Prologue

Magic was once abundant in the world: most agree with that.  What people disagree on is how to bring the magic back.

Some say the magic will never return, that it is a punishment for past sins.  Some say the magic will return once the sins have been atoned for, or when wrongs have been righted.  Others say that magic can be made abundant again through effort and intelligence. Most say that the world was paradise when magic was abundant, and will be again, if ever the source of magic can be found.

But, for now, the world is far from paradise, and everyone continues on, hoping for more magic in their lives.

Chapter 1: The Longest Chapter

There were two paths in front.  Two choices.

Kadren tired of such dilemmas.  She had had enough of choosing between two.  It would be better if there were three paths, or four, or even a hundred - anything not to remind her of the most recent decision she had to make.

Using the strap on her shield, she slung her shield onto her back. She then rested her mace on her shoulder while still clutching the weapon, and with her free hand she made small adjustments to her cleric’s robe and her mail armor underneath.  All of this was to make herself slightly more comfortable, in order to make a not so comfortable decision.  In her new, slightly more comfortable pose, she pondered her options - both of them.  It was still either left or right.  

Kadren stared hard into the faint, gloomy light of the underground cave, as if she might be able to discern some sign that would indicate what the correct choice would be.  Sparse torches were mounted along the cave walls; their feeble light tickled the rocky faces of the walls, and lit the two eerie passageways ahead.  But other than the listless, dancing shadows made by the torchlights, she could see nothing of significance.  After a while of pointless staring, she looked back up again to where she had fallen down from, even though she knew full well there was no answer there either.  The opening in the cave roof in which she fallen through had been resealed by the devious, well-hidden trapdoor.  She could barely make out a faint gleam of its metallic components now, in the darkness of the cave high up.  

She had been mindlessly exploring aboveground in the abandoned manor, trying to have some time alone with her thoughts, and away from the others, when she fell through the trapdoor (or trap-floor as Kadren thought of it).  She barely had time to scream before she landed painfully in a net, which saved her from a deadly meeting with the ground far below, but the net was no friend; its purpose was only to keep her alive, not to keep her out of danger.  Through some unseen mechanism, the net was lowered at a good pace to the ground.  Kadren tried to climb up the ropes that attached the net to the ceiling, but she was not quick enough.  The net, along with the ropes, detached from the whole contraption up above, sending Kadren downwards again, but from a survivable height.  She rolled with the momentum as she hit the ground, and the large net landed with a scattered thump next to her.

Kadren lay there for a brief moment after her fall, aching, panting, relieved, and a little bit giddy.  But her moment of reprieve did not last long, as she suddenly remembered how she got down there, and realized that someone or something had set the trap.  She was grateful to be alive, but frightened, at the same time, that some mastermind had wanted her down there, alive.  She looked all around with desperate intent, and found herself in a large chamber of the cave, the size of a magnificent great hall.  There were two passageways ahead - the ones she would painfully mull over - that tunneled into the rocky face of the chamber ahead, one left, one right.  Other than that, it was just expressionless, rocky walls, looming over her, stony and immovable.  She then searched the cave walls closely for an escape, striking at the wall occasionally with her mace to test for weak spots, but she found none.  She kept on as such for some time, all the while keeping extremely aware of her surroundings, looking out for enemies.  But she could find no exit, and she continued to be left alone.  

Finding that her physical strength was of no use in escaping her rocky prison, Kadren decided to test the strength of her magic, which she believed was also a test of her faith.  All the magic that Kadren learned from the Order was in tribute and deference to the Infinite Father.  

“Please, God, give me strength,” she whispered, and she placed her mace and shield on the ground.

She then stood up straight and began chanting, while her hands were making fluid gestures to and fro, and her fingers were making occasional fluttering patterns.  As she continued casting her spell, a ball of fire began forming about two paces in front of her, starting off as just a speck of light, and growing larger and larger by the moment.  It was a bright flame, white and yellow, whiter and hotter than a regular flame, and much rounder as well.  This fireball was in the image of the Holy Symbol, the Solary - a symbol of the sun, bright and eternal - a symbol of God.  As the fireball grew in size, so did the volume of Kadren’s voice, and it became harsher sounding as well.  

