Legend

I checked everything one more time.

At the center of the vast clearing was a large circle of hard-packed dirt. As close to perfect as humanly possible, the circle of dirt was required to ensure that the eventual flames would reach neither the surrounding grass or the tall trees upon the wide plateau. After all, if the mountain burned, then the delicate balance of Nature would be disrupted, and a long-standing tradition of my people would be at least temporarily forced into a hiatus while the land healed itself and the small coven forced to rebuild, or perhaps even move.

Well within the border of the large circle of dirt, a second circle had been dug into the ground and filled with the old wood and leaves and twigs of the mountainside. Collected with care by the apprentices, these would burn slowly, their ashes collecting at the bottom of the small trench as their resulting flames rose well into the sky.

Inside the circular trench, five straight lines had also been dug, forming a star within the inner circle. These had also been filled with the small discards of Nature, although the fuel to be used within the straight trenches had been previously spelled to produce a cooler flame.

At the center of it all was the stone altar, chiseled by hand and protected by spells, which had itself become legendary. According to the records of the coven, it had survived for seven generations of Mages, the spells needing to be occasionally reinforced to keep the effects of weathering at bay. The ornate design made it a work of art in its own right, one which was worthy of display on castle grounds, with the length and the width both significant enough for even the largest of people to easily use the altar for its intended purpose. Before the altar was a small knife, its earth-sheathed blade thin and sharp to easily pierce and spelled to produce minimal pain.

The intended purpose of the ceremony and its tools was to bind true lovers together. This was not limited to those who had been officially married by the priests. Many lovers made the journey, even from the furthest ends of the kingdom, to consummate their love and bind themselves to one another, either prior to the marriage rites or, since the priests would only marry one man with one woman, completely eschewing such rites. More than a few times each year, young lovers who had run away from their families would come to the coven specifically to bind themselves to each other, even though the binding ceremony would prevent them from loving anyone else, even if one partner died at a young age and the other partner lived a full lifespan.

As the sun set on the horizon of the sea, I turned to watch the tiny distant form of a trading vessel heading south. The ship was bypassing the port at the base of the mountain, which was a little surprising; perhaps the ship had been delayed by bad weather in the north, or was clandestinely carrying critical messages or cargo on behalf of the King and was thus not authorized to stop anywhere other than the intended destination. I stood too far up the mountain for the scent of the sea to reach my nostrils, but I was keenly aware of the breeze pressing my robe firmly against my front, naturally enhancing my curves. My hair was loose, blowing behind me and a little to my right, the golden strands more symbolic of sunrise than of sunset.

"You are here."

The voice of my dear companion brought a smile to my lips, even before I turned my head to watch her circumventing the large circle of hard-packed dirt. Her robe was identical to mine, although being northern-born, her skin was naturally pale, especially since she rarely emerged outside during the day, as was her way.

"Are they coming soon?" I asked as I extended a hand to her.

She accepted, her touch unnaturally cool to my southern blood, yet it was a temperature difference which was no longer shocking to me. "They come," she answered, her accent still prominent despite having spent nearly four years with the coven. While she was fluent in the tongue of the Midlands, she would never be able to pass as a native, both for her flesh and for the slightly-odd word choices based heavily upon her native northern language. "They arrive soon."

We simply held hands, regarding each other as the daylight faded slowly. I had hoped that she would arrive shortly before the lovers, so that she and I could spend a few moments together in solitude, basking in the end of a glorious day. I admired how the breeze caused the red robe to wrap around her, subtly enhancing the swells adorning her chest. The breeze also caused her perfume to waft into my nostrils, and reflexively, I inhaled deeply, enjoying the special scent I associated with her.

"Sya..." she whispered, drawing my eyes to hers. The love within her was immense, and as she held my gaze, I could subtly feel the air around us beginning to warm. It was a warmth which countered the coolness entering me through her hand, creeping up my arm and settling between my breasts, causing my heart to beat a little faster and a little harder.

