We sat at the table in front of her book. She looked at it, then at me. “I didn’t have any idea what I was getting into,” she said.
“I didn’t either,” I said smiling. “I’ve had my share of surprises. When I first read of the Great Spells I didn’t believe it myself. I also felt it was wrong. But my Master reminded me, we do this at the behest of the Gods. You felt him tonight”
She shuddered. “Was that really a God?”
I nodded. “You heard him accept the offering. We cannot judge the rightness of our actions by today’s decadent standards. We follow the Old Path when the Gods were present to help man. We have to accept their rules to receive their help. Unlike them,” I said pointing out the window, “We have access to the help of the Gods. These Gods exist and they will come when we follow their Rites. How many religions can say that? All they do is pray and pray and pray. We can actually call the Gods for help. That is worth learning the way, the correct way of the Gods.”
She shuddered again. “It seemed so real.”
“Cheryl, my love. It is real.”
I held out my hand. Her book flew to my hand. I held it and the pages opened at a passage. “Read. You too can know the Gods.”
“I need to think,” she said.
“No. You need to know, not think. Knowing is certainty, thinking is conditional. Accept what you know. You have experienced it. Accept the truth.”
I left her with the book of the Priesthood. Later that night she crawled into our bed. I held her and let her fall asleep that way.
It was two days later, long days of internal strife for her, when she called to me. “I have struggled. I have tried to not believe what I experienced. But I can’t anymore. I have met a God. I’ve read the passage called Wisdom of the Gods. It reminds us that the Gods have their reasons which we can only see like trees hidden by the fog, faintly and with limited understanding. I must accept the Great Spells. I must accept the commands of the Gods.”
I smiled and touched her hand. “I am glad. It will bring you peace as you align yourself with nature and the world. You will see the wisdom then.”
“It will be hard to watch you with another woman,” she said. “But I can do it.”
“Cheryl, you must clear your mind of this. When you perform the Rites you must delight in the gifts to the Gods. They will know your heart. It will not trouble me when you perform your sacrifice. I will be happy. Then you will be fully a Priestess. It will change you as my first spell changed me.”
“But I thought you would…” she stumbled to a halt.
I smiled and motioned at her book which opened to the page on the initiation of a Priestess. “Read. It says you must make the offering with a man.”
“But, you are a man,” she said.
“No, my love. I am not. And after your initiation you will no longer be merely a woman. You will have powers as well. They are different than mine, but they are great powers as well. They are the powers of nurturing and creation. Tonight, you must make your offering. I will help,” I said.
“Tonight?”
“Yes. It must be. Memorize the offering chant. Please,” I asked.
She looked stunned, but nodded. She started reading the offering chant of a Priestess initiate. I left her to memorize it.
I took up my book and opened it to the Rites of the Druids. Technically, it doesn’t require a wizard for the Rite. But I knew it would be much easier if I helped her find a suitable man and placed a spell over him. Not that it would be difficult to find a man willing to bed her. Any man would. But when the Gods appeared to accept her as their Priestess it would scare the bejesus out of a normal person. Best if he didn’t remember what had occurred. I read over the Rite until I knew all of the parts. I would act as the High Priest in the Rite, calling the Gods to accept their new Priestess.
It was late afternoon when Cheryl came to me. “I am ready,” she said stoically.
“My love. Lift your heart. It should be filled with joy and maybe a hint of trepidation,” I laughed.
She smiled in return, “Yes, my love.”
We walked to the park. Cheryl was wearing the robe of a Priestess and I the robe of the High Priest. Luckily for us, we were in San Francisco and so didn’t merit a second look. Once there Cheryl asked, “How will I know which one?”
“Look with your heart as well as eyes. It is called the Sight. I will help,” I said.
We were walking by the Tea Garden when I saw him. He was young and strong and I would guess handsome although my orientation as a male makes such judgments chancy. I pointed him out.
Cheryl gasped, “He looks Golden.”
“That is the Sight. He is the one,” I said.
He was walking towards us. As he approached he looked at Cheryl. I could tell he was puzzled by the intensity of her stare. He glanced at me and then back at Cheryl. He stopped a few feet away. As he glanced back at me I uttered the incantation. His eyes closed. I smiled at Cheryl who was wide-eyed again. ‘After tonight she will understand,’ I thought. “Open you eyes and follow us," I commanded.
We turned and walked to our Sacred Grove. Once there I had the young man sit under a tree. To Cheryl I said, “Now is the time for you to meditate on your new life. You will be dedicated to the service of the Gods. Open your heart.” I pronounced the welcoming chant of the High Priest. Then the Rules of the Druids. Finally, I chanted the beginning of the Ceremony of a New Priestess. I left Cheryl to meditate on her duties as called for in the Rite.
I went to the center of the Grove and chanted the preparation prayers, calling all of the Gods to witness the initiation of a new priestess. I called Ollathair, Sucellos, Cailleach, Cuchullin, Cernunnos, and Danu, Brigit, Meduana, Rhiannon, Morrigan, and Ogma. All of the First Gods.
The grove whispered with the power present. The Gods had come. They were pleased, so few now became a Priestess. When the last believer died, so too would the Gods. They filled the Grove with their presence.
I looked at Cheryl. She felt it.
Then, ringing in the air, the voice of Ollathair, the Sky Father, said in the ancient tounge, “We are here for the Rites. Where is the woman who wishes to offer the sacrifice?”
Cheryl came forward and as the ritual required, chanted her prayer to the Gods asking to be accepted in their service.
Ollathair answered, “We are pleased. So few follow the old ways. We are ready for the sacrifice.”
Cheryl removed her clothing and lay naked on the soft grasses of the glade. I called for the man and had him remove his clothing. He was staring at Cheryl, her legs wide in acceptance and his cock grew erect. She was wet with desire as he bent over her, lined up his cock and thrust into her. As he did Cheryl chanted the offering prayer, calling to the Gods to accept her gift to them.
The air grew electric as the Gods accepted the sacrifice, her pleasure. The light of the glade grew golden as the Gods gave back to their new Priestess the gifts they had. Cheryl screamed in climax and from the overwhelming sensations of the change. The man climaxed, filling her with his seed as the Gods feasted on the pleasure from both mortals.
It was done. Cheryl lay writhing under the man. He was spent, half dead from all of the energy drained away by the Gods.
The Glade stirred, the trees shimmered and danced as if a great wind was blowing. The glade was filled with voices, “She is accepted.” Then the glade was empty.
I chanted the closing prayer of the High Priest and it was done. I uttered a spell of refreshment. The man’s eyes opened and he was able to stand. “Get dressed.”
Cheryl lay on the grass. I touched her and felt the change that had been worked in her by the Gods. The touch brought her back. Her eyes opened and slowly focused on me. “Beloved.”
“I am here,” I said.
“I understand,” she said.
“I knew you would, Priestess,” I said.
Her eyes focused inward, “Yes, I am now a Priestess. Help me up.”
I helped her to rise. She trembled a little, then straightened and stood erect. She smiled, “My Love, you were so right.” I nodded. She went and dressed. Together, we led the man out of the grove. I chanted the release spell, leaving him near the Tea Garden where we found him. Cheryl and I walked back to the shop. Once in the shop she said, “I will bear you a daughter.”
Happily, I kissed her. “I hope she grows to be a Priestess just as her mother.”
“Yes. And my love, next time I will bear you a son, to grow strong and follow his father,” she said. Cheryl led me to our bed. “I have so much to give now. Take me. I want you in me, filling me with your seed.”
What’s a wizard to do? I happily obeyed the orders of the Priestess - then and many, many times after.
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