Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 The Priestess, Part 1 of 6
   by Nysidra
   This is a graphic story containing several erotic concepts and explicit
sexual descriptions.
   Occult Fantasy (MF, prosexual, group, magic, drugs, oani)
   Summary: Family, duty, oath keeping, and exposing evil within a
religion. The journey of one young woman's path toward her destiny.
   <->
   -_ Amira's Lie _Amira knocked back a shot of sweet rum mixed with tart
cranberry juice.  Her tongue took a long, seductive swipe of her bottom
lip, keeping the young male attention on her.  She laughed and winked at
her onlookers.
   When the music changed, she swiveled her hips against the wall,
imitating the moves of an exotic dancer.  She reached up and fondled her
breasts through the top of her dress.
   "Keep going!" A male voice shouted.
   Amira couldn't pick him out in the crowd, but the supporting cheers let
her know the others thought much of the same.  This was her last night
among the 'people.' Tomorrow she would enter a period of isolation and
blandness that would usher her toward becoming a spiritual leader of her
family, a Sidra.  Becoming a Sidra was an honor that spoke of her
dedication to the spirits and the energies they allowed her to access.
   Talus, her vath, the man responsible for initiating her into the family,
cleared the crowd around her and leveled a furious look her way.  "Amira!"
She straightened her clothes and sucked in her bottom lip.
   Talus didn't say anything else.  He grabbed her by the arm and drug her
through the house.  They walked toward the back into an empty library.  He
pushed her into the room and locked the door behind him.
   "Sir, I--" Amira gasped as he put his arms around her, crushed her with
his kiss.  He tasted of liquor himself, dark and strong, potent.  Amira
whimpered as her ass hit something hard, then she was sitting on it.
   Talus pulled away from her with a heavy pant.  "Fucking beautiful.  Want
you to dance like that on me."
   "Yes, sir." Talus looked upon her with appreciation as he lifted her
skirt.  She held her legs together as he slipped her panties off.  Several
men looked at her in this manner each day since her body began to swell
with womanhood.  She could feel their eyes, their energy, but Talus most of
all.
   At first Amira only teased her mentor.  She knew he liked looking at
her, so she showed her body off to him, never thinking he'd have any true
feelings for her.  Talus had children of his own much older than Amira, but
that didn't matter to her nor to him.  One day, when Amira was a Sidra and
no longer under his tutelage, he'd be able to admit their love.
   "Come on, girl." He pressed inside her, held her by the hips.  "Fuck,
you're so wet.  You're always so fucking wet and ready.  Show me."
   Amira rocked her hips against his, danced, undulating her body on him.
"Say it.  Tell me."
   His brilliant green eyes stared down at her and thrusts deep into her.
"I love you, darling.  More than any woman I've ever known.  You are my
fount of vitality, keeping me young, with that," He laughed and moaned. 
"Yeah, girl, work it.  You're all mine, aren't you baby girl?  Tell me."
   "I'm all yours."
   "I see you teasing those boys, but they wouldn't know what to do with
you."
   "You know how to make me feel good, sir."
   "I know how to make you come, don't I?"
   Amira whimpered as he pinched her nipples.  "Yes, sir.  Yes, you do."
   "Then come, baby girl.  Come hard."
   She did, and he thrust hard and fast, jostling her body, shifting the
desk under them, until he spilled inside her.
   Talus leaned over and kissed her neck.  "Don't worry.  I'm going to take
care of you during the ceremony.  Keep you," he chuckled, "from
temptation."
   "I bet," she whispered.
   He pulled out and slipped her panties back on.  "I've arranged for you
to stay near my house.  I'll look in on you." He brushed his thumb over her
lips.  "Feed you."
   Amira sucked his thumb into her mouth.
   "I wouldn't want my little vixen to go hungry."
   They shared a smile.
   Talus took a deep breath then stepped back from her.  He raised his
voice as he walked to the door.  "I don't want to see you out there making
a fool of yourself girl.  You're going to be a Sidra soon and you need to
command respect.  Understood?!"
   Amira picked her panties off the floor and hurried to get them back on.
"Yes, sir.  I'm sorry.  I understand."
   Talus unlocked the door and ushered her out.
   ***
   Amira shuddered with nerves as Tallula paced the room.
   "Girl, don't tell me what you're not!  I see it in you.  How long you
been in this state?  Shadow is no place for the gestation of a life.  The
Praefawn energy will become too strong, throw everything off balance.  Who
was it?"
   Amira placed a protective hand over her belly.  Tears streamed down her
cheeks.  She wouldn't say.  She had promised to keep their love secret
until she became a Sidra.  She only needed a few more months.  "I don't
know."
   "Have you told anyone else?"
   "No, Madam.  No one even knew.  I'm not showing."
   "I'll need to tell your vath, see what he thinks.  Talus has been so
proud of you taking the elements.  Whatever he says, you need to follow his
advice, understood?"
   "Yes, Madam.  I understand."
   Tallula shook her head.  "You are a terrible liar, girl.  You can't
carry on being such a slut when you take the elements.  You need to be
mindful of the men you choose and their character, spilling into your womb,
getting yourself full with child."
   "I am not a slut, Madam."
   "Oh?  Then you have a boyfriend?  Who is your intended?"
   Amira dropped her head.
   Talulla was her second vath, her counselor and the Sidra that had deemed
Amira ready to take on greater spiritual dedication.  The full-figured
woman tightened her lips into a thin line as she reached for her oracle.
   Each Sidra had their own oracle, a bag or box of 36 representations of
the energies.  The oracle was the Sidra's personal divinatory tool for
communicating with the spirits, the Pasebs.
   Amira stopped breathing.  She didn't think Tallula would do a reading,
not yet.
   A knock came upon the door and Amira breathed a sigh of relief.
   "Enter," Tallula said.
   Talus walked in and Amira kept her head down.  She was glad he was here
now.  Tallula could hear it from him that she'd been true to him.  Maybe
Tallula could help them keep their relationship secret.
   "She's with child, Talus," said Tallula.  "She won't tell me how far
along, but she's going to be showing at the ceremony."
   "Has she said who?"
   Tallula tisked and kept pulling the glass disks from her bag.  "She
probably don't know who.  It's a wonder to me she's kept to the shadow."
Each glass disk clinked as they met the wood table under them.
   Amira looked over to Talus, pleading with him to tell her.
   "Don't know why you're looking at me.  I told you to tone yourself down.
You still want to make Sidra?"
   His words didn't make any sense.  "Yes, but--"
   "Then end it."
   Amira blinked, trying to let the words settle in, but he didn't explain,
and his face looked as hard as ever.  He was usually stern with her in
public, but this wasn't public.  Tallula was doing the reading.  The
spirits would tell her.
   "Hmm," Tallula moaned low in her throat.  "You right, Talus." She drew
two more disks and set the bag aside.  "Conceived in lies and gestated in
shadow.  What you carry will bring destruction and shame to the family if
you give birth."
   "Shame?" Amira's mouth hung agape.  She spun back to Talus.  "Tell her!"
   "She has already seen it, Amira," said Talus.  "I am an old man, weak in
spirit against your vibrance and youth.  I knew it was wrong when you
seduced me, and I have seen that you lied about your fertility.  I still
think you will make a decent Sidra, but something should be done about your
deceptiveness.  The energies that rule you are full of trickery and base
nature.  Hopefully, with maturity, you will learn to overcome these
faults."
   Amira couldn't see.  No matter how many times she blinked, more tears
rose to blind her.
   "I'll make arrangements for you to put an end to this.  Clear yourself
of the Praefawn influence before you make the elements.  You have time to
end it painlessly."
   "Th-this ...  this is ..." Amira's whole body shook with tears.  He said
he loved her?  Was he just being mean?  She was carrying his child, their
child.  He ...  he ...
   "I'll have an elixir ready within a few days."
   "What about my child?" Amira struggled to make her voice even, steady,
to tamp down the hurt trying to strangle her.  "What if I don't want to end
my pregnancy?"
   "It's not enough that you would seduce your own vath?  But you want to
gestate that lie inside you and deliver shame and destruction to your
family?  All behind your selfish, whorish ways?"
   An emptiness washed away the hurt, the confusion, the anger ...  for the
space of a few seconds all turned silent within.
   Amira stood and growled her next words.  "That is not what happened.  It
is not true!" She slammed her fist onto the table and Tallula's oracle bag
bounced, tumbled to its side, and several of the disks fell to the floor
and cracked.
   The emptiness switched off, letting through a flood of base emotion:
fear, worry, the moment when you brace internally, waiting for the pain.
   "That's not all you want to destroy, is it you foolish bitch?" Tallula
seethed.  "Destroy a man's relationship with his wife, his children, your
family." She pointed to the broken disks.  "You disrespect the spirits with
your fucking moods.  Out!  Get out!"
   ***
   Amira sat in her room waiting for Talus to come to her, for him to
explain his plan, for him to give her some word of encouragement.
   She waited, but only Tallula arrived with the mixture she promised.
   "Take this first.  Wait until you feel a flutter in your belly.  Then
dissolve these cakes into a palm-full of water every two hours.  Drink the
mixture.  You'll cramp and it will hurt, but you'll shed it within a couple
days."
   "Please, can I talk to Talus first?"
   "No.  You've caused that man enough trouble, and he has enough children.
You know he has a life partnership, Amira.  You need to think more deeply
about the consequence of your actions."
   Amira felt her heart breaking anew.  He said he loved her.  He said that
she was her vitality.  He gave her a reason to wake up in the morning.  Why
didn't he tell her?  Why wouldn't he find a way to see her?  Amira set the
elixir on her bedside table.  "Then what do I do?"
   "When you've expelled your burden, I will move forward with the reading
regarding your ceremony.  You cannot take the elements with that inside
you. You'll live to give birth again.  You're a young woman, and all your
time and energy needs to be spent learning to manage Ustufu, as its energy
seems to rule you so strongly."
   "Yes, Madam."
   She waited and waited for Talus to come to her.  He always found a way
to visit her.  He never needed a reason.  He was her vath.
