A Wizard's War - 7. Power

The room felt like it was spinning and he was drifting on an ocean of sheer bliss. Simon bounced up and down, his ass slapping wetly against the man beneath him. Yidian was already feasting greedily on the four loads Simon had taken from three different soldiers and Simon was working for a fifth load from the man beneath him. It was the same man with the long cock that had fucked him the night of his possession. His name, Simon had come to learn, was Fagan.

Fagan let out a moaning, yelling cry of satisfaction as his long cock began burying its hot load inside of Simon’s ass. Fagan’s thin, muscular body writhed uncontrollably beneath Simon as the power was drawn from his body. Simon felt another surge of energy and elation jolt through him and Yidian welcomed another feast. The life energy in the seed was like a drug for the demon and the sensations passed through Simon’s mind as well.

“I fucking want more,” Simon whimpered breathlessly.

Fagan didn’t hesitate to give Simon exactly what he asked for, he was surprisingly strong and toppled Simon over onto his side. Fagan then grabbed hold of Simon’s waist and shoulder and began long stroking his still erect shaft in and out of Simon’s hungry hole. It was so wet and warm from the multiple loads Simon had taken, so Fagan had no trouble sliding in and out with increasing speed and intensity.

Soon they worked up a momentum and synchronized their movements so that Simon’s whole body was practically bouncing on and off Fagan’s long cock as they lay on their sides. Simon had a smile on his face and an emptiness in his mind. No thoughts could exist other than feeding his intense need. Fagan fucked and fucked for what must have been another hour, gradually changing positions to have Simon on his back. Then he flipped Simon over on all fours. Then he laid Simon flat and smashed his whole body against Simon. Sweat was pouring from their bodies with the effort.

“This is the best hole I’ve ever fucked,” Fagan whispered in Simon’s ear.

“Fill it up,” Simon begged.

“With pleasure,” Fagan grinned and began releasing a flood inside of Simon’s guts. Simon moaned and squeezed the cock inside him, milking every drop of the sixth load to flood his body that morning. Simon was shocked that Fagan did not stop but kept up the momentum after he ejaculated. He got faster and faster slamming against Simon with extreme force until he roared in triumph and shot another load inside of the ass.

“I like this one,” Yidian confessed internally, also impressed.

“That was fucking amazing,” Simon laughed as Fagan began withdrawing his huge shaft. The cock was still jerking from the intense orgasm even as it began to go limp. Simon sprawled out on the wet sheets and just rode the wave of euphoria for a while. It took time for Yidian to absorb all the energy, especially after seven loads. After every session, Simon’s body felt tighter, firmer, and less prone to aches and pains. He felt alive like never before.

“You are getting stronger,” Auren suddenly spoke from the door.

“Sorry,” Simon waved to the solemn man in gray robes, “didn’t know you had come in.”

“I must monitor your progress. There are dangers to unchecked power too.”

“It’s just sex,” Simon managed to get himself up and began searching for clothes to wear. He wasn’t thrilled with the way Auren’s gaze dissected his naked form. “You make it sound like I’m playing with fire.”

“Don’t be flippant, boy!” Auren snapped, “You don’t know what you are capable of yet.”

“Then let’s get started on today’s lesson,” Simon suggested as he finished putting on his shirt, “Show me of what I’m capable.”

Auren led Simon out of the bedroom and down to the study where they had been working for the past four days. Simon had learned nothing but symbol after symbol after symbol. Simon enjoyed reading the books Auren had given him, filled with lore and information on various spell forms, but the endless writing of symbols was tedious. Simon would write and write until his hand cramped and any misplaced line or whorl in the design was met with a hard smack on the back of his hands from Auren’s ‘training’ staff.

“Let me guess,” Simon muttered, “more symbols.”

“You have to be able to write them precisely and effortlessly,” Auren admonished, “or the results could be catastrophic or even fatal when used in spells.”

“I thought I’d just be able to make fire or wind from my hands with a thought or something fantastical like that.”

“You were not born with the gift of magic,” Auren explained, “Your best mode of channeling power is using runic symbols and spell forms. If you summon power unchecked as fire in your hand, you are just as likely to incinerate your entire arm.”

