Written Wonderland

Evan was pleasantly surprised when the goddess responded to his playful question by leaning in, laying her head on top of his, his cheek pressing into the nook of her shoulder. He sighed heavily against her, and tightened his arms around her in a hug, his whole body nearly glowing with affection and relief.

After a moment of relishing that feeling, Evan noticed that the goddess' attention seemed to be elsewhere. He had half a mind to be indignant about that, but, half a mind to feel a little relieved, too, and then also curious. He tugged at the threads that had seemed to connect his experience and hers, and found a faint flicker of movement underground before the goddess returned her attention to him, smiling. He felt her longing for him, vivid images of tangling here on the forest floor, potent awareness of their bodies pressed against each other, but then she pulled away entirely, leaving Evan pressed against the tree, bearing the nearly painful frantic tug on his body in her wake.

"No. You keep distracting me," she said with playfulness in her tone, and Evan forced an airy laugh as he gathered his resolve and pushed himself from the tree to follow after her. 'You want to see distracting....' he thought playfully, maybe a little menacingly, but didn't follow through, though the pull of the forest floor was palpable. To both his relief and chagrin, the goddess was expanding her focus out into the landscape again, and ultimately led them to the mouth of a cave, though it took Evan a moment to realize it was there.

"We're here," the goddess said, turning to Evan as she placed a hand on a jagged rock at the cave's entrance. "Stay close to me."

Evan swallowed, discomfort settling into his gut as he truly took in the sight of the cave: it was barely large enough for one of them to walk through at a time, an anxious prickles scraped across his back. He didn't like enclosed spaces, but he supposed there was no helping it.

He watched quietly as the goddess poured some wine over the entrance of the cave, and then took a drink of it herself. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to revel in the memory of the wine; in her experience of it now. Even if there was an ache deep within him, it was worth it for the nostalgia and pride, especially feeling how it lit a fire for the goddess, and himself.

He realized, though, that the goddess held out the canteen to him, and a flutter of nervousness spread over his chest. He was doing all right so far, swimming through the heady longing that the wine drew out, but he worried about becoming actually distracting if he dove too much farther in.

"Your hands on me," the goddess said as his hand closed around the canteen to accept it despite his anxiety. "Your desire for me, the pain you give yourself, they all bolster me. If something seems to go wrong..."

Her voice was a little distant, her attention on the ground. Evan swallowed, and turned his own attention down to the canteen. Maybe he wouldn't be a distraction, then. It was a strange thought, but an exciting one. Gathering his resolve, he took a gulp of the wine from the canteen, a bit more generously this time, trusting that the goddess could genuinely benefit from his intoxication. Besides, this wasn't just any wine, and he wasn't drinking to numb himself; quite the opposite, really. He rolled the dark fruit and rich soil and virile blood through his senses before he swallowed them down into his belly, and swayed slightly--as though bobbing over a calm ocean wave in pure blissful pleasure--before he met the goddess's eyes, and nodded resolutely as he held the canteen back out to her.

The goddess was grateful when Evan actually took a drink. He didn't seem one to care much about overindulging himself, so she was surprised at first at his hesitance. But, she supposed she understood--he didn't have any idea what to expect next.

Turning her attention back to the cave, she took a deep breath and entered the tight space, her body touching the rock wall on all sides. She had to bend her knees to keep her head from scraping.

The space was dark. Very dark, between the fact that there was already little light outside and there was absolutely no light coming from the inside of the cave. As the goddess inched her way down into through the crevasse, however, the wine settled more deeply into her belly, and in the darkness, memories of the aftermath of visiting the waterfall with Evan and the moment she pressed him against the tree swirled around her. The happiness of those moments coursed through her body electrically, and by the time all the light had vanished entirely, her skin had begun to glow with light purple. The goddess glanced back at Evan, a soft smile settling on her lips to see Evan alight with her body's own coloring. He really was beautiful, even in his fear and uncertainty. And he only made her glow brighter.

As she continued to push forward, the rock seemed to expand outward, allowing them a little more space. The goddess no longer had to bend down, and she had to reach with her fingertips to touch the rock wall on both sides. She stepped lightly, her expanded awareness making it obvious that they were getting close to the source of the movement and light.

Finally, she saw a sleeping shape against the far side of a large cavern that they had arrived in and knew that they had found what they were looking for. She motioned to Evan and pushed a finger to her lips to indicate that he should be quiet.

She approached the being carefully, its large black mass beginning to show some identifiable traits. Horizontal and vertical lines of purple crisscrossed over the creature's body, glowing more brightly as it inhaled. As she got closer, she began to remember where she had first encountered this shape, this nightmare.

Lightning streaked across the sky, and the goddess watched a dark castle emerge in the dreamscape. She walked in through the castle gates and looked around, sensing something stirring in the upper rooms. There was a rhythmic thudding sound that was quicker than the thunder but seemed to make it echo through the halls. The goddess climbed the stairs to the next floor, looking into one bedroom and then another as she tried to find the source of the sound. Finally, she came into a room where a grizzled man was beating a shape made of rags and skin on the floor near the fireplace. The man was wailing on the form with his fists, occasionally grabbing something off the mantle to aid in the process. The rags and skin were not moving. Instinctively, the goddess ran to stop the man, crying out to interrupt the process. The man looked at her angrily but then with fear as he realized what he had been doing.

"You made me do this," he said, looking at the goddess. "You made me do this." On some level, she didn't doubt him, but she had no idea what he was talking about. Before long, the man ran from the room, further into his own nightmare. The goddess stayed to survey the shape on the ground. There was blood and cloth and broken skin, and she wasn't sure what she would find if she tried to uncover it. She gently tried to rouse the being, touching a spot that looked less damaged than the rest. After a moment, the figure lashed out at the goddess, a woman with ragged blonde hair, her teeth sharp and angry. The goddess put her hands up and placed a transparent purple barrier between her and the woman's clawlike nails as they ravaged the air between them.

