AN: I just wanted to bring up that I find it funny nobody brought up that Feliks listened to Luella when she said they should go around the mountain that everybody thinks is cursed, instead of through it. I mean that's how you avoid a horror movie right there.
"Hey Ianthe, what's wrong with your hair?"
"Hm?" asked the mercenary, looking up from her still cooking breakfast.
"Your hair," continued Luella pointing to the base of her of own scalp. It's different here.
"Oh, that," said Ianthe after a moment of confusion and running her hand up to the roots of her hair that were coming in a bright sunlight blonde. "I ran out of bleach."
"You bleach your hair? But your eyelashes are silver too," said the petite elf in confusion.
"I bleached those too," said Ianthe.
"With what?"
By way of reply Ianthe tossed an empty bone container to Luella. The elf opened it and coughed, scrunching up her face and eyes watering. She quickly screwed the cap back on.
"You had this by your eyes ?" asked the elf incredulous.
"I'm careful when I do it, don't worry too much little teacher."
"But that can't be safe," protested the elf.
"Neither is riding a dragon, but nobody protests that," quipped Ianthe.
"Well that's because Maximus would eat them," offered Luella. By way of reply Ianthe clacked her teeth together at the petite elf.
"So naturally then, your hair is like mine?"
"Brighter, really bright yellow, like spun gold."
"We're like sisters!" exclaimed Luella happily.
"Not quite. I'm not as cute as you little teacher," said Ianthe, pinching the elfin woman's cheek.
"You can stop now," said Luella, patience running thin as Ianthe continued to pinch and pull her cheek like an annoying relative.
"I could," conceded Ianthe, but continued to pull at Luella's cheek, the elf clearly no longer amused by it.
"Am I interrupting something?" asked Feliks walking up and Ianthe gave Luella's face one more pinch before letting go.
"No," said Ianthe, ignoring the hostile look from the petite elf as she massaged at her cheeks. "Nice to see that you could get up," continued the mercenary.
"Well I'm not used to doing that much exercise in the morning. Thank god for slings," said Feliks gesturing to the AK had he slung across his back as he massaged his arms. Ianthe had done pushups, and all manner of exercises until she was sure that the Soviet was going to puke. She had to give him credit though, he never once complained or did anything but give it his all.
"You couldn't even hold yourself up anymore," said Ianthe with a cocky grin. "Don't have a machine for that yet do you?"
"Oh give it a couple of years blondie," said Feliks and Ianthe scowled.
"Why is everyone obsessed with my hair?" muttered the mercenary.
"Because it's new and new things are cool," said the Soviet smiling, before his eyes fell on Luella.
"Luella I thought that we agreed no more chocolate in the morning."
"No. You said that. I acknowledged that you said it," said Luella defiantly eating another piece of the chocolate bar in her hands.
"Well I was serious, that isn't good for you. Hand it over," demanded Feliks reaching for the bar and stopping short as Luella crumpled the wrapper around the bar and shoved it down her shirt into the valley between her breasts. A triumphant look on her face.
That look turned to outright shock as Ianthe reached her hand down the front of her shirt and pulled out the chocolate bar, handing it to Feliks.
"I'm not a man, so don't try that around me," warned the mercenary. "You need to show more respect to Feliks and the Soviets. I don't want to be stern with you, but I will if I have to be."
"That was a bad touch," mumbled Luella hugging at her chest in shock, making Ianthe's ice chip blue eyes widen in surprise, before the mercenary burst out laughing. Doubling over and clutching at her stomach, tears of mirth filling her eyes as she laughed high and clear, betraying her elvish heritage as she laughed as only elves can laugh, causing Luella to laugh as well.
"Hey Ianthe, could you come and get Maximus to move? He's sunning himself on the tank and Dima can't get in unless he moves."
"Of course my lord," said Ianthe wiping at her eyes and following Feliks to the sleeping dragon.
"See you later shol moraes!" called out Luella cheerfully to Ianthe as she left, causing the mercenary's eyes to widen before she smiled and waved back to Luella.
"You as well little teacher."
"What did she call you?" asked Feliks, knowing practically no elvish.
"She called me big sister," said Ianthe still smiling.
"Well that's nice," said Feliks and Ianthe shook her head in amusement at the Soviet's ignorance.
"It's more than nice Feliks, it's an honor. An elf will do anything for family."
"That's pretty special then," admitted the Soviet.
"It is."
"Mind if ask you a question Ianthe?"
"Of course my Lord, go ahead."
"So what was with the bleach?" asked Feliks curiously. "That seemed like some pretty harsh stuff to use."
"Elves have blonde hair," was all Ianthe said and Feliks didn't pry any further.
When Ianthe had coaxed Maximus off of the tank and was ready for her morning flight she was securing her steel breastplate, but having trouble reaching the leather straps at the back, so Feliks tightened them up for her.
"There you go, all good," said Feliks and was surprised when Ianthe turned around and reached up, fixing his collar that had turned up without him noticing. Flattening and smoothing it, then doing up one of his breast pockets that he had left undone.
"Can't have the officer looking sloppy my Lord," said Ianthe, before mounting up and taking into the air with a snap of leathery wings.
xxx
Abram was struggling to keep pace with the Lieutenant as they searched through the forest for signs of the pilot who had ejected, but so far they had found no signs of him.
Lieutenant Volkov moved through the dense undergrowth like another might on a paved sidewalk, seemingly heedless of the branches that pulled and tugged at them as they moved. He was also unnervingly quiet, nearly silent as he moved through the bush. If Abram hadn't been watching him, he would have sworn that the Lieutenant wasn't with them. He had also ditched his steel helmet for a floppy brimmed bush hat and called listening halts fairly frequently which suited the Ukrianian marksman just fine, since it gave them time to rest. He had made them all cam up though, which was slightly annoying, but expected. The camouflage paint always stained Abram's skin and seemingly refused to come off.
