25. Divine Deliriums
Anubis
The band of fools suffers Duat’s illusions one after another. It's certainly what they deserve. But I find that I pity them too. If only Aleiraah saw what I'm witnessing. The strength of their remorse might've moved her.
Who am I kidding? The wounds on her heart are too fresh. And I'm not one to meddle.
She has suffered greatly at their hands, and emotional wounds take more time to heal. If they find their way back to each other naturally, it’d be for the best.
For now, I'd retain the records of their journey. If Aleiraah changes her mind, she can watch them later and decide about her future. And perhaps it’ll be in their favor. After all, fools they might be, but they do seem to care for her.
Azael
I never thought I’d get to be a mortal after spending most of my life just watching them from afar.
In the heavenly realm, there was a sense of disassociation from the sufferings of humans.
Then I fell, unwilling to remain just an observer.
The stringent rules and layers of hypocrisy that no one dared to raise their voice against, stifled me. I wanted to make a difference.
I thought I could serve mortals better if I was among them.
Through a series of experiences, I was quickly disabused of that notion.
I found myself in Mytherra where supernaturals coexisted in relative peace. By then something within me had started getting twisted.
I tried to keep the festering darkness at bay, meeting my brothers in secret, who still bowed to heaven’s powers. They strengthened my halo from time to time, which helped combat the darkness from overpowering me.
Centuries later, I met Aleiraah. Her inner light called to my soul. And I found my purpose again. To love her. To devote my existence to my Azizam.
But as a cruel sun high in the desert sky blisters my skin, I find myself unworthy to even worship at her feet. I deserve this punishment ten thousand times over. And still it wouldn't be enough to wash away my sins.
An oasis comes into view after an interminable journey across the desert. But I fear whatever awaits might shatter the remnants of my sanity. Robbing me of my purpose.
I inch toward the water at a snail's pace. My mortal body battered from the heat and sand storms.
After my first gulp of the cool, clean water, I notice a ripple run over the surface. Like a bolt out of the blue, the events from the day of the Veilmoon unfold before me. I see myself healing that filthy, cunning mortal. An arrow pierces through my heart at the flare of hurt in Aleiraah's eyes.
How could I've misinterpreted it all so horribly? How could I've not noticed?
It’s eerie, watching myself question her morals, her love—powerless to alter the past. I’m just a spectator to my own crimes.
I've always felt a stab of jealousy whenever she came back from her consultations looking bright-eyed and aroused. But that's just her being a succubus. Enjoying the carnal desires at her disposal.
At the beginning of our marriage she had explained to all of us that she enjoys others’ carnal appetites.
But she drew the line at absorbing the essence of pleasure from unwilling hosts.
She never physically engaged with them. We had all accepted her methods.
Silently agreeing that it was the price of being with her.
But now it makes me wonder. Did we really?
If so, why did I degrade her?
Over the years she always sought us out when she craved sex after a particularly potent consult. She'd unabashedly demand for us to satiate her urges.
Not even allowing her to explain her side of the story, I healed the piss-stain who attacked her. Gave him the benefit of doubt, since he's mortal and fallible.
I acted high and mighty and tore her down mercilessly. Goaded Ifrinn to restrain her, hurt her even as she begged me with her eyes. The twisted darkness in me was fascinated by her tears, rejoicing in her pain. No longer numb, but still hungry for destruction.
In the water's serene blue surface, I see myself looking vacantly at Aleiraah, as if I'm not quite all there. My wings no longer white, but ash-gray. I tell her that we’re being kind by teaching her a lesson.
For the first time ever, tears gather in my eyes and spill down my face.
My muscles spasm, chest caving in as I force myself to witness what comes next. If Aleiraah went through it, I can bear to watch it. All-encompassing self-loathing and a sense of helplessness war within me as I watch Silas’s panther padding toward Aleiraah.
My insides feel shredded at the look of fear on her face. I knew something was wrong with Silas. But I didn't realize in time that his panther was in charge.
Bazrosh wonders aloud in the moment playing before me if we should intervene, but everyone remains silent, including me.
My instincts prickle as I now observe as an outsider—something is wrong.
At that time, I remember feeling as if my mind was awash with a foreign influence.
But before I could grasp it, the inkling was gone––darkness encroaching everything.
