"A Song On The Wind" by: "Yuri Futanari" [a work in progress]
Story by MadameDryIce
A Song on the Wind
by:
Delicious Vodka DeBlair
"Yuri Futanari"
A song on the wind sang to me
A touch in the rain reached out to me
A hope on the horizon pulled at me
A heart in the flame called out to me
A word from your mouth emboldened me
A look from your eyes instilled in me
A touch from your hand empowered me
A wish from your heart commanded me
A voice in the dark spake to me
A cloud in the sky covered me
A flower in your hand caressed me
A scent in your hair it captured me
A night in the wild transfigured me
A day in the garden reminded me
A sigh in the breeze is carried me
A kiss from your lips imprisoned me
And with a vow from your lips you married me.
Episode 1:
Getting to Know You
The Hard Way
In the distant lands of Restoshian lived a young, and rather odd looking girl of fourteen who was the daughter of two soldiers.
Rastia Ksiitan was also the oldest of eight children and proud to be a big sister to all of them, but before anything else in life, she was first an foremost, a solder.
Both mother and father had served as common foot soldiers as had their parents and their parents before them.
It had come to be a caste system over the millennia by accident it seemed.
Somehow, soldiers would meet and fall in love and marry and have children who would themselves carry on the family tradition.
It is unknown how long this has gone on, just as it is unknown how long this country had been a monarchy. I simply was and that's how it seemed it was going to stay.
Rastia was a gawky, spunky, flat chested, freckle faced girl with pigtails and an overly exuberant and often annoying personality, but she was a fierce fighter, naturally talented and undyingly loyal to the monarchy she had never yet met.
She held the belief that the ruler was the country, and without the ruler there was no nation and without a nation there was no purpose. She came to this rationalization all on her own. She would tout it to the other children, be they soldiers or not.
She had trained since she could walk and was proficient in everything, but she preferred the spear and glavie type weapons. She liked the additional reach and extension of power she felt it added to her. She would often for hours practice against other weapons forms just so she could hone the weapon skill into a true advantage.
She knew that close in fighting would put normal spear wielders at a disadvantage so she worked extra hard to learn the ins and outs of both using and defending against all other weapons she might encounter.
And even though there had not been a war since her parents were children, it was not wise to be unprepared, so mock wars and tournaments were held every season to prepare the soldiers for the eventualities of all kinds of weather in all kinds of terrain.
Time and time again, in her age division, Rastia won handily and was on her way to the tournament one day when a royal advisor met her along the road walking to the tournament.
“A soldier I take it?” He said as he rode nearby on a fine steed in the scorching noonday sun.
“Yes sir!” she proudly piped up, “And a champion at that!” she boasted.
“A champion, you say?” his demeanor patronizing.
“Yes sir!” she continued unfazed.
“And do you expect to win again this tournament?” he queried light heartedly, not thinking too much of the conversation but that it was a mere diversion of thought from his real task which was to recruit potential candidates for the royal elite guard, since part of his job was to scout out top talent for the replacement of retiring soldiers and officers.
“I always do sir!” she sang forth.
“Always you say?”
“Yes sir!” she proudly responded and added, “This year I am old enough to CHALLENGE!|
“You are, ey?” he mused to him self, “this little girl surely doesn't appear to be fourteen...”
“And who do you expect you shall challenge?” he queried with interest.
To his shock, she casually swiveled her head on her shoulders without breaking stride and with a backward glance indicated the chief of his own royal delegate patrol, “Him sir!”
The patrol officer stumbled and everybody behind him crashed into him sending the whole of them tumbling and sprawling to the ground, but Rastia never broke stride but with a pleasant smile on her face faced back forward and continued walking as if nothing ever happened, her gleaming dragon blade bearing merry little bells which jingled in the wind because she walked so smoothly she seemed to have no gait.
The soldiers all grunting and cursing in anger and dismay hurried to get off one another and back into a sense of dignity with such words as “Get off my face you oaf!” and “Watch where you point that thing!”
The Chief of Patrol reared his dust covered head and glaring at the young maiden in armor growled menacingly and then barked, “Resume formations! March!”
The advisor was not sure if the girl were crazy or
... more on the forums ...