Air moved gently past Jaiden’s face, caressing it with warmth and lifting him gently from the depths of sleep. Upon opening his eyes, they confirmed what his body already knew – he was high upon a world of clouds, resting among the stars. Soft, green moonlight, tinged blue by Hurn, the smaller moon that ceaselessly chased Criesha across the night sky, bathed the mist supporting him.
Within a few paces, a raised bed rested on a pillow of billowing clouds. A focused beam of moonlight shown upon the center of midnight blue sheets – an invitation to Jaiden’s attention. He sat on the edge of the bed and ran his hand through the beam, letting its light dance across his fingers. Though they appeared to pass through air, his sense of touch informed him he was caressing the soft skin of a woman.
Amazed, he withdrew his hand and examined it, but it appeared unchanged. Jaiden closed his eyes and ran his hand through the beam once more. This time, he clearly felt his fingers running along a surface like silk, with something more solid underneath. Trailing upward, he would have sworn he traced the swell of a woman’s hip, and was about to open his eyes again when he felt fingers running through the waves of his hair, convincing him to keep them shut.
“I have been waiting for you to reach this moment.” Criesha’s voice melted over him like butter on a hot roll.
Jaiden raised his left hand opposite his right, grasping a slim waist that twitched at his touch. He could not stand it any longer and opened his eyes. There, straddling his waist and grasping his hair with both hands was his Goddess, her luminescent skin showing through the diaphanous gown that only played at covering her.
Contrary to her usual appearance, her sable locks were set free. They meandered across thin shoulders and down between her shoulder blades. Criesha leaned lower and Jaiden lifted his chin, anticipating another kiss like the one that had miraculously healed him. Before their lips met, however, she gripped his head tighter and held him still, only an inch away from her alluring mouth, where bliss awaited.
“I am going to show you the life that awaits my faithful Champion.” She made sure his eyes met hers, to leave no chance of misunderstanding. “It remains up to you to choose this existence for yourself, but you cannot go back and forth – should you forsake me, my favor will be lost to you forever.”
Jaiden nodded, ready to give in, ready to devote every remaining breath he would ever take, if she would only kiss him. Criesha’s hold relented and her mouth collapsed onto his. They kissed deeply and his hands roamed up her back, drawing her body closer. Once he tasted her lips, her tongue, he wanted more. He wanted to explore her entire being with his mouth, and started with her neck.
It seemed so fragile, so vulnerable, making it all the more lovely. He pressed his tongue against the soft skin just above where her neck curved into her shoulder, and nibbled lightly with his teeth. She quivered at the touch, and Jaiden wondered pridefully if another man existed who could claim to have made a goddess moan.
His hands grasped the sleeves of her gown, and as he peeled them down her arms, their clothes suddenly disappeared. With no more impediments, his hands moved forward and cupped her breasts – they were full, round, and hung slightly from her lithe frame. His mouth lowered to join his hands, and as he squeezed her soft mounds, his lips closed around one nipple, then the other.
As with her neck, he sucked first and then gently used his teeth, pulling lightly on their tips. Her hands continued to hold his face, and her hips were rotating, moving her wet sex back and forth over his hardness, coating it with her juices. Criesha reached behind her with one hand and guided Jaiden inside her. She sank down and took him almost completely into her slippery warmth.
Jaiden’s eyes opened wider and he released her nipple to groan. A surge like a hundred orgasms fired through him, making every inch of his body pulse with pleasurable electricity. The feeling was worlds beyond anything he had ever experienced with another woman.
She pushed his muscular chest back until he was lying flat on the bed, and slid her hands lower, gripping either side of his rippling abdomen. She applied just enough pressure to lift her hips, and began riding him up and down. He grabbed hold of her rounded buttocks and assisted in moving her faster, nearly releasing and then swallowing him, over and over.
Criesha’s face and sex tightened simultaneously while her wetness increased, and she let out a prolonged moan. When he looked down, he saw his shaft coated in luminescent liquid. His own pressure built rapidly, and when she clenched him once more, he climaxed deep inside her. It felt like his spirit left his body with his seed, joining with the goddess in a state of pure bliss, before sinking back and reclaiming his body once more.
