6

- Jax'zan -

I look up. There was something in that splash that was not supposed to be there. And there was a sound as from a throat. A thin squeal of the kind a grunk may emit when hit by an arrow.

I sigh, more for the benefit of the Ancestors than because I'm truly annoyed. My prayer has been disrupted, and They would want that to irritate me. But truly I welcome the break. The Ancestors require long prayers in this location.

I slowly straighten up and look across to where the holy water falls through the rocky tunnel from sacred Bune. There is movement there, clearly. A Small, of some kind? No Big could fit through that hole.

I stand as still as if I'm on a hunt, moving my hand towards my sword so slowly the movement is invisible to any creature. Something is splashing in the holy pool, something that is larger than a Small and yet smaller than a Big. The only thing that fits such a description is a human, like me.

I frown. A human in the holy pool? He must be an outtriber. Or, since not even our bitterest rival tribes would ever set foot on sacred Bune, an outworlder. Perhaps a Plood. If so, this place has been badly desecrated.

I choose to disregard stealth over efficiency and just grasp the hilt of my sword. The metal is safe and cool in my hand and I move towards the water. It's too dark in here for me to see clearly, but there is something there.

Yes. A human. Somewhat small, but still. A Plood, then. Except this thing is not gray like them.

He's reached the rocky edge of the water and now he has thrown both his hands onto the shore.

He has five fingers on each hand. The Plood have two. A boy, then?

And there he hangs. I can hear his breath, ragged in his throat like after a huge exertion.

I grasp my sword harder. Why is he not coming out of the water? That's very suspicious. He's got some scheme in mind, no doubt.

Or is it that he can't? I can see him try to hoist his body up, but he must be extremely tired. He's not making it even halfway.

I'm almost within range to strike him with my sword. He has dark hair, long and flowing in the water. Very pale skin. Ah. No stripes. Definitely a boy. An outtriber boy.

His breath is coming fast and shallow and I can see that his eyes are closed. I squat down right behind his head and wonder at the fabric that covers his torso. It bulges over his chest in a way that I haven't seen before.

It' must be an alien. An alien boy. Well, I suppose they must exist. But they may not exist in the holy pool of the Ancestors. I will sacrifice his blood to them. Surely they will not then require me to complete the tedious prayer.

I raise the sword above my head. At the same moment, the boy loses his grip on the shore and his fingers slide uselessly across the rock. His head falls backward into the water and I see his face.

In astonishment, I drop my sword and it falls to the ground with a resounding clang.

That face ... that's not a boy. Certainly not a man. So pale, so smooth, with an beauty so otherworldly I can feel my crotch spontaneously swelling. That looks like ... no, that feels like ...

“Surely not,” I whisper in awe as the face disappears under the surface and becomes a pale spot. “Holy Ancestors, surely not!”

But in the center of my being I know that it is.

I dive into the pool without even a short prayer. I grasp the alien under its arms and pull it ashore, then gently pull it up from the water.

I check its breath. Yes, still alive. Some water is running out of its mouth and I roll it over on its side.

Oh holy Ancestors, the backside is even more enticing than the front!

The alien splutters and coughs wetly. I sit back on my haunches and just stare. Never have I felt more in awe. And the Prophecy has predicted this!

Because this, what I have just pulled out of the holy pool of Bune, is not from here. We haven't had any of these for eons. This is ...

I swallow. I can't even think the word.

“A woman,” I whisper, not sure if my voice can carry that unusual word.

But I must make sure. Does the Prophecy not say that we must not be fooled by those who would attempt to seem like women, but are not truly female?

I remember the signs very clearly, as every Rexvi warrior would. We all dream about this when we're younger and during the stripening. We all dream of being the warrior who finds the woman in the water and then proceeds to ...

I gasp as I remember. To mate with her!

I reach my hand out and gingerly touch her skin. Wet and smooth and cool. So pale and soft. Truly wondrous.

I must take her garments off to check if the signs are here in full.

The lower part calls to me the most. I fumble with the alien fabric closing mechanism. It won't come apart! Where's the drawstring?

I try to pull downwards on it, and then it parts in some very complicated way to reveal more fabric underneath. Huh. How very alien and how very arousing.

I keep pulling down everything I can find, and then, finally, it's revealed to me. I sit backward in awe.

A slit. A soft, gentle little slit right where the manhood would be on a male. My own is throbbing so hard I have trouble keeping it under control.

This is one of the signs. A woman! It's true!

The holy cave spins around me as the implications zoom through my mind. But most of all, that little slit calls to me. I must worship the Woman, as the Prophecy states. She is to be worshipped and honored.

I slide her garments further down so I can spread her miraculously soft and hairless thighs apart.

This will be the best moment of my life.