She built up the fireball to a size that was a little larger than her head, before she could hold on no longer, and had to let it go.  She hurled the fireball at the cave wall. There was some sizzling and crackling as the fireball made contact with the wall, and a burst of light ignited as the fireball expanded suddenly and spectacularly on impact.  But when everything cleared, there was hardly a dent in the cave wall, only an unimpressive layer of dust and fine rubble.  What was impressive, however, were the scorch marks, angry and black; they etched into the wall Kadren’s strong desire to escape. 

Kadren stood there, taking steadying breaths, feeling a little drained, with a faint sheen of sweat on her forehead.  She was disappointed, but not surprised.  She had known that her magic would not avail her, but she felt she had to try, hoping for a miracle.  She wanted to avoid walking deeper into enemy territory, and making her own exit was the way to do that.  She would not try magic again though; it would be prudent to conserve her strength, at this point, for any possible hostile encounter.  She picked up her mace and shield, then looked around again for new ideas, but none came to her.  Finally, in desperation, she yelled up to where she had fallen from, multiple times, risking her enemy’s knowledge of her presence, hoping that one of her companions might hear her cries for help.  But she heard neither friend nor foe reply, only the echoes of her own voice, the hollow silence that ensued, and the pounding of her heart.  After a while, Kadren decided that her only options were the two paths ahead.  And so there she was, staring pointlessly ahead at the two passageways, delaying the inevitable choice she had to make.

Kadren sighed as she thought about the others.  She hoped they were safe aboveground.  She regretted having separated from them, but it probably could not have been helped, given what happened the night before.  Everyone was ill at ease… mostly just the three of them, Coj, Dern, and Kadren herself, but the other two - Ilmik and Clarelle - sensed the uneasiness in the trio, and so were also affected somewhat.  Everyone spoke little, which was most unusual for Coj and Ilmik, the talkers of the group, and some distance was given and made between everyone and themselves.  Ilmik, the Dwarf, had gone off to investigate the strange pile of boulders they saw off in the distance, and Clarelle, the Sun Elf, had gone to explore the surrounding forests; all very reasonable actions, but, of course, part of the reasoning was to allow the trio to sort out whatever issues they had.  And so the three of them were left in the large manor, all by themselves, with no one to interfere with whatever conversation they needed to have, but they had none.  Only quick words were exchanged between them, and then they were each off re-exploring the various empty rooms of the once-luxuriant household by themselves, hoping to escape the awkwardness for now, and defer whatever needed to be said.

The events from the night before had left Kadren with very mixed feelings.  She was angry at Dern, then angry at herself; she felt sorry for Dern, yet hated him at the same time; she was sure of her love for Coj, but then was even more certain that it was only lust, and not love; she believed that she could love both Coj and God, but then felt like she had betrayed them both.

Last night was supposed to be the night she would finally give herself to Coj, fully.  It was easy to want Coj: his striking presence, tall and handsome; his cheeky ways, endearingly arrogant; his commanding air, natural leadership born of noble birth; his effortless charm, charisma that flowed from one that had always been well-liked, and rarely refused; and of course, his body - statuesque, vigorous, sleek, powerful - a warrior's body, a body that was not just for show, as she had witnessed more than once now, in facing their enemies.  But the reason she loved him, was because he was a good man.  His kindness was his most attractive feature, and his most well-hidden.  Much like finding an elusive gem, the difficulty in finding the treasure made the treasure all the more valuable, and she thought Coj to be the greatest gem in the world.  Why someone of his stature and beauty would want someone like her, she could not say; but oh! the elation it brought her, when he chose to be with her.  How she had longed for him, her virgin mind imagining the ecstasy and completeness that being one with him would bring.  How many times now she had been tingling, flushed, or even moist when she was with him, or near him.  Her flesh had been willing for some time, but her spirit had been struggling; she had her devotion to God to contend with.  A true devotee to God would not allow desires of the flesh to interfere with holy law, which forbade union of the flesh before holy union; but the prospect of marriage was a long and difficult one, and Coj had been so patient already.  She spent many waking hours debating herself, arguing for Coj, arguing for God, but she finally surrendered to her love for Coj, only to have Dern ruin everything.

