Chapter 121

The commission came from the highest court; no less than that of the king himself. This naturally should have and would have impressed nearly everyone, and been obeyed without question. The warlock Aghnman, however, was not an average citizen. Little known, but highly respected (and feared), it was generally agreed that the man answered to powers other than the political.
Rather than have the dark magician summoned to the castle, a court appointed clerk was sent to the imposing stone mansion in which he resided. The warlock himself was no less imposing, and one could easily believe he too was built out of stone, such was his physical aspect. Perhaps it was only because he was unused to dealing with Moors that made the clerk additionally uneasy.
"The king has yet to recieve an heir," the court clerk explained, hiding his nervousness behind well practiced rhetoric. "There is no question that his new wife can bear a child when the time comes; that is not where the problem lies. Rather, the king, being of a certain age, appears to lack the necessary vital force to carry out the act of procreation."
Aghnman raised an eyebrow, but kept his remarks to himself. Amusing that even here, in private chambers, the poor sod was too afraid to state what was blindingly obvious; the king was impotent. All the more the shame, since, from what he'd seen, the new Queen was more than an ordinary beauty. Even those gifted with the divine right of rule are just as subject to the afflictions of everyday mortals.
"It has been charged that you, having access to arcane arts, should be able to concoct a ..."
"Enough," Aghnman said, cutting off the young man with a curt gesture. "I understand."
Here the warlock paused, his expression suggesting mild annoyance.
"What you ask can be done, but to create such a potion is not as easy as generally believed. It will take time, and considerable effort on my part. Return here after the passing of a fortnight, and I will have what you've asked for."
This, from the clerk's point of view, had to be considered good news. If he refused, that would have been extremely awkward to report to the court. But, as in all things, Aghnman warned, there would be a price. At least the clerk could console himself that he wouldn't have to pay it.
* * *
The glade was secluded and largely untravelled by the likes of man. There were still plenty of such places, despite the growing prosperity and population of the kingdom. Here, on the outskirts of a landowners crop farm, the edge of the forest had yet to be beaten into submission.
He brought out a small lantern that he had concealed under his cloak. At first glance, it appeared to be a very ordinary metal lantern, of the kind used on ships to protect the inner flame from wind and weather. Opening the shutters, Aghnman let loose a cold, pale blue light that most certainly was not from an ordinary flame. He played it against the hedge rows and grass, across the tops of flowers, their colours washed out by the dark and the blue light.
Then the eerie illumination picked out something very different, something previously invisible to the naked eye. The figure of a young woman, not much taller than the length of someone's hand, stood huddled under the cover of Dog Rose. She had a lean pale body, covered in a thin diaphanous white gown that just covered her knees. Her hair was dark, as were her hunted eyes. No doubt she was hugely surprised to be spotted this way. Unless they will themselves to appear, faeries usually can only be spotted by the genuinely innocent and young, or those with a special link to nature.
What surprised her even more was the realization that the same beam that had picked her out, also held her in thrall, unable to move. Her heart raced as the dark skinned human bent closer, peering at her from behind small round spectacles. He nodded to himself, then dug into his cloak. What he produced was nothing so dramatic as a common burlap bag, which he opened up with his free hand. Incredulous, the small faerie watched in powerless horror as the human neatly folded her up within the cloth container. A simple pull of the drawstring sealed her fate.
* * *
The faerie's secret name was Lill -mortals almost never discover a faerie's identity. Names are foisted upon them in the rare cases they are ever captured and kept. She had elegant blue-black butterfly wings, and sleek black hair. She had never known life outside of the glen of her home, and had no conception of what must lay beyond. She was deathly afraid to be sealed up in the dark as she was, and could only huddle into a ball in protection as she was carried into her captivity.
Lill found herself with at least a dozen of her own kind, all packed together in a glass terrarium not much larger than a clothes chest. The floor was covered with soft dirt, with a few sparse plants situated here and there in some attempt at recreating their natural environment. Naturally, faeries would never be packed so closely together in tight quarters. The lack of freedom they now faced was anathema to their nature. All of them looked at Lill with sad and haunted expressions.
It is a little known fact, that the faerie kind do not communicate in the way humans do, with spoken language. Instead, they are aware of themselves and their environment in the manner of the animals they live with; through scent, expression, and movement. Lill could tell right away the state of her fellow captives; their fear, despair and something else Lill couldn't immediately identify.
