Across Eternity: Book 7
Copyright© 2026 by Sage of the Forlorn Path
Chapter 7: Theatrics
Fantasy Sex Story: Chapter 7: Theatrics - Noah and his friends head to the nation of the dwarves to continue their fight against the Profane.
Caution: This Fantasy Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/ft Consensual Drunk/Drugged NonConsensual Reluctant Romantic Slavery Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction High Fantasy Science Fiction Magic Vampires Demons Light Bond Group Sex Interracial Black Female White Male White Female Oriental Female Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie First Fisting Oral Sex Squirting Big Breasts Violence
The next morning, Noah paid a visit to Elisandra. Due to the time zone difference, the sun was lower when he arrived, but Elisandra was already up and sorting through documents at an ornately decorated desk. Lour was there with her, along with several elven maids.
“Noah!” she said with a smile as he appeared.
“Hello. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“Nothing as important as you.” She then turned to Lour. “Let’s pick this up later.”
“Understood, Your Majesty,” he said with a bow. He then turned to Noah and bowed once more. “Lord Noah.”
“Chancellor Lour,” Noah replied in kind.
The elven maids tried to keep their eyes downcast as professional etiquette, but curiosity forced them to sneak peeks. Their interest was to be expected. Not only was he the father of the unborn heir to Sylphtoria, but he was the only human known to have impregnated an elf. As a species with a low birthrate, these maidens found that quite intriguing.
“And you can take the maids with you,” Elisandra then added, as if reading their minds. Once they left, she got out of her chair to greet him, though there was some difficulty.
“Careful, don’t strain yourself,” said Noah.
“You sound just like Lour. If it were up to him, those maids would be carrying me in a sedan chair throughout the palace and would do everything for me, as if I was paralyzed from the neck down. I’m glad you’re here. I find myself in the mood to go for a walk.”
“That sounds lovely,” Noah replied.
Carrying the harkonen sphere, Elisandra left the palace, bringing Noah with her. Her guards and maids followed from a distance, wanting to give the two lovers some time to themselves. They walked the bridges that stretched between the trees, made of interwoven branches, moving down level by level into the city. Though he was only a phantom, Noad could hear the birds and smell the abundance of plant life. It was a beautiful day in Sylphtoria, and the citizens were out and about for their daily routines. Those they passed by would stop and bow. “Your Majesty. Aegasviel,” they’d say.
“The elves really do love to call me that, don’t they?” Noah mused.
“Can you blame them? Under the light of your star, every night is a new religious experience. Many have even come to worship you.”
“I’d prefer they didn’t. I’ve been worshipped before in past lives, and it rarely ends well. I simply want their respect, not their idolization.”
“Well, you’ll have to come back here for real and do something about it. Royalty aside, our son is already being revered as a holy being, blessed by both the spirits and Lumendori. I’ve even been asked if intimacy at the Lunar Temple would allow other couples to have children.”
“That’s actually what I’ve come to talk to you about. Not about children, but the Lunar Temple. Specifically, the mirror.”
“Go on.”
“I told you last summer about the difficulties I’ve had in finding the core rune of my magic. Well, I’ve figured it out, at least partially. I’ve found that if I look into a similar mirror while my magic is active, I can almost see the rune. However, the mirror I created is not nearly strong enough. I need to use the mirror at the Lunar Temple on the night of a full moon, when the Moon Tears are fresh.”
“Hmmm, that does make sense. Yes, I will have someone bring the orb to the temple so you can use the mirror. The next full moon is in a few days.”
“Thank you. It’s strange; I feel genuine excitement when I think about finally discovering my true magic. I’ve only had it for a few years, but it feels like I’ve been waiting my whole life to find out the truth. It’s been so long since my heart raced in anticipation like this.”
“Not even for me?”
“I am excited about you and Rain, but it’s a different kind of excitement. This almost makes me feel ... young.”
“I’m glad. That smile of yours is making me fall in love with you all over again. So, you made a similar mirror in Vandheim?”
“I managed to buy some good holy silver and glass from someone, but the moon tears looked older than the actual store we found them in.”
“How are other things going in Vandheim?”
