User blog:JeielYozama/Tale of The Mark Maker - Chyrene

''Yo! Jeiel Yozama here, back into writing biz again! Before I apologize for the delay if the new installment, I will admit the climax will have to rely for 3 more chapters. So if you're on the edge of your seats, lean back a bit so you won't fall. Kidding.''

''Marden is this close to knowing the truth why he's being saddled up on reasons out of his whim. But now, let's see  a lighter side of things. Here's the next chapter. Here, I say 'Ikuzu!'''

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“Wha- wha--- WHAT IN THE NAME OF SWEET EROS ARE YOU DOING??! “

In this exact point in time, the only follow-up I can do with that comment is a mouth hung open. Imagine yourself in my shoes, camping alongside a Chimaera in the woods one summer’s evening, and the first travesty that greets me is the sight of her full-on body figure firsthand.

(By the way, when I said that, I mean she’s naked)

I nearly tripped just backing away from what I was seeing. Zmey Typhonas stood a few feet from the fire’s glow, her pure self exposed up until fourth base. I stopped upon feeling a tree behind me. My eyes were sealed shut, double-sealed with a flimsy hand clung on top. Manly urges were pressing me to peek between the gaps but my morality was in mortal disagreement.

NO.

No.

No no no no no!!!

What IS HAPPENING?!

This IS NOT HAPPENING!!

This IS NOT SuPPoSED TO HAPPEN --

---CRAP!!

Out of complete idiocy, my fingers failed and gave me a full-on view. Damn animal instincts.

From the shoulder-level, I gawked long and hard at Zmey. None of the words I intended to say left my lips. The same feeling that overwhelmed me with Nadredda in her wedding dress waltzed back into my subconscious: a hollow, empty breathlessness. The world again, had gone to a time freeze phase. As if the only beings around for miles were me and her.

I went absolutely stiff, like rigor mortis had gotten the better of me. In the dim light, the dear Chimaera appeared more alluring by the bonfire’s blaze (especially now with her clothes absent. Basic Mamono enchantment). She had her pitch-black hair tied in a neat bun above her head, and a visible flower-shaped hairpin stuck in perfectly alongside her curved horns. There was the collar I saw behind her cloak, strapped down her neck and trailed by a chain dangling on one side. Her pale skin seemed icy smooth, from the steep places that were her cheeks, to the area preceding down her chest.

She was exactly as I described her when we first met  -

a mysteriously beautiful gem.

There was another thing. Beyond her earthly, almost human looks, the feminine contours that lined her face, her neck and shoulder blades, screamed a notion she wanted from countless others. A need she had been deprived of since childhood.

Recognition.

But need I remind you all, she’s still naked.

Zmey was downright puzzled. She had no clue what my reaction of a loose jaw was for. Her eyebrows furrowed in stern insistence, as if I was a mental patient in an asylum suffering from delirium that needed attention.

“Is there something the matter, Marden?”

Zmey stepped forward, a twig snapping beneath her.

The glow of the makeshift hearth casted shadows with her movement. My consciousness returned at her beck and call, and not a moment too soon. I forced my free hand (I broke my other one in a fall) over my face to block the scene - and my flustered expression from her ever seeing it.

“Marden, please. Tell me. Does something trouble you?”

I stuttered as I went on.

“W-w-where are your c-c-clothes??!”

“Oh. “ She stared down on herself as if going commando was already natural. I could vaguely see her hands cup her own breasts on passage, but I put a lid on my mixed thoughts for the sake on not getting aroused.

“ I am laying them out to dry. Our hectic flight had worn it out, you see.”

“Don’t you have a spare!?”

My arms were threatening to drop. Letting that happen would forever ruin this woman’s reserved purity, and I am not about to allow my eyes to defile that.

“I don’t see the necessity of having a spare.” She said in half-wonder.

She still doesn't get IT?!

From the back of my head, I was yelling Are you kidding me?! on and on like the verses of a limerick.

“Don’t you feel the slightest bit cold, Zmey?”  I asked precariously, mindful not to let any other object hit my broken arm.

Zmey shook her head. “No. We Chimaeras have a great resistance to low temperature, so it does not bother us.”

She approached me before I could even protest. Placing her forehead close to mine, she ran her fingertips past my strands of hair and fell silent. Her breath mixed in with my own.

