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Belar the Mighty: The Lost Sister Ch. 01

By: YummyTiger



I would like to thank my editor and those who provided me valuable feedback!

* * * * *

The noise emanating from the Sea Maiden tavern was often the only thing heard throughout the warm, salty nighttime air of the docks. Gone were the bustling merchants and stone-faced city guards who populated the area during the day, retreating to the safety found within the walls of Lanos' main district. Every night the tavern became a haven for the city's roughest denizens, and the ever-boisterous crowd would often drink well into the morning. Two goons could always be found manning the door, their hands hovering above their weapons, waiting for the inevitable brawl.

Inside, there were none of the extravagances of the pubs within the city. It contained no cushioned chairs, or sparkling crystal glasses, and no traveling musicians chose this tavern to sing their wares. Instead, a lone minstrel, if you could call him that, sat on a dirty wooden floor belting out rowdy tales of brigands and vagabonds. Three worn wooden tables stretched out before him, filled with shouting patrons drinking from rusty iron mugs. The room reeked of stale beer and vomit, but that did not stop the dockhands and thugs from packing it full, for it was the only tavern still running outside the city walls.

This night, as most nights, a giant of a man sat at the end of the farthest table. Three stools filled every table's end, but the ones to Belar's left and right remained vacant. Even the city's underbelly viewed him as a dangerous animal, best avoided. The few who sat in his vicinity tended to look in every direction but his. One or two in the tavern might have outweighed him, but it was not due to muscle. He wore a brown tunic that smelled eerily similar to the room he sat in and stretched in protest whenever he moved.

Belar grabbed his mug from the table, took a deep swig and belched loudly. His eyes were focused not on the minstrel, but on the serving wenches, Maddy and Cecilia. They were the owner's daughters and, wearing those low-cut outfits, the real entertainment. Cecilia was the family beauty. She walked through the tavern crowd with a look of disdain, her nose typically pointed skyward as she slammed mug after mug of ale on the tables. Her lithe body maneuvered gracefully between the outstretched hands of the patrons and if one did happen to get lucky, the goons were quick to pounce. 

Maddy was the other daughter, and was Cecilia's sister in name only. While she did not have Cecilia's elegant stature and grace, she more than made up for it in personality. She showed none of her sister's arrogance as she served the patrons. While Belar would not call her fat, she had more meat on her bones and her robust frame made navigating the narrow aisles a greater challenge. More often than not, those hands would find their target and the resulting pinch would elicit a squeal. The crowd would beat their mugs on the table and roar in approval as her face shifted red. Belar downed the mug's remaining contents and felt a familiar rush in his loins.

"Maddy, another round!" he roared, lifting the empty mug high. 

Spit and ale flew from his lips, spraying the man sitting closest. The man turned and looked from Belar to the massive hammer on the floor beside him and back. He wiped the spittle from his face and turned back without a word. Belar laughed loudly; he had no respect for cowards.

"Maddy!" he roared again, slamming the mug onto the table.

Maddy turned from the bar, waved a mug in the air and started towards him. Her full bosom heaved as she approached. Who said having a little meat on your bones was bad? His eyes devoured the lush figure and his desire grew. Her trip resulted in more squeals and more raucous laughter. When she reached him her face was deep red.

"I heard you the first time," she said as she placed the mug on the table.

Those luscious mounds hovered mere inches away and Belar could not resist. He grasped the shirt's top with his right hand and yanked her into his lap. She shrieked in surprise and tried to squirm free. Belar's hands latched onto her breasts and held her in place. His manhood pushed eagerly against his trousers and into her ample bottom. One hand found the hard nub of her breast and pinched it through the cloth. Maddy squeaked and started swinging blindly at his face. Belar laughed at her attempts and continued his fun. Many were now watching the scene enthusiastically and shouting suggestions. The goons from the bar were trying to push through the crowd, but those eager to see more were not making it easy. 

Maddy continued her struggle, but it was a fruitless effort. Belar held her easily and slid his hand underneath her top. His hand surrounded the soft flesh of her tit and pulled it free. Cheers filled the room as the men leered at the naked flesh. Belar playfully kneaded the bare tit while his other hand roamed downwards. It pushed between her legs and savored the warmth of her sex beneath the thin undergarments.

"Belar you pig! Get your filthy hands off her!"

Belar spun around to find Cecilia standing behind him, swinging a mug towards his head. He raised a hand to shield himself, but it was too late. The mug crashed against his forehead and he rocked backwards. His vision blurred and he felt Maddy jump from his lap. Her hand smacked his face a moment later, leaving his cheek tingling. When his vision cleared, Maddy's top was back in place and she stood beside her sister with her hands on her hips; two goons right behind. The man at his table was smirking at his misfortune. His rage threatened to break free, but he quickly contained it. He had little doubt that he could handle the tavern's bouncers, but they did not deserve it. His fun was over… for now.

"I'm sorry," Belar grumbled, "Please take this for your trouble."

He tossed a few gold coins on the table. Maddy's eyes widened at the sight of gold and she snatched them away. Cecilia continued to glare, but when the goons turned back to the bar, she knew she would get no satisfaction and stomped away. Maddy hesitated as if about to speak before dropping her eyes to the floor and following. The smirk disappeared from the man at his table's face as he realized Belar would not be leaving. He stared into his mug as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. The minstrel restarted his song and the crowd settled back into their normal routine. Within minutes, the whole exchange was a distant memory. Belar took a drink from his new mug and went back to watching.

The goon grunted his displeasure at being relegated to serving ale as he slammed the mug in front of Belar. Belar was just as disappointed, neither sister would serve him. He was about to take his frustration out on the man close to him when the tavern went silent. Every face in the tavern was pointed at a woman dressed in white robes standing at the entrance. It was no wonder everyone had gone silent. Priestesses of Amur did not frequent the docks, even during the day. The priestess ignored the stares and calmly scanned the room. When her head came to a stop, she was looking directly at Belar. She started in his direction and wooden stools scraped against the floor as patrons moved clear. Belar took a swig of ale; he was going to need it.

"Belar I presume?" the priestess asked.

"Depends on who's asking."

"I'm asking," she replied, less than amused, "May I sit?"

Belar nodded and watched her warily. Two delicate hands emerged from the robe's sleeves and reached up to pull the hood back. Long, red curls spilled free and Belar drew in his breath. She was gorgeous. All priestesses were beautiful, but he had only ever seen them from a distance. They were blessed ones and he was not exactly a pious man. Sitting before him, he could not help but gawk at her. He was not the only one, many others who had been secretly watching before were openly staring now.

"Belar, I have come to ask for your help."

Belar drained the remaining ale. What would a priestess need with him?

"My sister was kidnapped earlier today," she continued, "I would like to hire you to help me rescue her."

Rescue her kidnapped sister? It sounded like a job for the city guard or one of the knights.

"Why come to me?" Belar responded.

"Priest Francis told me to seek you out, will you help me or not?"

There was agitation in her voice; she did not like coming to him. Francis' name surprised him, but he did not show it. Belar had not seen or heard from Francis since before the priesthood. He owed it to the priest to at least hear her out.  

"I'm listening," he told her. 

"Not here," she replied.

He understood, not only was every eye on them, but every ear as well. The priestess pulled the hood back up and stood from the table. Belar rose as well, towering above her. He scanned the crowd. Most of the patrons were looking at their drinks or the minstrel, pretending not to notice, but the bar was unnaturally quiet. Belar knew their attention was them. He retrieved his hammer from the floor, muscles bulging from the weight of the massive weapon and slid it into the holster on his back. He took his time, letting everyone see. He did not want them following. The priestess shook her head at the display, thinking him to be showing off. When they started towards the door, stools scraped the floor once again as patrons made the path even wider.

Anybody walking past would have performed a double-take upon seeing them exit. They made an unusual pair. Belar kept a constant vigil as they walked through the quiet dockside. They climbed the steady rise towards the city. Dark alleyways lined the dirt road, filled with those who would prey on the unwary. Belar felt their gaze from within the darkness. He walked with the stride of a seasoned warrior, exuding confidence and the war hammer strapped to his back only accentuated the point. Most of the underground knew him and knew there was much easier prey to be had. 

The city gate creaked open at their approach. Belar had never seen the gates open for anyone other than nobility after dark. Apparently a priestess commanded the authority to do so as well. She marched between the gates, ignoring the guards with their knuckles pressed to their foreheads. The cobblestone streets inside were a far cry from the dirt roads they had come from. Lamp posts dotted the landscape, illuminating the many signs that hung on each side. Stores, inns and pubs lined the street, but at this hour most were dark inside. The priestess never once looked back as she strode purposefully down the street. 

When they turned into the temple square, a giant statue of Amur greeted them. The statue stood in the center of the plaza, watching. Belar felt a little uneasy under its gaze and suddenly regretted what he had done to Maddy earlier. Maybe I will have Francis forgive me, he thought with a laugh. If the priestess heard him, she ignored it. They walked past the large ceremonial double doors that served as the temple's entrance and instead to a small door on the building's side. She gave the wooden door a light knock and the latch clicked a moment later, someone had been waiting. The door creaked open and Belar barely recognized the aged face that appeared.

