A literotic sexstories: The Champion's Companion 10 by BlknMild611 ,
“This close to the lands of chaos they don’t speak to two people in black who stroll up after dark. Nevertheless, that doesn’t matter. Let me ask you: if there is a way in, and if that way was quick but dangerous, what would you say?”
“I thought we were immortal? But that doesn’t matter I’ll follow you.” Kaarthen said. Inside she was curious.
“Come along.” Marcos said with gleeful mischievousness.
They followed the wall until they came to a cemetery outside the city.
“Grippe is inside the lands of Menthino, they represent themselves in court, and pay a portion for the common defense. Nevertheless, they didn’t ever give rights for anyone to come in openly. About six hundred years ago, an epidemic swept through here and the city called in others to help in the crisis. The city of Leethon sent people. Half of them were state spies. They cut several tombstones that lay against the city wall in an intentionally useful manner.”
“Why do you trust them so much if they are so inconvenient?” asked Kaarthen
“Grippe is not a city in the traditional sense. They are a mining company set forth last cycle. However, that’s what makes them good for my purposes, they survived. Not completely, they don’t know or remember that they are the oldest city, but they still mine. They have better than six in ten of surviving a cycle perhaps even eight in ten. Therefore, I bought the city.”
“So, again, why are we sneaking in?” Kaarthen said following him up onto a mausoleum.
“The only two ways it could be destroyed is by disease from the inside, which is controlled hopefully by the walls and really isn’t a complete loss. The other way is internal unrest that continues for extended period.
If that happens, I will kill whomever I have to, to keep the city secure.” Marcos said hopping to the top of another statue.
“I collected a great many powerful and useful things here, weapons mostly. I thought one day Dark Mother would be challenged and the god would have a champion I couldn’t beat directly. Now, for whatever reason that hasn’t happened, but I can’t destroy this stuff.” Marcos huffed, and jumped up to the top of the wall. They were several meters high in the air. Around them pale moonlight illuminated hills and trees. In the city, lights and noises of a movement were everywhere. “The security is all completely necessary. You’ll find the people of Grippe don’t get out much and are usually ignored if they do.” Marcos waited for Kaarthen to traverse the tricky climb.
“They value usable technology and the like to show it off. They like the attention they get for it, so lots of them would be trying to show off for a new face. So just smile and please don’t ask questions.”
“Interesting, but Marcos, why leave a way in?” Kaarthen asked after she jumped over. The way down was easier and nobody was around.
“Because now, only I know about it.” Marcos said starting ahead.
The two slinked through the night. Flameless candles and streetlights fascinated Kaarthen. All the work was done in shiny brass with exposed parts that boggled the mind with the complexity. Some lit windows showed contraptions everywhere lining walls and tables.
The people rode odd chairs with wheels that moved. Their feet spun a chain that moved the strange craft. Everyone seemed to have one. The crafts varied in size from those pulling carts or some so small one had to stand atop it, there were no horses in sight. The many crafts all made a racket as the metal or wood wheels scratched and ground over the paved cobbled stones. The loudest noises were from whistling noises like giant teakettles off in the distance.
The two earned a few odd looks from the residents as they made their way further into the city. Most women were dressed in tight swooping dresses with narrow flowing skirts that emphasized their hips and bosoms. The men were covered head to toe in layers of buttoned jackets, hat, and long skinny pants. Lots of people wore goggles on their foreheads or on their eyes as they rode around. The people were all of various colors but they didn’t seem to have tans. Even the darkest brown-skinned people seemed to have none of that vibrancy of time in the sun.
They arrived in a large open square that had a large bank, municipal town hall, and stage with a seating area for gatherings lining the edges. A fourth building sat back behind zigzagged stairs and a tall iron wrought fence atop a stout stonewall. On two sides, large wooden drawbridges were raised for service deliveries. One brought things to the front. The other entrance was cleverly sectioned off. It ran towards the back of the four stories tall, stone building on the left side. Directly behind the rectangular structure the stone face of mountain seemed to butt up against the back.
