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Authors: Amileigh D'Lecoire

BOOK: The Awakening
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~I~

 

             
It was late when Aramis finally made his way to the main temple, the sun already beginning to slip beneath the waves as dusk settled in.  Voices mingled and caressed against the breeze as everyone gathered upon blankets and pillows all along the gentle slope of the small hill in anticipation of the night

s festivities.  The
Dance of Serpentine
would be powerful and moving
,
and already the air was laced with an undercurrent of excitement
as the wine began to soften the edges of the day, allowing his priests and priestesses to forgo usual formalities as they lounged among one another contentedly.  The aroma of the food was enticing and he allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction at the perfection of the evening. 

             
 
“My Lord,” voices murmured as he passed by, and he nodded in return, feeling their eyes on him, hearing the
rushed
sounds
of their thoughts before he
remembered to
block them
.  This was no
t a
night for prying when no crime had been committed.  The
F
estival of
Azurete’
was a time of coming together, of trust in one another, of life and love.  Unless he sensed a threat, he had no desire to know their thoughts this night, preferring instead to allow them their privacy.

             
And so he continued along, lulled into contentment after having sated his more carnal appetites
for a time
, and satisfied to walk among those who lived here, worked here, served here and loved one another here
,
without need for notice or acknowledgement.  The air smelled of sea and rain, and as he breathed deep he allowed his mind to clear itself of
all distraction, that he might call
the perfection of her face
to appear before him once more.
  She
was unlike any he had ever seen;
had
felt unlike any he had ever
touched, and for the first time in centuries he felt a genuine rush of anticipation
simply a
t the t
h
ought of seeing her again. 

             
He
had not tried earlier
to hide that h
e was an
xious to meet their new arrival, and Dante
had thrown him a sleepy, Cheshire-like grin as Aramis had left him and Galadria
to go for a walk about to clear his thoughts
.  N
o doubt
Dante was
going to enjoy watching
him
squirm for once
.  His
priest
was really
so much more than just a priest – he was a dear and cherished friend
– which also meant that he enjoyed the sport of
poking the bear on occasion
, just
to see him growl.

             
But Aramis did not care;
let Dante have his fun.  Aramis
needed to see that she was well and alive
, even though his very soul told him that she was
.
T
he distance between them
made no difference -
h
e could feel the
pounding of her pulse
as blood
rushed
through her veins,
could recognize
the
tangy
sweetness of her upon the
air that flowed around him. 
She was his, completely, and while he would do his best to ease her slowly into his world, he would not pretend with her that he wanted anything less than
to have
her beside him as h
is mate.  It would be pointless
because she, too, would feel it.  She
would know the taste of
their fate
and understand.

             
Wouldn’t she?

             
He paused for a moment, stunned by the unfamiliar feeling of uncertainty that suddenly nibbled at his ego, then continued on.

             
It was not easy being him, and this equivocal thought made him laugh derisively at the absurdity of it.  But in truth, being a God
really
was no easy thing.  Ce
rtainly he was
of a race that had been
misunderstood and misrepre
sented over time.  There were Gods of War and Gods of Peace, Gods of Love and Prosp
erity, and others like himself -
Gods of Virility and Fertility.  There were Goddesses born to Gods
(human or Goddess, it mattered not as all power flowed from Creator through his sons),
and there were Goddesses raised up from a mortal life to bond to Gods, thus giving them many of the same powers.  There were realms within realms that made up the Wheel of Time,
each with their own Gods and Goddesses who ruled, 
all of which ultimately came to answer to the Creator himself, of which there was only one.
 

             
And as if their somewhat convoluted hierarchy and history w
ere
not bad enough, b
eing a God came with great responsibilit
y.  T
hose of the mortal plane who sought to serve a God had to be nurtur
ed and cared for like
children;
for it was their faith that ultimately
gave strength
and power
to the God they served.
Likewise, they had to be chastised and corrected when they used poor judgment, sometimes harshly, and always, always there were those whose bond was so close to the
ir
God
they served
,
that they were brought to serve among the
very
heavens
themselves
.  (‘heavens’ of course being a woefully lacking term used to try and define the infinite stretch of time and space that made up the fabric of existence)
.

