A Paladin's Training Ch. 09

Before Darius could wonder how she avoided detection from the other Paladins, the answer came to him from Morgeth; on the battlefield, her presence had been masked by the sheer number of darkspawn around, and back in the camp, no Paladins had had any reason to be on alert, what with the war won.

Why Firesong had remained quiet in Morgeth's presence, however, remained a mystery. A Paladin's weapon was a part of its maker, something indescribable, an essence infused upon its creation. Firesong had always burst into flame when darkspawn approached, a reflection of Darius's undying commitment to their destruction. And yet, somehow, here they were.

This dark train of thought ate at his mind until an unspoken message entered his awareness from Morgeth. "You are the Sunblade. The Lord Commander of the Hammer of the Light. What you decide, happens." He looked over to see Morgeth watching him, a sultry smile on her face. With fresh resolve, they raced on through the night.

An hour or so later, they reigned in their horses in unison, unable to deny themselves any longer. Without a word, they dismounted and began to strip, leaving their clothes heaped in piles on the grass. It was a beautiful night, and the moon was full, providing ample light for Darius to admire Morgeth in all her nude glory. Pale of skin and dark of hair, she was a vision, five feet tall, with an hourglass figure, full, round breasts with hips and thighs to match.

Darius knew, however, that this was not her true form.

With a seductive sigh, Morgeth raised her arms above her head, stretching as if flexing muscles she hadn't used for a long time. Her body began to change, growing taller, until she was six feet or more, equal to Darius. She began to fill out, her breasts growing larger, fuller, until they were proud orbs he could never hope to get a hand around. The rest of her followed suit, her hips and thighs thickening, while at the same time not growing fat, simply more... womanly. Her skin darkened, taking on a red hue, her face becoming even more alluring, her eyelashes longer, her lips thicker, her eye teeth pointed. A tail erupted from the base of her spine, curling around in front of her, snaking between her legs briefly before wrapping snugly around her slim waist. Black wings also appeared from behind her, stretching languidly in the moonlight before folding, the tips visible over her shoulders.

Darius took her in, his cock standing straight out before him. Never in his life had he felt desire this powerful. He felt an equal desire from Morgeth as they rushed to each other, their bodies slamming together, their lips mashing in wanton lust. Her huge tits billowed against his strong chest as their tongues dueled, each trying to devour the other. Veins of darkness and light pulsed against each other in the intricate spider web of their Bond, driving them to heights unimagined by human or demon.

A surprising revelation cut through the haze of Darius's lust; for the first time in her long life, Morgeth wanted a man to take control. He bore her to the ground, laying her on her back, her generous thighs open, inviting him. Her slick, hairless sex glistened in the moonlight, drawing his turgid member toward it. Unable to prevent it even had he wanted to, his hips thrust forward, burying him to the hilt inside the most delicious pussy he had ever experienced.

Morgeth's scream of pleasure echoed across the plain as his balls came to rest on her ample bottom. He took a moment to savour the feeling of her warm, slick tunnel enveloping his cock, squeezing him tantalisingly, tempting him to empty himself inside her.

Not yet, though, not until he was done fucking her. He began to piston his hips savagely, driving into her with all the force his warrior's body could muster. She met his every thrust with her own bucking pelvis, her long legs wrapped around his waist, her fangs buried in his shoulder.

He roared at the pleasure more than the pain, pumping harder, trying to drive her into the ground. Before long, his balls boiled, churning with unforetold urgency. With a mighty bellow, he thrust one last time, the deepest yet, his cock erupting inside her, the seed of the Sunblade entering the waiting womb of the demoness Morgeth.

***

Aran's eyes focused, fixated on the orb, the sensation of the demoness beneath him while he fucked her still burned into his mind. His body was wracked with lust, with the feeling of total abandonment that Darius had felt. His breeches were painfully tight, his member straining against the fabric as if trying to tear it's way free. Dark lust coursed through him, flooding his vision, tempting him, beckoning him to become the mindless animal Darius had become.

***

Time flashed forward. Images raced through his vision, of Darius, and Morgeth, all blending together in a moving mosaic, but somehow, Aran understood.

Morgeth, her belly round, pregnant with Darius' child. No, children! Aran watched through Darius' eyes as the succubus gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl.

