I. This is the direct sequel to Touch O' Luck
Touch O' Luck
II) It serves as a prologue to the Old Realms series.
It will be a superior reading experience
to start this story from the beginning
Please give it a good rating if you liked it, it will help the story reach a much bigger audience:)
Chapter specific maps of the realms
Maps of the Realms
[/author]
Aelrindel
The world has changed
The Realm sang for her to wake up, from the large open window leading outside. Birds and trees, flowers and the sandy wind coming from the desert, all in perfect sync. Lenar moved to oblige them, sliding over to the side of the big bed, until she reached the edge and planted both her feet on the lush white carpet underneath. She paused there for a few moments, drowsy eyes on her almost perfectly round breast, now freed from her sheer nightgown; the nipple on it swollen, where the Prince had worked it with his teeth. The skin around it a shocking and unhealthy angry dark-red, almost black.
Lenar hissed in frustration and got up to walk towards the balcony. Exited pushing aside the heavy drapes, the strong sun washing over her lithe body, the rich aroma of the lavish flower garden, arranged in large marble containers, intoxicating. From light-purple almost pink geranium, to potunias, naughty bougainvillea and even lush white night-jasmine.
“Alurae.” Lenar said, as her fingers dug into the soft flower soil, wanting to repair the damage. Her skin flamed up, a sheen of sweat damping her flimsy outfit, the sound of someone approaching, stopping her at the very last moment. She pulled away frustrated and looked to see, who the intruder was.
“What happened?” Wulan asked always perceptive and Lenar proceeded to show her, turning around fully. Her servant stared at the damaged flesh with keen eyes, then at Lenar’s dirty fingers and finally the beautiful mini flower garden behind her.
“It will heal,” She declared simply. “His seed was strong, it seems.”
“How do you know?” Lenar hissed, not fully trusting her judgement.
“I enjoy copulating, way more than you, Mistress. Passion and pain are entwined.”
Which of course wasn’t an answer at all.
“Just let my flowers live, Mistress. Please, I just finished this bunch,” Wulan pleaded, seeing her not convinced.
“Hmm.”
Wulan reached, carefully covered the soft exposed mount and rearranged the strap to keep everything in place, under the Zilan female’s scrutiny.
“Are you thinking of it right now? Copulating?” Lenar probed curious.
“Yes, Mistress,” Wulan replied, her eyes lowering to the floor.
“Don’t,” Lenar advised and with a last look towards the colorful flower arrangement, she added. “I shall visit the lake.”
“Mistress, is it wise?”
“It’s either that, or I’ll start killing servants, starting with your friends in the kitchen.”
The thought of tender flesh making her mouth water, the dark need never too far away.
Wulan sighed, understanding the stakes.
“Lake it is then, Mistress,” She droned.
Lenar hoped to avoid any preying eyes on her way out of Yin Xiyan’s palace and she was successful for the most part, using a light long cloak as cover and barely any magic. Barely, because upon reaching the narrow dirt road leading to Lake Utari, she put a guard to sleep with a song, the man collapsing on the second verse and almost impaling himself on his spear.
Dance not, o’ sweet honey-dipped fairy, over the fire’s might
Let go ‘n sleep in thine gentle embrace, o’ summer’s night
Obviously this could have gone better.
Lenar left him behind and walked the usually empty path, the small road not preferred by the locals, this part of Desert Lake considered too dangerous. The terrain changed as she approached the thick copse, the throngs of palm trees turning everything green around her and the dry sandy path turning to muddy soil. Where it ended, two figures were standing in the middle of it, barring her from reaching the lake’s emerald waters.
One of them was Suharto, probably the last person Lenar wanted to meet up close and personal. The other strangely, was another Aken, of all accursed things, as if one wasn’t… one too many. The Shaman noticed her approach and signed for his colleague to stop talking. Both of them stood tall, their elongated bodies awkward and ungraceful. The second Aken, was missing at least two fingers Lenar could see, from his left hand, the rest of them clasped on his long staff.
A nigh disconcerting detail.
Well, for a lesser Zilan perhaps.