The goddess tried to coax the woman, tried to speak to her, but she could tell that the woman could not hear anything. Perhaps a side effect of the beatings. The goddess looked at the woman as she flailed and cried out, and an intense sadness came over her. She wished she could help her, this dream creation, whoever she was to the man who was dreaming. Maybe she could at least give her another place to exist. Closing her eyes, the goddess focused on deepening the dream just where the two of them were. The goddess saw two nearly overlapping circles behind her closed lids swirling together and making the world around them feel heavy.

Before long, the nightmare faded, and the goddess opened her eyes to find the woman just outside the goddess' summoning circle. The goddess extinguished the torches quickly and intended to approach the woman, prepared to erect another barrier at a moment's notice. The blond woman looked around, her wounds slowly closing as ashy black coloration began to creep up her exposed arms and legs. She was being incorporated into the realm and would soon take the shape of so many of the other dreams the goddess had collected. Another sadness crept over the goddess. Was this a better fate than being confined to that man's nightmare? She didn't know, but she hoped so. The woman started screaming as she watched the black continue creeping up her skin until it completely enveloped her mouth, and she fell silent. The demon looked around, stared for a moment at the goddess, and fled.

In the cave, the goddess' sadness only grew having remembered this nightmare so vividly. Not everyone lost themselves that way when they entered her realm, but it seemed to happen more and more often since the goddess had become trapped. And, not all the demons had reacted the way this one had--some of them seemed genuinely grateful for another chance at existence, but others...

The goddess looked back at Evan with tears in her eyes before she touched the demon to rouse it from its sleep, a horrifying screech immediately following.

Evan watched the goddess turn and head into the cave with another nervous swallow. Anxiety buzzed through him, but the wine seemed to slow it, magnifying it into undulating waves that he could almost ride for pleasure. The goddess barely scraped through the small opening, and for once, Evan was awkwardly grateful for his comparatively shorter height. He was at least able to stand up straight as he sidled into the cave behind her, but his back had little choice than to press against the cave wall, his knees choosing their paths carefully or else bumping into unexpected divots and juts in the rocks surrounding him. Occasionally, he reached forward, fingers eagerly brushing against the goddess' hip as they descended into darkness, Evan's body nearly thrumming with the waves of fear and alertness that suffused his experience, albeit tempered--or, perhaps harmonized--by the languor of intoxication he felt settling over him, gently urging his skin to feel the cave wall as less of an imprisonment and more of an embrace.

Eventually, as Evan allowed himself to relax into that sensation--of caresses rather than scrapes, affectionate taps rather than bumps, reassuring pressure rather than suffocation--the cool friction of the walls almost started to resemble running water, and as he blinked in the darkness his eyes started to catch glimpses of dancing colors, reminding him of the flowers that bloomed in his perception by the waterfall, inviting him to play in this place. He sighed with relief and happiness as he felt a final wave of fear of the space dissipate, leaving his skin tingling in its wake, and joy dancing in his belly. He could feel it in the goddess' belly, too, memories of her smile as she held him against the tree echoing forward from those moments before they'd arrived here. She looked back at him inside the cave, her face smiling again, and Evan realized her skin was literally glowing, lighting them both with glimmers of sparking purple, bubbling to the brim with their shared glee.

Finally, the cave began to expand, and Evan found himself widening his arms to trace its walls with his fingertips, still feeling echoes of the river running over his skin. The sensation slowly dissipated as the cave widened enough that Evan had to choose a side to walk along, his awareness and the goddess' widening into the cavern as they entered. The goddess motioned to a sleeping shape against the far side of the cavern, and gently pressed a finger to her lips. Evan nodded in understanding, and shifted his attention enough to his steps to ensure he was treading lightly.

As they approached the being, Evan began to make out lines of purple crisscrossing the body, and his mind couldn't help drawing up memories of the demons he'd seen before to compare and contrast--their smoky hands on him, holding him down on the bed before his and the goddess' first merger. The skin on his hips tingled and ached, phantom sensations of the burns she had given him, and he was honestly unsure whether the memory was painful or pleasurable. Both, he supposed.

But then lightning streaked across his awareness, and Evan stopped moving, suddenly unsure where he was in relation to the being or even the rest of the cave. Or, were they in a castle? Something thudded in the distance, rhythmically, unceasingly, and anxiety began to thrum within him again. Evan wanted to avoid the sound, but the goddess seemed intent to find it. Some part of him writhed and twisted, but he followed her, resolved not to leave her side.

They found a man wailing on something--barely a shape of skin and rags on the floor. For a split second, Evan saw his father--and then himself--his heart pounding loudly in his awareness even as he realized it was neither, but a complete stranger, which was both a relief and a horrible fright. The goddess instinctively ran to stop the man, but Evan felt paralyzed, ensnared by the shame that washed over him. The man whirled on the goddess, his eyes all too familiar with fear and anger swirling through his gaze.

"You made me do this," he said to the goddess. Evan wanted to yell at him--hell, maybe hit him, as though that would help--but he also understood, more deeply and primordially than he felt prepared to face. The man ran off further into the castle, and fear opened like a maw in Evan's chest as the goddess turned her attention to the pile of skin and rags and blood. Gods, Evan wanted so badly not to look at it. His stomach turned as the goddess approached the being, and all at once teeth and claws lashed out, and Evan couldn't help closing off his awareness in panic.

Evan lurched to the side, re-finding the cave wall with shaky legs and a queasy stomach. He found the goddess still slowly approaching the sleeping form in the cavern, and his eyes widened with the dreadful realization that what he'd been seeing was a memory of some sort. He timidly felt for the rest of it, ashamed that he'd shut it out, and frankly devastated to have put that distance between himself and the goddess. She felt so very close to the being, though, and he just couldn't get too close. He caught a glimpse of the being in the goddess' realm, becoming what he saw before him. He thought he'd heard a scream. He tried to at least catch up to the goddess here in the cave while keeping his footsteps light. The goddess looked back at him with tears in her eyes, and he reached out to brush his fingers against her forearm, doing his best to send her affection and understanding. Gods, obviously, he knew that all was horribly fucking painful to look at; he hadn't been able to, himself. Fear that he'd already failed her swirled in his stomach, but he tried to keep that at bay, reaching for the memory of the goddess' hands on his neck by the tree outside to anchor him in the value he knew he did provide to her.

