New Wraeththu WIP: Reap the Wild Wind
I've been working on an early-era Wraeththu story, Sulh-centric. I'm not entirely sure where I'll go with it, but The Muse has been giving me ideas. I'll try to post once a week; I don't think this will be as long as Maelstrom & Mage or DtWW, but I'll write on it until it seems to have come to a logical end.
Title: Reap the Wild Wind (thanks to Ultravox)
Rating: Adult; nearly all OCs, but Cobweb is there, very new to Wraeththu-dom
Again and again, as powerful as the churning waves that hurl themselves against the frigid strand. Again and once again, an infinite dozen poundings of arunic tides that his lover had learned so deftly to navigate, the near-sole adventurer to chart a course in his grasping waters. The visions were blissfully vague, mere phantoms held at bay as they shared breath, filling Kelp to bursting with pewter dawn and thorns. Blackspur gripped his hands as he thrust deeply into Kelp; Kelp writhed, clenching his muscles to draw Blackspur in as deeply as possible. Kelp had liked boys before; he'd been out to the monument and fucked other men back when he was human, but now, this…
Blackspur was voracious, feeding on Kelp's neck as though he were starving. He kissed and sucked at the skin before sharing breath again: he shared a torrent of thoughts and feelings, desire and lust and solidarity pouring into Kelp like water from a broken levee. Kelp throbbed; he could taste his completion, tingling at the base of his feet and roiling upward until it was a heavy, molten ache.
Blackspur, he begged via mind-touch, another new ability Kelp had discovered since shedding his human skin.
Then it happened - the flare snapping deep within Kelp's body from Blackspur's ouana-lim, tonguing the coal that insistently burned. Kelp cried out as jolts of pleasure wracked his body, spreading out in waves from deep within himself to his fingertips that tingled in his sated afterglow. Blackspur shouted, his stocattoed adulations punctuating the cold air, echoing in the room of their small cottage. He was buried in Kelp's body, Kelp's ankles locked together over the small of Blackspur's narrow waist. Kelp let out a deep breath he'd not known he'd been holding, easing his legs apart and sliding them down the bed.
Blackspur seemed troubled, so Kelp rubbed his back and send him reassuring thoughts via mind-touch.
What's the matter? he asked, smoothing away the tendrils plastered to his lover's skin, his freckles gleaming despite the dim light.
Blackspur shrugged, then drew up his legs, hugging himself in a foetal position, his forehead pressed to his knees. "What are we?" he asked mournfully. "We're so alone. D'you think we should try to go to the mainland? I'm sure there are boats," he went on, raising his head and running slender fingers through his auburn hair. Olive eyes gazed at Kelp, begging him for reassurance.
"We're Wraeththu now," Kelp murmured against Blackspur's clammy skin, trying to pull him close. "And yes, we should row across and get off this island. Maybe we can find a boat with a motor and petrol; everyone left so quickly, or died, so I bet if we make a methodical search, we'll find a motorboat. There are bound to be other hara over the waters."
There had only ever been a few thousand people, out in what had been the outer islands of Scotland. Most humans had fled, or died from a plague, and then two Wraeththu had appeared, terrifying and compelling. Kelp and Blackspur had been incepted through tears and paralyzing walls of fear. The pain had been less than Kelp's vivid imagination had promised, and then there was aruna, sealing his bond to Wraeththu-dom in a manner he could never before have contemplated. But they seemed to be alone, and Kelp knew that they needed to find others of their kind.
"Let's go south," Blackspur suggested, spooning next to him like a snake on a warmed rock. "We should find guns, too. We'll be considered freaks, until we're with our own kind. We may need to defend ourselves."
Kelp took a deep breath, running his fingers along the angular planes of Blackspur's back. "You're right," he said, massaging at the knots he found under his skin. "But I've never used a gun before."
"Hopefully we won't need them."
"I wouldn't count on that."
