Three Hunters, One Heart

I tugged the book from her grasp, flipped it open, and soon received my answer.

The page depicted a nude woman upon her back in a ritual circle of some kind, surrounded by glyphs, skulls, and glowing candles. Beneath the woman were lines of that strange scratch-like language, along with drawings of bones, birds, and snakes.

"Fascinating," I murmured, flipping to the next page, which showed a similar scene, albeit with two women rather than one. "Very useful for our quest."

"Well did you find anything?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips and giving me a glare.

"Afraid not."

I skimmed through the pages, which depicted other acts of ritualized debauchery: women entangled in amorous lust and brawny men ravishing women within other ritual circles. Entranced by the wicked images and bored by my fruitless searching, I naturally imagined Eselda within a few of those scenes.

"Was this what it was like when that meadow elf placed you upon that altar, hmm?" I asked, showing her a page which depicted a young woman reclining upon an altar made of a dragon's skull, with another woman kneeling between her legs.

"Not quite. Because two other meadow elf women assisted her."

The shock that went through my body was nearly enough to make me drop the damned book.

"Get back to work," she said, laughing and pointing to the expanse of books I hadn't yet searched through.

With a sigh I set the wicked tome back down and wandered back down the rows, sifting through several texts about demonic weapons and infernal runes.

The time dragged on. Eventually I found something promising in the form of a book on the use of demonic body parts for the creation of poisons. Figuring that might be useful in crafting something to help take down the hellraven, I headed back down towards Eselda, only to find her once more leaning against the table, perusing that book with the wicked drawings.

"Really?" I asked, setting the useful book I'd found down beside her.

"I found another book that helped me translate parts of it," she muttered, tapping a small book wrapped in green-stained hide. "After a bit of cross-referencing, I think I finally understand what all these rituals are."

I flipped through the second book she'd found. It was written in the language of the meadow elves: a twirling script made to resemble vines and tree branches. I did not have nearly enough of a grasp of that language to decipher it, though.

Frowning, I glanced over her shoulder to see what she was reading within the thick black book. Upon the pages was a naked young man, his skin adorned with dark red runes. One woman, adorned with similar glyphs, sat atop his face, while another woman rode his cock. Around the figures were black flames and what looked to be the skulls of wolves.

"Turns out it's all about chaining and summoning demons using sexual rituals. Using the energy of sex to empower the binding spells." She looked up, her eyes a bit hazy. "So...quite interesting, but not exactly helpful for our hunt. Hard to tell, though, as the translation is hazy and complete."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Impressive. I didn't take you for a scholar, though."

"I'm not. I just got lucky when I recognized the meadow elf writing."

"Did Ariawyn gift you with the knowledge of their language, too?"

"No, I learned it over the years thanks to our correspondence. We write back and forth, trading salacious tales and stories of our travels.

For a fleeting moment I wondered if I would one day end up in one of those letters.

Adrift on such thoughts and by the imagery within the tome, I reached out and brushed my fingers against the back of her neck. Her skin prickled and we both took in a sharp breath.

"You did say I still owed you for that imbalanced exchange of secrets," I murmured, my fingers drifting down towards the collar of her leather armor. "And we can consider this...research, of a sort, given the book before us."

"Aye," she muttered, her eyes fluttering. "Research."

I almost moaned at the sound of surrender in her voice, at the tension in her neck unleashed by my fingers, and at the way she bit down on her lower lip.

Both of my hands reached around her, unclasping her belt. She murmured something under her breath as I slipped her leather leggings down her toned legs, exposing the simple silken undergarment beneath.

"Just don't finish inside me," she muttered, her breath hitching as my fingers gripped the silk. "I don't have any of the protective herbs or tonics on hand. If we stop at an alchemist-"

"Oh, I wasn't planning on sating my needs just yet," I said in a low growl, leaning down to nuzzle the back of her neck. "This is all about you for now. Correcting that imbalance, remember?"

"Voids," she mumbled.

We both let out a soft sigh as I tugged the silk down her legs, exposing her firm, pale backside. I stepped back for a moment to marvel at the sight, then reached down with both hands, grunting at the feel of the muscles beneath that soft skin.

