The Siluvara Files
The Many Journeys of Ian Scranton
Chapter 6: The Incorruptible Children
 
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"Never met a Grue Combine problem that couldn't be solved with the application of enough kaboom. A city full of fairies? A swarm of Silurheans? Giantesses? Kadruata on the move? Just add more kaboom. A Grue Combine warship? Do like the Bollars did - add a whole hell of a lot more KABOOM!" - Ashley Sutton, Gunnery Sergeant, Earth Federation Marine Corps, 238th Colonial Garrison, contributor, "Innovations Under Fire: Silurhean Encounter Survival Tactic #0768"
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In the blink of an eye, Ian was thrown into what felt like motionless freefall. Darkness pressed tightly all around him, his nerves tingling with that same delicious electrifying feeling that rippled through him as he came to the brink of a particularly good self-induced sexual release. No - it was better than that. Even better than the build-up he'd experienced beneath Isaya's gyrating body as she brought him to the edge and beyond. Here in the blackness of an unfamiliar void, he could feel the greatest orgasm of his life building somewhere within him - indeed, all through his being - and not just in his groin. Then he realized he could not feel his fingers or toes. He could not move his lips. He had no tongue. He could not moan. Or even speak.
 
"Hmmm... you call yourself a... human?" a soft, fairly medium-pitched female voice, called to him from somewhere in the void; it appeared indeed that he might have ears, as he managed to hear not only her words but the strong current of curiosity as well.
 
*What's going on?* Ian thought to himself, dreadfully sure that he could not be heard. If only he could speak...
 
"Ah... you are not of our kind," the gentle voice spoke in his head. "You are in my womb. I'm absorbing you into me. Roshana called it Gaia's Blessing, but we call it Morgana's Blessing."
 
Being absorbed! Ian could not shudder or gasp but he could most certainly feel the talons of fear biting into his soul upon hearing those words.
 
"It's understandable to be afraid, young Ian," the voice tried to empathize with him, "but if you relax and let yourself go, you will find that euphoria is not unlike a gentle tide washing over you, coaxing you out to sea to swim in its refreshing waters."
 
*Oh no... I'm being consumed!* he thought to himself, his mind spiraling into panic. *I can't move my legs!*
 
A soft chuckle filled his mind. "You do not have a body to move right now. I've taken it from you. But I promise, you will have another quite soon. You're not being consumed. Please... relax... don't resist. Let yourself feel the pleasure that is flooding your soul."
 
Ian's guard faltered just a bit as her loving voice took its toll on his sense of panic and sense of self-preservation.
 
He was instantly swamped by a tsunami of ecstasy that permeated his entire being; it was as if someone had thrown a switch and sent a powerful electrical jolt of pleasure through his body. His thoughts became hopelessly scrambled as his mind tried to comprehend the sudden rush of rapture that flattened him, laid him supine and left him helpless to fight the sweet undercurrents threatening to drag him under the sea of joy now reaching out to claim him.
 
"There we go... now you will become a part of me for a while. It will allow me to teach you things you would otherwise have a hard time comprehending or remembering. But before you do... my name is Nidale. I am the personal guard for Elsina, the chieftain of the people you will soon come to know as Dalassi."
 
In a more rational moment, Ian would have wondered what she meant when she said she was absorbing him, but this was not a rational time for him. While he was trying to make sense of the heavenly sensations coursing through his mind, he noticed he had somehow managed to land on his back in an endless pool of glowing white energy. He couldn't feel it, but he knew he was slowly sinking into it; and it was robbing him of his consciousness, making him weary, forcing his mind to go foggy as other, strange thoughts worked their way into his head.
 
As soon as thoughts of surrender crossed his mind, the sea of white enveloped him as he sank under its warming waves... and then he lost the ability to think for himself, as this Nidale woman's thoughts intruded, and then superceded his mind...
 
***
 
Roshana had thought she was doing a good thing by giving Ian some more time to walk on his feet and find a place to relieve himself. She planned to let him see the base and hear her explanations concerning who had once inhabited the place; and then back he would go into Hollani's womanhood where he would be largely immobile but also quite safe. But then the mistakes began - first she started touching things and using her magic to send carefully directed power surges through the underground facility that would supply them with lighting. Then she switched on some computers she knew would exist down there, so she could get at some of the information that was being stockpiled. Any one of these mistakes could have been corrected, but together they compounded each other into the most tragic moment in all the years she had been on this planet. She realized it the instant that ghostly pale face peered into their room and caught sight of her and Hollani, but at that point it was already too late to avert the horror that was to come next.
 
In a flash, Hollani - her best friend and occasional lover - a sweet natured woman who hadn't touched a bite of meat in almost 80 Silurhean standard years - was slain before her unbelieving eyes by a translucent presence that quickly solidified into a raven-haired, fair-skinned fairy with rainbow-like eyelets dotting her long butterfly wings. The assailant's keenly focused knife-hand struck like lightning, plunging through Hollani's skull like a hot knife through butter, splitting her countenance in half. Blood and brains spewed forth as the hand withdrew as fast as it had appeared, leaving a vertical hole where Hollani's nose and much of her upper jaw had been. Hollani, who had never seen her death coming, simply slumped to the ground, the last thought on her mind all too evident in the enthusiastically inquisitive look that remained etched forever on what was left of her face.
 
At the same time, Roshana detected a heavy change in the air behind her - the sudden, silent appearance of another fairy in the room. But the numbing sense of loss weighing heavily on her soul was not enough to slow her reflexes; she whirled around and caught the hand of the raven-haired fairy behind her as she attempted to kill her with a decapitating knife-hand, then twisted her hand fiercely. The warrior maiden* howled with agony as her entire arm followed suit, bending all the wrong ways; bones snapped and tore through flesh as blood sprayed all over the wall. Roshana didn't waste an instant considering her follow-through; with her opponent now distracted by crippling agony, she rammed her palm into the side of the fairy's head. What should have been the sickening crunch of a fractured skull, was instead a dull thud. Still, it was enough to knock her down and out cold.
 
It was then that the magnitude of the situation caught up with Roshana. These warriors had killed Hollani in cold blood. They saw someone with a red soul aura and did not even think to ask why their auras were so deteriorated to the point that they could become children of Gaia in less than ten more days of abstinence. They did not care to bother with the idea of letting her and Hollani finish their journey towards salvation. Instead they turned to the basest of instincts: Hollani's soul aura was red, therefore she deserved to die. And Roshana was to be next.
 
Four fists converged on Roshana's head and chest even as one warrior went down, only to strike thin air. Before the four attacking fairies could process the cause of her disappearance, one fairy's head exploded in a shower of blood and gray matter all over the sides of the others' faces. By the time they actually registered the wet sensation on their skin, a fist plowed through another warrior's chest from behind, emerging from her left breast and pushing her heart out until it landed on the floor with a wet squish and slid away. Both surviving fairies whirled around, their elbows leading, but they only managed to meet at the skull of their mortally wounded comrade. This time, the resulting spray of brains and blood blinded everyone - including Roshana. She was barely able to hastily wipe her face off and continue her attack when she was struck hard in the jaw. A red haze of agony exploded from her mouth all across her face as she was propelled against the console behind her. Her lower back hit the hard, jutting surface, but she refused to let herself go down.
 
She came back swinging. Another fairy went down, even as two more appeared out of nowhere.
 
This time a single hand seized her by her throat and lifted her off her feet. She tried to teleport herself away, but she couldn't muster the energy; her magic had somehow been depleted. Her limbs tingled, and then fell limp - whoever had her had also cast a spell to shut down her peripheral nerves. Out of magic and paralyzed. Game over.
 
"That will be enough!" a deep, powerful male voice boomed, hurting her ears as she blinked and tried to make out the face of the fairy who'd beaten her. "You were supposed to wait for further orders!" He gestured around him in disgust with his other hand, "Now look what you've done!"
 
