For the damned | ✓

28

CENTURIES AGO - PT I

SHE DIDN'T REMEMBER HER youth, but she remembered being lonely. It was a haunting feeling, one which settled in your bones, as she sat every day in a tower of light with no one around. The woman who called herself her mother came by every now and then, sinking to her knees in front of her as she looked at her like she was the only thing worth living in this world. When she left her all alone again on the clouds, with nothing around save her thoughts and the sky, it always felt like she was going to go crazy soon.

"You have to stay here, my delicate flower," her mother whispered, cupping her cheeks in her hands," everywhere is so full of terror, I just want you to stay safe."

"Mother," she replied, a slight pleading note to her voice," can't I go along with you once? Please."

The woman didn't even hesitate, shaking her head firmly as her grip on her tightened. "No, Delilah," she said, the translation of her name feeling like a chain around her throat," I can't protect you if you're out of my sight."

Delicate. She didn't feel so delicate when she waved her hand and the sky split open, when just a single look of hers was enough to evaporate the clouds underneath her tower. There was nothing soft or gentle about the power tingling underneath her fingertips, but she simply stayed quiet and nodded, because she did love her mother, even if the hypocrisy of her words was sour on her tongue.

She had to stay safe, but why didn't her mother? Why did she go and leave her all alone if she wanted to protect her so badly? Delilah knew they were divinity itself even before she knew her name, but that only made the flaws her mother carried sharper, like a blade running across her heart. Oh, she was bored, so terribly bored. Immortality felt like a curse when every day was the same.

It was colder than usual when she walked outside, the spiraling staircase in the tower one she had gotten sick of long ago. Jewels her mother collected for her had been strung everywhere around the grey bricks, glittering in the starlight. It was the only time of day which existed here, because her mother wanted to hide her away from any prying eyes. The orange glow from the tower sometimes felt eery instead of warm.

Her opal-colored dress flowed behind her, jewelry tinkling in the vast silence as she went for her usual walk. She was supposed to be a century old today, her mother had said a couple of days ago, so she'd come by at night. It didn't matter that much to Delilah. Even if those visits had been the only highlights in her life a while ago, now they simply seemed like suffocating check-ups.

The clouds were dusted with the same navy blue which had drowned the sky, but Delilah despised the color. With a wave of her hand she changed it into a silvery gray, making a mental note to turn everything back to how it was before her mother came. She never liked it when Delilah used her powers, because it was unsafe. That didn't mean Delilah listened though.

"How did you do that?"

Her head snapped towards the voice, almost losing her footing at the unexpected visitor. There, sitting on the clouds cross-legged, was a guy in oversized robes, eyes swirling with silver-blue nebulae and curiosity coloring his innocent face. She could sense his power before she could even guess his age, the scent of death coming from him not suiting him at all.

"Who are you?" she said, stepping forward," how did you get in here?"

"I don't know how I got here," he confessed, looking around," I was practicing using my powers all-out, next thing I know I'm sitting here." His gaze flicked towards her then, suddenly filled with worry. "I didn't scare you, did I? I'm sorry if I did."

"You didn't," Delilah replied, kneeling down in front of him, voice curious," you haven't answered my first question though."

He seemed a bit nervous at how close she was, words leaving his lips in a slight stammer when he spoke again.