A Cultivation Saga

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Chapter 3

Roswell

He had almost started to snore half-way through the banquet– or meeting, whatever it was he had been forced to participate in. A few mortals had come up the mountains, succeded in getting into the sacred valley, and there had been a dispute about what to do. Even a secret power struggle between the three factions had taken place amidst this uneventful period of time. The latter had not come as a surprise, though. Every now and then– no, every DAMN time they met up, someone had to offend one or another.

All Roswell could think off during the banquet was to get home to his gentle and loving wife, Katarina, and perhaps impart a lesson or two to his disciples while at it. But it came to no surprise things would get even worse than listen to no-value drivel. Robert of Daegon, leader of the first faction, just had to ask him to meet up after the banquet. To discuss important matters of the state, or so the man told him.

Roswell looked down at the gold-lined table and sighed. Fruit, wine, nuts, why was there no damn meat here? She better be cooking up a good old steak for him, his wife, when he came home, or he might go from the hunger pains. Yes, compared to his wife’s cooking, this whole ‘feast’ seemed so dull it made his eyes lusterless.

”Fellow elders, my lord.”

Roswell saw in the corner of his eyes how Robert rose from his chair, bowing farewell for the evening. Fuck, he loathed that man almost as much as he hated Morgana. Both were so proud and unyielding and hard to deal with it that it caused his brain to almost explode. That is why he leaned more toward the neutral faction of the sect and not the ones with Robert and Morgana in the spearpoint.

Seeing Robert leave the hall, Roswell had no choice but to make the bitter choice himself. He grabbed a jar of wine from the table, said his goodbyes and met his faction’s Grand elder’s calm smile. Roswell conveyed the matter of Robert’s request through his eyes. With a faint smile, Michael signaled his understanding and gave his permission for the meeting, whereafter Roswell took his leave, drinking from the jar while at it.

The quiet night was like music for his eyes– and ears. Drinking and flying was never a good idea, Roswell knew this, but there was nothing as nice as that– except matters of the flesh and his wife’s steaks. He gradually flew over to the Daegon estate and landed inside one of the dark courtyards. Once there, Robert welcomed him, dressed in a plain silk robe, with a lantern in his hand and a smile dancing on his lips, gesturing for him to follow. They walked through a myriad of courtyards and hallways before entering the grand elder’s room of cultivation, where darkness reigned and silence loomed.

”There we go.” Robert mused out loud, lighting the ten candles with his cultivation base.

The room immediately turned bright. There was a stove at the far end of the room, Roswell noticed, aligned with dust and covered in sooth. It had clearly not been used for a while.

The Grand Elder sat down in the chair behind his desk. ”Some tea?” he asked.

”It’s alright. No need to wake up the servants for me.” Roswell replied.

”Don’t be like that.” Robert returned. ”You are an Elder, they would be happy to serve you.”

”Grand Elder,” Roswell said in a serious tone. ”What important matters of the state did you seek to discuss tonight? My groin is aching horribly from sitting still so long today. And my wife is waiting for me at home.”

”I’ll get to the point then.” The grand elder pulled forth a sealed scroll from his drawer, putting it on the table. He then looked Roswell straight into the eyes, the blue of his pupils staring into his very soul, and asked. ”Do you know what this is?”

Roswell took a glance. He did not. He shook his head.

”Look again.” Robert unfurled the scroll and allowed him to read the contents.

Unable to hide his shock, Roswell trembled after reading what was written on the scroll. He grasped his black beard and pondered. ”Is this true?” he asked.

The grand elder nodded. ”It can be yours. As long as your vote is mine.”

”I need to think about this. Give me a couple of days.” Roswell admitted.

”Of course, take the time you need. There is no need for us to be in a hurry. When you have decided, you can come find me here anytime. By then I will have tea ready.”

”I will. Goodnight then, Grand Elder.”

Roswell flew out from the Daegon estate, his heart in turmoil.

