Dawning Ceremony (Sexcraft Chronicles Book 3)

by Edmund Hughes

  He tried to push the image of her that he’d just seen out of his head, her blonde hair darkened and slick against her neck and shoulders from the water. One arm covering her breasts, while her free arm clamped down between her legs. The way she’d been blushing, and the way the pink flush from her embarrassment seemed to run alongside the scar on her face from the dragon’s attack on Lorne.

  I didn’t see anything. And even if I did, I didn’t.

  “Just keep looking that way!” shouted Laurel. “Let me put some clothes on.”

  Hal cleared his throat.

  “That… would be good,” he said.

  “I was practicing with my ruby,” said Laurel. “But there wasn’t enough essence in it for me to do much, so I just played around with my dagger, instead. And ended up getting myself sweaty, and hot, and just figured I could cool off and get clean at the same time.”

  During their time in Meldence, Laurel had recovered her brother’s ruby ring from a lord who had once been one of Willum’s friends. Her concern for her missing brother had manifested in a strong desire to learn how to cast magic using the gemstone, which had been a bit of a complication for Hal.

  Laurel looked to him for guidance on how to use her ruby effectively, given that Cadrian wasn’t around enough to teach her in any substantial way. She peppered him with questions about channeling essence, forming spells using willpower to direct their outcome, and of course, refilling her ruby when it ran low.

  Hal had learned the “True Ruby Path” from Cadrian. He’d learned how to use passion and intimacy as a tool for filling his heartgem with ruby essence in an expedited manner, veering off from what the Temple of Lyris taught in their doctrines when it came to using gemstones. And he’d found himself having to dance around the matter with Laurel, who he wasn’t sure fully understood what she was asking for when she begged him for instruction.

  “Don’t practice too much,” said Hal. “You’ll wear yourself out.”

  “You practiced almost nonstop when you were learning,” said Laurel.

  “Yeah, but that was different,” he said.

  Laurel didn’t say anything. He waited another minute before chancing a glance in her direction. She was dressed in a blue dress that was probably thinner than what was appropriate, both for the season and her current soaked state.

  “You don’t have to be worried,” said Laurel. “I gave it some thought while you were in Lorne, and you’re right. It isn’t fair for me to demand so much from you as a teacher.”

  “I’m not your teacher,” said Hal. He frowned a little, suddenly missing Cadrian.

  “You know what I mean,” said Laurel. “Just because you can use your gemstone at a high level doesn’t necessarily mean that you can also teach at the same level. You haven’t even had it for a full year yet, after all.”

  “Correct,” said Hal. “Which is why I agree, and think you should just… put learning to use the ruby on hold for now.”

  “You know I can’t do that,” said Laurel.

  They’d had this conversation before. When Hal had first begun learning from Cadrian, Laurel had been an outspoken critic of the fact that the two of them were using methods that went against the Temple of Lyris’s doctrines. Hal had wondered at first if her conviction would hold when it came to her own training.

  For a while, I thought she might sneak off to the Matron’s Tower and enroll as a student.

  Laurel’s independence had won out, in the end, and she’d decided to attempt to figure out the ruby on her own. She hadn’t even bothered to look for the herbs that the Temple gave its gem disciples in order to speed along essence production, instead trying to take the natural approach. Hal understood where she was coming from, but wondered if it was really as good of an approach for her as it had been for him.

  “Here,” said Laurel. “Let me show you how far I’ve come with my thesis spell. I’m really close, Hal!”

  “Is there enough essence in your ruby?” asked Hal. It felt strange asking her about it directly. To him, the question was one that felt intimate to answer, as though probed deeper into his emotional history than he’d go into during casual conversation.

  “Just barely,” said Laurel. “It fills slowly from my background emotions, even if I’m not… well, you know.”

  Hal glanced away from her, feeling an odd, uncomfortable tension left by her words.

  “Let me see it, then,” he said, quickly.

