The Gorgon

The Gorgon Prologue Two figures walked through a corridor. The chill of the nightly air was blowing though both seemed too distracted to pay it much mind. They were talking in hushed tones, occasionally glancing back and around as if expecting to be surprised by an attack. No such attack came however, and gradually their caution gave way to ease. Their conversation reached its conclusion, and both reached into their coats. A purse laden with silver and a contract signed in blood exchanged hands. They walked into the night, the death warrant signed.

Chapter 1 For a courtier like Elias, the now dust-free halls of Tor Kaedron seemed oddly alien. He plied his living in and around these halls and to see them so clean foretold of important arrival. Elias didn't like that - the uncertainty of the new arrival made his own position in the court all the shakier. Even by his own admission, he was losing favour amongst the major players at court, and it would not be long before he found himself replaced or worse. He tried to put those thoughts behind him as he entered the Grand Reception Hall. It was unusually quiet. Only a few servants ran around, dusting some minor trinket here or there. He thought about looking around, perhaps even asking a servant, but his ego got the better of him. Rather than wait to find out, Elias walked from the Reception Hall with its great mouldering tapestries to one of the numerous alcoves behind them. At his usual haunt, to his relief, his contact Lady Alandra was seated, drinking her usual tincture of rejuvenating herbs. Feeling out of the loop, Elias resisted the urge to mock her intemperance.

"So, the cub finally rouses from his sleep?" she said, draining the tincture soon after.

"Only because the cow's moo woke him up," he retorted, taking a seat. Alandra could see the worry on his face. She knew it well. Luckily for her, those days were behind her. The nobles at court had far less use for a pretty face than they had for a master of the herbal arts. The irony of drinking of a rejuvenating potion was not lost on her though.

"How bad is it?"

"The war's over. Duke de Vance is dead and the king's in celebration. It's not a good time to be a dove around court, not with all the hawks around. You should see Jobel."

Elias snorted at the thought of seeing Jobel's snarling face happy, more so at the thought it looking down at him.

"What can I do? There must be something to keep me in good graces." Alandra leaned back into her arched chair. It was a rare moment that Elias was at her full mercy. She wanted to savour it, but time was not on her side. She reached into a fold of her dress and pulled out a slip of paper. Wordlessly, she handed it to Elias, who took it eagerly with anticipation. His heart sank as he read the note, the anxiety of court replaced with a more serious and primal fear. He looked at her expectantly, hoping this was a joke.

"You can't be serious right?"

Lady Alandra smiled at him. It was a cold and mirthless smile, like the one a snake would give a mouse.

Chapter 2 Elias strode carefully in the dark. One hand carried a torch, the orange flame offering scant reprieve from the dark. His other hand griped the hilt of his sword tightly. There had been no time to prepare to meet Alandra's request and so, he had come only barely prepared. A part of him still hoped Alandra sent him here in jest, but nonetheless he pressed on.

The map was clear. He had followed the cobbles as instructed and shortly came to the ancient door. So far, in his descent into the old prison complex, he had seen little to be frightened of. He knew the rumours of course, everyone did, but everyone also paid them little heed. Rumours were for the taproom, not for the court.

Yet, before him stood the door that by rights, ought not to exist. It was ancient, even by the standards of the prison and yet somehow, seemed impossibly strong. He felt it and despite the coldness and dampness of the prison, the door was slightly warm to the touch. Elias retrieved the simple key he had stowed in his purse. It was hardly a bejewelled token of power like the myths had claimed. In fact, to his sight, it was a simple iron key. He tried the key, and the lock clicked open. The lair of the Gorgon was now open.

Legends are a strange commodity in the world of intrigue. In some sense, a legend has the power to inveigle, or to dissuade. To instil a sense of wonder or dread in someone. In that sense, legends were of great value to Elias whose life revolved around plying every social currency in the market of influence. But he was not an adventurer. His lot was to speak and charm, not to delve into the dungeons deep. Yet, there he was, walking slowly and cautiously into the lair of a creature whose existence was only talked about in hushed conversations.

