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Desires of Demons

Part 4: Fire, Turmoil, and Blood

What little childhood I had I remember fondly. There was a care free air to life then. Even though pain and suffering surrounded me for much of my youth; I never truly understood loss until I became an adult.

-1-

Embers

His sword moved slowly, ever so slowly. Each movement deliberate, attacking an invisible enemy as if in molasses. But each move was an absent minded expression, his thoughts far--far away, reaching for his own weakness. Too few chances did he get to practice in full, with so much to hide from so many people.

Deep in the desert, far away from the spires and the noise of the city; Delilah danced. It was to be his last dance before adulthood. His last moment of true freedom before honor and lineage closed their iron jaws about his throat.

A deep grating rumble shook the bones and caused the sand to dance with him. Sweat broke out upon his burnt gold skin and his brow tensed with strain. Not a word was uttered, not a breath passed his lips. His hooked blade arced up and the ground erupted below his feet. A slab of stone thirty feet across climbed skyward, taking him with.

With a clang his sword hilt struck the ground pommel first, and he fell to a knee, gasping for breath. Earth moving took a lot of effort, far more than creating fire or even lightning. The great weight of it, so much momentum holding it in place, it took all of his strength to get it moving and keep it moving. Twenty feet below, the sand poured in through the gap made by the slab, a deep crater surrounding the base.

Again he stood and focused himself, dancing once more, as slow and careful as ever. This time he breathed, calming his heart and easing the lines from his face. The strain left him as he reached out with his silent magic, feeling the bedrock far below his feet. It felt as if he were trying to grab a mountain, so heavy and immovable, but still he tried.

The desert shook, a quake deep below the sand. The shock wave rippling across the dunes disturbed a passing Djheni far to the east. Another shock, harder this time, and the sand came flowing upward like a bubbling spring. Delilah's blade came slashing down and a deep thundering crack shook his bones. Then again, and slowly, agonizingly slow, a mountain was raised under his feet.

He launched himself in to the air as the slab started to tumble away. Knee deep in flowing sand, it threatened to drown him but at last his feet found purchase upon the stone he raised. A fossilized coral reef rose from the desert floor, frozen in time, not having seen the sun in thousands of years. The land screamed thundering agony as he tore her apart, exposing her secrets once again. Then with a gasp he lost his grip and fell to the broken coral and pale sand, sword clattering against stone.

The reef fell again, a few feet, no more. The rumbling silenced, the only sounds just the slow hiss of sand settling and the occasional crack and crumble of larger pieces surrendering to gravity.

Delilah rose again, trembling. He took the hilt of his blade in hand and marched to the edge of the shelf. Below him the desert had sank in to the gap, but still he stood a great distance higher. There he rested, gazing out over the desert and basked in the ruddy sun, letting the hot wind dry him of his exertion.

When again he took up his spells, he chose easier ones and practiced his finesse. He fired boulders in to the air and carved them with blasts of wind, cracked them with lightning and scorched them with fire. He moved now with grace and speed, blade whirling as his body danced. Nothing here was new to him, these were spells he had practiced through chant; then once again through dance.

When the sun began to set he grew weary, his head aching and buzzing, his body ready to drop. It was then, as the after flash from his last spell began to fade from his vision he felt some one else. He whirled around, sword level to the presence. At first he could see nothing, but he heard the scrambling of feet and the tearing of cloth.

There was a flash behind tumbled rock, a silhouette cast across the sand and coral. Then a wrenching began, the sky twisted to the ground and the desert rose up to meet itself. At the center of this maelstrom an eye formed, winking in and out for a moment. When it's gaze at last opened upon the desert, he recognized it. He knew this magic, he knew this spell; though the words of it had been lost and forgotten until this moment. Once long ago, he too had worked a spell of this nature.

The portal trembled as the mage who opened it chanted. Words barely heard, voice a whisper above the squall of torn space. Delilah countered, attempting to wrest the spell apart. Now it was a battle of will to take control of the portal and the portal reacted. It's rippling surface shuddered, twisting in and itself, swallowing great gulps of air and sand. Before his eyes a chunk of the desert floor was swallowed and cast away, leaving behind a glowing sputtering glass. But the mage was more experienced and the portal opened fully.

Delilah rushed forward but was too late, the Djheni mage threw himself through the eye and it began to unravel behind him. Delilah took up the chant again and put his silent will behind it. Like great hands pulling the gate open, it trembled and distorted, but held. The eye spun, endpoint of the gate shifting as the mage tried to close it from the other side. Feeling his failure immanent, Delilah leaped, through the closing gap in space.

For a long harrowing moment he wasn't sure if he had made it and he reached out for home. Reality had spun and wrenched away from him. Yet when he opened his eyes a dim very real light met him. He lay upon his back sprawled on a stone floor, both legs draped over a metal crate. The end point had moved, like a stone skipping across a pond, and dropped him here.

Delilah shuddered and struggled to stand but fell again with a gasp. He was lucky the portal had deposited him at all, let alone whole and not half embedded in the floor or a wall. Exhaustion at last took its tole. There he laid for a long, long time as he drifted in and out of awareness.

-

When at last morning came Delilah woke to a single shaft of sunlight reaching from a crack in the wall to his eyes. He could hear the daily business of a city on the other side. The room itself, from what he could tell was a warehouse, well swept and dry, but of poor construction. He rose and gave a cursory inspection as he stretched the knots out of his body. Sleeping on a floor, wedged between boxes was not conducive to good health. Of course the door was locked when he tried it, but a small chanted spell cracked the bolt and let him out.

He found himself on a small bazaar district street, behind a stand, business going on about. It was not a street he recognized, but that meant little. An annoyed looking Djheni rapidly made his way toward Delilah, drawing his sword. Delilah held up a hand and reached in to a pouch in the back of his sash and withdrew a few coins and held them up, "Forgive me." He said loudly, with a smile, "A spell went awry last night and I ended up in your wares. No damage was done however but for the lock, please allow me to pay you for a new one and for your hospitality."

The shopkeeper hesitated but a moment, then took the coins which were far more generous than required, "Your name?" He asked, lifting up on his toes to peer at the door still hanging ajar.

Delilah paused and glanced around the area, then asked quietly, hesitant to volunteer, "What city is this? I cannot see the skyline from here."

The shopkeeper eyed Delilah as if an insect, "Emorre." He said quickly then frowned, "You do not know where you are?"

"Oh! Good, I'd feared I may have ended up half way across the world." Delilah replied, visibly relaxing, "As I said, a spell went awry. I am Delilah Re'o Nora, ward to Knaira Re'o Emorre."

There was an audible click as the shopkeeper's eye-ridges pulled together in surprise, "Then you are but a child still, right?"

"For another ten day I suppose I am, this is my maturation year." Delilah answered, then shifted forward as he recalled how he ended up in the warehouse to begin with, "My good shopkeeper, I don't suppose there were any strange occurrences in the city last night?" At the shopkeeper's shrug, he added, "A pity... Oh well, I must return home."

However before he sought out anyone else, he made his way to the oasis outside the city. He had been gone for weeks and a part of him craved familiarity of home. A single tree stood amongst the strange alien forest, a single familiar tree that glowed with shimmering green light if he stared long enough. It was twice as tall as the nearest non-terrestrial kin. It's creamy white bark cracked and peeled back to expose tan and pink underbark.

Dellilah laid his cheek to the trunk and sighed a deep satisfied sigh, "I missed you too." He whispered to it, feeling a connection that flooded him with well being. This tree was a part of him, the only familiar thing he carried with him from home. It was also the only thing that possessed that strange aura of magic. At last Delilah withdrew, bidding his other half good bye and returned to the city.

-

That night he sat reading by firelight, working through mysteries. Eventually when Omolaud came home from a late delivery, he asked her, "Matron, tell me about the gate spell. My mother and I opened a gate years ago to bring Knaira to us. It was hard, it took a week of preparation if I remember right."

She looked weary as she sat across from him, but there was an excited light in her eyes that only came when she discussed magic, "The Ahn'daletu is old magic, there is no one alive today who knows exactly how it operates. Eons past the ancients wrought a spell allowing them to gate across the heavens. That spell is still active today, allowing one to open a gate if you know how."

"Last night I watched some one open a gate within the time it took me to run two hundred paces." Delilah prompted.

Omolaud frowned and leaned back against the wall, letting her horns touch, "Not many can open a gate, let alone so quickly. However it is possible to imbue an object with the spell, so all that is needed is to invoke the spell. This is likely what you saw."

Delilah remembered his little wand he had carved all those years ago, it had burned to ash by the energies, "Knaira called it a keystone." he recalled, the demon had been annoyed at using such a weak material. He remembered how his own body had been tuned to it, nearly killing him.

"Djheni cannot reach earth now, can they. Why?" He asked.

"Thousands of years ago, there was a war as you know. At first we came by the thousands, gate after gate, all over the planet. And at first we won. We took meru from the human stock, and threw back the weaklings, the frail, those who weren't fit to breed. This was before we knew of modern magic, before we knew what happened when Djheni and human blood mingled. Every single one of those weaklings we threw back were in truth the most powerful, the strongest magi." She sat back, as if remembering, and he realized she may very well have been old enough to remember.

"There was magic before humans." He said, prompting her.

"Oh certainly, but of what kind I cannot tell you. That was so long ago, even before I was born. Once the humans learned to fight--with their religious rituals, the war turned. For what ever reason, the Djheni of that age abandoned the old magic and took up the chantry. We realized our mistake and began raising those mostly human children as Djheni, but they were not. One by one they turned on the Djheni and joined the war for the humans. It was devastating, trained as they were in the chant. This was in fact when we turned to the Achera--our siblings, for strength." The last she said with a small smile and distant eyes.

After a long pause, Delilah laid a claw to her thigh, "And why can't the Djheni reach earth?"

"Right." She started, her gaze snapping back and focusing upon Delilah, "It is not so much that we cannot reach earth. It is that we cannot reach anywhere. The Ahn'daletu on our world is damaged, it acts as a recipient, so anyone can come to our world... But without another being to open the way for us, we cannot reach out. The humans did something to the Djheni Ahn'daletu..." She trailed off with a shrug, then added, "And it has been that way ever since. The Djheni who survived without reinforcements on earth either returned or died out."

His book forgotten as Omolaud spoke, had fallen aside his lap. He closed it and set it aside before asking, "How many people know how to open gates?"

She shrugged and leaned back, "The death chanters for certain, for they hold the gates open during raids. A few nobles who studied the ancient arts. Perhaps other lesser magi." She stood, stretched her weary body, then asked quietly, "May I sleep?"

He waved her off to bed then asked, "Where is Deurak?".

She sighed and shrugged, "He has been spending more time in town than usual. I suspect he is upset about your coming maturation." Then she continued in to her room, leaving Delilah alone.

Still full of energy and with a deep hunger, he set out. His destination wasn't far, the entrance to the harem. The guard, greeted him warmly and Delilah smiled in return, passing through in to the hushed, fabric draped hallway. It was late, there wasn't a sound to be heard or a soul in sight. When he arrived, the door opened with a groan, then shut again tightly behind him. His eyes fell upon her sleeping form, only the heated outline of her body was visible, blurred through the blankets.

He laid his fingers to her cheek, feeling the smooth soft skin, starting to go fleshy again now that she was once more out of rotation. She stirred, then opened her eyes, the brighter golden glow of them radiating upward, "Lila?" she asked, half in dream.

"Yes my love." He replied, then whispered a chant to light the lamp at the bed side. As the glow spread, he pushed the blankets back, exposing her naked pale form. She was smiling, he returned it, then laid himself against her, heavy hard body in contrast to her soft tiny form. His lips found hers in a sweet kiss, tongue seeking the taste of her mouth.

When at last he pulled away, she was breathless. He could hear the thud of her heart, rapid and hard. Her head lifted to gaze at his face and she whispered, "You were gone so long... I feared..." She went silent as his finger touched her warm lips.

"I would never abandon you Rachel." He vowed, then lowered his finger from her lips, down her chin and throat, then cupped her left breast, swollen with milk. His palm dampened as he squeezed, and a whimper escaped between her closed lips, "I'll be an adult in a tenday." Or meat, he thought, but kept that to himself.

"And you will ask him for me?" She prompted, her eyes wide and hopeful.

"I will." He promised, then pressed his lips to her firm swollen breast, kissing her leaking nipple. Her milk was sweet upon his tongue, bringing forth memories of childhood. Again she whimpered and his mouth lowered, to kiss at her ribs, one by one until there were no more. He would have her, Knaira would never refuse a boon, and she was just a single meru in a large harem. It was true many of the humans had died over the past decade, some in childbirth, a few had killed themselves, but he wouldn't refuse.

Her soft hands groped over his back until they tangled in his hair. She pressed him down and he obliged. He kissed her navel, then lower, stomach loose, wrinkled, and paunchy from constant pregnancy but he felt the muscles clench and squirm under his touch. He could smell her, the sweet musk that was all her, growing stronger every moment. At last her thighs parted, exposing the warm soft cleft between. The patch of fur that hid it, dark and silky.

Delilah buried his face in to her, inhaling, tasting, touching, overwhelming himself with the heaven that he had found within her. His nostrils flared, exhaling a rumbling moan. Below him his penis had freed itself and drooled on to Rachel's bed. His tongue pulled free from her depths and he sucked her flavor from it, "I missed you." he said at last, breaking the long silence.

Her eyes were upon him, speaking volumes, they compelled him, begged him, cherished him. They looked in to his heart and told him to lay his burden down. They told him to surrender to heaven, if only for a little while. She said nothing, just lifted her body to him, offering it up. That too did he oblige. As his body laid upon her, she raised to meet him. His penis settled in to that moment of heaven, her heated wetness engulfing him.

Like an Achera he did not thrust, only laid there, gazing in to her beautiful eyes. She was the first to move, hips lowering, drawing his length from her belly. Thick hard ribs bent back, then flicked free, spraying his belly with her wetness. They pulled and flicked as she withdrew, vibrating within her depths. That single motion caused her body to tremble and tore a moan from her throat.

At last he gave in, driving himself in to her core as deep as he would go. She was deep, but still only half of him fit inside. There he rested again, hips pinning her to the bed. He throbbed once, swelling further and making his ridges stand tall, stretching her open. As she squirmed his mouth found a breast and started to tease her higher, tongue and lips, soft nips of his teeth, gentle sucks to pull in a mouthful of her milk.

As he again throbbed she begged, loudly, "Please! Lila, it has been over a month..." He smiled against her breast, hips still holding her pinned.

When he at last raised his face, her cream dribbling down his chin, he whispered to her, "And longer for me my beautiful slut, can you not go a month without a Djheni between your thighs?"

Her face turned red and she looked away, "Shhh..." she hissed through clenched teeth, then gasped out, "You know I can't." She said sounding almost hurt and almost he would believe it--if it weren't for how she clenched upon him as he said it or how hard hard and pert her nipples stood.

"Just any beast would do, isn't that so? Any man, Djheni, or animal?" He said and her blush spread to her ears as a soft whine started in the back of her throat.

"Liilllaaa..." She cried out loudly, threatening to wake some one.

Delilah's claw reached up, framing her jaw with thumb and forefinger. He gripped her throat and squeezed, hard enough to silence her, so only a tight wheeze escaped between her clenched teeth, "You're mine, all of you." He told her, pressing a kiss to her other breast, then between, "Your heart." He said, then jerked his hips, slamming his crown in to her deepest point, bruising her, "Your mind." Again he thrust as she gaped for breath, "Your body." This time as he thrust, she came, her depths turned to liquid and quaked around him.

Her eyes were wide, her mouth gaping, her throat clenching and twisting under his fingers. But her body, oh her beautiful body raised in the most graceful arch. Her breasts to his chest, belly tightened and curved, her spine a bow drawn in orgasm. Her wetness spilled forth, soaking the bed under her rear, the smell of it filling the room.

Slowly, ever so slowly, her muscles started going limp, from the tips of her toes and fingers, up her arms and legs. He released her throat and she gasped, sobbed, howled in extacy and gasped again, "Yours, yours yours yous yours.." She mumbled over and over again. Then he began to claim her in earnest. Her voice grew higher as muscles clenched; she came again.

His body moved, graceful and quick, each thrust deliberate. One of his claws trailed along her body, touching, exploring, remembering every curve, every dimple, every mark that marred her flesh. The other tangled in her hair and held him up over her. For a while he watched, mouth parted in a slow pant, then he kissed her as he bottomed out, holding himself there. She had given birth while he was away and had not tightened up again fully, but her muscles drew on him like hands milking a cow's teat.

