Amor’s mind slowly drifted out of blood-soaked dreams and his eyelids opened to an afternoon sun. He lifted his head to find himself in the middle of an autumn-lit pasture. Cyprus trees and speckled bushes peered out above fields and hedgerows reflecting a thick, golden mist.
His aching head churned with painful throbs. He struggled, trying to recall what could have led him so far from his villa. Chirping cicadas echoed back the emptiness of his mind as he stared at vermilion dirt. Trying to capture any mental image that might help.
The remnants of some intoxicating herb were filling his mind with clouds and the aftertaste of wine lined his mouth. A party no doubt but with whom? And where? More cicadas answered him but they offered no hints.
He was certainly dressed for a party. A velvet inlay tunic was no kind of clothing to be out in this country alone. His billowing trousers were already covered in sweat and wine. He didn’t remember buying the outfit, was it even his?
Why would the oracle have led him here? This must be her doing, none of his drunken charades in the past had caused him to wake up miles from home in the countryside. Everything he did was for her after all, even if it did involve a little indulgence.
He frowned. His clothes were indeed princely, but his boots were rider's boots, and his tunic showed signs of a struggle, even tearing. A dance? Or had a fight broken out?
He stared at his own muddy reflection in a brown pool by the path and pink eyes stared back at him. A ghost-like image made its way to the surface of his mind, there were dances and food. Horses… they were riding horses, and… Lorenzo.
Lorenzo?
Suddenly he remembered. Where was Lorenzo? They had been together the entire evening. Dining and enjoying the entertainment, what a time they’d had together. He suddenly laughed at the memory, but where was his friend now?
Images bloomed inside his mind. The hunt… he remembered the hunt and how they had carried so many of them back to the tent. The wild grin on his friend’s face and the joy he’d felt.
The devotee.
Yes, she had been there too... at the feast...
He now shuddered at the images that were unearthed inside him. Images that seemed so real and unreal at the same time.
The devotee had arrived with the festivities already underway. Everything had been joyful up until then, but he remembered a sudden screaming inside his body. A terrible shaking of his arms and legs, he remembered his teeth, his contorted teeth, growing sharper and wider, with blood running from his mouth.
Amor checked them slowly with his tongue but felt no change, they were just his normal teeth that he was used to. He didn’t even taste blood, just wine.
He remembered the sight of pain in Lorenzo’s eyes that had changed into an awful grin. The sudden hatred he had felt for everything around him before a terrible screaming in his ears… He stopped himself from dwelling on the memories. The devotee had been there, he just hoped she’d been able to intervene.
By now he had set off towards the sound of water. A stream was nearby, and with luck, it may lead him back to the villa and to Lorenzo. He remembered water, maybe a lake? He needed to quench his thirst in any case.
A frog joined the chirping chorus around him as he cupped cold water. His delicate stomach aside, he wasn't yet worried about finding food. His birthright would be forfeited the day he lost his way in the Etruscan plains. At least, that’s where he thought he was.
But the landscape seemed strangely unfamiliar. The grassy hills and rocky outcrops were familiar but the air seemed to hang differently here. It was thicker somehow, and even with the wildlife, strangely quiet, without the usual animating breeze.
His thirst satisfied he began to plod onward past the bushes and dirt towards the distant peaks. The rolling hills soon disappeared beneath his feet to reveal a drop of rocky slopes amid a small valley. Soon he was grateful for his rider’s boots as he stumbled over broken rock.
The memories of his journey were slowly solidifying in his aching mind that pounded with every step. He was certain the oracle had preordained everything but where were the devotees? There were none of their usual signs. Had he let her down in some terrible way? He shuddered at the very thought.
Why couldn't he just remember? Damn this aching head.
The other images he found he could not distinguish between reality and some ecstatic fever dream. He found them simultaneously repulsive and arousing, could they really be his? Faces, landscapes and bodies all drifted through his mind but he couldn’t place them into a logical sequence, the haziness of his memory left him uneasy.
As he walked he discovered the scree slope had now turned to soft wet soil and the ground had flattened. He looked up to find the small valley had given way to dark trees, and a light mist had formed around the river he was following. Looking back he had been in the beginnings of a forest for some time. When had that happened? He cursed himself for not paying more attention to his surroundings.
