by M. D. Grimm
“What?”
He opened his mouth, his brow furrowed, and then just started laughing. “You sneaky bastard!”
I grinned. After a moment’s consideration, I ducked back under the water and finished him off. I had to hold his head above water while he got his own breath back. I gripped the side of the pool and had one arm around his waist. His wet arms were around my shoulders, his face nuzzled against my neck. I held him contently, enjoying his lithe form pressed against me. I never thought I would enjoy another being’s presence and form as much as I loved his.
I needed him.
We eventually swam over to the shallow end of the hot springs and stood against the side. My body was suddenly weary, and the burn of my muscles proved that I had overdone the laps. My neck was a little sore from Aishe’s dunk, but that would pass.
I finally spoke, realizing Aishe needed to know some things. Some things that had happened in distant history.
“Nanthar was the first seventh son of a seventh son.”
I felt Aishe’s eyes on me, but I stared at the opposite wall. “His magick came to him quickly, and he was strong at a young age. He had intense focus and seemed to be the model student. None of the other mages thought the manner of his birth was cause to worry. They thought it unusual, but let it be.”
I paused, my mind drifting. “I think it was the wisest thing the Mother ever did to make mages sterile. I don’t want to even imagine what a child of his would have been like. Would all that powerful magick pass to the child? Or would the child be something darker?”
I shook myself. It didn’t matter. Mages couldn’t have children. We were born of seelas, non-magickal creatures who lived in kingdoms and villages. Most mages took seela companions who already had children, to give them some idea what it would be like to be a parent. I never had that desire. Children terrified me.
“What happened to him?” Aishe prompted me.
“You know the legends.”
“But you tell it like you were there. Don’t stop now.”
I smiled slightly. He sounded eager, like a child.
“Nanthar grew in power and influence and was elected to the Council. Only the ten most powerful mages alive can be part of the Council. They are elected by their peers, based on sheer magickal power, but also cunning, intelligence, and influence -- who among the powerful of their time do these mages know?”
I shifted in the water, remembering what Master Ulezander told me about these mages, the journals and scrolls he’d had me read that held accounts of those who had actually lived during those times.
“But it wasn’t long before Nanthar showed his true intentions. He had enslaved half the Council to his will, controlling their minds.”
I stared into Aishe’s eyes. “That is a crime punishable by death, Aishe. Immediate and swift death. No trial, no hearing. Immediate disposal.”
Aishe gulped.
I nodded. “When he was discovered, Nanthar fled with his enslaved mages to the southern continent and continued to enslave others. It wasn’t long before he had an entire continent under his control. Imagine that, Aishe.
An entire continent. Imagine what power that would have taken, the immense strength of his will. To keep all those millions of creatures under his control... It’s horrifying and fascinating.”
Aishe’s eyes were wide, his hands gripping the side of the hot springs. I had to pause, to get over my continued fascination with Nanthar’s abilities. Being a mage, knowing the flow and possibilities of magick, I couldn’t help but be fascinated and intrigued by the idea of so much power. It wasn’t what he used it for that intrigued me the most but the very fact that he could do it. That he had done it. His power was dizzying.
“The mages who had escaped his grasp declared war on him,” I continued. “Many died, and the southern continent was decimated. Nanthar was captured by all the mages using their magick as one. Then he was beheaded.”
“Beheaded?”
I nodded. “As mages grow older, we not only become more powerful, but also harder to kill. We heal quicker but our senses also amplify. Beheading us is the best way, if you can catch us unawares. Then our corpses are set on fire and burned to ash.”
I took a deep breath. “Kierthak was the second seventh son of a seventh son. After Nanthar, the mages kept a close eye on large seela families. They made sure no seventh son was born to continue the cycle.”
“I would imagine it would be hard to keep track of everyone,” Aishe commented.
“It was. And that’s why Kierthak slipped under their notice. While they looked at big families, they neglected to keep track of those children who died young. A family might have four sons currently living, but they might have lost two at a young age. They matter.”
“What did--” Aishe cleared his throat. “What did the mages do to a seventh son that was obviously a seventh son?”
I met Aishe’s eyes. “What do you think?”
Aishe looked ill. I touched his shoulder and rubbed. “I honestly can’t blame them for being careful, Aishe. One life sacrificed for many? It’s harsh, but it works.”
Aishe didn’t say anything. I knew he didn’t agree, and while the mages’ actions sickened me, I could understand their cold logic.
“Kierthak was the seventh son, but he only had two brothers living. His father had been a seventh son with three brothers living at the time of his birth. Kierthak’s powers came to him at puberty, like any other mage, and he gained a mentor. He kept his heritage to himself and gained a reputation for having a nasty temper. He wasn’t as cunning as Nanthar and revealed himself too soon.
But then, he just started destroying everything within his reach.”
I grew weary and sank lower in the hot water. “He led the Council on a merry chase through all of Karishian.
Burning, drowning, destroying everything and everyone in a strange frenzied need to annihilate all life.”
“They caught him, right?”
“Sort of. His sanity cracked when they caught up with him, and when they tried to capture and behead him, he took his own life. By using all his magick to send out a death cyrse. It was the strongest death cyrse known to history.”
