Sci-Fi & Fantasy Erotica: Volume 2 (Sci-Fi & Fantasy Erotica Series)

by Charlie Buxton

  Suddenly the weight lifted from his hands, a glowing aura encompassing his body. All the pain in the world seemed to fall away as he hung suspended by a nothing but the air below him. It was then, in the back of his mind, a voice began to whisper. The words from an angelic voice spilled out into his head.

  "You have shown your strength, Galen. The challenge is won."

  "But I wasn't finished," he whispered, his hands trembling.

  "No, you have finished. And you've exceeded what we expected."

  Icy fingers entwined his hands, the frigid chill soaking into his fingers that then warmed themselves with the soft glow of his palms. The blood turned to mist; the mangled skin stitched itself together. Even the bandage on his arm came undone, the gouge in his flesh sealing shut. Every cut, scratch, scrape, bruise that covered his body disappeared in a bath of ice and warmth.

  Yet even as the last wound healed, the force holding the young Private did not let him go. The world around him instead went bright before his eyes, nearly blinding him with a flash of white. Seconds later, he found himself inside the Great Tree, hovering just inches above the boiling cauldron."Next you face the challenge of the mind. You have proven its strength over your body, but can you pass the true test?"

  "I can..." he mumbled in a drowsy state, "I can do this."

  The elves began pouring into the room from the outside, mumbling and giggling amongst themselves as they watched the soldier hover over the pot. Galen found himself scanning through the women, their nude bodies no longer fazing him as he searched for the one elf he knew. Or at least, sort of knew.

  He spotted Celia stuck in the back of the crowd, blocked off behind a group of girls who stood on tiptoe to watch their darling hero face his next test. Tanza emerged from the crowd, still set with that proud look of hers. The elder came forth and knelt down beneath Galen, closing her eyes as she filled his head with her voice once again.

  "Let us begin your next test. It shall strain your thoughts; probe your cleverness and imagination. Words may be your foe or your ally, use them wisely. Are you ready?"

  "Yes."

  Tanza grinned, drawing out a long exhale as her telepathic voice stated, "Let us begin. Why is it shameful to bury a man living in the desert?"

  Riddles? The test is of riddles? Galen thought for a moment, wondering why they would use such a method to test one's mind. And to bury a man living in the desert? What is shameful of it? So vultures wouldn't get him? Because his body wouldn't breakdown?

  No, his gut said something else. Words would be his foe in this, or his friend. Shameful to bury a man living in the desert... Living... living... Living!

  "Because he is still alive," Galen answered, chuckling to himself.

  "Clever boy. Give it food, it will live. Give it water, it will die. Of what do I speak?"

  Galen relaxed a moment, a small grin forming on his lips as he answered, "Fire."

  "Very clever. But are you clever enough? Two men watch a crossing of two paths. One path leads to death, the other leads to wealth. One man always lies, yet one forever tells the truth. You have one question to ask these men to find the wealth, what is it?"

  "Were you to be the other man, which direction would you point to lead me to the wealth?"

  Light flashed before Galen, his mind going into a fuzzy state. Images of his youth flashed before his eyes. Baseball games, TV shows, long trips in the car across the prairies. His father behind the wheel with mother in the front seat. Talking, laughing. Acting as if nothing was wrong with the world. He was thankful now to have a riddler of a father, always testing Galen and his mother with his quirky questions and their unheard-of answers. Especially since those exact same riddles had been repeated to him now. He reveled in the memories of how they passed time away when they were together on their long trips through the country. Long-dead memories of a time long past, yet they still brought a warm smile to the Private's face.

  "Wake up, Galen."

  His eyes began to open, revealing him to a world... a world with no walls. No ground, no ceiling, just an endless sea of white.

  "Where am I?" he asked, his voice echoing all around.

  "Your mind," Tanza whispered.

  Galen whipped around, but there was no other presence there with him. Only the empty vastness of his own consciousness.

  "I can see your memories from here, Galen. I can feel your thoughts. You had an unfair advantage in the mental test, having heard our riddles before. But I will let it go; normal men of Raska are often not so keen and sharp-witted, but you are practiced. Not only in riddles, but in many fields that require a strong intelligence. War as well... I see the pain you feel for your lost comrades, the fear that others from your Company may have died back in your realm. But you quell these hindrances and focus on what's before you. It takes strength indeed. Take comfort in their safety. Know that they are alive, and they will be so. And if they have slipped the bonds of mortality, know that they still live on in your heart. So long as you remember them, they never truly die."

  Tanza's voice moved; Galen turning about on his heel to follow it.

  "Men of dark hearts would carry themselves in an abyss of darkness, yet you are filled with the light... You were willing to sacrifice yourself for the sake of your friend. So easily would you give your life for others. Is it bravery? Heart? Yes, but there is much more to it... it is part of who you are. I see the why now. That is great of you, Galen. I am impressed. However..."

