10-17-2017, 07:50 AM
Several more hours of walking passed, and as they grew closer to their destination, the speeding streaks of light in the sky grew more frequent. The arced overhead in frenetic loops and zigzags, the nonsensical geometry of The Void warping their true trajectories. Great, dark shapes on the horizon became briefly illuminated by their brilliance, revealing that Myla and Tearen had been far from alone this entire time. Myla clung more closely to the Elder Prime, but Tearen walked unabated. Though noisome and flagellant, these hulking brutes meant them no harm. The monstrous beasts' attention washed over the pair like curious tides, and Tearen assuaged their mental curiosity with calm, psychic rebuttals. In tandem, the brooding amoebas and shooting angels made an effect similar to watching a meteor shower amidst a forest. In time, Myla came to relax and appreciate the otherworldly beauty of it all.
And then it appeared before them, slipping into sight as mundanely as if they had turned a corner. Tearen was almost curious to try and reproduce the illusory effect by backtracking a few steps, but he dare not give The Void a chance to yank this succulent carrot away from their noses. Of course, there always existed the possibility that the shimmering, whirling vortex did not lead to the Oververse...but the Shadow doubted that. Myla looked upon the pure, prismatic brilliance with awe, and began to slowly stride towards it. The Elder Prime clutched her hand tightly and held her back.
"No. Myla. We are not yet assured of the nature of the Void. Come close." Tearen said softly. Myla took a few steps towards Tearen, but he shook his head.
"Closer."
Myla pressed herself up against his bare skin, but kept her head turned to make sure the hypnotic aperture did not slip away. The Shadow grabbed her own nude body and hugged her tightly. The Void may have been of static temperature, but the warmth of another human's body was something that the ex-enigma had gone too long without. It awakened something within him, more than a basic physical euphoria, but a deep sense of blissful grief. With great severity, the eldritch human levitated their entwined forms as one whole towards the gate, and floated them through.
...
Light.
By some eldritch nature, the Void had proven navigable even in its apparent pitch darkness, but even the aberrations of luminosity within that forsaken Verse were dim compared to the pervasive brightness that assaulted the pilgrims' retinas. Thankfully, neither Tearen nor Myla were fully human, and their hardened senses were able to overcome the heavenly brilliance in short order. Blinking, Tearen took in the expansive cloudscape that surrounded them. Filaments of cirrus clouds stretched all around them, weaving and piercing the more numerous stratocumulus sheets of silver and amber. The light of the sun came from all possible directions, yet the clouds held all the natural colors of meteorological majesty within them. Immense banks of mountainous cotton crashed silently into the horizon, where they doubled together and reemerged as brooding curtains of shimmering beauty.
There, half concealed by haze and atmospheric vapor, sat an immense thundercloud. Dark and heavy, it towered above all the other banks of beauty. Thunder rumbled from deep within it, and every few moments, a flash of internal power forced itself out of the doleful, intangible summit. Perched upon the roiling mass, barely visible among the eddies, were glinting towers of gold and marble. Valhalla, it was called among the Omniverse's denizens, and within those august citadels sat Omni, amidst his host. Taken together with the foundation of thunder, it did not convey a sense of foreboding, but of sheer glory.
Tearen stood there, feeling schizophrenic. Easily as excited as he was dreadful, and trying to quell the surge of second thoughts within his simian mind. Nealaphh would have already been whipping off through the warm breeze on its way to confront this world's overlord, but Tearen Wover now balked. Myla saw this, felt it within his rigid muscles, and turned his head to look at her. Tearen had already told the woman that he planned to sacrifice himself to Omni in exchange for something that would benefit the Omniverse as a whole, but the details had been withheld. The succubus woman craned her neck to kiss the Shadow deeply, and moved to pull their forms down to the fluffy bed of nimbus beneath them.
