Dragan

by Plum Pascal

  I remember the word I shouted earlier in the truck, the word Anona and her henchmen mistook as a spell.

  “Silvanus,” I say.

  The man nods slowly.

  I regard him with interest, like one might a deer in the woods. His eyes are clouded, filled with a deeper sense of understanding that changes his appearance. He’s fundamentally different from me, this I know. A creature of neither shadow nor light. But he’s raw power. It echoes off him in rivulets that charge the air around me.

  It’s almost as if he exists without identity. His presence seems at once both solid and transitional, and I realize his hard, steady gaze is actually a call to follow him.

  I can’t explain why but I feel safe with him here, as if there’s a higher power at work that has my best interests in mind. It’s a comforting thought, considering safety isn’t something I’ve experienced much in recent memory. Of course, there were moments with Dragan when I felt utterly safe—when he made me feel safe.

  That thought causes a deep and sad feeling in the pit of my stomach and I have to release it.

  As I do, I drift toward this natural being, this Silvanus. My legs glide beneath me, seemingly of their own accord.

  The man slinks in and around the trees, at times disappearing entirely and then, just when I think he’s vanished in a wisp of fog, he reappears again. His eyes are deep, intent, and all-seeing, urging me deeper and deeper into the forest. He picks up speed and before long, I’m jogging to keep up with him between the dense thickets of branches.

  I’m panting by the time we reach a small pond, its surface still and covered with ethereal curtains of mist that hang in the chilly air. Finally, I see the man appear in his full form.

  He’s large and pale, the ideal of the male form with sinewy muscles and long, lean limbs. He’s entirely naked, but no part of him is innately sexual (though to deny my sense of deep attraction and fascination would be untrue). His cock is limp but large and I find it difficult to keep my eyes on his face.

  When he speaks, it’s as if his voice enters me from the ground up, rather than from his mouth to my ears. It’s the voice of the forest, thick, deep and knowing. Unconcerned and yet weighted with world history.

  I have come as a warning, he says as I realize I’m hearing his voice in my head. Of things to come.

  “You can see the future?” I say out loud but then realize I should probably communicate in my mind, the same way he is. You can see the future? I think in return, but as I think the words, I adjust my inflection from a question to a statement. I don’t need his answer to know he can see the future. He’s a being set apart from time. That knowledge reverberates through me.

  But why has he come to me? What does he want from me?

  You seek answers, he replies, ignoring my question. I nod, not quite sure how to respond.

  He takes a few steps closer and I can feel the coldness of the mist that surrounds him. My gaze moves down the line of his body again.

  You have not fed, he remarks as he looks at me.

  I don’t… I start. “I don’t understand,” I say outloud. I don’t know why, but it’s difficult to have a conversation with him within my head.

  You travel with three able-bodied males, and yet they have not copulated with you?

  I drop my head as a blush steals my cheeks. I don’t know what to say, I answer.

  You cannot deny your true nature, female, or you will suffer for it.

  I don’t know what I am, I admit, and he shakes his head.

  You know what you are.

  And then he’s directly in front of me, but I don’t remember seeing him move. I glance down and watch as he moves his left hand forward and brings it between my thighs.

  What, I start but he interrupts.

  You cannot continue to rely on me for the release your body needs.

  I don’t understand why I don’t stop him, but I don’t. I want him to touch me. And when his fingers graze the sensitive nub between my thighs, I feel myself grow wet as I fight to keep a moan from escaping my lips.

  Great motions are at work, he continues as he looks down at me. I fight to pay attention to his words. Motions that will alter the course of history forever.

  You’re referring… to the kings, I say as I glance down at his penis and find it’s now erect and… massive. A thrill begins inside of me, and when he inserts his fingers into me, I close my eyes and rock against him.

  I need this. I’ve needed it.

  And now that he’s delivering me, I lose myself in the blissful feelings that erupt within me.