When he was finally spent, she collapsed forward onto his chest and listened to his racing heartbeat until it calmed.
“If you continue to be my Champion – to do my bidding on your world, to devote yourself to me and forsake all others – you will be rewarded beyond what your mortal realm can provide. This was only a taste, to show you a glimpse of what might be yours. Serve me well, and you will manifest new power whenever my favored moon is full in the sky.”
Jaiden tucked his chin to kiss the top of her head as he placed an arm around her. “Exactly what power do I have now? Obviously you healed my body, and I am forever grateful, but what about the glowing sword?”
“As long as you remain a pure vessel serving my will, any weapon you wield shall be imbued with sacred moonlight. No armor made by man will resist such a blade.”
Jaiden rested his head back. The possibilities swam through his mind. With Criesha as his patroness, he could become the greatest warrior alive. The thought was intoxicating. He had visions of leading his own army, battling demons at the foot of Mount Celestia – only to wake and find he had been dreaming.
Still in the commandeered cell in Blackthorn, it was impossible to tell what time it was with the door shut. He reached down and felt his lap – it was wet. Sitting up, he crept to the door and cracked it open. Faint sunlight filtered into the hallway. Dawn had arrived, and they would be leaving soon, assuming Palomar made progress teaching the other Dampers during the night. Jaiden figured he had just enough time to change pants before anyone noticed.
When he emerged into the courtyard to greet the others and ready the horses, nearly a dozen Aasimar were gathered, carrying on a silent conversation with Sir Golddrake, by the looks of it.
Palomar saw Jaiden as he walked closer, and included him into his telepathic discussion. “You look infinitely more comfortable moving without that crutch. Sir Golddrake was telling us your expected route, and where we should be able to meet up with the Order once serving our purpose here. Do you feel fit for your long ride?”
“Aye. I’ve so missed taking regular strides, I wager I could march all the way back to Halidor if need be.”
“Then I wish you all good speed until we meet again.”
Palomar, Jaiden, and Sir Golddrake bowed their heads in farewell. Their gesture was lost on the other Aasimar, who stood waiting for a verbal cue the conversation had ended, and seemed confused when the humans departed without one.
Jaiden found Saffron in the stables with her sister, talking to Baron Rogan as they saddled their horses for the ride out. “Fair morning,” he said to the group, not minding his interruption.
“Fair morning to you,” Saffron answered, stepping past Rogan to approach Jaiden. “I have not seen much of you since the caves – it is wonderful you are walking again.”
Jaiden tucked his lower lip and nodded at Saffron as he swung his saddle atop Inferno. His horse shifted in his stall under the additional load.
“And how is your horse recovering?” She cupped a hand over her throat and shifted her weight so her hip flared out.
“I was worried the first night we may have to put him down, but Palomar calmed him and it has been a boon. Luckily, the arrow was not too deep, and he seems to be healing. Aren’t you, Inferno?” He patted the horse’s rump, opposite where it had been penetrated. The hor
se whinnied and nodded his head, coaxing a laugh from Saffron.
“It looks as if he is,” she said. “By the way, have you met my sister yet?” Saffron turned and grabbed her sibling by the hand, breaking her away from a conversation with Rogan to introduce her. “Jaiden Luminere, this is my younger sister, Dhania min-Furasi. I suppose you two are about the same age.”
Jaiden dusted his hands off and extended one to Dhania, who glanced at Saffron before offering hers back to him. He clasped it lightly, and lowered his head to kiss the back of her hand. “I am honored to meet you, Dhania, and pleased you have been brought out of bondage.”
“Pleased to meet you as well, Master Luminere.”
Jaiden could tell she was uneasy with the formal custom, and sought to make her comfortable. “No need to be proper with me… I am no Baron, after all,” he smiled, tilting his head at Rogan.
Dhania smiled as well and exhaled through her nose, before retracting her hand.
