Quest for the Dragon Soul Pt. 04

"Don't stop," Ziel-Tan whispered even though her pussy was sensitized to where too much pleasure could blur with pain. Dagleon touched her cheek before pulling the leather band that covered her scarred left eye. He returned his hand to pin her arms and began to take slow, deep thrusts into her pussy, digging the tip of his engorged cock near the entrance of her womb while he kept his gaze locked with hers.

Ziel-Tan moaned as each of her general's thrusts triggered waves of burning bliss to spread across her flesh - she closed her eyes and let the madness of pleasure drown the surfacing memories of the past few months while she was in the presence of the Daughters of the Vanguard Draconis.

Dagleon watched as his lover drifted into the embrace of bliss, driven there by his relentless rhythm. His own pleasure was fanned by the sound of Ziel-Tan's labored breathing and he answered by scooping her thighs in his arms and his thrust became more about achieving his climax than prolonging hers. Ziel-Tan noticed the shift in his purpose and she was happy to free him of the burden of her orgasm so he could have his. To his every penetration, she contracted the muscles at the base of her pussy and she squeezed his member, pulling him nearer to his outcome.

Dagleon's raspy breath came quickly as his orgasm boiled at the base of his cock, the pressure pushing its way towards blissful release. Ziel-Tan wrapped her legs around her general's powerful buttocks as she felt his cock begin to throb against the sides of her pussy.

"Aaaahhhaaaahhh!" Dagleon Talveiss gasped as loudly as his scarred throat could allow when his cock ceded and his orgasm gushed into Ziel-Tan's awaiting womb - for a moment, he lost himself in the measure of ecstasy he surrendered to his Qoazti lover and she embraced his offering. He fell forward once the last drops of his come spurted from his twitching cock like farewell tears and Ziel-Tan hugged him close.

"Sleep here," she whispered when Dagleon moved to disengage from her. "Sleep in me and let's just never wake up from this dream?" He kissed her and tasted salty moisture near the edge of her lips.

For awhile, Dagleon Talveiss and Ziel-Tan of the Guravass isles were no longer warriors, but slept under a moonlit sky on a secluded stretch of sandy beach in a shared dream.

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A few hours had passed when general Dagleon Talveiss slipped from the bed he shared with his clandestine lover, the Qoazti archer Ziel-Tan, and he stood silently while gazing at her athletic dozing form. He sighed before turning and running his hand across the smooth curvature of his bed chamber's wall until he found the latch he had had made by a tradesman easily swayed by coin and threats.

After he depressed the latch, a part of the wall parted and Dagleon slipped beyond his chamber and into a secret sanctum. He grasped a burning torch and walked a few paces until he touched the torch to a plate with oil that ignited, illuminating a scabbard mounted on a cherry-wood display. The scabbard held a double edge, one handed bastard sword - its polished cross-guard glinted in the firelight. It was the sword he would wear to the Seeded council room beneath the Heligopol.

He delicately lifted the unassuming bastard sword from its hardwood stand and gripped the tapered, leather wrapped hilt and felt the familiar tingling course though his arm. The sword was named Eldrath'Zhil, the Spellbreaker. That it was in the possession of general Dagleon Talveiss marked him as a Cardinal Watcher - a human warrior without the gift of magic but trained to harness the forces encrusted in the forged steel of the blade. The Cardinal Watchers were a secret order established after the end of the second Wizards War - the King Vadesh had forbidden prophecy as an art to ensure that all mages and kingdoms were on an equal footing. Should ever the balance tip, the Cardinal Watchers were to act with one of four swords - balance was to be restored by the spilling the blood of the offending party.

The general remembered the days before he was to be ordained as a Cardinal watcher by his old mentor, Selgan. It had always been that way: a Watcher chose an acolyte and when they had achieved the appropriate mastery, the mentor would relinquish his sword and the acolyte became the new Watcher. All four watchers and their respective acolytes had gathered in Melit'Zay for the ceremony but they had been troubled - a reprobate sorcerer named Taffen had been attempting to learn the identity of the Watchers and locate the four swords.

