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    Nephylim
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

City Under the Waves - 4. Chapter 4

At first it was easy. The path opened up before them and it was wide and smooth. Every now and then they were pulled up short by the gentle chiming of a bell. Whenever this happened Gwyon stared deeply into the water. He saw nothing.

 

As they drew closer to the mountain the going got harder. The slope grew steeper and the shoreline became cliffs. They were forced to walk a path that was little more than a strip of earth suspended above the water. It was overgrown and dangerous. They were rapidly losing heart when the path widened again to form a broad plateau at the mouth of a shallow cave. Since the path ended with the plateau and did not continue they assumed that they had reached journey end. Looking around there was not much to see.

 

“Is this it? Is this what you saw?”

 

“No, this is not it at all. It was a deep cave, with an underground lake and a crystal and coloured lights. There must he something else, another cave.”

 

“Well, the path definitely ends here. We can’t go on and we didn’t pass anything on the way up, so this must be it. Maybe there is another cavern deeper in.”

 

The cave was dark and cold. As they moved deeper in, they could see that there was a passage which opened behind a large rock so that it was impossible to see from the entrance. They entered the passage and immediately the walls and the darkness closed in, making them all feel very uncomfortable for their own reasons. Mererid because of claustrophobia; Gwyon because it was a poignant reminder of the entrances to his old home; Celyn because he was becoming more and more enmeshed in the strangeness he had fought for so long against and Marc because he was acutely aware that he was leaving behind the light in far more that just a physical way and walking into the arms of darkness.

 

The passage seemed to have no end. Within moments they were in complete darkness and there was no sign that this would change any time soon. The floor began to slope steeply downwards and the passage developed a nasty habit of snaring the unwary with sharp outcrops, usually at shin or shoulder level. Gwyon, who was in the lead, bore the brunt of these attacks as his huge frame filled the passage and he could hardly miss them, but the others took their fair share when they were too preoccupied or careless to heed his warnings.

 

And then Gwyon stopped and for a few long moments no one could budge him. When at last he became aware of their urging and moved aside they stepped, one by one, into another world.

 

The cave was breathtaking. More than beautiful; more than magical; it was enchanting in the truest sense of the word. They stood in awestruck silence and watched the soft coloured lights slide from the crystal and wander over the glistening walls and black glass waters. There was a movement in the shadow to one side and someone glided into the light.

 

Mererid smiled. The woman was exactly as she remembered. She mirrored her smile and moved towards them, arms spread in welcome; long silver hair lifting like wings behind her. Mererid glanced at Celyn. Funny how she had not noticed the resemblance before.

 

The woman took Mererid’s hands and gazed deeply into her eyes for a long moment before turning to the others in their turn.

 

“Welcome travellers, to the crystal cave. I am Modron; you are welcome to my home in the Hollow Hills. Once I was wife to a king. My daughter has wronged you all and I hope that this is where the healing begins; where the journey to reconciliation can commence. Have no fear. Nothing in this place will harm you. Draw close to the crystal; it is our window to other places; other lives. Who knows what it will reveal to you? Every one of you is bursting with questions. I cannot promise that they will all be answered, only that all the answers are there…if you know where to look... and dare to. Step forward and seek your destiny.”

 

As she was still holding Mererid by the hand, she drew her forward first and placed her hands on the surface of the crystal then stepped back and let the crystal take over. The others watched the expressions dance across her features as, once again, she was taken on a fantastical journey.

 

When she stepped back from the crystal Mererid’s face was alight with enchantment and wonder. Her eyes glowed and she beamed at everyone.

 

“It was wonderful; just like before. I saw everything so clearly, as if it has already been done. I know what to do and I can do it. It is going to be alright Gwyon. I am going to get your harp back.”

 

“I am glad that the crystal was kind to you Mererid. It is not always so. Who else will dare to look for their part in this quest?” She was looking at Marc, luring him forward with her eyes. She did not know why he was so afraid but she could sense his fear as clearly as she could feel his sister’s power and she wanted to reassure him. She was certain that the crystal would ease his mind; it was always gentle with her when she was afraid. Marc was horrified at the thought of touching the crystal again. Over and over in his mind he saw it shatter; felt the pain as its shards cut into him. He recoiled and, instead it was Gwyon who stepped forward and laid his hands on the cool, smooth surface of the pulsing crystal.

