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A Breath of Fresh Air

Naturing: verb. Present participle of 'nature'.

A unique combination of nature (noun) and nurture (verb). Similar to camping, but with a more profound implication. The act of purging oneself of city life, to allow nature back in. A cleansing of the soul to refocus on what makes one who they are.

'Naturing', was not a word that would be found in any dictionary. Dashel Jacombs was of the opinion that it should be in all of them. It was a simple enough concept, wasn't it? Yet, somehow, whenever he tried to explain it to his friends, all he got were blank stares, the usual questions about if he was feeling alright, and the odd request to come along on the 'road trip'. He shook his head. They simply didn't understand, and he doubted they ever would.

John Denver crooned 'Country Roads' on the CD player of his truck as Dashel drove up a single lane, unmarked access road two miles out of the small town of Juniper Hollow. He was in the deep woods now, far enough that he was more likely to find Bigfoot than a cell phone signal. The drive to his family's old cabin had taken him a grand total of seven hours and three pit stops, thankfully during which the threatening gray clouds overhead had withheld their promise of rain.

Ahead, his headlights illuminated an opening on the side of the road. At long last, he pulled onto the winding, narrow drive of his parents' property. His property now, as of two years ago. The thought brought a small twinge of pain. It was his first time back here since their passing.

Gravel crunched beneath the tires of his truck, his headlights sweeping the trees on either side. Between the clouds and forest cover, it was far darker than the early evening had been back in the tiny backwoods town, where he'd stopped for supplies ten miles earlier.

Swinging around a final corner, the forest opened into a wide clearing, and Dashel came to a stop before a modest, shingle-roofed log cabin. He set the brake and shut off the ignition, the truck's engine settling from the long drive with a series of pops that were loud in the quiet of the surrounding woods. Dashel patted the dashboard affectionately.

"Good job, tiger. You can rest easy now."

Opening his door, he reached over to the passenger side, taking the three grocery bags he'd picked up in town, along with the key attached to the handle of his suitcase with a rubber band, and hopped out. Fresh, pine-scented air filled his lungs, and he paused, breathing deep and stretching the kinks of the long drive out of his limbs. Despite the mild chill raising goosebumps on his arms, it was exactly as he remembered it.

Thunder rumbled overhead, prompting him out of his momentary trance. "Okay, I'm going," he said aloud, immediately feeling a bit foolish. He walked up the step onto the cabin's small porch, and slid the key into the lock. It turned without the slightest hint of resistance. Unsurprisingly, it seemed his father had kept the place well attended in the years since Dashel had been here last.

Inside was pitch dark, and rather than fumbling about, Dashel set the bags down and stepped back outside, walking around to the back of the cabin. He removed a tarp from a large, gas powered generator, checked the fuel gauge, and fired it up. It started easily, humming away, and Dashel headed back to retrieve his suitcase from the truck. By habit, he moved to lock the doors, but then stopped himself, smiling. He was probably the only person for miles. Why bother?

With the power now active, Dashel flipped on the cabin's lights as he stepped through the door, a pair of low-energy bulbs flickering to life within the cabin's common area. As expected, it was immaculate. The tiny kitchen and dining table were free of all but a thin layer of dust. Two darkened doorways across from him led to the bedrooms, with a proper bathroom off to the right. Water was supplied from a well, which meant industrial pump handles for the sinks and toilet, but he figured that was a small price to pay for the advantages of plumbing. Leaving civilization behind didn't mean scorning all of its comforts.

Thunder growled overhead, closer now. Dashel set about putting away his food stores -mostly canned goods- and cleaning away what dust there was. Beside the hearth in the common area stood a neat stack of wood, and with a bit of coaxing, he soon had a cheery blaze going. An aura of warmth began to radiate through the cabin, the crackle and pop of burning wood filling the peaceful silence.

As he fired up the propane stove to heat his dinner of canned beans and ham, the first drops of rain began to fall, pattering on the cabin roof. Moments later, the drizzle turned into a downpour, then into a deluge, the roof humming with the staccato beat of falling water. Dashel smiled, stirring his food. He recalled many days like this when he had been younger, hiding out from the rain with his parents in this cabin, helping his mother make hot chocolate, or playing cards with his father. It felt a bit strange, to be up here by himself now. Two years had dampened the grief of their passing, but it had never completely faded. He doubted it ever would.

Thunder rumbled, adding a booming bass to the music of throbbing rain and crackling fire. Storms, Dashel reflected, were nature's way of refreshing herself. Winds to clear the air. Lightning to break down the deadwood and make way for new growth. Rain to wash the world clean. Out with the old, in with the new.

On impulse, he turned the stove down to low heat, and ran for his bag. A moment's rummaging produced a towel and a bottle of all-in-one body wash. He dashed out the door, letting it bang carelessly behind him, and began frantically shrugging out of his clothes on the porch, his eyes fixed on the pelting rain bouncing off his truck. Leaving his clothes piled on the towel, he stepped out into the downpour, closing his eyes and spreading his arms wide as if to embrace the sky.

Yes!

Goosebumps rose on his skin, the icy water nearly stinging, his heart thudding madly with the sudden temperature shock. In seconds, he was drenched from head to toe, clean rainwater pouring down his bare skin, rinsing the city grit away. Dashel spun about, splashing through a puddle, grinning like a madman. Pine needles and small stones prickled his bare feet, but he ignored the slight sting. Wind ruffled his hair, making him shiver, but bringing with it the feeling of clearing all the cobwebs from his head. This was why he'd come out here. A freshening of body and mind.

Popping the top on the bottle of soap, Dashel poured a line of it across his shoulders and chest, finishing with a dollop on his head, then closed the bottle, tossed it on the porch, and began to scrub. His skin tingled, invigorated. He felt as if he were opening to the world, stress and worry pouring off of him with the soapy water. Out here, there was no dull, gray city filled with rushing crowds of strangers. There were no overbearing bosses driving him on in a menial job until he came home exhausted, or went to the same terrible bar on the weekends to socialize with friends who barely seemed to know him. No poisonous ex-girlfriends doing their best to dig their claws in at every opportunity. Out here, it was him, the woods, and blissful solitude.

He chuckled as he realized how this would look to anyone who knew him. They'd think he'd finally snapped, running off to dance naked in the woods. Maybe a small part of him had gone crazy. But, if so, it was the good kind of crazy. The kind that made you turn right in a world that wanted you to go left. Maybe this kind of crazy was what he needed more of in his daily life.

All too soon, he was shivering enough to make his teeth chatter through his grin. He quickly swiped the last remnants of soap from his body, then jogged back to the porch, breathing hard as he wrapped his towel around himself. He went inside, leaving his clothes where they lay for now. They stank of the city too.

The smell of his cooking food greeted him, the aroma seeming more intense than it had before. Every inch of his body felt alive in a way he hadn't for years. Dashel padded over to the fire, crouching in front of it and drying his hair, his shivers beginning to dissipate in the fire's radiant heat. That experience had been better than any thrill ride or other artificial high. It even beat sex. At least, any that he'd had.

What was it his friend Len had said to him, just before he'd left? Something about 'finding happiness where you could'? Len was the solid type. Dependable. A family man, the kind who would drop everything to help a friend in need. But, he would never change. Nor would he ever understand Dashel's desire for it. Len was happy with his routine, and that was well and good. Such a life simply wasn't enough for Dashel. He needed change, or he would drown in the sea of mediocrity that constantly surrounded him.

He figured this certainly applied. The last remnants of the city were gone, stripped away by the healing rain, leaving him free. Already, he didn't feel like the same man who had arrived little over an hour earlier. He was a new Dashel, ready to discover exactly who he was.

And this is only the first day.

***

The following morning dawned bright, clear and crisp.

Dashel awoke feeling more well-rested than any time in his recent memory. He now existed within an impenetrable bubble of solitude. The rest of the world could continue its hectic spinning, while he lounged upon his personal island of isolation, immune to the cares and worries of the outside world. His phone battery had died on the trip up, and he hadn't bothered recharging it -not that he would have any signal out here, or answer any calls even if he did. Good riddance!

After a cold breakfast of leftovers, he spent a leisurely morning sitting on the cabin porch in a well-seasoned rocking chair, nursing a hot mug of coffee and contemplating a book he had brought: The Essential Gandhi. Not exactly light reading, but it held some interesting perspectives and ideas. In the future, he would have to make a habit of reading more works like this. The knowledge of history's advocates of change was a gift; one he could make use of in his self-appointed mission of soul-searching.

Around noon, judging by the sun, he stood, stretched, and wandered back inside, leaving the book on the table and stuffing a couple snack bars into his jacket pockets. He debated whether or not to take any of his packed hiking supplies, but he didn't intend to be gone for more than an hour or so.

Time for some exploring.

Dashel walked back outside, closing up the cabin behind him, and stepped off the porch.

Immediately, he sunk into the soft ground with a noisy squelch. He was forced to take awkward, high steps that left a clear trail behind him, making him glad he'd opted to wear his hiking boots.

If I somehow manage to get lost, it'll be easy to find my way back too.

