Watching the two suffer was a spectacle within itself. Faith was in physical pain - a testament to the true power that Aelig had. To watch her moan and whine through the best part of a break, clutching her torso, the Immortal was glad for all those arcs he had spent in isolation, honing his craft and truly understanding the breadth of his gifts.
The Immortal found himself momentarily disappointed at the poor effect of his illusion. Faith had reacted violently, but Padraig had seen right through it, barely batting an eyelid as the illusion shimmered and evaporated in front of their eyes, the glass soaring straight through it and colliding with the wall, shattering into a thousand pieces.. He wondered if they would be surprised at anything now… or had they even begun to question their own reality?
Aelig knew in that moment, how aware the pair were that they were being watched. They might even have assumed that he was never too far away from them. They wouldn’t have been wrong.
It had been nice, Aelig thought as he watched the trio battle through the labour, to have a voice. Through all of this, he had enjoyed the attention, and the fear, that Padraig and Faith had given him. Mortals and Immortals alike had always been weary of the faceless man, at best. Centuries of making himself heard the only way he knew how to had culminated in one pathetic, worthless little slave-girl and her equally worthless lover finally giving him the consideration he had always deserved.
An experiment, of sorts, he was thrilled that Vri too had been fooled by his masterful illusion of life, or so he assumed. With layers upon layers of deception, Audrae would most definitely be proud of his elaborate creation.
But, oh, how strong their love was. Aelig had learnt much of the mortal psyche from the pair. That information had been stored, because he had also discovered how much he enjoyed having a voice. He could not garner the attention from his kin in more natural ways but, above all else, he had learnt that he could use the mortals as puppets as mouthpieces; they would relay his messages to the world forevermore.
The time had come. Faith had been given her last instruction to push, with the promise that it would soon be over. As the girl did so, the Immortal shook a little with laughter, and he leant forward in his chair, clasping his hands together as he prepared for this delightful end to his interference in the lives of these two mortals.
The final push, punctuated by a choked sound escaping the lips of the soon-to-be-mother, was accompanied by an ominous shadow casting itself over the room, as if dusk had fallen early. They already knew he was present, and Aelig was nothing if not dramatic. The shadow was glittering perilously; there was nothing natural about it, and it moved with a liquid elegance that was both graceful and deadly.
The final push saw a child in the arms of the ithecal, a cry echoing throughout the room. Stained in brown and red mucous, the ithecal, unprepared for the presence and effect of the Immortal quickly scrubbed the crying infant clean of the worst of it and hurried to hand the swaddled babe to the new mother.
Aelig stood, still unseen by the mortals, and left the room undetected. He had no interest in the flurry of emotions to follow. As he passed through the door, the aura finally receded. He had to check on the progress of the Immortal of Transformation and Lust, who had her own part to play.
The instant the towel touched the expectant arms of the harshly breathing mother, the load grew lighter. The towel retained its shape, as if something was still resting inside it, but all Faith and Padraig would see was a swirling mist, much like the aura which had engulfed the room. It remained for only a few seconds before fading lighter and then, finally disappearing. A final wail, as if the newborn were still present, echoed through the room before everything fell silent. When Faith examined her own body, there would be no residual pain, nor marks from the stretching of her stomach. There would be no blood on the bed, nor would her clothes be damp from entering labour. Her breasts would not lactate, nor would they sit firmly, as if full of milk. To all, it would be as if the baby had never existed.
Because it never had.
The Immortal found himself momentarily disappointed at the poor effect of his illusion. Faith had reacted violently, but Padraig had seen right through it, barely batting an eyelid as the illusion shimmered and evaporated in front of their eyes, the glass soaring straight through it and colliding with the wall, shattering into a thousand pieces.. He wondered if they would be surprised at anything now… or had they even begun to question their own reality?
Aelig knew in that moment, how aware the pair were that they were being watched. They might even have assumed that he was never too far away from them. They wouldn’t have been wrong.
It had been nice, Aelig thought as he watched the trio battle through the labour, to have a voice. Through all of this, he had enjoyed the attention, and the fear, that Padraig and Faith had given him. Mortals and Immortals alike had always been weary of the faceless man, at best. Centuries of making himself heard the only way he knew how to had culminated in one pathetic, worthless little slave-girl and her equally worthless lover finally giving him the consideration he had always deserved.
An experiment, of sorts, he was thrilled that Vri too had been fooled by his masterful illusion of life, or so he assumed. With layers upon layers of deception, Audrae would most definitely be proud of his elaborate creation.
But, oh, how strong their love was. Aelig had learnt much of the mortal psyche from the pair. That information had been stored, because he had also discovered how much he enjoyed having a voice. He could not garner the attention from his kin in more natural ways but, above all else, he had learnt that he could use the mortals as puppets as mouthpieces; they would relay his messages to the world forevermore.
The time had come. Faith had been given her last instruction to push, with the promise that it would soon be over. As the girl did so, the Immortal shook a little with laughter, and he leant forward in his chair, clasping his hands together as he prepared for this delightful end to his interference in the lives of these two mortals.
The final push, punctuated by a choked sound escaping the lips of the soon-to-be-mother, was accompanied by an ominous shadow casting itself over the room, as if dusk had fallen early. They already knew he was present, and Aelig was nothing if not dramatic. The shadow was glittering perilously; there was nothing natural about it, and it moved with a liquid elegance that was both graceful and deadly.
The final push saw a child in the arms of the ithecal, a cry echoing throughout the room. Stained in brown and red mucous, the ithecal, unprepared for the presence and effect of the Immortal quickly scrubbed the crying infant clean of the worst of it and hurried to hand the swaddled babe to the new mother.
Aelig stood, still unseen by the mortals, and left the room undetected. He had no interest in the flurry of emotions to follow. As he passed through the door, the aura finally receded. He had to check on the progress of the Immortal of Transformation and Lust, who had her own part to play.
The instant the towel touched the expectant arms of the harshly breathing mother, the load grew lighter. The towel retained its shape, as if something was still resting inside it, but all Faith and Padraig would see was a swirling mist, much like the aura which had engulfed the room. It remained for only a few seconds before fading lighter and then, finally disappearing. A final wail, as if the newborn were still present, echoed through the room before everything fell silent. When Faith examined her own body, there would be no residual pain, nor marks from the stretching of her stomach. There would be no blood on the bed, nor would her clothes be damp from entering labour. Her breasts would not lactate, nor would they sit firmly, as if full of milk. To all, it would be as if the baby had never existed.
Because it never had.
