The Rise of the Spell Caster

She watched Roger rise and walk over to the pig and start to untie it from the tree branch it was suspended from. He lowered it gently to the ground and then lifted it and carried it over to the small stream that ran from a nearby lake down to the ocean. She knew he would be quick with it. Roger was a powerful ranger and knew how to live off the land. He also knew animal biology and their makeup better than some witches Glenda once knew. He would butcher the carcass in no time at all.

He completes me, she thought. I couldn't live without Roger beside me. He gives me such strength. Where I am weak, he is strong.

She could watch him clearly from their campfire. His knife glinted in the sunlight as he made quick work of the carcass. She could see his strength and skill as he worked and as always it got her feeling a little randy. He was such a virile man. So skilled. So open to new things.

In fact, she realised, I'm feeling more than a little randy which means...

Roger looked over when Glenda moaned. He knew that sound and he dropped his knife and rushed over to her. "Glenda? Are you having another vision?"

She managed to nod once before everything around her faded into obscurity and pleasure exploded through her.

Her vision was filled with a burst of white light. When it cleared, she saw a black and white egg sitting on grassy ground, powerful heat radiating from it. It was rocking in place and Glenda knew whatever was inside was trying to get out. The brown grass around it smoked and then caught fire. A crack appeared on the egg and heat and flame poured out. Then her vision spun away until it settled on a large army of humans, led by King Arbuckle, marching south toward the fae lands with a massive column of soldiers, horses, and machines of war.

Despite the horror of the vision, pleasure erupted inside her and her pussy was instantly soaked. She felt hands holding her, fingers searching until they found her centre and plunged deeply inside her. She knew it was Roger and welcomed his practiced touch. She writhed with the pleasure. Roger knew exactly what to do at times like these. Waves of carnal joy washed through her as she watched the human army marching and marching. A massive dust cloud rose behind them and darkened the sky. War banners were held aloft. Spears and pikes waved like the long grass of a savanna. Calvary rode with high steps from the horses. Drums and flutes beat a cadence and filled the air with the call to war.

Roger's fingers left her cleft and she moaned at the loss, but she felt herself being moved and then his hard cock penetrated her. Her head went back, and a deep satisfied moan escaped her lips as his cock penetrated deeply and fed her pleasure. Her vision swam and then cleared. She was floating high above the fae lands. She saw two massive lines of fae soldiers facing each other across the crater where Yanwey used to be. The Night and Light fae were going to war but it was much too early, she knew with certainty.

Glenda knew enough about the role the fae played in the world to know that the seasons depended on their wars. Life depended on their wars. For them to be this early was worrisome. Through the fae the seasons turned and changed. Their war coming this early would disrupt the cycle of life. Glenda didn't know what would then happen. If Spring were too early the regrowth across the realm would suffer. Rains would not fall as predicted. The summer would scorch and burn crops. Winter would come hard and fast and make living near impossible. All this came to her as her vision washed pleasure through her as if mocking the horrors she was witnessing.

As she watched, and as Roger's cock drove relentlessly and wonderfully into her depths, her vision changed. She watched the human army clash with both fae armies. This was the war of all wars. Fae and humans fighting for dominance. Horns blew. Horses charged. Spells erupted. Blood flew. Screams rang. It frightened her deeply. In the span of mere moments thousands of lives were ended as the three armies clashed with a sound that hurt her ears.

Her sight was pulled unerringly to a central spot where she spied a lone object, lying in the middle of the three armies. The cracked phoenix egg radiated heat in all directions, the grass burned black for hundreds of yards around it. Each army fought toward it, seeking to possess it. And then the crack split the egg with a noise too loud to believe, and everything froze for a moment. Then it erupted with a blinding, noiseless flash of pure white light. Glenda gasped as she watched the flesh of those closest to the egg vaporised, revealing their bones for a moment before they too were consumed. Then two massive birds erupted from the egg, bathed in pure fire, and screeched flying high into the sky. They writhed together circling, and then as Glenda watched the larger bird mounted the smaller one and they copulated in the sky. The phoenixes cried out in pure joy and then they exploded in liquid fire.

