Haunted

Ba da pa pa ba da pa pa...
Come here
Pretty please
Can you tell me where I am
You won't you say something
I need to get my bearings
I'm lost
And the shadows keep on changing

And I'm haunted
By the lives that I have loved
And actions I have hated
I'm haunted
By the lives that wove the web
Inside my haunted head

Ba da pa pa ba da pa pa...

Don't cry,
There's always a way
Here in November in this house of leaves
We'll pray
Please, I know it's hard to believe
To see a perfect forest
Through so many splintered trees
You and me
And these shadows keep on changing

And I'm haunted
By the lives that I have loved
And actions I have hated
I'm haunted
By the promises I've made
And others I have broken
I'm haunted
By the lives that wove the web
Inside my haunted head

Hallways... always

I'll always love you
I'll always need you
I'll always want you

And I will always miss you

Ba da pa pa ba da pa pa...

Come here
No I won't say please
One more look at the ghost
Before I'm gonna make it leave
Come here
I've got the pieces here
Time to gather up the splinters
Build a casket for my tears

I'm haunted
(By the lives that I have loved)
I'm haunted
(By the promises I've made)
I'm haunted
By the hallways in this tiny room
The echos there of me and you
The voices that are carrying this tune

 Full moonlight washed over the night-made dark
green hills of Cairel Valley. Paying no heed to the many stone
sentinels that lined the lush gardens, a woman runs. She runs from
herself, trying to escape the lunar rays that follow.
A flowing main of molten ruby hair trails after
her. The black silken robes that once were beautiful are now torn
and in tatters from the brush underfoot. "No, no, no," the woman
chants. She puts on an extra burst of energy in the hopes that she
could reach the Pallen Shores River before it happens.
All of a sudden she falls to the ground,
screaming in pain. Her body beings to spasm as a horrific cry
escapes her. Two massive green and purple scaly wings tear through
the skin on her back. A tail of the same ghastly type rips from her
lower back. The pale skinned arms and legs also transform, growing
and changing. The woman's shapely face juts out abnormally; her
brown eyes become emerald, and that of a reptile.
The moon shines down on the unearthly creature.
The woman lifts her head to the heavens and calls out, her voice that
of the most feared and revered creature. She has become the Dragon
of Cairel Valley and the bane of it's Lord.






Orris scratched his head. I just don't
understand it. The whole village burnt. A smoking pile of corpses
lay before the Lord of Cairel Valley. It had been many years since
such destruction been seen in the peaceful land. Only one person had
survived the catastrophe.
An old, knarled man was laying under a tree,
being attended to by Orris's top surgeon, Kopfur. The man thrashed
about, screaming in his haunted vision. Orris walked to Kopfur.
"What can he remember?" Orris asked. The old
man woke from his troubled sleep and looked into Orris's
eyes. "Elose, Elose," he choked before the light went from his eyes.
"Kopfur, he is dead?" Orris questioned his surgeon who stood by his
side. "Yes, M'lord. He fought for life for a long time. He has
lived through much I fear," Kopfur answered, crossing the man's arms
over his chest and closing his eyelids.
"Tell me Kopfur, what does `Elose' mean? Do you
know?" The surgeon looked to the horizon, absentmindedly tugging on
his graying beard. "Kopfur, answer me! I must know what is killing
my people and if there is anything I can do to stop it!" Orris
shouted.
"M'lord, it is something I prayed was gone from
this cursed land," Kopfur said. "Damnit, man, that doesn't help me!"
Orris yelled, shaking Kopfur's shoulders.
"The dragon, M'lord! The dragon has returned.
Elose means dragon!" Kopfur said, losing his trademark calm.
"Gods help me. The dragon has returned," Orris
said meekly, letting Kopfur go. A rider came tearing up the path on
a blazing pony. "M'lord! M'lord!" he shouted, waving a piece of
parchment.
Orris turned to the man and snatched the
parchment from his hand. It was sealed with the mark of the general
of Cairel's army. Orris tore it, knowing the news inside must be
urgent.


"M'lord, it has come to the attention of myself and my commanders
that an evil has returned to the land. The Lady of Cairel has felt
it also and has retreated into the walls of the coven to speak with
Priestess Lunarae`. You must return M'lord as the army is reading
our defensives and other strategic options of dealing with this
abomination."
~ Jarris Remani, General"



Orris sighed heavily. His wife had sensed the
dragon's presence last night in their bed. He cursed. She had clung
to him so tight after they made love, shivering as though cold. She
had tossed and uttered strange things in her sleep. She only did
that when trouble was afoot.
He saluted the rider and made for the small
contingent that had come with him to the now ashes that once was a
small picturesque village. He mounted his horse and raced like
wildfire for Cairel Castle.






Orris's wife Eryyn sat in the chambers of the
Priestess of Cairel. Celest was the youngest woman, 20, in recorded
history to hold the coveted position. Her features caused a stir
whenever she made a public appearance or attended a feast. Her hair
was like no other. It was the deepest crimson and fell about her
like a waterfall.
Though her build was small and frail looking,
Celest possessed great strength that un-nerved the guards that were
posted in the coven. With skin finer than porcelain, she often
seemed to glow from within. Her earth brown eyes could, it was
reported, see into the very soul of anyone. When working her magick,
they changed a bright green.
Eryyn watched the Priestess move from one sacred
alter to the next, lighting this, scattering that. "Lady, come here
and help me," Celest bade the lady. Her thick accent still made
something jump in Eryyn.
She rose and went to the black robed woman.
Celest handed Eryyn a daggar. "You know the God Kairoj shall only
answer the prayers of those who have shed their blood in his name.
Do it," Celest said. The deep voice held power and began to cast a
familiar spell on Eryyn.
The Lady held the daggar across her
wrist. "No, Eryyn, you should remember." Celest came behind the
Lady and began to untie the fasteners on the dress. "You must offer
yourself to him." Eryyn felt hypnotized as her clothing fell away
and she stood before the altar naked.
The daggar moved to her breast. With one
small movement, the Lady made a cut along the top of it. The wound
bled. The Priestess smiled; eyes already changed into green. Red
liquid ran down the Lady's body, pooling at her feet.
Celest moved to stand before the Lady, whose
eyes were clouded over. Celest brought her mouth to the wound at the
Lady's breast and drank the blood that poured so freely. Lips
crimson stained to match her hair; she began nibbling up the Lady's
torso stopping at her mouth. She kissed the Lady, feeling her tongue
move to meet it.
The Lady rocked unsteadily agenst the black
robed Priestess, living for this slick kiss. Sinking deeper into the
dream she wrapped her arms around the red-haired woman. Celest
lifted the Lady carried her to an empty alter and layed her down.
The Lady, knowing what was to come next, spread her legs and waited.
Celest brought her mouth to the center of the Lady's being and began
to drink of her again. Her tongue pulsed into the Lady and drew out
her most viable essence. The Lady made a moaning sound and drifted
into a dreamless sleep.
Rising from the altar, Celest walked to the door
and exited. Before closing it, she looked back to see the woman,
body red with the sheen of blood, lying on the altar. Wiping her
dripping mouth on her sleeve, she continued into her private
worshiping room and kneeled at the altar's base.
Bowing her head to the ever-burning candle flame
illuminating the marble statue of a dark winged Goddess, Celest began
to pray.
"Dark Mother, grant me the power to keep from
changing at the next full moon. I am happy in this body, what comes
with it is wondrous. The blood and essence I have taken is in your
name, as always I am your servant. Give me what I ask, and I shall
continue my work, your work," Celest spoke, her communion for her
Goddess at the moment, over.
The flame before her sputtered in answer to the
prayer. "Thank you, Dark Mother. I ask that you continue to bless
the people of this valley and protect them from me. Protect them
from what your daughter created."