  I do not care for your wars, for your kings, for your affairs. I care only for nature and the balance within it.

  “But you’re here,” I say, even though the words make little sense to me.

  Because there are those who would destroy this balance.

  His voice sounds as a whisper beside my ear and I feel him gently push me down, towards the ground. I allow him to maneuver me until my back hits the dirt. The mists have cleared from him now, and looking upon his body delights and thrills me.

  Who wants to see the balance destroyed? I ask, trying to focus on our conversation.

  He doesn’t answer, though. Instead, he parts my legs then looks down at me, studying the flesh between my thighs as though it’s a rare and beautiful flower. His fingers continue to dance inside me, stroking and curling.

  Who are you? I wonder. “What are you?” I correct myself.

  He shakes his head. When he pulls his fingers out, they’re covered in the juice of my body. He settles himself between my legs and I feel the head of his erection perched at my opening.

  Are you a god? I press, watching him with interested eyes. He pushes into me slightly and I feel myself stretching to accommodate him.

  Similar, he replies. His breath hitches and he closes his eyes as he plunges inside me. I can’t take my eyes off him.

  Yet you… enjoy pleasures… of the flesh? I ask him, my breath coming in quick gasps. I don’t know why I think the way I do, but carnal activities seem as though they’re the antithesis to anything godlike.

  I am capable of healing you without entering you, he says simply as he withdraws. He holds the tip of his engorged penis at my opening.

  Then why? I start.

  He pushes inside me again, up to the hilt, in one motion. I buck underneath him and throw my head back as a moan captures my mouth.

  Your body is created for mine, he tells me. Your wetness, your passage, your womb. All constructed to accommodate a male. Such is the power of nature, he continues as he thrusts repeatedly inside me, and I feel my peak beginning to build.

  Are you nature? I ask.

  He shakes his head.

  Is Morrigan nature? I continue.

  No, he thinks back immediately.

  “Is she a god, like you?”

  No, he answers again and I feel my body spasm around his, the feeling overcoming me. And then I feel something else… something within me pulling at him, taking from him and filling myself.

  Do you know who you are? he asks.

  I open my mouth, but close it again. I know he isn’t asking for my name, but there’s no other answer I can give him.

  No. I finally shake my head. I suddenly feel… better, more invigorated.

  I feel fed.

  You will come to know and understand in time.

  Why can’t you tell me who I am?

  He shakes his head. It’s for you to learn, young female, he says as he pulls out of me and stands. What I will tell you is what you are.

  Succubus and angel?

  He shakes his head again. You are balance.

  Balance? I don’t understand.

  Between the light and the dark. You are the answer. He pauses and the mist grows even thicker around him. I sense he’s about to leave, but I still don’t know what he’s trying to tell me. And while I notice he hasn’t reached his own orgasm, he seems unconcerned.

  Trust the balance, he continu
es, his eyes boring into mine in such a way that I can feel his gaze all the way down my spine. And do not trust her.

  “Her?” I respond immediately, wanting to capitalize on whatever time is left with him. My brain is reeling—I don’t understand his words. Morrigan? The Midnight Queen?

  Trust the balance, he repeats before fading entirely into the mist.

  NINE

  Cambion

  Mortal Realm

  When I find her, Eilish is standing deep in the forest, looking out over a misty pond. I first feel anger at her stupidity, for wandering so far when none of us are safe. But upon seeing her face, I soften, my anger mellowing as I observe her still form at the water’s edge.

  She appears so alone out here. So small. Not the creature I’ve become so wary of, but a confused girl trying to navigate a world of which she knows very little.

  Regardless, my sympathy is in short supply, and I refuse to reveal the softer side of my feelings toward her. Ever since Variant’s betrayal, trust is not a commodity in which I’m willing to trade.

  “How could you be so stupid?” I scold when she’s within earshot. In my efforts to safeguard my concern for her wellbeing, I may have overcorrected. My words are scathing and cruel. I see the hurt in her eyes as she jumps out of her reverie and turns to face me.

