By Zapper

Synopsis: Logan a former Navy SEAL left the teams to pursue work as a civilian contractor and landed a job working the Elite Security Firm. The Firm specializes in providing security to the rich and influential. Logan was hired to protect Molly Falk except that things become much more complicated when after a shooting he’s offered an unexpected position by Richard Falk (Molly’s dad) to protect Molly. Enter the Medallion of Zulo and Logan soon finds himself in Molly’s shoes, literally. As Molly and Logan try to adjust the terrorists attack and they are forced to use an artifact to escape to the Falk estate. Finding themselves in a new world Molly and Logan are soon caught up in events in Nevrast as Morgoth attempts to destroy the remaining Elves in that land. War has come to Nevrast can Molly and Logan survive and return to earth?

Author Note:

1: This story is based on the Altered Fates Universe concept established by Jennifer Adams, however I’ve taken some artistic liberties so this story doesn’t strictly adhere to the rules Jennifer established.

2: This is also a fanfic of the J.R.R. Tolkien world of Middle Earth in an untold tale of the First Age. Please note; I didn’t stay completely true to the Middle Earth that Tolkien set up. This is my take on what Middle Earth in the First Age might have been like.

3: I want to send a big thank you to Eric for beta reading and offering plot ideas and Mr. 20' Biceps for reading my drafts and giving me sound advice proofreading! This story is much better because of their efforts!

Logan was bored. Boredom was a part of his profession and was something he’d gotten used to during his time with the Teams. He grinned ruefully, yep, on the teams it was generally hours of boredom, followed by minutes of sheer adrenaline pumping action, and then more boredom. ‘Some things never change, and some things do,’ Logan thought. He scanned the parking lot from the driver’s seat of his black SUV. Logan had left the U.S. Navy about a year ago, and it had been one of the hardest decisions he’d ever made. Being a Navy SEAL had been a dream come true, he’d loved the action and the camaraderie, but the job had taken its toll. Logan had lost friends in battle and had knee surgery after tearing the ACL in his left knee during a training HALO (high altitude low opening) jump. There is a reason why there are so few ‘old’ SEALs on the teams, so after eight years Logan had decided to get out.

Just then Logan spotted Molly walking out of the athletic facility. Molly was the only daughter of Richard Falk and it was his job to protect her. Molly was a senior at the University of Michigan and played on the women’s varsity tennis team. She was a tall athletic red head and if Logan wasn’t getting paid to protect her he’d have asked her out. At the moment Logan was trying to be discrete as he watched Molly make her way to her Mercedes.

Then it happened. A plain white van jumped the curb between the parking lot and the street and screeched to a halt behind Molly’s car. The sliding door flew open and two men jumped out heading straight for Molly. Logan acted without hesitation. He pushed the emergency button on the small fob like device he wore around his neck and threw the SUV into gear punching down on the accelerator. The device around Logan’s neck only looked like a key fob. It sent a signal to the company Logan worked for alerting them to the fact that Logan had an emergency situation.

One of the two men grabbed Molly by the arm, but before the other guy could get a grip on her Molly swung her gym bag at him aiming for his groin. Unfortunately she missed. He twisted to one side avoiding the bag, but it slowed him down. The first attacker, who had Molly by the arm, lifted his hand to backhand her when Logan crashed all five thousand pounds of his armored SUV into the driver’s side of the van. Even though he’d only been doing twenty miles per hour on impact the force pushed the van into Molly’s Mercedes and the car parked next to Molly. This wedged the van in place and trapped the driver. Logan was out and moving before the two terrorists trying to grab Molly understood what was going on.

Back on the teams Logan would have just drawn his M9 and shot these clowns but in the civilian world the ROE (rules of engagement) was different. The guy Molly had slowed down with her bag turned to confront Logan in time to take both projectiles from Logan’s Taser in the chest. The man dropped to the ground twitching spasmodically as 300kV hit him.

Logan looked over at the terrorist who’d been holding Molly and saw that he had one arm around her waist and in his other hand he was now holding a semi-auto, pressed into her temple. Logan dropped the Taser and drew his Beretta 96A while moving forward into a classic Weaver stance. He activated the LaserMax and spotted the green dot. Logan adjusted his aim slightly, putting the dot in the center of the terrorist’s forehead. However, Logan hesitated, the military used the Beretta 92 9mm, because Logan was now a civilian he could pick his weapon and he’d gone with the 96A because of the greater knock down power of the .40. This wasn’t what caused Logan to hesitate. If he shot the would-be kidnapper and the guy convulsed while dying he might squeeze the trigger. With the gun pressed to Molly’s head even this terrorist puke couldn’t miss. Logan’s job was to protect her so at the moment he couldn’t risk the shot.

“Back off or she’s dead!”

The accent was middle-eastern confirming for Logan this was the group that had been threatening Mr. Falk and his family for over a year now. Suddenly, Molly moved, ducking forward and away from the gun. This was all the opening Logan needed and before the terrorist could react he squeezed the trigger twice. The man’s head exploded as the rounds smashed through it.

Just then there was the sound of tires screeching, the guy who’d been driving the van had it in reverse and was trying to pull it out from where Logan had wedged it. Not waiting to see if Molly was okay Logan raced to the front passenger door of the van. The driver, upon seeing Logan, frantically tried to pull a weapon from his shoulder holster. Logan fired again and the passenger’s side window exploded as Logan’s rounds struck home.

Mr. Richard Falk was very wealthy, and from what Logan had heard, he’d made his fortune in middle-eastern oil and then later on by trading ancient artifacts. There had been threats against Mr. Falk and his family by a group linked to Al-Qaeda for over a year. After the first attempted kidnaping and the death of his wife Mr. Falk had hired protection from a private security company called the “Elite Security Firm,” or just the “Firm” to most of its employees. The Firm consisted mostly of former SpecOps guys recruited from all four branches of the U.S. Military for this type of work. Although Logan chuckled when he thought of the name, because the “Elite” part could also be a reference to what the Firm charged for security.

Logan slowly sipped his beer not really paying any attention to the buzz of conversation around him. Just before the cops had shown up another SUV from the Firm had arrived. Logan spoke briefly with Molly before the cops took her for questioning and had been impressed with how calm and level headed she was. The police took her statement and then the Firm, using the second SUV, had taken Molly home. Meanwhile Logan had to go downtown to make his statement. His gun and Taser had been taken by the police as evidence and Logan had been allowed to go home. The next day Logan’s supervisor explained that he was now on “administrative” leave. It was all part of the Firm’s SOP. Logan would be off for a few days and then have to go through a series of counseling sessions to make sure he didn’t have PTSD from the shooting. Once the police had cleared him of any wrong doing and the Doctors gave him a clean bill of health he’d be allowed to return to work.

“What a bunch of crap!” Logan muttered, staring morosely into his half empty beer.

“Logan Campbell?”

At the sound of his name Logan looked up and spotted a tall thin elderly man with dark blonde hair going grey at the temples. The man was standing a few feet away looking over at Logan with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Logan said and then something clicked. He’d never spoken to Richard Falk, but he’d seen him when he worked the estate detail. “What brings you down here, Mr. Falk, and where is your security?”

The man grimaced slightly and then motioned to an empty chair across from Logan.

“May I sit down?”

“Sure, as long as you’re buying.”

“Miss, two of whatever he’s drinking,” Falk said, to the bartender before sliding into the chair across from Logan.

Besides the expensive clothes, Logan noticed there was something odd about Falk. Most well-to-do folks would have been uncomfortable in a dive like this, the sawdust and peanut shells on the floor all by itself should have made him uncomfortable. But if it did, Falk hid it well.

“So what can I do for you Mr. Falk?”

“Please, Richard, after all you saved my little girl’s life yesterday.”

“Okay, Richard, what brings you to a place like this?”

“I wanted to talk to you, privately, first to say thank you. And although it’s against the Firm’s policy I’d like to offer you a bonus.” Just then a waitress showed up with a pair of bud’s and clunked them on the table before disappearing again.

“I won’t turn down a bonus, particularly since I’m on “administrative” leave.” Logan made air quotes around the word “administrative.”

“Good”

Richard took a sip from the bottle before reaching into his suit jacket to pull out an envelope. He slid it over to Logan who folded it and put it in his jeans pocket without looking at it.

“You said you had more than one reason for being here?”

“Yes, I’d like you to come over to the estate tomorrow for dinner. I’ve got a business proposition I’d like to discuss with you. After what you did yesterday. . . I read the police report, as well as your statement, and I watched the video taken from the University’s security cameras. I’ve never seen anyone do the things you did. I’m very impressed.”

Logan didn’t say anything. Instead he drained the rest of his beer and picked up the fresh one. In the back of his mind he was surprised that Falk had gotten copies of the police report and had seen the video footage. He was obviously influential as well as rich.

“Come over at six for dinner and afterward we’ll talk business. The worst case is that you’ll have a great meal and turn down my proposition.”

“Well, I’ve got nothing going on for the next thirty days and I can always use a good meal.” Logan replied with a crooked grin.

“Excellent!” Richard reached out to shake Logan’s hand. “Unfortunately, I need to get going before my security team notices my leisurely drive is taking longer than anticipated.”

Logan watched as Richard stood up leaving a one hundred dollar bill on the table.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, please keep an open mind.”

The drive out to the Falk estate was one Logan had made several times as part of the estate security detail. That is until he’d been assigned to the team protecting Molly. Molly had her own place so it had been a couple of months since Logan had been here. As far as he could tell nothing had changed.

Logan had reported Richard’s offer to his supervisor and been counseled that the Firm frowned on its employees taking side jobs. But there really wasn’t anything the Firm could do particularly since Logan was on administrative leave. The way Logan saw it, until he was cleared, he could take any additional work he wanted.

It was a beautiful day and Logan relished the drive since instead of a company SUV he was driving his private vehicle. The 1972, Ford Mustang Mach 1 convertible growled and the power under the hood gave Logan a childlike thrill, the same as it did every time he got behind the wheel. Logan slowed the classic muscle car as he approached the wrought iron gate of the Falk estate. Stopping next to the pedestal, that housed a speaker and camera, Logan reached out to push the button when a voice stopped him.

“Logan, this is Paul, you can head up to the main house your expected.”

“Thanks, Paul.”

“No worries, oh. . . . Nice work, the other day.”

Logan grinned as the gate slid open and he gunned the engine before driving slowly up the winding driveway. Because he knew that there were cameras watching, and since he knew the location of each camera and the guys doing the watching, he made sure to give them the bird as he drove by.

Logan parked his Stang in front of the large entrance to the estate and climbed out. Since it was dinner, Logan had decided to dress up, cowboy boots, large buckle, and a plaid shirt with a tan jacket. Probably not a sight the Falk’s were used to seeing, but Logan figured they needed to know who they were thinking about hiring. To his surprise Molly opened the front door before he could ring the bell.

“Mister Campbell, it’s so good to meet you, again. Thank you, for coming to dinner, and for your help the other day.”

For a second Logan didn’t know what to say or how to respond. Molly was wearing a black cocktail dress that started just above her breasts and stopped just below her knees. The dress was tight, expensive, and left little to Logan’s imagination. Coming to a stop in front of Molly Logan realized that she was only an inch or two shorter than him. Molly extended her hand as though to shake Logan’s hand, but he scooped her hand up and kissed her fingers.

“It was my pleasure, Ma’am, the other day . . . and tonight.”

Molly flushed a bright crimson clearly visible with her pale complexion. “I must say you’re more handsome than I remember.”

Now it was Logan’s turn to be slightly tongue tied, “Thank you, ma’am, you’re just as lovely as I remember.”

“A silver tongue to go with a handsome face, I think I’m going to enjoy . . . getting to know you.”

Logan grinned broadly at having charmed Molly, “I’m at your disposal.”

“Ooh, be careful, I may hold you to that!” Molly giggled slightly at Logan’s confused expression. “Please, come with me, Maria has set us a small dinner in the library. Oh, did you bring an overnight bag? My father’s dinners can sometimes go late and often involve large amounts of alcohol.”

Logan stepped into the mansion planning to follow behind Molly however, she had a different idea. Molly tucked her arm into Logan’s forcing him to walk next to her.

“Sounds like my kind of dinner.” Logan responded with a grin, “I’ll be fine. I keep a bug-out bag in my car.”

“A bug-out bag?”

“Ah, sorry, for the military jargon, a small bag with just enough essentials for a day or two.”

“Oh, why do you call it a bug-out bag?” Molly asked, sliding closer to him as they walked, and then she glanced up and over at Logan between her long black eyelashes. The move subtly displayed Molly’s cleavage and Logan had to tear his eyes away to meet Molly’s.

“In case I have to leave in a hurry, you know, bug-out.”

At this Molly giggled showing a set of dimples, “How clever. But you don’t have to worry about leaving in a hurry. After what you did for me, my father practically wants to make you a member of the family.”

Logan didn’t know how to respond to this so decided to change the topic. “Can I ask you a question? Do you always answer the door, ma’am?”

“Please, you saved my life, you can call me Molly. And no, daddy asked me to get it since he’s given the staff the night off.”

Logan met Molly’s eyes for a second. “Fine, I’ll call you Molly, if you call me Logan.”

That settled, Molly led Logan toward the library. Although Logan had the floor plan memorized from his time working security on the estate, it was pleasant to be led around by this lovely creature.

“Sort of ostentatious, isn’t it?”

“I was thinking that you have a beautiful home.” Logan replied trying to be diplomatic. The vaulted ceilings and marble floor was a little over the top.

“You have to understand. The men my father has had to deal with are mostly middle-eastern and they expect a certain level of opulence in their business partners or they wouldn’t think he was up to the job.”

Logan nodded in response. He had been on the estate before so this wasn’t new. What was new was that Molly and her father were taking an interest in him. Molly led Logan to a side door, her high heels clicking against the marble floor, and then up a staircase into the wing the security team referred to as the ‘family’ quarters. As they walked down a second floor corridor their footsteps were now muted by a runner of plush carpet that ran the length of the hallway. They passed one closed door after another until Logan spotted the portrait of a beautiful woman looking down at them. Molly paused seeing what Logan was staring at.

“That’s my mother.” Then after a painful pause, “She was killed a year ago during the first attempt on my father.”

“I know. It was in the background package the Firm gave me to memorize when I took this job. I’m sorry for your loss.”

At this Molly squeezed Logan’s arm, but didn’t say anything. Instead she started walking again and soon they reached their destination. Molly slid open a heavy wooden door and Logan noticed immediately that the air within the library was cool and dry, obviously climate controlled to protect the books. The size of the library and the number of books was impressive.

As he followed Molly Logan noticed that the room was circular and it had two levels with a high vaulted ceiling and a pair of steep staircases that would allow access to the main floor. Molly led Logan forward moving through pools of colored light cast by the stained glass windows along the far wall and then down the steep steps to the library floor.

“Is your dad a fan of American history?” Logan asked glancing at the scene depicted in the window.

“More like a student of history in general.” A man’s voice responded.

Logan and Molly stepped onto the hard wood of the main floor and Logan looked around for Richard. In the middle of the room a table had been set for dinner. It had several covered dishes, an open bottle of red wine, and an ice chest to one side with bottles of beer poking out of the ice. Logan could smell the delicious aroma of whatever was under the covered dishes.

“Welcome to my home.”

Logan glanced to one side finally spotting Richard Falk as he set a book down and stood up. Logan was again struck by the fact that although his clothes were expensive here was a man comfortable in any setting.

“Thank you, sir. All of this is appreciated, and unnecessary.”

“Nonsense, you saved my daughter’s life a simple dinner, to say thank you, is nothing next to that!” Richard moved forward and shook Logan’s hand. “And please, call me Richard. Come let’s eat before things start to get cold.”

Dinner wasn’t what Logan had expected, salad, followed by steak, potatoes, corn-on-the-cob, with freshly baked bread, and for desert a simple piece of apple pie with vanilla ice cream on the side. The whole meal had been set out in warmers and Richard and Molly seemed to find a great deal of pleasure in being able to eat family style instead of having someone bring them each course.

As the meal progressed Logan found himself relaxing, Molly and her dad weren’t what he’d been expecting, and Logan found that it was easy to talk to them. Once dinner was over Richard pushed his chair back with a groan of contentment.

“Logan, one of my weaknesses is a fondness for cigars. Would you care to join me for one?”

“Sure.”

“If you gentlemen are going smoking then, I’ll go freshen up. And maybe try something else on.”

Logan glanced over at Molly’s lithe figure appreciatively, before he followed Richard out a small unobtrusive door onto an intimate patio protected on three sides by a tall hedge. The patio had a set of expensive looking outdoor furniture and was tastefully landscaped. Night had fallen while they’d been eating but the patio was lit by a pair of tall wrought iron lamp posts. After the men left Molly walked over to the chair where Logan had draped his jacket and took it with her as she departed.

“Try one of these,” Richard extended a small case he’d taken from his pocket that held four cigars. In short order the ends were clipped off and the two men were puffing contentedly.

“Richard, I appreciate the meal, but you said something about a business proposition?”

“I’d like to offer you a job.” Richard said coming straight to the point. “But first I need to ask you a question.” After a minute when Logan didn’t respond Richard continued. “Have you ever encountered anything that you can’t explain?”

“Like a hunch or a gut feeling?”

“Yes, but more than that, have you ever walked into a building and thought you’ve been there before knowing that it’s impossible?”

“Sure, why?”

“What I’m getting at is the existence of forces and powers beyond our understanding.”

“Are you talking about magic?” Logan asked feeling slightly amused.

Richard had been looking intensely at Logan and now he looked away. “I’ll do anything to protect my daughter. I’d like to hire you to protect her.”

“Richard, you’re already paying the Firm a lot of money to protect you and your daughter. What can I do that they’re not doing?”

At this Richard glanced cautiously back at Logan. “I think that the people who want to hurt me and my daughter have many resources including large sums of money. I think the Firm has been compromised. I don’t know if they’re paying someone on the inside or if they’ve just hacked the computer system. But that attack on my daughter the day before yesterday was too organized and far too coincidental.”

Logan nodded slowly. “Something’s been bothering me about that situation, I think you’re right. Normally there are at least two agents on duty. My partner had a family emergency so I was solo. That was the first time Molly only had one guard protecting her in months. And there was a mix up with vehicles so I was late arriving on campus.” Logan’s mind was now racing as he replayed the morning’s events.

“Exactly,” Richard agreed.

“So what did you want me to do?”

“I’d like to disguise Molly and send her away for her own protection.”

“And you’d like me to go with her and protect her?”

“No and yes . . . I’ve acquired an object that allows a person to assume another’s identity. I’d like to use this object on both of you.”

“I don’t understand. I mean, I get disguising Molly, but why me? I’m not famous. The terrorists don’t know what I look like and if I’m not with her, how can I protect her?”

At this the sound of the library door opening caused Logan and Richard to turn around. The light from the library was much brighter than the patio and it was in Logan’s eyes making it difficult for him to recognize the man walking toward him.

“I’d like you to take Molly’s place while she goes to a resort in the Caribbean in yours.”

“This isn’t possible,” Logan whispered, stepping backward in shock. The man had stepped out of the light and Logan now found himself looking into his own face.

“Hi, Logan, don’t you recognize me?” The man asked using Logan’s typical crooked grin while hooking the thumb of his right hand in his belt. “I’m sure you recognize the clothes, they’re from your bug-out bag.”

“Who are you?! What the fuck is going on?! Why do you look just like me?” Logan said taking another step away from his doppelgänger.

“It’s me, Molly, and I can prove it.” With that Molly reached into her front pocket and pulled out a medallion.

“That’s impossible, there’s no way you’re Molly!”

Ignoring Logan’s comment Molly glanced at her dad who gave her a slight nod. “I’m sure by now Daddy has asked you about magic. Well, the fact is magic is real, and this is called the Medallion of Zulo.”

“That’s impossible.” Logan said getting angry. “Look I may not be the smartest guy in the world, but I know what I know, and what you’re saying is impossible!”

“If it’s impossible then how do you explain how I look?” When Logan didn’t say anything Molly continued, “If magic isn’t real you can prove us wrong. Put the medallion on and then hold this up to it.” In one hand Molly extended the medallion and in the other he held the black cocktail dress Molly had been wearing earlier.

Suddenly Logan was unsure of himself. He looked back and forth between Richard and the man who said he was really Richard’s daughter Molly. What if they weren’t lying? What if that cheap looking medallion could actually transform one person into another?

“I still don’t believe you. But if what you say is true, what will that thing turn me into?”

“As Molly said, it’s called the medallion of Zulo and it’s an ancient artifact.” Richard said causing Logan to glance at him. “After a considerable amount of time and effort I was able to acquire it. What it will turn you into depends on how you use it. In this case by touching it to Molly’s dress you’ll turn into a perfect copy of her. If you and I were to touch it at the same time we’d turn into copies of each other.”

“You want me to become your daughter?” Logan asked in astonishment his mind finally understanding what Richard had been asking him to do.

“Temporarily. Just until we figure out who’s behind the threats and plug the leak at the Firm. I’ll tell your company that I’m sending you on an all-expense paid vacation, as a way of saying thank you for saving Molly’s life. Molly, as you, will go on that vacation. You’ll stay here and pretend to be her. If they make another attempt on Molly’s life you’ll be in a perfect position to stop them.”

Logan glanced back at Molly who stood there silently holding out the medallion and the dress a look of challenge in her eye. “Are you afraid that you won’t be able to defend yourself without your big muscles and manly body?” she teased.

“I’m not afraid of anything!” Logan snapped back, “But I’m not interested in being a girl. Not even for a few days.”

“Will you do it for a million dollars?” The question was asked quietly but it got Logan’s attention.

“Come again?”

“I’ll pay you one million dollars if you agree to be Molly for the next thirty days or until we put an end to this threat, whichever comes first.”

For several seconds Logan didn’t say anything. Magic wasn’t real. Yet there was no way Logan could explain the fact that he was looking at his perfect twin. The guy even moved like him. Logan liked Richard and his daughter and didn’t want anything bad to happen to them, but what they were asking wasn’t possible and if it was could he deal with it? Then there was the money, in four weeks he’d make more money than he could in ten years as a bodyguard.

“Two million.”

Richard grinned, “One point five.”

Logan he held out his hand, “Alright what do I have to do?

Author Note:

1: This story is based on the Altered Fates Universe concept established by Jennifer Adams, however I’ve taken some artistic liberties so this story doesn’t strictly adhere to the rules Jennifer established.

2: This is also a fanfic of the J.R.R. Tolkien world of Middle Earth in an untold tale of the First Age. Please note; I didn’t stay completely true to the Middle Earth that Tolkien set up. This is my take on what Middle Earth in the First Age might have been like

Logan couldn’t help staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror in awed fascination. Dark red hair flowed down past pale shoulders and the large blue eyes had an innocent look that caught her breath. Logan couldn’t resist reaching up to run her slim fingers lightly over the smooth flawless skin. It felt surreal to Logan as she slowly touched her new dainty nose, then the delicate cheek bones and finally the small cute chin. Logan’s eyes were drawn further down to the twin bumps pushing out from the overly large men’s shirt.

After taking the medallion from Molly Logan had put it on and then wrapped the dress around it. Logan had felt a shock as soon as the fabric came into contact with the medallion and the shock was followed by a tingle throughout his whole body. He’d looked up to see both Richard and the guy who claimed to be Molly looking at him in fascination.

“Keep holding the dress to the medallion.” Logan’s doppelganger instructed. “You’ll need as many of my mannerisms and memories as the medallion can give you if you want people to think you’re me.”

Logan had complied, still a little skeptical, since nothing seemed to be happening. Several minutes slowly dragged by and just as Logan was about to ask if they were done with this nonsense a long strand of red hair fell into his eyes. At that point he realized that he was now shorter than both of the men.

“Oh shit!”

Molly stepped forward and tried to wrap his large hand around Logan’s now smaller one before Logan could let go. Unfortunately Molly was too slow and the dress fluttered to the floor as Logan held up his now delicate hands and stared at them.

“Damn it!” Molly said in frustration then glanced at her dad. “Do you think it was long enough?”

Richard looked at his expensive wrist watch, “He held the dress to the medallion for thirteen minutes and fifteen seconds. From the experiments I’ve done a full 30 minutes and he’d have had almost all of your memories and skills.”

“I know, daddy, we’ve already been over this, remember?”

“Yes, sorry my dear, so we were trying for fifteen minutes. Just long enough so that he’d be comfortable in your body, have your mannerisms, and some of your memories, but still retained his own skills and memories. At thirteen minutes? I don’t know, maybe it’s enough.”

“I-I don’t think . . . shit what happened to my voice?” Logan stopped talking mid-sentence as his voice cracked and changed. He glanced back and forth between Molly and her dad watching as they seemed to slowly get even bigger.

“Son-of-a-bitch, this is actually working!”

“Just try to relax and breathe Logan. It will be over before you know it.” Molly said trying to sound comforting.

Strange sensations assaulted his senses to the point that he couldn’t seem to focus on one particular sensation before the next hit him. Then there was a tugging twisting feeling from his torso and an unfamiliar weight began to drag on his chest. Logan reached up to touch the newly formed breasts just as he felt a tightening in his groin. The gasp was an involuntary reaction when he reached between his legs and felt smooth skin. Then it was over. Logan lifted the hand that he’d used in countless fist fights and stared at the slim, scar free, fingers with well-manicured nails.

“Shit, this is one sea-story none of the guys will believe.” Logan said as he slowly and experimentally groped his new breasts. Then louder, “I think I need to use a bathroom.”

“I understand completely, the transformation is quite shocking.” Richard said.

“You’ve used the medallion?”

“Yes, at first just to get a few years back and lose a couple of pounds. Then later I experimented with a few more drastic changes,” Richard replied with a strange gleam in his eye. “It has been very useful artifact.”

“What do you mean, it’s been very useful? How long have you had it?” Logan couldn’t resist asking.

“Just two months. I’ve used it to escape the estate and see how other people live, among other things.” Richard replied a little evasively.

“Daddy, let the poor girl be! Come with me Logan I’ll show you to the closest bathroom, if you’re having the same reaction I did the first time I used it, you’ll need to see the changes to really believe it.”

Logan woke up his head pounding and found that even though his head hurt he was laying on the most comfortable mattress, cocooned in blankets, with only the faintest ray of sunlight streaming in from the heavily curtained window. For a second Logan was very confused. The dichotomy between his pounding head and extremely comfortable nest distracted him. Then he realized the reason he had come abruptly awake was because there was someone in his room. The stranger had moved very quietly over to his bed and was reaching down to touch him. Logan reacted with controlled violence, he caught the wrist of the hand that was about to touch him and twisted it to one side bringing up his other hand to strike the elbow. As he did he realized that this guy must be huge because the wrist and arm felt very large and strong in his hand. Even as that thought flashed through Logan’s mind he brought his hand down on the elbow only to have the giant catch his wrist in a gorilla sized mitt.

“Logan, wake up, it’s me Molly. I was just checking in on you.”

The events of yesterday washed over Logan’s mind and he let out a soft, alien, feminine, sounding moan. “Oh, God, then it wasn’t a dream?”

“No, but after watching how much you drank last night, I’m guessing that you wished it was. I’m not much of a drinker and my body’s a lot smaller and lighter than yours. If I drank that much I’d have a wicked hangover!”

“Ugh,” Logan groaned again and relaxed back down into the soft bed. As soon as Molly felt Logan relax he let go of her wrist and moved away from the bed.

“Come on lazy bones. We’ve got a busy day.”

“What are you talking about? It’s Saturday, right? You don’t have any classes today.”

“True, but Daddy is having his assistant arrange for my “vacation” so I’ll probably be leaving tomorrow.”

“Um, okay, why can’t you just jump in the private jet?”

Logan sat up trying to ignore both the headache and the shifting weight on her chest. Molly pulled open the curtains and Logan started blinking at the sudden bright light that flooded the room.

“It would look pretty suspicious if Daddy sent a bodyguard, no matter how grateful, on a vacation and used his private jet. We don’t want to draw attention to me, remember?”

Logan nodded and glanced over at Molly, he had turned around and folded his arms over his new muscular chest. ‘This is so weird,’ Logan thought, looking at her former body. His hair was the dark black he’d inherited from his Italian mother while he’d gotten the height from his Scottish father. His face had a clean rugged look with a strong jaw. Adding to this was the lean athletic build he’d developed over the course of hundreds of hours spent in the grueling physical training required by the Teams.

“I never knew I was such a stud.” Logan heard a woman say and then realized he’d spoken out loud.

“I know, right?” Molly’s deep voice sounded delighted. “I think I spent more time looking in the mirror last night than you did! Before this, if I had to take a vacation from my life, I’d never have turned into a guy. But now, anytime you need a break from this beautiful body just let me know!”

“Hey, this isn’t a vacation. We have a job to do, yours is to stay alive, and mine is to keep your body safe.”

“Oh, yeah, I forgot, Logan is all work and no play. Well, I may have used the medallion to hide from the terrorists, but I plan to enjoy this experience. You should loosen up a little and try to enjoy it as well.”

Logan just grunted and climbed out of bed feeling flesh she’d never had bounce and jiggle while her silk pajamas slide erotically over her sensitive skin. As it did Logan felt her nipples grow hard like a pair of twin hard-ons.

“You know I never really saw myself from another’s perspective, but I’ve got to say, my girl-body is hot!”

“Okay, you’ve checked on me. Was there another reason for your visit?”

“Yup, I . . . err . . . I mean MOLLY goes for a long run every Saturday morning. From your memories I know you enjoy running so I figured we could go for one together before I leave. Besides, while the medallion might have given us each other’s mannerisms and a few memories we should probably talk and establish some ground rules.”

“Fine, if you’d get out I’ll get changed.”

“Why, you don’t have anything I’ve not seen a thousand times.”

“Not from that body you haven’t, and I’m shy.”

“Bullshit!” The expletive burst out of Molly, startling him more than Logan. Before Molly could recover from his shock Logan grabbed him by the arm and led him to the door. As she did Logan realized how large Molly’s bicep felt in her small hand and knew that if Molly wanted to he could have stopped her at any time.

“I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Logan shut the door behind the now amused looking Molly and went into the bathroom attached to her new bedroom. Knowing that she needed to hurry Logan tried not to think about the tasks she was performing. ‘Alright, focus on the mission,’ Logan thought. ‘Just take this one step at a time.’ Logan moved over to the toilet and after a second turned around and sat down to pee. It took a minute of experimentation to figure out that instead of squeezing muscles she no longer had, to drive urine down and out her dick, all Logan had to do was relax and squeeze new muscles and the pee flowed freely.

Then Logan realized that if she didn’t think about what she was doing the actions just came naturally. She wiped herself dry, brushed her teeth and hair, and then quickly put her long red hair up in a ponytail to keep it out of her face while running. She returned to the bedroom and dug out shorts, sports bra, socks, and shoes, somehow knowing exactly where they were. As long as she didn’t stop to think the actions felt normal but then Logan spotted her reflection in the mirror above her dresser. The gorgeous red head in running shorts and sports bra was someone Logan would have asked out in a heartbeat. Deciding to grab a running shirt Logan turned to go to Molly’s closet and spotted something on her back.

Twisting to look at her back in the mirror Logan saw just above the small of her back, a tattoo of a sexy witch-demon. Logan had to twist a bit more to get a better look and was impressed with how flexible she now was. The sexy female demon had a slightly over exaggerated figure. Her skin had a very slight red tint, a pair of small silver horns poked out of her midnight hair. She was wearing some kind of black corset that looked almost like armor while managing to show off her cleavage and tiny waist. Her skin tight black leather pants were tucked into knee high boots. Her demonic wings were partially spread and she was holding a Kris in her right hand while her left was surrounded by what looked like a burning pentagram. ‘What the fuck?!’ Logan thought, ‘The magic was so thorough it gave me her tattoo.’ This caused Logan to wonder if Molly now had his tats. Last night she’d been in too much shock to look.

Logan pulled on a tight running shirt and returned to the mirror and saw Molly’s beautiful image staring back. As she studied her reflection Logan wondered what her measurements now where and then she realized she knew. She was now 5’10” and weighed 120 lbs. She had a lithe athletic figure with entirely too much chest, hips that flared, and butt that was far too big, as far as Logan was now concerned, even though yesterday he’d thought that Molly had a perfect figure.

“Boy oh boy, Dorothy you’re not in Kansas anymore,” Logan said, looking at her reflection. “Okay, get it together Logan. You’ve got a job to do. Mission objective one, stay alive,” after pausing for a moment to cup her new breasts in her sports bra Logan shook her head. “If it weren’t for these boobs it’d be a piece of cake.”

The morning air was cool and it hit Logan like a slap in the face. For the first time in her life Logan felt the sensation of her nipples reacting to the cold by becoming hard. Fortunately, Molly had already started running and was out in front without a view of Logan’s new chest or she’d have died of embarrassment.

Pushing down her discomfort Logan focused on jogging. There were so many new sensations that it was tough for Logan to pick out the strangest. First, there was the lack of equipment in her shorts. The familiar feeling of her now missing manhood as it moved with each step was gone. Instead the tight female running shorts fit snuggly around her bottom. Then there was the crisp air hitting her now much more sensitive skin. Although as her body heated up from the run this sort of faded into the background. Logan had always kept her hair short Molly however had long hair and it now hung down past Logan’s shoulders. The hair moved around quite a bit as she ran and was surprisingly distracting.

Then there was the movement of the new flesh on her chest. When Logan had been guarding Molly she’d thought that Molly’s chest was perfectly sized for her body. Now Logan was having second thoughts. Even with the sports bra her chest moved around far more than Logan would have thought possible. In fact of all the new distractions this was by far the most annoying.

Logan followed Molly about half-way down the driveway before turning left onto a running trail. The trail was wide enough for two to run side-by-side and Logan had too much of an ego to just let Molly lead. With a short burst of speed she pulled up beside Molly and figured that talking would distract her from the sensations assaulting her masculine mind.

“This is pretty weird, right?”

“You can say that again. Although, I’ve got to tell you that your body is in amazing shape!” Molly said, enthusiastically.

“Uh, thanks, I guess. But this is just a little run and we’ve only been going for five minutes.”

“Ha! Before I woke you up I went down to the gym in the house and spent an hour lifting. Yesterday, I could bench-press 80 lbs. ten times and 135 lbs. once. This morning I pressed 225 lbs. ten times and 365 lbs. once! And right now I feel like I could just take off, this pace is barely causing me to sweat.”

Logan didn’t know what to say. Molly’s gleeful enjoyment of his new body had just driven home the fact that she was now so much weaker. She knew that she’d lost a lot of upper body strength but hadn’t really thought much about it. At least this pace wasn’t giving her too much trouble. Molly was a college athlete and as a tennis player she had great cardio so Logan picked up the pace.

“In that case let’s see who can get to the boat house first!”

Not waiting for a response Logan sprinted ahead feeling very light! She may be a lot weaker but she’d also lost a lot of weight! Soon Molly pulled up beside Logan and then slightly ahead. Logan knew this trail, perhaps not as well as Molly, but she’d scoped it out for security reasons several times. The trail wound through the trees and up and down a series of small hills, as both Logan and Molly settled into the run pushing their bodies, Logan started to plan. They soon moved off the property belonging to Falk’s as the trail joined a public running trail that lead into the lake community adjacent to the Falk property.

Logan stretched out her stride trying to cover as much ground with each step as possible, while controlling her breathing. Molly was pushing the pace forcing Logan to speed up or yield the contest. Her lungs were beginning to burn and Logan felt sweat running down her back and between her breasts as she ran. As weird as the sensation was she refused allow her body to distract her or to slow down. Instead she pushed harder drawing on her new body’s reserves.

Then they came to a series of switch-backs as the trail climbed a small but steep hill. Logan poured on as much speed as she could her lungs now felt like they were on fire and her breathing was ragged. Logan put her head down and focused on lifting her knees and pumping her arms, ‘attack the hill,’ she thought straining. She passed Molly who was now also breathing heavily, catching him by surprise. Logan used her position in the lead to take the inside of each turn forcing Molly to stay wide if he wanted to keep up.

When they got to the top of the hill they could see the lake and boathouse through the trees. From here it was a quarter of a mile to the Falk boathouse and all of it was downhill. Logan gave another burst of speed and knew that she was pushing her new body to the limit. But the sound of Molly’s footsteps right behind her drove her forward. Then they were running side-by-side.

“Nice try Logan,” Molly said, as he blew by in a full out sprint.

Logan did her best to match him but Molly’s legs were longer and each step took him further and further away. When Logan got to the boat house she came to a stop feeling her legs cramp and doubled over gasping for air. Logan did her best not to throw up as a fit of dry-heaves knotted her stomach muscles.

“That was a great run Logan. Its two and a half miles from the house to here. My personal record was nineteen minutes. We just finished that run in seventeen thirty a new PR and I hardly feel winded!” Molly said looking down at his watch and then over at Logan with a grin. “How are you doing?”

“I’ll be alright.”

At this Logan straightened up and looked around. The view of the lake from here was beautiful. The pristine blue water glimmered in the morning sun through the trees. At this time of morning there were almost no boaters out yet so it was very quiet and peaceful. There was a fence around the boat house where the Falk’s kept their boat along with a couple of jet-skis. Since neither Logan nor Molly had a key they wouldn’t be able to go into the boathouse. After a few minutes they started the run back to the estate only this time they jogged at a much slower pace.

“I’m sure that you’ve got my class schedule memorized.” Molly said looking over at Logan, “I’ve cleared my social schedule for the next two weeks. So all you have to do at first is just go to class, practice, and come home. Hopefully you’ll feel comfortable enough to go to the spring formal in three weeks, although no one has asked me . . . err . . . you yet.”

“I doubt I’ll feel like going on a date as you in three weeks.”

“You might change your mind. If you decide to go I wanted to let you know that I’ve already picked out a dress.” At this Logan grunted in an unladylike sound. “We should probably set up some ground rules. Don’t go out and get another tattoo and no new body piercings!” Molly said, and then after a pause, “I suppose if you want to have sex you can. I’m on the pill so you need to make sure you continue to take them. Just don’t get pregnant or we won’t be able to swap back before you experience the joy of motherhood!”

“What?” Logan sputtered. She didn’t know if she should be shocked or offended. Either way her face felt hot with embarrassment.

“It’s the medallion. If you’re pregnant it won’t change you until after the baby’s born. So don’t get pregnant!”

Logan focused on her running for a few seconds before she responded. “I think I can live with those rules. I expect you to follow them as well, oh, and you have to promise to exercise five to six days a week. I don’t want to get a fat out of shape body back.”

“Deal!” Molly replied, with a laugh. “I’m sort of an exercise junky anyway so I plan to see just how far I can push this body.” After this they ran in silence for a few minutes. “There are some things you should know about Daddy. He’s a good, kind, man, but he’s still hurting from mom’s death. He’s turned over control of most of his business interests and spends a lot of time collecting artifacts. He’s sort of obsessive about it.”

This wasn’t anything new to Logan since it had been in the file on Richard Falk. By this time they’d reached the point where they left the public running trail and headed back onto estate grounds. For a few seconds they ran in silence each very conscious about the way their new bodies were moving, and both avoided bringing that subject up. Abruptly, a loud explosion ripped the air and through the trees Logan could see smoke coming up from the mansion.

“What the fuck!”

The expletive burst out of both Molly and Logan nearly simultaneously and they stopped to stare. Then the crack of automatic gunfire sounded from the estate.

“Daddy!” Molly exclaimed and started sprinting toward the house.

“Molly, stop!” Logan shouted and after a second of hesitation took off after Molly.

Molly quickly outdistanced Logan and she realized that Molly had been holding back during the race to the boathouse. Now he easily disappeared. Cursing profusely under her breath Logan slowed down. It wouldn’t do any good to get to the house and run right into the arms of whoever was attacking the estate. Logan slowed down even more as she got closer. ‘I won’t be much help to anyone right now, armed with a sports bra and a pair of running shoes,’ she thought grimly.

Logan changed direction slightly heading off the trail and cutting toward the security command post. From there she ought to be able to talk to the guards and find out what was going on. The command post was set up in the space above the garage. The garage was a standalone building housing a dozen cars. The Firm had added an external staircase around the back when they’d been hired to handle security for Mr. Falk. As Logan approached the complex she saw that smoke was pouring out of the garage and the whole upper level was on fire. ‘So that was the source of the explosion,’ Logan thought, staring at the building. The command post was wired to the Firm’s headquarters and they should have gotten an alarm. Local authorities would be on their way, but it would take time. The sound of more automatic weapons fire from the house drew Logan’s attention. Time was something that Logan realized the Falks didn’t have.

Logan spotted movement out of the corner of her eye and turned in time to see Molly stand up, having used a waist high hedge for cover and grab a guy wearing a ski-mask holding an AK. Molly put one hand under the guys chin and the other at the back of his head and twisted violently. Logan couldn’t hear the sound of the guy’s neck snapping but knew he was dead by the way he crumpled to the ground. Molly collected the AK and disappeared into the house.

“Shit!” Logan muttered and raced across the lawn after Molly. Unlike Molly’s approach Logan was totally exposed coming from the garage instead of the running trail. She breathed a sigh of relief when there were no shouts in her direction or bullets kicking up dirt. Again, Logan heard the sound of gun fire from within the house. Now she’d reached the terrorist Molly had killed and took a minute to look him over.

Logan quickly pulled the ski-mask off exposing dark skin, hair, and beard. ‘Probably middle-eastern,’ Logan thought, as she checked the guy for a pulse. He was wearing street clothes. Jeans, boots, and a black t-shirt; over the t-shirt the guy was wearing a tan SecPro Level IIIA tactical combat vest. This was “soft” body armor with Kevlar padding in front, behind, and under the arms. It would stop a 9mm round and was much lighter than the MTV (modular tactical vest) with the heavy SAPI (Small Arms Protective Inserts) ballistic plates. There were several magazine pouches attached to the vest via webbing and a pistol in tactical holster on the left side under the terrorists arm. Obviously, designed for a cross-draw, also on the front attached to the webbing was a Bowie combat knife with the hilt low and the blade high. This would allow the knife to practically fall into the guys hand, once the release was pressed, if he needed it. Cursing her new weaker upper body strength Logan took the time to get the vest off the guy. This amounted to undoing the buckles, unzipping the vest, and then getting one arm out. After that Logan rolled him over and out of the vest. With this was done Logan quickly put the vest on cursing the fact that it was too big and that she didn’t have the time to adjust the straps for a better fit.

Once on Logan drew the 9mm and did a quick condition check. With a full mag and a round in the chamber Logan flipped the safety off and, feeling much more confident, moved into the house. One of the first things Logan noticed about the weapon was that it felt much heavier than she was used too! The second thing she noticed was that the grip was a little large for her hand. Even though she felt better, now that she had a weapon, Logan knew she had to be careful. She wasn’t used to using a weapon in this body and then there were so many other little things distracting Logan. The vest rubbed against the bare skin her shoulders and lower back. The ammo pouches were in the way and pushed uncomfortably against Logan’s breasts. This made it more difficult to keep proper form as she moved from room to room. If she had to wear this damn thing for any length of time she’d need to do some major adjusting of the straps and buckles.

Then Logan rounded a corner and spotted two guys with their backs to her wearing similar vests and ski-masks. Logan opened fire, knowing they weren’t from the Firm. At this range it was almost impossible to miss. The first guy went down with a bullet in the back of his head although Logan was so startled by the kick that her second round went wide. The second guy started to turn as Logan brought the gun back on target. She squeezed the trigger and the round grazed the side of his head as the terrorist threw himself back. Logan continued moving forward arms extended in a perfect moving Weaver stance and fired again and again. Her second bullet missed but the third took the terrorist full in the face before he could get a shot off. Because they had both been wearing body armor Logan had been forced to go for head shots and her lack of practice shooting in Molly’s body had almost cost her!

Moving forward Logan saw they both were carrying AKs. She holstered her 9mm and slung one AK over her back while doing a quick inspection of the other. Wishing she had pants with cargo pockets instead of skin tight running shorts, to allow her to acquire more magazines, Logan had to be satisfied with putting one AK mag in the empty vest pouch and a fresh mag into the AK she’d decided to use as her primary weapon system.

Once done Logan moved forward again going slow and trying to think. Richard would probably have been in the family wing when the attack had started. If he’d heard the fighting he was supposed to go down into the basement below the wing. There was a vault there and the Firm had looked it over and told Richard that it would work as a panic room. If there was an emergency he and Molly were supposed to go to the vault and stay put until help arrived.

Logan made her way cautiously through the quarters. From time to time she heard the sound of gunfire but instead of seeking it out she continued toward the lower level. Once in the family wing Logan opened the door that led down and heard the sound of gunfire. There were two staircases down to the basement below this wing. One at either end of a long hallway so far Logan didn’t see anyone so she continued cautiously down. At the bottom of the staircase Logan peaked around the corner. Half way down the hall there were a pair of doors on the left. Using one of the doorways for cover a terrorist was firing away from Logan toward the door that led to the other set of stairs. Logan couldn’t see who it was at the other end of the hall, but figured it was probably one of the guys from the Firm.

Logan took a deep breath and then moved forward rapidly. Not running, Logan moved at a very fast walk, the AK locked painfully tight into her shoulder, her cheek pressed into the stock. As she moved she kept the terrorist in the rifle’s iron sights. By the time Logan was two thirds of the way to the terrorist, whoever it was at the other end of the hallway had stopped shooting. This caused the terrorist to inch forward to get more room for a better aim. It also exposed more of the guy to Logan. The sound of the rifle firing almost surprised Logan as she pulled the trigger. The first couple of bullets tore into the terrorist while the rest went high. Logan was startled by the kick of the weapon and at how much it wanted to rise when she fired it. Another difference between this body and the one she was used to Logan thought angrily.

Logan moved quickly into the room stepping over the dead terrorist body. She spotted three other terrorists ducking for cover as she stepped into the room. Logan stayed low and moved to her left and kept up a steady fire on the terrorist as she moved. The rounds went wide, but they kept her opponent’s heads down. Logan continued to move to her left while firing to her right. Then her weapon ran out of ammo. Logan took a knee behind a metal display case and reloaded, fumbling for a second as the familiar task felt awkward with her new, smaller hands. Unfortunately, the break in fire allowed her enemies time to begin shooting. The sound of bullets snapping and ricocheting around her was one that she was familiar with, but it still got Logan’s attention.

Then someone came through the door firing a steady stream of rounds and moving quickly to the right. At the sound of an ally entering the firefight Logan was on her feet and moving. In a flash she saw that one of the three terrorist was down and they were turning to focus on the newcomer. Logan used the distraction to kill one of her two remaining opponents. Working as a team Logan continued to flank the last terrorist by moving further to her left and around the room while her ally moved similarly only to the right. In seconds they had the last terrorist in a cross fire and he went down.

Breathing deeply Logan looked over to see which of the Firm’s agents had come down to the vault and saw her own face looking back. At some point Molly had stopped and picked up a vest like the one Logan was wearing only it looked like it might be a little small on him.

“God, I look hot in body armor.” Molly said, leering at Logan.

“Shut up.” Then after a pause Logan continued, “Have you seen your father?”

“No, I figured he’d either come down here or go to the panic room near the master suite. I took a guess and came here.”

For a second Logan cursed silently, she hadn’t known anything about a second panic room. Then Logan took a quick glance around the room. The hallway that ran the length of the basement, under the family wing, was on the north side of the mansion. The basement was divided into two large rooms. The one they were in and a second room that was sealed off from this room by a heavy steel vault door. Logan saw that very little had changed about this room. It was full of display cases and tables made mostly of heavy metal and ballistic glass. Each display case held artifacts from all over the world. While the firefight had caused some damage to the display cases the artifacts looked okay.

“Do you think your dad is already in the vault?”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

With that Molly moved over to a key pad and typed in a pin and then just as he was about to put his finger on the plate next to the key pad he stopped.

“Uhm, I think you’ll have to do this, use your right index finger.”

Logan suddenly realized that while Molly had used his PIN it was her finger that would be needed to open the door. Logan pressed her finger to the pad and the light next to it went from red to green and there was a click. Logan could hear a hiss of air and the sound of a hydraulic motor as the vault door slowly swung open.

The room beyond was smaller than the room they were in and had far fewer items. When the door opened a light automatically came on and Logan saw that there was no one inside. There were a pair of shelves that ran along the walls to the left and right, while in front of the far wall was a desk and a pair of chairs. The center of the room was dominated by an arch made of some kind of black stone sitting on a raised platform. Half a dozen symbols had been carved into the arch and they vaguely reminded Logan of the Kanji she’d seen in Japan.

Just then the sound of boots running down the hallway caused Logan and Molly to turn around. They both backed into the vault using the protection of the doorway for cover as a terrorist came through. Logan caught him with a well-placed shot to the chest. However, right behind him a blonde guy, wearing the uniform of a Firm security guard, dove through the door and started to shoot. Logan and Molly ducked back, but Logan could hear additional terrorists entering the room.

“Shut the door,” Logan shouted at Molly. Logan tried shooting the blonde traitor, but the volume of fire forced Logan to take cover. Molly hit a button Logan couldn’t see although she heard the sound of the hydraulic motors closing the door. Logan heard one of the terrorists shout something in Arabic and then the sound of heavy bolts locking into place was accompanied by the feeling of Logan’s ears popping as the chamber pressurized.

Author Note:

1: This story is based on the Altered Fates Universe concept established by Jennifer Adams, however I’ve taken some artistic liberties so this story doesn’t strictly adhere to the rules Jennifer established.

2: This is also a fanfic of the J.R.R. Tolkien world of Middle Earth in an untold tale of the First Age. Please note; I didn’t stay completely true to the Middle Earth that Tolkien set up. This is my take on what Middle Earth in the First Age might have been like.

Logan looked up from the monitor on the desk and glanced at Molly. “This is bad.”

Molly looked a little confused, “I don’t understand. We’re in the vault and there are several inches of steel between us and them? What are you worried about?”

“They’ve cut the land lines from the estate. I don’t have an internet connection.” Then Logan looked back down and began clicking through a series of commands. In a few seconds she’d logged onto the estate internal security network and then she brought up the cameras in the basement and they could see the terrorists. Logan and Molly watched as they opened a couple of backpacks and started pulling out items that looked like bricks wrapped in plastic.

“It’s bad because the terrorists are in control of the estate and all of the Firm’s guards are dead. Except for that asshole, cum-sucking, son-of-a-diseased whore, poster-child for abortion, fucking shark bait, grab-asstic piece of turtle shit, traitor Owen Henderson.” Logan ranted quietly while pointing to the blonde guy assembling something that Molly couldn’t really see. “In addition to being former SOF, Owen is a demolitions expert. With all that C-4 I’d say he’s assembling a breeching charge.”

“You don’t think he could blow the vault door, do you?”

“No, but he won’t even try. He’ll knock a hole in the wall next to the door.”

“And then they’ll be able to capture us, won’t they?”

“No, because we’ll be dead.” At Molly’s confused look Logan continued, “When they blow down the wall they’ll create an overpressure in this room that will probably kill us.”

At this Molly was silent and Logan looked around the room taking in all of the artifacts before looking back at Molly.

“What is it they’re after? Maybe we can work some kind of a deal?”

“I don’t know, not for certain anyway, what they’re after, although I can guess.” Logan looked quizzically at Molly and motioned for him to continue. “I told you Daddy’s been collecting artifacts and while that’s true, it’s not the whole story. You see he’s been collecting magic artifacts, like the medallion we used last night.”

With that Molly turned and pointed to the stone arch in the middle of the room. “Shortly after the invasion of Iraq, Daddy was able to get several priceless pieces from the sack of the Babylonian museum. That was one of the pieces.”

“And these guys want it?”

“Yes, I don’t know everything, but I guess there was a cult that was responsible for guarding it. During the chaos in Bagdad after the invasion thieves were able to steal it. Daddy got it from the thieves at an illegal auction. It took the cult several years but they eventually discovered that we had it. They tried to buy it about two years ago. Daddy refused. You see he knew it had magical properties and was working on figuring them out. Daddy can’t resist a mystery and he started to obsess about the arch.”

“So these terrorists aren’t terrorists at all?! They’re members of a cult?”

“Yes, if Daddy had known that, back when he was first approached, he probably would have sold the arch. But he didn’t know who they were or how ruthless they are. Then after Mom’s death there was no way he was going to give it to them. ”

Logan looked at the arch for a minute before she shook her head. “I doubt at this point they’ll let either of us live. Even if we opened the door and offered to give them the damn thing, they’ll still kill us.”

“There’s a way out.” Molly said, looking at the arch.

“What are you talking about? This room is sealed the only way in or out is through that door.”

“I told you Daddy was into magic and the occult. A month ago he finally figured out how the arch works. He just needed the key, which he only acquired last week. You see the arch is a portal to other worlds.”

“Other worlds? Like Star-Gate? Shit, you’re kidding, right?!”

Molly shook his head, “No I’ve been through it with Daddy, once. I think I can remember how to activate it. Come on.”

With that Molly moved around to the other side of the desk to where a large metal wall-locker was rested against the wall. Logan hadn’t really noticed it before. Molly opened the doors and pulled out a pair of professional grade hiking backpacks on ridged metal frames.

“When we went through last time we used these. We talked about exploring further and had put together some gear for a longer stay. Then the cultists tried to kidnap me and Daddy changed his mind. We were going to explore the arch once things were a little safer.”

Molly handed Logan the smaller of the two backpacks and without a word Logan tried to put it on. However, she quickly realized that it needed to be adjusted to go on over the combat vest she was wearing. By the time Logan had adjusted the straps and put it on she glanced into the monitor and saw that Owen had assembled his device and was getting ready to mount it on the wall to the left of the vault door.

“Shit! We need to hurry.”

Molly was now standing in front of the arch chanting. Moving to stand next to him Logan saw that Molly had a stone knife that looked like it was made of obsidian in his right hand. He paused in his chanting and used the knife to cut his left hand and then looked at Logan.

“Give me your left hand.”

Without a word Logan extended it and Molly made a shallow cut on her palm. When Logan looked up at the arch she saw that the symbols were glowing with a faint red light. Molly placed her bleeding palm over the symbol to the far left. For a second nothing happened then the air within the arch started to become hazy like heat waves on a summer day. The effect intensified with the air blurring to the point that Logan couldn’t see anything through the arch.

“Logan,” Molly said pulling Logan’s attention back to him. “You need to press your hand on the same symbol I did or when you step through you’ll just be on the other side of the room.”

With that Molly moved to one side and Logan pressed her bleeding hand against the symbol. As soon as she did Logan felt a weird vibration under her palm, and then a steady buzzing filled her body.

“What now?”

“We step through.”

With that Molly picked up his backpack and the AK and walked through the arch. Logan was expecting him to disappear but was still surprised when he didn’t appear on the other side of the arch. Logan glanced at the monitor just in time to see the last terrorist leave the basement.

“Shit!”

Knowing that they were going to blow the wall at any second Logan stepped through the arch. As she did she felt a tingling sensation and a moment of dizziness and then darkness.

The cool breeze hitting Logan in the face was the first thing she felt as she blinked in the bright light. Looking around Logan saw Molly standing a few feet away grinning.

“I told you it would work!”

Logan spun around and lost her balance and tumbled to the ground. ‘I may not be used to my body but this is ridiculous,’ Logan thought. Then when she looked up she saw an arch that looked similar to the one in the Falk’s vault. In fact the air within this arch was still distorted like the one in the vault although it was fading. Logan slowly and carefully climbed to her feet using her AK-47 as a cane.

“What now? Does it go out or something?”

“When Daddy and I used it we didn’t stay very long, but the distortion faded after a couple of minutes. That symbol on the far right is the symbol for our arch in our world. You have to use this knife it’s called a “key” and each person has to pay a blood-price and then they can step through.”

Just as Molly said this an explosion sounded and a burst of air and dust rushed out of the arch. Fortunately both Molly and Logan had moved to one side so none of the debris hit them. Logan took a cautious step forward feeling awkward and off balance. There was something very odd going on but she was determined to see if the arch had been damaged.

Logan moved over to the arch and noticed that the air now looked completely normal. She reached out and ran her hands over the black stone, it was smooth and warm to the touch. Logan now saw that there were seven symbols cut into the stone. Four of the symbols, including the one to the far right looked kind of silvery. When Logan touched the symbol that Molly had said represented the arch they’d used she felt a slight tingle under her fingers. The three remaining symbols had become dull, tarnished, and pitted. When Logan touched one of these there was no tingling sensation.

“What’s wrong with these three?”

Molly had moved over to stand next to Logan, “Daddy, thinks that they’re the symbols representing arches that have been destroyed.”

Satisfied that there wasn’t anything wrong with it Logan turned to face Molly. “Where are we?”

Molly shrugged, “I’m not sure. Not on our world.” Then as if to prove it he jumped. Logan’s jaw dropped. Molly landed at least thirty feet away by a crumbling wall. Molly turned around to look at Logan grinning broadly.

“Gravity here is different. Lower. That’s the main reason Daddy thought this was a different world instead of our world.”

Logan realized her mouth had been hanging open and snapped it shut. ‘Okay, first things first,’ Logan thought. ‘We are now in a survival situation.’

“Did you and your dad do much exploring the last time you were here?”

“Not really, we weren’t prepared for a long stay. We’re standing in the ruins of some kind of watch tower or outpost. That tower was the only building and when it collapsed it took out half the wall. There’s a gate around to the left but it’s closed. We can climb out over there where the wall collapsed.” Molly said, pointing.

“Is there a water source nearby?” Logan asked, turning in a circle to scan the courtyard.

Molly shrugged and then jumped back toward Logan. The amazing jump was ruined when Molly stumbled on landing and fell over. He grinned ruefully and stood up, “We didn’t do too much exploring. We were more concerned about getting home.”

Logan took a couple of cautious steps and realized that the lighter gravity was causing all kinds of problems. ‘Alright just take it slow’ she thought. Logan made her way slowly toward a crumbled part of the wall only to have Molly suddenly land next to her and then stumble sideways into Logan and sending them both to the ground in a pile.

“Watch what you’re doing!”

“Sorry, but I can’t help it. This is fun!”

“Your house was just attacked, we were almost killed, you’re dad’s missing, and you’re having fun?”

Logan was almost shouting as she stood up and the second she finished her outburst she regretted it. Molly’s face sort of crumbled and Logan had the unique experience of watching her former face tear up.

“Oh, God, Daddy. Do you think he’s okay?”

Logan shrugged abruptly conscious of how her boobs were being squished by the combat vest and the straps from the backpack.

“Honestly, I don’t know. I’ve worked his detail a few times and he sometimes leaves early for his downtown office. I think that if they’d captured him they would have brought him down to the vault to open it. So, yeah, he might have escaped.”

“Or he could be . . . dead.”

This time tears started leaking out of the corners of Molly’s eyes leaving twin streaks in the dust on his face. Logan moved to kneel down next to Molly and put her arms awkwardly around him.

“Look we don’t know that, alright? For all we know he’s just fine. Let’s not assume the worst until there’s a reason.”

Molly returned the hug burying his face in Logan’s chest. Stroking his former head to comfort Molly was one of the oddest situations Logan had ever been in. After a few minutes Molly pulled away and wiped his face.

“I’m okay now. What were you doing before I knocked you over?”

Logan stood up again amazed at how easy it was in lower gravity, “I was going to climb up that wall and have a look around. We need to find a water source if we’re going to stay here for long. Wood for a fire would also be nice, since I think we need to stay the night.”

“Why would we stay the night? Shouldn’t we just head back through in a couple of hours?”

“No, whatever’s going on back in our world, we need to wait it out. I’d suggest a full day. Assuming the arch is what the cult was after, they’ll have to move it somewhere safe to store it before sending it back to Iraq. I’d rather come out in a warehouse in the middle of the night than during the day.”

“You think they’ll get away with this?”

“Yeah, at least at first. The raid was really well planned. Owen must have been involved with the planning, I’m sure he’d have thought about how to move the arch. So, yeah, I think there’s a really good chance they’ll get it out of the country.”

With that Logan took a closer look at the wall next to them. It was old and covered with moss. It had also partially collapsed so it was just over five feet high. Putting both feet together Logan jumped straight up. She was shocked to see that not only could she have jumped over the wall but that it would have been easy. Logan landed in the same spot where she’d started and looked over at Molly and couldn’t help grinning.

“Okay, that was fun.”

Then with a smaller jump and just a little forward momentum Logan landed lightly on the wall. For a second she thought she might lose her balance but caught herself in time. The view from here showed a dried out ditch at the base of the wall. ‘Probably a moat when this place had been inhabited,’ Logan thought. Another fifteen to twenty yards back was a tree line with what appeared to be pretty thick undergrowth. Abruptly Molly landed next to Logan and almost tumbled forward off the wall, but Logan caught his arm.

“Easy there big guy we need to take it slow until we adjust to the gravity!”

Molly took a look over the side and gulped. The ground at the base of the wall dropped away sharply until it bottomed out in the dry ditch.

“Gravity might be lower here but if you break your neck you’ll still be dead.”

“Yeah, I’ll be more careful. So what’s next?”

Logan scanned the area and spotted what might have once been a road that angled toward the place that Logan assumed was the gate. Pointing toward it Logan said, “I think we should start over there and work our way around the ruin while we’ve got some light. The priority is to find water, after that some dead wood would be good for a fire.”

“Sounds like a plan!”

Then, without waiting for Logan, Molly jumped from the wall. Logan watched in awe as he sailed over the ditch. He landed in the grass on the far side of the ditch and then looked back at Logan with a grin.

“Show off!” Logan shouted and then jumped. The feeling of sailing through the air was marvelous and even when she started down it didn’t feel like she was falling as fast as she normally would have. Logan landed and absorbed the shock by flexing her knees. She’d been expecting a much harder landing considering she was wearing a combat vest and a backpack.

“This is amazing!”

“I know! I just can’t help myself.” Molly replied, with a broad grin.

They worked their way over to the road and Logan saw that it was now little more than an overgrown dirt track. At Logan’s suggestion they began circling the ruin by putting their backs to the road and keeping the ruin in sight on the right. After about fifteen minutes Molly spotted a stream running along one side of the hill. Logan sat her backpack down on the bank and looked over at Molly.

“What did you guys pack into these things?”

Molly shrugged, “Daddy did most of the prep stuff. I gave him a couple of sets of clothes, some extra boots, a few feminine items, and that was about it.”

The bank sloped gently down to the swiftly moving water and was reasonably flat, giving Logan a perfect place for exploring her backpack. Logan looked over at Molly. “We’d better do an inventory.”

They spent the next few minutes going through their gear. In addition to the weapons they’d taken they each had three sets of clothes, extra hiking boots, individual tents, sleeping bags, a couple of Army MREs, empty Camelbacks and iodine tablets. Molly’s backpack also had some feminine hygiene items including pain medicine and toilet paper. Logan had to suppress a shudder at the thought of using some of that stuff.

“I don’t think these boots are going to fit.” Molly said, holding up a pair of boots in Richard’s size.

Logan looked over and couldn’t help laughing. The boots were obviously a couple of sizes too small. “Your dad might be tall but it looks like he has small feet.”

Molly snorted in disgust. “Well, I think I can make due with running shoes for a day. I’m just glad the pants and shirt will fit.” Then he picked up the empty Camelback, “Do you think the water’s safe to drink?”

Logan turned around and looked at the clear swift moving water. “Probably, but drop one of these tablets into the Camelback after you fill it.” At Molly’s confused look Logan continued, “They’ll make the water taste like crap but they’ll kill any bugs.”

Molly picked up his and Logan’s Camelback and headed down to the stream. Logan repacked her backpack and then started to go through a weapons check. By the time Molly made it back Logan had consolidated the ammo and reloaded her AK. Molly handed Logan her Camelback and looked at the AK she’d slung over her shoulder.

“I’m down to three and a half mags for my AK and four mags for my 9mm and my knife. How are you for ammo?”

Molly grunted, “I’ve got two full mags for my nine plus the one in the gun. I’ve only got two mags for the AK plus what’s in the one that’s in it.”

“Well, if we’re lucky we won’t be doing any more shooting now.” Then after a pause, “When did you learn how to shoot? Your record with the Firm didn’t indicate that you knew anything about firearms.”

“I . . . ah, I guess you could say I learned by magic.” At Logan’s confused look Molly grinned, “When I changed into you I held the medallion to your jacket for twenty minutes. I’ve got several of your memories and skills. When the terrorists attacked, I sort of shut off the Molly part of my mind and turned the Logan part loose.”

Logan nodded, thinking about how normal and natural her body felt if she wasn’t thinking about it. She only felt awkward when she was thinking about it. Then she wondered if the magic would cause her to become more and more comfortable as Molly. Would she want to change back when the time came? Then Logan remembered that when the terrorists attacked she’d gone into full professional operator mode. In fact she was still functioning more as an operator than as a college girl. Logan let out a sigh and decided to think about it later and to just focus on surviving. While Logan had been thinking Molly started repacking his backpack.

“You know this is really weird. I mean I’ve never shot a gun in my life. Yet when I needed to know how, it was like I was watching my hands as they knew what to do.” Then Molly shuddered, “And the guy guarding the door to the house.” Molly looked over at Logan, his eyes filled with worry, “I killed him with my bare hands. At the time I didn’t even think about it, what did the medallion do to me?”

“It gave you the skills you needed to survive. I doubt that Owen knew that I was spending the night at the estate. But even if he did, he had enough terrorists with him on the raid to account for one extra operator. Instead, thanks to the medallion, he had two. I think the medallion saved our lives.”

Molly nodded and looked down at his hands, “Logan, I’ve never hurt anyone in my life. I killed that guy with my bare hands, and I shot four others.”

Logan moved over and put a hand on Molly’s shoulder noticing that he was shaking. “Molly, what you’re going through is normal. Most guys after their first firefight get the shakes. Just remember you didn’t have any choice. You didn’t ask them to attack the estate, and they killed several of my friends before we even got back onto the grounds. If you hadn’t acted the way that you did, you’d probably be dead right now.”

Molly nodded, “Yeah, I know. I can still feel that guy’s head in my hands. Breaking his neck was . . . easy.”

“I know.”

They sat there on the bank looking at the quick moving clear water as it ran by. In a way it was surreal. The setting was so quiet, so peaceful, and only a few minutes earlier they’d been fighting for their lives. The starkness of the dichotomy left both Molly and Logan feeling shaken.

“So what do you think we should do next?”

“Collect some fire wood and find a decent spot in the ruins to spend the night.”

“That’s just what I was thinking,” Molly responded, with a laugh.

Logan poked the fire sending up a small burst of sparks. It had gotten dark quickly so she was glad to have the fire. After finding water they’d returned to the ruin. Jumping over the wall had been amazingly easy. Logan picked a spot to set up camp in the far corner of the courtyard and had sent Molly to collect fire wood. The spot was protected on two sides but didn’t obstruct their view. She’d considered going into the ruined tower but then decided not to because it looked unstable. While Molly was gone Logan changed out of the running clothes she’d been wearing into the more durable hiking clothes from the backpack.

The weather looked clear so Logan ignored the tents and pulled out both sleeping bags setting them on the ground. She had no intention of climbing in unless it got really cold. Sleeping on the bag would provide some insulation from the ground and allow her or Molly to be up and fighting in no time if that was required. Because the courtyard was paved with irregular looking stones, Logan didn’t try to dig a fire pit. Instead, she found several loose bricks and made a circle with them. The dead wood Molly returned with soon formed a teepee. Some dried grass and small twigs formed the inner teepee. Next came small pieces of wood with larger sticks layered above. Molly dug a lighter out of his backpack and soon the fire was roaring.

Once that was done they’d spent the remainder of the afternoon exploring the ruins and getting a good idea what the surrounding land looked like. As far as Logan could tell the trees and grass were identical to what she’d seen back home. One thing that was very different was the time of day. It had been early morning when the raid had happened, yet when they’d stepped out of the arch they’d walked into a late afternoon sun. Once the sun was setting Logan and Molly returned to their camp site and dug out a set of MREs for dinner.

“What do you think happened after we left?” Molly asked looking at Logan from across the fire as Logan took a bite of the Chili-Mac.

“It’s hard to say. I don’t know if an emergency call made it out or not. Owen took out the CP first, but each agent had an emergency call switch. So there’s a good chance somebody got a signal out.”

Molly stared into the fire. “The second panic room has a direct line to the Firm. Daddy might have gotten a call out.” Then he sighed, “But it really doesn’t matter for our situation. They can’t come through the gate after us without a key. Also, there were a dozen symbols on the arch they wouldn’t know which one we picked.”

“Molly if you’re worried about them coming for us you can relax. I don’t think that’s high on their priority list. Not if they were really after the arch all along. If they know what it does, then all they have to do is put a watch on it. We have to come back through eventually.”

For a while neither of them spoke. “Are you going to eat?”

“How can you think of food?” Molly asked.

“A guy’s gotta eat.”

“Really?” Molly snorted and tossed his MRE back into his backpack unopened. “You don’t look much like a guy.”

At this Logan glanced down at her chest. The large bumps pushing her flannel shirt out were a clear indication that Logan wasn’t a ‘guy’. Molly watched as Logan continued to eat, the movements were well practiced and economical. This wasn’t Logan’s first MRE.

“This is no big deal to you is it? Fighting, killing, doing things most people can’t even relate too.”

Logan stopped eating and looked over at Molly. “If you think this is no big deal,” at this she gestured down at herself, “then you’re wrong. Until yesterday I’d have said that magic doesn’t exist. Now I’ve been transformed into the hottest girl I ever met and tossed into an alternate universe. No, I’d say this is a very big deal. I’m just trying to stay focused and stay professional. Once we’re home the first thing I want to do is get that damn medallion and change back.”

“So you think I’m hot?”

For a moment Logan just stared at Molly, “All of that and you took away, ‘Logan thinks I’m hot?’”

At this Molly laughed, “Well, I think you’re hot too.”

Logan shook her head in disgust. Then a look of concern crossed Logan’s face. “Where were you and your dad keeping the medallion?”

Molly noticed the change and couldn’t resist, “In the vault, of course, why?”

“Shit! It better still be there when we get back.”

Molly leaned back using his backpack for a backrest and put both hands behind his head. “Oh, I’m sure it’s fine. Besides, I’m starting to get used to this body. Maybe we should just stay this way.”

Logan glared over at Molly, “Are you fucking crazy. That wasn’t the deal.”

Molly started laughing and after a second Logan realized she’d been had and chuckled, “Okay, you got me.”

“Of course I want to change back. Do you think I want to be some big smelly guy for the rest of my life? Oh, and Daddy kept the medallion in the safe in his bedroom. So even if everything in the vault is destroyed the medallion should be fine.”

Logan let out a sigh of relief and scraped the rest of the Chili-Mac out before glancing over at Molly who was staring quietly into the fire. ‘This is the weirdest thing,’ Logan thought. ‘I’ve sat around a fire hundreds of times but this is the first time I’ve been able to look at myself.’

“You really should eat something.” Logan said, standing up.

“Where are you going?”

“Relax. I’m going to find a spot to take a leak.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? Maybe I should come with you.”

“Oh, for God’s sake relax. I can take care of myself.” Logan patted the pistol strapped to her leg, “besides I’ve got this, and I won’t go far.”

“Be sure to take the TP with you.” At Logan’s questioning look, Molly laughed, “You’ll need to wipe when you’re done.”

Molly watched his former body walk toward the ruined tower and couldn’t help appreciating the view. Then his stomach rumbled and Molly figured he’d take Logan’s advice. Digging through the MREs Molly settled on a beef stew.

“I’ve got to say, roughing it as a woman sucks!”

Molly looked up to find that Logan had returned and couldn’t help grinning. “Oh, what do you mean?”

Logan grimaced, and then shook her head, “I never thought much about having to squat to piss before. What a pain!”

At this Molly started laughing, “I’d say welcome to the club, but I can pee standing up!”

Logan settled onto her sleeping bag and stared into the fire for a few minutes. Then she looked over at Molly, “We should take turns sleeping. Since you’re still eating I’ll sleep first. Wake me up in four hours.”

The slight touch on Logan’s shoulder brought her awake. For a second she stared up into Molly’s familiar face before the events from yesterday returned. Molly put a finger to his lips. Then he used two fingers to touch his eyes and pointed toward the ruined tower.

The fire had burned down to a few embers, but the moon was out and quite bright. Logan saw movement in the shadows by the tower and reached out to lightly squeeze Molly’s arm. Then she grabbed her AK and slowly rolled over into a prone firing position. All of Logan’s movements were slow and smooth. Abrupt motion tended to draw the eye, although with the fire there was no way that they hadn’t been noticed. Whatever it was in those shadows it was stalking them.

Molly stretched out on the ground a few feet from Logan AK ready. The waiting seemed to take forever then the shadows moved again and slowly the creature came into view. Logan felt shock run through her body. The creature had eight legs, a large head with multiple sets of eyes, and a pair of gigantic fangs.

“Shit! That’s a damn spider!” Logan hissed. As soon as Logan spoke the spider seemed to orient on her.

“It can’t be a spider, it’s too big!”

With a burst of speed the spider jumped. Both Molly and Logan opened fire. Logan couldn’t tell if she hit the thing and was forced to roll to the side when it landed right where she’d been stretched out. As she scrambled away Logan could hear Molly firing and knew that his bullets were striking home. The thing was as big as a large dog and from this range it was almost impossible to miss.

The spider turned toward Molly making a strange hissing sound and Logan switched to full auto and emptied a mag into the thing. The monsters death scream was odd sounding as it tried to turn toward Logan and then it just collapsed in a fit of convulsions.

“What the fuck!” Molly said walking around the spider.

Logan felt adrenaline hit her system and started shaking. Then from within the tower there was a strange sounding cry. The cry sounded far away, but was unmistakably similar to the scream from the now dead giant spider.

“Do you think there are more of those things?” Molly asked.

“I don’t think we should stick around and find out. Come on.”

With that Logan and Molly went to work and in a few seconds they’d packed up their gear and Logan kicked out the fire. By the time she was done Molly was ready to go. With a single leap they both made it to the top of the wall. Behind them and then heard another cry from the tower followed this time by several more each closer than the last.

“How many of them are there?”

“I don’t want to find out,” Logan said and then jumped to the ground. Logan moved forward in a series of jumps that ate up distance. She stayed close to the tree line until they found the remains of the road and then turned down it moving away from the tower as quickly as possible.

“Do you think they’ll follow us?” Molly asked.

“Probably, but spiders aren’t known for running prey to ground. They’re more likely to set a trap or take prey from an ambush.”

After a few minutes they had to slow down as the trees closed in and following the road became more difficult. Soon the trees had closed in to the point where they blocked out the light of the moon. This made long distance jumps impractical and slowed them down.

“What I wouldn’t give for a pair of NVGs!” Logan said.

“We’d better take it slow before we blunder into something.”

They could still faintly hear screams coming from the ruin and then Logan’s blood ran cold when she heard another scream in front of them. “Oh, shit. We’re probably in the middle of their range.”

“What now?”

“Let’s move off the road and find a place to settle in. Based on what we saw earlier I’m guessing these spiders are nocturnal. If we can avoid them until dawn we might be able to sneak back into the ruin and get home.”

With that they moved off the road. The trees were thick and the underbrush made it hard to move quickly. After a few seconds Logan realized it was now pitch black.

“Molly,” she hissed.

“Yeah,” Molly replied behind Logan and slightly to her left.

“Stay where you are. I’m going to come over to you.” Logan moved toward where she’d heard Molly, “Give me a slow count.”

“One . . . two . . . three . . . four,” Molly said quietly. It took almost a minute for Logan’s out stretched hand to encounter Molly’s broad chest.

“What now?” Molly whispered.

“We settle down here and wait. When the sun comes up we go back to the road and follow it to the ruins.”

“What if the spiders find us?”

“Then we shoot the bastards.”

They moved carefully around through the underbrush until they found the base of a tree and settled in under it. As they did Logan realized that she hadn’t heard any hunting cries from the spiders in a while. She didn’t know if this was a good thing or a bad thing.

Author Note:

1: This story is based on the Altered Fates Universe concept established by Jennifer Adams, however I’ve taken some artistic liberties so this story doesn’t strictly adhere to the rules Jennifer established.

2: This is also a fanfic of the J.R.R. Tolkien world of Middle Earth in an untold tale of the First Age. Please note; I didn’t stay completely true to the Middle Earth that Tolkien set up. This is my take on what Middle Earth in the First Age might have been like.

Logan’s first clue that the sun was coming up was the fact that she could now see the faint outline of the branches of the tree they were under. She glanced over at Molly and was pleased to see that he was still awake. It had been an exhausting day and Molly hadn’t gotten any sleep but he was still awake.

“We can probably start moving soon.” Logan whispered.

Molly slowly reached out and touched Logan’s arm and then pointed. Through the branches they could just make out the form of another spider. This one was a little smaller than the one they’d killed in the ruin. It was about a dozen feet away moving slowly stopping every now and then to rear back slightly testing the air. Logan couldn’t tell if it was tracking them by scent or not, but one thing was sure if it got much closer they’d have to do something.

Then Logan saw movement out of the corner of her eye. Slowly she turned her head and spotted a second spider. This one was about the size of a large dog and was easily moving through the brush. Logan brought her AK on line and waited.

“Now,” Molly hissed and they opened fire on their separate targets at the same time. Logan squeezed the trigger three times in rapid succession and watched as the rounds tore into the head of the spider. It collapsed to the ground convulsing.

“Move!”

Logan surged to her feet and was out from under the tree in a heartbeat. Molly was just behind her.

“Which way,” Molly asked? Then they heard a chorus of hissing screams.

“Away from that,” Logan said moving as quickly as she could through the thick brush!

Logan moved as swiftly and quietly as she could while trying to keep up with Molly. The weight of the vest and backpack and the need to constantly scan her back trail was taking its toll, even in the lesser gravity, as she felt sweat running down her back. The first few minutes after the giant spiders found them had been a deliberate dash and they’d had to turn around several times to fire on the perusing monsters.

“This way,” Logan had shouted, dashing into a thicker area of forest in an attempt to lose them. As they raced through the thickening trees the click-clacking sound of the spiders faded. After ten minutes they’d slowed down to the quick, cautious pace that Logan knew would eat up the miles. The light gradually got darker as the trees became thicker and thicker. Now they had to work to keep each other in sight while moving through the trees. Logan glanced down at her watch. The ladies Timex Ironman had primary and secondary clocks so last night at sunset Logan had set the secondary mode to 6 pm. Assuming a twenty four hour day and sunset and sunrise were twelve hours apart, which Logan knew wasn’t a given, then they were getting close to noon.

Just then Molly held up his hand, fist closed. Logan stopped and looked around, she didn’t see any threats. Then Logan shook her head in amazement, Molly was using skills she’d never had, before touching the medallion, as if she’d been through the same training Logan had. ‘Focus,’ Logan thought chiding herself, then through the trees she thought she could see what might be a clearing. She cautiously moved up next to Molly. The clearing wasn’t much, maybe fifty yards across, in the center a bit of rocky ground lifted up from the soft forest floor. At the crown of the small knoll was what looked like a single large boulder. Sunlight fell in streaming golden rays onto the boulder and even from this distance Logan could see what appeared to a glyph carved into it.

“What do you think?” Molly asked.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think it’s dangerous.”

The pair moved cautiously into the clearing and Logan could feel the hair on the back of her neck stand up. There was something very odd about that stone and this whole glade. It had a surreal feeling and the stone appeared to be some kind of obelisk or standing stone that had been forgotten by time and overrun by the forest.

“I think this thing is made out of basalt.” Molly said, looking closely at it before glancing down at Logan, “It’s some kind of obelisk.”

“Someone went to a lot of trouble to polish it.”

“Yeah, and to carve that glyph into it. I wonder why it’s here?”

Logan shook her head, “I’ve got no idea, but I’m more concerned about getting back to the arch.”

Alarmed, Molly turned to face Logan, “Do you know how to get back?”

“I think so. I’ve been doing a pace count. By my estimate we’re about fifteen miles from the ruins and the spider nest.”

“But which way? This forest is so thick it would be easy to get turned around.”

Logan snorted, “Molly, this isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve been pace counting and marking our back trail.” With that Logan touched the knife attached to her combat vest, and then nodded at one of the trees they’d passed as they entered the clearing. It was difficult to see from here but Molly thought if he got closer he’d find an X cut into the tree bark.

Feeling better Molly returned to looking at the obelisk. Logan just shook her head and found a place to sit down and shrugged out of her backpack. Then an urge she’d been resisting for a couple of hours became impossible to ignore.

“Um, I’m going to take a piss.”

At this Molly looked over from where he’d been examining the obelisk and flashed Logan a grin. “Enjoy that.”

Logan glowered at him and moved to one side turning around and dropping her combat-vest and unbuckling her pants. “What do you mean ‘enjoy’ that?”

“Well, I always hated having to bare my ass to take a leak when daddy and I were camping. I always had this weird feeling that something might grab my exposed parts.” Then as if to demonstrate how easy things now were Molly stepped to one side and without removing any clothes unzipped his fly and pulled out his schlong.

Logan looked away and muttered, “Asshole,” under her breath and focused on doing her business. Since she’d forgotten to pull out the TP from her backpack Logan used a bandana from her cargo pocket to dry her bottom, mentally noting that she’d need to clean it at her first opportunity. Once done Logan pulled up her pants, shrugged back into her combat-vest, and returned to where she’d left her backpack. Logan had learned the hard way, to never be separated for too long, from her gear, while in the field. Then she dug into her backpack, a drink of water and an MRE sounded just right.

“There’s only this one sigil on the entire stone. I wonder what it means.” Molly had returned to his examination of the obelisk.

Logan saw that she only had two MREs left, stew and lasagna. After a moment’s thought she picked the lasagna. It had more carbs and Logan figured she needed all the energy she could get. Particularly since they had to somehow sneak back into the ruins and use the gate to get home.

“Ouch!”

At Molly’s startled exclamation Logan looked up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just when I touched the symbol on the obelisk I felt a shock go through me and now your . . . err . . . I mean my tattoos are sort of tingling.”

Logan stood up and moved over to Molly and he extended his left arm. “Wow, check this out!”

Logan stared in shock. The tattoo was Logan’s first tat and was an image of a trident done in black ink his forearm. Now as Logan looked at it the tattoo changed, it took on a golden color and looked almost metallic. Without asking for permission Logan reached out and lightly touched the tattoo. It felt strangely warm and there was a buzzing under her fingertips. Logan quickly pulled her hand back.

“What the hell?”

“God, the one on my back is driving me crazy.”

With that Molly dropped his backpack, pulled off his combat vest and shirt. The play of Molly’s muscular chest and abs, in the dappled forest light, was somewhat distracting to Logan, but she forced herself to focus and moved to look at Molly’s back. The griffin tattoo she’d had tattooed onto her back before her second deployment was a colorful back piece that took up most of Molly’s back. Logan couldn’t help being amazed at the power and thoroughness of the medallion’s magic. If anything the tattoo now looked more colorful, almost as if it were a photo of an actual Griffin. Then, for a second, Logan thought the griffin moved its colors were so bright and realistic that once again she felt the urge to touch it. This time Logan stepped back.

“Let me see the last one.”

Molly turned so Logan could see his right arm just below the shoulder. The image of a Spartan warrior with glowing armor stared back looking like he could step off of Molly’s arm. The words “Strength,” and “Honor,” above and below the image were now written in what looked like metallic silver ink.

Molly reached up and scratched the skin where the warrior stood. “These things are driving me crazy.”

“Does it hurt?”

As she asked the question Logan couldn’t resist touching the word ‘Honor.’ That same buzzing she’d felt before returned and almost as if in a daze she heard Molly say, “No, it’s just annoying.”

Almost involuntarily Logan looked over at the obelisk. The sigil stood out like a beacon and without thinking about it she moved toward it. The symbol seemed to glow with a silver light in Logan’s mind and she could feel it, calling to her.

“Logan, what are you doing?” Molly’s voice carried more amusement than alarm. “I wouldn’t touch that thing.”

Then Logan watched as her small fingers reached out brushing the sigil. As soon as she made contact she felt a spark and then it was like she was attached and couldn’t let go. Something flowed into her, like she was an empty vessel and the obelisk was full of water. The water rushed into her, filling her, and then she felt the tattoo at the small of her back stir. Logan sensed it sort of move, almost as if it were stretching, and then it seemed to respond to the rushing water absorbing it as quickly as the obelisk poured it into her.

Suddenly a strong pair of hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her away causing her to loose contact with the sigil. All at once the world came rushing back to Logan. On the one hand she was relieved to be away from the stone, it was obviously more than it appeared. Yet there was a part of her that missed the connection, missed the rush of . . . something.

“Are you okay?”

Logan turned to look at Molly, “Yeah, why?”

“Why? Because you’ve been standing there touching that symbol for fifteen minutes! I’ve been talking to you and you acted like you couldn’t hear me. I finally figured I had to pull you away.”

“Wow, really, fifteen minutes? It felt like I’d only touched it for a few seconds.”

Then Logan reached behind her to rub the itch at the small of her back. At this Molly chuckled, “Is it itching now?”

“Yeah, shit, why does my back feel like I’ve been rolling in poison ivy?”

“Something about that obelisk reacted to our tattoos. Mine have stopped itching.”

“Damn, so this will go away?”

“If yours does the same thing mine did. Hey, let me see it.”

Logan unbuckled her vest and dropped it to the ground before pulling her shirt up so Molly could see her lower back.

“Oh. My. God! Logan, my tattoo, of the witch-demon, she looks amazingly real, and the flaming pentagram, I could swear those are actual flames.”

Logan dropped her shirt down and tucked it in and turned to face Molly. “Look, we’ve got to get back to the ruin, but with the way we stirred up the spiders we should probably wait until tomorrow, and I think we should do it during the day. Something tells me that those things are primarily nocturnal.”

Molly nodded, “That’s sounds like a plan. We should probably find some water. I’m starting to get low.”

“Any guesses where?” Logan asked scanning the clearing.

“Actually yes,” When Logan glanced at him Molly shrugged, “I’ve just got this feeling that water is that way.” he said pointing with his left hand and Logan saw a slight flash of sunlight off the trident tattoo.

Without waiting to see if Logan would agree Molly collected his gear and set off. Logan hurriedly grabbed her equipment and followed. “I suppose one direction is as good as another.”

The land sloped down gently and then they were in the underbrush. After about thirty minutes Logan heard the sound of running water and then the pair stumbled out of the thick underbrush onto a steep bank with a ten foot drop and saw a deep, fast running, stream.

“I guess it’s better to be lucky than good. Any idea how we can get down to it without going for a swim?”

“What is the little girl afraid to get wet?” Molly teased. It took every bit of Logan’s self-control not to push Molly off the bank into the water.

“I’m more comfortable in the water than on dry land. But I’d like to keep my gear dry. Spending a night in wet clothes isn’t much fun, been there, done that.”

Molly sobered up a little and then pointed to the right. “I think we should go that way, follow it downstream. The ground looks like it slopes down, we just need it to get shallow enough for us to scoop up some water.”

The pair spent the next hour walking along the bank when all at once they heard a scream. It was a woman’s voice and then the sounds of war cries and the clash of steel drifted up. They glanced at each other and then as if by mutual assent they picked up the pace. In a few minutes the stream twisted and when they rounded the bend they spotted a shallow sandbar on the opposite bank. Standing on the sandbar they saw what looked like a pair of warriors in silver armor holding off nearly a dozen giant spiders.

These spiders were larger than the ones that had attacked them earlier. They were almost the size of horses and at first Logan thought some of them were being ridden by dark skinned humans. Then she realized that those spiders weren’t being ridden. The human’s upper body merged with the body of the spider creating an impossible looking monster. These human-spider creatures were wielding long wicked looking spears.

The ground was littered with the bodies of spiders, white fletched arrows standing at attention from each body. Now however, the spiders had closed in on the warriors forcing them to switch from bow to sword. Behind the warriors a woman, in light green cloak with a deep hood, stood and Logan thought the trio would be overrun in seconds. Then the woman lifted her hand and pointed at one of the human-spider creatures. From her outstretched hand four bolts of colored energy rocketed into the monster’s chest. The creature shrieked in pain and fell to the ground twisting in agony. The knights took advantage of the momentary shock and blurred forward their war cries thundering along the river. Logan was impressed with the speed and aggression of the attack and watched as spiders and human-spider monsters died with each sweep of their blades.

In seconds the number of attacking monsters had been cut in half and the three humans were untouched. Suddenly, there was a woman’s shout from the near side of the river bank. Then a pair of white looking lines arched over the river. The lines hit a pair of trees to either side of the trio of defenders and in seconds spiders the size of large dogs were racing along it.

“Look,” Molly pointed and Logan spotted a woman. She was a hundred meters downstream from them and for the moment oblivious to their presence. At first Logan assumed the woman was human, with dusky skin and white hair, but then she spotted the pointed ears.

“They’re going to die if we don’t help.”

“Molly, we don’t know what’s going on. We’re strangers here.”

“What’s to know, the spiders attacked us for no reason. Now that woman is controlling them and using them to attack those people. We can’t just stand here and do nothing.”

Then a pair of dark skinned male warriors moved up to flank the woman. They each held a crossbow and quickly fired on the trio on the sandbar. One of the bolts hit the warrior to the left of the woman in the back. His armor held and the bolt bounced away with a “PING” sound. The second bolt was aimed at the woman and just before it struck there was a flare of light as the bolt struck an unseen shield and bounced away.

“Contact!”

Logan reacted instantly bringing her AK up and wheeling in the direction Molly was shooting. A pair of smaller spiders, the size of Rottweiler’s were racing toward them along a tree limb. Molly got both in two quick controlled bursts before Logan could get her rifle on line. When they turned back the dark skinned female was pointing at them and one of the warriors with her broke into a run. As he did he pulled out a wicked looking curved sword.

Logan opened fire. The first rounds hit the warrior in the chest causing sparks to fly from the black armor he wore. Molly fired, and the spider that was accompanying him rolled to the ground, thrashing in death. Logan waited a heartbeat and settled on a spot between the warriors red eyes. This time her shots struck home as she fired a quick double tap. The force of the rounds caused the fighter to flip over onto his back in a spray of blood and bone.

Molly was now moving forward and Logan kept pace sighting in on the woman. Logan opened up with another round and the second warrior stepped in front of the female holding a large shield. The rounds struck the shield sparking and flashing but causing no real harm. Molly kept up a steady stream of fire on the spiders around the pair dropping one after another.

“Reloading,” Logan shouted and hit the magazine release button and then slapped another mag in.

Suddenly, the woman stepped around the warrior and pointed at Molly, three darts of black energy shot toward him and Molly dove for cover. Seeing an opportunity Logan started shooting as quickly as she could at the woman. Rounds sparked and flashed as they hit an invisible shield and then the warrior was between them again only this time he was charging. Molly rolled to his feet and fired aiming at the warrior’s legs. Molly was either a very good shot, or just lucky, because one of the rounds hit the fighters shin shattering it. This caused him to stumble and fall face first onto his belly.

Now the firing lane was clear so Logan resumed shooting at the woman only this time there was nothing stopping her rounds. They tore into the woman’s chest and she spun to the ground. Logan looked over at Molly just in time to see him deliver a killing shot to the warrior.

Molly glanced around but the few spiders remaining were disappearing into the woods. Logan moved to stand next to Molly and pointed. There across the stream the last human-spider hybrid was cut down by one of the two knights in silver. What really caught Logan’s attention was the woman. She was looking right at them and then she smiled and waived for them to come over.

Logan looked over at Molly, “I think they want us to cross over.”

Molly moved over to the river bank and looked down. At this point the drop was only a couple of feet and Molly could see the bottom.

“It doesn’t look too bad. Do you think we can trust them?”

Logan shrugged, “Hard to say. We just helped them and they’re the first natives we’ve run across, that didn’t try to kill us. I think we should give it a try.”

Molly let out a deep sigh and Logan noticed that he was shaking slightly in a post firefight reaction. Logan slung her AK over her back and then grinned at Molly.

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”

With that she sprinted to the edge of the bank and jumped. In the lesser gravity Logan sailed out making it just past the half-way point before dropping into the stream with a splash. She’d judged the jump well and was in a shallow part of the river a bit upstream from the three fighters. Logan began sloshing toward the sandbar only to have Molly land a few feet behind her and to one side. Molly’s greater strength and bulk made his jump longer and he hit with a mighty splash drenching Logan. Instead of glaring at her partner Logan continued out of the water stopping a dozen yards short of the waiting natives. A few seconds later Molly joined her on the sandbar.

By this time the woman and one of the warriors had turned to face them. The other warrior had disappeared into the woods. For a few seconds they stood looking at each other. Logan’s first impression was that these were humans. Tall beautiful humans, but human none the less. Then the woman in the green robes pulled back her hood allowing the sunlight to kiss her long blonde tresses. Encircling her brow was a band of silver with an emblem on the front of a fang or pillar of ice. Then Logan felt a surge of shock run through her as she saw pointed ears sticking up through her hair.

“Holy shit! It’s an Elf!”

“Amin Narmartë Thlim Ith Mindon, e' i' Tuaen' ho Aran Turukáno, En' Ondolindë. Mankoi ier lle sinome?"

The Elven warrior with the woman moved forward and slightly to one side as he placed himself between Molly and the lady in green. He was now holding the bow he’d abandoned earlier and even though there was an arrow on the string it wasn’t pointed at either of them, yet.

“Munta ana equë?” The warrior asked, and then surprise colored his voice as he glanced back at the woman. “Quimellënya, ëa sina á Atan?”

“Look, we don’t understand. But we’re not your enemies.” Molly said, trying to sound friendly.

The woman glanced at Molly and Logan and then over at the warrior. “Náto, Othon, Ni sanwë.”

Then as if making up her mind she reached under her robe and pulled out something. Logan couldn’t see what it was but she cupped it in both hands and then started singing softly. The song was hauntingly beautiful and Logan shivered, somehow she felt like she was standing on a snow bank looking out over an icy plain. The feeling was both lovely and harsh. Then from between the woman’s fingers Logan saw that whatever she was holding had started to glow.

“What do you think she’s doing?”

“No idea,” Molly responded.

Then the song ended and the Elven woman’s green eyes met Logan’s blue eyes. The woman took a step forward and extended her hand. The stone had an oval shape and appeared to be nothing more than a river rock, except for the faint white glow and the small sigil etched onto the smooth surface.

“Sinenngwë indyo ana unuhuinë min eces.”

Slowly Logan moved forward and reached out to take the stone.

“What are you doing?” Molly asked, alarmed.

“I think she wants me to take it.”

“I can see that, but you don’t know what it’ll do.”

“I don’t think she means us any harm, and . . . call it a hunch, but we need to try something.” With that Logan plucked the stone from the Elf’s hand. As soon as her fingers touched the rock a little electric shock ran through her body and she felt the hair on her arms stand up. At the same time she felt the tattoo on her back sort of twist and then it responded to the stone by sending a little wave of energy through Logan. Then it went quiet and Logan blinked.

The Elven woman nodded looking pleased. “I am Narmartë Thlim Ith Mindon, a Ranger in the service of His Highness, King Turukáno. What brings you to Nevrast and the Southern Marches of Ondolindë?”

“I can understand you.”

The awe in Logan’s voice caused the woman to flash a quick smile. “It is known as Lórien’s blessing. The gift of tongues. Now, human, for I’m guessing that is what you are, how is it that you came to be in the Southern Marches of Ondolindë?”

Logan glanced over at Molly who was looking back with surprise. “I couldn’t understand a word you just said,” he confirmed.

“I can still understand you. This is amazing,” Logan replied in English. Then she turned to the ranger switching to Eldarin. “I’m Logan Campbell and this is Molly Falk,” she said indicating Molly, “we are strangers in this land. Oh, and yes, we are both human.”

The male Elf interrupted, “It is obvious that you are a stranger, but of the Second Folk, a mortal-man, amazing?!” With that the warrior walked in a quick circle around both Logan and Molly. “How did you come to be here, and what are those weapons you’re carrying? I’ve never seen anything like them.”

Logan looked at the warrior for a moment and then glanced back at the female. “Narmartë, are all Elven people so rude? I’ve given you my name and the name of my partner, who is this?” With that Logan gestured to the warrior.

The warrior’s face flushed slightly and he glanced at Narmartë for a moment before looking back at Logan. Then he nodded slightly, “I am of the Sindar, Narmartë is of the Noldor, and my name is Othon son of Aeglosson. Now, Logan, how did you come to be here, fighting the Children of Ungoliant?”

