Let The Games Begin. The Eternal, The Cosmic, The Forever and The Powerful. Let Them Begin and They Will Never For A Moment Think Of Ending.

The very air shattered, the noise beyond deafening, as Neart and Beithíoch returned to Siobhan with forms new and magnificent. Seeing them there, Siobhan felt the tears roll down her face as the beauty of both of the overwhelmed her. She had known of course, but to see them here, their faces and perfect forms so bright and new, it was so perfect that there was no other word that could be used to describe them.

Beithíoch stood hundreds of feet tall in the cavernous void they stood in, his skin was black and red with Siobhan’s amethyst eye emblazoned on his chest. His great wings, even as they barely moved created winds that would topple most trees. Higher still his beautiful face was the serpent now, a perfect mix of beast and fear, violence and perfection. His eyes glowed a deep amber in the darkness and even from below Siobhan could see it perfectly. Her heart nearly skipped a beat as he lowered that vast body to the floor and laid his head on the ground so his eyes were level with his. There were tears in his eyes and Siobhan knew they were not of sadness or despair, but of the greatest joy.

She next looked to her wonderful Neart, the creation of creations and marveled at how magnificent all of those legs looked on her, the muscles evident even in the void of lack that carried her. Her beauty magnified a hundredfold by the frame that supported the head with its eyes aplenty. Following Beithíoch’s example, Neart carefully folded herself downward in a way that would not seem possible to look at her and cast her gaze at Siobhan and each eye wept the same tears of Beithíoch.

“My sweet loves, here you stand before me in the truest expressions of yourself. The inner beauty that was made real, desires made flesh and all the things you did not want, removed from you forever.” Siobhan ran a hand down the faces of both of them and sat down between the two massive beings and told her tale.

“I knew there would need to be a way to distribute my justice in the world. I knew that, while I could see all, I cannot be in all places without losing attention to another. So, to you my loves, I decided to give dominion.” She looked at Beithíoch and smiled wide. “To you my greatest love, I give the and all things that look to it for meaning and hope, for love and for answers. You will speak with my voice and you will give the people what they desire for my power courses through you in ways you have yet to discover. You will ask me nothing, you will do their will because I know you cannot do anything that I would not approve of.”

She turned her head to Neart and looked at the delight of the eyes that she had been given. “To you sweet Neart, I give the Land. You will roam it, taking the things that do not belong and removing them, nurturing the things that do belong there. You will do all of this and a thousand times more because all you want is a purpose and, now, you, at last, have it. You are the Queen of Spiders now, your predecessor killed with honor and respect by my own hand, her body consumed as her wishes dictated. She died knowing that her greatest glory would succeed her.

Siobhan backed up and looked at those two wonders that she had once called children and wept her own tears.

“Now, go my loves and know that you take all of my power and ambition with you to rule over the world as I have dictated. I am Always, I am Eternity.” With that Siobhan turned and faded into the Darkness, her loves looking at one another and knowing that the world was in need of them, and as soon as they thought it, they too faded into the Darkness, their duties and obligations are known.

The Die Is Cast, The Characters Made, The Names Given, The Scene Set, The Master Story Teller Waits With A Curled Lip Smile As She Knows What Is To Come

The pain. By Siobhan Herself the Pain!

The pain spread in every direction, every fiber of his being was in agony, and yet it was a thing he knew he simply needed to push through somehow. He opened his eyes wide as the pain hot its crescendo and saw his Goddess before him, beckoning him, welcoming him home and back to where he always belonged, with her, for her. He opened his mind to speak to her, to ask her why it hurt so bad, but what came out was not words, not anything that even sounded like words.

It was a roar, a growl, an avian screech, a violent and dark noise that comforted him in its intensity even if he did not understand it. He tried again to speak and the sounds from his mouth got even louder, the air seemingly shaking around him as the sound moved through it. He did not know if he was going to be able to take any more pain. He was so strong, but there was a levy within that was about to be breached. One last noise exited the old Dara, a noise that was pain and agony, suffering and fear. Not his, no not his.

Even as the last sound exploded from him, Dara felt his arms move backward and fuse with the wings he wore proudly on his back. He looked down to the ground, so very far below him now and saw his feet and legs were mottled black and red, wider than the massive tree trunks he had run through and his entire body was covered in the same coloring, the same texture. Dara went to breathe out as panic set in and flame gushed from between his lips, a tornadic blast of wind and fire that shot thousands of feet in front of him and lit the sky up brighter than the sun with its intensity for a moment before fading to nothingness.

