the sword of cobalt - Inspiron

by

inspiron, a godess of Imagination, wears her delta wings. They are meant for battle, they are meant for war. She must fight a blue skinned warrior who has forgotten how to breathe. Tears continously fall from his blue cheeks. She must fight her way into his barbed wire heart. The one he guards with a verocity that she finds inspiring if not obstructive
she tries to feel her way. by singing him songs of love and loyalty. feilty and faith. he resists her and pushes back with songs of broken hearts and shame. she unfurles her wings and claims the right of arethusa. the right to smite her lover, should he displease her so.
she did not intend to kill him, only to awaken him from his own sadness. to anger him into action, anger is more useful than grief. he is after all, the wielder of the sword of cobalt. he has seen too many battles. witnessed too much carnage, and she knew one way into his soul was through his militaristic leanings. through his sense of doing what was right. into some of the very things that makes men men.
it was a dangerous plan, a long shot. that could backfire. he could claim the right of arethusa and kill her first. he could claim the right of hathor, and fall in love, and take her into his arms. this was a result she knew she was little prepared for. because she has seen her own battles and wars. she has climbed out of trenches, and foxholes left by the forsaking of her friends. she had taken many lives, and left more behind.
she wears the wings of delta, as armour. and protection. he in turn would face a new battle, should he fall in love. to then conquer her fears. but she was a godess of imagination, and she could imagine a happier life, with him in the centre. she could concieve of a place where dreams come true. she has the capacity to create joy in abundance. and this is what she truly wished to share with him
a place where the dragons in his head could fly free, and where willowtrees grow leaves that hang down into peaceful creeks that lead to rivers that lead to oceans that seperate the islands between them.
inspiron flies around him, like a fairy. gently perching on his finger, on his wrist, on his nose. she could change her size and shape at will, for she is the godess of imagination. a changeling from a distant realm, where form is never definite. a place always in flux. in harmony with the vibrations of the universe, dancing on cosmic strings that bend into loops and back into strings.
he was ill prepared to meet one of her kind, she was no ordinary woman. to resist would mean a life of fighting, but surrendering would mean everything would change. fear gripped him deep in his belly. how could he live up to such a creature. how could he compare. she was magnificent. a godess, and he a mortal man. a warrior, true, but still bled from his wounds.
wounds she kissed with the mouth of a healer, wounds she would try to put to rest. by remaining stead fast, wings unfurled. ready for any onslaught. he was allowed to fear, fear being one of the most natural of instincts. her only fear would be that he would forever disappear, that he would finally push back too hard and break his own wrists. that he would collapse under his own preconcieved notions as to the weight of love. worrying about things men so often worry about.