The Third Falling (closed for EroticLiteracy)

[Kismets_Paramour]

I shivered in my sleep and turned, arm outstretched in search of my blanket. Blanket... I frowned refusing to open my eyes even as I shivered again. My hip hurt and I wiggled in an effort to get comfortable but my memory foam mattress wasn't what greeted my bruised side.

"Wha-!"

I shot upright out of bed but this wasn't the bed I had fallen asleep in and I faltered in a hunched over seated position. I was in a meadow perfectly circled by thick trunked trees towering above me. Crushed wildflowers pillowed my failing form and outlined my sleeping shape like sad snow angels. The flower themselves were beautiful, delicate white cups reminding me of tulips were scattered around the meadow, overshadowed but the vibrant many petaled flowers in jewel tones. I don't know if it was shock or recognition that kept me frozen but suspended seconds turned minutes passed before I moved into a more comfortable seated position. It was too quiet but even as I thought that I could hear birds off in the distance singing to one another, the rustle of squirrels and the buzzing of something like a cricket? I didn't know enough about bugs to truly know it was a cricket, in my mind crickets chirped and screeched like unskilled violin students but it was the only thing that came to mind when I heard the sound. There was also water moving even further then the birds, a river? So maybe it wasn't too quiet but it was dramatically softer than the busy city I had fallen asleep to.

Pushing off the ground I expected to float up and drift, moving like a ghost over and through things. I didn't. Instead the hard ground met my palms with resistance and a small pebble dug into the fleshy pad below my thumb. Well that was new. Frowning I gathered my legs up under me and stood, half expecting to float and sorely disappointed when I didn't. It had been years since I had last been here, maybe things had changed. I didn't pry into why a fictional world I had dreamed up since childhood and suddenly changed. I felt crazy enough without needed to defend my actions and train of thought.

I took my first real step and ran into my first real problem.

It hadn't registered when I woke up to the pain in my hip or when I felt the rock pinch my palm as I tried to get up the first time but I felt pain. Not just pain but everything. I had always experienced emotions when I visited as a observer but this was the first time I was feeling sensations. This was real, the sharp broken edge of the flower stem jabbing me between my toes hurt. I took another step and frowned my feet having found a rock this time with the heel of my foot. When I was younger I had feet as tough as steel but I was a grown woman now and running around barefooted was looked down upon at my age.

Breathing deep I squared my shoulder and walked on. I was trying to ignore my soft feet but I walked with a special kind of gait that was sure to look every bit as silly as it felt as I tried to walk softly. Shivering again I continued to press on, my gray light cotton sleep pants and worn star trek cotton shirt offering little to no protection against the early morning chill.

"Mmmm..." I hissed skipping over a step like a drunken bunny when something stabbed at the arch of my foot. I had gone maybe twenty yards, I wasn't making any progress and missed the days when I hovered. In an attempt to distract myself I poured over a comparison of this visit and my last.

Six years ago, a lifetime ago... I watched the older father figure sharpen his sword, there was a tiredness that went deeper than just the surface, it reflected in his eyes and dulled the feeling of him. I wanted to help, to do something to make it better but all I was able to do was watch. He had grown a beard and at first I hated it but it grew on me so the selfish reason of it hiding the rest of his face the exhaustion I was sure was there as well. As the sun dipped below the treeline he paused in his task and slowly stood up and disappeared into the woods. I wanted to follow him but the sight of him hurt my heart and I was secretly happy for the chance to be alone.

I didn't know the name of this place so I had named it myself, to me it was a sanctuary and so that's what I named it. I had seen television programs of places from all around the world and Sanctuary was the best parts of them all. At time it was scary because Sanctuary was filled with magic and beasts that didn't exist in real life but under it all it was perfect. Everytime she visited there was a song to the lands, windchimes and happy flute sounds that you could feel. No matter the moods I was in, or the pains that my episodes gifted me, that warm glowing feeling could make it all go away.

My heart raced the closer I got to the treeline and the tips of my fingers pricked with nerves and I paused. I wouldn't call it fear, or maybe I would, welled up inside me as I started forward again. This wasn't right. Something was wrong. Everything screamed at me to run the other direction, the other direction was safer a small voice tried to convince me as I took yet another step towards that sickly feeling. Where was the warmth? The song that wrapped around you like a hug? This was all different, perhaps the reason behind the change in this visit versus all the others?

I didn't have an answer to that as I paused again, battling with myself against-

There was a scream.

My head swiveled towards the sound, ears straining to hear more. Maybe it was an animal?

But there it was again and I took off running. Not in the direction that felt safe and warm but further into the cold clutches of this dreadful illness and towards the screams.

Branches and shrubs thick with thorns pulled at my long hair and I cursed myself for not twisting it into a knot before I started running. Dodging a low hanging limb earned me a stinging slap in the face narrowly missing my eye and I stumbled over an exposed root. I don't know how far I had run or if I was even going the right direction and with my only clues being the few and far between screams I was fairly confident that I was going the wrong way.

Please be going the right way. Please. I begged as my lungs labored to take in enough air. I had spent too many years behind a desk and I showed in my figure and my burning calf muscles. Another scream was just the motivation I need to keep going, the trees around me started to thin out and I broke through the treeline into a large pasture. Farmlands by the looks of it. In fact as I scanned my surroundings I spied a smoldering building, a once upon a time house perhaps, burned leaving charred rocks, evidence of beams and ash.

My ragged breathing and the shift in the winds brought the smell of more than just a burning house my way. Animals I tried to convince myself but knew deep down the soured smell of rotting burned flesh and the distinct odor of burnt hair was more likely human. I tried breathing past the smell but it was impossible, in the movies and the books they never tell you just how strong the scent of fire and death are. How it clogs the very air itself almost thinning what oxegen there should be there with filth.

Coughing I finished the scan of the area and find nothing and no one responsible for the screams.

I'm too late. My shoulders sagged and my chin droped to my chest in defeat. If I had only-

"NOOO!!"

A young girl of maybe eleven, arms full of fabric bolted from the side of the burning house. Her dress was torn, ragged and cover in so much soot and ash it's original color was unidentifiable. She didn't even look behind her as she ran for her life. Something else that you always saw in movies but didn't seem to be true in real life.

Behind her a creature lumbered with an uneven gait, curved sword in hand and distant closing with every stride.

"GIRL!" I start at a run towards the girl confident that against one pursuer I could help her. I even had a smile on my face as the girl changed her heading towards me. Until I look past her and the single assailant has spawned into three, four now five. Shit. "Run! Faster!!" Saying as much was pointless and my voice strained with it's feeble effort. I was out of shape and running out of steam.

Still the girl nodded as she ran past me towards the trees I had just come from.

Now what?

There was nothing around me, no weapons or grown ups that could actually be of some help. Nothing I could use to stop five lightly armored orc like things all carrying weapons with practiced ease. I had to do something, the alternative was just letting the orc monsters pass by and go after the child.

A rock the size of my fist was the only other thing I could see within reach and I quickly picked up my newfound weapon and chucked it with all my might at the lead orc. It landed a lucky shot, hitting it right under the chin where his helmet gapped and left his throat exposed.

That seemed to be just the ticket for the creature to take notice of me. How it hadn't noticed me before, I don't know but now I had it's attention and he charged towards me. As a pack the other four moved with the first orc and all at once the remaining beasts saw me as well.

Shit.

If I wasn't sure of it before I was 100% all aboard sure of it now. I was scared and the closer the pack got to me the more knotted my stomach got. Urg... I could smell them, they were that close and if burning flesh was horrid the raw sewage, clotted old blood smell of these foul beings was way past ripe and threaten to make me puke right where I stood.

The orc that I had hit with the rock grunted some gurgled sound and lifted his sword high. Ten feet, he was ten feet from me and I was staring death down.

I would have liked to say I was staring down my death with a cold kind of collectiveness worthy of an action movie hero but I wasn't. I choked on my overwhelming panic, heart racing and pounding in my ears and my lungs still not recovered from my frantic run to my death gasped air in uneven breaths. All the while my visions swam with a collection of blinding sunbursts and black fairy spots.

Five feet.

Would anyone even notice I was gone. That I was dead? I swallowed against the pity party I was planning, reminding myself that my sacrifice could be the thing between the girl getting away and her death. My hands curled into fists and my nails bit painfully into my palms. I didn't know what I was going to do other then die but I wasn't going to met it like a meek mouse. Filling my lungs I screamed out a savage war cry, leaning into the bellowing shout as I stared down the bringer of my death.

Except it didn't happen like that.

Time slowed and something sharp snapped in my chest, what I imagined breaking all your ribs at once would feel like. Gathering what should have been agony as the sword cleaved into my body, energy radiated out from my chest. Scearing across all my nerve endings, down my legs the same time it shot out through my arms, to my fingers like lightning bolts uncontrolled, through my toes to the ground where the energy burst out like a connection of roots. It felt like someone was choking me and my head lifted as the war cry reached it's peak and more energy escaped from my open mouth.

As the energy surged outwards and the orcs ran into it and stopped, bodies rigid and trembling as if they were being electrocuted. A scar puckered and long since healed following the collarbone of the led orc under his leather shirt burst open like a fresh wound and thick dark red blood poured from the jagged opening. It, he? I couldn't decide. Opened his mouth to scream but there was no sound, blood now dripped from his sword hand causing him to drop the sword. I looked to the other orcs and found them in similar stages of torture. The one in the back had fallen to a knee and he clutched at his useless limb with terror. Another was already slumped on the ground in a pool of his own blood, while another slack faced but still fighting tried one step at a time to make it to me before he too collapsed to the ground. The last, nearest the first orc was arched back like a bow, his eyes rolled back to his head as his tremors became more violent before freezing air squeezed from his chest in a low whine before at last relaxing and falling limp to the ground.

The lead orc was still alive even though by now he had rivers of blood trickling down his arms and chest. A gash on his head blinding one of his eyes. Amazingly he shuffled forward, determined to pull the dagger from his hip. Unlike his friends who had died in different stages of fear, his eyes only held rage as he tried again to come for me.

I was smart enough to retreat back a step but it wasn't far enough as he lunged for me. It was a weakened attack and he went down in a last ditch effort to kill me. For all it was worth he did manage to rake the wickedly sharp blade down my shoulder, across my armpit to my arm just shy of my elbow. I barely even felt it or the blood that welled to the surface drenching my sleep clothes.

"Well that was fun..." I half chuckled, half moaned as my knees gave out from under me. I struggled to stay upright but failed, laying back. When did the sun rise? Shouldn't I be warm? Why am I so cold? My skin tingles and my chest feels too full. At least that quicksand prickly feeling from before is gone. My mind jumped from random thought to random thought. I hope the girl is safe. "Oh!" It was the girl and she had tears in her eyes. I frowned, she didn't make it and this was her ghost tormenting me with my failed attempt at saving her. "I'm sorry..." I breathed my injured arm raising before I flinched back. Oh the fairy spots are back.

The girl leaned over me and said something but her words were too far away and I couldn't hear her. Instead I just smiled and closed my eyes. I'm pretty sure I was dying and together we could go off into the otherworld, heaven or whatever it was that people wanted to call it. There I could apologize to her. My eyes fluttered open once more at the sound of a crying baby. Baby? My eyes closed again as a boiling sensation built in my injured arm.

Maybe I'm not dead and I'll just wake up.

This is afterall just a dream...

 

[EroticLiteracy]

ONE MONTH AGO

The broken ruins

Deep within the ruins of castle volkstaff lay a courtyard of stone. Nature long since claimed the courtyard taking it over with moss and trees. Several of the stones were cracked evidence of a battle and centuries of no care. The sky above filtered in from patched in the ceiling creating a dance of light depending on what the time of the day was. The room was cool and damp and every so often an animal would skitter across the stone before disappearing into the ruins.

“It is happening again”

The whisper came from the shadows to the left. A hand waved out of the darkness and the long dead torches burst to life illuminating the room. The stones glowed ever so slightly as if they were excited at the prospect of what was about to take place.

Hooded figures moved out of the darkness not so much walking as floating. Their faces were hidden by the beaked hoods they wore. Their hands however were exposed gnarled twisted appendages that looked impossibly ancient. They carried no weapons yet gave off a chill of danger and dread.

“The order of the Dragon must be called” Another hooded man said appearing opposite the three who stepped into the circle.

“Yessss” Another one said hissing as it waved its hand at the carvings on the stone. Each one represented a different banner a different house and species who once pledged themselves to the order. The air crackled with energy as those pictures began to darken against the stone.

“The blood pact is initiated” The one said looking at the others “The order of the ancients has been called to serve. It is our will to reform the order of the Dragon.. The Templars.”

“There is the matter of the prophecy” A new one said gliding out of the shadows and moving to its brothers “The girl”

“The girl” the others whispered outstretching their hands to heaven.

“She will appear soon” The hooded creature said continuing “the master is sure of it”

“She will find us” One of them said “that much is known”

“These ruins do not suit our purpose brothers” Another one hissed waving his hand dismissively around the room “We must beseech our allies for new accommodations”

“Ssssend the lettersssss” Another one said dismissively “raise the bannerssss”

“Thy masterssss will be done” They all said in unison. They sunk back into the shadows disappearing as the torches died at once. The rocks remained the stones still stained.
………………………………………..
ONE WEEK LATER

“Ki!”

The young man rose his short sword angling it to deflect the much larger heavier broadsword. Might didn’t always amount to strength. His short swords could easily block the much larger heavier blade as long as the right angle was applied.

Like now.

“Shit” his opponent growled as the blade continued its path down to the ground. There was a sharp CLANG as it hit the stone floor. The younger man watched as his opponent’s hands shook trying not to lose his sword entirely.

It was time to strike!

He leapt forward light on his feet. He brought the pummel of his sword down knocking his opponents training helmet. The effect was instantaneous, his grip on his broadsword loosened as he brought his hand up to hold his helmet. The young man followed through with a crouch and downward sweep of his leg. He sent the much larger man toppling over and down onto the hard-rocky floor.

“Bastard” The man growled grabbing his helmet and shucking it off. The bearded man growled as he rose pointing a finger at the younger man.

“You cheated” Gerald growled his fingers curling into fist.

“I did no such thing” Came the young man’s reply as he twirled his two short swords and slid them back into the scabbard on his back “You mocked my swords good sir I simply proved you wrong”

“Why you little!”

“That’s enough Caliban!” A older voice called out from the ledge above “Quit teasing Gerald… And Gerald do not forget you speak to a young lord”

Both men turned to take in Lord Erendale Caliban’s father and the owner of Helms Keep. They both bowed in response. Caliban tried his best to hide his smile grateful for his long black hair that hid his eyes. He could feel the animosity emanating off of Gerald and the contempt. He knew many of his father’s men felt the same way about him and considered his time in the isles to be a hindrance not a help.

Of course the story of his life was one of people being unhappy with him. He was the only sired male born on the night of a full moon and raging storm. His mother died bringing him into the world and it was suspected that he would to given that he was so frail and tiny. The men in the north were strong however and his father insisted the strength of their ancestors would see Caliban through the night.

And he was right.

Caliban survived but was different from the others. He was slight and small where his father was large and broad. He looked sickly as a child and was unable to do several things like hunt. He was teased for it, teased enough that it was decided by his father that he would go away for his schooling. He was sent to the isles on his thirteenth birthday and it was there he learned how his weakness could become strengths. He honed his body under the tutelage of the esteemed master Wu and came back not only with tan skin but a muscular body and his two short swords.

Of course to them he was still a stranger. People like Gerald who once bullied him were eager to keep doing so. He was proving them wrong one beat down at a time. The pride in his father’s eyes was what really drove him however. After so many years of seeing the worry and fear the pride was like a healing boon upon his soul.

“Caliban come” His father said pointing towards the entrance to their large castle “I have need of you”

“Of course father” Caliban said going over to the attendant and unlatching his leather armor. He let the servant take his weapons and moved giving Gerald one last smile before ducking inside. The heat of the castle welcomed him reminding him of the isles as he followed his father to the throne room.

“What is it my lord?” Caliban asked his confusion growing. His father shook his head and turned bringing Caliban into his office. Once they were in he closed to the door bolting it before going to the painting on the wall.

“Tell me about this painting” His father said not asking but commanding.

“Of course” Caliban said stepping forward “It’s the final battle our ancestors took part in. The one where dark evil was driven from the land”

“It was called the falling” His father explained reaching out to touch the image of darkness “There was one before it that all but wiped us from the world. The second time it appeared the order of the ancient was formed to give the warriors direction. Those warriors became the order of the dragon they were said to be the best of the best”

His father paused to let that sink in before continuing.

“Our ancestors pledged our family line to the order of the dragon” His father explained running his hand on the picture frame. There was a click and it swung open revealing a small chest with a lock.

“Countless families and species are still pledged to this order” His father said pulling out a brass key “By blood we can be called upon IF there is another falling”
He slid the key into the chest and unlocked it. The minute he did Caliban felt a tug in his body. It was as if his very soul was being pulled in the direction of the box. For the first time in his life he felt the weight of destiny on his shoulders. His father pulled out a small singlet ring with a dragon crest stamped on its side. The dragons tail curled around a dark ruby ring which pulsated with red.

