Awaken to the Sun

Awaken to the Sun By Emy Naso

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Awaken to the Sun Copyright  2004 Emy Naso ISBN: 1-55410-112-3 Cover art and design by Martine Jardin All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher. Published by eXtasy Books, a division of Zumaya Publications, 2004 Look for us online at: www.zumayapublications.com www.Extasybooks.com

Dedication: For all the people who have inspired my writing and zest for life, especially Helene, Rex and Jenny.

Tarot Card: The Sun The glorious Sun bestows the gift of life to all the universe. Its radiance shines down on the innocent nakeness of the people as they walk through a field of sunflowers. When the brilliance of the Sun touches and warms the essense of being it signifies openess and the four elements of Earth, Air, Fire and Water. Its meaning is success, glory, happiness, joy and achievement. It brings pleasure to lovers and vitality in good health. Conversely, there might be delay in achieving the full joy of the sun and, as personified in the Moon's reign, patience must be shown in welcoming the Sun. My story is heavily influenced by a mythological bias and re-works the tale in a Celtic form of the battle between night and day, and the ancients fear that the Sun would not return. As the peoples of the earth gave up hunter-gathering and became farmers, the importants of the Sun was paramount in their lives. The Sun was truly the life giver, the bringer of nascent life.

Emy Naso

When Hope Has Gone

T

he whirlwind danced its way across the red dust plateau, gathering the dominant color from the debris of decayed mountain littering the earth. Mount Ulla was the highest point left on the Qui’sioe mother world, and even this was within sound of the gray ocean of sightless water animals. The priest led the visitors carefully up the twisting path, feeling his way by sliding his hand along the rope guide. The three chiefs of the Raytial Tribe had traveled many turns of the sand clock to reach the holy shrine but the priest, Addino, had no hope. There had been so many prophets, mystics and wise men coming to this place. They reached the Stone of the Endless Night, and a silence fell upon them. Addino ran his bony fingers along the deeply engraved inscription, although he knew it by heart. The three chiefs strained to hear his low-pitched voice. “The Council of Acana has dedicated this monument to the memory of those who once walked in the light. Here at Mount Ulla, the rays of clarity left the land and dipped into the once sparkling ocean, never to return. These are the words of our darkness.”

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Awaken to the Sun Addino now felt the waves of thought and despondency emanating from the visitors. They had heard the words, sensed the place and now lamented once again that the many peoples of Qui’sioe lived in this shadowy world. Where was the man, the woman, the deed, to purge the sin they must have committed? *** Far across the endless plains, the blind horses thundered over the hard, barren soil where the rivers left their straight banks and became muddy inlets of salt and sand. The rider’s chain-mail tunics clanked against swords, strapped to waists and hung by their sides as they rode passed sullen small hamlets. The peoples of the Dunes hid from the hell of these soldiers of The Moon Master. After many turns of the sand clock, the lead rider held high the flame of the sinful torch, indicating to the others his intension to stop at the small town of Gwalgon. They swept through the fields and hit the cobbled main street with a clattering like the killing machines of The Master’s castle. The town folk of Gwalgon stood and watched the soldiers, knowing it was financial suicide to try and hide. Unlike their county brethren, the Dunes town dwellers were depended on the Moon Master’s control of water, heating and food supplies. They worked on his estate, shod his soldier’s horses, made the clothes, mined for the precious black liquid, which fuelled the flames of the sinful torches. Their men toiled in these labors, their women cooked and wove

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Emy Naso the flame heads…and the pretty ones, both male and female, were the night comforts to the Moon Master and his entourage, keeping the dreams of the light at bay. The captain of the troop, with his Eight of Cups emblem on his shoulder, dismounted and angrily looked around at a group of young lads who where locked in fear and admiration of the smart and devilish uniforms of the soldiers. “You two, take the horses and feed them. Keep them safe from the smell of terror in their images of blind panic. Go…quickly.” The captain grabbed another youth by the scruff of the neck and held him up. “What a puny lad. Before we die of starvation, walk in front of us to the tavern and then go and tell your local council to assemble a night’s peaceful rest for us." As the kid scampered up the road, the group of soldiers raucously laughed and strode behind the skinny youth who led them to the tavern. *** The people had heard them coming right across the Dunes. For outsiders, the drifting sands, undulating for thousands of miles, seemed to deaden all sound. It was a horror, told in frightening tales of travelers getting lost in the sea of sand and their cries of help being muffled by the absorbent silicon fields. For those who were born to the sandy soil, the clear echoes were like listening ears, billowing the faintest of noise into an eddy of quiet air and then piercing

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Awaken to the Sun the silence through a treeless landscape. Only when the wind raised the sand storms to murderous heights did the hush of the grave prevail. As the soldiers marched in broken formation into the tavern, the owner, his staff and the other visitors, sat or stood at their places, showing respect and sullen acceptance. Food and drink was already set on a long wooden bench table and the candles had been hooded with the green glass so beloved of the Moon Master. Any greater illumination would have been an abomination to the Moon worshippers. The captain grunted a rough approval and sat at the table’s head. His six soldiers, three men of the Swords clan and three women of the Pentacles tribe, sat either side and immediately commenced eating. There was a low rumble of conversation amongst the other visitors at the tavern, trying to act casually but always aware of the others amongst them. Long ago all the peoples of Qui’sioe had come from the same lands beyond the stars and it was a harmonious community. Since the light had gone, tribes and clans had appeared. Differences were magnified and it became a separated world. The affiliated peoples giving allegiance to The Moon Master were dominant, and no one alive could now recall a time when it wasn’t always so. The eating, drinking and murmuring voices stopped. The doors of the tavern opened and the flag bearer of the town of Gwalgon preceded the local council and their night offerings to the dreaded light of dreams. “I am Renwald, leader of our humble council,” the

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Emy Naso man in front of the gathering announced. “ These are my diviners, my advisors…and these are our offerings.” The captain and his soldiers looked in a cursory way at the council. Their eyes quickly and hungrily studied the line of offerings. The Eight of Cups captain was attracted by a blonde woman with a full, rounded figure. He licked his lips and saw her hips and belly as a comfort from the dreaded early morn. *** His second in command, a woman of the Pentacles tribe, was smiling lasciviously at a young man. The Gwalgon fellow was about her age. His hands were strong and steady. Probably a mineworker, she thought and her vagina, sore from the long ride, ached for the release of his cock and those rough hands guiding her to erotic fantasy. *** The soldiers threw the tokens of The Moon to their chosen bedmate and were then satisfied that the night was safe. An hour later, Ruela of Pentacles walked in front of Raewalf of Gwalgon, leading him to her allocated bedchamber. She stopped on the spiral stone stairs and looked back at him over her shoulder. He was a fine and sexually diverting partner who must keep her from the dread of the morning. For thousands of years the night had been followed by more blackness. She had to stop the dread of the light

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Awaken to the Sun returning. Sexual gratification locked the horror out.

