Date: Mon, 18 Jul 2016 03:57:18 +0000
From: Michael Offutt <kavrik@hotmail.com>
Subject: Chapter 27-The Orb of Winter-Gay Science Fiction

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				   *****

			   Chapter Twenty-Seven

   "You're late," Paul said.
   The crackle of the fire in the hearth called to Alexi, and he knelt on
the fine woven carpet and extended his delicate hands over the logs.
   "I'm sorry. I would've been here sooner, but I witnessed something
incredible," he said through chattering teeth.
   Intrigued, Paul moved to his side and draped a blanket over his friend's
shoulders. Then he joined him on the carpet. Paul wore a loose shift, and
Alexi couldn't help but notice the swell of Paul's very round and full
breasts. They looked like "C" cups.
   "I saw Hunter again, and this time he was trying to save a friend being
held by some death giant assassins...Nevrenachtur lords."
   "I've heard of them," Paul said. "But go on. Tell me the whole thing."
   And so Alexi did. When he finished, Paul got up and poured him a cup of
hot tea. Then he settled next to him again. "That's the craziest story I've
ever heard."
   "It's true," Alexi said, almost spilling his drink.
   "I know," Paul stated. "I'm just sayin' that it's crazy. You're lucky to
be alive."
   "I had a good hiding spot, and they were all focused on what everyone
else was doing."
   "Obviously," Paul said. "Let me get out of these slippers and into some
proper shoes. I'll also grab our study book. Is that the bag you got?"
   Alexi nodded. He'd lugged the doctor's bag back to the academy, and he
felt lucky that he didn't get waylaid by men out cruising the streets for a
good time. It took him two hours to walk back here, but in the wet cold
snow it felt like days.
   Paul appeared after fifteen minutes and the two boys finished a second
cup of tea. Then they set off for Alexi's secret way into the abandoned
wings of the sprawling Academy of Necromancy. Once beyond the iron door
that led from the arboretum, the tone of the place changed significantly.
   "It's sad, don't you think?" Paul asked, holding aloft a lantern. They
walked through a grand chamber with a ruined long table. Heaps of dust and
snow-covered carpet lay piled under tall broken windows that a century ago
might have looked stately.
   Alexi picked their path toward the doors, and opened one. "There are
undead in this corridor, but don't be frightened. I put them there."
   Paul nodded and stepped through. At the far end, a dozen shadows started
shambling toward them and the stench of rotting meat wafted through the
stagnant air. The zombies grew more frenzied as the two approached, and in
Paul's hand the lantern shook.
   Alexi gestured with his fingers and the zombies moved to one side giving
them room to pass. He'd discovered that once he'd conquered their
necromancy with his own, he had them permanently bound to his will.
   "How did you get so powerful?" Paul asked in wonder.
   "I'm not sure," Alexi said, "but it seems to come from within me. And
it's getting stronger. Wait until you see Dudley."
   Paul giggled, "I can't believe you call him that. If Rowena knew she'd
be infuriated."
   Alexi smiled. "The place I chose for our home is perfect. It has a
direct route to the back door of this place just down the hill, and it lies
across a huge crack in the floor that you have to cross over on a
beam. Don't worry, it's wide enough to traverse without having to do a
balancing act. Just be careful because it has no rails and drops down about
four stories to the basement where there's lots of zombies."
   "All right," Paul said. "Lead on then."
   Alexi took them down another corridor, brushed more undead out of the
way, and then found a stair behind a large wooden door. He took the stairs
two at a time, mindful of the fact that both of them wore heels. When they
got to the top, he pointed out the makeshift bridge.
   "I think this was some kind of art gallery at some point," Alexi
said. "The rooms I picked out for my lab and bedroom are just over that
bridge there."
   Paul stared across the twenty-foot gap where the floor had cracked and
the foundation on one side of the school had separated from the other. But
at least the ground was level.
   "There are no windows in the lab to let out the light so that someone
might see it in the dark from the dormitories, which are a quarter of a
mile that way," Alexi pointed. "But there are windows in the library, the
bathroom, and the bedroom."
   "You have a library?" Paul asked, shivering in the night air. A few
snowflakes fell through the open ceiling.
   "I do," Alexi said with exuberance. "And I've got a quarter of the
shelves filled with pilfered tomes. I've been searching the complex a
little bit every day. I came across a room that had enough books in it to
double my collection, but I haven't had time to move them here. I've been
wanting to get the place spruced up a little before the Ball of Moon's
Blood this week."
