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Now hear the tale of Arnthi, girl revered.
A maid like her communes with divine force,
and promised to a chosen God so feared,
she was to be his Bride forever more.
Young Arnthi makes her way through sacred trees,
the nighttime air so sweet with spring's first kiss
and air like silken ribbons on her skin,
inviting deeper into hallowed woods.
Soon finds she in the grove her worship-place,
the door of stone, well-hid among the grass,
which only she can command, "Open now."
With care she glides into the depths well-known.
The Maiden descends down the murky stairs.
A charm weighs on her chest, a wedding vow,
but one she disregards without a care
now that Ramutha, Goddess, has her heart.
'twas Culni, God of Fire, she used to See
and dallied with him every brimming moon.
Now with the Lady Sky-Ward tangles she,
and many pleasures has already known.
This secret bind she fashioned moons ago,
the promise to her divine groom forsook.
Ramutha now commands her moonlit path,
a Goddess borne of Air, its gales and blows.
As Arnthi opens door of heavy oak
and steps into the chamber filled with light,
her Goddess waits for her with open arms.
Their embrace tight, their arms so well entwined,
thus meet they lips so sweet in long-craved kiss,
not knowing Culni ever-watching is
and jealous growing at the lustful sight.
This night intends he to reclaim his bride.
No sooner has the Goddess torn away
her Maiden's cloak and bared her graceful form
than Culni steps from shadow, Fire-Bright.
Both girl and deity cry in dour surprise.
"So you have taken what is mine, my Maid!"
is Culni's accusation from his mouth.
As flashing flame he stands before the two,
and Arnthi shivers with the heat that grows.
"No harm I meant!" she cries and, sudden, throws
herself at feet of God so monstrous now.
He often was so tender, like the sun
on spring's first days, or warmth of hearth and home.
"What if I worshipped both of you at once?"
Her cheeks heat up at whispered words so brave,
scarce trusting her own voice to carry far.
But not to fear: the Powers turn to her.
The burn from Culni eddies, turns to warmth
so pleasant, soft, no threat to skin at all.
Ramutha's caress too returns and strokes
young Arnthi's body, draws a soothing path.
She feels the deities turn their touch to her,
all over limbs and chest and back—oh, joy.
The maid so short compared to both of them,
her dark hair tumbling down her naked breast;
Ramutha, tall of stature, skin like night,
her eyes with sparkle of the stars and moon,
and Culni, fire-haired, eyes of sun and flame,
as tall he stands and covers Arnthi's back.
Young Arnthi gasps at mouths that attack her:
a tongue so gentle, slow, and moving down
to find her nipple, draws a teasing path,
another pair of lips that kiss her neck.
His arms now wrapped around her waist and hip,
the God slides hand downward and finds her wet
with relish, from the touch of Goddess—bliss!
The maid in divine pleasure cries for more.
Thus spend the three all night 'til morning breaks
each other bringing pleasure many-fold.
By morning Arnthi has been newly called
to be Wed Twice, now forever more.