Whispers of Stone
There was a night we spent alone in which all semblances of humanity and the world escaped us. The walls we touched were made of stone and covered in blood red paintings. The ceiling above us held no shape but that of mother, wrapping her warm arms around us in a grip of longing. We cried out to the moon, but the name we called took no shape. Our lips formed no words but the ones the ancients had called heavenward and painted on the stone around us.
It was then that I first felt the true power of what I had become. The power of the transformation. I saw the golden shapes of the solar system form into toys I could bend and mold at will. There were suddenly magics and gods that answered my call, and when I called for sustenance the earth showed me him. When I called out for life they showed me his arms bared. When I asked the why and the how they pressed my lips to the cold flesh he bore for me alone and bid me drink.
On the morn my eyes recoiled from the moon's brother. I was shoved to the back of the cave and pressed into the soft down of the earth. I called out for mercy but received only heat. When I thought my blood could boil no more I felt the pressure build once again and my closed eyes shown bright with the storms of ages. I tried to call for that which would have been food in another life, but once again found my mouth full of cool flesh the color of purest beach sand. My tongue tingled as the coppery manna rolled over it in waves. My soul ascended to a place just out of reach and I was filled with a force older than souls, older than right and wrong. I no longer had words for these things. I knew only the soft touch of muddy earth beneath me and brother sun licking at the entrance to my shelter. With him I was safe, in the dark, naked and feral and left to our own devices. Outside the cave lay dangers we could find no voice to name or miss.
We stayed in the cave for three days and nights, him feeding the hunger within me and I in return allowed him to take power I had never known I held. I gave him the strength I possessed readily. I turned it over to him even as he rolled me into the earth below. The wind swirled about us raising voices that mumbled secrets known only to us.
In the safety of his grasp he whispered a name that sounded foreign to my ears and yet was mine. I called him only Angel, knowing he was the salvation that would pull me from the cave and let me roam the earth by his side. The blood that flowed so deep between us soon melted away the thick stone walls that had housed me. Soon I no longer feared the light at their apex. I could now pass into the light by hiding in shadow and know that if I sought the darkness it could not burn me.
And seek the darkness I did. At his side for ages, I danced in the moon's rays. I let the ritual of sacrifice define me each night. I painted the walls in bloody motifs and sought refuge in the cave at each change of the season. For decades he joined me in the cavernous darkness and showed me the few rays of light I was ever to see again.
It was a return to the primitive and then it was gone. The chanting outside our shadowed sanctuary grew louder and began to form words that we could no longer deny the meaning of. They lifted the moon's protective veil from our bodies allowing the souls to return and we were left to look on the cave and know the darkness it held. Hand in hand we cried to sister moon and begged her to take us back but she only sighed and whispered to us no more. Together we walked out of the cave and into the light of the sun.
And still we sought the darkness and shunned the light, our souls burning painfully hot within our breasts. We cried each night and exchanged satin and plaster for mud and stone. We still took the power from each other but sought not to hold it, but only to free it from each other. My angel that once saved me and gifted me with strength now cowered into my shoulders and closed his dark eyes to the past.
We looked on the cave one last time and prayed to the sun, and at long last we touched the flames and took the purest of our kind with us. We slipped into a dream and the mumblings and whispers became words and chants, growing louder each day. The moon once more called our names and beckoned us. When we finally woke it was in a room full of light and yet without walls or sky and the only eyes that watched over us now belonged to the wolf, the ram, and the hart.