The Lay of the Eastern Sun and the Western Moon: Book I
by T. Prince, tk_prince@hotmail.se
Following the War of the Three Swords, a much larger conflict seems imminent.


HISTORIAN'S FOREWORD:

The following, hitherto unknown Chinese epic was discovered in an ancient jade urn, tucked 
away in the basement of a very old Tibetan fortress. The story takes place some time after 
the events described in the Tale of the Three Swords, and the use of certain recurring themes
and motifs suggest that both texts may have been written by the same unknown poet. However, 
while the historicity of the Tale of the Three Swords has been mostly confirmed, this particular 
text is so densely packed with mythological and magical content that it cannot reasonably be 
accepted as anything other than pure fiction. And yet, archaeologists around the world have 
become sufficiently intrigued by this bizarre alternate history to have launched an extensive 
investigation into whether anything at all in the story might rest on a factual basis. This
collaborative research project has been termed "Project Chrysanthemum", and its first findings
are expected to be published in early 2019. What will the results show? Time alone will tell.

Again, we have consulted the famous writer of lesbian erotica Mei Minling to rework the
ancient text into a story more suitable for modern tastes. The Lay of the Eastern Sun and
the Western Moon has been released in thirty-two countries at the time of writing, most 
of them in Asia. It was also released in Europe and the United States, but strangely
enough, it did not sell very well.

Professor Ba Liang,
Beijing University


THE LAY OF THE WESTERN SUN AND THE EASTERN MOON

Book I

It was morning on Earth, and a glorious redness bloomed across the heavens,
as the great dragon of the East appeared like a crimson bolt just off the corner
of Saturn, having completed its urgent business on the Astral Plane. Soaring
through the aether at superluminal speeds, the ageless being was serenely
contemplating the ultimate truth of the universe when it heard an ominous
noise from somewhere in the cosmos: trumpets of war.

And these were not just any trumpets -- the mere sound of them seemed to
rattle even the planets themselves in their fixed course. Deeply troubled,
the dragon made a full turn and set off in the direction of the sound,
determined not to stop until its origin had been found.

Somewhere in the outer stratosphere (above the great Western continent of Europe, 
to be exact), two titanic clouds parted to reveal the cause of the commotion. There, 
arranged on a vast pink cloud, stood a legion of otherworldly humanoids -- each of
them sprouting a pair of white avian wings from their backs -- facing a
golden throne. All the beings were women and of discernible Western ethnicity,
but they seemed to exude some innate grace and power that made it clear that 
they were not (nor had they even been) human. Indeed, they seemed rather to
be some embodiment of a (Western) human ideal: all of them were stately and
tall, with powerful limbs and erect carriage, and yet their bodies were
curvy and feminine enough to put Venus herself to shame.

The dragon knew that these were 'angels', and specifically, the angels of
a young and tyrannical Western deity known in Europe as "the Goddess of Light" --
the being seated on the golden throne.

While the trumpets continued to sound in aggressive bursts, the dragon
hid in a nearby cloud and inspected the otherworldly army more closely.
Although heavenly beings, these angels had none of the distant wisdom in their
eyes that the dragon associated with the truly celestial -- instead they
wore proud and disdainful looks on their fair-skinned faces. Even their
armour bespoke an inordinate pride in their physical perfection: shunning
the typical breastplate, each angel instead wore only a diminutive metal
"bikini" -- each made of some unbreakable cosmic alloy -- which barely
seemed able to contain their imposing busts or swaying, hypnotizing curves.

The dragon now turned its gaze upon the distant throne, where the Goddess
sat. After its weary, ancient eyes had accustomed themselves to the light
emanating from her body, a form finally appeared in the brightness. The
Goddess was a giant of a being -- more than twenty feet tall -- and so beauti-
ful that the clouds themselves seemed to orbit around her, transfixed.
And yet her beauty was somehow cold and severe, like a lovely landscape
frozen and hardened by a deep winter. Her hair was lustrous gold, her lips 
red like blood and her eyes a cool, penetrating aquamarine, while her beaming 
white garments (which were made of pure aether) enveloped her voluptuous frame
and titanic, flawless breasts to their best advantage. The Goddess sat with 
perfect erect carriage and her knees pressed tightly together, surveying her 
soldiers with a look of infinite vanity and haughtiness.

"Neptunia, Mercuria, come forward," the goddess bellowed, her enormous
voice dwarfing even the sound of the trumpets.

Two of her angels appeared in front of the legion, and stood facing their
ruler. The first angel had long, silver-colored hair, chilly emerald eyes 
and wore a form of leotard that seemed to be made entirely out of mother-of-
pearl. The second had cascading reddish-blond hair, eyes of burnished gold
and wore a similar garment that seemed to be made of spun amber. Never was
the principle of "fire and ice" better illustrated than here: Neptunia
seemed cold enough to freeze summer, whereas Mercuria was positively bursting
with red-hot fervour.

"The time has come. Neptunia, I want you to pay a visit to each of rulers
of the Western continent, to whom you shall announce the news that Asia will
soon be theirs, and that they must begin preparations to depart at once.
Mercuria, you shall visit each of the rulers of the Eastern continent and
deliver the message that my forces are coming and that any resistance is
futile."

