I knew I had to still be alive, because the dead wouldn’t hurt this badly. My body felt like a warhammer had knocked the wind out of me, and every breath felt like fire. I was too stubborn to sit still, so I hauled myself up to at least be able to sit. My body was not particularly happy with this turn of events, but it would have to accept them.

 

The cold of my gauntlet against my head felt nice, trying to calm the pounding sensation in my skull. It felt like I had been drinking too much, or the hammer had decided to pound my head as well. By the time it had calmed down my eyes could focus, and I checked I was still in one piece. To my relief I still had all my appendages.

 

My hand slid, quickly losing grip of the earth and I teetered backwards, heavy plate and an aching back making it easy to fall. The lurching sensation seemed to drag on, my heart pounding as my mind raced. Shaky memories of a cliff face pulling away, of falling, of spinning and of knowing I was going to die flashed through my mind. The earth managed to shake me out of it- more specifically the sharp pain of hitting the ground once more.

 

The moment I could move again my hand reached down for my sword, fingers managing to find only air. Another panic shot through me as I grasped uselessly, shame burning my cheeks at the indignity. My sword was more important than anything, a symbol of her Majesty's authority. My fist hit the ground in frustration before I forced my limbs to work. As I stood I could hear twigs snap, but I didn’t look down. Getting my bearings was a priority.

 

To the east the two sides of the valley merged into a ragged cliff-face, my only hope being the sight of the setting sun in the west. There was no point standing around so I forced myself to move, despite any objections of my aching muscles. There was no sign of my sword anywhere, and I could see my path was blocked by a sturdy gate.

 

It seemed foreign, curved in shape but carved of strong stone and standing about twice my height. The smoothness of it seemed impossible, no chisel marks or impurities. My hand pressed against the stone, but it did not move an inch. My shoulder was next, along with a growl of anger but the stone did not respond to intimidation. I was drenched in sweat and short of breath when I stepped back, eyes looking up finally.

 

 

I had to hold back a snort of laughter, mostly to keep my lungs from burning. Lack of love for myself was not an issue I had, though obviously I wasn’t able to get past the gate. I reached for my canteen and let the cool water splash over my face. The coldness shook me out of my temper, reminding me of the aches in my limbs and how exhausted I was. It seemed a good idea to see more of the valley than just a gate before I collapsed into unconsciousness.

Even in the evening light I could see most of the valley from here: a path of the same stone winding deeper into the valley towards some structure, trees rising out of the sea of flowers colouring the valley floor. As my eyes adjusted I couldn’t help but noticed small indents in the flowers, groups of them crushed by?from my earlier attempts at walking.

 

I felt a pang of guilt looking at the trail of destruction, murmuring a soft prayer of apology. Practically it would be very likely to vex anyone who resided here; I was sure trampling a witch’es personal flower garden was even more foolish. Shaking my head, I pressed on towards the structure on the other side. I had to focus on the challenge in front of me, I couldn’t change what had happened.

 

The silence only made the approach more harrowing, like a calm just before the fighting breaks out. I couldn’t see any light shining ahead of me, but there were more than enough beings who could lurk in the dark. I quieted my footsteps as I approached carefully, leaving only the wind and the splashing of water to be heard. I wasn’t anywhere near defenceless without my weapon but it still left me on edge.

 

As I approached, I could see this hexagonal building was built more to be pretty than sturdy. It was carefully decorated with arches and images, that smooth stone shaped precisely. If it didn’t possibly contain something that would kill me, I would have been able to enjoy it more. Instead I was trying to examine it’s viability as a fortification.

 

It was still easy to note that all the carvings I could see were of women, and that they were bowing in prayer. Of course gods were real but that level of fealty to something intangible always stood my hairs on end. I swore an oath to a flesh and blood queen and a kingdom, not some distant deity.

 

Regardless, knowing this was a temple meant I could be less worried about intruding on someone's evening meal. My foot met with the door and I put on my best stern look, the kind I gave to a squire when she was up late drinking with ladies in a tavern. It’s the sort of entrance that usually would draw the attention of everyone, often a crowd pleaser.

 

Except instead of an audience, I got an empty room. Even a villain might have been preferable.

 

Instead of people I found a rather simple chapel, the only real furniture a plain altar against the far wall. Above that hung a mural of some Divinity, carved and painted with the reverence one would expect for a literal goddess. The walls were covered in carved text and images, not wasting a single inch. Instead of a roof the night’s sky was above, only enough overhang to protect the carvings from the rain.

 

The darkness meant there was no point straining my eyes trying to do any more searching, so I left the temple alone for now. I wasn’t about to strip off my armour until I had searched the valley thoroughly, so I settled in for an uncomfortable night’s rest. In the morning I could grab some fruit to quell my stomach, and find some way out of this place.