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Emy Naso

The Dreaded Light of Dreams

F

or months there had been rumors reaching The Moon Master’s land that the One Who Has Died had risen. There were always false claims and enough people who hated the Moon Master to ferment sedition and unrest. These reports persisted, and Ruela of Pentacles was one of the soldiers sent to investigate. Every time they got close to someone who claimed to have seen evidence, however slight, of the light in the east, the story and the facts faded. It was like trying to capture the very mist of the countryside, and at last the Eight of Cups captain ordered his troop to give up harassing the villages and torturing for confessions. They sent advanced messages by the eagle of the jet-ways to the Moon Master’s castle that said there was no substance in the tales. The one who was called a Disc, a Globe, a Fire Ball, was not alive. The captain didn’t write the correct name down. It would have been instant death to do so. It was now almost seven by seven turns of the sand clock since the soldiers had begun the journey home and Ruela was grateful for the rest here in Gwalgon.

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Awaken to the Sun The male soldiers had taken or forced sexual pleasures in the villages. Even amongst the Moon Master’s troops, it was not considered right for the female soldiers to do the same. Ruela wanted a man to remind her she was a woman. The attraction of Raewalf had been his apparent strength. She had seen the man’s stamina as her salvation in dulling any other senses. Sexual exhaustion after a night’s athletics was a wonderful remedy for the dread of the returning light. Now that she held the flame of a diminutive sinful torch close to him, the fine handsome face, blue eyes and curly auburn hair were appealing to her. “Do you have a partner of the long sand clock?” she asked him as he stood to attention, watching her unlace her high boots. Before he could answer, she pushed his head down and commanded, “You do this, don’t stare at me with those insolent blue eyes. He knelt before her and struggled with the tightly pulled laces. His fingers were made to work; made for her body, she hoped, but not for this intricate manipulation. Ruela was fascinated by his eyes--both alluring, and yet strangely disturbing. She recalled childhood stories told by her mother of the One Who Was Dead, and the charm that could turn the dark skies to a blue of the richest color. Of course it was just a story. Not true. The darkness was as natural and calming as her mother’s milk. Ruela of Pentacles was number five in her family’s precedence. “You are not very good at it, are you?” Ruela laughed as the man still fumbled to remove her boots. She lifted her leg and thumped the right boot on a

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Emy Naso small, low table. “That should help,” she grinned. Raewalf looked up and gave a weak, yet defiant acknowledgement of her action. Ruela was playing games. She hadn’t lifted her leg up to help his task. The soldier knew that her rigid chain mail tunic would allow the night offering crouched before her to be level with her loins, so as he looked forward he would see her naked thighs and the hot lips of her clitoris. Like all the female warriors, she wore no undergarments on the long horseback rides and Ruela’s tribe had always practiced the ritual of shaving their pubic hair before finding the first man to make them groan in sensual pleasure. After the sexual initiation rites, they remained hairless and used the creams made by the Matriarch of the Pentacles to keep them smooth at their loins. “Is it your custom in Gwalgon to cast your gaze so openly on a women’s vulnerability?” Her reprimand was contrived to embarrass Raewalf. It had the right effect. He tried looking everyway, but equally Ruela ensured her naked vulva remained in his view. “You know the Moon edict, don’t you?” Raewalf looked up and shook his head. “Such peasants,” Ruela said, enjoying the fun and totally making up the statement about this rule. Playing games was half the enjoyment when you were in control of a man. “It has been degreed that if any man or women from a tribe or clan outside of those affiliated to the Moon Master, deliberately spies on the nakedness of a

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Awaken to the Sun soldier, administrator or one from the priesthood, they shall show their contrition by exposing their body and paying homage to the person who they have offended.” It was all a fabrication. Raewalf bought it as the true word of a Moon Master’s delegate. “Well,” Ruela snapped impatiently. “What are you waiting for?” Raewalf rose from his kneeling position. He understood what she was implicitly demanding. He inwardly shrugged and knew it didn’t matter, she could own and require his submission without this new ruling. He took hold of his woolen tunic, clasping the hem with both hands, raised his arms and took it off over his head. The men of Gwalgon only wore the single garment. Raewalf stood completely naked before Ruela. She openly studied his body. If he did have a regular partner of a long sand clock and had tried to pretend not to be interested in Ruela, he wasn’t concealing it very well. The soldier with closecropped ginger hair framing her face and cleanshaven pussy at her loins looked admiringly at Raewalf’s erect cock. It wasn’t just stiff from his forced view of her golden gates; he was aroused and as upright as any warm vagina could wish. It was not the time of the counting sand clock moments when the fear of the light was at its height, but that didn’t matter. Ruela wanted this man now. “I will drive the stead for our first session.” She sounded excited with the expectation of the sexual

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Emy Naso encounter. He had been with a soldier of the Moon Master before and understood the instruction. The bed consisted of a large square sheet of woven lambswool spread out on the floor. Raewalf spread out on his back and couldn’t help his curiosity and male desire watching Ruela as she unbuckled her heavy tunic, let it slip to the floor and stood above him, legs apart, hands on her hips. His eyes were on her clitoris, smooth folds and slightly moist. Her passion was great and deep in her vagina. She came down on him so that his dick went from vulva entrance to total penetration in one slide. Her bucking and gyrating was immense, and it almost brought Raewalf to a climax. She knew the signs and eased off the fury. He might be ready, but she wasn’t. Ruela sat riding gently in a canter on his hard penis, enjoying the sensation of the bulky brute filling her inside and reminding her that a gallop would restore the rage to her love valley. His eyes shone blue, even in the dimness. His handsomeness spurred her to fulfill a need. Ruela stripped off her leather jacket so her breasts were exposed. In her black, high boots she fucked him until she had soaked their loins and experienced a massive body trembling from head to pussy. She was pleased that he held his stiffness to gratify her and when they fell in a spent bundle, encouraged him to bring her slowly down by kissing her nipples and gently stirring his finger in her wet and willing pussy. They slept for five short turns of the sand clock.

