Earth is just one names given to describe the Planes of Existence. The explanation is long, but in short, many many worlds exist simultaneously in the Universe. They overlap each other and every now and then the Planes mesh into one. Oftentimes it is harmless, two peaceful worlds meshing into one for a temporary occurrence.
When Celestials were created after the dawn of Creation, their purpose was to monitor the Planes, to settle disputes and to keep everything locked in the natural circular order of the Universe. Angels were also created at that time, but their purpose was to battle Demons, and Demons were created to exude Dark Energy, a necessary component of all life. And humans were created last without magic or power of any kind to cultivate Light Energy. There must always be a balance between Light and Dark. And so it has been written.
A cold wind howled through a desolate desert. The sand was a lifeless gray and the light source in the sky gave off an eerie purplish glow. Sand bristled and fell as it was rolled by the wind, always shifting and depositing in mounds. A black marble temple was constructed of ten perfectly square pillars arranged in a pentagonal prism. There was no roof on the temple; it was open to the mauve sky. In the center of the Hall of Obsidian, (so the temple was named), stood a polished black podium. Resting ever so delicately on the podium were two round offering bowls; one boasted the ashen remains of a blood rose and the other contained a smoldering wooden flute, two sacred symbols of the Goddesses known as Saph and Malak. Saph appeared first, rising from the ashes of the blood rose. Malak followed suit and materialized from the flute. In this Plane, known as Myrrh, both Saph and Malak were revered as evil temptresses from a barbaric dimension. This was most certainly not the case; Myrrh was a sick and twisted world plagued by demons, monsters, and evil. These demons were worshipped and pain, treachery, and evil were all considered to be important. Love, companionship, and understanding were shunned. Only a few priests and priestesses possessed the knowledge of Love, companionship, and understanding, and so they kept a hidden altar in the Desert of Kumon to worship the true Goddesses. It was apparent that they were needed or else they would not have been summoned.
Saph wore a diaphanous gown of white silk that cascaded to the floor. Her arms were bedecked in silver jewelry and a wreath of red roses adorned her black hair. Her eyes shifted occasionally from black to white, but mostly remained a piercing silver. A large rose sprouted from the center of her chest and the petals opened and closed with each breath she took. Malak exuded a golden glow from her molten skin. Her hair, as usual, was red, but the flames were more subdued. She wore a belt of jade over a loose transparent garment. Malak’s eyes danced from blue to green and she held a magical 8 stringed harp known as Truth.
Malak walked out of the Hall of Obsidian into Kumon. She harkened to Saph in her melodious voice,
“How long has it been?” Saph exited, her rose expanding and contracting.
“Not very long. Nelagath is still weak; he has just freshly been reincarnated.” Nelagath was a very powerful Demon. Being the exact opposite of a Celestial, Demons possessed dangerous power. Nelagath was the king of the Demons and he sought to bring the Darkness to all of the Planes. Of course, Saph and Malak would never let him do so.
Several thousand centuries prior, Saph had managed to trap the soul of Nelagath. She could not destroy him, but she made it possible for him to be reincarnated as a mortal. And for these past several thousand centuries, Nelagath had known a doomed existence as the most evil mortal man ever created. It was through his influence that caused the destruction of the once loving land of Myrrh. Nelagath had died and was reincarnated as a Demon, and his strength was developing too quickly for comfort. He must be dealt with before he managed to escape from Myrrh.
“Why haven’t the Angels been summoned as well?” asked Malak. Saph sighed.
“The Angels have done all that they can to stave off his growth. I spoke to Gabriel himself on the matter; they have done all they can. Only Angels’ have the power to smite Demons, but it is only we Celestial’s who can make the difference. Nelagath is too strong to be destroyed, and even if he was, the Universe would split and be rendered into a chaos far worse than anything Nelagath can create. We must find another way to delay him.” Saph shuddered violently and the petals of her Rose turned a deep crimson. Malak reached out to comfort her.
“I will be with you, as always Saph.” Reassured Malak. Saph’s eyes pulsated.
“I’m not sure if I have the strength left. The last time I dealt with Nelagath I was nearly destroyed.”