Getting in Silas’s way would have started a bloodbath. But we could have still made an effort. The room was saturated with carnal energy and aggression, warping our judgment. The Veilmoon, ready to turn us against each other.
Agony lashes upon my soul as I witness Aleiraah passing out from the pain of coupling with Silas.
I can't live with this guilt, Azizam.
Unable to watch any longer, I close my eyes. But they snap open a moment later when I hear the sounds of crashing waves. I’m standing at a shore with raven sand as a violent sea hurls against rocky cliffs at a distance.
A fierce wind rustles against my wings. I got them back?
A lone figure stands on the edge of a cliff jutting out into the sea. She's wearing a lilac gown. Red hair whipping in the wind.
“Azizam!” I yell, already moving toward her.
A creature lands a little behind her, with enormous black wings. I half-run, half-fly, desperate to reach her, fear gripping my heart.
The sinister figure grabs hold of Aleiraah's throat, jerking her to him. I bellow her name but it gets lost in the gale. I aim a flare of angel fire at the creature but nothing happens.
Landing a few paces away, I catch the guttural voice of the creature, "You thought you could leave me? You thought you could hide from me, Aziz?"
My heart hammers hearing him call her Aziz.
"You are mine! I fell from grace and found you! You are my salvation, Aleiraah! If you can't be mine, I won't let you be anyone else's!"
Held in place by invisible chains, I keep shouting at the beast to let her go but it falls on deaf ears. The light in Aleiraah's eyes slowly dims and her struggling body goes limp.
"Aleiraaaaah!" I roar, my voice breaking, as the creature squeezes Aleiraah's delicate throat one last time. Struggling helplessly, a strangled cry escapes my throat as he pushes her off the cliff.
Her lifeless body flutters in the wind and crashes into the sea. He laughs like a madman, then starts sobbing.
Numbness spreads in my soul, my eyes glued to the spot Aleiraah's body sank into.
Suddenly the beast whirls, facing me with a manic grin.
Disbelief blanks my mind. The black-winged demon who just killed Aleiraah wears my face!
"You killed her!" My voice cracks, sounding like rusty nails scoring metal.
"No. We killed her. And you’re next!" The ‘evil’ me snarls, pouncing on me and rips off my wings. I’m still restrained, unable to fight back.
My scream of unspeakable agony is cut short as he punches his claws into my chest and tears out my heart. Everything goes silent.
The golden sand of the oasis feels cool against my skin as I'm jolted awake. The phantom pain of my wings being torn away stings my back.
The moon has risen in the sky, the ground is quaking beneath me as the water surface starts churning into a whirlpool.
Bazrosh
At one point I felt like I'd be wandering these cursed sands forever, dying of thirst in this weak mortal form. That's when the oasis popped out of thin air. I was relieved to find it's not a mirage.
However, the night of the Veilmoon unraveling before my eyes made me wish it was a mirage.
I've always been an academic, choosing knowledge over my baser instincts.
But being a dragon from a powerful line of warriors, I had to fight in numerous battles, full of carnage and mayhem as my flight's legacy demanded.
So it's fair to say that I have a ruthless, battle-hardened side.
But never did I imagine I'd subject my Starling to that harshness.
Yes, I was angry. We all were. And blinded wrath we judged her, belittled her. Hurt her so much that my strong Aleiraah was reduced to tears. And what did I do? I impaired her even further with that cursed Chain. A malicious, wicked act that put her at our mercy and at harm’s way.
I'm lower than the dirt beneath her slippers.
If Azael had not felt that piece-of-shit jewelry draining her, we'd probably have lost Aleiraah forever.
When I was a dragon-ling, producing fire was not always easy. Sometimes the ball of fire would get trapped within and my chest would ache from the heat and pressure. I feel that same pain now, only multiplied a thousand times over.
I collapse face first into the water but when I open my eyes, I find myself standing at my lair's entrance.
Is this a vision? There's a foggy quality about my surroundings.
It's nighttime, the sky dotted with stars. With no moon in sight, I enter the yawning maw of my lair. Every footstep echoes, the walls scorched smooth by centuries of dragonfire, veined with glowing emberstone that pulses faintly like the cave itself is breathing.
There's a dead-end ahead that leads to a cavern filled with my treasures. I've only brought Aleiraah here before. And every time she stares in awe when I show her my treasures––carefully curated over the years, pride suffuses me.
My shoulders slump as I tread ahead. I miss her warmth.