Once again his mouth sought out her leaking breasts. He found a puddle of milk pooling at her sternum and lapped it clean, then latched upon a nipple to drink her dry. Her body contorted with pleasure as he drained her swollen, sore breast. Her hips lifted to meet him, and her legs wrapped about, toes curling against his rear.

She looked toward the ceiling, eyes glazed, her mind lost in a haze. Too much Fire of the Achera, he thought, and swore to himself the drug would never again cross her lips. Then as she came once again, her powerful sex trembling around his member, he forgot all about it and surrendered to her. His head laid down, heavy upon her breast, his body tensed, thrusts growing erratic and jerky. Then with a great moaning sigh, he released himself in to her.

She crooned bestially as he buried himself in her one last time. A torrent of his seed poured forth, filling, then pooling below. His body jerked involuntarily, eyes shut, all attention centered upon his own deep pleasure. Then slowly he returned, finding her soft hands brushing strands of hair out of his face. Her vision was still glazed, but something was there, reaching for him.

He started to withdraw, but she clung tighter, not wanting him to leave her. The look of fear in her eyes halted him and he fell in to her once more, to stay. She caressed him, stroking her fingers through his hair, tracing the lines of his short horns and the seam of his mouth. He kissed her fingers as they passed, then closed his eyes, content.

In silence they laid for an hour, perhaps two, he faded in an out, dozing occasionally. Not once did she release him though, and it both melted his heart and tore at him in the same thought. Even as his penis went flaccid, her belly clenched at it to keep it from retreating.

When at last she slept, he withdrew and folded himself around her protectively; but he knew he wouldn't be there in the morning, couldn't be there. His heart longed to stay, pressed skin to skin and wake to her sweet face, but she did not yet belong to him and he was nearly an adult. At last he rose from the bed and pressed a kiss to her sweet sleeping face, then slipped from the room.

Home again and well past mid night, he found Oren sitting up in the dark, waiting for him, "Is she well?" she asked at a whisper.

"I lose a little more of her each time I see her." He said sadly, "But she still knows me, even in her deepest moments, her heart knows me." Tears glistened in his eyes, reflecting light from the courtyard.

"I'm sorry Delilah." Oren replied, knowing of no way to help, "May I clean you?" she added, changing the subject. Delilah nodded in response and dropped in to the fur wrapped batting of his bed. Oren had become Djheni the year before, then surrendered himself to Delilah. Though he was still a child in Djheni culture they honored Oren's wish. She crawled forward and pressed herself close to him, her nose twitching a little as she inhaled the musk of sex, then leaned up. Her lips found his, and she kissed, sweetly, then drew across, tasting him and scolded, "The milk should go to the babe, not you."

A frown tugged at his muzzle, and he replied sadly, "They no longer let her nurse; her child last year -- she wouldn't let him go." He had been the one who calmed her and eventually took the babe from her arms. It had wrenched his heart to do it, but if he had not, she would have been punished, "Her breasts swell with milk, the matrons take it in the morning, but by then her breasts are sore and tender."

Oren's gentle kisses soothed his mood, and he took her full on the lips. She surrendered to it, opening her mouth timid yet willfully and suckled at his tongue when offered. She was not Rachel, but still he cared for the sweet and gentle meru. Slowly at her insistence he laid back, beginning to realize how weary he was. When their lips parted, she cooed to him, "Sleep my handsome Djheni, let your dreams bring you peace." and with that she began to bathe him with her tongue. He fell asleep with the last memory of her soft muzzle enfolding his semi-erect member and her tongue cleaning behind each ridge.

-

In ages past, the Achera were small carnivores that roamed the great planes of Kuir'geirrus. The ancient Djheni during the great war, crafted them in to the majestic beasts they are today. The story is told, that the blood was be a weapon, the lust was to purify the Djheni people, and the release was to enslave. Later in the war an antidote was found for the Achera blood. To this day however the Djheni people still utilize the beasts. They divide themselves between Meru and Djheni through the lust of the Achera, and the 'Fire of the Achera' is still made from distilled urine.

As for the Achera themselves, they have become cloaked myth and legend, every aspect of Djheni society revolving around the violent and deadly beasts. Though the ruling cast still remembers the truth behind them, the serfs hold them up in deification.

-2-

Blood Fire

"This day I have dreaded since you first came to me. It is true Delilah, I love you as of my own blood. Perhaps I never was the father your heart needed, but still..." Knaira trailed off as he gazed down upon Delilah. He sat high upon a stone bench, bejeweled in preparation for the stately affairs. But in this moment he seemed vulnerable and sad.

"You have been what you could, father." Delilah said softly, head upturned, "And more than I have ever had." He paused, then reached up, laying a hand upon Knaira's knee, strong and dark, as strong as the day he had come in to their lives through the gate on earth, "What saddens you so?" Delilah asked.

"Your blood worries me. You have taken the faces of many I have known, and a few I have not. I see them in you now..." he held up a ring, with a large clear jewel, "like facets reflecting a different vision." He paused and took Delilah's claw in his, then gave it a firm squeeze, "But you are still human at your heart, this too I can see. And so as I love you, I give you a choice. Surrender this Djheni nonsense, you would be a beautiful meru and as you are human there would be no reason for you to face the Achera. There are many Djheni who would honor you with their lineage born to your womb."

Delilah started to protest, rising angrily at the suggestion, "I will not..." he started to say, but Knaira's upraised claw stopped him.

"I know, I did not think you would accept that, but it is an option. Another, less honorable but one I would grant you, is leave to the wastes. I will tattoo you myself so other cities might believe, but you may never show your face in Emorre again." He looked upset at this option, but Delilah could see, he was truly afraid, "You also shall need this, it was your great grandmother Nora's. It belongs to you." He said, laying a leather wrapped parcel in Delilah's hands.

"Why father?" Delilah pleaded as he took the ancient book. What Knaira proposed was such a dishonor to himself and to Delilah, if it were known the city of Emorre might even rise up against him.

He looked to the side, a door ajar, an eye peeking through its crack, "Come in." He said softly, and Janet, Delilah's mother, stepped in. Her eyes were down cast, submissive and sad. There were tears on her face but pride in her footsteps, "When you were so small your nose came to my knee I made your mother a vow. And she has reminded me of it."

It was the first time Delilah had come face to face with his mother since he was a child. The keep was a large place and it was easy to miss some one, especially if one tried. Even now Delilah's heart was full of anger while his gut said run, "Sweet Deli..." Her mother said, then halted, there was so much to say, but neither of them had words to express.

"I promised her, that I would give you a life, that I would be bound to care for you. And so I have, even beyond that vow I do not wish to lose you. And I fear tonight you will die upon the proving ground. Your blood is weak though your body and magic is strong. The Achera will smell it too just as I do." While he spoke Janet shook and crawled in to the old Djheni's lap, face buried in his chest.

What Delilah saw in that moment was something he had never truly imagined. Knaira's claw, gentle upon his mother's shoulder, his body drawing her up, protective. The softened expression on his face. He truly did love her, and she him. Delilah's eyes watered for a moment, but with a quick breath he pulled himself back from tears, "Then I rescind your vow father in as much as need be. You have raised me well, you have cared for me, and it is time for this child to become a Djheni." He paused collecting his thoughts, then continued, "If I am not fit to be Djheni, then that is no fault of your own." He paused, then added, "Death does not frighten me." And in that moment he truly meant it. Delilah clutched the book to his chest, clenching muscles to keep from trembling.

"Then so be it child. May the Achera honor you." Knaira said softly and Janet began to weep in full.

"Mother." Delilah said soothingly, "I do not intend to die. But if I do, know, I have had a good life. I have loved, I have fought, I have won, I have bled, and I have cried. What more can be asked of a life?" Then he looked up to Knaira again, and added, "And of my boon..." he started.

"After, when you are Djheni." Knaira interrupted.

Delilah continued, changing his tactic, "Then, bring Rachel Willard with you, that is all I ask. She should be there as witness."

Knaira frowned deeply, "It is not appropriate, she is not kin, nor is she Djheni. What is this old meru to you?"

A small smile came to Delilah's lips and he whispered, just loud enough to be heard, "I have loved."

"You've stolen my own meru out from under my nose?" Knaira said, scolding, though there was mirth in his eyes, "Very well, She will witness." he said through a softly rumbling laugh.

Janet turned, her eyes red from crying but surprise written all over her face, "You and Rachel?" She asked incredulously.

"Since I was 11, mother." Delilah replied airily, a blush spreading from muzzle to ears.

Knaira only laughed harder then exclaimed, "I will need to speak to my guards about letting strange Djheni in to the harem at night."

"You yourself gave the order to give me entry. If I recall it was so I could 'socialize with kin'. You never specified the type of socialization." Delilah told him with a small grin. He left out the part where a guard had caught him sheathed to the hilt in Rachel's heavenly core. That argument had spanned days until at last he had come around to Delilah's way of thinking.

"Eleven..." Janet echoed, still staring at Delilah, "Rachel should be ashamed of herself."

"Mother, you gave up such human nonsense when you laid me in a basket at the feet of the Djheni and said 'here, I don't want her anymore'." Delilah snapped, sudden fury welling up from her belly.

Knaira sighed and glanced to Janet then back, "None of that you two. Janet, sex is just a game to Djheni children, they don't become fertile until as early as 21. It's harmless fun."

Delilah thought of Trum'ran and debated how harmless it was. If he had been different, if the tree spirit had not been a part of him, that day might have ended with his skull above Trum'ren's bed. A part of Delilah's stomach fell away, leaving him hollow for a moment. His rage was gone as quick as it had come, now all he felt was fear. Trum'ran had called him meat, and so too had Knaira in as polite a way as he could, "I must prepare for tonight." He said quickly and turned away, hiding the haunted expression on his face.

"Yes." Knaira said softly with the laughter gone.

Behind him, Delilah heard Janet rise, then a soft small hand gripped his arm, "I love you." She said, voice wavering, "I've always loved you. I -- I wasn't a good mother, you deserved better. That's why..." she stopped there and her hand fell away from Delilah's stony form.

Something inside melted a little and he glanced back, "I know mother." He realized, if he died today, this would be it, "No matter what happens tonight. Remember, I love you too, and you did right by me. I even forgive you for what happened to everyone else." He paused, then drew the old, frail woman in to his arms, "No matter what, be happy." He looked up to Knaira and said softly, "I know you've given her a good life, please, if I die..." He stopped and wiped a tear from his eye, "Don't let that happiness wither." He looked down in to his mother's face. She was so much older than he remembered, there were gray hairs and lines around her eyes that he had never seen before, lines from smiling he realized.

For a moment he remembered a song bird he had known as a child, so content in its cage, singing all day long. Then he remembered who that bird had belonged to, Maria's mother. The memory of blood all over the kitchen; Maria laying in the tub with something broken inside. So many terrible memories, he suddenly wished for this day to be over, one way or another. With another squeeze, he stepped back, shaking the emotional turmoil from his mind, "Keep her safe and joyful father. I will see you on the proving grounds." and with that he departed.

The whole day through he grew more and more nervous. He even managed to lose the delicious lunch Omolaud and Oren had made him, so when he arrived at the proving ground he was starving as well as terrified. When they asked him if he desired the Fire of the Achera he almost took it, but thinking of Rachel turned away silently, refusing. It turned out he was fourth in line, he wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but it didn't help his mood.

Delilah sat, tense and afraid as the crowd roared and pounded. He could hear laughter and joy, but felt none of it. Then at last the crowd hushed as the General stepped forth to speak, "The first to be called is Nha'la Re'o Emorre. Step forward child and find your path."

He was a small thing, not much larger than Delilah was before Trum'ran. He took no drug to steady himself though and instead stepped forward with a cool calmness. He is a brother Delilah thought, but had never met him in the keep, a child of Knaira. The crowd grew mostly silent as he laid himself to the stone and allowed the Djheni to chain him down with head toward Delilah. On the far side Delilah could see the bleachers with Knaira, his mother, and Rachel sitting front and center. Nha'la's head fell back, looking at the other children in waiting, then closed his eyes.

There was a small fight, three Achera nipping and growling until the bigger one drove the smaller ones off. He stepped to the boy, circled, sniffed, circled again, then stopped with a hind leg raised like a dog and foot upon his chest. The pale shaft extended, splashing Nha'la's face in hot mucus, then it throbbed and erupted, spilling pungent urine over the boys muzzle and chest. He turned his head, sputtered, then gasped for air.

Empty, the Achera circled once again, penis bobbing below him. This time he stopped between the boy's thighs and pressed his wedge shaped muzzle down, snuffling. Nha'la already starting to feel the effects of the urine, lifted his hips to the Achera's muzzle and moaned. The crowd roared and the Achera leaped on top, driving himself in to the child's center. You could hear the chants of Meru and Djheni echoing back and forth in the crowd. At the center of it the boy, panting and thrusting up against his new mate.

The chant turned to meru then as blood splashed to the sand, the girl grinding away in to the stillness of the Achera's shaft. Within moments it was over, the child gone and a new, whimpering meru in its place. Blood and semen coated her belly and she begged the Djheni wordlessly as they released her. Her thighs trembled, hot fluids running down to splatter in the sand as she was dragged before the podium, "Who claims this meru?" the General asked.

Knaira stood and shouted, "I claim her, she is of my blood, raised of my house for all of her life."

No other came forward and so she was lead away by two house guards, to be tended to and put in the harem. And then there were two, the next a Djheni who claimed his father's sword, proud and strong. Then a boy who was torn apart as two Achera fought over him. There were howls of sorrow and amusement, even a few sobs of horror.

They trampled him, trapped as he was on the rock, as the two fought back and forth across the sand. And when he stilled, the victor ate instead of mated. The sickening crunch of bone, the rip of skin, deafening in the sorrowful silence that followed. Delilah's stomach would have emptied if it had not already been. None came to stop the Achera, and once he had returned to the pack, they carried the poor boy's body from the grounds, leaving a trail of blood and gore.

A bucket was brought out and they rinsed the stone clean, then there were a few words said at the passing of the child. Then it was his turn, "Delilah Re'o Nora, come and let the Achera decide your fate."

He stood, body clenched for a moment, then stepped forward before the Djheni came to drag him. He would not be humiliated on this day, at least not by any but the Achera. He laid himself to the hot damp stone and offered up his wrists and ankles to the shackles. With that click, he felt something inside of him tremble, a finality like a sword through the gut telling him he was already dead but he just didn't know it yet.

Between his legs he could see his loved ones, crying, fearful. He regretted asking for Rachel to be here, she shouldn't have been subjected to this, "I love you." He said softly, drowned by the crowd, but she, caught in his gaze, returned the sentiment.

To his side there was a snarling and thumping, it was his Achera, the black with red and the pack leader, old and gray scaled. They fought over him, and he almost hopped the elder would win. They parted then charged, crashing shoulder to shoulder, teeth scraping on plate, claws scrabbling to find flesh to rend. Then again they clashed, throwing up gouts of sand under their feet as they scrabbled for purchase.

It was over too fast for Delilah's liking, the old gray rolling over to display submission, but the black and red going in for the kill. He tore the Achera's throat, then reared, penis erecting with a roar, and gave two great thrusts, barbs tearing the beast's sex apart, spraying blood to the ground and coating his penis in the red poison.

When those golden eyes turned to Delilah, there was no recognition of days spent with gentle head upon a lap. There was hunger there, burning out all other thought. The crowd chanted over and over, "Meat." They knew, as Trum'ran had known, as Knaira had known. It was too late to run to the wastes, too late to claim his humanity and offer his body up to breed.

The dark beast circled him, blood stained muzzle sniffing but not touching. The Achera rituals were just as harsh as the Djheni, breeding was done by the strongest. Two would fight until one submitted, the strongest would drench the weaker's senses in pheromones, rendering them helpless before mating. This wasn't mating, this was a hunt and Delilah was the prey.

The Achera climbed up, heavy feet falling on either side of his head. The hot sun-scorched belly scales brushed along his skin, smooth and hard. His head raised, looking down between them, he could no longer see his family, all he could see was the pale white, red, and black flesh that aimed at him. The penile scales lifted then laid flat with a wet slap, muscles flexing in time with the great Achera's heart. From there the Achera released, drenching his body in the bitter foulness of its urine. Delilah sobbed out as it soaked in to his skin, he could feel the heat in his belly begin almost immediately. Chemicals leeched in through his skin and pheromones teased at his senses, causing his womb to clench and tremble involuntarily.

