Book of Venoms - 9. Scourge

“The Fever is a most vicious disease that naturally occurs only among the Lykos - shifters with the ability to turn into wolves. It is still unclear what causes this horrific affliction.

Once affected, the Lykos can no longer change back into their human form, remaining trapped in their animal bodies for the rest of their short life. The disease gradually makes them weaker and unpredictable, until they finally succumb to it.

Any Lykos with the Fever should be avoided, as its bite is venomous, spreading the fatal disease to the victim. Humans, being much weaker by nature, stand even less of a chance against it. Following an incubation period of a few days, the affected human turns into a Lykos and quickly becomes deranged and violent, lashing out at anyone who comes too close. This stage can last from several weeks to months, when the victim finally dies.

Despite all the experiments and studies carried out so far, there is still no known cure for this illness. Unless, perhaps...

--

It was early dawn when Ercil woke up, stretching on the simple rags he and Magana were sleeping on. After days of traveling with the tribe, crossing the vast barren lands in search of the oasis, it felt nice to finally be able to rest and have a moment with his woman. Their passionate night left him invigorated and ready to tackle his most important mission - overthrowing his father. It would be difficult and dangerous, but it was something he had to do if he was to ensure a future for himself and Magana.

However, as he stretched out his arm hoping to hug his wife-to-be, Ercil noticed he was alone. Opening his eyes, he confirmed that she wasn’t next to him. How odd of her to get up that early, he thought. He was always the early riser, while she preferred to sleep in.

When they lived at the previous Mataki settlement on the other side of the Ragged Mountain, Ercil would always rise before dawn, practicing his combat skills. He loved training sword and javelin fighting, it was in his blood. He and his brother would often train together, but now that the younger boy was gone, Ercil had to hone his skills against other tribe members. Perhaps they were better fighters, but it wasn’t the same with them as with his brother. Who knew he’d turn out to be a coward and abandon his tribe. His family.

It was now a month since his brother fled. Vanished into the night. Ercil remembered waking up that morning to find his mother in tears and his father quiet and brooding. The chieftain was angry that his own flesh and blood had left the tribe. Ercil was sure Kotho would have taken it better if his son was killed before his eyes, but this - desertion - was unacceptable.

Ercil understood why his brother left, but he wished the younger man had told him what he was planning to do. Instead, he left without a goodbye, which was something Ercil wasn’t sure he could forgive. However, he still thought about him every day.

Putting on his light pants and shoes, the young man got out of the tent and covered his eyes with his hand, momentarily blinded by the morning sun. He looked around, but his girl was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she went to get some water, he concluded.

“Morning, Toko, have you seen Magana?” he asked one of the fellow tribesmen who walked by.

The man reluctantly stopped, looking uneasy.

“Uh, no, I haven’t-”

At that moment, piercing cries came from the other side of the oasis, startling everyone who happened to be nearby. Ercil froze as he recognized the voice. Rushing back to his tent, he picked up his sabre and ran back outside, following the voice that kept crying out every few seconds.

“Magana, no!” he yelled as he pushed past the people that were in his way, speeding to get to her as fast as he could. He was seeing red, prepared to kill anyone who dared to hurt her.

Father! He must have found out about our plan! Then we are doomed, but I cannot let her take the fall alone, he thought as he ran, approaching the scene.

Magana was tied to a palm tree, wearing nothing but a long, thin tunic on her slim frame. She was facing the tree, leaving her back exposed. Behind her, general Atepa stood with a whip in his hand, lashing the poor girl across the back. Her tunic was already ripped to shreds, with several large marks visible across her back.

Kotho and his wife Letha stood nearby, along with most of the tribe, observing the punishment. Further in the distance, the tribe shaman, Vaunga, sat in the shade. She was looking in the bones that she threw on the sand in front of her, trying to divine the future, only occasionally glancing around to observe what was happening.

Crack!

The general whipped Magana again, causing her to let out another scream.

“Let her go!” Ercil yelled, seeing his beloved in pain.

As he ran toward the crowd that gathered, two tribe warriors rushed over and toppled him to the ground, knocking the sabre from his hand.

“Ercil!” the girl screamed as the whip connected to her skin in a violent motion once more.

“Magana!” the young man called out, his eyes welling up. “Let her go, I’m the one to blame! Punish me!” he shouted, looking at his father with hatred.

“I know you are,” Kotho nodded. “This is how I’m punishing you!”

