Old 11-14-2017, 05:57 PM   #1
The_gladiator
Avatar of Fantasy
 
The_gladiator's Avatar
 
The_gladiator is offline
Join Date: Mar 2007
Location: Ohio
Posts: 19,407
The Space Between

The space between
By Glad and Uggg

The space between was the proverbial no man’s land that existed outside the control of both the elves and the humans. Long ago it was land that had been fought over, both peoples claiming it at one time or another. That was before the dark time and the orcs, goblins, Ogres and trolls had united. Drawn together under one banner by the machinations of the Drow from the underworld, and a few of the ancient chromatic dragons, those wyrmes of pure evil. Such times had drawn humankind and elvenkin together, forces that had driven the host from the space between.

Now there was an uneasy truce between both the elves and humans, and they kept the space between as neutral territory. In practice this meant that those who weren’t accepted by society for one reason or another flocked to, or were forced to inhabit these lands. It was a haven for half elves, loners and at least one exile. This was the place of the dark elves. Not dark elves as in drow, but the elves that did things that polite elven society saw as unforgiveable, and deemed worthy of exile. Most were exiled for dabbling in dark magic, murdering others, or for having sexual appetites that the community could not tolerate. This latter was pretty rare, because as far as peoples went, the elves were fairly sexually liberal.

According to elven law, Valenthel. Vale, or Val, to friends, was exiled for the first of these reasons. He was suspected of the second, but no one had been able to make the murder charge stick. Dark magic was not something that Val would deny, though. It was his assertion that the council of elders failed to consider context, refused to hear his reasons. At the time, Val believed the end justified the means. The council disagreed and He was exiled.

His magic had helped coax the trees into a small home up in the branches. Valenthel sat cross-legged in the grass hands steadily carving the wand that would accept his magic. This piece of wood spoke to him and he knew that this wand would store spells of lightning. Its zigzag shape was perfect. Not always did the magic item identify what sort of magic it held merely by its shape, some were much more subtle and it would take a skilled practitioner to identify the nature of the magic within. However this one would show clearly what magic it stored.

Such magic items were prized by the militaries of both human and elven peoples. Such a wand could allow a non-magic user with the command word to cast magical spells. Forging the items was one way that Valenthel made his living. He sold them in exchange for supplies nature could not provide him to the elven emissary that came 4 times a year. He sold much more freely to the humans, some of which were even brave enough to come visit him. No elf save the emissary would come visit, and even that ambassador of sorts would have as little contact with him as possible. For someone whose people were highly social, this was torture. They might believe exile was more humane than execution, but Valenthel would strongly disagree.

So infrequent were his visitors that he was surprised when his keen hearing picked up the sound of soft boots on the trail. The steps were if he guessed correctly those of a human. They were too noisy to be any self-respecting elf. They were light though, not the heavy clomps of his typical male visitor. Surely it could not be a female, or child? He had had children come to visit him a time or two over the years he’d been there, the brave ones investigating the rumors of a monster living in the trees. He had avoided them in those cases, not wanting the humans or half elves that lived in the space between to start a witch hunt. Though outside the rule of law of both human and elven land, that did not mean that there weren’t rules of the wilderness, jungle justice, if you will.

The slender elf came smoothly to his feet. His black robes matching the hair that trailed down his back. He had once worn the white robes favored by the “good” mages of the elves, and he had also once worn the green robes of the elven military. They had given him the black robes upon exiling him. He could have worn any color he wanted now that he was on his own, but now he wore them as a statement, the proverbial middle finger to a society that he saw as turning their back on him. Piercing green eyes swept his surroundings, visually looking for a sign that might confirm what his ears told him, he would soon have a visitor. The wand disappeared into a fold of the robe, and even the long fingered hands disappeared, lithe grace hidden behind folds of dark material. The paleness of his skin contrasted with the dark of his hair and the robes he wore. He stood like that, just waiting, filled with the confidence that he could handle whatever came his way. Only time would tell if he was right, though he could not in that moment know how his life was about to change.
__________________
The greatest harm can come from the best of intentions

