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In The Mist Of The Erie Isles

By Mantrid Brizon

Episode Twenty-Nine: Drowning Sorrows

Emerald green eyes scan the parchment, taking in the splendor of its pages. A beautiful fountain, built into the floor and the nearby wall, releases a cascading stream of refreshing water. It trickles from the spouts so gracefully. Draeolynn is certainly a competent artist, even shading the streams of water and articulating the splashes and waves as it strikes the shimmering pool beneath. His lips curl into a little smile, his mind flashing back to the fountain, the mere image of which has unlocked more of his memories.

“It’s so beautiful here.” Naoma’s voice echoes in his head.

“It is, but it’s not nearly as beautiful as you.”

“You’re such a sweet liar.” She giggles.

Closing his eyes and shaking his head, Irzain drives the painful memories away. Instead, he focuses his attention on Draeolynn’s sketchbook. Sitting alone in the diminutive cargo bay, Irzain scours her sketchbook for more clues. He hopes for an exterior image of Nirthen’s temple, his former home and workplace. His pinky finger keeps track of the page that held the image of the fountain. Page after page are filled with beautifully drawn flowers, castles, elegantly decorated city gates and ornate lighthouses; they’re all things that the gorgeous and youthful looking Falmun woman enjoys. He turns another page and pauses.

His smile returns as he finds himself staring at the exterior of Nirthen’s temple, drawn from a position atop the miniscule dock. It’s exactly as he remembered when he drank Sovik’s rancid memory potion. Turning his eyes away from the sketchbook, Irzain lifts his head and glances toward the three trunks sitting in the small cargo area. They belong to Draeolynn, who refused to leave without them. Steingar and Valan were forced to load the trunks, one of which being obscenely heavy, atop a small cart. They then pulled the cart like oxen through the jungle trails before loading them aboard the Arona-Dahl for her.

“Thank the Seraphs we brought you along.” He speaks quietly to himself.

With his curiosity satisfied, Irzain closes the book and rises from the crate he was seated upon. Leaving the cargo area, he spots Valan opening his cabin door. A hand rests on his lower back as he appears to wince from pain.

“Are you alright?”

“Hm?” Valan glances to him. “Oh, yeah. I just feel like resting early. That girl should’ve just taken the whole house and spared our backs.” He softly chuckles.

“Well, you seem to be in better spirits.”

“Things are looking up, for once.”

“I know.” Irzain grins, holding up the sketchbook.

“Once you’ve figured out who you are, you might be able to swim without the rest of us, and then this nightmare will finally be over.”

With a stern look, Valan pauses for only a moment before making his way inside of his cabin and closing the door behind him. As Irzain stares at Valan’s door, disheartened by his words, footsteps approach him. The heavy footfalls are distinctive; he knows without looking who’s coming.

“Hey, Steingar.”

“Oh, hello.”

“Are you alright?” Irzain asks, noticing the Helngar with a hand on his lower back.

“I just need to lie down. That sexy little elf must’ve packed the kitchen cauldron and the oven in that last trunk.” Steingar chuckles.

“Maybe that’s one of her hobbies? Anyway, have a good rest.”

“Thanks.”

Passing Steingar, who enters his room as if he were an elderly man, Irzain looks for Draeolynn and the others. He quickly finds them inside of the lounge. Seated at the dining booth, Kirsta is pushed into the corner, a row of cards in her hand. Seated beside her but at an angle, Mairlynn holds her own set. Draeolynn sits on a bench away from the dining booth, looking through the windows and watching the wake left by Arona’s steam powered propeller. Jarae sits on another bench, tucked near the corner by the galley and whittling the finishing touches to her coal carving. None have yet seen it in detail.

A delicious aroma fills his nostrils, and Irzain can hear the sizzling emanating from the galley. Stepping further into the room, the women casually greet him. Returning the gesture, he leans over and peers through the galley’s archway. Standing in the little kitchen and wearing a tall, white hat and matching apron, the already extremely tall, old Vizhek hums a little tune to himself as he handles a large skillet.

“Come for the fish?” Trellan asks without ever turning around.

“Not originally, but it’s very tempting.”

“Oh!” Trellan glances over his shoulder. “I was expecting you to be Steingar or maybe Valan.”

“It’s only me, unfortunately.” Irzain smirks.

He approaches Draeolynn, returning her sketchbook.

“Thank you. I really appreciate you letting me look through ths.” He smiles.

“Of course.” She smiles back.

“So, where are our movers, anyway?” Trellan asks, emerging from the galley and wiping his hands on a damp rag.

“They both went to their cabins to rest.”

“Is V-... Are they alright?” Jarae asks, looking up from her carving.

“You mean ‘is he alright’.” Kirsta corrects.

“Shut up and mind your business!” Jarae growls.

Kirsta raises her brow; the blonde, human female is visibly amused by the pink-haired Jaliscan’s outburst.

“Someone’s sensitive today.”

“I’m not sensitive! I just get tired of your snide remarks about me and Valan! You seem to think there’s more to our relationship.”

“Well, forgive me for being observant, but every time he comes up you look like you just stepped on a tack.” Kirsta smirks.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. We aren’t even friends...” Jarae murmurs.

“So, you’ll even sleep with acquaintances?! What about enemies?!” Kirsta chuckles.

“You dirty little-”

“They both looked a little sore. They just needed to rest.” Irzain quickly interjects, hoping to defuse the situation.

“Hm... Maybe I should go check on one of them.” Mairlynn grins.

“Because tending to your womanly needs will help them?” Kirsta snickers.

“Maybe their backs hurt because of all that manly cargo they’re carrying? I don’t mind taking it off of their hands; I’m doing them a service.” Mairlynn winks.

“I don’t think they’re up to the task.” Irzain remarks.

“If it makes the task easier, they can work as a team.”

Draeolynn coughs on her cup of water, spitting some up.

“Just when I thought you couldn’t be more perverted.” Kirsta laughs, slowly shaking her head.

“Never underestimate a woman with untended desires. The worst mistake a man can ever make is to leave a woman unsatisfied.” Trellan reemerges from the kitchen.

With a platter of cooked fish balanced on one arm and a stack of wooden plates balanced on the other, Trellan sets the platter atop the dining booth table. He passes out the plates, serving Mairlynn before everyone else.

