"You were carved from a flawed piece," Amaurodios said. "Cracked on the inside or something."

Seladion smiled sweetly. "You realize it's blasphemy for you to say so."

The Last Show (Sel & Am)

Adam craned for a look at the audience from the side of the stage. "They're there again."

Kyle followed his gaze. "They're just groupies."

"They get closer every show," said Adam.

"They've figured out how to get better tickets," Kyle said with a shrug. "Or they've saved their money or something."

Adam chewed the inside of his cheek. These two . . . He didn't even know if they were men or women, couldn't tell, but . . . They were like flip sides of a coin. One was fair, the other dark. Other than that, they were more or less identical. They had long hair and wore trench coats, which was weird, but fans wore all kinds of weird stuff.

"Maybe one of these days they'll get passes for a meet and greet," suggested Kyle. He laughed at Adam's stricken expression. "What? They don't look any more dangerous than anyone else."

"There's something . . ." But Adam had no way to articulate the feeling these two gave him. Dread? That was probably the most accurate word. He stepped back from the stage and turned to hole up until show time. Let security do their job.

_____________

"Tell me again why we keep doing this?" Seladion asked.

"Because it's fun?" Amaurodios answered.

"For whom?" Sel wondered. "We should get it over with. Should have gotten it over with the first time." He looked at Am from the corner of his eye. "You like them too much."

Am didn't answer. What would be the point? Sel was right. Instead he asked, "Why do you do this?"

"It's something to do."

"You like working for her."

"I like working against him," said Sel. "Anyway, I never asked you to follow me. Not to this wretched world, and not in this work either."

Am hung his head, and his long, dark hair fell around him. Every time it came into view, it reminded Am of his betrayal. He supposed that was why Durandios had singed him on the way down—a permanent rebuke. Sel, on the other hand, had retained his silver-white hair. He was as beautiful as ever, at least on the outside. Seladion's burnt pieces were all hidden from view.

"I suppose you want me to wait until the show is over," Sel said. "And don't think to ask for another abstention. I've already put it off too long."

Am wondered that Sel had ever granted his requests to wait in the first place. Could it be that Sel had a care for his feelings? Or maybe Sel simply enjoyed the music. "How does she choose?" he asked.

Sel gave him an odd look. "How should I know?"

But Amaurodios knew Seladion well enough to know it bothered him not to know the system. "You haven't tried to figure it out?"

Sel only shrugged. "You should buy a tee shirt if you're going to," was all he said.

____________

Was it the lights? The music? Am didn't know what continued to draw him. He couldn't relate it to Argyros, not exactly. Argyros was bright and full of music, true, but the emotion was different. Simple joy and pleasure filled Argyros. But the music in this world was dark and thick. Even when considered "happy" it was tainted by angst and fear and sorrow and loss.

It was the difference between vanilla and dark chocolate, Am decided. He liked both, but it surely depended on one's mood. And now he would never taste vanilla again.

"He's frightened." Sel's lips near his ear made Am jump. Am watched the lead singer—Adam his name was—do all the same kinds of dance moves he'd done the previous three times. But yes, there was something in the way Adam rolled his eyes and gritted his teeth that gave away an underlying anxiety.

"He's noticed us," Am realized as Adam's attention came to them time and again.

"We're just faces in a crowd," said Seladion.

"Yes, but we've been in the first few rows of the last three concerts," Am said. "And, you know, we don't look like most people."

Seladion glanced around. "So much the better."

"I'm only saying we're a bit conspicuous, even at one sighting," said Am.

"And whose fault is it we've made it four?" Sel asked. "Oh, don't give me that sad dog look. Come on, we need to do this." He began to move toward the aisle, never bothering to apologize to the mere mortals on whose feet he tread. Most people moved when they saw Seladion coming in any case.

"Before the encore?" Am called after him.

Sel's blue-silver eyes blazed and Am, apologizing profusely, obediently followed.

__________

Adam ducked backstage for a bottle of water and came face to face with the two tall, thin creatures from the second row. "You," he said dumbly.

"Me," said Seladion with a tight-lipped smile.

"Us, actually," Amaurodios amended and handed Adam a water from the ice chest.

"How did you . . .?" Adam glanced down the hall. Where was security?

"It's better not to ask," Am murmured.

"Okay, well, I—" Adam looked at the bottle he was holding, momentarily confused by how it had gotten there. He switched hands and shook the one that was wet with condensation. The roar of the crowd was becoming steadily louder, a thrum like a heartbeat picking up speed.

Seladion reached out one spindly hand toward Adam's forehead. Am could see Adam's desire to take a step backward, but he didn't. He couldn't. He was rooted to the spot. The most he could do was lean back slightly away from the oncoming palm.

"I'll make it quick," said Sel. "Consider it a small blessing."