In his mind, Elias had imagined the Gorgon's lair to be richly bedecked with the countless treasures. The legends always presented the creature as deeply material, a myth which had come crashing into the spartan reality of the large cell he now stood in. "Perhaps Alandra was joking after all," thought Elias, spying no creature from the darkest pits. In fact, the cell seemed quite strange. There were no spots for candles, and yet a pale light came into the room from vents in the ceiling.

His paranoia faded and Elias relaxed his grip on his sword. Instead he snuffed out his torch and walked into the room. It was much bigger than he originally anticipated, easily rivalling the state rooms of a manor house. There were several doors built in which Elias imagined lead to separate chambers. The singular lock on the door was probably sufficient to hold whoever had been imprisoned here in the old days and so the other doors lacked for locks and, strangely, even handles.

Curious, Elias moved to enter one of the rooms, his nose detecting the faint scent of rose.

She was on him in a flash. Concealed from within the opposing room the Gorgon had spied Elias enter her chambers, unannounced and armed, and she had acted first. Within an instant she had uncoiled herself towards him, leaping like a knife in the dark. Elias had no time to react, let alone draw his sword, and found himself ensnared in the tail of the Gorgon, her powerful serpentine tail wrapped around his body, slowly crushing him. She could have killed him so suddenly but it was a rare day that she could even savour the feel of a kill, of prey squirming between her tail and savour she intended to.

Chapter 3 For Yharin, her banishment had been a difficult trial. Cast from her lands and thrown into a foreign jail, she had struggled to adapt. At first, she had raged and tried so desperately to escape. She would have cursed her lungs out for vengeance against her conspiring sister but the lock that held her contained powerful magic. Over time, the anger had given way to despair. A despair to never see the sun again, to feel its warmth on her scales and warm her blood. With the passing of time, even the despair went and was replaced with sullen acceptance. Now, however, as she held a struggling life within her hands, she felt alive again. It was a moment she intended to savour.

"Wa...i...t, pl...ea.se," gasped Elias as the Gorgon's tail wrapped tighter and tighter around him. His cries fell on deaf ears. To him, a monster from the darkest depths of hell had emerged and stood ready to kill him. He was moments away from passing into unconsciousness and did perhaps the only thing he could. He smashed his right hand into the scaly hide of the Gorgon and a great flash of light erupted, engulfing the room. The Gorgon hissed and recoiled, being so unused to the light, and released him, fleeing from the chamber. Elias fell to the floor, his expensive magic spent, and struggled for air.

Within moments the Gorgon had returned, now more wary of her prey. To his credit, Elias had unsheathed his sword and griped the rapier with a feeble hand. It would be little more than a nuisance against the tough scales of a Gorgon, but weakly gesturing it while gasping for air was all he could do. For her part, the Gorgon kept her distance and slowly paced about the room. The man's magic had surprised her, and she could not risk another trick just yet.

"Please, Madam Gorgon, I beg you to stop. I am no enemy."

"Then why do you come here, assassin? Bringing magic and steel to my prison if not to murder me?!"

Elias dropped the point of his sword, more from weakness than diplomacy, and tried to explain himself.

"I'm not a bloody assassin," he cried. "I was sent here as an emissary, on an errand. See?" He reached into a fold of his doublet and produced the now heavily crumpled paper. He motioned to toss it to her, but it fell from his limp hand. The Gorgon laughed at this and used her tail to pick it up and she slowly read it.

Almost instantly, Elias could see a change overtake her whole body at reading the letter. The script was foreign to him, part of the joke he had assumed, but now perhaps he realised the true nature of his mission. The Gorgon dropped the letter and sat back on her tail, in a much more relaxed pose. To Elias, she seemed almost happy in so much as her snake like features could signal.

"Human, what is your name?"

Between deep breaths, he managed to give it and to his surprise, the Gorgon reciprocated. Yharin, was a strange name to his ears, but she was a strange creature. He did not know what to do, and so his courtier instincts took over. When he was sufficiently recovered enough, Elias bowed before Yharin and stowed his sword to finally cement that he meant her no harm. In response, she let her tail finally relax on the floor.

