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Chise was learning the hard way that the life of a wizard's apprentice wasn't all smooth sailing. Between the orders for their clients, which were growing in number every day, she also had to continue her training. Reconciling the two was not always easy. She had once made the mistake of trying to do too much and had read a grimoire on the little people while preparing a cold potion that a villager had asked her for. At least she had learned a valuable lesson from the resulting fiasco: in magic, one must always focus on one task at a time.
Today, she knew in advance that she would not have time to plunge into one of the thick volumes in the library. An epidemic of stomach flu was ravaging the countryside, and requests for remedies were arriving by the dozen. She had spent all morning bent over her cauldron, her features tense, but focused on doing the right thing. Once everything was poured into vials, she was about to go for a second round, when she realized that her bottle of mugwort essence, vital for this potion, had already given out its last drops.
“Come on…”, she bemoaned.
Making more of it would take her at least a day, if she got it right the first time. The backlog would pile up and the people in the surrounding hamlets, who were eagerly awaiting her help, would suffer through another night. In desperation, Chise made her way to Elias' office. She knew he kept ingredients there for emergencies and prayed he had the one she needed. She'd replace it as soon as she'd prepared some more, and anyway, he'd told her she could use it as much as she wanted.
She spotted the box containing the bottles at the very top of a display case, tucked behind other, smaller boxes. Chise pulled up a chair and pulled herself up. Even so, she could hardly see where she was putting her hands and felt like a little girl trying to sneak candy from a jar purposely put out of her reach. She fumbled and hesitated to move the small boxes first to get to the larger one. Finally, she felt confident enough to take only what interested her. The box, made of a light, delicate wood, was not so heavy, and she preferred to avoid touching Elias' things as much as possible.
What was bound to happen happened.
One of the small boxes slipped as she took the large one out of the display case and fell to the floor before Chise had time to react. It crashed to the floor and its contents scattered all over the room. Chise jumped down from her chair and immediately began to look for anything that had fallen.
The finely crafted ebony box, lined with silk, contained twelve slots for large black stone spheres, the size of golf balls. Miraculously, three of them had stayed in their place, but the others had rolled around. To Chise's relief, none of them seemed to be broken.
She caught the first one, which had ended up at the foot of the desk, and was about to put it back in its place, when a wave of images crashed her mind.
✧
The snowstorm was raging outside, and you couldn't see three feet in front of you. Elias was carrying a very young Lindel, who was barely able to stand on his feet. With each step, they sank knee-deep into the powdery snow and had to make superhuman efforts to get out. They would soon reach Rahab's home, Lindel was sure. They had to. Only she would know what to do about the curse that was eating away at him.
A gust of wind lifted his hood and he pulled it down over his face. Ever since they'd faced that thing, his skin sometimes began to glow with a soft golden glint that would have attracted the unwelcome attention of a passing musher with his sled. Wizards were not liked in these parts and they had to be careful. Again an impulse shook him, even more powerful than the last. If they didn't hurry, who knew what would happen? Fortunately, they eventually reached the bottom of the shack's stairs and arm in arm, climbed the steps with a clumsy step.
Seeing her former disciple's condition, the monocled mage jumped from her chair and, without bothering to greet them, helped Elias lay Lindel down in the room. She stripped him of his hood and checked him with her magic. It was clear from her expression that she had made up her mind on the matter before her examination even began.
“What did you try to fight this time?”, she asked with exasperated sigh.
Elias only responded with a guilty squeak, but Rahab didn't care. She grabbed her heavy wool coat from the peg and returned to the bedside. She crouched down to Lindel's level and stared him straight in the eye.
“The spell you're under is drawing all the magic around you. I know what I need to do to stop it, but I'm going to have to go get it. I won't be long.”
Lindel winced. He suspected the verdict would be of that order and he didn't like what his mentor was telling him. He'd seen power-hungry wizards get their hands on Sleigh Beggy’s capacities before and he had no desire to end up like them. No human body was made to store so much energy all at once.
Rahab opened the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a quartz, which she placed in Lindel's hands.
“In the meantime, direct your energy to this crystal”
Lindel nodded, though he doubted the measure would be enough to withstand the prodigious flood of magic he was about to endure.
“Lindel," she said, placing her hand over his. “Whatever happens, you must not let the magic overwhelm you, is that clear? You know what would happen.”
Of course he knew. And he'd rather die than go through it.
“If you must, then burn this house to the ground. But the magic that will begin to flow through you must never remain in your system. Each new pulse of magic that comes your way will be more devastating than the last. You must be prepared for that.”
Again Lindel nodded. He could already feel his fingertips going numb. Once she was ready to face the outside temperatures, Rahab disappeared into the vast whiteness and left them alone. Lindel took a deep breath, closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. Elias sat at the foot of the bed, silent, but his concern was palpable. Lindel knew him; he was angry that the spell hadn't hit him instead. Lindel, on the other hand, was thanking God that it hadn't. Who could say how a creature like Elias would have reacted to the spell?
