Duality

[Madyrn]

It was early evening in the seedier part of Radasanth’s bazaar district. The moon was low in the sky and the setting sun still cast an orange glow above the ocean’s horizon. The district was shutting down for the night, and most of the merchants had packed up and returned home for dinner and sleep, only to return in the morning.

The nightlife was just beginning.

Palace was a Fallien-themed, bustling establishment which on the outside appeared wholesome enough. Purple drapes gently billowing in the wind ushered the clientele inside, where a thick, muscled dwarf stood with a morningstar on his back. He was only there to maintain order and deter the troublesome; beyond him existed a world of decadence and excitement.

The main room was large, filled with all manner of comfortable seating, naked, dancing women of all races, and dangling pink drapes. Magical light emanated from the walls and the ceiling, seeping from designs of women chiseled into the brick. It was a popular place for lonely, seedy men – and for those who just wanted a thrill for a few bucks.

Private rooms were in the back at additional cost. Madyrn was in one of them. He was not alone.

His woman was elven as well. Long, silver hair spilled out over the pillow behind her head, sweat dripping into the roots and matting it. Her eyes were closed. They were pretty. She was pretty.

Her breasts moved with the rhythm of their act. She was unnecessarily loud, probably in an effort to please her client, Madyrn, who stared at her with such dull boredom that if she saw him she would have wondered how he was maintaining his erection. He would have wondered, too, if it had crossed his mind.

It was all so dull, this process. It felt good in a sense, but something in Madyrn desired more. More than this charade she was giving him, this false expression of pleasure and excitement. Did people find this exciting?

He looked at her throat. It was attractive. He imagined the blood coursing through it, excited blood that was racing with the beat of her heart, pumped through her veins. Forced. He put a hand on her neck, feeling it. He rested a thumb against her throat and pushed a little too hard. She gagged.

“Hey,” she said, miraculously forgetting about her performance. “Be careful, hon.”

She resumed her showboating. Madyrn found himself infuriated by it. Also: flaccid.

He grabbed her by the throat with one hand, gagging her with the other. He applied so much pressure that she could not make a sound. Her eyes bugged out of her head, but they were still very pretty. She didn’t last long; when Madyrn’s erection returned, neither did he. He made a small cut on her neck so that he could sample her flavor.

His groan of pleasure was not at all faked, not at all a performance. That was the way it was supposed to be.

When he left the Palace, it was with such calm confidence that nobody suspected he had done anything wrong. The next client would discover the whore’s body, but the Palace had many rooms. They would never know who had been the last customer in there.

[Slavegirl]

She was starting to become more than a little sick of this city. At first, Natalya had been amused by Radansanth’s little quirks. The tall buildings, the smoky air and dirty gutters, the grimy children squabbling for a handful of coins thrown at them in the worst parts of town, and the overdressed women parading for their merchant husbands (or maybe his competitor?) in the so-called best parts of town - it all left Natalya feeling bored. Not disgusted or world-weary, just bored. If the world was going to be full of sin, couldn’t the sin at least be a bit more interesting, a bit more sordid?

The bazaar district was the only area still twisting itself into dirty little knots around its dingy heart and sinful citizens. Somehow this was always where the former slave found herself, and tonight was no different. The sun had set a couple of hours before, not that anyone could have noticed - it had hidden itself behind the clouds all day like a petulant teenager refusing to emerge from her bedroom. Every so often, a spattering of raindrops would send people running for the nearest tavern or shop until the shower subsided a few moments later. The sky couldn’t decide if it wanted to weep yet, but the distant rumble of thunder hinted at the possibility of a temper tantrum later.

Natalya, her silk tunica flowing around her in shades of blue and grey to match the stormy weather to come, barely flinched as the raindrops fell. After so many years of snow in her boots, and ice down the back of her neck, the warm rain falling here was blissful. Anywhere was better than Berevar, where Natalya was positive they might have invented sin. Even their sin was too much for her - slavery was one thing she could not abide. She would sooner be tortured to death.