Tearen resisted, though he returned the kiss itself. He took in a deep sigh, for he knew what was within Myla's mind, even without reading it. Here was a secondary, an enslaved resident of the Underverse, who had never hoped to be free from her indentured service to the demonic churls who used her ad nauseum. Now, here she was, standing at the far end of the Omniverse, free from obligation or want. More than having merely taken up a quiet life in Costa Del Sol, or emigrated to the open arms of Ambrosia, here was a refugee who had surpassed even her most daring dreams. Now it was her life to choose, and in that life, she was choosing Tearen. Perhaps not as a mate for life, nor yet as a casual shag, but as her first opportunity to be close to another living being without having to fulfill some crass hunger or contract. Was it wrong to deny her such a profound emergence from slave mentality, or was it wrong to lay with this woman whom he saw both as disciple and as kindred spirit? Tearen flushed and turned away from the naked vixen, walking to the edge of their secluded cloud and clasping the back of his wild, white hair.
"I'm sorry, Myla. I...can't." he murmured. He wasn't sure what exact reaction he should expect, but it certainly wasn't the earnest concern in Myla's voice.
"That's a first. Why not?" she asked in a soothing tone. She reclined on the cloud and crossed her legs patiently. Emotions percolated within the Shadow's chest as he deliberated how much to divulge to this daughter figure of his. Perhaps start with that.
"Myla you're...I suppose it was never official, but I see you as part of my flock. My protected, cherished people. Mine is not to bed with such followers." Tearen said, immediately knowing that it was a weak argument. Myla knew this, for she could not follow him to his ultimate destination, and therefore was no longer his follower. He had delivered her out of a sense of personal obligation, but this offer she now made him was not out of gratitude, but out of elation. Certainly, thanks to Tearen's adjustments, she was no longer required to mate to sustain herself, but that did not mean she was no longer an innately sexual being.
For that matter, Tearen was of the same ken. These flushed emotions within him were unfamiliar and chaotic. Lust was such an easy temptation to dismiss, but this was something much more potent. Not mere craving of physical feedback, but a need for physical closeness and comfort, as close as one human could be to another. Warmth and passion. Myla laughed.
"Heh. Keep trying." she teased. Tearen wheeled around to attempt a reproachful glare, but instead formed a pleading expression on his face.
"I want to, but..." he trailed off, trying to find the root of his reluctance. Several cursory reasons flitted across his conscience; a subconscious reluctance to be a natural human, sense of impropriety, a desire to encourage better habits in the succcubus...all were vapid in the light of her newly liberated life. The ex-enigma quested deeper within himself, and in time, came to the root of the cause.
"Myla...before I was that...strange thing. Before I was an Enigma or a God, or any kind of thing like that, I was originally a human." Tearen said, sitting down on the edge of the cloud. He let his feet dangle over the fluffy precipice, and idly wondered what would happen if he simply jumped from this vantage. Myla came and sat next to him, close enough to put pressure on his mind, but not so close as to spur him into moving. Intentional or not, the succubus was excellent at her craft of seduction. Perhaps that was another element of his reluctance, but the truth was deeper. There was nothing but patient silence from the woman.
"I was a man. I had a job...I had a home, a wife, a child...one day there was an accident, and I fell into darkness. The Master found my mind, and whisked me away to become Nealaphh. For so long, being an infinite being of utter power was an easy way to repress the regret of that pact made in despair. I pushed away my humanity...not because it in itself was a weakness, but because I was running from my betrayal. I-" Tearen said, jumping slightly as he felt a warm hand on his back. The succubus ran a hand along the ridges and divots of the demonic brand Tearen had earned in the Underverse. She looking down at her kicking feet and spoke softly.
"I could tell you had a habit of carrying the burden of guilt. You're a Prime, with amazing powers...and yet you haven't removed this brand from yourself. I think, maybe, you cling to painful memories because you feel that grounds you to your humanity." Myla offered, rubbing his back steadily. She cracked a wan smile.