Thanks Thyri for the Av

My thread
Gladiator's Guest Book
feel free to stop by and say hello

My SRP Writers Profile

Current Threads
Night and Shadows --(With Dark Empress)

TK Anonymous member #24
my kink score is 633
50.6% pure.
  Reply With Quote

Old 11-14-2017, 08:30 PM   #2
Uggg
Literotica Guru
 
Uggg's Avatar
 
Uggg is offline
Join Date: Oct 2017
Posts: 869
For a young human woman to willingly enter the space between was either desperation, madness or both. Miriam had desperation in spades and she could only hope that she didn’t have the other. Certainly those that would have cast her out thought she did. But then she could forgive them for that. They were people that she’d known her whole life and she could see their fear, it matched her own. She couldn’t forgive them for the branding though. No, that was unforgivable... but so was what she’d done afterwards.

The problem had manifested for humanity when the emergence of the dark races forced a closer arrangement with Elves. Magic did not come naturally to humans but proximity to Elves made for certain... anomalies. The problem began for Miriam when her status as an anomaly became apparent on her wedding night. She was a pretty young woman, a little on the short side but possessed of pleasant curves large breasts, long wavy brown hair and a flirtatious cheerful nature. Men loved her.

The rural community where she grew up had little on offer, apart from farming to feed the ever growing armies, so many of the young left to find more interesting lives in the cities. Miriam had other plans though. She had her eyes on James Miller from her early teens all the way through to when she was finally old enough to marry at nineteen. James was in line to inherit his family farm and would not be leaving any time soon and so neither would Miriam be. Except that isn’t how things turned out. Farming folk are simple people. As long as things don’t change and the seasons are generous they are happy people. Not tolerant though. Not tolerant of something different hiding in their midst.

Miriam was something different. From a very young age she’d been different. She possessed a magical soul. Its name was Mirma and manifested as an Imp. Miriam could see through Mirma’s eyes and seldom found herself in two minds about things but it did happen. That could result in awful headaches. Miriam’s soul was obviously a secret. It was a sign that she was tainted by Elvin magic and while such things might be tolerated in the cities... well...

“We’re decent folks round here!”

Her wedding day had been perfect, everything a girl could dream of. James had been so handsome and he couldn’t disguise the lustful sparkle in his eyes as she swayed her way through the crowd to take his side in front of the magistrate. Her wedding night had been something she’d imagined a thousand times growing up, oh to be with a man, to be with James. Her fantasies were never without a kind of nervous anticipation though. She would have no secrets from her man. After the ceremony and before the consummation (never thought of without a little shudder of excitement) she would reveal her soul. The thought made her feel both vulnerable and excited.

Mirma watched the ceremony from the roof of the baker’s shops. She watched as James carried Miriam across the threshold. Miriam was on cloud nine and her soul was rejoicing with her. It was time for the big reveal now. It was an idea that her mind had come up with and Mirma had some doubts about but minds could be so stubborn.

If it weren’t for the overwhelming fear and horror she would have felt a little vindication as she resumed her perch on the bakers roof afterward, just in time to see James drag Miriam by her hair, the same hair they had spent so much time that morning weaving flowers into, kicking and screaming out into the light of the wedding party still going on in the plaza.

James was furious and disgusted. That hurt much worse than the hair, or the ruined dress. The same dress Miriam’s mother and her mother before her had been married in now coated in the mud of his boots, of her disgrace.

“SHOW THEM WHAT YOU SHOWED ME!”

Tears and begging but to no avail. His beautiful face held no mercy. Broken Miriam revealed her soul, her secret and they judged her harshly.
It was James that branded her face. That hurt so much that her mind fled. She had no memory of what happened after that but her soul did. It told her. It made them pay, Miriam knew it was true, she’d woken in the aftermath naked and covered in their gore. Her face was healed but scarred terribly, one whole rosy check was now a mess and her once beautiful smile was twisted. Now this would be her life... was her life.

Branded. Hunted. Searching.

She was searching for someone that could teach her how to protect herself and how to control her soul or to take it from her. There was only one place answers like that could be found, this place, the space between. With her body now hidden under a long ragged cloak, her hair cropped as short as she could manage with one of her many knives and her face hidden under the bandanna she always wore, she sat in her cave and her soul flew out searching.

