*
Nao proved to be an indispensable aide. As Jok had already noticed indirectly from Tevi’s lessons, Nao was a master in making mirrors. He used any contact, no matter how fleeting, to sap energy from his counterpart. A seemingly accidental bump against someone in the corridor... energy. Guiding a student’s hand through a spell during class... energy. Giving a pretty young woman a playful clap on the rear... energy. Taking a student’s mirror in his hand to demonstrate a minor spell... energy. The amounts were small enough that no one noticed but he collected quite a bit of power throughout the course of a day. He was able to harvest even more from the training fights in the arena, both directly from the fight and from the crystals. But you could get the most energy from sex, Nao explained.
“It is very simple. When they climax, people open themselves wide and shoot out their energy like fireworks,” Nao explained. “If you are skilled, you can harvest this energy completely without risk. It even works without a mirror. It’s easier with a mirror, of course; you can harvest a bit more reserve energy with a mirror. Of course, you mustn’t show the other person that you are using a mirror, or they will shield themselves. You should hide the mirror somewhere on your body where it isn’t noticeable, but where you can touch your partner with it without risk. It doesn’t have to be a large mirror. On the contrary, the smaller, the better.” He showed Jok a few good hiding places. He could hide mirrors in his clothes, on pieces of jewelry, under his shoes, even in his hair. Contrary to soul mirrors, work mirrors were completely harmless to their owner.
Jok immediately tested Nao’s suggestions in practice. His sexual experiences to date were limited to a few minor encounters with the servant girls. The Greens seemed too young and the Blues had only laughed at his shy advances. Now that he was an adept, things were very different. He called and the young women had to obey. The women passed through his room in rapid succession.
A few days later, he appeared in Nao’s room somewhat confused. “I am doing something wrong. I have less energy afterward than I did before. At least, I usually do.”
“Amateur!” Nao said mockingly. “Typical. You’re letting the women rob you of your wits! The whole thing is a game and you have to master the rules. You have to make sure you don’t climax and if you do, then as quickly as possible. In the moment you orgasm, you give your energy to the woman, even if most of them don’t notice. You mustn’t stop after that. You have to make sure she has an orgasm. That is the only way to get the energy back and collect hers as well.”
Jok didn’t have to be told twice. Reliably bringing a woman to climax, however, was easier said than done. He was too embarrassed, however, to ask Nao for advice. He ultimately snuck over to Marada’s room one evening and knocked on the door. Marada let him in. She listened to his problem in silence. “How can I truly arouse a woman?” Jok asked in the end.
Marada mustered his body. The young man was well built. He was a bit small, but pleasantly proportioned with a friendly, open face. Still silent, she stood up, let her hair down and let her dress fall to the floor.
That night, Jok learned everything he needed to know to please a woman.
After that, it was child’s play. Jok called the Blues to his bed, one after the other. None of the women had to be forced. On the contrary. Marada’s instruction had been very useful.
Finally, Nao told him it was time to try a Green. Jok was surprised. “But they are still far too weak and usually too young.”
“Most of them,” Nao responded, “but not all of them. Try it with Lesora. She has an interesting energy structure.”
The young Green looked distraught when she entered Jok’s room. She had a narrow face with high cheekbones, shimmering, shoulder-length, jet-black hair and gentle, light-brown eyes. She had to be around fifteen monsoon seasons old, but she had the body of a woman. Her energy structures did, indeed, have an interesting pattern. When he looked at her from a magical perspective, she looked like a light, rhythmical spray of sparks, underscored by a rising and falling buzzing in his head. Nao had recommended good quality.
Jok took the young woman in his arms and gently stroked her. “It’s okay, my pretty little one, it’s nothing. We just want to have a nice night. I won’t hurt you, on the contrary, I am certain you will enjoy it.”