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Awaken to the Sun When Ruela woke, the fear of the dreaded light was upon her. She shoved at the prone, sleeping figure of Raewalf. “Wake up,” she shouted. As he stirred she anxiously massaged his dream breaker until, even though yawning, he was hard and ready. Kneeling and raising her ass, she presented him with her open flower. “Fuck me until the fear of the light has gone from my body,” She commanded. Raewalf didn’t need an order. Ruela had a beautiful figure. He knelt behind her, slid his missile into the gap of her parted legs and entered her vagina. He put his arms around her and stimulated her breasts with his hands as his in-out motion rocked her back and forth. They remained united until the end of the complete turn of sand, once called the daybreak, had arrived. As Raewalf’s juices seared the lining of the soldier’s vagina, she groined in satisfaction at the fuck…and in relief that the one in the past called the Sun had not risen.

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Emy Naso

The Laird of The Moon

T

he main gates of the Moon Master’s castle remained closed, only opening when the priesthood made their ceremonial journeys to the Great Aligned Stones. Captain Eight of the Cups left his troop at the barracks and made the trek along the side of the massive walls to the entrance guarded by Sikmus, the man with the dog’s head, who sat and licked his lips as an eight-arm automaton hurled bones into the castle moat. This was the creature known as the killing machine, and even the tough captain felt sick at the thought of where these skeletons had come from. Documents were checked through the iron bars and not until Sikmus was satisfied and been paid his tribune of a flask of clear water did he unlock the gate and allow the captain to start his ascent. The stairs were flanked by solid granite walls and everywhere the dampness encouraged moss and algae to cover and creep, making each step a hazardous undertaking. The flames of the sinful torch became more infrequent as the captain reached the top of the

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Awaken to the Sun winding stone stairs. He raised the hilt of his sword and struck the metal door with its symbolic boss of a half crescent. The mighty portals swung open and from the interior a green dimness without shadow or definition cast an everlasting night of no hope or end. The hall was so long its perspective seemed to taper into a point at the far side. The Black Raven of the Twilight swooped down and took hold of the captain in its jagged beak. The soldier was sped through the ceaseless space and dropped at the edge of the Haloed Ring. Before the captain was the Awesome Signs of the Moon. To the left, the waxing crescents, and to the right, their mirror shapes in waning. At the center was the Moon in Full; secretive, sly and listening to the fears of the world. A hooded priest ushered the captain forward. As the Eight of Cups military man shuffled with trepidation, he could see the many night offerings that for time without end would await on the pleasure of the Moon and its cohorts. A flaming-red-haired woman of the Skyton Clan stood impassively to his left. Her hair was dressed in the traditional long streaming tails, bound with the feathers of the wild eagles of their lands. Her hands were tied together in front of her as she cast her eyes modestly to the floor. She was wearing a fur skin of an animal unknown to the captain. It was pinned to one shoulder, draped across the left breast, leaving her young right breast naked. The dark brown garment just covered her loins, but it was cut away deeply at her right thigh to expose an appealing

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Emy Naso glimpse of her curly pubic hair. To the right was a man of the Da’ma tribe, muscular, head clean-shaven and adorned with the wide gold belt to show he was an initiated warrior. Heavy chains securely encased his wrists, ankles and neck. He was completely nude and sitting on the floor in front of him was a handmaiden of the Moon, who stretched up her hand to caress to stiffness the proud man’s noble penis. Her action was dreamily performed, for her function was to keep this prize offering in a perpetual state of arousal so that he could serve his purpose and keep the dreaded light of dreams away when they attacked the minds of the Chosen Few. All the way to the Moon in Full was a guard of night offerings. Bodies beautiful, hips shapely, breasts perfect, stomachs round, buttocks desirable, firm molded vulvas, hard straight male cocks. The female and male attendants were waiting for the images to threaten the sanity of the Moon’s cohorts. Then they would perform any sexual diversion demanded. Sensuality was the blinkers of the Moon. “Eight of Cups.” The voice of the Moon in Full insinuated into the mist swirling around its throne. “What news have you brought me?” “We have found no trace or confirmed sightings of the One Who Has Died,” the captain solemnly replied. “And your ritual offering?” The Moon breathlessly intoned in a furtive voice. The Eight of Cups stepped back with a bow and clapped his hands. Through the mist came a dancing

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Awaken to the Sun group of four women and four men. They were accompanied by the music of wailing windpipes and beating wings of a massive hawk bird. Silk squares girded the nubile bodies and you could feel the pulses quicken in the dark, unseen audience. The dancers leaped and somersaulted in an intricate erotic routine. The eight offerings from the tribe of Veroni formed a circle, hand in hand. They swung around in three circuits and as the cadence of the dance momentarily slowed, each one tore away a silk from their bodies. The second stanza brought about another frenzied loop of abandonment, followed by the sensual removal of a silk. The troop of dancers was left with single silks, so that the four women's breasts swayed nakedly as the ring continued. The diaphanous material displayed the delights of their loins, each member of the cohort selecting their individual favorite according to their inclinations. All was raw flesh, tight skin, pleasure zones and sweating bodies. Without coming to a halt, the dancers stripped away the last silks and went into ecstatic gyrating of their bodies. Prancing suggestively, they formed four partnerships in lovemaking. As they performed in their designation positions, the deep purring lust of the onlookers could be heard above the moaning satisfaction of the coupling Veroni. There was a numb crashing of the mind waves and into the center of the copulating ritual dance appeared the Moon Master. The figure was without definite gender; a hermaphrodite of dark art who

