Excerpt from Aerylle's "My letters to Min, to be opened five years after our bonding, or our parting"

Ithunn slumped forward miserably on her desk and waited. Around her, second year novices chattered away energetically, inanely discussing whatever it was that second year novices discussed. Ithunn was not interested - it was humiliating enough being forced to take supplementary lessons before her final Consecration exams with girls - for she could hardly call them women - three years younger than she was, but to make matters worse, they all seemed to be talking about her. Her and Greta, of course, but Greta had been Ithunn's evil genius since they had first been assigned to the same room their first day as novices in the Order. If there was a reason for Ithunn's failure to show any interest in the academic and reflective side of her vocation as a young paladin, one did not have to look much further than the irreverently impish, red-haired Greta who had, in time, become one of Ithunn's best friends, and worst vices. Both had put in truly disastrous performances in a preliminary exam a few days before. Ithunn could only look bashfully at the sea of red ink that had covered her hastily scrawled answers, while Greta had just sat back defiantly, an impudent smirk on her lips.

So, they had been compelled by their sternly maternal tutor, Gallia, to take remedial courses - all to be taken instead of their free time, of course. Greta, oddly enough, did not seem to mind too much as she reclined casually in her wooden chair, her short red hair falling around her cheeks in a wavy pattern, like crackling flames. Her dark blue eyes seemed to dance with constant derision - as if everything she observed were so absurd as to be amusing. Ithunn, in spite of herself, was not looking at Greta's eyes, but at the novice's heavy, rounded breasts, so full they seemed to strain the fabric of her tunic. Or so Ithunn thought - it had been two days since she had last made love to Verden and those were two days too many. Now, virtually everyone at the Order of the Radiant Path stirred her interest.

"I can't believe Gallia threw our free time to the Abyss..." Greta mused, absentmindedly sweeping back a stray strand of her bright red hair.

"Do you want to be Consecrated as a paladin or not?" Ithunn interrupted glumly. Two of the more bookish second year novices in the front row were staring when they thought Ithunn was not looking and giggling surreptitiously.

"Fuck...when I joined I thought this would all be about adventure and bladecraft and, you know, the interesting stuff."

"Well, we are a bit late for regrets now."

"Anyway, Ithunn, how's that half-elf of yours working out?" Greta inquired, changing the subject to something juicier. "I never knew you would have it in you to sneak out so many times just to be with her, but there you are: she must be quite a sight." Ithunn had previously been far too strait-laced for Greta's taste, but her recent spate of evasions and missed curfews for the sole purpose of sleeping with a half-elven thief in the Hive were impressive by any standard. Indeed, Greta was now dying with curiosity to see just who this sublime temptress was.

"She is absolutely wonderful!" Ithunn gushed, despite herself. It was a relief to express her affection for Verden in a manner she was convinced the half-elf would probably sneer at. "A bit abrasive when you first get to know her, but she is absolutely fascinating, charming in her own way and very, very pretty." That last compliment was voiced with a certain longing. Ithunn badly wanted to be kissing Verden passionately between the sheets rather than trying to make herself heard over the din of constantly chattering second year novices.

"Pretty, huh?" Greta snorted, turning to face Ithunn. The blonde novice was always rather transparent - very little transpired that was not immediately evident in her vivid, green eyes and classically beautiful, Ortho features. "I never knew half-elven girls had big tits."

"Fu...I mean, dammit, Greta!" Ithunn growled under her breath, blushing furiously.

The red-haired novice erupted in soft, lightly mocking laughter and gave Ithunn's shoulder a reassuring pat. "I'm probably not the sharpest novice in the Order, but you've been ogling me since we, too, were second years. Which, might I add, was why I was so pissed when you started obsessing about Syf. I thought you liked the more feminine type." Although she never considered herself an intellectual, Greta was observant - so much so that other novices had grown to fear her sharp tongue and almost Friyya-like ability to set rumours aflame like a wildfire in a steppe in mid-summer.

"I do," Ithunn answered wearily - it was not the first time she had that particular conversation with Greta, "but Syf...Syf is a goddess." Even though she had been rejected out of hand by the sternly beautiful Syf, Ithunn had never ceased to admire her mentor. She probably admired her more than ever before, if only because of her protective devotion towards Friyya. Now that Ithunn had discovered what it meant to feel her pulse quicken the moment she heard Verden's voice, she could fully empathise with Syf's love.

"I really do hope you get over that." Greta's tone was lightly reprimanding. "At any rate, now you have someone else you can dedicate all your attention to. So...does she...you know, have big..."

"Yes!" Ithunn snapped, finally relenting. There was no way to resist Greta's prurient little feelers.

"I knew it!" Greta purred, drawing her chair closer to Ithunn so she could whisper in her ear. "I bet she's happy she found her gallant, blonde Valkyrie." There was a measure of respectful envy in Greta's comment, for she had always secretly desired Ithunn's tall, slender, athletic frame. When she was clad in full armour, with her helm, lance and intricately braided hair, Ithunn did indeed look exactly like a battle-maiden of Ortho mythology.

"I hope she is. Sometimes I find myself praying to the Maiden, asking her that if She ever grants me but one thing, to let that be happiness with Verden. She isn't exactly a model of virtue, but she makes me a better, more caring person."

"I'm sorry. Is that still Ithunn there? Since when are you so sentimental?" Greta inquired sardonically.

"Frankly," Ithunn replied with a knowing smile, "I am just as confused as you are."

"That's the problem, Ithunn, confusion. Personally, I prefer less complicated relationships."

"Hmm...speaking of which, I heard about you and Marséna, congratulations..." Ithunn noted dryly.

"Very funny," came the sharp retort, "in any case, it was a one night sort of thing. I guess she was lonely and since someone we both know has found the half-elven love of her life, where is poor little Greta to go for a little human warmth?" She emphasised the pun just in case Ithunn missed it.

"Don't be so bigoted." Ithunn said defensively, even as she brought her face closer to Greta's ear, leaning in so close she could smell the red-haired novice's sweetly floral perfume. "But...say, how is Marséna...you know, intimately speaking."

"Best. Fuck. Ever." Greta said dramatically. "But she was so charming about it, too. She knows how to make you feel good about yourself, so, though you know she's in charge, she makes you feel like you're queen for a night."

"Sounds like you are little starry-eyed yourself."

"Huh? No!" Greta protested. "She's got Virg and Goddess knows who else to deal with. I'm still looking...no thanks to you." Although she had long ago ceased trying to force Ithunn on a guilt trip, Greta was still somewhat bitter that the girl she had shared her first intimate experiences with was far more interested in an unseen half-elf. Granted, their early encounters had not been especially romantic - or graceful - but they had approached it all in a spirit of friendship, a friendship that Greta had desperately hoped would eventually become something more.

"Oh, come on Greta," Ithunn interjected, her tone more conciliatory this time, "you're my best friend and bunkmate..."

"Yeah," Greta interrupted, only just stopping herself from screaming 'if only that were enough' at the top of her lungs, "but while we're on the topic of Marséna, did you hear they raided that Civic Security holdout in the Hive?"

"Of course. Verden...uhm, my beloved's friend had been arrested, apparently illegally, but I heard they really tore through some heavy resistance. And," Ithunn's voice fell to a conspiratorial whisper, "Syf hinted after yesterday's training session that Virginia was planning on getting to the bottom of the matter. It seems like someone at Civic Security has a grudge against the Order, so Virginia was planning a punitive raid to sort them out."

"Damnation. Why does all the interesting stuff have to happen while we're still novices?"

"That is precisely what I said." Ithunn crowed. "But Syf told me that, if I wanted, I could come along. It is technically acceptable for a senior novice to accompany a full paladin as a shield maiden, even if that practice was discontinued ages ago." In reality, Syf had been a little sceptical when Ithunn begged the paladin to bring her along. But, in light of Ithunn's excellence as a blademistress and the unpleasant run-in with the khaasta last time they raided Civic Security, Syf had finally decided that they would need all the help they could get.

"Oh?" Greta said, barely repressing her jealousy. "I'm glad to see you have ambitions to be a mythic heroine."

"Finally..." Ithunn said with burning, almost unnerving, enthusiasm. "Finally I will show my worth as Syf's successor."

"Excuse me," an irritatingly girlish voice snapped from the desk next to Greta's, "not everyone is interested in your personal affairs."

"Fuck you, Sigrid." Greta snarled, whipping around to face the impertinent second year novice. "And next time I catch you hanging around our room I'll give you such a thrashing you won't be able to sit down for a week."

"Try me." Sigrid sneered defiantly. She was lithe and graceful, her short hair so dark it had a distinct indigo tinge to it which was mirrored by the violet glint in her otherwise sapphire-blue eyes. Her features were still soft, like those of a girl, but they bore an almost otherworldly, enigmatic beauty, like the moon-white paleness of her skin. Greta loathed and envied her in equal measure. "I fear no threats from a common human." Sigrid was fiercely proud of her aasimar heritage, something that had done very little to endear her to the predominantly human contingent of novices.

"Oh really?" Greta retorted, deciding to deploy her sharper swords so Sigrid could learn her place. "Is that why your mother dumped you here? Because she was ashamed of her half-breed daughter? Hmm? When was the last time she sent you a sweets package, or any gift, for that matter? Seems like she was so proud of her superior daughter that she never even bothered to send any clothes...my, my, those standard issue tunics must get repetitive after a while."

"I..."

"I've seen you moping around the storehouse," Greta continued savagely, "waiting behind the other novices, just hoping that there would be something, some package for you, but there never is, Sigrid, is there?"

"Greta, easy." Ithunn chided, firmly squeezing her friend's shoulder. "Sigrid," she said, turning to the livid young novice, "mind your own business."

Seemingly oblivious to the hushed silence that had suddenly swept across the classroom, Sigrid, never once shifting her gaze from Greta, mouthed the vilest insult she could think of.

"Sigrid!" Gallia, who had just walked into the chamber, growled and the aasimar's blood froze. "I heard that. Report to the Vice-Commander this instant! I never thought I would see the day...a novice of the Blessed Maiden using such unspeakable language."

"But...but..." Sigrid protested. Before she knew it, Gallia was by her desk. Though normally serenely radiant, the raven-haired priestess was now utterly furious.

"Up!" Gallia ordered and Greta, sniggering under her breath, looked away.

"But..." Sigrid protested weakly.

"You impudent, worthless little slattern." Gallia said between gritted teeth as she seized Sigrid by the scruff of her tunic, forced her to her feet and marched her out of the door. "You will not last long in the Order if you keep on like this."

"Justice is served." Greta whispered with sadistic glee to Ithunn. "Isobel is going to kill her."