Miriam had learnt some hard lessons in the six months she’d been roaming the space between. Lessons about predators and pray. Lessons about smiles you can’t trust and frowns that mean everything. She was not innocent, hell she had not been innocent since the night she fled the wreckage of her old life, that was blood on her soul, on Mirma's tiny hands but now she had a lot more blood on her own hands. That had been necessary to survive. She had developed strong survival instincts... and a guarded heart.

After hours of sitting silent and still she stirred. The movement reminded her empty stomach that it existed but there was no time to go hunting. Her soul returned at pace. Mirma had found someone. Miriam had a lot of walking to do. Then there would be negotiating, she was no longer naive enough to think she could find a teacher who wouldn’t demand a price.

__________________
My bio(As the forum profiles seem to be broken atm please feel free to find out about me here)
SRP:
My SRP profile
The space between (With The_gladiator)
Teachers Special project (With latenightlover)
Old Friends (With BernadetteRochelle)
My stories:
Reflections on a painful past Ch.01 Ch.02 Ch. 03 (final)
PMs welcomed.
Group Uggg A place for my friends to visit me (Oh and there's poems)

Last edited by Uggg : 11-15-2017 at 03:32 PM. Reason: n
  Reply With Quote

Old 11-27-2017, 07:34 PM   #3
The_gladiator
Avatar of Fantasy
 
The_gladiator's Avatar
 
The_gladiator is offline
Join Date: Mar 2007
Location: Ohio
Posts: 19,407
Valenthel spent most of his time lost in the memories, of times gone by. Time had taken seemingly everything from this once truly proud elven wizard. Now, it left the bitter remnants of pride. Gone even was his original name. Adapted. He had not gone by Valen, the name he had been known by for so many centuries since he’d lost her, his Elia. He had added the suffix to his name, changing it, bastardizing his identity. The way he had people address him was a reflection of how he saw himself. He had not become the evil that his people claimed he had, however he had dipped his toes in the proverbial dark waters, and found they little solace in their depths.

As he listened to the footsteps approach, he reflected on the last time a woman had visited him. Once upon a time the elven ambassador had been a female, volunteered her body to slake his lust during one of the fertility festivals. It had been his only feminine touch in more than 50 years. The woman had barely spoken to him. She had simply disrobed and offered herself to him.

He had vowed that if he ever got the opportunity again that he would be gentler, would not act so much the animal. He had almost been as a human rutting like a stag. Elves tended to be much more skilled and less…primal, but it had been so long. He was sure however that his treatment of her was why she’d never returned.

All these thoughts and more flitted through his mind as he heard the approach of the footsteps. Soon a small figure in a ragged cloak passed out of the trees and into the small clearing that Valenthel called home. The figure sure was slight enough to be female, but very little showed from beneath the hood to give away the person’s identity.

Valenthel stepped away from the tree, seeming to melt from its shadow. He had once been a woodsman, and not all of that skill had been lost to him over the years. He lifted his right hand, pale skin appearing from among the folds of black to lower the hood revealing himself to her. His green eyes scrutinized the form as it approached. “May I help you?” he asked simply. His words were accented but he clearly spoke the common tongue fluently.

His face showed very little of his thoughts, purposefully blank. It was not a welcoming expression, but nor was it hostile either. If anything the look he directed into the hood was a bit curious. This was certainly out of the ordinary. His hands had slid back out of sight, and it did not take a genius to know he was readying some sort of weapon, or magic, just encase. One could never be too careful in The Space Between.
__________________
The greatest harm can come from the best of intentions

Thanks Thyri for the Av

My thread
Gladiator's Guest Book
feel free to stop by and say hello

My SRP Writers Profile

Current Threads
Night and Shadows --(With Dark Empress)

TK Anonymous member #24
my kink score is 633
50.6% pure.
  Reply With Quote

Old 11-28-2017, 04:19 PM   #4
Uggg
Literotica Guru
 
Uggg's Avatar
 
Uggg is offline
Join Date: Oct 2017
Posts: 869
Miriam was exhausted by the time she found the trail Mirma’s eyes had shown her. A bird’s eye view was a magnificent thing for scouting out danger but it wasn’t much good at telling you if a bushy thicket happened to be full of thorny brambles or not.

