The Malvinorian Chronicles Ep. 01

Episode 1: The traveler and the hunter

The land Malvinor is dry and mostly covered with rocky lands and deserts. But in the north, where the wide meandering Daryn demarcate the border with the Elven Kingdom, lie vast forests. A stranger had made his camp in an open spot in the forest on a hill overlooking a wide bend of the giant river. Near the delta the Daryn is tens of meters wide. The man peered over the dark, sparkling water, which itself reflects the twin moon, and chewed on a piece of dried meat. He wore a sword, but the clumsiness with which he held the weapon, betrayed that he was not a warrior. However, he grasped it tightly and turned instinctively -- his back to the river -- when the breaking of a few dry branches startled him. The approaching visitor made no attempt to conceal his arrival, and so either he had bad intentions or he was very confident. In both cases, resistance was probably futile.

The man who emerged from the forest was tall and slim, with a fair skin that is characteristic of the mixed races along the border with the realm of the Elves. He held his hands up to show he was unarmed, though on his back was a hunting bow.

"Peace". The voice of the hunter was quiet, but firm, which radiating throughout his body posture. "Am I welcome?"

The stranger nodded and lowered his sword. The hunter knelt down smiling at the offered seat next to the fire.

"An inappropriate hour to find companionship, sir. You may well be seen as a bandit."

"My apologies. I was looking for a place to sleep when I saw your fire burning. A man who travels the Darinian Forests without company seldom has bad intentions."

"That also applies to you?"

The hunter nodded.

"Arlin."

"Kilnor."

"You had a good hunt?"

The hunter smiled. "I was lucky enough to cross the path of some hares. They were unlucky to cross mine. Please allow me the honor to share this meal with you."

Arlin knew the border region customs and nodded. He dug out a bottle of wine from his knapsack and shows it to the hunter. "I'm afraid I've just a jug of sour Marodian wine with me."

"More than enough," smiled the hunter while he began the skinning of one of his hares. "I had long no wine."

The traveler poured two cups of wine, while the hunter went on with his work and stripped the hare of his skin and muscles. "Arlin is a norse name, yet you have the appearance of a southerner."

The traveler nodded. "My grandmother was an adventurous woman who let her heart beconquered by a Malvinorian soldier during the difficult years after the Retribution Wars."

The hunter, while hitting the cup of the traveler with his, smiled again. "Like many love stories that went wrong. Undoubtly, you are aware of the fact that since the war in the north the Malvorians aren't very popular here. Probably your quest for the roots of your birth brought you to Malvinor?"

The passenger frowned and was silent. He peered across the river, to a point invisible for the hunter, and sipped his wine.

"Forgive me, but you rather looks like a man of the word, then one of the sword". The hunter insisted.

"I'm bad at hiding my true intentions, I'm afraid. Though I'm not looking for the origin of my mediterranean blood." He kept staring out of sight and filled his cup again, after which he gave the jar to the hunter.

The hunter accepted it, but kept silent, waiting for the story of the traveler.

"I'm a chronicler. Writer at the court of the Elven Council. Not a bad one, but not a particularly good one too. The gift to hide things is my property, but not the skill to conceal what they want to hear. The Council has decided to send me south, to get around and describe the Malvinor command."

"I did not know that the elves were interested in the everyday worries in the human kingdom."

The hunter immediately regretted that he had interrupted the man.

"Make no mistake," the traveler replied without batting an eyelid. "The elves seems to judge worldly facts beneath their dignity, but they do have their attention. That's why they want their human servants to study them."

The traveler saw how the hunter looked up, but did not dare to ask the following question, which undoubtedly burned on his lips. Perhaps the man had some interest in a chat, maybe he was genuinely interested or -- the least pleasant possibility -- acted as a spy for the Malvinorian Court. And then he had to be careful. "Is hunting here sufficient to satisfy your needs?"

The hunter speared the skinned hare and started to roast it over the fire. The on daytime so boisterous forest was quiet, and the crackle of the fire was the only sound that came along with their two voices. "The forest is rich. It gives us everything we need."

"Us? You have a family?"

"Wife and two children." The voice of the hunter had a gloomy undertone. Arlin felt he had touched a painful subject and said nothing. The two men peered into the fire. The hare, which was turned slowly by the hunter, turned brown and fat began to drip into the flames. Ultimately it was the hunter himself who broke the silence.

