Akkadian Statuette
Copyright© 2011 by zaliterr
Chapter 1: The Fires of Kazallu
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 1: The Fires of Kazallu - Once, magic worked. Centuries before Babylon, a boy from a poor family and little physical skill found a place through talent and hard study. His desires--safety, food, a woman’s affection--were in reach. But life was often short and risky: disease and drought, fire and enemy blades always loomed. To escape death, the apprentice hid away his spirit in a dangerous spell. He didn’t expect to sleep so long. Now, there are no sorcerers. Everything changed. And yet...
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft Consensual Romantic Rape Heterosexual Fiction Polygamy/Polyamory First Safe Sex Oral Sex School
"Master Leshada! They broke the eastern gates! The Akkadians are pouring in!" screamed the water boy. He was running towards the market.
I was not a master yet. I just passed my practitioner's examination and was not ready to teach anybody, but this was no time to correct the boy.
The smoke was everywhere. The armies of King Sargon set fire to the orchards outside Kazallu. Then they sent the fire against the houses inside the city. Houses on fire smelled differently than burning trees, and lately the smoke also contained the sickening sweet smell of burning meat. I hoped it was just animals caught in the fires, but I feared worse.
Most of our soldiers were already dead, some trapped outside the walls when the Akkadians attacked without warning, and now the rest would be dying at the eastern gates.
My old teacher, Master Hashemal, was dead, too. For two days we struggled against the Akkadians, sending burning winds and evil dreams against their armies. But Akkad had more sorcerers, and they sent back the winds, the fires and then the evil dreams back to us. This morning Hashemal was struck by sorcerous lightning while trying another spell against the invaders. My weaker shields saved me only because I was not directly targeted.
The Akkadian sorcerers stopped sending firestorms now that their soldiers had entered the once beautiful Kazallu streets. Fighting my exhaustion, I scried the streets to the east. The Akkadians were killing some men, tying up others and herding them out of the city. Two tall figures in sorcerous robes were accompanying the soldiers, directing them to kill some of the Kazallu men. One of them raised his head as he felt my scrying and screamed something. Almost at once I felt an evil sending strike against my shield. The shield held, but I lost my focus. When I regained it, I saw in horror that the Akkadian sorcerer was leading a group of soldiers directly towards Hashemal's house and me.
I finally decided to try the Spell of Disembodiment. It's an advanced and dangerous sorcery, and even Master Hashemal was dubious about its chances of success. Nonetheless, it was better than being enslaved or killed by the Akkadians. It needed a special crystal to store my consciousness – Master Hashemal constructed one years ago, but never wanted to try it. It was said by the sages in ancient Eridu that old dying kings could have their spirits preserved in perfect jewels and then restored to young bodies; but despite such legends, nobody had successfully performed such spells in many generations.