Shia - the Beginning

Shia leaned back into the pile of furs and rough, loose woven blankets with her eyes partially closed. The heat from the open earth fire felt good soaking into her body, the constant flaring pain gnawing at every joint easing slightly.

She could see the flicker of light inside the round ceremonial pit, could still remember how the carved and painted shapes of the animals on the T shaped pillars would seem to move and shift in the flickering light even if her clouded eyes could no longer see them.

Her beautiful eyes. Clear and gray they had set her apart at birth and destined her for a life as a Priestess, eyes now covered in a milky film that hid almost everything from her view.

"Mother," a voice said softly.

Shia recognized the voice as Amala, the youngest and newest Priestess who was set with the task of serving her elders and reached out trembling fingers. Amala placed a wooden plank in her hands, Shia carefully feeling for the bread, roasted mutton, and bowl of weak beer as she settled back in her warm nest.

"Thank you," Shia said and smelled deeply.

The winter of her life might have stolen her sight, but she could still smell the aroma of the warm bread and savory meat. She tried not to resent Amala, a good and obedient girl, but it was hard. Amala reveled in the beauty of the Goddess, so enthusiastically cried out in pleasure during the ceremonies to quicken the seeds broad cast across the fields, bless the people with bounty and safety before they moved on to hunt and fish, gathering in the wild meats, nuts and berries before returning to harvest what they had sown.

Shia could remember how much she had loved those ceremonies herself, the Priestess's taking all the men of the village one after another, many more than once, she remembered the pleasure that was shared amongst the village. She still took part in the spells to quicken the earth, combining the spent seed of the men gathered from all the Priestess's bodies with the holy beer and sprinkling it across the fields.

She could still remember, although those memories were only now ashes in her mouth.

Shia's head came up in anger as voices were suddenly raised outside the door of the sacred chamber, angry voices in a place that could go years with only the sound of respectful whispers.

"You may not enter!" a male voice said angrily and then grunted in pain.

Shia felt her clouded eyes widen in shock and alarm, the idea of violence here of all places sickening and listened to the tread of heavy steps walk into the room.

"I'm sorry, Mother, we tried to stop him!" Amala cried from somewhere behind the unknown man.

Shia could see the dim shape of the man through her clouded eyes, tall and broad, but little beyond that.

"Who are you!" Shia demanded, "Why are you here?"

"Ahhh," the man said, "Now both of those questions are epics each in their own telling.

"Which would you have of me first?"

Shia heard the words and understood them with a little effort, but the shapes of the sounds were different and strange. A traveler then, someone from beyond the edge of the world, but come for what purpose Shia couldn't fathom.

"Why have you come here, traveler!" Shia demanded, her voice low and even despite her anger.

"To see the most beautiful woman the world has yet seen, of course," the man replied in amusement, "Tales of hair to match the yellow flame of the sun, eyes to match the pale blue of the sky, skin as soft and smooth as a newborn and the passion to slack the thirst of a hundred men.

"But, alas, I see I've arrived too late."

Shia sat up straighter as her face turned a bright red, the wooden plate and bowl of beer shifting precariously in her lap.

"You mock me!" Shia spat, "A fool traveling beyond the edge of the world to mock an old woman!

"How... epic... a tale!"

The man laughed in delight, his deep tenor echoing from the stone walls and T pillars of the room.

"At least the fire I heard tell hasn't been banked with the passage of the years," the man said.

"Again, who are you and why are you here?" Shia demanded.

"I have said true why I have come," the man said, "My name? Which would you have?

"I am Enkidu to some, Pangu, Atum, so many names it would take the turning of a season to recount them all.

"But you shall know me as Nerik for the storm that is to follow in my footsteps."

Shia tried to keep the sneer from her face and the anger in her heart from showing. The man was a charlatan, a deceiver trying for advantage that he would never receive from her. Shia smiled slightly as she made the decision to pander to the fool, ply him with beer and women, and then have his throat slit and blood spilled across the fields as soon as he slipped into a stupor.

"Nerik," Shia replied, her sightless eyes staring at the shape of the man, "May you be welcome.

"Food and drink for our guest, and Amala, you shall feed and provide for him with your own hand and your own body."

"Yes mother," Amala began only to have her arm seized by Nerik as she began to turn away.

"Such fire," Nerik said with a wide grin, "I can see your mind more intimately than even you, Shia, I can see the path you have laid out for me, the fine food, the sweet child just blossomed into her womanhood you offer."