"But Tearen...pain is not the only part of being human. It's also...living in the moment. Knowing where joy is, and being unafraid to feel it. I may be a succubus, but I was made with a human mind. You're a beautiful person, and...you want so hard to atone for the pain you caused. You wouldn't be about to obliterate yourself that wasn't the case. But there also comes a time when you need to move on from pain–" Myla said, silencing her soliloquy as Tearen stood up again and began to pace around. He tried to resist the human response of anger, and understand Myla's perspective, but it was hard.
"And...and that time is now? Just in time to lay with you on God's doorstep? I don't...I can't just give up that guilt so swiftly, Myla!" Tearen complained, now feeling very exposed. This, of course, was ludicrous. There were hardly any Primes even in the Underverse that could stand against him, at least that he had encountered. Why would he feel vulnerable now? He breathed.
"I'm sorry, Myla..." Tearen started, taking note of the succubus' casual shrug, "...I'm not used to being the person...who receives the care. Perhaps, part of having been a God, part of having been a leader...mine is to provide. To control and oversee, but rarely to truly interact. Up until now you have been my charge, but now you are on your own and choosing to care for me in the best way you know how...and..." Tearen sighed, and fell silent, stifling down the choking sob that threatened to escape his throat. This was extremely unbecoming, but perhaps in that regard, he was more human in this moment than he ever had been before.
"You're scared of what you have to do? I get that. But here's just something...didn't you yourself say that Primes are not the people they were in your homeworlds?" Myla started, approaching the panicking Prime again.
"It's not certain. How did-?"
"You carried me around in your brain for months Tearen, I'm sure you tried your best but some stuff did imprint. No biggie. Even if it's uncertain, you're about to descend into the lion's den. Your past life is a universe away, and you are choosing to never go back to it. I want this for both of us, because it's what is most human right now. If you really want to be human, Tearen, let yourself be who you are, in this moment. I understand the sense of commitment and guilt, but I know you're mindful enough to see that it barely applies here. Here's a simple question..." Myla said in her cool, dusky voice. She walked around to his front, allowing her naked body to occupy most of his view.
"If you go to Omni now, without allowing this to happen, will you regret it?" she asked plainly. Tearen swallowed hard, and thought harder. A special kind of heartache, the one that seeps out from the veins and lingers inside of the knuckles washed over him, along with a rush of adrenaline. It was heady, a sort of tonic he hadn't felt in countless infinities, and it pushed away all remaining fear.
"Yes."
And so, they fell into one another, with all the aching vitality of a need long unfulfilled. This was no mere rutting nor casual daliance, but the sincerity and beauty of two souls genuinely connecting. It was a frenetic display, as Tearen ceded to instinctual directives that guided this long untouched part of his psyche. Myla, being of tantric nature, was easily able to match the Shadow's pace; at times clumsy and at times intuitive. Reluctance and hesitation was wiped away amidst the throes of entwined, half-human flesh, leaving only the scents, sounds and sensations of this most basic of sentient rites.
In the same manner that breath is vital to clearing one's mind, so too was breath used to pace the consecration of the Oververse's gravitas. Muscles shivered, bearing the lode of excitement and passion that was better savored than rushed. Perhaps in a less human frame of mind, Tearen may have been tempted to incorporate the talents of his awakened mind into these happy moments. As it were, he chose to savor the intrinsic connection between himself and Myla, using far more basic senses to bring meaning to the satisfaction of their mutual, burning needs.
When the coupling reached its zenith, Tearen and Myla were truly as one, and knew in each other something that no one would ever again be privy. It was hardly possible that the strains of this coital duet would reach the aeries of Valhalla, but if an angel craned an ear, they might yet have heard that final, enduring note of true harmony.
Ecstacy passed into contentment as Myla came to rest upon Tearen's dampened chest. They remained coupled, but remained that way for some time, unhurried by agenda or need, for therein lay the true beauty of these otherwise carnal proceedings. Were circumstances different, and dreams easily realized, Tearen could have remained entwined upon that cloud for eternity.
...