“Nelagath will never be able to overcome you, Saph. Never. Not while I still exist, not while all the Angels fight.” Malak sang in her lovely musical voice and dried the few tears that had begun to fall from Saph’s eyes. Saph straightened and her shoulders squared. Her Rose opened and began to glow a soft white.
“Let us go then, and be done.” The two Celestials were gone in a cloud of iridescent white smoke.
The Palace of Hell was as foreboding as its name suggested. Hell was a large dark city in the middle of the Desert of Kumon. Ruled by Demons and corrupt men, it was also a place filled with terror. In the Palace a Demon King rested upon a raised dais made of petrified fire. The atmosphere of the throne room emanated a wild energy. Slaves were whipped for the entertainment of the King, their cries echoing off the walls of the room. King Nelagath stood a total of ten feet tall in height. His scaly reptilian skin was oiled and black. His horns were gnarled and pointed and his feet were cloven. He wore nothing but a red velvet cloth around his loins that fell to the floor. His face resembled a human man’s in many ways; his nostrils were flared outward and his teeth were sharp like daggers. From his lips down to his chin, Nelagath’s scales were a polished silver, as was his tongue. Often times he was referred to as Silver Tongue, or as the Silver Demon. At any rate, it was Nelagath’s eyes that were the most startling, and the most familiar…
“Sire,” croaked a small stony Gargoyle, “I have heard some unsettling news.” The Gargoyle’s eyes were a dark blood red in color and his ribs poked out painfully. Nelagath turned to face the unfortunate creature.
“Unsettling.” It was a statement, not a question, and the word rolled off of Nelagath’s silver tongue with such elegance that that was unsettling. “Tell me, Molag, what is so unsettling that you must disturb my nightly festivities.” Nelagath made a motion with one of his taloned hands to increase the pace of the beatings. He smiled and smoke fumed from his nostrils as the bloodcurdling screams of the slaves rippled throughout the chamber.
“Sire, rumor has it that the Two were summoned, and have returned.” Nelagath’s smile broke. For the first time since entering the room, Nelagath turned to face the Gargoyle.
“Rumor or fact?” he ascertained. Molag’s beady eyes blinked quickly as he nearly choked on swallowed spit.
“My spies saw a Light Priestess burn two offerings in the Hall of Obsidian. That sort of summoning has not occurred in millennium. I know for a fact that there was a summons, but nothing has yet been reported of the Two.” Nelagath’s brow furrowed and his clawed hand went to his chin in a thoughtful gesture.
“What happened to the Light Priestess?” he asked.
“She was ripped apart, limb from limb, and then fed to the dogs.” Molag looked up at his master for his approval. The girl’s punishment was his doing and he had hoped it was sufficient enough. Once again, Nelagath smiled.
“Dear Molag, was she really eaten by the dogs?”
“Molag, your treachery becomes you. You ate her yourself, didn’t you, my obsequious minion?” Molag looked about nervously before admitting, “Yes, Sire, I ate her myself.” Nelagath laughed a wicked laugh.
“What did she taste like?”
“Like a virgin.”
“Thank you for that bit of information, Molag.” And with that Nelagath abruptly rose from the chamber. In doing so, the whippings stopped but the achey cries of the bleeding slaves could still be heard. Dragging with him on a long chain was a mostly naked slave woman. With skin the color of ashen lavender, the woman walked dolefully behind her master. She shivered in her loin cloth of black silk. Her hair was pulled back severely into a tight braid, and her face was painted beautifully. Her name was Shivra, but no one remembered, not even herself.
Nelagath sauntered towards his personal tower. Upon reaching the solar, he motioned with a clawed hand for the door to slam shut. He flicked his wrist and the torches blossomed with red flame, illuminating the dark room. Shivra crossed the room slowly, the chain making rattling noises as it trailed on the floor. Looking out the window, she gazed upon all of the city of Hell and the evil that resided in it.