   "Aren't you worried some academy student might stumble across this?"
Paul asked.
   Alexi shook his head. "It's why I have the lower halls filled with
undead. No one in the school wields the kind of power I have. They'd be
challenged with one of those things, let alone two dozen, which is how many
I brought up. That and there's Dudley right across the bridge here."
   Paul looked down into the chasm as they approached the thick boards that
spanned the crack in the foundation. Each looked at least a foot thick and
they were about two feet wide. Alexi had placed two of them side by
side. Snow coated everything to about an inch and outside the shorn walls,
the wind rustled through leaves neither of the boys could see because it
was so dark.
   "Nice, right?" Alexi asked. From down below came the murmur of the
zombie army he'd spoken of earlier. "The forest is so thick outside those
walls and windows that you can't see the academy dormitories unless it's
night. Then you can see the yellow lights from all the windows through the
snow-laden boughs. But they're far away. I also have a spell that burns
bones the same as wood. You get all the heat and light a normal fire would
produce, but none of the smoke."
   "Where do you get the bones?" Paul asked.
   "There's a whole gallery of them three levels down. It looks like a
massacre of some kind took place there. Trust me, this place has lots of
old skeletons in its closets."
   When they reached the far side of the chasm, Paul held up his light. Ten
feet from the tips of his shoes lay half the body of an ogre. A blood trail
in the snow marked where the other half had gone sailing over the edge of
the chasm and into the depths. The vast undead creature sported several
wounds in its chest area and its right arm was missing.
   "Alexi, is this Dudley?" Paul asked, somewhat frightened.
   Alexi stared uncomprehendingly at his greatest minion, now laying as a
pile of inanimate rotting flesh on the doorstep to his new dwelling. "What
in the nine hells...?" He turned to Paul and asked for the lantern.
   Alexi stepped forward and held it aloft. A trail of blood droplets led
across the snow and toward the door to his laboratory. The door was closed,
but the lock he'd placed on it was lying discarded on the floor.
   Paul retrieved the padlock. "It's still functional. Someone had a key or
picked it open."
   Alexi swallowed nervously. "Stay behind me. If there's something on the
other side of this, I'll launch black flame at it. Then we run."
   "You can summon black flame?" Paul asked, eyes wide.
   "I'm not sure," Alexi replied. "But I think I can, so stay behind me."
   Paul nodded. "All right. I'm ready."
   Alexi reached forward and turned the handle. Warm air greeted him from
inside, a result of having left the fire in the hearth going. He stepped
into his lab, seeing immediately that there had indeed been an
intruder. Some glass flasks on a work bench he intended for experiments had
been tossed onto the ground. Broken glass lay everywhere; spattered here
and there was blood from someone. Behind him, Paul entered and closed the
door softly. Their shoes crunched the glass and sounded a lot like walking
on one of Zanda's many rocky beaches. Alexi's eyes flew to his paintings,
saw that they were undisturbed. Next, he looked at a big pile of books and
they too still sat in place.
   Who on earth would risk coming in here to steal something? Alexi
thought.
   Then Paul tugged his sleeve and pointed to the right where Alexi had set
one of several mattresses he'd stolen upon the floor. Alexi intended to use
them to make a bedroom out of an adjoining chamber. It had vaulted
ceilings, big picture windows, and a nice cabinet that he fancied might
make a great wardrobe. But there in the light of the fireplace was his
intruder.
   It was Mr. Hunter from last night, and he didn't move at all.
   The trail of blood droplets led directly to him, and blood had soaked
into parts of the mattress ruining it. His runesword lay on the ground next
to a worn leather haversack, both items within reach of his fingertips.
   "Milbar's beard," Alexi whispered. "It's him."
   Paul set his book down and walked over to the body lying on the floor.
   "Be careful," Alexi warned, racing to his side and placing the lantern
on a nightstand.
   But Mr. Hunter never moved. Alexi finally saw his chest rise and fall,
but Hunter's breath looked far from even. It sounded like he even struggled
a bit, probably a result of several broken ribs.
   "Is he dead?" Paul asked.
   "I don't think so," Alexi replied. He kicked at Hunter's leg but the man
didn't respond.
   "He's taken something," Paul said, pointing at a syringe on the ground.
   Alexi picked it up and examined it. Then he spotted the vial containing
a liquid (mostly gone) that Hunter must have injected into himself.
   "It's called `Trance' I think," Paul said. "It's a potent painkiller. He
must be hurt badly, Alexi."