“I felt your approach from afar, your Grace,” Suharto hissed, the words coming out jumbled, his accent atrocious.
Bullshit you did.
“It’s a sunny day,” Lenar replied with a hint of razz, stopping three meters away from them. Close enough. Proceeding to add, her tone unchanged. “The road empty of other people and I’m hardly small in size.”
Though graceful aplenty.
“Wit, is the sin of the privileged,” Suharto retorted. She could barely understand his mumblings.
“And the living,” Lenar deadpanned, just the same. “Are Aken deprived of it?”
Whether she meant wit, or life, left purposefully vague.
The second male Aken, narrowed his snake eyes, nostrils expanding as he sucked air in with greed. Tasting her scent.
“What do you think?” Suharto asked him and his atrociously ugly friend grunted, a forked tongue wetting his mauve lips. Deep red, dancing over a jaw painted white.
“She has magic, sire,” The man hissed. “How interesting.”
“Grogoceq agrees, your Grace,” Suharto said, with a twisted smirk.
“Hah, as if this thing’s word matters.” Lenar taunted, opening her hands wide and letting her essence spread towards the lake. Reaching out, she sang and the lake’s inhabitants heeded to her call. “Is he even real?”
“He’s my best student,” Suharto spat insulted. “You’re in over your head, your Grace,” He patted the blackened bone hang from his neck. “Your silly spells, won’t work on us.”
“Pfft, you poor sod,” Lenar replied undaunted, “You haven’t seen my spells yet, nor you’re aware of who you’re talking to,” Grogoceq snarled and raised his staff, the lengthy weapon not sufficiently long to reach her, but the sinuous man seemed fast enough, to cut into the distance. “And as for my song, well… that wasn’t for you.”
Suharto narrowed his eyes, just as Nimra’s low menacing growl coming from behind them, alarmed both her opponents to the danger and the fact she wasn’t there without allies of her own.
“Do you think, she’ll let you take her bones?” Lenar asked them and Grogoceq seemed to seriously consider it, before the older Aken stopped him, with a click of his tongue.
“How?” Suharto inquired turning to her. “There’s no spell—”
“That you know of,” Lenar cut him, her voice turning serious. Her real form shedding the illusion, silver eyes shining brighter than the sun. “Outing me to the Khan, would be nigh ruinous for your plans, Aken.”
“You’re a…” Suharto mumbled stumbling back, Nimra’s growl, reverberating at the edges of the copse they were standing, a warning to keep still. “How?”
“Not everyone was killed,” Lenar replied with a shrug. “Does this make you sad?”
“I’m a reasonable person.”
“This, I find hard to believe, but I’ll allow it for expediency.”
“You wish no retribution then?” Suharto asked, more than a little surprised.
For what? Most of the blame, lies with me. You overrate your role in it. As for your reptile schemes, they were always squashed by the Empire. No Zilan ever worried about your degenerate species.
Dangerous, but not too worrisome.
Other than the fact, there was no Empire anymore, which made things a little more complicated.
“Enlighten me, why I should.”
The Aken shaman offered her another malformed smirk. “I misspoke. You shouldn’t. Our businesses aren’t at odds, your Grace.”
Now that was worrying, she thought.
“What business is that?” Lenar probed, steel in her voice.
“Trivial,” Suharto downplayed it. “A mere attempt at seeing the Realm in my waning years. Bask at its potential, peacefully.”
“There’s a war going on, right now,” She countered.
“Not our war, not at this point,” Suharto replied, with another worried glance at the watching Nimra lion. She was close enough to reach them with a leap. “We shall let you and… ehem, your friend, indulge in thy afternoon swim, your Grace.”
The latter a veiled warning. The slip of the tongue done on purpose. Next time she’ll meet with them, they would be better prepared. This was planned ahead of time and while she boasted plenty to rattle them, the Aken were never that brazen, nor brave to begin with. Cunning was their biggest strength and vile death magic.
Seeing both of them here on Eplas, meant the world as she knew it, was changing.
Even worse, it perhaps had changed already.
And Aelrindel had missed it.
