FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

I watched her, when she thought no one was watching.

Her hair fell from her shoulders, and her body moved in a dance I had never once witnessed her move through before me or any other. Her fur was moving through the sunlight, even with the sprinkles of rain wettening the air outside and kissing her snout. She moved with an undulation of her tail and leapt ray of sunlight to ray of sunlight with a look of joy pouring from her face. She was radiant, and greeted the rise of the sun with such happiness, my heart panged for a moment, in confusion.

I had woken early to my bed empty, and the sun having not yet lifted. Ordinarily I would not have paid much heed, but the aches of battle, and my face, kept me from falling back into the dark of dreams. But the sound of feet in the room across from me gave a whisper, and I turned, to look at a door cracked, and the sight of the sky beyond turning a heated pink.

The sun was rising in the distance, the clouds dispersing slowly, but the rain would not be denied, and I wondered for a moment, as the clouds began to cover the sky again, to hide the brightness, only for the sight of my slave, my Belladonna, suddenly appear, and greet the few rays of sun. And then, to my supririse, she began to sing.

I had heard her tongue before, the old and whispery voice of singing that gave me a heated quiver of the chest. I sat up in my sheets, and approached the door, intent to ask, before the sun grew high, and a ray of light fell brilliant upon her, and she began to dance, and not the dance of the rain, the dance of the wind, it was the dance I had never seen. And I was transfixed, as the heavens focused upon her, and the sun filled the room.

And so she danced. She danced with a warmth spreading her face, a joy filling her heart. She danced with an endless smile crossing her face, filling her being. She moved with movements quick and free, and unconcerned with the continuity of anything but now. Her body was single, whole, and joined in what I found to be a worship of the sun, and more, the worship of life and being alive.

But she saw me, and stopped. She saw me, ears going pale, and the sunlight receeding slowly from the room, and I felt my blood cold, as though I had broken into the secret chamber of the Holy Temple, and witnessed the secret rites of the highest clergy. My mouth was dry and cotton, and my body shivered from a cold deep inside, and I wanted to feel that heat again. M hand rested on the edge of the door, as I pushed it open, slowly, and let it creak.

"Good morning, Master." She spoke. "You are up early. Do you wish for-"

"I've never seen you dance like that." I said, cutting her off. I stepped into the room, feeling the lingering heat that was slow to leave. I reached, feeling the stone near the grand balcony window, and drew my hand back in surprise. It was still warm. "What were you doing here?"

She looked up to me, her dark eyes filled with lingering warmth. I faced her fully and saw her heave a breath, as though about to get busy for a burden, and she bowed her head, for a second.

"I was praying to my God."

I considered that, and leaned back to watch the light fade from the room. I gave a slow shake of my head, then entered in fully. My body ached from the battle the day before, and I longed for the comfort of someone beside me. I stepped to her, and put my hand upon her shoulder, and looked into those eyes. Her nicked ear twitched while she raised her eyes up to mine.

"I have never asked you about your God." I brushed her shoulder for a moment, then slid my hand down to caress her wrist, and moved over to settle down near the window, and poured myself some of the collected rain water. I loved the taste, sweet on the tongue and clearing of my senses. I breathed deep, and held the glass against my brow. I felt warmer than usual.

She settled down on the other side of the table, her hand rubbing along the bare curve of her belly, and the wrap that had helped her heal from a wicked stab. It was gray to the white of her fur, and the pink of her flesh. She sipped the drink, considering her words for a long moment, and began.

"The faith of my people has been the Companions of Heaven, the Lords of Heaven. I worship them all, but am drawn to Gundbrand, lord of the Nezumi, and Advisor to the Lord of Heavenly Council. He is the voice of the common folk, teacher of the humble, and finder of the lost. I am drawn to him for I am one of the common, and one of the lost. I was taught the faith by my Mother, before..." She trailed off, not wanting to explain what I already knew. "He commands that we pray in secret, away from others, that we might commune in meditation."

"I dance in the rain to thank him for the water that will be given to the farmers, and wash away the old and forgotten, that new life might live where the dead have gone. I dance in the morning to thank the heavens for the glorifying light, which feeds the crops, and warm the world from the shadows of the moon. I dance under moonlight, in memory that the sun will rise soon, and alight the shadows, driving away the evil that skulks, and provide mercy to the hidden prisoners in forgotten prisons. I dance so I may pray, and I dance best alone, so I might give my full adoration."