"Thank you for coming Belar," Francis said.

Belar stood dumbstruck, Francis was only a few years his senior, but he looked sixty.

"Please come in," Francis said before Belar could speak.

He moved aside and Belar followed the priestess into the temple. He was standing in a narrow hallway leading to the back of the temple. Through an open doorway ahead, Belar recognized the main worship area. It was the only room he had ever visited in the temple, and that was long ago. Francis and the priestess set off down the hallway and Belar followed, still eyeing his friend with confusion. He did not pretend to know anything about priesthood, but he had never heard of it unnaturally aging someone.

They led him to a small study that he had to duck down to enter. The simple room reinforced the temple's principles. A plain wooden desk stood at the far end with two wooden chairs before it. The small shelf at its side was the room's only other furnishing. A lone candle sat on the desk, giving the room a haunted glow. Francis moved behind the desk and motioned for them to sit. The chair groaned under Belar's weight.

"Again, thank you for coming," Francis started once he had seated, "I assured Taria that you were the one to seek out."

The priestess sat beside him, her eyes on the priest.

"I am sure you are wondering why I had her seek you out," Francis continued.

"The thought had crossed my mind," Belar replied, "But now I am more interested in what happened to you."

Francis cracked a smile for the first time since Belar had arrived. Shades of the old Francis appeared.

"Let's just say that doing Amur's work is not always easy, but that is a story for another time. Right now time is not our ally. What do you know?"

"Her sister was kidnapped," Belar said jabbing a finger in Taria's direction, "And for some reason you sent her to me instead of the city guard or the knights."

Francis brought his fingers together, forming a pyramid in front of his mouth. He seemed to planning his next words carefully.

"Her sister's name is Cyan and yes, she was kidnapped earlier today," Francis said finally, "Cyan is a priestess in training. She was taken from the farm."

Belar leaned forward. He had heard rumors of the farm. Supposedly, it was where disciples of Amur were taken for training, but few knew anything more. There were even questions as to whether it actually existed. Francis took note of Belar's sudden interest.

"Old friend, please do not ask questions concerning the farm."

Belar nodded, he was beginning to understand why they had come to him and not the guard. The wizards would pay a hefty price for information about the farm.

"The farm and its details are irrelevant," Francis continued, "What is important is that Cyan was taken while at the farm, which has never happened before. To do this, the kidnapper would have needed powerful enchantments."

Belar did not like where this was headed. He distrusted magic, both religious and scholarly. His faith lay with the hammer on his back. Granted it had enchantments of its own, but those enchantments lay within the metal itself. In Belar's mind that was a more earthly magic, one not tainted by man.

"I can only think of a few that could have entered unnoticed and only one that makes sense, the Onekyh."

Belar slid back in his chair, the last piece fell into place. The Onekyh were the creations of the old wizards, beast men that were to be their guardians. Meeting an Onekyh usually meant death to a man and worse to a woman. Wizards' distrust of women was no secret. They saw them as seducers of men and the root of all evil. Their distrust is what led to the ancient rift between the temple and the academy. It was also this distrust that led to the wizards creating only male Onekyh, a decision that would prove their undoing. Combining man and beast did not diminish the natural drive to reproduce, it only increased it. The Onekyh had no mates and began to desire the mistresses of their masters, human women. 

When the wizards realized what was happening, they forbade the Onekyh any female contact. In their rage, the Onekyh turned on their masters. They proved as ruthless against their masters as they had been against their enemies. Many Onekyh and wizards perished in the war that followed. In time, the wizards realized they were fighting a losing battle and granted the Onekyh their freedom. The surviving Onekyh went into hiding and forged a new society. Still a slave to their lust, they began to pilfer human females from the country villages. The wizards did their best to hide their failure and stamp out the Onekyh's existence. The rural kidnappings became the work of ruffians and vagabonds. Today, few outside the academy know of the old guardians and to speak of them publicly would be to invite its wrath. Belar only knew because his mother had been one of those kidnapped. He was the resulting offspring.

"What makes you think the Onekyh are involved?" Belar replied, his voice devoid of emotion. 

Taria turned towards him, surprised that he knew of the Onekyh. Those blue eyes looked at him appraisingly before widening in realization. She knew.

"The farm is blessed by Amur himself. Few can enter it undetected. I know of one or two wizards who might be able to pull it off, but they would not come to kidnap a priestess in training," Francis replied, "The Onekyh, on the other hand, have a natural resistance to priestly magic stemming from their creation. They could have breached the farm undetected. To them, it would be just another farm and Cyan just another pretty mate."

Belar could not argue with his logic. Any priestess in training would be just what the Onekyh were looking for. Their lust knew no bounds. Belar could relate.

"If what you say is true, you have a day, maybe two, before she is taken," Belar informed them.

Water filled Taria's eyes and he could feel the hatred burning behind them.

"That is why we must leave tonight," she said.

Belar smirked and turned back to Francis.

"What does she mean by we? If I agree to help, I go alone."

"You will help and you will--" she started to reply but Francis cut her off.

"Belar, a priestess of Amur is not to be underestimated. She has powers that can aid you and also shares a bond with her sister that will lead right to her."

Belar turned back to Taria. She challenged his stare. Her striking beauty ignited the animal lust within him and his eyes crept downwards. He wondered what kind of body lie hidden beneath those robes. Having a priestess of Amur along is not to be underestimated indeed. The corners of his mouth crept into a smile.

"If I agree to help, I expect to be well compensated."

Belar ignored Taria's angry harrumph. Francis's expression remained neutral, he had expected as much.

"The temple's coffers are deep and you have my word that you will be amply rewarded."

"Then I will go," Belar said after a moment of contemplation.

Francis's stoic demeanor broke and he let out a sign of relief, "Thank you old friend."

"We must leave immediately," Taria interjected.

Belar stood and turned to her. He head was inches from the ceiling and she looked up at him, doing her best to maintain her composure.

"If you are to come with me, you will stop giving orders," he said in a dangerous tone of voice, "You will follow my command without question, for our lives WILL depend on it."

Belar was intimidating, even to a priestess and her defiance faltered. She looked unsure for the first time since they had met.

"You had best change into something more appropriate. Those robes will do nothing but stick out and slow us down."

Anger flashed across her face and the wooden chair skidded when she stood, "I was obviously going to change," she replied before stalking from the room.

Belar smiled at her retreating figure, her defiance only made her that much more attractive. He turned back to Francis who had watched the exchange in silence.

"Please go easy on her. She and her sister are very close, this has hit her hard."

"She will have to learn to control her emotions. I will not allow them to put me at risk."

Francis nodded in understanding. This was not a task to be taken lightly.

"I have prepared a pack of supplies for you, potions and rations. Two horses are waiting in the stables."

Belar calmed himself and he nodded his appreciation. Potions were an expensive commodity and no small gift. They would also fetch a good price if he was able to save them.

"Thank you. I need to retrieve some things from my room before we leave. Tell her to meet me at the stables."


Belar the Mighty: The Lost Sister Ch. 01



Francis nodded and led Belar back to the temple's exit. 

"Belar," Francis said when he stepped outside, "Thank you."

Belar turned back to the priest, "Don't thank me yet."

Francis nodded. He looked so tired.

"When I get back you will have to tell me how the friend I remember grew so old. Especially when he is surrounded by such beautiful women," Belar said with a grin.

"He may not be as far gone as it appears," Francis replied with a twinkle in his eye.

Belar laughed, relieved to see a bit of the mischief he remembered. He turned and headed back into the city. Francis watched Belar walk away, the cool night wind brushing against his skin. When Belar disappear around the corner, he dipped his head and whispered, "May Amur see you safely back old friend."

To be continued...



Belar the Mighty: The Lost Sister Ch. 02



I would like to thank my editor and those who provided me valuable feedback!

Chapter Two

Belar entered the stables to find Taria standing beside two horses, saddled and ready to go. A sleepy eyed boy stood next to her, hands filled with hay. His eyes never left her as he raised the hay to the horses' mouths. Taria had shed the white robes of the Amur and was dressed in a dark green tunic and brown riding pants. The tunic and pants hugged her body, showing off curves that the robes had hidden. Gone also was the hood, leaving her jaw-dropping face exposed. Belar hoped they did not happen across any highwaymen; one look at her and there would be trouble. A knife was buckled to her hip and Belar saw the bulge of another near her ankle. Those would be worthless against the Onekyh, but he would let her keep her false comfort.

"It is about time," Taria said with her hands on her hips.

Belar gave her a look that said he was not in the mood and walked to the larger of the two horses. He opened the saddle's pack and took a quick inventory of the contents: two healing potions, two stamina potions, a water flask and a couple bundles of cheese. Belar wondered how many more potions were in Taria's pack. He would try to get them from her later.