Although Amor was not a fearful man, he was well aware of the dangers of being stranded in the wild at night. Even in the serene landscape he called his home he did not relish spending the night in the woods by himself. Years of drinking and debauchery had left his hunting skills rather minimal. What was the point of servants if they didn’t set out to find their master when he went missing? He would have them all flogged when he returned. Even the cooks and cleaners.
Whatever had happened last night was not normal, he felt it inside somehow. The herbs and delicacies had accompanied the feast and girls that he and Lorenzo had been enjoying. But the devotee…
Other memories had now surfaced within him. So many women he had known now seemed to haunt his imagination. Fiona and Ilaria, Bella and Gabriella. Why did they now seem so recent to him?
Flies buzzed around his head still enjoying the evening mist. Maybe a frog or two would have been worth the effort. He pondered his hunger as the sun began to set and his stomach growled. He was just beginning to feel a breeze and pull his tunic closer around him when he caught sight of a faint disturbance on the horizon.
He squinted, suspicious that his eyes were playing tricks on him and tried to move forwards. It seemed to be some flickering of the light but he couldn’t be sure.
Lorenzo? He thought as he set a brisker pace, trying not to lose sight of the faintly lit slope as he wove between trees. Or perhaps one of the servants from before out to find him? A rock just behind a clearing was reflecting a faint blue light. He was sure of it now, it was no illusion. But what kind of unnatural candlelight was this?
“Who goes there?” He called out to the illuminated slopes.
Nothing answered but the wind and more flickering of that unnatural candlelight. It danced and shimmered with the source just out of sight behind a rocky outcrop. Like a lit fire casting blue light. His heart thumped as he stepped slowly towards the grove that now seemed to him the home of some otherworldly creation. The light seemed to change in intensity of its own accord, becoming brighter and darker within seconds.
He was certain that no housekeeper held that light, and it was with legs ready to sprint that he rounded the corner of the mound. He gasped as the brightness hit his eyes and almost tripped. The sight that met him seemed to belong to some dream that had merged with his waking life.
The light came from a silken translucent robe that moved in the wind but seemed supported by nothing but the air itself. The shape was like a shifting mass of hanging silk, with ripples shining and shifting as if worn by some invisible phantom.
Amor shifted his gaze as he crept towards the light. Trying to glimpse what lay underneath the robes. A burst of air seized his body, paralyzing him. His hand was still outstretched, he could only freeze in place as he felt a sound of pure fire cascade over him.
“Amor”
His own name yet he barely recognised it, the voice held him in terror.
“My Love”
All at once, he knew who spoke. It was her. Tears of sadness ran down his cheeks, how could he have failed to recognise his beloved?
“You have journeyed far to reach here, and much lies behind you.”
The voice of the oracle was like a blade of ice that penetrated his chest.
“Do not speak.”
Her voice turned softer now.
“While you are courageous and strong, there is much that lies before you, and even the best of men cannot bear the toils that stand in your way.”
Yes! The labours! The labours! How could he have forgotten? What a pitiful fool he was, he felt as vulnerable as a newborn kitten before her.
“Temptation is what you will find here.”
The words seemed to come from inside his own skull.
“To pass through you must resist any labour of the flesh that you encounter.”
His mind now turned back to the night before, could she hear his own thoughts?
“Beyond this forest, there is a vast lake. Which you must cross to reach an island. Reach this island and you will find me there, the devotees will help you, my beloved.”
“Come find me.”
And with that, the light faded into darkness and he was released to fall to the ground. Left with nothing but tears to wet his pained eyes.
The labours... The destruction, the labours. All he would do again if his beloved wished it of him.
He held his head in his hands for a moment contemplating the task before him. There was no sign that the light or the robe had ever existed. Nothing remained in front of him except the dark forest.
Reach the island in the centre of the lake? He could swim, but what could await him there? While he was afraid, the encounter had left him with a new sense of purpose that he’d been lacking since he woke. With her words ringing in his ears he felt ready to conquer any obstacle. He felt his determination grow and eyed the misty horizon, climbing to his feet. The clouds were still obscuring his memory but his fear had faded. If he could keep her in his mind he need not fear. Nothing would come between him and his divine.
The sun had fully dropped below the horizon now and it was getting harder for Amor to make out his surroundings. Shriller crickets now sang beyond the forest but the sounds of wildlife were becoming fainter as the mist crept forward. It now surrounded the base of the black pine trees and made it impossible to see the edge of his path. He was forced to follow the trickling sound of water.