Orris sat in his private dinning chamber,
waiting for Eryyn to return from her bath so that they could share
the fire. A movement in the doorway caught his attention. He
turned. His wife stood, clothed in a simple white sheet wrapped
around her. "Care to join me, husband?"
He felt a stirring in his heart and loins that
could not be ignored. Eryyn always had a power over him when she
returned from the Priestess that he couldn't explain and couldn't
ignore. Orris followed his wife into their bedchambers and watched
wide-eyed as she tossed away the sheet and pulled him to her.
Her hands were gentle as she undid the fastens
on his trousers and pulled his stiff penis into her mouth. Orris
gave into her and moaned as her tongue, warm upon him, worked
magick. He came quickly, feeling weak and shaky. Eryyn rose from
her knees and, mouth shinning, layed on the bed. Still woozy, Orris
layed with her and was asleep in seconds.





Jarris felt his eyes fuzz. He had been staring
at the same map of Cairel for the last two hours by candlelight in
his small cottage. He ran a hand through his thick black hair. A
sigh passed his lips.
Not wanting to be in the hustle and bustle of
the castle, Jarris had demanded his quarters be placed outside its
walls. The Lord had agreed and given him a hunting cottage on the
edge of the forest that bordered the castle from the Pallen Shores
River. He had everything he desired, and yet it was a lonely life.
The only companion he had was the Priestess
Celest, his closest friend and occasional lover. He had never known
a woman like her. She gave and took without being urged to do
either. Jarris smiled whenever he thought of her perfect body
plastered to his.
The way her hair felt bunched in his hands, the
softness, caused his stomach to roll and leap, even in memory. He
closed his eyes and tasted her completely feminine flavor that he
could never forget. His hands began to close, and his fingers to
shake when he thought of touching her silken skin.
Waking from his short dream and realizing what a
fool he was for fantasizing, Jarris shook himself awake and took a
drink of the warm spiced wine in his tankard. His head felt fevered,
and he was sweating.
Rising, Jarris walked to the door and stepped
outside, hopping the night air would calm his nerves and make him
forget her.
Wanting a change of scenery, he decided on a
midnight stroll to the river. Stopping only long enough to retrieve
a torch, Jarris headed briskly to the Shore. The walk was short and
he arrived at the Shore without realizing it.
The night was dark, but the gibbon's moon
illuminated everything. A splashing noise caught his attention and
Jarris trailed his eyes to find the source.
At the waters' edge, he saw something that made
his heart ache. There in the silvery water, the Priestess was
bathing. Her black robe was cast aside, and a small fire was lit in
a lee of stones.
"Sit by my fire and I'll join you shortly,
dearest Jarris," Celest's thickly accented voice said. Jarris smiled
and walked to do as she asked. Usually the most polite man, Jarris
abandoned his normal character and stole another look towards the
river.
A pale face bobbed above the water trailed by
darkness. There was just enough light for the smallest amount of red
in her hair to be seen, giving the water a colored tint of blood.
Celest rose out of the water, throwing her head
back and tossing the great expanse of wet hair behind her. Her
pearlesant skin positively glowed in the moonlight. Her nipples were
hard, pronounced on her jutting breasts. Jarris caught himself and
turned around before she could rise any farther from the water.
He could hear her exit the river, the slight
sloshing of water. He heard her light footfalls coming towards him,
her shallow breathing.
He stiffened his back when a slight pressure was
applied to it. Jarris turned his head to find Celest, still naked,
pressing her wet body onto his back. She sunk her teeth deep into
his neck, wrapping her arms around him. Jarris closed his eyes and
moaned. Her grip tightened.
Jarris wrapped one arm around her and pulled her
into his lap so that he could bite too. When he did, she also
moaned. Her hands worked the buttons on his tunic as he worked on
his leggings. Soon they were both naked and rolling around next to
the fire. Before he could slip into her, she rose and dove back in
the water.
"You must chase me, Jarris," she called,
slightly out of breath. Flabbergasted, Jarris jumped in after her.
The shock of the cold water did not reach his extremities as he
thought but gave him goose bumps non-the-less.
Breaking the surface, he scanned the water line
for the familiar shape of Celest's head. She was no were to be
seen. Then he felt her. She was kissing her way up his leg, pausing
to brush her lips across a certain pulsing spot. She continued
working up, emerging in front of him and mere inches from his face.
Taking her closeness as an invitation, Jarris
grabbed her small waist and kissed her hard on the mouth. "Wrap your
beautiful legs around me," he mumbled. Sensing her movement, Jarris
thrust himself into her. She broke away from his mouth, arching her
back and gasping.
"Has it been too long, Priestess?" Jarris asked,
starting a slow pace he remembered as most irritating to her. Tired
of treading water already, Jarris moved back to the shore, carrying
Celest. He rose out of the water, her still clinging to his waist,
and layed her down on the soft moss.
Celest arched her hips to him, pushing him
deeper inside. "You like me farther in?" Jarris asked, mouth close
to her ear. Her breathing was ragged as Jarris slowed. "Faster,"
she protested. He slowed even more. "Harder." Still, no pace
change.
Tired of being ignored, Celest pushed hard on
Jarris's shoulder and turned them so she was straddling his waist.
She pushed hard, fast, wanting to urge him on. He dug his fingers
into her hips as she rode him. "Ah, I think I understand now," he
managed, turning them again so he was on top.
Expecting him to go slow again, Celest was
surprised when Jarris exploded into her, fast and furious, matching
the primal drum beat in her heart. She was crying out, digging her
nails into his sweating back. He joined her, sounds so loud they
would have waked the dead. When he came, he shuddered all over and
fell onto her chest, breathing heavily trying to regain himself.
"You were right, it has been too long," Celest
said, voice shaky. They both fell asleep, the coolness of the air
bringing new sensations to their wet bodies.
They did not wake for two hours. Jarris groaned
and rolled away from Celest. She smiled, watching his shape move
with his breathing.
She knew his form, the sound of his breath.
Celest even fancied herself in love with the General of the Cairel
Army. Foolish she knew, because of her secret. Sitting up, she
pulled her legs up and settled her chin on her knees.
Dropping her head back and starring into the
sky, Celest searched for an answer in the heavens.
"Dark Mother, what am I to do?" A small night
bird landed a mere foot from her. It pecked at a grouping of
passionflowers. A silvery fish popped its' head from the water and
looked to the bird.
"The bird cannot love the fish, nor the fish the
bird," the wind whispered. The small winged creature took to the sky
and the fish retreated back into its' liquid home. She bowed her
head and wept.
Hearing a soft sound, like a child crying,
Jarris opened his eyes and turned to see Celest, huddled into a ball,
weeping. He had never seen this woman cry; it seemed so beneath
her. He sat up and moved to her.
"Tell me, what is troubling you?" he said,
wrapping his arms around her shoulders and settling her agenst his
chest. She buried her face into him, crying and sobbing. Jarris
stroked her hair and rocked her back and forth, hoping it was
comforting.
Celest turned her face to him, even tear
streaked she was still the most beautiful woman in creation. She
kissed him then, not the passionate lustful kiss of before, but one
of a timid amateur.
"Please tell me, what has you so unhappy?" he
tried again. She pulled away from him and rose, searching for her
robe. "Is it I?" Celest shook her head to the negative as she
pulled the robe over her head and continued searching for the
belt. "Is it that you are tired of hiding ourselves from the rest of
the world?"
Celest stopped and glared at him. Even in the
semi-darkness, Jarris could feel the heat generated from the anger in
her eyes. "What did I do now?" he asked, rising and pulling on his
leggings.
"I can't tell you whats' wrong with me, if I
could, I would, but I just can't," Celest said, voice cold.
"Are you in trouble? Is there anything I can do
to help without knowing what the problem is?"
Celest sighed and walked back to him, her rage
for the moment, forgotten. "My dearest Jarris," she said, taking his
hand in hers and kissing each fingertip, "keep me satisfied beyond my
wildest dreams and there shall be no problems."
The fire behind made her hair seem like true
molten ruby. Sparks alighted in her eyes, and she smiled a flirty
grin. Jarris gave up and simply kissed her, not wanting to argue
further, knowing that if it was truly important, she would tell him
eventually.
It was ment to be a gentle kiss, but the hot
molding of mouths left both wanting more. Jarris's hands were lost
in her hair, moving down to pull the robe over her head. She obliged
and began pulling on his trousers.
They sunk to the moss and succumbed to their
passions, coaxing the fire out of eachother.
Celest, lying in the arms of Jarris, wept
silently once more before falling into a sleep haunted by dreams
filled with wings and fire.






