The Rokkaia Chronicles

by Rhys Thomas

  We came upon the towns centre. This was where the market place stalls were most numerous. Young and Elderly women, as well as young lads were dressed like colourful sailors as they worked. Each wore one or more pieces of jewellery out in the open. These were the Venyin I assumed. Even in the cold north climate and mute grey backdrop of the town, their sun-kiss skin, Asian features and colourful clothing made the evening scene and cool air all the lighter.

  They coordinated amongst themselves as they folded thin sheets of different variations of colour; as others collapsed tables and stacked chairs to pack away.

  On a street leading a few blocks away from the centre, we found Weldon’s Fourth. The board hanging outside the entrance was old and chipped with a faded design, a simple numerical 4. Which brought a thought to mind.

  I could presumably speak the various languages practically seamlessly and read the written word.

  But what about writing it, and if I asked say Ariana to write the number 4 on a slip of parchment would her hand writing go through the motions of the English 4 or would it be a Viria variant and how would that translate over. For now, we needed food and stiff drinks. I could experiment later. We stepped forth and I opened the door for Aria to step in before me.

  “What a gentleman,” she cooed sarcastically.

  “Oh, I’ve got some rough edges,” I muttered with an eye roll.

  The Inn was completely empty, the exception being a heavily set woman snoring over a table in the corner of the room. Drool leaked from her thick pouty lips and down her flush cheeks. She was quite stunning, in a strange kind of way.

  We walked past the dozing bar maid and approached the bar, seeing that no one was around, I rapped my knuckles sharply against the wood, with two quick and loud strikes of my hand. “Hello?” I called out and heard an equally loud huff of annoyance come from behind the door to the kitchen.

  Casting a quick look around I noticed how stark and barren the place was in terms of comfort and decoration compared to the Honeyed-bear inn. The tables and chairs were squat splintered things, but sturdy.

  The inn bore the same structure of build, all houses I’d seen so far had. Stone foundations that encased the first floor, and with those above being lumber. Sconces pitched flickering cones of warm light on the wall’s parallel to either side of the common room.

  Eventually, a rotund man barge through the kitchen door looking abjectly annoyed at the intrusion. “Whadda want?” He snapped and I sighed.

  Maybe it was my shitty luck that I had to deal snippy people. Or… Maybe it really was my face that set people off.

  He wore a dirty and crusted apron. His incredibly hairy arms bulged fatly from his rolled-up sleeves. His basketball shaped head held an unclean look and the scratchy looking grey stumble didn’t exactly give me hope on receiving good service. His hair was fraying and what was left was barely there in patches.

  “We were told by Jaric at the gates to seek out this inn for a stay, I venture to guess that you’re Weldon?” I asked politely and a little exasperatedly.

  “Jaric?” Weldon said pinching the bridge of his nose with his thick fingers. “God’s be damn, does that man persist on sending strangers my way. Fine was is it that you want exactly?”

  I frowned at the man, “to stay the night and preferably a hot meal before bed and breakfast in the morning.” I stated, like it was obvious. “Do you have somewhere to bathe here as well?” I added after a thought.

  Weldon nodded, “you’ll have a wash area in your room, or will it be two rooms?” He answer hurriedly as if he couldn’t wait the end our discussion.

  I looked to Ariana, but she just shook her head firmly in response to my gaze, “no, the one will fine.” I scratched at my cheek, “and we’ll just be staying the night.” He nodded and quickly looked Ariana up and down, his eyes lingering on her tight black leather thighs and chest.

  “Would you happen to know if any of the Venyin traders are heading out tomorrow? If they’re in need of guards?” I asked to draw the innkeepers attention away from my friend’s tightly packed figure.

  “No,” he replied tersely and looked almost affronted at my questioning.

  “Okay... Thanks for the consideration.”

  The man let out an annoyed sigh, “the Venyin are banned from the Fourth.” As if that explained everything. “Your room is just upstairs, second door on the left. That’ll be 7 silvers and 2 copper, and I’ll have fresh towels brought up to you, and let you know when the meal is ready. When Calista wakes up of course…” he said with a gruff nod towards the sleeping barmaid.

