That night was the last easy, relaxing night they had.<\/p>\n
The pace of life picked up very rapidly. For the next two weeks, the twins had no such thing as a rest day. Each day, early on, they started with a rigorous exercise routine and sparring sessions; they had intensified lessons, studying geography and all that was known of the surrounding races; they looked over charts and debated on what gear to bring and what to leave behind, and what they might use as trade goods.<\/p>\n
Their parents made sure food wasn’t an issue, and their precious free time was spent as a family, savouring what time they had before the twins would need to leave. Although they didn’t have a set deadline as such, there was the constant, nagging awareness that the longer they waited, the worse the problem would be, the harder to mend.<\/p>\n
They considered travelling companions. The decision was reached fairly early on that they should go with at least one from each breed of Vhark. Thankfully, Srin had been quite correct about his own trial results; although he wasn’t a seasoned fighter, he was already sneaking around wardens thrice his age. That, and the fact that he was a known entity, secured him a place with them, and he, too, was swept up with the preparations, as were the others. The only other near their age was a female Frostkin elementalist; everyone else had at least a half-century to his or her name, and the Stonekin had double that.<\/p>\n
They were all friendly people, at least. Even the Stonekin warrior whose hide was nearly as tough as the Druumat bedrock was amiable and easygoing, though he was even more conscious than most of the gravity of the situation; he had a good number of descendants to consider, after all.<\/p>\n
They managed to arrange a few times when the whole lot of them worked together, and Mulin was wonderfully relieved that they did.<\/em> The thing he’d been most afraid of, when the Consuls had mentioned finding experts to accompany the twins, was that they’d have to accomplish a monumental task with a fractious group; not far behind that, they could have wound up with a group of century-old all-business would-be heroes that wouldn’t take their younger charges seriously.<\/p>\n But no. If Hark had any older-generation feelings toward the younger Vhark in the group, they were like those of a protective uncle. He was well-travelled and world-wise, and he accepted authority graciously when travel routes were being discussed; but he was very aware of his own limitations, and ceded that authority to experts in a field with equal grace.<\/p>\n Mulin made sure to study his manner. The Consuls were, by and large, effective in statecraft, good at pleasing the greatest number of people possible; but Hark had an uncommon ability to keep everyone<\/em> happy, at least for long enough that things got done.<\/p>\n Kisa was next eldest, a Stormkin courier and bard of seventy-odd. She sang; she was a fair negotiator and haggler; she knew a great deal of history, not just for the Vhark but a rather eclectic blend of the neighbouring races.<\/p>\n Her cousin, Vhish, was the quietest of the group. A Flamekin healer who also had a knack for making almost anything edible taste good, she rarely spoke up beyond her areas of expertise; she was quite friendly and pleasant, but she let body language do most of the speaking for her. She had just passed her first half-century the month before, but she was small, lightly built, and had both the proportions and, quietness aside, the mannerisms of someone twenty years younger.<\/p>\n The elementalist, Liri, was much what anyone would expect a Frostkin to be – lithe, but with smoother lines and fewer raw lines than most Vhark. She plainly spent a great deal of time on the surface, flying; apart from Kisa, she had the strongest wings of the lot.<\/p>\n Mulin wished there was more time, but time was one commodity they didn’t have in great supply. He had so many lessons to wade through, so many books and charts and scrolls to pore over, so many things to practise, he barely had time to get food down his throat, never mind drill with the others of his group and get used to working with them. Days felt at times to drag like lead, but the weeks flew by fall too fast.<\/p>\n Eventually, they simply ran out of new things to put on their schedule, and mercifully, matters began to slow. There was actually some time in the evenings to discuss with their parents what they might do once the whole business was settled; likely or not, Mulin still clung to some hope that he could live something resembling a normal life.<\/p>\n “Do we even need <\/em>kings, anymore?” he mused. “The Consulate keeps things running well enough, as do the Archwizards – people who rise to their positions through genuine expertise, not merely because of who they’re descended from. We left that tradition behind centuries ago, and I don’t see why everyone’s so eager to bring it back.”