Date: Mon, 09 May 2005 02:32:41 -0500
From: Merle Windsor <geo_carbuncle@hotmail.com>
Subject: Fireflies from the Darkness part 1
This is my second story for this section, and even though it doesn't have
anything directly sexual yet, that will evolve. I wanted to set up a nice
fluffy exterior before I did anything "hard". It's also in second-person
for now, but it may or may not change after the initial set-up. If you have
any suggestions/comments/questions/concerns feel free to send an e-mail to
geo_carbuncle@hotmail.com.
DISCLAIMER: Yes, well, if you don't like male-male action...This is
definitely the wrong part of the site to be on anyway, but I have no
responsibility for your actions. (Like I really would anyway? We're all
responsible for ourselves.) If it's illegal to view this story, it's a
shame, but I'd advise you away from it. That being said, if you can enjoy
it, please do.
=============================================================================
Please, have a seat. Don't worry, you're no more of an imposition
on me than anybody else who comes to visit. You must be lost! The first
time I came here I was almost executed for that same misfortune. I'm glad
the Elves have lightened up a bit.
What? Oh. You're probably wondering why a human alchemist would be
found in the middle of the tree-city of Kal'Zhan, right? The gleam in your
eyes deceives you. No, I'm not Elven nor have even the tracest of Elven
blood coursing through my veins. I'm here by honor and honor alone.
Oh, I see. You've heard THOSE rumors. Well, if you'll promise not
to tell anyone, I'll share with you the true story--seedy bits and
all. Here, have a mug of this. The story will take a while.
***
It was a calm, still night in the city of Galentheria. Not a sound
could be heard throughout the entire city save for the gentle chirps of
tired crickets. After a year of bloody war, it seemed to finally be at
rest-- not that I particularly cared which side won. It all seemed so
pointless to me. Countless homes, forests, towns, and respectable
businesses were all torn asunder by a force that could be described simply
as greed.
The night the fighting stopped I was doing the exact same thing I
was doing the night the fighting started: working. I'm not an idle person,
you know. I believe I was working on the transmutation project again, but I
can't help but think I was taking a distillation of White Hellebore for
Widow Leslia's cat. Then again-
Oh. Right. Well, it was later in the evening; I suppose ten or so.
I was ready to pour a small vial of Hebona--that's what it was,
Hebona--into a beaker to heat on a small plate. Just then, a huge trumpet
call rang throughout the city and I dropped it right onto the floor. Both
vial and beaker shattered into a thousand pieces, and wouldn't you guess it
was a new beaker! I was furious. In my rage, I stomped out the door and
noticed that the citizens had gathered into an impromptu parade and were
marching down the cobblestone, waving red and gold flags and banging pots
and pans.
"Hey there," a voice slurred from the crowd. A figure drunkenly
made his way to me and placed his filthy hand on my shoulder. It was none
other than Galsa Thendrick.
Galsa was a horrible drunk but an otherwise intelligent man. When
he could stop to put down the bottle and engage in discussions of
mathematical theory I even felt intellectually challenged--and that's very
hard to do. Of course, that assumed that he was sober. That didn't happen
often.
Regardless, the idiot had his greasy paw all over my green
tunic. I don't pride myself on what I wear, but after all, it was the
principle.
"You souse," I said, batting away his hand. "What in the name of
the four elements do you think you're doing?"
"You're shoooooo funneh!" he said, tilting from side to side in a
parody of a real dance. "The ladehs must looooooove ya."
In all frankness, the ladies did not love me. I had no interest in
them and they had no interest in me. It would have come along eventually,
but I'm a River.
***
What? What don't you understand? The `River' part? I suppose it
deserves some sort of explanation.
Normally, humans and Elves alike are kept animated by a spiritual
energy. This energy, which I've alchemically documented, is a fascinating
concept. I've spent the past 5 years here observing its effects and I
can't say I'm any closer to unraveling its mysteries.
Anyhow, this energy sometimes makes things different from normal.
My eyes, for example, are quite brown. That's normal to me. However, with
everyone else--especially the Elves--I'd imagine it's out of the ordinary
for them.
Well what does that have to do with rivers? Nothing! Like I said,
the energy makes things different. It's "normal" for a male to be attracted
to females and females attracted to males. Sometimes there is a fluke in
the energy which I call a stream. Yes, stream. That causes a male to be
attracted to other males and so on. Those that have that stream I call
`Rivers'.