“You, onthe other hand, are cold. Maybe the night air is giving you chills. “

Oh SH*T!!

Don’t look down don’t look down don’t look down don’t look down!!

My vision had gone scrambled. Right now, I’m forehead-to-forehead with a naked Mamono. The bestial urge to look down was eating away at my ‘normally’ sentient conscience.

“Perhaps you need body warmth.”

With that, Zmey pulled me close and smothers me in a hug.

The worst part was the round parts coming in contact.

Steam blasted out of my ears. The killing sensation of a woman’s breasts on bare skin made me flush in an overlapping shade of red. The snake ‘in my bushes’ had risen to breaking point.

THIS is bad. If she sees this state of mine IN HEAT--

“T-T-THI-THIS IS--- NOT- SUPPOSED TO---”

TWITCH went the nerves on my head.

The next thing I knew, I randomly smacked her head using the flat end of my palm.

“RYLA, GIVE ME A BREAK!!!!!!!”

Wait. That was a lash on the wrong girl.

“~AH!”

Zmey staggered back in surprise. The whole move happened on impulse. I never expected hitting anyone in the same way I’d do Ryla whenever she ticks me too far.

Instead of angry retaliation, she whimpered and dropped on her knees, hands placed on where I hit her. She was on the verge of tears.

“Why.. did you hit me?”

Her innocent voice wasn’t a joke.

“.. I..” I cleared my throat. “Reflex. Sorry.”

Seeing her in that state reminded me she had a trauma with people hurting her and now I regretted it. “Did it hurt? Is it throbbing?”

“Yes.” She replied in between her snivelling.

Okay, think of something to mend this situation, quick.

Heeding my inner voice, I grabbed my sling bag and pulled out an aged sweater I had stashed from my youth. A perfect fit.

“Clear something for me. You.. don’t usually wear clothes?” I asked while piling back my assortment of tools I was using earlier. Zmey’s voice came out shaky and whittled.

“No. Master says clothing restricts my spell vessels so I use a cloak whilst traveling.”

Zmey’s sobbing stopped as I draped the sweater over her. “Wear that for awhile.” I said taking a seat by the fire.

The Chimaera’s eyes widened.

“You are giving this to me?”

“Consider it a gift.” I patted her head to ease the sore of her bump. “You know, your master has to know clothes aren’t all that restricting.”

“And why is that?”

“Well.. for starters, clothes keep what’s supposed to be hidden, hidden.” I turned away. She didn’t get what I insinuated up until she caught wind of my ‘bulge’. It was enough for her to understand what I meant, being Mamono. She squeaked as she wore the sweater while I covered my hand on my private part in embarrassment.

Is she embarrassed?

I hardly think so. But still…

“Also, clothes keep you warm in cold days so you won’t have to rely on body heat all the time.” I calmly stoked the embers below the flames. “ Best you keep that in mind.”

“So your body finds me attractive as a mate, Marden?”

If I were drinking beverage, I would've spat it. Zmey wore the sweater alright, but her bosom had taken shape with it. It was bulging as if it’d been a permanent feature.

Shut up hormones. Don’t respond.

“Yes, I admit to that fact. Happy now?” I replied sarcastically.

Zmey gave me a look of questioning. More context.

“Look at it this way. You’re a woman, I’m a man. It ‘s a biological factor. Well. Sort of. Let’s not discuss it.”

(Rather, I feared discussing it would intensify this situation)

“Does that mean that if this were to continue, you would vio — “

“No. I beg of you. Don’t go there.”

“Why?” She cocked her head sideways while listening.

“Raping and violating are not my cup of tea. Golden rule: never disrobe a woman by force.” I explained while holding a finger up.

“Interesting.” She laughed faintly. “So you feel compelled to follow it? Your moral of conduct? “

“ That is the only thing my master could leave for me. Before.. he left for good.”

Zmey knew exactly what I was leading on.

“Apologies.” She did a slight bow towards me. The snake head she had for a tail followed suit. “ I have trodden on a sensitive query.”

“Don’t be.”

I ran my free hand on my claymore, feeling its cold surface bite into my skin. “Master wasn’t a person who wanted others to know about him too fondly.”

How did a conversation on clothes end up with master Caballan? Oh well.

Zmey stood from her seating, head held high and tears dried.

