Date: Sat, 31 Aug 2013 02:34:04 +0100 From: Enchanting Enchanter Subject: The Enchanter's Storybook: Chapter Twelve This is a fictional fantasy story with fictional characters, creatures, and places. If you are underaged, leave. Please note that this will include same-sex romantic aspects. I hope you enjoy. Now to start the tale: The Enchanter's Storybook: Chapter Twelve: The witch capital city of Purgador was much more exquisite than Marcus would have imagined. Resting in the very centre of the Witchlands, protected by the Wall of the Whispering Winds and Purgador's guild of advanced sorcerers, the capital of the Witchlands was impregnable as a fortress, elegant as a palace, and magical beyond means. To get to Purgador safely and easily, Varia, Darius, Daisy and little Marcus had to walk the length of the troll country and reach the borders of the Trollsturf and start their journey up the Witchroad, a road that spanned over all of the Witchlands. The road itself, or so Varia told, was safe and secure, showing the way for all witches should they be lost. When the four of them found the road, they followed its cobbled path for days on end. Walking, walking, walking. Through hills and farms and orchards, passed ryes and forests and bogs. They stood on a hill, with the sun setting to a plushy, bleeding red. That was where they caught the first sight of Purgador. At first, it seemed just a glassy lilac tower that shimmered in the light of the sun, but the closer they got to the city, the more they saw. The tower was part of the great Lilac Palace, the home of the three Witch Queens and the seat of the Purgadorian Witchguild. Surrounding the palace of pink glass was the city itself, a collection of endless streets cluttered with metallic, pale-washed buildings of crude colour. They finally reached the Wall of the Whispering Winds by midnight, with the stars glistening above and moon shining ominously down, watching. "Guardsman, draw open the portcullis!" Varia screamed at the gatehouse tower of pale grey stone. "By order of who?" A voice replied in the same wispy, foreign accent of Varia. "Lady Varia von Vieske of the Purgadorian Witchguild, Bloodwielder and personal friend to all three queens. Agaarveim dulougne." Those words must have been a secret code to the guardsman, for once she had said it , they began to open the gate. It screamed open in a rusty protest, yet opened all the same, and the four of their entourage entered the city. They followed the Street of Silver, a street with every building painted a glimmering silver. Varia then turned and took them down the Grove of Gold, a grove of golden painted houses, and through the Alley of Iron. Through streets of red and yellow and green and black, they walked, until all that stood before them was a great glassy tower of lilac. Varia was allowed passage easily, whispering the same words, with the three following her timidly into the lilac castle. Marcus was slightly scared at first, to be a human in a strange place like this. But then he remembered something bitterly. He couldn't be harmed. He was immortal. "This way, honeys," Varia said sweetly, taking them through a hallway of decorated stone walls and lilac carpeted floors. "Why?" Darius asked scornfully. "Why have you brought us here, witch?" "I promised to travel with you, but first I must meet my master, the lady Grisella Grindelwaahld." Darius smirked at that. "You have a master? You're a slave!" "No!" Varia screamed, "Lady Grindelwaahld is the commander of the Witchguild and Purgador's army. She commands witch armies and recruits only the best witches for the Witchguild here in Purgador. Like me. She is very powerful and you should feel lucky that you get to even look at her, Darren." "My name is Darius!" "And mine is Varia." Inside of the lilac walled castle, they followed the stoney hallway deep into the palace. They climbed a great stairwell and down another hallway, through a great hall and into a great stone room stacked high with books. It was a library of sorts, the biggest that Marcus had ever seen, with endless high walls stacked with books and tomes and yellowed scrolls. In the centre of the room rested a huge, brown desk that seated a peculiar woman. Old, wrinkled, with grey-blonde hair and pallid blue eyes, she smoked a long black stick that wisped grey thick smoke into the air. "Varia, you return. And with a litter of children... human children. How did the task go?" she grumbled blackly. "Pristinely." The old woman stood, wobbling and weak, sucking on her smoky cigarette, and eyed Daisy curiously. "This girl... I sense her darkness. Magic has tainted the humans, then, I