   Amira transcribed a circle around her belly button.  This was all she
had of Talus.  He promised her so much, but now that she had his child, he
wanted nothing to do with her.
   Tears and heartbreak rose anew.  No one would believe her.  No one would
defend her.  Tallula treated her like she was the scum of the family. 
Talus denied their love to everyone.
   She worried the string of fat beads on her wrist as she stared at the
pills and powder-cakes in her lap.
   She did not want to end the evidence of her love growing in her belly.
While she had been free with her affection, Amira had only ever loved a
single man, her vath, her mentor, her star in the bleak sky: Talus.
   Her child wouldn't bring shame to the family if she was no longer a
member of this so called 'family.'
   The only person who should be ashamed was them, not her.
   ***
   Mason rubbed his eyes and blinked.  Why would she be calling him?  Amira
and Mason had been closest friends before the influence of her family ended
that friendship.  Their last conversation had been tense.  Amira made it
clear that her family was always more important than their friendship.
   He took a deep breath and put on a smile.  Play nice.  "What's up?"
   "Hey, Mason.  Are you awake?" Her voice was soft like she was
whispering.
   He sat a little straighter and closed his eyes.  "Wide awake.  What's
the matter?  You don't sound so hot."
   "I need ...  need you.  I need a favor, a big favor." Amira tried to
keep her sniffle silent, but failed.  "I can't stay here.  I need to run,
and fast."
   Mason turned on his bedside lamp and was half out the bed.  "Anything
you need, any place you want."
   "You pick.  Tonight, if possible.  I need to," Amira took a moment to
compose herself.  "Help me, please."
   ***
   Soraya's curly dark hair fell down all around her face.  It didn't
matter.  She had the same set of guitar chords memorized.  She switched
between them, picking out the lick with a different pattern each time. 
Acoustic music filled the tiny apartment.  Each time the transition became
a little smoother as her fingers learned to move without conscious
instruction, seeking the next position by memory.
   Music was her escape.  It helped fill the gaping hole of emptiness that
was supposed to be the best years of her life.  Soraya had friends a plenty
but they didn't fill the hole, the need, the desire to be surrounded
constantly by people she knew and loved: a family.
   Keys turned the lock on the front door.  Soraya's mother, Amira, entered
the house and set her purse aside.  She peeled out of her work uniform on
her way to the back room.
   Soraya set her guitar aside and gathered her sheet music.  Once her
things were put away, she went to the kitchen and pulled the chicken breast
from the fridge.  She put a pot of water on to boil and measured the herbs,
rice, and vegetables.
   She poured a cup of water and left it on the counter.
   Amira entered the kitchen and took large gulps from the cup until it was
empty.  She sat to the counter and set the empty glass down in front of
her. "How was school?"
   "Good.  I'm rated proficient in introductory physiology, but only
moderate in climatology."
   "Proficient, huh?  Thinking about taking up medicine now?" Amira's eyes
were half closed as she issued the praise.
   No, she was just good at it, but she didn't care to share.
   Her mother's sleepy state gave Soraya the confidence she needed to forge
ahead.  "Meara invited me to go on a camping trip with her family.  Can I
go, please?  It's only for a week."
   "Meara," Amira whispered over and over.  "Don't you have other friends?
Meara this, Meara that.  Why would she invite you to a function with her
people?  If they're going to a family event then you don't belong."
   Soraya turned down the temperature on the boiling pot of rice then began
to fry up the vegetables.  She looked over her shoulder, but her mother
wasn't sleep anymore.  Her light honey colored eyes were waiting for an
answer.
   Soraya had light eyes like her mother's but they were green, a brilliant
verdant green like fresh spring grass.  Often times, Soraya thought she'd
been adopted, stolen from a family and hidden away in this place, sheltered
from the world.  Times like this, the fantasy reared its head.
   "I ask you a question, I don't expect to wait long for the answer."
   "Yes, mother, I have other friends, but I like her.  I like being around
her.  It's nice being at her house.  I wish I had a family like that.  They
are always doing stuff together and they get along so well."
   Amira snorted.  She rose from the table and pulled a wine glass down
from the cabinet.
   "Not until dinner, mother."
   Amira slammed the cabinet shut, but she went over to the fridge and
poured another glass of water.
   "Get along so well," she hissed.  "Looks like that from the outside, but
inside.  Inside ...  they are festering.  Large families are tribes.  They
are a hive, a flock, and unless you're the leader, you're catching farts in
the back of the group.  Once family gets an opinion about you, you're
stuck. You are what they say you are, Amira, nothing more.  Grass ain't
green on the other side, it's winter brown, dry and stale."
   "How would you know?  You don't even have a family."
   "I have you, and that's all I've ever needed."
   Soraya rolled her eyes.  "Yeah, well, I'm growing up." She put the
seasoned chicken breasts onto the hot skillet.  "You won't have me forever.
I want to find a father for my children.  I'm going to have like ten babies
and start my own family.  We'll go on trips together, have big dinners, go
to great parties.  My family will be so big that we can throw our own
festivals.  Come turn of the year, we will have to rent out a whole park to
hold us.  When I have my own--" Soraya's tirade at the stove tapered off.
   Was that a sob?
   She looked back and saw the twisted pain in her mother's face.  Tears
streamed down her cheeks.  "What's the matter?"
   Amira shook her head and dapped at her eyes.  She swallowed thickly and
nodded.  "Yes, Soraya.  That's good.  I hope you do that.  You'll sit at
the head of the table as the elder, looking down at the generations you've
helped bring into the world." She smiled, but it looked painful.
   Soraya blinked tears from her own eyes.
   Amira stood.  "Put my plate aside when you're done.  I'm going to have a
soak and get a few documents done for Mr.  Charles."
   "See, if we had a large family, you wouldn't have to work so hard. 
Large families pool resources and help protect each other."
   "I know," Amira turned and hugged Soraya and kissed her on the top of
her head.  "Don't let anyone ever change your mind on that.  Okay?"
   Soraya pressed her face into her mother's shirt.  She didn't mean to
make her upset.  "So, um..."
   Amira chuckled.  "What?"
   "Can I go?"
   "Can I have wine before dinner?"
   Soraya smiled.  "I'll pour you a glass and bring it to you in the bath."
   "If you have any trouble at all, you call me.  I'll come to wherever you
are and rescue you.  I'll even pretend it's my fault.  If you ever need
rescuing, you might not have a family, but you have me, and I will always
fight for you, baby girl.  Always."
   "I know, mom.  Go relax.  I'll bring you your treat."
   "All right now," Amira said as she headed for the bathroom.
   ***
   Omari tapped the eraser end of his pencil on his desk while Madam Helen
lectured the class at the front of the room.  Madam Helen was the head of
the parent-teacher association for the school.  If there was a rally, a
fund raiser, or school function, the parents could count on Madam Helen to
play a major part.
   Last month, she had received a teacher of the year award.  That was
nothing new for the statuesque educator.  She'd won the award three years
in a row at this point.
   No one could say anything bad about the pillar of their educational
system.  Parents called for her take a position on the education council.
Madam Helen insisted her place was with her students.
   The pencil bounced a little harder off his open book.  Yeah, her
students.  He'd bet she didn't want to leave, no fresh crop of victims each
year at in education council.
   That's all Omari could think about, not the words coming out of her
mouth, not her prattle about different types of poetic forms.  He couldn't
concentrate on something so benign when the head teacher, an advisor and
role model, had been abusing his friend, Jason.
   Jason lived down the street from Omari.  They'd come up playing together
for years.  Jason was a year younger, barely entering puberty.  He had her
as a teacher for all of three months before Madam Helen made her move. 
Omari understood why she struck so quickly.  Jason was a soft spoken,
unassuming young boy with long golden curls of hair and a proclivity for
reading over playing.
   Jason only told Omari about Madam Helen under great pressure.  Omari
could see something was wrong and had a gnawing urge to figure it out. 
Jason cried as he made Omari swear never to breathe a word to anyone else.
His whole face had turned red with shame and his whole small body wracked
with sorrow.
   Omari wouldn't breathe a word.  He'd never break his confidence,
especially not one of a friend.  Omari swallowed the rage.  His fury wasn't
going to help Jason.  He looked at his teacher, really looked at her.  He
listened to her, not the words, but her voice.  The pencil flipped in his
fingers and he wrote down the little details that came to mind.
   Shy.  Awkward.  Submissive.  Defenseless.  Quiet.
   The bell wrung, but Omari stayed behind.  Last class of the day.  All
the other students were eager to rush out and catch the bus.  Omari could
walk home if he needed to, but he wouldn't today.
   Today would be different.  Today he would reveal Madam Helen for the
terrorizing lech she was.
   Helen smiled.  He'd always found her smile so warm and inviting. 
"Omari? Can I help you with something?"
   "Yes, Madam, please."
   What was once warm, welcoming, and open now felt predatory.  That smile
revealed excitement, salivating at a new challenge.  Amazing how new
information changed the way a person appeared.  People were composed of
information and history, fluid, changing.  No matter what you thought you
knew, there could always be something in the corner, one piece that colors
everything in a different way.
   Omari fully embraced his change.  Notes in mind, he took on the shy,
unsure manner that seemed chum to her deviant appetite.  He asked about the
chapter they covered last week, making sure to pause and look her in the
eye.  He affected the blush needed and turned away, stammering.
   Her manicured fingers brushed the nape of his neck sending tingles down
his spine.  Her soft touch set his heart to racing.  "Something's different
about you, Omari.  Talk to me.  You know you can tell me anything."
   Omari shied away, locked in, afraid to be touched any further.  He
affected a stammer.  "Maybe not anything, Madam."
   She pulled him close, into her bosom.  "You will tell me anything."
   Baited.
   "Please, Madam Helen, I'm sorry.  I'll tell you anything." He sniffled
when she let go of his neck, releasing him from her bosom.  "I need to go."
   "Omari," she put her hand on his thigh, no doubt meant to seem a
comfort. He knew from Jason's story that it was a threat.
