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The Goddess of Self-hatred

Chapter 9

Azrian thought she already knew how to fly. Apparently, she didn't.

Zuu'ma led her to a high cliff and pushed her off. She screamed, flapped frantically, and nearly fell to her death - but Zuu'ma took her by the paw and pulled her around in a smooth glide, and up they swept.

It was awkward at first, learning to fly from someone whose wings were on their arms. Azrian's little red wings were not on her arms but on her back, and compared to Zuu'ma's majestic spread, they were tiny. She felt like a chick learning to fly from a hawk, and as a result, could barely keep up with her instructor most days. But Zuu'ma was ever cheerful and sweet, patiently catching Azrian when she fell from a dive and circling about her as she struggled to stay airborne.

Zuu'ma was so beautiful when flying, so graceful and smooth, there were many times when Azrian almost fell for staring. The spirit's golden wings in the sunlight were dazzling, and when the wind rippled through them, she almost seemed to glow.

With flying lessons came water walking, shape shifting, and elemental magic.

The water walking was - surprisingly enough - the easiest thing. Azrian conquered her fear of falling soon enough, and before long, was chasing Zuu'ma across the water as the spirit laughed girlishly, feathers sparkling in the sunlight.

There was one day when Azrian fell, tackling Zuu'ma with her, and they plunged in the river in a roaring cascade. Zuu'ma's head broke the surface, and she cocked a golden brow before playfully spitting water in Azrian's face. Azrian laughed, and they splashed each other, breasts trembling, eyes bright with joy.

"Puh - I'll kill you!"

"Eee hee hee!"

Azrian didn't know how to swim. For fear her little wings would only hinder her, she had never tried. And the murky water of the Nahet was not for swimming. She kicked her shapely legs and turned, tail twisting as she tried to evade Zuu'ma's splashing.

"Oh, no, you don't!" the goddess cried. Her great wings swept through the water and hugged Azrian tight from behind, pushing up her big breasts and making the cleavage swell. Breathless with laughter, they fell silent as they both looked at Azrian's breasts - swollen and jutting with nipples behind the tight, wet fabric of her torn top. They heaved, riding with Azrian's pants. Azrian waited tensely for Zuu'ma to touch them. Zuu'ma's eyes warmed with desire, but she let go and waded away. Disappointed, Azrian followed her with a frown. But she said nothing of it.

That Zuu'ma wanted her was painfully clear to Azrian, who dropped no small amount of hints that she wanted the goddess too - even daring to undress and bathe in the river, right in front of her, touching herself with careful fingers as the water glistened on her red curves and dripped off her hard nipples. Zuu'ma always found a reason to disappear when this happened - sometimes for days on end.

But she always returned.

Shape shifting was trickier. It required touching another's soul, learning that soul, and then copying it. Zuu'ma had Azrian practice on little bushes and shrubs. Every living thing had a spirit, and to read that spirit, Azrian had to touch the bush and attune her own spirit to it. It wasn't long before she was able to copy the bush she had touched - but she would only be able to copy that specific bush. Souls were something that had to be remembered, and that memory stored away in ones mind - like a collection of keys to a series of locks.

One day, Azrian surprised Zuu'ma by becoming her, but this disturbed and angered the spirit so greatly that she quickly changed back. Zuu'ma wouldn't speak to Azrian for a long time after the incident and eventually flew away. That time, she didn't return for more than a week. Azrian was terrified she had finally offended the goddess, and her relief knew no end when Zuu'ma reappeared.

The goddess was quiet and hardly seemed able to look Azrian in the eye. In desperation, Azrian hugged her, wept, and apologized, begging her never to leave again. Zuu'ma stroked her mane, her cyan eyes sad.

"Hush, kitten. I'm sorry I left you. I . . . almost didn't come back," she admitted.

"Where did you go?"

They walked together across the water. Azrian took Zuu'ma's claw and squeezed it.

