FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

A young man leaned against the stone wall, near the back of the smith's shop, watching as the smith worked, tinkering with a very small set of picks, on the young man's alluring interest over the past few weeks. A thick heavy set book, filled mostly with runes and languages he couldn't read. But, the ones that he could read, was what spurred him on to save up enough gold from his work to pay the smith to crack a seal in a section of the book.

He had found the book about a month back, left behind in the pub from some foreign traveler, from very far lands. Everything about the man told him that he was a wizard of some kind, a man who dabbled in the ancient arts. When he was cleaning the traveler's room, he discovered the book, tucked into a pillowcase on the bed. The traveler was already long gone, and, figuring it wouldn't hurt, he took it.

He soon found out that the majority of everything in the book was un-readable, but there was, oddly enough, specific sections of the book that made sense to him. He had asked others around town about it, and he found that it seemed like everyone saw different aspects of the writing differently. One part of the page he could read was just gibberish for some people, while some of the gibberish he couldn't read was read in perfect clarity by others. It was an arcane piece of work that was for certain.

But what was really special about the book was what happened when one read from the words aloud. A swirling portal of darkness opened, and through it, came a creature from beyond the world of men. Every set of words produced a different creature. The creatures were all varied in shape and size, and for the most part, very docile. He found that sometimes, spawning two creatures led to them fighting each other. And, as a form of entertainment, the book had become well known around town. He would make a bet with a villager on whose creature would win, read from the words he could make sense of and summon a creature, while likewise the participant did the same.

Eventually, the source of the fun began to run dry, as he flipped through pages, and all the available words to him and others were known. But there was one section of the book, with a heavy metal lock keeping its pages sealed. From the moment he hit that barrier, he wanted to break it. There must have been a good reason for that part of the book being locked up. He wanted to know what laid ahead in the pages beyond.

He watched eagerly as the smith toiled away, listening to the man's grumblings, as he eventually swapped for another set of picks, working on the lock until finally, it became unlatched. The smith looked up, wiping the sweat off his brows, removing a very fine tuned pair of glasses as he did so. He looked up to the young man, stroking his black soot smeared beard.

"Was a tough one that lock. More than just a regular one at that too."

The man smiled as he brought the book over.

"More than just physical protection. Someone did some fiddling with the old arts. My regular picks, slipped every time. Took out an old pair I got from a man familiar in the old arts. Worked like a charm."

The young man nodded.

"Must be something very interesting behind the lock then right?"

The smith looked skeptical.

"In what little experience I've had, a lock protecting something related to the old arts means just that my boy. But it also means you're playing with fire. Fire, while a marvelous tool, can still burn the user if they're careless, and don't respect the flame for what it is. You'd best remember that boy. Now go on, I've work to do."

After paying the smith, the young man let, eagerly heading out to his home to grab a few things. He was excited to see what was beyond the lock, but wanted to do it in a quiet place. After his first reading from the book, he had since found a peaceful spot in the nearby woods to read new passages. The first time he had discovered what the book did, things got a little, tense. A pub full of tired workers wanting to relax for the day was a bad place to summon a creature roughly the size of a horse.

The man sat across from his campfire, leaning against a large backpack full of things. He wanted to stay out here for a few days, just to take things easy. His campsite was on the other side of the forest, about a three day's journey from town. Sitting on the outskirts of the woods, he looked up to the night sky, listening to the buzz of insects, watching the cool night wind blow across the meadow he was just barely infringing on. He smelled the night air. Yes, this was the perfect place to study.

Opening the book, he thumbed through familiar pages, coming to the sealed section. With a short moment of glee, he turned the page past the lock, glimpsing the very first page past the seal. As the campfire flickered in the night, he marveled at the writing, ancient, elegant looking loops and curves, seeming to glow faintly with some unknown power in the night. None of the writing spoke to him, as he had coined it, and so, after admiring the first page, he turned it over.

