Issue 2: Summer or Purifying Flame
Prelude Soul Poem
-))()((-
Young Yet Mighty Trees Tower Above
The Twin of Time and Edward
as they hold hands
and look out from atop
a mountain at an incredible scene.
()
The bark of the young yet mighty trees
is covered in glowing moss that casts
a soft light that competes
with the
(for now)
dim far away beams.
()
The ground below them
{but not under their feet}
is blanketed in tall grasses and sparkling flowers
glowing in a spectrum of pastel colors.
A crystal clear stream winds through the forest under them,
its water drenched with flecks of silver and purple agate.
()
Idyllic,
except
()
from a thousand miles away, they watch
the beginning of its total burning annihilation
standing atop
a massive shimmering amethyst boulder.
()
As they look,
the natural opulence of this dying planet
faintly reminds Edward of his own human garishness,
his former pride and vanity
now being the least of his sins.
Even the flames here are jewel-hued,
a would be fitting hell for that version of him.
()
His own state of being
is difficult to decide,
being with Bella is a paradoxical paradise.
Even now,
his throat is a low grade fever.
He still suffers
constantly
varying intensities of
pointed agony.
()
It's been two centuries since
Edward's isolation
has come to an end.
()
The cosmic couple have done nothing but
canoodle, fuck, and make love
with that time living as vampires
hidden in his ancient forest
to experience
nothing
but the
joy and healing
of their sacred union.
()
So now,
The Twin of Time
is to take him with her
across all the nonsensical pockets of space,
and some of time,
so he may grow into
his role,
a confidant,
her true partner.
()
Still in the most nascent
state of their union,
neither of them understanding
what will be
their shared duties,
she is incrementally introducing
him into her fathomless existence,
and she will continue to do so for a little over
an epoch and eon,
a time for most any other creature,
senseless.
()
She is currently explaining
what is next
for each soul
that will burn to its
body-death
on this planet.
There are so
many
uses
fates
and
wonders
to behold.
-))()((-
Edward,
growing ever
uncomfortable with his devastating secret,
fully expecting her total abandonment for his worthlessness,
finally voices the knowledge he has kept hidden
for the past two centuries in her divine company,
()
"Bella, I…do not possess a soul."
()
The Twin of Time,
squeezes his hand,
her hidden-only-her-heart pained,
and gently explains,
"That's not true."
()
He insists,
serious,
with no room for debate,
"I mean it when I say this."
()
Even with all of the surreal magic he has seen,
he has yet to even witness a
glimpse
of the scope of her experiences and powers.
()
Though a difficult discovery,
he knows she chose him,
but he doesn't understand
why or by what means.
()
Her patience with him is extraordinary,
she has waited
and
there are
many times
she is
~still waiting~
such a long time
to love him.
()
So him speaking such disgusting vile untruths?
The soul she chose above all others to deny his?
She is surprised how different than her previous cognition it feels to
experience this moment.
She decides now is not the time to be gentle.
With tears of emerald in her eyes,
she thrusts her glow-lit hand inside Edward's chest,
slipping past his stone flesh and bone with no resistance
and grabs his knotted bruised luminescent oil slick soul,
its tendrils wrapping around her fingers,
pulsating as she yanks it out from its dimension in one
brutal swift motion.
()
Edward lurches forward with his soul as she tugs
and grips it in front of his shocked and tortured face.
He feels the pull from his very center,
he didn't know he went so deep.
It is the most painful experience of his life,
all five days of vampiric transformation into one forceful action.
()
He vomits blood and soul sludge,
the fluid glistening like
dark jewels in the dim light
all over her arm and face,
and his very real soul.
()
Severe and sorrowful, she says,
()
"There's your beautiful, broken soul that I chose,
don't you ever speak of not having one again.
You put it back where it belongs and get intimate with it.
That should get you acquainted.
I won't help you with it.
Come find me when you're finished."
()
She turns around,
emeralds tears drip down her face.
He falls to his knees as she walks away
and takes in deep shuddering gasping breaths.
His hands claw at the amethyst,
carving his pain into it,
as he coughs up more blood and chunks of soul sludge.
()
Once he can process the agony he just went through
he looks down to his soul that hangs from his sternum.
()
It shimmers in pulsing rainbow flickers,
its oil slick swirling tendrils are bruised and knotted.
He has a soul.
It's so ugly and damaged.
But there it is.
()
A bruised oil slick tendril unties a knot.
()
He stares awhile just trying to take this in as
the rising and nearing
jewel-hued flames reflected within his amber gaze shimmer and dance.
-))()((-
A/N: Welcome to the second issue of The Ever-Ringing Bell.
formatting was weird with this upload and wouldn't let me have stanzas so I got a little creative with it...