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From: Delta <delta@nym.alias.net>
Subject: {ASSM} "Dark was the Path" by Delta
Date: Thu, 14 Sep 2000 00:10:07 -0400
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RE

Should you wish to comment upon my story, I can be reached by 
E-mail at: 

delta @ nym . alias . net

Comments and critizisms are welcome.

Standard disclaimers:  This is a work of fiction - no character 
within is a depiction of any real person, living or dead.  No 
place or event described within exists outside of the writer's 
imagination.  All rights retained by the author and this post
is for private use of the reader only.  It is not to be published 
in any form whatsoever, including being made available on BBSs, 
or on Web Pages, without the express prior consent of author.
     Any readers who are underage in the jurisdiction in which
they reside are asked to please pass by.


Delta.

                      DARK WAS THE PATH
                         by Delta (c) 2000

     Dark was the path.  The rising wind blew branches together 
and wailed through tops of the trees.  Down below there was 
protection from the force of the wind, but the sound of it drowned
out all else.  Someone could be walking two steps behind me and 
I'd never hear him.  I'd know nothing until the hand came down 
upon my shoulder . . . or worse.  It was not a good feeling and I 
quickly turned, my eyes trying to pierce the darkness.
     Nothing.  Nothing, but I did not laugh at my foolishness,
for I was not being foolish.  Nothing, but I was not relieved.
Nothing, perhaps . . . nothing, yet.
     I drew my cloak more tightly about me as I ventured deeper
into the forest.  Now and anon there would be a break in
the clouds and the moon would shine through, full and bright.
During those fleeting moments I looked quickly around.  I looked
but saw nothing.  Nothing but the gaunt skeletons of trees, 
through whose fallen leaves I now kicked my way.
     My heart was beating faster.  Why was I doing this?  What
drew me to the depths of the forest upon this night?  A double 
knock of branch against branch had me spinning, breath catching 
in my throat.  Wildly I looked about.  Nothing.
     Yet it wasn't nothing.  Somehow there was a difference 
between the wind's unknowing violence in the branches and this.
The ear can hear; the senses which we rarely use can rightly
judge the deliberateness of that which is not caused by random 
gusts of wind.  
     Again.  And again I spun--the sound from behind.  My hood
blew off and my long black hair was set free, streaming in the 
wind which grew ever more forceful as I climbed through the 
thinning trees to the top of a small knoll.
     There was electricity in the air and all the tiny, invisible
hairs of my arms rose.  It was near.  Close and I wanted nothing
more than to turn back.  Back the way I'd come.  But it was close,
and the way back not an option.  They were *behind* me, pushing me 
ever onwards.  They--whoever, whatever they were.
     The wind at the top of the knoll was fearsome.  I relaxed
my hold upon the cloak and it fluttered out behind me as I faced
into the wind.  The cloth of my blouse was pressed hard against
my breasts, my body outlined against the sky, for any below who
might be watching--and watching they were.  I could feel it.
     How long I stood there, I know not.  Darkness was all
around, yet I was safe.  Safe as long as I stood, face into the
wind, upon that knoll.  Safe under the moon, under the scudding
clouds, baring my soul and all that I was to the elements.  None
could touch me upon the knoll.  And the wind blew through my hair,
through my clothes and, when I opened my mouth to it, through me.
I was at one with it and strong.  Here, none could match my 
strength, or so it felt.
     Yet on the knoll I could not stay.  Disdaining to wrap the
cloak about me once more, I began the descent.  Long steps, 
careless in the darkness, heedless of the stone which might
turn the ankle, of the root which might trip, of the hole which
might catch the foot and break the leg. 
     Let them come now!  Let them try me, for I was no longer
afraid.  It had never been like this before.  I wondered how
long it would last; wondered when the fear would rise like it had
every time previous, its tendrils stifling and cold.  I wondered,
but I did not wait for it.  Instead I strode forth, onwards.
     How I managed to keep my confidence I know not, for the
forest watched.  Eyes watched.  Feline eyes, yea, and others.
Why I felt not the cold I cannot tell.  My cloak remained open,
my warmth a gift to the forest, freely given, yet maintained.
     Sooner than I was ready, I saw it.  In the distance a 
bonfire flickered.  I looked around, seeking landmarks.  Larger,
the circle was larger this time.  What did that portend?  I 
turned toward the flickering flames, my pace slower though not
