Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Author: SmilingWithSin
Title: SmilingFantasies - Destined Part 1
Part: Chapter 1
Universe: Destined
Summary: When dreams fortell the future and gods dip their hands into
the world of men,

   can one defy one's destiny?  Keywords: M/f, M/g, ped, no sex, magic

   Destined

   This is a story that I began with a dear friend of mine some time ago.
It originally was a storyline that we developed for online role-playing. 
It was never finished, or really even got as far as we might have liked. 
Since then events caused us to lose touch with each other.  This is just
one of many stories that we began, but never really finished, that I'd like
to complete.  Even though I know she isn't likely to ever actually read
this, I'd like to think that at the very least, she knows that I still
think fondly of her and wish her the best in her life.  I always have.

   This story has a lot to do with domination, and ownership.  There is a
great deal of mental stimulation that I hope to create within the context
of the story.  I hope that you enjoy it.

   Chapter 1 - Darkest Dreams

   The deepest chill clung to the air like a dying hand, seeking to drag
some helpless soul to the pits of the abyss.  Everything was so very cold
that night.  Tucked inside of the highest peak of the Tarjian mountain
range stood the brooding Faryule Monastery.  Deep within it's hallowed
halls she was brought.  The High Priestess of Faryule, God of Life, was
known to but a few as the keeper of the God's Will.  Her real name,
Crystalia was a testament to her beauty.  Neither too tall, nor to short
she stood lithe and radiant.  Her figure was slender, soft as a pampered
princess.  The thin muslin that covered her form clung to her so well that
were it not for her station she might draw the looks of many drunken men.
Her face was soft, round and beautiful.  Hair, black as the deepest night
hung straight from the top of her crown to dangle at her waist.  It flowed
like water over her shoulders and positively gleamed in the light of the
sun or the pale moonlight that so blessed the high mountain range.

   The Glorious Goddess, as the masses chanted during her sermons, stood
pale against the night.  The bitter chill of the mountains caused her to
shiver.  Soft, emerald gaze looked down over the valleys below.  He was
coming for her tonight.  Though the monks had sought to protect her,
through all of the turbulence in this world, He still came.  The vision
that was given to her left no doubt in her mind, and her purpose was clear
to her now.  The sagely wisdom of the monks would mean their deaths, on
this savage mountaintop.  She was the hope of her people, a guiding light
against the heathen Nomads that now ravaged the lands.  So desperate were
they to protect her, that they would sacrifice themselves in the attempt.

   A dull red gleam in the far off sky silhouetted the mountains against
its eerie glow.  In her heart, the Priestess knew that her people, her city
was already dead.  Ravaged and raped by the fierceness of the Nomads.  And
yet He still came for her.  Another shudder ran up along her back, though
it wasn't one of fear.  She had accepted her fate, even relished it in her
darkest dreams.  He had a lust, a power that rivaled that of the Gods. 
Only once had she felt such a powerful presence, when she had been crowned
High Priestess and the God, Faryule came to her.  He hinted at her future
in his message, but she did not head it, so full of self-righteous belief
in her cause.  She was the Guardian of her people.  And now He was coming
for her.

   Far below, in the valley beneath the Monastery, a golden-red snake wound
it's way up twisting, snow filled paths to the summit.  Five wide and a
thousand long, the snake slithered ever closer to its prize.  Her heart
skipped for a moment in her chest.  She could not see, but she could feel.
At its head, the great snake was lead by Him.  The sounds of its hissing
rose up into the mountains like a chorus.  And behind her she felt the hot
gust, as the door to her chambers was thrown open.  "Highness!  They come!
You must flee to the sanctuary of the temple." But the sight below
transfixed her, amid the thousands He stood out like a beacon.  There was
no torch in His hand, no banner to mark His passage.  But He rode ahead,
proudly, defiantly, and with purpose.  He was coming for her.

   At last the Goddess tore her gaze away, feeling herself being ushered
from her chambers into the warmth of the Monastery.  The terrible feeling
of her Destiny fell upon her, moved as she was through the maze of
passages. When they came to the temple, she looked up with amusement at the
altar and statue of her God.  The monks prayed desperately for protection,
though the Head of their Order knew none would come.  The Priestess knelt,
as was expected, before the altar, and gave her prayers, her blessings. 
She called down the fury of Faryule upon the attackers that would desecrate
the temple.  In her heart she knew it was all hollow and meaningless.  He
was coming for her.