One would have assumed that Abram would have been able to keep pace with the Lieutenant easily enough, being an experienced hunter himself having spent time hunting wolves east of the Urals with his uncle when he had been sent to visit his cousins. Yet even with his experience, he was like a clumsy oaf compared to the Lieutenant.
Whereas Abram tried to place his feet carefully and minimize sound, Volkov seemed to glide across the ground like some kind of malevolent shadow. Blending into the gloom of the forest as if he was merging with the shadows cast by the long branches overhead.
They'd spent most of the day searching, just as they had the past three days. The pilot would know that if he wanted to be found he would have to stay near the crash site, but if there was something else looking for him, maybe he had kept on the move. If he was still alive at all that is.
They'd found the remains of the aircraft, but the pilot hadn't been inside, or rather near what had remained of the MiG. They'd spent a long time searching the immediate area, before coming to the conclusion that he had moved on.
They searched outwards in ever widening circles with that girl mercenary and dragon circling overhead, looking for any signs of the pilot, but so far even they had been unable to find the pilot, though she had found a parachute stuck in the trees and so they had once again based their search from that point.
"Fucking feet man," cursed Averin, the gray-eyed Soviet taking off his boots and soaked socks, shaking them out as they stopped for a quick meal.
"You were the one who thought he saw something on the other side of the marsh," said Vitsin, the blonde medic eating a granola bar and watching water pour out of the boot.
"Yeah, but I thought that if we had found this pilot we'd be done and could head back to the BTRs."
"You just don't like walking," countered Abram.
"I didn't go to art school to go on nature walks," muttered Averin bitterly.
"Why did you go to art school anyways?" asked Vitsin.
"To learn cosmetics. Not that kind," said Abram defensively, noticing the look that the small Ukrainian marksman and blonde medic gave each other.
"Then what?" asked Abram.
"The movie kind. You know the makeup and masks that they wear? Like werewolves and stuff like that? I want to do that. Always liked drawing in school and I liked making sculptures so doing it for a living sounded pretty awesome to me. Just doing the army thing because I have to really, few more months and I'm never going to have to sleep under a tarp in the middle of winter again. Fuck I hate that," said Averin emphatically.
"You should be hating your wet feet," said Feliks walking up and everyone sat up straight. Averin almost jumped when the Lieutenant grabbed his foot and looked at it.
"You're going to fuck your feet if you walk around in wet boots all day," said the Lieutenant casually, but there was an air about his that made Averin want to do nothing but keep him in a good mood. Like he was a stalking predator waiting to lash out.
"Yes Lieutenant," said Averin.
"Do you have any spare socks?" asked Feliks.
"No Lieutenant," said Averin, feeling uneasy as the blood red haired Lieutenant sighed through his nose, before reaching back into his pack and pulling out a pair of socks, tossing them to him.
"Make sure that your feet are dry before you put them on," cautioned the Lieutenant, before taking Averin's boots, loosening the laces, and taking the soles out.
"Vitsin, you still carrying around that old newspaper?"
"Yes Lieutenant."
"Pass it here," said Feliks and when he had the paper, he wadded it up and stuffed it into Averin's boots.
"Should take most of the moisture out if we just wait awhile," said Feliks looking at his watch. "I doubt that we're going to find him today anyways. Haven't seen a goddamned thing yet. Alright, half hour break, at least two men on watch with boots on and rifles ready. Wake me when it's time to go," said Feliks laying down against a tree and pulling his field cap low over his eyes after taking off his boots and socks. Kalashnikov resting in his hands as he napped.
Xxx
Ianthe was hot, sweaty, and irritated. The temperature was scorching today and it beat down on her steel and wool encased form. Even flying on the back of Maximus did little to escape the heat in their endless search to find some man who piloted one of the flying machines the Soviet's called Migs.
Ianthe had her steel helmet on the bank next to her as she splashed water from the river onto her face and rubbed away the sweat and grit. How she longed for the bathes of Messalon, especially the one in her manse that drew from the hotspring flowing beneath it. A chance to strip out of her woolen leathers and steel to have a few hours with which to bathe, truly bathe and get the stink of the road off of her. Or even the showers of the Soviets and their access to hot water, or freezing cold on demand.
Ianthe liked to be clean. She didn't mind having to live life in the field or a siege camp and had grown accustomed to doing so, but she liked to practice good hygiene. Too many great warriors had died of their own filth rather than their enemies blades. Refusing to treat a 'scratch' or even clean it out as some sort of test of bravado and falling ill and then finally dead to infection. Plus, Ianthe was a girl, but more than that a woman.
She liked to watch men box, go to the chariot races, and compete in the Free Games when she had the time, but she also had more feminine tendencies. At home her dresses would smell of lavender, her breath of crisp mint, and her body of whatever perfume caught her fancy for the day. Here, she would settle for just not smelling like drunken beggar.
The cool water brought welcome relief as she splashed in on her face, but a huff from Maximus as he rose to his haunches put her on alert. She looked further up the river and felt revulsion as she saw corpses floating downstream.
Ianthe looked down at the water cupped in her hands and threw it down, flailing her hands in disgust as if insects were crawling across them. Wiping at her hair with a cloth and trying to get every last drop of water off of her.
They were fresh corpses Ianthe realized. Maybe being in the river since last night at most, but terrible wounds on their bodies as if someone had hacked at them with heavy steel blades. Either greatswords or else axes judging by the wounds, and severed limbs. Pieces of debris and lumber mixed in amongst the corpses. Had a building also collapsed into the river?
Ianthe had just resolved to hurry back to Feliks and the others when she saw one odd corpse in the river. It looked like it was whole and it was slumped over a larger board in the river. Ianthe took a half step back as the corpse opened her eyes and looked at her, raising her head weakly.
