top of page
Search

Comfort of Two CH4

  • Writer: Danni Lynn
    Danni Lynn
  • Apr 16
  • 38 min read

Updated: Apr 17

Commissioned by: anonymous

Written by: Danni Lynn

Date: 2024-2025

Word Count: 70,000 words

Synopsis: If surviving a world war as a drafted soldier is not already hard enough to handle, try falling into a strange fantasy world and straight into a battle of monsters, humans, and elves, bristling with medievalesque-weaponry and magic. Markus is determined to make his last stand, to protect a village of innocents, when the beautiful Sisters of Twilight burst onto the scene and change his life forever.

Disclaimer: This story is a work of OC-insert fanfiction. All characters and storylines belong to the rightful owners. This is a work of fanfiction, I do not claim ownership over any of these characters or ideas.

CW: Character death, action, violence, nudity, explicit sexual content, language, scary situations, & war.


NSFW Content: Due to the NSFW nature of this piece, the entire, uncensored chapters can be found here on my Wix website for 18+ readers only. A closed-door romance, censored- version of the story can be found over on Squarespace.

Chapters 1-3 do not have any NSFW content so you can read them all on Squarespace. There is NSFW content in chapters 4 through the epilogue so those can be read on Wix for 18+ readers only:

  • Chapter 1: Squarespace

  • Chapter 2: Squarespace

  • Chapter 3: Squarespace

  • Chapter 4: Censored version below, uncensored NSFW version HERE.

  • Chapter 5: Censored version below, uncensored NSFW version HERE.

  • Chapter 6: Censored version below, uncensored NSFW version HERE.

  • Epilogue: Censored version below, uncensored NSFW version HERE.


Chapter Four

“What you need to know about our world is that our lives—”

“Our creation—”

“Began with an event called, The Sundering.”

Arahan, Naestra, and I were in my bedroom, and had been talking for hours. I was sitting up in bed, propped up by a pile of pillows. Blankets swathed my legs and a platter of now-only crumbs and various mugs of tea, half-drunk balanced on the bedspread.

Naestra sat near me, on the middle of the bed, cross legged and with her back to the wall. Arahan was at the end of the bed, her legs off the edge as she leaned back, looking at us two and adding to the conversation occasionally.

After being in the wood elves’ mysterious eyrie for almost two-weeks, the sisters were finally opening up to me a little, sharing stories about their world and the other races such as humans, beastmen, and many others. Their previous secretive nature still remained as a protective sheen to their words but, the words between us flowed easier as I began to show interest in their world, driven by an absurd curiosity. All of what they told me was unbelievable to say the least. The more questions I asked, the less things made sense.

Arahan watched me carefully, not saying much. Her eyes traced me, as if reading every flinch or breath I took. Was she expecting me to react negatively? If I frowned when they shared something about their people, would she take it as an insult?

But as I passed each round of questioning—learning about the Empire, ruled by the human factions; dwarves, a race that lived underground, and were sticky about proper payments; Slavic people, the Kislev, who lived in wintery lands under the rule of their Tzar or Tzarina and a Great Bear God Ursun; a kingdom of undead called the Undead Egyptians, or Tomb Kings; lizard people dabbling in magic and ruling over, giant toad-like-creatures and various dinosaurs; and a variety of monster-like races such as ogres, goblins, orcs, and dark elves.

Oh, and vampires. Don’t forget about the vampires. I’m sure I’ll sleep great tonight.

Arahan, as I showed no negative reaction—despite my burning need to grimace in straight-out-disbelief or honest fear in realizing these creatures of nightmares were real—watched, her long, elegant ears dipping down as she focused.

“What is the Sundering?” I asked. The word had a weight to it, almost like a curse.

“A great elven civil war back in 2750 to 2198 IC that shattered our race into the High Elves and Dark Elves,” Naestra answered. “Back then my sister, Arahan, and I were one being—”

“Named, Naestarahan. A young Asrai child,” Arahan said.

“We followed faerie lights into a dark and feared section of the woods.”

“Our soul and very being were split into two by the great demi-goddess, Ariel, one forming out of fear.”

“And one out of love,” Naestra finished.

The Sisters of Twilight, Naestra and Arahan, looked at me. They were identical except for their respective black and white manes of hair. They looked like two opposite sides of one coin, one dark and light, but in knowing more about them and their personalities, I saw them only as two separate women. It was hard to imagine they started off as one. 

“Did it hurt?” I couldn’t stop the words before they came out. I didn’t want to force them to open up about something that must had been so horrific, but the concern pitching my voice into a squeaking mockery of pre-adolescent cracking embarrassment exposed me. I was slowly understanding—or was at least letting myself extend my own disbelief—that this was a world of magic; but splitting a body into two cannot be a simple flick of some demi-goddess’ fingers. It must be something more complex and wrenching than that. Right?

“I only remember the flaming rage of my unfettered anger,” Arahan said. A sneer spread across her face, a slip of pure pleasure. “Nothing was holding me back.”

“I don’t remember much of that moment. Our lives irrevocably changed forever. We led our people, the Wood Elves, into battle as the Civil War raged on. I only focused on protecting them as we navigated that confusing time.”

“But what about now? Why do you keep your people hidden in the woods? Why is it so secretive here if you are so powerful?” The fact that I was still locked up in the room, not allowed to look out my shuttered windows showed an ongoing fear over their safety. I saw how they handled those beastmen. I couldn’t imagine they had many enemies they couldn’t slay on their own.

“We are eternally at war,” Arahan answered.

“Where? In the forest? Outside?”

“We are surrounded by enemies,” Naestra said. “There are many who would like to hurt us.”

“But I thought you keep to yourselves? At least, that’s what I’ve gathered…”

“That’s one way to keep safe. Although, I would prefer we march out and take over any who dare to look at us even in the slightest of wrong ways,” Arahan exclaimed. “The dwarves wish to cut down our trees and use the boughs for fuel. The humans wish to pillage our riches and see us as a foe. They would rather kill than be killed, in their eyes. Wizards wish to harvest the magical essences of our forest and people for their own gains, and there are many who only wish to wreak havoc for their own entertainment, whether we be in their path or not.”

“How do you survive it?”

