Though now it is but ancient lore, there comes to me a particular fancy this eve as I gaze into the darkly splendid heavens. For this night, as from long lost dreams, I can hear the silent serenade of the welkin high above, where the tears of stone angels lie captured in silver. My spirits stir and sway to the music, calling to the depths of my inner soul with its sombre cadences and sweet harmonies. It was on a night much like this when I last stood in the garden listening enraptured by the celestial choirs and accompanied by the lovely nymphs who danced unseen all around me. I can still hear the delightful ringing and jingling of the charms they wore, and the redolent aroma of the lilies from their perfumes. More than ever this night their frolicking seemed filled with mirth, for the moon was full high above, flooding the firmament with a pale and ghostly light, nearly illuminating the beautiful forms all about me.

Like soft breezes I could feel their tender hands brushing me as I meandered through the garden. Once I had come to my initial destination, I paused to kneel and pray before the eldritch oaken tree that stretched ever upward until it seemed to be the single pillar holding up the heavens. At the highest branches I could almost hear of those spirits and angels that peopled the air, with their ebony crowned prince leading the dance on his harp, the music flowing like a river unabated and direct from his heart. I can almost see the radiance of his face as he gazes upon the form of his love, She that has from the wilderness with a greater wisdom. And as always by their sides are their faithful daughters, Ligeia and Nathicana. The ancient oak I knelt before now once told me it was their daughters that brought hope and love to humanity.

Mayhaps one day after I pass from this earth I shall be going to those festive halls. Yet for the moment I knelt, before the aged oak towering above all the worlde I let my hands touch the fertile black earth at the base of the cyclopean tree, tracing the symbols and sign as I had done so many night like this one, when the midnight sun tempted the waters of the earth towards silver. Inhalation brought the rich scents of the great and wealthy lands to my nostrils, with the aroma of the seasons. Already, the first leaves were changing their suits for the Autumn, coming soon now. Prior to my rising I prayed to the Great Serpents that live deep within the earth to watch over the primordial tree, for who was here that could count its rings and who knew what catastrophes awaited the living when the tree withered and died?

After meditating upon the possible aeons the branches above me had bore witness to I departed with a supplication of blessing and good fortune from those deep within and far below who held on the very roots of this oak at some unknowable depth. After I there rose, from that point I departed. With the air of the seasons still in my lungs and the moist feeling of black earth still on my hands I moved towards my ultimate destination. I could hear the soft and youthful laughter of lovely nymphs as I wandered on my pathway past the fragrant lilies and exotic blossoms from many plants too olde to name. Moving on I passed the white nephalot, favoured by poets to dream of beauty and inspiration, to the patch of mandragora, tool of wizards and shamans to induce arabesque and lucid dreaming while still in a waking state.

I saw not far ahead a wondrous sight; it was a flower that rose only on nights such as this. It lies near to the pond plentiful with lotus blossoms where the faery-folk slept. There they wove webs of glittering fabrics to catch the moonlight on, and this to be used later in their faery glamour. But now they were just awakening from dreams of Ægypt, where ancient priests bowed before their goddess sphinx, and cast such mysterii as to never be unravelled. But this I passed. I paused slightly at the moon-blossom, for in this aethery light one could almost imagine the blossom as the head of some beauty of legend, with aethereal pedals flowing languidly about her marble face. I could see the satin-like black of her body, slender and dazzling, graceful and elegant.

Her pale face and near silver hair wavered in the slightest of breezes were contrasted by the black curves of her young form, highlighted perfectly by the first morning dews. My heart fluttered when I saw her tranquil eyes gaze into my own, my senses all captured by this exquisite beauty. For her there in the moonlight I halted to praise such beauty, for I knew her name to be Æsthetia, by whom all things lovely and splendid were measured. She was the rod the artist realised the true universe through; she was the aim of all poets who prayed and longed every passing eve for but a glimpse of this god-like maiden. And yet, even from her presence I departed, for greater grandeur lie ahead of me. To the Lady Æsthetia I bid farewell with a praise of adoration.

And as I passed, behind me many of the nymphs stayed with her to learn the secrets of the night and to adorn themselves with the finest silvers. I could hear their first hymns being sung as I travelled across the small bridge in this garden. Even the water beneath the bridge was alive with colour and light, for within the very waters lining the bottom was veined marble. There the midnight sun was transformed into a kaleidoscope, a rainbow of colours and shades that defied any known spectrum. The waters beneath the bridge glowed and pulsed slightly with the flowing light and radiance. Every possible luminescence was there: hues of ambers and violets mixing with touches of azure and magenta. There were crimsons and golds followed by all natures of greens and others beyond name and description.

