To Discover His Truth

Touched By An Angel

Brynnan came to his senses in total darkness. He took time to process the change of environment. At first, he thought he was blind; then he noticed the smell of damp stone. It felt smooth against his back, and he realized that he was naked. Sounds assailed him: the susurration of wings, rustling noises, breathing and the soft shuffle of footsteps.

He felt a hand on his thigh and flinched involuntarily. More hands touched him and began to stroke his body. He could feel the rope harness and wondered why they had not untied it, but as the hands touched him, when they brushed against the rope, they shied away.

He couldn’t fight; there were too many unseen adversaries. He heard whispers: “Give in to us… We will give you undreamed-of pleasure… Let yourself cum into our hands….”

And now he felt mouths upon him. They sucked and licked his cock. Mouths tried for his nipples but again shied away. He became aroused but fought furiously against the feelings, determined to resist the urge to cum.

Finally, he called out, “Show yourself, you of the white dress. You will get nothing from me!”

A white orb glowed. Although it was small, Brynnan’s light-deprived eyes flinched against it. Then gradually, he could see. He found himself in a large cavern. A low stone structure formed a well at the centre, and sitting on the well was the ‘woman’ in the white dress. Her androgynous features were beautiful and, although a white cloth band came to just under her breasts, their swell was slight. A cloud of loose, dark hair fell about her. Her skin appeared pale blue. Brynnan was less sure that she was strictly female or male, but it didn’t matter; her very presence filled him with a strange aversion, and he was reluctant to get close.

“Brynnan, we finally have you. Do you know, your singing calls me?”

“How do you hear me?” the Bard asked.

She smiled, “Whenever you cross the borders of mind, you become audible to me. I want you to surrender yourself to me. Brynnan, I can give you untold powers of song: when you lead a soul to the gates of death, you will be able to cross over into the Shadow realm and yet return to the World of Life.”

The Bard did not trust her, “You are not who I serve. Loyalty cannot be divided. But why not just take me? Why must I give myself to you?”

“You know the answer. There is no loyalty when one is taken by force. You will find me a kinder mistress than the one you serve. Now, take off your ropes and come closer. No harm will befall you, I promise.”

“Do the knots offend you, Lady… or Lord…?”

“Martya… You may call me Martya.”

“But that is the name of the child that I met,” said Brynnan, puzzled.

Martya laughed. “Bryn, pick me up,” she said, in perfect imitation of the child’s voice.

The Bard felt a cold shiver down his spine. Then a disturbance in the cavern diverted his attention. He could only see the people who were closest to the pool of light from the orb. But now, they parted to let through two men carrying a stretcher. On it lay a man.

He wore a white robe. His skeletal features and laboured breathing told the Bard that the man was very ill. Then his more refined senses informed him that the man was in the process of dying. Brynnan drew to the man’s side despite his reluctance. The dying man gazed up at Brynnan out of fading blue eyes with a pleading expression. He tried to say words, but no sound came. Brynnan, lip-reading, determined that the man pleaded for help.

He knelt and took the man’s cold, listless hand. “I am Brynnan. Fear not, for I will be with you.”

The Bard’s training exerted such a strong desire to help the man that he put away his fears and misgivings into another place in his mind and opened himself to giving the dying man solace.

“What is his name?” he asked.

“Tamiz,” one of the stretcher-bearers replied.

“Tamiz, stay with me for just a little while. Let me ease your burdens.”

Brynnan could not stop himself. He began to sing softly to the man. The song enveloped him, as always. His surroundings and the fact of his nakedness faded away until all that existed was himself and the dying man. His voice gained strength and power, and he could feel Tamiz’s hand flex in a weak grip.

Then around him, the cavern floor morphed into sand, and the walls faded to a grey mist. He was walking, leading Tamiz by the hand. But now, the man’s form appeared as a blurred silver glow. Then Brynnan heard the sound of dove’s wings once more, a myriad of them. The sound seemed to pass over him, and he shivered uncontrollably.