“We are elite warriors,” Arahan said. She smiled proudly. “Our demigods keep us safe and their magical mists hide Athel Loren in times of trouble. We also have an undefeatable army. Our riders, archers, and guards make everyone tremble in their boots.”

“There have been many battles… but our people are safe. As long as we are here,” Naestra said.

“It’s been a while since we’ve last had a great, bloody battle,” Arahan exclaimed.

“You just fought the beastmen,” I interjected.

“That was merely a hunt. I need hordes of enemies! Piles of dead!”

“Sister, you should only be thinking about maintaining peace in Athel Loren. We do not want to attract more danger and attention that we already receive,” Naestra corrected.

“We can see what this puny human can do in the face of real danger,” Arahan added. She cocked a challenging eyebrow, as if passing an invitation of sorts my way. “After all this help we’ve provided you…”

“Sister!” Naestra yelped. “We already saw what poor Markus is capable of. We are his hosts; we are not going to put him in danger’s way!”

“You can help us squash the stinky dwarves and show the other humans in this world that they are wrong in their conquests.”

“I don’t think I’m the one to change how things work here,” I said. It was already too much to keep track of. I still needed to understand why there were multiple factions or groups of elves here too.

Arahan and Naestra dissolved into a squabbling argument as Arahan made fun of the other magical races in their world and shouted threats to the outside world beyond this room. Their energy was invigorating, pleasant after so many days in bed. But just like every other day, another one passed. Meals were had, evening came, and another fitful night of sleep. After a few more days came and went, and the sisters continued to share new details about their land—past wars, and recent conquests—I couldn’t help but wish I could go outside and see it all for myself.

I knew I should be focused on finding a way to get back home and find my way back to the battlefield, despite it being the last place on Earth where I ever want to find myself again… but these days felt like a dream. And if it were all a dream in my head, I could explore it, right? Take part and see where it takes me as I was unable to do anything else at the moment?

When Naestra and Arahan sat in my room as another evening set over the land, Arahan was gearing up to tell me about another battle from her past when I decided to interrupt and ask the one question that had been weighing on my mind since I woke up here.

“Can I see what you’ve been telling me about?” I asked. When I first arrived, Arahan and Naestra made it very clear how their world and people were meant to be kept as a secret from me. I wasn’t allowed to see where they took me or attempt to leave my room. Arahan threatened my life as well. I had no plans to disobey them, but I knew they were vehemently protective of their forest. But after knowing so much, after seeing them open up and tell me about their lives here, their histories, and what exists out there in the woods… that was more than I’d ever imagined I’d be able to learn while I am here. I expected to be holed up, healed, and then sent on my way.

But to have these stories shared with me? These secrets revealed? Their harrowing experiences were gut-wrenching and frankly hard to imagine despite my own experiences of war. I couldn’t picture a little innocent girl in the woods being turned into two beings. I couldn’t imagine her being forced to grown up and suddenly be a warrior, one of the few stanchions of defense between them and their people.

“The… histories?” Naestra offered, potentially redirecting my question. Arahan’s face darkened but she did not snap or accuse me of having any ill-intentions. She fingered her chin, silently sinking into thought.

“What is outside this room,” I said. “The stories you have been telling me over this last week… I want to see it. It’s hard to imagine what your world is like—not out of a place of curiosity or excitement but to understand the depth of what you are telling me.”

“We can’t let humans see the eyrie,” Naestra said automatically. Her cheeks colored and her ears dipped low. She spoke as if she was reciting a line, a prepared answer they had followed their entire lives.

“I can tell how proud you are of your people and this community. It makes me want to see it to understand the awe of it all. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or make your people feel unsafe, but it is an incredible place. It would be an incredibly humbling experience. I want to get a glimpse of what is important to you. Especially after all you have done for me, I can’t help but care about what you work so hard to protect…” I trailed off. Both sisters hung on every word. One, with watery eyes, the other, stony but intrigued as if she had just come up with a new thought.

“I know what it feels like to have something precious to protect. I might not have been able to protect what was precious to me… but I understand the need to do so. I don’t want to challenge that. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable,” I said.

Arahan groaned. “You are not like other humans in the empire…”

“You are kind,” Naestra summed up.

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” I repeated.

“It would be funny to see your puny human face stretch in shock at our prowess,” Arahan added. “Scare you with our steeds, our forces…”

“I would be honored.”

“But what about the others? Will the wardens allow him to walk outside and see the eyrie? We may give permission for it, but the others are potentially another story,” Naestra said.

“We are the demi-goddesses’ emissaries. We are the ones who can declare the rules here. Everyone listens to us,” Arahan said. “But even more importantly, we are the ones who are the protectors. The slayers of all who wish Athel Loren harm…”

“We are not rulers, sister,” Naestra corrected. “We rule no one. We only protect and serve.”

Arahan rolled her eyes.

“And I am not one of those who wish harm to you or the forest,” I said. “I want to learn. Your passions about your home are drawing me in.” I started to smile. It sounded silly but something about the way they spoke, their royal tonality and overly formal words drew longwinded explanations and wordy exclamations from me, in an unconscious attempt to fit in. I could simply say, I want to see your home, but did I really just say, Your passions about your home are drawing me in?!

I hoped they didn’t laugh at me. I felt silly as I tried to look honest as I could. I had no ulterior motives. I wasn’t trying to pull one over on them nor trick my way into their graces.

Honestly, who wouldn’t want to see an army of elves, a mythical forest, and monstrous steeds? A childlike curiosity was burgeoning in me, begging to ask to see more. It reminded me of my boyhood, long before the war, almost in some bygone era when I imagined fantasy worlds and enjoyed the way my mind wandered when I played my violin when I was younger. Wandering between the curling chords and vibrato of the strings and the images the sounds created in my mind.

Also, I knew I should be afraid of Arahan’s previous threats against my life if I dared leave this room but since she had been hanging around more over the last few days and seemed to give me a little bit of room to exist without her breathing threats down my neck… I wasn’t afraid of the possibility, nor did I think she would strike me down here and now for asking.

They must consider my question. It couldn’t be too bizarre after all we’d talked about!

