Getting Lost

Getting Lost

is a science-fantasy serial presented in 6 parts. I recommend reading

Getting Lost 1,

or the tale might not make sense. I want to thank Krellyn, Leah Harvey, and RNebular for editing.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy it!

Guinevere A. Hart

**********

Lotus' dorm was quiet, but she knew her friend and personal assistant, Pol, would be waiting up for her. Pol was a sil, a snake-like race of beings brought to Arcadia during a long past mission. Their scaled bodies were long and serpentine, moving via the powerful muscles in the tail. Arms and even fingers resembled snakes. Their warrior class exhibited a tough turtle shell that protected their vitals. But Pol's class was academia, and her form was lean and sleek.

Pol was curled around herself on a round platform bed with her head propped on her hands. She greeted Lotus with a bright smile and asked hopefully, "Any visions? We're good for the mission, right?"

"Yeah," Lotus replied, though something deep inside nagged at her that something was amiss. "We're good, Pol."

Pol looked at her with suspicion and uncoiled. She slid from her bed and encircled Lotus with her tail. She peered hard for a minute and said, "You've got that look on your face."

"I don't have a look," Lotus argued.

"You do. It's that look you get every time Sabrael gives you one of his massages."

"Eloua touch one another for comfort, Pol. It's their way, you know that."

"Oh sure," Pol said sardonically. "They touch one another, but only mated pairs blow each other's minds with orgasmic bliss. The color in your pretty cheeks looks an awful lot like bliss to me. So, tell me, did he touch you with his

thellimtok

?"

Lotus sighed and shook her head. "First of all, that's forbidden. I'm not Eloua, and it's wrong for me to touch his mating tentacles. Sabrael couldn't possibly want to truly mate with me. He just found me asleep in the pool again. I'd had a bad a dream or something, and he wanted to make me feel better." Lotus held up her hand and clasped her fingers with Pol's. "It's no different than when you and I 'comfort' each other."

Pol wound herself around Lotus' body, the fine texture of her warm scales raising fresh goose bumps. "I'm so excited for tomorrow," Pol whispered as she teased Lotus' skin. "I haven't been able to sleep."

Lotus closed her eyes in her friend's embrace and smiled when a thin forked tongue flicked over her nipples, still stiff from her encounter with her mentor. Lotus whispered in rapid fire how it felt to have Sabrael's fingers inside of her, how the tendrils of his palm expertly stroked her clitoris. Pol started panting, and the subtle lips of her slit brushed against Lotus hip.

When they chose to share their bodies with each other, it was often orgasmic, but hardly a serious matter for either of them. Sex was simply a matter of personal pleasure, a pleasure Lotus indulged whenever the opportunity presented itself.

The two intertwined, fondling and caressing. Pol's scales slipped between Lotus' moistened thighs and thrilled her already thrumming nerves. Lotus stroked Pol's genital slit, a place that felt similar to her own sex. At some point, they ended up in Pol's bed to carry one another over in pleasure.

Eventually, Lotus went to her own bed. When she fell asleep, she dreamt of fog and blood. Waking in a sweat, she shoved the dream far from her. It was only nervousness for the journey ahead. Soon she would leave the alien planet she'd grown to love as her own. Tomorrow, she was on her way to Hibreon.

*****

Aboard the

Nephilumen,

en route to Hibreon

Though Lotus had never put her training into practice, she was not the least bit nervous about it. She ran her hand along the smooth surface of the ship's hull and smiled. Its skin was warm to the touch, and she could feel the subtle vibrations of its life force. Her fingertips paused on an outer sensory node and her marks glowed in response to the ship's reaction. It was happy with her, excited to be about the task set before it, and the feeling was mutual.

The ship most resembled a giant cuttlefish, as this was the biology the Eloua began with when designing it. Eloua science was biotechnology, and nearly all their tools and machines were vat grown, modified, and enhanced life forms. The species advanced with every new world they explored, with every new creature they discovered. Lotus understood on a certain level that she was just such a creature.

They'd found her orphaned on a hellish world where demons swarmed from underground to destroy the people who lived in the light. Her parents had been warrior missionaries for the gods of light and life, and Lotus' training had only just begun when their temple was brought down by the dark hordes. Her mother had urged her onto a small raft, and Lotus could still remember her brief parting words. "Keep the gods, Ilyana, and they will keep you."