"Poor girl..."

"Never mind her. Do you want me to cover for you today during leisure time? After all these remedial classes, I guess you'll want to see your lovely half-elf."

"Would you?" Ithunn said, barely containing her enthusiasm.

"Anything for my Ithunn." Even if she could not be Ithunn's lover, she would stand firm by her side.

"Thanks, I owe you one..."

"Ithunn, Greta!" Gallia called from her desk in the front of the classroom. Her voice carried an authoritative weight that echoed throughout the stony chamber. "Pay attention and you may just pass your Consecration exams. But, then again, if Marséna passed last year, hope does indeed spring eternal, even for you two. In my day, of course, Consecration exams were serious matters, but I suppose it only takes fifteen years to ruin a perfectly good selection process. Now we have novices who cannot even recall the feats of the Nine Heroines of Celes...the Blessed Maiden only knows what this Order is coming to!"

***

"Now, if I may, I would conclude on a personal note." Cirily paused at the small assembly of expectant faces - mainly young, bored socialites of Sigil's demimonde. It was only the second exhibition of her painting and pottery, but she had enjoyed a modest, niche success and was pleased by the relatively generous turnout. In truth, she had Elyszara's aggressive marketing and extensive social networks to thank for that. Ironically, however, Elyszara - who had never cared much for art or aesthetics that went far beyond the erotic - had been crucial in organising Cirily's first proper lecture. Now, in a wide, solemnly elegant marble chamber with a domed ceiling decorated with elven frescoes, Cirily actually felt more like an artist and less like Elyszara's frustrated housewife. That was a new and very pleasant feeling indeed.

"Sigil," Cirily tidied up her notes for dramatic effect and turned her eyes, brilliant like burnished gold, to focus directly on her audience, "has such an immense variety of cityscapes that painting them all is impossible, because the fabric of Sigil is in constant flux. What interests me is not the past, present or future, but those transitions which determine movement from one state of time to the other; thus, my interest is in the flux itself. All my work is geared towards representing the dynamism, life and sheer variety of Sigil and I thank you all for your kind attention and hope you enjoy the refreshments we have provided." Unexpectedly lively clapping followed, bringing immediate relief to Cirily's frayed nerves. She was always anxious when she had to exhibit her work, terrified that some jaded critic would eviscerate her with some withering put-down. But, all in all, it had been a moderate success.

As she stepped down from the podium and began to mingle in the crowd, Cirily was flattered to feel all eyes on her. She had commissioned and actively participated in the weaving of a bronze-coloured silk gown especially for the occasion and it had not been a disappointment. The fabric hugged her rounded breasts and flared hips - so feminine by aasimar standards- whilst drawing attention to the firmness of her belly and thighs, muscular, yet gently curved, like those of a dancer. Even the lighting had been expertly calibrated to emphasise the impressively varied colour schemes of Cirily's impressionistic work, not to mention the rich, coppery autumnal tinge of her skin and the breathtakingly varied red hues of her shoulder-length hair that betrayed her aasimar heritage.

As she made her way to the lavish buffet of sweet wine and Arborean pastries which had been set up behind the audience seating area, it occurred to Cirily that she did not recall having invited the tall, gaunt, saturnine figure which now towered a good foot and a half above most of the other guests, a chalice of Thyeem Flowerwine clutched in a black-gloved hand.

"I'm sorry, have we met?" Cirily began, approaching the figure. She had to restrain gasp when she saw it turn around, for clad in an impeccably elegant black outfit of military cut was a snarling, demonic arcanoloth, its elongated war-dog muzzle twisted in a parody of a grin.

"Not as such." Dassau noted. His low, unpleasantly cultured voice always struck the casual observer as incongruous to his vicious appearance.

"Wh...what did you think of the...exhibit?" Cirily inquired cautiously, taking a step back.

"Fascinating. Your use of colour is bold, innovative even, and you have mastered composition like few other novice artists. Nevertheless, your subject is trite, your dynamism betrays a lack of underlying technique and the post-symbolistic aesthetic of your pottery is only incrementally superior to that of a good elven artisan." Dassau snarled again. That was the closest he ever came to a compliment.

"Well..." Cirily swallowed a knot of disappointment that had been forming in her throat. "What, may I ask, brings you here?"

"Convey my regards to your adoptive mother." Dassau replied enigmatically, taking a long sip of his wine.

"Do...do you know each other?" the aasimar inquired weakly.

"One could say so."

"Really...uh, sir, that is...quite interesting, but I should really..."

"Mingle. Yes, you should. It is rather rude of me to be keeping the host all to myself. Perhaps you will excuse this lapse in protocol." Contempt dripped abundantly from every word Dassau enunciated.

"Very well then...enjoy the refreshments." Cirily concluded hastily and made her way, as quickly as possible, into the reassuring anonymity of the crowd.

It was there that she felt Elyszara's reassuring arm wrap around her waist. "Hey, Cirily! That was phenomenal!" the midnight-haired aasimar enthused. Her voice then sank to a more intimate whisper as she drew closer to Cirily. "Intellectual women make me so wet." Unfazed by the crowd around her, Elyszara playfully ran her tongue down Cirily's sensitive, delicately pointed ear, causing the red-haired aasimar to shudder with guilty pleasure at the sudden rush of sensuality that had begun to course through her veins.

"Lys...I really should..."

"Oh, Cirily..." Elyszara purred between surreptitious licks that left a glistening sheen on Cirily's pale, bronze-tinted skin. "It took all the self-control I had not to slip a hand under my dress and pleasure myself right in front of everyone."

"Self-control?" Cirily chuckled softly.

"I know," Elyszara whispered smugly. "I'm full of surprises."

"Speaking of which, did you ever see that...thing over there, I believe it is an arcanoloth." Cirily said, gently detaching Elyszara's hungry lips from her ear and turning to face her smiling lover.

"Fuck him." said Elyszara dismissively. "Sigil is full of pseudo-critics and commentators. He's probably just looking for something to review...so, do you want to come upstairs? We have an invitation-only event." In the suffused light of the exhibition hall, Elyszara's rich, twilight-violet evening gown appeared to radiate, blending perfectly with the midnight-sky colour of her silver and blue streaked coal-black hair and the pearlescent whiteness of her skin. Even after years of living with Elyszara, Cirily never ceased to be amazed by her lover's almost painfully flawless elfin beauty. If only, Cirily thought, she could get rid of that appalling indigo nail and lip-paint. But Elyszara adored the 'fallen angel' look, citing the rather flimsy premise that it was 'sensually ambiguous'.

"Invitation only? Lys...what did you do?" Cirily queried accusingly.

"I like to call it 'networking'." came the provocative reply. With that, Elyszara swept Cirily's hand into her own and hurried towards a set of white and gold curtains to the side of the exhibition hall. There, they proceeded into a deserted, marble hall that led to a circular stairway.

"Lys, I really should speak to a few potential buyers..." Cirily protested as she hurried up the steps behind Elyszara.

"Don't worry, I already attended to that. When I said 'by invitation only' I meant that invitations would be extended only to buyers of your masterpieces." It was then that it suddenly made sense to Cirily. Elyszara's social gatherings were so prized by the more decadent elements of Sigil's golden youth that purchasing a stylised ceramic vase for a thousand or so Sigil Marks appeared to be a bargain indeed.

At the very top of the staircase was a landing with two great mahogany doors, intricately inlaid with golden leaf-patterns that appeared to lead to different chambers. Predictably, a few of Elyszara's guests were dithering and flirting on the landing, in various stages of undress, plied by the effects of the free-flowing wine downstairs. Elyszara led Cirily to the inlaid door to the right, where a young elven boy with shoulder-length blonde hair stood bent over and naked against the wall, grunting in pleasure as a dark haired half-elven youth plunged his passion-engorged phallus between the quivering, alabaster cheeks of his submissive lover's bottom. The elven boy's cock was thin, graceful and hairless, but steel-hard and perfectly smooth, its rosy head pulled taut like the skin of a drum. They coupled lustily, the dark-haired half-elf straining his slender frame with each thrust, effortlessly spreading his demure lover's wanton hole, until he finally rammed in a final long, needy thrust and unleashed his seed deep into the smaller boy's yielding depths. The blond elven boy groaned, eyes screwed shut as he jerked his rigid phallus twice in his fist before jetting three long streamers of silvery seed a few inches from Elyszara's feet.

"Oh really!" the midnight-haired aasimar chided. "Off to the room on the left with both of you! Honestly...if people actually bothered to read the invitation." With that, she pressed her palm against the door in front of her and felt the mechanism magically unlock. Slowly, the great mahogany panels parted, opening out into a fragrantly smoky darkness. Elyszara stepped in followed by a now very curious Cirily.

"Sometimes I think that's the trouble with males." Elyszara complained as she ventured into the almost featureless darkness. "They seem to enjoy spending their seed everywhere. Charming boy that he is, he also almost ruined one of my best pairs of satin boots. The trouble is...that never comes out."

A few more paces into the darkened chamber, surrounded by wafting, aromatic smoke, heavy like incense, but supple and insidious, like a narcotic, brought the couple to a dimly illuminated circular space, covered in plush silk cushions. Glowing braziers sent puffs of head-lightening smoke into the air while floating spheres of opalescent light flooded everything in a lunar glow. It was like being in a forest glade at midnight under the crescent moon. A predictably tawdry coterie of Elyszara's lady friends were already spread out, often quite literally, on the cushions: kissing, embracing, grinding, licking, fucking between drags on thin, Dreamsmoke pipes shaped like a dragon's snout and sips of ecstatic Apoka Poppy Essence. Cirily swallowed, inhaling the aphrodisiac smoke as she felt her muscles loosen, her inhibitions slowly begin to break down under the pressure of the scenes unfolding in front of her. Naturally, she was no prude - for sensuality was to Arborea as the Oceanus was to the Elemental Plane of Water, but Elyszara had the ambiguous talent of constantly pushing the envelope.

"Oh...Lys, we thought you were never going to come..." A sensually curvaceous water genasi with aqua-tinted skin and hair blue and white like the crest of wave whispered as she writhed on a cushion - the smell of her lust-sodden sex was like sea-spray. In front of her, a dusky, sharp-featured human girl was working her hand into the pliant recesses of the buxom genasi's sex.

"Silly girl," Elyszara said airily, "I'm the life of the party, remember?"

Cirily felt fire build in the pit of her belly. There was something hypnotic about the revellers surrounding her - about their motions, their cries of pleasure. Everything seemed to blur into one, indistinct, but profoundly sensual whole. Before she knew it, she had seized Elyszara by the waist and was kissing the living breath out of her dark-haired lover's soft, indigo-painted lips. Cirily sought heat and passion against the pliant wetness of Elyszara's tongue. Her kiss was fierce, her lips hungry to taste more of that wicked little minx who, despite her wantonness, was the only person Cirily found she could love erotically and romantically at the same time.