“Spoken like a real man.” She coos as she takes the plate.

They crowd into the dining booth, while Draeolynn and Jarae sit on a bench just across from the booth, on the other side of the table. Trellan passes out the fish, loading their plates and dispensing utensils. He even goes so far as to pour their wine. Once again, he serves Mairlynn first.

“You know, if you were younger, you’d be just my type.” She says, taking a little sip of wine.

“Then it’s unfortunate for me, because you’re a wonderful woman.” Trellan replies.

“Y-you think so?!” Her ruby eyes light up.

“Of course.” He smiles.

“Don’t encourage her, or you’ll need to start locking your door at night, too.” Kirsta teases.

Mairlynn flushes and lowers her head.

“I’ll tell you something, Kirsta; I’ve been alive for a very long time, and in my hundred and sixty-eight years, I’ve learned that whether they’ll admit to it or not, every woman has all the desires of a man, and men have the desires of women.”

They pause at his words, glancing between him and Kirsta. The buxom human appears stunned by this revelation. Others are somewhat confused.

“What do you mean?” Jarae cocks her head.

“I don’t have the desires of a man...” Kirsta retorts, narrowing her eyes and taking a bite of fish.

“Yes, you do!” Trellan laughs, dismissing her assertions. “Just like little Mairlynn, you’d love to have a man lie you down in a bed or bend you over this table.”

Kirsta chokes on a bite of fish, startled by the typically soft-spoken Trellan’s sudden bluntness.

“Now, I’ll concede that maybe you want him to be loyal to you and love you first, but you still want it nonetheless. The only difference between you and Mairlynn is that Mairlynn is forthright about her urges, and you’re not. I respect her for that.”

Kirsta’s face flushes as he speaks, her sapphire eyes darting away. It’s all the confirmation that the others need. Mairlynn grins from cheek to cheek, feeding off of Trellan’s positive energy.

“Maybe some women are different?” Jarae interjects.

“Women are women, and men are men. Men want to be cared for and loved, just like women do, and women want excitement, spontaneity and good sex, just like men do. Anyone who doesn’t seek love and physical connection is either a ghost or has something wrong with them.”

It takes a moment for the mood to change, but eventually they eat a pleasant dinner, enjoying the food that the old Vizhek had prepared for them.

“I’m, uhm, I’m very grateful that you all actually agreed to bring me along.” Draeolynn suddenly speaks.

“Of course!” Irzain exclaims.

“It’s not a bother.” Trellan adds.

“Still, it means a lot to me.” The redheaded Falmun adds.

“Considering what your father was doing, using your condition to justify experimenting on you, I don’t blame you at all!” Jarae interjects.

“If I were you, I’d have killed him.” Kirsta casually remarks.

“Well, as soon as I’m able and we’re in a safe place, I’ll take my leave.” Draeolynn continues.

“So soon?” Jarae looks shocked.

“Are you sure that’s wise? From the sound of things, it might be better to stay for a while.” Trellan adds.

Draeolynn smiles and nods, politely asserting her will. Mairlynn watches her friend for a moment, her lips contorted into a strange, anxious expression.

“Y-you know... You don’t have to do that. You can stay with us.”

Mairlynn speaks in a soft voice. To Irzain, it appears as if she’s reluctant to make the offer.

“Thanks, but that’s alright. Hopefully, you won’t have me around long enough to get sick of me.” Draeolynn smiles faintly.

“Are you sure?!” Kirsta presses her.

“I don’t know what your plans are, but I’d like to make it to the mainland. I know I’ll be safe there, once I get established.”

“Fair enough. We’ll do our best to get you somewhere safe. You have my word.” Trellan smiles warmly at her.

“Thank you.”

“And just how do you plan on doing that? Establish yourself, I mean?” Jarae wonders.

Draeolynn’s cobalt blue eyes widen as she hesitates to answer. Her eyes shift, looking over her shoulder and toward the cargo area at the bow of the ship.

“Well... You know those three trunks I insisted we bring?”

“Yeah.”

“Two of them are my clothes, books, and other personal affects... But the third is my inheritance.” Draeolynn nervously smiles, lowering her head.

“What?!” Kirsta gasps.

“I figured as much.” Trellan casually remarks before taking a sip of wine.

“How much inheritance?!” The blonde human plants her hands atop the table, glaring at the redheaded Falmun.

“Hm... Let’s see... I think it’s... About two-hundred-thousand vasariks.”

Trellan chokes on his wine and drops his goblet. He coughs as both Irzain and Jarae slump back in their seats. Kirsta’s face turns blank, the blood draining from her flesh, while Mairlynn drops her head. Draeolynn looks between the crew, a look of worry on her face.

“By the Seraphs...” Mairlynn closes her ruby eyes and rests a hand on her forehead.

“That’s a fortune!” Irzain chokes out.

“And you don’t think he’s going to track you down to the mainland for that?!” Kirsta snarls.

“That was hardly a tenth of what daddy has in his vault!” Draeolynn retorts.

“He’ll hunt you to the corners of the world!” Kirsta snaps.

“Why would you take so much?!” A horrified Jarae asks.

“Do you know what you’ve done?!” Mairlynn looks to her friend.

“Hey, hey!” Trellan growls, raising his hands and silencing the crew. “Calm down and let her speak!”

“Thank you, Trellan... Daddy will hunt me to the corners of the world whether or not I took his vasariks, which, again, was only a fraction of his wealth. He probably won’t even notice it’s missing, but I need it. It’s the only edge I have, as I’m not willing to seduce a Lord for protection. With any luck at all, I’ll be on the mainland and have my own manor and guards before he even has a clue as to where I went. When he inevitably finds me, I’ll be able to protect myself, and whatever life I manage to build.”

Hearing her words, the stunned and angry crew begin to settle. Kirsta and Jarae ponder the situation, and soon even the irritable Kirsta appears to soften; her frustrated brow unfurls in a rare display of calm. However, there’s a stillness in the air. No one speaks on the matter any further, instead eating their dinner in absolute silence. With twilight on the horizon, chasing after the ship, the crew clear the table and head for bed. Making his way to his room, Irzain pauses as he catches Jarae staring at Valan’s cabin door, an ear perked in its direction.