But, in due time, the pilgrims found themselves walking along the polished, striated avenues of Valhalla, still more captivated with one another than any vapid crenelation or buttress. Though Myla and Tearen approached Omni's palace bare and meager, the angels of the Oververse hailed and greeted them all the same. Their serene faces smiled down at the pair, just as eager to welcome them to the Smiling One's personal xanadu as any other of the warrior heroes that had fought their way up. Myla and Tearen then paused at the cusp of a large, wide bridge that lead into Omni's audience chamber itself. The building, somehow distant even within the streets of this divine metropolis, was sublime in its own right.
It was not tall, but wide, stretching almost from one end of the field of view to the other. Countless columns stood solemn along the perimeter of the Olympian fane, borne by ravishing caryatids of every conceivable personage. A fantastically complex series of reliefs and meandros bedecked the painted, marble faces of the foundation and roof line. An immense, golden dome with all the stars and lands of the Omniverse carved within it sat heavily upon almost the extent of the building's mass. It was appropriately imposing.
Here, Tearen and Myla held hands for the final time, and the succubus gave the ex-enigma his final embrace. Myla could see Tearen's growing hesitation with every passing moment, and broke contact with the powerful Prime.
"I trust you, Tearen. You need to do this. I'll be okay. Go." she said, mustering all of the strength she could. They both knew the score here. Both knew the utter humanity of the situation, but this was what they had asked for. Sorrow can beget countless joys, if taken appropriately. The depth of this moment's moroseness would need to produce quite a lot of joy indeed, to be seen favorably in hindsight. The Shadow turned from Myla and started to walk across the final bridge, when the secondary called out to him.
"Maybe...just some kind of memento though?" Myla asked in a shaking voice, clutching one hand to her sternum. Tearen paused, and summoned Enigma, his eldritch halberd, to hand. Myla tilted her head curiously, but was stricken with shock as the ex-enigma whirled the axehead around in a movement of utter skill and grace. The half-telekinetic slash cut almost the entirety of his snow-white hair from his scalp. Tearen uttered a sad chuckle, ruminating on the idea that this legendary weapon's final cut would be that of a barber's shear. The halberd was dismissed in a bloom of lavender light, and Tearen handed the severed locks to Myla with a warm smile, having mentally braided them in short order. The succubus hugged the woven braid close to her and finally broke down, crushing her eyes shut and bearing a toothy grimace.
Tearen left the sound of sobbing behind him, pain welling up from his own heart into his eyes. He looked across the bridge towards his doom, and knew that he was bound up within it. He started walking slowly at first, but the agony threatened to repel him back into the safety of Myla's arms. A sprint, breaking into a run, and then finally a nigh supersonic flight on telekinetic wings sent Tearen Wover into the gulping maw of his fate. Despite his incredible speed, some tears still fell upon the bridge of Valhalla that day. There were precious few guarantees in life, but Myla knew she would never see the man again.
Time passed, as Myla waited on the edge of the bridge, watching for any sign of activity within. She wasn't sure what she was waiting for, or thought perhaps that she was holding on some vain hope that Tearen would forgo the salvation of his adoptive universe in favor of simply choosing to live. Her eyes bleary, she waited in the company of compassionate angels, who cooed and brought her water, clothes, and other comforts, that she might find some solace that she at least was not alone.
The moment of Tearen's death was easy to mark. Green light, acidic and potent, rocketed forth in a scouring beam from the top of the golden dome. It blazed into the vaultless sky, along with a blast of wind and sound that was clearly the equivalent of a god's scream. It was horrifying, and exterminated any sense of acceptance that Myla had, up until that point, managed to assemble. The whirling pillar of energy lasted for a minute before abruptly shimmering out, like a snuffed flame. The allegory was all too real, and perhaps Myla might have fallen into permanent despair, if not for hope.
Hope that, in the end, Tearen had found his own redemption.
And then it appeared before them, slipping into sight as mundanely as if they had turned a corner. Tearen was almost curious to try and reproduce the illusory effect by backtracking a few steps, but he dare not give The Void a chance to yank this succulent carrot away from their noses. Of course, there always existed the possibility that the shimmering, whirling vortex did not lead to the Oververse...but the Shadow doubted that. Myla looked upon the pure, prismatic brilliance with awe, and began to slowly stride towards it. The Elder Prime clutched her hand tightly and held her back.
