Abbalar Tales ~ 33 Awakening 2
By Len Morgan
"Who are you," a male voice demanded
as Asba materialized in Genna's dream.
He ignored the man.
"Genna!" he yelled.
The man stood directly in front of Asba
refusing to give way, "I aksed you a question," he said in a threatening manner, waving a heavy blade.
Asba hit him, with all his might, plumb on the
point of his nose, the man collapsed on the floor and disappeared in a cloud of
smoke. "That’s for the scar you
gave me," He said glancing at his hand. He proceeded along a subterranean
tunnel hewn from solid rock. He stopped
every fifty yards, under a flaming torch to call out her name. This was not what he had expected at all, he
passed twenty ensconced torches and began to wonder if he had taken the wrong
direction. There were no doors, windows, or branching passages. He walked on
into the distance, calling and listening, but there was no reply. He fancied he could see a flickering light
ahead. As he drew closer he heard a
noise, he increased his pace. There was
a scuffling sound, then he saw a cut-in to his left. It was around ten feet deep, illuminated by
torches. A scantily clad young woman
hung several feet above the ground, enmeshed in an enormous web. The more she struggled to get free, the more
she became enmeshed in its sticky cords.
She uttered small animalistic noises, certainly nothing equating to
language as he knew it. He hurried to
disentangle her, knife in hand. After
only three steps, however, he bumped into a vertical sheet of solid reflective material.
Thinking it a mirror of sorts he turned about expecting to see the young
woman behind him. Instead, he found
himself in a large well-lit domed chamber, the tunnels were gone. He was confronted by a tall dark-haired voluptuary, dressed shoulder to heels in an iridescent black material,
reminiscent of the chitinous carapace of an exotic beetle. Her skin was the colour of golden honey, her
eyes a deep dark brown, almost black.
Her full lips were a deep plum red, and her slim lithe form moved easily
with the grace of a feline. Who was
she? He found himself curiously warmed
and tingling, his breathing became more rapid and his pupils dilated, he was
strangely and surprisingly excited by her close proximity in a way he had not
experienced, for many years, not since his youth. She moved gracefully within touching
distance, appraising him with an amused playful expression on her face, she
stood a head taller than he and appeared to be looking down her nose at him.
"As I recall you always held back,
keeping your distance from me" her voice was both husky and melodious,
"I half expected Aldor to come."
"I
- I'm sorry, have we met?" He
asked, tongue-tied, like a fumbling adolescent.
She chuckled, a musical sound like a bubbling
stream.
"You are inside my mind? I would judge you know me better than
most."
His eyes widened, yes there was better than a
faint passing resemblance between this woman’s features and those of the new Genna
he had seen but briefly before entering her mind. There was no pretense or exaggeration, the
biggest differences were her fluid movements, and her eyes… "You are in danger!" he
blurted. “This is a dream…"
"Danger, from whom, or should I say what?" She derided him, “that childish
nightmare? I put an end to that charade
days ago, in dream time, so wildly ridiculous.
I have spent most of my time amusing myself waiting for you to come to rescue me." She leaned slowly and
deliberately towards him, placing a kiss lightly on his cheek.
"I'm an old man" he began.
"Not here," she said.
He looked down at himself, she had spoken
true.
They made love, hungrily and roughly, then
gently and lovingly. Finally, after many
hours, they lay back content, passion slaked they talked.
"You always seemed so warm and inviting
to others, yet managed to find excuses not to be alone with me," she said
in a playful voice that also managed to convey a longstanding hurt.
"Was it really that obvious?"
"You don't deny it then?"
"You were such a beautiful child, fresh
and young, bright, impressionable, yet vulnerable. It would have been so easy to take advantage
by exploiting the situation, but that was something I would, could never do. Invariably girls outgrow their childhood infatuations
and find young men closer to their own age, one with whom they could happily
share the rest of their life. At which
time they are invariably grateful to the older man, the one-time object of their
fantasies, for being able to resist the temptation," he explained.
"You’re a fool!" she chided.
"I was expecting a young man I am very fond of, but he has only
ever been a substitute. You have always
been my one and only love. How many of
those other young women would have felt as I do? How do you think their men would feel if
they realized they were only second choice,” she asked? reaching out for him
again. "Come here!" she
commanded.
"It's your dream," he said with a warm smile and he obeyed.
Much later, the conversation continued. "Was it worth the wait?" he asked. She smiled.
"You never married, that is regrettable,
you should be passing on all those good qualities to future generations, but
there is still time." She added.
Even in a dream, he found himself intoxicated
by the scent of her skin, he was conscious of her closeness, even with his eyes
closed, that was why he had always tried to keep his distance from her lest he
swallow her up in his own ego and never let her develop as she should and
obviously had. In dream time, they were
both teacher, and pupil, in the art of love.
Unencumbered by physical limitations of the flesh they lived a lifetime
in each other's arms, making up for lost time, a matter of moments in real-time.
When finally they materialized beside Skaa, just beyond the portal, the future of Corvalen was assured.
.-…-.
From the control center, Aldor was able to look out and scan their minds. He knew immediately that Genna was lost to him, assuming he'd ever stood a chance with her, but they could still remain friends. Would he dare tamper, to influence her feelings?
(to be continued)
Copyright
Len Morgan
