Quest for the Dragon Soul Pt. 05

I

She sat quietly in a thickly cushioned chair built on a wicker frame -- her eyes were closed as she rubbed her swollen belly. She carried a new life inside her and she knew it was going to be unlike any life the world had ever seen.

Bailla'Tayne Jeva stood and walked to a large bowl sitting on a low table and she scooped a goblet full of water. The underground city of Melit'Zay was in an uproar over the discovery of her pregnancy by the purported carrier of the Pneuma Draconis, and by the murder and mutilation of the Oracle Cyphelia Desjaines. Bailla'Tayne Jeva cast a glance at the door and with a bit of concentration, she could make out the form of the two guards who stood watch beyond it. They were not there to guard her as much as to keep others out -- she knew many in the underground city cast her as the cause of the Oracle's death -- the guards ensured none foolish enough to trifle with her succumbed to their vain impulses. Even the wise Thierann of Gul'Vadesh, the Oracle's sponsor and lover, had turned on her in anguish and only the quick actions of the general Dagleon Talveiss and his enchanted sword Eldrath'Zhil had spared him from her wrath.

But Bailla'Tayne Jeva was content, and the child growing in her womb gave her power she had never known. As she thought of her child, she also thought of its father, Khaln Dharrec. Together, they had defeated the dream eaters and the were woods; they had made love in the aftermath and she was assured his new world was to be more accommodating than she had originally hoped. But they had been separated when they visited the port city with the crystalline walls of Videsh'Achar; she had been ultimately deceived by her past and had betrayed him to the Call of Skaelor.

She looked up at the fires that burned in hanging plates that illuminated her chamber -- with thought, the flames jumped from the plates and merged before her. Elemental magic had never been easy for her till her pregnancy -- she hoped to be able to use these new skills to find her Khaln, and if she failed, she would avenge him.

Bailla'Tayne Jeva found the mirror in the corner of her chamber and, as she was followed by the raging fireball, she disrobed. Her breasts had grown as her belly had -- her nipples were broad and sensitive to the touch. But, for all the joy this pregnancy had given her, she knew it was unnatural as only four days had passed since all realized she was with child. Bailla'Tayne Jeva motioned and the fireball separated and the flames returned to the hanging plates. She turned and found the platters of fruits and meats and began to eat voraciously -- she was eating for two now.

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After the incident that transpired at the Seeded Council, unrest had begun to spread amongst the various populations that inhabited the secret refuge under the ravaged city of Melit'Zay -- people who had arrived as refugees of the war with the Call of Skaelor and who had worked together towards a common goal of survival had fallen back upon their clan traditions. Allies were now rivals and old animosities buried in time resurfaced without the imposed neutrality of the Cardinal Roads to reign them in.

General Dagleon Talveiss and his Rogue Riders, as well as the ceremonial guards of the Seeded Council, were hard pressed to maintain a semblance of order in the caverns -- the Qoazti Companions had been tasked with securing the food dispensaries from raids but the clashes were inevitable. From his offices, the general could see the noose tighten around the Seeded Council -- his forces were better armed but the casualties of each side of a clash or skirmish undermined the efforts to maintain the peace and pushed the cracks in the populace ever deeper. Across his simple wood table were scattered reports on casualties, broken or stolen weapons and armor, and the amount of food stolen from the dispensaries -- there were also intelligence reports on the various voices that were speaking for an overthrow of the Seeded Council and the imposition of a new, haphazard government. Dagleon knew civil war was at his doorsteps.

The Qoazti archer Ziel-Tan watched her general as he pondered maps of the cavern system beneath Melit'Zay, identifying the most volatile points of unrest with colored circles. They had not been able to spend any time alone since the debacle at the Seeded Council and the revelation that the general was perhaps one of the legendary Cardinal Watchers. This was one of the calmer moments she had seen him afforded since the unrest began.

"Dagleon," she whispered.

The general looked up and immediately spotted her athletic silhouette moving in the shadows. She stepped out of the darkness -- she wore her leather armor and the standard leather patch over her scarred left eye. Her head was shaved bald but for a long tress of red hair that hung from the center of the back of her head.

"Ziel-Tan," the general answered in his broken, raspy voice. "Have you something to report?" But even as he asked the question he understood she was not there as a soldier.

