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Authors: Luca Rossi

Tags: #metaphysical fantasy, #alternative history science fiction, #epic fantasy, #erotic romance novels, #magician, #paranormal fantasy erotica, #time travel paranormal romance

Branches of Time, The (18 page)

BOOK: Branches of Time, The
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Lil could hardly fathom the idea of leaving the island where she had always lived, much less traveling to another time entirely. The unknown, the danger, the theory of the branches of time: everything whirled around her mind as total confusion set in. But one question in particular weighed upon her heart: “Miril, do you know where to go?”

The priestess smiled at her, even more tenderly than usual. “No. We'll have to figure that out together. From what I've read, this requires a very long and complicated process of intense preparation. I have no idea how we'll be able to continue with the rituals, your training, and this new task, all at the same time. I'm afraid we'll often have to work through most of the night, and this may very well weaken our ability to concentrate.

“Now, there are magical techniques we can use to climb up our branch of time until we reach the point where we sense the divergence from the new branch. In that spot, the frequencies should be different. We'll have to use the techniques described in the ancient texts to figure out the appropriate solution. It'll be like traveling up a river, looking for a tributary with a different color of water – a different color that comes from flowing over a different type of earth.

“The same idea applies to finding the place. Imagine throwing a stone into a pond. The ripples will move away from where the object touched the water. Studying the wrinkles in time, we'll be able to identify the point where the stone landed, the beginning of the new branch. And once we get those coordinates, we'll travel in that direction.”

Lil was upset. After the rock shards had come plunging down from the sky, the only solace she had found was staying within the reassuring walls of the Temple, a comfort now threatened by the priestess's proposal. She was afraid she didn't have the strength nor the skills to perform a task so far beyond the limits of her imagination.

“We'll stay together, don't worry,” Miril promised her sweetly, but this time, not even her telepathic sensitivity could soothe her.

“Miril, couldn't we just go alone and see what happens, then come back here and decide what to do?” Lil surprised herself with her own words. But it seemed right to be more cautious, given how delicate the situation was.

Miril, her eyes hopeful yet veiled with sadness, replied: “After looking through the sacred books, I went to the laboratory to see what elements we have available. I found some ancient urns that seem to contain the necessary materials, materials I don't think came from this island. Our ancestors probably brought them from the Northern lands. I did a quick calculation of how much we would need and, unfortunately, we only have enough material for a very limited number of trips through time.”

“And how many would that be?” Lil asked, terrified of the response.

“Only two. There and back.”

37

Bashinoir was annoyed. The night before, Lil and Miril had tormented him by asking lots of questions about what he had been doing lately, particularly what parts of the island he had visited and how far along he was in transferring the animals to the stables close to the Temple. Despite his reluctance to answer, and although they still continued with their questions, they remained kind and understanding, treating him as a problematic child who, for whatever reason, could not be scolded. To him, that false and condescending attitude was really intolerable. If they were mad at him for some reason, it would be better that they expressed it openly.

Did they find out? Considering they never leave the Temple, how would they know anything?

That day, he decided to go back to his old house, the little cottage where he and Lil had lived while waiting to build their new house. He lit a fire, took off his boots and comfortably settled into the rocking chair near the hearth. Opposite the fireplace, on the other side of the small yet cozy room, was the stove Lil used to cook over. A large table stood in the center. A staircase led to the little attic where their bed was. It hadn't been damaged badly by the shards of stone: there were only a few small holes that could be easily repaired.

Their bed. Just remembering it made him feel a deep pang of nostalgia for the nights they had kept each other warm, the nights when he enjoyed the sweet smell of his wife.

But now Lil was far away from him. She seemed even more beautiful and unobtainable, splendid as she shone in a new light, more alive than the flames that danced in front of him, her eyes as bright as two suns. There didn't seem to be any room for him in her new life. They hardly spent any time together during the day; and the priestess Miril was always around. Not only did the two women work together, but they had built up an unusually strong trust he felt excluded from. And what about him? The few times they had found themselves alone, just Lil and him, Bashinoir had wanted to laugh and joke around the way he used to, but he didn't feel good enough for her anymore and had assumed she wouldn't find his jovial remarks very funny.

Bashinoir would have given anything to feel his wife's eyes, full of desire, look at him how they used to, when she pretended like she wanted to run away, anxious for him to prove his manhood as he chased after her.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the crackling of the small fire in his ears and the heat of the flame that warmed his body and face.

He imagined his wife running out of the Temple and playing hide and go seek with him.

He rubbed one hand over his pants.

Lil kept running, turning around only to give him a naughty smile.

Bashinoir opened his fly and held his member in his right hand, stroking it.

Lil was hiding behind a corner, but when Bashinoir thought he had finally caught up with her, she had already disappeared. He looked around. A noise came from the spot where his wife was hiding. He anticipated her movements, heading towards a place where he would be able to cut off her escape.

His fingers firmly gripped his member as they rose and fell.
It's been so long since I've had this kind of pleasure!

Bashinoir went and hid behind a wall. He heard Lil's footsteps as she walked, looking behind her shoulder. Without realizing it, she ended up right in his arms.

That sudden contact excited him immensely. His hand started to move more quickly. His breath accelerated.

Lil looked at him, helpless, her eyes begging him to set her free. He loved that look.

His hand accelerated.

