Date: Mon, 21 Apr 2003 22:10:38 -0700 (PDT)
From: Corrinne S <quasito_cat@yahoo.com>
Subject: Dark Wishes Installment Three: Part One Chapters 7-9

 Note: This is a gay themed fantasy novel about kings
and magic, love and war.  Although I will often allude
to sexual encounters, there are no scenes of sexual
acts for this is, by and large, a love story.  This
author claims exclusive copyright to the characters,
settings, and plot.  The first part includes some
characters approximately sixteen years of age who
would, I have been assured, be of the legal age of
consent in some places.

Chapter Seven:

     Time passed quickly but pleasantly for Xoachin.
His afternoons were filled with study but the mornings
were spent with Nels.  He endeavored to teach his new
friend not only courtly manners but how to read and
write.  The other students at Aolane also had their
mornings free for Frayne was working in the archives
with Ilafrain.

     "I had the healers write an account of my
father's injury and their treatment," he had said
shortly after his return.  "It might be of worth to
hold in the healer section of the archive against the
day that another fool uses a rusty blade to harvest
grain."

     "You care not at all for your father, do you?"
Ilafrain asked.

     "You know that I do not for it was you who
rescued me from him and brought me here to study."  He
laughed softly.  "He still believes it was your intent
to corrupt me.  He will not acknowledge that you never
touched me."

     "I sometime act with honorable intentions,"
Ilafrain responded.  Then he sighed and added,
"Resnaron stole your heart before I could entice you
to my bed."

     "You still rescue endangered souls," Frayne said.

     "Oh?  How so?  Whom have I rescued lately?"

     "Xoachin.  Resnaron and I were in Lippize not six
months back to check their herds.  I saw Bellard grab
the lad and fling him against a fence post.  I singled
the brute out later and told him that if he ever did
it again I would kill him.  If I had known that the
unfortunate lad was Miralen's love, I would have
killed Bellard then and brought Xoachin here."

     "To kill Bellard would have broken the covenant
with the Lippiz," Ilafrain said.

     "I am not a king and made no such covenant,"
Frayne replied in a voice so cold that even Ilafrain
felt its chill.  "I would still like to see that
bastard dead."

     "Promise me that you will not tell Miralen,"
Ilafrain entreated.  "Xoachin is safe now.  There has
been bad blood between Miralen and Bellard since the
man's birth.  I dread to think what he would do were
he to learn of the cruelty shown to his love.  Best to
leave it be, Frayne," he said.

     Frayne, although ten years older than Nels, took
an interest in the two recent arrivals to Aolane.
Nels seemed to blossom under Xoachin's friendship and
showed a very quick mind indeed.  His reading was
still hesitant but improved daily and Frayne set about
to teach the lad numbers.

     The three soon became fast friends with Xoachin
and Nels trailing after Frayne when they were not
concerned with work or study.  Frayne, a master
storyteller, wove them tales of the early years of
time when the land was young and men were new to
existence.  He told them of the covenant between
Miralen and the Lippiz and the gift the High King had
made of the beautiful horses.

     "They are born black or gray," Xoachin told Nels.
 "As they age they turn to white, although there is
always at least one stallion among the herds who
remains black.  My mother says it is a part of
Miralen's magic and they would cease to exist if there
was no black stallion."

     The evenings were spent in quiet companionship.
The Kings would sit and talk of their dreams for the
future of the ten kingdoms whilst their loves would
recount their adventures to each other, for Xoachin
and Nels were full of curiosity and continued to
explore the castle and buildings surrounding it.  On
occasion Frayne would tell of the people he and
Resnaron met on their journeys through the kingdoms
and the herb lore of the old grandmothers who lived
deep within the forests.

     "I thought only the Kings were magic," Nels said
one evening.

     "Oh, no," Frayne replied.  "The world itself is
magic.  All life is part of its creation.  Only the
Kings can use the magic but the grandmothers believe
that there is a place, deep within the earth, which
was the birthplace of the Kings.  They say that their
spirits will return there one day, when their task
here is finished, to wait for a time when they are
needed to guide men again."

     One evening, when the Kings were in the great
archive planning for the coming winter, Frayne told
Xoachin and Nels more about the nature of their
lovers.

     "Resnaron broods at times because he feels
inferior to the other two," he said.  "His is not a
joyous spirit for he feels compassion for the land and
people.  If crops are poor or the herds unproductive,
he feels he is to blame.  One winter was extremely
harsh after a hot and dry summer.  Many died that year
and he still feels sorrow for them."

     "What of Ilafrain?" Nels asked.

