Missing Information


Here are the posts for the topic 'missing information' from my mailing list, Fantasybits.

by JacLyn Jones (jasujo@hotmail.com)


     He took another large swig from his mug and slammed it on the table. A small stream of bitter ale ran down the corner of his mouth and he raised a thick hand to brush it aside. He sluggishly lowered his heavy head into his hand. His warm, sweaty palm caressed his forehead. The man's dark hair fell to encase his face in a barrier from the rumble of the tavern around him.
     "Another ale, Jarnah?" a feminine voice asked as the owner already cleared his mug and replaced it with a full one. Jarnah looked up at the petite woman, her soft creamy fur-covered breasts barely concealed as she set the vessel in front of him. His famished mind thought how nice it would be to pet them, carress them a little. As Sheena stood up, she noticed his glance and her emerald eyes glowed enticingly. She reached up and ran a slim hand through her wavy amber hair and opened her mouth to say something, when Gnarm called her back to the bar with another order. She sighed and reluctantly turned away, giving the weary man one last inviting look as she walked off, her slender tail flirtatiously swishing between her legs.
     Jarnah watched her disappear into the crowd, a warm sensation beginning to stir in his loins. His ale-clouded mind disrobed her luscious body and he absently licked his lips.
     Suddenly, a white flash engulfed his vision and he silently cried out in pain. Before him, the scene was hazy. A beautiful woman stood there. She had long golden-blonde hair and large creamy wings. She wore a loose white shift and smiled down at him with carmel eyes. She looked too peaceful, standing there as the setting sun cast a glow to her pale skin and the breeze drifted around her, tossling her hair and dress. Two young girls ran up behind her and swung against her legs from opposite sides. They were similiarly attired and looked like miniture copies of their mother. The woman bent down and hugged them and they all playfully giggled and looked to Jarnah lovingly. A small boy hopped onto Jarnah's lap. He had the dark hair and sky blue eyes of his father. Jarnah grabbed him, threw him into the air and faithfully caught him. The little boy squealed in delight. The family laughed as they basked in the pure happiness of the lazy afternoon in the meadow. The white flash, just as suddenly, returned.
     Jarnah grasped his head, his breath coming in ragged gasps. His large muscles twitched and his body was coated with sweat. "What are these visions that keep returning to me? Are they a family once lost? What has happened to these people? To me? Why am I plagued by this?" he thought, his retched mind searching every corner, only to find emptiness. He growled in frustration and slammed his dark-haired fist against the table. Deep breathes filled his lungs as he tried to calm down. The ragged man sat silently for a few moments, attempting to gather himself. Suddenly, he grabbed his mug of ale and flung it against the wall in frustration. A thump resounded through the inn and Jarnah watched the mug fall to the floor. Something caught his eye.
     As the mug hit the wall, a man sitting nearby had flinched, drawing the large man's attention. Light quickly sparkled from a ring on the stranger's hand. He glared at the hand, first in irritation from interrupting his anger, then in horrified interest as he noticed the ring. It was a silver dragon wrapped around a deep blue sapphire. A silver dragon wrapped around a deep blue sapphire . . . Something unknown, yet feral clicked in Jarnah's mind and he leapt at the man. An unsurfaced memory had been triggered. He lifted the man by the neck, knocking the bench over, and pinned him against the wall. The ring began to glow with an eiry pulse as the man mumbled in a foreign tongue and struggled to break free, fear wrestling with concentration in his eyes. Jarnah just grasped the man, his strong fingers squeezing around a clammy throat, his senses having left him, chased out by an overwhelming wave of anger and hatred. The fingers tightened slowly, methodically as the man grew paler.
     The room grew black as Jarnah was overcome by a force from behind.

     * * * * *

     He groggily opened his eyes. His head swam and his vision was blurry. Jarnah groaned as a numbing pain stretched through his skull. As his vision cleared faintly, he could make out a stone-walled room. Bookshelves filled with thick tomes were scattered here and there, along with tables covered in strange apparatus that he couldn't make out in his current state. A soft tickling danced across his chest and he looked up. A woman stood there, her long ebony hair cascading onto his chest as she leaned over him. His vision cleared and his body flinched, recognizing the face. He struggled, but soon realized he was bound fast to some sort of wooden table. He gritted his teeth as she leaned closer. The tickling sensation danced down his body as she lightly drifted a feather along his bare frame, paying special attention to the area now only covered by a loincloth. She brought the raven's feather slowly back up and circled his face, an unnerving smile painted across her ruby lips.
     "Welcome back, my sweet. I've missed you," she purred. The candle light cast an eiry sheen on her pale skin. She looked down at him with an evil shimmer in her eyes and gently ran the midnight feather down his forehead, between his eyes, and down his nose. Jarnah tried to struggle again, but felt as if his energy was sapped. His vision blurred again and the last he heard was her soft laughter before his mind disappeared again into the darkness . . .

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