I. This is the direct sequel to Touch O' Luck
Touch O' Luck
II) It serves as a prologue to the Old Realms series.
It will be a superior reading experience
to start this story from the beginning
Please give it a good rating if you liked it, it will help the story reach a much bigger audience:)
Chapter specific maps of the realms
Maps of the Realms
[/author]
Aelrindel
The world has changed
The Realm sang for her to wake up, from the large open window leading outside. Birds and trees, flowers and the sandy wind coming from the desert, all in perfect sync. Lenar moved to oblige them, sliding over to the side of the big bed, until she reached the edge and planted both her feet on the lush white carpet underneath. She paused there for a few moments, drowsy eyes on her almost perfectly round breast, now freed from her sheer nightgown; the nipple on it swollen, where the Prince had worked it with his teeth. The skin around it a shocking and unhealthy angry dark-red, almost black.
Lenar hissed in frustration and got up to walk towards the balcony. Exited pushing aside the heavy drapes, the strong sun washing over her lithe body, the rich aroma of the lavish flower garden, arranged in large marble containers, intoxicating. From light-purple almost pink geranium, to potunias, naughty bougainvillea and even lush white night-jasmine.
“Alurae.” Lenar said, as her fingers dug into the soft flower soil, wanting to repair the damage. Her skin flamed up, a sheen of sweat damping her flimsy outfit, the sound of someone approaching, stopping her at the very last moment. She pulled away frustrated and looked to see, who the intruder was.
“What happened?” Wulan asked always perceptive and Lenar proceeded to show her, turning around fully. Her servant stared at the damaged flesh with keen eyes, then at Lenar’s dirty fingers and finally the beautiful mini flower garden behind her.
“It will heal,” She declared simply. “His seed was strong, it seems.”
“How do you know?” Lenar hissed, not fully trusting her judgement.
“I enjoy copulating, way more than you, Mistress. Passion and pain are entwined.”
Which of course wasn’t an answer at all.
“Just let my flowers live, Mistress. Please, I just finished this bunch,” Wulan pleaded, seeing her not convinced.
“Hmm.”
Wulan reached, carefully covered the soft exposed mount and rearranged the strap to keep everything in place, under the Zilan female’s scrutiny.
“Are you thinking of it right now? Copulating?” Lenar probed curious.
“Yes, Mistress,” Wulan replied, her eyes lowering to the floor.
“Don’t,” Lenar advised and with a last look towards the colorful flower arrangement, she added. “I shall visit the lake.”
“Mistress, is it wise?”
“It’s either that, or I’ll start killing servants, starting with your friends in the kitchen.”
The thought of tender flesh making her mouth water, the dark need never too far away.
Wulan sighed, understanding the stakes.
“Lake it is then, Mistress,” She droned.
Lenar hoped to avoid any preying eyes on her way out of Yin Xiyan’s palace and she was successful for the most part, using a light long cloak as cover and barely any magic. Barely, because upon reaching the narrow dirt road leading to Lake Utari, she put a guard to sleep with a song, the man collapsing on the second verse and almost impaling himself on his spear.
Dance not, o’ sweet honey-dipped fairy, over the fire’s might
Let go ‘n sleep in thine gentle embrace, o’ summer’s night
Obviously this could have gone better.
Lenar left him behind and walked the usually empty path, the small road not preferred by the locals, this part of Desert Lake considered too dangerous. The terrain changed as she approached the thick copse, the throngs of palm trees turning everything green around her and the dry sandy path turning to muddy soil. Where it ended, two figures were standing in the middle of it, barring her from reaching the lake’s emerald waters.
One of them was Suharto, probably the last person Lenar wanted to meet up close and personal. The other strangely, was another Aken, of all accursed things, as if one wasn’t… one too many. The Shaman noticed her approach and signed for his colleague to stop talking. Both of them stood tall, their elongated bodies awkward and ungraceful. The second Aken, was missing at least two fingers Lenar could see, from his left hand, the rest of them clasped on his long staff.
A nigh disconcerting detail.
Well, for a lesser Zilan perhaps.