With a last embrace, Kelp moved away from his lover. They reclothed themselves and began to pack their bags; they were canvas, army-issue looking things that Kelp had found; they would do the trick.
"Just the necessities," he said, though it was a given. Both he and Blackspur knew they weren't infallible; the world could reach out at any moment and snag them, hence the guns they needed to procure. Quietly they got their meagre belongings together and began walking to the southern part of the island, a tenacious drizzle and stormy clouds their relentless company, step after step.
* * * * *
Their journey to the mainland was thankfully uneventful; their island, which had never been densely populated, was void of life- that didn't walk on four legs, anyway. The many sheep continued on as they always had, apparently not missing their former human caretakers at all. Blackspur took them to a deserted town and, amazingly, there were still a few motorboats, and petrol. The waters were rough, and the rain was a relentless, malevolent force. Still, they endured, not feeling the discomfort they might have in their former human forms.
As soon as Kelp stepped onto the slippery rocks, he felt a change; they weren't going to be alone anymore. He glanced over at Blackspur, and saw the same recognition in his eyes.
"There are others- others like us," he said, excitement thrumming in his voice.
"We don't know that they'll take kindly to outsiders," Kelp reminded him, "but hopefully they will," he went on, trying to sound optimistic.
"We have to find them, first," Blackspur said.
"If they want to be found."
They had climbed the hill up from the jetty and were faced with a landscape similar to the one they'd left; rolling green hills and drizzle.
"Wouldn't you want to be found?" Blackspur asked, his face glowing with anticipation.
"Yes, of course. I'm sorry I seemed negative."
Blackspur threw an arm around his shoulders and jostled him into an embrace. "I'll forgive you, this once," he said, grinning.
Kelp couldn't help but smile in return. "Thanks." More seriously, he said, "I'm glad I'm not alone in this. And that you're the one with me."
Blackspur leaned over so their foreheads touched. We're meant to be together, he said via mind-touch.
Don't you go getting sentimental on me.
Too late! Blackspur replied before he laughed aloud. "I don't know about you, but I'm famished. Let's find some shelter and get something out of our pack."
"Excellent suggestion."
After a quick meal they walked and walked; every small hamlet was empty, quiet decaying evidence of humanity returning slowly to nature. For five days they traipsed the countryside, their only companions the constant drizzle and sheep that crossed their path.
"Alba Sulh," Blackspur said one night, rather out of the blue.
"Beg pardon?"
"This land. The hara we'll meet."
Kelp looked at him in confusion. "How do you know that?"
He shrugged. "I just do."
The clouds slowly moved apart like a tearing seam, letting the light of a brilliant moon illuminate the landscape with shifting quicksilver. Kelp felt the heavy fog of magic that emanated from the land and wondered if it was trying to help or hinder them. Just before Kelp could make a comment about seeing the stars that night, he sensed them; it wasn't a rush of knowledge, more like a trickle of awareness, creeping along his spine. "We're getting close," he said, and Blackspur nodded his agreement.
All at once, they were surrounded. Kelp let out a squawk of fear, holding up his hands. The Wraeththu were armed, pointing guns at them, then lowering them when they saw he and Blackspur weren't immediately going to shoot back.
"Name yourselves," one har said, obviously their leader, clad in tight leggings and a flowing, slate-colored tunic. Blue runes decorated his forehead and down the side of his neck; fanciful silver figures of deer and dragons hung from leather thongs and lay on his chest.
Blackspur glanced at Kelp, who nodded.
"Kelp."
"Blackspur." He paused. "We're so glad to see you! We were alone before," he rushed on, relief saturated in his words.
The hint of a smile flitted across the other har's thin lips. "Where did you come from? We thought we were all of the hara in this part of the land."
"From over sea," Kelp said, his gaze sliding over to an exquisitely beautiful har. He wore his river of black hair like a royal robe and radiated powerful knowledge. Kelp marveled at his long-limbed body, the embodiment of a bleached, sinewy piece of driftwood.
