An Ode to Uncertainty – Chapter 3 [MF][Fantasy][Magic]

Please read chapters 1 & 2 first if you have not done so. Link to previous chapters in comments. This is not a stand-alone story.

Enjoy!

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The next bell and a half were a series of excruciating revelations. At the end of it, Jarl sat stunned in his seat. Mirja brought him back to the living.

“What?”

“I think Mistress Varja wants you to come forward,” she said nodding down at the podium.

Jarl nodded. He closed his eyes and tried to get rid of the pictures of insides of people’s bodies. To no avail. There were just some things that could not be unseen. He rose on stiff legs and wandered down the stairs to the podium. It seemed like the rest of the class had left long ago. As he approached the podium Mistress Varja looked up. Jarl was too exhausted to flinch and just looked back at her.

“So, what should I call you? Prince Jarl?”

“Just Jarl is fine,” Jarl let out in a whisper.

Mistress Varja nodded. Then she smiled a little smile that Jarl did not know what to make of.

“I hope that the first class was as you had expected.”

Without thinking about it, Jarl nodded.

“Good, good,” Varja said and then looked at him intently for a while.

Jarl blinked. Her eyes shifted color for just a second. Then again. And again. Blue. White. Yellow.

“As I thought,” Mistress Varja sighed. “This will require some work. Report to my office at five bells. How old are you by the way?”

“Twenty-one,” Jarl said.

“So, not a boy then,” Mistress Varja said smiling. “Dismissed,” she said turning around.

Jarl stood there for almost a drop until he realized that she was done with him. He turned around and walked off. Mirja was standing close to the first row of benches and grabbed his arm as he passed by.

“Did you see that?” he asked.

“What?”

“Her eyes. The way they shifted color.”

Mirja looked up at him with a concerned expression on her narrow face. Then she shook her head.

“I think I need some sleep.”

Mirja nodded.

She brought him back to his room and stayed while he lay down for a little while. When he woke up the room smelled of grilled chicken. He sat up yawning and a plate was pressed to his stomach. He looked up at Sigrid.

“Eat,” the Sister said. “You will meet Mirja at fifteen drops before second bell.”

“What? Why?” Jarl said groggily.

He had just had an awful dream that included a dismembered woman. Then he blinked and realized that it was not a dream. It was that seventh damned Matrimancy class.

“Your Introduction to Elemancy class starts at second bell. You will not be late.”

Jarl raised an eyebrow.

“What, are you my mother now?”

He later realized that he did not actually see Sigrid close the distance between them. All he knew was that suddenly he had two finger-long daggers scraping against his neck.

“You. Will. Not. Be. Late.”

Each word came with a trickle of blood. He almost nodded but stopped himself just in time.

***

The sun shone through the red domes as if they were not there. Jarl looked up at them once more and then shook his head. They must be visible to someone else. He touched his neck. He could almost feel the cold steel of Sigrid’s blades still against his skin and shivered. If only his father had let him bring Tilda instead. By the ravenfolk, he missed that girl.

“Sleep well?” Mirja said as she sidled up to him as they entered the Elemancy building.

“Not really,” Jarl said just as he walked straight into the person in front of him.

Jarl was a well-built young northerner which led to the noisy trip and fall of the man in front of him. The man on the floor turned over and just as Jarl was about to apologize and help him up, he saw the face of the Idiot. Jarl couldn’t help but laugh. The man on the floor turned beet red and scrambled to his feet putting his face two inches from Jarl’s. The Idiot was a head shorter but made up for it in fury.

“I don’t know who in the seventh you are but if you do not get out of my way right now I will make you regret it,” Jarl said with a growl that made the other man step back.

The Idiot brushed himself off and raised his finger to Jarl, saying something, probably profane, in Imperial.

“Whatever,” Jarl said pushing him to one side.

These southerners were scrawny. No wonder they had never been able to invade the north despite numerous attempts. Jarl and Mirja left the cursing man behind.

“Did he say anything interesting?” Jarl asked as they entered the amphitheater.

“Something about using your guts to tie you to a tree.”

“Figured it was something along those lines,” Jarl said smiling as he sat down.

A surprisingly muscular man entered the stage and began lecturing in Imperial without taking attendance. Jarl sighed. He looked up towards the door where Sigrid was standing. She pointed one small dagger towards him, and he looked at the teacher again. Mirja was furiously taking notes next to him. Jarl looked around the room and located the Idiot. He was sitting with some people that Jarl vaguely recognized from before. They had the same stupid haircuts as the Idiot and once in a while one of them threw a glare his way. Jarl did his best to ignore them. At least the theatre was large enough so it would be easy not to have to sit next to them. Mirja poked him. He looked at her and then down at the teacher who was looking at him.

“Master Cerdic addressed you,” she said in a whisper.

The broad-shouldered Master said something and Mirja replied. Then he made the same kind of gesture as Mistress Varja had done the day before. This time Jarl was certain he could see faint traces of light making a roughly octagonal shape then the dim light appeared around the professor’s mouth.

