A Daemon-Horn Blade
Copyright© 2010 by Stultus
Epilogue
Fantasy Sex Story: Epilogue - A fantasy/romance novel of young blacksmith who rescues the Duke's daughter from a demonic attack. He breaks off the horn from the creature's head and slays the monster with it, nearly dying himself in the process. Recovering with the aid of a traveling gleaman and Lore-Master, the lad finds himself at the center of a new great adventure while seeking to find out what he is becoming, and what fate the Weavers have in store for him. The first chronological story of Weaver's World.
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Romantic NonConsensual Rape Magic Slavery Fiction Tear Jerker Humiliation Torture Safe Sex Oral Sex Anal Sex Voyeurism Body Modification Slow Violence
The Matron Urðra frowned as she completed weaving her first panel of the new tapestry for this age. 'Still too fucking dark!' She muttered, mostly to herself, as she looked towards the new Crone for advice.
"Certain it is!" The Crone Veránda muttered, in rather annoyed concurrence. "The last panel of the old age that I weaved, before I took the shears, was bright and held forth some cheer. Now, with your first weavings the world is again dark and sinister. Where is that nice bright double-thread that I just cut?"
"Here now in my hand!" The Maiden Skúlda giggled with impatience. Now that that it as been returned to the tree of life, this thread will serve you well again indeed!"
"I hope that it shall!" Urðra replied, to the Maiden. For if the weaving continues ill, it may be your turn once again at the loom before the Æðelings are returned to their divine duties. If it were not for the doings of the seven Cisalo, I fear that the weaving would be even blacker indeed!"
"They have done their duties well." The Crone agreed. Already several of Gældra's seven lost necklace stones, with her divided powers, have been recovered, although they are not all are yet into the proper hands. While her restoration is not necessary for the return of the Æðelings, she will be needed before any final permanent barrier can be created between our world and the Infernals. What they have done to that once beautiful river valley is a mortal crime! The Dweorg, upon their return, are going to be pissed!"
"And well they should be!" The Maiden simpered with annoyance and impatience. "Can't you resolve that particular mess? It is most offensive to me as well!"
"Soon, I think, and I shall need that special thread for that task as well, but for now there another duty that must be done first, and I shall start to weave that now. All shall be well, in time ... I hope!"
"Hrrumph!" The Crone muttered between clinched teeth. She knew the Ymbwyrcan was in an especially delicate state, and she was less than convinced that a suitable outcome could be woven. In fact, the destruction of this particular tapestry, to being anew afresh with a new world, was ever more appearing to be the only suitable answer. So many mistakes had been made by Æðelings, she had to admit, but if the Infernals could be forever barred from this world, then there would be a chance. A slim one, but still nevertheless a chance! She had been cutting too many threads short these days with her shears, but that long delightful double-stranded thread, the gemæcca' the two lovers that were one with a single shared heart, indeed had possibilities for a fairer, brighter future!
