I scooped up a handful of cheek and assisted her, adding involuntary thrusts for good measure. She was moaning now, blushing an even brighter shade of red than before. She closed her eyes tightly, breath coming in faster gasps as my body took over on raw instinct. There was a delicate moment, and then it was gone, replaced by the urgency of her warmth closing around every bit of me. I could feel her fingernails digging into my skin as if she were hanging on for her life, even while I hung onto her with both arms. She was a prize of exquisite make, and she was mine.
Her breasts swayed, touching me with their tips in playful reminders of how we were moving, and then she began to chant, a low noise of pure pleasure, like an erotic spell.
“Don’t. Stop. Don’t. Stop,” she said, each word thick with urgency as we surged toward a climax, linked in body and mind.
We bounced over to the edge of the pool, and I bent her forward over a slab of smooth stone. Her blonde curls glimmered in the few rays of sun still filtering down through the shady branches, and I let my fingers claim her hips, my hands sinking into her soft flesh as they made pale circles from the pressure of my need.
I continued to stroke, long and swift, this time from behind. She lurched forward each time I hit home, and I reached under her arm with one hand to cup a breast, its nipple hard against my palm. At this, she craned her head around to me, her jaw slack, and I came in to meet her for a kiss. Our tongues touched, met, and began to explore each other in new ways, a moment of slow calm in the storm of our lovemaking.
Thrust—thrust—THRUST! Her muffled sound told me that I had landed a critical strike as she went rigid, climaxing hard in waves of spastic energy that before the tension left her and she began to melt, one muscle at a time. I pulled away from her with regret, dragging my fingers over the perfection of his skin as we separated. For the moment.
Thinking I would like to shine more light on her beautiful, exhausted face, I held my hand up to the branches shading us and jokingly commanded, “Let there be light!”
To my astonishment, the branches actually followed my orders. Binari gasped and clung to my side as she watched them. I felt a tingling sensation in the tips of the fingers that had reached for the branches; it was weird, as if someone had tickled me with an electric feather.
“Did you do that?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“I—uh—I think so . . .”
“Then finish in the sun,” she said, taking me back inside her for the last part of our ride. It was a sprint, filled with short moans and little motion as we rocked back and forth in a controlled burn, then her second climax began, triggering mine in a sunburst of pleasure so intense of made the light dance across my eyes.
Her lips brushed mine as she stared at me, a lazy smile on her full lips. “Now we’re done.”
“For now,” I allowed.
She lifted a brow, the looked up into the trees. “About that trick. . .”
8
Binari thought it would be a good idea to tell the rest of the Presence about my newfound ability. I had my own reservations about that since Elder Frey and I had gotten off to such a bad start. I was unsure of how he would react if I were to start standing out more than I already did. But, I decided, he could go screw himself. I had bigger fish to fry, more important things to worry about than his old crochety ass. I had to slay Conn Felvid, who was apparently riding out of the desert on a pony with two tough guys, according to my friend’s vision. But, more importantly, I was there to beta test this insane new game, and in doing so, I was determined to push it to its limits.
It was soon clear to me that my suspicions about how the order of forest druids would react to my fledgling powers were well-placed. We said our good-byes to Horan upon entering the city, and Binari and I traveled the rest of the way to the Temple. She led me through the large double-doors of the Temple Hearth, as I recently learned it was formally named, and my return was immediately met by a number of disapproving stares.
The Elder himself sat at the far end of the room, directly across from where I entered. Even in the dim glow floating over his cubby, I could see the inward slant of his eyebrows following me to the center of the room. There were others, too—others I vaguely recognized from before but had not directly addressed. Many of them had crowded around when the Elder was throwing his little tantrum. Now even a large portion of them were watching me with their faces etched in apprehension. It seemed as if the old man had gotten to them.
To my surprise, there was a familiar figure outlined in the shadows near the Elder’s desk. It took me only a moment more to recognize that it was Faun, standing in virtually the same spot as when Binari and I left. Our eyes locked, and we each sealed the greeting with warm smiles. She was the first to stride over and meet us.
“Greetings, friends! I did not expect to see you back so soon.”
“I didn’t expect to see you here either, Faun,” I said. “I thought you had other duties? Have you just been here the whole time?” I asked this for a deeper reason than the question implied. All videogames were centered around player experience. Many of them simply put portions of the game on pause when a player was not interacting with or in close vicinity to them. I wondered if Faun and the others in that room were just left virtually frozen from the moment I walked out until the moment I walked back in. It was a crazy notion, as real as these characters appeared to me, but in the end, they were nothing but groups of code.
“I did have duties,” she replied. “They were only in the city this time, though, and I have already come back to seek more duties outside the city from Elder Frey. It is fortunate timing that the two of us—the three of us,” she corrected, nodding to Binari, “would happen to—”
“Enough!” Frey stomped up from behind the young woman. I had not seen him approach until he was within arm’s reach. “So? What do you have to say, boy? Did you investigate this slave trading post or whatever it was?”