"Pay the stable boy and let's go," he said as he pulled himself into the saddle. The horse whinnied in response to his weight.

"Serving Amur is all the payment he needs," Taria replied and gracefully mounted her animal.

Belar turned and gave her a level stare, "Pay the boy."

Those crystal blue eyes remained locked on his as she reached into her tunic and pulled out two bronze pieces. The boy snatched the coins from the air and smiled. Neither rider said a word as they dug their heels in and galloped from the stable.

The orange haze of dawn was only just peeking over the horizon and at that time, they were the only riders leaving Lanos. The surrounding farmland provided no cover and anyone in the city would have been able to see them for miles. Belar ignored the endless fields and focused on the road ahead. He felt the fatigue of the long night and reached into the small pack for one of the stamina potions. He needed his wits about him for this journey. The bottle popped when he pulled the stopper free and Taria looked over at the sound.

"We should save the potions for tonight. It will take a day and a half to reach the Onekyh."

"I know where the Onekyh live," Belar replied, downing the potion, "We will take a shortcut that will have us there by evening."

"What shortcut?" Taria asked, her eyes narrowing.

"We'll cut through Blackrock forest."

"Blackrock forest? Are you insane?"

"Do you want to save your sister or not? A day and a half is too long," he replied, anger seeping into his voice.

The mention of her sister silenced her complaints. He saw the beginning of tears in her eyes before she turned away. He watched her while she looked away, trying not to let him see her cry. Once again, he was enamored with her beauty. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a ponytail, away from her delicate face and neck. Her skin looked so perfect and smooth. Nothing like the serving wenches of the taverns he frequented. His eyes crept along her neck and across the two mounds below that bounced with every stride. He had heard that most priestesses shunned men and lived without ever experiencing a man's pleasure. Judging from her actions, Belar assumed Taria was probably among them.

"When did you start training to become a priestess?" Belar asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"I was taken to the farm when I was six," she replied continuing to stare down the road, "My parents were killed when Bologs raided our village."

"You survived a Bolog raid?" Belar asked in surprise.

"My mother hid me in the pantry and covered me in flour."

Clever woman, Belar thought.

"A priest of Amur found me later and took me to the farm."

"You've lived at the farm ever since?"

Taria locked those blue eyes back on him, "For the most part yes, I have traveled some in Amur's name."

"Do you have a husband?"

Her face changed to one of disgust, "Amur is the only partner I need."

Belar laughed, he doubted she even knew what a man's sex looked like.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," he replied, still chuckling.

Taria gave a loud harrumph and turned back to the road.

By the time they could see the end of the city's fields, the sun's top could be seen peeking over the horizon. Ahead, Belar could see an unmarked trail branch off from the main road. The trail was overgrown with weeds and there were none of the many tracks that covered the main road. It weaved up a steep incline and disappeared into the tree line of Blackrock forest. Belar turned onto the trail and led Taria up the incline. At least we won't have to worry about highwaymen, Belar reasoned.

The climb did not take long and within minutes they were engulfed by trees. Gone were the farms and the burgeoning sunlight, replaced by leafy vines and uncountable branches. The path was lighted by the few strands of sunlight that somehow weaved their way through the overgrowth above. Chirps and hoots from unseen creatures filled the air. They slowed their horses to a trot and continued down the trail. Taria looked back and forth nervously, but Belar remained unfazed. He often hunted these woods and he knew that nothing they would have to worry about would be this close to the edge. The real danger was found within the forest's heart. The building pressure in his bladder caused him to pull his horse to a stop. He felt as if about to burst from all the ale he had consumed earlier.

"Gotta piss," Belar grunted as he dropped to the ground and noticed Taria rolled her eyes. "What? Are priestesses too good to piss?" he muttered to himself and started to unbuttoned his trousers.

"Ahem."

He turned to see her looking away, face red. 

"Can't you at least have the decency to do that behind a tree?"

Belar shook his head, "Fine."

He pushed the intertwining branches apart and stomped off the trail, cursing the little thorns that scratched his hands and arms. Once he had a few trees between himself and the trail, he pulled his pecker out and released a thick stream into mossy ground. 

"Ahhhhh," he sighed in relief. The branches continued to poke at him while he peed, "Damn priestess and her damn modesty," he grumbled and gave one of the branches a shove.

A rustling within its leaves caused him to jump back. A green snake about the width of his finger fell to the ground. It hit the ground and lifted its head high, hissing. Belar lunged at the snake with an animal-like quickness and grabbed the serpent by its head. He pinched its mouth closed and lifted the wriggling creature into the air. Its tail found his wrist and coiled tightly around. His thumb and finger came together and the head collapsed with a sickening crunch. Insides oozed from between the fingers and the body slumped from his wrist. 

Amur be damned, that was a poisonous snake, he realized by the markings on its' back. He doubted they had antidotes. She could have gotten him killed by making him piss out here. He was about to close his trousers and give her a piece of his mind when a thought occurred to him. A mischievous grin crept onto his face and his pecker twitched.

"Ouch!" he yelled.

His penis was still hanging free and he was cursing loudly when he burst from the trees. Taria was in a panic trying to figure out what all the shouting was about. Relief washed over her face when she saw him, but shifted quickly to disgust when her eyes dropped to his exposed manhood. She turned away, her cheeks crimson.

"Put that thing away," she demanded.

Belar ignored the comment and dangled the dead snake in front of her, "I was bitten."

Taria looked at the snake, trying to ignore his exposed manhood. She continued to blush furiously.

"You know what this is?" Taria shook her head and Belar shouted, "This is a poisonous tree snake. If we don't get its poison out I'll die."

Taria's eyes went wide, "I… we don't have any antidotes."

Belar barely maintained his serious demeanor; he had hoped as much, "Then you'll have to suck it out."

Taria looked like a cornered animal, "What… what do you mean?"

Belar grabbed her by the tunic and pulled her close, "If I die, your sister dies."

Her face filled with resolve, "What must I do."

Belar felt his cock twitch in anticipation. It was about to be sucked by a priestess of Amur. He released her tunic and pointed to his penis. She followed his finger and turned away in embarrassment. He cupped her chin and turned her head back towards him.

"It bit me while I was pissing," he explained, "The poison has to be sucked from the bite."

Taria cringed and looked down at his penis. It twitched excitedly under her gaze. He guided her down with his hands and she kneeled before his naked penis, her face contorted with revulsion. She inched towards it and quickly recoiled back when her lips came in contact with the tip. Belar savored every second. She took a moment to regroup before inching forward again. Her lips brushed against the tip and he felt the air being drawn in as she inhaled.

"That won't work," Belar told her, "You have to put it in your mouth."

She backed away and looked up at him with distaste. Belar gave her a cold glare and motioned for her to hurry up. She looked back to his cock, took a deep breath and moved forward. The head of his penis slipped between her soft lips and they closed around it. He felt her suck inwards.

"Not like that," he said with frustration, "You have to work the poison out."

He reached behind her head and pulled her towards him. Her eyes went wide as his cock plunged deep into her mouth.

"Like that," he said when her mouth was completely stuffed, "Now suck the poison out."

Her lips tightened around the shaft and her jaw started to move as she sucked on his cock. He grabbed her ponytail and eased her head backwards. The pressure from mouth remained as her lips slid back along shaft and he shuddered with pleasure. He stopped her when she reached the tip.

"Perfect, now this time use your tongue as well."

Belar could not help but smile as she nodded in understanding. His cock disappeared into her mouth once more and this time he felt the soft caress of her tongue along its bottom. His eyes rolled up in pleasure as she worked her way back. He had never experienced anything like this. These were not the broken lips of some dockside whore, but the gentle lips of a priestess. When she reached the tip a second time, she looked up as if to ask if that was right. He nodded and motioned for her to continue. She closed her eyes and plunged down the shaft once more. Everything else faded away as he watched her milk his cock. The Onekyh, her sister, it all suddenly seemed non-existent. The only thing that mattered was this gorgeous creature kneeling before him. 

Jolt after jolt of pleasure shocked through his body and he began to moan his approval, "Yes, yes, that's it. Keep going."

Taria continued to work his cock, ignoring the encouragement. Belar shivered, she was getting better. Her lips now slid easily over the wet surface and her tongue was in constant motion. Belar began to hungrily move his hips, pushing his cock deeper and deeper each time she took him in. Excess saliva escaped her lips and trickled down her chin. He slid his hand behind her head and forced her to speed up. Her head bobbed faster and faster and her ponytail brushed the back of his hand as it swayed with the motion. His seed threatened to burst free and he clenching his butt together to try and hold it off. The pleasure from those amazing lips was too much and he knew he could hold it off no longer. 

He felt his seed surge up the shaft and into Taria's unsuspecting mouth. Her eyes opened in surprise and she shot backwards. His cock popped free and continued to convulse, white liquid spurting from its tip and onto her cheek. Belar pointed his face skyward as the orgasm coursed through his body. He felt more semen push free before the orgasm died down. He looked down to see Taria kneeling on the ground spitting the white liquid out of her mouth. A grin split Belar's face.

