Chapter 61
Maria raced to Michael and straddled his butt, facing his legs, then she started tickling the insides of his thighs with feather soft touches of her fingernails. Michael groaned his protest, shifting left and right, trying to get her to stop. When she didn’t, he did the next best thing: he pressed his thighs close together, limiting her access to a minimum. Maria frowned, and turned to her two best friends, who were witnessing her defeat, standing by the bed.
- May I? - Isabel asked with an unsure smile. - We? - She went on, pointing at Liz with her thumb. Maria knit her eyebrows together, wondering what they were up to, but her curiosity won through.
- He’s all yours. - She expressed her acceptance, helplessly, with her hands, palms up.
Isabel knelt on the bed by Michael’s left thigh and gestured to Liz to do the same. She had remembered a very useful trick from her Antar nightmarish dreams which would come handy now. She made sure Liz’s eyes were on her and she pointed to the spot where Michael’s thigh met his body. First she snapped her teeth together twice and then she stuck her tongue between her lips. Liz answered with a wicked smile, and nodded. Maria’s eyebrows now were raised as she saw them dip their heads and go to work. Suddenly, Maria felt like she was sitting on a marble statue, Michael felt so tight! He started bucking, and writhing, and slithering hard enough to almost unseat her, so Maria moved further back and began to slide her finger as deep as she could between Michael’s tightly clenched buttocks. His protesting growls and grunts turned to whimpers, and the three males on the couch jumped to their feet, worried about what the girls were doing to Michael. Kyle took off for the room, and this time Stuart and Max followed him. They bounded for the open bedroom door reaching it in three seconds flat and stood at there looking in with their jaws hitting the floor. Michael finally found what was available of his voice:
- Dammit, you’re going to make me pee! - He panted the last words, barely making it.
- OFF! - The girls froze and raised their hands off their victim, even Maria jumped away from him at the sound of Isabel’s scream.
- I swear, Michael Guerin, you pee even a single drop on my bed and you don’t know what I will do to you. - Isabel screeched, as Michael managed to push up on all fours and crawl back off the bed. He rose to his feet, pulling the sheet around his waist to cover his nudity, and turned to Isabel with his most charming grin.
- First you would clean up with your powers, no sweat, and then, you would apologize to me, giving me a big hug and a huge kiss, because it was your fault. - His eyes locked on hers.
Isabel answered him with an endearing smile, which she had only for Michael, and leapt into his arms, hugging him tight. When they backed off a little, with Isabel still smiling, and Michael giving her his trademark smirk, they exchanged a gentle peck on the lips, which forgave everything.
- Now I want my huge kiss. - Michael challenged and turning his face, he surrendered his cheek. Isabel complied and then he gave her cheek one too, ending in another hug.
Max clapped his hands loudly and caught everyone’s attention to him.
- Alright! Enough of this mushy thing, we have important business on hold! - He headed impatiently to the door, waving to the others to follow him, which they did.
- Hey! Maria and Liz owe me too! - Michael shouted, very disappointed.
- I’ll pay you later, spaceboy…- Maria whispered as she passed by him.
He smirked at her fondly, and turned to catch Liz’s eyes.
- I owe you, Michael…- Liz whispered provocatively on his other side, giving him a secret smile which made Maria double up in laughter. Michael winked at Liz and whispered back:
- Oh, you’ll pay! -
- Are you coming or what?! - Came Max’s irritatingly angry voice.
- In a sec, I really have to pee. - Michael called back and disappeared into the bathroom.
The three girls sat on the couch, with Isabel in the middle and the guys on the floor, leaning against the girls’ legs. Max on Liz’s, Stuart on Isabel’s, and Kyle on Maria’s, who whacked him up the head and warned:
- No funny business, Buddha Boy…- sending a jolt through everyone at Tess’ pet name for him. Kyle rubbed his head with one hand and raised the other one in protest, but didn’t dare make a sound to provoke a second attack from the firecracker.
Michael joined them with a towel around his waist, barely reaching his thighs but long enough to wrap around him safely.
- Max, you were absolutely right! He looks stunning in a mini-skirt! Check those legs! - That of course got Kyle the second whack up the head he expected earlier and didn’t come then.
Michael ignored him and padded to the couch on his socks.
- Ok, c’mon, you already know we can take you. - Maria beckoned, and Michael laid himself over the girls’ laps like he had on the car when he was released from the hospital. He punched Kyle’s battered head lightly.
- Hey dwarf, you’re blocking the screen. -
Kyle scuttled to the left, and Michael patted his head.
- Thanks, smurf. - He told him.
- I’m not blue! - Kyle protested.
- But you’re short. - Michael rubbed it in. Kyle opened his mouth to speak but was cut short by Max.
- Enough! - He handed Stuart the video cassette. - You do the honours. -
-Thank you. - Stuart said, touched by the privilege.
He took the video cassette from the box and pushed it into the slot. Max pressed the “play” button on the remote control in his hand. The screen was invaded with colourful figures in Egyptian costumes, there were chariots and even live elephants. Then the sound kicked it and the martial airs of the Triumphal March of the Aida Opera blared in the room.
- What the hell is that? - Kyle exclaimed.
- That is exactly what the label says: The Triumphal March of the Aida Opera, and that is the Scala Theatre of Milan. - Stuart informed him.
Max pushed stop and ejected the video cassette.
- Hey! That sounded damn good! Why did you turn it off? - All eyes were on Michael, absolutely surprised.
- Well, what d’you know? The alien boy here has exquisitely good taste! - Stuart observed.
- Of course I do! I also like Metallica! - Michael stated.
That got them all laughing, Maria yanked his hair, Isabel spanked his ass, and Liz squeezed his bare thighs, then she playfully walked her fingers all the way up under the towel, making him squirm and gasp.
- Hey! Hands off my boyfriend! - Maria yelled at Liz, trying hard not to laugh.
Liz pulled her hands away, holding them up for Maria to see, and giggling uncontrollably, Isabel couldn’t help joining her and Maria’s tears were falling from laughing so hard.
- You’re killing me here, you know? - Michael was chuckling too.
Stuart and Kyle were looking at them over their shoulders, ready to join in the fun, when Max almost lost it.
- Alright, can we try to find an answer to this thing, please! - He shouted, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. He waited impatiently the couple of minutes it took the rest to quiet down and go back to the mystery of the video cassette.
- So it’s not mislabeled? - Max said, in total disappointment.
- You only have to rewind it, man, loosen up! - Michael again surprised them with a sensible possibility.
- You’re right! This was done in purpose, as a cover up, in case it fell in the wrong hands! - Liz said, tapping Stuart’s shoulder, and reaching over. Stuart retrieved the video cassette and handed it to Liz who saw the tape was at its end. They had watched, probably, the last seconds.
- See? - She said and showed it to Stuart and Max who saw immediately she was right. Max pushed it in again and rewound it. Maria took the time to bend and kiss Michael, who twisted his upper body sideways enough to permit her to capture his lips. Max, of course, looked at them and frowned.
- What is it with you? Why are you acting so…- Liz struggled to find a word that would describe Max’s stupid behaviour without offending him. Max raised his hands to stop her questions and focused on the blue screen. Liz scoffed and rubbed Michael’s thighs, siding with him. He felt the electricity from her hands running up his thighs all the way up his body. That, plus the kiss he was sharing with Maria, and Isabel’s hands resting on his ass, digging her fingers into his flesh to relieve the stress not to lash out at her exasperating brother, because, although he totally deserved it, she was trying to understand the tension he was also going through, made Michael shudder. He somehow felt every single feeling from the three girls, crashing into his body, through the physical contact they were sharing. Somehow, Max’s desperation to find out about his real status, was making him act absolutely insufferable. Still, it did not excuse his attitude. Maria ended the kiss, and Michael was able to express his feelings.
- Cool it Max, ok? We’re all bugging to know, just like you. We just don’t need to lash out at each other. - Michael apparently got through to Max, because he took a deep breath, and nodded. The rewinding stopped and Max pressed play. A face filled the screen, and Max’s breath caught, confirming to the rest that it was, indeed, Langley. Max was the only one who knew the man, and the only one who could positively recognize him. Langley stared into each pair of eyes, one after the other, as if he was actually sitting there in front of them. It was so uncanny, that they couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable under his scrutiny. He finally opened his mouth to speak.
- Well, Max, I need to know if we’re safe, here. Can we trust these persons? -
Max stared at Langley open mouthed.
- I know you’re not bright enough to figure this out, but have you grown dumb on top of all? -
- C-c-can you s-see us? - Max stuttered, both acting and feeling like a total idiot.
- You haven’t answered my question! - Langley sounded pissed, not a good sign. - I can end this transmission in a fraction of a second if I suspect any danger, leaving no evidence at all! -
- Of course we’re safe, everyone here is trustworthy, I assure it.- Max said in a shaky voice.
- Alright then, introduce me. -
- First tell me how you can see us…- Max sounded still unstable and Langley shook his head and chuckled.
- This is a merge of Alien-Hollywood high technology, you wouldn’t understand it, so don’t even try. Welcome to my world!- He glared at Max, who lowered his eyes, losing the staring contest completely. One point to Langley. - Well? -
- This is Liz, she is with me. - Max said, turning to look at her over his shoulder.
- Right, the human for whom you disclosed your powers. - Liz felt uncomfortable so Isabel came to her rescue.
- I am Isabel. - The girl in question didn’t wait to be introduced by Max.
- Vilandra-Isabel, the future Princess, always a lady, so glad to see you. - He smiled at her, making her smile back.
- I am Kyle Valenti, the son of the ex- sheriff, Tess was living with us, until she left for her planet. - Kyle said, a little in awe of the man in the screen.
- Yes, Max used his powers on you and your father, too. - He said with a sigh.
- I am Maria, I am with Michael. - The mention of the last alien’s name made Langley visibly prick his ears and show some interest.
- That’s me…- Michael said, saluting in military style.
Langley stood up and lowered his head respectfully.
- Lord Rath-Michael, my honour. - His voice, for once, showed some kind of emotion. He stayed there, unmoving.
- Relax, man, and go on! - Michael said eager to get to the point.
Langley sat back and looked up, staring fixedly at Stuart.
- I’m Dr. Stuart Davis, I’ve been taking care of Michael…-
Langley showed alarm in his voice as he glared at Max.
- What’s been going on, Max? - He demanded.
- Shouldn’t you know? Aren’t you supposed to follow our every move? How come you weren’t aware of our physical appearance? - Max inquired, and Langley, of course, was forced to answer, addressing them generally and shoving Max aside.
- Yes, I should, but as you know, it’s still taking me a lot of effort to regain my practically lost status, after our bright “majesty” almost totally blew my cover, which had taken me most of my lifetime, here on earth, to build, because of a stupid prank, to try to inflate his already bloated ego, which of course, backfired in his…face. - He bit down, just in time, an obviously insulting adjective before the last word, making a much needed pause to regain his composure before he continued. - These last months, after “my king’s” regrettable visit, I have been forced to keep a very low profile, to take suspicion away from me, rendering me useless to neutralize enemy presences in your surroundings, although I kept sensing the threat of danger very near you, and worrying because there was nothing I could do to prevent it. Thanks to you, Max. - He spat his name with contempt. - As to your physical appearance, I preferred not to be able to even react to a photograph, for your own safety. I just used my unfailing alien ESP, and so far, it always worked, until the incident that forced me to loose contact, waiting for the issues to be taken care of, which I am just a few steps away from accomplishing. Thank you, Dr. for being there for my lord, I shall be always in debt to you. Now, tell me what happened? -
Max was shaking with fury, caused by the respectful way Langley referred to Michael, and Isabel, yet in spite of accepting him unwillingly as his king, he treated him as an unpleasant problem that he had to acknowledge and deal with. Knowing Max’s conflictive character, Isabel was sure Langley had reasons enough to dislike him, so she answered before Max made it any worse.
- Nicholas fooled Max out of the way, and attacked Michael, almost killing him. I had started to have strange dreams of our former lives, and they acted like warnings. I was able to rescue Michael with Kyle’s father’s help. He killed Nicholas, following my instructions about his vulnerable spot, of which I simply knew, I don’t know how. Max was too far to arrive in time to heal him, and by a freak accident, concerning a neighbour, Michael ended in a hospital. I changed his blood to human, so he wouldn’t be discovered, but Dr. Davis happened to be the godfather of one of the children Max healed at the hospital where he worked at that time. He had managed to get a picture of both him and Michael from the hospital security cameras, and recognized him. He’s been helping us because he is grateful for his godchild’s life. - Her briefing was abridged but accurate. Langley nodded, carefully filing away everything in his brain.
- Now I want answers! - Max, as usual, asked to be obeyed, in his most unpleasant way.
- And you shall have them. Ask away! - The way Langley looked back at him, showed clearly how much he despised him.
- I want to know everything about Antar, and what happened there! -
- Alright, I have all the time in the world, and believe it or not, this video cassette will go on unendingly until I decide it’s enough. Make yourselves comfortable because this will take some time. We’ll begin by a history lesson, which is essential for you to understand where you come from and who you are.