The two angels bowed to their ruler, and then dove gracefully through the
clouds towards the Earth. Here, the dragon found it opportune to intervene.

"If I may," the ancient creature thundered across the cloudy realm, causing
every head in the angelic legion to turn toward it in alarm, "what you
have just initiated, oh young and thoughtless *goddess*, will have dire
consequences for the balance of the universe. According to laws set down
before either you or I existed, divine beings are not allowed to meddle
in the affairs of mortals."

"Is that so, *dragon*?" the Goddess boomed in response, rising from her
throne. "Then what do you call *your* actions in that accursed War of the
Three Swords, as I hear it is referred to in the books of your favored people? 
Was that not meddling of the highest order?"

"That was *guidance*, which deities have imparted to their followers since the 
dawn of time. And if you happen to be referring to the incident on the Misty
Isles, it was merely a pre-emptive strike against an attempt to create a portal 
to a dangerous nether realm. What you are engaged in is an *invasion*, and you
know what that will entail. Every measure of light requires an equal
measure of darkness to counteract it..."

"I will not be drawn into a tedious philosophical argument! From Eastern
"unity" and "balance" comes paralysis and inertia. But through Western
combat and striving, light shall be made to conquer darkness and destroy
it forever!"

"And what good will come of that?" the dragon sneered. "Light requires
darkness to exist, and vice versa. Your emphasis on conquering and destroying 
only masks the truth that you, who call yourself "light" and the "darkness"
which you fight are only the opposite sides of the same coin! You call
yourself good, but you are as power-hungry and remorseless as your enemies
in the Abyss!"

"Enough! Your gospel of neutrality is hollow and meaningless! Angels, chase 
this ghost of fat-headed Eastern indifference back to where it came from!"

At her command, the angels readied their bows and fired a volley of burning
arrows at the dragon, who turned rapidly around and set off toward Earth,
pursued by the hailstorm of blazing projectiles.

"Very well," the dragon mused to itself, criss-crossing through miles upon
miles of pink cumulus clouds to shake off its pursuers, "I can see that
sterner measures are needed here..."

***

Wu Datian, the youngest priestess to tend the sacred shrine on Tiger Mountain,
had just finished meditating in the serene morning air, when a rustling noise
came upon her. She looked around but could find no cause of it -- in the East,
the bamboo forests swayed gently in the cool breeze, and in the West, the great
lake lay silent.

"That's strange," she said to herself, "it sounded just like a-"

Before she had time to finish her sentence, two great talons grabbed hold of
her shoulders and carried her off into the sky. Shocked, the priestess attempted
to wriggle out of her entrapment, but as they gained altitude, she quickly
realized that any further attempt to do so would spell her doom.

"What is going on?" she cried, aghast.

"Fear not, Wu Datian, I am your friend," a calm, immeasurably wise voice replied
from above. "Furthermore, I have good reasons for abducting you so suddenly.
In due time, I will explain everything, but right now, we cannot afford to lose
another second."

The voice of the dragon soothed the priestess, but even then, she thought that
she could detect a note of worry in its voice, which quickly caused a new, more
profound worry to seize hold of her: what terrible event could possibly be so
significant as to frighten even a dragon?

***

The venerable empress had just been alerted that strange celestial phenomena 
had been observed on the Western sky, when a blinding light filled the throne 
room, causing almost the entire court to cower in fear. Suddenly, a human form 
appeared in the midst of the light: it was a woman of superhuman size, whom the 
light seemed to cling to like clothing. Once the light had dimmed to a more 
tolerable level, the woman's features could be discerned more clearly. She had 
a marvelous full-figured body, a perfect cherubic face and carried a flaming rod 
in her right hand.

"Mortals of the East!" the being boomed, "For your transgressions against the 
chosen nations of the true Goddess, you have been selected for annihilation. Any 
resistance is futile. Your lands, your people, your palaces and gardens, and your 
false idols -- all shall be dust before this year has passed."

"Wh-what is going on!?" a courtier asked. "Wh-who... wh-what are you?"

"I am but an emissary of the Goddess of the Evening Redness, who has passed a 
sentence on your puny civilization and deemed it unworthy of existing."

"Guards! To arms!" the captain of the guard bellowed.

"No! No violence! I command you-" the old empress began, but it was too late.

The glowing being raised her rod, and soon thereafter, the whole universe seemed 
to collapse into darkness. A tremendous wave of energy passed outwards from the 
otherworldly visitor's body, which tore through everything in its path -- courtiers, 
pillars, walls and ceiling -- until the Hall of Supreme Harmony had been reduced to 
a field of charred rubble. All around, courtiers and guards alike lay littered on 
the ground, their bodies deprived of both consciousness and most (if not all) of 
their clothing. The captain of the guard remained standing for a brief moment, 
until her blackened armour fell apart like bread into crumbs and she toppled over 
with a soft groan, landing on her face and mooning the sky with her upturned bare 
bottom. The empress was nowhere in sight.

Pleased, the angel laughed imperiously before clothing herself with her light and 
flying off toward her homeworld.