They came to a doorway. It appeared as a darker, whirling oval in the grey mist surrounding them. When he had previously accompanied the dying, Brynnan never knew if he was hallucinating or if indeed he was transported somehow. It didn’t matter. It was real enough.

Still singing, he put his hand against the portal. It opened. Stretched before him, a plain of silvery sand shimmered in early dawn light. There was a glow against the pink and gold horizon that promised a glorious sunrise, but Brynnan knew the sun would never rise here. They had reached the twilight land – the Shadow Realm. The soul with him balked at the threshold.

“Come,” Brynnan encouraged it. “There is nothing to fear. Look yonder,” he pointed and on the horizon was a shining – something: a citadel?

“That is where you must go.”

Still, the soul resisted. For the first time, Brynnan stepped across the threshold of the door, leading the soul with him. A change came over it. The form rippled and assumed the misty outlines of a young man, but Brynnan could see a child within it and a babe. His eyes could make no sense of it, so he stopped trying. Then the form turned to him. The young man smiled, turned away and walked towards the horizon.

Brynnan heaved a deep sigh and turned around. As he was a living man, the door was still there, but between him and the portal stood Martya.

She was naked now but mantled with large white wings. Brynnan saw small, definitely feminine breasts, but also Martya had a penis, which was fully erect.

“You have finally crossed the threshold into my realm. You will not leave. I have you at last!” he/she said.

But Brynnan, not answering, approached until he stood before the Being.

“Kneel before me and suck my cock. You will receive my blessing.”

But Brynnan knew that if he swallowed that deadly cum, he would die in truth. Nevertheless, he knelt and laid his hands on Martya’s slender hips. Dark drifts of his/her cloud-like hair brushed his shoulders. The large, white wings moved to enfold him. He stroked the Being, and the skin was cold to his touch, like marble. Running a hand over to the cock, he grasped it and brought it to his mouth. He enclosed it in his own warm, living lips and sucked. Martya smiled in triumph.

Brynnan reached up and squeezed his/her soft, round breasts, playing with the erect nipples. He felt himself becoming aroused.

“Ah! Make me cum… “ he/she said.

Brynnan was very tempted, but instead, he stopped sucking and stood up. He placed his hand on Martya’s shoulders and pushed. The Being knelt and tried to suck his cock, but he moved his hips aside. He continued urging him/her down until they lay back on the sand, wings spread. Brynnan knelt between the legs, bent over and sucked the pointed nipples. Martya gasped and raised his/her hips to him.

Brynnan did not pause but gripped the cold hips again and pushed his cock inside Martya’s ass. He began to fuck him/her, thrusting in and out according to his own need, not the Being’s. He doubted whether he/she could feel pain.

“Kiss me,” he/she urged.

“No, take what I give you, Martya.”

He wrapped his arms around the Being and pulled her close. He/she tried to push him away, but he continued fucking ass until he/she screamed. He felt his/her climax.

While Martya was lost in ecstasy, the Bard reached out to the spread wings and plucked a flight feather. Then he withdrew himself and stood.

Sitting up, Marta screamed, but for a different reason than pleasure. The Being was looking down at his/her breasts. The Trinity rope knot that represented the Mother-of-All had imprinted itself on the flesh.

“You will never leave here now,” he/she spat and leapt at him. Martya’s wings beat once – twice, then he/she fell to the sand.

“My wings- “ he/she began.

Brynnan stood back from her, holding the white flight feather in his hand. Martya pleaded with him to return the feather, but Brynnan stood unspeaking until he/she fell silent.

“Martya. Stand away from the door and let me pass. I will give you the feather once I am back in the Land of the Living.”

Martya scowled. “You have crippled me and marked me, Man.”

“Marked you? That is the Mother’s sign. In that, we are all marked by her, even you – Angel of Death. You have hunted me to enhance your own power. Such things should not be. The balance of the natural world must be maintained. Now, stand aside.”

The Angel of Death stepped aside. “I would have had you, Man. If you had let me fuck you, or if you had kissed me, if you had cum in me, the door would have been irrevocably shut. How did you know not to do those things?”