"With us, I actually was referring to the people in the villages on the edge of the forest. The balance of nature is instilled in our childhood."

"In Elvinar we are told that the forest dwellers tend do idolatry."

"What do they mean?"

"That you made the Mother a goddess, and in addition to it have created other gods. I suspect your empress doesn't like that."

"The capital is far away."

The hunter raised the hare when a flame came shooting up and wriggled the animal around. "As long as we pay our taxes, she has no reason not to appreciate us, I think. The forest gives us food, but it is also dangerous. You should respect it. The elves know that too."

Arlin nodded. "But they do not like gods."

''Our gods don't harm them."

The hunter raised the roasted hare, shining with meat juices, from the fire and offered it to the traveler. "Here. Please. A gift from the forest gods."

Both men laughed. They divided the meat and ate and drank in silence, while the dark forest encircled them.

***

The next morning the traveler was awakened by the warmth of the sun. He swore. He quickly threw his blanket from him and sprung up, ignoring the dryness in his mouth. There was no trace of the hunter, but Arlin saw his bow, bag and jacket lying next to him against a tree. He grunted and walked to the ridge where he had a good view of the landscape. In the daylight the river and the forest had lost much of its mysterious attraction, but instead came another beauty. River, air and forest now formed a contrasting palette of various types of blue, white, green and brown, highlighted by the sunlight and the shadows of the few clouds that slipped through. He smiled when he noticed the hunter, who rose out of the clear river water. The man was naked and shook the water from his hair and his body when he climbed up the river side. Arlin didn't turn away and watched, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, while the hunter, his bronzed, muscular body basking in the warm sunlight, approached. "Do not you going to wash? The water is delicious."

The hunter grinned, the latter not yet evaporated water forming droplets on his skin. The man was not ashamed, in full awareness of the sensual power of his body. On his bulging chest and tight abdomen grew soft downy hairs as dark as his head hair. His body hairs and the stubble on his cheeks and chin emphasized his masculinity, crowned by a magnificent slender dick, with underneath, a pair of large, dangling, low-hanging balls. The man smiled when he noticed the look of the traveler which slipped into his abdomen. He knew that men always compared the size of each member, as if it reflected power relations between each other. But he did not just notice envy or jealousy and basked in the attention he got and made no comment.

"No," replied the traveler finally, with slightly hoarse voice. "It's getting late. I want southward as soon as possible."

"To the capital?"

The traveler nodded. "Every day is precious."

The hunter began searching for his clothes, the magical moment broken. One day more or less on a weeklong trip made little difference. He knew that the passenger was not telling the truth, but that did not matter. There was time enough. "Travel in company is more enjoyable."

The traveler growled and began to kick out the remains of the fire. "Are you going south? To the Imperial Road?"

"I'm going where the forest takes me." The hunter buttoned his pants and rubbed his shirt. "Clover Vale is six days walking distance, if you know the way."

"How much?"

The hunter shrugged. "What you can miss. I haven't been in the city for centuries."

"And your family?"

"They cope well. It's not that I was never a week or more from home."

The traveler grunted something that looked like an agreement. He did not look at the hunter. "Good."

***

The hunter knew the quickest shortcuts through the woods, yet he chose for an easier, slower path. He was pretty sure the traveler didn't notice he brought him closer to Clover Vale via small detours. They did not speak much, the hunter a man of few words, more in his element in the woods then among men. In the evening they made camp on a wind and rain sheltered glade in the forest. In the north it was still pretty fresh in the spring and thus the traveler put one a fire while the hunter went to collect some carrots to fit with their second hare. The traveler had a piece of hard cheese, so they could enjoy a true feast. When the hunter emerged from the forest with his harvest, Arlin had already started a gently crackling fire. He had his wrtiting board on his lap, and tried some hasty writing before nightfall came.

"What are you writing?"

Arlin sensed a sincere look as he looked up at the hunter. "The events of the day."

"That can not be much there."

"The deer were watching us this morning, the remains of the forest cabin and the place of sacrifice beyond the creek a few hours later, the encounter with the hidden but miraculously well-maintained forest trails..."