 

When his turn had ended Gwyon stepped back, his face set but not unhappy. He knew now in which direction his future lay. It was not what he had hoped for but neither was it what he had feared. It suited him well enough and at least now he knew.

 

Modron turned to Celyn, and spoke gently. “And you, my son…will you look? Will you throw off your anger and accept what you are?”

 

“Anger?”

 

“The answers are here Celyn bach, I could give them to you myself but you will not truly understand until you see. You will never find what you seek until you know what it is you are seeking.”

 

“Then I will look. Let it show me what it will.”

 

Celyn was a long time searching the crystal; far longer than the others. After ten minutes he closed his eyes and tears streamed from beneath the lids, but he did not remove his hands from the glass and he did not step away. After twenty minutes Modron intervened and gently removed his hands herself. He stirred as if waking from sleep and opened his eyes, staring intently at Modron for a long moment then, with a hiccupping sob he threw his arms around her. Smiling gently Modron stroked his hair and murmured to him.


“Be still, my son. Be at peace. We are one. You are home.”

 

Celyn drew back and smiled a tremulous smile.


“Yes, home. At last I have a home. Why have I never realised that home is not a place, never just a place?”

 

“You are wrong, my child, it is a place but the place is within your heart.”

 

Once again her eyes lifted to meet his and they shared memories of many years, many lifetimes; then she moved past him and, catching him unprepared, took Marc’s hands and drew him forward.

 

“No.” he tried to pull away but her eyes, even more than her hands, held him and he could not resist. She continued to hold him until she had placed his hands on the crystal and felt the shock as it made contact with his mind; then she withdrew and left him to his inner vision.

 

It was only when Modron withdrew from his mind that he realised what she had done. He tried desperately to pull away, filled with panic so deep that it was a physical sensation. He could not remove his hands; he was held by a force far stronger than he.

 

At first the crystal was passive, letting the realisation that he was not going to be harmed filter through and for him to grow calm. Then slowly, the colours swirling, seeped into him and, gently at first pictures formed in his mind. At first they were hazy but began to take on a sharper definition; pictures of another place; another time; a hand in his; a feeling of being safe and cherished. He began to relax.

 

And then a laugh rang out; brittle and cold, fracturing the images. The crystal went dark and was suddenly very cold beneath his hands. Looking up he saw another figure emerge from the shadows; a figure that was terrifyingly familiar; the darkness personified. He tried to cry out, to warn the others but he could neither move nor make a sound. The others did not seem to see the woman. He could see them from the corner of his eyes. They were watching him; smiling, passive, unaware, heedless of the danger that had come upon them. But no; he realised very quickly that he was fundamentally mistaken. They were unaware of the danger because there was no danger to them. The darkness had come for him, and him alone.

 

Smiling Aerfen glided forward until she faced him, a few paces away from the crystal and on the other side to the others. She held out her hands to him and, with a strange jerk he found that he was walking towards her; but at the same time his hands were still on the crystal. There was a moment of extreme disorientation before he realised that he had stepped out of himself and, whilst a part of him was still standing with his hands on the crystal another part had broken free and was reaching for the woman who stood before him.

 

He tried as hard as he possibly could to pull away; to stop himself for reaching for her but there was nothing he could do. He was utterly helpless. Aerfen smiled again, a cold feral smile, raw hunger on her face and flames in her eyes.

 

“You have come, as I knew you would. Those fools have brought you to me without even realising what they have done. You will find, in the end, that it is all about you. How could it not be; it was always all about me? And now you are mine; you are helpless in my hands. I see fear in your eyes and you still fight me, even now. There is a fire in you that excites me; it has never burned in me. I have always been so cold. Come to me little one, make me burn.”

 

“No!” Horror gripped him as he realised what she was intending. “No.” but there was nothing he could do. Try as he might he could not prevent his body from moving forwards until he was so close he could smell the perfume of her hair. She reached out to lay a hand on the side of his face. He closed his eyes, every part of him tense and fighting against her control.

 

“You are truly exquisite, so very beautiful. Do you not think that I am beautiful too?”

 

“No.” He managed to shake his head, his teeth clenched. She laughed and leaned forward to kiss him. “Don’t worry; you will.”

 

His breath hissed from him as she drew him into a crushing embrace and he grunted in pain. She laughed again and her kiss intensified. Struggling with the pain and the control, he was rigid in her arms and she sighed. “This will not do.” Drawing back slightly she took his face between her hands and her eyes burned into his. With a cry he tried to pull away but he could not. Where her hands touched him fire burst into his head and seared across his mind. With a sigh his eyes closed and he slipped from her grip to the ground. With a cold smile she lay beside him and the cave melted away.