Ianthe ran to Maximus and grabbed a rope out of the saddlebags, before making a quick lasso and managing to toss it around the woman. She pulled her in towards the shore, wading into the shallows of the slow moving water and grabbed hold of the woman, mindful of the fearsome looking gashes on her back.
Ianthe set her down on her stomach so as to not aggravate her injuries, looking for her bandages and poultices so she could treat the young woman who was maybe in her mid 20s. As Ianthe made to apply a salve to the woman's back to prevent any further bleeding or infection, she was surprised as the woman grabbed onto the front of her woolen vest with strength that only the desperate or possessed had.
"You have to help them," said the woman with remarkable strength for her condition, before her gray eyes rolled back inside her head and she lost consciousness. Ianthe grabbed hold of the woman as she slumped forwards and slung her across Maximus' back, securing her, before taking to the sky.
Xxx
Feliks watched as the golden light died away and the nasty looking gashes on the woman's back closed as if they had never been there. She had long dark hair and quite frankly in his opinion, was beautiful.
Ianthe had brought her back on Maximus surprising them, but Luella had been all too eager to help as she always was when someone was in need of aid.
They threw a blanket over top of her since they had removed what tatters of her clothes had remained, bloodstained and soaked had they been. Both for decency's sake and for warmth since being in the river for so long, then on the back of a dragon had lowered her body temperature to near dangerous levels.
Slowly, the woman let out a low groan and her eyes fluttered open for a moment, before closing as if the woman had woken up from a pleasant sleep that she wished to return to. She stayed like that for a matter of heartbeats, before her eyes shot open and she bolted upright.
"The children!" exclaimed the woman, before looking around in confusion. "W-where am I?" asked the dark haired woman in confusion, looking around the tent that they had brought her into. Clutching the blanket around herself as her raven tresses fell in gentle waves past her shoulders.
"Ianthe found you in the river amongst the dead and brought you back here for treatment. Luella, the elf here was the one who treated you."
"Hi!" said Luella cheerily with a wave.
"My name is Senior Lieutenant Feliks Volkov of the Red Army of the Soviet Union. We brought you back to our camp, you're safe now."
"So, there are more of you?" asked the woman hopefully.
"There are," said Feliks.
"Thank the creators," said the woman sounding relieved. "You are the mottled men yes? I've heard about you and your strength. We have to go quickly to Riverbend. We may be too late already, but if we leave now we might get there in time," said the woman trying to stand, but seeming to have a spell of dizziness almost falling down, the petite elf Luella catching and steadying her.
"You can't move around," chastised the elf concerned. "You were almost dead when I healed you and I did what I could, but you still have to rest. You need time to recover or you'll drop from exhaustion."
The raven haired woman was breathing heavily and her eyes glazed over for a moment as Luella helped her lay back down on the cot they had set her upon. She laid like that for a minute, before she seemed to regain enough strength to speak again.
"I need your help," she finally said, looking at Feliks. "A man came to the village the other day seeking shelter. We thought nothing of it since the Bishop of the area resides in Riverbend and it has the largest temple with altars to many gods and spare rooms for the needy. We're always getting travelers and vagabonds seeking shelter and aid. The man seemed normal, was even polite when I brought him supper and a fresh change of clothes. He thanked me. I am just a junior priestess so my duties require me to look after those who stay in the temple. Not that I wouldn't do so even if it wasn't my duty. But that man...he wasn't a man."
"What do you mean?" asked Feliks.
"I mean...he wasn't human. He wasn't elvish, wasn't an orc, wasn't...holy," continued the woman, voice thickening with fear as she talked about it. He murdered the bishop and I found him...eating his flesh when I went to change the candles at the altars. His eyes, they had no soul in them when he looked at me. I screamed when I saw him. I screamed and I ran, but he followed me. I ran to the town square calling for help, begging for it and the men came to help. They know me and the bishop and they came to help me, but that...that thing just laughed when they picked up their axes and harpoons. Then he killed them, laughing as he did. He struck me across the back and injured me, but didn't kill me. I...I think he wanted me to watch what he did next. He didn't stop with the men though, he went for their wives, and their children too. His strength was not that of a mortal being and I tried to get help, to light the signal fire and call the lord's banners. Riverbend sits on the river itself, with settlements on either side and it spans the gap in between with bridges and huts. I was on one of those bridges when he ripped it from its mooring and cast me into the river. I held onto my life and a timber hoping that I could find help, but now I have," said the woman, something like mania making its way into her eyes and voice.
"You can help. You can stop him and save the villagers. Riverbend is easy to find and with the strength of the mottled men helping I'm sure-"
"I'm sorry, but we have our own mission that we have to complete. We can't help you," said Feliks, watching as the priestess' face fell.
"But, but surely you can at least go to the village? There are children there, little children. Please, if nothing else do it for them."
"I'm sorry ma'am, but I can't deviate from my orders."
"But...but, I," mumbled the woman, seemingly unable to comprehend what she was hearing.
"Ser Knight, surely you will help? A draconian knight would surely have the power to save Riverbend," said the Priestess, turning to Ianthe in desperate hope. "The gods will surely reward you for your bravery."
"I fight for silver Priestess, not faith," said Ianthe bluntly.
"But, I thought...you're a mercenary correct? From the free cities? There's money in the temple. Silver idols and we have a modest sum of money from donations. Please, you can take as much as you can carry, all of it if you'll just help. Please, they're good people, I'm begging you to help. If it's money that you want, I'm sure that they'd reward you themselves as well. You could make a lot of money if that's what you want."
"I also already have a contract Priestess and I don't break contracts. I also doubt that there's much left of anything in your village if what you've told is even half true. Plus night is coming and I'm not looking to fight a monster in the dark."
"But...but...this," continued the Priestess, looking as if she was going to go into hysterics, before becoming eerily calm. She stood then, shakily, but she brought herself to her full height and looked Feliks in the eyes. Her gray eyes resolute and determined.
