Five Immortal Hearts

by Savannah Rose

  Raw taught me so much, I couldn’t begin to list how he changed my world, how he changed life and living for me.

  And Ore. The closeness, the protectiveness. There was too much to put into words.

  All of them swirled into my soul, brilliant, and devastating, at once.

  ***

  Ore woke me with a tray of food, which he called Lunch in Bed. I smiled, and scooted over, inviting him into bed with me. I felt so young with him – so open and playful. He told me he was the Dragon of Wonder and Discovery, and perhaps that was the cause for the alteration in my mood. Because I felt wonder with him, the wonder that young people have. Kids, looking at the stars, wondering…

  After I ate, we lay together, heads on pillows, talking. My hands removed his clothing while we kissed. His lithe muscular body was hairless, his skin smooth and he smelt of fresh hay and leather. His hair was a textural fascination to my fingers. While his body was a young man’s, his cock was a full size model. Until he hardened though, it really wasn’t all that important to me. When he did, however, it was my pleasure to bring him to bliss.

  “Are you the oldest?” I asked, after.

  He looked thoughtful for a moment, and then said with a shrug, “I don’t know. By the time the question of who was oldest came up, we had forgotten who came first and when. Then, as now, it felt like we’ve always been together.”

  Other than each of them having strange blue eyes and an odd feel about them – as being human and ancient at the same time – they were very different in size, shape and even skin tone. “The others seem to hold you in high regard, and it feels like they see you as the eldest,” I ventured.

  “It’s my powers,” he told me. “For some reason, my powers affect them, but theirs don’t affect me or each other.”

  “Also, you were the first with Inanna, I was told,” I pressed, though this news about his powers was interesting as well. “What did you say to her? What did you say that swept her heart away?”

  He turned and looked up at the ceiling, his eyes looking back over the distance of more than ten thousand years. “I told her, that sex wasn’t a conquest, and war was not love. That subjugation was not marriage. To kill me if those were the things she respected, because I had no wish to live in a world where my wife was my slave.”

  Wow. I thought to myself.

  He turned his head, meeting my eyes. “I’m not sure of my exact words, but beating a woman into submission, so she would agree to marry me, had no interest for me. If that was what she needed, I was never going to be her partner, or husband.”

  That would have done it for me.

  Mostly we remained in bed, then we went out on the balcony after sunset and looked at the stars. He told me stories, showed me constellations from Egypt, China, India, and Greece.

  “Really, it’s better to see them up there,” he said, still looking up there.

  “Up where?” I asked. “Above the clouds?”

  He glanced at me with that soft boyish grin. “Above the moon.”

  I gasped.

  Taking my hand, he asked, “Want to go?”

  Oh my god, I thought, yes. Then realized I hadn’t said anything – “Yes?”

  He was no longer man and I realized something I’d probably already known- there’s no fucking way I’m ever getting bored of seeing him in his dragon form. Of seeing any of them in this form.

  His wings lifted us higher, majestic strokes carrying us to a place mortals only dream of. I held on tight, not afraid at all.

  We continued to soar, higher and higher. Snow fell around us out of a clear sky. The flurry grew thicker, and then into a white out. I felt a rush of motion. Cold laced and licked my skin. Then the suit that Raw created for me, covered my skin.

  I felt weight, like I grew in size and pounds – and then sudden weightlessness took over and the snow drifted away like cherry blossom petals do in Japan. We were out past the dark side of the moon; drifting in the nothingness of space.

  How was I breathing? How could I be here and not explode? Why did my blood not vaporize? Panic seared my mind! Terror. There was nothing to touch – until I felt his hand in mine.

  I looked to him and he smiled, then he looked up toward the Milky Way. I looked there too and lost my terror, and my breath. Then, my eyes focused on Ore again, and his one mine.

  Ever since meeting these brothers, I’ve learned more about intimacy than I ever expected I would. Gained more experience in those short moments than I was able to acquire my entire existence before them. I wanted to kiss Ore. I wanted his tongue slick against mine, his body so close it felt more a part of mine than the suit I wore. But standing where I was, chin up, my gaze fixed on his, I couldn’t move. I’ve learned intimacy from these men. So many different kinds and in so many different ways. Now, I was learning an intimacy that didn’t require physical touch.

  Ore’s eyes were a window to his soul. They pulled me in, did things to my heart that should not be possible. Did things to my body that bordered on impossible. So much meaning. So much unspoken pain. Not of all he’s experienced, but of all he would experience once a decision was made.

  In his eyes, I saw that he needed me. Not just to strengthen his influence on the world, but to strengthen the beats of his heart.

  In my eyes, I’m sure he saw the same thing.

  How long we were away from earth, I don’t know. Wonder filled me, as if my blood were replaced by its liquid form. Much too soon, if any time could have been too long, the snow returned, and then the feeling of weight, and then the balcony in Tijuana. I felt like I was a spirit, fallen and now trapped in flesh. It took a long time for that sensation to leave me. Long after a hot shower, three drinks and a mind ripping orgasm from him in my bed.

  Nude, I sat with him out on the balcony. Looking at the stars, only now, they felt like a place I longed to be, again.