He wandered leisurely up a small slope into the forest, admiring the patterns of sunlight filtering down through the foliage. His mother used to say those sunbeams were what angel dresses were made out of. A silly kid's story of course, but he had to admit, the dappled light had a fantastical quality to it that was difficult to define. He inhaled deeply, drawing in the sharp scent of pine and wet earth. Such was the smell of a world reborn. Overhead, cardinals, blue jays and countless other birds trilled their songs to one another, lending a cheery background to the ancient woods.

A few minutes of walking roughly northward brought him to another small slope he remembered. From here, if he were to turn east, he'd end up at the creek, where his father had once shown him the yearly salmon spawning. Instead, he turned west, pulling out one of his snack bars and munching on it. His family only owned a small portion of the land around the cabin, and today he wanted to walk those grounds, survey his domain. After all, the king should know the bounds of what he ruled.

From its hiding place in one of the trees, a squirrel chittered angrily at his intrusion. He spent a moment trying to locate it -if only so he could chitter back in a bad attempt at squirrel- but gave up when it proved to be too well camouflaged. Squirrel 1, Dashel, 0. He moved on, remaining alert. It was, of course, entirely possible to stumble across things larger than squirrels out here. A deer would be a great sight face to face. A bear, less so. Belatedly, he realized it might have been a good idea to bring a bear-scarer, or perhaps some pepper spray at least. Not a bell though. His mouth quirked upwards, recalling an article he'd once read. Bells for bears that were used to people were practically a neon sign saying, 'free lunch', rather than a deterrent.

Soon, he came to a halt before a chain link fence stretching across his path, much of which was in such a state of disrepair as to nearly be part of a trail rather than a barrier. The land on the other side was -or, at least, had been- owned by a mining company. His parents had always warned him not to explore across the fence. Now though...

Huh. The 'Private Property' signs are all gone. Maybe they sold the land back to the state.

Going a little further couldn't hurt in any event. He was a big boy now, and knew enough to stay away from old mines and dangerous equipment. Walking along the fence a short ways, he found a section that was sagging enough to be easily hopped over. The chain link rattled beneath his boots, strangely bringing to mind the image of a cage door closing behind him. He looked back over his shoulder, and immediately felt foolish, seeing the fence in as poor a condition as it had been a moment earlier. Shaking his head, he walked forward, entering unexplored territory.

Unsurprisingly, the landscape here was little different than on his side of the fence. Perhaps a slight thinning of the trees, he noted as he walked, but no gaping pits or churning diggers yet.

Welcome to the magical land of Whoknowsville! And over on our left, folks, we have a large boulder. You'll notice it is quite covered in some of our local lichens -good with soup, I've been told, though I've never tried it myself. To the right, we have plenty of old growth pine -smells good, doesn't it?

It took him a moment to realize that the forest had gone abruptly quiet. No... not completely silent. He could still hear birdcalls, but they were all coming from behind him, rather than all around. No squirrels either.

Weird. Maybe there's an ultrasonic repeller that's still on or something. On with the tour! And straight ahead we have a... Oh, hello there...

Topping a small rise, Dashel paused to examine what appeared to be a small tunnel vanishing beneath a large boulder. An old animal den, most likely. The entrance was no more than the size of a large dog, and so covered with loam and leaf litter, he figured it was safe to assume it was abandoned. Any tracks would surely show in the soft ground. Walking closer, he crouched down to peer inside.

The ground shifted beneath his feet. Dashel grunted in surprise, beginning to stand. There was another shift, a quiver he felt through the soles of his boots. With a sucking sound like wet clay, the earth opened up, sending Dashel plummeting down into darkness.

***

Dashel came to with a pounding ache in his head, which only overshadowed the stiffness in his back and similar throbbing pain in his left knee by a small margin.

Okay, that is going to leave some nice bruises tomorrow.

For a moment, he merely lay there, regaining his bearings. Enough light filtered in from above to illuminate the sticky dirt partially burying him. His breathing sounded loud and harsh to his ears, but he didn't notice any pain or shortness of breath which might indicate injury to his ribs.

Let's see. Toes still wiggle. Fingers are working. No limbs sticking out at odd angles. So far so good.

Determining it was as safe as it was going to get to move to the next step, Dashel sat up, groaning at the renewed flares of pain. He spat out a mouthful of dirt, looking around the dim interior of this... whatever it was. There weren't any manmade supports that he could see, so it was doubtful this was part of a mining shaft. Yet, he'd definitely hit stone, and these sort of caverns didn't just 'happen' to his knowledge.

With an effort, he rose slowly to his feet, brushing as much of the dirt from his body as he could. He still probably looked like Pigpen from the Charlie Brown comics, but that was the least of his worries right now. Turning, he looked up, inspecting the hole he'd fallen through. It was approximately fifteen feet above his head, give or take, and the edges overhung the walls by several feet on either side. Spiderwebs of small plant roots stuck out from the ragged edges of the hole, looking far too innocent considering they were the culprit responsible for his current predicament. This cavern had once been much more exposed, but over time, had become overgrown enough to support soil. A perfect trap for the first unsuspecting explorer to stumble across.

With a sinking feeling, Dashel ran a hand along the dirt walls, coming away with more mud, but little else. Thanks to the wonderful effects of erosion and settling soil, he was in a very neat pit. Climbing out would be no small task without any tools.

Just a short walk. Riiiight. Good thinking, Dash.

Looking down, he kicked and shuffled some of the loose earth off to the side, looking for the stone he had landed on. His boot connected with a solid thunk, and a bit more clearing revealed part of a large, smooth slab. It stuck up from the ground several inches, and appeared to be buried only by the dirt which had fallen from above. Curiosity piqued, Dashel cleared away more of the dirt, ignoring the throbbing aches. A moment later, he stared down at what he'd uncovered, unsure what to make of it.

Weird. That bit looks like the beginning of another layer, but it's all crumbled away, even though the rest is smooth. So regularly spaced too. Almost like... stairs?

Why would anyone take the trouble to carve stone stairs into a place like this? Just his luck, the only intact portion of them had left him with this splitting headache. But, their presence lead to more questions. If this was man-made, perhaps there was another way out? Or, at least some ancient tool he could use.

Turning, Dashel peered into the darker depths of the tunnel. Past the sunlight's reaches, he might as well have been trying to look into space. The contrast between light and shadow was too strong. He was beginning to regret not bringing more in the way of hiking supplies. It wasn't as if he would have brought climbing gear, but a flashlight would have been nice.

Wary of any further traps, Dashel walked a few steps past the visible boundary the light presented. The temperature drop was immediately apparent, raising the hair on his arms. The musty scent of damp earth filled his nose. After a moment, his eyes adjusted to the dimness, and he could make out the next portion of the tunnel. From what he could see, it looked largely the same, though most definitely manmade, if the smooth grading of the walls and ceiling was any indication.

Something ahead twinkled in the gloom, catching his gaze. Dashel moved towards it, still cautious of his footing. A few steps later, his boots thudded solidly onto stone once more, catching him off guard. More stairs? It was dark enough here to render him effectively blind. He felt forward with his toe. No, there was a crack between two slabs, but it remained smooth. A kind of floor, then?

He'd lost track of where exactly the glittering object had been, but another few steps brought his foot into abrupt contact with an unyielding barrier, sending a renewed jolt of pain up his knee. Wincing, he crouched, feeling around with his hands. He could make out a vague shape, which appeared to be shaped like a pedestal of some kind, or perhaps a tablet.

His fingertips met cool stone, and he traced the edges of the object, working it out to be about two feet wide and three feet long. The top surface of it was angled towards him, and marble smooth at the edges. When he ran his hand across the middle, however, he felt tiny etchings in the stone, far too regular and uniform to be imperfections.

Definitely carved in writing, yet... He didn't claim braille as one of his skills, but unless he was mistaken, these letters weren't in the alphabet he knew. It seemed to be all curlicues and flowing script. Chinese maybe? Or Sanskrit? Why would such a thing be here?

He paused as his fingers ran across a raised, smooth object set into the tablet. This bit felt like glass, though the tiny bumps suggested a cut surface, like a gem. This must have been what he'd seen glittering in a stray sunbeam. Was this a memorial? Or a-

The air in front of him shimmered.

Dashel's breath caught in his throat, gaze fixed on the spot. Had he imagined it? No, there it was again! A sort of ripple in the darkness, like a black curtain moving in a breeze. Heart pounding wildly in his chest, Dashel carefully ran his thumb across the gemstone. Once more, the air seemed to fold and flex, and he fancied he saw a seam appear for a split second.

"What the hell?"

"Do not fear, mortal. I assure you, Hell has nothing to do with it. Though they, like myself, would likely be curious as to your business with the Raikei gate."

The blood in Dashel's veins seemed to freeze, his fight or flight responses firing in such fast opposition to each other as to leave him a statue. The voice had come from behind him, rough, with a deep growl to it that sent his mind haring off down the wildest flights of horrific fantasy.

"Since you're here now, I believe this place could stand to be a little less gloomy, don't you agree?"