"Zhuri..." I replied, her smile mirroring mine. But we could say nothing more, for we both felt the indicators momentarily breaking as, still within the tree line, two non-magical people approached the plateau from the well-trodden trail.

Soon they arrived. As was the custom for the lovers, they had shed their clothes before entering the clearing. He bore quite a few scars and even a bruise below his left eye, making me wonder if he was a fighter; his muscles certainly would have been useful for fighting, whether in defense of the kingdom or for sport in the evenings outside certain taverns. She was nearly his height, which in my experience was unusual for a woman of any lineage, and she also bore a few scars. Both of them were clearly comfortable in their nudity, even around strangers, which would make the ceremony at hand all the more powerful, further enhancing the stringent bond which would soon link their souls.

I introduced Zhuri to the lovers and informed them that she and I would be weaving the spells and maintaining the fires. My partner assured them that despite the flames, no harm would come to them, and the young woman breathed a small sigh of relief as she squeezed her lover's hand.

We briefly discussed the details before I finally gestured the lovers toward the stone altar. With great caution, they both stepped onto the hard-packed dirt, the young man helping his mate to jump over the filled trench which formed the inner circle. After crossing other trenches, they stood at last before the altar, each of them kneeling before it and reverently kissing its intricately-carved northern face.

That was when Zhuri and I walked in opposite directions around the outer circle, ultimately standing at the eastern and western points. The lovers stood before the altar, holding hands as they glanced from my companion to me and back to Zhuri. Even when I closed my eyes, I could feel their gazes upon me as I raised my arms, the sleeves of my robe sliding a little down my arms and exposing the ever-lengthening Marks of the Mage which crept down my arms like vines traveling over time along a wall.

I could feel the lovers' eyes upon my arms, marveling at the dark blue lines forming what to many would appear to be random lines and curves. As the chant continued, I could feel key portions of the randomness warming, and soon, as the energy created by the chant continued to grow, those key areas began to glow, forming magical symbols which few without the calling of magic could even hope to eventually decipher.

My voice rose along with that of my lover, matching the level of the energy being created between us. Even if they did not truly understand what was happening, the couple standing before the altar certainly would have been able to feel something different around them. If nothing else, as the final rays of warmth faded into night, they likely felt warmer, not cooler, despite the absence of direct sunlight.

The chant continued. I was feeling quite warm within the robe, but experience allowed me to "forget" about the excess heat.

Almost instinctively, I widened my arms outward from my torso, like a mighty eagle soaring on the highest winds of the kingdom. Knowing Zhuri was mirroring my gestures, I slowly brought my arms forward, keeping them extended, the movements assisting our minds in pushing the energy forward and focusing it on the inner circle as the chant continued.

I heard the old wood and leaves suddenly erupt into tall flames barely a heartbeat before I felt the strong heat buffet me. The rapidity of the ignition had created a quick strong burst of wind, blowing outward from the inner circle to more forcefully wrap my robe around my body, and also blowing inward to startle the lovers. I heard the young woman give a shout of surprise, but hearing nothing more from her, even without opening my eyes, I knew that all was well. The chant continued, and a few moments later, the fuel within the straight-line trenches erupted into flames.

Only then did I finally open my eyes. The normal yellowish-orange flames one typically associates with fire rose from the circular trench, but between the flickering flames, I could see the much cooler pinkish flames forming a star pattern, with the lovers and the stone altar at the very center of the magical workspace. Still standing before the altar, the lovers were looking around, their eyes wide with amazement and a hint of fear as they took in the flames rising from the trenches.

"The knife." Zhuri's voice carried nicely over the sound of the crackling tinder. The man and the woman both looked at her and nodded as if of one mind, and then he bent down to retrieve the knife from its earthen sheath, the blade unsullied by the hard-packed dirt. As he turned the knife in his hand as if he was inspecting it, the spelled blade nicely mirrored the pink and yellow-orange flames, displaying their attractiveness in a way I had never previously noticed.

