The Cost of Liberation

Image by Pete Linforth from Pixabay

The Sorcerer had the urge to reach for her, but he restrained himself, knowing the girl would only recoil. 

He summoned the shadow servants, but it was the girl who emptied the last drops from the vial into the cauldron. 

The mist rose from the brew and the Sorcerer muttered the spell that would transform him into a man of feeling, his senses coming alive with each step he took. 

He thought he would burst when the fog dissipated and he saw his lover waiting for him.

Once they joined together, they never came apart. 

He clutched her with a desperation that frightened him, burying his face into the crevices of her flesh. 

He breathed in her scent so that he could take a piece of her with him once he ceased to be, evaporated into nothing like the Phantom that he was. 

Each time he felt the quiver of release, he held on. If he never let go, perhaps the night would go on for eternity.

But she was relentless. 

Her lips curled into a snarl, cold blue eyes glittering. She urged his body to betray him and give her what she wanted. 

His ecstasy would bring her freedom, and all he could think was that this was the last time…the last time she would be his. 

He gazed up the tunnel and saw the gateway to the Caverns stood open.  He had forgotten to close the boulder. If he’d remembered, she would never be able to leave him. 

But she wouldn’t look at him with hunger as she did right now, the sadness of farewell in her eyes. 

The Phantom could hold back no longer, so near to the edge of cataclysm. 

He’d held back long enough that pleasure had become pain, delicious when he finally gave in, the howl quaking his being from inside out as his lover forced him to surrender. 

Her ululating moans echoed though the chamber and consumed him.  His last peak was the most violent he’d ever known, wrenching his grief.

Something inside him shattered. 

Suddenly the girl gasped and fell on him in a faint. 

The Sorcerer knew something was wrong when he felt the decrepitude in his bones. Somehow, he was no longer virile and young. 

But when he saw the girl’s essence lift from her, he realized what she had done. 

Her body collapsed, but her essence reached inside him to claim the Trainer’s. 

There was nothing he could do to stop her. The Sorcerer was too weak. 

He was falling and the precious essence was floating away, the Trainer rising with his lover who was setting him free.

The stars were disappearing from the sky. 

The rising dawn meant night was coming to an end. 

The Sorcerer fought to stay conscious. 

Even if he couldn’t experience the bliss, he could at least witness their final embrace. 

Unshackled by physical bodies, the essence of the girl and the Trainer became one. 

The last the Sorcerer heard before he succumbed to darkness was the echoing sigh of two lovers floating up the tunnel of crystals, sharing the most exquisite rapture possible until the girl let her Phantom Lover go. 

*****

His sleep was dreamless. The Sorcerer woke up into her cold blue gaze. 

The girl was dressed, watching him while the Sorcerer lay naked. 

Her expression was bland looking over his bony form and she handed him his robes, staying quiet until he’d put them on.

“I believe you have something for me,” she said.

He looked at her and nodded.

The Sorcerer got up, shocked at the pain searing through him while searching amongst the shelves. 

He kept his back to the girl until he found the promised dust that would protect her in times of danger. 

He had never before had cause to notice the emptiness after a seduction came to an end.

Exhaustion spread through his limbs when he found the leather pouch. 

But he caught a glimpse of the black velvet bag, nestled in the corner of the highest shelf, and his spirit lifted. 

He’d actually forgotten about her heart. No wonder he was so tired. 

He turned around and handed her the pouch of dust. 

She took it, but eyed him closely, scowling. 

The Sorcerer was pleased she’d detected his shift in mood. The girl’s powers of observation were impeccable and the most satisfying quality of her conquest.

“Use this with caution,” he said.  “You only need a pinch, it’s that powerful.”

She nodded, ruffling her skirts to pocket the leather pouch. 

“I don’t know if the world is ready for you,” he continued.  “But you’re more than ready for the world.  Good luck in your new life.”

The girl said nothing, staring up the tunnel for a moment before taking her first step. 

But once she started, her progress was steady as she made her way up the stairs. 

The Sorcerer watched her go, a sharp stab in his breast catching him off guard so much that he almost doubled over. 

The pain was confusing. There was no reason to suffer. 

He glanced at the black velvet bag, knowing he would soon get what he really needed. 

The girl stopped halfway up the spiral. 

Her halt was so sudden he wondered if she could hear what he was thinking. She looked down at him, her brows drawn close. 

He knew what her question would be before she spoke, her contralto voice echoing down the tunnel.

“What are you going to do with my heart?”    

“I’m going to eat it.”

The Sorcerer didn’t hesitate in his answer, and thus dispelled the last vestiges of the illusion of love. 

The girl’s face paled and the Sorcerer felt like himself again, reveling in the new surge of vitality in his blood.

“I always knew there would be a hidden cost,” she murmured.

This excerpt is out of my novel, “Ella Bandita and the Wanderer.” To purchase the ebook, click HERE.