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The Last Winter
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
Subject: The Last Winter
The following is a faithful account of a dream I have dreamed so
many times. I think it is a dream the Goddess sends me, for some
purpose, because it is always the same, with the same details, and
the same conclusions.
I call it an account, because it is not a true story as most of my
posts are, but it is not fiction, either; I am just writing it, as
commanded, not inventing anything. I dreamed it again last night:
all I now do is remember it, and try to find the words.
It is not sexy. There is torture in it. And holiness. It is the
story of two horrible deaths. And, I think, it is the sweetest
writing that ever flowed out of me. For sure, the heaviest one.
Please hit 'n' to skip it unless you're sure you want to see it.
There is one way in which I'm using your beautiful language against
its rules: some "things" which proper English grammar says should
be referred to as "it" are called "she" instead. That's because,
in this particular piece, I don't feel I can use "it" for a sister
of mine in the Goddess, no matter that she took the form of a sword,
or a tree, or a hill, in this incarnation; so please skip the post
also if you can't stand my taking such liberties with grammar in
the name of my religion and feelings. Thank you.
Blessed be,
Laylah
===
I stood on the top of our sacred hill, contemplating the fire which
was devouring the palace of my father. The Northeners were destroying
everything, our men were defeated, and I felt my death quite near.
I didn't fear death, because I was a Priestess and a Warrior. I
feared cold, and prolonged torture, and hunger, however, and the
winter I was living now was the most harsh one in my young life.
My Wolf Fenris was near me, still and silent.
"I must remain here until the sacred place is secure, I have promised
this to the Goddess. My duty is to defend the holy wood of our
primeval hill", I told to Fenris, shivering in my fur, my hands as
cold as ice. "The invaders will arrive quite soon, I must prepare
myself".
I went to my cave and I took my sword. She was a beautiful weapon,
light, but so menacing with her sharp edge, and her wonderfully
carved handle. The cruel orange sun of the month of darkness and
new light struck threatening reflexes from the blade.
I played with my sword, she felt so good in my hands: I was born
for her, she for me. During my training I had also tried axes and
spears - but they were so heavy, I was a failure with them; with
my sword, everything was different.
Fenris howled. I saw a Northerner prince climbing the steep slope
of the hill. "My Goddess - I prayed - please give strength to your
daughter. Let me die swiftly and cleanly, after killing these
enemies of yours, as I have so many others in the past".
I was astonished at how the sight of the foreign warrior at once
made my heart melt in sweetness. He was all covered with blood and
bruises, and was astonishingly handsome. His pale blonde hair had
the brightness of a diamond under the winter sun; his strong hands
were both tight on his axe's handle. He carried no shield. My eyes,
accustomed to rapid evaluation of my enemies, focused on his armor -
just leather, strange - and on the huge gold torc which adorned
his powerful neck. His eyes were as blue as a clear sky on Beltane.
He was quite tired, and wounded in his right leg.
"I don't want to kill you, Priestess - he said in my language,
but with a strong alien accent - I have tortured, raped and kill
princesses and common women, but you are sacred to the Goddess.
Surrender this wood to me, and you will go free."
I laughed, a sad but fierce laugh. "What do you know of my Goddess,
you who wants to destroy her holy wood? You adore Wotan, teacher
of tricks, so how can I trust you? No, I will fight against you -
and I shall win." This time the prince smiled: "Few men can best
me in battle, and you, weak woman, are so sure to surpass me? In
any case, my warriors will be here quite soon, and they will kill
you, unless I should forbid them to. Surrender and live. It's
better to be a slave, that to suffer the longest and most horrible
death." I noticed that the previously offered freedom had been a
lie, of course.
My sword in my right hand, my red hair falling free on my shoulders,
I answered him as he neared: "Yes, I would accept to be your slave,
because you are different from any man I ever knew, and with my
inner sight I see the godhead inside you shining so bright on your
face... but I promised to Her to defend the wood. I can't be yours,
not now - not in this life." And with a single swift movement of
my right wrist I attacked him. He shouted a deep battle cry, of
breathtaking power, and swung at me with his axe.
He was vastly stronger than me, but I was much swifter. I wounded
his left arm; he hit my right leg, glancincly as I was jumping
backwards. As always during battle, my body moved fluidly,
remembering all the training I received. An incredible joy soon
ravished my heart: I felt my young blood singing in my veins, my
sweat drawing pearls on my forehead, a hot sensation between my
breasts, and no more cold, no more doubts. I was finally fighting
my last fight, and I was happy. Now, with consummated skill, I
hit him in his flank, and he dropped his axe. "Take her", I ordered
him. He looked at me, astonished. "Take your weapon, I repeat!
And keep fighting!" "Why?", he asked me. "Because I've got honour,
my prince, and I must defend this wood with honour."