Naestra looked at Arahan as if she expected her to lose her temper and needed to predict how she might have to protect me if Arahan exploded or lashed out at me for asking to take a peek into their lives. But Arahan did not darken into a murderous rage. Instead, she continued to stroke her chin and looked out at the covered window, her eyes imagining what was beyond it, all unknown to me.

“Our home is important to protect but we have already broken the cardinal rule of never bringing any strangers into Athel Loren’s shade,” Arahan said. “I know I can stop this puny human if he dare try anything… stupid. And I feel I would enjoy doing so except… I do not think I will need to.”

“Sister?” Naestra said.

“I will show you our home,” Arahan said.

***

The poultices, care, and forced rest of too many days had made a huge difference in my healing. After my experiences in the village, and the additional injuries after, the itch and tight pull of my healing skin was a balm to the burning pains I had suffered last week.

I was still in pain, believe-you-me, but as Arahan and Naestra helped me up out of bed and into a fresh pair of clothes—softly woven pants, and a loose shirt—the various shallow wounds only poked at my mind while the deep ache of my broken ribs and stab wounds wormed their way into my attention. My injured leg felt stiff and swollen, more so from little use. It was like walking on a blow-up ball, trying to remind my body how it used to work.

Naestra propped a wooden crutch under my arm and hurried forward to get the door as they carefully led me outside. The bedroom exited into a wooden hallway and small entry room with all the windows tightly shuttered and covered in case I had the ability to get up and peek outside while I had been recovering.

“Do the others know I am here?” I asked. I didn’t know exactly who I was asking about. The general public? Civilians? How many elves were here?

“Oh yes, your entry into our woods has been a hotly debated topic,” Arahan said.

“But we explained you do not mean us any harm,” Naestra said, “and you are a great hero. Our people can understand that.”

Naestra reached for the front door’s handle.

“Now remember, human, if you try to betray us or escape into the woods… you will never be found again,” Arahan warned.

Naestra opened the door and where I expected to see golden sunlight and a wood full of flowers, the door opened to a ghostly, blue-tinted air full of mist and towering ancient trees.

Carefully stepping outside, I breathed in the fresh and pine-scented air. The titan trees covered any glimpse of sunlight and the sky above with their dark canopies. Small homes, much like the one I had stepped out of, were built up and around the trees as if they were a part of the woods themselves.

Large curling boughs, dark with gray bark, were frozen in place, as if slithering across the ground, creating large, looping structures around the glen. The air, cold to my still healing skin inspired a shiver of horror as a rope of wind twisted by, promising dark outcomes should I step out of line.

Naestra and Arahan stood with me as I took it all in. Around us, from the shadows, a large number of elves stepped into view, all dressed in heavy green and brown cloaks and tunics. Some wore armor and others had bows strapped across their backs. Everyone’s pointed ears stood out like a sore thumb to my human eyes and the sharpness of their own eyes seemed to echoe the forests’ promise.

I was beginning to gather, from the stories Naestra and Arahan had shared about fairy lights and splitting souls, alongside the villagers’ fears of disappearing into the woods, that this was not just any average forest.

It protected its secrets and kept promises.

“Welcome to our eyrie,” Naestra said. She was pristine with a shimmer of pride. She stared out into the darkness, most likely seeing something I couldn’t. She saw beauty and grace in the long, drooping boughs. I tried to look closer, breathing shallowly to steady and push away my fear.

The blue and slate shades of the air, highlighted by the curling mist, created a spectral sight. It was almost as if some ghostly creature—or the demi-gods the elves have told me about—had dipped a large brush in white paint and smeared it across the scene, creating an elusive and ghostly sight. My hand, hanging over Arahan’s shoulder twitched. If I had the supplies with me right now, I would love to sit down and try to capture this lighting and landscape in a painting. It was a captivating challenge.

“Is this the soldier?” a male elf standing at the edge of the trees asked.

“This is Guzlith, leader of our local Glade Guard,” Arahan introduced. “He is a brave warrior and has defeated many in protection of Athel Loren.”

“This is he,” Naestra answered.

Another elf came forward. Twisting green paint traced her cheekbones. “Is it true you held off an entire beastmen horde all on your own?” she asked.

“And you survived?” another asked.

“Arahan said you had strange weapons—where are you from?”

A flutter of questions sounded as different wood elves stepped into the opening between the trees. They spoke carefully, holding back their bubbling excitement with a streak of distrust, but the need to know overwon their protective silence.

I felt like I had stepped into a scene in James Cameron’s “Avatar,” and was surrounded by the Na’vi. I had gotten used to the sisters, but seeing an entire group of real-life elves talking to me was already enough to make me want to lie back down. It was amazing but so hard to believe.

Arahan lifted her free arm and pointed to a gathering group of armored wood elves with bows and arrows.

“These are the Glade Guards, they are the core of our army,” she said, ignoring the questions building around us.

“I wasn’t alone,” I tried to answer. “I had help but, I lost…”

“You lived to fight another day,” a guard said.

“A measly human doesn’t have much of a chance against a gruesome horde,” another said. “Impossible.”

“Naestra and I did turn the tide,” Arahan said. She helped me down the stairs and onto the pine-needle covered floor. “But we are out here to familiarize you with our people. Quiet.” She turned to everyone, her eyes narrowing until the questions fell silent.

“Among the citizens, many of our able-bodied youth are our warriors as well. It takes all of us to protect Athel Loren from those who would like to take advantage of it.”

“Athel Loren has many areas. The Deepwood Scouts, who are at their posts, guard the Deepwood,” Naestra said. “Wildwood Rangers guard the dangerous Wildwoods, and the Waywatchers can be found on the edge of our woods, protecting the entrances.”

A single soldier in heavy golden armor, holding a shield and staff stood at a distance. Naestra pointed him out. “The Eternal Guard overlooks our most sacred places when the cold winters settle over the forest.

Everyone looked at me as all the information was piled into my brain. I wanted to answer their questions, I wanted to ask questions of my own… Everyone’s eyes felt like little burners, sinking into my skin with their gaze. I tried to look to one group or another, but the entire place was ready to take me in and figure out everything they wanted to know.

Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself and wedged the crutch under my armpit. I looked up at the gathering crowd as Arahan’s white hair draped across my arm as she helped me stand still.