He continued through pages in the night as the hours passed on, the clouds covering the moon and casting a dark blanket over the meadow. The fire he had made began fading, and even though he hated to admit it, he was starting to get tired. No page called out to him, but he had begun to notice that everyone was different. Every page's ancient writing had a unique style, a certain aura about it. It was all truly fascinating, but somewhat frustrating that he couldn't make out a single one. His eyes fluttered back and forth with the flames as they flickered and died. He looked at the flame of his dying fire. One more page. Then he'd call it a night.

He turned the page over, to a wall of gleaming, red and orange saturated writing. He blinked his eyes in surprise. The writing seemed to move, and flicker as his eyes passed over it, twisting and curling in on itself. He scanned the page, and then, to a sudden rise in him, his eyes latched on to a string of words. He looked into the words, into the heart of them as they twisted and writhed, trapped in a perpetual form. He smiled as he drew meaning from them, an idea. He looked into the flames of his dying fire, and as if in a trance, spoke the words. The language wasn't his own, but he spoke it none the less. Strange sounds passed his lips as he watched the fire burn, and mere seconds after he finished, the fire went out.

Silence filled the small campsite as darkness surrounded him, the runes of the book glowing fainter as the very last embers of the fire disappeared from existence. In the wake of silence that followed, light suddenly bloomed from the fire pit, causing him to jump. A great wall of light, burning as hot as the sun shot upwards, like a pillar of flame, and extinguished itself in the blink of an eye. The man dropped the book, as the campsite was once again brought into the light. He stared into the form of another being, as fire wove itself into shape and form, twisting and bending into the form of a woman. Ash swirled around her form, hardening into a solid looking surface, etched with lines and runes that betrayed what was underneath the surface. The final pieces fell into place, as the charred remains of semi-burnt wood floated up, to the head of the creature, forming an ornate, expansive pair of horns. Raging eyes appeared on the flawless features of its face, as flame swirled like a storm inside them. The being stepped out of the fire pit, holding her arms out, and looking to the sky above. She sighed deeply before looking down to the man. She spotted the book nearby at his feet, and reached out with a blackened hand, sharp talon like fingers extended. The book became aloft with a leap of flame, and drifted over to her hand. An ethereal voice escaped from the being, tinged in the background with the sound of a woman's voice.

"Ah yes, the book. How long it has been."

The being waved her other hand, and the young man felt something hot wrap itself around his wrists, forcefully pulling them together and upwards. He yelped in surprise, as he was hung in the air by burning shackles. The being watched him, fire igniting around her form.

"Ah such a fool, led on by the inner workings of the book, thinking you could control what you summoned didn't you? You walked right into the trap."

The man stuttered out as the bindings began to heat up, becoming quickly uncomfortable.

"What are you!?"

The being held her head back, as the swirling infernos of her eyes studied him. She laughed, in a voice tinged with the sounds of fire, the roar of a raging fire, the quiet, dying sparks of the last embers of one, mixed into the flowing voice of a woman.

"I believe the word your kind would use the word Demon. But in truth, the word means nothing. I am so much more than just that. I am life. I am death. Heat. Burning. The one thing that all life clings to in the dark, the one thing every last one of you takes for granted. I am an aspect of an element that surrounds your very existence."

The being tilted her head.

"But most of all, I have been set free! You are no "wizard," as those men would call themselves. You have no control over me."

The being almost seemed to smile.

"And bad things happen to those that aren't careful with their fires."

Flames lit up around the being, as the chains hoisted him higher. The man stammered out,

"Please, wait, don't do this!"

The being tilted her head once more, drifting as she rose ever so slightly off her feet.

"Fire has no discrimination. It burns what will burn. Expands until it is stopped. These are the rules."

The man stammered out again,

"What rules!?"

"The rules of existence."

The fire surrounding the being burned brighter, stronger, as he felt waves of heat pass over him. He had to think fast.

"What about chance!?"

The being looked taken aback, but held the growing wall of flames at bay.

"You're fast of mind aren't you? You are right, in that strange, mortal way of thinking. The chances of your shelter catching fire while you rest? The chances that you escape being burned alive? Indeed, the very chance that I wave off your petty notion and simply resume the course of nature?"

