Feeling the lifeforce drain from your body is a maddening feeling. The thundering of my chest drowns out any other noise, even the sound of my fleeing comrades. With my remaining strength I snap the arrow in half. I know it is futile. The arrowhead was simply too large, our enemies to the south choosing mercilus tactics instead of honorable combat. Barely missed my breastplate. Is this really my luck? Dying, alone and without a shred of glory? I peel the helm off my head, needing to feel the forest’s breeze one last time. I lean back, thudding my head on the bark of a tree in hopes the pain will keep me awake longer. I want to live this life for as long as I am able. It is not fair that I have to die as apart of a unneeded war. Conscripted for no other reason than I was orphan, brutally trained as one of the King’s Legion for years only to end up here, dead. I hear a crack, snapping my head as fast as one who is mortally wounded can. I grab my sword, if not for defense of my life, than in defense of a dignified death. Long black hair protrudes from behind the nearest tree, a few horselengths away. I point the tip of my blade at this figure, my gaze travelling the length of the blade until I make contact with an eye. Blue as the dawn sky. My arm begins to shake, my hand losing the strength to hold the blade. It thuds onto the forest floor. 

“Please…” I rasp. “Let me die… with honor.” The figure steps out from the tree once I have spoken, but I have trouble making out the details of this person. My vision blurs as my head begins to feel light, far away. This stranger has the figure of a woman, fair skin, dark garments around her shoulders and bust. In moments, some of my last I know it, she reaches just steps before me. With her this close I can see her beauty. Perfect, feminine beauty. Like a goddess. Or…

“Are you an angel?” My voice sounds clear surprisingly, but also very far away. My arms fall limply at my sides, my blood soaked hand not having any will left to hold my wound. 

“I can be.” She whispers as she kneels in front of me. Her hands run up my neck onto my face. I can barely feel it. My eyes feel increasingly tired, though I force them open to see this incredible creature. 

“Take me… to the next life.” I croak out. Her thumbs come up over my eyelids and shut them for me. I nere had the strength left regardless.

“I will.” 

—

I dream of light. Bright light. Perhaps the next life is truly spectacular. The King always believed that there was a greater being, who ruled over everything. I had doubts. The King said that doubts would lead to disfavor. I am scared I have earned that consequence. 

—

I feel my eyes open, not to bright light, but to candle light. The next life has a log ceiling. Furry beds. My arms are splayed above my head. On attempt to bring them close, I feel binds on my wrists hold me in place. Fear grips me, situations running through my head. Is this Hell? Am I truly doomed to an eternity of torture? On the contrary, am I alive? Did I somehow survive? If I am still of this plane, then I must be captured. Which would mean I would get tortured as well. I pull violently against the constraints, feeling them stretch slightly. Perhaps leather? I have to stop once I feel the pain in my side once more. Hope springs in my heart. I am alive, I know it! Craning my head up against the bed roll behind it, I see that I am shirtless, but I already felt the draft on my bare skin. My wound is still present, the arrow’s broken shaft still inserted in me. No blood leaves the wound however, meaning I must have been mended by some adept healer. That shan’t have been an angel than. Rather, my savior. Just as that thought enter my head, she enters this small room. 

“I am alive?” I ask.

“You are.” Her voice is less ethereal, now past the brink of death. Just as divine though. 

“You saved me?”

“I did.” She steps closer, her hips swaying in a tantalizing rhythm. Her eyes, by god her eyes. 

“You have my thanks, unless you intend to restrain me here.”

“Do not be fearful. I must continue to heal you.” She rests at the bedside, her hands running along my left leg. At least I still have my undergarments. Her fingers trail up to my wound, which burns at her touch. “Do not thrash great knight.” She orders. “I intend to help.” I nod, expecting the great torrent of pain that will come from her pulling the arrow out. Instead, I am shocked. Coolness enters my side through her hands. I freeze when I understand and set eyes upon what is happening. The arrow slowly leaves my skin, but not at her touch. Instead, her hands are on my ribs. She chants under her breath as incrementally my flesh heals. Eventually the arrow clatters to the floor and my flesh returns to how it was when I left the castle, unharmed. 