"The Companions ask we not to pray on our knees, but standing, heads bowed in contemplation. We are asked to not speak the words of our faith, but to live them, and be an example of what it means to follow the Companions and the Council of Heaven. In health and sickness, in freedom or bondage are commanded to follow the heart of our ideals, of mercy, and justice, of honor, and of loyalty, of faithfulness, and of nobility, and above all, the willingness to love. It is not an easy faith, of large fire and flame and smoke and blood, but a faith of the purifying light."

"But you've joined me in offering blood to the Storm Flame, and I've seen you prepare the oils. Why, if it is not of your faith, do those things?" I asked, my hands together over my belly, feeling a pang of morning hunger. I stood, approaching the cooking oven, and began to start the flame and begin cooking; feeling the urge to make a meal for her and myself. She rose to join me, but a glance made her sit.

"My heart is clear with Heaven, and they know my deeds are done for I am commanded by my Master, not that I choose to do them for my own sake. It would be a higher crime to not allow my lord to pray." She finished her water and glanced inquisitively at the cakes that were starting to brown. I used a flat blade to turn them over, and prepared some of the granulated sugar in a small jar, to sprinkle onto the cake for sweetness. "It is better that I serve humbly, and well before the eyes of my Gods, than I be bold before the faces of men and beast."

I finished the cakes, and tossed a line of sugar upon each, as well as a heavy slice of butter. I cooked several, perhaps more than either of us should have eaten, but there would be a day of rest for soldier and officer in face of battle, while the prisoners would be examined. I sat across from her, to share the meal, and enjoyed the company I had, while listening to her talk about her faith.

"So, you give lip service for my sake? Aren't you bothered by the sacrifice of prisoners?"

"Does it trouble you, Master?" She asked back of me.

My mouth opened to reply, then closed with a small click of my teeth. I took a bite and began to chew it, noticing I'd burned the food a bit. I carved around it and took another bite, the melted butter thick with flavor, and the sugar helping wash away the taste of ash. After swallowing, I looked down at the plate, and exhaled slowly.

"Sometimes, I wonder. Maybe, just maybe, if it'd be better to just put them to work, or ransom them off to other nations, or even sell them. Of course, I'd never challenge one of the priests, the Priests know the Gods better than I."

She broke a small smile, a warmer smile, and reached across the table to rest her hand upon my own, and squeeze. Her touch was soft, the long digits soft against my forearm. She squeezed my wrist softly as she looked in upon me, and drew my hand to her lips, to kiss my fingers lovingly. Her breath was hot, her tongue moist.

"Of course, Master, they know their Gods well. I would not presume to question a priest his faith, especially being what I am." She drew her lips free from my hand, and squeezed very softly. Her touch was soft, whispery soft, as she drew the finger tips back and away from her grip. I felt the lack of her touch as a pang, an emptiness of where she had been. I touched the table and finished my plate.

"What are you?" I asked, my voice playful, and soft. She smiled for it, looking towards the window for a moment.

"I am Faithful to my Gods, and true to their Ethos. And I am your slave, though I am not permitted to be more, for it would break the laws of your home and kingdom, and threaten all of your standings if it were to be anything more, my Master." Her finished her plate and stood, taking mine and walked to place them to soak in the gathered wash water, to better clean when the servants came to gather it. I stood up and approached her from behind, and wrapped my arms about her body, softly, squeezing her close to my hip, and my chin atop her brow. "I am yours until I die, my beloved."

Those words cut deep, a sting to my heart that made my chest throb, and feel cold. If I had it in my power, I would have said the same to her, but let myself shake it free, and drew her against me again, this time more insistently. Her voice was musical as she laughed. And then she moaned.

The noon day sun had burned away the clouds, and I walked amidst the sunlight, my hands lifted up to face the heavens, and I drew my head up, to look upon the sky. I smiled, feeling sated from the hours I had spent with Belladonna, and I walked the edge of the fortress, gathering the words of the soldiers and militia, and the whispers of the wind. I walked peacefully, and paused to watch the examinations of the prisoners, to see who would be culled and who would be taken to the stables. I smiled, watching one look away as his tail was forced to lift, and be studied for the sake of health. Others were examined, the few females given a lewd grab. She growled, and received a slap for her insolence. I grunted, but continued on.