***

The flight could not have lasted longer than a minute, and yet when she descended
through the clouds again, the priestess did not recognize any of the lands beneath
her. Arid red deserts stretched off in every direction, and directly in their course
was a mountain so fantastically tall that it seemed to reach halfway toward the sun 
itself.

"Where are we going?" the priestess asked, blinded by the fiery sun that seemed to
hover almost immediately above her.

"To the Mountain Between Heaven and Earth," the dragon replied, "it is a cosmically
neutral realm. You will be safe there."

Before she had time to reply, Datian found herself set down on the mountain's peak.
She looked around, and nearly fainted with awe. The view was indescribable -- it 
seemed like she could somehow observe every single location on Earth, and even some 
that lay beyond it!

"Stunning, isn't it?" a woman's voice asked nearby.

The priestess turned around and found herself face to face with a woman in full
samurai garb. The woman seemed to be a few years older than herself, and exuded a
rugged, experienced beauty. She wore her hair in a waist-length black ponytail,
and her eyes radiated a quick and fiery intelligence.

"Wu Datian, this is Tomoe, from the island of Japan," the dragon said. "She is
a swordmaster and a descendant of the goddess Amaterasu. Like you, she has been
selected for a task of cosmic import."

"I-" the priestess began, feeling a bit faint. "I'm sorry, this is... this is all
just happening so fast."

"As I said, time is of the essence. If we do not act quickly, it will be too late.
Priestess, swordmaster -- look at the Western sky and tell me what you see."

The priestess turned around. The sky seemed to be ablaze with the colors of sunrise
-- red, pink and gold -- but, all things considered, this did not seem a very spec-
tacular sight compared to most of what she was currently witnessing.

"A beautiful sunrise," the priestess replied, "but nothing out of the ordinary."

"Look closer," the dragon commanded.

She did as she was told. Indeed, there was something strange about the cloud formations
around the sun. A thick golden beam was forming a kind of bridge between the center
of the sunrise and the earth, and after looking for quite a long time, she began to
discern tiny dots moving down along the glowing beam.

"A portal to heaven!" she cried.

"Let me correct you," the dragon promptly replied, "what you are looking at is merely a
portal to ONE out of many heavenly realms, and one which happens to be less deserving of
the epithet than most. The realm that you see is the realm of a young and arrogant goddess 
whose real name is Aurora, but who insists on her followers referring to her as "the Goddess". 
She is worshipped in many places on the Western continent, and in return for this worship, 
she tends to bestow great fortune upon the peoples of Europe. This is the reason why the 
West is so successful in its military campaigns -- or at least WAS, until very recently."

"Until the War of the Three Swords," Tomoe interjected.

"Exactly. The humiliation that the West suffered in that expensive war caused support for
the goddess to plummet, and now their vain deity is hungry to regain her former status."

"They're not... mounting another military campaign, are they?" Datian asked nervously.

"They may or may not be. But that would hardly matter, because something far worse has 
already happened. The goddess and her angels have descended to earth to subdue the East 
themselves."

"W-what?" the priestess stammered. "That... cannot be true!"

"Unfortunately, it is. The goddess Aurora is violating a cosmic law that forbids gods
from meddling in the affairs of men, and it will have unintended consequences for her,
as well as for the whole universe. You see, the universe consists of a carefully weighed
balance between opposites, between yin and yang, night and day, as well as light and darkness.
Aurora and her followers foolishly believe that their "light" can stamp out all the darkness
in the universe. What she does not realize is that everything that happens must be followed
by an equal counterreaction -- therefore, any "light" that she brings into the terrestrial
realm must be compensated for with darkness."

"Which means-" Tomoe began. "No, that is impossible."

"I am afraid it is not. Any day, a portal to her antagonist realm -- one of the many hells
in the universe -- will be opened, and darkness will run rampant upon the earth. The cosmos
is always looking to establish an equilibrium, and this equilibrium requires one demon for
each angel... and one Devil for each Goddess..."

"But that will be... the end of the world as we know it!"

"Yes, it could well be. But there is a way to stop it. I sense a stirring in the nether planes,
which means that the time will soon be right for us to act."

***

The imperial army, under the leadership of the battle-hardened general Long, had just scaled
a particularly steep hill when the front lines stopped dead in their tracks. On another hill,
not far ahead, an enormous black silhouette could be traced out against the fiery red sky.
An aura of infinite malice seemed to be radiating directly from this silhouette, which was
the shape of a giant, exceedingly voluptuous woman, twenty feet tall, standing with her back 
turned to the army. From her back, two horrific black bats' wings were protruding and beating 
calmly around her, and just above her particularly round and shapely derriere, a thick lizard-
like tail could be made out. But most disturbingly of all, two giant rams' horns adorned her
head, and curled themselves around her ears in a manner that struck fear into the hearts of
even the most withered soldiers.

"General, what... what do we do?"

General Long hesitated, staring for a long time at the bizarre apparition. "This must surely be
a fiend of some kind." She looked down into the ground. "Although every nerve in my body advises
against it, we have no option but to attack it."

"General-"

"You heard my order. Fire!"

