by Kyle Belote
“How long did it take you?” Julie asked, curious.
“Not long, at least for me. Regularity is the key.” Lily reached up and kissed Julie delicately. The inner stirring returned to her eyes. Julie reached out, holding the wife, drinking her in. Eventually, Lily pulled away.
“What is that powder Kam took?” Julie inquired. She glanced at him as he slumbered in bed, devoid of clothing or sheets. The urge to mount him as he slept enticed her.
“Something that I wish he would quit using,” Lily said weakly. “They call it Oblivion, and because of it, he will be out until at least tomorrow afternoon. You did well tonight, considering.”
“What?” Julie asked, unsure of what she meant.
“You joined us without taking Rakette.”
“What’s Rakette?”
“It’s an herbal concoction meant to amplify your sexual desires and can make you do things you would have never considered before. If you ever do partake, be careful. Only use it with those you truly trust.” Lily reached out and kissed Julie again, affectionate, velvet rolled in her mouth. Though Julie’s needs were met, she desired more. Lily pulled away first. “We will be here for the rest of the week visiting his sister, then we’ll be returning to Ralloc. What about you? Do you live in Ralloc?”
“Yes, sometimes,” she lied. The truth is that she didn’t have anywhere to call home, and she hoped Lily would want to see her again. “But I am headed south. I had planned to leave tomorrow…” she let the sentence trail off.
“I hope you don’t. It would be nice to … see you again?” Lily pecked her cheek and bade her goodnight.
The mage stood outside the door for a few moments. Sleepiness coaxed her into returning to her room at the end of the hall. A smile spread across her face, but the cold presence quashed the giddiness, so strong and near. She crossed the room in three quick strides and peered through the window. Not a light flickered in the other houses, trees swayed darkly in the distance. The ominous feeling receded, and she latched the window secure before checking her other window. The presence subsided until she couldn’t detect it anymore.
What am I, a child? Am I afraid of the dark now? she thought to herself. The mage brushed it off as nothing more than jitters.
With a pitcher of water resting on the dresser top, she poured it into a bowl to wash her face. She toweled herself dry and poured a cup of water, taking the two herbs Lily had given her, remembering her instructions. One moonleaf and she couldn’t become pregnant for a month.
That might come in handy with those two here, she mused humorously. But the burden of her task lay before her, and she weighed the pros and cons of staying or going. Julie needed to get to the Melodic Mountains, but she didn’t need Kam and Lily. Perhaps her lust-filled head, or something else entirely, coerced her, but after meeting the couple, she decided to stay.
Her clothes discarded, the floor boards creaked as she crossed her room and snuffed out the candle on the nightstand. Under the covers of her feather bed, her body ached in forgotten comfort and drowsiness greeting her like a paramour. As she drifted off, she idly wondered if Kam and Lily was a figment or real. Since the Corridor, she couldn’t be sure. She hoped her imagination didn’t run away with her sanity.
She believed as she went to sleep, having been rattled from the Shadowcasting, the presence she inferred was portrayed by her jitters.
Then the nightmares began.
In her dream, a shadow reeking of death, one that she had seen before, attacked her. Claws raked through her, twisted fingers lashing out, scratching her face and neck. It’s long, skeletal nails dug deep into her skull and plunged horrible thoughts, feelings, and images into her mind.
She woke with a start, gasping for air with her hand around her throat. The dark of her room greeted her. Julie fumbled for the lantern on the night table. The light cast an eerie orange glow about the room. Panic flooded through her, noticing something out of place. Her clothes were strung about the room, not in the pile she had left them. The water bowl was overturned, but no water splashed the floor. A cool breeze fell across her face. With a jerk of her head, she glanced at the opposite side of her room.
Her window was open.
***
Chapter 48 : Xilor
Night blanketed the land and wrapped Gryzlaud Palace in shadows. The cold lingered, seeping through the stone. Xilor sat, sprawled upon his high-back throne. In a previous life, he had filled his waking eyes with vast amounts of precious treasure. The trappings of his old life clung to him like rotten flesh. A new obsession curled through him: control, those he commanded and those he wanted to.
