"I've been dating him for like six months now, you said that online dating is full of creeps," Lillian boasted.
"Well, maybe he isn't a creep. I still don't like all that Pagan stuff...," Sheryls eyes rolled.
"Why? It all just feels right. It just-"
"You're a good Christian girl, Lillian, you... you can't just turn your back."
"Sorry, it feels wrong, to me, I don't want to just listen and follow blindly! Everything fire and brimstone. I want to think for myself, I remember back in school, reading about Greek mythology, Egyptian mythology and it felt energetic, like I could feel the distant energy of a time past. I just didn't know where to look, how to find it."
"I just don't want you going to hell, girl."
"Hell is an Abrahamic concept and nothing more, I renounced my Christianity. I'm happy and on a path of happiness."
"...okay... I still worry."
"Don't. I've got the other realm on my side. Harm none, do what ye will."
"Is that a curse?!"
"No, girl. It means as long as I don't hurt anybody; I can do as I please. Wiccan Rede. If I do, it'll come back threefold."
"That don't sound that bad. I guess."
"Sheryl, I gotta go, we have plans tonight. He said we are going to find our soul selves tonight."
Zane is busy preparing for tonight, gathering up all essential items, arranging them as need be. Listening to Chris Cornell on his phone via bluetooth.
"Ah it may not be seventeenth century hits, but this man knows his shit." Zane speaks to himself, lighting black and purple candles.
A knock on the door, he turns, staring in the general direction to where the door, unlocking it. Quickly laying out a few more things before leaving the room. Literally gliding down the steps in glee.
"It's unlocked my pet," he yells, gliding in to the dining room.
She walks in, quickly shutting, locking the door, tossing her jacket. She turns, he meets her quarter way in to the living room with a kiss.
"I've been looking forward to this all day, I want to see what my soul self looks like, what I actually look like."
"You will. On this new moon. Not only that, but... we are... going to go a bit more in depth. We are going to take a big step tonight, to share my power with you, to unite ourselves, our energy."
"Really, Zane," she gasped.
"Yep," he turns, with her hand in his. "That is how you'll see your soul self. Though we have power here, we must go to our source."
"You promise this will work, how's it work?"
"With really powerful sex magic. To give, to share my power is to truly unite ourselves. A physical connection to bridge the gap. We will forever be linked, mind you. So if you're having second thoughts..."
"No, not a single one. I know this was meant to be," she follows up the steps. "I don't think I could find a better teacher and boyfriend. I've felt whole since you started teaching me, Zane."
"Please, babe; call me Zanaeris." . "Sure, Zanaeris."
They kiss in the corner at the top of the stairs, his hands slipping under, up her back, hers down the back of his pants. They linger a moment.
"C'mon," he smiles.
They walk in the bedroom, her eyes light up at his arrangement; lilacs, baby's breath, and saffron scattered on the bed, black and purple candles, parchment paper and mortar and pestle, assorted herbs, a giant egg, athame, what looked like a vial of essential oil, two crowns made of porcelain berry and kudzu vines, a clay bowl, his ritualistic zippo. She walks over and notices a pouch she didn't see and what was written on the small parchment papers; runes she didn't recognize and the Theban Alphabet on the other, something she'd been studying diligently, telling herself she would write her whole book of shadows in. Slowly undressing, she has a thought.
"This isn't going to get all screwed up because I'm not a virgin is it, 'cause I'd hate for all this to be for nothing."
"Babe; that doesn't matter in this situation," he laughs. "I don't think that really matters in anything, nothing I've read or experienced."
"Just making sure," she finishes undressing.
He just watches with a smile, those soft supple breast, even in the bra flop and bounce as the bottom of her hoodie snags them. The way they're drug over as she spins the bra clasp to the front, letting it drop. There they hang. The way they up-turn, he thinks how it's been centuries since such unique breast have been seen. They just don't shape them like that anymore.