“What is a death cyrse?” Aishe whispered.
“When a mage dies, we can direct the last of our magick into a cyrse that we link to the creature or creatures that we feel wronged us. The cyrse lasts for as long as the creature or creatures are alive. It infuses with their own magick, sustaining it.”
“So -- what did Kierthak do for his cyrse?”
“Well, since his mind was cracked, it was a strange thing.” I stood straighter and leaned back against the side of the pool, my elbows propped behind me. “He laid the cyrse on his seela family. They never had any more sons, only daughters. His father’s surname was lost to history, and no one now knows who Kierthak’s family actually was.”
“I wonder why he chose them to lay the cyrse on?” Aishe pondered.
“I know why.” I climbed out of the hot springs and grabbed my clothes, drying myself with a word.
“Why?” Aishe followed me.
“He hated them for giving him life. He didn’t want what happened to him to happen to anyone else.”
“Are you now speaking about him or yourself?”
I snorted and tugged on my trousers. “You’re quick, Aishe.”
“No, I just know you.”
I snapped the clasps of my jacket close as Aishe pulled on his tunic.
“Did the mages keep a closer eye on seventh sons after that?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” I said as we walked out of the hot spring cave and up the crumbling stairs. “But seelas kept multiplying so quickly that they still lost track of how many sons a family had. Then, many centuries later, another seventh son was born. His name was Lazur, and he had five brothers who were still alive. The first son had died as an infant, and most thought of him as just the sixth son.”
Aishe was silent as we came to th
e first floor. I closed the door behind us and took a breath.
“He knew what he was. He knew his purpose. He decided to run toward his destiny instead of running away from it. He was going to have a son. A seventh son. One he could control, one he could wield like a weapon of world-wide destruction. Everyone would bow to his glory.”
I stopped talking and stared at the wall.
“How do you know he thought all that?” Aishe whispered.
I smiled bitterly and met his eyes. “Because Lazur, my bastard father, told me.”
***
Evening fell, and Aishe and I sat in the largest parlor room. Aishe was stretched out on the sofa, a journal in his hand, his eyes moving rapidly over the pages. I sat in a chair next to the sofa, brooding, staring into the fire.
A food tray sat on the table in front of us. We’d eaten supper already, and the boygles had yet to clean up our mess. I was slumped in my chair, my hands clenched.
When the storm broke, I would have to confront Nanna and Dyrc. The waiting was torturing me. I should probably practice my magick, especially since things were going to get worse before they got better. I was getting flabby -- too comfortable in my bliss with Aishe and my own confidence in my security. But even though Geheimnis could stand up to a full scale assault against the Council, I wasn’t sure for how long. Damage would be done, and it just wasn’t a scenario I was comfortable with considering.
I sighed deeply and leaned forward, propping my chin on my folded hands, my elbows resting on my thighs.
Magick wasn’t just about power -- it was about will. Desire and will had to become one before magick could work properly. If you half-assed it, your spell wouldn’t work or would backfire on you, and trust me, that was an unpleasant experience. Some of the scars on my body were because my desire and will to see the magick done hadn’t been strong enough. If you tried to kill someone with magick, you had to desire it, really and truly want that someone to die.
Doubt about one’s magick was the one thing that could get a mage killed the quickest. I didn’t doubt my magick -- it was my first friend. It had been the means to my escape, and when I learned that it answered only to me -- not to my father -- I had been over the moon with joy. My magick was something that was unique to me; it was mine, completely and utterly.
Magick also had to be constantly used, or the mage became flabby. It was just like any other muscle of the body -- it had to be exercised, flexed, challenged. Endurance was another vital part of magick. That came with knowledge, and the longer a mage lived, the more knowledge he gained and the longer his endurance.
I was young, comparatively. But I was powerful for my age, and I believed my skill was growing daily. But I was beginning to wonder -- with two old and skilled mages at my door -- whether it would be enough to resist them.
Being so far away from other mages, I tended to lose perspective, and I was harshly reminded once more of my youth and my inexperience with combative magick.
I looked over at Aishe. He sat at ease, his legs now bent and propped against the back of the sofa. He looked so comfortable there, so at home. Geheimnis was his home, but as I continued to stare at him, Aishe looked as though he had always been here. Aishe had accepted not just me, but my lifestyle, my isolation. He had grown up in a tribe, in a community, and it shouldn’t have surprised me that he had wanted to go visit Happy Valley. Being among a crowd was what he was used to. Yet, he could also be like this: spending a quiet evening with his mate. Me.
I stood and walked over to him. He bent his legs more, giving me room, his eyes still on the journal’s pages. That easy knowledge of my presence, the consideration of giving me room... He always did that. He always noticed me, even when he wasn’t looking at me.
I sat close and wrapped my arms around his bent legs, resting my chin on his knees. Aishe lifted his eyes, green and loving, and gave me a small smile.
“Have you read this journal? It was written during the time of the Pleesias wars. Where did you find such a treasure?”
“Master Ulezander.” I grabbed the journal and closed it, setting it on the table among the empty plates and goblets.