“DAMN!” roared Nelagath. Poor Shivra jumped at the sound and immediately fell to the floor and prostrated towards her lord. Nelagath paced the room like a cage feline beast, smoke fuming out his nose and his mouth. “Of all the times, now she returns. Not once did she come, even when I was nothing more than a mortal. But of course, she must come as I begin to regain my power. I will destroy her this time, and nothing, not even that atrocious companion of hers will be able to stop me.” Shivra trembled on the cold marble floor. She shrieked when she felt Nelagath’s smoldering talons on her sides. He had magicked away both of their clothes and in no time at all, his mighty phallus plundered into her dry sheath. He was too big, being a total of ten feet tall, for a mere mortal woman. Shivra would die of internal bleeding sooner rather than later. Nelagath took her over and over and over again, his seed spilling out of her and pooling onto the floor where is turned into smoke. He even took her when she had passed out from the violence. Eventually, he was sated enough and moved towards the window. Wings sprouted from his great back and he jumped.
Saph and Malak materialized in the Palace of Hell. They were invisible to all, and remained for the most part undetected by the inhabitants of the room. The only one to notice them was the unfortunate slave girl at Nelagath’s cloven feet. She of course, said nothing, for no slave could ever speak to the Demon King. He was scary, truly a sight to behold.
“He is stronger than I had expected.” Said Malak to Saph in a voice no one else would hear. “How did he reincarnate as a Demon King? After all this time, I had thought he would never return.”
“There was a prophecy. It said that one day a king of great power would rise from the Desert of Kumon and take Myrrh into the new age. But that is all the majority of the populace knows. From what I’ve gathered, a wizard by the name of Ichath had the ability to read the many lives of any soul. He had heard of the legend of Nelagath and sought to unlock the Demon from his mortal prison. He discovered Nelagath’s evil soul one day in the body of a lizard. Ichath, hoping to elevate his position, released Nelagath from the body of the lizard who was then able to reincarnate back into his demon form.”
Malak took a moment to digest the information of these words.
“No mortal, no Demon, no Angel, not even us Celestials, have the power to control reincarnation. Only the God of Regeneration can do that. Where did Ichath learn that ability?”
“I do not know, Malak. But what I do know is this, Nelagath was going to return eventually. And now he has just done that. If we had not been summoned when were, he could have gotten too strong for us.” The Rose of Saph’s chest still glowed white, but an ominous black tinge clung to the ends of the petals.
“Saph,” said Malak, “Even now his powers affect you. We must act now.” That was the last conversation they had in the Palace of Hell. Nelagath had risen from his throne and nearly dragged his slave with him.
Saph and Malak watched in silence the horrific violation of the slave girl’s body. Her nether regions were split and bloody from Nelagath’s forced entry. When he had flown out the window, the two followed him. Nelagath landed at the Hall of Obsidian. He entered the pentagonal shaped temple and snorted in disgust at the offerings on the central podium. He knocked them over.
Wind blew through the black marble pillars. And on it, Nelagath heard his name spoken. His eyes rolled into his head in contempt, and smoke billowed from the corners of his mouth.
“Come out and face me, Saph. I know you are there.” Saph walked out from behind one of the black pillars. Her Rose rapidly flickered white, and the black tinged petals trembled. Saph’s pulsating black and white eyes met the only other set of pulsating black and white eyes in the entire Universe.
“Nelagath.” She said. Both sets of eyes pulsated precisely at the same time, black to white, white to black.
“Where is your bitch sister?” he asked rudely.
“She is here, beside me.”
“Why can’t I see her?”
“Your eyes can only see the Damned, not the Good.” Said Saph. Nelagath chuckled deep into his throat.
“I see you.” He said, his pulsating eyes slowing.
“Yes,” Saph agreed, “you can see me. Let us end this pointless conversation, Nelagath. I have come to delay you once again.”
Smoke fumed out of his flared nostrils.
“You will never defeat me, Saph.” He warned. Now it was time for Saph to chuckle.
“No, I cannot defeat you. To do so would cause the Universe to cave in on itself. No, I will not defeat you. And besides, I have already won.” And with that, Saph’s eyes began to shine a pure white. Nelagath snarled in pain as the Light generated from Saph’s eyes scorched his scaly skin. His wings ripped through his back and he The Light would someday prevail in Myrrh, but the Dark would eventually take over another Plane, thus keeping the balance. Nelagath was airborne again.