"No. Myla. We are not yet assured of the nature of the Void. Come close." Tearen said softly. Myla took a few steps towards Tearen, but he shook his head.
"Closer."
Myla pressed herself up against his bare skin, but kept her head turned to make sure the hypnotic aperture did not slip away. The Shadow grabbed her own nude body and hugged her tightly. The Void may have been of static temperature, but the warmth of another human's body was something that the ex-enigma had gone too long without. It awakened something within him, more than a basic physical euphoria, but a deep sense of blissful grief. With great severity, the eldritch human levitated their entwined forms as one whole towards the gate, and floated them through.
...
Light.
By some eldritch nature, the Void had proven navigable even in its apparent pitch darkness, but even the aberrations of luminosity within that forsaken Verse were dim compared to the pervasive brightness that assaulted the pilgrims' retinas. Thankfully, neither Tearen nor Myla were fully human, and their hardened senses were able to overcome the heavenly brilliance in short order. Blinking, Tearen took in the expansive cloudscape that surrounded them. Filaments of cirrus clouds stretched all around them, weaving and piercing the more numerous stratocumulus sheets of silver and amber. The light of the sun came from all possible directions, yet the clouds held all the natural colors of meteorological majesty within them. Immense banks of mountainous cotton crashed silently into the horizon, where they doubled together and reemerged as brooding curtains of shimmering beauty.
There, half concealed by haze and atmospheric vapor, sat an immense thundercloud. Dark and heavy, it towered above all the other banks of beauty. Thunder rumbled from deep within it, and every few moments, a flash of internal power forced itself out of the doleful, intangible summit. Perched upon the roiling mass, barely visible among the eddies, were glinting towers of gold and marble. Valhalla, it was called among the Omniverse's denizens, and within those august citadels sat Omni, amidst his host. Taken together with the foundation of thunder, it did not convey a sense of foreboding, but of sheer glory.
Tearen stood there, feeling schizophrenic. Easily as excited as he was dreadful, and trying to quell the surge of second thoughts within his simian mind. Nealaphh would have already been whipping off through the warm breeze on its way to confront this world's overlord, but Tearen Wover now balked. Myla saw this, felt it within his rigid muscles, and turned his head to look at her. Tearen had already told the woman that he planned to sacrifice himself to Omni in exchange for something that would benefit the Omniverse as a whole, but the details had been withheld. The succubus woman craned her neck to kiss the Shadow deeply, and moved to pull their forms down to the fluffy bed of nimbus beneath them.
Tearen resisted, though he returned the kiss itself. He took in a deep sigh, for he knew what was within Myla's mind, even without reading it. Here was a secondary, an enslaved resident of the Underverse, who had never hoped to be free from her indentured service to the demonic churls who used her ad nauseum. Now, here she was, standing at the far end of the Omniverse, free from obligation or want. More than having merely taken up a quiet life in Costa Del Sol, or emigrated to the open arms of Ambrosia, here was a refugee who had surpassed even her most daring dreams. Now it was her life to choose, and in that life, she was choosing Tearen. Perhaps not as a mate for life, nor yet as a casual shag, but as her first opportunity to be close to another living being without having to fulfill some crass hunger or contract. Was it wrong to deny her such a profound emergence from slave mentality, or was it wrong to lay with this woman whom he saw both as disciple and as kindred spirit? Tearen flushed and turned away from the naked vixen, walking to the edge of their secluded cloud and clasping the back of his wild, white hair.
"I'm sorry, Myla. I...can't." he murmured. He wasn't sure what exact reaction he should expect, but it certainly wasn't the earnest concern in Myla's voice.
"That's a first. Why not?" she asked in a soothing tone. She reclined on the cloud and crossed her legs patiently. Emotions percolated within the Shadow's chest as he deliberated how much to divulge to this daughter figure of his. Perhaps start with that.