“Not great. The king is in complete denial about the return of the Profane, and his advisor is enabling him. Everyone in the city is scared and too afraid to admit it.”
“I wish I could say I was surprised. No one likes an inconvenient fact.”
“You’d be amazed at how much time and energy I’ve spent trying to combat that laziness. I’ve seen people get all worked up and throw hissy fits just because someone tried to warn them of diseases, enemies, health hazards, existential threats, what have you. They’ll accuse you of lying, of trying to rob them or quash their freedom, all because it’s easier to deflect and accuse rather than accept their fragile mortality. Tell them that fire is dangerous, and they’ll stick their hand in the flames just to try to prove they’re strong enough not to be burned, all because they can’t stand being told what to do and what they’re vulnerable against.”
“I believe it. Elves can be surprisingly foolish and stubborn. You think it’s hard convincing humans and dwarves of danger? Try changing the mind of someone who has held their beliefs for centuries. Once they believe a lie, no amount of evidence will get them to admit they’re wrong. Lour and I once had a disagreement about the name of a bird that would frequent my window. I knew its true name, but he had been raised to believe it was something different. I pulled out a book about birds and proved I was right, and though he relented, I could see it in his eyes that he thought the book was wrong.”
“Reminds me of my daughter. Her name was Erica, the most skeptical brat I’d ever raised. She went through a phase where she questioned EVERYTHING, and not in a good way. Try to tell her something, and she’d always argue, second-guess, and doubt, and for no reason at all. She just assumed everyone on Earth was lying to her, because God forbid someone knew something she didn’t. She improved as she grew up, but it remained a bad habit of hers.
I mean, skepticism is good; it kept her from falling for misinformation and schemes. Better to have a kid that’s naturally skeptical than naturally gullible, but it got insanely frustrating that she couldn’t take even the smallest thing on faith and leave it at that. And almost every time someone asked her to do something, she’d have to know why. Imagine if you saw something heavy swinging towards you like a log on a rope, and you dropped to the ground and yelled at her, “Duck!” She’d just stand there, asking, “What for?” and then get killed. I was her father, and she didn’t believe a word that came out of my mouth. Hopefully, Rain will be less obnoxious.”
Elisandra laughed. “I have so many nightmares of Rain being, well, a nightmare. It’s gotten to the point where I’m certain our son is either going to be the most polite, noble, endearing prince the world has ever seen, or the rudest little pissant to ever live. There is no in between.”
“So, you’re saying he’ll either take after you or me.”
They arrived at a small museum down in the lower levels. Sylphtoria was filled to the brim with art, but this particular museum was recently created and rarely empty of visitors. Inside, numerous paintings hung, chronicling the reclaiming of Kisara Island. When he and Valia returned after failing to bring back Valon, Noah showed all of the pictures on his phone to a local painter for duplication. There were pictures of the local wildlife, the ancient city that once stood, and the elves from Noah’s scouting team, taken, of course, with Noah’s trained artistic skill for variables like proper lighting and distance.
With his sharp elven eyes, the painter blew up each picture from the small screen onto vast sheets of canvas. The smallest details on the tiniest pixels were transferred with crystal clarity. The museum drew spectators from all throughout Sylphtoria, amazed by both the subject of the paintings and the unbelievable realism. The exhibit was not without some sorrow, revealing a once-vibrant elven society reduced to ruins, but it also lifted the hearts of many, showing how Kisara Island, and the brave elves who helped Noah reclaim it, had been immortalized.
Noah and Elisandra walked by the paintings, with Noah retelling details of their capture. Elisandra had heard it all before, but every time Noah paused, she’d hold onto his arm, insisting he continue while smiling and laughing. They stopped before the two paintings that drew the most attention from the public. The first was a picture Noah had taken at the Kisara palace in the great hall. All of the elves and knights of Uther had been brought together for a group photo. They had awkward smiles, as to be expected.
“I swear, I must have explained the process half a dozen times, but the knights still didn’t get it. I told them I wanted to take a picture of them, they complained about how many hours it would take to paint them, and once it was done, they were shocked.”
“The elves seem equally bewildered. Orville looks like he’s completely lost,” Elisandra giggled.