   Omari thought about laughter, sunlight glinting through strands of hair,
good music, dancing with an energetic partner.
   Madam Helen didn't know it, but her hand was in the perfect position to
feel him stiffen and lengthen.  Her hand twitched as her fingers met the
head of his erection.  "What are you doing with that?"
   "It ...  I didn't mean ...  I don't know why."
   "I know why."
   "You do?"
   She put her forehead to his, their noses nearly touching.  She smelled
good, like peaches.  "Of course I do.  It's quite natural.  You're a young
man, growing, experiencing new emotions and thoughts.  You can't go
anywhere with that monster rearing its head.  Sit right there." Madam Helen
stood and went to close the classroom door.
   This wasn't going to work if he tried to get out of it unscathed.  Omari
stood up and ran for the door.  "Wait?  I don't--"
   Madam Helen grabbed him by the throat and pinned him to the wall.  Her
scolding look said everything.  "You don't?" She angled down and put her
ear to his lips.  Her other hand reached into his pants.  Cool fingers
wrapped around his shaft.
   "Don't think I can use it right," Omari whispered.  He would do a lot
for a friend, but taking her nails in his scrotum wasn't on that list.
   Her fingers moved up and down the length of him, and she grinned.  "You
can't come into class like this and be expected to focus on your studies.
You're a bright young man with a great future ahead of you.  When I talk to
your parents, I want to be able to tell them what a brilliant and obedient
young man you're becoming."
   Omari widened his eyes and his mouth opened.  "Are you going to tell
them that ...  that I ..." He didn't have to fake the catch in his voice.
Madam Helen knew exactly how to touch him.  Her hands stroked him with a
softness and confidence that made him ache to feel her naked flesh against
his.
   Unwilling, Omari reminded himself.
   "I want to tell them that you're obedient.  Will you be good for me?"
   "Tell them ...  that I ...  Madam, I ...  what do you want me to do?"
Omari looked up at the ceiling in defeat.  How bad could it hurt?  Really?
   She stood back and coaxed him down onto the floor.  She unfastened his
khakhi pants and then her soft fingers stroked his erection.  "You're quite
a man, Omari, a man who is going to need a lot of care and attention if
you're going to focus on what's important in life."
   "I don't want you to touch me.  I can take care of it by myself.  I need
to get home!" Omari screamed the rest in silence.  She had her hand tight
around his throat and a claw in his cock.
   "Stop resisting me." The nails went away.  "Calm down.  There's no
reason for you to act this way.  You have a problem, and I promised to help
you with it.  You want to be a good boy, don't you?"
   Omari gasped for air.  A breath he was sure he wouldn't be able to take
if she held on any longer.  "Yes, Madam."
   "You want me to help you?"
   "Yes, Madam."
   "That's right.  Good, strong, boy." She hiked her dress and straddled
him.  Her eyes rolled back in her head as she lowered her body onto his. 
Wet heat enveloped his shaft.  She took his wrists in her hand and pinned
them down over his head.  "Tell me you want me.  Tell me you need me."
   Omari frowned up at her.  Really?  She was going to fuck him?  He could
have spared himself the ball torture?
   She pinched his ear, twisted it, and her hand went back around his
throat.  Like Jason said, it wasn't so much the pain, but the sensation of
dying when she choked him.  "Say it, you disgusting piece of shit.  Tell me
how much you need to come, empty your balls into my pussy.  You ever been
inside a real woman?  I know that's what you want, better me than some
other girl.  You need a woman for that much cock.  Hung like a fucking
horse."
   She was still choking him, but not so much that he couldn't breathe. 
She forgot all about forcing a response out of him as she bobbed up and
down on him.  She was the one moaning and panting as her body shuddered.
   If she wasn't such a predator, he could have made her scream.
   Omari looked at the clock, 4pm.
   The classroom door unlocked, but Helen didn't hear it over her own
babbling.
   The head principal, head of the education council, and a reporter
entered the classroom.  They wanted to surprise Madam Helen with an article
about her selfless dedication to children.
   Eyes closed, shuddering and moaning, her hand around Omari's throat,
Madam Helen issued quote that would follow her to her grave.  "You will
never say no to me again."
   No more Madam Helen.
   ***
   Madam Helen was the first, but she wasn't the last.  Omari had a 'gift'
for exposing nasty secrets other people tried to hide from the world.  His
methods made the reveal extra salacious.  The drama he caused kept it
interesting for him.
   His older brother, Gordon, had come to him with a question posed as a
curiosity.
   "You're saying that if she's going to be unfaithful, then you can figure
it out?"
   "Oh yeah.  It doesn't have anything to do with me.  It's how she feels
about me."
   He arched a brow.  "Even if she's ugly?"
   "I've seen maybe two legitimately ugly women my entire life.  It doesn't
have anything to do with me other than whether I reject or allow the
advance."
   Gordon scratched his head.  "Wait, hold on, fuck.  Are you saying you
never have to wonder who wants to fuck you?"
   Omari shrugged a little and hit his grin.
   "That's some religious power." Gordon nodded.  "Good talk."
   Trusting his brother with his 'religious power' led to this moment years
later.
   Omari sat beside his mother on the living room couch.  Both his
brothers, both older, Gordon and Denise, sat in chairs opposite the couch.
All of them were waiting for their father, Joshua, to join them.
   Yes, Denise was his brother.  Omari thought of him that way despite the
swell of breasts, wide hips, and yes, the vagina.  As far as Omari was
concerned, he had two brothers.
   Joshua entered the room and sat in the chair between Omari and Gordon.
"I told her parents that we weren't going to press charges." Joshua looked
at Omari and sighed.  "Tell me why."
   Omari looked at Gordon, his mother Elizabeth, then to Denise.  Why? 
That was the most obvious question of all.  "Gordon wanted to marry her. 
She didn't care about him.  She didn't even love him.  She doesn't have
good parents and she isn't a good woman."
   "I'll say," his mother grinned.
   Joshua cast her a worried glance.  "Why aren't you taking this
seriously?"
   "I am.  I am relieved." Elizabeth looked at Gordon with a knowing smile.
"You asked him to do it, didn't you?"
   Gordon stared at the tips of his leather loafers as he nodded.  "Yes. 
We planned it."
   It wasn't the first time Omari had tested the voracity of his brother's
girlfriends, but it was the first time one had failed in such spectacular
fashion, bringing her and her whole family down in the process.  Adolescent
abuse, theft, and attempted murder.
   Elizabeth pulled Omari over and kissed him on the head.  "I've suspected
it for a while, but I'm sure now.  My baby is an avatar.  I don't have a
doubt in the world.  In a few years, with some practice, you'll have better
control.  You'll learn when and how to operate without being at the center
of attention.  She could have killed you.  You need to be careful when you
pull the mask off a monster."
   Joshua leaned forward.  "Liz?  A what?"
   Omari had heard her explanation before, back when his mother wasn't
sure, she'd told him about the people who formed a special connection with
the Pasebs.  Mostly, they were called Sidra, but sometimes, a person became
the energy of that Paseb, a single one, expressing that energy in the same
way each time.  Such a person was more than a Sidra.  An avatar never had
to go through the gates of religion or the repetition of ritual to connect
with the spirit, it was always there, in his body and mind.
   His mother took him to the festivals and pointed out the different
devotees.  She introduced him to a Sidra and explained how they used their
connection to the spirits to serve other devotees.  This community was
called a family.  In very rare instances, a Paseb preferred a direct,
hands-on, personal approach.  The fusing of mind and body and had a
influence on the person - a lifetime of possession - like having a twin
born inside you.  It was the highest calling and responsibility of any
person.
   Elizabeth explained the same thing to her other two children and husband
for the first time.  "I'm not talking about stories or fables.  He's a real
avatar, carrying the influence of a spirit.  I don't know its name.  I'm
not sure Omari knows yet, but the name is for him to learn and call upon in
due time.  He needs to be taught, but I'll take care of it."
   "Since when are you a devotee?" Joshua laughed nervously.
   "When the Pasebs talk, I listen.  This has nothing to do with family.  I
know enough to help my child."
   "What if we did?" said Denise.  "I want to learn too.  Karen is a member
of a family, and I hate hearing about it from the outside.  I like Omari's
Paseb.  It's bad assed."
   Denise and Omari shared a smile from across the coffee table.  No doubt
he was thinking about the times he took him to the skating rink.  "I wish I
was a pussy-magnet," he'd sigh with a huge grin as girls walked over to
flirt with him and talk.
   Elizabeth looked at Joshua and Gordon.  "Anyone else?"
   His father shrugged.  "If it has to do with Omari, yes, I want to know."
   Gordon, still staring at his shoes, nodded.
   "Then we'll do this as a family." She put her arm around Omari's
shoulders and kissed him on the temple.  "The way a true family should. 
You'll keep us true, won't you?"
   Omari slight smile broadened.  "Yes, mother."
   ***
   Soraya hung up from the difficult conversation with her mother and went
in search of her boyfriend.  If there was anyone who would hold her and
comfort her now, Idris would.  She really needed a friend.
   She knocked on his door, barely holding her sorrow inside.
   Angeline opened the door.  "Babe?  Soraya's here."
   "Fuck." Idris cursed.
   Something inside the room fell over.
   "What are you doing here?" The door slammed in Soraya's face before she
could get the question out.
   For several seconds she just stood there, dumb and confused.  She pulled
back and checked room number.
   The door opened again and Idris had on his sweats and a t-shirt.  "I
didn't know you were coming over."
   "I didn't think I had to warn you."
   "Listen, don't make this difficult.  I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?  I
didn't want you to find out this way."
   Find out this way?  Find out...?  Soraya nodded and headed down the
hallway.  One foot in front of the other in a fog.
   Idris and Soraya had that talk, and it wasn't the kind of conversation
Soraya needed.  Her boyfriend, a guy who had been too good to be true,
drove the knife deeper.
   A week later, Soraya made an appointment with her advisor.  A glance at
the clock said she had twenty more minutes to sulk.  Within her body, her
heart crumbled.  This was worse than heart break, it was deterioration. 