Dagleon Talveiss, a young soldier at the time, had returned to his mentor's home on the outskirts of the city, only to discover Taffen had somehow overpowered the Cardinal Watchers and the acolytes. Dagleon stood motionless and hidden while he spied the wizard standing a midst his fallen companions - they had been sprawled out in a circle, each Watcher holding their designated sword while their chosen acolyte lied at their feet. Only Selgan was alone. Taffen looked upon the bodies and smirked, his long white beard moving like a tentacled beast. He then spoke and ancient incantation and moved his staff above his head in a series of glyphs that commanded the leylines of magic and the bodies levitated off the ground while the unsheathed swords floated above their owners, blades pointed downward and ready to pierce the chests of the watchers.

Fear had gripped the future general as the air around the sorcerer crackled with eldritch energies that reached out with lighting to engulf the Watchers and acolytes.

Taffen had then spoke in a high pitched voice: "I condemn these weapons of denial to the Void from whence they were never born and in which they will forever err!"

The eldritch lightning that surrounded the Watchers had then funneled up the swords and discharged a burst of energy at a spot over Taffen's head - the air suddenly grew ice cold while a column of pure darkness formed in mid air.

"I condemn thee," Taffen yelled as he twirled his casting staff above his head. "I condemn Ax'Herith, Oczeloth, Th'Aal'rhan, Eldrath'Zhil!"

Dagleon had felt his fear dissipate as Taffen named each of the enchanted swords and when he spoke the name Eldrath'Zhil, Dagleon remembered it was his duty to protect the sword and the legacy of the Cardinal Watchers. He sprang from his hiding place and launched himself at Selgan's crumbling body. Taffen saw him from the corner of his eye and he said a word and a burst of black lightning erupted from the floating structure of darkness. Dagleon had managed to grab Eldrath'Zhil before the lightning could strike him. He had brought the sword in front of him when the black lightning struck the exposed blade. Dagleon was knocked backwards while gripping the precious sword - when he finally hit a wall, the blade of Eldrath'Zhil had dug itself partially into the left side of young Dagleon's neck. Blood spurted from the wound and touched the blade still bathed in crackling black lightning; when his blood touched the lightning, energy retreated into the dark floating structure and a loud howl filled the room.

Dagleon had pulled a kerchief and pressed it to his wound while witnessing the dark structure deform into four homunculi that fell upon the swords and the sorcerer's casting staff. A web of dark, eldritch ribbons of energy spread, engulfing the enchanted weapons and the sorcerer Taffen, entering the bodies through the eyes and ears and nose and mouth. Dagleon finally succumbed to his fear and fled the madhouse that was to be the tomb of the Cardinal Watchers. As he ran into the night, he could hear the captive Watchers and the sorcerer become ... something else.

Since then, Dagleon Talveiss strived to redeem himself and had kept the sword safe, even during the massacres that were the battles with the Call of Skaelor. Upon taking refuge beneath Melit'Zay, he kept the sword secreted away from others.

Dagleon had glanced at the secret chamber when he had been visited by the Oracle Cyphelia Desjaines. She had knocked at his chamber door before his departure to search for Ziel-Tan and return her to Melit'Zay - the Oracle was in his chamber before he could even stand and the door was locked behind her.

They had confronted each other for some seconds - she wore a simple orange slip dress while he was dressed in britches and greaves but was shirtless.

"What do you want?"Dagleon had asked while Cyphelia cocked her head to the side and peered into him with her purple eyes with silver irises. Unlike other men, he was able to hold her gaze without effort.

"Perhaps you prefer me this way," Dagleon had said in his raspy voice, touching the scar that cut a swath across the left side of his neck. He walked toward the stand holding his silver chest plate and a sheathed, bronze ceremonial sword. He sensed her intense gaze on his muscled back, but he understood she was not examining him physically.

The Oracle simply said: " I am here to share something with you."

The general then turned towards the mysterious Oracle but the chamber door was closing behind her and she was gone like the wind. He had started to shake his head in annoyance when he noticed a piece of scroll on his bed. He had hesitated before reading it - it was a note written in an elegant style but the language felt like a more ancient version of Guravassi lingua.

Dagleon pondered it for a few minutes until he read: The vision I had - there was more. General, you will have a choice to make soon, and even if you choose wisely, it will still be the wrong choice, but it will be the only choice you can make. A spell will need to be broken, general. I know you'll be watching, as you always do.

"I'll have no part of any prophecy or vision, Oracle," he growled, but he had seen enough to know not to discount her words. From what she had hinted, he decided he would wear Eldrath'Zhil - he just didn't know when.