     "Your love is a complicated piece of work,"
Frayne replied.  "He frets that he is unable to feel
true love.  His abiding passion is the archive and he
tends it as if it were his child. He is filled with
care and concern for those around him, from his
brother kings to the lowliest servant in the kingdom.
He will give you all of himself that he can give,
Nels, but never the love you seek."

     "I am content enough," Nels replied.  "I would
rather have Ilafrain as my lover than Miralen.  He
frightens me at times."

     "And well he should, with all apologies,
Xoachin," Frayne said.  "Miralen can love more deeply
and passionately than his brother kings and that is
his weakness.  He leads men into battle well and
wisely but will mourn endlessly for each one who dies.
 That is why he trains his warriors every day, feeling
that each man lost in battle is due to his failure to
prepare them well.  I fear that his sorrow will one
day overwhelm him and he will lose all reason."

     Days turned into the weeks and months which
followed.  Nels, lasting longer than any predecessor,
basked in his new friendships and what fondness
Ilafrain had for him.  Frayne continued his work in
the archives, helping to catalogue the scrolls he had
brought back from his most recent journey with his
love.  And Xoachin forgot Frayne's words concerning
the High King until Miralen woke screaming one night.

     Xoachin bolted from the bed in fear for he had
never seen his love thrash about so desperately nor
heard the words of pain the King uttered.  The
sleeping chamber was quickly filled for Resnaron,
Ilafrain, and their lovers were soon in the room with
them.

     Frayne thrust Xoachin's still nude body toward
Nels saying, "Keep him away," and Nels held to his
friend.  The other two Kings went quickly to Miralen's
side and took control as if it were something they had
done countless times.  Each took one of Miralen's
hands before grasping their own together.  Nels and
Xoachin stared in awe as a blinding light filled the
room accompanied by a sound that was like great,
unseen wings.

     As Miralen's screams ebbed to quiet mutterings,
Frayne picked up Xoachin's long tunic and crossed to
where the two frightened young men stood.  Helping
Nels to dress the trembling lad he said, "Take him
with you for tonight.  Our loves will continue the
healing magic in the hours to come, for Miralen has
remembered an early battle in which he lost many men."

     "Will you come with us?" Nels asked.

     "No," Frayne replied, "for I must be part of the
magic as I have been many times before.  Ilafrain will
fill Miralen's mind with the good he has done through
the centuries.  Resnaron will remind him of the
people's love for him.  I am the mortal who will link
him to the earth."

     Nels led Xoachin from the room and down the
corridor, now filled with frightened servants.  "Away
now!" the castle steward shouted to the servants.  "Go
about your business.  Stay and you will be blinded by
Qell magic."

     The servants dispersed in small groups as Nels
led his sobbing friend to the chamber he shared with
Ilafrain.  The two crept into the huge bed and Nels
held Xoachin close to him as great sobs wracked his
body.

     "I should be helping," Xoachin managed between
sobs.

     "You might, one day," Nels answered.  "Frayne has
been ten years with the kings and shares a special
bond with them through Resnaron.  You must sleep now
for your love will have need of you later."

Chapter Eight:

     A week passed and Miralen remained unconscious
and unaware.  Xoachin and Nels sat with him each day
and Xoachin became filled with despair for the High
King.  Nels held his friend closely each night as
Resnaron and Ilafrain continued their healing magic.
When Xoachin became frantic with worry, Frayne joined
the two young men and helped to ease their fear with
his strength and maturity.

     One evening, as he recovered, Miralen lay with
Xoachin curled against him.  "Are you still happy here
with me," he asked, "now that you have seen me thus?
Your letters to your mother are filled with tales of
drudgery and hardship."

     Xoachin thought quickly for Miralen must never
know the truth.  "If my lady mother knew that I was
filled with happiness," he said and told a partial
truth, "she would feel that I no longer have need of
her.  I am her only son and it gives her some pleasure
to think that I would prefer to be at home."

     "And would you?" the king queried.

     "I desire to stay with you always, my love.  I
would surely wish to die should I ever leave you."

     "Have a care what you wish, lad," Frayne said
when Xoachin recounted his conversation with Miralen.
"The old grandmothers believe that wishes made in the
company of the Qell will come true."

   Two years passed and Xoachin grew taller.  His
silver hair was streaked from time spent in the sun
for Nels still remained with Ilafrain and the two rode
daily.  Both young men grew in confidence and Frayne's
guidance in the ways to deal with their sometimes
difficult lovers.  Miralen had no further painful
memories but Xoachin was constantly aware that the man
he loved was always but a breath away from a kind of
madness.

     Nels reached his twentieth year and had matured
in face and form.  He was happy in the life he had
with Ilafrain and his friends.  He sometimes traveled
with Resnaron and Frayne, finding he had developed an
interest in the lore and legends of the kingdoms.  No
one seemed to notice that Frayne sometimes glanced at
him with more than simple friendship.