   Alexi sucked on his lower lip and said, "Let's see if we can get him
better positioned on this mattress. I owe him my life, it's the least I
could do."
   Paul stooped and grabbed a hold of Hunter's boots and hefted him onto
the bed. Then the two boys straightened him out some. Alexi saw immediately
that Hunter bled from both his helmet (through the grille over his mouth)
and through a gash on his side.
   "Let's get this helmet off and bring over that basin and put some warm
water in it," Alexi said.
   "Where do I get the warm water?" Paul asked.
   "I've got a pot simmering over the fire there on a brass shelf. It
should still be warm."
   Paul reached up and grabbed the pot and poured the contents into a
ceramic basin. Then he grabbed a washcloth from the table holding the
beakers and medicine jars and walked it over to Alexi.
   "I think I've figured out how this thing comes off," Alexi said, running
his fingers around the base of the helmet. He pressed several small hollows
at once and it parted from the skin-tight gorget around the neck (to which
it was sealed). There was a little "hiss" as the air decompressed. In the
next instant, he removed it.
   Next to him, Paul gasped.
   "What?" Alexi asked, alarmed. He set the helmet on the ground and
looked. There on the mattress was the most beautiful teenaged boy Alexi had
ever seen. Hunter had a slim long face that managed to be both boy and
man—both angel and devil—at the same time, and his bone structure was
perfectly symmetrical. Alexi knew one glance from Hunter would halt someone
in their tracks; he felt that raw sexual power flowing off the sleeping
boy, and it unnerved him as sure as any spell.
   A high-bridged slender nose dominated Hunter's exquisite features and
flowed smoothly into his moist forehead. Faint freckles splashed across the
upper part of his nose and the skin beneath his eyes, which were deep-set
atop distinctive cheekbones covered in skin so white the whole of him
looked carved in alabaster. Hunter's lips formed a line of the palest pink,
and his white-blond hair and sideburns had a tousled griminess to them that
promised finesse. The hair (coiffed in the back and on the sides so as to
be above the collar and over the ears) hung long and loose, effectively
obscuring his eyes. Hunter's angular jaw curved gracefully around to his
neck, which showed its strength in the twining cords of muscle that shaped
his entire body. His nostrils were unbelievably petite things, and there
was the faintest dusting of white-blond hair across his upper lip, but
Alexi only saw it at certain angles and only from a few inches away. Other
than that, his cheeks and chin showed no sign of ever having grown a
whisker.
   The boy's eyebrows and eyelashes were also white-blond. The eyebrows
themselves looked plucked and tweezed into perfect moon slivers; every hair
exactly as it should be. And their color was so faint against his pale skin
that Alexi had to fight an impulse to darken them with liner, but realized
they gave Hunter's superb face an almost otherworldly quality. And Hunter's
lashes were so long and thick that (with his lids closed) they touched the
tops of his cheeks. Alexi even checked Hunter's mouth by parting his lips
with his gloved fingers—he did this out of necessity to find some
imperfection, some flaw, if one could even possibly exist on this man. But
Hunter's teeth were as white and perfect as the rest of him.
   And that's when Alexi knew.
   All this flawlessness was natural, and here lay someone that woke up
looking like this every single day.
   "Milbar's beard," Alexi gulped. "He's stunning. And Paul...look...he has
a tongue piercing."
   Paul shook his head enthusiastically. "That's hotter than the nine
hells. Alexi, I've never seen anyone that was this striking. Look at how
white his skin is. I bet he doesn't get much sunlight, not if he wears this
thing all the time." Paul knelt next to Alexi and extended his trembling
fingers to open one of Hunter's eyes. A catastrophic Robin's egg blue
stared back at him, although the pupils were dilated. "Fuck...he even has
blue eyes. The rarest of blue even. Bloody hell, Alexi...he fucking has
exquisite eyes. And look here...he has double eyelashes. You know how rare
that is?"
   "By all the sages in Sulasia what have we found?" Alexi asked. He knelt
and whispered into Hunter's ear. "Please be my boyfriend," and then
giggled. But of course, Hunter could hear nothing.
   Then Paul looked at him and said, "He's obviously wounded so let's get
him out of his armor." Then he sat back to take in Hunter's entire lithe
body. "He's six foot one, I think. But we should take measurements for the
book. Look at how long his feet are. Even they are dazzling, and I'm just
looking at his boots."
   "They're not out of proportion for him," Alexi said.
   "No...that's not what I meant. I mean, you're right of course. They're
perfect for him. Probably a size eleven boot at most, but that's big
compared to my size four's."