Even the middle-aged human can hear Valan suffering through a nightmare in his room. Finally noticing her observer, Jarae glances at Irzain before continuing on and entering her cabin. Looking toward Valan’s cabin door, Irzain briefly wonders what the gunman and visionary inventor is dreaming about. It doesn’t sound all too pleasant... Tossing and turning in bed, Valan struggles in his nightmare. He pulls at the chain attached to his leather collar, sealed with a padlock. Clawed hands try to hold him down as he fights the worsening effects of the potion.

“Hurry! Give him more!” Indana demands.

“Yes, my Zak’Rana!” Cicera bows her head.

Straddling his pelvis, the nude Indana is larger and more sturdily built than her minion, Cicera. She holds down the weakened human while the equally nude Cicera retrieves another pink glass bottle. She collects it, one of many, from a pile on the earthen floor. The green and gold Lahnyt grabs his bearded chin, using the long strands to yank open his mouth like a puppet. He winces in pain and Cicera begins pouring. She dumps the fruity concoction down his throat, keeping a steady pace so as not to choke him or waste the valuable potion. It’s sweet flavor only makes it harder for him to resist.

Soon, he’s drinking the liquid as fast as Cicera pours it into his mouth. The potion takes immediate effect; his eyes soften and muscles fall limp as he feels his mind swirling. His pulse quickens and his temperature begins to rise. Blood rushes to his loins as he can suddenly detect the sweet, rose-like scent of the women’s pheromones. The two Lahnyt women are primed and ready to fulfil nature’s purpose. With the bottle emptied down his throat, Cicera tosses it aside before collecting another device.

With Valan as compliant as he’s ever been, she covers his face with the leather half-mask. She buckles it tightly, behind his head. As Indana’s warmth radiates over his groin, growing hotter with each passing second, he can’t possibly resist. This doesn’t stop him from trying, however. His manhood rapidly swells, growing longer, thicker and firmer. He can feel his resolve eroding, his will bending and conforming to theirs.

“Ooh! It’s working!” Indana chirps.

Looking down with glee as she straddles him, Indana begins to rock her hips, teasing him with her snow-white loins. He can feel her nether lips grinding against his manhood, through his trousers, and even smells her lubricating fluids. As she pushes her womanhood against him, rocking back and forth, the Lahnyt’s taut vagina makes very subtle noises, like the licking of lips. Turning his eyes down, he watches as she grasps one of her own, mountainous orbs, massaging her ample, snow-white breast and pinching her own nipple.

“I can’t wait anymore! Let’s begin!”

“Yes, my Zak’Rana!” Cicera chirps, grinning sinisterly.

The women make short work of his clothes, pulling off his boots and belt before casually throwing them aside. They don’t pay any attention to the loaded pistols in their custom-made, leather holsters. Eager to begin, both women tear at his clothes, shredding his purple silk shirt as they expose his slim, athletic frame. Cicera isn’t nearly as rough, though her desires are as evident as Indana’s. The ice blue and snow-white Lahnyt woman violently rips off his trousers. The clothes tear and her white claws cut deeply into his legs.

He feels the pain and the blood running free. He exclaims into the mask that Cicera has placed over his face. However, he barely hears a sound through the thick leather. No one will ever know what’s happening to him in the privacy of their hut. He can feel the air rushing over his throbbing manhood and heavy scrotum as Indana peels away the torn fabric. Unsurprisingly, she’s far more gentle with that particular region of his body. The women both pause, and Valan can see the shocked look on Indana’s face.

“By the Goddess, he’s big!” Cicera gasps.

Cicera’s orange eyes grow as wide as tea cups as she stares at his gently swaying erection; it moves in lock-step with his heartbeat, throbbing and nearly hypnotizing the women. She brings a clawed hand to her face, covering her gaping maw. However, as she kneels beside his shoulder, Valan looks up at her; her lips are curled around her snout in an obvious smile, which she only barely hides from her mistress.

“He felt large, but finally seeing it... Well, it’s something else entirely.” Indana remarks.

“I can’t imagine taking something like that inside of me.” The wide-eyed Cicera remarks. “Be careful, my Zak’Rana!”

“Oh, we are very lucky to have found this one! I’m so glad we waited for the perfect pet!”

“Aren’t you worried?”

“Worried about what?!”

Cicera reaches out, taking a fingertip and tapping the shaft of Valan’s exceptional manhood. Gently wiggling her finger, she causes his erection to bounce and sway.

“Fitting this inside of you.” She elaborates.

“Oh.” Indana giggles. “Not at all! In fact, I can hardly wait to feel him!”

She rubs a hand along the underside of his manhood, shuddering with delight. Cicera cocks her head, confused by Indana’s answer and behavior. Why is she so obsessed with his penis all of a sudden, and why doesn’t its exceptional size scare her? Indana slowly looks over his body and licks her lips. She looks like a hungry animal that’s about to be fed a prime cut of meat.

“What about his seed?”

“From the looks of these, he has plenty for the both of us.” Indana coos, reaching out and cupping his large, heavy testicles.

“That’s not what I meant.” Cicera corrects herself.

“I bet it tastes heavenly, too.” Indana murmurs.

“My Zak’Rana?”

“Hm?”

“Isn’t this all about the ritual?” Cicera asks.

“Of course! ... But there’s no reason we can’t enjoy the hell out of it, is there? After all, the Goddess didn’t make men of his ilk solely for breeding the next generation of followers; they live for our womanly pleasure as well.”

“... I wouldn’t know.”

Cicera flushes, her green cheeks taking on a light pink hue as she tilts her head down. As her gaze lands upon the bound, gagged and helpless Valan, she smiles rather warmly at him.

“Oh, that’s right. I keep forgetting that you haven’t had a man yet. Rest assured, nothing else in this world feels anywhere near as good as having some stiff manhood spreading your nether lips and reaming your loins... Except when he floods your body with his seed! You’ll understand that soon enough...” Indana winks.