<\/p>\n “There’s something to be said for having a symbolic figure to lead us,” Mother said. “I understand what you’re saying, there’s no doubt there – we have a society that works, we don’t need to spend too much effort overturning it. All the same,” she exchanged glances with Father, “perhaps there are some things that could use a new look. Some things that could benefit from being shaken up.”<\/p>\n “I suppose there’s that,” Kralin sighed, carefully not looking his twin’s way. Mulin, fidgeting in his seat, rather understood.<\/p>\n Maybe there were some things he’d like being rearranged, but it’d seem an awfully selfish proclamation to make, and of sharply limited interest. And too easy to abuse…<\/p>\n It was toward the end of that night that he noticed Mother working in the nursery.<\/p>\n Curious, and in need of some movement after further hours of study, he poked his head in the door, and saw that she was adding coals to the basket.<\/p>\n The nursery hearth had stayed empty since he and Kralin were hatched, but it wasn’t as though he didn’t know where they’d come from. “Mother? Readying the hearth?”<\/p>\n She sat up straight, rather suddenly, and smiled over her shoulder. “Yes, we figured it was finally time. There should be something here within, oh, five days or so, if I remember the feeling right.”<\/p>\n It should be a big thing, he knew. It should be momentous, to learn that he was actually going to be an older <\/em>brother.<\/p>\n There was so much buzzing around in his mind, though, that he just couldn’t work up the proper excitement. It was a strange feeling.<\/p>\n “Mulin?”<\/p>\n Where was the euphoria he’d heard so much about? He was happy, really he was. Why couldn’t he show it?<\/p>\n “I… don’t know what to say, Mother,” he admitted, staring at the hearth. There’d be an egg there before long, just as his and Kralin’s had been. Maturing over the same warm stone. New life, growing in a deceptively fragile shell…<\/p>\n She laughed. “Your eyes say enough, Mulin. Don’t worry. Your father and I will have plenty to keep us busy while you’re gone. And when you come back, we’ll be able to introduce you to your new brother or sister.”<\/p>\n He drifted out into the common room, and momentum carried him on from there, through the halls and upward, past the warded gates, to a rock he’d chanced to sit on a few weeks back.<\/p>\n From there he stared at the sliver of the setting sun, the sky fading to darkness, the moon starting to take prominence in the dimming skyscape.<\/p>\n What was he doing this for? What would keep him going from day to day, when he was far from everything he knew?<\/p>\n At the end of each tiring day… how would he go on?<\/p>\n He’d have thought that knowledge of a sibling on the way would make it all clearer, but he still had no idea.<\/p>\n “Heavy thoughts?”<\/p>\n He started, craning his head around. Liri dipped her head, sauntering over to his perch, still stretching her wings after a flight. “This is becoming a rather long day for you, isn’t it, Mulin?”<\/p>\n “What days aren’t?” he sighed. “They’re only going to get longer heading forward. I need to get used to the notion, really.”<\/p>\n “Oh?” She paused beside him; when he made no move of protest, she settled onto the rock with him. “What makes you say that? We can only cover so much ground in a day, Mulin; we’ll go as fast as is practical, yes, but we’ll be no good to anyone if we wear our wings to the bone.”<\/p>\n “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s… frustrating. I don’t think I’m ready for this. But we should’ve been out and gone weeks back. Every extra day…”<\/p>\n “Mulin…” She rested a hand on his shoulder. “All of us respect you. You’ve been assigned tasks beyond your years, tasks that would be daunting for any <\/em>two people, and you’ve been rising to meet the challenge admirably. But you still need to know how to relax.”<\/p>\n “But – ”<\/p>\n “Mulin.” Her other hand seized his jaw, forcing him to look her in the eye. “You’re frantic. You’re trying to do too much at once. It’s admirable, but it’s also worrying. Your twin is energetic, but he’s not the one who’s gluing this effort together. You are.”<\/p>\n He blinked. “Me?”<\/p>\n “Yes, you. Even Hark defers to you, and he’s the only one of us who’s had experience being a leader. You’re good<\/em> at it; people like you, people trust you.”<\/p>\n “But I don’t know anything,” he complained.<\/p>\n “Nonsense!” She gave his shoulder a shake. “You know who’s good at what. You know what we like, you know how we think. You know all of us better than anyone else in our group – and that will be crucial.<\/em> You’ve encouraged people to acknowledge the expertise of others; but don’t forget to follow your own advice. Let us help you – and when we do<\/em> find this overgrown mana font, as I’m sure we’ll be able to do, then<\/em> those lessons you’ve been cramming will pay off.”<\/p>\n He tried to process what she was saying. The words weren’t that difficult. He’d even used some of them himself. But they slipped through his mental grasp like water.