While his courage kept him strong his thoughts turned to the possible challenges ahead. ‘labours of the flesh’ she had said, meaning what exactly? He doubted anyone lived out here. The cold and pain of hunger may be part of it, possibly combat? He searched about him for a weapon, even a sharp stick that he could use but the ground was bare of even twigs as he made his way towards the gushing water. His chest was still warm from the afterglow of his beloved’s presence.
And the lake... He would have to make a raft. Some kind of float at least to help him cross. His clothes would weigh him down and he would surely freeze if he abandoned them. Was that what the labour was about?
There was scarcely anything about him to use to build a float or use as a weapon. Curse the earth! if only he knew how to make a fire.
As he stepped over moist soil he noticed the trees begin to thin slightly, and the mist seemed thicker, even denser than before. There was no moon but strangely enough... light to see by.
The spiny branches now departed, and the soil flattened to reveal the shores of a vast glistening lake. So close that Amor could have fallen into it if he wasn’t paying attention.
Although he’d been expecting it his heart still beat fiercely at the sight of the black water. Could this really be it? He could see no sign of the island, how could he be sure where the middle was? The mist still clung to the surface like a carpet of wool.
He scanned the shoreline to find anything that could help him. Even an edge to suggest the distance. She was waiting for him on the island, he would wait until morning if he had to but was that wise? What if she was displeased with him for the lapse in time? No, he would make the effort now if he could while his mood was still high.
He garnered a dark shape in the corner of his eye. He turned his gaze and squinted. Could it be? Amor walked stiffly forward, trying to listen out for anything that might be nearby.
A boat. Lying there on the shore as if it were left there for him. A large rowing boat with oars still inside. It looked polished and new with a varnished hull, it could scarcely have been used by anyone unless someone truly did live here.
‘The devotees will help you’ was this their doing? In his experience, the devotees were usually more direct with their aid. If the boat belonged to someone why would they leave it untethered with oars inside? It must be meant for him he decided.
Whatever the cause he felt relieved that the path to the centre of the lake was open to him. But the closer the goal seemed the more that fear built inside him. Keep her in your mind, he told himself. Just thinking of her kept the fear at bay.
He moved the vessel to the edge and tested its strength on the water. Carefully he climbed inside and sat against the prow, testing his weight. He then pushed against the bank with one oar and felt himself drift, aiming for what he hoped was the centre of the lake.
He frowned. His right leg had touched against the surface and wetted his foot. Expecting cold he was surprised to find that the water was warm. More than warm, as if it had been heated.
Hadn’t the stream earlier been cold?
He started pushing the oars away into the water, slightly unnerved that he had to sit with his back to the centre and tried to turn his head. The water in the lake was smooth and scarcely rippled as the boat cut through it.
His oars moved smoothly in and out of the shining surface, bringing up glistening droplets with each movement. As the shoreline receded the black surface grew all around him, lit only by the faint moonlight. The mist made it difficult to judge any kind of distance and he may have to row the entire breadth of the lake many times before he found the island. He hoped that his strength would carry him through.
The shoreline was gone now. He was surrounded totally by blackness and mist.
Amor focused his gaze to make out a dark shape across the surface that he thought could be land, he saw something flickering across the shore, another light? He was just moving to the edge when he felt a small thud against the side of the boat.
He turned sharply, his rowing interrupted. Expecting that he may have hit upon a rock or possibly a fish. He tried to row in the same direction but felt another thud on the other side of the boat now. Was there something blocking this side of the lake?
Quickly he tried to turn to find another way around. But as he pulled on the shaft of the oar he found it suddenly stuck. He could scarcely move it and he stopped to try to pull it free, thinking it was caught under some rock.
The boat swayed with the effort and he heaved with both hands now on his stuck oar.
A white hand emerged with a splash from the water and grasped at the air near his face. He inhaled with a sucking scream of horror at what he had pulled up from the lake.
A face. A woman’s face now broke through the surface, beautiful and pale. She stared at him with mouth parted and eyes transfixed. He recoiled back into the boat, momentarily stunned by the shock. Trying to use the oar to push himself away.
He splashed water and the boat lurched forwards. He had to get to the island quickly. Had to get away. But now there were more thuds shaking the side of the boat and he couldn’t help himself looking back into the water.
