Chapter 18

Against the dark of night he stands,
Brandished holy light in hand,
Forged by fury, wrath and flame,
The blade that was lost, again has a name.

“Excerpt from ‘Of Light and Shadow’ – Maigan Ezra”

The boat rocked gently as it sailed northward up the Emerindrelle toward the Karvani Mountains. The wind had been in their favour, and the strong northerly breeze pushed the vessel quickly over the waters.

Elaina was relaxing below decks in the large cabin the Elves used for sleeping and any other activities that required something comfortable to lie on. Currently, she was naked and reclining on the soft pillows that were scattered around the cabin, and four very handsome male Eryn’elda were giving her their full attention.

A naked sailor knelt on either side of Elaina, and she stroked a smooth, hairless cock with each hand while a third straddled her chest and lazily thrust his length between her tits, which he held captive in his strong fingers. The fourth was the captain and the oldest Elf on the boat, and therefore the most well-endowed. Elaina couldn’t see him down there, kneeling between her spread thighs, but she could feel him inside her well enough; his thick tool was slowly but steadily driving her wild.

As it turned out, Elaina, Induin and Liaren were the only women on the boat – the other dozen crew were all men. Normally the beautiful Elvish twins would be down here with her to help with all this marvelous cock, but they were required to work a few shifts on deck every so often to help keep the crew fresh. Elaina had offered to help also, but the captain would not hear of it; she was a guest of the Elves, and therefore should enjoy the journey, which she most definitely was.

Receiving pleasure was as important as giving it, according to Aros’ teachings, and so Elaina allowed herself to fully enjoy being ravished by the four sailors. Feeling devilish, she expanded her vala, and pushed all four of them over the edge together.

Four simultaneous cries of pleasure echoed through the large cabin, only heightened by Elaina’s own high-pitched moan as four cocks erupted in unison, spraying her face and breasts as well as her pussy with that delicious Elven come, and bringing her to her own peak of pleasure, her body tensing and quivering as she climaxed.

They all took a moment to recover, remaining as they were. One of the Elves whose cock she was still holding produced a cloth from somewhere and gently wiped her face before leaning in to kiss her tenderly on the lips.

“Would that we could spend more time with you, eruchen,” the gorgeous Elf – his name was Lemben – said with a smile. “It has been a most pleasurable afternoon.”

Elaina sighed happily and kissed him again, giving his shaft a few tugs and making him moan into her mouth before he successfully extracted himself from her grasp and crawled away over the cushions toward the door.

Next, she found herself locking lips with the Elf that had been making use of her tits – Denvel. He was still straddling her chest, but had released her come-slicked breasts, and his still-turgid dick was resting wetly on her skin as he explored her mouth with his tongue before he too exited the cabin.

The remaining cock in her other hand – Imdall’s – was gently pulled away, and another kiss was shared before Imdall left, leaving her with Durien, who was still buried inside her. Silver-haired and blue-eyed, the fellow was a vision. He was older than the others, more confident, and in Elaina’s opinion, more attractive.

Unlike his crewmates, Durien looked to be in no hurry to leave. In fact, he pushed his slender hips forward and buried himself fully in Elaina’s very willing body. Without saying a word, he leaned forward, supporting himself above her on straight arms. Ever so slowly, he withdrew his cock almost all the way out of her just long enough to make her miss that feeling of fullness before he drove his hips home again, his heavy balls slapping against her ass.

“Oh, fuck!” Elaina cried, gripping his upper arms tightly as he began to fuck her, repeating the same long, deep strokes time and again. Durien’s thrusts gradually began to increase in speed, but lost nothing in intensity, each powerful movement hammering her into the cushions below. Elaina loved sex in all it’s different forms, but rarely was anything better than a good, thorough fucking.

The skilled Elf sat back up slightly and hooked a strong hand behind each of her knees, changing the angle of her hips, which brought his long, thick cock into contact with different, deeper places inside her already well-fucked pussy as he continued to pummel her.

Automatically, her hands came to her tits and gripped them tightly as Durien fucked her with everything he had, his lean muscles rippling beneath his pale skin. Eventually, Durien exploded inside her once again, and Elaina came hard as she felt his hot seed spurting deep inside her. He collapsed onto her, and she wrapped her arms and legs around his slender body, kissing him everywhere she could reach as his spasming hips slowly came to a stop.