When Othon spoke Logan got the brief impression of a giant spider and shuddered. “We were on the estate of Molly’s father when his enemies struck.” Logan said, trying to sum up the events of the day before. “We managed to lock ourselves in a vault but our foes’ were at the door and would soon breach it. There was a gate in that place that connects to a gate in this world. Molly knew how to use the gates and it brought us to the ruins of some kind of tower. And when night fell, the giant spiders . . . Children of Ungoliant?” Logan paused to look at Narmartë’s who nodded, “They attacked us. We’ve spent most of last night and today trying to escape them. Who were the dark-skinned ones directing them?”

At this Narmartë frowned, “They are called Hróvaquendi although more common is Mólquendi. They are a twisting of our people by the Enemy.”

“This explains the stirring of the Ungoliantsén. Do you think . . .?”

Before Othon could continue Narmartë cut him off, “Now, is not the time to discuss that.”

Just then Logan felt a stirring at the back of her neck and glanced over at the edge of the woods. The second Elven knight moved silently into the light and saluted Narmartë. “Captain, I chased the two Ungolis that escaped. I lost them when they crossed the river.”

“Damn! Well it can’t be helped. Cainir, we need to return to camp. There is much I don’t understand about today’s events.” Then Narmartë turned to Logan and Molly, “This is Mistress Logan Campbell and Master Molly Falk, of the Second Folk.”

At this announcement Logan saw Cainir’s eyes widen slightly. “It is a pleasure to meet you. Long have I wanted to meet one of the Second Folk,” Cainir might have been surprised but his voice reflected a genuine warmth.

“Come accept our hospitality for the night. Our camp isn’t too far and I would like to hear more about your world, and what happened when you entered this land.”

Logan nodded and then turned to Molly and relayed the conversation to him. “Do you think we should go?” Molly asked. “I mean, we’re already several miles from the tower. We need to be able to return tomorrow before it gets dark.”

Logan nodded, “True, but I’ve got a feeling that we should figure out what’s going on before we try to return. The more information we have about the Ungoliantsén,” at Molly’s confused look Logan clarified, “the giant spiders, the better our chances of sneaking back to the gate.”

Reluctantly Molly nodded and Logan turned to the Elves. “We’d be pleased to accept your hospitality for the night.”

Narmartë flashed a bright smile and then turned to the forest, “Follow me.”

“Wait, before we go, do you have another of those stones, my companion would greatly benefit from Lórien’s blessing.”

“Alas, the stone I gave you is the only spell-sung piece I have.” Logan felt her face fall and Narmartë quickly continued, “I have more with my supplies back at our camp.”

Molly and Logan fell in behind Narmartë. Othon and Cainir draped a set of green cloaks over their bright armor and disappeared silently into the woods. Logan noticed that Narmartë moved almost completely silently as she ghosted along. It took every ounce of her skill to keep up and remain as quiet. Luckily Molly had inherited Logan’s woodcraft and was moving, if anything, easier than Logan through the forest. They spent the next several hours hiking through the woods before the ground started to rise and then through the trees Logan spotted a set of tall rock spires. They appeared to be a natural formation rising above the forest.

“Falcon’s Rest, we call those.” Narmartë said, having noticed that the formation had caught Logan’s eye. “We will be spending the night atop the taller of the two.”

It was another hour before they reached the base of the spire and Narmartë led them to a set of steps cut into the side of the pillar. The stairs had been hewn into living rock and were so well concealed that Logan knew she’d never have been able to find them without a guide. Even with the steps the climb was challenging. The spire of rock rose at least five hundred feet into the sky, well above the tops of the trees. The stairs were narrow, barely wide enough for Logan to move up without having to turn sideways. Molly had to twist his broad shoulders to make the climb.

By the time they got to the top Logan was slightly out of breath from carrying all of her gear up the steep stairs, yet her weariness was instantly forgotten by the view. The top of the rock formation was a small uneven plateau about fifty yards across. From here Logan realized she could see for miles in all directions. Without really thinking she moved toward the edge gazing out in wonder on the green sea of trees below. As far as she could see to the south, east, and west were trees. Cutting through the forest the thin silver ribbon of a river twisted flowing from north to south.

“Would you look at that?” Molly’s exclamation caused Logan to turn around. When she did she realized she had a clear view of the mountains to the north. It was difficult to judge the distance, but Logan was sure they were huge, rivaling the Hindu-Kush Mountains she’d gotten to know while serving in Afghanistan.

“My Lady,”

At the comment Logan turned around and saw a small rock formation near the center of the plateau. The rocks were of different sizes ranging from waist to shoulder height and were positioned in a haphazard circle, creating an open area about twenty feet in diameter. When Logan walked over she saw Othon standing next to one of the larger stones and Narmartë across the circle from him. Then as if by mutual agreement they each touched the stone they were standing by and whispered something Logan couldn’t hear.

“When did he get up here?” Molly asked nodding to Othon.

“I’ve no idea, I never saw him. Now, shush, something’s happening.”

Logan felt a tingle on her skin and the tattoo on her back flared up, not painfully but suddenly Logan was very aware of it. Judging by Molly’s reaction he had a similar sensation. Then there was a soft grinding noise and a third boulder set an equal distance from the first two started to slowly spin. As it did it rose up becoming taller and taller. By the second rotation Logan thought she saw an opening on one side. By the fourth rotation she was sure of it. When the boulder finally stopped, now twice as tall as its two counterparts, the side facing in showed a narrow door.

“Come,” Narmartë said, grinning at Logan, “our camp lies below.”

Logan followed Narmartë with Molly right behind her. When she set foot on the stair she looked for the device that had powered the boulder and found nothing. Whoever it was who’d built that door had done a good job of hiding how it worked. The darkness started to close in and just before Logan could reach for her flashlight she heard Narmartë say, “Cala.”

Logan saw that Narmartë was now holding what looked like a thin wooden wand and the last inch of it was glowing a bright blue-white. The radiance was more than enough to illuminate the stairs so they continued down. After about twenty feet they came to the bottom and Logan and Molly found themselves in a natural cave that had been modified by the Elves. At one end of the cave was a pool of nearly still water. Every few seconds a drop of water fell from the stalactites hanging above the pool.

“Look at that,” Molly said tapping Logan on the shoulder. When she turned she saw that the Elves had cut several bed sized alcoves into the side of one wall. Then Narmartë said, “Cala, Cala, Cala.”

With each repetition of the word she gestured at a crystal embedded in the roof of the cave. The crystals responded by glowing with the same blue-white light that lit her wand. In seconds the cavern was filled with light. At this Logan caught her breath again, in amazement. Under the blue-white light Logan could see that the cave held a variety of rocks, of every color.

“This place is beautiful.” Logan said to Narmartë. At this the Elven ranger smiled.

“The spire is known as Falcon’s Rest, this camp is known as Sweetwater Deep. The area gets frequent rainfalls. The stones above us funnel most of the rain water down to the pool. The water is cool and very refreshing.”

With that Narmartë moved to the edge of the pool and scooped out a handful. Unable to resist Logan followed Narmartë to the pool. The water did feel cool and one sip was all Logan needed to know that this was the purest water she’d ever tasted.

“Captain Narmartë, Cainir, will keep the first watch.” Othon said, breaking the silence.

“Thank you.” Narmartë said, and looked over at Logan and Molly. “Please pick out a bed and relax.” At this she gestured to the alcoves. “We’ll have food prepared soon. I have a few things I must attend to now.” With that Narmartë moved to one side of the cave to an arched doorway that Logan hadn’t seen before and disappeared.

Author Note:

1: This story is based on the Altered Fates Universe concept established by Jennifer Adams, however I’ve taken some artistic liberties so this story doesn’t strictly adhere to the rules Jennifer established.

2: This is also a fanfic of the J.R.R. Tolkien world of Middle Earth in an untold tale of the First Age. Please note; I didn’t stay completely true to the Middle Earth that Tolkien set up. This is my take on what Middle Earth in the First Age might have been like.

By the time Logan and Molly had picked out sleeping alcoves to stash their gear Othon had started working on dinner. Logan watched as he passed his hand over a few stones noting the sigils carved into them, and chanted softly. She could feel something emanate from Othon and the sigils respond. Then the stones started to glow and Othon set a pot on a tripod over the glowing stones.

“Magic,” Molly asked, causing Logan to jump. He’d come to stand next her while she’d been focused on Othon and she hadn’t sensed him. Logan mentally chided herself on this lapse.

“Yeah, makes sense, they wouldn’t want to start a fire down here, the only ventilation is the stairs and we have to use those to get in and out.”

“I think I’m going to go up top and see what I can see.” With that Molly grabbed his AK, checked to make sure it was loaded with a fresh mag, double checked his side arm to make sure it was ready and then went up the spiral stair. Logan had considered following him but then discarded the idea. Instead she sat down on her backpack and spread out all of her gear. For the next few minutes she did a quick inventory, checked and cleaned her weapons, and counted her remaining ammo. She’d expended about a third of it during the firefight last night and then the altercation by the river. At last satisfied that her gear was in as good a shape as possible Logan took off her boots. Her feet had dried out during the hike after the river crossing. But the chance to let them air out and then put on fresh socks was important. One of the things she’d learned over the years in the field was to take care of her feet.

By the time Logan was lacing her boots back up Narmartë had returned from the side room. She paused to look around and then came over to Logan and as she approached Logan stood up.

“I’ve contacted the Knight-Commander of the Ondolindë Ranger Crops, Sir Helcëtôr Thlim Ith Mindon. He asked me to extend an invitation to you and Molly to meet with him at the village of Lindornëa.”

When she said this Logan got the impression of a village nestled in the boughs of hundreds of Oak trees. “I thank you for the hospitality, but my friend and I, must make plans to return to the gate and through it to our world.”

Narmartë looked troubled at this but nodded, “Very well.”

“Um, is there someplace where I might refresh myself?”

At this Narmartë looked surprised and then embarrassed, “Of course, where are my manners. Come.” With that she led Logan through the door she’d used earlier. The room beyond was small and had been part of the cave before someone had walled it off. It was now being used as a storeroom. There were shelves along one wall containing a variety of food stuffs, jars, and containers. There was also a weapons rack, holding enough weapons to outfit a Renaissance Fair. At the far end of the room were two doors and Narmartë indicated the one on the right.

“That leads to the scrying room. Please, do not use it.” Then she pointed to the one on the left. “Down a short flight of stairs you’ll find a small room with a pool and a waterfall. You can wash there. The current is slow and steady and since it is below the level main camp there is no need to worry about bathing in our water supply.”

A few minutes later Logan was standing in a small room lit by a single crystal above the door. She sat her backpack down and dug through it until she found a camp towel, fresh underwear, a set of khaki cargo pants, and clean t-shirt. Then with one last look at the open doorway Logan stripped out of her grimy clothes and grabbed a bar of soap and headed into the pool.

She let out a sharp hiss at the cold temperature, “Well, this is going to be a quick bath!” Logan felt her skin prickle up in reaction to the cold water and she glanced down to see her nipples standing out like ice chips from her breasts. “Fuck, this is weird.” Logan muttered and then ducked under the water. Even though it was cold it felt surprisingly good. When Logan came up out of the water she could feel the tattoo on her back move around. It was almost like it had a life of its own.

Then as if by some instinct Logan tried to mentally touch the tattoo. In response the image of the sexy witch-demon appeared in her mind. The demon was looking right at her and it spread its wings and then settled them behind her back so Logan could hardly see them.

*Bene, occurrit. Ego Melchiresa filia luciferi, et magistra, ignis, et metalla.*

Logan’s breath caught, she could hear the words clearly, yet no one had spoken out loud. It took her half a second to figure out what had been said, and then it came to her. ‘Well, met. I am Melchiresa, daughter of the morning star, and mistress of air, fire, and metal.’

*Frigidus es, fac calidus?*

Again the words changed in Logan’s mind shifting so that she understood the meaning. ‘You are cold, may I warm you?’

“Yes.”

Warmth suddenly blossomed within Logan. The heat emanated from the middle of her body and filled her limbs.

“Who are you?”

*Tibi dedi meo nomine. Melchiresa sum. Quondam notum sit occultus. Quæ moventur in tenebris clavae occulta potentia. Quod nomen est tibi?*

The words shifted, ‘I have given you my name. I am Melchiresa. I was once known as the Hidden One, She Who Moves-in-the-Shadows, and The Wielder of the Hidden Power. What is your name?’

“I am Logan Quinn Campbell.”

For some reason Logan felt like she needed to say her full name, even though she normally never told anyone her middle name.

*Salve, Logan Quinn Campbell, Melchiresa sum.* suddenly there was a twisting within Logan’s mind, *Ah, I see now the pattern of our thoughts.*

“Our thoughts?” she asked.

*There is no need to speak out loud. Simply direct your thoughts to me and I will hear them.*

‘How did you get in my head?’ Logan thought.

There was a moment of puzzlement. * I don’t know. There was darkness and music. Then a deeper darkness and I could tell the music came from that place. I moved toward it and as I touched it I became aware of you. The darkness flowed into me and as it did I could feel more and more of your body around me. I’ve been trying to talk to you, but you didn’t notice, until now. *

‘I’ve been a little busy.’

At this Logan remembered why she was standing waist deep in the pool and went to work scrubbing the grim and dirt from her skin. As she did Melchiresa went silent. Just as Logan was climbing out of the pool she felt a flash of memory. She was once again standing in the glade, touching the obelisk, and power was flowing into her. Logan felt the tattoo stir, *This is the moment of our birth.*

Logan didn’t know what to say so picked up her towel to dry off. *There is no need for that.* Then Logan felt a flash of heat push out from her and the water on her skin turned to steam leaving Logan dry.

“Damn it, don’t do that!”

Logan felt a sense of puzzlement. ‘Look, I’m not really sure what to make of you. But that startled me. I need to know before you do anything like that again.’

*Ah, I understand. We need to act in unison, least our enemies take advantage.*

With an internal sigh, Logan started to get dressed. ‘Look, Mel, I don’t know what enemies you’re referring too. But just don’t do anything without getting my permission first, okay?’

*Of course, Mel?*

‘Well, Melchiresa is just too long for daily use. Mel is shorter and more intimate.’

With that the voice inside of Logan went quiet and she finished dressing.

Molly looked out over the forest. The view was truly spectacular, particularly with the play of light by the setting sun. Molly glanced over at the second pillar of stone. It was just over a quarter of a mile away and was a good hundred feet shorter. Yet in the clear air Molly felt like he could reach out and touch it. For a moment Molly focused on the plateau and he felt a stirring on his back. The movement of the tattoos on his skin was an odd sensation, but it was starting to become something he was used to. Then Molly chuckled and adjusted his cock. ‘Just like I’m getting used to having a piece of meat hanging between my legs.’ He thought. ‘It really is amazing what a guy can get used to.’

Then Molly saw a movement along the side of the adjacent plateau and suddenly his vision seemed to go still and then zoom in. The movement was that of a Falcon chick moving around in the nest. Molly felt thrilled and then shocked, ‘How is it possible for me to see something that small?’

“Friend, Molly, what has your attention?” Cainir asked.

Molly pointed to the nest, “I was just watching the Falcon chick.”

The Elf looked where Molly was pointing and made a surprised noise. “I’d always heard that men had poor eyesight. Yet, I can just make out the nest and you’re watching the chicks within?”

Molly felt just as surprised but covered it up by turning to look down at the forest below. “You say that you’re surprised by my eyesight? I still can’t get over instantly learning a language.” Molly commented, remembering taking the spell-sung stone from Narmartë a few minutes ago and the sensation of disorientation and then when Narmartë spoke he’d understood every word.

At this Cainir chuckled. “Lórien’s Blessing, is not often used. We are fortunate that the nest has been stocked with spell-stones and that Narmartë is a strong enough spell-singer to enchant another one.”

Molly glanced over at the Elven warrior noticing that tall as he was, Molly was slightly taller. Molly had always been tall for a woman, but Molly was now well over six feet. “Do all Ranger squads have Spell-Singers with them?”

“We patrol in squads of three. The Knight-Commander tries to make sure that every squad has a Spell-Singer. The outer marches have grown more and more dangerous as the power of the Enemy grows. A Spell-Singer gives the squad many options we’d not otherwise have.”

Molly wasn’t exactly sure what to make of that assertion. He remembered the fight by the river and watching the darts of colored light slam into the Human-Spider monster.

“I saw Othon cause a group of rocks to heat up with just a wave of his hand. Is he also a Spell-Singer?”

Cainir laughed at this, “No, not at all. We are the First People. Each of us has some of the Music of the Ainur within us. Those like Narmartë hear the music strongly and know many melodies. Others like Othon and me can only hum a tune or two.”

Molly nodded, as though he understood, and returned to looking down at the land below. The sun was just setting and something was bothering him but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Then down by the river he thought he saw a flash of movement. Without thinking about it he caused his eyes to zoom in and his breath caught.

“Cainir, what kind of creatures are those?” Molly pointed at a bend in the river.

Cainir leaned forward looking and then let out a hiss. He reached into a belt pouch and pulled out a tube that he quickly extended to about two feet and then brought one end up to his eye.

“Orcs!” The word was more of a curse than anything else! “Molly, get Narmartë and Othon, quickly.”

Molly raced to the entrance to the cavern aware that in the lower gravity each stride was almost double the normal length. He had to slow down on the stairs so by the time he got to the cavern both Othon and Narmartë had stopped what they were doing. They’d obviously heard him rushing down the steps. Just as Molly opened his mouth Logan stepped into the room. Molly noticed that she was wearing fresh clothes and that her hair was damp.

“What has you in such a haste?” Narmartë asked.

“Cainir, asked me to bring you and Othon. We’ve spotted a group of Orcs by the river.”

At this announcement Othon surged to his feet and without a word grabbed his bow and raced up the stairs. Narmartë paused to collect the satchel she’d been carrying during the battle by the river and wrapped her green cloak around her shoulders before moving to the stairs.

Logan and Molly exchanged a look before Logan said, “Since when do you speak Elvish?”

“Since about twenty minutes ago. Narmartë had another one of those stones. Did you take a bath?”

“Yeah, there’s a pool one level down.”

At this the two of them moved up the steps. “Orcs, like, the ‘Lord of the Rings’ movie Orcs?”

“I’m not sure, they were pretty far away. I could tell they weren’t human, but sort of humanoid.”

By the time Molly and Logan joined the Elves at the edge of the plateau both warriors were using spyglasses to look down on the forest. Narmartë either didn’t need the spyglasses or trusted what her fellow Rangers were telling her.

“That’s more than just a squad.” Othon said.

“I’ve counted fifty, and if they are moving in individual groups . . .” Cainir let the sentence fall unfinished. “Then we’re looking at a Warband.” Narmartë said, finishing the thought.

“They’re headed east. There’s only one place they could be going.” Othon said, putting his spyglass down and looking over at Narmartë. “Lindornëa is the closest of the seven villages.”

“Orcs wouldn’t dare to take on a full Quenderin village.”

“Excuse me, but what are those?” Molly interrupted pointing some distance down the river from where the Orcs were crossing. Both Elven Rangers brought up their spyglasses and then after a few seconds Othon shook his head. “I don’t see anything.”

“Neither do I,” Cainir added.

“They are taller than the Orcs, maybe twice as tall. I can’t make out the skin color in this light but it looks like they are almost naked. They’re carrying clubs for weapons.” Molly said focusing intently on the land below.

Narmartë lifted her hands touching her finger tips together to form a sphere. Then she began chanting softly and brought her hands up to her eyes so she could look through her cupped fingers. Logan wasn’t sure what she saw but all at once her body language changed.

“Trolls, Mountain Trolls by the look.” Then Narmartë moved her hands scanning up and down the river. “I count at least ten Warbands, plus two groups of Trolls.” She dropped her hands, “Cainir, stay and keep watch. I’ll do a sending to the Knight-Commander. Othon, gather our supplies, we need to be ready to move in an hour.” Then she turned to look at Molly, “Atan, your eyes are very keen. Without you we might have missed this and Lindornëa would have suffered. That raiding party is large enough to threaten the village.”

Molly shrugged, “I’m glad I could help.”

Narmartë placed her hands on Molly’s shoulders. “I name you Elf-Friend from now on all Quendelië shall know you as Sornohen, Eagle-Eyes.”

Molly felt something surge through his body and then it was over. He could sense without being told that something had changed, Narmartë’s naming him had in some fundamental way connected him to the world around him.

Narmartë turned to Logan, “Come, I think you will find this interesting.”

Logan followed Narmartë as she descended into the cave and headed directly to the scrying room. Just before she went in Logan stopped her, “I thought you didn’t want me to enter this room.”

Narmartë glanced at Logan and gave her a smile. “I’ve met Atan before. You and Sornohen wear the shape of the Atan, but you are also different. Perhaps coming from another world is what I’m sensing. I know of the ruins not far from where we met. The Mólquendi, use the Ungoliantsén to guard the area closely and I think I’m starting to understand why. It is believed that the Maiar once dwelt there and that it was important to them in some way. The Song of Ainur is strong here and I believe that I’m starting to hear bits of the music in you and Sornohen. If you’re willing I would dearly like our Knight-Commander to see you.”

Logan didn’t know what to think but nodded, “Alright.”

Narmartë led Logan into a room much smaller than the room with the bathing pool. The floor was smooth and in the middle a slight depression had formed. Within the depression lay still dark, water. Around the water carved with silver letters were words in a flowing foreign script.

Narmartë reached the edge of the pool and knelt next to it. Once again she started singing softly and then after a few seconds placed a hand within the pool. As soon as she did the water began to glow with a soft white luminescence. As it did Logan felt Melchiresa stir, ‘Be still,’ Logan thought, and her sense of Melchiresa faded.

Then the pool began to swirl and in the center a small whirlpool formed then up out of the whirlpool the image of a man rose. Logan saw that the image was made of water and when it got to be about two feet high, it turned to face them.

‘Narmartë, what trouble causes you to contact me twice in one night?’

The voice had a strange quality, like it was coming from a great distance. It was also a voice filled with music and Logan got the impression of sunlight dappling through a forest.

“Sir Helcëtôr, it is with urgent news I disturb you. We have just spotted a Warband of Orcs and Mountain Trolls. The total strength is unknown, but I’d guess between five hundred and a thousand. We think they will attack Lindornëa before sunrise or soon after.”

Even though the figure was made of water Logan got the impression that he’d not been fully concentrating on the sending. Now the figure sort of sharpened. As if details that had been kind of out of focus because Helcëtôr’s attention was divided now tightened into perfect clarity. Logan could see every line of the armor Helcëtôr wore and noticed that his hair was moving by an unseen, or felt, wind.

“Follow them. Take any scouts you can, but don’t risk too much. Make sure they are going to Lindornëa and that they don’t stumble upon the Way.”

Logan was impressed. The Elvish commander didn’t waste time or words asking if Narmartë was sure. Instead he shifted to giving orders.

“Yes, my lord.”

“I will contact Lindornëa’s Guard-Captain and alert her.” Then he paused to consider, “Sunrise is in nine hours, Ilcanalta is the closest village even if it is a ten hour march. If they make haste they can join forces with Lindornëa’s defenders.” Sir Helcëtôr paused to rub his chin and consider, “Is there anything else, Captain?”

“Yes, Sir, I have with me the Atan female, Logan. I can feel the Song of Ainur within her and thought you’d like to meet her.”

At this Logan stepped up to the edge of the pool and she could feel Sir Helcëtôr turn his attention to her. Even though she was looking at a statue constructed of water Logan knew that this meeting was in some way important.

“Greetings, Daughter of Man. I would that we were meeting under better conditions.”

“It is an honor to meet you.”

“Narmartë tells me that you fought well against the Mólquendi, and their servants the Ungoliantsén. I would offer assistance, in returning you to your Gate, but the defense of Lindornëa takes precedence.”

“I understand my Lord.” Then on impulse, “I would like to offer you our help. My companion and I are capable woodsmen and fighters in our own right. I would not have it said that I stood by while an innocent village is threatened.”

The image in the pool seemed to consider Logan’s offer for a minute then he looked over at Narmartë, “As the on-scene commander, I will leave the decision to you, Captain.” When Narmartë nodded he continued, “I must go, if we are to organize the defense.” Then not waiting for an answer the image collapsed back into the pool and the water slowly became still once more.

Narmartë stood up flicking the water from her hand back into the pool. Then she turned to Logan, “I will be glad of your help. But we must move swiftly.”

Logan moved silently through the woods a few yards to her left Molly glided along. It was now the darkest part of the night and Logan had no trouble seeing. During the descent from the Falcon’s Nest Melchiresa had spoken silently to Logan and asked her if she needed help seeing. When she’d agreed it was like a curtain had been lifted. Now even though it was almost pitch black Logan had no trouble. Interestingly, by the way Molly was moving he wasn’t having any trouble either. During one of their rest breaks Logan had brought up the tattoos and Molly hadn’t wanted to talk about them. But she could tell that there was more going on with Molly. The Elves were now calling him Sornohen and Logan knew she should too, if only to prevent confusion, while on a mission. Logan just hoped that whatever was going on wouldn’t prevent them from getting home.

Sornohen held up a fist and Logan froze. He pointed ahead and to the right. It took a second before Logan saw it. A pair of Orc scouts. They’d attached bits and pieces of leaves and small branches to their armor. A crude camouflage but in the night it broke up their outline and was partially effective. Logan motioned to Cainir who was a dozen feet to her right, but he’d already spotted the Orcs. Cainir lifted his bow but held back. Othon and Narmartë were behind them and without Othon’s bow they didn’t have a way to kill the other Orc silently from a distance.

*I can help.*

‘How?’

*You want it silent and quick? You can borrow my strength, you are already stronger here than most creatures your size, I can make you even stronger. I am also the mistress of air, fire, and metal. I can teach you many things.*

‘I don’t have time for a lesson now, lend me your strength.’

As soon as Logan finished thinking it energy flooded her body. Her clothes suddenly felt tight as if she just grew a couple of inches and she could feel her chest expand so that the bra she was wearing now cut painfully into her. At the same time she felt STRONG. Without waiting for Sornohen or Cainir Logan glided forward. She reached up and pulled the combat knife from her vest. In a few seconds she’d moved behind the second Orc. From where Cainir stood this would be the harder Orc to shoot.

Both Orcs had stopped. They were sniffing the wind, luckily, or perhaps by some instinct Logan had approached them from downwind. The taller of the two Orcs said something but Logan didn’t understand it. They started to move forward and Logan attacked. She leapt forward covering a dozen feet landing softly right behind the smaller Orc. At the same moment she landed Logan drove the knife down at an angle into the Orc’s neck cutting through his windpipe.

The Orc stiffened and tried to turn, Logan let go of the knife and grabbed each side of the Orc’s head and twisted. Logan knew that she was strong, stronger than she’d been even in her male body, but the ease with which she snapped the Orc’s neck surprised her.

There must have been some slight sound because the first Orc turned and as he did an arrow appeared as if by magic, in his throat. Logan let go of the Orc she’d just killed and jumped to the larger one. Catching him as his body started to twitch, with a quick twist she broke his neck as well, stilling him. For a second Logan looked down at her hands not recognizing them. They were still a woman’s hands only now the fingers were a longer and at the end of each finger the nail had turned into a three inch talon. Logan could also feel a sense of glee from Mel at having killed.

‘Enough, back off.’ Logan silently ordered and she felt Melchiresa fade. As her presence faded Logan watched her hands return to normal and her clothes got looser.

*Poo . . . I was just having a little fun.*

‘Are you pouting?’

Logan silently shook her head when her inquiry was met with silence and couldn’t help laughing a little. By the time Logan had retrieved her knife Sornohen had caught up with her. Logan could tell he was angry but he kept silent. Cainir was looking at her with a thoughtful expression.

“There are more scouts to hunt, come.” was all Cainir said.

By the time they’d finished off their fifth set of scouts it was starting to get light. The group had moved away from the Warband and Narmartë spoke softly.

“The Orcs have halted to concentrate their forces for the attack. They know something isn’t right because their scouts have failed to report back. I managed to make contact with the Guard Captains’ from Lindornëa and Ilcanalta. They have set up an ambush and requested we move off to the northeast to give them room to work. We can watch from that small ridge,” at this Narmartë waved to where the sea of trees thinned. “If any of the foul folk escape the trap and come our way we’re to destroy them.”

By the time they’d moved to the small ridge it had gotten even lighter and then abruptly a set of silver horns blasted the quiet morning air. War-cries rang out in the forest and Logan knew that the ambush had been sprung. The five settled in a line on the ridge watching the fighting below. It was difficult to make out the details in the trees. But from the sounds of things it wasn’t going well for the raiders. The brazen horns of the Elves were moving forward and the screams of the Orcs echoed up from the forest.

“Contact!”

The shout in English focused Logan on the tree line. She saw, bursting from the trees below, a group of Orcs and a pair of Mountain Trolls race toward the ridge. Without waiting to be told Sornohen and Logan opened up. The charging Orcs were about three hundred meters away. Logan kept her AK in semi-auto and picked each shot carefully. From this range even the mighty Elven bows weren’t able to reach their targets. Orcs stumbled and fell as Sornohen and Logan shot. At a hundred and fifty meters Othon and Cainir joined in and more Orcs started falling.

“Reloading,” Logan shouted and slapped in a fresh mag.

“Logan, aim for the Trolls!”

Logan shifted her shots to the pair of Trolls that lumbered forward and even though she was aiming for head shots nothing seemed to work. Now they were only fifty meters away. Then Narmartë stepped forward. She lifted the wand Logan had seen her use before and aimed it at the closest Troll and sang out a phrase she couldn’t quite catch. The energy that shot out hit the Troll in the chest staggering it.

“By the power of the White Flame of Ondolindë, DIE,” Narmartë exclaimed!

This time the energy that blasted from her wand was thicker and more powerful it struck the Troll and the creature burst into flames screaming loud enough to make Logan’s ears ring. But even as the first Troll fell the second surged forward and raised its club with both hands in order to smash Narmartë.

*Let me help!*

Logan instantly agreed and the tattoo on her back flared and then once again energy flowed into her. The light seemed to shift and time slowed. Logan dropped her rifle and lifted a taloned hand and pointed it at the Troll who was bringing his club down slowly toward Narmartë. White hot flames burst from Logan’s extended hand in a bar of fire as thick as her wrist. The fire struck the Troll engulfing it in flames. Narmartë stumbled back raising a hand to ward off the heat.

The crack of gunfire brought Logan back and the world returned to normal speed. The Orcs that had cowered behind the Trolls now charged and Logan picked up her rifle noticing in an abstract way that her hand had returned to normal. She now focused on making each shot count. Suddenly, a war cry echoed from the side. The Orcs had sent a small group around to flank them. A dozen Orcs swarmed forward and Othon and Cainir dropped their bows and drew their swords.

Then Sornohen’s AK clicked empty. “I’m out!” With that Molly dropped his AK but instead of going for his M-9 he extended his left hand. Light seemed to flow toward his hand coalescing into a golden trident nearly six feet in length. The weapon appeared just in time for Sornohen to drive it into the chest of the first Orc. There was a crack like thunder and the Orc was thrown back his body burned beyond recognition. Sornohen spun around whirling the trident over his head and brought the shaft down, like it was a quarter staff, to hit another Orc on the shoulder. There was a second crack and this Orc also fell. Logan wasn’t sure what the trident was made of but it was a formidable weapon.

An Orc tried to attack Othon from behind and Logan shot it and then her AK clicked empty. Logan looked around for new threats, none presented themselves. For a second Logan felt the urge to throw off her backpack and body-armor and stretch her wings. It would be much easier to hunt Orcs from the sky. Then she realized what she’d thought and shook her head, she didn’t have wings!

Sensing someone approaching Logan turned and saw that Narmartë had moved over to her. “Thank you. You saved my life.”

Logan felt a little embarrassed. “You would have done the same for me.”

Then as if by agreement they both turned to look down at the battle. From where they stood they could see the flash of sunlight on silver and golden armor. The Elves were advancing from all sides driving the Orcs and Trolls back.

“Should we help?” Logan asked.

“No, we were told to stay here and stop any stragglers from getting over this ridge. The battle will soon be over.”

Othon joined the women and he nodded to the Troll that Logan had burned. “Narmartë said the Song was strong within you.”

Logan didn’t know what to say so she kept silent but Narmartë looked over at her. “I think it was the will of Manwë that brought you to us.” Then she reached out to lay a hand on Logan’s shoulder, “I name you Elf-friend, and will call you from this time on, Ilcaúrna, Blazing White-Fire.”

Author Note:

1: This story is based on the Altered Fates Universe concept established by Jennifer Adams, however I’ve taken some artistic liberties so this story doesn’t strictly adhere to the rules Jennifer established.

2: This is also a fanfic of the J.R.R. Tolkien world of Middle Earth in an untold tale of the First Age. Please note; I didn’t stay completely true to the Middle Earth that Tolkien set up. This is my take on what Middle Earth in the First Age might have been like.

Logan wrapped the freshly dampened bandana around her nose and mouth trying to filter out some of the smell. The sun was now directly overhead and the Elves had been hard at work collecting the bodies of the slain Orcs and Trolls. Logan counted at least a dozen large pyres already burning fiercely. Unfortunately, from her position atop the ridge, and with the wind from the east, the smoke from the fires was making it difficult to breath.

Logan glanced over at Molly and saw that he’d adopted a similar tactic to filter some of the smoke. Narmartë had left once the battle had moved away from them asking Molly and Logan to stay on the ridge with Othon and Cainir. Logan assumed that she didn’t want them to bump into a group of Elfish warriors and become mistaken for a foe. Logan settled a little lower trying to escape some of the stench, and reflected that the Elves were very efficient. After the fighting had stopped they immediately began cleaning up the battlefield.

“Hey, how are you doing?”

Logan glanced up Molly had seen her look and come over. “I’m fine. I wouldn’t mind getting off this ridge though.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I didn’t realize that bodies stunk so badly when they’re burned.”

Logan glanced at Molly a little concerned, he might have inherited Logan’s weapons and battle skills, and even some of Logan’s memories, but he hadn’t experienced a battle before. This was bound to hit him.

“Yeah, but if you want something that really stinks, try pouring gasoline on a bucket of shit and burning it.” Logan shook her head, “At least this just smells like burning meat and wood.”

They both sat back and watched the Elves for a bit. “Okay, out with it.” Molly said.

“Out with what?”

“You’ve been giving me looks for over an hour, what’s up?”

“During the fight, when you ran out of ammo, I saw you fighting with a glowing trident.”

At this Molly nodded, “I know, it was the strangest thing. I was out of ammo and about to go for my 9mm and then my arm started burning and I just knew that if I summoned it my trident would appear.”

“Can you do it again?”

Molly looked thoughtful for a second, “Yeah, I think so. I mean I can feel it right now, and I think if I called it would come, why?”

“I . . . can you talk to it?”

At this Molly shook his head, “No. How could I? It’s just a weapon.” Then he looked closer at Logan. “What aren’t you telling me? Wait, Cainir said that Narmartë had named you. Um . . . Ilcaúrna, the white blaze, or White Fire?”

“The blazing white fire is what Narmartë called me.”

“Why, what did you do?”

“I set one of the attacking Trolls on fire.”

Molly whistled, and then looked closer, “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I . . . it’s my tattoo, the witch-demon. I can talk to her. She says her name is Melchiresa, the mistress of Air, Fire, and Metal.”

“Really; Wow! I never named her. I just thought she looked sexy, dangerous, and I was sort of at a rebellious place when I had it done. Daddy was so mad he could spit and mom didn’t talk to me for a week.”

Logan looked worried but pressed on, “She wants to teach me to use her powers, and when I used them in battle, they changed me.”

“Changed you how?”

“When I let her strength come into me my body gets bigger, and I’m stronger and faster.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“For now, but I’m afraid that there are things about Melchiresa that I don’t know.” Then Logan looked intently at Molly, “Have you talked to any of your tattoos? The Griffin or the Spartan Hero?”

“No,” then Molly looked a little thoughtful, “well, now that I think about it. When I need to see something better I can sort of feel the Griffin and last night during our fight with the Orc scouts I could feel energy flowing from him into me and then my eyesight just sharpened and I could see in the dark. What do you think it means?”

“I don’t know. But it was that Obelisk that did it.”

Before Molly could reply Cainir shouted and they looked up to see a small group of Elfish Knights coming toward them. Narmartë was in the middle of the group walking next to a tall Knight in golden and green armor. Molly and Logan climbed to their feet and followed Othon and Cainir who were moving down the side of the hill to greet the approaching Elves. They stopped a dozen feet from the Elves and Narmartë walked a few steps forward.

“My Lord, Knight-Commander Sir Helcëtôr, these are rangers, Cainir son of Duvainor and Othon son of Aeglosson.”

“Cainir and Othon, you are both to be commended! You did well in discovering this raid and taking out the foul one’s scouts. The loss of those scouts allowed our trap to work flawlessly. Well done!”

Logan felt the power of Sir Helcëtôr’s voice resonate within her bones. Both of the young rangers bowed deeply at their leader’s compliment. Then as the pair straightened up Narmartë gestured toward Molly and Logan.

“These are the Atan I told you about. Sornohen, Eagle-Eye, spotted the foul ones and fought bravely against them. In battle the Song of Ainur flowed through him and he struck down the enemy with a weapon of light!” At this the Elves making up the party murmured in awe but Narmartë continued by gesturing toward Logan. “This is Ilcaúrna, the Blazing White-Fire, she slew a Troll by the Song. I have named them both Elf-Friends.”

Sir Helcëtôr, nodded and stepped closer, he was taller than Molly and when he smiled Logan was stunned by his raw physical beauty. “Sornohen, Ilcaúrna, I welcome you to the lands of King Turukáno. The village of Lindornëa is an hour’s walk from here. Please allow me to offer you hospitality for the night.”

Molly nodded and stepped forward, “My Lord, we’d be honored to accept.”

The village of Lindornëa was one of the most beautiful sights that Logan had ever seen. The sun was still high in the afternoon sky when the trees opened before them. This allowed the small group a good view down a gentle hill into the village. Dividing the village was a branch of the river they’d crossed earlier and at first it was difficult for Logan to see where the village started and stopped. The buildings had been crafted gracefully from wood and were built into the trees themselves. And then there were the trees! They were a variety of Oak that Logan had never seen before. The bark was a pale white that reminded Logan of the White Birch trees of her native Michigan, except that the vibrant green leaves were shaped like an oak leaf. But more impressive than the white on green beauty of the trees was their size. The trees were huge!

Logan had never seen a tree more than a hundred feet tall. She remembered hearing that the Giant Red-Wood trees in California could get up to three hundred feet, but unless she was mistaken these trees had to be at least five hundred feet tall. Then Logan spotted the bridges arching gracefully over the river connecting the east and west banks.

“The village of Lindornëa was one of the first settlements of our people after we crossed the ice.” Narmartë said, causing Logan to jump. The woman could move absolutely silently when she wanted to!

“I’ve never seen anything like it.”

At this Narmartë laughed gaily, “My people Thlim Ith Mindon built this place, your actions have saved many of my House.” After a moment’s pause she added, “In the winter when the snow lies deeply upon the ground, the trees blend in perfectly looking like individual towers of snow.”

While they’d been talking the rest of the group headed down to the village. Leaving the five companions slightly behind. The Elves seemed content to wait until their human guests were ready to move forward. After a few minutes Narmartë said, “My family has moved to Ondolindë but I have a small house in the village. I would be honored if you would stay with me.”

“We’d be glad to stay with you Narmartë.” Molly replied before Logan could answer.

“Come, there will be a feast tonight to celebrate the victory.” Cainir said.

With that they moved down into the village and if Logan had been impressed by the size of the trees before, now, up close, it was stunning. The Elves built with impossible skill and after a few minutes Logan started to wonder if they used magic in their crafting. There were gardens around the village and under the trees themselves. Logan realized these gardens must be a primary source of food. Then she noticed that in addition to buildings set within the trees there were tiers of hanging gardens.

There were paths constructed of stone and wood along the ground and Narmartë led them along a wide street waving occasionally at people she knew. Logan continued to stare in awe at the village. Some of the buildings gracefully flowed between the branches and trunk of a single tree while others arched between several the trees. Then Logan realized this wasn’t a village, it was a small town. If she had to guess Logan would have said that several thousand Elves lived in this place. There were stairs, ramps, and ladders leading up into the tree city and Narmartë now brought them to a wide set of stairs that wound around the trunk of a single tree. As large as this tree was, it was one of the smaller ones Logan had passed. At this Cainir and Othon said goodbye at the first landing moving along separate hanging bridges into different trees. Before they left they assured Molly and Logan that they would see them later.

The climb felt like it went on and on, and it occurred to Logan that only in a world with lesser gravity could a town like this have been constructed. Once they were a couple hundred feet above ground Narmartë led them over a bridge between two massive branches and then up another hundred feet. The house she brought them to was constructed of a nearly white wood, and was nestled against the trunk of the tree. The main door opened at a word from Narmartë and spell-sung stones flared to life at the return their mistress.

Logan quickly realized this was a decent sized house with three bedrooms, a combination kitchen and eating area, a room Narmartë called the water room, a main sitting room, and a ‘sanctum,’ whatever that was.

“I’m sure that you could use some time to refresh yourselves.” Narmartë said after giving them a quick tour of her house. “There will be a feast tonight and you will both be guests of honor. The water room has a bath, and if you have need, I’m sure I can find some clothes for you for tonight.”

“That won’t be necessary. We’ve extra, although nothing particularly fancy.” Molly said.

“I think my people will be impressed by the exotic nature of your garb, fancy or simple.”

Molly turned to Logan, “Dibs on the bath.”

“Fat chance, I’m playing the female card. I get first use.”

At this Molly chuckled, “As you wish, my lady.”

Logan quickly dropped off her gear in the room Narmartë had indicated was hers and then dug through for fresh clothes. As Molly had said there wasn’t anything fancy. Fresh khaki pants, underwear, and a light white cotton top that looked nice. Then Logan spotted the light silk bathrobe that she’d overlooked the first time she’d done an inventory. Logan quickly stripped, slipped into the bathrobe and collected the shower kit from the backpack before heading to the water room.

The room was obviously what Logan would have called a bathroom. It had a tall tub a sink with a circular mirror and what looked like a toilet. It took Logan a few minutes of experimentation to figure out how to use the crystal controls to bring water to the tub and sink as well as flush. Somehow she managed to sense the flow of magic through the crystals and Melchiresa offered a suggestion or two.

When Logan had a tub full of hot water she slowly eased into it, letting out a hiss as the hot water hit her more delicate parts. Once she settled in she was startled by how buoyant her breasts were and how much the hot water caused her to relax. Even though gravity here was less than what she was used to, a day and night of hiking followed by a battle had left Logan, tired, sore, and bruised. As she relaxed Logan started to drift off a little and could feel Melchiresa stir.

*This feels nice.*

‘Yes.’

*May I stretch?*

Logan didn’t really know what Melchiresa meant but she didn’t sense any ill intent and by this point she was half drowsing.

‘I guess.’

Logan felt a pushing of energy from her back and then she had that same feeling of growing and expanding. Muscles rippled, skin stretched, it was like Logan’s whole body was being reshaped, yet it wasn’t painful. This went on for several seconds and Logan couldn’t move and then it was done. The first thing Logan noticed was that water was now sloshing over the sides of the tub.

*Ah, much better!*

Logan felt a sense of relief and happiness flow from Melchiresa. Logan glanced down and gasped. Logan had thought that Molly had a great figure with perfectly sized breasts. When she’d become Molly’s twin Logan thought that her new boobs were too damn big. But now they were huge! Logan surged to her feet and for a second had trouble balancing and spread her wings. Then it hit her, she had WINGS!

‘What have you done?’ Logan practically screamed into the vault of her mind.

*Just a little stretching. Doesn’t it feel better, now that our body matches our power?*

Logan could hardly see down past her massive mammaries and then she remembered the mirror. She stepped out of the tub, ignoring the water that ran everywhere and moved to the mirror. The woman that looked back at Logan was stunning. Logan’s red hair had been replaced with long midnight tresses and her figure was an exaggerated hourglass. In fact it was as if she’d been reshaped into the perfect male sex fantasy. ‘How can tits this big look so firm?’ the thought drifted through Logan’s stunned mind.

After a few seconds of astonished staring some of the finer details began to penetrate Logan’s masculine brain. She slowly reached up and touched the small, cute, metallic horns pushing out from the hair on her brow. Then she looked at her hands. They were longer and the fingernails could substitute for claws. In fact unless Logan was completely wrong they also seemed metallic. Then she noticed that her skin while still light was now a shade of red. Getting a good view of her waist and hairless crotch was challenging with her new breasts but Logan saw that at some point below her knees her legs sort of shifted looking like nothing a human would have. The skin hardened until it was more like scales than skin and where her feet should be there was a pair of taloned appendages. Then it hit Logan these looked more like the hind legs of a dragon.

Logan felt her wings shift in response to her confused thoughts and out of curiosity tried to spread them. The wings responded instantly and she realized that she could touch each wall of the bathroom with them and still not have them fully spread. The underside of her wings was the same midnight color of her hair while the back of them matched her skin tone. Then with a thought Logan folded them and realized that folded they looked like some great cape.

‘What have you done to me?’

*I’ve just shown you our true shape.*

‘Can we change back?’

*Of course. But why would we?*

‘Because, no one will recognize me, for one. For two, we’ll scare the hell out of everyone!’

*Oh, poo.* There was the sound of a pout in Melchiresa’s thought and then Logan felt the energy that filled her body slowly pull back. When it did Logan noticed how Melchiresa did it and felt sure that she’d be able to duplicate the move. As the energy receded Logan watched in fascination as her body seemed to shimmer and shift and in a few seconds the familiar form of Molly Falk stared back at Logan from the mirror.

“Thank God!”

*Hehehehehehe . . .*

By the time night was falling Logan had just finished getting ready. After her bath she returned to her room for a quick nap. A pounding on the door roused Logan and she saw that it was Molly. He was dressed in a clean set of clothes and his hair was still damp from using the water room.

“Um . . . I was wondering if you needed help?”

“With what?”

“Well, getting ready. I didn’t pack any nice clothes in but there’s a bit of makeup and I can help you with your hair.”

At first Logan thought about refusing but then relented and let Molly in. The makeup consisted of a little lipstick, foundation and mascara. The skills that Logan had gained from the medallion when she became Molly came in handy now. Molly watched with an amused look on his face as Logan took care of the basics. Then Molly helped Logan with her hair. The soft, fine, red hair under Molly’s expert hands was put into a style that braided the bangs and wrapped them around her head while allowing the rest to flow down her shoulders.

“I swear that your hair is at least a couple of inches longer than it was three days ago.”

“Hair doesn’t grow that fast.” Logan tried to argue.

When they were done Logan had to admit to the reflection in the bedroom mirror, that the woman staring back was very beautiful, with her pale skin, red hair, and blue eyes.

“Well, my lady, are you ready to go to the ball?” Molly asked a smirk twitching his lips as he extended an arm.

Deciding to ignore the teasing Logan looked at her weapons belt. “Do you think we should bring them?”

“Naw, it’s a feast and we’re the guests of honor. We’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” with that Logan slipped her hand through Molly’s extended arm. “You know this is my first ball as a woman and I’m not even in a dress.”

“Ha! How about this, when we get back home, I’ll take you dancing and you can were one of my dresses.”

“Um, that sounds nice, but I’m not sure I’ll be ready for that.”

When Logan and Molly reached the main room they found Narmartë already waiting and to their surprise both Cainir and Othon were there. Now that they were out of their armor it was easy to see a family resemblance between Cainir and Othon. Both Elves were the same height and general build. Each Elven Ranger was tall, with broad shoulders and they looked a little out of place in formal tunic and trousers. As if they were each more comfortable in steel and leather than cloth. Cainir’s hair was a little lighter than Othon’s chestnut colored hair. And then there was Narmartë. The Captain was as tall as Othon and Cainir which gave her the height to look Molly in the eye. This made Logan feel positively short! Even with the height Narmartë in her light grey-sliver gown looked absolutely beautiful. She was thin, in the Elfish way, with small firm breasts that were enough to declare her gender without getting in the way.

Logan felt a flash of jealousy at Narmartë’s beauty and squished it but not before she felt Melchiresa stir.

*We’re more attractive in our true form.*

‘Shush! I don’t care if she’s prettier than me, I’m a guy!’

Othon and Cainir both bowed when they entered while Narmartë curtsied. “Are you ready?”

Molly was silent and when Logan glanced at him she saw that he was staring at Narmartë with a stunned look on his face. Feeling amused she stepped on his foot and said, “Yes, although I fear we’re both underdressed for tonight.”

“Nonsense,” Othon said. “We know you’re traveling and have limited access to formal raiment.”

Molly glared down at Logan but said, “Please, lead the way. I can only speak for myself, but I’m quite hungry.”

The walk to the village’s feast hall took them over several suspended bridges and around numerous buildings. The size, shape, and function of each building was different and unique but the one thing they all had in common was the delicate sweeping beauty. The three Elves kept up a steady dialogue about the village. Pointing out the function of the public buildings and the names of friends they passed. In fact the number of greetings and introductions caused them to take a considerable time getting to the feast hall. About half way to the hall Logan became convinced that the three rangers must know everyone in the village and that anyone who wasn’t going to attend the feast had made sure to find a spot along their route. After a few minutes Logan realized that the reason so many Elves had come out to see them must be simple curiosity. Most of these Elves had never seen an Atan before.

Then Logan caught sight of a great platform constructed of wood in the shape of a square. It was at least a hundred yards across with no roof or walls and it was by far the largest open area Logan had yet seen within Lindornëa. The platform had dozens of long tables set up and Elves were already mingling among the tables. The sounds of music drifted out over the night air and lights set within the boughs above the platform began to softly come alive.

For a second Logan felt like she’d fallen into one of the Tolkien movies that had come out a few years ago. Then she heard Molly clear his throat. When she glanced at him she saw him quirk an eyebrow and she didn’t need to ask to know what he meant. This was one of the most amazing things either of them had seen. Then when they arrived at the feast hall Narmartë brought them to a cluster of tall Elves standing in a clear area.

Logan spotted Sir Helcëtôr at the center of the crowd by the fact that he was taller than everyone else. When he caught sight of Narmartë he moved through the crowd toward them.

“Welcome Narmartë, sister-daughter, it warms my heart to see you in something other than field-clothes.”

At this Narmartë curtsied deeply bowing her head for a moment before looking up, “Uncle, may I present to you again, the Atan Elf-Friends Sornohen and Ilcaúrna.”

When Sir Helcëtôr nodded, Narmartë turned to Molly and Logan, “This is Sir Helcëtôr Thlim Ith Mindon, Knight-Commander of the Ondolindë Ranger Corps and Lord Protector of the Seven Villages of the Southern March. He has requested that you sit with him as we celebrate the victory at Quick Water Ridge.”

Logan was too startled by the formality of the setting to say anything and the beauty of the Elves was making it hard for her to think. Fortunately Molly recovered first, “We’d be honored to dine with Sir Helcëtôr.”

As if this were a signal the Elves began to move to the tables and sit down. Sir Helcëtôr and Narmartë led Molly and Logan to a table set at one end of the platform. The table rested on a slight dais and was perpendicular to the rest of the tables. This allowed the Elves eating here to see those at the other tables and was what Molly thought of as the head table. Molly and Logan found themselves sitting to either side of Sir Helcëtôr, with Narmartë sitting next to Molly, and a male Elf named Raegdil next to Logan. Raegdil was a cousin of Narmartë, although he made it clear that he wasn’t a ranger. He was a spell-singer who specialized in Ulmo’s Refrain, ‘whatever that was,’ Logan thought.

Once everyone at the feast had found a seat Sir Helcëtôr stood up and clapped his hands once. The sound was surprisingly loud and the hall quieted.

“Greetings my kinsmen and friends, we are gathered tonight to pay tribute to our fallen brothers and sisters and to thank Illúvatar for our victory over the forces of Morgoth. The minstrels will sing the song of the fallen, and will praise the valor of Erudaugron Toralaonel who led the charge against the Hruo and died while fighting the largest of them. We will hear of the might of Glanmerun Celeendthor who used his bow to kill the Orcs and when his battalion was attacked dropped his bow and with sword and shield slew the Orc Captain.” At this the Elves at the tables burst into cheering for the heroism of the fallen. When they quieted Sir Helcëtôr continued, “We will also hear of the rangers who protect us. Captain Narmartë and her troop discovered the raid and gave us the time to marshal our forces, but that wasn’t enough for our brave Captain, she and her rangers spent a night killing Orc scouts ensuring our trap would be a surprise.”

This time the applause was even louder. Narmartë was obviously a favorite of the Elves. When they quieted Sir Helcëtôr cleared his throat, “And we will sing of the Atan Elf-Friends Sornohen, and Ilcaúrna. How they assisted Narmartë and fought along with us against Morgoth’s servants.” There was a pause and then after a second a scattered applause that gradually got a little louder but Logan could tell it was halfhearted. As if the Elves present didn’t really know how to react to the human’s who’d helped fight the Orcs.

“Let the feast begin!”

At Sir Helcëtôr command servants started moving around the tables carrying trays of food and bottles of libation. After a moment Raegdil leaned over to Logan, “Do not be disturbed by the lackluster response to your deeds, Lady Ilcaúrna, most of my kin simply do not know what to think of the Atan.”

Logan was prevented from having to respond by a servant who offered to pour a glass of wine. After trying a sip of the light white wine Logan thought this was the best wine she’d ever had.

“Do they have miruvor in your land?” Raegdil asked.

“Yes, of course. Although wine has never been my favorite drink. I must confess this is the best I’ve ever tasted.”

“I’m not surprised. The grapes used for this came from the gardens of Yavanna in Valinor. King Turukáno brought these vines with him from Valinor and gifted them to Helcëtôr that he might enjoy a small taste of Valinor to ease his burden here in the Southern Marches.”

As the banquet continued Logan was impressed with the quality of the food, it was easily the best dinner she’d ever had. While they ate minstrels moved among the tables playing and entertaining. As the night deepened the crystals woven into the boughs above the feast platform shone brighter and brighter in a multitude of colored light. Logan discovered that besides tasting delicious the wine of the Elves was one of the stronger drinks she’d ever had.

“So my lady, Ilcaúrna, tell me of your land. Do you have kin? A husband perhaps?” Raegdil asked.

“Um, a husband? No.” Logan responded trying not to shudder. “My parents died several years ago and I don’t have any brothers or sisters. I do have several cousins.”

“Will they come searching for you? I would think that a woman as beautiful as you would cause her relatives much concern should you go missing.”

“No, not really. I’m a sailor. They’re used to me disappearing for months at a time.” Then Logan blinked. She must really be drunk. She wasn’t a sailor anymore, she was a civilian, but even so her cousins wouldn’t come looking for her. Besides if they did they’d never recognize her!

By the time the last course had been served Logan thought her sides would split from eating so much. This had easily been the best meal she’d ever had and there was a part of her that wished she could continue. But her stomach told her that there wasn’t room for any more food. Then the lights dimmed and a minstrel with a harp came forward and began to sing of the fallen. As the first notes were struck the hall fell silent.

Logan felt a stirring in the air and Melchiresa sort of sat up and took notice. The music was hauntingly beautiful and then when the singer started in Logan felt as though she could see the battle unfold. Morgoth’s forces crossing into Nevrast in small bands to avoid notice was clever. Then as they paused to gather their strength the forces under Sir Helcëtôr’s command struck. The foul ones weren’t ready yet they fought with a desperate rage. The Hruo or Mountain Trolls had fought hard and had proven very difficult to kill. The bard then sang of Erudaugron Toralaonel who charged the Captain of the Hruo and defeated him breaking the spirit of the Trolls. In Logan’s mind’s eye she could see the battle play out. An Elf Captain in shining green and gold armor fighting a Troll more than half again his height and three times his weight. Spear versus club, skill versus brute force, the battle unfolded as the Elf wounded the Troll. Then in a full rage the Troll charged faster than the Elf had expected and setting the butt of his spear against the ground he impaled the Troll. But in its rage the Troll moved forward and brought its club down on the Elf. Even though he was wearing a helmet it was no use against the raw power of the Troll. And both Elven and Hruo captains died. Logan felt a lump in her throat and her eyes get watery at the beauty and bravery of the fallen hero.

Then the minstrel moved on to a battalion of archers. Logan saw a vision of Elves moving through the woods to take up firing positions. At the edge of the wood they watched as the Orcs charged attempting attack the Elven center. Then Captain Glanmerun Celeendthor gave the command and the archers loosed a volley. The arrows fell like a deadly hail upon the Orcs. From their position the battalion wreaked havoc upon the Orc’s, such that the Orc Captain ordered a sally against them. The speed with which the Orcs reacted caught the Elves by surprise. The picket line between the archers and the Orcs was over run and when there wasn’t anything between the battalion and the rushing enemy, Captain Glanmerun ordered the withdrawal of his force. Then he drew his sword and led his personal guard in an attack on the Orcs in an attempt to buy the time needed for the archers to escape. Logan felt her heart race as one by one the members of Glanmerun’s House-guard fell until only the captain stood surrounded by foes his bright sword flashing in fury and then, eventually, he was born under by a tidal wave of Orcs.

Logan now felt tears streaming down her cheeks as the minstrel moved on singing about how Glanmerun’s sacrifice slowed the Orc advance and caused them to divide their forces. She sang of how this slowing had allowed the archers to escape. Then the song and vision shifted. Now Knight Commander Sir Helcëtôr at the center of the battle called upon the reserve and led the charge personally. His assault was like thunder upon a plain rolling over the Orcs smashing all sense of organization as he drove to the middle of the host and confronted the Orc Commander. The battle between the Orc and Helcëtôr had been a brief vicious fight and it ended when Helcëtôr’s bright blade removed the Orc’s head from his shoulders.

Once their leader fell the fight went out of the Orc raiders and they fled the field allowing the victorious Elves to pursue them. As the notes of the song wound down the vision that had filled Logan’s mind also faded. She shook her head and looked around the hall and noticed that she wasn’t the only one who’d been entranced by the song.

Sir Helcëtôr looked over at Logan, “Ilcaúrna, well did Narmartë name you Elf-Friend, for unless I miss my guess you’ve just experienced the Olorlirilla. The Song-Vision only comes to those who can truly hear the music of Ainur.”

Logan shook her head and wiped her eyes, “I don’t know anything about the music of Ainur. But I could actually see the battle unfold and the heroes as they fought the darkness.”

Helcëtôr nodded, “Yes, even so. Only those who can hear the music are so deeply affected. Both you and Sornohen can hear the music. You are rare among the Atan.”

Logan felt like she needed to squirm under the intense blue eyed gaze of Helcëtôr. He knew there was a mystery here and she could tell he wanted to understand it.

Then the night was shattered by the clang of a mighty bell being struck. For a second everyone sat in stunned silence and then the sound reverberated through the hall again. Now there was an explosion of activity as Elves surged to their feet. Then screams from the edge of the village reached them and fire lit the night.

“What’s going on?!” Logan asked surging to her feet.

Helcëtôr looked over at Logan, a stunned look on his face, “We’re under attack.” Then he was moving, shouting orders and the Elves leapt to obey.

Logan looked over at Molly who’d climbed to his feet looking around as if expecting to be attacked at any second. When their eyes meet Logan couldn’t resist saying, “I told you we should have brought weapons.”

Then Molly grinned, “I brought mine.”

With that he held out his left hand and once again light seemed to coalesce around it forming a trident. Logan couldn’t help feeling annoyed.

“That’s totally unfair!”

Just then there was a sound like thunder and the branches above them burst into flame as something dropped through the boughs to land on the platform knocking everyone in the area from their feet. The creature stood up and Logan felt a thrill of fear course through her, the creature was at least ten feet tall and wreathed in flame and darkness at the same time. Then it cracked its whip and drew a sword that burst into fire.

Narmartë’s horrified shout cut through the chaos. “May Illúvatar save us, a BALROG!”

Author Note:

1: This story is based on the Altered Fates Universe concept established by Jennifer Adams, however I’ve taken some artistic liberties so this story doesn’t strictly adhere to the rules Jennifer established.

2: This is also a fanfic of the J.R.R. Tolkien world of Middle Earth in an untold tale of the First Age. Please note; I didn’t stay completely true to the Middle Earth that Tolkien set up. This is my take on what Middle Earth in the First Age might have been like.

The Elves scattered as the Balrog lashed out. Its’ whip caught a table and flipped it over causing it to burst into flames. Sir Helcëtôr shouted something Logan couldn’t hear and light blasted from his outstretched hand striking the Balrog in the chest. Then something happened Logan would never forget. The creature laughed! The echo of its malevolent laughter resonated around the hall even as it struck with its whip and sword, killing the Elves closest to it.

Molly jumped forward and shouted something Logan couldn’t quite hear, and then his trident now shining like the sun blazed up throwing the shadows back. Without saying anything else he threw it at the Balrog. The beast of flame and darkness twisted using its sword to block the strike. And then it lashed out at Molly. Somehow he managed to summon another trident before the Balrog’s sword could strike home and blocked it. Light flared and the concussion knocked several Elves from their feet. Logan felt the power wash over her but it didn’t touch her, at the same time she felt her tattoo stir. Without thinking about it Logan reached for Melchiresa pulling the power into her.

Logan felt the world twist as her clothes burst under her expanding and changing flesh. Some instinct told Logan that she needed to do everything she could to defeat this opponent or the entire village would be nothing more than ashes by morning. The heady rush of power left Logan gasping as her flesh shifted and changed, and then it was over.

When Logan looked up most of the Elves had fled. Molly was fighting the Balrog only it wasn’t exactly Molly. He’d changed. He was now of a height with the Balrog and was the spitting image of the Spartan Warrior Logan had gotten tattooed onto his shoulder. Molly was using a shield and the glowing trident to fight the Balrog, and it looked like he was holding his own.

Then Logan stretched and for the first time was able to spread her wings to their full extent. Before Logan could help Molly nearly two dozen Orcs dropped through the boughs to land on the platform. Knowing she had to act quickly, before they could join the fight, Logan swept a clawed hand at those to her right. A gust of wind sprang into existence throwing half of the Orcs from the platform to send them tumbling and spinning to the ground several hundred feet below.

*At last, we fight!*

The gleeful shout from Melchiresa was something Logan didn’t have time to deal with right then. A few Elves led by Othon and Cainir were fighting the Orcs to her left so she didn’t dare use air to brush them from the platform. Then a bellow from the Balrog caused Logan to look back at the duel between the monster and Molly. The Balrog had dropped its whip and its arm hung useless to one side while Molly crouched behind his shield trident at the ready. Evidently he’d gotten through the creature’s defenses and wounded it.

“Thou dare raise thy hand against me, mortal? I shall drink thy blood and feast upon your soul!”

The creature’s voice was enough to cause several of the Elves present to fall to the floor covering their ears. However, Logan saw an opening and lifted her hand to point at the creature. A bar of intense white-hot flame shot out to strike the creature in the chest. It threw its head back and shrieked in an agony so intense that the world seemed to shudder around Logan.

Logan flapped her wings and, in the lesser gravity, this was all she needed to fly to Molly’s side. She landed lightly and glanced at Molly, “So, you’re not feeling anything weird from your tattoos?!”

“Okay, maybe Kratos has been talking to me. He didn’t want everyone to know about it. Sue me.”

“Who art thou to oppose me?”

The Balrog had climbed back to its feet and Logan knew that while it was hurt it wasn’t out of the fight yet.

“We are of no consequence.” Molly said, moving forward and to one side, away from Logan.

Suddenly Logan was aware that she was completely naked. ‘Um . . . clothes would be nice.’

*Of course.*

Suddenly Logan felt a corset, leather pants, and knee high boots materialize around her body. Then she lifted her right hand and felt the hilt of a Kris solidify while her left hand was writhed in a pentagram of flame.

“Thou art MAIAR!”

The Balrog’s shouted accusation resonated around the platform, and then it threw its’ sword at Molly. Before the sword struck Molly’s shield, it gestured at Logan and a spear of darkness shot toward her. Logan didn’t know what it was and twisted to avoid it. The darkness missed most of Logan but she hadn’t taken her wings into account and pain seared Logan’s mind as the darkness slashed a hole into the membrane of her left wing. Before either Molly or Logan could act, the Balrog threw itself from the platform, darkness swirled around it as it fell forming a giant set of wings. The Balrog soared to one side converting the speed of its descent into the energy it needed to glide away.

Logan snapped her wings and felt the wound tear further. Molly ran to the edge of the platform and hurled his trident at the receding monster. The Balrog sensed the attack and swerved at the last instant and even though it avoided the trident it slammed into a tree setting several branches aflame before tumbling the rest of the way to the ground below. With a shout Molly jumped from the platform and dropped to the ground.

“Son of a bitch!”

Logan rushed to the edge of the platform and looked down. Molly was already climbing to his feet apparently unharmed. With a deep breath she jumped from the platform. Her wings scooped the air and Logan felt the tear get bigger and then she reached out to the air, somehow knowing how manipulate it. The pressure on her wings eased to the point where Logan thought she could fold them and she still wouldn’t fall. By the time she touched down Logan saw that the Balrog was on its feet and attempting to run. Molly had been faster and caught it. The Balrog was a being of black-flame and darkness and Molly shone golden and crimson against the shadow. It was almost as if Molly’s bright power fought the shadow just as the two fought. Dark fire blasted toward Molly and Logan felt the flame within her mind and reached out for it.

“So you like to play with fire do you?” Logan snarled, and spun her hand. The flame strike was deflected up before it touched Molly and spun around in a tight circle before it smashed back down into the Balrog. The creature threw back its head and screamed, again, and the tree next to it burst into flame. Then panting the Balrog glared at Molly and Logan.

“Tell me your names, Maiar, that I might know the identity of the ones who will end Gorlung.”

“Names have power Gorlung, but you may call me Sornohen, and this is my friend Ilcaúrna.”

“A small courtesy, that, for thou art not Elves. The spirit within you comes from beyond Arda.”

Suddenly a horn sounded, followed by another, and another. The Elves of Lindornëa were organizing and counter attacking. A set of shrill bugles and whistles responded and the shouts of battled drifted forward. The Orcs were pressing forward, yet even though the village had been caught by surprise it was responding rapidly to the threat.

“Ha! Fly while you can, fools, your doom is upon you!” Gorlung shouted with glee. “My Lord, Gothmog, Captain of Angband, approaches!”

Then the ground shook and leaves fell upon them like rain. Logan sensed more than heard the heavy sound of approaching footsteps. Then her sight was swept away as a vision gripped her mind. In the distance she saw a Balrog, and another, and another, they were all attacking the edge of the village and the Elves were falling before them in an effort to slow down the attack. Then Logan’s sight focused in on the Balrog leading the attack. This Balrog was half again taller than the rest and as he moved through the forest the trees shuddered and burst into flame.

“DIE!”

Molly’s shout brought Logan back to herself in time to see him throw his trident at Gorlung. Even as the glowing trident flashed through the air Molly pulled out his Gladius and raced toward the injured Balrog. Gorlung tried to get his good arm up to catch the trident but he was too slow. The weapon hit him in the chest and there was a clap like thunder, and Gorlung was thrown back pinned to a tree by the trident. Then Molly struck, his sword came down in a short overhand chop the clove Gorlung’s head in two.

For a second it felt like reality twisted and the very fabric of the world groaned, then Gorlung burst into a blue-white flame burning to ash in an instant. As the ashes fell to the ground Logan felt as though a great shadow had departed and her heart soared. Then the shouts from the approaching Balrogs rang out.

“Do you think they sensed Gorlung’s death?”

“I don’t think we should stick around to find out.” Logan pointed, “Gothmog is still at the edge of the village, we should try to find Sir Helcëtôr and figure out what they are doing to defend the village.”

Molly looked at Logan in surprise, “You can see Gothmog?”

“Yeah, why?”

Molly shrugged, “I can sense the approach of something terrifying but I can’t see anything yet.”

Logan paused to consider, “There are six Balrogs and Gothmog. Gothmog is much taller and stronger looking than the rest of the Balrogs. He’s taller than you as well. I can see them when I focus, but not with my eyes, if that makes sense.”

Molly gulped, “Six? Shit. Okay let’s link up with the rest of the village’s defenders and see what we can organize.”

Just then a shout drew Molly and Logan’s attention. Standing on one of the tree bridges a dozen yards away was Cainir waving at them.

“My Lord Sornohen, my Lady Ilcaúrna, come. Sir Helcëtôr is in need of you.”

Logan found a scabbard at her side and sheathed her Kris and caused the fire surrounding her left wrist to go out and then leapt into the night, using the air to lift her up to the rope bridge without using her injured wing. A second later Molly landed behind her.

“Lead the way good Cainir.”

The Elf took off moving with the speed and grace of an Elven Ranger. Molly and Logan found that it was easy to keep up. In short order they arrived at a building set partly upon the ground and partly within a large tree. The building was lit by dozens of glowing crystals and Elves in every state of dress, from partly clothed to fully armed and armored, rushed around. Before Cainir could lead them into the hive of activity Logan laid a clawed hand on his shoulder stopping him.

“Cainir, what news of Othon and Narmartë?”

“Othon died on the end of an Orc spear. I avenged him, may the light of Illúvatar shine on him forever.”

For the first time Logan realized that Cainir was splattered in black Orc blood and his face was bruised.

“As for Narmartë, she fled under the cover of Sir Helcëtôr’s spell. I expect she’s been assigned one of the most challenging jobs defending this village. Now come.”

Cainir lead them into the large open room Sir Helcëtôr was using and paused for a moment to let Logan and Molly take in the scene. The headquarters reminded Logan of a Tactical Operations Center (TOC) only the Elves were using enchanted mirrors as monitors, and spell-sung stones to communicate with the counter attacking forces. It only took a glance to see that Sir Helcëtôr had his hands full. He was fighting a defensive battle as he tried to buy time for the villagers to escape. Then he turned and spotted Molly and Logan and his eyes widened.

It was only a quick look and then he returned to issuing orders but Logan knew they’d been spotted and it would only be a few minutes before Sir Helcëtôr spoke with them. While they waited Logan noticed that the Elves were giving the three of them a wide berth. It wasn’t like they were afraid of them, which surprised Logan a little since she looked like a demon at the moment, but more out of awe and respect. Then Logan sensed Sir Helcëtôr’s approach and turned to face him. Sir Helcëtôr nodded to Molly and then to Logan.

“Thank you. Your defeat of Gorlung blunted the initial attack. The dark one’s forces had intended to slay Lindornëa’s leaders with a decapitation strike. Thus leaderless the defenders would have been unorganized and easy prey to the attacking forces.”

“What of Gothmog? He’s leading the attack, and unless I misunderstood my vision, they will be here soon.”

Sir Helcëtôr looked over at Logan and regarded her for a moment without any expression and then sighed, “My lady, I do not know why you chose a form like and yet unlike the servants of Morgoth, but I will not question one of the Maiar.” Sir Helcëtôr shook his head, “I’ve organized a counter strike. We will allow Gothmog to push forward, ahead of the rest of his forces and then we will hit him with the most formidable of our defenders.”

Suddenly a shout when up from the middle of the command center and Sir Helcëtôr hurried over to a large mirror. The mirror showed a narrow gully leading away from the village. The gully was full of Elven women and children but they’d stopped moving. At the far end of the gully a force of Orcs had taken the high ground and the fleeing Elves had stopped beyond arrow range. A troop of Elves lead by Narmartë was attempting to dislodge the Orcs. But a Balrog had moved forward. Narmartë and the beast were trading spells but she was being driven back.

“Damnation!” An Elf with a set of wings sweeping up from his silver helm, said and then looked at Sir Helcëtôr. “How did they know about the escape route?”

“It matters naught. Do we have a squad that can relieve them?”

“Nay, milord. All our forces are committed to slowing the attack and trapping Gothmog.”

With that Sir Helcëtôr looked at another mirror. Gothmog was now out ahead of the rest of the attackers charging through the trees. Elven warriors fled before him pausing once in a while to fire an enchanted arrow before resuming their flight. Another mirror showed a force of mounted Elves with tall helms, and the barding of Knights, waiting in a dark grove, impatient for battle.

“I must stop Gothmog or all is lost.” Sir Helcëtôr looked at the Elf in the winged helm, “Pray to Illúvatar that Captain Narmartë can overcome that beast.” Then he turned and looked at Logan and Molly, “I would be honored if you would both stand by me and face Gothmog.”

Before Molly could respond Logan said, “Perhaps there is a way to save the villagers.”

Sir Helcëtôr shook his head, “I don’t see how. Our first priority is stopping Gothmog. But even if I wanted to, I don’t have a force I can send that will reach them in time.”

Logan stretched her wings noting that the tear had healed, “I can get there in time.” Then she turned to Molly, “Go with Sir Helcëtôr and kill Gothmog. I’ll fly out and help Narmartë.”

“Let it be done.” Sir Helcëtôr said.

Molly looked a little worried but nodded and said in English, “Take care of yourself, I’ll never forgive you if you get yourself killed.”

Logan nodded and spun around to race out of the building. She cast her mind into the ether and felt Narmartë’s psychic presence. She was several miles away to the north. Logan spread her wings and summoned the wind. A gust lifted her into the air and her vision shifted so that it was as easy for her to see in the dark as in the daylight. Knowing she didn’t have much time Logan summoned more and more wind until all she could hear was the whistling rush of air as she shot above the trees.

As Logan soared through the night air she looked down spotting pockets of fighting as the Elves desperately sought to slow the onslaught. Her vision, a blessing a few minutes earlier, was now a curse as she saw a squad of Elves cut down by a troop of Orcs. For a second she was tempted to drop down and help, but she knew that if she did the refugees would die. The flight only took a few more seconds and then Logan could see the gully between the trees and dove toward the fight.

Narmartë and been forced back and the Orcs were advancing along the high ground already ranging in on the trapped Elves, and their deadly bolts were beginning to strike home. Then with the sound of a hurricane Logan swooped over the advancing Orcs. She drew her Kris and pointed it at the Orcs below. Logan felt the metal within the blade and then she sensed the metal below respond. The Orcs shrieked as every knife, spear, sword, and arrowhead twisted becoming useless. But the spell didn’t stop there; helms twisted and contracted crushing the skulls within, breast plates collapsed as though struck by a giant hammer as Logan soared over the Orcs.

‘Did I do that?’ Logan wondered, already knowing the answer.

*We are the mistress of air, fire, and metal. Twisting it to suit our purposes is child’s play.* Melchiresa responded.

Then she was past them turning in a tight circle Logan landed between the Balrog and Narmartë. As she landed she flared her wings and sent a gust of air out that knocked both Narmartë and the Balrog off their feet. Logan lifted her hand and saw that it was once again wreathed in blue-white fire.

“Ardebit!” Logan shouted and pointed her hand at the Balrog. A bar of tightly controlled blue-white flame shot out. But the Balrog was quick and dove to one side. The creature came to its feet and threw something toward Logan. This time Logan felt Melchiresa wanting to do something and allowed her to guide them. The dozen darts of darkness struck a field of hardened air exploding in a series of detonations.

Logan took a quick glance at Narmartë who was slowly climbing to her feet. Her side was drenched with blood but she had a grim look of determination on her face. Then Logan felt the field of hardened air collapse under a blow from the black blade wielded by the Balrog. Logan lashed out with the Kris and to her surprise she realized that the blade had grown from its normal foot long length to over three feet. The Balrog was as fast as a serpent and blocked her strike causing a shock from the impact to run up her arm.

The Balrog spun in an impossibly fast circle lashing out with a backhand strike at Logan. Logan tried to duck but somehow knew she wasn’t going to be quick enough and then the black blade twisted missing Logan by inches. Logan lunged forward driving her Kris into the Balrog’s shoulder and when she ripped her blade free she mentally tugged on the blade in the Balrog’s hand. With its shoulder ruined the beast couldn’t maintain a tight grip on its black sword and it tumbled away.

“Maiar Bitch! I will take thee to the abyss with me!”

With that the Balrog lunged forward grabbing Logan around the throat with its uninjured hand. Logan drove her Kris into the Balrog’s gut but the creature of flame and darkness ignored it. Logan twisted the blade and tried to pull it up and gut the Balrog but she felt her vision grow dim. Then she was falling back and for a second she was confused. The clawed hand was still at her throat but it had no strength and then she realized it had been severed at the wrist.

Narmartë stood over the Balrog her armor now blazing silver white and even though her side was drenched with blood she looked determined. She swung her sword, covered in black gore, at the Balrog’s neck. Even though its’ arm had been severed the monster wasn’t done. It spoke a word of power that twisted upon the night air and Narmartë was thrown back before her blow could strike home. The distraction was all that Logan had needed, she held out her flaming left hand and white hot fire lashed out. This time the Balrog was too slow to avoid the strike. The fire hit the creature in the chest and its own unnatural black flame blazed up as if trying to convert the white flame to its purpose.

Suddenly Logan felt the dark will of the Balrog forcing her fire to change. Logan instinctively knew what to do and threw her will against the Balrog, ordering the white fire to consume the monster. For a long moment they were evenly matched and then Melchiresa added her will to Logan’s. The Balrog’s will collapsed under their combined assault and the white fire blazed up in a pillar of flame almost twenty feet high. Both Logan and Narmartë stumbled back and Narmartë covered her ears to shut off the dyeing screams of the servant of Morgoth. Once again Logan felt the world around them shudder as a dark shadow departed.

Logan looked around and saw that the Orcs that had held the high ground to either side of the gully had fled. When she glanced at the Elves they were looking at her with awe in their eyes.

“Come, we dare not tarry. The forces of Morgoth are attacking Lindornëa in numbers too great for us to defeat.” Logan said. She then looked at Narmartë who now that the fight had ended had sunk to her knees. Logan hurried to her side. The blow from the Balrog had cut through her armor and left a deep wound in her side. Logan had seen worse on the battlefield after an IED but the wounded soldier had died before they’d been able to medevac him.

‘Is there anything we can do?’ Logan thought.

*Yes, but you’ll have to give me control.*

‘Fine.’

Logan felt Melchiresa surge forward and she knew that she needed to sort of let go. Logan felt her eyes blink and then she knelt next to Narmartë. It was the oddest thing, to be a passenger in your own body, yet she somehow knew if she wanted to she could have taken control.

*Watch closely.*

Melchiresa sheathed the Kris and then reached down to cover the wound with her right hand. Then with her left hand, now devoid of the flaming pentagram, she touched Narmartë’s forehead.

“Et Totum!”

Logan could feel a surge of power come from within her and move through her hands into Narmartë. As it did she could sense Narmartë’s body in a new way, she could feel the pain of Narmartë’s wounds, an angry red wrongness within her body. Logan felt Melchiresa send her energy at the wrongness soothing it, nudging it, changing it from the angry red to the soothing blue that was Narmartë’s natural aura.

*There,* there was a satisfied tone in Melchiresa’s voice. *All done.*

Then Logan felt Melchiresa’s control fade and she stood up and looked around. Somehow Logan knew that only a few seconds had passed.

“Will she live, Great-One?”

The Elven woman had a small child strapped to her front and a large pack on her back, yet her face showed that she was concerned for Narmartë.

“Yes, but she must rest. Much of the energy for the healing came from her, and using the song as much as she has this night has further exhausted her.” The words came out of Logan’s mouth but she knew they were from Melchiresa. Then she heard Melchiresa’s voice in her mind, *I have used much of my power this night as well and must rest.* Then her awareness of Melchiresa faded.

Logan felt tired, exhausted mentally and physically and then her body shifted. She felt herself shrinking her wings and horns disappearing and then she was standing next to the Elven woman in her human form. Logan was a little surprised to note that she was still wearing the clothes Melchiresa had summoned. She heard a faint giggle in the back of her mind, *I can’t have you running around naked* and then Melchiresa’s presence was gone.

Tired as she was Logan reached down and picked Narmartë up. “Thank goodness for lower gravity,” she said in English and then looked over at the Elven woman.

“You will have to lead, I don’t know the way.”

“It will be my honor Lady Ilcaúrna.”

Molly watched as Logan disappeared into the night sky. There was a part of his brain that noticed the delectable female curves and wanted to pursue her. Logan felt a twitching on his back and pushed back, willing Boreas to be still.

“Come, friend Sornohen, we must travel quickly if we are to stop Gothmog.” Sir Helcëtôr said.

Molly turned to the tall Elven warrior, noting how his armor glowed softly in the night. Tall as he was Molly stood head and shoulders taller and he could feel raw masculine power coursing through his veins. Kratos, growled wordlessly in the back of his mind, urging him to battle.

“Lead on, Sir Helcëtôr, for it is a beautiful night for battle.”

The tall Elf set out at a swift run and when he saw that Molly had no trouble keeping up increased his pace. As they ran Elfish warriors seemed to materialize around them. Before they’d gone more than half a mile they had collected two score warriors.

“What do you know of the Balrog Gothmog?” Helcëtôr’s question caught Molly off guard.

“Nothing, other than that he is the Balrog Captain leading this assault and must die.”

At this Sir Helcëtôr gave Molly a strange look. “As a Maiar, I don’t have to tell you that the Balrog’s are Maiar who followed Morgoth into the shadow. Gothmog is chief among them. He slew Fëanor and all of the Noldor owe him for that ill deed. His strength is more than we can stand against alone, your coming gives us hope this night.”

Abruptly Sir Helcëtôr slowed and they entered a grove. At the far end stood at least twenty knights along with the finest horses Molly had ever seen. As a young girl she’d had a fondness for horses and that had turned into years of riding lessons. These horses were beyond anything Molly had ever seen, taller with cleaner lines, they were built for speed and power and she knew that if she could take a few with her back to Earth they’d be worth millions in stud fees alone.

Sir Helcëtôr moved to a great pale horse and climbed into the saddle accepting a long silver lance from one of the warriors who’d been waiting in the grove. He turned to Molly, “Sornohen, there is a path, a dozen yards in that direction.” Sir Helcëtôr pointed to Molly’s left with his lance. “Gothmog is moving down it as it leads to the heart of Lindornëa. The trees are now filled with our best archers and spell-singers. They will keep the trees from flaming and will use their power to suppress Gothmog. When the horn sounds I will lead my knights in a charge. If Illúvatar is with us, this will be enough to end the Lord of the Balrogs. I ask that you follow behind me and my knights and do what you think best.” Then he glanced at the warriors who’d followed from the command center, “These brave souls will cover our retreat should that become necessary.”

Molly nodded but he could feel that Kratos wasn’t happy with this arrangement.

*We should lead the charge. These Calaquendi have the heart for battle but in this fight they lack the strength.*

The first time Kratos had spoken to Molly he thought he was going crazy. Now the voice of the gruff warrior was a comforting presence within his mind.

‘If we lead the charge we’ll be between them and Gothmog. They will be forced to slow down and try to come at the Balrog from the sides. The strength of the charge is in the speed and weight of the horse and warrior striking together. It is best to let them make their strike first.’

Molly could feel that Kratos wasn’t happy with the answer but he understood the logic and said nothing. Molly focused on summoning another trident and made sure he was ready to play his part. After a few seconds of waiting Molly felt the ground tremble and knew the mighty Balrog was approaching.

“What of the other Balrogs?” Molly asked. “Even if Gothmog is slain, they will press the assault, will they not?”

Sir Helcëtôr had been looking toward the approaching Lord of Balrogs and glanced at Molly. His face was pale and Molly knew that the approaching creature was having an effect on the waiting Elves.

“Yea, verily, the attack will continue. But the force of it will be blunted. The other Balrogs will wonder how Gothmog could have been slain and will pull back, at least for a short time. That time is precious for it will allow our evacuation to succeed.” While Sir Helcëtôr was speaking the fear in his eyes receded but Molly somehow sensed this wasn’t enough. Something in Molly made him turn to face the gathered Elves.

“Hear me, O Warriors of Nevrast!” The words flowed from Molly but he could sense Kratos and rather than suppress him Molly allowed him to continue speaking, “Fear, fire, and red-handed foes approach. A host of fell creatures with the power of the Enemy of Light within each breast is upon us. This is a red night, for tonight blood will be spilled, tonight we will take the light of our righteous anger and cast it as defiance against the forces of the night.” As he spoke Molly found his voice growing louder and louder, and as it did it took on a strange quality. Every eye in the clearing was now upon him and for a moment he wondered what it was they expected.

“Rejoice, for thou art the chosen warriors of Nevrast! Noldor or Sindar, it matters not. For to us, good fortune has granted the chief task, we few, of all those who face battle this night shall face the sternest test.”

At this Molly could sense an indrawn breath as if the warriors around him were waiting on his next words, like a man dying of thirst in the desert waits for that one sip of water that will save him.

“I say to you REJOICE my brothers and sisters of the sword! For tonight is a beautiful night! Tonight we will put an end to Gothmog and avenge the House of Fëanor!”

At this the Elves shouted and banged their swords against their shields drowning out the sound of the approaching Balrog. The noise was such that the call of the silver horn almost went unnoticed. Sir Helcëtôr lifted his hand and for a moment no one seemed to notice. Then he stood up in the stirrups and gestured with his lance before setting his horse into motion. Upon seeing their Commander move the rest of the Elven Knights followed and Molly set out at a loping run behind them. They were through the trees and onto the road in a matter of seconds.

The road was clear and straight, bitter clouds of black smoke blotted out the moon’s light, but the light was unnecessary. Moving down the road on cloven hooves a Balrog almost fifteen feet tall strode. It carried a red-flaming sword in one hand and a great iron ball shaped like a closed fist, attached to its wrist by a black chain, in the other. The iron fist had been rough forged with sigils of the blackest power stamped into each knuckle. Molly could see the red hate-filled glow of those sigils from where he was and knew this was an ancient power. For a moment he stumbled but then Kratos fierce spirit surged forward and Molly picked up his pace readying himself.

Then Sir Helcëtôr lifted a silver bugle to his lips and blew a mighty blast of the purest sound Molly had ever heard. For an instant he had a vision of an ice filled plain and a host of Elves locked in battle with Ice-Beasts of the far North. Then the vision vanished and arrows flew from the trees around Gothmog. Each arrow glowed with Elven-magic as it darted toward the Balrog. Yet the darkness swirled around him and the arrows vanished in that ill-fog doing no harm to Angband’s Captain. Spell fire fell upon Gothmog only to vanish before touching him and then he swung his mighty ball and chain in a great circle.

The sound of the Fist of Angband as it tore through the air was like a thousand fingernails on a thousand chalk boards and then it smashed through the base of a giant tree. The tree burst into flame and toppled taking the Elfish archers with it while setting the trees next to it aflame. Gothmog swung again this time to his left smashing through another tree with the same result. By the screams of the dying Elfish archers and spell-singers Molly knew a steep price had been paid.

Sir Helcëtôr was in front of the charging Knights. They had fallen into a wedge formation with Sir Helcëtôr the point of the wedge. Lances were set as the Knights raced forward their hooves sounded like thunder. As fast as the Knights were, none were as swift as Sir Helcëtôr and he soon separated himself from his fellows by several horse lengths. Molly had been running behind the Knights and now using all the momentum of his charge he hurled his trident. It flashed through the air and struck Gothmog just as he turned. The thunder clap of the strike momentarily stunned Gothmog and Sir Helcëtôr took full advantage. Gothmog hadn’t anticipated the speed of Sir Helcëtôr’s charge and then the distraction of Molly’s blow left him open.

Sir Helcëtôr drove his lance into the heart of the darkness with a flash of silver light and then swerved to the right ducking low in the saddle to avoid Gothmog’s counter stroke with his flaming sword. There was an inhuman bellow and Molly couldn’t tell if it was pain or rage. Then Gothmog swung the Fist of Angband on its chain at the charging Knights blasting through the formation like a bowling-ball striking pins, killing half of them with a single blow. The courage of the Noldor was in full form as the remaining Knights drove their shining lances into Gothmog. The Lord of Balrogs appeared to be unfazed and managed to kill a pair of Knights with his sword and then those that had survived were past him turning and drawing swords.

Now there was nothing between Molly and Gothmog and he summoned another trident putting all the might he could into an over hand thrust. Tall as he was Molly realized that Gothmog was taller, if only by a foot, and he wouldn’t be as easy to kill as Gorlung. Gothmog might have been wounded and in pain from the damage of the Knights attack, but if he was Molly couldn’t tell as he blocked the trident with his sword and swung the Fist at Molly. Molly knew if that thing hit his shield it would destroy it and probably break his arm so he leapt back. As soon as the Fist was past Molly struck again and Gothmog didn’t have time to get his sword around. Molly felt his trident strike home against the armor Gothmog wore and the black iron of Angband was equal to the test turning the trident aside. Then Gothmog struck with his sword and the weight of the blow to Molly’s shield left his arm feeling numb.

“Tell me thy name Maiar that I might know the identity of the fool who comes against me!”

The language wasn’t English or Elven yet Molly knew what the words meant. It was as if Kratos translated for him. Molly opened his mouth and answered in the same tongue.

“To the abyss with thee Gothmog!” Molly shouted and then lunged forward fainting a high line attack before striking at Gothmog’s leg. This time he felt the trident bite through the thinner armor on Gothmog’s thigh. “Die in ignorance!”

Gothmog’s shriek of pain and anger caused the trees around them to burst into flame and he whipped the Fist of Angband up and down trying to smash Molly flat with it. Molly stepped to one side just as the remaining Knights led by Sir Helcëtôr rode by with bright swords flashing like silver darts in the night. Gothmog distracted by his battle with Molly hadn’t sensed the Knights approach but he reacted faster than Molly would have thought possible. A backhanded strike with his blade killed another Knight and then he spun around swinging the Fist of Angband to the full length of its chain. Almost as if watching in slow motion Molly saw the mighty iron ball come around striking Sir Helcëtôr and his warhorse in the side smashing through them.

“Noooo!”

The thunder of Molly’s cry echoed through the forest and he threw his trident and pulled his Gladius before charging forward. Somehow Gothmog managed to block the trident and then Molly was on him. Molly smashed his shield into Gothmog knocking him back and drove his sword forward into the black iron breastplate. The foul enchantments on that armor held for an instant and then Molly’s sword was through. Now it was Gothmog’s turn to scream as he stumbled back. For the first time since the fight began Molly sensed fear in Gothmog so he pressed his advantage calling on all the power Kratos could give him. Gothmog blocked Molly’s second thrust with his sword and then Molly chopped down on the wrist holding the Iron Fist of Angband. There was a flash as Gothmog’s iron gauntlet resisted the power of the blow and then it gave.

Molly spun away and felt a flash of fire in his side as Gothmog struck with his sword. Molly’s armor turned most of the force of the blow and even though the cut was painful Molly knew it wasn’t bad. Gothmog’s scream was filled with anger, pain, and fear. He stumbled back, the black stump of his left arm pumped fiery-blood into the night and Molly knew that now was the time to end this fight, when out of the darkness another Balrog immerged. This Balrog was closely followed by a second and then Orcs were swarming forward.

The Elves who had survived made a good accounting as they fired arrows and spells at the attacking Orcs slowing the tide. Then the Elfish reserve formed up in a battle line to protect the line of retreat. For a moment Molly considered taking the battle forward against Gothmog. The Captain of Angband was severely wounded and now was the time to finish him. Then one of the new Balrogs shouted and threw a spear at Molly. Molly lifted his shield and it shivered under the force of the blow.

“Fall back, fall back, everyone!”

Molly’s shouted command was obeyed by the Elves on the battlefield. Surprisingly the forces of Morgoth didn’t press their advantage. Molly sheathed his sword and picked up the shattered body of Sir Helcëtôr, with tears running freely down his face, he raced into the smoke filled night.

Author Note:

1: This story is based on the Altered Fates Universe concept established by Jennifer Adams, however I’ve taken some artistic liberties so this story doesn’t strictly adhere to the rules Jennifer established.

2: This is also a fanfic of the J.R.R. Tolkien world of Middle Earth in an untold tale of the First Age. Please note; I didn’t stay completely true to the Middle Earth that Tolkien set up. This is my take on what Middle Earth in the First Age might have been like.

Beams of blood red sunlight streamed through the tree branches giving the smoke filled air a dappled crimson caste. Molly looked over his shoulder at the Elfish warriors who’d survived the night and felt a quick stab of pain from his wounded side. Of the warriors who’d participated in the ambush of Gothmog scarcely three score remained. Twice during the retreat they’d had to turn and repulse the pursuing Orc Warbands. The first time the Orcs had been led by another Balrog. Molly had fought him to a stalemate and both had taken wounds before he’d been able to pull the Elves back. The second time they’d been caught the absences of a Balrog had enabled them to punish the Orcs before fleeing further into the forest. At that point Kratos had indicated that he needed a rest and had retreated within Molly’s mind. When this happened Molly felt his body shrinking back to his normal size yet somehow the armor and weapons remained. In a parting thought Kratos had told Molly to use them well.

It had been several hours since that last skirmish and Molly lifted his hand signaling a halt. The Elves carrying Sir Helcëtôr’s body laid it by a tree, reverent even in their exhaustion. Cainir moved up next to Molly, his quiver was empty but he’d kept his bow, now strapped to his back. His sword was currently sheathed and he was leaning on a spear he’d picked up at some point during the fighting.

“Sornohen, with the coming of dawn the host of Angband will rest.”

Molly nodded, “Yes, but we will not. Pass the word, Cainir, thirty minutes and then we move. Now that we’ve broken contact with our enemies we must slip away.” Cainir gave a quick salute and started to turn away before Molly stopped him. “Oh, one more thing. See if we have any officers among the survivors. I need to hold a quick meeting to determine our next move.”

Molly looked around at the Elves sprawled on the ground. There was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to sit down and rest. Yet the part that he’d inherited from Logan told him that he shouldn’t. With Sir Helcëtôr dead the Elves were depending on him to lead them. With a quiet sigh he moved toward a group of warriors.

“Thanradon,” Molly said spotting one of the Knights who’d ridden with Sir Helcëtôr resting with his back against a tree. “Glad am I to see that you’ve got the strength to hold up that tree.”

The Elf chuckled, his helm was gone and his face showed some serious bruising. “Aye, my Lord, the poor thing, it looked in need of a good bracing.”

The Elves around him laughed at his joke. Then one with short dark hair, a rare feature among the fair haired Elves, spoke up, “My Lord, Sornohen, what’s next? Will we give them the slip and take the hidden path to Ondolindë?”

Molly put a large hand on the warrior’s shoulder, “What and deprive the forest of more Orc blood?” This time there was more laughter and chorus of responses.

“Nay!”

“Now that would be a shame.”

“Aye, the trees enjoy a tasty bit of Orc.”

With that Molly moved on to another group of warriors and spotted a face he thought looked familiar. A grizzled, older Elf, with short hair and skin that looked like dried leather was standing by another knot of warriors leaning on his spear. Molly had seen him several times during the fighting and had even fought shoulder to shoulder with him at one point. He was the only one still standing and he’d been watching Molly as he spoke to the previous group. Even though he wasn’t facing Molly directly he followed Molly’s approach with his eyes.

Molly allowed a chuckle to fill his voice as he spoke. “Ho, Alion, I see that you managed to cheat death yet again. I thought after that last skirmish you’d found your way into an Orc cooking pot.”

The veteran spat to one side, “Naw, my Lord Sornohen, I offered to climb in if it meant I didn’t have to do any more walking but they threw me back. I guess I’m too old and chewy for these soft, younger, Orcs.”

There was a round of laughter and a couple of comments about this newer generation of “soft” Orcs. Molly let the laughter run out before he turned to Alion, “Come walk with me a moment Alion.”

The old solider moved forward and Molly noted despite what he’d said he was one of the few warriors who didn’t appear exhausted and although he’d been in the thick of the fighting he wasn’t injured. The two walked in silence until they were far enough away from the others to not be over heard.

“We’re in need of every leader this band has. What is your rank?”

Again, Alion spat to one side, “If yer, Lordship is thinking I’m some officer he can look elsewhere. I’m a sergeant, the First Spear of the Lindornëa scouts, or what’s left of them.”

“I’ll need an acting Sergeant Major.” At Alion’s confused look Molly realized he’d used an English word, “A First Spear. If we’re going to get this done I’ll need your help.”

At this Alion grunted, “And what would yer Captain-ship be wanting to get done?”

“I mean to organize this troop and then rally the surviving fighters. By nightfall I hope to have enough of a force to hold our own if we need to.”

“To what end?”

“I don’t know what the dark one’s plans are, but I’ve got a feeling that the attack on Lindornëa isn’t the sum of it.” Molly pointed to the east. “I suspect there are other villages out there, villages that suffered the same fate as Lindornëa, based on the rising smoke.”

Now Alion looked around squinting and then looked back at Molly, “You are well named Captain Sornohen. Aye,” then Alion gave Molly a hard look. “I saw what you were doing, just now, I’ve never met a Maiar before, but you’re a leader. Without you we wouldn’t have survived the night. I saw you’re duel with Gothmog, I’m with you.” Then he added with a grin, “Until I do find my way into an Orc cook pot.”

