Zion: Light of the New Moon Part 2, Ch 1.5 Myre
Zion - Light of the New Moon, Part 2 Chapter 1.5
Myre Tormented
With two votes, a post involving Keeland and Cornelius has been chosen for the final portion to chapter 1. Based on the decisions the group has made this Chapter, the modifiers they will receive are ++ Delay, + Danger, and - Luck, but this is still subject to change based on future decisions.
Sergeant Keeland Reilly let out a long sigh, his aching muscles protesting painfully as he slowly unlatched the straps on his armor. It had been a very long, very tiring day and, despite the answered prayers and divine empowerment, the shepherd was still very tired. Outside near the fire, Josh was serenading those in the party who hadn't gone back to their tents. The bottles of wine someone had saved from the wayside were open and long-since emptied. Though the Sergeant was not usually one for drinking he didn't mind a few swigs when it was his turn.
Keeland winced, reaching for the latch on his back between his shoulder blades. "Commander Loughlin is over fifty... you don't have age as an excuse, Sergeant." he scolded himself, reaching back with more will until his fingers caught hold of the latch.
"Good evening, Sergeant." the smooth greeting causing Keeland to stop mid-stretch, "Donning and doffing armor is never easy to do by yourself... like many things in life, it is much better if you can find an extra set of paws."
"H-hello... Captain." Keeland replied, turning to look at the white shepherd who lingered at the tent flap to his pavilion. Cornelius had a long-tunic on, latched at the waist with a fine-looking leather belt. "You're welcome to enter." the brown dog invited courteously.
Cornelius ducked down around the flap to Keeland's tent, unlooping the string around the hook that held it open, and made his way over to the guardsman, "Turn around... I can assist you."
"Thank you." Keeland acknowledged, about-facing to give Cornelius access to the buckles.
The white shepherd began undoing the buckles holding Keeland's armor in place, unlatching one, then another, and another before sliding it free and setting it off to the side. "You are a boon to your fellow travelers, Sergeant, cool under pressure, skilled in the ways of the blade, and devout in your prayers to the Goddess." Cornelius began unlatching Keeland's lower body armor.
"You make it sound like you had nothing to do with our victory, Captain." Keeland chided, his tail wagging slightly at the praise.
"We all play our parts, Keeland." the white-furred shepherd replied, unlatching the final buckle before sliding the leg armor off of the Sergeant, "And please, you may call me Cornelius."
Keeland flicked one ear back, and then the other, turning to face the Captain, "I don't mean to be disrespectful... Cornelius..." he paused, regarding the Moon Pelted commander, "but there are things about you that do not entirely fit my concept of a..." he paused, eyes drifting around the tent as he searched for the right word, "Myrenese Citizen."
Cornelius nodded thoughtfully, "Then it would not surprise you to learn that I was not born in Myre." it was a comment as much as a question.
"The Waysides are still Myrenese in allegiance." Keeland pointed out, "But, no... you have a different feel to you."
The white-furred Shepherd chuckled, and began loosening the leather strips that held the sergeant's under-tunic closed, "It may be the accent... it is something that most identify about me first." he acknowledged.
"There's that..." Keeland acknowledged, "but other things as well... very few superior officers of mine have ever liked being called by name." the brown shepherd stood obediently while Cornelius pulled the tunic off and carefully folded it.
"There are two things wrong with that suggestion." the white-furred shepherd noted, gently resting the tunic on the cot before looking back to Keeland, "First, only those who question their power feel the need to express it over and over again with titles. And second..." Cornelius moved closer, tracing one of the many scars on Keeland's torso, "Just because someone is a higher rank, does not make them superior."
Keeland failed to fight down the shiver as the white shepherd's finger traced the jagged line of the scar across his ribs, "I got that in training... the military wanted to see how well I'd do mounted with a lance." his ears reddened a little as they drooped in embarrassment, "Not so well, apparently."
"Mmm..." Cornelius acknowledged, adding his other paw to Keeland's body, the back of it brushing across a long gash above his navel, "And this one?"
Keeland closed his eyes, forcing his body to calm as the white shepherd's touch elicited another shudder from it, "First year out of training I got between two men fighting at a bar... one of them had a knife."
"I see." the Captain acknowledged, moving closer until they were almost nose-to-nose. Cornelius brought a single finger to trace the line of a furless scar that stretched from right below Keeland's left eye and down to his lip, "What about this one?" the white shepherd inquired.
The guardsman fought back the urge to press his muzzle into Cornelius' touch, uncomfortable with the effect the Captain had on him with nothing more than a few words. Still, he had no problem answering the question, "My first time fighting bandits... third year as a guardsman and after my first promotion." he explained, "It would have been deadly if I didn't have my helmet on."
"Of course." Cornelius noted simply, and his other paw nimbly slid around the sergeant and undid the leather strap holding up his breeches. Keeland stood perfectly still as his trousers dropped to the ground, leaving him completely naked in front of the Captain, "Your body is full of stories, Keeland... I can see that."
"Each wound was taken in service to Myre." the brown furred shepherd replied, still standing neutrally, unwilling to stop the Captain from exploring him, "I wear them proudly."
"You will have more before this journey is over." Cornelius noted, "More medals to show off."
