Aire Eird Pt. 01

"Better not try it Efliluer," said a female in a singing voice. He stayed where he was observing the Light Elves. They are alive!

"Lady Phanerio, Lady release the air, Lady please release the pressure or we all will die. Lady …Please…"

Phanerio looked up at the blue sky and the splitting sun. Better die here than go back… "Lady…Please." She recognised the voice…turning she regarded the face of King Lorsa.

"Please," he pleaded.

Dragging in a breath, Phan calmed her inner sprit and looked within, to the calm pool that resided within her. However it was not calm, it was like a squall, must release the pressure…

Rain, golden rain. It fell from the heavens. The sky looked like it had been studded in gems as the rain fell unhurriedly, more slowly than normal rain. The sunlight glinted through the suspended water jewels. They chimed like bells as they struck the ground and milling Elves. It soothed, and cleansed raw burns, leaving pink flesh in the wake. The ominous pressure released with each droplet, to that which was before.

The he ring of warriors surrounding the Efliluer stood awestruck, never had they seen anything like it before. Unabashed tears fell from their cat-tipped eyes as the witnessed the working of the Aira Eird - The World Maker.

Aira Eird … they whispered in awe…

Chapter 3

Phanerio woke to a pounding head and a hunger that was crippling. She was always hungry after. Looking around the room she was appointed, she knew where she was! That in itself was a miracle. She had thought King Lorsa a dream. She was back in the Light Elves kingdom, which had resided undiscovered for centuries. Now there as an Efliluer here.

Frowning, getting off the pallet, she walked to the window. So different from where she was born. High dunes surrounded the city. Maje wards glistened like cut diamonds far in the distance, keeping the city safe and hidden. Tall spires of white sand illuminated by maje fire, gave the whole city a soft yellow glow. Elves in fancy gowns and clothes walked the rich gardens sprawling all over the base of the city. It was a good view from the Kings tower. Sighing turning around, she found clothes that were left. Smiling slightly, she donned the black outfit. Tight top, that accentuated her tiny waist, while holding the modest 'girls' in place, it was sleeveless, but had an over jacket cut short to allow rapid movement. The trousers were low cut on her hips, and shaped her behind like a glove. Boots that supported the ankle finished the look. Or almost. Her weapons were back in the City. Giving her waist length hair a run through with her fingers, she looked at herself in a spelled crystal to allow the reflection to be seen…

Heart shaped face, tilted ears of her race, and almond shaped eyes were all that resembled a Dark Elf. Her hazel eyes, auburn hair and smaller stature sang of Light Elf. The two races could not procreate. Each was barren to the other. So it was strange to have a mix, labelled her an outcast in both realms…

Her stomach rumbled – right food!

Some time later she was sitting in the kitchens, the cook making fresh bread, while she devoured everything insight.

Cook laughed, "You were always a good eater." Grinning happily, he went on to make her dessert.

King Lorsa found her here, polishing off another cake slice fit to kill a king!

"Want to tell me what happened?"

Hazel eyes steadily looked at him. "No."

Anger at boiling point (the Light Elves rarely got angry - that was the Darks forte) the King slammed down his palm on the table and shouted at her, "I have a Efliluer under severe watch. Should he even flinch, our warriors will strip him bear. Our peace is in jeopardy as we now have been found and you say no!" Red faced and starting to lost control, Phanerio took another piece of cake.

"It is not your business," stalling further outrage, she held up a hand. "All I will say is it was unavoidable that he is here." Sighing, putting down her fork, she continued, "I did not know. He is dangerous even to himself." Shuddering, shaken, past memories bloomed into sight…

The glade was bare. All that resided within its oak bowers was the life of the forest. Moonlight traced the leaves in silver, while the grasses and flowers became almost transparent. It was time. Dressed in a long white gown, she was left in the middle of the glade. The moon struck red glints in her loose hair and gave the gown a soft glow…she was of age. Every female Eflil of the age underwent the making ceremony. This is where she would be mated by a male, and her fresh blood used to enrich the fertility of the ground. Every Eflil knew it had to be done, lest the forest would reject them. The mate was picked by dreams, nobody knew who mated. They were anonymous. The glade ensured that when they left at the first ray of dawn, they forgot with whom they laid with…

