Jewel of Eden - Pt. 1 - Not a Happy Picture

Story by ChaosTigerX on SoFurry

, , , , , , , , ,


Not a Happy Picture (Pt.1)

Yan © ChaosTigerX

Shyla © ArianaMoon

He pulled back hard, hearing the bone crunch. The wolf screamed in agony as his shoulder was wrenched from its socket and his arm shattered. The tiger pulled again, this time throwing the wolf over his shoulder, smashing him into the ground. Yan brought his foot up and dropped it hard into the throat of the struggling fur, silencing his screams with another crunch.

The tiger brushed himself off. Several dead adversaries lay strewn around him, some with missing limbs and broken ligaments. He felt no pleasure from battle, but it brought relief from his stress. He hadn't even waited until the wolf finished his sentence before moving in for the attack. What had the fox said? He dropped down, and then he said something... Yan tried to remember.

"Give us the-!" This was followed by the cracking of his skull as Yan had brought his heel full force down upon the stupid fox's head, smashing it instantly. Yan had learned much in such a short amount of time.

But there was no pride in killing. No. He even felt guilty protecting himself. The lives of the imperial soldiers were forfeit the moment they came to fight him. Yan heaved a sigh. He would not be able to sleep well tonight. There may have well been twenty more soldiers in the woods. He jumped on his horse, which had lazily began to graze, even in the racket of battle, and rode off once again.

Such pitiful lives, Yan thought, to live under such a tyrant and not realize the injustice that plagues us all. Is a coin enough to turn a man from the path of righteousness? The "victims" of his immediate battle were still fresh in his mind.

He remembered the fox's head, smashed and bloody. The skull had shattered and dented inwards, damaging the brain permanently. The second one to try to attack him was a boar, its sword thrust had missed completely and Yan had let a knee come up so swift and fast, that the entire front end of the snout and skull smashed inwards. The tusks impaled in his own eyes, he fell down without a sound. The cockerel tried next with his scythe swinging with expert skill, but Yan was too quick. He ducked the first swing and hit several pressure points with the tips of his fingers on the cockerel, who fell down dead in a few moments, blood pouring from his nose, mouth, ears, and even from his eyes. The two larger cats decided to attack at once. The lion swung his large axe in a wide arc and the leopard tried stabbing with his spear, but Yan deftly bent backwards, narrowly missing both. He grabbed the spear and used the initial inertia to help push the spear farther, stabbing into the chest of the lion, piercing the thin leather armor. The leopard's eyes opened wide and he was too horrified to move, as Yan placed both hands behind on the ground and did a back flip. Both legs landed on either shoulder of the leopard and snapped together. They twisted hard and the leopard's neck snapped as he twirled and fell. The wolf tried fitting an arrow to his bow, but at the last second Yan had grabbed his arm and broken it.

There was no joy in killing, Yan thought grimly, but survival was key now. Someone had stolen the Jewel of the Sacred Gardens, the key to Eden. The prize that Yan had sought was now missing, possibly lost. No. He would not give up his search. Having been accused of thieving bread for the starving children of the abandoned orphanage, Yan had committed several acts of crime, which later amounted to having a bounty placed on his head. He was finally convicted of murder. Ten thousand gold pieces, as it was said, would be the prize for Yan's head on a silver platter for the tyrant lord. All the posters said he was an outlaw. What could he do? What could he have done?

The only weapon he carried with him was a sword, which seemed plain, straight and simple, but was fashioned by the best blacksmith in all the ages. It was a family heirloom that had brought good fortune to those to wield it for good purposes. So far, it had brought him nothing but bad luck. It was said the sword chose its owner, having been blessed by the wild ones of the Mamira Forests. In doing so, the sword formed a bond so strong; it offered its owner even more power.

Yan spent another good hour or so riding on, before feeling the first pangs of exhaustion. Slowing the horse down to a silent trot, he approached a clearing. A light fog covered the meadow. The flowers lay almost hidden in the mists, and a figure walked among them, picking at certain ones here and there. As Yan listened closely, he noticed she was singing.

"The earth be my mother

There isn't any other...

I sing to the spirits down below,

Among the roses, to and fro..."

Yan scoffed to himself. Just an old witch, he thought. He continued to watch, slightly fascinated by the ritual gathering. He watched until the light rain began, the light rain that would change his life forever.