   "Or my size five's," Alexi said. "Then again, I'm short."
   "We call that petite, honey," Paul said, running his hands over Hunter's
cuirass. "I see what you mean. If all those bumps are muscles, then getting
this off is going to be a lot of fun. I wonder if he has a big dick."
   "I wonder what race he is," Alexi said, musing to himself.
   "I can tell you that," Paul said. "Bring me the book and I'll show
you. He's Atlantean. This color in his hair is the rarest mutation there
is. This man shouldn't exist, Alexi. But he does, and he's someone who
needs our help. It means he'll be indebted to us."
   "Dangerous people are looking for him," Alexi said. "This is more than I
bargained for."
   "Life's often that way," Paul said. "Now help me get him undressed. We
need to tend to his wounds."
   Alexi knelt next to Hunter's unconscious body. "I'll do the
undressing. This is my place, remember? You just take down notes in your
book."
   "All right," Paul said, getting up to grab The Races of Wynwrayth from
off the top of the workbench. He also snatched a coiled measuring tape, a
quill, and an ink bottle from a desk on the south wall.
   Alexi examined the gorget piece of armor that locked tightly around
Hunter's long thin neck, and he found the place where it connected to the
helmet right under the chin. The bottom of it connected to Hunter's
pauldrons, which in turn overshadowed his cuirass (or breastplate and
backplate fastened together).
   "Bring me my bag, would you?" he asked Paul. His friend obliged almost
immediately. "This requires some kind of hexagonal tool to undo," Alexi
said. "I don't have anything like it."
   "Maybe he does," Paul suggested, "in one of his belt pouches."
   Alexi smiled and tapped his forehead saying, "Good thinking." Then he
started digging through several of the pockets around Hunter's waist. In
one pouch on the left side, Alexi found a bent tool that had the right
hexagonal end to it. It was about as thin as a spaghetti noodle. He
inserted it into the indentation he'd spotted on the neck piece of Hunter's
armor and started loosening. After a moment, the armor moved. Alexi
loosened a couple more spots and the gorget popped open in his hand,
allowing Alexi to remove it safely.
   "He smells like hay when it's just stopped raining," Paul said. "It's
intoxicating; earthy."
   Alexi set it to one side and Paul whistled. "That looks really painful,"
he whispered.
   Alexi saw the damage the collar of Abyssal stone had done. Hunter's
sinewy neck sported a conspicuous Adam's apple resting between cords of
stringy muscle. It would have been covered in beautiful white skin like the
rest that sheathed Hunter's god-like body, but an angry band of raised
welts and blisters formed a complete ring where he'd been collared. A
little blood leaked from several places where the flesh had even torn. In
some spots, the burns were an inch-wide.
   "Damn," Alexi said, his voice lowered to a whisper. "I'm so sorry,
Mr. Hunter. But we'll fix you up. I promise."
   That's when Alexi spotted the fantastic silver rose tattoo. The head of
the rose was clearly visible, petals tightly closed. The colors were so
bright and vivid, so distinct in fact that they looked real. And the green
vine from which the flower sprouted dropped down the length of Hunter's
neck and disappeared beneath the boy's corobidian pauldrons.
   Alexi looked at Paul and saw his friend crying. That's when he noticed
wetness on his own cheeks. It isn't fair that someone this beautiful should
be in so much pain, Alexi thought. The empathy he felt for Hunter almost
overwhelmed him, and it made his heart ache.
   "Abyssal stone did this," Paul stated, with just a hint of anger in his
voice. "I can't believe they collared him with it. No one should have to
suffer those kinds of burns."
   Alexi dug into his doctor's bag for some Quarinel ointment. Imported
from Merenzar, the ointment had many powerful (and faintly magical) healing
properties. Legends said that Quarinel ointment was created by the Druids
of the First Henge, and because of this it was very rare and expensive.
   Alexi dipped the clean wash cloth in the warm water and blotted Hunter's
neck very carefully. Once he'd cleaned the open wounds of blood, things did
look better. However, Alexi knew the pain must be intolerable. He opened
the jar of the Quarinel ointment and took off his gloves so that only the
skin of his fingers touched Hunter's bare flesh. As gingerly as he could,
he wiped the ointment on the open wounds and then wrapped Hunter's neck in
a linen bandage.
   "That's better, right?" Alexi asked.
   Paul nodded, "I think it looks fine."
