Apotheosis Ch. 00


Disclaimer: The following story depicts sexual acts between two men. Though unspecified, both participants are intended to be over eighteen. If such material offends you, or you are offended by profanity, please do not continue reading. This story belongs to Timothy Evans and should not be distributed to other sites without expressed consent. Comments and suggestions are welcome and appreciated.


It is said in the Ancient Texts that humans were once gods. They could create and destroy. They could call winds and dam rivers, move continents and soar through the skies. After all, gods had created humans in their likeness, physical, spiritual, and magical. In that lost age, the humans waged a war with the gods. The battle ravaged the earth, and the gods emerged victorious, stripping the humans of their powers. These powers could not be destroyed, however, and so the gods sealed them away in the Seeds, scattered across the lands. The gods were weakened and tired, and it took the last of those powers to bind the Seeds in the earth, so that they would not be reunited with human flesh. The gods then slept, leaving the earth to fall into chaos.

Diavoro stared at the glass case in front of him, containing one of the Erasaph Seeds. For thousands of years it laid in the earth, waiting for the gods’ binding power to fade, until it could break free. He didn’t know when the Brethren found it, or how, but they revered it, feared it. The Seed contained the awesome powers of darkness and destruction, and the cowards kept it here in a box, too frightened to reunite it with the human flesh it so desired. Diavoro wasn’t afraid.

He didn’t carry a torch down to the dark cavern where the Seed waited, but his eyes had adjusted enough to see the exit. They would know someone had taken the Seed, but they would not know it was him. He’d smeared his face and hands and feet black with charcoal, and he wore a black cloak. Picking up a hand-sized stone, he smashed it into the case. The sound of the shattering glass echoed in the cave, and he grabbed the Seed and ran.

As soon as he got out of the room, he heard voices echo behind him. He didn’t look back, but looked ahead to be sure of his escape. He hurtled through the tunnels, making sharp turns around corners he’d taken days to memorize. The Brethren met in an underground fortress, a maze of tunnels and caves that an outsider could lose himself in forever.

Around a corner he plowed into one of the Brothers, the two of them collapsing on the ground. The impact stunned him for a moment, and he held the Seed tight to his chest. The Brother looked up at him. “My Brother, where are you going in such a hurry?” Diavoro found he’d lost his voice, and again he heard his pursuers, louder this time. He pushed himself up off the Brother and found his footing, running faster through the labyrinth.

Up ahead he could hear the sound of a rushing waterfall. His heart was pounding in his chest, and he held the Seed closer just to remind himself it was still there. The tunnel sloped upwards, and he felt himself slowing down, his legs like lead. The sound of his pursuers grew louder.

He emerged from the tunnel, stopping himself before he tumbled over the edge of a cliff. The waterfall roared to his right, crashing into a deep, churning pool below him. He looked around himself. There was no way down, other than back in the cave. Voices echoed in the tunnel, loud enough to hear over the waterfall. He was trapped.

He knelt down and covered his head with the cloak. He didn’t want his pursuers to see his face, even with the charcoal.

“You’ve got nowhere to go. Hand over the Seed!”

Diavoro didn’t turn. His heart raced, and he loosed the cord that bound his cloak together. He pulled his arms inside his sleeves, along with the Seed, so that it rested on his bare chest.

“Hand over the Seed!”

Diavoro stood slowly, calmly, and jumped.


The cool water ripped the cloak from his body, leaving him naked. He held his breath and swam under the water, using one arm to secure the Seed against his chest. When he opened his eyes the water was almost clear, except for the froth from the waterfall. He could hear the deafening roar behind him, but he’d jumped clear of the undertow. He swam until he reached the shore, spotting where a tangle of bushes dipped into the water. Surfacing there, he gasped, then looked up through the thick leaves at the cliff. The Brothers were still there, searching for him.

He set down the Seed beside him and scrubbed the charcoal off his body. His heart had calmed enough for him to notice his pulsing cock, and he felt alive and charged. He splashed his face once more, then looked up again at the Brothers. One turned to leave, while the other stayed watch.

Diavoro knew he’d bought himself some time, but there would be a search party out soon. Grabbing the Seed, he crawled into the bushes, staying low and making as little movement as possible. The branches scratched his bare skin, but he was no stranger to Cebeci Escort pain, being one of the Brethren.

