By T.S. FESSELN

Permission is granted for private use. The author wishes any agencies that wish to publish this work, to please contact him at [email protected]. Any comments are gladly accepted and encouraged.

The Departure

Part 3 Under A Pale Eye And Darkened Cloud

      Jarial kept herself curled around the Chosen One until she felt her ward breathing deeply in sleep. Slowly the Guardian eased herself away from the bound girl and slipped out of bed.

Tyraal could not help thinking how lucky of a man he was to have such a beautiful companion as Jarial as she lightly approached him. The playful smile that she wore betrayed what was in her heart as she curled up beside his chair.

      "She is asleep," Jarial whispered, stroking Tyraal's leg.

       His fingers brushed through her long, dark tresses and could smell the lingering perfume of rose, "She has a long road to travel ahead, as do we."

      Jarial looked up at Tyraal with her green eyes, "Perhaps you can put me to rest like I have the Chosen One. . ."

       Tyraal smiled, "You think so?"

      "It is a long journey ahead," Jarial replied, "and I do need my sleep."

      Jarial's fingers were already searching for the drawstring for her companion's leggings. She knelt between his legs and slowly pulled the knot out. She could already feel his member was hard and ready and with a sly grin on her face, she began to trace its outline with the tips of her fingers.

      "I should think that you would want your companion to rest for the journey ahead," Jarial whispered.

      Tyraal nodded his head, enjoying the ministrations of his beloved.

      Slowly she unlaced the leather drawstring over his manhood. After undoing several lacings, she folded the flap back to reveal the object of her desire, posed rampant from a nest of light brown curls. She leaned forward and kissed its purple head gently before taking it into her mouth.

       Jarial enjoyed the salty taste of his manhood as her tongue caressed its burled length. She crossed her hands behind her back, as she was taught to do and began to gently suckle it. Soon, the guardian heard her companions low, growling moans. She continued her slow ministrations, carefully gauging his slight movements so that she would not make him spill his seed to fast. Jarial wanted to feel that gift inside her when it was time.

      Her lips left his member and smiled the wanton smile of a harlot and stood up, her hands still crossed behind her.

      "I am yours to do with as you please," Jarial said softly, her head bowed.

       Tyraal grinned, "And what, pray tell, would please my beloved companion?"

       The brunette leaned over and whispered into Tyraal's ear, "I want you inside me."

      "You know what you must do, dear Jarial," he gently kissed her on the lips.

      Jarial nodded, the anticipation filling her with a warmth that swirled through her womb like a storm of dragonflies. She stepped lightly over to her saddlebags and took from it a collar exactly like The Chosen Ones save that its color was a dark, heated red. She fastened it around her neck before bringing out the red leather manacles that would grace her wrists and ankles as well as several small lengths of chain. She silently fastened these upon each limb, locking each with a secret catch. The last thing she produced from her saddlebags was a dark red leather gag, which she fastened into place as well. When Jarial was pleased with all of her bindings, she stepped forward to Tyraal, handed him the links of chain then turned around and knelt, hands crossed behind her.

      The brunette was nearly shivering when Tyraal took the chain and fastened them to her cuffs. He pulled her wrists up and fastened them to the back of her collar so they were crossed between her shoulder blades. She tested her bonds simply to adjust to them. Tyraal never let her have any slack in her bondage nor did she want any. It was part of the ceremony that she had come to love and adore. Any coupling between a Fullblood and his companion necessitated it.

      Jarial was so lost in thought that she did not realize that her lover had already locked the short length of chain between her ankles. She stood up, smiling around her gag, and let Tyraal clip his lead upon her collar. Each clip was unique to each pair of Guardians and no other clip would work on Jarial's collar. It was their sacred bond to one another.

      With a gentle tug, Tyraal led his companion over to a pile of pillows that were mounded in the corner. Gulmon was a most gracious host and knew the needs of all his guest even before they needed them. Jarial knelt down upon them and then let Tyraal ease her down upon her stomach. She felt her ankles being pulled back and the attached to her wrist cuffs so now she was tightly hogtied. It was Tyraal's favorite position for taking her and she had come to love it as well.

