Cyrene spent the day pampered. The novelty of those extra attentions soon wore off, leaving her craving to stretch her legs and get a bit of blood pumping through her well-rested frame. But Urganza insisted, begged and inserted herself in her privacy. Even Antilorwe acquiesced to Urganza, or rather she convinced Cyrene to entertain the orc while she worked out other pressing issues. Cyrene, not a stranger to diplomacy though not a player herself, realised it as the High-elf's manner of convincing her.
That night, Cyrene's heart pounded restlessly, almost exhilarated when Antilorwe placed the suggestion to move into her bedroom -- all three together. Though the Lady of the Manor placed it as an option to be discussed, both Cyrene and Urganza were eagerly willing. When Cyrene woke up with Antilorwe atop her, mouth of hers, Cyrene was certain they both longed and made a move for a threesome in her sleep. Perhaps, it was fear of her weak constitution that made them abandon their attempt and simply settle for holding her warmth during the restless night. And Cyrene, both longed and enjoyed every moment of it. To indulge with the bedazzling Elf and the caring Orc.
Cyrene felt almost lecherous -- almost. Allowing her lips to be explored by Antilorwe with Urganza's finger's prodding her orifices during those sinful moments, made her slender frame twitch achingly in ways she never thought possible. Then, Urganza turned, laying toned-granite muscles possessively over Cyrene. They moved so gently, tenderly.....Cyrene shivered uncontrollably when Antilorwe claimed Urganza's lips, surrendering once more to both. Cyrene felt so very wrong and yet such pure ecstasy.
The tiny moments spend worshipping each other only enhanced the desires and the tightness of an anticipatory exploration to occur. By the morning of the second day, she could hold no more. It was sheer torment, to have them both, feel their kisses, those gentle touches and not to indulge any further. The day passed slowly with Antilorwe being attentive and full of care while Urganza followed suit, being nurturing and almost strangely maternal. They spend the day leisurely talking, accompanied by plenty of wine and tea -- often whispering lewdly about scandalous acts to perform, during the night. Their favourite things to try, parts to explore. Each made Cyrene painfully aware of her own innocence. On the first light of those ideas, Cyrene would have dismissed them as too salacious, but now that the seeds were planted in her and with her two eager lovers involved, she found the will to resist faltering.
Cyrene could only dream of them doing them now, letting herself go wild while the tall temptress held her closely, letting the powerful warrioress satisfy her ravishment, stifling her desires and savouring every sound of her voice -- whispering teasing encouragement in both orcish and elven tongue.
Cyrene watched Urganza gaze at Antilorwe hungrily, eyes narrowed into slits. She wore that knowing smirk that made Cyrene's own core slightly shudder, before turning away, placing kisses across Antilorwe's cheek, chest and throat with a subtle promise to return later.
"So could we again try? tonight?" Cyrene could conjure no barrier against the spell that was temptation. Those soft cheeks, that willowy figure and her hot hips, left Cyrene aroused and desperate. The sight of being ravaged by both soft hands and callous battle-worn palms, imagining her soft, beautiful body, writhing beneath send Cyrene spiralling down into fantasies of obscene decadence.
"Sweet Enchantress, you are still recuperating," said Urganza, "Such acts can wait."
"Sugarplum, you were overwhelmed the last time, perhaps it would be prudent to tip your toes first," advised Antilorwe.
None of those were the words that excited Cyrene. Her sense overloaded, feeling how her tight little passage would gush under Antilorwe's possession, sent waves of pleasure running through her spine. The true pleasure was in sharing with someone equally excited and wanting to be with her. Desperate and hungry, Cyrene shrouded herself with a thin veil of modesty as she asked in a coy tone, "But both of you promised to enrapture me that way."
Both looked at her differently now, cocky smiles from Antilorwe, and smouldering need in Urganza's almost bright golden-laced amber eyes.
"Enrapture," repeated Antilorwe. Her tone made the meaning sound almost mischievous and scandalous. "That is a curious choice of words, Cyrene."
