Ian's Quest Pt. 01

Story Info
Mastering the Wild Magic.
5.2k words
15.3k
47
0

Part 1 of the 10 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 05/26/2016
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
IowaIke
IowaIke
110 Followers

Ian was tired, bone-tired, after a long day's work in the fields. A husky youth of 18 summers, his broad shoulders and muscular arms testified too many long hours under the sun keeping his grandfather's farm productive. His hair was bright red, his eyes blue, his limbs long, and his tanned skin almost hid his freckles completely. The laborers left in the twilight after receiving their shares, and the barns were full in expectation of a long winter. It was the day of equinox, when day and night were perfectly balanced, when the sullen forest that surrounded his family's cottage on three sides grew darker and tingled with wild, cold magic.

As he opened his door, he found his grandfather sitting on a bench in front of the fire rather than at table, smoking his pipe and sending huge rings to play in the thatched rafters. In his hand was his ancient staff, smooth and tan colored, which never showed a mark or sign of wear. "Good evening, Ian. Dinner's ready for you." A bowl of stew sat on the table, with a hunk of bread and a goblet. "I've already eaten. Tonight's a special night."

The young man sat down, bowed his head for a moment, then set about devouring his meal. After taking a drink from the goblet, he looked at the liquid: it seemed to twinkle more than the firelight could account for. "This has a strange taste, Grandfather."

"Drink it all, lad. You'll need it. Finish your meal, there is much to tell you. This is a special night."

He ate all that was in his bowl and refilled it from the cauldron on the hearth. The old man chuckled and kept smoking in silence, his eyes lost in thought. As Ian ate, he noticed that the room seemed to change a bit, grow brighter with sharper outlines, and his grandfather seemed to have more wrinkles than usual. The smoke was a little different as well: the light blue hue turned yellowish, then green. Hunger still drove him, but after finishing his second bowl he decided against more, settling for wiping the dish clean with the rest of his bread.

Returning the tableware to its proper storage, he sat in front of his grandfather on the floor, but the old man beckoned him to sit next to him on the bench. There was a sweet smell in the air Ian couldn't identify, and his muscles had not only stopped aching, but felt as fresh as after his morning wash at the mountain stream.

"Tonight you come of age, Ian. Tonight you learn much, and embrace your destiny. I know I haven't told you much, but your education until now has been purposeful. You know all you need to survive in the Wild, every wood and mountain craft, every bit of desert lore, every sailor's skill. Through your co-workers you have learned the ways of human society at its most basic level, learning the lives of ordinary men and women. You have even learned the ways of combat, with and without weapons, and the board games have taught you battle tactics. Tonight, you start to learn of the ways of Empire."

"Grandfather, I know my history, and how our land came to be. We have not been a kingdom for centuries, not since the battle of Morcombe Glen when the Deathless Emperor took his throne."

"Yes, you know that story as the world does. Now learn the rest of it, how your Father lived and died, and what lies ahead for you. Look into the cauldron."

The bubbling brown liquid was full of meat and potatoes, as well as dark green bits of vegetables. Some red flecks of pepper danced in the quivering liquid, and has they looked, the flecks came together and opened a window, a bright blue vision of the past. Ian saw a king, tall and noble, with long dark hair, holding a massive blade in one hand and a shield with the emblem of an eagle. It resembled a small cameo sitting on the far end of the mantle above the fire, and as the image showed the shield, the cameo seemed to glow with its own light.

"This was your Father on the day of Morcombe Glen. His name was Xander, King of Platea and Defender of the Scroll. For twenty long years he led his great army in honorable battle against the forces of Darkness, and this was the day of his betrayal."

"How was he betrayed?"

"By the one whom he loved most, the one for whom he would have gladly sacrificed his life. She turned on him, sold the secret of his vulnerability, robbed him of his strength. The Sword of the Defender was broken that day, and lost to the world for a while."

"Wait a minute, that was over two hundred years ago. How could he be my father?"

"Through my art, my lad. I knew when the Deathless Emperor would be vulnerable, and managed to project us forward to this time, when he could fall. There was no place in the world we could hidden from him at that time, the peak of his power. This land has been under his spell for many dark decades, but if we had tried to strike sooner, we would have failed utterly. Now is the time, his power already wanes and you are ready."