Just then Cainir approached, limping to his left was a tall blonde Elf whose name escaped Molly at the moment but he remembered the Elf from fighting Gothmog. In fact Molly was pretty sure he’d been one of the knights to have his horse killed by that damn iron ball. On Cainir’s other side walked a female Elf with a bow in her hands and a pair of sword hilts sticking up over her shoulders. ‘Probably one of the Archers who tried to pincushion Gothmog.’ Molly thought.

“My Lord, this is Sir Nenthal,” Cainir said indicating the tall Knight and then he gestured to the archer. “And this is Tanna Greenleaf, Master Archer, and leader of the Lindornëa Archers.”

“Leader of a broken troop isn’t much of a title, I’m just Tanna.”

Molly looked at the woman and saw that she was bruised and singed and had obviously seen some hard fighting. Yet despite it all she was attractive in an athletic sort of way. Molly felt a strange twitch in her groin and tried to ignore it.

“Alright then, let us be about this. While the light is with us we need to gather all the surviving fighters. Share out food and water as we can, rest and tend to the wounded as we’re able, but we must move. By nightfall we must be in position to strike the dark ones. The attack on Lindornëa wasn’t an isolated assault. All of Nevrast is under attack and if we’re to survive we must move quickly. Those unable to continue must be taken by the hidden way to Ondolindë.” Molly looked around at the grim faced Elves, “Are you with me.”

The chorus of “Ayes” was all Molly needed to hear. “Last night might have been a defeat, but I plan to make this campaign a costly one. We’ll set the toll so high that the host of Angband will groan under the strain.”

The bend in the swift flowing stream had obviously shifted over the years leaving behind a large flat. On either side of the river were towering bluffs and then in the distance rising in a series of steep jagged ridges were the mountainous Logan had spotted before. The raw beauty of the land was impressive enough but more importantly the terrain provided a natural screening and for the first time since the attack began Logan felt safe. On the flat itself another group of refugees had already set up a camp. There were shouts of greeting from the refugees when they spotted Narmartë and Logan’s group.

During his time in the military Logan had lived and worked in some of the most war torn parts of the world. One of the things he’d learned was that all refugee camps have at least one thing in common, misery. Whatever events caused people to become displaced, they always left the survivors in a state where survival was the most important factor. People often rose above those circumstances to build new lives but all too often they failed and became victims of those who prey on the weak.

As Logan followed Narmartë through the camp she realized that the one universal truth about refugee camps was missing here. The Elves didn’t look happy, but they appeared, clean, fed, and well organized. The sense of despair and misery Logan normally felt was missing. Logan sensed Narmartë stopping.

Standing in front of them blocking their path was a tall noble looking female Elf. She wore the green and brown colors of a forester and had one of the Elven long bows over her shoulder.

“Greetings, I am Ervanya Talelon, are you the leader of this group?”

“Well-met, Ervanya, I’m Narmartë Thlim Ith Mindon. These,” here she waved a hand at the bedraggled group behind us, “are the survivors of the attack on Lindornëa.”

The news caused a stirring in the crowd around them. “You bring ill tidings Lady Narmartë. We had hoped that the attack on Ilcanalta was the main thrust of the enemy.” Then Ervanya shook her head, “Come, I forget myself, let me escort you to our Captain.”

“What of my folk?”

“We will see to their needs as best we can.”

“Thank you.”

Ervanya led Logan and Narmartë through the camp to a pavilion of green and gold set in the middle of the flat. As they moved forward the first rays of dawn fell upon the camp and as it did Logan could hear the calls of greeting as the Elves of Ilcanalta rose to meet their cousins from Lindornëa. Logan glanced over at Narmartë, who’d recovered a few hours ago and then shortly thereafter insisted on walking, “What do you make of this?”

“Two villages sacked in one night?” Narmartë shook her head, “This is no raid. I fear it is the opening moves of a campaign against Nevrast.” She gestured around her and added in a lower voice, “Based on this, and the number of Balrogs we faced last night, I’d say that Angband has sent a host into Nevrast for one purpose. The Dark One must have decided to destroy us.”

By this time they’d made their way to the entrance of the pavilion. A pair of guards were positioned in front of the tent, one recognized Narmartë and saluted, “Captain, give me a moment to announce you.”

With that he ducked into the tent. Ervanya turned to Logan and Narmartë, “I will take my leave of you my lady.”

Narmartë nodded farewell. A few minutes later the tent flap was thrown back and a tall blonde Elven Knight stepped out. He was wearing golden armor with a red tabard over it.

“Greeting’s Captain Narmartë, I’m Sir Ronir Thlim Climbol, Captain of the Ilcanalta Guards. Or what’s left of us.”

Sir Ronir’s voice was a musical baritone and even though he was obviously exhausted, Logan couldn’t help noticing the air of vitality around him. For the first time since becoming Molly’s twin Logan felt small as she looked up at the tall Elf and abruptly wondered what it would feel like to run her hands over his broad shoulders. For a moment Logan considered transforming back into her Melchiresa form, she suspected that she would be taller than the knight, but then she dismissed the idea.

“Greeting’s Ronir, I’d say well-met except for the ill circumstances that have befallen us.”

The Knight nodded, “Please come in, I’d offer you a cup of wine but all I have at the moment is water.”

With that he moved to the side holding the tent flap open. Narmartë moved into the tent followed by Logan. The tent wasn’t large, in fact it was barely large enough for the table that dominated the center and the cot to one side. Around the table were half a dozen chairs and on the table a large map had been spread. Resting next to the map was a mirror in a rune covered stand and it was obvious to Logan that it was a mirror that had been used in a similar fashion as the mirrors in the operations center in Lindornëa.

Sir Ronir moved to a small stand next to the cot and Logan noticed a pitcher with several glasses. He quickly poured water into two glasses and handed them to Logan and Narmartë. Then he gave Logan an appraising look, “Might I have the honor of knowing your name, my lady? You are the first of the Atan that I’ve met.”

“I’m called Ilcaúrna, and I’m pleased to meet you.”

If Ronir was surprised that Logan had given him an Elfish name he didn’t show it. Instead he scooped up Logan’s delicate fingers and kissed them. Logan felt her heart race and wanted to snatch her hand back, but for some reason she didn’t. From the back of her mind Logan felt Melchiresa stir.

*Hmmmm, he’s yummy, can we have him?*

‘Quiet!’ Logan thought at Melchiresa embarrassed by her reaction to the handsome warrior.

Narmartë cleared her throat, “Ronir, what happened to Ilcanalta? How is it that you’re here instead of fighting the forces of Angband?”

Ronir dropped Logan’s hand and turned to face Narmartë. “Ilcanalta got word of the force attacking Lindornëa from Sir Helcëtôr. Knight Captain Fallaistra took most of our forces with her to assist in Lindornëa’s defense. Before Fallaistra could return we were hit by a Warband of Orcs led by a pair of Balrogs. We might have beaten the Orcs back, but the Balrogs overwhelmed our defenses.”

At this Ronir slammed a fist against the table causing the mirror to shake in its stand. For a second Logan could feel his anger like a smoldering fire and then he regained control. In that brief instant Logan had seen the passion and power hidden beneath the controlled demeanor. Sir Ronir was obviously a powerful Elven Knight who, in the words of Sir Helcëtôr, could hear the music of Ainur and possibly sing a bit of it.

“I was entrusted with the defense of Ilcanalta, I used our forces to buy time for our people to escape and for Knight-Captain Fallaistra to reinforce us.” He gestured out at the flat, “As you can see I failed. The village is gone, as are most of my warriors. I’ve spent what I could of the night, after we fell back and disengaged, helping our survivors get here, but less than half of our people escaped. From what I’ve been told the survivors of Lindornëa out number our survivors two to one.”

“Do not blame yourself.” Narmartë said, laying a hand on Ronir’s shoulder. “We had help that you lacked.” Then she gestured toward Logan, “Ilcaúrna wears the form of an Atan, but she is from beyond Arda as is her companion the warrior Sornohen.”

Ronir’s mouth dropped open in surprise and he gave Logan an astonished look, “Can it be? You are of the Maiar?”

At this Logan felt uncomfortable, she didn’t want to lie to this handsome Elf but didn’t really understand what was going on. “It is true, I come from beyond Arda. Although, I’d never heard the term Maiar until last night.”

Before Ronir could respond Narmartë jumped in, “She and Sornohen fought and killed the Balrog Gorlung. Then Sornohen and Sir Helcëtôr led a force to fight Gothmog while Ilcaúrna came to my aid. Our escape was blocked by a company of Orcs who’d occupied the high ground. In addition to the Orc archers a blocking force of Orcs led by a Balrog stood in our way. I tried to kill him but I failed. Just as he was about to slay me Ilcaúrna arrived. She fought and destroyed him and led our people out of the trap. I haven’t heard from Sornohen or Sir Helcëtôr but I wouldn’t be surprised if Gothmog met his fate last night.”

As Narmartë spoke the look on Sir Ronir’s face went from surprised to one that was filled with hope. He glanced at Logan with a look of awe on his face, “My Lady, thank you for your aid. Even if my village has paid a heavy price the death of so many of Angband’s best servants is a worthy feat.”

Logan felt uncomfortable and instead moved over to the map. “Sir Ronir, I’m unfamiliar with the terrain.” She indicated the map with a wave of her hand, “Please, could you show me where we are and where the villages of Nevrast are? If this is a campaign, then there are probably other forces on the move. We should start trying to understand what the enemy has done. From there we can plan our next move.”

“Certainly my Lady, although, with all due respect our next move is obvious. We will spend the day gathering as many refugees as we can and then march to the hidden ways. From there we will come to Ondolindë and our civilians will be safe.”

Narmartë shot Ronir a questioning look and he nodded, “Yes, I’ve already sent word to King Turukáno. Pray to Illúvatar he will take pity on Nevrast and send a force to help.”

Logan looked behind her at the long line of refugees strung out for more than a mile. She reached up to wipe the sweat from her forehead despite the cool air brought on by the upper elevation. Not long after her initial meeting with Ronir he’d received word from King Turukáno to bring the survivors of the raid into Tumladen for safety. This message was quickly passed among the Elves and it was met with cheers and sorrow. From what Logan was able to piece together these remaining villages were the last of King Turukáno’s people in Nevrast, and they’d been reluctant to leave their homes for the greater security of Tumladen. Now with the forces of Angband upon them they were willing to accept the King’s protection, even if it meant losing their homes.

They’d left the river flat by mid-morning and were following a dry river bed between a set of steep bluffs. The ground was dry and hardened from the stream that had once flowed down it. This made the journey much easier and when Logan glanced up and ahead she spotted the virile form of Sir Ronir leading the way. His armor and high helm made him easy to spot and Logan had to suppress a shiver at the sight. There was something about him that made her knees go weak and caused her to want to reach out and touch him.

Then reflexively Logan glanced up into the sky and saw a pair of mighty eagles. They were soaring lazily, wings stretched wide, upon thermal currents. Even though the distance was great Logan was sure these were the largest eagles she’d ever seen. Then to distract herself she glanced over at Narmartë who was walking next to her.

“Have you been to Ondolindë before?”

“Yes, I grew up in Tumladen and when I was a little girl my father took me to the white tower and introduced me to the head of our House, Ith Mindon. During the visit we called upon King Turukáno and his court.” Logan saw that Narmartë was lost in the memory even as she spoke. “The white walls of the city of Ondolindë seemed to stretch up to the heavens and as tall as they were the white tower was far taller. The yard before the tower had the greenest grass I’ve ever seen and by the pool in the yard were two trees, Glingal and Belthil, gold and silver trees in the likeness of Telperion and Laurelin, the trees of light.” At this Narmartë paused lost in her memory.

Logan after a few minutes of walking asked, “Will there be room for all of these,” she gestured at the refugees streaming out behind them, “in the city?”

Narmartë glanced back and then up at Logan, “No, but the Vale of Tumladen is quite large. Most will have kin in the valley. Those that don’t will be taken care of by the King or one of the Lords of a Great House.” Seeing Logan’s confused look Narmartë continued, “Ondolindë was built by King Turukáno be his capital. It is divided into twelve sections one for each of the twelve Great Houses. Each of our folk will have sworn allegiance to one of the Great Houses. That House will be honor bound to find food and shelter for them.”

At this Narmartë paused and Logan thought she was done speaking but then she added, “King Turukáno has been trying to get all the Noldor and Sindar of Nevrast to migrate to the hidden Vale of Tumladen. I don’t know how Morgoth got this army past the Siege of Angband, but the fact that he was able to do it will cause most of the remaining folk of Nevrast to flee to Tumladen.”

Logan wasn’t sure how to take Narmartë’s words, they were filled with emotion and she wasn’t sure if Narmartë thought it good or ill that the remaining Elves would leave their land. Logan was saved from having to make a comment by the sound of running water. They’d followed the draw up to the point where the water had been diverted. In front of them the land opened showing a small lake surrounded by high cliffs and pine trees. The water had been dammed by a fall of rocks and as the lake filled a new track had been cut by the water plunging away in a series of short waterfalls to Logan’s left. From where Logan stood on the opposite shore of the lake a mighty waterfall dumped tons of water into it and was the source of the sound Logan had identified.

“Where are we?”

“This is known as Sky-Lake and its waters are the sweetest in all of Beleriand.”

Logan looked around at once impressed by the natural beauty of the land and alarmed at the situation. “Where will we go from here?” She asked. The surrounding mountains were now almost vertical cliffs reaching down to touch the far shore of the lake. From where they stood Logan could see a narrow strip of rocky beach to the right that would allow them to pass half way around the lake to the giant waterfall but from there the path ended. This lake was obviously the head of the dried up waterway they’d been following.

“We are now at the head of the hidden way.” Sir Ronir said, his voice startling Logan since she hadn’t heard him approach. “By law only the people of King Turukáno may follow the hidden path.”

“True,” Narmartë interjected, “but I doubt that the law was ever intended to apply to the Maiar.”

Sir Ronir nodded, “I agree.” Then he looked at Logan, “Upon my honor as a Knight of Ondolindë if you will vow to keep the paths you are about to see secret then I will vouch for you before the King.”

For a minute Logan didn’t know if she wanted to travel to the hidden city. She knew that she needed to find Molly and return to the gate. But events had swept them up and she didn’t even know where Molly was much less how to find the ruins with the gate. Then an alarming thought occurred to her, the Key to the gate had been the stone knife they’d used to activate it. Molly had kept the knife in his backpack. The last time Logan had seen it had been in the village of Lindornëa before the attack. Would they even be able to activate the gate without the knife? Then Logan realized that the two elves were waiting for her answer.

“Of course you have my word.” Then sensing more was expected she continued. “I swear by the Light that I will reveal the hidden path to Ondolindë to no one without King Turukáno’s permission.”

Sir Ronir nodded, “Then follow me.”

With that he set off following the narrow strip of land around to the waterfall. As Logan approached she gained a greater appreciation for the size of the waterfall. Once when she’d been a young boy, Logan’s parents had taken him to Niagara Falls and the size and power of the falling water had left a permanent impression on Logan. Now as she got closer and closer to the mighty water fall she was reminded of that experience. This waterfall wasn’t as broad as Niagara but the fall was higher and soon Logan could feel the power of the fall by the vibration in her bones.

As they got closer and closer to the waterfall Logan began to get concerned, surely there was no way that they were going to pass under the waterfall. Then less than a hundred feet from it Sir Ronir turned to the right and headed toward the cliff face. For a moment Logan wondered what he was doing then she spotted a dark shadow between two outcroppings of rock. Sir Ronir disappeared into the shadow and Logan and Narmartë followed. As she neared the shadow Logan saw that it was deeper than she’d thought and then as she stepped between the outcroppings Logan saw that it wasn’t just a shadow. It was the opening of a cave, hidden from view until one got right up on it.

Logan stepped into the narrow passage and saw that Sir Ronir was already there holding a glowing crystal in his hand. The grin on his face was contagious and Logan smiled in response.

“Welcome to the hidden way.” Then he turned around and moved into the cave. Logan and Narmartë followed in silence. For Logan the beauty of the cave was breath taking. Yet even as she moved forward a part of her mind noted the well-worn path in the stone. Even though this cave seemed undisturbed, to Logan’s eye it was easy to see that hundreds, if not thousands, of footsteps had moved among the Stalagmites and Stalactites.

As they moved forward Logan realized that there must have been a pile of spell-sung rock next to the entrance because every fifth or sixth Elf to pass within picked up a rock sang briefly to it and then held it aloft as it flared up with a bright blue-white light. Soon the cave was filled with light as the survivors of the Orc attack made their way through the cavern. The first gallery was perhaps a hundred meters long and it opened into an even bigger cavern. Then Logan noticed as they passed into the third that the ground was starting to slope up.

For the next two hours they walked from one cave to the next each seeming lager than the last and they were constantly moving up. Then they made it to a cavern with a roof that vaulted beyond the limits of the spell-stones they carried. Logan with a thought switched her vision to that of Melchiresa and the darkness faded away. Logan’s breath caught as she realized the roof of the cavern was an amazing formation of quartz and crystal. With enough light it would put on a dazzling display and for a second she considered using her power to do just that, but then she shook off the temptation. Some instinct told her not too.

Sir Ronir directed a halt to their march and the Elves spread out finding places to stretch out and relax. The supplies they’d brought with them were shared out for if they’d been in the open Logan knew it would be noon. The children were tired but holding up as mothers attempted to feed and encourage them. As Logan watched she couldn’t help feeling a new sympathy for the mothers as they tried to take care of their young. ‘What would it feel like to be a mother with your child fleeing for your life,’ Logan wondered. She shivered as she considered, what might happen if she couldn’t get back to Earth. Would she be fated to spend the rest of her life as a woman? Based on her body’s reaction to Ronir she was very much a heterosexual female. Would she end up married with children of her own? This put a whole new light on her observation of the refugees.

“Ilcaúrna, are you thirsty?”

Logan looked over at Narmartë who offered her a cup of water. Where she’d gotten the clay cup or the water Logan didn’t know, but she was grateful for it.

“Thanks. How much longer until we’re out of these caves?”

“I’m not sure, but if I were to guess another hour. We’ve been making good time even with the little ones.”

Logan took a deep drink of the water and was surprised at how clear and fresh it was. Before she could ask the question Narmartë answered it.

“The water is from Sky-Lake. Those with water skins took the time to refresh them before entering the caves.”

Before long another Elf showed up with a piece of flat bread and cheese. As far as lunches went it wasn’t the best that Logan had had, but it filled her up and she knew that she was more than ready to continue when Sir Ronir passed the word to set out again.

The next chamber was smaller and for the first time Logan noted that the floor was now sloping down. Narmartë’s prediction proved accurate because just under an hour later the pale light of the sun shone down through the mouth of the last cave. Logan followed Sir Ronir and Narmartë as they exited the cave only to stop and stare up in surprise. Directly in front of her was a mighty stockade wall made of logs lashed together. What was astonishing was the height of each log had to be over two hundred feet. Then it dawned on Logan that these logs had to come from the Trees of Lindornëa.

“Halt! Who approaches the outer Gates of Ondolindë and the Vale of Tumladen!”

Molly gave the signal and the archers cut lose with a volley. The Orc Warband had thought they’d trapped the small troop of Elves and had charged in taking the bait. The Elves had quickly turned and formed a shield wall spears glittering in the afternoon sun. Before the Orcs could reach the infantry Molly had directed the archers to let fly. The hail of arrows slowed the charge causing it to falter before it struck the Elfish phalanx. The archers had been positioned along a ridge to the north of the infantry just out of sight of the attacking Orcs. Normally the Elves preferred to take positions within the trees, firing with great accuracy individually down onto the attacking horde. Molly had explained that keeping the archers together in a tight block would allow them to fire en-mass, thereby focusing the effect into a very tight area. The massing of the power of Elven archery into a tight area had a devastating impact. The Elves had been skeptical but had agreed because of Molly’s status as a Maiar and because he’d, by default, become their captain. The new tactic paid off as Orcs died in droves.

“Calvary, NOW!” Molly shouted, and the Elf next to her blew a quick note on his silver trumpet.

Molly looked down and saw that the Orcs had lifted their shields over their heads and resumed their advance. The sleeting arrows still took a toll but the Orcs were pushing forward. At the sound of the horn the knot of infantry charged forward. Even though they were outnumbered the fact that they were in a tight formation with overlapping shields wielding long spears gave them a huge advantage. They hit the Orcs and the impact reminded Molly of the crash of the surf upon the shore. He had to shake his head to drive out the memory he’d inherited from Logan. Molly was once again in full Spartan-Maiar form and towered over the Elves around him.

With his height advantage Molly was able to watch as the Orcs pushed forward. They outnumbered the Elven infantry by a factor of ten to one. The archers continued hitting them but the Orcs pressed forward. Because of their superior numbers they flowed to the left and right of the Elven formation starting to surround them. The discipline of the Elves was such that with a shouted command the infantry commander turned the phalanx into a fighting square with the first rank of spears facing out in all four directions.

Then the distant rumble of horses hooves sounded and Molly knew it was only a matter of seconds before the cavalry arrived. Apparently the Orc commander heard the rumble as well for a series of shrill whistles erupted and the Orcs tried to pull back but Molly knew it was too late. Before they could completely disengage the Elfish cavalry broke into the open behind the Orc formation. The Orcs tried to turn to face the charge but they were too slow and ill-disciplined and the cavalry hit them with devastating force. The cries of the dying Orcs rang out over the field of battle and Molly had to harden his heart against the pity he felt. A few days ago the idea of watching a brutal battle like this would have left Molly shocked and stunned. The idea of hurting another living creature was horrifying to her. Now with Logan’s memories and Kratos raw masculine power all Molly felt was contempt at the poor job the enemy had done to defend itself. This wasn’t a challenge worthy of his power.

In full panic the Orcs tried to flee in all directions making themselves easy targets for the archers to pick off and the cavalry to ride down. Molly glanced up at the sun trying to calculate.

*No more than half of a hour.* Kratos thought.

“My Lord Sornohen!”

Molly turned and saw the female scout, Tanna Greenleaf. “Tanna, report.” he acknowledged.

The scout nodded, “My Lord, we’ve spotted another band of Elves. This one is much larger and better organized than any of the others. They are about to be pinned down by a force of Orcs led by a Balrog.”

“While the sun is in the sky?”

Tanna nodded, “Yes, my lord. It seems the dark one has given his Captains some kind of protection from the sun.”

“Or perhaps the overcast is enough,” Alion added.

Molly looked over at his first spear and nodded, “Perhaps. Well, regardless, where are they?”

With that Alion pulled a crude map from his backpack and spread it on the ground using stones to hold the corners down. Tanna squatted next to him and began to point out the tactical situation.

“The Elven force is here. They’ve paused to set up a temporary camp. The Orcs are moving here and here.” She pointed to places to the north and south of the Elves. “The main force is here to the east of them with the Balrog. I think the main force will hit them first and then once fully engaged the forces to the north and south will attack.”

Molly nodded, “And with that stream at their back they’ll be slowed down if they try to cross over and escape.”

“Aye, my lord.”

“How do they look? You said they were setting up a temporary camp are the constructing fortifications? Have you tried to contact them?”

“Nay my lord, there is no sign that they are fortifying their position. Unfortunately, we weren’t able to communicate with them. We spotted them from this ridge,” here Tanna pointed to a location close to the river, “the forces of the Dark One are too thick around them for us to get through. However, we were able to spot their banner. They are flying the ensign of Knight Captain Fallaistra of Ilcanalta.” Tanna looked up at Molly concern clearly written on her face, “They look like they’ve been fighting continuously since last night. I don’t know how much more they’ve got left.”

The frank assessment told Molly how truly desperate the situation was. “Alright, here’s what we’re going to do.” With that Molly started to lay out his plan.

The tall blonde Knight looked up as the first Orc battle whistles sounded. The sun was still above the horizon and the beasts were attacking. It made no sense, but then the last two days had been full of events that didn’t make any sense. Worse yet, Captain Fallaistra of Ilcanalta, knew that she’d failed Ilcanalta, Lindornëa, and the Nevrast Knight Commander, Sir Helcëtôr. Now after almost two days of fighting her force had been reduced to almost half of their original strength, and her warriors were exhausted, and the enemy continued to press them. She shouted orders that she didn’t need to think about. Infantry to the front. Set up the defensive line. Archers behind the infantry to reduce the power of the Orcish charge. Knights in reserve ready to ride around and attack the host from the flanks and rear with fast moving attacks. These were tactics she knew well.

The Orcs appeared between the trees. At first one or two at a time but the trickle soon became a flood and as they moved onto the open ground they began to form up. Not with the organized discipline of the Elfish Warband but the tightly packed horde was a concentration of force that couldn’t be ignored. In a matter of minutes the front line of the Orc Warband had solidified and moved toward the Elves while the Orc war drums pounded out a deep bass.

“Upon my command, the archers will let fly.” Fallaistra was almost unaware of the words she spoke. Yet the command was echoed down the chain. She didn’t need to look to know that every under her command was already in position.

“Fire!”

Arrows arched into the sky and then fell like a white fletched rain upon the advancing Warband. Orcs dropped by the score, yet they advanced. Then out of the tree-line a Balrog stepped. The creature stood over ten feet tall and was writhed in flame and shadow. The trees around him burst into fire as he moved forward. Fallaistra felt a fist of fear grip her heart. How could anyone stand against a foe of this power?! She closed her eyes and thought back to her training, training that included ignoring fear and doing what was necessary to get the job done.

“Steady!” Fallaistra heard the words but she wasn’t aware that she’d said them. “Fire!”

Another round of arrows dropped upon the Orcs and their advance slowed as they became reluctant to get closer to the deadly elven archers. Then the Balrog shouted a thunderous command and although Fallaistra couldn’t understand what was said it spurred the Orcs forward. Then they fell upon the line of Elfish infantry and the battle was truly joined.

“Let the archers know they are to fire at their discretion.”

“Aye, aye, Ma’am!”

“Order the Knights to mount up.”

“Aye, aye, Ma’am,” Fallaistra’s Aid-de-Camp replied hurrying over to send messages. The initial impact of the Orc charge had been blunted by the archers and the infantry had assumed a strong position, yet Fallaistra watched as her infantry was slowly pushed back. Fallaistra kept her eyes on the Balrog who for now was directing the fight from the rear. The fallen Maiar was watching the battle content to sell the lives of his Orcs to further his understanding of his foes.

Abruptly there were sounds of drums and war whistles in the hills to either side of Fallaistra’s force. Stunned she looked up to the hills, somehow the Orcs had managed to get a force up onto the bluffs. She’d placed scouts upon those hills and had counted on a warning if the Orcs attempted to surround her. With the river at her back she’d planned to cross if necessary to evade the dark host. Now with her forces engaged pulling back and disengaging would be next to impossible. An arrow fell a few feet to Fallaistra’s left narrowly missing her Aide. Orcish archers on the bluffs would turn this battle very quickly, particularly if they were augmented with a force of infantry.

“Pass the signal, the cavalry is to mount up. Upon my command we will pass through the lines of infantry and knock a hole in the side of this trap. The infantry and archers will follow behind the cavalry. Pass the word, carry only what you must for we need to move quickly to escape.”

Fallaistra had filled her voice with confidence when she issued her orders, yet as she watched the messengers run to deliver them to her Lieutenants she knew this was a desperate attempt. Moving one force through its own line was something that needed to be practiced and was always risky if the first force was still engaged. But what made this so desperate was the Balrog. It had set the trap perfectly and now it waited with a reserve force directly in her path. If she were to salvage any of her company she’d have to kill that damn beast.

Fallaistra moved to her horse and leapt into the saddle. This time she planned to lead the charge. She moved her horse over to Knight-Lieutenant Pengon and returned his salute.

“We’re ready to ride, Captain. Just say the word.”

Fallaistra nodded, and knew that although Pengon’s voice had been filled with confidence by the look in his eyes she knew that he understood how desperate their situation really was.

“You will lead the first rank as we pass through the line, Pengon. We won’t be able to charge so it will be slow work. I’ll keep a third of our force in reserve and once you’re through the Orcs I’ll charge. Leave the Balrog and his guards to me. Take whatever knights you’ve got left and attack the Orcs in the hills to the north. Our infantry and archers will follow you out and your assault should provide them with the cover they need to escape.”

“Yes, Captain, where will we link up?”

“Head for Iachon’s crossing. If we are successful this Warband will be in no condition to follow.”

Lieutenant Pengon saluted, “May the Light favor us this day, Captain.”

“Aye, Lieutenant may the light favor us.”

Fallaistra moved to gather her force of knights and made sure everyone knew what they were supposed to do. As she spoke the hail of black arrows grew thicker as the Orcs on the bluffs found the range. The sounds of the dying told Fallaistra that she was out of time. She lifted her hand to give the signal to the infantry to allow them to pass through. When a horn sounded. Not an Orc horn, but a silver Elfish bugle. Bright and loud the bugle was full of contempt for the forces of Angband. Then to her amazement a force of Elfish knights in silver and golden armor came over the hill behind the Balrog and his reserve. They raced down upon the creature of fire and darkness and to Fallaistra’s amazement the Knights were led by a giant glowing warrior.

The warrior wasn’t riding a horse, for no horse was big enough to carry him, yet he practically flew along, his feet barely touching the ground as he kept pace with the fastest Knight. Then he lifted an arm and a glowing trident appeared and he threw it without breaking stride. The trident flew forward and the Balrog tried to step aside but was too slow. The trident struck and thunder rolled over the field of battle as the Balrog was thrown from its feet. Then Fallaistra heard horns sound upon the bluffs, this was followed Elven war-cries and abruptly the sleet of black arrows ceased.

Now the Knights were among the reserves and the glowing warrior met the Balrog as it climbed to its feet. Blade and shield against whip and hammer, they fought and it was like the world held its breath. Elves and Orcs alike fell back to watch the battle. With a mighty blow the Balrog brought its hammer down upon the warrior’s shield, and the sound of it breaking rang out over the field. The warrior dropped to a knee as his arm hung uselessly, yet even as he fell he drove the sword in his good arm forward into the Balrog’s guts.

The Balrog let out a mighty cry and dropped both hammer and whip trying to clutch at the sword. Then the warrior surged to his feet gutting the servant of Morgoth in a vicious move before kicking it from his blade. The fell thing dropped back and fire shot up in a column that forced even the mighty warrior back. As the fire died Fallaistra sensed a shadow depart. Suddenly, the remaining light of the sun seemed brighter and the clouds that had been casting an early shadow upon the field parted.

“Now, my Knights. Charge!” Her shouted command surprised her and then Fallaistra urged her horse to a full gallop.

The Orcs had fallen back disengaging from the Elven infantry. This brief respite was all Fallaistra needed to safely pass through the lines and without the Balrog she was free to slaughter the Orcs on the field. With a fierce joy she spurred her horse forward, and as she did a song burst from her lips. It was the battle hymn of the Noldor and the rays of the setting sun fell upon Fallaistra causing her to blaze up with light. The Orcs fell back in fear and the Elves riding with her picked up the song driving the Orcs before them. For the first time in the last two days Fallaistra felt a surge of hope. Perhaps Nevrast might be saved, but in any case the enemy would pay for the blood they’d spilled.

Author Note:

1: This story is based on the Altered Fates Universe concept established by Jennifer Adams, however I’ve taken some artistic liberties so this story doesn’t strictly adhere to the rules Jennifer established.

2: This is also a fanfic of the J.R.R. Tolkien world of Middle Earth in an untold tale of the First Age. Please note; I didn’t stay completely true to the Middle Earth that Tolkien set up. This is my take on what Middle Earth in the First Age might have been like.

The hooded figure sat upon a throne of skulls and looked out at the blazing fire in the middle of the room. At first glance the circular chamber might have been mistaken for a building that is until the wind caused one of the canvas walls to quiver. The tent’s roof rose sharply and it was open in the center allowing the heat and smoke from the fire a place to escape.

Across the knees of the manlike figure on the throne was a mighty sword, around the fire knelt a half dozen Orc chiefs their foreheads touching the ground. Behind the Orcs sitting on their haunches three Troll Clan-Carls waited, and to his left and right stood a pair of beings, clothed in shadow, patient, and silent. At first glance one would assume the flames from the fire were reflected in the eyes of the hooded-one. This was a false impression as the flames within the being’s eyes were no reflection, instead the eyes were merely windows to the fire that burned within the creature.

“Tell me again, how you had the Elf Knight Fallaistra trapped and outnumbered while you held the high ground and she not only defeated you but managed to slaughter almost a quarter of my army?”

The words were soft spoken but in the true tongue of Angband they carried a weight and menace to every ear within the tent striking fear in all except the Lieutenants standing to either side of the throne. The Orc in the center, larger than the others lifted his head, “My Lord Gothmog, it is not our fault. We were set upon from behind by that accursed being known as Sornohen, it was he who slew, Vothgær, and sent us flying for our lives.”

A hush fell upon the creatures within the tent and even the Balrogs glanced nervously at Gothmog. None had dared to speak the name of the Maiar who’d taken Gothmog’s hand. For a moment the being on the throne glanced down at the stump of his left hand and then he looked up at those in the tent waiting on his command.

“Leave me.”

The Orcs and Trolls quickly departed leaving Gothmog and his two lieutenants. Once they were alone Gothmog turned to them and nodded, “My brother and sister, who is this Maiar Knight that goes by the Noldoren name, Sornohen?”

The venom in Gothmog’s voice as he spoke the name caused the fire to flare in response. The Balrog lieutenants moved to stand before the throne. Shadows clung to them but their fires were held within and they stood no taller than an Elf. Yet the powerful aura of darkness left no doubt of their nature.

“My Captain,” said the Balrog to his right, “I’ve questioned the prisoners of Lindornëa. None knew, before our attack, that two Maiar were within the village. Their nature was kept secret until we forced them to reveal themselves.”

After a few minutes of silence Gothmog stood up and moved down from his throne, in his current form he was only a few inches taller than his Lieutenants. The stump of his left hand drew the gaze of both Lieutenants. When Gothmog had shifted from his battle-form to his everyday-form he’d been unable to regrow his hand. The disfigurement was rare for creatures whose origin was beyond Arda. Gothmog strode to the fire, placed his sword tip first into the dirt leaning on it with his good hand and stared into the flames.

“Six Valaraukar I brought with me, to destroy the last seven villages of King Turukáno’s folk here in Nevrast, plus two leading the host from the east. Now only four of us remain.” He shook his head, “Our Lord will not be pleased.” Then in a louder voice, “This whole situation has the feeling of the hand of Irmo, Lord of Spirits and Dreams, the Master Summoner of the Valar. Only Irmo could bring two such beings from beyond the veil of the world and set them upon this course.”

“My lord, perhaps it’s time to set a trap?” The Balrog who spoke up was the only female of her race to accompany the army from Angband.

“What do you suggest Alarukë?”

At this the Balrog moved between Gothmog and the fire, shadows swirled around her and her form shrank further. When the shadows left a tall, blonde, elfish woman in white, green, and gold raiment stood. She was fair of skin and pleasing to the eye in only the way that the Maiar or the fairest of Elves can be.

“This Sornohen is male is he not? I’ve yet to meet the male that can resist my charms.”

Gothmog nodded and then looked at his last Lieutenant, “Handmaiden of Melkor, do your work as you see fit. Take whatever resources you need.” He then turned to the remaining Balrog, “Come Gôrlir, we need to plan the next phase of this campaign for only four of the seven villages have fallen and we now have a large Elfish Warband and an organized resistance to contend with.”

Logan looked into the mirror feeling torn. Molly’s face stared back and while there was a part of her that had expected the reflection. She was still caught by surprise at times expecting to see her male face instead. Logan reached up and ran a hand over her fiery locks admiring the long intricate braid that Narmartë had helped her work into her hair. She turned sideways admiring the dark green dress and sighed. The corset built into the dress accented her tiny waist and the flare of her hips while pushing up her breasts. Back when she’d been male she’d have taken the girl in the mirror into her arms and . . . Logan allowed the thought to trail off. Now she felt nothing, except pleased with how she looked in the dress.

Logan turned away from the mirror and moved over to the window. Night was just about to fall and the shadows were getting longer, yet from where she stood she could see the great wall and the seventh gate. When Logan and the refugees from Nevrast had left the hidden way they’d come upon the first Gate of Ondolindë. In her mind’s eye Logan could still see the mighty timbers rising from the steep rocky ground.

Sir Ronir had hailed the Gate and it had swung open allowing the Elves to enter. As Logan had walked through she’d noticed that this wasn’t a simple palisade. The gate turned out to be a tunnel almost ten feet long and when Logan had asked about it she’d been told that the wall had been constructed in three layers. Between each layer of wood the Elves had filled the space with sand and gravel. The logs were treated and set deeply into the rocky ground but the craftsmanship was such that none of the dirt spilled out. This wall would take a pounding and still stand particularly when the size and thickness of the wood logs was taken into account. They had obviously been harvested from the forest around Lindornëa. Normally a structure like this could be attacked with fire and that might weaken the outer layer but the two behind would still hold and the fire could only catch and burn from the outside.

It had been late in the day and the refugees were tired from all of the walking so they’d made camp. The guards of the first gate had been polite and their Captain had taken Sir Ronir and Narmartë to one side for a private conference. The next day they’d set out again and it had taken the entire day to work their way up into the pass. Now Logan estimated they must be at least twelve thousand feet up but they’d passed through the finale gate. Each gate had been different, higher and more formidable as the pass got narrower. The second gate had been made of stone set within a tall stone wall. This had also been cunningly constructed as the gate was raised by the use of a counter-weighting system. Logan had felt a little nervous as she’d passed beneath several tons of stone that could have been sent crashing down. From that point on the walls had been made of stone but each gate was different.

The third gate was of wood sheathed in bronze. The fourth was a great iron gate and by the time she got to the fifth gate Logan was stunned to see what appeared to be silver. When she’d asked about it she’d been told it was ‘true’ silver or mithril. The wealth and craftsmanship that went into constructing the gate was astonishing and Logan wondered if it was designed to awe an attacker as much as defend the pass. The sixth gate had been wrought of gold and Logan was told that a special process had been used to harden the gold before it had been hammered in a series of plates over the mithril and wooden gate. The last gate was made of steel and seemed simple after the wealth of the fifth and sixth gates.

The stone wall rose up from the narrow pass well over a hundred feet and to approach the gate Logan had to pass between a pair of towers. This would cause any attacking force to be caught in a lethal crossfire. The gate was protected by a wooden drawbridge and the trench before the bridge was lined with tightly fit stones and a forest of iron spikes. Logan saw that the bridge had been covered in mithril plates. Then an iron portcullis had been set just inside the barbican after that a tunnel let to the steel doors of the gate. The roof of the tunnel had been lined with kill-ports for either arrow fire or the dumping of oil turning the tunnel into a kill zone.

When she’d stepped through the last gate Logan saw that what amounted to a small town that had been cut into the side of the mountain. It was here that the Elves charged with guarding the gates lived. Narmartë explained that the watch was rotated from the town and duty on each of the gates was a one year posting. After seven years there would be a battalion swap out occurred as the next battalion came on duty. The town had been built to support the warriors as they stood the watch.

By the time they’d climbed to the top of the pass and reached the seventh gate the sun was almost setting. The town was small, if Logan had to guess she’d have said no more than a few thousand Elves lived in the pass. Narmartë had led her to a nice hotel cut into the side of the mountain with a view of the wall and town. It was this view that took Logan’s breath as she watched the sun set.

The knock on the door drew Logan’s attention away from the view and she hurried over to the open it. Narmartë stood in the hallway dressed in a light blue dress that showed her figure to full advantage. The change from warrior to lady was shocking and Logan blurted out, “Wow, you clean up nice.”

Narmartë gave Logan an amused smile, “A strange phrase, was that this Engleesh, you told me of?”

Logan felt her face flush as she realized she’d accidentally switched to English. “Um, English, yes. I just commented that you look lovely.”

“As do you. I was a little surprised that Lord Penlod had dresses of this quality here”

“More surprising is that they fit.”

At this Narmartë laughed, “Nay, they are constructed by the Art. They will adjust to the size of the woman and shape themselves to show our best traits.” With that Narmartë’s gay laughter floated out and she spun around in a circle causing her dress to flare. “Come, Sir Ronir and my Lord Penlod are waiting for us.”

Logan followed Narmartë feeling a little guilty. They left the inn and as they walked, all around them, crystals set on tall poles began to flare up filling the darkness with colored light. At the same time the last rays of the sun faded and one by one bright stars began to twinkle into existence. It was a scene of ethereal beauty that should have taken Logan’s breath away. As if sensing her companion’s somber mood Narmartë looked at her.

“Ilcaúrna, we have only known each other for a short time, yet I feel you are a kindred soul.” Logan didn’t know what to say so she just nodded. “Because of this I can tell that something is troubling you.”

“It’s just that we’re here, dressed for a formal dinner, in a well-defended town, far from danger, and my friend, Sornohen, is out there facing battle . . .”

At this the laughter left Narmartë’s eyes, “I know, I’m troubled for my kin in Nevrast and the loss of Sir Helcëtôr is like a knife through my heart.” Then on some instinct she asked, “But something else troubles you, does it not?”

Logan paused, thinking, and then she realized what had been bothering her for some time. “I’m also worried that we might not be able to get home.” She took a deep breath very aware of the way her breasts strained against her dress.

“You see we came into this world through a gate beyond the river where we met you. At this point I’m not sure we can find the gate. But assuming we can the key to opening it was in Sornohen’s pack. That pack was in his room back in Lindornëa. I fear the village is lost to the Orcs, or perhaps burned to the ground. In any case, if the key is lost then we might not be able to open the gate even if we can find it.”

Narmartë reached out and took Logan’s hand causing both of them to stop walking. “You are worried that you cannot return home?” Logan nodded. “I understand the loss of home and kin is very difficult.” She gestured with her chin at the buildings where most of the refugees were being hosted. “My people of just experienced both.”

Abruptly Logan felt ashamed, here she was lamenting the fact that she might be stuck in this world but her family and friends were safe. These people had just lost everything.

“You are a hero. You’re actions saved many lives and King Turukáno, is generous and will not forget. I believe that you will find a home here, for as long as you want it.”

Narmartë’s words made Logan feel better and the temptation to let go, to accept the offer was hard to ignore. But Logan had been hired to keep Molly safe. She’d already failed at that job, because wherever Molly was, Logan felt sure she wasn’t safe. There was also the issue of getting Molly back home to his father and getting them switched back. Taking Narmartë’s offer would mean accepting the fact the Logan was now and forever, a woman. The idea had a strange attraction and Logan had to fight it off. ‘I’m a man, damn it!’ he thought. There was a giggle in the back of his mind, *Really?*

“I have a duty, Narmartë. Sornohen and I must return to our land or we will fail in that duty.”

The words were spoken softly and Logan could see that Narmartë sensed the inner turmoil that shook Logan. Instead of arguing Narmartë wove her arm through Logan’s and started walking.

“The stars are bright tonight. We are young and alive, having survived battle and privation. Put aside your fears and concerns for one night, at least, and celebrate our safe arrival.”

Logan couldn’t help smiling at Narmartë’s good mood and then she heard the sounds of singing and gay laughter floating up from the dormitories that had been given over to the survivors.

“What are they doing?”

“Celebrating life. We, all of us, survived. Now is a time to give thanks for there will be dark times ahead.”

Narmartë shifted her grip to take Logan by the hand and she started skipping gaily forward forcing Logan to keep up. Soon Narmartë’s good mood infected Logan and she found herself skipping along with Narmartë. Her worry dispelled and when Narmartë added an occasional twirl to her skipping stride Logan joined in. Their casual walk became a competition to see whose dress would flare the best and their laughter filled the night.

Before Logan knew it they came to a building larger than the others with a set of marble columns before intricately carved oaken doors and a bright fountain that sent clear water into the air. Logan stopped out of breath and leaned on Narmartë for support and at the sight of the stern guards looking down at them the two women burst into giggles.

“Come!” Narmartë grabbed Logan’s hand and lead her up the steps and between the pillars. As she climbed the steps Logan looked back at the fountain and wondered at the engineering that must have gone into building a fountain in a place like this, then Narmartë stopped and Logan almost ran into her. To either side of the great doors a pair of tall Elven warriors stood with red tabards over their golden armor. Centered upon the red tabards was the symbol of a golden pillar. One of the guards opened the doors while the other saluted, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth.

“Hail, my Lady Narmartë Thlim Ith Mindon, you are welcome in the House of Lord Penlod.” Then he turned to Logan and bowed deeply, “Be welcome, Lady Ilcaúrna et Maiar.”

Narmartë swept past and Logan followed noting how the eyes of the guards followed her before they closed the door. The hall was lit by more of the multi-colored crystals and they were met by a short thin Elf who had the air of someone who’s seen everything and nothing surprises him. And while his face was unlined his hair was as white as snow.

“Good evening, my ladies. If you will follow me I will bring you to my Lord’s dining chamber.”

Narmartë smiled and then leaned in to hug the Elf. “Good evening to you Melandrach! It’s been a long time.”

At this the older Elf allowed his facade of indifference to slip and he reached up to awkwardly pat Narmartë on the back.

“Aye, Lady Narmartë, I think the last time I saw you was after your parent’s death when Sir Helcëtôr named you his heir and presented you to the Court.”

At the mention of her parents death Narmartë stiffened but then relaxed again right away. If Logan hadn’t known her so well she’d have never spotted the brief reaction. Melandrach had felt it and when Narmartë moved to step back he held her for a second. “I’m sorry for bringing up a painful memory.”

“Nonsense, the night of my second court presentation is one of my fondest memories.”

“Indeed, please follow me.”

Logan moved up to walk next to Narmartë and gave her a quick sideways glance to see how she was doing but it was as if nothing had happened. ‘Perhaps I just imagined it.’ Logan thought. Then they entered a large room with couches set around the perimeter. In the middle of the room stood a table filled with all manner of fruit, nuts, bread, and cheese. There were also several pitchers with water condensing on the outside set on trays with glass goblets.

“Ah, my ladies, you look much refreshed.”

Logan looked to the side and saw Sir Ronir standing up from where he’d been sitting. He moved forward with a cat like grace, his black boots making almost no noise on the stone floor. Ronir was dressed formally in black trousers with a red tunic and golden scroll work along the sleeves and neck. Over his heart was the symbol of the golden pillar, similar to those worn by the guards.

“And, if I might be so bold, beautiful. Please, may I pour you a glass of wine?

For a moment Logan couldn’t answer, her heart was beating a mile a minute as the tall Elfish knight gave her a bright smile. Sensing her friend’s hesitation Narmartë looked curiously at Logan and then the corners of her mouth twitched in mirth and her eyes started to sparkle.

“Yes, Sir Ronir, we’d both love a glass.”

The tall knight poured two goblets and handed the first to Narmartë before turning to Logan and extending a glass. Logan reached out and when their fingers touched Logan thought she could almost feel a spark from the contact. Her face flushed and she drew her hand back almost losing her grip on the glass.

“Are you alright my lady?”

Sir Ronir took a step closer and Logan had to tilt her head back to see his face. When she did she found herself staring up into his clear blue eyes and realized they reminded her of the sky.

“Ilcaúrna?”

Logan looked over at Narmartë who hid her smile behind her glass as she raised it. “To our good fortune, may the light of Valinor shine upon us.”

Logan took a sip of the wine and let out a small gasp of surprise, light and dry, with a crispness she’d never tasted. She was just about to comment when a new voice interrupted.

“A lovely toast, but it pales when compared to the beauty of the one who made it.”

Logan turned and saw standing in the doorway a large powerfully built Elf. He must have been six and a half feet tall and as he stepped into the room the light from the crystal chandelier gleamed upon his dark red hair. Logan tried to speak but she sensed Melchiresa urging her to be silent. Slowly Narmartë moved forward and it was as if no one else existed and Logan could have sworn the light from the chandelier softened.

“My Lord Penlod, Thlim Climbol.”

Narmartë swept into a deep graceful curtsy and when she looked up her eyes practically glowed. Penlod moved closer until he was only a few inches from Narmartë.

“My Lady Narmartë Thlim Ith Mindon, need we be so formal? Have we not known each other since we were children?”

Now for the first time Logan sensed a flush to Narmartë’s checks, “True my lord but this is the first time I’ve seen you, in private, since our betrothal.”

Penlod reached forward with a large hand to tilt Narmartë’s head up, “All the more reason for informality.”

Then he slowly leaned down and brushed his lips against Narmartë’s. In that moment Logan realized that she’d forgotten to breathe, so caught up in the spectacle was she. The simplicity of the reunion did nothing to suppress the undercurrent of passion. For several heart beats they stood in each other’s arms and then Narmartë seemed to come to herself. She stepped back and turned to face Logan and Ronir, although Logan noted that she was still holding Penlod’s hand.

“My lord Penlod, it is my pleasure to introduce you to the Lady Ilcaúrna et Maiar. It was with her timely aid that I was able to return to you. I and all the people of Nevrast owe her and her companion Sornohen et Maiar, a debt of gratitude.”

Reluctantly Penlod looked up from Narmartë to Logan and nodded. “Indeed, then I’m doubly blessed, for you have returned to me my beloved and our people who remained in the outer realm.” Then he looked a little closer and continued, “Yet you do not appear in the shape of the Maiar as the bards have taught us. Instead you resemble one of the Atan.”

Logan was suddenly aware of three sets of eyes looking at her and she felt Melchiresa stir.

“I understand your words, and I’ve got no answer for them. I have never named myself Maiar. It is true that I come from beyond Arda.”

“I have seen her transform my lord, just as the Maiar are said to be able to do. She can change her shape and the Song is Strong within her. She has dominion over the Air, Fire, and Metal and has used her power to save our people.” Narmartë’s voice carried a touch of awe and the look she gave Logan made her feel uncomfortable.

“What a wondrous thing. My Lady Ilcaúrna, would you honor us this night with a display of your power?”

At this Logan felt Melchiresa shift again, *Hmmmm, I think they want to play.* Logan could feel Melchiresa’s eagerness to show what they could do, and for some reason she was reluctant to show off too much.

“If I were to transform I’d ruin this dress, and that would be a real shame.”

Then Logan, before her hosts could say anything held her left hand out and summoned her power. Fire danced down and around her arm in a spiral and then a ring formed around her wrist. A line of fire broke away from the circle and shot across and then back, again and again until a pentagram of fire wreathed Logan’s wrist.

There was a collective intake of breath and then Sir Ronir spoke, “Beautiful, and powerful, truly we are all blessed tonight.”

Molly looked down at the map and felt frustrated. For some reason he’d always thought that Elfish cartography would be superb. Still it was good enough to get a general sense of the land. Nevrast was surrounded on all sides by a mountain range called Echoriath, or the encircling mountains. The territory was about half again as big as Molly’s native Michigan and in the center of the land was a great bog or swamp. From the mountains several streams or rivers flowed down into the swamp. The seven Elven villages had been built in a crescent starting to the north of the swamp and continuing around the east side with the last village south of the bog. Lindornëa and Ilcanalta had been the two north most villages and the force of Orcs had hit them from the west. While this had happened a second force had come in from the east attacking the eastern most village of Talatphen cutting off the northern villages from those south of the bog.

Then the force in the east had turned west and north attacked toward the army that had destroyed Lindornëa. As far as Molly could tell four villages had been destroyed with the eastern most two a complete loss. There were three villages south of the bog. Molly glanced up from the map as the flap to the tent opened and Sir Fallaistra entered. After a moment he waved the blonde Knight over and looked at the other faces watching him. These were the leaders of his Warband. Even the thought of leading a Warband felt odd to Molly but he suppressed the feeling. Time for that later.

“From what I can see, we’ve got one of two choices.” Sir Nenthal said, pointing at the map. “We can try to prevent the two Warbands of Angband from linking up. Or we can try to go around one of them and get down to the southern villages.”

“Do we know that the southern villages have survived the attack?” Tanna asked.

Nenthal glared at Tanna clearly upset that she’d questioned his assertion. “Can we afford not to assume that they survived?”

“What news, Sir Fallaistra?” Molly asked.

The Knight moved up to the table. “Aye, my lord, they have. But the reports are not conclusive. The horde to the east of us has spread out and we’re having trouble getting scouts past them. The Warband to the west is dogging our trail and appears intent on bringing us to battle.”

Molly glanced down at the map and frowned. With forces to the east and west, and a bog to the south and mountains to the north there didn’t appear to be much choice. Logic dictated to hit the force to the east hard. Since they’d spread out if he concentrated his forces in one spot Molly should be able to push through the line and escape the trap. The he felt Kratos stir, *We’re missing something.*

‘I know.’ Molly thought looking down at the map. ‘What I wouldn’t give for a couple of satellites and a predator or two.’ Even if the dispersal of the army to the east was an opportunity, where should he strike the line? Molly felt another surge of frustration and wanted to lash out but knew it wouldn’t do any good. Besides seeing ones commander lose his temper wasn’t good for morale. Silence feel on the tent as the Elves watched Molly.

“I need more information.” Molly muttered and then turned to the tent door.

“My lord, where are you going?” Alion, the First-Spear, asked.

Molly paused and looked over his shoulder at the NCO. “I’m going to go out and look the situation over and then figure out our next move.”

Without waiting for a reply he moved out of the tent. The afternoon sun was trying to fight its way through the overcast and Molly wondered if the steady grey light was a product of the power of Morgoth or if it was just part of the natural weather pattern. Molly paused to look over the camp impressed with the organization of the Elves. The rows of tents were neat and orderly and the defensive perimeter with the palisade was in place. With a grunt of satisfaction Molly looked over at his Lieutenants, “I’ll be back in a few hours. While I’m gone Sir Fallaistra is in charge.”

Even though there wasn’t a visible reaction Molly could tell that Sir Nenthal wasn’t happy about it.

*Tough, Fallaistra has held command before and she’s obviously more experienced.* Kratos’ thought confirmed Molly’s judgment and he turned away. Even in an Army fighting for survival politics played a role.

“What do you plan to do my lord?” Alion asked.

Now Molly moved away from the rest of his Lieutenants and ignored Alion’s question. Instead Molly focused on the tattoo on his back. The Griffin, Boreas, was a full back tattoo and as soon as he reached for it Molly felt him twitch and move. Then he felt a fierce sense of satisfaction at being summoned. Molly let out a breath and tried to draw upon Boreas’ power and it was like a damn burst and energy flowed into him.

Molly threw back his head and screamed, the cry shifted and grew louder, higher pitched and clearer until it was more like the call of a giant eagle than that of a human. Liquid fire raced down his veins and for a minute Molly thought he’d be consumed by the power. Then Molly was falling forward onto all fours as a huge set of wings burst from his back. Cramps twisted his muscles and his skin writhed and stretched and changed. Molly felt his face push out and clutched at the ground with his front talons. Then the pain receded and Molly lifted his head to look around.

The Elves that had walked out of the tent with him looked much smaller than they should have and it took Molly a moment to realize he was now much bigger than before. He turned his head and discovered that he could almost turn it all the way around. This allowed him to take a look at his great black wings and tawny cat body. As Molly examined his new body he felt a sense of pride and happiness radiate from the Boreas. There were no words spoken into Molly’s mind like Kratos did, instead Molly could feel the Griffin’s emotions, its fierce pride, and a desire to hunt and to fly.

Molly keyed in on the desire to fly and his body crouched and then sprang into the air. In the lighter gravity the leap carried Molly further than he’d expected and then Molly sensed the Boreas pushing doing something with the magic in the world around. Molly snapped his wings up and down in a rhythmic beat and he rapidly climbed higher and higher. Then it occurred to Molly the Boreas could feel and manipulate the magic in the world and use it to fly. Higher and higher Molly climbed and he had no way of knowing how high he was but from this height and with his improved eye sight Molly could see the mountains to the north, the bog to the south, and the fires of the army of Gothmog in the west. Molly circled the camp as he continued to climb until some instinct told him that he was high enough.

Then Molly soared to the east. The second army of Morgoth was a problem. They didn’t know where they were and Molly suspected that the dark host wouldn’t have thought to take precautions against aerial observation. The flight east took about thirty minutes and then Molly spotted something moving in the forest below. His eyes instantly zoomed in on the movement and Molly spotted a troop of Orcs marching toward his Warband. Molly continued searching and discovered troop after troop. The Orc commander had obviously taken his army and dispersed it into a skirmish line. That line was several miles long and he planned to use it to find Molly’s forces.

Then behind the skirmish line Molly spotted the main body. This army easily outnumbered Molly’s force by five to one. Behind the main arm, a reserve force of Orc’s riding Wargs. The tactic was as obvious as it was simple, but effective. The skirmish line would find Molly’s forces and if possible fix their location. The main body would then orient on the Elves and move forward to attack and hopefully destroy them. The cavalry would support the main attack or if the skirmish line failed to fix the Elves the greater mobility of the cavalry would run them down and engage. Once the main army’s attack started the Elves would be done. If all of that failed all they had to do was hold Molly long enough for the army in the west to catch up and Molly would be caught between the two.

For a minute Molly thought about heading back to his Warband but then decided to look in on the other Elfish villages. It would be nice to know if they still existed or if they were already destroyed. It took almost an hour but when Molly descended into his camp he knew that so far the southern villages had escaped the fate of their northern counter parts. As Molly got closer he heard shouting and for a second thought he might catch an arrow or two, not that he was worried about it. Even the enchanted shafts didn’t concern him too much, Molly somehow knew that he didn’t have much to worry about.

He landed by his command tent and noticed that the guards were good enough to not draw weapons as they watched him. The tent flap opened and Fallaisra and Alion stepped out. Molly released his grip on the Griffin’s power and he could feel the mighty spirit sort of shrink and disappear into the back of his mind. As this happened Molly felt his body shifting, muscles and skin changing, and shrinking. The feeling of loss was intense there was an emptiness where there had been power only moments before. For a moment Molly thought about bringing the Griffin spirit forward and embracing the power. But he let it go. For now it was necessary to be a small two-leg. Then it was over and Molly shivered, naked, in the chilly night air.

Alion stepped forward and draped a cloak over Molly’s shoulders. “My lord, I’m pleased that you’re back. We were starting to get worried.”

“Ah, well, it’s good that you’re here. Summon my Lieutenants, we have to work quickly if we’re going to escape the trap before us.”

Current Situation: Logan and Molly, transformed by the Medallion and transported to Middle Earth are fighting for their lives. Separated by the tides of war they each face new challenges. Molly is forced to draw upon the skills and memories she gained from Logan and the power of the masculine spirit of a Maiar Knight who now shares her body as she leads the survivors of Nevrast in a desperate struggle against the forces of Angband. Logan having helped get the refugees of Lindornëa and Ilcanalta into Tumladen now face a new challenge, Elven politics. Guided by the female Maiar spirit Melchiresa, he must help convince King Turukáno that the Elves that defied him and stayed in Nevrast need to be saved.

Author Note:

1: This story is based on the Altered Fates Universe concept established by Jennifer Adams, however I’ve taken some artistic liberties so this story doesn’t strictly adhere to the rules Jennifer established.

2: This is also a fanfic of the J.R.R. Tolkien world of Middle Earth in an untold tale of the First Age. Please note; I didn’t stay completely true to the Middle Earth that Tolkien set up. This is my take on what Middle Earth in the First Age might have been like.

The Orc scout paused to sniff the air, after a minute he looked back at his partner and nodded. The unspoken communication told the second Orc that everything was fine. The pair moved forward slowly, cautious, yet knowing that they had to keep pace with the rest of the skirmish line or their sergeant would have them whipped. Then out of the dark a pair of arrows darted. The accuracy was eerily perfect as both Orcs were shot through the throat and collapsed in separate pools of blood. From the shadows formed by the trees Tanna Greenleaf and her partner, another slender female Elven archer, silently moved.

They paused at by the Orc scouts bodies long enough to make sure they were dead before continuing their deadly hunt. All up and down this section of the skirmish line the best Elven scouts were at work. Tanna felt a sense of urgency because she knew that not far behind her the main Elfish Warband was on the move. They, the scouts, were the key to the whole operation. Lord Sornohen had tasked them with clearing a hole in the Orc line without alerting the host.

Again and again that night Tanna proved that she was the best archer in Nevrast. Silently she killed with enough skill to cause her partner to wonder if she ever missed. Her slender bow was made of a white wood and recurved in a way most had never seen. Many an Elf had tried to draw the bow and failed. Yet when Tanna used it, it appeared to be effortless. She had once explained that her father had made it for her before he’d left Valinor, before she’d been born, and that she and the bow were friends.

By midnight the hole Lord Sornohen needed was done and Tanna moved further into the wood. The great bog was on her right and the eastern host of Angband was on her left. The night was quiet and the low overcast of clouds prevented starlight from reaching through the trees. Then Tanna paused cocking her head to one side. Through the trees, carried upon the night breeze, she heard a faint melody. The music was instantly mesmerizing and without looking at her companion she followed it. The two of them stumbled into a clearing and for a moment Tanna couldn’t comprehend what she was seeing.

There in the middle of the open area an Elven woman with long golden hair sat upon a cloak. Her legs were folded to one side and she was gently strumming upon a harp. The music was so beautiful, and disturbing, that Tanna didn’t notice that she’d moved to the edge of the cloak until she stopped walking.

The woman kept on playing, but asked, “You are a very skilled archer, child, tell me your name?”

“Tanna Greenleaf,” Tanna was surprised to hear her own voice. She hadn’t tried to speak yet the words had tumbled out.

“Tanna Greenleaf,” the woman said, as if tasting the name. “What is your role within the Elfish Warband, Tanna?”

“I’m the chief of scouts and archers for my Lord Sornohen et Maiar.”

There was a shifting within the woman’s posture and she patted the ground next to her. “Come, Tanna, sit down, we have much to talk about.”

Tanna started to move forward and then her eyes met the woman’s and Tanna saw that instead of normal eyes the woman’s appeared to be windows into a furnace filled with fire. Then she dropped her eyes and settled to the ground next the harper. The woman then looked up at Tanna’s partner, “Sleep child, I need to have words with your leader.”

The second Elf without a word settled to the ground and closed her eyes, and was fast asleep within minutes. There was a part of Tanna that was alarmed at this and by the vision of the woman’s eyes she tried to stand up but her body refused to respond. She tried to speak but her lips remained closed.

“Now, child, I need to know everything you can remember about Sornohen et Maiar and everything about you and your role within the Warband.”

The Orc Warchief and Commander of the Warg-Riders, Xorag, stood on the ridge that gave him a good view of the host. Even though it was night, his vision was excellent and he could see that the host had slowly moved forward. It couldn’t afford to get too far behind the skirmish line, and if it got too close then it might not be able to move north or south fast enough to engage the enemy, depending on where Elfish force was hiding. Xorag had to maintain his position as well, relative to the main host. Once they engaged the Elves he would circle them and hit them from either flank. Of course a Warg-Rider could cover far more ground than an Orc, so he didn’t need to be as close to the host. For a moment he thought about giving the command to mount up and move forward but he know this was just his desire to be doing something, waiting went against his nature.

Suddenly the sound of hooves filled the air and Xorag spun around to see what was going on. From the tree line burst an Elven Knight followed by another and another. In a few seconds more than a hundred Knights appeared charging toward the Orc cavalry. Xorag knew that this was impossible. The Elven Warband had been trapped between Gothmog’s army in the west and Kâlraug’s force in the east. It was impossible for a Warband to be east of Xorag’s Warg cavalry, yet there was no denying what his eyes saw. Then the Knights were upon them.

Xorag leapt into the saddle of his Warg and blew the horn attached to his saddle by a thread of leather made from Elf-hide. The Warg cavalry might have lacked discipline but they made up for it in speed and a sense of self preservation. Before the Elfish Knights had gotten much beyond the outer line of riders, the Warg cavalry were in the saddle moving to engage the Elves. Xorag felt his pulse race, by his estimation there were about two hundred Knights facing his Riders, the odds were ten to one in his favor! He bellowed his war-cry and charged the leader of the knights. A She-Elf, in golden armor with a red tabard and she practically glowed with power and vitality.

The momentum of the charge had dissipated and before Xorag could reach her the leader of the Elves lifted a bugle to her lips and blew a loud clear blast. The cavalry wheeled about and disengaged from the numerically superior Warg-Riders with an enviable skill. The Orcs had been taken by surprise and had reeled back in fear, but that fear had quickly turned to rage and they’d rallied against the Elves. Now that the Elves were in retreat, that rage turned to glee and the shout went up to give chase. Xorag put his heels to his Warg and swung his long handled war-ax in a circle over his head before pointing it at the fleeing Elves and gave the order to pursue them.

Molly watched as the force of Knights approached. Sir Fallaistra led the way with her Knights following closely behind. Even with Elfish vision most of the Warband would have trouble seeing them at this distance, in the dark, but ever since Molly had learned how to embrace his Griffin nature his vision had improved and seeing in the dark had become simple. Sir Fallaistra was leading her knights up a dry streambed at a breakneck speed.

Running their horse through the forest was difficult and the Warg-Riders held a huge advantage. But the dry stream bed allowed Sir Fallaistra to take advantage of the full speed of her Elven-steeds and to open the gap between them and the Wargs. The streambed ran between a pair of low ridges. Obviously during the rainy season the stream had cut a path through the land to the bog at the center of Nevrast. Then from the forest behind Fallaistra the first of the Warg-Riders burst into view.

As the Knights followed the streambed the banks rose higher and became steeper until they’d formed a pair of steep cliff like ridges to either side. The stream got narrower as the sides got steeper and the Knights were forced into a tighter formation as they pulled away from the Warg-Riders.

Abruptly, Molly embraced Kratos spirit and felt his bones shift and grow. Armor appeared out of nowhere covering Molly in a layer of protection. The change took a few seconds and once done Molly drew his sword and pointed it to a spot over the draw where the Warg-Riders were still chasing the Elves and unleashed his power. A spark of light leapt from the tip of his Gladius and raced up into the night air above the Orcs. When it reached its apex over the Orcs it burst into a ball of white hot flame just over a foot in diameter. The light was bright enough to be seen for miles and the Elven Archers stationed along either side of the streambed, seeing the signal, let fly with a volley of white fletched arrows.

The Orcs were taken completely by surprise, blinded by the light, and in that moment they hesitated. The led riders died under a storm of arrows. Then horns sounded at the far end of the draw and Molly with his superior vision saw the Elfish infantry move into position to close off the Orcs line of retreat. The archers continued to ply their deadly craft upon the Orcs who were stalled, confused, and unsure what to do. The draw was so narrow at this point that the Warg Cavalry where pressed nearly shoulder to shoulder making them easy targets for the archers.

The Elfish cavalry had now passed Molly at the upper end of the draw and Molly moved forward bringing with him the rest of the infantry. The slope down to where the Orcs were trapped in the dry streambed was enough to add momentum to Molly’s charge. Then he was upon them and through their line. The Elfish infantry hurried to keep up, but Molly didn’t care. The Orcs couldn’t stand the pressure from the archers and Molly’s charge and Xorag sounded the retreat.

They started to fall back moving down the draw when the main force of Molly’s infantry hit them from behind. Now panic set in and the Orcs tried to climb the sides of the draw. The sides at this point were like cliffs and the archers along the top took full advantage of this fact. A few of the Orcs made it to the top but they were cut down ruthlessly by the defenders. In an act of brave desperation Xorag charged forward. His battle ax took the lives of a pair of Elves before he faced Molly.

Undaunted by the glowing power he faced Xorag swung an over hand strike at Molly’s head while Kîr, his Warg, lunged at Molly’s leg. Molly blocked the ax with his Gladius and stepped back quickly so that Kîr’s fangs snapped uselessly.

“Throw down your weapons spawn of Morgoth and I will let you live.”

Xorag’s snarl sounded almost identical to Kîr’s as they both attacked. This time Molly reversed his move, blocking the ax with his shield so that he could bring his Gladius down in a might sweeping cut. The blow passed through Kîr’s neck and sent Xorag tumbling to one side as the giant wolf died. Xorag stumbled to his feet just as Molly stomp-kicked him in the chest. The Orc War-Chief was thrown back and he lost his grip on his ax. He rolled onto all fours trying to get up and draw his scimitar and then the pommel of Molly’s sword made contact with his neck and he knew no more.

Molly looked out over the field of battle, ‘if you could call it that,’ he thought, ‘more like a slaughter house,’ and almost felt bad for the Orcs. The trap had worked to perfection and with the Warg Cavalry gone the army of Morgoth didn’t have a force that was capable of running the Elves down. Now Molly could out maneuver the enemy at will and choose the ground for each engagement. The strategic advantage he’d just won was something he wondered if his opponent would fully appreciate. ‘Well, no matter, before the summer is over he will!’ Molly thought.

“My Lord Sornohen?”

Molly continued to look out over the draw, he’d heard her approach and by now he was familiar with her scent and didn’t need to look. Boreas had improved all five of Molly’s senses and he was becoming more and more used to using them.

“Yes, Sir Fallaistra, what is it?”

“The cavalry cleared the draw and I’ve sent them forward to screen our movement. As you ordered.”

“Excellent.”

Molly looked over at Fallaistra. Her armor still glowed softly as she started to bank her power. Just then the light Molly had summoned failed and darkness descended upon them.

“What is it?”

“Forgive me, my lord, it’s just . . .” she paused to collect herself, “I’ve fought the forces of Morgoth before, but never have I seen such a slaughter. I doubt we lost a score yet, unless I’m mistaken, the entire Warg Cavalry has been annihilated.”

Molly turned to look down at the draw. Orc and Wag bodies had died in such close proximity that they lay, piled on top of each other and the dry streambed now ran with their black blood. Molly wondered briefly how far downstream the blood would flow before it dried up.

“That was the idea, Fallaistra.”

“I had assumed, due to your name that you are a disciple of Manwë for your eyesight is keen and you can take the shape of a mighty beast of the sky. But after seeing this, I now understand, you must be of the House of Tulkas. Only one who has studied with the Champion of the Valar could bring such ruin upon Morgoth’s forces.”

Molly let out a sigh and had to suppress the desire to tell Fallaistra that he had no idea what she was going on about. Instead he let go of Kratos and felt his body shift, shrinking as his armor disappeared. In a few seconds he was naked and was startled to realize that his manhood was engorged. At this Molly heard Kratos chuckle in the back of his mind.

*Nothing like a good fight to get the blood up!*

For a second Molly wanted to cover himself with his hands but his male pride wouldn’t allow it. Then Fallaistra handed him the cloak he’d discarded at the start of the battle. Their hands touched and Molly was suddenly very aware that Fallaistra was a beautiful female. He had a brief image in his mind’s eye to throw her to the ground and take her, here on the field of battle for all to see. Molly felt Kratos urging him to act, it was an ancient rite of victory to make a son on the field where you’d slain your enemies.

*Our sons will be fine and strong.*

Molly pushed back the compulsion and ignored Kratos, but when he looked down at Fallaistra Molly saw that some of what he’d been thinking must have shown on his face because the look she gave him said that such an act wasn’t unwelcome.

“Send someone to find the First-Spear. I want to have our forces moving within half an hour.”

Fallaistra saluted and as she turned to go Molly added, “Oh, and let Tanna Greenleaf know I need to speak with her.”

“Aye, M’Lord.”

As Fallaistra walked away Molly couldn’t resist watching her shapely figure and he wondered what it would feel like to run his hands over her smooth backside, to grip it with both hands and bury his cock to the hilt in her. He took a half step forward and felt Boreas come awake watching the eligible female. The Griffin’s thoughts weren’t sophisticated, he was male, Fallaistra was female, and mating was a natural and appropriate act. ‘Not you too!’ Molly thought and forced the male aspects into the back of his mind, he had work to do.

Dawn had come before Molly had allowed his army to set up camp. The Elves dropped gratefully to the ground but Alion, the first spear, and Molly had moved among them getting the tired warriors to set up camp before resting. The night had been long, first the forced march through the enemy lines. Then the battle with the Warg-Riders and finally the second march. Molly knew his Warband needed rest. But he also knew that they needed to get leagues between them and the enemy before he allowed it.

“Cap’n we’re settled in, you should rest.”

Molly glanced over at Alion. The old warrior had a fresh looking cut along one cheek and he looked tired.

“I’m not the only one.”

“Aye, once the watch is set I’ll settle down for a nap.”

“I suppose that your right.”

Molly moved to the center of the camp and his tent, he felt tired but not as tired as he should have. Somehow he knew that it was vitality that came from Kratos and Griffin. Even in his human form he could feel the power of the tattoos flowing into him. If he had to, Molly knew, he could continue for days without rest. Well, there were maps in his tent, he’d take a look at them and then maybe a quick flight to scout out the enemy’s position.

Already thinking about his next move Molly opened the flap to his tent and stepped into the dimly light interior. As he did he caught the scent of Tanna, just before she stood up.

“My lord, I understand you needed to speak with me?”

Molly let the tent flap drop and stepped in, “Yes, I need you to divide the scouts and archers into two groups. One will be my eyes and ears the other must start hunting Orc scouts.” Tanna moved closer to Molly he became very aware of how attractive she was and Molly felt his new appendage grow hard. Trying to ignore his body Molly continued, “Now that we can out maneuver the enemy our next task is to blind him.”

Tanna was now standing only a foot from Molly he realized that she’d taken off her armor. She still wore the green of a scout and archer but the thin fabric seemed like a fragile barrier. Tanna looked up at Molly had her eyes seemed to smolder with desire.

“Yes, my lord. Shall I lead the hunters and or would you prefer to . . . keep me close to you?”

Molly stepped closer and reached down to tilt Tanna’s chin up, “Cainir.” The name came out with a gravelly sort of sound and Molly tried to clear his voice of desire, “He can lead the hunters, he is a skilled ranger and is used to this sort of work. Hunting Orcs in the wild.”

Tanna lifted a hand up to touch Molly’s cheek and he felt a spark and then desire for this woman drove almost all thoughts from his mind. He leaned down and kissed her. The kiss seemed to go on and on and a part of Molly’s mind said this was wrong! He was a woman, not a man, but that part was drowned out by the raw power of the masculine need. The need to dominate, to control, to take this delectable female and thrust into her inner softness to dominate and own her. Molly leaned back and he could hear Tanna practically purring with pleasure. Again Molly’s mind rebelled he was a girl, this was wrong! There was an almost silent chuckle from Kratos, *Lad, you are no more female than a stallion, now take that woman!* the rampant member in Molly’s trousers was now impossible to ignore.

Then Tanna reached down to stroke his cock through his trousers, “What does my lord intend to do with me?”

Abruptly Molly gave in, the needs of his body were too much to ignore and Tanna’s brazen desire had turned the flame in Molly’s blood into a full blaze. Molly scooped Tanna up and carried her to the blankets set on the ground near the back of the tent.

“Oh, aye, I plan to keep you very close!”

Logan tried to brush her hair out of her eyes and couldn’t help staring. They’d been riding since an hour after sunrise and even though they were still in the pass the trail had just turned and now Logan for the first time could see the valley below. The Valley of Tumladen stretched out in front of her green and flat with small streams crisscrossing the verdant plain. Even at this height she couldn’t see the far side of the valley. At the edge of her vision, shining white upon the only hill in the valley, the morning sunlight fell upon a city with tall buildings made of a white stone.

“Ondolindë, the city of fountains,” Narmartë said, moving over next to Logan. “It is also called Gondobar or Gondothlimbar, the city of stone and the city of the Dwellers in Stone; some of have called it Gwarestrin, the Tower of the Guard, and Gar-Thurion, the Secret Place for the city is hidden from Morgoth. But these days it is commonly known in Sindarian as Gondolin the Stone of Song.” Narmartë’s voice had taken on a strange quality, filled with a raw emotion, and Logan looked over at her. But Narmartë was looking out at the city, “It is said that King Turgon fashioned it after Tirion the city of the Valar in Valinor itself.”

“King Turgon?”

At this Narmartë seemed to come back to herself and look over at Logan, “King Turukáno’s Sindarian name is Turgon.”

Logan nodded happy to have Narmartë talking again. Dinner last night had been awkward. Narmartë and Penlod had obviously wanted to be by themselves yet they’d refused both Logan and Ronir’s attempts to leave insisting that they share a meal. When dinner was over Sir Ronir had offered to escort Logan back to the Inn. Logan had quickly accepted and as they’d left she was keenly aware that neither Narmartë nor Penlod were really aware of their departure. Ronir, as it turned out, was an excellent companion. The night had been young enough to spend a few minutes walking around the town and Logan had learned a bit of its history and that of the guard, and the gates that protected the valley from Morgoth’s forces.

As they’d walked through the town Logan wondered if this was what it felt like for a girl to go on her first date. Her heart fluttered and raced and she found herself laughing, even when Ronir’s jokes weren’t all that funny. By the time they’d returned to the inn Sir Ronir was holding Logan’s hand and Logan could have sworn that her feet didn’t need to touch the ground. He’d left her with the promise to see her again before dawn. When Logan had asked why, Ronir had told her that they’d all been summoned to the palace.

Logan had met Narmartë the next morning in the common room for a quick breakfast of fruit, bread, and cheese and Narmartë had been very quiet up until now. Logan wasn’t sure what had happened but she was sure that whatever it was it had been a life changing moment for her. Seeing that Narmartë was talking Logan took advantage of the opportunity.

“What is King Turgon like? Will he provide forces to help in the defense of Nevrast?”

At this Narmartë looked over at Logan and then shook her head. “I don’t know. All of us, those who stayed in Nevrast, did so knowing that we were on our own. The King wanted all of his folk to take up residence in Tumladen and was upset with any who stayed.”

“But I thought you were presented at court?”

“Yes, my family came with the King into Tumladen, but many of my kin did not. We traveled from time to time out into Nevrast to visit. It was on one of those trips that my parents were ambushed and slain. After that I chose to revenge myself upon the Orc’s of Angband by serving as a Ranger in Nevrast under my kinsman Sir Helcëtôr’s command.”

Narmartë’s voice trailed off and for a time they continued in silence. The trail up into the pass had been very narrow at times and filled with switchbacks. Now that they were through the pass it widened out and was much easier going. By the time the sun had climbed to its peak they were out of it and upon the flat plain. Now Logan looked around in awe. The road was made of white stone and ran straight toward the city. The streams she’d spotted earlier crisscrossed the fields bringing water to the farmers before running into a large lake at the foot of the hill.

Logan didn’t have Molly’s eyesight but she was surprised at how large the valley was when Narmartë informed her that they’d be stopping at an Inn for the night and that they would be traveling all day tomorrow and not arrive until noon on the day after. The mountains had been cold and Logan had learned to draw upon her power over fire to heat herself but now that she was in the valley the air was warm and filled with the rich scents of growing things.

They made good time along the great road and as they passed small villages or individual houses the elves dwelling in the valley paused to wave and call out to them. The openness and expressions of contentment told Logan that these Elves were isolated from what was going on out in Nevrast. It made her wonder how they would react if they knew that their kin were being slaughtered. Somehow Logan doubted that the King was ignorant of events in the outer world. By the time they stopped for the night Logan felt her unease turn into a sense of foreboding. She didn’t know what was going on with Molly but she felt that he was in danger. Whatever he’d gotten up to she knew that Molly must be in the thick of the fighting and here she was, safe, playing at being the perfect little lady. Molly’s dad, Richard, had hired her to keep Molly safe and at the moment Logan was failing at that task.

Logan looked into the mirror still a bit surprised at the red-haired beauty that looked back. Molly was a beautiful woman and now that Logan wore her body she was as well. Logan figured that she’d have gotten used to the image by now if there had been more mirrors since she no longer noticed the movement of her breasts as she walked. In fact her body felt so normal and natural that she was having trouble remembering what it felt like to be a man.

Two and a half days in the saddle should have left her feeling tired but the vitality that Melchiresa poured into her had washed away the fatigue. Logan looked at the green silk dress and ran her hands over the gossamer material, a gift from Narmartë after they’d arrived at the palace. Attendants had shown Logan to a room with a large tub and even though she wasn’t tired the bath had been an almost decadent luxury.

Now, clean and dressed in silk the battle going on in Nevrast seemed like a world away. The King had to be convinced to help. Logan could tell that Narmartë was worried. During the trip to Gondolin Narmartë had explained that requests for aid had been denied in the past. Logan hadn’t told Narmartë what she planned to do, but she knew that she had to do everything she could to help Molly and the Elves in Nevrast. ‘Let’s see if the King can turn down one of the Maiar.’ she thought. Then Logan reached for Melchiresa’s power and felt it spread from the tattoo on her back flowing forward shifting Logan’s flesh. At the same time Logan managed to control the change so that she only gained a couple of inches although the front of the dress was now stretched tight across Logan’s much larger chest.

*Hmmmm . . . Green looks good on us.*

“Yes, it does.”

Logan turned to check out her profile the long black hair didn’t hid the small silver horns and Melchiresa’s magic had altered the outfit so that her wings now had a pair of holes in the back of the dress.

“Yes, let’s see the king ignore us now.”

Just then a bell tinkled and Logan knew that someone was at the door. She crossed the room her boots made a harsh click-clack but she knew this would only add to the Elves perception that she came from beyond this world. When Logan opened the door she saw Narmartë in a long blue dress and next to her stood Penlod and Ronir both wearing coats with tall collars looking very solider like in their dress uniforms.

Penlod’s indrawn breath was a sharp response to Logan’s unexpected appearance. Rather than wait for the question Logan spoke first. “I believe that you said it is important we make an impression on the King. Let him see me in my Maiar form and then decide if he won’t hear our plea.”

The two men seemed a little stunned by Logan’s comment but Narmartë giggled and slid an arm through Logan’s.

“Yes, let us see what the King will say.”

They swept past the two speechless males and Narmartë said over one shoulder, “Close your mouths my lords, one would think that you’d never seen a Lady of the Maiar before.”

The men helplessly exchanged a look before Penlod whispered, “I don’t know about you Ronir, but I’ve never seen a Maiar before.”

At this Ronir chuckled and turned to follow the ladies, “I have the advantage, sir, I saw Lady Ilcaúrna before. But it was on the field of battle as she slew a Balrog.” Ronir shook his head, “I had no idea what she looked like when not in battle. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful in my life.”

Penlod clapped Ronir on the shoulder and the two men hurried to catch up. They were almost to the throne room by the time Penlod and Ronir took up positions to either side of the Ladies. By the doors was a pair of guards in silver armor with blue tabards. Their tall helms had white wings flowing to either side making them seem even taller than they already were.

The Kings Guard opened the tall silver doors and when the four stepped in a Herald announced in a loud voice.

“My Lords and Ladies, Your Majesty, my I present, my Lord Penlod, Thlim Climbol and his betrothed the Lady Narmartë Thlim Ith Mindon, and Sir Ronir Thlim Climbol, Captain of the Ilcanalta Guards.”

There was a low murmur among the small group of nobles in the throne room as the Herald paused for breath.

“It is my great honor to present the Lady Ilcaúrna et Maiar to your majesty.”

This time the voices were more than a low murmur and the Logan saw the Elf at the far end of the hall, sitting upon a tall chair of white wood and mithril silver, held up a hand. Silence swept down upon the nobles and as if on cue the four approached the throne. As they did Logan saw that he was tall, taller than her, unless she embraced Melchiresa’s full power. A silver crown rested on his long golden hair and Logan though this had to be the most handsome man she’d ever seen. Melchiresa stirred and hummed her agreement.

*Can we play with him?*

‘No, now be quiet.’

By this time they’d reached the Diaz and Sir Ronir took a knee pressing the knuckles of his right hand to the marble floor while bowing his head. Narmartë offered a deep curtsey while Penlod bowed deeply. Some instinct told Logan to meet King Turgon’s gaze and when she did she saw that they smoldered with a sapphire fire as clear and clean as the frozen north.

“My Lord’s and Lady’s please rise.” King Turgon’s voice was like music on a summer night. Even though he was speaking to Logan’s companions his gaze never left Logan. Then he stood up and slowly, gracefully, made his way down the steps stopping only a few feet from Logan. Then he bowed.

“My Lady Ilcaúrna, to long has it been since my eyes have been graced by the sight of one of the Maiar. Please be welcome in my humble hall.”

“My Lord, King Turgon, thank you. But it is with terrible tidings I come before you this day, for even as we speak the forces of the enemy are burning Nevrast and killing your kin.”

When Logan spoke she could tell that her news didn’t come as a surprise to the King but the sound of in-drawn breath from the nobles watching told him that most of them hadn’t known.

“Aye, my lady, ill tidings indeed. Yet, I am aware. To that end,” he paused looking at Penlod, “I command My Lord Penlod. Take House Climbol and House Ith Mindon and go forth and rescue our kin.”

“My Lord,” Penlod spoke a note of confusion in his voice, “I am the Lord of House Climbol, but Sir Helcëtôr Thlim Ith Mindon has fallen upon the field of honor. The rightful heir to Ith Mindon is my lady Narmartë.”

At this the King smiled, “And are you not betrothed to lady Narmartë?”

“Aye, my lord.”

As he said it Logan felt the atmosphere within the room changed. A surge of excitement filled the air as the gathered nobles watched their King. The King turned to Narmartë, “Lady Narmartë do you intend to honor your vows and wed Sir Penlod?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Then I see no reason to wait. Penlod take Narmartë’s hand.”

Logan moved to one side as it dawned on her what was about to happen. Penlod turned to face Narmartë and took her hand in his and the King laid his hand upon their hands.

“My lady Narmartë, I have loved you since the first day we met. I vow to honor you, love you, and stand by you until death part’s us.”

Narmartë looked stunning in her blue gown as she looked up at Penlod, “My Lord, I too have loved you since the day you challenged me to a race. My horse may have won the contest but on that day you won my heart. I am yours now and forever until Arda is no more.”

The simple vows said in voices filled with love shook something inside of Logan. A part of her that had been hard as stone, locked away deep inside, kept safe during all her years of combat. That hard place sort of melted and she felt tears leak down her cheeks. The power of the couple was such that as they spoke they were illuminated by a soft radiance and then it was the King’s turn.

“I have heard your vows and all present bear witness. Under the light and by the grace of Manwë and Varda I declare that you are wed. Your Houses are joined. May you prosper under the light for all time.”

As the King finished speaking there was a sort of ripple and power flowed out from the three and when it passed over Logan she knew that she’d beheld something very special. Logan felt her own power flare up as if to say that she to bore witness to the oath.

King Turgon looked out at the nobles and smiled at them and Logan felt her heart leap at his beauty. “Let us prepare a feast in honor of our newlyweds. Tomorrow we send out the red arrow and gather the People for War, but tonight we celebrate!”

Current Situation: Things have gotten complicated for Logan now in the heart of Tumladen. The charisma of King Turukáno and his bond with Melchiresa is causing him to struggle to maintain his male identity. Meanwhile Molly has begun to embrace her raw masculine power. As the campaign drags on Gothmog, the enemy commander, will push her to them limit because Morgoth has ordered him to destroy Nevrast!

<p>Author Note:

1: This story is based on the Altered Fates Universe concept established by Jennifer Adams, however I’ve taken some artistic liberties so this story doesn’t strictly adhere to the rules Jennifer established.

2: This is also a fanfic of the J.R.R. Tolkien world of Middle Earth in an untold tale of the First Age. Please note; I didn’t stay completely true to the Middle Earth that Tolkien set up. This is my take on what Middle Earth in the First Age might have been like.

***************************************

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“A Plan Never Survives First Contact . . .”

***************************************

Molly shifted back to human form just as he landed. The phasing between his three shapes had gotten easier and easier over the last couple of weeks.

“My Lord,” Sadron held out a robe and Molly took it, although he was no longer embarrassed to be seen naked. Logan’s human body had been quite handsome and even flaccid Molly knew his cock was nothing to be embarrassed about. But the Elves had a sense of propriety and walking about naked was considered ill mannered, even if no one would say anything to him.

“Thank you, Sadron.”

The thin elf stepped back, “The scouts have not returned yet, but Sir Cainir has returned and awaits your pleasure.”

Molly moved past his new Aide-de-Camp toward his command tent. One of two guards standing to the side lifted the tent flap so Molly could enter. The bright red gauntlet flashed as he did and Molly had to suppress a surge of annoyance. A week ago a strange twisted creature, sort of like a cross between an Orc and a Goblin and infiltrated the camp and made it into Molly’s tent. Molly had caught his scent and then heard him enter and killed him easily. However, the attempt on his life caused Molly’s Captains to call for volunteers. Now Molly had his own Personal-Guard, the ‘Red Arms’ they were called. Or at least that’s what Tanna had told him. Once they were accepted into his guard their gauntlets were stained red with a special dye. It wasn’t that having Guards was a bad thing, it was just that now he was watched every minute of the day and it was unnecessary since he was more than able to take care of himself.

The thought of Tanna brought a quick smile to Molly’s face. He was forced to send her out on missions; she was the leader of his scouts, after all. But somehow she managed to do her duties and still spend at least half her nights in his tent. Molly felt a twitch in his groin as his now familiar and much appreciated organ did its thing. Tanna had shown Molly things about sex that he’d never dreamed possible. Molly looked back at Sadron dismissing all thought of Tanna’s sexy lithe little body from his mind.

“Bring me Sir Fallaistra, Sir Thanradon, Sir Nenthal, and the First Spear.” Then without waiting for a response from Sadron Molly entered the tent. If there was one thing Molly had learned about Sadron it was that the Elf was competent.

Cainir stood up from the canvas folding chair and gave Molly a quick salute and came to ridged attention, “My Lord.”

Molly wanted to groan, ‘Not you too,’ but he knew better. Or rather the part of him that was now Kratos knew better. The campaign over the last few weeks had turned into a series of running battles. Well, Molly and the Elves had done most of the running, and the Orcs some chasing. Somehow Molly had managed to out maneuver the host of Orcs and Trolls led by the Balrog Captains Gothmog and Kâlraug. Each engagement had caused Molly’s legend to grow because for every Elf lost nearly twenty of the foul beasts of Angband fell.

They’d also managed to keep the two hosts north of the bog and away from the last three Elfish villages to the south of the bog. That had been one of Molly’s campaign strategies. If the forces of Angband spent their time chasing him then they wouldn’t be sacking those villages.

“At ease Ranger.”

Molly moved past Cainir to the small table next to his bed. The table held a pitcher of water and a couple of glasses. Molly poured a glass and handed it to Cainir and poured one for him. As he did he tried to ignore the rumpled bed and the faint sent of sex and Tanna. She’d slept with him last night after reporting where the forces of Gothmog were.

“I know it’s just water, but to our success.”

“Aye, success.”

Both men drank and Molly walked over to the large table that dominated the room. On the table a map was spread out showing Nevrast.

“So, my friend, I’m glad to see you back in one piece.”

Cainir nodded and moved around to stand on the opposite side of the table. “Thanks, Lord Sornohen, I fear my mission was less than successful.”

Molly sighed, “Before you report, let’s wait for the other Captains to arrive. That way we can hear it all at once.”

Cainir nodded, “As you wish my lord, but I don’t have much to say. There were no forces in the area for us to hunt.”

Molly nodded, but before he could say anything the tent was opened by one of his Red Arms and Sir Fallaistra stepped in followed by Thanradon, Nenthal and Alion.

“My Lord Sornohen, you summoned us?”

“Yes, please gather around.”

The serious note in Molly’s voice drew the Elves to the map-table. “The situation is grave. Our reports on the position of Gothmog’s forces are erroneous. We know that yesterday they were reported here and here.”

Molly pointed to a place north of the bog and east of the burned village of Lindornëa. “I just returned from a reconnaissance flight and that information is wrong. Somehow they’ve slipped by us. There is a blocking force here.” Molly pointed to a location east of his forces. “They are situated on high ground and can move north or south to engage us if we try to slip around them.” Then Molly pointed to a spot east of the bog and just north of Lanthir. “The main force is here. Within a day they will be in a position to fall upon Lanthir.” At this his captains started muttering.

“How is that possible?” Sir Fallaistra asked. “Tanna’s scouts had them located just yesterday.”

Molly shook his head, “I don’t know. Tanna reported to me their location just last night. Either her scouts were deceived or Gothmog has a new way to move a host quickly.”

“This is a disaster. There’s no way we can stop Gothmog from destroying Lanthir.” Sir Thanradan noted. The other captains murmured agreement.

“You don’t seem that concerned.” Cainir noted looking at Molly. His comment caused the captains to quiet down.

Molly shrugged, “At some point Gothmog was going to figure out that his numerical advantage was being squandered chasing us. He can ignore us and move on to doing what I think Morgoth ordered him to do. Destroy the remaining Elven villages in Nevrast and search the area for clues to the hidden valley of Tumladen and Ondolindë.”

Molly pointed at Lanthir, “We have already succeeded in our first objective.”

“And what was that, my lord?” Alion asked a faint hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Molly couldn’t help grinning fiercely. “All of the civilians in Lanthir have left. They’ve been evacuated to the south and are now in the village of Rhovan.” Here Molly pointed to the southernmost village the one furthest from Gothmog’s forces. “The three remaining villages have sent all of their warriors to Lanthir. It is the most defensible of the remaining villages sitting as it does upon the southern bank of the Great Waterfall. Gothmog will have to fight over the river. Also the defenders are led by Sir Aglaron Thlim Duilin the son of Duilin. He and a company of archers from the House of the Swallow were out of Ondolindë on a training mission. They will hold Gothmog until we can arrive.”

“What of the blocking force?” Sir Fallaistra asked pointing to the second army.

“We will have to move quickly. We can’t get around them, but if we can draw them down here. We can destroy them in detail.” Molly pointed to a spot between the ridge where the second army of Angband stood and the Great-Bog. Then he started to lay out his plan. The staff meeting lasted for almost an hour before it broke up. Everyone filed out knowing that they had their work cut out for them. This next fight would be a tough one and the fate of Nevrast might rest on their success. The First Spear held back.

“A word my lord?”

“Sure, Alion, what’s on your mind? Are you concerned about the plan or the Elves?”

Alion waited until they were alone, “Neither my lord. The plan is bold, but I’ve watched you pull off the impossible for weeks. No, my question is why?”

Molly felt a grin form at the corners of his mouth as he looked at Alion. “Why what?”

“Why have you kept this from us? You’ve obviously been working toward this goal. Lanthir is a prize that once Gothmog realized he could take, he would fall upon. You’re using it as the bait in a trap. Why didn’t you share this with us?”

“You see more than most Alion. But you’re wrong. Lanthir is doomed. All three villages are doomed if Gothmog is smart. He is a powerful and skilled fighter but luckily for us he’s not wise in the way of battle. He seems to think that raw force will always win out. Unfortunately, with enough force, he’s mostly right.” Suddenly Molly felt tired. He moved to the canvas chair Cainir had used earlier and sat down. “Look closely at the map Alion,” Molly waived at the map-table.

Alion moved over and scowled down at it. “Yes?”

“The force left behind by Gothmog, it’s three times as large as ours and has the advantage of the high ground, and is defensive. In most situations those are impossible odds. Now, factor in, even if everything goes our way and we defeat them we could easily be mauled and in no condition to fight again for weeks.”

A look of comprehension dawned on Alion’s face.

“You see it?”

“This has all been a rouse within a rouse. Your dance with Gothmog was to occupy him and give time for the villages to get ready.”

Molly nodded, “Go on.”

“You knew that sooner or later Gothmog would grow tired of chasing us and realize that he should just march on the villages. And you wanted him to do that.”

“Yes, but only after I was ready.”

Alion pointed to Rhovan, “This was the key. By gathering as many women and children to Rhovan as you could they are ready and in a position to run.” He looked over at Molly, “That’s bloody brilliant. Gothmog will be focused on Lanthir and it will take him, what two three weeks to break it?”

“I’m hoping for ten days. If Sir Aglaron can give us ten days and then fall back to Laerorn it will have been successful.”

“We’re not really going to try to destroy the blocking force are we?”

“Of course we’ll try to destroy them. But we won’t be taking too many risks. That force is led by a Balrog named Kâlraug. He must be destroyed one way or another.”

Alion nodded, “But our true objective is to block them from moving west.”

Now Molly couldn’t help grinning. “True.”

Alion looked over at Molly, “You plan to have the survivors of the three villages flee around the west side of the Bog.”

“Yes,” Molly stood up and moved to the table. “A general must always understand the true objective. We are not here to destroy Gothmog’s army. As nice as that would be. We don’t have the forces for it. We are trying to save as many Elves as possible.”

Alion pointed, “We’re blocking the army led by Kâlraug so he can’t fall on the refugees as they escape into Tumladen.”

“And Sir Aglaron Thlim Duilin, is performing the same function in the east. His job is to slow Gothmog and destroy as much of his army as possible before falling back.”

“I understand, but why keep this from the Captains?” Now it was Molly’s turn to look troubled. Before he could answer Alion spoke up, “You fear we have a traitor?”

“That or a spy.”

