Majutsu-shi no Chikara Ch. 10

Her answer had been brief, for her hesitation had caused the magic to withdraw such that its offer was near to vanishing. The thrust of her fear had prompted her to trade everything for that power. Deception; cruel waking had shown her the folly of it, as she had damned Abhilash and been cast-out by her daughters within days of the pact she'd struck. The lie was known to her, now, but she had already sold herself to this master. Try as she might, Kamakshi could only turn to look Damon in the face where he now stood -- his face the perfect mirror of the inhuman thing that had been laid bare to her sight just as the poison's magic was released upon the Sidero.

He was beautiful and terrible to look on, and Kamakshi fell to her knees at the sight of him. If his offer had been a lie, it remained a convincing one. Though she was not the chieftain of the Sidero, her daughters would all bear this sorcerer's offspring. Whatever it thought to give her, it was clearly not done taking. It, wearing Damon like a cloak, looked from Kamakshi to her daughter, and the shaman felt she understood its meaning. She had begged Damon to free Abhilash, when her own magic could not break the curse she had created. Was this, too, part of its wicked bargain? What sacrifices had it contrived from within that human vessel, that Kamakshi had yet to endure for the sake of this accursed exchange?

Damon no longer looked human to her eyes, but a fiend of the darkest Pit. Where there was beauty: now a fierce mien that rivaled the cold, brutal calculations of Sidero himself. Surpassed it, even. Only now that she was its thrall did she think she could see the full scope of it -- and yet it eluded her understanding. At the heart of it, the center so far away as to seem lost amid the colossal horror before her, was the stripling human that was Damon -- mouthing something she could not hear above the roaring command of her master.

What will it give and what will it take?

...

Akuji felt the wave of nausea starting in his feet, like he was standing on shifting sand or cracking ice, and it brought him to his knees. His head felt terribly heavy, and he wondered if this were some hidden magic the she-ork shaman had used before. Now, were they all doomed? His vision tunneled as he collapsed, and his ears filled with thunder or howling wind. His body felt pressed to the earth, crushed beneath some unseen force. Far away, a shape in the form and figure of his son stood in relief against the hazy black that swallowed Akuji's sight. Damon was shouting, his voice too loud to comprehend, and his eyes sparking crooked shards of sunlight as the world melted into darkness.

What limits a father's love?

...

Prende regarded the torrent of raw magic spilling from Damon with a curious air, her eyes collecting its fullness with the ease only creatures born of magic could achieve. This was a thing she knew, or a piece of it. It bore the markings of Matta's power and held in its hand the dragon's tooth -- though when the artifact had passed from Nurcan to Damon was unclear -- and it spoke with the voice of a hurricane, yet it whispered with a deep rumbling as distant thunder behind the peaks of mountains. When it looked on her, she felt the near kinship...

"Matta?" she stepped forward, her body scything through flooding magic a skilled mariner on much-traveled waters. "Have you returned to me?"

"Lada?" The face was not the face of her beloved Elemental, nor the flesh the correct shape of him -- but the moment of recognition caught Prende's breath in her throat, before his confusion collapsed inward and dragged all the lashing currents into itself as though plummeting over the edge of a cliff. What echo remained of the nymph's beloved sorcerer disappeared behind the face of a young man of South-wold, fists clutched to either side of his head and in one hand the dragon tooth prominent as a lopsided horn to one side.

"Stop." he was screaming the word over and over, but the sound was little more than a whimper, the effort making his face flush dark as tears blurred his eyes. When at last the strain overtook him, his body went limp and he toppled to the ground. The surging wave of raw energy sucked backward into him like a drain and vanished.

...

It took long moments for sense and reason to creep back into the mortal shells all around her, but Prende waited patiently. This message from Matta seemed clear enough: that his will persisted long after his spirit had fled his body. What seed he had nested in Damon's breast was beyond even her ability to perceive, for if there were two they were already as one within the human (at least as far as Prende's eyes were concerned). It seemed a risky thing, twining two souls within one vessel -- even pieces of souls were wont to assert their primacy within a mortal shell and often resulted in possessions by ghosts, demoniacs, and avatars of gods causing the death of a living host.

