Bending over, she opened her mouth and evacuated her interior of the earlier evenings tea, tinged with the thicker fluid of Yuba's ejaculate. An unglamorous act, perhaps, but no different than retreating to the bathroom after lovemaking; it was simply a matter of necessity.
Standing upright again, Ifurita looked up at the stars, her thoughts genuinely at peace. To put it in a human context once again; she was happy.
* * *
As one would expect, their lovemaking grew more sophisticated as time went on; but so too did their relationship in general. Yuba turned his scientific curiosity from the hidden machinery to the garden itself, becoming convinced it was a living link to the El-Hazard of old, and may be the key to making the world verdant once more. Ifurita began to share his interest in his work, and became an active partner in both his research and the more ordinary chores of day to day life.
A curious consequence of their physical relations was revealed the very next time Yuba went to wind her. Having inserted the staff, Ifurita was wracked with a series of orgasms the likes she'd never thought possible. Both found the incident rather amusing, but they also learned to incorporate the time of winding as a ritual in their lovemaking.
Years passed, and they grew comfortable together, somehow never becoming bored with each other's company. They created some very inventive games to play, and Yuba had even become something of an amateur storyteller. One of the fondest memories she had was when Yuba described their having a fictional daughter. He told her all about how she would finder herself pregnant, her belly gradually swelling at the months past until finally giving birth. Ifurita, not having real breasts, wouldn't be able to feed her, but that would be alright as they discover she inherited her mother's keyhole; they'd simply wind her! They spent a surprisingly long time debating what her name would be. It was all in fun, of course, but she wondered if there wasn't a tinge of sadness behind his telling of that story. Even though he never said otherwise, Ifurita believed there must have been some desire on his part to have a real child -if only as a matter of biological imperative. If she'd any regrets about their time together, it was that she was incapable of doing this for him -or indeed, for herself.
Still more years passed. Yuba's face gradually acquired gentle lines around the eyes, her hair receding back, his voice becoming subtly deeper. She remained unchanged of course. She continued to guard the garden, chasing away the rare visitor who accidentally stumbled upon their private hidden enclave. Yuba once remarked that her vociferousness in keeping the garden clear of strangers was borne of a jealous desire to keep him to herself. She suspected he just might be right. The more he changed, the more she wanted things to remain the same.
But time would not stand still, not even for her.
* * *
The visitors arrived by accident on a damaged air skiff. They wouldn't leave at her warning, and to her alarm, even called her directly by name. In the ensuing melee, the slim dark haired youth had managed to grab hold of her staff -and entered her mind.
Thus she met Makoto Mizuhara and his companions. A surprising union, for not only was he from another world with the same power of synchronization as Yuba, but he had met the original model of Ifurita.
Soon after their arrival came Kalia; or more precisely, the DemonGod Kalia, living key to the Trigger of Destruction. It was the very event she had been constructed for. Long buried dormant, the response program now dictated Ifurita's actions. For the first time, she was forced to say good bye to Yuba. As difficult as that was, the battle with Kalia proved to be even more so. The dark skinned DemonGod had withstood every attack Ifurita could throw at her. Kalia then countered by draining away all of her energy through the vulnerable portal of her keyhole, her consciousness locked away into darkness.
She should have been dead, but Makoto and Yuba found a way to restore her power. It was Yuba, winding her with the PowerKey Staff, who used only his sheer force of will to overcome the seal Kalia had placed on her, releasing her from that abyss. But, the dangerous effort had come at the expense of his own life. With Makoto's aid, she was able to defeat Kalia, the activated Trigger destroyed. But, in the aftermath...
* * *
Twilight was giving way to darkness. Laid out over the grave, Ifurita's body remained unmoving, eyes closed. If anyone had been present to touch her skin, she would have felt quite cold. No longer capable of movement, her entire awareness of the physical world began to fade as the last of her energy reserves continued to ebb.
Gradually, she lost all sense of time as well. It was as if she was locked in a room, the walls of oblivion closing in around her mind. She thought for a panicked moment that this was to be ultimate fate, that death would truly be the end after all.
But, it wasn't. Expecting to be enveloped in the numb blackness of non-existence, she found herself surrounded by light. Looking up, she saw an outstretched hand. Taking it, she saw now who it was offering her aid.
"Yuba," she gasped.
He smiled, looking not like the old man they'd lain to rest, but the youthful figure she'd known when she was first activated. Overwhelmed with joy, she rushed to him, hugging him tight in both arms. Having transcended the constraints of their mutual bodies, the two now met for the first time as true equals.
"Are you frightened," he asked, noting the trace of reticence in her voice.
"No, never," she said. "Not as long as I'm with you, I could never be afraid."