Zuu'ma's long lashes fanned down. "It doesn't matter."

"Why did you go? I didn't mean to upset you."

"I know. I just . . . can't stand myself."

Azrian looked at Zuu'ma in amazement.

"Come," the goddess said, looking away. "You need your rest. Tomorrow, we begin elemental."

In less than a week, Azrian could conjure balls of flame, set nearby bodies of water to churning, and summon the wind to her aid. But each time she summoned an element, there was price: her breath for the wind, her sweat for the water, her blood for the fire.

The elements drew on ones life force and could even kill someone who was inexperienced. For this reason, elemental magic was dangerous, and Zuu'ma cautioned Azrian to use it as a last resort.

With elemental lessons also came lessons in gentler magic: growing flowers and restoring dead trees, healing wounds, and multiplying the wildlife - a sort of magic that acted like an aphrodisiac, encouraging the fish to swell the rivers and the hares to overrun the undergrowth. Zuu'ma informed Azrian that gentle magic was something that would take years to perfectly master, but the spirit was pleased and even impressed that Azrian had healed at least a quarter of the Celankobi already.

It slowly came to Azrian's attention that Zuu'ma had few if any powers. But the spirit was so knowledgeable; one could only assume that her powers had once been great. Years as a mortal had no doubt dwindled her abilities. Azrian thought it was very sad, Zuu'ma living on her own in the mortal realm, hiding from dog hunters and foxes alike. A god who had been cast down did not deserve respect in the eyes of the foxes, while dogs would have killed Zuu'ma simply out of fear. And if the dogs didn't kill her, Azrian can't imagine her fate wouldn't have been worse.

Lessons were held every morning, but Azrian and Zuu'ma made every afternoon a lazy afternoon, walking together, sitting by the river, lounging in the trees. Azrian would lay her head on Zuu'ma's breasts and close her eyes as the gentle spirit stroked her mane. And somehow, she knew it was familiar, those gentle fingers, that soft humming. They would relax until the evening, when Azrian went out to hunt, taking up her spear and straddling Meba's glossy green back. She would return with ram, hare, or what few deer had migrated back to Celankobi in the sort time that it began to revive. Zuu'ma would fish from the river, using the talons on her feet to snatch prey as she flew.

One day it rained, and they didn't have lessons at all. Instead, they stayed in Zuu'ma's cavern, laying on her grass nest and its soft heather, listening to the rain and each other's heartbeats. The nights were cold - even when Azrian conjured a magical fire - and Azrian had become accustomed to sleeping in the fold of Zuu'ma's wings for warmth. Lying on her had become as natural as looking at her.

As it continued to rain, Azrian lay with her cheek near Zuu'ma's breasts, her eyes closed, listening contently to her steady heartbeat as the spirit stroked her long red mane. The soft sound of the pattering rain was soothing in the stillness, as was the soft roar of the rushing waterfall.

"Zuu'ma?"

"Hmm?"

"You said you were a goddess, that you once lived in Skkye."

"Yes."

Azrian frowned. "What were you the goddess of?"

"Isn't it obvious? Tch. I'm hurt, kitten."

Azrian smiled. "Were you the goddess of laughter? You're always laughing."

Zuu'ma smiled down at her, her slanted eyes hooded. "I was a goddess of love."

"Oh! That's lovely."

"Yes," agreed Zuu'ma. "It was for a time."

"You must've had worshippers, a tribe?"

"Yes. A kingdom, in fact. The foxes did not become tribes for many centuries."

Zuu'ma sounded so unhappy that Azrian knew she shouldn't ask, but she did anyway, ". . . what happened to them?"

"Ayni happened."

Azrian frowned sadly. "Oh." She fell silent, thinking of Ayni, of the goddess of rage as she slaughtered those foxes devoted to Zuu'ma with fire from her wings. Nhlahla had once called Ayni the Wings of Fire. It was how the foxes knew her. Ayni hated Ti'uu. Helping Ti'uu was probably for Zuu'ma one nice way of getting back at Ayni.