As he watched, the "old" woman shed her cloak. The thick fabric fell away and she stood tall and proud. The basket of flowers fell softly into the grass along with the rest of her clothing. He was in awe now at the beauty before him. She was a vixen. Her fur colored deep orange, with the tips of her ears black and darkest of ebony foxgloves. Her long bushy tail swished behind her as the soft rain fell and soaked her. Her form was full and curvy. Her bust was turned away, but he saw the breasts were no smaller than small melons. She continued to sing, now prancing around the grassy area. She moved with such grace that he could not help but lean forward. His horse became restless and snorted.

"Who goes there???" She asked, hearing the sound, and looked straight into the eyes of the white tiger.

His bold white fur color struck out from the trees. His dark navy blue stripes called out to the weeping forest. His dark matted hair clung to his head from the damp rain, but his eyes. Oh his eyes, she thought. His eyes were full of wonder, full of secrets. She was curious, but only for a moment, as she noticed his hard-set jaw line, weathered from experience in business of the rough kind. She gathered her clothing quickly, turning to run, but stopping when he commanded a, "Halt!"

"What do you want from me?" She turned and held her ground.

He should have left. He should have known better, but Yan trotted his horse from the trees, halfway to her, and dismounted. He landed with a soft thump on the wet grass.

"You are a witch." He eyed her suspiciously.

"And you are a ruffian. By the looks of you, you haven't seen less than a few battles."

"What is that around your neck?" His eyes were drawn to the green jewel that cast light in the pale and gray fog.

"Not something of interest. Just glass." She clenched a fist over it, hiding it from his view.

"Of course it is." He moved several steps closer.

"Stay back." She threatened to run.

"Witch. You cannot outrun me."

"If you come any closer... I'll... I'll curse your arms off."

"Lucky for you, I'm already cursed." He motioned at the sword by his side.

He had closed the distance between them. She stood, unwavering from her position. He could see she was probably as old as he was. Her eyes were full of determination and fire. It was her eyes and the stone that caught him. Could it be...?

"A lone woman in the woods is not safe." He was so close that he could touch her if he wanted. He despised himself at the thought. She wasn't armed and probably scared.

"I can take care of myself." She spat.

"You're a witch. You're THE witch."

"What do you mean...?"

"You're the Witch of Silent Forest." He put a hand on his hip.

"I'm not a witch." She shouted at his ignorance.

"You have the Jewel of the Sacred Gardens. Why?"

"Wh... what are you talking about?" She faltered. He knew.

"How did it come to your possession?"

"Why should I tell you?"

"I asked you a question, witch."

"I'm not a witch!"

"Do not test my patience."

She took a step back, but for every step she took, he took at least a step and a half closer. Soon, he was right in front of her, his hands on her shoulders. For a moment, neither moved. He stared into her eyes. Those deep hazel eyes that began to change him. He looked on and on, but he could not bring himself to let go. She simply looked back, back at the leather-clad, mantel-wearing, wet-haired tiger. The well-kept tiger. He was knightly, but without the cleanliness of one. Like a knight fallen from honor. Who was he, she wondered, and where did he come from? What has the Earth Mother brought to her?

Her eyes were strong and searching. Her hair was shoulder-length and tousled. Her fur was clean with the warming rain. She was beautiful. He could not tear his eyes away, but why was the jewel with her? How did she come into possession of it? There were so many unanswered questions, but an ever-present need arose that he did not want revealed. She was female and he was male. The circumstances made things awkward.

She looked down at his chest, his shirt-covered abdomen, and then finally... She gasped. He was already aroused. She found things to be strange, but slightly erotic. To be taken by a stranger in the forest meadow she knew so well, would he be a willing mate? She pushed such silly girlish ideas out of her head as she looked back up at him. Oh Goddess, those eyes of his. They bore into her, as if searching her entire soul for what he wanted.

The gap between their muzzles closed as she leaned forwards. This is wrong, she thought, as they sucked on each other's lips lightly, tasting. She tasted of fresh strawberries, but he tasted of old leftover chicken. They pulled back and continued to stand, not saying a word. She turned and fled, the loss of support in front made him take a few steps forward to get his balance. A horse's whinny was heard in front, and the bark of hunting dogs was heard behind. The tyrant's soldiers were closing in again. He jumped onto his own horse and sped after the fleeing maiden.

"Run!" He shouted after her.

But she didn't need any warning, for her steed galloped with the wind. His horse was faster, and he caught up soon.

"This way!" He called and motioned towards the distant hill.