The goddess reached out to touch the being, and Evan hastily mustered his resolve to keep his fingers in contact with her, offering all the support and awareness he could bring to bear; even as a horrible screech tempted him to pull back again, this time, he stood strong in the face of that fear, determined not to retreat a second time now that his nerves were steeled for what was before him.

Though Evan's touches against her forearm did reassure her and remind her of his presence, the screech that the creature uttered startled her, and her hands flew momentarily to her ears to block out the sound. She knew she had to get the situation under control quickly, though, lest the nightmare attack them or try to escape. Relinquishing her ears, the goddess again heard the full breadth of the sound as it continued and even amplified.

The creature began to stand and was considerably taller and thinner than the others that stayed closer to the goddess' palace. Its skin was smoother and largely unmarked other than the glowing purple veins. Its mouth was open to reveal glisteningly sharp black teeth and a black tongue. The goddess put her hands in front of her as she continued her slow approach, instinctively beginning to make sounds, first under her breath, then louder. She knew they were not words Evan would recognize; they were something older than even the goddess fully understood, but she followed what came to mind, trusting it more than anything else she might try to calm the nightmare.

The consonants and vowels were melodic and tonal, making something of a song as they flowed from the goddess' mouth. She continued singing, the sound finally loud enough to hear--albeit subtly--under the sound of the screeching. And the screeching then softened to a dull cry before stopping altogether. But, the goddess did not stop. Her voice filled the cavern, and her body followed its rhythms, swaying as she approached the nightmare. Her hands unfolded and caressed the air as she moved, and the demon began to shrink back down, its mouth closing as though it were getting tired. Finally, the goddess reached the being and knelt in front of it, stroking its back with both of her hands and continuing to sing.

Closing her eyes, Dehaljadrun gently selected a number of the being's memories and looked at them, not spending much time with any one but trying to get an overall picture of what had occurred in the years since the being had entered the goddess' realm. It had kept to caves and all but the darkest places. It had hidden wherever anything else came near. It had looked at the sky and the landscape with confusion that never quite coalesced into an understanding that there had been anything before this place, only the knowledge that being here felt wrong.

It had not known joy or pleasure in all the time it had been here, shrinking into the shadows in an attempt to become a shadow itself. The goddess' heart ached, but she kept singing, and her skin glowed more brightly than ever.

She wanted this being to know something of the magic of this place before she transformed it and bent it to her purpose. Expanding her awareness to include the entire cavern, the goddess willed a purple shimmer into the rock, the exposed edge of it all crystallizing with smooth amethyst. Then she willed a blanket of purple shimmer to cover and cocoon the nightmare, quickly selecting a treasured dream she had discovered in the mind of one of Evan's soldiers, and passing it to the nightmare.

Wind passed gently through the curtains as two people awoke in a small room, sunshine spilling over their bodies as it nudged them to wakefulness. The woman's shimmering blonde hair caught the light beautifully as she turned toward the man and reached gently for his cheek. He smiled into her hand, kissing her palm before he pulled her closer into an embrace and pressed his chin into the crook of her neck. Her laughter echoed through the room and out toward a glistening field of golden wheat.

Only after the memory of the dream had passed to the nightmare did Dehaljadrun realize that she had used Philip's dream. The goddess glanced at Evan, unsure how much the wine would allow him to see into her thoughts but aware that it was possible. Regardless, she kept singing, the cocoon she had created becoming more tightly wound around the nightmare, which had begun to soften and change.

Soon, it flashed momentarily with a bright white light and stretched into a thin shape in the air that no longer resembled a person at all. The movement and life that the goddess had sensed from the nightmare in her expanded awareness was gone. Where to, the goddess did not exactly know. Did dreams also spend time in the Underworld? She hoped this one would not and would instead become again part of the atmosphere that made dreaming itself possible.

The goddess's singing quieted until she was silent, though her hands moved up and down across the thin cocooned shadow in a gesture that resembled sewing, though she touched nothing. Soon, the cloak began to take shape, the purple threads of the cocoon slowly weaving themselves into the shadow until they could no longer be seen. And, when it was done, the cloak settled out of the air into the goddess' waiting arms.

She stroked the fabric once, twice, mourning the loss of what she had tried to protect and hoping that this was a better outcome for the woman. The goddess looked down at the cloak, a sudden anger burning in her chest as she remembered who she would be giving this to. Samael would be able to shapeshift with his. It was a rare and precious gift. She didn't want to think about any of the reasons he might want it.

With bitterness, she stood, still facing away from Evan and finally managed to swallow her frustration. While they still had the cloak, perhaps Evan might make use of it. But not here. This place, still crystallized and glowing with amethyst stones, was holy and sacred. A shrine of remembrance.

The goddess began to make her way back out of the cave, gingerly holding the cloak in both hands.

The screech went on and on, boring into Evan and tearing at his nerves. He clenched his jaw and groaned through the pain of it, the shame of it--he felt somewhere deep in his core that he deserved whatever this demon dished out at him, though that feeling vibrated with terror as the creature stood, tall and lanky, its mouth opening to reveal menacing black teeth. Its skin was smoother than the charred demons he'd encountered before, and Evan was taken off guard by the clarity with which he was suddenly reminded of Captain Bronwen--harkening poignantly back to violent fantasies he'd had about her. Guilt burned at his cheeks, but he didn't let it stall him; his body pressed forward to keep up with the goddess as she moved, fingers stubbornly keeping contact with her.