"In those days, the gods warred upon each other," Zuu'ma said. Her claw rested on the small of Azrian's back; the other stroked her mane. "It is where the foxes learned war in the first place."

"Why did Ayni fight you?"

Zuu'ma didn't answer. So Azrian didn't push. Zuu'ma never answered when a question was too personal or too painful, though Azrian silently kicked herself each and every time she strayed into those delicate waters.

They fell silent again, listening to the soft fall of the rain. Azrian looked at Zuu'ma's breasts, standing so perky and high near her face. Zuu'ma had to be thousands of years old, had become mortal, and yet still looked like a young girl. Assuming she had been banished a thousand years before, why hadn't she aged and died yet? Perhaps she couldn't die until something bad happened to her. Perhaps being immortal in Skkye meant being unable to die at all, while becoming mortal simply meant . . . being able to die.

I love your tits, Azrian thought, watching as Zuu'ma's golden breasts gently rose and fell near her face. But it wasn't Zuu'ma's breasts that had nursed her. It was Esra's. Zuu'ma had merely possessed Esra's body, had felt the sensation of Azrian's hungry lips on Esra's nipple. What was it like to feel that way and look at Azrian now? Azrian wanted to taste the nipples of the goddess of love. Taste them and lick them. . . .

"My kitten has gone all quiet," Zuu'ma said with a laugh and stroked Azrian's long red mane. "What could be going through that pretty little head of hers?"

"Do you really think I'm pretty?" Azrian asked bitterly.

"Yes. But there's nothing to be done about it," Zuu'ma scolded.

"You could touch me."

"Don't talk like that. It's . . . wrong."

Azrian scowled. "No. It's not!"

Zuu'ma sighed. "Yes. It is. You were banished from Nahet because you could not control your desires. Because you took whatever you wanted --"

"No. Because I took what I could not have. Why can't I have you?" Azrian smoothed her paw over Zuu'ma's firm breast and squeezed, watching with hunger as the pink nipple jutted.

Zuu'ma gasped and pried her paw off. "Don't."

"Alright," Azrian said angrily, "let's say I did go to Wychowl and seduce the prince and yadda, yadda."

Zuu'ma smiled. "Alright. Let's say. And yadda, yadda."

Azrian frowned unhappily. "What would happen to you?"

There was a long pause. Then Zuu'ma sighed.

"Zuu'ma . . ."

"You can not stay with me forever, kitten."

"Yes, I can."

"You have a destiny."

"No, I don't."

Zuu'ma sighed again.

"There is always a choice. Or there should be," Azrian insisted.

"Kitten . . ." Zuu'ma smoothed down Azrian's mane. "Love is not a choice. It has been foreseen. When you meet Prince Etienne . . ."

"Then maybe I'll just avoid meeting him."

"Ha. The way the sun avoids rising."

Azrian glowered, and Zuu'ma felt the twist of her expression against her feathers. She stroked Azrian's mane again, slowly, soothingly.

"Give the prince a chance. You might like him."

Azrian curled her fingers in Zuu'ma's golden plume. "I like you . . ." She spread the feathers away with two fingers, and Zuu'ma's pink nipple stood hard and tiny against the swell of her breast. Zuu'ma went still when Azrian cupped her and drew near. She extended her tongue and slowly licked.

"Oh . . . oh, kitten, no . . ."

Azrian ignored her. She had wanted for weeks, had watched in secret as Zuu'ma bathed, smoothing the water over her ample curves. Zuu'ma had a body that jutted in all the right places. Her backside under her tail was plump and high, as were her breasts. Her waist was teeny and her mane of golden plume long. With long lashes, she smiled and laughed, rubbed her own hips, bent over to reveal her pink sex, and drove Azrian wild. She was sweet smelling. And sweet. And soft. And Azrian knew she tasted as good as she felt in her arms.