She questioned herself later why she followed him that day, why such a stranger could have changed her opinion for finding her own quiet home in the forest. The sounds of the chase vanished into the fog and the two horses trotted to a halt at an old ruined castle. Unknown to her, he had made this cursed fortress a home. He led her inside as they tied up the horses. Pushing a curtain away, the inside of a tarp-covered room was revealed. There were some foodstuffs around the room and a smoldering fire in the center of the room.

"Hungry?" He asked.

"No." She said as her stomach growled loudly.

Silence was all that was between them. The moment of passion in the meadow had passed as swiftly as it had arrived. Fire crackled in the center now, the flames danced, as if having a life of their own. They sat on stools opposite each other, divided another chicken between them and ate, drinking wine from the flask on the wall. It was some time later that Yan looked up to her and spoke.

"My name is Yan." He stated simply.

"The Wandering Outlaw? The thief? The killer?" She was bewildered.

"So my reputation reaches far..."

"Why have you brought me here? T-to kill me? To take my possessions?"

"Relax. I only kill out of necessity." He poked the fire.

"So I'm here for your entertainment." She decided. "I'll have you know that any man who tries to have me against my will have their penis shrivel up and fall off."

"Very believable." He chuckled.

"I am Shyla the Enchantress, and you, Sir Yan, are without fortune."

He seemed to wince when she said Sir. His old title bothered him deeply, as he was stripped of the title when he tried to help the children. It was impossible to turn back time, he knew, but if he could just get his hands on the Jewel.

"I need the Jewel." He growled.

She took a step back and held the emerald beneath her blouse. "You shall never have it. It was a gift to me from the River."

"Witch, I need it to overthrow the tyrant lord."

"Nay, it is mine." She stood defiantly.

"If you use it to help me, then I'll let you keep it."

"It's the only link to who I am. I can't let you have it."

"Then how about a proposition. I'll be your bodyguard. You can keep the jewel, but use it to help me when needed." He leaned forwards, putting his elbows on his knees.

"From a mere thief? An outlaw? A murderer?" She couldn't believe her ears.

"You have no choice but to accept. The king's men are scouring the forest below. They only leave this place alone because it is cursed." He took a swig from his flask.

"What fear have I when I have done nothing wrong? They'll leave me alone. It is you who they are after."

"Incorrect. You are witch, and you now possess the jewel they seek."

"I'm NOT a witch. How many times must I say this...?" She crossed her arms.

She sat with her legs crossed, the large animal fur shawl around her shoulders. A simple leather shirt and leather chaps were what she wore. Her expression was that of annoyance, rather than anger or fear. Her eyes wandered back to inspect him. He was still biting at the chicken he had, she had finished hers minutes ago. She had seen imperial riders in the forest, but they gave her no heed as she had slouched and covered herself whole with the fur mantle. An old woman she was seen as, and an old woman they passed. They must have been searching for someone or something else, for they did not stop to question her. What if they did? Would she still be here? The thought of being able to escape a fate as a witch in the lord's dungeon was comforting, but she was still wary of the tiger sitting in front of her.

"How long do you expect me to stay here?" She asked.

"At dawn, we'll ride to your home, grab whatever provisions you need, and return here."

"Here? To the cursed castle? There's nothing here to boast about. It's in ruins. How can you even begin to say that this is your home?"

"It's home enough in the cursed world we live in." He pulled another hunk of meat.

"If I don't agree?"

"Again, you have no choice."

She sighed. She had long expired the need to be watched over by another. This one was just irritating her now.

As the sun set, they made ready for bed. Their makeshift blankets and covers for the stone floor were laid opposite on either side of the dying fire. She had but one chance to escape now, and she was going to take it. The tiger lay down to sleep and, within minutes, breathed heavily. She waited another good while before she dared get up. Looking around she saw that he lay directly in front of the path to the door. Damn smartass, she thought. Searching again, she noticed a pane-less window behind her. Quietly as she could, she tucked her things into her fur cloak and pushed it through the window, following closely with herself. Her arms strained against both her weight and the weight of the bundle. Finally through, she dropped down to the soft earth.

"Gaia watch over me." She sent a prayer.

As her eyes adjusted to the moonlight, she made the realized she was on the opposite side to where the horses were tied. Taking care of her footing, she padded around the stone building. The trek seemed to take forever, eons passing with every step. As she rounded the corner, she spotted her steed.

"Ssh... It's me, dear one." She cooed as she approached her horse.