“This is merely a misunderstanding in my part, so please forgive me Marden Bale. I will best remember your advice from now on.”

“Good. Wouldn't want to see you prancing about without undergarments.”

“And I hope..” Her pointer fingers meet in the middle of her chest. “..you would hide what I had done here from Master.”

“The cower- thingie? No. That was entirely my fault. I won’t tell a Ghost.” I made a ‘cross-my -heart' gesture on the right side of my chest. She let out a sigh of relief.

“Much appreciated.”

I slumped my back against the leaf pile to stare at the moon. “You know.. I thought you were menacing the first time we met. Now I’m not so sure.”.

“That depends. My demeanor is not assured.” Zmey sat by my left. “How is your arm?”

Gingerly, I attempted to move the fingers on my injured arm. The result I gained were random surges of pain shooting up. I pulled a brave face as I bit my lip. “Still no good. I’ll leave it to good old fashioned healing process for now.”

I glanced at Zmey and saw her anxious reaction. She was still blaming herself for what happened. I wouldn’t say it out loud, but I’m pinning this on the Chief God’s fault.

Ow. Arm pain. Curse Her sharp ears.

“If that is what you say, Marden, then we must rest for the night.”

Zmey vacated my side and ascended up the nearest tree in one bound. The bough shook as she alighted precariously by its branches. Random leaves fell on my face.

“Ummm…. all right up there?”

“ Do not worry. I am keeping watch from this height.” Zmey said as if to reassure to my doubts.

I tucked my bag as a pillow and rested my head. Too much had already happened between me and the world of Mamonos. I think my luck is turning out for the worst.

Funny. When Zmey arrived that day and politely asked me to come with her, I envisioned her as a thoughtless robot manipulated for the machinations of some tyrant. In one day, she had showed me her true self that I doubt anyone else would've seen.

I must be gifted with something. The uncanny ability to make Mamonos reveal their hidden depths. And three had already fallen for it.

But…

Something didn't seem quite right..

Why are we headed to a Demon realm?

Who is Zmey’s master?

And why…… can’t I shake this feeling of dread off my mind?

Sleep. I need sleep. Sleep is good.

My eyes slowly fluttered into a close.

I drifted into dreamland, just when I caught a glimpse of Zmey soaring into the night.



Dreaming. The worst way there is to reinvision my childhood.

In the first place, my childhood was already a crazed installment of my future. Reimagining it made an even bigger pain.

As my dreamland-vision funneled, light filled the prevalent darkness. Figures outlined the background. Lowly tinted colors came into focus.

I was greeted by the sight of a grass-spanned landscape in the state of Raviol. Two like-sized beings faced each other, each handling a weapon, determination steeled into their minds as if it were forged right from birth.

One of those beings was a human. A boy around age 14. Jet-black hair grown fully past his shoulders. Ragged clothes worn over his lanky yet sturdy body. Dust-ridden palms sweating, dripping and wetting the glade despite the harsh brush of the spring wind.

Me.

The scimitar I held with two hands was thin as I remembered it, but had the weight of two bucketloads of water filled to the brim. It was a flat piece of smithed metal, partitioned in the middle and curved at the very tip, with a swordhandle studded in precious gems. Such a blade would evidently be better off slicing guts from blaggards rather than used as a training tool for rookie Heroes. But there it was in my incapable hands and I'm well aware the person who’s responsible for getting these rare weapons didn't get a free admission into anyone’s treasury merely to nick stuff she fancies.

Also, I’d be lying if I didn't say the person wasn't human at all.

Before me stood my opponent - a Salamander about my age, wearing ragged clothes same as mine. Scales dyed in the color of molten rock ran up her arms and legs like most of her kind. Her signatory fiery-red hair was tied in twin tails (which I admit, suits her). The velvet glint in her eyes hinted she was raring to exchange blades with someone. Unfortunately, I'm the only possible target she could maim in this expanse of a battlefield.

Just like me, the Mamono had her choice of a weapon. Except hers was out of whack. She held onto an oversized greatsword, its meager bulk twice her size. Despite it threatening to fall on top of her head, she pushed to keep it aloft, bound by her combat-worn claws. As expected of Lizardmen.