After many moments, Durien raised himself up a little so he could look Elaina in the eyes. “Thank you, eruchen,” he said quietly. “Being with you is like nothing I’ve ever experienced.”

“Thank you, Durien,” she said, smiling up at him. She was always grateful to her lovers, for sharing themselves with her.

“I should head back up,” Durien whispered. “But, perhaps if I’m lucky, I will get some more time with you before we arrive at your destination.”

“I hope so,” Elaina said sincerely. She watched him gracefully step across the lavishly-cushioned cabin as he left, in particular the way his bottom moved as he walked. It was wonderful spending so much time with a people who were not afraid to express themselves intimately, as was often the case with humans and some other cultures.

It would be easy for Elaina to lose herself among the Elves, and live in Ildernass with all these beautiful, loving people, but she had work to do, and Aran needed her; she’d felt it more strongly over the past few days. She didn’t know how she knew it, only that her deepest instincts were telling her so.

As she pulled her clothes back on, she found herself wondering what Aran was up to. She knew he was on his way to Amina’s Temple, but hadn’t heard from him in several days. Surely, he must be almost there by now.

The sounds of shouts on the deck above brought Elaina from her thoughts, and she rushed up to see what the commotion was. On deck, lithe, shirtless Elves dashed about, hauling ropes and clambering about in the rigging while Durien shouted orders from the tiller, his silver hair shining in the late afternoon sunlight.

Induin and Liaren dashed up, broad smiles on their stunning, identical faces. “We’re pulling in to shore!” Liaren said excitedly.

“We’ll be less than a day’s walk from the mountains!” Induin added.

Although Elaina preferred men, she had certainly had her fair share of fun with women, and couldn’t help but admire the two Elvish beauties before her. Identical in face and slender form, but Liaren had hair of brown and eyes of deep green, while Induin had silver hair and eyes of clear blue. They were wearing their usual forest-green, tight breeches, but like the men running around, they had foregone shirts, leaving their petite breasts bared.

Sure enough, when she dragged her eyes away from the twins and looked north, the Karvani Mountains towered in the near distance, tall and snow-capped. Elaina had no idea where exactly the entrance to the temple was, but she had faith in her vala; she would find it.

Wait. What did Induin just say? “What do you mean ‘we’ll’ be less than a day’s walk?” Elaina asked with a cocked eyebrow.

Liaren answered. “That’s right, eruchen! We’re coming with you!”

When Elaina opened her mouth to protest, Induin interjected. “We want to see Aran! And we want to see your Temple! Besides,” she added with a wink, “We know you enjoy our company.”

Elaina couldn’t stop the grin that crept across her face. Truthfully, she did like the twins – insufferable as they were at times – and she couldn’t deny them a chance to see Aran; they were melded to him, after all. “Alright,” she agreed. “I can’t think of a good reason to keep you away. Do your people know you are leaving Ildernass?”

They nodded in unison, but Liaren replied. “We are in our free years, so it’s expected of us to be out in the world rather than home.”

“What are ‘free years’?” Elaina asked curiously.

“Well,” Induin began. “When we are young – between eighty and one-hundred and fifty years or so – we spend our time exploring and learning about the world in whatever way we choose, and we have little in the ways of responsibility until later in our life. Some choose to remain home in their free years, though they are normally pretty boring Elves, if you ask me!”

“We take up the responsibilities of leaders later in our lives,” Liaren added. “When we are wise enough to be trusted with such things.”

Elaina nodded, impressed. Much could be learned from Elvish culture, if people could be brought to see the value.

The boat was soon safely moored and a long plank was extended to the nearby riverbank, allowing Elaina, Induin and Liaren to disembark. The twins were once again fully dressed now, in soft, knee-high boots of brown leather, and tight coats of the same forest-green as their hip-and-thigh-hugging breeches.

Farewells were said first, however, with much embracing and kissing between the women and the sailors. Elaina felt a small pang of sadness as she set foot on land for the first time in days and turned to wave one last time to the crew before the trees swallowed her and her two companions.