Until now. Dagleon carried the sheathed Spellbreaker from his hidden sanctum and placed it behind the stand where his chest plate usually hung. He then poured himself a goblet of water and drank until he heard sheets stirring and a long yawn.

"Are you all right?" Ziel-Tan asked groggily as she stood and joined the general - both in naked glory, he noted she was a bit taller than he was.

"Yes," Dagleon said while kissing the Qoazti archer's shoulder. "You'd best return to your chamber and dress - the council will be sitting soon."

VI

Bailla'Tayne Jeva had been received kindly when she entered the underground city that sheltered the refugees that had escaped to Melit'Zay. She was offered a bath and personal chambers with a full dressing room - she accepted the hospitality wholeheartedly but understood that the appearances were merely to cloud the fact she was still a prisoner, but in a gilded cage. When she had been led underground by members of the Qoazti Companion, she had not expected to be treated so warmly when the surviving populace where living in squalor. From peasants to merchants to nobles to the surviving Magedom, the city beneath a city was divided according to station, where the wealthy and powerful occupied the plush center while the poor and suffering haunted the outskirts. After 500 years since she was exiled with the dream eaters, society had not changed.

But after being led by the Prime Archer of the Qoazti companion, Maca-Jal, Bailla'Tayne Jeva now stood in stunned silence as she examined the glory of the serpentine ribbons of obsidian crisscrossing the crystalline ceiling of the huge chamber beneath the equally breathtaking Heligopol. Hundreds could be seated in the great, coned shaped chamber, but only a few dozen occupied the space. In front of her was a series of semi circular pulpits stacked 5 rows high - men and women in once regal dress occupied the myriad seats on the different levels. The highest level had one chair occupied by a stern looking woman in a simple robe. Her long gray hair hung loosely around her shoulders - the Blade Bride deduced this to be Odeena the Crone, head of the Seeded Council.

To one side was a table made of a slab of pink marble with jagged edges - behind it sat two individuals: a woman dressed in bright green and orange robes with a large headdress and an older man, his lean figure in a simple gray tunic. Opposite them was the audience seating, occupied by members of the Qoazti Companion and off duty Rogue riders - Maca-Jal and Ziel-Tan sat at the front of the section while general Dagleon Talveiss discussed with the sergeant at arms who commanded the guard detail protecting the chamber. The general wore a bronze chest plate and greaves but his heavily muscled arms were free and he wore a green cloak denoting his rank. Bailla'Tayne Jeva noticed the general carried a more modern arming sword while the sergeant at arms and the guards carried bronze swords. The guards stationed at the doors carried long pole-arms with long, curved blades at their tips: bardiches.

The Blade Bride also noted the arrangement of onlookers as she scanned the chamber - near every guard standing at attention were three individuals within striking distance. She was certain the general had noticed the disposition of the audience - if the revolt she caught wind of happened, the guards would be easily overwhelmed.

"This council is not heading the revelations of the gods!" the Oracle Cyphelia Desjaines shouted as she slammed her hand on the marble table she sat behind. "The Ordeyirgossian is the causal nexus the gods used to bring Lady Bailla'Tayne Jeva to us when fate decided another path for him."

"Your prophecy was that the he was to be the key to delivering us from the Call of Skaelor, Oracle!" Odeena the Crone shouted back as the audience rustled and voices rose. "This woman is a relic - what little magic she might have possessed is only worth anything in the presence of the Ordeyirgossian ... and he is not here."

"Lady Bailla'Tayne Jeva is not a relic," Cyphelia stated. "She is a gift from a past untouched by the Arcane Ailment or the Call of Skaelor. From her account of her contact with the Ordeyirgossian - which was confirmed by Ziel-Tan - we know that he is directly linked to the spark of magic.

"We also know the Call used her to track him while he was hidden in Videsh'Achar - and I am sure she regrets her unwitting participation in their scheme."

Bailla'Tayne Jeva gaze narrowed on the Oracle as she reminded the council of the Blade Bride's betrayal of Khaln - the Blade Bride had stared the Oracle in her purple eyes with the disquieting silver irises upon entering the chamber and had not turned away from the gaze, which she understood was a rare feat. When she had finally broken her eyes from the Oracle's, she felt a nagging sensation that she had forgotten something since her return to the world.

