The Sorceressbymoonlight elf©
Ceara frantically ran through the night. It was pitch black. The only light was coming from the fire that burned her house. The flames rose higher and higher. Her lover was caught inside. She ached all over; her arms and legs were burned badly. Blisters had formed on her feet and yet, she still kept running. She had to get help.
It was the night of Samhain. This was the one night when the boundaries between the world of the living and the dead became blurred. This night spirits roamed the earth and magic was strong. Ceara headed toward a little hut in the woods. The druid priest lived there. He would be able to help.
Ultan woke to hear loud knocking on his door. He opened the door to find a young woman in tattered clothes, her lovely face covered in ashes and her eyes full of dread. "Help me," she whispered then passed out.
When she came to it was daylight. Her limbs had been bandaged and her burns were healing. She immediately called for Farrell, her lover, remembering the fire. Ultan came into the hut to find her weeping. Sobbing she asked the druid priest if he had been able to save Farrell. It was now two days later and the priest learned too late what the woman had meant by her words "help me". Ceara crumpled into a ball, tears staining her face as she mourned her beloved.
Finally, she had done it. She had completed her training under the druid priest. Ultan had taught her the magic of the druids. He had schooled her in everything from healing to astrology to the mystical powers to communicate with the dead during the time of Samhain. She thanked her teacher and made her way back home. She had rebuilt the place. It was where she and Farrell had lived, laughed, and loved. It was home. She planned to bring life back to the place. She planned to bring Farrell back to her.
Night after night the door to the study had remained locked with Ceara within. Over the years she had carefully gathered all the materials and instruments needed for her ultimate spell. There in her study she fashioned a laboratory. The laboratory prepped for her spells and experiments in the arts of changing the flesh and bone, of communicating with spirits, for transforming objects. The floors were covered in notes and studies. The library of her study was full of druid books of lore and magic. Many of which now lay sprawled out amongst hand written notes on the mat between the desk and the fireplace.
Samhain was just a day away. She busied herself gathering materials for her spells, making potions and preparing the place to perform her sorcery. The casting of the spell would be difficult and even dangerous. The difficulty lay in the fact she had no remains of the dead, all she had was ashes. It was an almost impossible task to transform ash into flesh and bone, and then pour life back into the body. Ceara remained determined to perform her spell, even if it meant taking a different path, a darker path than she was taught to follow. She was so close; she couldn't give up now.
It was late at night when she finally finished. Humming to herself she made her way to bed. Thinking of Samhain night; she anticipated seeing her Farrell again. In bed she tossed and turned remembering him, the passion they had shared. She missed him, missed his touch, his passion, and his love. She closed her eyes imagining him there with her.
Something was pulling him; no someone's thoughts were reaching him. Someone was thinking of him. Farrell walked through the halls of the spirits. He knew it had to be his Ceara. He had felt her thoughts through the portal between the two worlds. It was past midnight, it was already Samhain. He could feel the thinning of the barrier and he walked impatiently towards it, waiting for a chance to enter the human world.
A thick fog covered the forest as the barrier gave way to the spirits awaiting entry. Farrell made his way home. The spirit had come to see her every Samhain since his death. He found peace in knowing she was okay, and he loved watching her. To him she was beyond lovely. Her long flame-colored hair felt like silk and her face was a delicate oval with the slightest dusting of freckles. Her body was soft and curvy. He missed having her in his arms and watching her gave him such pleasure.
Ceara was lying in bed. The room was dark except for a single candle. Farrell made himself comfortable in a chair beside the bed, observing her. She lay there staring at the ceiling; her hands idly roaming her body. Slowly, her right hand moved lightly up and down her belly. He could see the rise and fall of her chest as she became excited. Her hands crept up to her breasts, gently cupping them as she began to lightly rub. Unable to look away Farrell sat in awe. He moved forward in his seat as she let out a little moan. Her nipples had perked up and she was now playing with the erect nipples rolling them back and forth.
Farrell felt as if his heart was pounding and his breath was deep and heavy. He had an erection. When he looked down he noticed a small wet spot on the front of his robe. He wondered, "What in name of the druids is happening to me?" He was a spirit, although spirits could feel and had bodies they were not able to have physical reactions. This had never happened before. But he wasn't about to complain. It felt good. He hadn't felt this way in years. As he watched his cock twitched and he loosened his robe to give himself a bit more room. He let his left hand make its way inside the robe stoking himself. He could see her lush body outlined by the thin cotton of her nightgown. She was perfection. One of her hands left a breast. It fell across her stomach and slowly slid towards the valley between her thighs. She radiated hunger and need. She shifted, causing her gown to rise and he could see her glistening pussy. Slender fingers traced the wet lips of her pussy. She moved her legs apart gaining better access. Eyes closed tight, she arched her back calling out Farrell's name.
