Getting Lost

Getting Lost

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

Getting Lost 1-3,

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

**********

Raelinholm

The following evening, Lotus and Sabrael joined the ylf'nim. They had a small cart to tow a few of their belongings. Sem and Pol handled the cart, while Abo carried a large box in his arms. He was slow and careful, his powerful tail slithering smoothly in the track made by the cart. Lotus walked beside him for a while and finally asked, "Why are you carrying that, Abo? Just put it on the cart. What is it anyway?"

"I don't know." Abo lied to her. At her long and mild (and very Eloua-like) stare, he seemed to shrink inside himself. "You'll have to ask Sabrael."

Lotus quickened her steps to catch up with her mentor. "Why are you making Abo carry that? There's plenty of room on the cart."

He gave her his patient little smile. "You needn't concern yourself with that. The sil is able to carry the delicate equipment more safely than it bouncing along on the cart. Abo's fine. Let him alone."

"What delicate equipment?" she asked. As far as Lotus knew, the only tools they needed to study the ylf'nim were their own minds.

Sabrael laughed softly. "One of the many things I've learned to adore in you is your insatiable curiosity. The equipment in that crate is for emergency use. Just a precautionary measure, my flower. We'll never need to open it."

She turned around to walk backward for a minute, contemplating the sil and his crate. Lotus persisted, "If we don't need it, why are we bringing it?"

He stopped and took her arm. Drawing her close, he pulled his fingers through her hair and touched her face. "Oh Lotus, just concern yourself with your own works, hmm? Just be the Oracle and the priestess that we need you to be."

When she was a child and he'd tired of her questions, he would say, "Why don't you be a little girl for now and go play with your toys." What he'd just said to her sounded like much the same thing. Oracles should know what's in boxes, she thought. But Sabrael was not in the mood, so she let it go.

She paused just outside the keep at Raelinholm. With a feeling of sickening awe, she surveyed the archer towers, thick walls, crude ballistae, trenches full of sharpened poles, and gates that required the power of several men to crank them open. During her century with the Eloua, Lotus became accustomed to the open and seemingly carefree structure on the Arcadian islands. This ylf'nim keep was more like the fortresses of the Infernal Tempest, and the sight of it was cause for trepidation. Without even knowing she'd done it, Lotus reached out and took Sabrael's hand.

She asked, "Why do they have such fortifications?"

He drew her to his side and put his arm around her, sheltering her in the comfort of his mantle. "The sentient beings of this world are divided, fighting for resources and power. These ylf'nim feel the need to guard themselves against those who would take what they have."

She frowned and shook her head, "But this world is full of resources. There's plenty for everyone."

He nodded, "Yes, Lotus, and the power they want is simply a delusion. As I've said, this world needs to learn grace and peace. They need the divines. They need us!" He grinned at her and briefly hugged her closer to him.

She had begun to wonder what sort of power delusions Sabrael might be suffering. Suddenly, the comfort of his mantle felt heavy, smothering. A vision of slow suffocation made her want to run from him. Lotus silently prayed to the gods to give her some sense of clarity. Though she tried to banish it form her mind, the nagging little fear wouldn't leave her.

Sensing her discomfort, he paused in their approach and turned to face her. Sabrael took both of her hands in his. "You are a priestess—

my

priestess. You have nothing to fear from these people, for we are evolved. We

are

Divines, you and I."

She thought he was simply reiterating the roles he had designed for the two of them to play while among the ylf'nim. His eyes were sincere, though, and Lotus further suppressed her anxiety.

With a frown of concern, Sabrael caressed the left side of her face, exposing the ends of his

thellim

to gently brush the marks there. "You needn't fear, love. This civilization is young and confused. This is not the hell you knew as a little girl. But it could be, if we don't help them." The tips of his

thellim

locked into her, and a warm balm soothed the swelling ache of fear.

He was right. She needn't be afraid. Sabrael would take care of everything, just as he'd always done. The people of Hibreon needed her help, and there was work to be done. Sabrael's thumb caressed the genuine smile at her lips. He said, "Ah, there's my lovely water flower. That's better, isn't it?" And it was better.