Light flared behind him, its intensity sudden enough that it surely would have blinded him had he been facing in that direction. Now, he could see that what he'd been examining was indeed a tablet of sorts, covered in neat lines of foreign script, and with not one, but three large gems set into the bottom portion, each a different colour.

The initial panic was beginning to fade, reason returning as the paralysis drained from his limbs. A rescuer! Slowly, he turned around.

Okay, that must've been a harder hit to the head than I thought. There was no way that this... thing... could be real. He closed his half-open jaw, scrutinizing the hallucination. Yes, he had to be dreaming, surely. There wasn't a seven foot tall monster standing there in front of him. Those sorts of things didn't exist. How had his mind even conjured such an image?

It was vaguely human in shape, with a muscular torso and arms that would make any bodybuilder jealous. Its upper body was covered in tawny golden fur, including its head and face, which was distinctly leonine, bushy mane included. Piercing golden eyes regarded him, set over a broad nose ornamented with short, bristly whiskers. Two long horns like those of a ram curled over its head, and leathery wings loomed over its shoulders, folded passively for now, but likely capable of extending to an impressive span.

It was dressed in no more than a plain white loincloth and a golden necklace set with a blue, teardrop-shaped stone. In one of its massive hands -paws?- it carried a gnarled wooden staff, similarly unadorned. Looking down, Dashel saw that its legs were different than the upper body, the golden fur fading to black over powerful muscle, and ending in cloven hooves. A whip-like tail twitched between its legs, something between lion and snake.

Right. Definitely going to head to a clinic once I get out of here.

"Why do they always assume such things?" said the creature, an expression of annoyance crossing its bestial features. "Are all modern men so burdensome? Or am I merely unlucky enough to encounter the difficult ones?"

At least his hallucinating mind had the decency to provide some light along with this creature. A pair of flames, apparently without source, hovered on the walls, providing warm, flickering illumination. If this was a dream, maybe all he had to do to wake up was get out of the hole? That should be easy enough, if he could imagine himself talking to some fantasy beast. Dashel started walking towards the collapsed part of the tunnel.

"Your manners leave much to be desired, mortal," said the beast as he drew nearer to it. "Where do you suppose you are going, oh silent one?"

"I'm leaving," said Dashel. "In fact, you can probably help me, since you, and the rest of this, is a part of my mind. Give me a boost out of the hole."

"You cannot leave yet, mortal." Twirling its staff, it blocked Dashel's path, pressing the wood against his chest. "I am quite real, and we have important matters to discuss. It has been some time since a mortal capable of perceiving the gate has come here."

Dashel tried to duck under the staff, but found himself blocked by a heavy paw -hand, definitely hand, though it certainly wasn't human. "Okay, look," he said, stepping back from the creature. "In the real world, I'm lying at the bottom of a pit, unconscious. I need to wake up, so that I can start working on a way out of this mess. You can either help me, or get out of my way. Got it?"

The beast let out a sigh that was surprisingly human. "I'm sorry about this, but it's the fastest way."

Dashel didn't even see the blow coming. He stumbled back, his ears ringing from the creature's sudden backhand, the ache in his head returning with a vengeance. "Ow! What the hell?!"

"I am sure you know that it is not possible to feel pain in a dream."

No way... Dashel's pulse raced as the implications crashed down on him, his eyes widening. That thing was real, and it had just slapped him. That thing was real, and...

Letting out a yell of mixed terror and self-encouragement, Dashel burst past the beast, sprinting for the end of the tunnel. He had to get away! It was a monster, a real life monster, and he was trapped here with it! It wasn't far to the caved in opening, and he began scrabbling at the walls, jumping and straining for a root, a rock, anything that would give him a handhold. Dirt cascaded down on him, making him cough as it entered his lungs with his ragged breathing. He needed to-

"You won't have much luck doing it that way."

Dashel spun with a wordless yell, raising his fists in self-defense, the aches and pains in his body fading to the background with the adrenaline pumping through him. He doubted he could fend off this creature -he didn't even know martial arts beyond what he'd seen in movies- but damned if he would go down without a fight!

The monster leaned on its staff, eying him with a look that could only be called amusement. "Let me know when you've finished panicking, so that we can talk. I'll wait." It rested its chin on the back of its hands, the edges of its muzzle twitching upwards.

Dashel didn't realize he was retreating until he felt his back hit the wall. He watched the creature warily, alert for any threatening movements, but it merely stood there, unflappably calm.

If it was going to kill me, it probably would have done so already, rather than announcing itself. Gradually, the fear began to dissipate, replaced by reason, and leaving him feeling drained. Unfortunately, the headache also returned, with a vengeance.

"Done?" asked the beast. Slowly, Dashel nodded, a slight prickle of resentment rising in him at the wry amusement in the monster's tone. "Excellent. Perhaps we can move to more important matters then. First of all, you've injured yourself. Healing is not my area of expertise, but I can still alleviate your pain."

It stepped towards him, hand outstretched, looming over him like a nightmarish titan. Dashel flinched away, trying to burrow into the wall as ancient instincts -those which had taught man to flee from the monsters of the prehistoric world, lest he be eaten- screamed at him to run again, that the beast could only be lying.

"Oh for- here." Tucking the staff under one arm, the beast seized Dashel's head in both hands, the massive palms enveloping most of his skull with ease. "You're rather dirty as well. Let's take care of both."

Dashel gasped as a strange chill shot through his body from head to toe, leaving him shivering. There was a quiet puff. Dry dust poured out of the his sleeves and pantlegs, leaving his skin prickling with the feeling of being freshly scrubbed. At the same time, the pain vanished, in his head, in his back, and in his knee. One moment, aching, the next, good as new.

The monster released him from its grip and stepped back with a grunt, dusting its hands together. "Satisfied that I'm not going to devour you yet? Though you have admittedly tried my patience. Mortals these days. A couple millennia ago, such insolence would have made you an honorary sacrifice. Hmph."

Dashel shook his leg, testing his healed knee, still wondering at the apparent miracle. "Is that meant to be reassuring still? Because it's not."

"No, it's meant to prove a point. And if you're wondering if the healing will wear off suddenly, it won't. I'm not that bad."

Dashel had in fact been wondering that very thing. The nervousness was still there -perfectly logical, given he was in the presence of a massive, obviously powerful, never seen before monster. But, it was beginning to be overtaken by curiosity.

"Can you read my mind?"

"Not quite. Only emotions. And when you've been around as long as I have, the two are nearly the same." It held up a hand as he opened his mouth again. "And no, it doesn't work the other way around. I didn't draw you here, you did that yourself." It glanced back down the tunnel, which was still lit by the floating flames. "With the help of the gate."

That word again. "What is the gate? What are you? What is this place?"

The beast emitted another deep, rumbling growl of exasperation. "So many questions. Are you familiar with the expression about Cats?"

"About curiosity being the death of them? Sure, who isn't?"

"No, about the man, Catsopheles. He once fell in love with-" It cut off, waving a hand in dismissal. "Nevermind. It was long before your time. Regardless, all things in good order. The gate is exactly what it sounds like: a portal to another place. The place where, as you might guess, I and my people hail from. As for me, I've had many names. Some have called me Gamaliel, or Tiglath-Barak. Ashamhotep was one I quite liked, and later it was Exodius. But, perhaps the one you would be most familiar with, is Chimera."

"Chimera," Dashel said, mulling over the information, eying the monster up and down once more. Now that he had a name for the creature, it was difficult to think of him in abstract terms. "The legendary beast of three parts. Yes, I can see how that... confusion would happen. You don't seem like you have much snake in you though."

The beast shrugged. "I'm sure you know how stories get exaggerated over time." His grin was warm, but something about it made Dashel uneasy. "Now, suppose you offer me the courtesy of knowing your name, mortal?"

There didn't seem to be any harm in giving up that information. "It's Dashel. Dashel Jacombs." Did one shake hands at a moment like this? No, probably not. "You said the gate is a portal. To where? There are more of... of you?"

Chimera chuckled. "Yes, and no. I am an individual, like you yourself are, Dashel. But, there may be others of my kind still surviving, provided their gates have not been destroyed. Those who live on the other side of the gates are my kin, after a fashion, but we are not the same."

"You don't live on the other side?" Perhaps that explained the myths surrounding this creature.

"Yes, and no. I am a gatekeeper, a title both cursed and blessed." Chimera sighed, leaning on his staff, a wistful look on its face. "Certain powers are granted to me. Yet, I must live in both worlds, and neither, my fate -and my life- tied to the gate."

These answers merely led to more questions. "So you're stuck here."

"Until I join with a suitable host, yes."

"Host?"

Once again, that smile, promising benevolence, yet hinting at hidden designs. "All in good time, Dashel."

Dashel leaned back against the tunnel wall, processing what he'd heard so far. "Okay, you said -or at least implied- that the gate drew me here. What did you mean by that?"

