By the Chains that Bind Thee (Part 2)

If readers are wondering why the chapter/part count is different here compared to the Haircut Story Site, it’s simply because my very long chapters don’t always fit the character count over there. Here, my chapters can fit in their entirety, without any need for odd splits. Anyways, please enjoy!

-Fantasy Weaver

Warnings: foul language, adult themes. Viewer discretion is advised.

 

~ O ~

By the Chains that Bind Thee

Part 2

~ O ~

 

“Are you ready for your trials?”

Oras always knew exactly what to ask him to make him feel uncomfortable.

Shay sighed, holding his head in his hand, as his eyes stared, unfocused, on his book about divination magic. “I would rather not think about it.”

The tension in his voice didn’t go unnoticed by his friend, who frowned at him. “Something really must be wrong with you. Shay!” he cried, gesturing incredulously at him, “You’re always ready for your trials! You practically can’t even talk because you’re so excited! What’s wrong with you. Are you sick?”

“Oras…” Shay rubbed his eyes, sighing long and hard.

What was he supposed to say? That ever since becoming a learned apprentice and watching that initiation ceremony, he just hasn’t been as convinced in his path as he used to be? That perhaps the words from a certain dark stranger seem to be getting to him, despite his best efforts against them?

He certainly could not mention Eleos, not to Oras, or to anyone else. He was still baffled that the man had let him go, worse still, with a disguised invitation to see him again. Was it disguised? He had said it without any double meaning. If he wanted to talk, he knew where to find him.

What would they speak of? Eleos had challenged him multiple times, asked him if he even knew about Dark Mages, truly, knew of them; not what the Order had taught them, but in truth. Was it truth? Eleos could very well be lying to get into his head, plant seeds of doubt to make him turn against the SunWoven Order. Preposterous, and yet…when he thought about his passage ceremonies, the only three he had left before his initiation as an Elder Mage, fear, anxiety rolled down his spine, a cold, clammy grip that seized him suddenly and violently when he thought back to that poor initiate.

His shock hadn’t faded from memory, even after a month. He knew the initiated mage to be fine, in fact, he tried to avoid crossing his path whenever he could, finding that the contrasting sight of him, his skin healthy and glowing, did nothing to rid Shay of the scarring images of that same skin peeling and welting as a focused beam of sunlight burned away at him.

Whenever he saw his eyes though, the blue seemed so much less vibrant these days, as though he too regretted his decisions, still lived with that terrible memory.

Did he want to end up in that same position, spread, vulnerable, unable to move, unable to protect himself from the very thing he drew magic from?

He closed his eyes, shaking his head as the buzzing began to rear its ugly head. Why is it whenever he begins to doubt his path as a mage of Synn, his head throbs so unpleasantly?

“You have to be sick,” Oras’ concerned voice broke through the ringing in his ears. “You’ve been having headaches for Synn knows how long.”

“Oras, I’m fine!” he finally snapped, glaring daggers at his stunned friend’s face. “I’m just nervous about my trials. You know they only get harder with each tier. Stop being so concerned with mine when you still haven’t passed your own.”

A look of hurt washed over Oras’ features as soon as the words were out.

Blast it. He hadn’t meant to say that. “Oras, I-”

His friend stood from the study desk abruptly, gathering his belongings. “No, no, you’re right. I should focus more on my own studies instead of worrying about my friend.”

Shay couldn’t find it in himself to move from his seat, even when Oras slammed the door of his room.

He placed his head in his hands, a trembling breath shaking his lungs.

XXXXX

He didn’t know why he sought out the wisterias, the flowing creek water, the white trellis and the marble bridge. He didn’t even know why he came in the middle of the night, when in only a few hours, he would need to show up to the trial chamber and show the Elder Mages and the High Mage what he is capable of. A need for answers? For blunt conversation that didn’t cut any corners?

Or was he here hoping that just a fleeting touch from Eleos’ hand would dispel his anxieties, replace them with warmth, craving, for something far less earthly?

Nevertheless, when Shay parted the firefly-strewn wisterias, he found Eleos staring down at the creek between the carved, arched pillars of the bridge, blending into the night as though he himself were made of the shadows.

When those eyes found his darkened blue ones though, they shone against the dark backdrop like the stars themselves had granted them light.

“The little apprentice returns,” he drawled smoothly, his eyes returning to the gurgling creek below.

Shay ignored the title which the man seemed so intent on calling him, carefully walking closer to the archway, petals sticking to his hair as he pushed the flowers aside. “You said I could come here to converse with you.”

“I did say that, didn’t I?”

The teasing tone made the first little flutters of anticipation appear in the young man’s belly. Bravely, he went on, “Well, I’m here now.”

“So you are.”

He didn’t say anything more. Barely even acknowledged him. Annoyed, Shay stepped closer to the man, not daring to get more than a foot from him. “If this is some game-”

“I don’t play games.”

“Then say something, for Synn’s sake!”

Immediately, fiery golden irises pinned him to the spot, causing Shay to petrify. Damn. What had he said wrong? Eleos is the one acting like he hadn’t wanted to speak with him. But then, a low growl came from him, “Do not speak to me of Synn.”

“Why?” he retorted, finding satisfaction in the fact that he found something that seemed to annoy the handsome man, ignoring the buzzing that started to make his ears ring again. “Afraid of a little sunlight?” he taunted.

“You know not what you say,” Eleos whispered harshly, running a hand through his long black locks, the same hand coming to grip Shay’s arm tightly.

“Let go!”

“Enough.”

Long fingers tangled in his hair, pressed on his scalp.

Like lightning, the effect was immediate, and Shay’s eyelids drooped at the sensation. “Oh gods, stop, don’t…”

“Look at me.”

He did then, finding hard gold staring back at him.

“Fight against it.”

Against it? Against what? All he could feel was the touch of Eleos’ hand in his hair, the feelings of lust that presented themselves whenever he did so, and fought against the erection that wanted so dearly to be free of the confines of his robes.

Another sensation though, the headache, the buzzing in his head, the ringing; was that what the other spoke of? It faded to the back of his mind as he lost all sense and squirmed in the man’s light grasp, head tilting if only to get more of that sweet friction on his scalp-

A low, rumbling laugh drifted to his hears, and, against better judgement, he opened his eyes into tiny slits, finding the task of keeping them open to be monumental against the onslaught of sensation coming from his sensitive hair. Amused eyes met his flustered gaze: Eleos was smiling down at him like he found an adorable kitten rubbing up at his calves. “I barely need to touch you, do I?”

He let Shay go, one hand staying at the young’s man’s shoulder to support him. Shay panted, trembling fiercely with unmet desire. “Why…why does it…”

“You really are ignorant, aren’t you?”

He breathed heavily, clutching his chest as his heart beat settled. “It’s not funny, I don’t think this is normal.”

“You’re right.” Blue eyes found knowing gold. “It isn’t.”