“Thank you for allowing me into your sacred home,” I said. I spoke to them all as one, my words also meant for the Twilight Sisters. “I am forever grateful for the help you have provided me, and I can only imagine the risks you took to allow my entrance into your sacred grove.”

Murmurs skittered through the crowd. Naestra smiled at me as if she had a secret to hide.

“While we have let you enter, you have yet to see our world, human,” Naestra said. She put a hand on my back and they both guided me toward the crowd who parted like a wave. I stumbled over curling roots and the uneven pitch on the sloping ground.

“This is our home,” Naestra said. We passed between two trees and what I thought was a distant gray backdrop to the forest was instead a large, towering fortress stretching up toward the unseen sky above.

“Welcome to the Eyrie of Twilight,” Arahan said.

The swooping walls opened up to a grand entrance gate and elegant halls. Around us, the ground sloped away steeply as if the entire structure sat on top of a mountain.

“Are we… how high are we?” I asked.

“Athel Loren sprawls across the Pine Crags’ alpine slopes. This gray stone was mined from our forest’s local valleys to blend it into the misty scenery, and to be nearly invisible to an innocent passerby.”

The small wooden structures where I had stayed and behind us were dwarfed in comparison to the true power and design of the wood elves. Naestra and Arahan took me into the main hall, a long sleek room, and gave me a tour of the parapets, inner bailey, and various storage rooms and dormitories where many elves lived. But as I began to get tired, despite my mind buzzing as the new information overwhelmed me, they brought me back outside as evening began to drape the land in darkness and orange glowing campfires appeared throughout the forest.

“We can protect ourselves, but we are here to protect the forest, our home; and the forest protects us. We can hole ourselves up in stone walls and secured galleries, but out here in the fresh air and among the pines is where we feel the most at home,” Naestra said.

Around the campfires, groups of wood elves had gathered. Some plucked away on stringed instruments, others whispered into flutes and soft tunes filled the air with an ethereal warmth. The darkness had peeled back to allow the orange glow of the fires to reflect off the forest’s permanent fog and created a golden cradle of warmth beneath the trees.

“This is… beautiful,” I said.

“This is Athel Loren,” Naestra said.

“You are very lucky to be a human in our good graces,” Arahan agreed. She helped me sit down at the edge of the nearest fire, the others already there, shuffled and made room for me. An elf on my right, her face outlined by the fire’s glow passed me a warm bowl of soup. Another handed me a jug of fresh water and the flutist sitting across the flames struck up a jaunty tune.

The moment was beautiful. After being cooped up in my room for so many days, all the sounds, sights, and senses were fresh and raw. The soup filled my nose with a sharp herb and gamey aroma. The cold water in the jug stung my teeth and the fire’s smoke was all at once woody and aromatic as the floating embers swirled up above toward the midnight canopies above.

“Amazing,” I muttered. I couldn’t muster a well rounded or intricate answer. I was fully drawn in. Astounded.

Arahan sat next to me and Naestra made her rounds, checking in with others and passing out food. Everyone turned to her, smiles on their faces as if she was a motherly figure attending to her brood.

Next to me, Arahan sat with her back ramrod straight. Her eyes scanned the shadows beyond the firelight back and forth before bouncing from one elven face to the next, checking for any distaste or nerves in their eyes. When someone moved toward me or offered me food, she flinched, turning her focus on them as if in warning.

“Thank you for bringing me out here,” I said.

“It is nothing,” Arahan answered. The firelight colored her face, but I couldn’t tell if a blush blossomed across her cheeks or not. Was she just worried? Had I asked for too much?

“I can only imagine how important this place is to you both. I know I would protect it to my last breath, if I were you.”

“That’s where you are wrong,” she said. She turned to look at me, her guard relaxing. Her eyes softened but her raised eyebrows upheld her stern expression. She twisted her lips, suddenly a lot softer than I had noticed before. She had been so angry and tight-lipped up until a few days ago, I had never noticed how plump they looked…

“I would fight from beyond the grave, Ariel allowing…”

I laughed. Arahan scowled and flinched away.

“I’m sure you would.”

“I would do anything,” she scoffed. “So you better be—”

“I believe you. I wouldn’t expect anything less,” I said. I waved her offense away and focused back on the gathering. The musicians dipped into a softer tune and once my spoon started to scrape the bottom of my quickly emptying bowl, I relaxed and settled to just watch the fire before me.

If this was what everyday was like in the forest, I could see myself staying here forever. The peace was immense. The warmth of the fire a balm…

Past the fire and toward the trees, a small figure approached from the stone fortress. It was an elf, but its body was ungainly and skinny like a young colt. The figure hopped over, dodging between spots of undergrowth and slipped in and out of the shadows.

I followed it, watching its shy approach. Finally, it crept to the side of the fire and sat next to another elf, putting the adult between itself and me. Small, dark eyes peered over the other elf’s shoulder, and I realized I was staring at not only a small wood elf but… a child?

Unless all the children in the forest were generally hidden away, this was the only one I had seen so far. Everyone had been adults and judging by their long lifetimes, children may be rare among their people.

The little one had long, dark hair and wore a simple smock and cloak against the nighttime chill. His brow was smooth, unlined with any worry or age. He peered at me as if I was a new phenomenon, something he couldn’t quite understand.

Honestly, same child. Same.

I lifted my hand in his direction, but he flinched and hid behind the elf.

Arahan, noticing, chuckled.

“That is Dartath. He is still young, frightful,” she said. “But he will grow up to be a strong warrior one day.”

“Under your tutelage?”

“With all of us,” Arahan said. “We all help each other grow.

I wonder when the last child was born to the wood elves? My brain sidestepped and skittered down a different train of thought, feeding me imaginations of stoic Arahan or the peaceful Naestra carrying a child. Or even better, both at once. The swell of their bellies and breasts, their fierce protective natures taking over their opposite personalities…

Something warm stirred in my belly and it wasn’t the hot meal. I swallowed, trying to chase away the thoughts. I’d only just met them, it was quite inappropriate to think about.