  Ariana plucked out the required amount and placed the coins on the bar. The innkeeper quickly snatch the coins away and into the pocket of his apron. He then rummaged beneath the bar for several seconds mumbling to himself, then pulled out a rusted iron key with a 4-inch diameter plaque with the number 7 carved into the smooth wood. The two were tied by a piece of red silky lace.

  “There you go,” he said with a dismissive shooing gesture of his hand. I glanced at Ariana with a grimace, “Pyhronia better have politer people than this, or you’ll find I won’t there long,” I stated quietly.

  Ariana nodded with a small smile, “Haroxi has just had a run of bad luck recently, they lost all form of a governing system when the Kasha vanished. Now this business with Bastion. An outpost which was meant to be the lead human settlement after the freed people fled south from Goldranos Dominion,” she explained quietly when she saw my look.

  We made our way to our room and I could feel Marisa growing restless, wanting to stretch. We entered and I was suddenly struck by how nice and well set up the room was. We went about the same routine we had taken in Melancholy and I was suddenly struck by how inexplicably I trusted Ariana.

  Like having her around and by my side was just, right. And maybe a little predetermined by fate, I thought as I sat on the edge of the large double sized bed.

  *I wouldn’t worry too much about it love,* Marisa said yawning as she stretched out on the bed.

  “Whys that?” I asked aloud.

  *Let’s say that all the women you’ll meet were given or lead to you by some pull of the universe. Would it make any difference how you felt about them?*

  *I mean… I would want to get to know them at least,* I answered, frowning and unsure of what we were really going on about.

  *Did you know that Ra’al species—the Domain Leaders—cannot bear biological children.* Marisa informed me. My frown turned to momentary confusion.

  *Wait if they can’t bear children, then who the heck bore them?*

  There was a brief gap of silence after my question and I knew Marisa was wondering whether or not to divulge that information, a later breath she answered.

  *They were designed that way love; an increase of their numbers would be inefficient to progress. So, their kind weren’t given the ability to reproduce, only to pass on their essence to a chosen inheritor.* I nodded thoughtfully at her explanation, though at some point during her explanation I was pretty sure she was bullshitting me, but I buried that thought way down.

  I slipped off my boots and warped them away just as a quick series of knocks came at the door. Quickly turning, I fanned out my wolf-fur cloak and tossed it over Marisa, who grumbled irritably from the bed about some being seen as some dirty house cat. I moved over stepping past Ariana who was studiously removing several dozen knives and stashing them within a rolled-up belt she retrieved from her pack.

  I reached out and twisted the handle only to see the sleeping woman from downstairs. In her hands she carried two towels, one a light blue and the other was a regal purple. “Weldon thought it was best to let you freshen up before eating. The meal won’t be ready till the 6th strike. So here I am,” she greeted with a friendly wave and I smiled thankfully.

  Honestly, I really needed to wash off more than the previous days travels. She moved inside our room to deposit the towels on the bed just next to where my cloak covered Marisa’s still form. I held my brea
th, but she paid no mind to my travel worn cloak and walked back to open door I stood beside.

  She came to the entrance and then bent over, practically shoving her massively round ass against my hip and crotch, I pulled away slightly and she came back up holding what looked to be a tin rectangular box attached to a tangling iron hoop.

  She then reached up and pulled down a small rubbed dent on the tin’s panelling, a shutter slit open to reveal the candle within. The candles wick already burnt pass the 5th strike.

  Calista handed the cradle off to me and left us our musings. I turned back around and just caught a glimpse of Ariana’s pert ass, back dimples and lean thighs as moved behind a screen that divided the bed area from the wash area. Her long black hair hung loose and beautiful, like spilled shadows down her back.

  I heard a soft splash of water and then a contented moan as Aria slipped deep within the bath. “Is it hot?” I called out, more so to fill the silence.