“The call has been put out” His father explained handing the ring over to Caliban “A third falling is upon us we must honor the blood pact”

“What does this mean” Caliban said turning the ring over in his hand.

“It means you will go in my stead” His father explained placing a heavy hand on his shoulder “I am too old to participate in such grand battles. I shall raise the banners and send the men but you must go to represent our house”

“Are you certain father?” Caliban asked his hand tightening on the ring “Surely they will want LORD Eastwick”

“The future Lord will do just fine” His father replied smiling “You have grown up much since I sent you to the Isles. Your mother would have been proud. I trust you to represent our house and our ancestry”

Caliban couldn’t help the large smile that grew on his face. To hear those words from his own father’s lips meant all the training was worth it. He felt a rush of affection for the man and moved forward wrapping him in a big hug before letting him go.

“I shall leave at once father” Caliban said his voice shaking with excitement “I will not let you down!”

“Of that I am sure” His father said chuckling “Follow the ring it will tell you where they are gathering make haste son and send word once you know what they need”
“Aye father” Caliban said he moved to the door and paused.

“Born from the stone” Caliban said tapping his forehead and giving his father the old family greeting.

“Born from the stone” His father said back tapping his own forehead. The two looked at each other for several seconds before Caliban finally bowed his head. He turned and left closing the door behind him as he set off on his quest.

 

[Kismets_Paramour]

Sweat broke over his brow, beaded and ran down his face and into his eyes. Marcus' dark brown eyes merely just blinked, sword and shield raised as he shouted orders over the field of new recruits. The men and women before him all bore the same tall tower shield with the Royal Army crest designed on the front. A sanguine field with a two tower castle a high bridged wall spanning between the bastions and a portcullis, scaled in whites, grays and blacks to show age and details. With two mighty erminois wyverns, tails curled around the towers protectively facing outwards from each other, eyes trained to see the coming dangers.

Marcus Steward, Commander of the Vanguard and Council Member of the Strategist and Advisors, it had been years since he was tasked with mentoring fledglings. Many of his ranking took offence and what they saw as a lesser man's chore but Marcus felt like a man younger than his 42 years working and training in the yard appointed for novice soldiers. There were memories to be hand and shared in the flattened dirt patch they labored on. The high west wall of the armory were a deeper yellowed brown then he remembered and the stables closer too. The memory of this place was idolized, but he had been a child and nothing was as wondrous as learning you would train with the King's Army. He could see the walls in his mind's eyes sparkling in the sun, the recruits as precise and skill as any seasoned warrior. The horses were beasts of war and beauty with eyes that glowed with fire, snorts of smoke coiled from their nostrils and there wasn't a single whiff of polluted air drifting from their stable.

If he hadn't been born around that smell his whole life he could see himself wrinkling his nose just as the tenderfoot before him was doing. "Keep that shield up." Marcus warned tapping the young boy of maybe eighteen with his strawberry blond hair with his sword. He had dropped his shield and kep his head lifted exposing his neck and the sword tapped the bareskin, a fatal strike if this had been anything but practice.

"Ven Commander Marcus!" A squire, younger even than his recruits hunched over in front of him, out of breath and face red and patchy. "I come-"

Marcus held out his hand effectively cutting off the squire. He wore a tabard quartered with the royal colors but no crest, he had yet to be assigned a Knight to serve. A minor lordling's son, one that perhaps irked the failing King in some matter? Or more a noble house? He slowly looked the boy over; he had a long lean face, tawny eyes, a sharp nose and thin set lips and a mop of messy flaxen hair that wanted to curl as it grew out. "Beckett's youngest, yes?"

The boy nodded his head. "Liam." He provided a meek smile. "I come with word from the King. He calls for you."

A lesser lord's son but from a good family. Unwise in their quest for love but the heart is as wild as the seas and you could not fault a high born son for following his heart. "Turid." Marcus turned from the boy, eyes searching for his second in command. He didn't say anything as he handed the shield to the tall, sharp faced woman with icy blue eyes and pale hair it was almost white cut just under her angular jawline. Nevertheless she tilted her head in acknowledgement and returned to the field of soon to be soldiers.

"Lead the way." Marcus offered to the boy knowing full well that the King hadn't left his bed in months and would be there still. Marcus didn't like what crouched in the shadows of the horizon. Demands for further search parties for the lost Queen and her two sons, a pointless endeavor as it had been nearly thirty years since the boat sank and still it rang at council meetings over and over again. At was as pointless as placing a simpleton bastard on the throne. Worse yet was a child, five years of age already turned from his own people and ways by the hand of his foreign mother. It was a marriage, the King's second, a political treaty between what threatened to be the first war in years. It was a play that stopped the bickering from distant lands but it did nothing to endear the new Queen to her new homeland. The birth of a son gave her a ear to vent to and a mind to shape and mold. If Marcus had a say the King's younger brother was the strongest fit for the role. He had many true born sons and daughters, commanded his own garrison and even trained and served as one of the elite King's Guard and held the respect of many of the noble families.

Hours later a grim faced Marcus marched from the King's chambers. The Banners of the Order had been called, a Third Falling was upon them. It was almost too much to process. In fact the single drop of knowledge caused an endless tide of ripples to disturb the normally quiet peace of his mind. It explained the sudden influx of new soldiers. It explained more than that.

A Steward would gather the banners like his Father's-Father-Father before that. It was an order given by the King and promised by birth long before Marcus took his first breath. The King informed him that a horse had been readied with all that he would need. It would speed his journey and future return. As if stopping a Falling was as simple as gathering Lords and Ladies from noble houses and getting their families to promise their men at arms to the King's Army. And that was just a task for Men. What came of the Dwarven people and that of the Elves was a completely different matter. In tales of old all three races would meet at a common ground, ruins by now and empty of life, and bound a an army of one bring their combined forces againt the darkness. The problem stood that no one, not even the King, knew where this meeting place was. It was a singular problem from a mountain of many.

From the castle Marcus rounded the training yard and officially gave command of the recruits and the Vanguard over to Turid, She gave him a long look but said nothing. "You'll hear of it soon enough." He answered the silent question and Turid nodded.

"Winds be kind to you Ven Commander."

"Sky watch over you Turid." Came the reply, a stableboy running to met Marcus, a large black stallion prancing eagerly behind him. The magnificent beast was one of the King's own stock, horses were rarity afford only the nobility and the rich, it was an extravagant gift and one that Marcus would put to good use. As Marcus swung up into the saddle a feeling of dread settled upon him like a cold runner rain. The task set before him was daunting, find every family name pledged to the Order, raising old families fallen along the way back to grandeur and proper standing and get dozens of houses still in order to call arms in something that couldn't be beaten.

A dry chuckled escaped from Marcus' lips, twitching the reigns and nudging the horse with his heels. 'I never did like things simple.' He thought to himself as the horse took off at a gallop.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Four Days Later

Agnarr. It was the first family name on the list and the first to be crossed off. All that was left of the once prosperous trading family was an elderly man half sunk in his ale. His tale of this three dead sons and wife was filled with sorrow and lead to his abandonment of wealth and title. All that he claimed to have was the hope of a sleeping death never to wake again.

It wasn't the way Marcus imagined starting and he bid the elderly man his heartfelt sympathies and farewells, returning to the road as quickly as courtesies allowed. The next name on the list listed a surviving son from some years ago and a keep name, if the weather held it was only a two day ride. Marcus prayed that the next family would hold better luck for him or that a bird would find him and steer him in the direction of a meeting place.

 

[Kismets_Paramour]

Bang. BANG!

In the pause between the clusters of shots, the white noise overlapping the shrill ringing silenced my world. My vision narrowed and time slowed. People ran without course, like scattered and frightened ants. I was sure they were screaming, their faces were twisted in horror, with eyes wide and mouth open but I heard nothing.

BANG, bang-bang-bang!

I stood frozen, I wanted to feel fear but all I felt was anger. I knew what was behind me, felt their blood splatter my back. I heard their gurgled last breath, the croaking gasp of death and willed it to not be true. In a way I was scare, but not of the man with the gun but of what I would see. Their death would be the end and I knew deep in my heart that I would have to wake up. I didn't want to wake up.

Blood rained from the sky, blinding me, covering my narrowed vision in red and dulling my rage and feelings of injustice. The screams heightened, a pleading song of mixed parts sorrow and terror. It moved my heart and sped it's beating once over twice until it pounded free from my chest. The pain crippled me and I staggered to my knees, eye watering and breath seized in my lungs. Sightless I reached out with shaken hands, groping in the red veiled darkness until something warm and wet brushed againt the back of my left hand. I tried to still the trembling in my arms, to steady myself, my heart was frail and my hands needed to be careful as I placed it back into my chest.

Tenderly I took my heart feeling it's rhythmic beating against my palms. I let out a slow breath, with the death's of my Fathers should have broken- BANG! I jumped at the sound, my body flinching and a new pain laced through my chest. The beating faltered, paused, sputtered and restarted before stopping again. Bah, I felt the heart shatter in my hand like a little explosion and I tried to keep the pieces from breaking apart by gripping the cooling organ together. Pops. The heart, my heart splinter again and pieces smaller then my grip fell though my fingers. Frantic I squeezed my heart harder and my world spun, I became lightheaded and my grip on my heart lessened and more pieces fell from my grip. People bright and shining, memories happy and warm, they all tumbled from my hand and I let they go as I sunk to my knees.

My knees hit the ground and the wet mushed sound was like a sponge falling and hitting the floor. It was water I lied to myself but the metallic coppery scent filled my nose and washed over my tastebuds like a dirty penny. I still couldn't see but I could feel myself sink into the ground much like quicksand I imagined, quicksand made of clotted thick blood. I wanted to gag but I was numb to everything, it was another lie, I felt everything but it was an overload of sensations and emotions. As I sunk into the cold quicksand my body stopped feeling and I was torn, did I want to sink quicker into the emptiness or did I fear it? Was the emptiness death?

Jello, because I refused to acknowledge it as anything else, soured by death filled my mouth and I tried to scream, fighting too little too late, coughing squirming a body that was beyond my control. I couldn't breath, my lungs were heavy swollen with the blood of my fathers, the taste made me gag but there was no air to complete the action. Fear lead to panic and within that last second I distantly wondered a great many maybes in my life that could have been.

Peace.

It was the last thing I expected to feel as I floated in the dark suspended nothingness. I could also breathe and all traces of blood was gone. My chest still ached and now my arm burned but it was a happy tradeoff for that was. I took a deep and greedy breath in and smiled at myself as the pain in my chest lessened but that too was a trade as the burning in my arm amplified. At first it had been an irritation, itching like a day old sunburn but it grew with an intensity that was frightening. My arm pricked with fire and the feeling which started at my shoulder towards my collarbone tickled down my arm to the outside edge near my elbow. The tickle didn't last and whatever embers it left behind roared into a hungry beast.

I could scream here, where ever this place was and I took advantage of the privilege. I screamed until my lungs burned with the effort, until my throat was raw and my head was dizzy. And then I screamed again. I don't know how long I screamed but it felt like eternity.

Light, I was surprised into silence. I could see here, the darkness was being pushed back and the void was brightening. The fire burned down as the sun rose and my breathing eased. A weariness I had never felt before washed over me and lured me to sleep and I went willingly, I didn't have the energy to fight it anymore, plus I didn't want to wake up.

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

"Curses-" I croaked rolling to my side to quiet my alarm. I didn't make it further then the roll, winching in pain, moaning in agony. What the- Every bone in my body ached and all it's connective tissue seared with echoed flames, muscles petrified like stone and arm dead at my side. "By all that is HOLY!" I growled thumping my alarm clock, choking back a newly thought up curse. I didn't know what being runover felt like but I guessed it was something akin to this.

"Ahump." I wimped getting to my feet. This was the only time I hated not having direct access to my bathroom from my bedroom. The gimpy trek to the bathroom was a pitiful sight to behold and I swallowed continued moans, whines and swear words hoping that with every footstep I would feel better. I didn't and I was embarrassed to admit that by the time I made it to the bathroom I was out of breath.

The bright lights the flooded the bathroom made me realized that it was still dark outside and I-

All the air rushed out of my lungs all at once and I lurched myself to the sink bracing my hand out againt the wall sized mirror, my entire body protesting at the sudden movement. I was covered, literally covered in dried aged blood. My new sheets! My brain pouted as more details came into focus. Upon further inspection, I wasn't actually covered in blood, it was just my clothes and my hair had been pulled back and braided. A memory of a dream pulled at me but as hard as I tried to recall the thought it was like catching the wind. I was at a loss and the felling of being left clueless was not only unfamiliar but unnerving. There was some kind of logical explanation, there had to be, what that explanation was I hadn't the foggiest idea.

"I look like death." I whistled petting my free hand over my face. I was devoid of color, my skin paler then I had ever seen it. It was almost pretty with the way that it made my emerald green eyes scream for attention and detailed the gentle almond curved shape of my eye and the thick fringe of lashes. Even the dash of freckles over my sharp cheekbones, bridge of my nose, scattered across my collarbone and down the valley of my chest were cute, something I have never thought before. That being said it did make my normally dusky pink pouty bottom lip with it's contrasting hard bow top lined lip even more outstanding, the color a deeper red and while chapped looked bruised. Or the kind of kissed bruised from soap operas that didn't really look all that bruised just more touched with makeup.

The more I stared at myself the more distanced I became with the reasons, explanations or answers. I was crazy, someone had slipped me drugs and I was having a mental breakdown. It was the simplest solution to all of this, I waved my hand at my reflection and shook my head. Or this was a dream. It felt too real to be a dream but you know what, when you wake up drenched in blood from an unknown source insanity or dream was the pony you wanted to put your money on.

I moved as quickly as I could removing the blood starched clothing, it dried flakes that littered my floor and the sound the shirt made when it hit the floor had me taking a moment to collect myself. I wasn't going to vomit on top of it all, I promised myself. "That's..." From my shoulder down and across my armpit to my elbow was a arched angry red line, a healing wound weeks old if not older. "...New." I touched a finger too it still not sure if what I was seeing was real and felt the heated scar under my fingertip. That pulling sensation that said I should be remembering something but wasn't was back but without some clue as to what it was, I ignored it shoving it into the 'to deal with later' box in my mind.

"Crazy." I sang starting the water in my shower. "Or dreaming." I continued to sing as I removed the rest of my clothing. "Or both!" I laughed finally losing it as I sought sanity under the water too hot to be comfortable.

The shower helped, there was a faint return to my coloring and as long as I didn't look at the pile of bloody clothes in the corner or the healing scar in the mirror I would pretend like everything was alright. The hot water had loosen some of tension and stiffness out of my muscles and while there was still a lingering pain it was far more manageable then before.

It was far from normal but I fell back into my normal routine, brewing coffee, setting out my clothes and picking out my favorite delicates from the top drawer. I checked my bed over, there wasn't any blood but the dried flakes peppered the cool gray sheets and I striped the bed tossing it all into the washer and setting it on it's highest setting.

An hour later I exit from my apartment ready to meet the day with hopes that my gifted bag of surprises was done with.

I wasn't that lucky. I had been gone for a total of three days and as Direct of Operations there was a mess of things left undone and pushed off to the side in my absence. I claimed sudden and surprising departure and said nothing else on the matter. Not that anyone questioned it, they all just seemed pleased that I was back, apparently the last three days were hell. No one knew how to deal with the missed deliveries or the drunken upset VIP guest.

It was going to be a long day, a long couple of days if I was being honest with myself.

 

[EroticLiteracy]

ONE WEEK AFTER THE CALL

Montegorri

The ring was guiding him.

He didn’t know what magic it held but he knew its path was true. When on the right road it would glow warm pulsating like a heartbeat. If he chose wrong it grew cold constricting just enough to pinch him and let him know. It never hurt him per say but its position on his ring finger made him shiver all the same. His time in the Ile’s taught him much about magic and the strange and above all he knew it to be a very tricky very dangerous thing to wield. If it weren’t for his vow to his father he would have taken the thing off!

But he didn’t instead letting it guide him along the marshes. The area was thick with swamps and water practically swollen with it! There was danger everywhere in the form of sink holes and thick deep bogs. He was unsure why the ring was taking him deeper into the land surely the Inquisition wouldn’t be setting up here?
He received his answer the next day. After having stopped to make camp for the night he awoke to find a caravan of supplies and men moving on the road as well. They were wary of him at first but once he showed them the ring and its sigil they relaxed. He found out he wasn’t the only noble man called forth and that their lord Stonewall was sending them to garrison The River Fort. When asked what the River Fort was they simple laughed and said he would see it shortly. Caliban elected to travel the rest of the way with them learning their names and what was going on. Everyone who was able or still had men was diverting troops to the River Fort. The Fish king was the one who owned and it was said that he was the one who offered it up for the Templars. The order of the ancients were already there locked in the east tower as they tried to scry and find the “chosen one”.

