*This story plays fast and loose with Ancient History, numerous Mythologies and Linguistics; be warned*
*Professional, conscript, or volunteer – they all have run away from battle.*
*Editing magic performed by KJ24 and Shyqash, plus contributions by the regular gang of brigands and neer-do-wells*
A Note on terminology and the metaphor of Cael's World
The terms
Weave of Fate
and '
Weave
' are interchangeable. Weave expresses the intersection ~ the sieve that all the possible futures entered to create what we perceive as this 'now'. Fate is the keeper of the sieve. The
Present
is what is happening right now. It is that infinitesimal which we interpret as
Reality
.
The
Legend
is what happens when the present is pulled back through the weave and becomes the past. It is called the Legend because, as the former presents fade into the past, they blur; each becomes less precise and more open to interpretations. (It is as if you were looking at one thing through a prism; as you shift your stance, what you see appears to change.) Within the Legend exist mystic creatures, divinities, demons, spirits, all the Paradises and Hells.
The
Endless Black Sands
is the final resting place for all failed legends. It is the place where all is forgotten until even former realities break down into the Black Sands. That Alal found a way to cheat this doom and retrieved Shammuramat, was truly remarkable; even though Fate 'balanced accounts' with him by sending Ajax and his war band along that path as well.
If you wonder how that was a balancing, consider this:
The only people Alal cares for (in his own brutal fashion) are Shammy, now Sakura, and his only true offspring in 5,000 years, Cáel.
Fate sent Ajax.
With Ajax available to test Cáel, how could Alal resist the temptation to place one of the planet's greatest killer on a collision course with both of his loves in order to test Cáel?
The
Veil
is a function of the Weave that protects sentient perception from perceiving the Weave and disguises the otherness of creatures of legend, unless they willingly allow themselves to be seen, which they usually do only so they can 'physically' interact with the Present. Some sentient minds, through horrific trauma such as the Augurs' self- poisonings , through the quirks of Fate via Holy Men, Mad Prophets and Doomsayers such as Temujin, or through the touch of legends such as Ishara, can sense the fluctuations in the Veil and the things behind it. Cáel, in truth, has been shaped by all three vehicles (Ishara, the Augurs and Temujin's legend.)
Oblivion
is what awaits Reality if the Weave ever fails beyond its ability to heal itself. This threat is what keeps the creatures of legend from constantly traversing the Weave. They have to weaken the Weave to do so or to use powers in Reality – the greater the distortion they create, the greater the weakening that occurs.
End Note
(Two days ago, with thirty days left)
"That was fantastic, Lady Yum-Yum," I sighed.
"What did you just call me?" she panted softly. We were naked in one of our Task Force bedrooms that was actually used for sleeping...and now sex. My cock was still inside her love box, despite our recent exertions. She was on her stomach, arms stretched down her sides.
She was sweaty and short of breath. She still had her wits about her and an awareness of our situation: victory sex, me still aroused and her fingernails scratching my thighs and buttocks. My equally sticky body was pressing down on her, even though I supported my weight with outstretched hands placed on either side of her shoulders.
"Lady Yum-Yum," I mumbled as I kissed the back of her head. "That was the first thing that sprang to mind when you introduced yourself." I could see her working that through her highly complex mind.
"When writing your memoirs, please remember to me refer to me that way," she began to flex her thighs and abdominal muscles, so that her ass was pumping against my hips.
"Only if this helps persuade you to give me a repeat performance."
"I'll consider ...," she purred, then paused to catch her breathe. "You are in phenomenal shape, young man. Do any of your other lady-loves have pet names?"
"Nope," I grunted as I withdrew my cock and eased it upward so that my shaft was rubbing up and down on her anus.
She had teased me with anal sex hints repeatedly, yet never delivered. She liked the game and the power she wielded. My body being on top of hers was only an illusion of a tactical advantage. She knew me pretty well already. I wasn't the kind of guy who would use physical strength to overwhelm her vulnerable position. This being so, a cerebral skirmish only excited her more.
We waged a war that was based on intakes of breath, the shimmying of muscles and the trembling of fatigued flesh. The prize for me was the winning. Lady Fathom Worthington-Burke played tricky-clever, but I was better. And at times like this, she admitted it. She gave me what I wanted. I rolled her over and slid my cock back between her drenched labia.
Straight, face-to-face fucking. The Lady's pulsar gaze trapped my vision. She smiled, grudgingly at first, then more and more sensually as my glans returned to her g-spot that it had scouted out earlier. This was 'surrender by the Fathom method'. She gave me what I wanted, so I took what I wanted ... and pleasured her at the same time.
"Mmmm... you are a bad, bad boy," she lapsed into her trashy West-End Londoner accent. It was perfect and an erotic whiplash when added to her native, refined manner of speech. This wasn't a trick this time – it was a treat. It was a gift, reciprocated with my best cock-throb as I plunged all the way in. The tactile sensation of her cervix becoming a soft, spongey chalice for my final penetrations was icing on an all-so-luscious cake.
I tendered her a tribute worthy of my first love, Dr. Kimberly Geisler. It was strange to find a woman like her. Outside of Kimberly, I had found only one other woman who graciously offered her ultimate pleasure paean to the hundreds of lovers who had become before. That other woman ... it still floored me ... was Buffy Du ... no, Buffy Ishara, First of my House.
"Oh!" and several heartbeats later, "Cáel!" several hissed series of breathes and then, "GODDESS, YOU ARE BETTER THAN GOOD!"
Two thoughts collided within me:
A) I had never seen a more controlled orgasmic explosion in my life. I was going to have to tell Buffy about this ...once we were safely in bed. If it was office talk, she'd punch me through a window and that would make Aya cry. I couldn't have that.
B) Goddess? I thought she was Anglican. This needed further study. This treatment was really nice. I leaned in, kissed her. Lady Yum-Yum smiled. "Take me to the shower. Play time is over, Cáel," and she was back to all business.
"You are treating me like a fleshy vibrator," I pointed out.