The being lowered herself back onto the ground, as the flames subsided around her. She walked over to him as he was suspended in the flame like chains. She swayed her hips as she approached slowly, looking down to his bag. With a wave of her hand the bag was incinerated, and from the ashes, metal coins were the only thing that survived. The being set down the book in its hand, letting it rest gently in the dirt, before picking up a single coin from the ashes. She looked down to the young man.

"What's the most you've ever lost from a game of chance?"

The man stammered out, almost incoherent,

"I-uh, I don't know!"

The being twirled the coin in her hand, watching as it was very slowly beginning to glow from the heat.

"I win, and your life is subject to what the flame always does. And if you win?"

The man stammered out, sweating profusely from the heat, clenching his hands as the flaming shackles singed his skin.

"You submit. You said I lacked control. So then you submit instead!"

The being watched him.

"Call it then."

"What?"

The being flipped the coin high into the air.

"I can't call it for you. It wouldn't be fair."

Things seemed to slow down as the man watched the coin tumble end over end through the air, going up, and then sinking. He watched as it fell, past the flaming visage of the beings smooth featureless face.

"Tails!"

The coin landed in the dirt, singeing it. The being bent down, picking the coin up. She looked down at the man. The shackles around his wrists dissipated as he fell onto the dirt.

"It seems that chance does indeed have a role to play for you mortal. Very well. I will submit. You may do as you please, like all the foolish men of ages past have. Do want someone, something, destroyed? Do want me to do work in a forge, creating powerful weapons fit to smite gods?"

The young man rubbed his wrists as he sat in the dirt. He was silent. It was a good question. Just what could he do, now that he had this being, this demon under control? She, or it, he couldn't tell, was nothing like the simple creatures he had summoned. She had broken all the boundaries of what every other one had followed so far. Maybe he could start there.

"I want to talk."

The demon sat on her haunches across from him.

"Philosophy then. A meaningless subject in the space I inhabit."

He shook his head.

"Not that. Answers to questions. What are you, exactly? And why was that book made? You said it was a trap."

"I am simply that which I already stated. A mere visual representation of an aspect of the reality that surrounds you."

"But you have to come from somewhere. You just don't go from being a fire to.... Whatever you count as now."

The demon was silent, the strange infernos of her eyes spiraling in the dark of the night, leaving an afterglow.

"Imagine a space. A space where all these things you mortals think of and muse about. Emotions. Elements. Colours. Spirits. Imagine a space where all these intangible, but none the less influencing forces that surround you and make you what you are, have form, and thought. They have an established presence, a definition. That is where I come from."

"And the book?"

"Mortals are drawn to what they call the old arts, magic, and many other names. Even the masters of these forces are but a simple conduit, no more than just puppets on strings for the higher forces at work. Even they do not fully understand their true workings. The book is a creation of one of these men, however ancient it is to your kind, it has yet to be fully understood. Anything in your so called old arts has some power of its own. You were simply the next in a long chain of owners, called to it by its whisperings."

The man watched as the demon's eyes were focused on his, but he was unsettled as he looked into their unending gaze.

"Hang on for a minute. Can you, change your form?"

"The force that I embody is always changing, never constantly the same. In essence, I can."

"Can you give yourself a mouth?"

The dark ashen "skin" of the demon's face shifted, until a clear pair of lips could be seen, the same glowing runes running though the dark crags. The man nodded. That was better. He didn't like looking into an emotionless face.

"Why the simple creatures? Where do they come from?"

"Other worlds, places, times. They are of mortal design like you."

"And you aren't?"

"Why do you think the section you so foolishly plundered into was protected? You stepped into the workings of forces you barely understand, and clearly cannot control."

The man smiled.

"I got you didn't I?"

The demon's brows furrowed, as a look crossed her lips.

"Do not humor yourself mortal. There is nothing currently stopping me from resuming my natural desire to fulfill what I started, but the simple agreement based around a game that delves far beyond what you think it does. Do not push your fortunes."

The man smiled. For a supposed embodiment of the aspect of fire, the demon had in a sense, quite a bit of sass. He thought very carefully on the matter at hand. Something in him wanted him to push his luck. He was always a bit of a gambler. What could he do? Something the demon would never come to expect after being summoned countless times. He smiled as he came up with an idea. He was going to pull this demon so far off her throne high in the sky. He stood up, walking over to her, but winced as she stood up with him, becoming increasingly hotter the closer he got to her.

