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The flowers bloomed under the morning star as Venus lay among them. The world still asleep, and she still awake. The man beside her had been there since the moon hit its crest last night. Sam, everyone called him, was a boy both in and out of the world. He had a destiny, one not favorable: he was to be an executioner. His blood was cursed from centuries ago.
Venus understood the feeling, the feeling of the blood in your body being something despicable. She felt it flow white-hot through her veins. Her skin itched in a way nothing could soothe. The flowers around her were white, lilies, she thought. She was surrounded by innocence and had never felt sicker. She looked at her vein and questioned if her being here sullied the flowers.
By the time the sun rose, both had left. The house of the head pastor was waking; Venus scaled the wall to her window and climbed back in, getting ready for the day as if she had never left the gilded walls. A knock resounded through the room after she had dressed. She responded with a light, “Come in”.
The man who walked through the door was Mikhail. His father was the head pastor of the nation, and the benefactor who so graciously allowed her residence here. She was meant to be Mikhail’s bride. Their union had been blessed in their childhood and had brought her into the favor of their lord. She now lived in the highest plateau of the kingdom, all massive houses with perfect families. Then there was her;, many called her the shining star of the kingdom. She could not disagree, but she knew she was meant to. To be humble is to please their lord, and yet she felt beautiful. Which in turn made her feel disgusting to the highest degree.
Mikhail stood tall in her doorway, “Venus, might I escort you to breakfast?” His blond hair cascaded in long curls; he seemed sculpted of marble. Comparable to the heathen gods of old, in that his immense beauty outshone the sun, the light of which was the greatest of their lord's gifts. He was perfect. Simply, utterly perfect.
“I’d be honored.” They walk largely in silence all the way to the dining hall. Servants weaved like worker bees around them. Venus looked on in concealed contempt. No matter her feelings, she mustn't forsake everything she ever knew. Just another week and she’d be fixed.
“Venus, star, you shine like the bride-to-be you are,” the lady of the house addressed her across the table, “The day we’ve been waiting for is upon us.” Venus smiled softly, closing her eyes as to hide the fact it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “I am not all that, Mrs. Yahhim, just blessed by the great one to be granted such an opportunity to serve him.” Father Yahhim looked on, pleased, “You truly are a holy woman, may the lord keep you. Speaking of, your coming of age ceremony is prepared and shall be followed immediately by the wedding.” This would fix everything, she couldn’t be more…excited. Her mind would fall in line after the ceremony, and she would truly be holy again.
Mikhail and Venus walked the city center. A man stood in front of a shop barking out for attention for the shop like a dog begging for a bone. The shop held suits, beautiful suits, perfectly tailored and form fitting. Mikhail would be immaculate in any of them. One had lilies embroidered into the vest with golden vines and swirls. Venus paused for a moment too long looking on at the suits. Mikhail noticed and smiled, “That is quite lovely, perhaps I could wear it to your ceremony tomorrow?”
Venus snapped back to attention, “I’d love to see you try it on, at least.” Mikhail blushed but deflected, “Well I’d love to model it for you, but I am nothing compared to the skill of the tailor. I only hope to do it justice.”
He did look perfect in it. It truly seemed made for him. Perhaps it was, their lord made everything and knew everything, all was part of his will and plan. He made the tailor, he gave the tailor his skill, he gave the tailor the idea, he gave them the idea to walk this way, he made Venus stop. He was testing her, and she was failing. She wanted Mikhail, she wanted the suit, she wanted…
She wanted this all to stop. She would not turn from her creator, everyone got tested, this was hers. When humanity had the power to make, they had to choose to turn. That was his will. And he is everything.
They bought the suit.
She ran out into the field of flowers looking to the spot where Samael already sat. He smiled as he saw her and stood to catch and spin her. She smiled brightly, “Sam,” she greeted, “Your day?” He let her down and they sank together to the bed of green and white. “As well as it can be. I will be going to bask in your glory tomorrow,” he lightheartedly mocked, “and I hope you can make it to mine following your wedding.”
