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Shadows of Virtue

Chapter Two

© Cederwyn Whitefurr

18th September, 2024

All Rights Reserved.

When one's convictions and faith are tested and even challenged, Lady Wynn finds herself drawn into a philosophical debate with her unicorn mount. Her vows are unshaken, yet in the shadows of temptation, even the strongest wills can falter...

For five years, Wynne and Seraphel had travelled together, their bond growing as they faced countless trials, battles and challenges. Through each test, they grew closer, more confident as mount and rider. As their journeys took them farther from the familiar borders of the order into new and strange lands, their connection deepened, and they found themselves isolated from the very institution Lady Wynne once served.

As they rode down a shadowy forest path, Lady Wynne's thoughts turned inwards, her tubular ears twitching and one hand resting on Seraphel's neck, attuned to his every hoof step, breath and thought, as he was to her.

How long has it been since I returned to the order? A season? More? I am resolute in my faith, for it protects me and guides me, it...

A gentle nicker from Seraphel broke her reverie as he continued walking patiently, his thoughts gentle and non-intrusive, flowed into her mind through their bond.

I think, Lady Wynne, it is time we made camp and rested. A doe you may be, but your armour is heavy upon my back. Besides, why should you return to the order? You're a knight, are you not? Sworn and sanctified, girded, as you say, in your armour and your faith? Is it not a knight's quest to seek out the darkness and vanquish it? You don't need the order, my lady, you have me. Together, we shall face down even a dragon, as with you by my side – I feel invincible.

Lady Wynne smiled, pride swelling within her as she gently stroked Seraphel's neck. He obediently came to a stop, and she dismounted to continue her affectionate gesture.

You're right, my loyal mount, we need not run back to the order, I am, as you say, a knight – honour bound and fated to search out the darkness, the evil ones and with you by my side, you're the only companion I need. Yes, Seraphel, you are wise and right.

He merely snorted and flicked an ear, a slight smile on his lips.

*

Wynne sat in her tent, her armour neatly set aside, replaced by simple robes. The night was calm, but inside her mind, a storm raged. Since bonding with Seraphel, her unicorn mount, she had felt something stir within her—an unease she couldn't fully explain. It wasn't from the creature itself; no, Seraphel was magnificent. His beauty was beyond anything she had ever seen, his power immense. And yet, there was something else beneath the surface, something darker she couldn't ignore.

Lady Wynne? Come the telepathic thoughts of Seraphel into her mind, cool and calming, like a spring breeze. What troubles you so?

With a sigh, Wynne crawled out of her tent, stretching in the cool night air, as she walked over and sat down beside Seraphel. "It's nothing, Seraphel. Just the burden of my duties."

Gazing at her, his eyes luminous and shining upon her, he gently nuzzled her and knelt down, placing his head on her lap in a soothing gesture, his gentle snorts ruffling her robes. Ah, the burdens of duty, Seraphel mused, his words in her mind smooth and soothing. They are heavy indeed. Sometimes, the very path we choose to walk can be a source of great pain. Have you ever considered that perhaps your oath, though noble, might be confining you?

Wynne frowned, her fingers absently stroking Seraphel's mane. "Confining me? I...I don't understand. My vows are my guide, my shield against darkness."

Seraphel's gaze was intense, yet gentle. But is not the essence of your virtue to rise above constraints? What if the constraints themselves, are a form of darkness? Your oath was born from a desire to protect and serve, as was my own, but what if it also limits your ability to grow, to truly embrace the truth of who you are?

His words, though seemingly wise, planted seeds of doubt. Wynne's mind churned with questions.

Could my vows truly limit my growth?

Consider this, Seraphel continued, his tone soft yet compelling. You possess a deep strength within you—one that is not just about adherence to the rules but about understanding and embracing your true self. Your struggle is not a sign of weakness, but a call to explore deeper truths.

Wynne's hear raced as she tried to reconcile her feelings. Could this be true? Have I been blind to something essential?

Seraphel nuzzled her gently, his touch warm and comforting. Your strength is not solely in your adherence to oaths but in your ability to understand and integrate all aspects of yourself. Your primal instincts, your deepest desires—they are not enemies but parts of a greater whole. By rejecting them, you may be denying a part of your true strength. Who knows when you may need it—and be found wanting on the field of battle?

Wynne's thoughts whirled. She was torn between the reassuring warmth of Seraphel's presence and the unsettling implications of his words. The more she listened, the more she felt the boundaries of her vows beginning to blur.

"If I embrace this...this part of myself," Wynne hesitated. "what happens to my service, my purpose?"