Simplicity ruled his life now, only necessities.
Once, there had been a time, when rich wines, fine meats, and delectable vegetables and fruit filled his plate. The expense of his lavish life cost more than the earnings of five families in a year. Now he only ate if he needed to conserve his strength, his power sustained him and warded off sleep, both a necessity for the weak. Hunger drove his anger and frustration, which fueled the hate, and urged his body and potential. A continuous cycle, a key component for his abilities.
The world slept while he stayed awake, planning, plotting, scheming; destinies forged and abolished while his slaves slumbered. He searched for weaknesses to exploit, noting several: their defenses, their strategies, in the magic they used. Other fragilities existed too, like the spirit, the heart of emotions, and the mind of choice.
Xilor’s brilliance for strategy and tactics came from a long life around the right people. He learned by their guidance and strived to be the best. Studies prepared him in his youth; tutelage sharpened his skills, and apprenticeship under his former master, Hadius Lacove, turned him into a weapon. Xilor’s acumen orchestrated Hadius’ fall. Though his former mentor boasted his own brilliance, he failed to use his wit and cunning to exploit the realm. For all his guile, he never envisioned Xilor’s betrayal or the actuality to foresee his success.
Perhaps with greater sagacity, the more you forget personalities and character, becoming so engrossed that you become ignorant of reasoning.
Though the thought troubled him, he didn’t want to believe it. He always watched his back, specifically around his apprentices. One person gained his trust, Judas, and the morals that shackled him.
“Judas,” Xilor sneered into the quiet cold. Hatred boiled within him at the mere thought of the man, yet, beneath the hate, a grudging respect interred. How could someone younger and less powerful defeat him? Comparatively speaking, Xilor believed he held the edge regarding potency.
The truth about Judas–one Xilor denied confronting–was that Judas wasn’t weak. The warlock chose to hold back instead of unleashing his true potential, and to Xilor’s appraisal, made him weak. In Judas’ weakness, he fostered a secret and garnered the advantage when they last met. After all those years trapped in the Mirror, the sorcerer was no closer to the answer.
Xilor had his own secrets, his biggest trumped all others, including the warlock’s. He gloated silently, savoring his prize. It was so perfect and earth shattering, and when revealed, it would deliver a blow to the realm and Ermaeyth.
Especially to Judas.
Nothing is more satisfactory than reaching into the heart of someone or something, person or idea, and ripping it out.
The world needed cleansing. He promised to raze it unless someone gave him Judas. Even if, by some lucky chance, someone turned Judas over to him, Xilor would still reforge the world. True, his process deviated from his original intent, but sacrifices bowed to unavoidable eventualities. Other reasons helped forge his chosen path. He only started to truly understand before Judas defeated him. His confinement opened his eyes.
A familiar presence brushed his consciousness, one he felt many times before, one he created. A sole, faithful Xicx returned. It was still far enough away that the Xicx couldn’t feel him, but the master sensed the nearing slave.
Saihk returned from his assignment, one of utmost finesse.
Xilor’s plans hinged on the Xicx’s success. Black cloth and smoke swirled, forming into the half-corporeal, half-apparition form. Saihk was not just a Xicx, but the Lord of the Xicx. Xilor selected his Xicx from wizardkind, goblin, or any other follower and converted into a sheol.
Sheol, half-ghost and half-physical in form, survived with twisted souls. Xilor’s genius harnessed the latter and bound them to the former. The Dark Lord discovered only the tormented would exist inside the sheol if bent, commanded by another. Xilor himself constructed the first sheol, binding the spirit he called forth to his will, and then created another to bind to the first sheol. The two original sheol regenerated quickly, multiplying into a race of their own.