The Brethren was a fraternity dedicated to the worship of darkness. Out of darkness came the light, and out of destruction was born creation. The Brethren saw the darkness in the world, and they welcomed it, for it signaled the dawn of a new light. But the Brethren operated on the faith that with the darkness would come destruction. They were wrong. Those who wanted creation to come must first bring destruction to the world.

Diavoro emerged from the bushes in a forest where the canopy of leaves so blocked the light that only soft earth lay underneath. Only the rare patch of moss or ferns managed to survive in the shade. He walked straight ahead, the scratches from the bushes stinging on his skin.

After a while he reached a small brook and stepped in, the cold water washing over his feet, and proceeded upstream. Here there was a break in the leaves overhead, and foliage grew thick and lush. Diavoro felt the sun beating down on his neck and paused a moment, bearing his chest to the light. The heat invigorated him, and he stretched his muscles, tight from the swimming and crawling.

Farther down the brook he spotted the flowering azalea. It was a wonder to him how such a thing of beauty grew in this place. Stopping, he stepped out of the brook and inhaled its sweet aroma. Underneath the bush he found his clothes and a long cloth bandage. He pressed the Seed to his chest, using the bandage to bind it there. Then he put on his trousers and tunic, and a leather coat to hide the Seed. He rinsed his feet and slipped into his sandals, then headed out of the forest.


Once out of the forest, the town where he lived was only up the hill. It was a quiet town, with the essential blacksmith, tailor, and bar. The farm was on the other side of the town, run by Turin, a kind man whom Diavoro thought too simple, and yet the man raised beautiful horses and Diavoro had gained permission to ride one a few days after he moved there.

Diavoro was new to the town. He’d bought a house on a stipend from the Brethren, on the north side of town. It was a recruitment tool, really, for how else could a dark organization trap the innocent without using money? It always took a little persuasion for newcomers to succumb to their ideals.

He locked the door behind him, then went upstairs to his bedroom. He stripped down and unbound the Seed from his chest, laying it down on the bed. The Seed shone in the light, its glossy black surface etched with green runes. It was about the size of his fist, and shaped like a teardrop. He lay down upon it, feeling it pressed into his stomach. Only two rituals stood between his body and the power of the Seed.

A knock awoke him from his reverie. He peered out of his window and saw two of the Brethren at his door.

“Hold on a moment! I’ll be right there!” he yelled. The Brothers looked up at him, and he waved then left the window. He muttered a cleaning spell, which made his skin tingle but left him without any traces of charcoal or dirt he might have missed. Normally he wouldn’t use magic for cleaning, but it was very handy in a hurry. He hid the Seed under his pillow and dressed.

The Brothers smiled when he opened the door. “Hello, Diavoro, we’re sorry to disturb you.” It was Ilix and Varn, who served the Brethren as Protectorates of the Secrets. “Something very disturbing happened this morning, and Brother Uriel has called an emergency meeting.”

Diavoro feigned surprise. “What happened? A full meeting?”

“I’ll explain on the way,” replied Ilix. “Get your uniform on, we can’t be late.”

Diavoro nodded, then went back inside. His uniform rested in a dresser in his bathroom, neatly folded. He stripped down to change.

The uniform consisted of several pieces, all made of a thin, black material that stretched to fit the natural form of the body. Its paramount purpose was to inspire lust, for the Brethren believed that unification through the power of lust brought them strength and bound them as Brothers. He first pulled on the small pouch that held his penis, which fastened by three strings, two which strung around the waist and another that strung up through the butt cheeks. He then stepped into the pants that clothed his waist to his ankles in black. The final pieces were a wide band that covered his chest, and three others, one around his neck and the others around his wrists. Over this uniform he redressed in trousers and tunic.

He met Ilix and Varn at the door. “I’m ready.”

They left the town heading towards the forest, to the cliffs where the caves of the Brethren hid.

“What’s going on?” Diavoro asked.

“It’s the Erasaph Seed,” said Ilix, “it was stolen today.”


“Yes, some stranger in a black cloak broke the case and tried to escape with the Seed. Varn and I chased after him ourselves. The thief made a wrong turn and we cornered him at the waterfall Kolej Escort overlook. Then, he jumped.”

“He jumped?”

Ilix sighed. “Yes, and that’s exactly the problem. I don’t see how he could have lived, but we’ve been searching the shores of the pool and the river, and while his cloak has shown up his body has not. We can’t find any signs that he may have escaped the waterfall, but we’ve only had so long to search, so something may still turn up. Nevertheless, we still need to meet and discuss it.”

