Forging a Staff
I woke up to see Iris with her back turned to me. My breath caught and my cheeks burned. My eyes slyly crawled up her bare back to her broad shoulders. There was something alluring about catching a secretive peek of her stimulating skin. Yet, the guilt at creeping on her fouled the moment bittersweet.
She drew a comb through her auburn hair, her thick back muscles rippled as her shoulder blade met. A labourer’s muscles grown from the burdens of mediaeval life. The type of physical work, a caller at a call centre like me wouldn’t know.
She tilted her to face me, her body half turned to face towards me. Brown, doe like, eyes stared into mine. She drew the comb through her hair again. My gaze flickered to her heavy breasts then to her pink nipples before returning to her face.
“I didn’t…”
“I know, silly.” She murmured sweetly.
I blinked.
“For a big, bad sorcerer you know very little.” She teased.
She pulled her dress up and put on her cape.
“Can you hold my hand? I want you to use your magic again. Feel me.” She asked
I blinked again and took a few moments to process her request. “Umm…sure.”
I reached out and took her hand, she clasped her fingers with mine. I felt her, the warmth of her hand, the rough calluses on her fingers, the iron flowing through her blood vessels and more. I shifted to the magic artistry that had altered her body. I noticed how her body was pulling on my mana like adding a new stream to a pool of water. I could see her mana pool expanding gradually even from the restrictive flow of magic I was using to observe her.
She leaned against me breathlessly. Her neck lolled back across my shoulder, her cheek caressing mine with her auburn hair tickling my ear. Her every touch and breath ensnared my senses and held me close. My lust-struck brain managed the addled thought that this is what it feels like to be seduced.
“Can you let go?” she pleaded, panting and gazing at me keenly.
I let go of her hand, surprised at her intense reaction.
“It feels good, when you do that, really good.” She moaned. “You have so much magic. In a day you have more mana than I could have in my life.” Her face was bright red, and her eyes were lit with arousal as she panted and her lips parted. The buxom brunette’s bosom pressed on my chest enticingly.
I took a shaky breath to try and calm down, but my hand shook regardless, “Is this like a drug to you?” I said with a parched mouth.
“Something like that, yes.” She admitted. “I pleaded to my patron to send help. She sent a powerful sorcerer easily her equal. What was your price?”
I gulped, “Aisling saved me from a difficult situation, and she asked if I could help you. That is all I know.” I hugged her. It felt like the right thing to do. “I’m sure she would have come herself if she could. But I promised I would protect you.” I told her gently.
She snuggled into my arms, “Thank you for telling me.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry for all the questions but you are too good to be true. Kind and powerful.” her eyes darted away. “And cute.” She somehow grew an even deeper shade of red. “And bound to protect me against the world. I expected a dire wolf or a unicorn. My gift was Damian of the Greys. You are much more special and you don’t even see it.”
“I am just me. Is that enough?”
She shifted round straddling my hips with her hands wrapped round my neck. Her dizzying scent of jasmine and rose sent me spiralling. My brain froze, I looked everywhere and nowhere. She pulled me close and kissed me. I tasted the soft pressing of sweet berries. My heart started pounding loud enough I thought my ears would burst. I felt my chest swell with joy and a grin awkwardly break out during the kiss.
Then she pulled away. “Keep resting, Slánaitheoir.” Then she rushed out of the wagon. I heard her Robin tweet loudly and saw it nestled on her shoulder before the canvas blocked them from sight.
I sat there dumbly with a wide grin. I was more a goof than a player basking in the afterglow of a woman’s affections.
I picked up my new staff. I remembered the old myth from China of a Monkey King. That seemed a bit too tricky of an enchantment. Where would all the metal come and go? I thought of flying swords and in Europe tales of witches riding brooms. I believed I could fly using the staff. In fact, if I was wearing metal, I could levitate from it. The metal of the staff was of poor quality, but it had something of a symbolic significance as my victory prize.
I began working on a multi-enchanted tool. I altered the top, into the shape of a thick orb and shades of dark blue. Inside, I birthed a storm and there remained a swirling, violent tempest. Lighting sparked and crackled in the orb. I enchanted it to function as a taser or be used as a club. In the future, it could work as a simple power source. If the orb was shattered the full force of lightning and wind would be unleashed to devastating destruction.
The bottom base of the staff now would have a small retractable needle point and was weighed at the butt for balance. I kept a part of the goblin metals in the internal core as a memento, but replaced the majority superior alloys. I lifted the staff, but barely raised it an inch. I slimmed it down to an inch diameter, next I reduced the height to six feet and carved in grips points. Better.
A small smile carved across my lips. Winning a battle with magic had been exhilarating, but getting to practise and create with magic was special. I wonder if this is how writers feel typing their words? Or artists with their paint brushes? Perhaps it was more like science? It was pleasure whatever this new feeling was concreting on magic and playing with it.
I wasn’t done yet, there was nothing like a good defence before facing down deadly monsters. I tinkered with enchanting a ring to encase me in mana, but I got stuck on how to activate it and on streamlining a bubble. I quickly became bored and frustrated with how difficult it was to design. I left it as an on/off switch and a large spherical ball. A useful backup in case of an emergency. I slipped the ring on my finger, and I stepped out of the wagon for some air.