The Martyr of Antar-COMPLETED
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ñusta
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the martyr of antar
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ñusta
- Obsessed Roswellian
- Posts: 510
- Joined: Thu Nov 11, 2004 10:52 pm
- Location: heights of Machu Picchu
the martyr of antar
Chapter 62
First of all, our original planet was what is known to humans as Antares, the brightest star of the constellation of Scorpio. We were the best scientists of the known Universe, mainly because we had dared to do the unthinkable : tamper with the spiritual world and believe in ESP, using it to develop our brains to their full possibilities. This gave us powers that should be available to everyone who could fully use their brains. Of course, it was misunderstood and attributed to witchcraft and other such nonsense. Still they respected us, although it was through unfounded fear. During that time, every peaceful planet lived under the threat of the scavengers, who abducted living creatures from all over the universe, to be sold as slaves. We were spared because we had agreed to help them with a gadget we invented, actually a patch, that they could attach to any creature’s neck and adjust it to the atmosphere of the planet to which they would be sold, as an insurance that the newly bought slave wouldn’t die on them within the next few days. These outaws could land on our planet anytime they needed us to help them repair any malfunctioning craft. So they let us be. Then one fateful day, a large fleet of scavengers landed on their way back after a very successful roundup, their crafts full of abductees, and a badly damaged craft, which took us a couple of days to fix. The prisoners were always kept inside the crafts at all times, and we had never seen or even heard any of them. The night before they left, one prisoner managed to escape and beg one of our most brilliant scientists to help him. He identified himself as an earthling from the Andes mountains, of the Inca culture. We knew these people were one of the most valuable because of their skills in agronomy: they could grow anything anywhere, adapting the land to yield whatever they planted. We had a lot of respect for this race, and our scientist agreed to help him. He could tell that he had barely any trouble breathing our air, and could easily adapt to our planet. A few hours before the ship left, our scientist and his new friend had managed to hide away a group of his people with 3 couples of Mesaliko Indians from the same planet but from another hemisphere, who were the only survivors after a rare illness had done away with the rest of their abducted group. The Incas had accepted them with their group, and considered them as close as family. Our scientist filled the empty prison with the most realistic looking holograms, which would fade and disappear at the first physical contact, probably happening a few hours after they left our planet. Soon after the fleet departed, our scientist confessed what had happened, mainly so we could be ready for the scavengers’ imminent revenge. We couldn’t blame him, because any one of us would have done the same thing, should a prisoner have come asking for help. We knew the scavengers would not return until they had sold the whole load, which gave us some time to prepare a defense. We went underground and using our sophisticated computers, found 5 planets with the correct atmosphere and environment compatible with us. But we were peaceful people, and wouldn’t dream of imposing or forcing ourselves in already inhabited planets. Earth was one of the 5, but it was out of the question because of this problem. Two others were inhabited and developed, too, so that left us with only two. They had few scattered tribes of very primitive people, who could do with our help to develop their skills. Two crafts were sent to investigate the possibilities. One of them broke down just over a gaseous haze which to every traveller’s knowledge, hid the black holes: the most dreaded danger known, because once you were sucked in, you didn’t know where you would come out, if you did so at all. No craft that had fallen into one, had ever been seen or known of, again. When we received the distress message, we mourned their loss, but to our surprise, half an hour later, they contacted us to say that incredibly, there had not been a black hole under the haze, but a V shaped 5 planet galaxy, which they were currently exploring. They had not found any living creatures at all, except abundant vegetation, full of edible fruit, many safe water sources thriving in aquatic life, and a very comfortable temperature, compatible atmosphere, in other words, paradise. The other ship was recalled, and we worked underground 24/7 building the transports that would take us to our new home. In about three months, just as we had finished boarding the crafts, and loading our belongings including our king’s beloved horses, which had ironically been brought from Earth as a gift from the scavengers, our new enemies arrived by the hundreds, and scoured the planet looking for us. We were safely blocked from their simple technology, and we waited for them to get tired of searching uselessly. When their last ship left the planet, our crafts took off at our warp speed that made us invisible to other ships. We had just left our atmosphere, when our computers registered a massive explosion that totally destroyed our beloved abandoned home. Later we found out that Earth astronomers had recorded it as a Supernova. The Andes people were very excited at the prospect of the fertile land and the Mesaliko couldn’t wait to get to the water sources, as they said they were expert fishermen, although their native territory had no sea, they had plenty of lakes and rivers. We arrived at the largest planet at the tip of the V constellation. The scouts contacted us from the other 4 planets to say they were all similar, hardly any differences. Our king distributed the government of the planets between the 4 oldest and noblest families under the Royal Blood Family, which of course settled on the main planet, named Antar, after our lost home. There, our seers built a shrine for the Granalith, a cone shaped icon, which was a source of unending power, containing the ashes of every king, scientist, seer and sage, of our culture, our ancestors, their wisdom living inside it, being able to accomplish anything we needed, if it was asked for, following their strict rules. In the wrong hands, it would bring irreversible destruction. In our hands, it could answer correctly our every question, advise us reliably on any issue, and guide us unfailingly in the correct direction. Our first council meeting was held in Antar, a month after our arrival, when we were completely settled in our new homes. The main subject was our safety. We would not risk being attacked again, and although we knew we were safe thanks to the deceptive ruse that protected the galaxy from above, we couldn’t be without a defense of sorts. So it was decided that, in spite of our peaceful status, each planet would have their own army, fully armed and trained. We asked our contacts for help, and brought visitors from many warlike planets, who guided us and trained our newly formed soldiers to be the best in the universe. After that, fake battles would be staged, not only to maintain the training, but also as entertainment, and held during the weekends, scheduling them in a different planet, each time, in friendly competitions, which became much like the sports meetings of Earth. Soldiers were trained to control their urge to kill or damage each other during these “battles”, turning them into a pleasant way to socialize. This went on for centuries, and although there were no attacks, ever, we never let our guard down, always concerned on our survival. The king, and his second in command, led their army on horseback, as did the governors of the other four planets. Only one sad incident occurred, some 10 generations before, when a soldier of the Antar army, accidentally caused the king’s mount to trip. The king had a bad fall, and broke his neck, dying instantly. The council gave a perpetual law that forbade kings to participate in battles, real or staged. The king was replaced by his advisor brother, who was in turn replaced by the next brother, after a quick updating course. The intelligent way his horse had stood over his master, to protect him, was rewarded by submitting all horses to an also perpetual spell that rendered them untouchable by any weapon, keeping them from all harm possible. In spite of having lived an amazingly long period of time in absolute peace, it obviously couldn't last forever. We were never able to establish how and when the unavoidable seed of greed and ambition and also discontent, was so successfully planted in the brains of the younger generation, but it was. Gradually, our perfect society started getting exposed to outbursts of insolent demands, expressed in loud angry voices, completely out of line and without the least respect to their elders, who could only stare back, dumb with shock. At first, they were rare and quick, but with unbelievable speed, these soon became an uncomfortable everyday issue. Then they started getting aggressive, so the army had to threaten them with their intervention, if they didn't behave. That quieted them down for a short while, but they kept doing it, when the army was not around. The stressful situation took its toll in the Royal family. Usually, it consisted of at least 5 children, always with more males than females: 3 boys and two girls. When the problems began, the Royal families diminished considerably. The current king's family consisted of only 2 boys and 1 girl. The worst attack and the turning point came, when the Royal prince came of age and as custom required, the king abdicated in his favour. The younger brother, had always shown an inclination for the army, and had trained since a very young age. So now that his older brother was king, he became his second in command and warlord, leader of his Army. The Advisor, for lack of siblings, was of course, the new king's trusted best friend, of the oldest and noblest family, just under the Royals, who had trained for that place along with the king. The coronation took place in front of the castle, inside the citadel, but with open gates, and full security, the army surrounding the place completely, and the very next day, the new king married his betrothed, after the traditional 6 months deadline, which happened to end that very day. No one could have foreseen the tragedy that would ensue. The king, believed that the rebel youth would be pleased with a young king, like them, and trusting that everything would go as well as his coronation had, arrived in front of the Granalith’s shrine, in the centre of the capital city’s square. When the Royal chariot, carrying the fiancées and the king’s sister, as lady in waiting to the bride, stopped, it was blown to ashes, the invulnerable horses fled in terror, unscathed, back to the Royal stables. The reckless rebels cheered and shouted, taking full responsibility for the criminal act, staying at a safe distance. The army reacted to this outrage with unforgiving efficiency, without mercy, until all the heads were rolling on the floor. A mourning period of a week followed, and then an emergency council was held in the shrine, with the sages of the city: the oldest, wisest and most experienced inhabitants of the galaxy. A final decision was made. The king’s younger brother and warlord, was asked to step up and take the vacant throne, but he declined, truthfully saying he had no training for it, and right now, the army needed him to keep things under control. If he took the throne, he was automatically banned from battlefields, and that would be the end of their way of life, as they knew it. He himself suggested that the advisor should step up because he knew exactly what the king did, having trained together, and he would take the advisory, along with the army, so that every decision would have to be accepted by him, who was of Royal blood. It was the best and only sensible thing to do, and the council had to agree on it, for the good of the people. But not everyone took it well, although they respected the outcome. They lived a period of false security, as all the rebels of Antar were gone, and no crafts were allowed to land or leave the planet, isolating themselves completely. They were underestimating the ones remaining in the other 4 planets, who instead of desisting, as the older population presumed, got closer together, and found other ways to reach out for the remaining youth on Antar. Some of these were barely convinced sympathizers of the cause, not many, but enough to accept the mental communication that didn’t need the forbidden physical contact, rousing them to join their ranks. And now, this is where you guys come in. - Langley’s eyes twinkled in excitement.
First of all, our original planet was what is known to humans as Antares, the brightest star of the constellation of Scorpio. We were the best scientists of the known Universe, mainly because we had dared to do the unthinkable : tamper with the spiritual world and believe in ESP, using it to develop our brains to their full possibilities. This gave us powers that should be available to everyone who could fully use their brains. Of course, it was misunderstood and attributed to witchcraft and other such nonsense. Still they respected us, although it was through unfounded fear. During that time, every peaceful planet lived under the threat of the scavengers, who abducted living creatures from all over the universe, to be sold as slaves. We were spared because we had agreed to help them with a gadget we invented, actually a patch, that they could attach to any creature’s neck and adjust it to the atmosphere of the planet to which they would be sold, as an insurance that the newly bought slave wouldn’t die on them within the next few days. These outaws could land on our planet anytime they needed us to help them repair any malfunctioning craft. So they let us be. Then one fateful day, a large fleet of scavengers landed on their way back after a very successful roundup, their crafts full of abductees, and a badly damaged craft, which took us a couple of days to fix. The prisoners were always kept inside the crafts at all times, and we had never seen or even heard any of them. The night before they left, one prisoner managed to escape and beg one of our most brilliant scientists to help him. He identified himself as an earthling from the Andes mountains, of the Inca culture. We knew these people were one of the most valuable because of their skills in agronomy: they could grow anything anywhere, adapting the land to yield whatever they planted. We had a lot of respect for this race, and our scientist agreed to help him. He could tell that he had barely any trouble breathing our air, and could easily adapt to our planet. A few hours before the ship left, our scientist and his new friend had managed to hide away a group of his people with 3 couples of Mesaliko Indians from the same planet but from another hemisphere, who were the only survivors after a rare illness had done away with the rest of their abducted group. The Incas had accepted them with their group, and considered them as close as family. Our scientist filled the empty prison with the most realistic looking holograms, which would fade and disappear at the first physical contact, probably happening a few hours after they left our planet. Soon after the fleet departed, our scientist confessed what had happened, mainly so we could be ready for the scavengers’ imminent revenge. We couldn’t blame him, because any one of us would have done the same thing, should a prisoner have come asking for help. We knew the scavengers would not return until they had sold the whole load, which gave us some time to prepare a defense. We went underground and using our sophisticated computers, found 5 planets with the correct atmosphere and environment compatible with us. But we were peaceful people, and wouldn’t dream of imposing or forcing ourselves in already inhabited planets. Earth was one of the 5, but it was out of the question because of this problem. Two others were inhabited and developed, too, so that left us with only two. They had few scattered tribes of very primitive people, who could do with our help to develop their skills. Two crafts were sent to investigate the possibilities. One of them broke down just over a gaseous haze which to every traveller’s knowledge, hid the black holes: the most dreaded danger known, because once you were sucked in, you didn’t know where you would come out, if you did so at all. No craft that had fallen into one, had ever been seen or known of, again. When we received the distress message, we mourned their loss, but to our surprise, half an hour later, they contacted us to say that incredibly, there had not been a black hole under the haze, but a V shaped 5 planet galaxy, which they were currently exploring. They had not found any living creatures at all, except abundant vegetation, full of edible fruit, many safe water sources thriving in aquatic life, and a very comfortable temperature, compatible atmosphere, in other words, paradise. The other ship was recalled, and we worked underground 24/7 building the transports that would take us to our new home. In about three months, just as we had finished boarding the crafts, and loading our belongings including our king’s beloved horses, which had ironically been brought from Earth as a gift from the scavengers, our new enemies arrived by the hundreds, and scoured the planet looking for us. We were safely blocked from their simple technology, and we waited for them to get tired of searching uselessly. When their last ship left the planet, our crafts took off at our warp speed that made us invisible to other ships. We had just left our atmosphere, when our computers registered a massive explosion that totally destroyed our beloved abandoned home. Later we found out that Earth astronomers had recorded it as a Supernova. The Andes people were very excited at the prospect of the fertile land and the Mesaliko couldn’t wait to get to the water sources, as they said they were expert fishermen, although their native territory had no sea, they had plenty of lakes and rivers. We arrived at the largest planet at the tip of the V constellation. The scouts contacted us from the other 4 planets to say they were all similar, hardly any differences. Our king distributed the government of the planets between the 4 oldest and noblest families under the Royal Blood Family, which of course settled on the main planet, named Antar, after our lost home. There, our seers built a shrine for the Granalith, a cone shaped icon, which was a source of unending power, containing the ashes of every king, scientist, seer and sage, of our culture, our ancestors, their wisdom living inside it, being able to accomplish anything we needed, if it was asked for, following their strict rules. In the wrong hands, it would bring irreversible destruction. In our hands, it could answer correctly our every question, advise us reliably on any issue, and guide us unfailingly in the correct direction. Our first council meeting was held in Antar, a month after our arrival, when we were completely settled in our new homes. The main subject was our safety. We would not risk being attacked again, and although we knew we were safe thanks to the deceptive ruse that protected the galaxy from above, we couldn’t be without a defense of sorts. So it was decided that, in spite of our peaceful status, each planet would have their own army, fully armed and trained. We asked our contacts for help, and brought visitors from many warlike planets, who guided us and trained our newly formed soldiers to be the best in the universe. After that, fake battles would be staged, not only to maintain the training, but also as entertainment, and held during the weekends, scheduling them in a different planet, each time, in friendly competitions, which became much like the sports meetings of Earth. Soldiers were trained to control their urge to kill or damage each other during these “battles”, turning them into a pleasant way to socialize. This went on for centuries, and although there were no attacks, ever, we never let our guard down, always concerned on our survival. The king, and his second in command, led their army on horseback, as did the governors of the other four planets. Only one sad incident occurred, some 10 generations before, when a soldier of the Antar army, accidentally caused the king’s mount to trip. The king had a bad fall, and broke his neck, dying instantly. The council gave a perpetual law that forbade kings to participate in battles, real or staged. The king was replaced by his advisor brother, who was in turn replaced by the next brother, after a quick updating course. The intelligent way his horse had stood over his master, to protect him, was rewarded by submitting all horses to an also perpetual spell that rendered them untouchable by any weapon, keeping them from all harm possible. In spite of having lived an amazingly long period of time in absolute peace, it obviously couldn't last forever. We were never able to establish how and when the unavoidable seed of greed and ambition and also discontent, was so successfully planted in the brains of the younger generation, but it was. Gradually, our perfect society started getting exposed to outbursts of insolent demands, expressed in loud angry voices, completely out of line and without the least respect to their elders, who could only stare back, dumb with shock. At first, they were rare and quick, but with unbelievable speed, these soon became an uncomfortable everyday issue. Then they started getting aggressive, so the army had to threaten them with their intervention, if they didn't behave. That quieted them down for a short while, but they kept doing it, when the army was not around. The stressful situation took its toll in the Royal family. Usually, it consisted of at least 5 children, always with more males than females: 3 boys and two girls. When the problems began, the Royal families diminished considerably. The current king's family consisted of only 2 boys and 1 girl. The worst attack and the turning point came, when the Royal prince came of age and as custom required, the king abdicated in his favour. The younger brother, had always shown an inclination for the army, and had trained since a very young age. So now that his older brother was king, he became his second in command and warlord, leader of his Army. The Advisor, for lack of siblings, was of course, the new king's trusted best friend, of the oldest and noblest family, just under the Royals, who had trained for that place along with the king. The coronation took place in front of the castle, inside the citadel, but with open gates, and full security, the army surrounding the place completely, and the very next day, the new king married his betrothed, after the traditional 6 months deadline, which happened to end that very day. No one could have foreseen the tragedy that would ensue. The king, believed that the rebel youth would be pleased with a young king, like them, and trusting that everything would go as well as his coronation had, arrived in front of the Granalith’s shrine, in the centre of the capital city’s square. When the Royal chariot, carrying the fiancées and the king’s sister, as lady in waiting to the bride, stopped, it was blown to ashes, the invulnerable horses fled in terror, unscathed, back to the Royal stables. The reckless rebels cheered and shouted, taking full responsibility for the criminal act, staying at a safe distance. The army reacted to this outrage with unforgiving efficiency, without mercy, until all the heads were rolling on the floor. A mourning period of a week followed, and then an emergency council was held in the shrine, with the sages of the city: the oldest, wisest and most experienced inhabitants of the galaxy. A final decision was made. The king’s younger brother and warlord, was asked to step up and take the vacant throne, but he declined, truthfully saying he had no training for it, and right now, the army needed him to keep things under control. If he took the throne, he was automatically banned from battlefields, and that would be the end of their way of life, as they knew it. He himself suggested that the advisor should step up because he knew exactly what the king did, having trained together, and he would take the advisory, along with the army, so that every decision would have to be accepted by him, who was of Royal blood. It was the best and only sensible thing to do, and the council had to agree on it, for the good of the people. But not everyone took it well, although they respected the outcome. They lived a period of false security, as all the rebels of Antar were gone, and no crafts were allowed to land or leave the planet, isolating themselves completely. They were underestimating the ones remaining in the other 4 planets, who instead of desisting, as the older population presumed, got closer together, and found other ways to reach out for the remaining youth on Antar. Some of these were barely convinced sympathizers of the cause, not many, but enough to accept the mental communication that didn’t need the forbidden physical contact, rousing them to join their ranks. And now, this is where you guys come in. - Langley’s eyes twinkled in excitement.
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ñusta
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the martyr of antar
Chapter 63
The late king was hardly missed by his people as he hadn’t ruled at all. His second in command and leader of his army, was right now the most powerful one in the planet, having the advisory also on his shoulders. He had trained with his father from a young age, and they functioned as one single soldier, with the same reactions, flawless unfailing strategies, and perfect timing for the attack. But he had something his father lacked: a deep understanding and respect for the enemy, so facing him in a battle, even knowing that it was certain death, was an honour by which they would be remembered by those they left behind. During these 3 last violent years, sensing his time would be soon up, his father had stepped back, giving him the upper hand, and he had passed every test with flying colours. So he took over his task immediately. Anyway, in the battlefield, where he was on his own, he had to make the decisions, with no one to turn to, even if they weren’t what the king and advisor had agreed on. He was always right, guiding his soldiers to victory, and the people of Antar had to admit that the council, as usual, had made the best choice.
The retired king was of no help whatsoever, sitting on a chair all day, staring blankly at the sky, where his son’s ashes had dispersed, to finally settle down and be gathered to join his ancestors in the Granalith.
