Inanna And Ereshkigal

Chapter 01: Inanna and Ereshkigal -- Battle in Irkalla

[This is a one-off story, or so I intend at this time, inspired by several elements: the Mesopotamian myth of Inanna's Descent into the Underworld, and a few stories written by a certain "GW" from another website, a noted portal for the female muscle fetish. This story draws upon various ideas and scenarios presented in GW's stories, and it is not intended to be plagiarism.]

[This story is also predicated on a fetish: women who are paragons of muscular development, and who are engaged in intense struggle for physical and mental dominance. If you have thematic objections to this, please do not read this story.]

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High Priestess Puabana shook with anger. "The demon queen has gone too far! How could Ereshkigal have the gall to break the peace of Inanna, her sister and ruler?"

The severely-wounded runner was at death's door. She sported several claw marks along her bronzed, lean legs, but Puabana knew no ordinary animal had made those wounds. Nothing but a demon could cause gashes that suppurated in this fashion -- demons under the command of Ereshkigal, Goddess of Irkalla the Land of the Dead, Queen of the Realm Beneath.

The runner croaked, while supported by two other priestesses, "I know not the reason for her boldness, O Blessed One. I know... what I saw... they come... for us..." She collapsed in a fit of coughing, and blood spotted the floor in front of her. The healers rushed forward -- but it was too late. Her soul had passed on, passed on into the realm of that very entity whose demon armies now marched on the Great Temple of Uruk, the glorious city wholly dedicated to the worship of Warlike Inanna, Supreme Goddess of the Sky. Silently, Puabana prayed for her brave soul, and the souls of all who had suffered and died so far.

Then the reports came in from the soldiers. The men's faces were frozen into rictuses of terror. Other men they could battle fearlessly, creatures of flesh and blood they could fight. Bold enough they were, certainly, when taking the spoils of war after a successful sack of a city. They could not stand firm when faced with demons from the Netherworld, horrors from nightmares come to life. Not for centuries had such a thing happened. Now, the reign of the indolent fatuous king Dumuzi would be marked by this event forever.

The warrior priestesses under Puabana's command were far more courageous. As the demons ravaged the streets of the city and approached the steps of the Great Temple, the women silently formed ranks and levelled their spears. The sunlight glinted off their shields of bronze and gold. Their shoulders and arms were strong, their feet were firm. Puabana was proud of them, even when it became clear that they were completely overmatched.

By degrees, they were forced back until they stood in the inner sanctum, before the statue of Inanna herself, the survivors grimly blinking the sweat and blood from their eyes, forming a protective wall around a wounded Puabana. Here of all places, they would not flee or surrender. They would fight and die for their goddess.

But then they quailed, as the slavering demons parted ranks, and a figure that so obviously was of deific origin strode through. Puabana gasped. It was Ereshkigal herself! And now the entire chamber seemed filled with a palpable cold dread, as the personal aura of the dark goddess emanated from her.

She was almost naked, pale-skinned and voluptuous, clad in black flowing strands of cloth that seemed to coil around her body like sensuous tendrils. Her hair, black as midnight, was tied up and pinned in the traditional fashion of royalty. She was so pale that her skin almost seemed grey with a ghostly pallor. She wore no weapons, no protective armour or other accoutrements.

"Well, proud lackey of my haughty sister, there you stand, defiant to the last," Ereshkigal's voice seemed to be a chill penetrating Puabana's very bones. The involuntary moans of her stalwart priestess soldiers and their shuddering told her that they were reacting similarly to the voice of the goddess. Not for nothing are they gods and goddesses, who rule over us, Puabana thought, breaking into cold sweat. When their divinity is manifest, no mortal can endure it.

But she drew herself up as far as she was able and declared, "This place is sacrosanct, Ereshkigal, Mistress of the Netherworld. We are the children of Inanna, your divine sister, and we are under her protection. This invasion of yours breaks the peace of the gods, and offends Enki himself. I charge you, in the name of Inanna..."

<*SILENCE!*>

It was not so much a shout as a direct imperative forced upon every cell in her body, imprinted directly upon her brain. Puabana froze, finding herself unable to move. Ereshkigal's eyes were black pits of hatred and rage, and she strode forward, ready with one sweep of her arm to slay them all in a stroke.

Summoning up every ounce of her will and devotion to her beloved goddess, Puabana raised her eyes to the heavens and screamed, "Queen Inanna! Your daughters are in need! Come to us!"