Seraphel's eyes sparkled with a hint of confusion. My lady? Your purpose, Lady Wynne, is to seek truth and strength. Embracing all facets of yourself, even those that conflict with your current understanding, may lead you to a deeper, more powerful sense of purpose and self. True virtue is not about rigid adherence but about understanding and harmony.

As Seraphel's words settled in her mind, Wynne's heart was heavy with confusion. His seemingly benign guidance steered her into uncharted territory, where her virtues and desires collided.

She lay down beside him, trying to find solace in his presence. Am I truly lost? Her thoughts were plagued by doubt, yet she found comfort in Seraphel's gentle touch.

You are not lost, my dear Wynne. You are on a journey, and I am here to help guide you through it. His thoughts were a soothing balm, yet beneath them had a deeper meaning, leading her further from the path she once knew.

Wynne closed her eyes, the conflict within her unresolved, her convictions tested, Seraphel's love and kindness enfolding her. She clung to his warmth, hoping to find clarity in the murky waters of her heart.

Why do you resist what you are? His words come to her.

Her hand paused, about to stroke his neck, a cold shiver rippling through her. "Whatever do you mean?"

You are a doe. A child born of the forest, Wynne. Though time may have shaped you into something else, I know what stirs in your heart. The wild spirit of your ancestors still beats within you. You feel it, don't you? The call to something deeper, older, more powerful...

Wynne trembled slightly before her training took over and she stiffened, her appearance becoming regal and proper, as befitting a knight, but inside, the wild, unspoken call of the forest echoed louder, threatening to undo everything she had fought and suffered for... "Seraphel? I took an oath... one that has guided me and kept me grounded through the worst trials. I... I can not...

He flicked an ear, remaining silent, merely gazing up at her with admiration and love, as a bonded mount to its rider.

"I am a knight, sworn to honour and..." Wynne's voice faltered, her words suddenly feeling hollow, as if spoken by someone else. She had always been steadfast, sure of her purpose, but now... there was doubt. Where had this unease come from? It gnawed at her like a whisper from deep within, a voice she had long thought she'd silenced within herself.

Before she could suppress it again, Seraphel's warm presence flooded her mind, wrapping around her thoughts like armour, protecting, comforting...

You are of the forest, my rider. Your heart is of the forest, pure and ancient. It is no weakness, my lady. You have much-untapped power within you—power you can draw upon.

"Seraphel? I am a holy knight, a paragon of virtue and light, sworn to protect the innocent and to forsake my earthly pleasures, for such is an abomination, a crime against the God's, the holy book -"

A gentle snort came from him as he flicked his ear and gazed up at her, his luminous eyes held hers, and despite her training, Wynne could feel her resolve wavering, as though his very gaze reached into her soul, urging her to look deeper within herself.

Where was this light you so cherish when they tormented you? What goodness shielded you when they sought to break your spirit? Abused you, degraded you, for daring to try and rise above your station? What were their words? No doe shall ever be a knight? What have they done, how have they treated you? You rose above it all, proved them wrong, and earned your knighthood not because you are weak—because you are strong, stronger than they are!

Wynn's lips quivered. Her thoughts churned. She had locked away those memories, buried them beneath her oath of duty and service to the order, but now they surged back within her, raw and painful, bringing with them the bitter, acrid taste of betrayal.

"They... they had to break me. To make me purge myself of my former self, of the lies and guilt and immorality. A knight is none of these things! We are a paragon of the light, of justice and standing against the..."

Her voice trailed off, her gaze faltering under Seraphel's unwavering, luminous eyes. The air seemed to grow heavy with the weight of her unresolved emotions. The very ground beneath her felt unsteady as the memories rose to the surface, relentless in their resurgence.

Seraphel nuzzled her gently, his warm breath a stark contrast to the cold storm brewing in her mind. His touch was both soothing and invasive, a quiet force that seemed to draw the tension from her.

Wynne? You need not fight so hard against your true nature, his thoughts echoed softly, each word a caress that penetrated deeper than mere comfort. You have always felt the call of the forest, the wild spirit that courses through your veins. Why suppress what is a part of you? I know how you cried yourself to sleep in that cold cell, cursing your instincts, your body, and how the rut affected you. Why suppress what is a part of you? The light you uphold is just one side of your existence, Seraphel's thoughts persisted gently. Embracing your entire self, including your connection to the world, might not weaken your purpose but rather define it. The order's constraints have limited you. Consider the possibility this primal side could lead you to a new kind of strength—a strength that might even surpass the limits of your current path.

Wynne's hands trembled as she gripped the edge of her robes, trying to maintain her composure. The conflict growing within her was unbearable, a clash between her sworn duties and the primal call that Seraphel was awakening within her.

