Chapter 6
Swirling continuously the miniature globe in her palms, Lavender laughed mischievously with her eyes closed, sitting astride, stark naked on her mat, filled with beads of different types and variant colors of candles ranging in different shapes and sizes. She seemed in the middle of a session with the goddess. She continued her incantation in delirium, with no idea of anything going on in her surroundings. For she was outside, her mat stretched on top a hill, at its peak, with her face towards the moon, for it was full and heavy with its brightness illuminating through the woods, showcasing its nightly beauty and radiance. This way, she felt one with the wind, close to the mother goddess, and in one with nature.
The strong wind carried across from her, the incense-filled scent of Jasmine and thyme which was heavy in the air. The rushing sounds of the waves crashing at the river beneath her hill where she sat upon, filled her ears. Breathing it all in, relieving the atmosphere, with the wind caressing her skin, it kissed her bare arms leaving trails of goosebumps on her body in its wake. Aside from the medallion, she wore around her neck, whose length stopped at the bridge between her large breasts that stood firm and round like globes with her nipples beaded and taut from the wind's raw and unbridled kisses; she was unclothed, naked and bare.
The wind continued its caress towards her midriff, awakening her desires, stirring a moan from Lavender. Understanding the signal of the wind, she laid back on the mat. Her nipples hardened even more. In every way, it made her feel more desirable than any man ever had. The sensual effects of performing the ancient rituals were overpowering, that's why one had to perform the ritual bare and naked. Lying naked under the full moon, gave her an enchanting appearance, the breeze caresses made her so aware of her own skin, the cool breeze brushing her exposed nipples, the swollen, wet flesh between her legs. Bare, open, she could hide nothing. Instead of squirming with the usual discomfort, more blood swelled her nipples, and her clit pulsed under her skin, jolting her entire body.
After this ritual, she needs to have a man's junk, hard and pulsing with need, buried deep within her folds. This ritual always leaves her hungry and sex-starved, her body loved it . . . and craved for more. The breeze, warm and relentless, continued brushing through its kisses along with her already wet and throbbing clit, sensation struck her like lightning. She bucked, arched. Moaned. Moisture, warm and slick gushed out from her, slicking her folds even more. Her skin tingled, electric and alive. What made her feel alive, was more than the wind's caress she knew it was magic, around her body, it was arousing, seething, burning desire eating her alive. Lavender's entire body clenched. Her yearning to put her fingers in between her folds was deep, but it was forbidden. Now her clit felt so wet and swollen, throbbing and waiting for release. Her gorgeous skin felt all warm and damp and flushed. Her breasts hung heavy, ached. The swirling motions of the warm breeze around her now swollen and sensitive clit, drove her to the brink of sanity, then throw her into a black chasm of pleasure so overwhelming. Her sex cramped with a hungry clench. Pleasure soared inside her, making her gasp in total submission. It felt so good.
On opening her eyes, the wind caged itself around her neck, billowing her raven locks around her face, gradually, the wind ebbed its way into the medallion she wore around her neck, leaving a faint glow in its wake. Trapped into the medallion, Lavender felt the power of the wind within her. Laughing softly against the night sky, Lavender stood up from her mat bringing fully to view her lush hips and heavy bosom, her lips, so red and glossy. She was wide-eyed as she kept on staring at the moon from beneath her thick lashes she smiled, feeling an utmost satisfaction from deep within her. Beneath the glow of the radiant moonlight, she looked otherworldly, beautiful, sensual, powerful with a thick aura of magic coursing through her.
"The ancient ritual of the goddess has been successfully performed!" She kept on laughing hysterically.
Looking up at the moon again, with unshed tears in her eyes, "Now, everything lies in your hands, divine Mother. Supreme goddess, I have fulfilled my part, I acted as the voice of the coven to proclaim your truth, your prophecy. Instead of more powers, as it has always been, I lost my sisters. My circle was vanquished. I believe you had a hand in my protection. You acted as a shield for me! I have always wondered why you did not shield the rest of my sisters. It is purpose, I believe. They have fulfilled their purposes and I am yet to fulfill mine, right?" Her eyes lightened up in realization, she chuckled, amazed.