Xicx, though similar, differed. The first Xicx he made was the Lord of the Xicx, taking a mortal he favored and bound his soul to the mortal spirit, and placing it into the body of a sheol. Saihk, given liberty, converted anyone he chose, and those that followed tethered to him. The process, a beautiful, dark design from the twisted, arcane mind of Xilor. Simplistic yet infallible. He controlled one soul, the Xicx Lord, and through him, everyone else followed.
“My lord,” Saihk rasped, kneeling. “I located this prodigy per your orders.”
Xilor allowed himself a small, cruel smile. “Excellent,” he said with a quiet cold. “And did you complete the second part of your mission?”
“Yes, my lord, though with great difficulty. For reasons unknown, she was aware of my presence while I carried out the task. However, what you asked for is done. Even in her sleep, she fought me, but I succeed in placing the trace on her.”
This bit of news troubled Xilor. If she was an amateur like he sensed, how could she detect Saihk? Could she detect what they did to her? Only time would unfold this mystery, but for now, he turned his attention to more important, looming events, satisfied with Saihk’s success.
Xilor leaned forward, peering down on his creation. “You have done exceedingly well,” he praised Saihk. “You may go.”
Saihk bowed his head to the floor and vanished.
Xilor rose. Now that he was alone and awaited none, he set out to learn more about this prodigy. With a nudge of intent, he vanished from the throne room and reformed in a small, near-empty room high in his palace. No one knew of this room, and if they did, he would kill them for the knowledge. This room held one of his most prized secrets. The walls mirrored the stone as the rest of the castle; an ever-persistent chill enveloped the room.
“I have returned,” he cooed softly. A grin spread across his face beneath his hood, the gloat bleeding into his voice.
“I knew you would be,” a voice responded.
“Does that frighten you?” Xilor heckled.
“Why would it?” There was no one in the room with Xilor, nothing but a cabinet in the otherwise empty chamber.
Xilor, seeing his gloating failed to elicit the desired response, tried a different tact. “Has anything happened in my absence of form?” he questioned cautiously.
“Yes,” came the cryptic reply.
“And?”
“You will fall because of it.”
Rage surged in his chest, but he restrained himself from destroying the room. He was unstoppable, the master of death.
Who dares to stand against me now? he seethed. “How?” the sorcerer breathed, barely controlling his trembling rage.
“She will keep you from your destiny, but she may also take your place.”
“She? Who is she?” demanded Xilor.
“A myth, a legend manifested. Where she hails from, I do not know. How educated are you in the histories of the races of the Domain?”
“Depending on the race,” Xilor responded truthfully, grudgingly.
“Depending on the race? Surely I taught you better!” screamed the voice with power and force. The room reverberated. Power emanated from the voice, and it rebuffed Xilor. Even now, defeated, strength radiated from him. Perhaps too strong. Doubt whispered in the back of Xilor’s mind. Was it possible for the voice to gain strength since his departure? The thought required investigating.
“The fairies,” the voice continued, “believe in a legend of a powerful mage who will eventually be brought forth, from beyond Ermaeyth. This mage will form a perfect balance of light and darkness. An Elder Fairy must give up a wing for the mage, and form a bond between the race and the mage. This legend is from long ago, almost at the beginning of magic.”
“Skip to the part about how I kill this mage or how I can bend this mage to my will?”
“You cannot bend her will to yours.”
“Who is she?” Xilor growled.
“I have answered that question.”
“Fine,” Xilor groaned in frustration. “Where is she?”
“Far Point.”
The prodigy? Impossible!
Xilor whirled around and wrenched the door open, robes billowing in his wake. He could teleport away, but the walk gave him time to contemplate his next move. Need urged him to watch the mage, observe her, and find a way to bend her to his will. If she refused, he’d kill her.
Though tempted to devote more time to the conundrum, he had other plans already in motion. His feet carried him back to his throne where he sat and decided his next move.