As he had anticipated, the quartz fragment did not withstand the first influx of magic. It cracked and fell apart in his hands, rendered completely useless. Lindel sighed. He would have to find another way to spend all that excess energy and he already had an idea.
Straightening up in the bed, he reached into his pouch for the long silver dagger he used for certain spells. He pulled up his sleeve and cut the skin, not deeply, but just enough so that a few scarlet drops would come to the surface. His blade had never tasted blood, it would have to be purified for a long time under the light of the full moon before he could use it again. Elves and fairies abhorred anything that had to do with the body, the flesh, and even more so with suffering and death. They would no longer give him their help if he called them with a tainted tool.
At the foot of the bed, Elias let out a surprised exclamation.
“Come on, don't look at me like that.”
Lindel smiled and ran her fingers along the wound, which closed immediately. Healing magic was voracious in energy, but it also caused the least damage to the surrounding area. It was the ideal solution in his situation, or so Lindel tried to convince himself.
“For those like me who have healing hands, pain can be very sweet. It is not unpleasant.”
No, it wasn't really unpleasant, on the contrary. Every cloud has a silver lining, Lindel thought to himself as he scratched the inside of his wrist again with the tip of his blade. A sigh of relief crossed his lips. He sliced again but, a little zealous, cut the tendon. Immediately, a soft ball of heat formed in the pit of his stomach. He tried to ignore it. He could not give in to this pleasure, even if the temptation was great. He had gone to too much trouble to bury these desires in a corner of his mind where they would never see the light again. He could barely contain them under normal circumstances and thought back with embarrassment to all those times in the spring when he had clasped his hands around the stems of a rose bush to savor the tingle of thorns in his flesh.
He closed his eyes, breathed in, and focused on his healing. Elias fidgeted at the foot of the bed.
“You're uncomfortable.”
Lindel knew how much blood repelled Elias. It sent him back to his primal nature, to his animal instincts that he wanted to keep under control at all costs. Again, Lindel smiled gently at him. They both had their demons to cage; he understood that better than anyone.
“If you want, you can wait for me in the other room.”
“No, I'm staying with you.”
Lindel was about to reply that he was fine, that he had everything under control and that if he had to, he could always call him, but another surge of magic came over him. It was so powerful that he fell backwards onto the bed, contorted by the unheard of force that shot right through him.
“Lindel!" Elias shouted, throwing himself at him.
Without thinking, Lindel turned his dagger towards himself and thrust it to the hilt into his gut. The divine sensation of the icy silver penetrating his insides, perforating everything in its path, drew a groan that he did not even try to hold back. He lay motionless for long seconds, drawing on his excess energy to repair his organs as they broke under the blade. Teeth sunk in his lower lip, he tried not to curse. With calculated slowness, millimeter by millimeter, he withdrew the knife. He should have stopped there, now that the impulse had passed and he had managed to channel it. But the temptation was too strong, the opportunity would not come again soon. He had known the instant the blade had entered him that he had reached the point of no return. The last time he'd tried it, with his ordinary level of magic, he'd had to settle for his leg and the wound had taken weeks to heal. But this time, the spell gave him access to unlimited power and all the will in the world would do nothing to stop him from giving in to the temptation.
He penetrated himself again with a sharp blow, pierced his liver and stomach with one stroke. A little blood mixed with the gastric juices rose in his throat and flowed from his mouth. His cock throbbed between his legs and, if Elias hadn't been with him, he would have rushed in immediately to relieve the urge that was nagging him. Reluctantly, as soon as he felt he had reached the limits of his abilities, he withdrew the knife and placed it on the mattress beside him.
His terrifying friend was still standing over him. He watched him, confused. Lindel looked up, returning his gaze. The fever was making his head spin. It was intoxicating him and he loved it. Even when the wound closed, he could still feel the bite of the silver in his flesh. Lindel knew he wouldn't be satisfied with so little. More, he needed more.
“Damn..." he murmured with a smile. “I wish you hadn't seen that side of me…”
Elias did not answer, but Lindel realized then, through the haze that hung over his mind, that he was no longer watching him with concern but with lust. He had the hungry gleam in his eyes that starving wolves have, watching for the moment when the shepherd's back is turned. He had sometimes spoken to Lindel, in hushed tones, about his cannibalistic appetites. He'd told him how terrified he was of them, how afraid he was of losing control one day. More than anything else, he feared he would harm an innocent person because he had not been able to control his inner nature. But there was no question of harm or innocence in this place. And when Lindel let his gaze wander over her sharp canines, the idea came to him and never left. To be eaten…
“Do you like blood?”