He swallowed hard. “I don’t understand” he shook his head.

A pause came from the other, as though he were considering his next words. Shay tried to even his breath, nervousness eating away at him the longer Eleos simply gazed at him.

“What is your name?” he finally asked.

For a moment, the young man considered not giving his real name, but thought better against it. He’s still not entirely certain of how dangerous Eleos is. If he’s at all at the same level as even the lowest ranked Elder Mages, he could easily detect if he’s lying or not. Better not to risk it. “Shay, my name is Shay.”

The man nodded, leaning against the railing. “You’re a learned apprentice, going by the length of your hair.”

“Y-yes.” Shay cocked his head to one side, brows furrowed in confusion. “How…”

But Eleos ignored his unsaid question. How the man knew of his level of knowledge, he could not fathom. Only the mages of the SunWoven order were privy to that information, only they knew how to tell from one’s hair length and color alone, though it is possible for one to deduce such information, should they observe them long enough. Had the man been spying on the Order?

Eleos leaned back against the railing, crossing his arms over his chest as he regarded him carefully. “You seek me out, despite knowing what the Order has told you, and yet you don’t seem to know why.”

Shay felt his cheeks flush at the words. He was right of course. He didn’t know why he was here, just that he somehow felt the need.

The Dark Mage continued, “Tell me this: I asked you if you understood what a Dark Mage is. You never answered me. So…”

He looked at him with expectant golden eyes. “I…” Shay struggled to find the right words, not having thought Eleos would put him on the spot like this. “I know Dark Mages use forms of magic that are generally frowned upon, like blood magic.” Here, the other chuckled, but he let him go on, “And that most don’t become a Dark Mage by choice.”

“Ah,” the other exhaled, “Well, that there is not quite true.”

“How so?”

“The Orders would have you believe Dark Mages have no choice to go down such a path, either because of their nature or some other lie that they fed you. Every person who becomes a Dark Mage has the choice. It’s just that depending on the circumstances, becoming a Dark Mage is the only good choice.”

The young man found it in himself to laugh at such an idea. “A choice between what: life as a Dark Mage or, I don’t know, dying?”

“Between becoming a Dark Mage or being initiated.”

Shay stopped laughing. Eleos was looking at him with all seriousness.

“You confirmed you were a learned apprentice,” the man reminded him, his words slow, deliberate, “I’m sure you know then, what being initiated entails under the SunWoven Order.”

He did. All too well. It still haunted his sleepless nights.

“Wait,” he said, his mind catching up to what Eleos was implying, “You say this as though you know-”

Those golden abysses held his.

After a lengthy, tense pause, Eleos removed himself from the railing. He came to Shay then, and placed a heavy palm on his shoulder as he passed him by. “Perhaps you should find out a little more about your Order before bad-mouthing me.”

Shay turned just as that hand fell from his shoulder, watching, mesmerized as Eleos’ long, raven hair lifted soundlessly around his form, as a golden aura surrounded it in shifting, dazzling tones, the wisterias around him fluttering at the sudden change in air pressure.

Eleos turned back only for a moment, gracing him with a knowing smile.

Just as before, he vanished from sight, leaving Shay alone on the flower-strewn bridge, with more questions than answers to his unending plight.

XXXXX

A scream broke through the ringing in his ears, Shay’s head flicking to the source of the sound.

They had been five learned apprentices gathered in the waiting hall, all nervous about passing their trials, hoping they wouldn’t fail, hoping to become pupils. Three of them had already entered the trail chamber, leaving only himself and one other apprentice, a young woman, to the eerie quiet of the hall.

A quiet that had been broken by the large doors being pushed apart violently, as four Elder Mages escorted the third apprentice out. The boy was holding his face, crying out, where steam came off in plumes.

His hands had angry pustules on them. Who knows what his face looked like underneath. Acid, or poison? Shay thought nervously, swallowing, cringing at the painful wails as the poor apprentice was whisked away. He didn’t pass his trails, unfortunately.

The trials only got harder. Shay knew that. The Order had to make sure a mage was well and truly ready before passing on to the next phase, had to push them to their limits. Anything less than perfect, and they were quickly sent back to study.

“Apprentice Shay.”

He stiffened, eyes going to the Elder Mage at the entrance to the trail chamber. She beckoned him to the doors. “We are ready for your trials.”

It was with mechanical movements that he made his way into the chamber. This wasn’t the first time he had been in here, and it wouldn’t be the last. The large, domed room, like so many in these grand halls, was nothing spectacular at first glance. No windows. Only a viewing balcony suspended high above the marble floor, for the Elder Mages from the Council and the High Mage to watch. Shay knew from experience however, that the walls, the floor and ceiling were lined with impenetrable shields, practically invisible to the naked eye. No magic from an apprentice could destroy any part of the place, not unless he was given something specific meant to be blasted to dust.

One of the Elder Mages above him read the usual paragraph of text explaining how the trial will work. Shay listened half-heartedly, having heard the text many times already. After they all sat to begin the trial, the same mage spoke, “You will start by showing the council two types of conjuration spells: one threatening, and one non-threatening.

Conjuration. Right. For a brief moment, he remembered the apprentice that had been brought out of the trial chamber, recalling the pustules on his hands.

Concentrating, Shay called upon his arcane ability, his hair lifting from his shoulder, glowing faintly in the dim room.

He pulled from that memory, thought back to his training, his mouth incanting ancient words to call upon a sickening haze to gather around himself, to envelop the room in a yellowish-brown smog. In his mind he could almost see the elements which he mixed together, how each molecule twisted and bent to his will, corrupting the still air of the trail chamber.

The High Mage was the one to speak, “You fared far better than your classmate in utilizing that spell.”

So that’s what had happened. The boy hadn’t known how to control the spell and ended up poisoning himself with it. The fool.

A breathed slowly, willing the air to return to normal. When he opened his eyes, the smog had dispersed. He kept his concentration, hair flowing about his head like liquid silk. A non-threatening conjuration now.

He reached for the pouch at his belt, finding a vial he had prepared for such a thing. More spoken words, and he threw the glass vial to the ground, glass shattering, scattering ground substances around his form, hands glowing as he willed the components into forming a circle around him, shaping them into runes which sparkled on the ground around him. Closing his eyes, he concentrated further, thinking of the layout of the trail chamber, thinking of where he would alight.

Cocky, he made his choice, and in an instant, vanished from sight. In his mind, he couldn’t help but think that his technique could still improve. Eleos had no trouble teleporting without the use of components.

No, he shouldn’t think about him. Not right now.

His form materialized in front of the High Mage. The elderly man looked much younger than his age would suggest, yet still had a wizened face and knowing, sapphire-blue eyes. The High Mage wore his hair the longest among the SunWoven order, well over twenty feet of the palest platinum blonde imaginable. Attended always by other Elder Mages, his hair was set in an elaborate style, ornaments hanging from it, small jewels encrusted in the silken strands. Even his long white beard had a ring or two adorning it.