       Tyraal eased his companion over onto her back and made sure that she was comfortable. For all the years he had traveled with her, he never got tired of her lithe, helpless form. Her light skin contrasted with her long, dark tresses and her dark nipples were now stiff with ache and desire. Her green eyes were hungry for him and by the slight movement of her hips, Tyraal could tell see she was more than eager to feel him inside of her.

       The Guardian took his time undressing, enjoying the slight and pleading moans coming from his captive. For what seemed forever to Jarial, Tyraal stood over her, his member rampant and a beam across his face that told he was enjoying toying with her. Finally, after Jarial struggled and thrusted and whined more loudly did Tyraal lean down over her and tenderly kiss her forehead.

      Slowly, his kisses trailed down her cheek and neck. Tyraal only stopped a bit to nibble at each of her earlobes before continuing. Already, Jarial's blood was at a high boil and she forced her helpless body against his, rubbing back and forth, trying to get him to couple with her. But he ignore her, preferring to set his own pace as he continued to trail his kisses down over her collar and collar bone to her breasts.

      Tyraal's tongue licked around each nipple and teased each of them with his little, almost painful bites. She arched herself to him, feeling the heat of his skin and the firmness of his body against hers. Each nip and kiss seemed to send more licks of pure pleasure coursing through her and she knew her moans were getting louder and more insistent.

      His lips left her breast and started to leave a hot, moist trail over the flat of her stomach towards her quim. His tongue teased at her mons and at her outer gates, pushing her passion onto an even higher plane of lust. Her position forced her legs to open for him and she knew with a flick or two from his tongue over her bud, that she would be engulfed in a broiling rapture. But, Tyraal did not oblige. He continued to tease her mercilessly.

       Then he stopped.

      Jarial felt Tyraal's hands upon her knees and gently, he spread them further apart and knelt between them. She held her breath as she felt him nudge at her sex before easing inside of her. Tyraal filled her so completely in so many ways, including this. Slowly, he began to thrust in and out of her and she tightened around him in response. The boiling tide within her womb began to fill her whole being with bliss with each and every little movement of their bodies.

      Tyraal quickened the pace, feeling her pleasure surrounding him and milking him; needing his seed.

       A red-hot ecstasy churned though Jarial as she bucked and moaned beneath Tyraal, helpless to do anything but enjoy. The blissful boil roiled more and more inside her until finally, her soul was lost in pure rapture as she felt Tyraal's seed flood inside of her. She was a captured wild thing straining against the pleasure as she writhed in her bonds. Then slowly, the joy ebbed away as Tyraal withdrew and lay beside her. The pleasure did not fully ebb away, however, but lingered like a long summer evening. Tyraal cradled her in his arms and slowly she fell asleep feeling warm and safe even though the leather and chains still bound her.

      It was sometime during the night that Tyraal eased Jarial's bindings off of her, including her gag and collar. The Chosen One was still asleep in her bindings, for which he was glad. He had worried briefly that Jarial's noises through her gag might have woken the young sacrifice, but the travel and the stress of yesterday had worked their magic and turned the young girl's ears deaf to Jarial's passionate moans.

      Tyraal packed Jarial's bindings away and then sat naked at the window, looking out at Taloncrag. The moon had frosted it silver and white and even as close to it as they were, Tyraal was homesick for the comforts of the temple and his house.

      A shiver ran up his spine, as if a ghost had touched him.

      Something was out there.

      He pressed his palm against the glass and closed his eyes. He could feel traces of it lingering in the night air like a foul stench, but he could not find it. It was not that Tyraal feared what was out there, but the Chosen One hampered just what actions he could take. If it were not for her, Tyraal would have donned his armor right then and gone out to hunt the thing down. Jarial would have gone too. Her senses were not as keen as his, but she was every bit as good a fighter and, in some ways, even better. She knew how to find a weakness in an opponent faster than he ever could.

      Whatever lurked out there in the dark forests of the night, Tyraal was sure that they would cross its path.

                                                                          -o0o-

          She slid through the wood as if she was a shadow, sniffing the night air for that whisper of a Chosen One’s scent. Pausing here and there, careful not to make a twig snap or rustle a branch that might give her away. Her and her two litter-mates were born and bred to do this. They were born to kill.

        She did not kill to eat. She did not kill for territory. She killed simply to rip the life out of anything in her path that would stop her from her task. Anything. In the past, her wild ancestors would not just kill what they needed for their sustenance; they would systematically slaughter every beast in the herd to deprive others in the area and to attract more beasts to massacre.