see?" "Yes." Then the old woman's eyes fell upon Marcus, and she almost dropped to the floor. "This boy!" She pointed a long finger at him, dubiously. She strolled toward him and placed her cold, pasty hands on his face and his heart, through his wispy blond hair and over his new blue eyes. "This is Marcus Mallow, Lady Griselle," Varia told her. "His darkness is... it is not darkness... why, it is pure blackness. This boy is... almost too powerful. But never mind that. Varia, why have you brought me children? You are dismissed, humans. Go. I would speak with Varia alone." "Where would they go, Griselle?" Varia asked her. "Guest chambers, I suppose. Karl, Wilhelm, show these three to the bath-house so they may bathe. I will not have dirty children soiling this castle. Then find them a room somewhere, anywhere really." Two men hidden behind steel armour escorted Marcus, Darius and Daisy out of the library room. They were taken higher and higher by Karl and Wilhelm, right into a room of steam. Across the floor was a gigantic marble bath, with pink waters steaming and filling the room with lavender. "You will clean yourselves here. Suitable clothing will be brought to you. Happy washing," Karl said, or Wilhelm, before both turned from the room and slammed the door shut. "All of us?" Marcus asked shyly and worriedly. He didn't like the idea of exposing himself in the nude. He feared what would happen... down there. That tinkling he had gotten before, whenever he saw Darius in his bare skin. What if it returned? "I guess so," Daisy said suddenly, dropping her brown dress and revealing herself. She climbed into the waters and sighed, relaxing. Darius shrugged then, and began stripping himself. His muscles flexed as he took off his shirt, showing off his perfectly tanned, slightly muscled chest. Marcus fluttered as Darius dropped his trousers, and then underwear, something arousing inside of him. He wiped it off at once and stripped before it became awkward, climbed in, and began washing. The water was warm and he was clean in minutes. Clothes were laid out by Karl or Wilhelm ten minutes or so later, so Daisy slipped out and changed, leaving the room in hope of finding a restroom. She was bleeding below, Marcus noticed, before she fled. A woman's monthly moonblood. Alone, Marcus tensed. He couldn't help but look at him... his wet black hair and his wet perfect body. His wet face and his wet everything. The tinkling came, and he felt suddenly aroused. Below the water, something grew, and Marcus blushed while trying to hide it. "You too then?" Darius asked, looking at Marcus's groin. When he looked at Darius's, he saw a six inch beige pole that grew even longer every second. He blushed again, smiling timidly. Darius suddenly splashed water, and then was sitting right beside Marcus. Shy, Marcus covered his privates with his hands. "You don't need to," Darius said, reaching under the water to lift his hands away from it. Darius smiled so heartily, so simmeringly sexily, Marcus could wait no longer. Standing up, he turned directly in front of him, and splashed water in his face. Distracting him, he sat on Darius's lap, grabbed his wrists and restrained him, and brought their lips to meet in a soft, sweet kiss. Darius protested at first, but submissed eventually. When they broke apart, Darius muttered, "You won," and kissed him a second time. They dressed after they were clean, before they were shown to their bedchamber for the night. The three of them shared a bed, that night. As they fell asleep, Darius cuddled him warmly, the heat from his body washing over Marcus. They spooned all of that night, with Darius protecting him even in slumber, and neither even spoke of their kiss. That was The Enchanter's Storybook: Chapter Twelve. Notice: Last week, I said a battle would ensue. Well, it was more of a wrestle or fight, but did you like it? Thank you for reading. Please use this email to reach me with ideas, questions, or remind me to post a chapter. Even the Enchanter forgets, my little kittens. *Stuffs Storybook under my arms, grunting, grimacing at you for trying to sneak a peak at next week. Ooo, rhymes.* Have a wondrous day, filled with romantic moments like these. Your sinner of a spellcaster, your most favoured storyteller, your most snobby and posh-sounding British friend, your most secret admirer, The Enchanter. P.S. Did you get the love letter I sent? It's labeled "From your secret admirer, have an enchantig day!" If you haven't, then I'm afraid an airkiss will have to do. *Blows airkiss at you, and winks* Bye now! Next week, we shall see what becomes of the kiss. Yes we shall, yes we shall.