"Lady Daila~" My voice drags after her like a breeze chasing a storm. She keeps walking as if we aren't moving through the most dangerous realm for beings like me. In a lawless place, all anyone has to do is grab me, and poof, that's it. No more Ohan to clean up after her master. Then again, not having to work tirelessly for an eternity sounds quite nice.
Spending the entire year cleaning up after she meddles in mortal affairs, I am so tired I almost let her go alone. Yet, no one else can mediate if things go awry, so my attendance at the summoning is required. Not that I want to. Soon enough, we are at the gates of Awmyu's Abyssal Palace. Birthplace of some of the strongest villains to ever grace the upper realms... Hoaslien would be included if she were strong, but even with Daila so close, I still shiver to face the Demons and Devils on the other side. And worst of them all, Aspirus, the one who summoned her.
Clutching the sleeve of my sweater, I follow my Lady as she enters. Her silent steps are a mystical contrast to the atmosphere around us, but they feel even more ethereal as the foreboding atmosphere begins to crush any hope I have of making it out alive. I feel safe enough to tread carefully standing so close to my mistress, but even then, if I become a hostage in a discussion with the God of Ambition, it will only make things worse. She couldn't declare war on an entire realm to get me back...could she?
The palace swallows us in the massive doorway, sucking us through the halls and walkways until we reach a grand chamber, the ceiling disappearing into the darkness. I have heard stories from a few other aspects; if you can see the ceiling of a chamber, you are in more danger than not. While it's never explained, I assume it has something to do with Haiyta. After all, a ceiling of darkness means she can influence the room directly. Not that she'd protect me, but still. It's a nice comfort to know if I become a victim, and my lady can't protect me, maybe the god above would move to stop it.
There he is, sitting like a sovereign on the throne of spears and swords. The iconography on his flowing black robe, depicting ritualistic idealizations of weaponry and death, only makes the room colder. Not that his stone gaze is helping ease the tension seizing my body. Daila keeps striding in her stature, her long robe gliding across the ground as she moves with a grace betraying her actual personality.
He raises his chin, eyes brushing over the chamber, and I can't help but avert my gaze. I try to shrink without moving, shuffling after Daila, knowing I am safer, closer to her, even if it means approaching the thing sitting before us. It isn't a being worth referring to by name. How could anything hold a wicked gaze that shrinks even the divinity in my soul?
"Daila..." I want to curse him, to never speak my lady's name from his sickening lips ever again, but as my eyes rise, his track to me with an ophidian gaze. Then, in an instant, a clawed hand shoots from where he sits, and I can't react. A single feeling rampages through my body, a raging bull in a house of glass. I can feel everything in my body threatening to lurch out of my throat onto the ground in front of me. There isn't a word to describe the feeling. Like being submerged in a pool of dark liquid, ripped out just before the point of drowning, and plunged back in. Like hanging from a cliff's edge, nearly slipping, just for someone to pull you up, just enough for you to keep hanging there. Like being suspended in hell.
"Aspirus!" The name resounds through the chamber, and reality returns to me without pause. Everything is coated in stardust, the cosmic universe exploding in every available space. My lady...my master, standing in true form. A being of dark and light, a tapestry of the night sky dotted with sparkling stars. "You called me here to discuss the mortal, correct? Or did you really intend on starting a war you couldn't possibly win?" Even though he had just gotten to me moments ago, she is right. Daila, my la-... her eminence...is well beyond simple divinity. The radiance of her form, the power in her voice, it all measures to heights I've never witnessed.
Even though we stand in the Abyssal Palace and are in the realm of infernals, she doesn't even flinch to consider an act of aggression. To let her true form show before another deity without a second thought-
"Yes, this is about the mortal. However, you should teach your Aspects to avert their gaze...Some of us can feel their desires bleeding through their skin into the air." He feels me wanting to curse him as the thought comes and goes. I try to clear my mind, but it is racing. I can't calm down. It isn't long before I realize I am holding my breath in laps, never fully catching my breath.
Her eminence doesn't lower her form or retract it. She gazes down over Aspirus, a menacing pose in this chamber of darkness. "She's just a child. She is to other Aspects what you are to us. Quick-witted but ignorant." The words don't sting me, but I can see his visage twist even though he lacks any discernible features besides his eyes. "Aspirus..." her voice, which had earned a particular bass, has upped in pitch, one that resembles what it is typically: light-hearted, carefree, antagonizing. "My Lady-" I get the word out, but in the moment she flicks her wrist, a cloud of stardust whisks me away from the front of the chamber where they stand. Then, a sickening crack that sunders the stone pillars and fills the space more than it was before.