The current king had been backed up during a month by his father, the previous advisor, retired with his king. Then, as was expected in these convulsed times, he ruled only in name, uncomfortable by the fact that he knew he was not completely accepted by the inhabitants of the planet, who had began to call him the “usurper”, in hushed, secret whispers, unknown yet to him, but not for long. He was a somber character, as advisors usually were, spending most of his time at the castle’s computer, which had direct access to the one of the scientists, also accessing the whole known universe. He sucked information as a sponge, not because he was so bright or very intelligent, but because he had trained his brain to a photographic memory. His username was simply “granny”, for the granalith, but translated automatically in the language of the being he was in contact with, to the word with the same innocent connotation, so they were ignorant of his alien status. He had practically no contact with his people, whose only concern right now, was for the Royal blood line. The warlord’s parents were too old to produce any more heirs, and it depended entirely on him for the Royal blood line to continue. The new king already had a son, and his wife had been very pregnant, past her fifth month and due any day when he was crowned. She had a girl, to everyone’s relief, 2 weeks after, 3 days after her son had his first birthday. The healers gave her the sad news that she wouldn’t be able to have any more children, and this is what probably saved her and the child from the hands of the rebels. But the only member of the Royal blood line, Ramthis, was feeling the pressure of his people, demanding he married and gave them Royal blood heirs. Willing to please them, he started a search for a Royal bride, many prospects were brought to him through the safety of the Granalith’s powers, to be sent back home soon after, as Ramthis did not find one who really pleased him. During that period of almost a year, he had been consoled by the king’s sister, who acted as a close friend, full of sympathy for his ordeal, and always talking with him and keeping him company. She was a beautiful woman, and one day, as Ramthis confided his utter disappointment, it simply clicked, and he realized she was perfect for him. He informed the king of his decision, of honouring his family, and two weeks later, exactly a year after the fateful crowning, in a brilliant partly political move, the betrothal was announced. Then there were the six traditional months before the wedding, in which the shocked people understood that Ramthis was not only trying to make things easier for the unstable king, but he was really in love with his bride, and people began to like and respect her. The king was apparently pleased by the better acceptance he was getting, but deep inside, he had hoped his luck would hold, and maybe, his son would be the future king. The boy was his spitting image, and like him, rather antisocial and uncharismatic, just what he needed to become a spoiled brat, with his father always on his side, no matter what. The wedding came at last, very privately, packed with security, and soon the happy bride was pregnant and announcing the news to the delighted people. Only one parent with Royal blood was needed for the children to inherit it, so the blood line of the child was secured. During her pregnancy, the scientists had brought to her an earthling, who was “visiting” them constantly. He was a young boy of about 17 years of age, and the reason he was being abducted regularly, was because he was being unfairly mistreated by his father. He had a twin brother who had been born some minutes before him, and somehow the father, seemed to dislike the younger boy, because he had not been expected. She was very happy with him, and she kept her company during Ramthis’ battles, entertaining her with tales of his planet and its strange acting people. Since the retired king had no longer use of his shield, the scientists had transferred it to Ramthis, to ensure his safety against the enemy weapons, so his bride would have no worries and her Royal blood child would be the gift the people wanted so much. Of course the time the human spent in Antar was scarcely minutes away from his planet, thanks to the scientists warp speed, but in Antar, he stayed for several hours, when his alien friend needed him. The last conversation they had together, was just before she went into labour. She had asked him she wanted to know why he said his father didn’t like him because she couldn’t believe him, and she forced a physical contact with him, taking both his hands in hers, being able to see how his father mistreated him. He pulled away, because he had never wanted to upset her, specially at this time. She had tears in her eyes, but he told her not to cry for him because he was leaving his home for a better place, and soon he would take his love, the next door girl, to share his life, so he wanted her to be happy for him, and for the child she was about to have. That dried her tears and forced a smile out of her, asking him if he was saying goodbye, as she suspected. He told her he was going to do this sooner, but had waited until he could leave her with her child, and wouldn’t miss him. She thanked him, and closed her eyes, as she fell into the trance of labour. He waited until her boy was born, in perfect health, and left for good. She opened her eyes, smiling with joy as the healer placed the softly crying baby in her arms. It was 15 minutes before midnight, and five minutes later, her husband was rushing into the room to take his son in his arms. Then, 10 minutes later, she closed her eyes again and another boy was born, to everyone’s surprise, as twins were unheard of in Antar. This second boy came into his world in a breech presentation, which was also never seen before in the planet, everything was unusual about this child, but he was very alive, stronger and screamed lustily until he was placed in his perplexed mother’s arms, where he immediately fell into a peaceful sleep. Both healers and scientists were trying to figure out what had happened. The coincidence being that the human, that had been in contact with the mother during her pregnancy, was a twin, and he had constantly taken her hands in his, or the other way round, during their conversations. Whatever had happened, Ramthis thought they were lucky to have 2 boys, with the birth issues that had been plaguing the Royal families these last generations. The elder boy was named Rath, after his great-grandfather, and the younger one was named Michael, after the human boy, which sounded alien and interesting. For 3 months, the boys thrived and grew, their differences very apparent. The younger one was stronger and demanding. The elder, quiet and accepting. Their cousin, the king’s little girl, along with the mother, were the only ones who could handle the young one, who was a handful, but smiled and gurgled with the two females he seemed to love as one. That night, as the Royal blood twins went to sleep in their mother’s arms, something happened, which could never be explained, and in the morning, Ramthis awoke beside his wife to a chill that came from his left side. To his horror, he saw his wife and the elder twin, covered in a blue pallor, as the younger boy was lying beside his mother but not touching her at all. Ramthis screamed the place down, but the healers and scientists could only confirm they were dead. The surviving twin was burning with fever, but recovered in a matter of hours, and was placed in the room of the king’s children, with his trusted nanny, and his cousin’s attentions. After the funeral, Ramthis moved to the barracks, and spent 6 months away from the castle and his son, who looked more like his mother with each passing day. It took the warlord that period of time to make his peace with his son, and return to the castle, to face the healers and the scientists, who said they had discovered the mystery of the recent deaths. During her pregnancy, the mother had taken a liking for a certain spice, which though it grew in Antar, it was not in much use, having irritating effects, and the Andes people, didn’t recommend it on her current state. But she insisted and they had to comply. This spice counteracted with her hormones, which had kicked in because of her pregnancy, gradually poisoning her blood, and her children’s. Somehow, the younger, who had begun to form after his brother, had managed to develop a defense against it which the older brother had had no time to do so. Being the younger one, in this case, was what saved him. The coldness of his dead mother had urged him to pull away from her, and the lack of the physical contact with her, that he was used to, had given him the fever. It had been and unfortunate accident, and no one was to blame, but still it was a tragedy, as Antares people were exclusively monogamous and Ramthis would not marry again. Then at the 6 month ceremony, when the Royal blood child was to be presented to the Granalith, Ramthis announced him as Rath-Michael, using both his sons’ names, saying that since they had been identical twins, and only he had survived, he should bear the names of both boys, so he would have the strength of two, and it was accepted by the council.
The late king was hardly missed by his people as he hadn’t ruled at all. His second in command and leader of his army, was right now the most powerful one in the planet, having the advisory also on his shoulders. He had trained with his father from a young age, and they functioned as one single soldier, with the same reactions, flawless unfailing strategies, and perfect timing for the attack. But he had something his father lacked: a deep understanding and respect for the enemy, so facing him in a battle, even knowing that it was certain death, was an honour by which they would be remembered by those they left behind. During these 3 last violent years, sensing his time would be soon up, his father had stepped back, giving him the upper hand, and he had passed every test with flying colours. So he took over his task immediately. Anyway, in the battlefield, where he was on his own, he had to make the decisions, with no one to turn to, even if they weren’t what the king and advisor had agreed on. He was always right, guiding his soldiers to victory, and the people of Antar had to admit that the council, as usual, had made the best choice.
The retired king was of no help whatsoever, sitting on a chair all day, staring blankly at the sky, where his son’s ashes had dispersed, to finally settle down and be gathered to join his ancestors in the Granalith.
The current king had been backed up during a month by his father, the previous advisor, retired with his king. Then, as was expected in these convulsed times, he ruled only in name, uncomfortable by the fact that he knew he was not completely accepted by the inhabitants of the planet, who had began to call him the “usurper”, in hushed, secret whispers, unknown yet to him, but not for long. He was a somber character, as advisors usually were, spending most of his time at the castle’s computer, which had direct access to the one of the scientists, also accessing the whole known universe. He sucked information as a sponge, not because he was so bright or very intelligent, but because he had trained his brain to a photographic memory. His username was simply “granny”, for the granalith, but translated automatically in the language of the being he was in contact with, to the word with the same innocent connotation, so they were ignorant of his alien status. He had practically no contact with his people, whose only concern right now, was for the Royal blood line. The warlord’s parents were too old to produce any more heirs, and it depended entirely on him for the Royal blood line to continue. The new king already had a son, and his wife had been very pregnant, past her fifth month and due any day when he was crowned. She had a girl, to everyone’s relief, 2 weeks after, 3 days after her son had his first birthday. The healers gave her the sad news that she wouldn’t be able to have any more children, and this is what probably saved her and the child from the hands of the rebels. But the only member of the Royal blood line, Ramthis, was feeling the pressure of his people, demanding he married and gave them Royal blood heirs. Willing to please them, he started a search for a Royal bride, many prospects were brought to him through the safety of the Granalith’s powers, to be sent back home soon after, as Ramthis did not find one who really pleased him. During that period of almost a year, he had been consoled by the king’s sister, who acted as a close friend, full of sympathy for his ordeal, and always talking with him and keeping him company. She was a beautiful woman, and one day, as Ramthis confided his utter disappointment, it simply clicked, and he realized she was perfect for him. He informed the king of his decision, of honouring his family, and two weeks later, exactly a year after the fateful crowning, in a brilliant partly political move, the betrothal was announced. Then there were the six traditional months before the wedding, in which the shocked people understood that Ramthis was not only trying to make things easier for the unstable king, but he was really in love with his bride, and people began to like and respect her. The king was apparently pleased by the better acceptance he was getting, but deep inside, he had hoped his luck would hold, and maybe, his son would be the future king. The boy was his spitting image, and like him, rather antisocial and uncharismatic, just what he needed to become a spoiled brat, with his father always on his side, no matter what. The wedding came at last, very privately, packed with security, and soon the happy bride was pregnant and announcing the news to the delighted people. Only one parent with Royal blood was needed for the children to inherit it, so the blood line of the child was secured. During her pregnancy, the scientists had brought to her an earthling, who was “visiting” them constantly. He was a young boy of about 17 years of age, and the reason he was being abducted regularly, was because he was being unfairly mistreated by his father. He had a twin brother who had been born some minutes before him, and somehow the father, seemed to dislike the younger boy, because he had not been expected. She was very happy with him, and she kept her company during Ramthis’ battles, entertaining her with tales of his planet and its strange acting people. Since the retired king had no longer use of his shield, the scientists had transferred it to Ramthis, to ensure his safety against the enemy weapons, so his bride would have no worries and her Royal blood child would be the gift the people wanted so much. Of course the time the human spent in Antar was scarcely minutes away from his planet, thanks to the scientists warp speed, but in Antar, he stayed for several hours, when his alien friend needed him. The last conversation they had together, was just before she went into labour. She had asked him she wanted to know why he said his father didn’t like him because she couldn’t believe him, and she forced a physical contact with him, taking both his hands in hers, being able to see how his father mistreated him. He pulled away, because he had never wanted to upset her, specially at this time. She had tears in her eyes, but he told her not to cry for him because he was leaving his home for a better place, and soon he would take his love, the next door girl, to share his life, so he wanted her to be happy for him, and for the child she was about to have. That dried her tears and forced a smile out of her, asking him if he was saying goodbye, as she suspected. He told her he was going to do this sooner, but had waited until he could leave her with her child, and wouldn’t miss him. She thanked him, and closed her eyes, as she fell into the trance of labour. He waited until her boy was born, in perfect health, and left for good. She opened her eyes, smiling with joy as the healer placed the softly crying baby in her arms. It was 15 minutes before midnight, and five minutes later, her husband was rushing into the room to take his son in his arms. Then, 10 minutes later, she closed her eyes again and another boy was born, to everyone’s surprise, as twins were unheard of in Antar. This second boy came into his world in a breech presentation, which was also never seen before in the planet, everything was unusual about this child, but he was very alive, stronger and screamed lustily until he was placed in his perplexed mother’s arms, where he immediately fell into a peaceful sleep. Both healers and scientists were trying to figure out what had happened. The coincidence being that the human, that had been in contact with the mother during her pregnancy, was a twin, and he had constantly taken her hands in his, or the other way round, during their conversations. Whatever had happened, Ramthis thought they were lucky to have 2 boys, with the birth issues that had been plaguing the Royal families these last generations. The elder boy was named Rath, after his great-grandfather, and the younger one was named Michael, after the human boy, which sounded alien and interesting. For 3 months, the boys thrived and grew, their differences very apparent. The younger one was stronger and demanding. The elder, quiet and accepting. Their cousin, the king’s little girl, along with the mother, were the only ones who could handle the young one, who was a handful, but smiled and gurgled with the two females he seemed to love as one. That night, as the Royal blood twins went to sleep in their mother’s arms, something happened, which could never be explained, and in the morning, Ramthis awoke beside his wife to a chill that came from his left side. To his horror, he saw his wife and the elder twin, covered in a blue pallor, as the younger boy was lying beside his mother but not touching her at all. Ramthis screamed the place down, but the healers and scientists could only confirm they were dead. The surviving twin was burning with fever, but recovered in a matter of hours, and was placed in the room of the king’s children, with his trusted nanny, and his cousin’s attentions. After the funeral, Ramthis moved to the barracks, and spent 6 months away from the castle and his son, who looked more like his mother with each passing day. It took the warlord that period of time to make his peace with his son, and return to the castle, to face the healers and the scientists, who said they had discovered the mystery of the recent deaths. During her pregnancy, the mother had taken a liking for a certain spice, which though it grew in Antar, it was not in much use, having irritating effects, and the Andes people, didn’t recommend it on her current state. But she insisted and they had to comply. This spice counteracted with her hormones, which had kicked in because of her pregnancy, gradually poisoning her blood, and her children’s. Somehow, the younger, who had begun to form after his brother, had managed to develop a defense against it which the older brother had had no time to do so. Being the younger one, in this case, was what saved him. The coldness of his dead mother had urged him to pull away from her, and the lack of the physical contact with her, that he was used to, had given him the fever. It had been and unfortunate accident, and no one was to blame, but still it was a tragedy, as Antares people were exclusively monogamous and Ramthis would not marry again. Then at the 6 month ceremony, when the Royal blood child was to be presented to the Granalith, Ramthis announced him as Rath-Michael, using both his sons’ names, saying that since they had been identical twins, and only he had survived, he should bear the names of both boys, so he would have the strength of two, and it was accepted by the council.
ALIENS FULL TILT!
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ñusta
- Obsessed Roswellian
- Posts: 510
- Joined: Thu Nov 11, 2004 10:52 pm
- Location: heights of Machu Picchu
the martyr of antar
Chapter 64
By the time Rath-Michael turned 1 year old, his 3 year old cousin Vilandra, had become his mother, his sister and his best friend. They loved each other dearly. His other cousin Zan, on the contrary, didn’t enjoy their company and preferred to spend all the time possible with his father, who started an early training, with the excuse of turning him into the best advisor ever, but secretly nursing the possibility of the throne. One of the reasons for Zan to stay away from his sister and cousin, was the fact that he hated how everyone drooled over Rath-Michael, saying how handsome he was, and what a big boy. He also hated the way his sister was always hugging him and kissing him and touching him. Zan knew he was a thin scrawny wisp, and the other boy was big for his age and a chunk. No wonder his sister would just cringe at even the thought of touching him, when she could crush the cuddly child in her arms as if he were a treasure. He hated him and he hated his sister, too, his father was so much better, because he always rewarded him on even his smallest and simple accomplishments, when he remembered everything he had been taught the day before. The king was giving his son his own photographic memory, hoping it would help his purposes, in the future. Ramthis would come to the castle at lunch time, after the army training hours, and enjoy the company of his boy, taking him riding with him in the afternoon, holding him in front of him and letting him take the reins. They would ride through the citadel to the joy of the people, who loved the sight of the strong healthy heir. When Rath-Michael turned 3, he looked twice his age, and was given a mare of his own, which he rode beside his father, to Zan’s envy, because Vilandra was always welcome to ride behind him, and the people loved her too. Then, at 5, the boy had decided to be a soldier like his father. Ramthis told him he was destined to be the king, and to forget about the army. He was already training the sons of his best officers to choose one to eventually replace him, but so far, none of them showed any promise. Rath-Michael was angry and stubbornly stated that he didn’t want to be king, but a soldier, to his father’s distress. The very next day, he was forced out of bed to go to a classroom and begin his training for the throne, with his cousin Zan, who would train with him to be his advisor. Rath-Michael kept falling asleep, and the king’s father, who was the teacher, and didn’t have the slightest suspicion of his son’s plans for his grand-child, was desperate at the young heir’s reluctance. After a month of classroom torture, Rath-Michael called it quits, he simply walked out of the room and went to the stables. He asked the black stable lad to get his mare ready, and show him how to do it. The man who adored the little boy and his master, did as he was told. Rath-Michael rode to the barracks in the middle of the training, and answered his father’s question in what Ramthis considered an insolent way. He ordered him back to the classroom, and the boy simply refused, saying this was where he should be and he wanted to start training in the army. The warlord was furious, he pulled the boy off the mare over his shoulder, then he sat down and pushed him over his lap, baring his ass and spanking him in front of all the troops. When he thought it was enough, he got up and sent the boy sprawling on his belly. He thought he would be crying and ashamed, but to his surprise, the boy just got up, pulled up his pants and faced him defiantly. Ramthis shouted to his son to return to the classroom, but the boy replied he wouldn’t, no matter what he did to him. The father decided to give him a lesson, and ordered him to get on his mare and ride beside him. Knowing the mare would follow his horse’s every move, he gave him a workout to make sure he would fall off on the way, with the pain of the beating he had received, but the stubborn boy finished the exercise without a complaint, gritting his teeth, and without shedding even one tear. Ramthis couldn’t help being impressed, as were the audience, so at the end, he rode home with the boy, who collapsed in his arms as he dismounted, burning with fever. He had to spend the rest of the week, recovering in bed, gloating at the fact that he got his way and missed the dreaded classes, plus having the constant attentions of Vilandra who said it was the bravest thing ever. Zan only went to the room as late as possible, just to sleep, and rise at dawn to have a huge breakfast before attending classes, glad to be as far as possible from his sister and cousin. This became a problem between father and son, because it kept happening all the time, even Ramthis’ talks with the boy, trying to convince him to take his rightful place, only worked to have the boy in the classroom for a half hour at the most, and then he would get bored and go away to the barracks. Ramthis was tired of beating him, with his hands, with a cane, with the riding crop, or whatever he had at hand, but the boy simply took it as part of the training to be stronger and tougher. Ramthis was going out of his mind, not even Vilandra could convince his rebellious son. She was more easily convinced by the boy to go riding with him to the lakes and spend the afternoon bathing and lying in the sun. Sometimes he would bear with the boy, feeling totally discouraged, but when he returned home after his fun with his cousin, Ramthis’ patience had already run out, and Rath-Michael would get his spanking in front of his annoying cousin Zan, who grinned with wicked pleasure at his cousin’s fair punishment. Of course, neither the king nor his son did anything to help, seeing the throne closer to their hands and thanking their luck at the young heir’s behaviour.