The leader noticed Kelp's attention had wavered and glanced over to the har, who held himself with regal defiance. He returned his glacier green eyes back to Kelp and Blackspur, who seemed in a state of desperate agitation.
"I'm Cairn, the Warloch for our tribe," the primary har stated boldly. "You may join our company, but all hara here have proven their ability. There is a ritual you must perform before I will allow you to journey with us beyond our domain."
He stared at them, one eyebrow lifted as though Kelp or Blackspur would opt out and… do what, Kelp wondered? Return to their island? Cairn was both benevolent and fierce- Kelp had no doubt he would kill them if he felt they'd be a threat to his kinshar.
"Of course," Kelp retorted, filled with fascination more than fear. He skimmed over the faces of the small entourage of hara, these kindred creatures of such a new race. Again, pulled irrevocably as by an undertow, he found his eyes trained on the pale, lissome har.
"And you, fiery one?"
"Yes! What's beyond your realm? Are you killing any remaining humans?" Blackspur asked earnestly. Kelp heard the faintest quiver of anxiety as he asked the question, though he suspected only he could pick up on it, knowing Blackspur as well as he did.
"We only kill as needed; we've incepted when we can. We're seeking the rest of our kind, further south. And acquiring horses."
The magnetizing har had spoken, his voice a clear gull cry.
"Cobweb is correct," the Warloch said, bemused. "And I'm pleased to add you to our tribe- soon. You'll obviously need caste instruction, though I can tell you will have much to offer us."
At that, all of the hara reshouldered their guns, apparently waiting for Cairn's instructions. He introduced his followers, and each har nodded or raised a gloved hand across the chest when his name was called.
"Thistle. Sanweryn. Ferngarn. Petrichor. And Cobweb," Cairn said almost reverently. "Meet your new potential kinshar."
There, under the inky sky in which a few brave stars struggled to blaze through intermittent clouds, Kelp found himself sharing breath with each of them, one after the other. It was overwhelming, a dizzying surf of tastes and images, so powerful that he stumbled and fell when at last released.
Blackspur was scrabbling over the ground to find him. I thought I'd drowned, he babbled; Kelp could feel his clutching fingers like a starfish to a rock.
"You've got to be stronger than that to help us," Ferngarn said as he hauled them up, his voice betraying no small amount of disgust.
"We need to discover how deep their connection is to the land," Cairn said cryptically. "Follow me."
Blackspur tried to linger back at Kelp's side, but Ferngarn tugged him along to match his long strides, his silver hair not quite a compliment to his flinty eyes. He began speaking to Blackspur in quiet tones so that Kelp couldn't hear. The clouds had mostly dissipated, so Kelp could see the other hara more clearly. Despite that, he felt an incessant breath of magic on his neck, elusive whispers of messages he thought he heard- or were they just the sussurative snaps of their woolen capes as they strode with quickened paces to this destination known only to these hara?
"Here," Petrichor said, handing Kelp an amulet of bronze with a stone whose colour Kelp couldn't be sure under the tricksy moonlight.
"Thank you," Kelp said, uncertain as to why this particular har was being kind to him. He pulled the silver chain over his head and tugged his hair out over it, his boots sliding on a slippery patch of mud as he did. They were not quite running; it felt as though they were being pursued by something. He glanced over at Petrichor, his darkly multicoloured hair festooned with thin plaits that bounced with each stride.
"You're welcome." Petrichor's dark eyes were kind; he looked very young despite having wider shoulders than the other tall and slender hara of the group. "Don't worry, you and your companion are far safer now with us than you were on your own."
"I believe that," Kelp said with fervour.
That was the last of their conversation; they journeyed for a couple of hours until they crested a low hill and Kelp saw a long valley stretching away from them, a swath of flat ground that seemed to glow with ancient secrets that might well not wish to be disturbed. And yet, that was exactly where Carin led them, down to the entryway of the flat corridor marked by low mounds and tall stones of varying shapes that stretched upward mysteriously to the heavens. They were in small sets, on and on as though revealing a sentence of stone readable only from the perspective of the stars.
