Drulissa's Domain

The warm morning light across my breasts created a valley of shadow between them, mirroring the darkness in my heart. It lay like a heavy stone there, and I was chained to its place by the insupportable memory of him who had left me alone beneath that bitter winter sky . Yet my heart longed for his touch and presence. His warmth filled my soul with an inextinguishable fire, while he, so far away, existed only as one out of many vague remembrances of all those whom I had ever known — a cluster of old fancies garnered from this world's storehouse and brought forth again into life — not fresh, but frost-bitten and changeful. Fancies which I remember the best times of my life with, of which I cling to like a handful of dried and withered flowers. As some frail relics we prize because they have been dear to us in our youth, though now worthless, so do I cling to these remembrances of my earlier days, as if their beauty were unspent and might blossom again under happier skies. ...

 She walked across the desert for hours, away from the battle. The sun fell below the horizon, and she saw the stars above her in the clear sky, reminding her that the stars would always shine bright in the night sky. And she would always be beneath them. It was dark when she finally saw the outline of a mountain ahead of her in the distance. Above the mountain hung the moon in all its glory . "I've seen many things," she whispered into the night. She felt the sand beneath her feet. " I should have been a better person and have many regrets." The stars above her and the moon shining down on her. "But I cannot lie to you, Fayla. I have never loved anyone as I love you. You are the most beautiful woman in the world. I would have asked you to marry me if you hadn't been killed today." She looked up at the moon again and felt the tears welling up in her eyes. She kept climbing the mountain. "You were my soulmate. And you will alw...

 Burning embers hung in the air as she walked toward her father. She carried her spear in her hand. "What are you doing, Amelia?" Her father asked, holding his sword in his hand, the blade pointed to the ground. " What a re you no w, some primitive savage? Look at you! You look stupid, dressed like some slutty warrior whore! " She s wal lowed. He jumped off the platform. "You are not even my daughter anymore, are you? You have probably let those filthy heathens touch you! You should know it stains your skin if you lie in the dirt . " Amelia kept silent, feeling the magic flow through her, and knowing what needed to be done. "Do you see this?" he asked, holding his sword. "This is the blade that took a dragon's life! And one day, it will take another's. I am the one who will destroy the Mal'a'kai tribe. And since you did the job of killing the death cult, I will take over this miserable country. Perhaps once the...

 She didn't even feel like herself anymore. Was this what it felt like to go to war? To turn into a killer? To step onto a battlefield with a weapon, knowing you will not step off unless carried, or the last enemy breathes their last breath? She ran her hand along the scales of Sapphire, her love Fayla following close behind. The Goddess Kayala blessed her with a warrior's spirit, and she felt the power surge within her. For a moment, she felt she did nothing to deserve such power, but a gentle touch of the Goddess' grace told her all she needed to know. Every sacrifice she made built to this point. He r finding the Genie, running from the Death Cult, meeting the tribe, choosing her new life, and rejecting her father were all footsteps laid for her in this path walked by the Goddess. One she was meant to follow. She saw the entire war in her mind's eye, and her heart raced at the thought of battle. Her mind whirled with visions of all she would do to her fa...

“I hate Frostfell!” my father would say when the season arrived. “I hate it! I loathe it! I wish it never existed!” This was back when I was a little tyke, barely above the knee, and I would run to the railing in my jammies to peek through, wondering what he was so angry about. At that time, I never knew what Frostfell was, it was something outsiders celebrated, and I knew it came when the caves turned cold, and ice formed on the water. It was hard for me to imagine when my father was happy. A time before he became the devil in hi s h ea rt. “All this Frostfell, with the songs, the merriment, and the giving!” He would rant, and I would peer down at the foyer as he raged at the servants and his wives . The serving maids would have their heads bowed low, afraid of what might happen if they glanced up at him. Some of his other wives, who had not yet had children, would flee to the kitchens to avoid his wrath. He would lock himself in his den , sometimes for days . This time, he s...

Her body ached for a touch, the night upon her naked skin. She wanted to cry out in anguish, but no one was near to hear ,  so she suffered as she lay beneath the cool coverlet of the bed. She thought that perhaps he had not come yet—the man who should have been with her this hour before —but only fancy took shape between sleep's dark curtains , while on every side brooded silence deep as death itself could make it. And now came soft sounds through the room like low tones of music from an unseen orchestra. Their coming sweetened her dreams , and her slumber grew lighter at its approach. She rolled across the white sheets of her bed, her nude dark elven skin caressing the sheets beneath her. She rolled into a stark patch of moonlight that shared her bed and let the light make love to her flesh. Her bare breasts were full and rounded under the moon, making two perfect spheres that reflected the silvery beams onto each other. The nipples puckered slightly, betraying how arouse...

Amelia stood in the gallery watching as her father spoke with the men from the Death Cult. They wore black robes with hoods that covered their heads and faces. In front of her father was a tall, lean, muscular man with short white hair facing him. She watched the man's hands for a long moment when she realized he was holding a dagger. "Do you see?" the head priestess asked. Amelia turned to her in confusion. The head priestess smiled sadly. "He will attack us first. He will use the men from the Death Cult while his army attacks the temple. Then, he will loot our home and burn it." Amelia looked back at the scene below her and felt a pit in her stomach grow deeper. She felt the anger growing inside her, but she couldn't stop it. The head priestess put her hand on Amelia's shoulder and sighed. "It is time to go. The attack will begin soon." "I want to lead it," Amelia said. "I am done with being weak." Amelia t...