One wispy brow raised at him, but the High Mage smirked. “Teleportation is usually reserved for pupils.”

Shay straightened, finding himself less nervous about his trials. “Is that not what these tests are for? To see if we are ready to be pupils?”

An Elder Mage began to say something – no doubt a comment about how he should address the High Mage – but the wise old man lifted a silencing hand, nodding his head slowly, once. “Let us continue with the trial then, apprentice Shay.”

The council had him do a multitude of tasks, from creating a life-like illusion, changing his facial features, warding against a multitude of elemental forces, using those same forces to create powerful, destructive spells, dissipating different kinds of magic, transforming large objects into small ones and vice-versa, enchanting certain objects, even charming and putting someone to sleep using his arcane ability.

He panted, sweating as the final trial was about to be revealed to him, his body shaking from the exhaustion.

The High Mage stood above him on the balcony, peering down at him with that penetrating gaze.

“Using your knowledge of divination, you will peer into my mind.”

Damn. No wonder they hadn’t tasked him with any divination up to this point. Reading thoughts is not an easy feat, made worse by the fact that this is the High Mage. If he blundered even a little…

But he wants this. He wants to be better, more powerful. To learn more. To become an Elder Mage. He needs to pass this trial if he ever wants to get there.

Fuck, he thought, suddenly aware of the buzzing in his head. It could not have chosen a worse time.

One last push, that’s all he needed. He would deal with these headaches after, he swore, a certain Dark Mage’s handsome features coming to mind at the implications of such an act. For now, he just needed to power through and finish his trial.

Contrary to some Elder Mages, Shay could not simply close his eyes to see into another person’s mind. He needed to focus his spiritual energies to achieve proper penetration. The only viable way he has been able to succeed in – on less guarded minds mind you – is through astral projecting into another person’s body and mind.

Licking his lips, Shay reached into his pouch, fingers curling around the smooth surface of the object he desired.

He could not tell from the floor, but he had the unnerving feeling of eyes watching him intently as he took his polished obsidian stone out. It was by no means any ordinary rock. All minerals have residual arcane energy in them, making crystals and stones popular arcane focuses. In this case, he already uses his hair, but the stone had been modified for a certain one of its uses. He had worked endlessly to make it into a triangular form that perfectly fit between the index and thumb fingers of both his hands when he held them out in front of his face, and had made a perfectly round hole in the middle.

His magic is derived from sunlight, stored in the golden sheen of his hair. The obsidian is black, able to absorb the radiant light, and, with the right amount of concentration and the right words, able to release it in a focused beam. Shay would call upon his radiant astral self and push in through the hole, using it as a gateway to the High Mage’s mind.

His hair shone brighter with the effort he put into using that last bit of energy he had into this divination. It flowed around his head more fervently, his entire body being engulfed in a faint aura the more he concentrated.

He lifted the obsidian to the High Mage’s position above him, eyes staring intently into the hole, seeing the gateway forming in his mind’s eye, seeing it open for him, giving him a path to the old man’s subconscious.

He breathed. Once. The moment he closed his eyes, he was engulfed in light.

When he finally opened them, his astral projection had succeeded. He could see everything in slow motion from the astral plane where his formless body currently resided, turned only momentarily to watch the slow falling of his body to the ground. If he was lucky, by the time this was over, he would be back in his body before his head touched the floor.

He focused on the path the obsidian had opened for him, finding the astral body of the High Mage waiting to be entered. He lifted himself, as though a mote of dust catching in an updraft, and placed his projection in front of the other’s.

He couldn’t simply enter. The path to the man’s mind had been opened, certainly, but the High Mage doesn’t simply let one read his mind. His astral self had arcane locks barring him from entry. He had studied this as well.

His astral self shook, the radiant plane shifting. Fuck, he needed to make this quick. His concentration was failing.

He focused on the locks, seeing ancient words from a tongue long forgotten twisting and turning as he began to unmake them. So many of them, and yet, he knew the High mage had already unlocked most of them for him. An apprentice would never be able to enter his mind otherwise, never mind a full-fledged Mage. Even they would have trouble. The High Mage’s mind is far too important to be broken into nilly-willy. Still, why were there so many locks?

Perhaps you should find out a little more about your Order before bad-mouthing me.

His astral projection was wavering. He became aware of the same buzzing in his head happening here, but it seemed so much more intense, the ringing so much louder. For every lock he unmade, the sound, the blinding pain only doubled. His focus was scattering, his astral self trying in vain to ease the pain, the block out the sound but it was so much worse here, so much more powerful than himself and there’s nothing he could do to stop it.

His radiant vision blurred, trembled violently, with the onslaught. He tried to push past the final lock but could scarcely think anymore. All he was in that moment was being consumed. He was no longer in control of his actions, finding that the locks were being re-made, and faintly, for a brief moment, it was as though there were two astral bodies belonging to the High Mage-

He did the equivalent of closing his eyes, as best as he could in this astral projection.

Eleos’ face came to mind.

The ringing only got louder. The world around was a crumbling, bright mess of gold.

Eleos’ hand in his hair.

The buzzing intensified; it sounded like a scream.

Eleos smiling, his fingers curling at his nape, brushing long digits through his hair, caressing tenderly, caressing lewdly, his own body wanting more, reaching for the sensation that washed over him, made his insides light with burning embers of desire.

I barely need to touch you, do I?

Teasing words. A dazzling, staggering smile that made his knees shake. Those hands tightening in his locks, the promises of a far less innocent touch, if only he would let him.

It was like he was there, holding his weakened astral self to his broad chest, his hands in his hair, pressing on his scalp, his lips to his ears.

Fight against it.

The last of the locks broke, and Shay felt his astral body shaking unstably at the sight before him.

He had successfully entered the old man’s mind, but what he saw could not possibly be what the man had intended for him to see.

He felt as though he were burning. Countless, bright white eyes burning so intensely hot they seemed almost blue. If he had eyes in this formless projection, he was certain he would have blinded himself.

His vision went to his surroundings. The eyes extended down. A flaming ring, no, many of them, formed on this thing’s body, too immense to describe with words. It was unbearably hot.

This place, this thing, fire. Endless, all consuming, a raging inferno the likes of which were only even spoken about in the annals of history, forgotten to time, but anchored within each waking person’s subconscious. This was where nightmares were born and came to die, this is a plane far beyond the astral realm, far beyond comprehension, and Shay feared his mind would break from being so close to it; it felt as though his body – no – his very soul cried out in anguish as unimaginable pain and fear took over.

Panic overtook him. All he could do was stare into those hate-filled, white eyes.

A booming voice broke his concentration, and as his astral body began to shatter, his ears ringing, his mind caught on to the wrathful words:

YOU SHOULD NOT BE HERE.

With a terrible foreboding feeling rising within him, Shay was slammed back into his corporeal body.

