A Maiden's Sacrifice Ch. 01

Tired of the blood and death, I ran away from the coasts, away from the crush of the city long ago. I escaped from the politics, the hate, the fear, the vitriol and the evil of men. I sought peace deep into these secluded mountain crags, where no one knew my name. After centuries of war and destruction, I only wanted rest.

Then you came along. Some priest claimed that the drought of the lower hills would end if they'd sacrificed a virgin. A young beauty sent to appease the hungry immortal who lived in the deep wood. I supposed that was me they were talking about, and you were stupid enough to volunteer.

At the height of the summer, when there hadn't been rain for months, they made you walk through the desert by yourself, fending off starved wolves, poisonous snakes, and cawing vultures that swooped from the sky with violent claws.

You were all scraped and broken by the time you reached me, persevering to rap at my door with a bone dry canteen and the last morsel of your rations long gone.

Your dress was ripped to make bandages for the scrape you got climbing the cliff. Your hair, once teasing the length of your lower back, was cut short unceremoniously to your shoulder by your own blade in order to lose a gang of coyotes that had traced your progress. They were hoping for an easy meal, but you weren't ever easy. You don't go down without a fight, just like me when I was young.

The thing was, I knew you were coming. I tried saving you the trouble of climbing this mountain many times.

I disguised myself as a beggar at the fork in the road when you started on your path. I had told you to return home. Instead, you gave me the only spare money you had for information about me. I tried to not find that endearing, speaking the truth about the legends I left behind. The tale of the savage warrior mage which held the wrath of thousands and the curse of immortality. It should have scared you off, but unfortunately, it only made you more determined.

After that, I was the merchant in the middle of the desert, who tried to warn you about strange men and the dangers of your quest. You traded me all your worldly positions except for the one book, your bag, and the necklace you wore; for a blade and more food. Noting that it'll be a longer journey than expected.

That night, you told me about your sister and how much you loved your aging parents. The firelight reflecting on your amber eyes made it seem as if your soul was infused with stardust. I tried not to stare, but I couldn't seem to remember meeting anyone more beautiful in the last few centuries. I wondered if someone had told you that, but I held my tongue.

Then you asked me about my family. They've all died centuries ago, so I muttered something incoherent.

You looked at me with pity, adding, "It sounds lonely."

"A merchant's life is on the road." I shrugged.

"Look. Tell you what, since you're traveling south, stop by my town." You said taking out a locket, "It's not far out of your way and if you give this to my mother with the message that I'm okay, telling her I'll make it. I'm sure she'll be grateful enough to cook you a meal. Hells she may adopt you if you smuggle her books. They're now banned, close to the coast."

"I can't take that, its--"

"Nonsense. I might not make it to my destination. And if I do..." you cleared your throat and added, "My dad always wanted a son, so you might just find yourself a new family." Your lips curved in a smile, but the sadness didn't leave your face.

That night, once you thought I was asleep, you raised the blade high above me and I thought you wanted to kill me. I wouldn't have been surprised. Many have tried. With one swift motion, you pierced the head of the rattler I'd ignored. It's been centuries since someone cared for my safety, and even longer since I felt a tilt in my heart.

I followed you out of curiosity after. You were not the most skilled in swords, but you were clever and quick on your feet. It surprised me you knew how to climb trees. You bundled at night in the top branches, sleeping in the hollows of the woods, or finding shelter in between the cave cracks. No matter where you ended up, however, you looked like a princess when you slept.

When the weight of the world was temporarily lifted by your subconscious, you seemed happy, and sometimes you'd smile instead of frown. More and more, I thought about what you'd look like when you actually smiled. I bet it would be breathtaking.

Then one night, the gray wolf descended to your location, driven out of their home by hunger. They stalked you, sensing weakness, but you ran with more agility than I thought possible, scrambling back in the crack along the cliff. Their heads were stuck at the entrance and you stabbed the first as it chomped and drooled over your body, growling for a meal. The effort made you faint while I dealt with the other two ravenous hounds.

I figured that was probably enough adventure for you. That you'd restock your rations with the pelts and wolf meat for your journey to the nearest village. I even left you a map on their bodies of where to go. But when you woke up, you continued to my mountain keep after thanking the gods. Those old buggers hadn't saved anyone for millennia, and I tried to not be jealous of them.

Now you were at my door, and you're so tired you can barely stand. When I opened the tall steel slabs, your fatally vast eyes widened in surprise before you collapsed in my arms.