<\/p>\n “You’re trying to spread your attention too broadly, Mulin,” she breathed, swinging around in front of him, straddling him, with a hand still under his jaw and her fiery eyes locked on his. “Perhaps it’d help if I gave you a very specific something to focus your attention on, hm?”<\/p>\n He blinked. “What…?” Coherent thought seemed impossible; all the thoughts in his head seemed to fragment and crumble the moment he tried to pin them down.<\/p>\n “You haven’t been doing any of this for yourself, have you? You have many reasons to be going through with this, but they’re all reasons pushed upon you from someone else. You need your own reasons to be a part of this.” She drew a little closer to him. “A child, perhaps? Would you do this for a son or daughter of your own, for the future of your own hatchling?”<\/p>\n “Hatchling?” Guiltily, his thoughts went back to his mother’s hearth. “But I don’t have a – what, you’re not saying…”<\/p>\n “Oh, but I am,” she purred, touching her snout to his jaw, her breath warm over his throat. “You haven’t noticed it, perhaps, but there are many women who’d give a great deal just to bear an egg of your get, Mulin. They wouldn’t even ask you to take time from your life to guard it, nor to raise the hatchling it bears. They just want a chance to bear your<\/em> bloodline.”<\/p>\n “That’s not right,” he protested. “I’m just…”<\/p>\n “Healthier than any three Vhark together?” she suggested. “Magically talented beyond the power of sorcerers double your age? Capable of channelling enough magic to make wizards cringe? Intelligent, strong, swift in the air, handsome, and one of a breed that only arises once in hundreds of years?<\/em> The last Magekin from Surek’s Dynasty have been dead for two centuries, Mulin, and even though they were a shadow of their progenitor, they all<\/em> became Archwizards. Why wouldn’t people want some of that? And anyone who knows you would want it doubly, because you’re a good person. Any female with any sense at all would be eager for a chance to have you sire her young.”<\/p>\n He couldn’t think of a refutation for even one bit of what she’d said, and yet… But one practical concern came to the fore. “We’re leaving the city soon. We can’t – ”<\/p>\n “Can’t be burdened by an egg or a hatchling, not now. True.” Her clawtips trailed along his throat, and he shivered, lifting his chin; she leaned in and gave a lick to the base of his jaw. “And I do have a contraceptive ward. Just bear it in mind, Mulin. I know you’ll be able to have your choice of mates once all this is settled, whatever happens. I’d dearly love to be among that number – not so much for those reasons, though they’re all sensible in their own way. I’ve come to know you, and it’s you<\/em> I’m fond of and interested in. Not a Magekin.”<\/p>\n “Kralin’s a perfectly nice -”<\/p>\n “I know,” she breathed, cutting off his protest with a finger on his muzzle. “Don’t misunderstand me. I like your brother. I’m sure he’d make an excellent mate and father even if he weren’t<\/em> Magekin. But he’s not you.<\/em>” Again her fingers trailed along his jaw. “He’s not the one I want to fly with.”<\/p>\n Her voice, to say nothing of her proximity, made quite clear to him that flying wouldn’t be the only thing going on. Flickers of violet danced over his vision. “Oh. I… I’m not that good a flier, and I haven’t… n-not with a female.”<\/p>\n She laughed, nudging her snout against his. “Those eyes of yours are so delightfully honest. But don’t worry, Mulin; even if I didn’t think you could get the motion quickly enough, I could carry us both…”<\/p>\n He shivered.<\/p>\n “The key question is, though… are you… interested in me that way, Mulin?”<\/p>\n “I hadn’t thought of it, I must admit. But,” it was his turn to seize her jaw, before she could look away, “doing so is… a rather pleasant prospect.” And that was rather an understatement; he wasn’t a very good<\/em> flier, not yet, but he did enjoy the feel of the wind on him. To couple that with sex…<\/p>\n “Rather pleasant?” she repeated.<\/p>\n He managed a grin. She was right; he did<\/em> need to take some time to relax. Even if it’d cut into his sleep, at this point he needed to unwind more than he needed to spend a few more hours tossing in his cot. “Feel for yourself,” he invited.<\/p>\n One of her hands slipped in between them, stroking over his breechcloth. “Oh, quite.<\/em> Yessss. Very nice. So you trust me with this, do you, beautiful?”<\/p>\n “I’m going to be trusting you with rather more,” he mused, “over the next few weeks or however long. Simply keeping me aloft is a small thing. Introducing me to the female body is… a bigger thing, but yes, I can trust you for that.”<\/p>\n “In that case…” Her fingers trailed up along his stomach and chest, claws trailing; she nudged her nose against his. “Catch me if you can!”<\/p>\n And suddenly she whirled away, shedding her clothes in the space of a few breaths. She was running for takeoff before he even got to his feet, airborne by the time he could make a concerted effort to undress. And she turned lazy circles over his head, her laughter falling down to reach him.