THE CHAINED GIFT III: The master's weapons

The Dame Corail was a view worth watching: wearing the House colours, and barely any jewellery; the top of her hairstyle, a cascade of small braids interwoven with silver threads; the thinnest chiffon sleeves barely covering her nicely-shaped arms; her radiant visage gently resting on her perfect hand... As a matter of fact, Nestro wasn't missing the opportunity to observe her at will, and that's how Caradhar found him when he joined them in his mother's private chambers. He though it was nothing to reproach him for: he himself found that female elf irresistible. If only he didn't know...

But when the gifted drew their attention, the weapon master turned his head to him and received him with a wide, pleased smile; the boy wasn't interrupting anything: on the contrary, his presence doubled the number of beautiful things to enjoy in the room.

'Behold your pupil, Nestro,' the lady said, pointing the young elf a chair. 'Are his skills with weapons worthy of your mastery?'

'They will once I'm done with him, My Lady, I assure you. Although I must say he doesn't lack the in ate abilities to wield a sword.' Nestro chuckled, and his eyes sparkled. Caradhar understood right away he wasn't meaning that kind of sword.

'I'm glad to hear. I'm sure everything he does is longing for the laboratories of Llia'res.'

'About that, there's nothing I can do. Is that true, boy? Would you rather surround yourself with stinking brews than... crossing swords with me?'

'... I can't see why I have to do it. Do I have to guarantee My Lord's safety? I haven't even been summoned by Lord Killien...'

'Oh, be patient. Lord Killien is not fond of public appearances; you'll have to learn to wait,' she said.

'I must say, I'm surprised Llia'res let go a gifted like him. A poor weapon master like me, is one thing; but a gifted...' confessed Nestro. 'And elves with the Gift are so rare... My Lady Corail is very persuasive indeed, capable to inspire anyone with the wish to please her...'

'Of course, my brother is also interested in keeping a good relationship between the two Houses. I don't know if your flattering me or censuring me, Nestro.' Corail arched her eyebrows and displayed a small grin.

'My head is at your disposal if I ever dare to censure you, My Lady.' The weapon master bowed his head with courtesy.

Caradhar observed the scene with curiosity. Even if his mother liked to surround herself with members of her former House, the closeness between those two was... remarkable. He wondered if there was something else between them.

The chat continued, although the young redhead just answered when talked to. When they departed, Nestro bowed his head to the Maeda and smiled.

'Always on my side?' she asked.

'Always.' And, showing great audacity, the elf held his Lady's hand for some instants before saying goodbye.

As they were walking away across the courtyard, the gifted asked quietly:

'Do you go to bed with her?' The older elf raised his eyebrows, taken by surprise. It was hard to get used to the youngster's harsh and direct demeanour.

'My, my... We don't beat around the bush...' he joked, when he could react. 'Why? Jealous?'

'No; I'm just curious.'

Nestro stared at his companion intensely.

'The Maeda is really alluring; but she's a lady whose honorability can't be doubted. You better remember that, boy.' The gifted didn't move a muscle, but for someone knowing the truth it would have been easy to guess what he was thinking. 'Besides... I must confess, with a certain amount of embarrassment, that I don't hang around other beds these days; my girls are giving me up for lost. You drain all my energy...'

The dark-haired elf smiled mischievously.

'Stretch your arm further; move your leg further forward; straighten your back; wrong, wrong, wrong...'

The night was close, and there was just a handful of elves practising in the training room. They were all rookies and their mentors. Those with the... luck?... of having their own personal instructor received a more exhaustive training. But the instructors had their own duties to fulfil during the day; the extra lessons were limited to their free time.

And that was Nestro's case; the weapon master had a busy schedule. It was admirable that he still kept some energy to devote those evenings to his new ward... And that without including what they used to do even later.

But the elf was a demanding teacher, that wouldn't leave anything unfinished. If he was going to take care of the younger elf's training, they both would do their utmost. Those slim arms of his better be able to wield a sword for hours... And for weeks, and despite Caradhar's complains, he made sure of it.

'You thrust the sword like my great-grandmother, boy: you wouldn't go through a young pigeon like that. I've seen prissy damsels in the dining-room sticking the fork with more energy... No... I warn you: if you drop the sword, the wrath of the gods will be a joke, compared to mine...'

The hall became emptier and emptier, while Nestro kept shouting orders and sarcastic remarks.

'Not a bad pose; I would praise it, if you were a one-armed, lame elf. And now, let's assume that you keep both arms and both legs...'

The weapon master walked towards the young elf and forced his arm and back in the right position, without any consideration; Caradhar almost dropped the sword, so harsh his mentor was...

'You're loving this, aren't you?' muttered the gifted, the right corner of his lips cynically arched.