  When I woke, he was gone. So was my ring. Sunlight, for the first time in my life, felt dingy.

  Out in the main room, on the desk was a small jade bowl, with the sides so thin they were translucent. Inside the bowl were five rings. My rings.

  My choice.

  Fuck.

  The House of Inanna

  Inanna

  Queen of Heaven

  Goddess, of, desire, love, sex, fertility, beauty, war, justice, political power and justice

  Imagine for a moment, that you know exactly what you want, and you know exactly how to get it. I say, imagine, because that’s a rare point in space, and time, where those lines converge.

  Often, we know what we want, but have no clue how to get there. Sometimes we are given the choice of anything we want, but can’t figure out what we need or really desire. When both align in the stars, it’s a rare moment — so rare it can feel frightening if you aren’t sure what has happened.

  So, imagine.

  When those stars align it feels like a bright day, with the sun high over a grassy meadow of new growth, surrounded by lush and fawn. The heat of the sun warms your skin at a perfect degree for the western wind to keep you cool. Let’s face it, you’ll fall in love more often than this moment occurs in your life, right?

  There you are, out there in the middle of this mountain paradise, and on the edges, around you, stand five men. Each of them lead to the same place — the exact place you want to go. Each of them is a path to that place. Yet, each of them is unique. And you are unique with each of them.

  Each one coupled with you creates far more than just the two of you could measure. A newness is born, a wonder so wild it moves your hair like a zephyr when you feel it. Hell, just knowing he is with you, alters you in ways you never imagined — and when he’s holding your hand, the feeling is indomitable.

  With them, you are a kaleidoscope of experiences and nuance.

  Now, take a hammer, and break four of those glass rings.

  Shatter all you are with each of the others, and choose — one.

  “I am so fucked,” I whispered.

&nbs
p; “Excuse me dear?” Inanna asked.

  “Oh, just thinking about tonight,” I told her.

  “Ah, well, I think you’re fucked, but don’t take that to heart,” she said, picking up some flowers, and sorting them in her hand.

  “Jeez, thanks,” I grimaced.

  “You don’t like being fucked? I do. I like it a lot,” she smiled.

  Her house was about twelve kilometers East of the Euphrates river. Maybe 55km East of Samawah. The small town of Warka in Iraq is close to where Uruk use to be – a couple kilometers North. Urik is a ruins on the surface, in our time. You can only reach Inanna’s house outside of time, by dragon. Her house is not a ruin, and far more modern than I expected as my dragon descended into an area that looked like a lot of dirt in all directions. But from the sky, there are plenty of signs, which say at one time, this land was green and well-watered. It was the cradle of life. Hell, according to Genesis, Eden was only a few kilometers away. Obviously, the garden is located outside of time now as well, but the description of the area given in Genesis is fairly clear.

  The garbage disposal and wireless Internet connection told me I wasn’t dealing with real physics – or physics I understood, anyway, which was just about all of it. OK, I understood none of it – I’m not even good at chemistry.

  “Ore set up the wireless,” she explained. “Raw did all of the plumbing.”

  The house was like a huge royal garden. White lattice rails formed a ceiling of sorts, about twenty feet above – some areas with wide spaces and glass covering, some areas the lattice created intricate designs of flowers, dolphins, and scenes with humans and gods, trees and temples.

  Climbing nearly every wall were jasmine vines, trimmed and thinned out so that they didn’t create big bunches or bushes. The scent of them licked every breath. Sandalwood benches carved with delicate scenes of lovers and fantastical beasts, were spaced out adding their light but unmistakable scent to the air.

  Plants created room separators, such as the Arabian balsam tree, and lilac bush, which was more of a shrub really, and the tree a source of myrrh, which is derived from its sap. Walls created of marble stone — polished to a beautiful and vibrant gloss created bedrooms, and other areas of the house.

  Inside this amazing creation were also electric lights, huge flat TV screens, laptop computers, and one of those voice operated things they sold now.

  Paintings on easels stood everywhere – though I had the feeling that while they were good, they were copies of the master pieces. Inanna confirmed this when I asked, saying it wasn’t right to remove such treasures from the world to hide in this space where they could no longer be accessible to the people who created them.

  By people she meant the general population, not just the small army of servants, and workers from all over the world who worked the gardens, cleaned the floors, polished, trimmed, and did all manner of other jobs around the place. Each of these people believed they worked at a local private home, and arrived here through a long driveway past a large gate. None of them realized where they really were or who they worked for. Since all of them seemed happy, this didn’t bother me.

  Inanna moved like a mime might portray a predator walking through the house, only more subtle, and graceful. The edge was there, however. Her voice tone carried, yet remained soft and patent. She wasn’t the Goddess Inanna, which she reminded me three times thus far. The Goddess, the original, was in Ireland – or somewhere else. They didn’t keep in touch. To her, Inanna was a tittle, as it would be for me.

  “My parents named me Karen,” she told me, the first day I arrived. “That was over two hundred years ago.”

  Right now she was busy creating flower arrangements, something she was wonderful at, and enjoyed. I sat watching her, trying to keep my thoughts away from the brothers, and failing miserably.

