by Dante King
A staccato rush of images. An unreeling of history and memories and events that I had never seen rushed past my mind’s-eye, quick as machine gun fire.
A faceless couple holding hands; running, laughing, chasing each other through corridors that I recognized as belonging to the Academy. Grunting, sweating, moving flesh—was that two people fucking? A swirl of darkness, a kaleidoscope of stars. The faceless man floated in a void, the staff outstretched in front of him, a cape billowing about his shoulders. A galaxy burst into being, a world. The woman appeared, and she ripped mountains up from the bones of the Earth before she filled the holes with water. A snap of fingers, and forests bloomed. Then there was blood, screaming, fire, and death. I felt sorrow. Deep sorrow. I looked down and saw that I was holding the staff in my hands, while next to me, the faceless woman held a baby. I looked closely at the baby’s face, and it morphed into—
Me.
I gasped, coming out of the vision or trance like I was surfacing from an ice-bath. My heart was hammering in my chest, but there was a warmth spreading through my belly. It felt like a key had been turned in my consciousness, a door opened, and sudden comprehension was flooding in. I wondered how long I had been trancing out for.
“Holy shit!” I said, looking up at the Prophet King. “Those two people, they’re my parents?”
The Prophet King nodded slowly. “Yes. Zenidor and Istrea. They are your parents,” he said.
Wordlessly, I passed the staff over to Enwyn. She took it and instantly went rigid. Her eyes were wide open behind her glasses. Then, suddenly, she relaxed with a great gasp.
“Did you see them?” I asked.
She nodded slowly and passed the black diamond staff to Cecilia, who in turn passed it on to Janet.
“Can you believe it?” I asked excitedly, when Janet had come back to herself with a sharp gasp. “My parents were from your world!”
“With this vision, the High Council’s spell should have at least been lifted from your minds to some degree,” the Gemstone King said.
“I think I saw some paintings of my parents in my frathouse. I thought maybe I was drunk or that the artist couldn’t draw faces, because the faces on the painting were blurry. But it must have been the High Council’s spell.”
“Yes…” Janet said, nodding. “I remember Zenidor and Istrea now, remember their names at least.” She snapped her fingers. “That’s where I saw them! In my father’s sacred room in the Eldritch Prison. No one is allowed in there, not even me, but I snuck in there once.” She shivered. “Never again. There was some crazy shit in there. I still don’t remember much about it, but I do remember seeing portraits of those two—of Zenidor and Istrea. Of your parents.”
To my surprise, she fixed me with those big hazel eyes of hers, and I saw that there was a mix of fear and awe in them.
Before I could ask what she was looking so worried about, Enwyn touched me lightly on the shoulder. In her face too, I could read a little consternation.
“Justin,” she said, “this is...this is a momentous revelation.”
“You’re telling me,” I said, “I’m the one who just found out that his parents had the magical abilities to birth galaxies and build worlds and—
“Destroy them,” Enwyn said. “Zenidor and Istrea were the Creation Mages who brought about the Void Wars, and if you’re their son…”
I frowned and then laughed. “What? You think that I might be a chip off the old block and have a bit of a penchant for universal destruction?”
Enwyn didn't say anything but gave me an appraising look from under those sexy, sharp eyebrows.
I was feeling pretty buoyed up by this sudden piece of unexpected family history, and I didn’t want to have the feeling hijacked and taken off to Negative Town. My parents might have been these badass mages. They may have done some pretty gnarly stuff and brought about a war from which the magical worlds were only now just recovering from—and that was a bummer, sure. But they were both dead and gone now, and I knew my own heart, knew myself. There was too much potential to have a good time with magic. There was no need to go all dark with it, even if I’d known how to.
I turned to the Prophet King and handed him back the diamond staff. He took it reverently, then cast it back into the air so that it hung once more suspended just behind the throne.
“Your Majesty,” I said, “after having you show me this vision of my parents—of my history—can I presume that you won’t be mushing us into dog-food today?”
