Another short little thing this week … It may not be what you expected, or what I expected, but it is where the muses led me … I might have something more expected for you next week … but … we shall see …
She sits on the cliffs overlooking the Lake of Fire. Watching the waves roll in from far away, breaking upon the sandy beaches where the Succubi and Incubi play as they do. She smiles, she always smiles, when she sees a pair—or three, or more—go off and be together to share the coming moment among themselves or, perhaps, to explore an aspect of their lives and loves before returning to the whole to watch what is to come. She sits there, her knees drawn to her chest, her chin resting upon them as she watches the scene below, content in the knowledge that she had made the right choice so long ago, knowing that her choice had made the lives of many what they were at that moment.
Every so often, a citizen of the Realm passes by, traveling the well-known path that leads to the beach, asking her if everything is alright. She, of course, replies that she is fine, and that they should be hurrying along to join with the others.
But the thing is, she makes no move of her own to leave her place there, on the cliffs, and simply watches the sun drift lower towards the horizon. After a time, the sun seems to touch its form to the waters. There is a moment when the light touches the deep darkness of the Lake and for an instant it appears that the sun has entwined itself with the water. That is the moment she waits for: to see, if only for a split second, the colours, the fires, the richness of the moment that appears to her senses; to have that experience; to see what she had been told of so long ago.
When that moment happens for her, it has not quite happened to those on the beach below. But they sense, as the shadows change colour, as the light changes colour, as the world seems to become sharper in texture to them, that the moment is coming soon.
But still she waits there, upon the cliffs, not moving, still waiting. She thinks about the day that has passed, the future that is to be. She thinks about her family, every single one of them, and wishes they were there to share the moment to be. As the light dims around her, the shadows lengthen and there is a melancholy in the air that touches her skin. It comes with a little voice in her mind that she hears from time to time, the voice that reminds her of all of the things she didn’t do that day. It reminds her of those she has disappointed, or whom she believes she has. It tells her that another sunset has come and with it she has lost something precious she will never have again. Time.
A sigh escapes her—just a small one. She is so very hard on herself and is so every moment of her existence. As the sun drops further now, almost halfway vanished into the Lake, there is a moment when rays of light streak into the sky and arch over her. The melancholy is pushed away, replaced by the reminder of what she had accomplished that day. She remembers the moments, the smiles, the happiness. She recalls the sharing of a cookie, a giggle, a feeling. She takes a breath and blows it out past her lips, taking that last bit of melancholy out of her chest and sending it into the shadows. She smiles, finally … just a little bit.
The moment is soon to arrive for all of the Realm, but not there yet; they are still waiting. Once, she wondered if there would be someone for her to share there moments with, if she would be alone for always.
The truth is one that makes her smile a little larger.
There is the sound of footsteps behind her and she is not afraid. She stands, brushes the sand from herself and then simply offers her hand to the one who joins her. She feels a hand take her own, but she does not look at her companion nor speak. She simply squeezes her hand, slightly, and leads them both down the path to where the others have started the bonfires and are laughing and being together.
The sun is now immersed into the Lake as darkness falls around them all, but they are not afraid. They have seen the darkness and the light and know them both for what they are. She leads the way to one of the fires, where a place is set for her. She releases the hand and sits there beside the fire, snuggling up against its owner. To those around her, the truth of this moment is clear. There are in the light of the fire: not one, not two, but many souls there with her—the ones she has touched, the ones that have touched her; her family; the ones that she thinks about every moment of her life. They all sit by the fire with her, some physically—all her daughters and sons—and some in spirit, there around those of the Realm.
She is not alone, not ever so. They are quiet in anticipation for the moment that comes when she closes her eyes, sinks deeper into her snuggle with her Eternal, smiles a subtle, coy smile, and says …
… “Let me tell you a story …”
And Tera does.