timid.  Not yet.
     The wind dropped away and all that was in me screamed out
to leave this unnatural calm.  I walked on, head held high, 
watching for the one who would come to me, who always came.
     How could there be calm, when the fire flickered its 
essence to the wind?
     Figures moved from the shadows, dancing a strange dance,
moving to an unheard drum beat.  Then I was within and I, too,
heard the drums and my body began moving in the prescribed way,
the way it knew, though I did not.
     More figures this time.  Each indistinct, each aware of me,
of each other.  We moved about the fire, swirling like eddies of
air caught by the flames, drawn in and tossed out again.  The
flames alternately lit and left us.  I looked at no one's face 
and none looked at mine.
     The smell of smoke was in the air, smoke of a wood I didn't
know, smoke which I breathed in, smoke which inflamed my senses.  
My hand  reached out into the smoke and darkness, was met and held 
in another hand.  The one.
     I pulled him forward and looked upon his face as he looked
upon mine.  It was a face strong and intelligent; however, it was 
not a face of our world, of our time.  Always before I had 
struggled against the inevitable.  Struggled against my own
body as it betrayed me.  Not this time.
     The furs were dark and soft.  My bare feet reveled in the
warmth as I removed my cape and then my skirt.  My blouse, he
unbuttoned and spread, baring my breasts, their nipples hard and
aching.
    I smiled as I heard his intake of breath, smiled wider as I
felt his excitement.  We broke apart and I melted down into the 
furs, observing as he removed his rough garments.  My pale skin
was nicely offset by the dark furs and I lay there, his White
Goddess.  His eyes were fast upon me, held by his vision of a 
beauty I could only imagine, so intense was his gaze.  Then he,
too, was naked.  My God came for me and I opened for him, moist 
and ready.  So very ready, his not-so-virgin sacrifice.
     "Oh!"  I gasped as he entered me and we began the age-old,
timeless dance.  The drums beat in the background and we moved
to the rhythm.  He was strong and relentless but I rose to 
meet him, hooked my heels behind him and pulled him into me
again and again until my strength was gone and my legs held his
sides and bounced as he moved ever faster.
      My eyes opened to the knowledge that he'd stopped.  I
looked at him and he smiled, the smile warm and friendly.  That,
too, was different.  The need was upon us both and in giving in
I received.  The energies of this place filled us both and my
strength returned.  It was the way it was intended.  I know not 
how I knew, but I knew and I turned over and rose upon my knees 
and elbows when he withdrew.  Then he was behind me and all was 
fury and storm once again.
     I pushed back into his thrusts until my arms gave way and
my upper body collapsed onto the furs.  He kept up his assault 
and my breasts swung with each meeting of our bodies.  My nipples
were being tickled unmercifully as the rubbed against the furs;
my breath came in pants; all that mattered was our joining.
     "Let go," his wordless direction impressed itself upon my
mind and I screamed.  At the same moment I heard a roar from him
and he fell upon me, driving me down into the soft furs, my legs
splayed wide.
     The beat of the drums was comforting and sleep overcame.
When I woke he was gone, as was the moon.  A faint lighting along
the horizon told of the approaching dawn.  I rose and dressed,
feeling others around the dying fire doing the same, though I did 
not actually see any of them.
     I was ready to go.  I took one last look at the embers then 
stepped out of the circle and raised my arm.  The cab came to a halt 
beside me and I climbed in.
     "Where to, Lady," the cabby asked.
     "West 21st," I replied, my eyes on a young man who had 
suddenly appeared across the street.  Our eyes met and held for
a moment before he turned away.
     The cab started and I sat back and tried to think.
     The barrier was getting thinner with each year.  There was
a merging going on.  Every time more were drawn in.  What was
happening?  Who could I tell?  Who would believe?  None.  
     Next year . . .  Next year I would not be in the city,
I decided.  My harsh laugh caught the cabby's attention.  It 
wouldn't matter.  It was a cycle and I was trapped in it.  No,
next year would find me in the forest again.  But, I grinned,
next year would be glorious.  
     "Keep the change."
     "Thanks, Lady."
     Pulling my cloak more tightly about me I made my way to the
door.  It was warm to my touch.  It shouldn't be warm.  I put the
key in the lock and turned it.  The door swung open and I stepped
through.

END

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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