He came through the trees, like a ghost. Silently moving through the glade, he stopped in front of her. Scared to look up, Phan felt his need. The need for a single night to be one with somebody. The need to hold a woman close and bring her to the Creator and back. A long boned finger traced up her bare arm, rising goosebumbs all over her hypersensitive skin, he tilted up her chin to look at her…

Strong ice-blue eyes that could heat or freeze now looked down at her with need hidden in their crystalline depths. Phan was drawn into the blue sea. She was drowning…he was seducing her…long, thick black lashes framed the ice stare, while his hair spiked in the static of the glade. Her own hair and gown seemed to lift with an unseen breeze…

The finger at her chin was replaced by his hand sliding down her neck and collarbone to rest over her wildly beating heart. "You are beautiful." Phan's body shook with the impact of his voice, like warm syrup sliding over her senses. Her body moved into his ever so slightly. "Dance with me." How could one not when her bones melted at his voice?

He gently gathered her into his strong arms, one arm sliding to rest at the back of her waist, while the other took possession of her hand which he tucked into his chest. She moved with him as they danced to the tune of the glade. She was never more aware of his size and strength, the breadth of chest and shoulder, long legs and rippling muscle as he moved. He was taller than her, and as she let her head fall onto his chest, his bowed over hers.

In time, he raised her head with his hand and ran his fingers through her long auburn hair, admiring before closing his palm, cupping her head and bringing her closer for his kiss. The last thing Phan remembered seeing was his fleeting smile and desire in his hot blue eyes that sparked fire in her. As his firm lips settled on hers, she was overcome with sensations. His or her own? They melded and shared desire and feelings. They knew each other instinctively. His kiss became more demanding, pushing his tongue between her own lips, opening hers in response, and thought she had died and flown from the glade. Toe curling, heat spreading he could kill with a kiss. Stretching up, pressing her aching breasts to his chest, she closed her hands behind his neck and held on as he whirled them through space.

And this was only a kiss?

When she regained her dizzy wits, they were lying on the cool grass. He was curled beside her, large shoulders blocking out the moonlight as he leaned in for another kiss. Arching beneath him, locked in the duel of heat and pleasure, she nearly missed his hands removing her gown. Shivering she broke from the kiss and flushed widely, trying to cover her breasts. Hands stopped her and forced them above her head in a death grip. Shocked she looked into his smouldering eyes "You are beautiful, do not cover your beauty." And then he was kissing her, hard and forceful. She could only respond to the heat he poured through her, arching more, begging with her body.

Keeping her hands in one of his, he traced the moonlit flesh with fingers designed to kill, not bring pleasure. Her skin was alabaster and as smooth as silk. He buried his face in her neck inhaling her scent, praying he would remember it tomorrow, he slid down her body, mouth following his marauding hand, bringing a pink flush to her skin and tightening his groin even more…

When he suckled on a nipple, Phan thought she was going to pass out from the sensation of his hot wet mouth on her, while his other hand squeezed the other breast. Dragging in deep breaths, trying not to 'meww' she was awarded with his chuckle against her chest, "Cry out baby, I want to hear your voice." And with that he attacked the other breast relishing her animal sounds.

Her body seemed to be getting tighter and tighter, until he stroked his hand down to her nether parts, then she nearly exploded with sensation. As his fingers traced her slippery folds, she cried out, arching…wanting…then he hit the sensitive spot and all she could see was a starburst of sunlight behind her closed lids, while her body shook and tremors seized her slight frame. He held her close as she spent in his arms. Holding her he stroked down to her lips and slipped in a finger to her heat – she was so hot! – Sliding in a second into her velvet sheath, stretching her tenderly, he waited for her to return to him.

As Phan came back from the stars, she opened her eyes to look directly into his burning blue, now aflame with unspent passion. Fear must have entered hers as her kissed her again and whispered, "I will make this good for you. Do you trust me?" Nibbling his way down her neck, sucking on the tender spot he found, he rolled his hips to let her feel his arousal. "Yes," came the breathless reply.

