luka no

Come closer. And please, don't be afraid to look around. It's wonderful, isn't it? If it is this stunning to one half-blind as myself, I can't comprehend how beautiful it must be to others' eyes. Perfectly cultivated and sculpted over hundreds of years. I've become very adept at getting what I want, and more often than not, I don't have to lift a finger. The people are more than willing to provide.

Over these years I have become elegance personified. If I were to stand very still, could you tell me from the marble? Oh, not those horrible gaudy painted pieces you see in the temples. But those left naked, every contour and etching left stark white. You likely could not. I am statue come to life, Galatea with a will of his own, and every bit as eternally beautiful. People shudder when they touch me, feel the coolness of my skin and glance to the walls to see if any of the pieces have moved from their moorings. It's a wonderful sight.

Ah, but that is not even mentioning the true gem of my collection. My young lover. Even for one still mortal, still subject to the fleshy changing of living existence, he is a picture of perfection. Golden curls framing his face like the sun cast behind his head. Sharp, clever features and wide, blue eyes. A perfectly molded body. Rest assured I have kept him in this beautiful stasis with the gift of my blood. But I wouldn't trade the look of his hale, healthy pink skin for anything. Not unless it becomes a necessity.

He may as well be as Ganymede, and shares many of the features of that most beautiful of mortals. With him beside me, and with my immortality, who can say that I myself am not among the Gods?

Oh, perhaps it would be unwise to think such things out loud. Such pride begs for a fall. But it is a very tempting thought.

I do know one thing, that my sire, wherever she may be wandering now, would be very proud of what I've built for myself. I may not be a god, but my existence is very much divine.