The Warloch slowed their pace at last, allowing Kelp and Blackspur to marvel at the standing stones scattered in small groups or in a line, and at the barrows. Kelp instinctively drew away from them, though he found them compelling at the same time. He approached a monolith whose craggy shape appealed to him when a har with a hawkish nose - Sanweryn? - jerked on his arm.
"Not yet," he chastened, though his voice didn't harbour any true antagonism.
Looking around, Kelp saw Blackspur similarly held by Ferngarn, though with his haughty features, pale skin and hair, Ferngarn appeared more like a disdainful marble statue come to life. Cobweb looked intently at Kelp, evaluating him as the others gathered closer.
"We are among the first Sulh," Cairn intoned, his tattoos gleaming a luminous vermillion under the moon's light. His voice was rich, flowing like the tones from a wooden flute. "Here are some of the stones of power; here we will witness your sacrifice to them, in turn to draw from the forces deep within this earth. To the ground you will also make a sacrifice, a pouring of arunic energy to replace what you take from the stone."
Blackspur stared wild-eyed at Kelp. Sacrifice?
"Please speak out loud until we've raised your caste enough to project more clearly. We can all hear your private commentary," Cobweb said sardonically.
Blackspur blanched but then regained his composure. "How or what do we sacrifice?"
"You will know," Sanweryn promised.
A melodious chant began softly somewhere within the circle; Kelp closed his eyes, letting the sound wash over him as it slowly, so slowly grew in volume, but never became more than a hypnotic murmur of encouragement. Somewhere a drum sounded, the throbbing pulse of a heartbeat; Kelp's blood roared in his ears. Deep magic rustled with unspoken energy, permeating the soles of his feet to travel up his legs to churn in his groin. Not yet- that sacrifice was yet to come.
The stone beckoned to him, craving his warmth, a liquid guerdon. On and on the rhythmic chanting went; Kelp's senses were saturated with pounding beats: blood, waves, drums. His eyes may have opened without him knowing; sightless, he offered his arms, ecstasy coursing up from deep within his pelvis when the cuts were made.
Yes, the stone murmured, the entreaty a lover's tongue on his skin. Kelp was outside of himself and yet present, smearing sticky blood on the rock, the rapture of viridian power pouring out of the monolith, glowing and pulsing as Kelp caressed it with his slippery arms. He wiped at his face, drawing his palms on the warm surface of the stone, offering life and tears. He felt the ancient energy flow back through his fingers, every vein in his harish body like molten knowledge, hot and potent and desired.
You are Sulh, the stone whispered, the sound like pounding surf and yet, a lover's erotic promise. Lie against me, child of the new ones, then sprinkle your seed on my earth.
Oh, wretched clothes! Kelp struggled, tore at them, his shaking fingers fumbling with the frantic need for aruna, to join with his clan on this hallowed ground. Naked, trembling in hazy rapture, he stood against the warm monolith that pulsed with lambent energy behind him. One by one, each of the hara except Blackspur approached and shared breath before filling him with arunic fire. He had only the vaguest of conscious thoughts, of noting the vibrant ouana-lims and shining limbs of his new kinshar. Again and again his soume-lam was ploughed; sacred passion and cries of sacrificial pleasure cascaded on him like rain as the slick, opalescent fluids of their couplings began to slide down the inside of his legs to seep into the thirsty ground.
At last, utterly spent, still vibrating with emeraldine arunic power, he collapsed onto his hands and knees, his shoulders and thighs quaking with the exertion his body had endured. Trance-like, he let somehar dress him and managed to put one foot in front of the other until they reached a set of stone buildings. The last thing his exhausted mind recognised was a piney scent as somehar washed his face.
"Welcome, Kelp," the reedy, gentle voice said. It chimed in Kelp's head, a homecoming. He was beloved. "Rest now."