Once inside, they were greeted by the king and his royal entourage. King Azerrul introduced his wife, Kerra, and his sons, Malevaur and Dakath. Lotus pretended that she and Dakath were only just meeting for the first time. The prince played along, but all while his eyes pleaded with her for an explanation. Her title as high priestess of the Divines gave Dakath an expression as if he choked on something, though he kept his opinions to himself.

For the next several days, Lotus was busy setting herself up as Sabrael's priestess. The primitive ylf'nim provided a "temple" that was little more than a glorified tent. The conditions didn't bother her as much as Sabrael, who kept assuring her that a more suitable structure would be constructed in time. Lotus felt she might even enjoy the situation as a sort of adventure, if she didn't have to be the center piece to her mentor's folly.

During her time with Sabrael, she was schooled in how she was expected to conduct herself. Though Dakath's mage-craft was untrusted by most, her style of divine casting was supposedly acceptable. She was to use her magic for healing as she saw fit. Her clairvoyance was for those who asked, but she was only permitted to give them the barest trivial information. Psychic empathy was to be used in secret on the nobility alone, and whatever she gleaned was to be kept between herself and Sabrael. "So," she said, "I'm a spy?"

"Not at all. It is only for the betterment of our counsel. We are here to help move these people forward to a spiritual and cultural evolution. How can we help them if they themselves do not even recognize their own struggles?" He leaned in, peering beyond her eyes and into her soul. With a tone suggesting a selfishness on her part, he asked, "You do want to help them, don't you? Are you feeling anxious, love?"

He raised his hand and extended the tips of his

thellim

. Suddenly, Lotus didn't want him to touch her. She drew back with a sharp, "No!" She hadn't intended such vehemence, and the wounded look on his face made her feel bad about her tone. To soothe him, she suppressed her moment of revulsion and took his hand. The tendrils of his palm retreated, and she forced a smile. "I'm fine, Sabrael."

He drew her into the embrace of his mantle, a warm and light place that had been so comforting once. Now, even while she pressed her cheek to his chest, she pondered the sensation of suffocating there. Nearly overwhelmed by a sudden sadness tinged with fear, she denied her tears, committed to the act that everything was just fine.

In time, she and Sabrael settled into their roles. He generally stayed within the walls of the keep, making an occasional divine appearance whenever he felt it necessary. As his mouthpiece, Lotus' subtle maneuverings and manipulations sickened her. So long as the ylf'nim people weren't hurt by it, she did her mentor's bidding.

Sem, Abo, and Pol stayed with him, while Lotus was granted a handful of ylf'nim servants to assist her. Lotus' healing and counseling made her a valuable asset to the people of Raelinholm. She quickly came to love them, and they her, but every evening she dutifully made her report to Sabrael.

Azerrul and Kerra took their counsel directly from Sabrael, while the rest of the community went to Lotus. She got to know almost everyone, though both princes avoided her. Malevaur was known for his open distrust for any magic, so it seemed clear to her why he stayed away. Word from everyone else was that he didn't believe Sabrael's claim to divinity, and he trusted her about as much. Lotus supposed Dakath kept his distance in support of her position as priestess. She'd catch rare glimpses of him, and every glance from him conveyed the same messages: "What the Infernal is going on here?" And, "We need to talk."

*****

The closer he got to Azerrul and the elves, the more Sabrael realized he had a lot of work to do. Not only were the king's people fighting amongst themselves over the morality of magic use, they were also entrenched in a cold stalemate with humans who lived half a continent away. It was an asinine bitterness over racial differences. To Sabrael, both elves and humans were just two troops of apes throwing their feces at one another for supremacy. In time, they would all know the same master.

His only respite was time spent with his priestess. Her efforts to enmesh herself within the community had been flawless. He was proud of the way he'd groomed her for this place, and he could ask for no better partner. With Lotus as his mouthpiece, his influence would soon spread across the kingdoms, and all Hibreon would be theirs.

If he had a complaint, it's that Lotus was too good at her role. His beloved mate was constantly distracted. She still accepted his gifts, and she seemed pleased with the elf made trinkets and clothes. She took his

thellimtok

when he offered, but he couldn't help but notice that she never asked. Lotus had always enjoyed sexual contact, yet there was a change in her. Her body was present, but her mind and spirit were often absent.

