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.
A Wizard's War - 6. Interlude
Simon’s eyes flew open, and he sat bolt upright in bed. He was in his room at the manor and the curtains had been drawn back admitting bright sunlight. The polite butler was standing there with a nervous smile.
“Cuthbert?” Simon asked, “How did I…?”
“I’m sorry to open the curtains, young master,” Cuthbert explained, “You were so sound asleep, almost like the dead! When it reached midday, I thought I should rouse you.”
“Midday?” Simon held his pounding head and squinted against the harsh light.
“Yes, young master,” Cuthbert spoke again before picking up a tray he had set nearby, “I brought you food in case you were hungry.”
“I’m starving,” Simon answered.
“You can say that again,” a deep voice, smooth like silk spoke in Simon’s head. The voice was soothing, but the invasion was an unwelcome feeling.
“What?” Simon asked.
“I did not say anything else, young master,” Cuthbert smiled worriedly as he set the tray before Simon. Freshly baked rolls, sweet fruits, and goat cheese filled the plate and Simon’s stomach rumbled.
“Careful boy, or the old fart will think you’re crazy.”
“Thank you,” Simon managed a meek smile.
“Will there be anything else, sir?” Cuthbert asked.
“Not at the moment,” Simon nodded, “Thank you again, Cuthbert.”
Cuthbert turned and left the room. Simon looked around the room and could not recall how he had returned. The last thing he remembered was such cold, such a freezing presence filling him and hollowing him and then putting him back together.
“Yidian,” Simon whispered.
“We are here together. Two peas in a pod.”
“How is this…? What are you?”
“I’m in your head, boy. You know the answer to that question. You feared Auren’s magic, but your hatred for Bronn was stronger.”
“Then…” Simon hesitated, “I have magic.”
“You had magic from the beginning, if not in the traditional sense. But together we will be more.”
Simon squirmed at the hungry longing that was expressed in Yidian’s voice. There was a starving demon inside of him and he had invited it in. He had been led by Auren Qualls, perhaps lulled into the idea, but it had to be Simon’s choice. Simon made the choice of his own free will to accept the demon, or it would not have worked.
“No take-backsies!” Yidian chuckled.
“Are you going to talk all the time?” Simon wondered.
“Are you going to speak out loud to me all the time?” Yidian retorted, “I don’t mind, but others will think you mad.”
“I think I am mad,” Simon laughed. He then began to eat the food before him. It was so delicious; he would have to thank Cuthbert again. A kindness was probably rare with a master as brutal as Bronn. Men deserved to be free and treated as equal, whatever their station in life.
“Can we flay the skin from his body while he still lives?”
“Cuthbert?” Simon asked horrified.
“No, the big guy. Bronn Hawthorn.”
“I don’t like the man,” Simon answered, “but I’m not sure I have the stomach for such a grisly ordeal.”
“You secretly like him too. I see your dirty little thoughts how you enjoyed him using your hole.”
“I liked the feeling, but…”
“But what? You know you want to worship and suck on Master Bronn’s pole again!”
“Shut up!!!” Simon yelled and he tossed his tray across the room. His face felt hot and turned bright red with embarrassment, shame, and rage. He climbed out of bed and paced furiously around the room.
“I like the feeling of sex,” Simon admitted, “but I didn’t get the choice. The goblins gave me no options and Bronn took advantage of his position of power. He takes away the choices that people have. Just like he did with Ellina, like I have done…”
“I like you when you’re angry,” Yidian spoke smugly.
“I like you when you are quiet,” Simon muttered as he tried to salvage his meal from the floor.
After dressing, Simon sought out the wizard in his study, but much to Simon’s dismay he was not there. Simon skulked around the manor, searching the common areas for Qualls, but still found nothing. Amos approached Simon in the main hall and saw the exasperated look on his face.
“Everything alright?” Amos asked.
“I’m…not sure,” Simon answered with a bit of nervous laughter.
“Hubba hubba, how you’d like to climb that tree?” Yidian snickered internally.
“Still acclimating to your new life, I’m sure,” Amos comforted and placed a hand on Simon’s shoulder.
