Read Paragenesis: Stories of the Dawn of Wraeththu Online
Authors: Storm Constantine
Tags: #angels, #magic, #wraeththu, #storm constantine, #androgyny, #wendy darling
I was in shock and couldn’t
think of a reason to refuse. We both stood. He took me in his arms
and kissed me. His body felt like malleable iron. His breath flowed
like fog into my lungs, spreading throughout my body, finishing
with a crack of lightning. He shredded me.
Then, he did the same with
Kithara, taking a long time about it, somewhat to my consternation.
Thiede was the consummate seducer. When he was done, Kithara looked
as dazed as I felt, but colour had returned to his face.
Thiede stepped away from us and
said, “Now, I leave you with another question. Was I really here?”
He smiled, sly as a cat. And then he winked out. It was as if his
body suddenly attenuated into a thin line and then disappeared
through some kind of dimensional doorway.
“Close your mouth, Janus.”
Kithara laughed.
“What the hell was that?”
“I’ve given up trying to figure
out Thiede. He’s a law unto himself,” Kithara replied.
“He’s a bastard! Tell me I’m
supposed to be happy about discovering that he’s responsible for my
parents’ death, my brother’s abduction, and my horrid deformity.
Healing me now is small return for all that he’s put me
through!”
“Yes, that’s true,” Kithara
said unexpectedly. “I’m not too thrilled about him abandoning me to
a maniac with a cattle prod and a kink for hermaphrodites either.
You have to understand, he’s not playing in the same sandbox as the
rest of us. It’s not that he doesn’t care. He does, but he’s...
well, it’s hard to explain. I love him and I hate him, but it makes
no difference. He’s beyond my reach. So, here’s what I think. You
can focus on your hatred and pain or you can move on and revel in
your new body.”
It made a certain amount of
sense. Kithara usually did. Besides, a terrible, aching need was
building inside me. I moved into his embrace, feeling him mould
against me. His blood thundered in my veins. We shared breath.
“Mmmm, that’s lovely,” Kithara
sighed. “Remember what I said about needing aruna to make permanent
the changes inside you?”
Aruna. The very name seemed to
call me, beckoning with cool fingers. My insides were jangling,
like cats climbing over each other in anticipation of dinner.
“Harish sex. Yes, of course, how could I forget that?”
“Come.” He took my hand. “I’ll
introduce you to the gift of the Wraeththu. This will make up for
all that agony. I promise.”
Steaming hot water felt
desperately good against my skin. The bathtub in the master bedroom
was huge and fit both of us perfectly. I rested in Kithara’s arms
as he washed my hair. He kept leaning over, sharing breath with me.
It sent shivers throughout my being, as intoxicating as a hit of
choi. I wanted him to keep doing that forever, but I was nervous. A
virgin in every sense.
“Don’t be nervous, Janus. Here,
look.” His soapy hand descended, wrapped about what used to be my
cock. Tiny sparks darted upward from my groin. I looked away and he
laughed. “You’ve seen one before. That night in my trailer. God,
you made me horny then. Did you know?”
“I saw yours, not mine. It’s a
little different. I’m rather attached to my dick the way it was.
Pun intended.”
He chuckled. “This is even
better. Look how beautiful you are!”
I cracked an eye and stared
through the wavering water at what he had captured in his hand. It
was strange and wonderful, long and lean, a feathered shaft,
pulsing with colours, opalescent scarlet and gold.
“Oh,” I said softly.
“Yes, indeed. I want that deep
inside me.” He climbed into my lap and gave me that dazzling smile
that had first won my heart, although I’d been too stupid to
realize it at the time. Then he bent forward, taking my mouth with
his. My insides writhed and purred. We rubbed against each other,
sloshing water all over the floor.
“I really hope the owners of
the house don’t show up. This could be very awkward,” I said with a
laugh.
“Silly,” Kithara replied
between kisses. “Thiede owns this house.”
“Really? I’m not even
surprised. I think my wonder-circuit has blown a fuse.”
“Mmm, yeah. He’s been buying
places around the country. Safe houses for hara to gather. It’s a
movement, Janus, and you’re part of it now.”
“What if I don’t want to be
part of it? What if I just want to lie here and make love to
you?”
