Quest for the Dragon Soul Pt. 01

But since they shared language of lovers, Khaln shifted his hips and Preya followed the motion until she was under him. She wrapped her legs around his waist, ensuring that he never withdrew to deeply from her pussy and that his full length served her pleasure. Khaln was oblivious to other emotions while he plunged into Preya's pussy - it was an abyss that was slowly drawing him to the edge of bliss. The ferocity of his thrusting, the friction of his cock inside her pussy, the unnaturalness of their union pushed Preya into the arms of orgasm and her entire body trembled as she came. As her orgasm made her pussy gush with fluid and strangle Khaln's cock, she dug her nails deeply in to the flesh of his shoulder and ran her hands down towards his buttocks, drawing eight rivers of blood down his back.

The sudden tearing of his skin pulled Khaln from the onslaught of his own orgasm and granted him a clarity of vision. His mother lay beneath him and his blood was suddenly on her hands - Khaln pulled himself from her grasp and he looked down upon her. Preya was arching her back and flexing her legs at the knees, his cock still sliding in and out of her cunt as she savoured every little twitch of ecstasy the friction provoked. Khaln reached for her knees and pried her feet apart. He held his mother's legs as wide apart as he could and moved his pelvis with a slow, deliberate pace, allowing his entire hard cock to almost slip out before delving back in towards her womb.

Preya rested her fingers on her clit as her son tortured her with his agonizingly slow pace - her breath became laboured and she furiously rubbed her clit while Khaln just moved deliberately. She could feel another orgasm growing from her pussy as she marvelled and hated how his muscles pulsed with unearthly strength beneath the flickering candlelight.

Khaln watched as his mother pleasured herself - despite the abundant beauty of her bliss he felt an odd revulsion at the sight of her. He pulled out of her and unceremoniously flipped her onto her hands and knees before reentering her.

Preya bit her lower lip when she felt her son's cock enter her from behind - it was the way animals fucked. The angle he achieved made her moan when he started to move in her. She remembered this was how Khaln's blood sires had taken her. She felt Khaln grab her hips as he fucked her, his pace increasing steadily with every few strokes.

"Who was he?" Khaln demanded as his balls began to smack against his mother's ass. "My father! Who was he?"

Preya heard her son's voice through the haze of bliss - his question stirred an echo of a memory. "I don't know! They were many - knights of the Vanguard Draconis. They had three of us and they took us one after the other."

Khaln was driving into his mother's pussy while her words drifted around him like a cloud - he grasped at the confusion but his thoughts were mired as his pace quickened, hounded by the onset of his own orgasm. Preya was no longer his mother, nor was she even person - she had become a vessel, much as she had twenty-two years ago.

Yvrer Dharrec had told Khaln that Preya had accompanied him and their firstborn Kieir on a trip to Videsh'Achar to sell salted beef and lamb in the Spring Market. There, Preya had become popular for her beauty and wit - she had also captured the attention of a nobleman who had spirited her off for 3 days and nights. Yvrer left the child with his sister and had scoured the city until he found Preya, dazed but aware, in the same place he had last seen her. Nine months later, Khaln was born.

Now, Khaln was an amoral creature, fucking his mother. His and Preya's moans and grunts painted an unintelligible landscape to the night creatures that had been drawn the the burning pyre pits.

Khaln pounded away at his mother's sex, his member now enslaved to the lascivious motions of his desire while he felt the walls of Preya's cunt quiver and be ready to receive his come. He kept a hand on her hips while grabbing a fistful of her long black hair and he yanked her head back.

"Oh yes! Yes!" Preya screamed as her son bent her body in two - her pussy pulsed and her body was shaken as tremors of pleasure shot across her skin and into her limbs. Her fluids ran freely from her cunt, anointing Khaln's thighs as he slammed his cock towards her womb.

His mother's constricting pussy stripped Khaln of any composure and he pulled her hair harshly as his cock finally split open and a rush of his come sought to fill every nook and cranny of her nethers. With its release, Khaln felt a weariness lift from his heart as his orgasm carried much of the hatred he felt for Preya away into the afterglow of bliss.

