Night's Storm Ch. 04

Rega's eyes burst open. His heart was palpitating and his chest was glazed with sweat. He reached out to feel the ground he lay on. It was soft, too soft. Breathing a sigh of relief, he tells himself this wasn't the grass of the forest where he was bound by the nymphs, but the bed of Telura's home. The huntress had found him just as he had escaped from the forest.

A cold wind blew into the room, ripping away the heat from his naked, sweat covered body and drawing a shiver from him. He got out of the bed and wrapped himself in a fur coat, courtesy of Telura. Where was she? She had allowed him to sleep on her bed while she had slept on the floor, but the mat next to the hearth was now unoccupied.

Another gust. He turned to its source and found the door to the hut cracked open, the light of the moons shone bright outside. He walked out and instantly felt the cold that bit deep, through the coat and into his body.

"Awake?" said Telura. Rega turned to her and saw her sitting at the side of the hut. His eyes widened in surprise. She was sitting still, staring out into the distance. The moonlights revealed the outlines of her tattoos -- thin, intricate lines that flowed all the way from her shoulders to her ankles. His eyes traced them, especially the one that curved from her back to the side of her breast, terminating at her pierced nipple.

"Gods, aren't you cold?" he said as he walked up to her and turned to look where her gaze was fixed upon. There was nothing ahead of them but the silhouette of the distant forest and the light from the three pale orbs that hung in the sky.

Telura shook her head and puffed out a thick column of smoke that was definitely not her breath. The strong smell hit Rega and he understood why she was out there.

"Ichor?" he asked, naming a popular

Telura laughed.

"Please. Is that what you city serfs think we do out here in the wildlands?"

"What makes you think I'm from the city? And a serf I am definitely not."

"You sound like one though. Kalesti? Cerathia?"

"Yes, Cerathia. But I'm freeborn. And you," Rega said as he sat down next to her, "must be Rethracian."

"Clever. Was it the constant lack of clothing that gave it away? Have you heard the tales of free we love, and how much we hate wearing anything?"

Rega chuckled.

"The tattoos actually. That glyph right there -- that's Cor-Rethra, right?"

Telura nodded and took another puff from a thin pipe.

"You must be rather religious to have that on you," Rega conjectured.

It was Telura's turn to snicker. She turned to him, looked at him for awhile and offered the pipe to him.

"Uh...no thank you."

"Sometimes I am unable to sleep. It helps. Keeps me warm, too."

"I see..."

"I suppose you are not keen on returning back to bed."

"I've had enough sleep."

"No, you didn't. But dawn is approaching anyway."

"What about you?"

Telura stood up and emptied her pipe. The charred remnants of whatever she smoked drifted away in the wind.

"Your turn to do what I've been doing, I suppose," she said as she went back into the hut.

"And what's that?"

"Ponder about everything. Or perhaps, nothing."

Rega smiled as he took her place on the chair and stared into the dimly lit landscape.

***

Miud was the gateway to the Jagged Mountains, and as they drew closer they knew something was wrong. Thick smoke rose from where the outpost was supposed to be and carried with it a foul stench.

The Arok they were riding protested and began to slow before halting entirely. Telura did not prod it further and simply said, "We walk."

Rega complied and the two of them continued on foot. The palings that surrounded the outpost were breached in places, and patches of dried blood pockmarked what was supposed to be the smooth marble of the Capital highway - the artery that led to the great city.

"Something is very wrong," said Rega.

Telura did not remark on that obvious comment and instead reached into her quiver, nocking an arrow.

"Hey, you two!" a voice called out from somewhere.

The two of them turned to see its source.

"Over here!" it said again, this time louder and clearer.

"Where are you?" called out Rega.

"On the roof. Don't shoot. I'm an outpost guard," the voice said.

"What happened?" Telura said.

"Mercenaries. Or bandits. Doesn't matter -- they came, they attacked and now they're gone," the guard said as his head peeked out from a window.

"Only you here?" Rega asked.

"No, I have many who are injured here. Some left to get reinforcements."

"I am a mage, heading to the Capital," said Rega, "I can help."

"If you're a mage, then I'm Lady Sarell's bull. You sound like a Thurinthi street rat," the guard said.

"Told you," Telura said to Rega with a smile. He frowned in return.

"I'm from Cerathia. Yes, I'm not exactly nobility but --" Rega said before turning back to Telura, "why am I even bothering? Let's just go."

