The Academy Volume One

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The Academy Volume One Page 8

by Maxine Mansfield


  Time after time, Uthiel raised his enormous shield as fire flew through the air, splintering the embers into a harmless rain of sparks. Many of the observers stood and stomped their feet, chanting, and cheering.

  Briar wiggled in frustration from inside her hiding place. Though she could easily see Uthiel and even Sarco from her vantage point, it was difficult to gauge the reaction of the crowd. She scooted from side to side, trying to find a position where she could observe everything at the same time, but she couldn’t, especially if she wanted to remain hidden.

  Instead, she inched out, just a tiny bit more.

  The Wizard Sarco was just starting his flight-and-spin maneuver through the air when Briar leaned out a tad too far and immediately realized how visible she was to the two men. She watched, horrified, as her eyes locked with Uthiel’s startled gaze.

  She grimaced as he suddenly stopped midway through a spin. Confusion masked his face. Briar cringed, as she heard him utter her name.

  At that very moment, Sarco’s foot connected firmly with Uthiel’s nose. Her handsome paladin couldn’t have even known what hit him as he toppled over and landed with a thud on the ground.

  Dead silence reigned in the arena for the time it took seven grains of sand to trickle through the hourglass. Then complete pandemonium broke out.

  The crowd roared, and many people even jumped the boundary of the bleachers to flood onto the floor of the arena. Master Magician Thagi ran forward and knelt at Uthiel’s side.

  Sarco hung his head and covered his face with his hands. Headmistress Seychelle laughed, a crazed sound for certain, but a laugh, nonetheless.

  Guilt filled Briar, and she couldn’t force herself to remain still a moment longer. She scooted from her hiding place and ran to Uthiel.

  Dropping to her knees, she gently lifted his head onto her lap. Tears trickled unheeded down her cheeks and wet his face.

  Slowly, Uthiel opened his eyes.

  “What happened? Briar, is that you?” Blood dripped in a steady stream from his swiftly swelling nose, and his voice sounded groggy.

  Briar nodded. “I’m so sorry, Uthiel. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. I just wanted to watch.”

  Though he had to have been in pain, Uthiel chuckled, but the sound came out as more of a rattled choke than a laugh. “Don’t worry yourself, my lady. I’m getting quite used to discomfort when you’re near.”

  The warmth of embarrassment flowed along Briar’s neck and settled on her cheeks. She ignored it. “Why didn’t you have your protective barrier up, Uthiel?”

  “Barriers are for sissies, don’t you know, my lady? Not for big, strong paladins.” His eyes rolled back and Uthiel lost consciousness once again.

  Chapter Eight

  Briar hesitated outside the counselor’s office door before she resumed pacing.

  If Uthiel found out she was seeking help in a quest to cure what ailed him, he would be livid. But what was she supposed to do? Simply forget it?

  No. She couldn’t and wouldn’t forget about her quest. She would find a remedy. After the havoc she’d caused in the arena two days past, she doubly owed him.

  Finding a cure was all she could think about―that, and the memory of making love with him. The afternoon with Uthiel had been wonderful, amazing, life changing, and the idea that he could never find the sweet release he’d given her was too horrible to comprehend.

  Tears clouded her eyes, as they had every time she’d thought about it during the nights since. She must find a way to help, she simply must.

  Skipping her Bandaging Wounds 101 class probably wasn’t the smartest way to accomplish her goal, but this time slot was the only one available the entire week, and right now another week might as well be a lifetime.

  The door opened suddenly, and a sweet, musical voice from within beckoned. “Do come in, Miss Tumbleweed.”

  Pink. The entire room was pink. Not just plain pink, but every shade and texture of the color. Briar had never visited her guidance counselor, so she certainly hadn’t known what to expect.

  Cotton candy came to mind, and hair ribbons, and bubblegum. A rich pink covered the walls, and the cushiony, white-pink velvet carpet below her feet attested to the lusciousness of the room.