She hadn't known why the Eloua were there, if they fought the demons, or if they were the ones who woke them. It wasn't a thing she wanted to know. As far as Lotus was concerned, they had saved her from the very heart of the Infernal Tempest, and she had no desire to revisit the place. The Eloua gave her a safe and comfortable home, and Sabrael had raised her as his own. They were her family, and she would do whatever they required of her.

Her people had magic, a power that came from the life energy of the world around them. The Eloua called it

Soarkine

, the Divine Conduit. At several milestones during her upbringing on Arcadia, she had undergone modifications which gradually intensified her power. They gave her an honored place among them as an Oracle. She was a seer and counselor, but her most vital task was to navigate the void between stars.

She sensed Sabrael come up behind her and she turned to him. The Eloua touched her face in greeting and asked, "Are you ready for our journey, Lotus?"

She grinned and turned her head, so the marked part of her face rested in his palm. With her hand still on the ship, she said, "See for yourself."

Sabrael extended his

thellim

so Lotus could share the ship's anticipation with him. He hummed an approval and disengaged from the contact. Still, he searched her face. "You're sure you're alright? No more anxieties? No more stressful dreaming?"

She thought it was a weird thing to ask her, for Lotus couldn't recall feeling anxious or stressed at all. In fact, the last few days leading up to this seemed to blend together in a blur, and she could hardly remember anything about them. This memory lapse could be a reason for worry, but Lotus shrugged it off as excitement. She and Sabrael were embarking on a grand adventure to a new world, and she couldn't wait.

She answered him, "Of course not. If I had a dream, I don't remember it."

"Good," he said. "That's good. Let us be off."

Lotus and Sabrael boarded the ship and were given clearance to leave. They would be several weeks out before Lotus would need to do her part to transport them across the galaxy. In the meantime, she worked with her mentor in reviewing what they knew of their destination.

Previous surveyor drones reported Hibreon as a life bearing world with vast seas and varying landmasses. With breathable air, potable water, and flora that was not only edible but nutrient rich, Hibreon was a gift from the Divines. The planet also carried several races of humanoid sentients. What interested Lotus the most, was that one of Hibreon's more dominant races were elves. She assumed this was why she'd been chosen to go with Sabrael.

Much like the place Lotus had come from, the technology level was primitive. The Eloua considered such places and peoples as rare treasures. For this ancient race of beings, it was a perfect opportunity to bestow divine enlightenment. Though she and Sabrael were only supposed to observe and report, Lotus knew that he had greater ambitions.

Lotus knew her mentor better than his own people. Though they all loved to teach and inspire, the long-lived Eloua were generally slow and methodical. Sabrael was different, with a sort of impatient conniving that plotted just under the surface of his civility. Her loyalty and devotion to Sabrael had allowed Lotus to see this side of him, and she admired what she considered to be his nonconformity.

While Lotus studied Hibreon, it seemed Sabrael studied Lotus. She often felt his eyes on her, but it didn't bother her to be watched. It seemed as though he turned something over and over in his mind. She'd learned long ago to let him be until he figured out what he wanted to say. He finally let her know just before she was to go into the navigation chamber for the jump across the void.

She woke to find him leaning over her, and she gave him a lazy smile. "It'll be time soon," she said through a yawn. Then a thought occurred to her and she frowned at him. "Do you think I can't do it? Is that why you're moody?"

"Lotus, I doubt there is anything you

cannot

do. And if I seem 'moody', it's because I think it appropriate to say that I love you." He frowned and added, "Very much."

He cupped her face in his hands and looked into her eyes as though he searched for something. Lotus brought her face forward and touched her forehead gently to his. She said a common Eloua phrase, "That which is given is returned."

He drew his head back to look at her again. "Truly?" he asked. "Is it truly given, love?" His hands were in her hair, and his

thellim

moved into place along her left temple.

When he couldn't find whatever he looked for in her head, he sighed and withdrew. Lotus wanted to please him, but she didn't know what he was after. She was about to apologize to him, to ask him to clarify what it was he wanted. She thought she'd upset him, and it was in her best interest to keep quiet when Sabrael was upset. He wouldn't hurt her, she knew, but his passive aggressive coolness was somehow frightening all the same.

