The tale about the Laughter of Azbezil - Prologue

This is a story about explicit sex and other adult-only things. If you are underage or offended by such material, you should stop reading now. The story, setting and characters have been made by the author, and all rights are reserved.

The Tale about The Laughter of Azbezil

Prologue

During the age of darkness, there existed a country where the people were proud of their happiness, but in truth, the kingdom was headed for chaos and sorrow.

In the following years, many would question why none saw the danger and reacted before it was too late. The wise answer is that the problem was not lack of knowledge, but rather the opposite.

The danger to the kingdom had been foretold many hundreds of years earlier. With the warning repeated and repeated, the kingdom’s citizens no longer feared the peril waiting for them according to the prophecy but had forgotten.

Many of you listening may now be wondering why none of the great heroes that travel the world searching for evil came to help if the citizens so well knew about the danger.

The honest truth is that I don’t know why no hero came; I don’t think there were fewer heroes back then, so the answer must be something different.

If you care for a guess, while most prophecies are just messages from the gods, there is a different kind of prophecy where the prophecy itself holds real power. Some people might use the word fate to describe this kind of might that controls a whole kingdom’s destiny, but what would be the source of such fate that directs the citizens of the realm to stand or fall alone?

The gods claim no responsibility for fate but instead talk of free will, so what better explanation for the so-called predestination than the actual prophecy itself?

Anyway, it is time for us to turn to the tale about the Laughter of Azbezil. The first part of the tale is called The Hidden Danger, but before the actual story starts, I will need to describe some of the events that happened before this war and conflict began.

We could call this the story’s actual prologue even though it builds on events from hundreds of years before.

These events that set the larger conflict in motion happened in a small village just south of the capital. The townlet was known for nothing else but its famous Inn, Evolin’s stag.

* * *

“Wait isn’t there such an Inn in Blueridge? The village that makes those strange harps?” a man shouted from the other side of the room.

The storyteller sighed at the disruption; it would be that kind of crowd this evening.

The man seemed like the ultimate reminder of what kind of small Inn it was. The tiny village itself would not have been able to sustain any Inn without the frequent traffic on the road outside of the townlet.

In his leather vest, the stocky farmer who had made the interruption seemed like a local that probably never had gone further than to the nearest town.

“Perhaps there is such Inn there, but the village I am speaking about is not famous for any Harps or anything other than the Inn, so let’s ignore the similar names,” the storyteller replied.

“It is not just similar names; they are the same!” the man continued with a proud tone in his voice. He doubtless wanted everyone to know that he knew distant places.

“The Blueridge Inn perhaps got its name from this tale, so I suggest we let the man continue,” a man clothed in a black hood suggested. His ebony features could barely be seen below the black hood as he gave the farmer an unfriendly stare.

The storyteller would not say the black man had a fighter’s build, but he was not farmer material but looked more like the adventurer kind.

The farmer was on the way to continue to complain when he took another look at the hooded man that sat alone by his table despite it being one of the best tables directly in front of the bar. He made an excusing nod, and the black-clothed man responded in the same fashion while a sinister smile played over his lips.

“Good point, my young lad, so let me continue the tale,” the storyteller said.

* * *

A man called Bardium Strong-grip owned the Evolin’s is. He had two servants employed, and with these and the help of his family, he ran the Inn quite successfully. Bardium was not rich; there is little money to earn for a small Inn, even if it on the way to the capital, but the family was doing reasonably well.

Bardium had two children, a 10-year-old boy named Tip and an 18-year-old dauhter named Pymaria.

Pymaria was a classic beauty that indeed would have stood out in any city, but in the little Inn, her beauty was no boon but mostly served to gather her unwanted attraction.

Many of the Inn’s male visitors and quite a few of the female ones could not help themselves to comment on her waist-length long blond hair and her slim but athlete body that got its training from the many heavy tasks required to run a small Inn.

The question of why this kind of beauty would stay unmarried to such a late age is apparent. Bardium Strong-grip himself is part of the reason. Few would call him greedy, but he must be said to be very reluctant to pay any kind of bride price.

The main reason for Pymaria not looking for a husband was that Pymaria herself wanted something else. Traveling storytellers like myself had told her plenty about the large opera over in Naldoc, and she dreamed of becoming the star at that scene and had little desire for the life of a home wife.

* * *

“We asked for a thrilling story with lots of erotic stuff, and you tell us what?” the farmer on the other side of the room complained.

The storyteller gave him an angry stare as he frustrated tugged on his grey beard.

“Could you please be silent,” another man objected, “The girl will, of course, have to do sexual favors before she reaches the opera. I think it sounds like a promising start of a story.”

“That is perhaps fine for you, but I want a tale about some girl forced to have sex with some hideous monster until she can’t avoid screaming out loud due to her lust,” the farmer said.

“Why would any girl ever like such thing happening?” one of the female guests asked angrily.

The storyteller suspected her also to be a local, but not best friends with the farmer if you considered her stare filled with scorn.

“The point would be that she wouldn’t like it at all!” the farmer spat. For a moment, it looked like he would throw his mug of ale towards the woman, but then he instead drank heavily from it.

“Is it you or the gifted storyteller that is telling the story?” the man in the black robe asked.

Somehow his voice broke through the raised voices at the Inn. Everything went silent as the rest of Inn again considered how dangerous the man could be. He carried no visible weapons, but something about him hinted of danger.

The storyteller sighed. His fingers were touching the almost empty money bag at his belt. He must simply put up with the audience if he wanted to sleep in a bed this night. He felt compelled to tell the story despite the manners of the crowd.

* * *

Pymaria had like I already have told you, plenty of experience of being the centerof guests’ attention, but this particular night a guest arrived that was unusual.

Covered in a long blue robe, the young man eyed the Inn with skeptical eyes. He had a backpack on his shoulder where the keen observer could see the edge of a magical spellbook. The man named Prox Davli had placed it there on purpose to remind the world of his magical skills.

“Could this Inn offer room and food fitting for the great adventurer Prox Davli?” he asked in a loud voice that disturbed more than a few discussions around the room.

Bardium himself was standing nearby, and with a frown on his lips, he stepped up behind the adventurer and placed a heavy hand on Davli’s shoulder.

“Just go to the counter like everyone else,” Bardium suggested as he pushed him towards the counter.

Prox Davli stumbled forward and turned around with a rather red face when he saw the Innkeeper’s broad shoulders, some of the anger dissipated from him.

“No need to be brutal,” he complained.

“No need to disturb my customers,” Bardium Strong-grip responded and gave him a challenging stare.

Prox Davli gave Bardium another stare, especially looking at visible scars on the Innkeeper’s upper body that hinted at a previous life with much more adventures than a small Inn.

Making up his mind, he nodded in response and made an excusing gesture with his hands.

“I want a room and a dinner, with dinner served in the room,” Davli said.

“If you pay in advance,” Bardium said. Davli nodded; he had plenty of coins to spend.

A short while later, Pymaria arrived at Davli’s room with the stew of the evening. She knocked on the door, and he opened it so she could carry the tray inside.

“I am sorry for my father’s treatment of you,” Pymaria said as she placed the food at the table.

“No problem, young lady,” Prox answered. “Evan while I am adventuring mage famous in over six kingdoms, it seems my fame has not reached this part of the world yet.”

“Would you like extra blankets or something similar?” Pymaria asked.

“No extra blankets, but some company would be nice,” the young mage answered without any hint of a grin on his face.

“That would hardly be proper,” Pymaria responded and curtsied. She made sure to keep her face even and not show how she loathed this question that she heard so often.

“Nothing like that,” Prox responded. “I just want to tell you about my adventures. They will probably be possible to read them in a book when I find a publisher up to the task of handling the tales in a suiting fashion.”

“I look forward to the book then,” Pymaria responded with a smile on her lips.

It was funny how all people claiming to be famous authors passing by always spoke about having a new masterwork in progress but never could report they had finished any previous book. It was part of the job to no hurt the ego of the customers.

“I understand. Let me be frank with you. I think you have an adventurous spirit not suited for a little Inn like this. Have you ever thought about becoming an adventurer? Imagine the luxury you could live in afterward if you discover a real treasure,” Prox Davli said.