The chieftain stood like a mountain, observing everything with a frown on his face. He did not enjoy torturing the girl, but it was something that had to be done.

Next to him, his wife stood with pain written across her face, watching her son in such a miserable state. The things she would do to make it better, but she was powerless.

Crack!

Another scream ensued. Ercil turned to his mother with tears in his eyes and she looked at him sympathetically, cursing herself for not being able to help.

“Enough,” chieftain Kotho finally ordered, raising his massive arm. General Atepa nodded, stepping away from the girl and putting the whip away.

“Untie the girl and take her to the shaman. She’ll tend to her wounds,” Kotho ordered, returning to his tent.

While two of the men took care of Magana, the warriors who held Ercil brought him before his father.

“Leave us,” Kotho ordered and the men left the tent, leaving him alone with Letha and Ercil. “Conspiring against your own father! One son turned out to be a coward, and the other a traitor,” the chieftain added morosely, looking at his son with contempt. “As much as the Gods have blessed me with power and strength, they seemed to have cursed me with feeble, dishonorable children.”

“I am not weak or a coward! Perhaps my brother was, but not me,” Ercil spoke, staring at his father defiantly. “I did what I did because of you! You keep leading this tribe into conflict, never caring how many of us die! Who’s to say mother or I would not be next?”

“And what if you are?! You’d have died honorably in battle for this tribe!” Kotho’s voice thundered, alarming the people outside.

“Would you do the same?” his son asked.

“Of course. Even if it meant leaving the tribe in the hands of another. And it would certainly not be you.”

“And that’s just what will happen if we go up against Macarius! How can we even think of winning against such a powerful sorcerer? He will decimate us until none of us are left.”

“You have little faith in our tribe, I see,” the chieftain shook his head.

“What happens with me and Magana now?” Ercil asked, glancing between his father and mother. Letha watched him with love and sympathy. She was strong, but her children were her weak spot. And now, it seems that she has failed them both.

“You better thank your mother, she’s the only reason you and your woman are still alive. But make no mistake - betray me again and your head will be on a pike… And I will be the one to put it there,” Kotho said, calling the two warriors who waited outside. “Get him out of my sight! Take him to Vaunga, she should be with Magana, tending to her wounds. Perhaps she can put some sense into him.”

Ercil was furious at the way his father spoke of Magana’s injuries, as if he wasn’t the one who caused them. Still, he dared not defy him at that moment. Instead, he let the two men take him to the tent where the Mataki shaman treated his wife-to-be.

Even though the tribe had been in the oasis merely a few days, Vaunga has already marked the tent as her own territory. Bones of various critters were lying scattered in one corner, while dried herbs were spread out in another. Three terrifying tribal masks she used for various rituals were displayed next to a pile of rags she called a bed, which was now occupied by Magana, lying on her stomach.

As soon as he entered the tent, Ercil’s eyes fell upon his beloved. Her back was exposed, while Vaunga rubbed some sort of cream on her wounds.

“My love,” the young man cried out, kneeling beside Magana and kissing her. “I am so sorry! This should’ve been me! It’s all my fault.”

“Ercil, don’t say that,” the girl pleaded, her eyes still wet with tears. “I knew what I was doing when I supported you. How could I not, you are my everything! I don’t regret it, not one bit.”

“But I do. I should’ve taken better care of you.”

“Listen to me, I am to be your wife, not your daughter. You don’t need to take care of me,” Magana reproached him. “You just need to love me.”

“That I do. You know I do, more and more with each day,” he replied, taking her hand and placing a soft kiss on her palm.

“And I love you,” the girl cooed, finding some comfort in Ercil’s loving words and gestures.

“My father… He will pay for this, I swear,” Ercil gently stroked her long, black hair. “For all the suffering he has caused you, he will suffer tenfold!”

“You are very vengeful, young one,” the shaman, who had been quiet all this time, finally spoke. “May I ask why?”

Vaunga was among the oldest people in the Mataki tribe, having seen dozens of chieftains come and go. All that time, she was the main shaman and each of the chieftains respected her for it. Her unusually dark skin was creased with innumerable wrinkles, while her white hair was tied in a messy bun. Her neck, ears and arms were adorned with dozens of pieces of jewelry, mostly made out of bronze, leather and bone. The tribe was her only family, as her husband and two children had died years ago.