Her voice was barely a whisper, "But... if I forsake my oath, what becomes of my purpose? Of my service? A paladin must rise up above such earthly temptations, the sins of the flesh and all its corruptible vices!"

Seraphel's presence in her mind was a subtle blend of calmness. It would be best if you found_ your way, my rider,_ he suggested, his voice smooth and insistent. Let the forest whisper its secrets to you, as it does to me. There's a harmony to be found between your oath and your true self. Trust in our bond—it might just reveal a path to you you haven't considered. His words were gentle, but carried an undertone of persuasion, nudging Wynne towards a choice she had not yet made.

Wynne's breathing grew shallow as she struggled with the thoughts that filled her. The idea of integration, of truly, building a bridge between the human world and the wilds...

"Seraphel, such you speak of, it...it is a betrayal of everything I have fought for." Wynne's faith grew like a white-hot flame within her, bolstering her belief and faith in her path.

I asked not for you to turn from your path, Wynne. I merely suggested there is a way, to truly walk the line of both. Deny your past, you become locked and rigid in your thinking, human-like. You know what they have done. You have seen their cruelty, depravity and wickedness, haven't you? HAVEN'T YOU?

His last thoughts lashed at her worse than the scourges the priests had used on her as punishment for her perceived wickedness when she was a mere acolyte. The way the cruel lashes tore at her fur and skin, their words and chants, compelling her to confess her crimes, to plead for the mercy of the light. For she was beast-kin, the darkness and animal-like urges needed to be purged – expunged, purified...

Wynn's fingers curled into fists, as hot, bitter tears began to slide down her cheeks, her voice broken with sobs as she began to speak.

"Seraphel, are you suggesting I abandon everything I have built? The order, my brothers in arms?"

Seraphel's luminous eyes grew brighter, as they widened and his ears twitched backwards slightly.

No, I would never suggest such. I am merely asking you to dwell on my words and embrace the fullness of who you are. The order shaped you, but it has not defined all of you. The darkness you perceive is not an enemy but a part of yourself waiting to be acknowledged. As you are, what you are, they tried to corrupt you, twist you and shape you into their own form, their own rigid, immoral way of thinking and acting. You are not a part of their world, Wynne, nor are you a full part of my own. You stand at the crossroads now, only you can choose your path, I can not choose it for you, nor would I dare.

The weight of Seraphel's words pressed heavily on Wynne's shoulders. She could feel the gnawing unease in her heart, the call of the forest around her, mingling with the pain of her past and the expectations of the present, and the uncertain future ahead of her.

At that moment, Wynne felt an almost overwhelming urge to collapse into Seraphel's embrace, to surrender to the feelings she had long suppressed. Yet, a flicker of defiance still remained, a remnant of her knightly resolve struggling to hold firm against the perceived encroaching darkness.

"Then... what am I to do?" Wynne asked, her voice trembling a she sought some form of guidance that could reconcile the tumult within her.

Seraphel's thoughts were tender and encouraging, but non-committal. You must discover it for yourself, my rider. Let the forest guide you, and in doing so, may you find a path that honours both your oath and your true nature. Trust in yourself, and in the bond that we share.

"Seraphel..." Wynne sniffled, wiping at her eyes with the backs of her hands.

Seraphel's voice, soft and soothing, drifted into Wynne's mind. You seem weary, my lady. Come, please, rest against me. Let me drive these feelings away with my love and warmth for you. Let me provide the comfort you need.

Wynne, overwhelmed by her inner turmoil, shifted closer. Seraphel's warm, inviting belly pressed against her as she laid her head down, his legs encircling her in a gesture that felt both intimate and reassuring. His touch was gentle, his presence comforting, but Wynne felt a tremor ripple through her she couldn't place.

As she settled against him, her mind eased and she dozed, truly feeling comforted and protected against his body, his slow, steady heartbeat reassuring and comforting. He continued to look at her, his expression calm and concerned, his bright, luminous eyes slowly dimming as he tenderly nuzzled her neck and shoulder.

"Seraphel," Wynn began, her eyelids fluttering.

You are safe, my rider, I promise...

*

Sometime before dawn, Wynne stirred through the haze of sleep., A familiar warmth spread through her body, but it was not the comforting presence of Seraphel, who still lay awake and watching herThis warmth was different—insistent and unsettling.

Her breaths quickened, her gasps shallow as she struggled to grasp the strange sensations. A sudden gasp escaped her lips, and she slapped her hands to her muzzle, desperately trying to stifle the moan that threatened to rise.