Poor foolish Dern.  She loved him as a friend, loved him like a brother.  She had known a little of his feelings for her, but she never took him too seriously.  She thought it was just a fickle infatuation that would soon go away; she thought Dern’s feelings for her would quickly fade, as she and Coj grew more and more intimate right in front of everyone's eyes, so she did not change anything in her interactions with Dern.  Perhaps if she had been more distant, and less friendly, perhaps, then, Dern would have given up all hope of being more than just a friend, and left her and Coj alone; but perhaps this was an intervention from God, and Dern was only a messenger.  Even so, she hated Dern for fulfilling his ordained duties.  But, mostly, she was angry at herself; she hated her own indecisiveness and weakness.

She had no idea how to proceed, not only in escaping the underground dungeon, but also in her relationships with Coj, Dern and God.   However, Kadren felt that choosing a path in the cave was going to be a lot easier than any decisions she had to make about her relationships.  Choosing between two things she did not like seemed a lot easier than choosing between two she loved - left or right was easier than God or Coj, because either passageway was fraught with danger, so it made no difference to her, but she could not stand to lose her lover or her God.  Thus, having finished her contemplation, Kadren took one last look around, worked up her courage one more time, and forged on ahead.

--------

Coj swung at the creature with one swift stroke of his sword, and it lay fallen on the cave floor before him, dark blood seeping from the large gash in its neck.  It appeared to be a small goblin-like creature, unclothed and weaponless.   It was no bigger than a prepubescent child, and it attacked with the untrained wildness of one; it stood no chance against Coj.  Coj stuck his sword in the corpse, one more time, just to be sure, then took the set of keys that the creature had around its neck.

He looked around and back to where he had come from, to make sure there were no other enemies.  He saw no other dangers in the dimly-lit darkness, which he peered through with relative ease, due to the keen sight he inherited from his elven ancestors.  Coj had ended up in the same underground cave as Kadren (unbeknownst to him), through a secret chute that he had found behind the fireplace of the master’s chamber.  Rather than go back to his companions to inform them of his finding, he decided to climb down the stone chute and venture off on his own.  Everybody was in a dreary mood anyway, including himself, so he went down the chute just for a whimsical adventure.  

When he reached the bottom of the secret chute, it was completely dark, save for the barely visible light that trickled down from the opening directly above.  The only way forward was ahead of him, but it was pitch black.  Coj unsheathed his sword once more, and he made a gentle humming noise.  His blade immediately began to glow.  It was still very dark, even with the glowing blade, but it was enough light for Coj’s elven eyes to see fairly well.  He could see that he was in a narrow passage that led ahead to complete darkness.  He hesitated for just a moment, contemplating whether or not to inform the others, but quickly decided to continue exploring on his own.  There was no point alarming the others unless he found something.  He did.

No sooner had he taken a few steps, he heard a click, and he sprang back, quick as a blink, to avoid whatever trap he had triggered, but nothing harmful came his way.  There was, however, the sound of grinding stone, and then a thud; the secret entrance above had closed.  Coj thought it was a fairly ingenious design, to allow the residents of the manor to flee, and conveniently cover up their tracks from below.  He noticed now that he had accidentally stepped on the triggering mechanism, which was a large camouflaged tile set in the ground.  He looked back towards the entryway of the chute, and saw that the faint light from above had disappeared.  

Well, nothing else to do now…  So he ventured forth.

He walked through the narrow passageway and eventually came upon the exit.  When he stepped out of the narrow passageway, he realized he was in an underground cave.  At the far side of the vast chamber he was in, he saw something that he welcomed: light.  It was very faint, but still very noticeable in the black darkness.  Coj was delighted to know the exit was ahead; he headed towards the light.