“That’s preposterous. None of us would betray our kind to the vile forces of Morgoth!” The offended anger filled Alion’s voice.

Molly looked into his furious green eyes and said calmly, “Then explain the erroneous scouting reports? Or the fact that on two occasions when we had part of Gothmog’s army trapped they slipped out? The only way is for someone to be reporting my plans.” Molly shook his head, “You’ll have to trust me Alion, I will tell MY Captains what they need to know, when they need to know it, and not a moment before.”

Molly could tell that Alion wanted to argue but then he nodded. “Aye, my lord, I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand.”

Gothmog looked out at his army as it moved up toward the river and grinned in pleasure. The village of Lanthir was just over the swift moving river and from here Gothmog could hear the sound of the water fall just south of his position. There was no way the village could resist his army and he eagerly awaited the sacking of another Elfish settlement. For a second he was distracted by the thought of the Maiar scum Sornohen. That one had proved to be an able commander but he was no match for the cunning of the Valaraukar and if Alarukë did her work properly he would be destroyed soon.

Abruptly, Elfish War-horns blasted the night air. Then cries rang out as Elves positioned within the trees on this side of the river started shooting. ‘Impossible’ Gothmog thought, ‘they can’t have the numbers to oppose my crossing.’

Just then an Orc war-chief raced toward Gothmog, “My lord, there is a strong force of pointy ears in the trees. We are being slaughtered.”

Gothmog had to resist the urge to smash his fist into the Orc’s ugly face. “Order the Troll companies forward. Their thick hides will protect them from arrows and they can push the Elves back into the river.”

“Aye, my lord.”

The Orc raced away to obey and Gothmog looked up at the battlefield ahead of him. The last few weeks had taught him to hate surprises. He’d gotten used to them from the Maiar Captain, Sornohen, but this new development annoyed him. For a moment he considered entering the fight personally but he’d learned not to do that. The last time he’d tried to face Sornohen in person the cursed Maiar had out maneuvered him and he’d been unable to control his Army. The result had been Sornohen and the Elves escaping and he took a beating.

Gothmog watched as his Trolls moved forward and grinned. He didn’t have as many of the creatures as he’d wanted so he had to be careful when and where he used them. Applied properly they were a devastatingly powerful force. Once they disappeared into the trees Gothmog rubbed his hands together in glee, this should end the Elf threat on this side of the river. There was only one bridge and the Trolls were driving straight for it.

Gothmog turned to the closest Orc War-Chief, “Order the third and fifth companies forward. They are to take the bridge and hold it.”

The Orc growled something that sounded like a proper response and rushed off. Gothmog waited and then an explosion ripped the air. Frustrated at not knowing what was going on Gothmog turned to the Orc leader of his scouts.

“Find out what just happened!”

The Orc saluted and rushed off. Now Gothmog started pacing. Should he order more forces forward? He doubted the entire village had as many Elves as the number of Orcs he’d already committed to the assault. Then a second and third explosion ripped the air. Gothmog whirled around and was able to see the entire tree line for a half mile in either direction burst into flames!

“By the eight legs of Ungoliant! The Elves are burning trees!”

The sight was impossible but the flames licked higher and higher turning into a conflagration. Then the leader of the scouts rushed up to Gothmog.

“My lord, this was a trap!” The Orc stopped talking and quailed under Gothmog’s glare.

“Go on.”

The Elves in the woods fled to the bridge once the Trolls attacked. We pressed the advantage and they fought hard upon the bridge. Once we’d driven them almost all the way to the other side they set off some clever device and the whole bridge dropped into the water!”

Gothmog felt his body almost burst into flame but he resisted. He had learned that being goaded by his opponent into taking a rash action only resulted in additional losses.

“At least Trolls are good swimmers. Even if the Orcs are lost, my Trolls will come up on the far bank and teach the Elves a hard lesson. Continue!”

“Um,” the scout chief looked worried, “Yes, your worship, but the current is very strong here, close to the falls. My scouts tell me that only one or two Trolls made it out of the river the rest went over the fall.”

Gothmog felt the shadows swirl around him and the heat he kept banked inside almost burst out.

“Tell me the rest.”

“Just as the bridge went down the cursed Elves used some magic or device to set the woods to flame. All four companies were trapped and destroyed.”

Now the flames burst from Gothmog’s clothing him in shadow and fire and he grew in size. Once at his full height he reached out and slammed a mighty fist into the terrified Orc killing him at once. Then Gothmog moved forward into the inferno the forest on this side of the river had become.

“The Elves would never think to set the trees alight. This has to be the work of Sornohen! He is somehow working with the leader of this village.”

Even as Gothmog said it, even at the height of his rage, he felt a shiver of fear. This Maiar Commander was making him look like a fool and what was worse he was slowly running out of Orcs! Morgoth wouldn’t be pleased if he had to ask for more Orcs.

Molly looked down on the fighting and knew it was almost time. Just as he’d thought, the commander of the second army had kept to the hills. He’d sent a company of infantry to probe and to try to draw them down but they’d stayed in place. Now Sir Thanradon, Captain of Molly’s infantry, was pulling them back. It was the right decision. Molly was tempted to land in the empty field and transform into Kratos and challenge the Balrog commander to a duel. But now wasn’t the time. He needed this army to stay where it was. Every day it focused on him and his small Warband was a day that the refugees from the last three villages got closer to Tumladen.

Molly turned and flew to where his army waited. They had set up camp on a ridge across the shallow valley from the Orc and Troll army. The day they’d arrived the Orcs had probed their defenses and now Molly had returned the favor. The valley floor held testament to the exchanges in the form of the dead.

The sun was high in the sky when Molly landed next to the observation platform that had been raised on the hill near his command tent. Molly felt his body shift as he changed from Griffin to Kratos and then climbed to the top of the platform. One of the things that Molly had discovered was that he had some control over the size of his Kratos form. At the moment he stood just a hand over six feet. If he chose he could have shifted to his battle form at just under twelve feet tall. At that height and weight he wasn’t sure the platform, where his Captains watched the fight, could have supported his weight.

“They appear reluctant to leave their hill.” Sir Fallaistra noted.

“Orcs learn slowly, but I think we’ve taught them what happens when they chase us.” Sir Nenthal remarked dryly.

“What now my lord?” Cainir asked.

“We wait,” Molly answered. “You have command of the archers Cainir. Make sure they’re ready. Next they will try to send a force around our north flank. The land is steep and they will think to catch us by surprise. Put your archers with the best night vision there.” Molly felt Kratos stir and knew what he was suggesting without needing to hear it. “Sadron send a messenger to Sir Thanradon, I need a company of light infantry to go with Cainir’s archers. If the sally makes it to the top of the ridge the infantry will be needed to destroy them. Or at least hold so we can reinforce. We cannot allow them to turn our flank.”

“My Lord, I have new reports from the field.” Tanna Greenleaf said and Molly felt Kratos sort of twist within him trying to look at the lovely young Elf.

“Come with me Tanna, you can report in my tent. That way I can see the map.”

As the two left Molly felt sure that his Captains knew that after her report there would be another reason for the privacy of the tent. He also sensed they were happy for him and Tanna. The Guards saluted as Molly approached, their red-gauntlets flashing in the sun. He’d become so used to them that Molly hadn’t even thought about the pair of guards that had fallen in behind them as he and Tanna walked to the tent.

Once the tent closed behind him Molly felt Tanna’s hand circle his neck and he started to shift into his Logan body.

“No, my love, stay as you are.”

“Are you sure? This form is very strong. I don’t want to accidently hurt you.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me.” The whisper was soft and sexy and Molly felt his body respond. With a slight effort he made the armor disappear and his naked phallus was already at attention. Tanna dropped to her knees staring at the foot long monster.

“I can still change.” Molly said.

“Nonsense, I was just thinking what a beautiful cock you have.” Then Tanna took him into her mouth and Molly let out a small gasp. When he’d been the female Molly, he’d had sex. The first time had been awkward and painful. After that it got better but it had been nothing compared to this. The power of a male orgasm was mind shattering and his body recovered in seconds. He and Tanna had already spent an entire afternoon fucking and Molly knew that once the refugees were safe and he could withdraw from this fight he would go wherever Tanna wanted. Molly knew in that moment that he never wanted to go back to being female.

In the early darkness just after dusk Tanna moved through the Elfish camp. Her green and brown leathers hugged her body as she moved away from the command tent. Her entire body hummed with pleasure and Tanna felt the Song of Ainur burning through her like a wild fire. Sex with Sornohen was like having sex with a thunderstorm. The passion and power was elemental and Tanna realized that she never wanted it to stop. As this realization hit her she froze mid-stride. For as long as she could remember there was only one thing she’d wanted, power. Now, the desire for power was still there, but it had been replaced with another desire, pleasure. But not just her pleasure, she realized that she gained pleasure from making Sornohen happy. This realization left her shaken to her core. For the first time in her existence she realized that there was someone she cared about more than herself. Afte a few minutes she continued through the camp.

Judging that she was far enough from the encampment Tanna knelt down and quickly built a small fire. It was no more than a few twigs and branches but it was enough. She focused on the fire and in her mind a gate opened and she felt her Captain respond.

* Yes, Alarukë, at last, report. *

* My lord Gothmog, our forces remain held at bay by Kâlraug’s army. We cannot reach you before you destroy the remaining villages. *

There was a long pause. * Are you sure Alarukë? The defenders here are not fighting as the Nolder normally fight. Has Sornohen left your force to lead these? *

* No! I just left his tent. Sornohen et Maiar is here, right now, in this camp!*

Alarukë felt Gothmog’s concern but then he nodded, * Aye, keep an eye on him. If you can keep him in bed and away from the battlefield then so much the better. Oh, and Alarukë, if you can kill him. Please do! *

The words sent a chill through Alarukë but she dropped her head and responded, * As my lord, Gothmog, commands. *

After that the connection broke and the woman wearing Tanna’s form stood up. Full night had descended and yet she had no trouble seeing. Alarukë looked around and satisfied that she’d been unobserved moved through the forest to where her scouts would be waiting. As she walked she considered her feelings. At first seducing and killing Sornohen had seemed like a simple plan and then she’d met him.

In her millennia of life Alarukë had never met anyone like Sornohen. When she’d had sex with him she’d felt the world shift around her and now she realized that she no longer cared about power. She didn’t wish to return to Angband and serve Morgoth. All she wanted to do was lay upon a set of furs with the rain gently falling beyond the canvas of a tent while her lord pushed his mighty cock into her.

Tanna felt an ache in her groin and her nipples grew hard as she thought about Sornohen. In that moment she decided no matter what happened here after she would focus on helping Sornohen and to the abyss with Morgoth and Gothmog. Then Tanna arrived at the edge of the woods and saw the archers were engaged in repulsing the sally that Sornohen had predicted. She quickly moved forward pulling Tanna’s bow from her shoulder and joined the forces firing into the Orcs below.

Current situation: As Logan works to bring the Forces of Ondolindë to Molly’s aid the battle for Nevrast grows more desperate. Molly’s plan is working, yet she faces almost impossible odds; a numerically superior force and possibly treachery from within. Has Molly’s luck run out or will Logan arrive in time?

Author Note:

1: This story is based on the Altered Fates Universe concept established by Jennifer Adams, however I’ve taken some artistic liberties so this story doesn’t strictly adhere to the rules Jennifer established.

2: This is also a fanfic of the J.R.R. Tolkien world of Middle Earth in an untold tale of the First Age. Please note; I didn’t stay completely true to the Middle Earth that Tolkien set up. This is my take on what Middle Earth in the First Age might have been like.

Molly looked out over the battlefield and knew that this time his planning and luck had run out. Molly’s forces were trapped between the two armies of Orcs and outnumbered twenty to one. It had taken Gothmog a fortnight to break through Lanthir’s defenses and in his rage he’d set the village aflame. Molly had thought that he would pursue the defenders as they fell back. Instead, Gothmog had turned and rushed in a series of rapid forced marches toward Molly.

Inwardly, Molly cursed his own foolishness! He’d been so sure of Gothmog’s next action that he’d quit flying out to do aerial reconnaissance. Instead, he’d spent much of his time in the furs with Tanna because the fight between his army and Kâlraug’s had settled into a contest of probing each other’s forces and waiting. At the thought of the beautiful Elf Molly’s cock stirred and Molly wanted nothing more than to have that time back.

This morning Tanna’s scouts had reported that Gothmog’s army was north of his position and would be upon them in a few hours. Molly knew he had to flee even with the prepared defenses he couldn’t face both armies. As Molly tried to evacuate his forces Kâlraug had launched an assault. Molly had been forced to deal with that and while fighting it off Kâlraug had moved the rest of his force into a blocking position. Now the only chance was to fight through Kâlraug’s forces before Gothmog hit him from behind.

The river had cut a flat through the hills and that was where Molly’s infantry was currently engaged. Because of the terrain Molly wouldn’t be able to use his Calvary in the flanking strikes he’d have preferred. Instead, he focused on taking the ridge over the battle and using it with his archers to support the infantry. Tanna and Cainir were leading the assault and Molly had to suppress the flash of worry, ‘Tanna is a skilled fighter she’ll be safe,’ he thought. But Molly knew that it was a lie, unless he could get his army through Kâlraug’s none of them were safe. For a moment Molly considered taking his Griffin shape and dropping into the middle of the fight. He was sure that the power of that form would break the Orc line but if he left who would direct the battle? His second in command was Sir Fallaistra, and he’d given her the critical task of leading the Rearguard. If worse came to worse she would have to hold Gothmog until they escaped. If that happened Molly knew that Fallaistra and her entire force were doomed. He’d asked for volunteers for the duty and had to turn warriors away. Then the sounds of horns filled the air and Molly turned using his power to boost his eyesight.

“Damn!”

“My lord?” Alion asked.

“Gothmog’s lead elements are engaging Fallaistra’s force.”

With that Molly looked to the heights and even with his sight he couldn’t penetrate the dense foliage. He could hear the sounds of battle but it was taking too long. Molly sighed and looked over at Alion.

“First-Spear, I won’t lie, we are in a desperate spot.”

The old warrior nodded, “Aye, my lord.” In spite of his words Molly could feel his unshakeable confidence in him.

“I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.”

“I’ll bring up your guard.”

“No, that won’t be necessary.” Molly said grimly, “I have another task for them and you. I want you to gather the reserve, our remaining cavalry, and my guard. Watch the fight below and when the Orcs break commit all our forces to the breach. We must throw them into chaos and crack open the trap or we are all doomed.”

Alion nodded, “Aye my lord.”

“One more thing, when you sound the charge send word to Fallaistra to start her withdrawal. It’s time to roll the dice, Alion. We either win here or die.”

Alion saluted sharply, “As you command my lord.”

Molly turned toward the infantry and stripped out of the loose robe he’d been wearing. For a moment he could feel his cock, flaccid and heavy between his legs, and wished for an instant that he was using it on Tanna. Then Molly reached for Boreas and felt him respond. Power flooded Molly and his body shifted. The world shrank around him and everything came into sharper focus. Every sense felt supercharged.

Molly threw his head back and allowed all of his rage at being caught to ring out in the high pitched cry of a mighty eagle. Only no eagle could match the hunting cry of a Griffin in strength or clarity. Then Molly was climbing into the air, he didn’t climb to high, instead he covered the distance in seconds from his command post to the front lines and dove. As he did he drew in the air around him, hardening it, manipulating it, and filling it with power. Then he angled toward the front line where several Trolls had gathered in an effort to help the Orcs break through. When he landed it was with a tremendous concussive force and the Orcs in a twenty foot circle were thrown to the ground.

Molly lunged forward covering the distance to the closest Orc in an instant cutting him in half with a single snap of his jaws. Then a roar from one of the Trolls caught Molly’s attention. The creature was huge and was using what looked like a small tree for a club. It brought the club up and then down aiming for Molly’s head. Only Molly was faster than the Troll and jumped to one side. As the club hit the ground Molly lunged forward snapping his wings. Molly buried the talons of his front legs into the Troll’s shoulders and ripped out his throat with a precise slice from his beak.

The next several minutes turned into a blur of red rage as Molly spun and attacked in all directions and then a presence filled his mind. The being was at least twelve feet tall and clothed in shadow and flame. It moved through the army of Orc who scattered before its cloven hooves. One Orc proved too slow and was cut in half with a single blow from the mighty sword it carried.

“Fight me, Sornohen et Maiar! And Die!”

Molly didn’t have to think as Kratos surged forward within him. He felt his Griffin form melt away as he stood up and armor materialized around him. With a shield on his left arm Molly reached out with his right and a glowing trident appeared.

“By the Light and the Song of Ainur you will die by my hand this day!”

The Balrog, Kâlraug leapt forward swinging his great sword over his head and clasping it with both hands. Molly surged forward in the same instant and used his trident to catch the sword between the tines of the trident before Kâlraug had time to start his downward strike. Molly spun to the side twisting the trident and Kâlraug unable to stop his momentum stumbled forward losing his grip on his sword.

Alarukë raced through the trees, her scouts and Cainir and his rangers and archers followed in a loose line. For a moment Alarukë wished that she could shed her Tanna Greenleaf body and show her true dark glory to the Orcs that held the hill. But she knew better. Suddenly black arrows began to sleet into her force between the trees as Orc archers started shooting.

“Onward, for Nevrast and General Sornohen! Charge!”

Alarukë called on some of her power and she practically flew up the hill. As she raced ahead she began shooting. Using all of the grace and skill of a fallen Maiar every arrow seemed to find its mark. Then the first Orc jumped down from a tree where it had been hiding and tried to split her head open with a battle ax. Alarukë dodged to one side and fired an arrow at point blank range into its skull. Then Alarukë slung her bow and drew a pair of single sided short swords. With a cry that echoed through the woods she tore into the Orcs in front of her. Even while she was fighting she kept track of her force. They had followed her lead and Cainir was the next person into the Orc line. He’d slung his bow and was using a small round shield and a broad sword with wicked skill. For a moment Alarukë understood what the Maiar saw in the Quenderin, such was his beauty and skill.

Now more and more of the Elven rangers were moving among the Orcs. For a time it seemed like the Elves couldn’t win. The skill and power of the Quenderin was more than that of a dozen Orcs but they were outnumbered fifteen to one. Then a roar and crashing sound echoed through the trees as a pair of Trolls charged forward.

For a moment Alarukë felt despair well up a Troll was no match for her power, even a pair of Trolls. But it would take her a few minutes to destroy them and the battle hung on a knife edge. She could kill them quicker if she unleashed her true power but then Cainir and the Elves with her would knew her nature.

With a shout Alarukë leapt toward the first Troll.

Sir Fallaistra cursed as the line of Orcs washed over her first defensive position. Every Elf in the line took a dozen Orcs down before he or she fell. Yet it wasn’t enough.

“Loose!”

The single company of archers that General Sornohen had given her fired at once and the deadly rain of Elven arrows instantly took its toll. The respite in the attack allowed her infantry to pull back from the waist high pile of earth they’d hastily erected.

“Again!”

The second volley of arrows was as devastating as the first and Sir Fallaistra saw that the infantry would make it to the second barricade. For an instant she felt nothing but pride in the fighting power of her people. Elves as a rule didn’t like to fight. They enjoyed many other pursuits in their long lives, but today her people were giving a good accounting.

The narrow river flat she’d chosen to make her stand was perfectly suited for defense. To her right the river had cut a deep bed through the land, it was almost a twenty foot fall into the rushing water below. The flood plain that she stood on was quite flat but to her left the steep bluff protected her flank. The only way that Gothmog could come at her was from the front. The problem was that he had enough numbers to wear her down. ‘Come on Sornohen, break that bastard and sound the horn or we are all going to die here!’ she thought.

There was a roar from within the black horde and a squad of Trolls crashed forward. Sir Fallaistra gave the signal and her company of Knights raced to meet them. They leapt the barricade in an amazing display of athleticism and horsemanship and plowed into the Trolls before they’d made it halfway through the no man’s land between the first and second barricade. Sir Fallaistra’s heart nearly broke as she watched her friends and countrymen throw back the Trolls.

“So many dead . . . we can’t take much more of this.”

She’d spoken softly and her face was like stone. As the commander of the rear guard it was her job to buy Sornohen every second she could. Showing fear or sorrow would only weaken the resolve of her soldiers. She watched as the half dozen Knights passed through her line.

“So many dead . . .”

Molly ducked the ax blow and slammed his shield into the Balrog’s chest. He felt the power of all three tattoos blazing in him and knew that he was now glowing with a red and gold aura. The darkness that covered Kâlraug cushioned the blow and protected the Balrog who was now fighting with a pair of matching hand axes. Molly sensed more than saw the swing toward her ankle but rather than step back he moved forward trusting the greave.

It was a move Kâlraug hadn’t expected and Molly managed to jam the strike by catching the ax shaft against his greave. Kâlraug stumbled to the left and Molly lunged forward on a highline attack. Kâlraug brought up his ax to block it and Molly drove a stomp kick into his chest. This time even though he felt the shadows act to absorb the impact it was not enough and he lifted Kâlraug off his feet and threw him back a dozen yards.

For a second Molly had the opportunity to look around. He was now completely surrounded by Orcs. Yet such was the power he and Kâlraug wielded that they had pulled back leaving a wide open space for the duel. Then Molly realized that up and down the line Orcs and Elves had pulled back to watch this fight. He wanted to scream, ‘No damn you, attack! We have to break them.’ But he knew it would do no good, until this fight was over both sides would watch. For a second he wondered how the fight on the hill was going and if Fallaistra had engaged the enemy yet. Then Kâlraug was on his feet and snarling curses in the vile tongue of Angband, rushed him.

Molly threw his trident at the charging Balrog and called up his Gladius. Somehow Kâlraug managed to twist to one side avoiding most of the trident yet one tine managed to leave a fiery trail along his cheek. Molly pressed forward leading with his shield high so he could drive a Gladius strike into the foul beast’s guts. As he moved he suddenly realized that the black arrows that had been falling upon his forces had ceased.

The lightning fast rat-a-tat of a pair of ax strikes against his shield slowed him just enough so that Kâlraug was able to slide backward avoiding Molly’s sword. Yet a fierce grin spread over Molly’s ruggedly handsome face, “Give them hell my love!”

Alarukë wiped blood and sweat from her brow and looked over the hilltop. It was littered with the bodies of the dead. Orc, Troll, and Elf all cut down by each other. She felt a surge of elation at the victory but knew it was hollow. Little more than a third of her force remained.

“Ma’am, the field is ours. What are your orders?”

Alarukë looked out at the battle below and cursed. The line of elven infantry had moved forward but Kâlraug’s forces still held. Then she saw Sornohen and felt a surge of . . . love? . . . Fear? . . . Worry? The emotions were so foreign that Alarukë wasn’t sure what she was feeling. The battle between Sornohen and Kâlraug had escalated to a point where only the immortal eyes of a Maiar or a fallen Maiar could really understand what they were seeing.

“Ma’am, your orders?”

Not wanted to be distracted Alarukë snapped, “Where is Cainir? He is also in command.”

“Ma’am, Cainir has fallen.”

For a second Alarukë failed to understand and then with a sigh looked at the ranger. “Form a firing line there along the ridge two ranks deep. We will concentrate our fire on the enemy center directly in front of our infantry.”

The ranger snapped off a salute and hurried away. For a moment Alarukë considered transforming and leaping from the hill into the battle below. Between her power and Sornohen’s Kâlraug would fall quickly. Then she pulled back. ‘No, if I do that Sornohen will attack me as soon as Kâlraug is dead.’ She thought. Feeling trapped by her own deception and with few options Alarukë drew her bow and moved toward the head of the firing line.

Sir Fallaistra wiped the blood off her sword and stepped back from the fighting. They’d fallen back to the third and last barricade. Over half her force was gone including every Knight. And yet, they held. She felt a savage joy as the Orcs fell back leaving mounds of dead behind them. She lifted her sword to the sky and howled in glee! Up and down the line her soldiers responded throwing their almost exhausted defiance into the teeth of the enemy.

“We may all die here today, but the price will be high!”

One of the soldiers near her laughed, “It is a good day to die Captain.”

Fallaistra took a couple of steps back from the barricade and signaled her Aide. “Bring water.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Oh, and Artorion, this time when they come, I want you to run and deliver a message to General Sornohen. Tell him we held as long as we could but the enemy will be at his back within the hour.”

It took a moment for her words to sink in and then the young elven boy shook his head. “Ma’am I didn’t volunteer to stand with you only to run at the last minute.”

Fallaistra shook her head, “I’m not saving you Artorion. This is an important message. Beside once we fall the battle is lost. Deliver your message and then find a place that seems like a good place to die and sell your life dearly.”

For a moment Fallaistra thought he’d cry. Instead the youth nodded and offered her a crisp salute. “May we meet again in Manwë’s hall.”

Fallaistra nodded and returned the salute, “Off you go.”

When she turned her attention to the battlefield she saw something different. There was movement through the middle of the horde and then her keen elven eyes spotted him. A giant, clothed in shadow and fire and terror seized her by the throat as she realized that Gothmog had joined the fight.

“By the Light, Gothmog is upon us!”

Fallaistra could hear cries of fear up and down the line. She knew she should do something, say something, but what? They were exhausted, pushed to the brink of what they could endure. They would not survive another attack and now the walking terror, Gothmog, the Captain of Balrogs, the Slayer of Fëanor, Gothmog the Terrible was upon them. In desperation Fallaistra lifted her eyes to the sky to say one finale prayer before her doom.

Circling high above her, she saw something. The world seemed to pause around her as her mind tried to grasp the sight.

“Eagles?!”

They were huge and suddenly they dove! The eagles’ high pitched cries bounced off the bluffs as they attacked. Eagles by the hundred were descending and then Fallaistra’s ears picked up another sound. Horns! She recognized the bold notes of silver horns. Looking up and down her line she saw faces that had been filled with despair only a few seconds ago now look up in wonder.

“Aye, my hearts, your ears do not deceive you! Those are the horns of Ondolindë! King Turukáno has loosed his legions!”

Molly stumbled back, his shield arm hung uselessly. For a brief moment pain had blazed brightly as the ax bit deeply into his shoulder and then he’d twisted free and stumbled back. Kâlraug had been forced to let go of the ax and he lurched to one side as Molly’s Gladius strike to his side had been a powerful counter blow. Most of the shadow and flame had fled. Leaving a warrior dressed in dark armor. Even as Molly looked at him, he realized that this creature was as beautiful, despite the twisting horns and cloven hooves, as it was evil. The shield on Molly’s useless arm vanished with a small effort of will and Molly turned so that his good side was leading and raised the Gladius.

Kâlraug responded by lifting his remaining ax and for a moment they regarded each other and then just as Molly was about to move forward a mithril tipped white arrow appeared in the center of Kâlraug’s chest. The mighty Balrog roared in pain and stumbled back only to have a second matching arrow appear next to the first. Kâlraug’s legs failed and he sank to his knees. With a roar Molly lurched forward and brought his Gladius down in a chopping motion that clove Kâlraug’s head in two. For a second the world seemed to stand still. Then there was a horrified scream and dark power burst from Kâlraug rushing out in all directions like a furious wind and it seemed to Molly that for a moment the world shuddered.

Then it was over and Molly sank to his knees. There was a part of him that knew he should stand up. He was surrounded by enemies. They still needed to break this Warband if they were to escape the trap. Now Molly noticed in a strange detached way more and more arrows falling among the Orcs. There were screams from all around but he couldn’t make sense of them.

“The Eagles! The Eagles!”

Molly heard the cries but didn’t know what it might mean. Then the flash of bright armor caused Molly to blink. Elven warriors were around him. Rushing forward, pushing back the Orcs. ‘We did it.’ Molly thought and slowly climbing to his feet. The Orcs were in a full on panic driven route! They were throwing down their arms and armor to run faster. ‘Could the death of Kâlraug cause such a panic,’ Molly wondered. Then the sound of an eagles cry interrupted Molly’s sluggish thoughts. For a moment the Boreas wanted to change and go greet the lesser beings of the sky, but Molly didn’t have the energy.

Now the Elves around him seemed familiar with their red-gauntlets held bright swords. They surrounded him forming a protective ring, alert for any threat. Their concern made Molly want to laugh, but he was too tired. Then Alion appeared next to him.

“My Lord, we’ve won!”

Molly blinked and it took him a moment to respond, “Yes, we’ve broken Kâlraug’s force. Now we must move our troops up the flat and then over the far ridge if we’re to escape.”

“No, my Lord, there is no need. King Turukáno has sent an army from Ondolindë. They have fallen on Gothmog’s army from behind. His force is routed. Reports are that Gothmog has fled over the river and is running. But his army is destroyed!”

Molly just looked at Alion. “We’ve won?”

“Aye, my Lord. We’ve won!”

Molly could feel his exhaustion slowly give way to hope. “What of Tanna Greenleaf and Cainir? They were supposed to take the high ground.”

“Aye, my Lord, and take it they did, but at considerable cost. Cainir is dead.”

At the moment Molly was too numb to process it. “And Tanna?”

“She lives my lord.”

“Okay, um . . . I think I need to return to the Command Post.”

Alion put an arm around Molly’s waist to provide some support and grunted under the strain. It occurred to Molly that he was still wearing Kratos’ shape. With an effort of will he let go of the power he’d been holding and sank to his knees as his body shifted to the more familiar form that had once belonged to Logan. Now Alion wrapped an arm under Molly’s as the pain from his wounds, which had been held at bay by the power of Kratos, crashed home. The world lurched sideways and darkness closed in.

Current situation:

Molly distracted by Tanna Greenleaf and her new masculine urges is caught by surprise by Gothmog and Kâlraug. The ensuing battle turns desperate and when all hope of victory appears lost Logan makes his entrance.

Author Note:

1: This story is based on the Altered Fates Universe concept established by Jennifer Adams, however I’ve taken some artistic liberties so this story doesn’t strictly adhere to the rules Jennifer established.

2: This is also a fanfic of the J.R.R. Tolkien world of Middle Earth in an untold tale of the First Age. Please note; I didn’t stay completely true to the Middle Earth that Tolkien set up. This is my take on what Middle Earth in the First Age might have been like.

Logan fidgeted and then moved deeper into the shadows cast by the building. ‘God, I hate waiting,’ she thought. The Elves in the courtyard milled around in a sort of organized chaos that reminded Logan of his days in the military. Standing around waiting for the morning formation, no matter the race or culture it was all the same. Despite her impatience to be moving Logan had to admit that once the Elves started to take action they’d done so with great efficiency.

After King Turgon’s pronouncement the Elves had moved quickly. Logan thought back to the feast that the King had thrown and her lips twitched at the memory. They’d moved from the throne room through a set of tall sliver and glass doors that opened onto a garden. The sun was still high and set between the trees were small tables filled with things to eat and drink. The nobles immediately moved between the tables and Logan found Sir Ronir standing by her elbow.

“Does the King always act so spontaneously?”

Ronir’s grin was a quick flash of white teeth and then he shook his head. “I suppose that to one of the Maiar we might seem fickle. I can assure you that what the King just did was thoroughly planned.”

Logan felt puzzled and quirked an eyebrow waiting for the Knight to continue.

“Penlod and Narmartë have been betrothed for almost a hundred years. Narmartë’s obsession with taking vengeance upon the Orcs Morgoth has plagued Nevrast with has prevented their union. Now that Sir Helcëtôr is dead Narmartë is the Lord of House Ith Mindon. King Turgon acted brilliantly today, by joining them in marriage and giving Penlod the task of saving Nevrast Narmartë had no excuse to put off the wedding.”

Ronir paused to take a sip of wine and then continued his eyes sparkling. “This gives the King a perfect excuse to rescue the Elves of Nevrast without losing face over their failure to follow his orders. Second the battle will firmly establish Penlod as the Lord of both House Climbol and House Ith Mindon. Penlod has long held the King’s favor and this prevents a possible scramble for power between Narmartë and her cousins. That would have been a fight Narmartë would have lost because she would have undoubtedly left Tumladen for Nevrast.”

At this Ronir paused and scooped a fluted glass from an Elf carrying a tray of them and with a flourish offered the glass to Logan.

“Thank you.” Logan accepted the wine and after a sip gasped out, “I think this might be the best wine I’ve ever had!”

“It is said that the King brought the seeds with him from Valinor.”

“So, this wedding binds two Great Houses together and puts that power in the hands of Turgon’s ally.”

“Yes, and it does one other significant thing. With the destruction of the Orc invasion Narmartë’s desire for vengeance will have been satisfied. As the wife of a Great Lord, she will be duty bound to remain at Penlod’s side here in Tumladen. This will make Penlod happy because they are both truly in love.”

“So there were political reasons, strategic reasons, and personal reasons for the King to act.”

Ronir took a sip of wine and nodded. “Yes, the King is not cold or heartless."

“And did you or Penlod know about this before we walked into the throne room?”

At this Ronir looked away and Logan detected a faint flush. “You did! Why didn’t you tell me or Narmartë?

“There was no guarantee. We discussed it and it made sense. But we didn’t know until the King Turgon chose to act.”

“Did I hear my name?”

Ronir spun around in surprise and Logan had to suppress a giggle. She’d seen the King approach and hadn’t given Ronir any clue on purpose. It was a petty vengeance for him holding out on her, but it felt good.

“I was just explaining the implications of Lord Penlod and Lady Narmartë’s wedding to Lady Ilcaúrna.”

“Ah, how thoughtful of you Sir Ronir.”

Ronir flushed even further with embarrassment and the King turned to Logan.

“Do you think I am cold hearted for using them in this way?”

For a second Logan felt Melchiresa stir and suddenly her awareness of Turgon seemed to intensify and time stood still. Logan could feel the humor lurking beneath the King’s exterior at his helping Logan punish Ronir. Deeper still Logan felt a cold hard shield that the King used to keep others away. A wall he surrounded himself with so that he could make decisions out of logic instead of emotion. Under that shield was a deep well of sorrow and pain. Logan felt her breath catch and a tear formed at the edge of her eye. Something had hurt the King. Hurt him so deeply that every day was a fresh agony. Then below that Logan sensed a burning determination. The King would never give up. He would never give in once he’d set a task for himself. Then the odd extra sense seemed to die away and time started back up.

“My Lady would you care to walk with me? The feast will take a few hours to prepare.” He glanced over at Sir Ronir, “If that is okay with you, Sir Ronir. I know I’m stealing her away but I promise to return her safely.”

“I am my own person Turgon. And let me assure both of you I’m quite capable of looking after my own safety.”

With a laugh the King extended his arm, “Then will you accompany me for a few minutes?”

Feeling like she’d been tricked into agreeing Logan slid her small hand through his arm. The King guided them away from the nobles and Logan was a little surprised at the size of the garden. Within a few minutes it felt like they were all alone.

“I’ve not seen one of your kind since I left Valinor. Tell me Lady Ilcaúrna what brings you to Tumladen?”

Logan paused and spotted a small white flower growing from a bush next the path. She leaned down and inhaled the scent, light and sweat it almost made her head spin and she felt her nipples grown hard.

“What is this flower? I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before.”

“It is known as Altavendë”

“Maiden’s glory?”

The King nodded, “It is also said that its scent can only be appreciated by a maiden. Once wed the fragrance will be different. To a man the flower has no aroma.”

“I see,” Logan took a half step back from the flower and looked at the King noting that he was very tall. For a moment she thought about using her power and adjusting her height so she could look him in the eye. Instead she placed a hand lightly over his heart.

“What has caused you to be so sad?”

The King’s face turned pale but before he could step back Logan caught his eye and she felt Melchiresa’s power surge again and the King froze.

“It was your wife. Wasn’t it?”

The King nodded, “Yes. She passed away during the crossing.”

Logan could feel the beating of the King’s heart under her fingers and she stepped closer. “You grieve for her yet.”

“For as long as I live, I will grieve.”

Logan kept their eyes locked and reached up with her free hand to run her fingers lightly over Turgon’s face. Smooth skin covered high cheek bones as Logan’s fingers just touching Turgon moved down to his strong chin.

“You are very handsome Turgon son of Fingolfin. The pain you carry inside of you is eating you, you must let it go and learn to live again. You have a daughter and a people to look after. This city will one day be the light that keeps the darkness of Morgoth at bay.”

The words came out of Logan’s mouth but it was like another person was speaking. “Let me start the healing process.”

“I . . . I don’t know if I can.”

“I’ll help.”

Logan watched as the hand that had been stroking the King’s face moved around behind his head and pulled him down. Slowly their lips touched and the spark of skin on skin sent an electric thrill directly to Logan’s nipples, groin, and stomach.

‘What are you doing?!’ Logan shouted silently at Melchiresa within her mind.

*What I was sent to do. Now be still and enjoy.*

Logan felt her tongue dart between the King’s lips and the hand that had been touching the King’s heart moved down to his groin. The organ between Turgon’s legs responded to Logan’s touch and she felt a thrill run through her.

“Aahhh . . . I . . . what if someone discovers us?”

Turgon had somehow pulled back enough to separate their lips and Logan made a little pouting face. Then she waved her hand and Logan felt power surge out.

“There, the wards will cause anyone coming this way to become confused and turn around. No one will find us now.”

Then Logan reached up and undid the clasps holding her dress. It fluttered to the ground and she stepped into the King’s arms.

Logan shook her head dismissing the memory. She hadn’t spoken to Melchiresa since that night. Later that night Turgon had escorted her to the banquet and seated her on his right and at some point during the feast Logan realized that she once again had control of her body. Logan had quickly explained that the wine was getting to her and she needed some fresh air. Turgon had wanted to follow her but as the host it was his duty to remain at the feast.

Logan had fled to her room where she promptly got sick. “You bitch! You used me.”

*Yes. I did, and in exchange you have access to my power. Logan, you are a good woman but you and Molly wouldn’t have survived if Manwë and Varda hadn’t directed Kratos and I to join with you.*

“Was this your plan all along?”

Logan could feel Melchiresa move inside her. *I was instructed to find Turgon and if possible heal him.*

“Seducing him is healing him?”

At this Melchiresa giggled, *In this case? Yes. We just got lucky. He is an excellent lover. You experienced five female climaxes.*

“I’m a man! I didn’t want to ‘experience’ even one female climax!”

*You were a man. Your body is fully female and you are more and more feminine every day. In time even your spirit will be a woman’s.*

Logan heard her name and looked up. Sir Ronir was approaching and she dismissed the memory of the conversation with Melchiresa.

“I will never be a woman,” Logan whispered softly. “We’ve got to get back to the gate and get through it before Melchiresa’s right.”

“Lady Ilcaúrna, we are ready to ride.” Sir Ronir said.

Logan moved quickly to the horse that the King had given her yesterday as a gift for the upcoming battle. It was a large grey stallion and Logan had been instantly taken by its beauty and power. As soon as she was mounted Sir Ronir moved his smaller mare over beside Logan’s.

“Do you think these will be enough to destroy the army from Angband?”

“This is but a small fraction of the force that will answer the call.” Ronir responded. “It will take us two days to get to the pass, at every cross road more will join.”

Just then Lord Penlod moved out of the palace with Narmartë at his side. They both wore armor in the colors of their houses. Penlod in red and gold while Narmartë moved along next to him in sliver and white. They took the head of the column and Ronir moved up behind then and Logan followed.

Some instinct made Logan glance up and back over her shoulder and she saw King Turgon on an upper balcony of the palace. Their eyes met and the King flashed her a smile. Logan couldn’t help returning the smile and then looked away. The warmth in the King’s eyes suddenly made Logan feel tingly and it made a part of her wonder if Melchiresa hadn’t been right. The cold wall that the King had been using to shield off emotions was gone. Logan knew the sadness was still there but he was now reaching out to those he loved.

Logan felt Melchiresa stir but then she settled and Penlod stood tall in his saddle.

“Move out!”

At this command the warriors of Ondolindë moved forward a tide of bright steel.

The next two days passed in a blur for Logan. Just as Ronir had predicted at every cross road they were met by yet another band of warriors. By the time they reached the road that led up into the Hidden Way the host had swelled to over ten thousand warriors. Logan had worried at the slow pace and wanted to urge Penlod and Narmartë to hurry but had refrained. Gathering an army took time she just hoped that Molly was able to hold out until they reached Nevrast.

Moving up into the pass was torture for Logan since the pace slowed even more. Time and again she considered shifting into Melchiresa’s full form and flying up over the mountains and finding Molly. Somehow she knew that if she did that it would be a disaster.

The fifth day after leaving Gondolin dawned bright and clear and Logan, now riding next to Narmartë felt fear grip her heart. It was sudden and intense and she swayed in the saddle.

“Ilcaúrna, are you well?” The concern in Narmartë’s voice brought Logan back.

“I’m fine. But we must move if we are going to be of any use to Sornohen. I don’t understand it but I feel like we are now out of time.” Logan suddenly urged her horse forward to where Penlod was riding at the head of the column. Narmartë urged her horse to follow so both ladies arrived at the same time.

Penlod flashed a smile at Narmartë before turning to Logan. “My, lady?”

“Lord Penlod, now that we are clear of the Way, we must ride hard. I do not fully understand it, but the doom of Nevrast is with us. Abandon all caution, boldness is called for! If we don’t reach the battle field by this time tomorrow all will be lost.”

For a moment Penlod stared at Logan shocked and then without hesitation turned to Sir Ronir. “Ronir, sound the horns. We will abandon any that cannot keep up.” Then he turned to Logan. “Led the way Ilcaúrna et Maiar and if we have the strength, we will stay with you.”

The sounds of battle grew louder as they raced along through the forest. Logan glanced back over her shoulder impressed by the strength of the Elves. Penlod had been true to his word and he’d matched the pace that Logan set. The ride through the night had been exhausting and Logan knew better than to run the horses to death. Now daylight was full upon them and the sounds of battle echoed through the trees.

Suddenly Logan exited the tree line and had her first clear view of what was in front of them. The Orc army was being funneled between a ridge and a steep river bank. Logan couldn’t see the defenders but she knew that numbers were on the side of the Orcs. Penlod pulled his horse to a stop next to her and leaned forward scanning the host.

“They have not noticed us.”

His statement was full of confidence and Logan nodded. “No. They have not.”

More and more Elves began to appear from the woods and Penlod didn’t have to issue any orders as they spread out to the left and right. Rank upon rank the riders settled their steeds and prepared. It took longer than Logan would have wished for but now, at the end of the race they needed to make the attack count.

Narmartë moved up to take a spot to Logan’s left and Penlod was on her the right. He glanced at the line and nodded to Ronir. With a grin Ronir pulled a silver war horn from his saddle bag and raised it to his lips. The blast was clear and pure and it echoed over the open ground before them. At its first note the Elves moved forward. The horses were at a walk. In front, Orcs started to turn and stare. Now Logan urged her steed forward and the walk turned into a trot.

The Elves quickly dressed the line and more Orcs turned. More horns sounded as each Elven Knight drew out a horn and gave voice to their rage at the death and destruction wrought by Morgoth. Without looking Logan knew the sun was bright upon them and the colors of the host shone with the power of Elven arms. She urged her horse to a full gallop and the Elves once again moved to match the pace. Even at this range Logan could see terror upon the faces of the Orcs as they scrambled to set up some kind of defense. The distance between Logan and the Orcs closed with amazing speed yet it seemed slow motion to her.

Just before she reached the first Orc Logan raised a hand and a jet of fire flashed out blasting the first few Orcs from her path. Then her Kris materialized in her hand and with a small effort of will it grew in size becoming a long sword. Then Logan was among the Orcs.

Her body was filled with energy and Logan heard the sound of Eagles screaming overhead. A quick glance showed that the Giant Eagles who made their home in Echoriath and were the allies of Turgon had joined the battle.

The Eleven army pushed through the Orcs like a hot knife through butter and Logan caught sight for the first time of Gothmog. He stood out, a giant upon the battlefield and Logan felt Melchiresa stir. Rage washed through Logan. Rage at this being, a Maiar, a friend from before the world was formed, and a traitor to the music of Illúvatar now standing before her. Suddenly Logan knew that Melchiresa knew Gothmog by a different name and that her anger at his betrayal was personal. Without having to be told Logan leapt from her saddle her wings snapping down against the air speeding her flight by magic.

Gothmog turned and moved toward the river and Logan gave cry to Melchiresa’s challenge. At the sound of her rage Gothmog glanced back and even though they were more than a mile apart their eyes met. For the first time there was recognition upon Gothmog’s face and for an instant the shadows that surrounded him fled.

“Melchiresa!

Even though it was spoken softly the word flew through the air and Logan felt Melchiresa shudder.

“Long and long has it been my love. You should not have come!”

Logan felt a shock run through her and then Melchiresa responded.

“What does time matter to you and I? We stood together and sang in the void before the world was formed. And yet does your betrayal still sting. It is time, my husband, for you to leave this world for good.”

“No, my lord Morgoth still has use for me! Another time, my love.”

With that Gothmog turned and used his power to race away. Furious, Logan rushed after him. Suddenly pain exploded on her side and she tumbled to the right clawing at the air to stay aloft. The spear of darkness had been hurled at her by a Balrog Melchiresa recognized as Gôrlir. Abruptly Logan felt nothing but rage. Rage at being stopped from gaining vengeance on her husband for his betrayal. Rage that this Maiar would dare to challenge her. Rage at what had been done to the Elves by Morgoth. Fire and wind became her weapons as she tore into the Trolls and Orcs that surrounded Gôrlir. Logan lost track of time in a red haze of anger and power as she punished the creatures responsible for the corruption of the Song of Ainur.

Gôrlir stood against her power for a few minutes and then his sword twisted and stabbed him, his armor crumpled crushing his body, and Logan struck Kris flashing and in a fountain of blood she removed his head. Next Logan focused her anger on the Trolls and they died in waves as she moved forward. The Orcs were trying to run but Logan was now like a force of nature and wasn’t willing to let them escape. Having assumed the full mantel of Melchiresa’s power Logan towered over the Orcs and no one could stand before her. The rage died a little and Logan realized that a pair of Elven Knights faced her. She blinked and understood that one was Narmartë and the other was a female Knight who stood even taller than Narmartë.

“My Lady, Ilcaúrna et Maiar, the field is ours. The enemy has fled.”

It took a moment for Narmartë’s words to penetrate Logan’s mind and then she felt her body relax. With an effort Logan nodded and caused the flaming Kris to vanish.

“This is Sir Fallaistra, she had the command of the rear guard.”

Logan nodded at the Knight, “Hail, Fallaistra.”

“It is my honor to meet you Ilcaúrna. You’re arrival this day couldn’t have been more timely.”

Logan nodded, “Would that we had arrived sooner.”

“My Lady, your kinsman Lord Sornohen, I fear he needs your help. He fought and slew the Balrog Kâlraug and was grievously wounded. It is said that those of the Maiar can heal as well as slay.”

Logan felt Melchiresa agreeing and nodded to Fallaistra.

“Lead me to Sornohen.”

As they moved through the battlefield Logan slowly released the power she’d been holding and felt her form shrink to a normal human size. Worried for Molly Logan glanced at Fallaistra, “How grievous are Sornohen’s wounds?”

“In a moment you can see for yourself, the command tent is just up ahead.”

Logan nodded and had to resist using her wings to rush to his side. Now that the battle was won there was no reason to be jumpy and Logan suddenly felt certain that if Molly had died she would have known. The red gauntleted guards in front of the command tent snapped a quick salute to Fallaistra and then stepped aside. The tent was good sized but the number of Elves inside made it feel crowded. Logan could tell these were the leaders of the resistance because she could feel their power. Then one Elf, a beautiful female archer, caught her eye. There was something about this beauty that made Logan uneasy. Then she stepped back and Logan saw Molly. He was laying on a cot, naked, his wounds exposed and for a second shock ran through Logan because she was looking at her own body. At least her body before the medallion had done its work.

Then Logan saw Molly’s chiseled chest rise and fall and a feeling of relief replaced the surreal feeling of seeing her former body wounded. Logan moved forward and drew upon Melchiresa’s power and for the first time felt it respond sluggishly. She had pushed hard during the fighting and she was nearing Melchiresa’s limit. Then Logan knelt next to Molly and slowly placed her slender hand on his chest. Power pulsed out of her and Logan felt her body shift. Her wings and horns vanished and red hair replaced midnight tresses.

Then Molly coughed. Logan’s eyes focused on him and she watched as wounds closed and bruises vanished. After a second Molly’s eyes fluttered open and they focused on Logan.

“It took you long enough.”

“Better late than never.”

“Ah, just like a woman, always running late.”

Current Situation: At last Logan has given in to his feminine urges and under Melchiresa’s influence seduced King Turukáno. Now the “Shining Leagons” of Ondolindë have come up out of Tumladen and routed Morgoth’s forces. With their victory complete will Molly and Logan decide to return to Earth or will they stay in Arda? And have they changed so much that they no longer desire to return to their original bodies?

Author Note:

1: This story is based on the Altered Fates Universe concept established by Jennifer Adams, however I’ve taken some artistic liberties so this story doesn’t strictly adhere to the rules Jennifer established.

2: This is also a fanfic of the J.R.R. Tolkien world of Middle Earth in an untold tale of the First Age. Please note; I didn’t stay completely true to the Middle Earth that Tolkien set up. This is my take on what Middle Earth in the First Age might have been like.

Logan paused to look out over the river. It seemed like an age instead of only a few weeks since she’d crossed it to meet Narmartë and her Rangers. The rest of her group paused at the river each taking a look at the clear running water before they moved into it. The group was a little more than a dozen and even though Logan knew them all she felt unhappy with the situation.

After the battle Lord Penlod had taken command of the Elven army and pursued the remains of the Orcs. Molly had been up in a few hours but had been perfectly happy to relinquish command to Penlod. Logan was still stunned at what she’d learned. That Molly had collected the rag-tag bands of Elves and pulled them together into an army and had then fought the far larger host of Orcs to a standstill for almost a month before finally being caught. The Elves who’d explained this to Logan spoke of Molly in hushed tones of awe reserved for the greatest Elven heroes.

And then there was Tanna Greenleaf. From the first time Logan saw Molly look at her she knew that Molly was in love. A part of Logan wanted to be happy for Molly but another part was jealous. Molly shouldn’t be in love with the beautiful Elven archer. Molly should have been the girl. These feelings were further confused when Logan remembered the nights she’d spent in Turgon’s arms. She wasn’t in love with Turgon but the feelings he’d awoken in her made her wonder if she’d become so feminine that she wouldn’t be able to switch back.

Once she was alone with Molly they’d exchanged stories and again Logan was surprised at how well Molly had done. She was also startled at how unconsciously masculine Molly had become. The way he sat on the camp stool, the way he held his body, it all spoke of masculine vitality, a vitality that Logan found extremely attractive.

With a sinking feeling Logan asked, “Are you ready to go home?”

Molly looked over at Logan but didn’t meet her eyes. “I’m not going home.”

The simple statement rocked Logan. “What do you mean you’re not going home?!” As she spoke Logan rose to her feet and planted her hands on her hips. “Have you forgotten your dad is back there? That a group of fanatics attacked your house? That I was hired to protect you? And that we are in the WRONG bodies!” As she spoke her voice rose until she was almost shouting.

Molly looked down at his hands, his face awash with misery and then he glanced back up at Logan. “I love her.”

The words seemed simple enough but they rocked Logan. “What do you mean you love her?”

“Tanna Greenleaf. I love her and I can’t leave her.”

Logan let out a sigh and switched to English. “Molly, you’ve only known her for what a couple of weeks? Are you sure this isn’t just your little head talking?”

In the same language Molly replied, “Yes. I love her and nothing is going to change that. Besides I’ve grown to love this land and Logan, look at the things we can do? Can you really give up your power to return home and just be regular person again?”

“Yes, if that means getting my body back.”

Now Molly stood up, and looked down at Logan. “Fine, I’ll help you get back to the gate. I was able to send some scouts into Lindornëa and they found our gear. So I’ve got the key. You can return and use the medallion to change back. I’m sure my father will help you.”

“And what am I supposed to tell your father?”

“That I’m fine. That I’m in love and happy and that he can visit me here.”

Logan turned away and left the tent, her mixed emotions were enough that she knew she needed to be alone. As she left the tent she spotted Tanna who’d been waiting outside. They caught each other’s eye and once again Logan’s intuition told her that there was something about Tanna that wasn’t quite right. Then Tanna moved forward and into the tent and Logan strode away.

Now Logan glanced to her side and saw Molly and Tanna just a few feet away looking out at the river. Narmartë and Penlod were on her left and they were surrounded by Molly’s Red Guard and Penlod’s Clansmen.

“This is where it all started.” Narmartë said glancing at Logan and then at Molly. “This is where we met.”

“Fortunate for all of us that you did.” Penlod said reaching out to give Narmartë’s hand a squeeze.

“Yes, if it hadn’t been for Ilcaúrna and Sornohen Nevrast would have been lost.”

Logan agreed silently with Narmartë but she still felt too resentful at Molly’s decision to stay to respond. They had spent every night since Molly had explained that she was staying arguing about the decision until last night when Tanna had for the first time joined in. She’d pulled open the tent flap and silently moved to Molly’s side wrapping her arms around his waist and then looking back at Logan.

The silent feminine declaration of possession was one that Logan understood all the way to her bones and rather than continue the argument she’d left. Now Logan set her heels to her horse’s flanks and descended into the river. Crossing the stream was easy although finding a good place to climb the far bank proved a little more challenging. Once on the other side they started looking for the marks that Logan had left showing their back trail. It took a while since it had been several weeks and the knife cuts hadn’t been deep.

Yet Elven woodsmen-ship proved equal to the challenge as Tanna let out a shout. In a few seconds Logan was able to confirm she’d found the back trail. They spent the rest of that day following it. The thickness of the trees and underbrush prevented them from moving at speed through the woods. In fact they spent most of the day walking leading their horses. Toward twilight they found the clearing that had changed Logan and Molly’s tattoos.

Logan moved forward eager to examine the obelisk one more time only to discover that it was missing.

“What the hell? It’s gone.”

She exchanged a look with Molly as Narmartë came forward. “What’s gone?”

“There was an obelisk here. It was a good landmark. Maybe we’re not in the right location.”

“Your markings led us to this clearing. Could someone have moved it?” Tanna asked, moving to stand next to Molly.

Logan shook her head. “I doubt it. Based on its size it would have been very difficult to move.”

The guards quickly set up camp and even though the fire was cheery Logan moved to one side keeping away from the others as she stared out into the darkness.

‘What happened to the obelisk?’ she thought.

*It served its purpose and was recalled to Valinor.*

Logan was almost startled to hear Melchiresa’s voice. ‘How does one recall a two ton stone obelisk?’

At this Logan could hear Melchiresa laugh, *With great care.*

‘So what now? What happens to you when I return to my world?’

*When you step through the gate you will return to your world and I’ll return to Valinor.*

For the first time Logan felt sad at the thought of returning home. Melchiresa’s presence within her mind had become a welcome reassurance. Logan was never alone because Melchiresa was always with her. Even when Melchiresa had used her Logan was able to feel her intentions and she’d never wished to harm Logan. What would it be like to be alone within her own mind again?

The night passed quickly and they set out early the next day. It was still slow going but when Molly spotted the first webbing strung between the trees Logan felt reassured that they were on the right track. Yet even though they saw signs of the giant spiders they didn’t actually spot the monsters.

“I doubt that they have enough courage to confront a party as strong as ours.” Penlod said when Logan expressed her concern. Just before dusk Ronir spotted the ruined watch tower wall.

“We can open the gate tonight or we could camp here and open it at first light.” Molly said looking at Logan.

Suddenly, Logan didn’t want to spend any more time here. This world, everything that had happened to her, she just wanted to be done with it. To be back home in her own body, in her own apartment drinking a beer. Her intuition told her that she should leave now. Yet the idea of being separated from Melchiresa and leaving Molly behind made her hesitate. Even though she didn’t want to be a woman she’d gotten used to it. So much so that she no longer noticed the movement of breasts and hips. Even her time of the month, as disgusting as it was, didn’t seem that abnormal. Everything pretty much felt . . . normal . . . comfortable even, and that was what scared Logan the most.

“Let’s set up camp. There will be plenty of time in the morning to say good bye.” Logan said, mostly thinking about Melchiresa and what it would mean to be separated from her.

The Elves went to work setting up camp with their normal efficiency. By this time Logan had learned to stay out of their way. Instead she decided to take a look at the ruin. There was a part of her that just wanted to make sure that the arch was still there.

“My lady, where are you headed?”

Looking back Logan saw that Sir Ronir had followed her and she flashed him a smile. There was a part of her that was still attracted to him and she no longer tried to squish that part of her nature. It just seemed silly after her time with Turgon. Thinking of Turgon made Logan want to squirm as her groin became a little wet. The things he’d done to her in the heat of passion . . . Then she realized she was staring at Ronir and hadn’t answered him.

“I’m going to check out the gate. I’d like to make sure that everything is ready for tomorrow.

“Might I accompany you my Lady? I hear that the tower is infested with Ungoliantsén and even a lady of the Maiar needs someone to watch her back.”

Logan was tempted to say no, but then she reconsidered. It wasn’t that she thought she needed Ronir, she was sure that she could take care of any Giant Spiders that might come up. She just didn’t want to be alone. The trek up to the tower ruins in the semi-dark was easy enough. Elven night vision is pretty good and Logan had no trouble drawing upon Melchiresa’s power to help her see.

The walls were pretty much as Logan remembered them and jumping up was almost a natural movement after dealing with the lesser gravity for so long now. Then she was in the courtyard and for a moment she didn’t see the arch. Logan spun around and then she spotted it. The angle she’d come in over the wall was slightly off so the arch was to her left. Ronir landed next to her with a soft thud.

“Is that the gate?”

“Yeah,” Logan moved forward in the dim light trying to make sure she remembered each of the symbols and more importantly the one that would take her back to Earth.

“Do you know how it works?”

Logan nodded, “Yes. But you’ll see me use it tomorrow.”

“My lady.” Something in Ronir’s voice caused Logan to turn and look at him. “I . . . I wish you would consider changing your mind.”

“Changing my mind about what?”

“About leaving.” With that he stepped in closer and suddenly Logan was once again aware of how attractive he was. Even if he wasn’t Turgon, he was still very much a handsome male.

“This isn’t my world, Ronir. We came here and accomplished what we needed to and now we should return.”

“And yet, Sornohen remains.”

Logan shook her head, “He shouldn’t. He isn’t thinking properly. Tanna has him under a spell.”

At this Ronir stiffened, “You think Tanna is using the Song of Ainur to beguile Sornohen’s mind?”

Logan couldn’t help giggling and she shook her head. “No, Ronir, nothing so nefarious. Tanna is only using what every woman tries to use on her man. Her feminine charm has ensnared him.”

“That doesn’t seem so bad.” Ronir stepped even closer until only a few inches separated them and Logan was forced to look up. “I have been caught in a similar trap.”

Logan’s breath caught. She knew that Ronir had a thing for her. In fact she’d also felt an attraction but she hadn’t acted on it. She wasn’t ready for that kind of a relationship, she couldn’t just give herself to a man. Besides more than anything she wanted to get home.

Just then a horn blast ripped the night. It was immediately followed by the sound of thunder.

“That’s Sornohen’s spear!” Logan said.

“And my Lord Penlod’s horn!” Ronir added.

Without a word they both dashed for the camp.

Molly looked over just in time to see Logan slip off into the dark. She was accompanied by Sir Ronir and Molly smiled. It was pretty obvious that Ronir had a thing for Logan, even if Logan refused to admit it.

“And what is the cause of your good humor my lord?” Tanna asked running her hand along Molly’s neck. Molly leaned into her touch enjoying the sensation of Tanna’s soft hand.

“Oh, I saw Ilcaúrna and Ronir slip off into the night. I was just hoping that perhaps Ilcaúrna has noticed how he’s been looking at her. If this is her last night in this world she ought to enjoy it.”

Tanna shook her head, “Perhaps, but I think not. Ilcaúrna is set to return, I doubt very much if she will take a lover on her last night in Arda.”

Molly let out a sigh there was a part of her that wanted Logan to sleep with Ronir. It was a selfish part, because Molly had no intention of returning to his former body. He felt Kratos stirring and sensed his agreement. Why would any man, any warrior, if given the choice become female? For a second Molly felt a flash of irritation and a desire to defend his former gender but then he realized that he agreed with Kratos. He was stronger, more powerful than any other warrior and he had the love of a beautiful woman. Why would he want to change any of that?

Molly stood up and offered a hand to Tanna, “I see our tent is ready. Perhaps my lady can show me why staying in Arda is the proper choice?”

“I would love to my lord.” Tanna said, standing up and facing Molly.

Suddenly the head of a cross bow bolt appeared between Tanna’s breasts and as if in slow motion she lurched forward. Molly managed to catch her dropping to one knee as another bolt sped through the space where he’d just stood. For a second time seemed to stand still. Molly couldn’t understand what he was seeing. Tanna tried to struggle but the bolt was protruding from her back as well as her front. Then Molly noticed the fetid odor and a part of him knew it was a poison. Then the war cries of the Elves around him penetrated the fog in his brain.

Molly gently rested Tanna on her side and when he stood up he pulled upon the full power of Kratos bursting his clothes in the process. In an instant a fifteen foot tall warrior clothed in glowing armor and carrying a mighty trident moved toward the attackers. Out of the darkness came a swarm of vile creatures. Giant spiders, dark skinned Elves, half-spider half-Elven hybrids, and then the mighty biggest spider Molly had ever seen moved into the light. The beast was almost the size of an elephant!

Molly threw his trident at the creature but one of the hybrids jumped in the way taking the full force of the strike in the chest. The crack of thunder that followed it was joined by the sound of Elven war horns and then the battle was joined. Molly summoned his Gladius and cut down a pair of spiders the size of horses before he closed on the first dark Elf. With a part of his mind Molly noticed Penlod and Narmartë join the fight. Their individual power shining out into the darkness as they used the Song of Ainur to aid them in battle. Then he was past the dark Elves and there was nothing between him and the Giant-Spider.

His first attack was against one of the lead legs and even though his Gladius cut the chitin it didn’t cut it as deeply as Molly had expected. Then he had to leap back to avoid being caught by the spider. Despite its size the thing moved with better agility than Molly thought possible. Again and again Molly struck and leapt away and each time the monster’s hide turned his blade.

In a fury Molly hacked at the beast but this time he was too slow jumping aside and a mighty claw tipped leg struck his shield. Molly’s legs buckled under the force of the blow and the claw actually penetrated the shield cutting Molly’s shoulder. Then the creature pulled back and the shield was ripped away and Molly felt the bones in his shoulder break.

“Aghhhh!”

Despair closed in. Tanna was dead and this foul creature was about to end him. Molly looked up waiting for death to come as the monster reared back. Then out of the night fire fell upon the beast. For a second the heat was so intense that Molly had to throw up a hand to protect his face and his mind refused to understand what had happened. Then the spider’s bellow of pain shook the ground and Molly felt it stager back.

Molly stood up and rage filled him and he summoned Griffin. The change happened in an instant and Molly felt and saw the flow of power around him. Logan was in the sky using wind and fire to attack the Child-of-Ungoliant and it looked like the creature couldn’t stand fire. Griffin was no beast of flame, but he was a creature of magic and power. With a snap of his wings he was airborne and then with a second snap he was moving around behind the monster.

The creature gestured and spinnerets launched a web up at Logan but she dodged it easily. This gave Molly the perfect opening and he struck. The full force of his weight and magically enhanced strength added by his dive caused his talons sink into the beasts back piercing its chitin and then Molly struck with his beak going for the place where the head attached to the thorax. Then with a snap of his wings Molly was once more in the air as the creature spun around screaming yet again. Only this time instead of throwing out webs with its spinnerets it threw out darkness.

Clouds of inky black billowed out filling the night blinding most creatures. Yet the eyes of the Maiar are not most eyes. Logan continued to blast the night as she circled above and then Molly dove in again. This time the strike was perfectly timed with Logan’s last blast and Molly used his hind claws to destroy the spiders’ eyes.

The howl of agony was music to Molly’s ears and he turned as tightly as he could to attack again. This time as he dropped to strike Logan came in as well and she was wielding a long sword with a blade that undulated like a Kris. The creature spun around blindly but it did no good. Molly struck the thorax and his talons cut through its hide with ease. Then Logan hacked into its neck with her long sword and an instant later the beast’s head rolled free.

Molly leapt into the air screaming his defiance of all the fell creatures of the dark. He turned and saw that the dark Elves and their spiders were falling back. This wasn’t enough for Molly. No, not after what they’d taken from him. He dove after them killing every creature he could find.

Current Situation:

Nevrast has been saved and the remaining Elves are migrating to Tumladen. Molly and Logan have traveled with their friends to the ruined watch tower and the Gate. Then tragedy struck when the giant spiders attacked the small group catching them by surprise. With Molly’s reason for staying in Arda gone will he return to Earth?

Author Note:

1: This story is based on the Altered Fates Universe concept established by Jennifer Adams, however I’ve taken some artistic liberties so this story doesn’t strictly adhere to the rules Jennifer established.

2: This is also a fanfic of the J.R.R. Tolkien world of Middle Earth in an untold tale of the First Age. Please note; I didn’t stay completely true to the Middle Earth that Tolkien set up. This is my take on what Middle Earth in the First Age might have been like.

Molly stood next to Logan as she finished chanting the words that activated the gate. They were both in their human forms and for a brief instant Logan considered shifting into Melchiresa as a tribute before stepping through the gate. Then she dismissed the idea and reached out and touched the symbol representing Earth with her bleeding hand. The gate activated and suddenly the air within the arch became hazy. Molly felt numb as Logan handed him the knife. Nothing mattered. Tanna was dead. Half the Elves who’d accompanied him were dead including Ronir. Penlod and Narmartë looked on, sorrow plain on their clear Elven faces. Both were wounded.

The attack had almost cost all of them their lives. Molly couldn’t believe it still. A part of him refused to accept that Tanna was dead. But there was no mistaking it. He’d held her cold still body until the sun rose and then laid her gently next to the bodies of the other fallen. Then he’d found Logan and told her that he was ready to return. There was no way that Molly wanted to stay in this world. Every second was now a reminder to him of what he’d lost.

“My Lord, you can yet change your mind. You have earned a place of honor among us.” Narmartë’s words were of little comfort to Molly and he shook his head.

“Nay. I thank you, my lady, but every moment I tarry reminds me of her. I don’t belong to this world and now I must return.”

With that Molly made a shallow cut on his palm and pressed it into the same symbol Logan had activated a moment ago.

Logan nodded to Molly and then turned to face the remaining Elves.

“It has been an honor to fight by you. Be well.” Logan said.

There was a murmur among them and then Narmartë stepped forward to hug Logan.

“The honor was ours. You are like a sister to me. I will miss you all the remaining days of my life. Perhaps we will meet again in Valinor.”

“Perhaps,” Logan said and turned to the gate. ‘I’m going to miss you Melchiresa!’

*And I you. But know this, the time that your souls where joined has changed both of us. I will carry a part of you with me into Valinor.*

Logan waved at the gathered Elves and stepped through the gate with a whisper, “And I you.”

Logan vanished and Narmartë turned one more time to face Molly and took a small step forward as if to offer a hug. Molly lifted a hand stopping her.

“For me, the light and joy of Arda has fled. I too must leave.”

Tears were streaming openly down Molly’s strong masculine face and he moved to step through the gate and then paused.

“We have no use for this,” Molly turned and extended the stone knife to Narmartë. “If you have need of us, use the knife and gate and find us.”

Narmartë accepted it and then glanced into Molly’s face. “The need would have to be very great for us to risk this place again.” Then she reached up and brushed a tear back. “And I have no desire to cause you more pain.”

Molly caught Narmartë’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I must go.” With that he stepped through the gate and vanished.

There was a moment of dizziness and Logan stumbled and then her foot found solid ground. The floor was covered in ruble and Logan stumbled trying to catch her balance. The darkness was almost absolute and without thinking Logan called upon her power hoping to improve her vision. Instantly things swam into focus. That fact alone stunned Logan.

‘Melchiresa?’ Logan thought searching the vault of her mind. She was met with silence. Yet even in the silence Logan found power. Not the full energy she’d know when bonded to Melchiresa. In fact if Logan had to guess she’d have said she was at about half her former power. ‘How is this possible?’ she wondered, yet she didn’t have the time to puzzle it out as her gaze swept the ruined room. The only item in the vault that had survived the breaching charge was the arch. The hole next to the vault door was jagged but easily big enough to climb through. Strangely it wasn’t big enough to move the arch through. This made Logan wonder how they planned to move the damn thing. Then there was a noise and Logan turned to see Molly stumble through the gate.

It was almost comical to watch him move blindly for a second before reaching for his power. The surprise on Molly’s masculine face caused Logan to giggle.

“I know, right?”

“How is it that we still have our powers?”

Sobering a little Logan said, “I wish I knew. Come on.”

With that they climbed through the hole in the wall and found themselves in the trophy room. The cases were smashed and most of the objects collected by Richard Falk were missing. Molly, much to Logan’s annoyance, took the lead. Their gear had been retrieved from Lindornëa and they’d changed this morning into normal clothes. They even had the guns they’d taken from the terrorists although they were both out of ammo. For a minute Logan hoped to spot a dropped mag or two but no such luck.

Molly moved cautiously into the hallway and Logan followed. It was just as dark here but with their ability to see in the dark this wasn’t much of an obstacle. Molly moved with long familiarity down the hallway and Logan followed feeling a sense of déjà vu like she ought to be familiar with all of this. Then it occurred to her that these were some of the memories that she’d inherited through the medallion from Molly.

At the end of the hallway they found the steps that led to the ground floor. At the door they also found a line of police tape.

“Do you think it counts as crossing a police line if we’re trying to get out?” Molly whispered.

Logan punched him in the shoulder happy that Molly could see the humor in this. “Let’s just move.” Then she paused, “How much time do you think has passed?”

Molly shook his head, “I have no idea. I can only say that time seemed to flow faster when Dad and I explored Arda than it does here.”

Molly moved forward and Logan followed behind looking around as she went. She could see signs that repairs had been started here. So this meant that at least a few days had passed. Yet the house felt strangely empty. Normally there was a live-in staff and security twenty four seven.

Now on the main floor Logan looked at Molly, “Now what?”

“Come on, if Richard is here he’ll be in the master bedroom.”

Feeling a little uneasy Logan followed Molly through the empty house and up into the family wing. Once on the second floor Molly led them down to the end of the wing. Richard Falk’s master bedroom suite took up the entire end of the hall. As they approached Logan suddenly stopped.

“Let me have the Key.”

A little reluctantly Molly answered, “I don’t have it.”

“What?”

“I left it with Narmartë. I told her that if they ever needed us they could use it to come here.”

Logan sighed, “I guess that’s for the best. Without it no one from our world can use the gate.”

Without another word Molly set off moving to the end of the hallway and then he turned to Logan. “Ready?”

“Sure.”

“Do you want to knock or shall I?”

Logan shrugged, “You’re his daughter.”

“I don’t look like it at the moment.” Then with a nod, “Fine, I’ll do it. Just don’t be surprised if he shoots me.”

Molly knocked on the door, “Mr. Falk?”

Logan was puzzled by this and then realized that Richard didn’t know her former voice well enough to identify it. It was better to use a term of address that wouldn’t alarm him.

“Mr. FALK?” This time Molly knocked louder, “RICHARD?!”

There was movement from within the room and then a light flickered on under the door.

“Who is it?”

Molly looked at Logan and motioned for her to move forward. With a sigh Logan stepped up.

“It’s Molly and Logan. We’re back.”

There was the sound of hurried movement behind the door and then it jerked open causing both Logan and Molly to stand there blinking. Richard Falk stood there staring at them fumbling with his bathrobe tie and then he rushed forward sweeping Logan into a hug.

“Molly! I’m so glad you’re safe! I was so worried about you.”

For a second Logan couldn’t react. Feeling stunned she slowly reached up to awkwardly pat Richard on the back.

“Um, it’s okay, Daddy. We’re back now.”

At this Richard released Logan and turned to Molly and extended his hand. “I can’t thank you enough Logan. You kept my baby safe!”

Molly reached out and traded grips with Richard and then the older man turned to look at Logan again. “Come, I’ve got a good bottle of Scotch in my study. I insist you tell me what happened and how you managed to return safe and sound, in the middle of the night no less!”

As he led the way back down the hallway Molly and Logan exchanged confused glances. What was going on?

Logan knew where the study was and had to fight the urge to hold back so she could talk with Molly. In a few seconds Richard threw open a heavy wooden door and turned on a light switch. Several lamps around the room came to life bathing the space in a warm yellow glow.

“Please, Logan, have a seat.”

Richard had moved to a small table and was pouring an amber fluid into three crystal glasses. Then he turned around and handed one to Logan and one to Molly before taking up the third glass.

“To safe returns!” He said and held out his glass. “Safe returns.” Molly and Logan mumbled and then drank. Logan couldn’t help sputtering as the smooth whiskey burned.

“Come sit by me Molly. I just want to look at you. I’ve been so worried. You’ve been gone for three days!” As he said this, Richard moved to the leather sofa pulling Logan along with him.

“Only three days?!” Molly exclaimed and then settled into a brown leather chair.

Richard cocked his head and then nodded. “Yes, what do you mean, only?”

“He means we went through the gate and to us we’ve been gone for well over a month.” Logan said trying to keep her voice steady.

“Oh . . .” Then Richard reached out to grip Logan’s soft arm. “Tell me everything.”

After a moment’s hesitation Logan lifted her glass and finished the whiskey and then nodded. “This is a long story so I’ll just give you the highlights.” With that she launched explaining the ruined tower, the attack of the giant spiders, and their meeting the Elves. By the time she was explaining about the attack on Lindornëa Logan noticed she was slurring her words.

“Is it hot in here?” Logan asked feeling sweat bead up on her forehead and looked over to see that Molly had fallen asleep in his chair. She tried to speak but for some reason she couldn’t get her mouth to work properly. Then her glass slipped out of numb fingers to crash onto the hard wood floor shattering into a thousand pieces.

Logan felt her body tilt sideways and saw Richard stand up, a wide grin splitting his face.

“Yes, Molly, I added something to your drink. The drug won’t hurt you but you’re going to be sleeping for a while.”

Then darkness closed in and Logan knew no more.

“Ughhh . . .” Logan wasn’t sure if it was the pounding in her head or the ache in her back from the hard surface she was on that hurt worse. ‘Where am I,’ she wondered. The room was dark and when she tried to roll onto her side as she felt something around her neck.

“Woof!”

Logan lifted her head and pushed herself into a sitting position. Then she focused on bringing up her night vision. As she did she realized that she was only wearing panties and a bra. No wonder she was cold!

“Woof . . . woof”

The urgent barking caused her to look to her right and there in an iron kennel was a mangy look mutt of a dog. Its fur was matted and Logan could see the blood on its muzzle.

“You’re awake.”

Logan turned and directly across from her she spotted Molly sitting on a blanket with his back against the opposite wall. He’d been stripped down to a set of boxers but the cold didn’t seem to be bothering him.

“Where are we?”

Molly shook his head and brought his cuffed hands to his lips to indicate caution. “Well, MOLLY, I would think you’d recognize this place. This is the store room behind the kitchen.”

Logan nodded and remembered the events from before and the fact that Molly was calling her ‘Molly’ was telling. Logan brought her hands up and realized that unlike Molly her hands weren’t handcuffed. She used one finger to touch her ear and Molly nodded. He was using his ability to see in the dark and he obviously thought that someone was listening in on them.

“My father drugged us? Why would he do that?”

At this the dog started whimpering. Logan glanced at the dog and stood up. For a second she had to fight for her balance and when she reached out to the wall for support she found the chain. Logan grabbed the stainless steel chain and realized that it ran from the collar around her neck to a grommet set into the concrete floor not far from the blanket she’d been laying on.

“I’ve got one too.”

Logan glanced over at Molly and saw that he too was chained in place.

“What the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know, but can you reach the bucket?” Molly pointed to a pail that was closer to Logan by the kennel.

Logan moved to the end of her chain and found that the bucket was just in reach. As she grabbed it the dog moved to the edge of the kennel and wagged its tail as it looked at her. Molly shook her head, “You’re a friendly fella.” She carried the bucket over to Molly and discovered that she and Molly had just enough chain to exchange the bucket, if she stretched. As soon as Molly had it he sat it on the floor to one side of the blanket he was using as a mat and pulled out his large cock and cut loose with a heavy stream of urine.

Logan glanced away, suddenly embarrassed at watching Molly pee. Then she took a quick peek and realized that Molly’s penis captivated her. ‘What does it feel like to have one?’ she wondered and then the strangeness of the thought struck her. Was she now so far gone into femininity that she no longer remembered what it felt like to use her own penis to take a piss?

Almost in a panic Logan closed her eyes and tried to remember things from her life as a man. Basic training, BUD/S, and her time on the Teams, the memories were there but they’d somehow faded; almost like they’d happened to someone else. Then Logan thought about Molly and the memories came to her sluggishly. Learning to ride a horse and Shooting trap with her dad, and playing volleyball. These memories were fainter than her memories of being Logan but if she focused on then she could find them. ‘What is wrong with me?’ she wondered, ‘am I losing my mind?’

“Ah, noth’n like a good piss.”

Logan glanced back in time to see Molly tuck his man-meat back into his boxers. Then Molly caught Logan’s eye and smirked.

“It sure is nice to take a piss standing up.”

“Shut up.”

At this Logan sat back down tucking her legs under her and took the chain in her hands. Logan closed her eyes and concentrated. Melchiresa was a Maiar and the Daughter of the Morning-Star, whatever that meant. But she was also the mistress of Air, Fire, and Metal. Logan focused on the metal and could feel the power within her touch it. For several seconds she stroked the chain feeling her power move through it. Then the door burst open.

Richard Falk moved into the cell carrying a bag in one hand and flipped on a light switch with the other. Logan had to blink against the bright light.

“Daddy, what . . . are you doing? What’s going on?” Logan tried to put as much fear into her voice as she could but she’d always been a terrible actor.

Richard sat the bag down and there was a heavy sounding clink of metal. Then he looked at Molly and grinned, a creepy sort of grin.

“You are looking really hot, Molly. Have you ever thought of doing it with daddy?”

“What?! No!” Logan scooted back and tried to cover as much of her exposed flesh as she could.

Richard laughed. “Why so shy?”

“You are not my father!” Logan said, suddenly sure.

At this the smile faded from Richard’s face and for a second he looked confused. Then he turned to Molly, “Hi, Logan. Don’t you recognize your old pal Owen?”

“What?”

At this Molly surged to his feet and glared at the false Richard. “No fucking way! How is this possible?”

“An interesting story. But first a small demonstration is in order.”

With that Owen pulled another chain and collar from the bag and fitted it to a third grommet. Then he put on a set of gloves and took a plastic bag from his pocket. He went over to the kennel and opened it.

The mutt cringed back away from Owen and made a whimpering sound but Owen grabbed it roughly by the scruff of its neck and lifted the poor animal out. The dog whimpered as he carried it over to the chain and collar.

“What are you going to do with the dog, you bastard?” Molly said, sounding furious.

“Poor, thing. If you hurt it I’ll kill you.” Logan added in her sweet tones.

Owen glanced over at Logan and laughed, “Such a temper for such a beautiful little thing. Watch and learn or you might find yourself running around on paws.”

The collar that Owen snapped around the dog’s neck was way too big but then he pulled out a medallion from the plastic bag and put it on the dog. Logan’s breath caught. She recognized that necklace from the night she’d become Molly! Then he reached into another pocket and drew out a small scrap of cloth and pressed it to the medallion.

The dog yelped and then whimpered in response. Owen quickly returned the medallion to its plastic bag and dropped the cloth in front of the dog.

“What are you doing to that dog?”

Molly had moved forward and Logan could tell that he was ready to use his power if he needed to.

“Hehehe, watch and learn Logan.” Owen held up the plastic bag now containing the medallion, “With this I get to decide who becomes what. And brother, I’ve got plans for you! I think you’ll look real nice with a pair of tits.”

“Look!” Logan said and Molly looked at the dog. Most of its fur had been pulled into its body and it was growing rapidly. The poor thing couldn’t have been more than twenty pounds to start with so the weight gain was rapid. Its skin was getting lighter and lighter and it slowly took on a human shape. Then it sat up and Logan saw it reach up with hands to touch its’ now human mouth.

“Woo- -goddd. Damn you!”

The transformation of the voice from dog to high pitched human was a strange twist that made Logan want to vomit.

“Watch it or the next time you piss me off, you’ll be a fish!”

“Ughhh . . .”

The former dog moved its new hand from its face to run it through its new raven locks. Then as the hair continued to cascade down its back the former dog stood up and Logan saw that it was clearly a she. The girl was a tiny thing and a pair of small firm breasts blossomed on her chest. She glanced down and then up at the much taller Owen.

“What are you . . . no who are you turning me into?”

“I did you a favor! You didn’t like being your daughter so I spent some time and got this new look for you. I’ve always Japanese girls were hot!”

The words slowly penetrated Molly’s brain and he whispered softly, “Daddy?”

By now the change had stopped and what had once been small high breasts were full blown tits and on such a petite girl they looked disproportionately large. For a second Logan wondered how the girl managed not to fall over.

“See, now when we have sex you can’t complain about incest.”

“How about rape!” Logan snarled. “There is no way R-Daddy, had sex in my body with you willingly!”

Owen grinned over at Logan, “True. But now I’ve got the real you, plus an Asian beauty and soon I’ll have a sexy little blonde to go with you two!”

“You know you’ll never get away with this?” Molly stated in an icy tone.

Owen shook his head. “I don’t need to be Richard for very long. Just long enough for one of you three to tell me how the gate works.” He patted the pocket holding the medallion, “With this and a few of the artifacts I’ve discovered in Richard’s collection, and a new world? I’ll be whoever I want and do anything I want.”

With that he picked up the now empty bag that had held the chain and collar Richard was now wearing.

“I’ll leave you three to talk. But know this. I’ll have the secret from one of you. Sooner or later, and who or what you are when I’m done will depend on how helpful you are!”

With that he left the room leaving the light on. For several seconds the three of them just looked at each other.

Current Situation:

Having returned to earth Molly and Logan are taken by surprise and betrayed. Now captured their bodies and identities are threatened by a villain who has unlocked the secrets of the Medallion.

Author Note:

1: This story is based on the Altered Fates Universe concept established by Jennifer Adams, however I’ve taken some artistic liberties so this story doesn’t strictly adhere to the rules Jennifer established.

2: This is also a fanfic of the J.R.R. Tolkien world of Middle Earth in an untold tale of the First Age. Please note; I didn’t stay completely true to the Middle Earth that Tolkien set up. This is my take on what Middle Earth in the First Age might have been like.

3: I want to send a big thank you to Eric and Shizuma for beta reading, proofreading, and offering plot ideas! I also need to thank Mr. 20” Biceps for thoroughly reading and proofreading each draft, for giving me sound advice, and telling me to get back to writing as I can sometimes become distracted with other things. This story is much better because of their efforts!

“Richard?” Logan asked.

For a second the busty woman just stared at Logan and then she nodded. When she did Logan realized she was very young, maybe sixteen or seventeen.

“Are y-you,” before she could finish Molly interrupted. “Yes, it’s us. You hired me to take care of Molly and I kept the promise I made to you on your back patio.”

For a second the girl looked confused and Logan reached up to tap her finger to her ear. Richard saw it and nodded.

“O-oh. Okay.”

“Can you tell us what happened to you during the attack?”

Richard looked down at the panties lying on the floor. With a sigh she picked them up and stepped into them. Then she moved over to the Kennel and reached inside to pull out the blanket the dog had been using. She quickly folded it and settled cross-legged onto it.

“He could have at least left me a bra or a t-shirt.” she muttered before looking at Molly and Logan. “I heard the alarm go off. It woke me out of a deep sleep. My first thought was to get to you two and head to the panic-room on the second floor. Only you were both already gone.”

“We went out for an early morning run.” Molly whispered.

“Oh, yeah, that sounds like you two. Well, I got to the panic-room and sealed myself in. Most of the power was cut and my cell had no reception once in the room. But I don’t think Owen or the terrorists knew about the emergency alarm set up with its own land line from the panic-room directly to the Firm. I activated it and waited. I watched the video monitors set up in the panic-room as the terrorists killed everyone.”

At this she shook her head and a tear leaked down her face. After a couple of seconds she glanced back at Logan and Molly and shook her head. “Then I saw the two of you. The way you were able to cut the terrorists down, it was amazing. I saw you two seal yourselves in the vault and then I saw that bastard Owen blow the wall. I thought you were both dead.” Richard looked down and wrapped her arms around her breasts holding herself tight. “God these things still feel so weird.”

“Weirder than being a dog?” Molly asked.

“No, but when I was a dog, there were a lot of things I didn’t understand. I think the magic of the medallion turned my brain into a dog’s brain.”

“That makes sense,” Logan said and then at a sharp look from Molly added. “At least based on what I saw it do to you.”

“Anyway Owen must have known about the panic-room because shortly after he blew the vault my video feeds died. It must have been a couple of hours later when the door opened up and I found myself looking at . . . myself.”

“What?” Molly exclaimed.

Richard nodded. “Yeah, I’d left the medallion in the wall safe in my bedroom. Owen got it and recognized it. He told me later that he saw a SWAT team arrive and knew they couldn’t win. So he used it to change into a clone of me. He caught me off guard and before I knew it I felt a tingle.” Richard looked at Molly and said, “He’d found one of your Easter dresses from when you were about three. I-it was only a matter of minutes before I found out what it’s like to be a little girl.” Richard shook her head. “I haven’t had a cock since that day.”

“Oh, d-Richard, I’m so sorry.” Molly said, and tried to reach out to her but the chain wasn’t long enough.

“Yeah, well, being a girl isn’t all bad.” Logan asserted.

Richard looked back and forth between Molly and Logan and sighed, “I guess I shouldn’t complain. Anyway he left me in the panic-room and I was too small to work the controls to get out. I don’t know how long I was there, most of the day I think. By the time he came and got me the police were gone and the Firm had sent over more guards. He locked me in here, but gave me a few blankets. Once enough time had passed he came in and ordered me to put the medallion on and then a top.” Looking at Molly Richard said, “It was your cheerleading uniform from high school.”

“Oh.”

“Then he r-raped me.”

“Oh, god. I’m so sorry.” Molly said. “That’s awful,” Logan added simultaneously.

Richard nodded, “I-I tried to fight. I told him it was wrong on so many levels but he didn’t care. He’d done something to his body, too. He must have found a set of my clothes from when I was in my twenties. He used that plus the hat I’d worn the day before at the same time. From the neck up he looks just like me, but from the neck down he’s a younger version of me.” Richard shook her head and in a numb voice continued. “He also figured out that he could use a brand new jock, with a much larger cup to increase his size. Because the next time he used me he must have had a nine inch dick.” She looked at Molly and Logan, “But you’ll see that for yourselves soon enough, unless you can show him how to use the Gate. I tried but without the key it was useless.”

“How did you end up a dog?” Logan asked.

Richard stared numbly into the floor and then started shaking. “I disobeyed.” Her voice was a whisper, “You can’t disobey. Oh, God, I can’t be a dog again.” She looked at Molly, “You’ve got the Key, right? Let’s just give it to him. He’ll leave and it will all be over.”

“We don’t have the Key.” Molly said. “We left it on the other side.”

For a second Richard sat still and then tears started leaking down her cheeks. Soon she was sobbing and gasping for air, “The master is going to be very angry. Good girls do what they’re told. Good girls keep the master happy.”

Logan and Molly exchanged looks. Horror turned to anger and anger turned to rage.

The door boomed open and a tall athletic looking Richard Falk strode in carrying a small sack. “So bitches, are you ready to talk?” The smile turned to a snarl when Owen saw Richard, “What makes you think you get to cover up?!”

Richard quickly took the blanket that Molly had tossed to her and dropped it from her shoulders exposing her naked breasts. “I-I’m sorry, master.”

Owen moved forward until he was in the middle of the room and glared down at Richard, “I thought you’d learned your lesson about obedience. Well, I’ve got a few new ideas that might get the point across.”

“Leave her alone!” Molly snarled standing up and moving toward Owen. Then the chain on his collar snapped taunt stopping him just short of his target.

“Ha! Do you think I’m a fool Logan?” Owen turned to look at Molly. “I’ve not forgotten the last time we sparred at the Firm gym. You were pretty proud of the beat down you gave me. Well, I’ve got something very special for you my old friend.”

With that he pulled out the medallion and tossed it to Molly. Molly reacted quickly twisting away so that the necklace didn’t touch him. Instead, it hit the wall and bounced to the floor at Molly’s feet.

“I’m not touching that thing!”

“Oh, I think you’ll put it on.” Owen pulled out a gun and pointed it at Molly.

“If you kill me, you won’t get what you want.”

“True, but I don’t have to kill you. I could just shoot you a bit and then after you pass out from blood loss put the medallion on you. When the magic changes you it’ll also heal you.” Then Owen chuckled, “In fact I’d almost rather do it that way. Last chance, this will either be easy or hard.”

For a second Molly just glared at Owen and then he reached down picked up the necklace and put it on.

“Now what?”

Owen reached into the cargo pocket of the khaki pants he was wearing and pulled out a pair of black panties. “Time for a change, touch these to the medallion.” With that he tossed the panties at Molly.

“And if I refuse?”

Owen shook his head, “Fuck it.”

“CRACK!”

The report of the 9mm was loud enough to make Logan and Richard jump.

“Aaghhhh . . .” Molly fell forward grabbing his left leg as blood poured from the wound.

“I can keep on shooting you or you can pick up those panties and tie them to the medallion!”

“You bastard!” Logan said, now on her feet.

Owen looked back over his shoulder at Logan, “I’ll deal with you later sweetheart,” and then turned away dismissing her. Molly glared up at Owen after a second Owen shrugged and lifted his gun again. “The other leg?”

“Bitch, I’m gonna kill you!” Molly snarled and then reached out and picked up the panties with blood covered fingers and wrapped them around the medallion.

"Excellent.” Owen said staring down at Molly as his hair started to change color. He was so focused on Molly’s transformation that he failed to hear the soft snapping sound as Logan broke the chain holding her at the grommet. With a snap of her wrist Logan sent four feet of chain spinning through the air. It snaked around Owen’s gun arm and Logan jerked hard.

The gun spun away and Owen was pulled around in time to see Logan bring the chain around her head for another strike. Logan swung the chain for Owen’s head but he ducked the swing and drove a right-cross into Logan’s gut folding her over.

“Bitch, I don’t know how you got free but you’re going to pay for that!”

Owen raised his left hand to bring a hammer strike down on the back of Logan’s head. But Logan lurched forward and used her momentum to turn it into a front shoulder roll putting some distance between her and Owen.

Owen closed on Logan quickly and tried to drive a front stomp kick into Logan’s chest. Logan twisted and side-stepped the attack and hit Owen with a left cross into his floating ribs.

“Ugh,” Owen staggered back, “that hurt. You’re stronger than you look.”

Logan didn’t bother to answer instead she reached for her power and felt the tattoo on her back burn. She snapped a round-house kick that Owen blocked but he staggered back under the power of the blow. Logan spun around allowing the chain to whip out and Owen ducked it but the chain smashed into the wall knocking chunks of pulverized brick to the floor.

“What the fuck!” Owen gasped out and then pulled a pair of knives from his waist band. “What are you?”

Logan felt her body trying to morph and forced the change back down. ‘I don’t want him to know the full extent of my power,’ she thought. “What haven’t you ever seen a girl kick ass before?”

Owen shook his head, “For a second I thought your eyes were glowing. You’ve got some artifact that your using don’t you?!”

Then he lunged forward with his left-handed knife, Logan slid back knowing that Owen liked to lead with a faint. Just as she thought he came in with an over-hand blow. Twisting the chain between both hands Logan caught the descending knife strike with the chain and spun around in a circle. As she did she got her hip under Owen and brought both of her arms down. The hip throw caught Owen off guard and he landed hard on his back.

Before Logan could take advantage of it Owen slashed at her with his remaining knife. Logan lurched backward feeling the burn of a cut on her arm and she reflexively dropped the chain. Then Owen was on his feet.

“Bitch, you fight just like Logan. He’s obviously been training you. But it won’t be enough.” As he said this he turned his body sideways the knife in his lead hand. “I’m going to hurt you and then I’m going to fuck you.” As he spoke he moved to Logan’s right trying to circle her.

Logan moved with him staying out of reach ready to react her every sense hyper alert as she pulled more power into her. It flowed from the tattoo on her back and Logan could feel her skin start to change her bones shifting and she knew in that instant if she drew any more power she’d trigger the full change and become a copy of Melchiresa.

Owen started to lunge, “CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!”

In slow motion Logan watched as three red spots appeared on Owen’s chest. Then he crumbled to the ground next to his forgotten bag as his knife tumbled from a now limp hand. Logan spun around and saw Richard standing with her legs spread apart holding Owen’s gun in a shaky hand.

“Richard?”

At the sound of Logan’s voice Richard blinked and looked at her, and then lowered the gun. “Molly?”

Logan shook her head, “No, I’m Logan, don’t you remember?” Logan moved toward Richard as she stared in horror at Logan.

“What have I done?”

“Richard, you did what you needed to do. It’s okay.”

The gun fell from her hand to clatter on the floor and then Richard collapsed into Logan’s arms as sobs wracked her small frame. For a second Logan held Richard awkwardly and then she released the power she’d been holding and started to stroke Richard’s hair.

“It’ll be okay. We’re back. He’s gone and we’ve got the medallion.” As she spoke Logan couldn’t help glancing over her shoulder at Molly. He was on the floor and writhing around as if in pain. He now had long blonde hair and a cute girl next door face. But the changes hadn’t stopped there. Her skin had turned a pale creamy color and breasts had started to blossom from her chest.

Then Logan spotted the tattoo on Molly’s arm. The trident was glowing brightly. “Ahhhh . . .” Molly’s moan wasn’t that loud but he rolled over and Logan saw the other two tattoos were glowing as well. Then Molly reached up and pulled the necklace off and let it fall to one side. His whole body rippled and convulsed.

“What’s wrong with him?” Richard whispered.

“I think the magic of the Maiar that we now carry is clashing with the magic of the medallion.”

Then before Logan could say anything else pain exploded in the back of her head and she was sent flying forward. For a second she was too stunned to move and this almost cost her life. Pain exploded in her ribs as a vicious kick lifted her and bounced her off the nearest wall and then the power of Melchiresa flooded into her and her body shifted. In less than a second she roared to her feet wings spreading wide behind her and she caught the massive gauntlet covered hand with both of hers as it descended. The weight of the blow was almost too much and then Logan lashed out with a front snap kick that took her opponent in the chin and caused him to stagger back.

Gasping for breath Logan got her first good look at her foe and saw that it was Richard or rather Owen still wearing Richards body, but it had been altered. He was now wearing a pair of gauntlets that glowed a fierce red. However, the glow didn’t stop with the gauntlets. It had flowed up covering Owen’s body and it had changed him. He’d grown taller and wider splitting his clothes and Logan noticed that the bullet holes were gone from his now naked chest.

“Do you like the new look, bitch?!”

Owen’s voice echoed with a weird quality and then before Logan could answer Owen lunged forward slamming an open hand palm strike into her chest. The world went red and Logan felt her back hit the wall and the wall gave in and she found herself sliding across the lawn behind the house. Above, Logan could just make out the rising moon and she blinked. Her whole body ached and she knew that she’d broken a few ribs.

Logan pushed herself into a sitting position in time to see Owen climb out the hole in the wall. He was too big for the hole and he used his gauntlet covered hands to enlarge it even as he came through. Logan climbed to her feet and felt her broken right wing hanging limply. Rage flooded Logan and she reached for the well of power that was Melchiresa et Maiar. There was less power in her core than Logan was used to yet she drew on all of it.

She felt it race through her body healing her in a ripple of magic and then she felt the hilt of her Kris in her right and the glowing sphere of power cover her left even as the corset, leather pants, and boots materialized around her. Owen had just finished climbing out of the house when Logan extended her left hand, a blast of fire lashed out. Somehow Owen got his gauntlet covered hands up in an x-block and the fire splashed against a barely visible dome of red energy.

“Who are you?”

Owen’s voice still held that weird quality and Logan noticed that she could now look directly into his eyes. They were both larger than a normal human but Logan knew that she wasn’t nearly as tall as she’d been the last time she’d assumed her full Maiar form.

“I’ve been called many things. Molly Falk, Ilcaúrna et Maiar, Melchiresa Daughter of the Morning Star, Mistress of Air, Fire, and Metal, but my true name is Logan Campbell!”

For a second Owen blinked and his face shifted into something more human and then a sneer replaced it as he laughed.