Idris and his criminally nice demeanor rose up to bite her in the ass just
as she learned about her mother's heart disease.  Nice guy Idris had only
been staying with her because he was too much of a wuss to break up with
her.  No, she had to learn about his 'real' girlfriend the hard way and
suffer his excuses.
   Damn it all to hell.  She really liked Idris.  The whole nice guy thing
had been working for her until today.  Why couldn't he have told her the
truth?
   Why couldn't her mother be healthy?
   Why couldn't she concentrate on her studies while the scaffolding of her
life rotted away?  Everyone she depended on and loved were disappearing.
   Soraya blinked her eyes dry.  She wasn't going to cry in the fucking
waiting room damn it.  She needed...
   Oh, talk about a breath of fresh air.  During the inner pity party,
someone else had walked into the waiting room.  Tall, dark, and handsome in
every aspect of the word.  Damn it, just like Idris, talk about having a
type.
   "I like the way you look too." He winked at her.  One chocolate smooth
sentence out of his mouth and Amira got the feeling there was nothing
'nice' about this guy.  That was a conspirator's wink.
   She flashed him a polite smile and looked at the clock.  Fifteen minutes
and she was going to put this college crap aside, get a job.  Her mother
would kill herself working two jobs.  Soraya needed to help her mother now.
   He smelled ...  sweaty.  Not like the disgusting kind of sweat. 
Different.  Soraya took a slow deep breath.  Male, so very male.  Chemicals
scrambled her brain.  Could she get that scent on a towel?
   As if he knew her, he put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her
head to his chest.  "What's got you so upset, gorgeous?"
   The gates shattered and a torrent of tears burst forth.  Amira rarely
cried.  Why would she bother?  Her mother was always too busy to deal with
tears, and with no one else in the picture, not even a real boyfriend... 
Her mother was a introverted disciplinarian.  No time for friends or lovers
or family.  Amira began talking and couldn't stop.
   As nice as Idris was, he was company, a friend, a hope.  They kissed and
got a little handsy, but he was never a shoulder, or chest rather, to cry
on.  Soraya clung to him, and drank in his smell and used him like one of
the teddy bears on her bed back at home.
   Words fells like tears.  A lot of things had her upset, and fifteen
minutes was too long to wait to tell it to a disinterested advisor.  She'd
regret her confession later, when she looked up and saw the same regret in
his eyes.  Soraya was taking on the whole armor of the emotionally fragile
girl.  Unfamiliar and strange, but the only thing she had to wear at the
moment.
   "I can't concentrate long enough to finish any of my assignments."
Soraya sniffled.  "I'm going to drop out.  I need to help my mother.  She's
done everything for me, and I've done nothing." She pulled away and grabbed
the tissues by the couch.  She couldn't look him in the eye, not yet.  She
cleaned his shirt.
   The counselor's door opened with a metal groan.  "Miss Soraya?"
   "She needs a moment," he answered.
   "Fine," the soft voice of the advisor answered.  "Mister Omari?"
   "Give us a few minutes?  I'm busy."
   Soraya didn't see the response, but she heard the door close.  "I guess
I better get on with this."
   "Not so fast." He grabbed a couple tissues, lifted her face by the chin
and began to wipe her tears.  "You think the best way to help your mother
is to quit school?"
   Her dream of becoming a financial advisor didn't matter as much anymore.
Soraya thought of those words, but said, "It would help me too.  I don't
want to deal with this pressure.  I want to give up."
   Mr.  Handsome had dark brown eyes framed by coal black lashes.  His lips
were full and dark red, kissable.  The advisor had called him Omari.  Omari
stared at her as if he hadn't expected her to say that.
   That made two of them.  She was being a coward, but an honest one.  "The
stress ...  having to look at Idris.  It would be easier on me if I quit."
   "I think it would be better to continue.  You're trying to punish
yourself for events caused by other people.  Opposite energy quiets.  Like
energy enhances.  Answer pain with pain, and what do you get?"
   More pain.  She didn't ask for his opinion, but he didn't ask for a
shirt full of tears.  Amira sniffled and nodded.  "More pain."
   "I think a little pressure will make you stronger." He leaned forward
and Soraya discovered just how kissable those lips were.
   Soraya broke away from him with a gasp.  He seemed to light her whole
body on fire.  "Do you have a girlfriend?"
   He chuckled.  "I have a series of women I sleep with."
   "Knew it," she whispered.
   "That obvious?"
   "Goodness, yes.  No offense, but yeah.  I already did my best with
Idris. You are too fucking delicious."
   He grinned, not seeming put off by her sudden attraction at all.  "Let
me take you back to my room.  I'd love to make you feel better."
   Her mouth hung open for a second, then closed.  "As your girlfriend?"
   "No."
   Soraya stood and shook her head.  "No.  I'm not interested.  If I wanted
that, I would have stayed with Idris." Soraya gathered her backpack and
shouldered it.  "I really appreciate the offer, but I'm looking to start a
family, not join a series." She pointed toward the advisor's door.  "All
yours.  Have a good day."
   "Stick with your education, gorgeous." He said to her back.
   Fucking principles.  How bad would it be to sing in the chorus line for
a moment?  Furthermore, how bad would it be to let a man who so clearly
knew his way around a kiss make her feel good for a night?
   Probably really bad, worse it'll ever be.
   Soraya chuckled as she walked back to her dorm.  All the nice guys are
liars and the honest men are roamers.
   Fucking hell.  She'd have to finish college if she didn't want to be
alone and working a string of shitty jobs like her mother.  Definitely.
   And not because he said so.  Nope, had nothing to do with him at all.
   ***
   Omari watched the sway of her hips as she walked away.  He hadn't been
embellishing when he called her gorgeous.  She had an enticing figure, all
hips, tits, and ass.  Her beautiful face and those gemstone eyes were
marred by her inner troubles.  Omari wondered how she'd look just moments
before an orgasm, pleading, desirable, begging with her expression, and
then the moments after, serene, blissed out.
   He had felt the usual stirring when he sat next to her.  It was when
someone felt a strong attraction to him.  In turn, Omari had an urge to get
to know someone, to find out about them.  He learned far more than he
bargained for.  The girl had confessed all her pain and troubles, but
instead of exposing any lies or secrets, there was only honesty, hurt, and
confusion.
   Perhaps she just needed an extra dose of strength that would help her
finish college.  Maybe they would meet again later and she'd take him up on
his offer for a roll in the sheets after balancing his investments.  He'd
run her through every erotic gamut in his repertoire.
   Best of all, by meeting and speaking with her, Omari had kept Soraya out
of that bastard's office.
   Omari entered the office and sat across from his advisor, Mister Trent.
   Omari had no problem with run of the mill scumbags, people who did dirty
and didn't care who knew about it - or only cared that they didn't get
caught.  For some reason, Omari gave a person like that a pass, but a very
particular kind of asshole enraged him to his core.
   That rage inducing transgression was mounted on the wall above Mister
Trent's desk: Outstanding Academic Advisor of the Year.
   Trent and his group of co-conspirator professors took advantage of
students in desperate situations.  He sold these students out for rankings,
scholarships, internship positions, and even favored time slots and
classes. Male or female, Trent could find someone susceptible to
exploitation and blackmail.
   Having met such a gorgeous, forthright, and emotionally bald woman
tempered Omari's bitterness about people and their scathing arrogance.  The
memory of their kiss, her swollen lips covered with the salt of tears, gave
him the clarity for the trap he was about to set, the trap that would free
Peyton University of this scourge.
   "Soraya will reschedule."
   "All right.  Sorry to hear that.  Is she okay?"
   "Relationship troubles or something."
   Trent nodded.  "How can I help you?"
   "I heard," Omari paused.  "I really need to bolster my cultural studies,
and there's the music appreciation course, but I can't even sign up for it.
Matthew told me I have to get an advisor's permission."
   "Give me a second, let me pull up your courses." Trent typed away and
stared at the monitor.  "You've been doing pretty well.  I see you had
alpine homesteading last year." He nodded.  "You're right.  No instruments
or theory.  That's not going to look good if you want a Communications
Accreditation.  There are two instrument courses open."
   "I know," Omari held his hands up.  "Do these look like violin or flute
hands?  Please, I want to get my accreditation this year.  Please, sir,
Matthew said you could help."
   Trent chuckled.  "All right, all right.  I'll see what I can do here,
but ...  damn."
   Omari leaned forward.
   "I just saw it open, too.  The course is full.  I could talk to Miss
Grace about putting you on a list, but that might not work out any better."
   "I'll work really hard.  The class is the perfect time and everything.
If there's anything I can do.  Seriously.  Please, sir."
   "What's your evening schedule look like?  Do you have any time to
volunteer?"
   "Yes, sir."
   Trent pulled out a folder and handed him a slip of paper.  "I'm doing
this as a favor for you, but this isn't the end of it.  I just want to see
if you're as good as your word.  We could use some volunteers at this
event. Show me you're willing to show some dedication, and I'll speak
personally with Miss Grace."
   "Yes, sir," Omari put on his best dumb, thankful grin.  "Thank you so
much."
   ***
   Soraya never encountered Omari on campus again, but she thought of him
often, and not just for his looks.  Soraya got herself together and focused
on her assignments.  She put Idris out of her mind and convinced her mother
to work less.  Soraya got a job in the evenings to help out with her own
expenses.
   When her curiosity become too great to ignore, she pulled out a class
album and searched for his face.  Two years ahead, and that meant he'd
graduated the spring after they'd met.
   Damn and double damn.
   He might not have been a man she could spend her life with, but she
would have given him that moment of pleasure.  Soraya didn't like to think
of her sexual urges as 'needs,' but going several months without made the
urge stronger.  Need seemed like the perfect description.
   It was a need she purposefully ignored for the remainder of her college
career.
   Soraya graduated with an accreditation in Finance with a Technology
specialization.  That specialization helped her land an internship with
Technology Engineering Corp, well known for seeding their company with
early recruits.  On Monday, she was going to sign the lease on a new
apartment and move her mother in.
