The Temple of the Four Winds; La Denouement

Something profound and transformative had occured. Whether a dream, revelation, some trick of supernature , her own mind... or divine intervention. Heloise awoke from a pleasant slumber, eyelids blinking rapidly in the late afternoon light ; apricot hues painted the glade warmly.
She lay in the afterglow; post ecstatic, of her sexual awakening. The late hour giving way to an evening of amber rays through green leaves darkening. Ephemeris bugs danced in a molecular cloud of chaotic movement; shot through with golden beams.
Despite realizing her deliverer had gone; and still prone, she shuddered with the radiant tremors of pleasure that coursed periodically through her veins and extremities. This was random, and outwith her control; like the juddering aftershocks of some seismic event. She felt completely earthed, sated, pleasantly exhausted, and filled with a sense of awe inspired wonderment at the recent catharsis she had undergone.

Her habit; stained with hymeneal blood, the residual sweat of their joyous union- and the glistening remains of his copious gleet...still drained warmly from her generative mons.
Heloise smiled contentedly to herself, staring up at the deepening azure above-... (then she began to laugh, ...loud and hearty- as she hadn't laughed in years!!) Strangely filled with renewed energy, she rose and set to dressing and preparing for her hike back down to the convent...There was a spring in her step , a new revelatory purpose, a feeling of positive enlightenment and residual pagan joy.

Yet, what would the sisters say, if they saw this soiled habit? She puzzled over the stain, then realized that if she turned it inside out, and reconfigured her cape to form a sort of chasuble, back and front, they would assume she was feeling the cool night air... none would be the wiser.

Upon returning to her cell, she could either visit la buanderie, or soak the garb, even burn it if need be.

Making her way first to the Belvedere, and not without a pang of longing and sadness at leaving the day and place of her enlightenment behind, she took her last looks at the antique statuary... still in situ, radiant, smiling, knowing, and copper coloured in the fulgurant gloaming.
Unable to resist running her hands over the hooves and shaggy calves of the Parian form...whose living doppelganger had so recently initiated her into the joys of carnal delight; Heloise lingered a moment at the pagan altar, in very much the same way she so often had in the Sacristy... before the contorted polychrome crucifix of her sacred Lord Jesu...not wanting to leave the object of her loyal veneration... to which she had forever pledged, her entire body, blood, being, soul, living or dead, for all eternity.

She left the temple, and walking down the path that led away from the hill; she noticed something at its verge... something small and white catching the fainter rays of the dying sun. Litter perhaps?... on closer inspection, Heloise realized the object lay half buried in the earth and rotting leaf mould...she reached to touch it, and found it smooth, warm, absorbing the heat of the sun...scrabbling in the earth to grasp its columnar form she realized it was larger than what met her gaze, and tugging with vigour, it came away from the earthy damp with a lewd sucking sound.

It was the marble fascinum!...the missing broken phallic shaft of pink veined Parian! so brutally vandalized from the temple of her deliverer. How long it had lain there was a mystery. A faint greenish tinge of moss marked the muddy line of its half submersion, roughly down the centre of its vertical circumference... she felt the warmth of the smooth stone, finely tooled with raised veins to mimic nature, the big belled head, the elegant lacing of the copious prepuce gathered beneath, the warm striated apricot pink veins of coloured marble through white that so eloquently spoke of its provenance.

Brushing off the worst of the dirt, Heloise marveled at her good fortune and spirited the relic into her reticule, where all roughly ( eight inches or so of it ,) stayed hidden for her journey home.