Landing roughly on the marble flooring, with barely enough time to cushion his head with his arms, Shay panted, his breaths coming hard and fast, so much so he began to get dizzy. Adrenaline pumped in his veins, sweat dripping from his body copiously as he pushed himself into a sitting position.

Wide, unstable blue eyes found the High Mage’s own surprised sapphire ones.

Even from his position, Shay saw the flash of wrath in them.

He looked down.

The obsidian had turned to ash, still smoking from the heat.

“Apprentice Shay.”

He snapped his head up, fearful irises staring up at the High Mage.

The moment of silence was tense. Instead of anger on his superior’s face, Shay saw a flash of curiosity, and more disconcerting, of cruel intent.

He swallowed, struggling to find his voice. “…Yes?”

The old man leered down at him for a moment more, before turning on his heel and leaving through the balcony doorway.

“Your passage ceremony happens tomorrow morning. Don’t be late.”

XXXXX

“Oras isn’t here.”

“Well, do you know where he is?” Shay asked another novice apprentice, eyeing the large dormitory common room he had once shared with his good friend.

The apprentice shook his head. “I don’t know, Shay. He left what, perhaps two hours ago? He said he’d be back tonight.”

A sigh fell from his lips. “Could you tell him I stopped by? And at the very least, give him this when he returns.”

He handed the apprentice a sealed package, a note attached to the side. “Sure thing.”

Shay left the novice dormitory shortly after, still not knowing whether he was overreacting by giving Oras those talismans.

Something had definitely gone wrong during that divination. Never had he seen something so disturbing, so genuinely terror-inducing. That horror he had seen in the High Mage’s mind…what was that? The High Mage had certainly looked enraged that he had peered into him. What had it said? “You shouldn’t be here”?

He felt nauseous just thinking about it. The cruel twinkle in the old man’s eyes had not made his worries dissipate in the slightest. His frazzled mind reeling, he had made warding talismans by the dozens, keeping some for dispelling magic, some for protection against harm…

Some for harming others.

He didn’t know why, but if something were to happen to him, he wanted to make sure Oras, who had been so worried about him, to be safe. Novices don’t make talismans, far too advanced a craft for their level of knowledge or arcane ability, and even if they could be better, he wanted, needed Oras to have them for his own peace of mind.

Peace of mind he did not yet have. He was starting to draw theories and conclusions about the SunWoven Order he didn’t think he had the mental capacity to handle, uncertain knowledge he could not fathom shouldering alone.

But he couldn’t find the courage to see Eleos. Not yet.

XXXXX

White eyes flashed before his vision.

Shay shook himself from the image. Before him, the High Mage and the Council of Elder Mages were gathered, himself and three other apprentices awaiting their passage ceremony.

He had been called first before the High Mage. Blank-faced, in hopes that his trepidation was left unseen, Shay knelt before the imposing man, waiting for something, a blow to his head, a crushing grip around his windpipe, anything. But nothing of the sort happened. The High Mage performed the passage ceremony as usual.

“You have showed the Council and myself through arduous trials that you bear the necessary knowledge and capabilities to further progress in your acquisition of magic. It is therefore time for you to further be linked to Synn, to further acquire the radiant beauty of the sun to power your arcane potential.”

The High Mage moved aside, standing at Shay’s back. The morning sunlight filtered through the grand window before them, its warm rays washing over his form.

He knew what was coming, having done this many times already. This time, instead of excited anticipation though, all he felt was the twisting knot of dread in his lower belly.

The High Mage’s glowing hand placed itself atop his head.

The searing white eyes manifested in his mind’s eye again, accompanying the sickening buzzing and ringing that threatened to deafen him. He heard his pained moan as soon as the High Mage began chanting, eyes pinching shut as his hands clenched and twitched at his sides. This sensation was new. He had never been subjected to pain during a passage ceremony.

Briefly, something was whispered – or shouted? – in his ears, resonating inside his skull cacophonously. Immediately, his body went lax.

The High Mage’s hand removed itself from his head, and as it did, Shay’s shoulder-length hair began to grow rapidly, and as it did, the young man was aware of his aching cries turning softer, quieter, and he clamped his mouth shut. When his hair grew like this, it always felt so good, even if he didn’t want it to now. His hair reached down, snaking along his back as a golden glow surrounded it. It dipped past his shoulder blades, silken strands flowing along his spine, until finally, they settled at his waist.

A heavy feeling not unfamiliar came from the enchanted growth, but it felt so much more stifling now. Like a weight had been placed on his subconscious.

“May thine mind be filled with Synn’s glory, may thine power grow as the hair atop thine head.”

The High Mage bent down to his level, whispering words only he could hear.

“And pray thy never forget thy path.”

XXXXX

Eyes the same colour as the sky stared back at his solemn features, ripples breaking the surface of the water as Shay gazed down into the pond.

His fingers idly played with the ends of his hair, unused to the lighter color and new length. The golden hue had turned to a perfect blonde, not yellow in the least, yet still far from being platinum.

“You could’ve given me the talismans yourself you know.”

Shay turned around. Oras had appeared behind him, where he sat on an ornate bench in the large garden area. His presence immediately made Shay feel guilty for snapping at him when last they had been together. The memory left a bitter taste on his tongue.

“You were out, and I didn’t want to bother you. Didn’t know if you would see me,” he added under his breath.

His friend sat heavily beside him, ruffling his sandy locks as he usually did when he was thinking too hard. “Listen, just because we had one disagreement doesn’t mean I’m going to hurtle a fireball at you if you get ten feet from me.”

He snorted, smiling despite himself. “Your fireballs are so small, I probably wouldn’t even singe.” He paused, furrowing his brow. “Sorry, that was unkind of me…”

“No, you’re right,” Oras sighed, mouth tilting up in a semblance of a grin. “Compared to you, my magic is mediocre at best. You were being honest when you told me to focus on my studies. I think I needed that.”

“No, no you didn’t,” Shay turned warning eyes to his friend, yet knowing he couldn’t divulge any sensitive information, not about the initiation, not even about the trials and gods forgive, not about Eleos. “You were looking out for me and I said things I shouldn’t have. You don’t need to study as hard as I do. You take your time in everything that you do, but that doesn’t mean you’re less of a mage because of it.”

Oras watched him carefully, his blue eyes conveying nothing, if not forgiveness. Forgiveness he didn’t deserve, the young man thought. “Did you get your head hit during your trials, or are you being nice on purpose?”

He found it in himself to playfully shove his friend. “I mean it. I was an ass and the talismans don’t even make up for that.”

“Yeah, about those,” Oras pulled one out, flipping it in his hand. It was one for dispelling magic. “I’m no expert on talismans or anything, but these are all for protecting, or warding, there’s even one made to harm someone if they get in the talisman’s range. Did you piss someone off? Should I be worried?”