She laughed, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, you know that.” She looked down at the flowers and ran her hands through the stems, “We will soon be clean.” He winced, “As clean as we’re allowed to become.” The silence dragged as they sat with their thoughts. “Can I confess to you?” Sam asked, breaking the silence. Venus looked him over, “I am not someone who can hear and forgive your sins.” He grabbed her hand, “You are holy to me. That is part of it. I feel I would rather worship you than the creator. I hate my blood, I desire to be more than I’m allowed.” She held a hand to his mouth, “Do not say such things. And do not worry, in a few days we will be content and holy.” His face contorted as the words left. Sam blinked and watched the ground, “You’re right. I'll be content soon.” She nodded and thought, tomorrow, I will be fixed.
It was supposed to be fixed. She tore off her veil as she rushed into her room. She tugged helplessly at the dress so elaborate it required help to get on and off. She was still hungering for something greater, for something different. This was not how this worked. She passed the tests and this is when she should be rewarded. She has been dedicated to her creator. Her life is his. She should be free. Why? Why? WHy? WHY?
The plan, was the plan for her to fail? Was she meant to live in suffering forever? She knew her blood was dirty but she should have been cleansed through this. Made into the servant that the lord wished of her. If the creator was merciful, why would they not take this pain away when she proved her devotion. Why give her thought in the first place if she was always going to think wrongly?
The maids came in to help her take off the dress. They had no choice in this truly, they were destined for this like everyone else. Were they anything more than slaves to their blood? Was anyone? She dismissed them as soon as possible. She went to the window, skilled from years of meeting with Sam, she climbed to Mikhail’s window. He was asleep. She snuck over to his closet and locked the door. She grabbed the lily suit. They pondered it, Venus thought it over. Venus pulled on the suit.
He stared at himself in the mirror. He looked heavenly. He looked more like a god than any statue or scripture. Why should he not say that? Was he not in the god’s image? If everything was his plan then this was too. No. This was not his image. Venus was in Venus’ image. This was Venus’ plan. Nothing could take this moment, this euphoria away from him.
A knock sounded out, harsh and booming. “Who’s in there?” a voice demanded through the door. Venus didn’t know Mikhail could sound like that. He was always kind and calm. This was hard and cold. In a second they panicked. They could take off the suit, physically remove what to Mikhail, the perfect son of the pastor, the next in line to be the disperser of their gods will to their town, would be a sign of sin. But that would only be to chain down what had finally found its way through all the stigma and hatred.
They unlocked the door and pushed it open. Mikhail’s features softened only to twist in confusion, “Venus? You scared me- what… what are you doing in here, in that?” Venus looked at their body, still donned in the suit, they could not back down, “I don’t know… I don’t know why but, but it feels right.” Mikhail paused, turning over this idea in his head, “But, but it's not right Venus. You, you’re a woman, you can’t wear that. It's against his image.” “I refuse to believe that. I- I can share in the power of creation, I was given the means to, so I will.”
“You are not a creator, Venus, you are the creation, you are made perfect. This- this is a test. Just confess to my father and this can all be solved for-” Venus cut him off, “No! It can’t be fixed because there’s nothing to fix. This is how I am meant to be. No matter how I was made, or what was intended, I have never once felt right. I tried everything. I kept my head down. Followed every rule. Criticized my every move, my every thought. And only ever landed on being wrong, on hate, on hating myself, hating the world, hating the creator,” Mikhail physically recoiled, “But on this, I finally feel right.”
Tears streamed down Venus’ face as they finished speaking, a smile tugged their lips and even Mikhail couldn’t deny that they looked more at peace than ever. Mikhail choked down a gasp, or perhaps a sob, and looked them over again. This was right. Even if it meant he had to lose her. They were right like this. This was the only way they could live, and to try to take that away… it’d be cruel.
