Skin Deep

Chapter 1

When I was a child, everyone knew I had a magical talent. It wasn't much, and since it was fairly harmless, they let it pass. The open exhibition of such abilities often can get you ostracized (or worse) in small superstitious villages, but our leader was wiser than most. He knew that a small child with a small gift could do no harm.
He was of the opinion that the thing I could do posed no threat to anyone. That sort of became my mantra over the first few decades of my life; I was the one who could do no harm.
I had learned that I could take a small, rough stone and roll it into a marble. As you might expect, every boy and girl in the village had plenty of marbles to play with. I was only limited in my ability by the size of the rock, meaning they were never consistent in their bulk. My compatriots and I would go searching for prettier ones down by the river, and any passerby along the banks would be surprised by the globe-like boulders that lined the shore. Those were obviously a little too large for the likes of us to move, but they were wonders none the less.
And that would have been the extent of my gift had it not been for an odd circumstance. We all bowed down to the elder gods, and our small temple held statues of the three most important ones. I'll not bother you with their names. They lend nothing of value to this story.
The forearm on one of them fell off. This was sacrilege of course, but worse, the village didn't have the funds to have it repaired. The chief came to me one day; I remember it well because it was the summer solstice; he came to me with the broken fingers and the hand and set them before me.
"Son, I want to see if you can mend this."
I shivered a little, knowing what it was.
"I can't. I can only make marbles."
"Son. Petro..." he said quietly, calling me by the name I had been given, "...you can only make marbles because that is all you have ever tried to make. Perhaps you can do more if you make an effort to try something new."
I nervously picked up a white alabaster finger and found the place where it had been severed from the sculpted hand. I looked at it, wondering how the artist had originally carved something this hard. But then again, I had no idea how I could what I did.
As I stared at it, contemplating what I was going to have to do to make it stick. I concentrated and thought and when I tired of that, I decided to let go of the finger and call it quits. The finger, however, had other ideas.
It remained in place!
I looked up at the chief and he smiled so hugely I thought his face would split.
"You see! Do the others."
I did and in a brief few moments, the hand looked almost new. A few cracks showed, but I ran my fingertip over them and they vanished.
The chief picked it up and put a gentle hand on my shoulder.
"Let's see about reattaching it to the statue, shall we?"
I had never been in the temple proper before. Adults went in there, not children. But with him as an escort, I felt quite privileged to be ushered inside. The interior was dark, making the looming figures seem all the more forbidding because of it.
He took the broken hand and held it up against the rough spot where it belonged. He had me press my hands along the fracture and asked me to concentrate as I had done before. When we let go – with our breaths held pensively – the piece remained in place. He reached forward and pulled on it, but it was as affixed in place as it had been when first made.
After that I became the local handyman. A crack in a wall? I could fix that. Ewer fractured. Not a problem. Window pane smashed? I'd lay the pieces out and have it together in no time.
After the passing of a few years, someone came through town and first heard of, then witnessed my abilities. It was a few months after that that a strange old man showed up. The whispering among the townsfolk alluded that he wore the robes of the Wizard's Guild. There was no love for wizards and mages here, but no one dared to say anything against them. The religious folk declared them to be vile and wicked, unnatural in the eyes of the gods. Most of us followed their beliefs for a lack of any better route to follow.
But they had always said that I was alright. Small praise for an orphan boy, but it meant the world to me.
I was stood in front of this man and told to do what it was that I did. By now, I was able to repair many different things, and even had tried my hand at sculpting the stones into a semblance of art. Some of them were pretty good, but nothing like the hand carved statues in the temple. I guess I didn't have enough imagination to be that skilled.
I made my marbles, using fragments of a red granite boulder. They were very pretty and as I formed them, I dropped them into his hand. He nodded, but said nothing. I worked my way up to iron from the smithy. I could form the appearance of a knife, but it lacked the strength of the real thing. He nodded again.
"Young man, you have a gift, but a very unusual gift. I am unclear as to whether or not you can be trained in the higher arts."
A thrill ran through me at his words. I could be a wizard? But at the same time, that meant leaving home. The thrill turned into a shiver.
"Yes sir. I don't know how I even do these things."
"Ignorance is often the stumbling block to those with gifts. That is why there are schools. Honing what you have naturally is the job of those with experience. But your gift manifests in an unusual way. Most practitioners can utter spells to focus their abilities. You simply touch things and bend them to your will. We have no teachers for such methods."
My heart sank, and at the same time I was filled with relief. Becoming a full blown wizard would make me an outcast. I had never been outside of the village.
But the old man continued.
"You will come with me, if you wish it, and we will see what we can do with you. You'll never be a master, but I think that you can be shown how to handle your gift and do more with it. I believe that we can advance you past being the village handyman, but how far you go will ultimately be with you. There is as much hard work in mastering magical powers as there is in toiling the fields all day, and let no one tell you differently."
I believe that the decision was already in my head. As much as it scared me, I had no real attachments in the village, and while they might regret losing someone who could fix nearly everything that needed it, they were also wary of anyone who was different. Once I was grown, they very well may decide that I was a threat. I wasn't wise, but I was no fool either.
I chose to go.
I'll not bore you the full details of my education. I was taught to write...in three languages. I became well versed in science, medicine, art, and fighting. One of the first things I learned was that a mage did not survive by magic alone. A sword could kill you faster than you could utter a spell.
Of course, it turned out I could speak no spells. Even the simplest of them failed for me. I was never going to be good at counter-spells and that ruled out my use by the crown to wander the edges of a kingdom warding off vile magic-wielders. I wasn't going to be any good at leech-craft or any of the healing arts either. They all used verbal incantations and magic potions.
No matter what they tried to teach me, I simply couldn't do it. I had every spell memorized by the time I was fourteen. And not a single one worked. The grand master was confounded by my lack of ability in these small tasks. He had seen me do what it was that I did, so he knew I had power. It simply wasn't of a caliber to be useful to anyone but the common people.
Oh, he didn't say that precisely. He said that I had a unique gift and that it was going to be up to me to hone it, just as the one who had brought me here had said. They (the school) had given me everything they could to allow me to be better and more skilled, but that I simply didn't fit into the mold they had created for what was a wizard.
When I set off in the world, it was with little more than a grand education, a few coins, a shoulder bag, and my clothing. I had opted to not accept the usual cloak one gets when they leave. I believe that the master approved. I wasn't a wizard in the usual sense, and displaying their colors might very well tarnish their reputation.
I had difficulty in getting employment at first, so I took to the road. As I walked through the various villages, I was reminded of home. And thinking of home reminded me of marbles. And that gave me an idea.
I walked back along the road and down to a stream. I picked through the numerous rocks and gravel, sorting through the water-washed banks until I had several pounds of material to work with. I returned and sat down in the middle of the square and went to work.
I drew immediate attention as I dumped forth the fruit of my labors. It wasn't often a crazy man came into town with a load of pebbles and stones in his bag. I ignored everyone and set about turning them into balls. One of the larger one's I morphed into the semblance of a wolf. As I worked I set them down in front of me.
The children where the first to gather. Not one of them spoke to me, but they whispered amongst themselves as I mentally molded and shaped the odd assortment of material I had gathered. One little girl eventually left and came back with a piece of wood. I looked up as she stuck it under my nose.