"I've been a member of the church since I was a little girl and am forbidden to lay with another, but I know how men gaze at me. Because of how I look, they always look at me with a hunger, even if they already have wives and they know it's a sin to covet another. I know that they look at me so because they want me to warm their beds," continued the woman and let the blanket she had wrapped around her shoulders fall to the ground, leaving her bare and naked.
She was fit and toned with large, but firm breasts, slender curves, and long legs. Her face was pretty, beautiful even and her body was unmarked by scars or any blemishes that Feliks could see and a little tuft of dark hair sat neatly above her sex.
"I have nothing left to barter with but my body. If you'll help them, you may use me however you wish my lord," said the priestess emotionless. "I do not have experience, but no man has touched me before. You would be the first." Something like rage flashed across Ianthe's face at the actions of the Priestess, but other than clenching her fists, the Messalonian didn't do anything.
"It doesn't matter what you offer me, because I can't help you. I don't have the authority to deviate from my mission or use Soviet resources for secondary operations. I'm sorry, but we're not going to Riverbend."
"But...but then...they're all going to die," said the priestess tearfully, falling heavily to her knees and beginning to weep. Luella going to her side and putting the blanket back across her shoulders which the priestess drew tight around herself, shaking in grief.
Xxx
"So how's our guest doing?"
"Well she's still sleeping," said Boris. "She looked just about dead when Ianthe brought her in the other day, so I guess that it's an improvement. Luella's been taking care of her and I've been keeping the men well away. You know how it is with the boys when they've been on the road for a few weeks without any girls around. They see one and they all start thinking with their pricks. It was bad enough with just Luella and Ianthe, but with this one," said Boris giving a low whistle. "Christ if I wasn't married I would be going after her. So what do we do with her?"
"Well unless we want her to get raped and murdered I suppose that she has to travel with us until we can at least drop her off at another temple, or else take her back to Zhukov with us. Too many bandits on the road to just let her go wondering off on her own."
"Hard sell telling her that we couldn't help wasn't it?"
"Well fuck, I wanted to, but we've got to find the pilot and we don't really understand this world yet. I mean the thing that she was describing sounded like some kind of evil apostle and I've fought an apostle before. I emptied a full mag of .308 into her and she just fucking kept laughing and the wounds healed immediately like nothing had happened. I'd be dead too if it wasn't for Ianthe and Luella. Say we roll into the village and we can't kill it? We rip off limbs with the HMGs and blow it apart with the 76mm, then burn it with the flamethrowers, only to watch the thing reform like an amoeba. Then what?"
"You don't need to justify your decision to me Feliks, it's a shitty situation anyway you cut it. Can't always play the hero. Sometimes you've just got to play the soldier. Look at it this way, she's alive because we were here. If we hadn't been then Ianthe wouldn't have been by the river and wouldn't have seen her. Sometimes you've just got to look on the bright side Feliks. We're up one from what we would have been."
"I guess so, but she probably doesn't see it that way."
"No. No she won't," said Boris quietly.
Xxx
So far as Nikolai's experiences with the other races of Falmart went, they were off to a great start.
His back was still sore and bruised, making getting up or walking a painful chore, but the dark elf who he now knew as Maeldes with the sunset colored eyes and silver hair was caring for him. She had made him a rather expansive bed of furs and cushions that she seemed to be trying to add to daily and if he was being honest with himself, it was very comfortable.
They were in a cave and he noticed that whenever she had to go outside she would stare up at the sky with apprehension, as if willing herself to have the courage to venture fourth. When she returned, she would always come back with food, water, firewood, and whatever amenities that she could find. She also knew how to use a little of what Nikolai could only describe as magic and whenever she used it, his back always felt better.
He had attempted to make a signal fire to light so that it would be easier for a rescue team to find him, but as he had been about to light it Maeldes had returned and stamped out the fire before it had even been able to grown beyond an ember, something like terror in her eyes as she did so.
She had pointed to the sky and said two words over and over again, 'chath maelthra.' He had understood when she had pantomimed rather comically some terrible monster with claws and wings. Chath maelthra meant fire dragon.
He had also learned through various gestures, words, and quick drawings in the dirt of the cave that Maeldes had very nearly been eaten by a fire dragon, until Nikolai's flight had attacked it and scared it off. When she had found out that Nikolai had been one of the ones to attack it, she had grown very...gracious towards him.
As for her bedside manner however, well, Nikolai had no complaints.
She had taken it upon herself to feed him, though that was still within his ability to do. However, he quite frankly found that he was perfectly alright with the arrangement.
The dark elf was laying half on top of him and wearing very little, not that she or any of the others he had seen liked to wear much clothing at all to begin with.
She was feeding him grapes one at a time from a bowl, watching him take then from between her delicate fingers, before she would grab another and wait for him to finish, before holding it out towards him. Every once in a while she would hold up a cup of wine or water for him to drink from and when he had his fill, she would go back to feeding him grapes.
Still, as much as he was enjoying this, and he was, Nikolai knew that he had to try and make his way back towards Zhukov, or else try to signal headquarters if at all possible. So as much as he didn't want to, he would have to tell Maeldes to get off of him and try to make her understand that he had to find his way back to Zhukov.
A mischievous look came over Maeldes as she plucked another grape from the bowl and instead of holding it out for Nikolai, set it between her lips and leaned over top of Nikolai. To his credit as an officer of the Soviet Union, Nikolai crumbled immediately and took the offered grape, a darting tongue following it for the briefest of moments startling him.
Maeldes looked over her shoulder quickly as if confirming they were alone in the cave, before grinning down hungrily at Nikolai.
"Ssissinrin ulu vith?" asked the dark elf in a sultry tone above him and Nikolai only stared blankly.
Still grinning hungrily Maeldes slipped her hand under the furs covering Nikolai and then there was no doubt in his mind what she had asked.