“I’ve manned plenty of expeditions and journeys in past lives, and my teams and I would always take a picture like this, be at a mountain summit, the bottom of the ocean, or even other planets. So many great minds and explorers, seeking truth in the unknown.”
“Courage and curiosity; you’ll find them in every lifetime, I imagine.”
Then they turned to the other painting. “And here’s your favorite. I still remember how hard you laughed when I first showed it to you.” It was the picture Noah took of Aithorn, soaked in mud and fish guts.
“By the gods, I wish I could have been there to see it for real. He looks so fed up with everything. Look at his face. You can tell he swallowed something that he really didn’t want to.”
“If I had shown him this picture, he would have never allowed me to take it back. He would have smashed my phone to pieces before letting the world see him with fish intestines hanging around his neck.”
“You’d be surprised by how many women ogle this painting. He’s had many admirers throughout his life, but for some reason, they now find Leuca especially handsome when covered in filth. They say he looks rugged and tough. ‘I want him to dirty my sheets,’ they’d whisper.”
Noah and Elisandra laughed and continued through the museum.
“So, who would you rather do? An elf that’s been dead for a few hours, or a female ogre with big tits that’s in heat?” Daniel asked, walking down the street with Foley and Seraph.
“There is no right answer to that question,” said Seraph with a grimace.
“I know there isn’t. The question is, which terrible answer will you resign yourself to? It’s a game from my world.”
“I can’t. I just can’t.”
“I bet that’s because you got the princess on your mind. You trying to score with your dead brother’s girl? That’s low.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. Besides, you’re talking about having sex with dead people, which is so much worse.”
“I’ll take the ogre,” said Foley. “I need someone who will throw that ass back, even if it’s an ogre. You know she’ll be grateful. Ok, I got one. A centaur like Shannon, but she’d remain in her centaur form the whole time, or a sexy Profane, but she’ll try to kill you the second you drop your guard? Whoever you pick, you have to do all the foreplay. That means taking the road down south.”
“Oof,” Daniel grunted. “I don’t know how well I’d be able to perform with the threat—and certainty—of death, but I worry that if I get behind the centaur girl, she might accidentally kick me in the nuts. Plus ... horse puss, man. I just can’t do it. I’ll go with the Profane, and just take off as soon as I nut. I won’t even grab my clothes. I’ll just run for life with my dick swinging.”
“I’ll take the Profane as well. I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to handle myself if she turns violent. Plus, she’s probably a demon in bed,” said Seraph.
“Good choice. Seraph, you’re up.”
“Ok, uh ... an average-looking human woman, but she’ll spread horrible rumors about you after, or a gorgeous woman, but with an equally attractive husband, and he’s into some freaky stuff?”
“Well, when I consider all of the gross, shameful things I’ve done to support my drug habit ... I’m going with the rumors bitch, because I can just make up rumors about her too, and I am too sober for the married couple.”
“Same, rumors bitch. I’ll just give her a fake name. I’m a dwarf. What’s she going to do, pick me out of a crowd of other dwarves? I know how you people look at us.”
They then halted their conversation as they approached a produce stand.
“I haven’t seen you around before,” the little old lady said. “What can I get you?”
“All this looks good. Can I try one of those carrots?” Seraph asked. She passed him one, and he bit into it. “Oh, that is really sweet. We’ll take a bag of those.”
“You have good taste. They’re freshly picked.”
“I haven’t had carrots in a while. Many of the farms surrounding Colbrand were destroyed with the city, so the pickings were slim,” he replied.
The old woman stopped. “Colbrand was destroyed? How? When?”
“You didn’t hear? It happened last month,” said Daniel. “The Profane attacked with a huge army—twice, actually. We fended them off the first time, but they leveled the entire city the second time.”
“I have friends living in Colbrand. How can I believe this is true?”
“You really didn’t know about the Profane coming back?” Foley asked.
“Well, someone said a man was shouting it somewhere in the city, but no. No, no, I refuse to believe it. You three best hush up and stop spreading your nonsense before you end up banished.”
“It’s only a matter of time before they strike here. Hopefully, someone in charge will do something before it’s too late,” said Seraph. He paid for the carrots, and they departed, leaving the woman to fret.