Oh? You are? Well, that's good to know. Now you know why. Moving
on.
***
I managed to beat away Galsa's repeated attempts at getting me to
join the celebration when I returned inside to my laboratory. I silently
cursed the jubilation held by the denizens of the city--they were quite
annoying. That being said, I went back to work and managed to complete the
experiment.
Nonwithstanding that it was a failure, I would have stumbled to
bed. All things considered, I probably should have. Heh-heh. Either way,
Fate wouldn't have it.
A bright twinkle caught the corner of my eye and pulled the rest
into sight. My satchel of harvesting tools--so expensive to find a good
set nowadays--was being levitated by a small group of blue firefly
creatures. I had never seen blue fireflies before, and I was therefore
naturally curious. Before my curiosity led me any further, however, the
group of fireflies formed a small circle around the pouch and spirited it
out my window.
My scientific fascination abruptly turned to shock. The fireflies
were obviously some sort of ruse. I sprinted out the door and after the
illuminated pouch. My travels took me right down the cobblestone to the
edge of a great field. Knowing that the field was safe at dark, I pursued
even further, panting with exhaustion. Somehow I lost track of distances
and surroundings because I eventually ended up at the edge of a deep
forest. Well, the only deep forest. This forest, as a matter of fact. The
Zi'La.
There's something you have to know about the Forest of Zi'La: The
forest itself is only a magical manifestation of the Elvish energy
inside. Like lake-ripples from a stone, the forest will mutate and alter
from any disturbance on the inside. Of course, there is only one thing on
the inside of this forest: Kal'Zhan.
I know, it doesn't seem like much, but believe it or not it's the
last stronghold of the Sylvan Elves.
***
What? Oh, you want to know about Elven history. Well, there's not
honestly much I know. The culture and living styles of the different
varieties, however, I do know.
First of all are the Sylvan Elves, which you have had the
pleasure--or displeasure--of meeting today. I admit, they can be a little
self-righteous about their "Code" and "Natural Laws", but when it comes
down to it they're the only group that could give more than a damn about
humans. Why do I live among them? Well, because they accept me,
naturally--and I accept them. They're quite beautiful, I must say. Hearty,
stately beings.
The next group are the High Elves. They're not nearly as much
self-righteous as they are downright pompous. Saying the High Elves are a
little overbearing is like saying that an open bonfire is a little
warm. Heh, liked that one, didn't you? Anyway, they're not my kind of
people. They talk about justice and "The Light" as if they know directly
what they are. Oh, sure they're gorgeous, but there's more than looks, you
know.
The final group are the Dark Elves. They are the scariest and most
violent, hands down. It seems that in the same way that the High Elves are
obsessed with "Light", the Dark Elves are obsessed with "Dark". I think
they're all charlatans. They rule with fear to further their own goals and
"Dark" is a pretty standard name for it. I won't mince words, though, if
there is a True Darkness or True Evil, I'm sure they've found it.
What? The Sun and Moon Elves? Well, I can't say I've met a lot of
them. There are a handful that take refuge here, but from what I gather
they're spurned from every other Elven city. The Sun Elves I've met are all
happy, cute fellows that don't do a whole lot besides frolic. More power to
them for that. The Moon Elves are their polar opposites doing nothing but
brooding all day and staying awake at night. I hear they have salacious
orgies in the moonlight, but I can't say I've seen it. Of course, I can't
say I find them particularly unattractive so a sight like that--
Oh. My original story. Right. Where was I?
***
The Forest of Zi'La is a dangerous place, but not nearly as
dangerous if you know what you're doing. Many a novice adventurer has made
a pilgrimage into the forest never to be seen again. That's how it is with
those silly adventurers. They think they're invincible. They have no regard
for the Dreadbeasts that haunt the area or the Pyreplants that will burn
you alive. No respect, no foresight.
At this time, the blue fireflies floated precariously on the edge
of the woods, just daring me to enter the darkened forest. I don't know if
it was a brief lapse of common sense or simply a sort of greed, but I
sprinted after the azure lights into the forest. I wanted those tools.