 

Marc opened his eyes and looked around. He was lying on a bed piled high with exotic cushions. The room was very dark, apparently windowless and he could see nothing beyond the confines of the bed. Lying next to him gazing at him with rapt attention was a beautiful woman with long raven black hair and amber eyes. He could not remember who she was; in fact he could remember nothing at all.

 

“Where am I?”

 

“Right where you should be, my love. Here with me.”

 

“But…” She silenced him with a kiss and her perfume was so strong, spinning his senses away into a spiral of colour and a hot tide of feeling. Struggling with the feeling that something was wrong, something was very, very wrong. She was repulsive: her face, her body revolted him. He tried to pull away from her; to clear his head and think, but she was having none of it. Like a snake her body slid over his and she reared over him, her eyes enormous in the darkness, dominating his vision. Red lips peeled back to show small neat white teeth and she hissed. Somehow the sound entered his head and his vision turned red. The ability to think slipped away and all that remained was the awareness of her.

 

He reached up and pulled her hard to him. The small teeth nipped at his lip and the hot metal taste of blood filled his mouth and awoke a fire in his belly that made him gasp and squirm beneath her. She laughed in his ear, a deep throaty laugh; less brittle and more real that any sound he had yet heard from her. Inflamed he twisted so that she was under him and it was his turn to rise over her.

 

There was a smell of smoke in his nostrils and the taste of blood in his mouth and he growled, possessed of a raw animal instinct that brought for the first time an uncertain fear to her eyes as he pinned her beneath him. She had put his mind beyond his reach but, in doing so she had also put it beyond hers and now his body was in control and it was strong. His strength surprised and alarmed her and she trembled. He grinned, a feral grin and shifted his hips so that the hardness of his manhood pressed against her belly and her fear turned to hunger.

 

Aerfen was no stranger to the bodies of men but this was different to anything she had ever experienced. In a very real way it was almost like making love to herself as he anticipated her every move; her every whim and awoke in her depths of passion that she had never tapped; never imagined existed. She, who lived in a world of coldness; whose heart was frozen, became a hissing, steaming volcano; hungry and desperate and he fed her until she erupted with a force that shocked her to her core and left her stunned and shivering.

 

Staring into his eyes; bright with passion and something else; something that shouldn’t have been there; that was crawling under the blanket she had thrown over his mind; something that was strong and wild and dangerous, she almost lost herself; almost reached the decision to withdraw and leave him alone; to free him from the terrible things she had planned but she had been planning for so long…so long. The story that was unfolding was too strong for either of them to stop it now.


And so, her eyes and her heart filled with a deep and truthful regret, the first truth to have possessed her for a very long time, she pressed him back into the pillows and straddled him. There was a strange look in his eyes, as though he knew; as though he was mourning what could have been or... or as if he was looking beyond her to something... someone else? Angry now she thrust herself onto him; with her body and her mind and with a gasp the look disappeared as his eyes went wide with shock and pain.

 

Fire spread through him from his belly to his brain and he burned. He closed his eyes but the flames flickered behind his eyelids and he could almost believe he could smell burning flesh. The heat seared him and filled him with liquid fire and, as she rode him the pain intensified until it scoured him to his very soul. There was no chance to cry out; no opportunity to beg or plead; he was helpless in the grip of a rising tide of feeling. There was only pain and no passion in the pressure that continued to build until he believed that he would die and didn’t care: wordlessly, soundlessly pleading for it all to end.

 

And then, in a moment that was violation and not release, it was all taken from him…the pain, the passion, the heat, the illusion and he screamed as his body convulsed. The bed beneath him twisted and fell away and she was gone from him. With a sickening jolt he was back in his body with his hands on the crystal; colder that he had ever been, and standing before him was Aerfen, her face alight with a vicious smile.

 

Holding out her hand she showed him a flame which flickered over her palm without burning. It was very beautiful, hypnotic. She held it out to him and bent close to whisper.


