Needs of a Sorcerer

Needs of the Sorcerer

Chapter 4 Despair, Fury, and Rescue

Sylvanus sat quietly drinking his amber colored wine watching, Marathe fall soundly a sleep with his head resting on the table after only taking several bites of food, alarmed the sorcerer feared to stare into the boys’ green eyes for he dreaded to see a sudden dimming of their usual brightness… from just their first time together. Drinking the last of his amber wine in one gulp, the Sorcerer discovered his appetite had abruptly left him. So he got up from the table and headed over to the other side of the table and picked up the small shifter up into his arms like one would carry a child. He carried the boy into his bedchamber and pulled down the warm thick coverlets on the bed and laid the small white pale body down in the center of the bed on his back.

Only after brushing the soft fine white fur-like hair from falling into Marathe’s face and placing a gentle kiss to his forehead, did Sylvanus do what he dreaded to do before… he lifted each of the boy’s eyelids with their thick long alabaster lashes and peered deeply into each of the boy’s green eyes. A groaning cry of desperation came from the sorcerer as a tear formed and rolled down his cheek, for already, so very soon, Marathe’s green eyes were starting to dull ever so subtly, and it was not just from sleep. It was his hungry predatory uncontrollable elemental magick…evilly fueling its’ self with the sexually sensitive life force of another. He hated it and he hated himself for being unable to keep it from happening.

Yet there were other times when he found his magick powers overpoweringly seductive, diabolically addicting and he enjoyed welding it as a righteous tool for the king and his country. Syl once even considered gelding himself to rid himself of his sexual appetite and thus stop the resulting death of his lovers, but there was no guarantee it would work… life without sexual intimacy wasn’t much of a life… no he needed to find a permanent solution or cure. Love and Guilt seemed to be joined together in Syl’s life; it was as if he paid both a price for power and affection…a deadly price!

Poor little Marathe the shape-shifters thought he was safe and protected in Sylvanus the Sorcerer arms, perhaps he was safe from being physically hurt… but unfortunately he was not safe from the slow claws of a gradual magical death.

Sylvanus had planned that night to cuddle and make love to Marathe in bed, but now he feared to touch him again so soon for fear he would drain the boy even more. Angry that he couldn’t do like he planed, he used a simple spell to place the boy into a deeper restful sleep and gave him a slow acting restoration potion so he would remain unconscious till the following morning, when a permanent decision would need to be made, as to whether Sylvanus continued to keep the youth in his possession, even if it might mean his death. For Sylvanus wasn’t sure he could keep his hands away from the boy’s temptingly lovely body? Yet he couldn’t deal with the boy’s death on his hands either.

A blistering fury seemed overwhelm Sylvanus the Sorcerer then, he needed to get away and forget his power and his unnatural lust for a poor weaken pet that he couldn’t have without killing him in the long run. Tonight he just wanted to be a regular person, not the king’s fancy effeminate Sorcerer. Syl wanted to escape his elite position and go incognito into the shadowy dirty streets of the lower town out side the castle…. which once he called home a life time ago. And he wanted as part of it, to taste cheap bad greasy food and drink cheap beer to point of forgetfulness, maybe even gamble, gossips, argue, and fight with the local thugs just for the fun of it. It would ground him back to reality and insulate him from the gross arrogance and power that surge around him in his exalted position that often made him forget and ignore the simple enjoyment of life.

Also at the same time, for the King, he would gather as much information as he could from the local familiar riff-raff from the underbelly of the town, which he had somehow remained in contact too for years. They had no Idea that he was the kings sorcerer, yet he thought it was very likely they would know what was taking place on the borderlands to the east, for always gossip seem to flow up from the street…they might even know more than the king’s elite spies. His old lowlife-scoundrel friends knew him only, as the Raven, an infamous thief and adventurer, who was rumored to hire himself out and disappear often for months on end to do certain despicable deeds for the right price.

Sylvanus placed another gentle kiss to Marathe’s soft pink sleeping lips and then with a desperate groan he forced himself to leave and not look back, as he proceeded to his secret room, which held a multitude of various useful disguises he used from time to time over the years.

Tonight he was going out, and he wouldn’t be back till morning, unless of course if he managed to meet up with a certain select individual of certain dark supernatural persuasion, who along with his brethren often had the tendency to hide in plain sight among his low life friends, then perhaps he might remain out longer. This old acquaintance was a dangerous darkly beautiful ruthless and possessive amoral individual, who wanted more than the righteous Sylvanus was prepared to give up, even though this particular lover was in no danger from Syl’s magick. Their last meeting had ended in strong words and violence… when the sarcastic and wittily evil Terminus said they were both alike and then brutally tried to prove it by using Syl against his will and making him permanently his forever. The sorcerer fought him off with his magick, and then fled. It had been long time since their last meeting, but every now and then, when in a dark mood, Sylvanus missed their long vital conversations even more than their endless sessions of volatile mind-numbing sex.