By the time Rath-Michael turned 1 year old, his 3 year old cousin Vilandra, had become his mother, his sister and his best friend. They loved each other dearly. His other cousin Zan, on the contrary, didn’t enjoy their company and preferred to spend all the time possible with his father, who started an early training, with the excuse of turning him into the best advisor ever, but secretly nursing the possibility of the throne. One of the reasons for Zan to stay away from his sister and cousin, was the fact that he hated how everyone drooled over Rath-Michael, saying how handsome he was, and what a big boy. He also hated the way his sister was always hugging him and kissing him and touching him. Zan knew he was a thin scrawny wisp, and the other boy was big for his age and a chunk. No wonder his sister would just cringe at even the thought of touching him, when she could crush the cuddly child in her arms as if he were a treasure. He hated him and he hated his sister, too, his father was so much better, because he always rewarded him on even his smallest and simple accomplishments, when he remembered everything he had been taught the day before. The king was giving his son his own photographic memory, hoping it would help his purposes, in the future. Ramthis would come to the castle at lunch time, after the army training hours, and enjoy the company of his boy, taking him riding with him in the afternoon, holding him in front of him and letting him take the reins. They would ride through the citadel to the joy of the people, who loved the sight of the strong healthy heir. When Rath-Michael turned 3, he looked twice his age, and was given a mare of his own, which he rode beside his father, to Zan’s envy, because Vilandra was always welcome to ride behind him, and the people loved her too. Then, at 5, the boy had decided to be a soldier like his father. Ramthis told him he was destined to be the king, and to forget about the army. He was already training the sons of his best officers to choose one to eventually replace him, but so far, none of them showed any promise. Rath-Michael was angry and stubbornly stated that he didn’t want to be king, but a soldier, to his father’s distress. The very next day, he was forced out of bed to go to a classroom and begin his training for the throne, with his cousin Zan, who would train with him to be his advisor. Rath-Michael kept falling asleep, and the king’s father, who was the teacher, and didn’t have the slightest suspicion of his son’s plans for his grand-child, was desperate at the young heir’s reluctance. After a month of classroom torture, Rath-Michael called it quits, he simply walked out of the room and went to the stables. He asked the black stable lad to get his mare ready, and show him how to do it. The man who adored the little boy and his master, did as he was told. Rath-Michael rode to the barracks in the middle of the training, and answered his father’s question in what Ramthis considered an insolent way. He ordered him back to the classroom, and the boy simply refused, saying this was where he should be and he wanted to start training in the army. The warlord was furious, he pulled the boy off the mare over his shoulder, then he sat down and pushed him over his lap, baring his ass and spanking him in front of all the troops. When he thought it was enough, he got up and sent the boy sprawling on his belly. He thought he would be crying and ashamed, but to his surprise, the boy just got up, pulled up his pants and faced him defiantly. Ramthis shouted to his son to return to the classroom, but the boy replied he wouldn’t, no matter what he did to him. The father decided to give him a lesson, and ordered him to get on his mare and ride beside him. Knowing the mare would follow his horse’s every move, he gave him a workout to make sure he would fall off on the way, with the pain of the beating he had received, but the stubborn boy finished the exercise without a complaint, gritting his teeth, and without shedding even one tear. Ramthis couldn’t help being impressed, as were the audience, so at the end, he rode home with the boy, who collapsed in his arms as he dismounted, burning with fever. He had to spend the rest of the week, recovering in bed, gloating at the fact that he got his way and missed the dreaded classes, plus having the constant attentions of Vilandra who said it was the bravest thing ever. Zan only went to the room as late as possible, just to sleep, and rise at dawn to have a huge breakfast before attending classes, glad to be as far as possible from his sister and cousin. This became a problem between father and son, because it kept happening all the time, even Ramthis’ talks with the boy, trying to convince him to take his rightful place, only worked to have the boy in the classroom for a half hour at the most, and then he would get bored and go away to the barracks. Ramthis was tired of beating him, with his hands, with a cane, with the riding crop, or whatever he had at hand, but the boy simply took it as part of the training to be stronger and tougher. Ramthis was going out of his mind, not even Vilandra could convince his rebellious son. She was more easily convinced by the boy to go riding with him to the lakes and spend the afternoon bathing and lying in the sun. Sometimes he would bear with the boy, feeling totally discouraged, but when he returned home after his fun with his cousin, Ramthis’ patience had already run out, and Rath-Michael would get his spanking in front of his annoying cousin Zan, who grinned with wicked pleasure at his cousin’s fair punishment. Of course, neither the king nor his son did anything to help, seeing the throne closer to their hands and thanking their luck at the young heir’s behaviour.
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ñusta
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the martyr of antar
Chapter 64
So, for the next 7 years, Rath-Michael accepted being dragged out of bed by Vilandra, as Zan rushed out of the room to his classes, and the black stable lad heaved the sleepy boy over his shoulder, sat him on his mare, hand him a huge glass of concentrated fruit juice containing every natural nutrient possible, and let the mare take him to the barracks, as he lay asleep on her neck. But the second he arrived, his father’s voice made him bolt upright, and he gave all he could. After the training, father and son went home, and after lunch, Rath-Michael and Vilandra rode now openly to the lakes where he would sleep most of the afternoon, with his face on her lap. This didn’t mean the beatings stopped, Rath-Michael was always pulling stunts that made his father lose his patience. When he was 9, he rode half asleep as usual towards the barracks, but soon after, he turned around and knowing the black man had gone to mix the horses’ food, he slid off the mare, took a halter and got it on his father’s most treasured and spirited stallion, whom he had befriended with the treats he liked most, and with the help of the bales of dried fodder, he leapt on the animal’s back and raced out of the pen jumping over the fence. His mare followed hot on his tracks, as the black man looked on sadly, sure of his master’s fury. Ramthis was livid, when he saw him arrive, riding bareback, and everyone cheering at the way he managed the fiery horse, even better than his father. Ramthis gave his reckless son a severe beating, made him mount again and called it a day. Then, mounting his own horse, he took the halter’s rope from the barely conscious boy’s hand, and returned home, with the mare in tow. He yelled for the stable lad, who wasn’t expecting them so soon, and his angry voice brought most of the household out in alarm. Ramthis ordered the black man down on his knees, and had two servants open his shirt. Then he had a wicked looking whip brought to him from the abandoned torture chamber, and raised it to lash at the guilty man’s exposed chest.
Rath-Michael was off his horse in a second, and before the whip hit his friend, the boy threw himself on the man, wrapping his arms around him and receiving the blow meant for an adult, in all its fury. His back was ripped open from shoulder to hip, and Ramthis dropped the whip in shock. He stood there trembling, watching his son’s blood soak his thin shirt, only Vilandra reacted running to the duo on the floor, hugging Rath-Michael to her, and stanching his blood with the front of her dress. The king, queen and Zan watched open mouthed, and it was the ex-advisor teacher the only one who reacted and went to drag his grand-daughter away from the hurt boy and heave him over his shoulder, rushing to the house. He yelled at anyone to get the healers, snapping them to action, with Vilandra running full speed beside him. Zan, of course, took part in the healing, as he always did, his powers progressing by bounds, specially because he was able to practice quite often, thanks to his cousin’s amazing frequency in getting hurt, and the fact that their fathers had already decided he would be Rath-Michael’s own healer. Vilandra had always wished she had the power, but unfortunately, she hadn’t, and Zan did. The black man was spared, and his love for the boy was as big as his gratitude. Once Rath-Michael was healed, he made his father promise that he wouldn’t punish Geehan, because it wasn’t his fault. Rath-Michael admitted he had fooled him and he deserved what had happened. The boy spent another week, until he was back on his feet, enjoying Vilandra’s care whose love and admiration for his cousin had no limits. When Zan turned 13, he demanded his own room, which he was granted immediately, just next door, but only his. He was sick of his roommates’ constant kissing and touching, his sister always massaging Rath-Michael, who claimed the training left him sore, which was partly true, because his father’s beatings at his impudence always happened at training hours. Zan had threatened them to accuse them, and Rath-Michael was almost on him, as he backed off, repenting his bad idea, when Vilandra had got between them, not to protect her brother, but to make sure he would keep his mouth shut or she wouldn’t, about his jacking off at night when he saw them together. Zan almost threw a fit and left the room, red as a beet. When Vilandra turned 13 the next year, she went through the traditional female ceremony, where she came in contact with her feminine instincts, and of course, her hormones kicked in. She was entitled to choose a boyfriend to become sexually active, but she had made her mind to wait for Rath-Michael, even if it took two years. She honestly suspected it would be much sooner as the boy was quite precocious, especially because of his sharing her bed, all these years, and their constant physical contact, which was encouraged by her parents, who craved the Royal blood. Zan was an idiot if he thought he would get them in trouble if he told on them, cause it would be quite the contrary, making his young cousin, as usual, the better man. Rath-Michael wanting to please Vilandra and hating to have her wait two years, went to the healers and submitted himself to painful hormone injections to bring on his sexuality faster for Vilandra’s sake. Soon, he realized it was working, so now he needed something the healers couldn’t give him, and that was experience. He couldn’t go to prostitutes because he was too well known, so he turned to his only possible friend under the circumstances, Geehan. One night, after supper, he excused himself to do some research on some battle techniques at the castle’s computer room, and ordered not to be disturbed. Zan was intrigued, and was allowed to go to his room to study, too, but instead, he followed him. Vilandra found it all weird, but turned to her own girly talk with her few friends at the citadel.
Zan sat between two bales of fodder, in a space where only he could fit, and had a great view of the black man’s sleeping quarters, at the back of the barn. A couple of nights ago, Rath-Michael had really been at the computer, but his research had nothing to do with war, on the contrary, it had to do with sex. Curiously enough, there was a paragraph that stated that black men had the ability of satisfying any woman as no other man could. Zan had easily accessed the information his cousin had previously been after, and he suspected what he was up to with Geehan. But what he witnessed was more than he was counting on. Rath-Michael did not ask Geehan to tell him about his abilities, he actually convinced the black man to do it to him, so he could learn how to do it to her, as no one else would. Zan’s bulging eyes saw his young cousin go through the obviously painful ordeal every night for about a week, the first day could be considered in the torture division, though he kept urging him on, the second day, excruciatingly painful, but still he kept asking him not to stop, the third, in spite of the suffering, the boy had an orgasm, and the next days, he just craved for it, like a drug. The seventh day, Zan had to make his move, as he knew that Rath-Michael was ready to show his sister, that very night, the man he had become. Zan chose the time to somehow gain Rath-Michael’s friendship, following his father’s advice, because after all, they were fighting on the same side, so to speak. Vilandra and their mother had gone to visit a family who had just had a new addition, and it was the queen’s duty to take them clothing for the new baby, and food for the rest of the family to last them the period of time she would need until the child could do without her constant presence. So Zan saw it was the perfect time for the bonding, and took him on one of his pleasure trips to the citadel’s brothel. Of course they couldn’t walk in through the front door, as well known as they were, and Zan would shield himself behind that excuse. The truth was he was scared to death of women, totally insecure, fearing rejection. So he would hide behind the brothel’s back yard, among the bins of dirty laundry, mostly soiled sheets, that turned him on, and use his powers to create peep holes in the walls to watch the action. He had parted the strands of barbed wire that protected the entrance to that area, practicing his powers, so they could just walk through. He thought Rath-Michael would enjoy it as much as him, but he was wrong. The boy had been doing it with the black man for the last 6 days and he didn’t need to see it if he could get it, He had expected the boy to be so turned on, that he would have no problems convincing him that he could do to him what Geehan did, black mailing him into consenting, to keep his mouth shut about it. Mainly, making him his, before his sister, just to spite them. When Rath-Michael showed no interest and turned to leave, Zan, not wanting to miss his fun, followed him to disclose his secret and make him stay to have his way with him, but he clumsily tripped over a metal container, and though it wasn’t enough to fall down, he made enough noise to bring someone shouting to the back door. Zan, terrified to be discovered, pushed Rath-Michael towards the fence, parting it again and in his fear, his powers chose to fail as the younger boy was almost through, one of the barbs sticking into the back of his thigh and ripping a nasty gash all the way up. Rath-Michael cursed at the sudden pain and Zan, not being able to see what had happened, pulled his cousin roughly towards him in his haste to get away. He noticed the boy was wincing and limping, but he scurried like a rabbit with Rath-Michael at his heels in spite of his injury. Once out of the citadel, and on the road to the castle, Zan heard Rath-Michael moan, and turned to see him collapse flat on his face. He saw, to his horror, the blood soaking his pants, and tried to heal him, but it didn’t work. He attributed it to his nervousness, so he yelled for help, and the guard at the tower rang the alarm. Geeham came thundering on a cart pulled by two horses and they lay the wounded boy on it, taking him directly to the healers. When Zan told them he hadn’t been able to heal him, they smiled knowingly, and explained that this was usual when puberty set in, and they had been expecting it any minute since Zan had turned 13 over a year ago, but they had been surprised it hadn’t happened yet. They went as far as having Zan admit his virginity, attributing it to his underdeveloped sexuality, making him feel so insulted . From now on, the healer had to make a physical contact with his Royal patient, which would be determined by Zan, being the healer, to enable the healing to be performed. Zan, who was very offended by the situation, demanded to be left alone with Rath-Michael, so he could concentrate without distractions, and find the correct connection. They complied, and Zan, of course, knew exactly where he wanted to join the boy’s body, since he didn’t have the guts of having a woman. He told the helpless boy it was for his own good, and without losing another second, he adjusted his young cousin’s body to meet his needs, and connected with him. The healers and the king, outside the door, heard the gasp, the grunts and the moans, and wondered what was going on, but didn’t dare interrupt. When the door opened, they were shocked by Zan’s look of satisfaction, the outer side of his pants, stained with Rath-Michael’s blood. They turned to the patient, and the gash was now healed, though the tissues were still sore, since the healer wasn’t of Royal blood too and lacked what could take away the pain. They also noticed the telltale drops of semen and blood that were pooling under the fork of the prone boy’s thighs. The healers were outraged, because once the original connection was established, it could never change, and Zan knew it. The healers had to keep it to themselves, not to offend the king, by calling attention to the fact that what his son had done, placed him under the category of a sexual pervert. They shook their heads, trying to hide their disgust, and reluctantly congratulated the king’s son on his graduation feat. With the priority of healing Rath-Michael’s wound, no one had thought of asking how it had happened, and everytime it was suggested, Zan had quickly swerved the conversation in another direction. After a few unsuccessful attempts, and knowing the younger boy’s knack at getting hurt, the healers had concentrated on the actual situation, and an appropriate solution to it. So Zan had managed to prevent the events of Rath-Michael’s accident to come out, and he would keep it that way, trading his cousin’s silence with his knowledge of his sexual trysts with a servant of his same gender. He couldn’t wait to gloat over Vilandra’s reaction to the fact that he had beat her to him, as far as sex was concerned. She could still have his other virginity, but just because he didn’t care about it. Vilandra and her mother heard the news from the first person they met in the streets after they left the house they were visiting. News travelled fast in the citadel, specially concerning the castle’s inhabitants. They rushed home to find Rath-Michael lying on his bed wracked with pain, and Zan sitting beside him with his hand on his hurt thigh, and a silly knowing grin on his face. Vilandra could immediately tell something was not right. She gave her mother the reasonable time to fuss over her much loved nephew, congratulate her smug son on his deed, and then she asked her to be left alone with them. Once alone, Vilandra had only to lock her eyes with her brother, and all his bravado went down the drain. His fear of women, suddenly included his sister, who happened to be one, and all his plans fell completely through in his terror of what she would do, picturing her telling everything to his parents, because although he was sure his father would be on his side, he would have his mother, his sister and cousin, and of course, his powerful uncle, looking down at him, as they would the worst kind of filth. He fell on his knees before her, weeping and wailing in a sickening show of cowardice that Vilandra was totally repelled while he spilled everything to the last gross detail, just hoping she would find what Rath-Michael had done with Geehan so repulsive, that she wouldn’t bear to even look at him, kicking him out of her room and making him feel as rejected as he himself did. Of course, when it came to his cousin, it all backfired on him, and she kicked him out of the room to dote of the younger boy, on his courage of getting so hurt just to be able to please her, and of his horrid experience with her sick brother, which he would have to endure for the rest of his life, because only he could have the guts to take it from that deranged idiot. Zan ran to his room in a fit of fury, his sister’s poisonous words ringing in his ears. Later on, he had to admit the part about his cousin’s guts, because in spite of the condition he was left in, Rath-Michael’s efforts paid, as Zan could hear through the wall, the pleasure his sister was getting, making it clear to her lover that it had all been worth it. Antares girls have no hymen, so Vilandra had the time of her life, from the first time on. Zan found it strange that his cousin still went to the black man at least once or twice a week. But Zan kept the secret to himself, sure that it would sometime come handy under more favourable circumstances, and certainly where his sister was not concerned. Soon, everybody knew what was going on between those two, and Rath-Michael had to confess to the hormone treatment to justify his prowess, what a sacrifice! they thought, and Zan chuckled to himself that it had been just a part of what the boy had suffered for Vilandra. He knew, beyond doubt, that she couldn’t take the image of her young lover, getting it from the black man, from her head, and the way she was extra courteous and friendly towards him, from then on, got him thinking she was thankful of the results. And he felt so powerful with that knowledge, to manipulate now, both his young cousin and his dreaded sister, under the threat of disclosure.