As soon as I was a considerable distance into the forest, I became
aware of chirping and howling. I didn't know it at the time, but they were
simply magical illusions designed to protect the Sylvan Elves. Because I
didn't know this, of course, I was petrified. I plodded on, though, panting
heavily all the way. I wasn't very athletic and I'm still not.
As I moved closer to the fireflies, I became more frightened of
the area. It was filled with various nasties that would love nothing more
than to tear me limb from limb. That thought alone drove me into a panic,
but then I realized that I would be treading into sacred Sylvan
territory. As soon as the thought dropped into my mind, I felt a sharp
sting on my right shoulder. As I became sleepier, I only prayed that the
Sylvan Elves would have mercy.
I recall being very warm when I awoke. My eyes fluttered
open and I couldn't help but be a little alarmed. I was in a small hut of
some sort. The walls were made of simple sticks and leaves, but the
arrangement made brilliant patterns that would make the richest nobleman
jealous. The floor was made of the same materials, I assumed, though it was
soft and actually very comfortable. I had to admit it was the nicest place
I had ever been a hostage in.
"Hey," I suddenly heard someone say. "You're finally awake."
In the corner, where my eyes had blurred, I saw an Elven man stand
proudly. I suppose he had been leaning against the wall, but my bleary eyes
hadn't quite noticed him. I swallowed hard and responded quietly.
"Where am I?"
He laughed a bit, and I didn't blame him. I was in a tattered
tunic lying on the floor at his feet, reeling like a drunkard. When my eyes
finally came into focus, my breath escaped in a rush.
Elves, I thought, were all grace and stature and loved to look
beautiful. I had never seen one look strong. The Sylvan Elves, I had
quickly realized, were much more hearty than your average Elves. The one
that stood before me had tanned, earthy skin with a figure closer to a
brawler than an Elf. His muscles rippled with strength, and the only
clothing he wore was an animal-hide wrap that tightly encircled his
waist. A large, black tattoo arched from his chest up to his neck. His dark
eyes gleamed as he smiled.
"You're in Kal'Zhan," he said in a low, sonorous voice. "What were
you doing in the woods?"
"My tools," I said, still in awe. "They took-"
The door, which I had not seen, swung open and another Sylvan Elf
strode through. This one, I noticed, was not as overtly muscular as he was
toned. Sleek. Built for running and a swift kill. His eyes were the same
dark color and other than a scarlet sash, wore the same fur wrap around his
waist. I quickly realized that the Sylvan Elves must have had few codes of
modesty.
"You," commanded the Elf with a sash. His voice was deep, but
airy. "State your name."
I quickly scrambled to my feet and began to stammer.
"My name is Silden Ghanen. If there's anything I've done wrong, I
had no intention to!" The two Elves looked bored. I rambled to save my
life. "I was looking for my custom harvesting tools because I'm an
alchemist and these fireflies came-"
"Wait," said the burly one. "You're an alchemist?"
"Yes," I responded, wincing.
"Just a minute," said the smaller one. They disappeared from the
room for a good ten or twelve minutes before they both returned. Their
manner was easier and less terse.
"Normally," said the smaller one, "we'd kill you on the spot for
violating the sanctity of our woodland home. However, there is something we
think you can help us with."
"Anything!" I blurted, hoping it wouldn't end up with me dead.
"The Chief," began the burly one, "fell ill and passed into the
Earth two full moons ago. His son, Saelin, has taken command of the Sylvan
Elves, but has fallen into a deep sickness." He began to shift
slightly. "We need you to help us."
"I would be happy to," I said, relieved. "I will do all I can to
help him."
The one with the blood-colored sash eyed me suspiciously and made
a motion to follow him.
"Try to escape, and you're dead."
On that happy note, I followed the smaller one through Kal'Zhan.
The city sprawled out through the forest and it was a surprise to the
senses. The sights and smells alone wrapped themselves around my head
before the breeze and the taste of the summer air hit my tongue. I was
quite enamored with the place.
After walking a decent distance--getting surprisingly few strange
looks--I was deposited by a large hut on the top of a platform. A small
brook babbled by, and I thought it was simply beautiful. It was the
pastoral retreat I had always wanted. It was a shame that even if I did
live, I wouldn't be able to come back to it. I walked to the door.