Tonight though, standing outside this poor example of a whorehouse, she hardly remembered the days before she had been free. Natalya was more focused on the establishment before her, its hand painted sign declaring it to be known only as Palace. They were trying for a feel of the desert, probably Fallien, with glass beads and shades of gold everywhere, the smell of sandalwood and patchouli rolling thick from the silk curtains at the doorway. More interesting and intense than the stench of the incense were the thoughts and emotions of the employees and patrons of Palace.

It had become a guilty pleasure for Natalya. Beyond a habit now, it was to the point of addiction for the telepath. She would come to a place like this, and like a sunbather at the beach, Natalya would soak up the filthy thoughts and wicked emotions, the pleasures and pains of the clientele of each brothel and tavern. Each tiny sliver, the dusty flecks of each person’s mind would fill Natalya’s own, seething through her veins and leaving her quivering in the aftermath. It wasn’t the men in their moment of greatest pleasure, or the women as afterward they reached a peak of their own, but the lies and indiscretions, the fear and shame and thrill of what they knew was considered wrong.

He was different. This golden haired elf, he was different. Terribly beautiful, painfully almost, turning heads as he passed. So out of place in this part of town, but not hiding his face. Not flaunting it either. And he was not ashamed. He was not afraid. He did not care what others thought of what he did. In fact, even someone who did not have Natalya’s abilities could have told if they watched his face that he was bored.

Intrigued, she filtered out the thoughts of all the others, pushing them away like an addict tossing out so many vials of whatever else might be offered for a particularly precious poison. Of course he would take a private room, unlike most of the men who came to a place like this. Although they were ashamed secretly of what they did, their own pride and bravado would not let them appear as if they were hiding their sins. This elf on the other hand would not be interrupted by the glances and stares, much less the noise, of the other patrons.

He paid a pretty penny for the one they gave him, and Natalya thought she would die of boredom - both hers and his. She would have asked for her money back as little as he seemed to enjoy it, no matter how breathtakingly beautiful this specimen was. Withdrawing a bit from her current obsession, Natalya crept into the girl’s mind, made her cry out a little louder, buck her hips a little wilder, sweat and flush, just to see how he would react. To her surprise, he saw through it as an act, but the girl, thinking it was her idea just kept it right up, not noticing for a second how bored her john looked.

The thrill that went through her when he placed his fingers around the whore’s throat and squeezed the first time left Natalya breathless. She thought she would pass out from the strength of his reaction, it left her reeling after the hollowness of his prior behavior which had so interested her. She threaded in the terror and confusion of the whore, plaiting it together with his overwhelming pleasure together for a drug she had never dreamed could be created. The ride he took the telepath for left Natalya dizzily leaning against the wall across the street as he emerged from the brothel’s curtains.

Looking up at the perfect golden haired elf, she smiled, her lashes low and her voice husky. He’d probably think she was just another whore. Let him.

“I don’t think I would have ever guessed that someone as beautiful as you know you are, could only get off by doing something so wonderfully gruesome,” Natalya murmured as he walked past her, wondering if he would even pause to consider her words. She pulled a black handkerchief from somewhere within the many layers of multi-colored grey silk.

“By the way,” a little more loudly this time, “Might want to take care of that blood by your mouth. They haven’t found her yet, but someone is headed to take his turn with her now.”

[Madyrn]

The cool breeze of night wasn’t the only thing that greeted Madyrn as he left the Palace. His typical route home took him through the alleyway just across from the establishment; it was a hangout for whores who couldn’t get a job inside, dealers of forbidden herbs and liquids, even an occasional mercenary.

So it was no unusual thing to see a prostitute standing against the wall near the mouth of the alley, writhing in drug-induced stupor, trying to conjure images in Madyrn’s head of her naked body below him. She, like the last, disgusted him – but he was spent. He paid her no attention.

He’d expected a catcall of some sort, a beckoning whisper or a suggestion that she was wilder than any of the reserved whores in the Palace, but that’s not what he heard. Another step would have taken him into the darkness of the alley, where he’d be away from any danger of being found out, but he paused.