“I am a Bard,” he said simply. “I sing the stories, and yours is one I have sung many times.”

The door opened into a misty tunnel. Brynnan stepped through and began walking; he did not look back.

*   *   *

The Bard knelt on the cavern floor, shaking. He was aware of no one, no one alive, that is. The dead body of Tamiz lay on its stretcher. There was no sense of a hovering spirit, and Brynnan knew that the man’s soul was on its journey. But in his hand, the feather looked like a mist: the cloudy outline evaporated, and there was nothing.

He now had to look to himself. The orb light sat on the rim of the well structure. Near it lay Brynnan’s clothes, neatly folded. He dressed slowly then sat on the edge of the well, considering. He had no idea where he was or how to get out. There were no predominant air currents to follow. He began to sing because he did not know what else to do. If it attracted someone, so be it.

He sang in the ancient Tarab style, songs of enchantment, rapture and ecstasy. He had no fear of Martya appearing: he knew who he/she was now. But he was becoming thirsty, and after a while, he paused. To his astonishment, he heard an answering voice echoing in the caverns, deep and solemn. He recognized the words – they sang of eternity in a very recognizable melodic sequence. He picked up the orb and sang a phrase in response, starting towards his rescuer.

Gladness flooded his heart. Turning into a passage off the cavern, he saw a green light coming steadily closer and knew who carried it.

Andri walked up to him, and Brynnan’s heart melted. There were no immediate words, just a deep flood of love and joy as they embraced, then kissed. Brynnan felt like he couldn’t get enough of Andri’s warm, living mouth and tongue. Then he found himself weeping. Andri soothed him and kissed his tears as Brynnan brought his emotions under control again.

“Forgive me, Andri; I had a rather intense experience down here.”

“Yes, it must have been fearful being alone in the silence and blackness.”

“That’s not quite how it was… but I will tell you – after we come into the open sky again. But how do we get out? Did you mark the way?”

“Yes, take my hand and let us leave this place.”

Andri had used a red ochre stone to mark the grey stone walls at each juncture of the cave passages. They travelled very carefully and had to wade to cross in parts. In one place, water ran down the walls, cascading off rocks, and swirled down a sinkhole in the cave floor. Brynnan tasted the water and found it palatable, so he quenched what had become a raging thirst. There was no water in the Shadow Realm, to his knowledge.

At last, a glimmer of light in the distance resolved itself into the cave opening. One final spot to wade, and they emerged into grey daylight. To the Bard’s joy, Nijal and Geraint were there to meet him.

*   *   *

Two days later found the companions camped in a space in the rugged hills as they transitioned to higher mountains. They had reached the threshold of the mountainous part of their crossing. Thankfully, they had seen no signs of people. Brynnan was very glad the Death Cult of Martya had not troubled them further.

Relaxing around a warm fire this night, their discussion turned to Brynnan’s rescue by Andri. Brynnan had told his friends some of the terrifying events of his experience but had refrained from revealing his journey to the Shadow Realm - that was part of the Mysteries of being Mavrenn’s Servant.

“I would never have found you if I hadn’t heard you singing,” remarked Andri.

“And when I heard your voice echoing in the dark, I felt such a force of love for you, my dear young friend.”

“We are learning together to face the darkness. I was very scared, but another part of me was determined to find you, no matter what,” responded Andri.

Geraint cleared his throat to get Andri’s attention. “Lad, you know when Brynnan and I went to the lake earlier today for a wash-“

“Yes?”

“Well, it was to prepare him for you. The three of us have decided you have earned the right to take ass, not just give it. M’Lord Samir gave me the power of decision in this.”

Nijal spoke, “If you will, go to the tent with Brynnan and let him show you his gratitude.”

Andri blushed furiously, but his eyes glowed with warmth. “Truly? May I take you, Brynnan?”

Brynnan laughed, “We will make a lesson of how to take ass another time. Tonight, just do what your heart and cock tell you to do.”

He took Andri’s hand, pulling him to his feet and led him into the tent.