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Miyori's Chronicles

A Lost Eagle Part 2

"So hot..."

I had been walking for three days in the rocky desert between the Miyori Mountains and the metropolis of Bahjel. There were no roads on the rugged plateau, which made the journey quite difficult and dangerous. The winter had not tempered the dry, burning air of the basalt expanses. Plus, my pads were sore from the razor-sharp rocks and stones on the ground, forcing me to stop many times to change my bloodstained straps.

Fortunately, the journey was almost complete. The dark red miasma that only I could perceive covered the sky, telling me I was nearing the city. Yet I had seen very few travellers so far. Skeletons and mummified corpses scattered the desert. Their souls were so battered that their words were confusing and chaotic. Hunger and pain had driven them to madness, their bodies fleeing the city. I dared not imagine what awaited me there, nor how anyone could have the idea of even coming to live there.

The Divine Cities of Sumeris were supposedly the world bequeathed by the gods to their children as a model of heaven. Though I wasn't aware of all the workings of such a depraved society, I knew that it was far from the dream it claimed to embody. The Astats ruled the Cities and oversaw every aspect, deciding the life and death of each of their subjects, instituting slavery, hedonism and the cult of profit.

If any souls could believe in this divine lie, I was insensitive to it, for my senses showed me the truth it hid. All around me I could feel the horror filling the air like a smell of putrefaction. The spirits had deserted the region many years ago, creating this barren, lifeless desert of basalt that finished those who fled the hell that Sumeris truly was.

My father had told me many horrible stories about the Cities, especially about Bahjel. He had told me how the 'Casteless' were treated, tortured in the streets, sometimes raped and disembowelled for the sole sake of pleasure or for an unfortunate word. Father had done his job so well that even without having reached the city walls, I already wanted to run away like a frightened kitten.

Anxiety and thirst gripped my throat. I stopped for a moment to open my bundle and take a skin flask that I had filled from a stream after landing on the edge of the plateau. It barely contained enough to sustain me, so I brought it to my muzzle to squeeze out every drop.

"Would you like some fresh water, stranger?" I heard faintly behind me.

I startled and jumped up, clawing at it reflexively, ready to fight. My flask fell to the ground and lost what little liquid it had left after I let go of it on that same instinct. With my tail taut and dishevelled, I turned slowly to see a cheetah not much younger than myself. He wore a simple tunic of worn cloth with holes in various places. His fur was unkempt, matted on his arms and face. I had neither felt nor heard him approaching.

"You look thirsty," he insisted.

I watched the stranger for a few seconds without saying a word, only to find that he was unarmed and in a posture that didn't show any sign of aggression. I relaxed, although vigilant, and picked up my gourd to put it away without taking my eyes off the teenager.

"Hello," I greeted him. "You scared me, cheetah. To be honest, I wasn't expecting to find a living soul. The desert is deadly from what I've seen."

"And yet, here you are," he smiled.

"Yes, I am... I need to get to Bahjel, and there is no way to reach the town from the mountains. Are you from the city?"

"Follow me," he answered, "my farm is near."

He turned and walked away without waiting for me. There was something odd about him and the way he spoke. Noticing that the wind was picking up, kicking up dust and ashes, I followed him without asking more, even if only to find shelter from the oncoming storm.

We walked long enough for dusk to set in, becoming night as the storm took full force. With my hood up, I hid my face in my arm, filtering the ashes with my fur, only looking out to make sure that I didn't lose my guide. He didn't seem the least disturbed and moved inexorably onwards.

We finally reached a fence, revealing the remains of what had probably been a field years before. The plants were still standing, petrified and immortalized in the illusion of life. As I walked around it, still following the teenager, I saw his shack, just as decayed as appeared the rest of his estate. Like everywhere else in the desert, there was no spirit, no life. Only death prevailed here, and I was now sure that this young man in front of me was not alive.

He opened the door of the building, whose weakened hinges screamed in pain. I hesitated to enter. The Walkers, corpses possessed by spirits, are unpredictable beings, sometimes trapping stray or lost victims. I could have destroyed it at that very moment, but I was not in Boreas' domain and that was not my task. Also, there was a possibility that he could still have his soul, which would not make him any different from when he was alive.