She nodded and they continued walking through the village.

"Hey, wait! Where are you going? You need a pass to go through!" said the guard. He left the window and his footsteps could be heard descending the rickety wooden building he was in. He ran out with sword and shield drawn.

"Like I said, I am a mage heading to the capital. I have business with the Academy," Rega told him as the guard hesitantly approached them.

"You still need a pass. Wait, alright, if you really are a mage then prove it. You can heal right?"

"Yes," said Rega. If people needed help, he knew he couldn't turn away from that.

The guard led them up into a small room where several people lay, all of them heavily wounded or unconscious.

"They must have been good to take out an entire outpost," said Telura.

"Hmmph," the guard scoffed, "we were just unprepared. It was the middle of the night."

Rega began healing them, one by one. His magic flowed true and their wounds were knit, tendrils of red snaking and coiling before reforming their skin once more. Even the guard, unimpressed at first, eventually dropped his jaws. Telura stood watching, eyebrows furrowed.

"Gods and goddesses..." said one of the guards as his wounds healed and eyes opened. He slowly raised himself before others helped him up

"Captain!" they addressed him.

"Who are you, mage?" said the newly healed Captain of the outpost.

"Rega, of Cerathia."

"Well, Sir Rega, we cannot thank you enough for your help. I must admit, I have never seen a mage as powerful as you are."

"Uh...thanks. It's just Rega. I am not nobility. Glad to have helped."

"Regardless, you have our gratitude. You said you were headed to the Capital?"

"Indeed me and my...uh, companion, have business there."

"Yes of course. Though I must warn you, the way across the mountains is treacherous. A scout reported to me a large rockfall just two days ago that cut off most of the pass."

"I see. I think I can manage."

"I am sure you can, Rega. Nevertheless, I will assign you one of my scouts and he will accompany you to the pass. I need him to report on the situation as well."

"The men who attacked you-" Telura said.

"Women," corrected the Captain, "at least, most of them were."

"Women? Do you remember their armor, or weaponry?"

The Captain sighed.

"It was pitch black and...they wore black cloth too, blending into the night. They wielded daggers. That is all I can say."

"Cowards and scum," said a guard.

"Which way did they come from?"

"We don't know. But we do know they fled into the mountains."

"Great," said Rega, "we'll have to expect them too."

"Were they my height?" said Telura.

The Captain paused then turned to his men.

"What say you all?"

"Nah, most of them were shorter than this pretty lass here," one guard mentioned and the others nodded in agreement. The guards, newly healed, had already started taking notice of Telura's clothing or lack thereof -- a thin band of fabric covered her breasts, and her loincloth was only protecting the modesty of her front. A few of them sidestepped around the room to have a look at her behind.

"Yes, yes. Very quiet too. Couldn't hear their footsteps until they had sunk their blades into us."

"What do you think, Telura?"

"Mountain elves," she said.

Murmurs rose among the guards.

"They have no quarrel with us, and we with them," said the Captain.

"If they really are mountain elves..." said Telura before she drifted off into silence.

"Well whatever they are, we have to be ready. Let's go," Rega said.

The scout joined them as they began their ascent.

"Master Mage, Lady. I am Jereusen," the scout said. He looked no older than Rega. His eyes were wide and his chest heaved heavily. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead. Rega sensed it wasn't from exhaustion.

"Stay close to us," Telura said.

The pathway up to the mountain was hewn into broad stone steps that were wide and far enough for even an Arok to climb. Rega eyes followed the ascending stairs up into the mountain before they disappeared out of sight.

They climbed. As the air became colder their breaths grew more laborious. Thick fog descended on them, shrouding the grueling journey that lay ahead of them.

"I don't know how you made it this far without it," Rega remarked as Telura motioned him to stop for her to retrieve her coat from the pack he was carrying.

"You get used to it."

"I hear in Rethracia no snow ever falls...and the waters are so clear you can see all the way to the bottom."

"Yes."

"Don't you miss it?"

"Not really."

Jereusen had dropped to many paces behind them. He was clearly not as fit as Rega or Telura.

"I worry about him," Rega said.

Telura looked back at him and gestured in agreement.

"Wait," Rega said and signalled for all of them to stop. Jereusen bent over with hands on knees, drawing deep wheezing breaths. Rega put a finger to his lips and pointed ahead of him.