More faces greeted him, with arms outstretched. Beautiful, pristine faces, blonde hair, black hair, red hair, green eyes, blue eyes reflected in the light. All faces of women. As he paddled more hands were outstretched and were trying to grab the side of the boat. Each one had the same serene and playful expression as the first.
The boat was still moving but slower now, the oars colliding with arms or bodies. He squirmed against the prow, willing it to move faster. More crystal white hands now reached over the edge of the boat, reaching for him even as he desperately tried to find a way through.
He peeked over the prow to see that the lake was now filled with even more bodies. Dozens of them were now illuminated by the light. Pushing and swarming over each other like a bed of eels.
The light? He hadn't imagined it. The blue light was real, it must be coming from the island where his beloved was waiting for him. He must get to her. He had to move the boat.
The thought of not seeing her was enough to spur him to action.
Amor realised with dread that the faces were women he recognised. Women that he had known years ago. As he pulled the oars Giacometta gazed up at him with a teasing smile. Sibylla was beckoning to him with fluttering long lashes as water glistened on her wet body. He recognized others, neighbours and daughters of noblemen. Actors and courtesans. Female tutors, he had known as a child, all and every woman he had ever wanted or thought of were now circling his boat.
Their faces he recognized but they were more perfect somehow, their eyes more alluring, their lips more enticing, their hair curving sensually around the shoulders. Their glistening bodies that shone in the light were shapely, with perfectly formed breasts and thighs, riding the ripples in the water as they held the side of his boat.
They seemed to be steering him somewhere, away from the island.
'The devotees will help you', he remembered his beloved's words. Where were the pale-robed bastards when he needed them?
Pairs of glistening hands were now sliding over the boat's edge. Supple limbs appeared to his left and right. Their playful eyes followed his movements as they cornered him.
'Amor' they sang playfully in a broken chorus.
'Come down to us.'
The soft words spread among them like an echo.
'DEVOTED ONES!'
He shrieked into the cold air, not caring how shrill he sounded.
'Sisters, I call on you for aid!'
His eyes darted across the black water, trying to find a way out. Trying to think of anything that could help him.
'I am on a holy mission from the divine one herself! She has called on you to defend me!'
The only answer he received was coos and giggles from the women in the water. He would almost rather have drowned than let anyone discover his pathetic pleas for help. But right now his body was in more immediate danger than his ego.
He felt the boat heave as a figure now reached over the prow and pulled itself completely out of the water. So that now it was inside the boat with him.
He looked the figure in the face. It was Sibylla, slowly crawling towards him on all fours. She smiled up at him and offered her hand as an invitation.
'Amor'
her voice fell like silk.
'I've missed you so much, my love.'
The pouting face now took on a serious look. And she slid her naked body over the beams beside him. Afraid as he was he marvelled at how much she looked like her. He even recognised her dimples.
'Amor,' She called again after he had taken a few steps back towards the edge of the boat.
'I’ve been waiting so long for you.'
She was almost upon him now. She gently reached out and slid her warm hands across his chest and inside his shirt. Her fingers were like delicate beads of warmth against his cold skin.
Amor felt more hands come from behind and touch his arms and back. Sibylla was now busy sliding her legs to stand on either side of him. She was slowly climbing up his body to meet her lips against his. He watched her charcoal eyes close as her perfect face enveloped him.
He took a deep breath. Finally submitting himself to his fate. One of his hands fell against Sibylla's shoulder. But before she could move within a second he had pulled his leg over the prow and fell with a splash into the black water.
His body sank deep down into the depths
Amor felt this new world envelope his senses. He sank deeper and deeper. His thoughts and feelings become numb to the outside.
The water was warm… so pleasantly warm like a bath.
His mouth opened involuntarily, but instead of choking, he felt the black liquid enter him as smoothly as air and fill his lungs. Instead of resisting, he found his body simply floating in this new world, drifting here peacefully.
Swim, he thought.
He must swim.
Must find a way out.
Warm hands closed around his shoulders and he found that his clothes had now drifted gracefully apart from his body. More hands were tearing away his boots and he felt smooth skin rub against his.