  “Yeeesss,” she moaned with a hiss. “They have running water as well,” she stated and I frowned in puzzlement, that would mean they had piping layering the building and a drainage system to dump the used water. How did they heat it?

  I sat back on the bed and continued undressing, Marisa wrestled through my wolf furred cloak and a second later her bronze scales and dark-red feathered head popped out and she shook like a wet dog.

  Her orange ringed gaze tilted quizzically at me, then to the screen divider, *not going to join our dear Faen?* She thought to me with a raised draconic eyebrow.

  “No, I’ll let whatever Ariana and I have, play out naturally.” The dragonling nodded even as I began to feel nervous about her suggestion. “You’re really okay with that though? Me being with other women?” I asked sceptically.

  *That’s the human in you. The society you’ve been raised in,* she replied with a snort. *We’re bound to one another, and that bond is forever and the connecting thread that ties us is strong and everlasting. Other women can and will come and go as they please, and those that remain will partake of our gifts and join us fully.

  *We’ll be a family Alaric. An unstoppable family built on love, trust and power. I’ll only push you towards those that I believe will bring us joy, security and comfort, and those that’ll help us to accomplish our goals.* Marisa finished and I still couldn’t help but feel slightly shocked at what she was saying and a little uncomfortable at what seemed to be betrayal of the bond I shared with Marisa.

  I mean, I wouldn’t even be able to kiss her till she is able to return to her human form, and when would that be.

  *Enough of that rabbit hole, my love. You said you wanted to speak to me about something that concerned you before.* I nodded filing away this discussion for a further date. I needed more... conclusive evidence that I wasn’t simply going to be a puppet for the Valakharian order, and that Ariana wasn’t just sexy-beautiful bait cast out by their orderly hooks.

  “Yes. I did. It’s the second or third time now this has happened. The first was back when we encountered Scar.” I said my imagination half-expecting the dead man to popped up singing ‘be pre-pared!’ Whenever I said his name.

  *I presume this has to do with you telling the gate guard, your name was Wyatt Rosen?* Marisa asked me; her intuition spot on. *Of course, it is. I hear each and every surface thought you have.*

  “Yeah… I don’t know how to describe it, but I’m seeing flashes of Wyatt’s life. The second came to me at the destroyed hamlet; but I managed to stop it and block the memory. But I know it was a painful one, there was this sense of familiarity when I saw the dead girl at the entrance, a vague impression I got from the memory that I- uh no, that Wyatt had seen something similar,” I finished breathlessly, running a hand over my stubbled hair, it really needed a good wash. “Why am I seeing these memories of his, when he’s dead?” I added to the dragonling.

  *That’ll be the remnants of his self, that he not only passed onto you to heal your wounds but also the ‘self’ he instilled on your Shade. They’ll remain loosely in the background of your memories till either certain imagery or strong emotions brings them to the forefront. When your primordial form is manifested outside your body, the rapidity of Wyatt’s memories should lessen to a degree.*

  She paused considering. *You may even want to live through them love. See what he saw, experience what he did. But it’ll be a double-edged sword, I’m afraid. You would also experience the countless trials Wyatt went through, but also see the loss he felt went his daughter Grace and his wife Vanessa, died.*

  My eyebrows pinched together, “Yeah... I don’t believe I’ll be ready to experience that anytime soon.” I slipped off my undershirt and warped it away, leaving me in just my untied breeches as I waited for Ariana to finish bathing.

  *Marisa... These things you aren’t telling me, they’re bad aren’t they,* I thought quietly to Marisa and could feel a mixed degree of emotions roll over our bond empathically. The most profound of them was the sadness and grief that crashed atop her like an unceasing tide.

  *Yes, they are. Though, not bad and horrific like you would think. Just… Be patient with me, I’ll tell you once you’re ready to know the true, I promise.* We left it at that; Marisa strolling past my prone form to curl up on the pillow, her body sinking into the comfort and soon she was snoring softly.