“See the pretty fire. This is your life; your soul. You are truly in my hands now, I have possessed you and you are mine. There is no fighting me now. Your future is mine; your destiny for me to shape. Listen well and heed my words for your life depends on it. Go with your friends on their quest. Watch them closely for I will see though your eyes. But do not at any time raise your hand to help them. My task for you is simple. If, by some miracle they should succeed in reaching the crystal tower you must ensure that it is Celyn who touches the door first. That is all. Remember, if you try to help them…” She leaned forwards and he, thinking that she was going to kiss him again recoiled. Smiling she lifted her hand so that the flame danced before his eyes, filling his vision, before very gently and very sensuously she pursed her lips and extinguished it with a breath.

 

“Nooooo.” Part in horror: part in pain he staggered backwards and stumbled, falling to one knee and hugging his chest where his frantically beating heart felt as though it would burst, the crystal shard lodged deep within it stabbing fire with every contraction.

 

Alarmed, Modron dropped to her knees, reaching out to him but when he looked up at her all he saw was Aerfen and he recoiled.

 

“Get back, witch. Don’t touch me. You have my life what more is there for you to take?”

 

There was such pain in his face that she was frozen by it and could do nothing as he hauled himself to his feet and, throwing them all a look that was part challenge and part plea he fled the cave. Mererid moved to follow but Modron stopped her.

 

“Leave him. The crystal is not always kind. What he saw has disturbed him and he needs time to think.”

 

“But he was hurt.”

 

“The crystal is but a window. It shows us what has been, and sometimes what is to be but it has no physical presence to touch us or to hurt us.”

 

“But I saw; we all did. He is in pain.”

 

“It is distress only. Something that he saw has upset him greatly and he is frightened by it. Trust me, he could not have been physically hurt; the crystal does not work that way.”

 

“Alright… I will trust you, but I know that something is wrong: something is terribly wrong. I know it. I feel it.”

 

“It is the magic that you feel. You are not used to its stirrings. Be careful that you do not imbue it with meaning it does not, in truth possess.”

again until it is over. There is little I can do to help you; but what can be done will be done.”

 

“Maybe… maybe...”

 

“Come now. It is time. Your quest begins. We will not meet

“I thought that you would be coming with us.”

“That is impossible. This cave is my prison and I cannot leave it. Don’t worry, I will be watching and my spirit will be with you. When you need me I will be there and when we meet again we will be free.”

 

With a last long look behind they filed out of the cave and were surrounded once more by darkness. They walked in silence, each thinking deeply of what had just occurred; and what was yet to come.

 

 

At first it was easy. The path opened up before them and it was wide and smooth. Every now and then they were pulled up short by the gentle chiming of a bell. Whenever this happened Gwyon stared deeply into the water. He saw nothing.

 

As they drew closer to the mountain the going got harder. The slope grew steeper and the shoreline became cliffs. They were forced to walk a path that was little more than a strip of earth suspended above the water. It was overgrown and dangerous. They were rapidly losing heart when the path widened again to form a broad plateau at the mouth of a shallow cave. Since the path ended with the plateau and did not continue they assumed that they had reached journey end. Looking around there was not much to see.

 

“Is this it? Is this what you saw?”

 

“No, this is not it at all. It was a deep cave, with an underground lake and a crystal and coloured lights. There must he something else, another cave.”

 

“Well, the path definitely ends here. We can’t go on and we didn’t pass anything on the way up, so this must be it. Maybe there is another cavern deeper in.”

 

The cave was dark and cold. As they moved deeper in, they could see that there was a passage which opened behind a large rock so that it was impossible to see from the entrance. They entered the passage and immediately the walls and the darkness closed in, making them all feel very uncomfortable for their own reasons. Mererid because of claustrophobia; Gwyon because it was a poignant reminder of the entrances to his old home; Celyn because he was becoming more and more enmeshed in the strangeness he had fought for so long against and Marc because he was acutely aware that he was leaving behind the light in far more that just a physical way and walking into the arms of darkness.

 

The passage seemed to have no end. Within moments they were in complete darkness and there was no sign that this would change any time soon. The floor began to slope steeply downwards and the passage developed a nasty habit of snaring the unwary with sharp outcrops, usually at shin or shoulder level. Gwyon, who was in the lead, bore the brunt of these attacks as his huge frame filled the passage and he could hardly miss them, but the others took their fair share when they were too preoccupied or careless to heed his warnings.

 

And then Gwyon stopped and for a few long moments no one could budge him. When at last he became aware of their urging and moved aside they stepped, one by one, into another world.

 

The cave was breathtaking. More than beautiful; more than magical; it was enchanting in the truest sense of the word. They stood in awestruck silence and watched the soft coloured lights slide from the crystal and wander over the glistening walls and black glass waters. There was a movement in the shadow to one side and someone glided into the light.