“They really like banishing people, don’t they?” Daniel muttered as they continued through the street. “That reminds me, Foley; what’s the story of your family? How did your clan get the boot?”
“Back in the day, the Foley clan was highly respected as a family of craftsmen, with many members being regarded as the greatest of their era. At the time, it was led by five sons: a leather worker, a wood worker, a blacksmith, a runesmith, and a jeweler. They wanted to work together on what was to be the finest piece ever produced by our family, and settled on a shield. The leather worker made the straps and surface layering, coating it with wyvern hide. The woodworker shaped the body out of the pieces of sverna and other magical trees. The blacksmith fortified the rim with a carefully crafted mixture of alloys, giving it an edge that would make it safe for the user to grasp, yet strong enough to strike down foes without breaking or chipping against enemy strikes. The jeweler carved and set in a unique magical gem that would boost the powers of both the shield and the user. The runesmith imbued it with brilliant magic. It was a masterpiece of magical craftsmanship, and the five brothers loved it so much that they refused to ever let it be used, for despite its strength, they considered it too beautiful to risk being damaged, and decided it would forever hang over the Foley hearth. However, one of the princes of Duravound found out about the shield and became obsessed with it, wanting it for himself. He approached the brothers with offers of wealth and power, but the brothers refused, so the prince resorted to threats.
The brothers realized he wasn’t going to give up, so they came up with a plan. They asked the prince for an exorbitant amount of money, something that would take time for him to gather, while they crafted a duplicate shield. Unfortunately, they had already used up their best materials and tried to make do with what they could get on short notice. The prince was an obnoxious shit-stain, but he had a good eye, and his obsession led him to discover it was a lesser fake. Since they tried to swindle the prince out of such a large amount of money, and break a devulist agreement, the whole clan was banished, and the shield was confiscated as added punishment.”
“That’s rough.”
“That’s part of the reason why I came. I want to see if I can get it back. I bet if I had it during the fighting tournament, I could have outlasted Saimallah.”
“Considering how stubborn the people here are, I suggest you start praying,” said Seraph.
These warnings about the Profane were happening throughout the city. Noah and his friends were moving about in groups of three, acting like regular tourists as they explored Duravound. Whoever they talked to, and no matter what they spoke about, they’d try to steer the conversation towards the Profane. Over in the next district, Cyrilo, Alexis, and Sophia had just stepped out of a bakery when they noticed a work site down the street. An obelisk was being erected, one of dozens throughout the city.
“Excuse me, is there a story about these pillars? Are they monuments or something?” Alexis asked an idle worker.
“Apparently, it’s all part of a magical experiment that the king has approved,” the dwarf grunted. “Once all the obelisks are erect, they’ll gather ambient mana from all around us, and we’ll be able to harness that power for all manner of magical technology.”
“Like a barrier or weapon?”
“As if I knew.”
“It would be good for this city to have one. With the Profane on the move, this city will need all the protection it can get.”
“Pfft. Nothing but lies,” the dwarf scoffed.
As Alexis spread the message to all that would hear, Cyrilo stepped forward to examine the runes carved into the side of the tower.
“What is it?” Sophia asked.
“From what I can tell, he’s correct about them drawing power from the environment, but this formula is very unusual.”
“Unusual, how?”
“It’s using many more runes than it actually needs, like answering a question with forty words when only four are needed. Spells are like contracts, but this one is stuffed with so much jargon and fluff that it’s near impossible to read. Why would they intentionally make the spell that much harder to balance?”
Not too far off, however, Noah, Valia, and Shannon were having the worst luck. Onlookers gawked as they were forced out of a tavern, with everything from steins to food being thrown at them by the indignant customers and staff. They had tried to tell stories about the Profane in Handent and the fall of Welindar, but all it did was infuriate those in denial, while those who may have believed them were too afraid to speak up. That was the third tavern they had been booted from. It was beginning to look like the unspoken fear of the Profane was not as prevalent as they had hoped.
At midday, they all gathered in front of the inn to discuss their progress.
“We convinced some kids before their parents dragged them away, but the rest cursed us and all of our descendants,” said Seraph.