“W- w-” I stammer. Her blue eyes turn to me as she finishes.

“Do not distress knight, I was-”

“Witch! You are a witch!” 

“Please-” She begs. I barely hear her over the mountain of curses that leaves my mouth. 

“Unhand me demon! I condemn your magic! Release me so I may cleanse the world of your evil!” 

“Silence.” Suddenly, I no longer can shout. My voice dies in my throat. Fear grips my entire body. She is a powerful witch. I am at her mercy, her and her devil magic. Oh gods. I will be eaten by her witch teeth. I will be melted for her candles. My soul will be burned for her amusement. Surely she will-

“Look.” Her powerful words force me to focus on her, instead of dart around. The witch rests her hand on my side, where the wound used to be. Her beautiful- no- evil gaze rests on me inquistively. I thrash in any attempt to escape. I feel the binds stretch more, but hold firm. “My name is Niacine. You are Lyrian.” My eyes widen in recognition. How does she know my name? “I know many things Lyrian. My tomes have foreseen our fates. Be not afraid.” Her hand runs along my bare chest, tingles entering my lungs as she crawls foreward on the bed. Niacine stops just before the pit of my arm, choosing to lean forward instead. The witch holds my face up, her own growing closer and closer. She halts just in front of me, her divine eyes entrapping me. “Tell me Lyrian, will you be mine?” 

“I- I-” I have the ability to speak again, but I cannot perform still. I feel incredibly alive. Pleasured. Eager. She is making me feel this way. Her magic. Her witch magic. “No!” I state, choosing to thrash once more. The witch pulls back, her beautiful features contorting into an emotion of disappointment. Good. “Stay away from me you devil! Release me!” 

“You do not understand.”

“I hope I never will you heathen. I will never be yours. If you do not wish to release me, then kill me so I may escape your torture.” She says nothing, slowly placing her hand over my chest as calm returns to her face. “Do not touch me witch!”

“Cardeus… melum…. sa tonn… krono… meafult!” Her chants echo in my mind as they leave her beautiful mouth. I feel nothing. 

“Your magic has no hold over me.” I boast. She chooses to stay silent. Instead, her head rests on my chest, peering up at me with soft eyes. Her thumb gently sweeps across my sternum. 

“I have waited for you… my love.” Her whispers, while alluring, do not distract me from the fact that I hate her soft touch. I must break free of here and take her away to be… burned. Yes. Sensually, she stands. The black robes fall at her feet. Her beauty extends to her full body. Her legs, her bosom, her womanhood. A perfect patch of hair adorns her slit, a perfect accent to her feminine features. I take a steeling breath, hoping my willpower truly is as strong as she says it is. I want her. I need her. A witch. Evil… is in her nature. Niacine strides close to the bed, her sex glistening. Oh gods. 

“I know I shouldn’t my love, but I do rather enjoy seeing you struggle. Your arms strain in a way that… leaves me excited. Forgive me.” She crawls onto the bed, her skin brushing up against mine. Her hips straddle my own while she covers me with her body. Her skin, so soft. “Take me Lyrian. It is our fate. You will be mine, and I yours. Do not deny our happiness.”

“Do not… touch… me… witch.” I manage to say through strained lips. It is all so much feeling. I do not dare look at her face. 

“Forgive me love. You are not there yet. Soon.” Niacine rolls off my body and I immediately miss her touch. I want to beg her to stay. Deep down I know I cannot, but every other part of me protests. When she leaves the room, I know drastic measures must occur. Else, I would be lost. I close my eyes, doing my best to gather my strength for my attempt. Once free, I must make great haste. She could ensnare me with her magic as I flee. She could render me a mute, she could render me blind, anything is possible with her devil magic. She could make me her… slave. Make me kneel at her feet and beg for her words in my head. She could even make me, a distinguished, honorable knight, her husband. She could make me a traitor to my kingdom, a traitor to the institutions that raised me and… brutally trained me for years. 