The variety of faeries the warlock had captured is best described by the sort of wings they possessed. In addition to different shades of skin and hair colour, one of the most important features for the faerie kind are their wings. Some have wings like butterflies or moths, with the same texture and rich patterns. Others have long translucent insect wings, shaped like that of dragonflies or wasps. A special few have feathered wings, like birds, which give the faerie a very angelic appearance. It seems that Aghnman had even captured one of those as well.
There was one additional disturbing detail. The thing that most obviously set Lill apart from her fellow captives, was that she was the only one wearing clothes. Granted, not all faeries chose to wear clothing, but those were typically found in the deeper, primordial forests. Lill was quite certain that no more than one or two of their group fell into that category, which meant they had all been stripped naked by the warlock himself -at fate that Lill was certain must befall her eventually. Humans could be very strange, incomprehensible creatures.
Enclosed in glass, only the wire mesh at the top promised any hope of escape. On occasion, in a burst of hope or simply desperation, one of the faeries would flit to the top and try to force themselves free. Sadly, the wire mesh proved every bit as firm as the clear glass on all sides. Even when they could work their tiny fingers between the fine wires, they didn't possess enough strength to slide the entire barrier back.
* * *
Lill's time came sometime in the mid morning. She had been trying in some futile manner to gain some sleep, when the terrible human that had captured her return to the terrarium. Using the same blue beam of magickal light to immobilize them all, he was able to pluck the slender faerie up from the dirt and carry her to another part of his lab. Outside of the influence of the blue light, Lill was immediately free to move, but the way Aghnman held her in his hands, escape was just as impossible.
Pressing her wings between two fingers, he fixed them together with a thin wooden clip. It was slender and light enough to leave her wings undamaged, but was too strong for Lill to be able to pry her wings apart, rendering her flightless.
Holding her firmly in one hand, Aghnman took up a small, sharp blade and brought it up to her torso. For a heart stopping second, Lill thought her life might be over. Instead, the warlock deftly slid the flat of the blade under her right shoulder strap and neatly severed it. This was repeated for the other, and then, in an even greater act of vandalism, cut a neat line through the entire back of her dress. The gown was left to slide down her body, leaving her completely bare. Compared to human standards, Lill would be considered skinny and frail, with narrow hips and small breasts. Her pubis was devoid of hair, though her cunt was otherwise exactly like that of an adult woman. This fact was observed as he forcibly lifted one of Lill's legs to the side, forcing her to expose her most private parts to his gaze.
"You'll do," Aghnman pronounced, letting her leg drop.
He had his apparatus already prepared. The centre piece was a foot wide wooden disc. Two sturdy wooden dowells were driven into that base, each identical in thickness and height. There were other things crowding near as well, but Lill didn't have time to take it all in, as it was to this little platform that she was thrust towards.
Aghnman strapped the faerie's arms to the top end of the wooden posts, using ringlets of leather that pulled tight over each forearm. Hanging helpless, her legs were drawn apart, and her ankles were strapped near the bottom end of the same posts in a similar manner. Lill found it impossible to escape in this position, and her limbs strained against the pressure of holding up her weight. In the end, she could only slump forward, letting the bonds hold her in place.
For a while, Lill was left alone while the warlock attended to his instruments. Thinking of the knife he had used to strip off her clothes, she was afraid once more at the prospect of dissection. The thought of her tiny organs spilling out her open gut left her shaking in abject fear. No, it couldn't be that, she reminded herself. All of the other faeries in the terrarium, while naked, appeared to have come away from their encounters otherwise unharmed, at least in any obvious way. Her anticipation and worry resolved when he returned, something long and shiny in his hand.
The elegant thin metal rod featured a smooth rounded tip at one end, and a wire trailing away from the other. It definitely wasn't a needle, but it looked nearly as ominous as Aghnman brought it into the light. He opened a small round jar and dipped the smooth end into it. It came away covered in a thin oil, a kind of translucent gelatine. Coming forward, the warlock brazenly opened the faerie's cuntal lips with his fingers while he aimed the rod. Her eyes closed in anticipation of the horrid moment.
Lill felt the cold metal tip of the probe enter her vagina, the slick substance that covered it making the penetration sickeningly easy. It was cold, and though not terribly large even by her scale, still distended her vagina in a way that was impossible to ignore. She opened her eyes, looking down at the long shaft of metal that now protruded from inside her. Aghnman fixed the opposite end of the probe to the wooden base, drawing the wire forward.