UMQOPHI KA DEVELI, Pt. 2

Now filled with creativity and ambition surpassing any, he believed, Isela ran to his agent to tell him about some new pieces he just had to create. However, he found him seated with the local priest, looking dejected and mortified at Isela’s mere presence.
“I need to talk to right away, it’s about,” Isela started, but was cut off by his agent, who looked up at him solemnly.
“What is wrong with you?”
“What do you mean? I’m just excited to share my new ideas with you.”
“Is that all you’d like to share with me?” he asked the sculptor, whose joy was slowly turning into concern.
“Are you…what’s wrong? What did I do?”
“My son,” the elder croaked, “your friend has shared some very disturbing information with me. Now, seeing the outrage a situation of this magnitude may cause, we saw it fit to settle it among ourselves first.”
“What situation? What is it? Why are you being so cryptic?”
 “Tell me, Isela,” he went on, eyes piercing Isela’s soul, “is it blindness or desperation that led you to seek communion with unholy beings?”
“Unholy? What do you mean by that?”
“What did you offer it in exchange for success?”
“I don’t know what…”
“Has it been doing your work this whole time? Have you been lying to everyone about your inspiration?”
“It…ah, you were the one spying on us earlier today, weren’t you?” Isela said, chuckling with relief as he sat down, oblivious to the horrified expressions on the men’s faces.
“How…” his agent began, unable to understand his friend’s cavalier attitude towards this. He crouched at Isela’s feet, placed his hands on the sculptor’s shoulders and spoke softly.
“Is that what you do? Go summon a demon to help you create your marvelous works? Have I been helping someone who has given himself to evil for the sake of greatness?”
“A demon? You barely even know that woman and you already hate her?”
“Woman??” he gasped, his fright a bit amusing to Isela.
“Yes. The one who convinced me to keep going on with my artistry. You shouldn’t be like that towards her, you don’t know how much she’s helped me.”
“I don’t want to know,” he exhaled, eyes still fixed on Isela.
“Don’t worry. She’ll be here shortly. I invited her for dinner.”
“YOU DID WHAT?!” he roared.
“Calm down sir…”
“IN WHO’S HOUSE?!” THAT THING ISN’T SETTING FOOT IN MY HOME!”
“That thing?” Isela started, getting incensed at his unnecessary anger.
“IT’S NOT COMING HERE!” he bellowed, grabbing him by the neck, at which point Isela took both his hands off and pushed him back.
“First of all,” he said, voice slightly raised, “she’s not a thing, she’s a woman. The most beautiful I’ve ever seen. Secondly, you will be good to her over dinner, because if it wasn’t for her, you wouldn’t have all this wealth. Thirdly, and most importantly, I have asked her to be my wife.”
 “Wife!!” they both exclaimed, as the answer to their question came in a soft feminine voice with a low growling, undertone.
“Yes, wife.”