Northern Oracle

Even flaccid, his manhood was considerable. Varia reached out a tentative hand, hesitating with her fingers inches away, still feeling strangely modest. Do you just grab a demigod's cock? But she'd come this far, and wasn't about to ask for permission like a cowering child. She grasped the Elder's soft member, finding it surprisingly warm. A potent throb made it jump in her hand.

"Ah," sighed Aeolis. "We have awaited you for... so long."

"Me, specifically?" she asked. "Or just anything with tits and a cunt?"

"You, specifically," he replied. "Although we did not know that you would be you, if that makes sense."

"It doesn't."

"Well, augury is often unclear, even to an oracle. Ah. Keep doing that, if you please."

Varia had cupped his stones while he spoke and gave them a delicate caress. They were swollen and hot to the touch, like apples roasted on a fire.

His soft manhood fit into her mouth easily enough. She enjoyed this part, before her partner was fully erect, when she could swallow him fully, press her nose to his flesh, inhale his clean, masculine scent. He idly stroked her hair, sighing contentedly.

That moment didn't last long. He expanded, lengthened, widened, and her mouth suddenly too full by half. She spat him out, a string of saliva connecting her lips and his crown.

She didn't tend to think of cocks as more than a means to an end, but she had to admit that Aeolis had something truly special. Smooth, proportionate, a pleasing sanguine color at the head, and tremendously large. A regal member fit for an Elder of Fal'Angrael. And I expect he knows it too. A smiling Aeolis looked down at her expectantly, nodding for her to continue.

A bead of essence gathered at his tip, lustrous gold in color. That's not normal, she thought. Curious, she caught it on the tip of her tongue. It was sweet like honey, with a savory tinge as well, and made her mouth tingle. When she swallowed she could feel the drop rolling warmly down her throat.

Now her head began to swim, like she'd had a bit too much wine. The strength faded from her muscles. Sitting up seemed like far too much effort, so she flopped back onto the divan, hair and arms spreading out limply.

"What's happening to me?" she asked, her tongue feeling thick and numb against her teeth.

"You consumed some of our Soul. The most miniscule amount, but big things have small beginnings. You are already changing."

"Changing?" she mumbled. Aeolis looked hazy above her. The Elder stepped forward, gently nudging her legs apart so that his shadow fell across her.

"Yes. Your flesh is... adjusting itself. Preparing to receive us."

Aeolis began ministering to himself while Varia lay supine and paralyzed beneath him. All her warrior instincts told her that being incapacitated was death, but all she felt was want as the handsome, blonde-haired Elder coaxed forth more of his golden essence. It fell in droplets onto her belly, scalding her flesh and sizzling like bacon fat in a frying pan.

The single drop she'd swallowed buzzed in her stomach, her head woozy, her core enflamed. Above her, Aeolis' hand became frantic as he drove himself toward release. She hummed with anticipation, flesh burning, nipples achingly long and firm.

With a shout of pleasure, his golden seed burst forth, splashing onto her abdomen in a long, straight line from bellybutton to the valley of her breasts. She gasped and shuddered at the sudden heat, almost too much for her, like a bar of iron from a forge had been laid across her skin. Three more volleys followed, somehow laid straight and perfectly parallel to one another.

Now the oracle reached down with one finger painted her, his digit joining the four lines together, lifting, crossing, curving, describing an Elder Glyph on her flesh. When he finished, the golden seed took on a bright incandescence and heat to match. Varia could only watch, dumbstruck, as the rune melted into her abdomen.

Varia mumbled a question, but it died on her lips as the glyph took hold. A sharp bolt of pleasure struck her core and she arched her back involuntarily. The sudden heat in her belly was unbelievable, and her fingers dug into the cushions. A second spike tore through her sex, then a third. By the fourth she was coming violently, shuddering like she'd had a seizure, eyes rolling back in her head. Her blissful agony lasted only a few moments, and then she collapsed onto the divan, bucking her hips weakly in the aftershocks, her body completely drained.

"Now you are prepared," said Aeolis.

She looked up into the handsome, blond-bearded face, gazing down at her with sweat coating his face in a fine sheen, satisfaction etched in his features. Varia blinked as his countenance grew wavy and indistinct, as if distorted by the heat. Her vision blurred, and the room grew dim. Then the lights winked out.