Once I shoved her leggings all the way down to her ankles, she spread her legs a bit more, granting me a glimpse of her glistening mound, nestled between a patch of dew-soaked hair.

"Wet already. That was fast," I said, my breath warm and hungry against the back of her neck.

"Most of that was from skimming that book..."

Rising to the challenge of that taunt, I chuckled and slipped my fingers between her legs, easily finding the sopping entrance to her sex. Grinning at how wet she was and at her sudden gasp, I used my other hand to gently grip her chin, tilting her head to the side.

Leaning forward, my lips met hers for a slow, tender kiss. Both of us let out trembling moans, though hers was considerably louder on account of the two fingers slipping inside of her. Her fingers scraped against the stone table, her hips bucking back against me.

As the clumsy, breathless kiss continued, my hand drifted lower, skimming over her leather armor and dipping down between her legs. As my other fingers gently thrust into her from behind, I caressed her sex, worked over her folds, and carefully exposed her clit. My insistent touch drew forth a needy sigh.

"Guide me," I muttered. "Tell me what you want and need."

"Awfully lazy of you," she said with a crooked grin, her eyes heavy-lidded. "Don't want to do the work of exploring and learning for yourself?"

"I think it's better to be direct," I said, kissing the back of her neck as I pushed my fingers just a bit more deeply into her. "Open. Honest."

"Then to be honest...what I want is your cock inside me. Fingers are nice but..." She shuddered and arched her back, a few of those dark curls brushing against my face. "The pleasure's better for me if it's mutual. I like sharing the fire, you know?"

"I do," I said, giving her two short thrusts with my fingers before slipping out of her. I glanced down at my dripping fingers and shivered at the sight.

"Just don't finish inside," she reminded me. "If we had any oil on hand, I'd let you use my ass but..." She giggled. "Maybe another time."

She tilted her hips, and I kept teasing her clit while my free hand tugged at my belt.

I gave her pert ass a little slap, as if to 'reward' her for the promise of one day using her other hole. Gods, the things I could do to that woman...

Her hand pushed my fingers from her clit and she took over, firmly rubbing at herself while I freed my cock from my trousers. One hand nestled against the back of her neck, gripping gently, while the other took hold of my stiff, aching prick and guided it to the hole I'd explored with my fingers.

Both of us tensed as the tip slid inside. Our moans rose as one as I hilted myself within her, my other hand gripping her hip, the other tightening against the back of her neck.

I began with slow, careful, and tentative thrusts. While I was certain that she could take quite the brutal pounding, I didn't want to spill too quickly. Given how long it had been since I'd taken a lover, I wanted to relish this, to languish in the sensation of her sex, to bask in her needy little moans.

She glared over her shoulder at me.

"Why are you acting as if I'm some fragile little thing?"

I laughed, then bit down on the back of her shoulder. She growled in response, and the sound shifted to a louder groan as I gave her the treatment she wanted.

Our bodies collided in a frenzy, my hips crashing against her backside again and again. Our groans, growls, and grunts rose to create a frenzied chorus of lust and need.

"You said open, direct, honest, right?" she panted, still looking at me over her shoulder through a veil of sweaty curls.

"Aye," I panted back, clenching my jaw to forestall the rising ache within my prick.

"Then here's a bit of honesty: this is fucking perfect," she hissed through clenched teeth.

"Damned right it is," I growled back, leaning forward to place a wild, clumsy kiss to the side of her cheek.

Her free hand reached down and back, gripping my hip, her nails scraping against my grayish skin.

"Well," a soft voice said to my left. "That's certainly one way to treat a library."

I gasped with shock. Out of the corner of my eye I could just barely make out someone standing in the shadows of one of the great bookshelves.

Though still gripped by an inferno of need, I reached down to pull myself out of Eselda, but she let out a soft whimper and slammed her hips back against mine, the muscles of her arm straining as she worked against her clit. That whimper turned to a breathless, broken groan and she slumped against the table.

Unsure if the interruption had gone unnoticed or it had been just the thing to get Eselda off, I finally managed to slip free of my lover, my cock still wet and achingly hard.