  A corner fountain featured a beautiful and blushingly naked lady continuously pouring a pink concoction into a foaming pool. Pink bubbles floated, partially covering two other women. The three of them bathed and touched each other in places that made Briar blush along with them. She quickly looked away.

  The color didn’t stop with the room’s décor, either. The woman walking toward her, although absolutely stunning, was also head-to-toe pink. From her cascading curls, to her perky-pointed ears, to her princess-style gown, she was a passionately pink perfection. Even her skin glowed with a pale, rosy shimmer.

  The only non-pink things about her were her eyes. They were a startling, lovely, deep ocean blue.

  She held out a manicured pink hand to Briar. “Might I introduce myself, Miss Tumbleweed? I am Sorceress Fransisca. How might I be of assistance to you today?”

  Briar took the offered hand and dropped into a curtsy. “Thank you for seeing me on such short notice, Sorceress Fransisca. I have a…a…a…friend who knows someone who has a problem he doesn’t know how to solve. I know you don’t normally deal with sexual issues, but I’m hoping you’ll have some advice for me, or at least be able to point me in the right direction.”

  A sudden wave of dizziness overcame Briar as the room―and even the sorceress herself―changed before her eyes.

  Green. Everything turned…green. And not just one shade of green, but all of them.

  Sorceress Fransisca’s emerald gown glittered and swished as she made her way to a dark green, high-backed chair and sat down. Her hair was now short, curly, and the loudest lime-green Briar had ever seen.

  All that remained unchanged about the woman were her glittering blue eyes.

  Even the room was different. Gone were the bubbles. In their place, bright green balloons of all shapes and sizes floated upward. The floor below her feet was a verdant patch of grass, and the fountain now boasted three green male gnomes squirting each another with a mysterious, pale green liquid.

  Briar watched for a moment before she realized what the liquid actually was, and just what the masturbating, naughty little fellows were pumping in order to squirt it everywhere. She quickly looked away.

  The sound of Sorceress Fransisca’s voice snapped Briar back to attention.

  “Just what is your friend’s problem?”

  Briar blushed to the very roots of her hair. “He can’t find release, ma’am.”

  Sorceress Fransisca smiled encouragingly to Briar. “Go on, then, tell me of his situation.”

  For the next fifteen minutes, Briar told and embellished, and retold Uthiel’s problem until she could not think of one more word to say.

  Finally falling silent, she waited to hear her counselor’s advice. It wasn’t long in coming.

  “Hmm. I can understand your friend’s dilemma. As you said, he has already been to see a True Healer. There are times we simply must accept what fate has dealt us and make the best of what we have left.”

  Tears stung Briar’s eyes, as she nervously twisted at the hem of her tunic. “Oh, no, I can’t accept it. I gave my word that I would find a way to heal him. There must be something I can do.”

  Fransisca tapped her lip with a finger for a moment. “You may not be able to help him, my dear. Guilt is a very powerful dark magic, and sometimes impossible to overcome. I know of no incantations or potions that can touch deep guilt.”

  Briar shook her head. “There must be something, anything you can tell me that I might at least try?”

  The counselor was silent for a moment before continuing, “My dear, if your heart is truly set on trying anything, I suggest you seek out High Mystic Purrell. He’s known far and wide for his advice on situations concerning, well, you know, problems with male…private parts.�
� She waved her hand as if embarrassed to even discuss the matter.

  Relieved, Briar stood and curtsied before Sorceress Fransisca. “Thank you for your advice. It’s greatly appreciated. I’ll make an appointment with High Mystic Purrell as soon as possible.”

  The sorceress also rose, and, in the blink of an eye, both the woman and the room turned blue―brilliant, blinding blue. Briar purposefully avoided glancing toward the fountain but couldn’t stop from gaping at the woman who had once again transformed herself.

  Fransisca’s baby-blue hair was now drawn back and up in a fashionable ponytail that hung all the way to her waist and swished when she acknowledged Briar with a nod. The sorceress almost looked like a dark-elf, with the deep, indigo-blue skin typical of that race.

  It took Briar a moment to realize Sorceress Fransisca was still speaking to her.