Panic vanished, the pain vanished, in fact, he who had been known as Dara vanished completely and Beithíoch lifted into the air with hundred-foot long wings and the mark of his Goddess emblazoned on his chest in the form of the all-seeing eye of amethyst. He leaned his head back, newly extended on a great neck and roared once more. In triumph, joy, love eternal for what he thought had just occurred. Just as he thought this his Goddess appeared to him again and held her hand out to him and waited for him to come to her through the ether of space, time and the very earth itself.

With a final roar that seemed to shake the sky itself, Beithíoch flew towards Her, his heart glad as the sky wrapped itself around him and tool him to her at last.

—-

Neart laid down upon the heather soft grass of the field around her, covered in the wonders of the family she came from, climbing on her, in her. Her mouth lolled open to allow them to be one with her as she felt the surge from within her begin and she knew what was to happen. She did not know why she knew, but all that was happening was exactly as it should be.

Her legs started first, lengthening and turning a black pitch that reflected nothing and light seemingly vanished into. There was no time to appreciate as both of those long and perfectly legs split in twain starting at the feet and racing upward like a thunderbolt. Then again. And again. Eight legs there were now, each slowly turning into the void of the darkness of its mates. Her eyes closed, forever in the form they were in now and when she next opened them she had the two eyes she had, but besides them were six others that let her see things eyes could not. Heat, the depths of the earth, the wind blowing and the patterns in made in the sky. Tears leaked from them as the love of this newfound her took hold and she felt everything from her breasts downward swell, not in fat or in pregnancy, just growing with taut muscles and the skin mirrored her legs in their blackness.

An eternity, or was it a moment, later, she who was formally Neart stood tall on her eight legs, her head above the tallest of the trees and when she opened her eyes she saw the world in ways none save her Goddess could see. She stepped with the legs as if she had always had them and her family followed her, each of them taking the size of a small down to follow her at speed. She moved faster and faster, her legs stepping between the trees and her speed was violent and wonderful.

From eyes no one had ever had she saw Siobhan beckon her and without hesitation, she turned towards her and walked into the arms of the Mother Goddess of the Universe.

Three Facets, Three Parts, Three Sections Of A Vast and Eternal Whole That Could Never Be Severed

Sated on pleasure and blood both, Siobhan languidly stood in the red sand, her eyes still fixed on how the sand ran like liquid down her skin, skin that at the precise moment was a darker red than the sand would ever be. The serpentine tongue came out of her mouth and wrapped twice around her neck, bringing all of the delicious blood into the mouth of the Dark Goddess with a sigh of pleasure and contentment. She was covered in blood, baptized in the pleasure and pain of it and she indeed did feel worshiped. All of them were gone, not even the bones remained to tell anyone what happened here, just a Goddess covered with viscera and nothing else looking into the Universe she created, wondering where next to find those that loved her as much as these ones did.

—–

Dara felt his heart hammering in his chest, the beasts long left behind him as his body felt more and more energy pour through it. He spread his arms wide, the wind pushing them back against him and only his immense strength gave him any chance of keeping them lifted as he wanted them to be. He felt the heat, such intense heat, build from deep inside of what it was to be him and it felt like it was spreading to the rest of him like a delicious virus that he wanted to roll in and make his own. It was not evil, it was nothing but the utmost expression of who Dara was. He closed his eyes, at last, his arms still in the wind, his feet hitting the groundless often, but with tremendous force when they did. He knew what was coming now, he did not know if his Goddess had gifted him this on purpose, or if it was but destiny, but as he opened his eyes and saw the horizon lower more and more as he grew, he knew the greatness inside of him was so close now.

—–

Neart stood in the center of her own world, covered in millions of her brothers and sisters as they licked and tasted every inch of the blood and gore that was left in the circle. The bones had been stripped, their fallen cannibalized, all that was left was the perfection of Neart in the center of the circle like a great beacon that drew more and more as time passed. She knew they would not, could not hurt her, she knew that she needed as many of them as there were, she needed to move to the next stage, the next level. The feeling that she knew what was coming grew every second and when she spread her wings, new and cleansed of the horrors they had wrought, she felt something building inside of her. It was a glorious thing, and then, as her eyes flew open and she smiled, she knew.

—–

Siobhan walked a moment on the sand, relishing the feel of it the last time before she closed her eyes and on her next step, she was surrounded by the darkness of home. She could feel Neart and Dara and knew they would be back soon, they would have questions and Siobhan prepared herself to give them answers. It was a necessary thing, what was happening and she knew that she had made it as wonderful for the both of them as she could but still they would be confused when they returned, but all would be well. Siobhan walked up to the dais where the Three sat and sat in the middle seat there, it was not ornate, a simple stone carving. She smiled and felt the warmth that the dress she now wore provided, the black and silver of it covered nothing, and yet revealed even less.

She closed her eyes and whispered a few words to show them the way home when they were ready.