I walked past the stoop, looking at the cheetah's livid face. The illusion was now broken, and I saw its glassy eyes, and the mummified shreds of flesh. It still showed no signs of malignancy. The interior of the building showed years of decay. Some broken furniture and storage scattered the large common room, and in one corner, I saw the family bed. Two mummified bodies were also there, dressed in garments as simple as those of the teenager. They were surely his parents that the corruption of Bahjel hadn't reanimated.

"Please have a seat," he suggested, pointing to a chair by an ashen table. "I'll get you something to drink. Are you hungry?"

"Yes, I am," I said, sitting down warily.

"I should have some bread left in the storeroom."

His weak voice was still that of a young, growing man. It betrayed nothing of the possession of an intruder who would not have complete control of his new body. I watched him go through the cellar hatch and waited, ready to respond, in case he made a surprise attack. But nothing happened when he returned with an amphora and what must have been an edible loaf of bread many seasons ago.

"Here you go," the cheetah smiled as he placed the food on the table.

"Uh, thanks."

I picked up a nearby cup to find it was full of dust. After opening the amphora, despite its age, I found to my surprise that the water was drinkable. I emptied the cup, filled it and took a sip under the curious eyes of the Walker.

"It's been so long since I've had a visitor," he said with a touch of melancholy as he sat down at the table.

"How long?" I asked, sniffing curiously at the piece of fossilized bread in my hand.

"I don't know. Since the valley burned, I think."

"The Blaze, twenty years ago..."

I was not yet born, but Father had told me about the day when the green valley became an incandescent sea, destroying all life, shortly after the Sumerians founded Bahjel.

We in the village never knew what had happened. It must have been a curse from the evil in Sumeris.

"It's unusual for a Walker like you to keep his body for so long," I remarked, now convinced that he was not a danger.

"I-I didn't deserve to join the gods like Mum and Dad." He crossed his arms, visibly flustered. "I was a terrible son."

As he opened to me, he allowed me to sense vaguely his emotions shining through in his spiritual energy. He felt guilty, hurt, torn between love and hate. I refrained from asking him for details, understanding that a heavy and painful past had probably prevented him from following them.

"I can help you die if it's your wish," I offered with a smile, not quite believing it.

"No... I will stay and guide the wanderers until the Lion deems me worthy of him."

I growled at the mention of that name. This god obviously cared nothing for the torments of his subjects in his own domain. However, my oaths obliged me to respect the wishes of this soul.

"What is your name? I'm Ikita."

"Ari..." He stood up and walked over to a shelf still miraculously holding on the wall. "I can probably assist you. You'll never reach Bahjel by walking through the desert. The Lion has erected a divine barrier to prevent Walkers like me and any soul from crossing the threshold of the desert, but I know a way."

He picked up a wooden box that lay under a small mound of ash. He unlocked it to show me its content. I went over to him and saw a disc and a needle spinning on itself in a small glass cupola.

"The compass shows the way," he explained. "Just follow the direction of the pointer and you'll reach the city."

I grabbed the item and examined it from every angle. I had never seen such an artefact and couldn't understand its magic, either. Yet I felt no spiritual energy in it.

"All right, Ari," I said, stowing the compass in my bag. "I must go, but I hope you will eventually find peace."

"One day the Lion will forgive me..."

He turned and walked over to the bed where his parents were lying and joined them in a morbid but strangely warm embrace. I felt all his remorse, sadness and despair, like a torrent flooding my soul. I couldn't stay any longer, so I walked out the door and left the farm at a quick pace, wiping the tears streaming down my cheeks.

The storm had subsided and, with the artefact now guiding me, my path through the desert was much easier. I followed its indications scrupulously, taking strange detours that made no apparent sense. Eventually, however, I reached more welcoming lands. At the bend of a rock, I could finally see the high walls of the city.

The Divine City of Bahjel facing me showed its dreadful splendour. Its massive, finely crafted walls outlined the horizon in an endless ochre belt, the battlements of which could reach the tops of the highest hills. The summits of the clay buildings barely protruded above the structure, and a crimson aura that oozed into the night sky like a poison crowned them. Just the sight of it made me nauseous and evoked dark feelings that I tried my best to ignore.