     The three close friends returned from riding one
day to find the Kings waiting for them in Miralen's
apartment.  The High King held a small scroll in his
left hand and solemnly handed it to Xoachin.

     "What is wrong?" Xoachin asked, for Miralen's
demeanor was one of great reluctance.

     "This came for you by special courier," the king
responded.  "It is from your father."

     Xoachin took the scroll and hastily read it.  "My
mother is gravely ill," he said.  "I must return home
at once.  My father writes that she has little time
left."

     Frayne, barely concealing his hatred for Bellard
said, "I will go with you.  You may need a friend."
It was difficult for him to bite back the word
`guard'.

     Nels immediately summoned the steward and gave
the order for horses and provisions be made ready for
the journey.

     "Return to me," Miralen said as he gave his love
a kiss and grasped him in a tight embrace.

     "I will be back when my mother has regained her
health or been laid to rest," Xoachin replied as he
returned the kiss.  "Only death could keep me from
you."

     The journey was rapid as Xoachin and Frayne sped
toward Lippize.  They stopped only to grant the horses
time to rest and feed.  For themselves, they slept in
their saddles.

     They arrived at Xoachin's boyhood home just after
sunrise four days later.  They handed their horses
over to young grooms and were led immediately to
Bellard's study.

     "Is this man the reason you have ignored my pleas
to return home?" Bellard demanded as the two entered
the study.  His face was florid with anger at the easy
way between his son and the handsome man who had once
threatened to kill him.  "Ilafrain took you to that
den of iniquity.  I know you have been corrupted."

     "My mother," Xoachin interjected, "what of my
mother?"

     "Bah!" Bellard exclaimed.  "Her illness was but a
way to get you back here where you belong."

     "I belong in Aolane," Xoachin replied.

     "With such as this?"

     "Have a care for your tongue, Bellard," Frayne
said, "lest I remove it from your vile mouth.  Xoachin
is not my lover."

     "No, I am not," Xoachin added, full of confidence
after two years absence from Lippize.  "The High King
is my lover and was before I went to Aolane."

     "That ... that bastard!" Bellard shouted.  "I will
have no son of mine warm the bed of that creature!"

     Xoachin stood across the room from where Bellard
leaned against the hearth mantle, Frayne slightly in
front of him.  Frayne saw Bellard's eyes go to a
javelin leaning close to hand.  Armed only with a
sword and dagger, Frayne shouted, "NO!" and moved to
close the distance between himself and the deranged
man, drawing his sword as he crossed the room.

     Frayne's sword separated Bellard's head from his
shoulders as the javelin struck deep within Xoachin's
heart.  Dropping his bloody sword on the stone floor,
Frayne rushed back to Xoachin and grasped the boy's
hand.

     Blood seeped slowly from one corner of Xoachin's
mouth as he whispered, "Tell Miralen that I love him."

     As the spirit of life fled from the limp body on
the floor, Frayne threw back his head and screamed,
"Resnaron!"

Chapter Nine:

     The province of Lippize woke to a perfect day.
Sunrise greeted those who were up early.

     A ten-year old boy yawned as he opened the gate
to a herd of milk-beasts and led them toward the
pasture.  The bell around the neck of the lead beast
clanged loudly in the early morning stillness.  A
small girl, a slight mustache of milk lining her upper
lip, donned her bonnet and picked up a small stick
from outside the cottage door.  She set off about her
business of driving a gaggle of geese toward a nearby
pond.  A young mother rose and took her tiny infant
from the cradle near the bed and bared her breast for
the child's hungry lips.

     Farmers set out toward their fields, sickles
across their shoulders.  The harvest this year would
be abundant thanks to the new seed provided by King
Resnaron.  Stable hands roused themselves from deep
sleep and started to sweep the muck left behind after
the horses were turned out to the paddocks.

     Greetings and gentle laughter accompanied the
people of Lippize as they went about their daily
business.  And, in an instant, their lives ended.
Quietly, painlessly, they simply ceased to exist.

     Far out, at the very edges of their land, a
lightning bolt struck in the drywood.  One small spark
resulted and fire felt itself called into life.  The
fire woke slowly, stretching its arms tenuously upward
lest it be seen and stopped.  With no enemy near at
hand, the fire began a dance through the dry brush.

     A gentle breeze greeted the small, dancing flames
and seemed to whisper, "Go, spread yourselves for
there is none to stop you.  Today you may do that
which you were born to do."

     The fire rose higher, the flames began to burn
brighter.  It moved, slowly at first, then gaining in
strength.  The wind grew with it and began to sing a
siren's song, luring the fire inward.  It danced,
great gossamer wings of orange outflung and rejoicing.
 Held in bondage for so long, it grasped the freedom
it felt in the magic that infused it.

