THE DIVINITY OF DIRT

CHAPTER 19: THE ARCHITECT OF LIES

CHAPTER 19: THE ARCHITECT OF LIES

The air in the golden manor had grown cold, a sterile, heavenly chill that lacked any human warmth. Aurelius stood in the center of the library, his wings tucked tightly against his back. He was staring at a portrait of Elara, his brow furrowed in a matured-minded agony. He knew she was important. He knew his soul had once burned for her. But the why was slipping through his fingers like dry sand.

"You look troubled, brother."

Aurelius spun around. Standing in the doorway was not the shadow-clad Malakor he remembered, but a version of Malakor bathed in soft, deceptive white. He looked "sexy" and radiant, his violet eyes softened into a faux-caring amber.

"I have forgotten," Aurelius whispered, his voice cracking with a "powerful" vulnerability. "The High Father takes a piece of her from me every hour. I look at her and I feel a debt, but I no longer feel the fire."

Malakor stepped closer, his touch "loving and caring" as he placed a hand on Aurelius’s shoulder. "That is because she is not your lover, Aurelius. She is your anchor. You didn't stay because of love; you stayed because she cast a mortal spell on you. She trapped a sun in a jar to keep her garden warm."

THE POISONED MEMORY

"No," Aurelius gasped, though his weakening memory offered no defense. "She is... she is Elara."

"She is a thief," Malakor countered, his voice a "romantic" hiss. "Look at her. She sits in a chair of gold that you bled for. She watches you fade while she grows bright. Is that love, or is that consumption?"

At that moment, the doors creaked open. Elara rolled into the room. Her oblong face was gaunt from lack of sleep, her eyes red-rimmed from "extra emotional" weeping. She saw the two brothers—one a hollow God, the other a beautiful lie.

"Aurelius, get away from him!" she cried, her voice filled with a "powerful and loving" desperation.

Aurelius didn't move toward her. He recoiled. "He says I am your prisoner, Elara. He says these walls are not a temple, but a cage."

THE RAW VULNERABILITY

Elara felt the emotional self-pity shatter into a fierce, protective rage. She didn't look at Malakor; she looked only at her husband.

"Is this a cage?" she asked, her voice dropping to a matured-minded whisper. She reached out and took Aurelius’s hand, pulling it toward her long, attractive legs. "Does a prisoner do this?"

She took his hand and placed it against her cheek, then moved it down to her heart, which was thudding with a "caring and emotional" rhythm. "I am the girl who laughed when you burnt the pancakes. I am the girl who held you when you were a man and you were bleeding. If this is a cage, Aurelius, then why are the doors open? Why don't you fly away?"

Aurelius looked down at her, his eyes flickering. The touch of her skin was the only thing the High Father couldn't erase—the "sensual" memory of her warmth.

"Because..." Aurelius choked out, "because when I am near you, I feel like I am finally home. Even if I don't remember the address."

THE CLASH OF LIGHT AND DARK

Malakor’s face distorted, the "caring" mask slipping to reveal the jagged darkness beneath. "He will forget you by midnight, girl! And then I will take what is left of his divinity and leave you to rot in this chair!"

Malakor lunged, but Elara did something "unpredictable." She didn't scream for help. She threw herself from her golden chair, her long, attractive legs collapsing beneath her as she fell into Aurelius’s arms.

The impact of her body against his—the raw, human weight of her—triggered a "powerful" surge of reality. Aurelius caught her, his "matured-minded" instinct to protect her overriding the High Father’s erasure.

"I have you," Aurelius roared, his wings erupting in a blast of true, golden fire that sent Malakor crashing back into the shadows. "I may forget her name, brother, but my arms will never forget the weight of her!"

Malakor vanished into a cloud of obsidian smoke, his parting laugh echoing like a curse. "Midnight is coming, Sun King. Let’s see how well you hold her when you don't even know who she is."

THE ROMANTIC VIGIL

Aurelius carried Elara back to the bed, his touch "extra loving and caring." He laid her down and curled his massive, glowing body around her fragile one.

"I am losing the words, Elara," he whispered into her hair, his tears hot against her neck. "The memories are turning to white mist. But I promise you... as long as my heart beats, it will beat in your direction."

Elara held him, her heart breaking and mending at the same time. "Then don't remember me with your mind, Aurelius. Remember me with your skin. Remember me with your breath."

They lay there in the fading light, two souls tethered by a love that was being deleted by the heavens, waiting for the clock to strike twelve.