His cock throbbed and he twisted in his chair to find a comfortable spot. He wanted to reach out and run his hands down her lush body, to caress the soft skin of her thighs and lick the salty sweetness of her skin. Her hands were moving faster now. She writhed, moaning his name again and again. "Farrell! Oh God, Farrell!" The urgency of her voice drew him to her. Whatever unearthly constraints that had held him before shattered. To his surprise his form began gaining earthly substance. He dropped his robe to the floor and slid in the bed beside her.
Startled, she opened her eyes and was about to scream. Farrell captured her mouth in a savage kiss. She melted against him, whimpering with need. He broke the kiss. "My God, Farrell is it you?" He chuckled and answered, yes. That it was indeed him. Her eyes roamed every inch of his body, and his beloved face. Gently cupping his face she brought their lips together in a tender kiss.
"How is this possible? I haven't cast my spell yet. Tomorrow is Samhain, the night I can cast my most powerful spells, the night I planned to bring you back to me."
"Ceara, I can't tell you how this happened. All I know is that somehow you pulled me into this world, that your need for me broke my unearthly shackles. The morrow may be Samhain but tonight is Samhain Eve. Tonight the magic of our world begins to mix and the line between our worlds blur. Tonight, magic is just as real as it will be come Samhain."
Giving him a lopsided grin, she pulled him to her. "Well, then we should celebrate this magic." She pressed herself into him, grinding her pussy onto his cock. His hands went to the hem of her gown and he pulled it over her head. It floated to the floor as his hands settled on her naked hips. Catching his right hand she brought it to her breast. He took the hint. Strong hands molded her breast, feeling the weight of it and caressed the soft mound. He brushed her nipple, making it leap to little points in his palms. He teased it, rolling it under his fingers. With a sigh she pressed her breast further into his hands. She kissed him hungrily and moved herself more forcefully against his cock.
Balancing herself, Ceara wrapped her legs around Farrell and slid her arms around his neck. Smooth soft hands moved slowly down his back then traced up his spine, her nails dragging as she went. A moan escaped him. The hand at her breast became more aggressive and he slipped his other hand down between her legs. His fingers glided over red, silken hair and warm wet skin. The tip of one finger traced her lips.
With a gasp, she buried her face against his neck. When he began to worry one ear lobe Ceara moaned. Her hand left his back and wrapped around his fully hard cock. A shiny drop formed at the tip of his rigid cock. She rubbed it up and down, lightly at first then with more pressure. She squeezed him, assaulting his senses and wining another moan from him. Grinning, she bit his shoulders. Aroused, Farrell licked her under her chin and deliberately worked his way down her throat. His hand found her clit. Her head fell back as he circled and massaged her with his finger. Her hands moved faster on his shaft and she thrust against his hands. He kissed her and drove two fingers into her pussy. Digging her nails into his skin, she hissed and gripped his shoulder with her left hand.
"I want you. I want to feel you inside me. Now Farrell. Right now." She groaned. The sweet friction was becoming too much and she needed him.
He raised her hips, sliding her down upon him. They both gasped at the sensation of their joined body. Slender hands held onto him, her nails biting into his shoulders as she ground herself onto him. Ceara rode him expertly, her movements in perfect harmony with his upward thrusts. He moaned, feeling her wall muscles contract around his cock. For a moment he cupped her breasts, playing with them, and then he slid one finger down her belly searching for her engorged clit. He circled it, caressing her clit on every downward stroke she made. She shuddered, falling into his arms. He thrust faster holding her tight against him.
He was lost in feelings. It was incredible to be held inside her. To feel his cock surrounded by the firm grip of her pussy. It was heaven to have her in his arms again. She tightened her legs around him, her body arching as she moved towards climax. "Yes, sweetheart. Come for me," he whispered as he kissed her lips. Her body shook and she screamed with her climax. She threw her arms round his neck, raining kisses as she began to calm down. Farrell held her hips thrusting upwards against her. He shuddered, his hips bucking madly and he came inside her.
In the aftermath, they kissed and curled up together in bed. "Goodnight Love," Ceara murmured before drifting off to sleep. He watched her sleeping and wondered how she meant to bring him back to life. There were spells that could be used that transformed natural matter into other natural substances. He still couldn't understand how such a transformation could help. His body had been burned to ashes. There was no corpse to perform a spell upon, to give back life to. Now, that he could think clearly again he felt anxious. Magic had to be dealt with carefully. The Samhain eve was ending bringing with it Samhain Day...the day when the boundary between the living and the dead would completely disappear. Spirits both good and evil would freely roam this world. If her spell went wrong then there was no telling what may happen. Feeling concerned, Farrell tightened his arms around her. He eventually fell asleep.
When she woke daylight streamed in through the window. Farrell was nowhere to be seen. He had lost his form and was a spirit once more. Ceara vowed she would get him back this night. She had trained for years and had mastered every art of magic her druid master knew. She had become a druid sorceress.