"You have a discerning eye."

"An obligation, as chronicler."

They said nothing. The hunter began to skin the hare, so the image of the previous night was repeated. The traveler took the carrots and tried to clean them.

"Just scrape off the bark. And wash off everything which was above the ground. The foliage is very tasty."

The traveler nodded. "Have you ever been in the capital?"

"Once. When I was a child. I have no good memories of that time."

"Uhu."

"The forest is my home. I was born here and will die here. One calls it a dangerous forest, but tell me, any idea how many dangers in the city lurk around the corner?"

Arlin grinned and bit into one of the carrots. He swore.

The hunter laughed. "Hard, isn't it?"

The traveler grumbled.

"Three leaf root is just about the most nutritious thing you can find in the wood as no beast let it captures. But not for people with weak teeth. Altough it seems you can stew it too." He glanced sideways and caught the eye of the traveler. "I prefer them hard."

Arlin grumbled awhile, but said nothing as he broke the carrot in pieces between his teeth. After both men had turned their gaze from each other, the silence lingered a moment, only broken by the tearing of the hares skin, the crackling of the burning wood and the rustling of the trees. The traveler shivered. In the late afternoon a breeze was raised, which grew fast in strength and caused a chilly, windy evening.

"Want to go to the capital?"

The traveler nodded. "It is the Council's wish that I take account of life in the capital and on the court."

"For that you will have to ask for an audience."

"I'm aware of that."

Again there was a silence. The men moved closer to the fire and exchanged food. The jug of wine went a few times back and forth between them while she visibly enjoyed their improvised meal.

The hunter wiped the back of his hand off his lips and looked at the traveler. "You know the reputation of the empress?"

"Empress Hilda seems an extraordinary personality."

The hunter laughed. "Don't be afraid. She nor her spies will hear this. Our empress has special powers, but fortunately hearing the whispers of her subjects is still not one of these, even how much she tries."

"Reigning requires drastic means. Malvinor has been quietly for decades."

The hunter looked sideways. "You really have respect for her, huh?"

Arlin nodded.

The hunter spat a bone into the fire. "Maybe you're right. She magnified Malvinor and brought back peace and calmth. But believe me, stay away from her. The stories..."

"Stories?"

The hunter paused and stared into the flames. "You know the stories about her?"

"Tales or myths?"

"Hmh... I do not know. You may be right. If they are correct then she's not human, and that would be pretty incredible. But still... "

Arlin smiled. "Tell me."

"They say she never married because she sucks the power out of a man."

The traveler frowned. "You mean?"

"It is said that any man who shares her bed loses a bit of his strength to her."

"A succubus? Come on?!"

"It is an established fact that male servants never stay long in her service. And her bodyguard is composed exclusively of women. And she never married."

"Because men would donate a piece of their life with their seed?"

"Have you really never heard that story?"

"And I thought to have a good ear for myths."

"Be careful when you're at the court. Before you know what happened, you'll be sucked empty."

The two men laughed. Their laughs died down, abdrupt embarrassing when each other's eyes met.

The traveler got up and patted invisible dust from his clothes. "Good. I leave early this time."

"Sleep well."

"You too... "

The hunter remained at the fire, absently staring at the sparkling sky. The sparse clouds had disappeared. It would be a cold night. He smiled and looked slyly at the traveler, who rolled beside the fire in his blanket.

Although the myth of the sexual appetite of the Malvorian empress had -- to his annoyance -- excited Arlin, he felt chilly. He focused on the image of a slender, shapely black-haired woman, wrapped in nothing more than a transparent dress. She strode through a crowded throne room and enjoyed the lustful gaze of men and jealous women. The dress was so thin that it wouled be no difference if she would step naked through the hall. Some put their eyes down when she was near them, or knelt, their heads bowed for their fabulously beautiful princess. She smiled as a young, blond knight, barely twenty, kept looking at her shamelessly. So young, so confident, so naive... She stretched out her hand to him in the sight of all the spectators and whispered, Come on... Whereupon the mass of people splitted and the spellbound young knight glided to his empress who took the hand of her partner for the night. As she led him to her chambers, the image blurred. The traveler saw suddenly how the blond knight changed, and he looked at himself. He felt the warm hand of the empress on his sex. Startled, he shot up. Immediately he heard a nurturing, soothing voice against his ear. A deep male voice.