So, for the next 7 years, Rath-Michael accepted being dragged out of bed by Vilandra, as Zan rushed out of the room to his classes, and the black stable lad heaved the sleepy boy over his shoulder, sat him on his mare, hand him a huge glass of concentrated fruit juice containing every natural nutrient possible, and let the mare take him to the barracks, as he lay asleep on her neck. But the second he arrived, his father’s voice made him bolt upright, and he gave all he could. After the training, father and son went home, and after lunch, Rath-Michael and Vilandra rode now openly to the lakes where he would sleep most of the afternoon, with his face on her lap. This didn’t mean the beatings stopped, Rath-Michael was always pulling stunts that made his father lose his patience. When he was 9, he rode half asleep as usual towards the barracks, but soon after, he turned around and knowing the black man had gone to mix the horses’ food, he slid off the mare, took a halter and got it on his father’s most treasured and spirited stallion, whom he had befriended with the treats he liked most, and with the help of the bales of dried fodder, he leapt on the animal’s back and raced out of the pen jumping over the fence. His mare followed hot on his tracks, as the black man looked on sadly, sure of his master’s fury. Ramthis was livid, when he saw him arrive, riding bareback, and everyone cheering at the way he managed the fiery horse, even better than his father. Ramthis gave his reckless son a severe beating, made him mount again and called it a day. Then, mounting his own horse, he took the halter’s rope from the barely conscious boy’s hand, and returned home, with the mare in tow. He yelled for the stable lad, who wasn’t expecting them so soon, and his angry voice brought most of the household out in alarm. Ramthis ordered the black man down on his knees, and had two servants open his shirt. Then he had a wicked looking whip brought to him from the abandoned torture chamber, and raised it to lash at the guilty man’s exposed chest.
Rath-Michael was off his horse in a second, and before the whip hit his friend, the boy threw himself on the man, wrapping his arms around him and receiving the blow meant for an adult, in all its fury. His back was ripped open from shoulder to hip, and Ramthis dropped the whip in shock. He stood there trembling, watching his son’s blood soak his thin shirt, only Vilandra reacted running to the duo on the floor, hugging Rath-Michael to her, and stanching his blood with the front of her dress. The king, queen and Zan watched open mouthed, and it was the ex-advisor teacher the only one who reacted and went to drag his grand-daughter away from the hurt boy and heave him over his shoulder, rushing to the house. He yelled at anyone to get the healers, snapping them to action, with Vilandra running full speed beside him. Zan, of course, took part in the healing, as he always did, his powers progressing by bounds, specially because he was able to practice quite often, thanks to his cousin’s amazing frequency in getting hurt, and the fact that their fathers had already decided he would be Rath-Michael’s own healer. Vilandra had always wished she had the power, but unfortunately, she hadn’t, and Zan did. The black man was spared, and his love for the boy was as big as his gratitude. Once Rath-Michael was healed, he made his father promise that he wouldn’t punish Geehan, because it wasn’t his fault. Rath-Michael admitted he had fooled him and he deserved what had happened. The boy spent another week, until he was back on his feet, enjoying Vilandra’s care whose love and admiration for his cousin had no limits. When Zan turned 13, he demanded his own room, which he was granted immediately, just next door, but only his. He was sick of his roommates’ constant kissing and touching, his sister always massaging Rath-Michael, who claimed the training left him sore, which was partly true, because his father’s beatings at his impudence always happened at training hours. Zan had threatened them to accuse them, and Rath-Michael was almost on him, as he backed off, repenting his bad idea, when Vilandra had got between them, not to protect her brother, but to make sure he would keep his mouth shut or she wouldn’t, about his jacking off at night when he saw them together. Zan almost threw a fit and left the room, red as a beet. When Vilandra turned 13 the next year, she went through the traditional female ceremony, where she came in contact with her feminine instincts, and of course, her hormones kicked in. She was entitled to choose a boyfriend to become sexually active, but she had made her mind to wait for Rath-Michael, even if it took two years. She honestly suspected it would be much sooner as the boy was quite precocious, especially because of his sharing her bed, all these years, and their constant physical contact, which was encouraged by her parents, who craved the Royal blood. Zan was an idiot if he thought he would get them in trouble if he told on them, cause it would be quite the contrary, making his young cousin, as usual, the better man. Rath-Michael wanting to please Vilandra and hating to have her wait two years, went to the healers and submitted himself to painful hormone injections to bring on his sexuality faster for Vilandra’s sake. Soon, he realized it was working, so now he needed something the healers couldn’t give him, and that was experience. He couldn’t go to prostitutes because he was too well known, so he turned to his only possible friend under the circumstances, Geehan. One night, after supper, he excused himself to do some research on some battle techniques at the castle’s computer room, and ordered not to be disturbed. Zan was intrigued, and was allowed to go to his room to study, too, but instead, he followed him. Vilandra found it all weird, but turned to her own girly talk with her few friends at the citadel.
Zan sat between two bales of fodder, in a space where only he could fit, and had a great view of the black man’s sleeping quarters, at the back of the barn. A couple of nights ago, Rath-Michael had really been at the computer, but his research had nothing to do with war, on the contrary, it had to do with sex. Curiously enough, there was a paragraph that stated that black men had the ability of satisfying any woman as no other man could. Zan had easily accessed the information his cousin had previously been after, and he suspected what he was up to with Geehan. But what he witnessed was more than he was counting on. Rath-Michael did not ask Geehan to tell him about his abilities, he actually convinced the black man to do it to him, so he could learn how to do it to her, as no one else would. Zan’s bulging eyes saw his young cousin go through the obviously painful ordeal every night for about a week, the first day could be considered in the torture division, though he kept urging him on, the second day, excruciatingly painful, but still he kept asking him not to stop, the third, in spite of the suffering, the boy had an orgasm, and the next days, he just craved for it, like a drug. The seventh day, Zan had to make his move, as he knew that Rath-Michael was ready to show his sister, that very night, the man he had become. Zan chose the time to somehow gain Rath-Michael’s friendship, following his father’s advice, because after all, they were fighting on the same side, so to speak. Vilandra and their mother had gone to visit a family who had just had a new addition, and it was the queen’s duty to take them clothing for the new baby, and food for the rest of the family to last them the period of time she would need until the child could do without her constant presence. So Zan saw it was the perfect time for the bonding, and took him on one of his pleasure trips to the citadel’s brothel. Of course they couldn’t walk in through the front door, as well known as they were, and Zan would shield himself behind that excuse. The truth was he was scared to death of women, totally insecure, fearing rejection. So he would hide behind the brothel’s back yard, among the bins of dirty laundry, mostly soiled sheets, that turned him on, and use his powers to create peep holes in the walls to watch the action. He had parted the strands of barbed wire that protected the entrance to that area, practicing his powers, so they could just walk through. He thought Rath-Michael would enjoy it as much as him, but he was wrong. The boy had been doing it with the black man for the last 6 days and he didn’t need to see it if he could get it, He had expected the boy to be so turned on, that he would have no problems convincing him that he could do to him what Geehan did, black mailing him into consenting, to keep his mouth shut about it. Mainly, making him his, before his sister, just to spite them. When Rath-Michael showed no interest and turned to leave, Zan, not wanting to miss his fun, followed him to disclose his secret and make him stay to have his way with him, but he clumsily tripped over a metal container, and though it wasn’t enough to fall down, he made enough noise to bring someone shouting to the back door. Zan, terrified to be discovered, pushed Rath-Michael towards the fence, parting it again and in his fear, his powers chose to fail as the younger boy was almost through, one of the barbs sticking into the back of his thigh and ripping a nasty gash all the way up. Rath-Michael cursed at the sudden pain and Zan, not being able to see what had happened, pulled his cousin roughly towards him in his haste to get away. He noticed the boy was wincing and limping, but he scurried like a rabbit with Rath-Michael at his heels in spite of his injury. Once out of the citadel, and on the road to the castle, Zan heard Rath-Michael moan, and turned to see him collapse flat on his face. He saw, to his horror, the blood soaking his pants, and tried to heal him, but it didn’t work. He attributed it to his nervousness, so he yelled for help, and the guard at the tower rang the alarm. Geeham came thundering on a cart pulled by two horses and they lay the wounded boy on it, taking him directly to the healers. When Zan told them he hadn’t been able to heal him, they smiled knowingly, and explained that this was usual when puberty set in, and they had been expecting it any minute since Zan had turned 13 over a year ago, but they had been surprised it hadn’t happened yet. They went as far as having Zan admit his virginity, attributing it to his underdeveloped sexuality, making him feel so insulted . From now on, the healer had to make a physical contact with his Royal patient, which would be determined by Zan, being the healer, to enable the healing to be performed. Zan, who was very offended by the situation, demanded to be left alone with Rath-Michael, so he could concentrate without distractions, and find the correct connection. They complied, and Zan, of course, knew exactly where he wanted to join the boy’s body, since he didn’t have the guts of having a woman. He told the helpless boy it was for his own good, and without losing another second, he adjusted his young cousin’s body to meet his needs, and connected with him. The healers and the king, outside the door, heard the gasp, the grunts and the moans, and wondered what was going on, but didn’t dare interrupt. When the door opened, they were shocked by Zan’s look of satisfaction, the outer side of his pants, stained with Rath-Michael’s blood. They turned to the patient, and the gash was now healed, though the tissues were still sore, since the healer wasn’t of Royal blood too and lacked what could take away the pain. They also noticed the telltale drops of semen and blood that were pooling under the fork of the prone boy’s thighs. The healers were outraged, because once the original connection was established, it could never change, and Zan knew it. The healers had to keep it to themselves, not to offend the king, by calling attention to the fact that what his son had done, placed him under the category of a sexual pervert. They shook their heads, trying to hide their disgust, and reluctantly congratulated the king’s son on his graduation feat. With the priority of healing Rath-Michael’s wound, no one had thought of asking how it had happened, and everytime it was suggested, Zan had quickly swerved the conversation in another direction. After a few unsuccessful attempts, and knowing the younger boy’s knack at getting hurt, the healers had concentrated on the actual situation, and an appropriate solution to it. So Zan had managed to prevent the events of Rath-Michael’s accident to come out, and he would keep it that way, trading his cousin’s silence with his knowledge of his sexual trysts with a servant of his same gender. He couldn’t wait to gloat over Vilandra’s reaction to the fact that he had beat her to him, as far as sex was concerned. She could still have his other virginity, but just because he didn’t care about it. Vilandra and her mother heard the news from the first person they met in the streets after they left the house they were visiting. News travelled fast in the citadel, specially concerning the castle’s inhabitants. They rushed home to find Rath-Michael lying on his bed wracked with pain, and Zan sitting beside him with his hand on his hurt thigh, and a silly knowing grin on his face. Vilandra could immediately tell something was not right. She gave her mother the reasonable time to fuss over her much loved nephew, congratulate her smug son on his deed, and then she asked her to be left alone with them. Once alone, Vilandra had only to lock her eyes with her brother, and all his bravado went down the drain. His fear of women, suddenly included his sister, who happened to be one, and all his plans fell completely through in his terror of what she would do, picturing her telling everything to his parents, because although he was sure his father would be on his side, he would have his mother, his sister and cousin, and of course, his powerful uncle, looking down at him, as they would the worst kind of filth. He fell on his knees before her, weeping and wailing in a sickening show of cowardice that Vilandra was totally repelled while he spilled everything to the last gross detail, just hoping she would find what Rath-Michael had done with Geehan so repulsive, that she wouldn’t bear to even look at him, kicking him out of her room and making him feel as rejected as he himself did. Of course, when it came to his cousin, it all backfired on him, and she kicked him out of the room to dote of the younger boy, on his courage of getting so hurt just to be able to please her, and of his horrid experience with her sick brother, which he would have to endure for the rest of his life, because only he could have the guts to take it from that deranged idiot. Zan ran to his room in a fit of fury, his sister’s poisonous words ringing in his ears. Later on, he had to admit the part about his cousin’s guts, because in spite of the condition he was left in, Rath-Michael’s efforts paid, as Zan could hear through the wall, the pleasure his sister was getting, making it clear to her lover that it had all been worth it. Antares girls have no hymen, so Vilandra had the time of her life, from the first time on. Zan found it strange that his cousin still went to the black man at least once or twice a week. But Zan kept the secret to himself, sure that it would sometime come handy under more favourable circumstances, and certainly where his sister was not concerned. Soon, everybody knew what was going on between those two, and Rath-Michael had to confess to the hormone treatment to justify his prowess, what a sacrifice! they thought, and Zan chuckled to himself that it had been just a part of what the boy had suffered for Vilandra. He knew, beyond doubt, that she couldn’t take the image of her young lover, getting it from the black man, from her head, and the way she was extra courteous and friendly towards him, from then on, got him thinking she was thankful of the results. And he felt so powerful with that knowledge, to manipulate now, both his young cousin and his dreaded sister, under the threat of disclosure.
ALIENS FULL TILT!
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ñusta
- Obsessed Roswellian
- Posts: 510
- Joined: Thu Nov 11, 2004 10:52 pm
- Location: heights of Machu Picchu
the martyr of antar
Chapter 65
Then, at the next council meeting, when Rath-Michael turned 14, the boy’s decision couldn’t be ignored, specially with his father backing up the fact that his son, in spite of his young age, had already surpassed him in all his war knowledge, and was ready to show his mettle in the next real battle, where they would fight side by side under the protection of his shield. But the boy had another card up his sleeve, and he begged to be spared from that gift that didn’t belong to him, and asked for his own armour, to wear on his first performance as a real soldier. The council smiled on the boy’s defiance, and told him that, though the Granalith could not give him the invulnerability it extended to horses, it would give him an armour that would protect him the most possible, to assure Antar’s triumph. They would have to accept, at least for the next generation, another substitute king, in the knowledge that the present one was training his son as the best advisor possible, and he trusted he could meet the requirements. Ramthis was proud of his son, but the king couldn’t be happier to see he had got his wish. Now he just hoped his stupid son wouldn’t screw it all up. That night, after informing Vilandra what had been discussed at the council, the action in bed was wild. Rath-Michael felt Zan’s jealous eyes watching them as he was sure they would every night, and he couldn’t give a damn. Of course, he didn’t mention it to Vilandra, who apparently was so into the sex, that she wasn’t aware of it, because she would probably halt the action to go next door and shove her sick brother’s eyeballs down his throat. So he just gloated to think Zan’s jealousy was eating him up, as he chose every chance he had to moon the wall through which the future king was watching them, making him drool with the sight of what he wasn’t getting tonight. Of course, he knew that the next time he would need Zan’s healing powers, which wouldn’t be too long, the battle coming soon, his healer would connect with him as viciously as he had this first time, making him bleed, and leaving him so sore, in spite of giving him a very strong orgasm, as the ones Geeham had given him, but without the stinging seed of the black man, which burned his insides, unlike Zan’s. His first orgasm with Vilandra was amazing, satisfying him but lacking the deep stimulation he had been having with male companions. Thanks to that, and unlike a totally virgin boy’s first time, he had been able to last longer, making her come twice before he finally joined her. She had really lost it, raking her nails on his back and butt, leaving bloody scratches which he wanted to keep as long as possible, as a reminder of her. Next day Zan waited for Vilandra to leave the bathroom where she had been showering with Rath-Michael to wake him up completely, before he left for the training. She was going to get him his breakfast boost, as he finished dressing, and Zan entered the room to find him bent over as he pulled his pants up in his personal style, and almost jumped him. He was glad he hadn’t, because he knew the younger boy could shred him to pieces if he chose to. Zan cleared his throat, to make his presence known, and Rath-Michael straightened up hiking his pants over his hips. Zan offered to heal his scratches, some being rather deep, but Rath-Michael knew he didn’t care about the scratches, but just wanted to connect with him using the scratches as an excuse to satisfy himself. He was about to comply, making sure the scratches would stay, because he understood how it felt to want sex, and unbelievably, felt sorry for Zan, when Vilandra stormed into the room and screamed Zan out of it, slamming the door on his face. Zan left for the classroom, cursing his bitchy sister, knowing he would have a lousy day, with the disturbing image he had of Rath-Michael, as he had entered the bathroom. This, of course had him also cursing his cousin, specifically his tempting ass, as his concentration was completely blown. His father, in his unlimited patience, was losing it today as his son gave a wrong answer for the 5th time. Answering his question, Zan blamed it on a splitting headache, to which the king winked at his son, and told him the coming battle would assure him plenty of healing in store to keep his craving satisfied, as Zan and his father shared a secret smile, making the future king sigh in relief that his father approved even his darkest thoughts. Vilandra had taken a sudden interest in everything earthly, knowing it was from where the black man’s ancestors came, and turned her interest to the other original earthlings: the Andes people. She visited them every morning, when Rath-Michael was busy training, “to get yourself killed!” she would scream furiously at him, when he rarely managed to upset her, but he just had to kiss her to get her lost in his arms. She enjoyed their beautiful village, having chosen the only range of mountains in the planet, just beside the citadel. She marveled at the wide step-like stages they had carved on the mountain sides, where they sowed their seeds and provided all of Antar with their nutritious crops. Her eyes watered with the sad but enticing music of their flutes, the single “quena”, which they pronounced “keh-nah”, and the one with several pipes tied together, ranging from long to short, which was called “antara”. She was flattered by the name, which she took as a compliment to her planet, but they told her that it was the earth name for it, they couldn’t explain its origin. So she was flattered anyway. She discovered they had built tunnels, trusting her in their secret, that joined their mountains to the castle and the citadel, in case of siege, in these difficult times. She admired their cunning, and was also shown underground springs that they had strategically guided so that water would also be available, if it was needed. Their discreet presence in the neighbourhood gave her a sense of security along with the knowledge that her future husband would protect her with his life.