"Myla you're...I suppose it was never official, but I see you as part of my flock. My protected, cherished people. Mine is not to bed with such followers." Tearen said, immediately knowing that it was a weak argument. Myla knew this, for she could not follow him to his ultimate destination, and therefore was no longer his follower. He had delivered her out of a sense of personal obligation, but this offer she now made him was not out of gratitude, but out of elation. Certainly, thanks to Tearen's adjustments, she was no longer required to mate to sustain herself, but that did not mean she was no longer an innately sexual being.
For that matter, Tearen was of the same ken. These flushed emotions within him were unfamiliar and chaotic. Lust was such an easy temptation to dismiss, but this was something much more potent. Not mere craving of physical feedback, but a need for physical closeness and comfort, as close as one human could be to another. Warmth and passion. Myla laughed.
"Heh. Keep trying." she teased. Tearen wheeled around to attempt a reproachful glare, but instead formed a pleading expression on his face.
"I want to, but..." he trailed off, trying to find the root of his reluctance. Several cursory reasons flitted across his conscience; a subconscious reluctance to be a natural human, sense of impropriety, a desire to encourage better habits in the succcubus...all were vapid in the light of her newly liberated life. The ex-enigma quested deeper within himself, and in time, came to the root of the cause.
"Myla...before I was that...strange thing. Before I was an Enigma or a God, or any kind of thing like that, I was originally a human." Tearen said, sitting down on the edge of the cloud. He let his feet dangle over the fluffy precipice, and idly wondered what would happen if he simply jumped from this vantage. Myla came and sat next to him, close enough to put pressure on his mind, but not so close as to spur him into moving. Intentional or not, the succubus was excellent at her craft of seduction. Perhaps that was another element of his reluctance, but the truth was deeper. There was nothing but patient silence from the woman.
"I was a man. I had a job...I had a home, a wife, a child...one day there was an accident, and I fell into darkness. The Master found my mind, and whisked me away to become Nealaphh. For so long, being an infinite being of utter power was an easy way to repress the regret of that pact made in despair. I pushed away my humanity...not because it in itself was a weakness, but because I was running from my betrayal. I-" Tearen said, jumping slightly as he felt a warm hand on his back. The succubus ran a hand along the ridges and divots of the demonic brand Tearen had earned in the Underverse. She looking down at her kicking feet and spoke softly.
"I could tell you had a habit of carrying the burden of guilt. You're a Prime, with amazing powers...and yet you haven't removed this brand from yourself. I think, maybe, you cling to painful memories because you feel that grounds you to your humanity." Myla offered, rubbing his back steadily. She cracked a wan smile.
"But Tearen...pain is not the only part of being human. It's also...living in the moment. Knowing where joy is, and being unafraid to feel it. I may be a succubus, but I was made with a human mind. You're a beautiful person, and...you want so hard to atone for the pain you caused. You wouldn't be about to obliterate yourself that wasn't the case. But there also comes a time when you need to move on from pain–" Myla said, silencing her soliloquy as Tearen stood up again and began to pace around. He tried to resist the human response of anger, and understand Myla's perspective, but it was hard.
"And...and that time is now? Just in time to lay with you on God's doorstep? I don't...I can't just give up that guilt so swiftly, Myla!" Tearen complained, now feeling very exposed. This, of course, was ludicrous. There were hardly any Primes even in the Underverse that could stand against him, at least that he had encountered. Why would he feel vulnerable now? He breathed.
"I'm sorry, Myla..." Tearen started, taking note of the succubus' casual shrug, "...I'm not used to being the person...who receives the care. Perhaps, part of having been a God, part of having been a leader...mine is to provide. To control and oversee, but rarely to truly interact. Up until now you have been my charge, but now you are on your own and choosing to care for me in the best way you know how...and..." Tearen sighed, and fell silent, stifling down the choking sob that threatened to escape his throat. This was extremely unbecoming, but perhaps in that regard, he was more human in this moment than he ever had been before.
