Night fell swiftly in the sacred cave, though a few shards of daylight still filtered down from hidden fissures in the ceiling. Amara lay naked on a bed of moss and ferns, idly tracing her fingers through the cool water of the underground pool. Hiwana had mysteriously vanished with the waning light with promises of returning soon.

Amara wondered what the island girl had planned. She suspected their earlier tryst was only a prelude to the sensual rituals of her people. Amara felt herself flush at the thought. Never had she dreamed her scholarly quest for the Hallow Skull would lead to such tantalizing fleshly delights. And with another woman besides!

In her sheltered life in the palace libraries of Cerulean City, she had only read about the pleasures of the body in ancient texts. To experience them herself, so far from home, seemed wonderfully decadent. Amara shivered in anticipation of what mysteries the night might reveal.

Her thoughts were interrupted by softly echoing footsteps. Amara sat up on her bed of moss as Hiwana entered the cavern, wearing only a belt of woven reeds about her slim hips. The island girl smiled coyly, swaying her hips as she approached. In each hand, she bore items crafted from smooth grey wood.

Amara’s curiosity deepened as Hiwana knelt to lay the objects on the stone floor with reverent care. One was a drinking bowl filled with viscous crimson liquid that gave off a heady, exotic aroma. The other was an elegantly carved phallus, realistically modelled and polished to a sensual sheen.

“I have prepared sacred Maiden’s Wine, as taught by our ancestors,” Hiwana explained. “Drink and your mind will open to visions of what you seek.”

Amara lifted the bowl experimentally. The feminine scent of berries mingled potently with undertones of musk and minerals. Her scholarly instincts were piqued.

“This wine holds ancient magic,” she thought.

Hiwana offered encouragement, so Amara took a sip. The liquid was thick and rich, seeming to blossom on her tongue. Warmth spread through her veins, kindling a smouldering fire in her core. Amara’s lips parted in a sigh of pleasure. She quickly drained the rest of the bowl.

“Now you are ready.” Hiwana took up the carved phallus in both hands, caressing its length. Amara felt suddenly empty and aching at the sight, her cheeks flushed with building heat.

Hiwana moved closer, trailing the polished tip of the phallus up the inside of Amara’s thigh. Amara’s legs parted helplessly, moistness slickening her nether lips. With exquisite care, Hiwana slid the carved member halfway into Amara’s slick entrance, then stopped. Amara groaned in frustration, trying to press her hips upward, but Hiwana held her firmly in place.

“Patience, sister.” Hiwana kept one hand on the phallus while the other massaged Amara’s pearl in slow circles. “Focus only on sensation.”

Amara closed her eyes, surrendering to the drugged bliss flowing through her. Hiwana continued her unhurried ministrations until Amara was panting and dripping. Finally, when desperation overcame her, Hiwana thrust the phallus fully into Amara’s clenching depths.

Amara cried out at the exquisite fullness, wrapping her legs around the girl to pull her deeper still. Hiwana began a rhythmic stroking that soon had Amara writhing and begging for more. At the peak of ecstasy, Amara seemed to leave her body behind, floating disembodied across a wine-dark sea. Visions swirled around her in the gloom.

She glimpsed a crumbling temple silhouetted against a full moon...a silver chalice inscribed with erotic symbols...a cave mouth gaping hungrily in a sheer cliff face...then finally, a human skull wrought from black stone. Crimson light blazed in its eye sockets as it spun slowly before her.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

The Hallow Skull! Amara was certain of it. But before she could grasp the vision, a jolt of pleasure brought her crashing back into her body. Hiwana held the slick phallus deep inside Amara, grinning down wickedly as she trembled and spasmed.

“Your climax was very...energetic, sister.”

Amara laughed breathlessly. “All thanks to you, clever girl. And your magic unlocked visions of the Skull!”

Eagerly she described what she had seen. Hiwana’s eyes widened.

“The cliffside cave must be the lost grotto of the pleasure goddess! That is where we will find this treasure.” The girl danced in excitement, making Amara smile.

“Now we have our heading,” Amara agreed. “Though the perils will be great. Rhys yet seeks me, and he is not the only enemy.”

Hiwana waved this concern away. “The village will aid you, sister. And I will convince Nirali to let me journey with you.”

Amara smiled, warmed by the offer even as she worried for the girl’s safety. She had her mission, but now felt burgeoning affection for this kind and cunning islander. A worthy companion for the trials ahead.

They slept curled together that night, Hiwana’s limbs entwined with hers. Amara dreamed of a shifting black skull wreathed in rosy mists, calling seductively...beckoning her onward through the veil of sleep.

Dawn’s light found them embarking from the village’s sandy cove in a swift outrigger canoe. Hiwana grasped the single steering oar, guiding them north between jungle islets. Fish leapt glittering around them as they skimmed across the calm turquoise waters. Amara still wore only strips of simple cloth, feeling the sun and spray kissing her bare skin. After a lifetime in heavy city silks, this island freedom was a revelation.

They followed the rugged coast for some hours before Hiwana steered them toward a secluded strand sheltered by palms. “We must go carefully here,” she cautioned. “This marks the border of Rhys’s domain.”

Amara peered warily at the dense tree line as they dragged the canoe onto the beach. The tide was rising, so they would need to move quickly. She started to lead the way inland but Hiwana caught her arm, halting her.

“Trap snare,” the girl warned, pointing. A nearly invisible vine stretched taut across their path. Amara made a mental note to tread with more care. Island living had clearly honed Hiwana’s woodcraft.

“We should scout inland first, to get the lay of the land,” Hiwana suggested. Amara agreed it was wise. They moved slowly into the trees, alert for any sound or movement. Hiwana seemed to read the jungle’s language as easily as Amara did ancient scrolls. She silently indicated areas of quicksand or deceitful footing. Amara followed her lead, trusting the girl’s instincts completely.

Before long they reached higher ground that afforded a view between the leafy canopy. In the distance, Amara saw a grey stone fortress perched atop a promontory. The walls were lined with spear tips, and pirates swarmed its courtyard even at this hour.

“Rhys’s stronghold, the Ferox,” Hiwana whispered. “He rules these islands with terror and cruelty.” Anger hardened her delicate features.

Amara studied the impressive fortifications. “Breaching those walls would require an army. Or a great mage.”

“Like yourself, sister.” Hiwana flashed her a bold smile. “When the treasure is yours, your power will be beyond even Rhys’s evil magic!”

Privately Amara wondered if even the Hallow Skull would be enough to overcome the Relentless One on his home ground. But she appreciated the girl’s faith in her. However daunting the odds, she must persist. The world’s very balance might hinge on it.

They stole back through the jungle without incident and shoved off as the tide came in. Amara reclined languidly across the canoe’s bow, trailing one hand in the sea as Hiwana paddled them ever northward. She decided the risk of discovery was low here in open waters. Let the arrogant brute keep watching his precious fort walls!

By late afternoon they reached a small fishing village tucked away in a sandy cove of the Jade Isle. Hiwana explained these were her mother’s kin, and would aid them. The people here looked much like Hiwana, with rich brown skin and lustrous black hair. Amara again felt a surge of joy at the freedom of her near-naked state. After a lifetime contained in constricting city silks, to bare her form felt deliciously wanton.

The villagers welcomed them with fresh fruit and coconut milk. Amara was eager to press onward, but Hiwana urged her to rest and gather strength. In truth she was weary, so she relented. They slept in a palm-thatched hut, lulled by the murmur of waves.