Like a stone sinking into the ocean, Kelp fell soundly to sleep.
. : ~ To be continued ~ : .
Title: Reap the Wild Wind (thanks to Ultravox)
Rating: Adult; nearly all OCs, but Cobweb is there, very new to Wraeththu-dom
Again and again, as powerful as the churning waves that hurl themselves against the frigid strand. Again and once again, an infinite dozen poundings of arunic tides that his lover had learned so deftly to navigate, the near-sole adventurer to chart a course in his grasping waters. The visions were blissfully vague, mere phantoms held at bay as they shared breath, filling Kelp to bursting with pewter dawn and thorns. Blackspur gripped his hands as he thrust deeply into Kelp; Kelp writhed, clenching his muscles to draw Blackspur in as deeply as possible. Kelp had liked boys before; he'd been out to the monument and fucked other men back when he was human, but now, this…
Blackspur was voracious, feeding on Kelp's neck as though he were starving. He kissed and sucked at the skin before sharing breath again: he shared a torrent of thoughts and feelings, desire and lust and solidarity pouring into Kelp like water from a broken levee. Kelp throbbed; he could taste his completion, tingling at the base of his feet and roiling upward until it was a heavy, molten ache.
Blackspur, he begged via mind-touch, another new ability Kelp had discovered since shedding his human skin.
Then it happened - the flare snapping deep within Kelp's body from Blackspur's ouana-lim, tonguing the coal that insistently burned. Kelp cried out as jolts of pleasure wracked his body, spreading out in waves from deep within himself to his fingertips that tingled in his sated afterglow. Blackspur shouted, his stocattoed adulations punctuating the cold air, echoing in the room of their small cottage. He was buried in Kelp's body, Kelp's ankles locked together over the small of Blackspur's narrow waist. Kelp let out a deep breath he'd not known he'd been holding, easing his legs apart and sliding them down the bed.
Blackspur seemed troubled, so Kelp rubbed his back and send him reassuring thoughts via mind-touch.
What's the matter? he asked, smoothing away the tendrils plastered to his lover's skin, his freckles gleaming despite the dim light.
Blackspur shrugged, then drew up his legs, hugging himself in a foetal position, his forehead pressed to his knees. "What are we?" he asked mournfully. "We're so alone. D'you think we should try to go to the mainland? I'm sure there are boats," he went on, raising his head and running slender fingers through his auburn hair. Olive eyes gazed at Kelp, begging him for reassurance.
"We're Wraeththu now," Kelp murmured against Blackspur's clammy skin, trying to pull him close. "And yes, we should row across and get off this island. Maybe we can find a boat with a motor and petrol; everyone left so quickly, or died, so I bet if we make a methodical search, we'll find a motorboat. There are bound to be other hara over the waters."
There had only ever been a few thousand people, out in what had been the outer islands of Scotland. Most humans had fled, or died from a plague, and then two Wraeththu had appeared, terrifying and compelling. Kelp and Blackspur had been incepted through tears and paralyzing walls of fear. The pain had been less than Kelp's vivid imagination had promised, and then there was aruna, sealing his bond to Wraeththu-dom in a manner he could never before have contemplated. But they seemed to be alone, and Kelp knew that they needed to find others of their kind.
"Let's go south," Blackspur suggested, spooning next to him like a snake on a warmed rock. "We should find guns, too. We'll be considered freaks, until we're with our own kind. We may need to defend ourselves."
Kelp took a deep breath, running his fingers along the angular planes of Blackspur's back. "You're right," he said, massaging at the knots he found under his skin. "But I've never used a gun before."
"Hopefully we won't need them."
"I wouldn't count on that."
With a last embrace, Kelp moved away from his lover. They reclothed themselves and began to pack their bags; they were canvas, army-issue looking things that Kelp had found; they would do the trick.
