by L M Adams
She rubs my nipple with the pad of her thumb, “I feel majic in these.”
I nod, “Yes, it is a mark for a favor owed.”
“You sold yourself?”
I nod again, “To save Lucien’s life.”
“You love our Raja…”
“Beyond words,” I hum… “Oddly enough, I did this when we were at one of our worst times in our relationship.”
“But this is when you know if your heart song is true. It is easy to love when everything is right, the true test in love is what you are willing to sacrifice when one of you has lost faith.”
“Does that only apply to people you love?”
She looks at me oddly. “It applies to all things… what troubles you, Jaevia?”
I sigh and roll onto my back, “Back home… my time, people hate me. Perhaps even with good reason. I let them hate me, I stopped caring, I stopped being who I was.”
“And this bothers you?”
“I wish that it didn’t, but being here – it makes me wonder about the possibilities if I could somehow get mankind back on the right path.”
“And what path is that?”
“Giving a shit about one another. You all care about each other, those that don’t are reprimanded. In my time a man would never be punished for cheating on his wife. We’re allowed to hurt one another as much as we wish… emotionally at least, there are no consequences for it.”
“When at times those wounds cut the deepest.”
I nod, “Mankind lost something between the now and my time…”
“They lost connection.”
I nod, “But how do you find that again after it has been lost?”
“They lost their connection to the gods, Jaevia. The gods bring about order, they inspire our heart songs… what are a people without the love of their creators, and the commune of power?”
“You all seem to be doing okay without it.”
She shakes her head no, “Look beneath the surface, Jaevia.”
“What do you mean?”
“I will explain to you, after breakfast…” she slides down the bed and sucks my pierced nipple into her warm mouth, chasing away thoughts of the future… the past… until there is only the now and her warm mouth worshipping every inch of this mortal flesh. I love the way our flesh looks together; it reminds me of Lucien’s skin but the way she touches me reminds me of Jack… she is perhaps the best of both worlds – just without a penis.
Nyrobi doesn’t let me return the favor so to speak. I’m not sure if it’s because she thinks I wouldn’t be good at it, or if she wants to let the anticipation build… or if in some way I really am a goddess to her and she’s uncomfortable with me giving.
Either way I’m left in the bed after three toe curling orgasms as she gets up.
She is wonderful to be around. More than just carnal pleasure, she teaches me about so much of what it means to be a succubus, a leader… a woman in power. I never knew how much I needed this kind of friend until now.
I’m relaxed as we let the slaves bathe us, pamper us, dress us. I’m never relaxed with that kind of attention… but being with her lets it all fall away, or perhaps because she seems so natural and confident with it that I can’t help but emulate her.
“Come Jaevia, we will go to the chambers of Ishtar for food.”
I wait for the male slave to finish tying on the black sandals before I stand. She loaned me a beautiful purple dress with gold embroidery, and even a golden arm cuff of Ishtar to match. I feel absolutely queenly. I let one of the slaves braid my hair in cornrows and decorate it with jeweled beads… I feel like myself; yet very much… not.
She smiles at me when I loop my arm in hers and we make our way to the Chamber Ishtar which is something like the Lion’s Den – a gathering space for those that worship the Goddess Ishtar and her ways.
It is not an easy life to be pledged to Ishtar, male or female. There are female slaves, ones that must prove their worth and devotion through sacrifice in the hopes they will receive but a small blessing from Ishtar.
“We all serve, Jaevia.”
“Even you?”
“Even me,” she smiles.
It helps them to remember the heart of a giver, so they are kind as a taker it seems. And helps a more dominant personality to remember balance and kindness to a submissive personality. Remember to temper your power over another to not swallow up all that they are, and all that made you love them in the beginning.
Part of me wonders if Sheba had ever served, if she’d ever known the feel of a lash across her flesh or had her mind torn apart by carnal need and drowned in the depths of sexual depravity.
Something inside of me says no.
Sheba was all unbalanced, she’d take and take and take and never give back in equal measure. Even Ishtar at times would serve, Nyrobi explains.
We stop at one of the paintings. It’s of a woman on her knees… washing a man’s feet.
“Ishtar?” I ask surprised.
“Yes.”
The man she’s tending to, is a slave, he’s sitting on a throne, her throne, but wears the collar of a slave.
“There is a yoke between a Goddess and her servants…”
“What?” I ask confused.
“If would be better to show you,” she pulls back from me and gets to her knees bowing.
I look around… there’s no one about in the corridor…. What has gotten into the woman? “What are you doing?” I hiss.
“Praying to a Goddess,” she murmurs, “calm yourself, Jaevia. See with more than your eyes.”
I close my eyes, opening myself to the now. Do not be concerned with the future – it hasn’t happened yet. Do not be concerned with the past – it is over. There is only here and now and what shall be, shall be. I reach inside of myself, accepting all that I am.
The Succubus.
The Warrior.
The Vampire.
The Slave.
All of me is as complicated as the universe and as a simple as a raindrop.
I feel Nyrobi, I feel the spark inside of her, Anahata – the heart chakra. I open my eyes slowly and see her aura a beautiful blend of pinks and reds… and purple.