Her first words didn’t shock him outright, but her choice in language – gruesome – was what halted him. It could have simply meant that she knew he was beautiful enough to not need to use a brothel, that someone like him need not come to such a gruesome place. When she continued, it became much clearer.

Bathed in the purple light emanating from the Palace’s entrance, the woman had elegant eyes for a human. Otherwise he viewed her as a plain whore, dressed in a tattered dress and watching him with hungry anticipation. He wiped the blood from his mouth with a thumb and dragged it into his mouth to taste it. The dull thump of music surrounded them.

“I prefer for it to be rough,” he mused, a brilliant half-smile just barely exposing his teeth. “Sometimes, they draw blood. It’s a lot easier to pay for my pleasure, to say what it is I want, than to expect a woman in a bar to be willing. Playing rough is not for everyone.”

He reasoned that she’d seen the blood on his face and used it to create a story to grab his attention. It had worked for the moment, but it did nothing to make him desire her services. There was no possible way for her to know what had happened, of course – the private rooms were indeed private, soundproof and with no windows. This was the only possible explanation.

“I give you credit for your quick thinking,” he said, chuckling in a strangely melodic way. “That grabbed my attention more than your beckoning would have.”

He produced a single gold coin and flipped it in her direction, taking a quick glance back toward the Palace as he turned toward the darkness. Hopefully it would placate her long enough for him to disappear down the alley.

[Slavegirl]

Her eyes lightened perceptibly, shifting from deepest violet to pale silvery blue - perhaps just a shift of clouds that let more moonlight through, but her alabaster face stayed shadowed except for the golden light that flooded from the doorway across the street. One arched eyebrow raised for a brief moment, Natalya finding herself amused at the elf’s prideful response, his internal confidence in the secrecy of his most recent conquest.

But pride would only open a doorway for her to play - and play she would this night. Her ability to read emotions, hear thoughts, and best of all to manipulate the thoughts and feelings of her prey, gave Natalya a wonderful advantage. Now she need only decide just how she wanted to snatch his interest back.

Natalya’s icy gaze flickered momentarily to the coin that shimmered at her feet, a chuckle echoing like wind chimes from the elf who now walked away. Oh yes, this would be quite enjoyable. Almost as much fun as she had watching his antics earlier this evening. Perhaps once she pulled him into her little game, he’d voluntarily play more. Then the real fun could begin.

“I’d say rough might be a bit of an understatement, wouldn’t you, Madryn?” she knew using his name would stop his rapid departure, “She would definitely have said so, but she was too busy gasping for breath around her crushed windpipe. Would you like to see it again? To relive your moment of pleasure?”

Bee-stung lips parted slightly to reveal an amused smile, one which could almost be called a smirk. The former slave lifted her chin, and took a breath before she let her mind twine around his like a parasitic vine. With a small shudder, she brought the memory of his time with the bawd out of the past and into the present, allowing him to relive it. There was one difference, only a small one in Natalya’s opinion - this time, he was in the harlot’s mind, her body, and he could see and feel everything as she had.

“You might want to brace yourself Madryn,” she warned the elf, using his name, knowing it was the only way he would hear her as he was immersed into the depths of his own depravity.

And so it began.

When she saw a client like this golden haired beauty walk in, it made all of L’ealdynn’s regrets about becoming a whore fade into the background. Rarely did she see elves in her profession - half elves, yes and frequently, but never one like him. He did not introduce himself or try to ply her with small talk. Neither did he appear ashamed or virginal, although he was as untouched and pure as the golden rays of the sun.

She led him to the large bed that occupied the majority of the private room and laid herself down on the bed before him, the sheer robe she wore falling away to reveal the perfection of her body. Her skin was milky white, smelled vaguely of night-blooming jasmine, her cheeks rouged to appear flushed with anticipation. Her eyes were pale jade, the irises rimmed with black. Her heart thudded loudly with excitement, hoping impossibly for this elf to somehow realize she didn’t belong here and take her away like the fairy tale prince in all her dreams. He didn’t treat her tenderly, he treated her like a business deal and nothing more.