The Lady Eryyn had woken early to find her
husband sleeping soundlessly next to her. She shook her head and
rose, pulling a robe around her thin frame. Eryyn walked to the
window and pulled open the curtain. Orris groaned and rolled over,
irritated by the sunlight.
Eryyn looked back at him and smiled. What a big
baby, she thought. The sound of servants shouting to eachother
brought her attention back to the window.
In the square below, a man on a horse in
resplendent armor was demanding an audience with the Lord. "I have
information regarding the dragon problem you seem to be having. I
have chased this dragon since the last time it reared its head in
these lands. I must speak with the Lord!" the man said, his voice
deep and accented familiarly.
A chamberlain walked behind the man and
spoke. "And what is your name, Sir?" The man spun his horse and
glared at the chamberlain. "I am Sir Darren Vragon, Knight of
Ellenora," the knight said, seemingly angry and irritated.
Eryyn rushed to Orris's side and shook him
awake. "Damn you woman! What do you want?!" he shouted at her,
always the grumpy one. "Husband, there is a knight below who says he
can solve our dragon problem and I believe if someone does not do
something, he could possibly eat the chamberlain!"
"Damn it! If its' not the dragon, its'
something to do with it that interrupts my sleep!" Orris stiffly
rolled from the bed, hitting the floor with a thud. Roaring, he
called for his personal manservant and hastily got dressed as Eryyn
ran to the chamberlain's rescue.
Flying down the stairs in nothing but her robe,
Eryyn burst through the large doors into the courtyard as Darren
grabbed the chamberlain by his scruffy neck.
"Hold Sir Knight!" Eryyn cried. Darren looked
to her and dropped the man. The chamberlain landed face down in the
dust and rose, spitting it from his mouth. Darren's eyes could not
leave the scantly clad Lady, hair disheveled and all. "I must
implore you to cease this, Sir Knight. I am the Lady of this land,
and my husband shall be with you shortly. If you wouldn't mind
dismounting and following me," Eryyn waved a hand towards one of the
squires and turned to walk back into the castle.
"My Lady!" Darren called as he hurried to follow
her, armor clanking. "I apologize for my actions, I hope I have not
angered you," he said, bowing deeply.
Eryyn put her dainty hand on his shoulder,
signaling him to rise. Darren's eyes locked with hers, and the
drugged feeling of being in Celest's presence entered her. I know
you, she thought. The horse neighed loudly, breaking whatever small
spell had been cast.
"If you'll follow me, Sir Vragon." The dusty
knight felt a slight fluttering in his heart at the sight of the
Lady's shapely form before him. The slight pressure in his head did
not however cease.






He had tracked the Lunar Dragon for the last 20
years, since he was a young man of 16. Then the dragon was but a
small hatchling, not more than a year old, but still possessing the
intelligence and power of a creature 200 times as old.
His right arm still bore the scar of the flame
the creature seared him with on the night he chased it from Cairel
Valley so long ago. Hunting a beast that only showed its' self
during the full moon was not an easy task, and the reason the 16 year
old Darren had been chosen was his unique past.
He and the dragon both hailed from Ellenora; a
land seeped in magick and darkness. Many speculated that Darren
himself had dragon blood, hence his ability to "feel" the creature in
his head. The only son of an unknown man and the Lord's youngest
daughter, his birth was a mystery. Darren fought the beast one night
when it tried to burn his mother's shrine to the sun Goddess. He
managed to wound it, causing the dragon to flee and head north, to
Cairel Valley. Very hastily, his grandfather knighted him and sent
Darren on a quest to kill the creature and bring back its' wings.
Darren tracked the dragon to the valley, and
found it on the shores of the river. They fought until sunrise, when
the heavily wounded creature retreated to the skies and Darren
collapsed with exhaustion.
The then 24-year-old Orris and his new bride
were hunting in the forest and came across the boy, asleep on his
sword. Eryyn gently covered the boy with her cloak and demanded he
be placed on her horse and taken back to the castle for medical
treatment.
For six days Kopfur tried to heal the boy. On
the seventh day, fearing him for dead, the boy woke. Eryyn came to
his bedside and asked him gently who he was.
Struck with young puppy love, Darren told her
his name was Drake and he was an orphan from the valley. Eryyn
smiled at him and asked why he had a sword. "Drake" told her he had
been fighting the Lunar Dragon. Her smile faded. She rose and went
in search of her husband.
Orris came to the boy. He asked what he knew of
the dragon. Drake told him that the creature had killed his parents
and he wanted revenge. The Lord nodded his head, understanding the
want for vengeance as his parents were also murdered.
The Lord granted Drake a new horse and weaponry
when he was rested. Eryyn protested, saying that the boy would be
better off staying in the castle and forgetting about the dragon.
A month had gone by with no sign of the dragon.
As the full moon approached, Drake knew the creature was again near
the river. He bid goodbye to Orris, stole a kiss from Eryyn's
astonished lips and left the castle to confront the creature again.
He came across the dragon, flexing its' wings at
the water's edge. The beast uttered a shrill scream and charged
him. Again they fought, and the creature alighted Cairel Valley and
headed further north to the frozen lands. Having no choice, Darren
followed it.
Darren was caught in a snowstorm and lost the
creature, loosing the connection with it. The dragon backtracked to
Cairel Valley, deciding to live quietly and bide its' time before
making another appearance.
The King and Queen of Maroo, the farthest
northern civilization, took Darren in and kept him until he was 20,
when he disappeared in the night again in search of the dragon. For
16 years Darren scoured the countryside for the creature. Finally,
he returned to Cairel Valley. Riding down the lush green hills,
Darren felt the presence in his head.
His curiosity won out and he continued to the
castle to see if Orris and Eryyn were still in power. He secretly
hoped to see Eryyn again, as he had never forgotten her. He raced
for the castle, meeting opposition at the gate. Darren shouted
threats and finally fought his way to the inner courtyard to find the
sniveling chamberlain.
Lifting the man to break his neck, Eryyn
appeared. Knowing he was powerless to do anything but obey her, he
dropped the chamberlain and followed her. She did not know his true
name, she only remembered him as Drake and did not recognize him.
It secretly pained him, but she was as beautiful
as the day he first opened his eyes and beheld her. Eryyn's smile
was still comforting and inspiring.
"Sir Darren? Are you listening to a word I have
said?" Eryyn asked, shattering Darren's thought pattern. "No, I
apologize M'lady, I was caught up in my own thoughts."
"You seem familiar, have I ever met you before?"
"Not to my knowledge. I would think that such a
beautiful face would stand out in my memory."
"You flatter, Sir Knight."
"Yes. You deserve it though, Lady."
"Are you sure I've never met you before? Not
even a casual passing? I could swear I've-"
"Darling! This must be the knight who was
causing such a stir," Orris said, wrapping an arm around Eryyn's
waist and kissing her.
Darren sucked up his pride and bowed. "I am Sir
Darren Vragon, here to rid you of your dragon problem."
"Thats' a strong boast, young man. And just how
do you intend to stop the creature, if you don't mind me asking?"
"I shall need the help of your religious leader,
if they will assist me, and a month's lodgings for starters."
Orris tugged his beard as he thought. Oh, what
the hell? Its' better than letting the creature attack again. "Very
well, Sir Darren. But enough talk. Lets' to the banquet hall for
dinner."
The Lord and Lady, arms locked around eachother
started off towards the dinning hall. Standing by himself, Darren
reflected.
When he had first viewed Eryyn, she was 22, and
had the face a Goddess would envy. Darren remembered hating Orris
for having her, for treating her as nothing more than a pretty face.
Young "Drake" had secretly vowed to take Eryyn
for his own after the dragon's death, even if he had to kill Orris.
He had dreamt of nothing but her, often waking hoping to hold her in
his arms, but finding nothing but air.
Darren shrugged and followed the two, quietly
cursing Orris.