"Good work," he said, "I think you got it out."

Taria's head shot up angrily and Belar noticed a glob of his semen stuck to her cheek. He liked the sight.

"For a dying man, you sure seemed to enjoy yourself," she said accusingly.

Belar shrugged, "Its not my fault the snake bit me there."

Taria wiped the sticky glob from her cheek and looked at it in disgust, "Is this your seed?"

"Aye, it was the only way to get the poison out."

Taria's eyes narrowed as she wiped her finger on the ground, "We've wasted enough time."

She rose and stormed towards the horses without another word. Belar chuckled quietly and stuffed his limp pecker back into his trousers. Francis was right; it is worth having a priestess of Amur along! Taria had already mounted when Belar started walking. He gave his horse a gentle pat and pulled himself into the saddle. Taria snapped her reins before he finished and surged forward. Belar laughed and followed her down the trail.

Neither one spoke as they traveled deeper. Their surroundings grew steadily darker as less and less sunlight broke through the trees above. Belar pushed the pleasant memories from earlier to the back of his mind and focused on the job at hand. He was on high alert as he scanned the dark gaps between the trees. Taria must have been able to sense his apprehension as she began to look around nervously.

The tiny stone in his pocket quivered and Belar yanked his horse to a stop. Taria pulled beside him and opened her mouth to speak. His hand clamped around it, silencing her. He slowly turned his head and scanned their surroundings. Judging from the light, they were not yet in the forest's heart. The tiny stone continued to shudder and Belar heard the crack of a branch. Whatever it was, it was close. He jumped to the ground and pulled the war hammer free. Taria stared at him, eyes wide with fear.

He tossed her his reins and whispered, "Try to keep the horses under control."

She nodded and clutched them to her chest. The stone was now shaking furiously. He dropped the hammer's head to the dirt and started drawing a circle around them.

"Tell me about the Bolog attack," Belar whispered as he drew.

"Huh?"

"Tell me what they did," he said more forcefully this time.

Belar did not look up, but could hear the pain in her voice, "They came in the night; it was the screams that woke us. My mother came to my room and rushed me to the pantry. It was too small for both of us, so she told me to wait inside and she would come for me when she could. She said I had to be strong and no matter what I heard to sit as still as possible. I tried to ask what was happening, but she just put her finger to my lips and told me I had to be quiet. She then emptied a jar of flour over me and closed the door."

Belar stood in the center of the circle and listened to her story. He envisioned himself in the house and that Taria was his daughter. Anger began to course through his veins.

"Shortly after, I heard the crack of a door splintering. I knew whatever had come was trying to get in. I heard my father yell, followed by an ear shattering squeal and his screams. I can still hear those screams."

Rage gripped Belar now. He could see the Bolog breaking into his home, attacking his family. He could hear his family's screams. The branches to his left broke apart and a large beast bounded out. Coarse black hair covered its wolf like body and saliva dripped from its toothy grin. Its yellow eyes burned with hunger. Beside him Taria screamed.

Belar set his feet and brought the hammer up as the beast lunged forward. It slammed into an invisible wall just before it reached them. Belar unleashed a primal roar that it would have been hard pressed to match and charged forward. His eyes were blood red and he was filled with rage, with hate. The beast had only just regained its footing when he burst from the circle. The hammer whistled as it blurred through the air, arcing towards the beast's head. It barely reacted in time and the hammer flew harmlessly past. The beast sprang towards Belar an instant later, hungering for human flesh.

In Belar's heightened state, the attack seemed almost as if in slow motion. He saw the beast leap towards him, maw opening wide. He released the swinging hammer, knowing he would be unable to bring it back in time, and instead dropped his shoulder to charge the beast. His shoulder smashed into the open maw and he pushed the animal backwards. He felt sharp teeth puncture his tunic and dig into his flesh as they started towards the ground. Belar used his weight to drive the beast into the dirt and felt bones break beneath him. The teeth slid free of his flesh and the beast howled in pain. Lost in his rage, Belar lunged at the beast's throat. His teeth found the soft flesh of its neck. Hair and blood filled his mouth as they dug in. The howl turned to panicked yelps and Belar felt claws scrape across his chest and thigh. He ignored the pain and bit deeper, searching for the beating artery. He swung his fist around and pounded the beast's head.

Blood spurted from the corners of Belar's mouth and the claws slowed to a stop. He continued to pummel its head with his fist until a gentle hand touched his back. The limp body fell from his mouth and Belar shot to his feet. Dark blood streamed down his chin. He roared and spun towards the new threat.

"Belar, no!" Taria screamed.

His fist stopped inches away from her outstretched hands and the blood drained from his eyes. His mind cleared and he realized what he had almost done. He slumped to the ground, drained.

Taria rested a hand on his shoulder, "Are you okay?"

Belar closed his eyes and breathed deeply, releasing his rage. Pain flared throughout his body as senses awakened. The beast's claws had left deep cuts in his chest and thigh and his shoulder was in tatters. Belar winced as Taria touched the broken flesh. Warmth began to seep into the wound and he heard her chant.

"Amur bless this wound. Amur bless this wound."

Belar's rage flooded back and his hand shot to her throat. She opened her eyes in surprise and gasped for air as he lifted her from the ground. He could smell her fear. Fueled by the rage, he began to tighten his grip. It was her blue eyes that brought him back. They pierced through the blood lust and ignited his memories. She was Taria, his ally. His grip relaxed and Taria fell to the ground.

"Do not use your magic on me," Belar said through clenched teeth.

Taria nodded between teary-eyed coughs, her chest rising with each deep breath. Belar turned away from the painful sight and limped to his horse. He could not believe the horses were still there. He would have to ask her how she had managed that. The horse whinnied at the blood covering him, but he calmed it with a gentle pat and opened the saddle bag to retrieve one of the healing potions. He popped the stopper free and drained the contents. Hot fire flooded his veins and his hands balled into fists. His skin felt as if two giants were using it to play tug of war. The pain was excruciating. Tears filled his eyes and he fell to his knees.

He rocked back and forth on the ground as the potion took its course. After what seemed lifetime, the fire in his veins started to diminish. The pain dwindled to a dull ache and Belar's hand went to his shoulder. Solid skin met his touch and he verified his chest and thigh as well. Everything checked out. Belar silently thanked Francis and rose to his feet. Taria was still on the ground where Belar had dropped her, sobbing. Belar crossed to her and extended his hand. She backed away like a frightened animal.




Belar the Mighty: The Lost Sister Ch. 02



"I'm okay now," he said gently.

She looked into his eyes a moment before warily taking the offered hand. He pulled her upright. She wiped the tears from her eyes and looked at the bloody remains of the beast.

"What was that?"

"A dire," Belar replied, "And judging from its size, an old one."

Taria shuddered, "Are… you okay?"

Belar nodded and showed her the skin underneath the ripped holes in his tunic, "The potion did its work well."

Taria gave him a weak smile.

"We need to get moving. The smell of blood will attract more," he told her.

Belar could see she had more questions, but she did not argue. He retrieved his hammer as she crossed to her horse. With the hammer was back in its holster, he checked the dead beast. Vacant eyes stared back at him as he pulled the head up and pried open its mouth. Many of the teeth were shattered from the fall, but he found a few still in good shape. He broke them off and shoved them in his pocket. Dire teeth fetched a good price with the alchemists. He released the large head and it thudded back to the ground. Belar ignoring Taria's inquisitive stare as he mounted his horse. A flick of the reins set the animal in motion and they headed deeper, towards the forest's heart.

To be continued…



Belar the Mighty: The Lost Sister Ch. 03



I would like to thank my editor and those who provided me valuable feedback!

To the readers: Sorry for the extended delay since Chapter 2, this story took me in a direction I was not expecting and it is much different than the draft I wrote years ago (and was very unsatisfied with). I hope you all like it, and I promise Chapter 4 will be up in a reasonable timeframe. As always, please let me know what you think!

Chapter Three

Belar and Taria navigated the winding forest trail in silence for quite some time. Belar could sense the fear emanating from the small priestess beside him. She had seen him unchecked, had witnessed his blood rage in full force. This was typically the point at which most people stopped associating with him. For Taria, that was not an option. Unlucky for her, he thought.

Belar reached down and grabbed the waterskin hanging off the side of his saddle, noticing how the priestess jumped at the unexpected motion. He sighed, took a deep gulp of water, and scanned the forest around them. Very few strands of sunlight were piercing through the weave of treetops now, and the trail they followed was so overgrown that it was almost nonexistent. Belar still recognized the area, but they were approaching the point where even he usually turned back when hunting; and Belar did not know of anyone in Lanos who hunted Blackrock Forest as deep as he.

"Are you okay?" Belar asked, breaking the silence.

Taria turned towards him and stared for a second. Fear was evident in her features and Belar was surprised at how much that pained him.

"Yes," she said finally.

