She sat in her splendor. The gold trim of her extravagant palace only paled in comparison. She was goddess, she was eternal. Her palace resides in the heavens, the rays of sun reflected in her golden palace if only to illuminate it. She rises. Full sunrise is only seen by mortal when her eyes open and a smile flatters her placid face. She threw off the covers of Egyptian cotton and slid of the bed of red silk. The earth is warmed. Her pitch black hair fell from her head to her knees, the red satin gown in which she slept trailed behind her as she walked the halls of her abode. The halls' glittering candles ignited as she stepped in front of them, her hazel eyes emit her true spirit when illuminated by them. The spirit trapped within her. A fire goddess by nature, a phoenix.


She walked to her bathroom where her servants take care of her every whim until she is clean and her demands are met. She emerged from it fully clothed in silk white robes, bejeweled in gold and diamonds, doe eyed beauty she returns. Her days she spent like this, on a swing accurately placed on a veranda in her home. The veranda overlooks the mortal realm and is positioned in such a way that she can pull her fireball of a sun across the sky and the stars and moon to brighten the black night skies. A room so named, the sun room. The swing is gloriously decorated with an array of flora. Roses, violets and vines blanket it. She sits upon the floral utopia solemnly.


She rocked back and forth stroking the gentle blossoms, watching in awe as the flames consumed the flowers, deeply lost in her thoughts. Incapable of human contact, her touch ending the lives of the ones she held dear. She retracted her hands from the new bud and rested them in her lap, reflecting on the lives that her curse had taken. Trying to see the bright side, she resides in the fact that what she did was for the best of that person. She killed yes, but they live better because of it. Their souls find peace as her own struggles though an eternal life of guilt plaguing her.


A servant enters," my goddess of fire."


She looks at the loving servant, her depression indenting itself upon herself on her face. She tried to hide it with a smile but the effort was futile, the servant continues.


"The gods have arrived."


"Why?"


Panic and stress found their way from her gut to her eyes as she speaks for the first time that day.


"To enquire on your well being."


"Have I not said a million times before I'm fine?"


Her anger grows as a red glow infests her brown complexion.


"They insist,” The servant replies.


Her red glow fades back into normalcy. She sits back on her swing and finally surrenders.


"Bring them in."


The servant backs away summoning the unwanted guests to the sun room. They walk into the room as the day enters high noon. Two gods enter and are blinded by the brilliance of her sun.


"High noon has come," one speaks.


God of time, his brown hair wavy and flowing behind him, the wind of the room brushing over his soft and normally saddened facial features, he walks in with robes of black and a gold medallion of time like a garland around his neck.


"Why do you bother me, Charles?"


She recoils on her swing like a cobra entranced to strike.


"Dim has encompasses the gods as well as the mortals these last few days. We've come to see your state."


"We?"


She looked up as she extinguished the initial flame from a new rose bud leaving the black tips of the red rose to bloom. A face came from the new shadows in her seemingly lightened house. The shadows came together to form a person. Black hair over a pale face dug in features and blue green eyes capable of seeing all. He walked forward and bowed his head at her respectful pace in the pantheon. So enters the god of life and death. She resumes her act of grooming the rose with flames as the gods take a seat on either side of her swing. She brushes the petals of the flowers back from its center using flames, engulfing the fatal blossom on its soon ending quest for more.


"How have you weathered Fiona?"


The god of life and death tries to pierce her thoughts with his eyes but ends up at a blockade. Fiona's delicate fingers press into a new flower and like a match it ignites. Her eyes fill from loss and she replies.


"I have weathered. Life on earth has sustained. Is that not enough?"


Arrogance in her voice arose, anger was evident. Yet her glow was yet to be seen, she had yet to be provoked.


"Fiona, you’re hurt. Share your pain. Let us in."


"Into what Charles? My Thoughts, my mind? Charles, my sorrow comes from not one but many things. My sadness is a longing."


"Longing for what?"


The god of life and death interjects himself.