“Bunch of nonsense if you ask me” The commander of the division said as they marched down the path “As if we need one specific person to turn the tide. We’ll win this fight with soldiers and bodies! Not with silly magic”

Caliban nodded his head being polite even if he didn’t quite agree. There was magic in the air ancient and powerful magic that mere mortals couldn’t comprehend. Who knew what that magic would call for and who would wield it.
They rounded a corner and the fishing city of Montegorri appeared before them. It was built on the river a massive bridge type structure of stone and wood. The river itself was wide running with crystal clear water that showed off a plethora of fish.
“THAT is the River Fort” The commander said pointing with his finger at a massive structure at the end of the river.

Caliban’s eyes widened as he took it in. The structure was a mixture of stone and wood and sat directly in the middle of the river. It was built on stilts raised up slightly to allow small boats to pass by. There was a dock directly under the keep which featured a bunch of ships of different makes and models. Steps led up to the fort which featured a high stone wall and a bridge on each side.

“Come on” The commander said chuckling at Caliban’s awe struck face “The Fish King will want to see you”

“Why is he called the Fish King?” Caliban asked shaking himself out of his stupor and following after him.

“Lord Maximum is his real name” The commander explained as they moved through Montegorri “But he prefers the Fish King. He created all of this turning a shit piece of land into a flourishing fishing business.”

“I see” Caliban said as they moved to the other side of the river. They continued down the path until finally they reached a gate blocking the entrance to the River Fort. Two guards in black armor were waiting bearing shields with a fish for a crest.

“Who goes there?” The lead one asked in a heavy accent.

“Caliban Eastwick!” Caliban shouted “Lord Eastwick who has come to pledge to the order of the dragon!”

The commander shouted out his house as well and the guards nodded. The lead one barked a few orders and seconds later the massive metal gate swung open. The bridge was cleared and the man nodded giving them permission to go into the fort. Caliban thanked him as they moved in and left the commander and his men to go find the other lords. Luckily there was an attendant waiting for him the son of a minor lord who was helping to organize everything. Caliban soon found out he was a desert nomad one of the groups who moved around the hardtack desert in the south. Caliban walked with him trying to figure out how the man’s skin had become so black as he showed him to the commander’s room.

“Lord Eastwick is here!” The young minor lord said introducing Caliban “Asking permission to join the war room”

“I told you ceremony wasn’t needed boy!” An older man shouted from inside the room “Tell Eastwick to get his arse in here!”

Caliban nodded and moved passing by the minor lord and stepping into the war room. A massive stone set in the middle with troops and figures on it. A group of men ringed the table all much older than him. They turned to look at him narrowing their eyes as they noted how young he was. He did his best to keep his cool as he walked in pulling his riding gloves off and letting everyone see the ring.

“Lord Eastwick is here” Caliban said as a man stepped forward with long wet salt and pepper hair.

“Lord Eastwick?!” The man shouted his crooked nose turning up at the sight of Caliban “That bastard sent his boy to fight for us? You look like you could still be on your mother’s teat!”

“My mother is dead” Caliban said narrowing his eyes “and my father is old and dealing with a leg injury he sent me to represent our house and commit our armies to the order of the dragon”

“Leave the boy alone Fish” Another Lord said with a long beard “Come in Lord Eastwick we were just going over the current force”

Caliban nodded grateful to be included. He moved to the table brushing past the Fish King who simply grunted in response. He moved to the table and looked out over the map taking note of the current forces.

“Our forces are committed and gathering as we speak” Caliban explained grabbing the figure representing his crest and pushing it forward “We should have ten thousand men ready to be garrisoned. I can send word to my father to bring the army here”

“Not here” The Fish King grumbled tapping his finger on a wide clearing away from the Fort “That’s where the bulk of our army is gathering”

“The ancients haven’t told us where the failing will be” The bearded lord said gesturing with his hands upstairs “Once we know we will bring the army to it and prepare our defenses”

“Good luck getting an answer out of them” The Fish King snorted spitting out on the floor “Those foul creatures are too busy trying to find the chosen one”

“Have they given any hint to who it might be?” Caliban asked raising an eyebrow.
“Not yet” Another lord said a portly fellow with a round face.

“Sooner or later they will need to put up or shut up until then we are all sitting on our Arse’s” The Fish King retorted going to the door “Now boys let’s eat! Who wants fish?”

There was a collective groan from the other lords and Caliban couldn’t help but smile. He moved with them sticking with the bearded lord as they went to go eat.

 

[Kismets_Paramour]

I threw back two more pain pills knowing that by the label's instructions I was overdosing myself but I weighted the pros and cons of what taking one extra pill would be and shrugged it off. The piercing headache that had elevated itself from mildly annoying to jarring sharp pain was the tipping factor against minor possibilities of liver or kidney problems. There had been a time when my seizures where slowly brought on, teasing foreplay of dizziness, dancing fairy spots and pinpricked fingertips. Always it would grow, the numbing sensations spreading from my fingers up my arms turning to fire as my fists curled in pain. The dizziness would swallow all train of thought as my vision blurred as the dancing spots thickened and blinded me. As the darkness overcame me I would fade into unconsciousness where peace should have found me.

Oh, the good old days.

Now the episodes attacked like a jealous ex-lover. Nothing was slow about the assault, it struck like a cold ice pick, each strike a white lightening rod of flailed nerve endings. The pain was sickening, tearing at my stomach as I continuously swallowed against the swelling bile at burned at the back of my throat.

In my younger years I didn’t fight against the episodes, I didn’t know that I could and honestly at the time the escape was preferable to what I had called life. But things changed, for the better and the escapes started to bring their own type of pain, robbing me of my first sanctuary. It was then that I resisted, learned to suppress and deny. It didn’t come all at once, it was a long journey with many failures but with time came progress and years brought it with success. The seizures lessened in both frequency and intensity until it was a rarity.

Emptying the water bottle I closed my eyes and braced myself on the solid wooden top of my desk.

"Director."

I winced at the sound but didn't open my eyes.

"Director."

The nagging voice repeated my title as if that would change my reaction to sound.

"There's a problem in the gardens..."

I rubbed at my temples willing the headache to go away squinting as I opened my eyes. "Wedding Planner Johnson-" I started only to be interrupted.

"She got food poisoning and had to leave for the day." Scott explained.

The Adams / Fitzpatrick wedding was the talk of the socialite calendar and Melissa Fitzpatrick was the kind of bridezilla that could have won awards for being the best or was it worse kind of bridezilla? "What's the problem?" I didn't question Sara's departure, she wasn't the type that left without just reasons, I hoped she was well but as harsh as it was, she wasn't my problem at the moment.

Scott cringed. "Something about organic sourced cotton?"

"Cotton?"

"And the gardens clashing with her new color scheme." Scott added. "Also there was a confrontation with the bar staff."

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Right." Pushing off the desk I straighten my shoulders and ignored my swimming vision. "Lets tend to the Bride."

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

"Do we even know where this cotton comes from? I don't want there to be child labor blood cotton at my wedding!"

The erratic screaming from the garden stopped me midstep. I wasn't in the mood for this and honestly I didn't understand people like this. Those that had everything and still nothing made them happy.

"Ms Fitzpatrick." I strolled into the green lawns a polite smile on my face. "My name is Viola Sung-Locke and I am the Plaza's Director of Operations. Wedding Planner Johnson had a matter that called her away for the rest of the day." I explained closing the distance between the two of us. I didn't know what I expected but the thinly veiled rage was not it.

Ms Fitzpatrick took one look at me and smirked. "Am I to believe that you are going to help me?" She sneered. "You with your neighborhood market pant suit?"

It was Neiman Marcus but I didn't correct her. The high waisted wide legged dress pant was a matte smokey black with faint charcoal gray pinstriping. The windsor one button blazer was a match in color and stripping with a silk cool gray sleeveless slit collar blouse. The shoes were a matte black soft leather fashioned in a ankle boot cut with a low chunky heel. It was a professional look that also managed to be comfortable and easily wearable. And apparently not good enough for Melissa Fitzpatrick.

I smiled through the verbal assault on my fashion sense and pressed on to the problems at hand. "It was brought to my attention that you had some questions and concerns that needed to be addressed."

Melissa tossed a rosy peach table napkin in my general direction and I watched it flutter to the ground. "These won't do." She spun on her heel a silent command to follow her. "Or these, or that and well all of this." She pointed to the half dozen sample tables, their placements and then to the gardens themselves. "I've had a change of heart and none of these colors or those flowers will match my current desires."

"So it is the colors and the flowers that displeases you?" Those were simple enough things to change.

Melissa laughed but it wasn't a sound of delight, it was taunting and cruel. "I find you and your questions displeasing. The manner in which you dress and your lack of self pride." She hissed looked down at me as if I were some kind of bug. "And here I thought that wedding planner woman was a fright." She tilted her head up and laughed. "Oh how wrong I was. You my dear are the saddest creature I've yet to lay my eyes upon."

Her words sung and againt all my better judgment I started to lose my grip on my emotions and react. My head was already light, my vision dazed and fuzzy with dancing spots and it joined red lines of anger and the thundering rush of blood filling my ears. "If it'll be more satisfactory for you, you may compose a list and-"

"When is it ever the job of the bride to do the wedding planner's job. Is this your first day on the job? Surely there is someone with half a brain that can- EW!" Melissa recoiled as if she had been hit, a look of pure disgust twisting her face. "Are you diseased?!" She accused me with a pointed finger.

My brows wrinkled in confusion until I felt the warm wet tickle of liquid run down my top lip. Raising my hand it came away crimson with blood and I stared down at the stain, muttering a quick departure heading for the nearest bathroom.

I made it in a just in time for my heart to skip and flutter, my hands gripping the edges of the sink until my knuckles turned white. I was tired of blood, I had already dealt with my share of it and I couldn't afford to keep ruining clothes with bloodied rust marks.

Swallowing I tried to catch my breath, praying for the pain pills I had took earlier in the day to take effect. I was a prayer unanswered and like a tidal wave everything was amplified tenfold and I weakened and buckled under its force. My knees giving out from under me as I lost consciousness even before my body hit the ground.

 

[Kismets_Paramour]

The bird found him midday just as Marcus vered west. The meeting place had been set, The Fish King would host the quarters for the Third Falling. Strange that a self titled 'King' had been the one to offer his dominion to the cause, as a distant relations to the King did it make the move a political one or a necessary one? Still the news was welcoming, gathering the distant lesser nobles promised to the King but not the Order was tiring work but as the King was removed from this part in the Falling due to his health, Marcus was slotted into that position.

Pulling a fresh slip of paper from his saddlebag and a charcoal splinter Marcus jotted the families he had visited, the men and arms they pledged and attached it to the bird before releasing it to fly back to it's place of origin. He watched the bird take off, wings easily carrying him up and over the trees and past his line of sight.

The River Fort was true west from here a few days of easy riding and as it was on the way... Marcus redrafted the map in his mind figuring he could delay his journey a day or two to stop by a few more noble estates. As the note said nothing about having found the girl-child Marcus calculated a few days in his favor. He wasn't one to gamble, there was too much risk in the act but he didn't see what consequences there would be in the delay.

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

Pain.

I opened my expecting there to be pain, from the headache and the fall but there was none of that. In fact the cold tile floor of the bathroom was now sun warmed grass.

"I can't-" I jolted up the ground and took a look around what I knew was that other place. "This can't be possible." I grunted getting to my feet with relative ease. I wanted to argue with what was happening but I knew enough from my last visit and the blood and unexplained scar as well as the missing time that there was something going on.

While I was ecstatic that the pain was gone, that prickling feeling that crawled over my skin was back. It seemed that it was an occurrence that only happened while I was here, wherever here might be.

Standing I took note of my surroundings, it was different then last time, a pasture on a hillside with a view that commanded a view of the near farmlands. Closing my eyes I focused on that guy twisting feeling, it was worse towards the west? If the time was the same as it would be at home then the sun's cast made that direction west.

Automatically I turned east, I wanted nothing to do with those feelings and the creatures that came of them. Yet as I started walking my mind pestered me about the young girl I had saved, and was the baby a thing of my imagination or was it a truth? What if there was another child in need of help?

Groaning I turned around and headed west, towards the growing feeling of dread.

Woo me and my idiotic hero complex.

it was funny to me because I never considered myself as someone to be the hero.

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

The stallion Marcus named Charger shorted and kicked his feet out in a multitude of miniature crow hops. Something was setting the horse off but it was something that Marcus was already aware of.

The open road made Marcus feel vulnerable, he didn't like feeling like he was being watched and whatever it was that had Marcus on high alert had finally settled in his steed.

The whistle of an arrow flying though the air was the confirmation that there was trouble. A small lowset stacked rock wall with a pair of tree some thirty yards off became Marcus' focus. It was either that or the downhill of the next knoll that hid the ambush and the arrow had clearly come from that direction.

Drawing his sword Marcus turned the horse towards the wall, waiting. The first arrow was followed by a second, equally off point as the first. "A waste of arrows..." He muttered stilling Charger as he waited more their bad aim to reveal their force.

Four arrows later and an echoed hollow scream of a Corrupt filled the air. The sound always raised the hairs at the nape of Marcus' neck. The once men crawled over the knee high wall on all fours, bodies crooked and movements jerky on skin and bone covered bodies.

While Corrupts were easy enough to dispatch they were always in rabid pack, mindless creatures set on tearing the flesh and dragging their opponents to the ground where they could overwhelm by sheer numbers.

"Ha!" Marcus didn't need to do much more then brush his heels against the eager stallion to rocket him forward in a gallop. The first swing of his sword cleaved the first Corrupt's head from his body, the back swing Marcus used the flowing motion to slit the throat of another with the razor tip of his sword.

Rounding the line of attack, not wanting to get closer to the archers that hid , Marcus came about on the next Corrupt. Charger rammed into the abomination, his armor protecting him from nails and teeth as he stomped the life from the Corrupt.

In the pause the Corrupt swarmed, their number growing with every breath. Charger reared and Marcus slashed but hands pulled and tugged unseating him and free of his rider Charger kicked and stomped, bit and turned but he too was overrun.

The Corrupt split between the two fighters, circling then and striking out scoring minor hits here and there. The dying horse's cried cut at Marcus but with a horde of his own there was little he could do. Plies of bodies surrounded him and still they came. Marcus heard Charger die and his enemies doubled.

Arrows added to the battle and Marcus, coated in thick sludgy black blood, accepted his coming death with a vow to take as many with him as possible.

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

I wasn't familiar with the sound but it was close enough to those historical action movies that I had a good idea of what was going on.

Chilling unearthly screams chilled my blood and should have given me pause but I started at a run, the image of dead children flashing in my mind.

As I got closer I could hear grunting, The dull thunk I couldn't identify, which was probably a good thing and a cat or maybe a horse hollering in pain. I didn't know what animal that was but I did know that it was dying. For as empty as the pastures were, a sparse scattering of trees here and there with low dividing walls I had yet to see the source of the sounds. Until the last hillcrest.

The scene was gruesome, dead bodies ringed in a pair so it almost looked like a figure eight, the smaller of the rings a horse laid dead in the middle and within the second heavier piled circle was a fighting man.

"No-" I gasped horror widening my eyes. I knew this man. There were a dozen zombie creatures fighting him tooth and nail, striking at him as arrows from three archers peppered him and the area around. He was losing, even with all the dead bodies he had slain, he was losing and from the weakened stance and sluggish attacks he didn't have long.

"MARCUS!"

He turned towards me and an arrow flying over head. Why wasn't he wearing a helmet?!

A pulse of energy radiated over the field, Marcus was thrown backwards as the zombies were evaporated, leaving a hazy mist where they once stood. Further back as the wave traveled towards the archers they seemed rooted to the spot until it hit them. As a unit they dropped their bows and their bodies arched, bent back like the weapons that left their hands. As far as they were I couldn't see what was happening but I could hear their screams. A smell unlike anything I had ever smelled before assaulted my senses, a putrid mixture of rotted food baking in the sun and raw sewage. I gagged on the smell, the taste as it coated over my tongue.

"Marcus-" I wobbled towards the fallen man feeling drunk. That smell was really getting to me but I had to see how Marcus was doing, I refused to think the unthinkable. As crazy as this place as and thus making me crazy, Marcus had been real for me. When I was scared he was the one my dreams turned to and like a father he always had wise council. True it was never wisdom presented to me but I spied and overheard his words to his soldiers and councilmen alike.

Was that a breath?! It was! I picked up my pace and fell to my knees at his side, the sickening squishy sound meeting my knees and soaking through my dress pants. He wore leather dyed a dark drown and under that a mid length sleeve shirt of mail. I watched him breathe relief momentarily blocking all else. It was too short of a moment but I was all the more happy as a throaty groan escaped from Marcus' lips.

"Potion..." He coughed and sputtered the faintest of nods towards the horse.