     Unrestrained, it spread with joyous abandon.
Animals fled in fear and it gave them leave to escape
for such was the message the magic whispered.  Homes,
fields, and forests were its prey.

     The flames spread toward the center of the
province, hungrily tasting everything they touched.
Arms spread forward as the reached the center of their
existence and found the castle of the Lippize dukes.

     "No," the magic insisted.  "That place you may
not have."  They retreated, tried again, and felt the
magic threaten to end their path of destruction before
they were finished.

     Within the walls of the fortress of Aolane,
Miralen grasped the hands of his brother Qell.  They
knew his pain and felt his grief.  Magic they were and
magic was demanded of them.  Miralen had called the
covenant broken and the Qell would support his
decision.  But, where Miralen wanted pain and
suffering, Resnaron demanded compassion.

     "Only Bellard is the cause of Xoachin's death,"
he said.  "If all of the Lippiz must die, then it must
be swift and painless."  Even Miralen's great anger
could not make Resnaron retreat from his decision.
"Do not defy me!" Resnaron shouted, for the first time
in his existence using the full force of himself as a
lord of magic.  "If you defy me then I will end all of
us, here and now!"

     Miralen retreated at the force of Resnaron's
resolve.  "If need be, then I will allow," he said.
"But the land and the people must end."

     Frayne, at the insistence of Resnaron and
Ilafrain, had hurried Nels onto one of the swiftest
horses in the stable and away from the center of
Elanen.  "We must go, and quickly," he said.  "They
are working a dark magic such as I have never seen
before and they fear now for our lives."

     They rode for hours, away from Aolane and into
the deepest part of the forest.  When they stopped at
dusk, an eerie glow could be seen far to the north, so
great that it reflected off of low-lying clouds.

     "What is that?" Nels asked.

     "Once upon a time it was Lippize," Frayne
replied.

     "You mean all of it is gone?  An entire
province?" Nels asked in wonder and fear.  "The Qell
have completely destroyed it?"

     "I greatly fear so," Frayne replied.

     "But you do not know," was Nels' response.
"Perhaps some still live."

     "Nay, lad," Frayne said looking into Nels'
troubled eyes.  "Resnaron showed me that which was
done.  Every mortal human is gone.  The Lippiz are no
more.  Even the land will be rendered inhabitable to
mankind."

     "But how could they do it?" Nels asked.

     "Miralen has lost all reason.  His grief is so
overwhelming that his mind went beyond reality and
knew naught but revenge.  It was only my own gracious
lord's compassion that gave the Lippiz a quick and
painless death for Miralen would have caused them
endless pain and suffering."

     "And Ilafrain?" Nels asked, "could he not stop
it?"

     "The High King has ever been the stronger of the
three," Frayne explained.  "The others could not stop
him.  They are part of the same breath of life and
each has his place.  Ilafrain was the conduit through
which flew the magic that ended in what you see in the
distance."

     Nels leaned against Frayne, tears running down
his face at the needless death of so many.  Xoachin
had been as a brother to him and his heart felt a deep
heaviness at the loss of his friend.

     "Here, boy," Frayne said, handing him a square of
linen for his nose.

     "I am not a boy!" Nels suddenly exclaimed and
pushed away from Frayne.  "I am a man!" for the events
had aged him greatly.

     "Then act like a man," Frayne responded.  "Blow
your nose and wipe away your tears.  I saw a patch of
berries near here that will make an acceptable meal.
We make a cold camp tonight and begin our journey
tomorrow."

     "Journey?" Nels asked.  "Back to Aolane?"

     "Away from there," Frain answered.  "You and I
are not safe there until Miralen has exhausted his
anger.  He has lost the one he loved and will not look
kindly on Resnaron and Ilafrain having what he has
lost.  We are going to travel the kingdoms.  All will
have seen that eerie glow," he added pointing to the
north.  "And the grandmothers who can see into magic
will know what befell Lippize.  You and I must go
among the people and try to learn their reaction.  The
Lippiz were among the most favored with their gentle
ways and unique appearance.  I fear there might be
repercussions."

     "From men?" Nels asked in wonder.

     "What Miralen has caused to be done, Nels, goes
beyond comprehension.  You and I knew Xoachin and the
love the two shared.  We ourselves are lovers of the
Qell, yet we cannot grasp the extent of Miralen's
wrath.  What more would you expect of men who have
never know the warmth of their embrace or the depth of
their emotions?"

     Nels had no response, his eyes locked on the fire
that still glowed in the distance.  "I am afraid," he
whispered.

To be continued.

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