"What is it?" Telura whispered.

"I see them. No -- not with my eyes. My Sight. Just beyond that bend, behind that outcrop. Three of them."

"Armed?"

"Yes. They wait for us."

Telura took a few steps forward and then spoke in a language Rega had never heard before. Her words echoed into mountains for a few brief moments and disappeared just as quickly.

He saw in his Sight the three ambushers began to stir. One of them stood up and began to walk towards them.

Rega flared his magic.

"One of them is coming," Rega told Telura.

A lithe figure emerged from the mists. She was nude save for a thin waistband that held a gleaming dagger, and her body was an alabaster white. Rega's eyes were transfixed on her pert breasts and pale nipples. Her toned body curved in symmetry with her hairless slit. Her long silver hair floated wraithlike in the frigid mountain breeze.

"Leave," she said in the common language.

"We cannot," Telura replied, "I have already told you why."

The woman turned her attention to Rega.

"Stay your magic, mage. It agitates us."

"Who are you?" Rega said.

"We are the mountainborn," she said, her silver eyes staring at Rega. Then she turned back to Telura.

"You are crossing at a dangerous time. There is a schism among us."

"How can this be?"

"Those that attacked your people were our enemies. But the Keeper will set everything right. Until then, this is no place for earthborn."

"At least," said Telura, "take us to your Keeper. Let us plead our case to pass."

"Keeper...is he like, their king?" Rega asked Telura.

"She," corrected the mountain elf, "stands higher than any king."

"Then take-" Rega said and his Sight sensed something wrong. Something fast was coming their way.

"Jereusen!" Rega turned to warn the scout who was observing their exchange from the distance.

An arrow flew past Rega and straight into the scout's throat. His body tumbled down the steps as his cries of agony turned into gurgles.

The mountain elf let out a sharp trill and turned to head up the steps.

"Where?" Telura asked.

"Dozens of them, descending down on us. Left and right. They're...walking on the sides of the mountains!"

The mountain elves that attacked them emerged from the fog, their bodies horizontal against the steep mountain side but feet planted firmly, as if the face of the Jagged Mountain was its base. Arrows began flying towards the two of them. Rega formed a sphere around him and Telura. Most of the missiles were deflected cleanly off it, though direct hits froze in mid-air hovering angrily like hornets caught in an invisible net.

"We must help them," Telura said, pointing to the skirmish that had begun up ahead of them. The three mountain elves were contorting into impossible positions as they dodged and returned the attacks of the larger group confronting them.

Rega sent a targeted surge directly ahead, which knocked some of them out. He watched them lose their footing and tumble down the mountain, their bodies hitting the rock with dull, echoing thuds. The three mountain elves, beginning to be overwhelmed, retreated down the stairs towards Rega and Telura.

"Follow us," the leader said and with a melody from her lips the stairs beneath their feet began to split apart. A tunnel formed, barely wide enough to squeeze through which the elves effortlessly slid into. Rega and Telura took a glance at each other, and followed suit.

"I am Vasia, of Periphite," the mountain elf said to them as they navigated their way through the narrow tunnels, making their way into the bowels of the mountain. "I am thankful for your assistance, but you have made things worse."

"We apologize. We were unaware of how things were," said Rega.

"As earthborns naturally are," Telura added, self-depractingly.

They reached a chamber that was brightly lit, not by the sun but by crystals that shone bright and warm. The rocks in the cavern they were in were a polished white, which made the whole room brighter. In the middle was a small pool of water that glowed blue.

"This is the Anchialine Pool, connected to the Endless Sea from which the mountains first emerged from," Vasia said.

"The Endless Sea? But isn't that..." Rega said.

"A hundred days' journey away, yes," said Telura, her eyes scanning and taking in every inch of the place.

"Cleanse yourself before you enter the Heart," Vasia said as she and her compatriots lowered themselves into the pool and begun rinsing their body in a ritual-like manner. Telura followed suit, removing her coat and her barely-there strips of cloth covering her body. Rega stared, his cock hardening at the sight of the four nude women bathing. It was very much like how it was when he was peeping into the bathhouses, except now they were right in front of him.

He undressed, his cock springing out. Telura ignored it but two of the other elves began to whisper to each other at the sight.

"Not many have seen an unclothed male," Vasia remarked.

"Don't you have any among you?" Rega asked.

Vasia shook her head.