"Just the necessities," he said, though it was a given. Both he and Blackspur knew they weren't infallible; the world could reach out at any moment and snag them, hence the guns they needed to procure. Quietly they got their meagre belongings together and began walking to the southern part of the island, a tenacious drizzle and stormy clouds their relentless company, step after step.
* * * * *
Their journey to the mainland was thankfully uneventful; their island, which had never been densely populated, was void of life- that didn't walk on four legs, anyway. The many sheep continued on as they always had, apparently not missing their former human caretakers at all. Blackspur took them to a deserted town and, amazingly, there were still a few motorboats, and petrol. The waters were rough, and the rain was a relentless, malevolent force. Still, they endured, not feeling the discomfort they might have in their former human forms.
As soon as Kelp stepped onto the slippery rocks, he felt a change; they weren't going to be alone anymore. He glanced over at Blackspur, and saw the same recognition in his eyes.
"There are others- others like us," he said, excitement thrumming in his voice.
"We don't know that they'll take kindly to outsiders," Kelp reminded him, "but hopefully they will," he went on, trying to sound optimistic.
"We have to find them, first," Blackspur said.
"If they want to be found."
They had climbed the hill up from the jetty and were faced with a landscape similar to the one they'd left; rolling green hills and drizzle.
"Wouldn't you want to be found?" Blackspur asked, his face glowing with anticipation.
"Yes, of course. I'm sorry I seemed negative."
Blackspur threw an arm around his shoulders and jostled him into an embrace. "I'll forgive you, this once," he said, grinning.
Kelp couldn't help but smile in return. "Thanks." More seriously, he said, "I'm glad I'm not alone in this. And that you're the one with me."
Blackspur leaned over so their foreheads touched. We're meant to be together, he said via mind-touch.
Don't you go getting sentimental on me.
Too late! Blackspur replied before he laughed aloud. "I don't know about you, but I'm famished. Let's find some shelter and get something out of our pack."
"Excellent suggestion."
After a quick meal they walked and walked; every small hamlet was empty, quiet decaying evidence of humanity returning slowly to nature. For five days they traipsed the countryside, their only companions the constant drizzle and sheep that crossed their path.
"Alba Sulh," Blackspur said one night, rather out of the blue.
"Beg pardon?"
"This land. The hara we'll meet."
Kelp looked at him in confusion. "How do you know that?"
He shrugged. "I just do."
The clouds slowly moved apart like a tearing seam, letting the light of a brilliant moon illuminate the landscape with shifting quicksilver. Kelp felt the heavy fog of magic that emanated from the land and wondered if it was trying to help or hinder them. Just before Kelp could make a comment about seeing the stars that night, he sensed them; it wasn't a rush of knowledge, more like a trickle of awareness, creeping along his spine. "We're getting close," he said, and Blackspur nodded his agreement.
All at once, they were surrounded. Kelp let out a squawk of fear, holding up his hands. The Wraeththu were armed, pointing guns at them, then lowering them when they saw he and Blackspur weren't immediately going to shoot back.
"Name yourselves," one har said, obviously their leader, clad in tight leggings and a flowing, slate-colored tunic. Blue runes decorated his forehead and down the side of his neck; fanciful silver figures of deer and dragons hung from leather thongs and lay on his chest.
Blackspur glanced at Kelp, who nodded.
"Kelp."
"Blackspur." He paused. "We're so glad to see you! We were alone before," he rushed on, relief saturated in his words.
The hint of a smile flitted across the other har's thin lips. "Where did you come from? We thought we were all of the hara in this part of the land."
"From over sea," Kelp said, his gaze sliding over to an exquisitely beautiful har. He wore his river of black hair like a royal robe and radiated powerful knowledge. Kelp marveled at his long-limbed body, the embodiment of a bleached, sinewy piece of driftwood.
The leader noticed Kelp's attention had wavered and glanced over to the har, who held himself with regal defiance. He returned his glacier green eyes back to Kelp and Blackspur, who seemed in a state of desperate agitation.