"Yes?" I asked quietly.
"Can you make me a doll?'
I took the wood, feeling the weight in it. Good solid oak.
"Maybe. Why should I?"
"Because maybe you can?"
Her toe dug into the dirt.
I peered at her face. It was freckled, dimpled and cute.
I looked at the piece of wood and transferred the exact details to it. It wasn't going to be one of those fancy dolls with moving arms and legs, but more like a little statue. I could have done more, but there was no point in going overboard.
When I was done I held it up. All eyes went large. The little girl stepped forward, then back, unsure if she had a right to claim it. I handed it to her with a smile.
"There is your doll."
"Thank you sir."
"You are very welcome."
From there on in, I was flocked with requests. I explained that I could do many things, but that I would only do a few. My one master had told me not to antagonize the craft folk by doing their expertise. He told me to only do those things that were beyond everyone else. That way, I would generate good will all around and save myself a lot of hassle from legitimate craftsmen.
And he was very much correct.
The local blacksmith came out to stare at me. Apparently one of the kids running loose was his. He stared at the dwindling collection of trinkets I had formed and gave me a hard look. There was both hope and reproach in it.
"What kind of wizard be ye?"
"Not a very good one. I just...make things different. Better."
He was a big man; burly on top and narrowing down to a rather unimpressive lower half. That was the nature of his business; standing in place all day wielding a hammer, beating out metal on an anvil until it complied with his wishes.
"Better. I need better."
"OK. Can you pay?"
"Depends. Can you deliver?"
"Depends," I countered. "What do you need?"
"Me anvil. She's cracking. It cost me precious coin years back. Can't afford a new one. Can't be repaired either. When she's gone, I'm lost."
"Hmmmm. An anvil you say. Can't make any promises..."
I got up, but not before tossing the already-made bits to the gathered children. This man's anvil wasn't going to be a problem, but another of my teachers had told me to never be overt with a display of your power.
"Son," he said, "If people think it comes easy to you, then they'll take it for granted. Make the little things look straightforward, but put on a show with the big stuff. Otherwise they'll take what you do as being nothing."
I had learned a bit of showmanship from a traveling circus troupe that I assisted by mending their broken wagon wheel. Work up a sweat, said one, when doing something that looks impressive. If they don't see you sweat, they'll either assume it's fake (which it often was) or they'll think that you have more power than you're showing. Either way ruins the effect.
I followed him into his smithy, which was cluttered with bits and pieces of metal. Sure enough, there was a visible crack running down the end of the anvil. It was a wonder it hadn't split already.
"Hmmm. That is bad. And iron too."
His face fell.
"Ya cannot fix it then?"
"I didn't say that. But it will take me a while. And I don't wish to be disturbed while I do it."
His eyes lit up, then darkened.
"What'll it be costing me?"
"Depends on the job I do on it. No point in paying a man who can't deliver what he promises."
He gave me an odd look.
"Aye, if you say so. You'll try then?"
"I do say so. Now get out. I need to concentrate."
He vanished out the front. I looked to see if he left completely, only to find him there, huge arms crossed, guarding the entryway. I could hear him from time to time, shooing away the children and talking to other villagers. I pressed my hands on the immense hunk of iron and mended it immediately. Child's play really. Then I sat down and looked around his shop.
He had a lot of scrap that I considered reforming into ingots, but then, he hadn't asked for that. Giving more than the customer requested was good, but in this case, might diminish what I was asked to do.
His tools looked worn, and again, I considered doing more than he asked, but I was certain he didn't have the money to pay for it, and thus I might leave him feeling abused and put out.
So I sat there for the better part of an hour, relaxing and contemplating who else I might help. I had no intention of bilking the locals, but I was only going to stay only so long before moving on.
After I had rested, I came out, trying to look worn and tired. As I had nodded off, the tired part came easy. I stretched in the sunlight, gazing at the crowd that had gathered as I approached the big man. He turned, following the stares from his fellows.
"Well?"
"Good as new I think. Maybe better. I put an awful look of energy into it. Come see."
He nearly threw me to the ground to get past me. Everyone else nearly trampled me to follow. What followed was a mad rush to see if I was a charlatan or the real thing. It became apparent I was the latter. I was inundated with requests, but only after the smith and I came to a financial agreement. As a new anvil would have cost him thirty gold pieces, he gave me the equivalent of two. I was sure he didn't wish to part with even that much, but I had saved his career and he knew that the job was worth far more.
Me? Well, I knew that it had been nothing to fix it, and therefore I hardly expected too much from him. To each as they can pay, the circus troupe leader had said. You may not make a fortune, but you will always eat. Keep your expectations low, do good work and people will flock to you.
He was right...and he was wrong. But I will get to that later on.
I stayed there for a few days before taking a bow and leaving them to their own devices. I was sure they would remember me, but I was equally sure I would never come back. There were plenty of places just like it, and they would all have their little problems.
And they would all have the coins to pay for them.
Now, by this point, you're probably wondering where my story is going. Have patience. One cannot know how one got to where they ended up without knowing how they got there. The story gets better, and I get richer. And I get more than that before the end. You see, spellcasters may get the glory, but being one can get you killed. Being what I was, I often went largely unnoticed. But not completely unnoticed.
Harmless, they said. And I was.
But I was only scratching the surface of what I could potentially do..
In one of the larger towns I visited, I came across the keeper of the Gardens of Salacit, one of the lesser, female fertility gods. I no longer had the slightest care for deities, but I could well appreciate beauty, and she was depicted as being quite exquisite. She had adherents across the kingdom, but mostly in places like this, where they could support her lavishness. I mean that in no bad way; simply put, the lesser communities could not spare the time or the money that was required for the upkeep of her temples.
They were, more or less, elaborate arboretums.
The keeper saw me working, and in a flashback to my first real experience, asked if I could manage the repair of a statue. I hesitantly agreed, putting on my show as I always did. The task was simple enough, and done in reasonable time. He handed me a gold coin of the region, which I placed reverently in my pouch. He then took me through the garden, showing me all of the lovely flowers and shrubbery dedicated to the goddess.
One corner of the neatly laid out park was a little bit in disrepair. I was curious about that, and as I went to look it over, my hand was grabbed by the keeper's own.
"That area we do not visit."
"Diseased?"
"Once. The Tolus tree there is misshapen and ruined. We are forbidden to remove it until it dies, for it is the tree of the goddess herself. We are not even allowed to tend that portion of the garden. So it lies in ruin until the tree fades completely."
"And if I decide to go over there and look despite your warning?"
The keeper shrugged.
"Do as you wish. The warning is merely meant to keep people from thinking badly of the goddess."
Now the Tolus tree, for those of you who may be unfamiliar with them, has completely smooth bark. It has a tannish-gray cast to it, and the limbs are generally very straight and unblemished. They never grown very tall, not like oaks or gavana trees. They can be, and often are, formed into a shape that mimics the appearance of a female. Such topiary art is highly prized by many of these gardens. It takes years to get them altered to a state of perfection and once in that state, they can last for a century or more..
Despite the verdant foliage, this tree had been given up on long ago.