After their long over-do reconciliation, Jarris
and Celest had said their good-byes and headed back. Jarris to his
cottage, Celest to the castle.
She sat next to her altar, thinking. She closed
her eyes and recalled the time she and Jarris had spent at the river,
goosebumps rose on her skin. A blue candle sputtered.
Celest's eyes shot open. "No," she breathed.
The candle sputtered again. "No, it cannot be him! He could not
have found me!" She ran to the large worshipping room and knelt
before the altar dedicated to Feallen, God of true-sight.
"Show me!" she angrily demanded, swirling the
cauldron on the altar with her fingers. The inked water began to
ripple as Celest removed her hand. A shape took form. Orris and
Eryyn were dressing for dinner, the image moved down the hall and
into a room where a young man was bathing. His back was to her.
"Turn damn you!" she commanded, pointing at the
image. The man turned, muscles rippling while he lathered, body
gleaming with the warm water. Ice blue eyes penetrated
Celest. "Dark Mother be merciful, the Hunter!"
A knock on the door sent the image
away. "Forgive me, Holiness, but a messenger has arrived from the
Lord and Lady. They ask that you attend dinner this evening," one of
the lower holy-men said. He bowed and left.
Celest cried out in rage. She stormed to her
rooms and tossed her robes aside in lee of her black dress with
Goddess lace. "Why now?" she asked the air, not expecting an answer,
and not receiving one.
Fingers shaking while she connected the ties and
clasps, Celest tried to calm her nerves and quench her anger. "No,
it cannot be him," she said again. She pursed her lips together and
blew out the candles on her way out of the room.





Jarris was snoring loudly on the table; drewling
on the maps still spread there. A knock on the door woke him.
Grumbling and cursing, he stumbled to the door,
flinging it open with rage. A cowering Paige stood, arm
outstretched, holding a piece of parchment from the castle.
"From the Lord and Lady," the Paige said,
apparently in a hurry to leave the General. Jarris snatched the
parchment from the boy and shewed him on his way.
Jarris closed the door and tore the seal on the
paper. It read:

General Remani,

This is a formal invitation to appear at and attend the
royal banquet being given this evening at the castle. Tardiness
shall not be tolerated. This is a formal feast, again, and as
General, your place is set next to the religious leader.

~ Orris

Jarris blinked. Formal banquets usually came
before or after a war. And, being the general and all, it seemed
very unusual that anything of that nature was afoot. He shrugged and
tossed the invitation on the table, and headed to his closest.
He calmly unbuttoned his shirt, and started on
his leggings. He flashed on Celest, on their last time at the lake.
His fingers shook as he pulled the leggings down. His penis was hard
at the thought of her.
Jarris closed his eyes and took hold of
himself. Memories of Celest's fingernails running along his back
caused his hand to flex and begin moving up and down. A small moan
escaped his lips as the silken feeling of being inside her returned.
Jarris's hand motions got faster and faster until he came,
momentarily losing his balance.
"Fuck," he muttered, wiping his hand on a
towel. Jarris turned to his wardrobe and retrieved the dress uniform
he wore to special functions. Using great care not to relieve
himself again, Jarris dressed and walked from his warm cottage to the
castle.