"We are born of the mountain. Its seed crystalizes in our wombs and we give birth to our kind."

Rega turned to Telura.

"Is she serious?" he whispered.

"Yes," Telura said, "as some would put it - they fuck a rock."

"How does that wor- nevermind, I'd rather not think about that at the moment."

Vasia did not allow them to wear their clothes, for it had been "sullied". Rega and Telura therefore strode naked into the next chamber which was much larger than the first, and filled with more mountain elves. Rega eyes swept across to take in the sight of a whole room of nude, gleaming white bodies, most of whom were asleep. Those who were awake saw them, and began to whisper.

"It is the cycle of silence, therefore most are still. Follow me, I will bring you to the Keeper," Vasia said, her voice lowering to a whisper.

They entered a smaller room with ceilings barely higher than their heads, and Rega gasped. The Keeper, her eyes and hair a pale white seemed to be fused to the walls, with only part of her torso exposed. Vasia bowed, and Rega and Telura followed.

"Welcome, child of Bal-Holon and priestess of Cor-Rethra. You have arrived, as it should be."

Her lips did not move; the sound instead came from the entire room and it rumbled in such a low tone that Rega's heart shuddered.

"As it should be?" Telura asked.

"Godlessness abounds, priestess, as you yourself know. We are divided. As it should be."

"Do you mean that everything that is happening here...you foresaw?"

"Correct. Now you are here, and we need your seed to awaken Her."

Rega flinched at the mention of his seed. He had been used for his magical powers once before, and hoped he would never have to be enslaved like that again.

"Why...exactly?" he said.

"Within your seed lies the essence of the divines of whose power you wield. We only ask you release a small sum to quicken Her, so that she may awake. As it should be."

"I see. So you need a mage with magic...fine. Take me to her," Rega said with a sigh.

"Who is she that you are speaking of?" Telura asked.

"The one who the mountains formed," the Keeper said, "the one who shall end this schism. As it should be."

Rega and Telura had many more questions, but Vasia motioned for them to leave.

She brought them to another chamber, and their eyes were immediately drawn to a massive crystal that seemed to have erupted from the ground. Inside was the most beautiful woman Rega had ever seen- if she was even a woman. Her lithe body seemed to be floating in the chrysalis she was encased in. Her ears had the pointiness of an elf, yet her fully formed and buxom breasts spoke of a human woman.

"Is this the one your Keeper was talking about?" Telura said.

"Yes. She is the first of her kind. We found her after the mountains groaned twenty cycles ago. It had protested our conflict. And it revealed her," Vasia said, "she who is both the oldest and will be our youngest when she is birthed."

"I just...release my seed on her?"

"As the Keeper wills it. However our Council has deemed it proper that the mountainborn supervise its release."

"They have requested me to aid you in releasing your seed," said Vasia. She seemed hesitant, almost shy.

"That won't be necessary Vasia," Rega said, "I can..."

"It is only proper," countered Vasia, now more firm. "The Council of the mountainborn demand it."

Rega stepped up to the chrysalis and fixed his eyes on the woman he was about to free. If his seed was needed to awaken her, then so be it. Deanyr told him to always be ready to help others. He would try to live up to that.

Although he wasn't tall, Vasia was still barely reaching the height of his chest.

"Have you...been with a human before?" Rega asked.

Vasia turned away, and Rega could have sworn he saw her blush.

"No. But I know how your process of reproduction works," she said as she stepped onto a rock and bent over, her ass raised up towards him. Rega's cock immediately twitched awake at the sight of the mountain elf presenting herself. Her pale white buttocks gleamed in the dim light and his eyes were drawn to the slit in the middle that was waiting for him.

"Release your seed inside me, and I will transfer it to the Shell," Vasia said, her voice trembling.

Rega had considered masturbating himself and releasing it into her at the last moment, but the sight of the tight pussy before him proved too tempting. His hands reached out to firmly grip Vasia's rump, drawing a soft gasp from her. His cock, now erect, teased her entrance as he probed the mountain elf's pussy lips with his tip.

He pressed deeper -- her entrance was tight. Vasia groaned.

"Are you alright?" Rega asked, concerned.

"Ye-yes. Proceed, earthborn," Vasia stuttered.

Rega hesitated no longer and plunged himself into her. The initial tightness of her pussy gave way to his cock, and Vasia let out a loud moan that reverberated throughout the chamber.