“We’ll travel through the night,” Elaina told the twins as they walked away from the river. “I am not precisely sure of the location of the Temple yet, but it will come to me.”

Induin and Liaren simply nodded, their heads swiveling as they scanned the surrounding trees for danger. They needn’t have worried; Elaina had expanded her vala as far as she was able – which was about a half-mile or so – and could sense everything within the radius. There were no towns or villages for nearby in any direction, so using her powers shouldn’t place them in danger.

It wasn’t more than a few hours into their trek that the land began to slope upward, indicating that they’d entered the foothills. Trees thinned and grass gradually disappeared as the earth turned from soil to rock. As they climbed, the temperature cooled and the breeze began to bite, tugging insistently at their hair and clothes.

The afternoon quickly became twilight, and in turn became night, though it bothered the three women not; Elaina’s vala provided her all the sight she needed, and the Elves could see in the dark.

Suddenly Elaina got a nagging sensation that told her instead of continuing to climb north, they should first head east for a bit. “We need to head east, and then north, I think,” she said to the twins, who were happy to comply.

Sure enough, heading east led them to where a wide section of the rocky hills looked distinctly different to its surroundings. Ascending levels of weathered rock too flat to be natural led further up into the mountains proper. It was unmistakable; these were once stairs, thirty feet wide and carved into the very mountain itself.

They climbed the long flight, noticing pillars and statues lining the stairs, beaten and worn by the last five hundred years of wind and rain. Some patterns on the pillars were recognisable, though most had all but vanished, as had the faces and features on the many statues. Perhaps they were famous Paladins, their memory lost to the centuries.

Induin and Liaren looked around in wonder as they climbed. “This was a sacred place,” Liaren whispered as she brushed fingers across what was once a statue of a man holding a sword. “A holy place.”

“It was one of the Grand Temples,” Elaina said quietly. “Hundreds, if not thousands of Paladins lived here, sharing their vala with all who required it.”

“Thousands of eruchen?” Induin said in awe. “What would such a world be like?”

Elaina had often wondered the same. “A peaceful one, I think, Induin. And a happy one.”

At that moment, a beacon blazed in Elaina’s mind, and a golden light shone briefly in the distance, just outside the range of Elaina’s vala. A smile broke out on her face and she quickened her step. “We’re almost there! Come on!”

It was a weary party that was camped in the foothills of the Karvanis. The days had been long, even on horses, due to traveling over more difficult terrain in order to keep away from roads and towns and villages. All were saddle-sore, with nobody in the party used to being on horseback for so long.

Aran was feeling less tired than the others looked, and he suspected Sara was much the same as he, as their vala were lending them strength. From where he was sitting cross-legged on the ground next to the small fire, he studied the beautiful young woman as she tied her horse to a nearby tree.

Sara had truly blossomed in a way that seemed nothing short of miraculous. The once skinny, underfed urchin girl living on the streets of Maralon had become a goddess with long, flowing brown hair framing a perfect face and a slender yet curved body that looked designed by a master artisan. Her breasts were full, and her hips flared away from a slim waist and down into creamy thighs that went for days.

She was fully clothed at present, but Aran had seen her in her skin enough times that he had her memorised in every detail. He very much looked forward to the day that her training was complete and he could share himself with her.

Sara must have sensed him looking, because she looked over from where she was stroking her horse’s neck and smiled warmly, adding a wink for good measure.

Aran returned the smile, then went back to staring into the fire as the rest of the camp settled down. They were a diverse bunch, all of them descendants of Servants of Aros, the ancient servants – or caretakers might be a better word – of the Paladins, who passed their knowledge and ways down to each new generation so that when the Paladins outlived them, their children could continue to serve.

Servants were held in high regard by the Order, and Aran could see why; they were noble, loyal, and dedicated. There was Sorla Kargen, the half-orc from Maralon, whom Aran had Melded on their first night together. Tall and statuesque, she had a very generously proportioned body. Silky raven hair tumbled down to her back and framed a beautiful face with high cheekbones, full lips and large, dark eyes that Aran often lost himself in. Due to her orc heritage, two petite tusks jutted out from her bottom eye teeth, only just visible above her lip.