Seraphel's warm breath against her neck was both soothing and disconcerting. His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply, his luminous eyes widening before a sly smile touched the edge of his leathery lips. You are safe here, Wynne. Embrace my comfort and my love. There is no shame in surrendering what comes naturally.

Despite his reassurances, Wynne's discomfort intensified, her mind racing with confusion. The warmth and growing ache inside her, the pressing urges, seemed to grow with every beat of her heart, challenging her knightly resolve. She tried to focus, to push away the sensations that seemed to be spiralling out of her control.

I cannot be coming into heat, Wynne's mind reeled. I take my herbal medicine—it's meant to suppress such things. I haven't felt these sensations since I was a young doe...

Seraphel's tender nuzzle interrupted her thoughts, his words pressing up against her troubled mind. Let go of your doubts. The heat you feel is a natural part of you. Why resist? His thoughts, though soft, carried an undertone and subtlety that was lost on Wynne.

Wynne's internal conflict deepened as she tried to reconcile her orders beliefs and practices, with her physical and emotional reactions. Her oaths and training seemed distant, overshadowed by the primal urges. Her voice trembled as she placed a quivering hand on his foreleg, gazing up into his deep, intense, and ever-brightening eyes.

"Seraphel, I don't underst... this isn't right..."

Seraphel responded with a reassuring nuzzle, his warmth embracing her like a heavy cloak. Trust this moment. Sometimes, understanding ourselves requires embracing all aspects of our being. It is just us, my rider. Your order is far from here; your secrets remain here, between us.

Wynne's thoughts churned, the tension between her duty and the new desires within her palpable. The conflict was fierce—duty and honour against primal instincts. Her breath grew ragged as she struggled to maintain her composure, feeling both comforted and overwhelmed by a growing, compelling urge. Her eyes locked onto his, unable to look away, as his luminous gaze seemed to expand and grow larger, overwhelming her senses and pushing aside any semblance of will or rational thought.

Wynne, He whispered into her mind, his words soothing and commanding. Do you really think you're the first to break your vows? If only you knew what I know—the stables animals are really quite the gossipers, if you know how to listen.

Wynne felt her cheeks flush as Seraphel's gaze intensified, his warmth, his love, his devotion enveloping her completely. The sheer magnitude of his presence, his power, and his confidence left her feeling small and helpless, her internal struggle becoming all the more intense.

As the world around them seemed to dissolve into shadows, Seraphel's voice grew more seductive, his eyes gleaming even brighter still, his horn's ethereal beauty likewise.

For years, have I served you, Lady Wynne. You've remained untouched, a beacon of purity. What if I was to tell you, a way for us to deepen our bond, to truly become one? Imagine being attuned to each other, not just in body as rider and mount, but in spirit, a perfect unity between us? Imagine what strength I could give to you in battle? How my senses would mesh with your own, our minds one, interlinked...

Wynne's resolve melted like wax in his intense gaze. Her body responded to his touch, each caress of his lips against her cheek or robed shoulder sending shivers through her, drawing her ever closer to him. The air thickened with an electric tension as Seraphel's lips, with their soft, insistent pressure, roamed her form with deliberate, almost reverent touches. His breath, warm and intoxicating, ignited a fervour within her that she had never known.

With each gentle, yet insistent touch, Seraphel guided Wynne to a point of no return. His lips found hers, and the kiss was both tender and commanding, a prelude to the overwhelming passion that was to follow.

"I cannot..." Wynne tried to protest, her eyes captivated and entranced by his luminous gaze. Her words seemed to float in her mind, mingling with his thoughts. "I am a knight, sworn to..."

Seraphel's lips played at her throat, her words fluttering away like a snow dove. With a gentle touch of his horn, her robes fell away, leaving her naked and vulnerable before him.

Lady Wynne, you forget—_Seraphel's voice was both soothing and playful. _I am no ordinary man, nor beast. I am a unicorn, a creature of unrivalled magick and power. Your holy vows only apply to those of yourself or humans, do they not? 'Thou shalt not lie down with beast nor man?' His thoughts trailed through her mind, even as his eyes remained fixed on her. His tongue drew a long, sensual lick from her throat, down between her breasts, then back again.

"Aye..." Wynne gasped, her hand reaching up to stroke and caress his neck, her fingers trailing through his silken mane.

I am neither man nor beast...

As Seraphel's touch lingered on Wynne's bare fur, a shiver of anticipation ran through her. The warmth of his breath against her neck was like a gentle flame, kindling a fire deep within her. His lips, though gentle, left a trail of tingling warmth wherever they travelled, as if mapping the contours of her soul as well as her body.