  “I… I’m sorry. There was…” she starts.

  “We’ve just barely escaped with our lives, or did you forget?”

  Her mouth opens and closes, but she can’t manage to form any real words before I’m at her again.

  “Who are you talking to out here anyway?”

  “I was…” She clears her throat. “I wasn’t talking to anyone.”

  I can see the lie in her eyes. Furthermore, I could hear her speaking with someone. No, I didn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but hearing her voice was enough. Clearly, she was talking to someone who has since departed.

  “Sneaking off into the woods doesn’t help your case,” I interrupt her.

  “I didn’t sneak off.”

  “Then how do you explain the fact that you’re here? Beyond the perimeter of the Glyph of Warding meant to keep you safely inside our camp?”

  “I… I had to relieve myself.”

  “And you travel this far away?” I eye her with a narrowed and suspicious gaze. She’s clearly lying to me and she’s terrible at it. She came out here for a reason and I want to know what that reason is. And I also want to know who the fuck she was talking to.

  This girl is trouble. Just like Lamia and her daughters were trouble. Just like all Succubae are trouble.

  “Dragan might be fooled by your act but I’m not,” I say as I glare at her.

  “It’s not an act,” she insists.

  “I’m no fool. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if you were the one who alerted Anona to our location in the first place!”

  Her eyes widen and her mouth drops open. I don’t allow her to speak. Instead, I close the distance between us and glare down at her from narrowed eyes.

  “How else would she have known where we were?” I demand.

  “I don’t know!” she insists.

  “I see what you really are,” I continue. “I see through this fucking mask you’re wearing. All that shit about missing your memories was just a bunch of bullshit, wasn’t it? You’ve been playing a game with us all this time, attempting to seduce us into trusting you. Well, it might have worked on Dragan and Baron but it’s not going to work on me. I’ll be damned if I let a fucking Succubus destroy my carefully laid plans again..."

  “That’s enough!” shouts a booming voice from behind me.

  I turn to see Dragan striding across the forest. My cheeks flush in anger. How dare he reprimand me! I shoot a glare at Eilish, her large eyes are dewy—the moonlight reflecting in their shimmery surface.

  “Spare your fucking words,” I snarl at Dragan. “Until you understand what your little angel was in the middle of doing out here.”

  She looks at me and then Dragan and opens her mouth as if to defend herself, but I continue before she can say anything.

  “I found her out here, alone. She was talking to someone but whoever that person is, they’re long gone.” Then I glare at the big, stupid moron. “I told you we couldn’t trust her, but you don’t fucking listen to me. And now we’re going to pay because she’s obviously a spy!”

  “A spy?” Dragan repeats with a frown.

  “Yes! She has been all along! How else do you explain how Anona found us so easily?”

  Dragan raises an eyebrow, “I said, that’s enough.” His voice is icy. I feel the air move as he speaks; everything changes focus and suddenly the ground vibrates with intensity.

  “You don’t fucking talk to me like that,” I say.

  “I’m sick of your idiocy,” he responds. He takes a step toward me as if to intimidate me but I don’t back down. I’m tired of this prick and his sense of superiority.

  “I’m sick of you fucking up,” I spit back at him. Then I look at the girl. “And she’s just another prime example of you fucking up.”

  “Don’t test me, faerie,” Dragan whispers, his voice harsh.

  Not wanting another physical altercation, I step back. The air returns to normal; I watch his shoulders relax.

  “Revenant is awake,” he tells me. Then, turning to Eilish, he adds, “We need to get back. It isn’t safe out here.”

  At first, I’m annoyed he doesn’t show any interest regarding what I’ve just told him. But then I decide I shouldn’t be surprised. This is just another example of Dragan’s pigheadedness. He’s a fucking fool, and he’s the worst type of fucking fool—a stupid and stubborn one.

  “Let’s go,” Dragan says forcefully.