The goddess moved her hands in front of her, and Evan trailed his touch to the base of her spine. He felt some kind of vibration through it before he realized she was speaking--singing, very nearly, her tone slowly starting to rise above the demon's screech, which Evan realized also started slowly to fade. He couldn't understand the words, but something about the goddess' voice touched him deeply. His body began to relax as the demon's screech subsided, but his throat remained constricted, a giant, heavy knot forming as tears started to pool over his eyes. Eventually, the demon was silent, and the goddess' voice reverberated throughout the cavern, beautiful and soothing and powerful, and Evan let out a soft sob, doing his best to keep himself together, but needing to release some of the tension that had built up in his throat.

Once the goddess reached the demon, she knelt down in front of it, and Evan followed suit, but let his hand caress down to her ankle, his impulse to kneel explicitly behind her, his head bowed to the demon with deference and apology. He had to be there, but he could give the demon at least a modicum of space from him and the parts of himself that had understood the man in the memory he had gleaned.

The goddess was focused on the demon for a time, and Evan peeked, but ultimately focused his attention on her ankle for the duration; it seemed like the goddess was more looking at the demon's time in her realm than anything about the memory in the castle, and the former didn't feel like his business. He wasn't sure if that was the right impulse or not, but all he could do was follow his intuition here.

He expanded with the goddess when he felt her expanding, and his attention caressed the exposed rock of the cavern as it bloomed into amethyst, shimmering with awe and beauty. A blanket of that purple shimmer cocooned the demon, like warm covers lit with sunshine gently nudging a couple towards wakefulness. Evan imagined a woman's blonde hair catching the sunlight beautifully, her hand cupping her partner's cheek. The man smiled into her hand and kissed it, and Evan cringed when he realized he imagined Philip of all people pulling this woman into a close embrace. For a moment he was confused, but he caught the goddess looking to him, and her gaze sparked the realization that that probably hadn't so much been Evan's imagination as an actual memory the goddess had pulled from the lieutenant. He didn't understand why the goddess had shared it, and it filled him with confusion and revulsion and an ache he couldn't describe, but he clenched his jaw and resolved to trust her, his fingers tightening their grip around her ankle in a bid to re-anchor himself in the touch of her skin and the sound of her voice, her singing still echoing throughout the shimmering cavern.

The shimmering blanket around the demon tightened, the demon's form seeming to soften and shift within it, and Evan swallowed, uncertain how to feel about it being a literal cocoon. He supposed, the demon certainly hadn't seemed happy in its current form, so perhaps this was a good thing. That was harder to hold onto when the cocoon suddenly flashed with light and stretched out thin, and Evan got the distinct impression that some kind of life had left it.

The goddess' singing subsided, leaving Evan's ears ringing in the silence as she gestured over the cocoon. It slowly morphed its shape until it began to resemble a cloak, ultimately settling into the goddess' arms. She stroked it mournfully, but then grew angry, thinking of Samael. Evan's stomach turned over again, disgust bubbling up within him that they were going to give this cloak to him. And then, following it, frustration at himself--if he only hadn't slept through her portal on that third night, or if only he hadn't suggested they try to go back to camp together in the first place...

The goddess stood, and Evan scrambled to his feet after her, the ringing in his ears and the tension and disgust in his body confounding his coordination as he stumbled to his feet. She held the cloak gingerly, and for a moment Evan felt jealous of it, like her fingers on that fabric somehow meant that he should keep his hands to himself. But, he replayed what she had told him outside the cave--that his longing for her bolstered her--and he mustered the courage to reach out and touch the base of her spine again as he followed her out of the cavern, his fingertips doing their best to convey warmth and comfort and longing and a poignant, earnest whisper of, I'm sorry glowing from his heart.

The goddess had a vague notion of how clouded Evan was behind her, his feet stepping irregularly as he returned to standing, but she couldn’t—or refused to—sort out his emotions. She had too many of her own. She walked back toward the smaller opening of the cave, and Evan reached out to touch the base of her spine. The cloak had taken too much of her focus for her to notice the first time he had done it, but this second time, she was suddenly flooded with his melancholy and confusion.

He was jealous of the magic that lay in her arms, uncomfortable—like she was—about giving the cloak to Samael, and unsurprisingly, confused about Philip’s dream. She also felt threads of identification, not with the woman who had become the nightmare but with the man who had beat her. The goddess winced, a shiver running up her spine, simultaneously sharp and thrilling.

Why should she be surprised that Evan had a violent streak in him? Hadn’t his boldness with her indicated as much? Or that he was a captain in a war? And which humans didn’t? She hadn’t met any. Still, the guilt in Evan stirred fear in her. Had he done something he regretted?

She didn’t want to ask him about it here. She wanted out of this place. Forging forward, she stepped carefully through the narrow opening, bending down and shifting to protect the cloak from snagging on the wall.

When she rounded the corner of the outer rockface, she took a deep breath, a significant relief crashing over her. She could breathe again.

Looking back to make certain that Evan had followed her, she smiled softly. Even the sight of him bolstered her. She could not deny that she felt her magic stir within her while he was around. And for good reason. And yet, she was well aware that everything that just happened was in no way the “hunt” he had had in mind. But how would she have explained something like that ahead of time?

The goddess looked down at the cloak, folding it into a smaller shape to make it easier to carry, its black shape darker than dark against her lavender skin.

She suddenly had an impulse to lash out at Evan. To make him angry at her. Bring up his parents, maybe. She wanted to feel something other than this vague guilt they shared. She wanted to hear him yell at her, scream at her, talk her down from… from what?

Crestfallen, the goddess turned in the direction of the center of her realm. As they walked, the land looked more and more lush, becoming healthier and less consumed. Without turning around, Dehaljadrun quietly said, “He was probably right, you know, the man in the nightmare.
It probably is my fault.” She let that stand for a moment, walking along a path she made in the low foliage as she went.

“I am the goddess of desire. And what he desired…” The goddess shook her head, her dark hair waving across her back.

