The War God's Wife

Chapter 5: Aura

Thus began my routine.  In the early morning, I would rise, train with Lightning and Thunder, and exercise my body till the sun had fully risen.  After breakfast, I would throw myself at the life-stealer, scarf down a quick lunch, and then make a couple more attempts in the afternoon.  After that, I decided to spend some time doing actually helpful things for the mortal, such as help tend their garden of herbs and vegetables, hunt some game with the small, recurve bow that Lyterias had pulled from the shed out back, or assist them in his Raven practices.

It turned out that Calliena was right:  although Lyterias was a scowling scoundrel, he was definitely a more than capable healer.  Every so often, villagers would trek up the trail from the village in the valley below to ask for healing of some ailment.  Some, he muttered focus chants to cast dark green energy over their injuries, making them vanish almost instantly.  Others he wrapped packs of slimy poultices with white, linen bandages.  A few weren't even sick; they simply came for him to check their bodies over for any lingering or returning illness.  To one he gave a jar of dark purple sludge.  To another he gave a vial of pale pink liquid.  All thanked him warmly (to which he seemed to bark and grumble at) and paid him in Almeasuran coin, the stamp of crown and sword clear in the copper and silver.  Though it felt like pulling my own teeth out, I had to admit that he was certainly a good healer and worthy of the Raven Guild.

My real issue, though, was that, despite my near daily attempts, I was no closer to moving the life-stealer than when I had first arrived.  I could feel my strength returning:  my wound no longer ached as much, physically I was just as powerful as before that cowardly black mage had struck me.  Yet still the stupid rock stayed on the stupid ground, leaving me to puke my stupid guts up about every third try.  I must also be stupid because I still tried every, single, stupid day.

It happened about a week after I arrived.  I had just finished my second attempt at moving the life-stealer and was flopped on the ground, panting and weak.  Before my eyes, I could see the pale blue strings of my energy still whispering away into the bottomless abyss of the boulder.  I felt my brain snap, and I willed the energy to return.  The wisp froze, trembled for a moment, and then slowly crawled back to me.  I blinked in surprise, and, the moment my concentration failed, the energy slipped out and fluttered to the rock.  I stared after the non-existent thread, my mind racing.  What in the name of storm and fury was that?!  The life-stealer can be overruled?  Why had I never heard of such a thing?  Though, who has lived long enough or tried hard enough to really test against it?  I ran a hand through my hair, playing with the end of a lock as I thought.  This warranted deeper investigation.  Standing, I moved out of the yard and slipped inside the house.

"Back already, Tel'mak?"  she called.  "Lunch isn't ready yet.  You'll have to wait another hour or so."

"Quite alright, dear," I called back.  Lyterias growled at the endearment, but I ignored him, focusing instead on my energy.  Even away from the pull of the life-stealer, it still vented off of me, rising like pale blue steam from me before dissipating into the air.  I furrowed my brow in concentration.  Slowly, the steam condensed a little.  I felt a tremor in my Well.  It felt . . . fuller?  I pulled more, gritting my teeth.  Now it was definitely condensing, becoming brighter and more visible.  Less was evaporating into the air.  I felt my Well tremble again.  I also felt a little bloated, like I'd eaten a bite too much.  I ignored the feeling and poured all my will into not letting a single scrap of energy leave.  The steam shrank to a thin, glowing outline that traced my entire being.  I felt my Well lurch and my stomach.  Without warning, I vomited all over the floor.

"TEL'MAK!!" Calliena screamed, dashing over to me in a heartbeat.

"Pox-ridden, flea-infested, putrid . . . !!"  Lyterias scrambled for a bucket and rag as he continued to shout curses.  I heaved again, the force of it sending me to all fours.  My Well heaved as well, and I felt the energy I had been holding in vent out like steam coming from a bucket of hot water thrown into snow.  Cool hands went to my face and leaned me back.  One hastily brushed my hair from my face while the other pressed against my forehead, checking my temperature.  A soft body pressed against me to hold a little of my weight against it.  I grabbed with my hand to hold onto the body as the world shifted.