  Then, something interesting happens. Rather than accompanying Eilish, he turns away from her pointedly. Obviously. His body language toward her is closed and formal, such that mine is. Before, he was a doting fool and now he appears… disinterested? Angry? Unsympathetic? Distrustful?

  Eilish and I fall into step behind him, our journey back to camp silent and pensive. Dragan’s quick strides place him ten or so yards ahead of us. Prior to this moment, I can’t think of one example when he’s allowed me in Eilish’s company without him. This is very odd, indeed.

  I fight the urge to continue to taunt her, to let her know I’m well aware of her duplicity. She hangs her head, but I can see her expression is one of disappointment and sadness.

  But, no matter.

  I’m more interested in Dragan’s reaction to her. I wonder if, perhaps, the bastard gargoyle has come to see things from my point of view after all? I smile at my apparent win, but not for long. For some reason, beating her doesn’t feel good.

  Furthermore, the joy I’d anticipated at catching her solo in the woods conversing with a stranger, is nowhere to be found.

  Yet, I had exposed her! I was right! I’d caught her red-handed, just as I’d assumed I would.

  But where is my satisfaction? It’s missing. All that’s left is... perhaps pity? Disappointment?

  It’s an interesting development, and certainly unexpected.

  I can’t tarry on the topic, however. Instead, I turn back to thoughts of Baron.

  He spent a long time under the influence of the stone, and he wouldn’t be the first strong mind to fall victim to its powers. Memory is dangerous territory; I should have done more to prepare him for all he might uncover. But how can you prepare someone for the level of betrayal Baron suffered? Stabbed by his own brother…

  Because we were brothers, regardless of the differences in our lineage. For all our bickering and our disagreements, we were balanced. Where one of us had weakness, the others had strength.

  Variant tipped the scales; the three of us could never hope to return to what once was. It took me a century to come to terms with that; how long will it take Baron? Even now, I wonder if this attempt of ours to cement our proper place among the kingdom is a wasted endeavor? But what is the alterna
tive? Return to Geldingstock and become Variant’s prisoner again? I believe Variant is just looking for reason to end Dragan and me and now we’ve given him reason. So, maybe that means I wouldn’t even be allowed to return to being his prisoner again?

  No, there’s no going back.

  Much though I believe we are headed for certain doom, there’s no other path on which to travel. And now that the angel has proven herself to be anything but the answer to overthrowing Variant, we haven’t a hope in hell.

  Of course, while it is true that I don’t trust her, I also can’t say with any conviction that I believe her to be working for Variant. I can’t imagine why he would allow her to maintain her wings if such were the case.

  Then the question remains: who is she working for?

  It’s a question I hope to answer soon.

  For now, I must come up with a plan. Clearly, I’m the only one who can.

  Dragan is a fool and Baron is unreliable at best. In fact, I’m not even certain he’ll remain with us after I free him from the influence of the stone. He seemed intent on leaving as soon as his memories were returned to him. Not that I blame him necessarily. Were I in his position, I should most likely make the same decision. Of all of us, Baron is blessed in his anonymity.

  I envy him that.

  As to my plan moving forward… I do have one. It’s still in the process of taking shape in my mind but the more I think on it, the more reasonable it becomes. First things first, I need to know what Baron’s plans are once I disengage him from the stone. Then I need to decide what to do with Eilish.

  It’s my preference that we leave her somewhere and do so soon. She can no longer assist us with our cause and she’s untrustworthy, at best. Therefore she must go. After that, we must begin to assemble an army. We have no chance of going up against Variant and his forces if we have no forces of our own. And that is the sticking point on which I continue to beat my head against the proverbial wall…

  I grow tired of the silence and Dragan is too far ahead for me to taunt him. I turn to Eilish. “So,” I say, “who were you talking to?” My voice is bordering on friendly.

  “Maybe no one,” she confesses with a shrug and I’m momentarily surprised to hear her finally confess the truth.