   Needs aside, her life was turning out for the better.
   Soraya bobbed around on the dance floor, feeling good and loose and
happy.  A man's hands wrapped around her waist, but she didn't care. 
Soraya leaned back and danced against him.
   Big man, her ass rolled along the erection pressing into her.  What
would it take for him to put that inside her?  Graduation, a job prospect,
and a great orgasm would make this the best weekend of her life.
   Who is this horny behemoth?  Soraya turned and gasped.  She would have
stumbled if he weren't holding her so close.  He didn't say anything.  Just
leaned down and kissed her.
   That's all that needed to be said.  Soraya kissed him back and it was
better than she remembered.  She wrapped her arms around his body as their
tongues dueled.  He did things to her body, and as wound up as she was, he
didn't have to stop.
   The music lulled and Omari walked her off the dance floor over to a
table.  When she thought he'd say something they just started making out
again.
   Yes, please, yes, Soraya begged.  Wait, she needed to find out if he had
a girlfriend or just a bunch of girls.
   That's not important.
   But it was, it had to be.
   Soraya's phone buzzed along her side.  She eased back and looked at the
screen: her mother.  Soraya silenced the call and worked her sore jaw.
   "Didn't think I'd ever see you again.  Can I get you a drink?"
   "Sure, I'll walk over with you.  How have you been?"
   "Pretty good.  I was in town visiting family, so I decided to check out
some of my old haunts.  Still in school?"
   "Just graduated.  Thanks."
   "Just graduated?  Sounds like a call for celebration."
   Soraya blushed and grinned.  Oh, so many ways she could answer that. 
Her phone started buzzing again.  "I could use some aggressive stress
relief, if that offer stands."
   "It's my specialty."
   Her phone buzzed again.  The text message read: "Now.  Important."
   "Fuck," Soraya hissed.  "Listen, I need to take this.  It's my mother."
Soraya left the line to the bar and stepped outside the club.  "Yes?"
   "Come home."
   "I'm in the middle of something.  Can it wait?"
   "Soraya, please.  We need to talk.  I would not do this unless it was
important."
   "Are you dying?" Soraya rolled her eyes and stared through the open
door. When her mother didn't answer immediately her attention returned to
the call.  "I'll be there in ten minutes."
   Ten minutes didn't allow for her to get back into the club, push her way
through the crowd, kiss him until her jaw went numb.
   It's just her libido.  Soraya stomped her way to the car.
   Soraya's fury died when she got into the house.
   Her mother's eyes were puffy from crying.  Amira looked more thin and
ragged than she remembered.  The glass beads she typically wore on her
wrists were on the table along with some charred wood chips she seemed to
hold in high regard.
   Soraya didn't like those wood chips.  Silly and useless as they seemed,
whenever her mother had been messing with them, she learned far more than
she should.  "What is it?"
   "Have a seat.  I need to talk to you."
   Soraya edged over to the couch, her heart started to race just as it did
when she was a little girl.  Her mother and those damned chips.  She wasn't
a little girl, so why was she so afraid?
   "Mom, I haven't done anything wrong.  I was just out at a party.  I even
had some good news for you!  TEC is hiring me permanently, and I can get
that apartment near their office.  After a few years I'll have enough saved
away and we can get a house if you want.  I'll be able to take care of you.
Once I have a stable job I can start seriously looking for a husband, and
you'll be right there to meet and approve of him and everything."
   Soraya wiped her sweating palms on her dress.  Palms that not too long
ago were rubbing up and down the back of a man who was anything but husband
material.  Soraya forced a cheerful grin, but her flood of good news only
seemed to make her mother look worse.
   "You won't need to care for me, baby." Amira gathered the wood chips and
put them back into their box.
   "I want to.  You've taken care of me, and I know I've been a really
bratty child, but I love you mom, and for the amount I'm going to make, it
won't even be a burden."
   "I'm dying Soraya, and you need your family."
   Soraya shook her head, she physically jerked as if she could dodge her
mother's words.  "Don't be so dramatic.  We're all dying from the day we're
born, and I'll have my family.  You'll be a part of it.  I know you're
sick, okay, but you," Soraya huffed and swallowed the lump in her throat.
"You'll be able to see a better physician.  I'll drive you to Marjan if I
have to."
   "Listen."
   Soraya dug her nails into her thigh and clamped down on her bottom lip.
Whatever her mother was about to say she didn't would to hear it, couldn't
bare it.
   "I was born in Kohia.  It's north of here, less than an hour drive."
   Soraya knew exactly where Kohia was.  She'd always wanted to visit, but
each time Amira had an excuse, a conflict, or always took her south
instead.
   "Contact the Araceli house, Zarina, Gemma, or ...  Nigel." Amira put the
beads back on her bracelet and set it down on the table.  "Make sure you
have this with you."
   Soraya frowned at the bracelet.  Why would she have that?  She wasn't
even allowed to touch it.  "The Araceli house?  I read about them.  They
are ...  wow.  They're like one of the major ruling families in this
region. Why would you ...  why are you bringing them up?  That's not the
kind of family I'm trying to start." Soraya tried to laugh but it came out
more like a cough.
   "You need them.  You're going to take the elements." Amira pointed a
trembling hand to the box that contained her scorched chips.  "I've seen
it. The spirits say it's time.  House Araceli was my house and it will be
yours."
   Soraya's head swung back and forth, her braids fanned out with each
swing.  No.  No.  No.  "You're not making sense.  House Araceli?  Was? 
What the fuck, mom, we have a family?"
   "You will; I once did.  A long time ago, I did something wrong and
shamed them.  That's not your burden.  It was mine, my error and my fault.
Okay?  I was a terrible daughter, but I tried with my whole soul to be a
good mother.  Please." Amira didn't finish the rest of her plea, she buried
her face in her hands.
   Soraya couldn't keep the outrage.  Watching her mother get so upset and
cry made her worry about her mother's weakened heart.  Soraya knew from
experience that whatever her mother saw in those damned chips was as
accurate as math.  "When ...  did the wood say you were going to die?"
   Amira cracked a smile through her sobbing.  "Very soon, baby girl.  I'm
so sorry.  I wish I had the power to change it, but I spent everything on
you.  I wanted what you wanted, but I can't change it.  You need to go to
the Araceli and get initiated.  Maybe you won't need ten children, but all
that other stuff, perhaps they can give you that.  I am," She paused and to
collect herself, "so sorry, but you need to go soon.  Don't take the job.
Don't get the apartment.  The spirit is too close upon you, my love, and I
won't be here to help you deal with it."
   ***
   When Amira said soon, she meant it.  Days later, she died in the
hospital, a week later, Soraya accepted her mother's ashes and held her
bracelet in her hand.
   'The spirit is close upon you.'
   Soraya had heard the phrase before.  Meara's family were devotees of
Nysidra under the Keres family.  When the spirit was close upon someone
that meant they were no longer destined for a life as a Niralen - those
without religious affiliation.
   As much as she loved the Keres family, they were nothing like the
Araceli.  Powerful, prestigious, famous.  They had festivals so large that
it would shut down the city.  They had a line of Sidra so old that families
up and down the mountain range could trace their beginnings back to them.
   Soraya grinned to herself.  She didn't just have a family, she had one
of the best in the world.  "Whatever you did to fuck that up, I'm not going
to repeat it," she whispered to her mother's ashes.
   ***
   Soraya took several trips to Kohia.  She never stopped anywhere, always
just drove through, thinking about the Araceli family, all around her, some
where.  Kohia was a beautiful city, all green and blue with its forests and
streams coming in from the Peyton Mountain Range.  The sheer amount of
parks and natural areas within and surrounding the cozy city staggered
Soraya.  By comparison, Marjan was a sprawling behemoth of a city.  Peyton,
where she'd grown up and gone to school, was nestled right at the base of
the mountain range it was named for.  It was mostly a stop off city for
people going into the mountains, or coming down out of them in the winter.
When Soraya finally worked up the nerve to contact one of the people her
mother mentioned, she found the number for Zarina Araceli.
   "Hello?"
   "Zarina?"
   "Speaking.  How can I help you?"
   "Um ...  we don't know each other, but my name is Soraya.  I think you
knew my mother, Amira.  She told me to call you."
   "Yes, I knew her, but I haven't seen or heard from Amira in a few
decades now.  What is this about?"
   "I don't know.  She just told me to find you.  Well, she said it had
something to do with some spirit, but..."
   "Let me speak to Amira if you don't mind."
   "She died a few weeks ago."
   "Oh, honey.  Seriously?"
   "Yes, Madam."
   Zarina chuckled.  "Please, not with the madam.  Let's meet.  How
familiar are you with Kohia?"
   "I know the major intersections pretty well."
   "Meet me at the Traveler's Lounge, tomorrow at noon.  It's on Park and
Caraway.  Okay, darling?"
   "Yes, ah, see you then."
   ***
   Soraya sat in the Lounge, nervously inspecting every woman who walked in
the door.  Was that her?  What would she look like?  How would they
recognize each other?  Those were all details Soraya forgot to get from
their conversation.
   Not that she had to worry, the moment Zarina entered, she recognized
her. Jet black hair, sandy brown skin, tall, beautiful.
   She looked like she could have been Soraya's mother.
   Zarina sat down at the table across from her with the same wide-eyed
wonder.  "Lorelia," she exclaimed breathlessly.
   Lorelia was an element of Nysidra, the energy encapsulated in beauty and
wonder.  Like looking up and seeing a brilliant rainbow perfect in its
position and brilliance.  Amira had been fond of exclaiming much of the
same whenever something surprised her.
   "Hi, Zarina?"
   "Yes, girl, and you are Soraya."
   "Are we related?" Her eyes were also green, but not as bright as
Soraya's.
   "Your mother was Araceli and so am I, so yes."
   "But do you know who my father is?"
   "I have no idea.  Might be kin to me, might not.  Dark skin and hair and
green eyes run strong around here.  What did Amira tell you about us?"