She quickly untied the reins and eased herself onto the saddle. As she spurred the horse back down the beaten path, a dark figure appeared before them, blocking the path.

"Out of the way!" She called out, kicking her horse's sides to speed up.

"Nay." The man called back.

Oh no, she thought, the tiger was awake. He knew that she would go this way. The trees seemed too close now; they towered and seem to cave in on her.

"MOVE!" She screamed, desperately making the horse ride faster.

When he didn't budge from his spot, she urged the steed to gallop. The distance between them halved, then halved again, and again. Time seemed to slow down as she neared him. She could see his eyes glow in the darkness; her brow broke into a light sweat. Closer and closer she was to him. At the last possible second, he stepped aside, but reached out and grabbed the side of the saddle and swung himself on behind her. She took in a sharp breath as his arms wrapped around her and dislodged the reins from her hands. The stronger arms pulled and slowed the horse down. She shivered, his chest against her back. It warmed her in the coolness of the night. She unconsciously pushed back slightly with her rump against his inner thighs. She held onto the saddle for safety as he brought the horse around and trotted back to the old castle.

He felt her warmth in front of him. The feeling of desire crept stealthily over him, taking him by surprise. She was a witch, was it a spell of hers? He wanted to pull his arms around fully and cup her full breasts, to roll them around in his hands, to breathe into her ears and nip at her neck, to make her moan with want. He suppressed these feelings as the horse reached the spot where it was tied before.

Without a word, she got off and went back inside, lying down on the now cold bed, while he tied up the horse and brought back the bundle. The fire had died out and it was colder. He sat down on his bed and watched her. She shivered against the coldness, unable to sleep. Not knowing if it was his desire overpowering him, or his kindness drawing him, he walked around to her and lay behind her, wrapping one arm around her, wordlessly. She tensed at the sensation, but it was warm. She slowly relaxed.

"Sleep. We rise at dawn." He whispered with a sleep-covered voice.

Warmth rushed over her, and she felt safe in his arms. Why? She asked herself. Why do I feel safe here? He was an outlaw, a criminal, perhaps a murderer. He was keeping her here against her will, but she couldn't help but feel the heat of him behind her, tucked in close. Her breath became shorter and faster, excitement building. His own breathing slowed as he fell into slumber. Her eyes stayed open and she hoped dawn would come soon, because she knew she would not sleep a wink on this night.


They returned to camp later that day. The hut she stayed in was completely burned down, nothing left, but a small dagger she had used to carve her food. The only belonging she had left there, she took it and they left. Sadness washed over her as her charred home disappeared from view. The imperial troops had come through, Yan had suggested. She believed him. The rumors of the tyrant lord's cruelty and injustice were widespread.

They stayed several more days at the castle. Everyday, she tried escaping his watch. When he was hunting for supper or out for a leak, when he was sleeping or when he had gone for more firewood. Without direction or another place to go, she was caught up to every time or she turned around to go back. She was sick of it, this boring life.

The closest city was Bienfang, city of wanderers. Perhaps, she imagined, someone there would know what the stone meant and who she really was. As a babe, a sweet old lady that she had called her mother took her in. When she was old enough and ready to take on her own responsibilities, her mother revealed that she did not bear her. They were not of the same flesh. This happened the same day she found the green sparkling jewel in the stream near the house. She knew it was destiny; that something called out to her. She was learned in herb lore, cooking, hunting, foraging, and the old gods. She was ready to strike out on her own when her poor mother fell ill. Mother Bertram, she had called her, lay upon her deathbed. Her mother told her that the hut was hers, that everything she had owned was hers. Her tears did not bring her mother back. She herself buried the old woman underneath the largest tree outside the hut. There had been an emptiness that settled over the hut, she had found it suffocating. The only joy she found in those empty days were dancing in the meadow of the forest, the same meadow that the outlaw tiger found her, the meadow where she was captured.

Every night she had been too cold to sleep, he was there to comfort her. He was ever-present to warm her, to hold her in the chill of night. She got used to sleeping soundly, knowing that the stupid tiger wouldn't try to do anything. He was an outlaw, yes, but why was his heart so pure? Once, she had been so bold as to try to sleep naked. A monthly ritual, she had quickly explained, just to see what he would do. Despite her obvious arousal, he had controlled himself well.