"I call it the blood rage." Belar replied, answering her unasked question.

"The blood what?"

"The blood rage," he said again. "You know how it feels when your blood rushes before a fight?"

The look on her face said she hadn't the faintest clue what he was talking about.

He realized he was not explaining this to someone with combat experience and decided to try different approach, "When the dire attacked us, did your heartbeat quicken?"

"Yes," she said with a nod.

"That is your fear making your blood rush," he explained, "It can make you run faster or swing your weapon harder. Seasoned warriors know this and use it to their advantage."

Her face twisted in confusion, "But I have never seen any other—"

"Let me finish," he said, cutting her off. "Seasoned warriors understand this rush. While the name changes depending on who you are talking to, they all are referring to the same thing."

Belar gave her a moment to take in what he was saying before continuing.

"Fear is not the only thing that causes the rush, anger can as well. The difference is that when anger causes the rush, your training often disappears as well," Belar explained. "Perhaps you have heard the saying, 'An angry soldier is a dead soldier?'"

The slight widening of her eyes indicated that she had.

"Well, that is the meaning behind that saying. Each time a soldier is foolish enough to let anger control him, he invites death."

"But, you wanted me to tell you my story. You wanted to get angry..." Taria replied, trailing off as she worked to put the pieces together.

"Aye, I did. It's different for me. For me, the rush caused by my rage seems to be greater than that of others. When it happens..." Belar paused searching for the right words, "It is as if everything slows down."

"Is it..." she began hesitantly, "Is it because you're Onekyh?"

"No, I don't think so," Belar responded thoughtfully, "I have not met many Onekyh, but those I have met do not share this similarity. Most are far more beast than I though."

"Have you met any others like you?" she asked, now genuinely curious.

"If there are others, I've never met them," Belar replied.

"So this, uh, blood rage, it makes you faster, stronger?"

"Aye, it pushes my body to the limit and dulls my pain," he explained, "It is a boon in battle, but a curse in everything else."

"Why would it be a curse?"

"You saw how I reacted to your touch," he said with a sigh, "When in a blood rage, I become blinded by my fury. I will attack anything that comes close." He noticed Taria shudder, "That is why I work alone."

Belar hated the sympathy that flooded her crystal blue eyes. He turned away; he did not want her pity. They rode in silence, reflecting on what was just said. The awkward silence was broken when his stomach grumbled angrily, reminding him that it was past time to eat. He heard Taria snicker at the sound and actually smiled a little himself. It was good to hear something cheerful.

"Sounds like something else is raging," Taria jested and Belar's smile morphed into a full-fledged chortle.

He turned to see Taria wearing a wide grin and marveled at how beautiful she was; even more so now that her frown had been replaced with a smile.

"Aye, and let me tell you, a food rage is no laughing matter!"

Taria joined him in laughter. What a sight they would have made right then, two travelers cracking jokes and laughing while winding through one of the most dangerous patches of forest this side of the Nariba River.

When Belar's laughter abated a bit, he reached into the pack at his side and pulled one of the cheese wedges free. Before taking a bite, he surprised himself and offered some to Taria.

"Thank you," she said as she broke a chunk free.

Belar nodded and devoured the remainder of the wedge in three enormous bites before reaching into the pack for another. The healing potion he used earlier only accelerated the body's natural healing capabilities and the result left the user famished. He was almost done with the second wedge when Taria spoke again.

"Uhm, what should I do if you go into one of these blood rages?"

"Stay back," Belar responded between bites, "Just stay away and let it run its course."

Taria nodded, she appeared to be growing accustomed to the idea, a reaction that both earned his respect and left him speechless. Nobody, not even Francis, treated Belar the same after seeing his rage. To most people he was one step above a wild animal, something that Belar had learned to accept. Yet, somehow, Taria was not treating him in such a manner.

Trying not dwell on it, he turned his attention back to their surroundings. The vibrant green canopy from earlier was now tainted with dead branches — a sure indication that they were nearing the most dangerous portion of the trail.

Belar had only trekked this deep into the forest once before, and that had been many, many years ago, during his reckless youth. Hunters in Lanos made a living off of Blackrock Forest, and the deeper a hunter went, the more valuable the quarry. The rarity of hunters willing to venture deep inside made it so. Belar, in his infinite, youthful wisdom had deduced that the most valuable quarry must reside in the forest's heart. It was only logical. If no hunters were willing to travel there, then whatever lived inside must be worth a fortune.

The memories flooded back to him as vividly as if they had occurred yesterday. He guessed that one does not forget a day like that. He had traveled the same path they were on now, but veered towards the deepest part of the woods at a junction he and Taria would soon reach. He remembered the dry, cracked brown trees which seemed to almost grasp at anything living. He remembered wondering why the deepest part of the forest would be dying. But, what he remembered most was the smell — if death had a smell, that would be it. That smell had unnerved even his youthful naivety and within minutes he had turned back. Belar was no longer a young man, a veteran of countless battles, bar brawls, and street fights, but at no point in his life had he ever come across a smell like that again. Hell, at no point could he remember feeling fear as he felt that day.

"Belar?" Taria asked at his side, "Are you alright?"

Her voice snapped him from his daydreaming, "Aye, just remembering the last time I went this far into Blackrock," he replied and immediately regretted it when her smile disappeared.

"Was it... bad?"

"Nothing we can't handle," he lied, "Plus, we are not going the way I went."

"Good," Taria replied with relief, "How much longer do we have?"

"About two hours to reach the North woods, then an hour or two until we reach the northern edge," Belar explained. "We should reach the entrance to the caverns that the Onekyh used to inhabit before nightfall.

"Used to inhabit?" Taria interjected, her voice rising a bit.

"Yes, used to. It's not like I visit often."

"What if—"

"Then we will figure out what to do then," Belar said, halting her question.

Taria opened her mouth as if to say more, but decided against it and turned away, pain showing once more. Just as before, Belar found himself confused at how much that bothered him. "What is wrong with you?" he asked himself silently.

He was about to distract himself with another cheese wedge when the smell hit him. The smell transported him back to his youthful excursion. He felt a rare sensation building once more... fear.

Belar frantically scoured the trees lining the forest trail for any indication that whatever carried that scent had found them. They were close to the junction he had taken years ago and further into the forest than he had come at any point since. He barely noticed Taria start sniffing the air beside him.

"Wh—" Taria began, but Belar slapped his hand over her mouth.

The look on his face silenced her. When the small stone in Belar's pocket sprang to life, he knew that whatever carried that stench had found them. Belar did not even bother loosening his hammer. His instincts, honed from decades of training and combat, told him to run.

It was then that he saw them, two blazing red eyes seeming to almost dance with excitement in the darkness that lived between the dying tree branches. Belar would later swear that the roar which followed caused the ground to tremble. Taria's scream barely registered in its wake. His instincts took over.

Belar dug his heels deep into the horseflesh beneath him and felt the animal surge forward. With inhuman quickness, he snatched the reins of Taria's horse. A jolt of pain surged through his shoulder as he forced her horse to follow suit. The action almost pulled him to the ground and he knew that most men would have been unhorsed. The cracking of dying branches behind him told him that whatever owned those eyes was in pursuit.

It took every ounce of Belar's ability to guide the horses as they blazed down the winding trail. He gave thanks to Francis for getting them trained warhorses. When the trail finally straightened, he spared a glance in Taria's direction. The look on her face and the uncanny shade of white that blanketed her features unnerved him.

"SNAP OUT OF IT WOMA—" Belar began to scream as he turned his gaze in the same direction as hers.

His words came to a screeching halt. If he had thought the eyes were bad, the rest of the Amur-forsaken creature was worse. The remnants of what appeared to be a mammoth creature was bounding down the trail behind them, snapping good sized trees as it barreled through. Most of the creature's skeleton lay bare, but a few splotches of dead or dying skin somehow clung to parts of the sickly yellow bones. Those blood red eyes still seemed to dance in the blackness of two gaping eye sockets that sat above a massive jawbone rich with jagged teeth. Belar had never even heard of any creature which fit the description of what he was seeing, and whatever it was, he knew that it should have died long ago. The deathly stench it carried made perfect sense.

Had Belar still been the naive, inexperienced hunter who had traveled to this area so many years ago, he doubted he would have lived to tell the tale. Instead, instincts cultivated over the years since guided him. Those instincts pulled him from his stupor, forced his gaze back to the front, and jerked the reins of his panicked horse in time to miss a tree which had invaded the forest trail. His mind awakened once more to the tiny stone shaking furiously in his pocket. Without considering the consequences, he pulled the stone from his pocket and hurled it at the forsaken creature.

Belar had received the stone as a gift, given by a wizard he saved during a battle long ago. "It will warn you of danger," the wizard had told him, "And should the situation be dire enough, it will disintegrate with a powerful flash." The stone had repaid Belar's service to the wizard many times over in the years since, and now in its' final act, saved their lives. A moment after he sent the stone flying over his shoulder, the air around him went bright white and a soundless explosion deafened his ears. It felt as if his head had been plunged underwater. When the sensation passed, the beast's roars shook his eardrums and caused his eyes to water. Blinking away the tears, Belar did his best to focus on the trail and ensure that neither horse slowed. In reality, he doubted he could have slowed either horse at that point anyways.

