The sun falls behind the mountains, causing the sky to melt into pastels with speckles of gray clouds hanging. Inside, the gentle light of a candle dances along the stone walls of their humble home. The two men’s shadows are tall and furious with angered fists rising towards the heavens. Confusion and resistance present themselves in each of their minds, but one must persist. 

“I do not understand you, my son,” the older man says, his heavy eyes lingering on his son's figure. “I do not understand.”

With eyes weighed with tears, the son breaks the constraints of the walls, rushing out the door and to the wooded terrain that sits behind the village. His careless feet hug the earth beneath him, carrying him deep into the thick brush of the Foloi Oak Forest.

Soon, the sun escapes the sky and stars twinkle in its place. Panic taints his already uneasy temperament as he finds himself to have gone too far into the timber. He comes to a halt, thinking that it may be best to wait till morning to find a way back home. He begins pushing back down vines to clear a space for him to rest his strong stature. 

After clearing out some of the vegetation, a radiant glow of light catches his wandering eyes. Inching closer, the thick brush thins out into a path that is tame on his olive-skinned feet. 

As he closes in on the soft hue, he looks on behind the safety of a slumped mossy log. He is met with a small clearwater pond that is illuminated with a beam of the neon moon. An alluring energy enchants his vessel, pulling him into the area. He soon stops himself as he sees what appears to be the top of a head appear in the refreshing waters. 

“Who… Who goes there?” His voice breaks, but he regains his composure. 

A peaceful hum rings across his ears as the head that bobbed in the water reveals its eyes to him. “Who am I?” A cooing voice spoke. “Well, you are in my home. Who are you?” 

“I’m Milos!” he responds, coming closer to the body of water. “Is that you speaking to me?” 

“Come closer,” it says, the head disappearing under the water. 

“Why should I?” Milos hesitates, but the spell is cast over his body once more, pulling him closer. 

He finds himself looking into the depths of the pond, the strange green eyes looking through him. “What are you?” he whispers, watching the creature glide under the docile waters.

The head soon reappears, lifting from the waters and revealing itself as a woman. She stands over the cool pool, levitating toward the heavens like a holy white dove. 

Milos, stunned, looks up in awe at the beauty of what is before him. 

“Why are you here, Milos?” she says, drifting down to him, and landing on her feet. “Why are you in the forest at this hour?”  

“Nothing more than emotions," Milos responds quickly. “What’s the importance of my presence?” He backs away, his eyes taking in the spirit that manifested in front of him. Her waist-length soft blonde curls and pale skin glimmers in the meek summer moon.  She dresses in silky blue fabric, dripping with glacial droplets that trail down her slender body. 

“What should I call you?” 

“Lyra,” she says, stepping closer to Milos. “I know why you’re here," she states, grabbing his hands. He tries to pull away but sinks into her embrace. 

“What do you know?” 

“Your father is trying to marry you off.” She pulls him down to the grassy earth beneath them. “But you want to feel free a little longer. I don’t understand his hurry.” Her fingers wrap around a lock of his thick dark hair. “You’re such a young thing, barely nineteen summers, and so handsome. A boy like you must want to have fun.” Lyra leans in, kissing along his neck but Milos pulls away, his face caked with blush. 

“I’m not very good at this,” Milos says, “I’ve never done this sort of thing.” 

Lyra smiles. “You’ve never done this sort of thing? I’m quite shocked.” She scoots back to him, untying the front of his white toga. 

“Well, I’ve never focused on these types of things. I’ve always dedicated myself to athletics,” he blurts out as Lyras cool fingertips trace the outline of his tanned muscular torso. 

“I see that.” Her hands trail to his sides as she watches his belly rise with his nervous breaths. “Your attachments to it hold you back from marrying, I know.” She holds her face close to his, looking through him once again with glossy emerald eyes. 

Milos grows weak and leans against the rock behind him. His toga falls open, exposing himself to Lyra and her lustful gaze. He tries to reach for the fabric to cover himself but she stops his attempts. 

“You’re so shy. So sweet.” She giggles. Milos' muscles stiffen. “Let me taste you.” 

He nods his head, watching as she lowers her lips down to the tip of his erect cock. She slowly takes him into her warm mouth, pushing him further down her throat. A deep moan erupts from Milos as he grabs the back of her head. She bobs her head on his cock, each movement making him squirm in pleasure. 

Milos bucks into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat with his thick cock. He whimpers under her twisting tongue and gasps for relief. Denying his request, she takes him out of her mouth and kisses up to his chest. His heavy breaths fill the space between them. 

“Lyra, please,” he begs, “Let me finish.” 

“Oh, you silly boy,” she purrs, straddling him. She tugs at the straps of her dress to show her plush breasts. “You will finish soon, don’t worry.” 

Milos grabs her hips and grinds his cock against her bare pussy, aching to be inside her. She laughs at his eagerness, and kisses his forehead before placing her fleshy nipple in his mouth. He begins to suck, causing his mouth to fill with warm milk. He groans as the milk hits his tongue, swallowing with greed. 

As he sucks, she slides her wet pussy onto his waiting cock, grinding into him slowly as he drinks from her. He grabs her backside, squeezing onto her as her pussy milks him.  He pulls away from her breast, grabbing her close to his body as he thrusts sloppily into her. 

With one last thrust, he fills her insides, and falls to his side in exhaustion. Lyra stands, walking toward the pool of water. 

“Where are you going?” He sits up, watching her dip back in. 

She dissolves into the depths, her eyes shining through the waters. He gets on his hands and knees, crawling towards her. He gets to the waters that have now turned murky, his zealous hands splashing as he tries to search for her. 

She holds her hand out to him, causing him to stop his search.

“Come back out!” Milos cries.

Lyra’s hand lunges for his throat.

His face twists in fear as she squeezes the air out from his windpipe. He grabs her wrist, trying to pry her strong fingers from him.

He fails, and she pulls him into the poisoned waters of the Foloi Oak Forest.