   Alexi then started to look at the fine corobidian pauldrons Hunter
wore. Mostly black with artisanal silver filigree, these alien things had a
rugged beauty to them. Employing the hexagonal tool, he loosened several
nuts and the corresponding clasps that held it flush to Hunter's cuirass
eased.
   Paul helped Alexi by getting behind Hunter to lift him off the mattress
so they could slip the shoulder pads over the unconscious Atlantean's
head. Once positioned, Alexi further loosened the bolts that held Hunter's
cuirass in place. It separated down the middle, and they were able to get
the breastplate and backplate off without too much trouble. Then they let
him down gently onto the blood-spotted bed. More of the stem of the silver
rose tattoo was now visible, and it wound its way down his left arm to
disappear under yet more armor.
   "He has no subcutaneous fat," Alexi said to Paul. "I'm not even
kidding. Just look at this."
   Indeed, Alexi could see every blood vessel, sinew, and muscle on
Hunter's body, and it looked eerie, freakish, and even arousing. But he
also felt this strong impulse to feed Hunter, to give him a sandwich, to
give him anything because he looked so starved. There were bruises and some
cuts, yes. But Alexi didn't see those at first. Rather, all he saw was
Hunter's raw agile physique. Even Hunter's belly button was spider-webbed
by veins, a thing he believed impossible.
   Beneath Hunter's broad, lean, and muscular shoulders, the boy's smooth
hairless body gleamed with sweat. Without a doubt, Alexi knew he gazed upon
the body of perhaps the finest athlete in all the lands. He took it all in
with a doctor's appreciation. Pectoral muscles defined Hunter's chest, and
they lay perfectly positioned as flat, thick trapezoidal forms fitted with
standard-sized but faintly pink nipples. These nips, in turn, were set
right at the outer lower corners, and they pointed slightly down and
out. Muscles of the serratus anterior flared and stood out like iron pipes
laid side-by-side. They rose and fell with Hunter's ragged breathing; his
rib bones showed prominently through his pale skin.
   Hunter's navel lay in a gentle dimple amidst a field of stomach muscles
that formed an eight pack up to his sternum. His skin bulged with
crisscrossed vessels and tendon that resembled white worms trapped under
his flesh; they made Hunter's meat look shredded and visceral. They were
everywhere: across his pectorals, up his neck, down and over every one of
his abs, and across the sharp "V-shaped" cuts that made up Hunter's
Apollo's belt only to vanish under a very suggestive metal codpiece.
   Furthermore, with the cuirass completely off, Alexi clearly saw that
Hunter possessed only two patches of white-blond hair, and these were at
both armpits and his pubes. Of the latter he could only see the top, but
they plumed out in a white-blond mass from under his large genital cup. The
ends of the long silky hairs shone with sweat droplets that hung like
jewels on thread. It made Alexi thirsty just looking at that man dew, and
he licked his lips as he stared.
   "It's weird seeing all that bush," Paul said. He took off his velvet
gloves and ran his fingers through the visible strands of Hunter's pubic
hair. "It's so soft and warm. Fuck...his body's firm as all get." Then Paul
leaned in and sniffed at Hunter's groin. "The scent...wow...it kind of
reminds me of this time I walked into a barn where my dad kept the
horses. I'm smelling that now from his crotch; it's animalistic and primal
and all leather and hay and rain...it's like all those scents are in there
at once. Milbar's beard I've got such a chub right now."
   Alexi laughed and took a sniff. "It's delightful," but the young
necromancer accidentally set his hand down on one of Hunter's bruises. This
caused the Atlantean to cough in pain.
   "That's a broken rib there," Paul warned. "And another one here too."
   "He's also got a really bad gash on his abdominal oblique here," Alexi
pointed out. He pressed his finger gently to the skin and the cut started
flowing with blood.
   "I like how his body is so ripped that you can use terms like `abdominal
oblique,' and I see it plain as day," Paul said.
   Alexi smiled at Paul's comment. "I'm going to need to stitch this up."
Hunter looks so strange half undressed like this, Alexi thought. His arms
and hands are completely wrapped in black metal, as is all of his lower
body. The contrast of the white gleaming skin makes the whole experience
visually stunning. Am I drooling? Fuck I'm such a horny mess.
   Alexi reached into his doctor's bag and pulled out the surgical sutures
he planned to use along with a pale bone needle. Both of these he
sterilized in alcohol. Then he started sewing quickly, mumbling magical
words under his breath.
   "What are you saying?" Paul asked, while Alexi worked.
   "It's a little chant that I happen to know. The necromancy required
isn't strenuous and will make sure that his skin heals without a scar. The
sutures will also fall out on their own accord when the skin's fully
repaired," Alexi replied.
