The S and S of Calamity; Altercations
In the wake of having such a famous hero in their town, the council of Okenforde decided to celebrate the liberation of their streets. It was a two-faced celebration; one side to honor the hero who had defeated the ancient ghouls which had invaded their solace and the other side to convince Pallas that he would be very happy living within the walls of prosperity. It was the act of every other town before.
The town was glowing in defiance of the night, torches burning brightly on every wall and the main inn at the center of the town howling with the sounds of the city. Every person was present and filling the four stories with laughter, stories and joy. The drink had loosened everyone into masses of freed inhibitions and desires. It had become quite the night.
Among the endless masses of drunken people, bawdy laughter and wry glances, Cleo was unbridled. The food and the drink had taken affect on her and she was having the time of her life. Aimlessly wandering through the crowds, she gracefully avoided groping hands, slurred invitations and catcalls. However, she was wallowing in this as much as anyone. "Hah! Let me tell you something, buddy! I've known Pallas for a long time and we've known each other a long time." she howled as she leaned heavily on the nearest person. The woman, who was a tad slicked up herself, looked drowsily to this young girl speaking on things that seemed important. Cleo waved her hand through the air a few times and grinned shrewdly, her nose already showing the slightest bits of red. "Psst, I wanna ask you somethun. I know you're a guy, but don't you think Pallas is really cute? The way he swings that big sword around and around and around and…" At this point, Cleo's wording took an odd affect on her and she felt very dizzy. Her arm slipped from around the girl's shoulder and she fell to her knees, a very colorful green masquerading as a blush. In the nearest pot, with little or no grace or modesty, she vomited. It was a very eventful night for Cleo.
On the next floor down, Orphen and Majic were lounging at a table in the middle of a large dining hall. Majic was also a bit inebriated and was laying his head across his arm, his dulled eyes casting tentative glares down the table at the countless people around. With a spilled mug by his hand, he was mumbling the words to a song he had heard everyone singing as they started drinking. With so many loose spectacles and hanging morals, it was probably better that he was too blurry to notice. "This is a nice party, master. Everyone's laughing and singing and this stuff is really good." he noted while trying to get his hand onto his mug. All that mattered was that he was enjoying himself, though Orphen wasn't exactly in the same mindset as everyone else.
The liquid in the mug was staring back at him with less mercy than what it gave to Majic. This little party was indeed a nice break, but something was bothering the sorcerer. The elder had spoken to him about the great shadow which had appeared in a few of the spires above the town, an ominous and looming form which had signaled the appearance of the skeletons. There was no doubt that whatever this form was, it was going to be Orphen's next battle. However, his train of thought was broken by the sounds of a tiny voice coming from the table by his arm.
"Ahhh, what a party! Look at all those girls and their pretty hair! Iyaaaa, it's an imp's dream!"
Casting his eyes past his mug, Orphen found Chiron leaning heavily forward on his arm and looking around with lustful eyes. In one of his clawed hands was a thimble full of the ale and he had obviously been drinking it. It seemed Orphen couldn't escape the drink even if he tried. With a smirk, he pulled his arm from under the imp and sent him sprawling on the table, cursing wildly at the move. The sorcerer leaned back a bit. "Don't tell me imps get drunk too. I thought you didn't like people."
With a few ancient curses burning on his tongue, Chiron picked up his spilled thimble and then looked to the criminal. "I don't! But all this drink shouldn't go to waste. Besides, look at all the hair. So soft and shiny! Drunk girls are always the easiest to get close to!" the small creature replied and laughed devilishly. Upon inspection of his thimble, he yelled out in anger and then held a threatening claw at Orphen, the source of his troubles. "You moron! Now I need more! Go get me more drink or I'll thrash you limb from limb!"
