I spend the better part of a day winding my way across the broken land. The white, icy belly of the glacier lies behind me, rays of sun scorching my watery eyes as she reflects the light towards her abandoner. The rugged, contoured and grey body of the mountain, her never-ending lover, seems to dislike my presence. Perhaps my bond with his love is too demanding. He places fast flowing creeks and steep crevasses in my way, forcing me to retrace my steps time and time again. This is unknown terrain to me. Enemy territory. I thank the Gods they are no longer on my heels.
Knee high willow greets me as I descend towards the valley. Far away on the horizon I see a sparkling, emerald presence, revealing the end of my journey. The head of the snake. The snake that wound its way into my land and stole everything. Burnt our villages and killed my people. Enslaved the remaining few. I will never forget the sight. A long, black line of my kin, stretching as far as my eyes could see. Heading away. Across the hills and into exile. Not a living soul remaining beside me. She was among them then. Ravaged and beaten, but proud. My princess. My love. I am the prince of ash and blood.
Stupefied I fall to the ground as an arrow suddenly protrudes from my chest. The carefully knapped flint head engraves itself on my retinas as I look down in disbelief. Blood gushes forth from the clean cut behind it. Mixed with pink foam as I gasp for air. I am on my feet again, stumbling forwards. Grasping the rock ledge and heaving myself over the edge. A moment of free-falling bliss before I am immersed in the cold water. Hurled away, down towards the valley. Rocks bruise my body. Water fills my lungs. I savour the taste of my lover’s fluids before a hard blow to the head relieves me of consciousness.
I open my eyes, eagerly awaiting reunion with my cindered kin. But they are not there. An angel hovers above me. “Please, take me to them.” I beg the beautiful presence to fly me across the ocean to the land of the dead. I cannot lie here in limbo.
“You are not dead, my dear. I thought you were, when I found you. The white mother brought you to me. Sending her carnivorous minions to alert me of your presence. She must truly love you. For she slowed your heart and blessed me with the means to your revival. And she must truly love me for bringing you here.”
Plumes of translucent steam rise through the red glow of the hearth as she pours another bowl of water onto the stones. Starlight flickers through a hole in the roof, but I only have eyes for her. Dark strands of hair, black as night, flow around her face, framing full, red lips. A heavenly smile radiates towards me, and my heart begins to pound. I gaze down towards her round, perfectly shaped breasts glistening with sweat. Running down towards the dark and erect nipples. I feel a careful hand embrace my groin as she leans over and touch her lips to mine. A flash of green trails across her retinas before she closes her eyes in bliss.
Her scent is strong, filling my nostrils and fuelling my arousal. Lips dance and tongues glide tirelessly over each other. I wince from pain as I try to lift my arms and embrace her warm body, and she shakes her head just an inch. “You are not strong enough, my love. Let me.” Her fingers caress my eager manhood. Stroking, exploring every inch. Every bulge and vein. Every part of my pounding member. I flinch each time she traverses the uneven landscape beneath the summit, slowly crossing the tight, narrow bridge towards the cleft above. Sticky droplets stretch into strands as she brings them to her lips.