Disclaimer:
Everyone is over eighteen. If you are not deeply into fantasy pulp fiction, gender fluidity and pansexuality, you are in the wrong place.
BEHOLD! I, Thutmose-Neferkare, royal scribe, chief librarian and high priest of the divine Ra do bid thee welcome back for the ninth scroll in "The Saga of Tallia the Unwilling". In this chapter we are now firmly into what those cultists of the dark arts of "three act story structure" call "the third act". Yay and verily, does our story race towards it most epic and satisfying conclusion! But before we get to that, there is another important issue that I needs must address. This inquiry was made by an overly inquisitive sub-priest who alas had to be recently set on fire while still alive for pestering my exalted personage with too many questions. He asked, forsooth, is the magic portrayed in this tale real?
The simple answer is obviously 'no'. The sidhe are plainly not real. And of course magic invoked to the non-existent Lord and Lady of Love (a god without an animal head -- absurd!) is simple folly. Magic talking swords, three-eyed wizards and tiger-dragons -- all utter nonsense!
And yet, magic itself is obviously real. Crocodile-hippo-lions, fiery sky boats and gods with animal heads are totally real. To suppose otherwise is blasphemy and here at the Temple of Ra, we are against that. Like set-you-on-fire-to-purge-the-uncleanness-amongst-us against that. So now that that matter is settled, this does beg the question -- why does this most learned author get the existence of magic correct but the details all wrong? That I think is the real question.
Once the scholars of far antiquity struggled with this issue, but thankfully I personally have had a vision straight from the learned Thoth that has presently resolved this thorny issue. This author was in fact possessed by a demon -- in particular one that had the body of a bird and the head of a cat. Tis true! This demon did sit invisible upon his shoulder whispering into his ear all manner of falsehoods that led him into folly and error. I am certain also that this sort of demonic possessions persists even to this very day! Thanks be to the brillianty bird-brained Thoth for revealing this hidden truth unto my most exalted self.
Fortunately, we at the Temple of Ra have divined a solution. I have ordered a new line of protective scarabs graven out of a most fetching blue stone to be etched with anti-cat-bird spells and put out for sale at the temple giftshop. They are available, lo, for sale even now! Dearest disciples, I pray thee, listen not to the demon cat-bird of duplicity whispering craziness in thy ears. Get thee down to the Temple of Ra and be forever free of error and demonic influence! Do it today!
Yay, let it be written! Yay, let it be done!
Chapter Nine: Finding Her Secret Spot
Tallia awoke and once more it was dark. Was it morning or night? She had lost any sense of such matters. She only knew that she was no longer tired and could sleep no more. Liandra and Mela did not seem to agree with her on this point. The pair of the Amazon's lovers remained asleep and cuddled together beneath a cerulean silk blanket, naked and snoring softly and adorably.
There was no fire, so the only warmth she had was either from joining the pile or wrapping up further in sidhe silk. For now, she chose the clothing. They were camped on the second floor of this ruined old sidhe home and she peeked out of the window and spent several long minutes surveying the violet gloom that shrouded the grand wreck of Gaelynglas. The city was silent and still.
This was an impressive place, no doubt about that, and yet Tallia instinctually wanted to be gone as quickly as possible. The encounter with the Stone that Walks yesterday was not the only reason for this wariness. She was profoundly overcome by a sense that this was not her place. The people who had built this vast sprawl were not her people.
She then paused, taken aback by that thought. Who were her people then? What was her place? She, then a he, had been born in the city of Yaath'Xin, the son of a common whore. Tallus the Grim had fled that city years later in fear of his life. How many people back there even remembered him? And even if they remembered Tallus, what was the possibility they'd recognize Tallia as being the same person?
If that wasn't Tallia's home, what was? The Ricelands of Dao? Hardly. The people here had been fairly open with their disdain for a foreign monster hunter like her. Denggang? What little respect she had earned there, had been earned only by slaughter. Anyways, she had no desire to make that perfidious pirate port her permanent residence.
The truth was that she was homeless. Just as this colossal sprawling wreck of a city was not her home, so was it seemed that all the world was unwelcoming. Tallia the Unwelcome. The only time she had ever felt any sense of place, any notion of belonging was with...
She couldn't even think what came next. Not yet. The wound was still too raw. It had been only a day since Hilarius and her had parted ways. She understood his reasons. She did. He was probably even right. But she could not follow him. She had to see this through. She had to.
,
Liandra stirred and, as she moved, she awoke the still naked sidhe sorceress entangled with her. Liandra hugged her naked body close to the sidhe and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Tallia could tell that Mela, even though barely awake, was not entirely comfortable with this intimacy with the priestess. But she didn't exactly refuse it either. Perhaps such a genuine and uncomplicated display of love was just very new to her.
Tallia decided to rescue her sidhe lover. She scooped up Melaerryn with her mighty arms and extracted her from the silk bedroll and the affectionate priestess. The nude Mela cuddled into the Amazon's embrace and nestled within her arms. Being held such really emphasized how different in mass the pair truly were. The sidhe was slightly short, true, for some folk. Here in the Rice Lands, though, they might even call her tall. She was almost equal in height to Liandra, after all. But wherein Liandra was beautifully curvaceous, the sidhe was almost inhumanly slight, delicate and lithe. Now, held and hugged by the mighty Tallia, she looked almost like a doll.
"How are you this morning?" asked the warrior goddess to the tiny delicate sidhe sorceress.
"Stiff and a little bruised," she answered, "but also wonderful."
Tallia did inspect her bandage. The priestess' silken field dressing remained well done. But around it and where Mela had fallen on the stone, it was equally clear that she did not have a little bruise. Instead, she still had a quite large bruise across her almost entire left shoulder blade. The dark purple contusion would take days before it was gone and the stone needle's gash likely even longer. Tallia was no healer but even she could tell that.
"Any regrets?" asked Tallia, still cradling her and looking deep into her amber eyes.
"Oh, no! Last night was marvelous! Only..." her voice trailed off.
"Yes, my dear one? You can tell me anything," Tallia said.
"I hope that someday it can be just you and me," Mela whispered not wanting to hurt Liandra's feelings.
"Fret not," said Tallia in a low sultry growl, "you are mine now and soon enough I will take you once more."