"Is it? Perhaps, I am just exploring, having my long-slumbering desires rubbed in delicious decadence," retorted the girl, twisting her lips at both in a provocative smile. Her delicate, slightly upturned nose barely suggested lust and she caught Antilorwe exchanging stolen glances with Urganza. The powerfully built warrioress seemed hesitant, biting down her lower lip, gaze flickering back to Cyrene. There was something unsettling about the way Antilorwe smirked back and Cyrene sensed a plan in the making.
A small smile tugged at Antilorwe's plump lips. "I am tempted to think, in fact, the term decadent describes your state quite well, Cyrene."
A word that Cyrene knew to be appropriate. She was aroused beyond sanity, burning alive with desire for a battle-weary warrior and a lustful elf.
"The fact is I made a promise and I would not miss seeing the adorable expressions on your face when we endeavour to fill you with our promise," Antilorwe added in another tone -- deeper and more seductive.
At first, Cyrene attributed it to the disdain of the maid, upon discovering her plate at the table filled with fibre-rich food. When Antilorwe encouraged Cyrene to enjoy her meal without batting an eyelid, it was evident that the elf harboured something impish. It did not take Urganza long to catch on, though Cyrene still remained oblivious. Antilorwe, would play the little trickster, using innuendo and suggestive hints, but never clear answers. The cunning elf loved to bask in the adorable look of innocence on Cyrene and so easily achieved her purpose of subtly enticing Cyrene into heat and leaving her dangling with her arousal to cope.
Finally, after two days of strange diet and stolen kisses from both her lovers, leading her to want more, Cyrene could hold it no more. Especially when she noticed the rich green skin of Urganza shimmering in the small pond as the Orc stripped for her cleansing ritual. Never one to feel comfortable inside stoned walls, Urganza insisted on bathing under the warm sun, an obnoxious attitude that Cyrene was grateful for.
She knocked on Antilorwe's chambers and after giving a few moments for Antilorwe to prepare, she barged in. "Antilorwe, Urganza is irresistibly tempting in the pool, with her exposed sinewy back and toned muscles and within these isolated walls, modesty holds less value. So would you care to join?"
"Go ahead Sugarplum, it would take me a moment to get the preparations done?"
"For?" asked Cyrene. Only a secret smile twitched at the corner of Cyrene's mouth when Antilorwe told her to keep imagining the sensation of something slick and penetrative plunging into her -- ass first.
The clear waters of the pool did very little to hide Urganza's perfection. A near flawless profile and chiselled body. Her glorious form showed off naturally, with arms and shoulders made from forged iron. The gorgeous orc sat up in the water, the rich silk-like lustre in the skin of her hips shimmering under the cerulean blue sky. Her smooth rippled abs followed a nearly perfect physique to a broad waist and wider flared hips that emanated a heavenly allure to any who were graced enough to gaze upon them. But what caught Cyrene's eyes was the fire in her eyes and the warmth in her smile as Urganza noticed her approach. Those creases running from above her mouth, adorned by pearly droplets of water, made Cyrene ache.
Reaching Urganza closer, Cyrene struggled to keep her eyes from those glorious playful globes. Padded butt and delectable hips wrapped in nothing but dripping skin. As Cyrene drew near, Urganza's inviting smile faded, making her strangely aware of her own skin. This close to her, Cyrene could smell the sweet fragrance of honeysuckle on her. Every nerve ending in Cyrene sparkled in delight.
Freeing her feet from the confines of her shoes, she lowered herself to the edge of the pool, letting the cool waters from Urganza kiss the space between her tiny toes, tickling her. Mischievously, raising her feet, she traced curves along the exposed naked skin of Urganza's shoulders, all the way to her throat and slightly lower. Wriggling her big toe, a coy smile dancing on her eager face, Cyrene beckoned the willing Urganza. Soon, she was rewarded for her efforts with the wet embrace of Urganza. The coolness of the water, was a stark contrast to the hot kisses of Urganza. The warrioress's own flesh, so heated that Cyrene pondered if steam would rise from it.