“At least someone listened to you,” said Cyrilo. “We were accused of hysteria and trying to start a panic.”
“We had mugs thrown at us as we were kicked out of a tavern. I have to go inside and wash the ale out of my hair,” said Valia.
“This isn’t looking good. It seems like the public is as bullheaded as the king,” Noah muttered.
“How in the world are we supposed to convince people of the truth when they wager everything on their lies and denial?” Alexis asked.
“By lying to them,” Noah said, suddenly struck by inspiration. Before he could elaborate, Valia, Shannon, and Cyrilo all perked up with their pointed ears twitching.
“We have company,” said Valia.
A large group of soldiers arrived, led by Ragar—or Sados, as Noah knew him. The troops with him were enchanted with magical armor and weapons, and exuded a powerful aura. It would be a fair guess that they were the best in the kingdom, and their presence could only mean one thing.
“Wandering Spirit, you and your friends are under arrest.”
“On what grounds?” Noah asked.
“Murder. The owners of the Gilded Jewelry Box were found slain earlier this morning, and witnesses confirm you got into a heated argument with them because they expelled you and your group yesterday.”
“It was not a heated argument. I offered to pay for damages incurred by your men, and they refused. My friends and I were kicked out, but we simply moved to another inn. I had no quarrel with the owners of the Gilded Jewelry Box, nor any reason to cause them harm.”
“Noah was with us all night last night,” said Valia, stepping forward.
“It’s true. He never left our side,” Shannon added.
“Of course, you would defend him, but that makes you all guilty as collaborators. Your little stunt earlier caused the king to hesitate in throwing the book at you, Wandering Spirit, but word of your murders has convinced him that you cannot be allowed to roam free. You are a criminal, an agitator, and a liar. Call out your little fart squirrel if you wish, but nothing will protect you and your friends from justice. Men, advance.”
The soldiers stepped forward, but Noah held up his hand. “Wait,” he said, speaking through his clone self while, in his invisible state, he removed his storage ring and swallowed it. This situation could actually be just what he needed. “I stand by my innocence and the innocence of my friends, and if you try to apprehend us on false charges, we will defend ourselves. However, if it will put your mind at ease as well as your king, I will surrender myself into your custody until the truth comes to light and I am exonerated. Take me and let my friends go. The alternative will be far worse than some skunk spray.”
This was not what Ragar had been expecting. Like before, he simply wanted to pit Noah and his friends against the soldiers of Duravound, ruining any chance of the king listening to them and driving them out of the city. However, that plan would likely fail to kill Noah, and if he escaped, he would continue to be a thorn in the Profane’s side. However, locking him up in a cell was the next best thing. He would be removed from the board, and his friends, missing their precious leader, would be at a great disadvantage when the time came. All he had to do was keep Noah locked up until Zyrga’s remains arrived.
“Very well. However, you will hand over all of your weapons, plus your knight ring. I’m well aware of the enchantment it holds. We’ll also take any other magical items you possess.”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’ll leave them with my friends, but you can search me to confirm.”
“Noah, don’t do this,” said Valia, grabbing his arm as he unbelted his sword.
“Valia, trust me on this. You’ll see me soon,” he replied.
She stared into his eyes and let go. “I trust you.”
“My Lord!” Shannon exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around him, trying to keep him from leaving.
“Shannon, stay with Valia. Trust me.”
Valia managed to pry Shannon off him, but it was clear that she wasn’t the only one distraught.
“This isn’t right. It’s just like with Lucius,” Alexis cursed with her hands balled tightly into fists.
Noah passed his weapons and his knight ring to Shannon with the dwarves watching, but it was the unenchanted ring he received as a bronze-rank. He also emptied his pockets and handed over any additional weapons he was carrying. He was locked in irons and led away, having just enough time to look back and give everyone a nod.
“Tell me something, Sados,” Noah said as he walked down the streets in chains, turned into a spectacle to show the might of the dwarven empire. “Did you kill those innkeepers yourself or have someone else do it for you? I’m curious as to how much effort you put into this farce. If you’re going to imprison me on trumped-up charges, I’ll be greatly disappointed if all this was done half-assed.”
In response, one of the soldiers behind him kicked him in the back of the knee, knocking him down.