His horse was the first to break. He felt the telltale tremble and knew the beast's collapse was imminent. By that point, he had regained most of his faculties and the angry roars had dissipated some time ago. Belar dug his heels into the horse's flank and yanked on the reins. The horse's head pulled to the right as the animal's left front leg buckled. As the broken animal crashed to the ground, Belar sprang off its haunches and tucked into a ball before slamming into the ground. The impact rattled his bones and sent fiery surges of pain through his body, but as he rolled to a stop, he could tell that nothing was broken. Looking up quickly, he saw Taria's horse disappear down the trail. He hoped she came to her senses quickly or he would not be bringing both sisters back.

Ignoring the pain, he shot to his feet and dashed to his now shrieking horse. He pulled his massive war hammer free and sent it arcing into the horse's skull. The piercing shrieks ended with a crunch. Unsure of how far they had traveled, he stared a moment down the trail, listening for any indication that the beast still followed. Once satisfied, he turned back to the dead horse, closed his eyes for a brief moment, and gave thanks for the animal's sacrifice. The horse had rolled, crushing one of the saddlebags. Thankfully, it had not been the bag which contained the potions. Belar salvaged what he could of the contents and secured the potions in his hunting pouch before setting off in the direction Taria's horse had fled.

The horse's path would have been easy for a novice hunter to follow. He cursed his ineptness more than once as he followed the stream of broken branches and hoof prints. "Why did I let go of her horse?" he asked himself. At every turn, he wondered if he would stumble upon the priestess' lying broken beside her dead horse. It would be his fault. The thought frightened him immensely and he did not know why. Of course he didn't want the woman to die, but he had seen plenty of death in his life. Why was it so important that he find her alive? Belar's step unconsciously quickened.

When he finally heard a horse's whinny, he breathed a sigh of relief—the horse was alive! Belar broke into a sprint. He rounded a corner in the trail and saw Taria's horse lying on its side near a tree that had grown into the trail. The bloody red mark on the tree's trunk told him much of what happened. Yet, unlike how he had imagined it, the priestess was nowhere in sight. Belar's hammer was halfway from its holster when he paused; the horse's whines were not grave enough given the circumstances. Sliding the hammer back into its holster, he knelt beside the horse and ran his hands along the beast's neck. It wasn't broken? He noticed that the horse's front leg was limp, which explained why the animal was still on the ground.

"What happened here big fella?" Belar asked with a gentle pat.

The horse snorted in response and Belar stood, scanning the area with keen eyes. The horse's tracks ended at the tree. The animal had definitely crashed into it, and yet, it was still alive? By all rights, this horse should be either dead or dying. Was it the priestess' work? There were no visible footprints on the trail beyond the tree. She had not gone that way... why? He noticed a twig hanging loosely off to his left and immediately shifted his attention to the area. The moss on the ground was also depressed. She wandered off the path and into the forest?

Belar had only taken two steps in that direction when he noticed the notch in a nearby tree bleeding sap. It looked eerily similar to what one would expect to see after pulling a dagger free. Belar's gaze swung in the opposite direction and took stock of the way the tree branches on that side of the trail were bunched closely together, far too close to be natural... an ambush? Had they already reached the northern woods? He guessed it was possible. He was not entirely sure how far they had traveled while escaping that creature. Belar was still piecing the puzzle together when he heard Taria's scream.

Perhaps it was his Onekyh blood or perhaps it was decades of hunting, but Belar could weave through the forest with unnatural quickness for a man of his size. He closed the distance between Taria's horse and her scream in less than half the time it had taken her to run it. When he reached the small clearing, he was greeted by the sight of the priestess standing with her back against a rather large tree trunk and her arms weaving quickly before her. Three men dressed in dark greens were slowly encircling her, cautious of the faint aura that was forming around her hands. A fourth man was writhing on the ground, clutching at the dagger handle protruding from his stomach. I guess the dagger did come in handy, Belar thought.

"Now, now, pretty," he heard the man in the center say, "We just want to play a little."

Belar was still taking stock of the situation when the man on the left moved. His hand snapped forward and Belar's eyes were barely able to pick out the tiny blade before it plunged into Taria's right thigh. The glow around her hands flickered out as the weaving ceased immediately, replaced by a shriek of pain. Belar watched aghast as the priestess crumpled to the ground.

The anger that swept through his body sent him into a blood rage greater than anything he had experienced in his tumultuous past. In the moment before rational thought ceased, Belar registered shock at how furious the sight of Taria falling made him. The roar he unleashed did not cause the ground to tremble, but it did stop all three men in their tracks.

The first man had not even fully turned to the new threat when his head disappeared, leaving a red mist in the massive war hammer's wake. The headless body actually kept turning for a moment before dropping to the ground, but the blur that was Belar had already passed. The second man caught a glimpse of the giant that was crashing down on him before the hammer found his chest. The last thought of his life was to wonder why he was flying backwards. The third man, to his credit, got his short sword pointed in the right direction and had started to fall into a somewhat seasoned stance when the war hammer came arcing in his direction. His mistake was his natural reaction to try and parry the blow. The war hammer slammed through the blade and then through his head, finally coming to rest at his ribcage.

The beast of a man that turned on the last highwayman, still lying on the ground, would have given even the holy knights of Lanos pause. The bandit was no longer writhing, but instead stared in wide-eyed horror at the giant methodically marching in his direction.




Belar the Mighty: The Lost Sister Ch. 03



"Please, please don—" the man started before the thud of Belar's hammer silenced his plea.

His fury was so strong, that he actually started to walk out of the clearing and back towards the forest trail, intent on tackling the beast they had barely escaped hours ago.

"Belar?" a strained voice called out behind him, tugging at his cloudy consciousness, "Belar... don't leave..."

Belar turned towards the voice and her tear-stricken face brought him back. A flood of foreign emotions filled the void left behind. He closed the distance between them in a few strides.

"Bel... Belar," the priestess stammered, "Are you... okay?"

"Aye, the rage is passing," he replied as he knelt beside the wounded priestess.

"G... good," she replied. Without warning, the priestess wrapped her arms around his neck and locked him in a firm hug. "Thank you."

The action left Belar thunderstruck. All the fighting and training did nothing to prepare him for this. After a long moment, her grip ceased and she pulled away. Her eyes widened when she saw the tears he knew were forming in his own eyes. He quickly brushed the moisture away.

"Stupid bugs," he stated, looking away. "I, uh, suppose we should get moving."

"Yes, I suppose so." Taria replied and Belar turned back to see a hint of a smile on her face. The smirk was immediately replaced with a cringe of pain as she attempted to rise.

"Let me," he said and slid one arm under her legs and the other around her shoulders.

He lifted her with ease and turned them back towards the clearing.

"That... you... how?" the priestess sputtered as she looked across the carnage that had once been four bandits.

"I don't know," Belar responded honestly.

He could not remember the blood rage ever taking him like that. The devastation was magnificent, even by his standards. The medicine men of Athys would have been lucky to piece together a single man from the body parts that still remained. He felt the priestess' gaze on him and also felt the blood rushing into his cheeks. He set off across the bloody clearing, refusing to return the look in fear of how he would respond. Amur be damned, he was acting like a bloody stable boy!

Belar easily guided them back to where Taria's horse lay. He did his best to focus on their next course of action, but his mind was incessantly drawn to the firm, lithe woman lying in his arms. The mere touch of her arm around his neck drove him crazy, and he could not fathom why. More than once, he mentally scolded himself and commanded his mind to focus! Only to become more frustrated when his mind and body ignored the order. The whole ordeal was so mentally exhausting that he was actually relieved when they reached the trail and he finally was able to set her down.

"Let me get one of the potions," he said, turning towards her horse.

"Thank you."

He took a step towards the horse and stopped, wanting to smack himself. The potions were in his bloody pouch now! He sheepishly reached into the pouch at his waist and pulled the remaining healing potion free, hoping the priestess failed to realize his foolishness. The look on her face suggested she hadn't.

"Uh, here you go."

"Thank you," she replied again, not commenting on the oversight.

The priestess pulled the stopper free and downed the contents. Taria's eyes widened with anticipation for a moment before her tears flooded back. A face took on a resolute look and Belar watched her begin to rock back and forth. He knew that pain and he was impressed at how well she was taking it. This was a strong woman. For the first time since this all began, Belar acknowledged to himself how much he appreciated her companionship on this journey. That realization was astounding. He was a man who needed no one, and all this woman had been so far was a hindrance! Why in Amur's name would he be grateful for her presence?

Refusing to dwell on the uncomfortable thoughts, he turned to the nickering horse. Taria's horse was still one the ground and after a thorough check, he concluded the horse was lame in the front left leg. The horse would be of no further use on this journey, and he doubted it would survive long after they left. It would be a kindness to put the animal down quickly. Belar sighed and began to pull his hammer free once more.