 

Mererid smiled. The woman was exactly as she remembered. She mirrored her smile and moved towards them, arms spread in welcome; long silver hair lifting like wings behind her. Mererid glanced at Celyn. Funny how she had not noticed the resemblance before.

 

The woman took Mererid’s hands and gazed deeply into her eyes for a long moment before turning to the others in their turn.

 

“Welcome travellers, to the crystal cave. I am Modron; you are welcome to my home in the Hollow Hills. Once I was wife to a king. My daughter has wronged you all and I hope that this is where the healing begins; where the journey to reconciliation can commence. Have no fear. Nothing in this place will harm you. Draw close to the crystal; it is our window to other places; other lives. Who knows what it will reveal to you? Every one of you is bursting with questions. I cannot promise that they will all be answered, only that all the answers are there…if you know where to look... and dare to. Step forward and seek your destiny.”

 

As she was still holding Mererid by the hand, she drew her forward first and placed her hands on the surface of the crystal then stepped back and let the crystal take over. The others watched the expressions dance across her features as, once again, she was taken on a fantastical journey.

 

When she stepped back from the crystal Mererid’s face was alight with enchantment and wonder. Her eyes glowed and she beamed at everyone.

 

“It was wonderful; just like before. I saw everything so clearly, as if it has already been done. I know what to do and I can do it. It is going to be alright Gwyon. I am going to get your harp back.”

 

“I am glad that the crystal was kind to you Mererid. It is not always so. Who else will dare to look for their part in this quest?” She was looking at Marc, luring him forward with her eyes. She did not know why he was so afraid but she could sense his fear as clearly as she could feel his sister’s power and she wanted to reassure him. She was certain that the crystal would ease his mind; it was always gentle with her when she was afraid. Marc was horrified at the thought of touching the crystal again. Over and over in his mind he saw it shatter; felt the pain as its shards cut into him. He recoiled and, instead it was Gwyon who stepped forward and laid his hands on the cool, smooth surface of the pulsing crystal.

 

When his turn had ended Gwyon stepped back, his face set but not unhappy. He knew now in which direction his future lay. It was not what he had hoped for but neither was it what he had feared. It suited him well enough and at least now he knew.

 

Modron turned to Celyn, and spoke gently. “And you, my son…will you look? Will you throw off your anger and accept what you are?”

 

“Anger?”

 

“The answers are here Celyn bach, I could give them to you myself but you will not truly understand until you see. You will never find what you seek until you know what it is you are seeking.”

 

“Then I will look. Let it show me what it will.”

 

Celyn was a long time searching the crystal; far longer than the others. After ten minutes he closed his eyes and tears streamed from beneath the lids, but he did not remove his hands from the glass and he did not step away. After twenty minutes Modron intervened and gently removed his hands herself. He stirred as if waking from sleep and opened his eyes, staring intently at Modron for a long moment then, with a hiccupping sob he threw his arms around her. Smiling gently Modron stroked his hair and murmured to him.


“Be still, my son. Be at peace. We are one. You are home.”

 

Celyn drew back and smiled a tremulous smile.


“Yes, home. At last I have a home. Why have I never realised that home is not a place, never just a place?”

 

“You are wrong, my child, it is a place but the place is within your heart.”

 

Once again her eyes lifted to meet his and they shared memories of many years, many lifetimes; then she moved past him and, catching him unprepared, took Marc’s hands and drew him forward.

 

“No.” he tried to pull away but her eyes, even more than her hands, held him and he could not resist. She continued to hold him until she had placed his hands on the crystal and felt the shock as it made contact with his mind; then she withdrew and left him to his inner vision.

 

It was only when Modron withdrew from his mind that he realised what she had done. He tried desperately to pull away, filled with panic so deep that it was a physical sensation. He could not remove his hands; he was held by a force far stronger than he.

 

At first the crystal was passive, letting the realisation that he was not going to be harmed filter through and for him to grow calm. Then slowly, the colours swirling, seeped into him and, gently at first pictures formed in his mind. At first they were hazy but began to take on a sharper definition; pictures of another place; another time; a hand in his; a feeling of being safe and cherished. He began to relax.

