PART 13: The Man Who Had Everything and The Woman With No Art
The Man Who Had Everything laughed exultant and raised his hands to watch the flickers of fitful fire lighting his fingertips.
"Desire...Oh Mia! Desire! Have you been so long alive that your senses are dead?"
"No Michael, I have bled out my heart on a hundred true loves, watched children age and die before my eyes. I am as alive to love and pain as I ever was; and the only true hunger that survives and sustains is the need to see mirrored in another soul that very precious spark, and to hold in your arms someone from whom you can at least dream nothing in this life can part."
"Love? You have such power and you dream of love."
The Woman With No Art tilted her head in that odd feline cant: "Go out Michael and seek the truth. Or rather, go in. Go into yourself now. Tell me why you who had everything were so unsatisfied."
"Because...That's easy! Because..." The Man Who Had Everything stopped. "I cannot remember why. I just know whatever I did get did not satisfy."
"Look at me...Look. I am in myself the greatest mystery you will ever see. And do you know why?"
"You are Fae, immortal, magical."
Mia laughed softly and moved closer, placing a gentle hand over his chest.
"Nay Michael...none of that. Simply, I am the woman who will love you so completely that you will never survive without me. I am the woman who will take your soul apart, and devour your heart."
She moved closer and there was nothing in the world but the dizzy scent of her perfume, her lips, her eyes. Mesmerised the Man Who Had Everything watched her move closer; felt the first burning touch of her mouth, sweet and gentle as a child's. Oh such a kiss he'd not had since he was twelve and had kissed Betty Larsten behind the chapel after Sunday School Class. Her mouth...There was nothing left in the world but her mouth, and the Man who had Everything lost himself in that kiss; in that one kiss.
And in that moment was his heart set alight: a conflagration of such passion, such desire; that his new magical flesh caught fire. The woman clasped him closer, his flaming frame clutched to her flesh; absorbing him, devouring each spark, leaving to the very end his incandescent heart.
It ended, as do all such feasts, with a nostalgic sigh.
The woman licked one last flicker of passion from her forefinger and smiled. "Sweet Michael, such a flame! So bright! Oh I will love you so very, very much; such a perfect complete love: from me you will never, ever part."
Somewhere in her spasmed an ache like a distant memory; something that had once been a man aware of himself.
The Woman With No Heart smiled: "Hush now, Michael, be at ease.This eager unsatisfied heart of yours will last me a long, long time..."
Manuela Cardiga
"Desire...Oh Mia! Desire! Have you been so long alive that your senses are dead?"
"No Michael, I have bled out my heart on a hundred true loves, watched children age and die before my eyes. I am as alive to love and pain as I ever was; and the only true hunger that survives and sustains is the need to see mirrored in another soul that very precious spark, and to hold in your arms someone from whom you can at least dream nothing in this life can part."
"Love? You have such power and you dream of love."
The Woman With No Art tilted her head in that odd feline cant: "Go out Michael and seek the truth. Or rather, go in. Go into yourself now. Tell me why you who had everything were so unsatisfied."
"Because...That's easy! Because..." The Man Who Had Everything stopped. "I cannot remember why. I just know whatever I did get did not satisfy."
"Look at me...Look. I am in myself the greatest mystery you will ever see. And do you know why?"
"You are Fae, immortal, magical."
Mia laughed softly and moved closer, placing a gentle hand over his chest.
"Nay Michael...none of that. Simply, I am the woman who will love you so completely that you will never survive without me. I am the woman who will take your soul apart, and devour your heart."
She moved closer and there was nothing in the world but the dizzy scent of her perfume, her lips, her eyes. Mesmerised the Man Who Had Everything watched her move closer; felt the first burning touch of her mouth, sweet and gentle as a child's. Oh such a kiss he'd not had since he was twelve and had kissed Betty Larsten behind the chapel after Sunday School Class. Her mouth...There was nothing left in the world but her mouth, and the Man who had Everything lost himself in that kiss; in that one kiss.
And in that moment was his heart set alight: a conflagration of such passion, such desire; that his new magical flesh caught fire. The woman clasped him closer, his flaming frame clutched to her flesh; absorbing him, devouring each spark, leaving to the very end his incandescent heart.
It ended, as do all such feasts, with a nostalgic sigh.
The woman licked one last flicker of passion from her forefinger and smiled. "Sweet Michael, such a flame! So bright! Oh I will love you so very, very much; such a perfect complete love: from me you will never, ever part."
Somewhere in her spasmed an ache like a distant memory; something that had once been a man aware of himself.
The Woman With No Heart smiled: "Hush now, Michael, be at ease.This eager unsatisfied heart of yours will last me a long, long time..."
Manuela Cardiga
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