She picked a delicate path across the sprouted vines of the field toward the prostrate form of Damon, all semblance of her departed lover now gone from his face. Prende leaned down at the waist, her red curls tumbling down to dance across Damon's face and shoulder as she touched a slender finger to his lips. The warmth of his breath proof enough, Prende straightened and looked about as South-wold's gathered began to stir. The fuss and bicker of children cut over the silence, the bleating of goats looking to investigate the newly-still shepherds, and cries of alarm as those further-off taking note of the spectacle called to arms and mustered to the aid of the fallen.

Yet none were fallen; merely senseless in sleep. To a fae: one sleep was like another, as fae did not sleep or dream in the fashion of mortals. Prende had been somewhat educated on the different nuances of mortal (human) consciousness, exerting her influence and voice to assuage the growing panic buzzing toward her. A fair dozen, only a handful armed and none comprehending the scene to which they arrived: they could but gawp and sputter before one of them managed to utter a baffled:

"What in the hells?"

"Peace, sweet friends." Prende beamed at them her smile, sunlight shining on her as a glittering reflecting pool, and the sight of her was at once serene and painful to look upon.

...

Of those insensate on the ground, Abhilash was the first to wake. The taste of blood in her mouth set her heart to racing, her wolf-yellow eyes flaring open as she rolled to hands and knees before springing to her feet. It took several seconds to sort-out what she saw, for it looked at first as though half the village had butchered their comrades. There was no blood. The arrangement was all wrong for violence, as well, as those on the ground were in a crescent about herself and Kamakshi (whom she'd not seen arrive). Her last recollection had been a suffocating stillness that only Kamakshi could lay upon her, and the usual cold drip of oblivion that followed was briefly interrupted by a brilliant star shining in the darkness. Then, she was plunged below and knew nothing.

Damon lay there, just beside her, and the crone Nurcan a pace behind him, limbs and skirts akimbo. Kamakshi was knelt, head bowed as if in human prayer, with the sword loose in her hand. That she faced toward Damon and not the half-circle of humans told Abhilash much.

"Take your magic off me, nymph." Abhilash ordered of the fae as she easily relieved her mother of the magic sword. Though she wore a tunic that offered little in the way of modesty, she had felt more naked without the weapon in her hand.

"And you will not harm them?" Prende gave that inquisitive tilt of her head, her eyes blinking in slow surety as they met gazes.

Abhilash wanted very much to hate the nymph. She wanted to strike her down with the sword and lay waste to this damnable village of stupid humans. The connection between the village and Damon drove an iron spike through the thought, and she winced.

"They will come to no harm by my will." Abhilash snarled, setting her jaw and angling her tusks at the nymph. "Take your magic off me."

With a smile, the fae gave a deep nod which looked to bounce from her toes to her shoulders, accompanied by a musical sound of laughter like a pleasured sigh. Kamakshi's daughter felt the slithering vines of nymph magic descend back into the earth whence they came, or so seemed, and she was again alone inside her mind... well, as alone as she could be, given her captor-prisoner.

"What's the meaning of this?!" the demands came one by one, then all of a sudden a rushing wave that seemed to stop at one side only to be taken up again at the other before rippling backward and forward among the lot.

Abhilash shrugged, pointed at the nymph, and promptly turned her shoulder to these belly-aching humans and their stupid demands.

The nymph's energy swept outward, threading carefully about the she-ork while enveloping each human with as much vigor as they presented. Her cool manner and gentle voice swept-aside much of their complaint, but it was plain enough that it had left in that place a more insistent appetite.

As the humans began to fret their lips in their teeth; tugging at the hems of sleeve or collar; shifting uncomfortably to not display the more obvious signs of arousal; and muttered more modest capitulations or honest grumblings; Abhilash scooped Damon onto her shoulder and made for the stream only a dozen or so strides distant.

"They're not hurt?"

"It's a devil of a thing."

"I don't think we ought leave them."

"Thing is..."

"Well, I..."

"It's not right..."

"I feel..."

"By your pardons..."

"I think I left..."

"I don't understand..."

"Excuse me..."

Like a cloud, they broke in different directions -- each looking for a convenient excuse to escape each other and the nymph, ere lust overtake them. Vexations and confusions mingled with furtive glances and angling eyebrows, and a fair few of them paired-off to seek more private shelter away from the eyes of others.

As if queued, the twins Tomas and Wanda corralled a river of scampering children from careening through and trampling over those just beginning to rouse from their involuntary respite.