“You- you need to go,” Mikhail finally got out, voice wet with unshed tears, “you can’t stay. Not like this.” He pulled them out and started packing them a bag. “Mikhail, you could-” he cut them off, “No. I can’t. But… Sam can.” Venus’ eyes widened as he pulled them into the servant’s passages, “You know about Sam?” He let out a soft laugh, one which sounded more like a sigh and was filled with sorrow, “Of course, I know, I just, hoped…” He shook his head as they got out of the palace and rushed to the lower part of town.
Mikhail moved with determination. He would protect the person he loved, even if he could not give up everything he knew. He rushed with the speed of a man condemned, and knowing his faith, he felt like a man condemned. No amount of confession or belief could wash this all away, he knew that of course, but, he had never seen perfection before them, and how could he trust in an imperfection he’d never seen over the perfection right in front of him.
They got to the clearing where Sam was already waiting. His face cycled through a flurry of emotions; settling into a barely contained mix of fear and curiosity. He looked the two over, waiting for them to speak first. Mikhail granted this after catching his breath, “You- you two need to go.”
Sam’s eyebrows jumped practically into his hairline, “Go? Go where? What’s going on?” He reached out for Venus, taking their hands while not taking his eyes off Mikhail. Mikhail stepped back once they were in Sam’s arms. Venus finally spoke up, “I can’t stay, not anymore, I- I am finally happy, but the world will crush it if I stay.”
Sam brought her in closer, “And the golden boy isn’t coming?” Mikhail shook his head letting it fall slightly in repentance. Sam looked him up and down, seeing through his facade, practically into his very soul. Sam could see the doubt heavy on Mikhail, and yet, he knew he could not change it. Not tonight. “Alright.” Sam said simply and the two started off into the forest.
The disappearance was noticed immediately the next day. Only a day before the wedding of the future head priest, his bride had disappeared. They searched the kingdom, they searched the nearby woods, they searched the waters. Not a trace was found.
The people turned on her immediately, as they would on anyone, there had to be something wrong with her. This was their lord doing the town a mercy. She wanted to bring their happiness to ruin. Suddenly, everyone had a story. The tailor said she had been prideful, always flaunting her beauty, rejecting humility. The baker said she was sneaking around alleys, meeting men. The butcher said she had dug through his trash, taking meat.
Then the stories got worse, she was seen doing strange rituals, meeting demonic figures, sacrificing small animals, stalking people, preaching heresy. There was no end to the rumor mill, spinning newer and newer tales of a person taken by the dark, fallen to the sins, from the grace of their righteous lord.
Adam was waiting for Maeve in the clearing of lilies. The flowers had begun to wilt, ready to cycle into death and rebirth for the winter. The leaves fell, gold, copper, umber, rust. The brilliant storm of color buried the apples on the trees around them. So too did it mask both the youths and the intruders from the other presence.
Sam and Venus walked through the break in the trees, coming to see a break against the fall swirl. The two people appeared young, untainted by worry and the world. Sam and Venus were about to turn and let them have their moment when the male youth turned to see the two. He did not recognize Venus, which was good for the exiled couple, they did not need to flee immediately.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I hope we’re not intruding.” Adam apologized as his partner Maeve turned to look as well. Sam smiled warmly, “Not at all, we’re the ones intruding on you.”
The girl looked over at Venus, “You, aren’t you a woman? Why are you wearing that?” Venus was wearing pants of brown plaid and a shirt of a fine red, almost saffron, of a delicate silk it seemed. On their head was a flower crown of lilies, twisted together and placed delicately on long black locks braided in a fishbone pattern.
Venus only smiled, “I was born a woman, but this is better for me. I have shared in the feeling of creation.”
The girl leaned forward, eyes wide with curiosity, “But, that’s not allowed, isn’t it?” Venus did not fault the girl for her ignorance. They recognized they were everything that backwards society demanded they not be.
Venus took a moment to turn words over in her head, “If you believe so. However, I don’t hold that belief anymore.” Venus looked over then girl, it felt like a mirror in a way, this girl. Venus finally formatted their thoughts, “I was given the power to create, to become, and told that to do so is to disgrace my creator. This was not a test, it was fake, I chose to see through it. Now I am happy. Can you say the same?”