The threats weren't taken seriously and a sigh was the only response. However, Orphen pushed his mug to the imp and shook his head, "There, drink all you want. Maybe a cat will come by and think you're a mouse while you're drunk." The insult didn't get a chance to take affect. Chiron was soon upside down in the mug, filling his stomach with ale and sending himself into a state of sheer pleasure. That was the story of the entire evening. While Chiron was drowning in the mug, Orphen's brow rose and he looked around, realizing something he hadn't noticed before. "I wonder where Pallas is."
In the midst of his wondering, he didn't hear Majic's mumbling. By now the boy had drifted to sleep, though his face was twisted with pain. His dreams were terrible and he was squirming lightly. Only one heard his soft whimpering in the depth of his nightmare. "No…Pallas…don't……Master…"
On the top floor, outside the largest, nicest room the inn had to offer, Pallas stood. The party was raging on downstairs in his honor but he hadn't even gone. This was all just reasons for his temperament. His sword was leaning against the wall in the room, but the enchanted armor was still fastened to his arm. His intention of going to the party was denied by the fact he stood in his cloth pants only, letting the cool night breeze run across his shoulders and back. This was the kind of thing he looked forward to; a starlit night, summer's breeze and the sounds of the world a wall away. Once he had accused Orphen of changing, but he was no less guilty of that. Time had aged him. Even as he stared into the endless night, his eyes filled with nothing but the darkness. No stars could shine in his eyes now. Though he accepted this night, he never expected the dawn.
"Pallas?"
The voice made him sigh at first, assuming another girl had dared to brave his room for a chance to live forever. However, this was no ordinary girl. Cleo took a step into his room slowly, gazing about with much clearer eyes. She was still a bit hazy, but her stomach's choice had ultimately freed up some of her clouded mind. Now she was worried. "Are you in here, Pallas?" When her eyes caught him, she was a bit dumbfounded. This was a celebration for him and he was staying out of it. It caught her as strange and she pressed the door closed with her back. Leaning back against the door and staring at him gave her a little time to think, a brazen red growing from the flush from the drink. Perhaps she would have reconsidered this had she been completely sober, but she didn't know if she could say that in all honesty. She was in his room alone with him. This was something a girl was not supposed to do with someone she just met. However, there was this great sadness in his eyes when she looked at him, like the deepest part of him was in pain; suffering. The fact that he didn't acknowledge her also made this worse.
After enough time, she pushed off the door and walked nimbly across his room, coming closer and closer to him. When she was close enough to see that he was shirtless, her heart stopped in her chest and she burned with embarrassment. It was as if she could go no farther.
"Enjoying the party?" he asked without moving.
His voice seemed to remind her that he was someone she actually knew and not this idol that all the girls were speaking of downstairs. Though her blush could not be forced away, she managed to find her voice well enough to answer. "Why aren't you down there? This is all for you."
"This is all for the Rune Fighter of Baloria, not me." he replied dryly.
Her face became contorted with confusion and she took another step towards him, tilting her head slightly at his answer. "I don't understand, Pallas." There was no answer, just the overwhelming silence which the night offered. With his silence, she found enough courage to venture out onto the balcony with him, letting the moonlight bathe her form with grace and beauty. Setting her hands on the rails, she watched him for any clue to his thoughts.
He simply stared out at the night. For a while it was odd, his silence and her presence. A few times she considered leaving him alone, but she found no strength in moving. He was sad and he was beautiful. He was strong and he was vulnerable. He was passionate but he was distant. It was everything combined that made her want him.
"Have you ever looked into the night and wondered if you close your eyes before the sun rises, would it be forever dark? Can I actually keep it nighttime just by closing my eyes?"
The last part was spoken more to himself, but she was stunned by his question. It was one of those questions which had no answer, but was no less important. She was beginning to worry greatly again. "Even if you close your eyes, you'll still feel the sun, Pallas. It warms your skin and makes flowers grow. You can still smell flowers when you close your eyes, right?" she offered and hugged herself at the thought of flowers and sunshine. Her own eyes closed as she imagined a warm summer day on a hillside with Pallas, basking near a stream and intimately caressing his loving face. It made a small smile dominate her face.