Amid this chaos, South-wold's fellows were brought to startled wakefulness -- not entirely aware of how they'd been struck or where they'd woken. As the humans began the lengthy process of untangling the "what" and "how" being pressed from them by the fearful or demanding children, Prende turned her attention to Kamakshi.

The she-ork matron had slumped, kneeling with her hands limp at her sides, as though fallen asleep in mid-prayer. A curious sight, especially of a more bloody-minded ork, but one Prende found not at all surprising. Raw magical energy had bled forth from Damon, a sieve over a hole in reality that lead to those planes to which he was attuned. Though magic acted within the material plane, the energy to drive it originated in other planes of varying sorts. Any wizard, therefore, was a conduit through which this energy passed and the focal lens that determined the shape of that energy as it became manifest. These were concepts Matta had taught to her many times, though she, like all fae, was a creature of reflex and instinct where magic was concerned.

Even so, witnessing such a large-scale, diffuse cascade of magic was more than even experienced wizards could comprehend clearly, and it was likely that the she-ork would not remember or be able to explain what she witnessed.

But Kamakshi's eyes were open, when Prende leaned down to look at her, and the ork mother's face was streaming with tears from her silver eyes. Her breath slow and deep, as though she were still asleep, the shaman looked up at Prende as though the nymph were no more alarming than any other mortal.

"What is he?" Kamakshi's voice was a faint sound, hissed to Prende in equal fear and awe.

"A man and a storm." Prende reached out, placing her empty palm to Kamakshi's cheek and wiping her thumb through the trailing tears on the shaman's face. "Can you tell me what you saw?"

"The ghost of my father." Kamakshi snorted, yanking herself away from the nymph's touch and lurching to her feet to scrub her fists over her eyes. "Something not human inside him, and it..."

Here, Kamakshi stopped. Casting her eyes down at the nymph who waited with patient eyes, the ork frowned and tilted her tusks at Prende. Eyes narrow with suspicion, Kamakshi growled low in her chest.

"What difference does it make, what I saw?" Kamakshi gave a sniff and spat to one side, thrusting her chin upward and looking down over her tusks at the slight red-haired fae.

"Is it as you saw it before?" Prende stepped closer, causing Kamakshi to withdraw half a step.

"What do you know of it?" Kamakshi tipped forward, latching the fae's shoulders in her hands to give the small female a jarring shake. To her alarm, the nymph resisted her touch like stone; touching the creature awakened her heat so fiercely she could scarce contain it. Her breasts loomed at eye level to the nymph, each nearly as large as the nymph's head, nipples so dark brown as to appear nearly black in the sunlight.

"Kamakshi-chief, they called you." Prende smiled up at the ork, unmoved by threat or the actual physical force being used, and Kamakshi thought the nymph's voice was only for her ears. "You come here, with a son-turned-sorcerer taken in battle, and it was through unknown mishap that a magical poison became something else... which allows you to be here, at all."

"How?" Kamakshi snarled, dropping her hands from the fae's shoulders and crossing her arms angrily over her breasts -- hoping to smother her sudden arousal with anger.

"I did not see it." Prende shrugged, turning to watch Abhilash at the stream.

...

"Ma..." Damon stirred in Abhilash's arms, but she held him fast as she waded into the chill water of the stream, his flesh so warm she felt he was scalding her.

"Be still, sorcerer." She growled, draping him into the current and balancing his neck in her palm to keep his head above water.

Damon shivered violently at the cold, then began panting. His body grew hotter rather than colder in the water, and Abhilash began to dread what new stupidity or mischief he might unleash.

"Do not make me douse you, human." Abhilash lowered her hand, letting Damon sink in the water until the current of the stream sent a few strands of water over his brow before she lifted again to keep his mouth and nose out of the flow.

Damon's eyes flew open, staring up at the looming shadow against the sun. Abhilash could feel the sweltering heat radiating from him, and thin wisps of vapor steamed up from the surface of the creek. The ghosts of water splintered and vanished almost as fast as they appeared, and Abhilash's hand was pained against the human's nape.

"Mother?" Damon's eyes began to focus, and his arms and legs seemed to finally answer what silent commands he'd given.

Struggling to his feet, Damon righted himself out of Abhilash's grip and rubbed a hand over his eyes.