Ooooo

A wildly laughing very drunk young man wearing a huge floppy wide rim black hat with a single large faded red feather the color of blood, the hat nearly covered his eyes. Along with outrageous hat… he dressed in a well worn once gray suede tunic and ragged pants that had seen better day several years back, and oversized ancient dusty black cloak hung carelessly over the back of his chair and wrapped around his black badly scuffed boots with seriously worn toes. The only thing shiny on the man was a shiny long dagger in its silver sheath that thrust dangerous through his wide black belt. And a single silver dangle earring with a flying raven carved from black onyx hung from one of his ear lobes.

On the young man’s lap sat a pink plump scarlet haired barmaid her bodice open to waist with one nipple exposed, who held with one hand a tankard of cheap foul tasting beer to his lips so he could drink, while her other hand played and stroked teasingly at the man’s long thick black ponytail that was just like a silken iridescent raven wings, which hung down past his waist.

“So Raven my love, why aren’t you gambling, I’ll stay with you and be your luck, then afterward, I’ll take you upstairs and keep your hard and Cumming for hours.”

“Ah Prissy, I would like that so much, but unfortunately, I lost too much already tonight, I only have enough left to pay for the last beer and your sweet present company as it is! Said the smiling laughing Raven as place his snug suede gloved hand in her bodice stroked and tweaked her large dark rose nipple and then inserted a coin deep down into her bodice. Then he laid another coin on the table for the beer. The old dusty well-worn and torn suede gloves concealed the fact the hands in question were not the true hands of a thief, but the immaculate long nailed hands of aristocrat.

The barmaid fished in her bodice for the coin he gave her… and came up with only a half silver, disappointed she sadly place a kiss to his cheek and then rose to her feet. The night was still young and she unfortunately had the need for more coins for her livelihood, yes she would miss entertaining the pretty thief.

“Come see me again, my pretty Raven, when your flushed and winning, for the feel of that long shaft of warm flesh rising hard against my bottom tells me love that I would very much like to see it and feel it, at its full length.” She smiled as she walked away toward another table full of waiting drinking customers who grinned wildly in anticipation as she approached.

The one called Raven was ready to go back it nearly dawn. Also he manage to get a small amount of information for the king that was repeated by several different individuals and sources, during various conversation over the night, with traders, traveling merchants, mercenaries, and even a few he suspected of being brigands and bandits of various kinds as well as a few individuals who knew him as Raven from previous contacts. He had done what he needed to do and as well enjoyed the distraction from his problems. He had gambled too much, drank too much, and eaten too much, but never as much as he let on, for that would be undeniably foolish and dangerous in bar such as this with its many predators. Already he felt a number of eyes studying him intently watching his every move and waiting for him to leave, not all were interest in just robbing him of coins, but of something more physical and intimate. If Terminus the dark one or his brethren were present they had yet, curiously fail to reveal themselves to him… something serious was going on with them. Soon he would use his magic to discover what and determine whither it threaten the king or country.

Raven wrapped his cloak around him, unconsciously checked the long blade at his waist, then walked over and said his farewells, to both the bartender and owner that had known Raven for years.

Then he swiftly left the tavern, as soon as stepped from the door he looked around him to see if any one waited for him in the shadows…. but there was no one lurking in sight or out of it. So quickly he made his way down the center of the dirt street making sure he stayed out of shadows, Unfortunately he had a good hour’s walk back to castle, a lot could happen between here and castle. He wasn’t really afraid for he always had his magic in a pinch, but as Raven he preferred to avoid both magick and violence if it was at all possibly, so it wouldn’t attract attention to either identity.

All at once a stunned and slightly intoxicated Raven found himself falling down in the street, when something hard and thrown struck the back of his head, he was conscious enough to be aware of seven pairs of legs circled around him getting closer and closer and then hands reached down and ruthlessly tugged at his gray pants until they were dragged down practically off his hips.

A very loud animal growl and shriek shattered the silence of the night and the hands fell away from him followed by alarmed screams and bodies backing away from him. A huge white animal suddenly materialize from the shadows, it was so white it seemed to glow in darkness, crotched in front of him blocking away his attackers. A human arm reached out toward him, instant a large white paw with very long claws left the man’s arm bleeding from elbow to finger tips. A scream of human pain followed and then he heard the sound of many fleeing running legs and he was left alone with the huge white monster that abruptly found necessary to lick his face from top to bottom in the most thorough and irritating way!

“Puss is that you seem so much bigger and your awake, why aren’t you sleeping like I left you?”

In reply came loud purr followed, by a low almost angry indignant growl, he heard a startling voice in his mind, “No foolish human I woke up for I found it necessary to save your ass! Now lets go home, before I need to rescue it again.” Huge Bright green eyes stared up at him and they even seemed, if possible, even brighter than before, as if Puss was never drained at all. There was more to this shifter than met the eye, thought Sylvanus, and it seemed to be magical in both content and flavor.

A growling laugh came from Sylvanus’ mind reading companion and again the voice came into his mind, “I think I miss your dark silken robes, My Lord Sylvanus, they are so much more becoming on you… though I do not relish that scent of another human… upon, what I consider, is my personal property…. that just wont do!”