The Vampire's Edenian Inamorata

Terra Refined

Ę twå nëútø etq lę x ívæ į påcæü. Bù etęquåsï vår` bënåwę lę cê,tø ę.

(It was naught for you to live in peace. But everything more, because you craved it. )

He had no mother nor father to recompense. No consort or confidant to beguile his qualms. But chaos breached his door of stardust and brilliant nebulas. It was before honest names and meanings came into existence. When silence screamed profusely for others, none of the stars could hear it.

But on the millionth day of the billionth year, Jealously—a fourth of seven from the neighboring star clusters of the Pleiades—accompanied by the first, Deception, joyfully spun yarns of the Silver River. The mortals who roamed a paradiacal sphere piqued Sövœk’s interest. He wanted more and more, thus traveling millions of stars from his comforting home to the planet Terra using the Ethereal Flame.

When he entered the mass, it was not as claimed. No life. No air. Nothing but gaseous magma and boiling saltwater consumed the pitiful massive ball. Before he left, however, a blinding light sped forth and cast down golden bolts that rooted into the lava, cooling it. From there, green blades sprouted, with colorful petals permeating strange fragrances. Then trunks burst from below, flourishing with foliage in shades of ruby, gold, emerald, and ember. Some were ordained with flowers like those beneath, but others were gifted with peculiar ornaments in different shapes and scents. Wriggling critters escaped from the hearth, the flames below consumed by pools of fresh water and aquatic anomalies. Mammals with four protruding limbs scattered from a cave—some with branches and twigs for crowns, others with pinnae that moved independently. Satisfied, the orb of light left.

Sövœk stood in the shadows, observing the creatures. Amazed by this, he spooled thread from silkworms, weaved together a cloth-like pouch, and collected dirt and clay. Then another light appeared, dull and calm. But this had a figure, beautiful and refined, and she placed all the beasts under a dizzy spell, succumbing them to the pleasures of slumber. And Sövœk, too, found himself lulling into crystallized dreams, honing an idea for the mysterious force that would likely return the following day.

Soon, he jolted awake, refreshed. He ventured to the lake and cleansed himself, spotting curious eyes from the surrounding rippling rings. Smiling at these rare feats, Sövœk collected a hollowed conch and filled it to the brim with water.

Exiting the lake, he retrieved his pouch and poured the liquid into it. Then, he worked the clay and dirt until he could pound it into a ball. He molded brow bones and a nose resembling his, then added clay to shape lips, eyes, and ears. Content with this, he crafted the neck and torso and saw it was good. After that, he added arms, legs, and limbs. Satisfied, Sövœk rested.

During this time, the ethereal light found the clay figure. Curious, it blew on the clay. Flesh replaced the hard cast, and the figure began breathing. Hair coiled from its scalp, and a phallus sprouted from a jungle of pubescent hair. The light named the creature Man and tasked him to gather all the dwelling beasts for the Seven Sisters’ arrival.

Sövœk woke after his short sleep and realized his figure had gone. Disheartened, he thought of giving up. However, he wanted to impress this unknown being. So, he reconstructed a similar figure that boasted feminine features. Pleased, he rested inside the crook of a tree beside his creation.

The light, once again, returned. As it did with Man, it blew onto the clay, which animated itself. Complacent, the light named this creature Woman and commanded her to anoint herself in eucalyptus and dawn her hair in rose petals, for she would be Man’s offering.

Again, Sövœk awoke and found that his second figure had gone in a similar fashion. Only this time, he faced the glowing orb whose rays glimmered, perhaps, too jovial for the occasion. Sövœk climbed down the tree and bowed, then tripped over himself as a masculine figure approached him from the light.

This god had a flowing mane of gold and snow and fierce amber eyes, with skin the color of sandalwood. He towered over Sövœk, softening his gaze. “Rise,” he boomed.

But Sövœk could not. He trembled and arched further toward the dirt, clenching his jaw from the raw power radiating from this being before him.

“It is not wise for you to ignore me,” the god injected, venom in his voice, “Sövœk, Spirit of the Void.”

Gulping, Sövœk staggered from his position, staring into the light’s eyes. Like a trance, he felt compelled to slip secrets and pour confessions no other being would care to know. However, Sövœk did not know this god standing in front of him. “I, of little in the vast oceans of stardust, know not what they call you,” he stammered.

“I am called many, but the Seven Sisters know me as Ęrêmø, Creator of Worlds and God of Morning Sun—just as you will know me.” He chuckled and patted Sövœk’s shoulder, gleaming at their surroundings. “What is it that you desire?”

“I…” Sövœk knew naught of what he so coveted.

But his dreams surfaced, some preconceived notions of what Jealousy and Deception planted within him. He craved one thing but only felt it through sleep. Terra was quiet then. As were the creatures Ęrêmø designed.

Puffing his chest, Sövœk strode away from Ęrêmø, breaching the trunk of the tree he had climbed down from earlier. “Peace,” he murmured. “They told me about it once, the sisters.” Smirking, Sövœk glanced over his shoulder, arching his brow at the rather euphoric sun god. “My convictions to what I seek are not what you can give. I’ve realized that.”