But my mind drifted, and as Arahan stayed next to me and Naestra later came to sit with us, I couldn’t help but imagine…

***

The next morning, Naestra woke me up early and led me outside. Unlike the previous day, slivers of golden sunlight managed to slip through the thick canopy above, casting everything in a green and golden wash of colors. Unlike the chillingly haunting scenery I had seen before, a true, untethered beauty unfurled itself today. I craned my head back and twisted around for a better look as we slowly made our way around the fortress to the stables.

“Something to keep your hands busy, and to help you get to know our world,” she said. She walked close to my side, keeping a hand floating by my back as I stumbled along. The crutch was annoying and rubbed my armpit raw, but it allowed my stiff body limited, yet grateful motion.

“Action is the best healing,” Naestra said as we slowly made our way around the corner of the large stone structure. Ahead, low stables stretched along the stone walls, walled in as a part of the main outer bailey. Neighing horses filled many of the stables and sheds full of shining horse-armor, bridles, and saddles were nearby.

The smell of hay and manure filled my nose as we got close. Each horse had a long, silver face and shimmering manes.

“Do you ride normal horses?” I asked. The large eagle-thing Arahan and Naestra had rode into the beastmen conflict—something I had a hard time remembering clearly—was not here. To find simple steeds was a little anticlimactic.

“Elven steeds,” Naestra corrected. “The finest in all the lands. No steeds raised by the mortal races can challenge these fine creatures.” She walked up to one of the stalls and reached out, lying her hand on one elven steed’s velvety nose. The horse’s nose flared, and a great gout of its chilled breath rushed from its nostrils to cloud the morning air.

“Do you frequently ride them?” I asked. Imagining Naestra astride one of the stallions, her thighs taught and her back erect as she rode with poise was intoxicating.

“When we were very young, this is how we learned to ride, but my sister, Arahan, and I have two steeds of our own.”

Tickling the horse under its chin, Naestra pulled away and led me further into the belly of the stables. At the far back, wrapped in the warmth of hay and the stink of the stalls’ dust, two very large creatures were curled up, sound asleep.

The first one, on the left, was recognizable. As unreal as the first time I had seen it, the giant eagle was propped up on a perch, with its beak buried in its downy chest. The bird’s massive golden claws and talons were as thick as my middle and its great brown wings and tail feathers draped onto the floor, looking cramped in the little space.

“They prefer the company of the horses, in the chilly mornings,” Naestra explained. “They treat them like their own flock.”

The “they” she referred to was a pair only completed by the second, unrecognizable creature. It was a scaly thing, wrapped around itself like a ball on the floor. Its barrel chest and shoulders were nearly taller than me and great, leathery wings were folded alongside its body.

“What… what is it?” I whispered. A smoky warmth emanated from the creature’s body and deep in my darkest fears, a realization whispered a mythic answer.

A dragon? 

There was no way.

Elves, giant eagles, and bestial men were one thing. They were high-fantasy all in themselves but a dragon was the pinnacle of magical beings. Was there anything this world didn’t have?

Like a mouse in the presence of a sleeping cat, sweat immediately prickled down my back, dampening my skin with a cold chill. I swallowed as my mouth became dry and suddenly the progress I had made walking all the way in here was pointless. I was weak, injured, probably smelled unwell to the magical creature—could they sense such weaknesses?—and was nowhere near strong enough to survive it even looking at me the wrong way.

Why had Naestra thought this was a good idea?

“Come meet them,” Naestra said. She left my side and walked to the dragon first. She reached out and stroked a thin finger down his long snout, tucked against his side. The creature’s eyes opened, his outer eyelid flicking open first, and then his inner, translucent second lid peeled open, slowly revealing a giant yellow iris.

The dragon rumbled, slowly lifting his head which was weighed down by a massive set of antlers that looked like they belonged on the head of a moose, rather than this moss-green creature. His lizard eyes slow blinked and the slit of his iris focused on Naestra and the deep, low rumble echoed again.

“I don’t think you should touch it?” I wondered. I reached out to Naestra, still believing we were in immediate danger. Beside her, the great eagle was beginning to stir, opening and closing its beak as if trying to fathom if it were in reality or the dream world.

“Markus, do not be afraid. This is Ceithin-Har, our very brave companion.” As she spoke, the dragon started to get up, unraveling his long limbs and wings within the confined space. Giant spikes, each the size of a small sword or dagger lined his spine all the way down his thick tail. The beast got up, stretched like a cat, and then began to shamble his way past me and outside into the sunlight.

I flattened myself as it walked by, his massive, clawed paws passing only inches from my feet.

Once Ceithin-Har was gone, Naestra began to wake the bird. She opened a crate that was sitting along the back wall and pulled out a set of brushes, combs, and little jars.

“This is Gwindalor, but you have already met him,” she said. “Will you help me groom him? This way you can get to know each other.”

Dread. I only felt dread. I wanted to trust Naestra but the thought of that giant bird pecking me or getting even a little annoyed… filled me with dread.

Naestra held up a carved comb and pet the bird, her hand sinking into its soft feathers. A smile softened her noble features. My dread disappeared. I wanted to see more of her smile.

“I’ll be happy to help,” I answered.

Naestra shined. Her eyes crinkled as her smile spread to a full-faced expression of joy.

I want to make her smile like that every chance I can get.

***

After spending the morning grooming both Gwindalor, who was more than happy to receive the attention, and washing the massive Ceithin-Har; Naestra and I took a break for lunch, a light fish and salad dish, and headed back outside to take a seat on a curling tree root to relax.

The forest peeled away from us, down the great sloping peaks pitching and twisting the invisible horizon beyond the trees. Naestra cradled a small satchel on her lap and leaned back, letting the wind play with her hair. I balanced my crutch in front of me and yearned to capture the green woods, if such a thing could be possible. The woods seemed to extend forever and was all I could see. After years on burnt out battlefields and ruined cities, the sheer amount of greenery made my eyes hurt with relief. The calming colors swirled, despite the patchwork clusters of thorn-riddled underbrush and tall, sharp pines reaching up into the sky. It was at once violent and gorgeous. Unique and sacred.

“Do you think it is beautiful here?” Naestra asked. “Do you see why we protect it so fiercely, when necessary?”

“I do,” I said. “It’s incredible.”

“I see how you drink the view with your eyes,” she said. The wording was odd, but her meaning rang clear. She and her sister, just like the other wood elves, all had an antique way of speaking. But with her bell-like voice, it was adorable.