He ran his hand through the puddle of blood that was forming under him and had already begun to soak the mattress. Never mind, he would make arrangements with Rahab to compensate her for all this damage. With his bloody fingertips, he stroked Elias' face, painting the white skull a bright red.
“You're hungry, aren't you? You want to eat me?”
Elias recoiled at the word, and Lindel took the full measure of his inhumanity. His friend did his best to contain himself, but he couldn't hide that spark in his eyes; that spark that was hungry for human meat.
“I'll kill you…”
“No, it's okay. You can do it... next time an impulse comes…”
He gave him a gentle smile, which he meant to be reassuring, revealing his red teeth at the same time.
“Devour me.”
He barely had time to say these words that a new wave arrived, even more terrible than the previous one. Magic was swarming in this place and it was coming at him, drawn in. His skin was covered with a glittering veil, proof that it was time to act. Elias did not move. His red pupils burned with lust at the banquet he was offered, but he still held back his beastly instincts. Lindel made a move to grab the dagger he'd laid beside him.
The terrible jaw closed on his arm the instant he moved it. Elias' fangs entered his flesh, tore the skin, crushed the muscle and broke his bones like a twig. The pleasure mixed with pain overwhelmed Lindel, so much that he could not resist the urge to plunge his hand between his thighs to massage his aching cock. Above him, Elias gradually regained control of himself and, gently, licked the wound as it closed. His long tongue, rasping like a cat's, tore away the flesh until only the bare bone remained, which was immediately covered with a new envelope.
With tears in his eyes, Lindel continued to stroke his erect dick, savoring the mixture of pain and pleasure. He felt the shame that always came after he had succumbed to his inclinations. The shame of having been carried away by these impulses that he usually managed to channel, the shame of feeding them for so long without being able to get rid of them, the shame of taking advantage of Elias’ instincts. He knew it would invade him as soon as he had his feet back on the ground, but right now, only one thing mattered: finding himself at the mercy of Elias and his fangs, torn apart, mauled. Devoured.
“Sorry... sorry, sorry," he moaned in his last bits of lucidity.
He repeated the words over and over, but they no longer made sense. Drowning in lust, he smiled as he felt thorny vines twist around his legs and prickle his skin. The tingling of the thorns felt like a caress on his battered body. Elias must have felt it, unconsciously, because the next second, a soft branch made its way under Lindel’s skin. Sharp with its prongs, it insinuated itself into the muscle, making all his nerves sing in its path, slid under the hypodermis like a snake under the sand, then returned to the surface a few centimeters further.
A flood of warm, pleasurable shivers washed over Lindel. Starting from her sex, he took her whole, from her toes to her hairline, while her fingers were covered with a white foam, burning on her fingers frosted by the harshness of winter.
He would have liked everything to stop there, that once satisfied, all desire to pursue this madness would leave him; but already he felt in his breast the brutal ebb that precedes the tidal wave. Another impulse was approaching, always superseding the last. With it came, ever stronger too, this incongruous desire to be consumed.
“Again…”
Lindel could feel the magic rising, gaining power by the second. He could feel its devastating violence, the backlash on his body if he let it take hold of him. With the tip of his dagger, he tore what was left of his tunic and drew a long scarlet line from the bottom of his sternum to the sacrum. It was only a scratch, only a guide, only an invitation for Elias, who would know what to do with it. Their eyes met one last time before the fateful moment. Beneath Lindel's skin, the vines stirred in anticipatory bliss.
The first blow of the fangs tore a howl from him and a part of his peritoneum. The pain was so great that he forgot for a moment the impulse that seized him.
His whole nervous system was agitated with disordered, contradictory signals. Tears rolled down his cheeks, heavy and foamy as the froth crashing on rocks, flowed to his mouth, wet and salty on the tip of his tongue. A clear liquid trickled from his nose and dripped from his chin. He tried to wipe it off with the back of his sleeve, but he found himself unable to move a muscle.
His insides were free of the skin and fat, escaping from the large wound Elias' teeth had carved into his flesh. Dazed, Lindel's first instinct was to grab them with his hands and put them back inside. His movements were still sloppy, but he was finally able to move, accustomed enough to this new pain to regain control of his body. He sighed, transported by the sensation of fingers running through those long, pink, slippery tubes. Again, the fever was going to his head, and he chose to let himself be carried away, just aware enough of what he was doing to regenerate as he hurt himself, just enough to keep himself alive, but never more than necessary.