“Perhaps you were once Logan Campbell, but you have moved beyond your mortal existence. I don’t recognize your name, but I can feel another immortal. I must thank you. If not for your actions this mortal would never have dared to free me. So know this Melchiresa, I am Pallas, Scion of Battle.”

Then Owen straightened up and gestured to Logan with an outstretched hand.

“There is no reason for us to fight. Few of our kind are free to walk upon this world. Come with me and together we can rule these simple mortals.”

Logan shook her head. “I’ve no wish to rule anyone and the mortal whose body you’ve taken has caused me and those I care for grievous harm.”

A vicious grin split Pallas face and he slammed his gauntlet covered hands together and red power flowed over his body. Logan blinked and when her vision cleared Pallas was covered in armor and held a mighty two-handed long sword in his hands.

“Then let us fight! For I will not give up this mortal’s body now that I’m free!”

Logan lashed out with her will and a tight beam of fire blasted forward only to splash up against Pallas sword. Then he raced forward and Logan snapped her wings taking to the air to avoid a sweeping sword cut. Logan struck next with a fist of hardened air yet somehow Pallas sensed it and blocked it with his sword. Then he pointed his sword up at Logan and she felt some force grab her and when Pallas made a slashing motion with the blade the force threw Logan toward the ground. Somehow she was able to pull in enough air to catch herself before she was smashed flat.

In desperation Logan sent another blast of fire at Pallas and then threw her Kris. Pallas blocked the fire and the Kris hit his armored thigh sinking all the way to the hilt.

“Argh!”

Pallas’ cry echoed around the estate and several windows on this side of the house shattered. Then Logan held out her hand and the Kris flew back to her. As it flew through the air it changed, growing to the size of a short sword by the time it smacked into her palm.

“Give up now and I’ll see what I can do to send you to another realm.”

Rather than answer Pallas slammed his sword into the ground and it buckled and moved in an undulating wave that raced toward Logan. Logan snapped her wings down expecting to escape into the air except some force held her to the ground. Then the power hit and Logan’s whole body exploded in pain as she was tossed to one side. For a second nothing mattered except the pain roaring through her body and then Logan was looking up at Pallas.

He stood over her with his sword point extended so that it was touching her throat.

“You have fought valiantly. But I am a Lord of Battle. Yield, and I will let you live.”

Logan opened her mouth to respond when a crack of thunder shook the air and Pallas was hurled to one side as a trident made of lightning hit him.

“You aren’t the only Lord of Battle to walk the land, Pallas!”

Logan saw Molly moving forward in full Kratos guise. He must have been ten feet tall covered in glowing armor. Pallas snarled something and leapt forward and the sound of his sword striking Kratos shield sounded like thunder. Logan slowly climbed to her feet mesmerized by the fight. They were a contrast in styles. Where Pallas was all rage and power attacking in a frenzy of blows meant to overwhelm, Molly was utterly calm. Molly used his shield and trident putting on a dizzying display of skill that confused and defeated Pallas at every turn. Yet despite it all they looked evenly matched.

‘Well, there’s no such thing as a fair fight.’ Logan thought and reached out with Air tripping Pallas. His sudden lurch to one side as he stumbled was all the opening Molly needed and his trident slammed into Pallas throat. For a second the two warriors were frozen then Molly stepped back ripping his trident free in a fountain of blood and gore.

Pallas dropped his sword and sank to his knees and as he did the red glow flowed down into the gauntlets. As the glow faded he shrank in size and the armor that had covered his body disappeared.

“I will remember this Kratos. There will come a day when I will seek you out and you won’t have a woman to save you.”

The words were softer fading toward end and then all of the energy disappeared into the gauntlets. Then as if slamming a prison door closed the gauntlets fell from Owen’s lifeless hands.

Logan looked into the mirror studying her reflection. It had taken her two tries to get the makeup just right. But it was worth the effort since she had to admit the red-head staring back at her was stunning. For all the time she’d spent as Molly Logan hadn’t had access to a mirror very often so the image was still one she was getting used to. Logan stood up and smoothed out her dress before stepping into the heels and heading down stairs.

Then click-clack of her shoes on the floor was a reminder of how much had changed over the last few months. Well, days here, but months from Logan’s perspective. Then she stepped into the dining room and spotted Molly staring out a window. As soon as she entered the room Molly turned around and flashed Logan a bright smile.

“Ah, I always loved the way that dress looked.”

Logan felt her face flush but ignored it and spun around in a quick twirl. “So, how do I look?”

“Beautiful.”

As he said it Molly moved across the room and scooped up Logan’s hand kissing her fingers. For a second Logan had a flash back to the moment Molly had met him on the front steps of the estate. Then Molly was pulling out a chair and helping Logan to sit down. The table was small since this was the private dining room and the Falk’s had always like to keep things informal whenever they could. The table had been set for three and one spot was conspicuously missing.

“The staff did a great job with dinner. I don’t think you’ve had Stephanie’s roast beef before.”

Logan nodded as the wonderful smell of dinner wafted up from the dish that Molly uncovered.

“I can remember having this, but the memory is like the memory of a dream.”

Molly nodded, “Yeah, I know what you mean. I’ve discovered that experiencing it helps to connect to the memory.”

“Is that why you spent yesterday at my apartment?”

Molly nodded, “It helped me to connect to my new identity.”

At this Logan looked down. She felt like she ought to be upset, Molly seemed more than ready to just step into his old life.

“Did you try the medallion?”

The question caused Logan to look up and then she nodded. “I did.” Then she shook her head, “It didn’t work for me either. I felt it start to change me and then it clashed with my power and it was sort of like the magic from the medallion just faded away.”

“Kratos told me before I went through the gate that I’d been changed. I think this is what he meant. We are now both part Maiar.”

“Melchiresa said something similar. I didn’t understand it until now.”

Molly nodded and then they fell silent. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence more like the quiet of two close friends lost in thought. Then Logan broke the quiet.

“Will Richard be joining us?”

“You mean your father?” Molly gave Logan a very direct look.

With a sigh Logan said, “Yes, will Daddy be joining us?”

Molly shook his head. “No, I don’t think so. I talked to him earlier he’s still having trouble . . . dealing with everything.”

“Did you suggest using the medallion?”

“Yeah, and I think he will. I gave him his jacket from the night we swapped and told him to put the medallion on and then hold it to the jacket for the full thirty minutes.”

Logan nodded, “I doubt that he’ll lose his memories of what happened with Owen. But maybe they’ll fade a bit.”

“I hope so, but I think he’s going to need counseling. There are times when I wish I hadn’t killed Owen so I could do it over again slower.”

With nothing else to say Logan reached out and started serving. For the next few minutes they both focused on eating. The food was delicious and for a while it was good enough to simply eat.

“Have you finished going through Daddy’s inventory?” Logan asked.

Molly shook his head. “Not yet. I’ve been able to account for about seventy five to eighty percent of the artifacts Richard collected. Unfortunately some of the terrorists managed to escape and they took a few pieces with them.”

“Any more like those damn gauntlets?”

“It’s hard to tell. There were items whose power Richard had cataloged and then other’s marked unknown.”

“These terrorists, they aren’t really terrorists are they?” Logan asked.

“No, they’re part of a cult. Something called Mysterium Custodis.”

“The Guardians of the Mysteries?” Logan asked.

Molly nodded, “They were responsible for killing your mother and the attack on you. Evidently they were able to buy Owen and once he was convinced that magic was real he saw it as an opportunity to get ahead.”

“I guess it makes sense. Especially since he’d been caught on video killing the members of the Firm here. He couldn’t just go back to his old identity.”

“But he didn’t want to just assume Richard’s identity. He wanted a fresh start I think that’s why he was so focused on using the gate. A new world to explore and the ability to take any identity was a temptation he couldn’t resist. Plus, he’d obviously found several of Richard’s remaining artifacts even if he didn’t know what they would do.”

Logan reached out for her glass of wine and noticed that her lipstick had left a mark on the crystal. She paused for a second before taking a drink and then looked over at Molly.

“What about us?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play stupid. We’ve both tried the medallion and it doesn’t work on us now.”

Molly reached out and grabbed Logan’s small hand in his large calloused one. “Molly, face it. We’re stuck. We’re going to have to assume each other’s identity.”

Logan stared into Molly’s face and realized that she no longer thought of it as her old face.

“Yeah, I know. But I feel bad. I mean you’re losing your family, your body, and all of your inheritance. I feel like a thief.”

At this Molly laughed, “Is that what’s been bothering you? Molly, I wouldn’t switch back with you if I could. I don’t see myself as female any more. My experiences in Nevrast and being bonded to Kratos . . . they changed me. I’m only now really starting to understand the full extent of the changes, but I’ve got NO interest in being a woman.”

“Well, LOGAN, Melchiresa changed me too. I tried to fight it, but the time I spent with Turgon taught me I’m no longer male.” Then the new Molly let out a giggle, “I mean, why on Earth would I want to go back to being some hairy, smelly, guy?!”

The new Logan chuckled and let go of Molly’s hand. “So what’s next for you?”

“I’ll take care of Daddy. Make sure the estate is repaired and then take over our financial concerns. Daddy isn’t in any condition to make important decisions. Oh, and I’ll finish school. What about you?”

“Well, with the money you deposited into my account I don’t need to work. So I’ll quit the Firm. I think I’m entitled to a vacation.” Then his face clouded up and he looked away.

“You’re still hurting over Tanna?”

“Yeah, maybe I can find a beach someplace with a large supply of beer and females.”

“I’m not sure that’s the best way to deal with her death.” The new Molly said and then continued. “There’s a room for you here, whenever you want it. You’re more like family now.”

“Thanks. I think I’m going to go for a drive. My car somehow managed to survive all of the chaos without a scratch.”

After Logan left Molly went out into the backyard and looked up at the moon. She knew there was no one else on the estate besides Richard and took advantage of it. She summoned her power and her clothes shifted to black leather as red-hair shifted to midnight tresses. With a snap of her wings Molly launched herself into the air glorying in the power of flight. There was a chance the Mysterium Custodis would return and make another attempt on the estate. If they did they’d be in for a rather large surprise.

Author Note:

If you enjoyed this story please take a moment to leave a comment. Reader feedback is very important to me.

Cheers

Zapper

PS – Is there any interest in seeing a continuation of this story?

Glossary for AF: “The Bodyguard”

This is intended as a stand alone document to support Altered Fates: "The Bodyguard." I was advised to create this document due to the length and complexity of "The Bodyguard" to prevent readers from getting lost in the possibly unfamilair names, terms, and places I used in the story.

- Logan Campbell / Ilcaúrna et Maiar / Melchiresa: Main character. Former Navy SEAL now a security agent. Hired to protect Molly [Note: Melchiresa, is the daughter of the morning star, and mistress of air, fire, and metal a very powerful Maiar spirit.]

- Molly Falk / Sornohen et Maiar / Kratos: Main character. College student, daughter of Richard Falk [Note: Kratos, in this mythology, is the Maiar spirit of skilled war. He originally studied under Tulkas but then when Oromë made war upon Melkor he became Oromë’s most skilled Captain] The griffin on Molly’s back is named Boreas.

- Richard Falk: Molly’s father. Collector of Magical Artifacts. Widower. Desperately wants to find a way to bring his dead wife back.

- Sir Aglaron Thlim Duilin – Knight, Master Archer, son of Sir Duilin Lord of the House of Swallows.

- Alarukë – Handmaiden of Morgoth. Third in command of the Balrogs to invade Nevrast, falls in love with Molly in Logan’s body

- Alion – Infantry solider and First-Spear of Molly’s ad hoc army (think Sergeant Major of the Warband)

- Cainir - son of Duvainor, Ranger, part of Narmartë’s squad.

- Sir Fallaistra - Knight Captain of Ilcanalta she is of house Thlim Duilin and becomes one of Molly’s best sub-commanders.

- Gôrlir – Lieutenant to Gothmog. Second-in-Command of the Western Warband and Second-in-Command of the Balrogs and forces of Morgoth invading Nevrast

- Gorlung – Led the surprise attack on Lindornëa. A champion of Balrogs. Defeated by Molly and Logan.

- Gothmog – Captain of Angband, Lord of Balrogs, In Command of the overall assault on Nevrast, leads the First Warband

- Sir Helcëtôr Thlim Ith Mindon – Lord of House Mindon, Knight Commander of the Ondolindë Ranger Crops, Captain of the Ondolindë Knights in Nevrast, charged by King Turgon with defended Nevrast and protecting the seven villages

- Kâlraug – Balrog second in command of the eastern force. He takes command after the death of Vothgær.

- Melkor – The original Ainur name for Morgoth. The most powerful of the Ainur who rebelled against the song of Illúvatar. He is the Tolkien equivalent of the devil.

- Melandrach – Butler and Steward to Penlod and house Climbol. Friend of Narmartë.

- Morgoth: The Elven name for the Melkor, the greatest of the Ainur, the fallen Ainur, the Tolkien equivalent of the devil.

- Narmartë Thlim Ith Mindon – Captain, Ranger of Nevrast, cousin of Sir Helcëtôr and second in line to House Ith Mindon.

- Sir Nenthal – Leader of the surviving Knights of Lindornëa

- Othon - son of Aeglosson, Ranger, part of Narmartë’s squad.

- Owen Hernandez; Firm security agent, rival of Logan’s and traitor.

- Lord Penlod Thlim Climbol – Narmartë’s betrothed and Lord of House Climbol, he leads the Army of Gondolin into battle in Nevrast, when he marries Narmartë he becomes Lord of House Mindon as well

- Sir Ronir Thlim Climbol - Captain of the Ilcanalta Guards. Friend and cousin to Penlod lord of House Climbol.

- Raegdil: Cousin to Narmartë, dies in the fall of Lindornëa

- Sadron – Molly’s Elven Aide-de-Camp.

- Tanna Greenleaf – Female, Master Archer leader of the Lindornëa Archers, and Chief of Molly’s scouts. She is slain by Alarukë who then uses her form to seduce Molly.

- Sir Thanradon – Knight, rode with Sir Helcëtôr, horse was slain, has been an infantry soldier before and now serves Molly as his Infantry Commander

- King Turukáno aka Turgon King of Gondolin

- Valaraukar – The name for the fallen Maiar who became Balrogs.

- Vothgær – The Balrog leader and Captain of the Army from the east. He almost killed Molly when Molly saved Sir Fallaistra and her Warband.

- Xorag - Orc Warchief and Commander of the Warg-Riders

Arda – Elven name for the world created by Illúvatar

Angband – The land ruled by Morgoth, his fortress also bears this name.

Beleriand – The Elven name for middle earth in the first age.

Echoriath - the Mountains that encircle Nevrast.

Nevrast – Kingdom founded and ruled by Turgon upon his return to middle earth from Valinor. He left Nevrast when he disappeared with his people into Tumladen.

Village of Ilcanalta (Just east of the village to Lindornëa)

Village of Laerorn (Village south of the Great Bog but east of Rhovan in Nevrast)

Village of Lanthir (Eastern and south of the Great Bog in Nevrast)

Village of Lindornëa (Westernmost village, north of the Great Bog in Nevrast)

Village of Rhovan (Village south and west of the Great Bog in Nevrast)

Village of Talatphen (Eastern most of the villages north of the Great Bog)

Village of Bertaniel (North of the Great Bog between Talatphen and Ilcanalta)

City of Ondolindë - also known as Gondolin, only city in the Vale of Tumladen. King Turgon’s capital. Designed and built to resemble Tirion the Capital of the Valar.

Vale of Tumladen – the name of the valley King Turgon discovered and where Gondolin was built.

Tirion – Capital city of the of the Valar in Valinor

- Ainur – The name of the first beings created by Illúvatar. They are demi-gods in their own right and much more powerful than the Maiar

- Glingal and Belthil, gold and silver trees in the likeness of Telperion and Laurelin, the Trees of Light

- Hruo: Elven name for Trolls.

- Illúvatar: Elven name for the Creator or God

- Irmo: One of the Ainur, the Lord of Spirits and Dreams, the Master Summoner of the Ainur.

- Maiar: Eternal beings created by Illúvatar, they are the angels of middle earth. They are less in power than the Ainur. They have the power to assume any shape at will.

- Manwë – Most powerful and wisest of the Ainur. King of the Ainur, husband to Yavanna, Lord of the Air and all things that fly.

- Miruvor: Elven name for wine.

- Quenderin – The elven name for elves

- Tulkas – Ainur, lord of the hunt and skilled combat. He is the mightiest wrestler of the Ainur and fought Melkor even when other Ainur didn’t.

- Ulmo: One of the Ainur he has dominion over the Ocean, Seas, and water (Ulmo’s Refrain is water magic)

- Ungoliant: The giant spider goddess. The smaller giant spiders are her children.

- Valinor – Name of the land where the Ainur and Maiar life. The Tolkien equivalent to heaven.

- Valaraukar – Ancient name of the Balrogs

- Varda - Queen of the Stars, the Kindler, spouse of Manwë, titled Elentári in Quenya and Elbereth Gilthoniel in Sindarin. She kindled the first stars before the Ainur descended into the world, and later brightened them with the gold and silver dew from the Two Trees.

- Yavanna – Yavanna is Queen of the Earth and Giver of Fruits, spouse of Aulë, also called Kementári. She created the Two Trees, and is responsible for the Kelvar (animals) and Olvar (plants). It was she who requested the creation of the Ents, as she feared for the safety of the trees once her husband had created the Dwarves.

* Music of the Ainur: The music that created the world. Those that can hear the music and sing it can work magic.

Magic has always existed and is now openly acknowledged. 10% of the population is magically sensitive and 5% can actually be taught to cast spells. Only about 1% have the ability to earn a Magic-User 3^rd Class license. In a country of 300 million that means there are potentially 3 million professional practitioners. However, it takes hard work and training to develop that raw talent. There are currently, in the United States, about 1 million licensed practitioners. Of that about 100,000 are rated Magic-User 2^nd Class, with approximately 10,000 Magic-User 1^st Class, and nearly 300 Masters in the entire country.

The multiverse is layered with world stacked upon world. Stretching out along one axis are the Courts of Order and in the opposite direction the Wastes of Chaos. On a second axis are the Empires of Light and in the other direction the Layers of Hell. Along the third axis are the Demesnes of Science where magic is a parlor trick and in the opposite direction Realms of Magic where mechanical devices are laughed about as myth. Through it all the only thing separating each layer of existence is the veil. The veil is as thin as silk and nearly impenetrable unless one has the power and the skill. For those with the ability it can be parted and thus, Elves, Dwarves, Fairies, Ogres, Orcs, Trolls, and all manner of legendary creatures walk the land.

The power of magic is rising. How humanity reacts will chart the course of civilization for the next thousand years. An Age has come to an end, a new Age has arrived and as yet, no one has noticed.

The late afternoon sunlight streamed down into the food-court from the high vaulted glass and steel ceiling of the north Californian mall. In the mall parking lot lights had started to come on providing plenty of illumination as the tall thin teenager in a long black leather duster made his way into the food-court. A few of the shoppers he passed gave him a quizzical look since it was too warm for such a coat. By the time he made it to the center of the food-court the mall security had spotted him and were slowly moving in. This caused a grim expression of maniacal delight to twist his pale features.

Reaching under the duster his hands came out with a pair of pistols and before the first overweight security guard could react he opened fire, at nearly point blank, into the man’s chest. Chaos exploded around the youth as customers either ran or dove to the ground trying to escape the barrage of bullets. The teen laughing now spun in a circle firing at anything that moved not really trying to hit anyone so much as trying to cause panic and chaos.

A short distance away a thin athletic looking woman with black hair dressed casually raced toward the sound of the gunfire drawing a pistol from beneath her designer blazer as she ran. The gun looked very large in her small hands as she ignored the screams of the shoppers and the confusion around her. She carefully lined up her shot and squeezed the trigger twice. At the last second the teen seemed to become aware of her. At the same instant, as her gun barked, the teen crossed his forearms in front of him as if to shield himself from her attack.

There was a distortion in the air around the young man and a pair of concentric rings rippled out from where the bullets slammed into an invisible wall raised by the youth. When he looked at the woman his eyes blazed with a red light.

“Caecus Cordi! How kind of you to accept my invitation!”

There was something odd about the sound of the teen’s voice! It had a raspy quality like nails being dragged across a chalkboard.

“X’lye’ous, if I’m not mistaken?!” Not waiting for a reply the woman continued, “I’ll be taking your token with me when I leave here today.”

“I don’t think so,” the teen replied and then jumped straight up and impossibly seemed to accelerate toward the glass at the top of the dome. As he did he once again crossed his arms only this time above his head. The glass exploded up and out creating an exit for him to fly through.

“Shit!”

The woman holstered her weapon and dropped to one knee.

“Hold it right there!”

The security guard had his side arm out and had it pointed at her although he was so hyped up with adrenalin that the barrel waved around drunkenly. The woman glanced with annoyance at the guard and then slapped the flat of her hand against the cool tiles. Instantly the shadows, from a nearby potted plant, leapt up covering her in darkness and a moment later when the shadow dissolved she was gone. The guard looked around in bewilderment and not seeing a threat moved to the first wounded shopper to see if he could help.

Outside the mall the teen came down in the parking lot, landing with a shockwave that rocked the cars around him and caused several alarms to go off. He didn’t pause to look around instead he holstered his weapons and slammed one fist into the palm of his other hand and shouted.

“X’LYE’OUS!!!”

Fire exploded out from his hands and raced along his body and impossibly, instead of burning, his body grew and changed as the fire got brighter and hotter covering him from head to toe in flames. The transformation last only a few seconds and when it was done he was ten feet tall and didn’t resemble a human in the slightest. His clothes had burned away leaving his bright red skin exposed. From the waist down his legs had transformed now resembling a gorilla’s. His torso and arms were still human, but instead of having fingers five long snakes writhed and hissed from the end of each hand. His head was a bald human’s except that his nose and mouth had pushed out into a snout and he had a large set of fangs growing up from his lower jaw. Out of his forehead a pair of horns grew curling like a rams. His huge phallus was erect with excitement as he scanned the sky behind him looking for the woman who’d chased him into the parking lot. Then the fire that had covered his body raced down his arms coalescing into a large spear before flickering out. The spear was at least fifteen feet long with a three foot leaf shaped blade at one end and a spiked butt-cap at the other.

“Caecus Cordi, you bitch, come out and fight!”

In response, the shadows between a row of cars behind X’lye’ous leapt up and out stepped a woman. This woman’s face was the same as the one from the mall but that’s where the resemblance ended. She was fifteen feet tall and dressed in black, white, and grey plate-mail resembling an English Knight. A pair of black wings swept up from either side of her helmet and broad sword hung from her belt. She held a bow in her hands and without saying a word she drew and let fly an arrow with a grey shaft, white feathers, and a black arrow head.

X’lye’ous somehow sensed the attack and spun around avoiding the arrow. With a bellow that broke the glass in the car to either side X’lye’ous lunged forward driving his spear toward the Knight of Order. The knight twisted slightly to one side and blocked the attack with her bow. Then she lifted her front leg and planted a stomp kick into X’lye’ous’s chest throwing him back and into a car ten feet behind him. Before X’lye’ous could climb out she drew another arrow and shot X’lye’ous in the chest.

“AAarghhh!!”

X’lye’ous’s scream echoed around the parking lot. Shadows flickered out from the arrow, twisting out and down so that they quickly covered his chest in a web of shadows that disrupted X’lye’ous’s power.

“I told you I’d be taking your token” the woman said drawing a long dagger from her belt.

Without warning the knight stumbled forward and to the side from a blow to her back. She turned the stumble into a front roll and came to her feet dropping the dagger and bringing her bow around to target the new threat. She was facing an eight foot tall monster with the lower body of a spider. Instead of a spider’s head a human looking body grew up from its thorax and its two human arms were unnaturally long. The creature’s head looked like a human skull since it was covered in a transparent skin. In each of its human looking hands it carried a single bladed ax.

The pain from the ax blow to her back made her grimace as the knight nocked and drew an arrow. Before she could fire she was hit from above. The force of the strike caused her to drop the bow and drove her to her knees as the weight of a third monster came down on her shoulders. It struck an ineffective blow against her armored head causing the shadow-steel to ring. Then a blow struck her neck where there was a gap between her armored shoulder and the protection offered by her helmet. At the same time she was driven face down onto her belly. In desperation the knight reached out to the shadows and pulled them around herself and her attacker. When the shadows vanished both figures were gone.

X’lye’ous managed to pull the arrow from his chest and stumble to his feet. He looked around and seeing the place where the knight had been he roared into the night. As he did flames flickered around his wound and it closed.

X’lye’ous looked at the grey shaft with its sliver white feathers and black arrowhead. “You’ve not escaped yet, bitch.”

The moon was just above the horizon and shone down into the clearing when the shadows surged into a swirling knot and then vanished leaving a monster on the back of an armored figure. The monster’s legs at the mid-thigh morphed into a pair of birds legs bending backward at the knee joint, its talons were clutching tightly to the shoulders of the figure under it. Its body was that of a handsome man and it had a pair of large black wings growing out of its back. His head and face were handsome with a strong jaw and high cheekbones. Then a third eye blinked from the center of his forehead as he gazed down at the woman. The only clothing he wore was a loincloth that did little to conceal the huge bulge of his manhood. In each of the Chaos Daemon’s hands he held a weapon known as a Kama, traditionally used by Asian farmers as a sickle to harvest rice.

The Kama in its left hand was covered in bright red blood. For a second the daemon looked around in confusion at the change in scenery. This was all the opening the knight needed. Because most of its weight was on her shoulders she pulled her feet up under her and, twisting her head to one side rolling up and over one shoulder trying to catch her attacker’s legs with her own as she moved. The Daemon snapped his wings once and soared up a good ten feet before he landed and spun around to face the knight. She’d surged to her feet and had drawn a curved long sword which she held in her right hand while her left arm hung uselessly at her side.

“Dar-usk’kin, I should have known! Attacking from above and behind is your signature move. But since when do you answer to X’lye’ous?”

As she spoke the knight circled to her right shadows flickering over her wounded neck and arm. The daemon stood up to his full height and Caecus Cordi, Knight of Order, realized that he was now over twelve feet tall.

“You are mistaken Knight, I don’t serve X’lye’ous, he serves me! I know what you’re trying to do! You think to buy time to heal your wound. I was ready for you! You’ll find a poison in your body that your power won’t heal. Your vessel is already dead!”

“Perhaps, but I’ll take you with me!”

At that the knight lunged forward and Dar-usk’kin, Daemon of Chaos, tried to take to the air, but the shadows at his taloned feet wrapped around his legs holding him to the ground. In shock he failed to block and the knight’s blade as she drove it into his ribs. He swung his right hand Kama in response, but the knight had already pulled her sword out and danced back out of range. Dar-usk’kin’s scream of pain shook the trees around the clearing.

“You’ll pay for that! I’ll take your mark and place it on my throne in Chaos and your unending agony will be an example to all who oppose me!”

By this time the shadows holding his feet and worked up to his waist and the Daemon sliced at them with his blades. With each slice the shadows dissipated slightly. Once free Dar-usk’kin looked around for the knight and growled in anger when he failed to spot her.

Then out of a shadow to his right a blade sliced down taking his right hand off at the wrist. As the hand flew clear bright green mist burst from both the arm and the severed hand.

“NNnnooooo?!!”

The green mist quickly spread until it covered Dar-usk’kin from head to toe. When it dissipated it revealed the unmoving body of a man in a business suit. Blood pumped from his severed arm indicating that he was alive but unconscious. The knight thrust her sword point first into the ground and stepped forward, carefully picking up the severed hand. With some difficulty, since she was only able to use one arm, the knight pulled a ring from the first finger and tossed the hand away.

The ring was made of white gold and showed a stylized birds head with its mouth open mid-screech. Where the bird’s eye should have been was a small emerald that still flickered with power. The knight dropped the ring into a pouch at her side and tossed the severed hand away with a grimace.

She reached up with her right hand and felt her injured left shoulder and knew the poison moving in her veins would resist her attempts to heal herself. For a second she thought about leaving the injured mortal, but then she reached down and gripped his wounded arm and shadows flowed down covering the injury for a moment and when they disappeared the bleeding had stopped and both the stump and wound in his side were covered in new flesh.

The knight went to where she’d left her sword and pulled it from the ground and, after wiping it clean, sheathed it. Suddenly she looked to one side and cursed.

A ball of red flame the size of a fist appeared and rapidly started to grow. Not waiting for X’lye’ous to appear she stepped into a shadow and vanished.

The sun had just set when Caecus Cordi stepped out of the shadow cast by a warehouse in Los Angles. If X’lye’ous was tracking her she needed to keep moving. Then she felt blood drip from her left hand to the ground and knew she very little time. He brothers and sisters of Order would offer sanctuary if she could reach them. Normally meetings were set up in advanced and locations were never used twice. She took a moment and focused, the shadows shifted and moved and then took the shape of a Raven. The bird leapt onto her outstretched arm.

“Find my brother Tenebris Lux and tell him I need his help!”

The raven cawed once and soared into the sky vanishing quickly from sight. I need to throw them off my trail, she thought, knowing that if she stayed in her true form her power would blaze out like a beacon to any Daemon or knight in the area. Stealth was her best ally now. The knight placed her hand on her injured shoulder and the shadows again surged forward covering her and when they vanished she stood once more in her human form her left arm drenched with blood.

“We must find you a new vessel.” The voice that spoke came from the woman’s mouth yet its tone and inflection were slightly different and she had a distinct British accent.

“I can’t leave you, Beth! If I do, you’ll die.”

“If you stay in me, we’ll both die. Cordi how many bodies have you worn over the years? Your mission is more important than my life.”

The woman, who’d apparently been having a conversation with herself, moved toward the dark shadows cast by the warehouse wall and disappeared.

The wind in Chicago was cold in early March and Beth shivered. Cordi’s power was fading and as it did she felt exhausted. She also knew that the poison was causing her to run a fever. She had enough power for one more shadow-step and hoped that her trail had been obscured enough to slow down the hunters. This was her fourth step since the warehouse in L.A. The memories Cordi had shared of X’lye’ous were enough to convince Beth that it was only a matter of time before he caught up to her. Beth focused on the knot of power inside of her and glanced at her hand as her palm burned with energy, the Mark suddenly visible. It was a sigil made of dark lines swirling in a twisting pattern that vaguely resembled a Celtic knot.

“Find my replacement; one brave enough to continue the fight! Find my successor; one strong enough to bear the burden! Find my heir; one noble enough not to be corrupted by power!” Then in a whisper with tears running down her cheeks she finished her commands, “Find someone able to love, invoke!”

The sigil on Beth’s palm spun and the shadows around Beth leapt forward and then the place where she’d been was empty. Save only for the pool of blood drying on the ground.

I walked to the corner careful to look both ways. It was after ten p.m. and it was a brisk March evening in Norfolk, Virginia. I was tired in a good way, I thought, as I jogged across the street. Tonight’s class had been fun, if a lot of work. My Sensei was demanding and he’d been pushing me lately. I’ve been practicing Aikido since I was ten and now, at seventeen, he was getting me ready for my black belt test scheduled for this summer after I turned eighteen. Some martial arts allow kids to earn a junior black belt, at my dojo Sensei just made you wait, so I’d been a first kyu for the last three years. In addition to practicing Aikido I was on the high school wrestling team and two hours of wrestling practice followed by dinner and then two hours of Aikido left me physically exhausted. I’d be sleeping well tonight. My schedule also dampened my social life, as my girlfriend Marci liked to remind me, I thought with a slight grimace.

The walk home was only about three quarters of a mile, although if I took a shortcut up the alley by the Stop-N-Shop, I could cut the distance in half. I moved through the parking lot and ducked down the alley beside the store. As I got to the end I saw that the gate in the chain-link fence was closed. I’d expected this and tossed my backpack over it. On the other side of the fence was a small field I’d have to cut across to get to my street. Abruptly, I felt a gust of cold wind from the alley behind me.

“Help, me.”

I turned around at the sound of the woman’s voice. I squinted into the darkness and made out the pale face of a woman sitting on the ground with her back against the wall of the store.

“Ma’am, are you okay?” I moved forward puzzled since I’d just walked right by her and had missed her.

“You aren’t what I was expecting.” Her voice was little more than a whisper and her accent made it hard for me to understand her.

“Are you hurt? I can go into the store and get some help.”

“Come closer let me see you.”

I was more curious than worried. I can take care of myself, and besides the woman didn’t appear to be in any condition to hurt anyone. I moved closer and then dropped to one knee next to her and saw that her shoulder was covered in a dark liquid. She glanced down at the palm of her right hand and then up at me.

“You’re the one! I wish there was time for me to explain, but I need your help.”

“Is that blood? Holy shit, we need to get you to a hospital!”

She reached out with her good hand and clasped mine. I don’t know why, but the intense look in her brown eyes made me swallow, I couldn’t look away.

“I have a question you need to answer as honestly as you can. If you had the chance to save dozens, maybe hundreds, of lives though it cost you your future, would you?”

“I don’t know. What kind of question is that?”

She gripped my hand tightly and I felt some sort of power surge into me forcing me to focus on her eyes.

“Given the chance, would you save life, even if you must take life, even at the cost of your own, would you?!”

For a moment it seemed like the world stood still then I whispered. “Yes, I think so, but how can anyone be sure?”

This seemed to satisfy her because she relaxed back into the wall for a second and looked up at me and grimaced in pain. Then she motioned for me to lean in closer.

The words were so softly spoken I almost didn’t hear them. “I was marked on my hand for the work that needed doing. I choose to mark your brow for the leadership that is needed.”

With that she reached up and before I could stop her, placed her hand on my forehead. Then the world seemed to explode around me. Everything went white and then black this lasted for an eternal-instant and then it was like I was looking at the world through a black and white TV. Fire burned in every vein as a white hot flame seared by forehead. I would have thrown back my head and screamed, but I couldn’t move. A wind seemed to blow from this strange woman into me and my whole body tingled and twitched as the fire turned to a cold that burned just as fiercely. Then it was done and I fell over backward, away from her, to sit on the hard cold ground. My forehead burned where she’d touched it and I couldn’t help the spasms that caused my body to convulse.

As the twitching died away I felt myself blink and then I watched as I lifted a hand and looked at it. It was like I was a passenger in my own body. I stood up and moved to the woman’s side.

“Goodbye, Beth, sleep deeply and well. Your work is done.”

The voice that came out of my mouth was a woman’s voice and if I’d been able to I’d have shouted and looked around. I then watched as my hand reached down and closed this strange woman’s eyes. I abruptly realized that she was dead! I now felt tears running down my cheeks. For a minute I knelt next to her, quiet and unmoving, head bowed, with one hand resting over this woman’s eyes then I pulled my hand away. I watched, unable to control my hand, as I reached down into the pocket of her blazer and pulled out a small bag, covered in strange symbols, and stuffed it into my front jeans pocket.

Then I stood and jogged to the fence. It was only four feet high so I put one hand on it and vaulted over it, just like I normally do, and picked up my backpack and trotted into the field. By the time I gotten to the far end I realized that I was again in control of my body. For a second I thought about turning around and going back to the Stop-N-Shop, but something inside me made me think that would be a bad idea. Instead, I headed for home trying not to think about what had just happened.

I opened my eyes groggily and slapped at the alarm as it buzzed next to my bed. Every bone in my body ached as I rolled over and up into a sitting position. There was enough light streaming in through my curtains for me to stumble to my door. I opened it and could smell the coffee that my dad had already started down in the kitchen. I love the smell of coffee, although I don’t understand how anyone can drink the bitter stuff. I walked across the hallway and was happy to see that the bathroom door was open. If I’d hit snooze a couple of times then my sister would’ve beaten me into the bathroom. She’s only a year younger than me and already took twice as long to get ready. I turned on the light, shut the door, and started brushing my teeth and was a little surprised at how pale my face was this morning. My sandy brown hair was cut short and my naturally tanned face seemed pale. For a second I stared at my forehead suddenly remembering my trip home last night. There was no sign of a mark on my forehead. I must have imagined the whole thing, I tried to rationalize.

I finished brushing and rubbed my chin with one hand. Lately, I’d had to start shaving every morning so today I was pleasantly surprised to find a smooth chin. I started the shower and stepped on the scale. 135 lbs. not to bad I thought since I was wrestling at 132 this year so I only had to cut three pounds before Saturday’s weigh-in. At six foot cutting weight to get under 140 lbs. was normally hard for me so only having to cut three pounds over the next two days was great news. I’d been expecting to have to cut five or six.

By now the shower was warm so I climbed in and started cleaning up. As I did I thought about last night. I must have imagined the whole thing, a woman dying in an alley, my forehead burning yet no mark or scar, and then that weird feeling of not being in control of my body. I mean once I got to my street everything felt normal I got home and found my mom and dad watching TV and my sister sitting at the dining room table working on her calculus home work.

She’d asked for help and after I put my gi in the washer I sat down next to her with a large glass of water. My sister and I often teased each other but we’re actually very close. We had to be since my dad was in the Navy and we’d moved every two years for as long as I could remember. I’d been in 7 schools and was now getting ready to graduate. Christina and I had been through so much together and it had forced us to become close. I’d had calculus last year and AP Calc this year, so helping her wasn’t a problem. Except that I found myself unable to focus and after drifting off for the second time she’d suggested I go to bed.

I finished up and dried off quickly knowing that Christina would want to get in soon. I wrapped a towel around my waist and opened the door just in time to find Christina lifting her hand to knock. My sister Christina is very pretty with long blonde hair and a skin tone several shades lighter than mine. She was also six inches shorter than me and already had plenty of curves for a sixteen year old.

“Are you done?”

“It’s all yours.”

I turned sideways to slide around her and darted into my room. My room drives my mom and dad crazy since there are clothes scattered all over the floor along with plates and cups from snacks. I’ve tried to explain that everything is exactly where I can find it. That doesn’t stop them from forcing me to clean it every Sunday. By now, Thursday morning, it looked like a tornado had spun its way around my room.

I found a rumpled pair of jeans from the floor and a t-shirt from a basket of clean laundry I was supposed to put away two days ago, socks, cross trainers and I was ready to face school. Abruptly, I froze in shock. There was a lump in my jeans pocket. I reached in and pulled out a small black bag with symbols stitched into it with silver thread.

My legs suddenly felt weak and I sat down on the bed. This was the bag I’d watched myself take from the woman in the alley. Reluctantly, I worked at the knot holding the bag closed until the string came loose and I was able to empty the contents of the bag into my hand. The only thing in the bag was a simple yet beautiful ring made of either silver or white gold with a birds head caught mid-screech and an emerald for an eye. As I held the ring I felt a tingling sensation from it and then it was burning my fingers.

“Shit!”

I dropped the ring and moved away looking at my fingers. I had a pair of blisters from where I’d been holding it. How is that possible, I wondered? The ring hadn’t been hot, was I allergic to whatever it was made of? I grabbed a dirty sock and picked up the ring and put it back into the black bag pulled the strings tight and put the bag on my bedside stand. I sat there looking at the evidence that I hadn’t hallucinated last night’s events for a few minutes. What should I do? Who would believe me if I told them? At last decided I needed to go to school. Tonight I’d talk to my parents about what had happened.

I pulled out my backpack and stuffed in clean clothes for wrestling practice this afternoon and then almost as an afterthought books and homework. I rushed down the stairs taking them three at a time and plunked my bag down next to the kitchen table. My mom turned around and smiled at me.

“In a hurry this morning Joel?”

“I’m just starving.” I picked up the cereal box and dumped a bunch of Cheerios into my bowel.

“Aren’t you cutting weight?”

“I’ve only got to lose three pounds by Saturday. I can do that in a day.” I mumbled around a large spoonful of cereal.

“Your sister has ballet after school and will need the car. Can you get a ride home from practice tonight?”

“Sure, Jeff can drop me off.”

By the time I was done eating Christina walked into the kitchen. She was wearing Capri’s and a light blue blouse and looked really pretty, although I’d never tell her that.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yep,” she said, picking up an apple from the fruit dish on the table.

“Christina, you need more than that!”

“Mom, I don’t have time, see ya.”

I went to the cubby where we kept the car keys and saw that the keys to the Cavalier were missing.

“Looking for these?” Christina held up the car keys.

“Hey, it’s my turn to drive to school! Where did you get those?”

“From your desk, you drove the car home from wrestling practice yesterday and as usual never hung them up.”

“You went into my room without my permission?”

“Obviously, if I hadn’t we’d be spending the next ten minutes looking for the keys.” Christina handed them to me. “Come on its time to go, or we’ll be late.”

On the one hand I was annoyed at the idea that she was going into my room, on the other hand she was right. I’m always losing things. I decided to shut up and followed Christina to the garage. The used Chevy Cavalier wasn’t the coolest car but Dad had bought it for Christina and me to share so I couldn’t complain. The drive to school took ten minutes and since Christina had put on the head phones to her IPod the second she’d jumped into the passenger seat it was filled with silence. After I parked we got out of the car and I tossed her the keys which she promptly dropped.

“Hey, can’t you hand them to me like a normal person?!”

“Learn to catch,” I said with a laugh and jogged up the steps toward school.

I stood in the locker room with a towel wrapped around my waist looking into the mirror. Practice was over and guys were showering up but I was preoccupied. School had been pretty normal. Although, as I thought back a few things had seemed odd. I’d been easily distracted all day, a new color would catch my eye, a vibrant shade of red, or I’d hear a noise and become mesmerized trying to figure it out. Only to discover that it was a fly banging against a window at the far end of the classroom. Then there was wrestling practice.

This had easily been the best practice of my life. I’m a decent wrestler, I’d earned a starting varsity spot as a senior but there was a junior, Brian, who was constantly pushing me. Today I’d been so full of energy that I’d raced through the exercises and drills and when wrestling with Brian he’d suddenly seemed slow and weak and I’d pinned him several times without any trouble. The Coach had been so pleased he’d matched me against several of our best wrestlers in heavier weight classes. I’d beaten them as easily as I’d beaten Brian. After practice coach had pulled me aside and said that I was peaking at the right time and if I won my weight class in the tournament on Saturday I’d have enough points to make state! This meant that our team had a shot at winning a state championship. If we did everyone would remember the team of 1998!

“Joel, stop admiring yourself and let’s get going!” Jeff shouted pulling a t-shirt over his head.

I hustled to my locker and changed into my street clothes.

Jeff had an old Chevy S-10 pickup truck which even though it was older than the Cavalier, I thought, it was cooler or at least manlier. As Jeff pulled out of the school parking lot I spotted a black Suburban parked across the street. The guy sitting in it caught my eye for a second and I felt a chill wash down my back before Jeff turned the truck away. I looked over my shoulder at the SUV which was still parked and I wondered why I was being so jumpy.

The trip to my house was filled with Jeff talking about the upcoming NCAA basketball tournament. Even though he was a wrestler Jeff loved watching basketball. I wasn’t really into the sport so I mostly listened as he talked about who he thought would make it into the tournament. Just before we arrived at my house I felt the hair on my neck stand up again and looked over my shoulder, behind us was a black sedan and there was something about either the car or the man driving it that made me shudder. Then Jeff pulled into my driveway and the sedan continued on. I let out a breath that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

“Hey, Joel, I don’t know what you’ve been doing to improve so much, but do you think you could give me some pointers?”

It took me a second to realize that Jeff was talking to me.

“Uhm, . . .yeah, sure.” I grabbed my bag from the floor and slid out the passenger door. “Why don’t we work out at the dojo this Sunday?” Jeff nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

Christina had returned just in time for me to snag the car keys and head over to the dojo for practice. I normally walk, but when my mother had come home from work she’d told me that there’d been a murder down by the Stop-N-Shop and she didn’t want me walking tonight. When she’d explained that they’d found a woman’s body in the alley next to the store with some kind of knife wound in her shoulder I’d felt a chill run over my body. It just wasn’t possible, was it? I knew that I should tell her that I’d been there and explain what had happened. I opened my mouth and for some reason nothing came out. I tried to clear my throat and start over and again I found I couldn’t speak. ‘What the hell is going on?’ I wondered.

Aikido had been a great balm for my troubled mind. I’d driven to the dojo and practice had been exhausting and that had allowed me to postpone thinking about the dead mystery woman or trying to figure out why I’d been unable to talk to my mom about what had happened. Once I got home I got cleaned up and went down stairs planning to talk to my parents about it.

I stopped in the doorway to the living room and saw my parents sitting on the sofa watching TV and hesitated. What should I tell them? I thought I’d met the dead woman from the Stop-N-Shop, and that she’d marked me? There was no sign of a mark and dad would want to know why I hadn’t tried to help her or at least called 911.

Telling them that something or someone had had taken control of my body and forced me away from the woman would make me sound crazy. A wave of exhaustion hit me and I had to reach out and grab the wall for support. For several seconds I focused on breathing and then slowly made my way to my room. I was so tired it was hard to focus. I swatted at the light switch, turning off the lights on my second try, and then I collapsed fully clothed, face first, onto the bed.

My dreams were fitful and strange. I dreamt of a woman’s face half covered in blood screaming in defiance, then it changed and I saw a clear field where a female warrior in form-fitting plate armor battled a monster with black wings, then it shifted again and again. In each scene the beautiful brunette woman battled one monster after another, sometimes in armor of both familiar and exotic designs and at other times she was clothed in leather and once she simply wore shadows. Then there were the shadows! In every scene, they seemed alive and they responded to her commands becoming weapons that she used with great skill or armor that she used to protect herself.

Sometimes she fought on the streets of strange cities and at other times battled the endless horde of monsters in forests or mountains. Most of the time the brunette fought alone but once in a while she was joined by other warriors who grappled with the bewildering variety of foes. In every dream there was one thing that was constant; the beautiful brunette always protected the defenseless and fought against a horde of chaotic looking creatures.

Then the dream shifted and I was standing alone in the middle of a plateau filled with columns of stone. The stones were made of either black or white marble and alternated with each column. There appeared to be a path between the column’s that wound around to my right and something told me that I should follow the path. As I walked I noticed that there wasn’t really a source of illumination and that each column cast a shadow. I felt oddly content here like this was a safe place unlike the previous dreams. Then I stopped.

I suddenly realized that I was being watched.

“Who are you?” I shouted turning around in a circle. I was greeted by silence. “Come out and let me see you!”

Something told me I needed to continue to the center of the maze of columns if I wanted an answer to my question. So after waiting for a few seconds I turned and continued following the arcing path. As I walked deeper into the maze I lost track of time. It felt like I’d been walking for a long time although in a dream it’s hard to be sure. As I walked I noticed the columns were getting taller. They’d started out just taller than me and now they towered far above my head. Then all at once I found myself in the center of the maze.

I assumed it was the center of the maze because I’d found a large open circular area. In the middle of the open space there were a pair of columns one white and one black about five feet apart at the base. About ten feet up they leaned in toward each other and by the time they’d reached twenty feet they’d begun to twist together spinning around each other forming a single pillar. They continued to climb until I lost sight of the column in the featureless grey sky. Then my eyes were drawn to the shadow at the foot of the twined columns and the stone chair hidden within the shadow.

I moved closer and by the time I was halfway to the throne concealed in shadow I saw that there was someone sitting on it. I froze when I realized that it was a woman.

“Joel Ryan Campbell, I’ve been waiting for you.” The woman said in a powerful female voice that sent shivers up and down my spine.

For several long seconds I didn’t know what to say. Then I blurted out, “Who are you?!”

“I’ve had many names over the years, here, now, in this time and place, I’m known as Caecus Cordi, but Beth used to call me Cordi.”

“You’re the woman from the alley behind the Stop-N-Shop!” For a second the shadows around the woman moved and flickered like they had a life of their own.

“Yes, and no. The woman you saw was Beth, she was my vessel.”

“Your vessel? I don’t understand who, . . . no . . . what are you?”

“I’m a Knight of Order. There aren’t very many of us here in your realm, although I suspect that is about to change. This realm is becoming a new front in the war between Order and Chaos. The Daemon Lords of Chaos have begun a fresh campaign and this realm will soon become a front line, maybe even THE front line, unless we can turn them back now.”

I looked at her and then around the calm still plateau before I glanced back at her. It struck me that it was very peaceful here and that everything was either black, white, or a shade of grey there was no color. Then it also occurred to me that there were thousands and thousands of shadows cast by the pillars under the dim grey light.

“This is obviously a matter of magic, have you talked to the Guild, or if there is trouble, the police?”

“Your human Guild of Magic-Users is unprepared for what’s coming. And it’s my duty to prevent the Daemon Lords form arriving here in force in the first place.”

“If that’s true then why are you talking to me? I don’t understand.”

“Do you know what happened yesterday when Beth passed my mark on to you?”

“No, what mark? I looked in the mirror this morning and there wasn’t a mark!”

“That’s because we are still going through the Joining. Once we are fully merged you will be able to draw upon my power at will and when you do the mark will become a visible warning, anyone who sees it will know that you are a Knight of Order.”

“What do you mean, joining?” I said, and then added, “And what power?”

“Neither the Knights of Order nor the Daemons of Chaos can manifest a physical form in this realm. We need a human body, a vessel, for our spirits and power. When Beth passed on my Mark she passed on both my spirit and power to you. You, Joel Campbell, are now my vessel.”

At this the woman stood up and moved out of the deep shadow into the dim grey light. She was tall over twice my height and I had to admit stunningly beautiful.

“I can’t be your vessel!”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not a Magic-User,” I said, grasping at straws. “I’m barely able to sense magic and I don’t have enough strength to cast a spell.”

“What makes you think that I need a Magic-User as my vessel? In fact, you’re the first vessel I’ve had who has the ability to sense magic. No, Beth used my power to craft the search and call the standard, and you answered the call. You are my vessel.”

“What does that even mean?!” Just then the dream faded and the annoying sound of my alarm pulled me from my dream.

I clawed my way to consciousness and slapped at my alarm. Unfortunately, I misjudged my strength and accidently sent the alarm clock flying into the wall.

“Ugh, . . .” I groaned as I sat up.

I rubbed my eyes and felt the gritty residue of really heavy sleep. ‘That was a crazy dream,’ I thought. It had felt so real, but it couldn’t have been! I mean come on, a Knight of Order? I’m fairly caught up on current events and if there was some kind of Order-Chaos War being fought here in the United States then the Guild would have announced it. At a minimum one of the cable news networks would have been talking about it. I sat still trying to think. I’d never had a dream where I’d actually talked to someone before and it had been unbelievably clear. Then I had an urge to find the bag I’d pulled out of my jeans pocket yesterday. I went to my nightstand and not seeing it I started looking around. I spent several minutes searching for it and at last I spotted it on the floor partially hidden under my well-worn paperback copy of Michael Moorcock’s “Pawn of Chaos: Tales of the Eternal Champion.” I picked up the bag and was surprised to find it empty. I glanced at the clock and realized I needed to get moving I could look for the ring once I got home from school. I looked down at the rumpled clothes I’d slept in and decided a shower was in order. I crossed to the bathroom only to discover that Christina was already inside.

“Damn!” Okay plan “B” breakfast and then a shower. I went down to the kitchen and finding it empty sat down and started eating.

“Joel Ryan Campbell, did you sleep in your clothes?!”

I looked over my shoulder to see my mother standing in the doorway glaring at me. “Uhmmm, . . . yeah, I guess so. I was just so tired that I forgot to take them off last night.”

“Well you’re not going to go to school looking like that. When you finish eating you’re going to go upstairs and change.”

I looked at her for a second and rather than tell her that I had no intention of going to school in these clothes I decided to just nod. “Yes, ma’am.” I finished eating went back upstairs just as Christina was leaving the bathroom.

“All yours, Joel,” she said, with a laugh.

I had no idea what she did in there in the morning since she showered the night before, I just figured it was one of those female mysteries I was better off not knowing.

I closed the bathroom door and looked into the mirror. I was startled to see that my hair was several shades darker than yesterday and much longer. If it kept growing at this rate I’d need a haircut by the weekend. Then I leaned in to look closer and saw that for the second day in a row I didn’t need to shave and my skin was paler. In fact I now had almost the same complexion as Christina.

“Weird.” I got the shower going and while I waited for it to heat up dumped my clothes into the corner and stepped on the scale.

“Holy crap!”

I was down to 130 lbs and I hadn’t been trying to cut weight at all. In fact I’d just eaten two bowls of cereal, toast, and a banana. What the heck is going on with my metabolism, I wondered. The shower was now warm so I stepped in and started lathering up. After a few minutes of scrubbing I looked down and was surprised by all of the hair in the floor of the stall. I glanced down and saw that all of the hair on my arms and been scrubbed clean. I looked at my legs and realized that they were as smooth as a new born babe!

“What the fuck is going on!?”

I again looked at my arms and saw a small spot on my left forearm with a strip of hair. Carefully I ran my hand over the area only to watch, in dismay, as all of the hair fell out as I brushed it. I turned off the water and got out drying off as quickly as possible. The mirror was covered in condensation. I wiped it clean looked over as much of my body as I could. My skin was now very pale and I had hair on my head and around my crotch but I had no hair on my arms, legs, or armpits. In addition my chest felt a little sore and my nipples were sensitive and looked a little puffy, which was strange.

I wrapped a towel around my waist scooped up my dirty clothes and dashed across the hallway to my room. I realized I was running late and hurriedly got dressed and raced down to the kitchen where Christina was waiting impatiently for me.

“Aren’t you ready yet, princess?” She teased, “God, I thought girls were supposed to take their time getting ready.”

“Bite me.” I went to get the keys only to discover that Christina already had them.

“It’s my turn to drive today, remember?”

“Fine.” With that we headed out to school.

If anything I was even more distracted today than yesterday. It wasn’t just hearing things or becoming fascinated by sights and colors. All day I felt like there was someone looking over my shoulder and whenever I turned around it seemed like I should’ve been able to see my mysterious companion. But there was never anyone there. Then at lunch Cindy Markland, easily the hottest girl in the senior class, had all but asked me out and I’d been so distracted I’d missed it. When she left Jeff hit me on my arm.

“Dude, are you just brain dead today or what?”

“Huh, what are you talking about?”

“You’ve wanted to go out with Cindy since 9^th grade and she comes over and talks to you and you just grunt either yes or no? What the hell is wrong with you man?”

“I don’t know! I’ve just felt out of it today, besides I’m dating Marci.”

Jeff just shook his head and picked up his tray. “Well I hope you’re ready for practice after school or Coach will have your ass!”

I got to the locker room late. I’d had to find Christina and let her know that she could take the car since Jeff was giving me a ride home, again. Coach had made me do laps for being late which was fine since I felt like I had energy to burn. Once practice really got going I just sort of fell into a zone. Everything once again felt so slow and easy. Like everyone else was moving in slow motion and the exercises where easier than ever. I raced up the peg board setting a new record for getting to the top and down again. Rope climbs had been cake and then during one-on-one drills it felt like I was toying with my partner. At the end of practice coach had weighed us and I was down to 125 lbs.

“Joel, son, you need to stop cutting, you could wrestle down another class. But I need you at 132, understood?”

“Yes, sir.” I replied, feeling confused. I hadn’t been trying to cut weight.

The drive home had been filled with Jeff playing heavy metal in celebration of the weekend and getting ready for tomorrow’s tournament. As we got closer to my house I noticed that we’d been passed by a cop car and then a fire-truck. When Jeff pulled onto my street I could see smoke rising and the street was blocked off.

“Hey, just drop me off here. I’ll walk the rest of the way.”

“Are you sure? It looks like there’s been a fire.”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

I grabbed my backpack and as soon as Jeff pulled over I jumped out. I waved good-bye and started walking toward my house. As I did, I once again felt a stirring behind me like someone was looking over my shoulder. I turned around in a full circle looking for whoever it was and didn’t see anyone.

As I got closer to my house I saw more emergency vehicles and then I realized they weren’t just near my house. They were at my house! I broke into a run and only made it two steps before a voice spoke.

“Joel, beware! I sense the power of a Daemon. Slow down and let’s look around.”

I stopped and looked around and again saw no one.

“Cordi is that you?” I whispered, trying to remember the name of the woman from my dream.

“Yes, and whatever is going on up ahead was caused by a Daemon! You need to be very careful. The daemon won’t be able to sense me in you yet because we’re still joining. But we are very vulnerable right now. Don’t rush in and don’t do anything out of the ordinary and if I tell you to do something just do it, okay!?”

“No, it’s not okay. I’m talking to an imaginary friend and my house is on fire! I need to know if my family is okay.”

“Keep your voice down! No one else can hear me. We don’t want people to see you talking to yourself. When I’m joining a new vessel I’m almost totally undetectable. There was no connection between you and Beth so my enemies shouldn’t have been able to find you or your family, but if they have, then, . . . . yes . . . your family is in danger.”

“Okay, I’ll take it slow, but after this we need to talk. I didn’t ask to be your, . . . vessel?! And my family better be okay.”

I moved forward at a brisk walk and in a few seconds, was able to confirm that my house was the source of all the attention. Two fire trucks were spraying water onto the house in an attempt to keep it from spreading to the other houses in the neighborhood.

I stood there, watching the fire, my mind to stunned to understand or to really think about what I should do. Then noticed a fireman, sitting in a sedan with fire department markings, talking on the radio. As I approached him I felt Cordi stir inside of me.

“Joel, be careful, don’t tell him who you are. Say that your name is Jeff and you’re friend Joel lives here.”

I knew the voice was in my head but it was hard not to twitch and turn to look for the woman speaking.

“Excuse me, sir.” I said, trying to get the fireman’s attention.

“What is it son? This is an active fire scene you need to get back.”

“Sir, my friend Joel Campbell lives there,” I said, pointing at my house. “Do you know if he’s okay?”

“It’s too early to know if anyone was in the house. Do you know if Joel or his parents have a cell phone?”

“Sure,” I said, and gave him my mother’s cell phone number.

“Thanks, kid, what did you say your name was?”

“Jeff, . . . Jeff White” I lied.

“Okay, why don’t you head on home Jeff. I appreciate the help.”

After I’d walked up the block I turned on the first side street moving away from my house. “What the hell is going on?” I fought to stay calm.

“I felt the power of a daemon. In fact I know which daemon it was. I just don’t understand how he found us.”

“A daemon? H-How? . . . Where is my family? What’s going on?”

“Look, Joel, I’ll answer all of your questions, but not here on the street. I’ve got a safe house nearby, let’s go there and talk.”

“How will we get there? I don’t have a car, unless you’re saying it’s within walking distance.”

“Give me control of our body for a minute and I’ll see what can be done.”

“Assuming I was good with that, how would I do it?”

“Just relax, easy back, and think of letting someone else steer.”

I felt apprehensive, yet somehow I felt like I could trust Cordi, so I let out a breath and closed my eyes and tried to relax. After a moment my eyes opened even though I hadn’t opened them. I started to panic but Cordi was there.

“It’s okay Joel, I’ve got it, I won’t hurt you just please try to stay calm.”

I fought down my panic and after a moment I felt my head look left then right. Then I started jogging down the street. There was a van parked at the curb that had caught Cordi’s attention. It was an older van with plenty of rust spots and it was also sitting under the branches of a large oak tree. The tree cast a long shadow over the van and Cordi moved us up next to it. She reached out and placed one of my fingers on the driver’s side window and focused on the plainly visible knob locking the door. For a second the light seemed to distort and a shadow inside the van curled around the knob and then there was a clicking sound as the knob moved up and the door unlocked.

“Wow, that was cool!” I thought, at Cordi.

“Thanks, but be still, I’m trying to focus. This is extremely hard right now since we are not properly merged. There’s also a slight risk of discovery when I use my power, so we need to be quick.”

I had the strange sensation of feeling my mouth move without me controlling it and the even stranger sensation of hearing a woman’s voice. With that Cordi slid us into the driver’s seat and shut the door. She then reached down and cupped the ignition with my hand and I again felt a sort of trickle of energy then my hand turned and the van started up. When Cordi pulled my hand away, for a second, there appeared to be a kind of shadow key in the ignition, but now that the van was running it dissolved.

“Joel, you’ll need to drive. I’m not strong enough to stay in control.”

“Where am I driving?”

“I’ll give you directions.”

Suddenly, I was once again in control of my body. I pulled the van out and headed away from my house trying not to think about my parents and my sister. A little over an hour later I was pulling into the driveway of a secluded farm house, about twenty minutes from Richmond, VA.

“This isn’t Norfolk you know.”

“You’re right, I don’t have a safe house in Norfolk, I like my privacy and this is the closest safe house I have.”

“I’m not complaining but I’ve got a thousand questions and you haven’t been real talkative.”

“I’ve been trying to figure out what happened. Come on let’s go inside and get some food and then I’ll answer as many of your questions as I can.”

I parked the van behind the farm house so it couldn’t be seen from the road and then at Cordi’s direction found a spare key hidden in the barn. As I approached the house Cordi made me stop.

“Joel, I need to take control again for a few seconds.”

“Why?” I asked looking around for possible threats.

“Because the house is warded, I paid a guild Magic-User to ward the house so I’ll need to part the ward. I just need control for a few seconds.”

I closed my eyes and tried to relax. This time I felt it as Cordi took control. Once again my eyes opened without me doing it and I watched as my right hand rose and my fingers twisted into a strange looking gesture. Then Cordi spoke;

“Kaló̱s í̱rthate sto spíti filo”

Even though I expected it, it was still weird to feel my mouth moving without me controlling it and the sound of a woman’s voice coming out of my mouth speaking words I didn’t understand. I also noticed a tingling sensation and my limited ability to sense magic told something had happened.

“The wards are down and will stay down for about five minutes. We need to get inside.”

I suddenly realized that I was back in control so I walked up to the back door of the house and used the key to open the door. Once inside I could tell it had been a long time since anyone had been here. Most of the furniture was covered and there was a layer of dust on everything. Cordi directed me to the kitchen and the pantry, which was stocked with canned goods, and I got to work heating up a can of chicken soup.

“Okay, you said you explain all of this too me, now feels like a pretty good time.”

“There’s a war going on between the Courts of Order and the Wastes of Chaos, it’s known as the ‘Eternal War’ and has been going on since the beginning of time. In fact, the Chaos spawn will argue that it was the Court of Order’s imposition of time upon the Multi-Verse that sparked the first battle. Over the last thousand years the two sides of settled into a balance. It’s when the balance is disrupted that life throughout the multiverse is threatened.”

“Uhmmm . . . who or what are you? Why did . . . uh . . . Beth ‘Mark’ me?”

“My name is Caecus Cordi, I’m the Court of Order’s Knight of Shadows. I was sent here to this realm by the Grand Duchess DePotentia Et’Honestas when she learned that the Daemon Lords where going to begin invading. We aren’t yet sure why they chose this realm but I’ve been ordered to stop them and protect the natives.”

“Why are you in my head? And couldn’t you have contacted the Guild they protect mundane humans, like me, from magical predators?”

“I’m more than just in your head Joel. When you accepted my Mark my spirit, mind, and power began to merge with you. I can’t manifest a physical body here and neither can a daemon.” At this Cordi paused for a moment and then continued. “The other knights, assigned to this realm, and I have discussed contacting the Guild but my brothers and sisters believe that at this point it might do more harm than good. For now we are trying to fight our war with the daemons without drawing too much attention.”

I had to pause for a few seconds and think about what she’d just said. I didn’t think that I’d ‘accepted’ her mark. True, I’d answered Beth’s questions and I could have moved away and left her there to die. Instead, I’d stayed where I was and allowed her to touch me.

“Uhm, okay, you can give me more of the big picture later. Where is my family? And are they okay? You said that you know which daemon was at my house.”

“I felt the echo of X’lye’ous power back at your house. He is a powerful Fire Daemon, I’m sure he is responsible for starting the fire.”

“Why!? Why would some daemon set my house on fire?”

“There are a few reasons. He might have been trying to capture your family, thinking that I was in your mother or sister, and accidently set the house on fire. He could have missed your family and set it on fire as a warning or did it to get me to respond, to draw me out before I’m ready to face him . . . or, he might have done it for fun, X’lye’ous likes to burn things.”

“How do I find my family? Can I call my mom or dad’s cell phones?”

“Not just now. For now we need to be patient. If you’re family is okay we’ll find them tomorrow, if they’ve been captured then we’ll have to figure out how to rescue them.”

“So what do we do tonight?”

“Tonight we start exercising. I’ll show you how to use my power. The more of my power you draw, the faster we’ll finish the joining. If your family has been captured then we’ll need to be as fully joined as possible to rescue them.”

“And I thought tonight would be easy since there isn’t any Aikido on Friday.” I said in a lame attempt to make a joke.

I soon found that my wrestling coach and Aikido Sensei had nothing on Cordi when it came to working. We started with yoga like positions and when I claimed I couldn’t stretch any further and my arms were trembling with fatigue she just said to relax and focus on the knot of energy inside of me. We were working in the dimly lit basement of the safe house and for some reason the shadowy environment felt comfortable. I focused on my center and to my surprise I felt something. Unsure exactly what to do I took a deep calming breath and focused on it. Then I felt a cool sensation from my center flow out and into my body, as this happened I noticed that the shadows in the room seemed to deepen, to take on a texture and a quality like each shadow was unique and held a mystery. Abruptly, my vision shifted and I realized I could see clearly into the shadows and that they had a tendency to reach out to me as if wanting to touch me.

“As I said earlier, in the Courts of Order, I’m the Knight of Shadow. I’m at my most powerful in the shade. I’m weakest, but not helpless, in full bright light or total darkness.”

By now we’d moved from stretching into a series of punching and kicking patterns. I caught on quickly, so she changed things and soon I was learning to summon and dismiss a shadow. Next, she taught me how to control my own shadow so that it flared out into a pair of shadow-claws extending from each hand. I could only hold them for a few seconds but it was an amazing feeling. Cordi, satisfied with how far I’d come in just a few hours had me sit down and meditate.

“Joel, the goal here is to relax and project yourself into the Shadow-Court.”

“What is the shadow court?”

“It’s the place where I met you in your dream. Once you learn to send your spirit there we can move on to more advanced lessons. I can also control the flow of time there, to a degree. We can spend a dozen hours training in the Court while no more than an hour goes by here.”

I sat down and closed my eyes thinking about the core of power inside of me. I then tried to bring up a picture, in my minds-eye, of the place where I’d first talked to Cordi.

“That’s very good Joel, now focus on letting the power flow through your body. Fill every part of your being with my energy from the tips of your fingers to your toes push the energy throughout your body.”

I concentrated on the cool knot of power and slowly started to feel it respond. Then abruptly it slipped away.

“You were focusing too tightly. Concentrate on bringing it up and feeling it, then slowly guide it. Don’t force it, or grip it too tightly, if you use brute force of will on it you’ll just lose control.”

I started over, this time focusing on feeling the power, accepting it, and then very gently I let it wash over me. It felt like there was a tide of liquid power rising and then I realized that it was flowing out from my center, to every limb, in time to the beating of my heart. Then my skin began to tingle as the trickle of power turned into a flood of icy-hot energy that was as bright as the sun, and as dark as the void all at once. The power now moved freely flowing out in every direction, filling my body! Abruptly, I felt my body respond to the power, my skin rippled and shifted, moving without my guidance, under the sweet dusky power raging inside of me, and yet, it felt so good that I didn’t care! I realized in that moment I could sit here forever holding this power and be happy.

‘Oh, my God, this could become very addictive.’ I thought, my mental voice felt distant and unimportant compared to the energy filling me.

I’m not sure how long I sat there, only that by the time I became aware of my physical self again I could feel sweat running down my face, back, and curiously between my pectoral muscles. Even as I sat still, sweating, I practically quivered with energy! Every part of my body tingled, and I wanted to explode into motion I felt so ALIVE!

“You’re ready, now focus on my court.” Cordi advised.

I thought about the grey twilight, the pillars of white and black marble, and the throne sitting in the shadow cast by the twined pillars and closed my eyes. I felt a ripple of movement yet I was sure I hadn’t moved.

“Welcome to my Court, among the Knights of Order this place is known as the Shadow-Court.”

I opened my eyes and sucked in a deep breath in shock. The court looked just like it had in my dream only now it felt more real. Every detail was sharper, clearer, and I could feel the stone under my feet. Then I caught the faint scent of the ocean. Even though my dream had been surprisingly life like, it was still a dream. Now, I somehow knew, that I was here in a different way than before.

“It’s the same, but it feels different than my dream.”

“That’s because when you came here in your dream, your spirit was only partly here. You just sent your spirit-self here using my power and your will. You are here as fully as you can be.”

I looked around for a minute and spotted Cordi sitting on her throne. She stood up and came towards me, easily more than twice my height.

“Uhm, . . . so . . .what do you want me to do?”

“We’ll continue your training. First I need to judge your fighting skills. When I first started working with Beth she had no training. I’ve looked at your memories and you’ve some experience in Tae Kwon Do, and a little Kendo. These skills combined with your Aikido and wrestling give you a good foundation in the fighting arts. After that I plan to teach you how to use shadows to create armor and weapons. That’s about as far as we’ll be able to go today.”

I nodded, “Okay”

“Attack me.”

“But you’re twice my size!”

“Size doesn’t matter to the Knight of Shadow, but if it will help.”

Suddenly she was my size facing me in a gray judo Gi.

“Better?”

I nodded, and gave her a bow and realized that I was now wearing a matching judo Gi. ‘Well I guess it’s appropriate.’ I thought, to myself.

“I agree” Cordi’s voice whispered into my mind.

“Can you hear all of my thoughts?”

“Yes and no, when you’re thinking about me I can generally hear them. There are ways to shield thoughts. I’ll teach them to you later, since some daemons will read thoughts in battle and use this power to anticipate an attack. Ready?”

I soon found that Cordi was a much better fighter than me. She knew every trick, technique, faint, and strike. I lost all track of time as the training continued. She soon had me reaching into a shadow and forging it into a weapon or a shield. Then I learned to step into a shadow and step out clothed in shadow-armor. Then the lessons began anew. Now we focused on fighting while wearing armor. At last I reached a point where I was too exhausted to continue.

“Joel, enough, you have done very well! I don’t think I’ve ever had a better partner. At least not this early in the joining.”

At this point I’d been trying to climb back to my feet from where she’d thrown me. Without having to ask I suddenly knew how to get back to my body. I reached up and brushed my long dark hair out of my eyes and dismissed my armor and felt a relief from its constriction. I was once more standing facing Cordi in a judo gi. She dismissed her armor as well and I could see that I’d at least forced her to work up a sweat. She was stunningly beautiful with her hair plastered to her head and her cheeks flushed from exertion.

“Food, and then sleep are what you need now.”

“What about my family? How will we find them? Are you sure the daemon’s have them?”

“I’ve been thinking about it while we trained. In the morning we’ll start by making a few phone calls. If the daemon’s are holding them they’ll answer one of the phones and then we’ll know. But what’s puzzling me is how they found us. They couldn’t have detected me. Do you remember a black bag with silver runes?”

“I found it the morning after I met you. Why?”

Cordi nodded looking intently at me.

“The bag is unimportant, but what was in it was very dangerous. If someone in your family found that bag and the token it held, then we could have a big problem. That bag imprisoned the token of a daemon called Dar-usk’kin. While inside the bag no other Chaos Daemon could have found Dar-usk’kin, but if the token were taken from the bag they’d sense him right away. If one of your family members put the ring on then Dar-usk’kin would have taken possession of their body. Joel we have to be careful. Dar-usk’kin is a crafty and powerful foe. If he’s free we’re in for a tough fight. In fact, I think we’ll need to find reinforcements before facing X’lye’ous and Dar-usk’kin again.”

“But if this Dar-usk’kin were free wouldn’t it take him a while to bond just like it’s taking us?”

“No, you see Chaos Daemons are very different from Knights of Order. We have to join with our vessels and the joining takes time as mind, body, and spirit are brought into alignment. The Daemons pour their essence into objects. When the object is touched by a human they switch places with the human. The human’s spirit goes into the object and their spirit fills the human. They have access to all of their vessels memories and skills, but they have to keep their token either on them or near them at all times. If the physical connection between vessel and token is severed then they return to the token and the human returns to their native body.”

At this Cordi paused to see if I understood. When I remained silent she continued.

“For Knights it’s a symbiotic relationship. We both benefit from the joining. Once the Joining is complete we will move as one and when we’re fighting it won’t seem like it’s me fighting or you fighting we’ll both be acting and re-acting as one being.”

I looked down trying to understand what she was telling me.

“Enough for now, you need sleep.”

I nodded, “Sleep sounds good.”

With that I pushed my awareness back toward my physical body. I could feel Cordi’s power still running through me and instinctively I began pulling it in, drawing it down, and confining it to my center while thinking about my body sitting cross legged in the basement of Cordi’s safe house. I again felt a shifting sensation and then the Court of Shadow faded away.

I blinked, my eyes felt like they’d been filled with sand, and every part of my body felt stiff and sore. I pushed myself to my feet and slowly made my way up the stairs out of the basement and to the largest of the three bedrooms. As I moved I could tell I was out of it, from exhaustion, both emotional and physical. My whole body felt off, uncoordinated, and awkward but I was too tired to care. The bed had been stripped. After a few minutes of searching I found a set of sheets, blankets, and pillows in the hall closet. I was too drained to make the bed so I grabbed a pillow and a blanket and went to sleep.

Sunlight streaming in through the window brought me slowly back to consciousness. For several minutes, I couldn’t figure out where I was and then it came back to me in a rush. The fire, my family presumed missing, and a Knight of Order sharing my body. As the strangeness of my situation sank in I bolted upright. When I did a whole new set of sensations assault me. My long black hair hung down in front of my face. My clothes felt loose in some places and tight in others, but the most overwhelming sensation was the unnatural feeling of movement on my chest. I couldn’t resist reaching up to feel my chest as I looked down at the protruding mounds of flesh.

My hands seemed wrong, small and delicate, as I squeezed my chest I felt the odd dual sensation of squeezing a woman’s chest and of having my boobs squished. Abruptly panic set in and I ripped at the blanket I’d wrapped around myself and spent a long moment struggling to disentangle my legs. Once free I stumbled to the bathroom and turned on the lights. As I did my pants slide down my slim hips to pool around my ankles.

The woman reflected in the mirror seemed familiar to me. I moved forward with little mincing steps because my feet where still entangled in my pants. She was wearing the t-shirt I’d been wearing yesterday, but it was her face that drew my attention. I reached up and pulled my long hair out of my way realizing that it was now at least shoulder length. My face was no longer mine. The nose was smaller and thinner, the chin came to a delicate point, the cheek bones where high and delicate and my lips were full. I suddenly realized I looked like Cordi’s little sister more than I looked like me. Then it hit me, I looked like a seventeen-year-old version of Beth!

Before I could continue to follow that train of thought my eyes focused on my chest. My nipples pushed out, straining the fabric of my t-shirt, making it impossible to avoid one clear fact. “I’ve got tits!”

I suddenly had to know the full extent of the changes and ripped at my clothes finding it more difficult than it should have been to remove them. At last I stood, naked, looking at my reflection. My skin was creamy pale color and I was now the proud owner of a set of breasts any girl my age would have been proud of! I had a thin waist and hips that flared out creating a feminine hour glass figure. The only places where I now had hair were on my head and a very small area around my tiny penis. I was at once relieved, that I was still a guy, and appalled at the number of changes my body had undergone.

“Cordi! What’s happening to me?!” I shouted, slightly reassured at the sound of my normal voice, incongruous as it was coming from my newly feminized mouth. Abruptly, I saw Cordi leaning against the wall looking at me with a mildly interested look on her face.

“Ah, I see we have made a tremendous amount of progress in just one day. If this keeps up our joining will be complete in less than two days. I think that will be a record! Beth really chose well when she picked you.”

“What do you mean our joining will be complete? What’s happening to me?”

“I thought you understood, my power is flooding your body and changing it. I’m a Knight of Order. My vessel’s body must, as closely as possible, match my body. Normally it takes between weeks to even months to get to this stage. I’ve been channeling as much power into you as I could and you’ve done a great job accepting the power and learning to focus and control your new energies. We will be a very formidable team once we’ve finished the joining!”

“You’re turning me into a GIRL! I don’t want to be a girl! I don’t want to be your twin! You never said this would happen to me.”

“I don’t understand,” Cordi sounded puzzled. “When Beth spoke to you she said that you’d have to give up your life and your future to save lives. This is what she meant. When our joining is complete none of your family or friends will know you. That’s a good thing since it will protect them from retribution.”

“Can we find another vessel? I don’t want to lose my life.” At this the ghostly image of Cordi moved to stand in front of me.

“Joel, yes, we could try, but it will take time. You’re not strong enough to use my power to find a new vessel. By the time you’re strong enough your body will be completely transformed. When I leave you, your body won’t change back, this process is irreversible. Then if we did find another vessel I’d have to join with that person and the process normally takes months. In the meantime if the daemons have your family there is no telling what’s happening to them. Joel, for the sake of your family, at this point, there is no turning back.”

I looked away knowing that she was probably right yet unable to accept the loss of my life and gender. After several minutes of silence I looked over at the image of Cordi and let out a sigh.

“Let’s just find out what happened to my family. After we know what’s happened to them we can figure out what to do about us, . . . er . . . this.” I said gesturing down at my body.

Cordi’s ghostly image looked relieved. “Joel, I have several sets of clothes stashed here. You’re taller than Beth was, at the start of her transformation, although that shouldn’t be a problem. I’ve got several different sets of sizes.”

“Okay, but first I need use the bathroom and then I need to get clean. Oh, and I’d like a little privacy.”

Cordi looked confused but nodded and then vanished.

Getting clean was a learning experience. I dug through the bathroom and discovered several different types of cleaning products that I had no clue how to use. I settled for a bar of soap and a bottle of shampoo. My hair was now as long in front as it was in back so I pulled it back and tied it with an elastic band once I’d dried it. Then I went in search of clothes.

“In the top drawer of the dresser you’ll find bras the next drawer down has panties.” Cordi whispered into my mind trying to be helpful.

“I thought I asked for privacy?”

In response I thought I heard a soft laugh and Cordi’s presence faded. I went to the drawers she’d recommended and pulled up a set of black panties that held what was left of my tiny manhood without trouble. I found a matching bra and after several unsuccessful attempts managed to get it on. Now feeling completely stupid I went to the closet in search of comfortable clothes. I found jeans and a black blouse that wasn’t too girlie and felt a little better now that I had clothes on but very self-conscious since they were girl clothes. I went into the kitchen and sat down at the table.

“Cordi, could you please come out and talk?”

“Of course”

And just like that her spectral image was sitting in the chair across from me.

“Cordi, I need to know if my family is safe.”

“Joel, I know. Please understand, if the situation hadn’t been desperate I’d have never allowed Beth to mark you without you fully knowing what was going to happen and what it all meant.”

“I don’t want to talk about that right now, can we just focus on my family?”

Cordi’s image looked down for a second and then back up at me and nodded. “Yes, of course. Let’s go to the study, I’ve got a computer there. We can access the internet and find out what happened at the fire. Then we can try getting in touch with your family.”

Cordi gave me directions and I soon found myself in front of a new looking computer. The dial-up connection was frustratingly slow but at last I was checking news articles. I quickly found a report on the fire. Apparently one body had been recovered from the fire and the family was missing. I stared at the screen for a long time trying to make the words seem real. Yet no matter how hard I tried I just couldn’t wrap my mental arms around the idea that someone had died in my house during the fire.

“Joel, we don’t know who died in the house or what really happened. I’ve got a few contacts and while we were in the Shadow-Court I sent a message to my brother asking for back up. I think it’s time we see if he answered.”

“I don’t think I’m up for another trip to the Shadow-Court.”

“That’s not necessary. We also use email to communicate.”

With that Cordi directed me to an e-mail account she used to communicate with other Knights who had been assigned to protect this realm. When I tried to open the account I got an alert that it had been closed down for a violation of the terms of agreement.

“Joel, I need to take control of our body for a few minutes.” Cordi said using my mouth to speak out loud in her feminine voice, a voice that now matched my body better than my own voice. I was starting to learn that when she was really serious this was her way of letting me know.

“Okay.” I responded and relaxed.

This time when she took over it was almost like a warm blanket had been wrapped around me. Cordi walked us over to another part of the room where a phone rested on a small table next to an answering machine. She quickly checked for messages and found none. Then she tried several numbers only to get no answer.

“Joel, something is wrong. There is a regional headquarters for North America where Knights will sometimes meet. I’m going to take us there.”

“What about my family?” I asked, the sound of my male voice coming out of my now female mouth was rather odd.

“If the daemons have them they are either dead or are being held as hostages for us to attempt a rescue. Until we contact the daemons or they contact us the clock hasn’t started ticking. Trust me, Joel, I’ve been doing this for a long time. We need to know what’s going on before we can make any moves.”

“So what will we do next?”

“Watch what I do and, more importantly, how I do it. Feel the power and how I use it.”

I nodded, mentally, since she had control of our body.

“I believe we’ve merged to the point where I can start to use some of my more advanced abilities.”

With that she reached out with one hand and the shadow cast by the computer desk leapt up covering our body. A second later the shadow dropped away leaving us wearing a set of black leather clothes that showed our female curves. The technique was the same one she’d taught me in the Court of Shadow when I’d created my armor so I was able to follow what she’d done. Then she reached out to the shadow cast by the open door and it leapt forward covering us in darkness. The light changed to a dim grey then it fell away and we were inside the ruins of a building.

“By the pattern of creation, this cannot be!”

I knew without having to ask that we’d used one shadow to step to another. To a shadow in another part of the country covering the distance in an instant. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to follow what she’d done. More distressing were the emotions I was feeling through my bond to Cordi, it didn’t take a genius to figure out that she hadn’t expected to find this place a smoking ruin.

I could feel Cordi’s sorrow turn into a cold fury as she moved around the ruined warehouse. The fire here had burned most of the building leaving the concrete and metal, charred and twisted, while devouring most of the rest of the building. As we walked through the ruin I caught a glimpse of a huge arch through one of the many holes in the wall.

“Are we in St. Louis?”

“Yes, but that’s not really important right now.”

I felt a tugging on my senses and a tingle. Cordi immediately turned in the direction I’d sensed the magic.

“Joel, what did you feel?” Cordi whispered to me mentally.

“I-I think someone, close by, just used magic. Human magic . . .” I responded making a guess.

“I can sense the daemon fire that was used to destroy this place. Then I felt what you did through our bond.” Cordi nodded as if coming to a decision, “Be ready for anything Joel, don’t speak out loud, but if you sense something let me know.”

We moved cautiously through the ruin toward the source of magic. After several minutes we stepped into a large open area and we both sensed that this was where the battle had truly been fought. The residue of daemonic power, human magic, and another power, that I figured must have been the Knight, were all strongly resonating here.

“No! Tenebris Lux!”

Cordi had spotted a body lying half buried in rubble near the center of the room. In one amazing leap we moved from the far side of the room to land, silently, only a few feet away. Then she was kneeling next to the body. I could tell that it had once been a man, but most of his body was covered in burns or was buried under the debris. Except for one patch of skin over his heart, here the exposed skin was untouched. Well, mostly untouched, there was a small circular patch of skin the size of a silver dollar missing.

“Cordi, what’s going on? What does this mean?”

“It means that my brother, Tenebris Lux’s vessel has been killed, and his mark has been taken. There’s no way that they could have gotten into this building without help. I’m afraid that the daemon’s may have made a deal with human Magic-Users and they are now working together. This explains why he didn’t answer my message.”

Cordi stood up and turned away from the remains of her brother and I got a strange feeling.

“Cordi, above us!”

She reacted instantly, glancing up we saw a strange looking rune that all of a sudden started glowing. As fast as the rune was, Cordi was faster, an early morning shadow leapt forward and suddenly we were on the other side of the room as a bolt of lightning struck the spot where we’d been standing.

“A trap within a trap?! Shall we see who it is that thinks to hunt a Knight of Order?!”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. They came prepared for your brother and look what happened to him.”

“They must have taken him by surprise. Instead I’ll turn this trap around on them, if there’s a chance, and if not then we’ll just watch and learn.” For a moment Cordi was silent and I could feel her anger die down to a cold determination before she continued. “Joel, I’m the Knight of Shadow, Order’s finest spy, and if necessary assassin. No one can find me if I’m prepared and don’t wish to be seen!”

With that we moved deeper into the shadows and I felt Cordi do something to twist the shadows around us.

“Did you see what I did Joel? I call it a shadow-cloak, you need to be ready, I’ve only got another hour and then I’ll have to turn control over to you. We are still not fully joined and even if we were, I’m at my best when I’m working together with my vessel.”

“I think so, at least, I think I can keep the shadow-cloak up if I need too.”

“Good, I’m going to pass control to you now. Just keep up the cloak and stay alert, I’ll be ready to take control if something happens.”

With that I felt Cordi pull back and I tried to maintain the Art she’d been effortlessly using to shield us. After a minute it slipped away. With some help from Cordi I got it up again and held it growing more confident in my ability as I settled down to watch and wait.

After about twenty minutes I heard a sound and when I glanced toward it I saw a pair of figures moving through the rubble. In the lead was a tall teenage boy, wearing a black leather jacket and, carrying a sawed off shot gun. Next to him walked an equally tall thin man with black hair going slightly grey at the temples he held a thick staff and I sensed it was more of a tool than a walking stick. As soon as I saw him I figured the guy with the staff must be the Magic-User. I tried to extend my sensitivity and after a minute I thought I could sense an aura of power around him.

I felt Cordi stir inside of me at the arrival of the two strangers.

“Be ready to act quickly Joel.”

“Uh, okay, do you know who they are?”

“I’ve never seen the one with the staff but the younger one looks familiar.”

I watched as the two men moved cautiously to stand over the body of Tenebris. The older man looked up and examined the rune on the above the body. After this he and the younger man started talking in low tones that I couldn’t make out from this distance.

“I wonder what their saying,” I thought.

“There is an art that would allow us to hear them but there’s no time to teach you. And for now it’s better for you to be in control of our body. With you in control the aura of my power is significantly dampened.”

By this time the two men separated. The younger man started walking around the warehouse obviously looking for a clue to the identity of the intruder. While he was doing this the older man began chanting and it was pretty obvious he was resetting the trap.

As the younger man got closer to me I got a little nervous.

“Cordi, what if he spots me?”

“Joel, you’ve got this. He won’t see us under the shadow-cloak, if I take control while he’s searching he might sense the shift. Just be calm and focus on what you’re doing.”

The youth got closer and I got my first good look at him. When I did I felt Cordi stir and a flash of anger.

“That’s the body X’lye’ous is currently possessing! By the Lords of Order I’d like to take his token right now!”

“Wait, I thought you said you didn’t know him! Couldn’t you sense him earlier?”

“Joel, with daemons unless they are actively using their power, it’s hard sense them from a distance. Unlike Knights when they possess someone they don’t change that person’s body, they are beings of Chaos so bringing mind, body, and spirit into alignment is not even relevant. Now, that he’s this close and I can see him clearly I recognize him, that’s the youth who ambushed me. It was X’lye’ous who was wearing his body.”

“Okay, then let’s take him down!”

“I’m not sure, if we fought him right now, that we’d win. In a few days I wouldn’t hesitate but right now, we might lose.”

“What about the human Magic-User?”

“He’s an unknown, and another good reason to watch and wait.”

By this time X’lye’ous was only a few feet away. He was moving very cautiously around the room looking into every corner and every shadow.

“Are you sure he can’t see us?”

“We’re safe, trust me.”

For a long second X’lye’ous paused looking into the shadow that hid us and then he moved on. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding as I watched him move away. By the time X’lye’ous had completed his circuit around the room the Magic-User had completed recharging the spell.

Once again they held a whispered conversation and then turned and headed back the way they’d come.

“Okay, Joel I need to take control. X’lye’ous is far enough away so that he won’t feel the shift and we need to follow them.”

“Fine,” I said, relaxing and felt Cordi push forward into every inch of my skin. “What was that?”

“You’re just becoming more attuned to me and my power, you felt me taking control of our body, that’s all.”

I sensed Cordi do something and then we were standing in a shadow in front of the building across the street from the ruined warehouse watching as X’lye’ous and the Magic-User climbed into a black sedan and pulled away.

“What now?”

“We follow.”

“We don’t have a car.”

Then the shadows shifted and we were standing on a rooftop looking down on the car as it approached. “Who needs a car.” The car turned left and the shadows shifted again. Now we were standing by a tree as the sedan approached the on ramp to a highway. Again and again the world moved around us as we leapt from one shadow to the next tracking the car.

“How are you doing this?” I asked, amazed.

“I’ve got the scent X’lye’ous power now, so tracking him isn’t a problem. I’m able to see into hundreds of shadows at once so it’s just a matter of picking the shadow that will give me the best view when he passes.”

“Will you teach me how to do that?”

“Of course, but for now I need to focus.”

Cordi continued to move us from shadow to shadow until the sedan stopped in front of an office building. The man with the staff, who I assumed was a Magic-User, got out and the sedan pulled away from the curb. For a second, Cordi hesitated, and then she took us to another shadow following the sedan. At last the car pulled into a detached garage slightly behind a secluded house. From where we stood I couldn’t see any other houses.

“Joel, I can sense the power of two daemons in and around that house. I can’t tell if they’re here right now or if they just visited recently.”

The house was a multi-level large farm house with a huge front porch and a detached three car garage. Abruptly, I saw the curtain in one of the second floor windows move and for a second I glimpsed my mother’s face then the curtain closed.

“Cordi! They’ve got my mom! We’ve got to do something.”

Without thinking about it I surged forward and my body responded taking a step toward the house. Abruptly, I froze unable to move. I felt Cordi struggle to try and stop me and I knew that it was a battle I’d win, but she was strong enough to cause us to freeze for a moment.

“Joel, what are you doing? There’s at least one daemon in that house and maybe more. We can’t win a fight against two or more daemons. It won’t do your mom any good for us to rush in there. You will die and I’ll be captured.”

“So we’re just going to watch and do nothing?!”

“No, we’ll do something, but we need to be smart about this, now please give me back control.”

I let out a frustrated sigh and relaxed. As soon as I did I felt Cordi surge forward like I was a suit of clothes and she was stepping into me. My eyes blinked and she lifted my hand looking down at the foot long shadow claws I’d unknowingly summoned. With a thought Cordi dismissed the claws and stepped into the shadow. Again the world changed around me and I was suddenly standing in the living room of the safe house.

“Why are we here?”

“I needed to get us way from the daemon so we can plan out what to do next.”

“They’ve got my mom and probably my sister and father! Let’s go free them!” I said feeling angry and even though I knew it didn’t help. It was just the idea of some monster holding my family, and doing God only knows what to them, caused me to want to weep with frustration.

“Joel, I understand what you’re feeling, in fact I can feel your emotions, but we need more information, a plan, and help. Keep in mind these guys took out my brother, Tenebris Lux. He was the Knight of Order known as ‘Dark-Light’ and no easy target. I want to make the daemons pay as badly as you do, however, we’ve got to do this smart. Or we’ll just end up dead or worse.”

“What’s worse than dead?”

“I can think of several things.”

After that I settled down and suddenly found myself fighting back tears.

“Joel, I need some time to consider the situation and I’d like to contact my mentor and ask her advice. It’s almost noon, why don’t you make some soup and try to relax.”

“I don’t understand. Are you going somewhere?”

“Our spirits are merging and my power is flowing into you, which is good, but the process takes time. I can separate a part of my spirit and send it to my body in the Court of Shadows from there I’ll contact my mentor in Order’s High Court. While I’m gone you’ll still have access to my power, just please, don’t do anything stupid. Eat, rest, and try to relax, in fact you should try taking a bath. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.

“Fine. I give you my word. I’ll wait for you to return before I do anything. But Cordi, . . . … please be quick.”

“Joel, I know this is hard, I promise you I’ll do everything I can to rescue your family.” With that I felt Cordi depart.

It was the strangest sensation. I didn’t realize that I could feel her presence inside my mind until she was gone or how much comforting her presence was. It felt like I was suddenly missing a piece of myself. We’d only been together for a couple of days and already it was like she was an essential part of me. I realized that I was starving and went to see what there was to eat.

I settled on a can of chili and after eating, dumped my dishes along with those from yesterday into the sink. I wandered into the living room and looked at all of the furniture still covered in sheets and thought about spending some time uncovering things and making the house look more lived and then remembered Cordi’s suggestion, that I should try a bath. I’m not normally a bath person but my sister seemed to love them and I was suddenly curious. Why do woman enjoy baths so much?

I walked through the master bedroom into the master bath stripping off clothes as I went. By the time I got to the tub I was down to panties and bra. I got the water running and then stood up to examine myself in the mirror while I waited for the tub to fill. The woman in the mirror could easily pass for late teens or early twenties depending on the clothes and makeup. I noticed that I hadn’t lost any height, although I now had a full set of curves, creamy pale skin, and long black hair that now reached the middle of my back. I slowly removed my bra feeling a sense of relief as my breasts were freed from the garment. I noticed that my nipples were bigger and much pinker than they had been before. The second thing I noticed was that the cold air in the bathroom caused an instant reaction. My skin goose fleshed and my nipples were soon standing at attention like two tiny erections.

I glanced at the tub and saw that it was almost half full. I could get in if I wanted to so without thinking about it I hooked my fingers into the waist band of my panties and pushed them down. When I straightened up I noticed that the tiny penis I’d had this morning was gone. As best as I could tell, having never seen one, I now had woman’s vagina. I was again filled with the urge to cry. This made me angry since I hadn’t cried for years and now my emotions were out of control. To cover up my conflicting feelings I stepped into the tub and slowly sat down.

The water was hot so I had to ease myself into it. I chuckled ruefully as I lowered my butt into the water. Normally the hot water against my scrotum and penis would have caused me to cringe but the lack of external equipment allowed me to sink into the hot water easier than before. Slowly, I immersed myself in the water so that the only thing sticking out was my head and the tips of my nipples as I lay back. The water continued to run and soon it was up to my chin. At this point I sat up and turned the water off and the returned to my soaking position.

I lay back trying not to think about my family or Cordi or the events of the day, and just to enjoy the heat as it soaked into my sore body. I tried a meditation technique I’d been taught years ago. I took all of the things that made me anxious and visualized them, a mental picture of my family, my house burning, and the daemons of Chaos attacking Cordi and one by one I put them into a box. After I’d locked each worry into the box I closed it and sent it to the back of my mind. With my mind now empty of worry I focused on breathing and relaxing. As I lay there in the hot soapy water I became aware of the dark core of power inside of me. I’d felt it before only now as I focused on it I realized that it had spread throughout my body. I could focus on it and fill my body with Cordi’s dusky power and then slowly release it allowing it to return to my center. I practiced summoning and dismissing the power several times and as I did I realized that it took less time and concentration every time I did it. I finally got tired of this and after a bit just settled back to soak.

I’m not sure how long I soaked but when I noticed that my fingers looked like prunes I figured it was time to get out. I stood up and realized I’d forgotten to get a towel. This meant walking across the bathroom to the linen closet leaving a trail of water as I went. With a sigh, I got out and once dry cleaned up the water and then went in search of clothes.

I found the bra’s from this morning and to my dismay I saw that they no longer fit. I’d gone up a cup size during the day. A quick search revealed another drawer with bra’s in my new size. The panties from the panty drawer still fit so now I went looking for comfortable clothes. It didn’t take me long to figure out that each of the three guest bedrooms had closets and dressers full of women’s clothes of different sizes. Most of these were for woman shorter than me. The master bedroom closet ended up being the closet with clothes my size. I looked at several dresses wondering how items so feminine would feel and was actually tempted to try them on.

At last I found some exercise clothes, a comfortable baby blue sweat pants and matching spaghetti strap shirt, and figured these would do. Clothed, I went into the living room and glanced out the window. It was early afternoon so I still had some time before Cordi returned. I pulled off the sheets covering the furniture and plugged in the TV. Mindless channel surfing seemed like a good idea. I soon realized that day time television sucks and went to the guest bedroom where Cordi had set up her computer.

I got on line again, still annoyed with the slow connection and looked at a couple of my favorite websites before getting bored and then out of reflex I checked my e-mail. I my heart skipped a beat when I saw an e-mail from my sister.

Joel,

Help!! Some men broke into our house; they killed Dad, and are holding Mom and me. They said that I could send you an e-mail and that you’d be able to find them. You have something they want and if you come alone they’ll let me and Mom go. Joel, please, just give them whatever it is they want! They KILLED DAD! They will kill Mom and me if you don’t call them and arrange a meeting.

Christina

I sat numbly looking at the computer screen. For several seconds I just couldn’t process what it was saying. Dad was dead. Mom and Christina were in danger and they wanted something from me. It didn’t seem real. These were just words on a page and yet in my gut I knew it must be true. The news had reported finding a body that body must have been my dad. I felt my eyes grow wet and blinked furiously. Men don’t cry, my dad had often told me and I normally did my best to live up to that. I felt like I was barely in control of my emotions so I turned off the computer and walked away.