He is incapable of blessing anyone or anything, Am thought. He is damned. We both are. He looked at Adam, his fear and confusion evident in his eyes.

"Stop," Am said.

Seladion did not lower his hand, but he did look at Am over his shoulder. "What is it?" he snapped.

"This will damn him."

"Look, it doesn't matter what she does with them."

"But maybe it does," said Amaurodios. "What does she do with them?"

"I don't know. I've never asked," Sel said through clenched teeth.

"Let him go," Am begged.

Seladion did drop his arm then, and Adam stumbled a couple paces back. "Really, Am, this is too much. Why would you risk her wrath for him?"

Am looked at the singer. "Go," he mouthed and flapped a hand. Adam needed no other prompting; he turned and hied back to the stage.

Sel sighed. "Now I'm going to have to go get him."

"Don't," said Am.

The music began anew, and Am silently admired Adam's ability to throw himself into it after everything that had just happened.

"You'll have to at least wait 'til they're done now," said Am. "But I'm hoping you'll reconsider."

"And what will I tell her?" Seladion asked. "'Oh, but Am really likes him'? Or were you planning to take his place?"

"I would," said Amaurodios softly. "I'd take all their places if I could."

"You should have stayed in Argyros," said Sel. "Anyway, she has no use for you."

"She has no use for him either!" Am cried.

"They can't live forever, Am."

Amaurodios looked up, surprised by the gentleness of Seladion's tone.

"Go on. You don't need to be here to see it," Sel said.

Tears filled Am's eyes. He turned to go. Stopped. "You'll make it painless?"

"It's never painless," Seladion told him. "But I'll make it as quick as I can."

The Adventures of Sel & Am

A long time ago I started this . . . It was meant to be a novel based on my world of AElit and featuring two ninatat (angel-like creatures) named Seladion and Amaurodios. I'd like to get back to it, finish it. I'd actually more pictured it as a graphic novel in the manga style, but—and I've tried, even taken classes—I can't draw. It's all words for me.

Here, then, is the first part of Sel & Am's story, "The Downfall":

The burst of darkness disoriented him. Argyros was a bright place of shining silver and constant light that bounced off every surface to create a gray-white sky that never faded. But here, suddenly, was the nothingness that existed outside the sacred space.

            He’d never been outside before.

            The blue orb of the world floated below him. He was familiar with Durandios’ work, with the life on the planet, although he’d never before had any use for the animals that inhabited it. Well, he determined, he wouldn’t have use for them now either. They were the whole reason he was in trouble to begin with.

            Just as he’d become accustomed to the chilling darkness, he felt the light and heat begin to increase rapidly. He gritted his teeth and prepared for what was sure to be a hard landing.

Long after the others had lost interest and turned away, gone back to their duties, Amaurodios still stood at the edge of Argyros.

            “I don’t know what you’re hoping to see,” a voice behind him said.

            Amaurodios didn’t even have to turn around to know who it was; he threw himself on his knees so quickly his forehead smacked hard against the slick silver ground. But because it was Argyros, there was no pain.

            “Get up, Am,” said Durandios.

            Am scrambled to his feet, flailing to keep his balance on the slippery foundation. It didn’t help that he seemed to be the one Ninata that lacked any kind of natural grace.

            Keeping his head bowed so that the masses of his long, silver-white hair curtained his face, Amaurodios turned towards the Enduring. Durandios was the one colorful creature in all of Argyros, a flower in a crystal room. He wore a white cloak that was held on his left shoulder with a vivid red jewel, giving everything around him a rosy tint. He had skin the color of the human creatures he had given life to on the world below them, the world that Seladion now also occupied.

            “Are you crying?” The question was not soft-spoken, but neither was it a rebuke. Perhaps surprise was the force behind the words.

            Amaurodios looked up in confusion. “Crying?” he echoed.

            But Durandios was nodding. “You are.” His expression was grim. “That kind of emotion cannot be tolerated in Argyros.”

Am still wasn’t entirely sure what Durandios meant, but he understood emotion. The Ninatat had access to a limited number of them. Love and joy were favorites, along with compassion and mercy. But Seladion had been cast out for harboring the kinds of feelings unsuitable in a Ninata. And now. . .

Another new emotion lit Amaurodios’ eyes. Fear. “Are you going to. . . ?”

Durandios shook his head. “No.” He sighed. “I wish you never had to know heartbreak, Am. Most of the others,” he gestured towards the center of Argyros, where the Ninatat spent their days praising Tithendion and Durandios and where a select few served special purposes, such as taking messages to the people of the world below, “will never know such a feeling. They will love forever without that love being taken from them. I wish it could be that way for you.”

Amaurodios knew that Durandios was incapable of lying. So he asked the question. “He can’t ever come back, can he?”

