"Carita?!?! Hurry come quickly. I believe it is happening again."

The woman rushed over to the collapsed figure of the porcelain fleshed girl as she trembled and quivered, those silvered eyes rolled back.

"What is wrong with her?"
"Can you not see she has taken ill? Help me hold her down."
"Hold her down?"
"Trust me... you'll need to."

It was those strong hands on her shoulders pressing her down to the floor that left the Seraphim silvers to come rolling back, smoldering focus as she screamed out her pain.

"What's wrong with her?"
"I told you she's ill!"
"She acts as if she's possessed... by the."
"Don't you even say it, Melkan. This child is an innocent. Those soiled hands of the fallen can never claim her."

Marjorie smoothed her hands to the damp lines of the girl's hair as she panted out a gasping breath as a solitaire tear spilled down her face as the pain subsided.

They had trained her, raised her to deny and ignore what she was. As it got closer to her fifteenth birthday, Carita felt more and more that it was so much harder to deny it. That door, that shining bright door of her soul was starting to open.

Not even the strongest chains could hold the nature of Carita's being. The want and need to be the vessel. To be filled and claimed.

Soft panted breath, Melkan's eyes were diverted to the sparrow line of the girl's ribs and the swelling temptation of an innocent flower's budding into... bloom. The thin gauze of the dress hardly could hide the straining press of her breasts against that filmy fabric.

"I'll take care of her... make sure she does not take ill again. Marjorie... go fetch the doctor."

The woman watched the subtle alter in Melkan's nature, almost speaking on the strange light that came to his eyes. As if... bewitched. Transfixed.

"It is happening again." Majorie's whisper was fragile and terrified as she gripped at her skirt and took off down the hall.

Alone with him, Carita watched Melkan. Motionless as he lifted his hand from her shoulder. Smoothed along the rounding swell of breast. Trailing lower to trace the silky flesh of hip against the material.

Watching her Melkan seemed to notice that those Seraphim silvers seemed so far away from innocence. Ethereal moonlight in devil's midnight pupils.

What was she?

His hand moved without inhibition, uncontrolled. He had no control over... his emotions.

A pretty face could always stir a man's blood but this was tenfold. The desire hitting him in a strong wave.

Melkan was oblivious as his hand slipped between the girl's legs and touched the unclaimed treasure there.

It was only until she moaned out a cry not meant for such a sweet creature that he knew his desire... his want... the hidden dark of his emotions was reflected in Carita's eyes.

His emotion had taken her over... and she was helpless

This pleasure. This bliss was wrong. Taboo. Unclaimed in its possession yet she could not escape it.

His mouth painted the canvas of her skin. His tongue a paintbrush that stroked wet lines along her form.

The valley of offerings that left the innocence of her quivering in anticipation and awakened need.

"Beg me."
"I cannot."
"Beg for it Carita."
"It is wrong..."

His breath was warm against her flesh. Twisting the buds of rose hued nipples to tighten.

She was so vulnerable. So weak. Breakable and Delicate.

A Fragile Beauty. He knew.

"Beg me for it..."

She shook her head as his lips sealed over that tight bud of rosen flesh leaving her to cry out.

He knew not what he did.

"Please..."

He took it as her pleading wish. Not a warning as his fingers touched and dipped into the slick molten core of her, knowing in the heat of her she was ready.

Melkan entered her just as the door flew open and Marjorie's screams erupted around them.

But that Door was already opened within Carita's spirit.

A Vessel awakened and all a Vessel knew was how to contain.

How to Gather.

How to Take.

That power left her shining gold like a goddess vision reincarnated.

She was in that moment the May Queen.

She was Aphrodite.

She was Isis.

Goddess of them all.

Fertility and Lust.

Desire and Need.

Want and Adoration.

The Innocence that was Treasured could become something new, unexpected.

Awakened as spring to know the provocative heat of autumn.

Indifferent of her audience, that which was within...the entity that was contained within Carita took control.

Turning him as she straddled his lap and took over. Hands on his chest left glowing prints.

"You must stop this Carita... you must stop before it's too late..."

Marjorie's words hit her ears even as she coaxed, worked, urged that release.

Her smile was wild in its triumph when such was found and ordained.Hers to possess and take as her own. As his seed spilled within her so did the energy of his emotion in that moment. Taken.

"Carita?!?"

Marjorie's screams were of horror as the fragile beauty collapsed in that possession of a moment as all that it meant to be a Vessel was pressed and pushed to the very limits.

Melkan was weak beneath her, drained but still alive... but Carita... had stopped breathing as if the breath of life itself had been taken from her.

All for the cost of her awakening and the sweet claim of innocence once taken.

"It's not so easy to deny it anymore is it?"
"Not so much."

The seraphim silver of her eyes were moonlight in the glow of the hot summer sun. Cool and ethereal as she stood beside Trent on the beach. Everything had changed when it came to the way Carita saw the world.

He took her hand,fingers working absent circles against the soft flesh of her wrist as they watched the point where earth meant sky.

"I won't be here forever, Carita. Eventually... you'll be on your own to learn of this."

"And what is it that I am?"

He paused as he looked to her. Even in the summer sun he was like a slice of severed shadows and darkness to defy the burning sunlight.

"A Vessel."

Her brows lifted in subtle question though she found herself saying not one word as she considered it. Registered it as truth.

"Where do you think the spirits and souls and the power of gods go when they are forgotten? They are eternal and constant. Simple forces of nature can be given power and strength if but... believed in. You lose your belief in them they disappear, they lose power. But the energy, the lingering imprint... it has to go somewhere when a god is forgotten."

"Forgotten gods within. It seems impossible."

A whisper. The tender fragility of her voice was wispy uncertainty on her tongue, her expression still in possession of that tranquil innocence that left her to be captivating.

"Not for us."

"Then where do they go? Where does the power go and the imprint of souls that brings them to life again."

"They'll live again... in their way."

"Where? How?"

Her back was to the sun then, the light poured across her and sheathed her in a halo glow of energy. She was moonlight in the morning.

He smiled to her in the way a doting adult would a child. Only a subtle gesture as he reached out then and pressed his hand to her woman with a tracing caress of fingertips.

There the haven of his voice, thick dark of desire and knowledge as his eyes found hers again. To make her understand. To watch the truth of his words sink in.

"Inside."

His touch pressed intimate, to let her know and realize what he meant. Inside of her.

A Vessel for a thousand forgotten gods.