The priests, standing in their red and gray robes, tended the fires and taught their acolytes the ways of the Storm Flame. I approached and sat down on one of the crates to observe them at work. My hands rested on my thighs. They splashed blood and oil into the fire, which lapped quicker at the offerings. The rites of after-battle offering, to thank the Gods, while several of the prisoners, Wemics who had been chosen for sacrifice to the Storm Flame. I tensed a bit, and turned my head away, as young acolytes prepared to give their first.

I closed my eyes, the scent of fear in the air, and the first cry of pain silenced into gurgles of blood. I shuddered. I would have not complained had they been simple prisoners of crimes committed, but for them to be the valiant and noble warriors who had fought against us. I could respect that death, while this suddenly felt ignoble. I tightened my hands, my heart suddenly starting to race in my chest. I pushed it down, fighting for calm, for a moment of peace. The screams felt louder to me, louder than I wanted them to be. I could have ignored a prisoner, not these death knells.

I stood, straightening my jacket and cuffs, distracting myself as a third fell. My hands tightened up suddenly as I strode forward, towards them - the fourth, the last, sobbing behind a gag. There was fear, there was youth, there was the trembles of someone who did not wish to die, not as the older three had. The priest held a blade to his throat, and I coughed once, listening to the old incantations.

"Your holiness! If I may?" I called out, breaking his concentration, and earning me a grimace of a look. But the blade was drawn away, as I circled the great fire, finding it to be cold, and came to stand beside the bound prisoner. He looked up to me pleadingly, begging me with his eyes, and I stared deep into them. He wasn't even yet a blooded warrior.

"What may I do for you, sub-Pasha?" He asked, resting the blade on the shoulder of the beast. The mane was a contrast to the red stained black dagger, a thick, chocolate brown against the tawny and golden fur. I reached out to turn the muzzle and spot the mark on his throat from the indention of the blade, and the small drip of blood.

"I have not had a chance to pick my spoils of the battle. While I would not dream of denying the Gods their sacrifice, surely the offering of the three warriors before would be enough, and not needing this sickly, young beast?" He gazed at the young male, then up at me with critical eyes, sharp eyes. "He's got a lame leg from how it's curled, and is scrawny, with barely any blood in him at all. Might I take him instead, for fair price, of course?"

The priest gave me a look, glancing between the bound captive, then at me. His face grew contemplative, and then a grin, as he slid the bloody blade into a cloth, and began to clean it. He nodded once, gesturing to me.

"Of course. Of course, sub-Pasha! Far be it for me to deny a victor his reward. Of course, the Gods do ask a small token, for if they do not get blood, they must still be appeased. I am certain you understand."

"Far be it from me to deny the Gods." They were going to gouge me for every last bit they could get for him, but the look of utter thankfulness, streaked with tears as it was, made me glad I had chosen to rescue the poor captive. I gave a grunt, and grabbed the collar and tugged, forcing the beast to follow behind me. He would be released to the stables back home for work and breeding, perhaps ransom. That would not be for a few days now, of course. "I will see you, Holy One."

I walked until I had a moment of privacy, and turned, settled, to look upon the captive. I reached in and drew the gag from his mouth, and gripped his face, hard. My fingernails dug into his cheeks as I stared at him, and exhaled out slowly. His ears twitched, looking troubled, afraid of me. I hissed through clenched teeth.

"I am Arasalan, and I am your Master. You cost me a considerable amount, and I will expect the value returned in trade, or in ransom. Do not make me regret my choice." I gripped his throat for a moment and felt the swallow, then turned. I spied one of the militia and gestured him over, and indicated him to take him to my chambers. I had to take a moment to think, and wanted to do so alone. "Tell Belladonna to prepare you for ransom, or work."

The beach was cool, with a breeze blowing across the surf, and carrying the scent of the Oceanside. My stallion ate the green plants that grew along the beach, seeming to enjoy the plants. I stood on the shore and watched the surf lap up on old stones and the ruin of a ship, which had been broken upon the rocks when the knights came to land. I left my horse and dropped, approaching the wreck, and bent down to lift a water-logged spear, and tested it's weight. It was heavy, built for the tauric figure of the Wemic, who could brace it while charging. I gave it a few swings, finding the balance off, I tossed it back onto the beach, and continued to observe the weapons - making a mental note to have the weapons collected and melted down for future use. I sighed, looking down at the wreckage of the ship and came closer, observing the great ships. The ships were beautiful, and majestic.