From all appearances, it had been hit by some sort of blight. There were knots over part of it, and the normally lovely branches were misshapen and bent at odd angles. It was the ugliest specimen of what is generally considered the loveliest lovely tree in ten kingdoms as I had ever seen. Personally, I would have done the proper thing and have removed it years ago. But such was the drama the religious sects had to deal with.
The keeper saw the look on my face before turning to the tree.
"Yes, it is very sad. I would prefer to clear this patch out, but while the tree may look disreputable, it is nonetheless alive. I would suffer the penalty of death dare I try to remove it."
Then he jerked his head back to me.
"Could you?"
"Could I what my friend?"
"Could you reshape it?"
"No! That is a living thing! My power doesn't work on living things!"
"How do you know? Have you tried?"
He made a good point. My teachers had never had me try out my power on anything other than non-animate objects. The thought of doing such things to living creature made my stomach roil a little. But in the back of my mind, I recalled that girl and her piece of wood. I made that into a doll. And the wood had been living once...
"No, I haven't," I said hesitantly.
"Then now is the time to try. You can do no harm other than killing the tree, which would allow us to at least remove it and start over."
"Would that be proper?"
He winked.
"Perhaps and perhaps not. I will leave alone to do your work, and thus we will have no witnesses. If you succeed, I will grant you ten times the payment you have already earned, for her (the goddess) followers will flock here to see the miracle. And it will be our little secret!"
He ended up granting me thirty times that original amount.
I sat down and considered the subject in front of me. Reshaping a living organism seemed cruel to my way of thinking. On the opposite side of the argument though was the fact that trees didn't feel. At least, no one had ever told me that they did. Goats ate their leaves, and men chopped them down for lumber. I had never heard tales of a single one of them screaming in pain.
This one had two main roots burrowing into the ground. There were small branches jutting out from the trunk in various places, and three larger ones that made up the upper portion. I wasn't clear what form the keeper desired, so I sat and thought on it. Eventually my mind went back to that little girl and her doll. Then I recalled the statue.
Eureka!
I started on it at the level of the soil, forming the above-ground portion of the roots into the shape of petite feet. The tree responded as though it were mere wet clay. I formed the lower trunk into legs, attached together in the middle to keep the trunk intact.
So far, so good.
I worked the wood, smoothing out the irregularities as I went. I got to the junction of the legs and the hips before stalling out. I didn't want to be disrespectful, but the goddess was, as far as I could recall, one of vibrant life and fertility. So I gave a little crease just above the juncture of the legs, eased down a petite branch with its thin, tiny leaves, and allowed it to sit just above it.
I leaned back and smiled. The way I was going I just might need to find some relief. The lower portion was a dream.
I worked the hips next, making them broad, but not excessively so. A dimple in the wood I allowed to remain, creating from it her navel. I forced the small branches upwards on the ever-changing portrait of the goddess, pushing them towards the top as I formed the most enticing pair of breasts one could imagine on a tree.
Or on anyone for that matter.
I even gave them a nice caress when I was done.
I moved the two side branches down, creating shoulders, then elbows, wrists and hands. I had them down in the position of offering, as if she were entreating a lover. The tips of her fingers sprouted greenery as I just mentioned, thin frail-looking leaves bushing out as though she were holding ferns.
The neck proved easy enough, and reshaping the remaining branch was not difficult, but when I got to her face, I stopped.
Could I do that much detail? The goddess was always shown as being this radiant being of upmost loveliness. Could I manage that here and now? I pictured the statue I had just repaired, and recollected how I was disappointed in the sculptor's inability to express emotion. There was none of note. Beauty was many things to many people, but there was one thing even the most unattractive person could do to improve their looks.
They could smile.
I remembered all of the faces I had seen over my travels, looking for the right contours and emotions to transfer unto this living representation. Stone and marble lacked what people innately carried with them. I ran my fingers over the tree, pinching a nose into shape, then lidded eyes, ears, and a mouth. I delicately worked the corners of it into a slight, enigmatic smile. I spent no small amount of time on the tree, getting the features just the way I wanted them. I wanted the loveliness of the face on the statue, only with much more life than the carver could give her,
When I was done there, I took the remaining untamed portion and brought it down over the head in a cascade of tiny branches filled with those slender leaves.
The goddess had a hairdo, which like any living woman's, would continue to grow.
I stood back and admired my work, feeling for the first time my heart beating rapidly in my chest. I had no idea my power worked on the living, nor that it could do things like this! Then my logical side took over. Yes, this was great, but not something that needed to be bantered about idly. This was something that could be used to boost me into a better life if I played it correctly.
Life wasn't bad mind you, but the life of an itinerant mage got a little stale. Instead of traveling through the villages, I could begin seeking work in the larger cities. I simply needed a gimmick to promote my abilities. I was just now realizing that they may extend well beyond what I had supposed!
I looked up the keeper and bowed to him.
"I have done as you requested, but I am unsure how you will feel with its appearance. Please come back and tell me how I did."
The scream came first. The thud came second. His reaction startled some animal or other from the nearby flowering bushes, but I was too intent on assisting him after his faint to pay much mind. The poor old guy had seen the tree and had been overcome with emotion. I'll not try to describe his babblings and his rapid gesticulations. I'll only say that he paid me more than was promised and would have paid even more except that I finally halted his generosity with a touch of my own propriety.
He had calmed down a little by then.
"Once people hear of this, they will come from leagues in all directions. The temple will be swimming in coins!"
I had to believe him. I had done, after all, something of a miracle. I doubted even the most powerful wizard could have done that, and if they could have, I doubt they would have. I thought about using that as an example of my skills, but the nagging thought from my youth told me to let it go. Religion and magic didn't mix. True, the keeper seemed to have no problem with it, but I was beginning to think he was more of an opportunist than a true believer. It made no difference to me. I now had coin enough to support me for many a league, and after getting some food for the road, I went to the outskirts and made camp.
In the morning I would be off. Staying here now might prove unpredictable at best. Thankfully, only two people knew what had occurred, and I was pretty sure neither one of us was going to talk about it.
Somewhere around midnight, a previously unknown third witness came forward.
There was no stealth involved with their approach. I could hear the thump of a cane or crutch from many yards away. I sat up, wary but unafraid. I was rather concerned that an obvious cripple was making their way in the dark. I stirred up the coals of my fire, threw on some more bits of wood, and blew on them to set them alight.
As the glow sprang up, a figure could be made out against the black of the night.
"Come into the light friend. You are a friend, are you not?" I asked quietly.
I had my hand on a large limb, in case the answer wasn't what I wanted to hear.
"Friend," came a thin voice.
A female voice.
"Then come and sit," I said, offering a hand.
The crutch (for it was a crutch) kicked up dirt as she swiveled her body to where I sat. She lowered herself to the ground, wincing as she did.
"Thank you sir but I am fine."
I sadly couldn't refrain from being a little mischievous. Once I spoke I thought I might end up regretting it.
"I think not."
She made a face at me before sticking out her tongue.
"I am as good as I can be under the circumstances."
"I know. Sorry. I don't have a lot of interaction with people. My manners aren't always suitable to the company."
She nodded.
"Isolation makes a person lonely."