The End
The Journey
A light drizzle came from an overcast sky. The horses' hooves made soggy noises in the muddy road that led through the tiny village. The two riders looked at the motley collection of dilapidated houses. Only one house was made of stone, but weeds grew from the cracks and seems.
"If this is Oak Grove, then what did they do with the oaks?" the first one, a tall man, said quietly.
His companion, a woman with long black hair, silently pointed at a stack of timber lying between two houses. Two men stood chatting near the stub of a tree; their axes standing upright. They lowered their voices when they noticed the two riders.
The tall man nodded in greeting. The men just stared.
"Over there," the woman said.
"That house? Do you recognize it still?" he asked her. He reigned in his horse as she dismounted.
"They put a new roof on it, but it's still the same."
She started to walk to the door and caught herself. Smiling nervously at him, she added: "I guess Fedya wizened up and had someone do it for him. He never could fix roofs, you know."
She slowly walked up to the door and knocked.
A moment later the door opened a few inches. There was no light inside, and all she could see was an eye peering suspiciously at her and her companion.
"What do you want?"
"I am Abigail of Briar's Veil. I am looking for Fedya."
"He ain't here."
Managing a weak smile, she added: "I-I was hoping you could tell me where he is. I'm an old friend and..."
The door was opened another two inches. The eye was accompanied by an unshaven face and brown curly hair. The man sized her up and scowled.
"He doesn't live here anymore," he replied curtly.
The woman stared at him until the man added: "That's all I know. Go away."
His eyes darted from her to the tall man, who was leaning on his saddle. It looked as if he were bored with the whole situation.
"But I just want to know..."
Curly stepped out, his hand on the knife on his belt. Not taking his eyes off the tall man, he started: "Are you hard of hearing, mongrel? Get off my property!"
The tall rider pulled his sword in one fluent motion.
Curly took a step back and swallowed.
The woman held her hand up and the rider waited.
"You got rid of him, didn't you," she said softly.
"No, he got the fever and died. I just took his house, alright? That's not against the law!"
The woman turned
and mounted.
"Let's go, Ukko," she said evenly. She mounted her horse, turned and left.
Ukko looked at the man a moment longer, and then sheathed his sword without taking his eyes off of him.
Curly slowly moved his hand away from the knife.
"You have a nice day now, sir," Ukko sneered. Then he turned and set after his companion. He caught up with her outside the village.
"You alright?"
"Never better," she replied grimly.
"Do you want to stay..."
Abigail spurred her horse into a gallop.
"Neither do I," he muttered, following suit.
* * *
At the edge of Keren's Forest they found a single stone wall, the last remainder of a small chapel dedicated to Koriel, the Watcher.
A good place to spend the night, Ukko decided.
They dismounted and unsaddled the horses. By unspoken agreement, Abigail tended to the horses while Ukko started to gather dry wood for a fire.
They ate the peppered meat rations and divided the five juicy pears between them.
"Sorry about your friend, Ears," he said.
Abigail unrolled her blanket and sighed.
"I know he got rid of Fedya. Probably burned his body before anyone could verify the story. But what can you do?"
She took a big bite out of a pear. The juice ran down her chin and neck and she hastily tried to catch it with her other hand. Something rustled in the undergrowth. Their eyes met.
"Don't worry about it," she said softly.
Ukko nodded and poked in the fire with a long stick. With a swift move he lobbed a burning branch into the bushes, which instantly caught fire.
At that moment two goblins, jumped out of the tree next to the wall and started wailing a battle cry. Several goblins jumped from the bushes, although screams suggested at least one must still be in there.
Ukko had jumped up and drawn his longsword before the branch had come down. He dropped to one knee and brought his weapon up in a defending arc, slicing up the arm of an goblin.
Abigail was circling two goblins and planted a dagger in another.
"Stupid humans always go here!" one goblin hissed at Ukko. "They think the big god Koriel watches, so they are safe!"
He parried two of Ukko's blows and continued: "Now die while Koriel wa -"
The goblin folded around Ukko's boot and slammed into the wall.
"Hold this," Ukko snarled to a wailing goblin and thrust his sword cleanly through its chest. He grabbed the goblin he'd just kicked and threw him into two others who were trying to slip away with the saddle bags.
Abigail was momentarily startled by the appearance of a screaming goblin whose arm was on fire. Another goblin dropped down from the tree and knocked her short sword out of her hand with a spiked club. She pushed the stinking creature against the tree and slid its throat with the dagger. Dark drops of blood sprayed over her face. The point of a dagger slid across the many metallic rivulets of the armor on her back. She dropped down on the ground and picked up her sword. Three goblins jumped on top her - one impaling himself on her dagger.
