Futanarium 2: An Erotic Short Story Bundle by Maria N. Lang

Author:Maria N. Lang [Lang, Maria N.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Maria N. Lang
Published: 2014-06-05T00:00:00+00:00

The Grove's Gift

“This is just one area you’ve left desolate.”

Serya wrinkled her nose. Black, gelatinous stalagmites composed of rotten leaves, animals and trees met her everywhere she looked. There was no smell to it. In fact, the sludgy, decayed matter seemed locked in time. It was as if some unknown force had swept the forest and crystallized it in a shared moment of decomposition.

She knew the force, and knew that it would have used up every ounce of energy left in the plant matter. That was why there was no smell. There was not enough substance or spirit left in this place even for rot. It was not one of nature’s many, random derelict places. She was the cause, the hand behind the force; the hand that had exploded hundred year-old trunks and stolen the lives of rodents, maggots, worms and a solitary deer, too.

The young elf pushed the hood of her deerskin cloak back, glancing to her sylvan companion. “How many other places like this?”

“I don’t know, druidess. Not exactly. There are large areas dotted around, but innumerable small ones as well.”

Serya sighed. The layer of black, time-stopped blight on top of the earth stopped new life from appearing. It was her duty to correct the devastation she had wrought, even after all she had given to ensure the safety of the forest, and of the surrounding lands. She looked to her right, and up. Despite the scars in the forest, it seemed as if her Nymph companion had not suffered. In fact, she had grown stronger and taller in the three years Serya had been absent. Blonde, naked and beautiful enough to blind lesser creatures, just like all of her kin.

“Anaharae, be honest with me. How much damage have I done?”

The nymph looked wistfully at the ruined landscape in front of her. There was a timeless sadness to her eyes in that moment, as if she was looking at a mass grave filled with the corpses of friends. She responded long after the druid had returned her silent gaze to the bleak scene in front of them.

“Too much, druidess. Last summer, when you called on the water spirit from the stream and it perished, we had drought and flooding for months until a new spirit settled in. Two years ago, when you borrowed the spirit of flame and heat for three days, I woke up with rime in my hair in the middle of summer. When you asked for the wind elemental last autumn, many plants never had their pollen and seed carried to where it was needed. Just three weeks ago, when you asked for life and received it, this happened.”

Anaharae gestured to the blighted, blackened area in front of them. “There are more like it, when you asked for life in the past. But none as bad as this.”

“I was dying, Ana,” said Serya.

“I know. The forest knows. And you’re still here, because we all know you did what you did to protect us. But the price was high.

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