Elyszara's hands wandered up the sides of Cirily's dress, tracing the firm curve of the flame-haired aasimar's thighs before settling on the magnificent globes of her bottom. Their tongues were locked in a trance-like dance. Elyszara's mouth tasted of sweet wine, a sensation only magnified by the heady narcotic smoke that now filled Cirily's lungs with each breath. Stepping out of her boots and quickly pulling off her evening gown, Elyszara stood naked in front of Cirily, panting. Flooded with desire, Cirily needed to feel her lover. So she lunged and renewed their passionate kiss, her quick hands running lovingly over the taut surface of Elyszara's outrageously pert, conical breast. The midnight-haired aasimar's light pink nipples were so stiff Cirily felt a surge of liquid need mount in her loins the moment she touched them. Elyszara moaned, biting down, hard, on Cirily's lip.

"I want you to lick me out." Elyszara growled, her mind fogged by passion as she ran her fingers down the sensitive surface of Cirily's ears.

Cirily nodded and eased her lover down on the cushions. Elyszara's flawless skin had acquired an otherworldly glow in the dim light of the chamber. She almost looked like an apparition, shrouded in smoke. But the sensation of fevered skin was very real, and Cirily's tongue set to work lapping hungrily down the paler girl's soft throat. Elyszara sighed, her eyes tightly shut as she curled slender toes against the soft fabric of the cushions beneath her. Kissing downwards, Cirily left long, wet trails down her lover's compact, deliciously firm breasts. Her ruby-red lips latched on to Elyszara's painfully engorged nipples, taking each into her mouth so that her tongue could play across the firm, pliant surface while her lover writhed, thighs pulled taut with tension.

A pair of warm, dextrous hands reached from behind Cirily, but the flame-haired aasimar was too absorbed in exploring the flat expanse of Elyszara's belly to care. "Don't worry, Cirily, it's just Faenya." Elyszara sighed, smiling in encouragement at the waifishly slender, platinum-blonde moon elven girl who had crawled up behind Cirily and was busy loosening the straps to the aasimar's dress. Cirily allowed herself to be undressed as her kisses brought her close to the plump, smooth, juicing mound of Elyszara's fragrant pussy. There, Cirily could only gaze in adoration as Elyszara wantonly spread the inner lips of her sex with two slender fingers, her indigo nail-paint standing in delightful contrast with the light pink of her nether lips, glistening with the dew of her lust.

Cirily swallowed and moved her lips closer, until they grazed the surface of Elyszara's sex, her tongue flicking out for the briefest instant to gather just a few droplets of her lover's arousal. Elyszara's taste, even after nights spent buried between the gorgeous aasimar's thighs, was always a revelation - a soft and elegant combination of fruity, salty and musky tones. Faenya had finally freed Cirily of her dress and was in the process of running her tongue down the flame-haired aasimar's arched spine. The moon elven girl had one hand planted between her own thighs as she caressed the plump, moist mound of her sex and tugged gently at the platinum stud embedded in her clitoris, sending little spasms of electrical pleasure shooting up her spine. Like many second generation moon elves, she took immense pleasure in offending her well-to-do but, in her view, narrow-minded parents.

Cirily, for her part, began to lap hungrily at the inner lips of Elyszara's sex, her tongue expertly trailing over the nectar slick petals. Elyszara gave a low, mewling sigh and held herself open. She felt molten desire surge thickly in her veins, with the little pinpricks of pleasure she felt building on the sensitive flesh of her sex magnified tenfold by the effects of the drugged smoke. Cirily worked diligently, settling into a comfortable position on her belly on the cushions, as her tongue danced and worked its way inexorably upwards, until she felt the jewel-like hardness of Elyszara's stiff little clit.

"Your Pearl of Hanali is so cute when it slips from its hood." Cirily enthused, her tongue a pressing quick, firm licks against the engorged and deliciously sensitive surface of Elyszara's bud. Very gently, the flame-haired aasimar pressed two fingers against the sodden entrance of Elyszara's canal. There was no resistance and Elyszara thrust her hips outwards, inviting further penetration. Cirily obliged, her fingers parting the velvety inner walls of her lover's nectar-slick pussy and moving into that reassuring, hothouse warmth. A high-pitched cry floated from Elyszara's wet, parted lips, as she braced herself, her hips thrusting hungrily against Cirily's fingers. She did not care if she interrupted the rhythm of her the flame-haired girl's licking - she just needed something of Cirily's inside of her.

"Steady, Lys, steady." Cirily drawled, her mouth cloyed with the subtle sweetness of Elyszara's nectar, her mind addled by the Dreamsmoke Faenya was malicious blowing in her direction as the innocent-looking but shamelessly wanton elven girl alternated between stroking Cirily's thighs and bottom and taking deep, decadent drags from her thin pipe.

Elyszara forced herself to comply and was rewarded by the jarring but delectable sensation of teeth scraping against her clit while the pads of Cirily's fingers began to massage the inner walls of her sodden canal in a long, circular pattern. In her passion, Elyszara strained against the cushions, her chest tightening with each aroused heartbeat, a delightfully burning nexus of passion was building in her sex, spurred on by Cirily's hungry licking. Elyszara's moans rose, seemingly in chorus with the gasps and satisfied sighs that permeated the chamber, as she felt her passion finally begin to unfurl. The moment was divine, a long, powerful release of tension as her sex contracted gently around Cirily's fingers and she came, toes curling aggressively into the fabric of the cushions underneath her, her back arching, hard nipples drilling the air.

"Fuck...Cirily..." Elyszara whimpered incoherently as Cirily continued her work, seemingly unmoved by her lover's climax. Faenya remained kneeling behind Cirily and had slipped a surreptitious hand between the flame-haired aasimar's thighs, her fingers trailing suggestively up the sweat-slick flesh.

"She's got an amazing ass, doesn't she, Lys?" Faenya commented, trailing her fingers possessively down the taut, yet feminine curve of Cirily's bottom. When she spoke Sigil's lingua franca she always affected a plebeian Hive accent. "I think it deserves a good licking." The fine-featured moon elf leaned forward and drew her tongue playfully up the arch of Cirily's foot, before lavishing her kisses, wet and teasing, on the aasimar's thighs and bottom.

"Good idea..." Elyszara said absentmindedly running her fingers through Cirily's silky hair, watching in wonder at how its colour varied so prismatically, taking in every shade between bright yellow and ember red. "But not like this." Gently, Elyszara lifted Cirily's head from her sex and rose with languid grace, before making her way to Faenya. She seized Faenya by her long, silvery hair and brought the moon elven girl to her feet.

"Oh!" Faenya gasped, only to be silenced by Elyszara's lips as the aasimar kissed her with hungry abandon. Slender, passionate hands ran down the flat expanse of the moon elf's belly to caress her small, conical breasts and the enticingly large, rosy-pink nipples that capped them - firm and plump like strawberries. Faenya's tongue fought back hungrily against Elyszara's, only to be abruptly interrupted by a sharp tug of the aasimar's hand against her hair, breaking the kiss.

"Cirily, on your hands and knees." the dark-haired aasimar ordered, flicking Faenya's pointed ear with a wet lick while the elven girl whimpered, relishing in the exquisite fusion of pain and excitement of Elyszara's forceful lovemaking. Although something deep in the back of Cirily's rational mind told her to object, the combined effect of the narcotic incense and the Dreamsmoke that surrounded her overwhelmed the flame-haired girl's better instincts. So she complied, demurely raising her bottom high in the air for her lover's pleasure, legs spread so that her sopping pussy lay spread open, deep pink like a blooming tropical flower, her sweet dew trailing down the silky nether lips. "Faenya, be a good girl and show Cirily just how much your appreciate her bottom."

Faenya nodded happily and fell back on her knees behind Cirily, her tongue running wantonly between the tight crevasse of the flame-haired aasimar's bottom. Elyszara smiled at the sight, Cirily whimpering in pleasure as sweet, waifish Faenya smothered the tight, dark pink little star of Cirily's bottom with firm, lusty licks. But, then again, Faenya had a reputation for being even more debauched than Elyszara and the little minx showed it, her lips applying sweet pressure on Cirily's anus as her tongue coaxed the tight little rosebud to relax.

Elyszara felt her heart swell in her chest in anticipation. She let Faenya continue her work and retrieved one of the silver pitchers full of clear, liquid honey that had been left amidst the cushions for the pleasure of her guests, before making her way back to Cirily's side. Faenya was still licking, leaving long wet trails in the tight crease of Cirily's bottom, one hand, as ever, wantonly strumming her clit through her flower-shaped platinum piercing.

"Sweet Faenya," Elyszara noted, her voice more giggly than usual, for the smoke was beginning to seriously affect her as well, "you've been playing with yourself all day. Maybe you could give Cirily just a little taste of nice, flowery moon elf pussy." Cirily groaned against the pillows in approval. A soft, almost spicy scent filled the air as some Black Lotus granules were added to the smoking braziers. The room, quite literally, began to flow in front of the flame-haired aasimar's eyes, as if colours, textures and sounds had started to fade into each other, generating a great, symphonic whole.

The moon elven girl was all too happy to comply, pausing only to exchange a passionate kiss with Elyszara, before crawling over in front of Cirily and spreading her legs with such grace that she made even that shameless, wanton action look elegant. Cirily sighed in pleasure, her bronze-red eyes glowing in anticipation as she parted Faenya's lush nether lips. The moon elf girl was glistening with her lusty wetness, her petals soaked with the viscous nectar of her need. In her lust-fogged mind, Cirily realised that it was the fertile phase of Faenya's cycle, for the girl's juice was thick - almost as if her light pink sex were a perfect tulip coated in translucent honey. Cirily started licking and Faenya whimpered, spreading herself out on the cushions. Right before Cirily's eyes was the single, gleaming metallic point of the intricately carved stud that pierced Faenya's turgid little clit. Very carefully, the voluptuous aasimar brushed her lips over the passion-slick inner lips of Faenya's pussy, relishing in the delicate sweetness, before lapping upwards and gently flicking the stud with her tongue.

In the meanwhile, Elyszara positioned herself behind Cirily and began pouring a thin, cool rivulet of honey down the valley of the red-haired aasimar's bottom, letting flow down the curve of her sex and onto the cushions beneath. Cirily shuddered at the sensation and braced herself, toes digging into the silky material beneath her. With a deft hand, Elyszara spread the honey down the adorable, rosy pucker of Cirily's bottom and into the heady, juicing lips of the girl's pussy. Such art as the perfection of Cirily's skin in contrast with the deep pink of her sex, Elyszara thought, could never be replicated. Once she was satisfied with the spread of the sticky, aromatic honey, Elyszara pressed two finger's against the rosebud of Cirily's bottom and, quite calmly, thrust them.