   Then he continued to chant the words. After about twenty minutes he had
the wound properly dressed. In that time, Paul found two others that needed
similar treatment. One was on Hunter's back toward the left side. The other
near his right armpit. Both of these had areas over an inch long that
needed to be sewn together, and Alexi did so with a surgeon's skill.
   "Can you do anything for his broken bones, Alexi?" Paul asked.
   In the time Alexi had sewn up Hunter's cuts, a particularly large and
purple welt had formed over two ribs on the lower right. Because Hunter had
no subcutaneous fat, the skin revealed multiple breaks there.
   "He's having trouble breathing," Paul said. "You've got to try
something."
   Alexi nodded.
   In theory, the necromancy was fourth year stuff. Necromancers needed to
be able to parse bones together to create animated skeletons. In the
absence of sinew, the magic provided a suitable substitute. He'd managed to
put together a bird's skeleton once...but nothing of this size and
complexity. And nothing, for that matter, that was still alive.
   Alexi extended his hand over Hunter's chest and drew upon the necromancy
that resided within him. It welled forth from the knot he'd nicknamed
"Drago," raising gooseflesh on his shaven arms, until finally it spilled
out of his fingertips like black smoke. "Instaruret Skeletus," he said over
and over. As Alexi concentrated he could actually feel Hunter's rib bones
slide between his fingers. He felt that bruised bloody meat, and the
slippery cords of damaged sinew. He could feel the young boy struggling to
breathe, and the magic flowed over these holes and tears and breaks seeking
to tie them together once more. Then at last, the bones came together and
fused whole.
   The magic broke, and Alexi gasped. The effort of all that mending left
him perspiring; drops colored with his melting makeup splashed on his
dress.
   "It's done," he said to Paul.
   True enough, Hunter's chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm now, and
the young man's eyes fluttered but remained closed.
   "Let's get his gauntlets off. A giantess broke one of his fingers, and I
think I've got enough magic still left in me to heal that," Alexi said.
   Paul took the tool this time, and following Alexi's lead, he had
Hunter's metal gloves off in just a few minutes. Alexi examined the right
hand where the swelling around the middle finger joint showed just how much
damage Mara Kano had managed to inflict. Paul held the long finger immobile
for Alexi who started to work his magic, once again saying, "Instaruret
Skeletus," over and over. Just like before, the necromancy flowed out of
Alexi's fingers, and he felt the joint repair itself. As the finger bone
fused together to become whole, Alexi let out a sigh. The swelling would go
down in time; there was no magic that Alexi knew that could heal tissue
damage.
   "He has lovely, big, and bony hands," Paul said.
   "I know," Alexi replied, holding one of them in his own. Alexi's hand
looked small in Hunter's calloused palm. Hunter had so many lifelines that
Alexi was mesmerized by the pattern. The Atlantean youth had fingers an
inch longer than Alexi, and veins crisscrossed the surface and disappeared
under armor that concealed his wrist and forearms. And Hunter's thumbs had
a nice hook to them and were themselves long, gaunt, and strong with
viscera made of sinew and blood vessel alike. Alexi found Hunter's hands to
be exceptionally detailed, and he knew they could grip like a
vice. However, he spotted a hint of black flesh in the wrist area, and he
knew he'd have to take off the boy's vambraces to treat the badly burned
skin (as he'd done on Hunter's neck) if he wanted to heal his savior.
   "There's no dirt under his fingernails," Paul said, making a note in his
tome. "In fact, his nails look manicured and polished, just like the rest
of him. It's obvious this one takes pride in his appearance."
   At this point in the narration (and as Paul made notes) Alexi just
shrugged at the running commentary. Hunter was undeniably stunning, but
they needed to get this skin-tight armor off his arms so that the damaged
skin didn't get infected or go necrotic.
   "Twenty-eight-inch waist here. Wow, that's trim," Paul said rolling the
measuring tape up.
   A "pop" signaled that Alexi had managed to remove the black corobidian
vambrace along with the couter and the rerebrace. This left Hunter's arm
naked, which revealed the whole of his tattoo. Paul's jaw fell open, and he
dropped both the quill and The Races of Wynwrayth on the floor. "That rose
looks alive, but it can't be. It's ink, right?"
   "Yes," Alexi said, setting down the armor with the other pieces. Then he
made quick work of Hunter's other vambrace, rerebrace, and couter.
   Hunter's arms were faultlessly symmetrical.