The archers in the front line obeyed, and within seconds, a hailstorm of arrows descended upon 
the menacing figure. However, long before the arrows could reach their target, each and every one
of them caught fire and burnt out like a cluster of shooting stars.

"This cannot be!" the general cried, feeling the need to hold on to a nearby soldier to avoid 
falling to her knees in terror.

Shortly thereafter, an unnaturally loud, husky female voice echoed through the valley, its 
excessive volume and strangely sinister quality almost causing the entire army to flee on the spot.

"Oh, puny ants of the East," the voice boomed, its authority tinged with an almost irresistibly
seductive femininity. "What's the matter? Did your hearts lose the will to fight? Did your
arrows lose their sting? Then put down your arms and listen to my song, for it will tell you
much about what will soon befall you and your world."

Suddenly, it seemed like the sun had grown so faint that the whole world had been plunged
into darkness. The massive figure began to dance, swaying her curves in hypnotizingly undulating
movements, while a strange, seductive music began to emanate out of nowhere.

Almost at once, as if compelled by some sinister force beyond their reckoning, the Eastern soldiers 
dropped their arms and fell to their knees, transfixed by the dance of the beautiful demon in front
of them. Suddenly, the otherworldly entity began to sing, with a voice that appeared eerily to
consist of two voices -- one bright and one darker and more menacing -- chanting in unison:

"Mortals, hear my words and heed them well: 
I am Stygia, arch-demoness of the Six Pits,
and future ruler of the Earth.
I have come here to wage fiery war
against my sworn enemy the goddess Aurora,
and in order to so,
I must first subjugate all of humankind,
from the place where the sun rises in the East,
to the place where the sun sets in the West.
But do not despair, for I am a demon of pleasure,
although that pleasure is often mixed
with equal parts pain,
and I am a demon of the carnal body,
who will awaken urges within you that
that you did not know existed,
and when I crack my whip of pleasure
over your naked, prostrate bodies,
you will be begging me for a reprieve
and then beg me to continue,
because your enjoyment will at once be
intolerable
and intolerable to live without.
This, mortals of the East, is your future,
tomorrow and for all coming time."

With those last words, the music came to a sudden stop. The demoness turned around, exposing
for the first time her front -- immediately, a chorus of gasps and murmurs erupted, as the
sight was equal parts terrifying and desperately alluring. Stygia was an impossibly well-
shaped giant with ghostly reddish-pink skin and unmistakably Caucasian features. Her face
was goddess-like in its perfection, and yet possessed with enough carnal instinct and malicious
energy to indicate that it belonged to anything but a goddess. Her jet-black hair fell down over
her titanic breasts in rippling waves, and her blood-red eyes burned with low-intensity hellish
embers. In terms of clothing, she was practically naked: only a tiny black thong of Tartarian
iron and a pair of pentagrams that only just covered her nipples separated her from complete
nudity.

"Behold my body, mortals," the demoness purred. "Behold the hellish perfection of my breasts
and my face, for they will be the only gospel you will know."

"Blasphemy!" a soldier in the back line stammered, but her voice was drowned out by the
simmering of seduced whispers among the other soldiers. The demoness' charm was working its
wonders with immediate effect.

"I will tear down your temples and your holy places, and replace them with monuments to the
body and the flesh. I will make you sacrifice your most beautiful virgins in my honor, and
inaugurate endless festivals where I will make you scream with pain and pleasure. But that
is far in the future. First, I will make your world a bit more... habitable to me."

As the sky grew black as slowly burning coal, flames began to snake their way out of the ground
until it seemed like the whole earth was on fire. Their hypnotized submission turning quickly
into panic, the soldiers began to scatter in all directions, screaming and crying, while general
Long did her best to keep as much of a fraction of them together.

The demoness cackled maniacally at the sight, just before disappearing in a ball of flame,
leaving only fire and torment behind.

***

Faster than a hurricane, the dragon came roaring through the atmosphere, leaving a
trail of fire in its wake. Tomoe and Datian hung on best they could, and any attempts
to communicate between them were drowned out in the cacaphony of noise around them.

Finally, a grassy hill appeared in front of them. In the span of a few seconds, the
dragon decreased its speed to a leisurely pace, and then promptly set down its cargo
on the hill.

"So the carnage has begun," the dragon muttered. It did not take long for the
passengers to understand what it was referring to. Beyond the hill lay a charred,
blackened landscape where nothing had been left standing. Huge, jet black pillars of
smoke lined the horizon, and flashes of fire were visible at regular intervals.

"Who did this?" Datian asked, feeling faint with dejection.

"The goddess, the demoness, or both," the dragon replied. "Most likely, this was merely
collateral damage in their fight against each other."

"My country... this used to be my country," Datian cried, falling to her knees. "How
did we ever get to this point? How was this allowed to happen? Is there no justice in
the universe?"

"Patience, Datian," the dragon said gently. "There is still hope for your people, as
well as for Tomoe's."

"Is there?" Tomoe asked, nonchalantly kicking a charred rock out of the way. "If I
have assessed our situation correctly, you will not be helping us in this battle. So
that means that Datian and I are up against the combined armies of a goddess and a
demoness. How do you expect us not to despair?"