Lesora relaxed noticeably under his gentle touch, but as he led her to his bed, her body grew rigid again. Jok thought for a moment, then changed tactics. No bed. He took Lesora into his office and opened the door to the balcony. It was a warm evening. The nightjars darted through the night sky on nimble wings and sang their quiet, lamenting songs. The cowbells from a grazing herd rang out in the distance. Every now and then, they heard the sleepy moo of an ox from the direction of the stalls. The scene was the epitome of peace.
Jok fetched a thick carpet from his room, laid it on the narrow balcony and let Lesora sit down. Then, he briefly disappeared into his room and came back with a teapot and two cups. The relaxing aroma of jasmine filled the night air. He sat down next to Lesora and began to talk. He told her stories he remembered from home. No one had ever listened to him so intently. Nao was right. This young woman was something special. Back home in his village, he definitely would have fallen in love with her... perhaps that was possible here, too?
The tone of their conversation changed subtly. Lesora began to relax and smile at him.
“I wove a net out of moonbeams...” he quoted the beginning of a well-known love poem. She continued, dreamily. “But you slipped through the mesh and I watched you flee into the night wind.”
They took turns reciting the poet’s dulcet words.
As the night air grew cold, Lesora allowed Jok to move closer to her without resisting. Her physical proximity reminded him of his original intention. His fingers slowly meandered into her robe. Lesora only stiffened for a moment, then her body trembled and softened, and grew supple beneath his fingers. Jok pushed her robe aside and gently pressed her upper body back until she was lying before him on the soft carpet. He opened his belt. She shivered again, but this time, because she was cold. He quickly lay down on top of her, his red robe enveloping them both like a soft blanket. He concentrated. Lesora still wasn’t completely relaxed. He saw the turbulent eddies in her energy. Well, there were ways to relieve her tension.
As his fingers meandered between her legs and gently caressed her, he let his tongue dance across her breasts. Lesora sighed quietly. Jok moved his hand up. Lesora’s body moved beneath him. Her energy eddies had given way to large, gleaming ribbons. She dug her nails into his back, arching up beneath him raising her hips toward him so his fingers slid into her body. Before he had even gotten started, she released her tension in a short, powerful, fiery orgasm.
Jok forgot about magic and the mirror. For a moment, he allowed his instincts to guide him. He let himself fall into the aftershocks of Lesora’s orgasm. Lesora’s hands meandered to his hips and pulled him down. Her body was an echo of his movements. It was almost too easy, and it was wonderful. The moment he gushed into her, their energy pathways merged for the briefest of moments. Tiny fireworks danced through the night as Jok lay in Lesora’s arms and world lost all meaning.
When he was able to think again, he saw Lesora smiling. Her teeth and eyes shimmered in the light of the stars.
“More!” she said and Jok obeyed without hesitation.
She was now fully charged with energy, hers and his. Her energy structures danced around him, stroking him as gently as her hands, encouraging him. He didn’t wait long, and soon, he was playing her body like an instrument. Lesora was already well on her way to another orgasm. This time, Jok didn’t allow himself to be overwhelmed by his primitive emotions. Lesora’s energy enticed him like a siren’s song. He wanted her. No one had every presented him with such beautiful energy structures before. They were something special and he simply had to have them. He stretched out his hand for the tea kettle, looking for the little mirror he had hidden beneath it. Lesora moaned beneath h
im. His fingers jerked involuntarily. The teapot fell over and shattered. He had to have the mirror right away! As he continued to bring Lesora’s body to a boil, his hand searched through the shards. Ouch! One of the porcelain shards dug into his thumb. Unimportant. No time. Where was the mirror? Lesora was almost there. There! He had it! He pressed the little mirror against Lesora’s chest as he brought her to climax. Lesora let out a little cry as she came. The cry transformed into a horrifying moan as the mirror lit up and her energy flowed into it like a white-hot ball. The next moment, Jok hit the floor with a thud. The young woman had disappeared. A large mirror lay beneath him.