The Salamander glared at me. Not of competition or challenge, but of spite. For reasons unknown, she must’be hated me. The heaviness of her grand weapon didn't bother her and her tail ran ablaze as if she threatened to burn me.

“Stay your hand, dear.” said a calm voice clearly pointing to the hot headed battle maiden. She muttered splitting curses and eventually conceded.

My eyes wandered and found another figure. This time, it was a Mamono glamoured in alternating blue and cyan scutes. She was a Lamia, and so her lower extremities extended like that of a snake’s. She had short cropped hair up to her ears and donned  a thin pair of glasses and a tank top over her busty frame. A jacket hung over her slim shoulders : the same one I gave to Zmey. And on her cheek, there was symbol I recognized in one of my spells - the Spiral Sun.

It was my mentor in combat training.

The Echidna, Chyrene.

“Begin.”

Her signal spurred us to motion. The Salamander tightened her grip, charged towards me and swung her giant blade with deadly fatality. My instincts guided me to dodge, niftily avoiding a major slash up my shoulder. I kicked it aside, and as it clattered off her reach, I prepared my counterattack. A set of deadly strikes rained upon her.

The Salamander raised her arms to defend. Metallic clinking pierced noisily as cold steel met scales. The second I stopped, she dove in for her weapon. Her greatsword blocked my scimitar's advance in the nick of time. Our exchange of blades happened a few more tries before  we retreated to our starting posts.

Chyrene slithered closer.There was stern discipline and unmatched zeal in her eyes.

"Breathe. Feel the weight of what your opponent has in his hands. "

I followed my mentor's words. They were law to me.

I took a lungful of air, and cleared my thoughts. I imagined my Salamander cohort's weapon. Its ridiculous size. The difficulty in balancing it.

And from that, I knew what to do next.

"Once you've envisioned your opponent's weakness..."

My feet prepared for kick-off.

"RELEASE. "

As if cued to set in, the Salamander and I made a treacherous step and brushed our sword edges upon each other, our movements faster than a mere blur. Small blades of grass fell in an instant. We were already on each other's opposing sides. Panting heavily. Faces glimmering in determination.

Steadily, I rose to my feet. I swung my blade as if to defy weakness. Behind me, my Mamono rival dropped her weapon and, her strength withering, crumpled on the grassy field.

Game. Set. Match.

I turned to see my Echidna teacher slithering closer. She was beaming down on me with a delighted expression on her face.

"Well done, Marden." She clapped her hands joyfully. "Striking the limbs responsible for locomotion is a perfect technique to cripple your opponent's movement. Didn't have to teach you twice, did I?"

Sheathing the scimitar, I nodded contentedly at her praise. One thing to know about childhood me : I wasn't the conversational type.

"Starting today, I want you and Silah - " Chyrene gestured to the crestfallen Salamander, " -to practice using those swords. By the end of the week, a new weapon will be given to you both. This tests your ability to shift in weapon handling in the heat of conflict. Are we clear? "

I bowed at her direction, a gap of silence stretching as I finished. Hair flew as the summer wind ruffled past us. My fingers ran along the surface of the scimitar scabbard while feeling the weight of the weapon strapped by my waist.

A blade of my own. One step closer to my goal -

Recognition.

"YOU!!"

The Salamander named Silah, legs wobbling under her weight, tried her earnest to elevate herself only to sink on her knees again. Fresh tears emerged on the corners of her eyes.

"YOU'RE making fun of me, YOU - You SICKO!!"

"Umm...."

That was as far as I was able to say.

Can you blame little me? I didnt know what else to react. I wasn't expecting  a battle-rusted Mamono like her to be... well.... sensible.

"Temper DOWN, Silah." The Echidna's stern voice domineered in the tranquil atmosphere. Silah stomped a foot and pointed a claw towards me.

"That IDIOT thinks he's being oh so cool, holding back when he's supposed to let loose. He's NOT EVEN TAKING ME SERIOUSLY!! I AM NOT ABOUT TO LET THIS INSULT PASS!"

Holding back? What in blazes is she talking about? That was me being serious enough. What else is there for me to show?

Chyrene interrupted my thoughts with a tail slam. The grassy plain shook beneath my feet. She was miffed at Silah's actions, but she knew better than to keep her cool.

