Embrace of the Goddess Ch. 06

"Purgo," she commanded, and the water from the towels and some shards of glass on the floor all floated up harmlessly and disappeared.

"You could have done that the whole time?" asked Orilana.

But Iriel was gasping, looking at her hands. It wasn't enough. Maloth didn't want her to waste the magic on cleaning up. Do it, hissed Maloth. Take her.

"Are you alright?" Orilana put a hand on Iriel's elbow again. Relief flooded through her. The tension faded, and she looked up at Orilana and smiled softly.

"I just like to do things the hard way sometime."

"Then why do it at the end?"

Iriel shrugged. "I don't want sliced feet."

They both laughed. Orilana rose to her feet and pulled Iriel up to hers. They stood with smiles on their lips, but as Iriel caught sight of the cracks in Orilana's, her smile wilted. "Sorry about before," she muttered.

Orilana shrugged. "I'm getting used to it." Iriel thought for a moment it was a slight, but Orilana's eyes widened as she realized the implication. "From everyone. Not you. Or not, just you. Or whatever."

"Sorry," sighed Iriel.

"It's fine. I'm just tired."

"There's a spell for that."

Orilana smirked. "Guess I like it the hard way too."

Fuck her the hard way.

Iriel shook her head. "Want something to drink?"

Orilana shook her head. "On duty. Though, may I sit, High Priestess?"

"Absolutely."

Orilana's shoulders sagged with relief, and the elven woman collapsed into a chair. Iriel sat next to her and put a hand on her friend's knee. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"It's ..." Orilana sighed deeply. "It's everything."

Iriel smirked. "Narrow it down for me."

"The nymphs ..."

"This again? I thought -"

Orilana held up her hands defensively. "I don't want to argue."

"Then what?"

"It's just ..." Orilana sighed. "I don't know how to say this."

"Just say it."

"No, I need to know if I'm talking to Iriel or the High Priestess."

"What?"

"Sometimes you're my best friend, Iriel. We joke and roll our eyes and working with you and for you is fun. But sometimes you're the High Priestess of Azora. You're powerful and charismatic and ... and ..."

"Say it."

"Controlling."

"I am not -"

Orilana tilted her head and raised her eyebrow.

"Okay, fine," sighed Iriel. "But it's the job."

"That's fine, and I get it. Trust me. We've been doing this for a decade. I've seen all parts of you."

Not all.

No. Not all.

Orilana smiled. "But I need to know if I'm talking to the office or the person right now."

"Both."

Orilana shook her head. "If it's both, it's the office. That supersedes everything else."

"Can you blame me?"

"No." Orilana shook her head and held out her hands again, as though they could apologize for her. "I admire you for it. Goddess knows I struggle to put my job above my desires."

"You do?"

"Of course, but —" Orilana looked at the door of the office and sighed. "There isn't time for this."

"For our desires? Of course there is." Iriel's heart was fluttering. She had always thought the cracks in Orilana's professionalisms were regrettable mistakes. But maybe ... maybe she wasn't so different from Iriel.

She will join us.

Yes. Maybe she will.

Orilana shook her head. "Iriel or High Priestess?"

"Iriel." The words came out before she could think them or strategize. She imagined they came out before Maloth could hear or stop them. There was a deeper desire than her goddess could touch: to be Iriel with Orilana. It moved her more than any other force in creation.

"Then I think if the nymph freeing is Azora's idea, then it's a mistake."

All of Azora's decrees are mistakes.

"Why?"

Orilana's fidgeted in her seat. She clasped her hands together and played with her fingers. Suddenly Iriel felt she was looking at adolescent Orilana caught in the office of the High Priestess.

Iriel leaned forward and put a hand on Orilana's knee. "I'm Iriel. I promise. This is a safe space."

Orilana took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She nodded to herself and put one of her hands onto Iriel's. The world spun. Iriel's vision blurred, and everything gave off new colors. More colors than Iriel had names for. Her stomach turned, and she would give anything - anything - to make sure Orilana kept her hand there.

