The Chronicles of Heaven's War: Burning Phoenix (10 page)

Unseen eyes watched from behind the ancient walls as
the motor coach scurried away into the gathering darkness,
contented and pleased. Yes, a new age was about to begin, and the
Fates had chosen those two men to help welcome its arrival.

* * *

Darla gracefully pirouetted about the floor on
tiptoes, arms spread wide and fingers gently holding high the
flowing ends of her sheer silk cape. Once more she slowly pivoted
on her toes before turning to a stop, facing Lowenah, dropping her
arms to her sides. She stood there, an absolute picture of
mesmerizing beauty except for the sour look on her face.

That look only soured the more when she watched the
dancing twinkle and growing toothy smile on Lowenah’s face.
“Beautiful! Oh, so beautiful!” Lowenah exclaimed, clasping her
hands together in pleasure as she spoke.

Lowenah’s excited compliments did nothing to soften
Darla’s sour appearance. She turned her head to study the person
standing there in the mirror, sputtering, “I look like a
whore…
some Canaanite whore!
” As she continued to examine the
woman in the mirror who was also examining her, she felt a strange
erotic sensation growing within her breast, soon followed by a
troubling ache in her groin. The woman in the mirror was seducing
her. Wait!
She
was that woman!

Darla quickly broke her hypnotic gaze and stared at
Lowenah. She cried out in a pouting whine, “My heart burns to have
relations with the woman in the mirror. Mother! I want to make love
to me! Mother! What are you doing?
What have you done to
me?
”

Before Lowenah could reply, Darla’s eyes were drawn
back to the erotically stunning woman standing before her. The
visual image alone was making the girl’s heart race with desire.
Suddenly, without warning, Darla began groaning with delight as one
orgasmic spasm after another rushed through her. How long she
lingered there, surrendering to her concupiscent desires, before
forcing her eyes away from the bewitching woman in the mirror, she
did not know. On wobbly legs, she made her way to the bunk and sat
down beside Lowenah, exhausted.

Lowenah’s laughing eyes looked deep into Darla’s.
“Did my child have a good time? Isn’t it amazing what a little
jewelry and some makeup can do?”

Darla did not immediately reply. Though embarrassed
over her reactions to viewing herself in the mirror, she desired to
linger in the afterglow of such a profound experience, wishing not
to hurry those feelings into haunted memories. Still, she was
uncomfortable over what happened.

Darla was not one to practice self-excitement. Only
when the wine was on her or when in a deep melancholy mood did she
surrender to her inner cravings. To her, such feelings were to be
reserved for times when she was wrapped in the arms of another
lover, a rather rare occurrence for the girl. Other than
Euroaquilo, who was away most of the time, and the occasional
impassioned interlude with Zadar, lovers were few and far between.
Now, just an image - and of herself - and her body revolted to
indulge in primal desires. And she had consummated that visual
union with such ardent intensity that her legs could barely carry
her weight to the bunk. This was truly disconcerting.

Lowenah rested her hand on Darla’s knee, patiently
allowing the woman time to bask in the after-moments.

Finally Darla broke the silence, speaking up
confused and a little dismayed. “For what purpose, Mother, have you
done this to me, to make me so abhorrently seductive that I cannot
gaze upon my own image without wetting myself with excitement?”

Wearing her motherly grin, Lowenah replied, “Why not
become excited over your beauty? You do not see your true nature,
but there it is, in the mirror, seducing even you.”

Darla shook her head, denying it. “That is not me,
not in my true nature. Look! I was not born bedecked with jewels
and ornaments, with painted eyes and toenails, and my skin by
nature is milky white. You have made me burn my flesh with those
tanning machines until dark like ocher I have become, looking
little different than those temple prostitutes who sold their flesh
for the honor of their gods.”

Lowenah frowned, putting on a little pout. “They did
it to honor their gods, maybe. You honor me, and never once have I
asked you to sell your flesh to do so. Yet, if they so willingly
gave of themselves to honor wicked and evil gods, am I demanding so
much to ask you to attire your flesh in these trappings for
me?”