Nearby, a few hundred yards away, I could discern an opening in the ramparts guarded by two golden statues of ridiculously oversized divine lions in armour. Its large, dark doorway, lit by bright torches, bore inscriptions that were unknown to me. I approached and saw at the foot of the statues two cheetahs, armed with spears and dressed in strange scarlet and gold outfits, many jewels adorning their naked limbs.

As I came within a few yards of the door, one feline left his post and approached me, both suspicious and curious. I didn't know if I should feel in danger or not.

"Good evening, traveller!"

"Good evening," I replied with a candour and energy. "May I ask who you are? My name is Ikita."

"Canan is my name..." he said slowly, clearly surprised by my verve. "I am a guard of the Ministry of Bahjel and this is my door."

"Considering its size, you must be proud of it."

I smiled at my words, but the soldier didn't look the least bit amused. He glanced at his colleague near the entrance and the latter stood on guard. I smelled a certain tension; they were wondering if I were an enemy.

"Forgive me for this line of humour," I continued. "I was following a trade caravan and got lost. I only wish to enter the city and have a rest."

"We were not expecting anyone else, and I do not recognize your species."

He turned around me to examine my body from every angle. It fascinated him, even if he was obviously confused. His companion watched from the distance without batting an eyelid. After a full circle, he stopped and thought for a moment before turning briefly once more to the other cheetah.

"What do you think, Ren? Should we let him through?"

"Well," said his companion, "if he followed the caravan through the tunnels, it's because those Border Guard jerks let him pass, right?"

"What exactly are you?" the soldier asked me brutally.

"A... snow leopard."

"Another feline? All right, go ahead. But the laws won't protect you here, so avoid doing anything stupid."

He walked away to resume his duties without taking his eyes off me. I had a bad feeling that I couldn't shake off. A few steps were for me to have already the impression of entering the infernal lair of an evil god. I put on my hood, walking on past the guards and through the great obsidian portico that would see me enter the unknown of a world for which I was not ready at all.

The avenue before me was unlike anything I had ever seen before. I met no humans, but dozens of my peers instead of all ages from many species. They walked the streets talking, shouting, laughing and arguing passionately. While some people looked at me with interest, most paid me no attention, which suited me perfectly.

The buildings all looked the same, though very different from the wood and fabric huts I had always known. The walls were of clay of a dark, dreary colour that contrasted with the various brightly tinted fabrics decorating the tops of the doors or crossing the streets. Life seemed intense in the metropolis despite the time of day, whereas in Yarita, it was quiet from dusk onwards.

After an interminable time of wandering, I finally reached a market. Food, objects, and clothes that were alien to me filled the merchant stalls. I was afraid and curious at the same time about all these surrounding wonders. Here, more than anywhere else, I sniffed unknown and complex scents of decay, sweat, sophistication and even sex. Some of them repulsed me, but others... others turned out to be much more intoxicating.

When I approached the tables on which the artisans displayed the fruits of their creation, they did not hesitate to praise the refinement of their works before ignoring me when they learned I had no money to offer them. However, some of them looked at me differently, with both interest and envy. My tail tensed as I felt their desire to possess me, like chains shackling my mind in a will to servitude.

Suddenly feeling unwell, I quickened my pace towards the centre of the city, fleeing into the tumultuous torrent of the crowd. The blazing lights of the oil lamps illuminating the path burned my skin, as if my fur were in the grip of an inferno. Feeling the panic, I watched every single angle of the clay bodies of the city from the corner of my eye, sensing a devouring lust hiding behind the shadows of faceless figures. Jaws and fangs opened and snapped in an uncontrollable frenzy, licking, caressing and corrupting the slightest innocence, surrendering to an invisible and omnipresent master.

I stopped beside a plank barrier to catch my breath and my composure. My breathing had become erratic, hard. A few people were watching me with suspicion and curiosity, probably wondering what was doing as the stranger I was. Trembling, I raised my flask to my lips to refresh myself, but found it was hopelessly empty. Then, a person approached me cautiously.

"Are you all right, foreigner?" they asked with pity.

"Yes..." I replied breathlessly. "I think I just need some water."

"There is a small water well a little further on. Let me get you..."

