Lucent walks about in what was until a few months ago the beating heart of Creation. He wondered how it had been for the Dragon-Blooded before the dark flowers strewn all over their metropolis. He looked for the right place, one where it would be darker, one where more flowers could bloom. And as he did he sat down in lotus, holding the pendant into his hand.
Lucent And thinking. Of her.
There is a long pause where nothing happens, only the stars shining down from above and the darkness hanging quietly in the air. (...)
Then, there is a sudden gust of wind -- cold, much colder than normal -- and when it has passed, the faintest image of a girl, the grand black hammer hefted over her shoulder.
Lucent holds the pendant tight between his hands, still sat in Lotus. "Alveua?"
Alveua The woman looks over at Lucent with impenetrable and mysterious demon eyes, but there can be no question as to who she is.
Lucent gets up, lifting his hand almost to her. Not touching, with fear of disturbing the image. But close enough so the gesture can be felt. "I am sorry. I am sorry for all we had to do. I miss you so..." He sighs, taking a deep breath. "Can you understand me?"
Alveua nods quietly, and swings her hammer down to rest on the ground so that she can lean on its long haft.
Lucent "I would bring you back if I could. I wonder if there is a way...? A way for you to exist, even without your lord, the greater part of your soul?" He watches the hammer strike the ground, smiling despite herself, remembering as she forged... so much dear to him.
Alveua picks one of the flowers from a nearby vine and smells it, smiling a little, before handing it to Lucent.
Lucent brings it to his face and fills his nostrils with its scent. Oh, yes, they had turned white... every last trace of him scoured from Creation. He places it against his chest, and then on her hair, keeping it there even if it was but an image. "You always looked good in white."
Alveua smiles a little broader, though it's hard to miss that when she smiles wider, her face only grows more cruel in appearance.
Lucent "White, and so cruel." He laughs, shaking his head "You should meet Zahara."
Alveua sits down on her hammer, expectantly.
Lucent leans down to plant a kiss on her cruel lips.
Alveua Though her form is ethereal and almost absent, her lips feel full and real as she returns Lucent's kiss. The sound of insects buzzing rises to a thick roar as she grasps the back of Lucent's armor and he tastes the unmistakeable flavor of blood in her kiss.
Lucent continues the kiss, parting it to a thin string of red between their lips. "Getting carried away? Or are you telling me you need life to return? That you need blood...?"
Alveua wipes her mouth off with one arm and stands back up, turning her back on Lucent in the process. She was always rather difficult.
Lucent embraces her ghostly form from behind, whispering, "Why won't you talk to me?"
Alveua looks down at Lucent's pendant, which glitters in the tiny quantity of starlight that filters down from above, and when she does he can see even clearer just how incorporeal and empty she really is.
Lucent watches, a tear drifting down his eye "Love alone cannot fill you, can it?"
Lucent "You are a memory..."
Alveua shakes her head, and runs her fingers down Lucent's chest.
Lucent kisses her again, not minding the blood, how much it would hurt. "You mean you are not a memory?"
Alveua As if in answer -- or in no answer at all -- a gust of cold wind picks up again, and as Alveua waves solemnly to Lucent, her shadowy form is blown away on the breeze.
Lucent "WAIT!" He calls out... "There are... still things I want to ask, tell..."
Alveua The cool breeze dies away once again, and Lucent is left alone with the white flowers.
Lucent "I suppose it says something about me," He speaks to no one in particular as he picks the pendant and places it around his neck once again, tasting the blood on the back of his mouth, "That I always fall for difficult, rude, evasive women. A thousand different personalities, and I can never change THAT."