"You're scared of what you have to do? I get that. But here's just something...didn't you yourself say that Primes are not the people they were in your homeworlds?" Myla started, approaching the panicking Prime again.
"It's not certain. How did-?"
"You carried me around in your brain for months Tearen, I'm sure you tried your best but some stuff did imprint. No biggie. Even if it's uncertain, you're about to descend into the lion's den. Your past life is a universe away, and you are choosing to never go back to it. I want this for both of us, because it's what is most human right now. If you really want to be human, Tearen, let yourself be who you are, in this moment. I understand the sense of commitment and guilt, but I know you're mindful enough to see that it barely applies here. Here's a simple question..." Myla said in her cool, dusky voice. She walked around to his front, allowing her naked body to occupy most of his view.
"If you go to Omni now, without allowing this to happen, will you regret it?" she asked plainly. Tearen swallowed hard, and thought harder. A special kind of heartache, the one that seeps out from the veins and lingers inside of the knuckles washed over him, along with a rush of adrenaline. It was heady, a sort of tonic he hadn't felt in countless infinities, and it pushed away all remaining fear.
"Yes."
And so, they fell into one another, with all the aching vitality of a need long unfulfilled. This was no mere rutting nor casual daliance, but the sincerity and beauty of two souls genuinely connecting. It was a frenetic display, as Tearen ceded to instinctual directives that guided this long untouched part of his psyche. Myla, being of tantric nature, was easily able to match the Shadow's pace; at times clumsy and at times intuitive. Reluctance and hesitation was wiped away amidst the throes of entwined, half-human flesh, leaving only the scents, sounds and sensations of this most basic of sentient rites.
In the same manner that breath is vital to clearing one's mind, so too was breath used to pace the consecration of the Oververse's gravitas. Muscles shivered, bearing the lode of excitement and passion that was better savored than rushed. Perhaps in a less human frame of mind, Tearen may have been tempted to incorporate the talents of his awakened mind into these happy moments. As it were, he chose to savor the intrinsic connection between himself and Myla, using far more basic senses to bring meaning to the satisfaction of their mutual, burning needs.
When the coupling reached its zenith, Tearen and Myla were truly as one, and knew in each other something that no one would ever again be privy. It was hardly possible that the strains of this coital duet would reach the aeries of Valhalla, but if an angel craned an ear, they might yet have heard that final, enduring note of true harmony.
Ecstacy passed into contentment as Myla came to rest upon Tearen's dampened chest. They remained coupled, but remained that way for some time, unhurried by agenda or need, for therein lay the true beauty of these otherwise carnal proceedings. Were circumstances different, and dreams easily realized, Tearen could have remained entwined upon that cloud for eternity.
...
But, in due time, the pilgrims found themselves walking along the polished, striated avenues of Valhalla, still more captivated with one another than any vapid crenelation or buttress. Though Myla and Tearen approached Omni's palace bare and meager, the angels of the Oververse hailed and greeted them all the same. Their serene faces smiled down at the pair, just as eager to welcome them to the Smiling One's personal xanadu as any other of the warrior heroes that had fought their way up. Myla and Tearen then paused at the cusp of a large, wide bridge that lead into Omni's audience chamber itself. The building, somehow distant even within the streets of this divine metropolis, was sublime in its own right.
It was not tall, but wide, stretching almost from one end of the field of view to the other. Countless columns stood solemn along the perimeter of the Olympian fane, borne by ravishing caryatids of every conceivable personage. A fantastically complex series of reliefs and meandros bedecked the painted, marble faces of the foundation and roof line. An immense, golden dome with all the stars and lands of the Omniverse carved within it sat heavily upon almost the extent of the building's mass. It was appropriately imposing.
Here, Tearen and Myla held hands for the final time, and the succubus gave the ex-enigma his final embrace. Myla could see Tearen's growing hesitation with every passing moment, and broke contact with the powerful Prime.