Saph transformed herself into a bolt of lightning and charged after him.
Nelagath did not get very far, for Malak began to sing. Her voice, as melodious and as pure as Love itself, rang through the atmosphere. The waves of sound generated from her throat were palpable; the vibrating strands gave off a strange amber light. Nelagath was captured in the sound waves, ensorcelled by the power of the Celestial. Although his efforts were futile, Nelagath struggled to fight the bonds. Saph, in her Celestial form, appeared before him as her ethereal wisp of black smoke. She reached for a delicate hand and firmly grasped his silver chin. She pulled his face forward so that their pulsating eyes locked.
“Saph,” he snarled, “Do you remember our last meeting?” smoke furrowed out of his upturned mouth. For a brief moment, Saph remembered, and her eyes burned black.
“How could I forget, Demon? My most glorious moment and your downfall.” It was now her turn to smile. It was that little bit of pride that was Saph’s own downfall. She should not have said that, she should not have said that at all. She had not made the mistake of underestimating his current power, but she did not take into consideration that his power was still growing. Unleashing a deep feral moan, Nelagath broke free of Malak’s bonds and erupted into black flame. He was gone.
“MALAK!” Saph screamed. “He left! He broke through the Planes! I have failed us all!” Saph panicked, and would have begun to cry had not Malak been there to pull her together.
“Saph, think!” she sang loudly. “You know where he went. You know what he seeks to do.” The black and white lights that made her eyes began to shine so brightly that they were visible even through her wispy form.
“Anjali.” She whispered. “He has gone to Anjali.” Summoning deep from the wells of her Celestial Power, Saph willed both her and Malak back into the Plane known as Earth.
India 320 BC
It was currently evening on this Plane. The heat of the sun still rose off of the ground but the air felt pleasantly cool. Bugs and other creatures stirred forth making noises. There was a gentle breeze that was spiced with the elusive fragrance of jasmine. In his beautiful white marble palace, Prince Anjali, first of his name, slept peacefully with the faintest curves of a smile on his dark lips. His room was open to the outdoors and he lay on his grand bed of red and orange pillows. Incense burned and added to the scent of jasmine.
Out of thin air a black flame ripped through. Nelagath stood in his full glory and looked at the form of the sleeping prince. His cloven feet sounded hollow as he strode towards the bed. With a clawed finger, Nelagath tore the fine mesh curtains that shielded Anjali from insects. Smoke spurred forth as Nelagath bent and opened his mouth. He would consume this mortal raw, the purest form of the soul Saph loved so much. In doing so, he would destroy her, leaving only one more Celestial to deal with. The closer he got the more the prince began to stir, as if he sensed something wrong. His smile faded and a frown creased his beautifully arched eyebrows. Suddenly, a cloud of black smoke encased his body. Nelagath tried to bite through it but he could not get through. Saphara sent a bolt of energy that repelled the Demon back. He would have roared except Makala had begun to sing a powerful song that blocked out all other noise. It would be very very bad if mortals chose this moment to walk in. Two Goddesses and a Demon King from another dimension locked in an epic battle of Light and Dark…
Nelagath stared at the form of Saphara with hatred. His eyes refused to pulsate white and instead only burned black. Bitch, he thought to her, You still think you can best me? You have not the strength as I.
“No,” said Saphara, her voice breaking through Makala’s spell, “I do. My strength is right here.” And with that, Saphara took a look down at the sleeping prince. Her eyes began to shine a brilliant blinding white. She expanded her form until she reached Nelagath’s daunting size. She moved so fast that Nelagath did not have time to react. Saphara kissed Nelagath on his silver mouth and began to suckle and bite his lips. A silent growl rippled through his throat, along with smoke, as Saphara began to run his hand all along his body, stroking him, teasing him. She clung to his body with her wispy ethereal form wrapping around him like a fog. The outline of Saphara’s body could be seen through the smoke. Makala helped her fellow Celestial by changing the song she sang in include a spell that froze the Demon in place.