Fumbling with my belt and trousers, I struggled to regain a modicum of decency as I turned to see who had interrupted us.

She was a slender, dark-skinned woman nearly as tall as me, wearing a golden robe with a high collar. Around her neck was a golden chain, from which dangled six glowing runestones. Her thin, petite face cocked to the side as Eselda murmured under her breath and tugged up her leggings. The stranger's light grey eyes turned back to me, her plump lips twitching into a smirk as I finally managed to pull my trousers over my still-hard prick.

Strapped to the stranger's back was a staff topped with what looked to be a jackal's skull. Dozens of little red runes had been etched into the bone.

Clearly, she was a mage of some power, perhaps hunting after arcane secrets within the strange library.

Without a word she stepped forward, tucking her long, dark braids over her shoulder as she approached the table.

"A meadow elf text on the hunting of dark spirits and a tome on demonic binding rituals."

Her slender fingers tapped each text in turn. Panting, Eselda stepped back from the table and buckled her belt.

"Who in the Voids are you?" Eselda murmured, her eyes still glazed, her hair still a mess.

I shivered a little, still caught in the painful throes of that interrupted climax. I'd been just a few damned moments away...

"You two were the ones defiling a sacred library," the mage said, still smirking as she ran her finger over the cover of a book. "So you have not earned the right to be so rude."

Chuckling, she swept past me, her golden robes brushing against my hip.

Baffled, Eselda and I stared at one another for a few moments, before both of us burst into soft, breathless laughter.

"Sorry," Eselda said, grinning at me. "We can, uh, get out of here and I can help you out with that." Her amber eyes drifted down towards my crotch, but I shook my head.

Curiosity, for the moment, kept my lust at bay.

The robed woman perused the shelves for a few moments and collected a book made from the same black material as the ritual text that Eselda had found.

"You can read that?" I asked, even as she brushed past me and moved towards another stone table.

"Yes. It is the language of the old court mages of Arkostead. A cryptic script, used until the revolutions toppled the old kings and forged the Commonwealth. The kings and their mages may have died, but this language lived on."

I glanced back and forth between the text she'd claimed and the one Eselda found.

"What would your price be for a translation?" I asked.

"I am sure in the time it took you two for that tryst you could have found another text to help you translate it," she said, not looking up from her book.

Eselda snickered at that and crossed over, bracing her hands against the table.

"I have a feeling that book you just grabbed has something to do with demons," Eselda said. "You clearly recognized the books we collected, and you certainly don't look like a local. So my wager is that you're here to hunt down that hellraven, just like us."

After several moments of perusing the strange tome, the mage looked up and met Eselda's eyes.

"What is your interest in the beast?"

"The magistrate put a bounty on its head, and the alchemists of Nenhaar are offering a fortune for certain body parts. Selakiir here is after a trophy, to take back to Qal-Tesh."

Her gaze shifted from Eselda to me.

"What sort of trophy?"

If we wanted that strange mage's help, I'd have to be honest.

"The heart," I said.

"I see," she said, looking back down to her book. "Good luck with your quest, then."

"Look, whatever you're after, we can help each other," I said.

"I am also after the heart. Which means our goals are mutually exclusive. We are in, a sense, rivals." Her tone was calm and casual despite the implied threat. "Now go back to your own research or to sating your lusts. I care not. Just stay out of my way."

Gritting my teeth, I took a step forward and braced my hands against the table.

"At least tell us why you're after the heart."

"What sort of answer would sway you?" she asked, giving me a long, cold stare.

Was there any possible answer that could have swayed me? What if the heart was the cure for some magical ailment she suffered? What if it was the means to bring a lost loved one back to life?

Would I still place my own goals above that?

I hated that I did not know the answer to my own questions.

"I need the heart to secure a place for me in Qal-Tesh. But...maybe there's another way for what you want. We can work together, rather than stumble around in the dark."

After a long sigh, she closed the book.

"The heart of the hellraven is a breach," she said. "A rift. A wound. Infernal energy flows through it and into the beast, but in turn energy flows out of our world, and into the demonic Voids. The hellraven's presence here is draining the valley of life. The drought is a direct result."