I absent-mindedly clenched a fist, but before I was able to transfer that bottled tension into words to spit in the man’s face, Binari took a half-step forward with one leg between him and me and spoke on my behalf. She explained everything we had seen in the desert—the Gray Favor’s henchmen, the otherwise empty river area, her visions, and my ability to tell tree branches what to do. Frey listened with his arms crossed, huffing or rolling his eyes at any mention of me. When Binari got to the part about my sudden magical power, he could not contain himself any longer.
“You really expect me to believe this lout has inherent magical powers and can harness them without any training? What kind of moron do you take me for?” he barked.
“Such things have happened before!” Binari said. This was the most aggressive I had seen her face. She was clearly losing her patience with the old man. “Young druids-to-be are seen doing such things all the time—at less than one-fourth his age, I might add! The same goes for channelers and psionics and sometimes even elementalists. You simply refuse to believe Si1ence is capable of inborn talents because you do not like him!”
There were grumblings among the crowd of onlookers. As before, many members of the Presence had drawn close to spectate. Mirtha was among them, but now she stood on the outer edge of the huddling mass of magic users and quietly watched things unfold.
“Bah! Calm yourself, woman! I will not pretend as if I do not trust this rogue stranger, but my feelings on his supposed powers are another matter altogether! These examples you mention—young druids and channelers and the like—all of them are raised in societies conducive to growing one’s magical potential. They do not need training to harness the first inklings of their powers because their communities revolve around those traits. This backwoods marauder understands nothing of magic and its ways! There is no chance on earth or heaven that he could make use of any latent abilities within him. Most people who have some sort of magical potential grow old and die without ever knowing of it because it is so far removed from their lives.”
“So,” Binari con
tinued, “what you are saying is that it isn’t that you don’t believe he has powers, but you doubt that he could harness them if he did?” She was grinning, knowing she had him logically trapped in a way. To admit that he was willing to believe I had powers at all would surely be a defeat for the man.
He returned her question with a long frigid stare and finally said through gritted teeth, “He might. I cannot say for sure one way or the other. He might. He might now. What I’m saying for certain is that I know he did not cause branches to bend to his will, as you have described. I am more inclined to belief that it was merely the stirrings of the wind.”
“I know what wind looks like,” Binari said. “This was no wind. This was deliberate.”
“Well, perhaps it was simply the trees responding to his command of their own will?” he argued. “You said yourself that they moved to shade you when you bathed, supposedly for your privacy. Perhaps when it was the boy’s turn to bathe, he asked them to let the sunlight back in and the trees obliged him through no magic of his own. You said this happened at the Holy Pool. This alternative explaining appears far more plausible to me.”
“But I felt it when I made the command. I felt the magic.” This was the first time I had spoken since Binari gave her account of the events.
“Bah!” Frey spat. “And whose word do I have to rely on for that claim? Yours alone? Bah!” He waved me away. “That is all I have to say to you.”
There was more hushed chattering among the crowd. One man wearing an off-white robe who looked to be far older than Frey and an equal amount meeker was the first to address the group as a whole.
“Perhaps there is merit to the young man’s claim,” he said. “I would not be so quick to judge his outward appearance. Stranger things have happened . . . Need I remind everyone of the Savant of Doron?”
Another man in the group, this one closer to middle-age and wearing a silver robe, scoffed at the notion, saying emphatically, “That man’s powers were exaggerated, and the details of his early life have been changed so much over the centuries that no one knows what, if anything, is true about any of it. Let us not bring up myths in an attempt to defend this boy’s blatant lies!”
“You know, your hard-nosed skepticism is not always necessary, Mertyn,” said the first man, leaving it at that.
“I have to agree with Mertyn,” said a young woman wearing a green robe. “What Binari and this Si1ence fellow are claiming is virtually unheard of. I think, if any of it is true at all—and I do not believe that Binari would lie to us—that what Elder Frey suggested as an alternative is far more likely. The trees have already been shown to move of their own accord.”
The deliberations went on for another ten minutes or so, with most of them refusing to accept that I was the source of the magic. No one seemed to care about the missing slave ships, or our close call with death, or even the fact that someone was seen planning to invade the very room we were standing in. No one gave a rat’s ass about anything but their petty squabbling. It reminded me a lot of a certain type of people I knew back home, a group which is unfortunately concentrated in the gaming community. I fondly referred to them as big-dick nerds.
Big-dick nerds are the kind of people who will argue about anything and nothing all at once. They’re the kind of pedantic assholes who will get caught up arguing over semantics just so they can feel good about themselves by basking in the glory of being right about some random bullshit. For example, I could be at a party with a big-dick nerd I’m acquainted with when another comes up and asks me what year of school I’m in. Being a big-dick nerd, I know he’s only asking me this so that he can immediately establish a false sense of seniority over me if he is in a higher year than me. Having just started my second year, I would tell him that I am a sophomore, but my big-dick nerd acquaintance chimes in saying that technically I am still a freshman since I only took 26 hours of courses my previous year, and I need 30 credit hours to be considered a sophomore. Then I would turn back to see the shit-eating grin of the other big-dick nerd in response to this. They’re fun people to be around, if you can’t tell. I do not miss having to interact with them on a daily basis back in college.