All she could do was bring out her best and try to impress him with it, and for a brief few moments she felt as if she remembered everything she had ever learned in this profession all at once. She writhed and grinded against him, hoping he would be impressed and delighted with her.

At first she thought she’d finally gotten his attention, but suddenly he pushed hard against her throat, black tendrils weaving into her vision from lack of oxygen. Maybe this made him happy - if it left no marks and didn’t hurt too badly, then she’d endure it. She warned him, in case he didn’t realize just how rough he’d gotten.

L’ealdynn was surprised to find herself once more at his mercy, this time though, he was obviously intent on more than just a little rough play. She struggled against him, , as her heart raced with panic instead of pleasure. She tried to scream, her hands batting uselessly against his chest, her legs pinned beneath him, but his hand covered her mouth and she had no breath to put behind it. Her heart would have beat out of her chest, she was quite certain, if she could have breathed even one tiny gasp of breath. Instead, she felt it flutter against her ribs as her windpipe was crushed, the blood in her veins slowing.

It stopped at the same moment her murderer finished with a groan.

[Madyrn]

He stopped. Madyrn was careful not to give his real name to most people, and generally only gave it to those he planned on killing before they had a chance to share it. Before he could respond, the darkness and noise of the alley melted away and he was in a new place.

It was familiar. Of course it was. This was where she spent all of her nights, earning good money for a service she liked to provide. L’ealdynn long ago gave up trying to convince people that being a whore was just another way of life, providing a service she didn’t mind providing to those who were willing to pay for it. She’d also given up on enjoying sex the way she used to; the years had melted into each other so completely that she wasn’t sure how long she’d been doing this.

One thing never went away, though, and it was these fantasies that occasionally came over her. The idea of being whisked away to another land by a man completely enamored of her was so romantic, so exciting, especially when observing a man so well sculpted by nature as Madyrn was.

He had completely become her and had no sense that he was watching something occur. The elven male believed he was L’ealdynn, and he experienced her pain and trauma as truly as she herself had. When the illusion faded away and Madyrn was in control of himself again, it took every ounce of discipline he had to remain stoic and calm.

He didn’t like the experience. He felt molested, impure, as if a foreign hand had reached deep into his soul and manipulated his very emotions and left a taint there. Moreover, he suddenly knew what it was to die. His mouth was dry and his eyes were set, jaw clenched. Madyrn tore his kukri out of its sheath on his chest, spun, and approached the whore.

His golden eyes were aflame with a repressed, earnest desire to take her life. Yet he didn’t try to, calming himself as much as possible and merely waving the knife in the air between them. “What are you? This is… magic. How did you put my eyes into her body like that?”

Still, the elf couldn’t quite wrap his head around what had occurred. He had no experience with psionics of any sort. “Don’t do it again. Do it again and you will choke on your own blood.”

His emotions were up and down. In one instant he was calm, became furious, then confused. He would have been too distracted by them to notice the dwarven bouncer’s surprised bellow, but his ears were so keen that the sound gave him pause. It seemed to set him right again, and he sheathed the kukri.

There had to have been a reason why she reacted like she did. When he came out of the Palace, Madyrn noticed that the woman appeared to be in a drug-induced euphoria. He remembered this well, wanted to know how her abilities had made her feel such pleasure.

“Wonderfully gruesome, you said,” he reflected, retreating into the alley. His voice was calm again, low and composed. “Come with me. Explain just how wonderful it was.”

[Slavegirl]

The former slave did not even flinch as Madryn drew his blade. He wouldn’t have made it far with the kukri before it clattered to the ground, the illusion of pain so strong in his mind that he thought his hand was burning. At the moment such chicanery wasn’t necessary, and Natalya stood patiently, leaning against the wall behind her as though waiting for him to continue.

“Magic?” she repeated scathingly, “How quaint. Is a wolf’s ability to hunt, or a bird’s to sing magic? No, it is simply what they do. A dancer dances, a fighter fights, and a psion plays with minds. It is simply who I am. There is no magic, it does not come from anything outside of me, it comes from within.”