She lay now in the morning sun. The light filtered down and danced across the floor. He was out hunting again. This time, she began to think, this time she could escape. She had discovered a hidden path down the opposite side of the castle. Taking what little she had, she drove her horse down the hidden path, down towards the river. Once she was across it, the tiger would not be able to track her easily. She realized her grave mistake when the river had risen from the several days of dreary weather. It rose past its banks and flowed faster than ever. Her only chance seemed to melt away and flow down with the river. She turned to go back.

"Halt." A voice commanded, different from the one she was so acquainted to.

She looked down the bank to see a group of six mercenaries walking towards her. Her grip tightened on the reins as she recognized the colors of the imperial army on their armor. Her mind told her to run, but she stayed still, not wanting to go back to the confines of the ruined castle.

"What manner of person are you? Dressed like an animal." The leader of the group snarled. He was a large hyena, stronger and more deadly looking than the rest.

"I give my name to no one." She sat proudly upon her horse.

Turning towards the path, she stopped short as another mercenary dropped down from the trees into the middle of the path. Now there were seven of them. They began laughing at her panic-stricken face. She was left with no options to run. She eyed the group cautiously. One alpha hyena, two male foxes, two male badgers, a wolf, and an ox. The ragged looking bunch looked menacing in this situation, all looking with the lust of an animal deprived of food. She knew she was in trouble. They began to close in, surrounding her and backing her up to the river. The ox easily pulled her off her horse.

"What are you doing???" She knew the answer already.

"If you fight us, we'll have to hurt you." The hyena jeered.

Her cloak was discarded first. Several of the pack had begun discarding their leg-wear and armor. She fought hard, but the ox was stronger. He held her arms as the others began to take from her, her pants. She screamed and tried to kick, but to no avail. They were all stronger, bolder, and crueler. Her pants fell away and her top was ripped from her chest. Her breasts bounced out, causing several males to hoot and call at their fullness. The bull's full arousal hit her against the back. Her eyes widened as she realized how huge it was.

"No!" She screamed, but they just laughed.

She didn't want her first time to be like this. Not like this, stolen and ravaged by a band of hungry mercenaries. There was a scream different from hers. A horse had crushed the wolf beneath its hooves. The rider jumped down and rushed forwards. The group was taken by surprise and the two foxes fell quickly by the sword of their assailant. The badgers had reached for their axes and shields, the hyena his scimitar. The ox threw her over his shoulder and with one hand, grabbed his massive and heavy-looking hammer.

A badger fell, slashed through the neck; the blood stained the ground about him. The vixen tried to look around at her would-be savior. All she saw were flashes of white with streaks of blue. Yan, she sighed pleasantly in her heart. His sword sung as it bounced off the other badger's shield. Somehow, the sword divided in two down the middle. Now he wielded two swords, one in each hand, and it confused the badger. The defense was broken as one of the swords found its way into the gut of the badger. Blood spilled from the deep wound as he gave a low moan and fell dead. The hyena was locked in combat with the tiger now. The scimitar and swords clashed as both spun with knowledge of battle. They danced the deadly dance with experience. The ox swung his hammer in a low wide arc, intent on smashing Yan's legs from under him, but the tiger back flipped over the weapon. The hyena was not ready and was hit in the upper legs. His legs crushed and bones snapped, letting out a sharp yelp. Yan winced as he saw the hyena's legs twist this way and that as he spun in the air, dangling around like a puppet's uncontrolled feet. He guessed the hyena's femurs were shattered and blood would pool inside quickly, internal bleeding would take him. He turned his attention to the final opponent.

"You want the girl?" The ox bellowed and laughed out loud.

"Put her down gently." The tiger commanded.

Laughing, the ox threw the vixen at Yan, catching him in the chest. The two fell and she rolled away to the side, allowing him to hop up and dodge the hammer that fell where he was an instant before. The bull had not counted on such quick movements by both and had now gotten his heavy hammer stuck in the ground. As he forcefully pulled it up, the tiger jumped forwards and laid waste to the ox's wrists. It roared in pain and let go of the hammer, reeling back and falling into the river. His snarls were lost to the river and he was swept away by the fast current.

Yan breathed heavily and sank down to one knee. His eyes shot daggers at the vixen. She recoiled slightly at his malicious stare, but stared back with no regret.

"Fool." He growled.

"I didn't ask for your help." She stood up and found her clothing.

"Get on the horse." He snarled now, his patience wearing thin.

"You-!" She began while putting her clothing back on.

"GET ON THE DAMN HORSE, WITCH!" He yelled.

Without another word, she finished up tucking everything in, cloaked herself and obediently followed tiger back towards the forest castle, her prison.