By Wes Leigh
This is a work of wild fantasy intended solely for the
entertainment of my readers; any resemblance to any real people or places is
purely coincidental. This story involves romance and sex between adult men as
well as between men and teens and preteens, some incestual. If you are
uncomfortable with any of this, please choose another story. This story is the
property of the author and is protected by copyright laws. The author retains
all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent.
Readers who would like to chat are encouraged to
contact me at weston.leigh@protonmail.com.
If you enjoy this story, please support the Nifty
archives today with a thoughtful donation by visiting https://donate.nifty.org/.
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Tel' Feywild sume
lor va. Kar va hin'lo?
The Feywild calls to you. Do you hear it?
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As I walked down the
hallway the next morning, I overhead Trace talking to Drew in his bedroom. I
didn't mean to eavesdrop on their conversation, but the door was open and they
weren't trying to be discrete.
"When do we leave?"
Drew asked.
"This afternoon," Trace
replied.
"Then there's no point
in going to school today, is there?"
"No. And I won't be
going to swim practice tonight."
"But I was having fun
here."
"It's not about you,
Drew. Are you forgetting the reason we're here?"
Drew sighed and
grumbled, "I still don't want to go yet."
"I don't either. But
it's not our decision."
"I know that, Trace,
but I can't help how I feel."
What on earth were the
boys talking about? Why did they have to leave? Where were they going?
I turned and walked the
other direction, confused and concerned.
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Rick didn't take the
boys to school that day, which wasn't a surprise to me after the conversation
I'd overheard, but his explanation was vague.
"We have something we
need to do today," Rick explained. "As a family."
Drew and Trace ducked
their heads, refusing to look up. Figment didn't seem to be paying attention;
he was focused on a notepad where he was sketching a forest with mountains
rising in the background. A unicorn pranced in the foreground with children
dancing around it.
"Anything I can help
with?" I asked.
Rick moved to the couch
and placed his hands on Drew's and Trace's shoulders. "No. The boys know what
to do. I've trained them well."
Drew frowned and
pouted.
Trace looked up at me,
his eyes sad. He seemed resigned to his fate.
Figment finally looked
up and turned his drawing around to show it to me. "This is what the Feywild is
like," he said. "Beautiful. Magical. Wonderful. What do you think, Caleb?"
I sat down next to
Figment and took the drawing, wondering if it was the last picture
I'd see the little guy sketch. "It's beautiful, Figment. The unicorn looks
happy."
"He is," Figment
replied, "because he has fey elf children to play with. They never hurt the
unicorns, not like the evil banshees."
"Are banshees a problem
in the Feywild?" I asked.
"They can be," Figment
replied. "When they howl, it hurts down to your bones, and the banshees love to
catch a unicorn by itself. They attack in packs, and they're very dangerous."
I wrapped my arms
around Figment, wondering if Rick was taking him away from me and I'd never
hear his wild fantasies again. He leaned back against me, enjoying my hug,
completely comfortable in my arms.
I noticed a tall figure
on one side of the drawing, watching the young elves dancing with the unicorn.
"Who's that?" I asked. "Why isn't he playing with the unicorn too?"
Figment turned and
looked up at me, a wistful smile on his face. "That's you. You're watching
them, wondering if you should join them."
"Do they want me to be
a part of their fun? Won't the unicorn be frightened away by an adult?"
"No, silly," Figment
replied. "The unicorn knows he can trust you."
"How could he know
that? I might be a banshee in disguise."
Figment giggled and
pointed to one of the fey elf children twirling around the unicorn. "The
unicorn knows you aren't a banshee, because the prince here told him. The
prince said you were a good man who was now living in the Feywild with the
royal family, so the unicorn isn't afraid of you."
"With such a long horn,
I'm more afraid of him."
Figment giggled.
Drew snorted, grabbing
his crotch and squeezing it.
Trace rolled his eyes
and punched Drew on the leg, making Drew jump and glare at Trace.
"Boys!" Rick said,
raising his eyebrows. "Settle down."
Figment shook his head
at his brothers and said, "Fey elves know better than to play with a unicorn's
horn. They might get poked."
Drew struggled not to
laugh, scrunching up his face. Even Trace had to smile.
Rick stood up and said,
"We'd better start getting ready, boys."
Drew's goofy mood
immediately vanished, and Trace sighed, standing up next to his dad.
"Go on," Rick said.
"Get everything prepared."
Trace held out his hand
to Figment, who took it and allowed his big brother to pull him to his feet. Together,
all three boys headed for the back of the house.
I looked at Rick and
pleaded, "Rick, please tell me what's going on."