"Me? Ready? All right, how?"

"Tonight I will give you the greatest gift I can. Hold out your hand."

Ian held out his hand as to shake hands with this grandfather, but the old man surprised him. Quickly, a knife appeared in the old man's hand and slashed Ian's palm deeply. The bleeding palm was slapped against the staff in the old man's hand, and Ian's grandfather held it there as the blood ran down the wood. Ian cried out in pain when he touched the wood, but the look in the old man's eyes compelled him to submit. For many long moments, the red torrent ran, then gradually slowed and stopped. His hand throbbed, and it seemed the wood itself pulsed in the firelight, taking in the blood that stained it.

Suddenly Ian was able to let go, and his palm was unmarked. He looked at the staff: it was tan and still unmarked, showing no sign of his blood that ran down its length. His eyes went back and forth between it, his palm and his grandfather's face, which was solemn and still. "Now you are part of this staff and it is part of you. You know its name."

"Kadosh," Ian said. "Kadosh is its name."

"Yes, and it knows you now, Ian. This staff is what will save us from our doom. It has been an heirloom of our house as long as we can remember, and will be for generations to come."

"All right, I understand a little bit more now. I feel its presence and know I should not be without it. But there's something I don't understand. Why wasn't it with Father at Morcombe Glen?"

"A good question. Your father began to distrust its power through seeds of doubt sown by his betrayer, Melanthalia, and he grew to trust the Sword of the Defender more. Finally, he left Kadosh in his treasury and went to his last campaign without it."

"But I heard the Woodland King's treasury was emptied by the forces of the Deathless Emperor."

"Once we are united with Kadosh, it will come to us when we call. You cannot lose it: if you are parted from it and need it, all you need do is call to it with your mind and it will appear."

"So you called it to you after Morcombe Glen?"

"Sharp observation, yes I did. Melanthalia tried to burn it with the rest of Woodland Castle, but it will not burn. After my grief at your father's death abated, it came to me when I called. That's enough history for now, you need to set out and I have a few things to tell you yet."

"Set out? Tomorrow morning?"

"Tonight. You will enter the woods and cross to the other side, in the meantime you will have encounters that will further prepare you for your quest. No matter what happens, you must be on the other side of the forest by daybreak. Take the Eagle's cameo from the mantle: you will also need its protection eventually."

Ian stood up and picked the small piece from its perch. It was no bigger than a thumbwidth. "I'm not tired even though I worked all day in the field. That draught probably restored my weariness."

"Yes, and the stew also had some effects you will find useful. The cameo will not help you much tonight, but it will warn you when Melanthalia's servants are near, and help protect you from them. Tonight you conquer the wild magic of Woodland, as have all our house. It is a quest Kadosh has seen many times, follow its guidance and you will overcome. You will need all the skill of arms you've learned, but Kadosh must be your only weapon from this day forward. It is a challenge you must face without much preparation, other than to be sure of yourself, be sure of your training, and be sure of Kadosh. Without that trust, the time is not yet come to set the world Right."

"Without much preparation? What may I take?"

"Prepare your pack a journey, you will not come back here once you leave, take everything you would take on a normal journey except a weapon: Kadosh will be what you need it to be at any moment. When you reach your goal tonight, Kadosh will show you what to do. Your blood will run hot tonight: you must not give in to it's fire too soon. If you do not follow its lead before you meet the Queenling, you will be lost and it will be several more ages before you can resume your quest."

"And my quest?"

"To set the world Right. Nothing else matters."

A owl hooted outside and the hut creaked in the wind. "The night progresses and you must depart. You will see me again, hopefully, and more I will teach you more at that time. Gather your things, put on your cloak, and go. Now."

Ian looked deep into his grandfather's eyes and found only glassy stillness; a voice in his head told him to get moving. It was only moments before his pack was ready, his canteen full of water, and the cameo fastened at his throat. Looking around the only home he knew, he burned it into his memory, sad he had to go. One more glance from his grandfather made him turn away sheepishly and leave.