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Emy Naso could seduce both man and woman--and by metamorphosis, please and be pleased by both. “Hold back for a slight turn of the sand clock, my licentious Phases. The first choice belongs to me,” he laughed in a hideous expelling of gaseous lewdness. The hall was silent; cohorts flanking night offerings, soldiers and dancers of Veroni, all riveted to the presence of the Shade of The Moon Master. The Stealer of the Rays glided among the dancers. He stopped in front of a blonde woman and there was a smile of lust on his face. The Moon Master ran his fingers gently across her abdomen, grabbed her hips and turned her around. His image power entered her body and she was forced to bend over so that her hands touched the ground in front of her, spreading her legs at the same time. The Moon Master took hold of her thighs, lent his agile frame forward until his devilishly handsome face was near to her presented clitoris. His tongue licked at her pudenda and then his mouth covered her vulva, kissing the soft rim that led to the mystery of her vagina. He brought her up and said. “This is one for my night.” The Moon Master moved along the dancers, touching, caressing and tasting them with hands and lips. The Shades' attentions paused at a broad young man. The shape of the Moon became feminine as she massaged the Veroni male into an erect salute at the loins. Coming close and pressing her torso tight, The Moon she goddess, let the man’s rod slip against taut, stretched skin.

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Awaken to the Sun “And this one.” The inspection continued in a pageantry of orgasmic stillness. The Moon Master leered and examined all the offerings, finally calling another man and woman to his side. He enfolded his hazy form around them both and consumed the oozing honey from their genitalia, mating in their minds and bonding in many ways. “They shall be a long sand turn,” The Moon Master roared. The Master and The Mistress, as one Moon, took the four chosen offerings and started to leave the hall so that the pleasure of the body might hide the dreams. There was a dazzling shaft of light, which rent the gloom and a scream from the cohort. The fear was upon them as warmth and reason shattered the mist. Enlightened thoughts and understanding of clarity were momentarily free. Even the cohort sensed an insight into the liberty of a future. A future with day and night. A future with the return of the Sun. The Moon Master wrapped a protected and imprisoning shroud around the offerings and fled from the hall, to hide deep within the castle, devouring all his offerings in an orgy of sexual appetite.

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Emy Naso

Rhiandon’s World

B

eyond the horizon of the nightly cavern, Rhiandon dipped her toes in the pool. The water was cold, and she longed for the Sun to radiate warmth into its clear depths. The lady was confused about the thoughts forming in her mind. She was young, and her memory went back twenty risings of the omnipotent Sun. As she had wandered along by the stream in the gorge, Rhiandon had come across more of those pictures that fascinated her so much. These images were carved into the limestone walls of the valley and she’d sat puzzling over them for many turns of light and dark. What they depicted were wondrous and almost unbelievable scenes. For time out of mind Rhiandon had seen the Sunrise on the horizon promising to bring life to her domain. These carvings showed the great glowing orb, rising above her world and entering the sphere of these remarkable people. They had written their name as the Qui’sioe. How could the Sun leave the horizon and go into this otherness? What did it do? There were many more drawings. Rhiandon had

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Awaken to the Sun always been alone. It was the way things were. In the carvings she saw images like her, yet some strangely and attractively different. The shape of some of these others was like her, with roundness at hips and the soft buds of breasts. But the tall ones were not as this. They had mystifying short, thick rods at their loins…and she even found one collection of pictures which showed the images in her likeness with the figures of the mesmerizing rods joining together in all manner of arrangements. The beautiful woman stroked her body, touching her loins and feeling the softness of her intimacy. Her curiosity about these others made her delightfully weep at her pubic mouth. She wondered why this was. She had taught herself that caressing her hidden region brought pleasure. How could thinking about these extraordinary figures also make her blush with the moisture of joy? Rhiandon walked slowly into the pool. The refraction of the light made funny, rippled silhouettes of her body, and the woman giggled. The water lapped over her waist, and she liked the pure sensuous penetration of liquid around her vagina. Farther into the pool, the cool water covered her breasts and the coldness stiffed her nipples in a way that Rhiandon thought might please these other figures. She shuddered in enjoyment and didn’t understand why she had sensed that emotion. Rhiandon plunged forward and swam to the near side, letting the water stream all over her body, and again seeing and feeling a peculiar tactile sensation.

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Emy Naso As she pulled her wet body from the water, the Sun appeared above the gorge and its glory shone brightly, so that all that had need was attracted to its power. Rhiandon let its vitality energize her body, and she felt secure in the health-giving rays on her naked skin. The lady without shame let out a cry of magic awe as her Sun pushed up above the curved blue line of the horizon and illuminated a blue world into the beyond. Rhiandon attentively followed into this bright world, and still the Sun went higher. Even though it was beyond her understanding she sensed the Sun had become free and was expanding its influence. “Why do you look at the Sun with such innocent surprise?” Rhiandon turned, never having heard the voice, except that which spoke to her from inside. “Don’t look so scared. I wouldn’t hurt you.” The figure stood a head above Rhiandon’s height. The body, harder and more angular, without her roundness. Was he one of the others with the special wand? She stared at the place… and felt disappointed as it was covered with a brightly colored cloth. When she looked up, the figure was smiling at her. “Why do you stare?” “Because I wanted to see if you were as the others,” Rhiandon plainly asked, then added, “Do you have a name?” “I am Helios of the Wands. I have a twin brother and have become known as Two of Wands.”

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Awaken to the Sun *** “Are you different?” Rhiandon ingenuously pointed at his groin. Two of Wands smiled and recognized the direct openness and naivety of this gorgeous woman. She captivated him, and he tried not to show her how alluring and desirable her naked body was to his eyes and his senses. “Where have you come from?” Helios asked, leaving her own question until he understood more about her. “From below the horizon.” She indicated the far line of her world. The way she moved made Helios fight for control of his passion. “And what is your name?” he asked. “Rhiandon.” “You are a lovely woman, Rhiandon.” She raised a quizzical eyebrow to fathom that meaning. “I am a man,” Helios added. Her glance went back to his loins. Two of Wands felt a self-assurance and confidence in being with Rhiandon. He untied the knot at his waist to let his woven tunic drop to the earth. The lady inclined her head to one side like a pretty tree bird looking at the nectar of the flower. Her interest was in Helios’ wand. *** He held out his hand and she took it. They walked into the glade, where the Sun shed only dappled light, patterned with the outline of the branches.