Liquid flames spread like a flood outward and engulfed what remained of the three armies. They were consumed in an horrendous explosion of heat, sound, and light. She saw humans, fae, and horses melt and vaporise in excruciating detail. The massive explosion dug deep into the soil and left behind a crater that was enormous in scope.

She could never look away in her visions despite how hard she tried. She was a seer, and she had no choice but to observe the vision in its entirety. Her vision was pulled to observe the two phoenixes flying and writhing against one another in an orgy of sexual delight. Surprised to see the two birds still whole, Glenda watched them rocket higher in the sky and then depart in two streaks of fire toward the Wilds, flying in close formation, circling one another.

The explosion dissipated leaving a crater behind larger than even Windhaven. Glenda was horrified. She had never witnessed such destruction in all her years. She wanted to sob but her visions left her no other emotion other than lust and pleasure. It was the worst part of her powers. To have pleasure tied so closely to horror unnerved her. Her visions always came with pleasure despite what she would witness. Sometimes it was far worse feeling sexual pleasure while witnessing such destruction. And this vision was by far the worst she had been forced to endure.

She looked around as best she could, dependent on her peripheral vision to see more. Then she heard laughter. A loud gleeful sound that sent shivers down her spine. She knew that laugh. She had heard it once before in the Wilds during her youth as an adventurer.

It was Maeve. She had come to this place. Glenda watched and then saw hundreds of the Wild fae appear at the edge of the massive crater, all of them screeching and laughing, Maeve leading them. They rode on massive elk with towering antlers and rushed down the embankment toward the crater in the centre.

Maeve arrived first and vaulted off the elk. She ran toward the centre and stopped looking down at something. Maeve was between Glenda and whatever lay there. Glenda struggled to see past Maeve, but her visions never allowed her that luxury. She would see only what she was allowed to see.

Then Maeve turned to Glenda and looked her right in the eye. Glenda screamed in fear, but she couldn't move. She was trapped in the vision. Maeve's eyes bore into hers, and a smile crept up her face that showed far too many of her sharp, pointed teeth.

"Hello, Little Glenda. Having fun yet?"

Glenda screamed in horror and then in a flash of white light the vision started over.

* * *

"Have a little more," urged Roger. "Please. You have to eat."

Glenda shook her head and remained curled up under her blanket. When she had finally emerged from her vision, she had been unable to stop screaming. A part of her mind knew enough to try and control herself, but she had been unable. The horror kept cycling in her mind. She cried herself to unconsciousness. When she woke the horror returned and with it the screaming and crying.

Roger stayed beside her and held her tight. He never wavered. Never left for a moment other than to carve off slices of pork or to replenish their water. He held her through it all. Her throat was beyond damaged. Her vocal cords had torn and all she could manage was a rasping croak around the rag Roger had jammed into her mouth to stop her from biting her tongue.

She was helpless to everything. The small sane part of her mind that remained held on to who she was as the vision continued its hold on her. Closing her eyes did nothing so she kept them open. At least then the vision was partially obscured by the reality around her. It was barely enough to hold on to her sanity and she grasped at it in desperation. She could feel Roger's strength feeding her and thought briefly about Daniel Davies suggesting they bond together. She pushed those thoughts aside and held on as the vision cycled once again. The details were so burned into her memory that she could describe every soldier's face in the three armies.

It took three days, but finally the vision left her completely. The sudden absence was unexpected and once it was gone, she collapsed, all her strength gone in an instant, and she happily descended into oblivion.

When she woke, she had no concept of how much time had passed. She lifted a hand to her throat and coughed to test it. She felt nothing wrong. The damage was gone. Her eyes fluttered open to find Roger staring down at her with concern. His eyes searched her face with worry and then looked into hers.

"Hi hon. Welcome back. Are you okay? Can you sit up?"

Glenda blinked and turned her head on the ground to look up and around her. They were still at the campsite. The remains of the small pig carcass were supported by wooden branches over the small fire which crackled and hissed as melted fat dripped unto the coals. Bloody rags lay by the fire next to an empty healing potion bottle. She felt so weak and so very tired.

She nodded at Roger and with his help she was able to sit up. Her head felt like it was swimming and she held her head with her hands waiting for it to pass.

