Forever Never/The Dawn of Illusion
by Cheryl Pennington
copyright all content
And in the dark corners of Eternity….
“Do not think you know me so well, innocent Mother of Domhan.” Ar’tine paced the rock path next to his pool of visions. He was angered by her arrogant words. He would never be that trusting, that vulnerable. At the same time, he desired her love more than any other. He would receive it soon enough-in the form of her own daughter, his most beloved As’me. He would be patient, show himself worthy of trust and then be allowed to commune with the beautiful soul he had created. They would be a family of a kind-save for that useless companion of hers. A new sensation dawned within the dark god. He trusted this female, and yet he wasn’t sure what to do with such an emotion. Yet. So he locked it deeply in his sticky soul so that he could watch it.
And the other female, the Huntress now bound to his son. Beautiful as she was, she was so unworthy of the Warrior she had seduced. Now she was bearing Laoch’s child! What a magnificent child his son would have created with the Sorceress. Such a union would have brought forth a much more powerful offspring. Pity. What is, IS, after all-until it can be changed. Or perhaps affected..
The sun set on a calm Domhan. In the land of the caves, much excitement was buzzing over the new tools and weapons, implements and gifts for the females, as well as the horses that they brought from Juntos. Things had certainly moved on across the face of the once quiet village. Many of its females were awaiting the gift of creation, others were hopeful.
The land of Juntos would continue its course even in the absence of the Light Ones, for now they slept as one and knew a sense of unity. Eagna and Eolas talked way into the darkness, with him telling tales of the events that had taken place in the land of smoke spirals, the village now known as Juntos. He shared the story of the joining ceremony and of Laoch’s newfound sense of purpose while in the tribe of Jinetes. Eagna was happy to know their friend was fulfilled and honored, although her thoughts drifted to Naofa, lying alone with a deep wound in her heart. She lifted a prayer to Eternity for the happiness of all on their world as she snuggled next to her own companion, thankful for the warmth of his body and his safe return. The child within her body tumbled and kicked every time Eolas spoke. Eagna could understand how it felt.
A Peace Offering
“It isn’t fair for the Sorceress, really.” Ar’tine mumbled to himself, running a gnarled finger through the gray dust that had collected near where he sat. He bore a sweet spot for that willowy female who had such fire, such fight and had thus far been excluded from all the glory that was being showered on the inhabitants of Domhan. The dark god was feeling bored-and restless. And benevolent, at least in his own mind. His soul fought the invisible cords that bound him to the will of Light; and he prided himself on being more clever than any of his tormentors. He had been forbidden to interfere in the world of Inion by the Great and Powerful, not allowed to physically enter there; and yet, perhaps there was a way to express his regret for the little incident back in the land of caves and little folk. Surely he would not be judged for offering a gift to the lovely white witch; and she had revealed herself as very receptive to his power. What would be the harm, then, in giving her what she truly wanted, what she herself would not dare admit but that he understood so well? Desire was his own constant companion. Why should she be denied when the others were being fulfilled? Perhaps she would think him less vile if he offered her a glimpse of possibility, even if only for a brief moment. If only his son had realized the truth in her heart he might have been saved a lifetime of mediocrity with that simple village girl.
So it was, that with whatever passed for noble intentions within him, Artine brought his idea to life, harboring a hope that this offering would bring forgiveness from the Sorceress, for surely she would know its source. In another of his deluded moments, the dark god never considered the true essence of the first humans, their spirits endowed with the power of the very God and Goddess who created them. Or perhaps he did…
Artine’s fingers began weaving the mists into shadows, the shadows into forms….
to be continued……