"Tomoe," the dragon said, and a chilly note had crept into its voice, "This is not
the War of the Three Swords. The situation has changed, and I intend to summon a
meeting in the Astral Plane to see what can be done to stop the goddess and her
adversary from tearing your world asunder. But the wheels of celestial bureaucracy
grind slowly, and for the time being, you two will have to hold down the fort."

"How, exactly?" Tomoe asked, still skeptical.

"Remember that the laws of the cosmos allow only for opposite forces of identical size
to enter the Material Plane. This means that the armies of the goddess and the demoness
will, at this point in time, be perfectly matched in terms of power."

Suddenly, a light seemed to dawn on Tomoe. "So we stay in the middle and play both
sides against each other. That could work. But the question remains... How do we avoid
being killed as soon as we show up on the battlefield?"

"I will provide you with weapons that will last you through the first battles, although
they will not win you the war. For that, you will need help that I cannot at present
promise you."

Datian looked down. A small jade-and-gold rod had appeared in her hand, its head wrought into
the shape of a phoenix. Similarly, Tomoe found herself equipped with an extraordinarily long
katana, whose blade seemed to be glowing with strange and otherworldly powers.

"Use them well, but stay on the defensive. No mortal has ever gone up against enemies of the 
stature that you are now facing -- if you challenge them head-on, you will be annihilated.
Your only hope is to play them off against each other at every turn," the dragon said, its
voice weary with pessismism. "If you deviate from this path, the world, as we know it, will
probably end."

"When will we see you again?" Datian asked.

"That I cannot answer. For once, the future is shrouded in secrecy, even to my eyes,"
the dragon said grimly, as it took off with a flap of its mighty wings. Datian and
Tomoe followed its course through the skies until it had disappeared behind a cloud.

"Well, we'd best get going," Datian said. "We have a long march ahead."

As the two began their long and mournful march, a curious change appeared in the world around
them. Suddenly, it seemed as if the wind had stopped blowing, and the clouds had stopped moving
in the sky. Next, an oppressive shadow seemed to fall upon everything, like an invisible storm
cloud.

"I don't know what's happening, but it isn't good," Tomoe mumbled, tightening her grip around
the handle of her sword.

The next moment, the world seemed to dissolve before their eyes, leaving them suspended in an
infinite darkness. A few moments passed, and then a small gleam of gold appeared in the distance,
growing steadily larger.

"What now?" Tomoe remarked in a hushed voice that seemed to betray her fear. "Can it really be 
the dragon returning so soon?"

"That, Tomoe, is not a dragon," Datian replied, staring transfixed at the growing light.

It most assuredly was not. The golden dot rapidly grew into a gigantic humanoid -- a twenty-foot 
tall Western woman of such mesmerizing size and beauty that the two warriors couldn't decide whether
to drop their guard or maintain it even more carefully. The radiant being strode forward confidently 
and seductively, swaying her titanic hips from side to side as her dazzling white clothing billowed
all around her. The ethereal being stopped in front of the Eastern warriors and remained
floating there, bathing them in her light.

Soon, Datian and Tomoe were struck with the feeling that whatever situation they now found
themselves in was far beyond their power to control. The ageless being in front of them seemed
to radiate an aura of such fathomless power and grandeur that their own resolves seemed to
dissipate in a flow of comfortable warm surrender.

"Who are you that intrude upon my realm with weapons tainted with unsanctioned magics from the
Eastern heavens?" the goddess intoned in a voice which was like a hundred Aeolian harps singing in 
unison. "Speak."

"Oh, radiant goddess," Datian found herself saying, without knowing why or where her words were
coming from. "The dragon of the East imbued us with this power, which we are now wielding against
angels and demons alive, seeking to turn them against each other for our own gain."

"Datian!" Tomoe cried, fighting to withstand the goddess' magical aura with the last of her energy.
"Don't- give in!!"

"That is what I suspected," the goddess replied, turning around to peer into the distant heavens
with her interdimensional sight. "The dragon has a foolhardy commitment to maintaining neutrality
on earth. It must be stopped... eventually."

"Not if... we can... help it!!" Tomoe cried between gritted teeth, before the aura of the other-
worldly being overpowered her last defenses. She suddenly found herself embraced by the golden
deity, who was staring down at her with what seemed like a smile of infinite wisdom and benevolence.

"Why are you resisting, my wayward Eastern child? I am Aurora, goddess of the Morning Realm, mother of
Western civilization. I rule your pitiful world now, and like the rest of your kin, you must submit."

Tomoe's efforts to resist were futile. Almost immediately, she lost herself in the soft golden
infinity of the goddess's kind gaze, and consented to place her head upon her massive, willowy
bosom. Like a docile child, she wanted nothing more than to drink the milk of this morning goddess's
heavenly breasts and be lulled into submission by her ageless voice.

"That is better, child," the goddess said gently as she stroke Tomoe's hair. "Now, will you obey my
will?"

"Yes, goddess," Tomoe replied, her voice steely and impersonal.