Nerik gave Amala's arm a gentle squeeze and then released her before she rushed away.

"And I see your gift you have in wait for me before the sun shines down on the new day."

Shia jerked in alarm at Nerik's casual use of her true name, a name not known to any in the village except the other Priestess's and then gapped as Nerik stepped up onto the raised stone platform and sank down next to her. Her mouth was still hanging ajar when Nerik reached out to take the bowl of beer from her platter and drain it in a series of noisy, sloppy gulps while some spilled from the corners of his mouth.

"Much to watery," Nerik commented as he plucked a piece of mutton from Shia's platter and popped it into his mouth, "Weak, bitter stuff, that. You'll never have finer beer than what's made between the Tigris and Euphrates."

Shia was still gaping in amazement when several men rushed into the chamber with flint knives, stone axes, and clubs with cruel flint blades embedded in the wood in a saw tooth pattern, Amala cowering behind them.

"Stop," Nerik commanded, Shia even more astonished that the men of her village complied.

"Who are you?" Shia asked once more, amazement and a touch of fear coloring her voice.

"I have come to offer you a gift," Nerik said calmly and ate another morsel of mutton, "One that comes hiding the sting of a scorpion's tail, but still a gift."

"Only a fool would accept a gift such as that," Shia breathed.

"That would depend on the gift," Nerik replied in amusement.

"What then do you offer?" Shia asked.

"Your youth, your beauty whose splendor has been told and retold throughout all lands... the flood of passion to rekindle the fire in your parched your loins.

"And perhaps what you would find most valuable of all... your eyes."

Shia listened to Nerik's deep, soothing voice and then shook herself as her anger flared again. She would not let herself be such a fool as to believe this ignorant stranger's false promises. She glared at Nerik, anger flaring and burning hotter and brighter at even temporary hope that she had felt that she would once again be able to run barefoot through the fields, to make love with the men of the village beneath the light of the full moon... to see again.

Nerik laughed as he watched her, Shia's face contorting in rage at his contempt and then waved at the dimly seen shapes of the waiting men who had been slowly working their way around the open hearth central fire.

"Kill him," Shia demanded.

Nerik laughed even louder as the men rushed forward and then in the blink of an eye seized Shia around the waist. She had barely a moment to gasp in shocked anguish as Nerik lifted her as if she were nothing more than a feather. Before the men had taken two steps Nerik managed to rush across the length of the chamber with Shia in his arms and then out into the bright light of the afternoon sun.

Shia was still dazed as Nerik moved, the bright sunlight and dimly seen shapes rushing past her cloudy eyes confusing and disorienting her.

"Who... what are you?" Shia gasped, the pain in her joints flaring to agony at the none to gentle handling she was receiving.

Nerik remained silent as he rushed along until Shia could hear and smell the gurgling water of the stream that in her youth would have taken her half a day to walk to from the Temples. It was impossible for them to have traveled so far, but the soft splashing of water over the many stones and soft caress of mist against her cheek gave proof to where they were at.

Suddenly Nerik stopped and lay Shia gently down on a bed of soft moss before sitting down next to her. Shia lay still, panting and trying to catch her breath while she waited. After several minutes she felt her anger flare again and turned to glare at the shape sitting beside her.

"If you're a demon come to spirit me away you've made a fine choice," Shia spat, "An old, cranky woman and one not about to bow and scrape to such as you!"

Nerik laughed in delight and reached out to take Shia's hand.

"And that is why I choose to offer you a choice to accept my gifts that I can bestow on you," Nerik replied.

"Gifts!" Shia cursed, "Only the God's could bestow a gift such as what you promised, and I stopped believing in those more years ago than I care to count!"

"Ahh, but that is what I offer," Nerik said in amusement, "A choice between the two things you most desire.

"Youth or death.

"Chose."

Shia sat glaring at the stranger she could barely see and knew she was about to die. So many years, seven children of her body, countless lovers to rival the stars of the sky, summers of plenty and the lean times of the winters. She more than welcomed the chance to sleep forever, to forget the constant pain in her body and the constant pain of losing her sight.

"Do what you will," Shia shot back while glaring at Nerik.