Our duel was quite long. Fenris was always still and silent, but
I felt he was helping me a lot, caressing my soul with the balm of
his love. I was an able warrior, but he had more stamina. My right
arm was aching terribly for the long, continuous effort, and I was
slowly losing ground. At the end, the axe hit me in my left breast,
and I knelt, struggling to keep my sword on guard. But the pain
was too great, my head spinned, and I fell down on the sacred earth
of the hill. I was defeated. The prince was near me. "My men will
not destroy the holy wood, I promise to you on my honour." He said.
"You must flee now, while you have time...", he continued.
I kissed his hands, hot tears blinding my sight. "But your men will
kill you, if they think you have fallen under the spell of a pagan
sorceress, under my spell... how can you give your life like this?".
"My Priestess, I will say to them I have failed, and that the wood
is enchanted, impregnable. Yes, they will kill me, burn me in
sacrifice to Wotan, but it doesn't matter. I love you..."
"No, no, - I whispered - they will torture you, I can't ask you
this!" "Beloved - said the prince - now I truly think this place
is holy. You must flee, and be sure you have fulfilled your mission,
with my help - this wood shall stand". "But your God? What about
Wotan?", I asked. "I gave all to Wotan: my family, my friends, my
people, and soon I will give him my life. So don't worry, my
beautiful one." He examined the wound on my breast. "If you find
shelter near your people you will be saved: please try to save
yourself!"
"I don't want to save myself... what is left for me in life, after
all that has happened to my country, to my family, to my people...?
Please, my Lord, you have defeated me in a honorable fight, now kill
me in a clean way... I beg you, in the name of the Goddess."
The prince's eyes, until this moment full of love and tenderness,
became again hard as crystal. "If I have defeated you, you are my
slave... now I shall beat you, I will torment you, and, it will
all be for nothing: before you die, you will just have time to
witness the way in which my own men are going to kill me. What is
the pain that you fear most?" I looked at him, astonished, my face
stained with tears, then I answered: "The cold, my Lord, nothing
is more terrible for me than cold... and hunger."
The prince caressed my hot forehead, playing with the amber earrings
I've always worn since the time of my initiation: "So, after your
beating, I'll tie you to a tree of this holy wood, and cold, hunger
and wounds together will slowly cause your death." I kissed his
hands, bruised and aching from the battle, and I licked his arms,
full of marks and scars, sucking the blood still flowing from them
from our fight - our mingled blood spilt together. An incredible
joy swept on me and for an instant I saw my Goddess, smiling on me
her sweetest smile...
"Beloved - my prince said - now I will undress you. Not for sex,
I shall not violate you that way, but for torture, and death". He
removed my fur, my light armor, my chemise, even my boots, until
I remained completely naked. Immediately I began to tremble, the
ice wind blowing on the hill freezing me, burning my shaken bones
with its merciless kiss, enhancing the pulsating pain of my breast
wound. My prince wore a heavy studded belt, as a part of his
leather armor. He took it off, brandished it in his hands, and
hit my flanks with it. I didn't cry out only because, after so much
loss of blood, I didn't have the necessary strength any more. I
moaned heavily, however, new hot tears blinding my sight. His belt
was decorated with gold and iron, and the metal cut my flesh, with
a merciless, searing implacability.
He lashed at me.
All the sacred hill was holding her breath, the leaves on the
ancient pines were whispering comfort, the naked branches of the
holy oaks singing an old winter ballad. I was happy that my blood
was soaking the iced earth, I was happy there was blessed grass
under my suffering body.
He lashed at me.
"Sweet, most sweet Goddess, mother and sister of all, behold your
daughter! - I silently pray - I found my prince on the threshold of
death, but I'm grateful to you for these moments of happiness...
Blessed be..."
He lashed at me.
My flesh now was torn, my wounded breast was lacerated, and my
thighs badly bruised. I saw his handsome face under a red veil of
tears, and I saw Fenris approching him and licking him. "Dear, dear
Wolf and Guide, you know he is sent by the Goddess..."
He lashed at me one last time, then he took my sword and cut me
with her, on both my arms. I moaned, arching my body, the pain
I was feeling being so great and powerful. Then he sat near me,
drank blood from my torn breast, and said: "You were wonderful,
as an eagle of the skies... Why have the cruel gods played with us
in this way? Why must I kill the woman I would have as my spouse,
my warrior, my slave?"
I kissed his hands: "My Lord - I whispered - no, the Gods are not
cruel, not without a reason, at least... perhaps we'll meet again,
in the future..." "Across time, across space - the prince promised -
I will follow you, listen to me, Wotan, I'll follow my beloved...
and I will recognize you, no matter if you are a woman, a man, a
ghost, a demon, or an animal - I'll recognize you, and you'll be
mine forever!" He kissed my tortured body, my forehead hot with
fever, my hands shaken with cold. Then he cut me again, sucking
again the sweet blood of my life out of me.