But the further along he went, the more he sensed that something was amiss.  When he had first touched down on the cave floor, he thought he sensed a presence, but it was a very brief, fleeting thought, and he dismissed it as just something he had imagined.  But now the warning in his mind had returned, and though it was still very subtle, it would not go away.  His intuition told him that there was an enemy about, that he was not alone in the underground cave, and that, perhaps, the villagers had not been wrong after all; there really was something evil lurking around.  Right after having those thoughts, the light from the exit ahead ceased to delight him, because he now noticed that it did not look like sunlight to his keen eyes.  He also smelt in the air no escape ahead.  There were no sounds of freedom, no rustling of leaves, or whispering of the breeze, or distant birdsong.  He was now halfway across the large chamber, and close enough to the exit that if it were an exit to the outside, his keen senses would have picked up some signs.  But that was not the case: the light ahead was firelight, artificial; the air was old and stale; and there were no pleasant sounds of freedom.

Coj now wondered whether the activating tile he had stepped on, which closed the secret entrance, was built by the former masters of the house, or whether the entire contraption had been recently modified to trap victims down below.  He also began to sense some magic at work in the underground cave.  Elves, besides being blessed with keen senses, are also born with magic.  Coj was not a magician; he was a warrior.  He did not have the patience for magic as a formal study, but, like his elven ancestors, and like many powerful warriors, magic was ingrained in many things he did.  Part of Coj’s inherited abilities was the ability to sense the presence of magic.  He could sometimes even sense the general purpose and intent of the magic, and he did not like what he sensed in that underground cave, but he could not say exactly why he did not like it.  Perhaps the trace of magic was too faint for him to make that judgment.  It felt like the one who cast the spell had long since gone, or was still about but too far away.

He exited the pitch dark chamber and entered into another large chamber, where his suspicions were confirmed: torchlight (and no sunlight anywhere to be found).  Lit torches sparsely lined the walls, proving there really was someone down there.  Coj went on ahead, bravely, excited, and only a little afraid.  He was happy to do what he had trained his whole life to do, to do what he had always dreamed of doing, to be a warrior, to be worthy…

And so there he was, standing over a dead, goblin-like creature.  The chamber Coj was in now was smaller than the ones before, and at one end of the chamber, were housed three large jail cells.  The cells were built into the walls of the cave, so that the cave wall formed the unbreakable backs of the cells.  They stood side by side, with metal bars separating each of them.  As Coj peered ahead into the darkness of the cells, he noticed they were vastly empty, save for a small figure lying in the far corner of the middle cell.  It was a female… human?  Coj quickly, but cautiously went up to the cell.  

When he was closer, he saw that she was definitely human, or a person at least, and that she was a prisoner in need of rescue.  She had been lying down on a thick layer of straw, her bed apparently, but she sat up with a start as Coj neared, surprised and alarmed, since Coj’s stealth gave her no warning of his approach, and the goblin-like creature had died a relatively quiet death.

“Don't worry.  I'm going to free you,” said Coj.

With his sword still in one hand, he used his free hand to insert the keys he had found on the goblinoid into the lock.  He tried several keys before the right one unlocked the cell.  He swung the cell door open and looked to the one he had just rescued.  The dim light of the cave was even weaker inside the cell, so Coj began humming his blade to glowing again, to shed some light on the dark cell so that she could see he was no threat.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

She was a human damsel, but the enchantingly refined facial features made Coj wonder if she had some elven blood in her, from some distant ancestor.

“I'm alright now.  Thank you kindly, brave sir.”  

Coj guessed that she was one of the villagers, based on her common garb and speech.

“Did they hurt you?  Are you in need of healing?”

“I'm fine, now.  Really.  Thank you.”  

Her gaze met his, but then it immediately fell downwards, away from his, her eyes fluttering demurely, and Coj thought he saw blushing.