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"Varia."

She blinked sleep from her eyes. Father was giving her a stern look over the spectacles perched on the end of his hawkish nose. His face was long and gaunt, crows feet spreading from the corners of his eyes. He ran a hand through his shaggy mop of brown hair, as he always did when he was exasperated.

"You dozed off again," he informed her.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

They were sitting at the kitchen table. A book of runes was open before them, and beside it sheafs of paper containing father's translations and annotations. Elder Glyphs. The Old Tongue. He was forever trying to drill it into her.

"These lessons are important," he said. "Knowledge is the most powerful weapon of all."

"I know," she replied. Father said this often, although she wasn't sure she agreed. What about a sword? Or an axe? Those are pretty powerful, at least in all the stories. "I'll try harder." It was what he wanted to hear, and she loved her father dearly, so she indulged him.

"You could be a great scholar someday, Varia," he said with a sigh.

"Like you?"

"No, not like me. You could be wiser, smarter. You could visit the Great Arcane Library in Cairen. You don't have to end up as an out-of-work tutor in Maruba, a nation fools." He said the last part with a sneer.

"Out of work?" she asked. That's news.

"Forget I said that." He waved his hand dismissively. "It's only temporary. Noble children are born all the time. Someone has to teach them the Old Tongue. In the meantime, I can teach you."

How lucky for me.

Before he could continue the lesson, a harsh pounding shook their front door in it's frame. Terror fixed in Father's eyes. Voices called from the street outside, demanding he open up.

"Damn," Father whispered. "Thought I'd have more time."

"Until what?" she asked, confused and scared.

"Nevermind," he said. "Under the floorboards, now, like we practiced."

A section of loose wood came out to reveal the cool earth of their house's foundation. Varia, still a child, could just squeeze into the tight space below. The last thing she saw before the floorboard clicked into place was Father's face, a smile on his lips but fright in his eyes. Fingers of dim light filtered through the cracks in the wood to her hiding place. The pounding at the door echoed the pounding of her heart.

There came a sharp crack of wood splintering, and heavy footfalls pounded into the house. Unfamiliar voices began shouting, a counterpoint to Father's soft, calm voice pleading with them. The strangers demanded payment for a debt. Father tried to explain that they had no money, that he was just a poor scholar, that tutors had not been much in demand lately. He begged for more time. Grim laughter was the only reply.

Steel rang and slid from a scabbard. Father shouted a frantic protest, and then he squealed in pain. There was a thud just above her as something heavy fell to the floor, followed by blood running like a waterfall between the boards. Varia clasped both hands over her mouth, choking down a scream.

"Varia," came Father's hoarse whisper. His head was right above hers. "I love you. I'm sorry."

The din above grew louder. She heard furniture being overturned, dishes crashing to the floor, but none of it mattered. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Don't leave me, she implored. Don't leave me.

She shut her eyes. The world spun away into darkness.

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Blinking the haze from her eyes, awareness came back slowly. Two faces hovered before her, two pairs of soft blue eyes, two firm and elegant jawlines, identical except that one beard was amber, the other jet. She reclined on a cushioned chair, feet propped onto a stool, in the Elders' bath chamber beneath the canyon. The brothers oracle knelt before her, watching her intently.

"She returns to us," said Uralis, fairly growling the words. "It wasn't too much for her after all."

"What did you see?" asked Aeolis, placid and soothing.

"My father," she croaked, her throat dry. "The night he died."

Aeolis held a cup to her lips. Half-suspected it to be a spirit, some drink of the gods, she tasted it hesitantly, but it was only clean, pure water. Varia drained the cup.

"Why did you show me that?" she asked afterwards.

"We showed you nothing," said Uralis. "You only see what you must."

"I thought you offered prophecy of things to come."

The dark-haired Elder shrugged. "The path ahead is the same as the path behind."

Varia sighed with frustration. "You oracles can be very fucking cryptic, you know that?"

"It has been remarked," said Aeolis. "Do you remember what happened before your vision?"

The disorientation clouding her mind faded, and events came back with stark clarity. The taste of golden essence. The glyph painted on her stomach. The terrific heat, the excruciating zenith.