  “You see that covered cake plate over there? There’s a pound cake inside, could you bring it over?” she asked me.

  After I set it on the table she handed me what looked like a Ming Dynasty vase. The kind with the pot belly and narrow neck. Not too narrow, but perhaps half the width of the belly.

  “There’s a knife on the counter. Could you put the cake inside?” she asked.

  “Alright,” I shrugged, looking at the round pound cake, which was like a huge donut. Taking the knife and looking at the width of the vase neck once more, I cut the cake into pieces and put them inside. I had to be careful because the vase walls were thin and fragile. If I tried to put in a piece too large, it would shatter the wall.

  “Perfect,” she said, when I had finished.

  “So, what are you going to do after I move in?” I asked.

  “Well, I’m going to die of course,” she said.

  “What!?” I said, alarmed.

  “You don’t need to be like that,” she said. “Trust me, I’m ready. I feel it. I’m mortal, just like you. My youthful looks are maintained by the Inanna strain, but I’m over two hundred years old, and frankly, I’m ready to move on. I feel a longing to be elsewhere.”

  “Elsewhere?” I asked.

  “I don’t know how else to describe it. It’s not a place I know or have ever seen. I feel the need to be there though, like I should have been there long ago. There’s nothing else left for me here. People will miss me. I know that, but only because they aren’t ready to move on themselves yet; but I am. I can’t wait for them. In waiting I’ll just meet more people, who will then miss me as well. I can’t wait for all of them.”

  “I suppose not,” I said, not feeling any better about her leaving so soon.

  She gave me a kind smile. “I’ve been waiting for you to grow up all your life. Y’know, I was there in the hospital when you were born. Most of the time we don’t feel the Other until a couple years after her birth, but I felt it when you were conceived. I flew to you as soon as I could, and talked with your mother a couple of times. I even felt you moving inside her womb with my hand, twice.”

  She smiled, looking back across time to picture the moments. “I was so happy you were there, so very happy. Since then, life has been good again. It was getting hard there for a while. Dark. All was dim. Not even the stars on the far side of the moon were bright any longer. I watched cherry blossoms fall with longing – longing to be them – jealous I wasn’t floating away too.”

  She turned her attention back to her flower arrangement, and with a glance, gave me a shy smile, “Don’t feel bad, OK? Just wish me well. You’ll be passed most of my memories. You’ll see I was happy, and you’ll have some understanding of my growing sadness until you arrived.”

  “Alright,” I nodded, not sure I could do as she asked. Despite everything that happened before, I felt close to her; closer to her than to my mother. It was odd, but there was nothing for it – it just was.

  Inanna returned my smile, then turned more serious and set the new flowers into the arrangement. When I stepped around behind her, I could see the placements created a Phoenix, rising out of darkness.

  Inanna took my hand, “Now, let’s talk about your choice.”

  Decisions Decisions

  “I don’t have a choice,” I told her. “None. When this started, it was clear, and obvious. Now, it’s clear as mud, and impossible. Even when I push all of my own longings and love aside, and try to choose impartially – who is best for the world; I have no answer. They all are. They all have qualities we need. There is no best.”

  She studied me for a moment, “Well, surely we can cross Ore off the list, right? His vision and strength lies in Wonder and Discovery. He took you to the dark side of the moon, and showed you the grandeur of the stars, right? How is that a world need?”

  I straightened up. “I think we need Ore more than ever right now. We need wonder and discovery. If for no other reason than to shatter the drab and dingy lives we lead.”

  “Sure,” she said, “but didn’t that view of the stars make you feel insignificant? Who needs that?”

  “Yes, it was overwhelming,
and yes its grandeur made me insignificant in comparison – but my insignificance as part of that grandeur was one hundred times more magnificent than my most narcissistic, ego driven delusion of importance. With that awakening moment, I now know what I am a part of – and the liberation from the shell I wore before is breath-taking.”

  “OK,” she said, “but what about Quinn. Surely this notion of god is outdated. We should move on from these ludicrous superstitions and define ourselves under stronger foundations.”

  “If God did not exist, it would be necessary to invent him. Voltaire said that. And because of Quinn, I believe that it’s true. There are things about the human experience which requires God to exist. We can’t know everything, and yet we must have answers, and we need to believe in the feeling that everything will be alright in the end. That the unjust will be punished and the just will be rewarded; that there’s a court above the world’s corruption, and above the ignorant ties and strings of worldly concerns. That God is in his heaven, and all is right with the world.”

  She studied me for a moment, “And Raw? Do we need war? Wouldn’t we be better if war was not an option? Certainly not the go-to option of our species.”

  I felt firm on this topic when I said. “And who better to show us that war is not the answer than the dragon of war, who knows every tactic, every nuance, every excuse and justification? Who better to show us it’s never going to work, it’s never going to change, no matter how many missiles and warheads we have, it’s just not going to work. You cannot bomb people into believing. You cannot overwhelm people into trusting and obeying. It doesn’t work. Humans do not work that way. And we have known this since before the crusades. Not one person was converted during the crusades, and yet we still believe force will convert those who do not accept our god. Who could show us this insanity better than Raw?”