"Vith?" asked Maeldes again, drawing the word out to excruciating length. Nikolai would have to remember that one.
xxx
Ianthe was flying overhead, looking for any sign of movement on the ground, but she found that she was distracted, fuming even. Who did that harlot think that she was offering herself to Feliks like some tavern wench? And right in front of her too! She had heard stories of some priests having less than holy relations with their altar boys and girls, but it seemed that the perversion was equal amongst its priestess' as well.
Ianthe ground her teeth in annoyance as she searched for any sign of movement on the ground, but like always she saw nothing. Not even travelers on the road. It was as if everyone was still in bed or else hiding, even though it was high noon. when she saw thick white smoke plumes coming from near the river. White smoke meant that the fire had already burned itself out and was only smoldering now. Curious, she brought Maximus around and headed towards it.
As she grew closer to the source of the smoke, she saw that it came from where the river bent sharply around an outcropping of rock. It must be the Riverbend village that the Priestess was talking about. As Ianthe flew over top of it her earlier predictions had proven prophetic.
She set Maximus down on the far bank amongst the charred remains of what had once been houses. Ash swirling around her as Maximus flared his wings to slow their descent.
Ianthe stepped off of Maximus, undoing her harness and stepping to the ground below, sinking ankle deep into the still hot ash. In the doorway immediately in front of her she saw a charred corpse with its skull split open.
Axe heads and the metal ends of harpoons stuck out from the ash that swirled at her feet, charred black from carbon. The smell of cooked human flesh and burnt timber assaulted her senses. The thing that bothered her the most as she walked through the village though, was that this made no sense.
She'd sacked towns before for loot and gold and seen other men do it for women and slaves as well. She'd seen death many times before, but this was different. There was no reason for this. No castle that needed starved of provisions, or rebellion that needed put down. The livestock hadn't been stolen, rather they laid as charred bones in their pens. Silver laid where it had fallen, so it wasn't for money that this had been done. Even though Ianthe kicked over a silver candlestick, she didn't take it as loot, even though she had picked corpses clean of anything of value on many battlefields. It felt like if she dared to take a single coin from this place, she would be cursed to suffer the same fate as what had happened to these people. Ianthe felt a chill run down her spine despite the heat and put her hand on her sword.
A dragon hadn't done this either. If it had, then everything would be ash and the metal would be hard shapeless lumps so hot was a dragon's fire. Not merely having their handles burned away. Someone had set this village ablaze building by building, one at a time. What shocked Ianthe the most, was that all of this. All of this destruction, had been done for the sake of destruction. This place...felt evil. No. This place wasn't evil, but evil had come here.
She searched the whole of the village on both sides, but found nothing except for more death and destruction. A prickling sensation of fear ever building the longer she stayed, like something was watching her.
Ianthe made to mount back onto Maximus, when she heard a shuffle of something moving through the ash.
"Who goes there?!" demanded Ianthe drawing her blade and being met with only silence.
"Either answer or I'll have my dragon burn what's left of this ruin to dust," warned Ianthe and Maximus raised his head and let loose a ground shaking roar, as if affirming Ianthe's threat. Red eyes filled with murderous intent.
A small head poked out from behind a charred stone fence, before quickly darting away. Advancing quickly, Ianthe leaped over the charred wall of what had once been the temple's garden, sword in hand and visor of her helm down. Maximus bounding after her, hissing lowly when she finally cornered what had been spying on her.
Two small children, filthy and wide-eyed, staring at Ianthe and Maximus. A boy and a girl, brother and sister most likely and they were trembling in fear at the sight of Ianthe and her dragon.
Deciding that they weren't demons in disguise, Ianthe sheathed her sword and walked slowly towards them, giving a curt command for Maximus to stay where he was. She took off her helmet and held it under her arm, going down to a knee in front of the children, noting the easing of their frightened faces. Being a woman sometimes made dealing with children much easier as Ianthe had learned.
"Easy now little ones, you're safe now," said Ianthe. "No one is going to harm you. Here, come here," coaxed Ianthe gently and the two grubby children came to her, if somewhat hesitantly.
"There we go, you're alright now," cooed Ianthe, stroking the grubby girl's hair.
"Are you a knight?" asked the boy.
"Aye, I am little one," said Ianthe.
"Did you come to slay the monster?" asked the girl.
"The monster is long gone sweet child."
"No. He's not," said the girl shaking her head and Ianthe felt as if her blood turned to ice at those words and her eyes widened.
"Then we should be," said Ianthe, grabbing hold of the children roughly and half dragging, half carrying them to Maximus, rapidly strapping them into the saddle. The feeling of something staring at her, of something about to grab her never leaving her.
With a mighty snap of wings Maximus took to the sky, leaving the burning ruin Riverbend in the distance behind her.
When they had finally reached the camp again, Ianthe's heart had finally returned to a normal rhythm and she unstrapped the two children who remarkably hadn't cried on their first flight on a dragon. They had slept instead, which was far more worrying.
They walked behind her closely, hugging onto her armored form as they gazed around in both confusion and awe at the Soviet camp.
She found the priestess sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest and head resting against them. She was dressed in spare Soviet clothing, but she was unable to do up the tunic that they had given her, the garment not designed for someone with such an ample bosom. She looked so despondent and depressed that Ianthe almost felt sorry for her. Almost.
"Sister Leonita!" cried the children and ran towards the raven haired Priestess.
The now named Leonita looked up quickly, eyes wide with first shock, then joy as she bounded to her feet and nearly tackled the children.
"Oh Cato! Hostia too! Oh thank the gods!" said the Priestess, crying again as she planted kisses on the foreheads of the filthy children as they buried their heads into her chest.
"We were so scared,"mewled the girl Hostia.
"I know, I know you were sweet child. I'm sorry I couldn't keep you safe, but you're safe now. You're both safe now. And you brave Cato, you hid your sister like I told you to didn't you?"
"Yes Sister Leonita."
