 There is blood between them, blood and light. Everything she has ever needed is here in this alley with her, death and life on which hangs the promise of a hundred more ends. Eshek does not blink again. It looks like a star has gorged itself upon the sharp tines of Denocte until all the edges of it were too weak to hold in all that fat brightness.
In history it has always been bright things that brought revelation. There is history in every inch of her. Her bones could be made of scrolls in which secrets never die. She is writ and revelation. Eshek is that star dashed across the stone tines of every court.
She is. She is. She is. She will always be.
The ghoulish precipice of her muzzle lays itself across the blood too thick to dry pooling in the crescent moon curve of his horns. The blood tastes like nothing on her tongue, only light has any taste at all to her-- only light. She smiles and her teeth become empty altar cups for the offerings dripping like grotesque tears from him.
“I would only ask one thing of you.” Blood makes her voice a whisper of space, black and devouring of almost every other sound in the world. But she knows he can hear her. She knows. She knows. She always knows.
“Come home.” Those altar cups in her mouth are empty. She could fit all of him in that emptiness. There is a home in all the hollow brightness of her for every boy with blood on horns shaped like dying moons.
Home is in her.
Eshek pulls away and home moves with her. Blood shines of on her nose like an eclipse of light, like a prophecy. She turns back to the filthy sand that looks like gold and tastes like nothing.
It is not home to which she goes. But she is god, and gods are home for mortal boys.
eshek
“a fathomless chaos of eternal night.”
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