“I’ve seen it before. I’ve done things like it before. People have begged…” The goddess’ voice caught in her throat.

“Human hearts are murderous and violent and treacherous and barbarous things,” the goddess said, tears beginning to fall down her cheeks before she even realized she was crying, “but I have never managed to turn away from them. I… I love them. All of them. Especially…” Pain surged through her chest, and the goddess stopped to lean over, reaching a hand out to a tree, which almost immediately responded under her touch, a twig with dark leaves growing just above her smallest finger. She barely registered it. The pressure in her chest made it difficult to speak or even breathe.

Lifting her head the slightest bit in Evan’s direction though her face was still entirely covered by her hair, she said, “Maybe… maybe without me…” She paused, having a difficult time forming the words. “Am I what’s corrupting them?” Standing up straight again, she let go of the tree and turned back toward Evan, her tear-stricken expression bare and vulnerable. “And you? Am I only encouraging you?”

Evan followed the goddess tensely through the tight mouth of the cave, swimming through thick anxiety about the encroaching walls and the ways she felt distant from him, even when his fingers brushed her skin. She was focused, he supposed, determined to get out of the cave and into the open air, which he could certainly understand. That swimming sensation nearly felt like drowning by the end of it, the pressure on his lungs immense and his senses flooded with deep black confusion and angst and uncertainty.

The end of the cave ultimately took him by surprise and he fell right onto his ass--he hadn't realized just how hard he'd been leaning against that cave wall at the end of it, his shoulders a bit tender and buzzing from the friction. He was able to take in a deep, fresh breath, though, and that cleared a good bit of the murkiness he'd been swimming through. He caught the goddess' eyes, too, and she smiled at him, which lightened his body considerably. He smiled back, a bit crooked and playfully aware of the clumsily propped-up position he'd fallen into.

With a light sigh he pushed himself back to his feet, rather more steadily than he'd managed back inside the cave, though he bristled before he quite settled his stance. He searched her face a little frantically, uncertain if he'd detected some sudden hostility, and he was admittedly angry to see her looking down at the cloak instead of at him. But, he exhaled methodically, clenching and unclenching his fists with purpose to move some of that tension through him, and to summon the resolve to bear what remained.

He was grateful for that resolve when the goddess actually seemed more crestfallen than hostile, his body moving instinctively to catch up with her as she started to walk. Truthfully, he assumed a sort of defensive stance, as though protecting her from dangers that might lurk in the woods. He didn't necessarily think that there were any, but it was the most comfortable way to hold his body, and to exist in relation to her for the moment. He was just starting to check in with her again to recalibrate how he wanted to interact with her while they walked, when she quietly spoke.

“He was probably right, you know, the man in the nightmare. It probably is my fault.”

Evan swallowed heavily, his whole body flashing hot with warring sensations. Indignance and vindication and anger and shame and grief and more than he could put words to flared all at once, though they also dissipated smoothly enough, almost as though the heat he felt was warm flames burning through fuel and sending it off as smoke on the wind.

“I am the goddess of desire. And what he desired…” The goddess shook her head, her dark hair waving across her back.

“I’ve seen it before. I’ve done things like it before. People have begged…” The goddess’ voice caught in her throat.

Evan tried to use the space those flames had created in his body to actually try to think, though it was tricky to navigate the flashes of images that came to mind--punches he'd taken and thrown, yelling and screaming, his sword plunging into the spy’s body, his cheek shoved down against tree roots under Philip's palm.

“Human hearts are murderous and violent and treacherous and barbarous things,” the goddess went on before Evan could find anything coherent to say, “but I have never managed to turn away from them. I… I love them. All of them. Especially…”

Evan's heart hurt. A hand reached up to rub at his chest as he walked, his jaw clenching to help him bear the ache and burn and throb that pulsated in him. The goddess stopped and Evan startled, turning to look at her again and try to refocus on how she was. She reached her hand out to lean against a tree, and he watched with surprise and wonder as a small branch bloomed in real time above her fingers, unfurling dark leaves as though to greet her.

The goddess lifted her head towards him, but only barely, her hair still covering her face.

“Maybe… maybe without me…”

Evan's heart broke, his expression wincing dramatically at her words. He stepped towards her, his hands already starting to reach for her arms as she continued.

“Am I what’s corrupting them?” she asked, finally standing up straight and letting her tear-strewn expression show to Evan plainly. "And you? Am I only encouraging you?”

Evan's hands grasped the goddess' upper arms with warmth and certainty, albeit with an undercurrent of anger, but not at her.

"You help me make sense of me." He let the words flow from him freely, his eyes meeting hers with the same assertive warmth as his fingers. He wasn't sure what to say next, though, so instead he shifted his energy back into his hands, one moving to brush hair from her face while the other caressed up and down over her arm. Uncertainty did start to bubble as he searched for more words, though, finding that the pull of inertia towards what had happened with Philip the other night was only growing stronger, queasiness bubbling up in his stomach each time he found himself revisiting the thought.

Did he dare talk about it? He didn’t particularly want to, but how could he possibly address what the goddess was truly asking without looking at it? He reached for the other thoughts that had come up, testing out fleshing them out instead.

Endless yelling matches with his father, the most poignant memory he could find in the moment to empathise with the demon they had--what? Transformed? Killed? Harvested? Evan truly didn’t know how to think about it. As for the yelling matches with his father, they linked directly to fantasies of the goddess--The Demon Queen--stealing him away. She had been an escape from that misery for him, or at least, some kind of release or reprieve. To say nothing of what they’d looked at together the previous night, the ambiguous ways in which the thought of her, the warmth of her, might well have kept him alive, or at least, helped him find his own will to live, misery ahead of him be damned.

Evan’s face was hot and tired, embarrassment and dejection heavy in him as he relived those thoughts. He refocused on the goddess before him, curious how she looked, how much she was seeing or feeling with him, how she was responding.

