The Glen: Book One - Cover

The Glen: Book One

Copyright© 2004 by Merlin

Chapter 23

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 23 - There is a world of magic just on the edge of sight... and it is moving closer, and closer... Welcome to the world of 'The Glen'.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Magic   Fiction   Safe Sex   Oral Sex   School  

With fog misting the landscape, the funeral cortège slowly wended its way to Sylvan Grove. An honor guard of two knights of the King’s Guard guarded each of the twelve shrouded forms that were bourn on horse-drawn hearses. All except for the first hearse, this was guarded by a full dozen of the King’s Guard, including Lancelot and Roland. The body of Morgan was covered by the royal standard of the King, and Gareth, clad now in the house colors of the Pen Dragons, held a naked great sword, blade up, at the head of the hearse.

Trailing the lead hearse were Arthur, Guinevere, Queen Titania and Emory. Behind them walked Erin, dressed fully in the silks and colors of a Princess Royal, followed by Megan and Richard with Jenny and Anne as her ladies in waiting. Other members of the court filled in behind each hearse so that all told, well over five hundred fairies walked slowly toward the grove.

Sylvan Grove is a natural amphitheater that has a stand of Greek columns at one end and is surrounded by stately cedars on the other three sides, forming a square area that is used for musical concerts under the stars, and is a favorite place for graduates to have their pictures taken on graduation day.

Sylvan Grove also marked the physical boundary between the mortal world and the land of the Fairy. It was here, on this most sacred ground, that the rituals would be observed and the ashes of the fallen returned to Mother Earth.

Each shroud wrapped body was laid to rest on a low stone altar, and after a few brief words by the King to any family, and a short spell casting by Emory, their shrouds glowed a brilliant white and then vanished, leaving behind no trace. A lone kilt clad piper played out a quiet dirge from the edge of the grove, where he blended into the heavy fog that covered much of the early morning campus.

Queen Tatiana and Queen Guinevere moved quietly among the mourners, offering a few brief words and a gentle touch. Since the Fairy are, by nature, open and free with their passions, quite a few knots of quietly grieving fairies were woven into the scene.

Erin stood proudly on the arm of her father, and offered a touch or a smile as she felt the situation warranted. Many a family member would go to their knees and reach out and touch the hem of her robe. At first, it embarrassed her greatly, but when Emory murmured in her ear that it gave them strength to know that the death of a loved one had not been in vain, she tried to smile and touch as many as she could. Arthur signaled his encouragement to her from time to time.

Finally, they came to the internment of Morgan. Arthur led the group of knights that carried his body to its final rest himself. The dozen knights in his honor guard carried his body, while many mourners wept openly. Gareth held Morgan’s sword ramrod straight at the foot of the bier, while tears slid down his face.

The King stood head bowed at the top of the bier, and at a signal, the piper grew silent. A hush descended over the grove, broken only by the occasional sniffle or cough.

“Morgan was a good and noble man. He never shirked in his duty to the King or the Crown. He was always a good sword master and teacher to me in my youth, and I thought he would live forever. I know now that no one lives in the physical world forever, but his memory and the lives that he touched will always keep him here in our hearts. Rest well, old friend, and await us on the other side.” Arthur laid a hand on the head of the shrouded form and then stepped back.

Emory slowly walked up to the bier and leaned over to whisper something over the remains, and then he too reached out and touched Morgan’s head. Brilliant red flames leapt from his hands and the shroud burst into a rainbow — hued bubble of light and then was no more.

Once more, the piper wailed out his mournful song into the fog shrouded morning light. Slowly, groups of fairies headed back to the observatory, shrouded in their own quiet thoughts.

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