"I'm Cairn, the Warloch for our tribe," the primary har stated boldly. "You may join our company, but all hara here have proven their ability. There is a ritual you must perform before I will allow you to journey with us beyond our domain."
He stared at them, one eyebrow lifted as though Kelp or Blackspur would opt out and… do what, Kelp wondered? Return to their island? Cairn was both benevolent and fierce- Kelp had no doubt he would kill them if he felt they'd be a threat to his kinshar.
"Of course," Kelp retorted, filled with fascination more than fear. He skimmed over the faces of the small entourage of hara, these kindred creatures of such a new race. Again, pulled irrevocably as by an undertow, he found his eyes trained on the pale, lissome har.
"And you, fiery one?"
"Yes! What's beyond your realm? Are you killing any remaining humans?" Blackspur asked earnestly. Kelp heard the faintest quiver of anxiety as he asked the question, though he suspected only he could pick up on it, knowing Blackspur as well as he did.
"We only kill as needed; we've incepted when we can. We're seeking the rest of our kind, further south. And acquiring horses."
The magnetizing har had spoken, his voice a clear gull cry.
"Cobweb is correct," the Warloch said, bemused. "And I'm pleased to add you to our tribe- soon. You'll obviously need caste instruction, though I can tell you will have much to offer us."
At that, all of the hara reshouldered their guns, apparently waiting for Cairn's instructions. He introduced his followers, and each har nodded or raised a gloved hand across the chest when his name was called.
"Thistle. Sanweryn. Ferngarn. Petrichor. And Cobweb," Cairn said almost reverently. "Meet your new potential kinshar."
There, under the inky sky in which a few brave stars struggled to blaze through intermittent clouds, Kelp found himself sharing breath with each of them, one after the other. It was overwhelming, a dizzying surf of tastes and images, so powerful that he stumbled and fell when at last released.
Blackspur was scrabbling over the ground to find him. I thought I'd drowned, he babbled; Kelp could feel his clutching fingers like a starfish to a rock.
"You've got to be stronger than that to help us," Ferngarn said as he hauled them up, his voice betraying no small amount of disgust.
"We need to discover how deep their connection is to the land," Cairn said cryptically. "Follow me."
Blackspur tried to linger back at Kelp's side, but Ferngarn tugged him along to match his long strides, his silver hair not quite a compliment to his flinty eyes. He began speaking to Blackspur in quiet tones so that Kelp couldn't hear. The clouds had mostly dissipated, so Kelp could see the other hara more clearly. Despite that, he felt an incessant breath of magic on his neck, elusive whispers of messages he thought he heard- or were they just the sussurative snaps of their woolen capes as they strode with quickened paces to this destination known only to these hara?
"Here," Petrichor said, handing Kelp an amulet of bronze with a stone whose colour Kelp couldn't be sure under the tricksy moonlight.
"Thank you," Kelp said, uncertain as to why this particular har was being kind to him. He pulled the silver chain over his head and tugged his hair out over it, his boots sliding on a slippery patch of mud as he did. They were not quite running; it felt as though they were being pursued by something. He glanced over at Petrichor, his darkly multicoloured hair festooned with thin plaits that bounced with each stride.
"You're welcome." Petrichor's dark eyes were kind; he looked very young despite having wider shoulders than the other tall and slender hara of the group. "Don't worry, you and your companion are far safer now with us than you were on your own."
"I believe that," Kelp said with fervour.
That was the last of their conversation; they journeyed for a couple of hours until they crested a low hill and Kelp saw a long valley stretching away from them, a swath of flat ground that seemed to glow with ancient secrets that might well not wish to be disturbed. And yet, that was exactly where Carin led them, down to the entryway of the flat corridor marked by low mounds and tall stones of varying shapes that stretched upward mysteriously to the heavens. They were in small sets, on and on as though revealing a sentence of stone readable only from the perspective of the stars.