"I thought to rouse you, not make you more stupid, sorcerer." Abhilash spat into the stream. "Are you too magic-sick to fuck?"

"It's freezing." Damon frowned at her, his breeches clinging against him and dragging in the water. "How can you be thinking of sex, right now?"

"Blame your nymph." Abhilash jerked a thumb over her shoulder toward the field and those in it.

"Not my..." Damon shook his head and made to slog toward the bank. "You're at least as daft as me, Kamakshi's daughter."

"Do not call me that." Abhilash followed. "If you want I speak only your name, say."

"Fine, good." Damon nodded, his skin prickling like a plucked bird as he sloshed onto the bank and turned to look her in the eyes. "Call me by name, Abhilash."

"The nymph's power is strong. I want to fuck." Abhilash nodded, stomping her way toward him and out of the water.

The sopping tunic clinging to her body was a sloppy second skin, but Damon saw the further evidence of her arousal... her heat, as she'd called it... her muscles more clearly defined through her skin. Despite the chill of the water, she looked to be overly warm, and the purple of her slightly parted lips was almost black. She looked to be taking shallow breaths, and her yellow-gray eyes were locked on him with naked hunger. Her nipples jutted against the clinging wet material of her tunic.

"Do you agree?" Abhilash's inquiry struck Damon as odd, for she had not seen fit to ask him for his consent since they'd left the Sidero.

Had she ever?

"Ginga..." Damon shook his head and was turning to leave.

"Fuck her next, then... or before me." Abhilash grit her teeth, feeling a desperation unfamiliar in her urgency. "Do not make me wait, sor... Damon."

...

"What's the mark on his chest?" Kamakshi narrowed her eyes, picking out the strange detail before Damon turned his back to her to address Abhilash.

"I didn't see." Prende gave a shrug and pout, before glancing over her shoulder at Akuji.

The humans of South-wold seemed more subdued, cautious, and reflective. Gripping the tooth more firmly, Prende let waves of serenity ripple outward toward them. Akuji's eyes found her as her power touched him. The Head-Elder of South-wold frowned, bowing his head and giving a tired sigh before marshaling his fellows to begin preparing a celebration.

"There." Kamakshi caught her attention, just as Damon was turning about again to return to the village.

Prende looked outward, seeing a flash of dark pigment against brown-red skin shining like wet clay. At first, it looked like a splash of mud or ink -- running at odd angles and curves on the right side of his chest, not quite centered on the muscles there. The shape was too crisp for incidental stain or soil, but Prende could not reason-out the spiked shape that resembled a squashed sunrise pattern. Damon was moving, half-turned away and changing direction to walk around Kamakshi and the nymph with a wide berth.

"...to her." he finished before setting his shoulders forward and leaning into his stride, with Abhilash near on his heels and a toothy grin of earnest frustration as she dogged his steps.

"It's no glyph I know." Prende shrugged again. "I will ask to study it more closely after the celebration... if your daughter will bear to part with him."

"Hmph." Kamakshi offered nothing else. Far better to not share much with this fae, lest she use that information to pry open her defenses and inflict further mischief.

"Will you be staying?" Prende's fingers trailed along Kamakshi's arm, caressing the firm muscles that bunched instinctively at the touch.

"That is to be seen." Kamakshi drew a deep breath and shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Your humans like me less by the moment."

"They are not... well, I suppose I am watching over them in Matta's stead." Prende gave the first sign of melancholy the she-ork had witnessed on that elfin face. "At least until Nurcan and Deedra are safe from the Tower's scrutiny."

"I have heard of this Wizard Tower of Renks Cairn." the former chieftain scowled and rubbed her hands over her scalp to distract herself from the fae. "I sent one scout, who did not return. Best not meddle in cities full of wizards."

"Not without a horde?" Prende's airy chuckle was a seasoned mirth of hundreds, if not thousands of moons.

"And giants." Kamakshi nodded. "And a dragon."

"There are no dragons in South-wold." Prende shook her head and began walking back toward her resting place in the shallow of Matta's old hearth.

"None remaining." Kamakshi grunted, her eyes catching on the singular, immense tooth in the fae's grip.

"Prende!" a middle-aged human female, the same that had been scolding Damon only moments before, approached with a quick step only slightly tilted by a faint limp.