Smoke and Drums: The Hermit, Part One

Nicky Noxville

All my stories take place in a parallel world, very similar to our own, where STI’s do not exist, so my stories are filled with practices that are highly unsafe in this world. I’m not going to say don’t try this at home, but take care of yourself.

All my characters are of legal age, and you should be, too—do not read my stories if you are under the legal age in your country/area. Any resemblance to real persons, locations, or events is entirely coincidental.

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And now, our feature presentation…

Chapter One

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The distant sound of drums pushed their way into my meditation, and I opened my eyes to stare down the winding mountain path toward the small village of Aerendyl. I had been seeking enlightenment on this mountain top since I was a child, when the previous Sage had fallen in the last war with the Orc Nations, and I knew better than to try and cling to the stillness.

I smiled, absently, reaching down in a familiar motion to rub at a section of the stone I was sitting on, just as I had done thousands of times before. The surface beneath my fingers was smooth, like glass, from the more than twelve centuries of use I’d given it as my preferred meditation spot. The motion was habit now, memory within my muscles. I had long since shed the fears and anxieties that I had come here burdened with. I had started rubbing the stone to distract myself from them, but like the rough surface, they had been smoothed away.

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The rhythm continued, picking up pace, unrelenting, and I frowned, staring down at the tall trees that sheltered the village. I could see lazy clouds of smoke starting to slowly rise from the trees, and it wasn’t long before the wind carried a faint, perfumed scent up the mountain to where I sat.

Incense, but not one I was familiar with. I wasn’t familiar with this drumming either. These drums sounded much heavier than the drums usually played by my kin… Almost like… Almost like orc drums.

But that wasn’t possible.

The last war with the Orc Nations ended when I was a child, before Aerendyl had been built, when the towering trees below were mere saplings. I also knew all the war beats of the Orc Nations, and this was significantly different than any of them. I sighed, relieved, listening to the drumming as it picked up pace.

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I smiled again, thinking about that village. I’d never even been there. I committed myself to a lifetime of solitude and meditation after the village I was born in, Haladavar, had been wiped out by the retreating orcs, and the previous Sage had been killed.

My family was gone.

The Sage was gone.

I had nowhere else to go, so I took his place.

In a way, Aerendyl had been settled for the purpose of supporting me, just as Haladavar had once been founded to support the first Great Sage. Aerendyl had started with one family, eleven hundred years before, and I had grown accustomed to measuring the passing of the years by its growth and celebrations.

Century after century, the same rituals, the same feasts, the same celebrations. Always distant, always removed, but comforting, nonetheless. I had wished that I could join them, long ago, but I hadn’t entertained any such fantasies in years. Such things weren’t for me, and I had walked too far down the path toward enlightenment to turn back now.

More smoke drifted up, and I carefully inhaled to try and determine the composition of this new incense, but I still couldn’t place it. I rose to my feet, giving the stone one last familiar caress on my way up. I turned to walk back into my cave, and paused, looking down the front of my simple robe as I felt it tug.

The cloth was pushed outward, and had twisted around my erection, a sight that had become unfamiliar to me in the centuries since I had overcome the demands of my flesh. Elves were long-lived, and the path to enlightenment had slowed my aging even further. I was now among the oldest of my race, though my body retained the youth and vigor of elves just entering their triple digits.

The sudden return of such earthly urges, when I had grown so close to the stars, was even more overwhelming after such a long absence. I shook my head to clear my thoughts, and tugged at my robe, gasping at the sensation of the rough fabric pulling free of my erection. My rediscovered cock, liberated, slapped loudly against my body beneath my robe. I let the fabric fall into place, my erection still tenting it outward, and walked back into my cave. I tossed a final handful of incense onto the burning coals in the brazier beside the alcove that contained my bed. Smoke rose to swirl through the cave, trailing behind me as I moved about.

I deliberately ignored the demands of my flesh. Whatever had awakened those desires didn’t matter.

