forum Private with Serpentess

Started February 11, 2022 by @emilyevewrites group

tune

Mardicos watched her, satisfied that she was taking a break. He then started to stand, favoring his hind leg. He could feel it again, thankfully, but it was too tender to put much weight on it. His side throbbed, but it was a considerable improvement.

He settled back down, then looked at the woman, meeting her stern gaze with one of his own. It wasn’t hard to hold his ground, even in his current state, but he honestly held no hostility toward her. He then turned away, tapping a spot next to him for her to sit. After a few more moments of watching her, he started to groom, cleaning the blood from his dense fur.

Farah slowly complied, sinking to the ground he had designated for her. Tentatively, she reached out and ran her fingers through his fur gently. Though she didn't expel any more magic through the touch, she did hope that the calming aura that surrounded her would extend to him. After a few moments of silence between them, she spoke again in a quiet murmur. "You're quite magnificent."

Mardicos tensed a bit when she touched him, but slowly relaxed. It confused him a bit. Something about her was so soothing. He suspected magic, but he wasn’t sure. He had always been drawn to witches, despite his hatred for them. Maybe… no, best not to think about that. Best just to enjoy this woman’s company while he could.

He stopped grooming when she spoke and he lifted his head slightly. Had anyone ever called him that before? He snorted, as if dismissing her words, then returned to grooming. One other person had called him that. Just one. And thinking of her was painful.

Farah quickly picked up on many of his small movements and noises, especially how he seemed to brush her comment off like it was nothing. She pursed her lips, but she didn't say anything for the time being. Instead, she kept stroking his fur and pushing her calming aura towards him and humming softly, waiting for the Sun to come up.

Mardicos continued to groom, eventually cleaning off the blood. He then rested his head against the woman, closing his eyes and relaxing. It was nice to have some peaceful attention for once, and he found that he actually liked being petted.

After some time, dawn finally arrived. Mardicos awoke from a doze and stood, limping away. He didn’t like being around others when he morphed, and it didn’t help that his clothes were a good walk away. Before he disappeared into the trees, he looked back at the woman, and a part of him hoped she would stay there.

After the wolf rested his head on her, Farah nearly fell asleep on him. However, just as the dawn broke, the wolf rose to his feet, and Farah blinked herself out of her near-sleep haze. She stood quickly after him and watched him walk away. When he looked back at her, Farah felt her breath hitch. Did he want her to follow? She took a step toward him, tilting her head. "Do you want me to come with you?" she asked softly.

Mardicos had noticed the woman dozing off against him, and outwardly didn’t react. Though, he actually enjoyed every moment. He had almost fallen asleep with her, except for his ever-present sense of the moon waking him.

His ears perked up to better hear her, just picking up what she had said, and Mardicos barked at her. This one was much quieter than the first, softer and kinder. He then waved his paw, trying to signal her to stay where she was.

Mardicos then turned away and walked off, disappearing into the trees. As the sun rose, the full moon’s influence started to wane, and the pain of his morph was already starting.

Farah bit her lip and remained where she stood. The wolf padded off out of sight, likely to change back into whoever he was in human form. She sighed, all alone again. However, she was alone in nature, which was different than simply being alone. Glancing around and – thankfully – seeing no one, she extended her palm out and channeled a bit of her magic to form a glowing orb that hovered above her skin. She smiled softly, the light from the orb illuminating her features.

Mardicos moved as fast as he could toward the crevice where he had hidden his clothes. However, he hadn’t gotten far before his fur started to recede and his bones started to snap.

As he morphed, he repeatedly howled and shrieked, the sounds soon becoming screams and curses. He then sprawled on the ground, panting and nearly passing out. His leg was heavily bruised, and hurt like hell. Though, his side burned, and he was sure he was bleeding again.

Stubbornly, Mardicos rolled over and stumbled to his feet. He held his side, which was indeed bleeding, and limped onward. Occasionally, a whine escaped him.

Farah jerked her head up and curled her fingers into a fist. The light orb disappeared instantly, and she enhanced her senses to detect if anyone was coming. All she heard was a flurry of curse words, and she arched her eyebrows. Her wolf must've transformed back into his human form. Still, she didn't move from her spot, creating a small flame in her palm now and letting it weave and dance between her fingers.

Mardicos finally reached an old tree with an uplifted root. He gingerly reached under, finding his clothes and weapons, then cautiously pulled on his pants and tucked his dagger in the belt. However, he hesitated on pulling on his shirt when he saw the gashes on his side, and the bloody mess it had already made. He could deal with bruises, but bear scratches were fucking tenacious.