“Adventuring sound far too dangerous, especially if you only have the skills to run an Inn,” Pymaria explained. “I leave the treasure for people like you. I hope you a good night’s sleep.”

She left the room, not knowing how Prox Davli looked after her when she had left.

“I wonder if she is aware that she is touched by something magical,” he mumbled to himself.

He could not tell what the magic was, but he had felt a premonition that it was something that would be important for the rest of his life.

His clumsy attempt at convincing her to become an adventurer had been a failure, but he had not been able to constrain himself when he felt his premonition.

The young mage ate his food as he considered his options; a determined smile eventually appeared on his lips. There must be some kind of angle he could use towards a young barmaid like her in a backyard place like this.

He left his room and went outside to take a smoke on his pipe. Outside he encountered the young boy Tip that was fetching more water from the well.

“Lad, you know the barmaid with blond hair like you?” Prox asked.

“Of course, she is my sister,” Tip responded.

“What does she dream about?” Prox asked.

“Why should I tell you?” Tip asked.

“Because you want a copper coin from me,” the young mage responded.

“She spends most of her spare time to practice singing. She dreams about singing at the opera in Naldoc,” Tip told and then received the coin.

Prox Davli returned to his room and fetched feather pen, ink and scroll from his bags. His lips twisted in a sinister smile as he thought about how he would work to ensnare the young barmaid.

* * *

The next morning Pymaria encountered Prox Davli in the garden outside of the Inn. He was standing still meditating silently with a flower in his hand. Pymaria first thought that he must be praying, but it did not look like he was disturbed when he noticed her and opened his eyes to look at her.

“Sorry for disturbing you, but my father wants to know if you intend to keep the room for another night?” Pymaria asked.

Prox Davli looked at her with a smile while he placed the flower on the ground slowly.

“No problem, young lady. I thought about my former comrade Dyrian that perished during our effort to find the treasure.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Pymaria mumbled. “When can you say if you intend to rent the room for this night also?”

“I won’t be staying since I have two tickets for the ship Nightingale that will take me to Naldoc, and I need to leave today to catch it,” the young mage responded.

“Two tickets to Naldoc?” Pymaria asked.

His words made her think about her dream to apply to the opera there. Getting the funds to pay for the ship ticket was one of the more significant challenges to her opera dream. It was always possible to let yourself be recruited to some ship to avoid ticket fares and getting paid instead, but the risks were also evident. Pymaria understood she would need valid tickets if she ever should dare to travel there to fulfill her dream.

“Yes, my ticket and the one intended for my dead comrade Dyrian,” Prox lied. “I suppose I can afford the expense now with the treasure I found, but it feels bad to have a ticket that will not be used. Maybe I can find some person at the harbor that needs to travel but is short on coins.”

“You are going directly to Naldoc?” Pymaria asked.

“Indeed I will,” Prox replied. “I need to sell loot at the auction house.”

Pymaria hesitated, blushed and licked her lips.

“Could I look at the ticket?” she finally asked.

“Certainly,” Prox replied and made a show of having trouble to locate the ticket in the backpack.

When he finally produced it, the ticket looked very genuine. Wine strains from a bottle made it look a bit filthy, but it offered the wearer transport on the ship Nightingale to Naldoc with all fees paid in advance, including food.

What Pymaria did not know was that Davli had used magic to make the forgery, and without any magic training herself, she had no opportunity to spot the ticket as fake.

“Looks like you are thinking about something. Do you have a friend that needs a ticket?” Prox asked. “Much better for me to sell it now to somebody that needs it now instead of taking the risk that I find nobody when I am departing to Naldoc.”

“I want to go to Naldoc myself,” Pymaria said, “, but I don’t have any money to pay for the ticket.”

“Actually the money is not of greatest concern of mine; remember that I and Dyrian’s found the treasure before his unfortunate death. I am more troubled by the waste of the ticket not being used at all,” the young magician said.

“Are you seriously suggesting you would give me a ticket for free?” Pymaria wondered as she recalled his inappropriate comment about preferring company instead of blankets.

“Seems I just did!” Prox responded with a laugh. “The chance of actually finding somebody in the harbor that need so badly to go to Naldoc of all places is minimal the chances of getting the ticket sold is minimal. You seem like a perfect receiver of the ticket.”

Pymaria frowned as she thought about the offer. “Are you trying to bribe me to get into my pants?” she finally asked since his previous answer did not convince her.

“No, you get it with no strings attached. I can give you a magical guarantee I will never ask for anything in return for it,” Prox said.

“How would I know it is a real magical guarantee,” Pymaria reasoned. In reality, she was clueless about magic and had never heard about anything called a magical guarantee.

“You will know for sure,” the young mage promised.

In truth, he was very manipulative; he would give the forgery for free but intended to be very careful not to promise that the fraud had any specific value or that it was a real ticket. He would frame a truthful vow and leave it to Pymaria to fill in the blanks that made her believe in the scam.

“Bardium would never accept that I leave the work at the Inn,” she objected. “He wants me to stay around to help here at the Inn.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Prox said. “Yet I must admit I don’t understand. Surely you will get married in quite soon and will thus leave the work at Inn no matter what.”

“As if my father would ever agree to pay my dowry,” Pymaria mumbled.

She hesitated for a while, and the young mage gave her time to think.

“I would want the ticket if you do the guarantee I get it for free and that you help me find this ship. I just can’t ask for my father’s help to find the ship; you must not tell him,” she finally said.

“Why should I speak to him?” Prox asked. “The Nightingale departs fairly soon, so you better hurry up and pack your belongings.”

“Show me your magical guarantee,” Pymaria prompted him.

“You need to open yourself to my magic so that you don’t accidentally resist,” he told her, and she nodded despite not really knowing how to accept a spell.

The young magician touched her temple and mumbled a spell. Pymaria beamed at him as she felt the magic touch her.

“I promise you there are no strings attached, and you get the scroll without ever having to give anything in return,” he said.

“I trust you,” Pymaria said, and Prox Davli worked hard to hide his smirk. How easy it was to convince somebody to delude themselves when you had tricked them into accepting a spell that did nothing else but make them more susceptible to your manipulations.

“Thanks a lot, Prox Davli. I will forever be in gratitude to you,” Pymaria said and then hurried away to fetch her belongings.

Prox Davli carefully hid his smug smile as he went to fetch his gear. A short while later, he and Pymaria walked away from the village.

Pymaria walked first, eager to escape from her father, and the young magician followed while keeping a watch for followers. He would not want to be caught by surprise if Bardium Strong-grip arranged a rescue mission to save his daughter from going away with an unknown adventurer.

* * *

When the night arrived, they had put a fair distance between themselves and Evolyn’s stag. Since they were far from any villages, their camp was in a clearing close to the road.

They didn’t feel the need for a fire with the warm summer night, and Prox Davli could use magic to heat the stew Pymaria carried with her in a jar. They also had cheese, bread and ham that Davli had in his backpack and thus had plenty to eat.

If there had been any watching them, they would have seemed like some typical traveling companions enjoying each other’s company, but Pymaria struggled with her growing unease with the situation.

At the Inn, she had felt it was apparent she had reason to trust the magician, but now she could not understand why. She knew nothing about him, and here she was in the wilderness alone with him, far from any people.

She had tried some small talk during their travel, but all she got back was boosts about how great adventurer he was. Eventually, she decided that his tales of adventures suggested that he was either a legend in the making or a compulsive liar.

The problem was just his intention to her could be harmful even if he were the bold adventurer he claimed to be.

The wise thing would have been to return home to the embarrassment of admitting she had run away, but what if his boosts were just his personality?

He had, after all, given her the ticket that could fulfill her dreams. Could she return home just like that when she had no actual evidence of foul play?

Worse was that if he had bad intentions for her, would he allow her to return home?

Pymaria was a clever young woman and decided that her best option was to play around and hope that nothing bad would happen before reaching some village or town. After that, she could part ways with the young magician and feel safer.