He was taken suddenly then, as the flow slacked to a trickle. The beast hunched and rammed his penis in, tearing Delilah's small unused vulva. He screamed then, unable to hold it back, knowing the futility of his life in that one moment. The blood of the Gray Achera coated most of that penis and clotted behind the barbs, poison to every beast but itself. Delilah's entrance was far too narrow to accommodate the Achera's girth, blood mingled, trembling began.

That one thrust bottomed out, causing a great pain some where deep inside Delilah's belly. Again he thought, I'm dead, and this time I know it. Then he withdrew. The penile scales lifted, like knives, or the barb on a fish hook. They caught in the tender flesh of his vagina. They cut, pulling free then caught again, once more they tore free, ripping him. Again he screamed, but it was soon choked off as his body started to shake. Muscles spasmed and twitched, and still that delicious yet deadly sexual fire raged in him. Even through the agony as his poor sex was flayed, his hips lifted, begging for more.

As of yet his mind wasn't far enough gone to not know what was happening to him. In fact he was as clear headed and sober as ever. Though his body responded, some where in his mind he felt no lust. There was another great thrust then, tearing, as the Achera raped him. That was the beast needed before sticky burning seed splashed in to his wounds. Again the beast thrust, then stayed there, laying down upon Delilah and letting nature take its course.

Heat pumped in to Delilah, gushing wetness pouring through the wounds in to his body cavity. His belly swelled and ached. A sob tore up his throat as another seizure wracked his flesh. It hurt, oh how it hurt, but it was nothing to the static and fire that drowned his body. His ears hummed like a badly tuned radio, his eyes flashed and sparked. Every nerve ending spasmed, firing off as poison leeched in to his blood. Still that core of his mind was steady, cold, and terrified. In but seconds it would be trapped there in a body that no longer worked.

In that desperate moment, Delilah reached, reached for his child across the desert. He wanted comfort, he wanted home. He reached for the forest he remembered so well, the moon that had drawn his eyes in wonder as a child. He reached, and cried tears of longing. His face turned away from the beast, not wanting his killer to be the last thing he saw.

In that brief moment, something inside gave way, the beast's penis sliding another half its length in. He howled, the Achera too howled with him, drowning out the chant of the crowd. The hunger returned violently, it burned in his belly, as bright and voracious as ever he had known. He didn't resist, he didn't fight it, he gave in and hoped it would consume his mind before the poison ruined his body.

There was a rush, a rush he had felt many times before. Again the Achera howled, but this time alone and with a crazed echo in it. Life flowed in to Delilah, life precious and beautiful. Not only the semen that was wasted upon his womb, but the life his hunger fed upon. The Achera gave it up, willingly or not, he gave it up, surrendering himself to Delilah's hunger. And with that surrender came another burst of semen along with an erection so hard the scales stood on end and cut deep in to Delilah's belly.

His bones ached, his muscle tore, his skin split, regrew, and split again as Delilah fed. The static and fire faded to a low roar, then a crackle at the edge of his mind. He reached up, to touch the Achera, but found his wrists chained. To his hungering mind this seemed absurd, cobwebs holding back the demon within. Under the gaze of his will the chains shredded, tore, and he folded himself around his predator turned prey. The Achera whimpered, burying its wide muzzle in his chest and throat. Those great golden eyes looked upon him mournfully, not knowing what possessed its soul.

With a heave Delilah bodily threw the beast off and stood. His own erection raged, looking less Djheni than Achera. Between his thighs blood and semen splattered to the sand, but the wounds rapidly closed as his body continued to reshape itself. But his mind was lost, consumed by the hunger, and he threw himself to the whimpering Achera before every Djheni present.

Instinct was a powerful force, and the Achera was in its thrall. The great beast surrendered to the man--the Djheni, laying upon its back and spreading its legs. He exposed his vent and that vicious barbed shaft, still erect and throbbing with every jet of yellow tinged semen he spilled over his own belly. Now it was Delilah's turn, and he took the Achera, thrusting his own throbbing erection in to the beast's vent to the hilt. There were gasps in the crowd but Delilah heard none of it.

His body gave a great heave, the last of the blood's effects wearing off, but still that fire burned in his belly as another fire raged in his mind. He raped his prey, then and there, thrust after thrust, large claws upon the thick scaled chest. Delilah stared in to the Achera's eyes, a connection made in that moment, that surrender. Then both sets of eyes closed, and together they came, soul's linked still, emotions feeding back on one another.

When at last Delilah stood, his semen drooling from the Achera's vent, he looked upon the stunned crowd. The beast's head raised, then he rolled over and pressed his muzzle to Delilah's belly, wide tongue licking the mess from him. Together they walked towards the podium and the Bleachers where his family sat.

The General cleared his voice and said, firmly, but tinged with an unknown emotion, "Djheni Delilah Re'o Nora, what boon do you ask?" No other sound but the wind interrupted Knaira. The crowd too stunned and confused to utter a word.

Delilah raised a hand and pointed to Rachel, "Father, I ask for the meru Rachel Willard."

At his side the Achera settled to the sand, looking up at him. The beast still shook in the aftermath of Delilah's hunger, and he still felt the beast's strange emotions beating at the back of his skull. For a moment he thought of Omolaud's warnings, that some day the soul's he took would drown him and destroy him. Then he shook the thought from his mind as Knaira rose and picked Rachel up under the arms, then set her to the proving ground's sands.

She ran to him, crying, but he stopped her a foot away and called to Deurak, standing guard aside Knaira, "Please take her to the harem, I must bathe first, I am covered in Achera blood." His eyes raised to his father, and he said loud enough to Hear, "I am Del Re'o Achera. First of my blood." Then with the confused cheers of the stands he left, the crowd parting around him. Every Djheni stared as he passed, expressions unreadable to him in that strange moment.

Deurak followed, holding Rachel's hand, leading her through the crowd. When they caught up to Del, he nodded curtly, a tightness around his eyes, "Delilah... Del. I salute you Djheni." There was a hint of sorrow in his words, Deurak still desired him, and would likely always.

Del stopped and faced Deurak fully, returning the salute, "Thank you Deurak." There was more he wanted to say to his old friend, but the crowd was still close, and Rachel was there, staring at her feet, trembling, "Rachel my love, I'm fine, and I'll talk to you tonight after I've cleaned. Achera blood is deadly."

At home he found Omolaud looking worried, then relieved as he stepped in, then suddenly her expression changed to one even stranger than the crowds, "Delilah, you..." She started and he interrupted.

"Del now, Delilah is the name of a girl child. I am a Djheni." He told her.

"Your skin." she continued. He glanced down and saw what she meant. Every inch of his skin was thickened, with great wide lumps. At the center of each lump, where it peaked, the skin broke to show glossy black scales.

He laughed a short, confused laugh, then said quietly, "I guess they wont need to tattoo me." he had even forgotten that part of the ceremony, "Probably wont even need armor when I got in to battle."

"What did you do?" She asked, stepping to him, her hand reaching out to touch the scales peeking up through his chest.

He stepped away quickly, holding up a claw, "No, don't... I've got Achera blood all over me." Then he paused, and in response to her question, "I was going to die, and in that moment I panicked, and the hunger came back to me, just for a moment."

"You shouldn't have done that." She said, quietly.

He growled at her, "I was going to die." A sudden burning rage billowed up in the back of his throat, all the pain, all the tension of the last week, blooming in his thoughts, "I was going to die!" He shouted, and spun, striking a wall with the palm of his hand.

Will and force bound together, the building shook and the stone shattered under his touch. But he was blind to that at the moment, every part of him trembling as if the blood had once again started burning away his nerve endings. He screamed then stilled, squatting on the floor, ankle deep in crumbled mortar and fieldstone. Dust clogged his nose and mouth as he panted.

When he had himself under control again, he looked up. Omolaud was pressed against the far wall, chanting quietly under her breath. He could smell the power, see it blurring at the edge of his vision, "It's okay.." he said quietly, standing again. Then looked down at the wreckage. He could see in to his bedroom, and there on the floor, crushed under a stone, was the skull of Trum'ran.

Years ago he had fashioned a stone basin large enough to bathe in. Rarely he used it due to the price of water, but today -- today he needed it. Del looked up as Omolaud entered again, carrying another bucket of steaming water, then Oren followed with another, hers cold. His bath raised, and he soaked in it. With the Adrenaline gone the pains returned, every inch of his body ached. His skin, so tight and sore, his belly, tender and bruised still. When alone again, he wept.

When the bath cooled, he left it and stood out on the balcony to dry. Behind him he felt some one join him, by the texture he knew it was Omolaud, "The poison will denature within hours, it doesn't like the air." She told him, staying well away.

"Good." He whispered, then turned, "But is my own blood toxic now?"

She gave an open shrug, "We can test." Then, hesitating, she asked him quietly, "You broke the wall with a spell, I felt it. But..." She stopped, seeing his face darken.

He turned away from her, looking down in to the court yard. Below him the Achera sat, gazing up at him and the balcony. The beast called out plaintively, chin lifting with his rising cry. Still she waited for an answer, and when the beast quieted, he turned his head and said, "It's best not to ask those kinds of questions. I have no answer and I fear the repercussions." He wondered what they would do or say if they found out the nature of his magic. For that matter he wondered what he would do if he ever understood it.

She pursed her lips, ready to press the question, then wilted some, looking to the floor, "Once I would have wrung the answer from you." She said, "But now, after so many years, I truly don't care. Everything changes, every day the world is new and fresh, bringing new questions without answers. Every day we have to change and adapt to it, or be trampled." Omolaud licked her lips, then continued, "I am tired Delilah."

"Del." He reminded, then came to her and laid his heavy claws upon her shoulders. They felt frail, giving way under the weight. He drew her in and held her for a moment, letting her lean upon his young strength. Her fingers traced the outline of the black scales, the skin had pulled back further, itching the whole time. When he pulled back she looked up at him curiously. "What do you think?" he asked.

"You are the strangest Djheni child I have ever cared for." She whispered with a fond smile and said nothing more.

When the sun set he had Rachel brought to him, she belonged to him now and he would hide nothing. There on the balcony he took her, under the brilliant desert stars. Together they crested, then laid, trembling in one another's arms. At last Rachel spoke, soft and scared, "I feared so much... if you had died, I would have died. I could not go another year in that life. I hate it, I hate Knaira, I hate my life." She trailed off tears glistening in her eyes, then she pressed her face to Del's chest and sobbed once before saying, "But now I am yours... I can live with that, happily."

Del kissed the top of her head, and pressed himself deeper in to her core, feeling her belly clench on him, "Shhh my love, you are mine now, I won't let anything happen to you. I won't let you have any more of the Fire of the Achera. I won't let you slip any farther away from me. You hear?"

She nodded in response and looked up. Her lips met his harshly as she crushed herself in to his arms. When they finally pulled apart again, she whispered, "Yes Lilah, yes... I love you." Again they came together, driving toward a second peak. Her breath quick and sharp as her body tensed, he panted in to the crook of her neck. Silent, Oren watched, and when Del at last tired she came to them, cleaned them both, and lead Rachel away.

At last he was alone with only the pain of his body to accompany him. The soreness from his fierce mating and the still growing ache from his ongoing change. His chest scales had pushed all the way through, islands of hard black in the sea of burnt gold. Once more he heard the mournful cry of the Achera in the courtyard, then a soft woof as the beast laid itself down to sleep.

Would that I had stayed a hermit and followed the Achera, that first year of my adult life. Perhaps things might have turned out different. But as the path formed before my feet, I walked it. I found myself ever called back to the human part of myself and even for a time the Djheni.

-3-

Solitude in the Crowd

Four ten days the Achera howled the night through, disturbing sleep for everyone in the keep. By the eleventh Del decided to leave, "It follows me everywhere, to the bluff, to the market, to the practice yard. It would follow me even here in my home but for the door I close behind me." He told Knaira, scowling. No one slept well and tempers were on edge.

"Then let it follow you out of the city and lose it somewhere in the wastes." His father replied, claws to his temples to try and rub the discomfort away.

"It knows the way back Father." Del retorted then shrugged, "Maybe it will lose interest in a day or two, or perhaps a ten day. Either way I leave in less than an hour."

"Go then, you are Djheni now and not beholden to me. In truth I will relish a sound sleep." Knaira said and waved Del off.

At home Rachel was in tears, laying in Oren's arms, "Please don't go." She pleaded as he came in.

He drew her small body up and held her tight, "I'm sorry sweetheart but I have to take the pack away from here before the entire citadel raises arms against me." She laid her face to his chest and cried, dampening his scales.

For a long while he held her, soothing her with gentle touches and kisses. He was careful not to encourage her fire, but his gentle caresses did eventually put her to sleep, "I love you Rachel." he whispered, quietly as he laid her in Oren's lap again.

The meru reached out then, and gripped at Del's thigh, "You are coming back Del, right?" She paused, then added, "I don't know... You seem more Achera than Djheni."

Del laid a hand over Oren's, patting it gently, "I will return, I promise. I do not know when, but I will before the year is up." With that Oren let go and laid an arm around Rachel, cradling her head in the crook of her shoulder.

"Yes my Djheni, I will keep her happy in your absence." She added as Del started for the door.

The Achera, his Achera lifted its head as he left the apartment. It's wide head pressing to Del's thigh, nearly knocking him off balance. The affectionate nuzzle was accompanied by a deep rumbling croon, then it stepped back and fell in behind to follow. Del took little, a few days worth of rations, a small pouch of money, his sword, and his great grandmother's grimoir.

Outside the front gate of the city, he found Deurak waiting. He sat, cross-legged in the shadow of the wall, "We need to talk." He told Del. "You told me once you would never be meru. You would be Djheni or meat."

Del nodded and sat down at his old friend's side, "Yes. And now I am Djheni."

"No. You were meat. You stole Djheni from the Achera. At least that is what they are saying around town." He replied, curtly.

"And what do you think?" Del asked.

Deurak looked at him directly, "I think I still love you, and I am glad you survived. You are strange, you are beautiful, you are powerful..." he stopped, hesitantly, then added, "You terrify me yet I cannot turn away." The tip of his penis poked free, glistening wetly. He turned his head away, embarrassed at his own words.

"I still won't be your meru, Deurak." Del said, gently, laying a hand to his friend's knee.

Deurak nodded, looking back to Del's face. "I know that now, but some day I want to come to you as Djheni to Djheni. Some day when you are ready."

Del smiled, then pinched that knee, "And on that day will you beg me as a meru?" His words teasing.

Deurak nodded again, looking away, "Yes." His voice a horse whisper, "Now, you have a long march ahead of you. Be careful, the Achera are dangerous."

"I know Deurak, trust me, I know. He tried to make me meat." Del replied, then stood, brushing dust from his legs, "Be well my friend, watch for me."

-

The pack had been driven out of the city by their need to eat, only Del's bloody shadow had stayed behind. They however had not gone far, Del's black and red was leader since the fall of the gray. Some how he felt a strange sense of community and kinship, standing in the middle of these wild beasts. He had won his place, the only one to ever win such a place. And as he hiked in to the sunset, a trail of Achera followed behind, each in order of hierarchy.

One of the old handlers had given him some pointers, telling him where the Achera roamed, and where to find the most fruitful feeding grounds. So he hiked, up one dune and down another, the trail behind him lengthening in shadow as the sun set. When it was finally too dark to see, he settled down on to a warm dune and gazed up at the stars. At his side the great blood and black beast laid down, its head pressing in to Del's lap.

Around them the pack settled in, making camp. Del observed quietly, the younger Achera starting to play and romp about. Some of the adults burrowing in to the ground, kicking up gouts of sand in to the air as their wedge shaped heads burrowed down. The rippling scales of their body allowed them to practically swim through the shifting sand. A time later there was a rush and a bellow, then the dune erupted far to his right. Out came three Achera gnashing and howling as they dragged a great worm from the depths of the dune.

Del had never seen their like, pale yellow-green flesh, segmented like an insect, and eyeless. It did however possess a great number of teeth in a ring like maw, which snapped and scraped at the flank of one of the hunters. A half dozen others descended on the prey, and together they killed it, then dragged the entirety of the worm from the ground.