This male fairy was fairly tall and quite brawny compared to males of any other species Roshana had seen before, and unlike the others, his skin was like dark cocoa, and his hair was like finely-spun black silk with strong, contrasting silver highlights. Like the others, he wore a lightweight beige cotton-soft fabric that could only be considered worthy of protect his modesty. Even the Rikati of Oratho wore heavier armor than this, for all the good it did them.
 
He was a Nivalavi warrior, no doubt with some Droathas mixed into his heritage.
 
His hand released Roshana's throat, allowing her to crumple to the ground, unable to move a muscle, in effect leaving her laying there like so much discarded garbage. She could see Hollani on the other side of this male warrior, laying there on her side facing her, her eyes wide open and unblinking, the entire center of her face missing with blood continuing to leak from the gap to form a growing puddle on the floor. Gray matter seeped out as well, cascading down one side of her face, threatening to make Roshana heave with nausea. She couldn't even blink her stinging eyes to spare herself the sight of that look of innocent wonder frozen on her dead girlfriend's face.
 
Years of combat training had taught her that comrades die in battle all the time. She'd come to this world prepared to shed blood and perhaps even die for her cause. But Hollani... she wasn't a warrior. She wasn't even dangerous to living things anymore. She kept the warrior maidens happy and didn't even ask for any loving in return; all she asked for was that they be thoroughly satisfied by the time she finished. Hollani was the sweetest person she'd ever met on this planet by far. She had done so much for so many people. She'd even risked the total loss of her sanity to save the life of a human being - someone not even of her species. She was Roshana's lover, confidant and best friend. She had an entire life ahead of her as a child of Gaia.
 
And now here she was - dead. Killed in the blink of an eye... by a child of Gaia. Roshana wanted to scream at the injustice of it all but her vocal chords simply would not vibrate.
 
Isaya, meanwhile, had sought refuge in a dark crook between one of the protruding computer panels and the floor as soon as the bloodshed began. There was nothing she could do - in a fight between fairies, a Spriggan would most likely be consumed as fuel by someone. Or, since the Nivalavi and their allies didn't partake of such "sins", she might have been burnt to a crisp to avoid becoming fuel for their enemies. There were already dozens of these dark skinned fairies and their mysterious compatriots of lighter complexion, gathered around her Dryad master, subjecting her to intense questioning about her nature - particularly, whether she had a taste for fairy flesh.
 
From here Isaya had a clear look at Hollani. She'd only met the exiled Arari a short while ago, but she quickly came to know her as a friendly fairy that she could trust. She could hardly believe the vibrant blonde Silurhean had died so quickly, so anti-climactically, as a result of a savage sneak attack. Even she, a tree woman, could not dismiss this as a simple fight between the fairy people: she had only known Hollani for a short time but she already knew the topaz blonde fairy was a kind soul that would have been a good friend to practically anyone.
 
Now she found herself wondering... what would become of Hollani's soul? Did it count that she had long rejected the Silurhean way of consuming living things to the point that she couldn't even stand to eat one of Isaya's soulless Spriggans on account of her merely looking like a creature of flesh... to the point that she would have been unable to eat flesh in only a few more days? Normally Isaya did not really care about the affairs of the flesh creatures, but now this question was rising to consume her thoughts, and made her heart heavy with regret - not only for Hollani but also Roshana, who also had to deal with this tragic turn of events.
 
But now wasn't the time to mourn - the fairies surrounding her master's trunk were not buying her explanations and were becoming more hostile. None of her wandering siblings wre having any luck finding a place far enough away from fairykind to transplant her soul - what with these new fairies swarming all over the area.
 
***
 
"That child of Rhea..." one distraught fairy held her hand over one side of her face, blood leaking from between her fingers as she pointed stiffly at Roshana laying unmoving on the ground, "she killed Janna and Aide... and she nearly killed me, too! She must die! NOW!"
 
The male fairy leaned forward and shouted back in her face, "They wouldn't have died if you had waited for orders!"
 
The fairy removed her hand, her face now fully healed, her fingers still stained with her own blood. Her cheeks began to turn red as she spat back at him, "We acted on the direct orders of Chieftain Elsina to kill any Silurhean we saw that entered here! On sight! Why would you even think to have us we disobey her?"
 
The male stepped back and folded his arms, speaking in a quieter, though condescending tone, "Because not doing so got two warrior maidens killed?"
 
"We can certainly rectify that..." she snarled, reaching out toward Roshana. After a moment, though, she found herself looking at her hand with dismay. "Wha... what happened to my lightning strike?"
 
The lone male in the group tapped his foot. "I cast anti-magic on all of you, and on that Silurhean laying there."
 
Another maiden shrugged, walking over to lift her bare foot within striking distance of Roshana's head. "Fine by me..."
 
As she drove her foot down to stomp Roshana's skull into a bloody mess, another sleek, green-booted foot moved in the way, striking hers and forcing her to stumble back.
 
"Huh?" the startled fairy blurted out as she stared into the hazel eyes of a similarly-dressed dark chocolate-skinned, almost purely silver-haired female now straddling Roshana while carrying a gnarled wooden staff ending in four green, scaly clawed fingers gripping a translucent crystal orb.
 
"Shahab," the youthful-looking newcomer's powerful voice turned all heads in her direction, "the Dryad outside says these Silurheans have been protecting a human male not much unlike one of our Bollar forefathers."
 
The male nodded. "We did spot a human male around here somewhere, mother."
 
Roshana, meanwhile, coughed and turned over on her back to find herself looking up at the bare crotch of a fairy standing over her. As soon as she spotted her simple scepter, she uttered the words, "A Nivalavi chieftain... impossible..."
 
The woman cast her gaze downward. "You must be the Roshana of which the one named Isaya spoke," she said commandingly. "I am Linjara, leader and wise woman of the Nangwaya tribe of the Nivalavi, ally to the Biashal tribe of the Dalassi and the Arajo Freehold."
 
"The Dalassi?" Isaya said to herself, still hiding in the corner. "Now it all makes sense! They launched a massive sneak attack on Oratho! No wonder...!"
 
"Dear Gaia..." Roshana sucked in her breath. "The Bollars, the Nivalavi and the Dalassi? All in one place?!"
 
The red-haired fairy could hardly believe what she was hearing; yet it all made sense. She had spent all this time worrying about the Nivalavi, upon seeing the telltale signs of their presence on the continent, but something should have told her the destruction inflicted upon the city of Oratho was not their way, and that some other force was involved.
 
Now, with Hollani dead, Roshana only had her questions to keep her company. How could she have made such a stupid mistake? Did 80 seasons of wandering this world and failing to find anything of importance, dull her instincts that much? And most importantly, where did these Dalassi come from? The Nivalavi were easy to explain, what with the Bollars hiding somewhere on the planet, but the Dalassi?
 
Linjara reached down and seized her by her neck, interrupting her thoughts. "You've killed two Dalassi warriors, woman," she snarled, roughly lifting her up so that her feet dangled above the ground. "Tell me... why I should not throw you to these maidens?"
 
Roshana could hardly breathe with Linjara's hand clenched around her throat; even so, she still managed to choke out with a defiant grin, "Because... you don't want to lose... any more maidens?"
 
Linjara dropped her on her feet, her face twisting with anger. "You dare threaten me, daughter of Rhea, when your life stands on the very precipice of forfeiture?"
 
Thoughts of Hollani's curious expression as she lay dead on the ground, quickly began to cloud Roshana's judgment, poisoning her heart with a swelling toxic rage. "Forfeiture?" She pointed back at Hollani. "You mean the way you forfeited the life of an innocent woman who was THIS damned close to becoming one of you?!"
 
"One less maneating monster..." one maiden snickered.
 
"She's right! That also means one less child to be saved by Gaia!" Shahab was quick to turn and bark at her. "Our numbers swell in part because of the-"
 
"Shahab, my son..." Linjara called, quietly.
 