“Your heart and abilities may bring about what you crave,” Ęrêmø coyly replied. “Your figures—I’ve named them. I beseech you, multiply them. Share with me your secrets, and I will bless them. And they will worship you like the beasts who worship me.”

Pondering this, Sövœk sighed, relieved that Ęrêmø’s gifts were found. He faced Ęrêmø and proclaimed, “I will share with you my craft so that we may cultivate your world and bring forth everlasting peace.”

They sealed their promise with a kiss and were elated with their newfound dream of endless tomorrows. They tilled the earth, scouring for lumps of clay and fresh dirt. Using the oxen, asses, and mules, Sövœk siphoned water from the lake into deer hides; while Ęrêmø piled clay onto a stone slab, prepping it for molding.

After the seventh day, both created a tribe of men and women—one assigned Álmü, or chieftain, and his counterpart, Węlnœ, or mother. Some of the women in this tribe had swollen bellies filled with pubescent homunculi, short of stature, who bore the silk faces of their elders. And the tribe called themselves Eden, Light’s Paradise.

And though Ęrêmø prided himself on their creations, Sövœk grew discontent; for they did not recognize him as their god as Ęrêmø had promised.

Twilight came, so Ęrêmø left, resting above the rolling cotton that radiated soft pinks, ruby, and amber. The other orb gracefully descended on the land, and she—wary of the Edenian tribe—stalked the shadows, observing the two-legged creatures.

Pitying the goddess, Sövœk cautiously approached her, tearing out milk-white flowers to gift her. Her ears perked up, and she spun around, facing Sövœk.

Unlike Ęrêmø’s masculine features, hers were smooth and delicate. Icy grey eyes bore into his, filled with benevolence and wonder. They slowly pearled and glistened, and her pupils darkened like the midnight sky. Suddenly, the tribe fell silent, and their eyes dimmed. Their bodies slumped, and all was peaceful.

“Walk with me, Sövœk,” she commanded.

Following her lead, Sövœk trekked to a winding river that trickled from the lake and stood in awe of the goddess’ reflection. Her violet curls stretched toward the heavens and curved toward the earth, with a crescent of silver looming above her silhouette. Her pale skin reflected off the twinkling stars, and a soft glow surrounded her.

“They call me Jäcûlę,” she said. “For I am the Mother of Darkness and Goddess of Dreams.” She stepped into the river, cupping her hands and sinking them under. The crystal-clear water shimmered under her light and turned to liquid gold. “This river shall be blessed and only drunk by the gods who enter Terra.” She turned to Sövœk, sipping from the pooled water in her hands. “Drink from me and endure the inclinations I bring to this river.”

He sauntered toward the river but was hesitant to drink from her. “What intentions lie before me should I compel myself to drink from you?” he asked.

She smiled and shook her head. “No tricks. No follies. I wish to bestow a gift you may claim and cherish over time. I have seen your dreams, and they are pure. Please, I implore you. Drink.”

Heeding her proclamation, Sövœk did as she bid and drank from her hands. Tingling sensations crawled under his skin, and soon everything before him went black. Dots swirled around him with haunting visions of bodies skewed about the lake, overturned and bloodied. Then, another vision came to him. It was one of a woman who smiled at him, whose violet eyes gleamed with joy but hid animosity within the specks of silver.

In a blink of an eye, he shot up from the ground. It was day now, and Jäcûlę faded into the morning mists. His fists clenched, holding in queries for when she returned.

Ęrêmø descended from a branch, then studied Sövœk, glued to his doe-like expression. He chuckled and patted Sövœk’s shoulder. “Come,” he said. “The Edenians await us and the Seven Sisters.”

Sövœk’s chest tightened, and he felt a shift in the wind. The Pleiades were combative in nature, aside from his encounters with Jealousy and Deception. All seven, however, could wrought destruction and misfortune in any world they entered.

No matter, he followed Ęrêmø toward an erected wall. It was new as there were none the previous day, but he believed it was Ęrêmø’s doing. They were wooden spikes so sharp they could puncture flesh. While pondering over their wall, Jealousy approached him with her usual smug smile. Her fingers danced through his wet locks as she laughed. “I see you’ve taken a liking to this world.”

“You and Deception lied to me,” Sövœk hissed.

“Did we, now?” She ceased her teasing and crept around him. “Pity that you did not like this version of paradise… Why, I’d kill for it.” She halted behind him and leaned in, her breath grazing against his nape. “Ęrêmø is a master of his work, after all. Would be a shame if he claimed all works for his own.”

Anger coursed his veins, but his facial features were stoic. His fists clenched, though, and this pleased Jealousy. She blew him a kiss and left as Deception walked to him. She crossed her arms and, like Jealousy, sent him a smug look. “You should know better than to trust my yarns.”

Saying nothing, Sövœk brushed against her and stood beside Ęrêmø. He was not indignant with Jealousy or Deception, but Jealousy’s words struck his heart. He glanced at Ęrêmø, who surrounded himself with the women they created. They gazed upon him in awe. All Sövœk received were weary glances and scowls from the men, as though they feared he would subdue their counterparts like an animalistic savage.

For once, it was not peace Sövœk desired. But something more.

The mortals of Eden.