Cicera’s cheeks darken, turning a more vivid shade of red as she flushes. Her nervousness causes her hands to faintly tremble. Indana grasps firmly to the base of his penis, her palm resting just above his testicles. By now, Valan can hardly focus. He suddenly moans into his leather mask, feeling a warm, moist sensation. Glancing down, his eyes would widen if they could; nearly everything but his manhood has fallen limp, even his eyelids. He watches as Indana stuffs a considerable portion of his firm organ into her mouth, holding him steady with her hand. She uses the length of her blocky snout to her advantage, filling it with his phallus.

“Mmm-mmff-nnnnmmm... Ahh!” Indana gasps as she takes him out of her mouth. “Wow! He even tastes good!”

“M-may I, my Zak’Rana?” Cicera sheepishly asks.

“You may, underling.” Indana grins sinisterly.

Leaning forward and reaching out, Cicera grabs Valan’s manhood, stroking him rather clumsily. Even in this state, he can tell that she truly is a virgin. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, the green and gold Lahnyt prepares herself. Opening her jaw wide, she suddenly and swiftly leans forward. He can feel the warmth as she stuffs his endowment into her mouth, filling up the space in her snout. She begins to bob her head, slurping on his manhood. Indana giggles.

“Wha-?!” Cicera asks with her mouth full.

“Let me show you a better way.”

Removing herself from his manhood, his stiff phallus flops back, smacking against his belly. The hard endowment sways as it swiftly stands at attention once more.

“Careful!” Indana exclaims, taking hold of his member. “This is a very precious tool!”

“I’m sorry, my Zak’Rana!” Cicera apologizes.

“That’s alright. Now...” Indana strokes his phallus with considerable skill. “Try it like this.”

Leaning forward, the blue and white bi-color Lahnyt licks his manhood, her pink tongue gliding along the underside of his organ before flicking over the tip. With her mouth opened wide, she slips him inside. Indana pleasures Valan with the talents of a seasoned tavern wench, her head bobbing up and down before pulling him from her mouth and licking along his shaft. She runs her lips along the side of his long shaft before once again stuffing his manhood into her mouth, all while her clawed hands stroke him. Indana cups his testicles, giving them a soft but noticeable squeeze.

Though he tries to fight against the situation, it’s futile. The stimulation of his manhood and the potion’s ingredients coursing through his veins make it all but impossible; this is going to happen. Reaching a hand down, Indana rubs her own loins. She moans into his organ as she teases herself. Taking her hand from betwixt her legs, her fingers are glossy, slick from her lubricating fluids. He can smell her arousal; at this point it’s likely he could, even without the effects of the potion.

“Ahh!” She gasps for breath. “That’s good!”

“I have so much to learn, my Zak’Rana.” Cicera bows her head.

“This is your lesson then. With a man like him, who has a penis so large, you can’t just let him dive into your pool; build up to it first. Take your time and allow yourself to adapt. Like this!”

Swinging a leg over him, Indana straddles him once more. Cicera shifts, making herself comfortable and sitting on the side of her legs and one cheek of her buttocks. Her tail sways gracefully as she watches Indana pressing the underside of Valan’s throbbing phallus into her nether lips. Cooing, she grinds her flesh against his, spreading her nether lips apart and oozing her vaginal fluids all over him. With her clawed hands atop his chest, she leans back and moans, clearly enjoying the sensation. She treats him like her personal property, a mere object for her womanly desires. She rocks her hips so far that the head of his manhood slips beneath her clitoris, poking at her womanly opening.

“N-now th-that I’m r-ready... Hhf, I’ll just take him... And...”

Indana presses her knees into the dirt and rises up. Her long, tapering tail instinctively lifts, even though he’s not behind her. Reaching back, she grabs the base of his shaft, curling her thumb and index finger around it. Pulling back, she jolts when his manhood bumps her clitoris. She looks down, between her large breasts, and gasps. To her shock, Valan’s endowment is long enough that when on her knees, she doesn’t have enough room to pull him into position; the head of his penis and an inch of shaft pokes out between her legs.

“That’s never happened before! I-I, uhm, have never had one so substantial...”

“My Zak’Rana?” Cicera cocks her head.

“Hm... Let’s try this...”

Leaning over, Indana swings a leg around and plants her plantigrade, human-like foot onto the ground. Doing the same to the other, she squats over Valan’s pelvis. With one hand on his chest and the other reaching between her legs, she holds the mid-section of his girthy shaft. Her raptor-like tail straightens out, helping her balance as she prepares herself. Cicera is surprised when her mistress takes a few breaths, clearly trying to calm her nerves. She squats down a little, pushing a fraction of the tip into her loins. Gasping, she jumps up, as if she were tossed into a hot bath.

“Okay...” Indana breathes methodically.

She squats down again. The tip of his penis spreads her nether lips, the head of his manhood disappearing into her loins. Valan arches his back, the chain of his collar clanking. Indana rises up, taking him out of her again. Her hand has yet to release his organ. Once more she squats down, reinserting him into her body. Taking him a little farther, she finally lets go of his shaft and presses her palms into the ground. Shifting her legs, she rests on her hands and knees above Valan, his manhood only just penetrating her loins.

She pushes herself back, driving him in a little deeper, groaning and moaning as she does so. Up and down, she works all of two inches of his considerable member into and out of her body. Suddenly, Idana shoves herself down, spearing herself on the entirety of Valan’s shaft. Plop! Her plump buttocks and muscular thighs smack against his scrotum and legs.

“HHNnnnnnnGAAHHH!!!”

She grunts and squeals as she stuffs his endowment into her hungry loins. With her ruby eyes closed tightly, she snarls and bares her teeth. It almost looks as if she’s in pain. Leaning forward, she rests atop her forearms. After taking a moment to adjust, she moves forward and then back; she slowly sways her entire body, driving as much as five inches, about half of his manhood, into and out of her quivering flesh.

“Ahh-yes! B-by the Goddess!!!”

“Ih-is it good, my Zak’Rana?” Cicera sheepishly asks.

“Ahh! Ahh! Mmm-it’s, ahh, heavenly, ahh, my underling!”

Pushing herself up, Indana sits atop Valan’s lap, his endowment now thoroughly hidden within her stretched loins. She rises up and then drops herself down, over and over again, gradually gaining speed. With her long, raptor-like tail whipping from side to side, Indana gleefully bounces atop his manhood, giving Cicera an excellent view as Valan’s penis reams her mistress’ taut vagina. She reaches out and grabs the chain of his collar, giving it a yank. Holding it like reins, she acts as if he were her horse, using it to control him as she violently rocks her hips back and forth while bouncing up and down.