"Paul," She sighs. "A longing for freedom."


Her rocking slows and her hands rest on her sides, her legs dangling from the swing.


"You have nights to do with as you please servants to tend to your every command in the day, and even days when Reina (the goddess of the Rain) takes your place. What more freedom do you require, Fiona?"


"Charles, Paul,'' She began.


She moves from her swing to the ledge of the sun room, where every mortal could be seen and continued.


"The mortals rely on us for everything, yet upon whom do we rely? Loneliness has just taken me I suppose."


She walks with a young child's defeated steps.


"I'll do my job alone."


She sits on her swing and her sun weakens to evening set.


"Will you stay for dinner? I'm sure a feast is being prepared as we speak."


"You deviate from the subject," Paul speaks.


"Companionship keeps you from your job? Keeps the moon dim and the stars invisible? Mortals are beginning to think you have deserted them. Has your sadness overshadowed your precious humans?"


He sees no point in the creation of mortals; they were a waste of time and space for him.


“I care for my mortals. I care for all the life whether it is on earth or here, I do still care."


“Then why treat them the way you have? Why torture them? "


“Mortals have other mortals to fill their voids. They make friends and marry. Do we? There was never a god wedding preformed in history."


Charles sat quietly observing the conversation that was slowly rising in volume and angst.


"Do you want a mortal? Some inferior being to argue with and tease?"


Her red glow became prominent as she gripped and slowly burned though the ropes of her swing.


"You know what I want? I want a person, god or mortal, with whom to spend my days."


Paul could now see though her. He saw her soul pierced and distraught, similar to his own. But he would never willingly admit that. She regained her composure, her glow slowly leaving her body and her shaking grip jolting away from the half eaten vine that was the rope of her swing. Fiona's eyes glanced from side to side at the two and rose.


"Dinner is prepared," she again spoke and walked away.


"What have you seen," Charles addressed Paul.


"She has realized her missing piece she longs for another."


Paul rose and prepared himself to follow in her footsteps.


"What are we to do?" Charles inquired.


"I'll return," he proclaimed. "I'll fix it and help her."


Realizing that Paul had already come up with a plan to rehabilitate Fiona and he ushered him inside. The two gods entered the dining hall to find a feast spread over the table. Candles were lit all around to room and a dim light resided over the food as well as the ones who were about to partake. The three ate in silence. The spread was bountiful, mutton; fruit, vegetables, and drink were given in plentiful amounts.


"Entertainment?" Fiona spoke.


The two looked up dumbfounded by her question. She got up and signaled toward the door and a set of beautiful women similar to herself, brown in complexion with their hair tied in pony tails, danced into the room. Their outfits were small, halter tops holding up large breasts and slits cut at a slant and hemmed with bells. Their every gyration sent jingling jovial sounds into the silent air that was once suffocating the three. They danced and twirled around the men. The god of time accepted this gesture with great pleasure as Fiona watched Charles dance and enjoy himself. Her getting lost in his joy. Paul graciously denied, taking this opportunity to further assess her problems. The scene stayed this way for the night.


"May I offer you a place to stay tonight? Lodging until morning?"


"Fiona, your graciousness exceeds any person, god or otherwise, but I must decline. Time must go on and I must watch over the humans. Their stupidity is beyond me. They need to see that nothing happens before I have predestined."


Charles smiled as Fiona replied.


"And you Paul? Will you not grace me with your presence in my home, at least for tonight?"


Her eyes looked as if she were pleading for company. Paul looked up from his thoughts.


"Fiona I will accept your offer."


Her eyes began to profusely beam with as he continued.


"We have yet to get properly acquainted. Let us use this time for that purpose."


She glowed red, not of anger but of joy. A temporary person had come to distract her, at least for the night. The two bid Charles a solemn farewell and were then left alone inside her grand palace. She had no idea what to do next. No one had ever accepted her invitation before.


"Let me show you to your quarters for the night."


He nodded as she began to walk.