The Prophet King shook his great boulder of a head. “None of you shall be harmed this day. You are the son of Zenidor and Istrea. In fact, I have something else planned for you; a feast in your honor.”
“That sounds great,” I said, “but if it’s all the same to you, we really need to get our hands on the tail feathers of a Cockatrice so that we can get back to the Academy. Any chance you have some lying about?”
The King shook his head again. “It is growing late,” he said and, indeed, the light was fading. I supposed that the enormous central crystal mirrored the sun in the outside world. The phosphorescent vines probably transferred the solar energy from the outside of the temple to the central core. “Tomorrow, I shall furnish you with everything that you need to safely hunt a Fern-tailed Cockatrice, but for tonight, I would be honored if you made use of my hospitality. Feast with us. Then you may retire to the chambers that we have made ready and rest in safety.”
I looked at the women. They all looked in need of something to eat and, more importantly, a drink. Cecilia in particular looked captivated by the idea of a lie down. Her bright blue eyes were fastened on mine, a smile playing about her suggestive lips.
I swallowed, wrenching my brain from where it was rolling about in the gutter with Cecilia’s brain, and smiled at the Gemstone King.
“Who could refuse an offer like that?” I asked. “Let’s eat!”
I had never been to a feast before—there’s not a huge call for them within the second-hand occult bookstore trade on Earth, and my uncle had always been more of a nachos in front of the football kind of guy—but I had my expectations as to what one should include. These expectations were met and, I think, surpassed by the spread that the Prophet King had waiting for us in his banqueting hall.
“Do you have any idea what any of these foods are?” I asked Cecilia.
She shook her head. “I wouldn’t worry though, you seem to be the King’s new favorite,” she said slyly, “so I doubt he’d go to all the trouble of cooking this lot only to poison you.”
I hadn’t actually been thinking of poison but had merely been curious to know if there was a steak among the plethora of strange dishes arrayed before us.
“Justin, do not fear,” the Prophet King said, “everything at this table is safe for the consumption of humans.”
“That’s a relief,” I said thickly, speaking through a mouthful of some sort of meat kebab.
I had been sat at the place of honor, on the Prophet King’s right. Opposite me was one of the most singularly arresting women that I had ever seen. She was a Gemstone Elemental, that much was abundantly clear—the radiant semi-transparent body, the gold and white eyes, and the opalescent sheen to her skin were dead giveaways—and I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She was wrapped in a misty dress that was more water vapor than fabric, and it kept drawing my eye like the flashiest ring in the jeweler’s window.
“This is my daughter, Alura, the Princess of the Gemstone Elementals, Justin,” the Prophet King said, making the introductions. “My dear, this is Justin Mauler, son of Zenidor and Istrea.”
I was about to ask the king how he knew my surname, but as someone who called himself a prophet, I figured I already knew how he’d learned it. Besides, I had other things on my mind, like his beautiful daughter whom I turned to and gave my most charming smile as she offered me her hand. I gave it a shake and was on the verge of actually kissing the hand that she offered me, but I thought that might be going a bit over the top.
“It’s a pleasure,” I said, smiling.
She smiled shyly back at me. Unlike the King, she openly wore a crown of gold and sapphires on her head. Her grip was cool as marble, but smooth like her fathers, like tiny, smoothed river stones inside of a silk glove.
“The pleasure is very much mine,” she said.
I couldn’t help but wonder whether the eye-contact we exchanged was slightly lengthier than the occasion called for.
It’s very hard not to enjoy a feast. My uncle had always said that I was about as cultured as yogurt but, to my mind, a feast is basically your more upmarket buffet dinner. It’s like Sizzler with silver plates and free booze.
What’s not to love about that?
The food was delicious if not mostly mysterious to me. There were mounds of roasted pink tubers, tureens of fluffy moss that reminded me of cous-cous, roasted meats, and crystal platters of sweet delicacies.