"It does. Then again, I suppose you would know all about that."
She took no umbrage at my words.
"People see me and pity me. Pity is fine, but they need to care as well. Pity is just thinking to yourself; I'm glad that isn't me."
"I pity you then, for I am glad I can walk on my own two legs, and that my back is straight. I can try to care, if you like, but I can do little more than that."
She rubbed her hands over the fire.
"You are a curious man. And a liar."
"Liar! How dare you!"
"Calm thyself. If you truly care, you would offer me help."
"Help? I am no doctor, physician or practitioner of leech craft!"
"And none of those would do me any good. As your eyes have seen, I am bent and twisted. No herbal or decoction can change that."
It was then that I came to the realization that she somehow knew.
"You were in the garden..."
"I was. It has been long since I scampered away that quickly."
"And you want me to try and fix you?"
"I feel that as an individual I am fine. My body is...less than ideal."
"Whoa now. That tree was the first time I have ever tried my power on something that's alive. I could kill you, or cause you pain..."
"You could. The first would end my suffering, while the other would be bearable, for I am in pain every day. Would you not find it in your heart to cure me from either end of the spectrum?"
"No. I do not kill."
"Then we have an accord. You will cure me by fixing my misshapen and horrific form."
I sat in silence. I did not like being backed into a corner, especially over a power I had only recently discovered I had. Still, this might be a chance for me to see just what I had in me.
"I will do a small portion at a time."
"Agreed. You understand that I have no money..."
"I have money enough for two people to live on. I need no more."
"As you say. I just wanted you to be clear on that point."
I was about to tell her to come closer, when it dawned on me what a cad I would be for making her move. It must have taken her all night to get to where I had made camp. I did the noble thing and edged around the fire to seat myself next to her.
She wore nothing on her feet, and since one of them was a clubfoot, no shoemaker would have even tried making anything for her. I ran my finger over its malformed length and breadth, visualizing something more petite and appropriate. She gasped, and I jerked away at the sharp intake of breath, but she composed herself with an apology.
"The feeling is strange. I can contain myself. Please...continue."
I returned to working it into something more normal in appearance. When I was done, I compared it to the other, which in itself needed a little reworking. I worked upwards, creating the appearance of normality. In a matter of half an hour she had two lovely feet that should have been able to carry her without the crutch, which she tried to do...unsuccessfully.
She fell over. However, she got herself up immediately and back next to the fire with a smile on her face.
"Just because you make part of me as it should be does not mean I can use it as it should be used. I have never walked normally. I think I will have to learn how. And besides, my feet and legs are not the only problem. "
Without shame or hesitation, she pulled off her tattered robe and dropped it beside her. Her back was gnarled and warped to the point that even as I ran my fingers along her spine, I wondered how she tolerated it. I slowly and meticulously eased the bones into a better semblance of order, taking from them their spiraling chaos and giving them the positions they should have had. I gave silent thanks to the schooling I had received, for Master Levittus had pounded the names of every one of them into my head. This was the first time that I had thought of him and his macabre skeleton to any generous degree.
She groaned a bit as her body was forced into a proper formation. She bit her lip enough to draw blood, but she never said a word. I sculpted and I shifted her parts until they looked liked they should have looked from the beginning. It was then that I peered into her face.
The flickering firelight wasn't doing it any favors.
That it was less than ideal is all I will say against it. It matched the rest of her, so I guess that didn't come as any sort of surprise. It had youthfulness to it, as one might have assumed it would, but there was nothing there that could have been claimed as being worthy of a second glance.
"I'm not pretty am I?"
"No. Should I fix that as well?"
"Could you?"
I sighed.
"Only on the outside. You will remain the person you are within."
"I am happy with who I am. As I cannot see myself, I have only the nasty remarks others give me regarding my outside. They rarely look to who is inside."
I was doing that too, without understanding that the person inside might very well be perfectly wonderful. I ran my hands over her face, seeing her smile at my touch. She probably didn't have too many people make contact with her, in an effort to stave off any possible contamination to themselves. I knew better than that. Being a cripple from birth was not the same as catching a contagion. I was beginning to understand why the masters had wanted their wards to be so well-rounded.
You see, I thought that perhaps she was bitter for the twisted shape life had given her. I assumed she was an orphan like me, having been dumped onto the streets as soon as was possible to rid whatever household of their weakest link. I found that idea to be horrid and discourteous. At least my parents had died.
I pictured a face like the statue of the goddess, and thus, one much like that I impressed upon the tree. It had soft features with high cheekbones and a short but dignified nose. Her eyes, now that I found myself staring into them, were of a rich green shade, like the imported jade from the east. Such eyes were rare hereabouts, and I thought quietly as to how she had managed to get them. Her father or mother must have been a foreigner in these lands.
As I finished, I ran my fingers through her tangled reddish hair, clearing out the least persistent of her knots. She reminded me a little of the tree, but only just a little. Perhaps it had to do with my actions in both cases, and my imagination being a tad limited. Of course they might look the same to me, for who had been the architect of their present states?
Me, myself and I.
And as I looked at her; a much more pleasant thing for the eyes now; I came to the sudden awareness that my power could be used on living creatures without harm.
Or...
...at least with pain involved, but no lasting aftereffects.
I nearly leaned in and kissed her, but remembered my manners before I did something stupid.
"How do you feel," I asked cautiously.
"Now that you're finished, not much different than before you began. How do I look?"
I had a slew of words I could have used. Only one came to mind and one only.
"Divine."
It could have been a trick of the dimming light, but I thought I saw a blush come to her cheeks.
"You are a liar."
"Maybe. Most men are. But if you feel I am telling you an untruth, then by all means find a pool of water and make your own judgment."
"It is too dark for that and you know it. If you're not lying, then prove it to me."
"Prove it?! That's a tall order, especially since you don't seem to want to take my word on the matter."
"Do not think I am disappointed if I remain homely. The thought that I have been freed from my defects is most wonderful. But you say that you have made me...divine...and I think that if you made me into an object of that much beauty, you would desire to have it."
It took me a moment, I will admit, before her intent sunk in. I had seen her deformed self; I now was seeing her perfected version, and she assumed I would desire to have her sexually. I was surprised that the thought had not occurred to me. She seemed so frail before that such a thing as forcing myself on her might have broken her for good. But now; while she was hardly any more filled out than before, her limbs and torso were properly placed and she did have a certain, waifish appeal.
"You want me to..."
"Not if you do not wish it. I have little else to pay you with."
"There is no need for payment. I did this because it was the right thing to do."
She sat there, a look of yearning on her face. One might expect such a look from the starving when presented with a platter of food. I had not bothered to determine her age before, and now that I had rearranged her features, it was impossible for me to tell, so I asked.
"How old are you?"
"How should I know? I was too young when I was born to remember much about it."
I started to laugh, but reconsidered. She might be a bit too young for such interaction. True, this land had no rules on it, but I was a rather moral person.
"As was I, but I still know my age."
"Because you had someone to tell you. I have had no such guidance."
"You sound as though you mean that."
Her face grew clouded.
"I have only the vaguest images of my beginnings. Looking to the future, I cannot see my end. Therefore, I only wish to make the inevitable time in between memorable."