Once spent, Khaln pulled out of his mother's pussy and collapsed to the ground, the aftermath of this odd love battle leaving him more weakened and dazed than an entire day of warfare. As he succumbed to the veil of slumber, his last sight was of his mother hovering over him.

Preya watched her son as his come dripped down her thighs before moving to the opposite end of the dwelling to find the amphora of wine and drink a full throat full of the red liquid. She felt exhausted but also tormented by a panoply of confusing emotions regarding Khaln - how could she have let herself bed him? Had she sought the importance she had garnered when the Vanguard Draconis had taken her? Or had she finally bonded with him the only way the twisted line between love and hate had allowed her to? She looked to a far corner of the room, beyond the burnt out candles of the Sil'hazat ceremony - the hilt of Khaln's sword glinted in the moonlight. Perhaps using a sword to cut him finally out of her life would give her peace.

Instead, she emptied the wine and fell against the wall, her thoughts heavy as she surrendered to sleep.

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Khaln awoke, groggy from the previous night's tumult, as hazy morning sunlight broke through the cracks in the boarded windows. He stood, his knees wobbly as he stretched before letting his body fall forward, he then raised his upper body towards the ceiling by supporting himself on his hands - he then raised his buttocks so his body formed a triangular shape supported by his hands and feet. Khaln then dropped his buttocks while thrusting his shoulders forward, bringing him back to his original position.

He continued the sequence of movements for a few minutes, his thoughts centred around his breathing as the muscles in his thighs and shoulders loosened. His body was soon drenched in sweat when he finally gained his feet and stood, surveying the dwelling. Khaln noticed that his mother was absent, but also that his black leather chest armour was resting in the corner along with sword and two daggers.

His mother had brought his weapons in from were they were stored on the wagon - his mind skirted the question as to why she had not killed him in his sleep after they fucked. He realized they were more strangers now than ever before while he found some salted beef in a cupboard and broke it with a flat bread wrapped in cloth. As he finished the bread and meat, Khaln came to realize that his past was as unimportant as was his future under the rule of the Call of Skaelor. The name Dharrec was going to die today and he and Preya would be free to go to their separate fates.

Khaln slipped into his britches and donned his armour, paying attention to the bindings that went down the right sides of the two pieces. He then wrapped the heavily buckled belt around his waist and slipped one dagger in the sheath on his right thigh and another in the sheath across his lower back. Finally, he slipped the sash that held his sword and scabbard over his left shoulder so the blade landed on his left thigh. He then wrapped his forearms in while cloth before adorning the metal arm bands he had won as a soldier. Each band was bronze in colour and carried the etchings of dragons. His fur covered boots were the last piece he slipped on.

He drew his sword - the blade was twice the length of his sword arm and glinted in the sunlight. It was a fine blade and it had bathed in the blood of many a Scything Soul. Khaln sheathed the blade and committed himself - he would seek out the Vanguard Draconis.

Khaln rummaged beneath the counters until he found the storage for the pails of lamp oil - looking over his shoulder, he grabbed a pail and began to throw the oil onto the walls of the dwelling. He then dumped oil onto the floor. Like in the fires of a dragon's breath, his past would burn and illuminate the path to his future - the Call of Skaelor be damned.

But as Khaln reached for a still smouldering candle, he heard moans from outside - a woman's moans and the grunts of men.

He rushed to a far window that opened to the yard and his eyes grew wide: six men were about the yard. Three were pissing on the smoking funeral sites of his father and brothers.

Another two had undone their clothing and his mother was trapped between them. Preya had been bent over and the flimsy dress she wore the night before was tattered and torn while a large, haggard man held one of her legs in the air while he thrust his grime covered cock into her moist pussy while the man in front of her had yanked her head back by grabbing a handful of her jet black hair and was ramming his manhood down the back of her throat. Tears streaked down Preya's cheeks as she gagged from the smelly cock in her spit dripping mouth.

All seemed to be presided by a bulky man sitting on a massively muscled horse like those that were slaughtered at the cavalry rush at the battle of Melzay. All the men wore the furs of various animals about their shoulders and their exposed skin was covered in red and green pigment in varying designs. Their weapons were forged of black iron and had hilts of storm wood the colour of fresh bone. The man on the horse was adorned with the smokey pelt of a wind-wolf. A Yarczian warlord had descended from the far north.