   The flow of lean corded muscle that swept down from a pair of ragged
deltoids flowed into powerful biceps, triceps, and forearms. These areas
were punctuated by so many cords on the wrist above Hunter's thumbs they
resembled wires on a piano. The cephalic vein, basilica vein, and median
cubital vein practically leapt off Hunter's white skin even in this relaxed
state of unconsciousness. Alexi hoped that the boy wasn't dehydrated, but
all of these thoughts fled from his mind when he noted how horrible the
wounds on Hunter's wrist looked. Blood literally started dripping from
several breaks in the skin, and it made him want to cry for his patient as
he sought to stop the bleeding by patting them gently with a washcloth.
   After about fifteen minutes, Alexi felt that the lesions were clean
enough to apply the ointment and the bandages and he did so as quickly as
possible.
   "If I see those fucking assholes that did this to him again," Alexi said
in anger, "I'm going to make them wish they were dead."
   Paul just nodded and gave Alexi a hug. "It's difficult to watch, but
we're doing what we can do for him. If he was conscious, he'd thank us."
   "I know," Alexi said. "Let's get the rest of this off him. I know he's
got more burns like this around his ankles."
   On Timeron knight armor, the form-fitted metal piece that covered the
ass provided an anchor point for both the cuirass and the codpiece, and it
was called a butt tasset. On Hunter's armor, there was a similar piece with
a small valve over the anus that Alexi imagined would allow Hunter to squat
and shit without taking his armor off. As well, the codpiece on the front
had carefully hidden clasps that could be undone for a quick piss. As long
as the bolts attaching the butt tasset to the cuisses on the upper thighs
remained in place, the butt tasset would stay on. Removing the four bolts
on both sides (thereby separating the butt tasset from the cuisses) would
essentially make it fall off once the codpiece got removed.
   The butt tasset on this armor that Hunter wore (and the ones Alexi had
studied on Timeron knights) looked almost identical in that they were short
up top to expose all of the pubic hair above the penis once the breastplate
got discarded. Alexi suspected this wasn't intentional. Rather, a side
effect of engineering armor to provide maximum flexibility at the
waist. The fact that armor donned hastily might have pubic hair poking from
the creases was not a concern. This is why Timeron knights wore tabards
that extended down over the groin area to maintain a clean and polished
appearance. But as Alexi started to reach for Hunter's bulging cup, he
hesitated and just gaped at the thing because it cradled the one item that
he really desired to look at but felt wrong to do.
   "What's on your mind?" Paul asked.
   "If anything, he's only mildly bruised there," Alexi said. "It would be
an invasion of privacy to take it off. I know both of us want to, but I'm
saying no. Let's just get his leg armor off and treat the damaged skin on
his ankles."
   Paul looked disappointed but quickly agreed. "It's the right thing to
do. At least we get to look at his feet."
   Alexi smiled and started to work on the bolts that tied the butt tasset
to both cuisses. While he did this, Paul pulled on the leather boots Hunter
wore, exposing both greaves and the metal sabatons that encased Hunter's
feet (and these Alexi paused to examine).
   Unique only began to describe them.
   The molded metal shoes had a dozen or more accordion like folds to
provide maximum flexibility. Each had a sole made from some kind of black
material that looked like rubber but was much harder yet had a kind of
"give" to it; the stuff on the heel was an inch thick. Through this tough
black sole were drilled several holes, and Alexi saw with the lantern light
that they held sharp ended cibrian cleats. Additionally, each sabaton had
five separated toes that Alexi believed exactly matched the dimensions of
Hunter's own.
   "I've never seen shoes like that," Paul said. "His toes are long and
skinny; all except for the big toes which look a bit wider above the
joint."
   "What do you think of them?" Alexi asked.
   "Sexy, arousing, and a half dozen other adjectives," came Paul's
response. "But you already knew that. I love how long and narrow his feet
are, and he has high arches if this sabaton is any indication. Whoever
designed these was an expert metalsmith. The folds here account for
incredible flexibility."
   "I'm beginning to think this wasn't designed by a man," Alexi said.
   "What do you mean?" Paul asked.
   Alexi showed Paul the helmet with all of the controls on the inside.
   "That's really weird."