She reached into her satchel and pulled out a long wooden box. She popped the lock and opened it up to reveal a set of compacted watercolors and two slender brushes.

“What is this?” I asked. How could she have known?

“To keep you busy. Healing is a long road, but I think this is something you will enjoy,” Naestra said matter-of-factly. I don’t think she had any idea how much this meant to me. I took the box. The wood grain was smooth as glass and the teeny-tiny hinges were artfully crafted. Bright colors, reds, yellows, greens, and blues, graced the box. I looked up at Naestra, as she calmly watched me, and wanted to embrace her. Pull her into my arms and tell her how important this was to me. The urge flooded through my senses, overwhelming the need to remain polite and timid in the face of a beautiful stranger. I set the box down and reached for her when a flurry of motion erupted from the forest.

“Sisters! Sisters?!”

A group of Glade Guards hurried toward us with one stumbling between them, clutching his arm.

Naestra leapt up. “What happened?!”

“We were patrolling the edge of the wood when we were attacked,” one hurried. He was supporting the stumbling one whose face was twisted in pain.

“There was a beastman—probably still skulking around from the last skirmish—that suddenly pulled Vaercac out of the woods. We heard him scream but no one had seen it coming,” a guard explained.

As they explained what happened, I was on my feet, instantly analyzing the patient. With an injury present, it took over my full attention. The wood elf was clutching his arm, lower around his elbow and forearm so it was not a shoulder injury, presumably. No blood stained his armor, and he was walking fine, just overcome with pain.

“Is the beastman still there?” Naestra demanded.

“We killed it. It had been previously injured.”

“Someone get the healers!” another yelped. The injured man cried out as someone tried to move him and pull him toward the fortress.

“Hold on!” I shouted. I put my hand up and everyone looked at me in surprise. “I can help him.”

“Markus, thank you, but we need to get him to the healer as soon as possible,” Naestra urged.

“I can help,” I repeated. “I was a medic in the military, I was studying medicine before I was drafted.”

“Studying? So, you don’t know anything yet?” a guard asked.

“Let me see him. I think I know what is wrong.” I approached the guard and helped him sit on the ground.

“Tell me what happened,” I said. The questions I should ask the patient first and their histories all floated in my head but as I had learned in the field, there was no time for that.

“It grabbed my hand and yanked me out of the woods. I felt a sharp pain in my elbow, and it’s hurt ever since. It feels broken!”

“Can you move your elbow?”

He lifted his arm and tried but only cried out in pain again. I took hold of his arm and felt that there was indeed, no movement possible.

When someone was swung around—commonly small children swung by their arms in play, or someone being pulled out of the way of danger—a patient’s elbow could be pulled out of place only to incorrectly reset and push into the very ligament that held it into place. The pain could be excruciating. But as this was a grown man—or, elf—I guess it was possible if a giant monster pulled him in the same way.

“This is a radial head subluxation,” I announced. “Or, a Nursemaid’s Elbow.”

“What?” Everyone looked at me with owlish confusion.

“Your elbow has been pulled out. I just need to reset it and you’ll be better. Pain free,” I promised.

“I think we should take him inside…”

“No,” Naestra said. “I believe Markus can do it. Can you help him?”

“Can I fix it for you?” I asked Vaercac. Tearfully, he nodded.

“I’ll talk through it, okay? I’m just going to pronate your arm…” I stretched out his arm and turned his palm face down. “And then all I’m going to do is gently open up your arm.” I placed my hand on his elbow, keeping the radial head steady as I opened up his arm and guided it back into place. Vaercac yowled but suddenly, he paused and curled his arm back up toward his chest, now able to move it again.

“Do you feel any pain?” I asked. Everyone around me held their breath.

“I… no?” Vaercac whispered. He unbent his arm and stretched it out. “It’s better! Thank you!”

“No worries. I’m glad I could help.”

***

Later in the evening, as the forest was awash in a smoky-yellow glow, Arahan paced the grounds of the fortress. She had come in to see what was happening only when the soldier was taken away to rest inside.

With no direct threat to attack, no enemy to slay, and no direction to take, she fumed silently, forcing one foot in front of the other as her white hair whipped angrily behind her.

I leaned against the fortress wall, watching Arahan go back and forth. The accident had been a clear reminder, waking me up from the magical dream these past two days had been. Here I was thinking I could enjoy the beauty of this forest and the company of the sisters without recognizing the ongoing wars happening outside Athel Loren.

The Sisters of Twilight’s world was one of constant warfare on many fronts. My own, in some other faraway place was also collapsing within the violence. My comrades were out there, somewhere, while I was in here eating fresh caught fish, planning on painting landscapes, and letting myself feel relaxed.

It was absurd.

Unrealistic.

As soon as the soldier’s cries had filled the air, I had been ripped back into a startlingly real reality. The world was continuing on all around us and I was letting myself get soft. I needed to get my head back in the game.

I needed to be prepared.

“There are always enemies at our borders,” Arahan hissed. “Monsters, evil ones, the greedy…” Her pacing quickened, her heel-strikes leaving deepening imprints in the loamy earth. “We protect ourselves; we stay out of their lands…” She stumbled to a stop and whipped around, coming nose to nose with me, her eyes blazing with anger.

“And they attack us. Bloodshed! I will find and defeat them. I will make them rue the day they were ever born into this dark world!”

Before Arahan could curse the unknown attackers and how she will ground their bones to dust, I reached out and stopped her. I had to distract her but at the same time, I needed to do something myself. In the space of this violence, I needed to train and get stronger.

“Arahan, is there somewhere we can train?”

Arahan paused, “Train?”

“After what happened, I need to focus on getting stronger again. I’m also not used to the weapons in this world, can you teach me a few things? I think it’ll help me get my mind off things…”

“A warrior should not get their mind off things…” Arahan snapped. “There are too many important things to do.”

“Right, so that’s why I need your help.”

“I can do that. Follow me.”

***

Arahan led me to the fortress’ training grounds, an open area lined with trees within the fortress’ outer bailey. Straw-stuffed dummies lined the grounds, various target practice pits, and a display wall full of wooden and steel swords, daggers, knives, lances, and pikes.

