The Primordial Record

"How can this be?" Rowan's body shook as if he was now awake, and he placed his hands around her, and summoning his Aether he created a dress made with red, and from his memory he made her favorite.

It was a palatial dress that only the Nobility could wear, and not just nobles but powerful Dominators. The dress flowed from her shoulders down her waist, where it was cinched by a belt that was decked with tiny precious stones. From her waist, the dress became broader until it flowed to her feet and extended beyond until it swept behind her for more than twenty feet.

On the dress were vivid stitching of flames, Phoenixes, and foxes with nine tails, making it dazzle, and she appeared to be enrobed in a dress made from red flames.

He reached forward and touched her face, and gathered all the blood until her features were not clouded by it. Her eyes looked at him with amusement and love at his actions, and she twirled around and laughed when the dress flowed around her body, disregarding gravity with a supernatural grace.

For a short while, in an entire universe that was frozen, only the joyous laughter of his mother, and the smile in Rowan's eyes remained. He felt his eyes stinging and threatening to shed a tear.

Her laughter turned out to be infectious, and when she held out her hands to him, he took it and then, like a girl, she began turning around, and he joined her.

The memories of those times returned unaided to his mind, piercing through the coldness of his Empyrean nature, and finding that warm place in his soulless heart, that he thought he had lost.

With the loss of his Soul as a result of his Avatar of Eve bloodline, and the knowledge that his bloodline would rebel against him if he did not accelerate his growth, his actions had grown cold and calculating.

The only vestige of his previous life was his desire to always leave seeds in every world he would inevitably plunder and consume, and as he considered that thought a little deeper, his seed making plan was just a way to be smart about the method he used in consuming the universe, I.e. instead of wiping it clean, he would leave a batch behind to grow and prosper and then he would return.

It did not take long to imagine how diabolical that line of action was. Yet, Rowan no longer thought of mortal existence to mean that much to him any longer, somewhere back when he was not paying attention, he lost the last of his humanity, and the laughter from his mother, against all odds, showed him a side of him he thought was gone forever.

The memories returned to him without ceasing. It was of a game they both used to play, and when he was young, he was the one she would twirl around until he got dizzy, his laughter had echoed in the halls of the manor, and it was one of the best moments of his life.

Presently she tried to do it, and when she failed to budge him a single inch, she collapsed into laughter, and Rowan joined her, it was natural and not forced.

It was his first real laughter in a long while, and then holding her hand, he began to turn, while keeping his motion at a decent speed, her legs left the ground and she squealed in happiness and shock.

"Faster, faster," she said, her laughter resonant.

Rowan complied and from above it appears as if her body transformed to a blooming rose as her dress spread around her.

And for this precious length of time, mother, and son played together.

They played against the backdrop of gigantic demons and gods, and against the setting of many worlds burning and a shattered moon. In this strange reality of black, white and red.

Their laughter became all there was.

Who said there could not be beauty in evil.

It was coming, the end of their dance, Rowan knew it, and he was sure his mother also knew it.

I don't want it to end. This should not be. This sort of miracle cannot happen to me, and even if I know this would all end up in disaster…. By the gods, I don't want it to end.

When the laughter stopped, he found himself seated as he had always done when he was little—on the ground, with his mother beside him.

She looked at him deeply and sighed again, "I can't get used to how big you have grown, it seemed like yesterday I could easily hold you up with a single arm."

Rowan swallowed the ache that threatened to burst out of his chest, "What happened to you mother. I was lost, one moment you were by my side and the next…" Rowan's voice steadied and he closed his eyes, "The last thing I heard was that you were imprisoned, and you were to be tortured until your death inside the Golden Tower. The reason I agreed to take part in the experiment was the promise of your freedom."

She smiled sadly and looked around her before returning her gaze to him, "Oh my sweet, sweet, child, that son of a bit*h is going to pay dearly for what he has done to you and our family. Going by the devastation around, I'm sure you are aware that many things are not the way they seem, the lies holding our little family together are deep and it would take a miracle to shine through all the clutter inside of it, and reveal all the hidden darkness to light."

She paused and took his hands in her own, "you did well in laying an ambush for your father, he was not expecting it, and that made the seals he placed on me weaken enough for me to escape for a time. He needs to always strengthen the seals every ten thousand years and for the first time in a long while he has made a mistake, and it's all thanks to your effort and wit. The time I have with you now is fixed, and I cannot have much more, for he is already pulling me back, and my hold-over reality would soon be over. Listen to me closely, and I will tell you as much of the truth as I'm permitted."