I open my eyes, gasping in an attempt to recollect my thoughts. Minutes have passed, perhaps far too many. I have my strength. With another gasp I wrench my arms forward as hard as possible. There is pain as I pull against the bindings with all my might. My arms strain, burning with every second. I hear my salvation finally, after long moments of torture. The leather rips slightly on the right binding, slackening in tune with the damage. I give up on the other arm, instead focusing my energy to the right. Slowly, it pulls and stretches gruellingly until the leather snaps. Yes! I will be free from Niacine. My arm free, I roll to the left. Bracing my free hand against the wood frame of the bed I am able to lean away from the restraint. My body weight proves to be useful as the leather more easily stretches and snaps. I have to rub my wrists, the strain reddening my skin greatly.

I stand from the bed, surveying the small bedroom. My armor is no where to be found, neither my battle tunic. Tip-toeing to the open doorway, I subtly peer out into the larger space of this witches hut. It’s big, much bigger than I would’ve imagined. This abode is more akin to a governor’s mansion in the countryside. How could she have… belay that, she is a witch. The larger room has no exit besides a staircase that leads up, or a long hallway to my left. I move to the beginning of the hallway, quickly peeking to see where Niacine is. If I can avoid her, I must. Her beauty is too alluring, too tempting. My body holds the wall close as I move quietly through the hall. It opens to another large space, fit with chairs and a fireplace. As well as her. Niacine sits at a desk, a crude mirror in front of her. Her long dark hair is being braided by her gentle fingers. It is indescribable the way it suits her head. Gods. 

The only exit as I can tell is beyond Niacine’s desk. In her sightline. She could hit me with whatever pacifying spell she could muster. I must deal with her in order to escape. I ready myself. I must be strong, I must remember what my future is supposed to hold. Glory, duty, service. I explode from my hiding spot, running to her where she sits. She gasps as I pick her up from her throat and carry her to the closest wall. I grip her supple throat with my right, bracing against the wall with my left, sure to choke the life out of her in moments. Her hands grip my wrist in protest, her eyes peer up at me, filled with fear. Her beautiful, blue eyes. Like the dawn of morning, with flecks of purple. I press my body into her’s, my weight trapping her against the wall. I can end this madness right now. No more magic. No more evil. No more… Niacine. No more of her eyes. No more of her lips. No more of her voice. No more of her gentle touch. No more of her care for my life. 

Suddenly, my arm doesn’t have the strength to hold her up. Nor the strength to constrict her throat. Her feet pad to the floor, the fear ebbing out of her eyes with every regained breath in her chest. Still, I hold her neck, able to crush it in one move. It pulses under my thumb. Niacine’s delicate hands move from my wrist to around my hips. She pulls me closer, my hips naturally pressing her’s into the wall. My cock grows to its limit, her heat evident as well. Her arousal wets the front of my undergarments. Her hands glide up my sides, eventually wrapping around my shoulders. My hand which had held Niacine’s neck drifts up to her jaw. I angle her head upward, my thumb tracing her lips. She kisses it, licks it before sucking it into her mouth. I rock back before pressing into her more, groaning as my cock gets trapped between her thighs. Thin fabric separates our pleasure and we both know it. My head leans down, our foreheads pressing against one another. The hand that had pressed into the wall now caresses her fresh braid. Her hair is unbelievably soft. My eyes dart back and forth between her’s, their beauty perfected mirrored to the other side. How can I look at just one?

“How…” I exhale, unsure of what I shall confess, “Can one be so… beautiful?” Niacine smiles. Her hands coax my head down further, whilst my hands cup her face. The kiss she envelopes me in, divine. I drape my entire being over her body, careful not to crush her. Both sets of hands can never sit still, running over each other’s flesh with a sense of urgency. It is as if we must learn each other’s flesh as much as we must breathe. My rational thoughts begin to quiet, all so I can better focus on her. She consumes my mind, my heart, even my soul. Heat wraps around my head, beginning right where her lips press against mine. I cup her backside with my hands, dipping down to capture the soft flesh. Niacine grips my shoulders and jumps up so I can carry her. Her kisses make the walk back to the bedroom seem short and long simultaneously. 