He moved then and slid his body atop hers, gently taking her legs and positioning them around his hips. Grabbing his engorged shaft he ran the head over and over her sweet folds, until her head was thrashing and hands were fighting to find him. She couldn't take much more, opening golden eyes; she caught his and commanded him to take her. As he leaned over, kissing her, he positioned the large head at her entrance. And pushed in firmly, kissing her harder as she tensed beneath him, drinking in her cry of pain, kissing away the tears as he ripped her open for him. He felt the hot spurt of blood on his cock, it only allowed him to get into her further.

Both panting, buried as far as he could get, Phan felt him tearing her virginity from her, stretching her impossibly, crying in shuddering gasps, she sensed his resolve to go slow and let her adjust. She felt it in the solid locking of his muscles, the overstrain in tendons not to take her hard. Running hands up his flanks to rest on either side of his angular face, turning him to meet her gaze, she spoke for the first time, "I will not break." Smiling she ran her hands over his neck and chest, down to his nipples where she squeezed, relishing in his harsh gasp and the shudder that racked his taught frame.

"As you wish my beautiful." She shuddered as he withdrew, legs tightening against his hips, he plunged back into her liquid heat. Groans blending, heat rising he pushed himself further into her with each stroke sending them higher and higher with each forceful plunge. Her cries added to his arousal, until he swelled even more, pushed harder, further…

The sensation of him thrusting into her tender flesh was something Phan had never thought possible. From the way he held her, to his weight, his groans, his cock as it slid in her sheath, the sensation of his head rubbing her inner walls, the crinkly hair on his chest abrading her nipples, to the devastating mouth demanding response from her was all too much…too much… and she was sent flying from this world with a kneeing cry mingling with his groan as he spent himself inside her…

Does he remember? Doubtful. Only her lack of talent and barriers at the time made it possible for the Glades protection not to take effect. Still she remembered the kiss he gave her as the dawn broke…

Shaking herself from long ago memories, she levelled her hazel stare at the King of Light Elves. "Where is he and the sword?"

"He is within the holding stones, thought it best. Our best weavers are constantly rearranging the pattern, lest he try and take it down. As for the sword, it is missing," the King sighed. Raking thin hands through greying hair, he still only looked a human 45, where his real age would be well over 900 years. He looked tired. Phan's compassion flared as it was wont to do on every occasion! Moving over to him, she laid a hand on his arm. Startled he looked first at the small hand on his sleeve then at the Aira Eird, knew how much it cost her to touch him, even in this way. Phan looked into moss green eyes and let her conscience take over, see what the King saw. The fear of his people. The bloody war started again between the feuding Elves, taking too many lives, the fear of losing his home and his beloved…

Removing her hand, Phan took a shuddering breath, and braced herself against the table. Breath in, breath out, release…release the hold, release the presence, release the fear…

When she was steady again she said, "We will need to secure him. He has his sword somewhere. A search would be useless, he can hide it on his person as a part of his own being."

Startled, the Kings head snapped up from his deep thought in the sunlit kitchen, "How?"

"The sword or the weaving?"

"Both."

"Best answer: he is the sword, he can hide it like a body marking, and release it when needed. As for the weaving?" Phan sighed, "Don't ask how."

"You are a brave lady to take on the leader of the Efliluer."

A wry smile made her look like a child, not the power she was. "Stupid maybe." Smiling she strode from the kitchen, illuminated by the sun, her shadow moved along the wall – not one of a Eflil, but of a protecting spirit granted to her long ago…

Chapter 4

"Where is SHE?" bellowed Captain Jool. Smacking tabletop, sending cutlery and apocathary equipment shattering to the floor, Alex rushed to collect up the remains of Phanerio's delf and still.

"I de'ne know," replied Alex tersely. "She was on y'boat last 'een … Well?" Glaring at the captain, pinning him speechless, he sank into a chair.

Scrubbing his face with his one good hand he elaborated, "She came aboard, cleaned up all the lads and myself, had a few whiskeys, and went home. My first mate walked her, as he thought such a slight girl couldn't defend herself." This brought smiles to both, poor lad, she would eat him for a snack. "He said he left her at her door, 'slammed in the face she did!'" he mimicked the mates' squeaky voice.