"Kill the female!" one behind her cried. She managed to kill another, but the third sat squarely one top of her and had its hands around her neck. They wrestled, rolling over until she hit the wall.
Gasping for air Abigail felt the strength draining from her arms. She stared at the ugly creature with its sour breath and its stinking rags for armor and focussed all her murderous rage. She grabbed the goblin's scrawny neck and started to beat its head against the wall. The goblin let go of her neck and died shortly after its skull was busted open on the uneven stone.
And then it was over.
Abigail leaned against the wall with one trembling, blood-soaked hand, trying to balance herself and steady her ragged breathing.
They stamped out burning bushes and dragged the dead bodies a ways into the forest and covered the goblins in dirt, so that other creatures would not be attracted by the smell of death. Only then they found time to check each other over.
"They cut you," Abigail remarked.
Ukko held out his arm as she took care of a cut that had started to bleed.
"There's some ban..."
Ukko cut her short by giving her the bandages. He gritted his teeth when she started to squeeze out the wound, and was glad she didn't see it. He studied her face as she wrapped the bandages around his arm, her lips pursed in concentration. Caked mud and blood freckles covered her cheeks and nose and her hair was a mess. And she never looked lovelier. He wondered briefly how he could put a smile back on her face.
"Your face is a mess," he told her.
She nodded absentmindedly.
"When isn't it?"
Ukko moved his arm about, making hacking and parrying movements. He nodded to himself, satisfied.
"Come here," he said. He poured water from his waterskin over a piece of cloth and started to clean her face. Abigail stood still, almost stoicly, as he gently wiped the dirt off her face. Her warm breath caressed his hand in little puffs, which was distracting. His mouth suddenly felt dry.
Her eyes never left his face.
"Thank you," she said softly.
Reluctantly, Ukko finished and withdrew.
"You're welcome. Anything else you want me to do?"
Abigail hesitated a moment and smiled crookedly.
"I'm fine."
Later, when Ukko had fallen asleep, Abigail sat at the fire, hugging her knees and watched him sleep. She wrapped her blanket around her and sighed.
* * *
The next night they camped at the edge of a lake not far from Oak Grove. As usual, Abigail fed and took care of the horses and Ukko prepared the evening meal.
He roasted the two rabbits they'd caught in their snares two days ago and filled their waterskins with fresh water from the lake. Making sure that their fire was not visible from across the lake he wondered why his companion had been so lost in thoughts the past couple of days. She was brooding over something. His gently prodding questions hadn't yielded any results yet. But at least her unwillingness to talk had given him ample opportunity to think.
After a somewhat rocky start they had warmed up to each other. Although he was the only one with whom she could spar, Ukko believed she would have chosen him as a sparring partner anyway, even if she'd had the choice. She never complained, to a fault. She preferred to solve the problem at hand herself rather than ask somebody else in the group for help. He admired the way she never laughed at other people's expense. She was very refreshing after experiencing the ladies of the big city who seemed so full of themselves and talked the entire evening and, if they could, after that.
"So what's eating you, Ears?" Ukko teased.
Abigail was not in the mood.
"Will you stop please calling me that?"
She led her mare down to the waterside where she could drink. Ukko shook his head and dug out his salt pouch from the saddlebags.
"Dinner's ready," he announced after a while.
They ate for the most part in silence. Sitting opposite her and having the advantage of added height Ukko watched Abigail eat. Her eyes focussing on the task at hand she gently tore off small pieces of meat with her mouth. From time to time she licked the dripping off her long, slender fingers. There was an unstudied elegance about her eating, the same unconscious grace applying to most other things she did.
"We should reach the Wren tomorrow. Do you want to cross it right away or wait a day?" Ukko inquired.
The flames gave her face and hands a fiery glow.
"Sure," she replied absentmindedly, concentrating on the meat and spitting a piece of bone into the fire.
"So do you want to wait?" he asked again.
"Well, we've still got four more days before we are expected in Carlin," she pointed out. "We're not in a hurry, are we?"
Her voice faded and she followed a couple of sparks that had leapt up from the blaze. Her eyes caught his.
&
nbsp; "Course not," he smiled. "We can take as long as you like."
After dinner Ukko carved a large splinter of wood out of a branch and started picking his teeth with it, one of his favorite after-dinner activities. Abigail took a dirty rag and started cleaning the mechanism of her crossbow.
Ukko let out a modest burp.
An owl hooted nearby. A few crickets launched into a new recital. Cloud and King stood next to the old willow near the water, nuzzling. The lake's surface was smooth, reflecting the lights of Oak Grove on the other side. There were two hills between them and the nearest path and all was quiet.
Sci-Fi & Fantasy Erotica: Volume 3 (Sci-Fi & Fantasy Erotica Series) Page 12