Natalya stepped toward him, placing the kukri at the base of her throat where her pulse raced still. The corners of her mouth were turned upward in a smile in response to his threat.

“I don’t believe you’re quite done with me yet,” she purred, “But you can try to do away with me if you’d like.”

The dangerous game had to stop for the moment though, because upstairs the body of his paramour had just been found. Madryn reacted before she did, simply because Natalya waited until the alarm was actually sounded.

Following him into the alleyway, she was careful to send hallucinations of footsteps and shadows running in the opposite direction to those who might be coming for Madryn. Natalya was in no danger of course, except for perhaps loitering, but they would never catch her. She supposed she could just let them have him, but as before the elf still intrigued her. And his curiosity now was enough to keep her entertained.

When they were far enough, she caught at his arm and pulled, slowing him until they almost stopped, as if on a lovers stroll. Their pursuers were nowhere nearby.

“You’ve asked me two questions, so I will answer them in the order you posed them,” Natalya told him, ducking into a tavern that she knew wouldn’t be terribly busy this evening because dinner hour was over and they were a bit expensive for the drunk crowd.

The owner watched her warily, noting her lithe form and dangerous movement with a keen eye - he wasn’t stupid, or human, and knew exactly what she was likely capable of. She nodded respectfully to him as she slid into a booth, waiting for the elf - who had also garnered a curious once-over from the owner.

“I’m a telepath,” she explained finally, “I can experience people’s thoughts and emotions, as well as their memories. I can also manipulate those things should I need to.”

The barmaid brought her a glass of chilled vodka, giving evidence to Natalya’s previous visits to the place, and then looked silent askance at Madryn, waiting for his request. The mousy little thing tried to hide her curiosity and awe at why such a beautiful man could be sitting at one of her tables.

“For your second question,” she continued after the waitress had disappeared behind the bar, “I’m not sure if you refer to the enjoyment of your particular experience tonight, or if you are referring to my… addiction in general - you seem to have a curiosity about it.”

As she spoke, it became increasingly evident Natalya was not native to Corone. Her mannerisms were different, her movement strangely fluid, and her accent was roughly barbaric, guttural but somehow still as graceful as the way she moved.

“It is difficult to find the right words to tell you - I might sometime have to show you what pleasure I receive from leeching other’s emotions and thoughts from them as they experience them,” Natalya frowned, creasing her perfect brow, “You though, this night… Madryn, it was not what I had expected.”

[Madyrn]

It was the type of establishment Madyrn frequented often, but he hadn’t ever visited this one in particular. Radasanth’s taverns were many in number, each competing hard for business in a city with several districts for nightlife.

Hardwood tables and warm, wooden walls set this one apart from more modern taverns. Large candles lit the tables and created a relaxed atmosphere for conversation – as a result, couples frequented and the place was considered a dating hot spot. That considered, however, nobody would have assumed that Madyrn and Natalya were a couple. They had a disconnected air about them, as business partners or associates do. As good as they might have looked together, there was no warmth between them.

He ordered nothing when they sat, dismissing the waitress without as much as a glance in her direction. The slightest attention from him would have had her beaming, but Madyrn was not even aware of her attraction. She came and went like a breeze he didn’t bother to acknowledge.

He’d picked up on the fact that she was not Corone native, but he couldn’t place her origin. The elf had limited knowledge of the world, and his knowledge was restricted to his immediate area and what he knew about himself. His mannerisms and grace were inherited, not developed, as if they’d been predetermined.

So he’d never heard of a telepath before, and was amazed by this new information. He retained a calm and stoic exterior, however, not yet realizing that Natalya likely knew his true thoughts on the subject.

“So you leech the feelings of others,” he said. His initial reaction was one of disgust, but he quickly changed his opinion to one of curiosity. He really couldn’t blame her for what she did.