He found himself nostalgic for Lotus' laughter, her silly games, and even her pranks. Ensconced in her position as priestess, she was too often serious. Sabrael was concerned that she'd pushed herself too hard. Living among the primitives seemed to be fading his beautiful flower. Then again, he had commanded her to behave. Perhaps she was only doing as she was told.

Lotus was busy, he told himself, busy with the work he had given her. Of course, he didn't know what else she got up to during the day while he slept. He was aware of her sexual play with her sil servant, and he didn't begrudge her for it. He wondered if she was experimenting with the ylf'nim, sating both her curiosity and her libido.

His Lotus loved him with all the devotion he deserved. What his mate did with her flesh while she was apart from him was her own business, so long as her love was for him alone. Doubts still crept into his thoughts though. If she truly loved him, why did she keep her innermost self from him?

He could force his way into her head, tear through her defenses, and expose the stuff of her soul. The etiquette instilled in him since his hatching forbid such a thing, but Sabrael had breached Elouan morality more than once. He could hurt her, damage her mind in ways that could be irreparable, and that was something Sabrael couldn't bring himself to do. So, though it pained him, he allowed his flower to keep her secrets.

*****

Lotus had just returned to her room after meeting with Sabrael. She'd barely begun to get out of her dress, when her door suddenly flew open and slammed shut again. It startled her so much she jumped and emitted a little squeak. Then Dakath's voice uttered, "Oh, sorry I scared you. I didn't mean to. Uh, just give me another second or two here."

While he spoke, his form slowly returned to her visual spectrum. He gave her a prideful grin, saying, "Ah, there we are now. Invisibility! Pretty good trick, right? Took me weeks to get it right, and it only works for a minute. But it's still good, yeah?"

Lotus' startlement dissolved into giggles. "Yes, Dakath, it's a very good trick."

"Great for sneaking into a beautiful priestess' boudoir. You know," he continued sardonically, "now that I mention it, maybe we should talk about that."

"What?" she asked. "The boudoir? It's lovely. I'm quite comfortable here, thank you."

He raised a brow and smirked at her. "Oh good. I'll be delighted to pass that along to the chamberlain, just as soon as you tell me what's really going on around here.

"You, being some kind of priestess or something? Sure, I can see that. And my idiot parents can believe whatever they want, but Mr. Gangly-glow-in-the-dark is not a god. So there. That's what I know. Bet you can fill in some blanks for me."

Lotus lowered her head and said, "Sit down."

He remained standing. "Is that a fill in the blank? Because that's a weird answer. It's almost as weird as a light-up fish guy."

Hands on her hips, she scolded, "Look, if you want answers, then behave yourself. Put your butt on that bed, close your mouth, and listen."

"Wow. I had no idea you could be so bossy." He sat down and grinned at her again. "I like it, I think."

She put a finger to his lips, drew close to his face, and said, "Hush."

Around the gentle pressure on his lips, he mumbled some advice. "Works better if you kiss them."

She sighed and stepped back. "Did you sneak in here for answers or canoodling?"

"Yes," he said, "to both."

"Has anyone ever mentioned that you're a pain in the neck?"

"Of course they have. But am I your pain in the neck, or is he?" His expression conveyed his desire to keep things light, but the undertone of his words revealed a serious need for clarification.

After a pause, Lotus answered truthfully. "Yes. To both."

Dakath's smile faded somewhat, but he seemed to make a decision. He kicked his boots off, lay back against the pillows, and folded his hands over his chest. In a serious tone, he said, "Okay, I'm listening."

Lotus began at the beginning. She told him of her time in the Infernal Tempest, of her rescue by the Eloua, and her life with Sabrael. At some point, he sat straight up, a look of bewilderment on his face. Still, she kept on with her story. She described the

Nephilumen

and her journey from Arcadia, ending with Sabrael's mission among the people of Raelinholm.

She hadn't intended to tell him so much, but once the truth started coming out, she couldn't stop it. Lotus felt good to tell it all. When she was done, she was lighter, and the air was easier to breathe.

Dakath stared at her for what seemed like several minutes. She wanted to give him time to process, but his gaze began to make her feel uncomfortable. "Say something," she pleaded.

"That's insane. Everything you just said is completely,

insanely

, impossible. It's crazier than a walking talking candlestick parading about town as he claims his own godhood."

"But I'm telling you the truth!"