Pallas seemed a little estranged when he spoke, but her contribution made him smile a bit. It wasn't often that someone gave him an innocent answer. Standing straight, he looked to her slowly, "I guess you're right, Cleo. Even if we can't see it, the sun is always there."
Breaking away from the pleasant dream, she looked up at him with that same smile. The party had been stripped from her memory along with Orphen, Majic and anything that had to do with anything. Only Pallas was allowed for this brief moment in time. In all that she had done before, she had never felt this way before. Even with a certain sorcerer, she felt like it was a stupid crush which would end up harming her someday. With Pallas, she felt like she could help him with this deep pain he felt. Some might call it love, but the word meant nothing as she stared up at him. Nothing could have aptly described what she felt towards this man she had only recently met.
"Pallas?"
"Yes?"
"Why are you always alone? Every time we get into a public place, you go somewhere by yourself. Don't you like all these people admiring you?"
Her questions were slightly sharp to him, though his face didn't change within the confines of the moonlight. That which she spoke seemed to warm him and make his face soften. Even questions that seemed shallow and pointless came off her lips with a certain sincerity which caused him to adore her. However, the subject she had chosen was shadows and teardrops. "I'm glad my name can do some good in the world, but that name has grown larger than the man. When your own name eclipses you, you have to step back and decide which is the real you." he replied and let his shoulders rise and fall with the defeat in his tone. For some reason, he felt drained as he spoke, like the words pulled a part of him as they left and disappeared onto the breeze which swirled into nothing.
The touch to his bare arm nearly startled him, then caused his attention to focus on the young girl at his mercy once again. Cleo's eyes were averted from him, as if she could not dare to look into his own with the night she wanted. Her fingers slowly pushed across his arm, feeling the random scar and memory engraved in his flesh. It was that flesh which drove her. The arm which obeyed the enchanted armor lay dormant at his side, though his fist had proven the actual level of the unknown she was introducing to the night. A moment passed where he simply stared down at her, his lips pressed and his eyes barely alive. In return, she only moved her hand across his arm and stared aimlessly at his midriff. The moment lasted as they both kept away, unsure of right or reason. It was only the uncontrollable beating in Cleo's chest which founded her move.
The slender fingers which invaded his skin ran up along his bicep and shoulder, making breathless note of the deep scars and strained muscles which moved his sword. When the length of her arm became an issue, she simply stepped forward to the tall, broad body which loomed over her. Both hands began their assault across his body, sensually exploring every curve and live of the great fighter with a shaky advance that caused her hands to sometimes pause, though never retreat from him. Her eyes had closed, as if the body could only be appreciated by the touch only. A great burning sensation seared her face and the pure essence of what made her a girl. It was hard to stand still. Every muscle, tendon and bone was felt as she guided her fingers across his entire torso, her hands shaking and retreating from going any lower. By now her chest was pressing into him as she breathed heavier than she had ever breathed before. Her very body betrayed her and caused to her feel weak even as she only touched him. Breath came out across his skin as her nose brushed his chest, the tongue in her mouth unable to move in speech or action.
Pallas was lost. He stared at this young girl which such different eyes than ever before. So many had attempted such seductions, but none had ever had such an affect on him. Hers was new, unsure and sincere, which were the founding stones of his permission. His body stayed still and loose as she pushed on, trying desperately to control what was burning inside of her.
"You know not what you do, Cleo." he said in a breathless whisper. It didn't even faze her. The mind and the body were in harmony and his words only caused her to look up at him. This was the statement of her maturity, that she wasn't the stupid girl which only did things because of a selfish need for pleasure. Even without the drink, she had wanted this. No force alive could have changed what she felt for the swordsman and everything which made her a woman had led her to this.
To answer, she simply kissed his skin with a tenderness which caused his eyes to close. She wouldn't back down now, even if he tried to warn her. She had made up her mind and she was going to give herself to him.