“So, we have another of Tordgrim’s line among us. Would you please stand up?”

Jarl hesitated for a blink before he stood up.

“You have inherited your ancestors build I can see. As I said before. The power of a Geomancer is always proportional to his or her physical strength, therefore, no misogyny intended, men are almost always superior Geomancers. However, for the finer manipulations agility and dexterity is of utmost importance and the greatest artificers in history have all been women.”

Master Cerdic paused and looked at Jarl. Then he waved him down.

“I’m intrigued,” the Master said as Jarl made his way down the aisle. “I never met your ancestor; he died a century before I joined. But I have heard things. Stand here.”

The Master indicated a spot at the center of the podium and Jarl made his way there. He looked up at the assembled students. They were all looking at him. He was used to being looked at from all the formal settings back in Nordheim, but it still felt slightly weird. The Master picked up a fist sized rock from a table and held it out towards Jarl.

“Put your hand against the rock.”

Jarl did as he was told, and the Master released is grip slightly and the rock was held between their two open hands.

“Feel it.”

Jarl blinked. He did feel the rock against his palm.

“*Feel* it,” the Master repeated.

Jarl was about to open his mouth when he felt it. He *felt* it. The rock was pushing against him. But not his palm. Against *him*.

“Good. Now push. Not with your hand. With your spirit,” Master Cerdic said nodding.

Jarl drew a breath. The audience was gone. All he could see, or feel, was the rock. It was hanging in front of him. He pushed. There was a sharp crack and the rock burst into a thousand tiny fragments that fell onto the podium in a clatter. The Master nodded approvingly.

“Definitely better than your uncle. Horrible, horrible man that,” the Master said shaking his head. “Now, back to your seat.”

Master Cerdic turned to the assembly.

“Can anyone tell me what just happened?”

Jarl made his way back to his seat. On the way there he got a few nods from the other students.

“That was awesome,” Mirja whispered as he sat down next to her.

Jarl just sat still. He could still feel the rock in its thousand pieces. Shattered.

***

In the hour before he was supposed to report to Mistress Varja he and Mirja grabbed a quick meal down at one of the inns closest to the College. It was only the second time they visited but it already started to feel like home. The heavy wooden interior was decorated with hunting trophies and the burly man behind the bar knew enough Nordheimr for Jarl to make himself understood.

“Natural born Geomancer,” Mirja said raising her cup to him.

To his surprise Sigrid also raised her cup to him. He nodded to the both of them and drew a big sip from the amber liquid. It was a decent brew, not like anything from home, but passable. Mirja put her cup down on the table and pointed at him.

“Now remember. I want you to tell me every detail that happens at Mistress Varja. You owe me that much.”

Jarl nodded. He looked over at Sigrid who was studying him intently. He hated when she did that. Not a word. Just looking like he was some bug she had caught and was thinking about how to stick a needle through. They finished their drinks and he and Sigrid headed up to the Matrimancy building. He had asked Mirja how to say Mistress Varja in Imperial and with those two words he was pointed in the right direction and ended up in front of a large brass door. He looked at Sigrid. She shrugged. A voice said a single sharp word from inside just as Jarl had raised his hand to knock at the door.

Jarl hesitated a blink before pulling on the large handle. The door slid open without a sound. They stepped into a large room of which half was filled with bookshelves and the other half with large oak worktables filled with papers and hundreds of differently colored vials and beakers. Along shelves above the tables stood even more vials. Mistress Varja was seated at a table in front of the room’s only window with her back to them. Next to the writing table was a large bed with disheveled bedclothes. She scribbled something on a paper and then stood up and turned to him. She said something that he did not understand. He shrugged. She sighed and made the same gesture he had seen before. He was starting to recognize it now. It wasn’t an octagon; it was three slightly jagged lines in a rough circle.

“Who is this,” Mistress Varja said nodding at Sigrid.

“My attendant.”

“She can wait outside. And this will take a while.”

Sigrid looked at him. Then she shrugged and went outside and closed the door. Mistress Varja stepped up to him. Even though she did not even come up to his chin she somehow felt taller than he was. She looked at him for what felt like an excruciatingly long time. Then she sighed and went over to one of the tables and picked up a vial. She unstoppered it and handed it to him.

“Drink this. It should get you cleaned out and inoculate you for the next couple of years. There may be side effects however.”

He took the vial tentatively. A pungent odor came from the opening.

“No, it will not kill you. Yes, it does taste like pig bile. Yes, you must drink it,” she said crossing her arms.

The gesture pushed her bosom up. He had not noticed her ample chest before but now he could not take his eyes off it.

“Drink,” she ordered.

He did so. And instantly gagged. Pig bile would have been an improvement over whatever this was.

“All of it.”

Jarl did his best to shut his nose as he downed the contents of the vial. Mistress Varja nodded with satisfaction.