Even if she was with him, he’d picked perhaps the least-incriminating direction to go, though, and felt nervous about the skewed reply that gave. Flickers broke through of his sword through the spy, the cocky grin he knew he had worn; punches he’d thrown for stupid reasons just because he could, or maybe just to feel alive. Or to feel powerful, he supposed; was that the same thing? The look in Xavier’s eyes when Evan had nearly slapped him; the sound of striking the boy’s backside in frustration echoing through his mind.

These thoughts felt like confessions, though he wasn’t sure how clearly they were coming through to her. They weren’t especially curated, but they were offered freely, if she could see them. Evan leaned forward to gently bump his forehead against the goddess’, as though to open that touch-channel between their minds in case his hands on her arm and the side of her neck weren't enough. He had no idea if it would be too much, but truthfully, he wasn’t really thinking so much as flowing, a river of intuition taking him in directions that he hardly cared to fight against.

The thrum of what had happened with Philip was like a dull, ominous drumbeat somewhere in the distance, but Evan acknowledged it, and poignantly embraced the thought that arose that, yes, the goddess had done something wrong, but that it also wasn't so simple as that, not by a long shot. He held no anger about it at the moment, only discomfort and shame and grief.

“Do you…” Evan spoke softly, but even so, was mildly startled by the sound of his own voice. The hand on the goddess’ arm gently squeezed it, as though to remind himself of where they were and how they were touching each other.

“Are you… flowing with me?”

He grimaced slightly, frustrated by the imprecision of his wording, but he couldn’t think of a better way to ask it in the moment. He hoped she would understand. He tried shifting something, supposing he’d been speaking, in a sort of consuming sense, and he wanted to refocus on listening at this point, desperate to get a read on how she was responding to all of this, how much of it she was actually gleaning.

"You help me make sense of me," Evan said, grasping her upper arms with an anger that surprised and softened her. The feeling in her chest lightened somewhat, shaking something loose as Evan reached up to brush her hair from her face. Her eyes searched his as they met with a furious warmth as though his eyes alone could convince her of what he was saying.

But then a combination of Evan's queasiness and the goddess' own unease returned in full force, her chest crumpling and her expression pulled together in pain as Evan's memories started pouring out of him and into her.

Evan yelling at his father while his father yelled back, always leading Evan to want to leave his world.

Evan pushing his old, battered sword through an unarmed man tied to a chair in a cottage, smirking with the same cocky grin he gave her.

Evan punching someone in a tavern, instigating a fight to feel... something. Anything.

Evan staring into his lieutenant's vulnerable, fearful eyes as he reached up in preparation to slap Xavier.

Evan behind that same boy, thrusting again and again into him and slapping his backside hard enough that the sound resounded and echoed through their minds.

And, in the moment when Evan leaned forward such that their foreheads connected, the storm clouds obscuring the memory off in the distance of Evan's mind suddenly and violently lifted. Philip behind Evan, pressing Evan's face into the ground, pounding into him with excruciating force at the goddess' command.

"Do you..." She heard Evan say as he squeezed the goddess' upper arm. Dehaljadrun could barely feel it from how immersed she was in Evan's experience of that moment. She let out a loud sob, the pain in her chest and at the base of her spine overwhelming her as she broke away from Evan's touch completely, but the memory was still so vivid as to demand all her attention, the rest of her vision gone behind what neither of them wanted to look at.

"Are you flowing with me?" His voice was all but drowned out by the sounds of Philip's breathing as the goddess experienced what she had commanded from Evan's perspective, his shame and guilt and obscene pleasure colliding with her own doubt of herself to create a pressure within her she could not escape, and not for the first time today, she recognized that Evan was in danger.

She looked in what she thought was Evan's direction, her face suddenly afraid through her sobs as she held up a hand in front of her, trying to tell him to stay away from her but having no idea if she was succeeding. Gathering all her strength, she crouched and jumped, dropping the cloak and the canteen to the ground in her haste and simultaneously becoming a glowing comet of mist as she rose with immense speed up into the dark night. The stars above them were quickly obscured by thick clouds even darker than the sky that soon covered everything in dense, electric fog.

And, as the goddess collided with the mass of black atmosphere, a clap of enormous, world-shattering thunder resounded all around her and lightning spiderwebbed across the sky. The essence of her screamed, the pitch so high as to be inaudible to human or even fae ears, and the lightning struck nowhere and everywhere again, the thunder somehow even louder.

Rising even higher above the clouds, she allowed herself, in a misty approximation of her human-like form, to rest on top of one of the rolling clouds and continued to sob in harsh waves of choking gasps that made the dark clouds begin to release their water in what would soon become a flash flood if she didn't get control of herself. She sobbed and heaved and sobbed and screamed again as yet another crash of thunder and a network of lightning erupted around her.

Good gods. Get a hold of yourself, some voice within her begged. She wanted to listen to it, but the vision of Evan's pain, a red hot burning sensation of not only how much he didn't want what Philip was doing to him but also how much he felt like he deserved it--if not for her sake then for all the pain he had caused others--demanded all of the goddess' sensation and attention.

I did that to him. I did that to him. I did that to him, she heard over and over again in her mind as the rain continued.

WHAT IS EVEN THE POINT OF ME? she thought as the thunder and lightning crashed again, loud and unyielding.

You help me make sense of myself. The goddess lifted her head for a moment, trying to make sense of what that even meant as Evan's memory of Philip began, slowly, to lose its grip on her.

She did not create Evan. She didn't know what had, but she couldn't create humans. She could persuade and even coerce them, but she couldn't change what was already there. Was some portion of her inside each of them? And what would they be like without her? Without desire?

An image replaced Evan's memory as she imagined a line of expressionless humans walking aimlessly alongside each other in no direction in particular. They were, in a sense, the polar and extreme opposite of her thralls. If the thralls were only desire, these humans were completely devoid of it. Devoid of motivation, devoid of drive, devoid of purpose.

