Motherheart Dragon Priest

Chapter 10e - Crocodile Wymin

“Don’t give him ideas sister!” said Mocking Laugh as she returned and unwrapped the Barrukala. The baked Wankurra burrowtail fell apart as the paperbark was unwrapped. Moon served himself adding some steamed greens to his bowl. The meat was tender and delicately spiced.

“Mmm, cinnamon and fenugreek. A good choice to mobilise the jing oily tonics of the Wankurra burrowtail!” Moon ate heartily then realised that neither of the witches were eating.

“Ahh, you have saved this feast for me?” he said light heartedly, while wondering what else they had added to the food that he could not detect.

The two of them laughed and then in full view of him they began caressing and fondling each other in the most provocative way. He smiled inwardly at their obviousness.

“Did they send us a eunuch this time sister?”, asked Mocking Laugh as she slid her hand between her sister’s thighs. They opened partway revealing no seam in the sparring trousers. Cold Eyes lowered her head and kissed the now naked breast of her sister.

“My Dao is mine Priestess, no matter what you do or how you behave. The food is excellent and the ritual you have begun, most enlightening.” They laughed at his formality and moved over each other in the forms of the Yin Circle as they continued to kiss each other.

Moon served more food and taking his leave of them and their pursuit of heavenly thunder sat outside in the shade of the building and enjoyed the sounds of the middle of the day.

Moon smiled and shook his head at how the preponderance of their yin, their receptiveness, would ultimately overwhelm their yang, and create rebellious yang that would erupt and poison their shen. The Temple did not shun yin or yang circle meditation but to use it as part of rebellion was heresy.

No wonder these two used so many yang tonic practices and herbs. The mechanism of yin subjugating yang was well understood and wymin who chose to live this way were accepted without any prejudice. Their flourishing yin would alter their being so that the yang was transformed but they would never attain the states of meditation where they would sail the cosmic seas aback a shimmering star dragon.

The same was true for men who practiced yang circle rituals, but for them it was the yang subjugation of yin that was at the core of their cultivation. Both were accepted but frowned upon unless the practitioners actively balanced their dao with the appropriate external tonics and foods.

To achieve this the witches would need an abundant source of external yang and use this to transmute their over-abundance of yin. Dual cultivation with such as these would cripple the dan tians or elixir fields of the average priest. Moon understood now what he had to do.

Without appropriate cultivation practices these two would instead become yin itself and, like the worst of storms they would rage across the land as uncontrolled floodwaters destroyed all in its path. His task was to demonstrate the power of, and the paths for, channelling their over-cultivated yin and rebellious yang into that of heavenly rain as it was called by achieved priestesses.

Later they would be taught the highest of practices of how to cultivate this into yang burning within water as it was called and so be of benefit to all. This was likened to the flood that slowly spreads across the drought-ridden land leaving silt, recharged water holes and flourishing rivers.

For these two now though, caught up as they were in the storm of their rebellion, their rituals were just another weapon in their assault on what they saw as the inflexible theocracy of the Temple. In fact, and Laughing Moon smiled in recognition, all this was a last show of contempt and a flaunting of their selfishness before the shattering of their illusions and the enlightenment of their respective returns to the Dao. He understood their rebellion as his had been just as great, and as his priestess mentor had guided him, so he would guide these two to their enlightenment.

The others who had come before him to lead these two back to a constructive Dao, had fallen straight away for the trap these witches had set and so succumbed to their sexual provocation. The priests on their return from failure always prattled on about how these two must be saved from their subsidence into yin. No, Moon realised that he had to yield like water before their water. He would subjugate his essence fire and use it to shield his shen against their rebellion. He would learn of their true intention soon enough and then they of his.

Moon finished his food and moved toward the training hall saying, “My thanks for the food, I will now see to my repairs.” With that he turned his back on their overtness and left the two of them to complete their ritual.

After, out of sight in the dune scrub, he brought up his food and buried it deeply, then went to the sea to wash. Their qi is stronger than I thought and their use of the yang fire herbs in the food was subtle, but no they will not force my fire so easily, he thought. He removed his trousers and tunic and stayed in the shallows as he washed and opened his bowels to allow the coolness of the Mother ocean to enter him and so aid in washing out any fast moving herbs he had not retched clear of himself. The coolness also returned his fire to the lower heater in his abdomen.

Finishing he stood and, not spying any sea dragons, he moved along the beach feeling for shellfish and crabs with his feet. Catching them he placed them in a pouch around his neck, he would eat his own food tonight. Mocking laughter echoed from the scrub behind him and he heard the footfall of one of the witches as she crossed the beach behind him.

“Woodsman, are you afraid of the sea as much as you are afraid of me?” Mocking Laugh called as she ran past him and jumped into the small waves as they caressed the beach. Her near naked and now oiled body glistened in the full light of Father Sun as she waded out till the water lapped at her thighs. A collar of some sort was about her shoulders and she carried ritual daggers in each hand. She stood legs apart and her arms outstretched and yelled into the sky 

“Dragons of the sea, I am yours, take me!”

Moon cursed under his breath, was the witch mad or had the euphoria of her ritual made her careless of the sea dragons. He had not seen any as he came down the dunes nor as he had fished, but they were always near at hand to human settlement. Part of him strained to grab her and throw her out of the water, but another aspect laid a hand on his impetuousness and he stood quietly waiting for whatever was obviously planned. He did not see the dark shadow in the water until it was only a dozen paces from her and he waited for what seemed to be the inevitable.

She stood there chanting loudly then, at the last moment, turned to face the monster. He heard the twang from behind him at the same time as the arrow hit the water and the saltwater crocodile rolled seeking its attacker. Another arrow struck and the water began to show red as the life blood of the sea dragon began to leak away. The sea dragon surfaced and another arrow hit.

Mocking Laugh contorted herself and one of the ritual daggers flew from her hands trailing a thin cord. The rope dart hit and held and Moon could see that it had struck cleanly up into the animal’s throat as the beast had rolled up out of the water. The other flew out to its target and its long ritual blade slid easily from the open throat up into the sea dragon’s brain, stilling the monster almost instantly.

Moon smiled to himself, turned from the water, gathered his clothes and made to move up the beach. Cold Eyes ran past him, a hunter’s bow slung across her back and her leather hunting jacket holding her breasts flat to her chest. A cold self confident smile confronted him as he looked at her. He turned and walked back to his tool baskets.

“This is going to be more interesting than I thought!”, he said to himself.