And this too I left behind heading towards my goal. As I progressed the low humming and lapping of the waters could be heard while soon I saw the pathway lined with stones all covered in layers and layers of mosses. Here the foliage began to thin and soon gave way to an opening, a clearing of sweet grasses and wild poppies. Again my senses were dizzied by the vast array and potency of the delightful aroma around me. Everything about me grew hazed and the desire to sleep began to steal over me. The moonlight here leapt from dewdrop and flower petal to lure the dreams and night visions of prophets to their rest. With heavy steps I drifted through that realm of aspirations as well, until at last I stood at the threshold of my final destination. Even the grasses began to give way to stairs that marked the end of the garden.

Soon I drew nearer to those ebony stairs, polished and glistening. The purest black steps had been painstakingly wrought from the stone that was already here when the Gardens were first discovered untold ages ago. Soon I felt their familiar firmness beneath me as I descended slowly to a cave, lined with candles, glowing soft and faint in a romantic light. Incenses of myrrh and cinnamon filled the atmosphere, delighting the mind with pleasant images of long ago. As I descended further into the cave, carved naturally from the primordial earth I came to my place, the very place I had sought all night. After leaving the stairway and entering the small chamber beneath, I knelt once more and slowing closed my eyes. All about I could feel the Garden I had traversed earlier, all the sights and scents, all the colours and tantalising beauty.

My mind reeled as the majesty I had passed through, the glory of the treasures of nature, all magickal and mysterious. The aroma of the nymphs still clung to me, and their feathery light touches tickled still around my neck. Upon the floors of the chamber I knelt until the powers of Hypnos and Somnia overtook me, felling me with their powders and spells. No sooner had I knelt than did I find my weigh pulling me to the stone floor, strangely warm and slightly moist, inviting me to slumber. Soon my body lie stretched full length upon the floors of the chamber where the midnight sun still flooded down the stairway and the celestial choirs sung the madrigals of the night. Hypnotised by the arcana about me, and feeling the powers seeping into my spirits, I released the reigns of sleep and slowly drifted into darkness. There I was greeted by dreams of pageantry and mirth me thought death had stolen over me and not sleep! My dreams had brought me to the halls of the angelic prince, whose elfin fingers danced over harp strings to lull me deeper into the grasp of slumber.

* * *

I awoke to the faintest movement near to me. A slender shadow had fallen over the stairway attempting to obstruct the silvery light where I dreamt. With a slight start I rose quickly as glowing orbs floated into the room, wherein shined the fantasia of angels and nymphs. They brought strange lights with them, a red shade to compliment to the amber candlelight. As they flitted about the chamber in ancient design, my ears caught the faintest bits of whispers and murmurings, as if some rite were passing into existence.

With ebbing sands the whispers rose until I could hear it was a name, and one I knew before all others. All around me the chamber came to life with the smell of roses, red and ripe, and I saw the shadow at the top of the stairs stir, moving down the stairs. My eyes were filled with tears as I realised the rite passing before me. What honour that I had been chosen for! I fell as once to my knees upon the stone floor as the first tears caressed down my cheeks. My eyes closed with the encroaching rapture. The temperature in my veins rose to a near boil, and my brow beaded with sweat. The air in the room, atmosphered with incenses of myrrh and cinnamon now coupled with roses, and lighted with candles and nymph-dreams, began to sing with the symphonies of ancient lore. Airy flutes and sombre bells, warm brasses and Arabic lutes, Indian strings and chanting echoes from down below sounded from the very stones.

The floor itself seemed to have sounds emanating out of its warm moisture, the low tones of an organ mayhaps... As the symphonies swirled and twirled about my kneeling form, as the anthem to midnight harmonised all the wonders and mysterii of life, as the cadences began to rise and fall, I fell into a trance. My longing spirits began to sing and chant along as the masterpiece of music lasted through the procession. As the melody lasted, the scent of roses grew denser, and the air thickened with humidity, making the candles shimmer like glowing pearls. As the symphony rose higher and higher towards climax and finale, I knew the rite to be near ending. The shadow grew over me, casting my vision through closed eyes into darkness.

The moment before the orgiastic climax I felt a hand touch my teary face, and my closed eyes opened. No words shall ever express what I beheld in that moment, no poetry or painting could capture what things where seen then, never in all history or collected civilisations. The very night had parted and loosed something from the otherworlde, something of seraphic beauty, and beyond all conception of splendour. Mere mortal minds cannot conceive of such totality and essence. Such a vision coupled with the menstrual scents of red roses to wipe away all previous loves and desires, the chamber about me spun as my eyes opened to reveal what creature had cast such shadows over the stairway of ebony, and rouse the nighttyme symphonies into masses and gloria. My opened eyes beheld the naked white moon Goddess in the flesh.

As I saw Her I knew Her to be the very essence of the endeavours of antiquity. Yet for all of the accomplishments of that art, any sculpture or painting was merely a flawed and feeble parody of the absolute grandeur of this being. A throw of deep scarlet hung over Her palest shoulders, caught by a single rose bud that hung over the chasm of Her loveliness. Around Her ivory brow was graced a halo of roses all red, and the same ripe roses lined the ends of Her throw, and drifted about Her footfalls. She was easily identified by the arch of such a brow, both bent like bows of some wild Eros hanging like constellations over Her emerald eyes. In the place of Her animal covering, between Her legs to shield the darkness there was another rose, large and dripping with morning dew, all honey-scented and held in place by the genius of laces wrapped tightly about Her ample hips and round thighs.