“I’m sorry,” Simon hung his head, “I know you are trying to help me; I’m just feeling tired. We’ve been at this non-stop.”

“I tell you what,” Auren conceded, “if you can write all of Breakwhite’s catechisms and all one hundred thirty-seven nature symbols without a mistake, we will take the afternoon off.”

Simon set to work attempting to perfectly represent each of the desired symbols on the pages in front of him. Whenever he wrote symbols of power he could feel an almost intangible humming in the air and through his body. Alexandro Breakwhite had been one of the first wizards to use symbols and artifices to channel power. Simon had read about the great wizard in the books Auren had provided. Until Breakwhite’s time, only those gifted with magic could wield it, but Breakwhite’s research allowed for enchanting, summoning, and distributing power to others. Breakwhite’s catechisms were at the heart of almost any runic spell.

The symbols were almost a language, but a language that could only be felt, not understood or spoken. The catechisms represented the quiet song of the universe around them, and Simon could feel his hairs stand on end and his pulse quickening in his neck as the lines were put to paper. When the catechisms had been written and no stick was slapped against the back of his hands, Simon sighed with relief. He then set to work on the multitude of nature symbols, which were harder to understand. A symbol for birds, represented all birds, but the intent of the person writing the symbol could direct its true intention. The spell could influence all nearby birds or just crows or a single hawk. Bird could also just indicate a property of birds such as flight or feathers.

Simon focused and made sure each time he touched ink to page it was the exact mark he needed to make. Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead as he labored away, and the air thrummed with power. Auren stood over him, monitoring the progress as it was transcribed to paper. It took many hours and Simon’s hand was cramping and stiff as he finally dropped the quill and flexed his fingers.

“Well done,” Auren spoke with pride.

Simon looked up surprised, it was the first time Auren had acknowledged success. Usually, all of Simon’s efforts were met with a lecture or a swift whack from the ‘training’ staff.

“You have quite the memory to know all of those after only four days,” Auren clapped Simon on the shoulder, “If I am hard on you, it is only because you can handle it. We are lucky you were already academically inclined before we started this.”

Simon considered not for the first time that Auren was also eager to make haste in Simon’s training. Simon understood his own enthusiasm, but what was Auren’s rush to teach Simon? He still did not grasp what Auren had to gain in any of this. Five minutes with the man was enough to know that Auren Qualls did nothing without an ulterior motive.

“You can have the afternoon,” Auren spoke, “You’ve earned it.”

“Ask him if more soldiers can be brought in,” Yidian urged.

“I think we’ve had our fill for the day,” Simon answered internally as he considered his already raw and used ass.

“Come on, you could take some more,” Yidian pouted annoyingly like a small child.

“That’s enough,” Simon thought, “besides I’d like to check on Mirva and go to the library.”

“Same time tomorrow?” Simon asked as he reached the door.

“Yes,” Auren nodded, “I’ll have some more soldiers for you in the morning.”

“Igor?” Simon and Yidian asked in unison.

“I think he may be feeling up for it again,” Auren answered with a smirk, “Haizoth is a greedy little thing, isn’t he?”

“You have no idea.”

Simon took the afternoon to meet with Mirva and was not at all disappointed when he found Amos already there with his friend Gregor. They all shared some tea and a late lunch that Mirva had prepared. Simon had met Amos under strange circumstances, and it was nice to see him smile and present a more open demeanor. Simon couldn’t trust the feelings he felt, and he knew that most of Amos’ mood was on account of Gregor’s frequent joking. Gregor Hightower had all manner of impressions of his fellow city guards and well-known citizens.

Before the day got too late, Simon excused himself to make a trip to the library. He had not been to his home away from home since the goblin attack, and he had heard rumors of the devastation the fires had wrought there. For all of Simon’s life the library had been run by Donald Garvin; but in his attempt to save the entire collection of books from going up in flames, Mr. Garvin had met his end due to significant smoke inhalation. This was one of many losses Simon had been forced to contend with but could not offer condolences while he was still grieving over his parents.

Simon approached the library and could see much of the back of the building was still charred and blackened timber. The front of the building stood alone in defiance since the structures on either side had been completely ruined and inevitably torn down. Simon could see the evidence of new construction to the right of the existing library. Simon tested the door to the old library and found it open.