"Ah!" Cirily exhaled violently, still lapping frantically at Faenya's clit. The wanton moon elf ran her fingers through Cirily's hair with one hand while she absentmindedly caressed her own tiny, but supremely elegant, breasts with the other. "How...embarrassing...I feel so loose, so...pliant."

"This is nothing." Elyszara said smugly, adding a third and a fourth finger to Cirily's over-stretched bottom and thrusting in, hard and deep to the last knuckle, letting the sweet, viscous honey flow into the very recesses of her lover's bottom. "That little whore Faenya looks small, but she can take my whole hand anywhere - anywhere I want to put it. What would your parents say to that, hmm...Faenya?"

"They know..." Faenya sighed, gritting her teeth as she felt Cirily's teeth latch on to the stud and begin a gentle, tugging motion. "But since I'm their precious only daughter, they don't give a sodding fuck. Even when I got kicked out of the Academy, they thought it was my teacher's fault for not stimulating me. 'Course, they don't realise the only stimulation I need is girls, feywine and Dreamsmoke." To say that Faenya was shallow was like saying that Gehenna was just a little warm.

Elyszara nodded sympathetically and poured more honey onto Cirily's bottom. She twisted her fingers in a corkscrew motion deep inside the red-haired aasimar's nether passage, before sharply withdrawing, eliciting a startled grunt from Cirily. Elyszara then proceeded to wantonly lick the honey off her fingers in full sight of Faenya who was fast approaching her climax. Such an outward show of Elyszara's debauchery was more than enough to set off a wave of roiling pleasure deep in the moon elf's loins as she bucked spasmodically against Cirily's lapping tongue, her shameless cries of ecstasy resounding throughout the chamber.

Smiling approvingly, Elyszara savoured the delectable fusion of the almond muskiness of Cirily's bottom mingled with the cloying sweetness of the honey. It was time to repay Cirily for her patience: Elyszara poured some fresh honey onto her hand and set about gently plying apart the lust-slick opening of Cirily's canal. The midnight-haired aasimar's dextrous fingers effortlessly parted the silky folds of Cirily's pussy, and, with very little effort, Elyszara managed to slip three fingers deep into her lover's channel. Cirily growled and tugged fiercely on Faenya's clit-stud, drawing a low moan from the elven girl, who was quite happily going for the fourth orgasm of the day. It took only a little more gentle, coaxing thrusting for Elyszara to finally accommodate five fingers into Cirily's sex. Now came the delicate part as Elyszara began an insistent, curling motion to slip her hand deep into the sensitive, velvety recesses of Cirily's pussy, a fraction of an inch at the time.

The air was hot and heady with fragrant smoke, honey, sex and countless narcotics that now blended and curled in the air like the malevolent breathing of a dreaming Red Dragon. Elyszara's hand slid deeper in, the pads of her fingers searching deep in Cirily's canal for that secret ball of pleasure deep in the passage of her femininity. Faenya's light pink nipples drilled the hair, stiff under her own fingers, as the wanton moon elf writhed, licking her lips, her delicate, almond eyes slitted with pleasure as Cirily continued licking her smouldering pussy. They had become a single, sensual whole, driven in a chain by the slow, but expert thrusts of Elyszara's fist as she grazed her fingernails against the agonisingly sensitive spot deep in Cirily's sex. Cirily braced herself - her thighs taut and hard, her breath frantic as her stiff nipples thrust themselves against the soft silk beneath. Her sex clenched, an impending wave of sensation began to loose itself deep in her loins, flooding her channel with the first pulses of a truly epic climax. Elyszara watched in amazement as Cirily abandoned her last inhibitions and surrendered to her climax, gasping violently against Faenya's sex as she felt her blood, thick as molten lead, pulse in her temples and in the pit of her belly, before finally dispersing, light as the mist, into the single most sensuous feeling of relaxation she had ever experienced.

Cirily's limbs slackened as she collapsed on the cushions, her sex contracting weakly against Elyszara's invading hand. A single trail of copious nectar mingled with honey flowed down her flawless, bronze-tinted thigh. That was the last sensation she remembered, before abandoning herself to a sea of smoke, soft, ecstatic cries and gentle, post-coital caresses, followed only by silence and darkness.

When Cirily finally awoke, she squinted in the penumbra of the chamber, tried to focus her vision, and finally realised that every muscle in her body felt tense and sore. Her lips and tongue were dry, her head still groggy and misted over. Instinctively, she reached out, and seized a small, delicate foot in her hand. She felt cool, platinum toe rings under her fingers. It was Faenya.

"Up for s'more already?" Faenya queried lasciviously, taking a long drag from yet another pipe full of Dreamsmoke. She had ceased counting how many she had smoked ages ago. “You can suck my toes and lick my pussy while I finish the pipe, then you can fuck me.”

"No...no..." Cirily said softly, still trying to get her bearings. She loathed Faenya's affected Sigil accent and it was only beginning to occur to her in those first, painful moments of lucidity just what she and the wanton moon elf had done just a little - or was it a long - while ago. Now that she thought of it, she loathed Faenya's ostentatious wantonness – but then again it was all the rage amongst rebellious Sigil-born elves to be crudely explicit.

"That's a shame..." Faenya purred, her sensual lips blowing out a puff of bluish smoke. She brushed back a few braids of platinum-blonde hair from the side of her face, revealing the three silvery enchanted rings with which her pointed ear had been pierced. It occurred to Cirily that, as far as most traditional elven societies were concerned, that was yet more scandalous than the stud in Faenya's clit.

"Where's Lys?" asked Cirily nervously, mustering all her strength to rise to her feet.

"She needed some...some...oh...fuck..." Faenya burst out giggling and took another indulgent drag from her Dreamsmoke pipe, "she needed...some air..."

"Go home, Faenya." the aasimar said wearily, doing her utmost to move without disturbing a silver-haired nymph, whom she recognised as a courtesan from the Other Place spa, who had fallen asleep in the arms of a high elf girl, whose short hair was dyed a tasteless shade of pink.

"Yeah...I probably should...d'you want to do lunch tomorrow?" the moon elf inquired dreamily.

"We'll see." came the dry reply. Cirily padded her way through what seemed like a sea of cushions to retrieve her dress. Although she was surrounded by shadowy darkness, she was sufficiently skilled as stylist to make herself presentable without the aid of a mirror. The smoke from the burning braziers of narcotics had ceased, and most of the guests appeared to be sleeping, or engaged in lazy, post-coital kissing. Cirily took a deep breath and made her way out of the stony chamber into the reassuring light of the landing outside. It was already late dusk. The featureless Sigil sky shone with an almost orange light, bathing the clear stone of the landing in a warm, autumnal glow.

The smooth marble of the floor was cool on Cirily's bare feet as she made her way back down to the exhibition hall. It was empty and the skylight had been opened, flooding the domed hall with fresh, evening air. Elyszara was lying, naked and immobile, on the buffet table, a tall, fluted - and empty - bottle of Feywine on the floor beside her.

"Nice, party, right?" Elyszara said wryly, her voice surprisingly coherent for one who had spent the last few hours consuming supernatural quantities of alcohol and narcotics.

"Lys...this must stop." Cirily said firmly, approaching the buffet table. Her mind was still painfully heavy - her brain felt too large for her skull.

"Why?"

"I have heard your argument, Lys, believe me, I have heard it so often that, sometimes, I believe it myself. Today, I made the mistake of believing it and right now I feel like I betrayed myself, my own convictions. You say we, as mortals, may as well enjoy our flesh, our youth our beauty before it's too late and I agree, but this is selfish enjoyment...I cannot bring myself to keep this up, Lys, I'm serious. This time, I'm truly serious." There was a certain sadness to Cirily's voice. She took no pleasure in issuing warnings, but enough was enough.

"Did mother dear tell you to tell me..."

"No!" Cirily interrupted, firmly this time, so that even Elyszara was compelled to turn and meet her lover's gaze. "This comes from me. I love you, Lys, and I'm not ashamed to say that I'm more in love with you now than I ever was. You want to enjoy the pleasures of mortal life, and I fully understand you, but I, as your lover, have the right to want as well. I want you to show me that you care and that I am the woman of your life. I want you to drink less, smoke less and pay more attention to me. I want a family, Lys, and it can just be us two if you truly cannot stand children. But I would like to be a mother some day, and I do not want my daughter to become like Faenya. So there you have it, Lys. That is my list of demands. I never asked for much, but this is where I draw the line. Take my demands, or leave me."

***

"Are you absolutely sure about this?" Ithunn inquired sceptically. She was reclining on the luxurious, red silk sheets of Verden's bed, her pale, athletically feminine frame seemingly out of place in the half-elf's small, jumbled-up, room which remained a testament both to chaos and to its owner's eclectic tastes. What made Ithunn so unsure was not so much the voluptuous, lasciviously smiling Verden - who had surprised her at the door wearing nothing but an unbuttoned blouse, her full, rounded breasts almost spilling over into the novice's arms - but the decidedly odd implement she now contemplated jutting out of her own sex.

"Absolutely..." Verden purred, pulling off her blouse as she climbed onto the bed between Ithunn's legs. Ithunn swallowed and felt a twinge of warmth in her sex. The half-elf's breasts were divine: big, sensually heavy but not disproportionate and deliciously round and firm - like Verden's hips and thighs, that projected from an improbably narrow waist. As excited as Ithunn was, there was something not quite right about having an intricately textured, white dildo embedded into her canal. There was magic in the shaft, for it had taken root in her sex, lubricated and fed by the nectar of her arousal. Now, it was as if Verden's every breath in the vicinity of the olisbos relayed sensations of warm moisture deep into Ithunn's loins and into her clit. The ingenuity of mages, the blonde novice thought, could always be counted upon to produce interesting results.

"But...uhm, maybe it looks a little silly." Ithunn ventured. In her eyes it did: a long white shaft protruding from the golden, downy thatch between her long, slender thighs.

"Aw, c'mon precious," Verden said with affected weariness, her chocolate-brown eyes sparkling with playful intent, "take it from someone who's actually seen a cock. You look top-shelf hot." The buxom half-elf moved closer, the smile on her wine-red lips broadening as she sensed Ithunn's trepidation.

