by Dianna Hardy
He took two steps towards her; she took two steps back. “Don’t you understand?” he asked. “Our home was like here. We had form, like people; we built things, like people … we died, like people. I was the only one still alive when our ship crash-landed on Tír na nÓg. But Tír na nÓg was not like home. Nothing had form. Everything was made up of light and air and gases – it was chaos … and it was not liveable.
“All of this time, and I have never found out why I was the only one to survive that journey. Lilith’s body, and the bodies of my children had disintegrated into the same air and gases that surrounded us. When Morgana found me, I was in pieces having just lost my family.”
He paused and gazed above her head; what at, she couldn’t tell.
She glanced at the sword with its blade dripping red. She wanted to ask him about it, but daren’t bring his mind back to the Dragon and the present, both of which he appeared to have forgotten about.
“Morgana took pity on me – I would hazard a guess that she found me intriguing, having never seen my species before. Living on Tír na nÓg, my physical body faded, but not to the extent where it killed me like it did my family. Instead, I became ghost-like, floating… Morgana explained that it was simply a transformation – not death. That Tír na nÓg itself encouraged a more heightened state of being that meant losing physical form. That was the first inkling I had, that perhaps my family were not ‘dead’ after all.
“I don’t know how much time passed, because time did not exist in this way, but Morgana, the Queen of Tír na nÓg proceeded to teach me everything of their customs: the language of the fay, their rituals, their magic, their use of energy, their philosophies, and so on, and so on… I drank it all in, for I was a scientist at heart, and I longed to make sense of everything I was learning. Then, one day, she took me to see the Dragons.” His eyes dropped to hers. “And everything changed.”
On instinct, she backed up another step, and the small of her back bumped the tomb.
“On Tír na nÓg, Dragons did not look like you might imagine – remember that nothing had form. They were great, big, shadowed beasts – stretches of blackness that swarmed through the air and ate up everything in its path. Guardians of balance, she called them. Do you know what I saw? I saw the darkness that destroyed my home. I would spend every moment of the rest of my now immortal life, trying to conquer that darkness.” He wobbled on his feet, but regained his composure. “The opportunity came, many moons later, when I was mastering the skill of wielding my will. The environment of Tír na nÓg was murky – a purplish haze that was always constant. I longed to see the twin suns that had graced my home; longed for it so much, that I looked up at the sky, and there they were – I had willed them into being.
“Morgana was thrilled at the strength of my ability. So was I, for different reasons. It would be hard work. I would have to entrap all the Dragons – all that darkness – in one place, so that they would not interfere; I would have to put a boundary up so that they would remain separate from what I wanted to create … but I now knew I could do it: I could will all of my old world into being.”
“I can’t believe it,” whispered Elena, her mind racing as the pieces of his story fell into place. “You willed Tír na nÓg into the image of Heaven – of Eden – because that was the image of your home, and,” her throat constricted at the thought, “you then created man in your own image, because…”
His gaze landed on Lilith’s statue. He dropped his sword and it clattered to the floor. “Because I wanted my family back. Morgana said there is no death – that meant their essence was part of Tír na nÓg, somewhere out there. If I could just manifest that essence into some kind of form, then maybe…” His voice broke with angry grief, too old to fathom, and that wailing pain that had resounded in his mind seemed to bounce off the cavern walls.
“Didn’t Morgana try to stop you?”
“Oh, she did. But she taught me well and my will was stronger than hers. Even so, with all my ability, I couldn’t quite get it right. I created those that we now call angels first – they were supposed to have been in my image, but they were more like light-forms that floated the expanse of Tír na nÓg, which I was now calling Heaven … haven … home, and the light side of The Boundary was the Garden of Eden.
“Abaddon and Lucifer were the closest I managed to Adam, but … still not right…
“A long time after that, I finally did get it right, and I willed my first ‘man’ into being, and he looked just like Adam, not a light-form, but comprised of a body, like I used to have. I wept that day with joy and exhaustion, but quickly learned that he did not act like Adam. My Adam had been compassionate, loving, forgiving… this Adam was rebellious; far too curious about The Boundary that kept out the darkness. I needed a woman to temper him, so…” he paused.
“So, you created Eve,” she choked out, and she did feel strangled. The whole human race was a result of… No. It felt too big to get her head around.
“Yes. From one of his bones. The formula for his existence was so perfect, I needed to achieve the same thing again. This time, I added more light – the very same that formed the twin suns – into my thought process, believing that perhaps Adam was the way he was because the darkness, although contained, still tainted the world.
“Eve was perfect. She had golden hair, just like my Eve, the brightest smile … perfect. Until I caught her at the edge of The Boundary one day.” He swayed again as he spoke faster. “I went into a fear-induced rage – fear that I would lose her to the darkness, like I had so long ago – and she was beside herself with sorrow for causing my anger … and then she showed me what she had been doing there. Eve explained that when she stood at The Boundary and reached into its very centre, she could ‘remember’ things that she had forgotten, and more than that: the energy which she extracted from that source – the very nucleus of Tír na nÓg – even in tiny amounts, was something she could mould into solid matter. And she had moulded … this,” he stared at the effigy on the plinth, stricken, “exactly as you see it now. From some memory she had found by accident, she had reproduced her mother, down to the last detail, only she didn’t realise it was her mother.