“Rrr! Rrr-yeah! Nngf, that’s a, nngf, good pet! Ahh!”

Jolting in bed, Valan opens his eyes, awakening from the dream, a memory of his abuse. He pants for air as he sits up, turning his head and glancing toward the porthole. It’s still quite dark outside. Is it nearly dawn, or has darkness only recently fallen? The nightmares he endures makes it difficult to keep regular hours. Rising from his cot, Valan pours water from a covered pitcher into a wash-basin. As he pulls the damp rag over his form, his mind wanders. Would others consider his nightmares to be nightmarish? Admittedly, he often fantasized about multiple women at once, and were he not drugged and bound it would’ve been a fond memory.

Still, the feeling of powerlessness and the fact that he’s a male brings a certain shame. For a brief moment, Valan feels a chill run through his body. It’s reminiscent of when he was a small boy, fearful of angering his cruel father and enduring humiliation for his close relationship with his mother. Looking at the rag in his hands, Valan can see his adult form, but what he’s endured has left a scar that only he can see and feel; his very status as a strong, competent man has been called into question, even if it’s only by himself. Growling and baring his teeth, he squeezes the rag and throws it aside. The anger builds, as if often does, and he only knows one way to make it cease.

Putting on his clothes, the dark gray trousers and linen shirt with burgundy dye that Jarae had bought him, Valan slips on his boots and makes his way out of his cabin. Working on his new project in the workshop is the most effective means of distracting him from what’s happened, and it also helps to pass the time. Only Arona’s maintenance, which Trellan has been teaching him, is a close second. With his stomach growling, Valan decides to collect food from the galley on his way to the workshop. Entering the lounge, however, he’s surprised to find that it isn’t empty.

Seated at a bench and looking through the row of windows, Draeolynn watches the shimmering water, glistening in the moonlight. She turns her head, her attention drawn by the footfalls.

“Oh, hello.” She speaks softly.

“Hi... I didn’t think anyone else would be up.”

Draeolynn flashes a smile, but it’s obvious to him that it’s forced. Looking into her cobalt blue eyes, she appears nervous, even afraid. Growing concerned, he steps inside and approaches her, taking a seat on the bench within arm’s reach of the Falmun woman.

“What’re you doing up so late? ... Or is it early?”

“It’s early...” She murmurs. “I don’t know. I... I just couldn’t sleep well.”

“Are you used to sleeping on land?”

“Yes, but it’s more than that. I guess I’m just feeling a little anxious. I’ve never done something like this before.”

“None of us have, but we’re all enduring this voyage together.” He speaks in a warm tone.

Glancing back, Draeolynn’s eyes scan his face. Seeing his warmth, she responds in kind. This time her smile isn’t forced.

“I’m sorry about the others, and especially Irzain. I’m sure you didn’t intend to stay with us for more than a short ride, but he’s been after that island for a long time.”

“It’s alright.”

“Honestly, the rest of us are eager to be done with it, too. This has gone on long enough.” He insists.

“I understand.” She giggles.

“Oh... Good.”

“I really don’t mind. I need the time to gather my thoughts, anyway...” She says as she turns her attention back to the shimmering wake. “This is the first time I’ve been without my father, and even though I know he was a horrible man, who would've likely killed me one day, I’m unsure...”

“Of?”

“Of myself... Of what to do next. This was all so spontaneous; I saw my opportunity and took it. I know it needed to happen one day, sooner rather than later, but... I’m just so afraid.”

Hearing the shiver in her voice, Valan scoots closer. He slips an arm around her and gives her slender waist a tug. Draeolynn is quick to latch onto his kindness, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tightly. She rests her head on his shoulder, the tip of her thin, pointy nose brushing his neck. He rests his hand on her head, softly petting her.

“I know it’s scary at times, learning to be strong and walk on your own, but you aren’t doing this by yourself.”

“Thank you, Valan. You’re so kind.” She coos, nuzzling his neck.

As they embrace, his stomach abruptly growls. Draeolynn’s responds, grumbling softly. Sharing a little laugh, Valan and Draeolynn pull away and the human prepares some food in the galley. He loads a small platter and presents it to Draeolynn, before passing her a wooden mug and giving her the choice of wine or water. However, still desiring to work on his project, he collects a plate and drink and makes his way toward the hall.

“Where are you going?!” She asks, a hint of fear in her voice.

“I have a workshop in the bottom deck.” He replies, glancing over his shoulder at her.

“C-can I come with you?” She flushes, lowering her head while looking innocently up at him.

“Yeah. I’d like that.” He smiles.

Slithering out of her seat and taking her food and drink with her, the youthful and beautiful Falmun follows him down the stairs and into his workshop. There, they set their plates and mugs atop the workbench, eating and talking with each other while Valan tinkers with metal pieces that lay strewn atop the counter. Draeolynn is a curious woman, asking question after question about his past. Valan hides nothing, summarizing parts of his life and how he came to be on the Arona-Dahl. With each question, she dives a little deeper into who he is; with every answer, she finds herself feeling akin to the handsome human. With the pieces finally finished, Valan carefully constructs the strange device, fitting the bits together like a puzzle.

“You sound like you spend a lot of time building new contraptions.” She remarks, watching him work.

“They keep me busy.”

“And your father didn’t approve?”

“My father was a myopic, selfish, and cruel bastard... But he was right about one thing...”

“What’s that?” She cocks her head.

“I focused too much on my inventions. I used them as an escape when I could’ve found refuge in better things, and it cost me dearly... I lost Vella to him, because I didn’t act fast enough.”

“The girl you mentioned? Your first love?” Draeolynn clarifies.

“Yes... That sick bastard began using her for his pleasure, because I was so busy doing this that I never thought to marry her. I ran from my troubles in my work, until it eventually consumed me...” He explains, trying to force a side-cover plate onto his new invention.