"At the Order..." Ithunn began, almost feeling as though she were about to do something truly blasphemous. "At the Order...they say we...ought not to rely on...uh, men and their...well, things...Gallia always discourages the use of uhm...imitations..." She blushed a rather endearing shade of pink as she withdrew, almost instinctively, propping herself high up against the pillows so as to evade from Verden's suggestive advances.

"Oh, Ithunn..." Verden said with light mockery, moving forward on all fours, her heavy, bounteous breasts pendulous beneath her, light-brown nipples stiff with lusty need. "This is no imitation, this is what we'd call an improvement." Ithunn groaned as she felt Verden trail her fingers - as lightly dextrous as one would expect a thief's fingers to be - up the length of the shaft. It quite literally felt as though the half-elf were reaching deep inside her to caress the inner walls of her canal, or the very tip of her clit.

Ithunn's toes curled into the silky sheets beneath, as she reluctantly spread her legs to grant Verden better access. All of the novice's taut body was tense, her flat belly tight as a drum, her breasts rising and falling ever faster with mounting excitement. The half-elf's first approach was gentle as she tentatively gripped the shaft in both hands, her gaze never leaving Ithunn's. There was adoration in Verden's eyes as well as lust, a sensation that made Ithunn feel strangely at ease despite the new sensations that were now flooding her loins. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, the lush half-elf brushed back a strand of green and chestnut-brown hair, and took Ithunn's dildo between her lips.

"Oh...Verden...Goddess..." Ithunn mewled, her hips bucking upwards as she forced a few more inches of the sensitive dildo into Verden's mouth. The half-elf had anticipated the reaction and steadied herself, hands gripping the base of the shaft as she began to happily suck on the tip. Ithunn writhed, her turgid, pink nipples drilling the air as Verden sucked, plunging her tightly-clasping lips a third of the way down the shaft before drawing them up again, leaving wet trails on the textured surface. Verden's head bobbed in a gentle, hypnotic rhythm, eyes closed as she concentrated on the delightful little cries Ithunn let out. She could smell the musky arousal of the human girl's sex - a moist, juicy treasure buried beneath golden curls. She would taste Ithunn soon enough, but for now, Verden was intent on making sure the human novice understood just what delights lay in wait for her.

Verden's mouth, already skilful when it was busy lapping at the folds of Ithunn's pussy, was just as adept at pleasuring her with an olisbos on, so much so that, when she closed her eyes, the blonde novice felt the same pleasantly jarring sensations she experienced whenever Verden playfully grazed her teeth against her human lover's clit. But the sensation itself was different, a little distant, perhaps, because she did not feel Verden nestled between her legs, but undeniably very pleasant. The half-elf's mouth was divine: hot, eager and moist, with an irreverent little tongue that lapped tirelessly against the enchanted wood. The rhythm, that hot, relentless, suckling, licking, churning of Verden's mouth was pure, guilty bliss. Ithunn felt her need mount, pulsing in her loins, sparkling up the base of her spine. It was uncontrollable, a shuddering sensation that overcame her hips as she thrust forward, her fingers winding through Verden's soft hair, drawing the sensual half-elf closer in.

Then, before she even knew it, she felt that familiar wave of loosening pleasure overcome her. Ithunn cried out, clasping Verden's scalp lovingly in her fingers. The sensation was utterly new to her, but a profound, almost invasively masculine release. Put simply, it felt deliciously naughty. Ithunn slumped back, her channel still in its last spasms around the root of the olisbos.

"Oh...Goddess, Verden...every day brings something new with you." the blonde novice sighed, reclining back on the pillows, her eyes gazing dreamily at the battered, dusty velvet canopy above her.

"Says you." the half-elf teased with that soft, smoky, sultry tone that sent Ithunn's blood racing. "Anyways, I thought you girls at the Order knew a thing or two 'bout the ins and outs of a good fuck."

"Verden, treasure, every woman is different and there is more to relationships than physical intimacy." That last part was a direct quote from one of Gallia's half-remembered lessons. In truth, Ithunn felt a little awkward. There was something so impersonal and violent about making love with a shaft - a weapon, almost. As far as she was concerned, swords were sheathed in the bedchamber.

"Bar that!" Verden sneered playfully. "You've got no idea how wet that perfect, battle-maiden body of yours makes me." She pounced on Verden, her sensual lips pressed passionately against her human lover's as their mouths were bound together in a wet, lusty dance. Ithunn instinctively reached for her half-elven lover's breasts. Their heft, their rich, bountiful weight was so profoundly erotic that Ithunn could have spent nights on end between those two glorious orbs.

Verden straddled Ithunn, allowing the human novice to explore the generous mounds of her breasts. Her nipples stood rigid, tumescent and ready, begging to be suckled. Ithunn obliged, wrapping her arms around Verden's waist, drawing the voluptuous half-elven girl closer. The blonde novice smothered Verden's throat and breasts with kisses, tasting sweat and the intoxicating forest-mist scent of the half-elf's skin. Verden smiled, clasping Ithunn closer. The half-elf bit her lip the moment she felt Ithunn's lips wrap around a turgid nipple and tug, ever so slightly, to draw the stiff little peak out. Ithunn was always vigorous when she suckled there.

"Are you going to fuck me?" Verden sighed into Ithunn's ear.

"Yeah..." came the muffled reply, followed by the softest of teasing bites on the half-elf's nipple.

"Great, but it's always hard the first few times, 'cause you're not used to it. You've got to learn the movement first. Here, let me show you." Verden invited. Gently detaching Ithunn from her breast, she seized the dildo in her hands. It was still slick and the lightest contact of the half-elf's fingers with the textured surface made Ithunn moan. Carefully positioning herself in a squatting position above Ithunn, Verden gripped the dildo in one hand and spread the sodden inner lips of her sex with the other. A single drop of pearly, fragrant nectar dripped on the sheets. Ithunn bit her lip in anticipation, watching intently as Verden, very carefully, lowered herself onto the shaft, bringing the very tip of the enchanted rod to rest against the flared inner lips of her half-elven pussy. The sensation was exquisite. Ithunn clasped the sheets in her fists as she felt the softest, most velvety sensation she had ever experienced. It was like when they made love face to face, but less subtle and more immediately pleasurable.

"Now watch...and learn." Verden sighed and began to lower herself onto the shaft. The passion-slick nether lips of her pussy parted with no resistance. Ithunn moaned and buried her face between the half-elven girl's lush breasts. Verden's woodland-tan skin was flecked with sweat. The sweat tasted of sex, her nipples were both sensual and strangely maternal under Ithunn's lips as she suffocated her gasps of pleasure against the half-elf's turgid little peaks. It was only when Verden felt the hairless outer lips of her sex make contact with Ithunn's downy thatch that the half-elf exhaled and relaxed, relishing in the wonderful sensation of being so filled by her lover. She simply adored the thought of a part of Ithunn deep inside her, mastering her sex, claiming the same pussy that juiced so readily whenever the novice's soft lips brushed over her delicately pointed ears. Naturally, the dildo was no substitute for Ithunn's hand, but that would have to wait for lesson two.

"Hey, Ithunn," Verden whispered huskily as she raised her hips a little, her thighs straining under the sensual tension, "d'you like it?"

"Yes..." the blonde novice whimpered, her breath frantic against Verden's breasts. "Goddess...yes!"

Verden nodded, both flattered and slightly moved by Ithunn's wide-eyed enthusiasm. The half-elf lifted herself further, and then brought her hips down. Ithunn gasped. The sensation was sublime: like a velvety glove gripping her clit with every motion. Verden paused and shifted her hips, bringing the tip of the shaft deeper into her sodden canal, drawing it closer to that divine, secret spot deep inside her. Then the half-elf began to gyrate her hips in a brisk, circular motion, pressing her sex against Ithunn's whilst steering and subtly thrusting the olisbos deep inside her. They made love in silence, clutched to each other, Ithunn lying close to Verden's breasts to hear the half-elf's heartbeat.

It did not feel like something as base as fucking to Ithunn. There was no violence, as she already lay embedded in Verden, feeling the growing pressure in her clit, stiff as a pearl, and deep in her belly. The half-elf's sex seemed to envelop Ithunn's, as if they were locked in a beautiful, immensely pleasurable nether kiss - human pussy to half-elven pussy, a meeting of two womanhoods through the bridge of the dildo. Ithunn lost herself in the sensuality of the trance, in the gripping, winding motion of Verden's passion-slick channel.

As she felt the urgency of her need rise, Verden increased the tempo of her gyrations, drawing the olisbos as deep as it would go. It was a single spark, a blunt thrust against the innermost wall of her channel and the buxom half-elven girl came, grunting and mewling as she bit down on Ithunn's shoulder. The novice gasped as she felt Verden contract ever so gently around the olisbos, a sensation that was relayed deep into her sex - the sweetest of pressures straight onto her clit. It took only a few more moments for Ithunn to come, her cries suffocated by her hungry sucking of Verden's stiff nipples as she gripped the half-elf's firm, shapely bottom hard between her fingers.

"Verden..." Ithunn whispered, as she gasped for breath. The half-elven girl slumped forward, held firmly in the human novice's strong, reassuring arms. "Verden...sometimes it saddens me that I can't find the words to tell you how much I love you."

"Ah...shut your bone-box, cutter." came the gently sarcastic reply. Verden desperately hoped she could swallow the knot of emotion in her throat before Ithunn noticed.

"Say what you want. No amount of Hive cynicism will cheapen those words."

Verden sighed, rocking gently in Ithunn's arms. "I know, precious. But love isn't the word love. That's just screed when you've got nothing better to say. I don't give a fuck 'bout what people say, only what they do. There was more truth 'bout the dark of the Multiverse when you gave me your lunch when we were children than there is in...well, a million fucking 'I love yous'."

***

Ithunn slept, naked and exhausted but deliriously happy under red silk sheets. The dying light of Sigil's early evening bathed Verden's room and all its assorted, muddled bric-a-brac in a pleasantly warm glow. Lying by her lover's side, Verden could only gaze at the canopy and, when she grew tired of its amorphous surface, at the room around her. It was cramped, dusty and scattered with half-finished liquor bottles, endless varieties of perfume and just about anything else she had managed to steal and never got round to selling. A part of Verden wanted to leave it behind for a home carved in the branches of a tree in a sylvan glade, as was the custom of the wood elves. There, she and Ithunn could be happy.

A knock on the door interrupted that wildly romantic fantasy. Verden sat up wearily in the bed, careful not to disturb Ithunn. Reaching for a green silk blouse, she pulled it over her shoulders and fastened a couple of buttons before rising to her feet. She seized a wavy-bladed kris knife from the bedside table, unsheathed it and padded soundlessly to the door.

"Verden!" A sharp, but familiar voice called. "It's me, Min."