Simon looked into Amos’ dark brown eyes which were flecked with amber light from the large front windows in the main hall. The sunburst pattern around his pupils was dazzling and so beautiful that Simon did not want to look away. At last Simon broke the gaze, looking down, and laughed nervously again.
“Are you busy?” Amos asked.
“No, I suppose not,” Simon answered almost completely forgetting what he had been doing before.
“Good,” Amos smiled, “I could use some help.”
“Happy to,” Simon nodded, “Feel like I owe you anyway.”
“You don’t owe me a thing,” Amos seemed serious now as he gripped Simon’s shoulder tighter.
“Understood…” Simon responded hesitantly, “but I’m still happy to help.”
“Good. Come with me.”
Amos led Simon outside and they made their way down the small sloping path toward the village. The town was very active on such a bright and beautiful day, and vendors were in the streets crying out in earnest with their various wares. Simon could see fresh construction around the village as the town had begun to rebuild. Displaced families would be longing for a place of their own. Amos trekked decisively across the main square of the village, ignoring the calls of the vendors. They then ducked down an alley between two squat buildings. Clothes lines had been strung between the two structures and they had to weave and stoop as they passed through the narrow thoroughfare.
The alley deposited them in front of a rather large wood cabin, not quite as divine as Hawthorn manor, but clearly owned by a wealthier family in Westwood. The home was tucked into a hill so that the upper levels opened into a beautiful garden in the back. A well-groomed path led from the garden, lazily winding down to meet the street not far from the front doors. Due to the location of the cabin behind other buildings it almost seemed out of place, but the solitude only lent to the charm.
Amos approached the front door and knocked. They didn’t have to wait long, and the door opened. Simon was shocked to see a familiar matronly face.
“Mirva!” Simon exclaimed.
“How good to see you up and about!” Mirva smiled to them both, “Please come in.”
“Who is it, Mirva?” a woman called from within.
“It is Amos and the mayor’s new ward,” Mirva explained. As they stepped inside Simon saw the woman of the house descending the grand wooden staircase that led to the second floor. She was well dressed in a flowing mauve gown that had embroidered white flowers on the hem and a lacy frill at the neckline.
“I’m afraid Gregor is on duty this afternoon,” the woman spoke.
“It’s ok,” Amos answered, “we came to see Mirva.”
“Oh, I see,” the woman chuckled as she at last arrived in front of her guests. She extended a hand in greeting to Simon, “Gretta Hightower.”
Simon gripped her delicate fingertips which had perfectly even and well-manicured nails. He brought his lips to meet the back of her hand.
“Simon Lorall,” Simon flushed, “Pleasure to meet you.”
“Is it?” Yidian asked internally, “I’m fucking bored.”
“Then sit in the back and pout about it,” Simon thought, “but shut up!”
“Sit in the back? You think it is a banquet hall here? I can’t just change seats, I get Simon-vision all the time.”
“Is everything alright?” Gretta was asking.
“Sorry,” Simon laughed as he released her hand, “just spaced out a moment. You have a beautiful home. And the garden is especially lovely.”
“Thank you,” Gretta smiled, “I take pride in my gardening. My mother gifted me with quite the green thumb.”
“I came here a lot as a young boy,” Amos explained, “Gregor and I have been friends for years. After our ordeal, they were kind enough to take in Mirva and give her a job.”
“I am still very grateful for their generosity,” Mirva added.
“We are the ones that have been blessed!” Gretta patted Mirva’s arm, “We have never had a better cook under our roof.”
After a few more pleasantries Gretta took her leave to allow the three survivors of the goblin camp to catch up. Mirva made them tea and recounted her latest kitchen dilemmas, and Simon remarked internally that the elder woman had bounced back from their ordeal quite well. He wished he had the same resilience, but inside he felt quite broken. And to complicate matters, he had invited another inside to rummage around. Simon could sense the impatient itch that was Yidian, desperate for something, hungry for something.
Mirva brought up several stools around the kitchen’s table and they all sat down as she served the tea with biscuits and fresh honey.
“I’m so glad to see you are well,” Simon smiled as he placed a hand over Mirva’s.
“I’m glad to see you out,” Mirva placed her other hand over Simon’s in a reassuring gesture, “You’ve lost so much, poor dear.”