And there was a flash of light, brighter than the sun, and the demons shrank back, gibbering with sudden terror. And lo! The statue of Inanna behind the women had disappeared -- had come to life! The priestesses gasped as one body at this miracle. As the glare slowly faded into a warm soothing glow, they turned to their goddess made manifest and fell on one knee in adulation.

Inanna herself was there in the flesh. Like her sister, she towered over her mortal devotees, standing at nearly eight feet. Her hair was like the mane of a lion, reddish-gold framing her divinely beautiful face, strong feminine features given a leonine cast. In shade and colour her hair was like that of most Sumerians, but her shimmering hair possessed unearthly vibrancy of colour. All over her body, clad in a flowing white robe and her divine armour, a soft sheen glowed. She was sleekly muscled, her womanly curves moving sinuously with a powerful intimation of strength, so that she seemed an incomparably graceful Lioness, much like the seven golden lions she had tamed that pulled her chariot when she wished to traverse the skies or the land.

Now her golden eyes were flashing, and she raised a tawny arm to point at Ereshkigal, who had drawn back slightly but was standing her ground, baring her teeth in a show of belligerence. Puabana and her followers fell onto their knees in awe before their goddess. Several were weeping openly, never having expected the honour of seeing Inanna incarnate before their very eyes in their lifetime. It seemed that her bright presence burned away the chill and despair of Ereshkigal's aura.

Where Ereshkigal was darkly sexual, a creature of the night, the embodiment of umbral temptation, Inanna was truly the mother of life, her curvy body the epitome of womanly perfection, her strong sun-browned limbs possessing the strength to nurture and protect.

"Sister! Has your earlier chastisement at my hands escaped your memory so soon? Why do you now wreak havoc throughout the mortal realm with such impunity, such little regard for your fate? Your punishment will be severe indeed, Ereshkigal. My mercy will be less this time, for my patience is limited, and the harm you have caused is great. I shall suffer you to explain yourself and your evil acts, before I pass judgement upon you!" Inanna's regal voice rang out, resounding through the chamber with holy wrath tempered by a serene, unflappable calm.

"For too long have I suffered at your 'mercy', Sister!" Ereshkigal spat, and now her voice seemed as the venomous hissing of a serpent. "You took the sunlit realms for yourself, and grew strong on the worship of credulous mortals, while for me, you left the cold, dark netherworld, far beneath the earth, far from the sun, far from warmth, far from joy, far from life. You thought to trap me there for eternity, as I languished in my exile.

"But you made a mistake when you condemned me there! I have fed upon the misery of death. I have fed upon the pain and suffering of mortal souls, and I have grown strong, Inanna! Stronger even than you! And now, I am come to claim my throne and dominion over all the world, and I will cast you down into the deep darkness, where you will reside for all eternity, and only then will I call my vengeance sated!"

Such blasphemous words, uttered within Inanna's own Holy of Holies! Puabana stepped forward, trembling with fury, but Inanna herself raised an arm to stay her. Awed, Puabana looked up at the countenance of her goddess. Inanna bestowed her chief follower, the most devout High Priestess who had ever served her, with a smile and a kindly look. Puabana communed often with Inanna, at all hours of the day and the night. Inanna heard her often, and spoke to her from time to time.

Being the supreme goddess of love and life, the sexual orgasm was the most powerful gift Inanna had given to all of humanity. An act of physical pleasure was a sacrament to her; the throes of bodies entwined in passion were her sacred dance; the moans and cries of release were her songs of praise. High Priestess Puabana had received that rarest of gifts -- she had received a Visitation from Inanna herself, on one memorable night. She knew, with humble pride, that she occupied a special place in Inanna's heart.

"High Priestess Puabana, I know well your love of me. Your courage and strength are an inspiration to my followers. With such women as you and your brave sisters in my Temple, my demonic sister will never triumph over the living lands," Inanna proclaimed, sending a surge of pride through Puabana's chest, and through all the priestess warriors who heard.

"See well the untruth of your words, sister!" Ereshkigal cried out. The room darkened, and a dark circle seemed to form in the air. The hair on the nape of Puabana's neck rose, as she gazed upon this portal with mounting terror. It was something every mortal feared to see: the gateway to the Land of No Return.