“My father is leading this tribe into ruin. His unquenching thirst for conquest will be our doom. Tell me, shaman, do you think it is a good idea for us to go against Macarius? My father seems to think so, but what can we do against that sorcerer?” Ercil asked.

“He is indeed said to have immense powers.”

“Then speak to my father! He respects you, perhaps he will listen,” the young man pleaded.

“Do not underestimate the power of the Mataki,” Vaunga advised. “Your father has his reasons, and he has proven to be a sound leader.”

“A sound leader? He led us into this barren desert, yet he speaks of some riches! What good is any treasure if we are dead before we can enjoy it?”

“It is no accident that the chieftain has brought us to Desoloth ta’Pah. Do you know what that name means in the forgotten language of Escaria?” Vaunga asked, knowing the answer in advance.

Ercil and Magana shook their heads. Back when the entire continent was one country, everyone had spoken the same language, granted to them by Gods themselves. However, that was before all the divisions and tribe wars took place. No one has spoken High Escarian in centuries and only a few people were still familiar with it.

“It means the Diamond Dunes,” the shaman answered. “Legend has it that beneath all the sand and rock lie vast reserves of diamonds, left untouched for ages. Macarius is now the only obstacle to that wealth.”

~~

The afternoon sun was slowly drifting across the sky, making the heat unbearable. Tired and sweaty, Castor and Sawyer slowly advanced on their horses. As they were nearing the desert, the vegetation was getting more sparse, while temperatures were rising. Forests and grasslands were replaced by rocky wastes and just the occasional bush, resilient enough to withstand the heat and lack of water.

The boys didn’t want to stop until they absolutely had to, wanting to find Cyr as quickly as possible. However, both of them, as well as their animals, were getting exhausted and just had to take a break.

Looking around, Castor tried to locate a good spot for them to dismount and take a rest, but everything looked the same as far as the eye could see.

“Whoever would choose to live here?” he wondered out loud.

“Not me, I can tell you that much,” Sawyer shook his head in amusement. He was still in somewhat high spirits despite his tiredness. “When I was twelve, dad took me to one of his trading routes that passed by the desert. I was an annoying little shit the whole way, I’m surprised he didn’t sell me too!”

“Was is that uncomfortable?” Castor was curious.

“You have no idea! We were in a caravan with several carriages, but since we carried so many wares for sale, we had to move very slowly. I swear, we would’ve gotten there faster on foot! And not to mention the heat! I drank so much water when we finally got to our destination, I’m surprised I didn’t turn into a mer-shifter,” the young sorcerer finished, drawing a chuckle out of his boyfriend.

Veering off the dirt road, the two boys dismounted their horses near a relatively large patch of grass so that the animals would have something to eat while they rest.

“This looks like a nice spot to set up camp,” Sawyer suggested, looking around. There were some bushes nearby, but almost no other wildlife. A rare lizard ran through the grass here and there, probably hunting for bugs.

“Shame there’s no shade anywhere, really,” Castor lamented. Even though the sun didn’t bother him that much due to his dark skin, he wished they could lay in the shade and maybe take a nap for a short while. “I guess we should set up a tent, that will protect us from the sun.”

While the animals grazed, the two boys took out the camping equipment from their bags and pitched the tent, large enough for both of them.

“There, that should have to do it for now,” the shifter said, observing their little shelter.

“Hmm, maybe I could do something,” Sawyer mused, taking his wand. He was itching to cast a spell or two and test his powers some more. Who knows what he was capable of now?

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, maybe I can make some natural shade since I have nature powers now,” Sawyer shrugged.

Deciding to give it a shot, he held his magic wand firmly and pointed it at the ground near the tent. Focusing all of his attention on one spot, he was surprised when a few moments later, a tiny seedling sprouted from the dry ground and started growing rapidly.

Standing nearby, Castor gasped as he observed the plant developing into a large sycamore tree before their eyes. Barely a minute later, they were standing beneath a fully-grown tree that must’ve been at least a hundred feet tall. Its wide canopy provided much needed shelter from the sun and heat.

“Wow,” was all Castor could say, looking up above him at the giant sycamore.

“Pretty awesome, right?” Sawyer smiled proudly at his work.

“I admit, it’s very awesome, baby,” the dark-skinned boy wrapped an arm around his boyfriend’s waist and kissed his cheek.

After tying their horses to the tree, the boys sat down to eat and refresh themselves with some water - again with a little help of Sawyer’s magic. Even though the meal was very simple - bread, cow cheese and sausages - both of them were starving, so they enjoyed it as if they were attending a big royal feast with Omoruo II, the King of Thar.