Shocked, Jok shot back and staggered to his feet. How had that happened? He hastily threw on his robe, grabbed the mirror, which was warm and heavy in his hand, and hurried to Nao’s room.
Nao appeared, very sleepy, at the door. His annoyed expression immediately brightened when he saw what Jok was holding in his hand. “Congratulations on your new mirror! Les, I assume?”
“You knew! You knew what would happen! Why did you tell me to pick her? You did it on purpose! How could that even happen? I didn’t want to turn her into a mirror! She was so kind; she trusted me!” Tears ran down Jok’s face.
“Come in.” Nao pushed him into his room and closed the door. Then, he maneuvered him to a chair and sat down in front of him. “Okay, now let’s see. Tell me exactly what the two of you did.”
Jok told him. He wasn’t sure how Nao was able to recognize words in the chaos but, apparently, he had told the story coherently enough.
Nao nodded. “So, you were bleeding and you touched the mirror with your bloody hand. And you had both had an orgasm before that, and your energies were intermingled. And you really wanted her energy. You activated your mirror with a lot of power, and, at the same time, you created a classic short-circuit between your energies and the mirror. Since she was the weaker of the two of you and you didn’t protect her, the mirror absorbed her. A simple and, moreover, pleasant method for creating a soul mirror.
Jok hesitated. “You knew something like this would happen?”
“I didn’t know, but I hoped. The probability was very high. By the way, any bodily fluid will do, once the energies have been built up high enough, and a mirror short-circuits the two of you, but it works best with blood.”
Jok arose in disbelief. “Is that how you made your soul mirrors? The many soul mirrors you have?”
“Not all of them, but many, yes,” Nao said. “It is easier than in the arena. And it feels great. Tell me you didn’t like it in the moment.”
Jok hurried to the door.
“Wait,” Nao called after him. He turned halfway around. Nao came and held out the mirror. “Don’t forget Les; she is yours now!”
Dazed, Jok took the mirror Nao pressed into his hand and dragged his feet as he walked back to his room. He placed the mirror on the windowsill. Then, he staggered backward to his bed and fell back onto it. He could still see the mirror. The waning moon shone its light on the glass, painting a bright spot on the ceiling of the room.
Jok’s thoughts spun in circles. He had done something abhorrent. But was Nao right? Hadn’t it been fun and felt great? He thought of Lesora’s energies and how enticing they had seemed to him. Now, she was trapped in the mirror and her energies were his. As were her memories, which slowly bloomed in his mind. He could work with them, test out the possibilities they offered and feel and use them as he pleased. Had he wanted it to happen? The others would fear him like they did the other Reds. Was it worth it? What had he become?
The Assassination
Ioro wished he could plug his ears. After the peaceful days at the Temple of Ganae Elisam, the capital was pandemonium. Apparently, today was market day. The guards were having trouble clearing a path for the two princes through the bustling crowd. A small dog, followed by a boy nearly just as small, flitted under Tera’s horse. The head guard spat out a socially unacceptable curse and held the rearing gelding in the air by the reins until the boy was out of the danger zone.
The caller in the front doubled his efforts. “Make way for His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Tolioro and his entourage!” he shouted into the busy morning with all his might.
Most of the people willingly obeyed his command and bowed respectfully as soon as they noticed the colors of the Falcon Throne, but the guards still had to use their whips more than once to clear a path through the overflowing streets.
Tolioro sat his white horse like a statue. Ioro pulled his horse back a bit to make more room for his brother. The crown prince looked good and the royal colors of their house, aquamarine and sun yellow, suited him very well. The cheers quickly grew into a din. A few young women waved from the flower merchants’ stands. Tolioro turned his head and greeted them by slightly raising his hand. “Long live Crown Prince Tolioro!”
The other people at the market enthusiastically picked up the call. One of the women reached into the flowers. Petals rained down on the prince.
Tera cursed again, but quietly. These stupid idiots. How was he to notice a hurled dagger, or worse, in this rain of flowers? If only they had already safely delivered the two princes to the palace!