He grabbed both of her wrists as his lips came down upon hers. Lil pretended to resist, then opened her mouth, letting his tongue enter. But suddenly Lil stepped back: “No! I'm a novice!”

Bashinoir felt horrible. Abusing a novice was one of the worst crimes imaginable. Yet Lil was so seductive. And their people were gone. It was only the two of them now.

His hand stopped moving. Had he just allowed himself to imagine taking a novice?

She used to be his wife, though.

He closed his eyes again as his hand resumed its movement.

Lil resisted. A girl in her position wouldn't give in easily, so Bashinoir took her in his arms and brought her to the bed in their room as she squirmed and kicked, unable to overcome his physical prowess. When he laid her upon the bed, she wriggled as if to escape, but her eyes betrayed a desire even stronger than his own.

“No, Bashinoir! You know I can't!” Lil scolded him, her voice teasing, her eyes mischievous.

Instead of answering, Bashinoir opened his pants, lifted up her dress and laid his body over hers. She squeezed her legs shut in resistance. Jutting his pelvis down, however, he was able to open her legs. He pushed in and penetrated her deeply.

At that thought, Bashinoir's hand moved in a fury, as if possessed. His penis was as hard as a rock and burned like the fire in the hearth.

Bashinoir moved in and out of her, matching the rhythm of his hand. Lil moaned, wet and excited, her eyes burning. Bashinoir possessed her as a real man would, letting all of his pleasure explode inside of her. Now she'd finally get pregnant, he hoped, and then there'd be at least one part of her husband she could never refuse. The image of his semen traveling through her excited him so much that Bashinoir's body stiffened, his hand finished a few final pumps and slowed down, just before he orgasmed. The image of his wife's sex, flooded with his semen, lingered in his mind.

At the peak of excitement, his hand lingered. Lowering it one last time, he ejaculated so forcefully that he squirted all over his shirt, up to his neck.

“That's for you, Lil,” Bashinoir announced, proud to dedicate such a beautiful moment of self-pleasure to the sensual beauty of his former wife.

He laid still, enjoying the sensation for a little while.

The fire had grown weak. His penis, covered with semen, and the stains on his clothes started to make him feel uncomfortable. He got up and looked for something he could clean himself with. He took an old rag and wiped off his clothes.

He finally left the house. He had enjoyed that delightful moment in his old home, and promised himself to come back soon. But what should he do now? He could start working, although it really wouldn't make much of a difference if he decided to wait one more day. He was in a better mood than usual, and it would be nice to maintain it. More than anything else he needed a little social contact, so he decided to go to where he was almost sure he'd find his friend, the shadow.

38

So you two were able to save yourselves?

The setting sun illuminated the sky behind Bashinoir, who sullenly observed the shadow floating underneath the water in front of him. Their conversation was making him feel uncomfortable.

“Yes, we managed to survive. I think it was a miracle. The rock shards were falling everywhere. Looking back, I still can't believe they didn't hit us. I only got one little wound on my calf.”

Bashinoir stared out over the sea, observing how it grew darker in the distance. He took in a deep breath.

And the priestess? She managed to stay out of harm's way?

“She was in the Temple when everything happened.”

But didn't you tell me that everyone, even the priests, participated in the important rituals?

“I don't really know why she wasn't there. But I think it's just our tradition. It's normal for only one priest to be with us, while the other stays in the Temple.

For the magical protections, right?

“Sure. I mean, to maintain the magical forces of the island, otherwise we'd be in danger. I don't understand much about it though. Us regular folks only know what the elders tell us about it.”

So the priestess was the one taking care of all of the magical protections at that moment?

“Yes. The priest was officiating the rites of union for the bride and groom.”

So she was protecting the island during the rites?

A sinister doubt came over Bashinoir. He wanted to raise his voice, but he feared losing the only friend he still had. He would have walked away, but then he'd have to think of something else to do for the rest of the afternoon. It was still too early to make an appearance back at the Temple.

“I don't know! We don't know anything about magical protections. We only know that the priests are the people who take care of those things!”

Of course, of course. Has something like this ever happened in the past?

Bashinoir's eyes followed the hypnotic movements of the shadow underneath the water. He dug his fingers into the cold sand, snorting.

“Why are you asking me all of these questions?”

Pardon me. I live alone and nobody's ever told me anything about temples, priests or magic before. But we can change the subject if you'd like. It's just that I'm a bit worried.

“Why?”

What if you're in danger? What if something happened to you? What would I do without you?

And what would I do without you?
Bashinoir wondered. For a moment he forgot that the shadow could read his mind.

Our friendship is such a beautiful thing to me. I don't ever want to lose you.

“I don't want to lose you either. But I don't understand. Why are you worried about me being in danger? Do you think that what happened could happen again?”

No. Well, I mean, it depends...

“On what?”

See, that's what I don't understand! If your priests are so powerful, and one of them was even in the Temple protecting you, how could something like that happen without her even knowing about it?

That question hit Bashinoir like a punch in the stomach. He'd always had the feeling that something had gone terribly wrong on that cursed day and, deep down inside, he'd even started to resent the priestess. But he would never have dared to explicitly accuse her.

“You think she knew?”

I don't know. I have no way of knowing these things. But you told me before that the magical defenses have always been impenetrable. And it's strange that she didn't seem to be able to predict what was going to happen. Wouldn't a priest have been able to sense this sort of thing beforehand?

BOOK: Branches of Time, The
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