“Good. Now lie down. And try not to throw up,” she said pointing at the bed.

Jarl made his way over to the bed and just managed not to empty the contents of his stomach on the way there. He lay down and started to shiver uncontrollably.

“It will pass in a bell or two,” Mistress Varja said from far away.

Luckily Jarl did not stay conscious that long.

“Look who is awake,” Mistress Varja said smiling down at him. “Well. At least you’re clean now.”

Jarl looked groggily up at the two Mistresses. He closed his eyes and opened them again. There were still two of her. He closed his eyes again.

“Clean?” he managed to say with some effort.

“From no less than twelve different venereal diseases. That must be some kind of record, even for a nobleman. And sired five children already, quite the achievement.”

Jarl opened his eyes wide and looked up at her again.

“Five what?”

“Children.”

“What children?”

Mistress Varja sighed.

“I truly hope that you are not always this dense. You have fathered five children. I cannot tell their genders; they are too far away. In your native country I assume.”

Jarl tried to make sense of what the woman was saying.

“How?”

Mistress Varja glared at him. Her face was becoming clearer by the blink and he could see the frown deepen.

“If you really are this stupid, I have no use of you. Please tell me that you know how children are conceived. I spent at least five drops explaining it in detail this morning.”

Jarl cleared his throat.

“Well of course I do. I just didn’t think that I had been part of it.”

“Given the amount of diseases you were carrying around I most certainly assume that you have been part of it.”

Jarl opened his mouth to respond but he had nothing to say so he closed it again before he looked too stupid. He nodded. That seemed to work.

“Good,” Mistress Varja continued. “Go wash up in the next room and come back when you are done. Put on one of the robes,” she said indicating a door by one wall.

Jarl got up on unsteady legs and headed over to the door. It felt like his insides had been reorganized with a sledgehammer. In the next room he found a large bath already poured and he climbed in. He cleaned himself thoroughly and was feeling better by the drop. He got out of the bath and located a robe and pulled it on. He took a deep breath and opened the door to Mistress Varja’s study.

“Feeling better?” came the Mistress’s voice.

She was sitting by the writing table again and stood up as he entered. He nodded.

“Good. You look better. You have an impressive physique. I want to do some tests on you. But first some questions. How many times have you had relations with your fellow student, Mirja I believe her name is?”

Jarl froze where he stood. Mistress Varja raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t go daft on me again.”

He tried to think.

“About ten times. Maybe a dozen.”

Mistress Varja nodded.

“She has created quite the bond with you. And she is draining you even now, at this distance. Impressive. Both her and you. Are you feeling tired?”

Jarl thought for a blink. Now that the nausea had passed, he felt quite normal. He shook his head.

“Interesting,” she said making a note, then she stood up. “I have several tests I want to run. But we have to start by creating a bond.”

She walked towards him and without asking she untied his robe and let it fall to the floor. Mistress Varja smiled up at him. Then her hand grabbed his growing flesh and started stroking it up to full size. She was still wearing her long green robe, but he had a good view down her cleavage. He made a move towards her, but she held up her free hand.

“Stay as still as you can. This is reference position one.”

Slowly she sank to her knees in front of him and took him into her mouth. He gasped. Her right hand cupped his balls as she moved her head back and forth. With her free hand she made a quick gesture and Jarl could see tiny specks of light at her fingertips. He gasped again as he grew even harder in her mouth. It felt like he was about to burst. Mistress Varja worked his flesh for what felt like an eternity until her free hand moved again in another gesture and instantly Jarl could feel his climax rushing towards him. With a huge roar he filled Mistress Varja’s mouth with his seed. Burst after burst of it flowed into her and she audibly swallowed. Once he had spent himself completely, she sucked the last of his seed from him and then stood up quickly gesturing with both hands. A complicated pattern formed between them and sank into both their chests. It felt like someone poured hot water over him and he gasped once more. He saw how Mistress Varja’s mouth fell open and her eyes went wide. Her hands dropped to her sides and a wide smile formed on her lips.

“By the Four Winds!” she exclaimed at the ceiling and then her broad smile was directed at Jarl.

She let one hand settle on his shoulder and then wander down his chest and stomach, lingering just above his shrinking flesh. She whispered a few quick words and as her hand touched his flesh, he could feel himself stirring again. He let out a deep sigh as she grabbed his hardening member and pushed him backwards. She kept pushing him back until he fell backwards onto the bed. He was stiffer than he had ever experienced as she, still fully clothed climbed on top of him. He was surprised when he could feel her warmth envelop him as she sat down. She let out a little whimper as his full length came into her. Her green robe covered him almost completely as she started moving up and down on top of him. He had never felt anything like it. It was like her sex was caressing him from all sides and bringing him deeper into her than was physically possible. He did not last long and soon gave Mistress Varja another gift of his seed.

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This was the third chapter of our book An Ode to Uncertainty. A new chapter will be available every Friday here on Reddit.

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