After eating, they decided it was time to sleep. Pymaria had not dared to try to bring any sleeping gear since fetching such would have raised many awkward questions at the Inn. It had not seemed like a big problem since she had assumed they would be staying at Inns or villages, but somehow the magician had happened to take them on the road to the wilderness, and there was not a single village nearby now when night came.

These thoughts renewed Pymaria’s worries about the intention of Prox Davli. Her knowledge of the kingdom’s geography was limited, but she knew that even while the actual towns were sparse, there was usually a village nearby. When there was a real wilderness, there were usually some pretty good reasons why nobody dared to farm the lands there, but the magician seemed utterly unconcerned about the wilderness.

Her thoughts were interrupted as the young magician gallantly offered his sleeping blankets to Pymaria. Himself he took his heavy cloak, and Pymaria felt grateful he had not insisted they share the bed.

She had trouble falling asleep. It was not the first night away from home, but previous trips had always been temporary. Leaving home not to return was a big thing to do. The ground felt uneven as she tried to relax enough to go to sleep.

The fact that the sleeping gear she borrowed from Prox Davli still carried his smell did not make things any easier. She considered to twist around to find a better position to sleep in but rejected the idea. Most likely, the ground would be just as uneven as her current spot.

She heard a sound from Davli’s direction, and she glanced towards him. To her surprise, he left his sleeping place and approached her, half-naked with erect cock dangling visibly for all the world to see.

With an awkward feeling in her body, she looked at his very erect cock. She might technically be a virgin, but living on the Inn, she had seen plenty that she afterward preferred to have not seen. Some visitors had even tried to force themselves on her before Bardium chased them away.

“No, you said I get the ticket for free,” she objected as she sat up to reveal that she was awake.

“Indeed I did, and you got that worthless scroll for free, doesn’t mean I don’t want you to pay me back for me giving you my protection from the wild nature,” he taunted her.

“No, your magic guaranteed your sincerity,” Pymara responded.

“Letting unknown people cast spells on your mind. I sure hope I don’t get you pregnant with your level of stupidity,” he taunted in an even meaner tone.

Prox’s fingers moved urgently up and down his stiff member as he moved over to her.

You might be wondering why Pymaria remained motionless as he moved to the sleeping blanket. She was, in truth, presenting her best professional blank face with no visible emotion. It was something she had learned at the Inn, and now it suited her well as she tried to reason about what to do.

The problem was Prox Davli claimed he already had messed with her mind through magic; how much resistance would he allow before he used his magic?

Even if his magic could not control her if she resisted, he could for sure hurt her badly with his fire magic.

If she wanted to escape safely, she needed him disabled on the first try. She would need a head start as she ran.

He extended his arm, and his fingers found her ripe breast through her tunic. He growled in anticipation as he explored the softness of her breast. Pymaria faked a moan of arousal, and Prox could not contain himself but moved forward to force his eager cock into her sex.

At least he began that movement until Pymaria kicked him as hard as she could between his exposed legs. Prox Davli fainted as abyssal pain filled him.

Pymaria scrambled up from the sleeping blanket and ran away from camp. Branches from bushes and trees dug into her as she rushed past them. Her shallow nightclothes of linen gave little protection to the dense vegetation, but she wanted as much distance as possible.

She was worried that the young magician would recover and intercept her with magic, so she pressed forward despite the discomfort of stumbling into branches in the darkness.

She arrived at something made from stone, and for a brief moment, she thought she had found some kind of a building, but then she realized it was just stone pillars.

She dared not to wait in case the magician was following her and moved past the giant stone pillars that somebody had put outside in the deep forest.

There was a clearing in the middle of the group of stone pillars with no vegetation at all. Curious, Pymaria halted her steps and looked around when she suddenly noticed a single red glowing eye that looked down at her from twice her height.

“Visitor,” a horrible monstrous voice whispered.

“I mean no harm. I will leave,” Pymaria squeaked as the unknown monster looked at her from inside the shadows. She understood the being could see her within the pale moonlight while she could not see the beast.

“No harm without a weapon,” the voice agreed. Pymaria hesitated about what to do but then tried to dodge to the right and run.

The monster had an incredible reach and caught her with ease. She could not help herself but scream in panic as the being took hold of her arm and lifted her up.

Monster fingers, inhumanly large, searched her body and explored her female form. Pymaria could not contain herself and screamed again as the monster molested her.

The monster turned her around, so he held her legs in an iron grip. His teeth found the thin cloth hiding her lower body and ripped it away with a tearing sound.

Pymaria realized she had closed her eyes and opened them. She stared directly into the monsters throbbing cock. He moved her so that his inhumanly large tongue could lick her pussy and the cock suddenly touched her chin.

Disgusted, Pymaria tried to move away from the cock. The movement seemed to disturb her rapist that gripped her hair. Pymaria had no chance to resist as he rubbed her face towards his slimy cock.

“Pymaria, are you there?” Prox Davli asked from a distance. A growl filled the giant as he heard the sound of the intruder.

“Smells magic,” the giant mumbled in an annoyed tone and dropped Pymaria. She hit the ground hard with a groan of pain.

“Are you there?” Prox asked from a closer distance.

“Watch out!” Pymaria cried out, still disoriented from the impact with the ground.

Anything done by the lecherous magician would be better than getting raped by a giant monster. She still did not know what kind of monster it was, but she had seen the monstrous large cock. It would kill her if it entered her sex.

Still dizzy from the earlier impact with the ground, she registered that Prox Davli had arrived at the clearing.

“Cyclops!” the young magician screamed as the three and a half meter high giant charged forward.

Prox hit the giant with a firebolt that left a horrible smell of burnt flesh, but the giant continued forward and reached the magician within moments.

With Prox Davli’s fire, she could better see the circle of stones. The stone pillars had many runes over them that were glittering when lit by the flames’ light.

The cyclops had meanwhile gripped Davli and smashed him into nearby stones. The magician didn’t accept his fate and unleashed destructive spell after spell into the cyclops’ massive body despite the beating.

Pymaria sat up as she felt unease at the runes on the stones starting to fade. Knowing nothing about magic, she could not tell what runes meant, but she did not doubt the runes were there for a reason.

Finally, both cyclops and mage collapsed on the ground. The cyclops had stopped moving totally, but the magician still seemed to be alive even while this looked like a miracle considering the level of violence he had suffered in the clutches of the cyclops.

“Damn premonitionrest of my life” Prox Davli uttered before his voice gave away. From the sound of it, his broken ribs had penetrated his lungs. She could hear him drowning from the blood filling his lungs.

“What premonition?” Pymaria asked, but the magician was to hurt to answer and dying in front of her.

If anything should be said to the defense of Prox Davli in this tale, he did a mighty deed this last night of his life when he killed the cyclops. For the first time, he did the kind of heroic deeds he always claimed to be doing while adventuring. Unfortunately, none would care to remember when the crisis hit the kingdom.

Pymaria sat there for a while and wondered if she should try to help the magician, but she did not have the medical skills needed and quickly realized it would be futile.

Suddenly she got the feeling she was not alone inside the stone circle.

* * *

“What? The giant died before he raped the girl, and now the magician dies also?” the farmer from the other side of the room exclaimed in disappointment.

“Stop interrupting,” a nearby woman countered. “The storyteller just said there was somebody more there. This story is surely not a typical tale, but I find it very promising.”

“Just let me drink something before I tell you who was present,” the storyteller said and looked down at his tankard of beer.

He had no idea who had given it to him while he talked, but it sounded very promising for upcoming tips that somebody had bought him an ale. He took a large swallow before he continued.

* * *

Out of nowhere, a man had appeared. He lay nude on the ground, breath slowly calming down as he made weak attempts to move without succeeding. Every time he tried to move, his body did seizure.

Pymaria guessed him to be around thirty years or so. To be honest, the only word that suited him would be gorgeous. The fires from the fight still lit the stone circle enough for her to memorize his lean, perfect body.

With a flutter of anticipation, she realized she could see his private parts. She moved her gaze away; the close encounter with the cyclops inhuman cock was still far too fresh in her memory to consider any eye candy.