Time flashed forward again. Darius, captured and kneeling before the Order of Aros, receiving judgment. Morgeth, hundreds of miles away, screaming in agony as the Gift of Aros was torn from Darius, destroying their Bond and leaving her weak, helpless.

Flash. The Paladins of Aros confronting Morgeth, destroying her utterly, but not before she had carefully hidden her children away, out of reach of the Order.

Flash. A slow darkness overtaking the Order of Aros, Paladins beginning to turn on each other, eventually leading to an internal war, destroying the Order from the inside out, grand temples razed to the ground, thousands of Gifted killed.

Flash. The world moving forward without the Order. The Temples left still standing slowly falling into decay, Paladins all but wiped out, the survivors retreating into hiding, living out their remaining years keeping their Gift a secret.

***

No! I need to fight! Aran's inner voice screamed at him, at the darkness, as he struggled to maintain control. He searched frantically within himself for something, anything, to hold on to. There! The tiniest pinpoint of light shone through the blackness.

He reached out to it, grasping it, drawing on it, letting it fill his being. The darkness in turn began to recede, retreating from the warmth and light of the Gift. Aran's vision returned, the orb between his palms now clear glass again. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as this time, his hands came free of the sphere. Exhausted, he turned to see Amina standing there, still unclothed.

"What did I just see?" He asked the Priestess. "Did that really happen? Was it real?"

"What you saw was the past," she replied seriously. "A past that you are tied to."

"To me? How?" In his heart, Aran knew the answer that was coming. His stomach was ice.

"You saw your ancestor, Darius the Sunblade. You saw him conquer under the light, and you saw him fall into darkness."

Aran didn't realise he was dropping until his knees hit the ground, followed by his hands. He stared hollowly at the rug on the floor, his fingers curling into fists, his breathing ragged. "He abandoned his people for a demon, abandoned himself for a demon!"

"Remember, Aran, the Truth is always the most difficult to hear."

"Why, though? Why would Aros allow the bond to be forged with a demon?" It didn't make sense.

Compassion laced Amina's honeyed voice. "The will of Aros is not for ones such as us to comprehend, Aran. Gods do what gods will. It is our calling to remain faithful, and serve."

"The children," he muttered, getting his breath under control. "The children survived."

"Indeed they did, Paladin," Amina said gently, kneeling before him. Aran pushed himself up to kneel as she was.

"Are they evil?" He asked the Priestess. "Are they good? Or something in between?"

Amina thought for a moment before responding. "Their motivations are uncertain, Aran, but I fear the worst. Darkness stirs in the world once more, and even the most pure of hearts can be corrupted, as you have seen in the Stone."

Aran nodded at the grim truth in her words.

"Come," Amina said with a kindly smile. "You have endured much, and your heart has felt the taint of darkness, though it was not your own. You must rest and recover."

Together they stood, her smoothly and gracefully, Aran having to force himself to his feet.

She stepped in close, her face inches from his. Her warm breath tingled on his lips as she spoke, almost whispering. "In times past, battle-weary Paladins would seek the refuge of the Temples, for wisdom, healing, and love."

Aran felt flames of fresh energy rising inside him, being so close to this goddess. She smelled like spring flowers and sweet summer wine. She placed her hands on either side of his face, caressing him gently, before pressing the softest lips he had ever felt onto his.

Time vanished, the world disappearing as he returned the kiss, his calloused hands encircling the bare waist of the most beautiful woman to ever grace the earth. The darkness he had felt earlier began to melt away under the loving embrace of the Priestess. He explored her smooth back, running his fingers through her silky golden tresses as she set his lips on fire with hers. Her lush body was pressed firmly against him, molding to him as if designed by a master sculptor. Logic and reason vanished, as Amina broke the kiss to deftly relieve him of his clothing, planting passionate kisses wherever his skin was freshly bared.

Now naked, he revelled in the feeling of her skin against his, her lips on his neck, her hands roaming his back. He grasped a soft, round buttock in each hand and lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her long legs around his waist, still planting luscious kisses on his neck and lips as he carried her over to the bed. With his throbbing length trapped between their bodies, Amina began to press her hips into him, sliding her slick sex along his turgid member, further exciting them both as they reached the bed, Aran laying atop her, pressing her body into the soft mattress.