He wouldn’t tell him. Worse yet, he feared he couldn’t tell him, not when the buzzing and ringing began to disturb his thoughts again. He’s starting to sense a pattern, but he would need more time to confirm his suspicions about why he keeps getting these headaches. With what happened during his trials, he suspects these episodes must somehow be linked to his ties with the SunWoven Order.

He still recalls how loud the ringing had been when he unlocked the High Mage’s mind. His darkened blue eyes searched Oras features, briefly wondering if his friend had ever felt the same pain in his skull.

“Nothing to be worried about. Think of them as an apology gift.”

Oras sighed, shaking his head at him. “You know you can talk to me for anything right? We’re friends. Anything. I’m here for you.”

Not in this he isn’t. And Shay would rather die than get him involved. “Of course. I know.”

For a moment, he thought Oras would continue pushing him, but the novice simply moved on to another subject. “So, nice new do. Bet that passage ceremony felt pretty good, huh?”

A shiver of disgust crept up his spine. If only Oras knew.

XXXXX

The night sky was graced with a full moon that night, its silver rays painting the hushed village in cool tones. The stars looked particularly spectacular; with not a cloud in sight, they shone brilliantly, like millions of diamonds on a velvety black firmament.

The fireflies had moved on from the valley, replaced with an annual gathering of native Luna Moths. Due to the high concentration of radiant magic around the towers of the SunWoven Order, fauna and flora alike often had a glow about them caused by the residual arcane energies, making the large moths stunning glow-in-the dark colors, ranging from pale greens, light pinks and soft yellows. A few gathered around the wisteria-strewn bridge, clinging to the hanging flowers as they awaited a possible mate.

Shay found himself drawn to the bridge come nightfall more often than he would care to admit. Safer it may be during the day, he couldn’t help but want to be around Eleos when he is at his most striking.

Except he wasn’t leaning against the trellis or pillars or draped over the archways overlooking the creek. His face fell, and for a moment, something akin to disappointment stabbed at the young man’s heart at the other’s absence.

His eyes caught something on the railing just under an archway. He approached, finding long black material hanging from the marble banister. Something told him he knew who this belonged to. Suddenly paranoid, Shay looked around, finding that he was still very much alone on the bridge. His gaze returned to the cloak.

Swallowing, one hand reached gingerly for the material, fingers lifting the cloak for better inspection. It was fairly light; not something one would wear in the coming colder months. The only reason the wisterias were sticking around was due to the heat generated by the SunWoven Order. The flowering vines here were old enough to have adapted to store that heat. Yet another consequence of the immense arcane power stored in the Order.

His eyes caught a small insignia in the inner layer of the cloak. He lifted the cloth to his face, angling it so the moon could give him just a bit more light…

A black, four-pointed star, lined in gold thread. He didn’t know why he was surprised. Eleos had never truly confirmed if he was a Mage of Stars, but all evidence had pointed to that being the case. Still, to see the symbol on his cloak, it was a lot to take in.

“Do be careful with the cloak. It’s worth more than you know.”

Shay dropped it as soon as those drawling words had floated to his ears. His eyes searched frantically for the source of the voice, still finding himself to be alone.

“Down here little apprentice.”

Down? Shay looked over the railing, at the creek below, finding Eleos to be sitting idly on a large boulder in the middle of the stream. How had he not noticed him before?

When he looked at him though, Eleos did blend in with the nightly surroundings, his dark clothing and hair like shadows under the moonlight. Only his golden eyes were vibrant in the obscurity, shining, glimmering beacons of light.

Shay felt himself heating up at the sight of the man, the moths fluttering silently around his dashing form, less nervous now than when he had arrived, though no less troubled. Eleos had a brow lifted at him, and with the way he smiled that dazzling, knowing smile, Shay had a feeling he was waiting for him to initiate conversation. That’s why he’s here after all. It’s why Eleos waits for him here.

But what he wanted to speak of was nothing to be taken lightly. Doubt ate away at him again. Was this truly what he should be doing?

“I wanted to talk,” he began uncertainly, eyes shifting in trepidation, “with you. Of course with you, why am I here, otherwise?” The last part was said more to himself. He questions himself every time he gives in to the urge to see Eleos, not knowing if it was the right or wrong decision, not with everything that had happened. But he needed to speak with the man, now more than ever.

Eleos smiled wider, golden eyes narrowing. Cat-like; that’s how he would describe the man’s personality. Like now, that look he just gave him; why did he look so pleased? If Shay knew any better, he would think the man would start purring.

The handsome mage lifted himself, beckoning Shay down to the creek. “Come. Let’s have a walk. And bring the cloak while you’re at it, little apprentice.”

His face heated with humiliation. The nerve… He grabbed the cloak a little more roughly than intended.

There was a little path in the long grass by the creek, worn through time by the village residents, children and budding mages. Eleos waited for him there, holding out a hand for his cloak as Shay approached. He hadn’t noticed before from the bridge, but Eleos didn’t have his raven locks completely loose about his shoulders. He knew he shouldn’t take that book on Circles of Dark Magic as seriously as he once did, but it did state Mages of Stars always wore their hair loose. Yet another discrepancy.

The dark strands on top of his head were very loosely braided, wisps falling from it and framing his angular features. The hair on the sides were twisted into tight plaits flush with his head, joining the loose braid into a half-ponytail at the back, the rest hanging over his back, with the exception of two small braids coming from just behind his ears. Little glinting rings of gold were attached to a few of the strands.

Shay thought Eleos looked more striking this way, regal even. It reminded him of the elaborate styles that the Elder Mages and High Mage were prone to wearing.

How long he stared at the other’s hair like this, he didn’t know. They had started walking when he did, yet the other remained quiet as he gathered his thoughts. The more he uncovered about Eleos, the more he began to resemble the mages with whom he grew up.

How did Eleos know so many things about the SunWoven Order, things only a mage like himself, linked to Synn, would know? And if the conclusions he was drawing were somehow correct… What did that make of Eleos?

What did that make him?

He took a deep breath, fingers pushing a stray blonde lock behind his ear, noticing how much they were shaking already.

Eleos finally broke his focus, “You have something on your mind. Out with it, then.”

Was he teasing him again? He decided he would rather not know. His voice was uneven when he started, “Last time, you spoke as though you knew what our initiation is. You,” he breathed, running a hand through his blonde hair in agitation, “You seem like you know of my headaches, and touch m-me…” Here he stopped, his face heating in mortification. Eleos watched him closely, golden eyes conveying nothing. “Somehow, you’re able to banish them with your touch, you tell me to fight against something and I’m starting to-to think I’m going mad because of that, but then I had my trails, and then that thing, it came back at my passage ceremony and I don’t understand anything anymore and damn it, you use your hair as an arcane focus and I don’t even know if I want to go through with my initiation anymore, and, and-”

He was shaking, rambling, but he couldn’t stop, everything came out, without filter.