Chimera frowned, a far away look in its eyes as it stared at something only it could see. "The world has changed much in this past millennium. Once, the existence of my people was known to all enlightened men. We were celebrated and welcomed into this world, treated properly as gods, which, to your kind, we are indeed. Now..." He shook his head woefully. "Not a single Ophannin remains in this world. Many of the gates have been destroyed, their sacred sites built over with rock and iron. And man? His mind is closed to that which he cannot easily understand. Corrupted with the sentiments of this modern age. It takes one of open mind to perceive the gate, as well as my presence."

Ophannin... that word sounded vaguely familiar. Dashel was not a religious man, but his mother had been a staunch Methodist. "Your people... are they angels? Demons?"

"Neither, though they have been called both at various times in history."

"You still didn't quite answer my question. Why me? I like to think I'm pretty open minded, but that's a far cry from being magically tugged to fall down a pit that happens to have an ancient monster inside."

Chimera chuckled. "Monster, is it? Now Dashel, there's no need for name-calling, is there?" He gestured behind himself. "As for the gate, it's... restless. It has been over three hundred years since my previous host was slain, and as such, it has not been opened in that time. The gate closes once its bond to the current warden is sundered. Your presence -one who can open the gate- resonated with it, drawing you here. To make a comparison, the gate is a magnet, and you were caught in its pull."

"What happened to your last host?"

Chimera's expression twisted in distaste. "Regrettable. He was a shaman among the indigenous people here. He was growing old and frail, and I was unable to rouse him in time to save him when his village was attacked in the night by men with guns. American settlers, they claimed to be, though in truth they were more bandit."

Dashel winced. "Sorry to hear that."

"It happens. Death is a part of your mortal lives. We cannot prevent that."

"You know, for someone who claims to be as old as you, your speech is surprisingly modern."

The beast smiled, his tone lightening. "I have my ways of observing the world. It has kept me entertained over these long years. Your modern vernacular in particular is often amusing, 'dude'."

The word sounded so absurd coming from such a fantastical figure, that Dashel couldn't help but laugh. "I can't argue with that one." Sobering, he asked, "What happens when the gate is opened?"

"It would allow the Ophannin to cross over to this side once more, and seek suitable hosts."

"What about the other way around?"

"No. Or, rather, it would be extremely unwise. The environment on the other side is not one a human can survive without assistance."

"So these... people, get to move over here freely, but it's a one-way deal."

"Not 'freely'. The Ophannin cannot stay in this world long unless they bond with an agreeable host. If they do not find a host, and do not return to the other side within the allotted time, they risk madness. Myself and the other gatekeepers are an exception. The gates are an anchor for us, as well as a shackle."

"Alright." Dashel nodded, chewing on the information. It seemed simple enough, but he'd read enough fantasy novels to know there was always more to these deals than met the eye. "And what do they get out of it? Why cross over?"

"My people seek hosts in order to experience life more richly. Our world is dull in comparison to yours. There, we are ordinary beings, and the life of an immortal grows tiresome without change. Here, we become storied gods and heroes, our roles and forms changing throughout the ages. Interaction with man makes our lives more interesting, much as it does with yours."

"Gods and heroes? The myths are real then."

"Exaggerated and distorted over time, but, yes, for the most."

"Fair enough. More importantly, what's in it for us?"

"When the gate is open, the power which you refer to as 'magic', will once more flow into the world. Gods will rise again among men. I am sure you are familiar with the great empires of old. Rome. Greece. Egypt. Assyria. Ur. All rich times for the realm of man. Unlike this..." he waved in the vague direction of the outside world. "Dry, gloomy place, ruled by supposedly 'edified' men, who have no knowledge of what their 'modern progress' has lost them."

It was hard to argue with that assessment. After all, part of the reason Dashel had come out here was to escape the 'dry, gloomy place'. "Okay, let me guess," Dashel said, holding up a hand. "You want me to open the gate for you, right? If I do that, will you help me get out of here?"

"Unfortunately, it's not quite that simple."

"Why not? You said I can open it, right?"

"More accurately, you can open half of it. I must open the other half."

"So what are we waiting for?" Dashel started to walk past Chimera, and found himself once more halted by an upraised staff. Dashel threw up his arms in an expression of defeat. "Well?"

Chimera grumbled under his breath, only the words 'mortals' and 'patience', reaching Dashel's ears. "Look," Dashel said, "do you want me to help you, or not?"

"Given your attitude, I'm almost tempted to try waiting another three hundred years."

"Alright then," Dashel said, spinning around. "If you'll excuse me."

A heavy sigh. "Wait."

Dashel turned, folding his arms across his chest. Intimidating monster or not, he didn't like being manipulated. "Ready to explain?"

Chimera rubbed his brow, shaking his head. "The gate, like myself, is of both worlds. Though unlike myself, that is how it was made. For it to open, both halves must be activated at once. This is only possible when the gatekeeper is joined with a host."

There it is. The catch. Aloud, Dashel said, "And what exactly does that mean? Is it temporary?"

"No. The joining would last for the rest of your life."

"Riiiiight. Sorry, no deal."

"You seem very certain for someone who was so curious a moment ago."

"That was before you told me you want to... possess me -or whatever it is- for the rest of my life."

"You presume you receive nothing in return. I assure you, that is not the case. The joining is an exchange."

"An exchange of what?"

"My freedom, for a portion of my power, and the ability to cross into the other world. There are... other benefits as well." He grinned, once more the smug, wise ancient.

"Such as?" This was growing interesting, but he knew better than to accept deals from mystical beings before hearing the fine print.

"Your life-force would become more robust for one. Human ailments would not trouble you, save for old age, which would come much later for you than it otherwise would. You will become stronger, and have access to the knowledge I possess. Power, of the sort that you will learn to use." Chimera snapped his fingers, causing a small, blue, dancing flame to appear in midair between them, before banishing it with a wave of his hand. He grinned. "And, of course, you would gain the pleasure of my company."

Dashel snorted. "So I can walk around with a seven foot monster at my side all the time? That could get awkward."

Chimera shrugged. "Why, Dashel, I'm hurt by your lack of appreciation! I think myself rather charming at this size!" He chuckled, tapping his staff on the ground. "But, no. While we are paired, I am capable of assuming a more discreet form."

"Okay..." So far so good. "What about my end of the bargain? I'm sure you know the expression about things that are too good to be true."

"It's simple enough, and I think you will agree, not especially onerous. You would undertake the responsibility of the gate. Though, unlike me, you would not be tethered to it. You would retain your current freedom, save for your duties in tending to the gate. In addition, you will be called before the court of the Ophannin, so that they may meet the new warden of the Raikei gate -the first in over three hundred of your human years. You must also answer at any time they summon you, with all possible haste."

Dashel raised an eyebrow. "And If I don't?"

Chimera grimaced. "You would only be late once. Having the Valkyrie on your tail is... unpleasant."

"Okay, that's a bit unsettling. What else? Is this going to be like the deal Faust made?"

The beast groaned, closed his eyes, and started to slowly smack his horned head against the wall, each time causing a small shower of dust to fall from the ceiling. "I told him it was a stupid idea. I told him mortals have long memories. I warned that idiot he'd screw things up for all of us, but did he listen?" he asked in a voice of one making an extreme effort to restrain himself. He took a deep, calming breath, and turned back to Dashel.

"Mephistopheles was an idiot. He went against firm strictures that we have always followed in our dealings with mortals. After we caught him, we freed his host from the deal, and we... showed anyone else who wants to follow in his footsteps just what awaits them. Trust me, it would be better to refuse a summons to court, than to get what he did."

Dashel pondered for a moment, chewing on his lower lip. The carrot was dangling in front of his face, and, judging by the look in Chimera's eyes, he knew it too. "Alright. If I agree to do this -which I'm not saying I will- what would I need to do?"

Chimera rested his chin on his hands, once more leaning casually on his staff. "Nothing that will harm you. No 'heroic' quests or painful trials, despite what you may have heard. Those are only needed when we have more candidates than we can handle, and need to thin them out." His eyes swept up and down Dashel, a calculating look gleaming in their amber gaze. "The process is simple enough. An exchange, as I said before. Freely offered, freely received. I give you some of my essence in a physical form, and you receive it."

"That sounds vaguely dirty," Dashel said, eying Chimera suspiciously. "Are you implying that we need to, ummm..."

That devious grin crept back onto Chimera's muzzle. "I believe your Oscar Wilde once said, 'everything in the world is about sex except sex. Sex is about power.' Besides, I haven't had any complaints from past hosts."

"Have your past hosts been men?"

"Some have." His grin widened. "And most chose to continue our relationship after the joining."

Dashel held up his hands in a warding gesture. "Now you're putting the cart before the horse. Sorry, but men don't interest me."

"Really?" Dashel looked up, surprised to see that Chimera had moved closer, somehow without him noticing. "That's not what I'm picking up from your emotions." It took another step, looming over him with that infuriating grin.

Shit. "Okay, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested. But, only in the deal, not the sex!"

Chimera chuckled, reaching out a hand and lightly stroking Dashel's cheek. He flinched away from the touch, only to have Chimera's hand follow. "You've never been curious? Not at all?"

"N-no."