Rick blew out his
breath. He started to speak, stopped, then started again. "It's complicated,
Caleb. You'll have to trust me for now, but I hope you make the right choice
when the time comes."
"The right choice? What
are you talking about, Rick?"
"I can't say anything
more at the moment. It's not permitted."
"But I don't
understand, Rick. What's this all about?"
Rick sat down next to
me, wiping his eyes with his hand. "All I can tell you is that we've reached
the point where it's time to move on, and I hope we've helped you to decide
that it would be good for you to go too."
"Go where, Rick?"
He turned and stared
intently into my eyes. "I want you to understand one thing, Caleb. Everything
that has happened up until now has led to this moment in time."
Rick stood up and
hurried out of the room, leaving me more confused than ever.
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I walked outside,
hoping the crisp air would clear my muddled thoughts.
They weren't my family,
not really, but I had come to think of them as such. I loved them all, with
their quirks and flaws and arguments and hugs.
I loved having them in
my home, eating meals and watching movies with them, playing D&D on Fridays
and having wild sex Friday night.
I loved having them
wrapped around me, naked, sleeping through the night.
I loved the sexual
free-for-alls ... Rick's gentle lovemaking ... Trace's lustful screwing ... Drew's
playful exploration ... Figment's tender passion.
And now, for reasons I
couldn't fathom, they were apparently leaving. No explanation. No hint of what
I'd done wrong. Maybe it wasn't me. Maybe Rick's past was catching up to him,
and he had to run again.
Damn.
I almost wished I'd
never called and invited him to play D&D with us. If I'd never met him and
fallen hopelessly in love with him and his boys, I wouldn't be sitting on my
back porch on a cold winter's day, feeling my heart tear itself in two.
I truly felt like one
of Figment's winter fey elves. Frozen emotionally. Bitter. Cold. Wanting to
stop feeling, because it hurt to feel anything at all.
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Lunch was a somber
affair.
Figment stayed in our
bedroom, refusing to come out.
The rest of us ate in
silence, unable to look each other in the eyes.
After we finished, Drew
and Trace washed the dishes quickly while Rick and I sipped our drinks. Then
the two boys silently marched out of the kitchen, headed for their rooms.
Rick sighed and said,
"It's almost time. Please remember everything I said this morning."
"About how it all leads
up to this moment?"
He nodded.
"When are you going to
explain what this moment is all about?" I asked.
"Soon," he replied,
standing up and heading for his bedroom.
I watched him go. Well,
if Rick wouldn't explain himself, maybe Trace and Drew would. I walked down the
hall to their bedrooms. They were standing next to Trace's bed, talking, not
trying to keep from being overheard.
"Are you ready, Drew?"
Trace asked.
"Yeah. Let's do this,"
Drew replied.
I knocked on the door
and stepped inside Trace's bedroom. I gulped and said, "Guys, ummm, I didn't
mean to snoop, but I overheard your conversation just now."
Trace nodded. "As you
were meant to do."
I frowned. "I don't
understand."
Drew walked slowly toward
me and took both my hands in his. "HE wanted you to hear this, because HE will
soon reveal everything to you, and this is simply how HE has decided to begin."
"What are you talking
about?" I asked, completely baffled now.
"It's time to end the
illusion," Trace explained, walking up next to Drew. Trace put his hand on my
shoulder and added, "It's time for you to decide. Will you go to the Feywild as
his eternal lover?"
Drew squeezed my hands
gently. "You've had weeks to get accustomed to the idea, Caleb. We've been
leading you, teaching you, preparing you."
Trace nodded, adding,
"Now the time has come, Caleb. The Feywild beckons."
I shook my head and
backed up a step, pulling away from them both. "Guys, please stop. No more
fantasies. No more wild talk."
"It isn't fantasy,"
Drew replied.
I scoffed. "Seriously?
I understand why you've been indulging Figment in all this, but at some point,
we all have to help him to accept what happened and stop all the daydreams
about the Feywild."
They began walking toward
me, shaking their heads sadly. Trace sighed and said, "Right now, we have to
help you to accept what is going to happen and to start believing that the
Feywild is not a whimsical fantasy."
I backed slowly out
into the hallway. "I don't get it. Trace, Drew, why are you going along with
this?" I backed into the wall, bumping a picture and jarring it loose behind
me.
"We have no choice,"
Drew replied. "We're also a part of the fantasy. We must do what he commands,
for he is a true Eladrin, a powerful illusionist, who formed each of us to
serve him here in your land."
Trace nodded. "We don't
belong here, any more than he does. He has decided to end the illusion and
dispel us, for we are no longer needed. Then he will take you back with him to
the Feywild. That has been his plan all along."