The goddess shivered, and the rain grew cold but let up somewhat as she drew as much of a breath as she could in this partial mist form.

She gave humans purpose. And destroying that would be... destroying what it meant to be human, at least as far as she could tell.

((OOC: She might need to spend a few more minutes up there before she comes down, but we figured this would be a good time for Evan to respond/act if he wants to. That's probably the end of the lightning. Also, I think the distance is going to make it difficult for the wine to have much of an effect on how much he picks up on her thoughts, but he can definitely sense into them before she takes off. Also, Evan can go outside of the dome. She's just doing the best she can in the moment to protect him.))

((OOC: ok ummmmmm we just fkn ran with some things lol let us know if anything seems out of step but it seemed like the thing to just try it and see how it landssssss lol))

The goddess let out a sob and pulled away from Evan, dragging a sharp pain down the core of him. He couldn't help reaching after her, but ultimately closed his fist and pulled it back to his chest. She wasn't seeing him. She was trapped. Beneath Philip with her cheek pressed into the ground. Tears rolled heavy down Evan's cheeks. If he had still wanted to get back at her for that, it wasn't like this. Not like this.

He started to step towards her, some dim hope swelling that he could pull her out of it, but she held her hand up, not quite in his direction, but close enough to stop him. Gods, she looked so scared. Fear and pain and sorrow all pulsed through him, and just like that, the goddess crouched and jumped into the air, the cloak and canteen discarded to the ground in her wake. By the time Evan's eyes managed to follow the goddess upward, she was a comet of light, speeding up into the thick clouds that gathered ominously in the sky. Thunder clapped, and Evan winced, the sound of it jolting through him. Fuck, what was happening? What did he do?

Sparking chills danced across Evan’s back and he whirled around, assessing his surroundings as though there might be a threat in the woods. But there was nothing but the trees around him, and the ever-present fog in the air. Another thunderclap tore through his senses, spiderwebs of lighting ripping through the sky and nearly sparking in the fog around him, pricking his nerves to an alert, agitated state. He couldn't help the startled, frustrated yell that erupted from his chest, his feet whirling him around in another circle, his eyes sharp and panicked and instinctively reassessing his surroundings once more. Finally, his gaze fell on the canteen of wine and the cloak that lay on the forest floor, and he calmed slightly, agitation washed away by potent melancholy. Eerily and comically on queue, a torrential rain spilled out from the sky. Evan forced a bitter, airy chuckle, but his heart was heavy with the sense that each drop was a tear the goddess was shedding. Gods, what a mess they were in.

With a heavy sigh, Evan carefully crouched down next to the now-soaked cloak and canteen. The canteen he picked up after just a moment, slinging it over his shoulder like the goddess had done. He certainly didn't need any more of it at this point, but it seemed like it wouldn't hurt to keep it on him. It was the cloak that he was really here eyeing, though, his heart heavy and thudding in his ears as he studied it. After a moment, he slowly reached out and caressed the edge of it with the second knuckle of his forefinger, almost like the first cautious stroke of petting a stray hound after it's accepted the scent of his palm. Not that he was sure this one actually accepted his scent, per se. Could it even? He hadn't had time to ask the goddess questions about it. There hadn't been space. Was this still alive in any sense? Did it care who he was, what he'd done, which figure in that vision he'd most resonated with?

With a wary swallow, Evan picked the cloak up and stood with it, letting it unfold and spread out before him in the thuddy rain and sparking fog. After taking in the weight and sight and feel of it, he furled it into one hand to free the other to attempt to shield his eyes from the rain as he turned his gaze towards the sky. What should he do? Wait this out? Call for her? Go after her somehow?

Evan looked back to the cloak in his hand. She had said it had something to do with shapeshifting. Images of her dragon and of the tattoo on his side flashed through his mind and he swallowed, a quaking thump echoing through his chest at the thought. He felt absolutely insane. But, when had he let that stop him?

Ah, but something else did hold him back. Evan envisioned swinging the cloak around his shoulders, but guilt and queasiness turned over his stomach and his hand clenched the cloak tightly in front of him. He scarcely felt he had the right to wear it. But yet, what else should he do?

With a sigh, Evan closed his eyes and felt the rain wash over him, the buzz in the fog continue to prick at his nerves and keep him on his toes. With a waver of hesitation, he let himself remember the moment the figure of rags had lashed out in the vision, his whole body jolting and tensing but his eyes remaining stubbornly shut. He had to look at it. He couldn’t think of another way forward.

He let the creature’s claws run him through, his body shuddering around the sensation but a steadfast certainty supporting him, that he could take this. He could endure what the vision needed to do to him. He had to. It opened its gaping maw of black teeth and swallowed him whole.

He tumbled through images--memories and fantasies alike--his hand grasping the cloak resolutely against his chest, determined not to let it go. He could feel Blake’s ice-cold glare, could remember wearing that same glare at some godsdamned stupid event where he was supposed to be seen and not heard, no matter what his father said about him. Cruel laughter echoed in a dark void, the sensation of helpless falling suffusing his attention.

He landed back in the room he’d had as a boy, clutching this cloak like a pillow to his chest as he curled up on his bed, listening to his father’s boisterously disappointed voice bellow down the hallway. Evan felt himself unravel, a pile of rags wrapped around this cloak, holding on for dear life. Sobbing. Reaching desperately for a dangling purple thread.

Evan managed to grab hold of it with his free hand, and he swung through the forest, landing hard on his feet and stumbling through a roll before he managed to get his bearings and run. He glanced down to the cloak, half apologizing for the rough landing, half making sure it hadn’t torn. But in the moment of distraction, he hit the ground hard, a hand shoving his cheek against the dirt, and panic coursed through him.

He felt a tug toward becoming the hand--the man behind the hand, holding someone else down to the ground, rather than feel the pain on the horizon. It was a familiar sensation, but one Evan turned away from. Instead, he let out a breath and stepped to the side, looking at these two figures of flesh and rags, tangling together and ripping each other apart. Evan felt heavy with melancholy, and practically cradled the cloak in his arms. But a determination smoldered in his gut, flickering into flame and warming him with relief.

