Date: Sun, 6 Sep 2015 10:56:06 +0400
From: Nell Bas <helledon12@gmail.com>
Subject: the last feres / the feri light 4
Happy reading!
The Feri Light
Chapter 4
It was a beautiful day. The sky was clear, the sun was up and so were the
hundreds of people crowding the main streets of Theran, the Capital of Wyrmer
and the shifter homeland. I could not help but marvel at all the vibrant colors, the
lively street noises, rousing smells and the ambient atmosphere, which kind of
reminded me of the time Susan, my best friend Alex's mom, took us on our first
shopping trip to a flea market back in the human realm.
I sighed contentedly at hearing the bargaining disputes taking place at every
corner. On display were goods of various kinds from spices, food items, cloths,
tapestries, utensils and even livestock.
Wren, Lyra and I walked down the streets all smiles. We had just come out of a
trading post and, thanks to Lyra, we acquired practically everything on our
shopping list. It turned out she has the ability of persuasion. Manipulating some
form of pheromone she can make you fall madly in love with her, although, it
works best if she has some sort of physical contact. I could not deny the girl had
skills. She also teleported everything we bought to Notwitt with just a click of her
fingers. How cool was that.
'I hope you're not using that skill of yours to enslave my brother?' Wren said. I
could feel his angst.
'You can rest easy. Wain knows of my little trick. It's how we met actually. I
used it on him when he thought I was the nightwalker. It turns out your brother
has been marked,' she said casually.
'Marked? What's that suppose to mean?' Wren asked.
'It's a mark that some witches used to protect their younglings from other
witches' hexes. You have one too. So you're both immune to my charms.'
Wren and I exchanged looks.
'You're immune too Rye.'
'Not a hundred percent because I felt it the first time we met,' I said recalling
the uncomfortable encounter where I became aroused by her female charms as she
put it.
'That's just it. You felt me but you resisted. Otherwise you would have been all
over me in an instant.'
That would explain a lot.
An awkward moment passed before she attempted to change the subject. 'So.
Where to next?'
'We're going to see Ferard. Rye needs a tattoo', Wren said. I guessed he did
not find her threatening anymore.
I froze and stopped walking altogether. Lyra didn't notice at first because she
was busy fanning the air around her face to get rid of the smoke from a nearby
vendor who was selling grilled meat on skewers.
'I'm not getting a tattoo,' I said loud and clear.
'What's the big deal?' Wren said oblivious to my discomfort.
'Hell, no! I'm not having some guy marking my skin,' I said.
Lyra laughed. An elderly couple stopped and stared at us.
Exasperated, Wren sighed. 'Rye, it's only a small tattoo.'
'Why are you so persistent?' I asked.
'You know why,' he whispered looking around to make sure there were no
eaves droppers, 'You have no glyph. If we're going incognito you'll need it.
Besides, there are magical means to put one on someone. So you needn't worry. I
promise no needle will be touching your skin, if that is what you're afraid of.'
So he noticed. Huh!
I released my breath not realizing that I was holding it. Alas, I could not stop
the new mantra that was playing out in my head; "I'm not afraid of needles. Yeah,
needles don't bother me at all."
'Don't worry. We'll get you a temporary one,' Lyra said.
I reluctantly followed Wren into the alley to Ferard's workshop, still a little
nervous.
'Hey Doug,' Wren said to the old man chipping away at a log on a high stool
outside the tattoo artist's front door. 'Is Ferard in?'
'Wren my boy,' the old man bellowed. He put down the hammer and chisel
before violently coughing like a man with a sixty year old's smoker lungs. He was
covered in flakes, dust and soot.
'He's inside with Roag. You can go right in but I will advise the little lady
to stay out here and keep me company.' He then looked at Lyra and said with
a smirk, 'Believe me love. You'd not like what you'd see inside.'
Lyra seemed to understand but I was not too sure I did.
'Wren, give me the list. I'll get the rest of the provisions while you do your
thing.'
