Suitable for a general audience |
This is Fantasy Boys XXX entry for the 23rd Drabble Cascade.
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Author's Note
This week's word is 'tree' and this is my flash fic. It was supposed to get to sexy times, but I ran out of words so there will be a sequel :). This one is PG for a flash of bum.
This week's word is 'tree' and this is my flash fic. It was supposed to get to sexy times, but I ran out of words so there will be a sequel :). This one is PG for a flash of bum.
Supplicant
by Tasha D-Drake
Fyran stepped into the sacred glade and felt the magic and life of the place stir under his bare feet. He had been here before of course, when he first came to the sanctuary, but never as a sorcerer supplicant. He had been to the sacred pools and performed the ritual cleansing and now he came to ask to be accepted into the ranks of the sorcerers who protected this magical place.
He'd been five when brought here by his uncle. His parents had been killed by the armies invading their land and he and his uncle, with many others, had sought refuge in the forest. Each granted asylum had been brought to the glade and shown to the trees and that was when Fyran's life had changed forever. He had laughed and giggled as the trees spoke to him and it had been the first step on his path to now.
[He's back,] he heard whisper in his mind.
[The little one, my how he's grown,] another voice, this one female said.
The sounds came from nowhere and everywhere at the same time and he looked around at the huge trees. Some said the spirits were those of long dead sorcerers, still tied to their duty, others that they were beings from the world beyond, touching ours in this one place. Fyran didn't know which was true, but then it really didn't matter. The power was in him and he had spent fifteen years learning how to feel it and how to be what he needed to be and now it was time for it to be released.
"Please," he said, standing tall in the centre of the glade, "I come to offer myself as supplicant."
[Come closer,] a male voice whispered to him and he turned instinctively towards a huge, gnarled tree even though there was no direction to the sound.
He did as he was asked without pausing for thought.
[Closer,] the voice said when he stopped a respectful distance away.
As soon as he was within two feet a shoot lanced out of the tree, wrapping around his waist and rucking up the short tunic he was wearing. He blushed, because he was pretty sure he was flashing the rest of the glade with his arse.
[Well formed,] he heard a female voice say and then laugher tickled at the back of his mind.
[Climb.]
The male voice was commanding and he obeyed without question. Climbing a sacred tree seemed disrespectful somehow, but he pulled himself into the branches. He was amazed when he found a bower about half way up, made of vines and soft leaves.
[Make yourself comfortable.]
Not sure what else to do, he sat down and almost jumped out of his skin when a soft green shoot curled around his ankle and slowly began to slide up his leg.
[I have been waiting for you,] the voice told him. [That first day we all wanted you and I had the strongest claim.]
"What do you ask of me?"
[Everything.]
Fryan felt the power inside of him flicker and he knew he would give what was asked.
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Having now an image of what a nemeton is now with the imagery as done by Lucan and 'The Supplicant''s drabble added; I want.
ReplyDeleteMagical fictions with glades like this require additions to that world. It seems like such a yummy 'verse to explore.