It still seemed she had the monster’s slime on her skin. With a shudder, Pymaria used her clothes to wipe her face before approaching the man carefully. He had by now finally seemed to recover enough to move without any seizures.

“Are you all right?” Pymaria asked.

“It hurt quite a lot when the magic prison shattered,” the man said. “I reckon this was no rescue attempt?”

He had managed to sit up even though he still seemed to be in pain. She could not help to notice he did not try to cover himself up.

“No, this is not any rescue. The magician had tricked me into the forest and then chased me when I ran away. That is how we stumbled into this place; the fight with the cyclops caused the runes on the stones to fail,” Pymaria said as she pointed to the corpses.

“That is a relief,” the man said. He bent down and checked that Prox Davli indeed was dead. “I would have hated it if a good man had died to set me free.”

“He was not a good man at all,” Pymaria commented with a shudder.

“No matter the circumstances, I must thank you for rescuing me,” the man said and bowed for her. “I plan to reward you eventually, but for the moment, I need help with some mundane things,” he said and gestured to his naked body.

“We have a camp some distance away from here where the magician’s gear is, and there might be clothes there that fit,” Pymaria said

“Please, show the way,” the man said with a warm smile.

They walked back to the camp in silence. Pymaria could not decide what to say, and the man seemed deep in thought.

Halfway Pymaria realized the cyclops had ripped her clothes in pieces, meaning she showed lots more nude skin than she was comfortable with. Red with shame, Pyrmaria tried to cover herself, yet she dropped this idea when she saw the man walking naked beside her. She just had to accept she also was showing a lot more nude skin than she preferred.

She glanced at him and could not help that her gaze followed his trim body downwards until she looked at his cock. He noticed her attention, and his cock suddenly twitched and arose to full hardness. He made no move to cover himself, and she averted her eyes.

In the camp, the man got dressed. Luckily the clothes fit him reasonably well. If possible, she found him even more breathtaking with clothes on.

Pymaria pulled a blanket over her to change into the spare clothes she had with her. She did not have many clothes to choose between but settled for a very modest linen dress; she did not want to give the wrong impression. It felt great to be fully clothed again. She put down the blanket and turned to the unknown man.

“Sorry if this sounds a bit offensive, but this day has not been the kindest to me, and I worry about who you are,” Pymaria said. “The way I found you in some kind of magical prison makes me a bit uneasy. Could you please tell me who you are and why you got imprisoned to ease my worries?”

“I can understand your hesitation. The tale about how I let myself be tricked into being trapped in prison is a long and sad one,” the man said. “The one who imprisoned me was my father, King Davrion VI. Are you familiar with the prophecy of the witch king?”

“I have little knowledge about the affairs of the kingdom and even less about any prophecy, but I am confused; I have not heard anything about the prince of the kingdom is missing. Where you put into prison recently?” Pymaria asked.

“Sad how the web of lies spreads,” the man said. “We are truly two twin brothers. My name is Davrion VII, and I am the true heir to the throne. My twin brother Daragion was the younger and spent his youth away from the royal court to train to be a bard. I cared little for my brother’s activities and dedicated myself to the mystic arts. I should have paid more attention because the grand vizier Azbezil turned my brother against the rest of the family, and they conspired to let Daragion take my place and become King.”

“I am not very familiar with the royals, but the old king died a few years back, so I think your brother is the king now,” Pymaria said as she tried to recall the rumors she had heard while working at the Inn. She had no recollection of hearing that the King had a twin brother.

“That is sad to hear, and worse, it means that it up to my feeble-minded brother to try to stop the vizier from bringing ruin and destruction to the kingdom. That is bound to end failure; he is far too weak-minded to resist manipulation,” Davrion said.

“What do they want to do?” Pymaria wondered.

“What my brother wants, I don’t know, but as I battled the grand vizier at the stone circle, he revealed that he wants to make sure the prophecy of the witch king comes true. I think Azbezil means to take the throne himself and become the witch king. In the end, I was defeated when my father appeared and used a magic scroll to imprison me. I don’t know what kind of lies the vizier told my father to make him turn against me. Possibly he thought I was my brother,” Davrion said.

As she was listening, the meaning of his words suddenly connected for Pymaria. He was not just some unknown prince but the rightful King of the country. “Youyou are.are the King,” she stuttered and then went down on her knee. “I am sorry, my King. Forgive for being so caught by your tale to understand what you were saying; I meant no offense.”

“No worries, I have not ascended the throne yet and sworn the wows, so I am little besides being heir to the throne,” Davrion said and then continued, “I would be very grateful if you would help me recover my throne; Azbezil must be defeated. When I have access to my treasure-room, I can easily reward you.”

“I ran away from home since I dream of becoming a singer on the opera in Naldoc; I am not any adventurer material,” Pymaria admitted.

“No worries, I don’t expect you to slay my enemies,” Davrion said. “On the other hand, I don’t think it is a coincidence that you came here. I can sense a subtle blessing covering you; some kind of priest or divine being did think you so important that they wanted to protect you from harm.”

“A blessing? I don’t understand; I have seldom visited a temple and is not really religious. I have not committed myself to any god,” Pymaria said.

“Nothing says the blessing was cast at a temple. The entity might have some way to divine the future and tell that you would be important to something they value as important in the future,” Davrion suggested.

“Why me?” Pymaria wondered.

“I don’t know, but I am curious to learn why. Let me make you a deal. Follow me on my quest to save the throne from Azbezil’s clutches, and I promise I will sponsor your career at the opera when I have taken my throne,” Davion said.

“Your offer is most kind, my King,” Pymaria mumbled.

“I think I have an idea for how to recover my throne that I can tell you about later,” Davrion said. “Yet there is something I must ask you. I have caught your lustful glances of my nude body, and my body is burning with desire for the soft touch of a female.”

He moved closer and bent down to kiss her. Pymaria stared back at him, too surprised to complain. Their lips touched, and her body felt like soft clay as his hands moved around her and pulled her close.

Pymaria looked into his eyes as his quick hands opened up her clothes’ buttons to expose more bare flesh for him.

He kissed her again, and Pymaria felt so very weak. She felt his hard cock gently but firmly press into her stomach as he hugged her close.

“No, please, my King. I am still a virgin,” Pymaria finally whispered as he broke the kiss and kissed her upper body, leaving a sensation of his hot kisses on her naked skin.

“A lovely grown woman like you a virgin?” Davrion asked with surprise and held her at arm’s length.

“Yes, I am a virgin, please don’t do it,” Pymaria pleaded. Absent-minded, his fingers played with her nipple as he studied her. Pymaria could not help to moan as his talented fingers toyed with her most wonderfully.

“You ask this even while your body is squirming in sexual heat. Will your resolve hold for more than moments?” Davrion asked while his hand painfully slow slid down towards her pussy that had become so incredibly moist and wet from his sensual touches.

“Not even for a king; I don’t want my first time outside in a forest like this,” Pymaria finally managed to mumble.

“Then I promise you that the only circumstance when I will have sex with you is if I make you my queen,” Davrion said and moved back.

Pymaria almost moved after him to urge him to continue doing his wonderful touching, but she restrained herself as she felt the night air touch her exposed skin.

“Queen?” she finally asked as she pulled the clothes around her again and moved away.

“I have not recovered my throne yet, so thinking about taking a queen is a bit early,” Davrion responded absent-mindedly. “Still, it doesn’t hurt to think forward. It has happened the King married a woman of commoners, and if I would do such, I think you would be among the best candidates. Yet please do not hear this as any way to try to backtrack the commitment to aid you the opera house, but more like observation caused by my long loneliness.”

Pymaria wrapped the blankets around her to sleep. Her body still trembled from sexual excitement. She had been moments from accepting and welcoming the lovemaking with the handsome King without a throne and could not help but feel a bit cheated. Slowly she drifted into sleep.

* * *

“I love this story,” a woman said.

“What do you mean?” the tiresome loud farmer asked. “We have just been cheated on yet another sex scene.”

“It is so romantic, but I am sure you will get your fill before they marry, and he gets the throne back,” the woman said.