Bless me Goddess as your faithful servant, bless me Ishtar that I may spread love in your name and vengeance in your honor. Bless me with clear thought and will so that I may lead your people well.
My own aura radiates out as I have the fleeting thought that I want to give Nyrobi these things. She serves me well, remembers the ways well… and honors me still when so many have forgotten my name.
Purple cloud and haze leaves me, flowing over me and down to her… coating her aura in the power of me.
She looks up at me and her eyes glow purple before settling once again. “Do you understand?”
I nod…
I. Am. Goddess.
She exhales slowly and I watch that same purple haze expel from her lips and flow back up to me… it carries with it peace and love – and the prayer that I will be the Goddess they need… that I will be their Kandaka.
There is a yoke between a Goddess and one who worships her. An exchange of power and will. The divine beings are defined by the prayers of mortals. Their hopes and dreams and even fears give us form.
“But…” I whisper as she stands, “I never wanted people to worship me.”
“Then be a Goddess worthy of that worship and love.”
Being with her gives me a lot to think about. What kind of queen I want to be, succubus, woman… wife. She’s open about her relationships, where she feels she fails her mates, and the things about herself she is most proud of. Her fears for her people and the direction they’re headed in.
She is the strongest follower of Ishtar that her people have… but she is not a scion, she is not a representative of Ishtar’s love and might on earth and there hasn’t been one since Ishtar blessed Zahra with her love.
She didn’t say it in her prayer…. She didn’t have to. She wants me, u
s to stay.
By the time we reach the Chamber of Ishtar, I’m more infatuated with Nyrobi than I was before and consider staying even though I know I shouldn’t. I’m not sure if it’s because I’ve got a total girl-crush going, or not. But I plan to enjoy every minute of this time… come what may.
The place for the Ishtars is very different than the den for the Atums. Much like Nyrobi’s private chambers, the place is designed for comfort, for art and beauty.
No one is naked, I think that’s frowned upon in the common area, no need to wave it all around so to speak? But people are close to one another, lounging on large pillows, talking, reading, playing games. There’s even a person walking around playing some sort of flute. Others are molding clay or painting… it is a pursuit of arts all around.
“Wow,” I whisper.
She laughs, “Yes, most people think it will be all chains and whips – but in truth, the Chamber of Ishtar is the place a person comes to when they are not sure about who they are.”
“What do you mean?”
“Everyone’s heart song isn’t always apparent, some need guidance. We help them discover what they wish…”
“You tell them their heart’s desire?”
She nods, “Yes.”
I had no idea my power could be used like this, to help people discover who they were or who they want to be. Yet it makes sense. I’ve been able to read a heart’s desire since I was twelve and first came into my power. But it’s always been focused on sex or at best, revenge… could it have always been more, and I just didn’t know how to use it?
Nyrobi guides me over to a grouping of pillows and we sit down with one another. A small round table is in front of us with small platters of meat, fruit, cheese and dark bread.
I learn so much just by sitting and talking with Nyrobi, I learn so much about my own heart song.
107
Jaevia – Ma’Zean
“There Jaevia,” Nyrobi whispers.
I turn to look at who’s just entered the chamber of Ishtar – whoever it is… she’s a beautiful woman, smooth dark skin, leggy with nice tits, a bit small, but still nice. She has her hair done in bantu knots, large gold earrings hang from her lobes, accentuating her ridiculously long and graceful neck.
She’s tall, six feet easily, wearing an all-black long dress that hugs her slender form and yet seems to flow gently. Her body is muscled, nicely defined, and the way she holds herself makes me think she’s more than a pretty piece – she’s also a warrior.
More than anything, however, I feel her magic… her power and it feels familiar. A deep ache fills my breasts as my nipples squeeze around their silver piercings.
“Who is she?” I ask quietly.
“Malia, a worshipper of Sekhmet, the first of her daughters. Her mantle is the lioness, even if she is not a…. therian?”
Horror and realization fill me, I know who she is… or rather who she will become. I know of her majic… she will become the Goddess of Death, the leader of the Ma’Zean.
I met her… or rather her power; in a place called Katabási, on Ra’suá… or rather in Ra’suá. It is a land deep underground, a fully self-contained eco-system. There the High Priestess of the Night and the Holy Ones have a temple, Akert. There the walls moved with the souls of the dead, the etemmu. There I laid on her bed of horrors and made love to death itself and swore myself to her for a favored owed, to save Lucien’s life. Even my soul remembers that debt.
But how did these people go from this… to that? How do you go from being filled with so much life… to being consumed by so much death?
I notice how people steer clear as Malia and her company move to a corner of the room. Her head held high as if she’s looking down on all of us.
“Do the Ishtars and the Sekhmets not like one another?”
“It is… complicated, sister.”
“Why?”
“Ra and Sekhmet, they are… hmmm. Like brother and sister? In majic, yes? Not in lineage – the worshippers of Sekhmet believe Ra should be with one of them, that their most powerful daughter should always be first wife to Raja… but they make do with the tribute of one born daughter every cycle; even if the Raja does not marry one of them.”
