…Why ask the question? It is natural to ponder the Beginning. Though speech of her has dwindled, she is ever present in the eye of this form. Perhaps it is mere regret at what was done, but the Precious Living feel in their hearts a guilt, even now. Millennia and eons later. This form can understand. But not comprehend.
To speak well of her is to temporarily give shape, though no longer can these limbs reach out for divinity in the sense of passion displayed. No. Only faint reflections of what was. What can no longer be. So, speak of domain, speak of course. Abstraction, for this form cannot explain what either the Beginning or End do. The domain, stucci, cannot be spoken in the tongues of living. Too complex, too simple. To be a part of everything and nothing. To be defined simply by another, that which one cannot be. How confusing an existence. Flux. Movement. Her brother, the End has worked hard to pick up slack. How interesting. How futile.
The Beginning was soft spoken, not very pronounced, but her presence was immaculate. The grace of the sunrise, the first breath of air, the kiss of a new lover. Entrancing, but harsh as the others. The frost of winter, the heartbreak of the first day alone. Her spade cuts deep, turning new earth. The route for all the move. Her shrine, white and crisp atop the marble columns of the great Mount Papaver, now lies asleep, covered in dust. Seldom few are the sad offerings, tell of what value is there in worshiping a corpse? Does a god still hold sacredness when expired? Why are they worshipped at all? Never asked. Never demanded. Never ordered. ... In spite of it all, this form still finds itself there from time to time. Alone. Regretful.
Funny then, how the Beginning and the End were made last. Perhaps therein lays the flaw. Shame it was not seen. Shame this world cannot rest. Neither can this form.
Aelita brushed her hand across the black obsidian archway. Her duty demanded the focus, but the shrine located at the deepest portion of the Rhoeas Valley never brought much comfort. The jagged rock formations and aggressive clouds that plagued the region, threating storms but never breaking, were the sign of the new god who had taken residence there. Little comfort taken at the sight of the myriad red flowers blooming over every possible flat surface, but something about them still brought the sensation of peace. As if whatever this “God of the End” had in store was something kind, a release. Fear eroded away once she passed through the entrance, but the cold stone still made her shiver. This place would take more getting used to.
The outer sanctum of the shrine was simple. An altar adorned with the flowers and various leaves. Strong smells of tea and honey flooded her nose as she briefly corrected the arrangement. A few red silks hung loosely from above, stubbornly refusing to remain tied to the columns they should be attached to. She bit her lip and let her fingers to the work, listening for any change in the hall. Few visitors had come, she had heard the rumblings of fear at this god and the concerns of the folks around her. A few had threated newly rotten vegetables at her for her service to this place, a rudeness she couldn’t defend. Still she understood, and merely chose to avoid open streets in the sun. Still, the parchment folded in her cloak from the Order seemed heavy. Though she was not deigned to read it. The message was spoken to her though, just enough for her status.
No noises. Aelita mused internally. Though she perked up at the sudden static in the air, a low and gentle melody sinking through her very skin. Indications the god had returned to the inner chamber. She moved to the back wall of the outer sanctum, drawing her finger along a carving and whispering the blessing. A crimson glow bubbled out the black rock following just behind her finger. Her body felt light, and closing her eyes, she slid her fingers through the stone. Pressing forward, her body followed suit into the private realm.
Out of respect, she quickly flipped the fabric of her veil over her face, the dark cloth blocking her sight near completely, only the vaguest outlines of columns to mark her path forward. Some red from the rug below her feet slipped through if she was looking down, but the energy in the room made it nauseating to do so. She folded her hands into here robes, doing her best to cross the room, single step by single step. Gentle laughter filled her ears, her chest, her soul as the god spotted her. She froze in place, and slowly dropped to her knees.
The sound of bells filled her ears as the god spoke. “Aelita, starlight and shine. Once more gracing with appearance, kind.” Wind fluttered around her, the gravitas of his magnitude standing before her, the hair on her arms raising in response to the electrical forces.
“Your Reverence,” She bowed her body, pressing her forehead to the floor for a moment before returning to her kneeling position. “I am here on business from-“
Laughter, bubbling through her. “Business, pleasure, work. All one. How strong.” A force of a hand under her chin, soft, gentle, lifted her head up. Tension in her muscles melted. “So dedicated. Fortunate soul. This form offers delight in lack of distress. Rest assured, all is due in cycle and time. Nothing needless. Understood?” She kept her mouth shut, waiting for permission to speak. Though told of how strange the gods could be, no words could explain what her opinions of this god were. Only here for so little time, yet it felt as though she knew him forever. “Pereax, this form has much to say and do. Distinctions to make. Balance, made and-“
“Delivered course.” A high pitched whirling slipped in from behind her, and the room grew colder, frost gently coating her skin. The monotonous voice continued. “Adamsa Frisay, astur novun.”
Sparks coursed through the stone, crossing a few crystals of hematite, lighting the room enough to grant vague outlines of their mystical, nonsensical forms even from behind Aelita’s veil. She quickly bowed lower, trembling slightly under the pressure of both gods. The God of the End spoke excitedly. “Fori! Narcissta Priasi torum, vu.” The language of the gods cut her ears, the notes fusing and falling around her in an intoxicating display. Her body began trembling.
“Ah, forgive these forms, Pereax.” Her god requested quickly, placing a solid hand on her back. “Sister, be gentle, this one is cared.”
A chill ran up Aelita’s spine. “So it would seem.” The flat, emotionless voice seemed almost mechanical, being generated word for word in the moment. “Trivial and small. No means. How cruel.”
“Varrum. Discussions carried in private.” He reminded gently, before perking up again. “Aelita, this form notices thou only enters this place for purposes. Please excuse our intrusions to thine tasks. What words are trapped in the flesh of tongues?”
“Yes. Break silence. It is unbecoming.” The goddess agreed coldly.
“As you request, Your Reverences.” The scent of flowers and ozone filled her nose as she sat up once more, the warmth of her deity’s hand taking hers gently. “I have on my person a request from my Order, a correspondence. A meeting. They require both of your presences, should you be willing to grant it.” Her free hand fished out the parchment, holding it out between her fingers. “I would assume a similar message is being taken to your shrine as well, Alabaster one.”
The chilled touch of something not quite flesh, not quite plant took it swiftly from her. “How bold.” The goddess stated.
“How interesting.” The god agreed.
“Causation follows through, sister.”
“Unlikely. Odds placed solidly against such things.”
“But forever the chance remains.”
The two went back and forth for some time, Aelita struggling to make out the hidden parts of their conversation. The extremes of their duet making the walls of the room vibrate in time with their frequencies, her own body trapped between the ebb and flow.
“Fear is the potency of ire, brother.”
“Then what better a way to change that?” He countered swiftly, almost gleefully. “How would this form change that by remaining unknowable? Efforts must be made.”
A certain shift in the air and their music died down. “Very well.” The goddess agreed. “Chances made forever taken. Pereax, return to your Order.” Her emotionless command forcing Aelita to her feet. “Tell them to be prepared. Dawn breaking quickly.”
“O-of course, Your Reverence.” Aelita bowed her head once more before turning on her heel to leave the gods to their privacy. A terrible weight fell in the pit of her stomach, as if she had done something wrong. Though, everything was carried out to all specifications. She bit her lip and slipped through the stone, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but here.
The God of the End watched as she vanished, finally turning to The Goddess of the Beginning and muttering excitedly. “It will turn over.”
“A new era.” The goddess agreed, though even her brother could not make out her meaning. She vanished in a flutter of white feathers, leaving him to his shrine alone.
(OC-tober challenge by @oc-tober2022 can be found here.)