When it was all over, the leader of the hunt dragged the worm in to the pack and laid it down at Del's feet, looking up at him with great golden tinged eyes. The prey was nearly fifteen feet long, and at its thickest close to a foot and a half across. Green blood oozed from hundreds of deep gouges, bites, and rips.

The entire pack circled around, expectantly, staring at him. The multitude of glowing eyes made Del nervous, but eventually an idea struck him. He reached down, and grabbed the head of the worm. Its flesh was rough, covered in thick prickly hairs that helped it glide through the sand. He twisted, wrenched, then pulled a chunk free, green blood splattering his thighs as he worked. When he was done, he sat back, laying the strip of muscle tissue in his lap, staring at it, trying to decide if it was edible or not.

The black and red Achera at his side huffed softly, then trotted forward and started eating. Sloppy smacks, the crunch of cartilage and bone, and the husky gulps as he swallowed echoed in the quiet night. Then on down the line, one after another until about midway down and it started to get chaotic. Achera fought, bit, and shoved, trying to get a bite to eat. Near the tail end of the meal--and worm, order had been completely lost and so had manners. A few food fights even turned in to violent matings, especially amongst the children.

The worm flesh wasn't bad, he even recognized it as something he had eaten regularly at home, though prepared far differently. After dinner, many of the adults settled down to groom, relax, or mate with their chosen partners. Del watched with mild interest, wondering exactly how he would fit in to this strange bestial culture--and how he could escape it. To his surprise most of the interaction was not violent or aggressive, most of the violence was spent in fighting for rank, especially amongst the young.

As if to emphasize this, Del's own bloody shadow was called away from his side by a lower ranked member. It started with gentle nips and teasing, a nose run over vent, a soft crooning, and eventually Del's beast stood over the smaller one. He could smell the pungent, unpleasant aroma of urine as it sprayed over the smaller Achera's face. Then they tumbled, one landing on top of another, rolling and sliding down the dune until they settled at the bottom, locked together belly to belly, huffing, growling, and moaning.

Even from a dozen feet away the scent of the urine caused Del's hair to stand on end a tightness in his loin. So he stood and marched his way up wind of the pack to clear his head. And there he laid, watching the stars and listening to the pack's activities. When his shadow returned, it was with some exhaustion. The heavy beast fell to the sand with a woof, then rolled over on its back and squirmed its way close to Del, until their sides were touching.

"And how many did you breed with tonight?" He asked the beast, amused, "I wonder; did the Djheni learn from your kind? Or did the Achera learn from the Djheni?" Del laid a hand to the beast's belly, and stroked ever so gently. He could feel the scales, hot from exertion; they flicked every so often to draw air to skin and radiate heat away. "Being leader must be hard work, huh?" The Achera only huffed in response and pressed his nose in to Del's side, under his arm.

-

Some time after midnight the pack rose again and started meandering about, all but his shadow. Del took the hint, realizing that he wasn't going to get any sleep this night. They marched on until well past sunrise, in to the heat of the day. At last, perhaps an hour before noon, Del sat down on the peak of a dune, and stopped walking. At first the pack bunched up behind him, then it took the hint and made camp.

If he was leader, they would follow his lead, and he was exhausted. Again the hunters hunted and his shadow laid down at his side, but this time Del paid no attention.

He was fast asleep in a pleasant dream when a painful nip at his shin woke him. One of the hunters, huffing and whining with a kill at its feet. Half in dream still, Del tore a piece free from the kill then started to chew. The strip of meat hung between his teeth, unswallowed as he fell asleep again.

When Del woke again it was well past afternoon, most of the pack was dozing in the hot sun. He sat up, spitting out the dried and shriveled piece of flesh and wiping his mouth clean, "Okay, that wasn't pleasant, whatever it was." He murmured to himself, however, he was hungry, so he broke in to some of his rations, some cured meat to chew on and a swallow of water.

His shadow lifted his head at the commotion, then rose and trotted over. The beast pressed his wide head in to Del's lap, knocking his satchel out of it in the process and huffed.

"Oh? Am I not allowed to get up yet?" Del asked the sleepy beast. One wide eye opened and looked up at Del, then closed again with another huff.

-

It was dusk when the pack stirred again, shadow at last freeing his lap. Del rose, stretched, and massaged aching muscles, then walked off a ways to hunt. For a mage hunting was trivial. Find a source of life near the surface of the desert. Chant to it to draw it up then kill it before the enchantment wore off. Del had done this many times on his treks in to the deep desert.

This time it was a little different though--for when he returned carrying a small desert burrower, his shadow wanted to share. He had torn the small animal open, stripping out its offal, and started to take a bite of the fresh meat when his shadow thrust his muzzle in to Del's hands and just took the morsel.

For a moment he was stunned as he watched the Achera take a bite of it, swallow, then pass it off to a lesser ranking member. "Am I not allowed to eat now either?" Del chided the Achera, then dropped down to the sand with a sigh, "If only you could speak and explain the etiquette of Achera society to me, hmm?"

So again he ate rations and watched the pack. Hunters returned dragging their prey, and this time Del watched closely. One by one they came to him, no great worm this time just smaller things; a half dozen burrowers, two smaller worms, and a sand strider. None of the animals had been eaten yet, ripped, broken, bitten yes, but no flesh taken. Of the first three Del took a share and passed on the rest, touching it then sitting back.

On down the line the food went, when a hunter had a turn they got to take some of some one else's kill, but never their own. Near the end the hunter just gave up and tossed the half eaten carcass to the younger pups and let them fight over it. Manners however were enforced for the higher ranked Achera.

At last, when all were fed after another round of hunting and the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, the pack came to attention. With that cue Del started hiking again, toward the setting sun.

-

When they made camp early that morning before sunrise shadow came to him. Del expected this of course, but he did not expect the angular nose to press between his legs. Hot breath rushed across his bare sex as the beast crooned at him. He recognized the motions and a blush came to his cheeks at the realization. His shadow wanted to breed.

"I can't..." Del said softly and tried to push the large head away. Another harder croon and his shadow shifted from foot to foot, body rippling slightly from neck to rump, scales shimmering in the star light. Then he bumped against Del's side, nipping. Skin bruised but didn't break. Another nudge and a swish of tail, almost knocking him over.

Shadow backed up in to him, pressing his vent to Del's chest. The smell was potent, a hint of urine, stale Achera semen, and the musky pheromone laced fluid that leaked freely. Del groaned softly and leaned back, turning his head away, "Come now, that isn't fair." He said as his groin tightened.

Again the beast turned and nudged its muzzle in between Del's thighs, sniffing and huffing. This time his sheath slit parted and his slowly growing erection emerged... Del stood then at last giving in, "Fine, you aren't going to leave me alone otherwise are you?" His penis stiffened to fully erect, half emerged from his sheath. With a clench he forced the rest of it free then stepped around the beast and tried to position himself at the vent.

His shadow side stepped and bounded back, then forth, huffing at him excitedly. When the beast stilled again, he pushed his head up between Del's thighs once more, and dragged his nose upward, to brush smooth scales over the underside of his emerged penis. A tongue slid out, to lick along that flesh, coaxing a shiver out of Del, "Oh..." he sighed, then chuckled, "You want it your way, huh? I don't pee on people..." he trailed off, and again sighed this time in exasperation.

The bitter smell made his nose wrinkle as he started to piss over his shadow's muzzle. It ran in bright shining gold rivulets between those wide eyes, then down over its nose and lips. Del felt absolutely silly as he did it but the beast reacted excitedly, rubbing its face in to the spitting tip of his phallus and lapping at the stream. "Does it affect you the way yours affects those meru of yours? Huh?" He wondered aloud as the Achera fell over on his back, body wriggling about while howling and grunting.

His bladder empty, Del dropped to his knees between the Achera's rear legs. His shadow's vent was swollen open, dark flesh glistening gold with heat, a rivulet running down over his tail base in to the sand. The scent now up close as he was drove his mild arousal to a raging lust. With a snarl he rammed himself in to the Achera's vent.

He had once before come together with his shadow, but as lost as he was that time, he had not remembered the sensation. This time in full control of his faculties, he marveled at the sensation. The entire length of the beast's vent clenched at him, swallowed at him, felt like a throat trying to drag him down. It was also hot, far hotter than his own flesh and sopping wet. Enough fluid rushing out between his thrusts to leave his body drenched chest to knees. The scent so strong around him, he could taste it on his tongue.

Del laid down between the Achera's legs, head to the beast's chest scales, and held him, tightly. He didn't thrust, just laid there buried to the hilt in a piece of heaven. His Achera howled out again, and clamped like a vice upon his cock, making him gasp in pleasure. And together they laid, coupled, for hours. Del released in to his new meru a dozen times, and not once did the beast's womb let go or stop suckling at him. They fell asleep coupled together like that as the sun rose.

When Del woke, it was to his Achera squirming out from under him. His cock was aching, still semi erect, and still dripping from the tight fluid confines. He was a mess, but too sore to move. He even had to feed his penis back in to its sheath, the muscles inside too sore to retract it. His shadow wasn't much better, rear legs wide apart and trembling, as it stumbled away with vent drooling.

Del laughed then, and didn't stop laughing until another Achera prodded him with a muzzle curiously, "I wonder how many Djheni have experienced that?" He asked aloud, then patted the quizzical beast on the nose, "I'm fine, but remind me to pull out before falling asleep next time." It was not his shadow, but another smaller Achera, one of the hunters. The beast laid down on his left, head to thigh.

When his shadow returned, he flopped down on his side and pressed belly in to Del's right, sandwiching him between two warm beasts. His shadow kept an eye on the smaller one but made no move, just kept his place.

-

The pack continued on like that, traveling slowly west each day. They rested when Del grew tired, they hunted at every break, and Del was expected to perform for three or four Achera. He did however learn to turn their sexual advances away and kept his harem of Achera meru to less than six. Life was simple, routine was everything, even the occasional bloody battles for dominance were a part of it.

There were two forms of dominance in the pack. Sexual dominance and pack hierarchy. Sexual dominance was from the bottom up, a pack member chose the one who they would spend their time with during rest periods and who they mate. However they only chose one who was of a higher rank. Hierarchy was determined through strength and fitness. Usually violence that ended in minor wounds, and occasionally rape of a higher ranking member who rebuked advances. The one who won, stole the position of the other, knocking them back to lowest rank.

The lowest rank however was a mess. It was the young, it was the inexperienced, it was the old, and it was the infirm. They fought amongst themselves constantly, ever shifting rank amongst themselves, but primarily ignored by the pack. Del worried occasionally what would happen if and when he was challenged. He knew it might be his only way to escape the pack. No one would care if he left if he was bottom rank, the trouble would be surviving combat or rape.

-

After two months; far deeper in the desert than he had ever been. They reached an oasis forest, so far off the trade routes that few if any Djheni had been there in a thousand years. It was here they stayed, it reminded Del of the oasis outside of Emorre. Del felt weak out here however, so unlike his own oasis, now he felt so far away from home. His magic came to him only with great effort, though the chant was as strong as it ever was, simply without his will to back it. Each step along his journey had sapped that strength and it ached in him now.

He first noticed Shadow's pregnancy while they were laying together after sex, the Achera's great claws clutching at his back, holding him close. Del felt off balance, the beast's belly pushing up in to him, rolling him to the side. When he pulled back to inspect he could see the large paunch, "Shadow, you're pregnant..." He mumbled to himself, then reached out to run his fingers over the wide swell. It wasn't particularly big, just enough to notice, and harder than normal.

He wondered for a moment, who could have done it. Then realized that Achera society permitted only Del himself without unseating the beast from his rank, "how much did I change?" he asked quietly, then laid his head down upon his meru's belly, just above his damp vent, "Are these mine?" He wondered aloud, feeling a strange sort of pride and love.

The weeks passed and Del watched his meru swell. Soon they stopped mating all together and just laid together in each others arms. Some where along the line Del had fallen in love, it was a strange sort of love, with no words and little romance. But it was love none the less. A second of his meru was also gravid with pregnancy though there was doubt whether it was his as she had also been with others shortly before coming to him.

-4-

Life

When my first child was born, it was a shock to me. A new species, a new life with a completely new nature. A child born of three worlds. Human, Djheni, Achera. As shocking as it was however, I loved him the moment I first laid eyes on him, and loved him even to the day he died clutching at my claw. It is true, he hurt me greatly, but a mother's love can transcend even that.

The seasons changed slowly. One morning Del awoke to howling and huffing. Shadow was nipping at his flank and nudging him. He stood, rubbing the sleep from his face and glanced about, trying to take in what disturbed the pack so. Then he heard it; A soft, downy hiss. The sunlight was redder than usual, and as he looked toward the dawn, he saw the light vanish behind a wall a mile high, "Sandstorm..." he muttered.

The Achera were capable of surviving a sandstorm, some times the young and old would die, choking on dust, but a healthy adult could survive, buried in the sand. Del however could not survive naked in a sandstorm, nor could he bury himself in the desert and wait it out. Around him the pack was frantic, looking at him, darting about, or huddling against parents. They couldn't burrow here, the tree roots were too tight, there was no where to dig comfortably. So he started running out in to the desert and the pack followed.

There he stopped , between dunes, and let the pack dig in. The adults buried themselves and their children. A few couldn't and came to him, huddling for comfort. He held them and looked up at the wall of darkness. It would arrive within the minute, he was sure of it. The downy hissing had turned in to a scream as it rolled forth. The wind started to pick up, kicking up splashes of dune in to his face. He turned away and started chanting, adding his will to the spell.

He had practiced some over the past few months, and read much in his great grandmother's book. But his spells tended to annoy or startle the Pack and with his will weakened the chant drained him quickly--so he practiced only small or quiet things. Now however called for something greater. The spell he cast turned the wind back on itself, creating an eddy before them. He got it up just in time for the storm to hit. He drew his sash over his face as dust filtered down around him and his pack. Most of it went around, pushed aside by the strange pressure wave but a small amount fell through and built up at the leading edge, turning rapidly in to a great dune.

For what felt like years he chanted, danced, and willed his wind break to hold. By the time he could again see the ruddy sunlight he was almost too exhausted to move. He allowed the spell to fall at last then curled up as dust rained down upon him, carried on the light breeze behind the storm.

One by one his pack extracted themselves from the sand and gathered around. Del counted them, knowing each and every one of them personally. One had not returned, only one. That one was his pregnant meru. His shadow had come, gravidly waddling across the dune towards him. Quietly Del mourned and searched, but there was no sign of a body.

The next day a hint of moisture tinged the air, likely what had given power to the sandstorm. By that evening it started to rain, by the next morning the desert was a sea of green. The Achera feasted upon the fresh young stems. Del ate as well, though the woody stems were not entirely satisfying.

By the next week the stems had gone dry and brittle, with hundreds of little seeds spraying everywhere if so much as a breath of air knocked a stem. Then came the birds by the millions. Swirling through the air, darkening the sky, be-speckling the dunes. It was easy to capture enough to feed the entire pack with a few quick spells, enough so that they didn't notice him eating one of his own kills.

That night, as Del lay with his meru, Shadow began to pant and whine. It took him only a moment to realize what was happening. He tried his best to soothe the beast, stroking in all the sensitive places she liked, holding her head in his lap. The pain though just continued and soon Del could see stomach muscles clenching and rippling, in reverse of what he was familiar with.

Shadow lay upon her back, sprawled out, body bucking every so often as her belly clenched. Del settled behind, hands stroking over his meru's swollen and gaping vent. Deep inside something shifted with a rush of fluid and Del began to see the child. He reached in and cupped the small head, drawing on it. Shadow panted and howled as a shoulder pushed free, then the child came out with a squirt, right in to Del's lap.

He gently wiped mucus, blood, and amniotic fluid away, from the child's face and gazed down in to it. There was no mistake, this was his child. They were primarily Achera features, but skeletal structure, facial structure, and the low amount of scales suggested Djheni and Human nature mixed in. The genitals though were entirely Achera, a single puffy vent tucked between scaled thighs. The flesh was redder like that of a human or Djheni, not the midnight black of an Achera.

Shadow curled up on herself and whined pitifully for a while as contractions stopped and her vent began to rearrange itself properly. The child squirmed in his arms until it fell to the sand and got on to all fours. The shape of its hips legs and shoulders made it look a little awkward, but it moved, stumblingly forward before collapsing back in to Del's lap. A hunter returned after a few minutes and offered a first meal to the child.

Del watched as the child ate, ripping chunks of flesh out of the sand strider and swallowing whole. Then, once satisfied, it curled up and fell asleep against Del. Shadow was watching, pressed close, but seemed quite content to just relax and recover, "This is our child." Del whispered quietly to shadow, then leaned over to kiss the Achera gently between the eyes.