Still they’d found plenty of reasons to be grateful for their unique abilities over the last six months. The space between was full of roaming bands of marauders, bandits, slavers, cannibals or even just armed trader convoys. Miriam had been horrified the first time she’d witnessed through Mirma’s vision just how little difference there was between the traders and the bandits when they thought there was no one there to see.

They were near their destination now and not a moment too soon. Miriam had not eaten in longer than she could account for clearly and that combined with the physical exertion of the hike and the mental stress of dealing with Mirma’s terror had her near to breaking point. Now they were just minutes from their goal it was the third of those problems that had come to the fore.

Mirma had been very frightened by what she’d seen up ahead. She’d been scouting for powerful beings, magic wielders. Over the last six months their search had turned up several disappointing leads but none were what they required. Oh there were plenty of magical beings here alright. Elves that had been banished were common enough, almost all of whom had some degree of power or other.

There were also others like Miriam, Humans who had been tainted by Elvin magic and had some ability whether it be blessing or curse that had seen them flee civilization for this harsh world. None could give Miriam what she needed though.

She needed control. She needed to know that what had happened could never happen again. There was blood on her hands. Some they found might have been able to help but none were willing. Those that pretended they were wanted something in return, usually something very unsavoury. Others never even gave her the chance to explain, they just attacked. There was more blood on her hands than there had been before. None of those others had gotten the reaction from Mirma that this one had though. The moment the Imp saw him she turned and fled. It was so sudden Miriam hadn’t even had a chance to register what Mirma had seen.

Now as they made their final cautious approach Mirma’s terror was spilling over and it was all Miriam could do to keep walking. Up ahead was now revealed the most amazing building either of them had ever seen. It appeared to be a house built up in amongst the branches of a truly massive tree yet the closer they got the harder it got to differentiate between the house and the branches. What wondrous magic was this?

The occupant had been nowhere to be seen but as Miriam crept forward as silently as she could, Mirma clinging fearfully to the back of her cape he appeared. Powerful magic indeed! He seemed to flow from the very shadows! He was without a doubt the most intimidating individual Miriam had ever seen. Not so much through her own eyes, to her he appeared tall and quite handsome but maybe a little severe. He looked a little too perfect for the space between, how did he keep his clothes and hair in such immaculate condition? No it was through Mirma’s eyes that he was truly frightening. He was wreathed in power and Mirma took just one peak before ducking back down in fear.

Inside her dark hood and hidden behind her ever present bandana Miriam’s own scarred face mirrored her souls emotion. Fear had won out. Behind her she could hear the strange clicking as Mirma’s skin thickened into scaled armour. He spoke and though his words were calm his actions were threatening, what was he reaching for?

“May I help you?”

Miriam could feel her control slipping.

No...

This was just like last time.

No...

Mirma’s fear was turning to anger. They were never truly separate beings. Miriam was snarling behind her bandana, hissing and reaching for her knives.

No... Not like last time!

Blood everywhere, fear in their eyes, children screaming...

Panic!

“NO!”

I don’t remember that.
Teeth gritted.

“I... DON”T... REMEMBER... THAT!”

Mirma snarled her rage and Miriam attacked...

Whatever he hit her with, it must have been potent, the pain was excruciating and it was only seconds before blackness took everything else away except for her last thoughts as she felt fingers tugging at her bandana.

No... Please don’t look at my face...

__________________
My bio(As the forum profiles seem to be broken atm please feel free to find out about me here)
SRP:
My SRP profile
The space between (With The_gladiator)
Teachers Special project (With latenightlover)
Old Friends (With BernadetteRochelle)
My stories:
Reflections on a painful past Ch.01 Ch.02 Ch. 03 (final)
PMs welcomed.
Group Uggg A place for my friends to visit me (Oh and there's poems)
  Reply With Quote

Old 01-18-2018, 12:26 AM   #5
The_gladiator
Avatar of Fantasy
 
The_gladiator's Avatar
 
The_gladiator is offline
Join Date: Mar 2007
Location: Ohio
Posts: 19,407
Vale had never really been what he would consider a violent person. Of course there were many who had branded him such. Those that did not understand the practicality of war. This was no war time, but reflexes honed on such a stage did not fade easily.