"Oh good bod. What a sweet boy," cooed the priestess hugging both of the children close.
"You went to Riverbend didn't you?" asked the Priestess, her gray eyes filled with gratitude, locking with Ianthe's.
"I did."
"Were there," asked the Priestess trailing off.
"Just corpses and ash. And something else I didn't wait around to cross paths with."
"If you took any silver, you're welcome to-"
"I took nothing from that cursed place," said Ianthe. "What is there can stay there, I want nothing from it."
"Is there anything I can give you? Anything at all? A blessing perhaps? If I can do it I will gladly do so."
"So is one thing I want," said Ianthe kneeling down in front of the priestess.
"Name it."
"Make no more advances upon the Soviet Officer. Am I understood?"
"What I did...was unworthy of me," said Leonita, looking away from Ianthe in shame.
"It was. See that you remember that."
"I will. I promise I will ser knight. I owe you for this, more than I can ever repay. Thank you for saving them."
Ianthe regarded the dark haired Leonita with her icy blue eyes, before walking away.
xxx
The crack of a rifle sounded next to Feliks and he saw one of the empty ration tins topple off of the logs that he had placed it on. Looking over to his side, he saw a pleased grin on Ianthe's face like a cat preening itself, before she shifted her aim and slowed her breathing. She took in a few more breaths, held it, then squeezed the trigger. The Kalashnikov barked again, and another metal ration tin spun away into the brush.
"Pull straight back, you hitting a little to the right," said Feliks and heeding his advice the mercenary applied more even force in her next shot, taking an empty ammo spam can through the center and flinging it off of the log. The next three shots followed soon after, each one a hit.
"Not bad," said Feliks. "You're really starting to get the hang of it.
"Not bad?" asked Ianthe cockily. "I hit every single one of them on the first try."
"Yes, those are some very dead containers," said Feliks, fighting back a grin as a scowl replaced the cocky smirk on Ianthe's face.
"How about we try sparing with quarterstaffs? You haven't managed to hit me once yet."
"Well I would, but I'm not a masochist," said Feliks.
"You just don't like to lose," countered the mercenary.
"Well, do you?"
"No," admitted Ianthe. "I like to win."
"Which is why you want to spar."
"Maybe I just want to help you get better?" offered Ianthe innocently.
"By beating me with a stick?"
"Every bruise is a lesson learned," said Ianthe sagely.
"I'm pretty sure you just like hitting me."
"Well, maybe just a little," admitted the mercenary. "So, what do you think of the priestess?" asked Ianthe, inspecting her fingernails.
"I don't know, seems nice," said Feliks.
"Seems nice?" asked Ianthe, giving him a sideways look.
"Yeah. She really seems broken up about what happened to her village and when you brought those kids back her face just lit up."
"It did," admitted Ianthe. "Have you...talked to her at all? In private maybe?"
"Other than when she first woke up? No, I haven't. I've barely even seen her actually, I've been busy trying to find that damned pilot. I don't know where the fuck he got off to. I mean we found where he came down at, but after that the trail just disappears into the forest."
"Oh, that's good, gives her time to grieve in peace," said Ianthe airily, before stretching.
"I guess. That pilot had better be fucking dying when we find him, I'm getting tired of pushing bush all day."
"Well I should let you get back to that," murmured Ianthe standing and stretching out her body.
"Yeah, yeah. See you tonight," said Feliks as Ianthe walked away with a swagger to her step.
xxx
"Luella whe-" began Ianthe, cutting herself off as she found the petite elf sleeping slumped against a rucksack and breathing softly in the dark. Though Luella didn't look it, she was still quite young for an elf, in her early teens for her species. Almost a child even if her body was almost fully developed.
She had spent the whole day helping with the search effort, leading the different groups through the densely packed forest and doubling back to find those who lost their way. Her ability to pick her way through the woods nigh on supernatural. She'd done if for sixteen hours, straight stopping only to pick up food to eat as she moved and it seemed that she had reached her limit.
Ianthe smiled down at Luella and bending down picked up the sleeping elf bridal style. Luella not so much as stirring as Ianthe carried her to where her tent was pitched. Ianthe carried her inside and took off the girl's boots and socks before placing her in her sleeping bag.
Ianthe had grown attached to the elf, a sisterly affection having manifested itself and she felt protective over the 'young' woman. She brushed the long locks of blonde hair away from Luella's face, before zipping up the sleeping bag to ensure that she stayed warm. Of all the things that the Soviets had, Ianthe had decided that zippers had to be one of the most useful. Much quicker than buttons or laces and much more convenient.
Ianthe left the tent and wandered around, the sentries recognizing her and giving her no trouble or challenge. She should have headed to her tent since she would need to be up early in the to help scout ahead and search on Maximus, but she felt restless.
The air of the night was cool, but not cold, even to her sensitive elvish ears which she left bare and unbound now. The moon was full and bright which made finding her way easy, easier still with her elvish eyes which could see nearly as well in the dark as the light, though they were sensitive to bright flashes of light.
She heard the clink of glass, barely perceptible, but her keen hearing picking it up and one of her ears twitching in response. She saw the top of Felik's head above a grassy knoll overlooking the river that snaked and wound its way through the land and so she made her way over to him, longsword swaying on her hip.
"Pop a squat," offered Feliks, gesturing to an empty patch of grass next to him. His AK on the grass to his left resting on his helmet while a vodka bottle filled his right hand.
"I know that I-oh," said Feliks, perhaps expecting Ianthe to chastise him when she took the bottle from his hand, but instead she tilted the bottle up and took a long drink herself, feeling the mild burning as the liquid raced down her throat and settled in her stomach, turning her insides pleasantly warm before she handed back the bottle.
"You did good today. You know, shooting. You're getting pretty good actually," said Feliks and Ianthe couldn't help but preen ever so slightly at the praise.
"And you're becoming less of a weakling, almost acceptably fit," offered Ianthe.
