Dark Origins

I cannot be upset.

I won’t allow it.

Even if I do not deserve this song, I will take it.

I press my palm to her chest and whisper. “Do you hear them sing the praises of your beauty? Of our son? Of our union?”

Nephal lets out a gasp as her eyes glow. “It’s beautiful!”

The stars sing their own songs and melody, yet somehow it all mixes together in a way that includes every language, every tongue, every note, and includes color that you can see through the music.

It’s magnificent.

And I have missed it.

I let them sing us our last song as I kiss her mouth. She tastes like sunlight and the earth I chose to protect long ago.

And the mountain I looked away from, only to watch her.

I pause, looking down at her.

Maybe, just maybe, part of my purpose all along was to watch—her.

I smile at this.

I am a Watcher.

So I do exactly that.

I watch her.

I watch her as she smiles up at me.

As her mouth finds mine.

As she uses me for her pleasure, her hands scratch down my back, gripping my hips pulling me closer and closer. I memorize the taste of her skin, like the very earth she came from, like fresh rain in the morning, like life itself.

I don’t want to let her go; I find it nearly impossible as her little moans reach my ears. I even wish for the scratches on my skin to become her scars so that wherever I walk and whatever I do—the rest of the world knows who I belong to, who my partner is.

It is the woman I now watch.

It is the woman who looks up at me with adoration in her eyes along with wonder as I bring her pleasure, as I sink deeper into her womb and find my pleasure. Her thighs clench around me, pulling me in, swallowing me whole as my mouth finds hers again. Our tongues move in sync with our bodies as our hands clasp together for the very last time.

I tell myself it is for now.

That the creators would not be so cruel.

And I realize that this entire existence I’ve been given has possibly been something other than what I thought. Maybe all that time on the mountain was just the beginning.

“This,” I whisper against her mouth. “Is not the end, my love.”

“No.” Tears fill her eyes. “This is just the start of our story, Sariel. The beginnings are always my favorite after all.”

“How so?” I ask as I feel her body start to fall apart beneath mine.

My jaw hardens, teeth clench, as the feeling of her sucking me dry washes over me.

I see stars.

I see heaven.

I see my future.

Her.

Wave after waves of pleasure shoots through me, between us, and still, neither of us look away as we continue to kiss and love one another.

I don’t pull away from her, but I feel it in the wind. I feel the change; I smell it in the air as I slowly move to my knees and clean between her thighs, only to stand to my feet and move toward my son.

I kiss him on the forehead. “I will be back to help you.”

It’s not just a promise but a vow.

I will help him navigate the darkness—I will teach him the light.

“I love you, my son.” I kiss his forehead and run my hands through his inky dark hair before I start to put my clothes and then armor back on.

My helmet and sword are last.

Nephal is holding the helmet; the sword is too heavy as it lays against the ground.

I pick it up, and then I reach for her.

Her lips tremble as she steps into my arms and rests her head against my golden armor, and in that moment, something shifts between us.

It is peace.

Acceptance.

Love.

It is the will of the creators.

I smile down at her. “What a wonderful fall…”

“Still falling.” She kisses me on the cheek, then the mouth, then the other cheek. “Always falling, for my angel.”

“My angel,” I say back, and then I feel the presence of many angels outside our tent. “It is time.”

“I’ll see you soon,” she says.

“Yes.” I nod. “I will count down the seconds.”

“Eager?” She teases.

“Always.” I release her and leave the tent and see Uriel standing there with seven angels flanking each side of him.

“Are you ready?” He asks.

I almost frown. “Would you be ready to leave your child?”

He opens his mouth and then shuts it, opens it again, and says, “No, my friend. But I swear you this”—the angels near him start to walk around the small hut and stand guard—“she will always have the eyes of the creators on her, never will she suffer—that is their promise. Now, it is time for you to do good on yours.”

I nod slowly and try not to show emotion as the angels stand guard.