This remarkable and at the same time subtle building was where Marcos led. He produced a key at the outer gate and they walked in. Marcos took her around the side of the extended entranceway to a glass door that looked much more like one of the full-length windows. He opened it and ushered a gawking open-mouthed Kaarthen inside.
Kaarthen was shocked, and the wonder wore off as she stepped in. The interior of the building was not furnished. It was a barren cave like passage. Before them, was a solid seamless stone cut square that made a passage for Marcos to walk along. Just as they entered the passage, a gap between the cave and the fake building’s facade caught Kaarthen’s eye. Looking up, Kaarthen could see lamps lighting all the windows visible from outside.
Following the passage to the left, then turning right, they reached the perimeter of this disguised building. Kaarthen could make out stairs taking them down. After fifty steps, they reached a door on the right that Marcos opened. Inside looked very much like an elaborate high temple.
“Wow I’m sure the goddess would be proud of your piety.” Kaarthen said looking around. She reflected real internal thoughts of wonder at what her champion had been doing.
Before her were hundreds of various statues. All the statues were from different cycles, and were done beautifully. All the aspects were represented. Seductive coy femininity, wantonly lewd maternal fertility, and stoic severe death. Some times the statues were rendered obviously pregnant.
The wall was covered in mosaics and portraits of her full form. She sat in a black toga. Her body was her ebony skin and floating obsidian hair with the pitch-black voids of eyes and silver mirrors of pupils. Some were done in the traditional three-armed form with her sitting, pinching an exposed nipple between her thumb and fingers of her left hand, delivering birth to a skull with one right hand, the second right arm was raised holding up a rose.
That gave her pause.
“I have seen lots of images of the Dark Mother, never have I seen her with a rose in the third hand. It was always done with a downward dagger or an up held sword.” Kaarthen commented quietly.
She saw another portrait. It was not as well done, and almost hidden, but it reminded her of others for some reason. Looking back and forth the Goddess was who noticed it.
“You did the paintings yourself, didn’t you?” Kaarthen said truly amazed.
The background was the common feature. It was the same temple as when they first met. In others the main temple in Mavvus was the background or clearly over her shoulder. The pictures and portraits varied in size growing in style and detail, culminating in the complicated mosaic on the long wall.
“I did it all myself. This is where I have stayed as two cycles started. Only that one is not mine, an artisan gave it to me.” He said, indicating an excellent work. The goddess only once had him go to Dar Delis. However, the portrait was cold and vague in accuracy compared to the others.
“But why the rose? You can’t even see if it’s dark red or black.” Kaarthen said squinting and stepping forward.
“A long time ago I was unable to have healthy children and I felt cursed. Remember, when I was first… created, the children I had were vampires. I know that an immortal depressed over their conditions, or eternal existence is an odd thing but it happens.” Marcos walked over to stand next to her looking at the painting. “I wanted perfection, I asked Dark Mother to give me mortal children, as normal as others. She did, but she did not allow me to take wives after that. I was quite surprised that she had you become my Companion. I meditated a lot over it and that dark form never returned. After that, it was always her other aspect of Death that dealt with me. I thought perhaps if they were separate aspects, my Host couldn’t be close to me for some reason and withheld herself. It seemed she wanted me to be a tool and act as a tool. In addition, it seemed she wanted me to be hers alone. I thought when I reached that part of the portrait she killed my love and yet she perhaps loved me. The rose fit the aspect. I had thought about displaying it. Women, especially those in power who feel they can’t, act in similar ways when their emotions become powerful. I have known many queens and nobles who thought themselves above impulse and emotion. Their efforts and training for control naturally try to inhibit that whimsical, or primal feeling. Usually bad things happen when it’s repressed too much. They become excessively distant and cold, or obsessive when they want to be closer and warm. People of power, or responsibility are always taught little of love, they think it a distraction. Uncontrolled and unexpected it is much more insidious than a distraction. I think it is no different from horse riding. You aren’t really in control, the horse very easily could kill you, but you may guide and hope the rules are common between both of you. If you’re able to train yourself with schedules and limited timely satisfactions, love can be fulfilling as you continue your work. Like any addiction, I suppose. So to answer your question, it is both red and black.”
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