Relieved, Verden replaced the knife and opened the door. "What in the Nine fucking Hells are you doing here?" she inquired amiably, as Min stepped in and planted an affectionate kiss on Verden's hair.

"Long story...oh...fuck," the tiefling whispered the moment she saw Ithunn's long, blonde braid against the red sheets, "you busy or something?"

"Nah, she's had a long day. But if you want to talk, we can go downstairs." Verden offered.

"Sure, d'you have dinner yet?"

"Why, you buying?"

"Why not." Min concluded, her usual enigmatic smile on her lips.

"Just a moment, then." Verden sifted through a pile of clothes at the foot of her bed before finding a pair of leggings which seemed moderately clean. She pulled them on, fetched some boots and spread an abundant quantity of soft, jasmine-scented perfume in the hollow of her neck and between her breasts. Then she made her way to Ithunn's bedside. The human novice was beautiful when she slept - the very image of serenity. As gently as she could, Verden planted a soft kiss on Ithunn's cheek.

"Hmm..." Ithunn purred, tugging the sheets closer. "Is it time for me to go back yet?"

"You've got a couple of hours before curfew, if you want to stay. I'm just going down to have dinner with a friend. You sleep tight and don't let any berk in and I promise I'll be back before it's time for you to go."

Ithunn nodded and dozed off, reassured by the soft, slightly musical rhythm of Verden's words. Satisfied that her work had been done, the half-elf rejoined Min and closed the door behind them.

"How's your arm?" Verden inquired as soon as they made their way down the rickety, decaying stairs of the inn from which she rented her room.

"Better. Friyya took care of me, believe it or not." Min replied. She still wore some tightly-wound bandages around her shoulder and biceps, but the wound had largely healed since her unfortunate encounter with the khaasta.

"How's Shesayne?"

"She's better, too. But I haven't heard much from her. I just popped in to see if she was alright and then went straight back out on the lam before Aerylle could start on me." They walked into the crowded dining hall of the inn. The air was smoky and reeked of blood, beer and dead wood. Despite the early hour, the scarred and tattooed clientele was already beginning to get rowdy, plied by tiefling barmaids and half-elven serving boys who earned the bulk of their keep in the bedchamber.

"I'm sorry, Min, it's not exactly the best place to talk." Verden noted

"Fuck it. Let's just get some fresh air."

The evening outside was bracingly cool, but still far more pleasant than the smoky interior of the inn. They walked in silence for a while, contemplating the cracked cobblestones and the endless procession of burnt-brick buildings, many overgrown with moss, that lined the streets. Shop windows were dusty, with suspicious looking old crones covered in black rags selling odd, potentially hazardous wares in the form of dried lizards and playing cards printed on parchment from some best-unspecified creature.

"So that was Ithunn." the tiefling said, her breath misting in the cool air.

"Yeah, my Ithunn. It's a shame you two never met back in the day. She was cutest thing when she was a kid." Longing memories flooded back of Ithunn's expressions of amazement as Verden showed her the wonder of Sigil, from abandoned, sunken temples in the sewers to great mosaics made out of coloured sand that disappeared from one moment to the next, before magically reassembling.

"She looks like a solid cutter. All those Radiant Path girls are. You thinking of keeping this one?" Min probed.

"I let her go once." Verden said, bitterly kicking a broken cobblestone against a ruined wall, all overgrown with razorvine. "I'd rather freeze in Caina than let her go again."

Min arched an eyebrow, even if her outward appearance showed not emotion. To hear such commitment from Verden was something new indeed and, if the cynical half-elf could change, then, perhaps there was hope for anyone. "I think I did something so fucking leatherheaded I can't believe it myself. Aerylle said that she wanted me and I told her to pike it. Now, I've got to figure out where I'm going and, I guess I can only say this to you, but I'm scared. I don't want to lose Aerylle, but Aerylle can't be loved by Min, until Min becomes less of a tiefling and more of an elf."

"She wants you to stop fucking around, right?" Verden sneered. Full-blooded elves, especially full-blooded grey elves and their hypocritical values infuriated her.

"I s'pose that's part of it. But sometimes there's nothing I can do. I would've come to you yesterday night for a place to stay, but guess what? I ended up putting back half a bottle of Baatorian Firewater and picking up this rich moon elf girl with some seriously barmy ideas."

"How barmy?" Verden inquired, a little intrigued.

"She insisted on keeping the door to her room open while we fucked 'cause she said it excited her to think that her mother could walk in at any time and see her getting fucked by a tiefling...and I thought Shesayne hated her parents. Anyway, she woke me up this morning and kicked me out, 'cause, and get this, she said she had to go to an art show."

"That's exactly what I've always been saying, Min, those elven bitches, they'll never respect the likes of us." Verden mused resentfully. "But not Aerylle."

Min stopped and turned to face Verden. "What?"

"Not Aerylle. She and me - we're never going to be best friends. But that's exactly what you and me are and I won't lie to you just 'cause I think Aerylle's a high-up bitch who thinks her pussy's gilded with gold leaf." Despite herself, Min could not restrain a guilty chuckle. "What I mean, Min, is that she really needs you and I saw it in her eyes. She's a grey elf and she doesn't give a goblin's prick that you're a tiefling. Girls like that are hard to find. If you let Aerylle go, you might as well tell Lady Luck to go fuck herself to her face." Verden smiled wryly. She had probably done Aerylle the greatest favour the love-smitten grey elf could have wished for and, in all probability, she was never going to get credit for it. Such a mentality was alien to the thief in Verden, but, then again, Ithunn always put her in a good mood.

Min's piercing, orange eyes looked at Verden with a mixture of perplexity and admiration. "You sure 'bout this?"

"Pretty sure." said the half-elf. "Grey elves and tieflings can be anything they want and still be grey elves and tieflings in the flesh, right? But the mind, that's the barmy bit. Aerylle's done her best to make her mind a little less grey elf. Maybe you could see what happens you try to be a little less tiefling."

"Aw, sod it." Min said in exasperation, setting off again at a brisk pace. Verden followed, silently cursing the tiefling's longer legs. "I don't want to lose myself. I don't want to end up spending my fucking life doing flower arrangements or tea parties or whatever Aerylle's got floating about in her brain-box."

"Y'know, you could always meet each other half-way." Verden suggested, even as she winced at the irony of that statement. She and Ithunn were about as different as Min and Aerylle, but the issue of their conflicting lifestyles was far from resolved. Which was precisely why, Verden decided, that it was so important to have that conversation with Min.

"I don't know..."

"Min," Verden said softly and the tiefling paused, intrigued by her friend's sudden change of tone. "when I said I can't let Ithunn go, it's 'cause whenever I ask myself what I always wanted, it was to have someone to take care of me. Now that Lady Luck, crazy bitch that she is, finally decided to give me what I wanted, I'm not going to turn it away. Remember when we were little and had to look for empty buildings to spend the night?"

"Yeah." Min smiled wryly. "I was the lucky one. I don't mind the cold. But even with two blankets and me to keep you warm, you always shivered."

"Well, you always used to say that one day you'd have your very own kip, with a soft bed and curtains so you could sleep all day. All that stuff, and a lot more too, is just a walk to the Clerk's Ward away."

***

Astrid had never felt happier. Never in her wildest dreams could she have imagined sitting on a pristine, white and gold upholstered couch in a small, but tastefully decorated elven apartment, passionately kissing the warm breath out of an impish, but effortlessly sensual half-elf. But that was precisely what was happening: Shesayne was lying against the arm-rest of Aerylle's couch, eyes closed as her lips parted wantonly for Astrid's questing tongue. The human mage's fingers cupped Shesayne's waist, gripping the firmness of the half-elven girl's flat little belly. Shesayne purred, her tongue locked in a frantic, hungry dance with Astrid's. The petite half-elf wrapped her arms around her lover's neck, drawing Astrid in closer. Aerylle was late coming back from the library, so Shesayne, as always, had found the best solution to pass the time.

"My rare beauty..." Astrid sighed, only for her lips to be re-captured by Shesayne's lusty mouth. But, in the young mage's eyes, Shesayne was elfin perfection in her wonderfully provocative crimson bandeau and matching culottes. Just running her fingers over the half-elf's smooth, slightly tan skin was sublime, filling Astrid's veins with liquid heat. So she sank into the kiss, gently easing herself on top of Shesayne as the half-elf began to sensually unlace her human lover's simple, but tastefully cut sky-blue blouse. "Are...are you sure about this?" Astrid inquired tentatively. It had only been a few days since Shesayne's captivity and it occurred to Astrid that the half-elf could still be a little uncomfortable with intimacy.

"Hmm..." Shesayne mused, pretending to think. "I don't know, my mother'll be home soon, and I'd hate to disappoint her...me being such a good girl and all." With a final, satisfied tug, she loosened Astrid's blouse and began to pull it off.

"Is life always this amusing for you?" the human mage teased as she lifted her arms to allow Shesayne to undress her.

"Nah, but since you've only got one, we might as well make the best of it, right?" the half-elf chimed playfully, finally satisfied as she contemplated Astrid's pert breasts, her pale skin sprinkled with just a light smattering of freckles. The human mage's nipples were taut, turgid berries, ready to be plucked, so Shesayne drew her lover closer and greeted her lips with an incandescent kiss. Astrid sighed in pleasure as she felt Shesayne's quick hands run up her firm flanks to cup her breasts. The impudent little half-elf's fingers had already set to work, gently trailing her fingernails over the human girl's nipples, teasing the rubbery peaks with light, irreverent flicks. Astrid whimpered as she felt warmth beginning to build in her loins, spurred on by the hungry work of Shesayne's tongue against hers. The young mage ran her fingers down Shesayne's waifishly slender body, desperately scrambling for the waistband of the half-elf's culottes. The material was soft, elven fabric, but underneath, Astrid felt moist warmth against her fingers and Shesayne's wonderful, simply outrageously perky bottom that the human mage was convinced could only be found in half-elves.

"Oh...Astrid..." Shesayne moaned, gently trailing her fingers over the heated, pliant surface of the mage's stiff nipples. "What if my mother catches us?"

"You'll probably get a good spanking." the human girl replied, her tone husky as she devoured Shesayne's lips.

"Wow, sounds like a win-win situation to me." came the lascivious quip. Astrid's hands cupped the firm globes of Shesayne's bottom, her fingers trailing down the tight crease as she began to pull down the half-elf's culottes.

