Split of the Worlds (18+)

Veidja thought about it for a moment. She had not often been in the human realm. That was the business of other angels, other castes. On the few occasions, it had been more about getting a feel for the humans so that she knew what she was fighting for in the Eternal War. And to gain basic knowledge of the world in which humans lived. It was so different from the smaller White Mountain. There were no animals here; there they were an indispensable part of life and admittedly fascinating. Humans had terms for everything, were changeable and fast-paced. In order to understand humans as angels even to some extent, each of them had to immerse themselves in this abundance for a while so that they could work on a common knowledge base.

At these times, she had worn different attire, mostly chosen for her by experienced enhancers. The last time she had felt most comfortable in... Veidja concentrated and created pants made of a firmer blue-washed fabric, sturdy shoes in black and a tight-fitting but flexible short-sleeved shirt, also in black, but without buttons. She concentrated on the old knowledge that was inherent in every angel, and probably demons too: jeans, sneakers, T-shirt. Those were the right words for it.

When she opened her eyes and met N'Arahn's gaze, she realized that she had made a mistake. He was able to hold back for a moment, then burst out laughing. At that moment, she felt very deficient.

- - - - -

"Really?" The demon slowly calmed down, but hadn't quite caught his breath yet. "This is the outfit you would choose for a dance café? I guess you haven't gotten out much, huh?" N'Arahn could taste Veidja's anger in the air. And there was something else, so much sweeter. Shame. She was embarrassed by her blunder. The demonlord struggled with himself, two conflicting sensations wanting his attention. He wanted to provoke her, to comment on her lack of knowledge and show her how far off the mark she was. And he wanted to reassure her, tell her that anyone can be wrong and restore her pride. Both, he knew immediately, would not have been the right approach.

"Look. That's what you should be guided by." He stretched out his arm and conjured up shadowy images of human women in dresses. At dances, at receptions, at parties. Everything he remembered. And that he had liked.

For a brief moment, N'Arahn felt relief that the angel's abilities were blocked. The look Veidja gave him might otherwise have turned him directly into ashes. But then she closed her eyes briefly and... Well, she cut a damn fine figure in a dress like that. And he knew a thing or two about damnation.

The deep red, almost purple, fabric literally flowed down Veidja's body. The dress left her shoulders bare, which were played around by her now longer hair, but completely covered her arms and reached almost to her ankles. Was there a corsage built into it? When she took a tryout step to the side, N'Arahn had to swallow. The fabric was tight up to the angel's hips, only to fall further from there. However, it was slit up to the upper half of her thigh for extra freedom of movement. Black tendrils trailed along the edges of the fabric there, dancing with her slightest movements.

"Good." His voice sounded husky, even to N'Arahn. He had wanted an angel in evening gown and that was exactly what he had gotten. It briefly flashed through his mind that even Llanna would be impressed. But to compare the two...

The illusion blurred and Veidja stood there again in her plain white dress. The shadows hindered her too much here, even if he had loosened them a little. In the human realm, she would be able to maintain the change.

"Come." He relied on her to follow him. Even if it was only to test whether she could escape in this other place. Which she would not be able to do. But she changed when she sensed a way out, and he liked to see that. She seemed more alert, more open. More alive.