The feeling of the cool bed on her skin caused a slight whimper to escape from her lips, but it was the separation of her lips which gave away her true intoxication. Even through her clothes, the feeling of a body settling between her legs caused every inch of her body to shudder and shake. Cleo had never felt such things come over her and it was all she could do to keep from begging this man to fulfill this desire she had for him. With the night air coming over her bare chest now, she was a fury of burning flesh. Pallas's touch and his lips over her body were forcing sounds from her that she had never heard before, much less from her own throat. As cloth fell from her body, her arms stretched out over her head and clawed at the sheets. The fire which was hottest at the crossroads of her legs was overwhelming and her bottom lip was bitten to keep the pleas from the air. Her hips shifted against him and her hands took out her frustration on the sheets until finally, the name of whom she wanted came bursting from her lips in a single, wrenching moan.
"Orphen…"
All time froze as one eye was revealed in latent moonlight, wide and broken with the name. All that could be expected from such a turn was told in that eye and the owner quaked a moment across the bed. It took Cleo a moment to realize that her body was being neglected, that the one source of her pleasure had suddenly become absent. As she finally got enough wit back to focus on the room, she noticed that it was void of anyone besides herself. Even the great sword was missing from the place along the wall. Still heaving and trying to focus her mind, Cleo sat up and pulled her shirt over a shoulder, still panting in an effort to catch up. The heat of the moment had drowned out her sin, so the sudden disappearance of Pallas came as a bit of a surprise. With skin flushed like a peach, Cleo looked to the open window and bit her lower lip. A thousand questions attacked her but her mind could not slow to address them. The night held all answers.
The ruins provided a needed relief for those evading life. The plants grew over the scars of the past and hid the true structure of the lost buildings, giving the place and unholy green glow in the depths of the night. It was the one place where the Rune Fighter of Baloria could go before he unleashed his malcontent on the world. Standing tall on a crumbling tower, he stood with his sword sheathed in hand, his chin lifted and his eyes cast out into the night. There was no loss in a pride that was beaten under the tongues of others, so his face was cold as ever. The night air cooled his skin and the sweat became like ice across his body, reminding him just why the night was forsaken to the lover. But in the furthest depths of his eyes, there was a dire pain lingering on his every breath.
Within an instant, the sword was taken a quarter from the scabbard and the swordsman turned a sharp eye to the darkness behind him where a great shadow loomed. The source of all the evil which befell the town stared out with red eyes, still unmoving towards this man. Pallas stared a moment with a great eye, then slowly sheathed the blade and stood slack. "It's unwise to sneak up like that. I may take your head the next time."
A throaty voice called back with an unnatural amount of respect for the swordsman, "Forgive me, Pallas, but time runs short. I want the sorcerer's power. Let me eat his bones and chew his flesh." Pallas turned his eye from the beast and stared out into the night, portraying his night over and over again. For the longest time, he did not answer the beast, as if some great thing pulled at his mind and threatened to rip the ground out from under him. The beast seemed to be restless and stirred, which only made Pallas seem more ominous to the night.
"Soon. Tomorrow will be the day a name changes forever. Tomorrow, you may eat the bones of Orphen and digest his power. He'll never see it coming."
The foul plan was spoken with no regret or thought of any kind. Friendships and love were just things to be admired in their time and then be thrown against the rocks when the time came. Pallas had learned that this night. Looking wistfully at the enchanted armor on his arm, the light reflected caused his eyes to seem sad and empty, just as his heart had become. The beast lingered a moment and caught its master's attention. The words were far more devious than before. "The young boy has seen our deeds. He will warn the sorcerer." Pallas instantly knew exactly what this problem meant and slowly looked across the valley to the lighted city. Now light gave him no beauty, only a putrid darkness which consumed his entire face. Majic's interference would not do. It was far too easy for Pallas to speak the next order.