       She caught the scent again. A Chosen One was close, so very close. She could taste the torn, blood-soaked flesh in that scent and hear the gag-muted screams.

        The one who trained her would be so very pleased.

        As silent as a wraith, she continued through the black wood, her fangs glistening in the moonlight as she grinned.

        A slight breeze smelling of rain ripped the scent away. She growled her displeasure.

Distant thunder heralded the coming of rain.

                                                                         -o0o-

       The soft sound of thunder caused Tyraal to awaken. He could tell that it was only a few hours before the sun would lighten the world. The echoing rumble of the clouds also told Tyraal the morning was going to be one soaked with rain. Looking out over the darkened meadow, he saw the dark clouds had already enshrouded Taloncrag and had spread over all the night sky. The flashes of lightning that speared the dark provided the only light.

        "I must check on the horses," Jarial whispered as she crept up beside Tyraal and gently touched his shoulder.

        "They will be fine, my love," Tyraal said, kissing her hand lightly, "They are safe in their stalls."

          Tyraal's companion looked past the meadow towards the forest beyond. Even she could feel something out there in the dark watching them. It was the same feeling she got when seeing a skulls empty eye sockets staring out at her from a dark beyond.

         "What is out there?" Jarial asked in a low voice.

          The Guardian shook his head, "I do not know. It is as if I can see its shadow but not the creature that casts it."

         Jarial nodded her head and gently kissed the back of Tyraal's neck. She had awoken to the sound of thunder as well and sensed that something was unsettling Tyraal. Of course, he would not admit it but Jarial had learned much about her Fullbloods many moods and there was very little that would disturb Tyraal this way. Slowly, she began to massage his broad shoulders, being mindful of his scars.

          "It is stalking us," Jarial said, hoping that Tyraal would not confirm it.

          "Yes," he nodded.

           Jarial could feel the tension in his muscles and flesh as her fingers tried to work it away. Normally, she enjoyed the intimacy of this simple act, but the dark beyond the windows seemed to leech the warmth out of Tyraal and it affected her as well.

         "We will leave at daylight as planned." Tyraal spoke in a low voice, "The Chosen One is not as well traveled as you or I and in her present bindings, and travel in the pre-dawn darkness would be folly. Are you well rested, my love?"

         Jarial smiled a tentative smile, "As well rested as I usually am after a night with you, sweet Tyraal. You fill me full of lightning bolts and fire. That does quite a bit in keeping me alert and invigorated."

         Tyraal turn and kissed her lightly, "You always say that."

        "Because, Tyraal, it is always true."

          In truth, the warmth of Tyraal's seed did indeed fill her with an embracing energy that would last for the next day or two. It also felt a bit wanton but she had learned that was not a bad thing to feel. When Jarial had first slept with Tyraal, she felt guilty and soiled about her feelings even though she had been advised about them during her training. Their warmth and intensity was so unlike anything she had ever felt. But, as she talked to the other companions, she learned that they had similar feelings and that they were not to be shunned but rather to be embraced and savored.

         The guardians sat curled against each other as the sky grew gradually lighter. It was still bruised by the storm clouds that had now cloaked Taloncrag and its surrounding peaks. A mist clung around The Horn like a damp shroud and made ghosts of the trees beyond.

         "It is time," Tyraal said as kissed and looked into his companion's dark brown eyes.

Without any other words, the pair gathered up their belongings and began dressing in their armor, helping each other with the straps and buckles. Their helmets were the last items to be put on and Jarial gently tucked her long brown tresses up inside then adjusted her chinstrap.

         Naryla was still curled up on the bed in her bindings. A pair of steel and white leather cuffs held her wrists behind her back and a white collar graced her slender neck. Gently, Jarial brushed aside the young blondes hair and made sure the gag of white was also still in place. Jarial smiled and kissed the Chosen One lightly on her forehead.

         "It is time to get up, Chosen One," Jarial whispered.

         Naryla's dreams of lush peach orchards and secret dances abruptly faded and she found that she could not move her arms. She squealed in a panic and found her mouth filled and unable to talk. Naryla's confusion soon ended when her blue eyes looked up into Jarials.

