The Lostmoon Chronicles Ch. 02

The Lostmoon Chronicles

Chapter 2

By Aer Snow96

*Hello there again, and thank you for waiting and continuing reading the story.

No sex scene just yet, to put it out there. Still building up to that. Maybe in the next one or two chapters that I'm still writing in the first draft. This chapter is about 1500 words long. As I've said before, I want to include character development, along with progression and not just sex scenes.

**All characters participating in any sexual activities are older than 18 years old and above


Up is down.

Down is up.

This was the sensation, as if tumbling through the vast emptiness. Like a great wave of the ocean, hitting him square in the head, and was swallowed by the rolling ton of water. Body afloat by the clashing of forces, ripping apart his bone muscles and down to the very miniscule of his atoms

Was he even breathing? He couldn't tell.

What was his name? It was a blur.

And just like that, seemingly spanning an eternity in that place between places, it was over.

The sound of some poor soul, hacking and coughing, as if he just nearly drowned. And it took him a while before he realized that it was his own voice, heaving in air he hadn't realized he needed.

Everything was cold and shivering and his nerves were lit with cold electricity. The sound of reality suddenly burst around him as if a bubble had popped with him in it. It felt like he just snapped back into his existence, from that darkness that grabbed him by the shoulders.

Oh God, he really did forget his own name in that brief and yet eternal second, Donnie thought. He repeated his own name over and over his own mind. Donnie, Donnie, Donnie.

Such a frightening and bizarre experience to have forgotten his own name.

He laid there in cold hard stone, etched with what looked like a concoction runes and hieroglyphs, the flicker of fire lit from the torches as three veiled figures stood huddled before him.

But his eyes were not on them.


His eyes was what lay beyond.

For they stood in a circle of columns. All around but with no proper wall, just bare to the mercy of the elements. The architecture reminded him of temples from ancient times. Akin to the Greeks of old. Or the ancient Druids of Europe.

And beyond those pillars, he could see the horizon beyond.

Only it wasn't the same horizon that he was accustomed to.

He only stood there, gazing. Dumb and confused.

Where there was supposed to be the moon and the near constant formations of stars: Orion, the Little Dipper and so on....

It was none other than a colossal celestial body, another planet, dominating half the horizon. Donnie's brows shot up into his forehead, eyes growing wide. As he looked further up, he saw what looked like the moon.

Scratch that. Moons, plural.

H-how...How was this possible?

He shook himself and pressed a nail in his palm, hard. Pain blossomed. Donnie embraced that pain, wishing to shake himself awake from this bizarre dream.

Three, then four beats of the heart and lo and behold, he hadn't woke up.

No, no, no...he wasn't dreaming.

"...he is piercing the veil as we speak," Donnie brought his gaze down. It was the one of the veiled woman. The tall one that stood in the middle.

In the dancing firelight he could tell this much: They were not human.

With a purplish hue to their skins, and the most noticeable pointedly elongated ears that seemed to move and flutter far more agile in comparison to that of a human. As for their facial features, aside from their large expressive eyes (also larger than that of a human), it was hard to tell.

All three were female.

Evident by the curves of their hips and the sway of their breasts. Those measly veils they wore can barely be called decent.

Veils, Donnie called them but they seemed to be an amalgam of different clothing he recognized, forming into something he hadn't seen before. It's as if it was but a singular elongated tassel of silky cloth, warped around their legs forming the illusion of a skirt trailing up, exposing their curves and midriff. Then wrapping around their breasts. And thus forming around their neck as and over their heads, shielding their faces.

He could see their eyes through. It was such a loose cloth that they had little trouble seeing what was in front of them. And that any eyes that lay on them, would have little trouble noticing the pinkness of their protruding nipples through the flimsy cloth.

"....sooner or later he would be able to understand us and him us."

Mind heavy and tongue feeling as if it stuffed in his mouth, he wanted to say something. Anything. To make sense of this....whatever this is. He became aware of a high pitched ringing in his ears. It didn't hurt but he didn't wish to listen to it for long. He shook his head once, twice.

Donnie had always had difficulty conveying his words with people. Stuttering was what people think when they hear of Donnie's name.

But now, it was nothing like that. His head felt heavy as if someone poured liquid cement into his skull and dropped it over the Golden Gate Bridge.

"Y-you...might n-not have to w-wait that much..." he managed to mutter, the heaviness in his ears and tongue dissipating. His mouth tasted weird too.