Nestro looked around: the hall was empty, only themselves were left. Visibly relaxing, taking advantage of his position at the back of the redhead, with his right arm stretched parallel to his, he intensely stroked the wrist he was holding, and slipped his other hand under his clothes, from his slender waist to his stomach. Blowing away some red locks escaped from his band that were on his way towards the soft neck, he kissed and nibbled it with passion; enough to leave red marks, that quickly disappeared.

'Of course I'm loving it...' he answered at his ear. 'Before we started I warned you I'd make a decent swordelf out of you. And here,' he said, feeling the boy's arm and abs, 'new muscles that weren't there before appeared. Moreover, if I always have to be in the receiving end, in bed,' he added, moving the hand on his stomach under the waist of his trousers, 'this is the only place where I can vindicate my strength, isn't it?'

The gifted's breath became heavier. Nestro, satisfied, enjoyed making him shiver in his arms. His idyllic vision of Caradhar as a delicate being he could treat like a young girl had been left behind. Sometimes he felt ashamed when he thought of his way of dominating him in bed; only the gods knew where that damned boy had learnt all that... And might he burn in hell if he didn't feel everyday the wish to do the same with him, but... He was aware that he would never be allowed to lay his hands on him again. All right; maybe one day Caradhar would change his mind; he could wait.

'Huh... Does this mean... the class is over for today?' managed to ask the gifted. Lowering completely the arm that held the sword, he rested its extreme on the floor.

Nestro didn't answer. With his teeth, he pulled the hair band and released his mane, where he buried his face; he breather in with delight and licked the skin of his nape and shoulders.

'I'm... covered in sweat... You should wait until I take a...'

'Who damn cares? Hmmm... This way, you smell and taste better than anyone else I've been with... It'a amazing...'

The hand inside his trousers quickened its pace; the one holding his arm joined it, under the tight fabric, sliding until the area right over his thighs, and started to frisk around, until Caradhar released a muffled moan and quivered; then he dropped the sword, that fell to the floor with a strident metallic sound.

Nestro waited some seconds until his partner calmed down. As he took the wet hand out of his trousers, he smiled.

'You dropped the sword: now I'll have to think of a exemplary punishment...'

The new House Elore'il guard trainees had been taken to perform their first field mission, whose success would allow them to acquire their new rank, armour and resulting duties. In those times, a military career was one of the most prestigious professions a young elf could aspire to; Elore'il was a House of the First Circle, and the mere fact of walking along the streets of Argailias wearing its livery inspired respect among the population.

Caradhar's skills had improved considerably and he had managed to be included in the group; It wasn't common at all allowing a gifted to join one of those expeditions, but the young elf tried as hard as possible, since he felt strong curiosity about their destination.

In a parched valley in the middle of the border between Therendanar and the elven territories crouched some of the living consequences of the tear in the magic fabric and the Great Blasphemy, although nobody remembered those names anymore; nobody, except the silvan elves, the only remaining heirs of the old Chronicles, disappeared, with all their wisdom, inside the forests.

As it is written, the firsts experiments carried out by Therendas and his disciples on spell weavers, when alchemists still remained into the dark, occasioned the birth of terrible abominations. Humans, horrified, got rid of them and took good care of avoiding their failures to becoming public. But some of those creatures managed to escape alive from the subterranean laboratories; how they arrived the valley, hid, multiplied and corrupted the cave network winding into the bowels of the mountains that surrounded it... That, nobody knew it.

What appears certain is that years and years of alchemical experiments had turned the place into some kind of chemical dump for vain attempts. For some unknown reason, the abominations never left the valley; humans and elves merely appointed guard detachments to their respective areas of influence, along with some intrepid researchers and field labs. Common people avoided the place, known as the Valley of Ummankor, and used to spoke about those lands with superstitious fear.

As expected, House Elore'il also had its own agenda in Ummankor, and its own researchers working under the Grand Alchemist's direction. It was a very risky job...

Upon the lack of news from one of their detachments, explorers had been sent, who had reported the total loss of troops. Since the situation seemed to be back to normal, an expedition was organised, with the guard trainees , to recover the corpses and as much material as possible. The Grand Alchemist has emphasised the material.

The location was desert. The corpses of several elves were lying on the ground of the field laboratory, among broken phials, leafless books and twisted metal and glass pieces. The young guards, the officers and the alchemists undertook the salvaging.

Caradhar was among them. Keeping himself out of the way, he started to poke about; after a while, something among the debris caught his eye: the side of a small decorated chest sticking out from a pile of scrolls. It showed a familiar emblem, even if he had only seen it once: a mythological creature, consisting of parts of different animals; the Grand Alchemist's personal coat of arms. Caradhar wasn't impulsive by nature, but he felt compelled to appropriate that item. He approached surreptitiously, made sure that nobody was looking, and snatched up the box, shoving it under his armour.

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