Carnelian- Dreams and Visions

by M. D. Grimm

  I met his eyes. “I’m not taking any chances. Not with him.”

  He smiled and nodded.

  Aishe had been with me through it all. He saw me shatter to pieces and held me through it, his mere presence comforting. He saw the monster inside me, the skill I had in torture and cruelty. He witnessed the emotional anguish I went through when speaking to my father, and learning I had a half-sister. I nearly succumbed to the temptations of Ellegrech and, without Aishe, I would have. I would have taken up the stone and done Mother knew what. Yet I was spared that fate because Aishe had returned with me into my personal nightmare with all the figurative and literal demons that entailed. Somehow we came out of the other side stronger than entering. He knew now the depth of my love and dependency for him. I now knew he truly would never leave me. He’d seen it all and he was still by my side, looking at me with love.

  “What?” he asked.

  I blinked. “What? Was I staring again?”

  He smirked. “Yes, but you were probably thinking of something else and not just admiring my pretty face.”

  I grinned and kissed him, loving his taste and the softness of his lips. He was pretty. My dialen was a creature of the forest, a hunter and archer as well as a swordmaster. He was slightly taller than I was, lean, with pale skin, and his white hair fell straight past his shoulders. His face was noble, his chin and nose proud, and his intense green eyes were the icing on the cake. I really did love him, his mind, his strength, and his continual patience with me. I knew how I was, and sometimes I didn’t even want to be around me.

  As I tried to pull away, his arms came around my waist, holding me securely. I sighed deeper into the kiss and wrapped my arms around his shoulders. He pressed tighter against me and tilted his head, changing the angle of the kiss. I dropped the letter and tangled my fingers in his hair, enjoying the soft strands. Our tongues played together, and I was reminded again that I never felt so intensely for another in my long life. My passion for him knew no bounds, and I was in serious danger of taking him to the floor right then. The sound of several small feet walking on the carpet made me pull back.

  Grendela stood with her head bowed, as did three other boygles, two males and one female. Aishe looked disappointed as he let go and stepped back.

  I smiled. “I’ll finish up here, then I can help you with your response to the council.”

  “Don’t take too long.” The heat in his eyes said he had more in mind than the letters.

  My smile deepened. “I won’t. Promise.”

  ***

  An hour later, I was putting the final touches on our acceptance responses and then climbing the stairs to one of my towers to choose two querians. They roosted in the tower, perched on shelves with straw and cloth beds. Looking like flying lizards with extra-long tails, they came in a multitude of colors and temperaments. Since the majority were trained at birth to deliver correspondences, they enjoyed the task. I chose two females, one green and one blue, and tied the letters to their little legs. They crooned at me, their big multi-faceted eyes looking at me with love. I shook my head. They’d imprinted on me, much like the way ducklings did to their parents. They knew me to be their alpha, and that I was the one to feed and house them.

  I walked over to one of the open windows and stretched out my arms. The querians took flight immediately and shot off, flying so fast that in a blink I couldn’t see them anymore. Then I called for two other querian and tied two more letters to their legs. One was a letter to Olyvre and the other was to Master Ulezander. It wouldn’t be strange for me to send a letter to my brother, and I had told Olyvre to burn the letter after reading it. I knew he would. He trusted me when it came to mages and magick.

  It was so odd to trust and to be trusted by blood family.

  I sent the other querian through the window before leaving the tower. The letter to Olyvre contained instructions and warnings. I didn’t tell him about the boygles. All I said was that I would be looking after him. I informed him if he had any problems magickal in nature, he should send a letter to Master Ulezander. My letter to my mentor was short and coded. No one else trying to read it would be able to make head or tails of the contents. I asked him to keep his eyes and ears open for any problems in Zentha. I didn’t specify exactly why, and I didn’t need to. Master Ulezander was a quick study. He would be the best to protect Olyvre, since he lived north of Zentha in the mountains, and he was also an elder of the council and the Hand.

