[Ferris]

Hegre watched the woman glide peacefully over the rolling fog carpet that stirred at his legs, her face hidden by a dark emerald robe that covered her from head to toe. Her hands, which wavered above her head in a dance of suggestive carnal inflame, were a soft silken powder of alabaster and cream. He watched as flashes of slender thigh and intimate curve of buttock darted from her swaying robe. His arms dropped to his sides, keen edged blade frosted and blunted in the cold air.

Her hips swayed and pulsed with flexes from her knees, the startling curve of her soft bosom teasingly revealing themselves in the writhing dance unfolding before him. Lips slightly parted, softly slipping the robe from over one shoulder, tantalizingly near to showing one tight, flowered nipple, she flashed a smile, the robes seemingly as one with her soft skin.

Soon, should she choose him for such a secret, all that man feared would be revealed to him. Like a child receiving a gift from it's parents, Hegre unveiled her soft form in the eye of his mind, disrobing her slowly, yet so fast that his mind played tricks with his eyes.

Eyes closed, she drifted forwards, one arm stretched before and after her slender figure, the robe pressed smooth over her chest and thighs, revealing all but color and definition to his weary eyes. Slipping his helm off, he dropping it to the floor with a muted, silent grace, and pressed his blade into the earth before him, driving it with a gentle firmness.

Lovingly, he caressed her outstretched hand with his own, the cold harsh reality of steel against the manly incitations of her tenderness. He knelt on one knee, both hands clasping the earthed sword before him. Lowering his head, she whispered into his ear.

"What is it that you seek, lover?" He had no need to answer, "Is it the truth of the emblazoned future, the fruit of your loins on the world, or perhaps the truth to wealth before those men who have taken it and abuse it?"

He shook his head, eyes still sealed tight. She knew what it was he was after, yet it was wise to keep his mouth shut until she had finished. She had knelt before him, everything up to her thighs visible to him as he flicked open curious eyelids.

"Oh you poor soul, you seek something far more important. In truth, you are perhaps the first to be so honest with your request... certainly the least selfish... but what, I suppose, would you do with the knowledge you seek?" She stood tall, her softness pushing against the crown of his head. He bit back the urge to take her firm hips in his arms and kiss her from navel to lips. Either direction, he felt both would suffice.

"I wish to look upon and into your eyes, goddess. The world we had both known is shifting in time and space, gods have come and gone, man has settled with one such deity. We have fought for him in lands as dry as the sun, whose people are dark skinned and black bearded. They keep their women covered from head to toe in black robes, and pray to a god who incites them crush all of the Christian world."

He sighed before continuing.

"The old gods are dead, or dying in slow long strokes of the executioners axe. They are poised with neck to block and wait for their turn. The world has forgotten the old ways, and the deities of yore are struggling to bite back one last time. Even now, the city I reside in is under the assault from the amorous aggressions of the dark tanned men. The God my people pray to seems to have abandoned us, I have never forgotten the old ones... but now it seems I am a desperate man with words that bleat out in desperation!"

There seemed only silence from the woman, whose very being radiated a smile larger than the sun. No mischief passed over her sublime face however, for the world was in need of a caress from the ancient world. Hegre had started to weep at his desperation, his soul drifting into the abyss at which all men proverbially edge upon. Compassion flared in the woman's eyes, her lovely limbs twisted as she lifted the weary knight to his feet, tilting his chin up to see his face. His eyes remained firmly shut.

"Hegre, puppet for the gods, listen to my words and gain insight to all men's, when you open your eyes, gaze into mine and see the world as it truly is... when both have been done, and your soul remains intact, take me in your arms and see to me like you would a wife long missed. Throw your soul to the winds and sleep beside me. Take me and have that which man has forgotten in his blind faith to interloping beings."

So, listening to her words, Hegre lifted heavy eye lids, seeing that the eyes of the woman were a vibrant green, speckled around the pupil with what seemed minute oak leaves. Her skin was pale, but not sickly, her long straight hair a hazel red, which rested down by her naval. She had allowed for the robe from her shoulders to slip, revealing all her womanly opulence.

Stifling a gasp, Hegre took from his chest the weighted chain and plates of steel to undress down to his under gown. From there, the woman slipped one hand forwards loosening the ivory gown from the front.

Though he had slept with a woman before, he found it hard to incite himself simply for the pleasure of this woman... life had been drilled into him, behavior was paramount in the service of god. Religion, which had hold of his desires, was seeping away like a leaf on the rivers edge. Discipline, so long driven into him, was like butter on the searing roast. It was pulling him, the urge to take this woman and the fight for the religious front.

A duty to defend the holy lands was blurred with the needs of a man. She seemed to understand. Trailing her long soft hair over his chest and face, gently pushing her lips to his skin, caressing light kisses flickered down his chest.

He gripped her by the hips, slipped them both to the cold floor and ripped the garments from them both.

Reality restored, Hegre looked up from where he had knelt, casting his gaze over the war torn farmlands before him. They smoldered with a pent up rage, fueled by the righteous faiths that had divided them. The tumultuous battle raged around him, but like the paragon of hope, he was not struck, nor faced by adversary or friend.

His war, the war for the purity of mankind, had just begun.