When the child woke and looked up, there was a moment of contact, a strange moment, so strange in fact that Del questioned his sanity. He was looking back up at himself with glowing love. Then as soon as Del jerked back in shock, the sensation was gone and the child began to cry. Quite bewildered, he rocked the child and stroked his back trying to calm him down.

-

Achera children can walk from the moment of birth, are born with teeth and claws to rip flesh for eating, and are almost entirely self sufficient. They stay with their parents for only a few weeks before falling in to place in the pack, amongst the rest of the bottom rank. It is there they learn to hunt, to fight, to love, and to play. The childhood of an Achera lasts only until they are strong enough to escape the struggle of the bottom. Depending on what they learn best, they may end up hunting for the pack and learn manners quite quickly after a few painful lessons from elder members. Occasionally pack members in the bottom left, wandering off in to the desert. Or joined other packs when meeting at watering holes or cities. This kept up the genetic diversity.

Del's son though was slower to learn, and stayed latched on to Del and Shadow for two months before eventually surrendering to peer pressure and joining the bottom. Still, at rest times he came to curl up with Del. It was at these times, that he felt that low level mental contact. Rarely was it more than just a soft and brief touch then gone. By now he knew it to be real, and knew that it was some innate magic of his son's, unique to him.

It was past midnight when Del's son came to him. Suddenly with a burst of emotion, like fireworks behind the eyes, he was filled with dread and panic. The boy bounced around him, hopping up on to two legs every so often and growling. He was already nearly as tall as Del when standing on two legs, so when he laid his claws on Del's shoulders, it nearly threw him over.

The panic continued for a long moment, then subsided as the contact vanished. Del looked down at his son, confused, "What is it? What is wrong?" He prompted.

There was no more contact, and no response. But a moment later a deep lusty rumble came from behind them. Del sat up quickly, pushing the boy off his lap and turning around. It was one of the older Achera and from his body language, quite amorous. Del stood up and turned away, back stiff and head high. It was the best he could do to mimic the Achera's body language to say no.

None of the other Achera were around as Del had been sitting off on his own after a long few hours with Shadow. This Achera had sought him out directly. Suddenly another contact, this time it wasn't just panic, but terror. It blinded Del for a moment and caused him to stagger to the side, clutching his head. In that instant of weakness, the old Achera knocked him over, a heavy claw landing on his chest and pinning him to the sand.

For months Del had been waiting for this, waiting for one of the others to challenge him. He knew he wasn't a particularly good leader, and he was no where near as strong as an Achera. Eventually some one would have tried to dislodge him. But that was no consolation as the massive beast stepped on him and draped a rear leg over his head, aiming. The pungent urine splashed on to his face, in to his mouth, up his nose, in to his eyes. It burned, it stung, and it stunk. For an instant he choked and sputtered while trying to pull away. The beast's claw on his chest dug in, leaving deep gashes, letting him know that wouldn't be allowed.

A moment passed before reason left, his body arching, legs spreading as a sudden uncontrollable heat rushed through his body. He felt like his blood was on fire, every nerve hyper sensitive, every pore open, accepting, craving the pheromones of the beast on top of him.

Some where a long the way his mind took a back seat to his body and he leaned up. His lips wrapped around the lower cleft of the beast's vent and he drank of piss, musk, and filth. As he did, it was like a bolt of lightning striking him in the belly and spreading outwards. He sobbed and choked in the process as fluids flowed in to his lungs. That however only made him crave satisfaction more. The beast had similar plans though as the massive barbed penis emerged from his vent across Del's cheek and lips, still drooling.

Del opened to it, wrapping his jaw around the thick wrinkled head. The filthy sour flavor filled his nose and mouth, triggering nausea in one hand and lust in the other. He sucked the head clean; his tongue lapping between folds of flesh around the head. Then he withdrew to lap upward, along the underside, tongue slipping inside of the seminal duct fold, cleaning from head to vent and even burying his face in there.

Drugged, aroused, and craving more he bathed the unfamiliar Achera's cloaca with his tongue. Something he would have never done 'sober', but right now he only wanted one thing more. And that one thing the Achera was inclined to provide. For after only a few more moments, the beast shifted, turning around and laying a fore-claw on Del's chest.

He looked up in to his rapist's eyes and silently begged. Hips lifted, legs spread, and he felt that viciously barbed phallus rub along his belly. It flexed upward, barbs rising as it did. They pricked at his belly, scratching here and there, and one catching at his penile slit and tearing the bottom edge a little. He cried out in need with his eyes closing and legs lifting to wrap around the Achera's hips. The beast finally obliged his helpless meru and bucked.

Though Del had been mated once by Shadow, that was nearly a year ago, and nothing since had penetrated him. This beast was nearly as large, and his member stretched that disused channel painfully. Del cried, arching his... No--her back as the thick wrinkled head bottomed out. It throbbed, barbs cutting jaggedly in to her flesh. Some where deep down she begged the beast to stay put, begged it not to gut her alive. Shadow had tried once and she had only survived by draining his life in to her and now she wasn't coherent enough to reach that part of herself.

This beast didn't. He laid atop of her, trapping her under him. Minutes passed, her womb clenching involuntarily, milking the first half of the penis within her. He didn't try to penetrate any farther, didn't thrust, just panted quietly as his barbs grew more and more erect. Soon they were standing straight out; dug nearly an inch in to the walls and muscles of her vagina. Blood leaked from her. It dribbled down between the cheeks of her ass and stained the sand. But still those muscles clenched and milked him, growing faster and more erratic until; through the haze of pain and foreign chemicals, she orgasmed whilst sobbing.

He laid in her for an eternity, until the Fire of the Achera wore off, until the wounds clotted and glued shut around the barbs that held her ruined sex open. Occasionally he would growl and a thick splash of fertile semen would pool within her. It sprayed directly in to her womb through a torn and gaping cervix. But still he laid in her and she wondered if he was trying to prove something by it, prove his "manhood". Longer mating periods had become a fashionable thing in the pack after a few months, but this was unreasonable.

As the sun rose above her head she watched it and panted helplessly. He had just released another torrent, and the potent chemicals washed her helpless form in another wave of painful spasms. Muscles were cramped and almost every inch of her was sore and buzzing from over-stimulation. "Please.." she begged quietly, looking up at her rapist. She was so weak, blood loss, exertion, emotional trauma.

He gazed back down at her with intelligent, nigh sentient eyes and mocked her plight. Instead of pulling out he compounded the humiliation with a rush of urine; poured straight in to her womb. For a moment she didn't recognize the itching--burning sensation but then her face flushed with shame as the chemical cocktail washed up her bloodstream. A combination of revulsion, humiliation and lust hit her mind... so horrible the thought of his filth within her but the chemicals did their job well. Again she crested her peak as fresh tears ran down her cheek and a tiny piece of herself turned inward in hatred and disgust.

It was past noon when she was finally left alone. He was the first but once she had been delegated to the bottom; she was fair game for any of the pack refuse. None had taken more than a few minutes with her helpless, immobile form, but by the time they had lost interest in her she was unconscious. Pain, chemical stress, emotional stress, drained neurotransmitters, and physical damage. It all added up until her mind just went away.

The next morning she finally came aware enough to clean herself and treat her wounds. The pack was still there, but ignoring her. Quietly to herself she cried and curled in to a ball, not far from where her ordeal had taken place. She meant nothing to them now, she was nothing. But, she thought to herself I am not meat, I am just the bottom of the rank. For a moment she thought about fighting her way to the top again, some perverse part of her feeling cheated of her position. She belonged here, this was her family, her home. Then sanity came back and a sense of relief flooded her. She was not meru, she... no, I am Djheni. He said to himself, angrily. He was Djheni, and he could now go home.

He stood up, trembling, and started walking away in a daze. His sash was torn and stained with filth so he tied the torn part and stumbled on. Behind him, a few of the pack looked up at him then away again. Not even his bloody shadow paid more than a glance. For that moment he felt betrayed and heart broken. He loved the alien beast, and it didn't want him, it didn't care.

One however did care, one trailed after him. The pack disappeared beyond a dune, then another, but one spec in the distance followed. When Del noticed he stopped and waited. "Who is my shadow now?" He asked of the universe, then added, "I wonder if talking to oneself is a sign of insanity?" He laughed until that laughter devolved in to sobs. Once more he fell to the sand and curled up around his core. The damage in his belly hurt and would hurt for weeks to come he was sure.

At last he recognized that spec as his son. He was moving as quickly as his short legs could take him. When he arrived, Del enveloped him in his arms and cried in to his scaled shoulder. He went up on two legs and folded his fore arms around him in turn. The contact then blossomed, he felt love wash over him. His loneliness and sorrow vanished in that warmth.

Together they laid, clutching one another, absorbing each other's emotions. He was so young, he did not understand those dark thoughts, but Del suffered so the child tried to heal. At last he sighed and pulled away, looking down at the boy, "Let's go home." He told him, then stood, slowly, body trembling.

Del opened his book and found the proper page for the Ahn'daletu. The words made sense now, the theory made sense, and he had theories of his own to apply. For the rest of the night he worked, prepared, channeled, and chanted. By the crack of dawn the universe split open at his will, and he stepped through with his son, claw in claw. A moment later, before them the walls of Emorre stood--strong and tall. Behind him the trembling gate collapsed with a crackling screech of energy.

His son looked a little spooked and very confused, mouth agape, standing on two legs. The gate had been confusing enough, but to step through and find yourself in a new place... It reminded him of his own childhood, "Welcome home..." He stopped and looked down at the child, "You need a name."

The boy looked up and nodded solemnly. For a moment he thought, then smiled, "Your mother, I called shadow but of course never claimed the name. You will be shadow now." Again he nodded then looked forward to the city. Together they walked, and he stayed on two legs, careful to appear relatively "Djheni". Some how he knew he had to appear to fit in.

Del walked proudly, trying to hide his pain and weakness. Once again his life had been uprooted, changed so drastically it was barely familiar. I am becoming an old hand at this sort of thing he thought. Never a stable footing, some day I will have to settle down. This early, the streets were mostly empty with only a few folks sweeping or cooking before the morning breakfast rush. He stopped at a food stall and purchased a couple meat pastries, one for shadow and one for himself. Cooked food was a novelty Shadow wasn't entirely sure he liked, but the boy was hungry so he ate, all the while expressing his displeasure to Del's mind.

The citadel rose before them as they walked along the central avenue. The bored looking guard blocked their way as he drew close, eying his disheveled appearance. Then noticed the metal threads woven in to his stained and tattered sash. Then blinked and took him in more thoroughly, "Del Re'o Achera!" He exclaimed and saluted.

Del smiled, hearing his words, "Well, I suppose my appearance isn't entirely forgotten. The scales, that's what gave it away wasn't it."

He nodded sheepishly and stepped aside, "I will send to the general, please take yourself to hall..." He paused and looked down at the child, "Who... what..." He started and stumbled.

"My son." Was all he said and smiled down at Shadow.

The guard closed his mouth and blinked a few times, then called to a messenger who then darted off to get Knaira. Del passed through the gates and in to the court. It was familiar, the scent, the hint of moisture, the ruddy morning light on the stone walls. It was home.

The hall was empty when he entered it, so he took a seat to one side and awaited his father. It wasn't a long wait and Knaira wasn't entirely dressed for public, missing his sash and most of his jewels, "Delilah!" He exclaimed and rushed forward, dragging him up in to a strong embrace.

Del winced in pain as he was squeezed about the middle, but hugged the elder in return, "Father..." He started.

"And who is this?" He interrupted as he set Del back on his feet then looked to shadow, "My son, Shadow. His mother was the black and red Achera."

There was a queer silence as he glanced between the two of them, "Always something new with you isn't there, Delilah."

He shrugged sheepishly, "I finally was able to free myself of the pack and returned immediately. He followed me when I left."

Knaira shifted foot then made his way to the bench and sat down, "You two will have to join me for breakfast and tell me about your journey. I sent three scouts after you six months back, but they could find no trace of your pack."

Del nodded, "I lead them deep in to the southwest desert, at least four months march. I gated home after..." He trailed off then added, "My parting was unpleasant, to say the least."

Knaira reached up and took Del's hand and squeezed it gently, "It's good to see you again, you left on such miserable terms. I apologize for it." A frown crossed his face, eyeridges clicking together, "The reason I sent scout's after you. We were raided six months ago. The harem was unbreached, but a few of the outlying apartments were. Oren and Rachel..."

Del took a step back bringing hands to his face, "No..."

"Omolaud was out delivering a child at the time in the harem, else..." He trailed off again and sighed, "She blames herself for not being there to protect them."

"Where... where are the bodies..." Del asked, trembling, trying not to break down again so soon after his previous ordeal.

Knaira's eyeridges shot up, "No, you misunderstand. It was a raid. They were taken not killed."

Relief, then anger flooded Del, "Where?"

"Jurmero." He replied.

"I want them back." Del said, ice in his voice, eyes turning away from Knaira toward the front door.

"We will plan a raid after the winter. We are busy harvesting now." Knaira added.

Shadow glanced between them both, ignored, but sensing the potent emotional turmoil. He stood up and wrapped his arms around Del's leg, pressing his scaled face in to the smooth skin. Del relaxed then, partially due to his mental contact, partially due to his physical presence. His hand laid to the boy's crown and he held him, "I'm sorry Shadow. I think... I think I need to rest." He said quietly and glanced to his Father.

Knaira nodded and waved him off, "I will send a meru to your apartment to look after you."

Del started to protest, then shrugged and nodded, "Yes Father. As for Shadow here... I am going to keep him with me today, but tonight I would like him placed in the harem to learn. As you did not know my place, I do not know his, but I hope we will learn."

Knaira gazed down at the boy, frowning a little as he did, "He is more Achera than Djheni. How old is he?"

"Only but a few months. He is too Djheni to fit in with the Achera though so he followed me. Else I would have left him with his mother." Del replied.

"Very well." Knaira said quietly and stood, "I suppose I should make myself presentable, I have harvesters to talk to and organize for today's work."

-

Del awoke late that night, a small Djheni meru curled up at his side. She was not what Del wanted, but she had satisfied well enough. He slid out of bed and stood up, feeling the stiffness ease a little. Still the pain nagged at his belly, sex had been uncomfortable, so he had allowed the meru to do most of the work.

The same house, the same furniture, the same books; all was familiar yet also alien after the months on his own. Del draped herself across a bench on the balcony and gazed out at the early morning darkness. A haze just started to glow over the wall as he sat and sun reflected off the spire above. So many times before he had woken before dawn, just like this and Oren would come to him. But now... But now he was alone. It struck him as strange how he had come to love Oren. With Rachel it was a burning passion yet with Oren it was a slow simmer. Oren had always been there, just a presence, patient, kind, and joyful.

With tears on his face, he watched the sun rise and let the hour pass. Del trembled in his sorrow and longing, some times crying, some times staring blankly. At last when the strange meru woke, she found him on the balcony and attempted to engage, "May I please you my Djheni?" She asked, kneeling before Del and laying her cheek to an inner thigh.

Del glanced down, eyes dry now, but he felt dead inside. This meru didn't care about him, didn't know him. There was a sudden disgust for the pathetic creature but it passed quickly and Del felt even more ashamed for his thoughts, "Do you take the fire, meru?" He asked, gazing down in to the girl's eyes. She was young he realized, probably no more than a year or two older than himself at most.

"No Djheni. I have no need for it, pleasing Djheni brings me such joy." She replied, pride in her voice. As she spoke a small--well manicured claw came up and teased a single claw tip around Del's sheath slit, then dipped inside.

He inhaled sharply, then reached down and and took the meru's hand, "Draw me a bath please. I still have dust in places best not mentioning."

The meru pouted up at him, then nodded and left. Again Del sat in silence, every so often hearing a splash of a bucket as his great tub was filled. At last the girl came out to him and whispered, "Your water is ready, my Djheni. May I wash you?" to this he nodded and rose, groaning, to his feet.

The bath was warm and luxurious after the arduous months. The meru slipped in behind him in the bath and began to massage and caress every inch of him. Kinks worked loose, tension he hadn't known vanished until he had passed out again from relaxation. Some time in the middle of it, the meru had straddled Del's waist and coaxed his flaccid spire out and in to her sweet welcoming vulva. Del came out of a light doze with a sudden and unexpected moan as a gentle orgasm radiated from his belly and in to her. He looked up at the girl as she rode, his mouth agape as her sweet channel drank the semen from him with great muscular swallows.