Aishe raised his eyebrows, but I saw a bright light come into his eyes -- a light that always flared when we were about to make love.
I pushed apart his legs and found no resistance. He gripped my arms and tugged me on top of him. I lay on him, capturing his mouth, drowning in his taste. This was the first time I had actively pushed myself on him. The blowjob in the pool didn’t count; that had been payback.
And sure, I’ve kissed him many times, but he was always the one to actively take it to the next level. This was the first time I had jumped him with the intention of making him mine. I felt need, deep and overwhelming, washing over me like a tidal wave. I had to have him, now, here.
I rubbed my lower half against his groin, and a deep groan escaped him. I felt him harden quickly against my leg. My hands quickly unbuckled his belt, and I pushed up his tunic, needing his warm skin under my hands. He helped, eagerly, and he grinned when he yanked his tunic above his head and flung it away.
Aishe’s eagerness for my touch, for my domination and frequent submission, was something I had no experience with. Though I could count the lovers I’ve had on one hand, none of them had ever expressed such sheer delight at my presence. Though, I had never felt about them the way I did about Aishe. He was so willing to either give or take; it didn’t seem to matter to him. He just wanted me.
I tore off his leggings, and his beautiful naked body filled my gaze. He was never shy about his nudity, and why should he be? He was perfection. Pale, shiny skin over sleek muscles, his long legs ready and willing to wrap around my waist as I claimed him once more. I was more self-conscious as I stripped, but he watched me with desire and passion burning in his eyes. He licked his lips as my trousers fell.
He held out his hand to me, and I came, once more lying on top of him. His hands touched me everywhere, stroking and kneading. I claimed his mouth again, pushing my tongue inside, possessing him. A small moan escaped him, and his tongue played with mine, his mouth opening wider, giving me complete access. With one hand, I gripped his erection and squeezed. Aishe’s quick intake of breath had me grinning. Possessed with my sudden violent need for him, I kissed his face, his eyes, nibbled his chin, wallowing in the taste and scent of my mate.
My mouth lowered to his neck, sucking and nipping.
Aishe squirmed underneath me, his hands gripping my ass, fingering my small hole. His chest was wide and well-sculpted, his nipples were pink, and I couldn’t resist them.
His hands gripped my hair as I sucked one nipple, then the other, both hands now stroking his cock. Grunts were my reward as I continued to torment him, and my tongue slid over his flat belly, swirling around his belly button.
My mouth soon drifted to where my hands were and I devoured my lover, taking as much of him into my mouth as I could.
“Morgorth!” Aishe gasped.
I closed my eyes and sucked, my mind completely focused on my task. I rubbed his sensitive inner thighs, his swollen balls, sliding my fingers through the soft, white hair at his crotch. He trembled underneath me, and his surrender made me slightly light-headed. This courageous, intelligent, resourceful, and gorgeous dialen was intent on binding himself to me, merging his life with mine. I wanted to show him every way I knew just how much I loved him for that.
Before I allowed him release, I straightened and murmured a word, my magick now shimmering just below the surface. Sex always drove it up and sent it burning through my body. A bottle of lube appeared in my hand. I knelt on the sofa and lifted one of Aishe’s legs, propping it on my shoulder. He was now looking at me, his eyes green flame, his breathing uneven. His face was flushed, and his hands gripped the arm of the sofa where his head lay. I watched the muscles of his arms tremble and relished the knowledge that I had done that. I had turned this talented warrior into a trembling heap of need.
He did it so frequ
ently to me; I thought it was time for me to dominate wholly.
I slicked his hole and my fingers before pushing them inside. Aishe moaned low, the sound coming from his chest. I realized with a start that I never wanted that sound to be taken away from me. I never wanted him to be taken away from me. Suddenly, as if struck by lightning, all my doubts and fears were blasted away, and I had a moment of singular clarity.
The only thing that mattered was that Aishe stay with me. Aishe was mine -- and that was it. That was all.
Without Aishe I would die. I would just wither and die and rot in a ditch somewhere.
Aishe was my reason. My reason not to become the monster destiny proclaimed I would become. Now, at this moment, was when I had to actively decide to fight and to struggle to avert my destiny -- for Aishe. For this dialen who lay beneath me, his eyes filled with passion...and confusion.
“Morgorth?”
I realized I had stilled, my fingers had stopped moving, preparing him. My magick suddenly flared hot, and I knew Aishe saw something in my eyes because his own widened.
I withdrew my fingers and quickly slicked my own cock.
Then I gripped Aishe’s hips and drove inside him rather roughly.
Aishe’s body jerked in surprise, and a small cry escaped him. But he didn’t flinch, he didn’t tell me to stop. He gripped my arms and held on as I rammed into him, my magick swirling around dizzily inside me.
Part of my fear at Aishe staying with me was the idea that I might harm him, should my destiny fall upon me. As that monster, I feared that I might even kill him. But as I stared into his eyes, thrust into his body, and as my moment of clarity continued, I knew those fears were without logic.
I would never harm Aishe. Even angry at him, I never once considered harming him. I had turned away, and the desire to attack never entered my mind. Harming him would mean I was harming myself.
He was my heart. My soul.