"What?" I scrambled to my feet, taking little notice of my ruined boots as I searched the landscape for what, I didn't know. It was then I noticed the leather sacks. Of course first aid supplies. It felt foolish for not having thought of it before, rushing to the carcass and pulling everything inside of it out and returning quickly to Marcus' side.

He was more awake and his eyes squinted up at me as I layed an assortment in front of him. He brows quirked in a curious way and he pointed at a thickly wrapped canvas roll. Unwrapping the roll I looked down at the collection of bottles, my brows raising in the same confused question. What did he expect me to do with these fruit punch looking bottles of liquid?

I nodded at me and the bottles and still confused I handed him the largest bottle. Marcus made a move to take it from me but his face twisted in pain and I stilled his hand. "I'll," I'll what? do it for you?

"Drink..." Was all that he managed before he coughed hacking up red flem.

Terrified I pulled the cork and and tipped it into Marcus' mouth, a quarter of it filled his mouth and he drank it, one mouthful after another leaving half the bottle empty. He moved now without wincing and I helped him sit up.

"Thank you." His voice was gravely and he grabbed the bottle from my hands and reached with slowed motions for a scrap of cloth.

I watched, concern etched deep between my brows. "Are you going to be okay?"

Marcus paused what he was doing and stared at me for a long moment, eyes scanning me from my boots to the once perfectly arranged bun. "Yes, I will be." He finally answered.

"Good." I smiled the adrenaline high I was riding crashing all to fragile for all that was happening. "Good..." Fainting as exhaustion took me.

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

The next time I awoke I expected to be back home, or at least on the floor of the bathroom but I wasn't. I was laid out on a roll of thickly stitched quilts with a fire and it's soft light keeping the chill of the night at bay.

"Where are we going?"

"River Fort."

Marcus watched me from the other side of the fire and I felt safe and fell back to sleep.

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

"Lady, wake up." Marcus gently shook my shoulders.

My eyes fluttered open, stretching out my body and yawning back the clinging tendrils of sleep. "What?" My sleep thick voice asked, eyes fighting to stay open.

"We are being followed."

That was enough to wake me up and I jerked to a upright seated position. "Where? When? Who?" My questions were frantic and whispered, my eyes searching for some sign of other people or worse, things.

Marcus chuckled at my failed searching. "We're surrounded by now. About an hour ago. My hope is a ranger scouting party from River Fort." He answer in a clear voice, making no attempt in hushing his words.

"You hope?!" I gawked looking up at him as he mad a motion for me to stand. "And if it isn't."

His answer was to shrug as he took my hand and helped me to my feet.

I narrowed my eyes and glared at the much older warrior. "Really, a shrug."

To which his answer was another shrug, though I was fairly certain I saw a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

 

[EroticLiteracy]

With thundering hooves they rocketed out of the trees. A small scouting party of ten raced towards them wielding a banner with the fish king’s sigil emblazed in gold. The lead man shouted out and they circled the two allowing no means of escape as the commander of the party stepped forward. He took off his helmet revealing a rounded face a boy who looked more afraid than in charge.

“Who goes there?” The commander asked his voice faltering out of a combination of nerves and fear.

MEANWHILE

“You fight well young lord”

Caliban huffed sweat dripping down his bare chest as he took a step back. His two short swords swung in a graceful circle completing their arc at the base of his shoulder blades and the holsters that sat on them. He slid them back into the oiled leather nodding his thanks at the bearded man he now knew as Lord Byron.
“Thank you sir” Caliban said bowing his head in respect. A squire rushed up to them both handing them each a large rag and a water skin.

“You will do well in the coming battles!” Lord Byron said shoving his giant broadsword in the ground as he pushed the rag against his face. Caliban did the same wiping away the sweat as his eyes looked over the training grounds. Lords and men of all shapes and sizes clashed together as they honed their craft. It was a sight to behold as lords and men alike put aside differences to band against the coming threat.

“I doubt I will be on the front line” Caliban remarked unscrewing the cork of the water skin and taking a big gulp. He sighed in relief as the watered-down wine quenched his thirst and mingled with his belly. There was a small buffet style lunch set up in one of the pavilions that he and Byron walked to.

“Has there been any word yet?” Caliban asked glancing at him. He hadn’t held consul with the Fish King since his arrival two weeks ago. After they left he sent word to his father letting him know what was happening and where to send the troops. They came last week merging with the rest of the forces to form what was being called the grand templar army.

“No not yet” Byron said sighing “The dear Fish King holds consul with the ancient ones everyday trying to get an answer. All they will say is that the chosen one is coming.”

“Right” Caliban said sighing “the troops are growing restless. I’ve heard reports that the corrupted are starting to appear and attack the outer villages. Many men will soon want to go and defend their homes.”

“We just hope that the ancient ones reveal the truth soon” Byron said grabbing a wedge of bread from the table and tearing a bite off of it.

Caliban grunted in response and took a sandwich from the platter. He tore into it and turned watching the troops doing battle as he ate. He was just reaching for another battle when a commotion began to make itself known from the left side of the fort. Lord Bryson and he both turned watching as a group began to spill out of the gate.

“What’s going on?” Caliban finally asked stopping a servant who rushed by.

“The scouting party brought back a girl” The servant woman said in excitement “there is talk the chosen one and one of the king’s men were recovered!”

“We must go young Lord!” Bryson said as the servant girl rushed off “The ancient ones may finally have a quest for us!”

Caliban nodded following after the older lord. They raced through the keep quickly climbing up the stone steps that led to the war room. The rest of the lords were already there chatting amongst each other as the Fish King spoke to a new comer.

“Marcus” Bryon said nodding his head at the new comer “A man of the king”

“I see” Caliban said eyeing the new comer with new found respect “What happens now?”

“If he brought back the chosen one then the Ancients will give us a heading” Bryon explained “A quest of some kind usually is given that will turn the tide. The chosen one will help us close the portal and that will be that”

 

[Kismets_Paramour]

I heard the hooves hammering against the earth at a clipped pace before a group of horsemen burst from the trees. I had barely enough time to worry if those zombie creatures or the orc monsters from before could even ride horses when they showed themselves to be human.

As if needing to point out that he was more or less right, Marcus tipped his head towards the cluster of men with their fish banner and raised a brow. The only thing that was missing was the ‘told you so’ smirk.

When did we get so familiar with each other? The Marcus I knew was guarded, closed off and cautious, only joking with his oldest friends and war comrades. Of which I was neither. Then like the dawning of a new day I started to panic, how had I gotten here? Had I phased from Earth to here again, if so how was it that I was still at Marcus’ side. Or was there another explanation, one that involved days and nights that I couldn’t remember? It wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve regained consciousness and there be days missing from my life.

Marcus stepped forward and in front of me as a lead rider demanded identification, taking his helm off. “Well met, I am Ven Commander Marcus, House Steward Emissary of the King.” He introduced himself holding his hand far out to the side showing that he was unarmed and bowed his head, breaking eye contact with the rounded faced boy decades his junior. “This is Lady Viola, my niece.”

He turned his head facing me for the first time since my awful thoughts. I was in the first stages of a full blown panic attack. What if Marcus wasn’t the man I thought him to be, what if his jovial responses to me was because we had shared some intimacy that I couldn’t recall. My eyes widened and my breath raced in short hitched breaths. Gods, I didn’t even know how many days had passed, what had happened to me during those possible days. My eyes darted from Marcus to the forward rider, to the one next to him. What if these men were next and I was to be bartered with and sold!

I wanted to go home, to be screamed at by some pampered snob and go back to my boring set day. To wake up and know each day for what it was, simply the next day. I didn’t want there to be orcs from out of a Tolkien story or zombies from a Walking Dead television show. I just wanted normal and safe.

“Niece?”

Marcus’ voice drew my attention back to him, niece? My brows drew together, confusion plain on my face and the lead rider sensed a change in the air and kicked his horse a step forward.

“Lady?” The boy-man leaned towards me and I shielded away from him etching the concern on his face even deeper. He looked over his shoulder to the man on his right and something passed between them.

“Viola.” Marcus’ tone was deeper, more graveled a tone I took to mean danger or warning. It was a tone I had heard before but never to me. Marcus and all those alike were a dream I watched from afar, like a television show so of course it was never spoken to me.

I blinked slowly, my head trying to wrap itself around the new information, Marcus knew my name. “Y-yes?” The kind look on Marcus’ face was the only thing that kept me root to my spot even while everything in me screamed at me to run. Run where, who cared- back home, away, anywhere but here. Not that I could’ve made it far, there were men on horseback and even in my fittest days there was no way I could outrun a horse, it was impossible.

Taking a slow step towards me, Marcus grasped my hand and squeezed. It wasn’t hard or anything but something jabbed me in the fleshy pad below my thumb. “Are you okay?” He spoke to me like I was a frightened child and I would have taken offence if it wasn’t so close to the truth.

I pulled away and stared down at my hand. A brass colored plate started up at me, the misaligned magnet behind it ruining the perfect beveled edged, rounded corner rectangle. I looked up at Marcus, my hand closing over the warmed metal as my thumb brushed over my engraved name. Our eyes met and he nodded the tiniest of nods, an answer to a question I hadn’t even asked. My lips curled in a tight line and I nodded my head in answer. It was the best I could do when presented with a question I had to lie to answer. Because the truth was I was far from okay.

Taking that as permission, Marcus stepped towards me again and wrapped his closest arm around my shoulders and pulled me into a hug. “We’ve been on the road a great many days,”

A great many days! I stiffened under his arm and Marcus took to petting me from shoulder to elbow over and over. It was effective in curbing my panic and I steadied my breathing one breath at a time.

“In that time we’ve been attacked, our supplies destroyed and our horses killed. You can try and imagine how that might be effect a young woman not of these lands.” Marcus all but scolded in tone and bristled stance and the lead ride pulled back his horse, head bowed in something that looked like shame.

“Please, take my horse. Alfonzo-,’ He waved his hand and a second man, the one to his left dismounted in unison as the one two horses from Alfonzo. “The rest of my men will accompany you back to the River Keep.” The nameless man pulled a bow from the riggings on his saddle and tightened the quiver at his back as Alfonzo mirrored him from the other side of the still mounted man. It was kind of eerie how they moved in sync and I looked away and back to the round face boy-man who seemed to be their leader.

“You have my thanks.” Marcus nodded leading me towards the leader’s horse.

I had never seen a horse up close before, in fact this was the first horse I had ever seen in real life. Wait- was this real life? My hand drifted up to the nearly healed scar that had magically showed up. If this wasn’t some kind of real then I was a special kind of crazy. Maybe the kind that they paid vast amounts of money to just to study and watch. It was an intriguing idea that was disrupted by Marcus’ not so gentle shove. I grunted and glared up at him, annoyance and confusion quirking my brows.

His face was stony as he jutted his chin at the horse.

It was clear that he wanted me to do something so I reached out and petted the horse’s shoulder, my brows arching towards my hairline in my classic sassy teenager look that I hadn’t used in years. Saying look here I am petting your silly horse now what.

We were at a stalemate as I glared at Marcus and he waited on me, his face twitching with annoyance and impatience at each passing second. Then suddenly his face changed and he almost sighed, ducking his head as he offered me a hand.

Again, I didn’t know what he wanted and gave up with petting the horse to stare at his hand near the foot holder thing on the saddle.

Half a second passed before he did sigh, gave up and effortlessly lifted me from the ground to the saddle. Quietly chuckling at my girly squawk.

I wanted to lecture him, how dare he just throw me up on this dangerous animal but as I listed my injustices they became more of an interrogation. How strong was he, I wasn’t a light girl even for my pocket sized height and he performed the action with no visible strain on his end and it was so fluid and far from a toss I had been ready to accuse him of. When he swung up on the saddle behind me I tensed but quickly relaxed when he grabbed the reins, he had no intention of me doing anything but sit there and I was perfectly fine with that.

In spite of my earlier thoughts against Marcus and the man I thought him to be, I felt safe in his presence. Millions of questions still buzzed like an aggravated hornets nest in my head but when it came to Marcus as valid as they had once seemed, they just evaporated.

There were nine people I had visited during my dreams, three of those I had become involved in on a deeper level and Marcus was one of them. He was like the father figure I had always imagined or maybe I imagined because of him. Either way I felt shame fill my stomach with heavy rocks. I couldn't believe I had doubted Marcus and vowed to apologize to him one day when things weren't so absurdly complicated.

As we travelled at a pace that Marcus set I created lists upon lists of questions in the shared silence. In my mind I treated my questions like a triage, color coding them in order of importance (red, orange, yellow, so on and so forth), relativity and then alphabetizing them. I was on code orange in the ‘d’s when the whole slate was wiped clean and I was struck mindless.

“That’s a castle.” My mumbled statement was as articulate as I was going to get. The castle, because I had no other word to call it was built over a river and the whole thing looked like an engineering impossibility.

I didn’t hear Marcus laugh as much as felt it rumble against my back. “No, it’s a fort.” He spoke in my ear. “River Fort, home to the Fish King Lord Maximum.”

Fish King? I had wanted to look up at Marcus, demand answers to my questions but he kicked the horse into a run, in reality it was a fast walk, and I squealed and clung to his arm holding the rein and shut my eyes waiting for the ride to be over.

From the moment the horse stopped everything went by in a blur. There were too many people and they all rushed towards us, questions dancing in their eyes.

Marcus gracefully dismounted and pulled me after him a second later, his presence keeping the growing mass from coming closer. One of the men from the group had also dismounted and ran off towards the castle- Fort, I reminded myself. It became painfully obvious that I didn’t belong here, this was a place for soldiers. Nearly everyone wore armor be it metal, leather or a mixture of both and those that didn’t wore rough spun cotton plaindress as they went along with their work. And then there was me. In a business pant suit covered in grime and guts, which at least seemed to blend in.

“I have questions.” I whispered from under Marcus’ protective half hug.

He grunted and led us in the same direction as the running man from our group. “You aren’t the only one.”

I eyed him, what questions could he possibly have? “Does this place even have indoor plumbing? I’d kill for a bath.”

Marcus’ steps faltered and he peered down at me as we walked under a HUGE, by my standards, gated wall that made a tunnel thing before reopening into a smaller courtyard. “There is no need to kill for a bath.” His tone was strange and I looked up at him seeing a look on his face that I wasn’t familiar with. It wasn’t fear, I had seen that only once but that dream had been haunting. Nor was it anger. Maybe leery? Whatever it was turned his face into the man I knew him to be, guarded if only for a moment before he resumed his perfectly timed strides.

“So is that a yes?” I pushed wanting an answer to something even if it was as small as a bath.

Shrug.

I was beginning to hate that shrug.

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

In the end I got my bath and a new set of clothing. I even managed to wash my hair and tame it back into its immaculate bun before the water got cold. And as happy as I was with my bath, the subtle soaps and hot water, I left the bathroom, for lack of better word, with a frown on my face.

“Did the bath not please you?” Marcus asked pushing off the wall from where I had left him. “Is there killing to be had?” He teased trying to get me to smile.

I squinted my eyes and growled. “I’m in a dress.” The only things I had saved from my soiled outfit had been my bra and panties and booties.

“Do you not like it?”

For a dress it wasn’t horrible. It was a relaxed fit made of a velvet, perhaps?, in a dark blue with a simple scoop neckline, long sleeves and a hemline that dragged on the ground a quarter of an inch too long. The only accent it had was a wavy hand sewn boarder in a pale blue that lined all the edges. But it was still a dress and the last time I had worn a dress had been at a funeral, two funerals in the same day. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest hastily pushed the memory far from thought. “It’s a dress.”

Marcus’ eyes grew harder as he scanned me from head to toe. “Is that not a thing a Lady wears?”

“It-“ I signed and my shoulders dropped as I gave us. “Yeah.” I moaned, repeating my answer with a yes when Marcus continued to stare.

With a single shake of his head Marcus led the way down the darkened hall. I had no idea where we were going and prophesied no answer to any of my question should I ask them. So I trudged along, pulling up my dress as I went, ignoring the looks I was still getting for those around. Word got around fast.

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

“Keep Her safe.”

“Keep Her secret.”

“Keep Her live.”

“Far from the Father!”

“Death in danger.”

“Death in knowledge.”

“Death to all.”

An Ancient rasped in song like cadence, rocking back and forth as its frail parchment covered arms hugged itself in failed comfort. The visions were unlike those before and he knew that this was different. So alike and yet… There were too many variables, too many paths. Eyes dry and sandy opened to a dark chamber lit by a handful of low burnt candles. His breath hissed from between parched lips, tongue cracked with time licked them to no avail. He, the He, Father, The One… He knew she was here but couldn’t see Her. He, the He, Father, The One- he mustn’t see Her, couldn’t see Her. It would all end but not before the unraveling. The Ancient shuddered at that possibility. She had to be hidden but there, known and unknown, loved and because she would be loved she would be hated.