"I thought so. Now rise and prepare for battle, champions Datian and Tomoe." The Eastern heroes gasped
when they discovered that bright golden wings had sprouted from their backs. "With the combined powers 
of the meddling Eastern deities and the powers of light, we should be able to win a decisive victory 
against the Arch-Demoness... once and for all."

She leaned forward and kissed Datian on the forehead. Upon feeling the heavenly lips touch her skin,
the Chinese warrior felt herself overcome with an unbeatable feeling of superiority. Was this how
all followers of the goddess felt? How much she had missed by following her passive Eastern creed!
This was the true way -- and Datian was a zealot burning with passionate conviction.

Suddenly, the two Easterners found themselves floating above what seemed to be a massive formation
of perfect white cumulus clouds. The sudden brightness stung their eyes, and it took nearly a minute
for them to accustom their eyesight, but once they had, they saw that they were surrounded by winged
women, beaming at them with gentle smiles.

"What... is happening?" Datian murmured drowsily.

"Well met," a warm, summery voice greeted them from behind. "I am Solania, general of the legion of
light." A towering, opal-skinned angel strode up to the new recruits, enveloping them in her peace-
ful aura. Solania was at least nine feet tall; a massive perfectly-built Venus with cascading golden
hair and luminous sapphire eyes, wearing a platinum breastplate and what looked like a pair of
armored diamond panties. "I will be leading you to battle against the wicked hordes of the arch-demoness
Stygia."

Tomoe, although still under the spell of the goddess, must have maintained a stronger sense of in-
dividuality than her friend, because before she had time to stop herself she managed to blurt out:
"I don't take orders from some flying, half-dressed harlot."

Datian darted a horrified look at her friend, but Solania took the provocation in good spirits. In
fact, she only broke into tinkling, melodical laughter before continuing gently: "I take it that you
are unaccustomed to the creed of the goddess of light. Do not worry -- I was expecting you to be.
You see, unlike other heavenly dimensions, the realm of the Goddess of Light is a place where we take 
pride and pleasure in our bodies. Since the Goddess of Light is our creator, having fashioned us all 
from pure aether, we treasure every curve and every line in our bodies -- and show them off to the 
world as often as we can!" The angel made a little pirouette, showing off her perfect, glistening 
body from every angle. "In every hair, every breast and every pore, we see the signature of our loving 
designer!"

"You are indeed... very beautiful," Datian said, her voice still an eerie monotone.

"You are beautiful too, friend Datian, now that the goddess has shone her favor upon you," Solania
said, caressing Datian's face. "Now, you must prepare to follow my legion into battle. The arch-demoness
is more powerful during the night, and therefore we must launch our attack well before sunset."

As Solania turned to address her angelic soldiers, Tomoe discreetly pulled Datian's arm,
whispering: "Datian... surely you understand that this is all a terrible mistake."

"What are you talking about?" Datian replied, flashing a misty-eyed smile. "We are doing the will of
the Goddess of Light! What could be better?"

"Datian, snap out of it!" Tomoe slapped her in the face. "You're under enchantment! These are not
your real thoughts!"

Datian stared back at her friend with utter incomprehension in her eyes. After a moment, her eyes
seemed to regain some of their previous clarity.

"It's all terribly confusing," she said, rubbing her cheek. "But I have an overwhelming feeling that
what we're doing... is the only thing that is right!"

"But we're helping the enemy!" Tomoe snapped. "If we defeat the demoness, what do you think is going
to happen? Do you think these bird-women will just dash off back to their native world and leave us all
in peace? No, they're here to stay!"

"Maybe you're right," Datian replied, looking thoughtful. "But the Goddess is a force for good! Think
of the way she spoke to us... with such kindness and understanding. Surely you'd rather help her out
than her enemy?"

A trumpet burst interrupted the Easterners' conversation. Turning her heads to the sky, they saw that
the angels were beckoning them forward -- to battle. Tomoe swallowed. This was not the time to give
away their suspicions. With their heads bent meekly downwards, the Easterners flew off to join the
ranks of Solania's angels, half-blinded by the brilliant sun which seemed to dissolve the shapes and
contours of the latter.

***

On the border between East and West, there stands a vast, dark forest that has been allowed to
grow freely since the ancient days. The treetops form a thick, black canopy through which
light penetrates only with great difficulty, and in its cavern-like interior dwell many monsters 
and ancient animals that man have never laid eyes on.

Every night since the outbreak between the realms of light and shadow, this ancient forest
had been alive with rustlings and echoes, eerie sounds and menacing voices. Here, in the
heart of the untamed hinterlands, followers of the demoness Stygia had set up their Western 
dominion, and were seducing followers to her malevolent cause.

In a shady clearing, the Nightmistress Selena stood on the knotted trunk of an ancient
oak, addressing the disciples of her unholy religion. The Nightmistress was a tall and
beautiful woman, but her beauty seemed to be somehow tainted by some sickly corruption
of the soul. She was pale as a ghost, with demonic grey eyes and a thick mane of jet black
hair that reached down to her ankles. Like all high priestesses of the demoness, she wore
no more than an embroidered purple breechcloth that just about covered her womanhood (but
left the majority of her pert, snow white buttocks on display) and a thin sash that covered her
breasts.