"But... mother!" he protested, his anger and frustration finally cutting loose. "Do you realize how much food there is in the nearby zones? If that Arari was merely starving for a meal of flesh she could have feasted on the dingas burrowed deep in the forest... or that colony of pocket lizards less than a thousand paces from here!" He gestured emphatically at Roshana. "It is the same with this woman! Look at her soul aura! Another ten or twenty days and she would be one of us without any help! How many seasons do you think she passed over those living things scurrying below her and not partaken? Eighty, at least?"
 
"You act as if we didn't realize all that..." a contemptful voice behind him challenged.
 
Shahab turned to chastise her, only to be greeted by an even colder tone: "Fact is, we don't care." The raven-haired fairy woman planted a fingertip in his chest. "She was red, now she's *dead*."
 
Shahab swatted her hand away; but before his hand could lash out with a boomerang backhand to her face, Linjara, seeing what was coming, stepped forward and took her son's hand, distracting him into turning back around. "Shahab... your temper. Let's not come to blows over a Silurhean woman. It is not our way."
 
"But..." Shahab protested, scowling at the warrior woman.
 
"I understand. But you must understand their anger... this woman has killed two of our own. She must answer for this."
 
"In retaliation for the death of her friend..." Shahab insisted.
 
"Two of our warriors DIED by her filthy hands, you fool!" a Dalassi maiden snarled, her eyes locked on Linjara as if challenging her to say something. "Does that mean anything to you?!"
 
"Yea, I'm beginning to wonder about that..." another of her kind joined in, scowling at the Nivalavi chieftain, "I mean... whose side is this boy really on here?"
 
"'Boy'? How dare you!" Shahab's temper exploded as he attempted in vain to yank his hand free of his mother's grasp.
 
"Shahab!" she barked at him; at her insistence he backed off, still glaring at the warrior maiden who had spoken ill of his allegiances and who was already casting her gaze down at her own feet. To the offending Dalassi, Linjara said calmly, "That will be enough."
 
The warrior maiden staggered back; Linjara was slow to anger, but both Dalassi and Nivalavi warriors alike knew firsthand the dangers of pushing her too far.
 
At that moment, however, two more Dalassi women entered the room, swerving hastily around the corner. The first was a calm-looking woman clad up to her neck in black, lustrous armor with tiny runes carved on her left breastplate that seemed to be digitally imprinted. Her raven hair was tied behind her head in a bun; and her lower belly glowed brightly, as did all the nerve fibers all over her body, such that she lit up the room and forced the warriors to cover their eyes from the initial glare. The woman behind her wore lighter, amber-toned armor covering most of her creamy white, amber-trimmed tunic; she also carried a scepter similar to Linjara's. Her raven hair was restrained by an embroidered golden yellow head band.
 
"Yes, that will most certainly be enough!" the second one said forcefully. "Linjara has the patience of a saint!" She pointed stiffly at the maiden who'd insulted Shahab's honor. "I on the other hand will not tolerate any further insinuations against Shahab's loyalties, is that understood?!"
 
"Yes, milady!" both Dalassi women replied, their heads bowed.
 
Nevertheless, Shahab's lip twitched.
 
"Nidale! Lady Elsina!" Linjara exhaled with exasperation, raising her own scepter toward her son, level with his face, causing him to fall silent. "You ordered the attack on Oratho, didn't you!"
 
Elsina stepped around her companion, standing before Linjara with a smug grin, her hands planted on her hips. "Actually, Clanlord Rijaal N'han Raj-Bollar gave the orders. And my maidens carried off his orders with perfection. The enemy never saw us coming, and they never knew what hit them. Four cities... all of the Silurhean colonies in the region... completely vaporized in one fell swoop." She shrugged. "The war against the Silurhean devils on this continent began and ended in the course of minutes. Our plan worked... perfectly."
 
Linjara's body slackened as she took a deep breath that swelled her bosom, while the Dalassi warriors smiled proudly. "You annihilated the entire Silurhean population?!"
 
"And the civilians, as Clanlord Haj-Bollar ordered," Elsina added challengingly.
 
Linjara's mouth fell open. "The Clanlord ordered *what*?!"
 
Elsina narrowed her eyes. "They called for the destruction of all Silurheans within our reach. We answered their call."
 
"Elsina!" Linjara protested. "Do you realize how many CHILDREN were in those cities? Did you think to spare even one?"
 
"We did. We've delivered a few dozen to the Daelath camps. We're also delivering some other survivors to the Arajo Clan, as they requested. We will also be bringing this human who calls himself 'Ian Scranton' to see them."
 
Shahab was aghast at what he was hearing. "A few dozen children?! You vaporized-"
 
"Elsina..." Linjara bristled, raising her hand to silence her son; then she sighed, her posture slackening. "We must discuss this later..." Then she shook her head, turning to look sadly over at Roshana.
 
Elsina smiled. "I agree. We must discuss this later. For now, however, my warriors have more Silurhean settlements out east to deal with. And then there are the Arajo and Biashal patrols testing one of Clanlord Rijaal's experimental antimatter weapons on a Silurhean city far off to the northern continent..."
 
"But Hollani wasn't one of them..." Roshana protested, even though it was too late to save her friend's life, "she was a beautiful woman inside and out... she wanted to become one of us... one of you!"
 
"One of 'us'?" one of the maidens protested with a contemptful snort as Nidale whispered something in Elsina's ear. Elsina nodded.
 
"I believe there's more to this than meets the eye," the Biashal chieftain then suggested, pointing to her personal guard. "Nidale seems found some evidence that supports this Silurhean woman's claims."
 
"I am absorbing the memories of this 'Ian Scranton' that I caught," the warrior clad in the shiny black armor, said. "Judging by his experiences and his perspective, Roshana may in fact be right."
 
"She still killed two of our Biashal maidens," Linjara sighed; then she turned to Roshana. "The Biashal tribe will want justice." Shaking her head, she explained, "You must stand trial for this."
 
"You may come to wish you were summarily executed on the spot," Elsina was quick to add; her subordinates declined to speak their objections in light of the chieftain's stern glare in their direction.
 
Roshana gulped, nodding mutely, her heart sinking as she suspected that there would be a catch to this.
 
Linjara turned away from Elsina for a moment; she had too many issues to worry about without a fight with Elsina over what they were planning to do to Roshana. "As for you, my son..."
 
Shahab turned toward her. "Yes, mother?"
 
"The total annihilation of Oratho... it's only the beginning. The Arajo Freehold is making its move now, far sooner than anyone imagined," she told him. "I need you to speak with Clanlord Rijaal immediately and... convince him not to go through with his plans." Winking, she added, "I believe you also have some... suggestions you'd like to share with him?"
 
Shahab would have been less horrified if his mother had drawn a sword against him. But rather than show fear or question her in front of the others, he fought down his objections and bowed slightly. "I will do my best, mother."
 
She nodded to him. "Consider this a learning experience," she said; then the Nivalavi chieftain's face turned stoic as she turned and squeezed by Elsina on her way out of the room.
 
After spending a silent moment watching Linjara leave, Elsina then turned her attention to the woman with the glowing green aura huddled in the corner. "You, Isaya... will be spared. Ian's memories have saved your life. Plus... we have a deal we wish to make with you."
 
Isaya nodded mutely, her eyes wide like saucers as she watched Elsina bend down to pick up one of her dead maidens. Then Elsina's last words registered in her mind and she cocked her head. "A deal?"
 
Elsina nodded to Isaya. "Yes. I think you will like it." To Roshana, she commanded coldly, "Come with us. Now."
 
Roshana bowed, and then followed her out of the room.
 
"What a waste," Nidale sighed in the meantime as she studied Hollani's corpse. "She was certainly not worth losing two of our own maidens." Waving dismissively at the dead body, she commanded, "Give our sisters a proper burial..." Her face twisted into a mask of revulsion. "And dispose of this... this man-eating filth! Burn it... stick it in the ground... or something."
 