Celest sat on the high-backed intricately carved
chair in the chaos of the dinning hall. The guest of honor had not
yet arrived, and neither had Jarris. Her stone facedness was
repelling some of the normal chatty court acquaintances.
The great oak doors at the other end of the hall
creaked open and the General walked in. Tripping over the two great
deerhounds that always rummaged for scraps at the guest's feet;
Jarris continued to the table and took the seat next to the Priestess.
"Are you well, Priestess?" he asked, as was
customary. She nodded and offered to poor him some of the white wine
in the decanter before her. "Yes, thank you Priestess."
Celest snuck her hand under the table to rest on
his leg. Jarris entwined his fingers with her delicate ones. She
smiled.
"I greatly enjoyed our time at the river,"
Jarris said in low tones, moving his mouth to her ear. Celest
shivered slightly at his closeness, but remembered not to lose her
composure.
"As did I," she replied quietly. "I look
forward to our next meeting," he continued, darting his tongue out to
secretly lick her ear. Celest broke her hand away from his and
brought it to rest between his legs. She squeezed the part of him
that was hot, hard.
Jarris shuddered and pulled away from her ear.
She was smiling again. He growled softly in a mock protest. Their
fingers again entwined.
The doors again creaked open. Celest shot up
and gasped. Jarris turned his attention to the man standing in the
door.
He was young, with closely cropped black hair
and a dangerously handsome face. His expression was one of dignity.
The man scanned the room, vision coming to rest on Celest. His eyes
grew wide and his mouth opened. He also gasped.
Celest had placed her hand on the table, and she
was shaking. The glass near her hand was vibrating, the contents
swirling. Her eyes held terror.
"The Hunter," she breathed. Across the room at
the same moment the man uttered, "The hunted." Jarris looked to both
in shock.
The Lord and Lady came in shortly after, taking
their places to the right of the Priestess. "My friends, this is Sir
Darren Vragon, newly arrived to slay our dragon. Please welcome him
to Cairel," Orris announced.
The man awoke from whatever dream he was
having. "Yes, thank you M'Lord. Where shall I sit?"
"Come here, next to the Priestess, as you said
you would need her help in these matters," Orris said, completely
oblivious to Celest's condition.
She shook her head and smiled at the man, her
eyes flashing green. Jarris scratched his head. Darren walked to
the table and stood next to Celest, opposite Jarris. He bowed, and
took her hand to kiss it.
"My Lady, your Holiness," he said. "I am
Priestess Lunare`, and this is General Remani," she said, casting her
other hand in Jarris's direction. Both sat, not taking their eyes
from one another.
Jarris reached over and grabbed Celest's arm,
more violently then he intended to. She turned to him, fire in her
green eyes. How odd, I thought her eyes were brown, Jarris thought.
"What is going on?" he hissed at her. She
pulled her arm away and glared at him. "Please maintain the proper
distance, General," she said coldly.
I've had enough of this, Jarris thought as he
angrily pushed his chair back and stormed from the hall.
Celest shook her head, her eyes returning to
their normal brown. She had almost completely forgotten about the
man to her right. She rose, bowing to the Lord and Lady as a way of
excusing herself and calmly followed Jarris.
Darren was amused. Apparently this Priestess
was something of a dragon sensor herself. He could tell there was
something about her. She was certainly bed-worthy. Perhaps he
should try and see if she would warm him some night on the trail of
the creature.
But unfortunately, he could also tell she was
connected to the General and he to her. The General was certainly
vexed when Darren kissed the pale, shapely hand of the rare beauty.
Eryyn could not take her eyes off of Celest and
the two men she sat with. She listened to the small exchange between
the three, and noticed that the dragon hunter and the Priestess
shared the same accent. Funny, she hadn't noticed it earlier.
Orris was nosily eating and drinking next to
her. He smiled at her, and kissed her cheek, no dought leaving a
greasy lip print.





Jarris found himself in the empty courtyard.
The crescent moon had halfway risen above him. A small stone bench
sat below a willow next to the pond Eryyn had commanded. He sat,
thinking, wondering about what had just happened.
Celest came out of the castle to see Jarris on
the stone bench, head bowed in contemplation.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me", she
spoke, seeing him flinch at the sound of her voice. She walked to
him and sat next to him.
"Tell me why your eyes changed," he said
quietly. "They do that when I'm around someone from my home land.
Its' nothing special," she said.
Jarris sighed heavily and took her hand in his
and brought it to his lips. He kissed each fingertip and her perfect
palm. "Forgive me, I lost my head," Jarris said, raising his face to
look in her now brown eyes.
Celest smiled and laughed softly. "I certainly
hope that is not the case because it may be a problem come our next
midnight meeting," she said. Celest moved closer to him and kissed
his cheek.
Jarris framed her face with his hands and beheld
her ethereal beauty. "You are the most incredible woman in all the
Goddess's creation. And the most uncanny," he said softly. She
smiled, sadly he thought. Shes' always so sad.
They moved closer together and their lips met in
a fiery, passionate kiss. Jarris felt her tongue move to meet his.
She wrapped her arms around him, wanting to draw him in, wanting him
to be apart of her. Someone moaned, neither cared who. Both poured
themselves into that single kiss.
The door from the castle creaked open and the
two shot away from eachother. Eryyn poked her head out. "Don't
worry, I won't say a word about the two of you but the rest of the
court might and that is why I came out here to retrieve you. Orris
is making and speech and you should really be present for it," Eryyn
said, before disappearing into the castle.
Celest smiled, her eyes flashing momentarily,
recalling the Lady on the many occasions alone in the altar room.
Jarris turned back to Celest, kissing her again. He brushed his hand
across the back of her neck and brought it to rest between her full
breasts. Celest let her hand rest on his cheek, the other
comfortably settled on his belt buckle.
He broke away, knowing that if he didn't, they
would succumb to the passion that was surmounting. "We must go
back," he said, breathlessly. She signed, knowing he was right.
Arm in arm they walked back into the castle and
continued to the doors of the hall. Knowing there was no one else in
the area, the Priestess was struck with an idea. She smiled.
Celest grabbed Jarris and pulled his mouth to
hers violently passionate, falling back agenst one of the
tapestries. He pushed her agenst the wall and lifted her hips in his
hands. She wrapped her legs around his waist. Her mouth became like
a fever, and it terrorized what sound thinking was left in Jarris's
lust-filled head.
He lifted her dress and found his way under the
silk slip she wore. He sunk his fingers into the heat he found
there, and he swallowed her cry of shock. She unbuckled his belt
and pulled out his penis.
Jarris plunged into her, the warmth enveloping
him. They were both breathing raged, savoring every last bit of
flavor from the interlocking of their mouths. They came together,
both shivering and shuddering. Celest pulled her mouth from his, and
Jarris pulled himself out of her.
He set her gently back onto the floor and re-
buckled his pants. They smiled at eachother. Jarris offered his arm
and Celest daintily slipped her hand through it. He opened the hall
door.
The chamber was still in good-humored chaos,
centering on the Lord and Lady dancing in the center of the room.
Celest and Jarris calmly took their seats and continued their meals.
Darren looked at the two, seeing their flushed
faces gave him the only clue he needed. The Priestess and the
General caught eachother's eye and smiled coyly. He knew why they
had snuck off together. Darren now wanted nothing more than to taste
the Priestess, to know the feel of her plastered under him.
When she looked his way, he smiled and rose his
glass of wine to her. The evening continued in a positive and layed-
back manner.