Then, at the next council meeting, when Rath-Michael turned 14, the boy’s decision couldn’t be ignored, specially with his father backing up the fact that his son, in spite of his young age, had already surpassed him in all his war knowledge, and was ready to show his mettle in the next real battle, where they would fight side by side under the protection of his shield. But the boy had another card up his sleeve, and he begged to be spared from that gift that didn’t belong to him, and asked for his own armour, to wear on his first performance as a real soldier. The council smiled on the boy’s defiance, and told him that, though the Granalith could not give him the invulnerability it extended to horses, it would give him an armour that would protect him the most possible, to assure Antar’s triumph. They would have to accept, at least for the next generation, another substitute king, in the knowledge that the present one was training his son as the best advisor possible, and he trusted he could meet the requirements. Ramthis was proud of his son, but the king couldn’t be happier to see he had got his wish. Now he just hoped his stupid son wouldn’t screw it all up. That night, after informing Vilandra what had been discussed at the council, the action in bed was wild. Rath-Michael felt Zan’s jealous eyes watching them as he was sure they would every night, and he couldn’t give a damn. Of course, he didn’t mention it to Vilandra, who apparently was so into the sex, that she wasn’t aware of it, because she would probably halt the action to go next door and shove her sick brother’s eyeballs down his throat. So he just gloated to think Zan’s jealousy was eating him up, as he chose every chance he had to moon the wall through which the future king was watching them, making him drool with the sight of what he wasn’t getting tonight. Of course, he knew that the next time he would need Zan’s healing powers, which wouldn’t be too long, the battle coming soon, his healer would connect with him as viciously as he had this first time, making him bleed, and leaving him so sore, in spite of giving him a very strong orgasm, as the ones Geeham had given him, but without the stinging seed of the black man, which burned his insides, unlike Zan’s. His first orgasm with Vilandra was amazing, satisfying him but lacking the deep stimulation he had been having with male companions. Thanks to that, and unlike a totally virgin boy’s first time, he had been able to last longer, making her come twice before he finally joined her. She had really lost it, raking her nails on his back and butt, leaving bloody scratches which he wanted to keep as long as possible, as a reminder of her. Next day Zan waited for Vilandra to leave the bathroom where she had been showering with Rath-Michael to wake him up completely, before he left for the training. She was going to get him his breakfast boost, as he finished dressing, and Zan entered the room to find him bent over as he pulled his pants up in his personal style, and almost jumped him. He was glad he hadn’t, because he knew the younger boy could shred him to pieces if he chose to. Zan cleared his throat, to make his presence known, and Rath-Michael straightened up hiking his pants over his hips. Zan offered to heal his scratches, some being rather deep, but Rath-Michael knew he didn’t care about the scratches, but just wanted to connect with him using the scratches as an excuse to satisfy himself. He was about to comply, making sure the scratches would stay, because he understood how it felt to want sex, and unbelievably, felt sorry for Zan, when Vilandra stormed into the room and screamed Zan out of it, slamming the door on his face. Zan left for the classroom, cursing his bitchy sister, knowing he would have a lousy day, with the disturbing image he had of Rath-Michael, as he had entered the bathroom. This, of course had him also cursing his cousin, specifically his tempting ass, as his concentration was completely blown. His father, in his unlimited patience, was losing it today as his son gave a wrong answer for the 5th time. Answering his question, Zan blamed it on a splitting headache, to which the king winked at his son, and told him the coming battle would assure him plenty of healing in store to keep his craving satisfied, as Zan and his father shared a secret smile, making the future king sigh in relief that his father approved even his darkest thoughts. Vilandra had taken a sudden interest in everything earthly, knowing it was from where the black man’s ancestors came, and turned her interest to the other original earthlings: the Andes people. She visited them every morning, when Rath-Michael was busy training, “to get yourself killed!” she would scream furiously at him, when he rarely managed to upset her, but he just had to kiss her to get her lost in his arms. She enjoyed their beautiful village, having chosen the only range of mountains in the planet, just beside the citadel. She marveled at the wide step-like stages they had carved on the mountain sides, where they sowed their seeds and provided all of Antar with their nutritious crops. Her eyes watered with the sad but enticing music of their flutes, the single “quena”, which they pronounced “keh-nah”, and the one with several pipes tied together, ranging from long to short, which was called “antara”. She was flattered by the name, which she took as a compliment to her planet, but they told her that it was the earth name for it, they couldn’t explain its origin. So she was flattered anyway. She discovered they had built tunnels, trusting her in their secret, that joined their mountains to the castle and the citadel, in case of siege, in these difficult times. She admired their cunning, and was also shown underground springs that they had strategically guided so that water would also be available, if it was needed. Their discreet presence in the neighbourhood gave her a sense of security along with the knowledge that her future husband would protect her with his life.
ALIENS FULL TILT!
-
ñusta
- Obsessed Roswellian
- Posts: 510
- Joined: Thu Nov 11, 2004 10:52 pm
- Location: heights of Machu Picchu
the martyr of antar
Chapter 66
Vilandra followed Rath-Michael and his father to the courtyard, then he turned and took her in his arms kissing her as no one else could. When he let go, she looked at him and couldn’t believe he was just 14, he normally could pass for 17, and even 18, especially in bed, but standing in front of her in full armour, he looked every inch a soldier. She watched them mount and then took a step back to stand between her father and her brother. Rath-Michael kissed the air in front of him locking eyes with her and she returned the gesture, it would be their trademark welcome and farewell until his last battle. Geehan handed him his helmet, with the blue crest, and they rode out of the gate, the huge army falling behind them. Just before they were lost from her sight, she watched him don his helmet, probably obeying his father. The following 3 days, were unending for her, as she spent them with the Andes and Geehan, and with another special companion: the little mare that Rath-Michael used to ride, and who now just followed him and his battle stallion to the barracks and back, and also to the lakes. He told Vilandra she was hers, but she didn’t dare ride her alone. Anyway, she enjoyed clinging to Rath-Michael’s strong back as she rode behind him. She was returning from the stables, for lunch, when the messenger arrived with the news that the enemy had been totally vanquished, and the triumphant army was arriving around sundown, as the fighting had not been too far away. Answering Vilandra’s question, he told her Rath-Michael had guided them to victory, exceeding expectations. He had suffered a couple of unimportant flesh wounds, but that was usual in the leader, and a good experience for next time. The king nodded and locked eyes with his son, and Zan smiled on the inside, and nodded back to his father, looking as serious and pleased as he did. Vilandra hugged her mother, who seemed to be the only other one who was worried about the boy’s safety, and spent the afternoon waiting with her. About half an hour before sundown, the army appeared, approaching the gates. Vilandra and her mother were in her room, which had a great view of the gate, and stood at the wall sized window, as both leading warriors rode into the castle’s yard. Rath-Michael looked all right, he pulled off his helmet, shaking his hair free, and tossed it to Geehan. He gave Vilandra his distant kiss followed by his smug smirk, then he swung his leg over his horse and as he landed, he held his arms over his mount’s back, holding himself up. She noticed he was wincing, and Geehan rushed to him, wrapping his arms around him. Then he gently turned him to face him, and saying respectfully, “My Lord”, he heaved him over his shoulder and followed Ramthis’ lead towards the healing room on the main floor, against the walls. Vilandra gave a small sob, and ran to the corridor just outside her room. Using her still young powers, she raced to the back door of the healing room which opened into the castle. She waited until the black man lay her love carefully on the table, face down, and then in two strides she was beside him. The healers stood around, as back up, when Zan approached his patient. The eldest healer waved his hand, and Rath-Michael’s armour vanished, but Zan, instead of accepting the men’s experienced presence and help, he rudely ordered them away. They turned to look at the king, and he nodded. Then they left. That somewhat reassured Vilandra, because if the wounds had been life threatening, the healers wouldn’t have left, no matter what. She stepped closer to Rath-Michael and noticed he had a tight bloody bandage on the inside of his thigh, and when Zan waved his hand and made it disappear, a rather deep gash was left, which now bled freely. She wondered how he could have ridden at all with the pain it must have been causing him, but then she remembered how stubborn the boy could be, and yes, that would have made it possible. She couldn’t understand how he could have sustained a wound in such an unlikely place, and Ramthis, with his uncanny intuition, answered her silent question. He said it was a bouncing arrow, and it had actually stuck into him. He watched from the protection of his shield how his son had given a start, and heard him tell the guard beside him to pull it out. The man hesitated and Rath-Michael shouted his order, making him obey under the cover of both his and the boy’s shield. Ramthis said his son bit down his lower lip hard enough to make it bleed, and that was how he knew the barb was out of him. He forced his shield around him just long enough to have the soldier fasten what could pass for a bandage tight around the gash to stop the bleeding the most possible, and then the boy struggled out of his father’s protection to keep on fighting. Ramthis admired his son’s flawless technique, which he had passed onto him, as his father before him. A quick duck, with a slash to the ankle, severing the foot completely and the edge of the sword turned upwards to receive the falling man’s unprotected throat, the head joining the foot on the ground. The only one who could give true testimony of how it had come to pass, was dead, and the secret was safe. In the heat of the battle, no one had even a fraction of a second to spare a glance at his partner’s death, so the maneuver was unknown even to their own soldiers, as it was practiced in absolute privacy, between father and son. Vilandra searched for Rath-Michael’s other wound and walked around him, much to Zan’s discomfort, who was standing between his cousin’s spread thighs, trying to concentrate in making the healing connection, and his nosy sister was not making it any easier. She saw an angry red line as she arrived at his opposite hip, wrapping around it and reaching more than halfway into the middle of his buttock. She turned to Ramthis again and he said it was a sword cut, probably not even meant for him. Vilandra angrily asked what his damn armour was for, and Ramthis confirmed that it had absorbed every direct hit, successfully as he was a reliable witness, but he had just sustained rogue accidents, at unusual angles which the armour couldn’t prevent. He hinted the sharing of his shield, but Vilandra just shook her head, knowing Rath-Michael would never consent. The boy’s hiss and the way his muscles were standing out, made Vilandra check out her brother out of the corner of her eye, and saw how he was closing in on Rath-Michael, meaning he had managed to achieve the concentration needed for the healing connection, in spite of her interference, and was carrying it on. She couldn’t help shivering, at the thought of her brother invading her lover’s body, but it was a necessary evil she had to live with. She reached the top of the table and fell on her knees, cradling Rath-Michael’s wincing face against her breast, in the hope of easing his pain the best she could. The fingers of her free hand tangling in his hair, and holding him against her. She closed her eyes and heard him breathing hard, and after the longest minutes of her life, he shuddered, and seemed to sob a few times, ending in a sigh, and he relaxed. A short time later, Rath-Michael moaned and she heard her father clap her brother’s arm and congratulate him on his good work. When she dared look up and saw them smiling at each other and walking away. Geehan helped Rath-Michael up and handed him to her, with a small sad smile. She thanked him, and wrapped her arm around the boy’s waist, as he placed his around her shoulder. She got them in her warp speed to their bedroom, where they lay on the bed, Rath-Michael half over her, his face pillowed in the crook of her neck, and before she knew it, he was fast asleep. Later, Zan’s improvised peep holes would witness their lovemaking, remembering how his had felt some hours before, and kept wondering which one did Rath-Michael really prefer.
The king had been insisting lately about finding him a girl for his betrothal at 18, in about a year’s time. Zan had grown to a decent height, but he was still lanky, and before they could talk about it a second time, his father had found him a perfect girl, the daughter of a very good friend of his. What he didn’t tell his son, was that this had been already arranged when the girl had been born, about a year after Zan. The father was perhaps the only man he could trust and call his friend. They were so alike, in their ambitions, and had once, in a private party just for the two of them, promised each other, that should any of them get a good break, they would find a way to help the other. He got in touch with him to tell him he had married and had just had a son. Of course his friend knew the job he would eventually have, and he himself would also be part of the government of his planet. When the news came that he had had a daughter at about a month before Vilandra, they had decided to have them marry eventually, it would depend on them to make sure it happened. The girl was a pampered brat, and now that the time was ripe, her father started filling her head with the possibility of marrying the future king. Still, he didn’t want to disappoint the girl in case things didn’t work out the way they wanted, so he was vague as to the boy’s exact identity, being aware of the political issues in Antar, and keeping the girl absolutely ignorant of them, thankful that she trusted him and wasn’t interested. So when the girl was brought to Antar, by some freak accident, she saw Rath-Michael first, and was informed by a common person, that he was the true Royal blood heir, so she mistakenly thought he was her fiancée. Her disappointment when she saw him with Vilandra, and she was introduced to Zan as her fiancée, brought on all the problems the couple faced during their short lived marriage. The girl’s ambition to be queen made her accept Zan as a poor substitute of what her heart really wanted, but she knew it was impossible, so she had to conform. Truth is. she never did, mostly because her mind warping powers, were useless with the Royal blood. She could manipulate anyone, but Rath-Michael, that was her curse.
Vilandra followed Rath-Michael and his father to the courtyard, then he turned and took her in his arms kissing her as no one else could. When he let go, she looked at him and couldn’t believe he was just 14, he normally could pass for 17, and even 18, especially in bed, but standing in front of her in full armour, he looked every inch a soldier. She watched them mount and then took a step back to stand between her father and her brother. Rath-Michael kissed the air in front of him locking eyes with her and she returned the gesture, it would be their trademark welcome and farewell until his last battle. Geehan handed him his helmet, with the blue crest, and they rode out of the gate, the huge army falling behind them. Just before they were lost from her sight, she watched him don his helmet, probably obeying his father. The following 3 days, were unending for her, as she spent them with the Andes and Geehan, and with another special companion: the little mare that Rath-Michael used to ride, and who now just followed him and his battle stallion to the barracks and back, and also to the lakes. He told Vilandra she was hers, but she didn’t dare ride her alone. Anyway, she enjoyed clinging to Rath-Michael’s strong back as she rode behind him. She was returning from the stables, for lunch, when the messenger arrived with the news that the enemy had been totally vanquished, and the triumphant army was arriving around sundown, as the fighting had not been too far away. Answering Vilandra’s question, he told her Rath-Michael had guided them to victory, exceeding expectations. He had suffered a couple of unimportant flesh wounds, but that was usual in the leader, and a good experience for next time. The king nodded and locked eyes with his son, and Zan smiled on the inside, and nodded back to his father, looking as serious and pleased as he did. Vilandra hugged her mother, who seemed to be the only other one who was worried about the boy’s safety, and spent the afternoon waiting with her. About half an hour before sundown, the army appeared, approaching the gates. Vilandra and her mother were in her room, which had a great view of the gate, and stood at the wall sized window, as both leading warriors rode into the castle’s yard. Rath-Michael looked all right, he pulled off his helmet, shaking his hair free, and tossed it to Geehan. He gave Vilandra his distant kiss followed by his smug smirk, then he swung his leg over his horse and as he landed, he held his arms over his mount’s back, holding himself up. She noticed he was wincing, and Geehan rushed to him, wrapping his arms around him. Then he gently turned him to face him, and saying respectfully, “My Lord”, he heaved him over his shoulder and followed Ramthis’ lead towards the healing room on the main floor, against the walls. Vilandra gave a small sob, and ran to the corridor just outside her room. Using her still young powers, she raced to the back door of the healing room which opened into the castle. She waited until the black man lay her love carefully on the table, face down, and then in two strides she was beside him. The healers stood around, as back up, when Zan approached his patient. The eldest healer waved his hand, and Rath-Michael’s armour vanished, but Zan, instead of accepting the men’s experienced presence and help, he rudely ordered them away. They turned to look at the king, and he nodded. Then they left. That somewhat reassured Vilandra, because if the wounds had been life threatening, the healers wouldn’t have left, no matter what. She stepped closer to Rath-Michael and noticed he had a tight bloody bandage on the inside of his thigh, and when Zan waved his hand and made it disappear, a rather deep gash was left, which now bled freely. She wondered how he could have ridden at all with the pain it must have been causing him, but then she remembered how stubborn the boy could be, and yes, that would have made it possible. She couldn’t understand how he could have sustained a wound in such an unlikely place, and Ramthis, with his uncanny intuition, answered her silent question. He said it was a bouncing arrow, and it had actually stuck into him. He watched from the protection of his shield how his son had given a start, and heard him tell the guard beside him to pull it out. The man hesitated and Rath-Michael shouted his order, making him obey under the cover of both his and the boy’s shield. Ramthis said his son bit down his lower lip hard enough to make it bleed, and that was how he knew the barb was out of him. He forced his shield around him just long enough to have the soldier fasten what could pass for a bandage tight around the gash to stop the bleeding the most possible, and then the boy struggled out of his father’s protection to keep on fighting. Ramthis admired his son’s flawless technique, which he had passed onto him, as his father before him. A quick duck, with a slash to the ankle, severing the foot completely and the edge of the sword turned upwards to receive the falling man’s unprotected throat, the head joining the foot on the ground. The only one who could give true testimony of how it had come to pass, was dead, and the secret was safe. In the heat of the battle, no one had even a fraction of a second to spare a glance at his partner’s death, so the maneuver was unknown even to their own soldiers, as it was practiced in absolute privacy, between father and son. Vilandra searched for Rath-Michael’s other wound and walked around him, much to Zan’s discomfort, who was standing between his cousin’s spread thighs, trying to concentrate in making the healing connection, and his nosy sister was not making it any easier. She saw an angry red line as she arrived at his opposite hip, wrapping around it and reaching more than halfway into the middle of his buttock. She turned to Ramthis again and he said it was a sword cut, probably not even meant for him. Vilandra angrily asked what his damn armour was for, and Ramthis confirmed that it had absorbed every direct hit, successfully as he was a reliable witness, but he had just sustained rogue accidents, at unusual angles which the armour couldn’t prevent. He hinted the sharing of his shield, but Vilandra just shook her head, knowing Rath-Michael would never consent. The boy’s hiss and the way his muscles were standing out, made Vilandra check out her brother out of the corner of her eye, and saw how he was closing in on Rath-Michael, meaning he had managed to achieve the concentration needed for the healing connection, in spite of her interference, and was carrying it on. She couldn’t help shivering, at the thought of her brother invading her lover’s body, but it was a necessary evil she had to live with. She reached the top of the table and fell on her knees, cradling Rath-Michael’s wincing face against her breast, in the hope of easing his pain the best she could. The fingers of her free hand tangling in his hair, and holding him against her. She closed her eyes and heard him breathing hard, and after the longest minutes of her life, he shuddered, and seemed to sob a few times, ending in a sigh, and he relaxed. A short time later, Rath-Michael moaned and she heard her father clap her brother’s arm and congratulate him on his good work. When she dared look up and saw them smiling at each other and walking away. Geehan helped Rath-Michael up and handed him to her, with a small sad smile. She thanked him, and wrapped her arm around the boy’s waist, as he placed his around her shoulder. She got them in her warp speed to their bedroom, where they lay on the bed, Rath-Michael half over her, his face pillowed in the crook of her neck, and before she knew it, he was fast asleep. Later, Zan’s improvised peep holes would witness their lovemaking, remembering how his had felt some hours before, and kept wondering which one did Rath-Michael really prefer.