Both maidens replied sharply, "Yes, mistress!"
 
"And..." Nidale frowned at them, her fists trembling with pent-up energy, "I believe you owe Shahab... an apology."
 
The two Dalassi fairies opened their mouths to protest; but Nidale's stern gaze was all that was needed to silence their objections. "Yes milady..." They both then turned and bowed to Shahab. "We're sorry, Shahab," the said in unison. "We were foolish to question your loyalties."
 
Nidale's eyes widened. "You were also wrong to refer to him as 'boy'! And you called the son of a chieftain A FOOL!" She barked, her temper slowly peeling away as anger swelled in her voice. "It's bad enough that you questioned his loyalty!" Turning to step into the warrior maiden's personal space, she snarled in the woman's face. "But to speak to him as you would a Silurhean? Whose side are YOU on? That certainly was not a child of Tarajika or Morgania talking!"
 
Her subordinate cringed, backing off slightly as her lip trembled. "I... I was angry that..." She then bowed her head contritely again, reaching up to rub her face. "I mean... I'm sorry, Shahab... there was no excuse for my disrespect. I don't know what came over me."
 
Shahab bowed his head in the slightest of nods as Nidale remained tense, as if she were ready to lash out in violence at her subordinates. Although the thought had crossed his mind to let the strongest warrior among all Dalassi women pummel her own soldiers for their outright disrespect, his mother had clearly left him to handle this affair, and he would not disappoint her by letting things escalate. These warriors would live with a shame that would smite them as hard as Nidale ever could. "Fine, then I'll hear no more of this. The wind has already blown it by."
 
"Not for us it hasn't..." Nidale hissed, stepping closer, causing the two women under her command to scramble backwards.
 
Shahab's calm posture suddenly stiffened into a confrontational stance. Forcefully, he replied, "I said, it has blown by. This was an exceptional situation. We've never, ever lost two warriors to one Silurhean. Much less let that Silurhean live long enough to defend her actions. These were all unusual reactions to an unusual situation." He glanced at the maidens. "This incident will serve to expand our abilities to control our tempers. It will not serve to divide us."
 
Nidale, having also felt the sting of his last comment, immediately slackened her posture, folding her arms. "I understand. You are far too gracious, Shahab."
 
Shahab shook his head; he could hardly believe those words had come out of his mouth. But he had his mother's wishes, and the bond between the Nangwaya and Biashal tribes to consider. He would simply have to accept that he was being politically savvy. Taking a deep breath, he prayed he sounded more sincere than he truly was as he explained, "I simply will not have the children of Tarajika coming to blows with the children of Morgania on my watch. LEAST of all over a Silurhean. Besides, we will soon have bigger problems to deal with that we don't need to get hung up on this." To the humiliated women he added, "Now if you don't mind, I have a meeting with the Clanlord Rijaal N'han Haj-Bollar to discuss his..." He paused to choose his words wisely, "Plans."
 
"Yes, and I wish you the best of luck. In fact, I shall be joining you with Ian." Nidale bowed; as the Dalassi warriors set about removing the bodies, Shahab of the Indumon family took a deep breath, then turned to one of the brightly shining computer screen projections hovering low over the inclined table-like surface and put his hand against the snowy image. The garbled signal quickly clarified into the image of a brightly-lit bedroom.
 
Sighing, he studied the fair, silver-haired woman in a satiny pink and purple gown, laying on her back on the giant cup-shaped green leaf that served as their bed, bathing in the soft light of the white half-moon orb protruding from the ceiling. She was smiling brightly while holding a giggling infant above her as the baby reached for the pair of antennae swaying gently on her mother's forehead. It was Ardwen, his full blooded former Silurhean Droathas wife and their two month old daughter Laini.
 
At first glance his heart swelled with happiness; he couldn't wait to embrace them and tell them he loved them, and after seeing so much death it was a relief to behold the newness of life and the mother who proudly carried Laini within her for three whole seasons.
 
He almost felt bad about coming through and interrupting them; but sending himself through a clear transmission like this would save him a great deal of magic energy that he would spend repeatedly teleporting himself to the horizon until he finally got home.
 
With little more than a strong wish, Shahab's body glowed brightly and then stretched out like spaghetti, becoming one with the data stream linking the Silurhean base computer to the one in Ardwen's bedroom. Time and space became irrelevant; through the power of magic the distance between origin and destination points became nothing more than a meaningless number. The universe simply stepped out of the way and the beginning and end points became one. On the other side a gush of energy spilled onto the ground, forming a vertical column of liquid light which in the blink of an eye swelled into his normal body shape. In the blink of an eye Shahab was in Ardwen's bedroom, standing before her and their daughter.
 
***
 
"John Marquez, huh?"
 
Delucina, a naked, gray-skinned, white-haired Rikati fairy warrior, was lying on her back in a clearing in a grove of tall pine trees under the twilight sky, basking in the afterglow of a satisfying orgasm, with two topaz-blonde Arari laying on either side of her, each with her head on her bosom.
 
"Yeah..." the Arari to her left - Henna - said, turning to kiss one of Delucina's dark, stiff nipples. "He came here from a world called Earth, to flee a war with something called the Grue Combine."
 
Delucina shuddered, kissing Henna's lips while caressing her back; then she raised an eyebrow. "Salkani, didn't you say this... 'Wendy Jones' that you ate..."
 
Salkani, the other Arari, was marvelling at the shape of Delucina's breast and the feminine, yet well defined muscles of her belly. Kissing her lover's abdomen, she looked to the drow fairy and replied, "Her memories were a bit of a jumble. From what I gathered, she had intended to deliver these humans to some other planet to be made into soldiers. But the part I don't understand is... her partners... something called the Dark Hand... or was it Black Hand... betrayed her?"
 
Delucina's stomach gurgled loudly, causing Henna to lift her head with a delighted surprise. "And the humans in the bellies of the fish I ate... they were fleeing a war against winged creatures that threatened to devour their species."
 
"You know..." Henna lowered her elfin ear to Delucina's bosom, listening in on the sloshing and bubbling noises of her stomach churning and digesting a fish she'd swallowed a while back. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say they were fleeing from us."
 
Delucina laughed out loud. "I got the same impression from the memories of the ones I ate."
 
"And yet the gods delivered them right into our hungry tummies," Salkani giggled.
 
The Rikati warrior shook her head. "I wish I had seen their ship fall from the sky. There were..." She turned to Salkani, "How many did you say there were on that ship?"
 
Salkani sighed. "Four thousand, according to Wendy's memories..."
 
Henna whistled. "All men? Well heck, we could have had sex with a few before we ate them!"
 
Their simultaneous burst of laughter was cut off by a massive, blinding flash of light in the sky, in the opposite direction from where the sun had already set over the mountains.
 
"What was that?!" Henna cried, turning around.
 
Delucina immediately scrambled to her feet and staggered back as she beheld an impossibly vast dome of light rising into the night sky, encompassing almost her entire field of vision as it took the shape and color of a ball of fire on a great stem of flame.
 
Delucina had seen the catastrophic eruption of a Nosharti fairy's psychopathic temper once or twice - just often enough to recognize the mushroom cloud that resulted from the explosive release of a suicidal fairy's entire magic energy reserves. But this was far bigger than any explosion that she'd witnessed before; and worse yet...
 
"Nenothab..." Delucina's throat suddenly dried up as she pointed. "Nenothab city is in that direction..."
 
"What... is that?!" Henna said, her heart leaping into her throat as she put her hand to her mouth.
 
Suddenly, Delucina panicked and howled a series of chants; to Henna's and Salkani's surprise, they were lifted off the ground.
 
"Delucina?" Salkani started to say, before they cleared the treetops and what she saw next drove all semblance of thought from her mind.
 