The night was full of stars, and Kadosh gave of a faint glow to guide him. He knew the forest track well, but it looked a bit different this night, full of threatening shapes and images. As long as he stayed on the path, he was fine, he knew that, so he started walking with confident strides. After a few steps, he turned as if to go back, and the light dimmed. One step and the light was gone; he returned to his path and the light was back. "Oh, that's how it works," he said to himself.

He made good progress through the woods, as if he walked in broad daylight. Overhead, he heard the hooting of owls as he passed, keeping vigil in search of nocturnal prey. He heard the irritated mewling of wildcats in the brush, but none came to challenge him. A mouse ran across his path and a moment later a rustle told him its fate was sealed. The leaves had not turned color yet, but occasional gaps revealed a star or two.

The air changed as he crossed a small brook a third of the way through the forest. Ian knew it was a place of old magic, felt it in daylight as he passed this way before, and whispering voices came from the trees. He'd heard of the nymphs who populated this area, thought he'd seen once as a boy, luxuriating in the sunlight by the stream before she sensed his presence and vanished in a blink. The trees were possessed by dryads as well, but he knew if he left the trees alone, they would be no danger.

He came to a clearing, and saw them. Six young women, nude with pointed ears, sharp teeth, glowing eyes, bluegreen hair, and long, thin tails that came to a sharp point blocked his path. They blinked in the light, but did not budge. "Comes another," one said in a raspy voice, her lips barely moving. "Comes another man of the tribe. Knows he the magic? Knows he the wisdom? Knows he the danger? Test him we shall."

"Test me how?" The women giggled harshly, covering their mouths and leering at him. They were very curvy, their breasts were heavy with large nipples, and their backsides well rounded. Ian's young libido was stirred as it had been before when the village girls came with food for him and his fellows in the fields, but a feeling told him to ignore it. Kadosh glowed brighter in challenge, and Ian longed for a sword. Suddenly, a flaming sword was in his hand, making the women laugh and startling him. "Thinks he to conquer us in battle with a blade? Knows he not we are magical beings metal cannot bite? Lure him we shall, provoke his loins, gather his seed if we can."

They started a silent circle dance, slowly at first, then gradually growing faster. Ian looked at his flaming sword and realized it was the wrong weapon; Kadosh was a staff again, glowing once again to illuminate the dance. He stood there and watched, unmoving, not letting himself be tempted to action until he had a better idea what to do.

The dance circle widened, and individuals came within his reach, pausing to purse their lips, shake their bottoms, flaunt breasts at him, pinching their nipples and grimacing. In some ways, Ian found it rather silly, it was so unappealing.

On a whim, he struck a woman on the ass as she passed, and her response was immediate. She screamed and jumped in the air in surprise, then crouched in the center of the circle and bowed her head. The others laughed and started prancing, daring him to hit them the same way. He watched them as they circled again before hitting another one in the ass with a loud crack. That one responded in shock and glee before slinking into position with the other one.

So this was the game! Ian laughed out loud as the remaining four danced more fervently, leaping and taunting him more. Moving from his place, he darted around their dance, whacking their butts with glee and making them submit the same way. Finally all six were kneeling before him, silent and quivering. "What is my reward for your submission?"

They giggled and all sat on their haunches, their broad smiles glowing brighter than they should. "You we serve, o man, since you are of the blood and know our magic."

"Know your magic? How do I know your magic?"

"Our magic is wild magic, dependent on no godling nor earth, sky or sea. Mastered it is by mastering self. Master fear and wild magic serves you. You know this, did not your sire instruct you?"

"My grandsire taught me. He said nothing of this magic."

"Taught you to master fear he did. So taught you our magic he did."

"What do I do next?"

"We will take you to the Queenling, if you wish. As your grandsire and sire did before you, as did all of your house since they came to this land, the Queenling your will can strengthen, deepen the wild magic, succor you in trial. See her you will want to, lead you to her we will."

They popped to their feet and danced on the path, moving away down the path from him and beckoning him to follow them. As he took a step or two, Kadosh glowed more brightly, so he followed. As they went through the woods, footsteps scurried through the undergrowth; Ian knew this to be various satyrs and spirits paralleling their path. His staff gave him confidence, so his concern was short lived.