He opened his eyes slowly. Instead of blurriness, he found his sight down here was quite clear. The lake did not hurt his eyes at all. Everything around was black, but the dim light still illuminated the bodies in the water. Creatures of such beauty. They were all around him now though he could no longer make out their features.
He felt the lips of one slide over his neck while another's tongue caressed his chest. A third made her way down his stomach. Hands falling down to his thighs. Amor experienced a stirring below as blood flowed and soon a soft embrace closed itself around his growing manhood.
While buried inside the soft chamber his legs and thighs pulsated as pressure moved over his body. He felt the excitement grow inside him but before he could release his energy, the beautiful encapsulation removed itself. He felt legs close around his waist and smooth breasts were squeezed against his chest. Suddenly he was pressed against her and slid effortlessly inside.
While floating in the embrace his mind seemed to move outside of his body in a state of trance. He could think of nothing outside the sensations around him. Tongues licked him as the bodies moved and pressed against him over and over. Mouths and hands caressed his skin. Connecting him to the calmness all around. He was now just an unborn entity, floating in this primordial fluid before the birth canal.
No. A mind that used to be his thought.
His body moved and throbbed as if controlled by puppet strings, even while his will tried to break out.
Escape. I must escape.
His name was Amor. He was not supposed to be here.
He tried to think back to what had brought him to this place.
He felt the blue light through his eyelids.
His beloved.
His eyes opened, and he saw the bodies all around him, silhouetted in the beautiful blue light. Faces he recognised, Bella, Vittoria, and most of all Sibylla with her body joined to his in ways he could not comprehend.
The light. He must reach the light.
Suddenly he was kicking and turning. His foot connected with a body to his right and he was propelled.
All around him he heard wails of despair as he failed in the black depths. His arms moved to part the water and he kicked to get away from the creatures.
He felt hands and teeth grab his legs and shoulders but he ignored them while he forced his way through the darkness. Pain shot through him but he kicked harder and pushed with his arms to swim upwards.
The beams of light grew stronger as he made his way towards it. Ripples told him that the lake floor should be shallowing out. The drift must have carried him some way. He could see the shape of the island through the water. He could reach it in time.
The surface. If he could only reach the surface he could see clearer. Find the source of the light. He turned his body and swam upwards with arms outstretched.
Suddenly hands seized his shoulders and neck and he was pulled backwards. He squirmed and wrestled the new force, and craned his neck backwards to see Sibylla with her hands embedded in him, and her face full of anguish. He saw her as clearly as if they had been floating in the darkened air. So clearly that he couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for her pain.
'I can't' he mouthed. And to his surprise, the words rang out clearly in the black void.
'I'm sorry Sibylla, I can't.' He meant it sincerely, but his heart felt nothing but an urge to be back in the blue light of his beloved.
'Amor' her soft words resounded. 'We can go back to the grove Amor, back to the bed of flowers and vines where we were happy.'
He was shaken by the vivid memory that she had just recalled in him. At that moment he felt the outside world fall away from him.
He grasped her hand but shook his head in sorrow. He didn't want to look at her face any longer. She stared at him mournfully. Other pale forms swam back and forth out of his vision surrounding him.
He turned away without a second glance, and made for the shore, expecting a clawing hand or a scream to follow him.
Instead, he felt nothing.
Amor kicked and swept water to his sides. He needed to escape the blackness. The light of his beloved was now within reach.
His head burst into cold air and his hands groped for something to gain purchase. Finding sand and broken rock he collapsed on an empty shore, and vomited heaps of black bile onto the ground. Tears fell from his face as his eyes stung, trying to readjust to the reality that he had just re-entered.
His blurred vision slowly adjusted until he could make out the shapes of rocks scattered around the island, lit by flickering blue rays.
I've done it. He thought. I've made it through. He looked back at the black lake. There was no sign of the boat, or the pale bodies that inhabited it, and no sign of the shore. All around him was an endless black abyss, cut through by the blue light.
A faint wind broke the stillness of the lake.
But his heart was filled with dread. Because he knew inside that he had failed his mission. He had resisted, hadn't he? He had emerged from the water intact. But the memories of the encounter beneath still pained him. How the creatures beneath had conjoined with him and the pleasure he had taken in it.
Would she know of the betrayal? He was paralysed and defenceless, he was sure that he had not been a willing participant. But what if that itself was the test?