"You're warm, Tel'mak.  I think you may have a fe-Ver!"  I froze.  Instead of the firm flatness of a back or waist, my hand was sunk into the cloth-covered softness of a very plump, very squishy thing.  I opened my eyes to look down into the crimson face of Calliena, blushing all the way down her neck to her collarbone, her mouth parted in complete, stunned surprise.

By the Seven Moons!! I'm grabbing her ass!!!

As soon as I thought it, my hand squeezed, as if by instinct.

Calliena gasped, her mouth falling open as her entire body twitched from the sudden contact.  The sound was a mix of a gasp with a squeak of surprise at the end and was completely cute.  Her hands instantly clamped onto my shoulders, the nails digging lightly into my skin.  The new contact grabbed my attention, and my eyes darted to hers.  I opened my mouth to say something:  an apology, an excuse, something, anything!  But no sound came from me.  For a moment, we were locked like that, my hand firmly gripping one luscious cheek, her hands on my muscled shoulder, eyes locked, mouths open, breath held.

Then I ripped my offending hand off her so fast and hard that I slammed it into the bedframe with an enormous BANG!!  I swore viciously as lightning pain shot down my arm and up my shoulder.  Calliena was off me and examining my bandaged hand in the blink of an eye.

". . . can't do more 'n eat, puke, 'n eat again!"  Lyterias stomped back in and plopped down a bucket of water next to me.  He glanced between us, and I felt Calliena fidgeting nervously with my bandage.  I winced as warmth ran through the back of my hand.  I had definitely opened some of the wounds.

"Clean it up!"  he snapped.

"Sorry," I mumbled.  He flinched, shock flitting on his face.  He stared at me for a moment, looking unsure about what to do with my apology, before he stomped over to the kitchen to look over the food, muttering under his breath again.  I glanced over to Calliena, who was gently unwrapping the now-soaked bandage.

"And I must say I'm sorry to you too," I said quietly.  As clarity finally returned, a flood of shame swamped my head, and my mouth filled with bile.  The desire to vomit returned as well.  What in the name of fire and thunder had I done?!  I had groped her!  Even after I had told Lyterias I would squash her little romance!  I was the Second Tel'mak, greatest warrior in Ultima, paragon of honor and such!  Yet here I was grabbing some mortal girl's bottom like some touch-starved teen!  But it felt soooo nice, the voice in me sighed dreamily.  I promptly squashed it.  It didn't matter that her butt had been soft and heavenly and that my hand could still feel a ghost of the sensation through the throbbing pain; the fact was that I had no right to be fondling this girl.

"Ye don't have to apologize."  The whispered squeak broke me out of my spiraling thoughts.  Calliena patted my newly bandaged hand gently, still blushing heavily.  "I didn' mind."  My heart hammered in my chest, and I suddenly became acutely aware of the blood flowing throughout my entire body.  Oh sweet wind and rain, she really does have a crush on me.  I swallowed hard.

I had to tell her.  I had to stop her before it went any further than this.  Tel'maks did not fall in love; we gave out little bits of it when we needed it.  We have flings, one night stays.  Enough to clear the webs from our heads and keep us focused.  We did not have romances.  Flashes of memories that I had already seen a week earlier returned, reminding me with every haunting glimpse why I needed to tell this beautiful, sweet, kind, fiery . . . passionate . . . .

"It was still ungentlemanly of me," I said hoarsely, taking the rag with other hand and dunking it in the bucket's warm water.  "Forgive me?"  She gave me a reassuring smile instantly, which made my heart sour more.

"It'll be our secret," she promised me, readjusting her skirt and speech as she stood.  She gave me a teasing wink before walking back over to the kitchen to take over for Lyterias.  My gaze followed her bouncing bottom the whole way.

Storms wreck me, I'm such a coward.