The sound of the heels, of her black leather boots, fell rhythmically as Ceara paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, a book in hand. Occasionally pulling a quill from behind her ear to take notes or pushing her unkempt hair back from falling in her face, she often muttered quietly to herself as she sort out her thoughts. It was near dusk on Samhain Day. She had everything she needed to bring her lover back to life.
Outside a storm had begun. The wind howled and branches rattled against the window. The sky was a dark mask of anger, rain poured down in torrents and lightning flashed. She dropped her book, stumbling into the laboratory table, causing vials of various potions and substances to fall to the floor shattering. Desperate, she reached out to save the vials. She grabbed up the main chalice containing the vials that she needed to perform the spell but she lost her balance. She landed on the floor, her left hand gashed against the cold glass shards of the broken vials.
Ceara screeched, pulling her hand away from the broken glass. A tickle of blood ran down the arms and coated her palms in crimson. A shiver ran down her spine, and she wondered if it could be an omen. "Damnation!" she muttered, "Just when everything was starting to go my way this has to happen."
Minutes later, her hands bandaged, she stood at the center of her study. Anxious, she collected her potions of life around her. She placed her instruments by her hands. She chanted softly, sprinkling a potion around in a circle. At its center she placed a chalice full of ashes. These ashes belonged to Farrell and with them she would fashion a body. Then all she would have to do is infuse the spark of Farrell's spirit into the corpse. She kept repeating to herself that it would be simple, she had it all planned. It had to work. Ceara walked around the circle, sprinkling the contents of each of the vials she had so painstakingly prepared. She chanted her spell.
Her chanting grew louder. "Wind, rain, sun, and moon. Water, fire, wood, and power. Keepers of the magic release your secrets to me. Deep within the center of my being may life's power course free. With the casting of this shadow spell may I wield your mystic power."
Ceara felt a sudden jolt sending power through her. Her eyes closed and she murmured a spell. The language was ancient and lyrical. The long forgotten words held the very power of existence. The droplets of potions around the circle rose like miniature tempests. The ashes in the chalice flew upward. They reached the ceiling colliding, twisting, and mixing together. Then in a waterfall the contents fell back into the chalice. Her eyes shot open; in her mind's eye she saw a scripture detailing the transmutation of a body. On bent knees, she spread out the contents of the chalice. She used her instruments to draw out the body parts. Following the instructions in her mind she wrote out runes in the air.
Thunder rumbled in the skies. The candles lighting the room flickered. For a moment the lights went out. Then slowly the candles flared again. She saw a glimmer of a pale body lying at her feet. She smiled at the sight of her beloved's body. Bending over the lifeless form she placed her left hand over his heart and with the right hand continued to scribe runes. Unnoticed by her a tiny drop of blood leaked out of her bandaged hand falling and polluting the magic circle. She finished with the runes and chanted low. Closing her eyes she moved her right hand from the feet to the top of his head. She opened her eyes. Lifted her left hand from his heart.
Ceara let out the breath she was holding as she watched Farrell's eyes open. Laughing she threw her arms around him. Raining kisses on his face. She held him close and whispered, "Farrell... I did it."
Unseen by her, Farrell's lips curved in a sinister smile. He drew her down, lowering her to the floor and moving over her. She lay there so beautiful, so fragile. Cold hands traced their way down her body making her shiver. He nuzzled her throat. Placed little kisses down her throat, across the slope of a breast and took a nipple into his mouth. She sighed and closed her eyes. He licked and sucked the aureole while kneading her other breast. Caressing her with his lips, he moved lower until he reached her pussy. Pressing his head close to her sex he placed a little kiss. She moaned out loud and combed her fingers through his hair. Farrell licked her clit in a slow rhythm. Long, strong fingers slid between her lips caressing her heat and wetness. Heavy tingling began to radiate through her.
Barely able to control her excitement she pulled him up to her and ran her hands over his warm body. It felt so good to touch him. She nibbled his bottom lips, running her tongue along the seam. He opened his mouth and she snaked in her tongue. As they kissed Ceara felt a chill run through her spine. A sense of malevolence struck her. Something was wrong. Her eyes popped open. She stared into a face devoid of any emotion. Cold eyes stared back at her. The man she was with was not Farrell. She knew that now. This man possessed a different spirit, a dark spirit. She tried to break free but he had hold of her. His maniacal laughter rang as she tried to free herself.
"What have I done? Oh. God. What have a done?" Ceara sobbed. "I...I released... I released a dark spirit into the living world. Oh god. What have I done?"
It was too late; she had lost all her control. He had drained away her powers. As she continued to struggle against him, her vision blurred and her body too began to drain away. Her legs and arms began to fade. Tears streamed down her face. She let out a piercing scream before finally she vanished.