"You took the realms of life and love as your dominion," hissed Ereshkigal, her dark eyes glittering pinpoints of hate. "But mine is the law of the dead. Mine is the judgement of the ending of a life. And now, I decree -- their time has come! Puabana, High Priestess of my contemptible sister -- your judgement is here!"

And she gave Puabana the Look of Death. Inanna was powerless to prevent this -- by ancient compact, the judges of the underworld, the Anunnaki, decreed when a mortal would die -- and Ereshkigal was the Queen of the Anunnaki. The entire phalanx of women warriors reeled, caught up in the Look, and they were slain where they stood -- such was the remorseless power of Ereshkigal. Their souls passed swiftly into the Land of No Return. One by one, the doughty warrior-women of Inanna fell to the floor and lay still.

Puabana staggered. She fell to her knees. Raising a hand towards Inanna, she looked up, smiled, and croaked, "My goddess... save... your people... you are... the stronger... you will... triumph..." Then she slumped, and her soul passed on into the Land of No Return, beyond the veil of life, to join her courageous women warriors.

"No!" Inanna cried, but to no avail. Her eyes flashed with fury as she rounded on the laughing Ereshkigal. "Yours it was not given to cause untimely death, despicable sister of mine! Your abuse of power stinks to the heavens -- and it is I who shall bring you your judgement! You will face your condemnation before me!"

"Come, then!" Ereshkigal's eyes flashed as well. The two divine sisters locked eyes and glared. Ereshkigal's demons had moved forward, eager to begin befouling the corpses of the priestesses with lewd intentions. With a contemptuous wave of her hand, Inanna banished them, causing them to burn up with howls of agony, leaving no earthly trace behind.

Ereshkigal spoke. "Lesser demons you may have dominion over, Inanna, Courtesan of the Heavens. But over me, you shall have none."

"I invoke the Rite of the Trial," Inanna intoned, her voice taking on the tones of formality. "I shall prevail over you and deliver to you my judgement."

"I accept, and I choose the place of our Trial," Ereshkigal replied swiftly. "Come down to my chamber, in the deep parts of Irkalla! I invite you, sister, so that you may return from my realm freely should you chance to triumph over me!"

Inanna hesitated a moment, but her sister had the right to choose the place of the Trial, according to divine formula. She remained confident -- the previous Trial had been little more than a formal gesture, and she had brought heavy chastisement upon her sister in front of all the gods, forcing her to accept her judgement and punishment. In Irkalla, the gaze of the gods would easily reach the battle, and all the denizens of the deep netherworld would be spectators as well, but of course unable to interfere. Perhaps even the recently departed spirits of the dead would be able to catch a glimpse of the proceedings. Her favoured High Priestess, Puabana, would surely be comforted when Inanna exacted justice upon the dark demon queen!

"Very well -- I accept your invitation, and your challenge," she stated. "Your foul unwanted presence will be banished from the sunlit lands. Death will come in the fullness of time, and not by your wanton wishes. I will bring this to pass."

"Come then," Ereshkigal gave a throaty chuckle, and crooked a black-painted fingernail. She stepped into the portal, and disappeared. Inanna took a few strides forward, and within moments, she had followed her sister into the portal.

Instantly, she found herself in a high-ceilinged cold stone chamber. This was the anteroom of the gate she knew from long memory. It had been many hundreds of years since she had had occasion to pass this way, nigh unto a thousand years. The gates could not be smashed by any force -- not even by her considerable might.

The sepulchral tones of the first gatekeeper echoed through the chamber. "Inanna, Courtesan of the Gods, Mistress of Life and War. Why have you come?"

"I come at my sister Ereshkigal's behest. She has challenged me to combat, and I come to bring justice upon her," Inanna declared.

The cold, dead voice continued, "You may enter, Queen of the Heavens, but your garments must be shed. You may not enter the Nether Realms except with a humble heart and a countenance to match."

"Insolence!" Inanna's fury flared. Her dark mascaraed eyes seemed to blaze with anger, and she drew herself up to her full height. The glory of her divine power seemed to envelope her physical form. "Know you not who I am? How dare you attempt to impose such strictures upon me!"

"It matters not who you are, Mighty Inanna," the gatekeeper, Neti, responded, still in that toneless voice. "Enlil Himself would have to obey these laws, for He was the one who set them from the beginning of time. For this, the first gate, remove your crown, and enter the gate with humbled head shorn of glory."