Erik was a human scholar, a fit, square-shouldered fellow with salt-and-pepper hair approaching his middle years. Erik loved to discuss all things historical, and Aran had learned much from the learned fellow in recent days.

Sylvia was the youngest of the group except perhaps for Sara. The bouncy half-Elf was a delight to have around; clever and cheeky and gorgeous to boot. Short, with long golden hair and big emerald eyes, she had a slim, slender body and was nimble and quick; a born scout.

Lynelle was Sylvia’s mother, and provided the elven side of her daughter’s heritage. Tall, slender and graceful, Lynelle was around a century-and-a-half old. Straight brown hair fell around her typically beautiful elven face, with high cheekbones, large brown eyes and flawless skin. Her breasts were somewhat larger than her daughter’s, as she was pure Elf, and her body would gradually grow more voluptuous for the next few hundred years.

Erik, Lynelle, Sylvia and Sorla were chatting and laughing while they opened various saddlebags in search of food, while the fifth Servant – Liddea – plopped herself down next to Aran.

Liddea was a dwarf, with fiery curled hair that she wore long. Today it was in a braid, which was nestled in her massive, pale cleavage. Dwarf women were notably rounder of breast and hip and thigh than other races, and Liddea was no exception. Fat would not be the word to describe her; she was more pleasantly plump than anything. Her round face was really quite pretty, with its luscious red lips and button nose, and her blue eyes were crinkled at the corners due to her ready smile.

The shorter woman shuffled closer until her leg was pressed against his knee and she could rest her head on his arm.

Aran put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her comfortingly. “Everything alright, Liddea?”

Her hair rubbed against his sleeve as she nodded. “Just tired,” she said quietly.

“We’re almost there, you know,” Aran said reassured her. “We’re in the foothills, now, which means it’s not far. I expect we’ll arrive tomorrow.”

“My mother always told me that one day the Paladins would come again,” Liddea whispered. “But I never thought it would be in my lifetime.”

“Thank you for staying true, Liddea.” Aran said sincerely. “I don’t think we could tackle the problems ahead without the Servants.”

“I almost renounced my vow, once,” Liddea said slowly. “It was years ago, when my mother died. When I was younger, she and I had a fight because I wanted more than to live in some backwater hovel in poverty, so I left for Maralon to seek a better life, leaving my parents behind. When I returned a year later to visit, she was gone, buried in the back field, and my father wouldn’t talk to me.”

Aran just listened, sensing she had more to say.

“I almost renounced my faith in Aros, that day,” the dwarf continued. “But the one thing that kept me from it was my mother’s faith. She honoured it, and so do I.” She looked up at him, a tear in the corner of her eye. “And I’m glad I did, else I would never have met you.”

“I’m glad you did, too,” Aran said before he bent his head to kiss her.

“Alright, you two!” Sorla said playfully as she approached the fire with a tray of dried meats, cheese and flatbread. “There’ll be enough time for that later. For now, let’s eat!”

Side by side, the weary group ate and talked quietly before they retired for the night.

Aran had been dreaming a pleasant dream involving himself, Elaina and Amina naked and writhing on a huge bed when a cold hand gripped his heart and yanked him away to another place.

He was looking down on a scene playing out below. A torrid orgy was taking place in a large tent, and somehow, Aran was able to see through the top of the canvas and look right in. Some of the participants he remembered from previous visions, others were new. Four naked bodies were grunting, sweating and rutting in a frenzy of lust. A fifth – a slender, handsome woman in a sheer black robe was watching from off to one side with a hand between her legs and the other palming a breast.

There was the tall, crimson fellow – whom Aran knew from a previous vision was the half- Demon called Maloth – vigorously fucking a very beautiful, very well-endowed Mor’elda, her monumental breasts rolling to and fro with the surge of the half-Demon’s hips.

Alongside Maloth, another Dark Elf was on his back and being wantonly ridden by the most beautiful creature Aran had ever seen. He’d seen her before, and she’d captured his attention fully, as she did now. Tall and beautiful, black hair like silk, rose-coloured skin and every feminine curve accentuated like the fantasy of an adolescent boy come to life. How could such a beautiful creature exist? Surely, she was a goddess walking the world of lesser creatures!