Cyphelia Desjaines walked from behind the marble table and extended a hand towards the Blade Bride and said: "She has the ability to sense the Ordeyirgossian. I'm certain that if asked, as a guest of the council, she will aid us in finding him."

Bailla'Tayne Jeva bristled once again and broke her silence. "Guest? I'm no guest. At best, I'm a prisoner in a gilded cage. I come into this world and find I have nothing left. Then I found him and in the end I betray him - it eats me up inside."

"I will aid you, I will," Bailla'Tayne Jeva said as she placed her hands on the lectern she was standing behind. "Say his name."

"What are you talking about?" Odeena the Crone scowled at Bailla'Tayne Jeva. The other council members stared nervously at each other while Cyphelia Desjaines watched the Blade Bride intensely.

"You call him the Ordeyirgossian, casual nexus, prophecy ... but do any of you even know his name?"

Bailla'Tayne Jeva walked around the lectern and stood before the Oracle. "Your visions say he will change to he world - the world's already changed. It always does, regardless of prophecy or gods or magic. That's it nature."

"Did you know he was looking for clues to who his father was? Did you know his mother sold herself to a warlord during the war with the Call in order to survive? That she was raped and he was still raised by hi father as one of his own but that his mother despised him?"

Bailla'Tayne Jeva's words seemed to hover over the council chamber as she challenged the members of the Seeded Council to answer the questions she posed them. The men and women representing the city states that took refuge beneath Melit'Zay averted her gaze while Odeena the Crone was unabated.

A sudden flash of intense light broke the awkward silence as Odeena held her hand high and willed the light to appear. "Enough of this foolishness!" the witch ordered. "Guards, return lady Jeva to her chambers."

"I will not be silenced," Bailla'Tayne Jeva said flatly. "His name was ... is - Khaln Dharrec."

"His name is not important, Lady Jeva," Odeena the crone said. "His birth was an abomination and his actions have served to confirm that. He's in the grip of the Call of Skaelor - a position you put him in."

"I know my actions and I will atone for them," Bailla'Tayne Jeva whispered, her breath suddenly visible. Many onlookers experienced the sight of their own breath and huddled together while looking up - the air echoed with a hushed creaking as a sheath of ice formed at the center of the ceiling of the council audience room and crept downwards across the walls. "But I will no longer be a prisoner."

Odeena the Crone caught the sight of her breath and willed a ball of fire to ignite before her - she said, "Enough lady Jeva! The articles of Arcane Accession prohibit the exercise of magic by unseeded witches or wizards!"

Bailla'Tayne Jeva ignored Odeena's warning and felt the leylines of magic flow through her and stretch out like a web across the council chamber - knots in the lines stood where they intersected with people, and the knots glowed and grew thick around mages. But like all those touched by the Arcane Ailment, the knots were dim and the strands would unravel. Only Thierann seemed to have a potent, constant glow that denoted his immunity to the Ailment.

Odeena the Crone also saw the leylines of magic, as did all of the Seeded members of the council - but she had never witnessed as striking a concentration as what passed through the Blade Bride. The Crone unleashed her fireball against Bailla'Tayne Jeva, infusing it with all the will she could center on the Blade Bride.

Bailla'Tayne Jeva saw the fireball fly towards her and in her mind, she was able to see the intricate structures of conflicting force that fueled the fire. She felt a tear run down her cheek for she had never before seen the invisible beauty behind the exploits of magic - but with a simple breath, she extinguished the Crone's fireball and watched its ethereal structures dismantle.

"She's pregnant," Cyphelia Desjaines whispered to Lord Thierann's ear.

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Thierann witnessed the fireball Odeena the Crone had cast at Bailla'Tayne Jeva and saw how it was swept aside by the Blade Bride, a feat even the most experienced and powerful seeded Witch or Wizard would have had difficulty performing. But as he felt the air grow chillier and saw the growing red glow erupt from the Blade Bride's womb and pierce through the heightened perceptions of leylines and light the faces of the attending audience, he knew Cyphelia's words rang true: the Blade Bride carried the child of the keeper of the Pneuma Dracona.

Thierann signaled to a member of the Qoazti companion to lead the Oracle back to her chambers but instead, Cyphelia Desjaines gripped the wizard's arm.

"I didn't see this happening," the Oracle whispered. "How could I blind to this?"

"Cyphelia, you once told me an oracle can never see beyond their own death," Thierann said as he grasped her shoulders. "You have to leave now!"