Elegy for a Star

“Where..?” Tess muttered as her eyes adjusted to the dark room. It had just been so bright a second ago when she… when she was doing what? She felt ill at the thought that she didn’t know what was going on, or where she was. She could tell by the breeze that she was naked. That was… unfortunate, but maybe not what was most important right now. 

She glanced about. A woman with sharp features, black pools for eyes and raven black hair was looking directly at her, horrified. To her left was a warrior, a woman with short, silver hair and heavy, warm clothing. She felt something under her feet and saw a small runic symbol made of powders, with one side of it smeared. There was the sound of rushing wind just outside.

As she looked down, Tess saw the fall of the hair on her head. It must’ve reached about shoulder height, and looked to be a beige color. Oddly, however, and possibly of greater import, Tess could feel an unusual weight between her legs and some warmth against her inner thighs. She couldn’t remember much, but she remembered enough to know that this was new. And with that same glance, after leaning forward enough to peer over her full bust she spotted the culprit. A fat cock hung heavily between her legs, nearly reaching mid thigh. It was smooth and hairless, with a swollen head. “What..” She blurted.

The dark-haired woman pointed at Tess in accusation, “Where is she? What are you?” Tess was about to explain that she wasn’t sure what was going on, when suddenly the silver-haired woman jumped forward and plunged a dagger into the chest of the other lady present. Tess’ eyes went wide, and the dark, assailed woman howled in pain before vanishing into a black mist.

The dagger, bloody, was now redirected toward Tess, and the confused woman put her hands up beside her shoulders, “Wait!” It was embarrassing to think that she was naked and held up by a dagger. Right now, however, it seemed more prudent to keep her hands up, rather than cover up. 

She took an appraisal of the silver-haired woman. She was young and beautiful, with gray eyes and hair that was cut to the nape of her neck, falling messily about her face. She was covered in melting snow. That’s right, Tess thought as a memory dawned on her, I was cold. Had she froze? Was she being revived? The answer eluded her, but the fact that the dark haired woman seemed surprised by her presence didn’t bode well for that theory.

The pretty eyes of her captor were locked onto Tess’ cock. Was she shocked or horrified? Tess wasn’t sure, but she would’ve felt more embarrassed about the exposure if she didn’t notice her observer’s bright, blushing face.

“Who are you?” The silver-haired woman demanded, eyes refocusing on Tess’ face..

“My name’s Tess. And yours?”

The dagger dropped an inch, “Gwendolyn.” Her gray eyes slipped toward the heavy object between Tess’ thighs again.

Tess smiled slightly, realizing just how attractive she found Gwendolyn, especially with that serious, blushing look and the dagger in her hand. She looked dangerous and beautiful and vulnerable all at once. The thought gave Tess a fluttering in her chest. Focus, she thought, You’re in danger, remember?

“I’m not a threat,” Tess insisted, “I just want to get dressed. Do you have clothes?”

Gwen’s eyes flicked away from Tess’ groin and toward the naked woman’s face.  “Only my spares. They’re in my pack, but I don’t know if they’d be getting bloody on you yet. Can’t trust you.” Gwendolyn threatened, raising the dagger once again. Her grip was strong. Her eyes were steel. Tess knew she wouldn’t want to pick a fight with Gwendolyn. And with what, anyway? She was naked, unarmed, and hadn’t a clue as to their whereabouts.

Gwen pushed the topic, “Why were you being summoned, Tess? What’s with the ritual?”

“I don’t know, I swear,” Tess insisted, and as she began to lower a hand to gesture at the powder beneath her, Gwen jabbed the dagger threateningly. Tess’ hand whipped back into position to demonstrate a peaceful, subdued posture. She looked down at the ground, pointing at it with her head, “I just got here. I don’t know what’s going on. All I remember is my name. At least, I think it’s my name.”

Gwendolyn looked suspicious, but her eyes calmed somewhat, “And the ritualist didn’t know who you were.” Gwen lowered the dagger a bit once more, taking a deep, calming breath. “In my pack, large pocket, there’s a white sheet. Wrap yourself in that,” she directed, putting the dagger down and backing up until she could see her broken blade upon the ground.

As Gwen collected her sword, Tess went to the indicated pack and opened it up. She saw a number of things. Among them were some spare clothes, a sleep sack, and a chain necklace with some sort of twisted symbol on it. Which god was that again? Tess couldn’t say. She wasn’t even sure if she used to know. There were a good many of the divine, each with their own particular signature. Tess collected the sheet, rolling it up into her arms as she drew it out of the pack. She left the rest alone, not that she saw anything that was worth stealing in this predicament anyway.

Standing up, she wrapped herself in the sheet, just atop her breasts, down to the mid thigh. It wasn’t the most concealing, but she didn’t expect large linens to be in someone’s traveling pack. She could feel that thick length between her legs pressing against the front of the sheet, bulging it outward.

By the embarrassed look on Gwendolyn’s face, and the way she poorly attempted to redirect her eyes from it, Tess guessed that her captor noticed it just fine, too.

“So, I guess you see it too, huh?” Tess asked with a helpless look toward the ceiling, “Believe me, I’m as confused as you are.”

“See what?” Gwen asked, crouching on a clear part of the floor and sprinkling some twigs and bark in a specific arrangement. She looked to be intentionally not giving Tess her attention.

Tess took a couple steps toward her, to better investigate what she was up to. Gwen didn’t protest, but seemed wary, for one reason or another. There was a flick of her eyes toward Tess. “The addition. You know, between my legs. I didn’t have that before,” Tess explained. Then she gave a sigh and surrendered, “I don’t think I did, anyway.”

“You’re probably a demon,” Gwendolyn explained, taking out some small, white, translucent crystals the size of salt. Unlike salt, they glittered brightly. She sprinkled them atop the bark in a different pattern. “See?” She pointed toward the ritual circle that had brought Tess here, before returning her hand to her own ritual pack, “Those leaves there? They glow.” Tess didn’t quite understand, but in the dark of the room she could better see the glowing plant bits, shredded and sprinkled into the half-smeared pattern of the ruined circle.

“So?” Tess asked, genuinely curious.

“So,” Gwen continued, adding a separate pattern to the top of her own ritual circle, made of some black grain, “Bioluminescent plants are used in rituals pertaining to otherworldly spirits.” The swordswoman snapped her fingers over her own creation, and with a flash of light, a small but warm campfire formed.

While Tess could feel the heat, smell the buttery sandalwood, she could smell no smoke, see no spark, and no matter how close she got, the heat never became unbearable or painful. She looked between the two ritual circles; one working, and the other ruined. They were completely different patterns, completely different reagents, and thus completely different purposes. “What about the rest of it?” She asked Gwen.

“Not sure. That looks like iron powder, but my alchemy isn’t good enough to tell for sure.”

“What’s that for?” Tess followed-up.

“Binding evil.”