The Warloch slowed their pace at last, allowing Kelp and Blackspur to marvel at the standing stones scattered in small groups or in a line, and at the barrows. Kelp instinctively drew away from them, though he found them compelling at the same time. He approached a monolith whose craggy shape appealed to him when a har with a hawkish nose - Sanweryn? - jerked on his arm.
"Not yet," he chastened, though his voice didn't harbour any true antagonism.
Looking around, Kelp saw Blackspur similarly held by Ferngarn, though with his haughty features, pale skin and hair, Ferngarn appeared more like a disdainful marble statue come to life. Cobweb looked intently at Kelp, evaluating him as the others gathered closer.
"We are among the first Sulh," Cairn intoned, his tattoos gleaming a luminous vermillion under the moon's light. His voice was rich, flowing like the tones from a wooden flute. "Here are some of the stones of power; here we will witness your sacrifice to them, in turn to draw from the forces deep within this earth. To the ground you will also make a sacrifice, a pouring of arunic energy to replace what you take from the stone."
Blackspur stared wild-eyed at Kelp. Sacrifice?
"Please speak out loud until we've raised your caste enough to project more clearly. We can all hear your private commentary," Cobweb said sardonically.
Blackspur blanched but then regained his composure. "How or what do we sacrifice?"
"You will know," Sanweryn promised.
A melodious chant began softly somewhere within the circle; Kelp closed his eyes, letting the sound wash over him as it slowly, so slowly grew in volume, but never became more than a hypnotic murmur of encouragement. Somewhere a drum sounded, the throbbing pulse of a heartbeat; Kelp's blood roared in his ears. Deep magic rustled with unspoken energy, permeating the soles of his feet to travel up his legs to churn in his groin. Not yet- that sacrifice was yet to come.
The stone beckoned to him, craving his warmth, a liquid guerdon. On and on the rhythmic chanting went; Kelp's senses were saturated with pounding beats: blood, waves, drums. His eyes may have opened without him knowing; sightless, he offered his arms, ecstasy coursing up from deep within his pelvis when the cuts were made.
Yes, the stone murmured, the entreaty a lover's tongue on his skin. Kelp was outside of himself and yet present, smearing sticky blood on the rock, the rapture of viridian power pouring out of the monolith, glowing and pulsing as Kelp caressed it with his slippery arms. He wiped at his face, drawing his palms on the warm surface of the stone, offering life and tears. He felt the ancient energy flow back through his fingers, every vein in his harish body like molten knowledge, hot and potent and desired.
You are Sulh, the stone whispered, the sound like pounding surf and yet, a lover's erotic promise. Lie against me, child of the new ones, then sprinkle your seed on my earth.
Oh, wretched clothes! Kelp struggled, tore at them, his shaking fingers fumbling with the frantic need for aruna, to join with his clan on this hallowed ground. Naked, trembling in hazy rapture, he stood against the warm monolith that pulsed with lambent energy behind him. One by one, each of the hara except Blackspur approached and shared breath before filling him with arunic fire. He had only the vaguest of conscious thoughts, of noting the vibrant ouana-lims and shining limbs of his new kinshar. Again and again his soume-lam was ploughed; sacred passion and cries of sacrificial pleasure cascaded on him like rain as the slick, opalescent fluids of their couplings began to slide down the inside of his legs to seep into the thirsty ground.
At last, utterly spent, still vibrating with emeraldine arunic power, he collapsed onto his hands and knees, his shoulders and thighs quaking with the exertion his body had endured. Trance-like, he let somehar dress him and managed to put one foot in front of the other until they reached a set of stone buildings. The last thing his exhausted mind recognised was a piney scent as somehar washed his face.
"Welcome, Kelp," the reedy, gentle voice said. It chimed in Kelp's head, a homecoming. He was beloved. "Rest now."
Like a stone sinking into the ocean, Kelp fell soundly to sleep.
. : ~ To be continued ~ : .