"That is admirable, though perhaps a little naive. The world makes matters memorable enough, without us trying to add to it."
"I...I mean to make it memorable for my own benefit. I have seen...heard... much of what you allude to; men and their wars, cruelty, dishonesty. I want to experience the better side to living. Can you say that you have no pleasant memories?"
She had a point. Life had not been so difficult as to not allow me to look back and smile at some of the happenings along the way. My childhood was not ideal, but it had been good enough. My schooling was arduous, but again, there was little, as an adult, that I could readily claim to have been terrible. And now. Now I had more power at my disposal than I thought I could ever have.
I looked over at her and was suddenly overcome with a desire to make life a wonderful experience for her. She had made an offer, but it seemed to me to be an offer of payment. That was something I could not accept. Oh, I had lain with girls before; I was heading for twenty, and while I wasn't the most dashing figure born, I did have some fair looks to me. Those past trysts had been mere flings as I passed through the various locales; spots along the way to some destination I had yet to figure out. Each of us got something out of it and moved on. I would love to settle down and perhaps raise a family. I was now on the path to being able to do that. This girl; this soul; had offered her tormented body to me as a means to an end. I had fixed her, and she was offering back in return.
"You really desire to...to be with me?"
Her smile grew brighter than the flames from the fire.
"Ahhh. You thought less? I may be acting the part of the fool, but I think I know a good man when I see one."
"And if I turn down your offer?"
"To lay with me? I would think no more and no less of you for it. You feel that you would be taking advantage of me?"
"Yes. I asked for no payment for what I did."
"And I expect no faithfulness from you should you accept. We both know our minds. Perhaps I can offer a solution?"
"I'm listening."
She stood, just as awkwardly as before. I handed her the crutch and she leaned on it while contemplating my face.
"I have nothing here to keep me. You have made me whole, but I must now grow accustomed to being normal. I would ask you to be my companion, or maybe the other way around. If we find that we are not suitable for each other, I will leave when it is convenient, and you can carry on with your way of doing things."
"And as for the offer?"
"It is open for you to take whenever you wish, and to ignore for as long as you can."
"You sound very sure of yourself."
"I see in your eyes that you have made me as beautiful as a woman can be. I see the admiration and the longing. How long before others will find themselves attracted to me, and then you will have competition."
"You're awfully sassy for someone who was a cripple just a short while ago."
"Sassy?" she said with a smile. "I am who I am. Is my assessment incorrect?"
I pondered, but not for long. As I said, she needed to fill out, but I had money enough to feed the two of us for weeks. And she was divine. Heavenly was an equal if not a better word. I had gone and made her into a semblance of the ideal woman. That still didn't mean I felt that she owed me a life of servitude, or whatever it was she was thinking.
"I'll agree with your offer of travel. I intend to keep my hands off of you until the time we feel it's proper."
She lowered herself back to the ground.
"I have already made my decision. I will be awaiting yours. Should I try to convince you now, or allow time to soften your heart and harden other parts?"
Her blunt statement caught me off guard.
"You know of such things?"
"Of course. Couples sneak into the garden and do it all of the time to try and conceive."
"Oh. I had not thought of such matters. Does it help?"
She smiled and shrugged.
"How would one such as me be privy to such things? The enjoyment they had of the moment was worth the effort to watch them try to produce a child. That their performing the act in the garden helped? That I cannot say."
"You...a voyeur?"
"Who would have wanted to perform such a fantastic act with the likes of me? Even now, when I am apparently divine, a man hesitates. So I have been content to merely observe."
"You'll not let that rest, will you?"
"Tell me why you do not like me."
I groaned. She was not going to let this drop.
"For one, I have only just met you. Secondly, I told you; I feel that you are being forward in an effort to pay me. I have plenty of gold from the keeper. I will not allow you to lower yourself to being a mere," I had trouble spitting it out, "a mere prostitute just because I did something nice for you."
Her eyes glowed in the remnants of the fire.
"You are a noble man. I offer and you rebuff because you find it unsuitable to your code of conduct. You have never lain with a girl?"
"I have. The situations were different."
"Curious. I will stay with you until you no longer desire my company."
"And you'll let the matter of our possible...coupling...you'll let it rest?"
"I will. You may be correct. Tomorrow, I may find that I despise you. In the morning light, you may yet find me repulsive."
"I would never find you..."
I paused. In all of this arguing, I had found her to be much more than I had first anticipated. She might have been a cripple in the physical sense, but she had made up for it with a well developed mind. She might not have received the education I had, but her way of thinking was a sharp as steel.
She smirked at me.
"Find me what?"
"You are not what I expected. You are as strong-willed as a mule."
"But with a prettier face?"
"A much prettier face. One that does you justice."
"I see. Say it again in the morning, and I will try not to despise you for it."
I was left feeling a mix of emotions. A few hours ago I had never known this creature, and now she was the loveliest thing I knew and it appeared that she had an interest in me. I felt it was some subtle trap, though to what purpose I could not fathom. If there was to be a hazard in my life, I could think on none more worthy of dying for. Or of.
"I will wait as you ask, though I feel my words will be the same."
"Until sunrise then."
She slipped her clothing back on and curled up on the ground. I still missed the comfort of a bed, but she seemed well suited to the hard ground. I envied her that, but as the minutes went by, I drifted off. I had fitful dreams, with strange visions, but by morning that had all deserted me. I woke to the dawn just breaking over the horizon.
I looked to where I had left her and found her gone.
That was when I noticed the pale arm draped across my chest. I turned and grinned; not hugely or with the toothy smile an idiot gives. No, this was an expression of wonder. That she so readily trusted me that she had, in the wee hours, had moved in closer and snuggled against me for warmth. I nearly took her up on the offer right then, but that would have spoiled the picture of beauty I was gazing at with rapt adoration.
I had outdone myself.
No trained sculptor could have created as refined a face as I had. I nearly wept from the fine lines, the delicate sweep of the jaw, to the perfect pair of ears on either side of her head. I was unable to see her original face clearly before, but this had to be an extraordinary difference. The question was; had she ever seen it as it was, and would she even know her face now that it was enhanced beyond recognition.
I ran a finger ever so lightly across it again, marveling at the look of it.
She sighed and opened her eyes.
"Good morrow to you. Does my face do me justice?"
"I cannot say. I have never met a goddess before."
She jerked up, springing back like a startled cat. It was as if she had been struck by a bolt of lightning.
"What?" was all she could utter.
"Your face is a thing to be worshiped. I meant to make you beautiful, and I said it was divine, but until now I failed to see what I had wrought."
She placed my hand in hers, seemingly calming down at my words.
"I do not despise you for it."
I was a little shocked.
"Why would you have?"
"I will go from one spectacle to another, only on different ends of the spectrum, no?"
"I suppose you might. But now any man would want you, as you said."
"Yes, even princes and kings maybe. But do you think this is what I wished?"
"Don't you want happiness?"
"You equate riches and beauty with happiness. Money is man's way of trying to be better than his brothers. Use it for the necessities in life, but never let it rule you."
"Then what, pray tell, should rule me?"
She kissed my nose. The touch was as if a butterfly had landed there.
"What could matter more than joy and love?"