“Well, at least, I’ve got something on. She’s fucking lucky I was even in the mood for clothes today. Otherwise, I might have just said fuck it and morphed in front of her,”he mumbled to himself as he limped back toward the oak, carrying his shirt and using his axe as a cane. His words were a lie, but it was enough to vent his frustrations regarding his wounds and modesty.

When he finally got back to the tree, he was in a daze. Though, he knew this feeling. It always happened every morning after a night of roaming as a wolf. Always. Fuck, he was tired. Had he even slept at all in the past few days?

To announce himself, Mardicos simply tossed his axe into the root of a nearby tree. The axe’s head buried itself deep, hitting the root dead center. He then tossed his shirt over next to the axe.

“I thank you for your help, though I think my morph just now fucked it up. I fucking hate bears. Goddamn, do I hate them. Anyway, my name is Mardicos,”he said, his voice deep and resonating, but also soft, mellifluous.

He sat down against the great oak, staring up into the trees absently. He had lost quite a bit of his social skills over the centuries, but it didn’t really matter to him. What mattered was that he would walk away from this tree fully healed. And he was nowhere near that if the blood coating his side had anything to say about it.

Farah dispersed her flame instantly and very nearly used a terrifyingly powerful burst of magic against the man when he startled her with his axe. However, if there was one thing Farah Dowling had mastered in her life, it was control. She held back her abilities and relaxed her defensive stance after hearing the man thank her.

She cleared her throat and watched him sit. "You're welcome," she remarked quietly. Her eyes studied him, and she flushed a bit at seeing his exposed chest. But her gaze quickly moved beyond that to the open wounds on his skin. She approached him slowly and knelt beside him. "You're still bleeding. Would you like me to help you?" she asked. Her lithe fingers were ready, and she was beginning to channel the magic, just waiting to release it.

Mardicos noticed he had startled her and snorted. It was somewhat amusing how he could sneak up on others without even actually trying. He then saw her stance, just before she relaxed. Whoever she was, she was a foreigner. That defensive posture was far different from what he knew, though he himself was a foreigner. Her posture might simply be one trained in this area, nothing more. Maybe.

Hearing her response, he glanced over at her. She seemed to have an awful lot of self-control. That was good. Though, he figured she’d be a bit embarrassed by his shirtless state. What woman wouldn’t be in this situation? Even with narrow shoulders that seemed just slightly out of place, like they should’ve been much wider, those same shoulders were solid with muscle. And his chest and abdomen were sleek and toned, built just as much for speed as for sheer power. What woman wouldn’t want to spend hours staring at that?

Her question brought Mardicos back to reality. He sighed and nodded, shifting his arm a bit so it wasn’t in the way.

“That would be appreciated. My leg is still fucked as well, but, at least I can actually feel the damned thing,”he replied.

His thoughts wandered off again, back to his appearance for whatever reason. Why did witches do this to him? Why did they always make him long for their company? Why couldn’t they just leave him to his fate, instead of influencing it?

Pushing past those questions, he wondered what she would think of his scars. There was a dark one on his waist, the lone scratch that had cursed him, but it was currently buried under blood. Then the pair of marks on his shoulders, which she probably wouldn’t see. He didn’t like thinking about those two. Then the many others marking his body, outlining his entire skeleton. None of those were from battle. None ever were.

Farah avoided looking at his toned chest as she grew nearer, not giving him the satisfaction. Her hands hovered over the wounds, preparing her magic to heal them. Then, slowly, she began to notice his other scares. one by one, they stuck out to her against the rest of his skin, and each one she saw caused a new shiver to shoot through her. She traced her fingers gently over his skin, and her eyes turned from brown to silver-blue as she channeled her magic.

"Who did this to you?" Farah asked softly. The words left her before she could stop them, and quickly, she flushed pink. "I'm sorry, that was out of line," she apologized quickly, desperate to avoid his gaze even more.

Mardicos saw how she avoided looking at him, and chuckled drowsily. It was a good effort, but he had never met a witch that could resist long.

He then noticed the shivers, and wondered what she was seeing. Was it his wound? It wouldn’t surprise him if it was a harsh sight. Bears scratches had a tendency to be ugly by default.

The moment she touched him, he flinched and tensed. He took a deep breath to steady himself, repeating in his head that she wasn’t there to hurt him. He slowly calmed. Fuck, he wasn’t used to be touched anymore, and his sleepiness wasn’t helping.