Nerik laughed again and then stood, Shia listening to the rustle of cloth as he removed his leather jerkin and breeches. She barely flinched when she felt his hands take hers to help her stand, her bone and shell belt, wrist and ankle bracelets rattling gently when he untied the leather skirt from around her waist to let if fall around her stick thin legs. Both men and women of the village only wore shirts when the snows came so she was standing naked before him while still glaring at the dimly seen shape of his body. Nudity wasn't uncommon among the people, naked bodies often seen, but rarely noted, but Shia felt the strong urge to cover her flaccid, hanging breasts and the wrinkled, folded skin of her belly. There was no body modesty among the people, but Shia felt exposed and vulnerable.

"The tales were true," Nerik breathed, "Such beauty, hair the color of the sun, eyes the color of the sky, skin smooth and soft."

Shia felt her anger flare up again at being mocked, her mouth opening for an angry response before gasping in surprise as she felt Nerik's naked body suddenly pressing against her own. She felt Nerik's hard length squeezed between them as he embraced her, his flesh burning hot against hers and was amazed when she felt her body respond.

A fire she had thought long since dead flared from a hidden ember to a soft glow between her thighs, the arid recesses between her thighs flooding as if from a summer deluge after so many long, dry years. Nerik's mouth found hers, his tongue forced between her lips before he suddenly broke away from the kiss.

"You must choose, Shia," Nerik said with his need obvious in his voice and hands caressing her back, moving lower to squeeze and spread her ass cheeks apart, "I must hear the words.

"Life... or death."

Shia couldn't believe how her body had quickened, how much she had missed the burning, throbbing ache that was at the heart of her woman's flower reawakened. If she were to die, then what better way than to give herself one last time.

"Life," Shia breathed.

Nerik lowered Shia down to the soft bed of moss without a word, the weight of his body pressing down on her as she spread her legs. Pain flared up in her hips from the long forgotten position, and then Shia cried out in more pain but now mixed with equal parts pleasure when Nerik thrust his length deep into her body.

It had been years and years since she had last welcomed a man into her body and accepted his seed, but she still remembered the pleasure of being stretched open and filled. Shia panted with Nerik's length inside of her as he only lay on top of her and gazed down.

"So, so beautiful," Nerick sighed and reached down to tilt Shia's head to the side.

Shia's cloudy eyes stared up at the bright glow of the sun above her and felt Nerik suckle at her throat, his body finally beginning to move as he thrust in and out of her slowly and gently. Pain flared in Shia's chest, her left arm burning and aching as she felt her sheath squeezing down on the hard length inside of her.

Shia knew the signs, had seen it over and over with many of the old ones before they passed, she knew that Nerik's promise of life had been a lie as her heart tore apart inside her chest, but concentrated on the pleasure that she hadn't felt in so, so long coursing through her instead of the growing anguish.

"Shia..." Nerik gasped, "Listen to my voice, cling to it, cling to the pleasure and don't let go!"

Shia's cloudy vision was growing dim, the warm glow of the sun on her milky eyes growing weaker when she felt flaring agony not in her chest, but at her throat.

He bit me! Shia thought in outrage before fire lanced through her stomach.

It felt as if instead of Nerik's hard length a hot, burning brand taken straight from a pile of embers had been shoved into her woman's flower, the pain thrusting and moving inside of her womb as more flame quickly spread from her throat.

Listen to me, cling to me, do not slip away!

The words boomed inside of Shia's skull as images began to flash through her mind. She suddenly saw herself from minutes before standing in the cool shade beside the stream, skin hanging loose and wrinkled from thin arms, breasts sagging an empty nearly down to her bellybutton, folds of skin hanging from her stomach the gift of so many cherished children.

The milky white staring eyes and stringy gray hair that she had cherished so much in her youth, treasures that the gods had so cruelly taken away from her while still granting her heart to keep beating.

But she didn't see the old crone standing feeble and spent, but only the beauty of the soul burning brightly within. Gray stringy hair transformed into long, cascading red gold locks, milky white eyes now a clear blue that could pierce the heart of any man.

Cling to me!

More images began to flash through Shia's mind, years upon years, decades piled on top of decades of travels that transformed the entire world she had known from birth into a tiny, miniscule piece of a much greater whole.

Nerik's thrusts became more forcefully, shoving Shia's frail, thin body on the mossy ground and she found herself responding. Without conscious though her hips began to thrust up to meet each of Nerik's, his blazing hot length sending out wave after wave of pleasure and pain through her body each time his stomach slapped wetly against hers. Shia could still feel the burning pain at her throat, could feel him sucking greedily at her skin, but was lost in the images playing out in her mind.