The long flowing robes, hiding all of Cyrene's natural beauty beneath, soon discarded in a messy pile to allow for the ravishing attempts of Urganza's tongue. The wicked sharp tusks sending shivers through Cyrene. Their torsos pressed together as Urganza claimed her mouth, tongues grappling wildly as she struggled desperately to prevent herself from being consumed. When the strong fingers wrapped around Cyrene's waist, she knew she would have trouble holding back, especially when her girl shaft felt the rippling of Urganza's abdomen. It took all of Cyrene's will to hold herself from falling, fighting every sliver of the Urganza's lust coursing through her. Yet her body failed in the end, responding without thought, and limbs gave away when she felt the eager suckle of her lover. Only strong skilled fingers of Urganza held Cyrene's body in the water, preventing her from flailing her limbs or thrusting her thighs apart to meet the will of the Orc.
With lightning sensations racing through her nerves, Cyrene leaned sinking her teeth into the supple inviting skin of Urganza's shoulders. Feeling the warrioress shudder, a kiss of blood mingled with the glistening pools of her partner. Her silken soft nails dug into the exquisite curve of Urganza's neck, feeling the pulsing of her wanton-craving heart. Urganza's soft moan made Cyrene's whole body tremble in response.
"Sorry, I got a bit carried away," said Cyrene apologetically as the realization of her pleasure-fueled act struck her.
"Sweetling Enchantress, your teeth are almost feathered. Fulfil your fantasy, my body is robust," cajoled Urganza rubbing her sensitive ears with her fingertips.
Smiling, encouraged, Cyrene leaned forward, more, with a confident gleam in her eyes. Gliding her palms down Urganza's body as she cupped her lush breasts and her pink coral lips pressed teasingly into her lover's throat. Sharp claws cut mercilessly into Cyrene's spin, seeking her hardness. With her other hand, Urganza grabbed Cyrene's plump asscheeks, squeezing until the point where Cyrene could no longer control herself -- again. Squirming, the girl enchantress bent low, bending her entire torso forward, forcing Urganza's extended fingers to prod open that lavishly perfect slit between her ass.
Shuddering at the delicious touch of firm fingers parting her rear eagerly -- multiple hands attempted to pry open her tight starlet hole. Cyrene turned to the cool shadow of Antilorwe falling over the two of them. Antilorwe's unconcealed expression of lewd delight only served to increase the maddening rush inside Cyrene. Fingers, both callous and soft alternated in tandem and pressed hard as both lovers forced her to loosen.
Closing her eyes to her overwhelming sensations, hands shaking with exertion, Cyrene found herself lifted up onto her knees by Urganza. Unable to move any further, the girl clutched tightly to the gently swaying motion of the powerful warrioress cradling her. Only the cooing words of Antilorwe held her to her senses. Finally, Urganza, gently laid Cyrene on the spot indicated by Antilorwe; adjusting the girl, pulling her knees, and tucking them around. Urganza effortlessly forced Cyrene's ass up, vulnerable and her pink hole exposed for the visual delight of Antilorwe.
With practised fingers, Urganza gripped Cyrene's buttcheeks, spreading them to allow the slick fingers of Antilorwe to explore her twitching starlet hole. Her firm hands grasped Cyrene's silken ass, almost tearing, thumbs pressing downward edging close to her channel. Unable to stay still, Cyrene shifted around, spreading her thighs apart, and invited Antilorwe to delve deeper. Straining, she struggled against Antilorwe's velvety fingers easing down -- deeper she went -- fucking her. Gaining space little by little, her digits snaked their way deeper. Cyrene tried shifting her hips, matching the pace of Antilorwe, meeting her thrusts, a perfect harmony of actions repeated, moving in and out. Cyrene felt her rear muscles tighten around the probing elven fingers, creating exquisite amounts of pleasure from her dripping hole.
"She is still tight," said Antilorwe frustrated, "Sugarplum, relax a bit."