"Wait!"

The exclamation halted the action and Belar turned towards the priestess.

"Give... give me a... moment," Taria said through clenched teeth, "I... I can see... to the animal."

The last few pieces of the puzzle slid into place. That was why the horse's neck was not broken! It had been the priestess. Belar stood there awkwardly for a moment, not really knowing how to comfort the woman or the horse. Instead, he fell back into what he did know and began a quick sweep of the immediate area. He doubted any other bandits would be present, but he needed to do something.

When he returned, he found the priestess was kneeling beside the horse, her hands working a complex pattern above the horse's wounded leg. Her whispering was barely perceptible from this distance and he could not make out what she was saying. His disdain for priestly magic kept him from moving any closer and he watched as she finished the ritual. When Taria's hands finally slowed, she climbed to her feet and the horse followed suit. Belar had to admit, he was impressed.

"That's useful," Belar said as he walked towards them.

A smile lit up her face in response, and Belar blushed like a stable boy for the second time that day.

"I, uh, are you okay?" he said, trying to regain some semblance of control.

"Yes, thank you again. Those men..." she trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid.

The thought alone threatened to reignite his fury.

"Pitiful men. Too weak to serve in the guard and too pathetic to find honest work," Belar said with disgust.

Taria nodded and he saw the approval in her eyes, "Well, at least they will not harm anyone else."

That was an understatement, Belar thought.

"Can you ride?" Belar asked, nodding towards her leg.

"Yes," she replied and smoothly mounted the now upright animal as if to accentuate the point.

The horse nickered in response, apparently just as excited to be walking once more.

"Is your horse?" Taria asked, looking around.

"Gone," Belar said without emotion.

Moisture filled the priestess' eyes as she nodded solemnly, "And that... thing?"

"Gone as well."

"Wh—what was it?"

"I've no idea, but I'm guessing it is why no hunters return from deep in the forest."

He did not fault the priestess for the fear she showed as she looked back the way they had come. He was ashamed to admit that he had felt the same fear himself.

"What now?" she asked.

"Well, bandits mean we must be getting close to the northern edge," Belar explained, "If we follow the trail, it should take us out near the Onekyh's cave."

Taria nodded, "How far?"

"I am not sure," Belar shrugged, "I am not as familiar with this area of the forest."

A look of realization crossed Taria's face, "Are you okay to walk?"

"Aye, I don't usually ride through the forest anyways," Belar said with a laugh, "Tends to scare the animals."

Taria looked at him perplexed for a moment before a look of comprehension crossed her face as she remembered he often hunted these woods. To cover up the oversight, she flicked the reins on her horse and started down the trail without another word.

Belar was thankful for the silence as he struggled to come to terms with the jumble of emotions he was experiencing. The effect this woman was having on him was incomprehensible. She rode beside him, back straight and a confident look on her face. The same woman who had experienced a dire attack, survived an encounter with the forsaken beast that lived deep in this forest, and had nearly been raped and killed by bandits. Amur be damned, he was a little shaken from it all. Yet, here she sat, riding towards a cave full of Onekyh, and somehow looking confident. The whole thing left him awestruck, and Belar was a little thankful when a much more recognizable emotion began to emerge—lust.

That is not to say that Belar did not feel some guilt at his natural reaction to watching her ride. The way her legs gripped the horse, the curves of her hips, and most of all, the unmistakable bounce of her bosom as she rode. It all added up to a bulge in his trousers that was becoming more pronounced by the minute.

Belar tried to turn his attention from the priestess and refocus his attention on their journey. Thoughts of what they would do when they reached the forest's edge, how they would get into the Onekyh's cave, how they would find her sister, all flashed through his mind. Yet, it always came back to those bloody bouncing tits and worst of all, to the events of this morning. His quick glances slowly morphed into open stares. Even the priestess was not that oblivious to her surroundings.

"Yes?" she asked finally.

"Uh, nothing, I was just wondering, uh, how the leg was doing?" Belar asked, trying to cover his tracks.

"It's fine," Taria replied and shifted the leg around a bit as if to affirm the statement.

"Great," Belar replied and felt stupid when he failed to come up with anything else conversational.

Taria gave him a confused look, "Do you think we are getting close?"

"Aye," he replied, thankful for something to talk about, "See how the trees are thinning."

The priestess glanced around and nodded in understanding.

"If I am right, we should be getting close to a small lake. The forest's edge is only half an hour or so further."

As if on cue, they rounded a bend in the trail and spotted a lake in the clearing up ahead. Belar's chest swelled a bit.

"Wow..." Taria said with genuine surprise.

"That would be the lake," Belar bragged, acting as if he had expected it to be just around the corner all along.

"Uhm," Taria started hesitantly, "Do you... think we could stop for a moment?"

"Stop?"

"Yes, I wouldn't mind cleaning up a bit." Taria responded, somewhat abashed.

It was then that Belar became fully aware of just how bloody he was. His clothing was practically caked in both dire and bandit blood. Taria was not nearly as bad, but she had not escaped the carnage in the clearing unscathed. In reality, they looked pretty haggard, even if the priestess still somehow managed to shine through the muck.

"Good idea. I would not mind cleaning up a bit myself."

The look on Taria's face indicated that she had been planning on requesting he do just that. With that, the two travelers veered towards the lake, to do something Belar so often neglected—take a bath.

The realization hit him as Taria gracefully dismounted, the priestess was about to clean up... Did that mean she was going to disrobe? His prick immediately shot to attention and his vision fixated on the object of its desire. His devious mind also sprang into action.

"I, uh, don't think we should separate," Belar stated.

"What?" Taria responded in surprise.

"Well, this close to the forest's edge, and, uh, with the bandits..."

"Oh," Taria replied, her face darkening in thought, "I... guess that makes sense."

The priestess looked at the lake for a moment with indecision.

"Why don't you go there," she said finally, pointing to their left, "And I will go over here."

Belar nodded, "Just stay within sight. I don't want any surprises."

She nodded back, and the deep red that filled her cheeks was incredibly alluring. Belar turned towards the lake before she became aware of the noticeable bulge in his pants. When he neared the lake, he glanced in her direction and saw that she had also reached the lake's edge. He could not peel his eyes away as she pulled her tunic free. Somehow, even her bare back sent shivers through his body. He quickly shifted his gaze forward when she turned her head towards him. Amazingly, he removed his boots and blood-stained trousers before giving in to the overwhelming desire to turn back. When he did, he was rewarded with a glimpse of her naked breast as she waded into the lake. He knew then that he was going to have to take care of himself before they left the lake. He looked down at his prick, now pointing skyward. There was no way he could fight like this, and there would probably be more fighting on this journey.

Belar tugged his filthy tunic over his head and entered the lake himself. The water was cool, but even it could not diminish what looking at the priestess had started. Not a man to bathe often, he comically splashed a bit of water over himself in an attempt to clear the dried blood and dirt. All the while, his attention remained on anything but his own body. More than once, his glances were greeted by Taria also glancing in his direction. He would sheepishly turn back, a little embarrassed. That embarrassment would disappear quickly though, and the result left him sneaking another peek. After a series of glances, Belar resolved to focus on bathing and, to his credit, lasted a few minutes.

He was so focused on not peeking that he completely failed to hear Taria's approach. Her touch on his back startled him to the point that his trained reflexes kicked in and he swung around so powerfully that the priestess was sent staggering backwards. Her arms flailed against the water as she fell beneath the lake's surface. Her head reappeared a moment later and she started coughing up the ingested water.

"S—sorry," he stammered, not thinking about her nudity for the first time in quite a while.

The priestess waved her hand as if to say it was not his fault as she finished coughing. Belar began to take a step in her direction, but paused, unsure of the appropriate response. Why did she come over here, he silently asked himself.

"I, ahem, I'm sorry," she finally said between coughs, "I did not mean to startle you."

The realization that this woman had snuck up on him dawned on the seasoned hunter. It was his turn to blush. That blush deepened when the priestess finished her coughing fit and turned fully in his direction.

While everything was technically covered by the water, a good portion of her bosom was on display, and the rest was hinted at just below the water line. What the previous incident had done to diminish his rigid prick was immediately restored. Belar tried his best to look at her face, but failed miserably.

"I..." Taria began and slowly stepped towards him.

The action was so unexpected that Belar nearly retreated. Now he did look into her face, trying to unravel the puzzle. Her blushing, unsure expression did nothing to answer his questions. She closed to within an arm's length of his body and gently placed her hand on his bare chest. He shuddered under her touch.

"I... I want to..." she began again, "Thank you."

Belar stood there, fully confused. Her hand began to trace along one of the many scars that lined his chest.

"So many," she whispered, "Have you ever known peace?"

Belar did not respond, but he hated the moisture that returned to his eyes. This woman... what was she doing to him?