"R-roger?" she whispered, afraid to feel the damage to her throat. When she spoke clearly and effortlessly, she sighed in relief. "Oh, thank the gods, my voice is okay."

Roger nodded and took her hands in his. "I used the last healing potion on you after you passed out. I didn't want to waste it too soon. You tore a lot of muscles. You broke your right wrist after I tied your hands. You were trying to scratch your eyes out. That potion was a blessing, let me tell you. Bitty is a wonder."

Glenda digested his words. She had no memories other than the vision. "How long?"

Roger hesitated before answering. "It's been over three days, hon. You've been unconscious for a day." Roger reached over and picked up the bloody rags. "You nearly bit through your tongue. Can I burn these, or do you need them for anything?"

She shook her head and watched as Roger burned them. He was always wary around blood, especially their own. The Witches' War had changed how he viewed magic. He did nothing without first asking her. She smiled and reached out for him, and he wrapped her up in his strong arms and held her tightly. She soaked in his presence and strength. She could feel his concern. Tears leaked from her eyes. She loved this man so much.

"That was horrible, Roger! That was the worst vision I have ever had. I thought it would consume me! It was too powerful!"

"Can you talk about it? You said nothing the whole time. Your eyes were almost always rolled back in your head. You held yourself so rigid I couldn't move you. I could only hold you down and protect you as best I could. You nearly bit your tongue clean off, love. That was a bad one. The worst one ever."

Glenda moved her tongue around in her mouth. It was fine now. The healing potion had been a potent one. They had been saving it for a dire situation.

She almost chuckled. That was pretty dire.

Glenda put a hand around Roger's neck and pulled him down for a kiss. She could feel the tension leaving his body as she reaffirmed her love for him. She pulled back and really looked at him. He looked exhausted. Dark circles hung from his eyes. His hair looked a little greyer. Lines of worry etched his face in new ways.

"I'm sorry, love," she said. "That was truly terrible. The vision consumed me. I was forced to watch it thousands of times. So much death! So much fire!"

"Can you speak about it?" he asked gently. He was holding her like a piece of fine pottery.

"I'm fine now, Roger. My strength is coming back. You look like you need your own rest. Have you been awake this entire time?"

Roger nodded. "Yes, but that's not important. Tell me what you saw."

Glenda nodded and then started, at first worried speaking of it would start it over again. She had been a seer her entire life, and for the first time she was afraid of her powers. Afraid of what they showed. But she started slowly, and when nothing happened it flowed out of her like puss from a deep wound. Roger listened attentively and never interrupted once. When she finished her description and repeated what Maeve had done and said to her, her emotions surged and overwhelmed her, and she started sobbing into Roger's shoulder as he held her tight and ran a hand through her hair.

"Shh, shh! It will be all right, hon. Stay calm. We don't know what this means yet. You know how your visions can have meanings we don't see. It's okay. We're okay."

She stopped sobbing only when she had no more tears to shed. She was drained. She didn't think she would even be able to stand. Roger, always ahead of her, somehow knew this.

"Lie here. Let me cut you off some choice bits and feed you. You haven't eaten this whole time. I tried to feed you, but I was afraid you would choke. I managed to get water into you, but that's all."

As soon as he said it, Glenda felt her hunger. She was starving and her limbs began to shake with the need for food. "Gods yes, please. Feed me!"

Roger grinned at her and turned to carve off hunks of meat from the spitted pig. Glenda groaned in pleasure as the crackling skin of the pig crunched between her teeth followed by the sweet and juicy meat. She barely chewed before swallowing her bite. She tore off another chunk and almost swallowed it right away.

"Easy, hon! Take it easy! Chew your food. You'll choke!"

Glenda growled but tried to chew more. The juices poured down her throat like the sweetest wine in the world. Roger turned back to the fire chuckling and poured a mug of tea from the tin teapot sitting at the edge of the fire to stay hot.

He handed her a mug. "Careful, it's hot. This is the last of the tea Bitty gifted us. I think this is a good enough occasion to finish it, wouldn't you say?"

Glenda nodded and continued to tear into the chunk of greasy pork in her hand. She paused long enough to sip the tea. The heat and flavour of it felt like a balm to her soul. "We have to find out where she bought this," she managed to say between bites and sips.

