Hatred," I replied, and Joy's eyes flickered their affirmation.

"Can you create fire?" Vitanimus asked beside me.

"I can," Joy grinned, and snapped her fingers to reveal blue flame.

"Wonderful," Vitanimus gasped. He turned to me, excitement brimming in his eyes. "We can save them, Petranumen! We can save them all!"

"We can kill them," Joy giggled, her body wreathing with flame. "We can kill them all!" And she hurled the flame at us, a gout in the shape of a heart, anatomical and beating with sapphire heat. I put up a wall just in time, and Vitanimus circled it, riding atop a charging mastodon. Joy did not care a damn for the creature's size. She set the wooly beast aflame, and Vitanimus leapt away. I encased my daughter in stone, and she melted it. Then I encased her in metal, and melted that too, each attempt met with that giggle. Even unbound and inexperienced, the Elemental of fire surpassed my destructive capabilities by orders of magnitude. Remembering the flame retardants Vitanimus had once constructed, I tried to suppress her with sand, but I could never do much with sand, and the attack was ineffectual. Joy lashed at me with a whip of flame, and it struck me across the ribs."

I paused, leaning backward to show Diamond the scar that still crossed me below the armpit. She ran her fingers softly over the ridge, and I felt the spot prickle pleasantly with gooseflesh.

"But Vitanimus was bound, and Joy was not, so shouldn't he have been able to heal this?" Diamond asked.

"He did, but I kept it as a reminder," I answered, lowering my arm. "We were playing with fire, after all."

"I felt mortality for the first time then, and I screamed my warning to Vitanimus. He stopped in his tracks, gawking at the wound in my side. Joy had a clean shot at him, but she did not take it. She just giggled at our horrified expressions; I guess simply knowing she could kill us was all she wanted. Or perhaps she just wanted us to know it. She strutted toward me, her gait languorous, but off somehow, like she had a pain in her hip, and she desired to feel it to the fullest. She stopped before me, and drew her thumb across my trembling lips. There she placed the same closed-mouth kiss we shared earlier, and upon her withdrawal, she whispered, "Now you will remember my hatred every time we express our love." Then she put something in my hand. It was smooth, and when I ran my thumb down its length, I felt a sharp pain. I looked down, and realized I had split my skin upon an obsidian dagger, one that she had formed with her heat and my rock. "In case you ever get sick of the old man," Joy winked, "or yourself." Then, she changed back."

I stopped my story, and Diamond saw that I was shaking. She wrapped me in her embrace, pulling my face into the supple warmth of her breasts, and my body in the elegant curves of her form. It was not sexual this time, though her nakedness was appealing. I rotated in the hold until she was nestled to my back, her manhood secured between my cheeks, but not hard. She pet my hair soothingly, and rested her lips upon my crown.

"It worked, didn't it?" Diamond asked.

"It did," I muttered. A tear was rolling down my cheek, and its path lead to the corner of my mouth. I tasted the salt, and wondered if I was strong enough to recount the end of my story. Even with Diamond's love surrounding me, I could feel Guilt calling from across realms, her voice clear through the ruin of Corruption. There a was a distant boom in my psyche, and it echoed emptily through my mind and across worlds. A spire had fallen. Boom, another. Boom, another. Boom, another. The sound cascaded like thunder, and I tensed in preparation. The sound stopped, dwindled its warning echoes, then died. I relaxed.