Del enjoyed it for what it was; Simple bestial pleasure. Pleasure it was none the less, and he reached up to draw the meru down, laying his head to her chest, "I thank you for the gift of your body, sweet meru, but my heart aches for another."

Her fingers tangled in Del's wet hair and pressed his head between those soft breasts, "Shh my Djheni, I know--I feel your sorrow. Surrender to me your anger, your pain, your suffering and your struggle. Lay them at my feet Djheni and release it in to me, let me be--if only for a moment--your comfort. Hide in me."

"What is your name?" Del asked of the meru.

"Nha'la, my Djheni. Now shh--yield." She whispered in to Del's ear and pressed herself to him, inch by inch.

"I remember you..." He whispered but Nha'la's words were like balm upon Del's sores. He surrendered himself to the will of the meru, drifting in pleasure and ignoring his pain. For hours there were gentle touches and soft pleasure. Food came and they ate and then as if still starving she drained Del down her throat and quietly begged for more. When the day was over he lay there; exhausted, rested, and almost happy. For that night the meru laid with him, a soft comforting warmth at his side as she slept. Come morning Nha'la was gone but Del was much improved.

I look back now, remembering all the sorrow during those years. Some times I wish I could go back and change it. But then I remember what it made me, what I became because of it, through it. The sacrifice was worth it. At least, that is what I keep telling myself.

-5-

And Death

"I want to fight, now!" Del yelled, a grimace on his face, "I don't want to wait for the season to end. I cannot let Rachel be in there any longer than she already has."

"Del." Knaira said, sternly, "She has been there 6 months, she will survive another 3, of that I am certain."

Omolaud sat off to one side, brooding. She too wanted to go, it was true she was no Djheni now, she was an old meru, a matron. But once she was a Djheni and she was ready to take up that mantle again. Del struggled though, he was worried it would be too late already but said no more on the subject.

After dinner, Omolaud and Del walked through the keep to the harem and dropped off Shadow. He didn't want to let go of Del, but after a moment of contact he released and turned to the arms of one of the meru tending to him. He had expressed as best he could his love for the boy, but he was not sure he would see Shadow for a long while. With that, Del turned and left. Out on the terrace Omolaud glanced to Del and mentioned, "He is far stranger than you are admitting, Del."

Del muttered quietly, "Yes, yes he is."

"How?" Omolaud prompted. Del said nothing so she added, "He just changed his mind after staring at you for only a moment. He stopped fussing and turned away happy."

Del growled quietly and snapped, "Must you turn over every stone Omolaud?"

The old Matron grinned and said shortly, "Yes."

"He can touch my thoughts when he wants to... or maybe more aptly my emotions." Del replied, scowling.

"Interesting..." Omolaud started, then shifted gears, "We are going anyway, aren't we."

"..." Del stared for a long long moment, then nodded and turned back to the street. He made a quick line for the apartment door, "Are you coming?" He asked at last of Omolaud.

"Of course... but you do realize this will drive a wedge between you and Knaira. It will be a long, long time before he forgives you." There was concern in Omolaud's face and Del felt as if standing upon the edge of a cliff, teetering.

"I know..." Del whispered as she stepped in to her room.

"Know what?" Asked Deurak, who was sprawled out on a bench, drinking from a horn.

Del stopped in her tracks and looked down at him, "I'm leaving."

"Oh? Where are you going at this hour Del?" He asked, smiling with a drunken gloss in his eyes.

Omolaud smacked the Djheni in the back of the head and tugged a book out from under him, "You lout, you broke the spine."

He flinched and spilled a few drops of wine, "Ouch... you old witch leave my poor head alone. Now where is it you are off to at this hour?"

Del looked at Omolaud who just looked back. He then glanced back to Deurak and said quietly, "I'm going to get Oren and Rachel."

He sputtered and flailed, trying to sit up, "You're what?! Now? Who else is going with you? I can hardly believe Knaira agreed to that during harvest season!" There was a long silence before Deurak added, "He didn't agree."

Del shook his head, "No, Omolaud and I are going."

His jaw fell open and he stared, just stared for a long minute, then said quietly, "You're insane, it's suicide. You would need at least five hundred to attempt a raid on Jurmero."

"I am hoping to be a bit stealthier, they shouldn't know we were there until we have left." Del prompted hopefully.

"Maybe." He said--quietly, then added "I'll be with you as well, you need another sword to watch your back. No offense Omolaud but you are no warrior."

At that the old matron laughed, "Little do you know pup, but I'd say you are welcome."

"Fine." Deurak muttered and climbed his lazy bones to his feet, "Do you have a more complex plan than 'be sneaky'?" He prompted, scowling.

Del paused a moment, thinking, then glanced to Omolaud, "I've never been to the city, I don't know the layout. But I suppose we should explore the city disguised as travelers and find out where they are being kept." He said thoughtfully, then added, "And... I need a branch." Both of them gave Del a queer look at that then shrugged at one another.

-

It was midnight--and by the pale light of the stars Del found his way to his other half. Omolaud and Deurak followed, but couldn't see the tree and thus had no idea what he was up to. At last he stopped, laid his ridged forehead against the smooth powdery birch bark and whispered, "Good morning." He said and felt a stirring in response.

Some how the great tree knew what Del had come for, a small token, a sacrifice of itself. At last to the others he said, "The farther from this spot I travel, the weaker my will. But if I carry a piece with me, for a time I am strong. But once the peace wears thin and burns to ash so does my strength." He looked up the straight cream colored trunk then back to Omolaud, "I had never tasted it so strongly as when I went with the Achera."

"A piece of what?" Deurak asked, looking around. All he could see was sand and blood sapper trees.

"He hides." Del said, with a cryptic smile, "It's okay, they are friends, they won't hurt you." He continued, turning to look up at his other half.

Omolaud took a step back as a great tree seemed to shimmer in to view, hazy and unreal at first. When it solidified she could see a huge birch tree, half the height of the bluff and close to a yard and a half across at the trunk, "What..." she sputtered, then just shook her head. Deurak on the other hand had fallen to the sand, staring up with jaw slack and eyes wide.

"Trum'ran created this when he drew the curse from my womb... For ten years he lived within me, hungering, protecting, and... And making my life difficult." Del said, leaning his back to the smooth trunk, "I can feel him like you might feel a limb or a finger. Even when I am far away. But only when we touch like this do I feel whole."

"How many stones do you have left for me to turn Del?" Omolaud asked, then glanced up at the great tree. To her it looked like a skeleton clawing at the sky. Pale powder white fingers with tufts of green at their tips.

"A few perhaps, but this is my greatest secret." He replied then started to climb, careful not to damage the bark too badly. At the third fork up he found the place where he had come to after Trum'ran's sacrifice. There he laid a sweet kiss to the smooth curved branch where the tree had grown from his body.

Further he climbed then, outward now toward the smaller branches. At last he found one that fit his hand and was no longer than he was tall. On that he laid his hand and whispered to the tree, "Please, may I claim this piece of you to protect the ones I love?" The tree shook slightly and Del watched the energy gathering about its trunk. Invisible to the Djheni below, but beautiful rivers of murky light to him. Bit by bit the base of the branch grew inward until it simply snapped off in his hand. The smaller twigs and branches along its length had drawn inward, leaving only a tough crown of leaves at the very top.

With his totem in hand Del slid down, then dropped to the desert once more. At the base he laid a kiss to the smooth bark and pressed his forehead against for a long quiet moment. Then when he withdrew the tree had hidden again, "I'm ready to go." He told them and looked north toward the rocky and bluff strewn badlands.

Deurak stood again, but still said nothing, just eying where the tree had been. He took a step toward it with a hand reaching out but no matter what he couldn't reach in the right direction. Del smiled and said quietly, "Obfuscation is an interesting art, isn't it? I hope to learn how he does it some day."

Omolaud again shook her head in disbelief, then laughed, "This is a magic unknown to Djheni. Perhaps it is a human magic? Del, when you were a child do you recall many mages?"

"No, I do not believe the humans learned to use it. I assume they learned the chant and looked no farther." He replied, then started walking with a three fold thump of foot and staff.

-

The city of Jurmero, typical of Djheni cities. Its primary output was food for many city states and sulfur, which was used to harden copper tools as well as in apothecaries for many ailments. Once it had been located in the caldera of a massive volcano, but stone by stone the igneous rocks were taken down and laid to rest in buildings and walls. Now it sat upon a cliff of black rock overlooking farm fields. In truth this was the first time Del had seen farms since leaving earth. They were not like any he had known then either, instead they were flooded twice a month and allowed to bloom as the desert did under a rain.

All of them were sore and tired from their two week march. They had to go on foot, for a gate would have been detected immediately by the local chantry and investigated. Though Del had hiked in to the deep desert many times, this was the first time he had come in contact with another bastion of civilization.

Omolaud on the other hand was simply joyful to be at last free of her duties as a Matron. It had been over a thousand years since she'd gone beyond the walls of Emorre. She was liberated in a way Del had never seen before, she seemed younger, stronger, prouder. No longer did her joints pop and creek, her flesh filled out, looking less wrinkled and saggy. In fact she was becoming beautiful, when at last Del confronted her on it, she laughed and said, "Being a meru is hard work and does the body no favors. In my day the meru under me worked hard along side the Djheni. Knaira a few centuries back got it in his head that they should be kept locked away. An unused body quickly wastes away." As if in emphasis Omolaud stretched and took off sprinting for the gates of Jurmero. Both Del and Deurak had trouble keeping up.

"So..." Deurak panted as they ran, "So much for my assessment. Who... Who knew she was so quick!"

The gate was wide open as any great city's aught to be. They slowed down to a leisurely stroll long before coming in range of the guards. They were paid no heed by any of the guards, nor the Djheni passing by. The gate opened on a small walled in bazaar which then lead up to the sheer rock face of the city proper, "The only way in to the city, is by crane." Deurak mentioned, pointing to a platform, half way up the cliff face, "They charge, but not much, just enough to pay the haulers and keep them drunk at night."

Del swallowed sharply as he looked up. It had seemed like any bluff from the road, but up close he realized it was close to a thousand feet of sheer basalt. Omolaud said, just loud enough for them to hear, "It took them ten thousand years to carve out. It is a beautiful city--as long as you do not fear for height."

Del shook his head and grinned at his companions, then started forward. The plan was to find a place to sleep the night, and spend a few days listening. Alehouses were the best places to listen, boasting war bands bragging about recent captures and fights. Disguise was the hardest part, no one stood out more than Del, with his golden hair and blue eyes. With tears he had chopped off his braids and kept only a small bundle of it tied back. He wore a hooded cloak to cover it, but a stray braid flopping out at a wrong time could have spelled trouble.

At the inner gate, they waited patiently for the elevator to return. A half dozen others waited with them, with carts loaded full. Before they boarded the entirety of a warband arrived and paid their toll, taking up a good half of the platform. It was tight and Del kept toward the middle, sandwiched between Omolaud and Deurak.

It was slow, it was nerve wracking, and it was uncomfortable. Each movement upward was a jerk as two dozen Djheni above hauled on the great clinking chains. Even from the middle, enclosed in near a hundred Djheni and beasts, Del could sense the magic clinging to those massive iron links. When he at last arrived topside, it was with wide eyed wonder. Black fingers reached up toward the heaven from corners along walls twice to three times the height of Emorre's. Then inside of it was the war citadel, a black hunched hexagon designed more like a prison than a castle.

Abruptly the sight was obscured as they stepped in to the city. Even the buildings here were larger, all made of worn black stone. The road itself curved off to the right, suggesting a great spiral before it reached the Citadel at the center of the city. On they marched, listening to the rush and flow, holding their nose at the stench of open sewers, and trying not to be run over by careless cart drivers.

On one corner they heard a call, and the warband turned away toward it, "Most delectable meru whores in all of Kuir, catering to all tastes, even a rare human!" At that Del stopped and looked up. He could see the Djheni speaking, standing on a balcony overlooking the street corner. The building bore a sign, 'The Drowned Fire'.

"You don't suppose..." He prompted, glancing to Deurak then Omolaud.

"From time to time other humans do reach across the void and get captured. Though usually held for the nobility. No common Djheni would generally ever have a taste of human softness." There was a strange allure in Omolaud's voice as--he said it. It was then Del knew, Omolaud would never return to the life of a meru.

-

The Drowned Fire was well maintained, well run, and sweet smelling. There was a strange library air to the place with walls covered in fine fabrics to dampen sound. The Djheni at the front was all welcoming smiles and inquisitive eyes. He noticed Del's oddness almost immediately, but said nothing.

Deurak did the talking, having frequented places not unlike this before, "Three nights, perhaps four. One room for my sword brother, his meru, and myself."

"Certainly certainly... And what may I ask is your business in our glorious city?" The majordomo asked, peering from one to the next and the next.

Deurak bristled at this, but smiled and offered quietly, "My business is my own, but if you must know I seek some one."

The Djheni behind the desk had the courtesy to blush but fooled no one, "Of course, how impolite of me. And would you care to sample our softer selection while you are staying with us?"

Deurak glanced to Del, then back and nodded, "Indeed, though at the moment I long for a meal and a bed for the road has been quite long."

"And you my lord?" The majordomo asked of Del with a sly smile.

"I heard from the street... You have a human?" He prompted, glancing up.

The Djheni's face lit up with a smile, "Yes! Acquired not long ago, a gift from the general himself. She is matronly and of no use to his brood, but still quite stunning and wanton I must say!"

Del's heart raced and his breath caught behind his teeth. For a moment he was silent, then said, "I would very much enjoy an encounter with this human."

The smile fell from the majordomo's face and he made a soft 'tsk' sound, "I'm afraid she will not be free until late tonight. The group who came before you paid for the evening with her and three dozen of my other beauties. Though if you like I will send another to you in the mean time? One such as yourself traveling with only a single meru to please him! Why it would be a disgrace for you to lie in my hall with less than ten to serve you!"

It was then Del looked down and noticed his silver and copper woven sash barely visible behind the edge of his cloak. He cursed himself silently for not stowing it away and wearing something plainer. But he of course had never considered himself nobility, "You are too charitable, I am but a tenth son of a low house. My wealth comes from lowborn work, I am a smith you see."

The light faded a little from the Djheni's face, but still he pushed, "But you will take one of my beauties to your bed for the evening, will you not? Perhaps a young one, yours there looks near matronly, you need something spry. Trust me!"

For a moment Del was amused, recalling Omolaud sprinting earlier and he muttered softly, "Oh you would be surprised..."

"What was that my lord?" He asked.

Del shook his head and smiled back to the Djheni, "Nothing, nothing. No I think I will be quite content to wait until your human is free. At the moment I can think of nothing as interesting nor enticing."

"Of course you are right my lord..." The majordomo sighed, then requested a sum well in excess of what Del had wanted to part with. He paid it grudgingly and hoped against hope that it was Rachel, "Now, allow my staff to show you to your room. When you are ready to eat, just come down to the guest hall and make your request."

Alone in their room, Del laid himself to a bench and gazed across to the others, "Well..."

Deurak just shook his head and sat down, brooding. Omolaud on the other hand made his way to Del and knelt, starting to undo the straps on his cured leather armor. Del's hand came down on his and he said quietly, "How long are you going to pretend you are returning as a meru?"

At that Deurak's head jerked up and Omolaud's hand stilled, "That easy to read? I suppose I too have a stone or two left unturned."

Silence followed for a moment and Del prompted, "You could have left any time you wanted over the centuries. You didn't, why now?"

Omolaud started again undoing Del's armor, exposing the black scales of his body. At first he said nothing, just massaged the sore points where the armor pressed, but at last looked up, "I could have left, but it would have dishonored myself. I belonged to Knaira after his father died, I raised the boy to Djheni as I raised you. When he gave me to your household it was because he trusted me and because he didn't want the burden of you."

He stopped and looked down at his hands, turning them back and forth. Del prompted him, reaching out again to take one of those hands, "And why now?"

"Perhaps..." He started, then smiled, "Perhaps I had forgotten a life outside. Perhaps I enjoyed my retirement. Perhaps I was once tired of ruling, tired of fighting, tired of fear. Soon you will no longer need me and as I am barren you will have no use for me otherwise. Knaira's father won me in combat and I vowed myself to him. Not to Knaira, not to you; that vow died with Emorre."