The moment he heard the question, his eyes closed and his breathing became shaky. He trembled a bit, then took a deep breath to steady himself. He blinked open his moist eyes, nodding at her apology.

“I… I would rather not think about that,”he said, his voice very quiet. He stared off into space, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to pour out from him.

"Sorry," she apologized again, expertly manipulating her magic to heal his wounds, subtly healing a few of his scars as well. Her magic was powerful enough for it, and she had the control to keep it contained. "I don't know why I said that."

She noticed immediately how tense he was, and she incorporated a bit of magic to relax him as well. She could also feel the massive wave of emotions he was holding back. He thinks so much, and yet he says so little…

(You want to know something that is both funny and really neat? I found an old note earlier today, and discovered that Midnight Wolves are actually based in one of my already existing worlds. So, I don’t actually have to worldbuild that much, I just need to figure out the ancient history of the world, and incorporate Mardicos’ story into it, lol)

Mardicos took another deep breath and sighed shakily.

“It’s alright. I do have many scars, and… they’re all caused by the same thing. They’re the only scars that seem to linger…”he trailed off, studying the sensations of her magic.

He knew she was healing his wound, but there was something else too. It was strange, like a timy nagging weight had been lifted from his entire being. He continued to study her magic, and noticed that his skin seemed looser, healthier near his wound. It finally hit him. She had healed some of his scars!

He glanced at her, and, for the first time, noticed the difference in her eye color. As he stared at her, he was so caught up in his surprise at her power, and his interest in her eyes, that he didn’t even notice the tension fading from his body. Even his mind settled down, though it still shocked him that she had been able to heal scars that had never faded.

“Thank you,”he said quietly, those two words loaded with meaning. He was grateful for her help, her company, her unusual kindness… and for the sheer power at her fingertips. With her magic, he could finally be rid of a tormenting reminder of the woman, the conniving witch, that had cursed him, then shattered his heart.

"Well, not anymore," Farah murmured, smirking a bit with subdued pride. The expression covered up the fear she was feeling as her magic was being used to the extent of what she knew was safe. What was controllable. If she pushed any further, she was terrified of losing her direct channel, and her magic would become terrifyingly erratic.

She inhaled steadily and continued to work at the same pace, making sure not to push her magic too far. Within a few moments, his wound was sealed, his scars were gone, and she'd placed a calming aura around him to keep him at peace for at least a few more minutes.

Her silver-blue eyes met his and turned back to their natural brown as the use of her magic died down. "You're welcome," she murmured back with a curt nod. "Now, would you mind telling me how you got those scars? Because they weren't exactly… shall I say… natural."

Mardicos snorted at her words, then noticed the smell of fear coming off of her. What was she afraid of? Was she still wary of him, or was it something else? He didn’t question her though, not wanting to spook her.

Mardicos sat up a bit once she was done, breathing a sigh of relief. He then noticed that all of his scars were gone… or, almost. The scratch on his waist, the mark of the cursed claw that had changed him, still lingered. It always would as long as he remained alive, but it had faded somewhat, thankfully.

He looked back at the woman, watching her eye color change. His own eyes lit with fascination. He had thought that only other lycanthropes had changing eyes like that, but… apparently not.

At her words, Mardicos hesitated. And the reminder of the nature of his scars made him think of his shoulders. Unconsciously, he reached back, as if to scratch near the top of his shoulderblade, and rubbed his fingers along there. That scar was also gone, and its companion with it.

He chuckled a moment, settling back against the tree. After a moment of soaking in the knowledge of his freedom, he steeled himself enough to give her some sort of explanation. He owed her that much at least.

“The memories are still quite painful, but, you’re right. They’re not natural at all. After I was cursed, I was kept in a dungeon. The wom… Shit… The witch that cursed me decided to study me. She and her court wizard… basically, tortured me. I… didn’t escape until a cataclysmic event fell upon the area,”he explained shakily, his voice breaking when he mentioned the witch.

The memories of his torture, the experiments, the agony, came rushing back, and a low whine, like that of his wolf form, escaped him without him realizing. The memories of her hurt worse than the memories of his own screams.

Farah's observant eyes took in his micromovements and expressions. She dually noted how he touched where there once were scars and that there was still a rather nasty-looking scar left that hadn't healed like the rest of them. She opened her mouth to ask him if he wanted her to heal it, but she thought better of it. It clearly hadn't come off like the rest of them, so what was one more attempt going to do? Most likely nothing.

