Sythyry (sythyry) wrote,
Sythyry
sythyry

Here in Heaven [24 Consimbs 4385]


[Another special bonus issue of Sythyry.  If having the occasional bonus issue pleases you, feel encouraged to give me a tip, which, for this issue, can be done by: (1) singing to someone when you would ordinarily simply speak to them; (2) leaving a comment; (3) eating an unusually brightly-colored food item; or (4) using the name of a deity whose name you do not ordinarily use in casual conversation (e.g., saying "By Toutatis, it's good to see you today!")  Bonus points if you tell me about it, of course. -bb]
Mirrored from Sythyry.

Elfimel D: “Let us tell you about all the pretties and happies of Heaven! We will tell you anything!”

Phaniet: “Certainly. What is a ‘cycle’, that you mentioned before?P”

Elfimel D: “A cycle is once around!”

Este: “Around what?”

Elfimel E: “Around all of Heaven!”

Este: “How big is Heaven?”

Elfimel F: “Nine chambers of the cycle, and a few others that we go to sometimes or othertimes.”

Elfimel G: “Each chamber is more beautiful than the last one!”

Elfimel A: “we are always glad to go on. If we stayed too long in one chamber, it would become boring. What if all we had to eat was fruit? What if all we had to love was one other Elfimel? This is the essence of Heaven: that it is always new and always fresh, no matter how long we have been here!”

Phaniet: “I see. How long have you been here?”

Elfimel B: “One hundred eighty-six thousand, two hundred eighty-two cycles!”

Este: “You counted?”

Elfimel B: “I always count! Some other Elfimel always count too. We check each others’ work, and we always get it right! There are no mistakes in Heaven!”

Elfimel A, C, D, and E: [singing] “Oh, we make no mistakes in Heaven / We never do it wrong in Heaven / Errors are forbidden in Heaven / It is Heaven of the Mind!”

Este: “Were you anywhere else before Heaven?”

Phaniet: “Still worried about being turned into one?”

Elfimel C: “No! We were created as Elfimel; we were never anything else!”

Phaniet: “I see … I hear you, that time in Heaven is measured in cycles, but can you give us an estimate of how long a cycle is in some other terms?”

Elfimel H: “One of the other travellers said that a cycle was anywhere between a few hours and a couple weeks. It depends on how fast we go! We’re never in a hurry though. We’re never going to end!”

Me: “So how old does that make Heaven? Older than the World Tree?”

Feralan: “I can do the math! Let’s see … about as old as you at the youngest, Sythyry, and maybe twenty times as old as the World Tree at the oldest.”

Me: “So, either older, or younger, or maybe the same age.”

hCevian: “Oh, rejoice! It is more complicated than what you say, since time is not everywhere the same!”

Me: “So, either older, younger, the same age, or the question is meaningless.”

hCevian: “Delight! You understand the answer with perfect exactitude!”

Kantele: “Even Sythyry makes no mistakes in Heaven!”

Nobody: [singing] “Oh, we make no mistakes in Heaven / We never do it wrong in Heaven / Errors are forbidden in Heaven / It is Heaven of the Mind!”

Phaniet: “I guess time doesn’t matter too much to you.”

Elfimel B: “Hours and days don’t. We don’t have those icky things in Heaven. Cycles matter to us! We count them carefully!”

Grinwipey: “So, you’ll just keep going ’round and ’round, then?”

Elfimel B: “Yes — oh, yes! We will revolve and revolve in purest happiness!”

Grinwipey: “Counting the cycles all the way?”

Elfimel B: “That is my especial joy!”

Grinwipey: “So what happens when the numbers get too virsmegging big? Like, when it takes longer than a whole cycle to even say the number you’re on now? What’ll you do then, elfie-chit?”

Elfimel B’s ears went flat, and she shivered in a terrible fear. Six other Elfimel ran to cluster around her and comfort her, and distract her. I would call it an orgy, but, unlike any orgy I have ever been in (or, more often, that I have observed from the mantlepieces and corners, and slithered off from pretty quickly), there didn’t seem to be any particular lust involved. A lot of affection, I think, but no actual urgency or kinkiness. As if body-play were simply an ordinary way to distract Elfimel B from an unpleasant thought.

Phaniet: “Has anyone been here longer than you?”

Elfimel G: “Nope! All of us Elfimel were created at the same time, and we’ve all been here all the time! It’s wonderful and perfect!”

Grinwipey: “So how many you Elfie-Welfies are there? Forty-eight, I’ll bet, or I’m a squid in a puddle.”

Elfimel G: “Eight hundred and ninety-six!”

Grinwipey: “Dammit, where’s my puddle?”

Phaniet: “Where are all of you?”

Elfimel H: “Here and there in Large Fruit. Perhaps a few have gone on to Thick Flowers. None lag behind in Showers. We are careful not to get so spread apart!”

I guess we’re in Thick Flowers.



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