“If it a story where the girl marries Davrion in the end, then I will leave now. I hate those kinds of cozy happy-ending-stories,” the man said, turning towards the storyteller with a challenging look on his face.

The storyteller looked around the room with a broad smile on his lips and then spoke up, “Sure, I can tell you. They will marry and have nine children.”

“I am leaving!” the farmer barked and left the room on unsteady legs. When he had left, a collective sigh of relief filled the room.

The storyteller spoke the silence, “Now when he is gone, I want to add that nothing in the story has been ruined. The story has more than enough of what he asked for, but I didn’t like his attitude. Let’s return to the tale.”

* * *

When Pymaria and Davion woke the next morning, Pymaria felt unsure of what to say. Doing small talk with a prince of the kingdom in the same banter as done on an Inn felt wrong, but she no knowledge of actual court life.

Davrion seemed deep in thought, so they ended eating breakfast without much talking at all.

“To take back the throne, I need to go to the capital and recruit soldiers so I can make a move towards the royal castle,” Davrion finally said.

“Doesn’t soldiers cost lots of money?” Pymaria asked.

“Indeed they do,” Davrion answered. “Yet while you slept, I investigated the loot left by the magician. It will be enough, especially if I can borrow your half. You should be able to claim half his treasures considering what kind of hardships he forced on you, but I don’t know how much time there is left before Azbezil makes his move.”

“I would not mind if you were to borrow the loot to save the kingdom,” Pymaria responded after giving it some thought. It was not like she knew how to sell loot, so it was mostly useless to her.

They finished eating and then departed from the campsite to travel towards the capital.

The upcoming adventure did fill Pymaria with dread, but being on a noble quest felt better than yesterday’s unease when the magician kept directing them into the wilderness for no good reason. Now she was walking towards even more apparent danger, but she had made an actual choice to participate, and that felt much better.

While they walked, Davrion kept asking about the state of the kingdom, but Pymaria did know next to nothing about such matters. She had rarely paid any attention to the rumors around the crowd at the Inn.

The heir to the throne had been locked away by the magic many years earlier since he asked about things that happened when Pymaria had been a child. She struggled to recall the rumors that she had heard at the desolate Inn, but she could tell that he was not satisfied with the answers.

When the afternoon came, Davrion had given up political questions and instead asked Pymaria to sing for him. Pymaria blushed; how could she have any song suited for the ears of a king?

His handsome face made her insides tingle every time she looked at his bold features. It did not make things easier. After a while, he insisted, and she sang a little tune about love and passion that she had learned from a minstrel passing the Inn.

When he gave her a warm smile when she had finished, she continued to sing more songs. None of them seemed suited for a royal court or a king, but he seemed to enjoy the more evocative ones. He seemed most pleased with her songs but didn’t make any comment but just listened.

“Why can’t he break that stupid promise he made,” Pymaria thought as she flirted lightly with him.

The idea to stay pure until marriage had lost most of its attraction now; she wondered if she would live the rest of her life regretting that she did not lose her virginity to a king. His talk of a king taking a commoner as a wife was ridiculous.

Davrion smiled at her but never acted at what her songs suggested they should do. Finally, he motioned her to stop as dusk had begun to set.

“We are almost at the capital,” Davrion told. “It will be easier to contact the soldiers if I am alone. Will you wait here at this barn until I return?”

“I can wait,” Pymaria answered. “I am weary from all the traveling, but I look forward to it.”

Davrion left after they had eaten some food they bought from the farmer, and Pymaria lay down to sleep. She didn’t sleep well; nightmares of dangerous monsters like the cyclops at the stone circle stalked her and prevented good sleep.

She woke up and found Davrion speaking with three strangers. One tall fighter and two shorter persons of uncertain professions.

“Good that you are awake. These are my trusted men,” Davrion told. He pointed at the fighter, “Marol Dorak. The other two are Lombadiel Iglach and Harzun Gando.”

“A pleasure to meet you,” Pymaria responded.

“This is the sweet girl I spoke about. Yet no use to spoil time here; the signs indicate the witch king’s coming is close, so we must act with haste. Let’s hurry to the castle,” Davrion said.

The three men looked eager as they left the barn.

Pymaria couldn’t help but feel nervous as she followed the four men’s silhouettes through the night. To attack the castle seemed bold even if Davrion had used the treasure to recruit professional soldiers.

What place did she have in all this? She did not know, but it had been clear that Davrion wanted her to follow.

With a shudder, she thought about what kind of trouble she could end in if this attempt to take back the throne failed.

She realized they might still be in trouble if the attack succeeded. What if this Azbezil had left the castle on some errand or had magic that could bring him away? Even success at the court would just be the first step of a long struggle to save the kingdom.

“Strange that Davrion knows where he could find those men so quickly at the capital,” Pymaria thought. She did not get time to think more about this as they finally arrived at the castle.

She estimated the castle to be six floors tall if you did not count the large tower in the middle and the four small ones at the building’s corners.

The castle covered an area far more extensive than her whole village. There was no castle yard or outer wall, but just one massive building. Around the tall building, there was a water-filled moat that protected the castle. A large drawbridge allowed passage over the moat, at least when the wrought-iron gate was open. Late in the evening like this, the castle gate was closed.

Looking at the castle’s color in the moonlight, Pymaria concluded that the lower part, with its very narrow arrow slits and impressive defensive design made in massive granite. The upper stories of the castle were done in marble. The luxurious large windows and statues looked much newer than the lower part of the building.

The group walked towards the drawbridge. Pymaria looked around after the other soldiers at the command of Davrion’s hired men could be hiding. She found no trace of such men.

“Where are the other men you hired?” Pymaria asked.

“Don’t worry, there are no others, but my friends are up to the task,” Davrion said.

The fighter named Marol Dorak stepped closer to the massive wrought-iron gate. Pymaria wondered if he intended to knock on the gate when he suddenly took hold of the gate and pulled. With a high-pitched tearing sound, the metal gave away. The gates peeled apart as if the material was paper.

Pymaria stared in disbelief at the fantastic display of strength. None of the others seemed surprised. A bell rang inside the castle as Davrion’s three men stepped forward through the broken gate. Inside there was a massive number of soldiers rushing to fight the invaders.

At least that was what Pymaria thought initially, but then she realized a terrible battle had begun inside the gates as soldiers turned on soldiers.

Marol Dorak and Harzun Gando stepped into the mayhem and began to tear apart any castle guard that happened to come too near them.

Pymaria stared frozen in dread at the bloodbath, but dimly she realized that Davrion kept her hand locked in a solid grip as he dragged her forward. She had no choice but to comply since he was much too strong for her to resist him.

They came inside, and soldiers appeared armed with bows. Pymaria had a moment to wonder if she would be hurt before the bow users turned on each other and started to brawl.

A few soldiers managed to ignore getting dragged into the battle, but these suddenly staggered backward from invisible pain. Marol Dorak arrived and started to tear the bowmen apart in a spray of blood and gore the moment after.

Pymaria mumbled incoherently as the three beings in human form quickly and brutally defeated more and more soldiers. Some of the castle defenders had managed to hit them with arrows by now, but the injuries did not slow them down as they slaughtered everyone in range.

“You! They are” Pymaria said towards the man holding her in an iron grip. He claimed to be the rightful King, but Pymaria was suddenly very aware that she had accepted this thought without supporting evidence.

He greeted her outburst with a burst of prolonged laughter that sounded so eerie that Pymaria squirmed in discomfort; there was not even a tiny bit of amusement there but just pure malice.

“Oh, you get that now,” he taunted. “You should have learned the prophecy of the witch king better. There is no vizier in the prophecy since our kingdom has never had such a position. I just needed to spin a tale that would stop you from wondering about the true reason that father sealed me. What could work better than invoking the classical evil figure of the corrupt vizier and given him my name in case you had heard that Azbezil was evil.”

“I get that now, but what are they?” Pymaria whispered in panic as he opened a door into a small armory and dragged her inside. At least that took her out of the line of sight of the slaughter outside.