“For now, I’ll accept that,” he
said. “You’re so goddamned beautiful. I want to lick you all over.”
And he proceeded to do just that.
“Mmm, you’re making me all
tingly.”
“I’m going to do much more than
make you tingly. Did you ever get so stoned that when you came, you
thought your head would explode?”
“You are the biggest fucking
tease. Please, Kithara, I...”
“Good. That’s the way I want
you. Nice and desperate.” He stood with a rush of water, and
climbed out of the tub. When I followed, he captured me in a towel,
gently drying me, stopping to bite my neck, to kiss my chest. I
clung to him, laughing.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,”
I said.
“Don’t worry, I do.” He winked.
“First some vocabulary. See that? I’m ouana right now. Strangely,
so are you. You need to think differently from a human now, Janus.
Embrace your female side, your soume side.” He pressed his hand
against me, sliding a finger deep within, and hitting something
that sent a pulse of pleasure through my loins. I shivered. Slowly
he pumped the finger in and out, sparking more delights, while we
shared breath, drinking each other’s souls, until I was shaking in
anticipation. Then, he took me by the hand, led me to the bed and
laid me down upon it. He climbed on top, hovering over me. “This is
what it means to be Wraeththu,” he whispered, and pierced me with a
sudden gentle violence that wracked my whole being in a shriek of
joy.
“How does that feel?” He
laughed.
“God!” was all I could
manage.
“That’s about right,” he said.
“It’s divine fire.” He began to move, each thrust triggering a
higher level of pleasure. I began to gasp. He said, “I’m going to
open you up like this for a while, until you’re sore and delirious,
then we share breath, like this.” He bent down and exhaled into my
mouth. His breath danced into me, turning into a whirlwind of
scarlet and ivory blossoms. I returned the patter of a rainstorm,
the beauty of a panther’s leap. He kept an unerring rhythm that
slowly became more and more intense until I was screaming,
writhing, and clawing at him. “This is what I wanted to do to you
that night in my trailer,” he said.
“Oh god, please Kithara, it’s
so, it’s so...” I moaned. He paused and I thought I would lose my
mind. “If you stop, I’ll kill you.”
He laughed softly. “Now that
we’ve scaled the heights, we dive off the cliff.”
“I’m on the brink,” I
panted.
“Hold on, I’ve got you. We’ll
take the plunge together.”
Deep within, I felt his
lion-tamer’s whip snap at a nerve that sparked and exploded, the
pieces flying outward like stars of sizzling crimson and gold. “Oh
fuck, fuck,” I cried, overwhelmed, tumbling over and over in waves
of pleasure. He continued moving, playing me out. The sparks
drifted to earth, sinking with soft hisses into a vast lake.
For a long time I lay stunned,
floating in that lake while the air filled with sparkling crystals,
thrumming in my ears like tiny gongs. It was better than any
choi-induced hallucination and I wondered: had I really died last
night lying on a bloody shower curtain and was I now in heaven,
healed and whole, with the lover of my dreams? What price must I
pay for this? His thoughts were mine, his warmth pervading the air
all around me.
Indeed your old self has died,
he hummed,
that is the price. You are reborn now, better, stronger. You are
Wraeththu
.
I am Wraeththu.
Kithara rolled off me, pressing
against my side, purring like a cat. I finally found my voice. “I
can’t imagine that sex as a human would have been anything close to
that.”
“Trust me, it’s not,” Kithara
said. He kissed my shoulder. “That was sizzling hot. You’re a
natural talent. The first time is like going to the fair and taking
a really scary wild ride. Nothing quite beats it, but I’ve found
every time is unique and just as wonderful. Something to look
forward to, huh?” He sat up, punched a pillow, and stuck it behind
his head. “My shoulder still hurts and I really want a fuckin’
cigarette right now.”
“Are you unusually good at
that? Aruna, I mean? Because it was just... wow.”
He grinned at me. “Yeah, I am.
Lucky you.”
“What was Thiede saying about a
massive ego?”
He hit me with the pillow. We
laughed and wrestled for a while until I had him pinned and was
staring into those electric blue eyes. He relaxed, unresisting,
inviting, and began flexing his hips against mine. Looking at his
just-tumbled beauty, lips kiss-swollen, a ruddy glow painting his
cheeks, wild, platinum-coloured hair cascading about his shoulders,
I wanted to pull him inside me and never let go. “Kithara, I need
to ask you something.”
