Chapter 14: The Valiant

~Why do the Light cast no Shadow? What does this mean of my Shadow? Should I fear it? Is it plotting secret sins as I sit down to write? I do not know. I am watching it now ... as sways in my candle's light.- A Diary found in the charred ruins of an Abbey~

-Maria-

I could feel my Master's venom circulating through my veins. I could feel my Master sucking the blood from my body. Something ... deep in my belly ... shuddered contentedly. There was nothing better than this.

Every time his mouth pulled another draught of blood my mind slipped gently away from consciousness. With every drop he took, I could feel a soft and satisfying sleep drift ever closer.

As I felt the last of my essence leaving me to nourish and pleasure my Dark God, my mind sang out one last note.

I love him.

I am his.

These words became my only truth. They echoed like the ringing of a loud, clear bell.

In the back of my mind, I realized that I was asleep.

But this was not the kind of sleep I was familiar with. I had only experienced this kind of waking slumber once before ... when I had been attacked by the Afflicted woman.

I was dreamwalking.

Why does this happen to me every time I am forced to sleep?

The last time I had walked amongst dreams, I had found my Master's dream. I wondered if I could do that again.

I cast my consciousness around in the dark ether that surrounded me.

Suddenly, almost as if it was waiting to be called, the golden cord that symbolized my Awakening bond with my Master appeared.

It shone brightly amongst the dreary emptiness around me.

I reached out, and touched it.

Instinctively, I realized that the cord currently didn't lead anywhere.

Master isn't asleep right now.

Some part of me huffed at that. I had been rather proud of that blow job. Why wasn't he sleeping beside me right now? Had I not satisfied him? Had I not been submissive enough?

Somewhere, in the deep reaches of the dreamscape, I thought I heard a voice say:

Do you hear the thoughts you have now Alarial? Were these your thoughts a few mere weeks ago?

I shook my head. Every once in a while a small part of me would question my relationship with Devnik. It would ask me where my backbone had gone.

Admittedly, I had enjoyed punching my Master onto that stalagmite.

Suddenly, I had an idea.

I focused my thoughts, and attempted to see if I could control my own dream while I was in this altered state of sleep.

It didn't take me long for me to conjure up the image of what I wanted this place to look like ... after all, this was the place where my world was irrevocably altered.

The sound of water droplets falling onto cold stone greeted my ears.

Drip

Drip

Drip.

I opened my eyes ... and I saw the cave.

This was the cave where I had first learned what I was. This was the cave where I had first made love with Devnik. This was a place of firsts.

I cast my gaze around at the damp and earthy rock walls and the wickedly sharp stalagmites. It was a thoroughly miserable place ... and there was something missing.

With a smile, I closed my eyes and concentrated.

"I see you're awake my dear," came a voice from the darkness. It was the same words he said to me just those few weeks ago.

I opened my eyes.

Devnik was standing not one pace from me.

His red eyes were soft and inviting, and his perfect lips were curled up in a satisfied smile.

"You look beautiful Alarial." He took a step towards me. The softness in his eyes was melting into something that looked like hunger.

I smiled up at him. He towered over me, but instead of feeling intimidated, I felt safe.

In the back of my mind, I realized that this is not how our relationship began here in this cave. Devnik had softened since we had left this sanctuary of earth and stone.

"Alarial," Devnik murmured and he ran one of his slender hands through my hair. "What are you thinking about?"

I had never told him about the name Cariel claimed was my real one. Hearing the name in his voice sounded strange and wonderful.

I put my head against his firm chest. Underneath the satin of his brocade I could feel a sheet of rippling muscle contract against my cheek.

I shivered slightly from the chill.

"I'm a little cold," I said.

Devnik's strong arms snaked their way around my body. One hand came to rest at the small of my back, and the other gently grasped the back of my neck. I shivered again for an entirely different reason.

Every woman should experience being held this way ... knowing from just an embrace ... that they are loved and perfect.

For a moment, as I lingered in the fold of his strong arms, breathing in his scent, I forgot that this was merely a dream.

My heart cracked a little when I remembered.

Maybe I would use my last wish to have Devnik recreate this moment with me.

Dream-Devnik pulled me gently away after a moment or two. His red eyes peered into mine with a lust that I recognized all too well.

"It was so good of you to wait for me without clothes on," Dream-Devnik said with a smirk. "I've always thought that clothes were a constant hindrance in our relationship."

I gulped as I looked down at myself. I was as naked as the day I was born.

Even in my own dream he had me off balance.

Devnik took a step back.

"Would you like to dance for me?" He asked. "Do you know how?"

I nodded my head mutely. Of course I knew how to dance. It was one of the first things the Madame at the Rosy Garter made her girls learn. The Madame knew several kinds of dances. There were dances that said look but don't touch. There were dances that said I could be yours if you tried.

The Madame even showed us a very special dance ... only to be used if our patron was very rich, and very dedicated to one girl.

This dance said, I am yours.

Slowly, I began to move. I twirled and pranced about the dark cave ... moving to music that only I could hear. Every once in a while my dance would lead me back to Devnik, and I would swirl around him, and nibble at his neck and trace feather light touches across his back.

In the back of my mind, I suddenly realized that I had wanted to dance for him for a long time.

Before I was even half-done, Dream-Devnik launched himself at me. We toppled backwards and while we fell everything shifted.

We landed on a bed made of black silk.

We were in the underground room at the chateau.

His body pressed down heavy against mine. I could feel his hard manhood through his trousers against my bare leg.

I could feel the heat rising within myself. Wetness gathered in my sex in the anticipation of the act to come. The base, animal part of me that my Master had uncovered readied herself.

My nipples tightened as they brushed against his broad chest. I felt like I was drowning in him. His smell was like dark spice. It was masculine and powerful and incredibly potent.

In the back of my head I thought I could hear that same voice from before speak again.

You could shape this place into anything you desire as a dreamwalker. Is this what you would choose over all else?

The voice sounded much closer now.

Suddenly, Dream-Devnik turned to smoke in my hands. His form and smell and presence disappeared like it had been made of ashes and shadows.

The bed and room also began to blur along their edges.

A bright and pure white light began to burn in the center of the dreamscape ... and it seemed to wash all my illusions away.

Soon, nothing remained of the underground bedroom, and I was once again floating in the grey ether of the dreamscape.

Except this time I wasn't alone.

I couldn't see my interloper. It was more like a feeling ... a kind of knowing.

There was a presence here in the dreamscape with me ... and it was not my Master.

I felt unsettled as I looked out amongst the unbroken sea of nothing, as I waited for the presence to speak.

"I agree," said the presence. "I have always found untempered dreams to be unsettling ... let me take you to one of mine."

The white light flashed again, and for a moment I was blind.

All around me, I could feel the dream reworking itself.

I was standing on a grassy cliff covered in flowers of every kind. I recognized pink tulips and white daisies and an array of deep purple violets. The sound of rushing and receding water hung like a half-heard melody in the background. I peered over the edge of the cliff. A calm light blue ocean rolled placidly below.

The peace that suffused this place was overwhelming. This was truly a place that could only exist in a dream.

"It did exist once," a voice said mildly.

I turned around.

A man dressed in an unadorned white tunic stood behind me. He had silver eyes and his hair was the color of burnished copper. His locks spun down to his shoulders in elegant ringlets that looked like flowing molten metal.

This brilliant hair framed a face that looked like it had been carved by a master sculptor, whose only desire was to press the face of bravery incarnate onto cold marble.