   A tremendous crash tore through the halls, and the sounds of battle
drove their way through the passageways and halls of the Monastery. 
Desperate and fanatical, the monks fought for their very lives against the
onslaught of the Nomads.  So lost in their fervent beliefs, they failed to
see the inevitability of defeat.  The prayers rose to a fevered pitch, sobs
breaking amidst the terrible cries of death that began to surround them. 
Statues were smashed and looted, fabric and foodstuffs horded away by the
invaders.  And her voice rose highest, calling out to Faryule for guidance
and protection.  "I am here, my Lord!  Your Priestess calls out to you! 
Bring her Destiny to bear and protect Your people!  He comes for me!" In
her heart, she knew no answer was coming.  In her soul she knew her fate,
amidst her dying brethren.  With barely a nod, she freed the monks around
her to rush to their deaths.  Grabbing anything and everything to defend
their Priestess, they aligned themselves against the oncoming hordes.

   Bursting through the temple gate, the Nomads poured into the temple. 
Offerings were knocked aside and chairs overturned, the crude men of the
plains made their presence known.  Death came swiftly to the monks,
unaccustomed to fighting, but they fought valiantly.  The Nomads cut them
down, before advancing upon the Priestess.  These were not the men who
would claim her.  Raising her hands high, she cast the first wave down with
a blast of holy power.  The jingle of her staff was followed by a terrible
crack; a blazing bolt of sacred flame consumed the next group that came
upon her.  "I am not for you, heathens!"

   The bodies burned as leaves in her wake, but still they pressed on. 
Until in a moment they all stopped, and fell away at His coming.  The sight
of Him, so close to her now, brought a wail of despair from the depths of
her soul.  Her Destiny was upon her at last.  His lieutenant stood at his
side, a bold, proud man in his own right.  But He was the focus of those
emerald eyes.  She raised her staff in a desperate attempt to strike Him
down as she had done the others, but she faltered.  He advanced upon her,
indescribable in his magnificence.  Again she raised her staff against Him,
and once more her hands trembled.  He stood before her now.  When He spoke,
she trembled at His dominance, "I have come for you, Crystalia, High
Priestess of Fayrule.  You are mine."

   And all the world fell away.  You are mine.  She awoke in a hot sweat,
the words burning in her ears.  Lisandra, witch of the east villages, lay
trembling in her bed.  For the seventh time the dream had come to her, each
time more was revealed.  The Western kingdoms were far away, and the domain
of the God Fayrule.  But here, the Goddess ruled.  She had no other name,
but Lisandra was one of her dutiful servants.  A witch of the eastern
villages, she served to protect her people, to guide them through harsh
winters, heal their sick, and pray for verdant fields come harvest time. 
The darkness that enveloped her in those dreams left her shivering, even in
the warmth of the summer night.  Curling further into her blankets, her
golden tresses fell around her in a shimmering wave.  Deep, violet eyes,
the mark of a witch, stared out into the night.  She had not been a witch
for long, in training only fifteen years, from the day of her birth.  Her
mother had passed away the previous winter, leaving her a foreboding
message.  He comes for you.  Whoever this man was, He was a force to be
reckoned with.  But something in those dreams was intoxicating.  It left
her burning with passion, with desire.  Sweat poured from her skin, quickly
chilling her in the night air once she awoke.  There was something in His
power that touched something deep within her core.  A dark part of her
waited expectantly for Him to come.  While another part cried out against
Him as a monstrosity.  She shivered again, content to curl into her
blankets, as the heat from the nightmare slipped away.  Her soft violet
gaze fell upon the young girl who slept in the cot beside her.  A lonesome
child, with no family, all lost in the terrible winter of the year before.
Lisandra had taken her in, desperate to shelter the frightened girl in the
darkest hours of her life.  Her name was Kailya, a bright girl of eleven
tender years.  Inside her heart, she knew that He was indeed coming for
her. Her mother's lessons taught her to revere the power of her dreams. 
For her, they were not visions of fancy, but glimpses into important
events. She had predicted many happenings to her village, which gratefully
accepted her guidance and wisdom, despite her tender age.  She was not
simply a young woman, for life had hardened her into a sage of sorts. 
However, she still retained the beauty of youth.  Lithe and nubile, she was
the eager target of many young men's affections.  But her mother had warned
her against such indiscretions, telling her that her life belonged to the
Goddess, and it would be She that told her of the one she belonged to.  A
soft sigh left her lips, as she settled once more into her bed.  Lisandra's
eyes drifted closed.  With silent resolve, she vowed to defend her village
against Him and His armies should they come.  As she began to drift into a
restless sleep, her dreams began again.  But it was different than before.
A dark abyss surrounded Lisandra, her violet eyes cast about in a desperate
attempt to find her location.  But she was lost, adrift in an endless sea
of darkness.  A moment later a presence touched her heart.  It was familiar
and loving, full of the kindness of a mother and the power of a God.  With
a soft gasp, her mind came to realize that she was indeed in Her presence.
The Goddess filled her mind with her power for just an instant, before she
spoke to her servant.  "My child, you are indeed the one I have been
seeking.  For so long, your mother hid your presence from me, in a
desperate attempt to shield you from my eyes.  I do not blame her, but the
time has come for you to learn of your fate.  Your power is unrivaled.  I
have granted this, your birthright, so that your Destiny will be
fulfilled." A soft gasp left her throat, and Lisandra moved to speak. 
However the voice of her Goddess cut her off abruptly, "I know all of your
questions, my child.  But I have come to speak, not to be questioned.  Your
purpose is great, as is the One that you are bound to.  As much as your
mother hid you from me, so she protected you from Him as well.  But now He
comes for you, and nothing will stand in His way." Lisandra trembled at
that.  To belong to one that killed without remorse was unfathomable to
her. "I sense your anger, for you do not know Him, and He seems to
slaughter all without mercy.  It is true that He cleanses the land with his
armies, but His purpose is much greater.  Through Him, all will fall away
and the world will be reborn under His hand.  He senses this great purpose,
but even We do not know where He will lead the world.  He comes for you,
Lisandra." And suddenly the dream ended, as abruptly as it began.  Lisandra
awoke to the sounds of birds chirping happily outside of her window.  The
loud clanking of cookware forced her to open her eyes, which settled upon
Kailya, still dressed in her nightgown, busily making breakfast.  A sudden
longing filled her heart, as she watched the young girl working without a
care.  She could never allow any harm to come to this village.  Destiny and
purpose had no place for her; she would fight to the death to keep her
loved ones safe.  "Kailya, good morning.  I'm glad to see that you're awake
and busy so early this morning." Her voice was like the tinkling of bells
in the cool morning air.  The young girl giggled softly, "Thank you Miss
Lisandra.  I'm glad that you are awake too.  Did you sleep well?" "I slept
quiet well, thank you," she lied, "And you slept well too?" "I had the
strangest dreams.  I saw a man, riding on a horse.  He was big, and strong,
much bigger than the men in the village.  But he rode right up to me, and
scooped me up and rode off.  It was funny, but that was all that there was
in the dream.  Isn't that strange?" Kailya smiled brightly, before
returning to her task, trying carefully not to burn the eggs she was
cooking.  Lisandra's face grew grave, and she tried her best to simply
shake off the feeling of dread that filled the pit of her stomach.  Smiling
faintly, she spoke again, "Yes...that is strange." Kailya flashed her
another smile, innocently scooping up the eggs and laying them out on two
earthenware plates.  Hurrying over to Lisandra, she offered it with a
little giggle.  Accepting the offered breakfast, Lisandra slowly picked at
the meal.  Lost in her thoughts, recalling the intensity of both visions
the night before.