 

I wasn’t going to give up.

 

Five sunsets later and I had scoured every inch of this cursed valley over at least twice. I knew if I tried even once more I’d snap. I was used to solitude, but this was different. My duties left me travelling often, but the same three walls and trees and impenetrable gate would surely be the death of me. Without anything to do, I could feel my mind withering away into silence. I needed something to occupy it.

 

I snapped off a straight looking branch, turning it in my hand to look it over. It felt close enough to suffice, and my body already was moving into stance for my drills. Each step had been worn into me from years of training, and the simple flow of action helped keep me focused and calm. 

 

In battle there wasn’t any room to appreciate the fluidity and grace of the motions. Being moments from death tended to keep a mind on other things. Here however, I could just relax and savour the simple rhythm. Already I could feel my focus sharpen, and my breathing timed with each step. Already I could see that this was what I needed.

 

After that came simple exercise. My legs were well enough to do laps around the valley and I could do pull ups from the sturdier branches. By the time I was pleasantly aching the valley was coated in an orange glow, and I could already feel myself ready to rest. Days of searching were not exactly taxing so pushing myself to a panting sweat was enough to leave me drained.

 

I woke up so refreshed the next morning I just did it all again. It seemed drills and exercise were exactly what I needed. After a few days I tried the gate again, but it wouldn’t budge. After a few more I tried to climb the rocks, but a quick fall and my heart pounding in my chest left me searching for another solution. Staring up at the smooth stone I had to wonder if care had been taken to avoid leaving any handholds. 

 

It’s exactly what I would have done if I was some heretical cult imprisoning people.

 

The routine was so simple that days seemed to blur together, my mind just filled with pleasant sensations. The next time I really thought was after I felt a cool sensation splashing my face. My eyes blinked into focus at my own reflection staring back,and a slightly dazed expression on my features. I took a moment to try and gauge what had been going on, and soon enough the knight I knew was reflected on the water’s surface.

 

I was bent over the altar in that temple, and below a pool of water was being fed by some form of stream above. Hazy memories drifted in the back of my mind. I had to have stumbled back in here thirsty one morning, and just had forgotten it amongst the dullness of this prison. I took time to fill my canteen, murmuring a small thank you to be polite to whatever goddess was worshiped here. There was no harm in being polite, especially if I didn’t want to be cursed.

 

I knew it was much easier to handle each day by just following the routine, so I put any qualms to one side. Training was all I needed to focus on. It was hard to keep strong though, and as the days rolled on I had to lash out: My fists pounding against the gate till the ached; Tears rolling down my cheeks as I stared up at the night sky. I could hear my voice crying, begging, pleading for someone to come save me.

 

It was strange hearing your voice for the first time in what seemed like weeks.

 

One morning after drinking my eyes drifted upwards, curious to see this Goddess’ image. Her eyes were deep amber pools that seemed to catch the dawn, sparkling with a golden light. Even as I stared upwards it made my eyes flicker, and my gaze grew fuzzy for a few moments. Someone had taken great love and care in making this, for every curve and feature was carved with the skill one would expect of a royal architect.

 

For a moment she almost looked real, those eyes filled with an impossible warmth. Perhaps this was a dream, or just my mind playing tricks on me. I had been alone for so long that even a silent companion would be enough, and staring up at her I knew how deeply I needed this.

 

As I lingered it was hard not to drift to thoughts of my teacher, back when I was just a squire. Her eyes looked down at me in the same way. She was firm, and every day I would feel new aches from wooden swords against my skin. She was kind, for she would guide me to do better and better. She was proud, and I could see it in those eyes as we clashed blades for what seemed like hours. 

 

It was much easier to remain focused after that. I knew if she were here today I would be lectured for throwing tantrums like a spoiled brat. No matter how hard I pounded the gate would not yield, nor would it open in sympathy at my tears. Each day I wasted could be better spent keeping myself focused and ready. Whenever my will wavered I would imagine those eyes staring down at me. Sometimes it felt like I was back there staring up at her.

 

Curiosity eventually drove me to to further examine the temple, lingering on one of the carved murals. My hand reached out, but the sound of steel scraping stone made me shudder and recoil. Rather than anger an ancient Goddess I pulled of the plated glove, letting it fall to the floor as leather fingers traced each line.

 

In it the valley was detailed, and the focus of the piece was a woman walking down the stone path. Her head was cast down and a hood covered her eyes, perhaps the carver had grown tired and didn’t want to bother. It was hard to imagine why anyone would willingly walk into a prison, but perhaps it was some punishment or ritual.