“They are demons that are very eager to kill my brother and make me King to fulfill the prophecy. I enlisted them for the price of a virgin,” the still amazingly handsome prince explained as he pushed her inside.

“Virgin?” Pymaria mumbled. “Do you mean you promised me as payment to the demons?” she asked, her voice filled with despair.

“In truth, I pretty much promised them veryvery many virgins, you will just be the first,” he answered as he sisterly chuckled. “I need to go now; there is a royal court to slaughter, so I get room to reward those who want to join my cause.”

He closed the door, and Pymaria heard the key turn; there were no other exits. She could listen to more and more screams from the outside. Every one of them stopped in the middle of the cry in a very unsettling way.

* * *

“A very good twist. Of course, it was the evil brother that was locked away since he was dangerous and not the good one,” a man said, and everybody that had been sitting still caught by the story suddenly started talking.

“Why did they do not kill him if they knew him to be evil?” a woman asked.

“I am sure there is good reason,” a man beside her commented.

“What a horrible story. Is the poor girl to marry that madman after the demons rape her?” the woman asked with a loud voice.

“Who is telling the story? I can tell how it ends, but it gets much better if I get the time to tell the whole story without interruption,” the storyteller said, and the talking ended.

* * *

Most people panic when sure death awaits them, but there is a rare kind that doesn’t. Pymaria never saw herself as courageous, but she picked up a large battle-ax and attacked the door with frenzy when it turned silent outside. Practice from working with cutting lumber at the Inn allowed her to handle the heavy ax well enough to open the door eventually.

Outside she expected to find piles of corpses, but the gate hall was empty. Only the blood on the walls and floor reminded her how many defenders of the castle had died here.

“Where are the bodies? Does the monster eat them?” Pymaria mumbled.

Outside the castle, she could see the pale moonlight. Nothing seemed to be moving outside. Towards her left, the corridor deeper into the castle opened up. She could still hear distant screams; the voices hinted attackers had defeated the defenders and now raped the captured servants.

Pymaria hesitated, logic suggested to run for her life, but she felt so guilty for not seeing through the deception. If she had known better, she could have used the time at the barn to send a warning. Did she not now have a responsibility to do something for the poor victims?

It seemed suicidal to attempt anything, but what if the blessing that had intrigued the villain was because she was supposed to do something at this moment of crisis.

“Sounds like they will continue for hours; I will have enough head start even if I look around carefully first,” Pymaria decided despite her fear as she walked further into the castle.

She could hear the screams from the victims. Some screamed in pain, yet the most disturbing ones were the cries of pure lust. Pymaria avoided walking closer to them; she didn’t know if the demons would be able to sense her if she stalked too close. Looking in those parts of the castle where innocents might be hiding was the only thing that seemed safe.

There were beautiful tapestries at the walls that showed the legendary kings and queens of the past riding through the country’s huge forests on the way to fight evil.

“Seems like evil forces caught up with them,” Pymaria thought and repressed a shudder.

The tapestries had turned grander, and she realized the stairs and corridors had taken her towards the royal chambers. It felt like madness to continue, but no sound came from inside, and on trembling legs, she peeked inside.

Somebody had demolished the furniture of the room; only the bed remained intact. Pymaria looked around when she suddenly realized there was somebody on the bed. A young girl was chained there. Pymaria estimated her to be about sixteen years old. Manhandled by inhumanly strong hands and then raped for the goddess knows how long. Cum was still slowly flowing out of her abused pussy.

Pymaria felt ill with fear as she approached the bed to examine the lock holding the chain. She had no idea how to open it without a key.

“No use, he took the key,” the girl whispered to her.

“I am so sorry,” Pymaria whispered back.

“Stop this nonsense. I order you to escape from the castle and put yourself into safety,” the girl ordered, and from her tone, it seemed obvious she must be a princess.

“I need to bring you from here,” Pymaria said.

“It’s no use. That laughing madman that looks just like my father wants me to be the mother of his children,” the girl replied. “He told me so as he violated me again and again. He will never stop chasing me.”

“He is the king’s brother, I think,” Pymaria mumbled.

“Never knew father has a twin brother, by the name of Azbezil,” the princess said. “In any case, I order you to place yourself in safety. Nothing is gained if they find you to ravish and kill you.”

“I will try to escape,” Pymari promised. “Is there any way I can be of assistance?”

“You can do one thing,” the princess said. “Behind the large mirror, father hid the royal signet ring.”

“A ring,” Pymaria said as she examined the mirror. “Yes, I found it.”

“That ring is essential. If you can get it to safety, the evil imposter will look less convincing when he takes father’s place,” the princess said.

Pymaria started to leave but halted her step. “What is your name?” she asked.

“I am princess Ezame. Please remember my name,” the princess said while tears ran down her cheeks.

“I am partly to blame for this. I share responsibility since I should have seen how strangely he acted. I will do whatever it takes to help you and take revenge. When this ring returns with a stranger or me, you should be on alert since that may be your only chance,” Pymaria said.

“That sounds like a prophecy worth believing in,” Ezame said.

“What harm can it do?” Pymaria wondered and lied. “It is a real prophecy. My uncle could tell the future, and he always said that I got a gift for it. I feel that this one is true.”

Pymaria left the room and stalked through the empty castle. Every distant cry of lust or pain made her stumble in fear. Earlier she had assumed the screams could be attributed to the demons, but after encountering the princess, she had realized not only demons could act horribly. Maybe it was Azbezil himself that took liberties with his victims.

After what she felt like hours, she finally reached the entrance. She walked over the drawbridge into the still night, unsure what to do. The castle lay in the forest east of the capital, long out of hearing distance from the city. Could she get to the town to get help?

The problem was just that city gates would be locked for the night, and she had no actual evidence to prove that an unknown brother, together with demons, was killing everyone at the castle.

Suddenly Pymaria heard a window open on one of the top floors. Without hesitating, she threw herself flat on the ground to avoid discovery. No sound indicated anyone had seen her, but instead, she heard something land in the castle moat.

Pymaria glanced upwards; the window had been broken at the top floor, and standing there looking down was the familiar face. In the pale moonlight, she could not see if he still carried the evil smirk from when he had locked her in the armory. He turned and walked away from the broken window.

She rushed forward to see what had dropped into the moat. Dimly she could see human form below the water, tied to a heavy statue.

She pulled the knife from her belt and dived into the moat. Moments later, she returned to the surface with the person in her arms. She could tell the male body was severely injured, one leg completely missing and the other badly damaged.

Pymaria pulled him up from the moat and placed him face down to empty the water out of his lungs. He started to cough, and when he was done, Pymaria turned him over so that she could see his face.

She froze as he stared at Davrion’s familiar features. His face was slightly contorted by pain but still unconscious and gorgeous.

“Could the demons have turned on him?” she wondered, but then she realized she had seen the evil one in the window.

The man was not the evil imposter, but instead the true King Davrion. Filed with worries, she looked at his injuries that looked very dangerous. She saw severe bleeding from the injuries and used his torn clothes to cut the blood flow with tight knots.

It would be preferable that the injured limbs took damage than he died from general blood loss. With a grunt of effort, Pymaria lifted him and placed it over her shoulders.

Worry filled her as she began walking. Could she hope to find the path to the capital in darkness despite never have traveled there before? Would she be able to carry his heavy male body far enough?

She calmed down when she found the load acceptable. It took almost no effort to walk away from the castle. She did not notice it, but the royal signet ring glowed with a blue light on her finger.

More and more sleepy, she continued walking away from the castle. Eventually, the sun arose. Pymaria was too tired to notice that the ring on her finger gave her the strength to continue and continue.

As in a dream, she carried the unconscious king hour after hour away from both the royal castle and capital. In her tired state, she had no way to know that she kept doing this for three days. Only vaguely did she register the changing light and that her steps the whole time took around villages and farms, but she felt an urgency to continue towards some unknown destination.

As morning light came, even the mighty magic of the ring had started to falter. As the last act, the magic ring banished the exhaustion from Pymaria so that she would find where to put her feet without the ring guiding her.