"Love? I have never known love. And joy?"
I paused before speaking again.
"Besides, happiness can be fleeting."
"As can sadness, hatred and fear," she retorted quietly. "People often allow those emotions to rule them, do they not?"
"Yes. But they seem to be no match for the finer feelings. Hate often out-trumps love."
"You speak from personal matters of your own heart?"
I sighed again.
"I do not. But believe me miss...excuse me, but I don't think you gave me your name."
"I have none but what I call myself. Will that do?"
"It's better than nothing."
"Tica. And you are?"
"Honored."
The girl actually blushed.
"Thank you, but I was asking for your name in return."
"Petro. That's what I was told anyways. I never really knew my mother or father."
"Nor did I mine. That gives us something in common."
"You are still trying to get us together, aren't you?"
"Is that such a bad thing?"
"No, but I am hardly ready to be married, especially to you. I don't deserve such..."
"Divinity?"
"It is not your looks that I take exception to. It is that in no machinations of the fates am I worthy of the attentions of a person such as yourself."
She smiled and sat up.
"Then you like your handiwork, but you like the person within even more?"
"I think so. I cannot bring myself to sully anyone with as much persistence and grace as you have shown in the few hours I have known you."
"I like you too Petro. May we travel together then? See what happens over time?"
"I would carry you if that proved necessary."
She grabbed her crutch and stood.
"I will move as best as I am able. If I can count on you when I need to, I truly believe I will be able to handle myself in a week's time."
I stood beside her, finding that she was now just as tall as any girl I had encountered. With her disabilities corrected she looked as normal as most, but with a countenance to die for. In the soft morning glow, I knew that I had gone too far, seeking perfection in the likes of her. I mean that in no unkind way; she was making claims on me, and I felt I had no right to do the same for her. She could have anybody. To be completely honest, she could have everybody.
She watched me watching her, and leaned on her crutch so that she could kick me in the shin.
"You could turn it back to what it was you know. I never had to look at it."
"I would sooner slit my own throat."
"Then my face stays, for I wish you no ill will, especially something self-inflicted."
"Tica, I believe we should move on. The longer I stare the more I wish to take you up on your ultimate offer."
"And that is a bad thing?"
"Right now yes. In a week; once I feel we know each other better; once we have an idea who the other person is; then I will possibly relent."
Her smile was radiant. I was just now noticing her lips; pale crescent curves of rose quartz, set into a face of alabaster. I wanted to press mine against hers, but held my resolve. A week. If I could hold out a week, there would be tales told about me by all the best bards and harpers. At least, I'd like to think so.
It was three actually.
She continued to wear her robe with the cowl up; her face shadowed inside. I was not prudish, not by any means, but I did convince her that we would suffer far less trouble on the road if people did not see her. And by we, I mostly meant her. As my feelings toward her grew, I saw that men less noble would seek to take her; in any manner they could.
That led to some unpleasant imaginings on my part.
The first week we traveled together she relearned how to walk, as she said she would. I did carry her from time to time, and even without the formidable bulk of a blacksmith, I found that she was an easy load to bear. We talked about many things, and I grew curious as to her source of knowledge. She was open about most things, but she remained a bit tight-lipped about that.
"The keeper, he is known as Darnacles; he has many books. I would steal one, read it and put it back."
"How did you learn to read?"
"Largely on my own. There was another cripple, an old man, who used to be a scholar. Like me, people ill-treated him for his looks, and looked past his keen mind. He was hit with something he called scrofula. He told me to always keep my distance."
"He was correct. It's contagious. What happened to him?"
"I found him dead one day, curled up in a back alley, covered in flies. He used to be, or so he claimed, to have been a scholar from the city of Corin."
"Corin? I've never been there. That's a capitol city and I don't know if someone like me would be welcome there."
"Why? Because you come from humble beginnings? Trust me, if making money is so important to you, that would be one of the places to go."
"Why are you so against making money?" I said with some heat. "Like it or not, it's how people make a living."
"True, but it doesn't make it more important than those things I already told you I feel are most essential. "
"Tica, as much as I like you, and as smart as you are, you have some strange ideas. Love will not feed you."
"It could, but if you wish to do things your way, I will support you in every way."
"Thank you. There are a lot of villages between here and there, and the more I think about it, there are probably a lot of people there who have defects they might wish to have corrected. Rich people tend to be pretty conceited about their looks."
My companion gave me a sour look.
"Yes, and once they see their neighbor has improved, what choice will they have but to seek you out and have you do one better?"
I sat lost in thought over that.
"You're saying that if I do this, it will only foster resentment?"
"Yes. People seem to be discontented in life if they don't have more than their fellow. I do not mind you making the money you think you deserve, but you must be careful not to sell out your ideals in doing so."
"I sense you have a solution?"
"Nothing you haven't already done. Charge those who can afford it, and then, for each one you take payment from, help someone who needs it without cost."
"I like it."
She smiled.
"I thought you might. However..."
"Yes?"
"I sense that there might be a twist in our fates."
My gut tightened up.
"Go on."
She went on to explain something I would never have considered. Strangely enough, I found her logic more compelling than any argument my masters had ever made. As we traveled, I slowly adopted her idea, until by the time we reached the ancient city of Corin, I was wearing a robe that hid my face, while she walked openly, wearing only a simple white cotton dress many of the female acolytes wore.
Oh, she also wore a gold ring on her finger too, signifying that she was a taken woman. And I suppose you need the story on that.
Fine.
As for the ring, that was easy. I fashioned one of the gold coins into it. I wrought the likeness of a double-ended branch, with the leaves meshing to signify our commitment to one another. I insisted on the ring, though we underwent no formal marriage ceremony. Such rites meant nothing in the long run, for I have heard of couples who parted ways after only a few years. I knew that if I made up my mind to be with her, it was going to last forever.
She laughed at that.
"Forever? That's a very long time. I will be content that you manage to show me now how much you feel for me in the present."
I slipped the ring on her finger.
"I feel strongly enough to grant the lady her desire."
"And do you not desire it as well?"
I touched her face, feeling a tear well up in one eye.
"Of course I do. Do you think I rein in my passion for any reason but..."
"But?" she asked with a sly look.
"Love. I think I fell in love with you that first night. But I was not raised a fool. My masters told me to stand away from a situation I did not understand and observe it for as long as was practical. I think they meant that when dealing with an adversary though and not with a potential partner."
Tica blushed.
"Then you are as noble as I thought, if a bit pragmatic when it comes to emotional matters."
"Maybe. Would you not rather lose your innocence to a noble man?"
She wrinkled her nose at my words.
"I could have done that weeks ago. My eyes were never dim to the fact that you are worth more than all of the gold in the world."
What does a man say to that?
He keeps he mouth shut and embraces the woman who is a goddess to him, knowing that he is the luckiest man in all of the kingdoms. I loved her in part for the looks I gave her; I'll not lie about that. Any man who says looks don't matter is either blind, lives in the darkness or is delusional. I have to admit, openly and honestly, that if I had seen her along the road prior to me getting to know her, I would have passed her by without another glance.