          "It is all right, Chosen One," the brunette smiled, "You are safe. I need to get you ready while Tyraal tends to the horses."

           The young woman was unsteady in her bindings as she eased out of bed with the help of the guardian. The events of yesterday came back as a flood through her sleep-hazed mind and with them, a sudden sadness.

          "It is well, Chosen One," Jarial said, hugging Naryla lightly, "I understand more than you know."

            The Jarial embraced the girl a bit more in silence before Jarial kissed the young blonde on her cheek.

           "Ready for your breakfast?" The guardian asked as she stepped over to the tub and drew some water.

            Naryla nodded her head. Normally, she would have already been up helping her mother in getting the inn ready for another day's business. She could still smell the warm spiced ale and the potato griddlecakes her mother usually made in the morning. There was no comfort of the familiar this morning.

           The young girl's shoulders ached slightly from sleeping bound as she was and the taste of leather had made her mouth bitter. However, she stepped over to the tub and eased herself into the warm waters.

           "I cannot remove your cuffs, Chosen One," Jarial said as she stepped behind the girl, "But I can remove this gag if you promise me to be silent."

           Again, Naryla nodded and Jarial removed the pear-shaped gag.

            The guardian had already poured a cup of sweet wine for the Chosen One so she could rinse out the taste. Jarial had never really gotten used to the taste herself and she suspected that the Chosen One found it to be quite foul. Jarial eased the cup to the young woman's lips and let her sip on it as long as she wanted to. The wine tasted so cool and sweet next to the taste of the leather and Naryla swirled it around her mouth before swallowing it.

          "Better?" Jarial asked.

            Naryla smiled and nodded.

           "Now for your morning bath," the Guardian said as she got out a small pouch and poured a mixture of dried herbs and petals into the water; the smell beautifully musky and aromatic as Naryla slipped into the water.

           "Then we shall eat."

                                                                     -o0o-

         Outside, a chill dampness filled the misty air but rain had yet to fall. Everything was covered in a cold dew. Tyraal brought out the saddlebags and laid them beside the horses in the stall. Jarial wouldn't let him do anything else, partially because Tyraal viewed horses in a utilitarian way; a tool to be used not unlike his sword or gauntlet. He would take good care of any mount that he had, but that is where the relationship ended. He let Jarial do all the pampering.

         The courtyard was empty and the inn gate was still closed. There were two merchant wagons parked on the far side but the owners must have slept in or perhaps they had felt what Tyraal had felt.

         "Tyraal," Gulmon said as he turned the corner and saw the guardian standing there, "I have been looking for you."

          The concerned look on the giant's face and the large axe in his gnarled hands was all that Tyraal need to know, "What is the matter, my friend?"

          "I need you to look for yourself," Gulmon motioned for the guardian to follow.

           The Guardian turned to look back at the stairs leading up into the inn.

           "They will by safe, Tyraal. Many eyes are watching over them," Gulmon said as he opened the gate door and let down a drawbridge barely wide enough for one man.

            As the giant stepped through, one of the many wooden gargoyles uncurled itself from around a post and trotted dog-like beside Gulmon. Tyraal had heard the rumors and stories of Gulmon's animated wooden statues, but this was the first time he had ever seen one come to life.

          "Much more practical than a whining dog, my Guardian friend," Gulmon said, "And I don't have to feed them."

           "I can imagine," Tyraal said, watching in wonder and wondering why he could not sense their presence.

           The meadow on which The Horn sat like an old dowager was damp and wisps of mist drifted about the tall grasses like lazy ghosts. Soon the cold seemed to penetrate Tyraal's very soul as they marched towards the edge of the wood. It did not take Gulmon very long to find what he was looking for and pointed a thick, gnarled finger at the ground.

           "There," the giant said.

            In the moist earth was a large paw print about the size of a good-sized melon. It appeared to be traveling toward to road and toward Taloncrag. Tyraal knelt down and examined it closer.

             "Jaggats," Tyraal said and Gulmon nodded.

            "Three all told," Gulmon said, scanning the dark tangle to the forest, "They circled the Inn, I believe, all night. They have a handler as well but I could not make out much more than a small boot print or two. Perhaps a girlrider.  I have told the merchants to stay another night or two, my expense. Two stayed but another seemed to measure his life in the coin he would loose if he remained here."