Before her unbelieving eyes, night turned into day as a fireball as big as a mountain loomed over their homeland, where a bustling metropolitan forest city was supposed to exist; bolts of lightning lashed out from its mushroom-like head, touching off massive secondary explosions at its swelling base. A massive wall of fire and earth was scouring the land in its wake, consuming the entire forest while swelling in height as it raced toward them, like a tsunami born in the bowels of Hell itself.
 
Her mind had barely the time to process this horrifying sight before they were slammed by an invisible hand that sent them hurtling backwards.
 
Even if Henna or Salkani had knowledge of a shield spell strong enough to save them from this blast wave, they had been simply too stunned to cast it. Delucina, fortunately was a Rikati warrior; she had been trained to stay focused when hell broke loose, and to react effectively. Her shield spell had been cast upon them as soon as they left the ground.
 
Even so, as a warrior, she was well learned about the concept of thermal radiation and blast overpressure, as a result of her people's encounters with the Nosharti; the worst was yet to come, and with an explosion of this magnitude, even she lacked the magic energy to protect them.
 
So instead she teleported them out of harm's way.
 
In a flash, they were all relocated to the top of the mountains overlooking the land, far away from the reach of the explosion. The far end of the valley, usually obscured by clouds or sheer distance, was fully illuminated by the fireball swelling into the sky.
 
Once Delucina settled their feet on the smooth rocks of one mountain's summit, she staggered back and put her hand to her mouth, now rendered completely speechless by the mushroom cloud they were viewing from above the valley. The three of them remained unmoving as they watched the entire surrounding forest was lit ablaze and then mowed down by the invisible shock waves spreading out across the land in all directions.
 
"Nenothab..." Salkani gasped, her hand over her mouth as she watched the devastation. "What in the world could have done that?!"
 
Delucina stood there with her mouth hanging open, her lightning reflexes and warrior's instincts giving way to sheer horror and disbelief. "Whatever it was, it came from out of nowhere..."
 
Flashes of light, both tiny and distant as well as near and large, began to appear in the immediate area, catching Henna's attention. "Our people..."
 
A male fairy with jet black hair, raven black lips and albino skin, howled in agony nearby as several other fairies immediately fell upon him, all of them punching, kicking and screaming.
 
"Dear Rhea!" Henna cried, pointing. "A Nosharti! He's one of the monsters who did this to us!"
 
The erupting ruckus snapped Delucina out of her funk immediately. "No!" she yelled, turning abruptly and flying into the fray. "No! Wait! The Nosharti couldn't have done this to us! Back off, now!"
 
A crackling sound accompanied a blinding flurry of lightning bolts that flung half a dozen fairies away from their wounded, battered Nosharti male victim.
 
Holding him in her arms, Delucina shouted at the group, "He isn't responsible for the destruction of Nenothab! Not even a group of Nosharti could have done that!" The flickering, diminishing light from the fireball rising over the valley lit up her face faintly as other fairies drew closer to listen. "I know it looks like it came out of nowhere, but obviously some new enemy has befallen us, and has saw fit to wipe us out in one great stroke!"
 
Salkani turned, her voice trembling. "It's the gods!" Pointing at the rapidly dimming mushroom cloud, she said, "What else could unleash such power?!"
 
A deep, rich voice spoke confidently behind her as someone pressed against her back, "Why of course, the Arajo and the Biashal tribes."
 
Delucina noticed the white soul aura of the human being floating in mid-air, standing with his back to Salkani's. "Salkani, look out!"
 
The Arari fairy turned to see the back of someone's gray gunmetal gauntleted hand swinging into her face; and that was the last thing she ever saw.
 
***
 
Private Mbarat Wulande of the Arajo Clan's 23rd Mobile Air Infantry, 4th Platoon, 1st Squad, had spent years in simulators, fighting countless hungry but imaginary Silurhean and Kadruata maurauders. He'd spent years wishing he could leave the land of Nazon and see the rest of the world, and despising fate for keeping his people restricted to the continent where their mothership crashed, for fear of bringing the Grue Combine's wrath - or worse, their hunger - down upon them. For generations his people wallowed in their anger, their impotence and their total helplessness as they were forced to hide, unable to take their place as rulers of the planet, for fear of being discovered and devoured.
 
Finally, one man - Rijaal N'han Haj-Bollar - stepped up to the task of delivering them from their seclusion - first with fantastic new technological and military wonders that transformed their entire society, and then his bold promises of glory, war and global conquest. His inauguration as Clanlord was the most celebrated in Arajo history, and he delivered hastily upon his promises: before the end of his second year as Clanlord, Rijaal N'han Haj-Bollar unleashed the Arajo military upon the world.
 
And so Mbarat Wulande, a soldier picked at random, was granted the highest honor of any soldier in service to the Arajo Freehold: he was the first human to attack the enemy close-up. The first into battle.
 
His first victim was intended to be a Rikati fairy, the mightiest of them all. Unfortunately, as he was teleported into battle by a Biashal fairy, he discovered the Rikati had moved.
 
It made no difference to him who would be the first to die. The first kill would be his.
 
Private Mbarat Wulande's backhand struck an Arari across the face, igniting nanotech contact explosives. The fairy's skull and upper body splattered in a cloud of smoke, blood, brains and bone fragments; Wulande's armored exoskeleton, however, hardly felt it.
 
The Rikati he had intended to kill first, was too distracted with a wounded Nosharti male; two more targets for him to kill.
 
G-forces exerted against his body as his thrusters obeyed his thoughts and shot him forward. He was greeted by what would normally be the blinding flash of an electric storm, but his capacitors were designed for it, as was his combat display; the flash was suppressed, and his targets' facial details remained crystal clear. The ashy-skinned female's look of horror put a smile on his face as he kicked her out of the way, his fist then delivering another explosive punch - this time to the Nosharti's abdomen, the resulting blast tearing him in half.
 
Deftly, he turned and aimed his right fist at the Rikati; on-screen digital power meters surged to maximum charge as he unleashed a beam of white light from his wrist that split her body in two vertical parts from her crotch to her head. The two halves tumbled back to the ground, splattering blood and entrails as they bounced down the side of the mountain.
 
At the same time, hundreds of soldiers in exo-skeletons arrived, punching and opening fire upon the enemy. Explosions and streaks of deadly light filled the sky.
 
Private Wulande turned and followed the hail of fire, identifying several more targets fleeing from the fight. Both his hands raised, unleashing a volley of green laser beams. Power meters surged to maximum again as he carved his way through six more fairies...
 
But two were already ready for him, their magic shields deflecting his attacks.
 
So be it, he thought with an ever widening grin; noticing their gray chitinous armor, he rushed the lead fairy - a silver-haired Droathas - and delivered a left-hook contact explosive punch to her face.
 
The blast told, but it did not kill; the fairy was driven back by the interaction between her magic shields and the explosive energy of his attack. Apparently, the prodigious amount of power he put into overwhelming the Rikati's shields to kill her, left him with insufficient reserves to deliver a one-shot kill to another fairy with equally powerful defenses. Yet at the same time the other, a topaz-haired Arari, took a direct shot in the face from laser beams launched by his right fist; her shields died that time around, allowing his beam to tear away her left cheek. The wounded fairy grabbed her face and fell away.
 
Private Mbarat could not waste the opportunity to make a wounded fairy a dead fairy; and so, with his energy weapons partially depleted, he opted for a single explosive dart into her back. Her body shattered into bloody debris that rained from the sky.
 
But at the same time, he forgot about the speed and strength of the Droathas; the first punch from her shielded fist rattled him and caused his combat display to flicker. The next couple of hits came in barely more than the blink of an eye, causing warning messages to appear all over his screen.
 
But Mbarat gave back as good as he got; he retaliated with a flurry of blows from his iron-shod fists that, while they came slower, hit much harder. The Droathas's magic shield faltered, and one strike finally made it through.
 