Saphara’s quick fingers sought the growing rod in his lower region that was just now beginning to bud. When she breathed, she pressed her breasts to his chests and moaned quietly at the sensations his scaled skin made on contact with her body. She felt her own desire and lust rising. She pushed herself up on to her tiptoes and bit down on one ear lobe, all while fondling his sac. She stuck in her pointed tongue as far as it would go into his ear, and withdrew it repeatedly, mimicking their soon-to-be joining. Nelagath was powerless to stop her, despite the soundless battle that raged inside.
Saphara moaned and suckled his ears. She breathed into them, blowing hot breath. She kissed his lips, danced her tongue with his silver one, and stroked the boiling hot shaft that continued to expand. When he was fully aroused, Saphara willed herself up so that her legs were wrapped around his massive chest. With her hands braced on his scaly shoulders, Saphara pushed herself down onto his demonic phallus. It was black and rippled with scarlet red reins. Both of them unleashed silent moans of pleasure as Divinity joined Demon, the one and true opposite pair. Saphara began to ride him, using her power to pump herself higher and lower, faster and harder. As she worked up a blazing fury, her eyes began to pulsate so fast that they became silver, along with Nelagath. At the most critical point of all, Saphara closed her eyes and tilted her head towards the sky and unleashed a soundless scream. Nelagath did the same as he roared, and his black juices burst forth and erupted into the Celestial. Saphara opened her eyes that charged black. She sucked in all of his hatred, all of his evil, and all of his power. Nelagath felt his body quiver and shake violently as his power drained but was then quickly filled with a bubbling source of energy. His eyes glowed white and for a brief moment, the Divinity and the Demon hung in distilled silence as both Light and Dark flooded their forms.
This was how Saphara had defeated him the first time. Saphara was once nothing but White Light, clean and good, and just as clean as Makala. Nelagath was the epitome of all Dark and evil. The one and true way to conquer evil is through love. So the Celestial did what she did best, she fucked the Demon. She drew out his evil through the contracting muscles of her divine vagina and sent through it her loving Light. Saphara had sucked out his many powers, one of them being immortality, so that he would die and become reincarnated as a mortal man. The likelihood of him becoming a Demon again was nearly impossible, but somehow the wizard Ichath managed to trick the God of Regeneration. To say that Nelagath was purely evil after that would be false. Just as Saphara’s eyes pulsated black and white so did Nelagath’s, an eternal testament that Dark resided in Saphara as Light existed in Nelagath. Makala kept Saphara’s evil at bay and helped her to cultivate the Light that still lingered in her soul. Nelagath could never be destroyed. He could though, however, be changed into a being of Light, but it was not up to Saphara to choose that.
When her climax ended, Saphara pulled herself off of Nelagath’s throbbing wilted phallus. He fell to the ground, feeling weak and drained. Saphara shrank to her usual form and her wispy body fluttered for she was weak also. Makala sauntered over towards the fallen body of the Demon, her fire hair burning almost white.
“I send thee Demon,” she sang uproariously, “Back into Hell from whence you came!” A vortex opened from out of the floor. Makala’s leg whipped out and his kicked the Demon King into the spiraling cosmic whirlpool. Nelagath roared his chilling roar as he fell back into the Plane of Myrrh where Hell existed. With a look of pure victory, Makala set her jaw firmly and she closed the vortex with a wave of her hand. Nelagath was finished, for the time being. His evil still lingered in his soul but his powers were diminished.
Saphara cried quietly. Her smoky form quivered and trembled. Makala reached forward and pulled the wispy form to her chest.
“Saphara,” she crooned, “It’s alright. Everything is going to be okay.”
“I was so afraid,” Saphara sobbed, “I thought I was going to lose it this time. I felt his Dark, his evil, Oh Makala, it was stronger than I had expected. I was Evil!”
“Sssshhhhh shhhhh shhhhh. You will never be Evil. You are filled with Love. Pure Love. That tiny bit of Dark in you was planned to be there. With me by your side, I will not let that overcome you. And now,” Makala beckoned towards the peacefully dreaming prince, “You Prince awaits you.” Makala vanished and Saphara was left in the room, alone with the soul she loved with her entire being.