"I told you, Preya," the mounted warlord said in heavily accented common tongue. "If your tribute was not ready, your flesh would be the price, whore!"

While the warlord had been speaking and dismounting his steed, Khaln had felt a rage come over him - had others witnessed this, they would have noticed pools of red light erupt beneath his skin.

Moving with a swiftness and stealth thus unknown to him, Khaln had climbed out of a window facing away from the yard and made his way up the straw covered roof of the dwelling. Spying the rape of his mother, he lept from midway across the roof and twisted in mid air while simultaneously unsheathing his sword.

Khaln landed between his mother and the posturing warlord. Hearing the heathen gasp in surprise, Khaln moved with concise precision, drawing an arc with his sword outstretched at shoulder level while pivoting on himself. The head of the man fucking Preya from behind rose into the air as it was carried aloft by a crimson geyser of arterial spray. The man in her mouth shouted while Khaln brought his sword high above his head in a high guard and dropped the blood covered blade onto the man's head, cleaving his face in two down to his sternum. Blood and brain splattered the ground and Preya's shoulders.

Khaln turned to face the warlord, but he had fallen to the ground and was backing away towards his horse - screams arose from Khaln's left and he turned and faced the men who had been desecrating the graves of his family. Two had spears and one an axe - the spear men moved to flank him while the axe wielder stood directly in front of him.

Khaln suddenly pivoted his sword towards the ground as the spear on his right was thrust towards him - he managed to deflect the spear tip with his upturned blade while reaching beneath his sword arm with his left hand and grabbing the spear. While redirecting the spear's momentum, Khaln fell to one knee so he could be side by side with the spear man - Khaln drew a tight semi-circle over his head and as the sword reached ground level, it caught the spear man mid thigh and sliced through the leg like steel cuts through water.

During this assault, the spear man on Khaln's left had lunged forward, only to find himself impaled on the redirected spear of his companion. The spear tip had broken through the man's back, entrails and pieces of destroyed organs and spine falling to the ground in smatterings of blood. But the left spear man's weapon managed to cut through Khaln's left shoulder, spraying blood across his face.

Khaln hissed in pain but then felt his vision go blurry as the axe man booted him in the head and sent him sprawling to the ground. The axe man lept over the spears of his fallen comrades and landed his doubled bladed weapon in the ground were Khaln had been.

Khaln had dropped his sword and was rolling away from the axe wielder, gaining precious distance while the Yarczian's weapon missed him by a hair four times.

The Yarczian axe man stopped swinging his weapon when Khaln stopped rolling and made his way to his hands and knees - the Yarczian came to kick Khaln in the ribs before beheading him, but those precious moments were all Khaln needed.

As the boot came, Khaln threw his upper body backwards so his buttocks fell toward his ankles. The Yarczian's kick only found empty space but Khaln, drawing the dagger sheathed in the small of his back, was able to stab the axe man in the calf. The Yarczian screamed and fell backwards, wrenching the dagger from Khaln's tired grip - but Khaln threw himself forward and pulled his other dagger from his right thigh. He had managed to manoeuvre between the Yarczian's legs just as the barbarian realized what was happening and was bringing his axe down in a two handed grip, determined to split Khaln's skull in half. But Khaln caught the Yarczian's wrists, halting the coming blow with his outstretched left hand while pressing his dagger into the heathen's stomach. The Yarczian screamed when Khaln pulled the sharp blade back, splitting the fallen heathen open to his groin.

Khaln stood, wrenching the axe from his dying enemy's grip and wiped his dagger clean of blood on his calf. He then looked down at the terrified heathen - sheathing his dagger, Khaln struck the axe in his enemy's skull, instantly ending his screams.

Khaln could feel his eye swelling where he had been kicked but his vision was still clear enough that he could see the Yarczian warlord staring wide eyed at his five fallen men and at the blood spattered warrior before him. But the warlord scrambled to his feet and looked over to a shocked Preya - she had crawled towards her dwelling and was using soil to wash the blood from her body. The warlord rushed to her and yanked her back by her hair as Khaln approached slowly. He had retrieved his sword and had used it to end the spear man he had injured earlier in the fight. The air was stank of drying blood and exposed viscera - scavengers could be heard rustling in the forest.