No contact explosives went off this time, but none were needed; with the force he was putting behind those blows, his metalshod fist crushed the fairy's nose and cracked her skull. The next punch met no resistance at all from the fairy's shields, plowing through the carnivorous abomination's head, spilling even more blood and brains all over the ground.
 
Private Wulande snarled at all the warning messages, willing them to go away. All around him there were men and women in exoskeletons in a wall formation, pushing forward, sweeping the skies like an aerial threshing machine.
 
He grinned; this wasn't a battle, it was a mass execution. Clearly, the Arajo Freehold was ready to claim this world as their own.
 
His arrogance, however, got the best of him at that moment. A surge of electricity struck his armored suit, feeding his capacitors and his crude energy deflector system; but as he turned to fire upon the fairy who attacked him, another jumped in his face, wrapping their legs around his body.
 
It was an albino-skinned female... a porcelain fairy. She was a mix between a Droathas and a Rikati. The Arajo military were always on the lookout for these rare types - they were strong like a Rikati and fast like a Droathas. Plus they had the deepest magic reserves of any carnivorous fairy, exceeding that of even most of his fellow Biashal Dalassi fairies.
 
The blows came like rocks hitting him in the head; his display flickered and died, leaving him blind even as he struggled to respond as fast as he could. He clapped the fairy in the head with more contact explosives set off in the palm of his hand, unable to even see whether his move was successful.
 
It wasn't.
 
His helmet was ripped off his painfully rattled head, revealing to him the angry scowl of a fairy whose face practically glowed in the night.
 
No sooner did Private Wulande blinked than he found himself curled into a fetal position in his under shorts, trapped in a swampy, fleshy pouch, enclosed in total darkness and wallowing in a puddle of liquid.
 
The frenetic rush of air moving back and forth somewhere nearby, along with a rapid, familiar drumbeat, told him everything else that he needed to know:
 
He had been teleported out of his battle armor and into the porcelain fairy's stomach.
 
Suddenly he was thrown this way and that, waves of fluid splashing and sloshing all over him as the walls of his captor's stomach clenched. A hissing noise filled the cramped chamber as he felt his butt rubbing bare against the slimy surface.
 
He was being rendered naked; his shorts were melting. Private Wulande's heart finally leapt into his throat and he screamed in terror as the fairy's stomach clenched him again, kneading more of its warm, gooey acids into his skin. His hair began to fall out of his head as the process of digestion began.
 
And then, after another moment of being tossed around by the fairy's churning stomach, his scream melted into a laugh.
 
All Bollar soldiers were required to be rejuvenated in the womb of a Biashal or Nangwaya woman to maximize their health - and to be made immune to digestion.
 
Private Mbarat Wulande reared his head and laughed heartily as his body soaked in the acids of the stomach in which he was now being held. Knowing the awful twist of fate that awaited this fairy, he resigned himself to relax and enjoy the slippery wet full body massage.
 
A few moments later, as the acidic fumes that should have melted his lungs were only starting to become an unpleasantly acrid odor, the hissing and bubbling of his hair dissolving was drowned out by the horrified wail of the fairy who'd eaten him; and then eveything around him dissolved into ashes.
 
His laughter ended abruptly when this sent him into freefall. This time, he screamed, and did not stop.
 
Private Mbarat Wulande of the Arajo Clan's 23rd Mobile Air Infantry, 4th Platoon, 1st Squad, was the first Bollar soldier into battle. He was the first Bollar soldier to score a kill. And when he was dashed against the rocks of the mountainside, he was the first Bollar soldier to die.
 
***
 
"Oooh!" Ardwen yelped with delight upon noticing her husband Shahab's arrival, turning her baby toward him. "Lookie there, daddy's back!"
 
Tugging habitually at his robe, Shahab stepped forward and knelt at the side of the bed to reach out for Laini. The plump, squirmy chocolate-toned infant squealed with joy, flashing a toothless but highly enthusiastic smile as soon as she saw her father; as soon as Ardwen handed her over to him, she reached out with her tiny hand and grabbed his nose.
 
"Uh oh," Shahab faked a tone of despair as he held her close to him, "she's got my nose!"
 
"Actually I think she's got more my nose than yours, sweetie," she joked, sitting on the edge of the leafy bed, planting her feet on either side of his knees.
 
Laini released his nose as he started chuckling, turning to pulling at his lower lip while she laughed with an innocent childlike amusement. Shahab kissed her hand and turned her on her back, studying her while she lay cradled in his arms. She hadn't grown in her teeth yet, and the antennae on her forehead were mere nubs; her ears were still in the process of growing from a more oval shape, like that of a Bollar's ear, into the pointed elfin form that was the mark of being a fairy. She was considerably more filled out than most other fairy babies her age, but so were all three of her elder sisters and his son Shalo; they were also stronger and hardier, which many saw as a sign of a supposed royal heritage. As he gazed into his baby's hazel eyes, though, his smile melted as he reminded himself vehemently that his children had a right to decide their own destinies. There were few advantages that his mother the Chieftain had over her subjects; a fact that Linjara never seemed to like to admit publicly. Even she could see that the balance of power was shifting towards community consensus. Their tribe was millions strong - far too large for one Chieftain to continue to manage.
 
Ardwen noticed his sudden silence and his deep sigh as his demeanor changed from a rapt smile to a concerned frown. "Honey?" she said, bending down to kiss his forehead, letting his fleshy antennae caress her cheeks briefly before lifting his chin to look into his eyes.
 
"I'm worried about our future," he responded. "You remember what my mother said? All that talk about the children being potential chieftains to succeed me, and I'm not even a chieftain yet..."
 
Ardwen merely nodded, knowing there was more to come.
 
"Today..." he paused to shake his head, "my mother's patience with the Clanlord has run out. I'm going to meet him to speak in her place." He then looked back down at his daughter. "The Arajo clan and the Biashal tribe wiped out all of Oratho and the surrounding zones. They left almost no survivors."
 
Ardwen sighed. "We all saw the news a few minutes ago. When it reaches the general public tonight... there'll be questions. Lots of questions."
 
He shook his head. "The Arajo Council will force our hand. They underestimate the revulsion that the Nangwaya have toward the..." He looked at his baby, and then reconsidered his words. "Terrible things that happened at Oratho today..." He gestured mildly, with frustration, "It's just that they don't care. They will certainly not listen to our pleas for leniency toward, of all things, the carnivorous fairies whom we can save-"
 
"People," she corrected him, reaching down to cup his cheeks. Seeing the confusion on his face, she added, "Of all people, the Silurheans."
 
Shahab nodded slowly as the realization came upon him that his words had more, darker meanings than he'd intended. He certainly did not mean to dehumanize the woman who slew her own mother, a Silurhean chieftain, in the name of upholding the most sacred of Silurhean tribal laws. "Yes... I mean..." he shook his head, "No, I meant, of all matters, the Silurheans."
 
She smiled softly and lifted him up slightly to give him a kiss. The baby cooed in his arms. "I know. I'm just teasing."
 
Seeing his wide-eyed infant starting to suck her thumb, he lifted her up, offering her back to her mother. "I think she's getting hungry."
 
Ardwen happily received her daughter back, cradling her. Seeing her baby reaching for her bosom she nodded enthusiastically. "You'd be best to get this affair with the Clanlord over with, honey..." she advised him. "Sometimes the anticipation makes it worse."
 
Shahab stood up, yanking his robe straight again. "I know... I'm just glad I could spend a moment with you and Laini beforehand... before I have to do what needs to be done."
 
Ardwen stood up as well, lifting her chin to receive a soft kiss from her husband. "I would come with you, but..." She glanced down at her infant expertly getting access into her gown to breast feed, "As you can see..."
 
Shahab smirked, then bowed respectfully, backing out of the room. "I will be back tonight," he said; and then the silver and pink silken curtains drew closed behind him.
 