"Then kill him."
In the wake of having such a famous hero in their town, the council of Okenforde decided to celebrate the liberation of their streets. It was a two-faced celebration; one side to honor the hero who had defeated the ancient ghouls which had invaded their solace and the other side to convince Pallas that he would be very happy living within the walls of prosperity. It was the act of every other town before.
The town was glowing in defiance of the night, torches burning brightly on every wall and the main inn at the center of the town howling with the sounds of the city. Every person was present and filling the four stories with laughter, stories and joy. The drink had loosened everyone into masses of freed inhibitions and desires. It had become quite the night.
Among the endless masses of drunken people, bawdy laughter and wry glances, Cleo was unbridled. The food and the drink had taken affect on her and she was having the time of her life. Aimlessly wandering through the crowds, she gracefully avoided groping hands, slurred invitations and catcalls. However, she was wallowing in this as much as anyone. "Hah! Let me tell you something, buddy! I've known Pallas for a long time and we've known each other a long time." she howled as she leaned heavily on the nearest person. The woman, who was a tad slicked up herself, looked drowsily to this young girl speaking on things that seemed important. Cleo waved her hand through the air a few times and grinned shrewdly, her nose already showing the slightest bits of red. "Psst, I wanna ask you somethun. I know you're a guy, but don't you think Pallas is really cute? The way he swings that big sword around and around and around and…" At this point, Cleo's wording took an odd affect on her and she felt very dizzy. Her arm slipped from around the girl's shoulder and she fell to her knees, a very colorful green masquerading as a blush. In the nearest pot, with little or no grace or modesty, she vomited. It was a very eventful night for Cleo.
On the next floor down, Orphen and Majic were lounging at a table in the middle of a large dining hall. Majic was also a bit inebriated and was laying his head across his arm, his dulled eyes casting tentative glares down the table at the countless people around. With a spilled mug by his hand, he was mumbling the words to a song he had heard everyone singing as they started drinking. With so many loose spectacles and hanging morals, it was probably better that he was too blurry to notice. "This is a nice party, master. Everyone's laughing and singing and this stuff is really good." he noted while trying to get his hand onto his mug. All that mattered was that he was enjoying himself, though Orphen wasn't exactly in the same mindset as everyone else.
The liquid in the mug was staring back at him with less mercy than what it gave to Majic. This little party was indeed a nice break, but something was bothering the sorcerer. The elder had spoken to him about the great shadow which had appeared in a few of the spires above the town, an ominous and looming form which had signaled the appearance of the skeletons. There was no doubt that whatever this form was, it was going to be Orphen's next battle. However, his train of thought was broken by the sounds of a tiny voice coming from the table by his arm.
"Ahhh, what a party! Look at all those girls and their pretty hair! Iyaaaa, it's an imp's dream!"
Casting his eyes past his mug, Orphen found Chiron leaning heavily forward on his arm and looking around with lustful eyes. In one of his clawed hands was a thimble full of the ale and he had obviously been drinking it. It seemed Orphen couldn't escape the drink even if he tried. With a smirk, he pulled his arm from under the imp and sent him sprawling on the table, cursing wildly at the move. The sorcerer leaned back a bit. "Don't tell me imps get drunk too. I thought you didn't like people."
With a few ancient curses burning on his tongue, Chiron picked up his spilled thimble and then looked to the criminal. "I don't! But all this drink shouldn't go to waste. Besides, look at all the hair. So soft and shiny! Drunk girls are always the easiest to get close to!" the small creature replied and laughed devilishly. Upon inspection of his thimble, he yelled out in anger and then held a threatening claw at Orphen, the source of his troubles. "You moron! Now I need more! Go get me more drink or I'll thrash you limb from limb!"
