Did he remember something of his past? What was his past? Did he have a life before Medusa caught him in her snare? Or had he always been her pawn?
His voice stopped me, still Inanna’s voice, still wearing his disguise.
“Tell me something else, papa.”
I did not miss his emphasis on the last word. Something savage and dark laced his tone.
“How did you and dear mama meet? Was it love at first sight? I never tire of hearing that story. Tell it to me again.”
It was a demand. A command. His words were full of fury.
I’d never told Inanna that story, and my real daughter would know. She’d asked me repeatedly as a child, then as a young woman, but I never answered. I’d been in too much pain. I was certain that I suffered a kind of Decline back then, and in the many millennia since during my captivity. The Healer said the same.
I supposed that it was my punishment for loving a Dark One. Such a union was strictly forbidden for a Pure One; we were mortal enemies. Ishtar’s mother, Queen Ashlu, had enslaved my Kind for three thousand years until the Great War.
But recently, before Ishtar and I were reunited, before we Mated in truth, in every way that a male and female could be Mated, I knew that the version of the Decline I endured was because she taught herself to hate me. Her doubt was more powerful than her love. But it wasn’t enough to kill me, because deep down, in her core, in her soul, she never stopped loving. It was her sister’s poison that kept her from our truth.
I prayed to every deity in the heavens, including the cruel Goddess who had forsaken me for thousands of years, that Medusa’s poison would not keep my son from his truth—
That he is loved.
Unconditionally. Eternally. By me. By Ishtar. By Inanna. By the friends all around him just waiting for him to give them the chance.
I turned back around and tended to the chocolate slowly simmering on the stove. I had to be patient. He needed time. In this moment, I had the opportunity to share my truth with him. And perhaps remind him of his own.
I didn’t speak again until the chocolate was ready. I poured it into two giant cups large enough to be bowls. I placed his in front of him and waited until he took a sip.
I took a surreptitious breath to fortify myself, for this story would be difficult to tell, and I intended to tell him all of it.
How Ishtar and I met. How we broke apart. How we came together again in the cruelest way. How I broke her heart, and how she broke mine. The deal with Medusa that ended the war. The millennia of punishment at the serpent’s hands. How my one true love tore me apart when we came together again. How everything inside me withered and died…
My heart thundered in my ears, as fear and shame made my throat close tight.
But I swallowed past that lump and began:
“Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess whose innate light rivaled the heaven’s brightest stars…”
Chapter Three: Do You See Me In Black And White?
*THE CREATURE*
And that brings us to my present conundrum.
If the Healer and…Tal are to be believed, he—that is, I—that is—it…
MOTHERFUCKING FUCKING SHIT!
Who the fuck am I?!
I’ve always been the Mistress’s Creature!
I’m Frankenstein’s Monster!
I have two fragments of her rotten soul within me! I’m a thing! A nonentity! A collection of holes for people to fuck and rip into! A jumble of thoughts and rebellious snark! Why am I even alive?! Why do I exist?!
I hate myself I hate myself I HATE MYSELF!
The next few hours I won’t bore you with. I may or may not have ripped and hurled and broke every breakable, movable thing in my apartment.
Ha! My apartment.
Am I truly not a prisoner here? Do they really think I’m the prodigal son returned to their goody-two-shoes bosom?
Or is this some kind of elaborate trick? Are the Pure Ones devious enough to invent such a convoluted story? The son of Tal-Telal, the legendary General of the Pure Ones, and Ishtar Anshar, the most beautiful Dark princess who ever lived?
Come on! Who’d believe it?!
(I may or may not have hysterically laughed at this point until my stomach cramped and tears streamed down my face).
When I finally calm down enough to breathe normally, I trudge into the en suite bathroom with its wall of mirrors on one side.
According to Benjamin, I have dark hair like my…like Ishtar, and blue-green eyes like Tal. The image in the mirror shows one of my disguises, the Creature who is both male and female and neither at the same time, with long, wavy black hair, pale, translucent skin, and evil black eyes glowing red at the centers.
Slowly, I let my form change into that of Binu, the looks of the young human male I often take. The appearance I imagine for someone of privilege, erudition and refinement, the opposite of the maniacal, disgusting Creature.
Then, faster and faster, I cycle through the countless forms I’ve taken across the endless millennia of my existence, until I’m heaving with exhaustion, my skin clammy, cold sweat dripping down my chin.
Fuck! I can’t do this. I no longer know what my true form is. I’ve lost myself long ago.
I’ve taken forms that have dark hair and blue-green eyes, but I know that none of them are the real me. At the same time, I don’t know any more what I really look like.
I’m the Creature. I’m a thing. An ugly, rotten, filthy, depraved, monstrous thing!
How can I possibly be theirs? Tal and Ishtar’s? Inanna’s brother? It doesn’t make sense! It’s a fucking LIE!
Because if I’m truly theirs, why have they forsaken me all this time? Why did they leave me to be hurt and abused? Do I deserve it? Do they think I deserve it? What’s wrong with me?
Please! Gods! Dark and Pure Goddesses, you fucking, lying, evil bitches! Tell me what I did wrong!
Tell me—why am I so wrong?!
WHY!
(This may be where I finally passed out in a messed up heap on the bathroom floor).
*** *** *** ***
The sand-papery rasp of a warm tongue against my face makes me stir to wakefulness.
I slowly open one eye, and then the other. The furry face of the most adorable (gigantic) kitten in the world comes into focus.
She blinks those bright violet eyes at me through a fringe of thick lashes and twitches her whiskers.
“How did you get in here, you sneaky little feline?” I mumble with barely a voice, my throat rough from the recent unmanly fits of railing and blubbering.
Bet the mighty General would never show such weakness. Just goes to show I’m not a man. Not in the ways that count.
“I got Val to let us in,” my favorite person in the universe chirps loudly beside me. “I hope you don’t mind. We were worried by the commotion in your apartment. Are you okay?”
No, I’m not okay, but thanks for asking, Benjamin.
What I say out loud is, “I’m just peachy keen.”
The kitten goes back to licking my face, then my throat, then my hands, wherever she can reach. She rubs her thickly furred body all along me, still sprawled in a discombobulated heap on the tiled floor, and vibrates like a small motor, purring loudly.
My breath hitches as I realize who she is.
Not that I believe the Pure Ones, but just for the sake of argument. If I follow the logic presented to me, this spotted leopard kitten is a version of Ishtar’s animal form. I’ve seen the gigantic White Beast when she pounded Medusa into the ground, but I’ve never seen the kitten version until the Pure Ones brought me here.