  As I walked down the long flight of stairs, I began to wonder about him. I trusted Master Ulezander, I really did, but he’d withheld information from me, information about my birth, my family. Horrible truths kept hidden. He didn’t exactly lie to me, yet... I wasn’t thrilled with the secrecy. It would be strange seeing him again, knowing what I knew, knowing he knew that I knew about my father’s past and his villainy. Ulezander would at least suspect I talked to Matylde, the sorcerer who’d helped my father, who created potions to make sure my mother only produced sons. My father, Lazur, was a seventh son of a nobleman. He made sure he had a seventh son himself. Me.

  Many believed I would become the Destroyer of Karishian. A few thought differently, namely Aishe, Master Ulezander, Elissya, even my payshtha friend Enfernlo. I suspected it was because they wanted to believe I would become something else. No one wanted to believe someone they loved would become a monster that burned the world. I used to believe my destiny, hell, I used to embrace it. Then I simply ignored it. Now I fought against it. I didn’t know what to believe anymore.

  Elder Elorn was convinced I would become the Destroyer, and his belief led to the duel and to the coming inquiry. That was all that mattered, at this point: what others thought of me. Elorn had wanted to see me dead, as a child, when Master Ulezander made known my existence, after taking me on as his apprentice. Elorn had even come himself, along with the rest of the Hand, to kill me at the age of seven. Master Ulezander protected me, vouched for me, putting his own life on the line. I owed Master Ulezander my life. Time would tell if he made the right decision.

  Striding down the long hallways of Geheimnis, I flicked glances at the paintings hanging on the walls. Made with my own hands, with brush and paint, they depicted landscapes, scenes as far ranging as oceans, deserts, and vast forests. Most were of places on Karishian and a handful were from places on a strange world called Earth. I’d visited that world a few times in the past, courtesy of a naturally-occurring inter-worldly portal residing in the center of Vorgoroth. I would travel to Earth when I grew bored, when my life became so dull and monotonous I wanted to rip my hair out. But since Aishe came into my life, such a change of scenery wasn’t needed.

  I passed the hidden door leading to the stone room, my prison for the stones of power I’d collected over the years. I paused and stared at, what looked like, a solid wall, no different from any other section of wall. The stones lay behind several enchantments, sitting on a pedestal in a circular room without windows. To have the stones so close at hand was dangerous, but I’ve managed to resist their tempting pleas for years, and I would continue to resist. I knew what they were: deceivers, manipulators, betrayers. They promised everything, gave everything to those undisciplined in magick, those only hungry for power. Then they would always, without fail, lead to the destruction of their wielders. To give in to them would lead to my inevitable death, or worse, the death of all Karishian. What I could do with my power alone was impressive, and if I had stones of power as well? A shiver of fear raced down my spine. I would be worse than a monster. I would be Death. I walked away quickly, pushing away my dark thoughts.

  I opened my bedroom door to find Aishe sitting naked on our bed. How many times have I seen him naked? And still he robbed me of breath. All his sleek muscles were bare, especially the one standing up between his legs. He grinned when he saw me and stood, holding out his hands. I grabbed them and let him pull me into his warmth. He kissed me deeply, and I let my hands roam over his body, feeling connected and wanted and cherished. I�
��d been tortured and abused as a child, and didn’t know real love until him. I’d known friendship and cautious trust, but Aishe didn’t stop pursuing me until he won my heart. I thanked the Mother and the Hunter every day for his persistence.

  “Too many clothes.” His words were muffled against my lips, and he began to unbutton my jacket. I didn’t subscribe to the traditional robes of most mages. They were so bulky and hard to maneuver in. I wanted my legs free to kick and run, if need be. To that effect, my jacket was high-collared, and flared out at my waist like a cape around my legs, and I wore loose trousers with boots that reached my knees. All in black, of course.

  He soon had my jacket off and began working at the laces of my trousers. Meanwhile, I was playing with his pink nipples and nibbling at his lips. He groaned. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see he was growing harder. It really was amazing I could arouse this gorgeous dialen, despite being a rather scrawny, sharp-faced, thin mage. Granted, I’d gained more muscle in the past months because of the physical training with Aishe, and the stairs in Geheimnis never allowed my legs to grow flabby, yet I was still scrawny. A lot of mages were taller and bulkier than I was, which led them to underestimate me. At least, until they realized I was a seventh son of a seventh son, then my appearance hardly mattered.