The threats weren't taken seriously and a sigh was the only response. However, Orphen pushed his mug to the imp and shook his head, "There, drink all you want. Maybe a cat will come by and think you're a mouse while you're drunk." The insult didn't get a chance to take affect. Chiron was soon upside down in the mug, filling his stomach with ale and sending himself into a state of sheer pleasure. That was the story of the entire evening. While Chiron was drowning in the mug, Orphen's brow rose and he looked around, realizing something he hadn't noticed before. "I wonder where Pallas is."
In the midst of his wondering, he didn't hear Majic's mumbling. By now the boy had drifted to sleep, though his face was twisted with pain. His dreams were terrible and he was squirming lightly. Only one heard his soft whimpering in the depth of his nightmare. "No…Pallas…don't……Master…"
On the top floor, outside the largest, nicest room the inn had to offer, Pallas stood. The party was raging on downstairs in his honor but he hadn't even gone. This was all just reasons for his temperament. His sword was leaning against the wall in the room, but the enchanted armor was still fastened to his arm. His intention of going to the party was denied by the fact he stood in his cloth pants only, letting the cool night breeze run across his shoulders and back. This was the kind of thing he looked forward to; a starlit night, summer's breeze and the sounds of the world a wall away. Once he had accused Orphen of changing, but he was no less guilty of that. Time had aged him. Even as he stared into the endless night, his eyes filled with nothing but the darkness. No stars could shine in his eyes now. Though he accepted this night, he never expected the dawn.
"Pallas?"
The voice made him sigh at first, assuming another girl had dared to brave his room for a chance to live forever. However, this was no ordinary girl. Cleo took a step into his room slowly, gazing about with much clearer eyes. She was still a bit hazy, but her stomach's choice had ultimately freed up some of her clouded mind. Now she was worried. "Are you in here, Pallas?" When her eyes caught him, she was a bit dumbfounded. This was a celebration for him and he was staying out of it. It caught her as strange and she pressed the door closed with her back. Leaning back against the door and staring at him gave her a little time to think, a brazen red growing from the flush from the drink. Perhaps she would have reconsidered this had she been completely sober, but she didn't know if she could say that in all honesty. She was in his room alone with him. This was something a girl was not supposed to do with someone she just met. However, there was this great sadness in his eyes when she looked at him, like the deepest part of him was in pain; suffering. The fact that he didn't acknowledge her also made this worse.
After enough time, she pushed off the door and walked nimbly across his room, coming closer and closer to him. When she was close enough to see that he was shirtless, her heart stopped in her chest and she burned with embarrassment. It was as if she could go no farther.
"Enjoying the party?" he asked without moving.
His voice seemed to remind her that he was someone she actually knew and not this idol that all the girls were speaking of downstairs. Though her blush could not be forced away, she managed to find her voice well enough to answer. "Why aren't you down there? This is all for you."
"This is all for the Rune Fighter of Baloria, not me." he replied dryly.
Her face became contorted with confusion and she took another step towards him, tilting her head slightly at his answer. "I don't understand, Pallas." There was no answer, just the overwhelming silence which the night offered. With his silence, she found enough courage to venture out onto the balcony with him, letting the moonlight bathe her form with grace and beauty. Setting her hands on the rails, she watched him for any clue to his thoughts.
He simply stared out at the night. For a while it was odd, his silence and her presence. A few times she considered leaving him alone, but she found no strength in moving. He was sad and he was beautiful. He was strong and he was vulnerable. He was passionate but he was distant. It was everything combined that made her want him.
"Have you ever looked into the night and wondered if you close your eyes before the sun rises, would it be forever dark? Can I actually keep it nighttime just by closing my eyes?"
The last part was spoken more to himself, but she was stunned by his question. It was one of those questions which had no answer, but was no less important. She was beginning to worry greatly again. "Even if you close your eyes, you'll still feel the sun, Pallas. It warms your skin and makes flowers grow. You can still smell flowers when you close your eyes, right?" she offered and hugged herself at the thought of flowers and sunshine. Her own eyes closed as she imagined a warm summer day on a hillside with Pallas, basking near a stream and intimately caressing his loving face. It made a small smile dominate her face.