Think Joel, what could they want?! Well, duh, they wanted Cordi but how could they take her? Cut her mark from my forehead? I’d never even seen the mark. Abruptly, I turned around and went to the bathroom and looked into the mirror. The face of a beautiful brunette with a pointed chin, small delicate nose, and high cheek bones started back. The image was of a girl I’d love to ask to prom, not the image that I wanted to stare back at me from a mirror. I wanted to date her, I didn’t want to be her!

The light was dim and I thought about the shadow-claws I’d made earlier and suddenly the shadows leapt forward coalescing into a set of claws on each hand. I glanced up from my hands to look into the mirror and for the first time I saw the mark. In the middle of my forehead a black rune resembling a Celtic knot had appeared when I used Cordi’s power. I dismissed the claws and filled my body with Cordi’s power, moving closer to the mirror to examine the rune. I touched it and felt a shock like static electricity. I focused on the rune and pressed my fingers into it and felt the power inside of me respond. There was definitely a physical and a mystical link between the mark and Cordi’s power. After a moment, I dismissed the power and watched the rune fade away.

I was marked, suddenly everything seemed very real. I mean turning into a woman, and all the things I’d done with Cordi felt real, but now here all alone looking into the mirror, it all caught up to me. I was looking at a total stranger with a strange mark on her forehead and I already knew how to use the power inside of me to do some amazing things. Mostly, I realized that my life had been forever altered, I was no longer just Joel Ryan Campbell, jock, student, son and brother. I started shaking and slowly slide to the floor wrapping my arms around my legs.

This was all just too much! I should call the Guild, after all I was a normal mundane human and the Guild was supposed to protect people like me from magic and magical predators. Then I thought about Cordi and the dreams I’d shared with her. She was here to protect humans from the daemons and our bond gave me the ability to fight the daemons and save other people.

I’m not sure how long I sat there but it dawned on me that I was being childish. I stood up. Ever since I was a small boy I’d dreamed of doing things to help others. At first, I’d wanted to be a Magic-User, a Special Agent or a Hound of Heaven, to use my powers to stop the evil in the world. Only my talent wasn’t strong enough. I figured that after high school I’d go to college and study criminal justice and then try to get into the FBI.

All of that was just a vague idea not even really a dream, right here right now I was being offered a real chance to help others starting with my family. Slowly my anger turned into a grim determination, the assholes holding my mom and sister were going down and I’d be the one to do it or die trying. I looked back into the mirror. Once more I summoned the shadow-claws and looked at the rune on my forehead. Standing there with my long black hair pulled back, the claws extending from my hands and the mark blazing with dark power on my forehead I realized I looked like a total bad ass. A hot bad ass, but still a bad ass and then I realized I wasn’t alone. Cordi’s presence filled the back of my mind like a hand sliding into a nearly perfectly matched glove.

“Ah, practicing, that’s good.”

“There’s something you need to see.” I said walking toward the computer room.

The full moon had just come up and its silvery light illuminated the back of house. I was a little surprised by how bright the moon was tonight and how easy it was to see the house from where I stood in a shadow cast by a large oak tree. This was the house where my mom and sister were being held and I felt a flush of anger as I looked at it. The bastards who’d killed my dad were in there, now it was payback time!

I was dressed in black leather pants with steel toed fighting boots that came up to my knees. I wore a black shirt and a long black leather duster. When I’d looked at my reflection in the mirror before we’d left the safe house I was struck by how much I resembled Kate Beckinsale from Underworld. I was nervous yet confident and even though I was angry it was now a cold anger.

After I’d shown Cordi the e-mail she’d been sympathetic and explained that we’d rescue my family tonight. She’d talked to her mentor who’d told her that she would contact another Knight assigned to our realm. She expected him to arrive at our safe house in a few hours. So in the meantime Cordi suggested another practice session in the Court of Shadows. This time when I stepped out from between the columns and faced Cordi I felt a determined focus fill me. It was the same determination I felt when I stepped onto the matt for a tournament. Cordi felt my mood and matched it with a grim determination of her own. I lost track of time as we practiced and nearly drove the shadow blade I’d been using into Cordi when she suddenly froze.

“Joel, I can feel another knight approaching. It’s time to return to your realm.”

I made the shadow armor and blade vanish and then with a slight effort of will returned to my body. I’d been sitting cross legged in the basement training area and was already dressed for the upcoming fight. I climbed to my feet and as I did I realized that I felt great! I was full of energy and felt like I could bench press a car. Before I opened the door to let the Knight in I felt Cordi stir.

“Hang on for a second, Joel.”

I then sensed Cordi do something and I realized I was looking at the front door from a shadow cast by the street light. I hadn’t physically moved in fact I was still in the house. Cordi had somehow used her power to see through a shadow behind the visitor.

“Caecus Cordi, didn’t anyone teach you that it’s impolite to leave a guest standing at your door while you spy on him?”

I felt Cordi smile and a spark of recognition. I knew it would be okay to open the door. Standing there facing me was a man somewhere between twenty five and thirty years old. I immediately thought he was Japanese but realized that my assumption was based on watching too many movies. He could be of Chinese or Korean descent, for all I knew, and I was a bit surprised that he was as tall as me. I felt Cordi surge forward and relaxed so she could take control.

“Ferrum Pugnus, it’s been a while” Cordi said motioning the man inside. “Please come in and be welcome.”

The man stepped past us and I noticed he was carrying a large soft leather case that sort of reminded me of a rifle case. Once inside Cordi shut the door and turned to face the man and I felt our heart speed up. In one smooth motion he stepped in close and wrapped his free arm around our waist and kissed us. I was too stunned to react and then I felt Cordi respond by kissing him back.

“Cordi, what the hell!” I thought at her.

Before I could take control of our body the knight stepped back and looked us up and down. Even though I was still sputtering from the kiss I could feel Cordi’s amusement.

“Settle down Joel, Pugnus and I have worked together many times over the years.”

“Settle down?! You just made me kiss a guy! Ugh, I need to wash my mouth out.”

“You didn’t kiss a guy, I did, Pugnus and I have, in other realms, and other times, been lovers. He is a handsome man, don’t you think?”

“What?! No! . . . I mean . . . I don’t know if he’s handsome . . . He’s a guy! And we are not going to do it with him! I’ve never even done it with a girl and you want me to do it with a guy?”

“Oh, settle down. No, we’re not going to do “IT” with him right now. We’ve got business. And I won’t rush you I know this transformation has been hard for you and I’ve been pushing you. Once your family is safe and we’ve recovered Tenebris’s Mark we can talk about this.

Our internal dialog happened in the space of a heartbeat although, as I looked at Pugnus, I could tell he knew Cordi and I’d been talking.

“The Grand Duchess DePotentia Et’Honestas, directed me to come here and assist you. She also said that your vessel had been killed in battle and your mark passed on to a new vessel.”

“Yes, I was ambushed by three daemons working together. Beth was slain but not before she passed on my mark.”

“I’m sorry, I’ve lost vessels and I know how hard it is. When did all of this happen and have you tracked the daemons responsible?”

“It was just three days ago, and yes, however, there’s more you need to know.”

“Three days?! It looks like you’ve almost fully joined with your new vessel! She must have been very similar to you in body and spirit for you to have done so much so quickly!”

When he said this I squirmed around a bit, “What does he mean come so far so quickly?”

“Sshh . . . we can talk about it later.” Cordi thought at me.

“Why don’t we sit down and I’ll explain what happened. However, the bottom line is that we’ve two mortals to rescue and Tenebris Lux’s mark to retrieve before it can be taken to the Wastes.”

For the next hour Cordi explained what had happened and she and Pugnus put together a plan. I asked why we weren’t involving the Guild and was told it was better for now to keep the Guild out of this since we didn’t know what their involvement might be. Besides, Cordi reminded me, we were still under orders to try to keep the war hidden from the natives of this realm.

“What about the Magic-User working with the daemon?” I asked.

“Joel, the plan we’ve made is sound, if the human interferes he will be dealt with.”

I would have grunted, if I’d been in control of our voice, so instead I gave Cordi a mental shrug. “If you say so.”

“Pugnus, I’m going to rest before we have to leave. Perhaps you could allow your partner and mine to talk? Joel is still very new at this and he probably has questions.”

The knight gave Cordi a startled look and then nodded.

“Certainly I could use a rest before tonight’s contest.”

Pugnus went still and then blinked. As this happened I felt Cordi relax and suddenly I was once again in control of our body.

“My name is Katsu, it is an honor to meet you.” His voice held a slight Japanese accent.

“Hi, I’m Joel.” I said and winced at the sound of my voice. I no longer sounded like myself. Instead, my voice was much higher pitched and had a different quality to it. It didn’t sound like Cordi’s, then I realized, I sounded just like Christina.

“Please excuse me, isn’t Joel a western name for a boy?”

“Well, yes, and up until three days ago, I was a normal American boy.” I said a little defensively.

At this Katsu looked a little surprised. “I didn’t know that a knight could claim someone of the opposite gender.” He paused, his eyes taking on a distant look and even though it was a brief pause, one that most people wouldn’t have even noticed, I realized he was conversing with his knight. “Ah, I must apologize. I knew that a vessel will change, physically, until it is as perfect a reflection of the knight. I just didn’t know that a knight could choose a new vessel of the opposite gender.”

I felt uncomfortable talking about this so to cover my discomfort I stood up. “Would you like something to eat? We’ve only got canned goods, but it’s better than nothing.”

Katsu nodded and stood up. “Yes, I’ve been traveling for the last couple of hours so something to eat would be welcome.”

The rumble of an approaching motorcycle brought me to the present. I used the technique Cordi had shown me and looked out of a shadow at the road running past the house. A single motorcycle raced by headed toward the farm house and I knew it was starting. Without waiting for Cordi I tried to reach into a shadow within the house and once again felt the ward that was protecting the house.

“Whoever put that ward up is very skilled with Spirit Magic.” Cordi whispered inside my head.

As she made this comment I saw Pugnus/Katsu come to a stop in front of the house. He got off the bike and pulled a pair of Katanas from the rifle case strapped to the side of his bike. The knight wasted no time drawing the weapons and moving forward. There was a flash of light as the protective ward flared and the knight slashed forward with his right hand blade. It struck the shield magically generated by the ward and cut through it like a knife through butter. Pugnus (I assumed he was in control at the moment) leapt from the ground to the porch and kicked in the front door.

As soon as the door shattered a body flew forward through the wreckage knocking Pugnus back. Both bodies hit the ground and rolled apart surging to their feet. For a second I got a good look at the same youth I’d seen earlier who Cordi had identified as X’lye’ous.

“Joel, it’s time to move. I need control.”

Cordi’s whispered thought reminded me of the plan and I relaxed so that she could take over. I felt her move a hand up rubbing my eyes and then I was seeing inside the house. There were shadows in almost every room and I saw an older man with a staff moving toward the shattered door. Then my vision shifted and in the hallway of the second floor a slightly overweight woman in her mid-thirties stood restlessly in front of a door.

“Hey, how is it we can now see into the house? It was warded,” I thought at Cordi.

“Pugnus’s attack took down the ward, now shush, I need to focus!”

Cordi reached for the room behind the woman and there was no response, “That’s odd,” I thought.

“Not if they’ve taken steps to remove all shadows. They have either left the room in total darkness or set up bright light from all directions to flood the room.”

As I watched, I saw the woman look up suddenly and then glance around. She could somehow feel us as we spied on her!

“She can feel me because she’s a daemon. I think that’s the daemon I didn’t recognize with the human-spider body. He’s the weakest of the three. Try to relax Joel and just move with me.”

The shadows leapt up and I was suddenly standing behind the daemon. I blurred forward and a sword made of shadow formed in my right hand as I moved. The blade struck perfectly punching through the woman’s back with the tip appearing between her breasts as Cordi completed the thrust.

“Arrghh!!”

The daemon’s cry shook the building and there was no way those fighting outside couldn’t have heard it. Cordi pulled the blade out and spun it in a horizontal cut aimed at the woman’s neck. Impossibly she managed to duck and kicked out blindly behind her. Cordi smoothly blocked the kick with her left hand and then chopped down viciously with her right cutting the daemon’s leg off at the knee. The woman fell forward, her second scream of pain was even louder than the first, and then she rolled over on to her back to look up at us.

“Bitch, you haven’t won yet!”

“Maybe not, but I’ve got you!”

The woman flung out a hand and from her wrist a rope of sticky webbing shot forward. Cordi was faster, the shadows moved, and suddenly we were standing behind the woman watching as the bolt of webbing shot through the space where we’d stood an instant earlier. Cordi abruptly focused on the gold stud earring in the woman’s right ear. We leaned forward and grabbed the earring with our free hand and with a quick twist jerked it from the woman’s ear. As soon as we tore the earing free the woman went into convulsions that lasted several seconds before she went still.

“What the hell just happened?” I silently thought at Cordi.

“I took the daemon’s token. Once the token is taken the daemon is forced to leave the body its’ stolen and it returns to its token.”

“What will happen to her?”

“Unfortunately, she’ll remember, everything. The Daemon used the same physical brain that belongs to this woman. So even though the memories will be vague and disjointed they’re still there. In some ways, it would be better to let her die.”

“Cordi, we can’t do that.” I said out loud

“I know.”

With that Cordi reached down and covered the stump of woman’s leg and I sensed the flow of her power. When she took her hand away the bleeding had stopped and new skin covered the stump. Next Cordi pressed our palm into the wound on the woman’s chest and again I felt a familiar surge of power. At this the woman seemed to relax passing out. When Cordi pulled her hand away the wound on her chest was nothing more than a scar.

“That’s as much as I can do for her.”

“Then let’s go rescue my mom and sister!”

Cordi stood up and we moved to the door. For a moment, I thought Cordi would try to pick the lock and then we moved, blurring forward with a front stomp kick that smashed in the door. As soon as the door gave way we dove over the threshold into a smooth front roll that took us several feet into the room. We came to our feet in the light of the doorway and everything around us was dark. Obviously, they’d gone with the no light option attempting to keep Cordi out. Now, however, there was plenty of light streaming in from the doorway. I noticed that there were two beds and a woman shackled to each bed. I spotted my mother to my right blinking furiously at me as I stood in the illumination provided by the hallway.

I realized that with the light behind us they wouldn’t be able to see our face and even if they could they wouldn’t have recognized me. Without thinking I pushed forward taking control of our voice.

“You don’t know who I am, but I’ve talked to Joel, and I’m here to rescue you. Can you walk?”

“You know Joel?” My mom asked.

“Yes, and please don’t be afraid. I’m a friend.”

I stepped forward and grabbed the chain connecting my mom’s ankle to the bed and with a flick of my right hand, the shadow-claws I’d been practicing with materialized and sheered through the chain like a knife through butter. I turned to my sister who looked frightened and had pushed back away from me putting her back to the wall.

“Don’t be afraid Christina I’m here to rescue you.” I quickly repeated the same process with Christina, severing her shackle with a quick cut from my claws.

“Alright, are you ready to get out of here?” I asked drawing on Cordi’s power and as I did I felt Cordi start to guide me in my first shadow-step. Suddenly, there was a ripple of energy and it felt like a blanket had been thrown over the house.

“Give me control!” Cordi silently, ordered.

I instantly relaxed and felt Cordi try a quick shadow-step focusing on the safe house and nothing happened. She then tried to see what was going on outside, but the ward that had been activated prevented this as well.

“Ladies, it’s time to go, give me your hands.”

My mother reached out instantly, but Christina was still hesitant. Cordi quickly took Christina’s arm and pulled both of them to their feet and then the shadows moved and we were standing in the front entry to the house. Through the shattered door we could see a battle going on as Pugnus fought both the mysterious human with the staff and a monster! I assumed that the monster was X’lye’ous in Chaos form. Both Pugnus and X’lye’ous had changed since last I’d seen them. Pugnus was now the image of a Samurai warrior standing twelve feet tall with a pair of Katanas that burned with an intense blue light in each hand. I saw, in that moment with a crystal clarity, the image of X’lye’ous burned forever into my mind. He was naked, his skin from the waist up was a bright red, while from the waist down he looked like a gorilla, with the exception of the large human looking penis. He was bald, and his nose and mouth had pushed out into a snout with a large set of fangs pushing up from his lower jaw. Out of his forehead a pair of horns grew curling like a rams. His fingers resembled snakes and in his hand he held a long spear.

Pugnus had his hands full every time he seemed to gain an advantage over X’lye’ous the human would send a blast of energy at him, distracting him, causing him to block it, and giving an opening for X’lye’ous. Sooner or later either an attack from the human or daemon would break through his defense.

“We should help him!”

“Stay here!” Cordi said, glancing back at my mom and sister.

With that we bound forward and when our feet hit the ground I felt a rush of energy from within us and the shadows around us responded leaping forward covering us at Cordi’s command. Then the world changed! It appeared much as it does in the Realm of Shadows, stark blacks contrasting with impossible whites and thousands of shades of gray filling the spectrum in between without a drop of color. Then everything started getting smaller.

X’lye’ous turned toward us in slow motion and spun his spear around so that it was pointing at us. Fire blasted from the spear in slow-motion and as I felt the shadows finish their work we crossed our arms. The fire hit a shadow-shield appeared just in front of us leaving us untouched. Cordi and I didn’t hesitate moving as one we brought our arms down pointing the matching shadow-pistols at X’lye’ous and started firing. I knew without looking that we were now dressed in black leather from head to toe and that a duster had grown around us taking on power and magical properties. The bullets seemed to fly slowly toward X’lye’ous and to me they looked like they were made of shadows.

X’lye’ous reacted by spinning his spear in a quick circle generating a shield of fire that the shadow-rounds impacted with a thunderous report. Even as this happened Pugnus jumped forward cutting down at X’lye’ous with one of his blades. Unable to spin around fast enough to block Pugnus, X’lye’ous screamed as Pugnus blade cut into his shoulder and sliced down at an angle toward his mid-section.

“Arrggghhhh!!!”

Just then I sensed an attack from my right and brought my arms up again to shield as the human attacked. His attack startled Cordi because it wasn’t physical instead it struck directly at our spiritual connection bypassing our shadow-shield.

“Nnooooo”

I felt her mental shriek and then her voice went silent. I responded by bringing my shadow-guns around on target and unleashing a barrage of shadow-rounds at the human. As I did he made a gesture of warding and my shadow-rounds smashed into some type of mystical barrier. However, I sensed something strange and opened my mind fully to my human sensitivity to magic. I realized that his shield consisted of hundreds of spirits. Each spirit pushed itself in front of one of my rounds blocking it and as this happened the spirit vanished. At the rate I was firing it would only be a second or two until his spirit shield failed. In the back of my mind I wondered why I hadn’t run out of ammo, but I dismissed the thought as unimportant at the moment.

As focused as I was I still caught a flash of movement and trusting my instincts I pitched myself to one side turning the move into a classic Aikido side roll coming to my feet with my guns trained on the new threat. The monster standing where I’d been a moment before was the creation of some twisted imagination. Its legs at the mid-thigh had morphed into a pair of bird’s legs bending backward at the knee joint, its talons digging into the ground. Its body was that of a man with a black pair of large bird’s wings sprouting from its back. When it turned its head to look at me I saw the face of a handsome man with a strong jaw and high cheekbones and a third eye in the center of his forehead.

“And so we resume our battle Caecus Cordi, only this time I will be taking your mark!”

“Fuck you!” I shouted and was only slightly surprised that my voice sounded just like Cordi’s thundered as loudly as it had earlier.

I instantly started shooting him with my left hand gun while shooting at the human with my right hand gun. Since my attention and aim was primarily focused on the winged monster most of my rounds fired at the human went wide, but they seemed to keep him busy for the moment. The winged monster moved like a blur using a pair of Kama’s to block my shots and then crossing them to send a burst of green energy at me.

I wasn’t sure what would happen if I tried to block the energy so I twisted to one side narrowly avoiding it. I used my momentum to spin in a full circle intending to bring my guns on line again, and as I did I saw Pugnus move behind the monster preparing to attack. The human saw this as well and unleashed a new attack from his staff. A whirlwind of sparkling energy shot from the staff in a cone that lifted Pugnus from his feet and threw him back into the side of the house. For a moment my breath caught and then Pugnus climbed to his feet.

“So, Magic-User, you wish to play with a Knight of Order! Know that I am Sir Ferrum Pugnus, and you will die this day upon my blades!”

At this the human laughed and as he did he floated into the air. “Know you, O Knight of Order, that I am no Magic-User! I am the Master Sorcerer Silas O’Duibhir and I doubt very much that you will be the end of me.”

At this my attention was diverted by an arcing Kama, which I ducked, only to catch a backhand strike from the monster on my leather covered forearm. We spun apart and facing each other just beyond easy striking distance.

“You may have Caecus Cordi’s power but you don’t move like her! Silas must have been telling the truth when he said he could separate a Knight from her vessel! I’m going to enjoy killing you and taking Caecus Cordi’s mark!”

“I don’t think so!” I said, circling around to my left.

“Give it up, Joel, and I’ll make this as painless as I can.”

“How do you know my name?”

“I know your name because I’ve taken your sister! I’ve got her body and memories! Didn’t Caecus Cordi tell you what would happen if someone found my token and decided to try it on?”

“Christina?” I asked in shock.

“Yes, Christina is in here. Who do you think set your house on fire? Who do you think killed your dad?” As he talked he circled looking for an opening.

“I don’t believe it! You aren’t my sister! She’s in the house with my mother right now!”

“Oh, is that what you think? Go ahead and take a look I’ll give you a second.”

I couldn’t resist and looked over my shoulder at the entrance. Lying there, with her body draped over the threshold, was my mom. She looked almost peaceful except for the huge pool of blood below her slit throat. I turned back just in time to duck a swipe from the birdman’s Kama.

“You’ve failed Joel! Your mother and father are both dead and I’ve taken your sister as my vessel. We’ve separated you from your protector Sir Caecus Cordi. If you give up now I may let you live.”

As the birdman talked he continued to attack and for the next several seconds I focused on ducking, blocking, and dodging each strike. As I did I felt alone and helpless, who was I to battle this monster from beyond the human realm? There was no way I could defeat an immortal monster from beyond the human realm. I felt a tide of despair rising inside of me. What could one person do against a monster created from the raw energies of chaos?

Yet, I refused to give up. Everything I’d learned in the martial arts and from my dad told me that the surest way to defeat was to quit! I ground my teeth and blocked the next slashing attack from bird-monster’s kamas. I kept moving dodging more than blocking, not even trying to go on the offensive, just trying to survive the current attack. Then when I thought I was about to die it happened. I felt a warm comforting presence inside of me. In that instant I knew it was Cordi and even if I couldn’t talk to her, her presence provided me with an emotional boost. I also suddenly knew the creature’s name.

“FUCK YOU! I’ll never surrender to you, Dar-usk’kin!”

The daemon paused in its attack and I went on the offensive firing a salvo of rounds and then driving a spinning back kick into its chest. The force of my kick threw it back even if it didn’t really hurt it.

“How do you know my name?! Bah, that Sorcerer’s magic was over rated! I’ll still take your mark!”

Just as he started to move forward he paused. I sensed someone coming up beside me and spared a quick glance to my right. Pugnus was moving to stand next to me. His armor was battered but he looked more than ready to continue to fight.

“We will have to settle this another day Sir Caecus Cordi!”

With that a green mist poured out of his body quickly surrounding him. I started firing into the mist at once and kept at it until it dissipated. There was no sign of Dar-usk’kin, he was gone.

I glanced around the battle field quickly. X’lye’ous body was lying several feet away obviously dead and his hand had been removed.

“What just happened?” I asked Pugnus.

“I got the upper hand on the human and he parted the veil and stepped beyond this world. Once he fled I turned to help you and that’s when Dar-usk’kin retreated.”

“Shouldn’t we go after him?”

“I’m game if you are. Lead the way after all you’ve always been the better tracker.”

“I, ah . . . I don’t know how.”

At this Pugnus looked at me closely. Moving over to stand in front of me he looked directly into my eyes.

“You are wounded, not in body, but in spirit I think it best if you rest for now. There will be another chance to take Dar-usk’kin’s token and perhaps it would be best to anonymously notify the Guild that they have a Sorcerer on the loose here in St. Louis.”

I sat cross legged in the basement of the safe house wearing the comfortable sweat pants and t-shirt I’d found in one of the many dressers filled with clothes. As I sat there I focused on the knot of power inside of me and tried to relax my mind and body. It was harder than usual because of all the things that had happened last night.

After we decided we weren’t going to chase Dar-usk’kin or the Sorcerer we’d returned to normal human size. Then with me following behind Pugnus climbed the steps leading into the farm house. There in the doorway was the unmoving body of my mother. I looked down at her lifeless body trying to understand my emotions. Then my knees gave out and I sank to the ground next to her. Tears streamed unashamedly down my cheeks, I sat unmoving, unable to reach out and touch her. As if the act of touching her would make her death much more real. After a couple of minutes Pugnus came up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry Joel. This never should have happened. Dar-usk’kin must have taken possession of your sister and pretended to be her. When a daemon takes a human they can sometimes hide so deeply inside the human that we can’t sense them, until they use their power. Most of the time it doesn’t matter, because a daemon doesn’t have the self-discipline to go for more than a few hours without using their power, Dar-usk’kin appears to be one of the few daemons with the self-discipline to have done this. He was probably hoping to get you alone and ambush you. When you joined the battle here he figured the odds were good enough and attacked. Or seeing the battle he just couldn’t hold back any longer, it’s hard to know for sure.”

I nodded, remembering Cordi’s words from earlier, not trusting myself to speak I took several deep calming breaths. Finally, I wiped my face and looked up.

“What about the woman up stairs? What will happen to her?”

“I’ll place an anonymous call to the Guild. They’ll send out a team and since she was injured with magic, and is a mundane human, they’ll do their best to help her.”

When I nodded Pugnus squeezed my shoulder, again. I stayed where I was looking at my mom, and thinking about how all of this seemed impossible. So much had happened in just a few days. Pugnus entered the house and searched it. It seemed like almost no time had passed before Pugnus was back carrying an enchanted chest. He sat it down on the front lawn and I got up and followed. I felt hollow inside, yet I couldn’t take just sitting there looking at my mother’s body any longer. Pugnus chanted something and then opened the chest. He reached in and held up a piece of skin with Tenebris Lux’s mark burned into it. The mark was silvery in color and closely resembled mine. Pugnus handed it to me and told me that since Tenebris Lux was Cordi’s brother it would be best if I found a new vessel for him.

At this point I produced the earing Cordi and I’d taken from the woman in the hallway and asked him what I should do with it. Pugnus told me that taking a daemon’s token was a badge of honor and that once I’d figured out how to contact Cordi she’d tell me what to do. He did offer a black bag with silver runes, that resembled the one Cordi had used earlier, and said it would be best to keep the token in a spell protected bag.

“Do you think you can shadow-step back to Cordi’s safe house or do you need my help?”

“I think so,” I said. I focused on the technique Cordi had been teaching me. I’d seen her use it several times now and felt confident even if this was the first time I’d tried it on my own. When the shadows responded to me I found myself in the living room of the safe house.

At that point the sun was starting to come up so I stumbled into the bedroom and threw myself down onto the still unmade bed. I’d thought that it would be impossible to sleep but I was out almost as soon as my head hit a pillow.

I slept for twelve hours straight and when I woke up I felt stiff and sore. I reached out to Cordi and there was no response. Then I remembered that both my mother and father were gone and my sister was possessed by a daemon. I wrapped myself around my pillow for the first time since I’d been a small boy allowed myself to cry. Finally, when no more tears would come, I sat up. The need to pee was a demand I couldn’t escape and it forced me out of bed. It was still strange to sit down and the different female parts reminded me of how much I’d changed of how much I’d lost. When I looked into the mirror the face that stared back at me was still beautiful and I realized that Cordi’s face was even prettier when she’d been crying. As I stared into the mirror looking for some hint of my own face I caught a whiff of my body odor.

“Ugh, I stink” I said out loud and was surprised at how feminine my voice was and by how much I sounded like Cordi.

I stripped out of the grimy clothes I’d been wearing and got into the shower. The feeling of soap on soft slick female skin was still new and felt surprisingly good. Once clean and dry I went in search of clothes and that’s when inspiration hit me. If Cordi couldn’t talk to me maybe I could reach out and talk to her. I dug through her dressers until I found sweats and a t-shirt that fit. I decided to skip the bra in the interest of comfort and headed down to the basement training room.

Now sitting in the training room I was going to try to project myself into the Shadow Court. It took three tries but at last I found myself standing among the columns. I took my time following the spiral path that led to the center of the Court. I wasn’t sure if I was confident that I’d find Cordi or if it was the fact that walking through the columns was comforting, but for the first time since I’d watched my house burn, I felt at peace.

When I got to the twined pillars I looked for Cordi on the throne beneath them and for a second I thought it was empty despair welled up at the back of my throat and my knees went weak. How could I fight the daemons of chaos without Cordi? Then I caught the hint of movement and she stepped out of the shadows. For a second we stood facing each other eye to eye and I realized that either she was smaller or I’d grown.

“Both actually,” Cordi said with a smile.

“What do you mean?”

“Joel, when the Sorcerer cast his spell my spirit was severed. Part stayed with you and part returned here. If we’d been fully bonded I doubt his spell would have worked, as I said, during the joining we’re vulnerable.”

“Okay, but I don’t understand what you meant by me growing and you getting smaller.”

“Only that you’re full joined to the part of my spirit that stayed with you and that by losing part of myself I’m weaker and smaller.”

“How do we fix this?” I said gesturing to her and me.

“Quite easily, if you’re still willing to be my partner?”

For a minute I hesitated. My mother and father were dead and my sister was a meat puppet for some daemon. I’d lost everything. Yet, even as I thought it, I realized that I missed Cordi and couldn’t imagine living without her. I also wanted to free my sister and the idea of stopping the daemons of chaos from wreaking havoc on my world filled me with a sense of purpose.

I opened my arms offering a hug, “Now and forever, if you’ll have me.”

Cordi’s brilliant white smile was so bright it almost hurt my eyes as she stepped into my arms and when we hugged each other there was a tingling sensation that turned into an icy-hot fire that blazed within me, and then I was sitting once again cross-legged in the basement training room of the safe house.

“Welcome home Caecus Cordi!” I said out loud and noticed that my voice was now a perfect match for Cordi’s.

“It’s good to be whole again! So, Joel Ryan Campbell, are you ready to get to work?”

Synopsis:

A youthful Conan, having just won his freedom from his eastern masters, has traveled to the wild coast port city of Costa. Conan has settled into Costa and is using his skill as a thief and a warrior to survive. The sorcerer/merchant Captain Zula commissioned Conan the thief, to retrieve a pair of spell books from his mother’s (the infamous Sea Witch) island. During the raid Conan and Infidia the ‘Blade of Costa’ fall victim to the Sea Witch’s magic. Now they must use wits and blade if they are to survive and return to Costa!

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Author note: I didn’t create the character Conan and do not I plan to make any money from the use of the character in this story. This was written for public consumption and enjoyment.

Author note 2: This story was inspired by Bill Hart’s great cover on TG caps

“Know, oh prince, that between the years when the oceans drank Atlantis and the gleaming cities, and the years of the rise of the Sons of Aryas, there was an Age undreamed of, when shining kingdoms lay spread across the world like blue mantles beneath the stars — Nemedia, Ophir, Brythunia, Hyperborea, Zamora with its dark-haired woman and towers of spider-haunted mystery, Zingara with its chivalry, Koth that bordered on the pastoral lands of Shem, Stygia with its shadow-guarded tombs, Hyrkania whose riders wore steel and silk and gold. But the proudest kingdom of the world was Aquilonia, reigning supreme in the dreaming west. Hither came Conan, the Cimmerian, black-haired, sullen-eyed, sword in hand, a thief, a reaver, a slayer, with gigantic melancholies and gigantic mirth, to tread the jeweled thrones of the Earth under his sandaled feet.”

- The Nemedian Chronicles
The Coming of Conan the Cimmerian (Conan the Barbarian), by Robert E. Howard, Ballantine Books, New York, 2003

The creak of the door opening went unheard in the cacophony of the tavern by all except the Cimmerian who sat to one side in the shadows, a frothy mug of ale untouched in front of him. The noise and the stench of the taproom were difficult for the youth raised in the wilds of Cimmeria to tolerate. Conan, a tall, muscular lad with black hair and ice cold blue eyes, sat with the dour expression of one who was raised in the harsh hills where Crom the God of Iron ruled.

The serving wench who’d brought Conan his ale and took his request, for stew and bread, eyed him with a calculating gaze. She was a worn-out looking woman with dirty blonde hair and breasts that sagged within her loose smock. She assumed that the youth would be an easy target in the anarchic merchant city of Costa, but then she’d spotted his broad sword and glanced into Conan’s eyes; it was like looking into a pair of merciless blue glaciers. The wench swallowed and glanced away, wondering what the lad had been through to forge him into a hardened warrior at such an early age.

The people who lived in the soft lands of the south that surrounded the Azure Sea had understood neither the passions, the pain, and the cruelty that ruled the unforgiving frozen north, nor the furnace that had forged the iron of Conan’s spirit into the steel now housed within his breast. Conan lifted his mug filled with nut brown ale to his lips and drank deeply. He was satisfied that the taproom and its patrons offered him no threat. Conan wiped away the froth from the beer with the back of his hand and when he looked up, he spotted an interesting figure. Seated at a table closer to the bar was a woman in black leather pants and a dark cloak with its hood tossed back, revealing her astonishing mane-like red hair. What caught Conan’s eye beyond her beauty was the amount of steel she displayed. A pair of daggers protruded from the top of each knee high boot, a set of curved fighting knives hung from her belt, and a rapier was suspended from her left hip in a duelists rig. Conan felt sure there were other weapons on this curious woman that he had not yet spotted. Suddenly, they locked gazes. Unlike most women, she didn’t look away. Conan also noticed that she had clear green eyes, which were uncommon in this southern coastal city. She stood up smoothly and started to move through the crowed toward him.

The double doors to the inn burst open with a shout and a gust of wind announced the presence of four rough-looking sailors. They wore the loose-fitting well-worn clothes of salty buccaneers who spent more time prowling a ship’s deck than a pier side tavern. What caused Conan to take note of them was the way all four locked onto the red headed woman who’d been making her way toward Conan’s table. The tallest of the four sailors moved forward confidently with an evil grin on his face.

“Infidia, you’re coming with us wench! Captain Derek wants to talk to you,” he said.

“I don’t think so, Bran. My business with Captain Derek was a onetime deal. I filled my end of the bargain. It’s not my fault that he was cheated after I left. Besides, I’m not in the mood to go anywhere with you,” she replied, dropping her left hand to her sword hilt and turning slightly so that the sailor couldn’t see her right hand. As she said this, the sailors spread out around the tables in an attempt to surround her.

Conan stood up; even though this wasn’t his fight he hated seeing a woman abused. He had no intention of letting these four men drag the red head to some meeting against her will.

Suddenly, the tall sailor that seemed to be the leader reached out to grab her. Infidia responded by snapping a kick into the sailor’s thigh, making a meaty sounding thud on contact. This slowed the sailor down and caused him to grab his leg in pain. The distraction gave Infidia the opening she needed to lash out with her right hand. To the Bran’s surprise, she was holding a leather tube that unrolled and extended by nearly a foot as she swung it. The end of the tube was filled with steel pellets and it slapped into the side of Bran’s head with a crack. He immediately dropped to the floor.

Infidia took advantage of the opening to rush toward the door while the patrons cheered. Cursing, the other three sailors raced after her. The smallest and quickest of the sailors dove forward, tackling her just a few paces from the door to the tavern. The woman lashed out with a booted foot, catching the sailor who’d tackled her in the nose before he was able to pin her down. Infidia used this opportunity to get to her feet in time to meet the two remaining sailors with her right hand once again hidden behind her back and a foot long curved dagger in her left hand.

Unobserved by either Infidia or the sailors confronting her, Conan, who started to move forward when the fight began, quietly sat down. He watched, mesmerized by the woman holding her own against four men.

“Boys, this didn’t have to get ugly,” Infidia said sweetly adding, “and it can stop now.”

“Yer coming with us girlie and if ya hurt Bran, the Captain’ll take it out of yer pretty skin!” said the sailor to her left, smacking his open palm with a three foot club as he advanced.

“Tal, have you forgotten who I am?!” Infidia said. “I earned my title as the ‘Blade of Costa’ by besting opponents far more skilled than you!”

Then, before he could get too close, Infidia whipped her right hand out and threw a small object at the ground between the two advancing sailors. When it hit, there was a flash of light and a loud bang. Using the distraction, Infidia snapped a kick into Tal’s groin, causing him to double over. She then slammed the hilt of the long knife she was holding in her left hand against the back of his skull, dropping him to the ground. However, the remaining sailor managed to grab her knife hand and drive a fist into her gut. The blow caused her to briefly bend over, but then she stepped in close, spinning and dropping her hip below her opponent’s center. Infidia grabbed the sailor’s arm that still held her knife hand and with a quick twisting motion, she threw him over her hip and onto the ground.
Before the sailor could recover from the throw, she grabbed the wrist of the hand that had been holding her knife hand and brought his elbow down across her knee. The crack of the sailor’s elbow breaking was followed by a shriek of pain. Infidia stood up and moved away from her downed opponents, looking at the one remaining sailor bleeding from his broken nose.

“Go back to Captain Derek and tell him that his business with the Blade of Costa is done. The next time he sends men after me, I’ll leave them each with two copper bits for their funeral pyres. If he doesn’t like it, he can take it up with my master, the sorcerer Captain Drako Zula,” Infidia said. Not waiting for an answer, Infidia turned and left the tavern.

In a few minutes, the sights and sounds within the tap room had returned to normal and the serving wench, who’d been mesmerized by the sight of a single woman defeating four men, made her way over to the table where the hard eyed Cimmerian had been drinking. She found an empty table and a mug turned upside down. Cursing the youth and resenting the fact that the bartender would slap her for letting him leave without paying, she scooped up the cup and gasped with surprise when she found a pair of copper coins sitting under it hidden from anyone else.

The night was hot and humid and it made Conan miss the cool climate of his native Cimmeria, but it was not enough for him to let his guard down. The alley two blocks south of the Froth & Tide tavern appeared to be empty, but Conan moved forward with his senses alert for danger. As a boy, he’d learned to hunt the woods of Cimmeria where caution and keen senses often determined whether you went to bed hungry or not. This heightened sense of things served him well because he became aware of the person in the shadows toward the back of the alley.

“Show yourself,” Conan said moving forward one hand resting casually on the hilt of his broad sword.

The shadow draped figure moved far enough into the dim light for Conan to see the red haired woman from the tavern. Her hand also rested casually on the hilt of her rapier.

“You followed me."

“The message said to meet Captain Zula’s agent at the Froth & Tide to discuss a job. I’ve heard of the ‘Blade of Costa’ but I didn’t know that the ‘blade’ was a woman. Then you left before we could talk. What did Captain Zula want with me?”

“I’m not surprised you didn’t know that the Blade is a woman. The title is earned every summer during a weeklong tournament. I’ve held it for two years now and men of Costa are still afraid to let outsiders know that a woman is the best blade in the city.”

“Your reputation has grown here in Costa, Conan of Cimmeria. Your name has reached the halls of the thirteen merchant Captains who rule the city. Drako Zula would like to meet you and offer you a job. There is an object he’d like to pay you to recover for him. He’ll pay you well.”

Conan grunted at this, “Zula is a Sorcerer I hate magic and don’t trust those that use it! I came to the meeting to hear what he wanted, but I’ve no desire to work for a Sorcerer.” With that he turned to go. As he did Infidia took a step forward.

“This will be a mission that only the most daring thief and skilled warrior could hope to accomplish. It will make you a legend among thieves!”

Conan stopped in his tracks. Gold, steal, and battle were important to Conan he’d learned the meaning of these things during his time as a slave and then as a gladiator and finally a free man. But more than anything the youthful Cimmerian craved acclaim.

“What is it your master would have me steal?”

“Come with me and he’ll tell you himself.” Infidia replied.

Conan’s boots echoed on the polished stone of the dimly lit hall. Conan and Infidia walked down the center of the rectangular shaped hall with tall columns to either side. The dim flicker of torch light caused the shadows to dance as they approached the dais where a tall figure sat. When they got close enough Conan saw that the man had the dusky skin of a Stygian and had shaved either side of his head leaving a long strip of hair down the center. When his eyes locked onto Conan’s Zula grinned his white teeth gleaming in the dark.

“Welcome to my hall Conan of Cimmeria,” Zula said.

“I hear you have a job for me, Conjuror.”

At this Drako Zula glanced at Infidia and then back at Conan, “yes. My mother, the Sea Witch, Anguis Zula has for many years has lived on a remote island to the south and east of us along the wild coast. She died, the Gods be praised, about a year ago. I need an agent to travel to her island and retrieve a pair of spell books.”

“What makes you think this island and tower haven’t already been looted by pirates from the wild coast?”

“My mother was a skilled witch, Conan, both the island and tower are warded. Also her reputation is such that few from the pirate towns of the wild coast would dare to approach her island.” The sorcerer replied.

“I’m a warrior and I’m skilled at getting into places others cannot, but I know nothing of magic. To rob a witch you’d need another witch or a sorcerer to slip past her traps. Find another thief.” Conan said starting to turn away.

“Not someone else, someone in addition to you. You’ll need the help of one who understands magic and battle.” Zula said standing up to his full six and a half feet and looking down at Conan.

“If such a man existed then, yes, I could do this thing.”

“Ha! I am such a man. But I’ve duties here that I cannot afford to leave to others. Plus I have enemies among the pirates of the wild coast.”

“Then we’ll wait until you can put down your duties here or locate another who can handle the magic your mother left behind.”

“There is another, she is standing next to you. Infidia is known as the Blade of Costa, but what most don’t know is that for the past year I’ve been teaching her magic! I will give her magical tools to help her in this task. The two of you, I believe, can accomplish this feat.”

“Bah, you intend to send a woman on a voyage to the wild coast and then out to an enchanted island full of magic and danger?” Conan scoffed. “She knows something of the way of the blade, I saw her fight tonight, but against real warriors in armor on the field of battle that little toy she carries would be useless.”

From Conan’s right Infidia made an indignant sound but was silenced at a glance from Drako.

“Fortunate then, that you are not sailing to battle Conan, but instead to raid my mother’s tower. Infidia has many talents between her skills and your strong right arm I am sure you’ll succeed.”

“What will you give me if I do this for you,” Conan asked?

At this Drako Zula sat down resting his chin on a closed fist as he looked at Conan. “There are plenty of treasures within the tower take what you will, saving only the matched grimoires in the highest room of the tower; those are mine. When you return to Costa I’ll give you 5,000 Hyrkanian gold crowns.”

Conan considered for a moment. “10,000 and whatever I take from the tower besides the books.”

“Agreed,” Zula said! “Meet Infidia down at my pier at dawn the day after tomorrow. You’ll set sail aboard the Ocean’s Bounty.”

As Conan left the hall of Captain Zula a cold breeze cut through the hot moist air sending a shiver down his spine. Conan looked around trying to spot the source of this omen and he suddenly felt as though his fate had somehow been sealed by this bargain with the Sorcerer Zula. “Crom,” Conan muttered and hunched his shoulders as he headed for the nearest inn.

The creak of the ropes and the snap of canvas overhead caused Conan to shift his weight from one knee to the other as he crouched, along with half a dozen sailors, playing dice. They were two weeks out from Costa and running before a quartering wind that negated the need for rowing. Conan had spent most of his time learning everything he could about seamanship from the crew. Sailing was foreign concept for land locked Cimmeria, and it held a fascination for Conan. Conan took the wineskin from the sailor next to him and after a long pull passed it on. The easy movement of the deck made Conan think this was a much better way to travel than his own two feet.

“Will ya look at that?!” One of the sailors grunted.

Conan glanced up and on the foredeck he spotted Infidia standing red hair loose and blowing in the wind. Infidia was the only female aboard the Ocean’s Bounty and she drew stares whenever she appeared on deck. Now she stood on one leg, ignoring the crew, with a curved fighting knife in each hand. Slowly and with a deliberate grace she moved forward slashing and twisting in a series of moves that tested both her balance and agility. This was an afternoon ritual she’d begun the second day out of Costa and was the principle reason for the time and location of the dice game. Conan found himself riveted by the sight of Infidia’s lithe form and wondered what it would feel like to have her squirming under him begging him to take her.

Later that night Conan stood at the ship’s port rail looking out over the sea. It was impossible to see the shore but Sarl, the ship’s captain, had told Conan that the closest lad was to the north. The creak of the deck plank alerted Conan and he turned his head in time to see Infidia move toward him.

“What do you see when you look out upon the water, Conan,” Infidia asked?

“Freedom, opportunity, and fame,” Conan replied.

“What of unknown dangers, misery, and loneliness,” Infidia asked moving to Conan’s side?

“The weak fear the unknown, shivering at the thought of what the strong will do. I fear no man.”

Infidia reached out and ran a hand lightly along the bicep of Conan’s arm. “Ah, to be so strong so sure of yourself; it is a gift granted only to a few. Because you are one of the strong, fear doesn’t touch you as it does others. Have you ever considered what it feels like to be weak?”

“I was not always strong.” Conan said turning and looking down into Infidia’s green eyes. “My village was raided when I was a boy and I was taken as a slave. For years I served my master until one day in the fighting pits I won my freedom. Fear and I are old friends.”

Infidia moved in closer to Conan and ran her hand over his muscular chest. “I too have known fear and weakness and have learned what is necessary to live life on my terms. You interest me Conan; come to my cabin and I’ll show you some of things I’ve learned.”

Conan grinned and followed the bold red head as she walked with an exaggerated hip movement toward the hatch leading below decks.

The stench from the harbor made Conan think of a midden heap even though Infidia apparently didn’t notice. This made Conan wonder if growing up in a coastal city had warped her sense of smell. It had taken three weeks of sailing to arrive at Scompiglio an infamous nest of pirates. They’d sailed in boldly and were met by the Scompiglio harbor master. After Captain Sarl paid a port fee, and then even more for supplies, his sailors set to work loading fresh water, dried beef, hard biscuits, beans, rice, and fruit aboard the Ocean’s Bounty. Captain Sarl had advised both Conan and Infidia against going ashore but the Cimmerian was tired of being stuck aboard such a small vessel and wanted to see the city. Infidia had been only slightly less eager to go exploring now however, Conan was now questioning this decision. The city was a jumble of falling down buildings and muddy streets with sewage flowing freely in shallow ditches toward the harbor. Scrawny dogs chased ragged children in the streets while beggars and whores called out for attention.

As they picked their way deeper into the warren of streets Conan’s sharp ears caught the sound of a woman crying for help. Without waiting to see if Infidia would follow Conan rushed down an ally in-time to spot three men assaulting a woman. From his angle Conan couldn’t really tell what the woman looked like with two of the men holding her down and the third blocking Conan’s view as he removed his breeches.

Conan glanced back at Infidia who’d just caught up with him. “In Cimmeria we put down men who rape woman as the dogs they are, yet in the ‘civilized’ lands they look the other way. Whose land is more barbaric?”

Then without another word Conan moved forward and after a moment’s pause Infidia followed. As she did she pulled out the black jack she’d used in Costa allowing it to drop to its full length as she moved forward. Just before Conan reached the man who’d successfully kicked off his trousers one of the men holding the woman down looked up.

“Look out!” Was all the rapist could get out before Conan was on them. Conan launched a double booted kick into the back of the half-naked man sending him flying into a pile of refuse further down the alley. The two men holding the woman let her go surging to their feet. They were to slow for the enraged barbarian and he caught the first man with an upper cut to the chin that stretched him out. The third man pulled out a foot long knife and backed away from Conan.

“I da na know who ya are stranger but ye just made a big mistake!” The would-be rapist said revealing a mouth full of rotting teeth.

“What mistake is that?” Conan asked, stepping forward and cracking the knuckles of his right hand with his left hand.

“We’re part o’Captain Burgun’s crew! The girl’s pa owes him money, we was told to take it out o’her as a lesson to her pa. This is business so ye’d best leave while ya can!”

“Duck!” Shouted Infidia.

Conan reacted instinctively crouching low as Infidia’s throwing knife passed over his head. Conan glanced over his shoulder and saw that the pirate he’d kicked had gotten up and retrieved a knife. He’d been attempting to sneak up on Conan when Infidia’s blade had taken him in the throat slightly off center. The pirate’s eyes bulged and he reached up with both hands to clutch at his throat. For a second he stared his eyes bulging and then he slowly sank to his knees blood spurting between his fingers in time with his rapidly beating heart.

When Conan turned back to the pirate he’d been confronting he saw that the man had made good use of the distraction to race away down the refuse cluttered alley. For a second Conan thought about chasing him but decided to let him go. The man just wasn’t worth the effort. By this time Infidia had come up and they looked down at the girl. She had dark hair and had pulled her ripped dress around her as she scooted up to huddle against the wall of the building behind her. When Conan realized that the girl couldn’t have been more than thirteen he felt a surge of anger and thought about chasing down the last pirate.

“Come on lass, we’ll not harm you.” Conan said, but the girl only whimpered in reply.

“Conan, why don’t you guard the alley and give me a second with the girl,” Infidia asked?

With a shake of his head Conan turned his back on them to give them some privacy. In a few minutes Infidia and the girl walked out of the alley with Conan stalking along behind glaring at anyone who looked twice at them. It was only a couple of blocks to the girl’s father’s home as soon as they entered there was a screech and her mother swooped her up in her arms. Her father turned out to be a small bald man who made candles in his shop with the families quarters directly above. He claimed that he didn’t owe Captain Burgun any money. He told Conan that the Captain expected him to pay a tax every week and when he refused Burgun’s men had roughed him up. He had no idea that they would attack his daughter next. With a shake of his head Conan left the small shop with Infidia following.
Shortly after leaving the candle-maker’s workshop Conan spotted a rundown looking building with a sign depicting a mug of ale above the door and headed toward it.

“Fighting is thirsty work! Let’s have a mug before we return to the Bounty!” Conan said glancing at Infidia.

Infidia was a bit reluctant to agree based more on the rundown looking condition of the pub than the idea of delaying their return. But seeing that Conan was already halfway there swallowed her protest and followed him. The tavern was lit dimly with a dirt floor covered in saw dust Conan looked around and saw an empty table in the corner of the room and headed over to it. After a minute Conan spotted a serving wench shouted for ale.

“Conan you’ve got a way with words.” Infidia said with a laugh hooking a stool with one booted foot and dragging it around so she could sit with her back to the wall.

Conan looked at Infidia curiously, “Men with the strength take what they desire. It is the way of the world.” Conan said misunderstanding Infidia’s comment. “The problem the candle maker has is that he’s not strong enough to protect his own. Bah, I need a drink!”

The thud of a pair of leather drinking cups striking the table could barely be heard over the buzz of conversation in the crowded room.

“Two copper bits for the beer lov, and if ye be looking for some ta eat we’ve got stew made of what ol’ Aba could find out back with bread. There’s a bird Aba’s been roasting if ye want that and I might be able to find ye some wrinkled apples but that’ll be extra.” The woman said.

Infidia looked over at her noting that she was wearing a smock that hid most of her curves and had bangs that obscured her face making it next to impossible to tell how old she was.

“Roast bird, apples, and bread for both of us,” Conan said. The woman bobbed her head and darted away.

“Perhaps I wanted stew,” Infidia said to Conan both irritated and amused that he’d ordered for her. They’d slept together every night for the past week and Infidia had loved the feel of Conan’s large muscular body, eight inch cock, and barbarian stamina, but she could do without the feeling that Conan thought she was now his possession. Infidia enjoyed a good tumble and with the enchanted necklace she wore she was assured that a pregnancy wouldn’t follow, but that didn’t mean she wanted to tie herself to a man.

Conan looked at her for a second, “do you want the stew?”

“No, of course not,” Infidia said with a grin.

Conan lifted his cup and muttered “women” before taking a drink of the nearly rancid beer.

By the time they’d finished eating Infidia had enough of the tavern and was ready to return to the ship. This town was a necessary stop for food and water before the next stage of the voyage but it was dirty, smelly, and had nothing of interest for Infidia. Conan had just returned from the midden and immediately shouted for ale and sat down.

“Aren’t you ready to return to the ship,” Infidia asked?

“Bah, we won’t be sailing until dawn; I heard that they have fighting pits and the Pirate Captains who run this town have captured slaves fighting most nights. Let’s go and see what passes for fighters here in the soft belly of the world.”

Infidia shook her head, “go to the fighting pits if you will, but I’m headed back down to the ship.”

Just then the door to the tavern opened and a crowd of rough looking men entered. At the front was the fellow Conan had last seen running down an alley fleeing for his life.

“There he is Imbalayo; he’s the one I told you about.”

Imbalayo stepped toward Conan his head nearly touching the low ceiling of the taproom.

“You must be new to Scompiglio if you think you can interfere with Captain Burgun’s men! Sometime in the fighting pits will be good for you I think!” Imbalayo said moving forward and drawing a long knife. “Surrender now and you might live.”

Conan threw back his head and laughed. “There are less than a dozen of you. Go back for a few more lads, I’ll wait.”

The pirates muttered darkly at this and additional knives were drawn while others adjusted their grip on the clubs they carried. This wasn’t the reaction they’d been expecting. While this was going on the patrons of the tavern moved out of the way to make room.

Imbalayo had reached Conan’s table. “On your feet barbarian,” he snarled.

Unexpectedly Conan lashed out with a booted foot hitting the edge of the table and flipping it into Imbalayo as he surged to his feet. Conan picked up the stool he’d been sitting on and leapt forward using it like a club hitting the closest pirate in the side of the head and then with a mighty back swing smashed a second pirate breaking the stool in the process. In an instant Conan was in the middle of the crowd of pirates where their numbers worked against them. Conan had ripped a club from the unconscious fingers of the first man he’d hit and with that in one hand and the shattered remains of the stool in his other hand he was like a lion among sheep.

Meanwhile Infidia moved along the edge of the brawl spinning her black jack in one hand and snapping it from time to time against the head of any pirate foolish enough to get close to her. In the space of a few seconds three buccaneers found themselves on the floor unconscious.

With a roar Imbalayo charged Conan from behind wrapping his arms around Conan in a great bear hug. The pirate in front of Conan tried to strike Conan in the stomach but Conan lifted his legs off the ground and drove the heels of both booted feet into the rogue. The force of the blow sent the pirate reeling backward into two of his fellows and all three tumbled to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs. The energy from the kick also caused Imbalayo to stumble a step or two back yet somehow he kept his grip on Conan and continued to squeeze Conan in a monstrous bear hug.

Seeing her opportunity Infidia slid around behind Imbalayo and hit him in the back of the head with her black jack as hard as she could. Imbalayo grunted but hung onto Conan, amazed, Infidia gripped the black jack with both hands and this time stepped into her swing putting hips and back into it. Infidia smashed the black jack into the side of Imbalayo’s head and for a second she feared that it had no effect then Imbalayo slowly released Conan and slid to the floor. Conan didn’t waste any time, he charged the remaining pirates and in seconds they joined their shipmates on the floor.

Breathing deeply, drenched in sweat, muscles bulging with barbaric power, and blood running from a cut over one eye Conan was the image of the conquering warrior. His steely gaze swept the room looking for more threats. None of the pirate scum would meet Conan’s eye so he wiped the blood clear with one hand and looked at Infidia.

“An entertaining evening lass, but we’d best be going.”

“Lead the way, noble sir.” Infidia said with a slightly mocking laugh, her cheeks red and bosom heaving from the excitement.

The sun was rising in a grey predawn as the Ocean’s Bounty raced along. It had been a week since they’d restocked at the port of Scompiglio and Conan remembered the fight and the night that followed fondly. He and Infidia had returned to the ship and to Conan’s cabin and had spent the rest of the night in the unique duel that men and women have been practicing since the dawn of time. The fight had added passion to their love making and Conan had relished every sensation as he drove his hard cock into Infidia’s soft warm pussy.

For the last two days Conan had dedicated even more time to learning as much seamanship as he could focusing now on navigating and steering the ship. Conan discovered that there were always things to do aboard the ship and he was happy to pitch-in it made the hours at sea go by faster. His enthusiasm quickly won the approval of the crew and they became eager to share their knowledge with him. They’d been sailing directly south and into the depth of the sea for the past three days and as sun came up Conan surveyed the horizon. There still wasn’t any sign of this island that they were supposed to raid for Captain Zula.

Conan glanced over to the foredeck where Infidia practiced with her weapons just as she did every morning and afternoon. She moved with the grace of a hunting tiger and in her tight fighting leathers her body was on full display. Conan felt a stirring in his loins and wondered how Infidia felt about mid-day coupling.

Around noon on the next day the lookout in the crow’s nest atop the main mast had spotted the island of the Sea Witch Anguis Zula. It had taken several hours to get close enough to the island to drop anchor so there wasn’t much sunlight left.

“Captain Sarl, put down a boat. I plan to go ashore as soon as possible.” Conan said.

“Conan, I’ve got six volunteers to row you ashore and help you get to the witch’s tower. But I’d suggest waiting until morning. This island has an evil reputation. I know Captain Zula has given you the mission but night is the time of witches’ day is the time of warriors’.”

While the Captain and Conan had been talking Infidia joined them. She was wearing her fighting leathers and a black cloak. She also had a small bag slung from her belt opposite her rapier. She’d braided her long red hair and tied it back with a strip of leather.

“The night may be a time for witches’ but it’s also a time for thieves’. Are you ready Conan?” Infidia asked with a challenge in her tone.

Conan scowled at the Captain impatient to get started. “Put down the boat Captain.” Conan growled and stalked to his cabin to collect his gear.

The sun was just a finger’s width above the horizon by the time they were pulling the longboat up onto the beach. One of the sailors, named Lar, pulled a line from the bow of the boat and ran it up to a tree near the water’s edge where he secured the boat.

Lar turned to Conan and said, “Scar and Alic will stay here with the boat. The rest of us will come with you if yer willing to have us?”

Conan slapped Lar on the shoulder looking at the three other sailors all armed with cutlasses, long knives, and clubs. “I’m glad to have you and your bullyboys with us but once we reach the tower it’ll be just Infidia and me.”

Infidia looked at Conan again irritated that he just assumed that she was okay with the sailors accompanying them. She was sure that they knew nothing of stealth and that there were dangers on this island they could avoid by being unheard and unseen.

Infidia felt a tingle run through her as she set foot on the island’s rocky shore. She didn’t say anything but Infidia knew that they had just crossed a ward. For a second she scanned the tree line looking for some indication that the ward had activated some hostile magic. When nothing happened she breathed a sigh of relief.

Her relief was short lived when Lar pulled out his cutlass and started chopping his way into the jungle headed toward the tower. This lasted for about two minutes before Conan ordered the sailor to put his cutlass away. It was more difficult to push through the underbrush but it was much quieter. They headed inland with two sailors in front and two bringing up the rear. Infidia learned that the other sailor with Lar in front was called Balik, and the two bringing up the rear were Saul and Trev. Within minutes they were in the gloomy undergrowth which only got darker as the sun continued to set.

They managed to walk for almost twenty minutes before Conan called a halt. It was now to dark to see properly. However Lar proved resourceful and had a solution he reached into a pack he’d brought and pulled out a pair of lanterns. With a few sharp strokes of his flint against the edge of his poniard the wick caught flame. With one lantern held by the second sailor in line and one held by the second to last sailor they resumed their trek.
Abruptly Conan held up a hand, “quite” he hissed.

Infidia now cursing the lanterns, since the light spoiled her night vision, closed her eyes and focused on listening. With her left hand she reached into a pouch that held a small device that looked like a pebble which she thought of as a flash-bang. With her other hand she gripped the hilt of a throwing knife.

With a loud inhuman howl first from the left then the right several bodies crashed through the jungle. Infidia spun to her left and opened her eyes spotting three large creatures; the first had the great hairy body of an Ape, the second had the body of a bear, and the third the body of a large wolf standing on two legs. Each of the monsters had the head of man, a man whose face was twisted with fury and insanity!

Infidia threw the flash-bang with a flick of her left hand and closed her eyes. It hit the ape-man in chest filling the night with an explosion of noise and light. Infidia opened her eyes and knew that for a second that the attackers would be blinded so she used the time to throw her knife with all the strength she could generate by stepping into the throw and using perfect form. The knife struck the forehead of the wolf-man sinking up to its hilt with a meaty thunk. The two sailors, Saul and Trev, who’d brought up the rear, moved forward drawing their weapons and dropping the lantern in the process. Trev swung his cutlass with all of his strength into the side of the ape-man. The beast howled and grabbed Trev’s head with both of its hands and with a sharp twisting movement broke his neck.

The Saul brought his cutlass down on the arm of the ape-man and cut cleanly though it causing the beast to throw back its head and howl in agony. Meanwhile Infidia drew her rapier with her right hand and another throwing knife with her left hand. The bear-man ignored her and leapt toward Conan who was armed with a broad sword and a shield but was facing another ape-man who’d attacked their band from the opposite side. Infidia took a long step and then lunged with full extension. Her sword shot forward with all of her weight behind the point. Her blade took the bear-man in the side and sank in nearly eight inches before Infidia jumped back.

The bear-man turned to face her with a roar of pain and Infidia threw her second knife. But this time it bounced off the hide of the monster since it had been moving when she threw. Wary of getting too close Infidia lunged again only this time aiming for one of the monsters legs and then again jumping back out of range of its claws. There was a roar behind her and Infidia risked a quick glance over her shoulder. The sailor, Saul, who’d been fighting the ape-man had managed to cut one of the monsters legs out from under it. Unable to keep its balance it fell onto its side with a scream which Saul silenced it by hacking deeply into its throat.

The momentary distraction had been a mistake and Infidia felt her side explode in pain as she rolled with the force of the blow. She came to her feet feeling bruised as the bear-man moved toward her. Suddenly Conan was behind it and with a mighty swing of his sword took its head cleanly from its shoulders.

Looking around Infidia saw four of the great monsters on the ground to the right of their group. Three of them showed the signs of Conan’s great sword hacking limbs from bodies and heads from necks. The fourth had Lar’s cutlass buried in its skull. Unfortunately the sailor who’d been carrying the lantern was on his back his chest caved in and as Infidia watched he coughed up a lung full of blood and then went still.

“I knew this island was cursed” Saul said and spat to one side.

“By Crom, I’d wager that these beasts were once men. The Sea Witch’s magic must have warped their bodies and twisted their minds. We have done them a favor by ending them.”

“Aye, Conan that we have; but what now? Do we continue to the tower or return to the boat and wait for light?” Lar asked wrenching his sword from the cloven head of the beast he’d killed.

“On lads tonight is an ill night and the sooner this ill task is done the better.”

“Aren’t we forgetting something,” Infidia asked?

When Conan looked at her she pointed to the fallen sailors. “We should move them away from the slain and at least lay them out respectfully and cover them with what we can.”

Reluctantly Conan agreed and they quickly separated the bodies of the two sailors from their fallen foes and laid them out. They didn’t have the tools to dig a proper grave but used the cutlass’s from the fallen sailors. The hole was shallow and they were only able to cover Trev and Balik with a thin layer of dirt but given the situation it was the best they could do. By the time they were moving again the moon was high in the sky providing enough light to see without having to use the lanterns. The ground started to climb and they soon came to the top of a small hill where the trees had thinned enough for them to see the tower of the Sea Witch. It stood tall and dark and around the base of the tower was a circular wall standing nearly thirty feet in height. From the hill top Conan could see into the walled area and noticed that there were at least a dozen buildings in addition to the tower. Obviously the Sea Witch at some point had had some loyal servants who’d lived with her. Conan wondered if these servants were the creatures they’d just fought or if they’d been captives twisted by the witch’s magic.

Eager to finish the task at hand they left the hill and traveled as rapidly as they could through the jungle to the walled compound. Picking a direction at random they started walking around the wall and in a few minutes they found a gate. Instead of being locked it had been left open which made Conan uneasy. Wary of a trap Conan moved in first followed ten heart beats later by Infidia, then Lar, and lastly by Saul.

Between the buildings Conan could see the base of the tower but some instinct caused him to hold back. He crouched next to one of the buildings with his three companions in a silent line behind him. Conan felt a weird fluttering in the air and the hair on his arms stood up. Something odd was going on here only he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what.

Bang — the sound of the gate slamming shut behind him caused Conan two whirl around.

“Crom! It’s a trap!”

No sooner had he spoke than a moan came from the shadows. Moving into the light a man shuffled. His body was pale and even from this distance Conan could smell the stench of corruption. As he watched other shadows shuffled forward the stench and the sight of decay was unmistakable.

“By Crom, their already dead! Quick back to the gate!” Conan shouted drawing his great broad sword and tightening the straps of his shield on his arm.

“Conan they’re behind us as well!” Lar said looking wildly around for an avenue to escape.

“I’ve got something that will take care of these creatures just keep them off me for a few minutes.” Infidia said.
With that she pulled out a large chunk of chalk and started drawing symbols on the cobble stones around her. At the same time she started chanting. The three men spread out forming a semi-circle around her using the wall of the building behind them to protect one side.

With a shout Conan jumped forward and smashed the edge of his shield into the first zombie and before it could stumble back he cut its legs out from under it. Using his own momentum Conan cut to his right slashing across another zombie’s guts, disemboweling it with no noticeable effect. Conan ducked behind his shield as the undead creature smashed a fist down with inhuman force. The wooden shield edged and banded with iron and covered in iron rivets cracked under the force of the zombies strike. Conan stumbled back dropping to a knee but with a fierce cry he slashed his blade a foot above and parallel to the ground. His arm shivered as the sharp steel cut through both of the zombies legs causing it to topple. Conan surged to his feet and with a great swing took the creature’s head off.

Conan with a moments respite looked back in time to see two zombies drag Saul down ripping his throat open in a fountain of blood. Lar stood on Conan’s other side ducking and slashing but without a shield he was at a disadvantage when it came to defending himself from the zombies.

“Woman, whatever you’re doing, by Crom’s left ball, do it quickly!”

Then Conan smashed a Zombie threatening Lar with his shield causing it to stumble back and fall over. With a shout and a mighty overhand blow Conan split another zombie cutting it vertically from shoulder to crotch spilling its puss and worm filled innards to the street. Conan’s eyes blazed as he fought with the fury of his Cimmerian ancestors and the street echoed with his battle cries. Soon the zombies were nearly exclusively focused on dragging down this lion in human form.

Abruptly there was a clap of thunder and a white light blazed as bright as the sun. The zombies shrank back from the light and their moans turned to cries of pain as their flesh started to melt from their bones. Conan standing in the midst of a ring of fallen zombies, covered in ichor, chest heaving, watched in amazement as his foes melted under the light. Conan looked down at his arm, layered with the puss of fallen zombies, and saw that the puss turned to vapor even as he watched. In seconds all that remained of several dozen zombies where the piles of rotting clothes they’d been wearing.

Conan glanced back at Infidia and saw her standing with both arms above her head and between her outstretched hands a ball of glowing white energy burned. Conan had to look away it was so bright and then without any warning the ball vanished and the world around Conan returned to its normal inky darkness. As it did Infidia slumped to the ground in exhaustion. Conan moved quickly to her side.

“What kind of magic have you wrought, woman?” Conan asked standing over her. Infidia looked up at Conan and then pulled herself to her feet with a hand from Conan.

“Drako Zula knew that his mother practiced necromancy. He gave me a glass sphere and the spell needed to activate it. Under the light of the sphere no zombie can survive. I just hadn’t realized that it would take so long to activate the spell. How are the others?”

Conan looked around Saul was lying in a pool of his own blood his head had been wrenched from his shoulders at some point during the zombies attack. Lar was also down and not moving. Conan got up and went to check on Lar but before he got to within a step of him Conan saw that Lar’s chest had been ripped open and his heart pulled out. Conan turned back to Infidia and shook his head.

“They’re both dead. We need to move to a place where we can rest before we attempt the tower.”

Infidia pointed to the doorway of the building they’d been using to protect their backs during the zombie attack.
“This building seems as good as any.”

Conan nodded and moved on silent feet to the door which was made of wood. He leaned back and kicked the door in with one mighty stomp. The wood, already somewhat decayed, shattered and Conan moved into the building. Infidia followed silently her rapier out and all of her senses alert. The building turned out to be some kind of barracks and was empty. Infidia found Conan looking around in the main room for possible threats.

“Let’s see if we can find a way onto the roof. I’d like to look at the tower without having a zombie pawing at me.”

It took them some time but at last they found a ladder leading to a trapdoor that opened onto the flat roof of the barracks. From here Infidia could see that the tower was only a few hundred yards from the building where they’d taken shelter. She also realized that it was much taller than she’d thought when they viewed it from the hillside.

“The prize is in sight.” Conan growled handing Infidia a water bottle. Infidia nodded her thanks and drank.

“That tower is bound to be filled with traps. Both magical and mundane, Zula gave me a spell that will allow me to magically reconnoiter the tower before we attempt it in person.”

“More magic,” Conan growled.

“Conan the best way to defeat magic is with magic of our own. Besides this spell will make me invisible to eye, I’ll travel to the tower in spirit and spy out the traps. Then when we attempt it we’ll know what we’re facing.”

“You may know magic and magical traps but do you have a thief’s skill? Can you spot a trip wire, a loose step, or a pressure plate?”

Infidia shrugged, “how difficult can it be? Besides unless you’d like to accompany me this is the best we can do.”

Conan turned away and went to the trap door. He drew out his dagger and wedged it into the door jamming it so that it wouldn’t open. He then returned to glare at Infidia.

“Use your spell woman, we will both go and spy out the secrets of the tower.”

“Conan you’re sure? Magic is not something for the unwary, I could use your help spotting traps but this requires courage of a different kind.”

“My mind is made up so get on with it lass.” Conan said folding his muscular arms across his chest.

With that Infidia sat down cross legged and pulled another crystal out of the pouch she’d kept at her side. She placed it on the ground in front of her and then looked up at Conan.

“Sit down and take my hands,” Infidia said holding her hands out.

Conan sat cross legged with their knees almost touching and grasped her hands. For a moment his blue eyes locked onto her green eyes and then she closed them and started chanting. After a few seconds the crystal started to glow with a soft blue-white light and as it did Conan found himself getting sleepy. Unable to keep his eyes open he relaxed allowing them to close. Almost at once he felt a strange pulling, like a strong breeze pushing at him, as he did he realized that Infidia wasn’t chanting any more.

“Ha, your spell didn’t work!” Conan said standing up.

“Are you sure?”

Conan looked down and felt shocked to see his body sitting as still as a statue holding Infidia’s hands. The dark world around then had changed to one lit with a dim source-less grey light.

“Crom! What have you done?” Conan swore looking at Infidia. For the first time he realized that when he looked at her she glowed with a soft silvery white light and he could see through her.

“I’ve done just what I said I’d do. We’re now in our spirit forms we can cross to the tower and discover its secrets without risking our bodies. Before we go I need to warn you, we can only be apart from our bodies for a limited time or they will die. Also I’ve only got the one crystal so this is our only chance to do this.”

“Now you give me the warning,” Conan muttered.

Infidia flew up and over the side of the building and dove toward the base of the tower. With another oath to Crom Conan followed catching her as she paused to examine the tower’s door.

“Well lass what are you waiting for we’re ghosts! Getting through this door should be simple.”

“Not so simple when the door is warded.” Infidia said pointing to a faintly glowing symbol above the door. “It is designed to keep spirits out, so we won’t be able to pass through the door or the wall. I fear we’ll have to go back and face this challenge in the flesh. I only need to mar a line of the ward to ruin it.” Infidia mused. “But that won’t help because I must be in my physical body to do it.”

At this Conan grunted and looked around. “Are you sure this is the only way in?”

“Of course not, let’s circle the tower and see if there is another door!”

In a few seconds they’d flown all the way around the tower but hadn’t found another door. However Conan spotted a window high up just below the top of the tower.

“What about that window?” He asked pointing up.

Infidia looked up, “it’s no use, the blocks are rough enough to offer places to grip but that’s over two hundred feet straight up. I’m an average climber at best, but even if I was a great climber I’m not strong enough to make it that far!”

“You won’t have to make the climb. Together we’ll search out the magical traps and then I’ll return in my body. There are cliffs in Cimmeria twice as high this will hardly be a challenge. I’ll avoid both the magical and physical traps grab the spell books and be out before you know it.”

With that he flew straight up heading for the window. With a curse Infidia flew up after him catching up to him as Conan hovered outside the window. The glass was covered in dust and dirt preventing them from seeing into the room beyond.

“Do you see any traps?”

“Listen to me, Conan, this is a bad idea. Even if you can make the climb you’ll need me to break any spells or wards. We’ll be better off returning in our bodies and taking this slowly and carefully.”

“Fortune favors the bold,” Conan said and dove through the window.

As soon as he did Infidia saw a dim flash of light through the grime on the window and she moved back ducking away from the spell. After a second, when nothing else happened, she slowly moved up to the window. There were no wards or glyphs in sight so very slowly she eased into the window cautiously pushing her face through it just far enough to see into the chamber. As soon as she did her breath (if she’d had any) caught. There was a ward wrought into the floor, in a great circle, covering perhaps eighty percent of the room. Conan and flown in through the window spied the stand in the center of the room where a pair of books bound in leather rested. He’d obviously flown toward the spell books and when he’d crossed the ward it had activated trapping him. Infidia slide the rest of the way into the room careful not to get too close to the ward.

Conan flew toward the edge of the ward and it flared with a blue-white light and Conan bounced back.

“What manner of trap is this?” He demanded spotting Infidia.

“A clever one, Cimmerian,” Infidia said. “The entire tower is warded to prevent a spirit from entering except at the window. Then when a spirit enters the window the ward traps it.” She said pausing to consider the ward. “Spirits are a form of energy to necromancers. I’d wager that the Sea Witch took the spirits trapped in this room and used them as a source of power for her magic.”

“Well break the spell! Once I’m free there is nothing stopping me from scaling the wall and snatching the books.”

“That’s what makes the trap so clever. I can’t break it in spirit form I need my body to break the spell. But I’m not strong enough to climb the tower and you’ve only got a limited amount of time before your body dies. You’ve got perhaps half of a day, or less, and then you won’t have a body to return too. You’ll be a ghost in truth. You were a fool to blindly rush in without waiting for me to check for traps.”

At this Conan was silent for several seconds. “By Crom you’re right, I should have let you look first. What’s done is done, is there nothing you can think of to solve this puzzle? Can you return to your body and then go to the Ocean’s Bounty and bring back more sailors? There are several strong climbers among the crew.” Conan said in a much subdued voice.

“I could try, but I doubt I’d make it to the ship and back before your time is up. And there are still beasts in the jungle and perhaps other traps here. If I’m ambushed alone on my way back to the ship you will surely die,” Infidia said.

“There is another option but neither of us will like it.”

“If there’s a way out of this trap, likes or dislikes be damned. Get to it woman!” Conan growled prowling the edge of the ward.

“Just remember you brought this on both of us.” Infidia said gliding out the window and then down toward the rooftop where their bodies lay.

The flight across several hundred yards of open space flashed by and then Infidia was hovering above the place where both their physical forms sat frozen within the spell. Feeling nervous about what she planned Infidia moved to hoover above and slightly behind Conan’s body. She felt slightly repulsed at the thought of what she was about to attempt. Very reluctantly she moved forward pushing her spirit into Conan’s coarse flesh. Despite being annoyed at times by Conan’s masculine attitude he was a good man and she had no desire to take, even for a short time, control of his body. It was large, crude, and smelled like a man. With an astral sigh Infidia focused on the task she’d set herself. There were spells designed for possession and others designed for astral projection what Infidia intended to do was use the one to enable the other. Normally this wouldn’t be possible because Conan’s spirit within his own flesh would easily force her out. But at the moment his body sat empty with no spirit to guide or protect it. Slowly and carefully she descended into Conan’s body.

She was surrounded by his flesh but something was wrong, she wasn’t merging with it. Instead it was ill fitting and wrong, Infidia knew that she could easily pull her spirit up and out of Conan’s skin. She needed to bond to it if she were to succeed. Slowly Infidia forced Conan’s eyes to open. Looking out with his physical eyes and her astral ones at the same time gave her a strange layered vista.

Conan’s body was still tightly gripping her body’s hands and through her astral sight Infida saw that the power from the crystal was flowing up and into her body and then through her hands into Conan. Unsure what would happen if she forced Conan’s body to let go Infidia decided it was their only chance. She felt a surge of excitement. If she could force Conan to release her hands, she suddenly felt sure, it would break the spell and if she was right it would allow her spirit to bond with Conan’s body. Then she could climb the tower free Conan’s spirit, steal the spell books, and return to the tower. If the spell was still working in theory all she’d have to do was sit down and grip her body’s hands and she would be able to abandon Conan’s body and return to her own.

Settling on this plan Infidia concentrated with every fiber of her being. Infidia forced her astral hand down through Conan’s physical arm and into his hand pretending that it was just an extra-long pair of gloves she was trying on. Then she focused on her other hand repeating the process until she could feel Conan’s fingers as they clutched her body’s fingers. Next Infida forced one astral leg and then the other down Conan’s body and into his legs, as though they were the legs to a particularly tight pair of trousers, until she could feel Conan’s toes which she wiggled experimentally. Lastly, she forced her head more fully into Conan’s until she could hear the chirp of a cricket through Conan’s ears and taste the dried beef remaining on Conan’s tongue from their hurriedly consumed meal. With one last surge of concentration Infidia forced Conan’s fingers to release her body’s fingers.

“Aghh, . . …”

The sound escaped Conan’s lips as Infidia felt a surge of power like lighting arc through her when she forced Conan’s fingers free. For a second agony blazed along her nerves and then she toppled over backward, Infidia lay looking up at the stars blinking for several seconds and slowly became aware that the stars were much clearer and brighter than they normally were. She slowly sat up and then reached up to touch her throbbing forehead and froze at the sight of the hand at the end of her arm. The hand was massive easily twice the size her hand was supposed to be. With a feeling of unreality Infidia reached down to touch her chest feeling the well-defined shape of Conan’s powerful pectoral muscles instead of the soft fleshy mounds of her breasts. Next still with a sense of disbelief Infidia reached between her legs and felt the mighty cod-piece that housed Conan’s cock. When her penis twitched in response to her fumbling Infidia threw back her head and laughed with Conan’s hearty roar. She’d done it!

As disgusting as this mountain of flesh was, Infidia could only imagine what Conan would say when he learned that she’d borrowed it. Slowly and carefully Infidia stood up swaying for a second as she allowed her new body to find its natural balance. She glanced back at her body and was suddenly alarmed. It now lay flat on its back with the crystal cracked and dark at its feet. Infidia moved forward stumbling at the difference in stride and the awkward feeling of the unfamiliar organ between her legs.

“Gods! How does Conan walk with this thing constantly getting in the way,” she muttered.

Infidia knelt next to her body and was relieved see her chest rise and fall with a steady rhythmic breathing. Next Infidia glanced down at the crystal alarmed at its dark and cracked condition. Well this would be a complication. Without it she wasn’t sure how she would separate her astral self from Conan’s husk. After a few seconds she decided it was a problem to consider later. At the moment she had a tower to scale, a ward to break, and a pair of books to steal.

Infidia spent the next thirty minutes bending, stretching, and jumping she even drew Conan’s broad sword and went through a series of cuts, slashes, and lunges attempting to force herself to become comfortable in her new skin. She was amazed at how small everything around the roof seemed including her former body. She was also surprised by how light Conan’s sword and shield felt as she practiced with them and at the amount of power she could generate with her arms and shoulders. However much she moved she remained startled by how often the ungainly piece of meat between her legs got in her way. It simply wouldn’t allow Infidia to move in certain ways and through simple discomfort forced her to adjust her stance and stride. Although Conan’s chest was much larger than hers it was solid muscle and Infidia found herself missing the natural sway and movement of her breasts as she practiced a lunge or twisted into a parry. Well it was certainly educational to understand the limitations of the male form, Infidia thought. At last feeling like she would be able to defend herself if she had too and like she wouldn’t fall off the side of the tower due to residual clumsiness, Infidia put Conan’s weapons away.

Infidia went to the trap door and pulled Conan’s dagger out with an easy jerk. In a matter of seconds she’d descended the ladder and crossed the distance to the base of the tower. Infidia had learned many skills over the last few years, fighting and spell casting were only two of them. She knew how to climb and also knew her limits; however the limits of Conan’s body were unknown to Infidia. Still he’d seemed confident in his ability to do this. Infidia started to climb, taking it slowly because she was still getting used to the length of Conan’s arms and legs. Hand grips that would have been beyond her reach were now accessible and when a brick crumbled under her booted foot Infidia found herself dangling by one hand. Instead of being scared she was thrilled at how easily her arm was able to support her full weight! Using the power of her arm alone Infidia pulled herself up reaching for the next hold. Infidia was shocked to discover that she was strong enough to climb the tower without using her legs at all! She continued to climb this way for a few more feet before her logical mind prevailed over the thrill that being this strong gave her. So after a brief pause Infidia continued up the tower slowly and carefully, and was astonished when she realized how high she’d climbed and that she wasn’t feeling the effects of fatigue. Conan hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d said that this was a climb he could easily do, soon she was next to the window. Infidia felt like she was capable of climbing to this height and much farther if she’d had the need. It was an exhilarating moment.

For a second Infidia thought about crashing through the window in an instant of glass and violence but then shook her head. Where had such an idea come from? She drew Conan’s dagger and worked the tip into the place where the left and right panes of glass joined in the center. When Infidia had been inside the room she’d noted that there was a latch holding them together. By levering the latch up she was able to pry first one and then the other side of the window open. Once the window was open Infidia moved cautiously into the room.

There was a soft glow from the ward and she could make out the indistinct distortion in the air. Obviously the distortion was the spirit trapped within the ward. When she was fully in the room the spirit became agitated and crashed into the side of the ward several times causing it to flare. Infidia decided to wait and seated herself on the window ledge resting her chin on her closed fist. After several minutes when the ward showed no sign of weakening the spirit slowed and then stopped moving. Instead it hovered in front of Infidia on the other side of the ward.

“Conan, remember I told you that I couldn’t make the climb in my body? I also told you that there was only one way that I could think of to get you out of there? I said you wouldn’t like it and you said that it didn’t matter? Well this is the only way I could think of. I needed a body that was strong enough to make the climb and yours was the only one around. When I break the ward holding you, you need to return to the rooftop where my body is laying helpless and undefended. I’ll get the books and meet you there as soon as possible. We’ll use the crystal to put our spirits back into our rightful bodies and pretend this whole thing never happened.”

When Infidia finished her speech she waited for Conan to move. Instead he floated there watching her. With a sigh Infidia moved to the edge of the ward and then slowly chanting the words that Zula had taught her Infidia took Conan’s knife and scraped it across the ward defacing it. There was a crackly of energy and Infidia jerked her hand back surprised at the sudden pain. She looked down at Conan’s large callused hand and didn’t see any damage but it was tingling like it had gone to sleep and now the blood was flowing into it again. By the time she looked up she saw Conan’s spirit descending into her body. She felt a chill as the spirit passed through but that was all. Infidia slowly stood up only to find Conan had circled back around and passed through her again. After his third attempt Infidia folded her mighty arms and glared at Conan’s spirit.

“Stop that, it won’t work and it tickles.” Infidia growled in Conan's masculine voice.

Conan’s spirit slowed and then came to a stop floating in front of her. With a glare Infidia waved her hand at the spirit.

“Listen to me Conan! You can stay here and die or you can go back to the rooftop and wait for me. Go on, do what I told you too, you’re just wasting time attempting to take this body back without the help of magic.” When Conan’s spirit didn’t move Infidia shrugged.

“Suit yourself — die if you want too!”

At that the spirit slowly and reluctantly moved away and then darted out through the window. Alone at last Infidia shook her head, “stupid barbarian.” She moved carefully through the room looking for physical or magical traps. Infidia spotted another magical trap before she was half way across the room and then at the last moment a trip wire cleverly hidden. Infidia lifted the books and put them into the sack that Conan had carried for this purpose. As she retraced her steps Infidia spotted a small chest along one wall. With a sudden inspiration she moved over to it and when she opened it discovered that it was filled with coins and gems. Infidia pulled out the rope that Conan had looped several times around his waist, before he’d left the ship, and ran one end through a set of handles on the chest. She then tied it off and carried the chest to the window. The chest was heavy easily fifty or sixty pounds but in Conan’s body it felt ridiculously light. Infidia leaned out and carefully using the rope lowered the chest to the ground below. Once the chest was on the ground Infidia tossed the rope out and then climbed carefully out the window.

Even though going down was easier and faster she knew that the danger here was the temptation to rush. So Infidia concentrated on keeping her balance and finding good hand and foot holds as she moved carefully to the ground. Once on the ground Infidia lifted the chest to her shoulder and headed back to the rooftop where Conan would be angrily waiting. The thought of Conan’s annoyance made Infidia smile as she made her way to the roof.

Infidia poked her head through the trapdoor and then set the chest to one side. She’d just climbed to her feet when there was a rush in the darkness and something hit the side of her head. Infidia tried to roll with the blow, as she’d been trained to do, but her body didn’t respond as smoothly as it should have and instead she stumbled to one side. As the shadow closed in on Infidia again she was able to get an arm up blocking the blow from the black jack and grabbed the wrist of the girl swinging it. Then with a twist of her hips Infidia threw the girl to the ground and straddled her pinning her hands above her head.

“You witch you did this on purpose!” Conan spat with Infidia’s voice.

“Oh, yes you’ve found me out, I planned the whole thing. First I invited you to come along on my astral reconnaissance, and then I tricked you into flying through that window so that I could cleverly rescue you by forcing my spirit into your body! You may have my body Conan but when I was in it I wasn’t a fool, you shouldn’t be one either!”

At this Conan in Infidia’s body slumped. Seeing that the fight had gone out of Conan for now Infidia released her hands and sat back still not getting off the girl.

“What happened? I told you to come back here and wait for me.”

“That’s what I did! Or what I tried to do, …” Conan shook his head in frustration.

“I flew back to the roof and saw your body lying here with the crystal cold and dark at your feet. As I got closer I started to feel a pulling sensation. It was like standing in a stream with the current pushing against your body trying to pull you downstream. The closer I got the stronger the current became. I tried to fight it but by that time it was impossible. I was dragged into your body and then everything just sort of faded out. There was a sudden shock and then I sat up and opened my eyes. That’s when I found myself in your body by Crom!! The body of a woman!” Conan said and rocked his hips trying to throw Infidia off.

For a moment Infida considered staying where she was and showing Conan what it was like to be the smaller weaker person. Instead she decided not to antagonize Conan, as satisfying as it might be, they needed to work together. Infidia climbed to her feet and offered a hand to pull Conan up however Conan batted it away and got clumsily to his feet. He’d clearly not gotten used to her body yet.

Infidia noticed that the sun was now just above the horizon and the darkness had turned to a grey predawn. She walked over to where the crystal lay, cracked and dark, the stone beneath it burned by the power of the spell. She reached down with one hand and felt the crystal crumble to powder in her unfamiliar grip.

“How will we change back?” Conan asked in her high sweet voice.

“By completing the mission; Drako Zula gave me that crystal he’s sure to have another. We’ll use a fresh one to change back.”

“Are you saying that we’ll have to travel all the way back to Costa like this?” Conan gestured down at his body with one hand.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” Infidia growled. “I don’t know the magic necessary to undo this, but I’m sure Zula will have an answer.”

“The crew will never believe that we have exchanged bodies and if they do it will be even worse.” Conan said thinking out loud and Infidia nodded in agreement.

“They might believe us and see this as an opportunity to take the books and the treasure and dump us in the ocean. If they talk and others hear of this my enemies will be lining up to attack us. They’ll see this as an opportunity for vengeance.” Conan said. “And even if we somehow survive if word of my being trapped in the body of a woman gets out I’ll never be taken seriously as a warrior again. Any deeds of renown I do will be overshadowed by the story that I was once a woman.” Conan exclaimed the horror of the situation dawning on him.

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone! Or by Crom I’ll rip out your tongue!” Conan said unbeknownst to him as his tirade continued it had gotten higher and higher pitched until it ended in a shrill shriek that set Infidia’s teeth on edge.

“Calm down Conan, you’re letting your woman’s passion run away with you. I agree it would be for the best if we pretend to be each other. You’re known as a mighty warrior no one challenges you because of your fearsome reputation. I also agree that if your enemies find out that I, a mere woman, occupy your body and you are now in the body of a woman; well let’s just say our chances for survival aren’t good.” Infidia said. At this Conan scowled but agreed.

“Enough talking the sooner we’re off this cursed island the better!” Conan said.

Conan trudged through the jungle glancing up in irritation from time to time at Infidia walking in front of her. She felt humiliated at being forced to follow instead of leading and she’d never appreciated how easy it was for her in her natural body to glide through the jungle. Conan had insisted on helping carry something from the tower and had taken the large leather bound spell books and slung the bag they were in over one shoulder. After two hours of trudging through the jungle Conan wanted nothing more than to hand the bag with the books back to Infidia. But his Cimmerian pride wouldn’t let him. Struggling to keep up with sweat running down his back, and disconcertingly between his breasts, made Conan realize, again, just how much weaker she now was.

It appeared that this would be a lesson she’d have to learn several times. When they’d arrived at the gate and found it closed and magically locked Infidia had suggested they take a set of stairs to the top of the wall and from there climb down using the rope Conan had brought. Conan had agreed and had suggested that Infidia go down first and then she’d lower the treasure chest and follow. Infidia had laughed and said that lowering the treasure chest was a man’s job and Conan needed to get her pretty little ass down the rope. When Conan angrily protested Infidia had simply handed Conan the treasure chest. Conan held it for a few seconds and realized that Infidia was right the thing was just too damn heavy, by Crom! Feeling embarrassed Conan had slid down the rope having to use her legs more than her arms to control her descent.

Now with Infidia in the lead carrying the chest on one shoulder while cutting a path through the jungle, and Conan struggling to keep up, Conan had to admit that she was far weaker than she’d been only a few hours ago. Shortly before the sun reached its zenith they broke through the tree line to find the beach in front of them and the ship off to the left. The longboat was waiting where they’d left it. Infidia had brought them out of the jungle only a few hundred yards to the right of the boat, a pretty good feat of navigation in the dense jungle, Conan reluctantly admitted to herself. In seconds the two remaining sailors spotted Conan and Infidia and raced toward them.

“Remember from now on you’re Infidia the warrior-witch, and I’m Conan the warrior-thief!” Infidia hissed at Conan.

Conan watched as the sailors, Scar and Alic, laughed and slapped Infidia on the back. Scar asked if he could take the chest while Alic asked what had happened to the others. Infidia explained that Lar, Saul, Balik, and Trev had all died valiantly fighting monsters and hordes of undead. Conan cringed inside as she explained with words that would never have come out of his lips how masterfully they’d fought.

“Conan, I think we can tell this tale once we are aboard the Bounty.” Conan said cursing the need to pretend to be Infidia and having to call Infidia Conan.

“Of course” Infidia answered too sweetly in Conan’s manly tones.

When they reached the longboat Conan sat at one of the rowing benches knowing that this boat normally used four oarsmen. When she looked up Conan saw Infidia staring at her with a crooked grin.

“I know you’d like to help lass, but a ten year old boy could pull better than you. Why don’t you have a seat in the bow and enjoy the view while the lads and I see to the oars.” Infidia said clearly enjoying the chance to tease Conan.

The sailors chuckled at Conan’s remark and rather than appear any more foolish Conan moved forward dropping the bag with the spell books to the floor of the boat with a sigh of relief. The two sailors and Infidia took their places at the oars and the longboat made its way swiftly to the Ocean’s Bounty where Captain Sarl ordered a cargo net thrown over the side for them to use to climb aboard. As the sailors dropped the net another set of lines came down and Scar and Alic tied them to the bow and stern of the boat.

“Ladies first” Infidia said holding the cargo net so Conan could reach it.

Both boats were rocking in the somewhat rough sea and as Conan reached out to grab the net she miss-judged the timing and her reach. Slipping at first and then flailing for a hand hold Conan teetered precariously for a long second and then tumbled into the ocean. Conan had learned how to swim in the cold lakes and streams of Cimmeria so the warm salty waters of the Azure Sea didn’t bother her. She came up sputtering and before she could say anything a strong hand with a grip like iron fastened onto her wrist. Like a mother lifting its babe from the cradle Infidia lifted Conan from the sea and dropped her back into the longboat.

“I think you need to find your sea legs lass. Do you need me to have Captin Sarl lower another line so the side-boys can lay-to and haul you aboard?”

“No” Conan tried to growl but it came out sounding shrill.

With that she stood up and jumped from the longboat to the netting. This time luck was on her side had she found a hand and foot hold before dropping back into the ocean. Even with luck Conan found that the only way for her to climb the netting was to use her legs to push her up the net. Conan’s new upper body just lacked the strength to pull her up without using her legs. To Conan’s embarrassment Infidia and both sailors swarmed up the netting before she reached the top and she’d started the climb first!

Standing there dripping wet her leathers stuck tightly to her body Conan watched as the side-boys hauled away on the lines with more strength than she now possessed. After a minute she stalked across the deck intending to go to her cabin. Infidia caught her just before she opened the hatch.

“Infidia, your cabin is over there.” Infidia said pointing one door down.

Realizing her mistake Conan stomped to Infidia’s cabin and slammed the door shut behind her to drown out the roar of Infidia’s manly laughter.

Synopsis:

A youthful Conan, having just won his freedom from his eastern masters, has traveled to the wild coast port city of Costa. Conan has settled into Costa and is using his skill as a thief and a warrior to survive. The sorcerer/merchant Captain Zula commissioned Conan the thief, to retrieve a pair of spell books from his mother’s (the infamous Sea Witch) island. During the raid Conan and Infidia the ‘Blade of Costa’ fall victim to the Sea Witch’s magic. Now they must use wits and blade if they are to survive and return to Costa!

Author note: This story was inspired by Bill Hart’s great cover on TG caps at the below address:

Author note 2: I didn’t create the character Conan and do not I plan to make any money from the use of the character in this story. This was written for public consumption and enjoyment.

“Know, oh prince, that between the years when the oceans drank Atlantis and the gleaming cities, and the years of the rise of the Sons of Aryas, there was an Age undreamed of, when shining kingdoms lay spread across the world like blue mantles beneath the stars — Nemedia, Ophir, Brythunia, Hyperborea, Zamora with its dark-haired woman and towers of spider-haunted mystery, Zingara with its chivalry, Koth that bordered on the pastoral lands of Shem, Stygia with its shadow-guarded tombs, Hyrkania whose riders wore steel and silk and gold. But the proudest kingdom of the world was Aquilonia, reigning supreme in the dreaming west. Hither came Conan, the Cimmerian, black-haired, sullen-eyed, sword in hand, a thief, a reaver, a slayer, with gigantic melancholies and gigantic mirth, to tread the jeweled thrones of the Earth under his sandaled feet.”

- The Nemedian Chronicles
The Coming of Conan the Cimmerian (Conan the Barbarian), by Robert E. Howard, Ballantine Books, New York, 2003

Conan looked around the semi-dark of the cabin feeling bewildered and angry. She had managed to escape the stares and laughter of the crew but had screwed up by going to her old cabin, Conan’s cabin. Although, Infidia had been spending so much time in Conan’s cabin that it wouldn’t have been that big of a surprise, to the crew, if she’d stayed there. Conan spotted a sea trunk at the foot of the bunk where Infidia had slept when she hadn’t been sleeping with him. Figuring that it would have a change of clothes and wanting to get out of the wet leathers Conan went to the trunk. It was locked but after digging through Infidia’s belt pouch Conan found the key and soon had the trunk open.

There were more clothes in the trunk than Conan would have thought possible. Another set of fighting leathers as well as the cotton and wool garments Conan had seen Infidia wearing, at times, during the voyage. There were also several sets of female small clothes, a couple of towels, soaps, and other feminine items Conan didn’t recognize.

Conan peeled off the leather outer corset with some difficulty due to the small tight knots. In a moment of frustration Conan considered using one of the many knives she’d found stashed around Infidia’s body on the strings but then thought better of it. Ruining clothes in a fit of pique would be foolish. Conan had many flaws but she was a survivor and had learned to adapt to any situation and to win out. This one was stranger than any trial Conan had yet faced, but she was determined to survive and to get the sorcerer Zula to change them back.