The king had been insisting lately about finding him a girl for his betrothal at 18, in about a year’s time. Zan had grown to a decent height, but he was still lanky, and before they could talk about it a second time, his father had found him a perfect girl, the daughter of a very good friend of his. What he didn’t tell his son, was that this had been already arranged when the girl had been born, about a year after Zan. The father was perhaps the only man he could trust and call his friend. They were so alike, in their ambitions, and had once, in a private party just for the two of them, promised each other, that should any of them get a good break, they would find a way to help the other. He got in touch with him to tell him he had married and had just had a son. Of course his friend knew the job he would eventually have, and he himself would also be part of the government of his planet. When the news came that he had had a daughter at about a month before Vilandra, they had decided to have them marry eventually, it would depend on them to make sure it happened. The girl was a pampered brat, and now that the time was ripe, her father started filling her head with the possibility of marrying the future king. Still, he didn’t want to disappoint the girl in case things didn’t work out the way they wanted, so he was vague as to the boy’s exact identity, being aware of the political issues in Antar, and keeping the girl absolutely ignorant of them, thankful that she trusted him and wasn’t interested. So when the girl was brought to Antar, by some freak accident, she saw Rath-Michael first, and was informed by a common person, that he was the true Royal blood heir, so she mistakenly thought he was her fiancée. Her disappointment when she saw him with Vilandra, and she was introduced to Zan as her fiancée, brought on all the problems the couple faced during their short lived marriage. The girl’s ambition to be queen made her accept Zan as a poor substitute of what her heart really wanted, but she knew it was impossible, so she had to conform. Truth is. she never did, mostly because her mind warping powers, were useless with the Royal blood. She could manipulate anyone, but Rath-Michael, that was her curse.
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ñusta
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the martyr of antar
Chapter 67
A big dinner party was planned on the night of Ava’s arrival, and a close group of friends of the family, mostly the queen’s, had been safely brought from the other planets through the Granalith. One of these was Larek. He was the son of the queen’s best friend, and had been a constant visitor in Antar. Several years ago, the queen, concerned by her son’s shyness and serious disposition, had invited her childhood girlfriend’s son, to befriend hers. Larek came from Sero, like the queen herself, and he was also training for the advisory, as his father was the advisor of his planet’s governor. The boy was also serious and responsible, but not shy at all. He bonded with the three Antar children easily, to Zan’s parents’ delight. Of course, he would join Zan in the classroom, while Rath-Michael fled to the barracks. He had no problems keeping up with Antar’s more sophisticated studies, to serve the king, not a governor, because he was two years older, and was also two years ahead. On the second day, the king took his son and Larek to have a chat concerning their studies. Rath-Michael took off to the stables with Vilandra to their afternoon bathe in the lakes. The chat barely took an hour, because after spending the morning in the classroom, and being so young, it was more than enough. Of course, the prospect of spending the afternoon alone with the brooding, boring Zan brat, hadn’t been in Larek’s plans, so he decided to explore the castle. Soon they found themselves in the sub-floor, and found a locked gate. They used their powers together and opened it. They had found the abandoned dungeon. They looked around in awe and Larek saw immediately the possibilities of this great playground. The very next day, after lunch, the older boys captured the attention of the two younger children, as to an awesome find. Once back in the dungeon, Larek took over, being the eldest and the leader of the games. Zan would play the king, because he was the king’s son, Vilandra would be the captive princess, and Rath-Michael would be the prisoner. Then Larek said he wanted to be the executioner, and whisked a whip from behind him. Vilandra was about to protest, but Zan pushed her against the wall with his powers, before she could react, and shackled her wrists above her head. Larek took care of the younger boy, pushing him down, bent over a tree trunk and tied his hands behind his back, his powers as effective as Zan’s. Then he played a game he used, with the younger boys of his neighbourhood, manipulating them to his will. He wondered aloud if the boy could take it, to which Rath-Michael answered he sure could. Then he told Zan that maybe they just better let him go, because he was too young and Rath-Michael insisted he wasn’t. When Larek bared the boy’s butt and raised the whip, Vilandra started to scream to them to let him go, so they silenced her with a wave of their hands. Larek’s first strike made Rath-Michael gasp, but he just took the rest gritting his teeth. It wasn’t that Larek was doing it hard, but he had had his usual spanking from his father that morning for, he didn’t even remember what reason and he was already sore. After the fifth lash, Zan snatched the whip from Larek, announcing he wanted to switch roles with him and gave Rath-Michael 5 more, as hard as his thin arm allowed. When the last one cut the boy and drew blood, Larek stopped Zan’s arm in mid air and took the whip away saying it was enough. The boy was Royal blood, and they could get in trouble for this. He made Zan heal him, covered the boy, and helped him up. Then Rath-Michael faced Larek and told him “It’s our game, and it’s between us, and I let you do it just to prove I’m the better man here.” Larek liked the child’s spunk, and respected him for having the guts to take the lashing and keep quiet about it. He had really proved his point. Rath-Michael untied Vilandra and gave her back her voice. She immediately started yelling at the older boys angrily, calling them bullies, but Rath-Michael calmed her down, and got her back together. She was right, though, because Larek was 11 and Zan 9, Vilandra was 8 and though Rath-Michael was only 6, he was as tall as Vilandra, both slightly taller than Zan, which he totally hated, and Larek, about an inch at the most taller than them. The game was played several times again, Zan and Larek switching roles, and when Larek was gone, they would play it with Zan just to get him off their backs. But now they were almost adults, and the guests had been arriving all day long. Vilandra was busy with her mother, accommodating the guests in their appointed rooms, but she had promised Rath-Michael that she would sneak away to meet him in an hour, so he went to the stables to give the toughest stallion a work out. He took it to the fenced field behind the castle, and as he rode, his keen eyesight noticed a blonde girl looking at him through a window. Then she was gone and he saw her walking towards the field. She stood by the fence, near the outer one, where the citadel’s common people came to watch him, and saw her talking to one of them. He was much too focused in what he was doing to pay any attention to her, and then he left the field to meet Vilandra at the stables, to go swimming in the river just a little to the left, with Zan and Larek. He walked the horse back to cool it down, and met Vilandra, telling her he would rather go to their secluded lake, than to the open river with the two geeks. He mounted the gentle mare and pulled Vilandra behind him, and rode to the river to tell the older boys of the change of plans. As they were talking to them, the blonde girl came walking up the path, and went to the jutting rock, sitting on the edge over the water. Zan looked at her open mouthed, and said she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and that he wanted her. Rath-Michael and Vilandra just laughed and rode away. Zan was very disappointed when he saw the girl watch them ride by, having looked at him just once and then away, and then she got up and left the way she had come. That evening, when she entered the hall, the usher told her to follow him as the king and his family were expecting her. They were in a small hall, in an upper level over the rest of the guests, that could be reached by two flights of stairs 5 steps high on either side. Rath-Michael and the blonde girl of that afternoon, were standing to the left, beside the king, so Ava started climbing that staircase. The usher grabbed her arm and forced her to take the other staircase. She looked confused, and was led very reluctantly by the usher, her eyes on Rath-Michael who was too busy talking with Vilandra. She was taken to the queen, who took her hands in hers and then placed her right hand in the one of the thin lanky guy she had seen at the river that afternoon. She introduced him as her son, the future king of Antar, and Ava’s mouth curved downwards in a frown. She felt completely let down, she kept turning towards Rath-Michael and Zan was very upset. During the whole party, Zan hardly spoke at all, Larek took charge of the conversation, and Ava was bored to death. The king announced that Ava would stay in Antar to get used to her new home, and the betrothal would take place exactly 6 months before Zan turned 18, in about 3 months, so that they would marry on his birthday. Afterwards, Ava was led to her room, right beside the queen’s, where she sat with her face in her hands and cried all night in utter frustration. The queen heard her and assumed she was missing home. The next day, she stood on the courtyard to watch Rath-Michael in full armour, leave with his father to fight for his people. Larek and the rest of the guests were transported back to their planets, right after, and Ava felt very lonely, since Zan hardly stuttered a few words. Her husband-to-be left her on her own to go to his studies, so she turned to Vilandra, being the perfect time to befriend the lucky girl, now that they were both left behind. Soon, they had discovered they were almost the same age, and they had many things in common. Vilandra, missing the boy that she loved, and Ava, having to marry a boy she didn’t love. Vilandra asked her why she had been staring so insistently at Rath-Michael, and Ava, cunningly told her he looked so much like her cousin, who happened to be her best friend, too. Vilandra believed her lie, and then Ava asked Vilandra to tell her about Zan, not to arouse suspicion. Vilandra told her honestly what to expect of her boring brother, then started telling her about Rath-Michael, and Ava was thrilled to hear all about that boy whom she wished could be hers. Then Vilandra told her about her power to dream-walk. Ava had no intentions of revealing her useful mind-warping powers, so she lied, telling her she could sense what people were thinking, but she still wasn’t very good at it. Antares noble women didn’t use classrooms to practice their powers, they just did, and Vilandra dream-walked Rath-Michael every night he was away. He only blocked her out after battles, before their journey back home, when he was hurt, and he didn’t want her to worry until she saw him back still alive for her. That was hell for her because she knew why he did it, and she cried until he got back. All that time, since she arrived in Antar, Ava used her powers to stand by Rath-Michael when he returned from battle, and Zan healed him simply mind-warping everyone into not acknowledging her presence. Then, pretending she was falling for Zan, she would go to his room at night, although she didn’t let him lay a finger on her, to watch together the couple next door in their wild lovemaking, while she mind-warped him into thinking they had soulful conversations. Rath-Michael was used to feel Zan watching them, so he just ignored them, surprised that Vilandra didn’t comment it with him. She didn’t seem to feel it at all, so he had decided that what she didn’t know, wouldn’t upset her. The dreaded betrothal came, and to everyone’s surprise, Ava seemed pleased and smiling. Vilandra thought maybe Ava had finally found something she liked about Zan, but she couldn’t imagine what without being grossed out. The guests for the betrothal ceremony arrived all morning, as did the victorious army and Rath-Michael, with a horrid sword slash that ran down from the small of his back to halfway down the middle of his thigh. After Zan took care of him with the invisible Ava present, Vilandra spent the afternoon relaxing with her boy at the lakes to return to the castle with servants all over making sure everything was as it should be. The best place they could be was, of course, their bedroom, for a second round of their kind of action. Among the guests, to everyone’s unbelieving eyes, was the governor of Hanar’s advisor and his son Khivar.
A big dinner party was planned on the night of Ava’s arrival, and a close group of friends of the family, mostly the queen’s, had been safely brought from the other planets through the Granalith. One of these was Larek. He was the son of the queen’s best friend, and had been a constant visitor in Antar. Several years ago, the queen, concerned by her son’s shyness and serious disposition, had invited her childhood girlfriend’s son, to befriend hers. Larek came from Sero, like the queen herself, and he was also training for the advisory, as his father was the advisor of his planet’s governor. The boy was also serious and responsible, but not shy at all. He bonded with the three Antar children easily, to Zan’s parents’ delight. Of course, he would join Zan in the classroom, while Rath-Michael fled to the barracks. He had no problems keeping up with Antar’s more sophisticated studies, to serve the king, not a governor, because he was two years older, and was also two years ahead. On the second day, the king took his son and Larek to have a chat concerning their studies. Rath-Michael took off to the stables with Vilandra to their afternoon bathe in the lakes. The chat barely took an hour, because after spending the morning in the classroom, and being so young, it was more than enough. Of course, the prospect of spending the afternoon alone with the brooding, boring Zan brat, hadn’t been in Larek’s plans, so he decided to explore the castle. Soon they found themselves in the sub-floor, and found a locked gate. They used their powers together and opened it. They had found the abandoned dungeon. They looked around in awe and Larek saw immediately the possibilities of this great playground. The very next day, after lunch, the older boys captured the attention of the two younger children, as to an awesome find. Once back in the dungeon, Larek took over, being the eldest and the leader of the games. Zan would play the king, because he was the king’s son, Vilandra would be the captive princess, and Rath-Michael would be the prisoner. Then Larek said he wanted to be the executioner, and whisked a whip from behind him. Vilandra was about to protest, but Zan pushed her against the wall with his powers, before she could react, and shackled her wrists above her head. Larek took care of the younger boy, pushing him down, bent over a tree trunk and tied his hands behind his back, his powers as effective as Zan’s. Then he played a game he used, with the younger boys of his neighbourhood, manipulating them to his will. He wondered aloud if the boy could take it, to which Rath-Michael answered he sure could. Then he told Zan that maybe they just better let him go, because he was too young and Rath-Michael insisted he wasn’t. When Larek bared the boy’s butt and raised the whip, Vilandra started to scream to them to let him go, so they silenced her with a wave of their hands. Larek’s first strike made Rath-Michael gasp, but he just took the rest gritting his teeth. It wasn’t that Larek was doing it hard, but he had had his usual spanking from his father that morning for, he didn’t even remember what reason and he was already sore. After the fifth lash, Zan snatched the whip from Larek, announcing he wanted to switch roles with him and gave Rath-Michael 5 more, as hard as his thin arm allowed. When the last one cut the boy and drew blood, Larek stopped Zan’s arm in mid air and took the whip away saying it was enough. The boy was Royal blood, and they could get in trouble for this. He made Zan heal him, covered the boy, and helped him up. Then Rath-Michael faced Larek and told him “It’s our game, and it’s between us, and I let you do it just to prove I’m the better man here.” Larek liked the child’s spunk, and respected him for having the guts to take the lashing and keep quiet about it. He had really proved his point. Rath-Michael untied Vilandra and gave her back her voice. She immediately started yelling at the older boys angrily, calling them bullies, but Rath-Michael calmed her down, and got her back together. She was right, though, because Larek was 11 and Zan 9, Vilandra was 8 and though Rath-Michael was only 6, he was as tall as Vilandra, both slightly taller than Zan, which he totally hated, and Larek, about an inch at the most taller than them. The game was played several times again, Zan and Larek switching roles, and when Larek was gone, they would play it with Zan just to get him off their backs. But now they were almost adults, and the guests had been arriving all day long. Vilandra was busy with her mother, accommodating the guests in their appointed rooms, but she had promised Rath-Michael that she would sneak away to meet him in an hour, so he went to the stables to give the toughest stallion a work out. He took it to the fenced field behind the castle, and as he rode, his keen eyesight noticed a blonde girl looking at him through a window. Then she was gone and he saw her walking towards the field. She stood by the fence, near the outer one, where the citadel’s common people came to watch him, and saw her talking to one of them. He was much too focused in what he was doing to pay any attention to her, and then he left the field to meet Vilandra at the stables, to go swimming in the river just a little to the left, with Zan and Larek. He walked the horse back to cool it down, and met Vilandra, telling her he would rather go to their secluded lake, than to the open river with the two geeks. He mounted the gentle mare and pulled Vilandra behind him, and rode to the river to tell the older boys of the change of plans. As they were talking to them, the blonde girl came walking up the path, and went to the jutting rock, sitting on the edge over the water. Zan looked at her open mouthed, and said she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and that he wanted her. Rath-Michael and Vilandra just laughed and rode away. Zan was very disappointed when he saw the girl watch them ride by, having looked at him just once and then away, and then she got up and left the way she had come. That evening, when she entered the hall, the usher told her to follow him as the king and his family were expecting her. They were in a small hall, in an upper level over the rest of the guests, that could be reached by two flights of stairs 5 steps high on either side. Rath-Michael and the blonde girl of that afternoon, were standing to the left, beside the king, so Ava started climbing that staircase. The usher grabbed her arm and forced her to take the other staircase. She looked confused, and was led very reluctantly by the usher, her eyes on Rath-Michael who was too busy talking with Vilandra. She was taken to the queen, who took her hands in hers and then placed her right hand in the one of the thin lanky guy she had seen at the river that afternoon. She introduced him as her son, the future king of Antar, and Ava’s mouth curved downwards in a frown. She felt completely let down, she kept turning towards Rath-Michael and Zan was very upset. During the whole party, Zan hardly spoke at all, Larek took charge of the conversation, and Ava was bored to death. The king announced that Ava would stay in Antar to get used to her new home, and the betrothal would take place exactly 6 months before Zan turned 18, in about 3 months, so that they would marry on his birthday. Afterwards, Ava was led to her room, right beside the queen’s, where she sat with her face in her hands and cried all night in utter frustration. The queen heard her and assumed she was missing home. The next day, she stood on the courtyard to watch Rath-Michael in full armour, leave with his father to fight for his people. Larek and the rest of the guests were transported back to their planets, right after, and Ava felt very lonely, since Zan hardly stuttered a few words. Her husband-to-be left her on her own to go to his studies, so she turned to Vilandra, being the perfect time to befriend the lucky girl, now that they were both left behind. Soon, they had discovered they were almost the same age, and they had many things in common. Vilandra, missing the boy that she loved, and Ava, having to marry a boy she didn’t love. Vilandra asked her why she had been staring so insistently at Rath-Michael, and Ava, cunningly told her he looked so much like her cousin, who happened to be her best friend, too. Vilandra believed her lie, and then Ava asked Vilandra to tell her about Zan, not to arouse suspicion. Vilandra told her honestly what to expect of her boring brother, then started telling her about Rath-Michael, and Ava was thrilled to hear all about that boy whom she wished could be hers. Then Vilandra told her about her power to dream-walk. Ava had no intentions of revealing her useful mind-warping powers, so she lied, telling her she could sense what people were thinking, but she still wasn’t very good at it. Antares noble women didn’t use classrooms to practice their powers, they just did, and Vilandra dream-walked Rath-Michael every night he was away. He only blocked her out after battles, before their journey back home, when he was hurt, and he didn’t want her to worry until she saw him back still alive for her. That was hell for her because she knew why he did it, and she cried until he got back. All that time, since she arrived in Antar, Ava used her powers to stand by Rath-Michael when he returned from battle, and Zan healed him simply mind-warping everyone into not acknowledging her presence. Then, pretending she was falling for Zan, she would go to his room at night, although she didn’t let him lay a finger on her, to watch together the couple next door in their wild lovemaking, while she mind-warped him into thinking they had soulful conversations. Rath-Michael was used to feel Zan watching them, so he just ignored them, surprised that Vilandra didn’t comment it with him. She didn’t seem to feel it at all, so he had decided that what she didn’t know, wouldn’t upset her. The dreaded betrothal came, and to everyone’s surprise, Ava seemed pleased and smiling. Vilandra thought maybe Ava had finally found something she liked about Zan, but she couldn’t imagine what without being grossed out. The guests for the betrothal ceremony arrived all morning, as did the victorious army and Rath-Michael, with a horrid sword slash that ran down from the small of his back to halfway down the middle of his thigh. After Zan took care of him with the invisible Ava present, Vilandra spent the afternoon relaxing with her boy at the lakes to return to the castle with servants all over making sure everything was as it should be. The best place they could be was, of course, their bedroom, for a second round of their kind of action. Among the guests, to everyone’s unbelieving eyes, was the governor of Hanar’s advisor and his son Khivar.