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Emy Naso “Your world is so vast and bright,” Rhiandon said to her new friend, feeling warmth towards him she had not experienced before. “This is Qui’sioe,” he answered. “And we have waited for a long time for the dazzling Sun to return. Are you the priestess of the Bright One?” “That is a strange question,” Rhiandon stopped and stared at Helios. “Why do you say that?” “Because you have appeared as the stories of the immense sand clock predicted. These tales said that when the Sun broke free from imprisonment by the Moon, first would come a naked fool.” “I am no fool!” Rhiandon was indignant and also blushed at the reference to her nudity. Helios held her close and reassuringly kissed her on the forehead. “I did not mean that. In our mythology, the fool is a beautiful person who is innocently foolish. It is the Sun who directs their imagination so that confusion is dispelled. Now that you have brought the Sun back, my people will once again believe in their worth and trust in their abilities to live by good means.” Rhiandon ‘s face lit up with his words. Her mind was intoxicated with the mental light of this revelation, and the scorching ache in her sweet vagina intensified as Helios’s loin wand erectly pressed against her abdomen. As their eyes met, she knew he was meant for her and had a vision of how they would grow in strength. The Sun rose higher in the blue firmament. Helios knelt before Rhiandon and she shivered with expectancy as his mouth brushed and kissed around her bushy loins. She sank to the earth and side-by-

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Awaken to the Sun side, they gently explored each other, rolling in the bed of leaves carpeting the ground under the trees. Her natural instincts told her to accept and welcome Helios as he eased his body between her open legs and, lightly pressing her down, kissing each of her nipples. His hand stroked the texture of her velvet vulva lips, and the knowledge of love grew in her mind. Helios tuned her vagina with his fingers and when she sung out in ecstasy, his wand entered deeper, where his hand could not reach. For a few passing grains of sand, the man held still in the woman’s love nest. Then an exotic fury possessed them both as their passion filled the glades of the wood. With a cry to the Sun, Rhiandon and Helios united in mind, spirit and body.

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Emy Naso

Creating The Force

T

he wrath of the Moon Master was terrible to hear. If the Sun thought the war was won, then this was but the opening battle. At the castle of the Moon Master, with its two dark foreboding towers, the cohort sat in council, with the distance streaked in the finger flashes of brilliant light. They tried to bring their attentive power back to the war plan checkerboard in front of them, arrayed precisely on a long table. The Phases kept their hoods pulled up high to shield their delicate eyes from any intrusion of light. The combat in the far skies was taking place between the day and night. The Moon in Full was only there in the minds of the assembly, as this Monarch of the Dark was beyond the earth directing his forces against the multitude of the Sun. “Moon worshippers,” the Master shouted, bringing the cohort to order. “Let us have your schemes to release more power for our ghostly fight. “Sacrifice the people,” the cohort of the equinox spat out in bitter spite. “The more death we bring to the world, the more will we encourage the night to

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Awaken to the Sun cast its shadowy gloom.” There was a grating of mumbled malevolence, which stirred the evil whirlwinds to bray at their tethers in the deep canyons of the lonely mountains to the west. “Individual suffering is much more exquisite,” the cohort of the eclipse grinned vilely. There was a muffled hiss of appreciation and agreement. The Moon Master turned to a servant at his side and whispered his instructions. The dungeons of the castle were deeper than the seventh dwelling of Hades' world. In a small cell, Gwenlan of the Wands shook his head and picked himself up from the dusty floor. He was a large man, well over six feet, and had powerful shoulders from his work as village iron sword maker. It had taken six soldiers from the castle of the Moon Master to overpower him. Why he had been brought to this place was a mystery. He heard the click of boots on the rough stone corridor he remembered being marched along. There was a clanking of bolts, scrapping of rust against the massive hinges of the cell door, and six heavily armed soldiers came in, challenging Gwenlan to dare move as they pointed fearsome razor tipped pikes at his body. They were followed in by two more soldiers…and the implication of his incarceration began to horribly form in his sinking heart. Between them they held a young woman, flaxen hair tied in the tribal style of a lady about to be married. “Meteque.” The captive was his intended woman. Gwenlan bared his teeth and flung himself at the

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Emy Naso guards. It took seven of them to pin him back, while the eighth stood sneering and holding onto Meteque. Bundling Gwenlan to the ground, all the soldiers left the cell and the solid doors of the prison slammed shut, echoing an awful finality to the lovers. Meteque ran to Gwenlan; her head buried in his chest and tears wet her cheeks. They didn’t speak, except in attempting words of comfort. It seemed like a measure of many turns of sand that they stood scared and fearful. When the clump of footsteps awakened them to reality, Meteque sobbed and as big as her Gwenlan was, she could not hide. Once again the doors creaked open. The same eight soldiers marched in, this time in formation and in a disciplined fashion. Behind them came the reason for their respect. Two of the Phases slid into the cell, dressed in the opal-green long cloaks of their kind, with tall conical hats, decorated with dull silver stars. The first Phase was a man of pale complexion, vivid dark mauve eyes and an aquiline nose. The other was a strikingly attractive woman. Her skin was almost gray-white, the pupils deepest jet and she wore bluish blushed paint on her high cheekbones and black shadow make-up prominently around her eyelids. The features of the face were feline, with a small, sensitive nose, and when she licked her lips, the teeth were sharp and dangerous. The supremacy of their eyes was terrible to behold and all the soldiers kept their faces turned blankly towards any movement Gwenlan might make. “Prepare the man,” the male Phase commanded. The soldiers struggled to overpower Gwenlan, finally

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Awaken to the Sun tying his wrists and then binding them high above his head to a metal ring set in the low ceiling. He almost dangled in the air, his feet just touching the ground. Meteque watched in horror, held still by a mind trap from the female Phase. The soldiers stood in two lines, rigidly to attention. The Phase cat woman moved to Gwenlan and ripped his tunic off. The muscular man glared at her. She merely smiled contemptuously and put her hand down to the prisoner’s groin to hold his long and ample penis. As she squeezed and played with the stiffening shaft, the alluring Phase looked over at Meteque and pouted her wide mouth. “Have you had this monster in you?” she laughed in a shrieking blast. Meteque modestly lowered her gaze and her eyes moistened. The female Phase snapped her fingers, and a soldier stepped forward. He was carrying a whip, and as Meteque held her hands to her mouth to stifle a screech, a lash cracked through the dark cell and cut Gwenlan’s back. Again the whip scarred his body, and then a third time. The male Phase came forward, took the whip from the soldier and went over to Meteque. Gwenlan thrashed about to break his bonds. The stunningly attractive Phase lent close to him and whispered in his ear. “The soldiers would like to strip and whip your Meteque. And I’m sure they would find other amusements with her. But you can save her from the experience.” She ran her fingers over his cock and brought it back to an erection.