"I'm getting there. Still sore though," offered Feliks taking another sip of his vodka, before passing it to Ianthe and her doing the same.
"You don't give out a lot of praise, do you?" asked the Soviet and Ianthe couldn't help but grin.
"My father was never one quick to offer praise. He always said that people should not expect accolades merely for existing and that it should only be given when truly deserving. I remember when I became a blademaster of Messalon after I had passed all my trials. When the ceremonies were done he took me aside, put his hand on my shoulder, looked me in the eyes, and told me that he couldn't be more proud of me."
"Did you hug him?"
"No, I cried," said Ianthe. "I don't think he was expecting that," continued the mercenary thoughtfully, finding the drink clouding her mind, but also freeing her tongue. "Since I followed the martial path he always treated me as a boy with the same expectations. I think he sometimes forgot that I'm a woman."
"He sounds like a stern man."
"He is," agreed Ianthe, "but he's a fair one too. I pray that I may get to see him again soon and that I might be able to look him in the eye with pride. I think you would like him."
"Maybe, but I don't know if I'll get the chance to meet him. My tour ends in a month and then I'm heading back home," said Feliks as he took another drink.
"Oh, I see," was all Ianthe said, but inside she felt as if she had just heard she was never going to see home again. "I'm sure that you miss your home."
"Not really," said the blood red haired Soviet. "I don't really talk to my parents too much since we had a falling out and I haven't really kept in contact with the rest of my brothers and sisters."
"May I ask what the falling out was?"
"Sure, I don't mind telling you. One of my sisters, Anastasia is her name, she was the reason."
"Did you kill her lover?" asked Ianthe, sipping on Vodka.
"No, they wouldn't have been as mad at me if I had. My sister defected. Left everything behind, left us behind without so much as a word. Left me behind. We'd always been close, Anastasia and me, but I couldn't forgive her for that, for just leaving us. My parents wanted me to call her, to get her to come back, but this was when I was with the GRU and indoctrinated all to shit on ideology and loyalty to the party above all. More than that though, she hurt me by leaving without saying anything. I told them that she was a traitor and that she was no sister of mine worth having. I called her every name under the sun and cursed at my parents for defending her. That if she didn't care enough about us to stay with us, I wasn't going to go begging her to come back. I told them that I would kill her myself is I ever saw her again. I made my dad mad when I said that and he grabbed me, but I was strong then, just as fit as you, maybe more so. I threw him off me and I hit him. I hit him hard," continued Feliks, Ianthe could feel the regret in his voice as he said it. As if wishing he could take it all back. "I haven't spoken to them since."
"And now?" asked Ianthe.
"Now I just hope that she's happy wherever she is. I got a postcard one day, from America. I never read it though, I was too mad. I just threw it away."
"You should speak to them when you go home. If you leave wounds like that open, they will only fester and leave you with regret. I haven't spoken with my older brother in eight years and now I don't know if he's alive or dead. If I still have the chance to say I'm sorry and that I love him," said Ianthe, swallowing heavily to crush down the emotions that threatened to spill out, finding that a mouthful of vodka helped push them back where they belonged.
"You know you're not as hotheaded without those studs holding back your ears," said Feliks.
"You know you say the stupidest damned things at the wrong time," chastised Ianthe irritably. "And I can get quite angry now if that would make you feel better."
"I'm just...drunk," offered Feliks. "What happened?" continued Feliks, eyes having the dull sheen of someone becoming drunk and Ianthe was sure that her eyes were looking much the same.
"My brother Alyosha, he does not care for the company of women," said Ianthe slowly, unsure of how to explain her brother's affliction.
"You mean he's a homosexual?"
"He likes to have sex with other men, if that is what he is, then he is one. He is my father's eldest son and he was supposed to take over as the patriarch of my family when my father passes. However, he refused all matches that my father proposed between him and ladies of other houses. He always had excuses and I always defended his decisions. He was my older brother and I loved him more than any of my other brothers and sisters. I'm a bastard," said Ianthe, saying the word as if gritting her teeth and pulling a blade out of her stomach.
"More than that I'm an elvish bastard, unfit to wear my father's name, our family name. But that never mattered to Alyosha and he loved me all the same. He was my best friend and my protector. Nobody dared to torment me with him by my side, he would have killed them if they did. Alyosha is strong, both in body and spirit. He inherited our father's size and power. Alyosha taught me how to use a spear, taught me how to properly hold a sword and trained with me in secret before I had the courage to tell my father that I wanted to walk the path of the warrior. Defended me against my father's rebukes and so I defended his rejections of the potential matches that my father offered. This one too fat. That one too ugly. That one smelled foul, or snored too loudly. My brother was my hero and I believed no woman good enough to even be a sleeve for his cock, much less carry his child. When I came back from my first campaign I heard yelling, angry yelling. My father is a ferocious man and I had never seen him so enraged as I did that day."
Ianthe took a breath to steady herself and emptied what was left in the bottle in a long draught before continuing.
"He finally told my father the truth. He told him how he had no interest in women, no interest in marrying, and no interest in fathering children. How his weekend hunting trips were really an excuse to visit his lover and that they were going to get their own villa together. I couldn't believe it. Hearing that was like having a spear driven through my heart. I called him a cockless coward. I said that he was betraying our family, betraying his duty, betraying our father, betraying me. I told him that I hated him. I told him to just fuck a girl and put a baby in her belly for the family. When he said that he wouldn't do that I told him that I never wanted to see him again. That he was dead to me and if he had any honor left he should drive his dagger into what remained of his shriveled heart. Yet through all of my cursing, all of my vile insults he never said anything back. I cut him deep with my words, but he refused to do the same. He refused to hurt me. He was the one person who had never hurt me, promised me that he never would even as I turned on him when he needed me most. He refused to hurt me. He never yelled at me, never raised his voice, because even though I never drew a blade, I cut his heart from his chest that day. I stormed away after that and refused to speak with him. He left our home that day and I haven't spoken to him since. Now every time I think of him, I can only see the pain on his face that I caused with what I said to him. When I refused to speak with him. I want to now though. I want to beg for his forgiveness on my knees and tell him that I still love him. That I don't care where he sticks his cock, that he's still my brother and nothing will ever change that. Heh, he was even the one that was against me bleaching my hair. Said that it was dangerous, that I didn't need to do it," said Ianthe Morosely.