Cotton tunic and leather pants joined the black leather corset and under garments in a pile. At this point Conan froze. The unfamiliar movement of breasts now free from the constricting corset drew his attention. They were glorious mounds of flesh that Conan had enjoyed on the trip to the island from the perspective of Infidia’s the lover. Now suddenly curious Conan reached up and gently pinched a great pink nipple rolling the sensitive flesh between her fingers. She inhaled sharply at the sensation they were far more sensitive than Conan had expected. Conan bent forward and pulled an under-tunic from the neatly folded stack of clothing in the trunk and noticed how her breasts swung out to hang like a pair of utters and then as she straightened up how her breasts fell back naturally against her chest. Conan also noticed that when she’d bent over she’d instinctively put her knees together without any discomfort. Now Conan looked down between her breasts and saw the neatly trimmed triangle of red hair hiding Infidia’s vagina from Conan’s view.

Just then the door to the cabin burst open with Infidia striding in, “Infidia, are you doing alright? Do you need any help finding, …” Infidia said his comment trailing off as he looked down at the tip of the rapier a naked Conan held firmly at his throat.

“Come into my cabin again unannounced and you’ll spend the rest of the voyage recovering from wounds!”

Infidia wanted to laugh but the serious look on her former face told Infidia that it would be unwise.

“I wanted to make sure you could find your clothes and the key to the chest. I see you’ve figured it all out. So I’ll leave you, my lady.” Infidia said as earnestly as he could backing away. Then seeing that Conan was merely watching Infidia stepped back out the hatch and closed the door. Then shouting through the door Infidia said, “If you wish to assure your privacy my lady there is a latch on the door you can use to secure it.”

At the sound of the bolt sliding home Infidia chuckled and turning away grinned at the memory of Conan’s breasts swinging freely as she’d spun around drawing the sword. Conan’s lunge had been perfect and her extension excellent. Infidia had known that she had a fantastic body, but now she was able to appreciate it from a whole new point of view and found that it was very pleasing indeed. Whistling brightly Infidia headed up to the deck to watch as the sailors of the Ocean’s Bounty pulled anchor and got the ship underway.

By the time the island was little more than a speck on the horizon Infidia was standing at the stern watching the helmsman navigate the ship. Conan climbed the ladder from the lower mid-deck to the upper aft-deck moving only slightly awkwardly. Infidia saw that Conan had re-braided her hair and that she’d found the dark green tunic that hung down just past Conan’s knee with a slit up one side for quick movements. The bodice had been laced a touch more tightly than Infidia preferred and Conan wore Infidia’s weapons belt, cinched tightly around her narrow waist, with a rapier on one hip and a long curved fighting knife on the other. Infidia grinned thinking that both of these were signs that Conan felt insecure. As well she should, now that Conan wore Infidia’s luscious body, she was the only female aboard the ship.

Infidia had changed opting for a tunic and sandals, but only had a small eating knife on his belt. Conan came to a stop next to Infidia and stared out at the sea silent for a couple of minutes. Judging that the helmsman was far enough away so that they could talk without being overheard Conan finally spoke.

“Tell me again why I shouldn’t put a knife into you?”

“Because you’d remain a woman for the rest of your life,” Infidia replied.

“You’re sure Zula can undue this curse?”

“As sure as I can be about anything related to magic.”

Conan turned and much to her distaste had to crane her neck to look up at Infidia. “What do you mean, as sure as you can be?”

“There are no absolutes in magic Infidia,” Infidia said emphasizing the name. “I think the chances are very good he can undo this. It was the spell he gave me that allowed it to happen in the first place. If he gives me another crystal with the same spell I think I can fix this myself.”

After a few minutes of silence Infidia spoke up. “You might want to relax, your posture is very tense and your standing sort of unnaturally with your feet too far apart and your shoulders hunched forward. If you straighten your posture and put your feet together you’ll be more comfortable and look more natural.”

“That’s how a woman would stand.” Conan said sounding annoyed.

“Yes, because you’re a woman. I know you know this because I saw you looking your body over when you changed clothes.” Infidia said trying to get Conan to react to his teasing.

Conan remained silent for a moment so Infidia continued changing from a light playful tone to a more serious one. “If you want to prevent the sailors from becoming suspicious you need to act more naturally. If you allow yourself to relax it will help. Your body knows how it wants to move you just have to let it.”

“You’re a fine one to talk.” Conan said, “when you were talking to the Captain you were using words I’d never use and I don’t think I’ve ever put my hand behind my hip like that.”

Infidia looked down and then moved his hand away, “point taken. We both need practice getting used to our new bodies. You should spend some time today practicing with my weapons. I know you’re a warrior, but my weapons and fighting techniques are different from yours. My fighting style focused on speed, skill, and range weapons.”

At this Conan nodded. “I will, but for now I’m off to find something to eat and then I’ll be getting some sleep. Where are the books and the treasure chest?”

“Locked safely in my cabin,” Infidia said.

At that Conan, grunted in a very unfeminine way, turned, and stomped off headed for the galley.

The storm came up that night with little warning. Conan’s first clue was the feeling of rolling out of her bunk to land on the hard boards of the deck. Growling Conan came to her feet with the dagger she’d been sleeping with in her hand as she searched the cabin for an opponent. About the time she realized she was alone in the darkness, the ship rolled again under another tremendous wave and Conan lurched barely catching her balance.

She’d taken Infidia’s advice earlier that day and spent nearly two hours with her weapons practicing familiar movements in her unfamiliar body. Even though these weren’t the weapons Conan preferred she was determined to master them. When Conan had been a fighting slave, she’d learned to use many types of weapons and how to use her hands and feet in battle. Now as Conan practiced she adopted her movements to what her new body did well and to the weapons Infidia had used. Many of the movements were the same as those Conan had seen Infidia practicing, but there were different moves as well. When Conan finished she noticed that she’d gained an audience just as Infidia always had when she’d practiced. As Conan started toward her cabin she noticed Infidia in the midst of the sailors who were pretending to dice. Infidia met Conan’s gaze without the slightest shred of embarrassment at being caught staring. Infidia winked at Conan and then lifted a wineskin and squirted a thick stream of dark red wine into his mouth before passing it onto the sailor next to him.

“Excellent show lass, now if you’d consent to do it without any clothes the lads and I’d happily give you a silver each.” Infidia had shouted with a masculine bellow.

Conan had felt her checks flush with embarrassment and hurried down toward her cabin. Infidia meet her halfway down the main deck with the sailors he’d been dicing cheering him on.

“Now come on lass, the whole crew knows we’re lovers, give your man a kiss.” Infidia said softly stepping close and putting his huge callused hands on Conan’s shoulders.

Conan did her best to smile and tilted her head back. Infidia with a grin lowered his mouth toward hers and Conan brought her knee up firmly into Infidia’s groin. With a woof of exhaling air Infidia doubled over and the watching sailors burst into a round of raucous laughter as Infidia learned what every young boy learns about the sensitivity of a the male organ.
Conan had danced back as Infidia doubled over, with Infidia’s light agility, and then moved around Infidia before he could recover. Conan had stopped by the galley where she picked up biscuits, dried meat, and an apple for dinner and then escaped to her cabin locking the door. Infidia had come by later that night wanting to talk and to apologize but Conan refused to answer letting silence speak for her.

One of the skills that Conan had learned in the east had been the art of reading. She’d spotted a book in the trunk in Infidia’s room and opened it discovering that it was a book on alchemy and poison. It explained the process that created the flash-bangs Infidia used as well as the use of poison. With nothing else to do Conan sat down with the book and was amazed at some of the secrets it revealed. Poison, potion, alchemy, and explosive powders were woman’s weapons, but since Conan was trapped in a woman’s body perhaps it would be worth her time to learn some of these secrets. Conan read until she was tired enough to sleep and then put out the oil lamp and climbed into bed.

Now with the ship rocking violently Conan knew that she’d never be able to sleep so she left her cabin and made her way to the hatch leading to the main deck. The wind was so fierce that it took all of Conan’s strength to open the hatch and when she did a blast of wind and water nearly dragged her from her feet. Drenched and cold Conan made her way out onto the mid-deck and looked up at the raised aft-deck where the helmsman stood. The sails had all been secured and the oars pulled in with all of the portals locked shut and the rowing benches covered. The helmsman stood behind the massive ships wheel lashed to the railing for safety. Beside him stood Infidia also lashed to the ship helping to hold the wheel firmly in place. During a flash of lightning Conan saw the churning of the wild sea just as a wave washed up onto the mid-deck taking Conan several feet toward the side before she was able to catch herself. For nearly a minute Conan battled wind and wave gaining a new appreciation for how easily Infidia’s one hundred pounds could be tossed around by the elements. At last she made her way to the hatch that led back below deck and to the forward cabins. Pulling herself into the hatch Conan looked back and saw Infidia lift a fist to the sky challenging the Gods his hair and eyes were wild with excitement in the storm. He looked like a young God challenging his elders by his defiance. Conan slammed the hatch closed behind her cutting off the howl of the elements. With the ship pitching wildly about Conan made her way carefully back to her cabin.

The storm continued for two days before it finally blew itself out. For most of that time Conan stayed below deck. She helped the cook who could only serve cold food because a fire was too dangerous in the storm. Conan wished that she had the strength to take a turn above deck at the helm or at any other task but the memory of nearly being swept overboard by the wind and sea made Conan realize that in this body there were things she simply couldn’t do. She settled for bringing water and dried meat to the sailors as they came off their turn at watch. They were too exhausted to go to the galley and normally just collapsed as soon as they were out of the elements.

Now the ship rocked in the slight swells of a nearly calm ocean and most of the sailors rested in an exhausted sleep after the two day ordeal. Conan climbed topside and looked out at the damage. At some point during the storm the main mast had been ripped away leaving wreckage behind. Conan wasn’t sure how badly the ship had been damaged but she knew that it needed repairs before they returned to Costa.

Conan spotted Infidia and Captain Sarl standing by the great wheel. The Captain had a long tube with a piece of glass on either end up to his eye and he was scanning the horizon with it. After a minute he passed it to Infidia who did the same thing. Conan picked her way carefully through the wreckage and climbed to the aft-deck.

“Captain how badly damaged has the storm left us?” Conan asked.

Captain Sarl looked at Conan for a second and then over at the wreckage on the main deck. He let out a long sigh and turned back to Conan.

“As I’ve explained to Conan, it will take us about a day to clear the deck. We’ve got a smaller spare mast below that we can bring up and use to get back to Costa, but we’ll need to find a port in order to make the repairs. It’s too dangerous to do on the open sea. We are also taking on water below deck, nothing too bad, we’ll patch it as best we can, but some time pier-side will allow us to make sure of the patch.”

Before Conan could ask the next question an exhausted Infidia spoke up. “Sarl told me that even though we can’t be sure where the storm blew us we do know that there is land to the north so we’re sailing north. Once we find land we’ll look for a feature that the Captain or the ships Navigator can use to fix our position. After we know where we are the Captain will know where to go for a safe harbor.”

Conan nodded wanting to reach out and snatch the device from Infidia and scan for land but knew it make her would look like a spoiled woman. Before she could ask for the glass Captain Sarl spoke up.

“Conan, thank you for your help during the storm without your strong back at the wheel during the worst of it we would’ve foundered. If you hadn’t kept us pointed into the wind the ship would have rolled abeam the waves and they would’ve pounded us to kindling. We all owe you our lives. If there is anything you need the men of the Ocean’s Bounty are at your call!”
With that Captain Sarl reached out and gripped Infidia’s forearm. Infidia copied the gesture gripping Captain Sarl’s arm in the masculine gesture of respect.

“I’m proud to have been able to stand with you in the storm Captain!” Infidia exclaimed in Conan’s powerful tones, a new masculine pride, quiet yet commanding, filling his voice.

Conan wanted to scream that it wasn’t Conan who’d saved them and at the same time for one of the few times in her life Conan felt guilty. Guilty, because Conan felt like she should have been the one at the helm saving the ship and then guilty all over again at being jealous that Infidia had been the one to save their lives. Conan turned away and started looking for things she could do to help the ship and its crew as they recovered from the storm.

It had taken nearly a day for the crew to make what repairs they could and at dawn of the second day after the storm the lookout had cried, “land-ho!”

Captain Sarl had turned the ship west and after several hours sailing parallel to the cost, heading toward Costa, Captain Sarl found a land mark that matched one from his chart and allowed him to take a fix. After consulting his charts and logs and the ship’s navigator Captain Sarl had informed Infidia and Conan that the closest port was Scompiglio the same port they’d used to resupply the ship on the way to the Sea Witch’s Island. After Captain Sarl left Conan turned to Infidia with a scowl.

“This could be a problem. I gave Captain Burgun’s men a thumping they won’t have forgotten.”

Infidia’s barbarian constitution had caused him to fully recover from the ordeal and now he looked down at Conan like a caged tiger waiting for the next challenge. Conan also knew that Infidia was a little frustrated with her since Conan had rebuffed Infidia’s subtle and not so subtle hints that they resume the nocturnal entertainment they’d enjoyed on the voyage out to the Sea Witch’s island. Conan was repulsed at the notion of allowing her former body to push his giant cock into her. In fact Conan was still overly self-conscious of her new feminine parts every time she had to go to the head and hang them out, exposed, over the ocean to relieve herself. There was no way anyone was going to use Conan’s body for pleasure! The sooner they reached the sorcerer Zula the sooner this problem would be fixed. Infidia interrupted Conan’s thoughts sounding confident.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head lass. If the pirates try to hurt you I’ll thump them and send them packing just like last time!”

Conan flushed and after a quick glance to make sure no one could hear. “What do you mean like last time? Last time it was me that did the thumping and it was me that sent them packing!” Conan hissed.

Infidia raised an eyebrow, a gesture completely foreign to Conan, and said. “Conan sent them packing.”

Infidia held up his right arm flexing his bicep, “is this not Conan’s arm?” Then Infidia slapped his thighs “are these not Conan’s legs?” He then thumped his muscular chest “does Conan’s heart not beat within my chest?” Infidia stepped in close to Conan. “Is this not Conan’s cock that hangs between my legs and longs to find Infidia’s pussy?”

Conan felt her face flush and started to step back but Infidia grabbed Conan’s shoulders and started down into her eyes.
“Accept it! You have Infidia’s breasts, her arms, legs, and pussy! You are Infidia! Just as I am Conan, thinking any differently will get us both in trouble. Infidia is a woman who lives life on her own terms! She is skilled with both blade and spell! She has won renown in Costa and defeated Costa’s finest swordsmen earning the title, as the ‘Blade of Costa!’ What most don’t know is that she is also skilled at the arts of love if you’ll allow me into your cabin I’ll show you things you’ve never imagined.”

For a moment Conan was lost in those deep passionate blue Cimmerian eyes but then her will, that same iron will that had faced slavery, and been forged by the fighting pits of the east, asserted itself from the depths of its soft feminine prison. Conan pushed Infidia's hands away and stepped back. Infidia let go giving Conan the space she desired something in Conan’s posture told Infidia that he’d pushed her as far as he could and that if he continued to push Conan would lash out.

“I understand very well I’m in a woman’s body. That doesn’t change the argument. The deeds for which Conan is now famous are deeds accomplished by me. Don’t be fooled into believing everything you hear about me! Or into thinking that you are invincible now that you wear my skin! If you do then your arrogance will get us both killed!” Conan said with Infidia’s impassioned voice.

With that Conan spun around her loose hair whipping about in a red curtain. Conan stalked away hips rolling smoothly with the movement of the ship and the tight fitting fighting leathers left none of Conan’s well-formed back side to Infidia’s imagination. The rapidly rising bulge within Infidia’s codpiece was a testimony to how captivating the mysteries of Conan’s new female form had become to Infidia.

The port of Scompiglio really stinks Infidia thought as he stood at the railing watching as the Ocean’s Bounty slide into port with the sun a mere finger’s width above the horizon. I wonder why I didn’t notice the first time we were through here, Infidia thought to himself.

They dropped anchor in the harbor but Captain Sarl had told both Conan and Infidia they’d need to pay the port authority (such as it was) a fee to come pier side to make the required repairs. The Captain thought it would take about two days. This meant that Infidia and Conan could hide below decks for two days or they could move about unafraid of some pirate scum who might hold a grudge.

Infidia smiled at the memory of the argument that he’d had with Conan, … er Infidia the new Conan corrected himself. Infidia had explained that, “as a man and a warrior strength was what counted and there was no man who could match Conan’s might. Why should he hide below deck like a coward?”

Conan had responded that, “no matter how strong the lion if there are enough jackals the lion can be pulled down.”
“I am a man,” Infidia had responded, “would you have me be something other than what I am?” Not waiting for a reply he continued; “If you would have me stay below deck are you offering me something to keep me occupied?”

Infidia watched Conan in response to the comment blush attractively and then stomp away. Now Infidia used her keen Cimmerian eyes to observe a longboat as it made its way to where the Ocean’s Bounty had dropped anchor. In minutes it had come alongside and a fat old pirate who’d obviously retired from buccaneering, and now made a living working for the Pirate Captains who ran the town as its harbor master, laboriously climbed aboard.

Captain Sarl met the harbor master as soon as he made it to the quarterdeck and after a few minutes of discussion Infidia saw coins exchange hands. Then the fat former pirate turned to go as he did his eyes swept over the deck and locked onto Infidia for a second. The pirate hesitated and then with surprising agility swarmed over the side and descended to his longboat. Captain Sarl shouted orders for the crew to man the sweeps and the ship started moving toward its assigned birth. Infidia went below deck looking for his former body. He had a bad feeling about the harbor master and figured that the best way to keep the Bounty out of trouble would be to get off her quickly as possible.

Infidia pounded on Conan’s door and, after a few minutes it opened, before Conan could ask what he wanted Infidia pushed into the cabin.

“We have to talk.” He said. Looking curious Conan folded her arms beneath her breasts and looked at him silently.
“The harbor master just gave permission for the Captain to bring the Bounty to a birth at a pier for repairs. I’m sure that when he saw me he recognized me.” Infidia said.

“Crom!” Conan swore.

“Pack some of your things, as soon as the ship docks we need to be away. I’ll talk to Captain Sarl and let him know we’ll spend the next two days ashore. That way if the pirates come looking they can safely search the ship and find us gone. The crew can say we left and the pirates will search the town for us and leave them alone. We’ll lay-low for two days and then return just before Sarl puts out to sea.”

“Do you know how many problems there are with your plan? Starting with neither of us knows this town or has any friends here.” Conan said her voice a soft angry hiss.

“It’s the best plan I could come up with on short notice unless you have something better!” Infidia said.

Conan looked angry but at last she nodded in agreement. “Fine, but we should be off before the Bounty touches the pier. For all we know the harbor master is setting a trap for us right now.”

“I agree, I’ll talk to Sarl and see if he’ll delay getting the ship to the pier and put a longboat over the side. We can have a couple of the crew put us ashore well away from where the Bounty will tie up.”

“Agreed, I’ll be ready in ten minutes!” Conan said turning and pulling a pack from the side of the cabin. She hurriedly began stuffing it with spare clothes, weapons, and gold.

Conan and Infidia came ashore just after the sun had set and moved quickly up and away from the waterfront. The alley where they’d stopped the rape during their last visit, and the tavern where they’d brawled with Burgun’s men, was on the southeast side of town so they moved away from the waterfront and headed to the northwest looking for a place to spend the night. The town was much as Conan remembered if slightly less smelly. The mud squished between her boots and the open lustful stares of the sailors and pirates moving, mostly drunkenly, around the harbor suddenly made Conan very conscious of how much smaller she now was. As they got further away from the harbor the streets got narrower and less muddy. It took some time to reach the western edge of town and when they did Conan realized that it bordered on a swamp.

Still the buildings were in a little better condition with fewer bars and more shops and homes. As they worked around to the north side of town Infidia with his keen eyes and greater height spotted a bridge that apparently led to an elevated road. The road moved out into the darkness of the swamp that surrounded the town. Not far from the bridge was a building that Infidia suggested was an inn. The inside of the building impressed Conan right away with an actual wooden floor and lamps that filled the great room with enough light to make her blink.

“How can the ‘Traveler’s Haven’ assist you,” a jolly sounding male voice asked?

Conan looked over to see a large bald man almost as tall as Infidia in Conan’s body, with a belly twice as large, ruddy red cheeks, and a gap toothed smile, extending his hand to shake Infidia’s.

“I’m Conan and this is my woman Infidia,” Infidia said gesturing toward Conan. “We have just arrived in Scompiglio and need lodging for the next three nights.”

“In that case you’ve found the right place. I offer the best prices and the only clean beds with a guarantee of no bed bugs!” The inn keeper laughed. “My name is Ham, I never knew my mother and my father said he named me after his favorite food.” Ham paused for a second and when neither Conan nor Infidia laughed he continued, “it’s a pair of silver crowns a night and you get dinner and a mug a piece of my own brown ale.”

“Done,” said Infidia dropping a single gold coin into the fat man’s hands. Ham grinned and lifted the coin to his mouth and bit into it. With a nod and a grunt he made it disappear under the apron he wore over his slightly greasy tunic. He then turned looking around the tap room which was only about a third full at this early hour and spotted a young woman with dark hair.

“Rose! I need ya over here lass!” Ham bellowed with a much louder voice than Conan would’ve credited to him.

Rose glanced up her gaze swept over Conan pausing to evaluate him and then a smile slowly blossomed on her face. Rose’s posture changed, her back straightened showing off her breasts within the loosely tied tunic. She walked, taking advantage of each step to show the charms her body offered, over to Ham. As Rose got closer Conan spotted the same gap between her front two teeth that Ham had and guessed that they were father and daughter.

“Yes, Pa? What are ya need'en?” Rose said with the accent most of the locals used. Rose had barely taken her eyes off Infidia the whole time, Conan noticed, but instead of being amused she was irritated.

“This is Conan and his mate Infidia take them up to room number four and make sure they have whatever they might need for the night.” Ham said. He then turned to Infidia with a sharp look. “I run a respectable business and I expect my guests to keep that in mind. If you need baths I’ve got a lad who will bring a tub to your room. Also Rose is a keen shopper and if there is something you need from the market within the hour she can fetch it for you.”

Before Infidia could say anything Conan reached out to take Rose’s arm and drop a brass bit into her hand.

“Please fetch some fresh soap from the market something that smells like pine and will get the grim off of a barbarian’s hide.”

At this Rose clutched the coin and then looked at Conan for the first time her eyes evaluating. Conan could almost see the wheels turning in the little brunette’s head. Finally she must have decided something because she ducked her chin, “yes mistress.”

The room Rose led them too was on the second floor of the inn. It wasn’t overly large but was larger than the cabin’s they’d had on the Ocean’s Bounty. The room had a window with actual glass and a large bed, a chamber pot in the corner, a small table with a pitcher of water, and a bowl for washing. In front of the table was a small stool and above the table a mirror. Along one wall was a cabinet where Conan and Infidia could stow their packs and it had a lock with the key sticking out. There was also plenty of open space between the bed and the door for a tub.

After Rose left Infidia turned to Conan, “what was all that about? Soap and a bath, I didn’t think barbarian’s washed.”
“Don’t be stupid of course we bathe, just not as often as you southerners feel is necessary. It’s been several weeks since either of us had a bath and we stink. It would have seemed strange if YOUR WOMAN didn’t ask for a bath.” Conan couldn’t help the annoyance that slipped out at that last statement.

Before Infidia could respond there was a knock at the door. When Infidia opened it a couple of young men with a striking resemblance to the Inn keeper moved into the room carrying a large bathtub. They were soon followed by a string of serving women carrying steaming buckets. It took several trips to fill the bathtub and by this time Rose had returned with a cake of soap that did, in fact, smell like pine.

Once the members of the inn’s staff had cleared out Infidia sat down on the bed and started to work his boots off.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Conan asked icily.

“Taking off my clothes so we can have a bath.”

“You can have a bath once I’m done. Go down to the tap room and have a beer.” Conan said feeling her face flush.

With a laugh Infidia got off the bed and headed for the door. As he turned the handle Conan stopped him.

“Why did you pay for three nights,” she asked?

Infidia looked back over his shoulder at the gorgeous red head who’d already flung her cloak over the bed and was now unbuckling her boots.

“We just made port tonight. The lads won’t get anything done. They’ve been more than two months at sea and survived the Sea Witch’s island and the fury of the Gods of the Sea. Tonight they’ll be getting drunk. Tomorrow they’ll start work. Captain Sarl said two full days so by dawn three nights from now we will put this place behind us.” With that Infidia closed the door.

After taking off her boots Conan walked to the door and shoved the bolt home locking it. Then slowly and carefully she removed her clothes. Even though Conan had been in this body for several days the feeling of her heavy breasts swinging free was still as strange as was the absence of her penis. Once free of her clothes Conan unbound her hair running her fingers through the long red tresses. The sensation felt better than Conan had expected. It was a motion she’d seen women do and had never really understood since she’d kept her hair closely cropped. Next Conan stepped in front of the mirror and looked at her reflection. The image of feminine perfection made Conan catch her breath. Crom! I’m beautiful! For several long moments Conan feasted her eyes on Infidia’s naked perfection and then she moved to the tub slowly lowering herself into it one inch at a time.

The water was scalding hot and, for once, Conan didn’t miss her manhood as she lowered her smooth bottom into the hot water. For several minutes she sat back closing her eyes and relaxing into the tub. For Conan a bath had always been a necessary chore. Being clean prevented disease and made a man more attractive to a woman so it was necessary. Now however as she began to massage the scented soap into her soft skin Conan discovered that a bath was also a luxury.

The feeling of the soft soap as Conan lathered her breasts made her squirm with a strange empty achy feeling between her legs. Conan tried clutching her knees together and rolling her hips to the left and then the right but the ach only got worse. Her breasts felt so good Conan reached down to the thatch of red hair between her legs and slowly started rubbing. The smooth folds of skin responded to her gentle stroking filling with blood and opening up to receive the penetration she unknowingly craved. Moving her fingers up and down in long stroking motions Conan stimulated her clitoris feeling little shocks of pleasure jolt through her system as she continued to stroke her large pink nipples with her other hand.

The feelings continued to build until Conan unable to resist her body’s longing and pushed first one finger and then another into the warm folds of her vagina. This quickly ratcheted up the sensations and Conan arched her back and bent her knees throwing her head back eyes wild as soft moans escaped her lips. When her first female orgasm hit Conan could hardly breathe the sensations were so intense.

“Crom, what have I done?” Conan whispered feeling both thrilled and troubled at her discovery. Was it possible to become so comfortable in this new body that she wouldn’t want to return to her old form? What if this body changed her so much that she couldn’t go back? Conan wondered. Even though the water was still warm Conan left the tub dried off and climbed into her second set of leathers. It took Conan several minutes to get dressed and tying the corset was still a challenge. She decided to leave it a little loose, feeling over heated and not wanting the normal constricting feeling on her chest. After a moment Conan on a whim chose not to braid her hair and pulled out an ivory comb she’d found among Infidia’s belongings and combed her hair out letting it hang loose to dry in waves. Feeling dry and clean Conan was at last ready to face the tap room and eat. She paused for a moment to buckle on her weapons belt, the habits of a life time still with her.

Infidia had been having the time of his life. As a woman Infidia had often been the center of attention due to her beauty. But he hadn’t been respected at least not the way the men around him did now. Even after Infidia had built her reputation as a skilled blade and a capable agent, she’d been continuously tested and pushed by the men around her. They never believed that she could have earned her reputation on her own or thought it must have been overblown. After all there was no way a woman could take a really warrior in battle! The men in the tap room took one look at Infidia, no strike that, CONAN and gave him the room and the respect he deserved. It filled a place inside Infidia that he hadn’t known had been empty until now. Then there were the wenches! Conan had been playing hard to get while they were at sea, but here there were several woman who looked at Infidia with hungry eyes.

Perhaps a second room would be worth the silver, Infidia thought catching Rose’s eye. She wasn’t as beautiful as the new Conan but she had plenty of curves and unless Infidia was mistaken she was more than willing. Just then there was a change in the buzz of the conversation. Infidia looked for the source of the disturbance and spotted her former body. He could only stare!

Conan had finished her bath and her recently sun darkened cheeks were still flushed from the heat adding color to her normally pale skin. Her red hair had been combed and left to hang loose softening her face and making her look far more feminine than Infidia had ever dared in public. The dark leather corset and leather trousers showed her full bosom, narrow waist, and long legs to their fullest leaving no doubt in anyone’s mind that she was by far the most attractive female in the bar.

Conan walked with the natural feline grace, produced by her many hours of martial arts training, to where Infidia stood drinking. Infidia’d been staring at her with his mouth open in stunned surprise while she sauntered over to him. Conan smoothly snatched Infidia’s mug from his hand and downed the ale in one long drink.

“Thanks, Conan bathing is thirsty work. Have you eaten?”

Infidia shook his head no and then opened his mouth to speak but Conan wouldn’t let him.

“Why don’t you go up and wash off the salt and then come back down? I’ll wait for you if you’re not too long.” She said.
With a sigh Infidia moved to the stairs muttering under his breath. “Women, well, what can you expect?”

Infidia woke with his head throbbing and looked up at the light streaming in through the iron bars far above him. “Argh” he moaned and rolled over. His head pounded to the beat of his heart as it pushed blood through his veins. How could he have been so stupid? Last night had been extremely frustrating, he’d raced up to the room he shared with Conan and quickly jumped in and out of the lukewarm bath water. Barely taking the time to use the soap to scrap the mud, salt, and sweat from his hide before jumping out. For a moment he’d considered putting the same clothes back on, but then realized it would be a mistake. He’d spent the rest of the night trying to seduce Conan by challenging her to a drinking contest. Infidia knew that she could only drink small amounts of beer before she became drunk while Conan had a reputation in Costa for impressive feats with both the mug and the sword.

As the night wore on Infidia got drunker and drunker while Conan seemed to be unaffected. After staggering back from his fifth trip to the latrine Infidia had suddenly become suspicious and had drunkenly snatched Conan’s mug from her, a quick drink was all Infidia needed to tell that it was mostly water with just a hint of beer and some foam. Conan must have talked to the serving wenches and together they’d tricked him! He accused her of cheating and the woman had only laughed at him. He’d been so drunk by this time that Conan had to help him up to the room they shared where he’d promptly collapsed onto the bed and passed out with his clothes on.

The next day Infidia had been hung-over and still angry with Conan for tricking him. After a breakfast of oats, cheese, and bread Infidia had suggested they go to the market. Conan had argued against the idea saying that it was stupid to risk wandering around openly in such a small town. There was almost no chance they wouldn’t be spotted. Infidia had insisted saying that if they stayed away from the waterfront they’d be fine. Besides he was Conan, the strongest warrior on the wild coast! After telling Conan that he was going with or without her Conan had reluctantly agreed.

The market was larger than Infidia had thought it would be with several street vendors selling everything from clothes to jewelry and food. Infidia had tried to get Conan into the shopping mood by buying her a necklace of beads and shells but Conan hadn’t been impressed. By mid-afternoon they’d spotted a young boy who appeared to be following them. Moving quickly down an alley in an attempt to lose the boy they’d disappeared into the shadows. The alley opened to a mostly empty square and that’s where they’d been ambushed. More than twenty pirates pledge to Captain Burgun carrying clubs and quarter staffs had rushed them.

Infidia remembered fighting for all he was worth roaring with berserker fury his fists smashing down pirates. In seconds Infidia had ripped a club from a hapless pirate and used it along with his fist to swat down pirate after pirate. Conan had pulled her rapier and a long curved fighting knife as soon as she’d spotted the ambush and kept the sailors at bay by driving the blade of her rapier into the thigh of one pirate and slashing the next across the arm with her dagger. For several minutes, impossibly, the fight was evenly matched.

Then more pirates poured in and it became a blur. Infidia remembered seeing Conan go down under several bodies. The pirates had solved their dilemma of dealing with her blades without hurting her by the expediency of tackling her and then piling on. Infidia roared with anger and pushed through the press of bodies trying to reach Conan’s side when a blow had landed against the back of his head. Stunned he turned to face his attacker and saw that it was none other than Imbalayo, the pirate he’d downed during their last visit, wielding a large club. Infidia tried to turn and grab him but his feet were like rubber and then Imbalayo brought his club down again and darkness closed in.

Infidia threw up his stomach heaving for several seconds before he was able to gain control of himself.

A gruff voice said, “took a whack on the head did ya now?”

Infidia looked over and saw that two other men had been chained by iron collars to the wall of the cell. He reached up and found that he too had been collared and chained to the wall of the pit.

“Where are we?”

With a bark of laughter the man who’d spoke earlier answered. “Yer in da fighting pits of Scompiglio, lad. Sometimes after a really good thump to the head yer guts get all loose, it’ll pass.”

Infidia nodded and looked more closely at the speaker. He was a man with his hair shaved closely to his skull. If he was standing Infidia guessed he’d be several inches shorter than Infidia in his new body. Although his shoulders were just as wide and his arms were as thick as tree trunks.

“I’m, In, . ....Conan of Cimmeria, who are you?”

“Don’t have much use fer names in the pit, I was once called Devon and our silent friend there was known as Jarl.”

Infidia nodded and moved back to the wall putting his back to it and sinking into a cross legged position. As he did he noticed that a chain that connected the iron collar around his throat to a bracket high up on the wall was too short for him to be able to reach the other prisoners. The cell was perfectly round with stone walls and an iron grate in the center of the ceiling and a dim light provided some illumination. Infidia guessed that this was the only way in and out of the pit.
Infidia leaned back against the cool stones and noticed that each of his cell mates were clad like him in an iron collar and a loin cloth and nothing else. This allowed him to see that they were both lean with plenty of muscle and scars from other fights. Infidia closed his eyes and rested his head back against the cool stone wall.

“How could I have been so stupid,” he thought to himself. Thinking through the events of the last few days he realized that he’d been guilty of falling into the trap Conan had warned him of. The feeling of raw physical power he’d gloried in during the storm had gone to his head. He’d never been so strong and had thought that this would make him invincible. He should have listened to Conan and kept a low profile until it was time to return to the ship. But even during the fight he’d still not taken the situation seriously enough. Infidia cursed himself doubly as a fool. He’d had his broad sword on his hip and, instead of drawing it, had chosen to meet his opponents on equal terms. With his fists and a stolen club this was something he’d never have done before the swap.

Infidia in his normal body would never have allowed herself to get into that situation, and would have used every trick and every skill to escape. One of the first rules he’d learned was that there was no such thing as a fair fight winners always look for an advantage. Now because of his stupidity and arrogance he was in a slave and the Gods only knew where Conan was.

Infidia had no idea how long he was in the pit when without warning the iron grate was pulled up with a heavy scraping sound and a ladder was lowered into the pit. Next three pirates with naked cutlasses descended into the pit. Infidia watched as they made the fighting slave who’d identified himself as Devon stand. One pirate held a cutlass to his throat while the next moved behind Devon and using a metal rod with a hook on one end he reached up to the bracket high up on the wall where Devon’s chain was secured and unhooked it from the wall. In seconds Devon was led by his chain up out of the pit. The process was repeated with Jarl and then at last Infidia. As the pirate approached Infidia he snarled.

“Don’t be give’n me no trouble laddie or I’ll be putting this pig sticker in ya!”

For a second Infidia had thought about trying to escape but he had no idea where he was or how many guards were above the pit or which way to go to get to the harbor. No it would be better to be patient and figure out a plan and then act.
Infidia was led up into a large room with nine or ten grates in the floor just like the one he’d climbed out of. Infidia could see the other to fighting slaves had been cuffed and shackled and were standing in a line. There were about a dozen fighters in the line and before he knew it Infidia had also been secured and added to the line with a chain running through his collar connecting him to the others. They were marched out of the prison and into the torch lit night. The air was cool with a breeze coming off the sea and Infidia could see a wooden palisade ahead. Once in the palisade they were chained by their collars to the southern wall. From where they’d been chained the slaves could see into a large fighting arena in the center of the palisade. Around the pit bleachers had been built into the east and west and directly across from where Infidia and the fighting slaves had been chained the pirate captains had built a set of raised viewing boxes. The bleachers were about two thirds full with pirates, whores, and other spectators mingling and drinking. Venders walked around selling beer and food as the pirates shouted for the fights to begin.

Two slaves were selected from the line and pushed into the pit. After a moment they were tossed a pair of spears. The crowd roared as the two fighters dove for their weapons. The smaller of the two was faster and had his spear up and was attacking before the larger slower slave was ready. His aim, however, was poor and instead of delivering a killing stroke he only wounded the larger man on the arm. As they circled each other Infidia realized that neither of them had any training and were fighting with very little skill. After several minutes the larger man using his greater reach had managed to wound the smaller man in several locations causing him to stumble from blood loss. The larger man took advantage of the moment to drive his spear into the smaller slave’s throat ending the fight in a fountain of blood.

The winner was pulled from the pit and given a mug of ale and put into a cage on the fare said of the pit that Infidia only now noticed. Then two more slaves were pulled from the line and they were tossed a pair of long hooked knives. After a few seconds this fight ended. The victor was obviously a crowd favorite and had had plenty of skill while his opponent who’d looked bigger and more fearsome was clearly untrained.

Abruptly Infidia was pulled from the line and shoved into the pit along with three other fighters. The pirate who’d been providing weapons tossed an iron gauntlet at Infidia’s feet. The gauntlet was heavy with iron bands, but more impressive were the three one inch iron spikes that sprouted from the weapon. Infidia quickly put it on his right hand while watching the other fighters. One of the slaves was given a six inch knife, the next a club, and the last a whip with bits of iron and steel worked into the leather. Then the pirate running the fighting left and the crowd started yelling.

Infidia turned to the fighter closest to him who also happened to have the club and before he could say anything the slave attacked. He swung the club with two hands like a farmer with an ax. Infidia stepped back just far enough so that the wildly swung club passed in front of him. Infidia then moved in close before the slave could recover and brought the heavy gauntlet down on the smaller man’s forehead feeling a satisfying crunch. As the slave fell Infidia ripped the club from his now lifeless fingers and turned to face the two remaining slaves.

While he’d been fighting the slave with the club the other two fighters had gone at it. The slave with the whip had snapped it across the fighter with the knife’s eyes as a distraction. The knife fighter had ducked back and the slave with the whip spun it around with an amazing degree of skill and snapped it out wrapping it around the ankle of his opponent. Then with a smooth movement he pulled the foot out from under the knife fighter. The knife man hit the ground hard and the slave with the whip dove on him smashing the handle of the whip down on his face. The whip handle had a two inch iron spike which sank into the eye of the knife fighter killing him. By the time the man with the whip stood up Infidia was stalking forward.
Infidia had seen the last part of the fight and knew about the spike and saw that the other slave now held the knife in addition to the whip. They circled each other warily both conscious of the fact that he was facing a trained fighter. Infidia noticed that the slave with the whip and knife was a few inches shorter and at least fifty pounds lighter but he knew better than to think this guaranteed him a win. He’d learned his lesson about over confidence once and didn’t plan to repeat it.

Abruptly the man with the whip stepped forward slashing it down in an attempt to entangle Infidia’s left arm, the arm holding the club. Instead of moving back Infidia jumped forward and twisted so that his gauntlet covered right hand caught the whip. Before his opponent could react, Infidia pulled hard on the whip jerking the other slave forward and off balance. Infidia brought his left hand up and then down planning to end the fight with a single blow from the club. At the last minute the whip fighter twisted and took the blow on his shoulder instead of his head. Infidia heard the sound of bones crunching and the fighting slave’s arm drop uselessly to his side. He tried to twist away dropping the whip but Infidia closed the distance and grabbed the slave’s knife hand just above the wrist with his gauntlet covered hand and squeezed. The slave threw his head back and screamed as the bones in wrist were crushed. Then in a swift violent movement Infidia brought the club down with finality on the slave’s head.

Breathing hard Infidia looked around and saw that the pirates were on their feet screaming and clapping. They obviously approved of how the fight went. The pirates who ran the fighting pits entered now with spears and bows. Infidia was ordered to drop his weapons. For a second he looked around and thought about trying his luck, but after a moment he realized there was no chance of escaping right now. Infidia threw his weapons to the sand and stalked back straight to the cages were the winners were held.

When Infidia entered the cage the other fighters gave him looks of respect and fear. As gratifying as it was on one level to receive those looks, (something she’d never been given in her female body) Infidia was more interested in figuring out a way to escape. The night wore on as slave after slave fought. Much later Infidia was returned to his cell-pit and after looking around realized that only one of his two cell mates had survived the night.

Once they were secured in their cells Infidia realized that someone had put a bag and a water skin under his bracket. In the bag was bread, cheese, and dried meat. Until now Infidia hadn’t realized how hungry he’d become. After he’d eaten Infidia notice that there was also a pot within reach obviously intend for him to use to relieve himself.

Infidia looked over at Devon and saw that he was eating more slowly watching Infidia. Infidia noticed that he was bleeding from the arm and that one eye had swollen closed. Obviously the other slave had had a harder time of things in the pit that night.

“I saw you fight, Conan. Yer probably the best fighter Captain Burgun has. I pity ya.” Devon said. Confused by this strange comment Infidia settled into a comfortable position.

“Why do you pity me Devon?”

“Because Captain Njal has a Stygian warrior with giant-blood in his veins, he has never lost, and is only pitted against the best fighters from the other Captains. Captain Burgun has sent several of his best fighters against the giant and they’ve all died. I was sentenced to the pit to fight twenty five times; if I survive I’ll be freed. You lad, well, you won’t survive another night.” Devon almost sounded regretful at this pronouncement.

After this Infidia sat back and silently cursed his own foolishness again. He should have known better, the goal was to survive not put on a spectacle and standout. By fighting smart and using all of his training along with his new bodies physical power Infidia had easily won his fight and probably signed his death warrant.

After a couple of hours the jailers returned to collect the pots used for dinner and surprisingly to offer a luxury. “You both fought well today.” The pirate said and then he handed each of them a blanket. A day ago this wouldn’t have seemed like a luxury but tonight, in the damp chill of the pit, it was enough.

The next day they were taken from the pit and moved to a yard were other fighting slaves were standing around. Before long two younger male slaves brought out a large pot filled with hot porridge. Then they started scooping up bowels for each of the fighters. After this a large scared man appeared, by the number of scars and the way he carried himself it was obvious to Infidia that he had been a pit fighter and had survived many battles. He identified himself as Brakus and had the slaves organized into groups for weapons practice in short order. Soon the clack of practice weapons could be heard around the yard as men squared off against each other.

At first Infidia tried to play down his skill and fighting power, but he was quickly matched with skilled opponents who pushed him relentlessly while Brakus walked around. Brakus watched all of the fighters, but Infidia could tell that he was really assessing Infidia more than any other fighter. They stopped by mid-day and took another meal this time a stew with some type of mystery meat. After eating they were each given a bucket of water and a rag and ordered to clean themselves and then Infidia and Devon were returned to their pit.

Dusk had just started to fall when they came for Devon and Infidia. By the time they got to the stockade torches had been lit and the stands were already full. The fighters were once again chained to the south wall with a view of the fighting arena and then the fights began. Infidia watched with interest as Devon was matched against a man slightly smaller but much more heavily muscled. They were each given a pair of axes and Devon used his greater reached and speed to good advantage until he stumbled. His opponent brought his ax down on Devon’s left wrist cutting all the way through. Devon screamed and stumbled away. The other fighter lifted his ax to the sky and screamed in triumph, turning around to face the crowd, knowing the fight was over. Devon saw his chance and using all the strength in his right arm threw his ax. Luck was with Devon as the ax hit the other fighter sinking into his back driving him to the sand. Devon jumped forward picking up his opponents fallen ax and as the man started to move Devon brought it down on the back of his head ending the fight. Devon then collapsed next to him from blood loss.

Infidia wondered if he should pity Devon for the loss of his hand or be happy for him; because even if Devon survived the injury his days as a pit fighter were over. The night seemed to drag on then at last Infidia was pulled from the wall and pushed into the pit. Brakus was there and he threw a pair of long swords at Infidia’s feet, Infidia wasted no time picking up the weapons. Then Infidia’s opponent entered the pit. The warrior had the dark skin of a Stygian and stood almost eight feet tall. He already carried a pair of axes which looked small in his hands. There was no time wasted on drama or announcements the Stygian fighter simply charged Infidia.

The first several seconds of the fight were a blur as Infidia fought mostly a defensive battle trying to stay out of ranged and deflect the fighting slave’s blows. Every time Infidia deflected a strike from one of the Stygian’s axes a shiver from the impact ran up his arm. Then the Stygian broke through Infidia’s defense and left a line of blood on Infidia’s left bicep. Knowing that he couldn’t remain on the defensive Infidia launched a series of thrusts and sweeping cuts that pushed the Stygian back on his heels for a moment. Infidia moved quickly to press his advantage. Infidia used his left blade to block an ax strike and while the weapons were engaged brought his right sword down hard on the wooden ax-handle cutting half way through it. Unfortunately Infidia’s blade was stuck in the handle of the ax. With a grunt the giant tossed both the ruined ax and Infidia’s blade to the side so that the now faced each other each with a single weapon.

The Stygian jumped forward and brought his blade down in a sweeping diagonal cut forcing Infidia back. Before the giant could recover Infidia lunged forward and using a back-swing from his left hand sword to cut through the Achilles-tendon at the back of one of the Stygian’s legs. Infidia leapt away barely avoiding the return stroke from the giant. Again they circled each other and only now, Infidia noticed, the Stygian was having trouble move properly on his wounded leg. Infidia fainted low and to the giant’s good side then switched his sword from his left to his right hand in a smooth movement. The Stygian was slow to re-act and for the first time showing fatigue. Infidia figured this was because he was probably used to finishing off his opponents very quickly. Infidia had already pushed him further than he’d been pushed before. Deciding it was time to take a risk Infidia again fainted low, but this time followed it up by unexpectedly jumping high and to the right, driving a thrust down into the Stygian’s shoulder. Infidia didn’t try to keep a grip on the blade as it penetrated deeply and lodged itself into the meat and bone of the Stygian’s shoulder. Instead Infidia allowed his momentum to take him away from the fighter finishing the move in a diving roll that took him over to where the ruined ax and his other sword lay. Infidia placed a foot on the ax handle and wrenched his sword free and spun around to look for the Stygian.

The Giant had turned and took a step toward Infidia with hilt of Infidia’s sword standing upright sticking out of his shoulder while the tip was buried deeply within his torso. The Stygian’s arm hung uselessly at his side and he swayed unsteadily for a second. He then took a shuffling step toward Infidia, then a second, and then slowly sank to his knees his eyes still locked on Infidia’s. Without waiting for another chance Infidia charged across the sand his blade flashing from right to left as he raced past the Stygian in a fountain of blood. When Infidia wheeled back to survey his handiwork he watched the Stygian’s head tumble from his shoulders onto the sand. The crowd roared its approval and Infidia lifted his blade to the sky and screamed his victory to the Gods in a masculine below that echoed around the pit.

Coming down onto the sand Brakus and an older man, who’d obviously been a great fighter in his day but who’d allowed himself to get fat, greeted Infidia.

“Conan, I’m Captain Burgun you fought well today and brought honor to all who fight beneath my sails! Brakus see to it that he is rewarded!”

With that the Captain walked away moving up into the stands and among a crowed of his men who were all cheering at the defeat of Captain Njal’s fighter. Instead of being returned to the chain and lead away with the other slaves Infidia was shackled and taken to a nicer compound with buildings made of wood. He was moved into a cell with a bunk built into one wall and a stool. Infidia was handed a water bucket and rag and left to clean up. By the time he’d finished washing the door opened again and a surprisingly pretty wench entered carrying a tray. The door was closed behind the wench and Infidia heard a key turn in the lock. He now looked more closely at the wench and saw that she also wore a slave collar. Her hair was midnight black and she had all the curves a man could wish for in a woman. She knelt next to Infidia and placed the tray on the floor. When she uncovered it Infidia’s mouth started to water. The tray held a roast bird, bread, roasted potatos, and some apple slices Infidia also noticed that the girl had brought in a wineskin and a pair of cups.

“Conan, my name is Arlinna, I’m yours for the night,” she said looking up at him.

Infidia felt a stirring in his loins at this pronouncement, it was a stirring that had once been strange but had become more and more familiar.

“Don’t fear me girl. I promise I won’t hurt you.”

Infidia reached down to pull off a leg from the bird but Arlinna put a small hand on his stopping him. “Let me.”

Arlinna took Infidia by the hand and coaxed him into sitting on the bed. She then moved to kneel at Infidia’s feet and positioned the tray on the stool so that she could easily reach it. Arlinna then proceeded to feed Infidia. For Infidia this was a strangely erotic experience, having this young beautiful girl kneeling next to him feeding him. As the meal progressed Arlinna grew more confident urged on by Infidia’s failure to take advantage of her. As Arlinna served Infidia her hands would from time to time gently caress Infidia’s powerful bicep or brush against his manly chest. She picked up one of the apple slices and placed it between her white teeth and then brought it to Infidia. As Infidia took the apple from Arlinna she brought their lips together in a tantalizing kiss. This was more than Infidia could stand and he crushed Arlinna’s lips to his in an impassioned kiss.

Arlinna pushed Infidia backward so that he was lying on his back and then straddled Infidia pulling her tunic up and Infidia saw that she wore nothing under it. Then with one small hand Arlinna reached into Infidia’s loin-clothe and pulled his rapidly growing cock out. Infidia gasped at the sensation and couldn’t help but notice how small Arlinna’s hand seemed as she gripped his member. Arlinna then positioned her pussy directly above Infidia’s cock and with one smooth motion impaled herself on it.

Infidia gasped at the warm sensation enfolding his penis. It was like nothing he’d ever imagined and then Arlinna started to expertly rock up and down squeezing his shaft with her inner muscles sending jolts of pleasure into Infidia. It took every bit of Infidia’s concentration not to cum. The moment seemed to go on and on in an agonizing dance with Infidia balanced on the edge between control and release.

Then Arlinna’s inner muscles spasmed and she let out several soft moans of pleasure. Now Infidia rolled Arlinna over and for the first time took charge. Using the strength of his male body Infidia began driving his rock hard cock into Arlinna. The pleasure grew and Arlinna reached behind her own knees to pull them up and apart causing the muscles in her vagina to stretch and tighten even as the new Conan pumped in and out of her. With each thrust Infidia pulled almost all the way out leaving only the tip of his penis inside Arlinna’s pussy and then he plunged his full eight inches back into Arlinna until Arlinna’s clitoris was pressed up against the bottom of his shaft.

Faster and faster Infidia drove into Arlinna the feeling of power and virility along with the sensation of possessing Arlinna grew. It was as though her whole body were merely an extension of his own like they were now one single person. Abruptly Infidia felt himself explode the most amazing orgasm of his life nearly overwhelming his senses.
For a few seconds neither of them could move at last Arlinna looked up at Infidia.

“Conan, you could do that to me all night and I’d not complain.” Arlinna said in a husky voice.

Infidia slowly pulled out of Arlinna and looked down at his semi-ridged cock in amazement. He’d spent many nights under Conan and the Cimmerian had been an insatiable lover. So Infidia wasn’t surprised to see that with a little attention his tool was ready to go again.

Sometime later Infidia lay on his back with Arlinna curled up on her side, sound asleep, her naked breasts pushed up against Infidia her head resting on his shoulder. It was now only an hour or two until dawn and even though Infidia was tired both physically and mentally he couldn’t sleep. His mind whirled as he tried to come to grips with everything that had happened to him. The exhilaration he’d felt when he’d slain the Stygian giant had been something he’d never felt nor understood in his years as a woman, even when he’d defeated bigger stronger male opponents. Now laying here in the afterglow of the best sex of his life Infidia was having trouble remembering what he’d liked about being a woman. The male feeling of power, the urge to dominate, on both the field of battle and in the bed were new and intoxicating. The thought of sex caused his organ to twitch as he remembered thrusting his rod into Arlinna’s ready pussy. And then intense explosion of a man’s orgasm it was an experience that Infidia decided he’d never become tired of feeling.

Suddenly there was a soft rattle at the door and it opened a crack. A woman’s voice hissed, “Infidia are you in here?”

Infidia gently pushed away from Arlinna trying not to wake her.

“No, I’m Conan, who are you?”

The door opened and Infidia could see a figure in a cloak and hood. The figure threw back the hood and in the dim light from the hall Infidia saw his former face. Feeling slightly embarrassed and then angry at being embarrassed Infidia stood up completely naked, his flaccid cock still a specimen as it hung pointing loosely at the ground.

“We’ve no time for games. The guards will change at dawn and they’ll find that the one guarding the door is dead.” Conan hissed.

Infidia reached down and picked up his loin-clothe and stepped into it when he heard a hiss.

“I see you’ve been enjoying yourself.”

Infidia looked at Conan and then over to where Conan was staring at Arlinna’s naked form. He shrugged, “she was a gift for my success in the fighting pit.”

“We’ve got to go.” Conan said turning away and moving into the hallway. Infidia followed and watched as Conan closed and locked the door.

“You might need this,” Conan said handing Infidia the broad sword he’d been carrying when they’d been captured. The sword was in its scabbard with a leather belt wrapped around it.

“How did you get this?” Infidia asked. As he did he buckled the sword around his hips a bit awkwardly since all he was wearing was a loin cloth.

“I’ll explain later, when there’s time.”

Conan was carrying a small oil lamp and she moved forward smoothly passing cells to either side until they came to the body of a guard by the door. He was laying on his back a dagger sticking out of his eye. Conan reached down and pulled it out wiping it clean on the guard’s clothes and then putting it into a hidden sheath. After a moment’s consideration Conan pulled the cloak from the guard’s dead body and handed it to Infidia.

“This should help if someone spots us.”

The night was quiet and the light provided by the moon was enough so that Conan put out the lamp. They both moved stealthily from building to building until they were well away from the group of buildings owned by Captain Burgun.
For a moment they rested in the shadows of a rundown building looking for any sign of alarm or pursuit. The night remained quiet. Finally Infidia couldn’t stand it.

“What happened to you after we were captured? How’d you get the key to my cell?”

“I’ll explain everything once we’re back aboard the Ocean’s Bounty. For now just shut up and follow me.” Conan replied angrily moving away.

They traveled in a zig-zag pattern working their way away from the pirate compound of Captain Burgun toward the harbor. Abruptly Conan froze and then moved with a purpose across the street. She stopped in front of a better maintained building than most of the others in this neighborhood. Without comment Conan went to work on the lock on the door using a set of thief’s tools that Infidia hadn’t known that Conan knew how to use. In a few seconds the door was open and the two slipped inside. Conan now pulled out a ring with several keys on it and tried each on the lock on Infidia’s collar without success. At last in frustration Conan looked around the room. It was obvious to Infidia that they were in a blacksmith’s workshop and in no time Conan found a pair of metal cutters and returned to Infidia’s side.

“We need to get that collar off you before we return to the ship.”

She lifted the tool to the collar and squeezed the handles with all of her strength. Infidia could tell that the cutters were biting into the iron collar but that Conan wasn’t able to cut all the way through.

“Let me,” Infidia said putting his hands on the handles next to Conan’s small female hands and with a surge of strength cut through the collar with a snap.

Infidia reached up and pulled the collar off bending it open in the process. He tossed it to one side and then glanced back at Conan taking more time to look her over. She was wearing her fighting leathers and had thrown a cloak over them covering up her weapons belt where her rapier and fighting daggers hung. On her back was the pack she’d carried from the ship into the town.

“If you’re done staring, I’d suggest we return to the ship.”

“Lead on,” Infidia replied with a grin.

The trip down to the Bounty was uneventful in the early morning hours. They paused in the shadows of a building overlooking the pier where the Ocean’s Bounty was moored. Infidia could see that the ship was in a flurry of activity as it made ready to sail on the morning tide. With their goal in sight Conan and Infidia rushed toward the ship. After they’d gone no more than a dozen steps there was a shout to one side and a pair of rough looking pirates charged out of the shadows. They’d obviously been dispatched to watch the Bounty until she sailed.

With a roar Infidia turned to meet the pirates. As he rushed forward one of the pirates jerked to the side a knife appearing, as if by magic, in his leg. The lead pirate swung a cutlass at Infidia who ducked it and grabbed the sailor’s sword arm at the wrist before he could take another swing. With his free hand Infidia hit the pirate’s elbow shattering it. He then stepped in close and grabbed either side of the pirates head and twisted sharply. The resounding crack told Infidia that he’d broken his opponent’s neck so he dropped the now lifeless body and turned to face the remaining pirate. As he did he saw Conan dance back from a wild swing of the man’s cutlass and then lunge in, with full extension, driving her rapier through the pirate’s chest.

Conan bent over to draw her throwing knife from the man’s thigh and then look over at Infidia with a feral grin. Infidia returned it feeling more alive and comfortable in his body than ever before. Without saying a word the two raced toward the Ocean’s Bounty where Captain Sarl waited impatiently for them.

“Cutting it rather fine aren’t we?” Captain Sarl asked.

“You’ve no idea,” Conan replied climbing aboard. “You’d best get the ship underway as quickly as possible, there are some pirates who’ll be annoyed with us once they find Captain Brugun’s body.”

Sarl looked between the two of them for a moment and then swearing under his breath moved away shouting rapid-fire orders. Infidia climbed to the aft main deck and Conan followed watching the pier for any further sign of pursuit. It wasn’t until they slipped out of the harbor and into the Azure Sea that Conan allowed herself to relax.

“So are you going to tell me how you came to have the key to my cell? Or how it is that Captain Brugun is dead?” Infidia asked.

Conan looked over at him for a minute and then said, “no.”

She turned and headed forward descending to the main deck and then headed forward to her cabin the memories of the last two days still fresh in her mind. Conan shut and latched the door to her cabin with a sigh. Infidia’s question still resounded in Conan’s mind; if she hadn’t caught Infidia in a post coital snuggle with a pleasure slave Conan might have been willing to talk about it. But at the moment Conan wasn’t sure how much of Infidia remained and how much the barbarian had taken control of the new man.

She stared off into space thinking about the fight in the square and then the events that followed. She’d been captured because she’d been stupid! She’d thought that between her skill and Infidia’s brute strength they’d win. She’d fallen into the same trap as Infidia, she’d done what she expected a woman to do, depend on her man to keep her safe. Conan swore that for as long as she was a woman she’d never trust another man to protect her. She’d protect herself! Conan thought back remembering waking up naked chained to a wall waiting for her master and shuddered.

Conan’s head hurt, it reminded her of how she’d felt after a hard night of drinking yet Conan knew that this wasn’t the case. Something was wrong slowly her sleep muddled mind began to function. She opened her eyes, blearily, and saw morning sunlight streaming into the room from a high barred window to the left. She pushed herself up from the straw pallet where she lay trying to look around and make sense of her surroundings. She felt the, still uncomfortable, shifting of her breasts as she moved and realized that she was naked. Conan saw that she was in an iron cage too small for her to stand and barely long enough for her to lie down inside. As she looked around Conan saw that the room had about a dozen similar cages with six along each wall and a walkway down the center. At one end of the room was a wooden door with a small window filled with bars. At the other end of the room was a window high up on the wall, well beyond Conan’s current reach, also filled with bars. It was from this window that Conan could see sunlight streaming into the room.

As Conan looked around the room she counted nine other woman locked into similar cages. They were all naked although none of them had as many bruises as Conan. Conan discovered that she could sit up on the mat without her head touching the top of the cage but that was about as comfortable as she could get. Time dragged by and Conan wondered what had happened to Infidia. She cursed her own stupidity for allowing Infidia to act like a dumb barbarian instead of the cunning fighter she knew Infidia to be. Conan also cursed her own foolishness for not running as soon as the ambush occurred. If she’d gotten away she might have been able to do something to rescue Infidia. Now they were both captured.

After a while some of the other woman began to stir. There were a few moans and here and there a woman sat up and looked around. They looked like they’d been drugged and were trying to shake off the effects. Suddenly the door clanged open and in walked four tall warriors with hard eyes and a pair of women. The women all wore the collars of pleasure slaves but they were older and had that tough cynical quality that only occurs after dozens of years of living hard. Several of the girls squirmed around trying to cover up their nakedness as best they could. Conan resisted the urge realizing that there really wasn’t any point and instead focused on her captors looking for a chance to escape.

“Most of these are headed to the slave auction.” Announced a tall warrior Conan recognized as Imbalayo. “Except for her and her,” Imbalayo said pointing to a raven haired woman and Conan. “These we’ll keep for our own use,” he said with an evil leer.

Conan stayed where she was at the moment there wasn’t anything she could do. Very quickly the eight girls identified for the slave market were pulled out of their cages and chained together via their collars and marched off. Imbalayo stepped up to Conan’s cage with one of the hard-bitten women at his side.

“I’ll enjoy breaking you. Captain Burgun wants you for tonight but he tires of his playthings quickly. Once he’s done I’ll claim you and by the time I’m done no one else will want you.” He gloated.

Conan fought the urge but couldn’t resist and finally asked; “What of Conan? Did your men kill him in the square?”
Imbalayo looked down at her and laughed. “Oh no, your man is quite the fighter. In fact last night, while you slept, he got his first taste of the fighting pits. He did so well that tonight he’ll face Jaggta the Giant. Jaggta has won more than a hundred fights, Conan will die on Jaggta’s ax tonight and while his blood is still hot on the sand Captain Burgun will take you.”

At the look of shock on Conan’s face Imbalayo started to laugh. He then turned to the woman next to him. “Take her up to the main hall. Have her bathed, perfumed, and dressed for tonight. Oh, and she knows something of combat so take no chances.”

“What about the other one,” asked the woman?

“Have her cleaned as well but deliver her to my chamber. I’ll use her before the fighting in the pits and, if she pleases me, again after.”

“As my lord commands!”

Conan got ready to spring forward as soon as the cell door opened thinking only about selling her life as dearly as possible, but her jailors must have been able to guess what she was thinking by the look on her face. Two large warriors settled to either side of the door to her cage, one with a set of shackle and the other with a long choke pole.

“Well lass this can go easy or it can go hard, it’s up to you,” said one of the guards, as he opened the door to her small cell.

For a moment Conan considered attacking, and the odds be damned! But then she resigned herself to biding her time, there would be a chance later, and when it came she would be ready. Conan crawled out of the cell and held her hands out. Conan was quickly shackled and dragged along behind the guards and the mistress of pleasure slaves. They climbed a set of stairs and entered a different part of the building. This area had several windows and looked like a harem out of the exotic east. It had silk curtains hanging from the walls and plenty of couches, pillows, and cushions for the woman belonging to Captain Burgun to use. Conan had never been in such a place, but she’d heard about them during her time as a slave in the east.

Conan was bathed by a pair of the slave girls, which normally would have been an exciting erotic experience for Conan, but now just annoyed her. They chattered to her in an almost non-stop stream of inane commentary as far as Conan was concerned, they talked about how beautiful she was and how exotic her red hair made her and how pale and clear her skin was and how much they wished they had similar traits. Then they brought in a silk dress and helped Conan into it. Next they brought out a cup of warmed wine, to help her relax, and directed her to drink it. At the first sip Conan knew that the wine had been drugged and under the watchful eye of the mistress there was no way she could avoid drinking it. Once she was done the mistress left her alone with one of the other slave girls.

Conan said she needed to relieve herself and the girl showed her where they kept the chamber pot in an alcove to one side of the room. Conan pulled down a privacy curtain and then pushed a finger down her own throat, after the fashion of decadent Nemedia, and caused her body’s gag reflex to bring up most of what had been in her stomach. As soon as she was done throwing up Conan turned around and squatted over the pot using once unfamiliar muscles to empty her bladder covering the sour smell of the drugged wine.

Even having done this time seemed to distort and stretch for Conan she was sure that the drug was affecting her as she lay on a cushioned couch and waited. The room was spinning pleasantly when the door opened and the mistress of pleasure slaves followed by Imbalayo entered.

“She’s drugged?” Imbalayo asked.

“I thought it best after what I’d been told of her capture.”

Imbalayo grunted and strode over to the couch where he grabbed Conan by the arm and hauled her to her feet.

“Come with me lass Captain Burgun wants you to be there when your man falls.”

Conan was dragged into the night and the cool crisp air helped to clear her head while causing her nipples to harden in reaction. As she followed along Conan realized that they were in a compound, of sorts, with several buildings clustered together all belonging to Captain Burgun. Soon they left these buildings behind and headed toward a wooden walled arena, a sight very similar to the fighting pits Conan had fought in as a youth, sending a shiver of memory down her spine. They entered through a little used side entrance and were soon above most of the crowd in a box set aside for Captain Burgun’s use. As Conan looked around she could see that there were eight other such boxes.

Conan was pushed forward and forced to kneel to the side of Captain Burgun’s chair, a chain was run through her collar and then locked to the arm of the wooden chair. Captain Burgun reached out absently with one hand to stroke Conan’s red hair. For a wild second Conan fantasized about reaching up and braking Burgun’s wrist.

“This should be a very good fight. Conan is a fighter and if the Gods favor us he’ll win tonight!” Captain Burgun said leaning forward to watch the spectacle below. Imbalayo grunted in response clearly disagreeing with his leader.

Conan’s breath caught and she sat up straighter when she saw Infidia. Infidia was only wearing a loin cloth and carried a sword in each hand his muscles were standing out in a visual testimony of masculine power. Then Conan hissed out a breath when she caught sight of Infidia’s opponent. Conan’s former body was large and powerful, but the Stygian Infidia faced stood a full head and shoulders taller even if he was less heavily muscled.

The fight started when the Stygian giant charged straight at Infidia. They exchanged a flurry of strikes almost too fast for the eye to follow. Conan found herself leaning forward, one hand moving unconsciously to her mouth in a feminine gesture, as she was swept up in the excitement of the fight. She was immediately impressed with how well Infidia was moving, it was as though he’d been born to wear the body of a mighty barbarian. Then Conan saw the giant draw first blood. She’d missed the blow that had cut Infidia’s bicep, but spotted the cut as it bleed freely. Abruptly Infidia took to the offensive striking and spinning bringing a flurry of steel at the Stygian from different angles and levels. Again Conan was impressed by the skill and strength of both fighters.

Then Infidia made a mistake and his sword became lodged in one of Jaggta’s ax handles. Jaggta tossed both weapons to one side and slashed viciously at Infidia barely missing. Conan's breath caught in her throat, her breast quivering as she leaned forward, "Crom, no" she hissed softly. As the fight resumed Conan could see that the Stygian was becoming fatigued then Infidia got through his defense and bloodied Jaggta’s lower leg. The Stygian giant immediately started favoring the leg as the fight resumed. Once again Infidia took the initiative he fainted to one side and then jumping high so that he could thrust down burying his blade in Jaggta’s shoulder point first. As soon as Conan saw the strike she shouted knowing the battle was over. It took a moment for Jaggta to fall to his knees, but Infidia wasn’t done and after reclaiming his second sword he removed Jaggta’s head with a mighty swing. The crowd of pirates and citizens of Scompiglio were on their feet shouting and cheering Infidia’s amazing display of skill and power.

“Take her to my chamber,” Captain Burgun said to one of the guards standing by the entrance to the box, dismissing Conan without a thought. He then stood up and turned to Imbalayo, “I think it’s time I meet my new champion!”

After Imbalayo and Burgun left Conan was unchained from the Captain’s chair and led back the way she’d come. The cheering of the crowd faded behind them as they returned to Burgun’s compound. This time Conan was led to a new building one that had three floors. The first was obviously a great hall where the pirates ate most of their meals then the next floor consisted of rooms for Burgun’s most loyal men. Most of the top floor was a single open space claimed by the pirate lord with a pair of rooms at the far end, one of which was obviously Burgun's bed chamber. The mistress of pleasure slaves met Conan and the guard at the door to Captain Burgun’s bed chamber along with two other slaves. Conan was forced to stand still as she was once again stripped and draped in a new silk gown. The mistress left the dress that Conan had worn earlier folded neatly to one side. Something for Conan to wear in the morning she said before leaving Conan alone in the bed chamber.

Conan heard the door lock and looked around the room. The two lamps provided enough light for Conan to see that the room had a large round bed with blankets, cushions, and pillows. There was no other furniture in the room although to one side a large silver metal disk riveted to the wall and polish to a high shine. In its reflection Conan saw the beautiful red-headed image of Infidia staring back. She slowly reached up and touched her face still amazed when the reflected woman copied the motion exactly.

Over an inch of lamp oil had burned down before Conan heard a key turn in the lock. She felt her heart start to race when the door opened and Captain Burgun stumbled, obviously drunk, into the room. He made an attempt to lock the door behind him and when he couldn’t get the key back into the keyhole he gave up and tossed the key aside.

“I’m told your name is Infidia, well that’s the name of a free woman, I’m going to call you kitten.”

He waited as though anticipating a response, when Conan remained silent he continued, “Kitten, did you enjoy watching Conan defeat Jaggta?”

Conan felt a flash of rage at the continued use of her name when referring to Infidia, but she squashed the feeling.

“It was an amazing fight! Now, my champion is master of the fighting pit! As a reward your man is in the slave dormitory next to us enjoying the flesh of one of my slave girls just as I’m about to enjoy the flesh of his woman.” Burgun said with a laugh and dropped his belt to the ground. Soon the rest of his clothes joined the belt with the exception of a heavy gold chain around his neck. Conan noticed that the chain had a large gold medallion hanging from it.

“Take off your clothes and lay down!”

Sensing an opportunity Conan complied. However, when she lay down on her back she couldn’t force herself to spread her legs instead she pressed her knees tightly together. Burgun made a low appreciative noise and moved to stand over her. He leaned forward fumbling for her knees in an attempt to spread her legs apart.

Conan moved.

She kicked up the heel of her right foot connecting solidly with Burgun’s chin. The force of the kick caused Burgun to stand up and stumble backward. Conan leapt from the bed moving forward with a spinning step that allowed her to lash out with a powerful back-fist; using legs, hips, and back to add power to the centrifugal force generated from the spin Conan’s fist landed solidly against the side of Burgun’s jaw, as he struggled to recover from the surprise kick. Burgun spun to the ground from the force of the blow and barely caught himself on his hands shaking his head dazed. Conan jumped onto his back wrapping her legs around Burgun’s waist weaving her feet between Captain Burgun’s thighs. Conan grabbed the chain around Burgun’s neck and pulled it as tight as she could and then started twisting the chain, around and around, so that the torque from the twisting motion added pressure to the choke. Conan could tell that the medallion was cutting into the soft skin of Burgun’s neck as she continued to twist it as viciously as she could.

Burgun tried to reach up and pull one of Conan’s arms free, but the angle didn’t allow him to get any force behind the move. The effect of his drinking and the two blows to the head had left Burgun dizzy and he lost his balance collapsing onto his belly unable to hold himself up with one hand. Because of the pressure the only sounds Burgun could make were grunts as he tried to roll over, but because Conan had locked her legs around his waist and used the leverage to push his legs apart, he was unable to do this either.

For nearly ten seconds Burgun struggled until at last he went still. Conan remained where she was and if anything twisted harder on the chain. In the warm yellow light of the lamps Conan could see the chain cutting through a layer of Burgun’s skin and fat and only when Conan smelled the stench of Burgun’s involuntary defecation in death did she release her grip.
Conan’s heart was racing, her skin was flushed, and her nipples were like two tiny erections as a fierce grin spread across Conan's face.

She wanted to shout to Crom in triumph but knew that for now stealth was her best ally. Conan went to one of the windows and looked out into the yard below, there were still pirates out front drinking from wineskins and singing sea shanties. She turned around and examined the room taking in Burgun’s dead body without the slightest bit of remorse. Conan walked over to where the slave mistress had left a dress for her to use in the morning and put it on grateful for the heavier fabric. Conan then went through Burgun’s clothes and found a set of keys, some coins, and a belt knife. Conan picked up the belt and tied it around her slim waist. When there wasn’t a hole far enough up on belt to keep it tight Conan pulled out the belt knife and made a hole of her own. Conan walked over to the silver disk and started trying keys from the key ring on the locked collar around her throat. On her third try the key fit and with a click and the collar opened.

The door was unlocked and Conan slipped out of the room taking a lamp with her. Most of the top floor was open with a fire pit in the center and places to eat and lounge around the sides. At the far end of the room there was a desk with a book shelf to one side. There were only two rooms walled off from the rest of the floor; the room where Captain Burgun slept and a room directly across from the sleeping room. Conan tried one key after another until she found the key to this room and taking a lamp with her she went in. This was obviously Captain Burgun’s treasure room. Conan found her and Infidia’s packs along with their weapons. After thinking for a minute Conan changed into her fighting leathers and buckled her own familiar sword belt around her waist. She then strapped Conan’s broad sword to her pack and dropped Burgun’s gold chain into the pack along with the keys. Captain Burgun must have known where they were staying, Conan thought, which meant that they were going to be ambushed sooner or later even if they hadn’t gone to the market. With a shake of her head Conan dismissed this idea for now. It was time to rescue Infidia!

After making sure there were no threats on this floor Conan settled in to wait. Time seemed to creep by until Conan felt like it must be about than two hours until dawn and went to one of the windows. All was silent now the celebration was over and most of Burgun’s pirates had passed out due to too much wine. Conan glided down the stairs careful to stay in the shadows. Spotting the dormitory referred to by Captain Brugun was easy enough it was the only building with a guard.
It took several minutes for Conan to stalk the guard as he walked his post and ghosting up behind him she reached up and around, in a smooth practiced move, and drove a dagger up to its hilt in his eye. The man let out a startled grunt and his muscles seized up then he collapsed. Conan had waited until the guard was close to the entrance to the dormitory and only had to drag the pirate a few feet to get him inside and out of casual sight.

Conan shook himself chasing away the memories and with a glance around the cabin went over to where a bucket of clean water waited. Removing her leathers she dipped a rag in the water and cleaned herself before putting on a fresh tunic and climbing into her bunk. For several seconds Conan didn’t think she’d be able to sleep, but the rocking of the ship and the exhaustion of the last few days caught up with her and she dropped into her first dreamless sleep since becoming Infidia.

The change, in the ships gentle rolling motion caused by the break water at the head of the channel leading into the port of Costa, brought Conan out of her reverie. It had been a monotonous couple of weeks, as they sailed from the pirate port of Scompiglio, which had been just fine with Conan. She’d needed time to think about what had happened and the more she considered the events, of her time in Scompiglio, the more sure she became convinced that she needed to get out of Infidia’s body as soon as possible. She’d been reacting at first in the way that Conan the Barbarian thought a woman should act. Conan had unconsciously trusted in Infidia’s strength as the male to keep her safe. It was only after Conan had been captured that she’d realized that she had to rely on herself instead of a man. Conan knew that Infidia’s most dangerous weapon was her cunning and if Conan wished to survive she need to use her wits to the fullest. It seemed to Conan this was a lesson that Infidia had known for years and that she’d forgotten when she became a man.

Then about a week out of Scompiglio Conan had awoken to a damp feeling between her thighs. When she looked down she’d discovered a problem that every adult woman had to learn to deal with. Conan to her horror was having her moon-blood. After searching through the pack that Infidia had brought with her Conan found some tightly wrapped rags that, based on the design and cut, were for use during this time of the month. Conan had felt ill with hot and cold flashes and cramps and had refused to leave her cabin. By evening Infidia had come to check on her and after a few minutes understood what was going on. Rather than grin or find amusement in Conan’s discomfort Infidia had offered some advice on how to handle the situation. By the third day her flow had decreased to the point where Conan felt comfortable, if self-conscious, moving around the ship. As embarrassing as her moon-blood had been Conan knew that every woman, of childbearing age, had to deal with it and if they could then Conan was determined that she could handle it as well. But by Crom she intended to only have to handle it once!

However, this wasn’t the reason that Conan needed to return to her natural form as soon as possible. No, the problem was that the longer Conan spent in Infidia’s body the more comfortable she became. Now after three weeks at sea Infidia’s body felt normal, the movement of her breasts as she practiced with her weapons each morning felt natural. The smooth flow of air between her legs in her tight leather pants, pants that hugged her front as tightly as they did her backside, now felt normal. Conan had even started to appreciate the looks of interest from the sailors and most disconcerting of all she found herself watching Infidia as he practiced with his sword. The movement of Infidia’s massive shoulders and his tight firm butt as he jumped and lunged toward imaginary opponents, and the way his massive organ filled the front of his loin cloth, made Conan’s nipples harden and caused a strange moist ach in her loins. At night, lately, Conan had imagined grabbing each of those tight butt cheeks and then wrapping her legs around Infidia’s slim waist as his organ penetrated and filled, ….. Even now Conan had to shake her head to dispel these troubling thoughts.

As Conan stood at the ships rail and considered the return trip she remembered how pensive Infidia had been those first few days out of Scompiglio. They’d both learned a lot, about their bodies and about what made them who they really were. As the days passed Infidia had returned, to some extent, to the routine that Conan had established on the journey out. He’d worked beside and diced with the sailors, but now he also spent more time practicing with his weapons. They’d both taken most of their dinners with Captain Sarl learning of the places he’d sailed and the adventures he’d shared with his crew. When Infidia asked him one night how it was he came to work for Zula he’d responded that he and the crew had had a string of bad luck and had needed a loan to repair the ship. Zula gave him the loan and ever since the crew of the Ocean’s Bounty hadn’t been able to get out from under their debt to Zula. When Conan remarked that with the crew’s share of the treasure taken from the Sea Witches Island they should be able to pay off their debt. Captain Sarl had simply grinned. Then last night, the night before they’d returned to Costa Captain Sarl had told them that once he paid off Zula he planned to resupply the ship and leave. They would be in port for about a week. If Conan and Infidia wanted to sail with Captain Sarl on the Ocean’s Bounty they just needed to show up and he’d take them on.

Now watching the ship maneuver toward its birth at Zula’s pier Conan considered Sarl’s offer. The idea of sailing the Azure Sea had an appeal that she couldn’t shake. Cimmeria is a land locked country and the ocean held a fascination for Conan, but even more after she’d swapped back into her normal body Conan had no intention of staying in Costa. Her introspection was interrupted by the arrival of Infidia.

“We’re almost there,” Infidia said unnecessarily. Conan just grunted in reply.

“I think we need to be cautious in what we tell Zula.” Infidia said placing a hand on Conan’s shoulder.

For a second Conan thought about trapping the hand with one of her own and then striking the elbow to break Infidia’s arm, as a lesson about uninvited touching, but then realized she would be the one living through the recovery. Instead Conan shrugged Infidia’s hand away and turned to look up at him.

“Why should we hide our situation from him?”

“First; because nothing has changed, there are still enemies who’d like nothing better than to take advantage of our condition to attack us. Next; because I don’t fully trust Zula, he might think this is funny, in some perverse way, and refuse to help us. The spell he gave me is one I can’t cast on my own. I need you to claim another crystal as your reward for helping retrieve the grimoires. Once you have a crystal with the astral-projection spell, I’m sure I can return us to our normal bodies and no one will ever know about this.”

Conan looked up at him for several seconds and considered. The plan sounded good but it had risk as well. For one it would mean they’d have to pretend to be each other around people who knew them. That would be much harder than pretending to be each other with people they’d both met at the same time. When Conan voiced her concern Infidia waived it away.

“Zula will want to throw us a feast and he’ll insist we stay as his guests tonight. During the feast he’ll give us our payment in front of his men to show that he honors his word. After the feast we’ll go back to my room and I’ll switch us back. Surely you can last that long as a woman.”

Conan wanted to grind her teeth, it wasn’t that she couldn’t last another day it was just the opposite. Being Infidia had become too comfortable and as the journey back to Costa progressed Conan had started to enjoy the way the sailors treated her with respect and desire instead of fear.

“I’m sure I can survive another day.”

The Ocean’s Bounty tied up to Zula’s pier and in a few minutes a gangplank had been run over the side. By this time Conan and Infidia were waiting each carrying a pack with Infidia carrying the treasure chest wrapped in sail cloth over one shoulder and the grimoires stowed in the pack on his back. They descended to the pier without incident and with a wave to Captain Sarl headed up the cobble stone street toward Captain Drako Zula’s hall. It was early afternoon and there wasn’t much traffic on the street as they walked up hill. Conan had an uneasy feeling, but she couldn’t say exactly what was causing it.

When Conan and Infidia arrived at Zula’s compound Infidia walked up to the pair of guards at the walled gate to the complex confidently.

“Dev, Tal, please let Captain Zula know that Conan and Infidia have returned.” Infidia said. The guards exchanged confused glances and then after looking at Infidia the taller guard saluted.

“Infidia, it’s good to have the Blade of Costa back. Zula is not here but your quarters are untouched.”

Conan suddenly realized that they were confused because Infidia in his body had taken the lead. Conan stepped forward, “it’s good to be back. Please do as CONAN requested and let the sorcerer know we have returned.”

“Yes ma’am, I’ll send a runner to let Captain Zula know.” The guard replied.

“Good, I’ll take Conan and find Brad, I’m sure Zula will want him to stay tonight as a guest so we might as well arrange a suite for him.” Conan said in Infidia’s most authoritative tone.

At that the guard waved them into the compound. As Conan walked into the courtyard she had a flash back to her first visit here. Infidia nodded to a door in the side of a building off to her left and Conan headed over toward it. In a low voice Infidia said, “good job back there, Brad’s office is on the second floor of that building.”

The cool shade was a welcome comfort from the heat of the afternoon sun as Conan and Infidia moved into the building. The buildings in Costa had been designed with thick stone walls, and high ceilings to allow the heat to move up away from the floor, and wide windows offering to catch the cooler breeze from the sea. They found Brad in his office working on a large ledger. Brad was a small bald man in the later years of life and according to Infidia he had been with Zula for nearly a decade.

Brad had stood up when they entered and welcomed Conan warmly back to the hall. He then pulled on a rope not far from his desk, once Conan had explained why they were there, and a servant girl had shown up. Brad ordered her to take Infidia to a guest room on the second floor of the great hall.

Before long Conan found herself in a suite of rooms that had belonged to Infidia before they’d left for the Sea Witch’s Island. There was a room she obviously used to study and practice magic and alchemy, one for sleeping, and another for sitting and meeting with guests. Shortly after Conan had finished inspecting the suite there was a knock at the door. Conan went to it and found Infidia there.

“I thought we should talk before Zula returns.” Infidia said.

Conan stepped aside to allow Infidia into the room.

“Dinner is normally an hour after sunset in the great hall. We should go down together and present the grimoires to Zula tonight in front of his men.”

“Why would we give the sorcerer the books before we receive our reward?”

“He will expect it, besides if Zula wanted to harm us he’s had plenty of opportunity. I’ve seen how he works and he can be treacherous, but he’s never betrayed my trust.”

Conan grunted and turned to look out a window with a great view of the city and the port. She felt rather than heard Infidia move to stand behind her. Infidia was close enough so that Conan could feel the heat from his body.

“Why are you so uneasy? We’ve got the books, defeated every challenge, and now only have to wait to claim our reward.”

Conan couldn’t resist leaning back into Infidia’s strong firm body taking a deep breath full of his masculine scent. Conan felt her face flush and heart speed up, “I don’t know but something about Zula makes me uneasy. My father warned me about magic and those who practice it. I’ve run into their ilk in the east and they are fickle and not to be trusted.”

Infidia placed his hands on Conan’s shoulders and gently turned her around and instead of feeling offended at his touch Conan opened her mouth slightly and looked up to meet Infidia’s eyes. For a moment time seemed to pause, then Infidia lowered his lips to gently brush Conan’s. The soft touch of Infidia’s lips against hers sent a thrill of illicit pleasure coursing through Conan’s feminine form. She wanted to push away, but her body refused to respond, instead she clutched Infidia close running a hand over his hard firm backside while the other hand tangled itself in the hair behind Infidia’s head. The kiss turned more passionate and Conan felt her nipples become as hard as diamonds and an empty ach between her legs made her want to press her knees together and squirm.

Suddenly Infidia swept Conan up in her thick bronze arms and without pausing carried her to the sleeping chamber. Conan wanted to say no, but once again her body betrayed her and instead of talking she twined her arms around Infidia’s neck pulling his lips down to her own. Before Conan knew what was happening she found herself stretched out on her bed with Infidia lying next to her one hand slipping beneath her leather pants to stroke her moist clitoris. Infidia knew exactly what to do to send bolts of pleasure arcing through Conan’s body and instead of protesting Conan arched her back and gripped the covers of the bed with both hands as Infidia slipped a finger insider her.

Her pleasure mounted until it broke in an orgasm that left Conan feeling weak yet needing more. Conan at last gave in fully to the urges of her body and pulled Infidia’s breeches down revealing his engorged organ. For a moment the reality of the situation caused Conan to hesitate. She was a man, yet she wanted more than anything else to take that huge tool and slide it into her aching pussy. Infidia sensing her hesitation pushed Conan down onto her back and with a smooth practiced motion pulled off Conan’s pants. The cold air hitting Conan’s delicate neither region made her gasp and then Infidia was placing the tip of his cock against the lips of Conan’s vagina.

For a second they looked into each other’s eyes, blue locked onto green, and then before Conan could speak Infidia slid his tool deeply into Conan. The sensation of being stretched and filled was a little uncomfortable but as Infidia pulled back the bundle of nerves inside Conan’s vagina was stimulated in a way she’d never dreamed possible. Then Infidia was pushing in again and now the discomfort was replaced with waves of sensation and pleasure. As the rhythm of Infidia’s thrusting built it sent ripple after ripple of pleasure through Conan’s body. Without conscious thought Conan wrapped her legs around her lover so that her clitoris met Infidia's pelvic bone in time with each virile thrust.

As Infidia pounded into Conan her world seemed to shatter then she felt her second and far more powerful orgasm. This only seemed to push Infidia to greater efforts of stamina as he rolled Conan onto all fours and mounted her from behind. Infidia slowly and then with greater and greater speed thrust his engorged cock into Conan's pussy while playing with her clitoris with one hand and massaging her breasts with the other. Again Conan’s pleasure grew, even more quickly this time, and the orgasm that followed made her want to collapse in a loose puddle of quivering flesh.

However, Infidia wasn’t satisfied.

Still impaled on Infidia’s monstrous cock, Conan was once more rolled onto her back and she reflexively spread her legs as far as she could. Now Infida grabbed each legs and pushed them up and apart, so that Conan was doing the splits, her pussy stretched impossibly taunt. Again Infidia went to work slowing the rhythm down using long thrusts so that the base of his cock once again ground into Conan’s clitoris at the end of each thrust and then pulling out so that only the head of his cock remained inside Conan’s pussy. Gradually, Infidia picked up the pace and as the rhythm built Conan felt every nerve that she didn’t know she had become stimulated until her moans of pleasure turned to screams. Infidia suddenly spasm filling Conan’s womb with his hot cum and pushing Conan over the edge, into a world shattering fourth orgasm. Conan nearly passed out from the sensations assaulting her former male mind, he’d never dreamed that a woman’s pleasure could feel so good.

They lay there, bodies and limbs entwined, for several minutes Infidia’s flaccid cock still buried inside of Conan’s pussy. A light sheen of sweet drenched both of them and the smell of their recent activities filled the room.

“I had no idea,” Conan whispered.

Infidia rolled onto one elbow and looked down into Conan’s eyes. “I could do that to you forever my lady and never grow tired of it.”

For the first time instead of feeling angry at being addressed as a female Conan felt something melt inside and she rolled toward Infidia trying to make sure that his cock didn’t slip out as she kissed him. Infidia lifted her head and glanced toward the window as late afternoon light streamed into the room.

“I should leave. We will be summoned by Zula in a few of hours and we both need to clean up first. I’ll think about what you said, it also might be best if it wasn’t common knowledge that we are warming each other’s bed.”

Infidia pushed away from Conan’s embrace and Conan was treated to a new sliding popping sensation as Infidia’s cock slide out of her vagina. Infidia towered over Conan looking down at her naked prostrate body and felt more dominate and alive than he’d ever felt before. Infidia spotted the corner where Conan had thrown his clothes during their passion and walked over to the pile quickly getting dressed. Conan rolled onto her side to watch and felt, for the first time in her life, the slow leak of cum as it oozed out of her pussy. Once Infidia was dressed he turned to Conan.

“There are baths for women on the first floor. You’ve got enough time to get cleaned up and then back up here. There are a couple of dresses in the closet that would be perfect for tonight’s dinner. I like the blue one.”

With that Infidia headed out of the suite in the natural viral stride of a man who’d just gotten laid. Conan had no trouble finding the baths and was glad to see that she had them to herself. After so much time washing had become a normal activity. It felt good to remove the filth from her travels, and the residue of her love making, from her body. Now that the passion had abated Conan was angry with herself she should have never given in to her bodies desires. Conan was also frightened because as she thought about what she’d just done with Infidia she realized that she was day dreaming about a repeat session after tonight’s dinner. More than anything this newly awakened desire scared Conan.

Conan returned to her chamber and deliberately picked out fighting leathers instead of the dress that Infidia had suggested. There was a part of her that wanted to dress in a way that made Infidia happy, but that part was pushed down by the part of Conan that was fiercely independent. Male or female she was still the master or mistress of herself, Conan would decide what she’d wear and what she’d do and to hell with anyone who tried to command her! The knock on her door came earlier than Conan had expected and she opened it to find Brad standing there looking nervous.

“Infidia, Zula is back, he’s in his study, and he would like you to meet him now before dinner.” Brad said.

Conan had no idea where the study was so when she stepped into the hallway she said to Brad. “Please walk with me. I’d like to know what’s been going on in my absence.” Conan tried to present a confident and natural Infidia.

Reluctantly Brad turned and headed off at a quick pace toward Zula’s study. “Things haven’t been so well. First there was a successful attack on Zula’s treasure room and warehouse by powerful unknown forces that turned out to be the servants of a rival magician from Stygia’s dark capital, Thoth Amon. Zulo lost many of his most powerful magical items and a squad of our best men was killed including Marcus our Master-at-Arms. Zula’s prestige and power suffered a deadly blow and the other captains have been like vultures circling for the kill. Your absence also hurt, as your reputation as the Blade of Costa and Zula’s best agent had kept some of the criminal’s within the city away from Zula’s interests. Things crumbled even more and with your absence we’ve suffered two more robberies and our main waterfront warehouse was burned down a week ago. There are rumors that Captain Derek was behind it. Your return is well timed, with the treasure you brought Zula should be able to pay off his creditors and rebuild the warehouse. And with the books you retrieved, containing some of his mother’s most potent spells, Zula should be able to cow the other enemies.”

Conan suddenly felt uneasy their task had been to retrieve the spell books. Any treasure found in the tower had been theirs to plunder by the agreement. “What do you think Zula wishes to discuss with me?”

“I think he’ll want to explain what has happened while you were away and start making plans to punish his enemies.” Brad said with a fierce grin.

They arrived at a heavy black oak door bound with iron and Brad bowed to Conan. “I must continue on, there are many things to attend to this night.”

With that Brad bowed and hurried away not noticing Conan’s puzzled expression. Conan drew one of her daggers and pounded three times on the door with the hilt before sheathing it. The door swung open and Conan saw Zula standing there in a tiger skin tunic, the traditional attire of his Stygian tribe. His dark skin gleamed and his grin was wide as he looked down on Conan.

“Infidia, the Blade of Costa, welcome back! Come in and tell me about your trip.”

Conan stepped uncertainly into Zula’s sanctum looking around the dark room. It was filled with tables and benches containing strange items of glass, wood, and metal that the barbarian Conan couldn’t identify. At the far end of the room a pair of couches faced each other and a set of oil lamps provided a golden illumination, as they hung suspended from the ceiling, near the couches. Zula led the way across the room and draped his large body over one couch lying on his side. Conan unsure of the protocol or how the real Infidia would handle this situation so she sat at one end of the other couch back straight and crossed her legs bringing one of the daggers in the top of her boots close to her hand.

“I see that your voyage hasn’t mellowed you any. Same old Infidia!” Zula laughed. “Come tell your master of your adventures. I assume you were successful.”

“Yes, Conan has the books in his room and will present them to you tonight at dinner.”

At this Zula looked relieved but motioned for her to continue. With a minimum amount of words Conan launched into the story. Leaving out the part where she and Infidia had swapped bodies. At the end of the story Zula clapped his hands in enthusiasm.

“Well done my Blade, well done indeed. Wine? I know you love this vintage.” He asked standing up and walking to a cupboard to one side and pulled out a bottle and a pair of cups. Conan stood and accepted a cup from Zula.

“To success! May all of our endeavors be victorious!” Zula said and drank deeply from his own cup. Conan took a sip enjoying the dry flavor of the wine and the sharp spike of alcohol, nuances of flavor she’d never noticed before the swap.
“Superb!” She said.

Zula looked down at Conan for a minute his grin turning into a more serious look.

“I’m sure by now you’ve talked to Brad and know that my situation here in Costa has become perilous. Your return along with Conan, my mother’s treasure, and spell books will go a long way toward reversing my fortunes. Curse to the pits of hell that treacherous Dog Thoth Amon! He pretended to be my ally and then struck me a cruel blow.”

Conan turned away and feeling a little light headed not from the alcohol, but from the obvious sign of betrayal. When she looked back Zula had also returned to his couch and was watching Conan closely.

“It’s my understanding that Conan was told he could keep any treasure he found in the tower along with ten thousand gold crowns as a reward.” Conan said carefully in a neutral tone.

“Worry not about my deal with Conan, Infidia. I am surprised you expected me to keep it. What do I care for my word to a crude barbarian? No, I will accept my grimoires from him tonight and then before the night is out Conan’s life’s blood will fall.” He said finishing his wine. “My concern is more about you. You spoke fondly of Conan during your tale, have you feelings for this barbarian or can you do what is necessary?”

Conan met Zula’s eyes when she spoke, “I’m always able to do what’s necessary. But we haven’t spoken of my reward.”

“No we haven’t, so what would you have of me?”

“The magic crystal I used to spy out your mothers tower, I’d have another. The ability to project my spirit invisible to all is very useful.”

“Ah, I can certainly create another, but I’ve got a better gift,” Zula said standing up and walking over to a bookshelf. “Here my apprentice, this is a book on the art of astral projection. I will teach you how to caste these spells and how to create your own crystal if you wish. From the moment you walked into my sanctum I could tell that something was different about you! You’re stronger, both in spirit and in magical power, than you were before the journey. I’m confident you’re strong enough to master these spells and having an apprentice who can use astral travel will be very valuable to me. I approve of your modesty and self-effacing choice.”

Conan accepted the book feeling horribly frustrated, she didn’t want to study a damn book or learn from Zula how to do this magic; she just wanted another crystal! In a last attempt Conan spoke up with honey in his voice, “this is more reward than I’d hoped for wouldn’t it be simpler to just gift me with an enchanted crystal?”

“Simpler yes, but as I said the more skilled you become the more valuable you are to me. Do not forget; all that you are, all that you have, and all that you might yet become is by my favor. Without me you would only be a woman, skilled with a blade, but still only a woman. Now let’s go down to dinner.”

Conan followed discreetly behind and to the left of Zula, and for a second had to fight the urge to put a knife in his back, as they walked to the great hall. As they got closer Conan could see the light and hear the sounds of the men gathered there. The huge room was brilliantly lit with torches in scones high up on the walls. A long table dominated the center of the room running the length of the hall; Captain Zula’s men had taken their places on both sides of this table. On a low dais another smaller table had been set perpendicular to the great table with two empty seats. As Zula entered the sound of conversation ceased and the noise of chairs and benches being pushed back filled the air as Zula’s men stood up.

“All hail, Captain Zula!” they shouted, some more enthusiastically than others.

Conan followed Zula to the head table where she saw that places had been set for her, ‘Conan’, Brad, and two of Zula’s lieutenants who she didn’t know. Zula went to his place and lifted his cup high. Each of the men followed his example and Conan slid into her place, to the left of and next to Zula, and lifting her cup as well.

“To my guest of honno, Conan a warrior from Cimmerian, may your fame and glory continue to rise!” Zula shouted drinking from his cup.

The men in the hall followed Zula’s example and drank deep.

"To Infidia, The Blade of Costa, and your success!" Zula shouted once again drinking deeply from his cup.

After the toast Infidia reached down and lifted a large bag made of sailcloth and deposited it ceremoniously in front of Zula.

“You sent us to retrieve your inheritance. Here are the books you desired.” Infidia said with Conan’s powerful tones. Zula clapped Infidia on the shoulder in a friendly fashion and opened the bag pulling out the pair of spell books. Zula’s lustful grin was wide and bright in his dark face.

“Ah Conan, I see that your skills were not exaggerated! When you return to your room you’ll find a chest with the ten thousand gold coins you were promised!” At this Zula’s men pounded the table in enthusiasm.

Zula looked around and then cried in a loud voice, “let the banquet begin.”