He embraced me, he took me in his arms, and then he tied me to the
trunk of our most sacred oak. I felt the fluids of the old tree
welcoming my presence, in the harmony of all living things, in
the perfect cycle of seasons, in the sublimity of light and darkness.
I felt, as the oak was speaking to me: "Fear not, daughter of Earth,
fear not your ordeal: this will be your terrible last winter.
Rejoice, lover of Stars, because you are Chosen..."
My prince stood, tall and silent, in front of the tree. His long
blonde hair was flowing in the icy wind, his blue eyes were so
wise, as tender as lakes in summer, as ancient as our hills. He
lashed at me again, covering my trembling limbs with purple welts.
Each blow was reverberating in my heart, and in the tree's heart.
I felt the oak weeping with me, I felt her surrendering with me.
The smell of winter, savage and sacred, hit my nostrils. My beloved
kissed me for the last time. Ten he walked down the hill, to meet
his men. Long minutes passed, in silence, Fenris near me, licking
my wounds, the kiss of cold an atrocious torture on my devastated
body. You, men of sunny far lands, couldn't know how I suffered
that day, how I wept for the cruel bite of ice, how many tears I
split, mingling them with my blood.
There was no time, there was no mercy for me in that hour. I sucked
every ounce of horrible pain, I drank rivers of suffering, and
only near the end the blessing finally came. I looked at the sky:
never had it shined so beautifully, a sea of azured perfection, as a
pond full of diamonds. A black raven crossed the orange sun, flying
far, southwards. A pleasure without name raped my body, giving me
ecstasies of heaven on the edge of death. And just when the peak
of happiness was overflowing my cup, I heard his cries coming
all the way from the valley.
I saw the smoke before I realized what was happening. His cries were
less loud, now. "I hope the smoke will suffocate him soon - I
prayed - I hope they will strangle him before the worst." But then
I had a vision of his beloved face, half consumed by the flames,
and his beautiful hands, blackened by the fierce fire, and I knew
that nothing would be spared to him.
My swollen eyes saw only the sacred pines, the holy oaks, the gray
acrid smoke of fiery sacrifice, but my soul was entwined with that
of my beloved. I felt the slow consummation of skin, flesh, sinews
and organs, I drank the cup of his agony to the lees. At the end
a quiet peace descended on me, light as his holy ashes. Thanks to
the Goddess, he wasn't suffering anymore. Fenris licked again the
wounds on my legs, then we kept waiting.
It was night now - a night without moon, cloudy, the universe
enraged with me. "I must die without seeing the stars - I thought -
how sad, how sad...". The cold at lashed me all night long, his
ferocious whip never pausing in punishing me. A pale dawn greeted
me. I felt hunger, cold and exaustion as a cruel blanket on my
worn body. The smoke was not any more, the wood was free. The
Goddess smiled on me: "Look, look my daughter, look at your people!
They are beaten, but not conquered, they will be born again."
"Mother, o Mother - I prayed - let me sleep on your bosom now. I'm
so cold and tired..."
"Not yet, my beloved, not until you have suffered all the suffering
of our people. The world is changing, new gods are walking on it,
and our men and women will forget. But if you drink the poison
completely, you, o beloved, you will remember it, when the time is
proper, and the stars are nearer. You will remember all, and you
will tell the people of the time in which gods and men were
travelling together on earth. You will speak the truth."
My devastated body was caressed by the oak's love. "What truth, my
Goddess, what...?"
"That beauty and death are one, that pain and ecstasy are one, that
the old man and the new born babe are one, that health and disease
are one, that richness and poverty are one, that fire and ice are
one - that All is One."
"But - I answered, whipped by cold so strongly I couldn't tolerate
it anymore - but, my Lady, they will not believe me. I saw it, I
lived it, but they... how can they believe without seeing it?"
"Their eyes are only closed, you will open them; their ears are
only wounded, you will heal them; their tongues are only chained,
you will free them. And so they will know." My heart was *almost*
broken. "How, Mother, how will I find the strength?"
Fenris howled. She took my sword, and plunged her into Her sacred
heart. Then She put the sword, and Her heart, inside my own heart,
where a big fire was sending me waves of hot release, at last. She
entered in me, and I felt filled. Then She vanished.
The sun went down. The black carpet of night was full of the
embroideries of stars - my stars - and Fenris was howling a clear
howl of joy. The oak embraced me one last time, the cold set me
free, the stars fell on me, and I died on our sacred hill, the
living sword of the Goddess enshrined inside my breast, forever.
--
You bite my slender wrists, my frail and fiery flesh,
You drink the cutting taste of lips and breached sunsets
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