"Can you put out the heat you make? So it doesn't burn me at all?"

The demon shifted her weight, watching as he circled her.

"You say you're not holding back apart from a simple deal right? So, if I were to, I dunno, do something to upset you in some way, you'd light up like a torch and turn me to ashes right?"

The demon simply nodded.

"See, I was doing some thinking, about all that stuff you told me about, and I got to thinking that you aren't just all about fire. You're a symbol that fire can represent. Like rage, or anger. You're red, or mostly ash, with all those funny runes, hinting at something more underneath the surface. And I think I haven't quite seen one last thing from you. But I'm pretty sure I know what it is."

The demon watched him as he pulled one of the coins he had picked up on the way over from the ash pile of pack.

"And just what would this idea of yours be mortal?"

The man waved a finger at her.

"Oh no no, not so fast. I want to make this fun. I want to make this exciting. With another wager."

The demon tilted her head.

"You would place so much faith in your chances of winning yet again?"

"You just gave me answers that some people look for all of their lives. I don't really know what to think about it all. I need something to bring me back down to my feet."

"The chances of you losing a simple game of chance that would end in your demise?"

The man nodded.

"I guess that's your wager then."

He flipped the coin up into the air.

"Call it."

The demon looked skyward.

"Heads."

The coin fell to earth, landing in the soft dirt. The young man leaned down to pick it up, wiping sweat from his brow. He held it up to the light the demon generated, showing her.

"Phew. Was a close one, I think."

The demon tilted her head as the young man smiled.

"Guess I'm lucky tonight. I didn't make my wager, but I will now. I want you to dance."

The demon squinted her eyes.

"Dance?"

"Yes. A dance."

"Very well then mortal. A dance you will have."

The crowd around the table looked in awe at his story telling, silent as he paused to catch his breath. A younger boy at the table was quick to speak up.

"What happened then mister?"

The man smiled.

"I made another bet with her."

The table looked shocked. Surely he couldn't win three tosses in a row. The man chuckled.

"The bet was different. She wagered not to take my life. Me, being ever the fool, and star struck by her dazzling performance, agreed."

The crowd around the table held their collective breaths.

"I lost."

The young boy that had taken to speaking the crowds' thoughts spoke up once more.

"Gosh mister, you don't seem dead to me. What happened?"

The man chuckled.

"She burnt down the forest instead. My village was caught in the blaze as well. Let me tell you the smith was none too happy."

The crowd winced silently.

"I was practically going to be strung up when the very same man who I'd "borrowed" the book from strode on in. Things went from there. He ended up being my teacher."

The crowd nodded, clapping their hands in applause. The man looked around at the crowd, smiling.

"Which brings me to me last, and final point."

The crowd around his table slowly grew silent.

"I'd like my book back. I know one of you in this very crowd was the one who took it."

The crowd grew completely still as an unease washed over everyone there.

"Although my tale is one for campfires, I was immensely foolish. And nearly paid for it multiple times. Don't let the same fate befall you, or something worse."

Sure enough, the one he suspected all along, very slowly, and very sheepishly held the ancient book out to him. It was the young lad who had voiced the questions of the crowd. He nodded.

"There's a good lad. I thank you for your honesty."

He looked around to the crowd.

"Now begone. Story time is over."

The crowd grumbled, dispersing slowly, as he got up from his comfy wooden seat. He paid for his meal, and headed out the door into the cool night. The young boy followed him out the door.

"Hey mister! Was that all true?"

He turned to the boy.

"Every last word of it kiddo."

"Did you ever see the lady in the fire again?"

The man thought back to older memories. Indeed, it was a long time before he ever laid his hands on that book again. But the day came when he no longer needed a mentor. And his teacher trusted him to protect it as he grew old and frail. He smiled.

"A few times. My teacher always said, the first one you ever summon that tests your power and all the notions you had about the book, will always be your favorite. He was not wrong."

The young boy looked up into the evening sky as the man stepped out from the cover of the great wooden deck of the tavern.

"Did you ever find out what the lady in the fire really was?"