“I, for one, cannot wait until we’ve left Chelpa far behind,” Jaiden remarked, turning to finish preparing his steed.
Sir Golddrake was already mounted and trotted to the edge of the stables before calling to the lot of them. “Let’s finish up in there. The ships have departed and the prisoners released – it is time for us to make for Selamus.”
“Yes, Sir,” Jaiden was the first to call out. Shortly after, they led their horses into formation in front of the gates. Sir Golddrake and Sir Kilborn led the way, and Jaiden felt compelled to stay near the front of the column, close by. Rogan kept to the rear and Dhania pleaded to stay back as well, so Saffron capitulated. Palomar lowered the drawbridge, and to his final salute, the remaining cavalry exited the prison fortress.
The immediate descent from the cliff on which Blackthorn was built was a barren slope of sharp, jutting rock, with only one safe path down. When the ground leveled off it was immediately engulfed by Skulwood Jungle, which persisted for several leagues northward before giving way to more tamed, cultivated lands.
The trail out of Blackthorn was the only one maintained through this part of the jungle, making it unlikely for anyone to be travelling along it not on official prison business. Jaiden found the encroaching flora and thick canopy of the rainforest slightly sinister, as little sunlight penetrated to illuminate their path. The Order was forced to ride in a column two-abreast, and even so, the way became crowded at spots.
Unlike their journey through Chelpa before the assault, Sir Golddrake insisted they proudly display their white tabards on the ride back. He reasoned they were moving too quickly for any force strong enough to threaten them to assemble and intercept, even if they were reported. The sight of mounted knights not fighting for the King-priest might dismay their enemies, and establish doubt in those who assumed Ebon Khorel’s grip on the country was unassailable.
Jaiden supported this decree and took it further by asking to bear the Order’s banner as they rode, letting their foes know exactly who they were up against. They rode due north, as much as the terrain would allow them, straight for Halidor Keep. The quickest route to reach Selamus from there was along the Dawn Way, though unspoken trepidation permeated the riders as to what they might encounter on such a path. The latest information received suggested the King-priest had already won the lands as far north as Synirpa, and the castle at Windhollow Rock. Yet their ride through the enemy’s own country provided nothing in the way of resistance.
While trudging through a muddy hamlet the day after a rain, they stopped to draw water from its well. Sir Golddrake asked several of the villagers for permission, but no one claimed to be in charge. With no objections, they filled their waterskins as quickly as they could.
Jaiden scanned the dreary collection of huts and sagging fences – even the livestock appeared depressed. He was still holding the banner, propped up by a loop and knot at the base of his saddle, when a boy of seven or eight summers approached and tapped him on the boot.
“Are you here to fix papa?” he asked.
Jaiden looked down, and leaned closer to the soft-spoken boy. “What is wrong with your papa?”
“The bad men whipped him, and now he cannot work. They will whip him again if he cannot work.”
“Well, we are here to stop the bad men from coming. When we are through with them, the bad men will not lay a hand on your papa again.”
The boy smiled at Jaiden and ran off toward a dilapidated dwelling. Sir Golddrake, who overheard the exchange, nudged his horse closer once the boy disappeared into his home.
“We are here to bring hope, Jaiden, not to make promises we may not be able to keep. Be aware of the difference.” With that, he led his horse over to the well to check on the progress of the refilling process. Jaiden remained silent, but watched his Master from behind, questioning him for perhaps the first time. He had every intention of fulfilling his promise, and it had not occurred to him to doubt they would be successful.
Chapter 21
Touch of the Moon
T he Order rode for four full days, making good time, before finally leaving the boundaries of Chelpa behind. Just across the border, Sir Golddrake decided to spend the evening within the ruins of the abandoned fortress where he first encountered Jaiden. Using the crumbled walls as shelter, the camp split around half-a-dozen scattered fires. The soldiers were more at ease than previous nights during their ride, as if safer on home turf – no matter that the place they were bedding down had been destroyed by Ebon Khorel only half a season ago.