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Emy Naso “Have you broken the woman’s flower head? Never mind, just listen to me. We will leave you alone. Undress Meteque and then penetrate her. Make your love making long and full…then we will spare you both.” The feline face stared arrogantly into Gwenlan’s eyes, and then walked over to her companion. At a signal a soldier moved over to Gwenlan and slashed at his ties with a short broad sword. The Phases stood aside as the soldiers marched out, and then followed them. Meteque ran to her man and didn’t understand why he was so quiet and taciturn. Gwenlan’s mind was in turmoil. Should he tell Meteque of the ordered task…or just take her in passion? He held her very close and kissed and caressed her shaking head. “You trust me.” It was Gwenlan’s question. “Yes.” His mouth on her lips was open and seeking. It had a flavor of urgency that Meteque didn’t understand. A hot tongue followed strong hands down her neck, sliding open the pin clasp securing her long gown so that as it fell to the floor. Gwenlan was kissing at her breasts and untying the leather thong she wore at her loins. “Are you sure we should do this here?” Meteque sought assurances. “It is right,” he murmured, touching the taut skin close to her pudenda. With determined protective strength he lifted her up so her legs could embrace around his thighs. The penetration was within her

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Awaken to the Sun and she pushed down to feel its robust perfection. Gwenlan’s hands cupped her curved rear cheeks and eased her up and down on his love shaft. She forgot the danger of the cell and gave in to their mutual satisfaction. The two interrogating Phases stood motionless in the next cell, clearing the solid connecting wall from their inner minds. All the passion, all the naked flesh, all that Gwenlan and Meteque could give each other was seen by these two councilors of the Moon Master. They could not indulge in this raw sensual union, but they could take its erotically conveyed essence and turn it into primitive force. This was their service to The Moon.

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Emy Naso

Fighting The Light

“T

he Skies,” The Moon Master shouted in terror. This was the first time in many rotations of the sand clock that it had turned from dark to dawn. The night militia concentrated all their efforts into bringing forth the cold, dead hand of frost. It was intended to delay the Sun’s warmth reminding the creatures and animals of Qui’sioe of the dazzling magnificence of the great fire globe. Thunderclouds crashed from one mountain face across the frightened valleys to an impenetrable rock wall opposite. Great fingers of lightning hurtled from angry clouds towards the eastern horizon and at the growing orange disc pushing relentlessly into its lost world. Cavalry multitudes of monstrous winged demons came out of every nightmare in the air and hissed their deadly water spouts at the Sun, trying to extinguish all the flaming hydrogen and boiling helium of the mighty life giver. All over the lands the people hid their ears, but not their eyes. Even the very oldest could not recall the rising of the Sun. For so long all time had been

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Awaken to the Sun measured in the turning of the sand clocks, as days and nights had no meaning. Children tucked into the cloaks of their parents and elder siblings, watching the wonder of the Sun, then shrinking back under cover as the army of the Moon fought back with every evil lurking in the imagination. Santos was only five. His mother held him tight and her familiar aroma gave him courage as they sheltered in the mouth of a cave at the foot of Mount Ulla. Even though the final battle for the equilibrium of the world was raging about him, Santos was more concerned about the little puppy nestling in his arms. It had been a birthday present from his father four days ago, and the little boy hadn’t yet given his dog a name. His mother flinched further back into the cave as a troop of birds without skin, appearing like flying skeletons, swooped past and flew directly into the Sun on a suicidal attack against the morning breaker. The stench from the fireball made the mother hold her nose and cover Santos further in her cloak. “You shall not take my realm,” the Moon howled and the sound of the voice turned to steam in a jet across a sky brightening from gray to pale pink. The cohort fumed in an evil gaggle and conjured up the colors of the spectrum. Red for the blood of the many people they had slaughtered. Orange for the fruit their darkness had withered. Yellow to blind the Sun with its own hue. Green for the envy they felt at the brightness of the light. Blue to confuse the sky. Indigo as the color of their Master’s winter gown. And Violet

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Emy Naso of the thunder, sent to destroy the peace of the world. All these colors were thrown into the firmament, and the cohort hoped they would then be lost forever, so only the no-color of their dark world would prevail. The birds let the heat warm their feathers and they flew high into the air, gracing it with their songs. Animals crept from burrows and from under logs to absorb the light and activate their sleeping eyes. The people of Qui’sioe paid homage and their minds were with the Sun. Slinking back into a resentful slumber, the Moon and its array of dead dreams reluctantly conceded the field of day. The joy giver had returned. Santos came out of the cave and said to his dog, “I’m going to call you Sunshine.”