Aran could sense his sleeping body, and felt the immense pressure in his loins as he looked upon sex personified. ‘No!’ he screamed in his own mind as he fought the dark lust rising inside him once again. This had happened before, when he’d seen this woman in his last vision. Whatever powers she had, they were dangerous.

As Aran struggled to conquer the desire threatening to overtake his mind, the woman stood up, leaving the Mor’elda’s impressive cock waving slickly in the air as she turned to watch the other couple.

Maloth had turned his lover over and inserted himself into her ass, and now he was reaming her roughly, perhaps unnecessarily roughly, except that it looked like she was enjoying it.

Aran watched as the impossibly beautiful woman straddled the Mor’elda woman and sat down on her back while Maloth continued his furious pumping. She then lifted a massive breast in each hand and offered them to Maloth, and he eagerly devoured them with his lips, teeth and tongue.

They looked so similar in face and form, these two creatures, that Aran no longer doubted that they were twin siblings, which marked them as the half-Demon offspring of Darius Sunblade and Morgeth the Corruptor.

It also marked them as Aran’s blood kin.

Unable to tear his eyes away, he watched the Demon woman lie down on top of the Mor’elda’s back and open her legs for Maloth. He quickly pulled free of the Elf’s ass and slid himself deep into the waiting pussy of his twin.

Aran awoke frustrated, and not just because these visions were giving him no clue as to the whereabouts of these Demons. The other thing that bothered him was the way he’d nearly been overwhelmed by the Demon woman; the dark lust had been so tempting, so inviting, so sweet.

Is that the power these creatures wielded? Some dark perversion of the vala of Aros? If Aran, a trained Paladin had struggled to resist, then what chance could an ordinary person have? Maloth and his sister must be gathering power quickly indeed, for there would be few – perhaps none – who could withstand such a seductive energy.

Aran got to his feet without disturbing Liddea, who had been cuddled up beside him by the dying fire. The others were all sleeping, clustered together under their cloaks nearby. Aran didn’t know how long he’d slept, but the pre-dawn had not yet touched the eastern sky. He was tempted to wake everyone and move on immediately, but decided to let them sleep another hour.

No longer in the mood for sleep, Aran scooped up his sword and moved off a short way to practice until it was time to break camp. His mind was working as well as his body as he flowed smoothly through his forms in the way Smythe had taught him.

His thoughts moved through his consciousness like water down a river, appearing and then vanishing in the moment, never lingering too long. The Heralds, the Demons, the Servants, Elaina, all drifting past as he worked. His thoughts also turned to the last time he’d killed men, when Sara and Sylvia had been in danger. Anger bubbled hotly in his gut as he remembered the men who had intended to violate a defenseless Sylvia.

Lost in the moment, Aran was unaware that his blade had begun to hum softly as it sliced the air, a pulsing rhythm that danced in time with his simmering fury. He worked his body harder, doubling his speed, somewhat amazed in the back of his mind how precise he remained, even at this pace. The weapon felt as if it were coming alive, almost as if it wanted to pull itself into each swing, each thrust.

It was the glow that stopped him in mid-swing, and he stood frozen, studying the way his blade had changed from silvery steel to orange-red, for all the world as if it had been stuck back in a forge-fire. Indeed, a fierce heat emanated from the blade, which hissed faintly in the night air, but strangely the hilt remained cool.

All vala -forged weapons revealed their powers eventually, but what had triggered this? Moments ago he had felt angry, furious even, toward those that would do harm to his friends, and the blade had begun to awaken.

A memory flashed, of Aran standing over the watchman that had intended to rape Sylvia, his blade against the man’s throat. He remembered seeing the truth in the fellow’s eyes, about how many women he’d preyed upon. Then Aran had taken his head.

The blade hissed fiercely as if in response to the memory, shining like a beacon in the night, the colour lightening from orange-red to yellow-white, radiating incredible heat.

“What is that?”

Aran turned to see Sara standing a short way off, shielding her eyes with a hand. “It would seem my blade has awakened.”

