Astaroth

Swimming eternally through space is boring if breathtaking experience. No wind under your wings, no sound to carry your call.

It's lonely.

Only a small frog like pair of creatures that you did not eat yet keeps you company but it's so tiny that you sometimes do not see them for days, little Mistchief makers racing along your long body, hiding behind your limbs, toying in the fur along your spine, sliding over your wing in a rush of excitement.

They sometimes come closer to your eye, keep to your cheek mindful of your teeth nearby. Their sheningans are amusing. One is green the other pink, they compliment your glossy goldish blue scales nicely. You think they are a mated pair.

You feel so lonely.

The darkness is vast and full of stars.

Stars that are sliding, gliding.

You would hold your breath if such exclusivity as breathing was possible in the first place. You stop propelling yourself, wary of this change in schedule. You look closely, your keen eyesight barely spearing the blackness. You see a glint of color.

Your heart thumbs in a rhythm you did not felt in eons. It's so familiar, so indescribable yet unmistakable. The other of your kind slides from the sky, ever closer, coiling around itself, hesitant yet curious. You keep yourself still, as they are inching towards you. You both measure yourselves up, the meeting wholly unexpected.

Her wings flare, for its is unmistakably a she, and yours show off in return. They are as black as yours but so full of stars in its own right. It's not a challenge. In tandem you move around each other, sliding close, coiling around the other, a dance of greeting and getting to know one another.

After the dozens of minutes, you continue on your way, swimming through the endless stars sprinkled in nothingness. Except now the path you both take is one and the same.

After that the space is less empty and not lonely at all.


[companion piece to this story is under Belial]