"I..." Keeland paused, his tail almost tucking, "...don't often share them with others."
Cornelius' ears went up at that and his gaze rose to the brown shepherd's eyes, "Then I am all the more grateful that you are so compliant to my questions." the Captain smiled warmly, caressing the side of Keeland's face, and the sergeant felt immediately embarrassed when he did lean his head into the touch.
"Why did you want to stay in the Wayside?" Keeland spoke up. The question caused Cornelius to pull back as he was addressed.
"It was my station..." the white shepherd stated, "I had made an oath to protect its line and keep it in-the-right." he let out a sigh, "I would have stayed, but when I saw the importance of your task and what your success or failure would mean to the Empire of the Moon, I realized that I had failed in my duty long before that night."
"Empire of the Moon?" Keeland inquired, not having heard talk of the empire anywhere outside of history lessons, but he focused on something else instead, "What do you mean failed before that night?"
"A tree, Keeland," the white shepherd said, slowly undoing the belt that held his robe shut, "is dead long before it falls to the forest floor... so too are many institutions, households, lines of nobility... and Waysides." Cornelius turned around, opening his robe before taking it off and carefully folding it. The captain set it next to Keeland's armor.
"How long have you been a soldier, Cap-- Cornelius?" Keeland inquired, remaining right where he'd been standing. His eyes lingered on the perfect form of Cornelius Cymbelline. The white shepherd's body was the perfect build for a field soldier; it was muscular but trim... strong but sleek. What particularly surprised Keeland, however, was that he didn't see a single war wound on it.
"I served Attood Keep for more years than I would care to count." Cornelius explained. He let out a deep sigh, lowering his head, back still to Keeland.
The brown shepherd crept closer, resting a paw on the unmarked, pure, white fur of the Captain's back, "And... you fought?"
"Often." Cornelius acknowledged.
"You..." Keeland paused, "...haven't had any wounds?"
Cornelius chuckled, "On my back? No..." he slowly turned to face the brown shepherd, paw resting on his chest as if taking an oath, "I would never flee in combat, and I always fought at the front of my men... there is no way a foe could strike me from behind."
The sergeant fought to keep his gaze toward Cornelius' face. The Captain's body was a work of art, chiseled and formed, sculpted within an inch of perfection and it was all the guardsman could do to keep from taking it all in... but the one thing that was consistent: Cornelius was unscarred.
"Haven't you ever been hurt?" Keeland questioned, hesitantly reaching out slide his paw across one of the Captain's shoulders.
"Many times." the white shepherd responded, an almost otherworldly sadness in his eyes at the admission.
"Wounds?" Keeland pressed, "Scars?"
"One." acknowledged the Moon Pelted shepherd, and he slowly removed his paw, revealing a deep, jagged scar across his chest.
"...Goddess..." murmured the sergeant, taking a step back.
"We are not all as proud of our wounds as you, Keeland." Cornelius explained, "This wound is one of failure, and you are the first to see it in..." he lowered his head, "...a long time."
"What... happened?" the brown furred shepherd inquired, taking a step closer and reaching out with his paw toward it. There was something about the open intimacy he shared with the Captain... something about Cornelius Cymbelline himself... Keeland found it almost hypnotizing... mesmerizing... something to obsess over.
Cornelius reached out and took hold of Keeland's paw, stopping it from touching the wound, "I received it when the woman I loved was taken from me."
The one comment snapped the sergeant out of the spell Cornelius' presence had woven over him, "...your... wife?" the sergeant forced the word out.
"No..." the white shepherd smiled patiently, "My mother." he explained, "My siblings and I were young... we could do nothing to stop what happened."
Keeland swallowed down a sour ball of regret in his throat; he already missed the giddy warmth of what almost felt like seduction... it had been so long since anyone had looked at him the way he had thought Cornelius had done... since anyone had touched him or caressed him or taken the time to patiently undress him... make him feel wanted... needed... "I'm sorry..." the brown shepherd murmured.
"Do not be." Cornelius smiled calmly, "It was long ago... and, as is my way, I have never given up hope."
"Hope for what?" Keeland asked, eyes once again trailing up to Cornelius' face. Moving his gaze from the ground was a hard one; every inch of the white-furred shepherd's body begged to be stared at for hours, but Keelad wasn't about to hold a conversation without meeting the Captain's gaze.
"That everything will yet be made right." Cornelius noted enigmatically... the final mysterious comment needed to make Keeland weak in the knees. The first touch from the white shepherd as he drew near caused each strand of fur to stand up on the sergeant's body; the second touch took his breath away; the third touch made him shiver, and Cornelius also spoke the words, "But worry not about tomorrow... or yesterday, Keeland... for now... let us live in the moment."; every touch that followed did even more.
* * * * * *
Chapter 1 of Part 2 of Zion concludes for Myre.
The winning votes were a tip of the hat to Cornelius and Keeland... let's see what happens, shall we?
NON-Contributing Readers may now elect which of the following be granted to Myre:
1) +1 Favor 2) +1 Luck 3) - 1 Danger 4) +1 Willpower to all characters!
Please have your vote posted here by Friday, December 2nd! All readers, also keep an eye out for the upcoming journal!