Darren could not sleep. He tossed and turned,
the moon nearing its' fullness always affected his sleep. There was
something else, too. This ruby-haired Priestess. There was a flame
she controlled that seemed to have been lit beneath him, causing his
arms to ache to have her beneath him.
Two hours before dawn, Darren rose from the bed,
sheets in a tangle, and walked to the window. He pulled back the
curtain and gazed down on the still sleeping town of the castle. He
saw the night-watch-man pacing back and forth near the square, his
lantern the only light in the city.
Directly across from the palace was the heart of
Cairel, the Church of the Dark Symphony, and the home of the
Priestess he hungered for. There was something about her that was
very Otherworldly, a warning, perhaps, of some great unexplored power
she used to control men's thoughts. Women too, he corrected himself,
thinking back to Eryyn's fondness for her, and the amount of time
they spent together when Darren was still Drake.
He placed a hand on the cold stone of the palace
wall, as if bracing himself for a long thinking session. "Holy
Father, what am I to do?" Darren said, addressing his deity for the
first time in years.
An odd shimmering of color in the far corner of
the room caught his attention. "You are the hunter," a female voice
said. Never one to be surprised by anything, no matter how odd the
situation, Darren was vexed. He waited for the voice to speak again.
From the shimmering, a woman's form appeared.
She was a dangerous looking woman, with a dark beauty that stirred
the heart and soul. She raised her hand for him to remain silent.
Darren knew he faced the Dark Mother Goddess of the people.
She was dressed in dark silk that cascaded down
her body, pooling at her feet in a soft bunch. A mound of dark earth
colored hair lay coffed on her regal head. A long sword was buckled
at her slender waist, and paired daggars glinted from either side of
her hips. Laying on her back in two scabbards were two short swords,
matching the rest of her arsenal.
"You are the one who hunts my daughter, and her
creation," she spoke, her voice cold and sharp as her steel weapons.
Darren could only nod his head, for the only
time in his life, words would not come. The Goddess reached her hand
out and touched his chest, searching for his heart. She was taller
than he, and her eyes were void of cause, mouth set.
He shivered, trying to keep himself from
fainting from fear. "You have a blacker heart than I, and that is no
small accomplishment," she said, the corners of her mouth turning up
to form an evil smirk. "You lie to yourself, Hunter," she stated.
He took a step back, recoiling as if struck
physically by her words. "Do not step away from me, Hunter," she
said, eyes widening, hand returning to the hilt of her long sword.
Darren shook his head, waking from a strange
trance. "I-I," he stumbled, still at a loss for words.
"Your soul is damned, Hunter. You chase what
you can never destroy. My Lunar Dragon is destined to fall to
another, not to you. Forget your quarry, and switch your attention
back to what you truly desire Hunter. My daughter is too strong for
the likes of you. Lust filled fool," she almost whispered the last
insult.
"Why do you tell me this?" he asked, without
addressing her properly. The Goddess brought her studded-gloved hand
down hard on his cheek. "Mind your manners, Hunter," she chided,
that evil smirk returning to her lips.
Darren struggled to maintain his balance. A
strong bitch, he thought. Again, she struck him, on the opposite
cheek. "I am the evilest bitch you will ever encounter."
"I shall never give up my quest until the
creature's blood covers my blade," Darren said bravely, foolishly
though.
"Then it shall be your blood that soaks my altar
instead of your lady's," she said, truly satisfied with the look of
shock and fear that swept across the ingrate's face. Removing one of
the daggars, she swiftly cut Darren across the left cheek.
He cried out and flinched, bowing his head
down. When he looked up a second later, the room was empty, and he
was left with a growing pool of blood on the floor. "Damn," he
muttered.





Eryyn shot up from her bed. "Drake," she
breathed. Accustomed to her stirrings in the night, Orris absently
patted her shoulder and mumbled, "It's just a bad dream dear, go back
to sleep."
"No, Orris, wake up, this is important," she
said, shaking her slumbering husband. He groaned. "Damnit Orris,
WAKE UP!" she shouted, pushing him as hard as she could.
Being a round man, Orris rolled off the bed and
landed on the floor with a resounding thud. "Damnit woman, what is
it?" he roared, jumping up from the floor and glaring at his wife
with daggars in his eyes.
"Drake."
"What?"
"The young boy…..Drake!"
"Do you mean that youth we found years ago?"
"Yes."
"Well, what about him?"
"That knight who came to us today, the Vragon
man, he is Drake."
"Nonsense. The boy is dead by now," Orris said,
calmed and somewhat amused by his wife's thoughts. He layed back
into the bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. He turned away
from Eryyn's death-stare and tried to get back to sleep.
Eryyn jumped up, her face red, tears streaming
from her eyes. "Damn you Orris! You never listen to me! Here I am
trying to tell you something important, and what do you do? You go
back to sleep. `Maybe if I ignore her, she'll stop talking'. Well
guess what Orris, I'm damn serious!" she shouted at him, tossing a
pillow at his head and storming out of their chambers.
Orris snorted. "Good riddance," he said
sleepily, before snoring again.





The sunrays were already coming through the
arrow slit windows as Eryyn walked briskly down the hallway. Still,
the palace was cold and she wished she would have had the sense to
grab a shawl or cloak.
Her mind on other things, Eryyn almost ran smack
into Darrin, taking a peek out his door to find out who was pacing
the halls so early.
"My Lady," he said bowing, "why are you up so
early?" Eryyn looked fully into his eyes, searching for what she
knew was there. They glinted with a youthful spark, and she knew her
thought had been correct.
"Why did you tell me your name was Drake?" she
asked flatly.
Darrin stared at her in shock. He looked up one
way, then the other. "It is a long story, and perhaps you should
come into my rooms and sit while I'll tell it."
Eryyn was shivering, and Darrin could see how
the coldness affected her through the light fabric of her dressing
gown. "I do have a fire going."
The Lady shrugged and followed him into the warm
room. He closed the door behind her and gestured for her to sit in
one of the large chairs that flanked the stone fireplace. After
seating herself, Darrin grabbed a blanket from his bed and wrapped it
around her shoulders. He took the pot of water from the fire and
poured some into a mug. He handed this to Eryyn, and sat himself
across from her.
"Many years ago, a dragon appeared in my land.
It burned my mother's shrine to the Sun Goddess, and killed one of my
aunts. My Uncle the King knighted me and sent me after the
creature. I followed it here, to Cairel Valley. I fought with the
beast until sunrise, when it, heavily wounded, alighted and I,
equally wounded, collapsed.
"It was at this time that you and your-" he
choked on the word, "husband happened to find me."
Eryyn looked at Darrin, straining to see the boy
she knew. She saw it in his eyes, in the dower quirk of his lips.
"One look at you, and I knew I was destined for
a fire more dangerous than the dragon's," Darrin confessed.
"What do you mean by that?" Stark realization
hit her.
"I love you, Eryyn. I have from the first
moment I opened my eyes and saw your face above me. I felt my heart
and soul leave me and fly to you."
The Lady sat in shock. Her husband had never
said anything so, so poetic before. "Is that why you came back?" she
asked.
"Partially yes, and partially no. I followed
the dragon away from here that night, and lost its' trail. I
journeyed into the frozen lands of the north, and all during this
time I dreamed of you, of making you mine no matter what the cost. I
returned here after making up my mind to see you again, after
deciding I would wage war to have you by my side, even if it cost me
death," he said.
Darrin knew he had won a battle over Eryyn's
heart. The softness that washed over her face made him ache to hold
her, to touch her brightened cheeks, to kiss her lips. Tears
streamed from her eyes, and she let out a sob, burying her face in
her hands.
He rushed to her and pulled her from the chair
and into his arms. She was crying, her face tear streaked, and her
body shaking. Darrin wiped the tears from her eyes and tilted her
chin so he could gaze at her.
Eryyn reached out a hand and gently touched a
red gash across Darrin's left cheek. He bent down and kissed her.
He wrapped his arms around her slender frame, never wanting to let
her go. Returning his kiss, Eryyn ran her hands up his back, letting
him take control.
Darrin lifted her in his arms and carried her to
his bed, laying her gently down while still kissing her. "Do not
think less of me," she whispered as he pulled her dressing gown away
and feasted on the rest of her.





It was noon by the time Orris rose and dressed.
He called a High Council meeting to discuss sending out the new
knight and the army in search of the cursed dragon. He summoned
Celest to ask her aid in the campaign. She agreed and left to
prepare herself and let the General know they would leave as soon as
possible.
As the Council filled out of the chamber, Orris
wondered what had become of his wife. He remembered how she left
their room, and he thought she had fled to the Church, as she often
did when mad at him, but when asked, Celest said the Lady had not
been seen.
Orris shrugged and forgot about her in the
process of seeing to the army's needs.