Ioro saw something move out of the corner of his eye. Something about it made him feel uneasy. He spurred his horse closer to Tolioro and instinctively grasped his sword. There! Under the cover of a wave of flowers, something long and dark and was flying toward them!
Ioro’s hand jerked up, holding his sword. He heard a clanging sound. The next moment, sharp little splinters were raining down on him. His horse screamed in pain and spooked. The market transformed into a tumultuous riot. The guards immediately closed ranks to form a tight ring around the prince while Tera tried to follow the assassin with half a dozen other soldiers. People scattered in fear, trying to get to safety and away from the swords and hooves. Screams rang out from all sides.
Ioro finally managed to gain control of his panicked horse. He looked around. Tolioro was not seriously injured. He had only suffered a few minor cuts and looked very annoyed. The guards surrounded them in a tight circle and were protecting them with their shields and their horses’ bodies.
“Let me through!” Ioro demanded.
A gap opened in the circle of guards. Ioro spurred his horse. A battlefield spread out before him. Stands had been destroyed and the dead and wounded lay scattered across the entire road. Many people had simply been trampled in the ensuing panic. Ioro clenched his teeth. What a great welcome home!
Tera came back into sight. He slowly rode toward Ioro. He stopped his horse in front of him and shook his head. The assassin had escaped.
“To the palace, quickly!” Ioro assumed command as though it were second nature to him.
They had barely made it a third of the way when reinforcements arrived. In grim silence, the unit rode into the palace courtyard with the princes. Tolioro dismounted as soon as he arrived at the outdoor stairs. He imperiously called for the duty officer. The commander of the palace guard, a gray-haired veteran, stepped forward and bowed reverently.
“Under whose command are the guards who accompanied us?” Tolioro asked.
“Tera’s unit is under Timatoda’s command,” the commander responded.
Tolioro looked down at him with an icy expression. “The men in that unit shall be executed immediately. Their leader and Timatoda will be blinded with glowing-hot irons and then beheaded. They failed. The kingdom has no use for failures. As for Timatoda’s soldiers, they have clearly been poorly trained. Take every tenth man from his command and execute them as well. That will teach the others to perform their duties with more care in the future.”
The commander of the guard sank to his knees and pressed his forehead to the ground. “It shall be done as you command, Your Highness.”
Tolioro strode up the stairs. He turned around at the top. “And with respect to you, commander of the guard, in honor of your age and prior merits, I will allow you to choose an honorable form of suicide.�
�� Then, he disappeared into the palace.
The commander arose and bowed toward the palace again. “Yes, Your Highness!” he said, his voice quiet.
Ioro guided his horse forward. Tera and his soldiers were already kneeling before their horses, their heads bowed, waiting for the judgment to be carried out. What a waste!
As he was tending to his cuts and changing out of his blood-stained clothing, a messenger came and summoned him to his royal father. Kanata was not particularly well-known for his patience. Ioro quickly threw on a fresh tunic. Then he made his way to the palace.
Kanata received his sons in his private study. He was pacing back and forth impatiently when Ioro entered. Tolioro was already there, lounging in a wide armchair in front of the desk. Kanata paused. He glared at Ioro, who immediately halted and saluted.
“What exactly happened at the market?” Kanata asked. Ioro told him about the incident.
Kanata perked up. “Splinters?”
“I had the impression we were dealing with a mirror artifact.”
“Damn. The Crystal Chamber must be behind this!” Kanata started pacing impatiently again. It sounded like he was talking to himself. “The Crystal Chamber... nothing but problems. Accursed sorcerers. They think they can assume power in my realm. But attacking the crown prince...” He spun around. “Why didn’t the on-duty officer mention that?”
Ioro responded without batting an eye. “The on-duty officer didn’t take over until after the incident and didn’t have any information about what happened at the market. The officer responsible for the incident was executed for failure to perform his duty.”
Royal Falcon Page 14