Mated to Morpheus

MTM.48

it is too late

A hiss was biting at my lips. Anxiously.

The sting was nibbling at my memory—it was willfully playing with my instincts and itching away at my extrinsic characteristic. And, for just a moment, it was peaceful. The material underneath my body palmed into my hand, like sand, with an urge to burn and crumble at a stranger's touch.

My head was pounding.

There was an unusual film that seemed to coat the entirety of my mind. The feeling was familiar yet inconsistent—much like an ocean, comforting and disturbing alike, that was desperately trying to pull me away. And, eagerly back in.

My eyes flickered open with an unsteady quiver.

"My children often forget that I was the one who raised them." A voice resonated throughout the space, hinting that the area was empty and small. I did not allow my attention to deviate from the woman—the goddess—that was in front of me. Though, it was apparent that the room was dull. "Alone."

There was a sheen of luster that varnished her side profile. Her lips were thick with expression. She continued, "There was no village to raise mine."

I inhaled a deep breath of air. The room was clear, except for the muggy tinge of arcane. An opposite feature to her was that my voice appeared to be restrained, which was beyond unsettling. Though, it was unknown if it was stolen by her, or even myself. Despite having no explanation, she happily fed off my silence.

"They were not particularly fond of villages, anyway, and much of the villagers were far too ignorant to anything unlike themselves." The goddess loudly flicked her tongue, clicking against her central incisors. "That is our shared mistake—the personalities of the humans. My divine relations, they, too, are at fault. We had created them together, each one of us taking turns to forge and mould the concept of humanity. My children, however, they are my responsibility. Mine, and mine, alone. That is the way of both the mortal and immortal world, and everything in-between."

Unfortunately, she was getting full, and fast. Her hand reached out to grab my face, maneuvering her thumb and pointer finger to hold my chin in a tight grasp. There was a low hum that rumbled beneath her words. "I was under the impression that you had a bigger mouth."

There were letters assembling. There were words forming. There were sentences arranging. Yet, they would not escape the cage of my mouth—the same as I would not be able to escape the confinement of this particular goddess. I kept quiet.

She let out a distinctive 'tsk' that crunched beneath her sharp teeth. My chin was quickly freed from her warm clutch, but the action erupted a cold shiver. "It has been a long time since I last experienced silence. There has always been whispers, accusations, and questions surrounding me—about my children. They manage to follow me in spite of adding distance and travelling through various populations. It is unbearable. There has never been a time that I could truly speak, but I feel my voice would be endless if ever given the chance. I could talk about all of my children with honesty and praise. I could talk about them for eternity. But, I loathe the mention of them."

"Áine." The light of her face suddenly radiated against the repetitive darkness of the room. She perked up instantly. The very mention of her name and title, and the respect that came with it, was minor to me at that time. The meaning was foreign in my eyes, simple, yet it meant a great deal to her. I finished, "The Goddess of the Sun."