Pallas seemed a little estranged when he spoke, but her contribution made him smile a bit. It wasn't often that someone gave him an innocent answer. Standing straight, he looked to her slowly, "I guess you're right, Cleo. Even if we can't see it, the sun is always there."
Breaking away from the pleasant dream, she looked up at him with that same smile. The party had been stripped from her memory along with Orphen, Majic and anything that had to do with anything. Only Pallas was allowed for this brief moment in time. In all that she had done before, she had never felt this way before. Even with a certain sorcerer, she felt like it was a stupid crush which would end up harming her someday. With Pallas, she felt like she could help him with this deep pain he felt. Some might call it love, but the word meant nothing as she stared up at him. Nothing could have aptly described what she felt towards this man she had only recently met.
"Pallas?"
"Yes?"
"Why are you always alone? Every time we get into a public place, you go somewhere by yourself. Don't you like all these people admiring you?"
Her questions were slightly sharp to him, though his face didn't change within the confines of the moonlight. That which she spoke seemed to warm him and make his face soften. Even questions that seemed shallow and pointless came off her lips with a certain sincerity which caused him to adore her. However, the subject she had chosen was shadows and teardrops. "I'm glad my name can do some good in the world, but that name has grown larger than the man. When your own name eclipses you, you have to step back and decide which is the real you." he replied and let his shoulders rise and fall with the defeat in his tone. For some reason, he felt drained as he spoke, like the words pulled a part of him as they left and disappeared onto the breeze which swirled into nothing.
The touch to his bare arm nearly startled him, then caused his attention to focus on the young girl at his mercy once again. Cleo's eyes were averted from him, as if she could not dare to look into his own with the night she wanted. Her fingers slowly pushed across his arm, feeling the random scar and memory engraved in his flesh. It was that flesh which drove her. The arm which obeyed the enchanted armor lay dormant at his side, though his fist had proven the actual level of the unknown she was introducing to the night. A moment passed where he simply stared down at her, his lips pressed and his eyes barely alive. In return, she only moved her hand across his arm and stared aimlessly at his midriff. The moment lasted as they both kept away, unsure of right or reason. It was only the uncontrollable beating in Cleo's chest which founded her move.
The slender fingers which invaded his skin ran up along his bicep and shoulder, making breathless note of the deep scars and strained muscles which moved his sword. When the length of her arm became an issue, she simply stepped forward to the tall, broad body which loomed over her. Both hands began their assault across his body, sensually exploring every curve and live of the great fighter with a shaky advance that caused her hands to sometimes pause, though never retreat from him. Her eyes had closed, as if the body could only be appreciated by the touch only. A great burning sensation seared her face and the pure essence of what made her a girl. It was hard to stand still. Every muscle, tendon and bone was felt as she guided her fingers across his entire torso, her hands shaking and retreating from going any lower. By now her chest was pressing into him as she breathed heavier than she had ever breathed before. Her very body betrayed her and caused to her feel weak even as she only touched him. Breath came out across his skin as her nose brushed his chest, the tongue in her mouth unable to move in speech or action.
Pallas was lost. He stared at this young girl which such different eyes than ever before. So many had attempted such seductions, but none had ever had such an affect on him. Hers was new, unsure and sincere, which were the founding stones of his permission. His body stayed still and loose as she pushed on, trying desperately to control what was burning inside of her.
"You know not what you do, Cleo." he said in a breathless whisper. It didn't even faze her. The mind and the body were in harmony and his words only caused her to look up at him. This was the statement of her maturity, that she wasn't the stupid girl which only did things because of a selfish need for pleasure. Even without the drink, she had wanted this. No force alive could have changed what she felt for the swordsman and everything which made her a woman had led her to this.
To answer, she simply kissed his skin with a tenderness which caused his eyes to close. She wouldn't back down now, even if he tried to warn her. She had made up her mind and she was going to give herself to him.