Joints cracked and popped and his legs shook with the effort it took to stand unassisted. This changed everything and nothing. All must continue but nothing like before. Another vision glazed over the Ancient’s eyes but it was abrupt and as crippled in imagery as he was but it left behind and deep seeded dread. It left him weary, cold to the bone and worried. There wasn’t enough to See, hadn’t Seen enough to keep the feeling at bay. That moment, the possibility was one to come, he just knew it in the pit of his stomach and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

 

[EroticLiteracy]

“Order Order!”

Caliban sunk further into the crowd of lord and ladies representing the grand inquisition. The gathering of power in the room was impressive so much more than anything he ever experienced at his father’s court. There were lords here from such distant lands on the continent that they might as well have been in the isles! While others he knew of but never had the privilege of standing with. Curious enough some of them even brought what looked like friends and mercenaries from the isles. He recognized them via the exotic armor they wore and the curved blades and shuriken’s that adorned their bodies. He felt better for having them here having been graced with the intimate knowledge in his own training of how deadly they could be.

“I said shut it you cock heads!” The Fish King roared his long wet black hair shaking back and forth as he paced at the head of the large gathering. Caliban hadn’t spoken to the man since his arrival a few weeks ago. There was something he disliked about him something he couldn’t place but made him feel uneasy all the same. Caliban thought perhaps it was because he was always skulking. He had the look of a man with an agenda and whether that agenda was good or bad was unknown. The other lords (at least those that weren’t friends with him) tended to agree.

“I don’t know about you lot!” The Fisk King shouted his tone angry “But I’m getting tired of waiting for those creepy beasts to tell us to move! I’m getting more and more reports from the surrounding area about tainted forces attacking homes! Our scouting parties can only do so much without our combined army”

Caliban heard the general murmur of agreement and couldn’t help but nod. He didn’t like the Fish King but he knew what the older lord was talking about. So far there was no word on where their standing army would march to. The ancients were either biding their time for the “chosen one” to come or were being coy for reasons he didn’t know. Meanwhile reports and refugees were beginning to flood into the area seeking security from the tainted. Families were being destroyed and the army was growing restless. Many of the troops were from the surrounding area and wanted to go help their families. It was becoming something of a boiling kettle and the risk of it exploding grew more and more each day.

“What do you think?” Caliban asked turning to Lord Byron.

“He certainly loves to hear him talk” The older lord answered ignoring the Fish Kings rant and turning to Caliban “But I’m less than convinced. The ancients have always guided us in combating the taint. I see no reason to go off without them”

“From what I understand it’s never taken this long” Caliban reminded him with a frown “I don’t like the Fish King but there is some wisdom to his words”

“The falling can only be destroyed by the chosen” Bryon said his tone patient “I understand people want to go protect their homes but in order for the threat to be stopped we need the chosen”

Caliban sighed and nodded taking the older man’s council. He trusted Byron much more than he trusted the Fish King. If the best course of action was to wait then he would wait. His lands were far removed from the current fighting areas and so his forces were content right now. He made a mental note to send a raven to his father stating what was happening and asking for his advice.

Caliban pushed through the crowd leaving as the Fish King continued to rant at the assembled lords and ladies. He stepped out into the outer halls and moved running a hand through his hair and trying to keep his nerves down. His hands twitched and he idly wished he was carrying his two swords. He was sensitive to the change in the fortress the tension and nerves everyone was beginning to carry. The joy of seeing so many armies assembled was quickly leaving, replaced instead by fear as more and more refugee flowed into the fort.

“Perhaps a feast” Caliban murmured stopping at one of the windows and looking out over the river. His eyes watched the refugee on the river side for a few minutes in concern and sympathy. Finally he moved turning on his heel and stepping forward.

SMACK

Caliban stumbled back realizing to late that he ran into someone. His quick nimble hands shot out grabbing the persons hip and preventing them from falling back. His hands brushed against soft lace and he blushed realizing the person he ran into was a female. His eyes swept up and down her taking her in as red colored his cheeks. His eyes widened ever so slightly just enough for her to see the attraction in his eyes.

“Excuse me my lady” He said stepping back and giving a small bow “I wasn’t paying attention”

He paused clearing his throat before reaching out and offering his hand.

“My name is Lord Caliban Eastwick” He said offering her his hand “I don’t believe I have seen you around here before. Where do you hail from my lady?”

 

[Kismets_Paramour]

As I lagged behind Marcus, down wide stone halls, I picked at one of the seams from the bundle of my old clothes soiled and ruined unsure of what I was supposed to do with them. Marcus hadn't said anything and I was taking all my cues from him.

"Ummm, Marcus?"

"Umm is not a word." He gruffed without stopping or even turning his head.

I sighed and quickened my pace so I was at his side instead of following behind like some puppy. "Fine." I agreed knowing that whether it was a word or not I was going to keep using the non-word word. "I just thought you might have some idea as to what I should do with these?" I clarified holding up my work outfit. The only thing that I kept had been my ivory satin and lace trimmed matching bra and panties and the boots. Everything else I crumpled and folded into a messed ball.

Concern washed over Marcus' face and I could see him think it over. I personally didn't know what required such a stern face but after a moment he nodded to himself and grabbed the bundle from me. In a few strides he came upon a middle aged woman and handed the bundle to her. "Burn these with haste."

"BURN THEM!" My mouth hung open, sure that in the next passing moment Marcus would share a laugh with me. But the second came and gone, and then another and another before it became clear that this wasn't a joke.

Turning on me Marcus hid his thoughts behind that facial mask he was always wearing. "They are soaked in taint,' At that the woman who now held the bundle pushed it from her body holding it as far from herself as possible. "Unwashable and cleansed only by fire. You can, of course, wash the garments yourself, continue wearing them and in time whittle down into a Corrupt." He smiled but it was far from kind. "Your pick My Lady."

The corrupt I guessed was the zombie things from days ago and I imagined myself turning into one of those creatures and shuttered. "Burn them." I sighed looking for the woman who was already gone and far from sight. It seemed there wasn't really a choice and I mourned my favorite pant suit and camisole. Silver lining, I was wearing my undergarments so they would be safe. But was I safe from them? They hadn't been marred by the yuck that had covered the outer layers but I didn't know the science of what turned you into a corrupt.

Marcus didn't feel the same need to mourn my clothing and continued on his way.

The deeper into the castle we got the more crowed the halls became and when we were in what felt like the middle we reached a people jam. As short as I was there was no amount of tip toeing around the people ahead of me to see what was going on. Looking up and following the lines of the ceiling and the echoed voices I knew there had to be a large room at the end of this hall.

I tried pushing my way ahead, eager to see what the raised voice was shouting about but no one gave way to me. Behind me I heard a familiar chuckle and snapped my head around to catch the tail end of a smile from Marcus.

'Then you try.' I silently challenged waving my hand in front of me with a sassy smirk on my face.

Marcus stared me down and I squared my shoulders and stood tall. For about ten seconds before wilting. He may not have been the tallest man but he was intimating and I stuck my tongue out at him like the child I was sure he thought I was.

I’m sure it had nothing to do with me but Marcus strolled ahead without a care in the world, politely nudging a man in front of him out of his way. The man, not as old as Marcus but years my senior did a double take at Duncan and abrupt tapped the shoulder of the man in front of him and pointed his chin towards Marcus. Like a ripple in a pond heads turned and Marcus’ way parted like the seas. If I was anyone else I would have missed the tiny lift at the corner of his mouth, but I wasn’t. This man had been part of my dreams for years and I pruned my lips together stubbornly keeping to the wall and refusing to make use of the space Marcus was carving in the crowd.

We were nearly at the doors, Marcus keeping pace with me even though half the time he couldn’t possibly see me. It was during one of the rare breaks in the crowd that gave view of Marcus, I was watching him and trying to mimic the way he walked and commanded the hall and his space. It wasn’t working on my end but it looked so easy, the way people just-

“Oww-“ I sucked in my breath and tried to counterbalance the force that just slammed into me and failed. I had my eyes squeezed shut ready for the impact of me hitting the floor and slowly reopened them when I hung there suspended by a set of strong hands on my hips. Curious I peeked out from first one eye, Marcus moved fast- Expect it wasn’t Marcus and my eyes flew open and my body tensed as I looked up at the face of a stranger. But it wasn’t a stranger’s face… My mind spun and tangled as it tried to fit the fact to a memory succeeding in only creating a mess, a handsome blue eyed- wait what had been my thought before?

There was a look on the stranger’s face, a look I didn’t like as I couldn’t name that wide eyed look but paired with a cute blush on his stubbled cheeks that left me confused and jittery. His hands left my hips and I actually had to stop myself from reaching out and leading his hands back to my hips. I would have loved to say it was my own doing that stopped myself from doing something so foolish but it was his voice. I knew that voice! And all at once it fell into place.

Oh my god!

This couldn’t be. No. A tiny voice in the back of my mind pointed out that if Marcus and this world I had often dreamed of could be real then so could be.

Nope.

I was in denial even as my heart took off at a gallop and threatened to beat right out of my chest. Blood rushed to my head and I felt dizzy, my stomach knotted and I felt sick and wind chimes sang love ballads in the background.

His hand extended towards me and I froze. Everything but my mouth froze as the stupidest thing ever came blubbering out of my idiotic slackjaw. “My Caliban of the Isles is a Lord!?”

Great first impression Viola.

 

[EroticLiteracy]

Caliban wasn’t faring much better.

The woman… there was something so familiar about her even though he knew he had never seen her before. His golden hair shook as his emerald eyes swept across her once more. He felt a tightening in his gut something that went past simple butterflies and seeing a pretty girl. He felt the hairs on his arm raise up and was suddenly very aware of how close they were together.

And how close he WANTED to be to her.

The girl said something and the mystery deeper. She named him but not only did she name him but she said he was hers and mentioned where he spent most of his life. Those words only made Caliban surer that they knew each other somehow. The question on his lip however was where? Again he would surely remember meeting such a captivating woman!

“You must forgive me my lady” Caliban said recovering and bowing his head down “I’m afraid I am confused… You said your Caliban? Do I know you? You seem familiar but surely a woman of your beauty I would remember meeting!”

His eyes flickered to her companion taking him in and realizing who it was. Marcus the kings man who was widely respected and known for his battle prowess. Caliban recalled seeing him fight a few years ago at a tournament he went to with his father while back from the Ile. His mind ran through the fight remembering Marcus and his specific abilities. He was something of a living legend in the continent a great warrior that made Caliban feel any safer.

“Lord Marcus” The young tan lord said with a slight bow of his head “I am glad to see you. We have never met but I am Lord Eastwick’s kid. I once had the pleasure of seeing you participate in a tournament and I speak for everyone in the river fort when I say it makes me feel safer to have those skills with us”

He nodded and turned back to the captivating strange woman who was with Marcus. His eyes ran up and down her once more again trying to place her. He bit his full bottom lip in frustration unable to place where they once met. He finally huffed and gave up disregarding it for now and focusing on the present with her.

“What did you mean by your words my lady?” Caliban asked blushing a bit as he noticed Marcus was still standing by her. Where they together? He didn’t know Marcus dated such young women but it was possible!

 

[Kismets_Paramour]

My heart fluttered at the sound of his voice and my cheeked flamed red. It was too much. Surely I hadn’t called him mine! But the ten second, really was that all the time that had passed because it felt like eons, replayed and sure as the rain fell from the sky I had said My Caliban. And then to have him call me a beauty.

For all that I had convinced myself that this place was real, Caliban calling me a beauty set it all back. This was once again just a dream because there was no world that I was considered beautiful. On one hand that made me fell sane and eased the tension of my brain. Yet another, larger more driven part of my mind and heart, mourned all that could have been from this world and it’s people.

“I-“ I sputtered the faint red upon my cheeks fanning crimson. Real or not I still couldn’t form a sentence in fear of what stupid thing out come out of my mouth next. I needed an exit, an escape or at the very least some assistance.

“Viola.”

I love you! My eyes shined turning towards the voice and the guarded face of Marcus. I smiled and silently pleaded for help.

Caliban spoke again and like some love struck puppy and faced him again, captivated by the man I hadn’t seen in years. So much had changed about him but they were all little things. His skin was a deeper golden tan, his hair longer and his cheeks and chin sported the beginnings of a beard. It only enhanced his devilish charm and my whole being quivered to know the feeling of that scruff scraping along my lips as I trailed kisses from his jawline to his-

I shook my head driving from my mind what was sure to turn into a smutty romance novel scene.

He knew Marcus and I could see from the corner of my sight, which was all the view I afforded Marcus as Caliban had nearly all my attention. Right now I was watching the way his lips formed words and imagining-

SERIOUSLY!

I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. Not even a handful of minutes had passed and already I had twice pictured ripping Caliban’s clothing off, my hands lightly skimming what I knew would be perfectly form and well tone muscles. Learning the lines of his body with hands, lips, teeth and – Okay three times… I was worse than a cat in heat!

Refocusing on the conversation between the two men I caught the tail end of Marcus thanking Caliban for something and bushing off the Lord title. The guarded face now weighted with a new mask and emotion. It was the face he wore when evaluating new warriors and their possible potential. “Erendale Eastwick is a great stagiest and warrior. If you have half the mind and talent as your father you’ll be a mighty warrior indeed.” He looked upon the young lord once more and nodded his head. “Come see me in the morning.” It was as much an offer as it was a challenge and Marcus smiled eyes sliding between me and Caliban once more.

“Your words?” Marcus echoed his eyes traveling between us again, a brow raised in waiting.

My blush matched Caliban’s and I looked away from both men trying to gather my wits about me. “I believe as first introductions go we’re both a little confused.” I grinned rocking back on my heels as I met Caliban’s eyes. Their sky blue were just as I remembered and I felt as if I could stare at them for all of entirety. As the silence ran on Marcus cleared his throat and I laughed nervously and broke eye contact settling my eyes lower and to the side, his shoulder hoping it was less captivating. “I hail from far, far, far away.” I said vaguely shrugging my shoulders as if to brush off the lack of more specific locations. “In fact I’ve just arrived, having never been here before in my life.” Which wasn’t so much a lie I convinced myself as I was still torn over wither this was a dream or not. “So it’s impossible that we’ve met.” Well that you’ve met me, as I remember you.

I thought back to the last memory I had of Caliban and winced. I had loved him, he was the first boy to capture my heart and I had yet to find someone worthy to give it to since. The last time I saw him had broken my heart into a million pieces. I had watched him all my life, growing with him and being there by his side as he was sent off to the islands. Like a pathetic stalker I felt in love and when I was sixteen I watched Caliban as he kissed a mocha skinned goddess on the beach as the sunset. It was a perfect moment, romantic and straight out of a fairytale and I hated it. I felt like something had been stolen from me, his first kiss and it felt stupid but I cried for days unable to tell my fathers what was bring on my tears. I didn’t want them to think I was crazy and send me back or lock me up. So I had poured all my heartache and sorrow into dance until I was welcomed back into the folds of agony and displaced once more.

I took a turn to clear my throat pushing the memory and the way he held that girl to him far from my mind. Picking and choosing what questions to answer I braved meeting Caliban’s eyes again, the shadows of that painful memory warring with my pleasure at seeing him real or as real as I believed him to be, before me. Here I was real to him, just as real as he was for me and it was strange for me. I had always been a ghost, a spirit something never seen, felt or known so being been, having felt him was all new for me. Funny how I had picture this moment in my dreams over and over and never was I so tongue tied, neurotic or inane!

“As Marcus has said, my name is Viola. Viola Sung-Locke.” I gave no title because I had none and offered no parentage because for most of my life I had been a ward save the few years I was a true Sung-Locke daughter. Also I had no idea how this place viewed same sex marriage and I wasn’t about to test that acceptability on my first introduction. “As much of a pleasure as this meeting has been,” I let my words hang there as I extended my hand out to Caliban realizing that I hadn’t take his when offered. “I believe Marcus was on his way to speak with the Lord Maximum.” It was as close to a farewell as I could manage, I didn’t want to leave Caliban’s side but I had to. Staying would only make his opinion of my drop drastically when he realized how many ways to crazy I was.

Marcus on my other side stepped forward and held his arm up. Parting Caliban with one finial smile I took Marcus’ arm and clung to it for dear life. I felt suddenly weak and rapid beatings of my heart was starting to give me chest pains. “Thank you.” I whispered so only Marcus could hear once we were far enough away from Caliban that I didn’t worry he could hear.

His answer was to lay his hand over my arm and pat me gently a few times as he guided me through the crowd and into the vast room where a man with greasy black hair ranted and shouted. “Lord Maximum.”

I could barely hear his direction over the yelling and collective mutters and grunts. So that was the Fish King? He didn’t look as much of a King as he did the slimy undercutting sidekick that went evil. A harsh judgment on a man I had yet to meet but he gave off an inky vibe that made me want to take another bath.

As the Fish King’s eyes swept past us and quickly return, Marcus stopped and untangled my arm from his. He didn’t take a step away from me like I feared he would but I hold the detachment personally and tried to not let it show on my face. Lifting my chin slightly to look more Lady like and regal, not that I was sure how to pull either of those off convincingly.