I gulped. "You guys are
starting to scare me. It's one thing to go along with Figment's stories; it's
another thing altogether to buy into them. I hope this is all some kind of elaborate
joke. Another one of your pranks, Drew, and Trace is helping you."
Rick came out of his
bedroom and stood next to me. "No, Caleb, it isn't a prank or a joke. The boys
have told you the truth. You are beloved, and all that has occurred here, in
your world, has been designed to make you love the Eladrin and want to live in
their world."
I laughed bitterly.
"Rick, I can't believe you would be a part of this ... whatever THIS is. What are
you guys doing?"
Rick shook his head
sadly. "We're simply telling you the truth, Caleb, because the time has come
for you to know the truth."
"Really?" I jeered.
"The truth? That you are an Eladrin from the Feywild, who came to my world for
me, and you're also a master illusionist who crafted a magical mirage of three
sons, all designed to draw me in and make me want to love you and live with you
in some alternate plane of existence?"
Rick shook his head.
"Some of what you say is correct, but there are a few things you've
misunderstood."
"Oh, really? Which
parts?"
"I'm not the
illusionist," Rick replied. "I'm one of the illusions."
"Okay," I replied with
a laugh. "You and Drew and Trace are all illusions? Then who is this master magician
that created all of you?"
They all three stared
at me, slightly amused expressions on their faces, as though they were
tolerating my lack of understanding.
"You haven't guessed?"
Rick asked.
I shook my head.
"Who could it be?"
Trace asked.
"Yes. Who isn't here?"
asked Drew.
I looked at each of
them. They seemed completely serious. I sighed and said, "So you're saying it's
Figment?"
Rick and Trace nodded. Drew
grinned and said, "We're all figments of Figment's imagination."
I shook my head quickly
from side to side. "Okay. Okay, guys. So for the sake
of argument, I'll go along with what you're telling me. I just have one
question ... if this is all some elaborate illusion Figment created, why would he
want me to know? Why would he have you—his illusions—expose the truth about you
being nothing but `figments of his imagination'?"
Rick answered my
question with a question. "What choice would we have, since Figment controls
everything we do?"
"That doesn't make any
sense!" I exclaimed. "If you're simply illusions, under his control, wouldn't
he want me to stay in the dark?"
Trace smirked and
replied, "There's only one possible explanation."
Drew nodded. "Only one
reason for Figment to use us to tell you all this."
Rick leaned in and
kissed me gently on the cheek. "The time has come for us to go. Figment is
going to dismiss us now that we've served our purpose."
"What do you mean by
that?"
Rick kissed me again. "Don't
you see, Caleb? Figment created each of us to teach you an important lesson you
needed to know before you could choose to enter the Feywild. My job was to show
you that you are still loveable. You were struggling to accept your own value,
and I showed you that I needed and wanted you as a companion."
Trace grabbed my crotch
and squeezed it, grinning at me. "I showed you that you are still vigorous. I
taught you that your age can't hold you back from enjoying all life has to
offer."
Drew poked me in the
ribs. "And I showed you that you are young at heart. I reminded you of the joy
there should be in every moment."
Rick turned my face
towards his and added, "He created each of us to bring you out of your winter
shell and experience life again, and now our purpose is done."
I was still struggling
to believe what they were telling me. "Are you saying that none of you are
real? You're all simply magical images that Figment created."
Rick shook his head. "Oh,
no. We're real, but we don't exist here. The real us, the living,
breathing models Figment used when he created us, live in the Feywild."
"And now, I no longer
need the illusions."
I turned and saw
Figment standing at the end of the hallway, slowly weaving his fingers in a
complex pattern, in and out, over and under. He tilted his head to one side and
stopped his fingers in mid-gesture. Rick, Drew, and Trace faded away, leaving
just Figment and myself.
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I sat on the couch with
Figment next to me. I had to think. To process everything the guys had been
telling me ... or was it simply Figment's words in their mouths before they
disappeared? I decided I must be having another breakdown. There was no other
explanation.
"You aren't breaking
down," Figment stated.
I laughed bitterly. "So
now you can read my mind too? Is that another power of the Eladrin?"
"No," he replied, "but I
can well imagine what you must be thinking right now."
I leaned back in the
couch and covered my eyes with one arm. "I can't believe any of this."
"It's all true,"
Figment insisted. "I told you I'm a fey elf. I came here for you. I chose you
to be my lover, and now I want you to return to the Feywild with me."
"Do I have any choice?"
"Of course, you do. I
can command my illusions to do whatever I want, but you're no illusion. I can't
force you to do anything. All I can do is ask and hope you'll agree. The only
way for you to return with me is for you to WANT to go."