 

Regardless I had found no graves or remains while searching the valley, which meant she couldn’t have died here. I could already feel the tears forming in the corners of my eyes. If there would have been anyone else pride would hold them in, but alone I had no choice but to let them flow. There was some way to be free, I just had to find it.

 

 

The words were etched above the image in an archaic tongue, so it took me a few moments to sound out the words in my mind. My own voice repeated the sounds, making the question echo back at me. It seemed so distant, but I forced my mind back to before I had been trapped here. I was back in the forest above, and I was running.

 

 

It was a quirk of fate that I had ended up here, a trip and a fall.

 

Even the thought of such an answer seemed wrong, as if I could already tell it would be found wanting if I spoke it alout. I took a step back, and before I knew it the amber eyes had caught my vision and I was lost in those memories once more. I needed to continue my training; that was more important than worrying over simple things.

 

It was difficult to practice with only one armoured hand. My body felt lopsided, and the dance was thrown into disarray. It was easy to just pull off the other gauntlet, leaving it by the tree as I focused on the next set of motions. Even at the end of the day the question still gnawed at the back of my mind, and I resolved to finish what I started.

 

Looking at the image yielded no further answers, though it was easier to appreciate the care that had gone into it now. To find answers, I knew I needed to read the long passage carved in the wall next to it. Though the phrases and questions were easy, I was worried a full passage might be beyond me. My hands had to follow along with the words and I could feel the noises fade away. Translating a full text was taking up all of my focus, but it needed to be done.

 

 

I stepped back, my lips pursed as I tried to collect my thoughts. I made sure to read it again, and again and again. I had to make sure I had translated it correctly. I knew if I made even one mistake that could throw everything off. By the time I had finished I could feel a yawn in my throat. The sun had set, and both my body and mind felt exhausted. It was easy to fall asleep that night, and my dreams felt so quiet.

 

Every day I came back to the mural, trying my best to discern what that story meant. Sometimes I finished running a little early. just to have a little more time to think. It was all worth it. Just like the story had said I could see her lips curled into a slight smile. How could I have ever thought this was a punishment?

 

I had insulted every girl like Lia who had made this journey by thinking that. I couldn’t imagine how much courage it had taken to brave this journey unarmed and unarmoured. I could however, imagine more than a few knights who could learn from these girls.

 

Sometimes I dreamt of being just like her. I imagined walking through these gates with purpose, and the knowledge of how to free myself. Every morning I woke with an aching heart, and I wondered when I had forgotten about searching for freedom. The dream started to fill my idle thoughts, until the answer I was seeking became so clear.

 

I was Lia.

 

I hadn’t set out on a journey, but my choices had lead me here all the same. I had ventured into the forest, I had freed those women, I had sacrificed myself and I had fought until the bitter end. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in, and I knew that was the right answer.

 

After that, I found it much easier to focus back on what mattered. The question no longer filled my spare moments, and the dreams no longer came each night. Occasionally I would let myself get distracted with the story, or let myself spend an evening admiring the mural. Lia had followed these teachings to freedom, and so would I.

 

I could just get it over with and read the next passage, but I knew that rushing things would lead to mistakes. It was like when I had rushed to the gate, and ended up crushing the poor flowers. I simply kept up with the routine, knowing that eventually I would be ready for the next lesson.

 

I felt ready for the next mural when the itch in the back of my mind became too distracting to ignore. When I looked up at it a wave of calm washed through me, and I knew I was right in waiting. 

 

I could easily examine every detail: The kneeling maiden, the rivulets of water cascading over her curved form and the blissful expression. It was hard not to smile when staring at such joy, but I was drawn to the second figure. Her calm expression stood over the kneeling maiden, and her hands rested calmly on those bare shoulders 

 

How could either of these women be troubled? They seemed perfectly contented. One was so blissful it bordered on indecent, and the other radiated a calm warmth that left an infectious smile on my lips. I could enjoy gazing at their expressions forever, but I had a passage to read.

 

 

Even just reading those words, I could suddenly feel how sticky and wrong I felt. The morning run had left me so hot I couldn’t help but shudder at how filthy it made me feel. How long had it been since I bathed properly? I rushed over to the basin, hands shoved down hard enough to send water splashing outwards. I cupped them together and pulled up, a wave of water splashing over my face in a clean cool wave.

 

The coolness on my face and neck only made every other part of me feel more wrong. My armour was blocking the water and trapping the heat, so I immediately started pulling at the straps. I needed it gone, as my hands moved in practiced motions and plate clattered against the hard stone floor. Every so often my hands would reach into the bowl, frantically pouring more heavenly pleasure onto my body.