“Lord Maximum.” Marcus bowed, the movement formal and I mirrored his movement with a curtsy of my own. The only curtsy I had ever done had been taught to me as part of the Cinderella theater dance production in my second year and I anxiously hoped it didn’t draw too much attention to the fact that I had no idea what I was doing. I was blindly following Marcus and when he straightened up, so did I, shedding my regale appearance to duck my head and pray to be ignored.

 

[EroticLiteracy]

It didnt take long for the news to spread through the castle. The fish king was under the impression that Marcus being one of the kings men would have some sort of clout or information about where the army was to go. Word was he didnt and that he politely told the Fish King that the best thing to do would be to wait and see what the ancient ones had to say.

He didnt like that one bit.

Caliban heard later in the dining hall that after trashing his own room the Fish King gathered all the lords loyal to him for a secret meeting. The tension in the castle was growing more and more with each passing minute since then. Whatever was said in there Caliban or his friend Lord Byron were not privy to.

Caliban sensed something bad was about to happen. It wasnt just the tension but the winds were changing as well. As he walked through the halls of the river fort he was reminded of what his mentor The Blind said during training.

"Trust in nature young lordling and whenever lost look for answer around you. Nature never lies"

Caliban felt a shiver run across his spine and reached up to check on his hooked swords. He lightly touched the leather wrapped handle taking comfort in it as he moved towards the meeting room. He had taken to dressing for battle everyday since the Fish King had his secret meeting. He also took the precaution of having his fathers army move slightly away from the rest. If there was going to be a betrayal or coup he had no intention of letting them die while he ran off.

He reached the heavy oak doors and gently pushed them open. A fresh round of talking hit him as he joined the other lords in their own private meeting. There was no doubt that word wouldn't reach the Fish King but since there wasn't technically any law against them meeting without him in his own home there wasn't much he could do about it.

"Thats everyone" Lord Byron said from the front of the table "we can call the meeting to order"

Caliban moved over to stand to the left of Lord Byron and took stock of the room. There was still quiet a few Lords allied to the ancient ones and the order itself. Caliban felt a slight bit of relief at that. If there was going to be a civil war on top of the ultimate war it looked like they had the numbers on their side.

His eyes widened ever so slightly when he noticed Marcus in attendance with the mysterious girl he ran into a few days ago. A bit of red colored his cheek as he remembered their initial meeting and the attraction he felt to her. When he wasn't thinking of the coming war he found his thoughts drifting to her. He would be lying if he said he wasn't interested in her! As lord Byron began to speak Caliban found himself paying less attention to him and more attention to the lovely and mysterious Viola.

 

[Kismets_Paramour]

As the King’s envoy and Ven Commander, Marcus and I had been granted a private suite to stay in. It had been thrown at us at the closing of our short meeting.

‘A good thing.’ Marcus thought, because there were somethings that he couldn’t easily explain in a camp setting.

I don’t know how Marcus felt, but I left the brief introduction with the Fish King feeling shaken. There was an anger within him that I didn’t quite understand. Completely out of touch with what was going on I shielded myself behind Marcus and tried to draw as little attention to myself as possible. Until I was pointed at and from it sprouted a whole new discussion about a chosen one, which sounded very Buffy-like to me, and another tantrum thrown by the Fish King when he didn’t get the answer that he wanted. Apparently the answer was something ancient, like that somehow made any sense!

“It’s clear.” Marcus called from inside the room.

Shaking my head I moved from the hall through the large heavy oak doors to a smaller room. Marcus stood next to a fireplace with a grim look on his face, passing by me to close and bar the door to the hall. Bar the door? I looked around the room and my eyes spotted another door, smaller than the hall door but made of the same wood.

“Master bedroom, a small barrier hall and a secondary room with another door leading to the hall. It’s already been closed and secured.”

I took a deep breath and tried to smile. I was nervous and it wasn’t because I was in a room alone with a man that was more or less a stranger but because I knew he had questions that I wasn’t sure I could answer. “So…” I chuckled licking dry lips as I rocked back and forth on my heels.

“Let’s talk.”

I’m sure Marcus hadn’t meant for that to sound so menacing but that’s how I heard it and my breath hitched in my chest and came out it gulps.

- - - - - - - - -

It was one of the longest nights of my life and not nearly as scary as I thought because it was worse. If I had it right I was in some other land called Arlethian, with a King who was old and about to die which had its own set of problems. A ruling of some sort called the Ancients who called an Order because an evil had returned to threaten their way of life. An unstoppable evil with a massive army of creatures and monsters with only one weakness. A person called The Chosen One. Me. And if that wasn’t bad enough I phase out of existence when I fall asleep. Which scared the hell out of Marcus the first night I did it to him, once second I was on the other side of the fire the next second I was gone. The poor man had searched all night and morning for me and kept searching until he passed out. When he woke up I was suddenly there as if nothing had happened with no sight as to how I had traveled all those miles between where he had last seen me to that point. The second time I did it, he had been prepared and waited me out and then like magic I was back. I continued to do this to him for the next four nights.

I recall none of this. Last I remembered I had gone to the bathroom at work and passed out from a nose bleed. And maybe a cold. So where I was mentally or physically while these four days went on, I had no idea and honestly it scare the living shit out of me.

“Okay.” I repeated for the hundredth resting my forehead in my hands, my elbows braced on the small round table opposite the fireplace in the sitting room. Marcus sat in the other chair his face drawn with dark circles under his eyes. “So you’re sure I’m this Chosen person?” This wasn’t the first time I asked the question and after so many times of answering Marcus just looked at me without saying anything. “And I have to kill a god monster. Right.” I gulped in some air. “And this isn’t a dream because I’ve already pinched myself.”

“I still don’t understand how pinching yourself makes a reality real or not.” Marcus interrupted, his voice gravelly with exhaustion.

I felt for the guy, if I got it right he had carried me all four days and I wasn’t tiny by any measure save height. “I’m not too sure either but it’s something that we do where I’m from.” Where I’m from. I still wasn’t used to saying that and it gave me the creeps saying it aloud.

Pushing back from the table Marcus stood up and reached high over his head a yawn twisting his face with harsh deep lines. “We’re just talking circles now. We both need to sleep and we’ll pick this up in a few hours when the sun is up.”

I nodded, yawning because he had. “Sounds like a plan.” I shouldn’t have been sleepy, all it sounded like I did the last four days was sleep and disappear, but I was and when I stood up Marcus had to catch me as my leg gave out. My foot was asleep and I sheepishly smiled up at Marcus as I tried to wiggle life back into it. Intent to go to bed, Marcus scooped me up in his arms as if I weighed no more than a bag of potatoes, and carried into the large room and the bed. Being Marcus’ guest aka tag along, I figured I would get the smaller of the two rooms but he gently placed on the larger then a king sized bed and tucked me in. I mumbled a good night but before the words fell from my lips I was asleep.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

I was getting used to waking up cold but naked was new for me. Well not naked but in my cream lace and satin bra and panties. The setting was also new. It seemed I was in a hospital, with a room full of empty beds. Why was I on the floor in the middle of the room?

A nurse walked past my room and glanced my way and screamed.

Well that was a confidence booster. Scrambling I grabbed for the nearest blanket and wrapped it around myself as an army of people in scrubs came to the screaming nurse’s aide. That’s when they saw me and a whole new tempo kicked into place as a doctor was paged, nurses got me into bed and people poked and prodded me, shining lights in my eyes and asking me questions.

Turns out I had been in a coma for a bit but then I disappeared and they had tried to find me but there was no evidence of me leaving, not on the security cameras and none of the nurses had seen we leave and there was a nurse station just outside my door. I kept them on their feet as I reappeared, one of the other patients in the room claiming I just appeared out of thin air. I stuck around for a few hours then once the medical staff looked away I was gone. Each time I left without a sign and reappeared still in a coma like stage. They had hooked me up to wires and tubes and such but everything came back normal and after the second day their cleared out the room.

I didn’t know how to answer any of their questions so I went with silent confusion, which wasn’t that hard. After a bit they left me alone, promising food and that they would contact my boss. Hours later with no reason to keep me I was released. But not before I requested every kind of preventive vaccine I could think of. Just in case. My boss was there to drive me home where he told I could take as much time as I needed off and that my job would still be there when I got home.

The rest of the day I spent googling Arlethian, coming up with nothing. At a loss I took a long hot shower, dressed in my favorite silky blue pinstriped panties and matching bra a Poison back shirt and blue jeans. I was starving and nothing in my fridge sounded good and the only thing I could get my stomach to not gag at was pizza.

Grabbing my car keys and about to grab my should bag an arm reached out from the dark corner of the wall, a scratchy but firm voice calling out to me as bony fingers locked around my wrist.

“Not safe…” The body less voice echoed roughly pulling me into the wall.

It was pointless to fight, I did but it didn’t stop the arm from gaining the advantage as it pulled me into the wall and swallowing darkness.

- - - - - - - -

I felt like Alice in Wonderland falling though the rabbit hole, minus the acid trip colors. In my version there was only darkness, receded by a single candle illuminating a hooded figure.

“Keep Her safe.”

“Keep Her secret.”

“Keep Her live.”

“Far from the Father!”

“Death in danger.”

“Death in knowledge.”

“Death to all.”

He chanted, his grip on my wrist bruising. I cried out in pain as his voice grew repeating the chant until at last he released my wrist and I fell once again into the darkness, lost.

- - - - - - - - - - -

“Viola!” Marcus’ shout was a surprised as I ever heard them.

What surprised me was the sword at my throat. Marcus’ sword. “Marcus?” I was dizzy and the last thing I wanted was to fall on Marcus’ sword because my knees gave out.

Blinking rapidly Marcus sheathed his sword and made a move as if to grab me but rethought it at the last moment. “Hurry and change, there’s a meeting.” He nodded with his chin towards the bed where my dress from before was laid out. “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”

I had questions, so many more questions but I understood now was not the time and quickly threw on the dress and redid my hair in its famous high bun. This time I was without shoes and slipped my feet into the wooly slippers I had seen other women wear, trying the hemp feeling laces quickly as I rushed from the room.

“You’ve been gone a full day.” Marcus informed me under his breath, his tone tinted with accusation.

I glared at him as I struggled to catch up. “You know it’s not like I have a choice in this.” I whispered back feeling defensive due to his tone.

Marcus drew his brows together measuring my words. “The Fish King had held a secret meeting and it seemed he is pulling those loyal to him from the main army.” He continued apparently finding my words to be true.

“So?” I didn’t see how that mattered or what the meant. “I mean what’ll he do, go fight the monsters on his own? I don’t see what the problem is.”

At that Marcus stopped and looked around before saying any more. “The Ancients have always directed the battle plans, lead us to the Chosen One and swayed the war in our favor. Some say that the war can’t be won without the Ancients and the Chosen One. Others…” He let his words hang to be filled with troubling thoughts of my own.

He started walking again and I just stood there wonder what that meant for me or if it even affected me. Marcus turned down a hall and I had to run to catch up and by then he was standing at a set of doors waiting for me.

All eyes turned to Marcus when he walked in and I retreated behind him unsure of what my purpose was.

“Lady Viola, a pleasure to meet you. I was sorry to hear that you took ill so soon after your arrival.”

I felt ambushed and I stared at Marcus for some hint at what to do, should I be alarmed, run or just say hi. His lack of concern both annoyed and relieved me.

“Niece, may I introduce Lord Fintan.”

“Ven Commander Marcus, Lady Viola.”Fintan bowed low, his mop of curly red hair shadowing over his face.

At a pointed looked from Marcus I spoke up. “Thank you Lord Fintan. Yes my journey was long and it took me a moment to get my breath back.” From my peripheral vision I swore I saw Marcus shake his and maybe even roll his eyes. I didn’t know what to say to a Lord, from another land!

Lord Fintan didn’t seem to mind his smile turning flirtatious. “Just Fintan, please.” He grinned offering his arm. He would have been a roguishly handsome man by any standard but all I saw was a man in his late thirties, early forties with red curly hair. “Mayhap after our secretive meeting you would take the air with me?”

“Are we not taking air right now?” I puzzled wondering if he was making a play on words because of my earlier breath comment.

Fintan outright laughed, tipping his head back as the laughter overtook him gathering what attention had waned at their arrival once more. “You are a gem, witty and mesmeric, if I may be so bold.”

Unsure of how to take the compliment or the laughter I could only smile and bow my head.

“Viola.”

Looking up I beamed at Marcus and stepped closer to his side, taking his arm as he offered it. Grateful for the rescue.

“Lord Fintan.” Marcus bowed his head in Fintan’s direction and the Lord did the same, rising to take my hand and kiss the back.

Holding my gaze Lord Fintan smiled and his lips lingered at my hand. “It has truly been a pleasure Lady Viola. We must meet again.” He stressed the word ‘must’ and bowed once more to me before leaving and rejoining his party of men.

I wanted to say something about how awkward that had been but it was then that I noticed Caliban. Having been caught up with Lord Fintan I hadn’t noticed Caliban arrive, or was he already here when I got here?

Feeling me tense at his side, Marcus glanced down, following my gaze once he assured himself I was fine.

Another man called the beginning of the meeting and I started at the loud voice. Bodies huddled closer to the table and Marcus shifted us over, towards Caliban! He was still across the table but they were just two people over from being directly across from each other. It was perfect because from where I stood I could pretend to watch the man who looked to be in charge while still being able to see Caliban out of the corner of my eyes. Breathless I shuffled forward and trailed the tips of my fingers over the edge of the table. How was it possible that he looked even more handsome today!

I sighed, my head tilting to the side slightly catching Marcus’ attention again. Noticing him take notice of me I blushed a rosy pink, I cleared my throat quietly and pretended to pay more attention to what was happening. As many horrible scenarios that I created in my head that involved my death, not that I was involved because no one knew who I was. I still didn’t understand why one guy with his friends and all their armies fighting against the bad guys was a bad thing. I mean wasn’t the whole point to fight the bad guys and win? In my head it just made more sense to join up with the Fish King and get this war over with.

That was as far as I got before I lost interest and found myself glancing at Caliban from under my lashes starting to feel all jittery and flushed.

 

[EroticLiteracy]

Lord Byron was the one who called the meeting and he continued to talk as Caliban allowed himself the distraction at eyeing the mysterious alluring woman he knew as Viola. He knew it was bad of him to allow a woman to distract him so much from an important meeting but he couldn’t stop himself. His eyes lingered on her and even when he tried to look away he found his eyes inching back to her before she took up his sight once more.

He shifted unconsciously giving her a better view of his body. He was relieved he was wearing some of his better clothes. The shirt and pants he were wearing were made to fit like armor and show cased his powerful and lean body. He puffed his chest out just a bit more doing his best to make it look natural instead of a shameless attempt to grab more of her interest.

Which was what it REALLY was.

“His mad battle lust threatens all of us!” Lord Bryon shouted slamming his fist against the table “We need to be ready to act if it comes to it!”

Caliban heard the others nodding in agreement and with a sigh tore himself back into the present. He nodded as well showing everyone that he not only agreed but was ready to move if needed. They conversations continued and he took every chance during the hour they met to look at her.

When they finally called for the meeting to end he started making a b line right towards her. He would have to if not for Lord Byron pulling him aside to meet some of his followers. Caliban had to bite back his growl of frustration and instead allowed the older lord to “do him a favor” and introduce him to important contacts he might one-day need.

 

[Kismets_Paramour]

At times Marcus spoke up and the first time I took in everything he said but its context was lost on me and then again the second time, well… I wish I could have claimed that I listened just as closely but I didn’t. He mentioned the lesser lord, those who’s seats had been created after the last Falling and how they had not been oath bound to the cause. Something about…

Caliban moved and I sucked in a breath, captivated by the flex of his muscles. The cords straining at his arms and the ripple of his chest as he took in each deep breath. I was memorized and found myself keeping pace with his breathing, something I hadn’t put thought into doing but did nevertheless.

I tried to keep my glances and stares camouflaged by letting my eyes wander the room, pausing here and there as if I was interested in this or that. But within seconds I was back at Caliban, my eyes trailing from his hips, the lowest part of him that I could see before the table concealed the rest of him from sight, to his flat stomach. I was sure there would be muscles carved there if only this shirt wasn’t there, would be have a six pack with one of those delicious ‘v’ that cut towards his hips?

Lost I licked my lips and fantasied about tracing every muscled inch of him with my hand, lips, tongue and… Nope! I rapidly blinked my eyes and had to clear my mind of those warm tingling x-rated thoughts. I was horrible and instantly felt ashamed. I didn’t want to be one of those girls that lusted after a complete stranger and pictured that someone naked each time they walked into a room.

But he wasn’t a complete stranger… I tried to rationalize to make myself feel better. Yeah, I was even worse. I was Casper the Friendly Stalker.

Oh to be able to claim I stuck to the high road from that point on. But I didn’t, I couldn’t. I wasn’t over the fact that Caliban was here, in the same room as me. Just looking at him made my heart skip a beat then run away like a crazied filly.