Rising, Saphara’s tears had dried. She floated gracefully and relaxed onto the bed of pillows. Propped on her elbow, the Celestial waved her smokey hand over the face of sleeping Anjali. He was so beautiful, so strong, so perfect. His thick dark eyebrows rested elegantly over his deep brown eyes. His skin was the color of bronzed honey and his hair fell in short wavy black locks across his forehead. Anjali wore his customary white cotton trousers and nothing else. Saphara traced her hand down his forehead to his full and sensuous lips. Her finger continued to praise his slightly pointed cleft chin, his strong throat, down his broad muscled chest, to his rippled abdomen, and then stopped at the faint swirls of black hair that angled to his nether regions. Saphara kissed him on the lips. Anjali shifted on the bed of pillows and woke up. His eyes opened and his deep soulful eyes looked into two pulsating ones. An easy smile creased his face.
“Divinity,” he breathed sleepily, “I dream.” Saphara smiled.
“No, my love, you do not dream.” Anjali softly sat up and put his hands on Saphara’s wispy shoulders. He pushed her down gently so that she lay beneath him. Anjali was the only mortal who could see Saphara in her Celestial form. And, it was only in this life that the soul that existed in Anjali could see her. Anjali had managed to reach Nirvana and was granted the ability to see Divine beings. He could touch and feel her body even though her form was made of energy and not mortal clay. Anjali’s large calloused hand caressed her face, and in doing so her body was revealed to him.
“Divinity.” He said, and that was all. His mouth soon found hers and they were soon locked in a passionate embrace. Anjali kissed her over and over again, leaving her mouth to kiss the side of it. He kissed her chin, her eyes, her cheeks. He grazed his teeth over her neck and suckled lightly on her wispy form. She tasted and smelled of roses. All the meanwhile, Saphara lavished under the praise, for Anjali was able to give her the most pleasure she could possible receive. Abruptly, Anjali rolled Saphara onto her back.
“Anjali!” she protested, her rising lust was evident in her husky words. He said nothing but kissed the back of her neck and her shoulders. He licked down her spine to her crevice. Anjali nipped at her sensitive sides which caused her to moan. Saphara’s juices began to pool out of her nether petals. Anjali returned his attention to her lower back, where he kissed, licked, and bit her skin. Saphara elicited a sharp cry of ecstasy at the sensations caused from the contact of Anjali’s skilled tongue on her rosy fundament. He loved her there, dragging his tongue across that knotted organ and then down her crevice. His hands split the cheeks of her Divine ass apart firmly, causing Saphara to squeal with pleasure. Anjali nipped and kissed her cheeks and then traced his tongue down the center of one cheek to the back of her knee. He kissed and caressed her thigh, and then shifted to the other leg. The pleasurable sensations were almost too much to bare.
Anjali flipped her over and kissed her flat belly. His tongue teased her navel and his large hands rested on her hips in a possessive manner. He closed his eyes and then bent to taste the sweet copious juices that flowed out of her wispy form. Anjali suckled her, licked her, teased her, and loved her. When she could not take it anymore, Saphara commanded Anjali to join her. He rose up and positioned himself above her on his forearms. With one thrust, Anjali entered her, and his eyes rolled back into his head in relief. He was the perfect fit for her, and she was the perfect vessel to contain him. He pumped into her slowly, feeling each and every ripple that made up her vagina. Her walls were so tight and he could already feel them quivering in passion. Anjali picked up the pace and in no time his breathing became unsteady and loud. He lowered himself onto her body and felt how warm she was. Saphara’s left arm was locked around his neck and her right hand was held in his firm grip. Anjali’s free hand was woven into Saphara’s flowing smokey hair. He buried his face in her sweet smelling neck, and Saphara turned her face so that her cries filled his ear. Her eyes glowed a pure white.
And, as it was, the mortal and the Divinity reached their peak of ecstasy, that pinnacle of pleasure in which Love is more than just a feeling, but a place, a location to be reached where there is no pain and no suffering. The couple crested down, filled with nothing but love. Anjali fell asleep with his member still embedded in the Divinity. Saphara smiled, closed her pulsating eyes, and fell asleep in the arms of the soul she loved more than anything else.