When the figure, he had guessed her to be a woman lurched forward almost as if to attack him, he reacted quickly. He let his magic flow and she stopped, all of the pain receptors in her body firing at one time. He knew from experience it felt like being hit by lightning. He did not want to hurt her, but nor was he going to let who ever this was harm him. Having that dual type nature, even right after striking her with such a powerful spell he was kneeling beside her supine body, fingers going to her neck to be sure that her heart beat and he had not caused lasting damage.

He was a bit startled to hear a light voice that had gone scratchy with disuse urging him to not look at her face. Such a strange request got his curiosity up and he reached for the bandana. After a long look he concluded that was not something he could fix at this time and did not want to get involved with if he did not need to.

He bent and lifted the form into his arms and carried her to his guest bed, not that he got many guests, even so, he had one just encase and it seemed like now he might be glad he had it, she would certainly be there for at least a short time.

Eventually she would wake, until then, he would seek the peace of meditation and tea.
__________________
The greatest harm can come from the best of intentions

Thanks Thyri for the Av

My thread
Gladiator's Guest Book
feel free to stop by and say hello

My SRP Writers Profile

Current Threads
Night and Shadows --(With Dark Empress)

TK Anonymous member #24
my kink score is 633
50.6% pure.
  Reply With Quote

Old 01-18-2018, 04:39 AM   #6
Uggg
Literotica Guru
 
Uggg's Avatar
 
Uggg is offline
Join Date: Oct 2017
Posts: 869
Mirma was shocked at how quickly Miriam went down, the pain they were both experiencing was excruciating and distracted she was thrown clear of Miriam’s back and off into the bushes. Almost as quickly as it had begun the pain was gone but in its place Mirma could feel something much more frightening, a terrible spike in Miriam’s fear and simultaneously Mirma’s sense of the girl’s thoughts was fading. Desperate with anxiety Mirma scuttled to the edge of the bushes ready to leap at the terrifying elf creature that had rendered Miriam unconscious with such a devastating attack.

The moment she laid eyes on him though she knew she couldn’t do a thing. He was just so ominously powerful. Mirma cowered in the bushes as she watched him crouching over Miriam’s supine form. She wanted with all her will to charge out and defend Miriam but she could barely manage a whimper. The tall elf had lifted Miriam’s bandanna and was looking at her face. Mirma shook with impotent rage at this savage violation. In reaction to her emotion, her claws were growing and hardening; yet again she tried and failed to find the will to attack.

Now though something surprising happened, almost gently the power wreathed mage lowered the bandana back into place allowing the girl her dignity, hiding her scarred face. He lifted her with ease but again it was clear he was being gentle and without a backwards glance carried her off towards the base of the tree that contained the amazing house. Mirma could not follow directly or she’d give herself away, so moving as stealthily as she could and changing her body colour to green as she moved, she circled around the clearing till she could approach the base of the tree unseen... only she couldn’t.

There was some obstruction, some invisible wall or forbidding, Mirma could get no closer than ten paces to the base of the tree before she was turned aside. Hissing her rage she dashed back for the cover of the low bushes. Already she knew what she would do. As she scuttled her arms were lengthening as were her already clawed little fingers. No sooner had she reached the surrounding trees and she was climbing. Easily swinging from branch to branch and finding purchase with her clawed hands in the thick bark of the trees.

At about 60 feet above the forest floor the tree branches of the canopy were interlinked and she would easily be able to get into the upper branches of the tree containing the house... only she couldn’t, again she found herself turned aside. The very same barrier that blocked her below impeded her here as well. Miriam was in danger and with her unconscious Mirma had a single minded purpose which she would follow to the exclusion of all else. Her frustration was boiling up and stealth was thrown to the wind now. Howling her rage and defiance of the fear she still felt and yet again being thwarted Mirma turned to the air.