My eyes returned to Caliban and took in his form, the wide shoulders and the column of his neck and the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. Who would have thought that little movement to be sexy? I took my time memorizing the shape of his jawline, the fullness if his lips, oh how I wished to know the feeling of them against mine! My eyes roamed higher, his eyes-!

As if struck by lightning I turned my head back to the ongoing conversation. I didn’t hear any of it. I was panicking, had he caught me staring like some loon? Surely he had, for it had been my way he had been looking. Maybe it wasn’t me had was looking at?

Looking over both my shoulder I tried to guess, pray to find the thing that had Caliban’s attention. I didn’t want it to be me, but at the same time the idea that it wasn’t be cut surprisingly sharp. Worse off I didn’t know what look I had on my face as I leered. What if I had been drooling! Okay, I knew I hadn’t been but still. Who just stares at someone? First of all it was rude, secondly it was creepy.

From then on I made every attempt not to look over at Caliban. I didn’t want to get caught staring again and didn’t want to see the look of disgust on his face when he looked me over. Guys like him didn’t look at girls like me a second time. Maybe me from ten years ago with my dancer’s body but now, I kept from shaking my head but knew my pining was for naught.

The last ten minutes of the meeting consisted of me beating myself up and tearing myself down, it was my favorite roller coaster since, well just since. The moment the meeting ended I turned towards Marcus wanting to flee. “Can we go?”

Marcus arched a brushy brow, the ends of his mouth turning into a subtle smile. “Don’t you want to stay? Take a look around?” He teased, his voice privately toned so only I heard him.

“No, I would rather we go. Train or something.” I fluttered, waving a hand in the air at the loss of something real to do.

At that Marcus’ teasing smile was gone and a hard look replaced it. “Train?”

When we had talked, traded questions for answers on both our parts I had made it very apparent that I had no defensive or offensive training. That nothing like sword play or it likes was even a thing save for movies. Which I then had to explain, leading to a long talk about entertainment and technology.

“Why?”

Why? I didn’t want to answer why. Hadn’t expected why. “Because everyone should be able to defend themselves.”

For what felt like hours, but last maybe ten seconds, Marcus looked down at me before shrugging.

“Is that a yes?” For something that had just started out as an excuse to avoid Caliban and my whirlwind of emotions I was kind of excited at the prospect of becoming some badass Xena Warrior Princess.

Marcus smiled but gave no more of an answer then a shrug, turning on his heel and leaving me glaring at his back.

I really hated that shrug.

- - - - - - -

It must have been early morning when the meeting had started because the sun was still low in the sky when I followed Marcus out to a dirt packed yard. He had detoured to some storage room of unknown size, I hovered in the hallway as I had been told, and came out with a handful of items. Tossing a leather armored tunic thing at me, followed by a rough cotton pant, belt and boots. The last of which I dropped. Oddly enough it looked like Marcus still held the same amount of things as last time even with throwing me my new outfit.

Now I strolled into the yard hoping that I didn’t look as silly as I felt. The boots were worn soft leather with hard soles and would have fit like a glove if not for the tad too wide heel. My favorite part were the buckles and stays that laced up the sides and back keeping the boot molded up my calf to just below my knee. The dark brown pant were itchy and drawn together with a hemp like cord and I tucked them into my borrowed boots. As cool as the natural scarred armor had looked, the thing was heavier than I thought and was ill fitting. The cut wasn’t all that flattering, much too boxy even with the cinched belt that did so much as cinch what with my bloated waistline stopping a touch too long past the middle of my thighs. But it was the pinching just under my armpits as I moved, even with the white long sleeve underneath, that bugged me the most. I had tried at first to wear the sleeveless armor piece without an undershirt but it proved too rough on the inside of the leather.

“The bow.” Marcus introduced once he finished layout out all the weapons he had collected from that room. He handed it to me with a nod for me to take it.

Forgetting the discomfort I eagerly grabbed the bow and took a stance. The wrong stance I soon learned as Marcus corrected me with the feathered end of an arrow.

“Pull the string back as you inhale and release as you exhale.” He motioned holding up an imaginary bow of his own. “You don’t want to hold your breath but use that pause between breaths to aim.” Passing the arrow to me he lined me up with a target maybe ten yards away. “The arrow fits against the string like this,” He pushed the carved valley, nock, back and settled the arrow pointing out the twist of the feather, fletching, and how to line the odd feather out.

That seemed to be the end of his tutoring. Cocky with what little I knew I nocked the arrow, like a pro (not at all like a pro) and using three of my fingers nestled under the arrow pulled back and released. “OOOWWW!” I wailed dropping the bow not even caring where my shot arrow had gone. Yanking up my left sleeve I stared down at an angry red welt that burned as if I had just raked it over hot coals. “Seriously!?” I accused Marcus holding up my injured arm, as he were the one to have inflicted this upon me and not the bow’s string.

“Ah, she kissed you good.”

My mouth fell open, rage filling my eyes. “KISS! It tried to tear the skin from my arm and that was with me wearing a long sleeve shirt!”

Marcus chuckled, laced a leather bit to the inside of my arm, ignoring my hiss of pain, and handed me another arrow. “Again.”

If glared could kill mine would have. Maybe not killed him, Marcus was too skilled a warrior but maimed him the very least. My eyes narrowed as he chuckled again. Fine, seriously wind him. But even that I doubted I could inflict as I snatched the next arrow from his hand. This had been my idea I tried to remind myself. “Could have started with the leather thing to begin with.” I grumbled.

“Bracer.”

The next half down arrows were just as scattered over the ground as my first. My should had started to burn and even with the archer’s glove Marcus had me put on the tips of my fingers were starting to feel raw. And my arm had yet to stop burning.

“Not the bow.” Marcus muttered taking the bow from my and allowing me to unlace the bracer and glove. “Not the long sword but maybe the short sword and shield.”

I was better at moving but the weight of the solid wooden shield threw me off balance and I over corrected landing me on my butt more times then I wanted to admit. So focused was I on the shield and it’s weight, that I dropped my sword arm earning me needled stinging whacks from Marcus as he instructed me over and over to keep my arm up.

“Has it been long enough to determine that the sword and shield aren’t my thing either?” I panted. I was only twenty minutes into my sword and shield lesson, maybe an hour into my training in total and I was beat. I was swore everywhere, the long sleeve undershirt and cotton pant stuck to my sweat covered body and I was beginning to realize just how out of shape I was and that alone was enough to make me want to call it. The only thing I could say I was happy about was that the training yard had stayed empty the entire time we had been here.

Marcus stepped back and grimly nodded his head. “You would move better if you had more confidence in your placements.” Curing his hand over the edge of the serving plate sized wooden shield he took it with ease making me carry the sword back to the covered table.

I basked in the shade before returning the sword, breathing heavy and coughing as I tried to catch my breath.

“I’ll call for refreshments, have a light breakfast before resuming our training.” Marcus informed me before waving a passing servant.

- - - - - - -

I was lucky. By the time the water, fruits, cheeses, hard bread and cured meats had come out other warriors had wandered into the training yard. Be it my sudden inward curl away from people and my training weapons or the escalating noise, Marcus called an early end to our session but not before he promised to resume it later in the day.

So I wasn’t as lucky as I had thought, after seeing how horrible I was I had thought that Marcus would just let this incident go as a passing fancy but it seemed he had other plans in mind.

“Ven Commander, if you would do me the honor?” A huge man with a blunted long sword and tower shield bowed.

Marcus was quick to acknowledge the man but his didn’t give him an answer, instead his gaze hovered at me.

“Go. It might do me some good to see that confidence in action.”

A nod towards me and Marcus was on his feet, sword and shield in hand as he joined the warrior in the yard.

 

[EroticLiteracy]

"What do you think so far?"

Caliban glanced at Lord Byron judging his face as the older lord did the same. He looked weary and tired the lines on his face more distinguished from their first meeting. The idea of what the fish king was capable weighed heavily on the much older and wiser lord. It was enough for Caliban to take the situation seriously even if he couldn't see the Fish King defying the kings explicit commands.

"I don't know" Caliban said sighing "I would like to think the Fish King wouldn't be so stupid but he does call himself king. Surely even if he does attack he will get the full might of the kings army?"

"The king is to busy dying" Lord Byron reminded him "And the current lines of succession are muddied at best. Whoever takes the throne will no doubt stamp out any rebellion he starts but many innocent lives could be lost in the meantime."

"I agree" Caliban said sighing "I hope it doesn't come to that but I think it will if you want my honest council"

"That's what I am afraid of" Byron said sighing "All of us our in danger as long as we are here"

The older lord nodded and took leave of Caliban. Caliban watched as the older lord moved through the opposite corridor before eventually dissapearing. Caliban continued to the training grounds his eyes troubled as he thought over Byrons council.

He was just about to enter the training grounds when a young man with curly red hair stopped him.

"Your Lord Caliban correct?" The red haired man asked running over and stopping in front of Caliban. A flicker of annoyance crossed Caliban's face and his eyes narrowed slightly as impatience colored his eyes.

"Yes?" Caliban asked raising an eyebrow.

"Please forgive me Lord Caliban" The man said pointing at his chest "My name is Lord Fintan. Is it true you were trained in the Isle?"

"I was yes" Caliban said starting to move past the man and into the training room. He was stopped however once more by the young lord.

"It's well known that the warriors of the Isle are quite capable" Fintan said his tone eager "I have a favor to ask of you my lord! I would be forever in your debt"

"Out with it then" Caliban growled resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"There is a lady in there training" Lord Fintan said smiling "I wish to impress her! If I was seen beating a warrior of the isles it might be just what I need to break the ice"

"You want me to give you the win?" Caliban asked his eye brow inching up further "Or do you think you can win on your own?"

"I dont think a sporting match between two FRIENDS would be a bad idea" Fintan said winking at Caliban "And I would greatly appreciate your... discretion in helping impress this girl"

"Those who hide behind coy words mask bad intentions" Caliban said quoting his master from the isle and turning back to the training area "If you wish to fight then I will give you a fair HONORABLE match"

And with that Caliban moved away from the lord and into the training area. His feet hit the hard packed dirt at the same time the sound of steel clashing with steel reached his ears. He felt some of the tension dissipate from his shoulders as his body relaxed in its native environment. So much of his life was lived in the training field both at his fathers manor and in the isles. It held a special place in his heart given the blood sweat and tears he shed in them.

"Was that a yes then?" Fintan said rushing up to him and holding his training sword "I can compensate you very well!"

"I'm not interested" Caliban growled shaking his head from side to side as he moved to a sparing circle.

"But there she is!" Fintan said grasping his arm "Look at her and tell me you would refuse me!"

He pointed drawing Caliban's attention to the training field. Caliban's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Viola training with Marcus. Before he could stop himself he was admiring her form not so much her fighting but her womanly shape.

"That's the woman your interested in?" Caliban said scoffing slightly.

"What does that mean?" Fintan said puffing his chest up "I will have you know SHE is interested to"

"Is she" Caliban said frowning the idea of her being interested in him. He felt a pang in his chest at the idea followed by anger. He turned to the young lord struggling to keep his face composed.

"Let's go spar together" Caliban said smiling softly.

"Great" Fintan said happily moving toward the circular arena. Caliban followed after him pulling his shirt away as he did and revealing his chest and arms once more. He made sure not to look over at her keeping his gaze pointed and fixed as he pulled a spare sword off of the weapon rack.

"So at least make it look good" Fintan said frowning as he noticed Caliban shirt off but shaking it off. He walked up and clapped Caliban on the shoulder.

"Lets begin" Caliban said not saying anything and moving into the circle. He turned on his heel and dropped into a fighting crouch his sword pointed and ready. After a few minutes he brought his free hand up and beckoned with one finger.

Fintan hesitated for several seconds before rushing forward and swinging his sword in a wild circle. Caliban easily side stepped the man a look of disgust crossing his face as he watched the lords "form". It was clear he wasn't a fighter, that he had no feel for the gift..

Which would make this all the more easier.

Caliban let him tire himself out dodging out of the way. Fintan kept coming his thrust getting more and more eratic as frustration set in. Several times he shot Caliban a question look a "what are you doing". Caliban simply kept his face blank giving the lord no hint as to what was happening before it was to late.

He finally tired and that was when Caliban made his move. He jumped forward jabbing his blunt sword into the mans knee and causing him to double over. Caliban brought the sword down and tapped the man in the head a clear killing blow.

"I told you that I would give you an honorable fight" Caliban said smirking "I meant it"

"Your cunt!" Fintan growled straightening up and leveling his sword.

"I'll make you pay for that!"

And so they fought for another 15 minutes. Caliban made sure to make those minutes the hardest the young pampered lord ever experienced. He didn't try to hurt him only choosing to beat him back again and again. No matter what he tried he couldn't breach Caliban's defensive's and every time he grew tired Caliban rapped him on the head.

"Enough of this!" Fintan shouted throwing his sword down and narrowing his eyes at him.

Caliban nodded and stepped back the sword in his hands twisted and turned in a graceful arc before he finally let it rest next to his side. He glanced around noticing the crowd having have formed to watch their battle.

"Good fight" Caliban said ignoring the glare and moving over to the sword rack. He slid it back into the rack and turned moving over to the water and still doing his best not to look for Viola.

 

[Kismets_Paramour]

The spar lasted a total of two minutes. Even though the man was taller, more muscles and carried a sword and shield that dwarfed his own, Marcus bested the man.

Standing there stunned at the sword that had effortlessly slid into his defense, the giant of a man did the last thing I would have guessed. He smiled. “That, that was amazing!” He trumpeted disengaging himself from the blunted sword. “Tell me please.” He begged as the couple pulled more attention from the training yard.

Ten minutes later, after a quick lesson and a rainchecked refusal from other eager warriors, Marcus returned. “The short sword.” He grinned his tone taking on that edge of tutelage.

I groaned but got to my feet hand out to take the offered sword. It was a different sword then the one I had used when paired with the sword and I palmed the handle, waving the blade about trying to see if I could feel the difference. I couldn’t.

“This time just keep in him your footing.” Marcus held the sword he had just sparred with in his hand and thumped the flat of it against my ass. “And keep your free arm tucked to your side.”

I glared at him but took the not so subtle hint to hurry it up. I had kind of hoped that someone would have taken our cleared patch of yard while we ate but it was free even as other parts of the yard became crowded.

“Same as last time, 1-2, 1-1,3-1-2.”

I took my place next to Marcus as we both went through the movements. After the first cycle Marcus moved around me, whacking me with the flat of his blade every now and then. After the fifth or sixth round I got comfortable with the three sequences and relaxed against the rigid structure and started to dance with it. Closing my eyes I moved the way I felt the motions should go, keeping in mind the blade in my hand even as my arm grew tired.

“There!”

Marcus’ bark startled me and I opened my eyes losing the flow to the movements.

“That’s what I’ve been waiting for.” He smiled down at me plucking the sword from my hand. “Here.” He traded me the short sword for two daggers.

I gripped the two daggers, one in each hand and weighted them up and down like dumbbells. I like the balance but worried about having to keep in mind two weapons instead of one.

Marcus restarted at footing with me. It had just been an instant that I had been free with myself, dancing like I had years ago, but Marcus reset my center of balance and taught me to hold a stance before guiding me thought a new set of forms. I’d like to think I was doing well because just after a dozen or so counts Marcus placed himself in front of me with a smile. “Keep doing what you’re doing and everything will be fine.” He nodded moving to defend as my daggers arched up to attack.

The first clang of my top dagger against his sword vibrated up my hand and brought me up short as I should have been moving into my second strike.

Concern drew the line over Marcus’ brows together but he waited his arm in the same half defended move that would have deflected my nest strike. “Viola?” A handful of seconds had passed and I still hadn’t moved.

Caliban. He had just walked into the training yard with Lord Fintan following.

“Ah- yes, yes?” I stumbled jarringly trying to find where we were. “Can we start from the beginning?”

Marcus missed nothing and I saw his eyes dark towards Caliban before he smiled kindly down at me. “Yes, yes we can but if you aren’t paying attention I will strike at you.”

It sounded a lot more threating then I knew it to be, yet at the same time he had been hitting me gently as he corrected me all morning so I knew it wasn’t just empty threats. “Fine.” I nodded hardening my face as I set my resolve to not mess up.

It was much easier to do than keep once I started to hear the strike of metal against metal in Caliban’s direction. Peeking over to see if it was him earned me my first smack against the knuckles of my left hand. Hissing with pain I wrenched my attention back to a grinning Marcus. The growl I made wasn’t very ladylike as I threw myself back into the movements trying to edge my way into Marcus’ defenses.

The second time my attention drifted my hand slipped and Marcus was too slow to pull the sword form making contact with my ribs. It wasn’t a full hit, or even close to half a hit but it was a strike that instantly smarted and that time when I flinched the dagger dropped my dagger to the ground.

Marcus wasn’t smiling when he picked my dagger from the ground, taking the other from my hand before taking me by the shoulders and steereing me towards the sparring match between Caliban and Fintan.