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ñusta
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the martyr of antar
Chapter 68
When Ava saw Khivar, she knew why she had been smiling. She had sometimes had premonitory dreams, and last night, when she was so depressed at her betrothal next day, she had had one, in which this mysterious young man, helped her get in Rath-Michael’s arms, in a sexual embrace. So things would get better for her, and Khivar would be the key. The king and Ava’s father, had been, in their youth, a mysterious duo, considered brilliant by all the teachers, and the rest of their classmates tried uselessly to befriend them. They simply rejected all their attempts and looked down on them as being so far beneath them. This gained them the hate and contempt of everyone from their generation, as their reputation for loners, and selfish bastards, who wouldn’t share their accomplishments with anyone, was heard of throughout the entire galaxy. Khivar’s father had been the leader of the opposition: those who loathed them, and did anything to discredit them, but they were too strong together. He attributed the invitation to an attack of regret, and the way they were both doting on him, made it clear. He knew it was because of his recent discovery of the technique of shape-shifting, which they had uselessly tried to discover, and so far had been unable to. He planned to let them sweat, because there was no way he was sharing. When Khivar had become 18, a few years ago, his father had confided him the secret of all the humiliations those two had put him through, and Khivar felt an instant hate for them. He had promised his father that he would make it up to him, no matter what it took. But now the king’s daughter, Vilandra had caught his eye, though she was joined at the hip with the son of Antar’s invincible army’s warlord. Rumours flew all over the galaxy, and the young warrior’s deeds were well known, which made him a poor competitor. He had also heard that the Antar scientists had almost managed to even up with them in the shape-shifting, and that had both his father and him very upset. Since Vilandra, was for the time being, out of his league, he turned to Ava, who didn’t seem too enthusiastic about her husband, not being even close, as she walked around the huge room, though her weird smile had him intrigued. He approached her, very respectfully, and she accepted him and seemed at ease with him. When he had taken her hand in greeting, empathy being his power, as his father’s, he could immediately tell she was an amazing mind-warper. He considered her very interesting, then. Their conversation was, apparently just everyday empty stuff, but he could easily read between her lines, specially the way her eyes kept wandering surreptitiously towards the young warrior. He managed to craftily introduce in the conversation, that whenever he wanted something that seemed unreachable, he would concentrate in whatever surrounded his target, and eventually that would lead him to his prize. He winked at her, suggestively before taking leave of her, with a smile, and returned to his father’s side. A secret smirk was shared and then he went to see what his cousin Nicholas, who had come acting as their personal assistant, had found about the latest scientific news of the planet, sharing another secret smirk with him at the information that no further progress had been achieved. Khivar noticed his father having a close conversation with the king and he approached them. Then in a sly movement, to ensure his dark purposes, Khivar introduced his cousin Nicholas and asked the king to allow him to be of some service in the castle. After a quick thought, the king decided he could be Lady Ava’s personal guard, unknowingly sealing the next generation’s tragic destiny. Nicholas, being in his late thirties, had mastered every power possible, and had no problems getting what he wanted from the king, being the most perfectly undetectable spy Khivar could ask for, in Antar’s castle, assuring him not only easy access to the premises, as to the Lady Vilandra herself. That very evening, after the betrothal, Ava, following Khivar’s suggestion, had Zan spent the night on a chair in his room, with his silly grin, while she watched Vilandra and Rath-Michael for inspiration. Ava was no fool, she had also noticed how Khivar looked at Vilandra, and decided to take a risk. In the early hours, while it was still dark, she went to Khivar’s room and saw he was expecting her. She complimented him on his empathy and he complimented her on her mind-warping. She told him she knew he liked Vilandra and that it was obvious to him she liked Rath-Michael. She promised to help him with Vilandra if he found a way to get her in Rath-Michael’s bed. Khivar told her he would give her an advanced wedding present, and she could start working it out with Vilandra, he didn’t need it that fast, especially now that Nicholas would be right there. Anyway, Ava had access where Nicholas didn’t, like girly talk, so if he pleased her, she would give them everything they wanted. The very next evening, Nicholas gave her the promised present. Ava went to Vilandra’s room, past midnight and knocked on her door. Then weeping, she asked her to come to her room and stay with her a little. Rath-Michael was fast asleep, so she went with Ava. Once in her room, Ava mind-warped her and left her sitting on her bed, while Nicholas turned her into Vilandra’s likeness and she returned to Rath-Michael’s side. She had no problems turning him on, and having her way with him. A little before dawn, Nicholas knocked softly on the door and made the switch. Vilandra had no idea of what was going on, believing she had been the one with Rath-Michael, and so did he. Thanks to Nicholas, Rath-Michael was hers every time she wanted, provided it was in the early hours, without his knowing it, or anyone else. No wonder she looked so happy at her wedding. A few days before getting married, Zan visited the scientists asking for a special favour. He wanted to know if they had any other earth abductees, and they told him they had been helping a brother and a sister, who were the children of a wealthy couple. The earthlings, who were Zan’s and Vilandra’s ages, complained that although they didn’t lack anything that money could buy, they craved for their parents’ attention. They were constantly travelling because they were important politicians and hardly had time for their children. The scientists had placed them in Antar with a loving common family of the citadel who had prepared them for a confrontation with their parents, which had gone extraordinarily well, reaching an understanding and things had worked out wonderfully for them. They were going to be brought for a last visit any time soon. Zan asked them to bring them to his wedding, where he had something to ask from them. His wish was granted and the earthlings were thrilled by the honour. Right before the wedding, Zan asked the boy if he could adopt his name, because his cousin had an earth second name, and Zan had always envied the important way it sounded. He also wanted a double name, the second one being from the earth. Then Vilandra enthusiastically interrupted, asking the same favour from the girl, who felt the same as her brother. So Zan would become Zan-Max and Vilandra added Isabel to her Antares name. Ava wanted a double name too, and since there was no one to give her one, she adopted her mother’s name: Tess. A year later, when the now Vilandra-Isabel turned 18, she had the best present ever: she was betrothed to Rath-Michael. The governor of Hanar, with his advisor and Khivar, were again amongst the guests, with Ava-Tess family, from Kathana. The future advisor couldn’t keep his eyes away from Vilandra-Isabel, swearing he would make her his, and cursing because she only had eyes for Rath-Michael, and they couldn’t keep their hands from each other. According to Nicholas, Ava-Tess was providing him with very useful information constantly, anyway he wanted to talk to her personally and he managed to do so during the party, in one of the balconies. She told him she had found and abandoned guard tower with a small room on it, that could easily be accessed from outside, and he only had to ask and Vilandra-Isabel could stay with him, efficiently mind-warped, while she enjoyed Rath-Michael. And Khivar’s rendez-vous with Vilandra started the very next day. You know the rest and you know how it happened. I know you’ve been getting the dreams, so I don’t need to go through that unpleasant part again.
When Ava saw Khivar, she knew why she had been smiling. She had sometimes had premonitory dreams, and last night, when she was so depressed at her betrothal next day, she had had one, in which this mysterious young man, helped her get in Rath-Michael’s arms, in a sexual embrace. So things would get better for her, and Khivar would be the key. The king and Ava’s father, had been, in their youth, a mysterious duo, considered brilliant by all the teachers, and the rest of their classmates tried uselessly to befriend them. They simply rejected all their attempts and looked down on them as being so far beneath them. This gained them the hate and contempt of everyone from their generation, as their reputation for loners, and selfish bastards, who wouldn’t share their accomplishments with anyone, was heard of throughout the entire galaxy. Khivar’s father had been the leader of the opposition: those who loathed them, and did anything to discredit them, but they were too strong together. He attributed the invitation to an attack of regret, and the way they were both doting on him, made it clear. He knew it was because of his recent discovery of the technique of shape-shifting, which they had uselessly tried to discover, and so far had been unable to. He planned to let them sweat, because there was no way he was sharing. When Khivar had become 18, a few years ago, his father had confided him the secret of all the humiliations those two had put him through, and Khivar felt an instant hate for them. He had promised his father that he would make it up to him, no matter what it took. But now the king’s daughter, Vilandra had caught his eye, though she was joined at the hip with the son of Antar’s invincible army’s warlord. Rumours flew all over the galaxy, and the young warrior’s deeds were well known, which made him a poor competitor. He had also heard that the Antar scientists had almost managed to even up with them in the shape-shifting, and that had both his father and him very upset. Since Vilandra, was for the time being, out of his league, he turned to Ava, who didn’t seem too enthusiastic about her husband, not being even close, as she walked around the huge room, though her weird smile had him intrigued. He approached her, very respectfully, and she accepted him and seemed at ease with him. When he had taken her hand in greeting, empathy being his power, as his father’s, he could immediately tell she was an amazing mind-warper. He considered her very interesting, then. Their conversation was, apparently just everyday empty stuff, but he could easily read between her lines, specially the way her eyes kept wandering surreptitiously towards the young warrior. He managed to craftily introduce in the conversation, that whenever he wanted something that seemed unreachable, he would concentrate in whatever surrounded his target, and eventually that would lead him to his prize. He winked at her, suggestively before taking leave of her, with a smile, and returned to his father’s side. A secret smirk was shared and then he went to see what his cousin Nicholas, who had come acting as their personal assistant, had found about the latest scientific news of the planet, sharing another secret smirk with him at the information that no further progress had been achieved. Khivar noticed his father having a close conversation with the king and he approached them. Then in a sly movement, to ensure his dark purposes, Khivar introduced his cousin Nicholas and asked the king to allow him to be of some service in the castle. After a quick thought, the king decided he could be Lady Ava’s personal guard, unknowingly sealing the next generation’s tragic destiny. Nicholas, being in his late thirties, had mastered every power possible, and had no problems getting what he wanted from the king, being the most perfectly undetectable spy Khivar could ask for, in Antar’s castle, assuring him not only easy access to the premises, as to the Lady Vilandra herself. That very evening, after the betrothal, Ava, following Khivar’s suggestion, had Zan spent the night on a chair in his room, with his silly grin, while she watched Vilandra and Rath-Michael for inspiration. Ava was no fool, she had also noticed how Khivar looked at Vilandra, and decided to take a risk. In the early hours, while it was still dark, she went to Khivar’s room and saw he was expecting her. She complimented him on his empathy and he complimented her on her mind-warping. She told him she knew he liked Vilandra and that it was obvious to him she liked Rath-Michael. She promised to help him with Vilandra if he found a way to get her in Rath-Michael’s bed. Khivar told her he would give her an advanced wedding present, and she could start working it out with Vilandra, he didn’t need it that fast, especially now that Nicholas would be right there. Anyway, Ava had access where Nicholas didn’t, like girly talk, so if he pleased her, she would give them everything they wanted. The very next evening, Nicholas gave her the promised present. Ava went to Vilandra’s room, past midnight and knocked on her door. Then weeping, she asked her to come to her room and stay with her a little. Rath-Michael was fast asleep, so she went with Ava. Once in her room, Ava mind-warped her and left her sitting on her bed, while Nicholas turned her into Vilandra’s likeness and she returned to Rath-Michael’s side. She had no problems turning him on, and having her way with him. A little before dawn, Nicholas knocked softly on the door and made the switch. Vilandra had no idea of what was going on, believing she had been the one with Rath-Michael, and so did he. Thanks to Nicholas, Rath-Michael was hers every time she wanted, provided it was in the early hours, without his knowing it, or anyone else. No wonder she looked so happy at her wedding. A few days before getting married, Zan visited the scientists asking for a special favour. He wanted to know if they had any other earth abductees, and they told him they had been helping a brother and a sister, who were the children of a wealthy couple. The earthlings, who were Zan’s and Vilandra’s ages, complained that although they didn’t lack anything that money could buy, they craved for their parents’ attention. They were constantly travelling because they were important politicians and hardly had time for their children. The scientists had placed them in Antar with a loving common family of the citadel who had prepared them for a confrontation with their parents, which had gone extraordinarily well, reaching an understanding and things had worked out wonderfully for them. They were going to be brought for a last visit any time soon. Zan asked them to bring them to his wedding, where he had something to ask from them. His wish was granted and the earthlings were thrilled by the honour. Right before the wedding, Zan asked the boy if he could adopt his name, because his cousin had an earth second name, and Zan had always envied the important way it sounded. He also wanted a double name, the second one being from the earth. Then Vilandra enthusiastically interrupted, asking the same favour from the girl, who felt the same as her brother. So Zan would become Zan-Max and Vilandra added Isabel to her Antares name. Ava wanted a double name too, and since there was no one to give her one, she adopted her mother’s name: Tess. A year later, when the now Vilandra-Isabel turned 18, she had the best present ever: she was betrothed to Rath-Michael. The governor of Hanar, with his advisor and Khivar, were again amongst the guests, with Ava-Tess family, from Kathana. The future advisor couldn’t keep his eyes away from Vilandra-Isabel, swearing he would make her his, and cursing because she only had eyes for Rath-Michael, and they couldn’t keep their hands from each other. According to Nicholas, Ava-Tess was providing him with very useful information constantly, anyway he wanted to talk to her personally and he managed to do so during the party, in one of the balconies. She told him she had found and abandoned guard tower with a small room on it, that could easily be accessed from outside, and he only had to ask and Vilandra-Isabel could stay with him, efficiently mind-warped, while she enjoyed Rath-Michael. And Khivar’s rendez-vous with Vilandra started the very next day. You know the rest and you know how it happened. I know you’ve been getting the dreams, so I don’t need to go through that unpleasant part again.
ALIENS FULL TILT!
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ñusta
- Obsessed Roswellian
- Posts: 510
- Joined: Thu Nov 11, 2004 10:52 pm
- Location: heights of Machu Picchu
the martyr of antar
Hey Grace, I hardly have time to check on feedback anyway, but thanks for yours. Remember, there was no Maria in Antar, and Michael and Isabel were not siblings and thrown together since very young. But in Roswell, New Mexico, Michael and Maria's love can solve all their problems. On the Max issues, I hate double crossers, it's the worst thing a guy can do to a girl, and I've seen it too many times in good friends and what it has done to them. Once they do it, they'll do it again. They're unreliable. I don't know one who really repented and came through. Isabel was not a bad person, she was tricked, and she didn't deserve it.
ALIENS FULL TILT!