Coj was taken aback a little.  He was quite used to having that sort of effect on females, but he usually saw this type of reaction after having actively seduced his target; he did not expect to see it in a damsel he just rescued.

“There’s no need for thanks. It is my sworn duty to help those in need.  But come, let’s hurry.  We don't know what evil lurks around the corner.  Have you seen any guards around?”  He reached out his free hand to help her up as he asked his question.

“I didn’t see no guards.”  She took his hand and stood up with his help.  “We’ve nothin’ to worry about no more, thanks to you, my hero.”

She smiled at him, and Coj saw now that she was definitely blushing.  He felt a little awkward in front of this grateful admirer, a rarity for Coj, who tended to know exactly what to say, and what to do next in his vast experience with females.  With no witty remark or winning overture at hand, all Coj did now was give a reassuring smile back, which ended up a bit more twitchy than he wanted, as often happens when one forces a smile in stressful circumstances.  After holding the awkward smile for as long as he could, he quickly turned around and went to the doorway.  He was eager to leave the area as soon as possible, because alarm bells were ringing loud in his mind.  The presence of malignant magic had become significantly stronger in the jail area, and even though his new acquaintance denied having suffered any harm, there was something not quite right with her.  She seemed to have suffered no outward injury, but she seemed not entirely untouched inside.  He felt that she should be brought to a healer as soon as possible.  However, the urgency he felt was not solely for the damsel he rescued, but also for himself.  He feared that the enemy's magic had already begun its work on him.  He felt that his senses and faculties had become less sharp, and there was a fragrant scent in the air that he instinctively hated.  He covered his nose with the nook of his arm, but then quickly realized it was a useless, impractical gesture, so he resolved to focus on the main plan of action, which was to escape quickly.  For now, he mustered all his inner strength to fight the insidious magical assault.  Any lesser man would have been much more affected already, but Coj was still able to maintain sound reasoning.  At the jail door, he peered outside the cell to make sure the exit was still secure.  Satisfied that it was, he motioned for her to follow him.  But she did not.  

She stood there motionless, staring at him with a strange look.  Coj guessed that perhaps the sight of his sword gave her doubt, so he made a couple of quick, deft movements with his still-glowing sword to get some of the blood off, wiped his blade onto the ends of his surcoat, and sheathed his sword.  The cell immediately became dimmer.

“Come.”  He held out his hand.  “I mean you no harm.  I promise.”

“I know.  You’re my hero,” she said.  “But I'm real shook up.  I need some time to calm my nerves.  Won’t you be near me for a li’l while?”

“We haven't the time, miss!  We must go!  Please!  Muster your strength and courage.  Our health and security depend on it.”

“I can't!  Please, my hero.  Please come by my side for just a li’l bit. ”  She sat back down.

Being who he was, Coj could not say no to a maiden in need, despite all the misgivings he had for staying even a moment longer; so he went to her, in hopes that he could quickly convince her to start moving.

“Good-miss, I know you are frightened.  But you need to trust me.  It's going to be alright.  I promise.”  Coj tried to sound as reassuring as he could.  “I will get you out of this awful place.”

Coj sat down next to her and gently laid his hand on her shoulder.  She smiled again at him.  He noticed for the first time that she was rather alluring.  It almost seemed like her face had changed since they first met, even though he knew it had not.  When Coj first saw her, he had seen that she had a face that most might deem fair, but he did not recall her being this beautiful.  The alarms rang even louder in his head; this was probably part of the enemy's magic.  He also began noticing her figure underneath her simple chemise and kirtle, and she seemed rather… healthy.

Kadren!…  Coj immediately focused his thoughts on his love, to give himself strength.  He had a feeling he was going to be tested.

“I'm sorry I'm so useless,” she said, almost with a pout.  “I'm just so scared...  I’ll just be needin’ a moment of comfort, and bein’ near you comforts me so...  I wish I could be of service to you in some way... to repay you, to give my thanks.  I'm real grateful..."  She placed one hand delicately on her bosom in a gesture of sincerity, but something about that gesture and the way she subtly repositioned her body was rather suggestive.