  Below him, the sea of white began to change. Black wisps stretched out from his boots and rolled across the now visible floor, tainting it, turning it black with streaks of red. This twisted darkness lashed out and screamed at him, a bloodied hand pulling at his boots. He stepped away from the gruesome appendage, turning as the voice once again changed its location.

  "You are softened from the horrors of death, Galen. There is some darkness to be found in your soul and fresh blood spilled by your hands. Yet your heart is one of gold. A soul bathed in light. Do not allow this darkness to breed, Galen; do not lose sight of what you have inside. Do not corrupt what is in your heart and you shall never fail."

  He gave a solid nod in the direction of Tanza's voice, "I won't ma'am."

  "Then you have passed our trials, Galen. Return to us."

  His vision pulsed with a flash of white, returning his mind to body and his body to the floor. All the energy that he had was sapped in that very moment, leaving him motionless as two elven girls scooped their arms under his and brought him up from the floor. A familiar hand lifted his chin, bringing his ocean-blue eyes up to meet Celia's cloud-white. He cracked a weak smile, and she giggled in return, pressing her lips against his in the moments before he passed out.

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

  "You are quite taken with him," Tanza stated as Celia pulled her lips away from the unconscious human.

  The elvish girl swept a lock of her green hair back behind one of her ears, touching a tingly hand to her sparking lips as she turned to her elder.

  "He is not like the others, Elder. You saw it yourself. There is an aura about him stronger than the one about ourselves. That, and he saved me from death at the troll's hands, I owe him my life."

  Celia's gaze returned to her soldier and watched as her elven sisters removed his gear, first his helmet, then his combat webbing and jacket. They stripped it all away to leave him in just his olive drab pants and green T-shirt. One of the girls giggled as she pressed a finger into his chest to probe the muscle mass. Though he was nothing spectacular, the firmness of his upper body earned him an admirable series of coos and giggles as several of the other girls began to feel him all over.

  "We will see where his heart lies after the feast," Tanza stated as the elven girls explored his body. "If you can still claim his heart as the others claim his body, I shall give you permission to leave. But only if you do not interfere, or take exception as he does what must be done."

&n
bsp; "Of course, elder... Are you... participating in the rituals?"

  Tanza placed a hand on Celia's shoulder, pressing a kiss onto her cheek as Galen was carried out of the Great Tree. "It is my duty, and my pleasure. But do not worry child, I see that he is strong, his endurance capable. When the ceremonies are complete, I shall try to use my magic to ensure he is ready for you when your turn comes."

  Tanza stepped past Celia and out the exit of the Great Tree to join the others outside, leaving her alone to gaze up as the baskets suspended the entire way up the hollowed trunk. Each one of those hanging weaves of vine contained a lush bed made from the furs of hunted animals and the fuzzy leaves of the Great Tree.

  These soft beds were the traditional settings where the elven kind came when a man of noble heart had proven himself, the final challenge for him to face before he was allowed to leave their village.

  If he was to stay so pure of heart afterward, she could only wait and see.

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

  Before the entrance to the Great Tree, a long, heavy table was set with wide plates of fruits and long trays of vegetables beside the jugs of milk or wine. Cheese and breads, cakes and pastries, all sorts of delights made their way into the feast. Along the table, the forty-six elves took their seats with Galen placed in the high-backed chair at one end; his place was supplemented with the only platter of meat present in the entire feast.

  Sitting at the opposite end of the table from the still-sleeping soldier, Elder Tanza stood from her throne and raised a glowing hand toward him, chanting something in elvish before his eyes began to stir.

  The warm, familiar scent of venison filled Galen's nose, filling his lungs with life as his eyes began to open. The light of the sun was shining over the treetops, the cool breeze blowing against his cheek. All the pain in his body had gone, replaced by soothing sensation that waded through his muscles, tempting him to fall back into sleep. Sleep he desperately craved. At least, until he finally focused on what sat in front of him.

  Life suddenly pulsed in his veins as he locked onto the steaming plate of venison waiting to satisfy that hunger that began to burn in his belly. Just as he reached for the meat though, a pale green hand reached out and smacked his fingers.

  "Neya. Neh kepa teyah ta sissa, Galen."

  Confusion dominated the Private's expression as he stared at the elf. "I don't know what you said, but okay."

  Then Tanza's voice rose over the whispers at the table, clearing the drowsiness clean from his head. Though her words were in elvish, the fact that every elven girl at the table before him had their eyes trained upon him rather than their elder likely meant that Tanza's words were to his distinction. As their elder came to the end of her speech, the elves broke out into applause while some raised their glasses to him.

  "Galen Martin, you have passed our tests where dozens have failed. You have overcome body and proven your mind in our trials and have not only shown your soul to be one with the light, but unafraid to venture into the dark in the path of helping others. To this, we elves have readied a feast in your honor. To you sir, we toast. Together, we eat. Ona! Begin!"