Fuck her.

But Iriel held strong. With Orilana's hand in her own, she felt she could hold for eternity.

"The cases of debauchery have over tripled," said Orilana. "Now the nymphs are participating in it, and there are reports of the nymphs encouraging the acolytes into it. Some even ... some even force the acolytes against their wills."

"Oh my," said Iriel. She hoped her breathless reply came across as shock and not arousal, but to hear these words from Orilana's lips was too much.

"A dryad had even pressed itself against me." Orilana gulped. "Their pollen ... it ... has some time of mind altering properties. I was almost taken in, but I cut the foul creature down."

"Oh no." Did Iriel cry out for the creature? The missed opportunity? The story cut short? "Are you alright?"

Orilana nodded. "When I came in and saw you with ... saw you with those creatures. I feared that maybe they were also corrupted and that ... that they had ... or that they would ..."

Iriel shook her head and squeezed Orilana's hand. "No. No they didn't do anything to me."

Orilana sighed with relief. "Good."

Iriel blushed. "You were worried about me?"

Orilana blushed in turn. She looked away, but she didn't pull her hand from Iriel's. "It's my job to worry about you."

Iriel smirked. She wanted to kiss her. She would bend hell and earth to lean in and seal the cracks in Orilana's lips. Whatever deal she made with Maloth, whatever she had sold, she'd sell ten times that amount for a kiss and nothing else.

Do it. Kiss her.

"Um ... what did ..." Iriel cleared her throat. "What did it make you feel?"

Orilana tried to pull her hand away, but Iriel held tight. "I don't want to -"

"I'm Iriel right now, but I could be High Priestess if you want to make a confession."

"I don't -"

"Or you can confess to me," whispered Iriel. "Just as me."

Orilana looked back and held Iriel's gaze. "As Iriel?"

She nodded. "As friends. I know what it's like to have the pressure of the office, to have to be perfect, to have to be morally incorruptible. You are appointed by Azora, not by the opinions of others. She judges you, and she loves you."

"What if she ..." Orilana bit her lip and looked away. "What if she doesn't like what she sees?"

"Long before you could earn her love, she gave it freely. She preferred death over revoking that love."

Orilana smirked, but her eyes were watering. "Sounds like the High Priestess is back."

Iriel smirked. A tear rolled down Orilana's cheek. Iriel wiped it away with the back of her hand. The hand that looked smoothed but was crooked and sharped underneath all the magic. "Do you want to make a confession?" she asked.

Orilana shook her head. More tears rolled. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm just ... I'm so ashamed and -"

Iriel kissed her then. She had to. No force in creation could have stopped her. Not the depths of Maloth's debauchery nor the heights of Azora's temperance. In a flash she knew that she and Orilana were more alike than she had ever realized. They were both trapped by their office, but they were also trapped by their desires. Orilana didn't hate what the dryad did to her. She liked it. She liked it, and she was scared, so she went to one religious figure she could trust. She went to church to wash away the shame of her desires, the shame of her pleasure.

No words could convince her. There was no logic. Just like Iriel and Prim and Fella, it had to be shown. You could argue forever about the right thing to do, about sin and virtue, but there was truth only in living, only in moving forward. Orilana needed to be kissed to know that kissing was good. She needed Iriel to run her hands over the side of her face to know she wanted Iriel's hands on her face. She needed to reach her hand into the fire to know how cold she was.

Iriel moaned, and Orilana pulled away. But Iriel didn't let go. She stood over Orilana with her captain's face in her hands and gently placed her head on Orilana's forehead. "We're the same, you and I," she said.

"I just ... what?"

"I love you," said Iriel.

"I ... don't know what to —"

"Do you love me too?"

Orilana bit her lip and tried to turn her head away, but Iriel didn't let her. She held her tight in that space, in that moment.

"Just say it," said Iriel. "No one judges us for loving."