They sat and ate in silence. Roger's head was bowed, and he stared at his boots. She could see he had little left.

"Thank you, love," said Glenda into the silence. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't been with me."

"You would have died."

Glenda blinked at the abrupt answer. "What? No! Never."

Roger turned his head and looked right at her. "You would be dead. It wouldn't leave you. Do you remember crying out for me to help you?"

Glenda shook her head. She had no memory of that at all.

"You pleaded with me at one point to kill you. Do you remember that?"

Glenda could only stare at him in horror.

Roger blew out air. "You did. I thought I was going to lose you." Roger laid back on the ground, put his hands behind his head, and looked up at the passing clouds.

Glenda put down her empty mug and wiped at her eyes. "I'm sorry, Roger. It... it was truly terrible. The fire and all those lives, gone in an instant." She lay on his side, with her head on his chest. "But the worst was Maeve. Every time I went through it, I knew she would be there at the end. With her face. And those eyes. Plus, that sneering voice. She saw me in the vision. I know she did. And her words would change a little. Sometimes she would say 'Hello, Little Glenda. Having fun yet?' Other times she would say, 'You again? Like what you see?' I swear she was there. She was somehow in my vision, sharing it with me. Over and over."

A loud snore came out of Roger startling Glenda, and she lifted her head to stare at him in surprise. Her face softened and she brushed some of his greying hair from his face and watched him sleep. The worry and strain on his face faded and in time the face she knew so well was back again, sleeping soundly.

"I love you dearly, you foolish ranger. Thank you."

It took two more days, but Glenda was finally strong enough to walk into Eastwold. Roger carried the bulk of their gear and insisted she not overexert herself.

"I'm not some damsel in distress, dear man."

"You were."

"Yes, yes. I know. That was the first time."

"And look at you now. You've lost weight. You know you have."

"Now I'm just spryer. You'll be Hades bent to keep up with me in bed now, mister."

"Sounds like a challenge. I accept," laughed Roger. Up ahead the town gates loomed. Roger looked around for guards, but the gate was deserted. No one stood on the walls. He looked for smoke from chimneys, but the air was clear.

"Aren't you afraid of breaking my frail bones? I'm so dainty now."

"Honey, I'm gonna break new ground filling your holes. And since when have you ever been dainty in bed?" Roger pulled a small piece of wood from his pocket and suddenly it expanded into his ornate long bow. With years of practice, his fingers felt for the magic bow string to prove to himself it was there. His weapon was a wonder. The bow looked ornate but had no string to speak of, nor did he carry arrows. When he used the bow, he conjured arrows from the ether and the magic of the bow replaced the need for a string.

Without breaking stride, Glenda pulled her pouch of spell components free from her robe to hang at her belt. She eyed the gate with Roger. Words weren't necessary. They both saw the lack of guards at the gate as a problem.

"Sense anything?" Roger asked.

She always sensed the grimoire, but Roger didn't mean that. "Nope," she said and felt the air with her sense. "Wait, yes, I do. It's faint but getting stronger."

"Witchcraft?"

"Yup. Feels weak though."

"Weak?"

"Wrong word. New, maybe."

"Dammit."

"Drop everything here? By the road?" asked Glenda, but Roger was already walking to the side to place their packs behind a large circular boulder.

Roger stood up and looked around the area. "All the animals are gone. I can't sense a single animal within a mile."

"Ugh. I was really hoping these days were behind us."

"Because of Daniel?"

"Of course because of Daniel. And his witches. He's a powerful force of good in this world. I had hoped..."

"That hunting witches was over?"

"Yes. I know. A foolish dream of a naïve girl."

"Honey, you are anything but naïve."

"Hmm. True. But I can hope, can't I?"

"You and me both. Shall we?"

Glenda looked toward the town gates a few hundred yards away. "Yes. Let's get this over with. After that vision, I'm prepared for anything. Nothing could be as bad as that."

"Are we just too late this time, you think?"

"Are you asking if the delay my vision caused means we missed an opportunity to save lives?"

"Yes."

"No, I don't think so. This is new, but not that new. A figure a month has elapsed since the tome took over."