"For what?" Cyrene twisted her head from her awkward position and her dazzling eyes widened in maddening glee at what Antilorwe indicated beside her
Hot pink, curvy and smooth, and much smaller than the one that Urganza used on Antilorwe, the toy organ glistened, its allure enhanced by the sunlight reflected from the shallow waters of the pool.
"So who will take me?" asked Cyrene, words slurring with eager anticipation.
Ignoring to address Cyrene directly, Antilorwe exchanged a knowing glance with Urganza. "Let me do it. The thrust from your hips is too powerful." Sending a salaciously promising smile at Cyrene, Antilorwe continued. "We don't want to break our Sugarplum's cute little butt, do we?"
Seeing the neediness of the young girl, Urganza nodded a silent and knowing smile.
Giving a hint of gratitude to Urganza for allowing her the first honour of their union, Antilorwe sent a sexy smile at both her lovers. Smirking, she began to strip, while her honeyed voice flew, drunk with delight on taking Cyrene's virgin canal. "Urganza, she is still stiff and tight, can you relax her canal a bit."
Cautiously leaning, Cyrene felt Urganza lower with her smouldering amber eyes narrowed. Those heavenly promising amethyst lips sucked into her starfish opening. Urganza's breath filled Cyrene's innermost senses as her tongue grazed the delicate girl's small receptive hole. Wet ripples flowed along the bottom of Cyrene's soaked butt cheeks, stimulated into an excruciating peak of sensitivity by Urganza's skilful tongue. The fingers of the warrioress clenched around those pert buttcheeks and the rosy anus parted to receive Urganza's slick invading tongue.
Inhaling deeply, Urganza made sure to breathe in the sweet muskiness of Cyrene's pretty hole. Savouring every precious scent of the enchanting girl's feminity, she delighted in each sweet droplet making her ever-sopping hole slippery and delectable. Urganza softly moaned around Cyrene's hole, causing rippling ripples to cascade through Cyrene. Her tongue relished inside, circling the plump pinkness. Cyrene responded with the tightening of her rosy hole around the tip of her tongue. Panting, each breath sending a warming cloud of steam floating across Cyrene's cheeks. Holding the young enchantress firmly around the middle, so her body remained motionless on her knees -- Urganza twisted Cyrene's hips slowly in gentle waves -- tongue fucking her.
Tapping Urganza on the shoulders gently, Antilorwe gained her attention. The Elf-Maiden had fully stripped and clad in nothing but the straps holding the imitation toy. Fitted snuggly in place, the miniature tool stood firmly against the waiting hips of Antilrowe, poised, ready to sink into Cyrene's eager hole. Its small size was a contrast to the wide hips of Antilorwe, but when the elf moved closer, the sway of the hips and the motions of the erect subtle toy only added to the appeal. Slowly, Antilorwe spat in her palm, the hand descending upon the phallus toy, softly stroking it with her palm ensuring its slickness.
Looking coyly at the alluring powerful image of her Antilorwe equipped with a makeshift shaft, Cyrene twisted with maddening eagerness as the hips swayed sinuously behind her before slowly lowering down. With slow savoury moans from both of them, Antilorwe thrust, slowly sinking the shaft in her wanting hole. Cyrene shook in anticipation, knowing the feeling of having an organ filling her. Not that the organ or the size mattered, but the who it connected her to. To her Antilorwe. Her very own divine goddess fucking her, with it -- leading her on her virgin journey.
A moment, later Cyrene screamed from mounting pressure threatening to tear her apart as the toy snaked inside her.
Sliding beneath her with superior agility, Urganza carefully lifted the crying Cyrene. Holding her trembling arms, the orc cooed. "Sweet enchantress, calm yourself. Let me help." Presenting her own rounded orbs, large enough to match those of Antilorwe's, Urganza pulled Cyrene closer to them. "Bite on them to bear the pain." Nuzzling into the thick raven locks, Urganza allowed Cyrene to bite her nipples.