"Lovers of the Demoness," she began, raising the sultry voice over the din of the forest,
"let us celebrate the ascent of our lustful queen by, as always, indulging in our deepest and 
darkest desires until daybreak!"

With those words, she stepped down from her oak and walked along the crowd of her roaring
followers, allowing them to touch and grope her body as she walked. Men and women alike were
mad with unleashed desire, reaching out to fondle her round, pale breasts, caress her crotch
or squeeze her ripe buttocks, and as soon as she had passed them, they turned around to
kiss and caress each other with the same unlimited sexual appetite.

Soon, the whole clearing was filled with the grunting and screaming of sex of the most primitive
and debased kind. The Nightmistress, pleased with the ritual, walked back to her oak and
continued speaking, oblivious to the fact that most of her followers were no longer listening:

"And now, the nightly initiation rites!" She clapped her hands, signaling to a line of women
standing by in the shadows. "The demoness has decreed that these loyal followers are to be
declared Dread Champions of her cause. Come forward, followers, for your initiation."

The group of women came forward into the weak light of the torches and bonfires, and at the
Nightmistress's signal, they all let their cloaks drop, leaving their pale bodies naked and 
gleaming in the torchlight.

"Step forward, disciple Rowena," the Nightmistress commanded.

The first woman, a sullen-looking black-haired beauty with a body as curvaceous as it was pale,
stepped forward and allowed herself to be inspected. The dark priestess made an appreciative
noise before running her hands down the naked woman's curves and feeling her up in every
imaginable way.

"You are Rowena the Black, champion of the ill-fated War of the Three Swords?"

"Yes, Nightmistress," the naked follower replied submissively.

The priestess turned her around and let her finger trace the contour of her delectable, heart-
shaped backside. "You have a gorgeous body, follower Rowena. The Demoness approves. If she were 
here, she would surely suck your big, beautiful breasts and flog your marvelous buttocks in 
person."

"That would be a true honor," Rowena replied submissively.

"But as she is not here, I will perform the initiation rite in her place. Bend over, follower
Rowena, and show your beautiful ass to the crowd."

The naked woman did as she was told, and the appearance of her upturned round rump drew catcalls
and lewd comments from male and female followers alike.

"Mmm, beautiful," the Nightmistress purred as she picked up a paddle that she kept nearby: an
iron impleement with gothic thorns and two horns protruding from the top. "Now, follower Rowena,
are you prepared to be spanked in the name of the demoness, the queen of your lusts and the
true owner of your tits and your ass?"

"Yes!" Rowena cried out.

"Then accept your spanking." With those words, the priestess began to lash the iron paddle against
the dark-haired woman's upturned rear in rhythm with the music. For every spank, Rowena wailed out
a declaration of her allegiance to the demoness, while the crowd cackled and roared with pleasure.
When the spanking was over, and Rowena's quivering buttocks were blushing with the mark of demonic
approval, the Nightmistress placed her hand on the black-haired woman's chin.

"Now rise, Dread Champion Rowena, and prepare for battle."

The priestess punctuated the sentence with a mischievous slap to the ex-knight's trembling rump,
drawing a little yelp from her victim. Having completed the test, Rowena walked up to a black pool
that had formed next to the oak, braced herself, and walked straight into the pool until her head
had disappeared below the surface.

The crowd held their breath, and a minute later, Rowena reemerged on the other side, no longer
naked but equipped in a suit of terrible black armor, fitted with spikes and horns from shoulders
to her feet, and with a grim-looking black sword in her hand.

The two women who were next in line approached the Nightmistress with bent heads. The first was a
full-figured beauty with pointy breasts, squinting green eyes and fiery red hair which had been 
braided into a thick ponytail that extended down to her buttocks. The second was a slender silver-
haired woman with a swan-like physique, grey eyes and a maniacal smile on her lips.

"Stop," the dark priestess said admonishingly, holding up her hand. "Let me see your faces. Ah yes."
She turned first toward the curvy redhead, who was twirling her long red ponytail around her finger
and smiling deviously. "You must be Ursula the Betrayer -- the treacherous captain who stabbed
her general in the back during the war against the Saracens?"

"The very same," the redhead replied, grinning wickedly.

"And you," the Nightmistress turned to the silver-haired woman, "are surely Irene the Mad, who burned 
down your native city and danced around the flames?"

"It was a beautiful sight," the silver-haired woman purred, closing her eyes. "My gift to the
Queen of Darkness."

"The Demoness approves of your actions. Now let us see if she approves of you in other ways. Show
me your bodies, followers Ursula and Irene."

The naked women held up their arms and spun around a few times, before Selena commanded them to
stop with their backs to the crowd. Lifting up Irene's tangled silver hair to expose her buttocks,
the Nightmistress cooed appreciatively when she saw the Mark of the Demoness branded into her
left cheek.

"Now it's your turn," Selena went on and inspected the redhead's somewhat fuller posterior. Her
initial satisfaction quickly soured when she was greeted by the sight of a perfectly unadorned
pair of ripe pink glutes.

"What is this!?" she demanded.