But as he began to talk, the memories that flashed in his head played seamlessly in hers as well. She winced at the pain and the suffering and the… betrayal. Immediately when he mentioned the witch, she sensed feelings of old love and longing and desire, but at the same time, immense hurt.

"She betrayed you?" Farah asked quietly. "You were in love with her, and she betrayed you. I'm very sorry."

Mardicos noticed her mouth open, wondering what she was about to ask. Though, when she didn’t say anything, he left it alone. No point in forcing her to say something she didn’t want to.

At her words, he gasped and turned away, a small whine coming from him. How? How did she know? Was it so obvious? A shiver passed through him and his eyes grew moist again.

“You’re… very observant, madam,”he breathed, closing his eyes. His tense shoulders lowered, and when he opened his eyes again, there was melancholy in them.

“She was a witch. Also, the leader of a cult. And… a fucking seductress bitch that shattered my entire existence. This curse, my feelings for her, my whole fucking life!”he said, his voice rising to a powerful shout.

He swayed, nearly panting as the hair on his arms grew thick and dark. Mardicos then took several deep breaths, his arms slowly returning to normal. After a moment, he started to snicker. He finally looked at the woman, one of his eyes the icy blue of his wolf form.

“She did this to me. She tortured me, experimented on me, took the broad shoulders I was fucking born with! But, despite everything she did, I still love her. I put a goddamn broadsword through her chest, then cut her fucking head off, a little over five hundred years ago. And I did it because I loved her. How does that make any sense?”he asked, laughing as tears streamed down his face.

Farah inhaled swiftly as he shivered, and she knew at once she had touched a nerve. "Most people tell me so," she remarked quietly, though her observations were minimally based on body language and more often provided through the reading of others' thoughts, emotions, and memories.

As Mardicos shouted, Farah flinched away, cold fear shooting through her for only a moment before she controlled it back to a neutral stoic flatline. She maintained her composure, even after seeing him nearly change again before her. Then, finally, he looked at her, and she saw the eye color in one of his eyes had changed

Gently, Farah reached out and touched the man's arm. "Love can cause us to do things we wouldn't normally do otherwise," she began once he was finished with his story. "I may not have experienced the things that you have in my own physical body, but I understand."

Her thoughts drifted to a specific person for a moment before she shook her head.

"But while love can be quite brilliant and glowing and… magical, it is important that we don't use it as an excuse for our hateful and wicked actions. And from my understanding, that is what she did to you. Am I wrong?"

Mardicos smelled her fear, but it barely registered. His emotions were too wild at the moment, and the memories of the gorgeous bitch he loved terrorized him. He missed her so much, but it was for the best.

Their past had been too dark, they both knew this. After so many years apart, he couldn’t bear it anymore, but he couldn’t even be around her without thinking of her betrayal! It had all been too much! They both understood that.

Mardicos flinched at the woman’s touch, watching her cautiously. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he wasn’t sure how well he could control himself. Mardicos listened to her though, and was a bit confused by her words.

‘In her own physical body’? What the fuck does she mean by that?

“You’re not wrong. She fucking used me. But, there was no malice behind my blade. I killed her to free us. We both wanted each other, ached for each other, but the past ate at us. It took me fucking years after she came back for me to even think of going near her. And that was when I fucking killed her,”he explained, his voice quiet and his laughter dying down.

He sighed sorrowfully, wiping the tears off his face and leaning back against the tree. His eye slowly turned back to blue grey. He was silent for a few minutes before looking back at the woman.

“You know my name, first name at least, and the most painful part of my past. But, I know nothing of you,”he mentioned softly.

(Sorry this is short O.o)

Farah listened to him continue, and she frowned sympathetically. "I'm sorry," was all she could whisper. Her eyes softened as she looked up at him, and blinked. She shook her head at his final implication and contemplated her response. "What would you like to know?" she asked quietly.

(You’re good. I’m casual about the length, I just, obviously lol, like to write a lot)

Mardicos gave her a small smile, then sighed again. He brushed a hand through his hair, his fingers lingering on the bigger white streak.

“Your name, firstly,”he replied with a chuckle.

He then hummed, wondering what else he could ask her about. He could ask for the most painful part of her past, but he decided against it. It was torture having such memories, let alone talking about them. But, there was so much else he could ask about.

After a long moment, he shrugged. He just didn’t know anything about her, no clues on where to start.

“Something about you. What sort of witch are you?”he finally asked.

