Serpents
Priests are allowed to make love. They may be dedicated to their priestly profession, but they are allowed to make love. Especially if they were as handsome as him. He wore golden curls on his head and had a bronzed body that was reminiscent of the Sun God. Lust inundated the very foundations of her mind when she glimpsed him for the first time. And the second time. And the third. And every time hence.
So they made love everywhere, whenever he was free from his priestly duties. He performed his sacred rites when the time arose, and then exited the temple and came to her. His cock was always hard and always seeking the dripping tunnel between her thighs. They always reached their climax together, while playing with each other's bodies in fantastic new ways each day.
One day, however, the deluge of lust stormed those last foundations of mental reasoning, and there was both sex and trouble at hand. She ran into his temple, when he was preparing for his ritual, and entreated him to take her then and there. He wouldn’t hear of it at first, but she begged him and told him how she would die if she didn’t enjoy union with him just then.
Then as he stormed her sanctum sanctorum with his penis, a pure form that radiated energy and wisdom stormed the sanctum sanctorum of the temple where they were making love. The being of pure energy who was the Goddess expected her priest to be worshiping her, but he was making love to a woman inside the holiest of holies.
It was then that the terrible words came upon the lips of the Goddess. They heard a thunderclap when she spoke, and she pointed at her priest and converted him into a creature that could be compared to Leviathans from the deepest recesses of the netherworld. She pointed at her and converted her into a being whose serpentine form would inspire terror for all eternity.
Then, as quick as a beam of light, the Goddess vanished, and their entreaties for forgiveness rang through empty air in harsh tongues that sounded more like tempestuous roars than their erstwhile human voices.
Hypatia
Hypatia saw something hidden within her brother’s robes that he had secreted away in his quarters. This was her house after all, and as his elder sister, it was her duty to keep him out of trouble. So she checked his quarters.
It was parchment. It was ancient parchment written in a tongue that she did not understand. It wasn’t alone, however. He had nearly a hundred such parchments with different designs and images on them. She didn’t know what to make of it.
There were images of fire-breathing serpents and red-skinned beings with horns and tridents. What caught her attention, however, was a striking image of a being that was a woman until her waist, and a serpent below.
Farmer’s girl
The sheer splendor of the palace hall blew all sensations of grime and hunger away from the farmer and his daughter’s minds. The dazzling field of orichalcum, rubies, sapphires, emeralds, gold, silver and bronze that assaulted their eyes was surely a creation of the Gods. Their awe of their Sultan and Sultana increased at the sight, and they wondered what sort of reward they could expect.
She was called Aya, and he was called Nuska, and they were named for ancient Gods. For the young Aya, it meant that the fields she traipsed in would no longer be green; they would be emerald colored. The bright red hibiscus she adorned her hair with on occasion would no longer be red; it would be ruby red. The sky would no longer be blue; it would be the color of an aquamarine.
For Nuska is meant that he may not have to farm once his daughter reported her findings. It was going to be something that would gain them the favor of the royal family for this lifetime. It meant an end to backbreaking labors under the merciless Arabian sun.
They had been barred entry until the girl said that they had deciphered a message from the snakes and she would tell the Sultana alone. Nuska was doubly proud of his daughter for holding her ground against the giant guards who tried to get her to spill her news to them. She simply repeated ten times, in succession, that her words were meant for the Sultana’s ears alone. The guards were forced to be content with her answer and gave in to the determination of a child. Her determination had earned them entry into the grand hall, where all their cares were momentarily forgotten.
They waited in the hall for a good half hour before the Sultana found time for them and entered the royal hall. They had heard so much about her and about how she had magic powers and was more powerful than a dozen wizards combined. Seeing her mien confirmed this to them. The air of dominance in her presence was remarkable.
She asked her attendants to bring them some Sherbet, which was something they hadn’t expected from a queen, no less a Sultana. It tasted far sweeter than water they were used to and seemed to nourish their tongues, throats and indeed every fiber within them as they consumed it.
“You are from the east,” she said.
“Yes, your highness,” Nuska replied.
“And you are a farmer from the east,” she said.
“Yes, your highness,” Nuska said, nodding happily, as the Sherbet brought his sallow and bristly cheeks to life.
“I am very fond of farmers, and of eastern farmers in particular,” the Sultana said, giving Aya a warm smile that just seemed to melt inside her heart. Aya was in love with her queen; she is so much more than mother, she said to herself. If only she was my mother.
Eastern farmers harvested the best bounties in their kingdom and indeed provided grain for all the kingdom to sup on. So the Sultana’s statement was transparent to Nuska, and even to bright little Aya.
“What is your name, darling?” the Sultana asked her.
“Aya, your highness,” she said and bowed again before her monarch.
“You’ve bowed ten times already, girl,” the Sultana said, laughing. “Now tell me what is this secret you can tell only me.”
Younos
Little Younos was practicing magic of the darkest kind. This was the only conclusion that Hypatia could draw from the sea of ancient scrolls that greeted her in his room. She understood now why he was short of money. She knew that procuring such scrolls was an expensive endeavor, and was indulged in by only those quirky and mysterious individuals who were rich and who had a stomach for the supernatural.
If Younos had been able to gather these many scrolls, it meant he was doing perfectly okay financially. He had earned enough money through whatever odd jobs he deigned to perform to get him all these. And he had spent every last pie of it on these scrolls of magic. Now, living under her roof, he had to answer her.
It was late at night, and Younos wasn’t back yet. She wondered if he was out collecting scrolls. She heard a gentle patter of rain outside. Rain was rare, so she stepped out under the awning outside her front door to see it fall. She saw a form slinking through the shadows coming at her. She worried for a moment that she was vulnerable and that it was someone who wished her harm. Then she heaved a sigh of relief, seeing her brother emerging from the shadows, dripping wet.
“Where have you been, Adolphos?” she said, trying to make him feel welcome, tired as he must be from his labors.
She led him indoors. He looked tired and happy, and very wet.
“Sister,” he said, “I have found favor with the Sultana, and now with her daughter.”
Younos was beaming, and genuinely above board and honest in his words this once. She smiled at him, handing him a towel to dry himself.
“Her daughter? Which daughter, and what sort of favor?” she said.
Younos told her about how he had chanced upon princess Mediha being strangled by an assassin and had saved her life.
“Where was this?” she asked.
“In the palace,” he said, meeting her gaze.
She smiled. He appeared to be telling her the truth at least this time.
“Go on,” she said.
“The assassin was female as well,” he said, “and had a hold on her throat, and had immersed her in water.”
“Water?” she said.
“A pool in the palace,” he said, keeping an entirely straight face, as he started rubbing the towel on his head vigorously.
“What was the princess doing in a pool?” she said.
“How should I know?” he said, “It was lucky I was within hearing distance and heard their struggle.”
Hypatia understood from her brother’s eyes exactly what had happened. He had been hiding and trying to get an eyeful of the princess while she was bathing, which had opportunely for him, been precisely when an attack on her life had happened. She asked him to go on, telling herself that he was mostly a good boy, even if he went around sneaking looks at naked girls.
“The assassin had a hold of her and was holding her under the water as they floated with the assassin on top,” he said, “and I leaped in the water on the assassin, so that my feet struck her back, and had to let go of the princess. It was frightening, Adelphe!”