"That's it darling," Lydia murmured into Michael's ear. The large man on top of her sped up and, his cock growing, drove chills into her spine.
She was close. The goddess wrapped her legs around her partner's strong waist and held onto his neck, awaiting the fast-approaching orgasm.
Thirty-eight years had not dampened the lust they had for each other in the least. Instead, it matured from the initial youthful flame, fostered through their decades-long trials. And this despite Lydia's permanent physical appearance. Something that had plagued a large part of her life.
Michael never cared, but the pressure in their earlier years was undeniable. Thankfully, that weight irrevocably lessened as he grew older. As he outwardly fit her own aesthetics and those around them eased their hidden words and stares.
It didn't matter how many blind eyes they turned, the implicit freedom helped them reach a deeper and stronger connection than ever before. Every year they would find a new angle to their love neither thought possible, and every year their need to consume each other grew.
Though she had to admit, he had also become a far cry from the emaciated nineteen-year-old that saved her. Stronger, wider... more experienced.
Lydia gave a muffled moan as Michael assaulted all her right spots incessantly. When it got to be too much and she came, he immediately hugged her head into his chest.
They couldn't let the neighbors hear such abasement from the goddess's tent.
She screamed and moaned into sweaty, muscled skin while her love filled her, and her body twitched.
Panting, the couple dropped side by side on the bed used for patients before she cuddled on his side.
"We need to get ready," Lydia said, enjoying Michael's wild smell.
"Can't we just take a break today? It's not like they've needed your services since the move."
"Emotional support is need enough." Lydia caressed his hair. "They're skittish, they need some sort of balance."
Michael sighed but didn't say more, instead pushing his head harder against her hand and hugging her body.
Already some clamoring could be heard outside. Mostly people laughing and playing about as a big feast was being prepared for her appearance. There wasn't much to do besides since they were still in the middle of moving the village deeper into Empryon. Away from the wall where the empress appeared. Where the emperor died.
What a mess
, Lydia thought as she moved a hand over her womb, trying to feel the warmth of semen inside. Knowing full well that nothing would grow from it. She wondered for the millionth time if bringing their son here had been the correct choice.
It had seemed to be for quite a few years. He was safe, happy, and on his way to becoming as good as his mother. But something had broken him. Something inside this supposed paradise had snuffed out his light and fire. No pleading or badgering, no amount of care was ever enough to return it. Neither from her nor Michael.
Now the outside world they had left behind had come knocking in one of the worst ways possible.
Michael's broad hand suddenly covered her own, right over her stomach.
"He'll be fine. Whatever happens, this is the last place that could possibly fall. None from the outside would allow an invasion so easily."
Lydia understood as much. Maybe more so than Michael did, but...
"I still can't help but worry," she said.
Michael lazily rubbed her hand a few times, his warm breath flowing onto her scalp. He was preparing his next words; it was painfully obvious. Lydia was already sighing when her love spoke.
"He'll be safe in here," he said, "but if he joins the prince's band, danger will come directly for him."
"Do you think my answers will be any different than yesterday or the day before?" Lydia asked, hoping that he would drop the topic so they could relax for a few minutes longer before the event.
"That's what I don't understand," Michael took his hand away and set it at his side, "you say you're worried, yet instead of pushing our son away from the perils of the outside you push him towards them."
"Leaving him alone, helpless, is not the way to do things Michel. Neither is spoiling him. I sometimes think we did too much of it and now look where he's at."
"He is not helpless, he has
us
. His parents. The ones that are supposed to safeguard their child?" Michael angrily waved his hand in the space above them, "And don't give me that 'he's an adult' dribble. You and I both know this surpasses everyday responsibilities. For the sake of the stars, he isn't even in the Protos rank."
Whatever peace Lydia had managed to accommodate was gone. She sat up in exasperation and began to look for her clothes.
"I'll spell it out for you one more time," she said. "First, he will not come with us, you won't convince him otherwise."
"You don't know tha--"
"
Second
, let's say we somehow did manage to bring him with us, and the problems mercifully passed us by. Do you think he'll change? No. He'll cling to us and remain a deadbeat."