I glanced back over my shoulder with happy confusion and Marcus nodded his consent knowing that I would keep getting distracted and harmed as long as Caliban was in the yard.

Years had passed since the last time I had seen Caliban fight and what skill he had then had multiplied hand over fist. The way he moved, my mouth dried and I swallowed trying to catch my breath. It was like he danced, he was a dancer of bladed death. Fintan on the other hand was like a bull in a china shop, failing around with a sword in his hand gaining him nothing as Caliban toyed with him. It was as if Fintan was a mouse and Caliban the cat.

“Ven Commander.” A messenger handed Marcus a folded piece of parchment, it was sealed with the Fish King’s mark and he waited until the boy was gone before opening it.

I wanted to know what the note said but I had looked away from Caliban for too long. I was addicted to him, needed him like air and felt at last my soul feel whole as I watched him. I learned in that short time the tempo of his strikes, the flow to his parries and kept pace with his unlabored breaths. He was magnificent and I knew those feelings I had for him as a girl were still there, reignited.

I don’t know how but I saw it a millisecond before it happened. The drop in Fintan’s defense. Caliban made his move striking Fintan’s knee, doubling him over and tapping him on the head, a kill strike. Fintan didn’t respond well to the loss and Caliban made him pay for the crude verbal lashing as they started another match.

I heard parchment folded and tucked in a pocket and tore my eyes from Caliban. “What did the note say?”

The shadow in Marcus’ eyes alerted me to the seriousness to the message and I instantly sobered up from my girlish swooning over Caliban as he fought. “Marcus?”

Taking my arm we returned to our shaded table, where I could no longer see Caliban anymore, and Marcus took a piece of cheese breaking a piece and holding it to his mouth. “The Fish King had requested a private meeting.” he spoke around the food before placing it in his mouth and chewing.

I tried to imagine what that would mean what with this morning’s meeting. “Do you think he’s planning something?” I mimicked Marcus by taking a piece of bread using it to hide and muffle my words.

Marcus shrugged, rolling out the movement to look like a stretch. The next few moments were silent, me daintily picking and rolling tiny balls of bread for the bird near the wall, while Marcus stared off in the direction of the archers. His eyes moved with their arrows but I knew he was in his own mind thinking.

“What will you do, is it even possible to refuse him?”

He shook his head no, casting his eyes down at me. Some noise in the distance caught his attention and he departed from the table, his large strides carrying him quickly though the yard. “Lord Caliban, if I may.”

I spun from the table eyes wide at the sound of Marcus saying Caliban’s name.

“You fight well.” Marcus complimented. “The Isles have taught you much.” He nodded. “I have a student I think would fare favorably with your instruction.” Looking across the yard at me.

With both their attention turned to me I had the blistering need to flee but I couldn’t move as Marcus drew Caliban towards me.

“I have a private matter that needs attending.” Marcus stopped once he was just a few feet from me his voice imploring. “If you could, as a personal favor to me, take into training Lady Viola I would be greatly indebted to you.”

Without so much as an answer from either of us, Caliban’s if he was okay with this arrangement or mine, Marcus turned on his heel and marched from the training yard. Leaving tongue tied and blushing in Caliban’s presence.

“You don’t have to stay just because he asked you to.” I stammered kicking at a pebble with my toe. “I’m fairly certain I’m safe as long as I stay within these walls.” I grinned up at him trying to lessen the nerves that had me rambling. “I’d need a bath before I did anything else.” I hummed as I tried to remember just where in this huge castle-fort that room had been where I had my firth bath, with its sunken baths were. “Or maybe just call up for a bath, is that a thing here? Do ladies call up for a bath when they need one?” It wasn’t really a question that needed answering, it was more in my head but at the moment I didn’t know how to shut up. “Then again I’m sure ladies don’t discuss bathing arrangements with strangers.” I groaned wanting to shot myself in the foot. “You can ignore me and leave, I won’t hold it against you and will pass on the sentiment to Marcus.” I assured Caliban releasing him from his unanswered favor to Marcus.

 

[EroticLiteracy]

Of all the ways Caliban thought to get close to her this was NOT one of them.

After the fight he hoped she would be watching. If she was he would take that as a sign of her wanting him to come over and would even attempt to ask her for lunch. Caliban wasn’t versed on the act of dating but THOUGHT that was what people did when they were interested in each other.

And he was very VERY interested.

What he wasn’t expecting was for her guardian Ven Commander Marcus to bring her over and propose a training lesson together. Caliban was simply at a loss for words! Unable to say anything while Marcus quickly took his leave.

Caliban wisely choose to shut his mouth before it started to look stupid and listened to her words. Scarlet creeped onto his cheek as she tried to back out of it not because it seemed she wanted to but because she thought he wanted to. He quickly rose his hand cutting her off before she could say anything more.

“My lady” Caliban said his voice slightly hoarse. He hurriedly cleared it before continuing.

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure than to spend some time with you” Caliban said being direct because… well he didn’t know what else to be.

“I was admiring your own training before my battle with the lord began” Caliban explained going back over to the weapon rack and pulling out the battered training sword he used before.

“I think you have excellent potential and form” He told her honestly “You clearly have had practice before in some kind of art with moving your body. It would be my pleasure to offer my own teachings in the matter…. Though I am nowhere near on your guardians level”

“I will propose one thing though” He told her moving behind her and sheathing his training sword. After only a moments hesitation he reached out stroking her biceps and arms as he gently guided her into another position. His nostrils flared as he scented her and it was everything he had not to moan out. The scent of her hair was divine even though he couldn’t place it. Something exotic perhaps? More exotic than the isles?

“Position yourself here” He told her showing her the form “I notice you like to distribute your weight and this form will help you do so. Less pressure on one leg and gives you more range of movement.”

He risked one more smell before stepping back and moving to face her. He moved into his own pose drawing his sword out and testing the weight in his hand before bringing it up.

“Ready” He told her a smile on his face “Care to dance the dance of death my lady? That is what it is called in the Isles. I didn’t tell lord Fenwick that of course. I think if I had he would have thought twice before trying to bribe me to throw the dance to catch your eye”

 

[Kismets_Paramour]

I realized just how stupid and silly I sounded when he blushed out of embarrassment for me. I really was making the best impression with Caliban. It he wasn’t so kind a gentleman he would surely think me some kind of simpleton tart. I squeezed my eyes shut and looked away feeling my embarrassment level rise to a new height.

“Viola.” I quickly corrected at the use of the title. “Please.” Everyone used the title like a name and it created a distance between them, like they didn’t really want to know you. I wanted Caliban to know me but more than that I wanted to hear him say my name.

Pleasure.

The teenage girl inside me swooned over the word and made a much bigger deal out of it then its polite use. ’Give him great pleasure…’ I giggled almost missing the fact that he hadn’t stopped talking just because I was crushing hardcore over him.

But then he used words like admiring and excellent potential and form which wasn’t all that bad but where my mind was going it sure wasn’t a PG movie. Then again with the word pleasure. The word alone had be biting my lip and quivering to feel the full extent of that word. Propose, yes please and thank you. I sighed failing to focus my mind on what was really happening versus what I wanted to happen.

Oh my gods this is even better!

Caliban moved behind me and lightly ran his hands over my biceps and arms. I tried to keep my breathing the same but felt myself shiver under his touch, goosebumps leaving a trail where his touch had been. He molded her like clay and repositioned her in a new stance. His voice was close to my ear when he spoke next and I shivered again falling into a fever. “Like this?” My throat was dry and my words came out raspy, I swallowed but it didn’t help. Still I strengthen my body and kept the new position only then realizing my mistake. If I had held my body incorrectly Caliban would be forced to correct me and prolong his touch.

Damn it!

I nodded to the explanation for the change. I wanted to brave a false question about my leg position but before I could muster but the courage to ask it, Caliban was across from me. His casual mention of it being a dance of death almost brought me up short. The thing that made me lose my grip on my daggers were his next words.

“Lord Fintan? A bribe to catch my eye?” I didn’t believe and tore my gaze from Caliban to seek out Fintan. I remember the end of the fight but couldn’t recall much past Caliban. He had won, then he won again and Fintan threw a fit and… stormed off? It seemed the appropriate response basted on his out bust and poor sportsmanship but it was merely a guess back on that alone. “Really?” My tone raised in interest and disbelief. Oh it wasn’t interest in the man but the reasoning behind it. I didn’t consider myself to be a real beauty. Maybe years before I could pass as something close to it but since my weight gain my new rotund and squatty stature didn’t have guys so much as giving me a second look.

In the end I totaled it to Marcus and his adoption of me. It stung my heart to think that Caliban was one of those that would be using my relationship with Marcus for his benefit.

“Right.” I crouched down and balanced my stance a hardness in my eyes when I looked back at Caliban. “Let’s dance.”

 

[EroticLiteracy]

He watched her get ready his eyes raking over her form in pleasure as she moved into a fighting position. After taking the time to admire her he focused on her form studying it for a few seconds.

“Not bad” He thought to himself shifting his own stance to better combat hers “Given some training she wouldn’t be to bad”

He cleared his throat and feeling bold called out to her.

“You know in the isles couples dance like this” Caliban said to her his eyes flashing with pleasure “Some of these dances even end in a marriage proposal”

He felt red creeping onto his cheeks and he moved forward before she could see it. He attacked her making the mental note that this was more for training than an actual contest. So he tested her probing her defenses with some quick jabs and rapid strikes. He gave her several challenging techniques and depending on how she reacted pressed certain ones.

Eventually he decided to flirt a bit. He began to get close to her brushing their bodies together when they locked blades. Sometimes his lips were inches from hers and in one bold move he even tapped his sword against her lower tailbone!

He could only imagine how the onlookers were reacting. The northerners treated public display of affections with the same pleasure as the plague! It was so different from the isles where woman swam naked and danced with each other in the fire….

He decided to finish the fight with a bold move. He came at her again and this time when he locked blades with her he brought both sorts down and dropped them. He reached out and grabbed her spinning her into his arms and ducking her down before bringing her back up and lifting her in the air with her hips.

“And that’s how you end a dance!” Caliban said grinning like an idiot as he brought her back down onto the training ring “And I couldn’t have asked for a better partner!”

 

[Kismets_Paramour]

The tidbit of information had me thinking. I couldn’t recall him ‘dancing’ with anyone but male partners and other than the ebony goddess there hadn’t been anyone female in his youth. As much as it pained me I recalled the kissing memory and was alarmed that it had been the girl who had pressed him for the kiss and not him. It struck me like a lightning bolt and my heart broke anew. He was gay. Why not, my Dads were so why not the only other man I had ever loved?

“I see.” I lamely answered back hating that somehow I became his person to talk to. Maybe this place wasn’t as friendly about same sex love and as I was so obviously an outside so I was safe to talk to. It hurt, I wanted to be that person for him but I just couldn’t. The blush I mistook for a confession of sorts about his interest in Fintan, maybe it was jealousy that had Caliban bring up Lord Fintan’s supposed liking to me.

I didn’t get much time to think about this new development before Caliban started the attack. It wasn’t like Marcus that gave me movements that I shadowed until I get comfortable with them. No, he showed me a move or two then started in on me. I felt like a fish out of water as he jabbed at me, nearly all of which I missed defending adding to the assortment of bruises I would have. I don’t know if I was learning that Caliban would forever be a one sided love or just my discomfort at failing about in front of him but I was steaming mad at how poorly I felt I was doing. My body hurt, where the armor pinched welted and I was getting a heat rash from the constant rubbing from the ill fitting leather.

Like salt in the wound Caliban made a point of breaking into my defenses, sure he eased my hurt ego by smiling at me but all I could see was the fact that all I would ever be to him was a friend. In a desperate move, I charged trying to mimic that spinning attack I saw him use on Fintan but he deflected it easily, locking our blades together. I growled, my face screwing up with annoyance. A look that quickly turned to panic as he dropped our blades down, spun and dunked me before lifting me up in the air.

“Eeak!” I squealed my arms pin wheeling in air. No girl wanted to be called fat, much less by their own self but that was how I saw myself and the show of strength on Caliban’s part to lift me like Patrick Swayze from Dirty Dancing was both embarrassing and totally hot. My face on the other hand was pinched tight as I fought with my mind and body. “Right.” I huffed waving him off trying and failing at a smile at his false compliment about no better dance partner.

Turing on my heel, I swooped to pick up my disarmed sword and marched over to the table with a little black storm cloud over head. I made a motion to gather everything up but stopped before I even started. What was the point, I didn’t know where anything went and tossed the sword down with everything else and fled the training yard pulling at the buckles and ties of the armor as I went.

Wasn’t this just perfect. I pouted to myself soaking in the self-pity with every breath. Caliban, the first and only love of my life, who I believed I had made up turned out to not only be real but gay. I hated my life. I really really- “Wait, where am I going?” I had just climbed a set of stairs that lead to, I had no idea where it lead to and as I hadn’t been paying any attention was I all turned around. With a sigh I looked around and spotted what I thought looked like a familiar hallway and headed down in that direction. As I neared its short end it lead to a new set of stairs heading down to the ground floor. “For Pete’s sake.” I cursed pulling off the leather armor as I headed down those stairs.

“Viola?”

Marcus’ voice was a god given gift as I cleared the armor up and over my head, shaking my messy hair from my face. At the same time a hand reached out and grabbed my wrist, jumping I turned around and slipped. Caliban’s face falling as I fell back the last few feet of stairs. The moment felt weightless and I tensed my body knowing that falling head first down a flight of stone steps was going to hurt like a mother.

= = = = = = = = =

Marcus saw it right before it happened and sprinted towards Viola but she was too far away. Pushing himself he reached out frantic to catch her and braced himself just as Viola- disappeared. Marcus let out the breath of air he had been holding and looked up at Caliban with the first trickling of fear bleeding into his eyes. The clothing she had been wearing and the armor that had been in her hand clattered loudly in the empty stairwell between the two men.

“She’ll be back.” Hissed a throaty voice from the shadows. “She has found her way back home, her heart knows. Her soul knows. HE knows.” Chuckled an Ancient talking in riddles as he stepped out from the darkness.

Flinching Marcus spun towards the voice his hand going to his sword.

“Come, come. Much must be said in such little time.” He urged shuffling down the hall, an obvious limp in his step waving his hand at Marcus and Caliban both. “Seconds, seconds, second to died!” He crackled madly pressing a section of the wall to reveal a secret passage. “Third to live?” It was sang like a question as he hobbled into the stale room. It was dark and rank with years of decay and disuse.

Marcus looked back at Caliban, weighing a heavy look at him before following the bent creature down the hall where he vanished into the wall. ’Great more vanishing acts.’ He growled to himself seeing a break in the wall and a pitch black opening. As he entered torches came to life, the room was on the small side but it at one time been used as a meeting room, with a table and six chairs. Scraps of paper and an inkwell were the only thing left of the last meeting this room had held.

Once the pair were in the room the door closed by itself. “It’s been broke, the Ancients of was and now.” The Ancient stood on the far side of the room wringing his hands, the first sign of anything past madness. “They swim with a new King, as we rot with the old. But she will begin anew.” He recited rhythmed as if reading a poem. “Roles must be filled, friends untied restrung, deaths will tally.” In the center of the table magelight hovered taking shape of a great mountain. “Find the spark of fire in the icy depths.” He instructed as the flickering blue light zoomed in and focused on a building built into the side of the mountain suspended there impossibly stable against the harsh windy talons.

Outside the bells started to ring and shouts could be heard, people running and the Ancient shook his head his body bending as if more weight were added to his shoulders.

“Keep Her safe.”

“Keep Her secret.”

“Keep Her well.”

“Far from the Father!”

“Death in danger.”

“Death in knowledge.”

“Death to all.”

He chanted rocking back and forth.

“Doth the bells ring.”

“Doth the death toll.”

“Doth the blood spills.”

“False in the light’s eyes.”

“Seek in darkness the only answer.”

“Find in shadows the horrors of truth.”

“Love the one born to both.”

He stopped rocking and chanting at that point and in the clearest voice. “Else she will die.” He prophesized stepping back into the shadows, one by own the torches going out and leaving the room quiet, dark and cold.

Marcus chuffed and opened the door back out to the hallway, leading the way for Caliban. The moment both men were in the hall the door once again closed and Marcus pushed against the wall trying to find its opening again. But the wall didn’t move and the sound of running feet kept Marcus from trying again.

“Did you hear? Did you hear?!” A kitchen maid cheered. “She been found, The Chosen One had been found! The Fish King has called a meeting in the throne room. Hurry now or you’ll miss it!”

Watching the young woman run off a dark look crossed over Marcus’ face. He had just come from a meeting with the Fish King, how fortuitous that the chosen one should be found when (s)he was the only thing keeping him from acting as he felt necessary. “Can I trust you to keep Viola’s secret?” Marcus’ tone was fierce and the look on his face promised nothing short of death if he didn’t believe Caliban’s answer.