They spoke of changing me.

"She remembers," rumbled Uralis, reading the recognition in her eyes. "It is time we continued."

Aeolis shook his head, clucking his tongue reproachfully. "My brother is ever eager. But he has a point. Once begun, the ritual must conclude. One hopes the warrior has prepared herself."

They stood in unison, allowing Varia a long, savoring look at their perfect forms, the equal of each other in every way. Rigid knots of muscle across their stomachs, supple curves along their arms and legs. And between their legs, two astonishing pieces of equipment equally willing and primed for service.

They beckoned for her to rise and follow, turning as one to lead her. Heart beat quickening, Varia stood on bare feet and followed them. They passed through door she had not seen before into a marbled-hewn chamber lit by dim spheres of orange light marked by runic symbols. In the center was an enormous bed, oval in shape and adorned with pillows. The Elders waited beside it, gazes fixed on her. The purpose of this room could not have been clearer, and heat sank into her loins as the possibilities filled her mind.

"My turn, I think," said Uralis.

Moving with stunning alacrity, he caught Varia in a rough embrace and bent her backwards, kissing her possessively. The Elder nibbled her lips, invaded her mouth with his tongue, left no doubt as to his intentions. His member pressed insistently against her thigh, and he mauled her breast with one hand. He was taller than her by almost a whole head, and a good deal brawnier, such that his body overshadowed her.

He's clearly more aggressive than his brother. Varia didn't mind her lovers being aggressive. Often she preferred it. But she recalled the wolfish form Uralis had taken in the cavern hall, the way he'd bitten her with those powerful jaws, and it sent a terrified thrill through her.

Without warning, the black-haired brother lifted her in the air and tossed her to the bed. With a whoomp she landed on her back, breath shooting out of her. In an instant Uralis had covered her body with his own, barging her legs apart to make space for himself. His light blue eyes gleamed with predatory intent, and he licked his lips.

She decided not to make it easy for him. Varia was an accomplished wrestler, and although being knocked on her back and covered was a bad spot to be in, there were ways to turn things around. One hand went to the Elder's jaw, wrenching it aside, while the other worked on his arm, and her legs grappled with his torso.

But he was strong, terrifically strong, and only laughed at her efforts. Uralis caught the hand on his face easily, bending it above her head with ease. Then he captured her other and trapped it alongside its mate. Finally, confining both of her arms with only one of his powerful hands, he held her squirming hips in place with the other, pinning her in place.

"Bastard," she hissed, but her core was throbbing.

Uralis laughed again, and then kissed her forcefully, biting her bottom lip painfully. His manhood was probing her wet entrance. She had a brief moment of terror, glancing between them, when she fully considered his daunting size compared to her narrow sex, eager though it was. It certainly won't all fit. But it was too late to turn back. Uralis urged forward, parting her prim nether lips. Then with a roar of triumph he drove himself home.

Gods above!

She arched her back, gasping, clenching her muscles, wriggling beneath him. It was no use. Splayed and trapped and skewered, there was no place for her to go. Arduously full, Varia could only stare wide-eyed, open-mouthed, at the beautiful, powerful Elder above her, whose mouth twisted, feral and triumphant.

Her body rocked from the power of the oracle's thrusts, squeezing a yelp or a gasp from her each time. She struggled still, but with less vigor, gradually submitting to his strength. Uralis went deeper now, seeking her core, and she could feel the warm droplets of essence his regal manhood left inside her.

She flopped back limply onto the bed, letting Uralis have his way with her. Turning her head, she saw Aeolis sitting nearby, ministering to himself idly as he watched. He caught her gaze and raised an eyebrow inquisitively, as if in expectation, or challenge.

With a smirk, she realized his meaning. He wants me to demonstrate my spirit again. Uralis' grip had loosened on her wrists, and his head had drooped to kiss and nip and her neck as he quested ever deeper inside her. He wasn't paying attention because he believed she'd submitted to him entirely.

She seized the moment. Snapping her wrists free, Varia grabbed the Elder by the shoulders, twisted her legs tight around his waist, and heaved. They rolled as one, locked together, and suddenly it was Uralis on his back with her astride him, looking down at his stunned expression.