I made a little conversation with Princess Alura, but she answered sparingly. I wasn’t sure whether it was because she was shy or because her old man sat gleaming right next to her, but all I managed to get out of her was that the delicious frothy ale that we were drinking was made by fermenting some sort of cave moss. Once she had told me, I definitely became aware of a quite mineral edge to the brew, but it was far from unpleasant. It was not long before the whole room took on a nice warm glow. This might have had something to do with the enormous golden glow-worms that were ushered across the ceiling as night fell, and gave off the same cozy ambiance as a candle chandelier might have, but I thought that most of the credit could be placed in the moss-ale’s lap.
I kept exchanging lazy smiles with Janet, who was sitting across from me. As I drank more of the tasty ale, my mind started wandering down Memory Lane, back to the night when we first met and first got together—the turning point in my magical career, and my life. At times, as the music supplied by the Gemstone Elemental quartet in the corner swelled, I found myself unconsciously recalling what she looked like naked. We’d had a lot to drink that night, and I was not at all adverse to having another go and refreshing my memory.
Suddenly, just when I was thinking of the best way to broach the subject, I felt a hand slide smoothly up my thigh and come to rest a bare inch or so from where Justin junior was residing in my pants. I glanced to my left and found Enwyn looking at me over the top of her spectacles. She leaned toward me, and I felt her breath tickling my ear as she whispered, “Janet and I are sleepy. You wouldn’t mind escorting two defenseless females to their chamber, would you?”
I was feeling a little lethargic myself and thought that walking the two women back to wherever it was we were all staying might be just the thing to wake me up a little.
“Sure,” I said.
In a twinkling—literally, because the guy was extremely well-polished and buffed to a mirror shine—there was a page at my elbow.
“Are you wishing to retire, sir?” he asked.
“Just need to take these ladies back to their room, if you’re able to show me the way?” I said, managing to get my tongue under some semblance of control.
The Elemental page bowed slightly and set off out of the main doors to the banquet hall. We followed, leaving Cecilia to work her aristocratic magic on the Prophet King’s daughter.
The page left us outside the door of Janet and Enwyn’s room with another obsequious little bow. I felt like I should tip him but, of course, I had neither money nor any idea what passed for currency in this place.
I was on the verge of saying goodnight, when Janet grasped me by the hand and pulled me into the room, Enwyn shutting the door behind us. The apartment that the women had been furnished with was as lavish as the rest of the palatial complex had been. I didn’t notice much of the interior decor if I was honest though, because within ten seconds of the door closing, Janet had unlaced the front of her top and pulled her shirt open to reveal a pair of fantastic breasts.
“That’s better,” she said.
I was inclined to agree with her.
I looked around, keen to see what Enwyn, our Induction Officer, was going to make of this sudden nudity, but to my delight, I found that Enwyn—somehow—was already butt-naked and heading for a set of doors on the other side of the room. Her ass moved in that particularly sensual way that women were able to employ as they walked away, the way which turned the brains of most red-blooded males to porridge.
“Anyone joining me for a bath?” she threw out casually over her shoulder.
“Oh, a bath would be just the thing,” Janet said, grinning wickedly at me. She slipped easily out of her clothes so that she too was dressed only in her birthday suit and headed toward the door that Enwyn had disappeared through. I could already hear the sound of water gushing.
With literally no conscious thought, I tore off my jacket, pulled my shirt over my head, kicked my boots off, and flung my staff onto a nearby couch. My cock was already shaking off the booze, even if my mind was still drunk, and I walked into the large bathroom sporting an erection that you could have moored a boat too.
There are some sights that do not need flowery language or any real explanation as to why they are so fantastic, and the spectacle of two women soaping each other’s breasts is one of them.
“And here’s me thinking that I skipped on dessert,” I said, leaning against the wall and allowing my eyes to move slowly over the glorious sight in front of me. “When the hell did you two cook up this plan?”
“Well, we were just chatting over dinner, you know,” Janet said, “and with more and more of that moss-ale the better and better it sounded...”
It was looking better and better the more I looked at it.