   Soraya shook her head.  "Nothing.  I only learned she had a family a few
weeks ago.  She took these wood chips out and said that I needed to find
you.  Before that, I was an only child.  I grew up in Peyton.  Amira never
dated or married.  She was a pretty strict mother," Soraya chuckled, "but
she was kind."
   "Amira?  Strict?  Alone?" Zarina furrowed her brow.  "I'm not sure we're
talking about the same person."
   Soraya reached into her purse and pulled out her mother's bracelet.  She
was never supposed to wear it herself, but if anyone doubted, she was
supposed to show it.
   "People change," Zarina stared at the bracelet and looked back to
Soraya. "Are you free this evening?  I'd like to have you over for dinner."
   "Yes.  What time?"
   "Five." Zarina took out a pen and began to write her address down along
with directions.  "She told you to look for me?"
   "Or Gemma or Nigel.  Yours was the first number I found."
   "Amira and I came up together.  I didn't even get to say good bye before
she left.  I'm glad she told you about us.  See you this evening, okay?"
   ***
   Zarina's house wasn't hard to find, the instructions were clear and the
colorful three story house stood out among the others in the neighborhood.
Other houses were just as brilliant, some of them painted in vibrant reds
or blues, others with green and yellow.
   She pulled up to the sky blue house with its bold orange trim.
   A teen aged boy with pale skin and curly brown hair opened the door.
   "Hi, I'm here to see Zarina."
   He ushered her inside.  "Soraya, right?  My name is Callum, and," they
turned the corner in a large dining room.  "This is my sister Cailin."
   Cailin must have been his twin because she was a mirror image of him
with the same brown hair and pale skin.  "Have a seat here," Zarina came in
holding a serving dish high over head.  She pointed to the seat near the
head of the table.  "Cailin, get her a glass of water."
   "Yes, Madam."
   Zarina rolled her eyes as she set the dish on the table.  She then went
over and kissed Soraya's on the cheek.  "Glad you could make it, honey."
   "You didn't have to do all this," said Soraya.
   The table chuckled.
   "All this?  This is dinner, honey.  That's how it happens every night."
   Soraya mouthed the word, 'oh,' as her cheeks turned red.
   The chairs filled with people who shared only a passing resemblance at
best, but some of them, like Eric and Julie, didn't appear to have any
genetic similarities.
   "Soraya," Zarina put her hand on her shoulder.  "Come here.  I have
someone I want you to meet."
   Soraya followed Zarina to a room just outside the dining room.  The
handsome man in front of her had bright green eyes, dark hair, and was
tall. Was this her father?
   "This is Sidra Nigel.  Nigel, this is Soraya."
   "You look just like your mother." He hugged her close.
   "Did either of you know my father?"
   They shook their heads.
   "She didn't tell anyone.  Did she say anything to you?"
   "No.  She never mentioned him."
   "Well, no matter, you won't lack for male instruction once you're
family." Zarina turned to Nigel.  "Did you tell Tallula?"
   He nodded.  "Save a seat for her."
   "All right, Soraya, go on back to the table."
   Soraya reentered the dining room to three new faces.
   "Why are we just now hearing from you?  What are you?  Twenty?" said
Cailin.
   "I just learned.  My mother didn't say anything until just before she
died."
   Eric leaned over the table.  "Hold your hands up."
   Soraya put both her palms in the air.
   He frowned and eased back into his chair.  "She kept you a Niralen too?"
   "Amira knew better than that," Zarina walked into the room and put
another dish on the table.  "Amira sent her here to be with her family, the
only family she needs.  Doesn't matter when.  She's here now."
   "Some burnt wood chips told her I should come here.  I'm not sure she
would have said anything otherwise."
   Soraya's statement earned her more giggles around the table.
   Zarina smiled at her and nodded.  "Then she told you exactly when you
needed to know.  I'm glad to know that rambunctious hellion kept to her
faith when she abandoned us."
   Soraya shook her head.  "She was more like a boring workaholic to me."
   "Motherhood brings Jurwa," in a lower voice, Zarina explained, "The
energy that effects change.  Without a family, she had to let that energy
take over."
   "How long did you know my mother?" Soraya's question was drowned by the
echoes of greetings and chairs scraping back as people stood.
   Soraya followed suit as the stately woman entered the room.
   "There's a seat for you here, elder."
   She wore an orange dress streaked with dark green and cream.  She walked
around to her seat, opposite Soraya and smiled.  "Come round here, girl. 
Let me get a better look at you.  Rest of y'all sit."
   Soraya walked around to her side of the table and the large woman
enveloped her in a hug then gave her a very close look over.
   "Soraya, is it?"
   "Yes Madam."
   "Good name.  I'm elder Tallula.  I was your mother's vath before she ran
away.  Do you know why she left?"
   Soraya shook her head.  "She didn't tell me anything."
   She hummed and nodded.  "Then it will forever remain a mystery.  We were
heart broken when she abandoned us, but I'm glad she sent you back.  Go on,
have a seat."
   Conversation was plentiful and people even got up and switched seats to
take turns asking about Soraya and her childhood.
   "Where'd you go to college?" Said one girl with straight brown hair, she
had just moved into Eric's seat.
   "Hazel, damn it," said Eric.
   "I want to talk to her."
   He took her seat with a huff.
   "Peyton University," Amira said.
   "You paid for that?" Richard asked as he licked his spoon.
   "Partially, along with my scholarship."
   "Wow," Richard seemed impressed.
   Hazel said, "We go to the Regional University on a fund paid for by the
family."
   "Oh, wow.  That's nice."
   "Yeah, you have to be super smart for a scholarship.  We'll help you get
a job though."
   "I'm not sure if I'm going to stay here yet."
   Hazel frowned.  "Why not?  You're family."
   "Not exactly."
   Tallula shook her head and looked over to Hazel and Soraya.  "You will
be, and for that, you need to be here."
   "I guess, I'll look for a job here then," Soraya said with a polite
smile.
   "Good.  You've been away for too long." Tallula sat back and returned to
a different conversation.
   The rest of the table offered information about where she could look for
work and who they could introduce her too.  Soraya found it hard to keep up
with all the conversations.  It seemed someone was always talking about
something.
   Soraya wasn't sure whether she was staying, not yet, but it was hard to
counter a table full of twenty people.  She could always explain herself
later, after the rush of meeting her went away.
   Soraya kept trying to play the genetics game, trying to guess who was
related to whom, but outside of Nigel, Hazel, and Zarina and the twins,
they could have easily been a corporation of close people.  It was just
like she heard, the Araceli were a massive family.
   Talk regarding relations heavily favored the family houses and the Oani
that a Sidra served under.  Blood kinships, except when it came to very
young children, never entered into the conversation.
   Dinner ended and some of the others moved into another room, the
teenagers and younger adults surrounded Soraya and kept throwing question
after question at her.
   People drifted in and out of the house, dropping by to meet her and ask
her a few questions, before moving on.
   This happened every night?
   ***
   Tallula talked to Nigel while Zarina had Soraya distracted.  Tallula
pointed a jeweled finger at Nigel.  "If she asks questions, you provide an
answer.  Whatever you need to say."
   "Elder, I didn't know Amira like that.  She was plenty flirtatious, but
it wasn't me, and I know it wasn't my brother."
   "I didn't say shit to you about who it was.  I'm saying that if she goes
looking, I want her to find you.  Make up whatever excuse you want, but I
don't want that girl digging, understood?"
   "Yes, elder."
   "You help her get settled, be a brother to the girl if you can't pull
off the father role.  Zarina will take her on as a vand."
   "She's going to move in here?  I thought Zarina just met her today."
   Tallula nodded.  "Need to keep an eye on her, see what's changed and
what hasn't.  Zarina was too young to know what was going on then.  She'll
be a good vath to that girl."
   Nigel nodded.  "Does Zarina know she's taking her on?"
   Tallula waved Zarina over, but glanced at him.  "She will in a minute."
Tallula turned back to Zarina.  "Take her on, bring her into the house,
keep an eye on her.  If you learn anything that makes you suspicious, tell
me."
   Zarina grinned broadly.  "I know how to mentor, elder.  I've been doing
this a while.  Thank you for letting me take her on."
   Tallula pat her on the shoulder.  "And with me reminding you, you'll
never forget.  That's my place." Tallula shrugged on her shawl.  "I need to
get back before it gets too dark.  You all have fun.  Make her feel
welcome."
   ***
   "Can I get you something else to drink?" Richard asked.
   Soraya smiled and shook her head.  "No.  I need to ease up.  I have a
long drive back home."
   "What?  No!" said Hazel.
   "Exactly," Zarina chimed in.  "You can stay here for the night.  Go
ahead, get her another drink.  Relax.  You're home now."
   "Can she stay in my room?" Hazel asked.
   "She doesn't want to sleep in that pig sty you call a room."
   "I cleaned up!  I mean, I will." Hazel turned her pleading eyes to
Soraya.  "You'll love it.  We like the same music, and I painted my
ceiling."
   "Sure." It was just one night, after all.  Soraya didn't care where she
slept.
   "No fair," Eric pouted.  "I could have offered her my room."
   "Snooze you lose," Hazel said and stuck her tongue out.
   Later in the evening, Soraya climbed the flight of stairs with Hazel
toward her bedroom.  The room was messy, but no where near a pig sty.  The
bed was half made and clothes lay strewn about the room.
   Hazel rushed around cleaning up.  "I don't use this side.  There's
plenty of room for you here.  You'll love it here.  When you bring your
things, maybe we could practice together."
   "Maybe.  I'll be fine.  All I need is a bed." Soraya yawned.  "See you
in the morning."
   "See you in the morning," Hazel made a high pitched giggle as she
pounced on her bed.
   ***
   Smells of a banquet sized breakfast woke Soraya the next morning.  That
and the creak of floor boards, running showers, the rich scent of coffee.
Soraya turned over in bed.  Hazel sat up grinning at her.  "I have some
clothes that might fit you if you want a shower."
   "I'm just going to head out.  I'll be fine."