"It's you," relief whispered from your lips right before you passed out.

You're too light for your frame, and I cursed myself for not stopping you earlier. I could have done that easily, but I had been selfish. Some point in the journey I wanted to see you reach me. I had been lonely, and I made the mistake of not saving you sooner. "I'm sorry," sounded so feeble as I laid you down on the bed and wielded magic to heal your bruises and cuts.

You slept for days, while I tended to you, before you woke up with a start.

Cutting off before I can apologize. You speak of the cult that had risen, spreading from the coasts. Trembling in fear while telling me the priest all pledge to an old evil god demanding human sacrifice, and you remind me of the sister you left behind at the mercy of vile men. Now you beg me to return to the world once more and wield justice.

"Please." You're sobbing and this is the only time I've seen you cry. Your tears burned my chest more than any poison I had ever drank and I knew then, I never want to see you sad again.

"Please," you repeat, then to my horror, you're grabbing for your blade. "If you do this, then I'll gladly give my life."

"Hold on." I hurriedly press my hand on the sharp steel, dulling it with a pulse of my magic before I yank it out of your hands. "That's very unnecessary."

"But I was told that a human sacrifice--"

"Didn't you just tell me your priests were corrupt? Why would you believe anything they told you?" My voice rises, not out of frustration for you, but more out of an itch to set all those bastard cultists on fire.

You seem to get the wrong idea and shrink from me mumbling, "They weren't the only ones."

"Who?"

"There was an old man who confirmed what I'd read. That you killed thousands and bloodshed was the only way to appease the Warrior Mage."

That was me. Rubbing my forehead, I give a heaving sigh. "You should know not to listen to advice from strange men."

You tilt your head, the silky locks of your hair bouncing on your shoulder, and ask, "Does that include or exclude you?"

I'm now glaring at you. You should cower in fear.

I've had grown men: bulking masses of muscle with blood on their hands and generals leading armies who slayed hundreds, all cower at my infamous icy gaze. Your eyes, however, scrunch in the corners, and your lips pout before you burst out laughing. It sounds like a refreshing, babbling brook. I set my face into my scowl, trying not to be affected by you.

"What now?" I manage.

"I'm sorry, I just..." You're smiling at me, and it's like the sun has found its way into the keep's corridors. You have no magic, but it doesn't make the heat I feel any less real. "I was so scared to meet you, and so ready to die that, you know... I'm not dead and you're here, and I offered you my mom's cooking in the desert so..."

The way your shoulders slack as you relax back into the dozen pillows I've piled to the bed makes me want to be one of those pillows. I look away, embarrassed to have thought about it.

"I'd also thought you'd be taller." You add.

"I am taller. I'm just seated." I growl, half annoyed, half needing to focus on something not you. I put my hand in my pocket, then felt the cool silver of your locket. "Also, I have magic, so I can be very tall." I add before I turned the idiotic phrase in my head.

What is happening to me? I conclude decades of self-imposed isolation had done nothing to my conversational skills. Sure I've popped into the pleasure houses of the major cities once in a while, but those women weren't interested in talking, once coin was on the table.

"Right," you say, choking back another round of that divine laughter.

"Here," I offer you back the necklace.

You reach to accept, but stop halfway. "You keep it. It has a photo of my family," You're blushing when you add, "And me."

I don't tell you I've already seen the contents while you were asleep, and that the four smiling faces in the picture reminded me of the family I'd lost too long ago. More than any enemy, time has killed everyone I ever loved and promises to do the same to you.

I gulp, realizing this, and I offer to take you back to your town.

"Will you get rid of the cultists?" You ask, curious.

"Yes," I say, getting up.

"How?"

"Magic, and maybe some swords and arrows. But probably magic. Fire's pretty easy." I shrug.

You're still skeptical, "But what if you get hurt or something? The cult has the ear of the King you know."

"I'm infamous across the lands, and you toiled hundred of miles to get here. Now you're questioning my abilities?" I fold my arms across my chest.

"No," You shake your head, but a guilty smirk is plastered all over that pretty face of yours.

Is it wrong that I found it cute? Or how I'm wanting to kiss that look off of your face so you'd take me seriously? I take a step back from the bed, reminding myself. I shouldn't make attachments to mortals that die.

"You have your bag," I point on the bed, and you nod recognizing it, "Here are some clothes." I point to the chair I'd been sitting in, conjuring a dress from nothing. It was a simple spell and I try not to let your impressed gasp tug the corner of my lips any higher than my casual--bland expression--would allow. "There's the bath."