“I felt your approach from afar, your Grace,” Suharto hissed, the words coming out jumbled, his accent atrocious.
Bullshit you did.
“It’s a sunny day,” Lenar replied with a hint of razz, stopping three meters away from them. Close enough. Proceeding to add, her tone unchanged. “The road empty of other people and I’m hardly small in size.”
Though graceful aplenty.
“Wit, is the sin of the privileged,” Suharto retorted. She could barely understand his mumblings.
“And the living,” Lenar deadpanned, just the same. “Are Aken deprived of it?”
Whether she meant wit, or life, left purposefully vague.
The second male Aken, narrowed his snake eyes, nostrils expanding as he sucked air in with greed. Tasting her scent.
“What do you think?” Suharto asked him and his atrociously ugly friend grunted, a forked tongue wetting his mauve lips. Deep red, dancing over a jaw painted white.
“She has magic, sire,” The man hissed. “How interesting.”
“Grogoceq agrees, your Grace,” Suharto said, with a twisted smirk.
“Hah, as if this thing’s word matters.” Lenar taunted, opening her hands wide and letting her essence spread towards the lake. Reaching out, she sang and the lake’s inhabitants heeded to her call. “Is he even real?”
“He’s my best student,” Suharto spat insulted. “You’re in over your head, your Grace,” He patted the blackened bone hang from his neck. “Your silly spells, won’t work on us.”
“Pfft, you poor sod,” Lenar replied undaunted, “You haven’t seen my spells yet, nor you’re aware of who you’re talking to,” Grogoceq snarled and raised his staff, the lengthy weapon not sufficiently long to reach her, but the sinuous man seemed fast enough, to cut into the distance. “And as for my song, well… that wasn’t for you.”
Suharto narrowed his eyes, just as Nimra’s low menacing growl coming from behind them, alarmed both her opponents to the danger and the fact she wasn’t there without allies of her own.
“Do you think, she’ll let you take her bones?” Lenar asked them and Grogoceq seemed to seriously consider it, before the older Aken stopped him, with a click of his tongue.
“How?” Suharto inquired turning to her. “There’s no spell—”
“That you know of,” Lenar cut him, her voice turning serious. Her real form shedding the illusion, silver eyes shining brighter than the sun. “Outing me to the Khan, would be nigh ruinous for your plans, Aken.”
“You’re a…” Suharto mumbled stumbling back, Nimra’s growl, reverberating at the edges of the copse they were standing, a warning to keep still. “How?”
“Not everyone was killed,” Lenar replied with a shrug. “Does this make you sad?”
“I’m a reasonable person.”
“This, I find hard to believe, but I’ll allow it for expediency.”
“You wish no retribution then?” Suharto asked, more than a little surprised.
For what? Most of the blame, lies with me. You overrate your role in it. As for your reptile schemes, they were always squashed by the Empire. No Zilan ever worried about your degenerate species.
Dangerous, but not too worrisome.
Other than the fact, there was no Empire anymore, which made things a little more complicated.
“Enlighten me, why I should.”
The Aken shaman offered her another malformed smirk. “I misspoke. You shouldn’t. Our businesses aren’t at odds, your Grace.”
Now that was worrying, she thought.
“What business is that?” Lenar probed, steel in her voice.
“Trivial,” Suharto downplayed it. “A mere attempt at seeing the Realm in my waning years. Bask at its potential, peacefully.”
“There’s a war going on, right now,” She countered.
“Not our war, not at this point,” Suharto replied, with another worried glance at the watching Nimra lion. She was close enough to reach them with a leap. “We shall let you and… ehem, your friend, indulge in thy afternoon swim, your Grace.”
The latter a veiled warning. The slip of the tongue done on purpose. Next time she’ll meet with them, they would be better prepared. This was planned ahead of time and while she boasted plenty to rattle them, the Aken were never that brazen, nor brave to begin with. Cunning was their biggest strength and vile death magic.
Seeing both of them here on Eplas, meant the world as she knew it, was changing.
Even worse, it perhaps had changed already.
And Aelrindel had missed it.
