Woman of the Forest Ch. 02

Woman of the Forest

Forest Goddess: Devana

Devana was true to her word--she demanded much of Pawel, but no more than he could handle.

Their coupling and erotic adventures were, indeed, the sustenance SHE needed, but Pawel was left drained. In the steppe, where he grew up, the women would summon the men when it suited them. True. In the steppe, conditions were so hard that the summoning was rare, and no man lived with a woman. Pawel was with Devana, day and night, except when hunting, gathering food, or taking care of private necessaries.

While he was about his private business, Pawel still felt that Devana was watching. Most peculiar. Pawel had never known a woman interested in spying on men doing the necessities of daily life. But, he never caught her at it. She was the forest goddess and though they were not in a forest, the groves they used for their private business were cover enough for her invisibility.

Devana 'spoke' to Pawel in such a way, that he 'heard' her words in his head. She spoke of the 'old days' when more people believed in the gods of the land. Now, they had largely been seduced by the 'sky gods', as she dismissively called the prevailing beliefs.

Her sustenance had come from the people. As Pawel knew she needed the love of men, all types of lustful behavior made her stronger. She needed women also. The women seeking a child would come to her to make them pleasing to their husband, to make their husbands lie with them so that they would conceive and not spill their seed on the ground wastefully. These were poor people, and even in times of abundance, often the husband would seek to limit the number of mouths the family needed to feed. But many women had a need for the love of a child, the children were frail, and many women saw the need for enough to ensure that some would survive.

It was deceitful and not proper for a good marriage. Devana was a ruthless goddess and did not care for such niceties, the woman would repay Devana when she became pregnant. When she made water, the pregnant woman had to save this for Devana...sometimes she would drink it to get the essence of new life, sometimes she would bathe in it, to rejuvenate her ancient skin.

Devana was there in the midst of the forest to school the young men and women in their roles in keeping their race alive. Under a spell, she would bring lovers to her place in the middle of the forest, and they would lie together...they thought in privacy, but Devana would enter their minds and school them in the ways of love.

Once the lovers were asleep, she would again take possession of their bodies for her own pleasures, for in each moment of rapture, she was refreshed and renewed. From the young men, she got fresh seed; from the young women, a type of love that she also needed, softer and yet one that gave her deeper pleasure and even more rejuvenation.

This, all of this, Pawel learned from Devana, as if in a dream. In a dream also, he asked, "How can one so mighty, have fallen so far as you had when I found you?"

"Pride, I found this forest of all the forests of this part of the world, as something special...I was so strong, so happy...here, even between two wretched towns...towns of the old and dying...these, I...I alone! Could renew. The old women would be young again and the old men would again have vigor and lie with their wives. These places would be reborn. "

"For this miracle, I would be renowned on Earth among mortals, and among the gods.

"So, I found a home in the middle of this forest...but there were gods, gods who were spiteful, gods who were jealous, gods who wanted power over me, wanted my power.

"They trapped me in the woods with a band of ghost wolves; wolves the mortals heard, but never saw; wolves who never fed, never died, never slept; wolves tied by magic to the forest.

"Cut off from humanity, I starved...I fed off myself, but I was dying, nearly dead...but Pawel, may his name be praised forever, Pawel lit the flames that freed me, the ghost wolves could not flee, they were tied to the forest to the very earth itself. They did not burn, but smothered in the scent of the incense, you burned."

At this, Pawel was mystified--he had provided no incense. To this day, the smoke magic which killed the wolves, killed Devana's jailers, is unknown. The legend will claim it is this herb or that, but really, no one knows.

"Now, I am free; thanks to you, I am strong, but Pawel you are an old man, yes a wonderful kind and giving man, but only one man. I have grown greedy again, in my new life, in my renewed strength...all thanks to you.

"Pawel, if I stay with you, I will devour you, it does no good to devour one you love. I am the goddess, Devana, once more, and I must roam. I need men, I need women and I need them in numbers, as they need me in this place, to cure them, to give them pleasure in living and loving."

Devana began to walk away from Pawel. Now taller than Pawel by a head; whereas, when he found her, she was as a child, but not a child, an emaciated shell of her former glory.

Walking tall, proud, her n now-golden hair lustrous in the sunshine, blown by a gentle breeze. Her limbs were muscular and thick, her breasts large and firm, like a healthy, mature matron. Her belly was strong, but round as the belly of a strong person who loved life, maybe a bit too fondly.

Her sex, still well-bushed, but as glowing and lustrous as a tangle of golden threads.

Pawel saw her striding away...her taut, generous buttocks flexing, as she began to trot...she was running toward the mist that surrounded the villages and the forest.

Pawel hurriedly mounted Hatchet...without saddle or bridle, this was dangerous for an old man...but he had ridden on the steppe in his youth with no saddle or bridle, nor reins.

Devana was not at such a speed yet, that Hatchet could not close with her...but as they approached the naked running goddess...her speed became a blur. Nevertheless, they followed the blur...she moved at a speed that left a wake in the air.

Pawel and Hatchet followed that path to the circling mist. Devana had entered the mist, but had not gone through it...She followed the circuit around the villages and the now-dead forest...seven courses of the circuit she ran...then, as she completed the seventh, the mist released her and the goddess flew without aid of wing or angels, although Hatchet whinnied as if frightened by demons.

Thus, Devana disappeared from Pawel's life. She had been rumored to be on the sacred mountain to the south, and it is said that the local peasants have built her a castle, and serve a mighty witch.

That is but a tale within a tale,

I tell you this as the scribe who has heard it, and written down what Pawel of the steppes has told me.

(I thank my patient readers and my faithful editor, kenjisato, without whose help this tale would be less literate. All quarrels with the story take up with the author.)

_______________