Aine was a witch. She may not have been your idea of a witch, but a witch she was nonetheless. She had attended the Grand Academy of Wellness at Yellowknife and had posted the highest grades of her class. She was a very skilled healer, in all likelihood the finest of her age in the entire world, for she was a mere twenty-two years old.
On this the day we first encounter her, it is the fifth of August, 2621, we find her running fully nude through a field of grass and wildflowers pursued by an equally nude young man, his name in Gerold, a brewer's apprentice in the nearby town of Hedgemond, Yukon on the coast of the Sea of Darkness.
In the days before it was humanity's principal sea of commerce it had been known as The Arctic Ocean and was completely frozen over year round. It was a place visited only by the strongest of body and mind. Many lost their lives in the quest to tame this region, but that was all in the past. Today, it is only the great adventurers who dare to cross the equator. A region of severe storms and great heat. It is said that on the hottest of days the surface of the ocean will come close to boiling and millions of dead fish will float upon the surface. Beyond the equator in the far south there are other nations, smaller and more primitive than those in the north. Peoples who inhabit Australia, the southern portion of South America and Antarctica. In the centuries since the great melt, the divide between Southern and Northern culture grows greater and very few cross the equator to visit the other. Earth in the twenty-fifth century is one planet that contains two worlds.
The Sea of Darkness derives its name from the fact that night rules over it for a half a year at a time. It could just as easily have been called the Sea of Day for the other half of the year the sun never sets. It is this time of year when we first meet Aine, running nude through a field followed by a randy young fellow who is determined to give her the fucking of her life if he can catch her. Of course Aine wants to be caught. She desires that fucking as much as Gerold, but it's more fun for her if she makes him work for it. His cock is standing tall and whacking each of his thighs rhythmically creating a polyrhythm with his labored panting. It will take Aine's cooperation to relax his member since it was her lips that aroused it in the first place. This young witch did truly love to suck cock which she had started doing in the storage room at the brewery, a place to which she would have to return in order to retrieve her clothing at some point. Nudity was permissible for a witch, there was no shame in it, but the uniform of her profession helped her be taken seriously, the black robe with the sigil of the academy. Of course, the robe was now tossed over a copper tank at said brewery and she was running deliciously nude through a field as I said before.
For the reader to get the full effect I suppose I should describe her. Aine's ancestors had come from Ireland and she bore many of the signature features of that people. She had pale freckled skin and a long mane of curly red/blonde hair which was at this moment partially tamed by a strip of white cloth binding it halfway through its length. Her lips and her nipples were a deep pink. She never wore makeup of any kind, but everyone assumed she rouged. She was plump of limb and curvy of ass with a fine and firm pair of good sized tits of which she was justly proud. Her eyes, oh if only there were gods to thank for her eyes! They were a deep ultramarine, like the Sea of Darkness lit by the full Moon! Her smile was the most natural and inviting expression a person could ever see and just felt like an invitation to kiss her perfect plump lips. To see her is to want to touch her. To touch her is to want to fuck her. By great good luck, fucking is on her list of favorite things in life!
The brewer's boy proved to be up to the challenge and finally caught her about the waist bringing her down upon the grass covered soft earth. There upon the ground they fucked long and hard like all of the other beasts of the field. In this moment their humanity was truly one with the wild.
As they lay panting in the afterglow, Aine took the binding from her hair and wiped away Gerold's sweat from his armpits and around his scrotum while she planted many soft kisses upon his cock and balls.
Arm in arm they walked back to the brewery. If course Gerold was dressed down by his foreman until he got a good look at what had distracted the lad from his chores his attitude warmed. "Well done, boy!" he muttered as he cuffed him on the back of the head. "Now get that busy willie back to work or I'll dock ya for sure! And miss, ya best dress yourself and go before other workers get ideas, I know I have one or two, and no work gets done today!"
"Have no fears", she said, "I have gotten what I need here!"
Again in her robes, Aine walked up the road to where her brown dappled mare, Malenki by name, grazed upon the tall grass. She opened a bag attached to her saddle and took out a glass jar that she placed the cloth from her hair in and sealed it. There was chemistry in the sweat of an aroused young man that was sovereign for many complaints. It was potent stuff that the village lads always seemed happy to give up for free. She had heard the name of Gerold mentioned by local girls and thought that paying him a social call would have benefits for all concerned. She planned that they would meet again at least one more time before the boy turned twenty and the concentrations of the medicine in his sweat would drop.
Her house was an hour away, but she didn't rush her mount. The sun wouldn't set for at least three months.
At home, her panel was lit with a message alert. The Academy was eager to see her work on hormone extracts. Also, her former headmistress noted that the high witch Rhone Glynnes had expressed interest in the work and she was seeking a new apprentice.
She messaged back that she had been doing work on it this very day and that being apprenticed to a high witch would be a great honor, but the competition must be stiff. Even if her chances were poor, they would be none if she did not apply at all. Aine spent the next few hours composing a letter of introduction to Rhone. She started all over twice before it had the exact tone she wanted and even then she sat and stared at it for many minutes before she finally sent it.
After she had slept, bathed and breakfasted, Aine was on the road to Maqat to examine a girl who wished to attend the Academy. Her name was Flora Johnstone. At 18, she was rather old to be starting at the Academy. Her recently deceased mother had been an invalid and she had been obliged to care for her, but with her passing she became free to pursue her own ambitions. If accepted, she would be three years older than most of the first form class.
The town was on hard times. A generation before they had some wealth, but of late crops had done poorly and many families had moved away. They had no local witch and Flora hoped to go to the Academy to learn to fill that role.
Aine was given a private room in a villager's house, the master bedroom, to meet with Flora.
The girl was not at all what Aine had expected. She was one point eight meters tall. Lean but not skinny. Her face was beautiful. Perfect, flawless skin, almost transparent with slightly rosy cheeks. Huge ice blue eyes, full naturally red lips, high cheekbones. Her face was framed by a gorgeous cascade of wavy chestnut hair. When they met she wore an utterly charming smile. She and Aine embraced and Aine inhaled deeply of her scent which was intoxicating...arousing. How could this backwater hamlet have produced a young woman like this? She was obviously so healthy in this undernourished place. As they started to part their embrace, Aine impulsively kissed her lips. Their tongues touched for the briefest instant. They parted and Aine became more businesslike. She said, "Greetings from The Academy of the Guild of Balance! You have applied for a full tuition scholarship. I am here to examine you and determine your worthiness."
"I am honored by your consideration."
"I am not an actual member of the Academy board. I am a recent graduate acting in the service of the Academy. You don't have to be too formal with me, but you do have to give me a good reason for the Academy to not only accept you as a student, but to do so on a full scholarship."
"I understand. I have been working as a healer for several years. The town witch left three years ago."
"That was irresponsible. Why did she leave?"
"She quit being a witch. She became an artist." An 'artist'. An erotic performer. In the 21st century the word would have been 'whore' or 'prostitute'. She took money to perform sex, but did no healing. It's not a dishonorable profession, but it is a waste of a first class education.