<\/p>\n He had enough presence of mind to weigh their clothing down with a web of force; there’d be no shame if someone saw them at this, though there might be some teasing, but walking unclad through the halls would be rather more embarrassing.<\/p>\n He could do that easily enough while on the run, though, so it didn’t delay his efforts to get airborne.<\/p>\n His wings swept down, cupping air, giving him a light boost off the ground; then the air itself caught them on the upward stroke. Up he went, at first on a gentle arcing course, but as he gained speed, so too he curved more steeply upward, his eyes fixed on that blue glimmer.<\/p>\n She was much more skilled than he, but his wings were longer; they gave him more lift, lift that he could trade for speed. He was no expert, but he did have the physical advantage.<\/p>\n Which did him little good when he hurtled right past his quarry, and her laughter chased him along as he swept around.<\/p>\n In the end, it was, of course, she who caught him, after the third attempt or so; she slid underneath him, grinning over his shoulder, wings wavering just enough to keep lift, staying low enough to be out of his way. He imitated the motion; he couldn’t manage more than a nearly-level glide, but that was enough for his arms to slip around between her wings and her body, enough for her tail to slip between his legs and coil around his own.<\/p>\n It didn’t matter that he’d never before mated on the wing; she brought them together with hardly any effort at all, and it was wonderful. The thrill of flying, the euphoria unique to that full-body exertion, was an amazing counterpoint to his arousal, and the caress of wind on his hide and the thinner skin of his erection had only added to both. Now, he slid about halfway into her with scarcely a pause, and he didn’t even need to worry about the act beyond that; the waver of their wings kept them shifting against each other – not the firm thrusts there might be if he were carrying her, but enough to keep a delicious tingle coursing through him, enough to make one or the other of them falter in their careful wingbeats as sensation struck just so.<\/p>\n They flew as one entity with four wings, his held a little higher than normal, hers canted downward; his swept back, hers forward, scarcely more than wavering in place, tilting to shift the flow of air over the taut membranes. He never slid in any farther than halfway, but this, he recalled in a whimsical moment of clarity, was exactly why they had so much length to begin with; as it was, their most sensitive portions were right against each other. It was a challenging formation, and that distracted somewhat from the sexual element; it made the pleasure that much gentler.<\/p>\n And it made the sudden rush of climax that much more shocking for catching him unaware.<\/p>\n Shocking, and yet even that wasn’t as intense as normal, nor did it leave him feeling drained; to the contrary, he felt even more charged than before. Again and again they ambled through the air over the underground city, and somewhere around the fifth time, he stopped even keeping count of how many times climax struck him.<\/p>\n All that mattered was that both of them were very, very satisfied by the time they touched ground again. His loins ached from churning out so much of his seed – not that he’d had much if any to offer, the last few rounds – and his flight muscles burned from the unaccustomed strain; not just the length of the flight but its precision was far beyond his usual.<\/p>\n A careful rubbing from her hands, and a quick twist of magic to heat the muscles in the process, at least mitigated the latter.<\/p>\n They dressed and trudged back into the city, where they parted ways. It was almost midnight by the time Mulin made it back to his parents’ burrow; everyone else was fast asleep, even – maybe especially – his twin.<\/p>\n It had been time well spent, though. Once he’d settled himself, he fell almost instantly into a more restful slumber than he’d known in days.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" As the pressure to leave mounts, Mulin finds himself straining under it, and in need of a reminder to relax.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[8],"tags":[12,16],"class_list":["post-17","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-mageborn","tag-adult","tag-mf"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=17"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":19,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/17\/revisions\/19"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=17"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=17"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/furry-tales.net\/shurhaian\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=17"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}