Chapter 51 #5
“I’m just going to say goodbye, okay?” I said, getting closer.
Then I hugged him, and he didn’t move—didn’t even put his arms around me, just stood there like a statue.
I kissed his cheek too and pulled away quickly, my cheeks flushing, because nothing about that hug had been reciprocated and the psychic was looking at me, a bit shaken.
“Good night, Serguei,” I said awkwardly, joining Zion, who put his arms around my waist for the first time that night, looking satisfied. Serguei touched his cheek. He seemed to have entered a catatonic state. Finally, he responded:
“Good night, children.”
Zion transported us home, and soon I was in the living room with a living book in my hands.
I sat on the sofa and flipped through the pages desperately.
There were many blank pages, but the last section was written.
Zion sat beside me, curiosity dancing in both our eyes as I searched for the first paragraph.
Then I settled the book into a comfortable position and began to read.
Δ
Love. War. Death. Among the divine goddesses, the sovereign of battles did not possess the most beautiful features, yet she was the most voracious and insatiable of them all, for she was also known as the goddess of Pleasures.
Forged by violence and combat, her explosive nature kept her from being loved, but never from being desired.
After all, her conquests extended far beyond wars fought with blades.
And so, not even Seijhe, the god of Knowledge, whose mind knew the paths of time, could keep his thoughts from her. Against all predictions, he found himself drawn to War. When they united, it was not out of tenderness, but out of desire that defied both logic and destiny.
There was no silence in the universe that did not tremble during their encounters.
They were voracious and insatiable in their nights of pleasure, and the worlds erupted into storms with each climax the goddess reached.
Fearing the catastrophes their tempests might cause, they often avoided meeting.
When Calistra decided to become a mother, Seijhe opposed it, foreseeing that descendants of War and Wisdom could threaten existence itself. Yet in refusing her request, he forgot that it is not in pleasure's nature to accept being told no.
So, in an attempt to fulfill her desire, Calistra began creating children on her own, in a way only divinities could.
The result was not what she expected, and frustration soon consumed the goddess.
Instead of children, she birthed winged creatures resembling scaly serpents with two legs and wings so vast they could wrap around great trees.
They were named wyverns—incomplete souls, devoid of intelligence and driven by insatiable hunger, which is why their mother imprisoned them in the dungeons of the Divine.
But Calistra had not given up on having children of her own, so she turned to Seijhe, determined to make him relent. She knew the Lord of Intelligence would not be easily swayed by words, but desire was a weapon she wielded with skill. So she pleased and seduced him until he finally gave in.
When she finally became pregnant, the two chose a distant world to serve as a nursery for their many children, who inherited varying measures of their mother's strength and their father's intelligence, resulting in proud, ambitious natures.
And so, while Calistra recovered from childbirth with Seijhe at her side, the children awoke in the nursery-world.
Naive and unable to coexist, they turned on one another, destroying each other and absorbing the powers of the siblings they slew in battle.
When the two gods returned to admire their creation, they found only a black-haired boy and a girl with hair of fire facing each other with immense wrath, each vying for the glory of being the most powerful descendant of War and Wisdom.
The celestial beings were filled with fury, and for the first time in their short lives, the children knew a fear beyond death.
Yet gazing into those eyes full of dread and innocence, the gods restrained themselves, for neither child understood the atrocity they had committed.
And so they saw the need to separate them.
Seijhe took the girl with him and named her Angel.
As for the boy, Calistra dragged him by the hair and named him Oriel.
With the absorbed power of tens of thousands of siblings, Angel and Oriel grew strong and graceful, subjected to rigorous training to keep them true to their parents' principles—parents to whom they were devoted.
They competed for the attention of the divine beings in eternal rivalry.