The moment they put their hand on my arm, I pushed them away in an irrational panic. They stepped back a few paces, frightened themselves.

"P-pardon me," I stammered.

I hurriedly walked away. I didn't understand what was happening to me. The environment was oppressing me as it rarely had before. Floods of uncontrollable emotions overwhelmed my mind. I felt watched and desired. It was as if every glance expressed the threat of me being devoured by a rabid pack. I felt being a prey.

I found the waterhole the person had told me about: a clay well-like structure containing clear, cool water. I picked up a cup nearby and dipped it into the liquid to bring it to my maw. Even the clear water, the source of life, tasted like death here. I emptied the contents onto my face to regain my composure. When I opened my eyes again, more horrors came into sight.

I saw naked foxes, wolves and dogs tied to poles on plank platforms around which a great mass of merchants and onlookers dressed in colourful finery and jewels jostled each other while waving their purses. Many of these miserable victims were thin and hopeless, likely resolved to a fate from which they could not escape. Their tormentors treated them as merchandise and deeply examined them, even in their very intimacy, to satisfy the vicious demands of those interested. Was this the slavery my father had told me about? Why were there children among them?

My discomfort was such that I could not hold back my revulsion and spilled it onto the floor in a stench that mingled with the rest of the city's sickly effluvia.

"Remember your teachings," I sighed to myself, trying to focus. "Let the flow go. Don't listen to it. Regain control of your mind."

I breathed in deeply and took the time to clean my maw, trying to ignore my emotions, but it was almost impossible. My eyes couldn't be closed without continuing seeing the horror. I couldn't plug my ears without hearing their pain. I couldn't stop breathing without smelling lust and blood. Even my whiskers were reacting to an unhealthy vibration in the air.

I couldn't stay here. I had to find a quiet place to regain control. So I ran away from this hell, zigzagging through the compact crowd. When I perceived an oasis of calm in a nearby building, looking like the others, I entered it by instinct, without questions.

"Welcome, my dear friend."

Everything was suddenly quiet again, as in the middle of the eye of a hurricane. A bare-breasted vixen stood before me, in a red outfit covering only her lower body, waiting for my requests. Other foxes of both genders were busily serving, in evocative attitudes, guests reclining on couches, lounging in heaps of warm, brightly coloured silk cushions. It was one of those establishments that Kobe liked to describe to me.

"Hi," I replied awkwardly to the lady, "I'm just passing by."

"A visitor from a foreign land, aren't you?"

She approached me with a languid and interested look. She took my arm and examined my fur and muscles, tracing them with her fingertips.

"I... I don't have any money," I said, not knowing how to react.

"That's okay... a gift of yourself is also a good payment," she giggled.

"I'm not sure I understand."

The atmosphere had become almost supernatural, going from oppressive to bewitching. The vixen almost clung to me and ran her nice, delicate hands over my chest and face, gently caressing my fur and moving sensuously down to my instrument of desire, which she felt, and rubbed as she slid under the cloth. I didn't know what to do, as if something paralyzed me.

"But I see, dear friend, that I am not to your tastes."

She smiled as she quickly withdrew her hand. Without waiting for any word from me, she grabbed me and pulled me deeper into that lair of lust with her. I let her lead me in, not wanting to offend her or cause any trouble. The experience I had had shortly before still confused me, but the surrounding eroticism gave me some relief.

She led me to the back of her establishment, and we entered a room separated from the rest by a simple purple silk curtain. It was lit by a single light on one wall, generating a warm, subdued light. I saw two couches arranged symmetrically in the room, separated by a high table with dried fruits and foods that were unknown to me. Their sweet and strong scent filled my nostrils.

"Take a seat, my dear friend," she explained, still holding my hand, "and let yourself be lulled by the hospitality of our lovers and hosts. Only pleasure is the rule here, so let the wine and your desire carry you. Don't worry about money. Your satisfaction is our only currency." She removed slowly my clothes. "There is no need to conceal your body in this place."

I let her remove my waistcoat without resistance. She wrapped her arms around my waist in a sensual gesture and untied the knot of my drawstring, dropping the mask of my intimacy at my feet. I freed myself from it as she gently stroked the base of my tail, making me shiver despite my indifference to her charms. However, the atmosphere of sensuality was intoxicating, and I let it carry me.