   Alexi just nodded and went back to work. Once he loosened the bolts
holding the greaves to the sabatons, the armor separated, and Alexi was
able to take them apart to expose both of Hunter's muscular and quite
hairless legs. There at the ankles (just as he suspected) they found more
red welts that needed cleaning and bandages. Alexi got to work, trying to
ignore how beautiful Hunter's limbs appeared here in the firelight. Through
gleaming skin, the muscles of the lean upper thighs flowed through to
Hunter's impressive calves and Achilles tendons. The slender gracefulness
of his long legs was interrupted only by the prominence of the femoral
artery, which branched off like a tree into dozens of smaller veins and
(lower on each leg), the anterior tibial artery itself.
   "How does anyone get so...cut?" Paul asked. "That's the only way I can
describe this. I mean...Mr. Hunter has skin but his body is so raw and
shredded that I swear I'm looking at one of the skinless cadavers in
anatomy class. I can identify every muscle that's on the exam. This is
called the rectus femoris and this is the vastus medialis. Alexi, you can
see where his hamstrings separate. That's not normal but the crease is
right here. Bloody hell."
   "I agree," Alexi said. "His diet probably consists of meat or protein,
and that's it."
   "Is that healthy?" Paul asked.
   Alexi shrugged. "It must be. Hell, I don't know but I love pie and cake
too much to give up for anything like this, although I'm sure there's more
to it than tossing sweets. The strength in this body is hard to imagine. No
wonder he can go toe to toe with giants."
   Alexi started to dress Hunter's wounds, applying the healing ointment,
and cutting bandages. Paul grabbed one of the discarded leather boots and
sniffed at the top.
   "Smell good?" Alexi asked.
   Paul exhaled. "It just smells like the rest of him. Like leather, hay,
rain, and a little mustiness mixed in with the scent of metal and weapon
oil. Yeah it smells good."
   Alexi glanced over at Paul and saw that Paul's normally chocolate irises
had turned to gold circles.
   "Holy fuck, Paul. Your eyes!" Alexi exclaimed. "They've turned gold."
   In response to Alexi's outburst, Paul dropped Hunter's boot and stood
up. "Do you have a mirror?"
   Alexi nodded, tossing him one from his doctor's bag.
   Paul looked at his reflection for a minute, and then handed the mirror
back to Alexi. "How am I going to explain this? Alexi, you know what this
means, right? Mr. Hunter can produce royal jelly. He's a golden male. I
can't believe this is happening."
   Alexi swallowed hard, and then noticed for the first time a second
tattoo on Hunter's body. This one was on Hunter's right ankle, and it was
about the size of a penny. But the color was very distinct and showed the
head of a black dragon in front of a red moon.
   "I don't know," Alexi answered Paul. "All of this is kind of
overwhelming. Maybe you can wear sunglasses or something or make up a story
about it. Come here and take a look at this mark. What do you think it is?"
   Paul knelt once more next to Alexi and examined it under a magnifying
glass that Alexi handed to him. Then he let out a whistle and grabbed his
book, flipping through the pages like mad. When he found the passage he
wanted to read aloud, Paul spoke. "The last queen of Atlantea gave birth to
a boy believed to be perfectly engineered through flesh-crafting, and it
cost the royal family a fortune. The magic involved was tremendous, but a
babe was born that had no physical flaws. He shall be known by a mark that
resembles the head of a black dragon in front of a red moon, and he shall
be great in power yet cursed all the same."
   "Cursed? How?" Alexi asked.
   Paul shook his head. "I don't know, but this means he's a prince,
Alexi. He's the last prince of an extinct race."
   Alexi nodded his head in shock. Then he finished dressing Hunter's
wounds. Exhausted, he pulled a blanket over the sleeping assassin and then
grabbed Paul by the arm. "We can't speak of this...not to anyone. In the
morning, we'll get you some frames to cover your irises, and I'll use
necromancy to darken the glass. We've got exams in the morning too, and I'm
going to need your help to steal some food for him."
   "All right," Paul said. He got up and filled a glass of water and left
it by Hunter's bed.
   Alexi also followed suit, and opened the larder where he kept his own
provisions and removed a wedge of cheese, a piece of bread, and a cooked
turkey leg. He put these on a plate and left them next to Mr. Hunter in
case he woke up in the middle of the night and was hungry.
   Then the two of them went into the next room and crashed on one of the
other mattresses, completely exhausted.


				   *****

The complete novel is now available to read at
http://slckismet.blogspot.com/p/discussion-board-for.html under the label
"The Orb of Winter" if you care to read ahead.

Are there any artists out there willing to draw some pics for my story? If
so, please email me. There is an "Orb of Winter" map now in both the NEWS
section of my website and in the FORUMS of my website.

If you go to my website directly from this posting, you will want to begin
with "CHAPTER TWENTY."