From her back leathery iridescent wings sprouted and as quickly as they appeared the imp was air born and beating hard for altitude. From a thousand feet she flipped gracefully in the air and tucked her wings. She screamed as she dived. Howling her will ahead of her, five hundred feet, terminal velocity, four hundred feet, three hundred, two, one...She felt the barrier buckle at her impact, buckle but not break, it gave and then she was turned aside, hurtling at speed through the whipping tree branches, still screaming but not in anger now.

Mirma left the thinking up to Miriam for the most part, feeling was more her thing. Right now she was feeling rage, rage and frustration and as she turned skyward again for what would be the second of many attempts the whole damn forest was hearing it! The house remained impenetrable.

.................

Miriam awoke with a start, only she knew straight away she hadn’t. This was clearly a dream; she was in a bed in a real room. Oh gods of thunder and rain it felt so real, a real bed! What a wonderful dream! Normally her dreams were nightmares, reliving the horrible moment the villagers branded her face or the terrible scene after she came to and they were all dead. This was wonderful this dream! Happily she rolled over to snuggle up to the pillow... and felt the scarred flesh on her bare cheek meet soft linen... This was no dream. Her eyes flew open and she was instantly tense and aware, her hand creeping for her knife belt... that wasn’t there!

She sat bolt upright and took in her surroundings. Her anxiety subsided, beside the bed in a neatly folded bundle was her cloak and her belt and bandanna were on top of it. The knives were not in their sheaths but as her memory returned she realized that was to be expected. She had been captured. she felt strange, detached, she knew she was afraid and angry but she wasn't 'feeling' afraid and angry. she shook her head but it felt like it was full of cotton wool.

Distantly she could feel Mirma but something was odd, while she could tell that Mirma was nearby and that she was unhurt but angry, she couldn’t communicate at all with her soul. Mirma was cut off by some kind of barrier, it was like being on either side of a sound proof locked window. Then she understood her emotions were on the other side of that barrier as well, trapped with Mirma. They could see each other but not touch. Mirriam couldn’t even see what Mirma could see. It was a strange new feeling looking through just one set of eyes. She needed to get back to her soul. Quietly she slipped out of bed and tied her bandana back about her face, priorities after all. She was dizzy with hunger, but she managed to get her belt and cloak on.

She knew now that it had been a mistake coming here, this elf was much too powerful. For a moment in her mind she felt again the terrible pain that had felled her. She shuddered and crept on silent feet to the door, her boots were there next to it and she picked them up but wanting stealth, she didn’t put them on. The door opened a crack at her gentle tug, not locked in then.

Miriam couldn’t tell which way to go to find Mirma, her sense of the imp was all screwed up but the corridor she found herself in only allowed for two options anyway. Miriam was looking for escape, one direction lead to a set of stairs that led up. This building was in a tree, escape would be down, she headed off in the other direction and found herself on a balcony overlooking the tree tops.

It was a breathtaking view and thinking herself alone she let out a gasp and stepped back in wonder. From above, all of a sudden, she could hear Mirma’s voice approaching fast and screaming in rage. Miriam would have looked up but something else had happened that grabbed her more immediate attention. As she'd stepped back her back had bumped into something solid and warm and a pair of strong hands came to rest on her shoulders...
__________________
My bio(As the forum profiles seem to be broken atm please feel free to find out about me here)
SRP:
My SRP profile
The space between (With The_gladiator)
Teachers Special project (With latenightlover)
Old Friends (With BernadetteRochelle)
My stories:
Reflections on a painful past Ch.01 Ch.02 Ch. 03 (final)
PMs welcomed.
Group Uggg A place for my friends to visit me (Oh and there's poems)

Last edited by Uggg : 01-18-2018 at 02:14 PM.
  Reply With Quote
Reply


Thread Tools

Posting Rules
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

vB code is On
Smilies are On
[IMG] code is On
HTML code is Off
Forum Jump



All times are GMT -4. The time now is 06:32 AM.

Copyright 1998-2013 Literotica Online. Literotica is a registered trademark.