"Keep your jewels and bracelets," she whispered in my ear in a pleasant voice. "They show off your body particularly well. Lie down. Another guest will join you soon and this entire experience will take on its full meaning."

She kissed the side of my muzzle before stepping aside and hastily withdrawing, leaving me nude and alone in the room. I gathered up my clothes and placed them on a shelf near the entrance before complying and lying down on one couch.

"What the hell am I doing?" I asked myself in silence as I stared at the ceiling.

Everything had happened so fast that I had hardly realized that I had been in a panic a few minutes before. My calm was unnatural, almost supernatural. I couldn't help but think back to that kiss, even though women had never moved me romantically, nor aroused me any way. Yet I felt pleasure at this attention, which grew as the time passed, alone in this room, to the point my sex responded to this feeling.

The curtain did not take long to shift and reveal who would be my partner in this new experience. A golden-furred lion, tall and well-built, with perfectly shaped muscles magnifying his divine nudity, stepped forward with disconcerting confidence. His tail was long and beautiful, with a tuft of braided fur floating around in a beautiful pattern. The lion's posture reflected his charisma and strength. His smile and his gaze captivated me, filling my cheeks with an adolescent warmth, so strong that my body expressed it with a sincerity that I could not disguise.

"Hello, pretty kitty," he greeted me in a deep, soulful voice.

"H-Hello..." I stammered with emotion.

With a confident pace, he walked to the second couch and laid down gracefully in front of me, showing off his curves and his virility, which I couldn't avert my eyes from. He raised his hand and snapped his fingers in a dry, imperious sound. Two vulpine males dressed only in jewels entered the room in a fluid and agile movement. One of them played a wind instrument that I had never seen before, whose sweet melody resonated deep in my soul. The second carried a towel, and a bowl filled with an ointment whose scent aroused my excitement, making me lose my mind.

The lion took a long stretch and relaxed, letting the servant rub the honey-like oil on his body. When he had finished, he came to me to attend to my body. No sooner had the towel touched the fur of my chest than a shiver of pleasure ran through me, drawing a moan that I could not suppress.

"I see you are experiencing the Veil of Eros for the first time, kitten," said the handsome lion.

"What is it?" I asked in a muffled voice, my eyelids closed with the unspeakable pleasure that ran through me.

"A gift from the Lion to his subjects: the purest essence of carnal pleasure. A sacred ritual that the Temple performs in its sanctuaries, provided free to all."

"It is..."

"Divine?" he finished.

"Yes."

I opened my eyes with difficulty to see the lion get up and approach me with a supernatural aura, illuminating me with the rays of his beauty. As he sat at my feet, I sat up with effort. My body was vibrating in an erotic culmination that I had never experienced before. He placed a powerful hand on my thigh, causing an erection that threatened to erupt at any moment to bead profusely.

"Let yourself go..."

He snapped his finger again, and a new servant entered the room. He carried a tray with a delicate and exciting smelling food on it. My mind, fogged by the intensity of the desire overwhelming me, could not identify the food, but I didn't care: the taste was my only wish.

The lion took a piece with his claws and took a bite before bringing it delicately to my mouth. I opened it, salivating at the thought of tasting this ambrosia. He placed it on my tongue, leaving his fingers in my mouth as I gently closed it greedily, licking and sucking his fingers with lust so as to not to lose any drop. An intoxicating sensation I had never known invaded my whole being.

"Good, kitten..."

The hand on my thigh moved closer to my sex, which let out another stream of the fruit of my lust onto my trembling belly. He rubbed my shaft and gripped my sack tightly, bringing me to the edge. From his gaze emanated a pristine white light that invaded me to the depths of my soul, chaining me with the same sensation I had felt at the market, but infinitely stronger. I could no longer resist it. I simply couldn't.

"Feel my blessing."

His voice was divine, unspeakable. With another rub of his hand, my ecstasy exploded with such power that my mind broke, leaving me unable to think, plunging me into the musings of a fantasy in which I was now imprisoned, a slave to the will of my enemy. His last words echoed in the abyss in which I was sinking.

"You belong to me now, Servant of Boreas."