Pymaria halted her step and looked around, finding herself deep into the forest. She glanced backward, wondering if any search party was tracking them. Surely the false King must by now have discovered the moat did not contain the corpse of his brother.

She could perceive no sign of followers. She put Davrion down to stretch her back and realized that his body was burning with fever.

“He is dying. I should have stopped to clear the wounds and let blood flow into his damaged limbs,” Pymaria realized with regret.

She didn’t dare to examine the damage any further. The damage was already there, and she must simply find someone that could help him, or he would be lost.

“Don’t dare to die from me,” Pymaria mumbled and pulled him up on her shoulders. She stumbled forward with effort, luckily she had discovered smoke through the dense forest, and she walked towards it. She arrived at the source of the smoke, a little red cottage in a small clearing.

The cottage’s door seemed to have been painted black, but the color had faded from many years of sunlight and was now a pale grey. None seemed to have maintained the house for years, even though somebody seemed to have recently started to take care of the cottage since there were fresh plants in the garden. With the smoke from the fireplace, somebody must be home.

Pymaria knocked on the door, and the door opened as soon as she lowered her hand.

A stunning woman greeted her with a wide smile. Never before had Pymaria seen such perfect features that were framed by such long snow-white hair. The mixture of youth and old gave the woman a timeless appearance.

“Please help us,” Pymaria pleaded. “I think we are being chased, and this good man is dying because I was stupid.”

“Carry him inside and put him at the table,” the woman told Pymaria.

The woman wore a fancy green robe that closely hugged her slim form, and around her head, she had a silver-colored band that looked very luxurious.

Pymaria looked around nervously while the woman with a smile of curiosity bent forward and examined the King’s injuries.

“Please save him,” Pymaria pleaded.

The woman turned towards her and gave her a long stare.

“Nothing small you ask, young girl,” the woman said. “I suppose you can’t pay for the services asked?”

“I have nothing,” Pymaria admitted. “Yet I will help with anything, help you gather food, serve at the table or anything similar for so long it takes to repay you if you help him.”

“His loss is great. You understand that the hardest task will be to help him recover mentally?” the woman asked.

Pymaria nodded. To lose most of your limbs seemed like a horrible fate, but she understood that knowledge of what happened to all his subjects at the castle would be a worse burden.

“Will you then promise to devote all your free time from the garden and the kitchen to give him all the support he needs?” the woman asked.

“I do anything if you save him,” Pymaria promised.

“Then begin working in the garden,” the woman said.

“What?” Pymaria asked with surprise in her voice. “You help him if I only do just that?”

“You will help yourself. Gather food before the supplies run out is a good start,” the woman replied and motioned Pymaria to leave the room.

“What if he dies?” Pymaria asked. “What if he dies while I am outside.”

“Stop disturbing me. I need to deal with the King’s wounds so that he does not die,” the woman replied, and Pymaria hurried outside.

Pymaria left the room, and the woman removed his clothes and examined the injuries. The King lay unconscious, taking shallow and uneven breaths.

“Mighty powers in the royal signet ring, it has kept you alive, but it only stopped the coming death,” the woman said as she finished her examination.

She mixed lots of herbs in a pot and then put it in the fireplace to heat up. When it was boiling, she left the pot by the fireside; they would not need it until later.

She moved over to the injured King and put her hands on him. White light surrounded the body. When the light was gone, the King rested without any injuries left. Both legs and one arm were missing, but the scars indicated this happened years ago.

The woman sat by the fireplace and waited for him to wake up. It did not take long before the crippled King did that.

“Where am I?” he asked as he looked around, confused.

“You are resting in a cottage that you may borrow for as long as needed. You were severely injured during the battle at the castle and have become crippled,” the woman responded.

“How did I get here?” he asked as he examined his scars.

“Your twin brother Azbezil threw you into the castle moat since he needed you to drown. Fortunately for the realm, your brave daughter had given the royal signet ring to a young woman that, aided by the magic of the ring, saved you and carried you to me,” the woman answered.

“It seems fathers fears about Azbezil were well-founded. Somehow I always doubted the need to seal him away. Then I saw him arrive with such horrible creatures at his side. Can you imagine the fate of my people in the castle?” King Davrion asked as he struggled to hold back his tears.

“As a matter a fact, I have experienced the same kind of pain as them, but the important thing now is the prophecy about the witch king,” the woman replied.

“Yes, I know,” Davrion responded and cleared the tears away. “Someone from my family will one day be forced to face the mighty witch king, but I am crippled, and I doubt my now probably dead daughter will face him either. You will have to count on Azbezil to give us descendants that can complete the prophecy,” Davrion said as he looked with sorrow at his crippled body.

“There is a major fault in your reasoning. Your father sealed Azbezil away for excellent reasons. Your brother is the actual witch king that comes walking visible but will not be prevented,” the woman said. Davrion stared back at her with all color gone from his face. He frowned as he tried to make sense of her words.

“The prophecy says the witch king will not be opposed as he takes the throne, but father sealed Azbezil in magical prison since he tried to usurp my place as heir to the throne, so how can he be the witch king when father did the opposite of what the prophecy says?” Davrion asked.

“The prophecy talks about how the common people will react to the slaughter at the castle. As for your father, he wanted to kill Azbezil since he knew him to be the upcoming witch king, but a curse prevented him from telling anyone. He tried to kill your brother but found this to be impossible. Only after this did he decide to use the magic prison to buy himself more time. Azbezil’s henchmen realized what he was up to and triggered the curse to kill him in revenge,” the woman explained.

Davrion listened and tried to make sense of what she was saying. Finally, he asked, “Who must face the witch king?”

“Your daughter is his prisoner, so any children of Ezame will be corrupted. You better have some more children that can make a stand, rather many children are needed actually,” the woman said with a smile on his face.

“My queen died in childbirth, and what woman will want this crippled body anyway?” Davrion replied with ice in his voice. “Additionally any woman would be in danger from the moment that she gets pregnant. Imagine what Azbezil will do her if he finds her!”

“You make it sound like you would have many women you could choose among,” the woman said. “The choice has been made. It will have to be the girl named Pymaria that brought you here guided by the signet ring and my blessing.”

“I give my word as King that I will not make her pregnant. I will not ruin the life for the kind soul that saved me,” Davrion spat.

To his surprise, he only received a deep sigh back from the woman. She walked forward to the table with a mean look in her eyes. He felt like a small pray in front of a snake. Davrion gave her his best indifferent stare.

“I have no time to discuss this, so let’s us just cheat,” she said, and before he could react, she gripped his limp member. A bright light surrounded them both. When the light died away, the woman stood up.

“What did you do to me?” Davrion asked with a confused tone in his voice.

“I used an enchantment that hasn’t been used in a thousand years. A wizard that was a true sex maniac invented it a long time ago, and it makes your cock into something special. The magic was meant to avoid pregnancies, but I used it in a reverse fashion. Several benefits exist there; you can stay hard for as long as you want, no matter how many times you cum. As long as you stay awake, I doubt your erection will fail you,” she said.

Davrion stared back at her in utter shock.

“You don’t need to worry about creating kids by accident. The magic will regulate when you get your nine kids. Consider it a gift from me that you can have sex all the time without suffering from more kids than you can cope.” she continued.

Suddenly she shook her head with a concerned look on her face. “You better not let your kid taste your cum. The sex magic makes the cum highly addictive; they will not be able to cope with such lust. Remember this so you can act on such a situation quickly if it happens.”

She made a bow towards him and exited the cottage. Davrion sat on the table, too surprised to ask her anything before she had left.

Outside, the woman found Pymaria working hard in the garden.

“Will he survive?” Pymaria asked with as much hope that she dared in her voice.

“I healed him, I will leave now, but I count on you to look after the cottage and keep Davrion company,” the woman said. “As for pursuers, I will arrange so that they can’t find this place. As long as you stay here, you will be safe.”

She turned and walked out into the forest before Pymaria managed to form any questions.

* * *

A while later, the woman with the white hair arrived at a small camp deep into the forest. The six elven rangers present jumped in surprise when the woman suddenly stood in the middle of the clearing.

“Who are you?” the leader of the rangers asked as his hand went to the handle of his sword.