"Bold, human," he growled, he shock turning to appreciation. "You know I could easily overpower you, of course."

"Of course," she replied. "But even an Elder must like to surrender control sometimes. To be ridden by a human must feel galling."

She drove her pointer finger savagely into the round white scar on his pectoral, where she'd stabbed him with the ice spar earlier. He yelped in pain and gave her a primal, smoldering glare. Satisfied that her point had been made, Varia steadied her hands on his firm abdomen and rode him. Like a dancer, she twisted and undulated her hips, clenching so that he pressed within her in exquisite ways. She threw her head back and gave a husky moan, the fire in her loins stoking toward a ferocious blaze.

Something within her shifted. A part of her opened, and she slid down another inch, until her nether lips kissed the root of Uralis' manhood. She looked down with a stunned gasp, amazed she'd taken him fully. Even more astonishing, the glyph his brother had painted on her stomach was glowing now with radiant light. Uralis, as if responding to the sorcery, swelled inside her, and his crown nestled against her womb's gate.

Heat spread over her skin, lava burned through her veins, and she rode him with renewed fervor, desperate to reach her zenith. Uralis became frenzied as well, thrusting from below, probing at her core.

"Yes," she was repeating, though her voice hardly sounded like hers anymore. "Please, gods, I want to feel it."

Grinding, straining, stroking, sweat flinging from the tips of her nipples, her cunt clutching desperately, his cock battering rampantly, and then there, she was at the cliff's edge, tumbling over, tensing up, shuddering, exploding. His tip was wedged firmly against her womb's gate, and golden heat poured into her core like a fountain. Uralis howled in ecstacy below her.

She fell breathlessly to his solid chest, still coming, feeling dizzy and weak. He nipped at her ear, stroked her hair, held her tight. The feeling in her belly was indescribable, like tiny creatures made of light and heat buzzed within her.

"Now our Soul is within you," came his rumbling whisper. "Open yourself to our prophecy."

Her head filled with blinding light, her ears rang terrifically, her heart hammered unnervingly, she was spinning, spiralling away, going to be sick. The world disintegrated into vapor.

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Sunlight gradually filtered into her mind, falling in oblong beams across her face. She opened her eyes, becoming aware of a ponderous weight on her chest and the quick thud of a heartbeat besides her own. Her sex still thrummed faintly in the afterglow of climax, and her lover's softening cock was still inside it. Somehow Varia had ended up on her back, sheets tangled around them. The sun's morning rays streamed through an open window, and the trill of birds could be heard without.

The man crushed against Varia's breast stirred, lazily propping himself up on two hands so he could look loving down into her face. He had allowed his shaggy blond hair to grow longer, so that its wispy locks brushed his eyebrows. He ought to cut it, Varia thought absently. Erabus smiled crookedly with characteristic mirth before leaning down to give her a tender kiss.

"We ought to get up soon," he said. "The children will be clamoring for breakfast."

The children, thought Varia dimly. Of course. They're probably already awake.

"It's your turn to cook," she returned. "Or do we need to have that discussion again?"

Erabus made a show of sighing exasperatedly. "No, no, I am well aware of my responsibilities to this household. One does what one must for one's wife and children."

Varia could not help a chuckle at his irreverence. He stood, withdrawing from her at last, leaving her feeling disappointingly empty as usual, forever anticipating their next coupling. Erabus moved through the room, searching for clothes to begin the day. She sat up against the headboard to admire his athletic form, meticulously maintained despite their retirement from soldiering. It was a promise they had made to each other: even though their captains' shares of the Sure Blades' profits had afforded them comfort, they could never stand to see each other's bodies go soft.

"You're staring," said Erabus, looking over his shoulder at her with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Watching you dress is almost as nice as watching you undress," she replied, enjoying the way his breeches slid over his firm buttocks.

"Keep talking like that, and I might have to give you another pounding before breakfast," he said, shooting her a smoldering look.

Varia was on the verge of provoking him further when the sounds of children laughing echoed through the house, a boy and a girl, awake and hungry. She sighed, rolling her eyes, and allowed her husband to continue dressing, content to stay in bed for a few more minutes.

"I'll be back," said Erabus. "You'd better not still be naked when I return."