 

I needed to bend over to pull off my greaves, and I could see something right in front of my eyes. Without thinking I reached up to tug, the hard thunk of a mechanism echoing in the stone. I had just a few moments to hear the rushing of water before everything went white.

 

The splashing water was delightful, but this torrent was overwhelming. I could feel my arms give way as I was pushed to the ground, all my strength nothing against how right this felt. With all my will I managed to to roll over, making sure every inch of me felt this bliss.

 

I had no idea how long I laid there. Even time itself seemed to be washed away by the water. Eventually it started to subside, and I felt myself shudder and shiver at each falling droplet. My body felt numb, save for the aches and scars earned in years of battle. While they did not particularly feel pleasant they seemed especially wrong compared to the bliss of every other inch of me.

 

My eyes already found it hard to stay open, the gears of some mechanism working behind me as I drifted off. On the edge of my hearing I could hear a voice, murmuring words that I could almost remember. My lips moved to speak in time, and I was sure they would fill my dreams as well. If I ever got too distracted I knew the water would help purify me.

 

I was shivering as I woke up, clothes sticking to my body as I was curled on the stone floor. Before I could do anything else I had to get warm, so I peeled off the sodden cloth and left it to dry outside. After yesterday's cleansing I didn’t need to wash my face, so I was already planning how best to spend the day. Even naked I could still train, it was not as if I needed to be bashful when I was alone in the valley.

 

The exercise felt a little too easy without armour to weigh me down, but the feeling of air on my skin was a welcome sensation. By the setting sun I was pleasantly warm, and my body felt slick. Now that I was ready to be made clean, I knelt carefully in preparation. As I pulled the lever I was ready, and this time I could hold my ground. The coolness outlined every muscle and inch of my body,  as even the slightest motion was clear to me. It felt perfect.

 

Still the aches of old wounds were disturbing, like ripples in a calm pool. I pressed my fingers against one eager to understand why the hurt. The pain from the scar felt fresh, and I could see the day it happened so clearly in my mind. A harpy had caught me off guard, slashing at my exposed shoulder. The shame of being caught off guard felt as fresh just as it for the weeks after.

 

The pain I felt was that shame made manifest, and I knew what I had to do. I couldn’t change what had happened or heal the scar itself, but I could stop letting it define me. As if by magic the feelings were washed away in the water, and I felt a little lighter. Each story and shame could be washed away, so I took to the task with diligence. I was pleasantly flushed by the end of it, and I couldn’t help but savour this kind of heat.

 

That heat lingered as I slept, through dreams that I could not remember but could certainly feel. As I awoke I felt like I did after a night with a lover, and knew I couldn’t focus with such distractions. The temple’s waters cleansed away such thoughts, but by the time I had finished cleansing myself it was already too late to exercise.

 

I was so exhausted I fell asleep right there, and again the dreams meant I needed to cleanse myself the next morning. It was hard to remember how many times this cycle repeated, the rush of memories making time seem to bend and almost snap. Sometimes I just stared up at the Goddess as I savoured the feeling. The way it all made me feel reassured me this was exactly what I should be doing.

 

When I stepped out of the temple I felt so much lighter, the past had now been put behind me. The sweet food tasted better for being parted from it, and I groaned in delight with every bite. The words on the wall were as clear in my mind as the memories had been, though I couldn’t remember when I memorized them.

 

I tried to stay focused on running but without my armour it was just too easy to keep my mind occupied. Trying to don my armour, I instantly knew I was far too sensitive to bear it as I felt burnt alive. Instead I focused on my sword drills, and for the remainder of my day I just enjoyed the new sensations. With all the new sensations I still had need to cleanse myself, and even afterwards I often felt just as heated.

 

I don’t know how long it had been, but I knew it was the right time when I stared up at the third lesson. My eyes drunk in every detail, the two women locked in an embrace I had felt many times. It should be out of place in a holy temple but here it just felt right, and I knew it was here for a reason. 

 

 

The memories made me flush, already panting with echoes of remembered desire. I was looking at the words of the passage, but it was too hard to focus on them. Luckily my lips were moving in time with the voice again, and I could hear the words clearly in my mind. I didn’t need to read when I could just enjoy the teachings.

 

 

I couldn’t help but moan as the scene played out in my head, mixing with my heated memories. I imagined my lovers kissing me like they were in the story, the fair maiden against my lips and my squire between my legs. I knew my lips were moving but the pounding in my ears was drowning it out.

 

I could feel my knees hit the ground, the sensation distant behind the haze of lust that seemed to consume me. The rush of water was cold but that only seemed to stoke the fires inside me hotter, and only my hands could quell it. Cooled by the water they felt like another’s touch. I imagined they were of the sisters that would tend to my fragile heart. 

