Night in the Yunara Samaveda Room
The night in the Yunara Samaveda room no longer feels like a room. The atmosphere around them is filled with profound silence, as if time and space have paused momentarily to give them a chance to feel the indescribable wonder.
The sky is unrecognizable. The stars twinkle in an unusual way, as if they are witnessing a sacred performance. Time begins to vibrate, and the entire structure around them melts into a flow of soft echoes— as if space and body are no longer boundaries, but reflections of an unfinished feeling.
Beelzebub now lies in Fitran's lap. In that silence, there is a sense of peace enveloping them, as if the outside world no longer exists. But as beings who have shed everything except their longing to be loved, she asks, "Do you feel this bond, Fitran?" Beelzebub's voice is soft, as if worried about breaking this precious moment. "This feeling is more than just words, more than just a heart that beats."
Fitran gazes at Beelzebub with shining eyes, "I feel it, as if the universe's play is whispering through us. This love is an endless journey, and we are the explorers within it."
Fitran intertwines his fingers and slowly utters a mantra in a language without origin. His voice is gentle, like the whisper of a calming night wind.
"Aeyam nāma-hīnākṛta, patantu smaraṁ nāstitva." (For those without a name, let love fall into existence.)
The mantra is not to summon power. But to release all that need not be held. In every word spoken, there is hope and a desire to erase all burdens that bind their souls. As the mantra resonates, the light emanating from Beelzebub seems to respond, dancing in harmony with the depth of meaning in the mantra. This is a moment of transformation, where their souls connect deeper than mere physicality.
Beelzebub's body begins to glow faintly. The tips of her wings, once resembling the architecture of hell, now fragile like the petals of a flame that would extinguish if not blown gently. The light vibrates, creating beautiful patterns dancing in the air, as if celebrating a newfound freedom.
"I don't want to remember my form," Beelzebub whispers. Her voice is full of longing, as if she is revealing a deepest secret. "I just want to know… that I can touch you, and you will stay."
Fitran touches his forehead to Beelzebub's chest. And their breaths... merge. In that moment, the world outside seems to vanish, leaving only the two of them in an immeasurable eternity.
Not a metaphor. Their breaths truly pulse to the same rhythm. One inhalation = one acknowledgment. One exhalation = one regret. In every exhalation, there is pain and beauty intertwining.
"Do you feel every wound?" Fitran asks, his voice soft as if flowing from the heart. "Every scar that has shaped you into who you are now?"
And in each exhalation, Beelzebub's body, once impervious to wounds... begins to reveal invisible scars. These scars are silent witnesses of her long journey, wounds from rejecting love, wounds from hating herself, wounds from always loving in silence.
Yet these scars do not hurt. They manifest as pale purple light—a symbol of self-forgiveness. In that light, Beelzebub finds the strength to accept herself as she is. "Every wound is a story that colors the soul," she replies with longing, "and I am grateful to have lived to tell it."
Now, Beelzebub sits facing Fitran. Their bodies slowly unravel into light and patterns, yet they continue to embrace— not as bodies, but as two wills that do not wish to part. In that embrace, there is warmth flowing, erasing all fear and doubt.
Now, Beelzebub sits facing Fitran. Their bodies slowly unravel into light and patterns, yet they continue to embrace— not as bodies, but as two wills that do not wish to part. In that embrace, there is warmth flowing, erasing all fear and doubt. Beelzebub feels Fitran's heartbeat, resembling the rhythm of an eternal song that invites comfort. "Perhaps," she murmurs softly, "this is the most beautiful path I have ever traveled."
"If this world disappears," Beelzebub whispers, her voice full of hope, "and you do not remember me, can I still stay... as a feeling within you?"
Fitran does not answer with words. He draws Beelzebub's soul into his chest. And speaks in silence: "I will not remember you as a name. I will remember you... as a form of longing that never fades." Fitran's eyes sparkle with eternity as he adds, "Just as the cold night holds the stars, I will hold you in every second of my awareness."
As the ritual light fades, they return to physical form. Lying side by side, naked yet sacred in silence. In that silence, they feel each other's presence, as if the outside world no longer exists. Suddenly, Beelzebub feels a bond deeper than she ever imagined, a fine thread weaving their fates, as if this life is a love poem written by an unseen hand.
No lust. No magic. Only bodies that have lost their purity as tools, and now become a home for love that can choose to stay. In that moment, a gentle voice touches Beelzebub's ear, "We are part of each other, like two souls created to unite," Fitran says, affirming the strength of their connection that transcends physical boundaries.
Beelzebub now has tears in her eyes. Not to cry from pain, but to cry because she can finally love without thirst. In every drop of her tears, there is newfound freedom, a recognition that true love knows no bounds. "Every drop is a song, a song for the soul that has long yearned," Beelzebub says, gazing at Fitran with deep emotion, expressing longing and profound gratitude.
Before sleeping, Fitran kisses her forehead. That gentle touch brings tranquility, as if binding a promise between them. In the quiet night, Fitran's soft voice echoes again, "Every second with you is eternity, Beelzebub. Do you know that this love has changed me?" "You have touched humanity. Now, you are more than a demon."
Beelzebub slowly opens her eyes and replies: "Then give me a name. Not to be worshipped. But to be called when I long to return."
In an instant, the moonlight reflects hope in Beelzebub's eyes. "What does it mean to be human if we do not feel the same love? Can we create eternal memories in a soul that is trapped?" she asks, desire and longing merging in her mind.
Fitran holds her hand and whispers: "Aez'ril." "Which holds meaning, even if the world erases it."
And that night... Beelzebub became human. In the profound silence, they both know that this journey has just begun, and their love will continue, transcending the boundaries of time and space. "Like two stars in the sky that love each other, we will dance in light and shadow," Fitran expresses, a reflection of the newfound belief and beauty they create together.