  Laurel smiled at him, her dimples showing and her blue eyes radiant. She wiped moisture off her hands and off the ruby ring on her left index finger, and then pulled her tiny dagger out of its leather sheathe.

  She’d bought it from Koda a few months earlier, and Hal had encouraged her learning how to use it. She’d faced danger often enough in the time that he’d known her to make it seem wise, even necessary, for her to learn how to protect herself.

  The dagger was similar to Hal’s short sword, with several ridges cut into the metal of the handle allowing for her to make sparks off her ruby ring, which had a similar, friction capable band. Laurel took a deep breath as brought the dagger out in front of her, holding the handle over her open hand.

  She drew it across the bottom of her ring’s band in a quick movement, making a tiny spark that jumped forward, away from her fingers. She mistimed it, and Hal heard her mutter something under her breath. She tried and failed a second time, and then a third, the timing eluding her and keeping the spell out of reach.

  “Oh, for Mystra’s sake!” said Laurel. “Hold on, I’ll get it this time. Just keep watching.”

  “Sure,” said Hal. He grinned at her, admiring the way her brow furrowed in concentration.

  She tried again, and this time, it worked. Laurel managed to use the spark as a catalyst for the spell, her ruby pulsing with a deep, red light as the essence inside of it fueled the magic. Behind her, fire rippled across the grass, extended to fill the shape of her shadow for the breadth of an instant.

  “There!” she said, triumphantly. “I call it ‘Burning Shadow’. It’s my thesis spell, like the one you do with your pistol.”

  “Flame Shot,” provided Hal. “Yeah. It’s… certainly not anything I’ve seen before, though I’m no expert on gem magic.”

  Laurel read the skeptical look on his face and scowled at him.

  “It’s useful!” she said. “It really is!”

  “It might be more useful for you to just throw a fireball, though,” said Hal. “This seems a little impractical.”

  “A fireball is something that people will expect,” said Laurel. “And something that can easily be countered. But nobody expects my shadow to burst into flames.”

  “Maybe for good reason?” Hal tried to contain his laughter as he saw her getting flustered.

  Laurel stomped over to him, and he only realized what she intended a second after her shadow had shifted to fall across his feet. Hal hopped backward as she lifted her dagger toward her hand, but he’d been standing on the edge of the spring.

  He hit the water feet first, wincing at the cold chill of it as he splashed in up to his neck. Laurel was laughing, and Hal glared at her as he attempted to pull himself back up onto the muddy bank.

  “I wasn’t actually going to do it!” she said. “I just wanted to show you what kind of reaction it could create.”

  “Is that so?” asked Hal. He glanced away from her for a moment, and then surged forward, grabbing her by the ankle. Laurel let out a surprised, laughing squeal as Hal dragged her into the spring to share his fate.

  CHAPTER 5

  A splashing battle broke out between Hal and Laurel, continuing until they were both thoroughly soaked. The contest immediately shifted to each of them trying to dunk the other, and then to wrestling.

  Laurel had her legs wrapped around Hal’s waist and was trying, to no avail, to tip him into the water. Hal leaned forward, trying to do the same to her, and Laurel clung to him even more tightly.

  They both broke the surface at a sidelong
angle, and they were still tangled together as they came up for air. Hal pressed forward, pinning Laurel against the bank of the spring and grinning at her ineffective attempts to free herself.

  Laurel stopped struggling after a few seconds, looking at him with an intensity in her eyes. She shifted slightly, opening her legs a little bit more, and let one of her hands rest on his shoulder. Her breasts strained against her soaking wet dress, and Hal felt his thoughts moving in strange, unwanted directions.

  “Laurel…” he said, in a purposefully neutral voice.

  “Hal…” Her hand shifted to his cheek, and then she was leaning in closer, her lips drawing dangerously close to his.

  She’s been using her ruby. Her emotions are being influenced by the magic.

  Hal cleared his throat and slid away from her, hurriedly pulling himself back onto the grass and out of the spring. He’d felt it himself enough times to easily recognize the signs. Gem magic tended to draw out the emotions that served as the base for the essence used for each spell. Hal remembered how hard it usually was for him to control his anger and passion when he used his own ruby, especially when he pushed into the advance magic he could work in a Ruby Trance.