He felt sick after what he'd been through and wanted to weep. Wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all. He had sacrificed, hadn’t he? He had endured pain and torment, the details of which were still unclear but he felt it deep in his heart.
Is that what happened to him last night? Had that been another labour of the flesh that he’d been set as a test? The rage and carnal memories now seemed to make more sense. He was scared of what he may have done in that state.
‘Even the best of men could not bear the toils that stand in your way.’
He remembered her words. And thought about what he would have to become to be worthy of her.
Would she forgive him? Everything he had done was from her command. Even if his spirit failed him it had only ever been through devotion to her. He knew she loved him, he knew it. If only she could see inside his heart. If only he could make her understand. She would see his struggle, she would accept him.
He closed his heart to the torments that now surrounded it and made himself stand upright. He was still fearful of what might await him on the island. The blue light as before seemed to come from within the rock itself. Flickering it cast sharp shadows that moved across the silky banks, and he saw grooves and crevasses embedded in the rock.
He must finish his journey. And he must go soon. To be with her.
His breath had slowed, and his racing mind had been able to collect some coherent thoughts.
When he saw her he would throw himself upon her mercy. Tell her how he had resisted and torn himself away from the creatures below.
How could she not know what he felt inside? She with all her power must surely understand. He would accept any punishment she gave him if that was her wish. Being apart from her was enough torture in itself but if he had failed she only had to show him the way and he would make amends.
His feet now sank into the sand with plodding steps. His heart beat a steady rhythm as he approached what seemed to be a cave entrance. Dark rocks leaned against each other over the rippling sand, and blue light shone out of a crack where two of the larger rocks met.
He was shivering. Almost naked with only a few torn clothes left on him. Better to find somewhere warm. Amor felt certain that as before, the blue light was cast by his beloved. Fearful as he was, his heart ached to be near her again. To hear her beautiful words.
As he walked he wondered what would have become of him if he’d stayed with the creatures of the lake. There had been no males among them as far as he could make out, and though he could breathe and see in the warm fluid, he felt that he would never have left their embrace.
Would she really have let him stay in the lake? He knew she was not a merciful woman. But surely something would have come to his aid. He trembled slightly as the stress of the encounter still lay heavily on him.
Would she be happy to see him? He found himself as giddy as a child as he contemplated standing before her, this time having completed a labour.
It was with that fortitude that he reached the mouth of the crooked cave.
The blue light didn't seem to behave like ordinary light. While the beams in the lake had appeared cast by rays from the moon, there was no light source on the island, in fact, it seemed to flicker as if cast by a fire, and only faintly illuminated the insides walls. Pockets of the light appeared to cast themselves.
He thought about the encounters with his beloved as the ground beneath his feet became harder. He had seen her in many different forms, but each time was still a revelation. Such was her power.
He stopped before the entrance to the cave, transfixed with wonder.
The dark rock appeared scattered with some shimmering crystals which could only be observed up close. It reflected the glimmers that seemed to move and dance inside like the ocean floor. The gnarled rocks were carved with bulbs and twists, hanging from the ceiling and floor. The stone itself seemed to ripple with the pulsating light, slowly breathing.
Amor found himself pulled towards the entrance, following the ripples of the light and the rock. His feet moved before his mind as though he were caught on some invisible fisherman's hook.
The walls of the cave were dotted and formed with centuries of erosion. Bearing scars that even caves of the sea would not endure. The workings of the oracle had long since stopped surprising him. There was a deep solace in accepting her power over him. He felt all his wishes and troubles subside as his body drifted through the crevasse towards his divine one.
The inside of the cave was rough and narrow, but smooth and the clean rocks created a clear path before him. The intensity of the light shifted and waned as he felt his way along the carved walls. Beacons lit his way along the ground like he’d been left a trail to follow. The rhythm of the shimmers as he moved seemed to slow. Becoming more graceful and harmonious.
Their patterns had the effect of easing his mind.
All would be well, he felt. Whatever happened was within her power. His misgivings and doubts all fell away. The rocky passageway was narrowing so that he now had to pull himself through smooth rock.
He felt a breeze move through the air and was sure that he was nearly at the end of the path. The light had faded to the point where it was hard to see by, but a glimmer at the end of the tunnel still guided him. The passage was narrower here and he had to feel his way around corners and through openings. His bare feet pressed against the warm stone.