At that servants seemed to almost magically appear bringing covered trays into the room to serve the men. As the food was set before Conan she burned to warn Infidia that this was all just a trap but there wasn’t an opportunity. Zula immediately engaged Infidia in an animated conversation about their adventure and the fight on the Sea Witch’s Island. Infidia smoothly answered all of his questions appearing relaxed and masculine, in fact if Conan hadn’t known better she would have sworn that Infidia had always been a strong male warrior. There were a couple of times during the conversation where Conan could tell Zula was testing Infida checking his story. He did not trip up. Conan and Infidia had had plenty of time to rehearse. As the dinner progressed Conan got more frustrated by her inability to talk to Infidia and with the quantity of ale Infidia was consuming. The night wore on and the ale and wine flowed so that Zula’s men were showing the effects. At last the meal was over, but now it was time for entertainment! A troubadour stepped forward and started to sing, Conan had had enough and slipped quietly and unnoticed from the room.

Conan knew that Zula and Infidia would be in the great room for a while drinking, singing, and being entertained. She hurried to her room and opened the spell book on astral projection. Conan knew nothing of magic, but she did know how to read and she skimmed through the book quickly looking for a description of the crystal Zula had given Infidia for the trip to the island. After nearly thirty minutes Conan found what she was looking for. She made sure to read the description twice and then closed the book and headed as stealthily as possible to Zula’s sanctum.

There weren’t many servants our guards about, probably because of heavy losses Zula had recently suffered, so getting to the sanctum unobserved proved easier than Conan had thought. The door was locked but Conan felt sure that it wouldn’t pose an obstacle instead she scanned the area around the door looking for the telltale markings of a ward. Conan almost missed it, but there at the top of the arch she spotted a series of geometric lines cut into the stone and felt the tingle of magical power when she put her hand close. Conan dug into her belt pouch and pulled out some candle wax and with quick efficiency filled in several of the lines marring the rune. Then with a deep breath trusting that the lessons she’d gotten from Infidia would hold true, went to work picking the lock. In a few moments Conan was inside the sanctum. It was as black as the abyss so Conan paused to pull out a candle stub and using her dagger and flint struck it to light. By the dim light of the candle Conan quickly took an inventory of the room. As soon as she spotted the crystals she felt her heart race.

Conan extended her hand trying to feel for any magical emanations. To her disappointment she realized that they were all probably un-enchanted. Still these stones were prepared to receive spells or at least Conan thought so based on what she’d seen in in the spell book. Perhaps Infidia could use the book and the crystals to replicate the magic that had trapped them in each other’s bodies. Conan scooped up the half dozen crystals and dropped them into her belt pouch and then exited the chamber making sure to lock the door and remove the wax from the glyph.

Once back in her rooms Conan quickly packed everything she’d need and headed out to wait for Infidia in his assigned quarters. Conan was extra cautions now since the hall had grown quiet most of Zula’s men must have either passed out or returned to their lodgings.

Conan descended a spiral staircase that would take her to the floor where Infidia’s room was and paused when she heard a scuffle at the bottom of the stairs. Moving slowly and silently to the bottom Conan peeked around the corner in time to see two of Zula’s guards half carrying, half dragging, a nearly unconscious Infidia out of his room. Conan didn’t know where they were taking Infidia, but remembering Zula’s comments she knew that she was his only chance. Conan followed as quietly as possible.

The guards took the semi-conscious Infidia down another set of stairs passing the ground floor and descending into the basement. Conan was aware of the fact that she didn’t know this building well and had no idea where they were taking Infidia, but if Infidia was going to survive the night she knew she needed to keep up. Once they got to the basement Conan had to hang back not wanting to be spotted. The guards took Infidia down a long hallway past several rooms that might have been used for either storage or cells as far as Conan could tell. Then they stopped before a blank section of wall. Conan had to duck back to avoid being spotted. When she peered back around the corner Conan saw that the wall had opened into the doorway of a hidden tunnel and the two guards were dragging Infidia within.

Conan moved forward silently and swiftly getting to the door before it fully closed and she slipped inside. The passage was rough-hewn from living rock and angled down slightly. Every fifty feet along the passage was a glass globe in a scone that glowed with a soft red light casting an eerie sort of illumination on the tunnel floor. Unfortunately for the guards they spotted Conan the second she entered the tunnel.

“Infidia, what are you doing here?” The first guard asked letting go of Infidia’s arm to straighten up.

Conan didn’t waste any time answering; she reached into one of the specially designed pockets in her belt and pulled out one of the pellets Infidia had developed. With a flick of her hand Conan sent the pellet into the guard’s chest closing her eyes. The flash was so bright that Conan could see the light even through her closed eyes and the crack of the device exploding was compounded within the confines of the tunnel making Conan’s ears ring. Still she’d been prepared for this and when she opened her eyes she was already moving forward. While the two guards where momentarily stunned Conan drew her rapier and lunged forward driving the point of her blade into the throat of the larger of the two guards. With a nasty twist of her wrist she returned to the guard position, ripping the man’s throat open, the wound immediately started to rhythmically spurt blood.

The second guard dropped Infidia’s arm and grabbed a two headed ax from his back and stumbled forward clearly still not seeing well. Conan knew that in the confined space of the tunnel the guard wouldn’t be able to swing his weapon properly and lunged forward fainting high. The guard reacted by bringing his ax up to block and Infidia directed her lighter swifter weapon into a low line driving its point into the guard’s thigh. With a cry the guard tried to bring his ax down on Conan’s wrist, but she was already dancing back out of range. Then Conan flicked her left hand forward sending a throwing knife toward the guards face. This time he was able to get his ax up to block and Conan blurred forward driving her rapier through the guards heart before he could bring his weapon down to defend.

Conan stepped back and watched the guard as it took nearly a second for him to realize he was already dead and then pitched forward. Now Conan moved past the guards to a dazed Infidia and roused him with a ringing slap.

“What, what’s going on? Conan?” Infidia tried to sit up looking around blearily.

“You were drugged at the dinner you fool. I’ve been trying to tell you all night. Zula has no intention of fulfilling his bargain. He plans to kill you and take the treasure we brought back from the Sea Witch’s Island for himself.”

Infidia rolled over and emptied his stomach onto the stone floor. After a minute he pushed himself to his feet when he noticed that his hands were bound with thick ropes. Infidia silently held up his bound hands and Conan stepped in drawing Infidia’s sharp curved fighting dagger. The blade made short work of the ropes and once free Infidia struggled to his feet extending one hand to the wall for balance.

“Are you telling me that Zula just tried to kill me?” Infidia asked shakily.

Frustrated with Infidia’s drug addled wits Conan blurted out, “yes, you fool, and what are we going to do about it? Do we run or fight? If we run I’m sure Captain Sarl will take us on.”

Infidia nodded already starting to look better; he reached down and picked up the double headed war ax from where the guard dropped it.

“What about the treasure chest? Zula wins if we abandon it.” He said. “Are you so gutless now that you’re a woman that you are giving up what we won with our blood and the death of those sailors?”

Conan paused for a minute unable to speak, over her indignation, at the accusation of cowardice. “We can always steal or earn more money, however it galls me to let Zula win and be cheated. By Crom if you think we have a chance then I’m in!” Conan said.

Infidia's feral grin was his answer. “Look you, most of Zula’s men are dead drunk and he thinks he’s disposed of me. We have the element of surprise and he won’t dream that ‘Infidia’ will betray him.”

As they headed back through the dungeons Infidia explained his plan. For the first time Conan detected the sound of real anger in Infidia’s voice. Conan took this as a good sign since it meant that the drug must be mostly out of Infidia’s system and he was starting to think clearly again. Soon with chains that were not fastened, but only wrapped about his wrists Infidia, Conan, and three guards loyal to Infidia’s gold headed towards Zula’s quarters. Where two of Zula’s dark skinned warriors stood guard.

Conan called in a loud voice, “I’ve caught Conan, he almost escaped.”

When Zula came out to see what was going on he cursed long and fluently. “Do I have to do everything myself?” He snarled.

Then before they could react their allies cut down the guards and Infidia threw the fake bounds off and whirled an ax at Zula’s head. Zula made a magic gesture and not only did the ax stop, but the mighty frame worn by Infadia was suddenly paralyzed. As planned, Conan hurled a knife with deadly accuracy at Zula who was barely able to deflect; even with his powers he still received a nasty gash on his check.

“Treachery!” he screamed. “You, too Infidia! First Thoth Amom and now you. Is there no honesty in the world?”

“You're one to talk,” said Conan looking for an opening. “Come on boys we can take him together!”

But when she looked the three guards Infidia had bribed were backing away from the enraged Zula fear evident on their faces. Most of Zula’s men had never seen his magical power and now faced with Zula’s sorcery they obviously wanted to flee. Zula focused his rage on Conan.

“I nurtured a viper in my bosom. Conan I will kill quickly, but you will die a thousand deaths.” Zula said looking both angry and confused.

“You would choose this crude smelly Barbarian from the north over me? I’m the one who trained you and made you my agent! You are now one of the most feared swords in Costa. I’ve taught you magic and alchemy and you would spurn my gifts?” Zula shouted his volume increasing with his rage, his attention now solely focused on Conan. Conan noticed that Infidia had closed his eyes and that he was chanting softly under his breath. Feeling a surge of hope Conan looked back to Zula who’d just finished his rant and now stood between Conan and Infidia.

“You are a treasonous poisonous dog, Zula! You had a bargain with Conan and instead of honoring it you planned to murder him and steal the treasure he brought back. I’d gladly stand beside someone I can trust over a snake like you!” Conan accused.

“I will have your tortured remains mummified as an example of what happens to those who cross Drako Zula!” Zula shouted.

In his fury Zula ignored ‘Conan’ whom he thought magically bound. A huge shadow fell across Zula. The sorcerer turned his head to look behind him, but only had the time to start to form a shout. Like an ancient avenging god of the frozen north Infidia brought her ax around in a sweeping arc striking Zula’s head from his shoulders with one mighty blow. For a second Zula’s body remained upright and then it crumpled to the ground. A stunned silence filled the wide hallway. Then Infidia jumped forward and grabbed Zula’s head by its strip of hair and using the head beat the gong next to Zula’s door.

“Hand me the crystals,” he said to a relieved, but puzzled Conan who complied hopeful that soon she’d be back in her own mighty frame and the nightmare prison of soft flesh a fading dream. The hallway had begun to fill with sleepy hung over men who were looking around for some kind of threat.

To the crowd of men Conan proclaimed, “Zula that treacherous sorcerer is dead! I’ve made a deal with Captain Derek so we will have peace between us. I am now the Captain here. Do any gainsay me?” None did!

“Now we have a great warrior running things instead of sneaky sorcerer. Long live Captain Conan, the mighty warrior!” Shouted Brad!

“CAPTAIN CONAN! CAPTAIN CONAN! CAPTAIN CONAN!”

The lovely mouth Conan was using dropped open stunned by this announcement. Things were spinning out her control. Infidia smiled a grim smile at her and rolled Zula’s head across the floor toward his once loyal men who laughed and kicked it around. Infadia then dumped crystals, Conan had given him, onto the floor. With a powerful stomp Infidia crushed them under his mighty foot.

“I CONAN, now claim the wench, INFADIA, as MINE!”

The crowd laughed and cheered as ‘Conan’ wrapped an arm around the lovely red headed woman.

Suddenly everything clicked into place for Conan. Infidia had known these men for years, he knew how to manipulate them and who to bribe. Treachery was the life’s blood of sorcerer; Infidia must have used the time before the feast to bribe a few of the guards to switch sides if the opportunity presented itself. He’d probably used some of the treasure from the Sea Witch’s Island and then had pretended to be overcome by the drug in his ale. Once Zula thought he held the barbarian in bonds of magic he’d turned his back on Infidia to deal with Conan who he thought was his rebellious apprentice. That gave Infidia the chance to chant the counter spell and once free take Zula’s head.

Conan saw it all in a moment of clarity. This gave Infidia the two things he desired. First access to all of Zula’s magical knowledge and power as a Captain of Costa and second the body of a powerful male warrior! Without Conan’s body Infadia would never have been able to gain and keep the loyalty of the men, no matter how much gold was offered. It also meant that Conan was trapped in Infidia’s body! To her horror she realized that she was, in this moment of betrayal, aroused! If Infidia were to pick her up and take her right now in front of all of his men, she’d squirm eagerly into his embrace. Conan knew that she could no longer deny the desires of her body. Staring down at the dead sorcerer, the full implications of the trap were revealed to Conan and the only thing Conan could say was:

“CROM!!”

Infidia laughed and kissed Conan hard!

“Crom is a hard, cold god, and does not often answer, little one,” he said.

Note: This was a fun story to write. Is there any interest in seeing what happens to Conan after Infidia’s trap has been sprung? - Zapper

 

By Zapper

 

Synopsis:  Special Agent Scott Irons is a mutant with the Special Mutant Affairs Command and is on a mission to help infiltrate a gang with criminal ties to a terrorist group in the Philippines.  Things don’t go according to plan and Scott quickly finds himself over his head.  Bodies are swapped and identities are stolen in this tale of action and betrayal. 

Author note:  The rules governing mutant classifications for this story might seem similar to other stories or universes, however I didn’t follow anyone else’s cannon. 

• Class A Mutant: One who’s change is limited to a permanent change to the mutant’s body:  A mutant who has blue fur, an extra set of arms, or cat’s eyes.  
• Class B Mutant: A mutant whose power limited to his body-Shapeshifting, strength, speed, super senses, regeneration . . .
• Class C Mutant: A mutant who has gained a type of psi-power:  Telepathy, empathy, far-sight, astral projection, precognition . . .
• Class D Mutant: Energy manipulation - Shoot lasers from his eyes, or blasts his enemies with fire, teleportation, force shields, telekinesis, elemental control, energy absorption . . .

 

 

The rain was a steady annoying drizzle, just enough to obscure visibility, but not enough for Scott to turn on his windshield wipers.  ‘At least traffic is light this far out from the city,’ Scott thought, as he turned onto the private road that led to the “Farm.”  The entrance was easily missed unless you knew what you were looking for due to the wildlife that had been allowed to grow along the public road.  Scott’s first impression had been that this was a place seldom visited.  It was an impression the Agency had deliberately cultivated. 

The private road made a sharp turn to the right and Scott lost sight of anything except the dense underbrush and overhanging trees.  Here the rain was almost unnoticeable and Scott was forced to turn on his headlights in the pervasive gloom.  The agency’s security team would now have him under observation and Scott knew how jumpy they could be so he maintained a slow steady speed.  After a few minutes the road turned to the left and Scott slowed to a stop in front of a heavy wrought iron gate that blocked the drive.  In prominent view was a sign with bright red letters that read:

Scott stopped his Corvette next to a kiosk and rolled down his window.  The cold damp air of the Pacific Northwest invaded the warmth of his car causing Scott to suppress a shiver.  He pressed his index finger against the digital reader and typed in his PIN.  A second later a metallic sounding male voice said, “Good morning, authentic please; Budweiser.”

Scott glanced at his watch checking the date.  It was the 3^rd of April.  This month they were using beer on the odd days and cars on the even days.  “Special Agent, Scott Irons; Sierra Alpha 33 Delta Alpha Alpha tack Delta Charlie; Corona.” He replied, using his team identification code and the next type of beer in the alphabet.

After a pause the voice replied, “Agent Irons, you are authenticated and cleared to proceed.”  With that the gate started sliding to one side with a faint clanking sound.  Scott drove through the gate and after a few minutes he cleared the tree line.  The road now sloped down and then leveled off before leading to the “Farm.”  The compound ahead of him didn’t look like a farm.  It consisted of a series of low brick buildings and an oddly large parking lot.  The whole thing was surrounded by a chain-link fence with barbwire along the top.  It was called the “Farm,” Scott had been told, because it had once been a secluded farm before the agency bought the land.  They’d wasted no time in knocking down the original buildings, but the name had stuck. 

When Scott stopped at the next gate it was manned by a pair of tough looking security guards wearing green digi-cammies.  “ID card?”  The guard asked, while his partner covered Scott with his M-4.  Scott handed him the card and the guard placed one end of it into a handheld device.  There was a pause and then the device beeped indicating that it had read the chip embedded in the card.  The guard now extended the device toward Scott.  Without being prompted Scott leaned forward to look into the glass plate on the top of the device.  After a moment there was a second beep as the device completed the retinal scan and a light turned green.  At this the guard handed Scott his card.

“You’re cleared, have a nice day, sir.” 

Once through the Entry Control Point (ECP) Scott drove to the parking lot and noticed that the rain had turned into a light mist.  It was mid-morning and the lot was only half full so finding a spot wasn’t a problem.  Even so Scott was now in a hurry.  He’d spent the last month on R&R waiting for an order to report to the farm.  It had finally come in yesterday in the form of a simple text. 

Report to work. 3 Apr; 10:00 (L)

He’d needed the downtime to decompress from the cluster fuck the last mission had turned into, but after two weeks he’d been ready to return to duty.  He hated D.C. in general and politics in particular.  It was even worse when politicians got directly involved with an operation.  Scott shook his head just because you were the Chairman of a committee with oversight of the Agency didn’t make you qualified to run an Op or interfere with field work.  When he’d checked in he’d been instructed to wait until contacted to return to work and that he’d been reassigned.  The agency was forming a new team, SA33DAA-DC, and they’d let him know when they were ready.  Most of the members of the agency wouldn’t know what it stood for unless they had the clearance.  Scott, however, had the clearance and knew based on the nomenclature that this was going to be an interesting assignment.  The SA stood for Special Access which was nothing new for Scott.  It simply meant there would be very few people who would know the full scope and nature of the missions they’d be assigned.  The first 3 was a standard code for operations and the second 3 meant this was the third operations team in the special access operations section of the agency.  The DAA stood for Direct Action Authorized.  This was agency speak for the team was authorized to use lethal force when on mission at their own discretion.  But the, “tack Delta Charlie” was new for Scott but he knew it stood for Deep Cover. 

Scott walked into the operations building passing quickly through a security check point and headed to the elevator.  Since this was a single story building most people would have found it odd to have an elevator, but Scott was used to odd things when it came to the agency.  The doors slid open and Scott pressed his hand to a glass plate above a bank of buttons.  There was a ding and three of the five buttons lit up.  Scott pushed the button labeled “T” and the elevator began a smooth descent into the underground labyrinth. 

When the door opened Scott saw on the wall across from the elevator the Great Seal of the Special Mutant Affairs Command (SMAC).  SMAC was the direct action arm of the Mutant Affairs Agency (MAA).  Ignoring the ostentatious symbol Scott walked down the corridor not seeing anyone he recognized.  Feeling ready to get back into the thick of things he headed to the team briefing room.  He had to swipe his ID card and type in his PIN before he heard a click as the door unlocked.  When Scott stepped in he noticed that he wasn’t the first person here, even though he was ten minutes early. 

“Kevin!  I thought you were working out of the Atlanta Office.” Scott moved forward offering his hand. 

“Scott, God, now I know I’m in trouble!”

Scott felt his hand engulfed by the lager man’s callused grip.   “Hey, that was just bad luck.  And you’re one to talk, weren’t you in Panama when that mutant terrorist group attacked the canal?” 

“Sure, and if you’d read the report then you’d know I was the one who stopped them!” Kevin replied, laughing and lifting his hand to make a fist.  For a second his dark skin appeared normal then he spread his fingers and electricity arced between them. 

“Care to shake,” he said, extending his hand to Scott. 

Before Scott could respond a woman’s voice said, “Same old Taser.” 

At this Kevin laughed and moved around Scott to greet the tall thin blonde woman wearing a white lab coat. 

“Dr. White, it’s good to see you!  I didn’t know you’d be on the team.”  Kevin exchanged a warm handshake with the doctor and then turned back to Scott.  “Scott, this is Dr. Debbie White, she was our team doc, when I was working out of the D.C. office.”

Dr. White stepped around the big African American agent to give Scott a slow once over.  “Agent Irons, or should I say Eros?  I’ve heard about you.”

For a second Scott thought about offering her a hand but changed his mind since she knew his code name.  “Nice ta meet ya Doc.”  He touched two fingers to his temple in a mock salute. 

“Hi, I’m Chris Collins, I go by CC.”  At this Scott noticed that a young man had come in with the doctor.  He couldn’t have been more than five feet tall with a lean almost androgynous frame.  New team dynamics always being a little awkward Scott moved over to Chris and extended his hand hoping to make him feel welcome.  He was surprised at how soft Chris’ hand felt.  This wasn’t the hand of an operations agent. 

“So what do you do for the agency, Chris?” 

“I’m a C8 mutant.  However, I’m limited to just two primary psionic talents.”

“I see, and what are. . .” Scott started to ask only to have Dr. White clear her throat.

“I think we should wait until the rest of the team is here before getting into that, CC.” 

At her comment Chris seemed to wilt, “Yes, ma’am.”  

Scott glanced back and forth between Chris and Dr. White unsure about what was going on.  Sensing his friend’s confusion Kevin spoke, “Debbie is more than just a doctor, she’s also the team trainer.  In addition to specializing in mutant physiology she is also a mutant.” 

Before Scott could respond the door opened again and two more figures entered the room.  Scott instantly recognized Director Cox the new SMAC chief.  Even though he’d recently been promoted into the position he’d worked for decades in SMAC.  His rise from running the training and administration arm to director had been surprising to most agents.  He was a tall man with a face that looked like it had been carved from granite.  His dark hair was touched with silver at the temples but he emitted a masculine vitality that was almost tangible.  Out of the corner of his eye Scott saw Dr. White blush slightly and nod toward the director.  She seemed flustered by his presence. 

“Agents, please have a seat.” 

As Scott moved to take a seat at the table he had his first real look at the brunette who’d followed the Director into the briefing room.  She had the athletic build of someone who was into CrossFit and a quiet air of competence that Scott had learned to associate with experienced field agents.  She also looked very young, probably only a year or two out of the academy.  She wasn’t particularly pretty.  Her facial features were an odd mix of too much nose, low cheek bones, and too much chin.  The term, “Horse face” popped into Scott’s mind.  She was also missing the curves that Scott preferred in the women he dated.  Once they were seated around the table the Director started talking. 

“This is Special Agent Rhonda Torres.  She is your team leader.  Rhonda, please begin.” 

The director’s words caught Scott off guard he’d been expecting to be the team leader.  He quickly suppressed those thoughts and looked at Rhonda. 

“You’ve each been selected for this mission based on a review of your psychological profile and mutant abilities.  Each of you is a mutant with a power rating of 4 or higher.  However, it will be Chris’ power that is key for this assignment, although each of you has a talent that will be needed for the mission.” 

Scott glanced at Chris and then back at Rhonda, “What exactly is the assignment?  And what do you mean each of you?” 

Rhonda gave Scott a level look, intended to quiet him down, and continued.  “This is a special access black Op.” She said, without needing to since all of the agency’s operations in this directorate were considered ‘black.’  Rhonda paused as if to make sure she had everyone’s attention.  “The only people who know what I’m about to tell you are in this room.  You will all be answering to me and I report to Director Smith.” 

An op this tightly compartmentalized wasn’t odd but Scott couldn’t resist the urge to annoy Rhonda.  There was something about her serious brass-tacks approach that rubbed him the wrong way. 

“So what do we do if something happens to you?”

“It’s your job, Agent Irons, to make sure nothing happens to Agent Torres.”  Director Cox said giving Scott a hard look. 

At this Scott nodded.  Cox had only been the director for six months but he had a ruthless reputation.  Scott remembered going through his training program when he’d joined . . . Surviving that six month course had been harder than anything Scott had ever done in the field. 

“We’ll be going after a mutant gang known as the Fists of Anarchy located here in Seattle.  They have been dealing a new drug called, “Bliss” for the last six months and have recently been recruiting expensive mutant mercenary muscle.  Our job is to find out why and either pass the information on to local law enforcement or to stop them if needed.” 

“Why does the SMAC care about a local mutant gang?”  Kevin asked.  “Isn’t this something the FBI or the U.S. Marshals could handle?”

“They came onto our radar because they’ve been bringing the drugs in from Malaysia, Kuala Lumpur, to be exact.  The money from the trade is being used to fund a mutant terrorist group in the Philippines.  The agency doesn’t care about the local gang, but we need to end the cash flow financing the terrorist ring.”  Then the Director added, “But now, with this new development, we are concerned that they might try something big here in Seattle.”  After he spoke the room was silent for a few seconds.  Then Rhonda picked up a remote control and hit a button. 

At the front of the room the video wall came alive.  The image on the screen was of an extremely attractive woman with fiery red hair.  She was wearing tight fitting dark leather and her hair was moving in a halo around her head in defiance of gravity as she floated a few feet off the ground.  But that wasn’t the most disturbing thing about the picture.  The woman was splattered in gore and lying on the ground around her were the dismembered bodies half a dozen soldiers. 

“This is Cindy Snow, aka - Carnifex.  She’s a high priced Merc with dozens of confirmed kills and even more unconfirmed.  We don’t have a full report on her powers but she’s a powerful E-Class energy manipulator and might have physical powers that could be either a B or C class mutant.  Don’t take her lightly she could be as high as a level seven or eight.” 

Rhonda glanced around the room before continuing.  “She’s extremely dangerous however, she’s got a weakness.  Apparently, she’s really into sex and I mean really into it.  She’s been observed participating in orgies and from reports we’ve put together she tries to get laid once a day.  We’re not sure if it’s a factor of her mutation or just a lifestyle choice, but she goes through men faster than most women change their socks.” 

“Well, that explains why Eros is here,” Kevin said, looking over at Scott with a smirk. 

Scott shrugged, “I can’t help it if women love me, but I thought I was here to protect Agent Torres.”  

“I disagree,” Dr. White chimed in, “as a C4 Projective Empath, I’d say you can control how women feel about you.  A pity your ability is limited to the opposite gender.”

At this Scott affected a hurt expression. “Doc, I’m not just a C4 Empath, I’m stronger and faster than a norm, low velocity bullets don’t hurt me and I can regenerate from most wounds in minutes to hours depending on how serious.  That makes me a hybrid, B6-D4 mutant.”  

At this Rhonda interrupted, “We’ll go over each agent’s abilities later.  For now I need you to focus.”  Once she had their attention she continued, “The mission is a Delta Charlie, or a Deep Cover mission and Carnifex is the key.  According to Intel she’ll be in Seattle by next week, ten days from now at the most, and will need to make contact with the Fists.  Our job is to intercept her before she makes contact and replace her with one of our agents.”

“Ah,” Scott said with a smirk and a glance at Rhonda.  “That means you must be a shapeshifter.”

“I’m not a mutant,” Rhonda replied haughtily.

“Then how will we replace Carnifex?” Scott asked.  “I can’t shape shift and Taser there is an D7 energy manipulator and very good at zapping people.  But he can’t do undercover work.  The doc isn’t a field agent and neither is Chris.”

Before anyone could reply Director Cox cleared his throat.  “You’re correct Agent Irons but we won’t be needing a shapeshifter, we’ve got something better.”  At this he nodded to Rhonda, “Please continue Agent Torres.”

“Eros, you’ll make contact with Carnifex.  You shouldn’t have any trouble seducing her.  Once you’ve got her alone and off guard we’ll capture her and I’ll take her place.  After that I’ll make contact with the Fists and bring you along as my boy-toy.  The mission parameters are deep cover.  The objective is to get actionable intelligence on the terrorist group operating out of Mindanao.”

“You’ve said you’re not a shapeshifter, that you’re not even a mutant.  How will you replace Carnifex?”  Kevin asked, sounding puzzled.  “You look nothing like her.”

“That’s where I come in,” CC said, speaking up.  When Rhonda nodded for him to continue CC looked at Kevin.  “I’m a C8 telepath but I’m limited to two primary abilities.  I can cause anyone within about twenty feet of me to fall into a deep coma.  They’ll stay in that coma until I or another telepath wakes them.” 

“That doesn’t sound like level 8 power.” Scott muttered.

“It’s my second ability that caused the level 8 rank.  Once someone is out I can drain their mind.  I can pull all of their memories, personality, and sense of self into me.  I can hold up to five minds at one time.”  There was a stunned silence as the team regarded the unassuming little man.  “What I’ve taken I can put back or if I’m holding more than one person, I can put them into whichever body I choose.” 

Kevin broke the silence with low whistle.  “I’d call that a level 8 ability.” 

“Let me get this right,” Scott said, “you can take a person’s mind and put it into another person’s body?” 

CC nodded.

“As you can see,” Director Cox interrupted, “this is an ability that the Agency doesn’t want the public finding out about.  It gives us a huge advantage in our mission to protect the public from rogue mutants and terrorist organizations.  We can have agents replace anyone and unlike a shapeshifter who can physically mimic a mutant, Agent Torres will have all of Carnifex’s powers while in her body.”  Director Cox nodded at Rhonda, “Agent Torres has been working with both Agent Collins and Dr. White getting used to Agent Collins’s power and learning how to adapt quickly to a new body.  This is why she’s the team lead, and why it’s your job, Taser and Eros, to back her up.”

Scott glanced at Agent Torres noting her olive skin and the slight fold at her eyes and blurted out.  “You’re Philippine aren’t you?  I bet you speak Tagalog.”

Rhonda grinned showing perfectly white teeth, “Of course.  If we’re going to infiltrate a terrorist group in the Philippines it would be a good idea if someone spoke the language.”

Kevin and Scott exchanged glances thinking about the implications.  Then Director Cox stood up, “I’ll leave the rest of the mission brief to your Team Leader.  Agent Torres, you’ve got one week to get ready and into position.”

 

 

Scott looked over Kevin and grinned.  “It’s been a couple of years, Taser, are you sure you’re up for this?” 

“Talk’s cheap Eros, let me see what you’ve got.”  The big black agent replied. 

Scott blurred forward driving a jab into Kevin’s ribs.  The big man grunted at the impact and staggered back a step.  Scott danced back before Kevin could counter punch but as he did electricity shot from Taser hand.  Scott tried to dodge to one side, but as inhumanly fast as he was the electricity followed him.  When it struck, Scott arched his body, every muscle locking up for a second. 

“Damn it, I forgot how much that hurts.” he growled.  “When did you learn to make it follow your target like that?”

“A couple of years ago, it was Dr. White how helped me figure it out.” Taser said, rubbing is stomach.  “Nice jab.”

“Next time I won’t pull it.  So, what’s the doc’s story?”

“Hmmm, what do you mean?”  Taser flicked a hand toward Scott and more electricity arced out.  This time Scott was ready and jumped forward doing a front flip over the bolt of energy and before Taser could cause it to circle back around he swept Kevin’s feet from under him.  The bigger man turned the fall into a roll but lost control of the lightning bolt and it slammed into the far wall of the gym. 

“Torres said everyone on the team was a mutant except her.  So what is Dr. White?”

“I think she’s classified as an B5 because she’s far smarter than even a genius.  I hear she’s scored perfectly on every IQ test they’ve given her.  She also has x-ray vision, like an instant MRI, so she is a D2 as well.  She’s exceptionally good at getting the most out of anyone she’s training.”

“Like helping you direct your lighting?”

“Yup, or this.”  Kevin flicked both hands toward Scott with fingers spread apart.  As he did five smaller bolts darted from each hand arcing toward Scott. 

“Shit!” Scott cursed trying to dive over the energy again.  This time Kevin was ready and caught Scott mid-air.  The force of the bolts threw him back five feet and he hit the mat twitching and jerking as his muscles locked up. 

“Fuck!  That hurts.”  Scott climbed to his feet shaking his head ruefully. 

“It’s a good thing you heal fast, Eros.” Rhonda said, announcing her presence and drawing a laugh from Kevin. 

“You said to meet down here for training.  Care to go a couple of rounds?”  Scott asked trying to sound innocent.  Just then the door opened and Dr. White with CC in tow stepped into the Agency training room. 

“Ah, everyone’s here,” she said.  “Now agent Torres has been working with CC for a couple of weeks getting used to his power.  We need to acclimate you as well, Scott.”

Kevin glanced over at Scott and grinned.  “Why would you need to acclimate Scott?  I thought Rhonda was going undercover on this mission.” 

“I am, but once we’re on mission we’ve got to be ready for anything.”  Rhonda replied.  “Every plan needs a back up option.”

“Besides,” Dr. White interjected, “Agent Torres needs more practice getting used to different abilities.  We’ve been getting her used to using telekinesis, since we assess that’s the primary ability Carnifex uses, but there are some indications that Carnifex is a hybrid mutant.  We know she’s an D-class but we suspect she’s also got physical abilities.  She might even have some empathic ability based on the ease with which she attracts sexual partners.”

At this Scott started backing up, “Hey, hold on.  Have you seen how hot she is?  I mean from that picture, even covered in blood, she was smoking.  A girl like that wouldn’t need special abilities to get a guy in the sack.”

“Never the less, we need to prepare.” Dr. White stated. “CC if you’d be so kind.”

“Hold on a sec. . .” Scott started to say and then slumped to the ground.

“Holly crap, you didn’t even move.” Kevin exclaimed looking at CC.

“Why would I need to move?” CC asked, “My power is psionic, as long as I’m in range I can put anyone without psi-shields to sleep.  I don’t even need to see them.  However, to do a transfer I need skin contact.”

“I’m ready when you are.” Rhonda announced moving to lie down next to Scott on the mat.  A moment later her eyes were closed and she was unconscious. 

CC glanced at Dr. White who nodded. “Taser doesn’t need the training but both Rhonda and Scott do.  Go ahead.”

The little man moved forward and knelt between Scott and Rhonda.  He reached down pressing a hand into each of their foreheads and closed his eyes.  He remained that way for a few seconds and then sighed.  He opened his eyes and stood up looking at Dr. White. 

“All done.  Shall I wake them all at once or one at a time?”

“Best do it one at a time.  Let’s start with Agent Torres.”

“That’s it?  Just a few seconds and you’ve switched them?”  Kevin sounded a little awed. 

“You were expecting flashing lights?”  CC sounded amused.  Then the little man nodded toward Scott’s body.  A moment later there was a deep masculine groan.  Scott’s body stirred and sat up.  Rhonda lifted a hand to rub her eyes and then paused to look at it.  Then she glanced down at her chest before looking over at Dr. White. 

“You know, this is the first time you’ve put me in a man’s body.”  Rhonda slowly, carefully, stood up and stretched. 

“Scott?” Kevin asked giving his old friend a questioning look. 

“No.  I’m Rhonda.”  Scott’s body started to move into a series of yoga stretches Kevin had never seen Scott try.  “I feel bursting with energy and every sense seems supercharged.” she noted moving from one pose to another.  “I’m much more flexible than I was expecting. What kind of training does Eros normally do?” 

Kevin shrugged, “He’s been into martial arts for as long as I’ve known him. 

“This is the first time I’ve been in the body of mutant whose abilities are primarily physical.  I can’t wait to see how strong I am.”  Then she touched her throat, “My new voice will take some getting used too.”  Rhonda glanced down at her still sleeping body then over at Dr. White.  “He’s the backup.  Are you going to wake him now or did you want to wait awhile?”

“Now, I think.  You’ve been in several mutant bodies learning to how rapidly adjust.  We need him to get comfortable in a woman’s body in case something happens to you and he has to take your place and go undercover.  I also think it will be good for him to see what it’s like to be a normal human.”  Dr. White mused.

“Wait, you’ve been in other mutant bodies?”  Kevin asked, feeling a little slow and then added, “Scott’s the backup for Rhonda?  Ha!  I can’t wait to see his reaction when you tell him that tidbit.” 

“Of course.  How else was I supposed to train for this mission?  Waking up in a new body for the first time is shocking.  Also, learning to move things with just a thought took some training.  Just like learning to shoot electricity from my fingers.  Normally, we leave whoever is in my body asleep while I train.  It avoids unnecessary questions and awkwardness.” 

“Electricity?  Wait, have you been in my body?”

Rhonda snickered in a very un-Scott way, “No, Taser, I’m just messing with you.  As far as you know.” 

Taser gave Rhonda a suspicious look and shook his head, “Didn’t you just say this is the first time you’ve been a guy?”  He glanced over at CC who just grinned.

“Go ahead and wake Scott up.”  Rhonda folded her arms across her chest and smirked down at her sleeping body. 

“Ugh.”  Rhonda’s body groaned and a delicate hand reached up to rub her temple. “Did anyone get the number of the truck that hit me?”  Abruptly, Scott sat up and looked around, “Wait, what?”  He looked down at his chest and clutched at his new tits through the t-shirt and sports bra and gasped. 

“Easy on the assets, Eros.” 

Scott glanced up and then squinted at his old body.  “Fuck.  What the fuck did you do to me?”  Slowly, awkwardly, he climbed to his feet.  “Why does my vision suck?”

“That body has twenty-twenty eye sight, it’s just the senses you’re used to are much sharper than a normal human’s senses.” Dr. White replied. 

 

 

Rhonda circled Kevin slowly, her senses on hyper-alert waiting for him to make the first move.  Kevin faked a jab throwing electrical energy toward her.  For Rhonda time seemed to slow down.  She dove under the lightning strike closing half the distance to Kevin by turning the dive into a front roll.  Coming to her feet she continued the upward momentum in a jump that would be impossible for normal a human. 

Kevin reacted quickly stepping to one side and unleashing a second arc of electrical energy.  In the air Rhonda had no opportunity to dodge the strike.  She felt it hit her left shoulder and instantly her body’s mutant gift dampened the affect.  She grunted in pain landing in the spot Kevin had just vacated.  The smell of burnt hair and t-shirt filled her nostrils as she lunged toward Kevin using a flying punch. 

Blue-white energy coalesced in front of Kevin intercepting Rhonda’s strike and pain arced through her fist in an explosion of force and sound.  Undeterred, Rhonda spun around dropping low and kicking out a leg.  The spinning leg sweep was too fast for Kevin to track and easily knocked his legs out from under him.  He hit the mat hard and tried to lift a hand but Rhonda was on him grabbing his chin with one hand and the back of his head with the other while dropping a knee to Kevin’s chest.

“Yield.”

Rhonda twisted slightly and Kevin slapped the mat with his free hand. 

“You got me, again.” 

Rhonda stood up and then offered Kevin a hand. “You have good control and I didn’t expect the energy shield you used.”

Kevin grinned and took Rhonda’s hand.  “I’ve been working on defenses.  Everyone expects me to just shoot lightning bolts.”

“Powers are fine, but the real test of a fighter is what she can do with and without abilities.  Learning to fight without these enhancements gives me an advantage now.” 

“You seem to be adjusting quite well.”  Dr. White noted, looking up from the clipboard where she’d been taking notes. 

Kevin and Rhonda both turned to look at the doctor.  “Yeah, normally I’m only in a new body for an hour or two.  I’m finding that the longer I’m in this body the more natural it feels.” 

The doctor nodded.  “Yes, as I thought.  You have been a man for just over twenty eight hours and already you are moving in a more masculine way.  Even your speech patterns are changing.  I’d like to have you take a few tests to see if your thought patterns are shifting.” 

“Sure.  Are you concerned about a long term swap?  The plan is for me to spend anywhere from months to years as Carnifex.” 

“We haven’t done any true longitudinal testing.  The longest swap, using CC’s powers is one month.  There were no unanticipated side effects.  No loss of memory or change in base personality.  There were a number of secondary personality changes but those were expected.” 

“How is Scott doing?” Kevin asked trying to hide the smirk.  He remembered the look on Scott’s face when he was told they’d stay swapped for a day or two and had to hold in the laughter. 

“He isn’t adjusting as well as Rhonda.  I don’t know if it’s because Rhonda is more used to swapping bodies, if the female mind is more agile and better suited to changing circumstances, or if it’s just his poor attitude.”   

Rhonda grabbed a towel from the side of the mat and started drying off.  “It could be any or a combination of all three.  Have you done anything to motivate him?” 

“What would you suggest?” 

“I’ve been talking to CC.  I think I know just the thing.

 

 

Scott climbed out of the lap pool trying not to wince at the way his one piece swimming suit clung to his body and was stretched tight against his flat crotch.  He never liked clothes that were tight in the crotch but now it felt like he had no choice.  He was sure that part of the reason Dr. White insisted that he did an hour in the pool swimming was to force him into clothes that reminded him of his missing equipment.  He was also keenly aware that Rhonda had shaved her lower regions and the suit displayed his camel toe for anyone bothering to look.  

“Stupid fucking girl swimming suit.” 

His body hummed with endorphins from the workout and he had to admit that Rhonda might be horse-faced but her body was in amazing shape.  Scott’s metabolism plus his mutation meant that he didn’t have to be a gym rat to have an incredibly fit body, but he’d always enjoyed working out.  Rhonda’s body on the other hand needed the exercise to stay in shape.  She’d also made it clear that if he didn’t stick to her workout plan while they were training she’d make his life hell.  Scott squinted up at the clock. 

“An hour and ten minutes in the pool.  She can’t bitch about that.”  Then he shook his head feeling the long braid slide across his back.  “This sucks.” 

“What sucks?  Being a woman?” 

Scott looked over at CC and Dr. White as they stood up from where they’d been watching him.  “I didn’t see you there.”  Scott muttered hating the whiny sound of his voice and his duller senses.  In his body he’d have heard them and smelled them before spotting them.  He was rarely surprised.  “And no.  I mean being a woman is weird.  My balance is off.  I’ve got parts that jiggle where they shouldn’t and I’m missing things that ought to be there . . . but no.  It’s the loss of my powers.  Everything seems dull and colorless.  Smells aren’t as potent, my hearing lacks depth and richness, and I’m slower and soooooo weak.” 

Dr. White gestured at the chair she’d just been using, “Please, have a seat.”

Scott shrugged, even if Rhonda’s tits were smaller than what he preferred in sexual partners he was hyper aware of how his boobs bounced and moved.  Particularly, in a swimming suit that lacked the support of a bra.  He also noticed that CC’s eyes were glued to his chest.  He picked up a towel dried off and then moved to the chair and wrapped the towel around his shoulders using it like a blanket to help hide his chest. 

“Okay.  What now?” 

“I think I’ve been approaching your training incorrectly.  I wanted to acclimate you to a female body since you are the backup and there is a small chance you might have to become Carnifex.  I’ve been having you do physical activities designed to help your mind adjust to your body.  This approach worked well with Rhonda.  She has adapted her fighting skills to incorporate the use of your powers.  The way she holds herself, her mannerisms, and even the way she moves, she is becoming more masculine.”  Then the doctor gestured at Scott, “Just look at you, with your legs spread in a most un-ladylike way.  Women don’t put their private parts on display like that.”   

For a moment Scott thought about pressing his thighs together then obstinately refused.  “I’m not much of a lady doc.  I didn’t agree to be Rhonda’s backup.  Just focus on training her and things will work out.” 

“Perhaps, but you are a part of the team and need to be ready.”

Scott folded his arms beneath his breasts and glared. 

The doctor shrugged, “We didn’t want to alarm you earlier since it is very unlikely.  However, you should know that a plan never survives first contact with the enemy.  If something happens to Rhonda you are going to take her place as Carnifex.  We will, of course, swap you out as soon as practical but you might end up spending a few days in her body.  You need to be ready.”  The doctor looked over at CC.  “We need to do more to train Scott’s mind.  I think an approach similarly to the way we train telepaths would work well in this case.” 

Scott glanced at CC, “How will you do that?” 

“I’ll absorb your mind again.  While I’m holding it I can put in a psionic blocks and compulsions.  Then I’ll put your mind back in Rhonda’s body.  Your job will be to beat down the blocks and resist the compulsions.  I’ll be working with you to, teaching you mental disciplines to help you.”

“Wait no messiiinn . . .”

Scott slumped in his chair and CC grinned over at the Doctor.  “I love doing that while they’re talking. 

Dr. White clucked her tongue, “Don’t be petty, dear.” 

CC placed a hand on Scott’s forehead and concentrated; nearly a minute passed before he dropped his hand and stepped back.  “All done.” 

A moment later Scott’s eyes fluttered open.  “. . . ing with my mind!”   

“How do you feel?”

“Fine.” Scott looked between the two, “You did something, didn’t you?” 

“Tell me your name?”  Dr. White asked.

“It’s Rhonda Torres.” 

“And are you male or female?”

“I’m a woman.  Come on doc, what’s going on?” 

“Wow, you’ve gotten better with that CC.  He doesn’t even realize what he said.” 

“I’ve substituted Rhonda Torres for Scott Irons in his mind.  He thinks he’s saying Scott but he’s actually saying Rhonda.  I did the same for his gender.” 

Scott got to his feet his face turning red, “What are you talking about?” 

Debbie White pulled out her phone and set it to record.  “Tell me your name and gender, please.” 

“I’m Rhonda Torres and I’m a woman.  Now what’s going on?”

Debbie handed the phone to Scott and pushed play.  Scott watched the video and almost dropped the phone when he heard what he’d said.  “What the FUCK!”

“In your mind you think you’re saying one thing when you’re actually saying something else.  That’s the mental block.  You’re job now is to break the block.  You’ll need to record yourself, but once you can say that you are Scott Irons and that you’re a man, I’ll consider having CC to return you to your body.” 

“No way doc!  You said a day!  Besides, this is embarrassing.” 

“Breaking down mental barriers is one of the exercises we use to train telepaths.  Learning to build those mental shields and breaking others down is a great way to strengthen the mind and will.” 

Scott wanted to argue but he shut his mouth and handed the phone back to Debbie. 

“Now, be a good girl, go get showered and meet Tiffany for your makeup and etiquette lessons.”

“Yes ma’am.”  Scott said, spun around on his toes, and hurried into the changing room hips moving in an exaggerated sexy gait. 

“Very well done, CC.  He acted like having makeup and etiquette lessons are normal.  Did you do something to his mannerisms?” 

“Yeah, blocked his normal male mannerisms and added Tiffany’s.  Now when he moves he will instinctively move the way Tiffany does.  She’s one of the most feminine women in the facility.  I also added a compulsion to wear dresses and to look and talk as elegantly as possible.  I think that’s why he was happy about getting those new lessons.” 

Dr. White shook her head, “The most fascinating part is that he hasn’t noticed anything different.  How long before he breaks down the blocks?”

“The way I built them?  A day or two if he works at it.  Also once he has then he’ll be able to gradually start noticing the other things.  From there it’ll be interesting to see if he wants to break down those barriers or if he’d rather keep his feminine mannerisms.” 

 

 

Rhonda slid into the driver’s seat of Scott’s car and fired up the Corvette’s big V8 enjoying the deep throated growl of raw American horse power.  She was carful to take it easy since she wasn’t used to the sports car.  “So this is what it feels like to be a mutant special agent on Spec Ops pay.”  The Agency had a normal pay scale for its employees but then there was the specialty pay.  Powerful mutants got more money as did Agents with higher levels of training.  Scott was obviously at the top of the pay chart. 

Rhonda felt a flash of jealousy.  “If Eros wasn’t such a scatter brained dip shit he could be the Director someday.”  She shook her head at the wasted opportunity and the lack of ambition.  Instead she focused on keeping the powerful machine within the speed limit.  It took over an hour to get to the non-descript coffee shop, one in a thousand in the Seattle area. 

When she entered the shop a couple of the other patrons, big rough looking guys, glanced at her and then away.  ‘That’s right bitches.  I’m a bad ass guy.’  She felt a surge of pride.  Normally when she showed up at a place like this the glances were predatory.  The men didn’t care if she wasn’t very pretty, they just saw tits and a pussy.  Now there was a quick evaluation and then a look away.  Her posture screamed confidence and the large athletic male body she wore warned the other customers that she wasn’t someone to mess with. 

“I’ll take a double espresso.” 

“Sure.  Can I get a name?”

“John.” 

The barista winked at Rhonda.  “I’ll have that ready in a minute.  Is there anything else you . . . want?  I’m happy to service-er-serve my customers.” 

‘Wow, I wasn’t even using Eros’ powers on her.  That’s a little ridiculous, no wonder Scott has such a huge ego.’ 

“Just the coffee.  I’ll be right back, if that’s okay.  I need to grab something from my locker in the Y.”  As she spoke Rhonda made eye contact and using Eros’s empathic power pushed a sense of boredom at the teenager girl.

“Sure.  You can use that door.  It brings you in behind the main desk.” 

“Thanks.”

One of the unique features of this coffee shop was that it shared a building with a YMCA.  Rhonda hurried to the lockers by the main desk.  She pulled out a key and opened the locker using her large male body to block it from view.  The only thing in the locker was a cell phone and a charger.  She grabbed both and after locking the locker returned to the coffee shop. 

Once settled into a table she plugged the phone into the charger and powered it up.  She noticed she had one missed text message. 

Unknown:  It’s been three days.  Report.

Rhonda felt her heart race.  The Shadow Lords were both patient and powerful.  She still couldn’t believe they’d reached out to her, a normal human, right after she graduated from the academy.  At first she’d thought it was a test being run by SMAC to see if she was susceptible to being turned.  Then she’d assumed she was being recruited into an internal affairs arm of SMAC.  It seemed obvious to Rhonda that with its vast power SMAC needed a way to police it’s agents so they didn’t abuse their authority.  Over time she’d come to realize the organization calling itself, “The Shadow” wasn’t part of SMAC.  It was bigger.  Her contact called himself a “Shadow Lord” and he’d been willing to show her how powerful the organization was and what it could do for her.  Once she learned how much they could help her with her career in return for her loyalty she’d leapt at the opportunity.  

Rhonda:  The plan is proceeding.  I’m training.  We are waiting for word that the subject has arrived.

After she pushed send Rhonda sipped at her coffee and surfed through Scott’s phone.  ‘Wow, how many women is he seeing?’  

Dr. White had insisted that they pretend to be each other which meant trading phones, clothes, and even cars.  The last had caused Scott to throw a very feminine temper-tantrum.  Evidently he was emotionally attached to his car.  Rhonda shook her head.  Scott was handsome, but there was no way so many women would be interested unless he was using his powers. 

“God, men have it so easy.  Just fuck and go.  No concerns about getting pregnant, being called a slut, or having periods.” She mused quietly under her breath while looking through Scott’s text messages.  “Too bad I’m not due to start for another two weeks.  I’d love to watch Scott deal with my period.”  The idea made her chuckle.  Just then the phone buzzed.

Unknown:  Change of plan.  While the subject is powerful, the better opportunity is within the Agency. 

Rhonda felt a flash of intense anger.  She’d risked everything when she made the deal with the Shadow.  There was no way she was going to give up on her goal.  A powerful mutant body would give her what she’d always wanted.  As Special Agent Rhonda Torres, there was only so much she could do or how high she could go within the Agency.  Then additional messages started flowing in and she felt her first thrill of excitement. 

“Oh, now this is interesting.” 

 

 

Scott normally didn’t care much about how he looked, well excluding the week he’d spent as “Rhonda,” but tonight he knew that he needed to look his best.  His light brown hair was slicked back and the designer black jeans and shirt were intended to show off his athletic build. 

“Are you ready yet, Eros?” Kevin asked from the other room.  Scott took another look in the mirror and nodded.  The dance club wasn’t exactly a rave but it was close enough that he needed to make sure he looked like he fit in.  “Rhonda has eyes on Carnifex, we need to get moving.”

Scott gave his masculine image one last look, ‘I can’t believe I was in Rhonda’s body for a week!’  He thought back still wanting to either shake his head or choke someone.  Being stuck as a normal human had sucked, but because this was a black op, no one else in the farm or in the agency could know so they had to pretend to be each other.  To keep things simple they’d moved into quarters set up in the farm for agents to use.  It had taken a full day for him to actually hear the words he was using instead of what he thought he was saying.  After that he’d felt a burning need to break down the block.  A day later he was able to look into a mirror and state his true name and gender.  That had resulted in a fierce headache and a wave of exhaustion.  Instead of seeking out CC or the Doctor he’d just gone to bed. 

Then on the morning of the third day he’d moved through his normal routine getting ready to go find the doctor.  All at once he’d been shocked when he glanced into a mirror to check his makeup and noticed he was wearing a sundress.  It showed off Rhonda’s boobs and highlighted her tight athletic waist.  ‘Sadly,’ Scott thought as he turned from side to side looking at his figure, ‘I wish my boobs were bigger and I don’t have much in the hips or ass department.’  Then he looked in the mirror examining his face.  There wasn’t much to work with here but he was happy to see that his makeup was perfect and he’d done it himself without really thinking about it.  Then it all hit him at once. 

“That son of a bitch!  I’ve been dressing and moving like a girl, even thinking about my looks the way a girl would and I didn’t even realize it.”  

He’d stormed off to confront the Doc, not noticing that even pissed he was moving in a natural feminine way.  After twenty minutes of searching he found her office locked.  Scott wasted no time pounding on the door angrily.  When there was no answer he put his ear to the door and heard a soft moaning.  It was the sound of a woman in the throws of passion.  Scott felt embarrassed to interrupt and then angry and returned to pounding on the door with his tiny fists trying to make as much noise as possible. 

About five minutes later the door opened up and a disheveled Debbie White poked her head out.  She wasn’t wearing her customary white lab coat and her loose blouse with its plunging sweetheart neck line and tasteful skirt showed off what Scott realized for the first time was a very sexy figure.  He felt a flash of jealousy.  ‘What would it feel like to be so sexy?’  Then he suppressed that thought was again angry.

“What is it Rhonda?” 

“My name is Scott Irons and I’m a man.” 

“You don’t look like a man to me.”  Rhonda in Scott’s body said opening the door wider and giving Scott a lascivious once over.  She had a pair of jeans on but wasn’t wearing a shirt, showing off Scott’s muscular chest and impressive arms in the process.  “In fact, I love the way you did your hair and makeup today.  Did you go shopping for that dress?  I don’t remember it.” 

“You like?”  Scott said, running a hand over the soft fabric.  “I picked it out yesterday when Tiffany took me shopping.”  Then he stopped . . . Realizing what he’d said and glared at the doctor.  “I’m also aware of you’re the compulsions!  Really?  Makeup?  Fashion?  Was all of that necessary?” 

Rhonda moved forward and tilted Scotts chin up so they could make eye contact.  Scott felt his heart race and a thrill rushed through him.  “I think you make a lovely woman.  Even if you don’t have much to work with in that body you still managed to make it look sexy, Scott.”  Then Rhonda leaned down and brushed her lips to his. 

Scott opened his mouth inviting Rhonda’s tongue in while feeling his body responding, his nipples becoming hard and a soft achy feeling blossoming in his groin.  He’d experimented a little in the shower and at night, enough to know what female arousal felt like and how satisfying an orgasm could be.  Now, suddenly, all he wanted was to get Rhonda alone and explore her delightful male body.  The empty achy feeling he’d learned to associate with feminine arousal intensified becoming a fire. 

“You’re ability to use Scott’s empathic skills is quite impressive.  I think you have a more subtle touch than he ever had.” 

Rhonda stroked Scott’s cheek with the back of her thick masculine hand, “I’ve been doing all of the exercises you gave me.”  Then she looked deeply into Scott’s eyes, “I really do love this male body of yours, sweetie.  Let’s make this swap permanent.  You’d like that, wouldn’t you?  Did you know that your body has never had sex?  You’re a virgin!  I’d be willing to show you how grateful I am, if you agree to a permanent trade, all night long if you want.  I bet you’re a screamer.” 

Scott had been leaning into Rhonda’s hand, eyes half closed, and found himself nodding at her words.  The idea of a whole night alone with Rhonda sounded like heaven.  Then the words sank in and he pulled away breaking physical contact with Rhonda. 

“Wait, what?  Are you using my empathic ability on me?” 

“Of course not.  Your seduction talent only works on women after all.” 

It felt like the fog in his mind was lifting yet his body craved her touch.  He wanted nothing more than to bend over, hike up his dress, and give Rhonda full access to his moist pussy.  The image of Rhonda standing behind him, his dress flipped up and panties on the floor, as she rammed her massive tool into his hot sex made him tremble with need. 

“Fuck, no, I don’t want to make this permanent.”  He stepped further away shaking his head trying to clear it.

Scott glared at Rhonda.  He could still feel his nipples pressing aggressively against the fabric of his bra and he could almost smell the arousal from his soaking aching pussy.  He looked up and made eye contact with Rhonda and all at once he couldn’t look away.  Her blue eyes seemed to get deeper and brighter. 

“Scott, admit it.  You love the way your body feels.  Being a woman is as natural for you as breathing.  You know you want me to take you and show you the pleasures that your body has never known.  Why fight it?  Give me what I want and I promise I’ll have you screaming in delight.  You know you were born to be female.”

Scott trembled trying to fight the carnal desires filling his body.  An image swam into his mind, lying on his back in the bed in his room.  Rhonda between his legs using her mighty cock to bring him to one screaming orgasm after another.  He closed his eyes and took one calming breath after another clearing his mind with one of CCs mental techniques.  The pressure on his mind faded. 

“You’re an asshole Rhonda.  Stop using my power to mess with my mind.”  Then he glared at the doctor, “You two were hooking up, weren’t you?”

“That was very impressive Rhonda.  I’d say you have surpassed Scott in your ability to use his empathic gift.  If I were to put you in a bedroom with him and give you half a day I’m betting you’d have not only had sex with him but turned him into your willing servant.  He’d do anything to stay with you.”  Doctor White looked at Rhonda with a clearly satisfied expression.  “You’ve done very well with your training.” 

Scott stomped one foot.  “I never agreed to letting my body go around having sex.”

“Scott you are such a good girl.  You did a great job breaking down those blockers in only two days.  On top of that you resisted Rhonda’s empathic ability.  As a normal human girl I wouldn’t have thought that possible.  Well done.”  Scott felt a surge of happiness at the doctor’s words.  “However, good girls don’t ask impolite questions like that, you should be ashamed.” At Dr. White’s stern tone Scott felt his happiness evaporate and a lump form in his throat.  “Now, be a good girl. You have case files to study and a ballet lesson about to start.”

Scott felt embarrassed and ashamed of his outburst.  He was just frustrated and then he realized the doctor was right, he was behind on his homework.  He’d been so focused on breaking down the mental barriers he’d skipped his case study.  He needed to learn everything he could about Cindy, “Carnifex,” Snow.  Then he glanced at his wrist and the delicate feminine watch told him that if he didn’t hurry he’d miss a ballet lesson!  That would never do, he nodded and started to turn around when it hit him.  He didn’t need a ballet lesson.

“Damn it Doc!  You just did it to me.  That’s one of the compulsions CC built.  When you tell me to be a good girl I suddenly want to do whatever you suggest!  That is just wrong.  I want my body back.” 

Dr. White reached over and ran a small hand over Rhonda’s sculpted abs, “Hhmm . . . I don’t know.  Rhonda makes such a good Eros.  She takes power development more seriously than you.  For example, in the time she’s been a man she’s become a better fighter than you.  She’s used her projective empathy to sleep with several of the unattached female staff.  And, based on recent observation, she is a far better lover than any man I’ve ever been with.” 

Rhonda caught Debbie’s hand and moved it down to the growing bulge in her crotch.  “I had no idea how good a penis feels until you switched with me.  Factor in a nearly instant recovery time due to this body’s regeneration ability and I can have sex dozens of times a day.  My current record is five climaxes in one night.  That was with Susan, you remember her?  She’s a low level shapeshifter.  The two of you were friends with benefits back before you got tits and a pussy.  Anyway she wanted to know what I’ve been doing to get so much better in bed.”   

Scott made a fist with his hand and glared at Rhonda.  “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?” 

“Of course.  Being a man is nice but a male mutant with B-Class physical powers is fantastic.  I understand why you want this body back.”  She turned to look at Doctor White who was still stroking Rhonda’s cock.  “Debbie wanted to test the limits of my recovery ability before you interrupted us.  I think I could do four climaxes per hour and keep that up for six or seven hours.  You could stay and help us test it, I’m not sure Debbie can take that much sex so I’ll need another partner or two.  But you’ll have to get naked and maybe put a bag over your head.” 

“Don’t be disgusting.”

Debbie looked up at Scott, “I’ll have CC swap you back when you make that request wearing a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and no makeup and after you’ve studied Carnifex’s file.  Now shoo, good girls like you need to work on being graceful and feminine.” 

Scott nodded in defeat and didn’t try to fight the desire to go work on being more graceful.  It had taken two more days before he’d been able to put on a pair of jeans.  Another day before he could go without makeup.  On the seventh day he’d shown up with CC and asked to be swapped back.  When Dr. White had suggested that good girls didn’t want to be boys he’d told her to shut the fuck up and that he wasn’t a good girl.

Rhonda seemed disappointed when he and CC arrived to do the swap and for a moment he thought she might fight it. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to see what it feels like to have sex as a woman?  I know everything about that body and what it takes to please it.  Give me an hour and then if you still want to change back we’ll get CC.” 

Scott made sure not to make eye contact or allow Rhonda to touch him.  Even so he’d been tempted by her offer.  Then he remembered his powers and once he’d had his way with a woman he could get her to agree to almost anything, at least for a week or two.  His empathic influence faded over time.  ‘There is no way I can let her touch me.’ He thought.

“No I’m good.  CC change us back.” 

With that he’d fallen asleep.  He woke up back in his body and leapt to his feet. “YES!”  In the back of his mind he’d started to wonder if they were ever going to give him back his body.  It had been three more days before they’d got word that Carnifex was in town.  Fortunately for Scott the return to his body had been smooth and CC removed all the blocks.  He still caught Rhonda looking at him from time to time and he couldn’t tell if it was with lust for his body or desire to be him. 

Now he entered the rave and he could feel his senses being overwhelmed.  The noise was so loud, and the lights flashing all over made him want to throw up.  He took several deep breaths using techniques he’d learned to filter out the sensory overload. 

“She’s at the bar.  The end closest to the bathrooms.”

Rhonda’s comment came to Scott through the ear piece and he moved away from the door and through the crowd.  It took a few minutes but he saw a sexy red head wearing a black dress.  ‘Off the shoulders, plunging neckline, and it barely covers her crotch!  Damn she’s hot!’  Scott thought.  The pictures didn’t do Carnifex justice.  Scott reached up and got rid of the device in his ear and then moved to the bar.  A tall guy had already moved up next to her, not that it mattered.  Not being one to waste time he tapped the guy next to Carnifex on the shoulder. 

“Get lost buddy, the lady’s with me.” 

The guy turned and as soon as he did Scott saw he was a mutant.  His eyes were like those of a cat and there was something slightly off with his facial bones.  ‘A low powered physical mutation, probably a class A.’ 

“Why should I?  I just bought the lady a drink.  Why don’t you beat it before I beat you?”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Carnifex smirk and lean back to watch the men compete for her attention.  This obviously turned her on so Scott decided to make it good.  He grabbed the guy’s shoulder and started to squeeze. 

Just before the collar bone snapped the guy shouted, “Fuck!” and twisted away.  In the same movement he slashed a hand at Scott.  Time slowed down as his mutation kicked in and Scott saw the guy had one inch claws extending from the tips of each finger.  He leaned back so the slash missed and then careful not to hit too hard he punched the guy in the chin.  Abruptly, time seemed to resume its normal flow and the mutant spun around and collapsed to the floor. 

“Some mutants need to learn to respect there betters.”  He extended a hand, “I’m Scott.” 

“Cindy,” Carnifex said and Scott grinned at her Australian accent.  As their hands touched Scott activated his empathic ability.  Cindy lifted a red eyebrow.  “Really?  Physical mutation and empathic abilities?”

Scott was impressed, “How did you know.” 

“The way you moved just now made it easy.”  She tapped the bar stool next to her, “Have a seat.”   

As Scott climbed into the stool he saw a couple of bouncers make there way over.  Cindy waived at them and pointed to the guy still on the floor.  Without asking questions they picked him up and carried him toward the door. 

“I meant the empathic part.” Scott clarified.

“I’m a mutant too.  I have an exceptionally good shield so I felt it when you tried to use your talent on me.  I’d be offended, except that I really need a good fuck and you look like you’ll do nicely.” 

Cindy slid an arm through his, “I’ve got a hotel room a couple blocks away.  Come with me.” 

Scott knew better than to try to spot either Rhonda or Kevin.  They would be following looking for an opportunity for CC to knock Cindy out.  The walk to the hotel was quiet.  There was some traffic and a light mist but nothing like a real rain.  Scott thought about getting an Uber to protect Cindy from the water but when he glanced at her he saw that it wasn’t touching her.  Instead the rain stopped just before it hit her skin and ran off like she was wearing an invisible raincoat.

The cooler evening air and the mist felt refreshing to Scott after the heat, noise, and flashing lights inside the dance club.  Cindy was still holding his arm and abruptly Scott felt a wave of tingling energy flow over his skin from Cindy.  In a second she’d extended her shield to cover Scott. 

“There, no reason for either of us has to get wet.”  She flashed a sexy smile up at Scott, “Obviously you’re a mutant.  Have you been power tested?” 

“Naw, I don’t trust the government.  They’re happy to test and register every mutant they can but I’ve heard horror stories about them keeping track of you.” 

Cindy nodded, “Yeah, most developed countries want to keep track of those of us gifted with meta-human abilities.  What can you do?” 

Scott shrugged, “I’m strong, fast, my senses are sharp, and I’m pretty tough.  I heal quick, don’t get sick, and I can project emotions.  Although that skill isn’t very strong and seems to only work on women.” 

“What were you trying to do to me?”  Carnifex’s voice sounded amused. 

“Oh, I was going to push how much I’m attracted to you.  It doesn’t mean you’d just jump into bed with me but it does help.”  Then to change the subject he asked, “What about you?  Obviously, that shield is handy.  It stops the rain.  Do you have  a Psionic ability as well?” 

“I was power tested years ago.  I think the Australian government uses a different set of standards so I don’t know how it would translate here.  Yeah, the shield is pretty good.  I’m immune to almost everything.”  Then she giggled, “You were trying to emote a psi version of date rape at me.”

“No!  Of course not.  It doesn’t break down inhibitions or make you do something you don’t want to do.  My ability just helps . . . with seduction.” 

“For the record.  I enjoy sex.  If you’re good, I may keep you around.”

By this time they’d reached the hotel.  It wasn’t particularly fancy.  Each room had doors that opened directly to the parking lot and it only had two floors.  Cindy led Scott to the second floor and unlocked the door with an old fashioned metal key.  The room had a bed and a small table to one side.  Before Scott could take it in Cindy had wrapped her arms around him and pressed her body to his. 

“Kiss me you fool.”

Scott wasted no time pressing his lips to hers.  She tasted like mint and red wine, he slowly ran his hand down her bare back.  His fingers tingled a little as he ran them over her skin, ‘Is her shield still up?’  Then he moved on down to her tight bottom. 

“I need you.  Right now.” 

“Your wish is my command.”  Scott started to undue his belt but Cindy simply grabbed him around the waist and picked him up.  “What?” 

“Shush, don’t be a baby.” 

He could feel her shield around him as she carried him to the bed.  She dropped him onto his back and then she hiked up her dress.  She wasn’t wearing any panties and her hairless cunt already glistened with moisture.  Seeing his look she laughed. 

“If you were a human we’d have fucked in the bathroom.  I only bring mutants back for a bed.” 

She floated up over the bed and then Scott felt and heard his zipper moving.  “You’re also telekinetic?”

“Nope.  I can use my shield like an extension of me.  Right now I’ve got two long invisible hands unwrapping the goods.” 

Scott got his elbows under him in time to feel Cindy’s power grab his cock and expose it.  He was already semi-hard but her display was turning him on even more.  “Uhm, be careful?” 

“Hehehe . . . I thought you heal?  If I pull it off will a new one grow back?” 

“T-That’s not funny.” 

Cindy lowered herself to the bed straddling him.  Then she wrapped her hand around his dick.  For the first time since he met her Scott thought her shield might be down since her hand was hot on his meat.  She guided it to her moist entrance and he felt even more heat as sensitive skin met sensitive skin.  There was resistance and a slight popping sensation and then his dick was enveloped by her heat.   

“Ah, I needed this!”  Slowly, Cindy sank further and further down until Scott felt her clit rubbing the base of his shaft.  Eyes still closed she started rocking her hips up and down, “Mmmmm . . . right there.”  Energy grabbed his hips tilting them slightly and then working them up and down. 

“Feels great babe, but you’re doing all the work.” 

“You can help in a minute . . . I just need . . . ahhhhhhh” Her whole body shuddered and when her eyes flashed open they were glowing with a silver-white light.  “Ahhhh . . . you . . . need . . . to cum!” 

A force seemed to rip through Scott and he felt his balls clench up and then he felt it.  A powerful sensation raced through his dick, “OH, FUCK.” He moaned as he shot one long pulse after another into her depths.  Energy seemed to flow out of him and into Cindy along with his seed but Scott didn’t care.  The moment seemed to go on and on and Scott became lost in a world of carnal bliss.  When his senses returned he realized they floating a foot above the bed.  The energy faded and they slowly settled back onto the bed. 

Cindy looked down at him and grinned.  “That was nice.  You’re more powerful than I thought because that was a huge amount of energy.” 

“What?”  Scott could feel his heart racing, like he’d just run ten miles at his top speed, and his cock was still semi-hard and buried inside of Cindy.  “W-What was that?”

“I’ll let you in on a secret.  I feed off of sexual energy.  The more powerful the mutant the more energy I get.  Humans can give me a small boost, but you just loaded me up.”  Then she giggled twisting her hips and used an inner ring of muscles to squeeze his cock.  “Are we getting ready for round two?  How strong is your regeneration?” 

Scott reached up and ran a hand along her face.  He felt soft skin under his fingers for the first time and nodded.  “Keep doing that and I’ll be ready before you know it.  It feels like your shields are down?” 

“I like to use my power while having sex.  I like to see the fear or awe on my partners face.  Keeping a shield up keeps me safe but I enjoy feeling skin on skin.  Unzip me.” 

Scott reached around her back and tugged the zipper down.  Then Cindy lifted the dress up off her head.  For the first time Scott saw her full, magnificent breasts, with bright pink nipples the size of silver dollars. 

“No bra?  Not that I’m complaining.”

“Hehehehe . . . Why bother when I can use my power for support.”

He sat up and took one nipple into his mouth and sucked.  ‘I can’t wait until Rhonda is in her body.  I’m gonna love fucking her brains out on this Op!  It’ll give me a chance to show her how a real man fucks!’  With his other hand he softly messaged her other boob enjoying the feeling of soft luscious flesh. 

“Hmmm, nice.” 

Scott heard a soft click as the door opened but continued working Cindy’s nipple.  His dick now fully hardened and still deeply inside of her allowed him to start moving his hips up and down. 

“Ooohhhh . . . right there . . .”

Abruptly, Cindy collapsed forward and to one side.  Scott caught her and looked around to see CC standing in the door with Taser just behind him. 

“We have to move fast.  Carnifex’s contact in the Fists showed up right after you left.  Along with Hazard.”

“Hazard?  No way!” 

“Yup.  Rhonda has eyes on.  He’s the number two on the mutant most wanted list.  Rhonda called in for backup but we can’t afford to lose him.  She’s going to stay on him and directed us to execute plan B.” 

Scott rolled Cindy onto her back and pulled out as CC crossed the room.  He tried to sit up as CC reached down but instead of touching Cindy he rested his hand on Scott’s head.

“What? Plan B? Wai . . .”

Scott slumped to the bed next to Cindy, cock still standing proudly at attention.  “It’s too hard to do a swap while they’re awake.”  CC muttered.  Taser’s back was to the room as he peered out the door into the parking lot.  CC closed his eyes placing one hand on Cindy’s head and the other on Scott’s.  

Taser reached up to touch the ear piece in his right ear and then spoke into the mike attached to the lapel of his jacket.  “Copy all.” He glanced over his shoulder at CC and then back out at the parking lot.  “Make it quick CC.  Hazard left the club.  Rhonda is keeping a discreet tail but this could go sideways fast.  She needs help.” 

Then he continued, “Pretty clever of Eros, letting us know her shield was down.  I thought this mission was a fail when you tried to knock her out from the hallway and nothing happened.” 

“It’s not my fault, she was in range, but my power wouldn’t work.  We thought she was a telekinetic.  We didn’t know she has some kind of energy shield ability.”

  “No worries little man.  You have her mind?  How long can you hold her?” 

“I can hold up to five minds but only for a few minutes.  I can hold one or two minds for about an hour.  Now let me focus.” 

“Sure.”

CC closed his eyes.  He had both minds now and he pushed Scott into the sexy red-head’s body.  Then he examined Cindy’s mind copying and adding as much as he dared to Scott.  This was delicate work.  Add too much and it could cause a split personality too little and Scott would make a mistake and be discovered.  Normally this took time but time was limited.  CC blocked Scott’s natural masculine mannerisms and added Cindy’s.  He blocked Scott’s speech pattern and overlaid Cindy’s giving him her sexy Australian accent.  Next he copied the skills Cindy had developed in the use of her power.  Finally he moved on to memories.  This was the hardest part.  They had to remain separate from Scott’s memories but accessible when he needed them. 

   CC stood up a little shaky and looked tired as he moved away from the bed.  “It’s done.  Harder than I thought it would be.  I had to rampage through Carnifex’s mind taking what I needed.  I’m not sure what I did to her but I gave Scott the best chance I could.” 

“It’ll have to be enough.  Wake him up, and then we’ve got to take his body and get out of here.”

CC nodded and then focused on the sexy red head, “Eros, wake up!” 

“. . . it one damn minute.”  Scott froze his cute feminine lips making an “O” in shock at the sound of his voice. 

 ‘Rhonda!  Bitch I bet you somehow set this up.’  He slowly sat up feeling a heavy weight shift on his chest and a euphoric ache in his crotch.  In fact his whole body burned with energy and carnal bliss. 

“What the fuck is going on?”  The soft menace in his new feminine voice got the attention of the two men in the room.  Without thinking about it he grabbed a bedsheet to cover his feminine assets. 

“Eros, the quick explanation is that just after we left the club Rhonda spotted Hazard.  She’s is tailing him but doesn’t have any backup yet.  We have to go.  You know how dangerous he is.  Rhonda directed us to go with plan B since you were already in bed with Carnifex rather than abort.  The Agency is scrambling to put together a strike team to take down Hazard so you are going to be on your own for a few hours.  You need to get back to the club.  Carnifex’s contact with the Fists showed up at the same time as Hazard.  Luckily it looks like a coincidence and they aren’t working together.  Check in when you get a chance.  Now we’ve gotta move.” 

Scott noticed something hot and sticky running down his inner thigh and grimaced.  “Of course, I understand.  But I want out of this body as soon as we can make an exchange.”  Then his professionalism kicked in, “I assume you’re holding Cindy’s mind?  Putting her into my body is a bad idea.”  

“Of course.”  CC nodded.  “I’ve also done my best to give you as much of Cindy as I could.  Remember your training.  You’ll need to practice her skills and use the psionic-disciplines I showed you to access her memories.” 

Taser crossed the room and paused looking down at Scott’s male naked body and it’s slowly softening cock.  “Do you want to-er-cover your-uhm-body before I take you down to the van?” 

For a moment Scott glared at Taser then standing up he wrapped the sheet around his busty form and scooped Cindy’s dress from the floor.  “Get out.  I’ll get to the club as soon as I clean up.”  His every movement looked natural and feminine.   

Taser looked over at CC.  “I’m not touching it.”

“Oh, for the love of god.” 

CC moved over to Eros’s unconscious body and laid a hand on his neck.  Scott’s eyes blinked.  Then he sat up.  CC was careful to maintain contact as Scott’s body stood up and then moving woodenly climbed into Scott’s discarded clothes. 

“I can control his body as long as I’m touching him.  Now come on, we need to get back to the van.” 

 

 

Scott looked into the mirror and slowly ran the tips of his tiny fingers over his smooth features.  The sexy red-head moved to match each gesture.  He didn’t want to believe what his eyes told him but his every sense was assaulted with feminine stimulus.  The weight of his soft breasts, much larger than the ones he’d had while in Rhonda’s body, the scent of Cindy Snow’s lavender and vanilla perfume mingled with the strong smell of sex, and the taste of the red wine she’d been drinking lingered on Scott’s tongue. 

“Fuck.  I’m Cindy Snow.  Carnifex.”  For the first time Scott realized that in addition to Cindy’s soft alto he’d inherited her Australian accent.  “What did CC do to me?”  He wondered and then felt more cum run down his leg.  “Eewww . . .” 

He quickly grabbed a wash cloth and getting it wet used it to clean up his new female crotch and thighs.  As he did he couldn’t help noticing that his whole body felt energized.  His senses were almost as sharp as they’d been in his own body and there was a knot of energy in his center.  He glanced over at the dress in the corner and suddenly it floated, spun around, and then the zipper slid down. 

It took him a moment to realize that his shield was up and that without really thinking about it he’d extended an invisible set of hands to pick up the dress.  Then it floated over to him and he lifted his arms allowing it to slip down his arms.  Once settled he caused the zipper to slide up the dress that now caressed his soft skin.  At the same time he knew there was a layer of energy between him and the dress. 

He gave his reflection a look and then an invisible brush swept through his hair.  Not trusting his control Scott stepped to the counter next to the sink and spent a few minutes refreshing his makeup.  He noticed that Cindy was a minimalist not needing a lot of beauty products to enhance her natural looks.  Once done he returned to the bedroom and was happy to see that CC, Taser, and his body were gone. 

“Okay.  Her powers seem to be coming to me naturally.  I wonder if CC had anything to do with that?”  He looked around the room spotting Carnifex’s shoes.  “I just need to go back and meet the Fist contact and see what it is they wanted with Cindy.” 

 

 

“What took so long?”  Agent Torres asked jumping into the back of the van. 

“I had to do the swap and then make a few adjustments.  Also, did you know Carnifex can shield her mind?” 

Rhonda nodded at Taser before looking at CC, “Shield her mind?  No, that wasn’t in any of our reports.”  She glanced down at the comatose body of Eros.  “How’d he take the change of plans?” 

“Not great, but he’s got his game face on.  He does want to be swapped out as soon as possible.” Kevin noted, eyes locked forward watching the run down bar with graffiti on the walls.  “Hazard is in there?” 

“Yeah, and the backup team is 20 minutes out.” 

“Agent Torres, I need to do something with Cindy’s mind.”  At Rhonda’s questioning look he continued. “We did the swap thirty minutes ago.  It took more out of me than it should have.  Carnifex’s power was fully amped and even with her shield down it was harder than it should have been to pull her out of her body.  Then I had to try to help Scott.  I’m just saying I don’t know how much longer I can hold her.  I doubt I can last twenty minutes.” 

“We can’t put her in Eros’s body.” Kevin noted.  “If she managed to wake up it would ruin the stakeout at a minimum.” 

“I could keep her knocked out.”

“We could use the additional firepower that Eros’s body brings particularly if we have to fight Hazard.”  Rhonda looked into CC’s eyes.  “Put me into Eros and Carnifex into me.  Then keep my body knocked out.” 

“Are you sure?  We don’t know how long before we can swap you out if you do this?” 

“Yeah, I’m sure.  I spent a week as Eros, a few days until we can swap him with me won’t be a problem.”

“I’d rather have Rhonda here using Scott’s abilities if Hazard spots us.” Kevin added sounding edgy. 

With that Rhonda lay down next to Scott’s body.  Then her body went still.  CC reached down and pressed a hand into each of their foreheads.  He remained focused for several seconds before letting out a deep sigh.  CC leaned back and rubbed his temples, “Fuck, I’m tired.” 

“You done?”

“Yeah.”

“Then wake up Torres.  I can use Eros’ help.” 

A moment later Scott’s male body groaned and sat up.  “God.  As often as we’ve practiced that it still feels weird to wake up in a different body.”  Then she stretched and grinned.  “At least it’s a body I’m familiar with.”  She looked over at CC, “You gonna be okay?” 

“Yeah.  I’m going to close my eyes for a few minutes.” 

“Sure thing pal.”  Rhonda moved up to the front of the van and settled into the passenger seat before looking at Taser.  “Kevin, once the backup team gets here we’ll need to come up with a plan to take him down.  Thoughts?” 

 

 

CC looked into the room from behind a glass wall.  Cindy, now in Rhonda’s body was sitting at a table her legs shackled to the chair she was in and her hands chained to a heavy metal grommet set into the heavy metal table.  The table was bolted to the floor.    The wall directly across from Cindy looked like a mirror to her and had two uses.  The first was that it allowed the team to stand in this room and observe what was going on in the interrogation room.  The second was that it forced the person in the chair to look into their reflection. 

Cindy had been left to stare for over an hour.  Watching her wake up, dazed and confused had been interesting.  Then she saw her reflection and thought it was another person for a moment.  She’d pulled at the handcuffs unsuccessfully trying to break free and that’s when CC figured she realized she didn’t have her powers.  She’d struggled, screamed, cried, and begged to be released.  At last she’d grown calm. 

“Time to talk to our guest.”  Rhonda chuckled and left the room. 

CC’s head still hurt from all the use of his powers.  He’d been forced to do three transfers in under an hour, hold one mind for most of that time, and try to give Eros as much help as he could in going undercover in Cindy’s body.  Blocks and compulsions always took a bit out of him but grafting in selected skills and copying memories was much harder.  His powers were in many ways weaker than a lot of telepaths.  He had to be touching his target if he were going to really use his gift.  Where most telepath’s could copy a memory, plant a new one, build a block or a compulsion in addition to a number of separate abilities like controlling the target without having to touch the victim. 

Even though he had to be touching a target for everything except his sleep skill CC’s strength was in the volume of mental data he could process.  Holding an entire mind inside his was almost unheard of . . . much less five.  Being able to put a mind into a different body was also unique.  However, CC lacked the skill and finesse to easily sort through and pick specific memories to copy.  A few powerful telepaths could rifle through a victim mind picking out the desired information in a few minutes.  He’d always envied that ability.  If he were in the interrogation room and if he was touching Cindy, then as Rhonda questioned her he’d see her memories.  It was useful but limited.  The problem was that he was still exhausted. 

CC had known for this operation to work he’d have to move memories from Cindy to Rhonda.  He’d been ready for that but moving them to Scott had turned out to be much harder particularly since Carnifex’s talent tried to interfere.  Instead of looking for specific memories he’d picked events that were important to Cindy and copied them.  Then he’d grabbed all of her memories from the last two weeks and gave them to Scott.  He just hoped it would be enough. 

The problem for Scott would be that he only had a week of practice accessing planted memories and he hadn’t yet been taught nearly enough psionic tricks.  CC had focused on training Rhonda.  They would have to make arrangements to get Scott some training or swap Rhonda into Carnifex’s body as soon as possible.  Even though it had been a rush job CC was proud of how he’d set up Scott’s mind.  If another telepath were to take a look, assuming they could get through Carnifex’s shield, Cindy’s personality template would be on top along with the last two weeks’ worth of memories.  To get anything else they’d have to dig into Scott’s mind.  The whole operation had stretched CC’s abilities to the limit. 

CC let out a sigh.  This Op was barely in motion and was already getting out of hand, particularly since they’d lost Hazard.  That bit of news hadn’t gone over with leadership very well.  Then CC grinned as he watched Rhonda start talking to Cindy.  After he’d woken up from his nap he’d spent some time working on Cindy, before he pulled her out of her coma.  At Rhonda’s direction he’d added a blocker or two that should help keep Cindy quiet and anonymous.  The tech guys had taken Rhonda’s DNA, prints, picture and built a new criminal identity one that would stand up to any level of government scrutiny.  It was best for everyone if no one knew who was in jail. 

Rhonda entered the room and moved to stand at one end of the table forcing Cindy to turn her head away from the mirror to look at Rhonda. 

“You!”

“Cindy Snow, Carnifex, how does it feel to be a normal human?” 

Cindy glanced at her reflection before turning to glare at Rhonda.  There had been a brief hint of panic in that peek.  “YOU!  What did you do to me? And why?  I thought we were having fun!” 

“My name is Scott Irons, and it should be obvious.  I went undercover in that bar for the sole purpose of arresting you.  I’m an agent with a special government mutant affairs organization.”  Rhonda flashed Scott’s badge and credentials.  “You are guilty of a number of crimes, including murder, assault, and terrorism.”

“Not in this country.”

Rhonda ignored the interruption, “We’re going to send you to a special facility known as the Hole.  You will remain there until we need that body.  You will then be given another body and returned to the hole.  This will happen until you die.”  Rhonda said improvising and enjoying the look of shock on her former face. 

“No, that’s not possible.  Give me my body back.” 

“That’s not going to happen, ever.  You’re body and mutant abilities are too powerful for us to allow you to continue to abuse them.” 

“I-I’ll tell you anything you want to know.  I can explain how the Fists are getting drugs into the country.” 

“If we have the ability to put your mind into that body, don’t you think we can learn everything we need to know directly from your mind?”  Rhonda leaned down to look at her former body.  “There is nothing you can offer us that we can’t take with an Agency telepath.  What we really want to know is why the Fists are hiring powerful international mutant mercenaries.  What do they need so much muscle for?  Sadly, you don’t know.  But that’s okay, because the new Cindy Snow, Carnifex, will figure it out and pass that information on to us.” 

“I’m Carnifex!”  Cindy glared up at Rhonda.  “Fine. You need me to do the double agent thing?  Fine I’ll do it.  Now give me my body back.”

Rhonda grinned evilly down at Cindy making eye contact and pushing a sense of hopelessness and fear into her empathically.  “Give a known murderer a powerful mutant body?  I saw videos of what you did in Perth.  I think not.  Besides the current Cindy loves her body and powers.  She hated that body and couldn’t wait to escape it.” Rhonda gestured to Cindy, “You’ve seen what you now look like.  That body is physically fit, for a normal human, but it’s butt ugly.  There’s not a man alive who’d fuck you now.  Your nose is too big, tits are too small, and you don’t have those luscious feminine curves anymore.”  Rhonda leaned forward putting both hands on the table keeping eye contact.  “The new Cindy absolutely adores her looks and her new body.  I had to pull her away from the mirror.”

Rhonda’s former face was filled with horror and she tried to shake her head in denial.  Rhonda cupped Cindy’s chin, with a powerful masculine hand, making contact and forcing her to look into Rhonda’s eyes.  She empathically pushed a feeling of low self-esteem and inadequacy.  No man would ever find her attractive in that body. 

“If she succeeds in her mission she will be allowed to keep Cindy Snow’s sexy body for the rest of her life.  So, trust me when I saw, the new Cindy is highly motivated.”

Cindy whole body started shaking she tried to disavow what Rhonda told her but every inch of her new body felt . . . Weak.  Normal.  Ugly.  She closed her eyes breaking the eye contact Rhonda was using to push her empathically.  “No, no, no, no . . . give me back my power . . . my beautiful body . . .” 

“The only reason we’ve been having this conversation was so that I could look you in the eye and explain what was about to happen.  To make sure that even though there won’t be a trial you’ve had your day in court.  That and to say; Protocol 19-94-A.”

Cindy’s body went stiff as the mental block and compulsions CC had planted before waking her up took effect.  Abruptly, she slumped in her chair, drool dribbling from the corner of her mouth.  Then she blinked, shook her head, and slowly straightened up.

“Tell me your name.” 

Cindy looked up, “I’m Jane Smith.” 

“Are you a mutant?”

“I was.  Until my powers were blocked.”  Her voice sounded slightly unsure, but CC was confident that she was unaware of her actual answers. 

“Is this your normal, original, body?”

“Yes.” 

“Excellent.  Enjoy prison Jane.”  With that Rhonda turned around and left the room. 

 

 

“Explain to me again how this happened?”  Director Cox asked.

“Once Eros had made contact with the target, Carnifex, I spotted Joel Banks, a.k.a. Hazard enter the bar.” 

“You were the only one to spot Hazard?”

“Yes.  The team, Agent Kevin Brown and Chris Collins were trailing Agent Irons to the hotel.  I was the last to leave and that’s when I saw, and was able to make a positive ID on Hazard.” 

“That’s when you made the tactical decision to move to plan B and tail Hazard while calling for a backup team?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“But when the team arrived and assaulted the bar Hazard was gone?”

“Yes, sir.  We were in front and the bar has a back entrance.” 

“Isn’t it SOP to stakeout both entrances?”

“Yes sir.  However, Agent Collins was out cold from his exertions.  With Hazard being a B9 mutant splitting up the team seemed like a good way to get the team terminated.”

“Unless Hazard could identify you, which is doubtful, you should have moved into the bar to keep him under positive surveillance.” 

“Sir, Agent Brown is known to Hazard and I’d just been swapped into Eros.  I wasn’t confident that I could handle Hazard on my own.” 

“Of course not.  But you could have kept him under surveillance.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Director Cox stood up from the desk where he’d been sitting and Rhonda stood up.  “Damn it Torres.  This is a mess.  Finding and losing Hazard is bad.  That he is in Seattle means he’s up to something here.  Whenever he shows up dead bodies follow.”  The director shook his head, “I’m tempted to pull back our agents and notify the Governor.  We could flood the city with police and federal law enforcement augmented with government mutants.”

“Sir, flooding the area with agents would only tip Hazard off and the Fists would just shut down and move business elsewhere.  My team can still infiltrate the Fists, particularly with CC’s abilities.” 

The director glared at Rhonda.  “CC’s abilities are black ops.  No one can know about his abilities or that you aren’t the real Scott “Eros” Irons.  I’ve directed CC to adjust Taser’s memories.  He thinks the swap went off as originally planned.  Then the Hazard sighting happened.  He thinks you are Eros, and that the three of you responded and Hazard got away while you waited.  There are only four of us who know what’s going on, keep it that way.” 

“Yes, sir.  I’ll make contact with Carnifex.  The plan was to introduce Eros as her lover.  With CC’s help Scott and I can switch places.” 

“No.  CC’s skills are needed in D.C..  You didn’t think this was the only operation the Agency has going, did you?  For the rest of this mission you’ll have to be Agent Scott, Eros, Irons.  I expect you to assume his identity, CC can help if you need it before he leaves for D.C..  Now, has RHONDA made contact yet?”

“No, sir.” Rhonda lied.  “She’s moved out of the hotel Carnifex was using.  We assume she made contact with the Fists while we were chasing Hazard.  She knows protocol.  As soon as it’s safe she’ll make contact.” 

“Fine.  Notify me as soon as she does.  Stick with the new plan.  You’re Carnifex’s lover and boytoy.  Oh, and Rhonda, no more screw ups.  Now get out of my office.”   

Rhonda turned around had marched out of the Director’s office.  As she did she relaxed into a roguish grin.  ‘It worked.  Holy shit, it worked.  Fools.  Hazard was never there.  It was all a rouse to go with plan B.  This body is better than that of a wanted mercenary.  Eros had a reputation as a playboy and adequate agent.  That can’t change over night but I’ll be a much better agent than he ever was! I can’t wait to see the look on Scott’s cute little face the first time I stick my dick in him! 

 

 

Scott arrived at the club and looked around trying to absorb it all without being overwhelmed.  Everything looked bigger and the looks he got from the men gave him the oddest feeling.  He was thrilled by the obvious interest while being terrified at what their interest meant.  He focused on the psionic skill he’d learned from CC and tried to access some of Cindy’s recent memories.  A name and face floated to the font of his mind.  Armed with this information he made his way through the club, searching. 

“Hey, babe, wanna dance?”

“No.  Thanks.”

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Scott pressed ahead.  The club was crowded and he had trouble seeing over everyone else.  ‘I haven’t been this short since junior high.’ An image of floating a few feet off the ground and looking around flashed through Scott’s mind.  In an instant he knew he just had to will it and the shield that covered him like a second skin would lift him into the air.  He suppressed the desire.  He didn’t want to draw more attention than he was already getting. 

Scott made it to the bar and climbed up onto a stool.  This gave him a better view of the club.  The bartender was busy so rather than demand a drink Scott used the time to search for his contact.  Abruptly he spotted Frank Chen.  Maybe thirty, good looking athletic body, and if Cindy’s memories were correct of Filipino and Chinese heritage.  He was a mutant as most of the Fists were.  A low powered Class B mutant shapeshifter.  He could shift his hands into blades and after studying traditional Filipino Eskrima he was quite deadly.

He was sitting at the other end of the bar so Scott gave him Cindy’s best lascivious wink.  Frank nodded and then got up and casually made his way over to Scott sliding into an empty stool next to him.  Cindy had been sure that Frank Chen was a fake name but Scott wasn’t sure.  The case file indicated that Solomon Chen was the leader of the Fists, this Frank person might be related.  Frank had given Scott a lustful look. 

“I must say, Miss Carnifex, you look delicious.” 

“Just Carnifex.  I’m not a lady.  I’ve already eaten tonight but you do look yummy.  Perhaps after our business is done we can have a little fun.” 

“In that case.  I have a car waiting.  Would you care to accompany me?  It will be better if we talk business in private.”

“Lead the way.” 

Scott felt a surge of satisfaction when they both stood up and he realized he was taller than Chen.  Scott allowed Frank to guide him through the club pressing a hand ito Scott’s lower back.  Scott tried to hit the right amount of sexy vixen and professional mercenary so he didn’t react when Chen slid his hand down to cup one of Scott’s perfect lower cheeks while they waited for the car. 

In a few minutes they were seated in the back of a limo facing each other with Scott on the bench facing forward while Frank had his back to the driver.  Scott noticed Frank couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of Scott’s tits.  Feeling playful Scott arched his back a little straining the dress.  ‘I had no idea a pair of boobs had so much power.’

“Where to sir?” 

Frank looked up into Scott’s face and lifted an eyebrow. 

“Just drive around.”  Scott answered.  Then added, “Now, to business?”

“Very well.  We are putting together a team for a job here in the States.  We need mutants not connected with the Fist’s.  How does a hundred grand for one week of your time sound?” 

“Like half of what I’m worth and like I’ll mostly be bored and irritated.  I don’t play well with others.” 

Frank pulled out a flip phone.  “Fine, two hundred.  Turn this on at noon tomorrow you’ll get instructions.” 

Without thinking Scott grabbed the phone with Cindy’s power causing it to float up out of Frank’s hand and into his then he gave Frank a hard look.  I’ll send an account number to an international account.  It’s secure and untraceable.  I want the full amount by noon tomorrow or the deals off.” 

“Half up front and half upon completion.” 

“No.” 

Scott gave him a hard look and extended a shield over Frank holding him immobile.  Then he cut off the flow of air.  Frank wanted to struggle but he couldn’t move Scott even felt him try to activate his talent but the shield was so tight over his hands all he accomplished turning them to steel. 

The guard in the front of the car looked into the rearview mirror and locked eyes with Scott.  Then his eyes went wide when he realized something was going on. 

“Don’t do anything or I’ll kill you.” 

Then Scott glanced at Frank sitting immobile and slowly turning red.  After counting to twenty Scott relaxed the shield on Frank’s mouth allowing him to talk and breathe.   

“Fucking bitch!  I’m part of the Fists of Anarchy!  You don’t want to mess with us!”

“I’m Carnifex.  I’m wanted on three continents and I’ve killed hundreds of men like you.  I don’t barter.  I state a price and you accept.  If you refuse, I walk.  Now this is a very simple question, do you want my services?” 

After a moment Frank responded angrily, “Yes.” 

“Then by noon tomorrow the money will be in this account.”  With that Scott pulled a card from Carnifex’s purse and dropped it on the seat next to Frank.  “Goodnight.” 

With that Scott opened the door and even though they were moving he willed his power to lift him into the dark sky flying away from the car while simultaneously releasing Frank.  ‘Being a chick sucks, but I could get used to these powers.’ He thought enjoying the sudden freedom of the open sky.  Scott returned to the hotel and using the room’s phone called the number he’d memorized for making contact with the Agency.  After using his PIN to authenticate instead of getting a person he was directed to leave a message.  

“This is Firefly,” he said using the code name they’d asked Rhonda to use once she was in Carnifex’s body.  “I’ve made initial contact and need a face-to-face with my back up as soon as possible.  I need a covert extraction.”  The he hung up.

He knew the odds were low that Rhonda or Taser would get the message in the next few minutes.  An agency analysist would get it.  That person would have no idea who he was or what mission he was on.  If he said he wanted CC to swap him out of Cindy’s body it would have violated too many security protocols.  He glanced around the room doing a quick mental inventory. 

“Carnifex travels light.”  He collected up the items Cindy had brought and focusing on her recent memories to his surprise he realized she had a cargo van parked a couple of blocks away.  He hurried to it and one look told him he’d had the wrong impression.  The bags of clothes, makeup, and piles of . . . stuff indicated she didn’t travel light. 

He got onto I-5 north and headed out of Seattle.  After ninety minutes Scott could feel his body growing tired.  He still had a burning knot of energy deep inside, energy he assumed he’d got from having sex.  He could also feel the energy shield buzzing along his skin and his body glowed with post sexual bliss.  But he was physically tired and knew he’d be lucky to keep his eyes open much longer.  It had been a long night and he needed rest.  Scott spotted a rest area that looked particularly secluded.  He searched Cindy’s memories and discovered that in addition to food and water the van carried sleeping bags, pillows, toiletries, several bags of clothes, and cash.   Nights in Washington in early summer aren’t too bad and without wasting time he climbed into a sleeping bag and crashed.