"Marden was not acting anymore than he wants to, Silah. Your penchant for battle is not worth getting bruises and cuts for. " She explained. "Being a combat-seeker is not the purpose of this training. You are to be fine swordsmen for the fights that decide the outcomes of your future. Remember that. "

Silah heaved her giant-sized sword and buried a quarter of it into the earth. She was seething in anger. Only, I didn't incite it on purpose.

"Countless times, ONE-SAMA! Countless times we've sparred, and YET HE fights like he's toying with ME! I AM SICK AND TIRED OF HIS MIND GAMES! EITHER HE gets rid of his ludicrous facade or I TEAR HIM A NEW ONE!"

And they say I speak a lot of bull. She's worse than I am.

Before long, wisps of yellowish crimson fire sputtered to life and danced on her opened palms. A shiver down my spine told me she was going to fry me for real.

"SILAH! FLAME DOWN!"

Chyrene lashed her tail to the Mamono. Her massive coils wrapped around Silah's leg like a turban. The Salamander yelped as she was indignantly hoisted up in the air. "This is unbecoming! Act mature, for the love of gods!"

"I won't have it! I WON'T HAVE IT! Let me bash him, for all I CARE!" Silah ranted, waving her arms with her fists balled. I stared at her quiet as a bug. She wasn't threatening anyone. Any person at a closer glance would know she was acting more like a spoil sport.

And then, her skirt flipped upside down, exposingher frilly pink underwear.

Natural boy reaction - nosebleed.

My eyes were glued stiff.

Pink?

"AAAaaCK! "

A minute later, I realized I was still staring. I looked away, a visible red forming on my face.

Silah covered her bare part in panic. Her flames flushed in indignant scorn.

She's definitely going to fry me now.

"He - he- SAW!! YOU LITTLE PIECE OF --- "

"SILAH, either you flame down this instant, or I dunk you in WATER. "

Chyrene's threats got through faster than expected.

As she sniveled and whined, Silah's flaming tail dimmed at once. She glared at me as if to say 'this isn't over'.

"When I get my hands on you....." She said amidst the gritting of her teeth. The rest of what she said were incomprehensible muttering. I didn't want to find out what she thought of.

Chyrene gently set Silah down to her feet. She stomped away sulking a few meters away and with her freakish-sized sword, began thrusting it against the wind exclaiming "HAAH!"

Well. That was interesting.

"Typical. Venting her anger on her sword.." Chyrene shook her head. She went back to me, smiling. "Are you alright, Marden dear?" She asked, ruffling my hair. "No injuries whatsoever?"

I replied with a quick nod.

"Don't mind Silah dear. She's just very, very ill-tempered. " She explained. "Is there something I can get you?"

My small hands pointed towards a nearby spring, indicating my thirst.

"Go on."

I walked on over to the pool. The reflection of young me came clear as I kneeled by the water's edge. Cupping my hands, I scooped the clear liquid, careful not to spill any of it, and drank.

The water was a work of magic. All signs of fatigue, of strenous activity just by moving and carrying my sword, vanished completely. Energy surged in every corner of my body. I was instantly refreshed. Ready for another round at combat training.

That is - if my partner would'nt impale me on first sight.

Slithering told me Chyrene had snaked her way to my side. I looked up. She gazed fondly at Silah, who was still venting her rage on her thrusts.

"Never have I expected to train such a soft hearted Salamander.. am I right Marden? "

I bobbed my head in reply.

"Nothing fazes you, I see." She grinned and patted me again. I smiled smugly as she did so.

At that point of the dream, I missed it. The warmth she gave me. It was something I never felt back home. It felt... nostalgic.

And.. somewhat eerie.

Is it just me or is there a cruel curl on her lips?

" Silah tends to be jealous of you, Marden." She said as she coiled around me. Not in a constricting manner, but merely encircling me in it. "Your proficiency in combat... your knowledge in spells. She acknowledges you as a stronger individual, so she believes by training hard to defeat you, she too, can get stronger. No. She has a lot to learn. She has to be patient. Or she won't survive the world she'll tread on."

I stare at the still water in silence. Droplets trickling from my mouth fell into the surface and brought ripples, distorting the clear view of my face.

"And she doesn't get it that you yourself, are too young to control it."

Whatever she may have meant with the words control, it gave me a nasty chill down the length of my shoulders. Like it was something I should forget -or remember all the same.

Sh*t.