“It’s incredible!” She breathed, stepping closer and gingerly holding a hand towards the glowing sword. “So hot! Is it burning your hand?”

Aran shook his head. “No, it’s quite comfortable, really.” Curious, he gingerly touched a finger to the hot steel, but to his skin it felt cool.

Smythe had taught him that once his weapon awoke, he could give it a name, but for the life of him he couldn’t think of anything as good as ‘Lightbringer,’ which was the name of Smythe’s enormous blade.

The glowing weapon hissed, and Aran listened, hoping some clue would come to him. What had been feeling just now? Anger, fury, rage even, but none of those sounded right.

“Oroth,” came a second voice, a lilting, pleasant melody. Lynelle stepped closer, smiling as she beheld Aran and Sara.

“Oroth?” Sara asked.

“The Tar’elda were once revered as master smiths,” Lynelle said quietly. “Similar to the Dwarves, but our crafts were elegant and graceful, where theirs were sturdy, strong and stark. Our steel was fine, and it did not rust or turn dull with time or use. We had an affinity something like your vala-forging, Aran, which gave us the power to give some form of life, or character to what we were making.”

Lynelle’s gaze was fixed on the sword, and she was close enough now that her beautiful face was illuminated by the glow. “This blade sings a song, Aran, of fire and rage, of fierce love and hope, a warning to those who would stand against what you represent, and a promise of swift retribution if they do.”

A single word burned itself into Aran’s mind. “Oroth,” he whispered. It was a word he’d never heard before, yet it sounded familiar, like he’d always known it.

Lynelle smiled at him. “Yes, Oroth suits. It’s Old Elvish, and in the common tongue it means ‘righteous, mighty fury,’ or thereabouts. Translations are sometimes difficult.”

“Oroth,” Aran said again, louder this time, and the blade seemed to sigh in contentment as the glow slowly receded until it was back to normal, cold steel.

“I feel like something very important just happened,” Sara said slowly, looking between Aran and Lynelle.

Aran agreed, though he couldn’t say exactly what had changed. A glance at the sky showed him that dawn was approaching. It was time to move. “Let’s wake the others and get moving,” he said as he sheathed Oroth at his hip. He was half-concerned about the leather scabbard catching fire, but for all appearances, the blade appeared back to normal.

Sara and Lynelle quickly woke Sorla, Liddea, Sylvia and Erik, and soon the party was on the move once again, climbing into the foothills of the Karvani Mountains where Amina awaited.

Maloth sat alone in his tent, staring at his hands. Large, crimson and strong they were, much like the rest of him. He flexed his fingers, feeling the new power that flowed through every muscle, every joint and bone. Binding Adelain had increased his harem to five women, each one bringing him more power.

Was there a limit to his abilities? Or would he continue to grow stronger without end? The increase in power had also made him aware that his pets must be kept safe at all costs; if any of them died, he would lose part of the power he had worked so hard to gain. If they all died...

He cast the thought from his mind and turned to more constructive things. He had sent the two Morgai and a handful of Mor’tirith to scout out Amindaer Fortress to the south. If it was as impenetrable as Morin seemed to think, then he wanted to know as much about it as he could. They should be back anytime, now; it had been two days.

Thunder rumbled outside, booming across the plains and heralding yet another storm. They had been frequent, in the last several days, bringing howling winds and torrential rain, but oddly the camp had remained undamaged. Maloth rather enjoyed the wild tempests, they sang to him, as if their fury were a symbol of his rising power.

An unpleasant flash of warmth suddenly flared inside him, causing his skin to prickle and sweat to break out from his pores. His vision was roughly dragged to another place, where he was looking down on several people riding through hills. Maloth recognised the young man leading the group from the last time this strange vision had occurred, with the sword on his hip and his long hair tied back with a leather cord.

There was one other man in the group, and five attractive women. One of the women looked to be Elvish, and another Dwarven, and another human, while the two others looked to be half-breeds of some kind, perhaps of Orc and Elvish stock.

Maloth watched as the only human woman – a beautiful, brown haired creature – rode up beside the leader to speak with him. Somehow, Maloth was able to hear them.

“Aran,” the woman said. “We were thinking of stopping for a quick meal.”