 

And then a laugh rang out; brittle and cold, fracturing the images. The crystal went dark and was suddenly very cold beneath his hands. Looking up he saw another figure emerge from the shadows; a figure that was terrifyingly familiar; the darkness personified. He tried to cry out, to warn the others but he could neither move nor make a sound. The others did not seem to see the woman. He could see them from the corner of his eyes. They were watching him; smiling, passive, unaware, heedless of the danger that had come upon them. But no; he realised very quickly that he was fundamentally mistaken. They were unaware of the danger because there was no danger to them. The darkness had come for him, and him alone.

 

Smiling Aerfen glided forward until she faced him, a few paces away from the crystal and on the other side to the others. She held out her hands to him and, with a strange jerk he found that he was walking towards her; but at the same time his hands were still on the crystal. There was a moment of extreme disorientation before he realised that he had stepped out of himself and, whilst a part of him was still standing with his hands on the crystal another part had broken free and was reaching for the woman who stood before him.

 

He tried as hard as he possibly could to pull away; to stop himself for reaching for her but there was nothing he could do. He was utterly helpless. Aerfen smiled again, a cold feral smile, raw hunger on her face and flames in her eyes.

 

“You have come, as I knew you would. Those fools have brought you to me without even realising what they have done. You will find, in the end, that it is all about you. How could it not be; it was always all about me? And now you are mine; you are helpless in my hands. I see fear in your eyes and you still fight me, even now. There is a fire in you that excites me; it has never burned in me. I have always been so cold. Come to me little one, make me burn.”

 

“No!” Horror gripped him as he realised what she was intending. “No.” but there was nothing he could do. Try as he might he could not prevent his body from moving forwards until he was so close he could smell the perfume of her hair. She reached out to lay a hand on the side of his face. He closed his eyes, every part of him tense and fighting against her control.

 

“You are truly exquisite, so very beautiful. Do you not think that I am beautiful too?”

 

“No.” He managed to shake his head, his teeth clenched. She laughed and leaned forward to kiss him. “Don’t worry; you will.”

 

His breath hissed from him as she drew him into a crushing embrace and he grunted in pain. She laughed again and her kiss intensified. Struggling with the pain and the control, he was rigid in her arms and she sighed. “This will not do.” Drawing back slightly she took his face between her hands and her eyes burned into his. With a cry he tried to pull away but he could not. Where her hands touched him fire burst into his head and seared across his mind. With a sigh his eyes closed and he slipped from her grip to the ground. With a cold smile she lay beside him and the cave melted away.

 

Marc opened his eyes and looked around. He was lying on a bed piled high with exotic cushions. The room was very dark, apparently windowless and he could see nothing beyond the confines of the bed. Lying next to him gazing at him with rapt attention was a beautiful woman with long raven black hair and amber eyes. He could not remember who she was; in fact he could remember nothing at all.

 

“Where am I?”

 

“Right where you should be, my love. Here with me.”

 

“But…” She silenced him with a kiss and her perfume was so strong, spinning his senses away into a spiral of colour and a hot tide of feeling. Struggling with the feeling that something was wrong, something was very, very wrong. She was repulsive: her face, her body revolted him. He tried to pull away from her; to clear his head and think, but she was having none of it. Like a snake her body slid over his and she reared over him, her eyes enormous in the darkness, dominating his vision. Red lips peeled back to show small neat white teeth and she hissed. Somehow the sound entered his head and his vision turned red. The ability to think slipped away and all that remained was the awareness of her.

 

He reached up and pulled her hard to him. The small teeth nipped at his lip and the hot metal taste of blood filled his mouth and awoke a fire in his belly that made him gasp and squirm beneath her. She laughed in his ear, a deep throaty laugh; less brittle and more real that any sound he had yet heard from her. Inflamed he twisted so that she was under him and it was his turn to rise over her.

 

There was a smell of smoke in his nostrils and the taste of blood in his mouth and he growled, possessed of a raw animal instinct that brought for the first time an uncertain fear to her eyes as he pinned her beneath him. She had put his mind beyond his reach but, in doing so she had also put it beyond hers and now his body was in control and it was strong. His strength surprised and alarmed her and she trembled. He grinned, a feral grin and shifted his hips so that the hardness of his manhood pressed against her belly and her fear turned to hunger.

 

Aerfen was no stranger to the bodies of men but this was different to anything she had ever experienced. In a very real way it was almost like making love to herself as he anticipated her every move; her every whim and awoke in her depths of passion that she had never tapped; never imagined existed. She, who lived in a world of coldness; whose heart was frozen, became a hissing, steaming volcano; hungry and desperate and he fed her until she erupted with a force that shocked her to her core and left her stunned and shivering.