Darrin woke first, happy to find his dream come
true. Wrapped in his arms was the naked woman he loved. She was
sleeping soundlessly, her breath quiet, her face relaxed. He knew
they should rise and attend to things. But she looked so peaceful.
And he wanted to make sure it wasn't just another one of his
fantasies. He kissed her lightly.
Her eyelids fluttered slightly and she opened
her eyes. "Darrin," she said quietly. "Yes, my dearest," he said,
leaning in to better hear her.
"What time is it?" she asked, rising abruptly.
She tossed away the sheets and searched for her dressing gown. "Its'
over by the fire," Darrin said.
Eryyn pulled the sheer covering over her
head. "I must go, and see to Orris," she said, and was out the door
before Darrin could say anything else. He smiled, knowing that he
had secured his prize and that nothing would take it away from him.
He rose and dressed, smelling nothing but the Lady.
He walked down the hall into the main chamber,
and found Orris bent over a table spread with maps. The General and
the Priestess stood with him. Darrin still felt the pull to Celest,
but it was lessened for some reason. She turned and smiled at him,
bemused by the still-red cut on his cheek.
"Glad you finally decided to join us, Knight,"
Jarris said. He smiled and patted Darrin's back as he approached the
table.
"I apologize, but I sleep horribly inside
walls," Darrin commented. "No need to make excuses, Knight. But we
are prepared to go on campaign agenst the creature," Orris said,
apparently distracted.
"Yes, we leave as soon as you are ready," Celest
said, her accent familiar to Darrin's ears as his own. "In that
case, let me retire, and I shall return in short order," he said.
"Go then, and smartish too, so that we might
leave before dark," Orris called after Darrin, who was already half
way down the hall.





Celest and Jarris retreated from the prying
eyes into the seclusion of the Priestess's large tent on the very
edge of Orris's camp. They giggled as young lovers do when escaping
the eyes of elders. Celest looked out from the tent flap, surveying
the area, making sure no one saw the two go in together. She giggled
again and closed the tent flap.



Darren saw them though. He had the same mind
to take Eryyn with him on a moonlit stroll near the water's edge on
the other side of the camp. But she was in Orris's tent, no doubt
sharing his bed when she should be at his side. He shuddered at the
thought of Orris burying his weight into her. He decided to see if
free any way.



Eryyn looked again at her husband as he drained
his fourth bottle of brandy. How fond he was of the drink now. It
had be something with the added stress of being on campaign after the
great beast. She was sitting at a small table in the corner of the
six-room tent. A stump of candle was burning before her, and she
stared at it without seeing it. What she saw was Darren, her
handsome knight, tangling the sheets with her. She laid her head on
her hand and sighed. When was it her turn for absolute happiness?
"I'm for bed, love," Orris slurred, stumbling
to one of the curtained off rooms. Eryyn heard a thump followed by a
sharp curse agenst her traveling trunk. Snoring soon came from the
room. She sighed again.




Orris couldn't believe how good the new brandy
tasted. He loved the sweetness of it, along with the heavenly
intoxication that came with it. He loved having his head swim, and
having brought several cases if the brandy, he felt nothing but the
need to drink it by the bottle. He looked at his beautiful wife
across the table, the candle letting him view her skin with new light.
She had no wrinkles, no age marred her. He
loved the way her nose crinkled when he did something wrong, or how
her brows furred when she was angry with him, which usually didn't
last very long. How he loved her, his Queen, his Eryyn.
Feeling tired, he excused himself and headed
for his bed. The bedroom of the tent was dark, and he had no way of
seeing the over-sized trunk of Eryyn's things near the foot of the
bed. He tripped over this, and went headfirst into the bed, cursing
as sleep overtook him, his dreams filled with visions of his wife
running through meadows, naked.




Jarris licked his lips before joining them with
Celest's. The tension of the last few hours caught up with them and
they were ravenous for eachother. Celest's tent was far smaller than
Orris's, with only one room, the bed area separated from the table
and chairs by netting.
The General backed the Priestess agenst the
table, and smoothed his hand all down her warm body. She wore a long
black skirt spilt up both legs to the waist, and a black corset tied
loosely around her slim figure, further enlarging her breasts.
Jarris lifted her hips and placed her on the
table. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer.
She in turn moved her hand to his leggings, where he throbbed and
pulsed. They both fought for air between kisses, lips stealing what
little breath there was to be had.
Celest lay back on the table, taken Jarris with
her. She arched her back as his hands again roamed over her,
unhooking the clasps on her corset. He pulled the garment away from
her milky white breasts, caressing each with first his hand, then his
tongue and lips. She shuddered each time he touched her, already
running out the draped door and Celest rose, almost forgetting to put
her top back on.




Darren found himself outside Orris's tent,
watching the slender figure he knew to be Eryyn's. He heard
snoring. He shook his head and went to the wall of the tent that
betrayed her position in the candlelight. He gently scratched on the
fabric. No response from inside.



Eryyn listened again. Yes, there was most
definitely a scratching from the outside of the tent. She stood up
and walked towards it. "Eryyn?"



Darren was disappointed. She didn't hear him,
surely. Maybe she didn't want to see him, she was ignoring him in
lee of her husband, damn drunken slob he was. He heard a rustling,
thinking it only the wind, he was surprised to find soft lips upon
the back of his neck.
"My knight," she said quietly, allowing him to
take her into his arms. The entire camp was sleeping, and no one was
about.
Darren led Eryyn past the slumbering guards and
down to the river's edge. He pulled her shoulders towards him and
kissed her. Not with the hunger he had shown before, but a reserved
heat.
The Lady let herself melt into her knight, the
man who freed her from her marital bonds. They sunk to the ground,
ignoring the fact the air was cool of the glistening water. They
started slowly undressing one another, Eryyn lost in Darren's eyes,
and he in hers.
She laid back, pulling him to her. His body
warmed hers where the cool air touched, teased. He settled himself
next to her, wanting to gaze on her shapely form. She ran her hands
across his broad shoulders, closing her eyes to visualize the
contours of his muscles.
Darren stroked her neck, inching his way closer
so that they touched in one unbroken line from chest to knee. She
opened her eyes and smiled, face full of radiant light from love.
They kissed. Each seemed to be savoring the
other down to even the smallest flavor.
Eryyn pulled away. She had a wicked sheen in
her luminous eyes. She rolled Darren so he was on his back. Eryyn
bent over him, kissing her way down from his neck. Her tongue
slipped out when she reached the bottom of her journey. Her mouth
caressed the softest and yet hardest part of her knight, discovering
no matter how slow he went, he was urgent and ready for her. Again
she pulled away, quietly chuckling to hear his growl in protest.
In one movement, she was on him, taking him
deep inside her. They both gasped, him in pleasant shock, her in
joy. She rocked back and forth, the slightest movement sending
hundreds of sensations through her body. Darren's eyes rolled back
into his head as he let himself be slowly taken.