I have lived ten thousand season to find one as beautiful, as fiery as you.

Nerik's thought blazed through Shia's mind and she realized she could sense what he was feeling, could feel what he was experiencing with his hard length inside of her. Shia squeezed down on him and was delighted and amazed when she felt what Nerik experienced, her tight sheath wrapped around his length squeezing down as he thrust in and out of her body.

You're as old as the world, Shia thought without any surprise that Nerik could hear her.

The world was already old beyond imagining when I was born, and ten thousand seasons from now when we are no more the world will continue as if we never existed, Nerik replied, his mind full of amusement and irony.

Shia's world shattered in equal parts pleasure and pain. The agony in her chest stabbing down into her left arm with every heartbeat, with every wave of pleasure from Nerik's length stabbing into her womb. His length still felt like a burning, red hot brand thrust into her, but the pleasure he gave stretching her open, probing deep into her was more than the burning pain's equal. Shia gasped, openmouthed with her hands on the back of Nerik's head feeling the tight curls of hair close to his scalp.

And image opened before her, that of a tall, broad shouldered man with skin a dark mahogany with the thick, muscled forearms of a warrior. Brown eyes looked back at her from a smiling, square jawed face, teeth a bright white and his hair a tightly curled black cropped close to his skull.

Do you find me handsome, my queen? Nerik asked.

Shia wrapped her legs around Nerik's waist, pain in her hips forgotten as she locked her ankles behind his back and pulled him into her body with each of his thrusts.

It's time, Nerik's thoughts flickered quickly, My seed will quicken you, but you must drink from my font for the spell to sealed.

Shia felt Nerik explode inside of her, pulse after pulse of his seed filling her and screamed. Scalding, boiling liquid filled her womb, the heat and pain exploding outward to spread quickly down her legs and up her stomach and chest.

Drink, Nerik demanded as he pulled away from Shia's neck, a fingernail lancing the vein at his own neck so that his blood pulsed down onto Shia's open, gaping mouth.

Shia screamed again as the boiling hot liquid splashed across her tongue and then rose up to clamp a demanding mouth against Nerik's skin. Pulse after pulse of hot blood filled her mouth while pulse after pulse of hot cum filled her womb.

Listen to my voice, concentrate on me and don't lose yourself! Nerik's mind demanded.

Pain and pleasure.

Every fiber of Shia's body was on fire. She had stumbled and fallen as a child, an arm thrusting into the hot embers of an open hearth so that her hand had been scared all the way to this day, and that pain was nothing compared to what she felt. But the pleasure was the pain's equal, a throbbing, pulse that echoed Nerik's thrusting member still violating her womb. Hot, boiling liquid spilled down her throat and exploded in her stomach, Nerik's hard length deep inside of her sending spurt after spurt of hot boiling liquid to fill her womb. Shia's body jerked and spasmed, beneath Nerik's weight pressing her down into the moss, her limbs beating a rapid drumbeat against the soft ground.

Suddenly Nerik pulled his neck away from Shia's greedy mouth and rolled off to lay gasping beside her.

"Stay with me, don't fade away!" Nerik demanded, the sound echoing in Shia's ears as well as in her mind.

Suddenly the pain redoubled, fire exploding from inside her stomach and her woman's flower in equal measure, screams filling the copse of trees beside the stream. Shia's back arched, lifting her body from the ground as she threw her arms wide.

"Stay with me!" Nerik said again in the odd twin echo of her mind and her ears.

Shia was dying, she wanted to die to escape the flames consuming her from within and had to close her eyes on the blazing light of the sun burning at her eyes.

Shia's eyes flew open again in shock and looked at Nerik, the vision blurred through tears of agony, but...

Shia felt herself soar as she saw Nerik's dark skin coated in a sheen of sweat, saw his manhood still stiff and erect and covered in a sheen of milky cum, saw his smiling eyes watching her and the wide smile of brilliantly white teeth. Shia screamed again as wave after wave of flames consumed her, pleasure completely forgotten with her fists pulling up matted clumps of moss from the moist ground, but her eyes drank in the sight of Nerik gazing down at her. The hanging branches of the willows behind him never looked so beautifully green, the flash of a bright yellow and black of a goldfinch causing her heart to soar.