My mind reeled at that revelation. Grim memories of the past few weeks flashed in my mind: empty villages, desperate farmers, withered fields.

"Oh," Eselda said with a smile. "Then this works out for everyone, doesn't it? We kill the creature, stop it from draining life from the valley. You get to be a big hero for stopping the drought, I get piles of silver for turning in the other body parts, and Selakiir takes the heart home, where I'm sure their magic can neutralize it, and he gets what he wants. Everyone wins."

"That would stop the drought from worsening, yes. But it would not reverse the drought. A certain ritual must be conducted not just to neutralize the heart's power, but to restore the damage it has already inflicted."

I swallowed, my mind racing to find a potential solution. Even though I could find no answer, I knew we'd have an easier time of killing the beast with that nameless mage's help.

There had to be a way where everyone could get what they wanted.

"What if we...killed the beast, claimed its heart, took it to Qal-Tesh, and then you could use it for your ritual to end the drought after I've proven myself to them?"

"You know better than I do that the glades almost never allow in outsiders," the mage said with a wrinkle of her nose. "And I am certain your rulers sent you after this heart for a reason. They will want its power as well, even if they did not tell you the reason." She spread her hands. "Thus, we are at an impasse."

My fingers scraped against the stone table and I turned away, stalking down the rows of books.

My mission had been so simple. The Archon's words echoed once more in my mind.

"Kill the beast. Bring me its heart. Purify your unclean blood."

And now that purification would come at the price of the valley's survival. How many more farms and villages would wither away if the drought persisted? How many people would suffer? How many children would starve?

All of the desperate people I'd witnessed on my journey appeared before me. Sickly children. Withered old villagers. Farmers with desperate gazes, begging for scraps.

Footsteps echoed from behind me. I glared over my shoulder to see Eselda approaching slowly. With a huff I turned back around to glare at the rows of books, and she rested both hands upon my back.

"I know they wanted the heart but surely they'll see the value of you stopping the drought, right? Saving an entire valley has got to be worth something. Especially because the drought might end up hurting the glade one day. Desperate people from the valley might blame the dusk elves for the crisis, or try to breach the glade to escape the drought..."

All of that was true, of course. The crisis of the drought could put Qal-Tesh in danger, even if the rituals empowering the trees still held.

"I've wanted this for so long," I said. "Ever since the dusk elves made clear to me that I was different." My fingers gripped one of the shelves. "And yet I can't..."

I took in several deep breaths even as the Archon's command rippled through my soul.

"Kill the beast. Bring me its heart. Purify your unclean blood."

"I can't live with myself if I just let this valley die. There has to be another way. If what that woman says is true..."

"Which it might not be," Eselda murmured. "We don't even know her damned name yet or her true motives. So if she turns out to be lying about her need for the heart...we'll just beat her bloody and you can still get what you came for."

I let out a soft laugh and turned around.

"All right."

"And sorry for this new dilemma," she said, her hand resting upon my cheek. "And I'm also sorry for the fact that you..." She glanced down and smiled. "Didn't get a chance to finish. We'll rectify that at the first opportunity."

My next laugh, louder than the last, rippled through the library, and I turned to kiss her wrist.

Together we walked back to the strange mage, who continued to flip through the mysterious tome.

"I'll help," I said. "Stopping the drought should still win me the respect and honor I seek. And dusk elves often speak in metaphors and deceptive meanings. So claiming the 'heart' of the hellraven could still include using its heart to stop the drought."

Those cold gray eyes glanced up from her book.

"You could be lying," she said. "You could just say you wish to reverse the drought to secure my aid long enough to kill the hellraven."

"And you could be lying, too," Eselda pointed out. "For all we know, you're not on some noble quest to lift the drought at all. The demon's heart could just be a means of increasing your own power."

"Believe me, self-interest is certainly a factor," the mage said with a sly gleam in her gray eyes. "This valley is one of the few places on the continent where blueglow mushrooms grow: an important reagent in the inscribing of runes." For emphasis she tapped one of the glowing runestones affixed to her necklace. "Ending the drought will make things easier for all mages, myself included."