The pointed tips of Narrentuarn’s ears twitched at the urgent sounds in his mind. His hands vibrated from the desperate energy in his two ceremonial swords.
The spell worked. They were coming.
Across the platform of the moon rising ceremony, Hrroulenan gently drew smooth arcs of thickly smoking, herbal balls. His hypnotic body motions reminded Narrentuarn of when their two apprentices had been caught spying, inspiring the naughty apprentices’ punishment at this ceremony.
The younger two would secretly endure coming for hours until they returned to their bodies… until after their master again came with the holder of the balls.
Originally published in P.S. I Love You.
Shadow Fals 