Knowing her as I did then, those three weeks later, I found that the masters had failed me in more than one subject. Looking past the surface to see within was as important as any of the spells they had tried to teach me. One's status had nothing to do with who they were. I should have known this from my childhood, but when you are young your perception is that of a child. I was hardly to the age of being considered wise, but I was going to be merged with one who was. I envied her for that. She had the forbearance to explain to me why this or that idea was misguided. She never told me I was wrong, only that I wasn't seeing the bigger picture. She had plenty of time to observe mankind, and she had a feel for how they acted. I guess when no one pays you not even the slightest bit of attention, they forget you exist.
Over time, I grew to see matters as she did, and I looked on my fellow man a little more cautiously, but at the same time, a little more kindly.
I'll not be condescending and say that it was simply easier to accept her advice. But I will say that her advice was often right on the mark and I suffered the few times I didn't adhere to it. She continually amazed me with the sharp mind she had in her head. As the old bards once coined; she was one in a million.
Oh, and before I move along with my story, I'm sure you'll want to hear about our first time together. Normally, I would be too much the gentleman to describe such things, but as she is very open about what a natural thing it is, I have found it in my heart to present it to you. I may allude to more at a later time, but for now, I hope you will be content with this.
We were traveling remember, and thus our options where both wide open, and rather narrow. We could spend the money on a room, and while there was an appeal in that to me, she was more towards sleeping out in nature.
She said she felt more at home there, having spent a goodly portion of her existence hiding in the garden back where we had met. I was not averse to being out in the open except during stormy weather, when I would have much preferred to be indoors. She would, at such times, find us a large payong tree to shelter under, which I told her was a not a good idea. I had seen what the lightning from the sky could do to trees, but she said that if that were the case, we would be together in the afterlife, so what was my worry?
Love makes you a fool, but a happy fool. A very happy fool.
Our first time was under one such tree, during a storm that blew in from the west and that went far to alleviate a mild drought. She started it all by removing her robe (she was still wearing it then) and dancing among the raindrops. I wasn't as unabashed as she was when it came to expressing an oneness with the world. I still felt a bit more removed from it; a result I think of being different from most of my peers I suppose. Call it snobbery if you will, but there you have it.
Oh, I envied her for her simple ways, but I was loath to adopt them.
Given time, this too changed. Today was my first lesson in getting back to the basics.
She danced, face uplifted to the darkening sky, twirling and swaying, looking every bit as though she were trying to catch each and every raindrop on her skin. Her hair, now much more exotic in appearance with the tangles and burrs removed, flowed around her head in a halo of wetted wonder. Droplets sprayed off the tips and continued on their way to the ground, as if undisturbed by their brief encounter.
I might have magical power inside of me; she on the other hand was magical to watch. And it had a power over me like nothing else ever had.
Her hands wove in the air as she moved to a melody only she could hear. Her hips undulated like the waves of the sea, and her buttocks were a mesmerizing pair of pale mounds that held my attention only long enough for her to turn. Then my eyes were torn between staring at her upper torso or her lower. Both held equal fascination for me. Her chest was not overly endowed (for I had refrained from ever touching it that first night), which one might excuse for her lack of nutrition in her early life. Even now, after three weeks of good eating and a healthy routine of activity, she had only just begun putting a little more flesh on her frame. She had put it on just where it flattered her the most. She looked every part the model for the statue back at the garden, only with much more vivacity than stone could ever achieve.
"Petro! Come join me!" she called between fits of joyous laughter.
"I'll get my clothing wet!"
"Not if you remove it! Come! Join with me in the rain!"
I hesitated for only a moment. We were far from any village, and a storm like this saw all sensible people indoors. I didn't wish to be scandalized, even out here, but her attitude was so inviting I finally saw fit to doff my clothing, secure it in the crook of the tree, and head out to accompany her in her frolicking.
The rain hit my head, ran down my neck and shoulders, soaking me within seconds, it was that torrential. It would have been impossible to see were it not for the pale light from the setting sun. Even now, it was growing blacker, with the clouds blocking what little sun remained.
She held out her delicate hand for me to grasp, which I readily took in mine. She swung me around and nearly off of my feet in one swift movement. Mud splattered against our legs as she fiercely gripped my hands and twirled us in the midst of the downpour. She was so merry that one could not help but be drawn in by her levity. I picked up the rhythm of her impromptu dance and we pelted pell-mell around the meadow.
How she did not collapse from sheer dizziness I will never know, for I did and she fell with me, but obviously only to accompany me to the ground. Lucking, we fell atop of thick expanse of browned moss, protecting us from landing in the rising water and cushioning our fall. She kissed me deeply, and I found that I could fathom no reason not to return her affection.
So I did.
It was the first real intimacy between us since I had transformed her from the sad cripple she had come to me as; to the fantastical creation I had morphed her body into. I had kept my hands where I thought they belonged and that was to myself. Tonight the situation altered as we entered the next level of our relationship.
Her lips were like none I had ever pressed mine against. There was a wickedly delightful animation to them, and not a mere buss that some girls gave you. Her mouth was fired by desire and her passion ebbed over into me. I could feel her tongue slip across my mouth and I opened and met it with my own. I could feel shivers running through me, and it had nothing to do with the cool rain that saturated my skin.
She maneuvered our writhing forms until she was on top. I hardly noticed. I was enraptured with the fierceness of her passion and the expressiveness of her body. I think that she may have been enthralled by her simple ability to use it as it was meant to be used; whole and complete and honed to perfection as it was.
I could feel her breasts, slight though they were, slipping across my moisture-laden chest, and I found the sensation to be enchanting. They too had filled out a little as time had passed; the effect I feel of having a decent and regular diet. She had come far in the passing weeks, and while I had noticed, only now did I become aware of the remarkable change in her body.
I took the liberty of allowing my hands to explore it, and she was open to having me do so. Recalling her frailty of before, I found her to be as solid and complete as anyone could ask for. Her spine, running wet with rivulets of rainwater, was as straight and as perfect as could be. Her ribs, while palpable under her skin, were far enough underneath it to feel the fine muscle that overlay them.
She withdrew from my lips and, propped upon her arms, peered down to look at me in the thin light that remained. I smiled and moved my hands to her chest, lightly touching the small pale nipples that topped each breast. She undulated under that caress and as I moved my hands lower, she moaned, so quietly in was nearly inaudible.
I rested my hands on the crest of her hips, wondering if I dared to do more. She, sensing my hesitation, said no word, but slid herself over my hardened rod and answered the question for me. It was an unexpected thrill when she did, for while I have been with a number of girls, she was by far the most enthusiastic and daring. She knew what it was she desired, and she had no hesitancy in going after it.
Her insides had not been cooled by the rain, though the moisture within was a certain contender for matching that driving down upon us. Her insides were as hot as they were inviting, and they were as snug as they were intriguing. All this I thought upon later; at the time I was simply engulfed with a raw awareness of what a wonderful creature had come into my life.
I knew I deserved her not one iota.
Yet here she was.
I am no fool, having been schooled in the ways of the physiology and anatomy of men and women. I heard wives' tales about losing one's virginity. Tonight there would be no evidence of it, for it was taken away by the water. But the memory of our first time would remain engrained in my head until my dying day.