A demanding feeling wormed itself into Urganza's deep recess as Cyrene's feathered teeth sunk close to her engorged nipples. Painfully aware of the girl's heated pole, lingering dangerously close to her own entrance -- its scintillating gradient of length thrusting closer and closer --, the knowledge to draw Cyrene in, to be impaled by her throbbing organ, penetration her -- to be fucked by her, became increasingly demanding to resist. Just as Cyrene's teeth clenched on her nipples, Urganza felt the insurmountable urge to grab her shaft and shove in through her wanting marmoreal passage. But to do that, -- a violation of trust --, would mount to losing Cyrene forever to the implacable threat of her own uncontrollable desires.
Urganza released her hold on the girl, and pressed her hands to her temples, caressing them in soothing circles.
Certain that Cyrene had calmed, accustomed to the pain, Antilorwe lowered her hips to penetrate Cyrene again, reaching deep within to spread the teasing lace of moisture around her twitching hole. Spitting one more time, Antilorwe coated her desire fuelled shaft. With a minute tender movement that was a sight to behold, she thrust her minuscule shaft. Wet sound slicked against Cyrene's silken flesh. Leaning closer, Antilorwe whispered tender encouragement and promises of arousal to each lascivious movement of her hips -- if Cyrene would relax to accept.
With firmer and smaller strokes, Antilorwe pushed slightly past Cyrene's resistance.
Accepting the love of Antilorwe's enchanted shaft, Cyrene thrust back slightly faster, not yet fully lost to the intoxicating bliss of being filled by her divine being -- Antilorwe.
Feeling Cyrene's response, Antilorwe thrust her fake organ inside Cyrene's burning hot core. Squeaking out louder, the young enchantress felt her toes curl. Warmth rushed through Cyrene's innermost sense as Antilorwe started pounding in and out of her, hard enough to feel and sense every movement of Antilorwe's hips, every thrust pushing Cyrene forward with a surge. A seductive nudge of power rumbled up Cyrene's spine as each quick thud seemed to match each whisper of her inaudible chant.
With each swift movement of Antilorwe's imitation shaft into Cyrene's quivering receptive hole, painful pleasure mingled with tender ministrations enveloping her being. Each stroke pushed her further on a wild avalanche of sexual ecstasy. Each thrust was punishingly pleasant, gruelling yet soothing with each intake. She was a torment. So soft and supple, yet rigid, with a stamina that surpassed anything conjurable. Her slim lithe body trembling with effort, rising to meet her assaulting lover, with each bounding leap was higher than the last -- the pleasure almost made Cyrene cry out loud. Her body simultaneously cried out for mercy and begged for treatment to never end.
Cyrene found herself drowning in the sweet sound of loving whispers. In a lust-driven haze, the otherworldly leash tugged, pulling her farther.
Marched as a comfort slave, Cyrene was given as a gift to the tormented gladiator, Urganza. More beast than orc, Cyrene was given as her plaything, to release her carnality and lust in equal measure -- to ravage her treasured feminity and maidenhood in a debauchery Cyrene had not expected. Urganza tore her measly rags, revealing her nudity to jowl and jeers. Steely clawed hands, raking upon her smooth alabaster skin, drawing darker streaks along her milky white breast. Stripped bare of any modesty, her nakedness exposed to roving glances of excited men and approving women alike -- caught too much in their maddening blood rush and sexual arousal -- craving, calling, demanding Urganza show her prowess. Urganza claiming her tear-stained face, tightly wrapping her hands around her feminine stalk. Soothing the addled mind of Urganza, Cyrene willingly thrust her organ into her tender quim. Each stroke calming the rage of her tormentor, dissipating her fury, till only the bright amber eyes of her Urganza stared back at her -- vividly.
Like a breach in the infinite void that sucked all, Cyrene found herself drawn away against her will into a desolate landscape. Tattooed with green runes and spirit contracts, Cyrene was a shaman summoned before the mad Despot. Clad almost naked, except for a multitude of periapt and amulets adorning her wrists, ankles and numerous small fetiches strung along her necklaces that covered her well-endowed and supple breasts. Only the beaded tassels of her waist ornament to protect the modesty of her quim, proved tortuous as the traitorous beads rubbed against her own folds and her throbbing clitoris, tormenting her. Urganza alone amidst the ruins of a shattered empire, seated on a broken throne standing singularly among the piles of orc skulls and bleached bones.