  “You’ll have to keep practicing,” said Hal. “Especially at keeping a clear head once you’ve used your spell. It would be dangerous for you to do any casting, otherwise, given how it might affect your emotions and behavior.”

  Laurel was frowning at him, and her cheeks were flushed. Hal reached down to offer her a hand out of the water, but she refused it, climbing out herself. She crossed her arms and gave him a serious, disapproving look as soon as she was back on the grass, looking as though she was considering what to say next very carefully.

  A loud roar came from the sky overhead. Hal glanced upward and saw Karnas circling high above the homestead, his wings lazily outstretched as he glided on the wind currents. Hal chuckled and waved up at the dragon.

  “He’s gotten so much bolder over the past few weeks,” said Hal. “He used to be so timid about flying more than a few hundred feet away from the homestead. Now he flies around as though he owns the sky.”

  Laurel moved to stand a little closer to him, letting out a sigh as her shoulder brushed against his.

  “I wish he’d be more careful,” she said. “He’s too brazen. It’s almost like he’s showing off. And if he gets close enough to Lorne or Ostreach for someone to recognize that he’s a dragon, it might end badly.”

  “He’s smart,” said Hal. “And he’s big enough now to make anyone think twice about messing with him.”

  Karnas flapped his wings as he came in for his landing, carrying a medium sized sand deer in the talons of his front claws. It only served to prove Hal’s point, not that it had ever really been in question. Karnas had eaten ravenously over the past few months, and grown to the size of a large horse. His wing span was easily ten feet across at full extension, and he could open up his mouth wide enough to fit a man’s head inside of it.

  “You little rascal,” said Hal, as he hopped toward the dragon. He dropped into a playful crouch, and Karnas hopped to the side, more interested in playing than eating his fresh catch.

  Hal made an exaggerated grunting noise and leapt forward, trying to get his arms around the dragon’s neck, as though to ride him. Karnas let out a gruff roar that sounded almost like a laugh. The dragon twisted, rolling to the side and nipping at Hal with his mouth. It would have been terrifying if Hal hadn’t known it for the playful gesture it was, the dragon pulling its lips over teeth to keep doing any real damage.

  “You two are such boys,” said Laurel.

  Hal scoffed and again attempted to get onto Karnas’s back. The dragon flapped its wings, rising a foot or two into the air and proving that he could, if he wanted to, allow Hal to go for at least a short flight.

  Karnas immediately dropped back down, rolling across the grass and quickly shifting to press Hal underneath him. His front claw came down on Hal’s chest, and for an instant, real fear surged through him. Hal remembered the last time a dragon’s claw had pinned him like that. He remembered Aangavar, Karnas’s father, and he remembered the tragedy that had befallen his family.

  Karnas seemed to sense Hal’s emotional shift and pulled back. The dragon hesitated, and then nuzzled up against Hal, making a worried whining noise as he prodded him with the tip of his snout.

  “My bad,” said Hal. “I just got distracted.”

  “Karnas,” said Laurel. “You should eat the dead animal you dragged here with you, or put it in the shed. I don’t want it to start attracting flies.”

  One of the first things they’d discovered as Karnas had begun his growth spurt in earnest was that his intelligence kept pace with the size of his body. The dragon looked over at Laurel as she spoke, prodded Hal once more with his snout, and then picked up the dead deer in his mouth and carried it to the shed.

  “Do you mind if we cut a leg off it?” asked Hal. “Venison would be tasty for tonight.”

  Karnas set the deer down for long enough to let out a small spurt of flames out of his mouth, straight up into the air. Hal scowled back at him.

  That’s a no. I never realized dragons could be so greedy.

  “He makes it look so easy,” said Laurel.

  “What?”

  “The flames,” she said. “It’s effortless for him. Literally part of his nature. And yet I’ve spent weeks working on a spell to do the same thing.”