In the light, and now far away, she seemed less monstrous than she had moments prior. Elias could see the gentle arc of her tail which lead to the supple body of a woman. Even though she wore rags on her torso, Elias could see the outline of a generous curve beneath them. It was nothing, however, compared to her face. The blending of snake and woman had been accomplished almost subtly. Her eyes were like lustrous emeralds and they stared at him with a captivating intensity. Elias found himself staring, even though only moments ago, this woman had nearly killed him.

"Forgive me please, I don't mean to stare. It's just that..."

"You've never seen a monster before."

"No, I've seen a living myth. They tell stories about you. You're not the haggardly crone I've heard about."

Elias noted a slight shift, a tightening in the muscles of her tail at his compliment, however unprompted. To Yharin, the human was amusing. She sized him up, looking at his scrawny frame. There was a presence to it, but one entirely at odds with the setting. She knew from his clothing he must have been a courtier of some kind, and from the nature of his errand, one with fading popularity. She could empathise.

Recovering his composure, Elias straightened his clothes and made to leave, his duty done. He flinched as the figure of Yharin bolted in front of him. Momentarily surprised, he made to draw his sword to defend himself, but stopped when he saw she made no gesture of harm, only blocked the way.

"Leaving now would be ill-advised Elias. There are...darker creatures that wander these halls after light has fallen. You had best stay here if you are to survive to deliver news of your success."

Elias was taken aback by the suggestion, but he was little in a position to argue. The near-death experience had robbed what little adventurous spirit remained in him for the day, and Yharin seemed friendly enough for now. He opted to stay.

Chapter 4 They had returned to what passed for Yharin's private chambers for the night. Elias had not expected to encamp, let alone in the middle of an abandoned jail, and so kept his travel clothes on. Yharin darted inside the room with an easy grace. She had been entirely unconcerned with the possibility of needing to host a guest, and so what sufficed for herself seemed inadequate. Elias had declined the offer of rat, however plump, and simply asked for a means to start a fire. Yharin retorted with how much she would like the same, gesturing to a fireplace with no logs.

Elias walked over to it. He thought for a moment and produced a small pouch of dust from his doublet before dumping it into the fire and concentrating. Yharin watched with growing amazement as he snapped his fingers and a spark alighted within the dust, before slowly building into a small but glowing fire. She darted towards it, almost knocking him aside.

"What is this sorcery! You lied; you're not a courtier!" she exclaimed as the fire grew slowly and steadily. Elias, recovering his balance replied that it was a simple party trick, something picked up as part of court. "Besides, I doubt an actual mage would have needed a parlour trick to avoid being crushed to death."

Yharin looked away slightly ashamed of her rashness. She moved towards the fire to bask in its glow. It felt so energising to feel its heat and instinctually, she started to coil up near it. She looked at Elias who had been keeping a distance and asked him to come closer.

"I'm truly sorry for attacking you earlier. It has been years since I last saw someone and I acted hastily."

"In a way, Yharin, we're both prisoners, so I understand. Now quit hogging the fire. I also need warmth to live."

The fire was only so large so Elias tried to make himself comfortable in front of it by laying over the large coiled body of Yharin. She seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the sensation of the heat and made no attempt to move, allowing Elias to sprawl over her. Before too long, they were both asleep.

Chapter 5 It was Yharin who awoke first. Her body had sensed the fire had gone out, and her own natural rhythm would only keep her asleep for so long. She tried to move, but felt a mass on her, and saw the placid form of Elias peacefully sleeping. He seemed to so content, sprawled out as he was. She noted that despite his stature, he really took up little space. She was about to turn over and thus, dump him unceremoniously to the floor, when she noticed a strange bump. Something had lodged itself inside of Elias' pants. She looked around and saw his sword resting in the room's corner before the she saw the bump twitch slightly. Her eyes widened with realisation.

She felt a mix of sensations, primarily excitement. The fire from last night has energised her senses more than she had realised and her eyes fixated on the bulge. Elias' breeches had been undone as part of his sleeping ritual, and this gave the bulge a little more leeway than normal. He continued to sleep soundly as she reached her hands downwards, driven by a primal curiosity. Yharin reached down to pull up the hem of his pants slightly. There, under the layer of fabric was his penis, more than half erect in the early morning. Emboldened, she reached down a little further, slightly shifting her tail so she could uncover his penis fully. Freed from the constraints of the pants it sprang to a fuller erectness, and she looked at it with a strange mix of desire and apprehension.