Maeve looked back stunned, “I could… I could do that too?” Venus just nodded. The clearing sat in silence for a second that lasted an hour. Then a sound was heard. A brilliant stallion brigade came into the break. The group, once joyful, at the sight of Venus and Sam with Adam and Maeve transformed into an execution procession.
“Witch!” the head pastor cried out, “Why have you come! To corrupt our youths!” Mikhail rode behind his father, eyes wide at the sight of his former bride. He held back a second as Sam took his place in front of Venus. He only just stopped himself from reaching out for them. His hands barred from going too far as if stuck in a cage.
Before anyone could speak, explain, continue, Sam spoke, “We have committed no such crime. We do not fit your standards, so we have left. Use us for your ghost tales, but do not keep us imprisoned.”
Sam looked over Mikhail, his eyes burning with passion. His eyes cut like a knife. Was it demanding? Was it begging? Mikhail had no clue but it made him feel naked in the face of someone who he had barely ever spoken to and yet seemed able to talk without words straight to his soul.
“Spare us your pleas!” Mikhail boomed, jumping down from his horse, “You are heathens, not worthy of mercy!” He rushed over, shoving down Sam and grabbing Venus by their hair. He brings up his sword, striking like the blacksmith does the iron, dropping the fallen one limp to the ground in a flurry of blood and cut hair.
Sam screams in agony, rushing Mikhail and tackling him to the ground. His punches fell like judgement on the condemned. Sam was strong, stronger than those trying to pull him off of the holy son.
A halo of blood formed around Mikhail. Sam slung him over his shoulder and picked Venus up in a bridal carry. He glared heavily and finally as he carried the two bodies into the forest.
Mikhail woke up to an angel. Their halo was black, shining around their head as they smiled down at him. Mikhail smiled back, feeling the muscles in his face scream in pain. The angel’s smile winced and around him he heard voices as though he was hearing them underwater. Finally, one broke through as his vision got less fuzzy. “-hail, Mikhail, there you are golden boy.” A deep voice cut through and as he looked to the side he saw Sam, knuckles wrapped. Venus’ voice cut through next, melodic yet harsh, “You could have held back a bit, you nearly killed him.”
Sam chuckled, “For record, I did not almost kill him. Believe me, I know the force it takes to kill” Venus rolled her eyes. Sam smiled at him, “Besides, pretty boy knew what he was doing.”
Mikhail did have to give Sam that. When he couldn’t take the burning of Sam’s gaze anymore it struck him. He sliced his arm as he went up, brought the sword down through Venus’ shirt, avoiding her organs. Her hair got in the way, but made it much easier to hide the slight trick he was pulling off. Sam was smart enough to know the shallowness of the stab, he had a better perspective of the attack being on the side afterall. Sam got the plan immediately. He wished he could have gone easier but he needed to make it realistic.
Sam’s knowledge of death really was slightly terrifying.
Venus shook their head, “What am I going to do with you two.” Sam wrapped his arms around her. “I was hoping you could love us. Oh prophet.” They pushed him off with a laugh, “What are you talking about?”
“Isn’t it obvious? You freed us. And you’re not someone to be worshipped, but maybe we can try the love without the hate?” Sam said from his place on the floor, and it was true, Venus’ pretty face held more knowledge and empathy than the entire kingdom they came from combined.
Mikhail could have sobbed (in fact he did in the moment), and begged, “Please.” The one meant to command wanting only to be comforted. To protect and love and never have to raise his sword again.
Sam pushed himself off the floor, he helped Mikhail sit up and wrapped him in his arms, opening his grasp to invite Venus in. These hands that were destined to kill were being used for care.
Venus took the invitation and the three sat together, defying every expectation and destiny laid out for them.
This was where they were meant to be, who they were meant to be. There was nothing that could outshine the three, not the sun, the moon, nor the morning star.