The man nodded, smiling once more.

"That I did. But, that is something you will understand with time. Fire is a great many things. It is more than just an element that burns and destroys."

He tightened the straps of his pack, stretching.

"See you around kiddo."

He left the tavern, making for the town gates as the sun set.

The man traveled along the road for a great many miles, eventually traveling off the beaten path, into the deep woods. He had little to be frightened of. The teachings of the book would always guide him along. He traveled into the thick ancient trees, eventually finding a small clearing. This would do nicely for the evening. The man dropped his lantern and pack, and, looking around for a small branch, he held the lantern up to it, before tossing it onto the forest floor. Fire spread among the dead leaves and branches, and, staring into the heart of the growing flame, the man uttered the words he had long since memorized.

Just like the very first time he had one it, the slender form of a woman took shape from the fire and ashes, as the inferno of her core was covered up by the black ashen skin etched with ancient runes. Her large crest like horns floated into place, as she stepped out of the small fire, snuffing it out in her wake. The man was sitting down on the forest floor, watching the spectacle as if it was the very first time. All these years and it still never lost its appeal. The demon's eyes found his, as a smile creased her lips.

"My, it has been some time. The years haven't been kind to you have they?"

The man nodded.

"I'm only a mortal. What were you expecting?"

The demon floated above the ground gently, looking at the shadowed, ancient tree trunks around her.

"Such a dangerous place for one such as me. But I'm sure you already know that."

The man smiled.

"Some child stole the book from me. I figured it was him and lured half the town to hear my tales at the tavern. I don't want to imagine what would have happened if he could make sense of the writing and pulled you through."

The demon swirled around on gentle pillar of fire.

"I'm sure you already have some idea."

The man stood up to his feet, approaching her.

"Well, I guess I do. But I know you aren't all about destroying things. Then again, it took a long while to prove my last theory."

The man approached her, unafraid of the heat she naturally generated, and felt it die down as he stepped close. He extended his arms out, pulling her close as she drifted back down to the ground. He looked into the infernos of her eyes as he drew himself closer.

"It just took you some time to show your secret."

The demon smiled.

"You just needed to look harder."

The demon leaned forward, pressing her ashen lips to his in an act that had long since become known between the two. By most standards, ash and fire didn't taste very good. But the form the demon had chosen had no physical meaning, and therefore, none of the things that came with it. But, what she had, was the fact that she was energy in physical form. And the last mystery he had worked so hard to discover was revealed in her actions.

Fire often spread quickly unless something put it out. And, often, things escalated quickly, the feeling and weight behind everything as he held the kiss, the sensation of things beginning to stir and burn as they would soon spiral out of control. There was heat, there was passion, alive and flowing, as she held the embrace with him, the very way she chose to keep her lips at just a certain angle, overlapping his as a bright tongue mingled with his, and then, he pulled away. The very act of disconnecting from the feeling left him dizzy, with stars in his vision, like it always did.

He smiled as he sat down. The experience always left one a little tired. But it was his way of preparing for what would inevitably come next, now that the fire was started. He was in control now, but the truth was, for these special moments, he let her go. She could burn and destroy in those moments. But now that things had started, there were more important things at hand. And sure enough, as he laid back against the ground, the familiar feeling returned to him as his clothing started to burn, flaking off in black cinders as it was all stripped away.

He watched, as every last shred of what he wore burned away, leaving nothing. The demon strode over to him, flames dancing and flickering around her in swirls. He had always liked her shows. Watching the fire arc and twist around her, much like a dancer would. She stepped over top of him as her flames died down once more, so that all he could feel was a gentle warmth. She laid down over top of him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he stared once more into those startling eyes of hers.

Every moment spent close to her was one of danger, but also pleasure. She embodied passion, a fire, a growing lust, and when aroused, spread that fire. But the danger that came with her was the fact that at any moment if she lost control, her very real fire could burn. Over the years he admittedly had some experiences with this. But as laid over top of him, pressing her generous body against his, extending a long tongue that traveled over his chest and eventually back up into his eagerly awaiting mouth, the risk was worth it. The warmth she emanated made him feel completely safe in her arms, as he instinctively began to roam his hands across her backside, feeling her black, ashen skin, the warm ancient runes all over her body that hinted at her core deep inside.