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Awaken to the Sun

Let There Be Light and Celebration

R

eaching the top of Mount Ulla wasn’t that difficult, even for Cadwaltu, who at ninety-three was the elder statesman on the Council of Acana. It had been a special place for so long in the mother world of the Qui’sioe that steps had been cut into the rock to assist the journey to the summit. Up on the oval plateau, a huge dish-shaped bowl formed a natural amphitheatre. It was told in the oral tradition of the tale-spinners that once in the time when the land was new, the Sun had come too near to Ulla and ripped the peak away in an upward funnel of molten laver. The depression was left at the top and ever since the Sun had taken care to fly high over the mountain. That story would be re-told many times today in celebration of the return of the good Sun. Cadwaltu looked up across the range of mountains shelving down from Ulla and counted himself as blessed that he had lived long enough to see this sight of the Sun slanting its rays at the mountainous region and casting long shadows. In the endless time of the

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Emy Naso Moon’s dominance the whole would had been one big shadow. His thin white hair blew about in the clear air as he took his seat at the disc table of the Council of Acana. Just below the summit the people gathered in a mass of brightly colored clothes and banners. With the return of the Sun they could wear their finery, be happy and see the world as it really was. The Council had decided on two symbolic acts to commemorate the Sun coming back to them. In the valley below the blind horses had been rounded-up from the marshlands, where many had been ridden hard by the soldiers of the Moon Master. The horses had labored for generations in the service of the dark forces and over time had lost the ability of sight, as the marshlands were even more dark and misty than the rest of the world. Cadwaltu gave a signal and a young girl pulled the grass covering away from the message mirror, which had been dormant all the time of the Moon Rule. The Sun sparkled and reflected its rays of joy off the mirror and on every peak in the mountain range, similar mirrors, slightly smaller than that on Ulla, passed the message of light throughout the lands. In the valley, the horses were led into the lush pastures and the Council had decreed that they would be tended and looked after in the rich feeding grounds. Their lives had been hard and now in celebration of the Sun’s return the Qui’sioe wanted to honor these steeds and mares. Many thousands of miles away in the dry plains of the Dunes, a journey came to an end. Gwenlan of the

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Awaken to the Sun Wands had arrive at the ancestral lands of his bride to be, Meteque, whose father had been an elder in the district. When Meteque had been a child, her parents moved to the area occupied by the people of the Wands and that is where the lovers had met. In recognition of her lineage to the Dunes, Meteque had elected to be married in the mysterious stone circle, which was built so long ago that even the talespinners had no story to weave around its construction. The people of the Dunes called it Madog. Gwenlan and two companions walked the last mile to the sacred place. So many people had taken this route that the sand had been eroded to a base hard bedrock, which jutted up in hummocks of gray, mottled steps. The outer ring of Madog was even older, and the stones had been worn down to mere stumps. Farther on, the massive stones were even more intimidating, and Gwenlan wondered how such an ancient people, whose memory was out of mind, could have built such a edifice. And where did they get the huge stones from in a landscape where sand stretched for as far as you could ride? Meteque and her chosen two companions waited in the inner circle. Gwenlan and his escorts wore blue cloaks wrapped completely about them, the color was to show that the Wand tribe had respect for the sky of the day. Meteque and the two women with her wore similar cloaks in dazzling yellow. The tales said this was both for the Sun and the sand, and that before the peoples arrived in this land the earth was brown but

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Emy Naso it loved the sun so much, it changed its color to be as one with its adorned bright disc in the sky. On the perimeter of the stones of Madog, a line of men, dressed in scarlet tunics and white fur caps, lifted the ritual stag horns to their lips and blasted a wailing note to the forest. It was the age-old sign to the animals of the world that the humans of Qui’sioe were in harmony with them. As the low-pitched call rumbled across the immense expanse of Dunes, from the wild salt lakes to the shrubby birch trees of the cold north, a group of young women from the village where Meteque was born scattered precious seeds of the Serito fruit on to the hearth at the house where the lovers would return and live. Gwenlan’s two companions took his cloak from his shoulders and the naked man stepped forward ten paces. The women next to Meteque slipped her cloak off and she also moved ten paces towards her lover, her nudity radiated in the glowing sun. The lovers were within an arms-length of each other. The Rites of The Earth had begun, and Gwenlan’s erect and solid penis brought no shame to his smile as he looked upon the gazelle-like slender beauty of Meteque. She held her arms out wide and slightly raised in the accepted gesture of openness to her lover’s seeking of her body. One more pace and they touched fingertips. Meteque held Gwenlan’s hand and to show her willingness, led him to the Stone of Nature, a square block of weathered white marble, which must have been brought by the ancients from some far off land.

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Awaken to the Sun The lady of the Dunes land lay back on the stone so her buttocks just rested on the edge and her upper body felt the cold smoothness of its surface. Her feet arched and her toes excitedly rubbed the earth. Meteque of the delicate body parted her legs as Gwenlan stepped forward. He knelt before his lover, soon to be his lifelong partner in ritual, and kissed her feet, her calves, her thighs. His head buried itself into her light bushy zone and she felt his tongue explore her vagina. She was already moist and weeping with expectation. With his breathing quickening, the powerful man reluctantly left her pudenda for a moment, found his way over her pulsating stomach and imperceptibly feasted on her swollen nipples. When his mouth reached hers, Gwenlan gently eased his body down on Meteque and that delicious moment of his manhood touching her open gate was reached. The time was held, then he pressed into her pliable folds and sunk deep into her vagina. Her arms enfolded his body as they went on kissing tenderly. His rhythm stroked her cavern in waves of hot sensations, the electricity radiating from her inner erogenous zone to every part of her body. She felt his needs and recognized his efforts to find hers. The anguish of love grew and consumed them. Their four companions stood in a circle around the lovers and occasionally sprinkled the purified waters of the spring over their anointing bodies. Twenty yards to the south of the Stone of Nature was a mysterious star shaped block, with a round hole expertly chiseled out of the middle. No one had

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Emy Naso ever speculated about its origins or purpose, so incongruous was it in the site at Madog. Gwenlan whispered something into Meteque’s ear and she nodded her head as beads of perspiration ran all over their bodies. With cries of joy and fulfillment, the lovers satisfied each other and as they groaned in contentment, the Sun hit the center of the enigmatic hole and its warmth, its light and its clarity fell upon the partners of love.