Around me, the stars that had stayed dormant begin to grow bright, each one exploding sequentially, the explosion shaking not just the palace but the earth. She is trying to manifest the entirety of her divinity. It is akin to declaring war. "MY LADY!" I shout, trying to get my voice over the explosions and distance, but it's useless. I can't even see Aspirus in his seat. If nothing changes, the mortal plane will feel the ripples of her activities.
There is a comforting hand placed over my eyes. I can feel the chill of their touch, like being blanketed by a winter night. "Aren't you tired?" The voice speaks to me tauntingly, and I can't hold on. I feel myself being laid down on the ground, my vision twisted and blurred. Ahead, I can see the light of the expanding and exploding stars being...dimmed? The room is growing darker and darker. At first, I am scared of the repercussions of immediate aggression. However, my mind doesn't buzz long enough to care as I drift off.
I step forward, the grass beneath my feet, the sky above my head. When I was a child, swinging a pickaxe toward the walls of an old mine trapped beneath the surface, all I ever wanted was to see the stars. We weren't allowed to leave the cold earth, to rise onto the surface and take into view the world existing even a step above what we considered the sky.
There is rustling at my sides. Mortals? Tens of them stepping out from a nearby hamlet, their gaze up toward the stars. Streaks of light begin to plummet across the starry backdrop. Burning brightly as the celestial objects cascade across like paint on a canvas, sliding out of vision. The stars are falling. Anxiety seizes my form. They can only fall if Daila stops holding them up, to do that-
I look around, mortals everywhere: outside homes, in the field, in the trees, all trying to gaze at the sight of pure awe. To them, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. To me, it is something I hope I'll never see again. It is here that I realize I am dreaming.
"Ohan," the startling, childish voice whispers into my ear. I shoot up, looking around desperately for her eminence. She is gone; instead, there is a child, no different in stature than me. For a moment, I begin to guess who they are. We sit on the floor of the Constellarium.
"Where's Lady Daila?" I ask urgently, trying to piece everything together. They shrug, the Aspect stands, and I see a darkened dot on the cloth wrapped to their leg. Touching the side of my mouth—I am drooling.
"Bad dream?" I shift my head to the side, unsure of what she means. I am positive I left with Lady Daila for the Abyssal Palace. Was it just a dream? Can you dream inside a dream? That shouldn't be possible. I sprint away, my legs carrying me through the expanse of our home, searching around for the master we all serve. No one has seen her in weeks. I had just seen her what felt like minutes ago.
The Constellarium exists within the bounds of the astral plane. It is as infinite as the space it exists in...yet it isn't. The infinity of the space is dependent on whether you are watching the stars as you go or looking down. You'd reach the end of Daila's space with little effort. I look up, my steps reaching a cliff's edge. Below, a sheer drop into
the lands beyond. Turning, my gaze wandering the boundary, I see her. Lying on the edge of the drop, her chest rising softly in slumber. Gods can't sleep. For a long time, I thought Avatars were no different, but the ability to choose which level of consciousness to take is a power reserved for Daila. Few others can willingly enter a state of stagnation as she does without trying. Sleep. All Aspects need sleep. I sometimes feel bad for the deities. Sure, being powerful is nice, but to never sleep? To live every waking moment without rest? I would die.
Sitting down with my legs hanging over the cliff, I raise her onto my lap like the other aspect has done for me. I begin to wait. She will return when she is done enjoying the scenes mortals painted in their slumber. Though that could take centuries-
"Ohan?" Or moments. She sits up, stretching her chosen form, which reminds me of that dream that didn’t feel like a dream. She looks me up and down, a mischievous grin on her lips.
"My lady-" she puts a finger to my lips and stands up.
"You were dreaming about your mortal life," she says suddenly, beginning to waltz through the open fields of lavender just at our flank. I stand quickly to follow.
Moving gracefully, ensuring nothing is trampled, she tracks through without direction. "I guess so. It was brief-" She turns, her eyes sparkling.
We reach a space free of the enshrouding plants, a small creek running endlessly in one direction. She stops, drinking from it. I can't help but see the futility. "My lady..." I start, squatting beside her. "What happened to Aspirus?" I ask. She doesn't look at me momentarily, then puts a warm palm across my vision. I begin slipping almost immediately.
"Aren't you tired?"