          "I don't think these are after any merchant's trinkets, Gulmon."

           The giant looked at Tyraal, "I did not want to speak it, my friend."

         "I know."

          The Guardian got up and looked around, trying to descry what also lurked in the gray morning shadows.

           "We had better get back to the inn, my friend," Gulmon said and started towards The Horn, followed closely by Tyraal, sword drawn.

                                                                        -oOo-

            Jarial helped the young girl out of the bath and began to carefully dry her with one of the many soft towels. Jarial tried not to betray any sense of nervousness as she paid attention to the task at hand. The Chosen One did not seem to notice, her own turmoil of fears blindfolding her to what was going on around her. Jarial wished she could tell her more about what lay ahead at the Temple, but it was forbidden to say such things and to do so would rip through Tyraal's honor like a bloody talon. Jarial could not do that to him.

            Naryla had found that the warm bath and Jarial's deft fingers had done much to ease the aches out of her body. The whole room smelled like a morning meadow. Jarial had finished drying her and as lacing her sandals. She was glad the Guardian had not replaced the white leather gag. I was a welcome freedom from a state she had gotten used just yesterday.

The Chosen One had taken glances outside and saw the dark gray storm clouds that seemed filled with a chill vehemence. She shivered at the thought of trekking through the rains that would soon fall.

           "I have something to ward off the chill, Chosen One," Jarial said in a soft whisper as if reading Naryla's very thoughts.

              From a pouch Jarial brought out a dark blue jar. After uncorking it, she poured some of the oily ointment into her palm and then gently began to rub the warm salve over her toes and ankles. Slowly, Jarial's fingers rubbed he oil up the blonde girls legs and buttocks, a sensation that felt as warm as a tight embrace. The Guardian paid attention to every smooth curve and fold that was not encased in the strictures of her bonds. The oil had an herbal heat to it and soon the chill that had been in her bones was all but gone.

         "There, Chosen One," Jarial stood back and admired the glistening figure of the sacrifice.

           The Chosen was indeed a lovely vision. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her to the small of her back. Her legs were long and her waist narrow without looking sickly. The Chosen One's breasts were large enough to grace her figure without being too large. Jarial could imagine her oval face and blue eyes could all light up in smile when she had the chance.

           A knock at the door interrupted Jarial's thoughts. The rap was followed by Tyraal's own special knock to let Jarial know it was him. It was a code that changed in sequence every time yet neither one would forget it.

          Jarial unbolted the door and the large Guardian stepped in. The look in Tyraal's eyes told everything.

          "What is it?" Jarial asked.

           "Is the Chosen One Ready?" he asked.

           "She needs but to eat and then gagged, Tyraal," Jarial answered.

           "Then eat and then we must be off as quickly as possible. We have a lot longer journey than I had anticipated."

           "Tyraal?" Jarial asked again, "Tell me."

            The warrior sat down at the table and looked out the window, "We indeed have company, Jarial. We must take some of the old routes to the temple and those will take us further a field. It will be several days in the wilderness but I do not see that we have a choice. The safety of this one is of greatest import."

         Jarial nodded, "I agree with you, my only, but. . ."

        "Jaggats," Tyraal interrupted, knowing that Jarial was about to ask, "Three of them. I believe they tracked us here and are awaiting our departure."

          The word Jaggats sent a whirl of images spinning through Naryla's head. The large, cat-like creatures were used to scare children from wandering too far away. Elders said they used to raid farms and small villages in packs until the guardians hunted them down and drove them from the countryside. The thought that she might actually encounter such a beast sent a torrent of chills through her.

            "Are you sure?" Jarial asked, knowing the answer to it before she uttered the last word.

           "Gulmon showed me the tracks. We must hurry. I will prepare the horses while you get the Chosen One ready," Tyraal said, gathering up a few more of their belongings and headed out the door.

           Jarial locked it behind her lover before turning her attention to the Chosen one. One look at the girls face told Jarial just how terrified the girl was. The brunette cupped the girls face in her hands and looked into her eyes.

           "You will be safe, Chosen One, I swear by the Dragon. No harm will come to you. Tyraal and I have killed these beasts before. I have even seen Tyraal break one's neck with his bare hands. As long as you stay with us, no harm will come to you."