“I was shocked, and terrified. This Eve could not remember her family at all, or our original home; neither did Adam, but this … when I saw this…” He began to tremble. “If this really was Lilith, or some part of her, then where was the rest of her? And what about Eve? Where were all her memories? In the crux of Tír na nÓg? I had created her incomplete; I had created some disabled version of my daughter, only half of her there and her other half still somewhere, lost…”
Elena’s stomach lurched.
“I was supposed to protect her.” His voice dropped to barely there. “I was supposed to protect them all. Instead, I ruined them.” He raised a shaking hand towards the plinth. “Eve pointed to the statue she had innocently made and said, ‘This is Lilith. She lives among the shadows on the other side of The Boundary.’”
He bowed his head and a cry tore from him. He tried to muffle it with his fist. “Lilith’s ethereal form had manifested in the darkness. All this time … all this time searching, recreating, and that’s where she was. I had trapped her there – corrupted her. I had to end her. Not just her – I had to undo everything and start again. But Eve caught onto my intention, and she ran. She ran straight across The Boundary and into the darkness, screaming Lilith’s name – not ‘mother’, but Lilith. I tried to terminate everything – her, Adam, Eden, the angels, everything – and begin again, except, when I tried…” he stuttered… “I couldn’t undo it. It was as if my creations had taken on a life of their own, with their own thoughts – they were supposed to bend to my will; after all, they weren’t really … real.
“I did the only thing left to do: with my will, I contained everything that I had created – all of it, including Eve and her manifestation of Lilith – and I cast it out of Heaven so I could start again.”
“The fall of Eden.�
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“Yes. Also called Atlantis – ‘All Land Ends’. Except, it didn’t end. Once separate from Tír na nÓg, instead of dying off, it became its own world, solidifying into rock and water. You called it Earth. Everything took on solid form, as did the angels that chose to leave with mankind – some remained in Heaven bound to my will…
“Whether I liked it or not, because everything I created was from the essence of Tír na nÓg, I was still tied to Earth, as was Heaven, and I needed to control the actions of man in case they brought Heaven down.”
Elena braved another glance at the tainted sword on the floor and took in a breath, “What about the Dragons? How did they become entombed here in the core of Earth?”
God’s lips thinned, in what looked like defeat. His face was deathly pale, and her panic rose for Karl.
“Eve and Lilith were on the other side of The Boundary when I broke Eden away from Heaven. They carried some of the darkness with them and it became planted, here, in the centre of the Earth. And when that darkness took on solid form, it became the Dragons that you see now. Morgana knew it before I did, for she and the fay left Tír na nÓg, which I had ruined for them, and she came to Earth to salvage what she could of her homeland… Ironically, her need was something I understood all too well.
“All I know about the Dragons, from that point on, is that they ceased to function, until two angels, carrying the original essence of Tír na nÓg – one dark, one light – merged, and then bled on the soil of Earth. And here we are.”
He stared at her.
She stared at him.
The silence grew thick, but it was neither of them that broke it – it was Abaddon. “And the award for the worst dad in the world goes to…”
They both turned to the cavern entrance to find an audience of six glaring back. Abaddon looked furious, Lucifer looked sad, Michael looked as if his world had just ended, which she supposed it had; her mother only had eyes for her, as did Katarra, both of them darting their gaze up and down her body to make sure she was okay; and her granddad looked kind of stunned, but also … tired.
“No wonder you felt it acceptable to give us the tasks that you did,” continued Abaddon, spitting out his fury. “We weren’t real to you. We were an experiment; a means to an end.”
God looked stricken. Maybe the ‘dad’ comment had opened a wound. “It wasn’t like that.”
“We just heard every word – it was exactly like that. By the way, hi, Dad – great to see you again. It’s been a long time. And just in case you ever wondered, Hell kinda sucked.”
He flinched. “You were real, Abaddon.”
“Not as real as the family you lost; as the world you lost.”
Michael took a small step forward, trembling like a leaf, crestfallen... “You’re not a God,” he whispered. “You’re just a man.”
God smiled, sadly. “Do you know what ‘God’ means in my mother tongue? It means ‘husband’, and ‘Goddess’ means ‘wife’.
Beloved mother, brave lover, beautiful Goddess … beautiful wife. “You called yourself God,” stated Elena, “in memory of Lilith.”
“Yes,” he replied.
Lucifer turned and walked away.
She saw her mother stare after him, looking uncertain.
Some deep, rolling noise sounded from the centre of the planet, not too far from where they were all standing.
Everyone started.
The Dragon!
God was as white as a sheet now.
“You have blood on your sword. Where did it come from?”