“I’m sorry, Valan.” Draeolynn coos, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I suppose in a way, I’m lucky; my father used potions and spells, and he would often examine me... Thoroughly... Still, though, he never touched me inappropriately, and he never hurt me. I know he wanted to, but he didn’t. I was lucky... Is that why you have nightmares?”

Valan pauses, staring at the machine with blank, expressionless eyes. Draeolynn immediately realizes her mistake, pulling her hand away.

“I-I just wondered, b-because I could hear you when I left my room.”

Balling his fist, he slams it into the side-cover plate, forcing it into place. Startled, Draeolynn jumps back. With a deep sigh, Valan slides his new invention aside.

“Sorry... That’s not why I have nightmares...” He grumbles.

“Oh... D-did you want to-”

“No.” He cuts her off. “That’s one thing we don’t need to talk about.”

Glancing over his shoulder at her, he has a stern look in his eyes. Bringing a hand to her chest, Draeolynn bows her head, her cobalt orbs gazing so innocently up at him. Rising from his seat, he heads to a smaller table, a modified nightstand with a permanently affixed wash-basin.

“I’m sorry... We’re a lot alike, you know.” She speaks softly.

“You think so?” He asks, washing his hands in the basin.

“Yes. You're past is painful and humiliating, but I hardly have one, which is just as painful and humiliating.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

“I’ve never even-...”

Her sudden hesitation draws his attention. He turns toward her as he dries his hands, waiting for her to finish. Draeolynn, however, never finishes her sentence. She turns away, looking down at the floor. It’s a sad and heart wrenching sight, as her balled fist begins to tremble.

“He robbed me of so much... Just like your father robbed you.”

Hearing the sorrow in her voice, Valan approaches the beautiful Falmun woman. He gives her a hug from behind and rests his face by her pointy, elven ear. Caught of guard, she feels her breath turn solid in her throat. Her heart beats a little faster with the strange and yet strangely appealing contact.

“I’m sorry. Truly. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

Whispering into her ear, she feels her lips curling into a little grin. His presence is somehow such a comfort to her. She’d found appeal in him upon first seeing him; of the men in the crew, he’s the most attractive to her, but now she learns that he’s both masculine and gentle. It’s a potent combination. Her temperature increases. She spins around in his arms and looks up at him. Their eyes lock. She stares into his blue-green eyes, while he looks deeply into her cobalt spheres. They’re as dark as the depths of the sea, but as shiny as a polished gemstone. With a softened brow, she appears so innocent as he holds her.

Leaning in, Valan steals a kiss. Unbeknownst to him, it’s her first. Draeolynn shivers, but not from cold or fear. Her arms reach out, throwing themselves around his neck. Valan and Draeolynn pull at each other and he kisses her again. Kiss after passionate kiss, their temperatures rise. As their heads tilt and jaws open, Draeolynn is stunned to feel his tongue gradually exploring her mouth. Valan’s hands slide down her back, resting on her hips as he slowly pushes her away. He isn’t trying to separate them. Instead, he gently guides Draeolynn toward his workbench, carefully matching her steps.

Her taut buttocks bumps against the table, and she feels herself growing increasingly aroused. The elf’s womanhood moistens as his hands explore her body. He soon finds the lace that holds her dress together. His fingers pull the knot loose. She’s never had a man take control in such a manner; she’s never had a man at all! Fearing the pain of humiliation, she couldn’t bring herself to admit her own virginity, especially for an adult woman with such stunningly good looks. Now, she simply enjoys his masculine affections, allowing him to fondle her body and peel away her dress.

Valan is equally intrigued by the turn of events. To his surprise, he feels the shame of his abuse melting away. The more he takes control, the less powerless he feels. Grabbing Draeolynn by her armpits and carefully lifting her up, he plops her down atop his workbench. His hands run up her slender legs, hook her undergarments and slide them down in a fluid, back-and-forth motion. Draeolynn leans back, looking for his belt. He isn’t wearing one, instead having a simple cord tucked through a loop at his waistband. She yanks the cord away and pushes his trousers down, exposing him.

Draeolynn gasps at the sight of his growing erection, the first her eyes have ever seen. Before she can say anything, Valan grabs her hips and pulls, causing the naked elf to roll back atop the table. Supporting herself with her elbows, she turns her head down, watching as he teases her womanhood with his large organ. He leans in and steals another kiss, their tongues entwined. With his hands planted atop the workbench, she grips his forearms. She feels an unfamiliar but pleasant sensation. Opening her eyes and looking down, Valan pushes the tip against her nether lips, spreading them wide to fit him. With a single, hard push, he breaks her hymen and spears her virginal loins.

“AAGH! ... Nnnnnn-hff...” She gasps and groans.

Pulling back as she shivers, Valan can see the pained look on her face. Though he’s seen similar expressions from women unaccustomed to his size, like Indana, he recognizes this particular look. Suddenly reminded of his first time with Vella, Lucerna and Cicera, he glances down and continues. Slowly pushing his manhood deeper into her loins, he swiftly discovers the proof of her former virginity. A trickle of blood escapes her body, running down her perfect buttocks and around the shaft of his invading member.

“I-I didn’t want to tell you.” She flushes, her mouth agape and chest heaving through her labored breaths. “I’m sorry...”

“You’re sorry?!” He gasps.

“Being an adult virgin isn’t something you want to share, especially when you’re a thirty-eight-year-old Falmun woman.”

“But had I known, I could’ve done much better than my workbench table!”

“Shh...” She leans in and steals a kiss. “I want this. Please... Don’t stop.”

Leaning over her, Draeolynn leans back, her legs dangling over the edge of the workbench. He reaches down and grabs her thighs, supporting her as he continues to drive his manhood deep. She throws her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as he begins his work. The pain melts away with startling speed, replaced by an untold pleasure, the likes of which she’s never felt or even imagined before. Gasping and panting, the pair become one, kissing over and over as their hands explore each other’s bodies and Valan’s phallus explores Draeolynn’s loins.

“Ahh-ahh-yes!” She squeals, her legs in the air.

“Rrrr-damn, you’re so tight!” He growls, gripping her calves.

“Nngf-aahhh! Harder!”