Covering the firmness of the nipples of Her silky breasts there too were rose blossoms, again held in place by strings of exotic fabrics. Those milky white breasts were treasures beyond any imagination of king or poet alike, yet I beheld them there, alive and young and unfulfilled. They still bounced and swayed slightly from Her last step. Her porcelain legs reached into a heaven so lourdely and aphrodisial, full of life and love. Those luscious legs ended in small feet partially hidden and concealed by pedals that fell before Her. And behold, a face of such beauty! With lips fuller than any chalice and sweeter than any wine ten thousand fold! Painted were those lips, in crimson like blood, glowing against Her palest skin. Her dew-lidded eyes held me effortlessly half opened and languid, a raw colour of green like the forest in midsummer after a long rain, placid and deep as a peaceful loch.

With a velveteen touch She drew me close to Her, so that the petals of the roses clinging to Her precious body brushed my face, while with Her other hand She loosened the laces that imprisoned Her god-like bosoms. With a slow and longing motion She drew my lips closer to Her swollen nipples, where She bid that I drink from Her as a wolf from its mother. When my tender lips touched those majestic bosoms, a small moan passed through Her painted lips, urging me to drink. As my lips and teeth grasped Her white flesh and my tongue began to circle Her fullness, Her moans grew into a deep sigh, shaking through Her entire form. As I first suckled from Her, my mouth was filled with nectars from unknown heavens, the very blood of the night.

With supple fingers She pressed my lips closer, clawing at my hair and against my scalp. Cries of pleasure soon resounded though the chamber and Her body began to tremor in ecstasy. She began to move and beg me to drink more, and bid me to clamp down upon Her with force. As I felt my teeth begin to bear down upon Her milk-filled breasts, She screamed and pulled my hairs tightly, causing my teeth to clamp down all the harder. With the rise in pressure, Her body began to sway nearly uncontrollably. Yet soon my engulfed senses were attacked by a new phenomenon. While the naked white moon Goddess held me to Her ample bosoms, a new pair of hands began touching my back, and pulling at my garments.

In a drunken stupor, the hands that held my head pulled me away from the flood of divine juices that issued forth from Her flesh, towards the attention of another glory, equal in magnificence to the first, yet She was clothed in blacks instead of reds. Around Her throw were lined raven feathers instead of rose blossoms, giving Her the appearance of a grand sorceress, bedevilling and gilded in the finest shades of night. For a stunned moment I looked from Beauty to Beauty, wondering what blessing this was that the Great Serpents had passed unto me. And yet soon my searching glances were trapped in the infinite well of the crystal azure eyes of the second black-clad Beauty. They held my soul quickly like a spider web, and with lengthening smile She turned to the first Beauty, who smiled just as sinisterly.

Soon the painted dark nails of the black Beauty were at work, aptly undoing the straps that held Her roses in place, yet not the roses upon Her breasts did She loosen, but rather the laces about Her hips concealing Her womanhood. As the first Beauty placed Her strong hands behind me, the second Beauty stepped forward, discarding the loincloth and rose that was scented with honey. When She stood close enough, She clasped my neck with icy fingers and rubbed my face into Her animal nature. Then She lifted Her right leg and placed it over my shoulder, and as the first Beauty held to the other for balance as support, She moved my lips over the very fountain from which all life derives, caressing my loving lips against the fountain of life. With a sensual voice She bid that I should drink the wine of the Gods, whose favour I had won.

So with passion burning and hunger desires I drank nectars fit for the highest of the holy. With Her hands then upon my head She asked me to thrust my tongue deep within that all the sweeter juices I might taste, and with a pulling motion She drove my tongue into Her cavern. From Her issued forth cry after cry of pleasure, and again the chamber resounded with orgasmic delights. Soon too Her body shook, pressing me closer and closer to Her very core, and as She did so Her voice rose in pitch, until I thought my hearing would fail me. Soon the hands of both Goddesses took hold of my arms and bid me rise. With absinthe-like prowess I could only gazed transfixed into their eyes as they towered over my drunken form. All of my body tingled and singed with fervour, yet my legs failed to support what felt like massive weight.

After a moment of flailing helplessly, they held me up between them, pressing their silken breasts against me. With passionate shivers passing through their heavenly forms they lowered me to the floor once more, and there they whispered their names and desires into my ears. And there our bodies danced and caressed, we three joined in conjugal sexuality. Taking turns like warrior priestesses they mounted my form that each to each we might be connected in body and soul. The scent of Their roses mingled with the feral and carnal delights shared that eve, we embraced in intercourse, bodies and spirits all entwined that night as I was wed to the Goddesses dressed in red and black, daughters of the prince, crowned over the powers of the air that night in the garden beneath the silver light of the moon...