Many years ago…
The sun poured through the foliage that crowned the trees, dapples of bright light marking each of his steps, tracing his skin in divine remembrance.
Evîn looked up, peering through the gaps at the sky, and smiled.
There was a peace that came after carnage. There was something to be said for that moment of silence imbued into the weaving of the winds and the hush of the clouds making way for the sun.
Illéa hadn't known that peace for a long time.
nieba was bleeding, her gold-stained hands matching the gold glow of her eyes,
her wings were torn, feathers fraying,
as she held up her hands, and light emitted from them,
ixtilaf was seething as his shadows grew and crafted a spear,
it grazed the storm-bird that rained down fire and water,
taniyn soared through the sky, her fire burning copper against the blue-tinged flames of the demon bird,
and caidil stopped the descent of another hail of fire before it reached nieba,
itri screamed as they all lamented their creation,
their divinity, that hadn't vanquished their opposites,
as zilar's armor shifted, and a piece dislodged itself to aim at the storm-bird's throat
It had been a fortnight since the gods had saved Abalus from the demon Anzû, and Evîn could no longer wait. He had to see his beloved.
The string of red poppy's swayed along his wooden staff as he moved deeper into the forest. There, in the heart of it, nestled amongst the bones of trees as the beating organ at its centre, she would await him.
He smiled at the memory of her voice, calling out to him when he made her wait too long. He still remembered the look on her face when he'd allowed her to peer past his mortal mask, when the antlers were no longer hidden, when the green markings grew along his skin.
That whispered word had haunted him ever since. Beautiful.
They had been warned not to love a mortal.
They had been warned, and not all of them had heeded —
When Taniyn had lost her mortal queen, her wails had stirred the sea and crumbled mountains.
Perhaps they were more foolish than the humans thought, because he loved her.
He loved her when he felt the storm-bird's frail, decaying heartbeat under his fingers, and he wondered why it was that they were given this. He loved her when he gazed upon the ruined villages Anzû had left in its wake, and the prayers of the humans were a cadence in his ear, constantly thrumming, growing like so many flowers.
He loved her even when he stepped onto the clearing, and his smile momentarily slipped. Devastation had been wrought upon the meadow. It curled into the grass with the malice of Ixtilaf's touch, burnt ash a cloud of misery. Evîn bent down to one knee, a god delivering prayer to nature, and held his hand down.
He watched as nature stirred underneath his fingers, sparks of colour bursting through.
''I'll never cease to be amazed by you.''
Her voice was the lilting tune of a song sung by lovers. It was the song written by a bard who had been struck by Taniyn's arrow, who let the colours of his emotions pour into words. Evîn smiled as he stood, and turned to face Azah.
''And I you.'' He rushed to stand by her side, holding her hand as he guided her to a fallen tree stump for her to sit on. Azah's breathing was laboured, strands of her lovely fawn-coloured hair escaping the braid that hung down her back. ''You should have let me come to you.''
''And risk the questions everyone will ask? No, I already feel their gazes burning whenever they see me leave the house.'' Her tone carried her aggravation, a hand resting on her swollen stomach. She furrowed her brows. ''I thought the people of Suddene were supposed to be more forgiving.''
Evîn laughed, unable to keep his amusement locked away. ''Oh, I could tell you stories about the Suddeni, my heart. Humans are complicated, which is why I have always enjoyed coming down to mingle amongst you.'' He smiled, his gaze on the sky again. ''There's a profound love in everything you do. And I know you'll disagree — '' His eyes, vivid and glowing, flickered to her frowning face. ''But I will argue this until the end of my days. There is a path humans walk in every action and reaction. The beginning is the root of it all, the place where it all starts.''
He leaned in, the tip of his nose touching Azah's. Through her exhaustion, she smiled, though not without first rolling her brown eyes. ''Love?''
Evîn's hand drifted down to her stomach, where it rested. He could sense the life growing inside her, how it called to him with its sparks of divinity. How could he not believe in that answer when it was so imbued into all that he saw?
''Exactly.''
Azah's head was heavy on his shoulder, and she curled into his side as if she found safety in his warmth. He thought of the storm-bird, and his grip on her tightened. ''If you hadn't been a god, you would make an excellent philosopher. The Suddeni would worship you.'' She paused, as if the realization had only just dawned on her. The sound of her laughter was as beautiful as the dawning sun. ''Though, I suppose, they already do.''
And though he wished he could stay there with her for the rest of his eternity, Azah in his arms and the rustling of wind through grass their serenade, the animals of the forest their companions, he couldn't. When night fell and the moon was a silver sickle in the sky, her tip pointed like the gleaming glint of a dagger's tip, Evîn leaned in, and kissed his beloved.
''You can't stay?'' Azah asked, eyes streaked with a strange sorrow.
''Nieba asked to see me to discuss an important matter. But do not fret.'' He smiled, and cupped her cheek in his hand. ''I will be here when the baby comes. I won't leave your side.''
And though a feeling of unease gripped his heart as he let go of her and left the meadow, Evîn ignored it. He looked back at his beloved one last time, and when he knocked his staff on the ground, he was in Limuria, where Nieba awaited him.