"Oh, I know. I know you are, and you've got to understand, Lotus. You just fucked my mind over in ways that shouldn't be. People from other worlds, living ships that sail between stars— to think the Infernal Tempest is an actual place, and not just a concept. What am I supposed to think of all that?"

"I-I don't know. I'm sorry?" She sat on the edge of the bed and put her hand on his knee. She wanted to see into his thoughts, but she wouldn't pry into Dakath's mind as she had others.

"You ought to be." His words stung her, and he quickly added, "Not for telling the truth. But for this little game you're playing with Sabrael. What you're doing to these people is wrong, and I think you know that already. Now, the question is this— will you do something about it, or shall I?"

"I've done good things here," she argued. "I don't want to stop helping people, and I don't want to have to leave. I like it here, and I love your people."

He smiled gently and leaned towards her. He touched her ear and the line of her jaw. Quietly, he said, "Whoever you are, wherever you're from, just look at you. You're ylf'nim, Lotus. My people are your people. Besides," he frowned and lay back again. "We're not all that great."

"What do you mean?"

"We're a bunch of narrow-minded pricks, actually." He sighed and explained, "I went rounds today with my brother and his cronies over the evils of studying magic—

again

, I might add. Anyway, I'm trying to say that throwing an alien who wants to play god into this bag of nuts is not really helpful right now."

"So, you're not mad at me?"

He laughed and sat up. Taking her hands in his, he kissed her fingers. "Lotus, I'm so in love with you, I wouldn't know how to get mad if I wanted to. Just make this right, okay? Please?"

"I'll try to talk to Sabrael, but give me some time. He can be unreasonable."

Dakath searched her face and asked, "Does he hurt you?"

"No, the Eloua are never violent." Even as she said it, she thought of all her things that had mysteriously broken and vanished over the years, of all the excuses for her ransacked room. Then again, Sabrael had never struck her. He took care of her. She concluded, "They don't hurt anyone."

He continued to stare at her as if he didn't believe her. The thought of an argument with Sabrael made her belly ache. She realized that she was, on some level, afraid of him. Her next words flew from her lips before she could stop them. "If I have to leave, if I have to get away from him for a while, will you help me? Would you come with me?"

Dakath said, "You

are

afraid of him. Lotus, if he's hurting you, you need to tell me. I'll help you any way I can." He thought about it for a minute then added, "And yeah, if you need to run, I'm with you."

He held her hands loosely in his own while gazing into her eyes, and Lotus wanted to kiss him and more. She'd felt desire before, but this was something different. Her want for Dakath wasn't about the usual sexual gratification, or even the simple comfort of intimate physical contact. It wasn't about sating a curiosity of how it would feel for him to pleasure her body. Lotus wanted Dakath with her soul, because for the first time in her life, she was truly in love.

This time, there was nothing clumsy in the way their lips met. When they kissed, Lotus felt something profound come to life. It was no spark to flare and fade, but a steadfast light that grew brighter and stronger in every moment she spent with him. Tongues entwined, and hands parted only to slowly and tenderly explore the new territory of one another's bodies. There was a temerity in the way he touched her. She wondered if he was inexperienced.

Lotus untied the laces of Dakath's shirt, and he helped her pull the cloth over his head. She adjusted her position and pressed him back against the pillows as she straddled his hips. He gasped, his face in awe, when she pulled her gown off. The scrollwork of her alien tattoos branched like vines over a breast and down the left side of her body to curl around a hip and down her thigh. His right hand gently traced those glowing lines.

He met her gaze again and said, "Lotus, I don't— I don't just do this. Gods, you're so fucking beautiful, and I want you. But I'm all in this. I'm in love with you, and if you don't feel the same, I can't do this. Not with you."

She lowered her body over his, his hands roaming up the length of her back and into her hair. Lotus nuzzled Dakath's nose with hers and smiled into his eyes. "I love you, Dakath." She kissed him, softly, deeply. When they parted she whispered, "I'm all in this, too."

He kissed her with far more passion than he had previously. His hands now moved with confident purpose, finding and thrilling every sensitive place on her skin. In moments, his lips and tongue joined the journey his fingers took. Lotus tasted the subtle salt of his skin, her own hands clutching at his shoulders, playing in the tousled length of his silken hair. Never had she taken so much delight in the body of another, and Lotus still wanted more.