Righting himself, he turned and immediately came face to face with his Alpha wife Nenea. She was a head shorter than he was, but like a typical Arari, she was deliciously curvy. with breasts that he could mold in his hands almost like jelly... which he would have done that moment, had he not seen the azure soul auras of two of his and Nenea's children emerging into the hallway behind her: four year old Taraka, named after the goddess Tarajika, and 1 year old Shalo, his still wobbly-legged son and the second youngest child in the family, both clad in yellow and white form-hugging one-piece strongleaf** loungers. And of course, there was the soul aura of Malikana, his 2 year old daughter by Ethara; he could make out Malikana's aura on the other side of a solid wall. The shorter blob of blue moving next to her would no doubt be the soul aura of 3 year old Fiana, the first daughter he fathered with Ardwen, born within days after Nenea had birthed Taraka.
 
"I thought I heard a noise in there," Nenea greeted with a bright smile that lit up her face.
 
Shahab's hands contrasted in many ways with Nenea's; hers were smooth, petite and fair, and his were larger, more muscled, and chocolatey brown in comparison. His hands weren't worn or calloused, but they looked imposing and mighty even for a male, and when his right hand was pressed gently against Nenea's cheek, with his thumb cradling her chin, it covered the entire side of her face, with his fingers reaching almost past her backswept elfin ears.
 
But Nenea, for her almost diminutive size - one and a half heads shorter than him - was deceptively strong. She was an accomplished warrior even before she'd met him, having fled with her lover Ardwen from their Silurhean camp to escape their carnivorous ways. And as gentle as her touch was when she touched his hand against her face, Shahab would never forget the way in which he encountered these Nenea and Ardwen - standing back to back, their hands and arms practically sheathed in gauntlets of crimson with the blood of Silurhean warriors laying dead at their feet, with even more closing in from the shadows behind the nearby trees - the ones he and his patrol intercepted and quickly laid to waste. He might have dismissed her, fighting his own kindling lusts, had she not seen his swelling erection through his brownish, skin-tight combat suit and gasped with amazement, lust and a hint of fear.
 
Before he knew it he was taking her as his, right there on the spot, standing upright in a poorly lit forest clearing. The petite yet curvaceous Arari who had served as a pleasure servant for warrior women before he was even born, was serving Shahab's needs - impaled on a penis that even larger-framed Nivalavi and Dalassi women often looked at with as much concern as lust. That day, as with every day other hence, Nenea gave as good as she got, milking his seed from his loins and the very strength from his legs. Nenea's Meluwa** Ardwen, whom he later found out was a chieftain's daughter, then took her turn with him as he lay on his back. All while his fellow warriors watched, struck completely dumb by the total shamelessness of their mating - on a blood soaked battlefield, no less.
 
Of course, their pairing had been utterly scandalous back at home. Countless women of the Nangwaya and Biashal clans - even the women of the human Arajo clans - knew of and sought him as a mate; Shahab had gained a reputation of being young, adept, and notoriously picky. His mother Linjara, after all she had taught him about the virtues of exogamy, went so far to even privately accuse her own son of an 'improper' mating, as he was clearly driven by the chaotic and powerful interaction of two types of lust - one for battle, and one for sex. The accounts of him mating in the open, amidst his comrades, amidst the corpses of freshly slain Silurheans, with both participants slathered in the blood of the fallen, had both fascinated and outraged millions. But the fact that he had returned home with two ex-Silurheans who were now children of Gaia, and that Ardwen's mother was a chieftain, whom she slew to save Nenea, was even more captivating. Ardwen's act of bravery and adherence to the Silurhean tribal laws against cannibalism, even at the cost of fighting her own mother and of losing her right to ascendancy, had great appeal to the masses. There were also other, more dire political implications that Ardwen's life history presented, which made Linjara's political causes all the more popular. Linjara thus initially accepted Ardwen as her daughter in law out of sheer political expediency. As a former Silurhean who turned "good" Nenea was, to the public, a proverbial former sinner who was saved; many fairies wanted to be seen as her friend or fan, for that reason alone. Which made Hollani's death all the more depressing...
 
"Shahab, my love!" her playfully chastising voice snapped him back into reality. "You're daydreaming again."
 
Shahab shook his head clear, taking his hand away from her cheek. With a big smirk and a shameful shaking of his head, he chuckled, "I was thinking of... the first time I met you."
 
The mere reference to the savage and immodest sex that took place as soon as they laid eyes on each other, never failed to make Nenea blush; and now was not an exception. Her cheeks turned pink as she sucked in her breath; then she turned to try and send the children back to their bedrooms, but that was a lost cause when Malikana rushed out, her sisters close at her heels.
 
"Daddy!" Fiana, Taraka and Malikana yelled, pouring around her to grab their father's legs. Shalo stood by his mother's side, saying quietly, "Dada!"
 
Shahab's heart swelled as he was overwhelmed by his children. A wave of his hand lifted his son off his feet and into his arms. Shalo smelled of fresh powder from the ground up dried petals of Casna flowers, which were meant to keep his skin healthy. Fortunately, he would not be getting any more nasty surprises when he picked up his baby boy; Shalo, having recently been weaned onto solid foods, was no longer the messy baby he used to be. Shalo was almost as big as his older sisters, and his hair was rapidly growing out, woolly with strands of topaz starting to emerge - no doubt a legacy from his mother.
 
"Dada!" his son called out again, grabbing at his hair.
 
Shahab kissed his son and then knelt to kiss his daughters. "Hi, my precious little angels! Daddy is here for just a moment, and I promise I will be back by morning!"
 
"Daddy can you tell us all about the Arajo ruins when you get back?" the mostly platinum-haired Taraka begged, taking a gentle hold of his arm.
 
Taraka's lips spread as she added, "Pleeeease?", revealing the gap in her teeth.
 
Shahab gently placed his son on his feet and rubbed Taraka's head. "I will. I promise," he said, kissing her again, on her forehead. The growing antennae above her eyebrows twitched, then stood straight up. "But you have to promise me not to have nightmares, okay?"
 
"Yayyy!" she hopped up and down, kissing her father's cheek. "I promise! I really do!"
 
"Okay, my little angels!" Nenea admonished, "Taraka, you have math homework to tend to... and Fiana, if you work hard your horticulture essay will be done five days in advance... now go make mommy proud!"
 
"Okay, mom!" Taraka and Fiana replied.
 
After taking other requests from his other daughters, he kissed his children goodbye, then gave Nenea a full, firm kiss on her lips, and then bid them all farewell.
 
By the time Shahab left his upside-down mushroom-shaped home with a roof shaped like a cross between a stem and poured ice-cream, he felt completely recharged - almost rejuvenated, as if he had just been fed to one of his wives' hungry wombs, absorbed into her and planted in a new mortal shell. Most of all, he felt like he might almost be emotionally strong enough to deal with the Arajo Clanlord.
 
As if that wasn't good enough, he spotted his wife Ethara shooting up the steeply sloped, heavily forested walls of the canyon in which their neighborhood was nestled, over the roofs of countless houses below. The cool, moaning evening wind gusted at her back, making her earth toned wings waver as she sailed above him, using her magic to help guide her so that she came in for a gliding landing in front of their home, like a leaf fluttering to the ground. Two large dahla pods swung by her waist, their stems hooked to her long beige skirt.
 
Ethara, the raven-haired daughter of a Bollar female scientist and a Nivalavi male warrior, was a statuesque fairy, the tallest and eldest of his wives, and by far the strongest, although her muscles were smooth and feminine, and quite deceptive. Still, even one with an untrained eye would not mistake this luscious coffee-toned woman for an easy mark in a fight. The seasoned warrior and trainer to everyone from everyday young magic students to his mother's own warchief, had beaten him twice in the singles combat tournaments that the Chieftain traditionally oversaw, in an attempt to force him to accept her as his mate. Of course, when she approached Nenea and Ardwen, they fell in love with her right off. Knowing of Shahab's hidden desires for her, they convinced him to put his inhibitions aside and marry Ethara into the family. It was one of the three smartest things he'd ever done in his life.
 