“I’m not stopping you.”
“Did you mean it back in your
trailer when you said you thought I was beautiful, even though I
was burned? Or was that just part of Thiede’s master plan to turn
me har?”
He reached up, stroked a finger
along the scar on my cheek, the reminder of my past. “Yes and yes.
When I first saw you, it was like seeing a glorious rose hit by an
untimely blight. I could see your pain and your beauty; both called
to me. I had the distinct feeling that we were destined to become
lovers.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“Do you think you would have
received the news well, at the time?” He chuckled. His finger
drifted across my mouth.
I laughed. “Probably not, but
when I met you, I also sensed that the cosmic dice were
rolling.”
“I told you that you are
gifted. Thiede knew it long ago,” he said.
“Now what, Kithara? Do we go
back to Carmine City? I don’t know if I want to join a gang of
mutants wrecking havoc everywhere.”
His hand moved down my arm,
caressing. “Don’t think about it now. Give the transformation time.
All we need to do right now is make love to each other. Speaking of
which,” he slapped my rear playfully, “your turn to be ouana.”
“Ouana? So, how do I make
it...?”
“That’s easy. Relax and it’ll
happen.” He continued rocking his hips under me creating a gentle
friction until the throbbing between my legs unfurled into a
crimson sword.
“Payback time,” I said, and he
laughed.
Fumbling at first, I found what
I sought and thrust. He yelped, arching his back, eyes rolling
upward. I paused a moment, wondering if I’d hurt him. Our eyes met
and he chewed his lower lip, panting gently. “Take me,” he
said.
Oh god! I took him hard,
feeling a crackling storm of sensation throughout my being, like
nothing I’d ever felt before. A purging fire. We breathed in each
other’s light, entangling our souls, which glowed and expanded to
fill the universe.
In the end, he thoroughly
converted me. If we are what we hate, we are what we love even
more. In the shelter of his passion, I arose like a phoenix from
the ashes of my former self and became beautiful and terrifying. I
am Janus, god of doorways and beginnings, standing at the threshold
of history, eying a painful past and a stormy future. Whatever
comes, I am content, knowing that I had this perfect time with him
in my arms. A week we stayed at
Tranquility Base
, drunk on
aruna, until Thiede summoned us, and like good soldiers, we
came.
Now, dressed in black leather,
I ride, pressed behind Kithara on our bike, my arms wrapped about
his waist, our hair mingling black and white in the wind of our
speed – burning into the future.
Martina Luise Pachali
Things are bright now, mostly,
and we look hopefully into the future. Stories have happy endings,
and the lost come home at last. But my home is lost forever now,
and I can never go back there. Never. Because it’s called Immanion
these days.
You didn’t think they put
Immanion on top of some rundown human tourist resort, did you? Or
on an empty promontory with no meaning? No, they built it on the
site of one of humanity’s old holy places, where one religion had
replaced the other for millennia. The very rocks were steeped in
aeons of belief.
And I’m one of the last humans
ever to live and pray there, one of the very few yet young enough
to be incepted into Wraeththu when they came and took over. I’m
Yannis, which is the name my mother called me by. I had so many
mystical and meaningful names given to me at the mystical and
meaningful changes imposed on me throughout my life, I didn’t
really know who I was any more at some stage, so that’s why I went
back to my oldest, shortest and least holy name. I’ve had it with
holiness.
My people were farmers and
fishermen on the coast of what now is Almagabra, and I grew up with
my siblings and cousins in the wild surf, helping with the boats
and the harvest when called upon, but otherwise left to our own
devices, as the children of our family had been since time out of
mind. You see, my mother and her sisters were among the few women
still fertile after all the evil things that had been done to the
sea and the earth by humanity. They fairly revelled in pregnancies:
the world must be peopled, and if necessary, by them alone, so it
seemed.
But when one more of the
endless tidal waves of war and catastrophe swept towards us, my
mother and her sisters decided to send her youngest sons to safety
to live with our uncles and cousins who were monks on the holy
mountain.