Quiet Liason


The hour was late, the moon having already travelled through the sky as Talesma finally entered her chambers. With a quick fluid motion, the pin of her silk garments was released and it tumbled to the ground, her bare red hued skin gleaming in the candle light. She looked to the corner, in a chair in deep shadow, he sat, admiring her. His voice echoed from the shadows, a light-hearted tone, issuing from the very inky darkness. “So, Talesma, it is done. I am happy I could assist you this very night, but you did deviate from your plan, as I thought his death was to be a more, shall we say, a private affair.”

“I acted rashly, his existence could no longer be tolerated. I acted in rage for the first time in forever, and I lost control.” She said flustered, staring into the dark corner where Wailan sat. “But, I had planned even for that eventuality, if I lost control, which is why you were present, and why the salve I treated Ignus with, was in place.”

“So you used the poor man? He must be tired of woman using him as a pawn.” Wailan chuckled, leaning forward in his chair, his face appearing in the candle light, a wicked smile on his face.

“I did no such thing, the bath I prepared for him does exactly as promised, and if he continues the treatment, he will eventually see vast improvement. But, the salve I applied, might have given him a resistance from the acid. An added bonus, should he need it.”

Wailan stood up, moving closer to the tiefling woman, staring intently at her naked form. “Is that why you also seduced him?”

Talesma smirked, a wicked grin as she looked a Wailan, hunger in her eyes. “Not at all. I lay with him because he was a strong attractive man, even under those scars, and he reminded me of my lost husband. He was there. Why ignore an opportunity, when it had presented itself? Why do you ask, are you ask, are you jealous?”

Again the wry smile appeared on Wailans lips, as he took Talesma into his arms and pulled her close to him. “Hardly, should I have been there and had he been inclined, I would have also joined in for the fun of it.” He says, his smirk becoming a more wicked and devious look. “Of course. You know he fancies Mirage.”

Talesma looks guilty for the first time, but quickly stares up at Wailan. “I did not before tonight, but, now it is apparent. But, maybe, our short foray, gave him the courage to act on his true feelings and push forward.” She sighs, “Such webs we weave and tangle.”

Wailan steps with Talesma in his arms and they both fall on to the bed, his face close to hers, as he stares into her eyes.
“And you, how does it feel, his soul.” He wispers, as she stammers.

“Why?” she asks, “Why did you need the sword used?”

He looks, his visage concerned but stern. “Because Essence is alive, and needs to fed. And because, even as vile as Vahiir was, I believe he might have had some qualities your daughter could benefit from in the battles to come. Alas, instead it was you that swung the blade.” He stops and sees the confusion on her face. “You see, Essence not only feeds the wielder the soul, it traps a piece of that soul for itself as it feeds. The blade is hungry and must be satiated. The blade is very much a living thing, but it is never the same blade, as it grows with the death of each of its victims. But, it is truly dangerous when it does not feed for a while, as it will use its mental projections to slowly penetrate its wielders will to find some feast. This makes it difficult, because the blade has no feelings or attachments, and will turn the wielder’s mind, even against ally’s and friends.”

Talesma, pulls back from Wailans arms, a look of worry on her face. “Then why would you give such a vile thing to them, what purpose does it serve.?”

“It is quite literally a double-edged sword, my dear Talesma. As there are risks in life, there are risks in wielding the sword, but also, rewards. I have had flashes of fates, of minute details that it has a roll to play at the end of their great journey, and may be the only thing that can stop this catastrophe from fully consuming everything.” He sighs, and reaches up and plays with Talesma’s hair. “We all have a role to play, and I will be there watching, and I promise I will do what I can to lessen the stain on their own souls. Let me do you that kindness.”

Wailan kisses Talesma, and enfolds her. Hours later, as the sun slowly starts rising in the east, Wailan stands staring in the doorway. Flickers of shadows play against the light in his eyes as he stares at Talesma. A disturbing flash, or moment of vile hatred crosses his fate, his lips curling as he looks at the former slave whore. But, as soon as it had come, it was gone, defeated by Wailan’s formidable will. He looks down. “Oh Vahiir, you can do nothing to hurt this one or her family now. And believe me, your soul cannot taint mine, as mine is the soul of chaos, and you are just a drop of rain in it’s vast ocean.” Wailan shakes his head, a mirthful smile crossing his lips “Damn, I’m even starting to monologue to myself.” He says with a chuckle, as he walks out of the room.

Talesma sleeps, at ease, her vengeance sated, and no taint on her soul. Only the blissful and free sleep of someone who has found a small but important piece of contentment.


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