12-24-2017, 04:46 PM
Armande felt awe at the childlike purity of her gaze. He'd seen the sun lift itself over the Mediterranean as he grew up in Sicily. He'd watched the eastern sky turn purple and then pink to radiate an ever increasing heat to the Libyan desert. He'd awakened early in his fur lined tent to see the rays of the dawn limn the tips of the Himalyan peaks. He'd camped beneath the shelter of Ayer's rock in the outback and watched the slow molasses like creep of sunlight across the mighty wall. He'd emerged from the Navajo hogan, scent of fresh ceder timbers heady in his nostrils, out into the absolute silence of Monument Valley to watch the sun carve out swathes of snow from the deep blue shadows of the night.
He'd seen the sun rise in climes and environs across the globe and marvelled at every single one of them.
But he had never seen a sunrise like the one before him. It was as if he had new eyes. He could see Valeriya and the spectacle before them and he couldn't decide which was more breathtaking.
His breath misted but he barely noticed as he felt her rough tiny hands reach out to his own larger calloused ones. And for some reason he was overwhelmed with emotion. The ache deep inside, the one he had walled off, had continued its spiderwebbed cracking, and now it asserted itself.
She transformed, for just a moment. Shifted form, became slightly younger, her features altering slightly. The eyes were the same, though. God help him. He trembled. She still pulled at him. He blinked away moisture, felt the cold air on his eye lashes, and she was Valeriya again.
His jaw worked, lips and tongue moving almost imperceptably. A word. A name. Never to cross his lips again. But just the sub vocal movement was enough to stab him, to rip his heart out. Lissandra.
What fate doing to him? Unknotting every carefully tied emotion. Battering down every wall he'd erected. Sunlight burning away every shadowed cornor of his soul he'd hidden.
He tried the Chongg Ran but peace eluded him. He stood on the cusp of a precipice. He'd been there once before, when the succubus had taken his daughter. He'd taken a pledge, then, a vow. Never again. The knife had been quick, the procedure routine, as the doctor had said. No spawn would ever emerge from him again.
He was the savior of man, not its destroyer. He found himself staring at Valeriya. Fate had brought them together. War was still coming. And they had a role to play.
No man or woman would watch their son or daughter be killed at the capricious whims of the gods. No creatures of darkness would steal the heart of a family, a son or daughter.
The innocense on her face is what he fought for. The stolen innocense of Lissandra. The preservation of the terribly beautiful and wonderfully raw human race. There was no price too high to pay, to protect the smile and tears that shone from her face, bathed in that divine light. No sacrifice too great to prevent any child from being stolen from her parents, replaced by a succubus.
The precipice stood before him, an infinite void. Someone was planning. Had always been planning. He'd followed those plans, he realized. Without knowing. Believing he was in control. A lie. And yet.... he was where he needed to be. With who he needed to be with. It had always been so.
He took a deep breath, the heat of the newly born sun on his face, and made a decision. Faith. He stepped off the cliff, surrendering in complete trust. He was the instrument the world had been given.
He turned to her and gently wiped away one tear from her cheek. "Do not call me Father Rasputin or Father Regus. I am Armande. Just Armande. And you are not the Eye of the Khylsty, not anymore. You are the Mother."
The fingertips of his right hand traced the side of her face, from temple and eyebrow, lightly down the side of her cheek, her jaw, down to the side of her neck. Her pulse was strong and steady, skin hot.
They were bathed in the strengthening sunlight, the freshly born rays of dawn hallowing them. Purpose gathered around him like a cloak. He felt powerful with the potency of youth long in the past. "You are mine. Now and forever. Together, you and I will bring salvation to mankind."
Eyes open, he bent down his head to press his lips against hers.
Edited by Regus, Dec 25 2017, 01:01 AM.
He'd seen the sun rise in climes and environs across the globe and marvelled at every single one of them.
But he had never seen a sunrise like the one before him. It was as if he had new eyes. He could see Valeriya and the spectacle before them and he couldn't decide which was more breathtaking.
His breath misted but he barely noticed as he felt her rough tiny hands reach out to his own larger calloused ones. And for some reason he was overwhelmed with emotion. The ache deep inside, the one he had walled off, had continued its spiderwebbed cracking, and now it asserted itself.
She transformed, for just a moment. Shifted form, became slightly younger, her features altering slightly. The eyes were the same, though. God help him. He trembled. She still pulled at him. He blinked away moisture, felt the cold air on his eye lashes, and she was Valeriya again.
His jaw worked, lips and tongue moving almost imperceptably. A word. A name. Never to cross his lips again. But just the sub vocal movement was enough to stab him, to rip his heart out. Lissandra.
What fate doing to him? Unknotting every carefully tied emotion. Battering down every wall he'd erected. Sunlight burning away every shadowed cornor of his soul he'd hidden.
He tried the Chongg Ran but peace eluded him. He stood on the cusp of a precipice. He'd been there once before, when the succubus had taken his daughter. He'd taken a pledge, then, a vow. Never again. The knife had been quick, the procedure routine, as the doctor had said. No spawn would ever emerge from him again.
He was the savior of man, not its destroyer. He found himself staring at Valeriya. Fate had brought them together. War was still coming. And they had a role to play.
No man or woman would watch their son or daughter be killed at the capricious whims of the gods. No creatures of darkness would steal the heart of a family, a son or daughter.
The innocense on her face is what he fought for. The stolen innocense of Lissandra. The preservation of the terribly beautiful and wonderfully raw human race. There was no price too high to pay, to protect the smile and tears that shone from her face, bathed in that divine light. No sacrifice too great to prevent any child from being stolen from her parents, replaced by a succubus.
The precipice stood before him, an infinite void. Someone was planning. Had always been planning. He'd followed those plans, he realized. Without knowing. Believing he was in control. A lie. And yet.... he was where he needed to be. With who he needed to be with. It had always been so.
He took a deep breath, the heat of the newly born sun on his face, and made a decision. Faith. He stepped off the cliff, surrendering in complete trust. He was the instrument the world had been given.
He turned to her and gently wiped away one tear from her cheek. "Do not call me Father Rasputin or Father Regus. I am Armande. Just Armande. And you are not the Eye of the Khylsty, not anymore. You are the Mother."
The fingertips of his right hand traced the side of her face, from temple and eyebrow, lightly down the side of her cheek, her jaw, down to the side of her neck. Her pulse was strong and steady, skin hot.
They were bathed in the strengthening sunlight, the freshly born rays of dawn hallowing them. Purpose gathered around him like a cloak. He felt powerful with the potency of youth long in the past. "You are mine. Now and forever. Together, you and I will bring salvation to mankind."
Eyes open, he bent down his head to press his lips against hers.
Edited by Regus, Dec 25 2017, 01:01 AM.