"Lying doesn't work too well with me, Dashel."

"That's- stop doing that!" Dashel slapped away Chimera's hand, more angry with himself

than the beast. "I... I had a rough breakup recently. Not the first time that's happened. Maybe I've considered that things might be easier with another guy. Less conflicting emotions, easier to relate, and all that. But!" He held up a finger, jabbing it at Chimera's chest. "That does not translate directly into, 'I want a dick in my mouth'!"

Chimera made a weighing gesture. "Seems to me like it would be a pretty good test. Besides, who said anything about your mouth?"

Dashel blanched. "You can't be serious. No way. You're asking me to... to give up that? I've never even considered it with another human before, let alone a... a..."

"A monster?"

"Yes!"

"Don't flatter yourself. You're not exactly my first choice either, but I'm also not overflowing with options." He chuckled. "Besides, it certainly makes us start off on the right foot, so to speak, given how much time we would be spending together."

"No matter which way you present it, it sounds like you need me a lot more than I need you."

"I think we both know that isn't true. You came out here for a reason, did you not?"

"Yes," Dashel said slowly, "But that 'reason', wasn't to gain mystical powers." Or, he thought, to be screwed by a mythical beast.

"No, but you are looking for something." Chimera gestured towards the gate. "I can offer you a task that has meaning, and the chance to rejuvenate your world. You will learn and experience things few other humans have, and want for nothing. Don't you agree that the benefits outweigh the sacrifice? Believe me if you will, or don't, but I promise that I would make it pleasurable for you."

Dashel blew out a long breath, running his fingers through his hair. He noticed offhandedly that it was indeed perfectly clean, thanks to whatever it was Chimera had done to him. "Isn't there another way to do this? If an exchange is all that's needed, does it work the other way around?"

Chimera's grin was decidedly wicked. "Have you turned into a powerful immortal being capable of binding two life-forces together recently? Now, there are some rather unpleasant rituals your kind has devised, involving human sacrifice, and the consuming of certain organs, but I'm sure you'll agree my way is better than that?"

"Yes, but it's a close second -or at least third- on the 'gross' factor," Dashel muttered.

"Was that a 'yes'?" He leaned his staff against the wall, and started to reach for his loincloth.

"No!" Dashel yelped, waving his arms and beginning to pace back and forth. "I mean, maybe, but, let me think!"

Chimera rolled his eyes skyward. "What's to think about? A quick tumble, and it's done. Trust me, it will indeed be quick. It's been over three hundred years, remember? Shouldn't be such a big deal. Back in my day-"

"Yes yes, I'm sure you had to beat them off with a stick," Dashel snapped. "Give me a minute, will you?"

Dashel heard the beast grumbling under his breath, but he nodded. "Fine. I'll wait. It's not as if I have anything better to do. Three hundred years, and I get the only human on the planet who-" the rest trailed off into muttering too low-pitched for Dashel to overhear, for which he was mostly grateful.

Okay, think. Can this thing be trusted? No, probably not. At least, not completely. But, it was offering exactly what he wanted. At least, after a fashion. It was hard to ignore what appeared to be a boot in the rear from fate. What he needed was some form of insurance, a way to keep the Chimera to his word. That, of course, still begged the question: was he willing to let that beast have his way with him?

You already know the answer to that, a small voice whispered inside him. He grunted.

What was it dad used to say? 'Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!' If it achieved his goal, he was willing to do it. And who knew? Maybe it wouldn't be that bad, right?

He spun, facing Chimera, his jaw set in determination. "How do I know you'll keep your end of the deal?"

Chimera heaved his bulk off the wall of the tunnel, his tail lashing from side to side, leathery wings flexing slightly. "You don't trust me? I'm hurt, Dashel."

Dashel folded his arms, standing his ground. "I have no assurance that you won't have your way with me, take what you want, and leave me with nothing. Unless you can offer me more than your word, no deal."

Chimera snorted. "Mortals. Fine. If the word of a god isn't good enough for you, try this." He gestured, and a scroll appeared in midair with a gentle pop, its edges outlined in fire. Chimera stuck his index finger into his mouth and bit down, grunting softly. When he withdrew his finger, a red line of blood ran down the digit, dripping from his claw. He signed the bottom of the scroll with a flourish, then made a shoving motion, sending the scroll floating towards Dashel. "How's that for 'assurance'?"

Dashel looked over the tightly inscribed scroll, suppressing the urge to flinch away from the crackling flames, which were emitting a lot of heat. It appeared to be a contract, written in the finest ancient legalese. He scanned it slowly, making sure he understood each individual paragraph before moving on. Dense as it was, it seemed fairly straightforward, reiterating much of what Chimera had already told him -leaving out certain details, such as the method of 'binding' for example- and committing both parties to the contract, 'in perpetuity, for the life of the human signee.'

"Satisfied with the fine print?" Chimera asked, his arms folded across his chest. Dashel couldn't help but note, it didn't take much effort for the creature to go from grumpy to intimidating.

"It appears to be in order, I guess," Dashel said, reaching the bottom of the document. He was no lawyer, but there weren't any 'your soul in hellfire for eternity' clauses that he could see. "Umm, how exactly do I sign?"

"Here, give me your hand." Before Dashel could object, Chimera seized his palm, spreading his fingers between his own sausage-like digits.

"What? Hey! I- Ow!" Dashel yanked his hand back, shaking off the sting from Chimera's claw piercing his forefinger. Blood was already pooling on his fingertip, and he sucked on the wound, glaring at the beast. "That could get infected you know!"

"Please. I do have standards of hygiene." He gestured at the scroll. "Now, unless you want to wait until that wound closes and I need to do it again, I suggest you sign?"

"Alright, alright!" Awkwardly, he scrawled his name below Chimera's odd, foreign symbol of a signature. The moment he finished the final letter, the scroll flashed white and rolled itself back up, a black ribbon appearing around the center. Chimera snatched it out of the air, and it vanished once more with a gentle pop.

"Where did it go?" Dashel asked. He realized with a start that his finger was no longer in pain. He wiped away the blood to find that the wound had closed without a trace.

"I have sent it to the great archive, where all such agreements are kept. It is binding, and should either of us be found in breach -not that it would be possible after the joining- we would be answerable to the court, and to Themis." He grimaced. "Believe me, it's a bad idea to anger Themis. She fell afoul of another of the Ophannin once, and has been cursed ever since to always be in... that time of month."

"I can see how that would be... unpleasant," Dashel said, wincing in sympathy. "Sounds a bit like my ex."

"Enough about such dour topics though," Chimera said, a gleam entering his golden eyes. "I believe you mentioned something about men being easier to relate to. Shall we begin... relating?"

Dashel swallowed hard. No sense putting it off any further. He was committed now. "Promise you won't be too rough?"

"I'll be as gentle enough. At least, until you start asking for more."

Dashel snorted, shaking his head. "Dream on." He bent down, and began untying his boots. "Can you magic us up a bed or something at least?"

"Your wish, my command."

There was a slightly louder pop than before, and a rough mattress of hay appeared on the floor beside them, covered with a simple white blanket. Dashel raised an eyebrow as he kicked off his boots and socks. "Not exactly what I had in mind."

"I thought it appropriate for the setting. Humour me."

Dashel grunted, peeling off his shirt, then his pants, leaving them in a pile on top of his shoes. He was acutely aware of the beast's eyes upon him as he stood there in his boxers, shivering slightly in the cool air. This was markedly different from his outdoor shower yesterday, but there was no helping it. Steeling himself, he pulled his boxers down in a swift motion, stepped out of them, and stood bare before the monster, resisting the urge to cover himself with his hands.

"Not bad," muttered Chimera. "Seen worse." Dashel looked up, feeling heat rush to his face. At some point, Chimera had shed his loincloth, revealing a plump looking manhood resting amidst a thicker patch of fur bellow his muscled stomach. The shaft and sack were both sheathed in golden fur like the rest of him, proving that here too, he was more beast than man. Chimera made a twirling motion with his finger. "Turn around for me, let me get a better look?"

Dashel glared. "Don't push it." He stalked over to the bed, trying to suppress the butterflies in his stomach.

"That was a compliment, in case you didn't realize," Chimera said, walking over to join him, without a hint of nerves. "First person I've interacted with in three hundred years or not, you aren't hideous."

As much as he wanted to retort back about not being able to say the same, Dashel bit his tongue. In spite of his misgivings, it wasn't true. Monster though he may have been, Chimera was a rather majestic beast when all was said and done, and he couldn't seem to stop his eyes from wandering over the creature's body.

"So, umm, how do we go about this?" Dashel asked, forcing his gaze back up to Chimera's, who was wearing that infuriating smirk once more. Of course, he would notice where Dashel had been looking.

"How about we start with this?" Seizing his wrist with surprising gentleness, Chimera guided Dashel's hand up onto his chest. Reflexively, Dashel's fingers squeezed, granting him the feel of firm pectoral muscle clothed in soft fur. Chimera let go, but Dashel's hand remained right where it was.