"Oh! He understand us! Rejoice!" as the shortest, and most probably the youngest of the trio, burst and cast her arms upward as if thanking whatever divine power they worship.

"Hush, girl!" chastised the tallest, her eyes boring into the younger woman like burning coal.

For the longest time, they just stood there.

Watching one another.

He couldn't shake the feeling that they were just as surprised as he was.

"Greetings...Visitor," the tall one stepped forward, cutting the awkward silence with a confident stride. The tallest of them and also probably the oldest. Her tone was that of a practiced diplomat, formal and regal.

"H-hello," Donnie gave half a wave, awkward and unknowing of how to proceed with this....odd circumstances.

" certain that you have questions," she merely added. Donnie had this feeling that beneath the veil, she was attractive. But the way she looked at him, her eyes seen through the veil, Donnie only felt a critical coldness akin to a calculating mind.

"Y-yes.... are all of this--" he gestured a wave around the pillars and unto the alien cosmos that stared from the sky, "—real?"

"Yes," the tall one simply said with a nod.

Donnie scratched his head, "Where....Am I?"

He still couldn't come to grip with reality.

He was on a different world. Other life aside from humanity. It was the most monumental discovery of human history!

And he was severely underqualified to be the emissary or any to make first contact with another intelligent species.

Grand historical events such as this should be handled by trained and the most qualified personnel. He'd rather read of this than spearhead such a forging of first contact with an alien civilization. Donnie wanted to go back home. Back to the lab, he was just a research assistant for Chrissakes!

"P-please..." Donnie started, wanted to look them in the eye, pleading.

"Let me return home, that I may - -" he only took a step forward and was confused as to why he was suddenly falling towards the floor. His knees buckled and gave way, but he managed to catch himself, wobbling and kneeling, untrusting his own strength to stand. His eyes grew heavy but he shook that away. Or tried to anyway.

"You were Grasped in between worlds, the transition greatly accosted your mind and body," the tall one was suddenly beside him, holding him upright with her hands. She was so close, he was intoxicated with her scent, like the sharp fruity tang of exotic flowers.

"Rest..." her voice drawled, "For now."

"...o-okay," was all Donnie could mutter. He saw from the corner of his vision as the other two women hoisted him up, he could feel their soft flesh through their dainty clothing, rubbing against his person.

It felt...nice.

His vision swam. Switching from blurring out to blacking out, until he found himself in a dark room.

Eventually, his mind drifted and whatever happened to him, it seems it crept back, as shadows not soon afterwards crept from the side of his vision.

The lullaby of his weary bones spurn him towards slumber.


Van'Yhava watched as her fellow cloth-sisters eased their other-worldly visitor into one of the temple cells.

They had done it. By the Eld, they had fucking done it!

"Rejoice! Rejoice!" erupted in jubilation by cloth-sister Van'Thana, painfully young and earnest in her service. Fortunately, (or unfortunately) it was her voice that formed the Shadowplea.

"The Codex spoke true! Though, it also said it was supposed to be a youngling. Not a grown man. I-I don't understand how this was so...."

"Hush you fucking fool! You will wake him!" came the rebuke from Van'Lheda, her harsh tone in complete contradiction with her soft, comely features.

"I doubt it. Can you not smell it? Feel it?" Van'Yhava gazed down and asked the both of them, her own ears ecstatically upraised.

The Visitor has passed through the Shadows-In-Between; he had the lingering scent of it in his person. Hence the resulting toll in his body.

"What are you talking about? Of course we can! If I wasn't so dumbstrucked that Razrath's Gate had worked, I would have knocked the poor creature and had him sent to the Conclave!" Van'Lheda elaborated with a flourish of her hand, her ears mirrored the wild ramblings with snappy motions.

Van'Thana took a deep breath of air, her ears fluttered in repressed ecstasy despite them cast down as was her gaze when addressing Van'Yhava. "His scent...tempts me to go astray from the teachings of the Codex."

Forever an adherent to decorum, thought Van'Yhava of the young priestess.

"Should we inform the others? The Drak?" Van'Lheda asked, hand in her hip. Tone impertinent sounding to those not acquainted with her, but Van'Yhava knows it was just her ordinary tone.

Van'Lheda being Van'Lheda.

"No, as Van'Thana said, it was supposed to be a youngling. We are unsure if the Umbran had properly taken hold within him and would the veil settle properly, unless...."

"Unless it kills him."

Silence settled between them.

All eyes on the sleeping creature at their feet.

Van'Lheda simply shrugged, "Eh, we'll try again then."


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