  “…concerning the information I’ve imparted to you about High Mystic Purrell, well, it’s most important that, no matter what the man may say or do, you do not get close enough for him to touch you with that pointer of his. For, if you do, you may find yourself in a situation not of your choosing.”

  Briar gulped and nodded, wishing desperately she’d paid better attention to the entire conversation.

  Taking her leave of Sorceress Fransisca, Briar headed to Healing the Soul class.

  She looked forward to seeing Uthiel but also felt shy and more than a little guilty.

  Was it right or fair to intervene in someone else’s life when he hadn’t asked for your help?

  Probably not.

  But the stubborn man didn’t know what was good for him. Briar knew it was her duty to ensure he got what he needed. He would thank her for it later.

  Wouldn’t he?

  ****

  He was already in their cubicle when Briar arrived, and he looked devastatingly handsome as he sat, relaxed and cross-legged, on the bed. Large candles on both ends of the cubicle danced shadows across his face.

  Briar’s breath caught. His eyes appeared darker and lips fuller than normal. How could one man be so gorgeous? Except, of course, for his still quite swollen nose, and his lack of eyebrows.

  Briar grimaced, her guilt stabbing uncomfortably at her.

  His voice carried her back to reality.

  “Are you going to stand there gaping, my lady, or join me? And what do you think we did to earn candles? Although I do question the wisdom of having anything flammable in the same vicinity as you,” he laughed.

  Briar blushed at the reminder of her propensity to do damage with anything capable of producing a blaze. And if the fire damage to his face hadn’t been enough, now she was meddling in Uthiel’s personal life.

  Guilt infused her. When she’d gone to her counselor’s office, it had been with the very best of intentions. But then, hadn’t she already given the poor man more grief than he was due?

  She crossed her fingers and decided to be honest and tell Uthiel all about her meeting with Sorceress Fransisca as soon as today’s class was over. For now, though, all she wanted was to have him to herself for a little while, so she could prove to him she wasn’t always a hopeless klutz.

  “You’re safe today, dear Paladin.” She smiled and took a seat beside him on the bed.

  Briar was surprised to see Headmistress Seychelle walk into the room, along with the same group of people who’d also been in the arena just two days past. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask Uthiel if he’d known the Board would be in class today when she heard Mr. Chamman rustling his papers and getting ready to begin his lecture.

  The deep baritone of the instructor’s voice resonated throughout the room. “It’s a pleasure to have our Headmistress and the Board observing our class today. Welcome to you all.” He nodded in the direction of the conglomeration of people lining the walls.

  “Getting to the root of the problem, how do we accomplish this?” Mr. Chamman hesitated a moment and glanced from cubicle to cubicle. “In order to heal a soul, one must ascertain the extent of the soul’s damage. So how do we go about learning where, when, and how damage occurred? It is imperative we understand these things in order to effect a true and permanent healing.”

  Uthiel squirmed beside her. Without taking her gaze from the teacher, Briar placed an understanding hand over his. Interlocking her fingers with him and giving a gentle squeeze, she smiled as he relaxed once more beside her.

  The lecture continued. “We’ve already demonstrated a couple of techniques for developing trust―and there will be more trust exhibitions in the near future―but today I wish to show you what I meant when I spoke of delving deeper into a problem to get to the core hurt.” The instructor cleared his throat. “There are many ways to go about exploring the core hurt, but one of the most effective is to simply take the source inside yourself or put yourself inside the source.”

  Again he paused and made a point of glancing directly at each individual cubical before continuing. “You may be wondering what this technique is supposed to accomplish.”

  Mr. Chamman placed a hand against his heart, and his voice rose an octave. “By entering or being entered, you are allowing your client to receive your trust, your caring, and most importantly―although it can take many different forms―your love. Because without love for your subject, there can be no healing, no understanding. Giving your body as a receptacle of warmth, comfort, and love can effectively heal all manner of hurts.”