   Hazel shook her head with wide eyes.  "She's not going to let you leave
without breakfast and people are going to want to hug and kiss you all over
again."
   Soraya grinned.  This was almost what she imagined being in a house full
of people would be like.  People who would look after her, care, feed her.
"Let's see what you've got."
   Hazel jumped to her feet with a squeal.  "Okay, I picked out a few
options while you were still asleep."
   ***
   "I can't believe Amira didn't say anything." Adrienne poured cream into
her coffee and sat beside Shelly.
   Shelly shook her head.  "I'm relieved.  No need, if she wasn't coming
back."
   "Who do you think the father is?"
   "You know her vath was Talus, right?"
   "Don't go there.  Talus would never," said Zarina.
   "She's right," said Shelly.  "He wouldn't.  He was harder on her than
anyone else.  She gave him such grief."
   Adrienne shrugged.  "One of his boys?  Maybe that's why he was so mean
with her."
   "What would you know?  We were all children back then." Zarina snapped
her fingers twice.
   The women looked up from their breakfast plates as Hazel led Soraya into
the room.  "Look, I dressed her up."
   "I see that." Zarina grinned and mouthed the word 'sorry' to Soraya. 
"Soraya, this is Adrienne and Shelly."
   "Hello Soraya," the women greeted in unison.
   "Sorry I couldn't make it to dinner last night," Adrienne wiped her
hands and walked over to hug Soraya.  "I had temple duty." She turned to
Zarina.  "Is she going to get her bracelet with the others?"
   "Yeah, she'll be an easy study.  Last night she said she put herself
through university on a scholarship." Zarina set two plates of breakfast
down side by side and pointed to Soraya and Hazel expectantly.
   "Awesome," Hazel put her arm around Soraya's waist and kissed her cheek.
   "What?" Soraya sat down before her breakfast.  "What am I doing?"
   "We're going to get our bracelets together.  We'll be sisters!  Well,
not really.  Zarina's my mom, but Sidra Richard is my vath."
   "You look nothing like her."
   Hazel shrugged.  "Well, my birth mother died after I was born.  Zarina
chose me as her own.  She can't be my vath and my chosen mother though."
She packed more breakfast into her mouth and grinned.
   "When are you moving in?" Andrienne asked.
   "I'm ...  ah." Soraya coughed around her first attempt at food.  "I
haven't--"
   "Nigel will be by with the truck in an hour, so they may not be back
till this afternoon.  Make sure your boys get here.  I'm not setting a
place for any male that doesn't help out."
   They couldn't have been discussing her.  She never said she was moving
in.  Maybe there was someone else at the table.
   "You all are taking her too fast," Shelly winked from over her tea. 
"Amira probably brought you up an only child.  That must have been so
lonely."
   Soraya nodded.  "It was, actually, I always wanted a family."
   "Because you were born into it," Zarina rushed to the back door.  "Eric!
Don't think I ain't see you." He must have said something back because she
yelled back, "You better!  Boy always thinks he's so sly.  Anyway, you are
destined to be Araceli.  So, you're going to leave here and get your
things. I have plenty of room in my house.  No need to pay me rent until
you get established.  Best place for you is with family."
   ***
   Nigel pulled around with the moving truck right on time.  He drove and
she gave directions.
   Soraya talked to him along the drive.  It was a bit disconcerting how
much he looked like her and how handsome he was.  She estimated his age to
be a little bit older than her mother, so he could possibly be her father,
but that wouldn't be something he'd hide, would he?
   How else could she bring shame to her family?
   "Ready to run screaming yet?"
   Soraya laughed.  "Not yet.  Everyone has been so kind, almost
aggressively friendly.  I've been so nervous thinking about when and how to
contact anyone.  I don't know what happened with my mother, but I was
afraid people would think badly of me because of it."
   "No way.  We don't even know why she left or that she was pregnant! 
Listen, I want to be honest with you, okay?"
   "Sure."
   "I am not your father.  I'm old enough to be.  Your mother and I were
friends, but I didn't sleep with her.  Amira liked to put up a big front
about being sexually open, but I don't think she was.  Anyway, I've been
instructed, in so many words, to take you on as my chosen daughter.  I have
a problem with that."
   Soraya nodded.  "It's okay.  I understand.  I never imagined I'd know
who my father was, and I don't plan to try digging him up."
   "That will put a lot of minds to rest, but that's not why I have a
problem."
   Soraya waited for his answer.
   "You are way too hot for me to willingly put you in the 'off limits'
category."
   Soraya giggled until she couldn't catch her breath.  At some point, she
realized her laughter could come across as rude and she struggled to
compose herself.
   "I was thinking the same thing.  I mean," she gasped and wiped her eyes.
"In the father category, but wow, there are so many attractive people in
Araceli."
   "You're not wrong.  You have to be at the top of that list though."
   Soraya blushed.  "Thank you.  You've very easy on the eyes yourself."
   The sexual tension was set aside by the packing and moving of Soraya's
small apartment.  She didn't have much.  She'd spent the past three years
in a tiny dorm and before that tiny apartments with her mother.  Her things
only took up half the van.
   "I packed these boxes for the community store.  Mostly Amira's clothes
and such."
   "We have a community depot in Kohia.  I know they'll go to a good
place." Nigel peeled off his shirt revealed his taunt muscle.  He was lean,
a bit skinnier than she typically liked, but certainly on the fit part of
the spectrum.
   Soraya was staring, and though she lowered her head, she couldn't really
stop.  She had no idea men could stay so good looking in their 40s.  She'd
assumed they all went round and flabby some point past 30.
   "I may never get the chance to do this, so I want to know if I can kiss
you."
   No.  Soraya's chest rose and fell.  She could feel the heat coming off
him.  Up and down several flights of stairs, an hour drive all to help her
move.  Ever so slightly she shook her head.  No.  Wrong.  Bad.
   "Fair enough.  I'm glad I asked." He winked and walked over to the sink
and splashed water on his face.  "Give me a few minutes and I'll be ready
to head out."
   "Okay, I'm going to go drop this key off to my manager." Soraya paused
at the door.  "Nigel."
   "Yes?"
   "I'd prefer it if you put me in that daughter box.  Even if you're
pretending, it would be nice."
   "Consider it done.  Sexiest daughter ever."
   Soraya left the empty apartment with a warm laugh.
   ***
   There were so many people at Zarina's house to help unload the truck
that all Soraya had to do was direct traffic.  The promise of food must
have been a strong motivator.  Only half the people there had to make a
second trip down.
   "All right, all right.  Fixings are set up on the table.  Go eat!"
Zarina cleared the hallway and stairs with that statement.  Zarina shook
her head as she walked into the room.  "You sure this will work for you?  I
have an empty room downstairs you could use.  Let me know before they get
full and lazy."
   "No.  Hazel really seems to want a room mate, and I enjoy having someone
around.  Keeps me from thinking about my mom."
   Zarina nodded and pulled her into a hug.  "We can't replace her and we
won't try, but we can try and fill that family sized void in your heart."
   Soraya squeezed her back as tears ran down her cheeks.  After last night
and breakfast and getting moved in - her experience mirrored everything she
wanted from a large family, the unity, pulling together.  She had only been
here a day, but Soraya wanted to stay with them forever.
   The only thing that marked them as family was a gold and silver bracelet
on their wrists.
   Zarina, Nigel, and Tallula had visible beads on their bracelets.  Others
kept their beads covered in a colored strip of cloth.  Soraya wanted that
bracelet.  She wanted to be with them, to have the family that had been
stolen from her.
   "Thank you so much for letting me stay here."
   "Of course, darling.  This is your home now.  So I want you to take your
time and relax.  Don't worry about dinner.  There won't be anything left
when they're done, but don't fret.  I have something set aside for when
they clear out." Zarina stepped back from her and kissed her on each of her
cheeks.
   ***
   Soraya woke early in the morning to check out the local paper and
bulletin boards for job opportunities.  Kohia wasn't exactly a financial
hub, but she was putting together a decent list of companies that she
wanted to visit.  Every morning this week this had been her pre-dawn
ritual.
   There was no way she could jam with her guitar in this place, but Zarina
had a massive backyard.  When she secured a job then perhaps she'd get out
there and scout a good place to practice in peace.
   "Hey there early bird," Richard whispered.  As best Soraya could tell,
Richard wasn't a Sidra, but he was related genetically to some of the
people in the house.  When ever there was something broken, heavy, or
creaking, then Richard was the first one on the scene.  He set a cup of
steaming black tea down beside her.  The beads on his bracelet were covered
by a strip of yellow-green cloth.
   "Thank you."
   With a pat to her shoulder he moved on.
   The house woke with the sun.  Toilets flushed, showers turned on, music
began to play, alarms blared.  Cabinets clattered, dishes rattled,
sniffles, coughs, and muted conversation flowed from every corner of the
house.  Soraya enjoyed being awake early, baring witness to Zarina's house
come alive, fill with energy.  She'd yet to spend a weekend with the
family, but she got the sense it was never a dull moment.
   "Soraya?" Zarina called.
   "In here," Soraya looked around.  She didn't know where here was
exactly, but it had lots of desks, cords, and personal computers.  "With
the computers."
   Zarina walked into the room with a phone to her ear.  She pulled it away
and pushed a button.  "I have Mister Hugh on the line with Sky Management.
He's going to schedule an interview with you." Zarina pushed the button
again.  "All right, here she is," Zarina handed off the phone and went back
into the kitchen.
   "Hello?" Soraya said.
   "I've heard great things about you young lady.  I have some time this
afternoon to talk with you about your qualifications.  When would be a good
time?"
   "Um, one o' clock?"
   "Great.  I'll see you then."
   "What position do you have open?"
   "We're a software management company.  I'll fill you in when you get
here.  Don't stress it.  I'd just like to meet you and tell you a bit about
the company."
   "All right."
   "Zarina has the location of our office.  Look forward to seeing you."