I swear this is connected to my current situation.

Chyrene breathes gently on my head as she rests her chin on it. "Silah doesn't know you too well dear. But...I know you'll be destined for greatness. So come time, don't forget the lessons I taught you.. You'll be a fine Hero. I'll be there tosee you do wonders..."

To this, she bends over. Kisses my lips playfully. Whispers an ominous pretense that would shake me.

".... and then.... you... will be mine...."

....

...

..

..

...

....

.....

"GAH!!"

I sprung awake, catapulting myself out of my makeshift bed. Beads of sweat gathered on my forehead. My breathing went shallow and rigid.

Where amI? Where am I??

Context.. I need context..

It was....

Nightime.

Okay. Just a nightmare.

I fished a towel out of my bag pack and wiped my face free of sweat.

The cool breeze kissing my cheeks afterwards... reminds me of her.

Chyrene was my childhood mentor.The day I pledged to be a Hero worthy of everyone's praise, I traveled to the state of Raviol, searching for a person who would take me in as an apprentice. Prior to my arrival at Master Caballan's, I stumbled - and fell - into an Echidna's den which I thought was abandoned. Chyrene arrived home to see me injured all over so she treated me, and after expressing to her my wish, decided to train me. In no less than five grueling months,  she taught me swordsmanship and the usage of spells. Not bad for an upstart like me.

In a comparative sense, Chyrene was sweet. And affectionate. She was like a big sister I never had, but her closeness kind of bordered to levels of creepy. She would steal kisses on me as if I were a guy her age, and she frequently hugged me when I wasn't doing anything except practicing my mantra.

And as if that wasn't enough to rattle my boots, along came Silah.

I couldn't really remember how much of a Salamander was the Mamono I used to spar with. She came in a week after I started my training, bruised and bloodied. Chyrene took her in, made her a fellow pupil. I became her senior in combat classes, and she my junior. Things quickly detriorated between us in the days that followed.

Silah was violent and brash, and she loved nothing more than having a blade in hand and me parrying it on the other end. Yes, she admittedly has a weapons obsession. I regret taking part in it. Not that I always end up beaten up badly, but when I fight her, she scowls,bawls and makes all sorts of noises about me 'not being serious'. Of course, Chyrene always manages to temper her down to a minimum, and that's that.

Ah, my youngling years were nuts. Enough said.

An urge to stand came over me, so I clambered the tree by my side as I went up.There was a funny feeling on my broken arm. Like it got way lighter.

Lifting my injury, I realized the arm had been unwound from its cast and in a better shape.

My broken bone was all better.

I was stunned. A few hours ago, I could've sworn my arm was in a shape worse for wear. Now, I could flex my fingers with ease. Most of the swelling had disappeared. Other than a small twinge I feel on the back of my wrist, the damage itself was on the road to recovery.

I was compelled to ask someone how has this been made possible.

A greenish trace of something rubbed on my injury a while ago caught my eye. I ran my finger on it and smelled a familiar scent.

Comfrey.

Zmey must've ... grounded comfrey flowers and rubbed the mixture on my arm, joining it with healing magic to enforce repair.

Come to think of it,  where is she?

"Zmey?"

No answer.

"Zmey?

"ZMEY?!"

MY Mamono quarry, the aloof Chimaera, is nowhere to be found.

.......

...



To be CONTINUED!!

Writer's note: ''Ohaiyoo!! So sorry it took this long to publish! I mostly had small time to think out long scripts, which explains why I had a mental block on the next installment. Also, as a student, exams and debacles really bore into you. But now, we get to the good part of the story, and I hope you aren't left hanging again. See you on the next! And I guarantee that the next will be told on two viewpoints of characters.....''

''Did YOU KNOW? ''

''Comfrey, also known traditionally as knitbone or boneset, is a herb used in healing broken bones. It has also long been attributed to treating ailments ranging from bronchial problems, sprains, arthritis, ulcers, severe burns and more.''

''The Spiral Sun symbol comes from shamanic beliefs that the Sun is the first shaman, the fist healer of people. It is representative of the unique healing power that, accordingly, is being radiated all around the cosmos, which helps us recover from setbacks and fall back into natural rhythm and healthy harmony of life. ''

(From http://www.ancient-symbols.com/healing_symbols.html)

To the next one ! Sayonara!