“I’d watch my mouth if I were you, outsider,” Ragar growled. “You’re not in Uther anymore. This is the world of the dwarves.”
Noah was marched through the city, with one of the soldiers loudly announcing his crime so that everyone would know what he did. The crowds booed and jeered him, but abstained from throwing anything, simply because they didn’t want to risk hitting one of the soldiers. It didn’t bother Noah, as this was simply another experience he had gone through before. He was brought to the prison district, where magic was used to extend the walkways along the cavern walls.
“Most of these cells are empty, but don’t worry. You’ll have company,” Ragar taunted. Noah was brought up to his cell and shoved inside, with his shackles removed. “Enjoy the rest of your stay in Duravound,” the cruel dwarf then added before the door was shut.
The slamming of a cell door; yet another sound Noah was painfully used to. His room was stark, with nothing but a hole in the floor to use as a latrine and some old straw to sleep on. The only source of light came from outside his cell, with only the dimmest sliver of illumination passing through the small barred window of the door, leaving him in darkness.
“So, I finally have someone to talk to. What are you in for?” a voice outside asked.
Noah stepped up to the door and crouched down by the dwarf-height window. “They say I killed two people. What about you?”
“Disturbing the peace. I tried to warn everyone about the Profane, and they locked me up.”
“Same for me. That’s why they say I murdered two people. You must be the joker that Princess Cynatas told me about, who made a big show of trying to warn everyone.”
“What a second, Noah?!” Roc exclaimed.
“Hey, Roc.”
“I’ve never been so happy to hear your voice.”
“Yeah. I was wondering why you sounded so familiar.”
“You said you spoke with Cynatas?”
“Did somebody say my name?” the princess asked, appearing outside of Noah’s cell as if materializing out of thin air.
“Princess, how nice to see you again,” said Noah.
“Sados was making such a big deal about arresting some killer, so I had to see what all of the fuss was about.”
“Well, it’s not true. I’ve been framed.”
“I assumed as much. Sados has a bad air around him. I can feel it. It seems like there is always someone in the royal court with a noxious aura. Still, I have the Wandering Spirit and my one-armed songbird all to myself. It’s the start of a neat little collection. Though it will be awkward for my love and I to flirt with each other with someone right next door. Roc has told me a great deal about you. Some good, some bad.”
“Well, you can believe the bad,” Noah replied.
“Noah, please tell me you have a way to get us out of here. I’ve been stuck in this cell for weeks. They can detect vibrations and damage. You try to tunnel out or bust the door open, and the guards will end up having to scrape you off the walls. The lock is similarly rigged, so don’t bother trying to pick it.”
“I have a similar plan, one to get myself out of here and then prove your innocence so they’ll let you out.”
“Proving my innocence doesn’t mean much at the moment. I don’t care what it takes to get out of this pit so long it happens as soon as physically possible.”
“Look, I promise I’ll get you out of here, but you have to trust me. Once I slip out, I’ll leave a doppelganger here to make it seem like I’m still in my cell, and I’ll need you to convince the guards it’s still me in here. This only works if Sados and the king think I’m locked up. It’s the perfect alibi.”
“What works? What are you going to do?”
“You were locked up because the king refused to believe your warning of the Profane. I’m going to convince him and everyone else. Give me a day and I’ll have you out.”
“You’d better be sure about this.”
“I am. Cynatas, will you help me?”
“What do you need me to do?”
An angry voice then echoed from below. “Hey! Get down from there!”
“I’ve been spotted. I need to leave,” she said.
“No! Stay right where you are. I need them to extend the walkways and come up here. Tell them I’m sick, very sick. Convince them to open the cell door.”
“I understand.” She then turned and hollered to the guards below. “Guards! Your prisoner is sick! Something’s horribly wrong!”
Noah could hear the walkways extending and went to work. He jammed his finger down his throat and triggered his gag reflex, forcing himself to vomit up his ring. After cleaning it off, he put it on and conjured one of his harkonen orbs, stashing it in the pile of hay with his ring. He then lay down on the ground and began to spasm, pretending to have a seizure. The pool of vomit next to his face would make it all the more convincing.