Inside, Simon could see the entire back of the library was open to the elements and many of the tomes would have been lost in the conflagration. The books that did remain were being wrapped in parchments and fabrics to protect the covers and prepare them for movement to a new location. A blonde woman labored by lantern light, sorting the volumes into various stacks. Simon knew the woman to be Marianna Ludd, formerly Garvin, until her marriage to the local baker.

“Simon,” Marianna spoke as she looked up at the new arrival.

“I’m sorry to hear about your father,” Simon approached, “he was a good man.”

“He was quite fond of you too,” Marianna smiled with a twinkle of tears in her eye, “always his best customer.”

“What will become of this place?” Simon wondered, “The books?”

“My husband and I are building our new home next door. I will manage what remains of the books in the lower floor and we will live in the loft above. It took my husband some convincing that I could handle the extra work and still help in the bakery when needed. It is my father’s legacy; I couldn’t let it die with him.”

“I’m glad,” Simon smiled, “I hope the remaining volumes can inspire someone as much as they have inspired me.”

Marianna turned to rummage through several of the various stacks of books, she muttered to herself as she looked and then finally grabbed what she was after. Simon recognized the book almost immediately as Tales of Meridiah. It was a collection of short stories all set in the mystical realm of Meridiah. Simon had been obsessed with the book and re-read it at least four times. Marianna extended the book to Simon.

“I know this was your favorite,” Marianna spoke, “I know he’d want you to have it.”

“Thank you,” Simon took the book as if it were a pane of glass he was afraid of breaking. After they chatted a bit more, Simon assisted Marianna in sorting books until it was nearing supper time. He gave the kind woman a hug and with his prized book tucked under his arm began walking back to the manor. Seeing the ruined library was just another sign that the life he knew in Westwood was dead, and there was no way of knowing what lay ahead.

Simon was seated at the long dining table with Ellina to his left, as had become the custom. Amos did not always join at mealtime, but he was seated across from them. Next to Amos sat the guest, Abbot Qualls, so that he was closest to Bronn Hawthorn, who sat at the head of the table. Most of the meal was passed by in awkward silence by the younger three while Bronn and Auren chatted congenially at the farther end. Bronn was currently boasting about his growing resources and increased trade with Southport.

“With Eldwood in turmoil after the recent attacks by goblins and other creatures, Westwood does have the potential to grow and become more prosperous,” Auren was agreeing, “I’ve considered starting another church here to spread the word of Belothemid.”

“We would greatly appreciate the continued protection from the Order,” Bronn clapped the man on the shoulder, “I think it’s a wonderful idea!”

“I’d like to reclaim my family’s land,” Simon suddenly blurted out, his face flushed, “The Lorall Farm will need to be tended and I think it should be me.”

Simon met Bronn’s eyes which peered down the table as if he had just seen a bug crawling on the floor and wanted nothing more than to stomp on it. Amos looked at Simon as if he’d lost his mind and Ellina took a nervous gulp of wine. Auren had only an intrigued smile as he looked at his new pupil.

“I will repurpose my new land however I see fit,” Bronn smiled wolfishly, “Hardly a concern this harvest season as it is nothing more than a burnt cinder.”

“Perhaps I can buy it from you or work off the debt,” Simon persisted.

“You own nothing of value,” Bronn laughed, “You are lucky I even took you in.”

“I will sell it to you for the same price you paid,” Simon countered, “I will relinquish your daughter’s hand in marriage, and I will no longer require your protection as a ward. Besides, Ellina should have been given a choice in the matter from the beginning.”

“You are out of line, boy!” Bronn rose to his feet in a fit of rage, “My lands and my daughter are properties afforded to me by right! Perhaps you are correct, a common farm boy has no place marrying my daughter. Perhaps you should be repurposed to scoop the pig shit down the road!”

“Father,” Ellina gasped, “such language is not appropriate for the dinner table.”

“I’m sorry, my pet,” Bronn gently stroked his daughter’s soft cheek apologetically. Then he turned his glare back to Simon, “See what you’ve done? Upsetting my daughter, such a malcontent. The thanks I get after all I’ve given you.”