The Yarczian warlord pressed a freshly drawn knife to Preya's throat as she remained still, her chin high and her eyes focused on Khaln. He cleaned his blade clear of blood while staring into the eyes of his mother.

"Was this how you honoured your husband's sacrifice?" Khaln hissed.

"After you all ran off to war, I was alone," Preya stated flatly. "I did what I did to survive."

"Enough!" the Yarczian warlord shouted and kicked Preya behind her knee. "I am Treczyius - I am the wind from the mountain that freezes your bones! You will stay your hand or the whore dies."

Khaln let out a low grumble as he snarled at the warlord - pools of red pulsed beneath his skin.

"You are nothing," Preya said quietly as the warlord pressed his blade against the soft skin of her neck - a trickle of blood ran down her breast and beaded at her nipple before falling to the ground.

"I will not die at your hand," Preya said suddenly as she unfolded her legs and threw her head back - the top of her head struck the warlord beneath his chin with force enough to smash his jaws together, shattering what teeth he possessed. Preya then slipped her hands beneath his arm and pushed the knife away from her throat, but she was too close to the Yarczian warlord's chest and when he tossed her to the ground, his knife cut across her throat.

Khaln had covered the distance separating them and managed to catch his mother in one arm while driving his sword upwards through the warlord's lower jaw and the top of his head, piercing the wind wolf head dress he wore.

Khaln left his sword where the warlord collapsed and he gently cradled his injured mother and laid her to the ground.

"Mother," he whispered as he tore some fabric from her tattered dress and pressed it against her slashed throat.

"You still care," Preya wondered. "When I saw you arrive, I knew you would kill me."

"No, I ..."

Preya pressed a hand meekly to her son's lips. "Yes ... It was always going to be this way. Your fathers of the Vanguard Draconis told me this. You would have to orphan your past to fulfil you future."

Khaln leaned down close to his mother's ear and said: "Videsh'Achar?"

"Yes," Preya whispered as Khaln's lips touched hers in a gently kiss while his dagger slid past her breast and into her heart. Her last word was her last breath and Khaln would cherish them.

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Preya's body rested in the middle of the house she and Yvrer Dharrec had built - she was covered in a sheet of white silk and flanked by the piles of remains of the Yarczian heathens who had died at Khaln's hand. He stood outside the dwelling, a trail of lamp oil pooled at his feet while he steadied the nervous steed he had appropriated from Treczyius, the dead warlord. It was a six day ride to Videsh'Achar by the main Cardinal road, but Khaln would follow the old pastoral paths that would keep him away from the forces of the Call of Skaelor - until he reached the city.

Khaln mounted the massive horse, his sword resting confidently at his side. He noticed the occasional pulse of red illuminating the veins near the surface of his skin and he sighed, then looked over his shoulder at the sack of provisions he had taken from the house and Yarczians. He wondered if they would pursue him, or if they would more likely war amongst themselves to find a new leader. Their vengeance would come later.

Khaln cast a final, saddened glance at the dwelling he never truly thought of as home and at the silhouette of the woman he called mother and lover for one night. He pulled a candle from his belt and a flint rock from a pouch - he pressed the wick of the candle to his metallic arm band and struck the flint on the metal. The candle ignited and he dropped it to the ground. The flame found the lamp oil and a trail of fire coursed to the house. It burst into flames within seconds and was soon engulfed.

Khaln turned the horse towards the small path the led into the southern woods and that would turn westward towards the port city of Videsh'Achar.

Epilogue:

Two hooded, female figures stood on the backs of 2 Quieting Angels and watched as the small hovel flamed uncontrollably while a rider disappeared into the woods.

"He will pose problem, Matron Sonorous," one said. The wind blew her cloak and her body was voluptuous but composed of writhing shadows. Her eyes were glowing green gems from beneath the hood but her face had no other features.

"Perhaps," the Matron Sonorous said. Her figure was slim and her breasts were small and firm. Her skin was fair and delicate. "But, you are the Matron Tenebrae. The Call will have him suffer."

"He intrigues us," they said in unison. "He may lead us to the Pneuma Dracona."

*to be continued