  Mr. Chamman grew silent, allowing his words to sink deeply into his students’ minds. Briar nodded. To give of oneself in order to heal someone else made perfect sense to her.

  The instructor turned toward the Board of Directors and extended a hand. “Today, class, it’s my great pleasure to have with us the renowned Wizard Glacio and his talented, lovely wife, Minstrel Idelette. They are visiting the school for a short time and have graciously agreed to give us a demonstration of the Offering of the Body. Would you all please give them a warm welcome as they make their way to the platform?”

  Applause filled the air as the unique couple stepped from among the other board members and walked to center stage.

  Now that they were in the spotlight, Briar was captivated by the sheer presence of the guests. Glacio was a large, brooding barbarian whose blood-red, embroidered-silk wizard’s robe floated inches above the floor. His hair was as black as the night and hung loose and flowing down his back. Even through his robe, the hint of corded, bulging muscles enticed her. He was frightening in his fierce beauty.

  On the other hand, his wife, Idelette, was music personified. Lilting, playful, and uplifting. Like a breath of fresh air, she danced onto the platform. Graceful and lovely beyond measure, melodic song resonated from her. It was not so much heard, Briar noted, but more a vibration felt deep within the soul.

  The spotlight dimmed slightly. The wizard raised his hands and brought them together. Lightning flashed and wind blew. The minstrel opened her mouth and out poured a rhapsody of deep, fast, hard passion.

  Briar didn’t realize she was squeezing Uthiel’s hand so tightly until he leaned over and whispered, “Relax, my lady. I’m right here beside you. You’re safe with me.”

  She leaned her head against his shoulder, forced herself to breathe, and watched.

  In a magical swirl, the couple’s clothing fell away, and they danced to a hypnotic melody in naked splendor.

  Slowly Glacio brought Idelette down beside him and their limbs intertwined, hands touching, lips kissing, and fingers caressing. She came up over him and took his cock into her mouth. The veins along the side of his shaft pulsed in rhythm to the song.

  Though the wizard’s voice was no more than a whisper in the classroom, it boomed as if magnified inside the cubicles. “That’s the way…oh, yes, take it all, baby. Suck that cock. You know you love it.”

  Briar’s pulse quickened and her breath came in quick spurts. The junction between her own legs throbbed. She leaned forward, not wanting to miss a moment of the fascinating action, and watched Idelett
e stroke, caress, and suckle the large barbarian cock.

  Without preamble, Idelette rose above Glacio and positioned his pulsating member at her own junction, then slid down its length until her pussy completely sheathed it.

  She smiled into the face of her lover. “Fuck me, Glacio. Fuck me like it’s the first time.”

  The wizard returned her smile. “You know I’m powerless to refuse you anything when you talk dirty to me, Idelette. I’m going to fuck this pussy of yours so long and hard, you won’t be able to walk for a week.”

  He leaned in and kissed her tenderly. “But don’t fret, my love. I’ll gladly carry you wherever you may need to go.”

  The music changed and became a spirited march as Idelette rode her barbarian, up and down, as if he were a steed.

  Briar’s breath came hard and fast as her fingers tingled against the warmth of Uthiel’s hand. With every downstroke the minstrel made, Briar’s insides contracted, and with the upstrokes, a fine sheen of sweat broke out on her brow as she rode her own intense throbbing.

  “Did you remember to turn off your shield, Briar?” Uthiel whispered.

  Briar nodded, not taking her eyes from the platform.

  Without another word, Uthiel lifted her onto his lap. He freed his cock, raised her tunic, and slid her down its length.

  Briar gasped in surprise, then sighed in pleasure. Placing his hands on her sides, he guided her as her own rhythm matched that of the minstrel.

  Faster and faster the march played, and faster and faster Briar rode until the music in her own ears became a deafening roar. The muscles of her pussy contracted intensely around Uthiel as sparks of delight shot outward.

  She slumped back against him, cradled safely in his arms.

  The performance continued on the stage. With Uthiel still hard and deep within her, Briar absentmindedly watched the wizard and the minstrel continue their demonstration on the stage.

 

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