Del glanced up, noticing Deurak's agitation. He was pointedly trying to look in any direction but towards the two of them, "Deurak, would you like to go down and eat?" Del asked, kindly. Deurak just stood and marched out the door as quickly as he could without looking like a scared mouse.

"He is still beholden to Knaira. Truly he should not have come with us but it was his vow to honor or not." Omolaud added after the footsteps had faded.

"When I have Rachel and Oren back..." Del started to say, then stopped and shut his eyes against tears, "When I have them back, I want you to go and find purpose again."

Omolaud leaned in then, and pressed his lips to Del's. It was a hard kiss, closed mouth and closed eyes. Del was startled at first, not once in his 15 years had Omolaud shown the least bit of affection. Something in him said though, Omolaud still wanted one more night as a meru, one night to remember. So Del reached up and cupped the back of her neck and pulled her down, in to the kiss and against his naked scaled body. She came willingly at his touch and straddled his lap, parting her thighs across him to press the warmth between to his sheath slit.

Her fingers were gentle in contrast to the fierceness in which she kissed. They delved in to the pocket of his sheath and stroked teasingly along the head of his maleness, aggressively seeking his lust. When his tongue reached out to her though that fierceness shattered and she opened like a tulip to a bee. Del counted her teeth with the tip of his tongue then claimed her mouth with a cant to his head. He drew her tongue in to his muzzle and suckled, feeling her squirm in his arms as a fire within roared to awakening.

Del's spire emerged, helplessly at the meru's touch, like a snake being drawn from a basket by a charmer's song. He groaned hotly in to Omolaud's mouth and released her tongue. She in turn broke away and pressed soft kisses to the side of his throat then bit as her fist curled around the emerged shaft. She fed it into herself, the warmth of her heavenly upon him. His flat wide length flexed, ribs rising to catch and rub along her fore wall. At that she trembled like a leaf and came to an abrupt orgasmic peak.

"How long?" He asked breathlessly as those liquid depths tugged on him and her teeth scraped his scales.

Omolaud drew back and shivered, her eyes glassy as they tried to focus on his face, "I don't remember--but the Fire never leaves you." She whimpered helplessly suddenly and came again. This time he watched her naked body quake; her belly muscles trembled, breast heaved, and a small rivulet of arousal poured from between her parted nether-lips and down his erect shaft.

He bottomed out then, nearly his entire length engulfed in her tight heat. He reached for her, taking her cheeks in hand to frame her face. She was beautiful now in the throws of passion. His hands fell from face to throat, fingertips trailing along her sensitive skin, drawing little scratches. His hands reached her breasts and squeezed, feeling the heft of their curved tear drop shape. Her nipples dug in to his palms as hard as stones. She half yelped half sobbed as he did, a sharp emotional cry and he watched tears fall from her closed eyes.

Again he drew her in, and kissed at those closed eyes, tasting her salty tears upon his tongue. Her body heaved slightly, then again as quiet sobs shook her. But still her hips rocked, clutching his penis securely with her trembling depths. He didn't know what to make of it as she cried, just held her and lifted himself to the liquid pleasure of her body.

At last when her emotions ran dry, she whispered, "I'm sorry... I."

He hushed her with a kiss, hard as the one she had given him before. Then with a soft growl he rolled over, atop of her. His hands found her wrists and pinned them to the bench, his body laid heavy atop of her, and he stared down in to her dark eyes as he replied, "I will never tell a soul. For once in your life you needed some one to hold you, there is no shame in that."

In lieu of words, she leaned in to him and kissed again. Her legs reached up and enfolded his waist with feet hooking behind his back. Deep inside he could feel his tip crush against her cervix, hard enough to hurt. He gasped in to her mouth and she inhaled his breath as she struggled slightly against his restrictive grip. He gave her no leeway though as he began a slow heavy pounding, jamming the head of his penis in to her cervix with each thrust, bruising her, hurting her and at the same time making her tremble and buck wildly in to each.

Del allowed his eyes to focus on the otherworld and watched Omolaud's. Energy pooled in her womb as pulsating flashes with each trembling clench of her depths. It was beautiful to watch and heavenly to feel. He could too; feel the radiance of those pulses, waves of sexual energy washing over him like solar flares sliding over the magnetic field of a planet. It made him shiver with pleasure each time she touched him.

"I wish you could see..." He gasped, "How beautiful you are right now." And that energy flared in to a small nova, swelling from her womb and cascading up every nerve through her body then bouncing inward like ripples on a pond. Her voice reached his ears a moment later as a sweet wordless melody of pleasure.

When that wave of energy echoed back to her womb, he released. It was sudden, it was unexpected, and it was the most potent moment of his life. Even as he watched that energy poured in to him through their sexual connection and tangled with his own. Wispy strands of silver tugged at his belly, tangled around his penis, and caressed his nerve endings just as her muscles did. He spilled in to her, sobbing in pleasure, breathless.

The moment passed and Del's eyes found her again, corporeal, beautiful, and still writhing in bliss. He glanced up and saw her hand closed on his staff while the other was bunched in to a tight fist. For a moment he wondered if she had evoked the branch to do what she had just done with her aura... But likely even she didn't know what happened. When his lips touched her hot dry breast it broke the spell and she fell to the bench with a whimper.

A part of him wanted to cry out that he loved her, that he didn't want to let her go. That part was crushed under the reality that this was a singular moment in his life. So he said nothing, just laid his head to her breast and listened to the pulse of her blood, the rush of breath, and the sweet timid whimper she made as she fell back from her crest. At last he released her wrists. The staff fell from her grasp and she enfolded him in strong arms, clutching him tight enough to hurt.

For a long long time there was silence, just a shared intimate glow, "Thank you." She said at last, and relaxed letting her arms fall aside. He didn't retract from her though, he only looked up and smiled.

"I wonder, is the penis so high on Djheni, simply so that no matter what, when they are done they have to look up at the one they are with?" He asked, then kissed the side of her breast and bit in to the stiff flesh gently.

She inhaled sharply and arched herself in to him. Her belly clenched down hard, nearly wringing another drop of lust from his spent body, "Oh you devious boy." She whispered, then leaned down to kiss him between the horns, "You make me wish to stay meru--if only to surrender to that every day, until I die of pleasure."

"Boy, hmm?" He responded, and chuckled up at her, "Better than Girl I suppose."

She reached down and flicked a horn, then said, "Boy, I am at least two orders of magnitude older than you along with a multiplier or two on top of that." She told him, then took on an expression of mock anger, "That's it, I've changed my mind, your impertinence and disrespect for the elderly has turned my heart as cold as stone."

Del pressed his cheek to her breast and rubbed in to it, sighing as he did, "Mmm.. I don't know, your heart feels quite warm to me."

"Are you always this way afterwords?" She asked, raising an eyeridge, "I pity your meru for what they will put up with."

Still sheathed to the hilt in Omolaud's belly, Del throbbed just as Deurak threw the door open and ran in. He looked down at the two of them, a puddle of lust soaking the bench and drooling on to the floor. Obvious bite marks, bruises. Deurak stopped, grunted, kicked the door shut and couldn't look away.

"Was there something you needed Deurak?" Del asked, kindly, and slowly withdrew. A slight blush graced his cheeks as his penis slurped messily back in to his sheath, splattering Omolaud's stomach and his own in semen and her lust.

The slap of Del's shaft returning startled Deurak and he jerked back to attention, "Y--Yes. She is here, Rachel I mean."

Del stretched, sitting up on his knees as he did so. His scales clacked softly as they flicked then laid flat again. He couldn't control them yet, but occasionally they moved on their own, "Good. Then we just need to find Oren." He said.

"Del..." Deurak started, then looked away, "She's been blanked."

-

When Del saw Rachel again, there was dread in his heart. Deurak's words had left him in a spiral of rage and sorrow that took both Deurak and Omolaud to bring him out of far enough to be reasonable. The attendant who brought her, half dragged her in to the room, then tossed her to the floor. She had been freshly cleaned, her naked skin glistening wet in places, but he could still smell other men on her.

He sat at her side after the attendant had gone, and folded his fingers about hers. She grunted at the touch and her hips began to rock, grinding her own abused sex in to her foot. She was bruised, she had cuts, gouges, a black eye. There was nothing there, nothing familiar but the outline of her body. He crushed her to him, sobbing in to the side of her neck with his heart torn in two. His tears ran trails down her back and all she did was moan and buck against his thigh.

"She's been dosed very strongly as well..." Omolaud said, laying a hand to Del's back.

Del sobbed again, then pulled back, looking down at his beloved... his childhood friend, his meru, "They stole what was mine... they ruined her, and now they lay her at my feet as a mockery..." He hissed, then folded his hands around Rachel's throat and squeezed, "She never wanted this... It terrified her so much, losing herself to the poison they fed her."

Omolaud laid a hand on Del's wrist, pulling, "Don't..." She said softly.

Del didn't listen, just squeezed harder until he felt bones pop in her neck. Her body went wild before him, shuddering. But her face had no emotion, her eyes looked at nothing. Another pop then a sharp loud crack and her body went still. Her pulse stopped under his fingers, her struggling over... forever, "I'm so sorry Rachel... I never... I never wanted this."

In that moment the door banged then fell open, on the other side were two dozen soldiers. Swords in hand, a menacing look in their eyes. Del dropped what had once been the light of his life and stood, trembling to his core.

As one, he and Deurak closed on them, blocking the door way with their own blades drawn. There was silence for perhaps a second, deafening silence as the two watched. When noise came it was a clash of metal, a grunt, then a thump as a body hit the floor. Then another. Del danced while Deurak flew but the Djheni soldiers pressed on. Another pair littered the floor but Del was pressed back by two at once. Soon the room was full with deadly movement, then screams.

Flames leaped from soldier to soldier, startling some, killing others and turning the small room in to chaos. With the flames Del remembered himself, remembered what he could do. He screamed, all his rage, all his pain, all his will forced in to a single sundering. The floor below him cracked and fell a few inches, the door splintered before him, the wall behind him shattered, littering the road with bits of basalt and mangled corpses. The ceiling caved in, then billowed upward in a shower of rock,throwing half the corner of the building in to the street in the process.

In that instant after the storm of his anger; there was silence. Silence as deafening as before. Omolaud coughed and pushed a dead soldier out of her way. He found Deurak with one of the soldier's on top, three swords protruding from his stomach.

"Deurak..." Omolaud whispered, and he coughed in response with a splattering of blood.

Del rushed to his side and drew the strong warrior up in to his arms, "No... no... please." He whispered and brushed blood off Deurak's chin.

Deurak opened his mouth and sputtered, "Del... Get... Out..."

Del leaned down and kissed him, a sob welling up inside of him, "No... You're going to be fine, I'll open us a gate home and get you to a surgeon."

"Can't... Can't go back, you know that... I left my honor in Emorre for you. I love you Delilah." He whispered, then pushed Del back. Through tears he watched as Deurak grasped the hilt of one sword in his belly, and jerked up, sawing under his ribs. After a moment there was a gurgling sob as he found his own heart.

For a moment all Del could think was this is absurd, get up Deurak, stop playing around. It wasn't real, it couldn't be real. Omolaud struck him then, boxed him about the ears like a child and shoved the birch branch in to his slack hand.

"Do we go for Oren or do we run?" He asked with the sharpest voice Del had heard from the old matron yet.

"Oren?" Del asked, confused, then shook. With a moment's collection Del stood and looked to Omolaud, "No... We need to escape. Oren is young and strong, she can wait a while longer."

Out on the street there was a commotion as another group of soldiers marched toward them. Behind Del could see the robes of chantry, "Cavalry is here, we need to go."

They jumped down on to the rubble pile and started running toward the elevator. He shouted to Omolaud as they ran, "Did you ever wonder if you could fly?"

He shouted back with a grimace, "I have, was exhausting."

Ahead a line of chantry closed before the street, hands folded, heads up, eyes closed. Del could see the magic lashing through the air toward them even without focusing. He grabbed Omolaud and jerked him aside, the air splitting with a cascade of lightning half a second later.

They ducked down a side street and wove their way back to another spiral and cursed. Behind them was a line, before them was a line, "Let me draw them off, I've fought worse than these fools in my years. There are only a few of them and they are quick stepping around us. Two can play at that game." And before Del could respond, Omolaud had stopped, clasped his hands before his chest, and chanted fiercely while staring at his fingers. A moment later he lifted his foot as if to take a step, and was gone in a blur.

Del ducked behind a wagon and watched a half dozen blurs zip past, chasing where Omolaud had gone. A moment later there was a scream, then another and Del took off again, rushing toward the edge of town as fast as he could.

Del quickly learned however, that Omolaud had been wrong. The first inkling that something was off was a downy sensation, like wisps of spider webs drifting over his nerves. He recognized it immediately, the spell the death chanters had used on him as a child, to subdue his rampant magic. His eyes refocused and followed the traces of magic in the air, fields of it billowing out in different directions. He found the nearest one and let loose with as much unfocused fury as he could. The building collapsed before him but a blur at a window told him he had missed.

Again the wisps of suppressing magic began to gather. Each brush of it growing heavy upon his heart. With a snarl he brought his staff up and slammed it in to the ground, sending a pulse outward, but it did no good. So he ran, and he ran as fast as he could, trying to out distance the field that gauzed his mind. Each building seemed to contain a hidden source though and try as he might, he couldn't hit one of them.

Far off in the distance he heard great booms and cracks as spells echoed down the abandoned streets. Omolaud was no where near him, not close enough to help him. Silently Del cursed him for running off... He might, might know how to deal with this. Then he cursed himself for not studying more, for not pressuring the other death chanters in to teaching him their art.

As the fog in his mind grew heavier it felt like cotton in his ears, gauze on his skin, static behind his eyes. It was potent, so potent, but he could see the waves radiating towards him. Element after element, he tried to deflect the pulses, nothing blocked it, it even passed through solid stone as if it wasn't there. But at last he was free of the buildings, he could see the cliff ahead of him, so close.

So far, too far. Before him stood a row of soldiers in front of a row of chanters. And before them all was a single man, garbed in jewels and silk. At his feet knelt a pregnant meru who stared up at Del with tears in her eyes. For a moment he didn't recognize her, but then, "Delilah I presume? Looking for this?" Asked the general as he kicked Oren to the dust, a pathetic sob was wrenched from the meru's lips as she fell.

"Why..." Del started, but was interrupted.

"I never would have dreamed you would come all this way just for a couple of meru whores. I am delighted of course. When I heard of you... and saw you that day, dancing in the sand." His words were dreamy, "You have such grace and such interesting abilities."

Del clenched his jaw, remembering that strange mage over a year ago, shortly before his maturation, "You... did this... to get me?" He sputtered.

"Allow me to introduce myself, I am General Unhetetcia Re'o Jurmero." He said it in English, perfect British English, "Well I had intended to claim you that night when I acquired this creature." His foot nudged Oren, rolling her over on to her back. She hadn't moved, just laid there, where he put her, "But word had not yet come to me, informing me of your departure with the Achera. It was a pity, I lost a good number of soldiers on that raid."

Del reached in to himself, forgetting about the casters all around him, and thrust his staff forward, aimed directly at Unhetetcia. Nothing happened. Del felt a hollowness deep inside, a dread so complete that it blanked out the sun and all he saw was the General and Oren. A moment later a small sting began in the back of his sword hand, then another at the back of his neck. He glanced down and saw a little feathered dart protruding from his skin, "Wha..?"

"On your world there is a small tribe, and this tribe uses a very interesting poison. They developed it during the war you see. It steals the chantry from your lips. You are very powerful, yes, but without that power, what are you?" The General asked, a warm mocking smile on his face. He then stepped forward, casually.

Del raised his sword and growled, teeth showing. The general laughed and with a soft whisper, Del's sword cracked then shattered, "Unlike your father Knaira, I do have some small skill in the chantry." Then another word and Del's world went dark as consciousness slipped away.

I learned to hate at that moment. Before, I imagined I knew hate; with Trum'ran, with my mother, but no. Unhetetcia took everything from me that I loved. He stole Rachel, he stole Oren, through this he lead to the death of my one true friend Deurak... Poor Deurak, his love unrequited to the end. It brings me guilt even now.

However, the worst thing he stole from me, was me.

