Who Was Firmicus Maternus And Why Did He Write The Error Of The Pagan Religions?

copyright (Warning this is a dark God and Goddess novel. This is all war and manipulation. It won't be pretty at times and it may make your cringe but every scene has a purpose. You just have to keep reading to find out more) Mazaya(masaya) is the goddess of wisdom and creation she's anything but normal. she's emotionally unstable because She holds too much power. She's the only God that was born with a dark god and light God parent. It was never heard of before her. So that explains why she is the most powerful God in existence. Right? Not really because nothing is as it seems. Gods are manipulating each other left and right to prevent complete control. Things you think you know turn out to be a spell caused to protect the world. The only truth is the what they are living now. The past could be lies and there's only one way to find out the truth, to go along Mazaya's journey. One thing is true though She only has one weakness and when the most powerful Gods find it out they work to exploit it so they can control everything. The person who possesses her rules all. Will Mazaya be a pawn in this war against Gods or will she be able to free herself from some of the most ruthless Gods in existence. It' starts off slow but once you get into it it heats up and gets intense. nothing is as it seems in a world full of the most powerful gods. There will be sex scenes and at times it will seem out of there but this is a world of Dark Gods not weak mortals. And what is the way to ones soul? sex and manipulation.

The Mother That Fed the Dark is a study of inherited guilt, ritual, and the long reach of a mother's choices. Amahle, a woman who practices the old rituals in secret, believes that her younger son , Sipho, was born as a spiritual "door" to be sacrificed for the sake of power and protection. During the ritual she performed , she got interrupted by the older son, Thando, who died instead. While the community believes Thando's death was accidental, Amahle knows better: it was the wrong son who died, and the ritual was left unfinished. Drenched in fear and resentment , Amahle raises Sipho as if he is the love of her life, while at the same time working to destroy him. Behind closed doors, she feeds the supernatural force from the failed ritual, which weakens Sipho, making him fearful and dependent. As Sipho grows, so do the misfortunes that follow him, and an unseen entity begins to present itself-first in dreams and whispers, then in the physical world . What we see is that the ritual did not bind to the house but to Sipho's bloodline. When Sipho leaves home, the haunting grows stronger. After Amahle's death, Sipho finds her secret notebooks , which reveal to him the shocking truth: that his brother's death was a mistake and, in fact, Sipho was never meant to die but to be the vehicle for the ritual, which he indeed is. Setting the family home on fire brings only temporary relief , but the curse does not break. In the final revelation, Sipho realizes that he is not the offering but the keeper, the living portal through which harmony, hardship, and magical power flow. Unlike his mother, he comes to the realization that he has a choice.

BASTARD SON OF THE VIKINGS Palermo does not forgive. Neither does it forget. When Guerrero Valenti, the feared leader of the Vikings, vanished, the city exhaled a dangerous calm—but only for a moment. In the shadows, enemies waited. Rivals sharpened their knives. And one woman bore a secret that could ignite every street in the city. Lucia Romano carried the child of a man who had disappeared into legend and rumor. A son who had not been claimed, not protected, not named. The city whispered of him with venom: the bastard of the Vikings. The boy was fragile, but he was a storm waiting to erupt. And every night, Palermo tested him. Masked men tried to snatch him from his crib. Fire, steel, and blood became his lullabies. Yet he survived. Every threat only sharpened his instincts, every scream hardened his mother’s resolve. But whispers spread faster than steel through the night—rumors of a man returning. A shadow that would claim everything, sparking fear in every heart: Guerrero Valenti. The father who abandoned him. The legend whose name alone commands obedience. The storm that will rise, carrying vengeance, blood, and fire. And when he comes, Every man who dared call the bastard his enemy will fall. Every street, every roof, every whispered corner will bow to the son of Guerrero Valenti or be washed in blood. This is the story of survival. Of fire and steel. Of a mother and her son. Of a father’s return. Even the earth is getting ready to absorb blood … the blood of those who call the legitimate son of the Vikings a “BASTARD", and collect necks........the necks of those fallen by the sword of GUERRERO VALANTI. And upon his return Heads will bow to the one they called a BASTARD .