Varn nodded. “The powers inside that Seed are untold. It can’t be released.”

Diavoro’s mind drifted to the Seed, but he pushed the thought out of his mind. The face often betrayed the mind.

At the entrance to the caves, the three stripped down to their uniforms and left their clothes in a room off the entrance. They then proceeded down to the main Cavern, where they found many of the Brethren already standing in a circle. Diavoro joined the circle, tapping two brothers who parted to let him in. They then resealed the circle. The man to his left placed his hand on Diavoro’s butt, and Diavoro placed his left hand on the man’s cock. He then placed his right hand on the other man’s butt, and the man in turn placed his hand on Diavoro’s cock. They all stood facing the center, where Brother Uriel stood, naked, as presiding leader over the meeting. Around Uriel were four bowls of burning oil, their flickering light casting a glow on Uriel’s large pecs and thick cock. Diavoro felt the seeds of desire awaken within him, and his cock grew in his Brother’s hand.

Still more Brothers joined, and for a while they remained facing the center while they waited for the circle to be complete. After a few moments of silence, Brother Uriel touched his right forefinger and middle finger to his lips, while he wrapped his left hand around his shaft. On this cue, Diavoro closed his hands around cock and butt, and felt his own cock and butt clasped in the hands of his Brothers. They held the circle for a moment, then bowed towards the center, whispering “To the Brethren of Darkness.” They then knelt, ankles crossed, and folded their hands in their laps, looking up at Brother Uriel.

“As Brothers we are joined!” proclaimed Uriel, then kneeled himself. “My Brothers, it is with grave news that I called you here together today. The Erasaph Seed has been stolen.” Whispers drifted around the circle. “Yes, this is truly a disaster. I can only guess that the thief wishes to activate the seed.” He held up a hand, and the whispers ceased. “Do not panic just yet. The thief escaped by jumping into the pool at the bottom of the waterfall. He may no longer be alive, but we cannot be too cautious.

“Now, here is what we will do. First, we need a team of men to scour the forest and town nearby. The sooner the better. Second, we need a team of divers to look and see if the thief was lost to the waterfall, and more importantly, if the Seed is in the waters.”

Diavoro anticipated this would happen. He would be expected to participate in one of the groups, and it had to be the group that searched the town. There was one other person in the Brethren, at least that he knew of, who wanted to see the Erasaph Seed released. All they had to do was get to his house and his dark magic would protect them.

“If you can stay behind to dive, please stand,” said Uriel. About ten men stood. “Please go. Brother Varn will show you where the thief jumped and where to look. The rest of you, search the forest and the town around here. You are to report back here at nightfall. Is that understood?”

Diavoro nodded along with the other men.

“Then go in Brotherhood.”

They stood and left, heading to the room off the entrance to retrieve their clothes. The Brethren uniform was never to be seen outside of the caves.


Diavoro walked with purpose through the forest and up the hill to his house. No doubt the others saw him, but it didn’t matter. He shut the door behind him and waited for a few moments. Standing there, he noticed his pulse quicken. His eyes drifted to the table in the middle of the room, where the ancient tome detailing the Ritual of Germination lay open on the table.

The door opened and Brother Ilix walked in. Diavoro smiled, then embraced Ilix, their lips coming together in a passionate kiss. “We succeeded,” he whispered, stroking Diavoro’s bulge. They broke off their embrace, and Diavoro faced the door, raising his hands. He spoke ancient, long-lost words, and power blossomed around him, and he could feel it wrap itself around the house, protecting them.

“We’re safe,” he said, turning.

Ilix nodded. “Go Plant the Seed, and I will prepare for the ritual.”

Diavoro nodded, then went up to his room.

He stripped off his clothes, then went to his drawer. Inside lay a collection of charcoal sticks. He took one and drew the ancient symbol of knowledge on his forehead, the symbol of power on his chest, and the symbol of magic on his stomach. Yenimahalle Escort On the bed the Seed waited, and he pulled it from under his pillow. It gleamed with a dark luster. As he touched it, his heart beat faster. For the first time, he felt real fear. This was the end of life as he knew it. The ancient texts didn’t detail what happened when the Seed germinated inside of a human.

He took a deep breath. The Seed would grow. He slipped his fore and middle finger inside his mouth, then rubbed the saliva over the surface of the Seed. The green runes turned a deep blue. He then coaxed a few drops of precum out of his cock. He rubbed it on the Seed, and the runes glowed red, like fire. As if in a trance, he laid down on the bed, holding the Seed over his chest. An eerie pull guided it onto the Symbol of Power, and he let it rest there. For a moment, all was still, and then the Seed began to emit light, blinding light, and his chest burned.