Thrusting harder and faster, he grunts and growls, wincing from both the pleasure and his own exertion. Soon, however, he slows his pace before stopping altogether. She looks down, confused as he pulls himself from her loins. However, he grabs firmly to her waist, directing her to roll over atop the table. She obeys, smiling from cheek to cheek as he controls her. With her belly and breasts pressed into the table, her legs hang over the edge, her feet planted on the floor. With his manhood in his hand, he leans forward, examining her dripping wet vagina.

“Wha-what’re you doing?!” She asks, glancing back at him.

“I like seeing what he does to her.” He replies with a smug grin.

“Hehe. You dirty boy!”

Leaning in, he tastes her flesh, licking her clitoris and nether lips. It drives her wild. He can tell from her writhing and exclamations that she’s swiftly approaching her peak. Standing tall, he dives back in, giving her every last millimeter of his throbbing organ. The table creaks, swaying subtly back and forth with his motions as he works her body to his pleasure. She grips the furthest corner and squeals, drool pooling beneath her gaping maw as he pummels her flesh. Suddenly, he feels it.

Looking down with perverse pride, her womanhood clamps down on his member. Arching her back and screaming with delight, her entire body tremors as she orgasms. Squeezing him and growing as hot as a smith’s furnace, it’s all he can do to hold out. He succumbs, however, grunting and roaring as he releases his seed. It floods her body, only extending her pleasure as she throws her head back and squeals. With his legs losing strength, he leans over, resting his belly against her buttocks and his chest against her back.

“By... The Seraphs... That... Was amazing...” She pants.

With his strength returning, he stands tall. Looking down, a smile spreads across his lips. He gives her plump buttocks a playful smack. She giggles and looks back at him, swaying her hips from side to side, his manhood still fully sheathed within her loins. He rests his hands on her purple fur covered flesh, subtly squeezing her as he withdraws himself.

“Mmm-I love you.” Naoma coos.

“I love you, too.”

Opening his eyes, Irzain awakens in his bed, his manhood throbbing. Yet again, he’s dreamt of Naoma. Often, they’re sweet and heartwarming, while other times they’re fearful and tense. It’s not often that he endures a blatantly sexual dream. Glancing down at his erection, he wishes he could’ve dreamt of something else.

“These moments when I miss you just a little bit more...” He sighs, lying back on his cot.

Eventually, Irzain rises from his cot and heads for the wash-basin, cleaning himself thoroughly before putting on his clothes. With a rumble in his stomach, he slips on his boots and makes his way toward the lounge, eager to explore the galley’s stock. As he walks through the hallway, he glances through an opened door. Seated atop Kirsta’s cot, Mairlynn and Kirsta play a friendly game of cards. Seeing him as he passes by, Mairlynn smiles, waves her fingers and blows him a kiss. Irzain keeps walking, chuckling quietly to himself. Stepping through the archway, he enters the lounge, finding that it isn’t empty.

Jarae sits atop a bench, her body parallel with the furniture. With her arm resting on the windowsill she peers through the glass, watching the wake behind the ship. Arona-Dahl has been at full speed ever since they left Draeolynn’s miniscule island yesterday morning, heading for Nirthen, which isn’t all too far away.

“Hello, Jarae.” He politely greets her.

“Hi.” She murmurs.

“I saw Kirsta and Mairlynn, but-”

“Good for you...” She cuts him off.

“... Yeah, but I didn’t see Steingar or Trellan or... Where’s everyone else?”

She doesn’t answer him in words, merely shrugging her shoulders.

“... Are you alright?”

He carefully approaches, looking her over with concern. Again, Jarae doesn’t answer him in words. She turns her head, staring silently at him. Her expressionless face unnerves him.

“You can always talk to me.”

“Who says I want to talk?” She snaps back.

“No one. I’m just giving you an option.”

“Then you’re the only one...” She sighs.

“What do you mean?”

“Forget it.” She murmurs.

With her legs stretched out over the bench, he sits at the far end, just beyond her feet. She turns her shimmering, pink eyes toward him, a somber look on her face.

“Come on. I’m not asking for your life’s story; I just want to help. Tell me what’s wrong.” He gently pleads.

“What’s your deal, Irzain? Why do you go through all the effort? It’s as clear as glass that no one on this ship cares about me.”

“That’s not true!” He insists.

“Heh... You’re a terrible liar.”

“I mean it! I care, and I know Valan cares, too!”

Jarae’s long, tapering ears perk at the very mention of his name.

“H-he said that?!” She sheepishly asks.

“He doesn’t need to. Everyone can all tell. I’m surprised you can’t!”

Her eyes glance to the side as she brings a hand to her face. She softly strokes her index finger beneath her bottom lip, a little smile forming at the corners of her felinesque snout. After a brief moment of joy, however, Jarae closes her eyes and subtly shakes her head.

“No... If he did care, he’d try harder.”

“Maybe he wants to, and you just don’t make it easy for him? ... Let’s be honest here; you have a bit of a, uh... Attitude problem.”

With a stunned look on her face, Jarae stares at Irzain with wide eyes. Just from her expression one would assume he’d insulted her, calling her unattractive or the like. She blinks, her head turning toward the row of windows.

“Maybe... I know I can be difficult, and I don’t always mean to be!” She looks back at him. “I just... It’s...”

Slowly lowering her head, her snout points toward her outstretched legs. Her brow softens, and he can see the melancholy painted all over her face. Bang. Jarae jolts and Irzain jumps out of his seat. Bang. He looks back at Jarae, who appears as concerned as he is. Bang. Racing out of the lounge and into the hall, he sees Kirsta and Mairlynn emerging from the cabin he’d earlier found them in.

“Did you hear that?” Kirsta asks.

“Yeah.” Irzain nods.

“It sounded like gunfire.” Mairlynn adds.

“That’s what worries me.” Kirsta murmurs.

Bang. Hearing the sound even louder, they race up the stairs and through the watertight hatch. Irzain looks to the pilothouse, fearful of an attack. Bang! Trellan stands beside the helm, looking through one of the windows. Steingar stands in a doorway, watching with a hand covering his brow. Following his line of sight, Irzain and the others spot Draeolynn standing near the starboard bow. Leaning against the wooden railing and covering her tall, elven ears with her dainty hands, she watches as Valan stands at the very front of the ship. Bang! The crew breathes a sigh of relief. He holds a strange firearm, the likes of which they’ve never seen before, shooting it into the air, at an angle. Bang!