Her hand traced one of his deeper scars, earned during mercenary work protecting a rich merchant's caravan. The man who had given him the scar had ended up eerily similar to the bandits in the clearing. That memory came to a jarring conclusion as her hand left the scar and traversed downwards.

"I thought..." Taria whispered, "I thought I might... uhm, say thank you by doing... doing what we did earlier."

Belar shuddered when her hand reached his nearly bursting cock and her soft fingers wrapped around the flesh. It occurred to him that maybe the beast in the forest had killed them after all and now he was simply dreaming.

"I mean... only if, uhm, if you want to?" Taria finished, blushing profusely and sounding more unsure of herself by the minute.

That got his attention, "I would like that," he replied, instantly cursing the banality of his response.

Taria must not have felt the same because her hand slowly worked its way up his cock and then back down. After all of his daydreaming in the past half hour, the sensation felt heavenly. Her hand pumped his cock a few more times before traveling upwards to find his own hand. Belar allowed himself to be led from the lake and watched as her intoxicating body emerged from to water's surface. He was finally privy to the priestess in all her glory.

When they reached dry land, the priestess turned back towards him and Belar's breath caught. Her hand was still in his and she made no effort to cover herself. Every curve was on full display and for the first time in his life, Belar simply stared at a naked woman slack-jawed. Those sparkling blue eyes locked on his and she gave him the slightest smile. Belar's heart was now pounding harder than when his rage was in effect. He felt her hand slip from his and watched dumbfounded as she dropped to her knees before him. The scene was nothing like what had happened earlier that day.

Those soft hands found his manhood once more and he quivered under their touch. The emotions funneling through his body were all new and he did not understand their implications. He was simply left gawking at the beautiful woman kneeling before him. For the second time that day, those lovely lips wrapped around his cock and took him in. Taria needed no instruction this time as she sucked along the shaft and slowly traversed back to the tip. Belar was moaning audibly long before the first repetition was completed and grunted when the flesh disappeared into her mouth once more.

He was enthralled; her full lips gliding along his cock, the sway of her hair as her head bobbed back and forth, and the bounce of her naked breasts below it all. Powerful sensations wracked his body. He was not a man who courted women, nor was he a man whom he felt women desired. The only sex Belar had was sex he paid for, and not with the prostitutes men craved, but with the ones who had reached the point where they would accept his offer. So, to have a woman, especially this woman, choose to do this was riveting. Standing there, experiencing a level of passion that had always been absent from his previous encounters, Belar came to the realization that he wanted more.

"Errgh, st—stop," he grunted.

As his cock slipped from between those soft lips and the glorious sensation halted, Belar cursed his bloody emotions.

"Is... is something wrong?" Taria said, looking up at him and wiping saliva from her chin with the back of her hand.

The part of Belar that he knew, he understood, demanded that he push his cock back into her warm mouth and let this gorgeous woman finish what she started. Belar suppressed that part and instead took her hand, guiding the priestess back to her feet.

"I don't," he halted for a second, "I don't want it to just be about me."

Taria looked at him in obvious confusion, and it was Belar's turn to shock her by leaning down and kissing her. At first her lips remained rigid, but she did not pull away. After a moment, they began to respond in kind and he felt her hands slide around him. Everything was a haze. Somewhere along the way they found the ground. When their lips finally split, Belar was leaning over her prone body. Without a word, he kissed his way down her neck and nestled between her lovely breasts. He felt Taria shiver as his lips worked across each luscious mound and traced circles around her nipples. Belar smiled at the shudder he invoked when he finally flicked his tongue across the nipple's firm nub. He continued to play with her tits for a time, not entirely sure who was enjoying the experience more.

By the time Belar reluctantly shifted his attention from Taria's firm breasts, moans of pleasure were regularly escaping her lips. He continued his trek across her taut stomach and into her womanhood. The scent of her arousal filled his nostrils and her body welcomed his attention. Belar's tongue slid along her widening flower a few times before finding its way back to the sensitive tip.




Belar the Mighty: The Lost Sister Ch. 03



"Oh, oh!" he heard her exclaim in response to his tongue finding her clit.

Belar slowly traced a path around nub with his tongue before teasing her a bit by flicking the tip of his tongue lightly back and forth across the surface. That earned him another exclamation and her hands found their way to the back of his head. Her fingers began to burrow into his hair and he felt the pressure from their grip pushing his head further between her legs. He decided he had teased her enough and began to fully swirl his tongue across her clit. The motion elicited a primal moan.

"Oh, oh, OH" he heard her gasp, "Yes, oh yes!"

Belar did not relent when her legs clamped against his head or he felt her shudders begin.

"YES, OH, OH, OH YES!" Taria practically screamed, giving into the sensations.

The hands on his head were no longer pressuring him into her womanhood, but were outright demanding it. He felt her shudders morph into full body convulsions and Taria's hips lifted from the ground to push herself against his tongue, demanding more. Belar was all too happy to oblige.

"OH, OH MY, AMUR BE BLESSED!" the priestess screamed with a lustful passion.

Her shudders slowed as her orgasm peaked and Belar felt her strong legs finally loosen their grip on his head. His gaze shifted upwards, past two mountains heaving erotically, and took in the look of complete satisfaction evident on her face. Taria seemed content at the moment to lay there, her eyes closed, breathing heavily, and allowing the residual tremors to course through her body. Belar found enjoyment in the glow that she exuded and lost himself in the moment.

When those crystal blue eyes reappeared, Belar awakened and without a word, began his slow trek back up her body. Sweat glistened on its surface, hinting at the intense pleasure a moment before. Quivering hands slid down to his cheeks and guided his face towards hers. The satisfaction was still evident in her features, but he also saw tears. Before Belar could even ask the question, Taria pulled his head towards her and kissed him deeply. All questions evaporated under that kiss and Belar unconsciously moved fully between her legs. His cock found its way to her womanhood, and they were still lost in the embrace as it slid into the inviting opening.

Belar did register the resistance he hit, but having only experienced tavern whores in the past, he was unaware of what it meant and pushed past. He heard the priestess gasp and broke from their kiss. A tear had escaped her left eye. Taria closed her eyes and guided his lips back to hers, an action he readily accepted. His cock was now fully within her and the sensation was beyond any he had known before. Her womanhood seemed reluctant to let go of him as he slowly pulled away, and then greedily devoured him when he plunged back inside. The flood of pleasure that jolted through his body sent him to new heights. It was his turn to moan.

Somewhere in the process, Taria's legs worked their way around his lower body and began to accentuate each thrust. Coherent thought disappeared and Belar was a slave to the pleasure. Each thrust was a gift. When Taria's soft hands left his head to scratch a path along his back, Belar shivered with excitement. This was so much more powerful than anything the tavern whores had done. No man could have lasted long and the surge started all too quickly. Belar finally broke free from those mesmerizing lips and grunted.

"UHHHH!" he gasped and pushed fully into her, releasing his seed in a series of vigorous spurts.

Belar remained in a carnal haze until the intense waves of pleasure slowed. When he opened his eyes, he found Taria staring back at him, looking exhausted, but smiling. They were still fully connected and Belar found immense comfort in the feeling.

"I—" he began, but Taria silenced him with a brief kiss.

"That was beautiful," she said, "Let's leave it at that."

Belar laughed and shook his head, "I don't understand women."

It was Taria's turn to laugh and it was music to his ears.

"Says the Onekyh, blood raging, whatever you are," Taria replied and Belar laughed even harder.

They were still laughing like fools as they disentangled themselves and lay beside one another, lost in the moment. Belar's mind unfortunately found its way back to reality and he realized that what he was feeling would not last. The sobering thought saddened him. He turned to see Taria staring at the sky, apparently having similar thoughts.

"Do you think she is dead?" Taria asked without looking at him.

"No," Belar answered.

"I don't... I don't know if I could bear her being dead..."

The tears returned and Belar watched a teardrop slid free and trickle down her cheek. He wanted to wipe it away, but remained motionless.

"I'm sorry," Taria said, finally turning to look at him. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this."

The look of anguish on her face shattered what remained of the surreal experience.

"Don't be," Belar said without hesitation.

"But—"

Belar cut her off, "She will be at the cave and we will bring her back."

His tone of voice silenced her and she turned back to the sky. He watched as a resolute look returned to her face and remained silent when she started to rise. Even the gravity of the situation did not make him immune to the naked body moving beside him. He soaked in every bounce and sway with stark admiration. As she brushed the loose grass from her backside, she noticed his gaze.

"We need to get moving," she told him, hands on her hips and looking down at him.

"Can't blame a man for admiring the view," Belar replied with a wide grin.

The response elicited a blush and the look she gave him held more than a bit of the Taria he had grown accustomed to earlier. Belar decided not to press his luck and climbed back to his feet as well, his eyes never leaving her body as she made her way back to her clothes. At that moment, his mind was a mush of emotions that he did not understand. He was certain of one thing however; he would die for this woman. Her sister had better be alive and well or he would kill every Onekyh in that cave.