My bodyguards kept a distance of twenty feet from me, simply pleased to be out in the breeze and having a chance to ride. There were four of them, keeping me company, given we were still in war conditions.

I drew up another weapon near me, a blood-stained sword, and held it up to look towards the tip, then down at the head of the blade, and thrust it into the sand and water, and rested my hands on the hilt. The blade was heavy steel, a blade that one of the knights used. I lowered and bowed my head and touched it to the pommel, feeling the spirit of the blade inside. It was hungry, it enjoyed the battle, and it was a blade of an honorable knight.

"Defender, Alexander." I stroked my thumb along the etched name of the blade, and tapped it and heard it ring. I stood, drawing it up, and followed through with a few test swings, and found the blade heavy, but ready for my hand. I brought it down, the hand and a half blade lunging heavier as I fought the wind, moving the shoreline and striking readily. It held a small spark of light when I struck, reminding me of the greater blades of lore. I would not be surprised for a blessed blade to exist even amongst the Lion Knights. "I believe I shall keep you for myself, my friend."

I walked to my horse and mounted, drawing my jacket off to wrap the weapon and hold it over my thighs, and rode the beach again, the wind pushing my hair back and making me smile. I felt the freedom of the ride, the worship of the land and sky and storms. My arms fell wide as I rode on, dreaming of my ancestors, who were lords of the horse and wild plains, now forced onto the great island nation.

I rode through the shore and sand, I rode with my dreams and drew the blade from my jacket, and held it high with a laugh. My beast began to pant, but did not seem to mind the chance to run free, and together we rode, chasing the shadows and dreams and stories that were so far away. I rode high, feeling the blade calling to me, and I laughed again, fencing with the dreams and demons. I laughed loudly.

I rode for hours upon the shore, until my horse staggered and I let him rest, and dropped, to give him some water, and let him drink deeply, and saving a bit for myself. My arms were heavy with the blade, my muscles burning from using the weapon so much. I loved it, I loved how it felt in my hand, feeling just right to be used, though odd from horse back. It was not my spear and short blade, but one made do.

I sat in the grass and let the horse eat, while having some bread and jerky for myself. The sweet meat and bread tasted rather delicious, filling hunger pangs in my belly. I let myself lay out in the grass, sprawled without a care, and sighed, falling into a pleasing and happy rest.

My bodyguards rested as well, though still alert for danger.

"Move, and I kill you." The voice was a growl, and a weight rested against my throat - a sharpened blade of a great axe. My eyes jerked open to look upon a hyena-man, who glared down at me, and looked ready for an excuse to put more weight on me. I kept my hands free and wide, and swallowed once.

My guards stood to the side, three of them bound, a fourth dead upon the beach, arrows piercing his back and neck. I looked down at the party which had captured us - two of the lion knight, three hyena men, and three Daione, the strange otter folk of the lakes and rivers and shores of other lands. I kept my hands still as the blade was taken from my side, and my dagger from my hip - leaving me unarmed.

"It seems Talasid has blessed us with one of the hands of the Empire." The head lion spoke, his great mane groomed back, and the marking of leadership upon his form. One of the bastards of the lion god, I growled in my throat and tried to keep myself in check. I would not act as a beast in the presense of my lesser, ever. "Sub-Pasha, from his coat, I would suggest we take him to the ships, and interrogate him for all he knows. Perhaps then giving him to the justice of the priests, to see what should be done with this slave-keeping bastard."

"Kill him now, cut off one of the hands of the empire. He killed three knights by himself." I heard the gnoll at my front lift the axe, though ready to stab me with it. "Not worth the risk, I think. Talisid has given us this bounty, let us not abandon it."

"That's not our way, Kala. Even evil men must face the justice of the Lion, and the wrath of the heavens by their own deeds. Bind him, and send his body guards with our demands for a release of all prisoners. We will take him to the ships, and see what he knows." The captain reached down to lift me up by my jacket, and pushed it off of me, and kicked it towards the three bound guards. My hands were lashed behind me and my throat gripped, as he growled. "On your honor, and your mount, swear you will not run from us as we transport you to the ships."

"On my honor." I growled, before being lifted, my hands lashed tighter and I tied down onto the back of the armored wemic. I grunted, feeling uncomfortable at this strange mount, before being blindfolded. "I will not."

And with that, we rode.