What was lust next to a thousand years of conscious, deliberate growth.

What was flesh when enlightenment was so close?

I lay back and closed my eyes, listening to the drums echo in through the mouth of the cave.

I made it a meditation, breathing with the deep, rumbling beat, even the throbbing in my penis falling into the pattern.

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Chapter Two

“Cenduil! Son, wake up!” Strong hands, shaking me. My bed so big, so soft. “Cenduil, you must wake!” Father’s voice.

Father?

I opened my eyes, staring up at him—his eyes dark, starlight dancing in their depths. His hair was so black that the ball of light floating over his palm made it shine blue. His expression was grave, just like it had been…

Had been?

“Father?” My voice, so small, so soft.

“Get to the shelter, Cenduil, in the woods, like we practiced,” he ordered, pulling me from the soft and the warmth.

I could hear drums in the distance, angry drums.

“I don’t want to leave you father!” Not again.

“Cenduil, you must! They are here! Run! Run!”

Large figures, towering in the darkness.

Deep voices yelling in a foreign tongue.

The smell of blood, and sweat, and… something else, underneath it all.

“Cenduil! Run!”

“Father!” I cried out, sitting up on my bed, my voice echoing through the depths of my cave only to be swallowed by the echoing drums. I raised trembling fingers to my brow and pressed them to my heated skin, feeling the slick sheen of sweat that covered my flesh. I hadn’t dreamed of the attack like that in years. It must be the drums. I realized that they were still going, the beat primal and primitive. I could almost feel something stirring inside of me in response.

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Whatever this new celebration was for, it must be something important. I swung my legs over the side of the alcove and gasped, the coarse fabric of my robe rubbing across my erection again.

I’d forgotten about that problem.

I reached down and tugged the cloth away, my fingers slowing down as they brushed the length of my erection in the process. I squeezed my eyes shut.

I could just… Just let myself, just this once… My fingers moved slowly back toward the demanding mound of flesh that was pressing against my robe.

No! I’m too close to my goal!

Why was my flesh suddenly so inflamed? I got to my feet and crossed the stone chamber, stopping at the ledge where I kept my bucket of drinking water. I splashed my face, struggling to clear my thoughts of earthly matters so that I could return to joining the stars.

I tended the brazier next, the motions familiar. I struggled to keep my mind clear as I worked, clearing the ash, blowing the embers back to life, and feeding new charcoals to the growing heat. I left the coals to heat on their own and walked out of the cave to retrieve the supplies that I knew would be waiting.

As expected, two large baskets sat upon my stone—one full of food, the other full of supplies. I carried them inside and put everything away. I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary until I went to unwrap the bundle of incense.

It was different, bundles of an herb I’d never seen before. Ready to confirm my suspicions, I raised the dried herbs under my nose and closed my eyes, breathing in.

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This was it, whatever they were burning below. I tossed the herbs onto the brazier, and smoke started to curl and snake through the still air inside my cave. As smoke wafted lazily below my nose, I breathed it in directly for the first time. Half way through the breath, I gasped, my lungs pulling in even more of the strange, new incense.

“Haah!” I gasped, my erection throbbing. I felt something squirt out of it and looked down to see a wet spot spreading around where the head of my engorged penis pressed out my robe. I took in another breath, even though I knew this must be the first time I’ve ever encountered it.

What is this?

I snatched up another bundle of the herb and walked to the back of the cave, smoke following me down a narrow passage until I reached the Sages’ Library. Nobody knew that it existed, but every sage for thousands of years had added their wisdom to the collection until the room was a narrow warren of one of a kind tomes.

Every new Sage discovered the Library.

Every new Sage added to it, as I knew I would one day, when I finish learning from what was there, before I became one with the stars and a new Sage was called to take my place.

Out of the cloud of incense, my head cleared a little, though my penis remained stubbornly erect, bouncing to the echoing drum beats.