A silencing finger pressed to his lips, but it didn’t help in any way to calm him, if anything, it only made him feel so much worse, so much more stressed, and couldn’t stop the little sound of distress that left his lips then, no matter how hard he tried. He frowned, lips trembling as every accumulated bit of anxiety burst free, as every event that had happened pressed down on him.

He felt like he was suffocating. His eyes began to water, Eleos’ worried face distorting as his tears began to overflow.

When a sob ripped from his throat, Eleos slid his hand to his nape, and Shay could do nothing but allow himself to be pulled to that broad chest as the other shushed him quietly.

Eleos placed his chin on top of his head, Shay noticed in the back of his mind, had wound his other arm around his waist. He held him close like that, allowing the young man to cry into his neck.

“You’re alright, little apprentice.”

He only cried harder, pressing a hand to his open mouth, eyes burning with the force at which he kept them closed. “No, I’m not! I can’t even go a day without hearing that incessant ringing, I can’t even sleep anymore because I’m afraid that something is going to h-happen to me, and I can’t even look at my friend anymore without feeling guilty for hiding everything from him! I don’t want him to become like me! I don’t want him to get to this point, and I-I don’t know what to do anymore! I feel like my life is crumbling around me, and the only time I feel normal anymore is when I’m talking with a Dark Mage!”

He sobbed harder than he ever had in his life, uncaring for the words he had just spouted off. Not even the constant rubbing of Eleos’ hand on his back was helping him. Nothing was.

“Look at me.”

Oh gods, not again. Not now. No more of this terrible buzzing, the fuzz, the cobwebs the ringing that threatened to make him loose his mind, not the heaviness in his head, like chains were wound around his body, this stifling presence that he couldn’t shake off that had only gotten worse since he had noticed it. Not AGAIN. NO MORE.

His hands grabbed fistfuls of his hair as he shook it from side to side, body trembling something fierce as he screamed.

A hard, hot hand clamped over his mouth, muting his cries. “Forgive me, Shay, I know it hurts, I know it’s maddening, but you’re being a little too loud right now” Eleos whispered as he ushered – pulled – him away from the creek, further into the forest surrounding the village at the foot of the mountain.

He struggled half-heartedly, head still vibrating with noise so strident he though his eardrums would shatter at any second. He could barely hear Eleos speaking to him, nor the muffled sounds emitting from his own throat.

When the Dark Mage finally let him go, Shay immediately tried to run away, wailing until his throat was raw, but a steely hand grabbed his arms and manhandled him until Eleos had him against his torso again, one hand keeping his own pinned to his back.

He had to get away. He didn’t know why, but something told him to run, to struggle and scream and not allow himself to be so close to Eleos.

What had that command been during his passage ceremony? That whisper that had flowed through his mind and made his body go numb?

Obey.

He needed to obey. He needed to run because that’s what it wanted right now. It’s what HE wanted right now-

“His influence on you is much more potent than last time,” Shay heard Eleos growl, but the words didn’t register in his overtaxed mind. Only getting away mattered.

He screamed again, twisting his body against Eleos’ unyielding grip.

“Fuck, just-” Eleos struggled to maintain his grip, but finally, he got Shay in a good position, “-Synn be damned, enough!”

His hand buried itself in his hair.

Shay’s scream dwindled, lost his voice to the press of that hand. His eyes, which had been wide, panicked, suddenly turned into slits, eyelids growing heavy with a stronger sensation that began to override the headache, that silenced the ringing. “No…” he meekly protested, barely fighting against Eleos’ grip anymore.

Low, strict yet calming words fluttered over his ear, “Stop. This isn’t you. He cannot control you if you don’t give in. Don’t let his fearmongering take over your mind when it’s not his to have.”

“Let go…” But the comforting sensation of Eleos’ presence, his hand pressing against his scalp, soothing away the terrible ache, it began to make him see clear. This isn’t him. He wants this; not to run away, he wants to speak with Eleos, he wants to be with him, he wants him…

He wants…him?

His blue eyes began to focus on their surroundings; Eleos had brought him into a grove far from the village, far from the creek, far from watching eyes. The moonlight filtered through the boughs of the willow trees, silvery rays catching on dewdrops and the colorful wings of Luna Moths.

“That’s right, just calm down…” Eleos spoke softly, and Shay became aware of how hard they were both breathing. His heart rate had slowed only somewhat, it’s cantering no longer the product of pain and fear but of their proximity to one another, of the deep feelings of care he could feel rolling off the Dark Mage.

After a few moments, Eleos finally let go of his hands, and had removed his own from Shay’s hair.

Shay took a deep breath, made one step, and found his legs were shaking so much he couldn’t stand. A gasp left his lips when he fell, stumbling backwards into Eleos. The man released a surprised grunt before they fell on their backs, the handsome mage’s arms loosely wrapped around the other’s midriff.

“Eleos…”

The man hissed as he had them sit, backing them up against the large trunk of the willow, Shay between his legs. “It’s alright, I shouldn’t have let you go so suddenly-”

“Don’t stop.”

Shay had his head leaning against the man’s left shoulder, face tilted up to stare into those beautiful golden irises. His own blue ones were red-rimmed, eyelids nearly closed as more than fatigue took over. Eleos’ face contorted in confusion at his sudden demand. “What?”

Mortification forgotten, Shay was consumed by a need much stronger than flying back to the Order, and when he could feel his ears begin to ring again, his plea turned more urgent, “Please, please, don’t stop- my hair, don’t stop, it’s coming again I can’t-”

Understanding washed over those angular features, and soon, Eleos had his left hand tangled in his hair again.

“Oh gods…” he felt like crying again over how good that felt. This was him again, not whatever was making those headaches.

The man’s deep breathing lulled him as the other released a quiet, strained laugh, “Your will must be made of iron to resist Synn’s control.”

“Synn’s…what?” Shay blinked a few times, body shivering as Eleos’ digits scraped lightly against his scalp. His focus was a fleeting thing, but he wouldn’t give in to his bodily needs, not yet, not when the other was saying such grave things. “What are you talking about?”

“Shay,” he spoke gravely, arm tightening around his waist, “What happened during your trials? Your passage ceremony?”

He didn’t want to think about it, it scared him to even consider it, but Eleos was here, he had his hand in his hair, and against everything he had been taught, Shay found the man to be a protective, safe presence, and he wanted nothing more than to confide in him.

So, he did, his voice cracking at the memories, “I had to…I had to read the High Mage’s mind as my last trial. I-” he swallowed, “I astral projected into his body, but there were so many locks, and I started having the same headache while in the astral plane but it was so much worse, and at some point, it felt like there were two projections of the High Mage, but then I…”

He looked at Eleos, golden eyes filled with unimaginable sadness and knowledge. It’s as though he knew what this meant.