She was glorious, if that doesn't sound too pompous of me. She was as alien and exotic as any female I had heard tell about in my travels, and even more so due to the fact that she was real. No bard would have dared compose a romantic encounter of this magnitude without fearing derision from his audience, for they would all know that such depth of feeling could never be found in real life.
I reveled in it, for I knew at that moment that I had somehow become the luckiest man in ten kingdoms.
She sat up, her hands behind her head, and her hips jerking in a rhythm that seemed preternaturally precise. If I didn't know better, I would have thought her much more experienced than she was. Either she had lied about that, or her secretive observations in the garden had been more educational than I had given them credit for. There was more to learning than reading about it in a book, even I knew that.
I was learning a lifetime's worth of erudition at the moment.
This girl was no girl.
She was as much a woman as any female had the right to be.
She carried on like she was part of the storm, crashing down upon me like claps of thunder. The darkness overtook us, but I needed no sight for this performance. And yet, the flashes of lightning that preceded each clap illuminated her outline in a white fire that highlighted every detail. It was, in those moments, that she looked the most like the sculptures I had stolen her likeness from.
She truly was my goddess, sculpted from a mythological image into something of immortal beauty. I had overstepped my bounds and I was very glad I had.
As she carried on with her sensual massage of my midsection, I felt the rise inside me that foretold of a coming release. I had quelled my impulses up to this point, and they were now prepared to make themselves known. I fought them down, wishing to relish this moment for as long as was humanly possible. I remembered my first time, with a little thing named Orial, and this had already eclipsed that memory and we weren't even finished yet. I wasn't about to spoil it by coming too soon.
She felt me tighten up. Leaning down, she lowered her body to rest on mine, kissing me ever so deeply. I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed her tightly, pressing her delightful body against mine in a loving embrace. Her legs clamped against me, and she resumed her movements in a more muted fashion. It was as if she understood what was going on inside me, and she attempting to assist with my temporary reluctance. She spoke no words; she simply changed her actions to something less intense, but equally as erotic.
We carried on this way for who knows how long. The rain did not abate during that time, nor did our passion. When I did finally allow myself the joy of sweet release, she joined me in a fury of aggressive hip jerks that splattered mud in all directions. When we were done, she collapsed atop me in a heap; her breath coming in raspy fits; her hair across my face and shoulders, and her warmth driving away the impending chill.
When we awoke, it was not until the sun was far enough in the sky for the light to touch us with warm, questing fingers. She still laid there, a sleeping beauty upon my chest, her light tickles of breath stirring the now dried hairs of my chest. I lifted an arm, in part to get the tingles to go away, and in part to see how filthy we had made ourselves. The arm was as clean as the day I was born. She squeaked a little as she awoke, then lifted up and stared me in the face.
There was a wondrous smile there.
"Was it worth the wait?"
"It was. You are too."
She smiled, wrinkled her nose, and kissed me.
"Wisdom is many things to many people. Waiting to take something already given to you might not be considered one of them."
I tickled her ribs, making her squirm and giggle.
"When you feel you do not deserve it, then it is wisdom of the highest order to make sure you are worthy of it."
"And are you?"
"No. But it would be folly not to accept what is freely given, as you say. I have found that I love you."
"And I love you. Is there more to be said than that?"
There wasn't.
We made love every night after that, with the exception of when we stayed in inns or private residences. She seemed more modest in the company of our fellows than she was in the wilds. I did not fault her nor did I mind the reprieve. Those were the times I managed to catch up on much needed sleep.
Don't judge me; she wore me out!
As I said, by the time we reached Corin, we had switched our clothing arrangement to leave her out in the open. You may see this as recklessness, and initially it was, but in the end it worked out rather smoothly.
The first hitch, which for me was an I-told-you-so-moment, was when we were followed out of one of the villages by a few ill-advised ruffians. I carried a staff with me, taking on the part of a cripple, though I was nothing of the sort. No one ever saw my face, leastwise not fully on, but they seemed all the more willing to come to me with their problems. It made me be a little more on their level; not a perfect specimen, but one willing to lend a hand. And since my prices were minimal and my attitude friendly (not to mention my wife/assistant who blew everyone away with her looks), I managed to do a brisk business.
We were outside of the village, camped alongside a stream, when the three found us. I'll not bother you with the coarse language or the open threats of harm, especially directed towards my wife. Seeing as they carried knives, I was plotting out my next course of action when Tica slipped off her dress. I wasn't about to allow her to debase herself just for our protection but she moved with a graceful purpose that I was lost in watching her actions instead of preventing them. All eyes were upon her, and one of the thugs actually drooled.
She minced up to him, smiled seductively and in a split second of dexterous footwork, put her toes into his crotch. He went down with a howl. She turned and in a feverish display of agility, took out the other two in quick order. I was barely on my feet when she stopped, scarcely panting. The three men were writhing on the ground, screaming epitaphs and grasping their pained parts. She smiled at me and I raised my eye brows back at her. My words were measured.
"Remind me to never make you angry."
"I will take no offense at anything you say or do, as long as you do it with a clear conscience. These men; these men have no scruples. These are the kind the world despises, for they build up nothing. They only try to take what is not theirs."
I pushed the button on the side of my staff. A blade dropped and locked at the narrow end.
"Do you wish me to dispatch them?"
I would have, had she asked it. I was still seeing the horrible things they intended to do in my mind's eye.
"No. I believe in life. That is what I like to think I am all about. I feel that they may have learned their lesson. If not, then it will be for someone else to impress that lesson more harshly upon their limited intellect."
I stood over the first man, the blade still evident. I pointed it at his face, then to his privates.
"The lady is kind. Too kind. If it were up to me, you would lose that which you value so highly."
I took the tip of the blade and made my point all too clear. Then I walked away. She slipped on her dress and we turned and left that area, walking on through the late hours under the glow of the full moon. We weren't frightened; we also weren't stupid. Those thugs just might decide to recoup their losses with another attack, and we intended to be nowhere in the vicinity for them to find us. We had proven that we were capable of handling ourselves just fine, but I felt no desire to shed blood where it was not necessary.
We were a little more cautious after that, though we never did have any additional trouble of note. A demonstration during our visits of the hidden blade inside my staff seemed to be enough to deter any potential danger, though of course Tica was the one they really needed to be wary of. Then again, that would have taken an exhibition and that was not going to happen. A quiet visit through these small communities was all we really desired.
I did mostly the usual performance, mending and repairing, but nothing related to disabilities. It dawned on me; and Tica reluctantly agreed, that doing that would attract a lot of attention. Maybe in the bigger city this would be acceptable, but out here, right now, it might not prove to be a good thing. As if to make my case, one cripple came and sat next to me as I mended his cane. He admired my staff even as he watched me mend his broken one.
"Oi! Ya got yerself a lovely stick to walk with. Too bad ya couldn't fix yerself as easily. But then, no one would have pity on ya and throw ya coins."
I growled a little as I spoke.
"I have a talent and a trade. I have no need for charity."
"Aye, that ya do and that ya don't. I ain't happy with me shape, but I don't have to toil so I guess I'm happy enough."
I had never considered that some people might accept their condition as a boon rather than a bane.
Tica had been glad to be rid of it, and I had supposed that others would as well. Human nature was not always how I thought it should be.