His voice dropped to a low volume which the others couldn’t hear. “What I did, tonight… It has happened before, many times. I don’t lose control or black out, but I give in and become methodical. I do things that, for whatever reasons, help me enjoy myself. I don’t even feel for this woman I killed, and the pleasure I derived was so… fleeting. It’s gone already. I’ll probably do this again tomorrow.”

The candlelight lit up Natalya’s face in a way which complimented her, bringing out features in her face that until now, Madyrn had purposely ignored. The dancing light made them obvious, impossible to ignore. He still didn’t realize he couldn’t hide his perceptions from her, so he pretended not to notice with expert deceptiveness.

“It’s as if once I give in to the urge to draw blood, it just happens. I become someone different for a time, and don’t feel like myself again until I’m away from the scene.” He leaned a bit closer, so that his golden eyes reflected the candle’s flame. “I remember what happened, and I remember where it happened. What I don’t remember is how we got here and when we arrived. Until now my mind was in another place.”

He paused. A movement to his left caused him to sit up abruptly, but it was only the waitress. They made eye contact and her heart fluttered for an instant, and she nervously asked if he was sure he didn’t want anything. Madyrn shook his head and smiled wide, sending her away with a grin pasted on her face. The elf turned back to this new woman, whose name he still did not know.

I’m only telling you this because I know that you already know, he thought, trying to rationalize his own behavior. He’d never confronted this side of himself before.

[Slavegirl]

Typically, Natalya would be amused by Madryn’s perception of her face. It wasn’t specifically vanity, but she did enjoy knowing people thought she was beautiful, and it was quite different than viewing herself in a mirror. At the moment though, she dismissed his appreciation of her candlelit alabaster skin and high fine cheekbones. What he said was more important than what he thought.

Frowning, she searched Madryn’s face, then looked into the flickering glow of the candle on their table. Was her recollection his experience actually Madryn’s experience, or someone else’s who just hid in the darker parts of the elf’s mind? Natalya honestly wasn’t certain. What the elf described was similar to the minds of those poor wretches in the Radasanth Sanatorium, retreating to the back of the brain and letting some other personality take over because of some trauma they’d been forced to experience, or (according to the doctor or priest) some evil in their soul.

“You really don’t remember anything between Palace and here,” she confirmed grimly, “But how could I not feel or see that? If you have someone else, some beast… but you’d know it too wouldn’t you? And be ashamed of what it did?”

Natalya shook her head, looking back at him again. It was perplexing. He wasn’t a vampire or any other creature that had a physiological need or thirst for human blood, of this she was certain.

“I honestly don’t know,” the former slave admitted, “Maybe if I … if I’d have known to look.”

Natalya hadn’t noticed any change in the emotions and thoughts emanating from the elf, but he had told her without any deception that he did not remember leaving Palace or arriving at this tavern. Wouldn’t it have been like being around two different people? In her experience it usually was.

“What if,” Natalya pondered, taking a long drink from the glass of vodka the waitress had brought, “What if we tried an experiment?”

Her pale blue eyes settled on the waitress, and her head tilted to the side as if measuring something about the mousy little thing. The girl was obviously enamored of Madryn, and would probably leap at the chance to be taken to his bed. Natalya’s heart beat a bit faster at the thought of yet another dose of the drug she’d had earlier, her breath catching in her throat.

“I don’t normally ask permission,” she told the elf slowly, “And honestly I can think of an easier way to do this, or at least faster. But I think we’d both enjoy my way better.”

So far his curiosity had been her ally. Perhaps this would leave enough questions in his mind that he would agree to what she had in mind.

“I could simply go into your mind, like I did earlier when I showed you what your friend from the Palace experienced, and I could find that other part of you - if it’s in there,” Natalya told him quietly, “Or you could invite your admirer over there to somewhere a little more quiet, and I could come along for the ride.”

For the first time in the night, Natalya smiled her full smile at him, blindingly sincere. Anyone watching the pair would have thought she had sealed a deal to sell something worth millions, nothing so grisly as taking an innocent girl and using her for their deceptive and terrible experiment.

Distractedly, Natalya’s mind touched that of the waitress, who still though of Madryn and his charming smile. Nobody would even miss the girl.