“What do you mean, tribute of a daughter?”
She shrugs, “One of them is chosen to lay with the incarnation of Ra… with a child of Ishtar’s blessing… a child is consummated and that child, a daughter always, reaffirms the pledge between the Sons of Ra and the Daughters of Sekhmet.”
“What pledge?”
“The daughters are the protectors of Ra, of the lands, of Atum, Isis and Ishtar – they are warriors, the holders of the eye – and so they protect our lands from harm.”
I sigh, “I thought the therians did that.”
She nods, “The daughters of Sekhmet predate the therians and so they served the peoples well. But when the faithful fell, the gods we’d loved fell and some turned their anger to the peoples; the daughters refused to fight back. Refused to kill the gods and in doing so, turned away from the people and broke covenant.”
“Why?” I ask in a whisper.
“They believed in the purity of the balance. They believed the people should welcome their rebirth if so Creation decreed… not try and cheat time. They disagreed with Ishtar that we should fight back. When they refused to come to the aid of the people, the goddess Ishtar decreed upon a third of the men of Atum the blessing of rage, made them lust for violence, yes?”
I nod.
“But all things must be done in balance, and so she also gave the children of Isis the power to control those men…”
“The Paxi,” I whisper.
She nods, “That is their name in your time?”
I nod.
“Apedemak was the first king of those men and he fell in love with the most powerful of those from Isis…”
“Zahra… Lucien’s mother.”
She nods again, “And he so loved her, and he refused the bed of Malia.”
Goddess…
“War raged, for centuries it raged. The daughters of Sekhmet, after seeing the slaughter and the sheer destruction, knew then that the war between the gods, between the peoples would end all things. So it would come to pass, they agreed upon the plan to separate the worlds… to give godkind and the people time to change, grow, perhaps forget old pains. They star walked and helped in the creation of your Ra’suá. They did not wish it so… but even less they wish to see all things destroyed, all gods, all peoples. There can be no rebirth if there is nothing left.”
“I know how hard it is just making choices when all the choices are bad…”
Nyrobi nods, “It is difficult being a queen, yes?”
I sigh, “Have they made up with the people?”
She hums, “That is complicated sister. Soon after peace was established… people became angry, our majic was mostly gone, changed very much. Still we were told to pray and hold faith and we did… for many, many years we did; but still, anger grew.”
“The therians?”
She nods, “The therians wished to change things and their hearts were poisoned by the war, even with the help of the Paxi – it is hard to make a man’s heart turn from war when it is all he has known for so long. After their betrayal, the daughters of Sekhmet took up the mantle again, but the commune is not right, the rift is still there. More and more of the peoples believe perhaps that the daughters of Sekhmet were right in the first place – that we should not have imprisoned the gods, that we should have found another way – for what is life without our heart songs? What is life without our majics?”
I love having magic, I even love being a succubus, which was a long journey for me… but I’m not sure I would risk my life to keep it. Or if I would release the gods of old just to be a succubus… not if it meant the end of all things.
Yet I am a daemon, or mostly, kind of, sort of – we don’t need the gods and goddesses for magic. It is easy to sit on a throne and judge a beg
gar.
“Many argue over who broke covenant – the daughters when they refused to fight the gods, or the Raja when he refused to bed Malia.”
“Why are they here now?”
“We all know the end is coming, hmm? The power of our lands has been weakening ever since the daemon born took the gods to keep. The people are losing their majic and they are scared. Some say it has been long enough and the Kindred should free the gods so a new choosing may happen.”
“Has Apedemak done anything to fix it? Try to contact the Kindred?”
She shakes her head no, “It is too late, too much has been done and our Raja retreated from the world to mourn and so he has been mourning ever since – heartsick. The return of the Raja gives much hope. Some people wish to see the rift between the Daughters of Sekhmet and the Sons of Ra closed… some will believe it is your Lucien’s duty to renew the bond between them.”
“When you say renew the bond…”
“Give Malia a daughter, Lucien shall be the next incarnation of Ra – so it is written so it shall be.”
I huff, “Even if I believe he’s the next incarnation… still not happening, Lucien doesn’t lay with other women.”
“Because you do not allow him?”
“No!” I shout not wishing to seem like I control them that much – I’m okay with outside fun… but that’s it fun! In Lucien’s case it’s never really been a concern, “He’s literally never wanted anyone but me, no other woman.”
She nods, “This may be true, sister. But can you say he will feel the same if giving Malia a child will save his people? Is this not a worthy sacrifice?”
I sigh, not responding. The thought of Luey being with another woman, it’s always been okay to me. I know I would be loved above all others. But a child? Lucien having a child by another woman? I know I would lose a part of his heart… a part of his heart I always thought would be mine.
108
Jack - Swords
Henenu wants to take Lucien into the city and to the metal workers guild. Lucien has invited me. I’d rather curl up in bed and mourn my life. But I’m supposed to be happy, I have to make sure Lucien knows I’m happy, otherwise, what have I done?