'Good idea,' Wren said reaching into his pocket. He handed Lyra the piece of
paper and we both watched her turn on her heel and walk back the way we had
just come. I certainly wished I was going with her.
Old Doug inclined his head as Lyra passed by him.
Ferard's workshop was his home. It looked like the inside of an old cabin in
the wood. 'Modestly cozy' would be an understatement. I wondered when was the
last time he cleaned because there was clutter and dirty utensils strewn everywhere.
Talking about cleanliness, the spicy broth simmering at the fireplace did nothing to
mask the musty smoke odor permeating the room. On the left, in front of the
fireplace was a pelt covered armchair on a furry rug. The bedstead was by the right
wall. The other walls had shelves stacked with small vials, containers of different
sizes and more utensils. Also dried and wilted plants hung above our heads on
racks.
Unfortunately, the state of Ferard's home was nothing compared to the man
himself (Wren pointed him out to me). Long hair in disarray, grimy as a sewer rat,
he was bent forward on a large wooden table in the middle of the room with a stout
but muscular man pinning the side of his face in what appeared to be a gooey paste.
If it was not for the fact that the big guy was thrusting in and out of his ass like
a madman, I would have thought he was being bullied. But then again I may be right in
my assumption if not for Ferard's reactions.
He was moaning in delight and muttering nonsensically while the big guy
grunted like a pig. The guy, Roag, was pounding him really hard. The sounds of
flesh meeting flesh from his jabbing just about drowned out all other noises.
Wren stood stoically but I could sense the sudden change in his reaction. He
could not help himself.
So far Roag had not been vocal, but as he near his climax he kept repeating the
same lines over and over again. 'Take that you filthy piece of shit.'
He grunted. He jabbed. He pulled back. He grunted. He tensed. He shuddered.
He grimaced. And finally he flooded Ferard's ass with his seed.
'Hoo! Thanks for the exercise Roag, same time next week.' Ferard said in a
daze.
Roag just pulled up his pants, picked his tunic off the floor, and walked out the
door. He did not even attempt to acknowledge us. How rude!
As soon as he was out, my eyes returned to Ferard who was still panting like a
dog face down on the table.
'That was fun,' Wren said with humor.
'Give me a minute. Great feri! I thought I was going to pass out,' Ferard said
getting up still catching his breath. He turned to us. 'Hey, Wren.'
He looked down at his leaking semi-hard cock. 'Shit!' He muttered. He picked
up his tunic and wiped his cock dry.
'I'm sorry you had to see that. But Roag is a paying customer. I couldn't really
ask him to stop.'
'No problem. Urh, you've got something right there,' Wren said pointing
to a smudge on his face.
Ferard wiped the smudge with the tunic before pulling it over his head.
Gross! I shivered in disgust.
Now naked from the hips down, Ferard made no attempts to find his pants.
Under normal circumstance that would not bother me, but he sported a boner
while looking at my bondmate.
'So, what can I do for you, bro?' he asked Wren.
'I want you to hook me up with an ink job?'
Ferard chuckled, walked around the table and filled a goblet with some maroon
liquid which I figured was firebrew.
'I haven't touched a vile of ink since you bailed me out five years ago. Seriously,
I went straight bro. I followed your advice, so you'll be glad to know that I run a
clean business now.'
I did not know what they were talking about but I was getting annoyed. Part
of the annoyance was more to do with Ferard's apparent arousal. It offended me
somehow.
'Ahem,' I cleared my throat for some attention.
Both men looked at me as if I had just interrupted a super secret meeting.
Ferard drained his goblet and stared at me as if to say "who the hell are you?"
Wren noticed the annoyed looked on my face. He smiled. 'Ferard, this is Riley,
my bondmate. Riley, meet Ferard, an old friend of mine.'
'You're that Feres everyone keeps talking about.' I didn't respond because I
didn't know whether he was asking or stating.
Wren told him why we were there.
'You realize I'll be breaking at least seven rules by doing you this favor,' Ferard
said, now smirking at Wren.
'Why is it illegal to ink a tattoo?'