“I thought of you.” There, he said it, his heart heavy with emotion, “I thought of how you helped me get rid of the headaches, and I was able to open the last lock but all I saw were eyes and fire and it was so hot I thought I was going to burn.” He felt his eyes water. The Dark Mage’s other hand lifted from his waist, came to gently wipe the stray tear away. “The High Mage looked so furious at me, and when my passage ceremony came, I saw that thing again, and it had never been so painful before.” He searched those golden abysses, imploring, “I don’t know what it means.”

A beat of silence came from Eleos. “Eyes…white eyes?”

“Yes. How did you…?”

He feared he already knew the answer, but when Eleos said it himself, when he heard the words he had been dreading to hear since the last time they had spoken, spoken by the Dark Mage, it still shook him to his very core. “Shay, I was a SunWoven Mage. Just like you. That is, before I left,” Eleos shifted his eyes away from his, lips thinning in displeasure.

“Why?” he found himself asking, pleading eyes trying to look into those downturned golden ones, “Why did you leave?”

An amused sigh left the handsome mage’s lips as he shook his head at him, raven hair shaking loose from his shoulder, “You have all the pieces and yet you still act like you don’t see the whole image.”

What if he didn’t want to? What if he wanted to live in blissful ignorance, go back to being a clueless fledgling who simply followed the Order blindly? It hadn’t been a bad existence, he had enjoyed himself at times, even when studying the arcane so much his head hurt. The only thing he had ever known was crumbling around him and try as he might to piece it back together, the parts no longer fit, the image had shifted, and all he saw was burning apprentices and wrathful eyes that haunted his every waking hour.

But he couldn’t live in denial anymore. Even when a part of him still cried at him to not listen to Eleos, that he’s a Dark Mage, that Dark Mages do nothing if not manipulate others because that’s what he had always been told, he couldn’t help but follow his instincts, and they told a different story. They told of a person much like him, with emotions and a story worth being told, worth being taken into consideration. When he looked at Eleos, he didn’t see a liar, a manipulator, a villain; he saw a kindred spirit.

Maybe that’s why it was so hard for him to accept that Synn was a monster.

That’s what that thing was, wasn’t it? The embodiment of the sun, which he had only ever thought of as a benevolent, kind god that brought warmth and sunlight to their planet…Was that all fake? A terrible lie the Order was feeding him?

“It’s Synn, isn’t it? That’s what I saw?” He asked, eyes closing as yet more tears flooded his vision. Eleos said nothing, and at his silence, Shay pleaded, “Please, I need to know.”

“…Yes.”

He breathed unsteadily. “You’ve seen him before?”

“All SunWoven Mages see him eventually. Usually, a vision of Synn comes during the initiation, but…” Eleos watched him, fingers tracing soothing patterns on his scalp, “Sometimes, more powerful mages glimpse him early on.”

More powerful mages? “But I’m just a pupil, I’m not-”

“A mage’s true potential comes from within. Not from passage ceremonies, not from a better arcane focus. Unlocking that potential is different for everyone. You must have found something within yourself that is able to overpower Synn’s influence which keeps you mages from developing your true abilities.”

Something within himself?

He gazed long and hard at Eleos’ features.

Is his need for proximity with Eleos what had overpowered Synn? The will to push through the pain, in hopes of a reward? In the form of Eleos?

“Whatever it is,” the Dark Mage was saying now, “Keep focusing on that. It will ward some of Synn’s grasp on your psyche.” The man lifted his blonde hair then, and Shay wondered what he was thinking. “I say that, but I do hope you’ll reconsider trying to continue with these passage ceremonies.”

“Why?” What was so important-

“What do the passage ceremonies do, Shay?” Eleos said, serious, letting the hair slip from his grasp, before burying his hand at his nape, “What is their significance?”

“They…” he blinked, shaking his head. He could barely concentrate when Eleos kept playing in his hair like that… “They allow us to get a deeper link with Synn by growing out our hair.”

It was as he said it that his eyes widened in realization.

“And the more your hair grows…?”

Shay shook in uncontained fear. “The more powerful the link.” He had only been reinforcing Synn’s presence in his mind through those blasted ceremonies.

Eleos lightly pulled the hair in his hand, the young mage’s scalp lifting from his skull. A small sound came from his throat. “I see the hair as less of a link…it’s more like chains. Shackles on your mind, to prevent you from gaining your full potential, to make sure Synn doesn’t loose control of you.”

Chains. A weight on his mind. No wonder he always felt like his body was so heavy after each passage ceremony. Was that also a testament to Synn’s power over him?

A strained moan came from his open lips; Eleos’ hand had raked up from his nape to his crown in one delectable motion. Goosebumps littered his skin under his robes, raising the hair on his arms. Gods, why did it feel so good?

The last of his remaining self-control was slipping, but something bugged him, and he needed to ask Eleos before he was overcome with his body’s heat. “Why- how are you able to get rid of the headaches with just your touch?”

The man raised a brow at him, one corner of his lips turning up in an amused, yet curious simper. “I’m not doing anything, little apprentice. I’m only touching your hair.”

“You-you have to be doing something, this isn’t…” Words. He could scarcely string them together anymore.

A firmer press of those fingers along his scalp had him squirming in delight, against his best efforts. A chuckle came from the other at his antics. “Most mages of the SunWoven Order are more sensitive to touch on their hair and scalp – I myself was – but you’re quite a bit more attuned to touch than others. You must have deep ties with your hair, more than most I would assume.”

Did he? They had always been told that their hair is sacred, something not meant to be handled by anyone other than themselves or attendees of the Order, trusted people who knew the intricacies of their magical focus. They were taught to cherish their hair, to care for it more thoroughly than any other part of their body. Washing, anointing, brushing, combing, plaiting, styling, adorning with jewelry- all these things were of the utmost importance to them, and Shay had always derived some pleasure from the tedious tasks. Not the bodily pleasure he felt now; it was pride that swelled within him when he sat at his vanity and delicately untangled his hair, it was joy that he was becoming a better mage.

When Eleos had touched him that first time…when he had felt pleasure far different than what he had experienced before, he became increasingly aware of all the times before when he had sat too long at the vanity and began to pant as he brushed his hair, when people would brush past him and his hair would shift and cause his body to heat up. He had felt this pleasure before, in small doses throughout his life, and Eleos had awakened it fully.

“I…” another scrape of digits along his scalp had him whimpering, hands blindly grabbing the handsome mage’s arm still wrapped around his midriff. He closed his eyes, shamelessly burying his face in Eleos’ warm neck. “Oh, sweet heavens, please…”

“Please?” The other laughed briefly, seemingly delighting in the young man’s situation. “Please what? I’m only playing with your hair.”

His pride be damned; he wanted Eleos to do something more, and there was no way Shay was letting him disappear without getting his needs, his screaming needs, met. The worst that could happen is Eleos denying him, and if that were the case, he would deal with the situation if and when it happened, but he would rather burn than let this opportunity pass.