"You have a beautiful home," Paul remarked.


"Empty but beautiful," Fiona replied


"Do you lament in your loneliness?"


"I have coped. The flames of the candles and the voices of the servants soothe that lament. I live."


She confronted a large set of doors and spun around to face him.


"You'll stay here, freshen up and you can join me in the sun room for a while until the mortals rest. Then we can."


"Surely I'll join you."


He opened the door then hesitated before leaving. Fiona had already begun to walk away when he stopped her.


"Fiona," he called, she stopped in her steps and turned her face so he could only see half of it.


"Yes, she answered.


"You seem happy to have me for the night. Are you genuinely surprised that I accepted?"


She laughed a bit before replying, "I was."


She then presumed to turn her face and walk away. He laughed and entered the room encompassed in emerald green, a canopied master bed made of the same cotton and silk as her own. He had his own servants in the room who; tended to him as he bathed, with the sole purpose of ensuring he was comfortable. He emerged from the room refreshed and wrapped in the green robes that were almost lovingly laid out on his bed. Paul walked the house and stood at the entrance of the sun room which was now pitch black, candles were lit and bright stars dotted the skies. Then she turned. The full moon became her aura and her smile only strengthening the stars' radiance.


"I had no idea you would stay," she spoke.


She was prepared to walk toward him but he was already next to her as she leaned over the ledge, her red satin sleeping dress was draped over her slim frame, her jewels removed and her hair loosened to its full extent. Her brilliance was definitely not lost on him for he used every moment with her to inhale it.


"It's a beautiful night," her words shook him out of his daze.


He refocused his attention on the night sky.


"Most enchanting," he replied.


She looked down and scoffed, "no one has accepted my invitation to stay. They were afraid I suppose."


"Afraid of what?"


"My temper and anger. In fear of not upsetting me, they left me."


Her sadness made the stars flicker.


"Don't say that."


Paul saw not just the stars but her eyes flicker out tears. Her took his hand and lifted her hanging head, wiping her tears with the sleeves of his robes. The heat from her skin eating bits away from the fabric as well as his skin.


"I am here."


She smiled and now turned her entire body to face him, her arm still resting on the ledge.


"So," Fiona spoke to him as if to make a comical skit of their entire evening.


"How come you are hiding the fact that you are just as distraught as everyone else?"


Paul's head popped away from the illuminated sky and faced her in a quiet manner.


"What?"


"You heard me," she began to inch away, only making it a small distance from where she began, if only to turn back.


"You are not the only one with all seeing eyes."


"I happen to know for a fact that I am," Paul snapped back at her.


"I don't need that power for my eyes to be all seeing."


"How do you know all this? How have you come to this?"


He walked a step ahead of her then turned back. Fiona responded by prancing back to her swing and swinging back as she sat like a small child with a secret anxious to spill.


"Misery knows its company."


She locked eyes with him as he slowly sat in the chair next to her swing.


"What hurt your soul?"


Paul fell silent.


"Paul, what caused you to lose this piece that I can tell was once there. You weren't always sad."


He looked at her questioningly, wondering how she could come to know so much about him in so little a time span. In an effort to find her problem and take attention away from his own, he answered.


"And you? Weren't you happy as well? I remember one night skies being this bright, before tonight and days. Like a shining utopia for mortals. When did it change?"


She bashfully smiled and started after him.
"I was happy once. Everything was my way, but it crashed." She grew silent after that.


"Crashed how?" Paul persisted.


"Once I had a lover. But he is no more."


"Is he dead?"


"Far from it, he lives with others." She moved from the swing to the balcony again. "He lives among the mortals. Charming their women as he charmed me."


She stared out into the sky and then down at the mortals with a regurgitated sadness in her. He rose from his chair as well to comfort her.


"A goddess left for mortals," He remarked."Such a fool." She smiled at him and saw that their time had expired.

"The mortals have begun to sleep, we should retire as well." He moved his hand from her face and they both smiled of embarrassment. Paul walked with Fiona to her room as a courtesy, but the two were silent the entire duration. When they reached her room, she finally looked up at him. "I must go."