"K-Kitten!" Zuu'ma breathlessly protested. "Oh! . . . no."

Azrian kept going, squeezing and massaging one plump breast as she suckled the other. Zuu'ma's lashes fluttered and her fingers curled in Azrian's mane. Azrian rolled her tongue against the nipple, then gave away to deeply sucking, until the swell of cleavage rose against her face. Her paw smoothed over Zuu'ma's curves, relishing in the dip of her waist, the rise of her hip, and stopped to cup her sex. She carefully sank her fingers.

"Oh . . ." Zuu'ma moaned. She closed her wings around Azrian, and wrapped in the darkness of the soft fold, Azrian continued carefully sucking, carefully fingering, as Zuu'ma's shapely body twisted against the pleasure.

Zuu'ma's flat belly was trembling violently, and Azrian licked it, realizing with sudden sympathy that Zuu'ma probably hadn't been touched in quite a long time. She dragged her hot tongue to Zuu'ma's sex and pealed her trembling thighs apart before plunging her face again. Zuu'ma's pink sex heaved before her noise, oozing out the moisture of her arousal. Azrian gently sniffed the swollen lips, then licked them - lightly, then hard and harder, until her face was moving between the thighs of the little goddess and devouring her, hungrily and with abandon.

Zuu'ma squirmed and so did her sex. She lifted her claws above the spread of her golden head-plume, and her wings opened wide as she thrust her shivering breasts to the ceiling, twisting her hips against Azrian's hot mouth.

"Oh! Ah . . . ah . . . ah!"

"Mm . . . You taste so . . ." Azrian buried her face again and ate ravenously.

"Ah! K-Kitten, s-stop . . . no . . .!"

Zuu'ma's feathers rustled as she struggled to get away. She managed to sit up and looked down at her shapely thighs, between which Azrian's head was moving. The vixen's backside rose in the air and her tail lifted, revealing her swollen sex as she leaned down on her elbows to devour. Zuu'ma tried to scoot off the nest of grass, but Azrian hugged her thighs and held her in place. It suddenly occurred to her that she was much stronger than Zuu'ma. Her arms tightened on the goddess, and closing her eyes again, she licked her moist sex, slowly and lovingly.

Zuu'ma touched Azrian's mane with a shaking claw. Her sex was clenching and straining against the pleasure as Azrian's relentless mouth tasted, kissed, and licked. Zuu'ma's head fell back. Her body tensed and she squirted.

"A-Ahhhh!"

The wet slap hit Azrian's face, glossy and hot. The cry of the goddess was shrill, helpless, and weak. She sagged where she sat, sharp breasts riding with her pants as Azrian lovingly lapped up her moisture, her wet tongue slapping slowly from anus to clit.

Azrian sat up and knelt facing the goddess as she licked her lips. She smiled. "I wish I could kiss you . . . Zuu'ma? What's the matter?"

Zuu'ma's cyan eyes were dark with shock and shame. She covered herself with the sweep of one wing and scooted back. Azrian watched in dismay as she scrambled to her feet. She rose as well, following when Zuu'ma went to the mouth of the cavern.

Zuu'ma opened her wings and prepared to kick off. She was leaving.

No. No! Azrian ran to her and grabbed her shoulder. "Don't go - please! What did I do wrong? I'll do it better!"

Zuu'ma squeezed her eyes shut. "Don't say such things."

Azrian shook her head, her long mane shifting around her. "But what's the matter?"

Zuu'ma bowed her head a moment. Eventually, she whispered to the cavern floor, "I am your father's lover."

Azrian gasped, horrorstricken as she backed away. "No!"

"Yes." Zuu'ma lifted her face and said with difficulty, "You won't see me again. You don't really need me anymore. Our lessons . . . have completed." She smiled sadly, then flapped her wings and slipped through the curtain of water roaring over the cavern.

Azrian listened to the distant flap of those wings. And hated herself.