Anyway, among this stupid arguing that was going on all around me, I gathered this much: Faun and a few strangers were willing to believe me or at least believe that I believed what I was saying, whether it was true or not. Most of the others seemed to be on the verge of tarring and feathering me. I just wanted to get on with my day and play the damn game. Progressing in my quest would not have been a bad thing either. It was seeming less and less likely that I was going to get anywhere in the Temple Hearth, so when Frey turned back to finally address me once again, I did not argue with his decree.
“You must leave, boy!” he commanded, pointing toward the door. “I will not banish you from the town, but you are not to enter this temple again. Not everyone here will agree with this course of action, but I think it is safe to say that the majority will back my decision.”
There was an overwhelming murmur of consent. Binari and Faun protested on my behalf, but they were the only ones to do so. Even those who were willing to give me the benefit of the doubt stayed quiet then, not wanting to risk the wrath of their colleagues. I could understand that. Being some random stranger from off the street, I wasn’t worth it to any of these people.
Elder Frey held up a hand to silence the two girls, but they only stopped arguing when I put a hand on each of their shoulders.
“Hey,” I said. “It’s not a big deal. I have other stuff I need to do. I’ve got a feeling about this Conn Felvid guy, and I think it’d be best now to chase him down on my own. I don’t need to be here, and more importantly, my ability doesn’t need permission. It’s a part of me.”
“But, Si1ence, where will you search for this man? My vision gave little indication of where he was going, and it is not like I can simply track him down at will. At least let me accompany you. There is little left for me in this depressing place as well,” Binari said.
Faun added, “Let me join the both of you. Perhaps my modest tracking skills can be of some assistance.”
I held up a hand, saying, “I want to do this on my own for a bit—really get to know the lay of the land and see what there is to see. I might find the guy; I might not. Who knows? I expect I’ll return to the city in a few days’ time. When I do, I’ll send for the both of you. All right?”
They did not argue anymore, reluctantly accepting my decision. I took my leave of all of them, setting out for Edmund’s. When we returned to the city, Horan told us that he would be there after finishing up a few things around the barrack’s stables. I hoped that enough time had passed and he was already there because I was wanting to borrow Sleeper from him and set out as soon as possible.
9
Horan was at Edmund’s as expected. I was beginning to believe that that was where I could find the old Stable Master any time that I needed him. He permitted me to use Sleeper without argument, but took a moment to urge me to bring him along, warning me that the fields of the Evermeadows and the surrounding areas were not always as inviting as they seemed. I was reminded of both my bout with the Mangler upon my arrival and the fight with the pack of six-legged wolves when I first met the man. They had been easy enough, though I did not know how I would fare against that same pack of wolves if it were just me and my two swords. His warning gave me pause, but in the end I decided to stick with my original plan and go it alone—at least for a time.
I thanked him again for lending me Sleeper and assured him that I would return the horse safely, knowing there was no way I could be certain to make good on that promise. He knew this of course, and waved the notion away, saying, “Whatever happens happens. I hope you find what you’re looking for and that ole’ Sleeper serves you as well as he has me in our short time together.”
Before I turned to leave, he drew a folded piece of worn canvas from his pocket and said, “Take this. It’ll help you find your way back and
possibly even help you get to where you’re going.”
Curious, I took the rugged canvas and opened it up to find a map of the area inked on its inner folds. “Thanks, Horan. This’ll be unbelievably helpful.”
He returned my wide-eyed appreciation with a knowing smile, and said, “That’s not just any map, friend. It’s a magical map. See there?” He laid a finger on the page. “Right now it only shows you Cul’Maryn, but once you pass through any of these exits”—he paused to point to where the four city gates were represented in more or less each cardinal direction—“it will zoom out, in a sense, and show you a wider view of Tel’Maryn. Once you come to a new place within this Zone, it will zoom in to show you the finer details of that place. Now—and this is important—it only shows you areas you have explored, at least mostly. All unexplored areas will either be blank or have no more than a name written over them if they are well-known. Some of these unexplored places will have pictures representing their bigger landmarks. For example, if you were to travel to my home Zone of Unungr, you would immediately see the Temple of Stone filled in on the map of the area, even though you have yet to go there. But that does not mean you would be able to zoom in on the Temple of Stone until you travel to it. Understand?”
I nodded my head. “Yeah, I get it. I’ve seen similar maps before,” I said, and then, not to sound as if I were bashing his gift, I added, “but none quite like this one. It’s the best I’ve seen so far. So, you’re saying that I can zoom in on places that I have explored, even if I’m not currently inside of them? Could I also zoom out if I wanted to?”
“Ah, good question,” he said, moving his finger down to where the southern gate was represented. “This is where we came in at. You see where it reads ‘To Tir’Nadrun,’ which is the forest? If you want to zoom out to the forest, simply tap any of these gates”—he pressed his finger down on the southern gate and the map changed to a bird’s-eye, inked-in representation of the entire forest we were standing in, the city now represented by an icon no larger than my balled fist—“and it zooms us out. Simply do it again on an area anywhere outside the forest, and it will reveal to you the entire Zone. The same goes for the opposite.” He tapped the city, and it zoomed back in to where it had been before.
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