He nodded, "Before you rest, let me give you a thought on which to ponder: Friends are here...we are here."

She smiled shyly before disappearing behind the large doors. Paul took a moment and let his gaze linger on the barrier, trying to keep the magic of her presence before shaking his head and walking away smiling. That night, neither goddess nor god slept. They both replayed the feelings of the day, thinking of the ulterior motive behind the other's actions.

Fiona's restlessness wouldn't even let her lay in bed; she took herself from the comforts of her bed to the big fluffy chair in the corner of the room and lit a fire in the fireplace for something to keep her powers occupied.

What's happening to me? What do I do?

Her confusion was no different from Paul's in the adjacent room. Sitting at the edge of his bed, his head was practically spinning.

How does she read me? How does she know so much about me? How have we become so alike, yet never met?

Thoughts racing, Paul fell back into his pillows and forcibly put himself to bed, eventually achieving it. Fiona fire burnt out at the same time, her head falling into her shoulder and her eyelids shutting her down.

-----------------------------------------------

The next morning, Paul bathed himself and dressed in anticipation to continue his conversation with Fiona, this time prepared with answers to her forthcoming questions. He rushed to her room before sunrise, hoping to catch her before she was to go and do her job.

He stared up at the doors to her room, asking himself whether he should burst through them or knock. Taking the safer route, he furiously knocked the door. He waited a moment and one of her female servants answered.

"Where's Fiona?" he spoke to her in an accusatory manner as if to accuse her of kidnapping Fiona.

"On this morning, The Madam chose to take a swim. Shall I lead you to her?" The servant quivered in Paul's shadow.

"Will you, please?"he began to soften himself to appeal to her.

"Yes, my lord. But...." She hid behind the door a little while she spoke. "The Madam knew you would come and she asked me to tell you to swim with her. she asked me to give you this and take you to her." She outstretched her hand and in it were robes in which to bathe. He took the gift from the servants' hand and went back to his room to change. he promptly returned and the servant had him follow her to a room past the dining and sun rooms. The servant stopped and opened a door.

"Madam is here." The room was glowing blue. Water stretched as far as the eye can see and sunrise was slowly beginning to kiss the grey morning. Paul scoured the room and spotted her far away from the shore he stood on.

"Hey," Paul called into the lightening blue abyss. Her head swung around to shore and her dazzling white smile appeared. She quickly swam to where he was standing and like cleaned diamond she emerged from the water. Her body glistened in the sun that rose more and more as she left the cool smooth waters. Fiona came face to face with Paul and the beads of water came off her lashes as she gazed at his smiling face.

"How'd you know I'd come searching for you this morning?" he inquired as he basked in the innate feeling of lust he had for her. She turned away, quickly splashing him with water from her hair.

"AS difficult and as odd as you are to me, a guest always goes in search of their hostess." She took the towel she set down on the sand and began to dry her skin as she spoke.

"That, and after the conversation last night, you, like myself, would've only become more inquisitive on the subject. Am I right?" She glanced over her shoulder for a reply on his face. It was there, a bright smile and downcast eyes as if to imply that his motive was found out. He sat on the dirt surface and presumed to speak.

"You haven't fallen for anyone after him?" Paul looked up as Fiona took a seat next to him, staring off into her sunrise.

"Not another before and, as I decree, not another after." He looked up at her face, as serious as he'd ever seen her. "And you?" She spoke. "The numerous heartbreaks press your face." She smirked at him.

"Numerous...hardly. A few unresolved issues that led to my heartbreak alone. She could forever move on." He looked down as if he were ashamed of his past. "I wasn't approved of for many a girl mortal or goddess. Either I wasn't good enough or she hated me." He looked up to the sky. "No, not she. Fate. Fate hates me," he laughed. Fiona observed him, wallowing in self pity and the sadness he exuded slowly began to rub off on her, making her smile fade. She refused to subject herself to his depression and she quickly got up from the beach.