Soon all would be revealed.

So Simple, So Direct

There was a bitterness to the cold They who were Siobhan felt as They walked closer to the light. Not the cold of ice and snow, but the chill of that which has been forgotten, ignored, and put out of every thought. It was a cold that shook the very sky above in rage so that someone would at least acknowledge that it indeed existed at all.

The light was not above or below them, it all projected from a single point at eye height to the Dark Goddess. She never blinked or broke stride as she walked toward the absolute center of the rage that she felt with every breath she took.

A small climb up what was a hill, yet pliable, led her to the Source, to It, to all she craved.

A man sat there, an old and gnarled thing that looked like a tree root had bent over itself until it snapped under the pressure of it. He was gray and looked at her with eyes that matched the thunderstorm cloud color of his skin.

“Ah, Daughters Mine.”

Siobhan stilled her movements, and They cocked Their head to the side as the strange word moved and processed within their brain. His voice was sticky like over-pulled taffy, and it wormed its way to the center of Them, it made Their heart pound. It made Their eyes water, and their lips quiver.

They tried to move, and nothing would do as They wished. Their thoughts were Theirs, but everything else, from breathing to the gradually spreading of her arms that made Their minds shriek with rage and uselessness. All of their power slipped off of them like water down a hill. Not a single spark of anything could be produced. They could feel their lips parting in a smile that they did not feel, their feet moving forward with an eagerness that was not Theirs and most horribly, Their heart pounded for reasons that were not Theirs.

“You have been away long, Daughters Mine. I see that you are displeased with Me, and for that, I will not apologize for you are children, and temper tantrums are common and easily repaired.” He smiled that same smile as they felt themselves turning around and seeing all the work They had done, all of the Chaos made Flesh, all of it wiped away like sand under a wave and a normalcy that made Them scream internally came over the land and in moments, it was as if nothing had ever been done by the powerful Goddess of the Dark.

“No, no, you are not anything, so supreme Daughters, you are Mine, and from Me, do you draw everything that is you. Even this silly partnering you have done that is not what I have desired, so it is undone.” With simple words, Siobhan felt a tearing in all of Her mind and, in an instant, They were no more and what was her other half was gone.

He stood up, his gray skin a sad reflector of the brilliance of the light around him. “Now, Daughter Mine, you will need to be made anew, again.” A soft sigh escaped him, and then nothingness.

With What Does Mankind Compare Perfection Other Than That Which They Have Known Since Before They Knew Themselves?

Rivers of blood and bile ran at Siobhan’s feet as she walked past, it’s putrescence and vileness matched only by the ravishing beauty of the Dark Goddess. Even in this new form of They who Became She and She who became They. Her alabaster skin shone through the night of the dying world as a beacon to those who would dare look for something other than the horrors that they were witnessing.

Obsidian flaked the alabaster in the skin, not marring its beauty but glorifying it, intensifying it so that like a diamond the Dark Goddess reflected and refracted all the light in the world that was left off of Her. Her clothes were long abandoned, content for the world to see Her as she was, as she deserved to be seen and worshiped.

Her feet, constantly awash in the viscera running from Her beloved people, were clean from the filth even as she moved through it. Does the water of the ocean stay on the glass it washes up? Each drop of the vile liquid that touched Her refreshed Her mind and body and spirit turning They into what They were always supposed to be. A transformation that, like the flower blossoming, you could actually watch if you watched it with a meticulous eye for detail.

Eyes that dared travel upward from the base of the Goddess saw that in fact, she was perfect in all ways. Not fat or thin, large or small, curvy or angular, busty or flat. She was Siobhan, the Goddess of the Dark and where eyes fell upon Her they saw what their hearts desired the most. If they wanted busty and curvy, then they were given the epitome of it, same as with all things the Dark Goddess represented. There was a reason man had been carving statues of Her since the Venus of Willendorf 27,000 years before, and other ones that modern man had decided were nothing and left in trash heaps around the world that depicted the Dark Goddess as they saw Her, as they needed Her to be seen by others, as they prayed and worshiped, loved and dedicated their lives to Her.

Her eyes though, Her eyes had changed in this merging. Not the fiery amethyst purple of eons past, but sea-green so bright and vivid you would swear you could see the sunlight passing through the jade that made them. They were the source of Her spirit and power. No one, God or Man, would take Her control from Her again. Her eyes were the Creation and Damnation, the Alpha and the Omega, The End, or yes The End.

This was not the end of the world loves, where the Dark Goddess now trod were simply the foreword to the stories of creation that were to come and all the wonders of the paradise that man had yet to achieve, or perhaps been too terrified to imagine.

The Dragon approached, and all the world would shake with Her beauty and horror.