Meriah's Note: There is something I should explain beforehand to prevent confusion. This chapter has segments, and one of them doesn't relate at all to the others. To help ease the reading, this unrelated segment is written in first-person. You'll like the character, I can assure you.

If you're still confused after the reading, mention it in a review. I'll try to clarify.


"My dove, in the clefts of the rock, the coverture of the steps,

show me your appearance,

let me hear your voice,

for your voice is pleasant and your appearance is comely."

- Song of Songs, Chapter 2:14


The Pilpintu Raymi was to occur that night. Women batted at their perspiration caused by clay ovens as they prepared the grandest foods. The capable elderly assisted them, while others conversed between giving orders. Men were occupied with clearing away vegetation at the festival grounds, and young children aided their parents by whatever means. Even the toddlers, whom were far too young for work, clung to their mothers' sides to felt joined in the activity. When eyes were not on them, they took the opportunity to snatch slices of berry bread.

In addition, the adolescents were also busy. The youth insipidly listened to the men lecture about how to enchant females, or they finished the dowries they had slacked on for months. Meanwhile, the maidens chattered like birds to one another as they decided on what dresses to sport, and weaved brilliant flowers into their hair.

It was said that the Pilpintu Raymi was an event for all, yet more so for the youths, and principally for the maidens. Their beauty mirror-imaged life itself; they were representations of pristine water, verdant land, and the soothing pastels of dawn. For them, this was the most significant time of their years: It symbolized their fertility; their closeness to the Mother.

And one, especially, would cherish the Pilpintu Raymi: The one entitled T'ikariy Nyust'a -- literally, Blossom Princess. She was the one regarded as the most resplendent, not only in beauty, but also in femininity. Until the following year, she would be venerated by all, and be crowned by a single dried hibiscus said to originated from Shaymin, Goddess of Gratitude. And this flower, too, was emblematic: It was an illustration of agricultural labor in the previous months, rewarded now with an abundant harvest. Essentially, everything in the lives of these people was an intimate connection with nature; this said, they felt thankful and blessed.

"Find a man this time!"

"I will," Sutichay promised.

Taruca snickered, certain that her friend would once again decline offers from men. She already determined Sutichay would remain a single, lonely virgin for all her years, and perhaps become a midwife. Sutichay, though, could understand the thought floating within the teenager's mind, and retaliated with an annoyed glare.

"I am far from a liar," the woman stated. "I really will settle down this time. Expect me to be popping out babies like Meowths have litters!"

"Sure, sure," was the sarcastic reply.

She sighed. "I'm serious, Taruca. I'm tired of being alone, and my expectations have been far too high. I need to remember that I'm a simple village maiden." With that, she fixed a tiara of mauve orchids in her hair, then accented it with a single white lily.

"About time you said that…"

Despite the frostiness which rang from Taruca, she genuinely cared for Sutichay. However, she could not believe her friend would finally raise a family. The concept seemed foreign! She could understand Sutichay still being single if she was dense or unsightly, but neither applied. She was intelligent, and although not stunning, quite attractive.


Gradually, the sun descended into the river as the sky turned to scarlet, then violet, and eventually to the deepest shade of blue. The water below, mimicking the image above, seemed to greet the twilight. Then minutes transpired, until the moon fully rose and veiled the landscape in luminous silver, at which a fire was lit. Sutichay's gaze was affixed on the flames that coiled above her like a great snake, and she knew the festival was soon to start.

The constant beat of the bombo legüero - a drum - pulsated to the cadence of the shaman's apprentice footsteps as he traveled through the crowd. He advised everyone to hush, for his master, a man of utmost veneration, was soon to appear. Some jeered that he was far too young to give orders, but he realized they were already drunk.

"Everyone, please!" he exclaimed. "This is a time of happiness, however, we must not forget to show respect."

"Boy, this is the night when we are equals," stated the chief from his throne. At that, the elder walked down the steps to meet his people. His wives remained at their posts, to which he gestured for them to join him.