Astrid felt Shesayne squirm under her, trying to wriggle out of the offending garment. The little half-elf was simply a bundle of pure eroticism that Astrid could not resist. With a growl, the human mage briskly interrupted their kiss, sat up to tug off Shesayne's ankle boots before pulling the half-elven girl's undergarment - for there was no other way to describe it - down to her ankles and then casting it carelessly aside. Shesayne giggled, smiling impishly at Astrid's mounting lust. She parted her thighs, treating the human mage to a delectable view of her glistening, pink sex. Astrid swallowed as knelt on the couch, staring in stunned admiration at Shesayne. It was not the first time she saw the half-elf naked, but Shesayne was absolutely irresistible on an elven couch with the naughty prospect of Aerylle walking in on them at any time.

Astrid's heart hammered in her chest, as Shesayne smiled and reached down to part the inner lips of her sex. The gesture was almost innocent - Shesayne made it seem so natural as she brought her own sex into full bloom, parting the silky folds of aroused flesh to reveal the entrance of her channel and the tiny, stiff bud of her clit. Astrid positioned herself between Shesayne's parted thighs and began to lower herself closer to her lover's fragrant sex.

"You know, it's strange," Astrid whispered. "I never thought I'd have a mystical experience exploring a half-elf's pussy...but yours...yours is the Flower of Life; I love it..." her tone was worshipful as she placed a single, reverent kiss on the apex of Shesayne's sex, drawing a satisfied sigh from the half-elf.

"Y'know what?" said Shesayne playfully, as she withdrew her fingers - slick with deliciously gooey, pearly fluid - from her sex to make way for Astrid's tongue. "So do I." With that, Shesayne wantonly suckled off the nectar from her fingers and licked her lips, all the while smiling suggestively at a mesmerised Astrid.

"By Mystra, you're a scrumptious wench..." Astrid sighed and began lapping in earnest at Shesayne's sex with such desire that even the petite half-elf was surprised. Overcome by raw passion, Astrid's tongue ran hungrily over the slick, inner folds of her half-elven lover's juicing pussy. The taste was divine: with that faintly sweet, floral quality of elves combined with the muskier, earthier flavours of a human woman. Astrid could have spent her life between Shesayne's thighs, feeling the half-elf squirm and hearing her coo softly in encouragement. Moving inexorably towards the very apex of Shesayne's sex, Astrid could feel the slender half-elf rolling her hips, inviting her human lover closer to the tumescent little gem of her clit. Shesayne shuddered as she felt the tip of Astrid's tongue graze the sensitive bud. She wound her fingers through the human mage's short, dark-blue hair, feeling its silkiness slide against her skin with each movement.

"Hey, Shesayne, how about something new?" Astrid suggested passionately, taking a moment to look up from the dewy petals of her lover's sex.

"Absolutely, totally and always behind you, treasure." Shesayne sighed. "Every day's a wonderful, never-knew-the-dark-of-that surprise with you."

"Just a moment." Astrid quickly dismounted from the couch and reached for the intricately-carved, copper scroll-case she normally carried slung around her hip. She rummaged inside and produced what appeared to be, for all intents and purposes, a long, pink, tulip bulb, about nine inches long, with a curved stem. The human mage then rejoined Shesayne on the couch. "Now this may feel a little odd...but you're an adaptable one, you'll catch on in no time." Sinking to her knees between Shesayne's thighs, Astrid slipped the tip of the tulip's bulb into the clinging, wet recesses of the half-elven girl's pussy. Shesayne gasped, her thighs tensed as she felt a rush of heat and sparkling electricity course through her loins and up her spine. Very carefully, Astrid began to slide the tulip in. The strange thing was, it felt as soft and pliant as a flower, yet effortlessly parted the half-elf's sodden channel, slipping in with consummate ease and curving, deliciously upwards, so when Astrid finally finished the insertion, Shesayne felt feather petals temptingly close to that most sensitive spot hidden deep inside her.

"You ready?" the human mage whispered. Shesayne took a deep breath and nodded. Lowering her face between Shesayne's thighs, Astrid used her free hand to spread the inner petals of the half-elf's sex. With the lightest of the touches, the mage began to lavish Shesayne's gorgeous clit with firm, affectionate licks. As she lapped, Astrid mentally bade the tulip-device to bloom. Very slowly, the petals of the tulip began to unfurl, imperceptibly at first, so that Shesayne's high-pitched, mewling gasps were in reaction to the eager tongue on her clit. Then Shesayne felt it, something deep in her sex that seemed to grow. It was silky soft, but firm as it began to press against the sensitive innermost flesh of her canal.

"Oh...fuck...Astrid!" Shesayne cried as she felt the petals begin to rotate inside of her, gently massaging the nexus of her pleasure, her Hanali's Heart. "Astrid...please!" the half-elf pleaded, wrapping her thighs around Astrid's head and drawing her closer. Smiling wolfishly, Astrid continued to lick despite Shesayne's relentless thrashing. The device sped up, Shesayne felt like she had died and gone to Arvandor. The wave of passion that was building in her loins was like a hungry, roiling primordial feminine ocean. Her body felt hot, flushed with heat and lust, her spine tingling with the painfully ecstatic sensations coming from deep inside her lust-inflamed pussy. The spinning inside her continued, like a thousand feathery caresses - that moment was frozen in time as Shesayne screwed her eyes shut and surrendered to a scintillating climax. Her thighs squeezed around Astrid's shoulders as her hips thrust upwards, spasming uncontrollably like her sex around the still-whirring device. Shesayne's peak lasted for what felt like an age, her breath frantic, nipples painfully stiff under the constraining fabric of her bandeau. The sparkling pleasure in her loins was almost painful, as if she needed to void something to get rid of that itching passion.

It was only when Astrid silently commanded the tulip to return to its original state that Shesayne whimpered and slumped back against the couch, panting in long, ragged breaths. She had never felt so satisfied in her life - perhaps a couple of times with Min, but it had been too long since she had experienced such an otherworldly climax. "Fuck...Astrid...marry me!" Shesayne gasped, her compact, but nicely rounded breasts rising and falling with each desperate breath. "That was Seventh Heaven, Elysium and Arborea good all rolled into one."

"Glad you liked it, my sweet little marvel." Astrid purred, carefully withdrawing the nectar-soaked tulip from Shesayne's sex and setting it on the cherry-wood table by the couch.

"Never, ever felt better." the half-elf sighed, stretching out on the couch. "My turn?"

"Hmm...thought you'd never ask." Astrid chuckled, swiftly tugging of her boots and skin-tight, dark-blue breeches. Finally naked, she helped Shesayne out of her bandeau and pressed her lips against the half-elf's. "You're special. The first woman I've met I'm not afraid to stay with." Astrid's admissions sounded almost like a confession as she trailed kisses down Shesayne's cheek, before gently planting a long, wet lick on the half-elven girl's delicately pointed ear.

Shesayne inhaled sharply, resting her head lovingly on Astrid's shoulder. "D'you want to stay with me?"

"Absolutely." Astrid whispered, trailing kisses on the sensitive surface of Shesayne's ear.

"Really?" Shesayne smiled lasciviously as she began to ease Astrid on her back. The human mage parted her thighs and raised her hips, revealing the steamy, musky heaven of her sex, crowned by a soft thatch of dark blue hair. "You aren't just saying that to get a poor, innocent, virginal half-elf into bed, are you?"

"Not a chance."

"Mmm, good..." Shesayne carefully parted the lust-slickened nether lips of Astrid's pussy and inhaled the rich scent of pure womanhood. Shesayne's tongue began to trail against the hot, wet flesh, filling the half-elf's mouth with the lovely flavour of musk with just a hint of feminine salinity. Astrid made herself comfortable on the plush cushions of the couch, raising her hips higher and holding her thighs open for Shesayne's sensually skilled little tongue.

The half-elf licked with ravishing precision, her tongue taking its time in exploring the fragrant delights of Astrid's sex, dancing across the nether lips just below the human girl's swollen clit, before teasingly moving back down. Astrid shivered as she felt the tip of Shesayne's tongue descend lower, to lavish the tightly-knotted rosebud of her bottom with a few firm, wet licks. The human mage tensed, toes curling in the air as she felt a dull, subtle pleasure spread from the sensitive star of her anus deep into her loins. Shesayne's technique was simply exquisite...

"Hi, Aerylle!" Shesayne chirped all of a sudden, quickly looking up from between Astrid's thighs.

The human girl blinked once, disbelieved and then heard the door close right behind her.

"Oh, my..." Aerylle sighed, discreetly stepping in, eyes averted as she set down a intricately woven, elven wicker basket full of groceries on the round living room table.

"Fuck...fuck, fuck, fuck." Astrid repeated, blushing a bright crimson as she threw herself off the couch and scrambled for her blouse, before remembering that the item in question was cut off at the midriff, a realisation that sent her rushing for her leggings. "I'm so, so sorry Aerylle. We got a tiny little bit carried away." Astrid did not dare look at the grey elf in the eyes, but instead hastened to pull up her breeches.

"Easy, easy." Aerylle chuckled softly. "I am hardly one to be offended. As a matter of fact, I find it lovely to see the two of you so passionate. Astrid, would you like to stay for dinner? I bought Shesayne's favourite - rosewater jelly and finger biscuits, but if that is a little insubstantial for you, I think I will also make a blueberry flan." The rosewater jelly had not been cheap, but Aerylle had decided that Shesayne needed a little pampering after her horrid little experience with Isolde. That and, in the absence of Min and the uncertainty the tiefling had caused in her emotional life, she was more than happy to have a little life around the house.

"Oh, these human girls are so prudish, puritan and downright bashful." Shesayne said, smiling playfully, as she reclined back on the couch, making no effort to cover up. "Elves are more comfortable with their bodies, right?"

"Yes." Aerylle said, with that schoolmistress like intonation that immediately told Shesayne that there was going to be a 'but'. "But, had my mother walked in on you, I suspect you would have done little to endear yourself to her. Elven ladies know what belongs in the bedchamber and what belongs in the drawing room..."

"What about the library, hmm?" Shesayne interrupted snidely.

"Oh...oh, dear, I...probably best start preparing dinner." Aerylle mumbled, blushing slightly as she began to unpack the basket of groceries. "Well," the elven librarian said, desperately trying to change the subject, "what a lovely tulip you brought, Astrid. I do not recall seeing any so large in Sigil..."

"No!" Astrid cried as Aerylle reached to pick up the pink bulb. "I mean...I really don't think you should...uhm, touch it."

"Oh? Why not?" the elven librarian pressed, curiously running her fingers over the tulip - she felt warm, sticky wetness. Taking a deep breath, Aerylle withdrew her hand started unpacking the hamper. "So this is what mages are crafting in Sigil nowadays. Thank you for the warning anyway. If you wish to freshen up Astrid, the bathing chamber is all yours."