At last, they came to an a rock outcropping higher than his head. A gigantic fire burned before it, but the light was completely confined to the immediate area. Gathered around were various shaggy, goat like men, with gigantic testicles under their tails, and salivating wolves breathing heavily in the night air. A great silky slithering sound dominated the clearing, but standing on a small rock opposite the outcrop on the far side of the fire seemed to be where he was supposed to be. Kadosh stopped glowing.

A middle aged woman, naked and voluptuous appear on the outcropping, with pure white hair, black eyes, and long arms with long fingernails. Ian bowed from the waist and said what his instinct told him, "Your majesty."

"Rise, son of Xander, son of Eliezer, son of Motham, son of Jacrid, son of Athon. I know thee, Lost Heir, called by the name Ian. I know thy purpose, but thou must name it. Wouldst thou be my friend thou must name thy desire of me."

He stood there for a moment. "I would set the world Right," he said in a calm voice, that was heard in every corner of the assembly.

She raised up, revealing the thick body of a huge snake, put her hands on her hips, threw back her head, laughing out loud, revealing a set of long, pointed teeth that bent inward at a vicious angle. "Son of Xander, I am rewarded more than I expected with your honesty. Yes, that is your quest, and the Woodland rejoices at its coming. Well has your grandsire taught you. You and your quest are welcome here." The assembly shouted in one voice, and laughed, this time rejoicing.

Ian stood there and waited for everything to die down before he spoke again. "I am glad of your welcome, gracious Queenling, and would beg your aid. Your servants told me of gifts you could give me, and I would have your counsel."

All became still, and the Queenling slithered down the slope and around the fire to face him. She sat with her eyes even with his, glinting in the firelight, and she spent a long time looking deep into his eyes, searching. Shaking her head, she rubbed her eyes and said with fear in her voice. "There is more to you than meets the eye, Lost Heir, and what I see frightens me. You seek to make things Right, but Evil has an equal claim on you. You will need the wild magic more than any of your house, more than Athom the First himself. Your sire troubled me as well: I saw the temptation in his heart and the doom he fell to when he came here, he turned away from the wild magic as well as the power you hold in your hand. I cannot see your future for certain, but I see you are the one, so I will help you. Claim the wild magic in its fullness, and go with our hopes, our dreams and our help in need."

There were deep breaths all around, and Ian thought furiously how he was to claim the wild magic. His grandfather had said nothing about this. In the battle games they played before the winter fires, the old man always encouraged him to strike boldly when given the chance. The chance was obvious here.

They stood looking at each other for several long moments until the nymphs, satyrs, wolves and spirits began fidgeting. A loud fart broke the silence in the distance, which made the Queenling snicker momentarily. He heard his grandfather's voice in his head, a favorite saying of the old man's ever since his earliest memories: "There's not such thing as a dumb question. The only dumb questions are the ones you don't ask." So Ian finally said, "How do I claim the wild magic in its fullness?"

"Excellent, Ian, son of Xander. You claim the wild magic as you claim the Queenling, soul and body. I am ready, you may begin."

There was another long pause as stories flashed through his head, of how different heroes claimed things. Well, it wasn't a thing, so that left some stories out, it was a person, it seemed. A person, a woman, how did a man claim one? He hadn't heard many of those stories, and they weren't from his grandfather, but from herders around the campfires. The Queenling gave him a broad smile, particularly as he started looking her up and down, taking inventory of her body. "You must give me something, Lost Heir, something of your very essence. You are thinking the right direction, keep working on it."

She wasn't quite like other women. The herders told him about a woman's anatomy, and how a man and a woman had sex. From a distance they had spied on the milkmaids bathing at a local lake. He'd asked his grandfather about it and not gotten a direct answer. The old man must have known, or else he wouldn't be his grandfather. But the Queenling seemed to lack the anatomy to serve him; her torso blended into the serpentine coils seamlessly. "I am at a loss of how to claim you, my lady. I have no experience to guide me."

The Queenling chuckled softly to herself, and smiled a toothy grin. "There is only one way into my body, I am a magical creature and so do not need all the orifices you do." She cupped her breasts, twirling the end of her tail and licking her lips with a long, forked tongue. Patting her chest, she continued, "This is what you claim, and use you the thing a man generally uses to claim a woman."

IowaIke
IowaIke
110 Followers
12