Both of them laughed. It went as proof that I knew nothing.
'Putting on a tattoo isn't illegal but Ferard here is a witch and he's a natural
with ink. Amongst other things, he can alter someone's glyph or erase a slave
bond, which is punishable by law in Targeten.'
I get it now.
'What kind of punishment did you get?' I asked Ferard.
'Twenty years working as a sex slave in a brothel. Fortunately, I did only two
months before Wren here pulled me out. He got me a pardon and everything.'
That explained why he kept calling Wren bro instead of shoving him out of the
door. Then he never did stop whoring did he?
Before I could ask anymore question Wren spoke. 'Better do this before
trouble finds us.'
Ferard nodded. He put down his mug on the table and asked me to sit by the
table and roll up my left sleeve.
I exposed my wrist while he went to get a vial from the shelf next to his
bed. I felt disgusted putting my arm where he just had sexual intercourse. But I
swallowed my discomfort and did it nonetheless.
'It can be painful if you already have a glyph but for you there won't be any
pain.'
His dick was now soft but it was still so close that I actually recoiled in my seat.
Reluctantly, I watched him pour some of the cold dark liquid on my forearm.
The ink did not drip, rather it clung to my skin like morning dew on a leaf. Waving
his hand over it, the ink sank into my skin and moved to match his movement. As
the ink moved, it felt as if someone was rubbing a cold steel spoon over my skin.
'What kind of glyph would you like on there? A bonder like the one you have?'
He asked Wren.
'Chipper,' Wren quibbled.
'Chipper?' I asked with a frown.
'It would be easier if we conceal the bond that tied us together during our
quest. For example if we're captured, they won't use it to their advantage as they
would if they knew we were bondmates. Believe me I've seen it done.'
I complied because what he said make sense.
I watched Ferard shape the ink into a perfect chipper glyph. It looked so real
that I couldn't stop looking at it even after he was done.
'My turn,' Wren said.
He took my place and I watched Ferard change his bonder glyph into a
chipper glyph. Wren hissed and winced. The pain was real. I could see it all over his
face. But I got jealous when Ferard touched him to assure him that he was doing
fine. I did not do anything rash because Wren was either ignoring him or blind to
his advance.
'Okay. These changes are temporary. And if my calculations are right they will
start to fade in about three weeks,' Ferard said when he was done with Wren.
'Any cautions?' Wren asked.
'Yeah. Avoid strong emotions because it creates hormonal imbalances in the
body that might destabilize the ink.'
'What about exposure to inhibitor crystals?' I asked. I just remembered Stryker
mentioning it in our last group discussion.
Ferard grinned. 'It's not going to be a problem. The ink is eighty percent
azurite. It can withstand the effects of an inhibitor crystal.'
'All right. How much do we owe you Ferard?' Wren asked reaching for the
gold coins in his pocket.
Ferard put up his hands in front of his chest. 'For you bro, it's free of charge.
You pulled me out of a bad situation so consider us even.'
'Are you sure?'
'I'm sure, although, I do have an itch right up my butt that I can't reach. If
you're...' He did not finish because Wren cut him off.
'I wish I could help you but I'm in a monogamous relationship,' Wren said
laughing. I on the other hand was not laughing. This guy has the balls to
proposition my bondmate right in front of me.
Ferard snickered. 'You can't blame a guy for trying. You're smoking hot.'
Wren hugged him and we walked out.
'You don't like Ferard, do you?' Wren asked me as we made our way out of the
neighborhood.
'Yeah. He's a weirdo.'
Wren laughed.
'He is. Did you know that his parents are rich?'
I frowned. 'Then what the hell is he doing in this dump?'
'His father disowned him when he was found guilty of selling drugs via
his ink work, and the fact that he is a lazy son who spent most of their
income on lavish parties and free drugs to his friends.'
It was good that Wren stayed a true friend to Ferard but the guy was on
a path of self destruction. I did not want Wren to get involve with such a
person.
.......................................
End of chapter 4