“Haha, yes! It works!” He gleefully exclaims.

“Wow, that was loud.” Draeolynn remarks, pulling her hands away from her ears.

“Sorry about that.”

“What the hell are you doing?!” Kirsta growls.

“Oh, hello!” He chirps, turning back, toward the others.

“I asked you a question, damnit!” She snarls.

“It works! I was testing a revolutionary new weapon! The first of its kind, well, as far as I know.”

“I was about to win at cards before you started up with your nonsense!” The blond-haired, buxom warrior storms up to him.

“Lucky me, I guess.” Mairlynn smirks.

“What is that?!” Irzain asks.

“Some new weapon he made; a multi-shot pistol.” Steingar answers, walking down the steps from the pilothouse.

The crew gathers around the long-haired gunman in a semicircle, just behind the perturbed Kirsta. Valan takes hold of a metal bar filled with smoking chambers. Relatively thin, the bar is somewhat long and very wide. He pulls the bar from a cutout portion of his new firearm, waving the smoking metal and wafting the smell of gun smoke throughout the deck.

“Mmm...” Steingar closes his eyes, a sinister smile spreading across his angular snout. “That smell brings back some fond memories.”

“What is that thing?!” Jarae asks.

“Do you like it? I just finished putting it together today. It’s an entirely new concept for firearms; I call it a ‘repeater’! I got the idea when watching the ratcheting mechanism on the helm!” Valan chipperly exclaims.

“You’re welcome, then.” Trellan smirks, approaching the group.

“A simple pull of the trigger ratchets the ammunition bar, sliding and locking it into place, and also actuates the hammer for the ignition cap. It’s genius, if you don’t mind me stroking me own ego.”

“I can always stroke it for you.” Mairlynn coos, lustfully looking him over.

“And you just decided to shoot the thing?!” Kirsta growls.

“Well, yeah! I needed to see if it worked or not!”

“Without warning anyone?!”

“Oh...” Valan’s expression changes. “That never occurred to me. Sorry.”

“Told you.” Draeolynn giggles.

“Did you?!”

“I don’t think you heard me over your excitement.” Draeolynn replies.

“Next time, warn us before you start popping off rounds like that... If you’re so smart, you should think! We thought we were under attack! ... Asshole.”

Spinning around, Kirsta makes her way through the small crowd behind her. Grumbling angrily to herself, she insults Valan throughout. Steingar and Irzain raise their brows as she pushes past them. She’s spoken of and treated him differently ever since he struck her. Though often quick to anger, the others don’t usually pull such wrath from Kirsta; Valan’s mere presence seems to induce ire in the woman. Looking back at the others, little Mairlynn shrugs her shoulders before following after Kirsta, who by now is her closest friend.

“She’ll be fine.” Valan dismissively waves a hand.

“That’s an impressive weapon you have there.” Steingar remarks.

“Yeah! With a second ammunition bar, I could fire and reload it in seconds. I’m not quite done milling out the second bar, but I do have one. Maybe I’ll make more than two!” Valan exclaims.

“That’s tremendous firepower!” Steingar gasps, staring in awe at the bar. “Imagine what the Crown could do with a hundred of those!”

“Imagine what we could do with a dozen.” Valan smirks.

“You’re just full of surprises.” Trellan chuckles.

“I guess you aren’t useless after all.” Jarae remarks.

“You’d be amazed at what you can do when you properly harness your energy. Imagine what you could create if you yelled less!” He snaps back.

Glancing back at Jarae, Irzain can see the shock on her face. It rapidly melts into a poorly hidden sorrow.

“I didn’t know you could be as smart as you are sexy.” Draeolynn coos, gracefully gliding closer to him.

Stepping closer to her, Valan confidently slips an arm around her slender waist. Smiling warmly at her, his fingers gently tickle her sides and Draeolynn feels herself flush. Leaning in and tenderly kissing her cheek, Draeolynn pushes herself into his side. Giving her a little squeeze, Valan returns her affections, resting his head against hers and nuzzling her. From the corner of his eye, Irzain can see Jarae reacting to the sight. Stepping back, she looks aghast, taking a moment to collect herself. Just as he turns his head toward her, her expression changes, becoming blank and empty.

The Jaliscan whirls around and walks away, never once looking back at the group. Trellan and Steingar express interest in Valan’s new weapon, which he’s more than happy to show off for them. The men remain on the main deck, test firing the weapon several more times before eventually making their way into the lounge and cooking a large dinner. Irzain notes Valan’s positive attitude, which is in stark contrast to how reclusive and agitated he’d been lately. He also notices the growing bond between Valan and Draeolynn, who now seem nearly inseparable.

They eat a pleasant but relatively quiet dinner as a crew. Kirsta’s anger has subsided, though she hardly speaks a word to Valan. Mairlynn is unusually silent, regularly glancing at Draeolynn, who sits beside Valan. Her demeanor almost matches Jarae’s. After dinner, the crew resign themselves to their previous activities, with most of the women retreating to their cabins. By late-afternoon, however, Trellan sends Steingar to collect everyone. Irzain’s temple island, Nirthen, is already visible on the horizon, and at her current speed, the Arona-Dahl quickly closes in.

Gathered inside of the pilothouse, they watch through the windows as Trellan mans the helm, circling his one-of-a-kind ship around the small, tropical island. Irzain marvels at the temple, his wide, emerald eyes scanning the landscape and the darkened, stone-built structure.

“It’s just like I remember!” He exclaims.

“Me too.” Draeolynn adds.

“It looks deserted.” Jarae remarks.

“That doesn’t mean anything.” Steingar retorts.

“Yes. It could be a trap.” Kirsta agrees.

“It’ll be hard to see a trap in the dark.” Valan interjects.

The crew glance between each other as they crowd the pilothouse. All of them, however, are all too aware that their fate lies with Irzain. This entire voyage is his doing, after all. They turn to him, waiting in apprehensive silence.

“This is your circus, Irzain. What’s the plan? Wait until morning, or go ashore now?” Trellan glances at the scribe.

“We need to search it right away!”

“Why did I even ask...” The old Vizhek sighs.