Gingerly, she let one of her hands reach down to touch it. It felt so warm to the touch - again, some part of her primal instinct compelled her to continue. That same instinct drove her to rub her hand up and down, slowly, stroking the penis gently. She heard Elias let out a gentle moan at her ministrations. He was still asleep but apparently somewhat aware of her actions. She was ready to stop when she heard his voice.

"Please...don't stop." She looked down. His eyes were awake, and he stared at her, longingly. He whispered it again, a little more urgent. Without saying a word, she returning to stroking his penis, this time with a greater intent. Her senses were very acute. She could feel his heart beating, each thump feeling faster than the last. He continued to softly moan as she stroked, moving quickly. As he lay on her tail, she felt the minute movements that pervaded his body. The arching of the back, the tension building within him. He reached his climax with a moan, and released his seed onto the floor near the fireplace. It was followed by a deep inhale as his body acclimated to the sensation of pleasure. As quickly as it had happened, Yharin uncoiled her body and darted from the room, leaving Elias with his pants down and slightly confused.

When he emerged from the room, properly dressed and fully awake, Yharin coiled into the corner. She seemed remarkably ashamed of herself, but it was Elias who moved to console her.

"I really appreciate what you did for me, Yharin. I imposed on your chambers and upset you. I didn't mean to ask you to..." His words trailed off, remembering the act. "I'm sorry. Really, I am. I'll be going now. You won't have to see me ever again."

She uncoiled at the news. She seemed less ashamed, the fiery personality reasserting itself.

"You're not leaving here...alone. I'm coming with you."

Chapter 6 Elias was stunned. Yharin stood impassively, waiting for him to respond. When he didn't, she crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. "Did you even read the letter you almost died to deliver?" Elias stammered a little. Normally, words flowed like wine for him but now in the aftermath of their intimate moment, Elias was struck speechless. Yharin smirked when she saw this.

"You weren't so quiet a moment ago when I had your manhood in my hand."

Elias turned red and shied away. She ignored him and moved closer, knowing for now she had the better of the conversation. He tried to offer some excuses or apologies but they bounced from her scaly hide. She savoured the moment until they were face to face. Her eyes looked into his and he blinked.

"Fine! I relent. But you must tell me the meaning of the message."

Satisfied with her victory Yharin retreated, giving him room to breathe. She produced the note and read it aloud. Elias' eyes turned from embarrassment to shock as Yharin recounted the missive from Lady Alandra. How it indicated that Elias was sent to die in the prison on behalf of another party, but in the event that he should survive, he would set her free and guide her back to the surface. He felt betrayed and angry that he could be cast aside so easily. Yharin saw the change come over him and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

"Now I'm not the only outcast in the dump. Shall we leave?"

They walked in silence through the prison, some distance apart, with Yharin in front and Elias trailing slightly behind her. Elias wanted to say something, to break the silence but his mind kept drifting back to the morning. In a way, his mind was still reeling from it and it kept him quiet. A similar silence hung over Yharin, although he did find himself looking at the rhythmic sways of her body as she slithered forward.

Yharin was still grappling with her own thoughts about the morning. She led the way, her sight much more adept in low light than a human's. She dwelt on the morning and knew it hung between them. Of the two, it was Elias who broke the silence first.

"You aren't what I imagined, you know, from the stories."

"They're stories; what would they know?"

"I mean, I'm not turned to stone. They call you the Gorgon of Abenvale. I thought..."

"I don't know, you seemed plenty hard to me."

Elias gave a deep laugh at this joke; the two shared the mutual humour in the moment. He had to admit, Yharin was more then she appeared. He was about to retort something in his defence when Yharin's tail darted to his lips, shushing him. She raised a hand and beckoned for him to crouch down. Unable to see the threat, Elias did as he was bade and crouched low, drawing his sword as he did. From his vantage point, he could see the cords of muscle in her tail begin to coil, as if she was preparing to lunge towards some unseen prey. In the moment, he wished he had remembered to bring his pistol, but the weight of the sword was reassuring.