Ziel-Tan snarled and turned to leave when she felt his rough, calloused hand grab her arm -- few would do such a thing without fearing the risk of losing that hand. "Ziel ... I'm sorry," Dagleon said as he spun her around.

The Qoazti archer looked at the general and she saw how the regret in his eyes was conflicting with his grim determination.

"I wish you would have told me," Ziel-Tan said finally as she embraced him.

"The sword? It's not an easy subject to broach. It would still have been a secret if not for a note Cyphelia left me."

"The Oracle knew before I did?" Ziel-Tan asked as she pulled back from the general, a shade of jealousy covering her face.

But before Dagleon could answer, his aide-DE-camp burst into the office and said: "General Talveiss! The river -- it's dry!"

"What?" the general demanded as he released Ziel-Tan and looked at her sharply. "We'll talk later."

Ziel-Tan nodded as the general returned to his young lieutenant. "Report Liervel!"

Liervel snapped to attention and reported: "The river's flow has become a trickle -- scouts have followed its tributaries till the Brerebdari settlement. There's nothing left."

"What of the Brerebdari themselves?"

"The settlement's empty," Liervel said. "There were signs of battle."

General Dagleon Talveiss dropped his hand to his sword Eldrath'Zhil and nodded gravely. The Brerebdari were a fierce desert people and were among the last to flee the advancing army of the Call of Skaelor -- they would not have been displaced easily.

"Assemble a host."

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Her body had been delicately washed and her wounds cleaned and sealed before she was placed upon the ancient stone table that had been used for funeral rites for millenia. Torches flickered all along the walls of the chamber while Thierann of Gul'Vadesh rested upon his knees and meditated over the body of his lover, the Oracle Cyphelia Desjaines. In his meditation, he allowed his mind to expand and sought the Aether for signs that might lead to the identity of Cyphelia's murderer. He also envisioned her body and scanned it for any trace -- a smell, or a disruption in the soured leylines that he could match to any essence in the underground city, or even a fragment of her eyes. There was nothing.

The old wizard looked down upon the Oracle's body. "Your visions were killing you and you were supposed to die in my arms, Cyphelia. Not at the end of a brigand's knife. But then, you and your sisters were doomed from birth, weren't you?"

Thierann remembered the story of three sisters born on the Guravass isles. One was a grief singer, one had the gift of foresight and one was born with purple eyes with silver irises, an oracle's eyes. Born with the ability to see beyond prophecy and interpret will of the Gods, Cyphelia Desjaines could not disguise her eyes so Thierann took it upon himself to travel to the archipelago to hide her and guide her in the use of her abilities. Her other sisters were safer with Cyphelia away.

Or so Thierann had thought -- Cyphelia had awoken one night and told him the Call of Skaelor knew the names of her sisters: Tiephy and Meyj. Thierann sent his spies but it had been too late -- the Call of Skaelor had fallen upon the Guravass isles and the sisters had been taken.

Months after taking the sisters, the Call of Skaelor came for the Oracle. But Thierann, with the aid of the Qoazti Companion of archers, fought the Call and even exposed a Dread Lord. The creature had been hideous and powerful -- but Thierann, having been spared the Arcane Ailment, fought the Dread Lord to a standstill and managed to escape to Melit'Zay with Cyphelia and the Qoazti Companion.

"And now, she lies there -- her purpose unfulfilled," Thierann heard from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and Odeena the Crone watched him, her long gray hair was tucked into a loose bun and she wore informal purple robes. He stood and considered the witch who ruled the remnants of the Seeded Council -- a seat he once held many years ago.

"This is not the time, Odeena," he growled as he marched past the witch. "You would have put her there yourself if Bailla'Tayne Jeva hadn't lashed out at the council."

Odeena followed Thierann as he paced across the funeral chamber. "Yes, we would have withdrawn council support -- but I would never have ordered her execution."

Thierann halted and grabbed the witch by the shoulders and pushed her roughly against the wall and said: "No, but did you ordain her assassination? Is your jealousy that poisonous?"

"Remember your place, lord Thierann," Odeena whispered and Thierann was suddenly pulled back against the opposite wall as thick roots projected from ground and wrapped themselves around his limbs.