Memories of his last encounter all came back to him. His heart was once more filled to the brim with passion. Just to be near her again was reward enough.
The new, brighter light was getting closer. He squeezed through crystal outcrops and felt his way through the gaps in the cavern. He could see the light clearly now, the end of the passage was nearly a blaze of light. He forced his body through the walls that pressed against him. Squeezing himself through.
When finally he felt his strength starting to fade, and his will faltering, suddenly an entrance was clear to him and he wriggled his body through to escape the stone jaws.
He collapsed onto a smooth stone floor, totally enveloped by a blinding light that shone just as intensely as it had back in the forest.
“So you have found your way to me.”
He paused and held his head up to see the speaker of the words.
While the light was unmistakable, he knew it was not his beloved who had spoken to him.
“I…” He started. Then realised he had no words to speak.
“You have found your way to me.” The voice repeated, as though that were all that needed to be said.
“Where is she?”
He found his voice this time. Determined at least to understand his situation.
“Where is who?”
He felt he detected a mocking tone in the words. The tone was feminine, but penetrating, and delivered with a sharpness that made it hard for him to collect his thoughts.
The voice felt familiar somehow.
His eyes slowly began to adjust to the light, and a figure came into view. Much taller than he. Much taller than any human, and a face. The flicker of a symmetrical and crystalline face now emerged, with white robes hanging from her body.
A devotee.
'She sent you here?' He suddenly felt foolish. Why would she not have sent a devotee ahead to greet him? They had appeared so often before. Yet never in quite these circumstances.
Silence greeted his question.
The perfect face was unchanging. Merely meeting his gaze with features carved from stone. Her distinctly feminine beauty was marked by a faint smile and sharpness of features that marked her out as something otherworldly.
His heart quickened as he eyed her features. And slowly the familiarity began to dawn on him.
“You.”
The devotee's smile widened almost imperceptibly. Her glassy eyes reflected the shimmers of the cave walls.
“Yes,” she responded simply.
“You were there at the feast.” He stuttered as her presence dawned on him.
More silence met his statement but her eyes continued to watch him sullenly. Her smile continued its imperceptible widening.
Amor's mind raced. He remembered now, almost vividly the events of the feast in the tent up until her arrival.
He recalled how relieved he had been to see a devotee. And the mixture that she had offered him and Lorenzo as a reward for their triumph.
Then the transformation his body had gone through. The agony in his spine, his teeth and eyes twisting and everything around him becoming both terrifying and detestable.
His stomach clenched as the horror of the feast came back to him. The fear in the eyes of the captives as he and Lorenzo had danced in the circle. The frenzy was followed by screams of terror. Terrible screams and blood covering his grey snout. He remembered how he and Lorenzo had rejoiced amid the bloody flesh and howled with delight.
Sweat ran from his brow as he wrestled with the awful memory.
The devotee watched him with her frozen smile the whole while. Just as she had watched him and his friend that night among the captives. As the feast and slaughter were underway. Whispering incantations and words of encouragement.
“Where is Lorenzo?” He demanded. Breaking the long silence that had fallen. He normally would never have dared speak to a devotee as he did now.
Her eyes seemed to change for the first time. A flicker of surprise fell on her face.
“You don't remember your friend?”
Amor faltered.
“I remember us together at the feast. And then you…”
Misty eyes glimmered back.
“He died because of you Amor.”
Amor gaped and clenched his fists from emotion.
“It was you who left him all those years ago after all. Back when he needed you the most.”
What? Was this some trick?
“I'm not surprised you don't remember.” She continued. Suddenly emphatic.
“Because after all Amor, you don't really care about your friends do you? In fact, you care little about anyone at all besides yourself.”
He could do nothing but stand and repeat her words in his head.
“That's all you are in the end, Amor. A vile and pathetic creature who believes his worth comes from his ability to manipulate others.”
Her tone was steady but slowly intensified. And Amor suddenly felt incredibly vulnerable in his near nakedness, trapped inside the cavern.
“You left him there Amor, and you'd do it again. If you saw him at the feast then it is you who put him there and not I. No one can hurt him now.”
“I..” He felt a stinging in his eyes. Lorenzo had been there, he'd seen him. He'd been so happy to see his dearest friend again after everything that had happened between them.
After… Damn it why couldn't he just remember?
“Where is the oracle?” His empty question rang out into the now-blackening air.