 

Staring into his eyes; bright with passion and something else; something that shouldn’t have been there; that was crawling under the blanket she had thrown over his mind; something that was strong and wild and dangerous, she almost lost herself; almost reached the decision to withdraw and leave him alone; to free him from the terrible things she had planned but she had been planning for so long…so long. The story that was unfolding was too strong for either of them to stop it now.


And so, her eyes and her heart filled with a deep and truthful regret, the first truth to have possessed her for a very long time, she pressed him back into the pillows and straddled him. There was a strange look in his eyes, as though he knew; as though he was mourning what could have been or... or as if he was looking beyond her to something... someone else? Angry now she thrust herself onto him; with her body and her mind and with a gasp the look disappeared as his eyes went wide with shock and pain.

 

Fire spread through him from his belly to his brain and he burned. He closed his eyes but the flames flickered behind his eyelids and he could almost believe he could smell burning flesh. The heat seared him and filled him with liquid fire and, as she rode him the pain intensified until it scoured him to his very soul. There was no chance to cry out; no opportunity to beg or plead; he was helpless in the grip of a rising tide of feeling. There was only pain and no passion in the pressure that continued to build until he believed that he would die and didn’t care: wordlessly, soundlessly pleading for it all to end.

 

And then, in a moment that was violation and not release, it was all taken from him…the pain, the passion, the heat, the illusion and he screamed as his body convulsed. The bed beneath him twisted and fell away and she was gone from him. With a sickening jolt he was back in his body with his hands on the crystal; colder that he had ever been, and standing before him was Aerfen, her face alight with a vicious smile.

 

Holding out her hand she showed him a flame which flickered over her palm without burning. It was very beautiful, hypnotic. She held it out to him and bent close to whisper.


“See the pretty fire. This is your life; your soul. You are truly in my hands now, I have possessed you and you are mine. There is no fighting me now. Your future is mine; your destiny for me to shape. Listen well and heed my words for your life depends on it. Go with your friends on their quest. Watch them closely for I will see though your eyes. But do not at any time raise your hand to help them. My task for you is simple. If, by some miracle they should succeed in reaching the crystal tower you must ensure that it is Celyn who touches the door first. That is all. Remember, if you try to help them…” She leaned forwards and he, thinking that she was going to kiss him again recoiled. Smiling she lifted her hand so that the flame danced before his eyes, filling his vision, before very gently and very sensuously she pursed her lips and extinguished it with a breath.

 

“Nooooo.” Part in horror: part in pain he staggered backwards and stumbled, falling to one knee and hugging his chest where his frantically beating heart felt as though it would burst, the crystal shard lodged deep within it stabbing fire with every contraction.

 

Alarmed, Modron dropped to her knees, reaching out to him but when he looked up at her all he saw was Aerfen and he recoiled.

 

“Get back, witch. Don’t touch me. You have my life what more is there for you to take?”

 

There was such pain in his face that she was frozen by it and could do nothing as he hauled himself to his feet and, throwing them all a look that was part challenge and part plea he fled the cave. Mererid moved to follow but Modron stopped her.

 

“Leave him. The crystal is not always kind. What he saw has disturbed him and he needs time to think.”

 

“But he was hurt.”

 

“The crystal is but a window. It shows us what has been, and sometimes what is to be but it has no physical presence to touch us or to hurt us.”

 

“But I saw; we all did. He is in pain.”

 

“It is distress only. Something that he saw has upset him greatly and he is frightened by it. Trust me, he could not have been physically hurt; the crystal does not work that way.”

 

“Alright… I will trust you, but I know that something is wrong: something is terribly wrong. I know it. I feel it.”

 

“It is the magic that you feel. You are not used to its stirrings. Be careful that you do not imbue it with meaning it does not, in truth possess.”

again until it is over. There is little I can do to help you; but what can be done will be done.”

 

“Maybe… maybe...”

 

“Come now. It is time. Your quest begins. We will not meet

“I thought that you would be coming with us.”

“That is impossible. This cave is my prison and I cannot leave it. Don’t worry, I will be watching and my spirit will be with you. When you need me I will be there and when we meet again we will be free.”

 

With a last long look behind they filed out of the cave and were surrounded once more by darkness. They walked in silence, each thinking deeply of what had just occurred; and what was yet to come.

Copyright © 2012 Nephylim; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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