The woman nodded slowly. "I'm Farah," she replied, a small smile gracing her lips as she finally told the man her name. She was prepared for any question he might ask her, and she heard the thought turn over in his mind about asking her about a dark past. She waited patiently before he finally asked.

"I don't like to think of myself as a witch," she replied. "I am a fairy. A mind fairy, at that, but I've been able to practice other elements as well. Like…" She grinned, her eyes turned silver-blue, and she held her palm up. A water bubble formed as she drew moisture from the air.

“Farah. Elegant, simple, foreign. Fascinating,”he said with a thoughtful hum.

He noticed her smile, and the tension in his body seemed to fade away. What was so soothing about this woman? Or was he just outrageously lonely? Probably a combination of factors.

He listened to her, then watched her create the water bubble. So… a sort of elemental witch? Was that what a fairy was? Or was he just utterly wrong?

“It’s been awhile since I studied unusual creatures. A ‘fairy’? A mind fairy? Fuck… You’re a goddamn telepath, aren’t you? That’s what you meant by not understanding in your own body. How much do you know?”he asked, sighing.

Farah felt herself flush a bit at the way he said and described her name. She'd always liked the sound of it. "Thank you. It means happiness… joy… beauty… pleasant…" Her flush deepened as she realized she was rambling about the meaning of her name – of all things, her name!

She laughed quietly and closed her fingers into a fist to pop the bubble. "I have the ability to communicate through telepathy, but I chose not to. As a mind fairy, I can read thoughts, sense emotions, view memories, and create dreams. Telekinesis is also one of my stronger abilities. I can also heal and take away pain, as you know, and I'm able to manipulate auras."

She sighed softly, not used to talking so much, but he wasn't stopping her, so she continued. "As a fairy, you're born with a specific element. Mine, obviously, was the mind. I've also worked to master the other elements as well. Water, fire, earth, air, and light. I'm quite well-rounded now…"

She trailed off, a bit overwhelmed from talking so much. Farah was a naturally well-mannered woman, soft-spoken and quiet, especially after a certain incident in her past…

But as she spoke and listed her powers, she found herself becoming a touch embarrassed. She wasn't fond of the amount of power she held, as it attracted unwanted attention from many undesirable individuals.

Mardicos nodded at her words, a soft smile appearing at the way she flushed. There was a gentle gleam in his eyes, even as he admired her features.

“It’s a fitting name,”he remarked.

Mardicos listened closely, intrigued but a bit wary. This woman, Farah, was quite powerful. Probably one of the most powerful witches, or individuals, he had ever met.

“I see. And, I get the feeling you’ve read my thoughts and saw some memories, yes? Is that a reason why you’ve been able to read me so well?”he wondered.

Mardicos noticed her demeanor, and picked up on the smell of her embarrassment. Her apparently quiet and humble nature intrigued him.

“You are quite powerful by the sounds of it, and also by the fact that you healed scars caused by a High Priest and a Witch Queen. But, power always comes with some sort of price or burden. I understand what that’s like all too well,”he said, his voice soft, comforting.

He descended into deep thought for a moment, then shrugged. Fuck it. Why should I hide?

“I’m no mere lycanthrope. I’m what is called a Midnight Wolf, a beast so ancient and rare that even the myths have faded. From my knowledge, they were supposedly pets of the gods, or slaves. And… I understand why from personal experience,”he mentioned.

Farah looked away, embarrassed as he asked his question that she most likely knew would be asked. "Yes, I'm sorry," she apologized quietly. "I read thoughts as a habit since my abilities are pretty much always active. I try not to be invasive."

At the mention of her power, she slowly forced herself to look back up at him. "I'm rather ashamed of my power," she admitted. "Sometimes I hate it, in fact." Normally, she was never this open with anyone anymore, but this lycanthrope seemed trustable and genuine. He'd shared so much vulnerability with her, it was time she returned the favor.

"I fear my power is the only reason people value me," she whispered, again averting eye contact. She didn't wait for him to confirm or deny. "The people who want to build friendships and romances with me do so to brag of my abilities. So I'm out here now." She lifted her arms and motioned to the woods around them. "I have a cottage not far from here. And yes, I know it's quite desolate, but… I can't help but like being alone." Especially after Aster Dell… If I tell him, he'll think I'm a monster… That day has lived in my mind for sixteen years…

With her words out of the way, Farah again began to listen to Mardicos speak. She found him especially intriguing. "A Midnight Wolf?" she murmured quietly. "I believe I've read of those before…"