"I get the whole point now". Wow! It is all because of her right? The girl from the prophecy eighteen years ago, right?' Reliving the memories from that night vividly, tears fell from her eyes rapidly, with reckless abandon. She shivered slightly from the cold air that masked itself into the night sky. Remembering the shocked expression on king Vladimir's face when she walked up to him without cringing in fear and spoke the mind of the gods, not that of the kingdom of Byra.
Still swirling the orb around her fingers, she remembered every single word of the prophecy. The forbidden prophecy whose proclamation sentenced her sisters to death and forced her to exile herself.
"She will awaken the treasured gifts; her time shall come. Blood for tears, glory for shame! For she whose hair shall be the mirror of night and day shall usurp your throne. In her hands, the three great kingdoms of the goddess shall unite as one."
"She is the keeper of the goddess' treasured gifts, she is of noble birth, blue blood, and power. Her rule shall be a reign never to be erased in the sands of time. To whoever her heart shall belong, greatness, strength, and prowess shall he bear. Never to be defeated! Never to be slain in war! Never to be smitten by poison! Unbeatable. Strength. Power. She is the true keeper! She is the chosen one! She's the goddess of truth! The goddess reincarnated symbol of desire!"
Lavender repeated the prophecy continuously. Musing over the words, I wonder the type or rather, kind of individual she will turn out to be.
"I have set the wheel in motion mother goddess; the ancient ritual has been concluded. The kingdoms of the goddess shall be shaken to the core, the great storm I shall soon rear its head. I cannot wait to meet her."
******
He is dead!
He is dead!
He is dead!
He is dead!
He is dead!
He is dead!
Luxuria chanted repeatedly, looking at the bloodstains now colored deep burgundy, into a mass of its own on the floor. She was dazed, sad, happy, and in deep agony, she was a myriad of emotions. She was filled with great apprehension and unforgivable hatred towards the king. Furthermore, she stared motionlessly as the corpse of Ian was carried away. Feeling the strange pull amidst her tears, Luxuria felt a strange pull twisting deep within her belly. She looked around surprised at the sensation rippling through her, strangely awakening her virginal senses. Uneasy, and scared, she looked around her trying to find out if anyone was responsible for the strange sensations pulling through her and weaving itself deep within her.
She looked around her, temporarily forgetting she was grieving Ian's unruly death brought upon him by her man-hating father. She was surprised not to see anyone in the ballroom. Everyone has left leaving her behind with Ian's bloodstains as a company. Then, what could be the cause of this feeling? She was quite curious and desired to find out.
Looking across the hall once more, to be certain she was alone, once again she could not find anyone. Set to ascend the staircase and retire to her chambers, she looked around once more, and a glisten caught her attention. Moving towards it, she discovered it was the blade of oaths, lying on the floor, forgotten. She made a move to pick up the blade, as soon as her hand made contact with it, electricity surged through her. Shocked, she yelps in pain and surprise and threw it on the floor. Making a dash towards the staircase, she felt a delicious, warm feeling crawling up her spine. It made her stop running, looking back to the blade she threw on the flow, she rushed back towards it, and gazed at it for few minutes, contemplating on how to carry the blade without feeling the way she felt at first. Looking around the hall, she went to a table, removed the vase, and pulled out the table cloth atop the table. With a motive in mind, she threw the table cloth over the blade and wrapped it. To ensure she was not being followed or monitored at all, she couldn't risk that chance. So, she waited a while, listening in for any movements, trying to survey the environment to ensure all was safe and clear. She started sneaking towards the staircase. However, on a second note, she thought to herself. Am I not a princess? Why should I be sneaking around? It will certainly make anyone that sees me suspect me and alert king Vladimir about my sneaky movements in order to be rewarded. They do not care about my pain and the suffering I'm going through. Selfish and greedy bastards! Shrugging her shoulders and adopting a fearless gait, she ascended the staircase, not minding and giving no thoughts to be being caught, as she buried the wrapped blade within her ballgown.