Coj shifted uncomfortably.  The magic was getting stronger.  He had to get out of his current predicament quickly.  Coj had fought his way out of dangers before, with sword and skill alone, but this was a situation his sword could not solve for him - not yet anyway; his true enemy had still not shown themselves yet.  This poor damsel was just an unwitting puppet.

“There’s really no need for thanks.  I'm happy to be of service.  But my good-miss... you must, please, be brave… be strong!  We will be alright.  But we have to leave, now!  There is an evil spell about; I can feel it.  We must leave now before we succumb t---"

Coj stopped speaking, as she began unlacing the front of her kirtle.

“It's so warm in here!” she explained offhandedly.  

Coj did feel it had gotten warmer, but he was not sure if it was their environment that had gotten warmer, and he definitely did not feel it warranted undressing.  

“Are you warm?” she asked.  “Perhaps we’d both be feelin’ better with less layers.” 

She stood up and began slipping out of the half-undone garment.  

“I would feel better if we left this place!” said Coj, suddenly agitated, and he stood up and away from her.

The kirtle had come off, and she stood there with her chemise on, gazing at him with a quiet yearning.  The simple fabric did little to hide her curvaceous shape.  

“Please don't be upset with me, m’lord.  I’m not wishin’ to upset my saviour.  I’m only wishin’ to spend some time in comfort before we got to face whatever be waitin’ for us out there.  I’m hopin’ to give you comfort too.  I want to show my gratitude… but I got nothin’ to give, but myself.  Please, m’lord.  Take me.  I give myself to you..."  She closed her eyes and opened her arms, as if offering herself up as a sacrifice.  

Coj swallowed hard.  The magic was getting stronger, and he could feel his will becoming weaker; any lesser man would probably already be out of his clothes, if not out of his mind.  Coj gathered the remainder of his inner strength to fight the enemy's increased onslaught.  The presence of ill-intentioned magic was subtle no longer, and there was a clear and palpable intention pressing in on Coj, trying to make him yield, but Coj would not be conquered so easily.   He wanted to strike back at the enemy, but he still could not sense the physical presence of the enemy nearby; the enemy was somehow pouring in their evil magic from afar, and waiting until they were both vulnerable before striking.  

“My good-miss…  Please.  Compose yourself…”

She looked pained.  “Do you not like me, m’lord?  I’m all I've got to offer…”

“This is madness!” said Coj, and he angrily stormed towards the entrance and yelled, “Come out!  I know you’re out there!  Fight me now, you coward!”

But there was no response except the distant-sounding echoes of his own voice.  Coj peered out, intensely, into the dimly-lit cave, scanning every inch of the place, looking for something he could put his sword to.  He was tired of fighting a losing battle, and was hoping for a clash of swords, something he was used to winning.  But there was no fight to be had, only the ever-present force that was trying to bend Coj to the enemy’s will, which had already made a puppet out of his new companion.  Coj did not know what to do.  He could not just leave her behind.  

“Please don't be angry!  Please!” she pleaded.  “Come back, m’lord, please!  Please, be with me!”  

Coj sighed heavily, but did not turn around.  He was running out of time, and running out of options.  His defense against such an incessant magical assault could not hold up forever.  Thoughts of giving in were already creeping in on him, and he found his mind wandering towards her chemise and what was underneath.  He had to act quickly.  He would have to bring her along against her will.  He did not know exactly how to go about it, but he would perhaps tie her up, if needed.  Whatever he decided to do, he would have to do it quickly.  Thus resolved, Coj turned around to face the unpleasant task ahead.  

When he turned around, he encountered yet another complication: she was undressing again.  This was not totally unexpected, but it still managed to catch Coj by surprise, and he stood there dumbfounded as she stripped the remaining layers of clothing.

After she was done, she stood there completely naked, with desperate longing in her eyes.  She then made her way towards Coj, and her nude form looked more ravishing than he had imagined.