Sabrael snatched her blanket from her and threw it on the floor. He stepped away from her and paced around her bed. She chewed her lip as she watched him try to get his breathing under control. Lotus stayed where she was. His displays of temper were also unique to Sabrael, but the little fits came only occasionally, and they were short-lived. She had no idea what she'd done, but she knew this would pass.

She relaxed a little when Sabrael stopped pacing. With his eyes closed, he took a long, deep breath. Then he said, "Up. We're nearing the edge of our space, and you have a job to do. You need to bathe before you commune with the ship." Lotus got out of bed, and he turned to scoop her up into his arms. He said, "You will let me help you."

Sabrael's "help" in the bath usually meant a massage, and Lotus wouldn't turn that down. They both understood the soothing balm of intimacy. Whatever it was she'd done, Lotus knew his touch would make it alright.

Aboard ship, the bath was a shallow bowl set in the floor. A gentle shower of warm water fell from the ceiling as Sabrael entered the tub. He set Lotus on her feet and took the soap in hand. He washed her hair for her, and they began to relax into the comfort of routine.

Sabrael's soapy hands massaged her shoulders and back, melting the tension as he cleaned her. She could still sense a terseness in his mood, and she tried to abate it. "Sabrael, I'm sorry."

His hands paused, then he briskly wiped away the suds beneath the shower. He stepped around in front of her and tilted her chin up to meet his gaze. His expression was blank with a small pleasant smile on his narrow lips, just like any other Eloua. Softly, he chided, "Our way of apology is one face to another." His smile grew, and a bit of humor lit his eyes. It reminded her of when she was little and still learning Eloua etiquette. Lightly, he said, "One does not accept an apology off the back of the mantle."

"Back of the mantle," an Eloua saying that suggested deceit or insincerity. She hadn't meant to be insincere, and she felt stupid forgetting such a simple rule. "Yes," she nodded and looked him in the eye. "I'm sorry."

Eyes hardened and lips tightened ever so slightly. He asked, "And... for what are you sorry?"

"For disappointing you?" It came out like a question, because she didn't know what to apologize for. She just wanted to make him feel better. Disappointment seemed a safe enough answer.

"How have you disappointed me?"

"I- I don't know. I..."

In a flat tone he said, "Then, you cannot be truly sorry. Can you?" He thrust the soap at her and commanded, "Finish."

He sat on the edge, watching her bathe in silence. Only when she was ready to step out did he take her hand and draw close to her. Quietly, he said, "It seems we've upset each other. It isn't healthy for you to bond with the ship when you're like this. He brought a hand up to cup a breast, brushing a thumb back and forth across the nipple. "Let us first restore our bond, our balance, with one another."

Her nipple peaked under his thumb and she whispered, "Yes, Sabrael."

He pinched that nipple between his fingers and pulled, while the tips of his

thellim

further stimulated her. His free hand kneaded the flesh of one buttock, fingers moving ever closer to the heat of her sex. Lotus stroked his mantle from his head to his shoulder, watching the glow of his skin intensify beneath her hands. A trail of living light formed with her touch, and her marks glowed in response to his.

She felt something slip along the length of her inner thigh and something else brushed against her abdomen. At first, she thought it could be the tentacles from his palms, but both of Sabrael's hands were full. It was his

thellimtok

, his mating appendages, and she wasn't supposed to touch them. To be polite, she stepped back from him.

His

thellimtok

had a mind of their own. As she stepped back, the writhing tendrils reached for her. While he could touch her with his hands and

thellim

anywhere he pleased, Eloua never mated with anyone except another Eloua. It was forbidden to touch his mating tentacles, and it was rude to stare, but Lotus could be curious to a fault.

She expected him to turn away, to gather himself, but he didn't. He remained exposed and simply let her look. She understood his anatomy from her studies, but she had never seen mating tentacles in person. Several thin tendrils curled and coiled, stretched and beckoned. These were used both for pleasure and for anchoring with another Eloua.

The central trunk was thicker, widest at its base. It moved more slowly, more deliberate, than its smaller counterparts. This part was used for impregnation. To Lotus, it looked like a snake's head searching for a place to strike. She took another half step back from Sabrael.

He said, "It's all right, Lotus. I left the judgment of my fellow Eloua far behind me. Out here, it is only us."