The way he looked at her was almost apologetic. “I came down here to kill the Dragon. I saw many dragons cocooned within eggs. I began culling them, slashing the eggs, hence the blood on my blade … but I made a crucial error in judgement. As you will know by now, since Gawaine and Ymari’s mergence, the Dragons are no longer connected to the fay, but to humans. I forgot who I was. Michael is right.” With trembling fingers, he fumbled with the two buttons that held his coat shut, until they were undone. He pulled back the long lapels to reveal a red T-shirt beneath. “I am no longer a God.”
Elena’s head screamed something at her. It took her a good few seconds to realise what it was.
Her world slipped away.
He wasn’t wearing a red T-shirt, he was wearing a white one – because Karl had been wearing a white one.
It was slashed to pieces.
And soaked in blood.
“I’m a man.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
So much blood…
No! Don’t think about the blood!
But it was impossible not to. “He’s d-dying,” she stammered. “The baby’s dying.”
“No,” growled out Pueblo. “He’s alive and damn strong. All you have to do is hold on.”
She shook her head, weakly. How long had it been since the bleeding had started? Ten minutes? An hour? It felt like an hour. She was exhausted. She hadn’t fully dilated, and she was tired from not pushing. Holding on sucked. “The contractions are getting weaker,” she mumbled.
“Wake up … Amy! Wake up!”
She was shaken until her teeth clashed together.
Annoyed, she stared at her beautiful half-demon through half-closed eyes. “Hey … I want to sleep.”
She heard him curse.
Whatever. Sod him. He wasn’t trying to push baby Godzilla out of his vagina.
“Godzilla?”
Great – there she went saying things aloud again.
A cool, wet towel was swabbed over her forehead. “Mmmmm…”
“She needs blood,” came Zaynolita’s voice.
Hell, she was such a nice female. What a granny – Godzilla’s great granny … a Godzilla granny – Great Granny Godzilla. She chuckled to herself.
“She’s delirious.”
Well, duh! You try giving birth to a dragon!
“Amy, it’s not a dragon, it’s just a boy.”
“No,” she yawned, “it’s the Dragon. Don’t you get it?” Wow, she was sleepy… “The Dragon is rising, and our son is the new God … Godzilla.”
Her head swam, and her eyes closed. Who needed gas and air anyway … endorphins worked great.
She screamed awake and lurched in Pueblo’s arms, her body rippling uncontrollably.
Fucking contractions! All she wanted to do was sleep, was that too much to ask?
A rich, metallic scent, totally different than that of her body's own fluids, tickled her nose, and then she was breathing it in greedily.
“Here.”
She automatically opened her mouth, drooling, all her senses suddenly sharpening as a small, mewling sound left her. It would have embarrassed her, but she was already butt-naked and splayed out for all the world to see, so a little impromptu mewling was hardly an issue.
“That’s my girl,” said Pueblo, and she could hear the smile in his voice.
Her lips closed around his wrist, and his wound wept into her mouth.
Divine!
She sucked at it with need, and the need went straight to her stomach. When was the last meal she’d eaten? Hell, she couldn’t remember.
Grabbing his arm with both hands, she reached deeper for his blood, the shifter in her purring, her teeth elongating and sinking in to his flesh so he couldn’t get away.
She heard a hiss, and then a moan, and then nothing else as his pulse beat in her ears, rushing that liquid life into her body.
“Good!” exclaimed his grandmother. “Good – I can see the head. She is ready. Amy, you can push now. Push, K’landouter … push!”
Her body was ready before she was. Another contraction hit, and, now nourished with her bonded’s blood, she followed the movement of her womb bearing down.
“Again!”
The contractions were back full force, one after the other, no gap between them. She rode them – a surfer on waves.
She arched her back and bent her knees further, pushing downwards, following nothing but the primal urge of
her body.
“Again!”
She braced herself on Pueblo’s shoulders, leaning forwards on her arms.
He took her weight without faltering, a fierce pride in his eyes. “You can do this.”
She blinked her concurrence as she rode out another flood of pain, and yes, she could do this. Because not doing it, was not an option.
~*~
His knees bent and he collapsed, Elena’s shout preceding his contact with the ground.
How had she not sensed this? He’d been swaying and pale…
Fuck. She’d been so thrown back by that vision; so immersed in his story; so fearful of the sword and how he might have harmed the Dragon…
“No!” She fell down beside him. Her hands went to his chest, and she immediately pulled them back, her eyes welling … Oh, no. They had literally sunk into his skin, the skin itself slick; the blood loss making it both soft and doughy. His entire torso was a river. “No, no, no … Karl…”
There was commotion around her, but she couldn’t lift her head to take any of it in.
“He’s gone,” God rasped out.
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What have you done, what have you done…”
“Elena!” Her mother grasped her chin and turned her face towards her.
Elena barely saw her, although she could make out that her lips were moving.
“Did you hear me? The eggs are cracking. We need to go.”
“No.” That was out of the question. “I’m staying.”
“Not a bloody chance.”
“I’m not leaving him!”
“Elena, you’ve done this before…”
“And he lived – he lived. What if he can again? I can heal him.”
“You would be healing God, not Karl.”
She stared at her mum, aghast.
“Elena, he fused with Karl. You cannot separate them.”
“She’s right…”