"I just bet she did!" Both looked at each other and pealed in laughter. Poor guy! When they had righted themselves, Alex ventured, "She de ne use nay power?"

"Non, normal, mundane healing she did, what with those dark bastards here, couldn't risk it," he took a swig of what was left of the Larient whiskey. Neither was in doubt who had her, and it wasn't over a bottle of illegal drink either.

Frustrated, agitated they could do nothing but keep her blades and sword under wraps.

~~~

Phanerio observed from a safe distance of 2 leagues where the Efliluer was being kept. To weave a lifeforce into a binding spell went against everything she was made off. She did not bind souls, she freed them, healed them, reaffirmed and brought back from the abyss…

Sitting on the grass, the cool dusk settled among the spires of the desert city. A slight fog misted the ground, giving the illusion that everyone glided and was not of this world. *'You could just let him go!'* Yeah like that was going to happen. Slumping on the ground, ear pressed to the grass, she listened for the quickening of the world, the voice of creation that encompassed all living things. Shedding her shell of flesh and bones, Phanerio soared free like a bird, over the city, the desert and beyond…

Alex was wrenched awake by the cold. "In Creators hell, did ye leave da window open?" As she rushed to the window, she was struck by the image of it closed. "Huh!" Turning in a circle she seen from the corner of her eye a spectral image, "PHANERIO!"

The image turned her way. It was Phan, but looking at her was like looking through 3 waterfalls at full breach. Distorted, she saw a hand rise in farewell, not before she seen the glint of a black sword fading from sight.

"Holy Creator."

The commotion had woken Captain Jool, and he was bug eyed looking at her, "What now woman?"

~~~

Distortion was the first thing that happened after a sprit walk. Everything rushed too fast, air going into lungs was too loud, heartbeats were defending…coming back to herself took time, at least now she had her sword.

Swords were important. An Efliluer sword was much like their steeds. They were ingrained with the Name of their Creator, usually an Efliluer. If a sword was broken or used to kill its creator, then their steed would die as they hold the balance of their creation in their hands. Metal and bone, there were ways to kill a Efliluer, all be it a messy and nasty job. And foremost getting the sword.

Phanerio's sword was hers, with her name imprinted, but that was not all. It was a sword given to her already named in her Name before she was born. Who had the foresight to do such mastery? Only one race could have done it…dragons…

As Phanerio came back to herself on the now darkened grass, she traced the signals and runes laid in red, within the black metal. It always made he feel safe with it on her. She was going to need it.

After conferring with the master maje about the strength of force their weavings could take, Phanerio crossed the barrier wall into mortal danger…

He was sitting crossed legged, with loose hands. He looked for all intentional purposes a young Eflil, not the master he was. As Phanerio walked from the distortion in the air, it was all she could no not to collapse from the stresses. The maje were pushing the weave to the up most limits. She just prayed she could act before it collapsed and they all buckled under the backlash.

Walking further in, she realised they had placed him in the centre of the guard stones. *'Humph, well North won't let him out for flattery.'* Stifling a smile, she looked further, to the ring of ancient pines at their backs. Good place to pick, strong world magnetic currents converges in flux points, charging the atmosphere and area at high noon and moon, here in this place it effectively strengthened the weave.

He didn't look up. Not a good sign. *'Humph! Least you could do is say 'hello!' Shut up! Now is not the time for your interference!* Sighing, Phan moved forward, leaving a good distance between, where she then sat and seemed observed the weave…

He did notice her coming through the constraint. It would be a fight to take it down, but why bother. The reason he was here was now sitting across from him, looking at the stupid weave supposed to keep him in. Yeah - right! He couldn't help but notice the fluid grace as she walked and sat. The way her hair moved, the way she tilted her head. The soft breeze brought her fragrance…hands tightening he fought off the memory…

Hands tightening…ok…risking a quick look, he looked murderous. OK! Not going to be good at all. The silence stretched. Even the birds refrained from speaking as the pressure rose…