   ***
   Soraya walked up the stairs to the second floor of the building.  Her
interview would be in ten minutes, but she wasn't too nervous.  She didn't
even know this company or really want the position.  The job she was
actually nervous about was with an international company with a satellite
office downtown.
   Mister Hugo was a huge man, round, with a salt and pepper beard.  "Madam
Soraya, come in and have a seat." They talked about her education, why she
applied for the job.
   "My mother recently passed, so I left my position in Peyton.  I have
family here I'm reconnecting with.  To be honest, I've never heard of your
company before Zarina handed me the phone."
   Hugo nodded with a gleam in his eye.  "We are a small business, but we
do well for ourselves.  I have a few projects I could bring you in on.  I'd
really like to have you on the team.  I know with your education you'll be
great with our cost projections.  How soon are you able to start?"
   Soraya blinked.  Start?  She wasn't even sure she wanted to work with
him.  "I'd need to hear about compensation first." No reason to bite the
hand just yet, she could always turn it down at the benefits and pay
negotiations.  "Of course.  What were you making before you left your old
job?"
   Soraya quoted the amount she made at her internship.  It crossed her
mind to mention the raise, but she didn't want to be greedy.
   "That's great.  I can offer an extra two thousand per year.  How does
that sound?"
   The negotiation began in earnest.  Soraya didn't expect to be taking it
so seriously, and before she realized what was happening she was signing a
contract to start in a few days.
   Soraya went back to Zarina's house in a daze.  She didn't truly want
that job, but he had the contract already in hand?  Who did that?
   ***
   "How did it go?" Zarina wiped her hands on her apron.
   "Well, it was a weird interview.  It was like he--"
   Someone entered the kitchen and said, "Zarina, Morathi said he'll catch
up with you at the temple house this evening."
   "Fine by me.  Richard can serve dinner tonight."
   "As long as I don't have to prepare it," Richard said from some place in
the house.
   Other people journeyed into the kitchen, said a word or two to Zarina
and then headed out.
   "Did you accept the offer?" Zarina asked.
   "I did, but I wanted to look around first."
   "That software management company handled Charles' migration last year.
They've been doing pretty well so far.  I haven't heard any complaints."
   "Isn't that the same place Marcus ended up?" The woman entered the
kitchen and set down a woven bag of vegetables.  "Take what you need, but
go easy on the pears.  Nick wants to make a sauce."
   "I think so," Zarina dug around the bag.
   The woman turned to Soraya.  "Hey.  I'm Margaret.  I run the the
community market down town.  Did you meet anyone named Marcus?"
   "She's going to take the bracelet with Hazel," Zarina pulled out a
bundle of greens.
   Soraya shook her head.  "I only ever met the guy who interviewed me."
   "How is Marcus anyway?  I haven't heard a word from him."
   "He's fine.  Probably keeping his head tucked in.  I've talked to his
sister though.  The children have been great.  The oldest one plays
volleyball professionally."
   "I'm glad he landed on his feet.  I kinda like him.  He was a bit odd,
but I liked him.  He had a kind spirit."
   Richard journeyed into the kitchen.  "Hey, now that you've got a job are
you still going to be up with the chickens?"
   "Hopefully she'll learn to sleep in like everyone else when she doesn't
have to work." Zarina and Margaret shared a laugh.
   Soraya let them have their fun.  It was a job with a company close by.
While her education and internship had her on the road toward a better
career, at least this was a great location in a convenient area of town. 
She shouldn't complain when they clearly did her a favor.
   ***
   Soraya sat in a steaming hot shallow pool of water with Hazel,
Christopher, and Amanda.  They were all nude as Zarina and Anton, two
Sidra, wiped their bodies down with an abrasive glove.
   Elder Irma, a woman in her sixties, talked while Soraya's skin was
scrubbed raw along with her future siblings.  "All are born Niralen,
without connection to the spirit world of Virdani.  A great many die a
Niralen, never being called to greater service or desiring a connection to
the Pasebs.  Tomorrow, you will walk a different path.  I call down the
energy of Gissy to purify you of your Niralen state, to wash away the
barrier between you and the Pasebs.  Today you become family, joining under
the house Araceli in fellowship, service, and study as a devotee."
   Irma's steady, almost song-like words kept her from thinking too hard
about her nudity, or that the fact people she'd only met a few months
before were now bathing her as if she were a toddler.
   "Be you aethers and manifest the essence of encompassing silence.  Be
you winds and manifest the essence of rampant chaos.  Be you infernos and
manifest the essence of blossoming creativity.  Be you depths and manifest
the essence of inspiring beauty.  Be you mountains and manifest the essence
of steady creation.  Be you void and manifest the essence of passing time.
Be as the primal spirit Ymnyzy and bind that which you are bound by.  Do
you swear to serve the Oani of Ymnyzy should you be called?"
   "I do," Soraya answered in concert with Amanda, Hazel, and Christopher.
   "Roar you aethers and manifest the essence of fresh innocence.  Roar you
winds and manifest the essence of uncompromising scrutiny.  Roar you
infernos and manifest the essence of evolving technology.  Roar you depths
and manifest the essence of joyous laughter.  Roar you mountains and
manifest the essence of shaping intellect.  Roar you void and manifest the
essence of rewarding pride.  Roar forth as the primal Air and bind that
which you are bound by.  Do you swear to serve the Oani of Atraya should
you be called?"
   "I do."
   They were all out of the herbal bath.  Zarina and Anton donned yellow
absorptive gloves and began to sweep their body.
   "Enflame you aethers and manifest the essence of the empassioned soul.
Enflame you winds and manifest the essence of the rising will.  Enflame you
depths and manifest the essence of driving obsession.  Enflame you
mountains and manifest the essence of burning lust.  Enflame you void and
manifest the essence of the fanatic zealotry.  Roar forth as primal fire
and bind that which you are bound by.  Do you swear to serve the Oani of
Extreje should you be called?"
   "I do."
   "Surge you aethers and manifest the essence of unfolded intuition. 
Surge you winds and manifest the essence of hungering exploration.  Surge
you infernos and manifest the essence of boundless visualization.  Surge
you depths and manifest the essence of web-spun empathy.  Surge you
mountains and manifest the essence burdened depression.  Surge you void and
manifest the essence of unveiling drama.  Surge forth as the primal water
and bind that which you are bound by.  Do you swear to serve the Oani of
Ishili should you be called?"
   "I do."
   All four of them stepped into a pair of black shorts and a black fitted
top.  With gloved hands their skin was covered with a fine sheen of
moisturizer, head to toe, back and front.
   "Rumble you aethers and manifest the essence of nuclear change.  Rumble
you winds and manifest the essence of wakeful chance.  Rumble you infernos
and manifest the essence of knowing power.  Rumble you depths and manifest
the essence of viral growth.  Rumble you mountains and manifest the essence
of enduring stability.  Rumble you void and manifest the essence of
necessary toil.  Rumble forth as the primal soils and bind that which you
are bound by.  Do you swear to serve the Oani of Oktodo should you be
called?"
   "I do."
   "Sunder you aethers and render the venoms of compressed dissension. 
Sunder you winds and render the venoms of honeyed deception.  Sunder you
infernos and render the venoms of seething fury.  Sunder you depths and
render the venoms of sensory illusion.  Sunder you mountains and render the
venoms of shackling addiction.  Sunder you void and render the venoms of
hungering disease.  Be as the primal null and annihilate that which you are
annihilated by.  May the spirits of the Oani guide and protect you should
Ustufu call you to serve."
   That was usual.  Soraya mumbled that she would serve Ustufu if she was
called, the same as any other Oani.
   Zarina and Anton led them up the basement stairs out into the massive
back yard.  The moment the door opened, music and song surrounded them.
   Rhythm swept over the crowd, the cadence and beat seemed like a living
thing, swirling through the crowd.  Bright and colorful costumes were the
first to catch her eye.
   Nigel approached her and draped a red sash over her shoulder.  Cailin
tossed a cup full of blue paint on her belly.  Callum put a lavender flower
in her hair.  One by one everyone walked up to them and draped them in
color, fabric, smells, and paint.  She passed through the gauntlet and soon
the black shorts and top disappeared under the decorations and adornments.
At the other end of the yard Soraya lined up with the other three.
   "From this day forward you are family: Amanda Araceli, Christopher
Araceli, Hazel Araceli, Soraya Araceli.  You are henceforth devotees of
Nysidra.  Now you will wear the circle of your family as presented by your
vath."
   Zarina put on Soraya's bracelet.  "I will be your vath from this day
forward, advising you on the path toward forming a relationship with the
spirits of Nysidra." She clasped the bracelet and kissed Soraya on each of
her cheeks.  "Welcome to the family."
   Music and dance began again.  Soraya soon learned the words and sang
along, dancing and swaying along with the others.  She was with her family,
larger and stronger than she could comprehend.  Araceli was beloved the
world over, famous and welcoming her from the moment she arrived.
   Whatever her mother had done to earn her eviction, Soraya wasn't going
to repeat that mistake.  She was going to be better than her mother, make
sure that she dedicated herself to her new future and new family.
   The song and dance continued well in to the evening.  By nightfall they
gathered around the table filled with food, still singing.  People took
turns dancing, playing instruments.  People came up to her and took her
hand, danced with her, either slow or fast, close or distance.
   One particular partner, Darius, held her close to his body.  They eased
away from the main crowd.
   "Where did you appear from sister?"
   She chuckled.  "I recently moved here."
   "A ray of dazzling light, you are.  You doing anything special
tomorrow?"
   Soraya didn't get to answer his question.  Hazel bounced over and pulled
Soraya into a dervish.
   <->
   Epilogue: Nysidra is a system of divination I created.  In this story, I
used it to replace a system of religious devotion that I'd probably
consider if it weren't for its insular, messy, corrupt nature.  Some people
need the scaffolding, others choose more direct contact.  I go skin to skin
with my demons.
Written: November 2013
"My sexual interests are like my eating habits.  I'll try anything once,
twice, if you prepare it differently." -Bianca Lee
   Contact: nysidra at hot mail dot com
  
Priestess_01