Inanna gritted her teeth, but she had to comply. She raised her hands and took off her crown, her shurgarra -- the Crown of the Steppe. Her red-gold hair framed her face like a mane -- surely any could see that even bareheaded, her glory and beauty were not diminished. Still, the crown was a great loss, for it conferred a large part of her warlike prowess upon her.

The crown disappeared from her hands as she offered it up. The gatekeeper intoned, "Proceed."

Inanna strode forth, and into another chamber, facing the second gate. Neti spoke again. "Here, remove and surrender unto me your necklace." It was lapis-lazuli, finer than any that could be found in the earthly realm. Inanna stripped it off and gave it up, feeling yet more of her power disappear.

The third gate took from her the breast beads adorning her chest, the double strand that hung from her neck. She fumed as the fourth gate compelled her to take off her breast plate, which was better protection than any mortal armour could provide. The fifth gate deprived her of her bracelets, and she felt the strength of her arms diminish. By then it could be seen clearly by any onlooker that her divine radiance was dimmed, though the sheer beauty of her strong and sleek form remained astounding.

At the sixth gate, she balked at having to relinquish her judgement rod, which she wielded sometimes as a mace. It was inlaid with the same lapis-lazuli as her necklace, and contained immense power against all enemies. The gatekeeper remained adamant and unyielding, and took the rod from her.

And at the seventh and final gate, without her consent, her shimmering robes suddenly vanished. "What is this?" she demanded furiously. Her nipples stiffened at the sudden exposure to the chill air of the underworld. Her muscular body was abruptly revealed in all its glory, but not in a manner that she had desired.

"Be you silent, Queen Inanna," Neti was as implacable as ever. "The ways of the underworld are perfect. They may not be questioned. Enter, then, holy courtesan of the Heavens, with head bowed low."

Thus did Inanna step past the threshold, and into Ereshkigal's throne room.

Immediately her senses were assailed with the overpowering odour of the unguents used in embalming rites by the mortals. The air here, cold and dank, was redolent with the scent of those oils. The chill air caused her pink nipples to swell and become erect, and she shivered involuntarily.

She was in a huge stone chamber, illuminated only by a faint eerie glow suffusing the entire area, which did not seem to emanate from any particular light source. This was the dark light of Irkalla, her sister's dark and cheerless realm. In the middle of the chamber was a large circular dais, the borders of which were inscribed with cuneiform runes of power.

And across the chamber from her stood the demon Queen Ereshkigal, as naked as her heavenly sister, in front of her throne of skulls. She was holding a goblet, and beside her something hung suspended from chains, dripping blood. Inanna gasped in horror as her eyes adjusted and she saw what it was -- it was the form of Puabana, her High Priestess, and her blood was dripping from a wound in her neck into the goblet Ereshkigal held!

"Release her! Release my High Priestess!" she screamed with righteous fury, filling the entire hall with the reverberations of her voice. For a moment the shadows in the deepest corner were dispelled, and Ereshkigal snarled as she felt the force of Inanna's rage. But then the pale alabaster-skinned goddess smiled, and raised the goblet of blood to her blackened lips.

"I shall consign her to her fate soon enough, sister mine, once I have supped of her lifeblood! She was your favoured one once, was she not? Her blood fortifies me, Inanna -- the blood of your most devout worshipper fortifies me against you!" And with that, she drank deeply of the goblet, letting some of the blood trickle from the corners of her lips. And indeed, she seemed to glow with increased power in some undefinable way. This was ancient magic -- in a battle between deities, if one should consume the blood of the other's defeated followers, there was an exchange of strength and potency. The more devout the followers, the greater the corresponding exchange.

Inanna could feel the flow of energies, conferring some of her power upon her sister. The soul of Puabana, she could see, was trapped, a prisoner of Ereshkigal's whims. The form of Puabana turned its head to Inanna, and the goddess was sick at heart to see the sheer depth of suffering in the pits that constituted her eyes. How could she allow her most loyal follower to be subject to such a cruel fate? Inanna gathered her energies, preparing to force the release of Puabana's soul from durance vile.

"Goddess... no... do not... your strength... drained... I will suffer... for you..." Puabana's croaking, rattling voice was a parody of the clarion one she had possessed in life, the voice that had rendered judgement, offered paeans of praise, commanded soldiers in battle. But for all that, it was unmistakably hers, and she was displaying such unwavering nobility of spirit even in the midst of such suffering. She, a mortal, able to do this!