------

Dern backed slowly away from her, as her ample breasts flashed before his sight, causing a fluttering panic in him.  He must not become attracted to her, that was the warning in his mind.  But that was an impossible task, for standing before him was a maiden of exquisite beauty who had just completely disrobed, her chemise, kirtle, and undergarments on the floor around her feet.

She had a lovely human face with features in it that made Dern wonder about possible elven ancestry.  Her figure was extremely voluptuous.  In fact, she was almost too curvy, like an exaggeration of some male fantasy.  Moreover, there was a lot about the present situation that was a little peculiar…

Soft skin, full breasts, inviting hips, and long legs lingered in his mind as he looked away quickly, with his hands held up, as if to shield himself from a bright light she was emitting.

“P-please, please put your clothes back on,” Dern stammered.  She did not heed his request.

“Come, good sir.  I must repay you,” she said, and she began advancing.

He kept backing away, keeping his eyes on the ground, and darting his eyes behind him to find his next step.  “No, no.  It's okay.  No repayment necessary.  The least I could do, really...”

But still he saw her alluring form advancing in the periphery of his vision, and, despite himself, he continued to become more aroused.

“Alright.  H-how about just a couple of silver pieces then, when we get you back to your family?”

She did not answer, but kept moving towards him, as he kept backing away.

“Just a hug?...” he asked feebly.

She kept advancing.

Dern had a fleeting sense of irony that an unattached man should be cowering away from an overtly friendly female of desirable proportions, but he found several things unsettlingly odd about his current situation.  He wondered why a prisoner kept in a dank, dark dungeon would appear insatiably well; how her milky-white skin could still be so healthy-looking that it almost seemed to glow in the dim light of the cell; why her first reaction after being rescued would be to become intimate with a stranger; and why a wondrous beauty like her would even want a common, bookish servant like himself.  No woman ever wanted Dern; they all wanted Coj - Master Cojil.  Even Kadren...

Furthermore, he sensed magic about.  Dern was born a regular human, but he had trained as a wizard.  He was a very unimpressive wizard - as he was often reminded, but like any magician who has been immersed in magic for a while Dern could often sense the general purpose and intent of nearby magic.  And he did not sense what he liked.  There was some entity that meant to do harm.  Dern did not believe (or did not want to believe) that the maiden was the source of evil, but he had a feeling that she was not fully in her right mind.

Dern was also keenly aware of the fact that he was in enemy territory.  He had fallen down a trapdoor, much like Kadren had (unbeknownst to him), but in another room of the manor.  In trying to find his escape from the underground dungeon, he had ended up in his present, erotic predicament.  As he kept trying to keep his unexpected admirer at bay, Dern anxiously felt every second slip away; the longer he stayed in the underground dungeon, the less chance he saw of escaping unscathed.  He did not know if there were enemies just around the corner.  The more he thought about the possible dangers, the more he wanted to be free of his current situation.  He wished he had been more aware of where he was going, for he now noticed he was retreating deeper and deeper into the cell, and his lovely captor was between him and the exit.

But even as all these thoughts of danger and caution filled his mind, he felt like something was gently suppressing them, and he felt a persistent urge to give in to the maiden’s offer, even with all his misgivings.  In fact, Dern felt that he was only half-hearted in his refusals towards her.  Ever since stepping into the jail area, Dern found it gradually more difficult to focus on his stream of thoughts, like his thoughts were little fish slipping away quicker and quicker from his grasps.  He had to laboriously remind himself what he was thinking about, and, more than once, he had to think hard on why he felt such a tremendous sense of danger, as he had momentarily forgotten.  Dern was certain that all the struggles with his thinking was not just because an amazingly beautiful temptress was moving towards him; there was definitely some malignant magic in the air.  In fact, there was now a faint pleasant scent becoming more and more noticeable, and Dern wondered whether it was playing a part in fogging up his mind.  