  Aishe gripped my bare ass in his strong hands, and I jerked against him, my erection rubbing against his thigh. I loved his hands, his long, slender fingers. He was incredibly talented with them.

  “We really shouldn’t be this horny,” I said.

  He pulled back, lips swollen and eyes fiery. “Why not?”

  “How many times have we had sex?”

  He grinned and lifted me right off my feet. I gasped and gripped his shoulders. My trousers were bunched around my ankles, and I still had my boots on. I was about to protest when he dumped me on the bed. On my back, I glared at him as he proceeded to take off the rest of my clothes.

  “What was that for?”

  He shrugged. “Because I can.”

  I snorted, resisting a laugh. “Seriously, we know what to expect. Nothing’s new.”

  “That’s what makes this so wonderful.”

  I was now fully naked, and he crawled on top of me, smiling.

  “We know each other’s bodies. I know what one touch will do to set you off, as you do me. We are musicians well-versed in the instruments of each other’s bodies.”

  I laughed. “Damn right, we are. I like the way you said that.”

  With a quick move, I rolled us, shoving him underneath me. I kissed him again, sliding my hand over his muscled thigh, his side, slightly tickling his ribs. He shivered at the touch. He was right, I did know his body, his pleasure points, and that knowledge helped me decide whether I would draw out his pleasure or take him hard and quick. I loved the way he felt, smelled, sounded. We fit so well together, and I knew my arms would ache if I had to go without holding him for too long.

  He let his hands roam, tracing his fingers over my scars. He knew them all by now, and he’d touched, kissed, and licked every single one. My entire body was a roadmap of abuse; scars of every sort marred my pasty skin. I hated the sight of them, yet I acknowledged and accepted Aishe viewed them as evidence of my survival. My strength. To me, they were constant reminders of a past best forgotten. I’d killed my father. I couldn’t kill my memories.

  Shoving the darkness aside, I gripped his cock, stroking. He moaned, panted. His fingers combed through my black hair, messing it up from its usual slicked-back style. Needing to taste him, I slipped down his body, knelt on the floor, and mouthed his swollen tip. He shuddered and gasped, gripping the blankets. I slid my hand over his flat stomach as I kept my suction light and constant. His taunt muscles quivered under my touch, and it delighted me I could turn my fierce Aishe into a messy pile of need. His pleasure fed my own and his taste was my favorite. He squirmed. I kept going, building his pleasure until I felt a couple drops of semen touch my tongue. I moaned but never stopped. I squeezed and kneaded his balls as I intensified my suction. His skin heated until it burned, and his cock felt as hard as steel. Then I heard it in the increasingly high pitch of his cries.

  “Morgorth!”

  Give it to me, baby.

  He came in my mouth, shuddering and gasping, and I swallowed him. Slipping up his body, I used my tongue to tickle. I quickened my pace when his hands began to urge me up. As I draped over him fully again he claimed my mouth, gripping my ass.

  “That was nice,” he said.

  I grinned. “I thought so.” I cupped his cheek, and he kissed my palm. His eyes were hazy and his face flushed. He was achingly gorgeous.

  “Your turn,” he said.

  Chuckling, I was about to roll over when he gripped my hips and urged me up farther. My brow rose when I realized what he wanted me to do. He raised an eyebrow.

  “Well?”

  I blew out a breath as excitement clenched my stomach. I crawled up his body until my crotch was right over his mouth. He kept a firm hold on my hips as he devoured my erection. Groaning, I began to move, pushing into his mouth, then pulling out. His suction was killing me, his cheeks hollow from the effort, and I was soon thrusting perhaps a tad too hard, but I couldn’t stop myself. It felt so damn good. I clenched my eyes shut and grunted with each penetration, and Aishe’s willing mouth welcomed me back each time. His grip on my ass urged me on, his fingers teasing my hole. I never wanted the sensations to end, but the pleasure wasn’t going to allow me to continue for long. Soon, I was the one shuddering and coming, and Aishe made sure I didn’t move away as he swallowed everything I gave. I pressed my head against the bed, breath raspy. I came hard that time, and I felt a little wobbly.