Evan’s chest quaked as he drew in his next shaky, sobbing breath, his eyes opening back into the torrential rain and static fog of the goddess’ forest, feeling mercifully empty of something, and ready to fill himself with something new.

With a long, deep, purposeful exhale, Evan unfurled the cloak again, and this time, followed through on his vision to drape it over his shoulders. The sensation of wings spreading from his back flickered into him before the cloak even settled, his whole being eager and ready to soar into the sky to find the goddess, threats of lightning be damned. If her scales could shimmer and buzz with electricity, why not his? He launched as a great black dragon into the sky, unhesitatingly requisitioning whatever he needed from the magic of this place to do it. He thanked the cloak, thanked the realm, thanked the goddess, and promised to pay it back. Whatever it took to reach her.

Fine, then, there was a point to her, but was she accomplishing that point? What on earth had she given purpose to lately?

Evan.

The source of all her current fury and shame. Her savior and yet an embodiment of all her own vices. He was similar enough to her that she didn't want or need to change her shape with him. She just... was.

And she knew with a certainty that made her chest hurt that he wasn't just going to the Underworld to get allies or win a war, he was going for her.

She was his purpose. He wanted to see her freed.

And then what? The goddess remembered the way the humans devoid of purpose looked and wondered if Evan would suddenly become like them if she... disappeared.

No, he'd be mad as hell and sadder than she was right now with the lightning still threatening to boom again through the cloud beneath her and the rain barreling through her as she stared down toward nothing in particular. He would find something else to fight for. He was practically the will to live itself.

An image of Evan's snarky grin as he looked up toward her while he was pinned down to the table came to mind followed quickly by his grim determination when her dragon slid a scale toward him. She saw the way Evan ran hands over and stroked himself--freed himself--from maintaining a reputation among his men after he had summoned her. She saw the way his lips shaped to form her name.

He wasn't going to let her give up, even if she had already released the Shel'ti. They were both in this together now.

Maybe he could help her find her own purpose.

With a heavy sigh, the goddess turned away from the cloud and looked up at the storm around her, the rain quieting and the lightning retracting back toward her somewhat. It wasn't going to be easy, but she could keep making it up to Evan. She could... she could... The goddess huffed again and rolled onto her side, her eyes squeezing shut as another cascade of lightning dashed around her and thunder rumbled half-heartedly.

But then, all at once, there was another presence in the cloud cover with her.

Evan. Before she was able to venture a guess as to what happened, she opened her eyes and turned his direction, the mist that accounted for her form sparking from shock and awe. An enormous black dragon had entered the clouds, pumping its muscular wings ferociously in her direction. If she wasn't kidding herself, his scales were even sparking with her lightning. He must have used the cloak.

The goddess had become unmistakably bright at the sight of him, the misty representation of her thick hair swirling up and around her. Stepping on a number of clouds, she ventured toward him to meet him, looking into his great silver serpentine eyes with a melancholy she couldn't explain with words.

She reached out to his mind and enveloped him with her own such that he could feel her and speak with her.

I can't promise I won't hurt you again, she said to him, unable to bring herself to say I'm sorry. And it was true. There were too many wounds in Evan that wanted acknowledgement, wanted to be forced deeper into him such that he could see them for what they were. Such that someone else could see them for what they were. And she was going to obey his desires above all else. Or at least default to them.

But, I want to flow with you. She got close enough to touch the snout of Evan's dragon, brushing her sparking, misty fingertips along his wet, smooth scales. He was here for her, and this felt more right than anything she had known in the past decade, maybe longer. The goddess wanted this--this relationship, this attempt at freedom--to be the path she was destined for. And it felt like it could be.

She opened completely to Evan, wider and farther than she had before, her experience and his experience blending so thoroughly that there was nothing but a blur of identity between them. Only demand, desire, compulsion, primal nature. She opened and watched as two black figures outlined against a gray sky fought and tumbled in slow motion, their hearts the only bit of color pumping hot, red blood through their bodies. The red slowly spread fiercely through both of them, the glowing red brighter and brighter as one figure pressed another into the dark ground, hand clasping and thrashing at the grass. The larger of the two figures thrust against the one on the ground, and red flared and burned through both of them. A sensation of vivacity, of pure, interrupted life spilled from the red in their bodies, splashing the ground, coloring the sky. And then the goddess let the shame flood into the image, a deep bluish purple that traced the red at every turn and possibility, curving around each tendril of blood vessel like a lover. And then, the heartbreak: a wash of turquoise blue in both their chests that spilled out over the smaller figure's back and sides. After another moment, the goddess allowed both Evan and Philip, their clothes, their flesh, to appear in the image, the sound completely muted as the two of them tangled, lost in the sensations they were giving each other, giving themselves.

And then, finally, the goddess opened yet more and showed Evan the center of her own being, a swirling back and purple mass of galaxies and mist, the core of which had an unmistakable sensation of greed and hunger and lust of exactly what had occurred between Evan and Philip. But then the goddess allowed the red and purple and blues to appear in her own core, complicating the image until it was altogether too dazzling to look at, a bright white beginning to exude out of everything in all directions.

Opening her eyes, the goddess retreated somewhat, keeping contact with Evan mentally only enough to see or hear whatever thoughts or images he might send her direction.

It feels good to hurt you, the goddess said, the rain increasing around them again as the goddess tilted her head and stroked down the side of the dragon's face. It feels good to be hurt. The goddess said, pulling her hand away and turning halfway around.

((OOC: I don't think she feels the magic he uses up because it's self-contained in the cloak. But also, even if he did use some of her magic, she probably wouldn't have realized it amidst the lightning. That shit is powerful, yo. Also, we are assuming that he managed to dodge this last set of bolts.))