Another assault by Elias widened the gaping hole that tore him apart. Lindel watched, fascinated, as the canines plunged into his organs, releasing a flood of blood as they went. The mattress beneath him was now saturated with blood and made a wet sucking sound with every movement. His cock, once again erect, demanded that we take care of him. Delighted to comply, Lindel pulled on what he vaguely identified as a part of his small intestine and plunged his cock into it. The softness of his viscera was perfect, unlike anything he had experienced before. In the middle of the soft, messy pile, just behind the bladder, he unearthed a plum-sized ball of flesh. When he squeezed it between his fingers, both happiness and pain made him scream.
Between two thrusts of his hips, Lindel admired Elias. With his face buried in the wound, the creature was feasting on his liver in a concert of bestial grunts. He felt each of its movements, each of its smallest chews; each time they led him a little higher in pleasure. The orgasm seized him, paralyzing, more powerful than any he had ever felt. The back arched, he threw back his head. He could only see a blinding white light.
Whatever happened after that, Lindel never remembered. He woke up numb as the morning sun beat down on him. He was alone in the little hut. He had been washed, dressed and put on a clean mattress on the floor. There were no scars on his body, but the walls were smeared with dried blood. They bore witness to the horror that had taken place hours earlier.
Curled up on his bed, Lindel cried until he had no more tears. He felt as weak as dirty, especially since his dick still tugged at him when he thought about it. Never had he known more perfect delights, more pleasure, and now he would have to live with two terrible certainties: his only two friends in the world now knew his darkness, and never again would he have the opportunity to relive such an experience. He would have given anything to forget it forever, to go back a few hours and burn the house to the ground instead.
Rahab returned a little later, when the sun had already finished rising in the sky above. She did not say a word to him, did not look him in the eye. She stayed in the room only long enough to place a velvet-covered box beside him. Inside was a marble so black that it gave off no light.
✧
When Chise came back to reality, she was still in Elias' office, kneeling on the floor. The huge wizard was facing her, holding the black sphere, in which soft silver wisps were now glowing, between his gloved fingers,
“I'm sorry!" she exclaimed immediately. “I just... it fell and I…”
“I'm the one who's sorry you had to see that.”
Elias pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped the sphere in it, before handing it back to Chise. He crouched down to get to her level and they watched the ballet of light inside the sphere without a word.
“Do you know what it is?”
“It's... it's a memory...?”
Elias nodded, confirming Chise's fears. For a moment, she had hoped he would tell her that it was just an illusion that didn't represent anything real, or some strange spell meant to punish the curious. She knew he was capable of such things, she had suspected it since she had caught him above her one night, a carnivorous glint shining in his eyes. More than anything, she wondered if she would ever be able to look Lindel in the eye again.
“Obsidian is a stone with fantastic powers", Elias explained, taking the orb from Chise's hands. “It's particularly useful for repelling negative energies and, in general, anything we don't want to face. Some memories must be kept, but that doesn't mean we have to let them haunt us.”
With his fingertips, he brushed the marbles left in the box. These, unlike the one she had held, were solid black, nothing floating inside. Chise deduced that they were empty.
“Personally, I prefer not to indulge in it too much. You never know in what hands your memory may fall. This one was entrusted to me by its owner, he couldn't stand what it contained.”
Elias placed the sphere back in its slot, then went in search of the others, quickly joined by Chise, who was careful never to touch them directly. She wondered as she caught up with the last one what they might be hiding, what terrible secrets Elias or any other wizard had decided to bury in them, but she didn't push her curiosity further. Some things were meant to stay hidden, forgotten inside a box until they were no longer thought of at all.
“What did you need?" Elias asked when they had finished.
“I was out of mugwort oil.”
Elias had only to reach out and retrieve the box from the top of the display case. He pulled out a vial filled with an absinthe-colored liquid, which he handed to Chise.
“I'm not afraid of you…”
“You should.”
“I know”
Chise knew Elias didn't believe her, but she meant it. She'd seen the whole scene and knew it was Lindel's impulse he'd obeyed, not his own. Chise wasn't worried; Elias had already proven to her time and time again that he would never hurt her.
She went back to her remedies without delay, aware that she was already late.The potion was going well, but her focus was gone. Again and again, her mind replayed the terrible images she had just seen. She saw herself again in front of that scene of carnage, smelled again the iron of the muscle exposed to the air, biting as if she had been the beastherself the tender entrails offered at her mercy.
She too needed to feel acute pain, to exorcise the torture that invaded every corner of her brain. Unconciously, still in the grip of this nightmare, she grabbed the needle she used to sew herbal sachets and other talismans. When the metal tip penetrated the flesh of her finger, Chise let out a sigh of satisfaction. Since she was a little girl, she had been resistant to pain, but this was the first time she had found it so delicious. She watched, fascinated, as the drop of blood swelled on the surface of her skin and then, once it became too heavy, flowed down her finger. She was tempted to stop it by running her tongue over it, but instead let it run into her palm and then fall to the table. She put her thumb on the wound, breathed.
When she lifted her thumb, the wound had already closed.