Simon could feel the rage inside him building and Yidian with it seemed to grow and thrive in the hatred and turmoil inside. The air started to thrum with an energy that Simon could barely feel since his body and face were so hot with rage. Auren sensed it immediately even though the non-magic users were oblivious.

“Perhaps we should all calm down,” Auren spoke. The aura of the words ‘calm down’ whispered and hissed in Simon’s brain like snakes. Simon immediately felt more relaxed, and the tension seemed to lessen in his shoulders and his jaw unclenched. He noticed his hands had been balled into fists so tight his fingernails left marks in his palms. The thrumming subsided quickly, and Simon felt lightheaded.

“Yes,” Amos agreed, “Simon has been through a lot, perhaps he just needs rest to regain his clarity.”

“I think it’s all pretty clear,” Simon shook his head and laughed darkly, “Your sick fuck of a father took advantage of my parent’s death for his own ends.”

“Simon, please,” Amos looked at Simon desperately, “Let this go.”

“It’s too late for that, my son,” Bronn growled, “We’ve all seen the true Lorall colors this evening. Worthless, dirty shit-kickers coming around, begging for scraps to be handed to them. Ungrateful whelp.”

Simon rose with fury blazing anew inside of him. It happened so quickly, it was likely missed by all but Auren, the candles and lanterns in the room momentarily flared with greater intensity.

“Calm down,” Auren spoke again, “this is hardly a way to behave in front of guests.”

“Perhaps you are correct,” Bronn suddenly turned sincerely to the abbot, “I must apologize to you for this scene that has transpired.”

“If you’d excuse me,” Simon managed, “I need some fresh air.”

“This isn’t over, boy,” Bronn chimed in as Simon left the room. He walked directly to the front door and out into the cool, crisp night air. Simon walked around the path and down to the edge of the stream to listen to the water babble soothingly.

“It will cost you to be free of him,” Yidian spoke internally.

“Blood on my hands,” Simon gritted his teeth, “Unless I just flee… leave this place.”

“But this is your home,” Yidian countered.

“This WAS my home,” Simon spoke glumly. He absently picked up a rock along the riverbank and tossed it into the water. He repeated this process several times while he allowed the howling rage to simmer to a quiet drone in his mind.

“Why did you do that?” Amos suddenly spoke behind Simon, “I warned you not to.”

Simon turned to face the big man who was only backlit by the pale light of the crescent moon.

“I’m not letting your father take everything from me. Aren’t you tired of living in his shadow? Tired of watching him use people? You, Trent, and Ellina were always just pawns, not blood.”

“You ARE out of line,” Amos stepped closer, meaning to be intimidating.

“Maybe I am, but it’s about time someone was out of line around here. I’m not keeping your sister from being with someone she chooses, and we shouldn’t let him stop us either.”

Simon moved closer and placed his hands on Amos again; feeling his arms, neck, and pectoral muscles through his tight shirt. Amos did not recoil or resist this time and his breathing grew heavier.

“I…” Amos stuttered, “We…”

Simon kissed Amos and for the briefest of moments it was the most wonderful warm embrace Simon had ever experienced as Amos enfolded him and kissed back. There was a clear attraction between them that had been building and forming beneath the surface since they had met. Then Amos pushed Simon away again; his muscular arms outstretched to hold Simon at an arm’s length.

“We can’t,” Amos spoke.

“We could,” Simon hung his head, “If you were able to stand up to your father.”

“It’s not that simple and you know it. At the end of the day, he is still my father. Still family. I can’t sacrifice everything for an attraction. We barely know each other and there is too much standing in the way of our happiness.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Simon laughed darkly, “maybe I’m just clinging to the only person that has seemed kind these past weeks. I need to step back.”

“What will you do?”

“I have things I want to do yet,” Simon thought of Yidian and Auren, “But I also can’t stay in the manor again after tonight.”

“Maybe I can help you find a place to stay,” Amos suggested, “I know more people than just the Hightowers that may help.”

“We’ll see in the morning,” Simon nodded, “Thank you.”

Simon walked around Amos and made his way back to the house. Simon felt like such a fool, and hot tears spilled down his cheeks as he walked. He managed to wipe the tears dry by the time he pulled open the front door and stepped inside, eager to go to bed.