He could not tell if the scent was coming from the maiden or not; nevertheless, he reasoned that preventing further inhalation of the scent would likely be beneficial.  Yet, he hesitated, for he was afraid that covering his nose might offend his lovely new acquaintance.  He immediately admonished himself after having that thought, because it meant there was a part of him that was hoping to be able to take up the enticing offer.  Indeed, the thoughts of just giving in were becoming progressively stronger and more frequent, with deluded reasonings accompanying those thoughts, such as the reasoning that he truly did have enough time for a quick romp before making their escape, or that there really were no more enemies left, and they were completely safe now; all of which, he did not truly believe.  The opposing thoughts in his mind, the gentle yet persistent fog over his thinking, the indecision, the hesitation, the fear, the ever increasing arousal… it was all very dizzying.  He knew he had to act quickly, if he were to maintain his faculties and escape.  

Before he could muster up any plan of action, however, Dern suddenly felt an ice cold dread, for his back was now against the wall, and he had nowhere else to go.  All he could do was was watch, as his dreadfully beautiful doom moved closer and closer towards him.  

“Please!” he pleaded.  “We really should get out of here! We can talk about repayment once we've escaped.”  

She did not reply.  She only kept advancing.

He kept his eyes on her feet to track her progress; he dared not look up, in fear he would instantly succumb to his male weakness.

“Please, stop… please…” he uttered, weakly.  

No response.  

He felt it harder and harder to keep up logic and fear, as she moved closer towards him, but he knew he must somehow force himself to stay afraid and logical.  What could he do?  Should he threaten her?  What if she really was innocent?  She would not follow him after he threatened her, and he couldn’t just let her stay in the dungeon to meet her doom, no matter how inconvenient she made things; she was not the enemy.  Or was she?  Maybe his instincts were wrong, and she was the enemy all along.  But that didn't make sense; she just couldn't be the enemy.  There was no malignant intent coming from her.  Maybe he could just quickly give her a kiss; surely there could be no danger in that?  There was probably no danger at all; he was probably just imagining things.  After all, what would an unimpressive wizard like himself know about detecting an enemy’s magic.  If there really was a powerful enemy around, they would be able to hide their presence from such a lowly magician.  But, still…

Or maybe just embrace her, touch her, feel her, just let her know he was willing, and they could finish their encounter after they had escaped.  After all, it would be extremely rude of him to reject her show of gratitude.  And there really was no reason that he shouldn't be with this beautiful woman.  His luck had finally changed; finally he was wanted.  Why would he turn away from his overdue good fortune?  Who would care?  He had no one to call his own, no one who cared for him.  He had only ever cared for one, and she had made it plain she did not want him.  

Kadren...  Visions of her flashed before him.  Kadren and her voluminous, sheeny black hair; her kind, bright, brown eyes; her endearing smile; her darker skin hinting of southern origins - the skin she had learned to love… the skin he had always loved...

And suddenly, in a moment of clarity, he knew exactly what he had to do.  He could not figure out why he had not thought of it before; it was so obvious to him now:  Run!  It seemed absolutely absurd to him that he did not think of this before.  This was no time to worry about being rude.  He could always apologize later, once they escaped, but there would be no apology if the enemy came for them while they lingered down there.  He had to leave his persistent admirer, now!  He could regroup later, and figure out how to rescue her, but for now he had to get himself out of there, otherwise they could both be doomed.  

But it was too late.  She was upon him.  He could not move.  His limbs suddenly felt like dough, and only one part of him steadily became more rigid.  He had to steady himself against the wall.  His flesh tingled as she caressed him gently over his tunic, under his travelling cloak and leather armor.  Her scent was intoxicating.  Was it the scent he noticed earlier?  He could not say.

Mesmerizing eyes, a seductive smile, her enchanting face swam in and out of his vision.  She leaned in for a kiss, and his vision cleared into a tunnel, focused solely on her luscious lips.  He knew it was over.  The enemy had won.  He would not be able to refuse those lips.  And once their lips touched, he would be completely spellbound, and utterly doomed.