"F-Forgive me, Nightmistress, I d-did not know," Ursula began, her big brown eyes flashing with fear.

"Follower Ursula has not gone all the way," the Nightmistress roared to a screaming and jeering crowd.
"What say you to the proposition that we... initiate her by force?"

This suggestion was met with deafening approval, and two hooded acolytes immediately sprang up to
grab the nervous redhead and bring her squealing over to a large black wheel with chains hanging down
from its spokes.

While the long and painful "initiation" rite carried on, with Ursula the Betrayer's precious boobs, 
bush and buns paying the price tenfold for her insufficient preparations, two hooded women near the 
corner of the glade entered into a hushed conversation.

"What do you think about all this?" one of them snorted to the other.

"They're all stark raving mad, of course," the other replied. "But they could serve our purposes... 
for the time being."

"I agree, this Demoness nonsense is not going to cut in the long run. But if we could effect... a 
tiny little change of leadership..."

"Exactly what I was thinking. With one thousand assassins at our disposal, this is something that 
is easily within our reach."

Having concluded their business in the clearing, the two women pulled up their hoods and disappeared 
into the shadows of the forest, leaving the macabre ceremony to continue well into the early morning 
hours.

***

Far away, in the largest and most prosperous of the Western kingdoms, High Priestess 
Dorothea stood on the steps of the Temple of Light, addressing a crowd of thousands. 
The high priestess, who had succeeded Lady Isabel as the supreme head of the Church 
of the Goddess, was a tall, exquisitely beautiful brunette with an angelic face, high 
cheekbones and passionate green eyes. Like her predecessor, she wore the ceremonial 
garb of the high priestess: a simple white dress that did a good job of hiding her ample 
curves, as well as the golden symbol of her goddess around her neck.

"Lovers of the true Goddess," she began, extending her arms into the air for effect,
"year after year, we have looked for the signs. Now, at long last, we have witnessed
them all. The words of the Goddess are clear: the era of our ascendancy is at hand!"

The crowd erupted into deafening cheers and chants of "Praised be the Lady of Light!"
The chants grew even more ecstatic when a line of heavily armoured women formed in
front of the High Priestess, each bearing the insignia of the goddess on her massive
steel shield. These were the Knights of the Golden Lock, an elite force of nine
paladins specially trained to be the vanguard of the military operations of the faith. 
The knights were dressed in ornate silver breastplates with golden angels brandished
across their chests, knee-length chainmail skirts and winged helmets, and silver capes
that flowed behind them like eagles' wings.

The High Priestess gestured to the nine paladins, whereupon they all fell to their
knees. She then produced a vial of blessed "light water", which she used to anoint
the heads of the meekly prostrated knights. When the ceremony was complete, the High
Priestess declared solemnly:

"Now rise, Knights of the Golden Lock, and reclaim the East for your proud Goddess!"

The knights drew their swords and raised them above their heads. Cheering at the top of
their lungs, the crowd joined in, imitating the knights by raising their fists, hats, 
banners or pitchforks into the air.

Not too far away, a group of women observed the proceedings from the marble balcony of
a nearby palace. The most imposing of them was also the one who commanded the most
attention from the rest: a striking, dark-haired beauty wearing -- somewhat unexpectedly --
a gleaming breastplate over a voluminous tourquoise dress. Her lovely walnut-colored
hair hung in thick ringlets around her respectable bosom, and a look of haughty
intelligence animated her exquisite face with its cold blue eyes and thick ruby red lips.

This was none other than Her Majesty Leonora the Third, also known as "the Soldier-Queen".
After the catastrophe of the War of the Three Swords, Leonora had played upon fears of
Eastern retribution to become the most powerful monarch in the whole West, consolidating
her power by toppling most of the weaker royal houses, and winning the love of the public
by styling herself as the continent's most capable war-time ruler.

"Are we ready to mobilize?" she asked the woman next to her -- a demure-looking red-haired 
courtier in red-and-gold clothing.

"Your Majesty," the courtier began breathlessly, "we are still recruiting soldiers. We would
do well to wait until spring..."

"Out of the question," the queen snapped. "High Priestess Dorothea has seen the signs,
and I believe her. We must strike now, or we will lose the favor of the Goddess. How many
soldiers do we have?"

"At present, we command a regular army of fifty thousand. Add to that six thousand Amazons at the
command of queen Thraciscyra, four thousand Norse shieldmaidens under princess Anna Isdottir, three
thousand English sharpshooters under Lady Greyheart, two thousand huntresses of the Black Forest
under Grand Huntress Tilde, five hundred warrior nuns under the War-Abbess Celia, one hundred siege 
machines, and that puts the total at well over sixty thousand."

"A larger invasion force has never been assembled," the Soldier-Queen said, clearly pleased. "We
have no reason to wait."

Meanwhile, the Knights of the Golden Lock were marching down to the town square, accompanied by
deafening cheers from the people. Alone on the temple steps, High Priestess Dorothea stood watching
them, smiling. When she looked up into the sky, she noticed that the clouds had parted to let through 
a ray of reddish light. Her goddess had observed the ritual, and was pleased.

HERE ENDS BOOK 1