  I watched her simply breathing for some time, till I heard the light tap of bare feet against the floor and I sat up to see a view of Aria wrapped in a towel. Her wet glistening skin was a slightly pinkish from the hot water, her firm body filling the towel tightly. Her round breasts stood high on her chest and strained at the restriction. I noticed several long white scars lined the flesh of her upper thigh as the towel just barely concealed her sex from my view. Small cross shaped scars like ninja stars dotted around her shins and calf’s.

  The gaara tattoo covered her shoulders completely and just reached her neck rounding it like the collar of a shirt. I blinked several times quickly coming back to my senses and closed my mouth with audible snap, trying to keep from salivating all over myself. My desire to taste her flesh and lick along her inner thigh and then the pink flesh of her slit, to nibble and tease her hard nipples as I slid my cock inside her to the sounds of her moans.

  I was still reeling in my fantasies when Ariana came to a stop right between my spread legs hanging just off the bed. “Alaric...” She said, her voice husky as my rolls off her tongue like honey and dripping with equal desire. I became aware instantly, hardening in my breeches and leaned forward towards her.

  Her hands though callous were sure and gentle as if her mere touch would scratch and tarnish the paint that was my face. They roved assuredly and deftly along my jaw, her nails brushing against the stubble on my face, the scar on my cheek.

  Her violet eyes stared deeply into the pits of my souls and found something there. Something grey and feral, hungry for love and flesh. My own hands came up and I gingerly placed them on her hips, it just didn’t feel like the right time.

  I wanted her closeness, like I needed Marisa’s reassuring presence in my mind. But Ariana needed to belong, to be a part of something. And that something I realised; just as her head tilted down slightly towards mine, was not me, at least not yet anyway. Her hands moved delicately through my stubble of hair.

  Her fingers pressed and massaged my scalp and our eyes close as our lips met. Her soft perfect lips pressed against mine and I took a quick breath of her as she slit her tongue into my mouth. She tasted like liquorice and smoke.

  I wasn’t sure how long we made out for but eventually, Ariana broke the kiss completely resting her head against my own. I could feel myself hot with sweat and lust; but I restrained from pushing further. She looked me in the eyes and gave me small grin, the slightest quirk of her lips. “Not bad for an outworlder,” she tittered.

  “I believe you mean Demi-god,” I replied jokingly with a raised eyebrow.

  She shook her head, “go bathe before it gets cold in there.” I did just t
hat, Aria moved away from me and towards the pile of her clothing. I saw that familiar tunic I had lent her. I heard the drop of her towel as she release it from around her, the temptation to turn and set my sights on her ass and dimples was incredibly strong, but I fought the urge.

  I could wait after-all. If I could be patient for Marisa, then I could be for Ariana as well. I was maybe in the bath for a good long while. There were a mixture of soaps to use as well, one of lavender which I hated and frequently gagged at the smell of. The next and the one which I used, a mixture of oranges and lilac. The scent layered my skin silkily and even after having dried I still felt smooth and cleansed. Then pulling back on my breeches and still drying my hair I moved back into the centre of the room to see Ariana was led on the bed with her head next to Marisa’s sleeping form, I was about to join them when the familiar knock came at our room’s door.

  “Sir, lady. Dinner has been prepared and set in the common room,” came Calista’s muffled voice from the other side.

  “We’ll be right down, thank you,” I called and padded over to the bed. “Hey, wake up food’s ready,” I said prodding gently at Ariana’s arm. Marisa was still curled in on herself, but she cracked an eye open when I sat on the bed by her, warping my boots to hand and putting them. *You going to be okay by yourself?* I thought to her.

  *Of course,* she replied plainly.

  *Just keep an ear out for anything or anyone nearby.* She sent me the mental equivalent of a nod and then went back to sleeping peacefully.

  I heard a mumbling groan from behind and felt the bed shift as Aria moved about grumbling quietly. She slit off next to me, patting my shoulder as she did so. “Sorry, I would’ve let you sleep if I didn’t think we really needed a cooked meal,” I told her.

  She shrugged sleepily and pulled her knee-high boots out from under the bed and began fastening them. She looked at odds in tight black leather breeches and boots, with a dirty beige tunic hanging off her chest.