From the previous instructions, the man knew exactly what he was to do. Carefully, he raised his left hand, the palm facing the twinkling stars overhead, and using the tip of the blade, he slowly and carefully cut a short line down the center of his palm. I could not see, but I knew that blood seeped through the unnatural opening. I watched as he shifted the handle of the knife to his left hand, then proceeded to make a similar cut in the palm of his right hand before giving the knife to his companion so that she could also purposely cut her hands.

Once their combined four palms had been carefully and almost painlessly sliced, the woman knelt to once again embed the blade in the earth. Only then did they finally mount the altar.

This was the part of the ceremony which changed from couple to couple. The binding power of the spells came from the length of time the partners' hands were linked, so their blood could mingle and increase the flow of the energy created by their sexual union: The energy would flow from one partner into the other, continuing in a cycle and gathering strength and power throughout the carnal act. Any excess energy from when their hands were not joined would be contained within the five-sided space bounded by the pinkish flames, with the altar absorbing the energy and reflecting it back into the couple. To ensure that the majority of their bonding energy did not escape, Zhuri and I needed to form a dome over the scene, and with the smoke from the flames as a guide, we had a proper visual reference for the dome's construction.

Zhuri, like me, raised her arms again, and began to chant. Our voices mingled nicely as my eyes moved from the rising smoke to the two lovers settling side-by-side upon the altar. I watched the couple as they embraced, noting how his large hands touched her carefully and gently despite the crushing power he could certainly exert upon her thinner form. His touches definitely calmed her, for I could sense her nervousness slowly receding, especially as her own touches of his body began to become bolder.

As they touched, their blood continued to slowly seep from their cut palms and thus was spread across each other's body. When they linked hands for the first time, his right hand to her left hand, they both trembled visibly, and I smiled to myself as I continued the chant, recognizing what they were experiencing for perhaps the very first time of their young lives: the feel of raw magical power, still weak within them, but present and significant nonetheless.

The chant changed slightly, with Zhuri and me both focusing our power to forming the dome. As the young couple continued to engage in their foreplay, slowly us mages were able to bend the smoke to our will, creating a tall circular wall which soon curved inward upon itself. Anyone entering the clearing at that time would have seen the smoke's unnatural rise, noting how its column rising into the night air was gradually narrowing until, at the very top of the dome, only the slimmest of persons would be able to fit through the gap through which the excess smoke was permitted to escape. It was still possible to see through the wall of smoke and watch over the young couple, but I did need to peer a little more intently through the smoke and the flames, and it was nearly impossible to Zhuri on the other side of the magical workspace.

With the building phase of the ritual having been completed, Zhuri and I could at last take turns simply maintaining the workspace and ensuring the proper flow of the magical power being created within. I heard the subtle yet telling shift in my companion's chant, and responded with one of my own before her soft voice faded into obscurity. Despite the fatigue in my throat, I continued the chant, thankful that I could at last lower my arms to my sides.

As my chant continued, I peered through the dark smoke and the colorful flames. The lovers had changed position so that he was on his back as she bent over him, her hair obscuring their kiss from my view. They were again holding hands, and although I could not see past their heads to the other side of the altar's surface, I could sense that they had at last created a full circle of power between them, their comingling blood facilitating the power's flow and gradual building to strengthen and enhance their bond.

While my eyes kept glancing up at the top of the smoky dome to ensure that its structure was still intact, much of my attention was focused upon the couple atop the altar. Their mutual hand-holding had ended for the moment as she essentially crawled down his body. Since she was no longer laying upon him, I could clearly see how aroused he had become, his erection thick and long and probably quite weighty upon his belly. For just a moment, I envisioned him kneeling behind her, his hands seizing her hips tightly as he plunged violently into her body, making her claw at the altar's surface and scream passionately from the brutality of that single penetration.

That quick vision, that base thought, was enough to make me recognize the warmth and wetness which had formed between my legs. While I always became somewhat aroused from conducting this ceremony for the benefit of others, I was a bit surprised at just how aroused I had become from that one vision.