  Hal smiled and put a hand on her shoulder. He was a little surprised by how she reacted to his touch, immediately putting her own hand over his and drawing in a little closer.

  “He’s a dragon,” said Hal. “If you’re impressed now, just wait until he reaches his full size.”

  Laurel nodded, but her silence pointed toward a truth that both of them had realized and avoided discussing, or even thinking about. Karnas was a dragon, and when he reached his full size, it would be impossible to hide him anymore. They treated him like a pet, but from his experience with Aangavar, Hal knew that eventually Karnas would be far greater than that, both in destructive power and intellect. He was growing up faster than either of them had expected.

  “Well anyway, I need to spend some time cleaning inside the homestead,” said Laurel. “We need more firewood, if you’re looking for something to do.”

  “Sure,” said Hal. He watched Laurel heading inside, and then fetched his axe to get started on collecting wood.

  CHAPTER 6

  There was less work to do in the valley outside of harvest season, but the minor chores of keeping the homestead running still busied their days. Hal saw potential in the unused fertile land and had pitched Laurel the idea of expanding her farm further out and taking advantage of the extra space they had. She was open to it, but hesitant to make any serious changes without her brother’s approval.

  He spent what was left of the morning chopping and collecting firewood before shifting into his own training during the afternoon. The old clearing up the hill and through the sloping, mountain forest was still his location of choice for it, even though he could have easily stuck around the homestead. The spot reminded him of Cadrian, and made him feel more willing to push himself to his limits.

  Hal trained with his short sword, going through various blocks and sweeps with it. He had his own style when it came to sword fighting, each and every movement influenced by his experience and practice with the Kye Lornis. Truth be told, Hal was better at dodging than he was at attacking, and it was why Cadrian had given him a quick weapon to train with in the beginning.

  He was sweaty, tired, and hungry by the time the sun was setting over the horizon. Laurel was already cooking dinner inside the cabin, and as it turned out, she’d managed to get some meat off the deer, after all. Karnas was sleeping on the floor of the sitting room, curled up into the shape of a ball, with his wings wrapped to hug around him.

  “How was your training?” asked Laurel.

  Hal took a seat at the table. Laurel
had already taken the apple wine out, of which they had plenty, after the last harvest. He poured himself a generous goblet and took a sip.

  “Good,” said Hal. “A little aimless, without Cadrian around. And I couldn’t use my heartgem, given how low I’m running on ruby essence.”

  Laurel didn’t say anything. Hal figured that it was because it was a problem that she also now shared. The smell of venison and sizzling deer fat was thick on the air, and his stomach rumbled, reminding him of how long it had been since he’d last eaten.

  “It’s been almost a month since you last saw Cadrian,” said Laurel. “Hasn’t it been?”

  “I haven’t really been counting the days,” said Hal. “Somewhere around a month, I guess.”

  “What happens if she doesn’t come back?” asked Laurel.

  Hal furrowed his brow, tapping his fingers on the table.

  Why would she ask me that? How am I even supposed to answer?

  It reminded him so much of the questions Lilith, his little sister, had loved to ask. She’d been a precocious little girl, always cutting straight to the point, her curiosity leading her to ask everyone about everything.

  “If she doesn’t come back, I guess I’ll have to figure something else out,” said Hal. “I still want to learn how to unlock the other elements of my heartgem. As interesting as ruby and sapphire spells are, I think I could do a lot with diamond magic.”

  Diamond, or air elemental magic, was intriguing to Hal for the obvious reason. The idea of floating, flying, transcending the limits of his legs and the ground, made him feel liken an excited little boy in the face of the possibilities. He smiled as he thought about it, and then frowned as he looked at Laurel, who looked slightly annoyed.

  “And you’ll just leave things where you are with your ruby?” asked Laurel. “You told me that you were pushing the limits of your Ruby Trance the last time you had a proper training session with Cadrian.”

  “I was, and I am,” said Hal. “It just takes a lot of essence to reach that point.”