“I am a messenger, and I have a task for you,” the woman said as she took off her headband and revealed her pointed elven ears.

“We have no time. The pact between the humans and us are not worth much now when the humans let such a madman take over the throne. They blame us elves for the massacre at the royal castle. We are leaving to offer or service to the queen’s realm in the west,” the leader said.

“The brave elven rangers intend to stay away for a human lifetime. The problem is that it won’t work in this case since the Azbezil may well outlive yourself,” the elven woman said and continued, “The old cottage that I rebuilt with my magic is now the home of the rightful King Davrion. He and the young girl will have children that must be trained for the battle that awaits them and be protected from harm until they are ready for the fight.”

The elven rangers looked at each other with clear doubts on their faces.

“What right do you have to order us around? Why should we care about some human children?” one of the rangers asked.

“By my torment at the hands of the demon army in the great war, I hold claims on your clan,” the elven woman said and pointed at her snow-white hair.

“You are one of the ancients!” a ranger exclaimed with shock, and all the rangers quickly got down on their knees, “But I thought all of you died in the war?” the ranger leader asked.

“I answer yes to both questions, but about the concern for the children being human, it is pointless. After my magic work, the children will be half-elven,” the elven woman said.

“What more must we know, what is the most imminent danger?” the leader asked.

“My strength is fading. You must protect them until they are ready,” she answered and then her body lost its substance and disappeared without a trace.

“Blessed be us to have seen her. The hunt that we heard earlier is coming closer, so we better use all our skills and magic to prevent them from finding the cottage,” the ranger leader said, and his fellow elves fast assembled their equipment to leave their camp.

* * *

“She did heal you,” Pymaria mumbled as she saw Davrion in the chair beside the table. He sat nude there, doing his best to cover his member from her vision. The whole act seemed futile with the hardon he had.

“Indeed she did,” he said. “Sorry about the lack of clothes. She cut them up to tend my injuries.”

Pymaria blushed as she heard his words. She began to examine the cottage to ease the awkwardness.

“What is your name?” the King without a throne asked.

“Pymaria, daughter of Bardium Strong-grip,” she responded. She paused to look at him, blushing as she eyed how he tried to cover himself with his remaining right hand.

“You are free to leave. You have no obligations to me. I failed my duty to protect the kingdom,” Davrion said.

“Like you could manage on your own without help,” Pymaria responded. “Can’t even fetch yourself some clothes, can you?”

Her words caused Davrion to blush. Pymaria went over to the fireplace and looked at the pot. Curious, she bent forward and smelled. The smell was so intense that she staggered backward until she leaned towards the wall.

A load moan slipped past her lips as she tried to catch her breath. It felt like fire burning in her loins, waves of liquid energy flowing out from her sex.

Frantic, she pulled at her clothes; she needed to touch her sex. With a satisfied moan had her dress up and could play with her sex. She found her pussy already dripping wet.

“I think that woman put some drugs into the pot that forces us into this sexual heat. I cannot get rid of this hardon,” Davrion said. Please open the door so we can get rid of the incense.”

Pymaria ignored his words, even while she in no way ignored him. Her eyes drank the vision of his body as she painfully slow pulled her dress off her.

“Your brother was handsome, but you are simply not possible to resist,” Pymaria said as she brazenly touched her sex as looked at Davrion’s nudeness.

“Please Pymaria, think! You are not yourself. You have been drugged,” Davrion urged her.

He started to continue objecting when the vision of her dropping her dress made him go quiet. Only clothed in her smallclothes, which she pushed halfway downward, her fingers slowly but firmly played with her clit in a very suggestive way.

“Never have I let a man touch me,” Pymaria whispered in a hoarse voice. “Never have I voluntarily let a man kiss me.father urged me to save myself for some worthy. A king seems worthy enough to take my virginity.”

“You don’t want to do this. Look at me, I am a cripple,” Davrion objected.

“The one piece of you that I care about right now seems whole enough. I want to push you so deep, very deep into my body until we both scream in passion,” Pymaria said as she walked closer.

She bent her head and licked her left nipple. Without knowing it, Davrion had started to touch his cock.

“The incense causes this excitement; it is not what you chose yourself,” Davrion argued.

“You have no idea how beautiful you are. You drive me crazy with lust,” Pymaria said. “Looks alone could make me want you. Yet more important, I did promise the woman to serve you in every way. I get what she meant now. She wants us to have sex right now; that is why she made the pot with sex herbs.”

“You are far too young,” he objected.

“I chose to serve, and I love it when you jerk off. You do find me very sexy, don’t you?” Pymaria said.

Davrion froze as he understood what he was doing. He diverted his gaze to try to force the sexy vision out of his mind. She moved in front of him, and before he knew what had happened, he felt her wet tongue licking the tip of his cock.

By now, he didn’t even consider trying to stop her but just stared down at her as she very slowly took more and more of his member into her mouth.

“Cover your teeth with your lips,” he instructed her as he enjoyed the intense excitement but suffered some from her lack of experience.

She worked at fueling his lust with an eagerness that more than enough compensated for her lack of experience. She pulled him out of her mouth and took a deep breath.

“You taste so outstanding,” Pymaria mumbled as his hard cock twitched with lust before her.

“What if you get pregnant?” Davrion asked as his strong fingers played with her blond hair.

“I want you in every possible way. The woman said we would be safe here. None sent by Azbezil will find us. If you give me a child, then I am sure it will be fine,” Pymaria responded.

Davrion didn’t answer but pulled her up and made her move forward so that his cock touched her wet sex.

“This might hurt a bit,” he warned her.

“A king that believes in the myth of hymen, you still have things to learn,” Pymaria responded as she directed him into her.

He groaned as she felt her tight sex around his cock. From her lips came a moan filled with anticipation. Never had he thought a virgin could be so eager for sex. He froze with his large cock inside her wet folds.

“I took your virginity,” Davrion mumbled. His fingers played over her naked skin as he wondered if he needed to comfort her.

“As I said, the hymen is a myth,” Pymaria whispered. “I am not some terrified girl that will start to bleed since you forced yourself into me too quickly. Far from it…if anything, you were too slow. I am enjoying how your hard cock is stretching my insides and want to fuck you again and again.”

She began pulling up and then let the cock slide back into her as she moaned. They shared a quick kiss, and then she couldn’t resist anymore but started to ride him hard.

His hand found her left nipple, and she leaned forward to encourage him to touch her more.

The intense experience of her tight cunt made him lose his load failure soon, but just like the mysterious woman hand hinted, he didn’t lose his erection.

Panting, they kept fucking until Pymaria felt a tremble go through her. She arched her back as her whole body trembled in her first orgasm ever.

Davrion felt her cunt tremble around his cock and delivered yet another large load. After what seemed like an eternity, they both collapsed in the chair, totally exhausted.

“You are wonderful,” Pymaria whispered. “The incense has cleared, and I am still in love with you. Don’t ever try to send me away again.”

“The first sex in 15 years, and it’s the best of my life. Maybe I should just accept how life turns and take her as my wife. If she leaves here, my brother will not hesitate a moment to kill her to keep his real identity safe. Making her pregnant won’t increase the danger,” Davrion reasoned.

He looked down at her naked body, hugged closely to him.

“I won’t try to send you away,” he promised.

* * *

“This concludes the actual prologue of the tale about the laughter of Azbezil,” the storyteller said.

“Is the rest of the story like this?” the woman in the audience asked.

“It is very similar, but with many different twists. Tonight’s entertainment was only the beginning, so don’t expect to have been given the full treatment. The only way for you to find out is to give me enough tips to make me want to stay until tomorrow and tell you more,” the storyteller replied.

Many people came and gave coins to the storyteller, but the real surprise was the coin from the man in the black robe. A full gold coin and the storyteller stared in disbelief, with a few of those you could purchase trained warhorse.

“You get another coin every evening that I get to hear a part of this tale,” the robed man said and exited the room.

“I can live in luxury for the rest of my life if he is serious. The Azbezil tale is very long,” the storyteller thought as he went to get a first-class room from the Innkeeper.