“He was tainted, Am. He was imperfect, flawed in some way.” Durandios’ green eyes darkened a shade, and he frowned. Such an unlovely sight on a god. The stone that clasped his cloak became the red-purple color of dark wine.

“Not was,” Amaurodios whispered. “You could fix him, couldn’t you?”

“You think I didn’t want to? Of course I did! I do! But that’s not for me to do. Tithendion made him; I only gave him breath.”

Amaurodios looked over his shoulder, out at the darkness beyond Argyros. A whole vast universe existed out there, none of it seemingly safe for orphaned Ninatat. “I want to go too.”

Without looking, Am sensed the complete stillness in the god that stood before him, a dangerous tension. There was a long exhalation of the precious breath Durandios provided to all living things.

“Amaurodios, look at me.”

Am slowly turned his head. Durandios could not kill him, it was not in his nature, but Amaurodios was frightened all the same.

Durandios placed his hands on Amaurodios’ shoulders and looked the Ninata in the eye.
“You haven’t thought this through,” the god said carefully.

“I want to be with Seladion. He needs me! He won’t know how to cope, being down there—”

Durandios chuckled. “Seladion has never needed anyone, and you know it. And how is it that you think you’ll be able to cope? No, Am, you’re much better off here. I promise you, the pain of his leaving won’t last forever.” He turned to go.

“I’m flawed too, aren’t I, now?” Amaurodios called as a parting shot.

Durandios whirled around as the Vital Spark began to darken to near black. “Amaurodios, do not test me.”

“But you said that this—this—whatever it is I’m feeling, it can’t be tolerated in Argyros.”

“You’ll get over it and everything will be fine,” Durandios replied tightly.

A couple of yards away, other Ninatat had begun to gather. It was no secret that Amaurodios was Durandios’ favorite, even if the god was not free to show such preference. The only being that seemed not to know this was Amaurodios.

“I don’t want to feel this way; I don’t like it,” Am said rather childishly.

“I know.” Durandios started towards the Ninata. “But it will pass.”

Amaurodios shook his head. “I don’t think it will.”

“It seems that way now, but—Am, what are you doing?”

The Ninata had turned back toward the wall of Argyros and was now exploring it with his long, thin hands, testing it for weakness. He pushed at it, willing it to break, but it was elastic, moving always to enclose him.

In three steps Durandios had reached him and pulled him back. “What are you doing?” he asked again, giving Am a shake. The watching Ninatat gasped softly; it sounded like a flock of pigeons cooing.

“Let me out!”

“No.”

As the hand on his shoulder tightened, Amaurodios slumped in defeat. “Please,” he said, “let me go.”

The grip on him relaxed, and suddenly all he knew was darkness.

The Summons

Seladion was a chief character in my mythology for AElit, which was a world I created first in Parageography (under the late Dr. Douglass Parker) and later expounded upon as part of my graduate thesis. He is an angel-like creature known as a Ninata and, rather like Lucifer, had been cast out of the holy realm of Argyros. His companion was Amaurodios, who voluntarily left Argyros to be with Seladion. Amaurodios doesn't figure in this little scene, but together they had many adventures until they fell out and parted ways.

***

The man who answered the door had longish hair of a pale shade that didn’t quite seem blond . . . In fact, it appeared almost silver in the glinting of the sun that came over the roof of the cottage, striking the man from behind, giving him a sort of glow.

He was tall, and he was thin, dressed casually in a slightly wrinkled, white button-down shirt and jeans that slouched a bit on his finely boned frame. His eyes were a clear, light blue-gray color that seemed to strike her own gaze even more hotly than the sunlight, and confused, she dropped her eyes. When she looked down, she saw his feet were bare.

“Yes?” His voice was low, lower than she’d expected it to be given his almost feminine mold.

“You are . . .?” Her voice broke. She wasn’t sure she could say it now, to his face. She felt sorry for him.

But then his fair brows snapped forward, and his serene look was made dark and severe, and she could see into him suddenly, could see the blackness at the heart of him, and her sympathy fled.

Her voice strong now, and clear, she said, “You are Seladion.”

He drew himself up then, and only at that moment did she realize he’d been somewhat hunched around the shoulders when he first answered the door. Tall people did that sometimes, she reflected in that split second of mind spinning—tall people got into the habit of slumping themselves over so as not to stand out so much.

And Seladion surely knew the risks of standing out.

But now he was at full height, and she realized that he wasn’t blond, no, of course he wouldn’t be. His hair was silver-white, as all Ninatat’s hair was, and she felt a pang at knowing it would have once been so much longer, that he must have cut it off . . . And Ninata hair did not grow back, for they were as they were carved by Durandios. Except, of course, when they’d been tossed to Earth as this one had been, given something like a human body, and so . . . So Seladion had cut his hair.

“And you are?” Seladion asked.

“Beth,” she told him, then summoned the breath for her big finish: “They’ve sent me to bring you home.”