“It has been difficult,” Simon fought off tears, “but we have to keep moving forward.”
“So, what did you need our help with?” Amos asked very businesslike.
“Just some large bags of flour and other heavy items I need moved into the pantry from a cart out the side door. I went to the market and got more than these old arms could lift.”
“That’s all you needed?” Amos puzzled.
“Well,” Mirva smiled wryly, “I admit I wanted to see you, and even better, I got to see you both!”
“We should get to it, Simon.”
“No, please stay and finish your tea!” Mirva pointed to the food, “Have some more biscuits.”
“Don’t mind if I do,” Simon reached out, “I don’t remember the last time I had honey, it is so delicious.”
“I need to feed,” Yidian grumbled inside, “Why do you get to stuff your face all day?”
“You alright?” Amos put a comforting hand on Simon. Simon felt a warmth through his spine and his penis twitched slightly in his trousers. He liked it when Amos touched him, responded to it.
“Yea,” Simon waved a hand, “just a headache or something.”
After the tea and biscuits, Simon helped Amos move the bags into the pantry. Watching Amos heft the heavy bags with his bulging muscles caused Simon to feel more flush and further aroused. He hoped his semi-erect penis was not showing lewdly through his pants and regularly shifted his body to adjust its position. Why now, was he responding so strongly?
When they had finished their work, they bid farewell to Mirva and thanked Gretta for her hospitality. Mirva hugged the two young men and urged them to come visit any time. Simon followed Amos away from the house and back through the alley. They walked in silence until they approached the path up to Hawthorn manor.
“That was kind of you to help her,” Simon spoke.
“The Hightowers helped Mirva,” Amos grunted, “I just arranged the introduction.”
“No, I’m serious,” Simon gripped Amos’ arm and turned him so they were facing each other, “You have a kind heart and I feel like that has been rare lately.”
“I try to help the people I can,” Amos replied with a clenched jaw, “Let’s not make a big deal of it.”
“I feel things for you,” Simon suddenly found himself sliding his hand up Amos’ arm and rubbing the big pectoral muscles through the shirt. He moved closer to Amos and felt his own erection pushing hard now against his trousers. Simon didn’t feel in control and his body was hot.
“What are you doing?” Amos tensed.
“I’m so…hungry,” Simon heard himself saying as he slid up against Amos and then grabbed the large man by the crotch. Amos immediately recoiled and shoved Simon away hard enough that Simon landed on his bottom.
“I don’t want this,” Amos glared down at Simon. Simon felt hurt and stunned. Sure, he felt a strong attraction to Amos, and he cared for the big man, but he didn’t want what just happened either. Yidian felt so smug and full of lust inside him.
“I’m…sorry,” Simon stuttered and hung his head.
“It’s just…” Amos frowned and looked uneasy, “You are betrothed to my sister. It would not be appropriate.”
Simon looked up in shocked wonder. Simon had assumed that Amos was repulsed because he was not attracted to men or that Simon was acting too desperate. But, Amos was withholding because of his loyalty to his sister. Simon got to his feet and looked with renewed intensity into Amos’ dark brown eyes.
“I thought of this earlier. I actually want to call off the marriage,” Simon responded, “It is no longer necessary, and your sister should be free to choose her husband.”
“You’d be a fool not to marry at this point,” Amos shook his head.
“I entered into this contract for all the wrong reasons and experienced nothing but hardship since. I won’t be responsible for stealing your sister’s choices away from her.”
“Don’t you understand why my father made you his ward?” Amos raised his hands exasperatedly, “Your family’s lands go directly to him now as compensation for his ‘charity.’ If you also fail to marry my sister, you could be left with nothing.”
Simon stood in stunned silence for a moment, fuming over the truth that had been staring him in the face this whole time. Bronn was just using and discarding the orphaned young man.
“Aren’t I too old to be considered a ward?” Simon finally realized, “I could easily lay claim to my family’s land since I am of age.”
“Normally that would be true,” Amos responded, “but due to your state upon arrival they drafted documents that allowed for a provisional exception. You had no home, no shelter, no family and signed without hesitation.”
