The Vampire's Edenian Inamorata

The Surrogate Orb

**WARNING: There are depictions of rape and painful birth. Please read with caution.**

Ÿ wërr vâ cázęîs wæzÿn ëútø nœ drįnn pêtøx x ÿ nåzîús... bù vîcęngt x kømqërr târ sövølž`

(The world she carries within ought not bring peril to the masses… but strength to conquer their demons.)

The moon above the threshold of Lebab gloomed behind passing clouds. The stars were dim, fading into the dismal blackness of their home.

Ascending from the cavern, Sövœk glanced at the surrounding pandemonious terrain. He sighed and hurled himself into the atmosphere, sparks of light and stardust trailing behind.

The constellations, wary of his presence, flickered. Passing clay and silicate rocks heeded the stars’ warnings and wandered toward the realms of Yore and Fate.

Not far was Jäcûlę, her belly abundantly rotund and glowing. She wept in the blanketed nebulas. Crystals formed from her tears, jetting this way and that.

Sövœk climbed the steps of dust leading to her hourglass chamber. A wall of transparent ice separated the spacious abode from the silent void. Pricklyburrs bordered the walls, their intense luminescence heightened by Jäcûlę’s cool glimmer.

Centuries, he thought to himself as he watched her descend from an attic hatch tucked away in the corner of her chamber.

“It has been much longer,” she spoke, having heard his thought. Her dejected smile, one he had not witnessed before, tugged at his chest. “What they say is true,” she continued. “But fear not, Sövœk. I intend to destroy it.”

“No,” Sövœk scoffed. “The Sisters have predicted a war. And so, it will come to pass. As I have, still, you will bear your just retribution.”

“What quarrels you have with me, fused with the Realm of Yore,” Jäcûlę hissed, clenching her stomach. “You will not fair here for long. You must return to Terra.”

“Why?” he questioned.

“You—”

His stern facial expression gave way to something that lurked in the back of his mind. The fading of ruby and gold in his pooling irises bore trickles of salt and blood.

She sauntered toward a massive looking-glass. The cylinder was lined with amethyst crystals and silver plating, like that of Tôpęshnå’s brilliant orbs. Glancing over her shoulder, Jäcûlę noticed Sövœk admiring the contraption.

“Come here,” she commanded him.

And he did, cautiously approaching her.

“The maiden who strung your heart was a mistake.”

“There are no maidens who set fires nor tether strings to my placid vessel, Jäcûlę.” He c****d his head to the side, studying her jaded eyes. “I am no man—or god—like Him.”

“Far from it,” she retorted. “It is refreshing, truly.”

“How so?”

“I harbor regrets. Perhaps I may share a burden with you.”

Gesturing for Jäcûlę to start, Sövœk leaned against the spyglass, cupping the object's lip with one hand and nestling the other under his chin.

“Many suns ago, Ęrêmø summoned me from slumber, eyes bold and full of light.” Jäcûlę conjured a silver crescent throne and sat. The points at the ends curled toward her mane of now violet curls. Her eyes drooped as she rubbed her belly.

“At that time,” she continued, “we had lost many mortals to your fledglings. He was desperate, you see, and I could not refuse Him.

“When my orb was at its highest point, Ęrêmø raised His sun behind me. A ring of fire haloed the moon, ushering a thin veil between the light and void. It was there, we merged as one.

“We were not woman, but that of an ordinary man. Ęrêmø’s features dominated our meshed form, with golden curls and cyan eyes. Though we were naked, He fashioned us a robe made from the silks of orb weavers.

“To seal our bond, we entered the river of Aüstøsæ. This ensured our unison until His sun and my moon parted in the atmosphere.” Jäcûlę paused, adjusting herself on her icy seat.

Unimpressed, Sövœk yawned and took to the floor, lying on his back as he stared at the endless cluster of stars and nebulas. “Your yarns… why tell me this?”

With a snap of her fingers, Sövœk began writhing and groaning. His limbs twisted and snapped, contorting this way and that. In those moments, his glaring red eyes met her cool orbs, etching in his mind ritualistic curses and hymns of his peoples. His grunts and twitching reduced, satisfying Jäcûlę’s subtle rage.

“Understand that the strings of Yore have come to fruition. Fate cuts those ties as they see fit. Yours has not come to pass. Now…” Jäcûlę flicked her wrist, releasing Sövœk from his suffering.

“Ęrêmø sought a blossomed maiden not much older than the celibate I speak of. We stumbled across a sleeping maid under the peach groves in the Forest of Älk. Her cherry-tinted cheeks and luscious rose lips enraptured Him. He, too, thought it wise for us to not disturb her slumber. However, His twinging member had a mind of its own.

“And so we laid atop her soft, bare flesh, admiring her for what she was: our new Węlnœ. I mourn her tears every sun. The cries she mustered as our member penetrated her carnal cave. Our coupling was nearly complete until I realized Ęrêmø’s rather egregious intentions…”

“What could you have accomplished?” Sövœk queried, his brows piqued and eyes wide. “You took the innocence of a mortal woman. And mortals, as she, bare naught of the creatures in their likeness when impregnated by a god.”

“I was not finished, Spirit of the Void.”

He pursed his lips, bidding her to continue.

“It is true that our magicks and spells course out of us when we consummate with others, especially those many mortals. It is, like all things, what creates immortals or god-like beings.” Jäcûlę dashed from her seat and floated toward the ceiling. Her fingertips dragged across the glass, staring back at her reflection. “It was why I bonded our abilities within a single seed. It took much of my strength, but I fused his traits inside a crystalized sphere. A temporary hold for the little mortal goddess. But you… You awakened those abilities.”

Scoffing, Sövœk rolled onto his belly and erected from the floor. “How is it that you place your faults in me when the both of you committed carnal atrocities against the flesh of humans?”

She pursed her lips, holding back her rolling tongue. Specs of glistening droplets trickled down her cheeks. “Dare not twist my words,” she choked. “What happened that dawn remains seared in my thoughts and suckled to my dreams.”

Spinning around, Jäcûlę’s face warped into that of marble stone. Black veins stretched across her forehead and cheeks, and her eyes shifted into pools of gold. “Leave me. It is unwise for foolish gods and spirits to stay within my realm of solitude.”

“You are never alone,” Sövœk noted. “You think so little of all things. Of me. Even so… yourself. May the Seven Sisters forsake your sins and lift your burdens from the surrogate oath you, indeed, kept within your sacred orb.” He bowed and receded to the shadows of her glass prison, rocketing toward Terra with flames and stardust behind him.

As Jäcûlę observed this, she collapsed to her knees and wailed. Her back arched, and her chest aimed toward the ceiling. Amniotic fluid unleashed from her vaginal folds, with stick-like appendages protruding through the opening. They clicked and thrashed, and her screams multiplied.

Stars traveled from afar to witness the birth of this mysterious creature. Many starlings, the clumps of dust that trailed behind these gaseous little lights, vanished as quickly as they appeared. Fearful of the monster escaping her.