She had told him once that their forms were based off the subconscious of the one who allowed access for them to cross the planes between realities. And, over the years, this held true. Her form was always the same, so lithe, agile, generous curves in all the right places. It was only now that he could truly appreciate the inner workings of his mind as he ran his hands across her arched back, feeling the perfect curve all the way down to her backside, where things were just as nice.

The Demon had a growing aura of fire and light around her as he persisted in exploring, feeling the taught tightness of her ass, and roaming down one of her legs which she had pulled up over his waist. Every action of his sparked a reaction from her that was slowly beginning to influence him, in turn spinning the wheel of desire as he continually locked lips with her in increasingly aggressive manners, one hand roaming over the back of her head and across the crest like horns of old burned wood.

The Demon twisted the fire like whip of her tongue in his mouth, moaning in that ethereal other worldly voice of hers, as she unwound it, breaking away from him as she sat over top of him now, trailing her sharpened talon like hands across his chest as her raging eyes stayed in contact with his. Her words were simple, as she held her arms up skyward, presenting her frame in all its beauty. The smile that creased her lips was always one of his favorite things about this.

"It's time."

He smiled as she slid a little further down his torso, coming to rest her supple ass against his shaft. By now, he was more than ready for it. He was becoming increasingly sweaty as the fire she produced grew hotter and hotter, and the Demon, winking her eye as she slowly rose herself up on her slender arms, held that little smile on her lips, as she slowly plunged down on him. Demons had limits to how far they could take their appearance, and as a result, her body was simply a beautiful construct, with no actual distinctive Human traits. But the experience that greeted him when he slipped past the ashen barriers of her body, and into her core, was astounding.

The Demon kept her arms skyward as she slid down now, biting her lip as her head raised to the stars and ancient trees above. The output of her fire increased dramatically, as she sent ethereal moans skyward. For him, the feeling was something he could never describe with words. She was pure energy, an energy that imprinted onto him in her proximity. Life surged through him, as the fire of youth, energy, knowledge, everything that existed, bloomed inside like an inferno, roaring and surging with power.

The Demon bucked her hips, up and down in a gentle rhythm, as her temperature increasingly rose higher and higher. The flames that surrounded her grew stronger with every buck, every moan, the light she produced increasing exponentially. She leaned back down against him, wrapping her ashen arms around his neck. Sadly, times like these could not last forever, and as she continually rose in strength, her power was being used up like that of a burning star. She held him close, watching him as she moaned, the ethereal aspect of her voice becoming unstable. Her eyes were always infernos, but she could see forever into them, feel the energy and passion in them, as time slowed to a crawl. Her every motion, and bounce, went on for an eternity. Her eyes locked with his as she kissed him, the final words she uttered as she climbed her peak, piercing through every fiber of his being.

"Thank you. Goodbye my love."

And in the brief eternity of it all, her flames rose to their highest, becoming almost unbearable as she made sure not to harm him with all her might. In those last few seconds, her aura was so strong, it was almost like they were one. Both screamed out in one final chorus together, as a light bloomed out from her core, and in a blast of light like the sun, a pillar of energy shot forth into the sky as her pleasured screams reached their peak, and faded from existence. In those last moments, he came to his peak and released inside her, and then, as the light and fire faded, she too faded from reality as he grazed his hand across her smooth ashen face one last time.

And then, it was over. All the light vanished, and she disappeared into a cloud of ash. Silence filled the forest as he rested amongst the glowing embers of the charred area around him, bathing in the afterglow of her warmth. He would be warm for a few hours, and would have time to rest from the experience. Before he went digging around in his pack for a new change of clothes. He laid his head back in the warm dirt, closing his eyes as he looked up to the stars beyond.

In the vastness of it all, she was out there. And of all the hands that had ever passed the book down, he was the only one. He was the only one that had ever dared to look beyond the flames, and see what really hid inside. She was his, and his alone. And someday, he would be with her in the vast eternity of it all. Caught in that maelstrom, that eternity of bliss.