Weird. Always figured touching a guy's chest wouldn't be much fun compared to a woman's, but it's not all that different. The butterflies in his stomach were flapping up enough of a storm to have demolished several small island nations by now, but he began to draw small circles on the beast's chest, brushing over the dark nub of a nipple. Slowly, his other hand joined the first, massaging the chiseled muscles. The feel of Chimera's luxurious fur was oddly soothing, much like petting a dog or a cat.

A soft vibration under Dashel's fingers made him look up, a sly grin creeping onto his lips.

"Are you purring?"

Chimera shrugged. "Can't help it. Would you prefer I talk dirty instead?"

"No," Dashel said quickly, "this is just fine." He did not want to find out what Chimera's version of 'dirty talk' was. Swallowing his nerves, he began to explore the beast's body, tracing the curvature of defined muscles down Chimera's sides, across his belly. One hand found its way up to the thick, dark-furred mane, delving into its plush growth.

The purr intensified as he worked his way back to the beast's belly, pausing in his downward questing when he felt the fur begin to thicken. He wasn't quite ready for contact that intimate. Instead, keeping his eyes fixed on Chimera's -which were half-closed, a smile tugging the corners of his muzzle- he swept down to Chimera's thigh, feeling the fur change to a more wiry coat. Here, like the rest of him, lay powerful, corded muscle, barely softened by the fur. His eyes slid downwards, taking in the overall picture -that of an apex predator at rest. He had no doubts that, if he had wished, Chimera could have him completely at his mercy.

But he didn't, he reminded himself. That's a point in his favor. He still didn't -couldn't- fully trust the creature, but perhaps his intentions weren't so bad.

Dashel nearly jumped out of his skin when strong hands landed on his shoulders, breaking him out of his leisurely explorations. He looked up, meeting Chimera's golden gaze, now seeming to glow with an internal fire that sent a shiver down his spine.

"My turn," the beast rumbled, leaning down. A hand slid to the back of Dashel's head, pulling them together. Warm, inhuman lips met his, silencing his gasp. A thick, strong tongue pressed against his mouth, seeking access. Dashel closed his eyes, and surrendered to the beast.

Oh god...

The kiss was unlike any he had ever experienced. Chimera's mouth enveloped his with ease, one of the creature's massive hands falling to his waist to support him as he was bent slightly backwards, gently cradled in an intimate embrace. That hot, wide tongue captured his, caressing and stroking, sharing a flavour that reminded him oddly of steak. Absently, he wondered if Chimera could breathe fire as well as summon it. He found himself pushing back, wrestling with that textured tongue. The sudden passion of the beast was infecting him, his body beginning to respond by instinct.

Too soon, Chimera pulled away, leaving Dashel panting. At some point, his hands had migrated to Chimera's hips, clutching firmly. His forearms trembled, but he didn't let go.

"Looks like someone is happy with our arrangement," Chimera murmured, his breath warm on Dashel's cheek. Dashel flushed, aware of the familiar throbbing surge between his legs that proved the beast's words.

"I'll admit, you're a good kisser."

"I've had a lot of practice. Immortals have needs too."

"I noticed. But I don't know if I'm ready for... that, yet."

Chimera placed a finger on Dashel's lips. "Hush. You will be."

Dashel let out a yelp as he felt himself lifted, Chimera's hands cupping his rear. Reflexively, he wrapped his arms around Chimera's neck, his legs spreading to wrap around the beast's waist. A heavy musk was beginning to permeate the air, and something warm and slick slid past Dashel's sac, resting against his cleft. He shuddered, the butterflies returning in full force, his insides clenching in apprehension.

"I-"

"Easy."

He found himself drawn into another kiss, once more captive to that incredible tongue. A soft swish pricked his ears. Warmth wrapped around him on all sides, the light dimming. The creature's wings, he realized, blanketing him in a leathery, surprisingly soft cocoon. Chimera's hands squeezed, kneading his ass cheeks, a lustful rumble vibrating into the kiss that set off something primal inside Dashel. He groaned in response, grinding his erect length into the lush fur he was pressed against, the soft texture tickling and encouraging his arousal.

One of Chimera's fingers found Dashel's exposed entrance and began to stroke, applying a light, massaging pressure. It felt strange, but not unpleasant. Suddenly, a cool wetness joined the stroking, making him grunt and jerk back from the kiss.

"What the-"

"Figured you wouldn't want your first time -or any time- to be dry," replied Chimera, his eyes seeming to glow in the dimness. He licked his lips, continuing to circle Dashel's pucker, spreading the gel-like liquid. "Though if you'd prefer, I could make it-"

"No, no thanks," Dashel cut in. "I was just surprised, and- Oh!"

"Works every time," Chimera said with a chuckle, flexing the digit which had just slipped inside. Dashel grunted, gritting his teeth and wiggling in Chimera's rock-firm grip as the thick invader gradually worked its way deeper, spreading more of the gel and easing past his clenching muscles until it rested at the knuckle, forcing him to accommodate its length. Gradually, Dashel felt himself relaxing, adjusting to the intrusion. The pain had been milder than he'd expected, and fleeting. Now, he merely felt... stretched.

The musky scent was stronger now, the ancient aroma of sex, an incense prepared for the deities of lust. The temperature within their cocoon rose, a droplet of sweat running down Dashel's back as he arched in response to Chimera's probing. The finger inside him curled, stroking his insides with firm purpose, the clawtip -thankfully blunted now, however the beast had managed that- massaged a spot inside him that sent a quiver of pleasure shooting through him, his length throbbing in response.

Chimera drew him into another kiss, his purr resonating through Dashel's tongue like an exotic spice. His finger withdrew, then drove inward, setting a rhythm of short, fast thrusts, more of the gel lubricating Dashel's passage. Dashel's eyes widened as he felt a second finger stretching his opening, demanding access with an inexorable push. Part of him screamed to resist, to deny the unnatural sensation, but he forced himself to relax. By now, his tunnel was slick enough that the second finger soon joined the first, spreading his walls apart. Chimera pressed as deep as he could reach, adjusting Dashel's no-longer-virgin body inch by inch. Soft, wet noises added to the carnal atmosphere, and despite his misgivings, Dashel had to admit: this really wasn't so bad.

The rush of cool, fresh air and light made Dashel blink, his skin prickling with the temperature change. The cocoon had retreated. Chimera drew away from the heated kiss, his fingers pulling out as well, leaving Dashel feeling oddly empty. The beast's chest was rising and falling noticeably faster, his wings fluttering slightly in apparent agitation.

"You're ready," Chimera said, his voice a low, lustful growl. "And so am I." He surprised Dashel once again with his gentleness in laying him down on the bed. He propped himself up on hands and knees overtop of his considerably smaller partner, and pulled Dashel's knees up to his chest, exposing his rear. Dashel glanced down, swallowing hard as he saw the glistening, red, throbbing length of Chimera's maleness, pointed at his vulnerable entrance like a spear. Like the rest of him, it was animalistic, and certainly larger than his fingers. Though at least it didn't appear to carry any of the 'special features' he knew some animals had. Nothing more than smooth, hot, flesh, which would soon be spreading him open. This was it now, his last chance to turn back.

Damn the torpedoes. Biting his lower lip, he nodded.

Chimera leaned in, the tapered tip of his cock resting in the notch of Dashel's recently stretched pucker. "It's still going to hurt, but only at first." He grinned wolfishly. "And it won't be so bad next time either."

"Next time? Who says there'll be one?" Dashel retorted.

"We'll say that I have a feeling, and leave it at that." Without further delay, he eased his hips forward, slipping himself inside. Dashel grunted, but thanks to the preparation, the entry had been painless enough, as promised. He could feel it inside him, much warmer than Chimera's fingers had been, the tapered tip easing him steadily open inch by inch as the beast leaned more of his weight into the thrust.

Dashel squeezed his eyes shut, biting back a cry as the meaty girth grew steadily wider, forcing him to stretch around its unyielding length. A squirt of hot liquid coated his inner walls, attempting to ease the invasion, his walls contracting in a desperate attempt to accomodate. Gradually, he could feel himself widening out, though it still felt like he was being split in two, especially around the thick base of the monster.

Warm fur tickled his balls. He opened his eyes, looking down. Chimera's hips sat flush with his own, not an inch of red flesh showing from what felt like an absurdly stretched opening. Wonderingly, he squeezed down, eliciting a grunt from the beast, and getting a feel for the tip resting somewhere deep inside him.

Huh. Guess there's more room in there than I thought.

"How do you feel?" asked Chimera, his voice husky.

"Don't you already know?"

"Yes, but it's still polite to ask."

"In that case, I feel like I just sat on a baseball bat. But, it's starting to ache less."

Chimera chuckled. "You're probably going to have a bit of trouble walking after this, but I'm sure you'll agree that it's worth it." He began to withdraw, more warm fluid squirting out to further lubricate Dashel's insides in retreat. His return thrust was equally smooth, easing back in to the hilt, his weight pressing Dashel down into the rough bed of hay.