“It feels so good…” his face flushed in embarrassment when he felt his shaft begin to harden under his robes. “Please, I need…”

Eleos’ golden eyes watched the writhing young man, gaze finding the telltale tenting of the white robes. “Well now, I’ve never seen something quite like this before” he murmured in fascination, only worsening Shay’s already apparent mortification. The man’s fingers only continued their ministrations, more confidently, as Eleos leaned his head against Shay’s. “Is my touch that stimulating, or is it that your hair is just that sensitive? Perhaps a bit of both?” he teased.

When his hair was gripped tightly and pulled, just once, he shamed himself with a high-pitched moan. “Ele…Eleos, I- mercy…” he couldn’t think straight anymore, not when the Dark Mage’s hand had moved from his waist, not when it pressed along his heaving body down so very, very close to his aching appendage.

With a whine, Shay spread his legs apart, a silent demand to please, for the love of all that is good in this world, touch.

But the man stayed there, just barely close enough, leaving him hanging in desperation and unmet need. Impatience clawed at the young man, had him writhing against Eleos in hopes of getting that hand just a little closer. When it became apparent that Eleos had no intention of moving, Shay growled in frustration; his own hands would do the job if the other wouldn’t-

A sudden resistance met his arms, stopping his hands from reaching his ever-growing erection. He snapped his eyes open, spotting the problem immediately: strings of twilight colors had wrapped around his arms, preventing him from moving them beyond his waist.

He cast a pleading look to Eleos, but his face fell at the sight of the man.

He had always seen the other’s magic in the same golden glow that consumed him when he did magic, but the glow was different now; his hair flowed around him like a night sky, sparkling with shifting tones of deep purple, blues, greens and spotted with specks of silver, as though the galaxies themselves were a part of him. His eyes were no longer gold – they shone as beautifully as the moon, and Eleos watched him tenderly with those mesmerizing irises, smiling lightly.

“Patience, and I will give you what you seek.”

He was stunned for only a moment before he whined again, teeth clenching tightly with the effort to not cry out in anger at the man. How dare he make him wait; how dare he keep his hands away-

He sucked in a hissing breath, trembling when Eleos began to pull his robes apart. He revealed his stomach first, fingers grazing his sensitized skin, causing Shay to twitch at the light touch. Eleos didn’t cease his ministrations on his scalp either, no, quite the contrary: his hands were more assertive, fingers brushing his hair back from his forehead to his nape, finding the places which cause Shay the most pleasure.

When the handsome mage began to push back at his loose trousers, where the outline of his erection was obscenely apparent, Shay found it increasingly hard to keep himself from begging the man, “Oh please, please, Eleos, I need this, please-”

“Hush, little apprentice,” Eleos whispered in his ear, smirking as the young mage trembled in barely repressed want, “you beg so beautifully…but good things come to those who wait.”

He made his point clear by removing his hand from his trousers, instead coming to tangle it with the other in Shay’s blonde locks, laughing as the young man moaned loudly. Gods, if this continued, Shay believed he would die out of sheer desperation and anticipation alone without ever getting what he so desired right now.

Finally, though, Eleos brought his right hand back to his trousers and unceremoniously brought them down, as much as he could in their current position, and when he did, Shay released a low groan, eyes closing as he tilted his head further into the hand at his scalp. Yes. Finally.

“Goodness, so eager,” Eleos smiled, his long fingers brushing against the smooth skin just above his shaft. A hum came from him. “I always forget that SunWoven Mages are nude down here.”

What did he mean nude? Shay blushed further as he somehow managed to ask, “What are you- mhm – talking about? Everyone-”

“Despite Synn’s rather monstruous form, he reviles anything deemed less than beautiful. Your genital area would usually be hairy, but that’s not a part of Synn’s beauty standards.”

The thought of having hair around his shaft reviled him and made him curious in equal measure. Was Eleos by any chance…No, no he wouldn’t think about that, not when Eleos was winding his fingers around his base.

His hips bucked of their own accord, desperate for some form of friction. He had been waiting for so long already, he needed to be touched. The Dark Mage was pressing at his crown, fingers scraping along his scalp in tantalizing motions as he began to move his other hand in pumping motions along the length of his sensitive member. He moaned, eyes closing again.

But all too soon Eleos had removed his hand, and Shay sent him a pleading, questioning look. A glow came from his hand then.

“Let’s see how much better this feels on you.”

Shay opened his eyes blearily, just in time to see the man’s magic accumulate in his palm and the glow dissipate. What was left was an odd substance, not unlike the oil Shay would use to satisfy himself when he could no longer fight the sensation. But this looked thicker in a way, more viscous…

Decidedly, when Eleos placed that slicked hand on him, Shay enjoyed it far better than any ordinary oil.

A guttural groan ripped from his throat as Eleos began a steady rhythm on him, that slick substance aiding the motion terribly, so much so, Shay thought he might come undone right then and there, but he held off, how, he did not know, but he did, if only so he could relish in the ministrations just a little longer.

Eleos didn’t confine himself to simply stroking his shaft, no, his hand would venture down and lightly tug at his tightening sac, causing Shay to bite his lips against every little sound that wanted to escape him. He couldn’t keep quiet though, when those long fingers came to press just under his pouch, in that warm spot he seldom gave attention. But the handsome mage devoted much time to this area, so much so, Shay began to see stars in his vision, before he would go back to running his fist along his member.

His knees bent, shook, his body growing rigid with every overwhelming sensation, from the pumping of Eleos’s hand on his shaft to the delicious feel of his other hand massaging his head, pulling at his roots, brushing through his locks.

By the gods, he could barely stand it. He made noises the likes of which he never had in his life. His torso came off Eleos’ own, his head lolling forward, mouth open, as sensation took over, never realizing that the Dark Mage was struggling to hold him back with the magic-infused strings at his arms, was following his movements so as to never let go of his head.

“You’re shaking so much, little apprentice. How does it feel?” The man smirked against his ear as he whispered those salacious words, his breath coming hotter and heavier. Was he enjoying himself as well? Shay could feel a distinct pressure on his backside, no doubt caused by Eleos’ own unmet need.

How did it feel? Was the man blind to his body’s reaction? Or was he playing, teasing him like he so often does?

“Mh- oh Gods! Please, I’m so-”

“That’s right, tell me when you’re about to burst so I can watch you fall apart.”

Fuck. How could his words make his body light up so intensely? His low, commanding voice, rumbling through his core, had his head spinning wildly and his hand, speeding up and twisting over the head of his appendage was making his entire body quake, his legs twitch and move against his will.

The man ran his demanding digits up from his nape to his crown, grabbed him suddenly, and pulled his head back.

Wide blue eyes found shining, lustful, glowing silver abysses, before Eleos crashed his lips to his, swallowing his moan.

He came instantly, hands blindly finding Eleos’ hair, not noticing the spell on his arms had dissipated, and pulled the man to him, hips writhing as Eleos kept rubbing his sensitized organ, the slick of his seed mixing with the slippery substance used to pleasure him.

XXXXX

TBC

Comments are appreciated.