On Mount Olympus, one law is ironclad: a god must never fall in love with a mortal. But Aresios, the God of War and heir to the King of the Gods, bound his very soul to mine. For me, he endured ninety-nine bolts of divine lightning and knelt before the Olympian altar for three days and three nights. Ichor soaked his armor, yet he smiled and kissed my lips. "Elara, don't be afraid. I want only you." The gods finally relented, on one condition: he had to leave behind a pure-blooded divine heir. After that, the words I heard most from Aresios were, "Just wait a little longer." The first time, it was to wait while he bedded another goddess. He and Cassia, the Goddess of Fate, lay together for thirty nights, until his golden ichor quickened in her womb. The second time, he told me to wait. Their first child was a girl, unable to inherit his divine mantle. The gods demanded a son. So he lay with Cassia for another ninety-nine nights, until she once again conceived a divine child. Just when I thought the ordeal was over, their newborn daughter was struck by Hydra's venom. The entire divine realm was convinced I had done it. As I was thrown into a cold bronze cage by the river Cocytus, Aresios stood outside the door, his eyes crimson. "You know what Hydra's venom does to an infant god. Why would you harm our daughter?" That one word. Our daughter. I was too numb to feel the pain. When the bronze cage door opened again, I unclenched my blood-drenched fists. This time, I would not wait.

The Thornes built their aromatherapy business generations ago, but their ancestors made a fatal mistake and brought down a divine curse. For ninety-nine generations, every Thorne heir drew their punishment on their eighteenth birthday. Julian Thorne was the last. He drew the worst punishment: death from hemorrhage in ten months. The only way to break it was to marry a witch from the Old Bloodline and complete the life transference ritual. The witch inscribes a sigil on a parchment and infuses the child's blood essence on it, and the curse transfers to the parchment. I was that witch. My family owed the Thornes a blood debt going back three generations, so I married Julian, gave him a child, and performed the ritual to save his life. I was terrified of missing the ritual window, so I didn't even use anesthesia as the baby was cut out of my womb. However, Julian drove ninety-nine soul spikes into my body while I was still bleeding from the delivery, then set me on fire. "Miriam is the real heir. You're nothing but a fraud who wanted to marry up. "You drove her into the wilderness to protect your position. She went into labor alone and died with the baby. Even dying, she thought of me. She finished the ritual and saved my life. "You deceived my father. I'm destroying your soul. You'll pay for what you did to them." He ignored my screaming while he drained our newborn's blood essence. I watched helplessly as my child's life faded. Then I was nailed to a cross and burned until there was nothing left. When I opened my eyes, I was back on my wedding day.

My father is the High God of the Sun, and my mother is the Empress of the Moon. Ever since I was born, they’ve had two suitors lined up for me. First, there’s Sol, the God of Dawn. He rules the Temple of Light and controls everything warm and bright in this world. Then there’s Karnos, the Shadow Sovereign. He rules the Dark Realm with a power so absolute it makes the other gods tremble. On the day of my Millennium Awakening, whichever man I choose as my husband will become the Supreme Ruler of the entire Divine Realm. Without a second thought, I chose Karnos. The crowd went dead silent. Everyone was losing their minds because I’d been head-over-heels for Sol since we were kids. I’d even sworn an oath that I’d never marry anyone but him. But what they don't know is that in my past life, I did marry Sol. And on our very first night as husband and wife, he crawled into bed with my maid, Lilith. When the news broke, Lilith was banished to the mortal world. Sol never forgave me for that. He blamed me for her exile. After I got pregnant, he started bringing a different goddess home every single night, forcing me to watch while they were intimate right in front of me. It got worse. On the day I went into labor, he intentionally sent away every single healing deity. He ignored my screams and pleas for help, leaving me and my unborn child to die in absolute agony. So, now that I’ve been reborn, I’ve decided to let him have his "true love." I’m walking away and choosing Karnos instead. But there’s one thing I didn’t count on... Sol remembered everything, too.