"But Azora —"

"Is a goddess of love. Love me, and we honor her." Orilana's eyes darted around the room. "Love me," said Iriel, softer this time.

Orilana locked her eyes on Iriel's and nodded. "I love you. I've always loved you." She gasped. "Oh goddess, it feels good to say. I've loved you, Iriel. I've loved you. I've loved you. I've loved —"

Iriel kissed her again, and Orilana pressed back. Their tired bodies woke up as they stoked the flames of their passion. Iriel tried to crawl into Orilana's lap, but the chair was too small. Orilana laughed through the kisses and stood up. Iriel wrapped her legs around Orilana's body and her hands around Orilana's neck. Both women were laughing and kissing, as Orilana carried Iriel through her office and pinned her up against the wall. Iriel moaned as Orilana pressed into her. When they tired of the other's lips, they kissed cheeks and necks, foreheads and eyes, ears and noses, they found more and more flesh to kiss, to please, to taste. For ten years they had danced around this, they had avoided this, and now was the chance to make up for lost time. Neither of them would ever have to be alone ever —

"Ow." Orilana hissed and reached a hand behind her neck. She pulled it away, and her eyes widened as she saw blood. She looked back at Iriel in confusion, and both women looked at Iriel's fingers.

No. Not her fingers. Her claws.

Orilana let go of Iriel and stepped backwards. She stumbled over a chair, but her hand went to her sword hilt. Iriel looked down at her dark purple skin and black clawed hands. She reached up and felt her horns protruding from her forehead, and Orilana's eyes trailed the movement. She gasped when she saw the horns and unsheathed her sword.

"Wait," said Iriel. "I can explain."

"You too?"

"No. It's not like that. It's -"

"Like the dryads." Her eyes widened as realization struck her a second time. "The dryads in your bed."

"No. It's not like -"

Take her, hissed Maloth.

"You freed them," whispered Orilana.

"No, well yes, but it's not like -"

Fuck her.

"No!" roared Iriel.

Orilana stepped back again. She held her sword in both hands, and a pale silver light swirled around her as she summoned her magic about her.

Do it. She can't escape.

Against her will, smoke billowed out of Iriel, filling the chamber with the darkness of Maloth.

"No!" shrieked Iriel. "Stop. Not like this."

She must be mine.

"Back!" roared Orilana. She sent a wave of golden light at Iriel and the smoke hissed and curled away.

"Orilana, this isn't me. This isn't -"

"No talking," said Orilana. "Not another word, demon."

Seize her.

Iriel needed to stop this madness. She needed to keep Orilana and Maloth apart, but she didn't have the power. She couldn't -

Her eyes darted to the Staff of Eclipse in the corner of her office.

Orilana followed Iriel's eyes. "The staff?" She moved backwards, keeping her eyes on the smoke and her sword pointed at her High Priestess. "That serves Azora, not your foul wishes."

"Please," said Iriel. "I need it. I can set things right with it."

"It belongs to the light."

"It belongs to me!" With a roar, Iriel sent forth the smoke and her magic, but Orilana was ready. A translucent bubble of silver light wrapped around her, and wherever smoke or magic touched, there was a hissing sound as it evaporated harmlessly. Orilana worked quickly, stepping backwards until she found the staff and then grabbing it with one hand.

Kill her!

Iriel and Maloth snarled in unison and charged, but Orilana closed her eyes, whispered a prayer, and slammed the staff against the floor. The office was drowned in white light, searing Iriel's eyes and skin. She summoned her magic to protect herself, but Maloth knew no spells like that. She yelled as her body smoked and burned, and eventually passed out from the pain.

When she awoke, Orilana was gone. Iriel limped in front of a mirror to see the extent of the damage she'd taken from the staff. She was healed, but her form had been corrupted further. She had the hooves and tail she had lusted after before. Her skin was a darker purple, and her hair was black and luxurious. She was almost a perfect replica of the promise in Maloth's mirror.

But she was alone.