The apprentice, who still was in the stage of showing artificial reverence, fell to his knees. "Forgive me, Great One."

The chief smiled. "No need for that right now, lad. As I said, tonight everyone is in unity; let us be joyous."

"Agreed, brother," said a voice from behind the multitude of villagers. It was the shaman, adorned in a multihued tunic specific for the Pilpintu Raymi. Strapped over his shoulder was what seemed to be a bag, and judging by its ornaments, it was of significance. He stopped, and reaching into the bag, pulled from it a couple of sparrows -- a male and female -- and released them to the celestial heavens.

The villagers cheered, aware of their symbolism: Sparrows represented everlasting love.

Once the atmosphere calmed, the shaman removed the tarka - a flute - from his bag. Then, following the beat of the bombo legüero, he welcomed the opening of the ceremony. His instrument resonated an eerie yet beautiful sound as the bonfire behind him seemed to follow the melody.

What occurred was first a prayer to the Goddess. The shaman indicated for everyone to draw their attention to him. He then slammed a polished branch into the earth, and its quake shuddered through the people. Sutichay felt the vibration surge through her like electricity in her veins.

The villagers were all familiar with the prayer -- it was embedded into them; as recognizable as the eternal sun. And as if in a chant, they sounded in monotonous unison:

Oh Goddess, the Flowing Spring of Existence,

Source of Light and Birth,

Our Divine Mother…

From you heart comes the abundance of all living.

From your eyes originates the dawn across distant mountains

and these green lands, our home.

And from your soul is the call to purity and wisdom.

As if spellbound, the words flowed from her lips like a dove on wing. Sutichay knew this. Oh, yes, she knew this.

Her eyes shut.

About you are the elements:

Water, the giver, well of women,

Air, the sustainer, from which things are animated,

Fire, the passion, chamber of our essences,

Earth, the womb, the nurturer of all.

And within you lies the primal and greatest of such energies…

Ether, the continuum of Time and Space, the Universal Soul.

The shaman gave another loud boom from his grand instrument.

You give us rain,

Which trails into soils below,

And from it comes fertility.

You greet us with the sun,

The emblem of your love,

To ensure we preserve.

The emotion from the peoples then transformed. Prayer rose over praise, subtle yet potent as any wind.

Come, Mother,

Listen to the prayers of Your children.

Protect us in health,

Shield women in childbirth,

Guide men in their travels,

Let our children always be merry,

Yield us splendid harvests,

And…

Do not allow us to meet the End of Days.

Sutichay's eyes opened as the shaman greeted everyone, freeing her from the trance.

"My people!" he cried out with pleasure. "The Pilpintu Raymi is a favorite holiday by all. Tonight, young men and women will find one another and together cultivate a connected soul."

His eyes fell upon those of the celebrated generation. They were now the ones to foster new life. They were the preservers of life.

…Yet an even more significant gaze fell solely upon Sutichay. It waved through her, and slowly, she shed the layers of her reserve to seek the admirer.


MEWTWO:

I felt her coming. That was all I needed, for even if deaf or blind, I would have sensed her psychic signature meandering through the darkness.

She was never absent. She continuously wanted me.

I was aware of this. A primal nature within me thirsted for her allure.

She was in the doorway, accented by the glow of the candle in her hand. Its soft flames danced over the woman, and cast her silhouette upon the wall.

She was always gorgeous, yet her radiance never failed to enchant me.

A crimson kimono skimmed lazily over her shoulders, drawing attention to her features -- eyes like distant pools, ivory skin, slender waistline. Part of her hair was loosely fastened, while the rest fell down to meet her concealed breasts.

She came closer, then stopped within inches of my touch. Mewtwo-sama… she spoke telepathically, and it was melodious.

Suddenly I pulled her into my arms, and my mouth nipped at her neck. My hips ground against hers, as she gasped with a searing passion.

Natsume, my doll. My exquisite… I responded.

I craved for her.

A low growl leaked from me as I traced her collarbone with my tongue, and she pled for more -- my touch always emitted that response. Then my teeth iced designs into her sensitive flesh, a blizzard of pain.