How long had it been since a man had last been inside my body? Perhaps three years, or was it four years? I recalled that it was behind a tavern when I was traveling. I remembered having been drowning my sorrows in a sweet-tasting ale with several men fawning over me as the brew eased my mental pain and opened me to their advances. In the end, only two of them made use of my body, and I had never forgiven myself for that terrible night...

Yet as I watched the young woman upon the altar taking her partner's erection into her mouth, I saw that which had been severely lacking on that night long ago: love. The man and the woman upon the altar truly loved each other. It was evident in their body language. It was evident in their genuine smiles whenever their eyes connected. It was evident in how she clearly relished having his male anatomy between her lips, smiling slightly even as her thin lips slowly slithered down his length.

It was not the first time that watching a couple at the center of this specific ceremony had aroused me, but it was evident that this man and this woman truly loved each other. Admittedly, some of the couples who wanted to be bound in this manner did it for what I felt were the wrong reasons, but this couple... It was just a guess, but I had a feeling that they had passionately loved each other in at least one previous life, and that, consciously or not, they had sought each other in this life and longed to be bound by this ceremony as a recognition of the prominence of their love.

The love that Zhuri and I shared might not have been as physically strong as the love which already bound the couples upon the altar, but our love still sustained me and comforted me, to the point that I had been considering asking Zhuri to perform this ceremony with me - not as facilitators, but as the couple to be bonded.

Above the sounds rising from the straight and circular trenches, I could hear the man's groan as his mate bobbed her head faster with a hand simultaneously stroking him. I wondered if some of her own blood from her hand had tainted her lips, but if it had, she did not appear to care. I had a feeling that she had become practically oblivious to the flames, the chant, the two strangers watching as she pleasured him. She seemed to be completely unaware of anything save for him, his pleasure, his enjoyment of their foreplay.

My lover's voice rejoined the chant. That was good, for my voice needed to be rested. A few moments later, I softened my voice before finally halting my performance, Zhuri's voice continuing the task. I watched for a few moments longer, absolutely amazed by how strong the love of this couple was, before I finally turned and stepped away, heading toward the spring just within the tree line to the north of the circle.

Within the trees, the air was cooler, being well away from the heat of the flames. Even while still wearing the robe, I felt better without the constant heat wafting around me. With practiced ease, I found the spring and knelt, cupping my hands to collect the pure water and draw it to my parched lips. I do not know how long I remained there as I drank from the earth, but I could plainly hear my companion's continuing chant, and I could only faintly hear the sounds of the burning within the various trenches.

I rose at last but remained amongst the shadows of the trees, watching Zhuri. She stood with her wrists crossed behind her, at the small of her back, her posture one of proud self-confidence as her voice continued to control the form the smoke-walled dome. Shifting my attention to the altar, I saw that the woman was laying upon the man, their hands locked together as they kissed anew with an intensity I had not witnessed from a couple in a long, long time.

Watching the young couple made my arousal intensify, to the point that I truly wanted to shed my robe and stand naked amongst the trees, touching myself as I witnessed the physical manifestation of their love. I was no stranger to being nude in Nature nor around others, for there were several ceremonies the coven would always perform wearing nothing other than head adornments designed to help us all visualize the various roles being enacted. Yet touching myself during that particular time seemed improper, to the point of potentially profaning the clear love enveloping the couple upon the stone altar.

As I felt my wetness trickling down the inside of my thighs, I emerged from the trees, purposefully walking not to my previous position, but to my companion. I saw her glance in my direction, but otherwise her attention remained focused upon the couple, the flames, the dome of smoke, and the continuing chant. When I reached her, I simply placed my hands upon Zhuri's shoulders, closing my eyes for a moment and willing my love into her. The chant did not falter as she opened herself to receive what I wanted to give her, and when she reached back with her hands to gently caress my hips, I felt her love flowing into me in return, her chant unwavering in the process due to the many years of practice.