"My job awaits," and she left the room, leaving him alone. He got up from the beach and started to pace, wondering what he had done to make her run the way she did. He replayed the conversation and noted all the things that could've gone wrong and stopped in one place, allowing his head to hang. He drove her away with his sadness. Fate had once again reared its hatred for him. He solemnly walked to the door of the room, turning back to stare at its calm waters. Then he left the room, going to his own. He changed his clothes, if only because they hadn't gotten wet while Fiona bathed and resided into he Sun Room, waiting for either Paul to trod behind her or the servant to bring her a meal for breakfast. She sat upon her swing and let her sun come to its full glory. She fiddled with the petals of the flowers that surrounded her swing wishing that Paul would just drop the subject of her past love. Fiona was scarred; she was well aware of her predicament. But she refused to do anything about it because she was utterly ashamed of it.

This was the first time she had spoken about it since it initially happened thousands of years ago. She already spent her sleepless nights on it, even her days, as it drew away from her responisbilities as a goddess to the mortals. She had assumed it to be over when she finally slept peacefully again, unknown to her the reason why. Fiona spent years in anger and sadness, even remorse. Now, she just wanted to forget. She resolved herself that in some way, she would deflect him any way she could. She got up from her swing and rested herself on the banister that saved her from a drop into the other realm. She looked down and closed her eyes to hear a sound more familiar than her own breath, the prayers to her. She knew every voice, every chant, every plea. and she knew what time to expect each one. She looed into her early morning sun and closed her eyes, searhing for the one that was continuous.

"YOu are my only friend," she heard and a small smile sp[read across her face. "I know you are always here because I can always see you here, in theese embers I work with. You are always by my side. You spark my inspiration, and you have made my business successful. I know you are always with me becuase you always show you're pressence in the weirdest ways. I don't know why some people don't understand you like I do. I get how complex you are, how estranged you've become, dispite the reasoning. I get it. Even a goddess as brilliant as yourself needs a break." He went on like this all day everyday. Fiona knew that many of the villagers that knew him, although they admred him for his work, thought he was crazy for speaking to her as he had since his father taught him to prey. She smied as she opened her eyes to the glowing sky she graced. "He understands," Fiona whispered to herself. "He gets what I am feeling. Maybe he should be here...." Her eyes lit up at the idea and she straightened her back. "That's it! A mortal! A pet to take my mind off it all." She turned around in excitment as Paul came in along with the maiden serving them breakfast. Paul took a seat in the same armchair he had the night before nd the maiden unveiled a feast of food for the two on the table in the middle of their space.

Fiona ate eggs and strawberries, reaching for small bites periodically while Paul ate more. Feeling famished from the morning's events, all he wanted to do was engorge himself in food.

"Paul," She spoke to him. Paul raised his head and bacon spilled out from his mouth as his eyes widened like a scared deer. "I feel like I want a pet."Paul swallowed the morsels of food he shoved into his mouth.

"A pet like what?"

"A mortal,"She replied with the idea of something glimmering in her eyes. Paul choked a bit on the sausage he was devouring as she spoke, finished it and then began to argue.

"We didn't have them created so that you could domesticate them! They are free life forms." He stared at her, waiting for an answer in which he could find a flaw.

"Every other god lives among the mortals and trains them. What would be so different about bringing them here?"

"You would be tainting everything god like," he rebuddled. "Mortals have their world, Gods have theirs. Bringing one here would expose it and make it accostomed to a god's world. Probably even make it believe it's a god. Do you have any idea how ba dthings could get by this one move? WE go to the human world; they don't come here."


His argument was a lost cause on her. "Think about it," she leaned forward in her swing as if trying to explain to a stubborn child. "SOmeone to talk to, to play with, I'd never be alone, my job would get done and everyone would be okay."

"But how will you get it, Fiona? Are you just going to abduct one out of the blue?""

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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 23.04.2010

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