"I trust you, Tearen. You need to do this. I'll be okay. Go." she said, mustering all of the strength she could. They both knew the score here. Both knew the utter humanity of the situation, but this was what they had asked for. Sorrow can beget countless joys, if taken appropriately. The depth of this moment's moroseness would need to produce quite a lot of joy indeed, to be seen favorably in hindsight. The Shadow turned from Myla and started to walk across the final bridge, when the secondary called out to him.
"Maybe...just some kind of memento though?" Myla asked in a shaking voice, clutching one hand to her sternum. Tearen paused, and summoned Enigma, his eldritch halberd, to hand. Myla tilted her head curiously, but was stricken with shock as the ex-enigma whirled the axehead around in a movement of utter skill and grace. The half-telekinetic slash cut almost the entirety of his snow-white hair from his scalp. Tearen uttered a sad chuckle, ruminating on the idea that this legendary weapon's final cut would be that of a barber's shear. The halberd was dismissed in a bloom of lavender light, and Tearen handed the severed locks to Myla with a warm smile, having mentally braided them in short order. The succubus hugged the woven braid close to her and finally broke down, crushing her eyes shut and bearing a toothy grimace.
Tearen left the sound of sobbing behind him, pain welling up from his own heart into his eyes. He looked across the bridge towards his doom, and knew that he was bound up within it. He started walking slowly at first, but the agony threatened to repel him back into the safety of Myla's arms. A sprint, breaking into a run, and then finally a nigh supersonic flight on telekinetic wings sent Tearen Wover into the gulping maw of his fate. Despite his incredible speed, some tears still fell upon the bridge of Valhalla that day. There were precious few guarantees in life, but Myla knew she would never see the man again.
Time passed, as Myla waited on the edge of the bridge, watching for any sign of activity within. She wasn't sure what she was waiting for, or thought perhaps that she was holding on some vain hope that Tearen would forgo the salvation of his adoptive universe in favor of simply choosing to live. Her eyes bleary, she waited in the company of compassionate angels, who cooed and brought her water, clothes, and other comforts, that she might find some solace that she at least was not alone.
The moment of Tearen's death was easy to mark. Green light, acidic and potent, rocketed forth in a scouring beam from the top of the golden dome. It blazed into the vaultless sky, along with a blast of wind and sound that was clearly the equivalent of a god's scream. It was horrifying, and exterminated any sense of acceptance that Myla had, up until that point, managed to assemble. The whirling pillar of energy lasted for a minute before abruptly shimmering out, like a snuffed flame. The allegory was all too real, and perhaps Myla might have fallen into permanent despair, if not for hope.
Hope that, in the end, Tearen had found his own redemption.
Fin
I would like to thank you all for being with me on this journey of Nealaphh and Tearen Wover. The character has been with me for a long time, and though he was not a self-insert Prime, much of my life's struggles and conflicts were reflected within his trials. You have all been, and will continue to be, a source of true companionship. I only hope that in some way, I can repay your kindness and acceptance through my own limited wisdom.
I will be on hiatus for some time, as I wish to invest creative energy into more of my personal pursuits, but I will return, at least in and of myself, to guide you all on your own paths of literary self-discovery.
Mediums and outlets may change, but never give up your willingness to tell stories and evoke emotions therein. It is a sacred expression of self-confidence, and one that you will always own, no matter how much life beats you down.
Thanks again.
Aaron D. Weaver
...
A few months passed, and Myla had come to find a place among the bustling immigrant community of the Vasty Deep. She hadn't cultivated many skills outside of prostitution in the Underverse, but she had managed to find work as a seamstress on a remote island community. As she was getting dressed in raiment of her own design one morning, she turned to her silver mirror and ran a hand along a slight bulge on her abdomen.
It seemed as though the generous cooking of the island natives was beginning to overcome even her devilish metabolism. That, or something altogether more exciting would soon challenge her in new ways...
And, we dream of home I dream of life out of here Their dreams are small My dreams don't know fear I got my heart full of hope I will change everything No matter what I'm told How impossible it seems We did it before And we'll do it again We're indestructible Even when we're tired And we've been here before Just you and I
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued
Don't try to rescue me I don't need to be rescued