The head of his cock was pressed lightly against her entrance, sweet warmth beckoning him to bury himself within, their Gifts pulsing and resonating together in harmony. They gazed into each other's eyes for a timeless moment before Aran gently pushed forward, embedding himself in the Priestess. His whole body exploded in sensation, a charge running through him from head to toe. Amina cried out his name as she felt his length enter her, her smooth legs tightening around his waist, pulling him in deeper.

Aran felt like he was in a continuous state of climax that only intensified with each moment, reaching levels of pleasure he'd never before imagined. Their Gifts hummed in time with their cries of pleasure as they lost themselves in their lovemaking, everything else in the universe dwindling to nothing, leaving only the two writhing bodies on the bed, rapt with ecstasy.

*

Aran had no concept for how long he and Amina made love. It could have been an hour, it could have been days. Rather than feeling exhausted, however, he felt like he had had three days' rest.

He was lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, idly studying the carvings engraved in the stone. Amina lay next to him, her soft body pressed up against his, a slim hand caressing his chest.

"So this place is one of the Temples of Aros?" He asked her as he stared up at the many symbols on the ceiling.

"It was," she replied, a touch of sadness in her voice. "Now forgotten by the world, it is gradually falling into decay, more so every year. Hundreds upon hundreds used to visit here for guidance, healing or just to see the Temple in all it's splendor. Dozens of Priests and Priestesses and Paladins resided here, offering their Gift to the world."

Aran could only imagine. "That must have been something. Do you think the Order will ever be fully restored?"

"I hope so. But first we will need to redeem ourselves in the eyes of the rest of the world. When darkness rises again, as we know it will, and the remaining Paladins are there to confront it, perhaps the world will have renewed faith in us."

Deep resolve stirred within Aran. "I will do my utmost to see this happen, and to right the wrongs the Sunblade committed."

Amina smiled, leaning up to bring her face above his. "I have faith in you, Aran. You are strong, and brave, like the Paladins of old. The world needs to see who you are, to see what a Paladin of Aros really is." She kissed him deeply, before giving him a sly smile. "If you were a hundred years older, I may even have offered to Bond with you."

Aran laughed. "A hundred years? Are you sure that's enough?" Then a thought came to him. "Just how old are you, Amina? For all I can tell you look to be roughly my age."

"I am four hundred and seventy-three years old," she replied, as if saying there were rain coming later.

Aran knew that the Gift granted long life, but this was far beyond what he had thought possible. "Gods! Almost five-hundred years! How long does a Priestess live?"

Amusement tinged Amina's voice as she answered. "Our lifespan depends on Aros. The Gift gives us long years, and keeps our bodies youthful, as you know. The stronger our Gift, the longer we live. I was among the strongest Gifted, hence I suspect I am somewhere in my middle years, judging by how long my brothers and sisters lived. I am not immortal, however; I can still be killed like any normal human."

Aran's amazement deepened at the knowledge that Amina could live to be a thousand years old. "Who was the oldest member of the Order?"

"That honor went to Palavus the Ironrod, the strongest Paladin who ever lived." Amina's sapphire eyes sparkled as she remembered. "Over twelve hundred years he walked the earth, and was the epitome of everything the Order stood for. Many monuments were erected in his memory after he passed. He was famous for his proclivities toward women, even among Paladins, which is saying something. It is said he bonded with over five hundred women over the course of his life, and having met the man, I believe it."

"Amazing," Aran said, trying to imagine living for over a millennium. "What was it like to meet him?"

"He visited this very Temple around four hundred years ago. I was a newly raised Priestess, and he was a handsome and renowned Paladin. As soon as our eyes met, we both knew we wanted each other. We spent that night together, a night I will remember for the rest of my days." She smiled as she relived the memory, a faraway look in her eyes. After a moment, she came back to him, her full lips curving in a mischievous smile. "You might be interested to know," she purred, throwing a leg over him. "That it's been over five years since a man has warmed my bed, and I intend to make the most of your time here, young Paladin."

Aran groaned as she slipped onto him, once again sheathing him in her warm wetness. He reached up to cup her breasts, his hands unable to fully encase the pale orbs. "I am sure if the men of the world knew you were here, they would be forming a line from here to the Crown Coast."