At this easy pace, Dashel's flagging arousal quickly returned to full mast as the dull pain quickly faded. Chimera's length had a slight upward taper, and each slow stroke across a certain place inside him sparked a tiny flare of pleasure, his own manhood twitching and dripping pre. A breathy moan escaped him, excitement prickling through primal parts of his mind. This was no dream. He doubted his mind could even come up with something this bizarre. He was lying on his back, being plowed by a beast of legend, waiting to receive mystical powers from said beast of legend and save the world. He'd assumed he'd experienced his share of unusual things in life, but this certainly took the prize.

Steadily, Chimera's rhythm began to quicken, his thrusts creating a lewd, squishing accompaniment to their grunts and heavy breathing. Dashel's legs slipped naturally about Chimera's waist, locking his heels above the small of his partner's back to brace himself against the increasingly powerful onslaught. The blanket bunched up in his fists, the feel of cloth in his hands giving him a grounding counterpoint of reality for all the foreign sensations assaulting his system. It was a far different pleasure than any he had experienced previously. A combination of the willing submission to the power of the beast, the raw, electrifying jolts of ecstasy on every inward shunt, and the odd satisfaction of being completely filled by and intimately joined to another.

He met Chimera's gaze, the fiery lust burning inside them stoking a similar flame within Dashel. The pleasure there was unmistakable, regardless of species, and he was the one responsible for it. That alone was a unique delight he hadn't expected to find. Impulsively, he reached up, grabbing Chimera's horns and pulling his head down for a kiss, taking the initiative this time to explore the creature's mouth, battling with that long, agile tongue. He didn't care if he was proving Chimera right. He was going to get as much out of this as he could dammit!

Chimera's rumble buzzed through his nerves, the beast's hands falling to Dashel's hips, gripping tight for more leverage. A feral ferocity took hold of him, any pretense of gentleness going out the window in a frenzy of hammering thrusts that slammed their bodies together. Dashel cried out into the kiss, partly in pleasure, partly in reckless abandon, feeling his balls begin to draw tight under the sudden onslaught. Warm fur stroked across his bouncing length, teasing the sensitive head, the sensation of inevitable release dropping on him like a thunderbolt.

Didn't expect that. Oh god...

He tensed, his body clinging to Chimera's rutting form like a drowning sailor, his legs tightening and drawing the beast close. Pleasure overwhelmed him. Gooey, warm spurts of seed sprayed out over his belly and chest, wildly painting him in his own release. The pounding, constant pressure on his prostate prolonged his orgasm, his body quivering in its grasp. His member throbbed, his tunnel contracting on the beast's pistoning length, his balls feeling like they were being wrung dry with the powerful climax.

Chimera growled, a possessive sound that could only mean one thing. His hands dug into Dashel's hips and he slammed home, hilting himself inside. Thick, hot fluid gushed deep into Dashel's body, warmth seeming to flood through his system in a rush, rising with each heavy spurt. He moaned, falling back onto the bed, one hand dropping to his belly as more of the beast's lifegiving seed filled him. The rich fluid pooled in his depths until he could hold no more, and it began to dribble out past the thick plug of Chimera's cock.

In unison, they both sighed, Chimera sinking down onto his elbows, riding out his ebbing climax. Their eyes met, Chimera's now holding that already too-familiar wicked twinkle. Dashel grunted, idly rubbing his belly as the twitching shaft inside him was milked dry with a final, dribbling spurt. It might have been his imagination, but he could've sworn he'd heard a gurgle.

"Do I even need to ask?" murmured Chimera, running a finger through Dashel's hair and smirking like the proverbial cat with the cream.

Dashel rolled his eyes, refusing to give the creature an easy victory. "Is that it? Is it done now? The exchange?"

Chimera looked pensive, shifting his hips a little and drawing a grunt from Dashel as his sensitive insides were prodded. "About that. I might have... not lied, but, stretched the truth a little."

An icy hand gripped Dashel's chest. "What?"

Chimera chuckled, caressing Dashel's cheek in a possessive manner. "Calm down, it's nothing of that sort. I have little interest in souls, even if I could steal yours. No, what I meant is, the exchange has nothing to do with sex."

Dashel felt like he'd just been struck on the head with a hammer. "What?!" He sputtered, trying to find the right words. "You...you... I knew there was a trick! You dirty, cheating bastard!" Hot anger flashed. "Bastard!" He pounded impotently on Chimera's chest, the beast's laughter spurring him to ignore reason. "Get off of me!"

"Easy, no need for that," Chimera said, chuckling. If he even felt Dashel's blows, he didn't show it, merely adjusting again with a contented sigh. With a lewd plop, his softening shaft slid out of Dashel's gaping hole, followed by a river of cooling seed. "I was right, was I not? You can't deny that you enjoyed it. Why, by the end, you would have fit right in with the Nubian harem I once had the pleasure of entertaining."

"That... doesn't matter! You tricked me!"

"You don't believe that we immortals always do things for a good reason?"

"No, I don't! And if I did before, I certainly don't now!"

Chimera shrugged, not showing a trace of repentance. "Perhaps not. But in my defense, I did mention it's been over three hundred years, didn't I? You would be rather desperate for a tumble after so long as well. You drew your own conclusion from what I told you. I merely encouraged that conclusion."

Realizing this was getting him nowhere, Dashel subsided, glaring daggers at the creature. He should have known better. This was his own fault, and the worst part was, he had enjoyed it! Now that the high had worn off, the ache of their exertions was beginning to make itself known. Sticky fluid dribbled down his abused rear, the lukewarm line it drew on his skin acting as a cruel reminder of how it had felt inside him moments earlier. Once again, his feelings had been preyed upon, and ultimately betrayed.

"What about that contract I signed? Was that bullshit too?"

"Dashel," Chimera chided. "No need for such language! Here, it would be easier to explain myself if you take this." Heaving himself up, Chimera bent his head, carefully removing the golden chain from around his neck, and holding it out to Dashel.

Dashel eyed the necklace suspiciously. "What, is that going to bind me to be your sex slave or something?"

"Nooo, though, would that be so bad?" Chimera snickered, waving a placating hand at Dashel's black look. "This is the actual exchange. Take this, and our contract will be sealed. My word upon it, may all the forces of heaven and hell strike me down should I speak false." He shook the necklace, thrusting it under Dashel's nose. "Take it."

He'd already gambled and lost once today, so what was another? Muttering about 'lying, cheating, monsters', Dashel snatched the necklace, and looped it around his own neck. As soon as it met his skin, the chain -which had fit Chimera's broad neck and cleared his horns with ease- contracted, shrinking to fit Dashel perfectly. The pendant settled on his chest with a curious weight, and was it his imagination, or was it growing warmer?

Dashel yelped as a bright flash of light blinded him, the looming presence of Chimera vanishing with a muted pop. Sudden, frigid cold gripped him, his teeth chattering, his skin turning to gooseflesh. Just as quickly, he was infused with a mighty heat, sweat popping out on his brow, breath leaving him in a gasp. Then, it was gone, leaving him sitting up and gasping, blinking away the purple splotches of afterimage in his eyes.

The hell was that?

"That, Dashel, was the joining," came Chimera's voice from inside his head. "Has a kick to it, yes?"

Dashel looked around wildly, trying to find where the beast was hiding now. Another trick?

"No," said the voice. "This is the real thing. Get used to it. This is where I'll be spending much of my time. Rather comfortable, I must say. I've missed this."

"You're... in my head?" Dashel said aloud, feeling rather foolish. "Like my conscience?"

The voice chuckled -unmistakably Chimera. "If that were true, it does beg the question which one I would be, does it not? That explanation is close enough to the truth. Though, it isn't as if I am confined here."

There was a soft pop, and Dashel felt a weight settle on his shoulder. He looked to the side to see Chimera, no more than six inches tall, perching casually. The beast waved cheerfully. "Makes the conscience example rather apt, doesn't it?" His voice was higher pitched, and almost comical in comparison to his former intimidating growl.

"That," Dashel said slowly, "is going to take some getting used to." Feeling bold, he prodded the tiny creature in the chest. "We might have to have a long talk about lying by omission, one that I believe I'm going to look forward to. I think-"

Another pop, and suddenly Chimera stood before him at his full height, arms crossed in front of his chest, a ferocious frown on his muzzle. Dashel jumped back, choking down what he'd been about to say, and cried out when he crashed hard into the wall. He looked behind himself in shock. Had he just jumped ten feet?

"It will take you some time to grow used to your new strength," Chimera said, the thunderclouds fading from his face in place of a grin. "I would suggest refraining from leaping about like a startled rabbit until then."

Dashel barely heard, staring down at himself. He didn't look any different, but now, he could feel the strength coursing through his limbs, and the vitality flowing in his veins. He felt like he could run for miles without stopping, or bench press a tree, or, or...

"Yes yes, you don't have to thank me," Chimera said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Though if you feel the need, I wouldn't say no to another tumble later. For now, we have important matters to attend to."

Dashel looked up, clenching a fist and fixing Chimera with his best glare. "I'm still not happy about what you did."