Her hands caressed my chest as her gaze locked with my own. She carried a faint scent of jasmine, and I could not resist: I kissed her, mild and succulent, and I could feel her melt into my pleasure. In such moments it was irrelevant that she was a mortal and I a god, for we were a single flame.

The kiss deepened, now evolving into one of lust. Her velvet tongue embraced mine, torpid with a hint of callousness. And I welcomed her action, kneading at her sensitive flesh.

Her head fell back with the release of a moan, while her body quivered with desire. Her back arched, as if she surrendered herself to me, above the physical realm into that of quintessence. I was aware she wanted more but asked if I should continue, for this woman's soul was in my possession, like languid prey under the a hound's fangs.

I need you… she answered in a hazy voice. As I always do…

There was something enticing about her response, perhaps the tone or because she always chose to converse psychically in these gatherings. I felt my feline instinct growing tremendous, but I calmed myself, knowing women favored foreplay.

Natsume's fingers traversed across my abdomen like white light. Her silk-covered legs slipped between my thighs, tormenting me with my own raw arousal.

Her devious, almost mocking eyes were still pouring into mine. Then her gaze trailed downward, a sly grin bright on her lips. What was it about a woman which could return anyone to their most innate, vulnerable self? They embodied the art of seduction… they could yield one helpless.

Perhaps it was not her whom had been the sacrifice, but I.

I was a glutton, drunken to her power, and she hushed my cries by brushing off her kimono.

I had seen her this way many times, but even then continued to be spellbound by her beauty. Liberated of her robes like a once caged dove, she was glorious.

She seized me in another kiss. A blazing connection between us, no serenity in it, only a firestorm of ecstasy. And I stroked her right breast, circling the nipple, tantalizing it, almost amused by the whimper I felt in her throat. Then nails raked my back, delivering pain and pleasure.

The kiss persisted as she sensed me becoming hard. As she did this, her hands moved lower, ever so skillfully...

And I was lost to a sea of rapture.


The blaze of the festival was second in luminosity to the energy which had bewitched the participants. Youth and maidens, relieved that the shaman had finally completed the rituals, now reached out to one another under the glow of the vermilion flames. While some went unnoticed, with a dying zeal to find happiness in this night, others danced, conversed, or left the parameter to seek privacy.

As the dancers progressed, the fire seemed to mimic their movements, swaying in a fast tempo. The rhythm of their feet vibrated through the ground below, awakening the earth from slumber, and sounded to the heavens above. Even the moon seemed enchanted, its white-silver beams pouring on the dancers, as if to celebrate.

In time, the dancing established its zenith before slowing down, symbolizing the adolescents' attentions on their future spouses. They departed in separate directions, away from the brightness of the moonlight to the shadows which crept under the tree line, to pledge their vows.

Sutichay, with her hand now held by a man's, found completion in the darkness. The admirer whispered with the lightness of a feather on wind: "I sought you among the multitudes, for your beauty is precious as the lotus."

She was touched by the imagery. While she realized young men were instructed by their elders to captivate women with soothing, melodic confessions, his felt sincere.

"There is no need to talk fancifully," Sutichay said with a grin. "But I'll admit it's attractive."

A smile spread across her face. And the man, noticing this, added more tantalizing words.

Upon hearing this, she edged in closer, like a fox after a mouse. With a sudden bolt of speed, her hand broke away. As a finger trailed across his lips, she revealed, "Somehow I figured I'd end up with you, Katari," she laughed. "After all of our time together…"

And with that, a kiss fell upon him.


Ending note: For those who don't know, Natsume is Sabrina's Japanese name. If I include any more canon human characters, they too will be addressed by their Japanese names. However, I'm using the dub names for the Pokémon to make this fic easier to follow. That is why Mewtwo is called Mewtwo in this, rather than Myuutsu, Myuutsuu, or other variations, for instance.

And I really need to stop making so many notes. Gah.

Hey, guys, let's hope Chapter 4 doesn't take as long to come out XD