  Chaos ensued as hands crossed the table and food was passed around. Helpings were served, plates were filled, and without even asking, a goblet of wine was placed before Galen along with several plates of fruit and vegetables. He didn't even hesitate to dig in, shoving mouthfuls in at a time.

  He hadn't even realized how empty his stomach was, seeming how as the last thing he had other than water was an egg and toast breakfast at the airfield before taking off on his final flight. Even that had been lost after he woke from the crash, and it left him starving.

  The elvish girls who had placed themselves at his end of the table giggled at his savagery, except for one of the women, who began to scold him in her own tongue, mimicking his rapid eating habits before giving a show of disgust. Galen may not have understood what her words were, but he recognized the rant of an angry woman who was a stickler for good manners.

  "Hey, I haven't eaten in a day and a half," he declared with a mouthful of baked apple rolls, "And this is the best food I have eaten since I left San Francisco!"

  One of the elvish girls whispered into the ear of the scolding elf, translating what he had just said. It only took a second for that elvish woman's frown to flip around. Word quickly circled the table and the elves began cheering in their tongue. Applause broke out as the scolding elf stood up and bowed to her happy diners.

  "She cook food," whispered a voice.

  Galen nearly jumped from his seat as Celia appeared at his side, settling in on the arm rest of his chair. The mouthful burying his tongue quickly slid down his throat as she settled in beside him. Taking a cloth in hand, Celia brushed off a touch of fruit juice from Galen's cheek before tucking the cloth into his lap.

  Once again he was speechless, his whole thought process frozen by her presence. The only thing that could come to mind was moving over in his seat, trying to make room for this new arrival. She gave him a quizzical look, wondering what the man was doing before he finally asked, "Sit?"

  Celia giggled as she slid off the arm rest and landed herself right in his lap. This move caught the eye of several of the elvish women at the table and drew plenty pairs of curious stares. For those that did not giggle or swoon, Galen noticed that they stared at the lady in his lap with a tinge of... jealousy? Why would they become jealous?

  "Eat," Celia said in her simple manner as she brought the slice of a strawberry to his mouth.

  With a faint chuckle, he took a bite of the fruit as his eyes remained locked with hers. Bite after bite, she brought slices of fruit and salad to Galen's mouth to hand feed him herself. The elf even went as far as feeding him a slice of venison, though it was clear in his eye that she abhorred her handling of cooked meat, just as it was clear that the tree elves did not have a taste for other animals.

  Not wanting to feel babied, Galen took one of the cookies placed before him and brought it to Celia's mouth. He slowly teased her lips with the pastry before allowing her to bite in, and with each little game he played with her, with each passing moment they spent together, Celia could catch the sly looks of approval cast in her direction from the elder.

  At the end of the night, even when everything was finished, Celia knew that this man would still be the one to call hers.

  "Galen, have you had your fill?" Tanza questioned from across the table.

  "I believe I have. Is that all to the feast?"

  He couldn't help but wonder why the women at the table were smiling so wildly. Had he said something funny?

  The laughter went silent as the elves raised their hands in unison toward the table. A soft chanting filled the air, causing the leftovers to glow in a bright green light. In one sudden flash, it all disappeared. Plates, trays, fruits and cakes, all of it disappeared with not even a crumb left upon the table.

  Impossible... That's impossible, Galen thought, a deer in the headlights of what he just saw.

  While he tried to wrap his mind around their magic, the elves then rose up from their seats. Celia herself leaned back to give him one last kiss on the cheek before she stood up, a move that finally snapped him out of his awestruck daze.

  "Where you going?" he asked as the tree elves filed into the Great Tree, climbing the ramps up to the levels above.

  "Come," Tanza ordered, "there is one last ceremony to perform."

  "Alright..." Galen mumbled as he got out of his chair, following the elven elder into the Great Tree.

  Pink flames now rose from the torches that lined the walls, pink tulips blooming along the vines that held up the large baskets above. Tanza took hold of Galen's hand as she led him up the ramp to the first basket.

  "What's going on?" he asked curiously as many elves continually watched him from above.

  "How many elves did you see in the village today?" Tanza asked.

  "Forty or so.
"

  "Forty-six," she corrected, "The elves of Atzla need fifty to keep the magic in this forest at full strength, so the trees may grow, the animals may thrive, and the hunters of the tribes may keep balance. And with Celia's affection for you, I would not doubt her intentions to join you after you depart..."

  "So what does this mean?" he asked.

  Tanza cast him a devilish grin as she began to undo the belt of her robe, sliding it down over her shoulders. When the garment hit the floor, Tanza stepped into the basket and settled into the furs. The sight made Galen's eyes damn near pop out his head.

  Without any form of clothing on her, the young man was granted full view of Tanza's body: the shapely, pink-capped breasts she cupped so proudly together with her soft hands, the silky. The moist lips of her sex glistening as she spread her legs for him, the pink bud begging to be touched. The elf playfully twirled a length of her black hair around her finger, passing him a seductive glance from ultramarine eyes, licking her dark blue lips.