The human mage nodded gratefully and slipped out, leaving a gloriously naked Shesayne to observe Aerylle's graceful movements as she withdrew the jar of rosewater jelly and a folded silk napkin full of biscuits.

"Sorry 'bout the tulip, but it was top-shelf, first-rate fantastic...you should try it yourself." Shesayne crowed, sitting up on the couch and secretly doing her best to cover up the broad, wet patch on the fabric that had soaked in quite a few stray droplets of the nectar of her arousal. "By the way, how was work?"

"Very well, thank you." Aerylle replied amiably, pleased to see Shesayne so concerned. "What about yourself?"

"Strange, weird and almost downright barmy. Min and Lily didn't turn up, so they took me from the retrievals shift and made me help out at reception."

"Oh? And how did that go?"

"Super!" said Shesayne effusively. "I don't know why, but we got quite a few customers. But what's up with Min? She's been away for a couple of days. And Lily? It was kind of lonely and boring out there without them."

"Min..." Aerylle sighed, closing the hamper and moving to the tiny kitchen cubicle on the side of the living room. "Min needs time to think. As for Lily, I simply have no idea." It still hurt Aerylle that even when Min had come to visit Shesayne after the half-elf had been rescued, she had left as soon as possible. From one moment to the other, the tiefling had absconded like the morning mist.

"You weren't telling the truth when you said you and Min had a fight again, were you?" Shesayne began, a little accusingly. She rose and slipped on Astrid's blouse, which was just enough to preserve her modesty.

"We did." Aerylle said softly, smiling gratefully as she felt Shesayne's arms suddenly wrap around her waist. "What I never said was that I told Min that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her and she said she needed time to think about it. Which, I suppose, was the reason why I was late. On my way back from the Library, I brought an offering of flowers to the Temple of Hanali. I only wish the Blessed Lady Goldheart would welcome my prayers." With a swift, twisting motion, Aerylle managed to open the jar of rosewater jelly.

"Min loves you, Aerylle." Shesayne whispered, burying her face in the grey elven woman's lightly perfumed, golden-blonde tresses. "I think she'll always come back for you...she always came back for me and I knew it in my heart. Min's like a big sister and a best friend for me and I don't reckon there's anything in the 'Verse that could separate us, but what she's got with you - that's like it was just meant to be. I think Lady Luck made you leave Imej just so you could find Min that exact same night her contact didn't show up and you were lonely and depressed at the tavern. But you've got to be patient with her, when she loves - she loves you so much that it hurts her to say it...but you can see it in her eyes, she'll always be back."

"Thank you, Shesayne." Aerylle whispered, swiftly blinking back a tear. "Maybe you should go help Astrid out while I finish in the kitchen." The elven librarian forced a wan smile.

"I know Min." the half-elf said with a certainty that Aerylle found deeply comforting. "I know Min and she's never, ever, ever disappointed someone she loves. I swear there wasn't a single thing she wouldn't have done for me...fuck, she risked her life to steal me a stupid, dragon-turtle comb when we were kids just to see me smile and steal a kiss. If there's one thing I know 'bout Min, it's that she's always there, exactly when you need her the most."

***

Shesayne sat curled up on the couch, her white satin night-gown pooled at her knees. In the dim lamplight, she did her best to read a few translated elven poems, just to get a feel for the written word. Aerylle's infectious love of books had rubbed off on her, so Shesayne had resolved to try to read a little every night, first translated into Sigil's lingua franca and, hopefully, one day in the original Moon Elven. That was a language she knew by speech - but only colloquially, the elegant calligraphy of the Moon Elf script was like incoherent scribbling to her untrained eye. Still, there was something strangely pleasurable about sitting in a darkened living room, in complete silence with only a book to occupy her mind.

In the end, the dinner had gone better than expected. Shesayne's words of comfort had lifted Aerylle's spirits. The grey elven maiden had smiled, joked and warmly complimented Astrid on her rapidly improving skills in the various elven languages she was learning. Then, pleading exhaustion, Aerylle had withdrawn to bed while Astrid had kindly volunteered to clear the dinner table. So it was that Shesayne relaxed with the soft sound of Astrid humming as she dried the dishes in the background.

"So take me, fair Moon," Shesayne whispered to herself - reading aloud always helped her make her way through the dense text, "crescent as the sword at my night-haired lover's hip. She em...embraces me and I no longer fear the pr...pre...ci..."

"The precipice of lonely nights stared down into bottomless chasms," Astrid whispered softly, settling down by Shesayne's side and planting an affectionate kiss on the half-elf's coal-black hair.

"For she is the silvery light that guides my hand in darkness, and stills the fearful beat of my heart with soft kisses between my breasts." Shesayne concluded, snuggling closer into Astrid's embrace.

"It's lovely, isn't it." Astrid said sotto voce, wrapping her arms around Shesayne and drawing the slender half-elf closer. "Her lover is like the moon that guides her in the darkness. No matter how menacing the night, she can't be afraid, because her lover is a mighty ranger, whose sword cleaves through the blackness."

"Yeah, I s'pose it's times like these that I almost, just barely wish I paid a little more attention in school." Shesayne confessed, comforted by the comforting rhythm of Astrid's heartbeat and by the human girl's sweet, slightly spicy perfume.

"Shesayne, it's getting late and, as much as I'd love to stay, I'd better go. I guess it's ironic, because all I've got on my mind now is the moon, and Sigil doesn't have any. Oh well, I think the poetess didn't have a literal moon in mind when she wrote that. But you never know, making love in a forest glade by moonlight is like being born anew. 'Course, your mother was moon elf and you..."

"Astrid, stay."

"Since when do you interrupt in two-word sentences?" Astrid said in jest.

"I don't know." Shesayne shrugged. "I just get the feeling that you understand me. You always listen to what I say and not what you think I'm saying."

"I still don't know if I should stay - I wouldn't want to offend the mistress of the house..."

"Aw, c'mon, don't be such a leatherhead," Shesayne chided playfully, "she likes you. And by the way, I've noticed how you're so much more uptight about everything when you're around her..."

"Well, I'm very much in awe of elven culture, thank you very much." Astrid replied defensively. "I'd really hate to be mistaken for a crude human."

"That's a strange-odd coincidence," Shesayne said with a broad smile, "I'd really hate to be mistaken for a slutty half-elf."

"You sure about that?" the human mage probed, tentatively running her fingers up the hem of Shesayne's night-gown.

"It all depends if you're staying or not."

"Well, my rare beauty, feel free to fetch me a night-gown then." Astrid conceded, feigning reluctance.

"Wrong, wrong and wrong again." Shesayne chimed, as she shifted into a kneeling position and ran her tongue lasciviously over Astrid's soft, pink lips. "You won't be needing one...slutty half-elf time begins now..."

***

Aerylle awoke with daybreak just a few moments away. The dark blue early Sigil morning flooded her chamber with an almost enchanted glow - as if she were still mired in a soft, silent dreamscape. Her bed felt cold. She missed the subtle incense smell of Min's skin and her silky, ember-red hair. She missed Shesayne's squirming and gentle murmuring, the way the impish half-elf purred in quiet satisfaction during an early morning cuddle.

- Shesayne? - Aerylle thought, sitting up with a start. The space next to her was empty. Dismounting groggily from the bed, Aerylle opened the window and found her bedroom assailed by a gust of cold, morning air. She shivered, her toes digging into the soft carpet beneath her. Very quietly, she made her way out in the living room, closing the door soundlessly behind her. Silence filled her tiny, but well-tended apartment. Astrid lay naked on the couch, covered up by a blanket, elegantly embroidered with a dark blue elven floral theme. Resolving to find Shesayne, Aerylle padded towards the kitchen. Sure enough, the half-elf stood naked, peering out of the open window onto the streets below. Sigil was strangely beautiful at that time of day. Its buildings with their dark wood, smoke-stained stone and slate roofs assumed an strangely elegant bluish glow by the early morning's light. Smoke had already began to appear in the distance as the great fires were lit in the foundries and inns that dotted the city.

"Goddess, Shesayne, you will catch your death." Aerylle said, a little groggily as she gently tugged the half-elf away from the window and closed it. "Look at you, child, you are shivering like an autumn leaf." She wrapped her arms around Shesayne, drawing her into a warm embrace. The half-elven girl's skin was cold, but Aerylle felt something warm and moist against her breasts. "Shesayne, my treasure, why...why are you weeping?"

"I'm sorry, Aerylle...sometimes, I'm afraid to sleep." Shesayne whimpered quietly, burying her face closer to the comforting warmth of Aerylle's soft breasts. "I got up 'cause I didn't want to wake Astrid...she shouldn't know..."

"Know what, child?" Aerylle cooed, lovingly stroking the half-elf's raven-black hair.

"As hard as I try to forget it, that Isolde bitch...she's in my mind. She haunts me when I sleep and makes me remember it all over again - in my dreams, I'm still in that room with the lights in my face and..." Shesayne's narration was drowned out by sobbing. Not the usual girlish, theatrical sobbing, but something deep and visceral.

"Hush...come now. You need a warm bath and some clothes. Remember, you are safe here. You have friends who will make sure that no harm will come to you."

Shesayne's sobs soon began to die down under Aerylle's soft caress. There was something immensely reassuring and lovingly gentle about the grey elf's embrace that Shesayne could simply no longer weep. It made no sense to cry when she felt so safe, so at peace.

"She - Isolde - she'll keep coming." Shesayne blurted. "And even if she doesn't come for me one day, there's plenty of other Isoldes out there...sod it, Aerylle, there are things out there who just want to see you suffer. Isolde didn't rape, she didn't make me lick her out: I didn't have anything she wanted, nothing at all. She just thought it was fun to kick me, watch me cry, watch me wet myself - and I'd been crying so hard I just wanted a fucking cup of water and she said that there was the all the water my kind deserved...and..."

"Hush...let the Moonbow of the Mother Goddess, your namesake, light your way. Prove that you are stronger than Isolde. I, for one, could not be more proud of you, Syldarina." Aerylle said reverently, using the most intimate and affectionate term possible in Grey Elven for a younger sister.

"You're right," Shesayne said with grim determination, pressing an affectionate kiss into Aerylle's breast, "enough running: I have to visit my mother and make peace with Marséna.”

What Shesayne neglected to mention, however – for she herself could make no sense of it, was that her dream had not really been about Isolde at all. In her mind, she had been in a dark lake of something, salty and viscous, lying on a wet, unpleasantly fleshy surface. In the distance, cries, moans and whispered voices in unspeakable languages filled the air and, before her, something towered. Tall, gaunt, its eyes blazing – sometimes it had the countenance of a demon-dog and sometimes, something so hideously blasphemous that Shesayne could not find words or even images to describe it.