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First Demonic Dragon-Chapter 955: Progress?
The question was a nearly unthinkable one.
Whenever anyone thought of Seras, they thought first of the beautiful crimson crimson-skinned dragonness who personified the most violent aspects of not just mankind, but of mortal races as a whole.
She was a warrior of immense pride and esteem. The envy of Morrigan, Ares, Tyr, Wukong, and even Satan.
Her creatively violent mind, ability to remain fully poised and rational even when fully immersed in her blood frenzy, and her ability to not only learn but also copy any martial art she witnessed, all made her a definitively terrifying entity. Perhaps even more so than the black dragon himself.
That was Seras' identity. And in this life, it had been who she was for as long as she had come into existence.
The thought had never occurred to her, or anyone, that she would have a problem with herself.
She was the type of woman- the type of warrior, who lived for the fight and the glory that victorious battle brought her.
...Right?
And yet, over the years, Abaddon and the others have come to see various other sides to her.
Seras has a deeply rooted commitment to self-improvement. Sometimes crossing the line into obsession.
The only thing that can make her forget this need to better herself, is her partners and children.
For them, she feels no need to improve. Because she already knows that she alone is enough for them.
That isn't to say that she loses her desire to take care of herself and stay active, but she does show a very noticeable mellow demeanor that isn't usually present with her.
It truly makes Abaddon wonder... does Seras actually like being a goddess of war?
Even before answering Abaddon's question, Seras seemed exhausted. "My love... why would you ask me that if-"
"I know you don't have the option to forfeit your divinities." Abaddon began. "But you don't have to actively practice them."
High-level deities, mostly primordial, can split specific portions of their consciousness into the occurrences of their divine authorities to alter, record, or manage the way in which the event unfolds.
Lillian is currently in an uncountable number of places all across the multiverse. As death and adaptation, she takes mortal souls by the hand and leads them to their designated afterlives.
Valerie stands in the background of moments of great creation. The kind that skyrockets the longevity and quality of life of different civilizations.
Even Lailah is present to bestow some of her knowledge in the minds of geniuses so that they finally achieve their 'ah-ha!' moment.
But they do not have to take part in these things. They do it because they still enjoy them, and they feel it is their responsibility.
It isn't a sentiment shared by everyone though. Lisa hasn't produced a cosmic storm in two thousand years, and Erica hasn't watched a wildfire in at least twice that long.
Like most everything else, the choice ultimately lies with the individual.
Abaddon was subtly asking Seras if she didn't mind pushing the title of goddess of war to the back of her psyche and abstaining from witnessing wars, battles, or genocides for the foreseeable future.
And maybe considering a little therapy as well...
Even though there was not necessarily anything wrong with Abaddon's suggestion, Seras still looked slightly offended.
"These aspects are a part of me, Abaddon... I can't just leave them behind." Seras tried to pull away.
Abaddon held her firmly, yet gently. "I'm not asking you to leave them behind. Just think about changing the way you look at them, and yourself."
"I like being the goddess of war, Abaddon. I like being powerful. I like being strong."
"Power can take so many different forms, my darling. None of them have to look alike."
Seras seemed shaken. Her pupils trembled with an unreadable expression as she stared into her husband's eyes.
"...Are you suggesting this to me because you don't like me the way that I am...?"
Abaddon took her face in his hands and brought their faces close enough to touch each other.
"I worship you the way that you are. You are the light of my life and will be so until there is no longer anything bright in the world beyond us.
I suggest this because I think deep down, you want a change for yourself. You've just never known it, or thought to pursue it."
Seras wasn't sure what to do. Her chest felt tight.
She could feel eyes glossing over every inch of her scales. Watching her. Stalking her. Waiting for exactly the moment she mistakenly showed even the slightest trace of weakness.
Just like that, the fog rolling in over Seras' mind was lifted.
Her voice was more confident and sure of herself.
"…I'm happy the way that I am, Abaddon. There are challenges, but I wouldn't want to change myself. I'm okay."
Seras was feeling better. She could no longer feel the eyes teetering all over her scales or whispering behind her back.
And then she saw the way her husband was looking at her. And her heart broke six different ways.
"After all this time… do you still not understand how much it hurts me when you lie to me like I don't know you..?" he asked.
That small comment was enough to send the waterworks free.
Seras held it in for the first couple of seconds, but eventually, a spring of red tears ran from her eyes. It took all she could muster to keep herself from blubbering.
Seras wasn't a weak woman.
But she did have some very specific weaknesses.
"I-I just, I don't know what I'm doing..! I feel like I'm losing my mind because I just keep having this problem, and it drives this wall between me and everyone else and-"
"Seras." Abaddon held a finger up to her lips. "There's nothing you can do that will put a wall between any of us. Even if you pull away, we will just come that much closer to you."
Seras knew that, of course. It was what she loved about everyone. They made her feel like she was not alone. No matter what.
"I'll ask you again…" Abaddon said slowly. "Do you think that you actually want to be a-"
Abaddon's words cut off when he felt a very familiar ringing.
He extracted his cell phone from his personal dimension and looked at the name flashing across the top.
*Call from 'Thruddie'. Answer?*