It was late at night when Simon heard the key scraping in the lock to his room. He quickly sat up in bed and watched the door crack open with a long beam of widening light spreading across the chamber. Holding a lantern, Bronn Hawthorn crept into the room and shut the door behind him. Bronn set the lantern on a nearby table and then stalked forward toward the bed. Simon slipped his hand over in the darkness and grasped his dagger.

“You treated me with disrespect,” Bronn slurred drunkenly as he approached, “Now I’m going to teach you a lesson.”

Simon waited until Bronn was close and he could smell the wine heavy on the man’s breath, then he swung the blade in a quick arc intending to plunge it into Bronn’s chest. Simon was stunned when the huge man caught his wrist in mid swing.

“That was a mistake,” Bronn spat before punching Simon hard in the gut with his other hand. Simon doubled over in pain and Bronn took the opportunity to twist Simon’s wrist and the dagger clattered to the ground. Simon realized he needed to fight to survive and tried to lash out in retaliation. Bronn’s muscular form was fast even in his inebriated condition, and he used Simon’s own momentum to drive him headfirst into a bedpost. Simon staggered and collapsed.

Simon woke in agony some time later. He was facedown upon the bed, blood clearly crusted and matting his hair against his face. His arms and legs were pulled out and lashed to the four corners of the bed. Bronn was on top of him, already inside of him even while he had been unconscious. As Simon suddenly tensed and struggled against the bonds it made Bronn’s huge cock even more uncomfortable inside of him. Bronn was being rough, hoping to damage and hurt Simon inside and out.

“You are made for this,” Yidian spoke inside, “Don’t fight it. That’s what this pig wants.”

“I am tied down!” Simon was panicking his eyes clenched tight, “How can I get free of this?”

“Good, you’re awake,” Bronn panted in Simon’s ear, “Now the real fun can begin.”

“Let your mind go somewhere else,” Yidian was soothing Simon. Simon could almost imagine Yidian stroking his hair and interlocking their hands. It wasn’t Yidian that Simon saw in his mind though, it was Amos. “That’s it, let me take care of this.”

Yidian suddenly opened their eyes and a lewd grin spread across their face as they looked over their shoulder at Bronn, “Is that all you got, you limp-dicked, drunk old fuck?”

“How dare you?” Bronn punched at Simon’s side and then began fucking harder than before.

Yidian arched their back, pushing their ass into Bronn’s cock and helping the man fuck deeper and harder still. Yidian moaned and squeezed their ass around Bronn’s cock. Bronn was dumbfounded by the boy’s sudden eagerness, but also couldn’t stop because he was so rapt in the sexual pleasure he was experiencing. It was so intense; it didn’t take long for Bronn to begin shooting his hot load inside of Simon’s ass. The hateful seed was delicious to Yidian and the demon grew in power.

Bronn attempted to withdraw his still throbbing cock from inside, but the ass clenched like a vice around his cock and the boy began to bounce his ass up and down, pleasing himself with Bronn’s raw cock. Bronn was horrified, this was not what was supposed to happen. He had come to dominate and show the boy who was in charge. Now, Bronn couldn’t resist, his cock couldn’t stop, and the ass was taking another load from his body.

“Such powerful seed,” Yidian giggled from the bed and with a swift movement broke all the straps he had been lashed to the bed with.

“What?” Bronn finally managed to pull out and flopped off the side of the bed onto the floor, “How?”

Yidian was on the man before he could recover, pinning Bronn’s arms to the ground with their hands and sitting back down on his cock with their ass. Yidian began riding up and down brutally taking Bronn’s cock fully into their ass with each intense movement. Bronn struggled, but it was nothing to hold the weak man in place.

“YEEEEHAW!!!” Yidian roared in triumph, “Having fun yet, old man?”

“What are you?” Bronn asked in fear as he began to orgasm again against his will.

“I’m you,” Yidian smiled like a maniac down upon Bronn, “Taking what we want.”

“Nooo, please no,” Bronn began to cry but Yidian only threw his head back and kept riding. Bronn orgasmed another ten times before he became unresponsive and Yidian absorbed them all. Simon’s body was swelling with muscles much like Bronn and even Simon’s erect cock was larger than before. The power of the seed was incredible, but Bronn’s life was even more delicious to Yidian. As Bronn took his final breath, Yidian devoured his soul.