“And in the end, I’ve trapped myself into giving Bronn everything…”
“He’ll take everything too,” Yidian snickered, “That sweet ass and you’ll enjoy it.”
“Shut up,” Simon thought.
“I’m sorry this happened to you,” Amos whispered, “but I can’t help you either.”
Simon felt tears spill from his eyes as he watched Amos walk away up the path.
“Aww, you don’t get to seduce the young buck,” Yidian mocked, “But I’m sure Daddy Hawthorn will give you that nine-inch plow. He’s going to fuck you any way he wants.”
“Shut UP!” Simon shouted into the late afternoon as he stormed up the path toward the manor.
Upon entering the manor, Simon was immediately greeted by a worried looking Suzanne. The mousey servant had been instructed to track down Simon and inform him that Abbot Qualls was looking for him. Simon was eager to get some answers and since he had no solution for his ‘Bronn’ problem, it would have to wait. He made his way up to the quarters where Auren was staying.
“Are you mad, my boy?” Auren lectured as he ushered Simon inside the study, “Your new power will require constant feeding while it is new! You could easily lose control.”
“You failed to give me the instruction manual,” Simon grumbled at the wizard, “and why didn’t you tell me we were summoning a demon? What was that bone item I had inside me?”
“I can see you are angry,” Auren hissed in his calming snake voice, “I will answer all your questions, but first we must feed your power. You will feel better afterward.”
Simon did not want to go, but Auren’s powerful aura allowed Simon to be led to the adjoining bed chamber. Simon was excited to see the hulking soldier from before, Igor, stroking his ‘hammer’ on the bed. Simon and Yidian responded with an intense lust and strong desire to feel that cock inside again.
“This is what I’m talking about,” Yidian filled Simon’s mind with all the lewd things he wanted to do with Igor. Simon was compelled to do them. Simon shared an intense fuck session with Igor that culminated in Igor filling his ass twice with seed and once directly into Simon’s open mouth as he begged for it. Simon could not be sure, since his mind was drunk with lust and urges, but more than once he may have called Igor, ‘Amos’. Simon was shocked to see Igor struggling to stand as he dressed and left the room.
“You will need this at least once a day,” Auren spoke from the corner. He must have been present the whole time, just silently reading a large book.
“Sex?” Simon asked.
“The life force of the seed will feed your power. Igor will need days to recover, so we will rotate men that I can select for you.”
“My power?” Simon scoffed, “You mean the demon.”
“That is one word for them,” Auren agreed dismissively, “Did it give you its name?”
“In the demon realm, names have great power,” Yidian cautioned internally, “I would not entrust this information to anyone if I were you.”
“Suddenly helpful when it concerns you,” Simon thought with much annoyance, “Any suggestions? I’m not well versed in demon nomenclature.”
“Haizoth,” Yidian chuckled, “I bet anything this lying snake pretends to know that old fossil.”
“Haizoth,” Simon answered.
“Oh, a very powerful entity indeed,” Auren nodded knowingly.
“Told you!” Yidian roared with laughter. Simon couldn’t help but smirk a little.
“So, every day I take the seed and feed the demon,” Simon followed, “And what about the magic?”
“Tomorrow,” Auren stood, “the true work begins. I will teach you simple incantations and spell forms over the next several weeks. The more powerful the spell, the more strength Haizoth will require and the more seed you will need to absorb. It may be years before you master truly powerful spells.”
“Very well,” Simon finished getting his clothes back on as he pondered Yidian’s opinion of the wizard.
“Be careful with this one. He lies and he does it very well.”
Auren escorted Simon to the door, but before they parted Simon remembered something, “You didn’t answer my other question.”
“What was that?” Auren asked.
“The bone I was riding. What was that?”
“Summoning magic requires tremendous power. I carved that talisman from the bone of an ancient ice dragon.”
“Wait…did you slay a dragon?”
“No!” Auren chuckled, “Dragons are practically extinct, but their skeletons can still be found.”
“I see,” Simon nodded, “I can’t wait to learn more, tomorrow.”
- 11
- 12
- 4
Be yourself and stay safe out there!
You can also find me on Twitter: @esejag1; Email: 7esejag8@gmail.com
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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