Arahan approached the wall and picked two wooden sparring swords.

“Focusing on a fight will help you heal,” Arahan said. She whirled one and then handed it to me, hilt first.

I raised an eyebrow. I set my crutch aside, only using it lightly in case I lost my balance, and took a few steady steps on my own. I was getting better. Maybe this would help me jump back into action again.

“Let’s see what you are made of, human,” Arahan teased. The sword in her hand suddenly brought her back to focus, away from her spiraling concerns. Instead of stabbing a sword through her enemies, she faced off and began to square up with me. We walked out into the center of the training ground, with our swords raised.

“I might not be a swordsman, but I’ve had my share of scrapes,” I said. I levelled the sword, light in my hand. Arahan started to circle me, a thin smile slicing across her lips. She twirled the sword, drawing my eyes to the weapon as she sidestepped and surrounded me. She flicked her wrist and it slashed between us. I sloppily brought my arm up, blocking the slice with an upward chop.

“He can react,” Arahan crooned. She sliced again and I managed to block it.

Out on the field, I had fought close-combat and with hands-on weapons. The dagger given to me from my friend was a comfortable extension of my own hand and something I could use to get out of many situations. I tried to think of how I used to handle it and focused on my balance, continuously moving as Arahan stepped forward and back, poking in and out of my personal space.

I stepped into the pattern of her attack, the wooden swords thwacking each other again and again. Arahan struck and I parried. She teased and reached, seeing my limits of movement. I responded, moving against the tight pull of my many healing wounds. I breathed shallowly around the ache of my ribs. As I started to meet each strike, Arahan shifted and upped the anti of her attack. She whirled, her white hair whipping around, as she struck and snapped.

Our swords began to blur into a whirl as we fought. My heart started to race and her cheeks began to burn as we ran out of breath. My limbs thrummed with each hit and Arahan started to grunt with each swat, sweet little slips of her voice punctuating the air. She stepped close into my space, the swords connecting, and she twisted to lock the hilts and pushed them both over our heads, forcing our arms up into the air, our heaving chests slamming against each other. Arahan leaned against me, her breasts rising and falling despite being squished against my chest.

Her eyes filled my view and I was suddenly very aware of how close we were. The heat of her body raged through mine, inciting a wildfire within me. The attraction instantly hardened my dick and while I warred between wanting to pull away to save some dignity or to keep her close, she suddenly yelped and hopped away, her face scarlet.

“That’s… enough for now,” Arahan said. She took a deep breath, sucking air through her teeth as she brushed her free hand through her hair. “You are feeling better? Your healing has really improved.”

“I… yeah,” I stuttered. I tried to think of anything to literally cool myself down. The soft linen pants I was wearing were not doing me any favors. Think of something sad. Something gross? The way I felt when I stood alone in the field against those monsters, the smell of the heavy smoke… shit-stained hideouts and crying over my lost comrades…

Damn. That trick wasn’t what it used to be. It worked; I sighed. But my thoughts were too darn depressing now. Whatever happened to thinking about kicked puppies or naked grandmas? Eugh. Enough already...

“Markus? Arahan!”

The awkward moment was shattered as Naestra hurried into the practice field. She skipped over the shooting range and approached carrying a large basket. Arahan turned sharply and went to hang up her sword. I swear I saw her pat her cheeks a few times, as if trying to get herself to calm down.

Was the brave and scary warrior… sweet on me?

Naestra presented a basket full of food for dinner. We all sat down on the ground and shared the food and wine. Naestra gave us updates about the injured soldier who was feeling better and Arahan planned out potential training regimes to continue my healing.

“I’m not much of a swordsman,” I said.

“You did well… a little bit,” Arahan said begrudgingly. “Your form is sloppy, but I can fix that.”

“Sloppy? I kept up with you.”

“You only blocked my attacks. You didn’t try to strike on your own. If it were a real battle, you would have been dead. Or exhausted without gaining the upper hand,” Arahan concluded.

“Okay, okay. But what about those targets? What if we practice shooting?” I asked. I was a sharpshooter. There were many differences between bows and guns, but I may be able to save some face with target practice.

After we finished eating, several other wood elves came over to practice but were drawn in to watch Arahan, Naestra, and me line up on the range. They gave me a bow to use, strung with horse tail hair from the elven steeds. A wood elf plunged several arrows into the ground for all of us and stepped back, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Feeling confident, I hold up the bow and try to notch an arrow but as soon as I try to put the fletching on the string, the arrowhead slipped down. I tried again, held onto the fletching, raised the bow, pulled the string toward my cheek, and the arrow fell off the string, snapping it back into place.

“Ack,” I mumbled. This wasn’t as easy as I thought it was going to be.

“Having trouble?” Naestra asked. She leveled the loaded bowstring at her cheek, pulled, and released. The arrow whisked away and buried itself headfirst into the center of the target over 60 meters away. 

“Woohoo!” the spectating elves cheered.

“So simple,” Arahan said. She leveled her bow and fired off a shot too, slamming it into the center of her target with hardly any effort.

“We can teach you how to shoot,” Naestra said.

“I know how to shoot.”

“I don’t think so.”

Naestra came over and guided me through notching the arrow, holding it tight, and pulling back. Her arms wrapped around me from behind, guiding me through the motions. Her touch was soft, and it was hard to keep my focus on the bow and arrow and not elsewhere as her flowery scent engulfed me.

“I can do it myself,” I muttered, distracted.

“Pull it back,” she whispered, her lips so close to my ear.

I did. The bowstring strained in my hands; the fletching pricked my cheek.

“Gently…”

“Focus on your target,” Arahan said. She came close, peering down the range.

“And let go.”

I released the arrow, part of me leaping away with it, my hopes urging it forward as it soared toward the target, arched, and then with a sudden jerk, planted itself deep into the earth instead.

“No!” I roared. “I never miss a shot!” Naestra leapt away from me as I swung the bow down, stomping like some angry child.

Arahan cackled. “I find that hard to believe!”

“Maybe he isn’t feeling up to it?” Naestra offered.

“I don’t need coddling,” I said. “I’ll show you how I can do it.” I couldn’t help smiling as my pride darkened my cheeks. I picked up another arrow and tried again but the next shot was not much better than the last.