Lydia found her upper garments and slipped them on.
"Third, and I know it pains you to hear me say it and I'm sorry, but we
all
die at some point. Even starchildren. What matters is how we spend our time. That is not a belief, reincarnation is real, and our actions are tallied."
"Then I want you to look at your actions," Michael said angrily as he stood, using his starlight infused vision to easily find his clothing in the dark. "If he dies out there, it'll be on you."
Lydia could have defended herself. Countered argued. Yet she simply stared at the vicinity of Michael's voice, knowing he could see her tears in the dark but gaining comfort in the shadows regardless.
When he didn't say anything more, she turned to find the rest of her clothing, hoping he'd help her. He didn't. He just pushed through the flap to their tent and left.
"Stars damn him," Lydia whispered to herself. She pushed her full concentration into finding her clothes and putting the garments on instead of letting the bile stinging her chest take over her mind.
Perhaps we should go see our son. That will reveal to him the truth more than anything I--
A flash of blood-red covered Lydia's tent for a split second, right behind it ear-splitting thunder.
"Michael!" she screamed.
"I got it!" his voice rushed from the outside and then in a louder, starlight infused yell, "Everyone gather at the center of the camp
now
!"
Lydia was already halfway out the tent. Like a flock of sheep, every villager followed Michael's instructions. The children being pulled along roughly by their mothers, men either huddling their family or combining efforts to help the elderly reach their destination faster.
"How long?" Lydia asked as she joined him.
"Whenever," Michael said. The couple stood right in front of the growing group of people while he had his arms extended with clasped hands, a faint white light gaining strength every second.
"Goddess!" a man came rushing, "there's still some people asleep in the tents!"
Before even thinking to say something, Lydia began to move when Michael stopped her with one hand, the other holding the skill he was about to unleash.
"You leave now, and everyone will die!"
"Let me
go
!" Lydia grunted and with a starlight infused pull freed herself, running toward her protégé.
"Lydia!"
The starchild was deaf to his calls. Her mind had narrowed her thoughts to near emptiness but for one phrase: Save her subjects by any means necessary.
Lydia reached the first, still occupied tent and was about to yell at its occupant to rise when a shockwave of insane magnitude buffeted the forest with such speed and strength that she had no time to brace herself. Her body was ripped from the ground along with trees, tents, and everyone still asleep.
In a rush of self-preservation, she managed to snatch a second of clarity and ran starlight through her body to raise her defenses high enough to withstand every pummel, crash, and strike. Sometimes from the ground, sometimes from an ill-timed trunk, and sometimes with the body of an already dead villager.
When the invisible wave finally spat her out, she fell rolling before coming to a complete stop.
Bruises marred her skin, but nothing to impede movement, and so Lydia stood with shaky breath.
The surroundings had been completely obliterated. What was a lush forest was now barren but for some tree stumps and the scattered aftermath of the impromptu disaster. And right between the parting dust clouds lay a golden bubble shield protecting Michael and a handful of villagers, most who had been surrounding him gone.
She had failed.
Michael quickly released his ability and rushed to her, leaving the catatonic group surrounding him.
"Lydia? Lydia!"
She couldn't answer. Almost no one was left. Three adults, two elders, one child. It wasn't even a fifth of her subjects.
"Hey!" Michael shook her shoulders forcefully, bringing some of the starchild's wits back.
"Focus on our next step," he said with a tone befitting a solider, taking only the mission into account. "We need to get them to the next village."
Lydia blinked several times, looking into her lover's eyes. Tears threatened to come out along with an anguished wail, but he was right. She couldn't fail those who were left too.
With a numb nod, Lydia walked to the survivors.
"We need to leave," she said, putting on a mask of confidence and consolation through sheer force of will. "You'll all be safe once we--"
"Ma'?" the child, a boy of barely five years, called in innocent query while looking around. "Mommy?"
Lydia felt another shockwave explode, only this time inside of her. Her vision blackened for a split second and her legs lost strength, but before she fell Michael grabbed her.