Laying her on the bed seems a bad settlement. I wanted to hold her longer, but other needs must be met. Her hands drag my undergarments off, before Niacine finally lays flat to display her whole beauty. Perfect glistening sex, supple bosom heaving, and breathtaking hair. I crawl over her, keeping close enough that each inch of my skin hits hers. One of her hands clutches the back of my head, pulling me to her neck. I suck her flesh into my mouth as I guide my shaft into her, quickly letting off as I readily need to gasp. “Yes!” Niacine moans into my ear. I find my rhythm of rocking into her, unsure of how long this will continue. More than one part of me is ready to burst. I hold strong, wanting this experience to last. I take my filll of her body as I stretch her insides. I suck on her breasts, her neck, her bottom lip. Every part of her flesh is special. Every breath, a gift. Every soft noise she makes, a blessing. The moment becomes a haze of pleasure and heat and need and…

Images conjur in my mind. This homestead, alive with lush crops. My armor, hung on display, long retired. Our bed, unkempt from our lovemaking. Other rooms, alive with the laughter of children. Niacine’s smile, a beacon of happiness for myself. I feel her finger leave my temple, and the images leave. Memories not yet my own, but I miss them dearly. “This was… our fate?” I ask her between breaths, my eyes finally refocusing on her face. 

“Yes my love. Ah- always.” I look down at our joined flesh, seeing now that I am stilled deep inside her. I restart our connection, leaving Niacine with shaky breaths. Need stirs deep in my belly, not just for my own pleasure, but for her’s. She pinches her face, murmuring softly under her breath as I thrust into her. 

“I am yours.” I whisper into her ear, in between nibbles on her neck, “I think I always have been.” 

“GAH!” She cries out, clueing me to her status. I bring my mouth to her’s, stealing her breath as I speed to a pace I cannot sustain. Niacine’s insides clench, her legs squeezing my hips in a full body contraction. I don’t focus on how impossibly tight she is, instead I grab hold of her legs and part them wider, granting me continued access. She doesn’t breathe as I mindlessly rut into her, dragging out her bliss. Her inner muscles relax just as her eyes roll back into her head, and she finally exhales into my mouth. When I feel her leg begin to twitch beneath my hand, I lose my resolve. My head falls off to her to shoulder, pressing into the bed as I put all my weight into her pelvis. The roaring in my ears deafens me to the world, but I feel it all the same. The pleasure is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. Wave after wave of bliss match each spurt of my seed. It feels so good it almost hurts. Time stretches to an impossible length as still I spill into her. I barely move, each small twitch only further destroying me. I finally collapse against her when she contracts once again, squeezing me like a rag, desperate to get every last drop. I roll off her, but my loose grip turns her with me. Good, because the small bit of air that touches my shaft is too much. Too cold. I need to be inside her. Always. 

Her light touch on my face brings me back to this world. The roaring in my ears ceases, and finally I can hear myself whimpering like a dog. I open my eyes, finding her tint of blue. It is like peering up through the forest floor, only seeing specks of the sky through the trees branches. I would find it any day, look through even the thickest of woods to see this sky. She strokes my cheek, smiling brightly. The glow of her face makes her even more indescribable. I don’t know how I have the strength, but I grip her hips and roll her on top of me. Her weight pins me to the bed, the feeling being perfect and natural. I knead the flesh of her hips like bread,  which makes Niacine giggle. 

“You did better than I could have imagined my love. Making a family with you will be most enjoyable.” I release a shaky breath. The sound of her voice is heaven. 

“Niacine,” I groan, “How is this possible? How do I love you so? This magic, what is it? Why do I love you more than my kingdom? Why do I crave for you more than sustenance?” She smiles at me tenderly, resting her palm on my cheek. 

“I simply revealed our fates. The feelings may have come faster than they naturally would have, but they would have came all the same.” I don’t know what to say. Not before I at least kiss her once more.

“Thank you… my love.”

“You’re welcome my love.” I feel the bed roll come over us, almost certain Niacine uses a force other than her physical. I settle my nose into her hair, beginning to dream of little feet running circles around both of our legs.