It was Darla’s turn to frown. “You know that for you
I would cut out my beating heart if it so much as pleasured your
soul for me to do it! Everything I have is yours to do with as you
please, even if it be only on a whim. This, though, I do not
understand.” She pointed at her clothing and jewelry. “Why now, at
this Prisoner Exchange…and why me?”

Lowenah looked her child up and down, musing. Darla
did certainly look an erotic sight to behold. She was adorned with
baubles and bangles galore, from her bejeweled, braided gold
headband and ruby inlaid chrysolite ear bobs to the ivory pearl
necklaces and tinkling bells on her anklets, along with the
bracelets, armlets, nose pins, and several other and, at times,
provocative piercing pins. And, oh yes, Darla’s richly thick, long,
dark brunette tresses were tied into a thousand finely woven braids
that swaddled her body half way down the girl’s back, each braid
supporting dozens of sparkling jewels that glistened bright when
the light fell upon them.

These things alone made Darla very alluring, but
Lowenah had done so much more to prepare her darling for the
upcoming exchange. A red, tooled, diamond-studded leather belt, a
handbreadth in width, rested snuggly on the woman’s curvaceous
hips, supporting an elegant short sword dagger encased in a black
diamond and red ruby sheath. “It is better for them to see deadly
beauty than a helpless maiden.” Lowenah had said when asked about
it.

Also hanging from the belt was a highly decorated
sporran, placed there in a halfhearted attempt to cover Darla’s
womanly beauty, its very iridescent design made to captivate the
searching eye, encouraging it to seek a peek at the hidden
treasures beneath. Other than her flowing, sheer silken cape, the
sporran and belt were all that covered the woman’s naked flesh.
There was also a pair of red, open, high-laced sandals of the
finest snakeskin for Darla to wear, Lowenah saying it would help
protect her feet from the blistering sands.

Oh yes, there was one more item of jewelry that
Lowenah so much desired her girl to wear, an item that troubled
Darla - a golden chain consisting of thousands of minuscule bells
hanging from two clasps, one each piercing a nipple on Darla’s
voluptuous, spherical breasts. When she moved, the bells would
explode into whimsical, rhythmic melody, unheard by the ear but
stirring any heart attuned to their harmonic music. The chain was
not heavy and did not tug uncomfortably when she moved, but the
silent music deeply troubled the woman with a pining ache, the
tinkling bells being so close to her heart.

Lowenah offered her toothy smile, one that could
melt away the foulest of troubling moods. “You are so beautiful, my
child! Dear one, you bring back memories from so long ago.”

Darla did not smile, asking, “But why now? Why me? I
am your horse maiden at this upcoming affair. As I have asked
before, why do I need to appear as some forgotten Canaanite dancer
who sold her flesh to the demon gods?”

Lowenah sighed, looking down at the floor. “Long
ago, long before you were born, long before Michael,
Euroaquilo…why, long before most of my children were born, my
darling Tolohe and my oldest son, Chrusion, led my other children
in all the grand festivals. There were seasonal festivals, harvest
festivals, birthing festivals, singing, merrymaking, going and
coming, and… and… I guess we had a festival for just about anything
we could think of.”

“Those were truly grand times back then. At first I
hosted the festivals, sharing in the closing evening celebration
myself. Chrusion and I made such a wonderful couple, you know.
There were times I became so wrapped up in my feelings for him that
I secretly desired to hurry time along and carry him away into my
immortal worlds, to have him just for myself. Oh yes, that was so
selfish of me, but so what, it was how I felt about matters.”

Lowenah took Darla’s hand, squeezing it. “Rachel, my
little ewe, back in those times, life was innocent and carefree. My
son was a very loving man to me, caring and gentle. I was his
favorite love for many eons, for ages upon ages. I gave to him the
dream shares that he gave to Tolohe and others. I shared with him
so many secrets from my immortal worlds, wanting him to desire
those worlds, for I planned to take him away to them eventually,
intent on giving into his hand everything I had made.”

A dark shadow crossed Lowenah’s face, it
disappearing as quickly as it arrived. Lowenah cleared her throat.
“Back to my subject… Tolohe and Chrusion would often dress up in
gay-colored costumes that represented animals, birds, clouds,
whatever have you, and feelings, emotions, too. They would then
dance and sing tales to match the costumes they wore, always ending
their stories by falling into each other’s arms and making the
sweetest most beautiful love one could imagine.”