Odeena straightened her robes as Thierann fumed -- his anger clouded his concentration, preventing him from countering her spell. "For the sake of your past services to the council and to our own past relationship, I will forget you put hands on me."

Thierann anger dissipated as quickly as it flared and he bowed his head -- Odeena simply nodded and the roots that bound him retreated into the ground.

"I have to find out who murdered her," Thierann said as he stepped closer to Odeena -- she remembered that years ago this proximity to him would have inflamed her womanhood. Even now, she felt a tingle between her thighs.

"Lord Thierann, I release you from your advisory position to the Seeded Council until such time as you have elucidated the murder of the Oracle Cyphelia Desjaines." And with those words, Odeena the Crone hoped to distract the wizard while she dealt with their pregnant visitor.

II

After seven days and nights of harsh sailing through riotous seas, the island sized barge had come to a halt during a rare calming of the mad weather that hovered above the Ardent sea. The young warrior named Khaln stepped out under the moonlight, tucked his black and granite colored hair into a ponytail he lashed with a piece of leather. He looked out upon the waters and saw the the reflections of the twin moons ripple as sea creatures fed on the insects that skimmed the waters.

Khaln gripped the hilt of his new found sword named Ax'Herith and the Quieting Angels that clung to the sides of the barge shuddered, the clouds of ash that covered their vile forms rising into the night. Drawing the blade, Khaln felt it vibrate in his hand as crimson lightning lept from the dark steel and struck his arms and chest. His skin glowed with pools of red light and he understood that the power within him that sourced magic in others was channeled to the sword. Handling the blade also reminded him of the time he served with his stepfather and half brothers against the Call of Skaelor and how they died while on a scouting mission -- now he sailed on a barge commandeered after he killed one of the Call's Dread Lords. Closing his eyes, he spoke the names of his family, including his cursed mother's, then engaged in the practice forms learned while with the Ordeyirgossian volunteer army.

As the blade arced and thrust, pivoted and parried, his foot work led him to dodge and pivot and flank and circle unseen enemies. Khaln began to sweat and grunt as the remnants of the serums used to keep him docile or alert worked their way out of his system, aided by a diet of cured fish and algae instead of lukewarm gruel.

As he practiced the more intricate sword choreography, Khaln glimpsed a tattered piece of flowing white fabric and then he heard a mellifluous voice rise into the night -- his movements naturally slowed to match the rhythm of the song that hovered amidst the stars.

The Matron Sonorous of the Call of Skaelor had joined the warrior Khaln, porter of the Pneuma Draconis, and sang. She had heard him whisper the names of people who had fallen around him and where he excised his grief through his sword, she sang for him. She was the one who had maneuvered him to a position to strike against the Dread Lord of Ax'Herith as her vehicle of vengeance, and he had been successful. He deserved some respite and the Matron Sonorous sang for Khaln Dharrec, the second son.

Khaln stopped his formed exercises and watched the Matron sing as sweat dribbled from his chin and down his thickly muscled chest and chiseled back. His hair was plastered to his skull and his breathing was heavy. He planted the long sword into the dark wood of the barge and then fell into a crossed legged position and closed his eyes, listening to the song of the Matron Sonorous. As her tune caressed his ears, Khaln felt the first drops of a cool rain strike his cheeks and he leaned back, basking in the soothing chill of the rainfall.

The Matron Sonorous noticed the rain drops flowing across Khaln's hard flesh as she approached him, her song softening and she kneeled by the resting warrior. She reached out and placed tentative hand on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat through his thick muscles. She was fascinated by how his skin cooled but remained burning at the same time.

"Where did you learn to sing?" Khaln asked while his eyes remained closed. The Matron's hands were slowly roaming across stomach and down his thighs.

"I am the voice of the Call of Skaelor -- voices are meant to sing," the Matron answered.

"No -- its more than that. The tune was soothing and appeasing. What were you before being a Matron -- some kind of mage?"

The Matron Sonorous rested next to Khaln after pausing to undo her cloak. She reached out and touched his shaggy face and said: "A lamenteer -- I was a lamenteer. I sang to sooth the pain of the mourning by taking their pain upon myself. My sisters were much more powerful. One even became a Matron."