 

I felt brittle like a sword heated in the flames of a furnace, my own desire rising to the point I couldn’t think. Light and dark flashed past my vision, and I couldn’t tell if it was the sun or if it was just the blinding pleasure. Did it even really matter?

 

 

Those words were all that mattered as I was allowed to see again, and I couldn’t help but repeat them. The calm moment passed as quickly as it came, those words echoing through the sensations I could feel. My lips moved to agree, but in my heart I knew it wasn’t true.

 

A knight had no place for true love. A knight had only her duty to her queen, the steel oath she had sworn to the kingdom and the code of honor that kept her true. Yet even as I tried to think of my oaths the heat of desire seemed to melt them away. Even as I tried to think of my queen, I knew she couldn’t reach me here.

 

The only way to freedom was to listen to the teachings, and follow the path laid out for me. All that building desire bursted at that moment, and my moaning cries filled the room. The words didn’t matter. What mattered was what I felt as I lost myself in desire, and the truth I knew in my heart. As my eyes shut, my last thoughts were of how good it felt.

 

When I blinked my eyes open I was bent over against the cool stone. Drool trailed from my lips in a pool, and the slickness between my legs stained the floor with my desire. Perhaps I should have felt ashamed, but all I could do was reach up and let the waters cleanse the floor and my body. I quenched my parched throat and ate as best I could, but soon enough I needed to sate another desire.

 

I stared up at the words as I let my desires pulse between my legs. It didn’t matter if I could see them, the words were burnt into my mind by the Goddess’ love. I had spent so long in the valley that every inch of it was clear in my mind, so I no longer cared about light and dark. I slept when I needed to, ate whenever I needed to, came whenever I needed to.

 

It was so easy to follow a routine that your body set for you.

 

Just like before I knew I needed to be ready for the next lesson, but it felt so much better to prepare myself like this. Each time I burst I could feel myself opening wider, the words sinking deeper into me. Only once I was ready would I be able to leave, and only then could I do my duty.

 

I knew this lesson was important, because I was reading the passage before the image. My eyes could follow the words so easily, and my lips moving perfectly in time with the voice that I quivered at.

 

 

    The accompanying image showed a pilgrim with arms held wide. Every missionary I had ever seen was flanked by a knight or paladin, and yet she seemed perfectly safe alone. My hand had already slid between my legs. I had always loved strong women and she was radiating power.

 

 

    My legs spread as I saw myself so clearly. I looked just like Sabetha and I couldn’t help but get so wet imagining myself so strong.

 

 

Something pressed at the edge of my mind, a cold memory of a stern woman in armour. She seemed so familiar, but as I reached for her she melted away as my fingers curled inside me. It was so much easier to focus on who I could be, and how perfect I was becoming. The pounding of my hips down kept pressing me into shape, hammering every part of me.

 

 

I felt myself becoming the woman I needed to be with each moan from my lips. I begged and pleaded for guidance, as I teetered on the brink of revelation for what seemed like forever. Everything I was: my memories, my knowledge, my dreams, and my very self were melted together in the hot light of my devotion.

 

Even through my lust I could feel my legs moving, trusting the Goddess to guide my steps. The voice questioned me in heated tones, and I cried out each answer. The words pressed me into this new shape and I loved every moment of it, smoothing me into what I would be. The gaze of the goddess looked down at me with pure love as I stared up at her. I was ready for her.

 

When my body was about to give way I knew what I needed to do, and I leant forward with slick fingers and pulled. My desire was smothered by the rushing water, like glowing hot steel after the forge. I didn’t need release. All I needed was this feeling of being forged into a tool of her will.

 

*****************************************************************************

 

 

 

Even though I knew I had to leave, it was hard not to feel a pang of regret. I would miss this place. I would miss the way it felt so peaceful with just myself and the Goddess. Perhaps if I did my duty faithfully I would be able to bring other pilgrims back here, and teach them the ways of the goddess.

 

My lips turned into a smile as I stared up at the words. Only now could I truly understand them, and I thanked the Goddess for her wisdom. My fingers slid down to my sex, and as much as I wished to savour it I had a duty to perform. Fingers thrusted and teased my slick folds, as I recited the mantra’s of pleasure. My knees buckled almost immediately.

 

 

I breathed in the fresh air with a happy sigh, walking down the path with a contented smile. Each new sight and sound was a gift to my senses, and I knew I had so much more to see. I couldn’t help but stop in front of a rusted sword, it’s blade buried deep in the earth. I tugged it out, turning it in my hands at it seemed almost familiar.