Orris woke up, groggy. He could hear
shouts. "Eryyn?" No answer. Blast that woman! He rose and dressed
himself, a task in its' self as he had a headache that pounded at the
temples. She was no where in the tent. She could possibly be with
the men, he thought. And it cheered him to think of her, riding with
the army like any other soldier. She and Celest, unlike any other
women in creation.
He listened again, just to make sure he wasn't
wasting his sleeping time. Sure enough, lots of voices calling to
one another. He did not feel the heat, so it wasn't a dragon attack,
what else could it possibly be? He wrapped his cloak round his large
shoulders and walked out into the night.
The entire camp was in an uproar. Men ran to
and fro, General Remani in the center of the chaos, looking as
dumbfounded as Orris felt.
"Jarris!" Orris called out. Jarris heard the
Lord, and walked across the field to him. "Yes, my Lord?" "What in
the Goddess's name is going on here?" Orris asked, thinking of no
other way to put it.
Jarris shuffled his feet. "Well, uh, I really
don't know, sir. I came out of Cel- my tent, hearing the shouts, and
I found this."
"Well man, lets' find out what the problem is
so I can get back to bed. By the way Remani, have you seen Eryyn?
Its' the damnedest thing, I can't find her anywhere," Orris said,
placing his hand on Jarris's shoulder and leading him away and to the
main barracks.
One of the Captains shot to attention at the
sight of the General, not really knowing who the Lord was. "General-
" he started, silenced by Jarris's out reached hand. "Now Piper,
tell me what the hells' going on," Jarris interrupted.
Piper looked around, eyes shifting back and
forth. He leaned in; trying to keep his words secret form everyone
else in the area. "Sir, I think, um, well," he lowered his voice and
leaned in further, "we think there is a Molovain spy here, trying to
learn our secrets, possibly an asassination attempt."
Both Orris and Jarris stared at the man in
shock. "Molovian? You've got to be kidding me, we're at peace with
them, Eryyn having been their uncrowned Princess and all," Orris
said. Piper glared at him, thinking him to be no more than a
journeyman or wanderer. Jarris kicked Piper. "Be respectful of your
Lord, Captain Piper," Jarris growled at him.
"Well, what good will come of finding this spy
if the camp is in chaos like this?" Orris questioned the
Captain. "Well, um, sir, um," the man was obviously nervous of
talking to the Lord, "we were hoping, that is the South Captain and
I, that would be, let me think, I believe that is Caros this week but
then it could be-"
"For Goddess sake man, just tell me!" Orris
shouted, his head pounding. "We were hoping to flush the spy out
sir!" Captain Piper answered, shaking with fear. Jarris shook his
head and buried it in his hands. He heaved a great sigh.
"Why didn't you come and get me?" he asked,
exasperated. The Captain shrugged his shoulders and walked away
briskly, not wanting to be near the two men of such importance, or be
criticized again for his stupidity.
Orris looked to the General for
answers. "Don't look at me," Jarris said, voice muffled by his
hands. He rose his head, just a little, and stared at a spot on the
ground.
"What if there is a spy, Remani? What do we
do? How do we find out if there is anyone, is there a remote
possibility that there is a Molovian spy somewhere abouts?"



Annara Lamni. The Molovian King's High
Priestess and the spy of Captain Piper's story. Annara was disguised
as a man, trying to infiltrate Jarris's army, a task much easier than
she originally thought. She laughed inwardly at the men trying to
flush out a spy.
She was tall, wiry. Her hair was normally
chopped just below her ears, the bottom turned out to imitate wings.
But now it lay hidden under a hood and veil, to conceal her fine bone
structure. Eyes almost black peered from beneath long lashes and
perfectly arched eyebrows.
Celest's senior by 8 years at least, they had
studied together in Varishnov, the religious holy city, for their
titles and positions. Although lacking the outright voluptuousness
of her crimson haired counterpart, Annara had a sensuality that was
all her own and completely intoxicating.
Sitting in a tree, she watched the camp with
growing interests. She watched her once lover Celest retreat with
the hansom General to a tent away from the rest of the camp. She
watched the knight Darren Vragon fight with himself and loose, taking
the Lady Eryyn to the quiet lake.
She smiled, content to watch the chaos and
drama that unfolded. Annara looked to the moon, half full now,
dreading the time it would be bright and fill the sky. She shared a
secret with Celest, one that neither knew about the other, one that
would be soon revealed to the people of Cairel Valley.



Darren and Eryyn laid in eachother's arms,
momentarily exhausted after their small encounter. The chaos of the
camp could not reach them near the lake. They held to eachother with
fierceness that frightened yet did not surprise either.
The knight could feel his lady love shiver
within his grasp. He held her tightly, so tightly he feared he would
injure her. Her breathing was soft and regular, he knew sleep had
taken her. There were small tears rolling down her beautiful cheeks,
and he knew her conscience troubled her.
After all, she had spent her entire life with
Orris and knew no other man but him. She did love him, but in a
different context than her beloved knight. Everytime her body joined
with Darren, a bit of her died. She felt a terrifying completeness
with him that threatened to engulf her soul.
Even in her sleep, these things troubled her.
She hated to hurt Orris in any way. Darren kissed her petal-soft
lips.
He tensed suddenly. He felt the dragon close,
along with another presence. Darren thought back to his audience
with the Dark Mother. What had she ment by "your Lady's blood shall
soak my altar"? Was she sending another of her unholy children to
take away the only thing that mattered in his life?
A distant roll of thunder brought him out of his
little nightmare. Clouds were packed tightly overhead, and the moon
was no longer visible. He gently shook his Lady. "Love, wake up, or
else we'll get drenched."
Eryyn sleepily opened one eye and groaned at
him. "Why?" she asked. The rain began to fall even before the final
sound of the question left her lips. They both rose and rushed to
gather their clothing before they were soaked to the bone in the
downpour. She laughed and kissed her knight's lips as they ran back
to the camp, fingers locked.



Annara sat in her tent, a wild rainsquall
pounding the outside. She was cross-legged on the floor in front of
a single burning candle. A short green tunic was wrapped around her,
bordered all around by double stripes of black fabric. Her eyes are
closed in concentration and she rocks back and forth, seemly in a
trance.
"Holy Dark Mother, hear me now," she
chanted. "Holy Dark Mother, give me the Sight, I must know the
outcome of the insuing battle between the good and evil forces."
"Daughter Wolf," the wind carried a female
voice, one not unknown to Annara. "Do not concern yourself with the
future, worry about the now."
Annara felt as if a physical weight had been
removed from her shoulders and she leaned forward to blow out the
candle.
The tent was dark now, something completely
normal for her. With so much chaos and turmoil in her soul, the
darkness was the only thing she could consume, that would not consume
her. Nara reflected for only a moment before donning her male
disguise again and heading out into the night.
One of the young male guards tilted his head to
her as she walked by, and she reciprocated by making a small
inclination of her head. She tried not to smile around the men; her
lips were always a dead give away to her sex.
She looked up at the cloud-obscured moon, which
would be full in a night. She shivered at the thought of concealing
her secret from everyone….it would be ugly if she couldn't control
her lust….

I do, you know I do.  I say it all the damn time.

 

"War cannot be avoided until the physical cause for its recurrence is removed and this, in the last analysis, is the vast extent of the planet on which we live. Only through annihilation of distance in every respect, as the conveyance of intelligence, transport of passengers and supplies and transmission of energy will conditions be brought about some day, insuring permanency of friendly relations. What we now want is closer contact and better understanding between individuals and communities all over the earth. Peace can only come as a natural consequence of universal enlightenment." ~ Nikola Tesla  

A beatnik possibly?  An inventor known for the 'deathray' experiements wanting peace?  Of course he did!  Just like any of the people who worked on the Manhattan project. 

I will post a real entry!  This is more or less me just being awake at an un-Goddessly hour, and not having a thing to do!