EONS AGO , WHEN THEIR POWER WAS at its peak , there would have been punishment of sorts . they would have pulled away to remind them that they were expendable , that they could find another to take their place and shower them with talents and the idea of love . remind them that anyone would be lucky to be able to fall to their knees in front of them , would never question their place among the deity's beloved . but that was so long ago that sleep can barely REMEMBER THE FACES of the first chosen . the faces of those who had come before all and brought their word to full power across the land .
but now , with power and life at a low , they can't risk throwing any of the chosen away , can't risk pushing their vessel from their presence or making them feel unwanted , unneeded . in truth , they would not survive were it not for the worship of her vessels , of her first and numerals . it is easy to put on an air of confidence , of COMPLETE SEPARATION AND UNCARING . but , the longer they remain connected to those closer to humanity than they , they fall victim to emotions , to the weakness of love and tenderness . feelings that they have spent centuries scoffing at , swearing they needed nothing of it .
but standing here in a dream woven paradise , they know THEY WERE WRONG .
their freehand reaches to rest against their vessel's chest , lavender eyes studying the six peering down at them . sincerity . every word their chosen speaks is laced in sincerity and it reminds them why they are their first , why they are the one they allow to trespass and fumble until they find their way back . there has never been another follower who has looked at them WITH SUCH CARE , such fear of losing them . and in those moments , they allow their heart to beat , to call out to the cavity in their chest to fill it with their own form of love , a warmth to remind them they are forever their chosen .
it never ceases to surprise them when vessel allows themself to speak their full truth , everything that is on their mind , every fear and desire they have and trust sleep to keep the fragile hopes tangled in THEIR PLANS . perhaps it's the humanity that's seeped into their core that has softened them . but when their first drops to their knees and wraps their arms around their legs , there's a part of them that melts ever so slightly . hands move to rest against the top of vessel's head and they wait , let their words spill against flesh so that they know they are heard .
it is after the silence that SLEEP DROPS TO THEIR KNEES before the vessel , hands moving to cup the masked face of the other , fingers tracing against the edge , encouraging them to let them see their true self . not the visage they show the world . " there will always be a place for you by my side , my love . " and while those words would usually be tainted in manipulative promises , they are not . " you are my chosen . there have been many before you who wished that they could be where you are but THEY WERE NEVER ENOUGH . they were never given the gifts i've blessed upon you . they were messengers ... while you are a vessel . i have given you a piece of me to keep you able to remain here , by my side . for when the day comes that i have risen ... i will need a protector , a knight . and i see no one else i would rather have . "