"You look better as a blonde anyway," said Feliks.
"Is that all you can say after that?" demanded Ianthe. "Plus it looks dumb with only the roots being blonde."
"I honestly don't know what else to say," admitted the Soviet. "I'm...not good at this kind of stuff. Wasn't it dangerous bleaching your eyebrows and lashes with that stuff?"
"I could have gone blind any time I did it had I spilled too much in my eyes," admitted Ianthe. "I wanted to fit in. I wanted to be only human. You know, I think I owe you another story since you told me about your scar, not just one about me tripping," said Ianthe, the liquor making her feel talkative and reflective.
"When I was ten years old I had a crush on a boy. Kaapo. He was big for his age, and good looking too. In my infatuation and naivete I sent him a letter, a love letter in all honesty. I hardly ate and slept while I awaited his reply. I used flowery language and good parchment, and I was filled with embarrassment the moment I sent it. When he sent a reply I agonized opening it for a whole day and a night. When I finally did open it, wouldn't you know it he felt the same way. He promised me that we'd get married and have wonderful children together. That he would always love me. He wanted to meet me in three days at high moon on the acropolis. I was high with excitement and dreams of romance."
"I spent all of my money on a fine silk dress and sandals. All the money in the world that I had I spent on that dress. I braided my hair with flowers and had silver leaves woven into it when I went to meet him. I spent two hours putting on makeup like the noble ladies and I brought him a gift too. A bronze warrior's armband to wear. A mark of honor.
"I waited on a bench overlooking Plutus by the Fountain of Dreams. I could hardly wait and I couldn't decide on what I would say to him first. If I should let him speak first. Heh," laughed Ianthe bitterly. "I even wondered if we would get married that night."
"Well Kaapo showed up alright, with four of his friends. I was confused when I should have been running. They beat me and ripped off my dress," said Ianthe emotionlessly. "Broke my expensive sandals and pulled the flowers and silver leaves out of my hair. The real silver ones that I bought from a silversmith, not decorative ones. They called me a dirty knife-eared whore. An ugly elven bitch that should have known better than to made advances upon her betters. That I had to learn my place. They poured blood and tar on me, before dumping a bag of feathers on me. They called it an improvement and sent me home naked, bawling, covered in blood, tar, and feathers. Wouldn't you know it though? It was Alyosha who cleaned me up, who dried my tears and held me close until I stopped sobbing. He held an ugly little knife-eared bitch to make her feel better and on that day I swore I would never let anyone ever hurt me like that ever again. Alyosha began teaching me how to box the next day. His ugly little elven bastard bitch of a sister," choked out Ianthe, feeling tears start to fall.
She wiped at then roughly, sitting up from the grass, but stopped in surprise as a calloused hand tenderly wiped them away.
"You are beautiful, not ugly," said Feliks softly but purposefully.
Perversely, Ianthe thought that Feliks was trying to trick her, mocking her, but looking in his eyes she saw no deception, just tenderness and caring. Just like how Alyosha had looked at her. She cupped Feliks' hand to her face and felt warmth blossom in her breast that wasn't from the alcholol. Ianthe felt insane bravery well up inside of her fueling her desire and bolstered by the drink, she stretched out to Feliks and locked her lips on his.
She had meant it as a chaste kiss, but it quickly turned into a hungry one, one driven by desire and want. She broke it after a moment, noting the surprised look on Feliks' face and insane fear welled up inside of her that she had pushed too far. That he did not want her and that he would mock her and reject her. Those fears vanished as Feliks kissed her back.
At first she thought that he was hesitant or only leading her on, but then she realized that it was inexperience, not hesitance holding him back. So she resolved to show him the way and took over the kiss, deepening it and pushing him down beneath her so that his back was pressed firmly against the grassy knoll. Biting on his lip gently for him to open his mouth, but when he didn't get the prompt, she forced her tongue into his mouth. Having to force herself not to grin at his naivete even as she felt her body heat up and face flush.
"I always wait...too long...to let people know...how I feel," breathed Ianthe in between kisses, tasting the alcohol in Feliks' mouth and searching for every drop of it. "But not this time," promised the mercenary, holding his arms down as she let her passions run wild. Tearing off her belt and letting the longsword and dagger fall free, tossing them to the side in frustration as they only served to get in her way. Feliks now reciprocating eagerly, if inexperienced in his attempts.
"I want you. I want you to stay with me and come back to Messalon with me," said Ianthe Huskily, eyes hazy with drink and lust. "If you'll be mine and only mine then I will be yours and only yours. I don't want you to leave, but for tonight, I just want you inside of me."
"I," mumbled Feliks, face flushed and Ianthe silenced him with a kiss.
"I'll show you what to do," promised Ianthe straddling his waist, before taking off her black form fitting shirt and exposing her breasts to the chilly night air, pink nipples erect from arousal and the cold, before melding her body with his.
AN: Well I'm quite happy with how this chapter turned out. I was having a lot of trouble writing it and eventually after doing a few chapters for one of my other stories I just pretty much scrapped what I had for this entirely and started again. It turned out much better than the other one was going to.
I feel like I waited the proper amount of time for the romance to go from meeting, to friendship, to mutual respect, to trust, and finally to love and passion. I'm actually quite pleased with it if I do say so myself. Turns out Luella is really perceptive about people. Leave a review and tell me what you guys thought of the chapter.