***
Chapter 49 : The Previous Life Of Lily
The next week passed in a haze of detailed promiscuity and Julie didn’t want it to end. Ever. Every night they engaged, and sometimes, throughout the day. Julie noticed that when other people went about their activities, the desires didn’t take hold. In Kam and Lily’s presence, it roared back to life like emitted pheromones destined for only her. In gluttony and greed, she drank. She exhausted every waking moment with Lily.
On the morning of the following day, Lily came to her room, stirring the younger from slumber. Lily disrobed and pulled her into the bath. “Kam wants to play with you again,” she beamed.
“What? Now?”
“Tonight, if that’s alright?”
Giddy, Julie nodded. “Sure.” Her head swam in Lily’s presence.
“We need to make preparations, then.”
“What preparations?”
Lily held up a razor and Julie frowned. “I’ll be gentle, but it pleases him,” she stated, before shaving Julie smooth like her, using Kam’s shaving oil and lather. “He’s taken a liking to you,” Lily assured her, relentlessly, that she was fine with their relations, almost to the point of emphatic.
Late that night, she presented Julie to her husband. Lily attended from a chair while Kam took her, just the two of them, which became a common occurrence and made the wife happy. If Julie was truthful, she preferred when Lily was there, watching her. She always kept eye contact, and divined a connection to Lily while she made love to her husband. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Julie thought this strange, but Lily achieved gratification, and when pressed, and the older woman placated her worries.
On the second night, after Kam chased Oblivion, Julie pressed Lily. “Why do you stop me? Do you not like me?”
Lily blinked and smiled. “Oh, I like you just fine, but our time together isn’t about me, it’s about him. My husband’s pleasure and happiness is the most important thing to me. Whatever he asks, I do. He likes you.”
“How do you know?”
To this, Lily only smiled. Instead, she countered. “Which do you prefer?”
“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “You. Him. Both? What about you?”
“I prefer men, but I like women, too, I am just selective.”
Julie took it as a compliment and decided not to press her any further.
There were several sides to the quiet, well-muscled man. Hours spent as a blacksmith in Ralloc toned him though he hailed from the Forgotten Isles. He didn’t speak much, but when he did, only soft spoken words meant for his wife passed his lips. Julie received her fair share and savored his adoration.
In her room, alone, he was soft and gentle in his indulgence and other times he almo
st hurt her, just shy of the threshold of pain. At times he would please her orally before copulating, sometimes he desired the same of Julie. Repeatedly, he took Julie from behind in ways she was sure most men did not. Slow and gentle, she learned Kam’s penchant. She tried to please him, remembering the ease in which his wife mastered his passions. Lily enjoyed watching Julie struggle.
The first time he took her solely in that manner caught her by surprise. Lily, aware of his intentions, either by facial expression or in the way he carried himself, warned against his want.
“She won’t do it; she can’t.”
Julie looked between the two, her head swimming. “I want to.”
Lily laughed. “You don’t realize what you are asking.”
“Will it please him?” Julie posed to Lily.
With a solemn face and a slow nod, she answered, “Very much so.”
“Then, I want to.”
“Do you trust me?” Lily asked.
“Yes,” Julie breathed without hesitation.
“Then you will need Rakette for this.”
Julie took the herbal compound Rakette. A few moments after downing the dosage, she felt all her sexual desires heightened. A kiss from Lily sent chills arching through her body, her pupils dilating. Satisfied that the herb took hold, Lily let Kam have her. She was never far from Julie during her newest encounter, making sure she received as much satisfaction as Kam did.
Afterward, she asked Lily about the encounter, she chuckled and said, “Kam is a Forgotten Islander. You’ve never heard about them?” She waved the question away, “I’m not sure how much truth there is to reputation, I never asked. Who knows, maybe its a cultural thing. I’ve done worse.”
Curiosity piqued, she desired to inquire further, but Lily’s face made her come up short, knowing the timing wasn’t right.
Learning, Julie watched the couple from the edge of the bed, her head swimming with magelust. Each night Lily would teach Julie something new, things that would take her years to discover on her own if she had ever truly been open with her sexuality.