The feeling of the cool bed on her skin caused a slight whimper to escape from her lips, but it was the separation of her lips which gave away her true intoxication. Even through her clothes, the feeling of a body settling between her legs caused every inch of her body to shudder and shake. Cleo had never felt such things come over her and it was all she could do to keep from begging this man to fulfill this desire she had for him. With the night air coming over her bare chest now, she was a fury of burning flesh. Pallas's touch and his lips over her body were forcing sounds from her that she had never heard before, much less from her own throat. As cloth fell from her body, her arms stretched out over her head and clawed at the sheets. The fire which was hottest at the crossroads of her legs was overwhelming and her bottom lip was bitten to keep the pleas from the air. Her hips shifted against him and her hands took out her frustration on the sheets until finally, the name of whom she wanted came bursting from her lips in a single, wrenching moan.
"Orphen…"
All time froze as one eye was revealed in latent moonlight, wide and broken with the name. All that could be expected from such a turn was told in that eye and the owner quaked a moment across the bed. It took Cleo a moment to realize that her body was being neglected, that the one source of her pleasure had suddenly become absent. As she finally got enough wit back to focus on the room, she noticed that it was void of anyone besides herself. Even the great sword was missing from the place along the wall. Still heaving and trying to focus her mind, Cleo sat up and pulled her shirt over a shoulder, still panting in an effort to catch up. The heat of the moment had drowned out her sin, so the sudden disappearance of Pallas came as a bit of a surprise. With skin flushed like a peach, Cleo looked to the open window and bit her lower lip. A thousand questions attacked her but her mind could not slow to address them. The night held all answers.
The ruins provided a needed relief for those evading life. The plants grew over the scars of the past and hid the true structure of the lost buildings, giving the place and unholy green glow in the depths of the night. It was the one place where the Rune Fighter of Baloria could go before he unleashed his malcontent on the world. Standing tall on a crumbling tower, he stood with his sword sheathed in hand, his chin lifted and his eyes cast out into the night. There was no loss in a pride that was beaten under the tongues of others, so his face was cold as ever. The night air cooled his skin and the sweat became like ice across his body, reminding him just why the night was forsaken to the lover. But in the furthest depths of his eyes, there was a dire pain lingering on his every breath.
Within an instant, the sword was taken a quarter from the scabbard and the swordsman turned a sharp eye to the darkness behind him where a great shadow loomed. The source of all the evil which befell the town stared out with red eyes, still unmoving towards this man. Pallas stared a moment with a great eye, then slowly sheathed the blade and stood slack. "It's unwise to sneak up like that. I may take your head the next time."
A throaty voice called back with an unnatural amount of respect for the swordsman, "Forgive me, Pallas, but time runs short. I want the sorcerer's power. Let me eat his bones and chew his flesh." Pallas turned his eye from the beast and stared out into the night, portraying his night over and over again. For the longest time, he did not answer the beast, as if some great thing pulled at his mind and threatened to rip the ground out from under him. The beast seemed to be restless and stirred, which only made Pallas seem more ominous to the night.
"Soon. Tomorrow will be the day a name changes forever. Tomorrow, you may eat the bones of Orphen and digest his power. He'll never see it coming."
The foul plan was spoken with no regret or thought of any kind. Friendships and love were just things to be admired in their time and then be thrown against the rocks when the time came. Pallas had learned that this night. Looking wistfully at the enchanted armor on his arm, the light reflected caused his eyes to seem sad and empty, just as his heart had become. The beast lingered a moment and caught its master's attention. The words were far more devious than before. "The young boy has seen our deeds. He will warn the sorcerer." Pallas instantly knew exactly what this problem meant and slowly looked across the valley to the lighted city. Now light gave him no beauty, only a putrid darkness which consumed his entire face. Majic's interference would not do. It was far too easy for Pallas to speak the next order.
"Then kill him."