“A true hero!” Arahan crowed. “I’ll be sure to put you on the front lines so you can scare the oncoming enemy with your incredible prowess.”

“He will get better. We can help him learn,” Naestra said. She turned to me. “We won’t throw you out on the battlefield. We just want to see you recover.”

“I don’t need to learn how to shoot,” I exclaimed. “I can shoot, these are just weird. Give me my rifles and I can shoot anything and everything, no matter how far.”

Naestra and Arahan shared a look. Had I been ranting too much? I faltered and let my bow fall to my side as Naestra suddenly hurried away and into the storage shed on the edge of the training area. Soon, she returned with a large bundle and dropped it on the ground.

“We want to help you in your training, but we were not sure when to give these back to you,” Naestra said.

“We wanted to make sure you really were as safe as you seem to be. Despite being a human,” Arahan added.

“We saved these for you and now want to give them back as you continue healing,” Naestra finished. She untied the bundle and unraveled it to reveal all the weapons I thought I had lost. My rifle, sidearms, and dagger were all there. I lowered myself to my knees and sat on the ground. I reached for one of the sidearms and popped open its empty chamber.

I was relieved to see them again. A little piece of my old life, proving that what had happened to me was not only real, but I was still real in this strange, magical world. Just like my scars, they were a reminder, but feeling the cold metal in my hands again was a strange mix of relief and nausea. They were weapons of destruction and while I had been pitted in a conflict I wanted nothing to do with them despite these weapons had allowed me to try to protect those around me.

Cradled between the dagger and remaining gun was my grenade. The grenade I was going to pull to not only end my life but take out all the other Beastmen with me. It was unreal seeing it again. How close I had been to finally dying.

Arahan knelt and picked up the grenade, instantly rolling it in her palm. 

“What is this?” she asked.

“Careful, it’s an explosive device,” I warned.

Arahan froze, the grenade stilled in her hands.

“It won’t blow up unless you pull out that pin,” I said. I took it out of her hands and ran my thumb over the textured outer shell.

“But that’s what you held in the battle. Were you going to throw it? Kill the beastmen?” Naestra asked.

“That was the only weapon you held,” Arahan muttered. Her eyes widened and she looked up at me.

“I didn’t think I had any way out,” I said. “I had to make sure I took out every last beastman before they could hurt anyone else. I was waiting for them to surround me.”

The sisters were quiet. Naestra reached out and patted my leg, her hand lingering.

“You were brave,” Arahan said. “I had no idea…”

“Well, it’s fine. Then you two saved me and now I’m here!” I exclaimed. I didn’t want to stew on the past. I don’t regret my decision, but I am grateful I didn’t end my life out in that field.

“We are glad you are here,” Naestra said. “Can you tell me what these are?”

I picked up my gun and gave it a shake. Everything was empty.

“This is my fun, a Heckler & Koch G36 and my sidearms. These are what fire those metal balls I told you about the other day,” I said.

“They look like muskets,” Arahan said. “The Empire uses them. But yours are much more compact.”

Muskets? That was good to know. Maybe finding bullets wasn’t too farfetched except for now, I didn’t have any and was in dire need of them.

“Do you have anything with bullets? Or do you only use bows and arrows?”

“Crossbows,” Naestra added. “But I prefer the bow. It feels more natural to me.”

“Where do you make your weapons?” I asked.

“The smith and artisans work from the same forge,” Arahan answered.

“Do you think they could make bullets for my weapons?” My brain started kicking up into high gear. What if they had metal we could melt down and maybe make into bullets?

I turned my sidearm in my hands, examining the chamber and the barrel.

If only it were that simple…

“We do not have anything like that,” Naestra said, eyeing the weapons.

“I guess that makes sense,” I said. “I don’t even know how to make them and who knows if they would work right? If I made them incorrectly, the gun could jam or even worse…misfire.”

“Misfire?”

“Potentially blow up in my face,” I joked. I wasn’t exactly sure if modern guns still did that but in the movies I had seen as a kid, in American Westerns there were all sorts of problems with putting the wrong bullets in guns, simply blocking the rifle’s barrel, and more. I didn’t want to mess with something I didn’t understand. But now, what would I do?

“Well, we would just put you back together again,” Naestra said. She bumped my shoulder and grinned. “We have many weapons you can use—only if necessary.”

“I’ll train you to be ready for anything,” Arahan said. “Unless you really want the metal balls. What metal would you use?”

How would I explain gunpowder? I thought. “I’m not sure.” The tools and materials I needed did not exist in this medievalesque, magical forest.

And if I was in a strange forest, with no way out, I needed to start adjusting. This was where I was stuck, right? I couldn’t keep waking up each day wondering how I would get home and help the others. I couldn’t keep trying to find ways to make what I used to do work. I wasn’t going to be the same soldier I used to be. I wasn’t going to even have the same weapons, except for these empty husks of guns, one dagger, and my remaining grenade.

“But no misfires,” Arahan clarified. “I don’t want to clean your bandages again. You were so much work to deal with.” She rolled her eyes. Was she teasing me? Was there an actual sarcastic bone in her body?

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll be better in no time. And once I am back to normal, I’ll have to challenge you to another spar. I’m not going to let you get away with your weak show back there,” I shot back.

Naestra’s eyes widened as her sister gasped. Arahan scowled, playfully slapping me with her hand. Something blossomed within me, seeing a new side of her start to open. She was fun. And with the way she blushed earlier when we were close… I can’t wait to see what she—both of them—does next.

 
 
 

Recent Posts

See All
Daisy Duke Fanfiction #3

Commissioned by : anongreay Written by : Danni Lynn Date : October 8th, 2024 Word Count : 5,000 words Synopsis : Daisy needs to convince...

 
 
 
Daisy Duke Fanfiction #2

Commissioned by : anongreay Written by : Danni Lynn Date : August 30th, 2024 Word Count : 7,300 words Synopsis : In an alternate universe...

 
 
 
Daisy Duke Fanfiction #1

Commissioned by : anongreay Written by : Danni Lynn Date : February 2nd, 2024 Word Count : 2,500 words Synopsis : Daisy goes the extra...

 
 
 

Comments


bottom of page