The SummoningsteemCreated with Sketch.

in #writing7 years ago (edited)

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The chamber vibrated with the sound of chanting. One hundred hooded men maybe more, heads bowed, repeated the summoning. Their voices rose and fell in an ancient rhythm, shifting tone and time until her head felt light, and her heart beat too hard, too fast, like a bird trapped under cloth and unable to escape.

At last.

Xara walked down the long corridor toward the betrothal chamber, barefoot on the smooth black stones, red silk whispering against her skin. Light from the wall sconces flickered in the empty passageway, dancing jagged shadows on the rough hewn walls and tangling darkness in the yellow flowers twisted into her raven hair.

He waited, her betrothed. Only the strongest would suffice. The prettiest specimen. The stoutest among them. It wasn’t fair he might die. Most of them did.

If I could warn him.

But it was already too late. They would have lashed him to a thin fiber mattress on the black stone bed. Rubbed his skin with herbs tied with horsehair till his flesh lay pink and pure. Until he was scraped bald, plucked, pulled, and sanitized for her needs. Her path, her destiny--led to that uncomfortable bed fashioned out of rock and stone. Made for just one thing. Her heart lurched within her body. She never had sex before. How could this be right?

She moved lightly towards the wedding chamber. Her footsteps printed ghostly halos on the cold floor. Each breath trailed behind, misty white. For thousands of years, the pattern remained the same. A queen would rise from within the sisterhood. One genetically perfect woman. She alone could preserve the bloodline and the power with it. And she needed a consort.

From the corridor, she could see the foot of the ceremonial bed. His bare feet were visible, spreadeagled, tied to the bedposts.

Once his mind was broken, he would have to be trained. To listen, to learn. To do as he was told. To protect, defend. Until she grew old. To walk with her, die for her. Lend her his arms. Give his breath for her, give his heart to her. Surrender to her charms.

He would be her possession.

Closer now. His body naked on white linen. He was young. His chest broad. His manhood asleep. Nice strong jaw. Thick black hair. Eyes closed, he breathed gently.
Such a waste of a perfect man. Her skin broke out in gooseflesh. He would never know, never understand what happened to him. One day he would have been normal. The next, he would lose his mind. His memories. His place on this earth, his purpose and his reason.

Think Xara, this isn’t right. Even though the sisterhood insists their way is just, no one should possess another.

She’d heard the legends. Of surrendering to the spirit world. Of opening herself to the universe and the universe becoming part of her. She had to be careful; she could break him.

The summoning grew louder. The sound vibrated inside her body. She felt her heart beat. Felt the silken caress of air as it moved through her. Louder and louder the chanting grew.

He lay before her, beautiful and pure. Fashioned by God’s own hand, but his future lay in hers. She untied the straps of the dress. It slid from her shoulders to the floor in a silent rush. Naked, she climbed astride him. This was her destiny. She could no longer resist.

Chanting. Voices becoming indistinct. Becoming the noises of the earth. Of grass growing wild in forest fields. Slither of snakes. Caw of crows. Voices of thunderclouds, sharp hiss of lightening clawing jagged white against black night. Waves crashing. Falling. Seabirds wheeling. Volcanos erupting. Winds screaming down mountain passes laden with snow and ice.

It filled her body, filled her heart. Filled her mind. She moved with the sounds. Sensuously, sinuously, as if possessed by serpent spirits. She let the wordless chant take her. Lift her from her body, shed like red silk on the black stone floor.
Her eyes filled with fire, drawn from the volcano gods erupting inside her. Blazed hot red and orange. Split vertically by the blackness of earth, the color of midnight.

He moved beneath her. Still asleep but unable to tarry in restless dreams. His body awoke before his mind could follow. She felt his manhood rise beneath her. Her body trembled. Her eyes darted around the room. She bent backward, the universe pounded through her in eruptions that made her writhe and gasp uncontrollably.

I can’t do this, he’s an innocent.