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I wiggled through the stacks of books that I had spent near two centuries arranging. There had been a Sage three thousand years ago who compiled a master tome of herbs—if this wasn’t in there, then I was unlikely to find it anywhere.

I hauled the book over to a small table and sat on the ancient, three-legged stool that was the only seating in the chamber. A crystal hanging over the table glowed brightly, perfect for reading. I flipped open the tome and started searching, bringing the bundled herbs up under my nose again to smell their delicate perfume as I researched.

It went slower than it should have.

My erection proved to be a constant distraction, drawing my attention away from the pages every few minutes, forcing me to willfully ignore my flesh, and go back to reading. I put up with it as long as I could, and then gave up and tore the robe off over my head, tossing it over onto a stack of books about astronomy that I’d long since read.

My right hand flipped the pages.

My left hand kept raising and lowering the bundle of herbs.

My penis bobbed, liberated, between my legs.

It had to be here somewhere.

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“Ah!” I cried out, excited that I’d finally found… My heart sank. The herb drawn on the page looked very close to what was in my hand, but there were differences.

My eyes darted back and forth, noting the deviations. Finally, I sighed, dropping the herbs onto the pages as I started to skim the text. Qualities, properties, uses, formulas, antidotes… I scoffed in disgust.

It couldn’t be this plant. This plant had been deliberately eradicated in the Seventh Age.

I rose from the table and wiggled my way back out of the library, trying to ignore the pleasure I felt each time I manipulated my bobbing erection out of the way. The coals were still glowing in the brazier, but all the smoke had cleared out. I tossed another bundle onto the coals on my way out of the cave.

It was evening, the sun low in the sky, near setting.

I’d spent the day indulging a curiosity instead of meditating.

I shivered as the cool, evening breeze played across my exposed skin. I felt a distant echo of shame—remnants of an emotion—and dismissed them as foolish. I was the only one here, so I didn’t need modesty. Clothes didn’t really matter.

I turned and walked back into the cave, into the cloud of perfumed smoke that was swirling up from the brazier.

It was like drifting through a dream.

I flowed, slowly, like syrup, through the chamber, passing through clouds of perfumed smoke, my chest rising and falling in deep, rhythmic breaths, my erection throbbing in time with the beating of the drums.

I tossed another bundle of herbs onto the brazier as I drifted to my bed, thickening the smoke even more.

Moving so slowly.

My back settled against the pile of furs that were my mattress, their musk mixing with the smoke. My head lolled from side to side.

My erection burned where it rested, heavy across my abdomen. I lifted my head and looked down at it—swollen, purple, demanding.

I hadn’t touched myself for pleasure in a thousand years.

A bead of precum leaked from the tip, glistening, and then dripped slowly down to my belly.

I remembered what it was like.

My fingers clenched, gripping the furs as I remembered those early days—hours of wringing every drop of pleasure from my…

“Noo!” I snapped myself out of those thoughts, letting my head fall back. This was all in my past! I’d overcome my flesh, so why did I so suddenly, and desperately, need to indulge it?

The stars had been within my grasp, and now they were slipping away.

Maybe it’s like meditation—because I’m trying to force these urges away, they grow stronger. I need to accept them. My fingers trembled, hovering over my erection, so close to my inflamed flesh that I could feel the heat of it.

If I don’t touch it, I’ll never stop wanting to.

If I touch it, just a little, maybe the urges will fade away again.

Maybe if I touch it, I can go back to normal.

My eyes snapped open, and my mouth stretched into an O of ecstatic surprise, as my fingers wrapped around my erect penis for the first time in a millennium. It would be okay, so long as I didn’t cum.

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I gave my penis a firm squeeze with each drum beat, staring upward, unseeing, as I reunited with long forgotten pleasures.

My mind was empty.

It was like being deep in meditation.

It was like being on the verge of enlightenment, only instead of enlightenment of the soul, this felt like enlightenment of the flesh. I gave myself over to it, my delirious moans echoing loudly, combining with the drums, as I writhed and squeezed myself into oblivion.

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