"That may be," she sighed as she gently rode him. "But only the ones that are worthy ever find my door."

Aran lay back and basked in the sensation of being ridden by the last remaining High Priestess of Aros, forgetting the outside world for the time being.

***

Maloth luxuriated in the hot bath, feeling the tension seeping from his muscles as his concubines massaged him. This room was all of black stone -- much like the rest of the castle -- and was filled with steam, the purple light from the wall-lamps reflecting on the surface of the water.

Ellerion, the voluptuous, golden-haired, High Elf, a former matriarch of her people, deftly squeezed and rubbed his left thigh, gazing at him adoringly all the while. Simultaneously, Glinda, the exceptionally well-rounded, raven-haired Dwarf, tended his right thigh, offering the same worshipful glances as Ellerion, her alabaster skin slightly paler than the Elf's, contrasting pleasantly with his own crimson.

Glinda, in her former life, had been the sister of a Dwarven king and was royalty in her own right. Now, she was Maloth's, in body and in soul.

As if that were not enough to satisfy, he was reclining back against the wonderful softness of Mali the Giantess, former Seeker of her tribe and his newest acquisition, whose large, dark hands were busy tending to a more pressing matter; his raging hardness.

Mali was seated on the deep, wide step beneath the surface, the water only reaching the very bottom of her monstrous breasts, the brown orbs glistening with a mixture of sweat and moisture from the steamy air. The Giantess was holding Maloth against her body lovingly with one hand on his belly, the other hand stroking his cock. Ellorien and Glinda were both happily straddling Mali's wide brown thighs as they massaged Maloth, grinding themselves against her smooth skin.

His concubines played well together, as they should; they were all his property, now, and would die to see his bidding done. His harem had increased to three with the addition of Mali. Humble beginnings, to be sure, but his particular tastes meant quality before quantity; only women of importance, in positions of power, attracted Maloth. Each one a trophy, a testament to his own superiority and very useful to have on display when creating new alliances, or intimidating foes. His strength would grow with each new woman he added to his collection, but he was determined to maintain patience and discipline, to take only the best.

Maloth closed his eyes and settled back further into Mali's bosom, opening his legs a little further so that Ellerion's questing hands could reach his swollen balls. He reached out to cup a fat Elfin breast in one hand, and and even larger Dwarf's in the other, squeezing firmly.

"Well, I see the bath is full!" Came a voice from the doorway.

Maloth kept his eyes closed, recognising Shenla's sultry tone. "Nonsense," he replied lazily. "There's plenty of room, sister. Make yourself comfortable." It was true, the huge bath was big enough for twenty people, more a pool than a bath.

"Oh I will, my Lord." The sound of more than one pair of feet slapping on the wet tiles brought Maloth to crack an eye open. Shenla was leading Barrog and a Dark Elf Maloth hadn't seen before by their erections, around to the other side of the bath. All three of them were naked.

The elf was tall and well-muscled -- for an Elf -- and had the look of a fighter about him.

"Who's the Elf?" Maloth asked lazily as his voluptuous rose-skinned sister stepped down into the bath, bringing her pets with her, still with a cock in each hand. The water was shallow enough at their end that it only came up to Shenla's thick thighs.

"I picked up Peldin here just before I left Eredor," Shenla replied before bending to eagerly stuff her mouth with the Elf's black phallus. Her other hand expertly stroked Barrog, bringing a deep moan from the huge nine-foot Orc. She pulled her lips free for a moment to add, "he was the captain of Berenor's personal guard, before he met me." She resumed her sucking, moaning with lust as she slurped away.

Maloth frowned a little. His sister did love to play, and occasionally he had to ensure she didn't put his plans at risk. "I assume King Berenor agreed to Peldin leaving his service?" He uttered his own groan of pleasure as Glinda skillfully maneuvered herself so her short legs were straddling him, her smooth pussy bumping against the turgid head of his prick, which was still being stroked by Mali.

The Giantess obligingly lined him up with Glinda's snatch so the huge-breasted Dwarf could impale herself on him, wailing in pleasure as she took him all the way in, until her plump ass was resting against his balls. Mali then proved her value further by reaching forward and grasping Glinda's hips, sliding the dwarf up and down his length. In essence, she was fucking him using Glinda.