             
Of course, there were
, unfortunately, those Gods like
h
is
b
rother Hippolyte, as well;
 
Gods of darkness who embraced greed and vanity,
and who delighted in fostering bitterness and discord

They seduced and deceived mortal men and women into service
and led them to what many
found to be their hell when the
time came to cross over into the afterlife.  It could be called a service of purgatory, to some degree, until
such time as the Creator passed
final judgment
on a soul, to see if it
had
been redeemed.  The good news
was that these tended to be lesser Gods who – surprisingly – did not lust for power near so much as the
y
lusted for the bodies and souls of the unfortunate who served the
ir
vile and
dangerous
addictions to flesh and blood
.  Still
,
they presented their own problems and could not be overlooked, for they
took great pride
in
being quarrelsome and unpredictable.

             
Bu
t enough of these thoughts, he chided himself
with a mental shake.  What mattered tonight were the celebrations, the gifts of life and love
-
and the bewitching smile of a woman
who had
reached out across an ocean of time to soothe his restless spirit
.
  Enjoying the hum of desire that caressed him at the thought of her, he closed his eyes and began to whisper quietly, allowing the winds to envelope him and carry him to where she was.  He was weary of walking, he was weary of waiting.  He had waited an eternity for her, and he would not be put off another moment from having her by his side.

 

 

~ II ~

 

             
The night was alive with emotion, and Thais could feel the beauty of it as it flowed through and around her.  She had never experienced anything like it, the power and pull of sensual love and sacred hope that these people all
had
a genuine belief in the right of existence and the tolerance of being.  All seemed harmonious and united here, a respect for all that the Creator had breathed into being, and above all else an almost zealous, certainly spiritual, and decidedly physical need to be close to the one they loved above all else
, save the Creator himself
.

             
Aramis.

             
She watched as all around men and women began to move towards one another, noting the subtle shift in mood as laughter began to fade into softened sighs, and strong hands began to move with slow, more intimate caresses along the delicacy of female flesh.  Her eyes danced with awareness, their inquisitive depths glistening in the light of the large fire whose flames now danced and licked along the darkening edges of night from within the large pit below.  She was fascinated by all that she was experiencing, and – for the first time in her life – was becoming aroused in a way that only a woman could ever really explain, feeling an odd anticipation that she did not
completely
understand or recognize.

             
“She is very beautiful,” Dominic whispered, leaning in to speak the words softly against
Vardra
’s ear.  She shivered at the unexpected c
loseness of him, swallowed hard,
and then nodded.

             
“She is, yes.  Her spirit is bright, and I can feel so much of the Creator’s light within that I think she would seem beautiful even if covered in warts and having no teeth at all.” 

             
Dominic laughed and reached out to gently push back a stray curl that had escaped its braid and now teased at her nose.  How was it that had he never noticed her before, he wondered, and he felt more than heard her breath catch at his touch.  He had enjoyed the time they had spent together this evening, finding her to be quick witted and with an enchanting sense of humor that was odd and decidedly offbeat.  She was vibrant and
naïve
and her child-like excitement at the world around her made her seem, in some ways, as innocent and fresh as their new guest.  She was incredibly beautiful, tall and strong in the way of her ancestors before her, and he knew without her having told him that she struggled with self-doubt, thinking herself a monstrosity of feminine form because of her height and strength.

             
And he had never found any one more beautiful than her at that moment.

             
“I can see why it is that Aramis tasked you with being sister and guide to our new arrival,” he heard himself saying, and she looked at him
, eyes
wide
with wonder at his comment.

             
“You approve of his choice?” she aske
d with a tentative smile.  She studied
him through her lashes, trying not to stare, but it was near impossible.  He was the only other male on this island who could be said to rival their Lord in looks and sexuality.  As Aramis’ top priest, he was also surrounded day and night by some of the most beautiful of priestesses
,
who waited always with eager
hearts and bodies to serve him.  S
o she could not understand why it was that he was looking
at her in such a way this night.

             
And then the music began to grow slow and rhythmic, the beating of the drums
keeping time with
the pulsing rhythm of life as it flowed and coursed with heated need through them all. 

             
That was it
!  Now
Vardra
understood.  The Dance of Serpentine had begun, a
nd the very air around began to feel warm and fluid, a heated salve of
sexual tension
that beckoned and enticed
.  Once caught within the intricate weave of need caused by
the celebrations, Dominic was no different than any of them
, a vessel to the desires of creation.  It was not her he looked at with such need, but rather the cherished beauty of feminine
form and mystique
she represented
.  H
e was driven to both celebrate and consume her for the gift of life she was capable of giving.

             
“What an amazing night!”  Thais exclaimed as she finished the last of her wine.  Dominic smiled when she spoke, reminded of her presence, but still his eyes held
Vardra
’s as he replied.

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