It wasn't just the two of them. They had three of the sil with them. There was her friend, Pol. Then there were Sabrael's assistants, Sem and Abo. She asked, "What about the sil?"

"Sem and Abo prefer to keep to themselves. And though I am aware that you've occasionally shared your body with Pol, I have no interest in sex with the sil."

"What if they report to the elder council? What if they scrap our mission over this?"

"I control the information that is reported back to Arcadia. And the only being who can 'scrap' our mission is me." His smile widened in his confidence and he said, "I can feel your curiosity, your body's building anticipation of a new experience. Would you touch me, Lotus?"

She stepped forward and put out her hand. The thin tentacles responded to her reach, twining in and out, weaving around her splayed fingers. His skin produced its own lubricant, making the warm tendrils moist and slippery. The head of the major organ nudged and caressed her palm and wrist.

Sabrael gasped and moved his hips closer to her. His tendrils wrapped around her arm to gently tug on her. He held his own shaft, showing her how to stroke the length of it. While she followed his lead, he moved both of his hands to her breasts. His

thellim

slid over her skin, playing at her nipples until they stiffened to peaks.

Both curious and aroused, Lotus leaned her head forward and breathed in the warmth of his body. There was no smell from him at all. She put out the tip of her tongue to greet a questing tendril. It was wet and slick, with a mild salt taste. She drew the tentacle in between her lips and gently sucked.

Sabrael hissed through his teeth, and his

thellim

withdrew from her breasts while he gazed at her in shock. "Lotus," he moaned, while more of his tendrils explored her mouth. "What are you... oh divines, oh gods..."

Oral sex was an unknown to the Eloua, and as she moved to suck his major appendage, Sabrael lost his ability to speak her language. His surprise and pleasure spilled over from his mind to hers, while Eloua prayers and expletives stumbled from his lips. Fingers and tentacles tangled in her hair, caressed her skin. Sabrael's arousal blended with her own, and she wanted more.

She took her lips from him and looked up at his face. Sabrael stared at her in awe while he lay back. Lotus straddled his hips, smiling while his tendrils writhed on her moistened labia. Sabrael held onto his insistent organ, keeping himself under control while she grew accustomed to his smaller appendages.

His slick tentacles slipped between her lips and swirled around her clitoris. They explored her, sliding in and out of her channel, massaging and testing the tension of her anus. In seconds, they worked their way inside, and she could feel them sliding against both sides of her perineum. It was like a dozen tongues flicking over every sensitive spot all at once.

Sabrael moaned with her when she came. Bucking her hips, she brushed against the head of his major tentacle. He let go of himself, and the appendage thrust inside of her pulsating rings of muscle. While that member filled her with heat, the smaller ones were still trying to figure out what to do with a woman who wasn't Eloua. Some of them wrapped around her thighs and waist. Some continued to flick in and out of her anus. A few of them found her clitoris again, and Lotus quickly rose toward another climax.

Beyond her own cries of passion, Lotus heard Sabrael say something in his language. It was something about oneness and embarking on their new world together, but she was too far gone to pay attention to that. One of the tendrils had joined its leader on the inside. It found the nerve center that Sabrael had only ever touched with his fingers before. Reaching the crescendo of another explosive orgasm, she felt his main trunk swell within her. His cries joined hers when his fluid filled her and rushed out between them.

Slowly, his

thellimtok

relaxed and retreated into its pouch. Lotus assumed that they were through. She wanted to rinse off and go check on the ship, to make sure Luma (Lotus' pet name for the living ship) was ready for the jump across space. She started to stand up, but Sabrael caught her arm, eyes pleading with her to stay. He wrapped her in his mantle and nuzzled her neck.

He murmured words, "My precious flower, how beautiful you are." Beneath his mantle, his hand roamed over her body. His fingers briefly dipped into the mingled fluids between her thighs and he moaned softly into her skin. "We are one," he breathed.

This behavior was so odd to her. That kind of passion was wholly uncharacteristic of Sabrael, and it made Lotus feel uncomfortable. He'd never been one to linger long after a massage, even an intimate one, but it seemed he needed further comfort. She wondered if he was feeling nervous about going to Hibreon or perhaps he was unwell. When she touched his surface thoughts, she found only a residual fondness for the experience they'd just shared. He lifted his head to look at her, his eyes fixed on her mouth.