  Aishe slipped out from under me to lie beside me, smiling smugly. I rolled my eyes at him and slid a finger over his swollen lips. He caught my finger and sucked. I shivered.

  “Why do you have to be so damn beautiful?” I said hoarsely.

  “To torment you, of course.”

  “Job well done, dialen.”

  Chuckling, he pulled me into his arms. I snuggled in and closed my eyes. It was late afternoon, but I didn’t mind taking a short nap.

  We were quiet for a time before he spoke. “I don’t know if I can wait a month.”

  I sighed. “We don’t have much choice. In one month we’ll travel to the Tower and... what will happen, will happen.”

  He squeezed me tighter. “I know you’re worried.”

  I looked at his face. “Of course I am. Mostly for you.”

  “Worry about yourself, for once. I can take care of myself.”

  I tried to smile, but it was tight, and I probably looked constipated. “I know you can. But do you really think you could go up against hundreds of mages at the same time? You’re good, baby, but you’re not that good. No non-magickal creature is.”

  He paled slightly, his pleasurable flush fading. “Do you really think that will happen? That they’ll come after you again? So blatantly?”

  “Honestly, baby? I have no idea what to expect from them or this inquiry. I can only be prepared for everything. I don’t think they’d try for me openly, which means they’ll be sneakier, more insidious. We won’t be staying at the Tower. There’s a small town nearby, and we’ll get a room at an inn there. If a mage offers you food or drink, do not accept it. Ever.”

  His eyes widened. “Would they poison me?”

  “Worse. They could mix a potion in your drink or food. You’ve read some of my books. Do you remember all the things a potion can do?”

  “There were a lot of potions.”

  “Exactly.”

  He shuddered. I kissed his forehead. “You won’t be alone. I’ll be right there, and so will Master Ulezander and even Elissya. As soon as your part in this inquiry is over, you’ll return home. I’ll handle it from there.”

  “No.” His mouth set in a firm line, Aishe glared at me. “I won’t leave you in a den of lutin. I won’t abandon you.”

  I did
n’t argue the point. I nodded. He would not be harmed because of me, and his love for me and pride in himself made him blind to his own welfare. He would be going home after he gave his testimony, one way or another.

  Chapter Two

  Aishe

  The wait was torture. We had to find ways to occupy ourselves.

  I blocked Morgorth’s punch and followed up with a punch of my own and a swift kick. He grunted when the kick landed on his hip but dodged my next, and caught me in the ribs with a punch I certainly felt. When we first started training in hand-to-hand, we’d thrown our punches, but ever since Morgorth became more experienced in non-magickal combat, we treated each session as if it was truly life-or-death.

  “Keep defending yourself,” I said. “You can’t always win when you’re on the offense. Sometimes taking a defensive measure can trick your opponent into thinking he’s winning. He gets overconfident, then you strike the fatal blow.”

  Morgorth scowled, his eyes glowing. “I’m not a moron. I know that.”

  His snappy tone let me know he wouldn’t last much longer.

  “No fair using magick,” I said. “This is non-magickal combat.”

  “As I said, I’m not a moron. I know that.”

  After a few more strikes and blocks, I managed to get my shoulder under his arm and flipped him onto his back. He landed hard on the mat, and his breath exploded out of him. I staggered, panting, before I knelt beside him and half worried I’d been too hard. He sucked in air greedily and stared at the ceiling.

  “You won,” he finally managed to say. “Again.”

  I smiled at his sulky tone and stroked his hair away from his sweaty face.

  “You’ve won your fair share, my love. Without magick. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  He glared at the ceiling. “I’m useless without magick.”

  I frowned. “Don’t say that. Being a mage is what you are, but it’s not who you are.”