Chapter 41

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Chapter 41

       "Immortals were never meant to walk this world. We had our own, designed solely for our needs. It changed as we did, conformed to what we wanted, what we craved. The perfect inhabitance for beings who can never age, never die.

       When the mortals were first created they too sought home in the Heavens, but the realm was too eternal for them—always changing. Mortals do not change. At times they could live for thousands of years alongside us. In others, they would die in a blink of an eye. The eternal Kingdom holds secrets far older than I, and it rejects all not born from its creation.

       Axion feared for the mortal's survival. Though created by eternal souls, their shells were nothing more than weak skins. The Heavens were no place for the sub-species. No immortal that I am aware of disapproved of the Great God's decision to create this world. We had liked the mortals. In a place of eternal time and never-ending change, they entertained us. To be rid of them would end our enjoyment.

       We could watch them from our home. Watch how they lived, thrived, created friendships and love. For most it was fascinating, to see a species formed purely out of boredom evolve on their own in a planet they could successfully live a life time then die and move on.

       But this world was built for mortals just as the Heaven's formed for us. It is for them. We were never meant to stay here long. Many visited as I have done, walking with their own creations they had added to the realm—but we always returned.

       We require change, constant, unyielding change to redirect our thoughts and minds. Without it we grow numb, ignorant... forgetful. Although the time here moves, wardrobes adapt, and mortals grow more intelligent, their world does not change. The seasons come and go in the same succession, night becomes day, rulers rise and fade, and the differences between the mortal's view on good and evil do not. It is maddening.

       To repeat the same thing over and over, to watch the world replay in the same chaotic way for hundreds of years is horrendous. Regardless of whether they want to or not, any immortal spent too long in this realm—quite literally—loses their mind.

       We cannot grow old, we cannot die... no matter how hard we try. So we forget. Forget to deal with the never-ending repetition. It is not a deliberate choice to make, it is forced upon. We are beings of change, it allows our minds to continue thinking—without it we are numb.

       It begins with home. The Heaven's, its iridescent landscapes, the palace, my moon... it all faded away. I held onto it as long as I could, but no matter how dearly I missed my eternal shelter, I hated the place. The light had fled from it, the thing that made eternity enjoyable had been cast away. The Heavens betrayed me. It was easy to forget it. Who I was left a lot harder.

       I had always been proud, too much for my own good. It bothered you at times. You would roll your eyes and say there was pride then there was ego, and I could never tell the difference. You were right, but like the rest of my kind I was arrogant, and I didn't care. I was my father's favorite, I had the moon, and I had you. Nothing could have deterred me.

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