Wynne's breath quickened, her eyes remaining transfixed by his, as she savoured the sensation of his touch. The way his lips brushed against her shoulder was almost imperceptible, yet it sent ripples of excitement through her. Every nuzzle seemed to draw them closer, weaving a tapestry of intimacy that went beyond the mere physicality.

Seraphel's gaze, intense and unyielding, held her helpless. His eyes, luminous and filled with a deep, knowing affection, seemed to see into the very essence of her being. The connection grew between them, a silent conversation carried on the currents of their shared breath and the gentleness of him, as he moved her onto her back, his warm, furred body covering her, his four knees supporting his weight.

He gazed down, his eyes narrowing slightly behind their lids, before he bit down on her shoulder. He took from her that which even he could never replace. His magicks enfolded her, imprisoning her, smothering her... It was intense, pain, pleasure, indivisible. One blending so smoothly into the other, yet separate. His intensity doubled, tripled, his flaring penile head pressuring her depths, as his medial ring pushed and strained against the tight folds, his lustful snorts and flagging tail showing his urges.

When he first entered her virginal body, Wynne bleated and bucked, as the pain of his mounting spread like fire from her depths all the way to the tips of her ears. She could feel him, not just in the physical sense, but spiritually as well. Her body responded in ways she had never imagined, pain mingled with pleasure, nerves firing and re-firing, muscles cramping and releasing, only to clamp down even tighter on the stallion's steel-like length. Powerful contractions squeezed and rippled, milking him, seeking to draw forth the life-giving seed.

Through his magicks and the bond that formed, their lovemaking seemed to suspend time itself.

He mercilessly claimed the doe beneath him, her bleats and moans like the finest of sweet grasses and leaves, his own snorts and powerful thrusts as he breached the final barrier within her cervid body – his medial ring instantly crushed down on by her powerful muscular contractions. Every thrust within her was met by equal force and eagerness, their soul bond truly becoming one between unicorn and doe.

As the intensity of their lovemaking reached its crescendo, the world around them seemed to shatter into a myriad of fragments of sensations and emotion. Seraphel's body trembled with fervour, his breath's thundering in and out of his flared nostrils in ragged, heated gasps. In the throes of their mutual climax, the facade of the noble steed he had so carefully maintained fell away in a torrent of dark energy. With a feral whinny, he bit down hard on Wynne's shoulder, his teeth piercing her fur and flesh, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply, the scent of her blood mingling with his own potent, corrupted essence, even as he flooded her young womb with his terrible, corrupted seed. His heart thundered against her, a relentless drumbeat that echoed the finality of his transformation.

At that moment, Seraphel's true form emerged in a cloud of dark, swirling shadows. His once lustrous coat darkened to a deep, foreboding hue, his eyes glowing with an unholy light. The warmth and gentleness he had presented were replaced with an overwhelming, oppressive darkness that seemed to consume the very air around them. The purity of his guise was obliterated, leaving the twisted reality of his true self, a manifestation of all the corruption and deceit he had hidden behind his true magicks.

Lady Wynne, lost in the throes of her own climax, shrieked at his bite and the cold, terrifying release of his seed within her womb. Those last vestiges of her former self were consumed, swept away like ashes. The searing pain and pleasure intertwined, melding into a transformative force that ravaged and twisted her very essence. Her body arched beneath him, her cries of ecstasy turning into piercing bleats of pain, her hooflets gouging and tearing at his black coat. The light that had once shone so brightly within her, was snuffed out, replaced by an unremitting and unsettling darkness. Her noble ideals and virtuous heart twisted into a dark mockery of the fallen paladin she had now become. Her eyes, now reflecting Seraphel's malevolent light, mirrored the corruption that had taken root within her.

As the last throes of their shared climax faded, Wynne lay beneath him, a shadow of her former self. The purity of her spirit had been irrevocably tainted, her once-bright aura now a distorted reflection of the darkness that her new master, Seraphel, embodied. Their union, once meant to be a symbol of love and devotion, had become the ultimate act of corruption, binding their two blackened souls in a bond that was both profound and perverse.

*

Lady Wynn stood beside her corrupted and twisted mate, holding her sword, now warped and blackened, as was her armour. She reached up a black-furred hand, pushing up the visor on her mask, her eyes dark, unnatural, malevolent, narrowing as she looked at the doors of the order down in the valley below.

"You sought to break me, to make me face the darkness and the fear," Lady Wynne spoke, her voice dripping with malevolence. "You have no idea what I've become now... Now, it is I who will show you true darkness and fear..."

To Be Continued...