“In time, Tolohe’s dancing became most seductive,
sending the gathered throngs into a heated frenzy. I must tell you,
along with the sweet wine flowing freely, Tolohe’s sensuous moves
and romantic love songs she cried out to the night as she and
Chrusion made their love, set the crowds ablaze with a fever of
passionate interludes of winsome songs in romantic dream
shares.”

She looked into Darla’s eyes, the excitement of
those times dancing in hers. “Visualize in you mind’s eye, the
Valley of HausterZion filled to overflowing with millions of my
children all singing sweet love songs to one another, all at the
same time. The musical refrains of my children’s unleashed
passions, and later the joys of their dream shares calling out to
the immortal worlds…” She rolled her eyes back in fond remembrance.
“It was enough to fill the heart with boundless delight.”

Casting her gaze toward the closed panel door,
Lowenah peered off into the past, remembering with sad fondness
those happy times. “The merrymaking and feasting might last for
days. The Grand Festivals, during the time of the Great Junctures,
went on for months. The sensuous dance and song was only outdone by
the feasting and flow of intoxicating wine.” She looked at Darla,
her eyes sparkling with delightful memories. “The blood grape grew
heavy in the mountains preceding those wonderful festivals. Love’s
madness consumed us all, we burning up our energy through laughter
and wild romance.”

Tipping her head back, Lowenah sighed winsomely. “We
would eventually wake in the afterglow of our fervid exuberance
and, in ones and twos, gather in the morning quiet to reflect on
the good times that were had. As the sun would rise into the sky,
the Consort Divine would begin singing the Parting Song, soon to be
followed by another voice and then another, until the entire throng
had lifted their voices in chorus. When finished, a haunting
silence would fill the entire valley. Gradually, the children would
quietly depart, leaving the valley empty until the time of the next
festival.”

Darla squeezed Lowenah’s hand. “Those must have been
beautiful times, Mother. I missed so much by being born so late.
Tell me, please, how those magic days portend the future days at
the Prisoner Exchange.”

Lowenah smiled sadly, her dreamy visions of past
fantasies clouding over with regrettable memories. She looked down
at Darla’s hand. “That was the way it used to be, back in the days
of my naivety, when all the universe was innocent.”

She sat upright, her eyes staring into Darla’s. “My
little Rachel, I am sorry for the things I have done to you, must
do. I do not do things on a whim, but pain I cause when necessary.
Please forgive me.”

Darla did not understand, but nodded. “Mother,
there’s…”

Interrupting, Lowenah patted Darla’s hand. “Thank
you. Now allow me to go on.”

Lowenah sat back, pulling a leg up until her foot
rested on the bunk. Wrapping her arms around her knee, she leaned
forward, staring aimlessly toward the door panel. “Winds changed,
sending a subtle chill through our worlds. It was so small a
change, so small that I could not, would not… refused to
acknowledge it. But there were other hearts that felt the whispers
portending hidden dangers. Those hearts spoke to me and I, even
though I would not accept their warnings, was persuaded to listen
and accept their recommendations. Thus the legends of Lagandow with
its wizards and witches, and sorcerers and magicians were
born.”

Darla watched an aching frown drift across Lowenah’s
face. She sat silent as her mother closed her eyes remembering,
remembering times and seasons, might-have-beens that were too
painful to recount. During those moments, her mother’s face aged,
weathered, you might say, like an old tree that leans with the wind
because it is too tired to stand tall. Mother was a good actor, but
Darla could tell that this was real, no act here. Even for Mother,
there were some things just too evil for her heart to recount.

Lowenah slowly opened hers eyes, offering a weak
smile. “My dear Tolohe was the first of all my children to gather
her spirit to those Voices. In time, many thousands of years…
longer than have been the ages of your life… my little girl
returned to me, changed by the visions and dreams of possible
future days. I was not pleased at what the Voices had done to her,
but I continued allowing it until many of my children had followed
my daughter’s footsteps into the dark abyss.”