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Awaken to the Sun

Waiting For The Return

T

he day was joyous throughout the lands of Qui’sioe. After Cadwaltu had performed the Rites to the Sun a festival atmosphere spread and families brought food and wine to the slopes of Mount Ulla. Children played their favorite games, worried, charmed, amused and annoyed their parents. Young men talked in groups about the girls, laughing loudly at the bawdy jokes. The young women were more circumspect in their observation of the boys, but they still found plenty to giggle about. Stalls selling sweet drinks and parasols to protect against the heat of the day sprang up everywhere as the crowd grew and the noise and chatter of humanity rose ever higher into the sky. The Chiefs of Raytial, who days before had visited the site in the dark moments, now joined the Council of Acana as their special guests and stories were told and then retold about the problems of youth and how everything had changed. Indeed it had changed. No one alive could remember the coming of the Sun. This day was to be recorded in the books of events, every small moments

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Emy Naso staying in the minds of the people. Raewalf of Gwalgon walked towards the tattered mud hut with its woven reed roof. It had been abandoned as a goat herder’s retreat many years ago, but was now occupied by Ruela of Pentacles. When the rule of the night suddenly collapsed, many of the followers of the Moon Master had been driven out or sought a safe place in case the people took revenge on them. The one-time soldier was a proud lady and didn’t flee with the mass of the army, but quietly went to this dwelling to think. “Ruela,” Raewalf called. The handsome lady came to the door, which was covered with a bare white linen sheet. She pulled it back and unflinchingly faced the man. The elaborately made-up face he previously remembered was now washed and plain. But she was still a striking woman with long legs and high set breasts, with her nipples prominently pointing out even under her simple woolen dress. All she wore from her soldiery were the big black boots. She had let her hair go undressed, and its chestnut tints caught the rays of the Sun. “What do you want?” she challenged Raewalf. “You,” he calmly replied. “If you’ve come to seek retribution, I can understand. But take care, Raewalf, you may be a powerful man and your strength might prevail if you want to rape me, but I have a soldier’s training and will fight meanly.” “I will do nothing to you that is not in your wishes,” the man said and took a step forward.

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Awaken to the Sun “Do you not hate me for what I subjected you to?” she asked, still wary of his intensions. “I cannot deny you were in the wrong. However, there was lust and sexual satisfaction in my heart and loins as well. No, Ruela, I do not come to seek a settling of scores. Now the Sun has returned, there must be an end to dominance.” Ruela stepped back to let him in go in the hut. “Not in this place,” Raewalf said and took her hand. “There is to be no more hiding in the dark to commit that which we are ashamed of. I love you, Ruela, and that passion must now see the light.” *** “Shall I return to the world below the horizon?" Rhiandon asked as she rested her head against Helios. “If I want to find rest, perhaps you should,” he smiled. She didn’t understand his humor and looked baffled and worried. He rolled her onto her side and held her close. “It was a joke, my darling Rhiandon.” She still looked puzzled. “Since you arrived in my world and brought the Sun, twelve hours have passed and we have made love three times. At this rate I’ll be exhausted in a week.” Rhiandon considered, saw the sensual nature of the remark and fell into a convulsion of giggling. “Don’t you like making love to me?” she teased. “Oh, yes,” he groaned and pressed his hard cock into her groin.

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Emy Naso “Not again!” she grinned in a wickedly suggestive way. Rhiandon was about to lie on her back. Helios took hold of her head and kissed her wide, sensuous mouth. “There are other ways,” he smirked. She looked and the expression said, show me. “Kneel in front of me,” Helios said with mounting excitement. “Like this?” she asked, glancing back over her shoulder. “Exactly like that,” he panted and took her rear cheeks in his hands, rubbed his thumbs against the inside of her thighs and receptively pushed the opening to her vagina in a stimulating motion. As his cock penetrated her, Rhiandon gave a long, pleasurable, “Ooooh.” As he fucked her, she uttered many other noises of delight and surprise. When they’d fallen, gratified, to the earth, she cuddled next to him and whispered. “Teach me lots more, won’t you?” *** It was a long, balmy day and the Sun blessed everyone in the world. Lovers discovered the hot passion of the golden orb. Children frolicked and slept after all the fun and food. Mothers, fathers, the old and young, and all the peoples of Qui’sioe stayed out in the open and didn’t want the day to end. Slowly the Sun moved across the sky, east to south and then into the quadrant of the west. Its yellow brilliance was turning shades of orange and it dipped

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Awaken to the Sun towards the horizon. This was the time that nobody wanted to come. The peoples stopped playing, eating, lovemaking, watching over babies, tending to the old and sick, and living in a carefree way. The Sun had returned after time out of mind. Now the circle was about to begin. Would the night return and impose its dominance on the world for another eternity? The disc had a crescent cut into its sphere as it sank into the cloud and dust at the world’s end. There was a silence in the hearts and mouths of the people. Even the birds and animals fell into a hush. Another section of the Sun disappeared and it was now a semi-circle of iridescent glowing red embers. It slipped to the horizon and as the world held a collective breath, surrendered to the lower world. Twilight flickered in the minds possessed by fear. Then darkness smothered the lands as the blanket of the night covered the lives of the people. Addino the priest stayed all night on his knees, praying that his life, so near to its end, would last long enough to see this miracle. Still they sat in huddled groups, frightened to say anything or leave the open air and go into the gloomy houses. Any ghostly noise sent shivers through their veins and they peered apprehensively at every shadow, dreading the hegemony of the Moon. What they wanted was the maintenance of the wheel of life. Not perpetual darkness, but the Sun of day and then the great orb to go to its rest as they slept from their labors, and then the certainty of the awakening and the coming of the Sun.

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Emy Naso

*** Santos woke with his father on one side and his warm mother the other. The little boy was surprised they were not in their beds. The family was sitting, staring towards the east. The cold percolated into bones and dead apprehension oozed into minds. The lad heard the sniffing, whining of his dog Sunshine and called out to him. His mother looked down, realizing the boy was awake. “Santos, keep still and go back to sleep,” she said in a kindly voice. “What are you looking for?” Santos yawned the question. His mother took him in her arms and held him close to her face. The first rays of the Sun appeared above the eastern horizon, illuminating the soft skin of the little boy. His mother wiped away a tear and kissed the child. “The Sun shines on you, Santos. And will do so every day of your lucky life.”

End

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About The Author

B

orn in Wales, Emy Naso moved to London, then to adopted and much loved coastal region of East Anglia. Married young, Emy states this was the only way to still be active when the kids eventually called a truce and left home. Naso's motto is "Life is for today, writing is forever", but cannot remember whether the paradigm was adopted after a deep study of philosophy or was a slogan read on the back of a breakfast cereal pack! www.emynaso.com