• 6 -

Home

Del awoke again at home, whimpering hungrily. There were no thoughts, there were no words, the bit between her teeth holding her tongue down would have prevented them anyway. She could not move either, the collar about her neck and the heavy shackles on her wrists and metal gloves made sure of that. She couldn't reach her magic, the poison that rotted her veins assured that. She couldn't think, the constant drip of Fire of the Achera that oozed from the bit in to her mouth kept her docile.

He was there again that morning, his stiff penis violating her as it did every day. He didn't talk to her, he didn't think of her. She didn't care, her body didn't care, in fact her body loved it every time he touched her, every time his seed splashed in to her, every time he used her and threw her away. Maybe, once or twice, some time in the middle of the night a tear would leak from her eye as she panted and tried to grind her leaking cunt in to the bench she was chained to. But that part of her was gone now, the part that loved, the part that laughed, the part that fought, and the part that dreamed.

His hands hurt as they crushed her breasts, pressing her back in to the bench. Her response was to orgasm, her own penis hanging out, spitting its semen all over herself. She drooled as her hips bucked up against him, her poor worn out vulva, stretched by his far too generous maleness. The initial rips and splits he had inflicted upon her, already healed in to soft clean scars that would be with her for life. He grunted, panted, then groaned a loud breathless groan, spit landing on her face as he did. She felt him then, his penis trembling as his semen pooled in her, like a toxic lake laying against her cervix. She smiled, panted, her eyes rolling back, and came again for him. As she did her cervix dipped forward and swallowed the disgusting seed.

She was fertilized already though, well and truly. Her belly jutted out over her gaping cunt, very gravid. It had been four months already, there was nothing left of her but this central service, her womb an incubator for the demon's spawn.

As he pulled out and wiped his slime across her thigh. It was his usual routine, come in, send Oren out, use her, leave her, then let Oren clean up the mess. He sighed and walked away leaving the door ajar. Quietly, like a mouse, Oren returned and knelt before Del, whispering, "Oh Del... you made a mess again." She said, then leaned over, starting to lick the spilled semen from her Djheni's stomach and chest.

Del only moaned and bucked at the air, helplessly in thrall to the Fire. Oren lapped up every drop of semen, sweat, and the few spots of blood left by their owner. Then she slid between her Djheni's thighs and started pleasuring with her mouth. The soft pliable phallus drooled a sticky stream, urethra still full of semen from her previous release. Oren drew at it like a straw, swallowing her loved one's gift. Then down she went, between those thighs and began to clean the mess their owner had left.

Del cried out and squirmed as her eyes whirled around the room. They never landed on Oren for long but when they did, the meru was sure something was left, some spark of awareness, "Oh my Djheni, shhh... I love you." She whispered, more for herself than for him.

Day after day it was the same, Oren woke to a kick, bruising her ribs and throwing her from the bench where she clutched to Del. She cried out quietly and limped on her hands and knees from the room. There she laid, her back to the wall, listening to their Owner rape her Djheni. She placed fingers over her ear slits and tucked her face between her knees, trying to block it out.

Soon as she felt Unhetetica pass she climbed back to her feet and rushed in. She sobbed at what she saw, blood running down from a deep gash in her beloved's thigh, "oh no no no no..." she muttered over and over as she sat down and tried to stop the bleeding. It was a claw mark, but deep enough to be serious. He must have been in a bad mood she thought while cleaning the blood from the bench.

For the rest of the day, she slowly pleasured her Djheni, the only thing she could do to bring herself comfort. Del's member, buried inside of her, thrusting so furiously. Oren sighed out in pleasure, imagining herself back home, out on the balcony on Del's lap. She imagined things back to normal, even Rachel there. She imagined that this was his pregnancy and it was his proud gaze upon it. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she felt Del's semen release in to her. The bestial grunts and moans so far removed from the reserved strength and poise her Djheni had once possessed.

-

Month after month their bellies swelled and she became quite gravid. When at last Oren gave birth, it was alone and in tears, only in the morning after did some one come to fetch the child while she slept. Never again did she see the child however, no matter how much she begged and pleaded.

Del though... Del's pregnancy worried her. It was so large, triplets maybe or even more. She had started rubbing hide balm in to the skin, keeping it soft and pliable... Twice the skin had cracked between Del's scales and it had taken weeks to heal. Also there were pressure sores from the cuffs, collar, and the constant bed rest she was chained to.

One morning, she begged Unhetetica, "Please... Can you unchain her? Shes going no where... Shes going to get sick." He glared at her as if an insect that dared bite and she slunk from the room to sob quietly against the wall.

However, later that day a guard arrived carrying ointment and the key for the chains. Del was released at last... but to Oren's dismay her Djheni wanted only to rape the guard. After that the door was locked and Oren tried her best to hold Del down to wash and treat her wounds. Only after Del had exhausted herself in to a deep slumber was Oren able to finish.

Another day, and another problem. Their owner was annoyed when he had to wrestle Del to the floor to breed her. He took it out on Oren. The expression of his anger left two teeth loose and what was likely a broken rib. For the next two days she was in far too much pain to get up, let alone tend to her love.

Another month past, at last he stopped coming. Del too far along in her pregnancy to take out his lust on without hurting her. Oren had lost track of the days, weeks, months... all that mattered was Del, the center of her world in this quiet corner of hell.

It was late in the day when Del started whimpering. This was a new sound, she had whimpered before sure, but this was like a kicked puppy. As Oren watched, Del's stomach rippled, muscles inside spasming. She rushed to the door and banged, then banged again and again. She banged until her arm hurt, until her fist was bruised.

That night she held Del, moaning in pain as the birth began. It would be hours yet she knew, there was nothing to do but wait. Some time before dawn however the door opened, just hanging there. Down the hallway she heard a scream then silence. The lanterns on either side of the door went out at once suddenly and darkness cloaked everything.

"Is he alright?" A voice asked from the darkness.

Oren began to cry, tears of joy, "I... I don't know Omolaud. They used some drug on him that suppressed his magic. Then they have been drip feeding him The Fire since he got here."

A hand laid to Oren's shoulder, strong, steady, and calm. She stilled and closed her eyes as Omolaud whispered, "We do not have long, can you lift him?"

"Yes but..." Oren paused, then trembled under Omolaud's tightening hand, "He started labor yesterday afternoon."

"Of all the..." Omolaud started, then snarled, "That Djheni has the worst timing of any boy I've ever met. And the worst plans, and the worst ailments."

The room lit up as he stepped in, the top of a staff of wood glowing brightly. He lit two lamps, without chanting and gazed down at the prone Djheni. Del was covered in sweat, eyes darting back and forth as he panted and moaned. Omolaud dropped to one knee at Del's side and tore off the bit with the feed of Fire of the Achera. He then laid a hand to his belly, feeling the contours of the child inside, "So big..." He muttered.

"It has to be at least triplets." Oren whispered and stood, fidgeting along side the old Djheni.

"No, this is only one it.." He started then stopped, eyes opening wider, "Just how much Achera did you drain Del?" He asked, then started to chant.

The spells he wove attempted to clear the fire from Del's veins. To a degree it worked, for the first time in nearly a year Del looked straight at some one. Then it was gone as pain rippled across Del's body. He cried out, then sobbed, reaching out to some one, anyone with a weak claw. Oren took it and clasped it to her breast, "Del, can you hear me?" She asked. His eyes locked on Oren's and his lips moved, but no words came out.

Omolaud Had moved down, below Del to inspect, "This is going to be a problematic birth. Oren, watch the door, warn me if anyone comes down the hallway." He snapped and set his staff down against the sleeping bench and got to work.

As the first crack of dawn touched the citadel, a cry was roused. Relief guards found their counterparts hours dead and cold. With the assumption that the intruders had come and left General Unhetetcia marched down the hall toward his precious prize's cell. It was too much, if they were gone skulls would splinter. He would track them to the ends of Kuir to get her back if he had to.

It was while that thought was rolling through his head that he stepped in to the room. At first he wasn't sure what to make of it. Obviously his property was still there, but another had joined them. Another he recognized, "Omo..." he hissed and raised a hand, beginning a chant.

Omolaud countered his chant quickly, defusing instead of overpowering. He stood, his hands covered in Del's blood, and pushed the General back toward the hall. Casting in the small room could kill them all. Not one to oblige such niceties, Unhetetcia side stepped in to the room, coming around so he was between Omolaud and Del.

There was a moment, a fraction of an instant when things came together. The first note in this rising crest of a symphony was Del's hand curling about the discarded birch wood staff. It was a fine piece of work, still living, with fresh bark... but also clad in copper and iron bands, woven and braided down its surface. The head, shimmering with light still was a clear sapphire, a focal point bound around that nexus of magical energy. Omolaud had of course learned to tap that will, just a little. The tree had learned to trust this Djheni mage. But that moment, when Del's hand touched it, everything tuned perfect, the world was clear again.

Del leaned forward on one arm, the staff in another--and thrust, butt end first. To Oren, it seemed comical but for the deadly battle going on around them. The stick poked in the General's back_maybe a distraction?_ She thought, but then it stayed there and the general gasped. That gasped turned in to a scream, that scream turned in to a hoarse cry.

Omolaud's first inkling of understanding was when a root, the pale white of bone, burst through Unhetetcia's chest and burrowed in again, downward. Another tore through his lower abdomen, sliding right out his sheath. Thinking quick, Omolaud snapped his blade out and removed the General's head in an instant while he still attempted that futile cry.

Over the next minute, all in the room watched as the general's body was consumed in a ball of rolling roots and vines. A leafy branch sprouted up through the severed neck, then fell back to punch through a shoulder. It was both gruesome and mesmerizing and when it was done, the staff was just a staff, each root retracted. All that was left was the head, hanging by a horn from Omolaud's fist.

Then pain struck Del, another heavy contraction and he screamed. Oren found his hand and squeezed it, pressing close to her love. Outside the doorway numerous footsteps rained down as soldiers rushed to their dead General's aid.

When the pain faded Del heard the footsteps, heard them coming for him, and sobbed, clasping the staff to his chest along with Oren. With a gasp he uttered his first words in months, "I want... to go home."

Omolaud turned just in time to see a blink, a blink so violent it sent the bench upward, embedding it in the ceiling. At first he thought it had taken Del and Oren with it... but there was no sign of them, not even a drop of Del's blood remained on the floor. More bewildered than worried he turned just in time to see the first soldier come in to view.

A grin split across the old Djheni's face. Of all the things that had transpired in the past two minutes, this was the one and only thing he understood, "My subjects, if you would be so kind, please fetch the nobles." With a chuckle he held forth the severed head of their previous General. The sight of who had once been enemies on their knees, pleased him.

-

Throwing oneself down a wormhole to go from one place to another was one thing. A troubling thing if you thought about it for long enough, but at least it made sense. A gap, you pass through the gap, you are now in somewhere else. This wrenching blip however was quite another story. One moment you are laying in a warm cozy (if prison like) bedroom, the next your insides are turned out, your head is backwards, and you are sure that stars shouldn't be falling on your face like that.

This is how Oren woke up, with stars falling in her eyes and mouth. At least, they glistened like stars in the strange silvery light. Once her eyes focused she realized it was rain, and that the silver light was coming from something in the ceiling. No, not a ceiling...

A moan interrupted Oren's scattered thought process, a familiar moan. It took her a moment to place a name to the sound, then jerked up with a start, "Del!" Sitting up now, the world looked very different. In fact, it looked so different she wasn't sure she could believe her eyes. The first thought was slimy, she had never imagined a place so slimy. Even the mud baths had a coarse roughness to them as mud oozed between your toes... but not here, no. Dead leaves, bits of living things, dead things, and piles of molding feces. The smell told her it was feces. How horrid! She thought and jumped to her feet.

The rain was a constant drizzle, not the heavy minute long downpours she was used to out in the desert. No, the rain just oozed from the sky like a bloody nose that wouldn't stop. Another moan dragged her attention back to... Earth! She realized and rushed toward the moans. She could see by the dim silvery light that peeked through the clouds, but it took her a while to locate her Djheni. He was lodged, ten feet up a birch tree, dangling with both arms pinned in the Y of branches.

Oren reached up and clasped a foot claw and pulled lightly. The tree moved, opening its grasp and letting Del slide quickly in to Oren's arms. Again he moaned as his head fell to her shoulder, and she clutched him close. They were in a forest, standing next to a flat field stone in a small clearing. The soil under her feet was muddy, sloshing more than supporting as she stumbled forward carrying Del. Some where ahead she glimpsed a light, amber like a lamp.

Over and over she lost that light just to find it again in a direction she never expected. The tree roots tripped her, the branches clawed at her, and the slimy mess of moldy leaves and dead things made her skin crawl. By the time she had cleared the forest, she was covered in mud and a soft barely audible yet continuous whine issued from her. She longed for her dry deserts with their clean sand and sparse vegetation. Everything so pure and clean.

By the time she reached the light she had convinced herself that the desert was just a myth and this was now how she would die; drowning standing up. Del had been quiet for the last few minutes, sleeping she hoped. The light source was a structure unlike Oren had ever seen. Thin walls made of plant matter and coated in tinted mud. It at least looked dry inside through a window.

She stumbled around to the front and found the door. When she pushed it didn't open, she pulled, it didn't open. With a bit more effort, the door frame cracked and swung inward, ripping the deadbolt free. She struggled inside and pushed the door shut behind her.

The entry had woken the house. Though the contents of the house was but a single woman, that women possessed a rather potent weapon. When the first shot rang out, Oren fell to the floor with Del, sobbing. She yelled out, begging for help... but whatever language the woman spoke, it wasn't one Oren knew.

Del though stirred, his eyes opening at the gunshot and then the English, "Where... where am I?" He started, then added, "Who are you? What are you doing in my house?"

-

Hours later Del lay in a bath, crying quietly in pain as another contraction hit. Oren knew he wasn't all there, there were words, but the words were disconnected from reality just by a fraction of a degree.

The human lay on the bathroom floor with hands tied behind her back, "My husband is a Marine! You hurt me, he will hunt you down." She vowed. Oren still understood not a word.

Del rolled his head over and let his eyes focus on the chattering human, "I remember... Maria... why are you crying? Why are you bleeding in the tub?" She paused, looked down at herself, blood filled the water, leaking from her sex, "No, isn't right... Maria was in the tub... I was under the tree."

Oren had no idea what her beloved was saying, the words though seemed to scare the human, so she assumed it was the same language. Softly she whispered to Del, "My Djheni, please focus... You're home, on earth and you are giving birth. I... I don't know what to do." Oren started to sob at that point, her head falling to Del's shoulder, "What do I do? Please Del, what do I do?"

The human shifted, sitting up against a wall and looked in to the tub, frowning, "Maria?" She asked.

Del shook his head and muttered, "No I'm Delilah, Maria is dead." Then after a short pause, "Why am I taking a bath?"

The woman's face went stark white at the words, "Delilah? But... I purchased this house with my husband, five years ago. No one wanted to buy it for years after..." She paused, then whispered, shivering, "The murders and kidnappings. They rocked the entire county. We got this place for a steal but only after moving in we learned about its history."

Del shuddered and cried out, his belly rippling and bearing down. It was now that the child would come, now, he had no choice in the matter and barely enough wits to know what was going on. Another clench and he pushed. His water had broken hours before while dangling from the tree. Now all that flowed out of him was blood and mucus. Something tore deep inside, then the child shifted and struggled. The struggling grew fiercer and fiercer, Del's belly rippled and bounced like a beach ball being punched from the inside.

He screamed and pushed again, this time the entire mass shifted and under the water her vulva gaped. Oren reached down and felt a hard rough mass pushing its way out of him. Another push and it slid further. It felt like stones or pebbles, glued to leather. It took her a moment to realize the species. Another wrenching push and a scream belted forth until Del went hoarse.

For ten minutes he pushed, panted, and sobbed. Oren just watched helplessly, holding the head of the baby as it emerged. It was huge, as big as a medium sized dog... and though Del was quite large, he wasn't that large. Then at last, with another painful push the shoulder tore free and the child slipped out in to the water, squirming.

Immediately the little boy crawled up Del's body his claws digging little furrows in Del's flesh. Then he latched on to a breast with his sharp teeth, they punctured flesh but instead of chewing, ripping, or such, he sucked, drawing a flow of fresh milk. There was, at least a portion of humanity or Djheni within him.

Oren heard a thump and looked over to find the human unconscious, "Well, at least we have another meru." She mumbled, then added, "Del... please come back to me soon. I don't know what do do without you here." She then spent the next few hours cleaning, mending, and soothing her unconscious Djheni.

End of Part 4