The devotee threw back her head and laughed at the sound of a dry storm. And hatred now filled her beautiful face.
“You” she sounded. “Ask about her?”
Her figure seemed to grow inside the cavern, expanding her already towering height.
“You disgusting worm.”
The rage grew.
“To imagine that you would ever even look at her.”
Amor felt his stomach plunge to an impossible depth inside him. He stepped back towards the crevasse in the wall.
The devotee now started. Her hand reached upwards to catch some invisible string. Amor felt the air rush around him and his muscles froze as if enclosed in iron.
His mind screamed at him to run but his bones and body were stone.
“You imagined that she would ever communicate with you? Or lead you here?”
The words cut.
“You thought that these labours would eventually lead you to her? That she would choose someone like you?”
As her arm moved he felt the restraints tighten.
“Everything you thought you heard from her was my doing, Amor. She barely even knows you exist.”
Blood began to drain from his face.
“She would be happy for you to die here like the insect you are. Which is a wish I will soon grant her, but first I will punish you as you do others. Before you die, you will feel your own crimes turned back on you.”
Amor felt the vices on his skin tighten, and bury themselves in his flesh. His jaw ached a silent scream as invisible lice of pain ate through his skin and into his bones.
His limbs and torso began to twist as if pulled by a child moving a rag doll onto a play stage. He was dragged clumsily towards the centre of the light.
The creatures now surrounded him, grinning. The same smirk that had sat on the devotee's face. He heard laughter and clapping of hands as their excitement grew.
One of them stepped forward and prodded him with a finger, laughing hysterically. The others tittered and cooed like children who had stumbled upon a wounded animal.
Others now joined the fray. Prodding and tickling his skin, one after another. His paralysed body still felt every pinch and touch as a burst of sensation.
Their naked bodies glistened in the eerie light. Eyes and teeth shone out to him in the pale crowd. A circle now emerged around him of swaying bodies while he hung suspended from the air.
A figure with bristled hair who he didn’t recognise walked out from the group and surveyed him with the same wicked grin as the others. She slowly swayed her body from side to side in a rhythm, and he felt his own body move in tandem with hers. His muscles now became animated, joining in the terrible dance. The creatures whooped and cheered in delight as they circled him.
The bristled figure now drew in closer and struck him with a hand across the face and his cheek stung. The crowd oohed and aahed at the spectacle.
Others now approached him while his body swayed of its own accord. And he felt more blows to his face and back.
They yipped with joy at the violence.
The bristled one now mounted him while his rigid body twisted to meet her gaze, and others held her in place while he was used and enjoyed. Gasps of excitement surrounded him.
His facial muscles were twisted until he found his cheek muscles pulled upwards until he wore the same sickening grin that was reflected by the pale faces all around.
Bristles suddenly leaned forwards towards his face with her legs still closed around his midriff. Her teeth bit deep into his shoulder and blood poured from the wound, wetting his neck and chest.
The grin on his face remained in place.
Others joined in the delight. Clean white teeth now sunk into his flesh from all sides. And his blood wetted the floor of the cavern.
But they were not yet finished.
The rest were ushered back by a gesture from the devotee so the biting stopped momentarily. Now several more stepped forward and joined in the enclosing circle. His body twisted to the rhythm of his demonic dance partners. They held him in place needlessly while he was used by both men and women.
The whole crowd was upon him now, pulling at his hair, clawing at his skin. Wetting their faces in his blood. The whole time the laughter and cheering resounded in his ears. The same faces he had seen. Sibylla's eyes followed him gleefully from the crowd. Olimpia watched him with red smeared on her cheeks.
Amor could still see the devotee standing above the rest. The contempt on her face never wavered an inch.
In the end the blows and tearing blurred into one singular rapture of pain. He entered a kind of trance, accepting everything that was happening. The pain was now part of him, he was a rapturous spirit incarnated by it. It was nothing less than he deserved. What he had earned.
He thought of all the people he had failed in his life. He thought of Lorenzo lying in the dirt in Ravenna, crows circling his body with no one to bury him.
I will join you soon my friend, he thought.
Bodies and shadows all blurred together into one. He felt his breath slow and the cold settled inside him.
His mind finally turned back towards his beloved, and how he wished he could have been good enough to be chosen.
If only he could have been better.
His final thoughts were of her.