   The little girl shifted slightly at her bedside, before settling beside
her.  "Miss Lisandra, something is bothering you.  I can tell.  Your eyes
always get so sad.  You had another bad dream, didn't you?"

   Tugging at the corner of her lips was a small smirk.  Lisandra nodded to
her ward, speaking softly in that musical voice of hers.  "Yes, I did.  But
don't you worry; it is just a simple thing.  It troubles me, but it will
pass, and our little village will go on." Her smile was faint, and remote.
The meal seemed to lose her interest, rather her violet gaze turned to the
soft purple hue of the distant mountains.  Staring out over them a sudden
shiver ran up her spine.  That same presence made itself known to her.  His
presence.  It was remote, and far away.  But she felt even now that it
hurried towards her homeland.

   Kailya hungrily finished off her own meal, the plate set aside on the
blankets.  "Miss Lisandra, may I ask question?"

   "Of course, Kailya.  You can ask me anything that you wish."

   "In my dream...the man that I saw.  He wanted something.  He wanted me.
Do you think he might be a relative?  Or maybe even my future husband?" She
smiled at the last question, the soft excitement in her voice made her
personal wishes known.  Lisandra brushed an errant strand of her brown hair
from her eyes.

   "Maybe, Kailya.  Dreams are indistinct.  But it seems to me that if he
wanted you, then he probably loves you." That made the little girl smile.

   "Thank you, Miss Lisandra.  You are so wise.  When I look at you, you
seem like an ancient soul, trapped in the body of a sister." She giggled at
that.  Often she thought of Lisandra as an older sister.  And the witch
allowed it.  In her own heart, Lisandra knew that she was indeed old, her
mind having experienced planes of existence unknown to all but a select few
in the world.

   "Well, we've been idle too long.  Look!  The sun is already well in the
sky.  We've got lots of work to do today, Kailya.  So get dressed in your
gardening clothes.  It's time to plant the summer vegetables!" Kailya
giggled, and hurried off, taking both plates to be washed.  Lisandra sat,
staring at the mountains for a moment longer, before a soft sigh left her
lips.  He was coming for her.

   Contact me at smilingwithsin@gmail.com.  If you're interested in helping
me to edit my stories, please let me know.