I uncovered my eyes and
stared at Figment. His face was calm and serene, with no sign that any of what
he was saying was a little boy's delusion or a masterful web of lies or the
ultimate practical joke. He smiled tentatively and said, "I'm not a
ten-year-old boy, Caleb. I'm a young fey elf who's seen almost as many years
pass by as you have. But I think you've known that all along."
"It's all been an intricate
illusion?" I asked, resigned at last to believe what Figment had been telling
me.
"Yes, even the ears."
He pointed at his ears and wiggled his fingers. The air seemed to shimmer and
where round, little boy ears had been, now I saw elegantly pointed elven ears.
I began shaking uncontrollably.
It simply couldn't be true, but I believed him. I believed all of it, even the
part about Figment wanting me as his fey lover. I tried to stop my legs from
jumping, pressing down on my knees, but they refused to obey me. They kept
shaking.
I thought about all he
was saying and began to get frustrated and angry. "Really? You want me to come
with you to another land, a place that is the fabric of fantasy, leaving
everything I've ever known behind?" I sat up and squinted at Figment. "And if
everything I've seen is real, you want me to do this after you've spent the
last few months manipulating my emotions, filling my mind with illusions, and
making me believe I was loved by a wonderful family that I wanted with all my
heart to be a part of?" My words seemed to batter Figment, and I didn't want
them to sound as harsh and hateful as they did, but I was angry. And
justifiably so. He had tricked me, and now he simply expected me to forget all
that and go with him to the Feywild? Amazing!
Figment stared back at
me, his eyes slowly filling with tears. He blinked and tears flowed down his
cheeks. Nodding, he said, "I do want you
to go with me, and I'm sorry about what I've done." He gasped and sobbed, "But
don't you see, Caleb. I did it all for you."
"For me?"
"Yes. I didn't know any
other way to help you."
"You think were helping
me?"
"Yes. You were stuck in
your Winter. Somehow, someway, I had to break you free. This was the only way I
could see to help you find the Springtime that was locked away in your soul."
He burst into tears and dropped his head into his lap, sobbing and shaking.
Well, shit.
I reached out and
touched his shoulder, gently rubbing at first, and when he didn't respond, I
grabbed him and lifted him up, pulling him to my chest and hugging him. I let him cry, soaking my shirt with his
tears. Kissing him tenderly on the cheek, I stroked his back and sides until he
calmed down and stopped crying.
Figment pushed back and
sniffled, then took my face in his small hands, puckered his lips, leaned in,
and kissed me tenderly. "Can you forgive me?" he whispered.
I nodded. And with that
admission, my heart stopped pounding, and my anger and fears and frustrations were
pushed aside for the moment. I pulled him in again and kissed him tenderly,
lovingly.
He pushed back with a
smile and asked, "Caleb Malcolm, will you be my fey lover? Will you return with
me to the Feywild? My family will love you. I know they will. As much as I love
you."
The mention of his
family made me pause and think about what I had just been so readily
considering. What about his family? Would they be like Rick and Trace and Drew?
Would they accept me into their world, welcoming me as Figment had promised.
And did I really want
to trust him now? He looked like an anxious little boy, an innocent
ten-year-old, who longed to have me join him in the ultimate fantasy, living
out my life in a land of make-believe. Crazy as it sounded, I was actually
considering it. But I was also thinking about how Figment had manipulated me
with his illusions, playing with my emotions. No matter how he tried to make it
seem that he was doing it for my good, it still felt wrong, immoral somehow.
He waited for my
answer. His eyes were bright, shining a deeper green than I ever remembered
them being before.
I wanted to say yes. I
knew Figment yearned to hear that answer. He was shivering slightly, waiting
for me to speak.
The air around Figment
shimmered. Rolling thunder shook the room, making the windows rattle. Figment
looked around, alarmed, and shouted, "No, not yet. I wasn't finished. Just a
few more minutes."
I heard a low,
rumbling, sonorous voice that resonated deep in my bones, making my teeth ache
and my skull itch. The voice spoke, "Cease your play, child, and come eat."
Figment jumped out of
my arms and ran into the middle of the room, staring up at the ceiling in a
panic. "But I'm not done, Father. Please—"
The voice was gentle,
but firm. "You will have time to finish later, dear boy. Your brothers and I
are at table, and we wait for you before we begin to sup."
Figment held his hands
before his face, pleading. "Please, Father. Just a few minutes more."
The air reverberated
with a thunderclap that made me grab at my ears. Where Figment had been was
empty space. He was gone.
The end of Chapter Eleven of FIGMENT