When he entered her, everything stopped. For a moment, complete silence filled the room. A burst of light parted the raging storms inside her. She felt her mind expand, past her writhing body, past the columns and paving stones around the keep. Further, faster, past the clouds, smashing through the blue sky, until she saw the empty blackness of space broken by the twinkle of cold white stars. Her eyes fluttered. Sweat poured from her skin. Bathed her body, darkened the sheets around them. She groaned out loud, pleasure and pain thundering through her body; her last ties to reality.

Raw power filled her, more than she could take. More than any human was designed to bear. It scorched fiery paths along her nerves. Her eyes burned, her breath molten lava. A scream dragged from the last vestiges of her sanity filled the room, one voice, two, then too many; howling from her vocal chords, straining them to bursting. She could take no more. She felt her body change. Become.

Why not share the power?

The thought came to her unbidden. It blinked across her consciousness and vanished away. Lost in the blinding surge. Share the power of the sisterhood? Then they would no longer rule. Thousands of years, no one thought to share it? What use was power if it corrupted ? If it enslaved? If it hurt more than it healed?

She opened her heart to the unconscious man. She could sense him beneath her. A lost thing. Human like her. Lost in the collective.

No more.

Laughter burst from her lips. The storm twisted from her into him. His eyes shot open, filled with raging fire. His body trembled. Battered and changing from within. When he moved within her it was as if her universe shifted. Her mind broke free from its moorings, left everything she knew behind. Nothing remained but their elemental coupling. The only sound, the grating and snapping of the stone bed beneath them as it ground into dust.

When it was over, they slept.
Now he was hers. And she was his.

The sisterhood would be furious.


Hi guys, I was working on a story and then I found @gmuxx's competition. I ended up rewriting the story because I got a different vibe from the inspiration pic. Hope you all enjoy the tale. For my friends on discord, thanks for letting me hang in the coolest chat room on the net.
Hugs.
J.

Image courtesy Pixabay


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This is amazing. So glad I found you through that spotlight interview. I can't wait to read more of your work.

Thank you friend, I really appreciate you taking the time to read. Sadly, too few actually read my stuff; I'm happy you did. Stick around, smiling. I'll keep writing if I know at least some folk read.
Hugs.
J.

Sigh She called me friend. ;-)

How did this not go viral on Steemit? How is this not valued at hundreds of dollars at least? This is perfection! I'm following you right away. Wow. Breathless right now 👏

Thanks for your kind words friend. Who knows what people like anymore? Smiling. I write junk, I get votes. I write something exciting. Nada. Wet fizzle. Sound of crickets.
I'm happy you enjoyed the post. You might be the only one. Not sure I want to keep writing them though. Frustrating.
Sigh.
Jhagi.

This is so intense, it's brilliant.

Why thank you Ms. EllieVallie. It's not just me writing. There's a group of writers on Steemit; we all work together to bring the best we can to the reader. You can find us at fiction-workshop on discord or follow us @sft.
Hugs.
And thanks again for your kind words.
J.

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This is beautiful. Touching, moving..... Just perfection.

Thanks Bex. You're a real treasure. A light in caverns full of steem. Smiling.
J.

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A very nice story. I like the flow and rhythm.

Thank you DBZ. I'm working on making my writing better. I really appreciate you taking the time to read. Smiling. I'll try to keep the quality up.
Hugs.
Jhagi.

I definitely think you have what it takes to hone the craft; but then again, I think almost everyone has what it takes if they truly made the effort. I think you can rise above many with your style.

Smiling. I will try. It's getting hard for old eyes to focus on tiny fonts but, I'll try
Hugs.
J.

Just expand the fonts :D I do it all the time, zoom is my friend.

You have a great way of summoning visuals and a serene flow.

Thanks JasonBu. I'm trying. Smiling. Writing is work. Sometimes it's hard to face the blank page.
Haven't been myself lately. Will try to keep the words coming.
Hugs.
J.

The rhythm of your writing is so easy for me to read. Similar to the ocean tides, it coaxes me near, wets my feet, then washes me out to sea...

Smiling. Very kind of you Nexy... When your peers appreciate your efforts, there's no feeling like it.
Uber hugs.
Jhagi.

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