Once outside their house, he knocked on the door.

His wife opened, wearing a thin silk robe. At the sight of her alluring smile, Roswell rushed in and embraced her, feeling a warmth spread across his whole body – not only warmth but love and yearning as well, erupting from every fiber of his being.

His wife was one of the most beautiful women of the sect; her figure was top notch, her cooking skills beyond imagination, and her face as if sculpted by the gods. Although she was regarded on the same level as that Morgana, he believed she was much much much better. She was kind, gentle, loving, funny; no words were enough to describe her.

”Darling, the banquet was so boring. All I thought of was coming home. To you.” he complained to his wife, who merely laughed in return.

”I’m serious.” he continued as he touched her all over.

She giggled at his fanatic appearance and said. ”What would the other elders say if they saw you like this? They’d say I have bewitched you.”

”Haven’t you, though?” Roswell returned. He lead her into the bedroom, flinging her onto the bed. He took off his robe and crawled on top of her, butt naked. Across his body, a multitude of pink scars ran through, but he knew she didn’t care about that.

”Really?” she whispered into his ear and bit his earlobe. He felt her soft tongue.

He trembled in ecstasy and undressed her. ”Really.” And dove in…

Hot moans intermingled. Roswell released all the pent-up agitation he had gotten from today’s banquet and talk with the grand elder. She crawled onto four, and he took her from behind, holding her waist and feeling the bounciness of her ass from every thrust.

After the deed, and several positions, they lay beside each other without anything to cover up. She snuggled up against him, putting her head on his chest to listen to his heart. He raced through her hair with his finger.

”Robert wanted to win me over today. He wanted me to join his faction – in secret,” he said, slightly absentmindedly. ”I’m thinking about accepting his offer.”

His wife looked up. Her face was flushed from the hot sex, yet carried a tinge of confusion. ”I think might have heard wrong. You are thinking of what, darling?”

”You didn’t hear wrong. I’m thinking of joining his faction when the time comes, and give him my vote.” Roswell said.

”Why?” she asked. ”You hate him don’t you?”

He looked up at the ceiling. The wooden planks were straight and oak-brown, very hard to break. They reminded him of his choice, of the consequences. The horrible consequences. ”He knew what I seek the most in this world. And offered me that.”

”Darling, you don’t mean…?”

”That’s right.”

She caressed his cheek, looking at him deeply with her amber eyes. Her touch was warm and soft, her breath more so. ”We spoke about this earlier,” she told him. ”I have lived a more fulfilling life than I ever thought I would. So what if I only have a few years left? To spend them with you, with the love of my life, I cannot be happier.”

”I know.” Roswell gave her a warm yet sad smile. ”But if I can extend your life for even a day, I will do everything in my power to make that happen. Michael would understand; he is like a father to me.”

”That is exactly why you cannot betray him.” his wife told him. ”That fruit might mean another few years for me, but that vote of yours can mean everything you have built up as an Elder of the sect. All these decades, going up in smoke. Your reputation…”

”What is a little bit of face for another day with you?” he broke out in the laughter of the absurdity. ”How about it, after I get the fruit of life for you, we will leave the sect and settle down by the sea. There we can live out til the day we die; sit in the sun, swim in the sea, grow crops, and perhaps, make a baby. I know it hasn’t gone well over the past few years, but this calm might be exactly what we need for it to work.”

”You really think so?” she asked, her hand trembling on his cheek.

”I do,” he admitted. ”Think about it. A daughter who looks just like you.”

”What if its a boy?”

Roswell shook his head fiercely, grinning. ”No way, I know it will be a girl. She will have your hair, your eyes, my…. screw me, she will get everything you have!”

”Darling…” Katarina couldn’t keep herself from crying. He put his hand on her head and held her against his chest. Even he could not stop the tears from emerging. He looked up at the wooden planks again. Yes, with her, the consequences didn’t seem as scary anymore. With her, he could face anything. Even death.

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