"Still angry about the sex?" Chimera shrugged, sighing theatrically. "I suppose one cannot please them all. For what it's worth, you were a good lay. I presume this means I won't have the chance for another sample? Oh well. I am certain my next host will better appreciate my charms."

"I...you-" Dashel shook his head, too flabbergasted to properly respond. The beast was impossible! "I don't know! Yes, I'm angry, but... You could have_asked!_"

"Would you have agreed if you knew it was frivolous?"

"Probably not!"

"Well then, there lies your answer. This way, you have a better idea about the additional benefits of the joining that I mentioned, should you choose to avail yourself of them. " He had the audacity to wink at Dashel, chuckling.

"You could have at least made yourself a more reasonable size," Dashel muttered.

"Certainly! But I do like to enjoy my virgins."

It took an effort to stop his teeth from grinding together. Spinning around, Dashel walked towards the gate. "Come on. Let's get this over with. I need a shower."

"Planning to open the gate without your clothes on?"

"Not like you haven't already seen everything."

"Yes, but those who will be coming through might get ideas."

Dashel flushed, halting in his tracks and turning around, studiously ignoring Chimera's grin, along with the open ogling the beast was giving him. "Can you pass me my pants, at least?" Dashel muttered.

"No. I have a better idea." Chimera clapped his hands, and Dashel found himself suddenly dressed in a soft, white robe similar to a toga, complete with matching sandals. A weight on his head made him feel about, soft leaves swishing underneath his hand. A laurel crown?

"Much better," Chimera said, chuckling. "Now you look the part. Come." He strode past Dashel, his own loincloth once more in place, staff in hand. Treading carefully as not to trip over the hem of his robe, and grumbling about being commanded, Dashel followed him to the pedestal, the flickering firelight reflecting off of its gleaming surface and embedded gems. At the very least, Chimera had possessed the decency to pull the auto-shower trick again, though he had pointedly not healed the residual ache in Dashel's rear.

"How does this work?"

"Place your right hand on the amethyst."

Dashel did as instructed, standing beside Chimera, who placed his left hand on the red gem set in the opposite side of the pedestal. Both gems depressed slightly into the marble surface, a soft hum vibrating through the air. Two shimmering lines appeared in the air before the pedestal, One light, one dark, crossing from floor to ceiling.

"I think I see where this is going. Now we each place our our other hands on the middle stone, right?"

"Yes. Together. You first, as we are opening from this side."

Dashel placed his left hand over the turquoise stone, its cut surface cool beneath his palm. Chimera's hand completely enveloped his, squeezing lightly. Dashel didn't need to be told. He pressed down.

Despite the hum, the gem made an audible click, which seemed to resonate like a chime. The two wavering lines in the air thickened and pulsed, stretching out with edges vibrating like guitar strings. No, Dashel realized; they weren't merely stretching. The two were rotating, spinning in concentric circles, gradually opening into a portal that covered the cave wall to wall, its surface rippling like disturbed water.

He could see the other side, vague at first, but slowly coming into focus as the ripples began to calm. Bright sunlight filled the portal, making him squint, but he could make out humanoid forms standing on the opposite threshold, apparently waiting for the gate to open.

"We will want to stand back," Chimera murmured, taking Dashel's arm and pulling him gently off to the side. Dashel followed silently, watching in fascination as the brilliant window into another world solidified. The hum wound into an ear splitting pitch that made him flinch. Then, with a sound like shattering glass, a bolt of pure white light shot out of the base of the gate, lancing through the pedestal. The light dimmed, settling into a set of glowing stairs, leading from the gate -which Dashel now realized was on a raised dais, not level with the tunnel floor- down past where he and Chimera stood.

Wow. Peter Jackson would've killed for effects like those.

The hum died, leaving a pregnant silence. Dashel stared as the first figure stepped across the threshold, its form seeming to ripple when it passed through the gate. As tall as Chimera, and wearing a similar loincloth, though slightly more ornate, its body was covered in black fur, a golden staff in one of its hands. The face was distinctly canine, with long, pointed ears. It paused on the steps, nodding graciously in their direction. Dashel could only nod back, speechless.

Anubis?

More followed, some whom he thought he recognized from myth and lore, others completely strange. A massive, anthropomorphic bull, a great axe resting on his shoulder. A lion with the face of a man, walking on all fours. A four-armed, dark-skinned woman with an elaborate headdress cascading down her back, which Dashel saw on second glance, was made of thousands of tiny, fluttering birds in a million colours. What appeared to be a chinese dragon, floating sedately down the steps with a sinuous grace.

Some turned to acknowledge Dashel and Chimera with a nod or a gesture of thanks. Others walked by without pausing, which Dashel was quietly grateful for, given the fearsome appearance sported by many of them. One creature with four eagle's heads gave him a look disturbingly similar to that it might have given a small mouse it fancied for a snack, which made him shiver. Chimera's hand fell protectively onto his shoulder, and the creature moved on, apparently accepting that he had already been claimed. For once, Dashel found himself glad of Chimera's possessive streak.

The procession continued for what felt like hours, each creature unique and fantastic to observe. Dashel couldn't see how they managed to leave the tunnel. They simply seemed to vanish from sight once they reached the dead end he'd fallen into. Perhaps they turned into spirit forms, off to seek hosts? It was something he would have to ask Chimera later. This event felt far too profound to interrupt with words.

Magic is back in the world. Things are going to change.

Finally, there were no more sojourners coming through the gate. Dashel let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding for the past few minutes. That last creature had possessed a distinctly Lovecraftian look that he wasn't sure boded well for whoever it bonded with. But, what was done was done. He looked up at Chimera.

"Now what?"

The beast shrugged, stretching his arms above his head and cracking a mighty yawn. "Now, we go and get some rest. Our work here is done for now. The gate will remain open on its own unless we close it, or something happens to break the link between us."

"We can leave then?" Now that the excitement was over, a profound weariness was settling over him. Not to mention the ache he still felt. Sitting down was going to be a chore the next few days.

Chimera chuckled, his hand resting on Dashel's shoulder and giving a reassuring squeeze. "Yes, my impatient little mortal. We can leave. I can get us out of the pit you so elegantly made."

Dashel ignored the jibe, taking a last look at the brightly lit gate. The other side appeared to be a grand courtyard paved in marble, a statue of a winged creature set into its center. There was an entire world over there, one that no living human had ever seen. He alone held the key to exploring its mysteries. If he wanted, he could even live there.

Except, this world will always be home. Even with its flaws.

He turned, walking slowly away from the gate. Exploring the other side would wait for another time. He'd been through enough of the strange today.

It was time to head home.

***

Six days later, Dashel pushed through the door of Murphy's bar, striding in like he owned it. A wall of noise assaulted his senses, human chatter and blaring music competing to be heard at the same time. The scents of alcohol, cheap food, stale cigarettes and human sweat combined into the powerful aroma of inner city. Through it all, Dashel walked, unphased, a slight grin on his face. He slid into a seat at the bar next to a large man nursing a beer, and caught the bartender's attention.

"Frank, two sleeves please. On my tab."

The man sitting next to him looked up, his sagging features lighting with unrepressed joy. "Dash! You're back!"

Dashel nodded, grinning at his companion and accepting his slightly uncoordinated handshake. "Hello, Len. Yes, and it's good to be here. Did you miss me?"

"Like a gallstone, you sourpuss," Len replied, chuckling. "Look at ya! I know you weren't at the beach, but ya look like you had a couple years dropped off of ya!" He elbowed Dashel in the ribs, drawing a grunt. "I bet you found a nice country girl to pass the time with, eh? C'mon, don't leave me in the dark!" He downed the rest of his beer, started to wave for another, then grunted in surprise as two cold sleeves were placed in front of them. "And you're ordering the rounds now too?" He peered at Dashel, squinting as if to catch him in some lie. "Who are you, and what've you done with Dash?"

Dashel laughed, slapping his friend on the back. "It's still me, Len, I promise. It's been a good week is all. I'd tell you all about it, but you'd find most of it pretty dull I think. No pretty country girls. Just me and nature. You know how it is." He raised his glass in toast, careful not to spill the foam-topped beverage. "To fresh starts."

Len shrugged, clinking glasses. "Whatever you say, Dash." Together, they downed a generous pull each. The cold liquid felt good, its rich substance followed by a hint of a fruity aftertaste. The carbonation fizzed inside him, a pleasant harbinger of the mild buzz to come.

"Ahhh," sighed a familiar voice inside his head. "You have better taste in ale than I would have thought. I had nearly forgotten that fine flavour. I believe I told you that it's been three hundred years?"

Maybe once or twice, Dashel thought back.

"Was that sarcasm? I hope so. Remember the agreement we had about sarcasm? I think this counts. Make sure you order a few of those ales. It will be more fun if both of us are rather tipsy later." A chuckle echoed, and Dashel got the distinct impression of a wink. Studiously, he kept his face neutral.

"So," Len was saying, "Since you're bein' all mysterious, I hope you'll at least tell me one thing. Did ya find what you were lookin' for? Out in the woods?"

Dashel didn't have to think about his reply.

"Yes. I believe I did."