Shahab watched Ethara's wings folding behind her. "Ethara, my beloved," he greeted, taking her hands in his, "how did training go?"
 
"I taught my new magic students how to teleport today," Ethara laughed, "you should have seen one student Venisha... she teleported an entire plate full of gollaps into her tummy."
 
Shahab laughed. "Oh, no! I remember doing that once, with dahlas." He then shook his head. "I drove my mother and my fellow students crazy with the incessant... well, you know."
 
Ethara pressed against him, planting a soft kiss on his full lips. "I heard. I doubt your belly was nearly as loud as Venisha's though."
 
Shahab folded his arms as he noticed her gazing down slightly. "Ah hah... all those loud sloshing tummy noises made you horny, didn't it?"
 
The wind picked up in force again, howling through the trees around them; the distraction gave his wife time to think of a witty response. "Hey, don't start teasing me," she giggled; then she glanced around with caution before adding, "but yeah, in fact, we all enjoyed listening to her tummy." She lifted her ankle-length cottony skirt slightly. "Want to see?"
 
Shahab moaned softly; then he reached out, lifting her chin for another quick kiss. "I desperately want to take you up on that, but you never know who might be passing by... and of course I've got... duties to tend to. The Arajo clan is preparing to launch a full scale genocidal war."
 
Ethara's face twisted into a concerned frown. "Genocide?"
 
He nodded. "Oratho was obliterated. Almost all the children in the city perished."
 
Ethara gasped. "You can't be serious..."
 
"The worst part is... it was only a dry run for a major worldwide offensive."
 
Ethara shook her head with disbelief. "That's... that would be insane... unholy..."
 
"Indeed. This meeting is not going to be pleasant..." He sighed.
 
Ethara cringed. "But it is necessary! The Arajo clan has long misunderstood the Nangwaya. If our people find out that the battle of Oratho ended in the deaths of everyone... much less that the Arajo master plan is the systematic extermination of Silurhean men, women and children alike..." She put her hand to her mouth. "Many of us have Silurhean parents, all of whom have become reborn in Tarajika... and we would never allow the murder of children on the battlefield..."
 
"Which is why we were not called upon in the attack on Oratho..." Shahab's eyes widened with realization.
 
"If we join the Arajo and the Biashal in battle, we would be accomplices..." Ethara started to say.
 
"No. Our people would refuse to join them," Shahab finished for her. "Our relations with the Arajo and the Biashal would..." Suddenly, a smile crossed his face. "Disintegrate overnight..."
 
Ethara was aghast. "What's so pleasant about that?"
 
Shahab cast her a grin. "Nothing. It's just that..." he sighed. "Trust me. I now have a plan. We can do this." His smile grew even wider. "Before we go... you wanted to show me how much Venisha turned you on?"
 
Ethara shook her head. "You must really have this one in the bag..." Glancing down from their spot on the steep canyon walls to the group of adult fairies and children in tow strolling across a well-lit walkway below, she said, "Deal. But only if you let me take you to your meeting."
 
It wasn't hard to read between the lines with an offer like that. The idea of being teleported into Ethara's womb, or perhaps being swallowed by her vagina, and then absorbed into her, made him swell all over again with arousal. It was always a wonderful experience to become magic energy to fuel a woman's spellcasting; but Ethara was the least shameful about allowing his body to become calories within her as well. It was a forbidden pleasure for a fairy to enjoy the warmth of her prey's mortal shell becoming pure energy and flowing through her veins, much less to let it settle as a bit of extra weight to fill out her figure or enhance her muscles, but it was also harmless to him. Indeed, the entire process of being absorbed by her womb was highly beneficial - in his new mortal shell he would be made even healthier and stronger than he was now.
 
"Hmmm, you drive a hard bargain..." her husband pondered, rubbing his chin facetiously. "Okay, I accept."
 
Ethara gestured to the far side of their house, to a tall, broad tree guarding a spot nestled between the heavily shaded wall and the sheer canyon cliff. "How about we go there?"
 
Shahab looked up the limestone-like layers of the cliff wall and studied the shadows of people walking several meters above. "You sure others won't see us?"
 
Ethara nodded. "I'll use an illusion spell. They won't see a thing."
 
Shahab heard her out, then licked his lips in contemplation. "Hmmm... that's a good idea."
 
"Then please, follow me, sweetie," his wife said, motioning to him with her finger.
 
He smirked as he followed her to the most heavily shaded side of the house, where she raised her hands and uttered a spell, causing herself to be enveloped and hidden in a shell made of leaves, twigs and dirt. Shahab stepped through the veil of illusions and took his waiting wife into his arms for a soft kiss, savoring the warm fullness of her lips. Ethara's tongue delved into his mouth; and then in the blink of an eye, she was like a giantess, holding his now diminutive body in her hand.
 
Ethara bent her knees, squatting down so as to spread open her labia naturally, giving him a full view of her pink, glistening vaginal muscles gulping at the air in anticipating of him. The contraction of her pink walls was so intense that it pushed air outwards, like a warm, musky breath washing all over his body: a display of her body's physical strength that was as feminine as it was awe-inspiring. The sight of Ethara's womanhood pulsating hungrily above, sapped him of even the will to resist her; the only thing he could think of was how badly he wanted... needed... to be swallowed whole by the petal-like lips awaiting him. Far from being one to deny her own needs, his wife was quick to slide him inside, head-first. Her vaginal muscles sucked him completely inside with a sloppy wet slurp, and he was swiftly delivered into the molten hot center of her womanhood, where he became a part of his wife all over again.
 
Meanwhile, Ethara put her hand to her mouth as Shahab's thoughts flowed into her and she suddenly became aware of what he had planned for his meeting. "Dear Tarajika..." she giggled, sweeping her hands to her sides and launching into the sky.
 
 
 
* Warrior Maiden - a term describing an unmated fairy warrior woman of either exo-symbiotic or carnivorous groups. Warrior maidens are infamous for their reckless, violent, impulsive nature, and are typically the "first into battle". They may also be highly experienced - shock troopers, infiltrators, special forces, commandos, etc., but even they are typically highly aggressive. This is because the persistent shortage of males among fairies forces fairy warrior women to prove their worth and their ability to defend their family if called to do so. Warrior maidens are motivated by the fear and shame of losing their male mate to the enemy, a loss that would affect the entire community - every dead male means far fewer children, less genetic diversity, and males are also insanely powerful compared to their female counterparts. One dead male warrior is like losing four or five female warriors, or more, and every sentient enemy of fairy-kind knows to go after the males first. It is not uncommon to see warrior maidens throw themselves in front of a male to take the arrow, so to speak.
 
** Meluwa (plural: meluwe) - a member of a Meluwen group. Meluwen groups are always women, and thus a Meluwa is a woman member of a given Meluwen group. Men do not refer to a woman as a Meluwa; it is a term used by one woman to another member of her own Meluwen group. When a male is found and mated to a Meluwen group, the women in the group do not call each other "wives", they call each other "Meluwa" (single) or "Meluwe" (plural).
 
*** Strongleaf - a universal word to describe any form of fabric created from one thick leaf or several pressed together by hand, by machinery or by psi/magic (from least to most common method). The material is preserved to prevent both decay and excessive hardening. Most commonly the preservative is psi- or magic-based, and is evolved from watching it done with chemicals and machinery. Strongleaf and cotton based clothing are the most common clothing among all fairies, from carnivorous Silurheans to the psychic-capable Bollars and the exo-eymbiotes of the nation of Siluvara, and while initial production of cotton or strongleaf fabric was mechanical, ages ago, 99% of the time now on most planets, it is done with the simplest of telekinesis or magic. Strongleaf fabric weaving is one of the very first magic skills ever learned by a fairy when his/her magic manifests in their 20s.