"The one I avenged," Khaln said as he turned and faced the Matron. "I'm sorry for your loss." As he gazed upon her, he was both horrified and fascinated with her face: her lips were full and sensual and her nose small and regal -- but from the bridge of her nose, a ragged line dipped downwards to her cheekbones and back up around her ears. The upper part of her head was a skinless expanse of exposed, silvery bone -- her eye sockets were covered in bone and were as smooth as finely polished marble.

"She was a Matron -- the Vision of the Call of Skaelor," the Matron Sonorous said. "The Dread Lord of Ax'Herith destroyed her when she addressed a prophecy he disliked."

The Matron Sonorous pushed Khaln onto his back and she rested on her knees. "Do you remember once when I told you you were made?"

Khaln sighed as the Matron caressed the shaft of his manhood, pulling the skin from its top, exposing the purple head of his cock. "You never finished that thought," he groaned.

"I believe ... I believe you were made for me," the Matron whispered as she leaned her face to Khaln's. The hard tips of her pert breasts pressed against his chest and she touched her pale lips to his in a gentle kiss. He answered by parting his and letting his tongue touch her mouth. The Matron's cloak rested on the deck and the cool rain struck her skin and she responded by sucking on Khaln's tongue while stroking his cock ever faster.

Khaln felt the wetness of the Matron's mouth and it spurred his aggressive desire. As the rain fell more harshly, he pulled her body onto his and ran his hands across her hips and back while their tongues dueled. The Matron Sonorous shivered as the chilling rain striking her back contrasted with the heat arising from Khaln's flesh and the hot wetness from between her thighs. She wondered why she had been so oblivious to the desires of the flesh while still human.

Khaln hissed as his stiff cock touched the wet slit of the Matron's pussy -- its warmth was like flame for a moth and he thrust his hips upwards, the tip of his cock passing just beyond the petals of her pussy. The Matron trembled and reached between their entwined bodies and grabbed his cock, holding it steady as she slid it into her moist canal.

Khaln wrapped his arms around the Matron's slim waist and they moved with increasing vigor as they fucked beneath the pressing rain. The gargantuan barge seemed to rattle as they thrust in response to each other's desire -- the Matron was enraptured by the sensation of his shaft spreading and filling her and as she moaned her pleasure, the power of her voice displaced the waves around the barge.

The Matron rode Khaln's manhood, throwing her slim figure back and gyrating her hips, making his cock move within her pussy, giving boundless pleasure to every facet of her interior. He looked up and appreciated the sight of her smallish breasts swaying as her body was shaken by their combined movements.

The Matron Sonorous fell forward as she felt the walls of her cunt contract and shudder around Khaln's shaft as she came -- but she had not had enough of feeling Khaln thrust into her. She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him as she rolled off his chest.

"What are you doing?" the Matron Sonorous suddenly asked when Khaln slid out of her. His answer was to kiss her passionately before tracing a line down her chest and stomach. She cooed when he broke from the line and covered her tits with kisses and licks. The pressure he laid upon her nipples ignited a new wildfire of bliss that spread across her limbs -- it was further inflamed when Khaln reached her pussy and plied her clitoris with the fluttering of his skilled tongue. His every flicker sent a blissful ripple to her head, releasing her mind into an erotic aether.

Khaln explored her folds with a sensual curiosity as he delved deeper into the recesses of her pussy, hips lips and tongue pressing and touching, triggering a torrent of wetness to spew across his lips and down his throat. He savored the taste as the Matron's exotic nature gave her juices an intoxicating effect and he lapped and sucked at her pussy with vigorous intent.

The matron Sonorous surrendered to the passions that ravaged her body like a shaken, limp doll under the tutelage of Khaln's talented tongue. But he had other desires -- Khaln moved to his knees and entered the Matron Sonorous with a powerful thrust of his hips and buttocks. He then pushed her knees back, looked down upon the Matron's eyeless face and he fucked her with all the ferocious desire that engulfed him. He pounded her vigorously, the sight of the Matron's pale flesh rocking spurring him to fuck more intensely.

"Ohhh! Ohhh!" the Matron moaned with mounting pleasure while in the back of Khaln's mind, he pondered why he should find passion with a corrupted creature of the Call of Skaelor -- then the sensation of her slick cunt wrapping and squeezing his shaft reminded him why. It also reminded him that the Matron Sonorous was perhaps the most honest being, after his dead mother, he had encountered since his father and brothers died.