I gesture to the other door leading out of the room. "Come downstairs when you're done and I'll get you home."

I move to leave but you ask, "Wait, what do I call you?"

"My name." It should be obvious.

Except you begin rattling off my title starting with, "Doom slayer of men..." and ends with "...Destroyer of All Things." There'd even been a few additions in the middle that I didn't know about. You're clearly a fan of mine.

The truth is, I haven't used my real name since before I was cursed, and your question had me thinking before I shook myself out of it, "Call me Dom." I toss the name to you before descending the spiral stairs to the kitchen.

You'll probably be hungry after the bath and want to eat something. Along the walls I can hear the copper pipes tin to life with the flush of water and I'm instantly distracted by the thought of you naked in my tub.

Suddenly eggs seemed too simple of a meal because it does nothing to help distract me. I grab for other ingredients in the cupboard, ones that will calm the pulsing strain descending into my groin, focusing on ingredients: knife blade slicing through stinging onion and pummeling a garlic with the heel of my palm. Before I knew it, rabbit stew was bubbling over the fire on low and bread was baking in the hearth. The kitchen smelled heavenly, and I realized I hadn't cooked for two in a long, long while.

Eve, has it been almost a millennium? That name too, I haven't thought of for ages, but not nearly as forgotten as my own.

"Dom?" your voice calls me out of my daze and I turn to see you wearing just a towel.

"Did the dress not fit?" I ask, trying hard to not be mesmerized by how the jeweled beads of water dripped from the tip of your hair, making little trails to the top of your perked breasts.

"No, it's fine. It's actually very lovely. I didn't know gold can just be..." you're blushing, clutching a book in your hand with white knuckles. "Anyway. I umm, was wondering if you can sign this." Walking over, you're sucking in your rose pink lips and I take the volume from your hand.

'Journey of a Thousand Suns.' The title gleamed, along with the by line: Eveleen Loza.

My fingers grazing the name on the cover of the witch that cursed me. "It's not my book." I explain, eyes downcast. "It was her book. Eve's journal of our time together."

"Was her story real?" you ask, "Those years you spent together?"

I nod, flipping through the pages. Printed was the story of how we gained power, battling monsters and men alike. How Eve and I built an empire. "This was the journey, the details of our rise. She wanted to inspire new heroes to stand up for what was right by retelling our tales."

"It worked. I was named after her, I'm Eveleen too and this book got me here," you say.

"Heroism is cursed. Don't try it or else you'll end up just as doomed as me." Closing my eyes, I can still hear the screams and chaos from the palace I once ruled, "Right after she wrote it, our friends betrayed us. Eve wanted to ensure that I lived, so she sacrificed all the magic and her life, cursing me to a world without her in it."

"It's not a curse," you say, and I can feel your hand touching mine. "It's a blessing for the rest of us who need hope." You move closer, one hand on my face and you tip your head. There's want in your eyes.

Desire I haven't felt for years rush back into me like it never left and you tell me with parted lips, "I need you." At the crush of your kiss, it felt like a dam bust open and my chest floods with your caress and your towel falls. "Promise me you'll save my people?"

"Yes." I am unable to resist the gravity of your pull.

You're fearless, cupping your hand around the back of my neck, holding my face to yours as I part your lips with my tongue and lick, tangling yours to me. I grow hungry for more of you as my hand roams your back and lower, grabbing the plumpness of your ass. You make a little noise of affirmation as I lift you to the counter.

You're panting as I spread your legs for me, and manage, "I, umm you'd be my first."

Which was all fine by me as my fingers felt the tip of your sex, making you pant and moan. The ahhs of your pleasure makes my cock strain. Wetness spreads all over my hands from fondling your clit, causes blood to rush through my system.

"Oh Gods," you groan, and I don't know what they have to do with anything.

"Say my name," I grunt into your ear and you do, pleading for me before I lower myself to taste you. Lapping up your wetness, your legs squeeze against my head as you convulse into pleasure before you let go, and relax. Pulsing and moaning, you're splayed out on my counter, legs open, inviting me in.

"Please," you say as I free my cock from the constraints of my pants and I tease you with the tip of it. But you don't let me stay gentle, you grab me, wrapping your legs around me demanding that I'd be rough and fast, breaking you with bliss. You scream my name, demanding more.