Urganza, the ruined despot peered up at Cyrene's lithe frame with a lethal predatory grace. She did not hide her anger when she pointed a menacing finger towards the girl. Yet arrested on an elevated pavilion with cords shackling her Cyrene could only love Urganza. Holding the thick handle of her blade, dripping with saliva, Urganza prepared to shove it through either orifice of Cyrene that tickled her whim at that time. Forcing Cyrene to endure, denying her to permission to release, sometimes from dusk till dawn and to the next dusk, through prickling heated summer or the bone-chilling winters -- Cyrene was every bit at the mercy of elements as she was at the mercy of Urganza. Yet she would yield her lips, eagerly accepting the gift of the Orc. Urganza's lips, ravishing through her perky nipples, her fingers traced tightly invading her slick cunt. Cyrene achingly holding her release only for the rough fingers of Urganza.
Cyrene found herself back in her academy, young and feminine and a much younger Urganza, a petulant unruly scion of a noble clan. Urganza attending her lectures with hidden intent. It started with mischievous smiles and stolen touches that presented as innocent but soon devolved into wanton fondling at every chance. Though Cyrene admonished her student Urganza's boldness, only in a professional capacity and outwardly, while deep down craving those roguish charms and affections. Yet Urganza persisted undeterred with each and every obscene advance, tempting and challenging her tutor. The nuance between them escalating almost to a ritual that fueled sexual tension. And so Cyrene found herself lecturing alchemy to a class full of aspiring novice alchemists. The broad counter holding incandescent liquid-filled burettes, pipettes, and beakers releasing brilliant fumes, tall enough to reach above Cyrene's abdomen, hiding a naughty Urganza's caresses from the unsuspecting class of students.
As Cyrene, continued her explanation for precise volumetric separation, Urganza's hands reached, strokingly caressing her legs. The effect of her hands, only made more sensitive by the silk stockings that Cyrene wore that particular day. She took a sharp intake of breath alarming her students. Pacifying them with a lie about the fumes escaping from a nearby beaker, Cyrene struggled to maintain her composure as she felt Urganza's small hands reach through the hem of her mid-length skirt, to caress the naked skin of her inner thighs. A barely audible and lewdly mischievous giggle came from Urganza as she let her fingers rise further. Finding the will to stand failing, Cyrene clutched the end of the counter with her manicured hands and continued sharing her treatise on the effect of impurities while the impure act of her impudent student continued to sap her strength.
Subtly brushing her hands aside, She guided Urganza's hands towards her ass cheeks. Tender movements told her that the little conniving Urganza had managed to liberate her panties and the cup of her fingers now slide barrierless over her panty-less derriere and finding a light pressure on Cyrene's anal opening. As Urganza slid her fingers into her rectum, stroking gently with in and out motion, Cyrene's words stammered, and her breathing grew erratic. She raised a hand to calm her students, attributing her condition to noxious fumes issuing close by, fabricating a lie about the temporary and non-lethal effect. Urganza's fingers worked fervently till the feminine shaft responded to the little orc caressing the ideal spot inside her. As her maiden pole slowly stirred, a wicked and anticipatory glee danced on Urganza's face.
Focusing on her class once more, Cyrene felt another caressing hand soothing over the flesh of her upper thigh. Reluctantly, unable to make eye contact with Urganza -- for what she was doing was too scandalous, ill-fitting to class -- Cyrene only remained silent to maintain a semblance of normalcy. Urganza, growing bolder, nudged closer and closer, drawing in more of Cyrene's scent. Her small orc head soon disappeared beneath Cyrene's skirt, while her lips found their object of affection. With well-practised movement, her lips encircled, her tongue licking with velvet touch and her head moving, drawing the latent lust of Cyrene. Moving with complete disregard for decency and Cyrene's own position, or rather, because of Cyrene's precarious position, kissing, caressing, lapping, sucking, slurping, and all over again -- all that time in which Cyrene was forced to stand like a statue still, their own private chemistry in erotic suspension. But the gracefully salacious face of the rude orc student, said all as she peeked a lewd glance at Cyrene, lifting the hem of her skirt; she wanted more. Holding the counter tightly for support, almost leaning her weight at them, and with a professional smile presented to her students, Cyrene let her hips gyrate slowly, thrusting into the eager orc's waiting lips -- fucking her. Straddling her young student, filling her with her love from her girly stalk to full, Cyrene shuddered as the wave of liquid heat spread through her, urging her to release her ambrosial juices to the craving orc student.