Enwyn was sat, leaning against one end of an enormous sunken stone bathtub while, at the other end, steaming, geothermally heated water gushed out of a stone pipe. Enwyn’s legs were spread, and Janet sat nestled up against the Gothic older woman, while Enwyn rubbed Janet’s tits with soap and flicked her fingers across her nipples.
“You better get in here and join us, Mr.Mauler,” Enwyn said, giving Janet’s nipples a firm tweak so that the younger woman gasped and writhed against her. “You look dirty.”
I stepped into the beautiful warm water and sat down, my cock throbbing with sudden lust.
“You just sit back and let us clean each other up,” Janet purred, that wicked grin still on her face. “Then we’ll take care of you. You just sit back and enjoy the show.”
And so I did.
Janet squirmed against Enwyn’s wet body as the bath slowly filled up. Enwyn’s hands glided over Janet’s skin, leaving bubbles in their wake. She toyed with Janet’s nipples for a while, until I could see that they were stiff enough to cut glass, then she slowly, deliberately, moved her hands down, under the water. Janet moaned loudly and started to hump Enwyn’s hand as Enwyn fingered her. I couldn’t see much, but the whole thing was almost sexier because of that. It was all I could do not to jump in there myself, but the longer I held out, I was sure, the better it’d be when I subbed into the game. Both women were looking directly at me as they played with each other.
Janet started bucking more and more forcefully against Enwyn’s hand.
“That’s it, there’s a good little mage,” Enwyn muttered into the other woman’s ear, all the while looking at me.
Suddenly, Janet convulsed and let out a little scream. Then she relaxed into the bath, grinning at me.
“Now, it’s the IO’s turn,” she said.
Enwyn hoisted herself up out of the bath and sat on the edge, spreading her legs in a pose more often found in the dirtiest types of magazines. Water ran down her toned stomach and into the thin strip of hair that led down to her sex.
“I think that this general area could do with some close attention,” she said, and pulled Janet’s face hard up against her crotch. Janet instantly went to work, tonguing Enwyn’s box while the older woman ground her pelvis into the Storm Mage’s face.
I undoubtedly had t
he best view in the house. Sitting at the other end of the capacious tub, Janet’s ass was right in front of me, wet and shining, her immaculately shaved vagina gaping obscenely. I reached out and gave her backside a playful swat. Janet gasped, but carried on giving Enwyn head.
After only a few minutes of this, I found that I couldn’t take it anymore. This feeling coincided with Enwyn breathlessly saying, “Get in here, Justin, this is lovely, but it could be so much better.”
I sat up and, in one smooth motion, thrust into Janet’s gaping sex from behind. With that insertion, I felt a surging tingle of electricity flow through me, from the tip of my cock all the way to the ends of my hair and toes. Janet cried out in ecstasy as I began pumping away at her doggy-style. With every stroke her face was forced into Enwyn’s crotch, and soon all three of us were grunting and gasping like we were running some sort of epic marathon. The weird energy that I had felt on first entering Janet was building and building. At times, out of the corner of my eye, I thought that I could see ripples of faint blue light periodically rippling across areas of our bodies, jumping from her skin to mine. At one point, Janet reached back with both hands and spread her asscheeks so that I could penetrate her as deeply as possible. I took the hint and started fucking her with a renewed vigor.
“I’m close, I’m close!” Enwyn cried out after a while. “Justin come here and finish me off!”
I didn’t need asking twice. I pulled out of Janet, who moved obediently aside, while Enwyn lay back on the floor—still on the edge of the sunken tub—and opened her legs to the heavens. I grabbed her ankles, forced her legs as wide as they would go, and speared her with my cock. It took only a few minutes of furious fucking on my part before Enwyn started moaning. Then, as I thrust into her, she convulsed and screamed a couple of times in pure unadulterated satisfaction. I pulled out, and a gush of liquid followed my cock as Enwyn came.
It was one of the most erotic things I’d ever seen, and I turned quickly to find Janet right behind me.
“Fuck me,” she said simply.