I cautiously opened the door and was simply shocked upon entering
the hut. The inside was all linen and silk, unlike the rustic tree-themed
hut I awoke in. It was lavish in its simplicity and yet adorned with every
gold and silver royal icon and diadem that one would ever need. It was
gorgeous.
The thing that broke me out of my reverie was a small cough from
the opposite side of the room. A bed, covered with thick white sheets and
with somebody presumably lying in it, laid next to the window. A small sigh
came from the bed and I slowly walked up to it.
"Pardon me," I murmured next to the bed. "Are you Saelin?"
It was probably the strangeness in my voice that made him
hesitate, but after a few seconds, he summoned up his strength and flipped
the covers down over his head. I was stunned beyond comprehension.
The man lying in bed was not muscular, tanned, or even
hardened. He was a cool, pale white--most likely half High Elf--and had a
set of sparkling aquamarine eyes the likes of which I had never seen. He
had an obvious fever, which brought an attractive blush to his cheeks and
instead of the more barbaric shirtlessness of the Sylvan Elves, he was
wearing a small blue tunic. He looked at me strangely as he wiped back his
long blond-bordering-on-white hair matted with sweat. He seemed interested
in me, but was simply too fatigued to hold that interest.
"My name is Silden," I said smiling, trying to be friendly. "I'm
an alchemist sent to help you."
"Oh," he said faintly. His voice was the sound of faint cathedral
bells.
My heart drooped at his predicament. He was so lovely and so
frail. I became instantly infatuated with not only the idea of nursing him
back to health, but loving him for all time.
It was that day that I began work on Saelin. I had employed every
technique I knew to discover the source of his illness, and it quickly
drove me to work as hard as I ever had. I tested medicine after medicine to
help him. Whenever I thought of giving up, I just had to look to his
beautiful eyes looking longingly to me for a cure to feel the call of life
rejuvenate me. I set up a laboratory in his hut and began to consult the
midwives and magical women of the Sylvan Elves. They seemed to like me well
enough. After three weeks of constant work, I was positive I had the
answer.
I brought the crystal vial to Saelin and smiled. His eyes
brightened and he sat up.
"Oh, Silden!" he said happily, albeit faintly. "Did you finish?"
"You bet I did!" I said proudly, handing it to him. "Drink it
slowly now."
He took it and poured the clear liquid past his paling lips and
swallowed it.
"It feels good," he said, smiling.
"Let's hope it works," I said, equally giddy. Something about
Saelin brought out my playfulness. Even lying in a bed he was brilliant
with energy. I moved to sit down next to him when I felt a warm hand on
mine.
"Silden," he said softly. "If this works, will you have to leave?"
My heart sank in my chest. "I hope not."
"Well, you can't," he said, gently nuzzling his cheek against my
hand. "I won't let you."
"Saelin," I said seriously, "I came here on accident and I don't
want to leave any more than you want me to. I just don't fit in."
Saelin took a deep breath, lunged, and grasped my waist. I was
about to protest when he quickly pulled me down onto his bed. At that
moment, I realized how much smaller and adorable he was. He cuddled next to
me and started to cry--perhaps partially for his illness. I could do
nothing but hold him and stroke his flaxen hair.
"You can't leave," he said, "I love you."
The words hit me like a dagger to the heart. In all the time I was
there, it never occurred to me that I would love him. Yes, I thought he was
cute beyond all words. Yes, I wanted to lie in bed with him. All of those
things were not love--and just now, this was.
I became enthralled with his eyes, now red with tears and smiled a
little. He was waiting, anticipating the rejection. He bit his lip, he
didn't want to be alone. Not alone. With anyone, not alone.
I bent down and pressed his soft lips upon mine. In that moment,
we became one with each other. We explored our bodies, pressed together,
thrilling with the ecstacy of a warm body that loves you and cares for you
more than you do yourself. In a paroxysm of this love, we fell back onto
the bed. Saelin then began to laugh uncontrollably. His sides began to hurt
and it made me laugh as well.
"What's so funny?" I said.
"This," he said quietly. He reached down and grabbed something
under his bed. "It's for you."
He placed it gently in my lap and tears came to my eyes--it was
the pouch of harvesting tools.
***
There you have it. That's how I met my sweetheart and that's how
we eventually became mates for life. What? You wanted the more scandalous
parts? Nope! Not without his permission. Not for anything in the world!
That's between me and him.