Sated and refreshed, the two boys entered their tent and lay down next to each other, hoping to get some rest. However, the closeness soon got the better of them and it wasn’t long before Sawyer, aroused by Castor’s warm breath on his neck, put his arm around the other boy’s waist and scooted even closer.

They were now face to face, looking into each other’s eyes. Anticipation was heavy in the air, making them more aroused than they’ve been in weeks.

“Castor…” Sawyer whispered, slowly moving his hand across the other boy’s stomach.

“I missed this,” Castor replied.

As he felt his boyfriend’s warm hand going under his shirt and touching his skin, the shifter gasped and held his breath, feeling a pleasant, tingling sensation coursing through him. He let go and closed his eyes, bringing his lips closer to Sawyer’s.

The kiss was gentle and delicate, with both boys going slow, enjoying the other’s soft lips. It wasn’t long before Castor started moaning as Sawyer’s hand found its way to his nipple and started gently squeezing it.

They reluctantly broke the kiss and looked into each other’s eyes. Without a word, they knew what they wanted to do next. One by one, pieces of clothing were removed and cast aside to the pleasure of both boys. With a smile, Castor looked at his boyfriend’s naked body and his already fully hard member. He reached down and took it in his hand, eliciting a gasp from the young sorcerer. Peppering him with kisses all over his body, Castor slowly moved down until he reached Sawyer’s hard cock. He looked at it briefly, admiring it as if it was a priceless gem, before putting it in his mouth.

“Uhh that feels so good,” Sawyer moaned, gently grabbing Castor by the head, pushing him downward until his entire length was in his boyfriend’s mouth.

Castor’s warm tongue swirled all around it, licking and covering it in spit. Sawyer was in heaven! His boyfriend always knew how to give him the greatest pleasure and hit all of his magical spots. Seems like he is as much of a sorcerer as I am, Sawyer realized, smiling.

As Castor sucked on his throbbing erection, the young sorcerer lifted himself up and reached out with his hand, stroking his boyfriend’s hard member. Instantly, Castor started moaning with pleasure.

“Oh, keep doing that,” he whispered, pausing just long enough to utter those words before continuing to orally satisfy his beloved.

Feeling more aroused by the second, Sawyer stroked his boyfriend’s cock for a little longer, until he slowly moved his hand down and brought it to the other boy’s tight opening. With one slick finger, he probed it, immediately feeling Castor’s muscles contracting around it. The dark-skinned boy’s moans got louder that same instant - he loved it when his boyfriend was inside him. Sawyer knew Castor wouldn’t hold on much longer, so he put another finger in, stretching the boy’s hole.

“Please, Sawyer,” the shifter moaned, moving so that he was on all fours.

“Here we go, my love,” Sawyer replied softly, positioning his cock at Castor’s hole. With only their spit as lubricant, the sorcerer started entering his boyfriend slowly. Even if it hurt, the boy didn’t complain, except let out moans that got louder the more Sawyer pushed in.

Moving his hips, Sawyer started delivering slow strokes that gradually became harder and faster, allowing Castor time to get used to the intrusion. The other boy seemed to like the faster pace, pushing back his body to meet Sawyer’s thrusts.

Sweaty and hot from being in the small tent, the boys moaned and whispered words of love as they kept going at a fast and steady pace. Sawyer knew he wouldn’t be able to last long, and Castor realized the same - they were just too aroused.

“I’m close, Cas,” the sorcerer panted as he started picking up speed. Slamming into Castor a few more times, he filled him with his hot seed. The shifter, who was furiously stroking his own cock, shot a load just moments later.

High on their post-orgasmic bliss, the two boys laid next to each other and kissed, giggling like small children.

“You were brilliant as always,” Castor whispered, stroking Sawyer’s chest.

“I guess some things never change,” the sorcerer grinned as he wrapped an arm around his boyfriend’s waist.

The two boys closed their eyes and it wasn’t long before they fell asleep, exhausted from all the activities of the day.

Without even realizing it, Castor shifted into his animal form during his sleep and coiled right next to his boyfriend. When Sawyer woke up a while later, he gasped upon seeing a large, black snake next to him. However, the shock only lasted for a moment. Accepting that his boyfriend wouldn’t harm him, the sorcerer closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep once again.

Thank you all for reading! In the next chapter, we will learn more about Macarius's son.