Diavoro screamed. The Seed seared his chest, and it sent his brain reeling. He could feel an enormous pressure forcing the Seed inside him, and his body melting to accept it. All his muscles seized, and his body was filled with pain. It all lasted a moment, and then it was gone, leaving him breathless.

Heart pounding, he brushed a finger across the spot where the Seed entered his chest, to find that the charcoal did not smear. He lifted himself up and stood, discovering that the symbols had been burned into his skin. For a brief moment, he was terrified, but some power awakened inside him, and his cock pulsed and energy bloomed in his chest. He turned towards the door, a new hunger awakened in him.


Downstairs, the room seemed transformed. All the furniture was moved to the outside of the room, and the carpet had been stripped off the floor. The blinds were all drawn and pinned to the wall, blocking out all sunlight, and the room was lit by eight bowls of burning oils arranged in a circle. Inside the circle, Ilix had chalked the Great Seal, the shape of the Seed caged by to curves that resembled ropes. Before long, the Seal would be burned away.

Diavoro went down and laid on top of the seal, stretching out his arms and legs, offering his body as a host for the Seed. As he lay there, Ilix emerged from the shadows. Diavoro glimpsed the fresh lines on Ilix’s body in the dim light of the fires. Like Diavoro he had the symbol of knowledge on his forehead, and the symbol of magic on his stomach, but it was the symbol of sacrifice that adorned his chest. A wave of lust pulsed through him as Ilix stood over his body, holding a small leather pouch.

Smiling, Ilix reached into the bag and pulled out a handful of a dark potpourri, sprinkling the mixture of black rose petals, thyme, and pine onto Diavoro’s body. They fell soft on his skin, soothing, and fueling his burning desire. Once he emptied the pouch, Ilix cast it aside, then spread his arms and proclaimed the Ancient Words, summoning the magic of the past.

The fires snuffed out, leaving them in darkness. For a moment, Diavoro heard only his breathing, and then he felt the soft caress of Ilix’s hand on his cheek, a finger soothing his lips. He lifted his head, eager, and his lips found Ilix’s mouth. They kissed, Diavoro thrusting his tongue into Ilix’s throat. The fires sparked into life, burning a deep crimson.

Diavoro sat up, guiding Ilix’s butt into his lap, so that his cock grazed Ilix’s hole. He desperately wanted to fuck him, but the ritual had marked him as the vessel. Still, he kneaded Ilix’s butt cheeks, feeling their full muscles in his palms. Their lips were locked, and he drank in Ilix’s breath, the heat filling his lungs.

Ilix cradled Diavoro’s head, stroking his hair and massaging his neck. He leaned his head back and felt Ilix’s lips slide down his cheek and neck, his tongue snaking down his chest until he fastened his mouth on one of Diavoro’s nipples. He hissed and stroked Ilix’s cheek, feeling his body pulse with sparks of pleasure from Ilix’s tongue.

With his free hand, he tugged on Ilix’s cock, gentle but firm. Ilix maneuvered off of him and they kneeled, kissing with the slow fervor of a growing thunderstorm. Diavoro pulled Ilix as close as he could, so that their chests and stomachs and cocks burned against each other. Unity, the ultimate goal of the Brethren. Unity, in darkness. He thrust his pelvis forward, and their bodies undulated together with the power of the serpent.

Ilix slid his hand down Diavoro’s back, his fingers slithering into Diavoro’s butt crack and teasing his hole. Diavoro moaned, squeezing Ilix tighter to him. He pushed against Ilix, and Ilix’s finger burrowed deeper inside him. It stung, but made his body ringing with pleasure. Ilix stroked his chest with the other hand, and Diavoro could feel the Seed stirring inside him, awakening, yet still held tight within its shell.

Diavoro leaned back on his hands and Ilix’s fingers slid out of Diavoro’s ass. Diavoro groaned, longing to be filled again. For just a moment, he could breathe, and then he felt Ilix’s warm breath on his cock. He looked down at Ilix, to see his Brother’s tongue flick the tip of his head. It made his groin sizzle, and he clenched his hands against the hard floor. Ilix brushed his rod with his lips, baiting him and making his heart pound in his chest. He nearly came when Ilix slid his mouth over his shaft.

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