Under the bright blue sky, and the sound of water lapping at the edge of the pool, Urganza held the writhing and squirming Cyrene, now enthralled under the orgasmic bliss.
Cyrene found comfort in Urganza's embrace, like lying on silver sand with brightly coloured sea shells sprinkled around. She let the gentle sensual trance flow through, spreading her passion and its promises like wings across the wide horizon. Not a hasty and hurried rush to reach a promising peak but rather more fulfilling. Her whole body felt warm and light, relieved of the burden of its own weight, her self floating, drifting to the sweet siren lull of a serene ocean. The wave of ecstasy surging and retreating, but never fully. Cyrene felt akin to a giant tidal wave, on which crested a series of smaller tidal waves. Rapidly rising and falling, but the giant wave surged unperturbed -- ever so slowly, almost frozen in time.
Cyrene relished in the exhilarated bliss of climax, lost to time itself. Gradually, the ecstasy of climax slipped away.
Cyrene expected to find herself warmly snuggled between her two lovers. Instead, she was thrust into an alien landscape. Desolate and fractured. Made inhospitable and perverted by clashes of colossal forces. Traces of civilisation reduced to meagre tales of the past. And through this unforgiving lands, stalked a young girl -- robust and tired -- clutching huge bundles and trailed by smaller forms. Urging closer, Cyrene found the bundles to be alive, young children -- Young half-elven children with cherubic glow, their celestial heritage shone through despite their nascent age and shabby forms. The girl leading, a half-orc, barely old enough to be acknowledged a maiden and yet not a child, stumbled through hunger and fatigue, summoning from her latent well of willpower to move forward. The amorphous form of the other smaller figures sharpened revealing three more children, two with orc heritage and one with unmistakable high-elven blood.
Around a makeshift campfire, the leading girl skewered a rodent that she, fortunately, managed to trap in the brutal lands. Sharing the meat with the younger children, she bit her pale lips. She scraped the scantily growing moss on the rocks and swallowed them to stave off the hunger, to prepare her malnourished frame to survive another day.
Panic raced behind her eyes, as one of the children pointed toward the rising tenebrous fog rolling down and the huge titanic figures that stirred within the unnatural darkness. She called out thr half-elven children with terror-laced words, but only one responded. The other half-elven child, a boy with dark hair and lush verdant green eyes, stood unblinking -- staring at Cyrene.
Gaze locked, a dewy tear trickled down Cyrene's cheek. Unexplainble. Emotions built up, but even as the child refused to utter anything. Yet, his expression betrayed his heart. He looked longingly at Cyrene. His small tulip bud lips trembled, and when he raised his tiny arms, Cyrene felt her heart shattered with overwhelming grief.
With quick urgent strides, the half-orc girl reached the small child and grabbing him by his shoulders, she shook him violently enough that Cyrene feared for the spasms to fracture his fragile frame.
"Mama" he uttered with trouble.
"There is no mother," screamed the girl. Pain, and agony saturated her words. Failing to stifle a sob, she cried and wailed -- uncontrollably. "There is no mother, no ma and no mama. Our mothers are dead. Betrayed, and deigned to a fate worse."
Something broke within Cyrene. Shattering every last fragment of her very being to waddle through the thick molasses veil of reality, she wanted to hold her daughter. To hold her children close to her heart and comfort them till their hearts knew only peace and contentment.
And she found herself back -- crying, sobbing, wailing, uncontrollably in the caring arms of her lovers.