“The ghosts of Halidor shall haunt this place for many years, I fear. So many died.” Saffron slid her hand along one of the broken stone walls of the keep, just at the edge of the nearest campfire’s halo.
“And I would have been one of them, if not for you.” Jaiden reached to put another log on the fire, and then leaned back against the remnants of a former battlement. The night was clear, and the stars lit the canopy of the sky like a thousand candles. With so many visible, each one could have burned in remembrance of a soul taken by the King-priest.
“You give me too much credit, Jaiden. You would not have survived unless your own desire to live was strong.” Saffron remained at the boundary of the fire’s glow, where shadows danced heavily upon her as the flame licked back and forth across its pile of fuel.
“I think we have all survived much since winter,” added Dhania. Jaiden could not remember hearing her say more than a few words during their journey, and only when he spoke to her first.
“Here-here!” Rogan raised his flask of wine and folded his feet in front of the fire. “A toast to our collective will to survive.”
Jaiden raised his flagon, chiming in with Rogan and Dhania as they repeated, “to our wills!” He stared straight over the fire into Saffron’s eyes as he spoke, and she, without a drink, stared back at him. He would have given a handful of silver to know the thoughts dancing behind her eyes.
“So, Jaiden,” Rogan’s speech was tainted by the slightest slurring, “you seem to have Sir Golddrake’s ear. What’s the head man got planned for us? Are we really going to ride straight up the Dawn Way to Selamus? Last I heard, Ebon Khorel’s northern army was in charge at least as far as the next castle. I mean, look at this place – it’s not as if the locals have returned to rebuild. We might want to take a hint from that.”
Jaiden was unsure what spurred Rogan’s questioning, or if he meant there to be a challenge behind it, but he seemed to be indulging in more wine than usual. Jaiden proceeded with caution. “Truth is, Baron, the last intelligence we got on the King-priest’s whereabouts was almost two moon-cycles ago. He could be almost anywhere by now. I trust Sir Golddrake. He means to get an audience with the Prince, and reunite with the rest of his men as speedily as possible. If we took a less direct route, we’d only be guessing on how to avoid the Chelpians anyway.”
Saffron stepped out of the shadows and sat next to her sister. The orange petals of the exotic jungle flower she had pinned in her hair matched the blazing heart of the ca
mpfire almost perfectly. “I think I know Amurel better than most, though we have not been acquainted overlong.” Was she attempting to keep things peaceful? “Having taken so many casualties, he will look to replenish the Order’s numbers before engaging the enemy openly again. I believe he intends to petition the Prince in Selamus for more men.”
“Better him than me,” quipped Jaiden. “The politics of court would drive me insane. Give me a sword over a crown any day.”
“I do not think anyone wants to see you in a crown.” Rogan laughed, as if his statement was hilariously funny. Jaiden assumed it was the alcohol, until Dhania joined in the laughter. Perhaps he simply missed the joke.
Saffron looked at the two of them laughing and smiled, shaking her head at their lack of restraint. She turned back to Jaiden, and from across the fire he saw her smile break into a tooth-baring grin when their eyes met again. Finally, she laughed as well, and he could not help joining her, the contagious release of weeks of mounting stress overtaking him.
“What is so funny over there?” asked a soldier from a nearby campfire. They continued laughing for another minute, though more subdued, preferring to keep amusement amongst themselves. Not long after, everyone migrated to their bedrolls, thankful for even the imperfect shelter of the dilapidated keep to welcome them home.
In the morning, they packed and started north again along the road. The conversation was light, and despite the drinking of the previous night, the column seemed alert, watching for signs the army of the King-priest might lie ahead.
As usual, Jaiden rode immediately behind Sir Golddrake, bearing the standard of the Rising Moon. Unimpeded, it would still take them nearly a week to reach the province of Dawn’s Edge. Jaiden left the shining capital of Selamus years ago, having seen plenty of its bustling streets while growing up. He first learned to fend for himself among its hills, before his father decided he was old enough to tag along to the mercenary camps.
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