"You slept fitfully, troubled by the cold. I hope you forgive me for warming you without asking?" The hunter was pressed against his back and had pushed his hand into Arlins pants. Slowly he let the rigid member of the traveler gliding through his palm while he pushed his own bulge against his ass.

Arlin moaned softly, but did not move. He felt the Kilnors lips in his neck and the grip tightening on his hard dick. His muscles tensed while his breathing quickened. Gently he rubbed his ass against the strong body of the hunter.

"You have a nice dick," whispered the hunter, while his experienced hand slipped over Arlins stiff cock. His fingers had to be damp with some saliva. They slid over and past the circumcised glans. The man moved closer under the thick sheet against Arlin. He knew that the hunter was dry humping him and felt the heat and hardness of his cock through his clothes, but he did nothing. His one hand reached into the earth, while the other slipped into the arm of the hunter and rested there. The hunter breathed harder against his ear, crescendo with the rhythm with which he jerked Arlin. His hand suddenly slipped to his balls.

"You will probably not often fuck, if you're traveling alone?"

The traveler sighed a confirmation.

"According to me, you balls are full. That's not good."

Arlin groaned.

"You really need to fuck more. Or jerking off. Full balls are not good... I'll help you." The hand slid back to his throbbing, rock-hard cock. The hunter now bumped to his lower back and the blanket fell of their two, dressed bodies. Arlin saw how the heat damped off their bodies into the cold night. He moaned as the hand jerking his cock again and he felt his balls contracting. In vain he stifled a scream when he came and powerful waves of sperm poured over the hunters hand and his own abdomen. At the same time he felt a moist heat against his lower back, while the hunter gasped in his neck. They said not a word, while the hunter withdrew his sticky hand and threw the blanket back over them. Slowly their breathing returned to a normal rhythm. Arlin remained equally fulfilled, motionless lying, the warm body of the hunter pressed against his back, before he surrendered again to his -- this time quieter -- dreams.

The next morning Arlin woke first. The dew was still on the blanket while he gently slipped from the loose embrace of the hunter, who groaned in protest. He polished his clothes, ignoring the granular stain on the sleeve of his shirt, and refreshed with leftover water that they have had with them. He felt dirty and regretted his earlier refusal to bathe.

As he chewed on a piece of dried meat he looked at the sleeping hunter and grabbed his writing board. When the man woke up and noticed the look of the traveler he smiled. He freed himself from the blanket and stretched. His loud primal morning yawn resonated in the forest. "What is the morning blessed when you've slept great!"

Arlin grinned and bent over his work while the hunter began rummaging around the fire, until he found his metal cup. He started making coffee and glanced at the writing man.

"Inspiration?"

"Sunrise and sunset are perfect moments."

"Then you will probably not write about some boring story."

"It's rude to probe the contents of a writers work before it's finished."

"Oh." The two men laughed and went to their respective tasks.

Less than half an hour later they were again, packed and ready, on one of the beautiful but hidden paths through the vast forest. Marshlands, heather and dense pine forests with soft soil quickly followed. They barely exchanged a word, visibly comfortable in each other's silent presence. In the late afternoon they reached a creek with clear water in a small bowl valley, enclosed on two sides by dense forest. Although the sun began to sink it was unexpectedly hot, the air trapped by the shelter of woods and rocks. Arlin immediately wanted to take the opportunity to refresh himselve. As he dropped his clothes the hunter looked smiling, lying in the tall grass. This time it was the older, dark-haired man standing nude, water dripping from his paler body. The enjoyment of the warmth on his skin caused his member to swell, a view the hunter did not miss. "I can help you with that, if you will."

Arlin looked at him, hesitantly, but did not hid his crotch. He knew his cock was growing with small shocks.

"I already said that full balls are not good for a man. Mother Nature has created us with the obligation to daily expel our seed."

Arlin controlled his laughter. The faith of the forest dwellers had a rancid, altough a most pleasant rancid edge. He had heard whispers at the Elven Court, not without some jealousy hidden in it, about the 'immoral behavior' of the inhabitants of the Darinian forests. He still needed to further interrogate the hunter.