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The Love Spell
Author:
SirScott PM
Can Peter Race cure Dash's asexuality?
Rated: Fiction M - English - Chapters: 4 - Words: 3,704 - Published: 04-28-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3017742
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Chapter 1

A red glow emitted from Shyla Teagan as she held Dashiell Andrews's hand. Her healing magic was keeping him alive. His head had been bashed in by a troll's club. It had healed, but still he slept. Shyla had fallen in love with her patient. Everyday she looked forward to holding Dash's hand and talking to him. She had read Dash's profile on the giant computer and was impressed by his work ethic. He had lived only to study and to serve The Society. Shyla, also, had dedicated her life to studying magic and practicing her arts. She lived in the wizard's dimension on a permanent basis. Only a chosen three thousand was hand picked by the Grand Master to receive this honor – all other wizards lived in the other countless dimensions. The wizards and sorceresses that had stayed in the Wizard's Realm worked either at the school, the hospital, or helped the Master to monitor the countless realms.

The wizards' main concern was the return of the Grand Master's main adversary. He had been the inspiration for Loki, Mordred, and countless other villains in myth and lore. The latest intelligence showed that he had made contact with a priestess on Earth, who had an occult dedicated to the restoration of Atlantis.

Shyla wasn't concerned with the Adversary; she was only worried about Dash.

"My darling, it is the highlight of my day to see you. To hold you and keep you alive with my touch. What I would not give to have you awaken. I know we would be soul mates, you and I. It seems silly, I know, to tell you of my hopes, fears, and desires…"

"You're damn right it's silly," spoke a voice.

Shyla turned and saw Ethan Beamer's smirking face.

"You have no right to spy on me when I am with a patient."

"It's my job, Shyla. Why do you spill your guts to a dope who can't even hear you? You were always weird…now you're just pathetic."

Ethan Beamer took a certain delight in hurting Shyla. He hated her. She always won the favor of the Master. She studied harder than him. She had been his rival since their school days. He would have been at the top of the class had Shyla not been there. Her healing magic was more powerful than his. For years, Ethan had searched for a way to get back at her. He had always assumed that she was a lesbian, but now he knew that she was just searching for the perfect companion.

"You are wasting your time with that one. I asked Peter Race about Dashiell Andrews and he told that the dude is asexual and that he hates to be touched by either women or men."

Shyla looked up at Ethan and said: "I think Peter Race is lying. Everyone knows what a jerk he is. Dash is probably just waiting for the right person to come into his life. He doesn't think with his sex organs, he thinks of his craft and enjoys the finer things in life."

Ethan started laughing loudly and obnoxiously: "Oh, that's rich. The finer things…that's a load of horseshit. Only an ugly bitch like you would think that way."

Ethan stopped laughing as soon as he said ugly bitch. It was a slip of the tongue. He hated her, but he didn't want to hurt her that bad. Tears rolled off Shyla's cheeks. She still had Dashiell's hand in hers. She gripped it tight and the red glow that emitted from her grew brighter. Her green eyes turned red and before any more words could be said, Dashiell let out a cry.

"Shyla, Dashiell Andrews is awake." Ethan spoke.

The young sorceress turned and looked at Dashiell Andrews. He was lying on the bed, talking.

"Pete, look out the troll has a club. Pete! Pete, do you hear me…"

Dashiell closed his mouth and refocused his eyes. He wasn't in the troll's dimension, he was somewhere else. He looked up and saw a young woman. She had to be in her twenties with long stringy hair, tied in a ponytail. Her eyes were a mix of green and red. Things made sense now. Dashiell knew where he was. The troll must have dealt him a terrible blow and Peter must have taken him to the Wizard's Realm.

"I gather that Peter got Lewis Wetzel's weapons and I got nothing. On top of that I lost the Crystal of Liberty."

Ethan grinned: "Mr. Andrews, it is so wonderful that you are awake. I'll be going now; Ms. Teagan will take care of you."

Ethan walked out of the room, laughing under his breath. Shyla smiled and placed her hand in Dashiell's.

"I'm glad he's gone, my darling. And it is Miss Shyla Teagan, I'm not a dyke."

A feeling of nausea washed over Dashiell. The woman was touching him. He could sense that she was infatuated by him. He wanted to scream out and make her turn loose of his hand, but he knew she had saved his life and he couldn't be mean to her. Sweat poured from his brow and his face took on a greenish hue. Shyla's eyes grew wide; she patted his hand, and said: "Are you ok, my…I mean Mr. Andrews. May I get you something?"

Dashiell smiled with relief: "Yes. If it's not too much trouble…a glass of water."

Shyla grinned and walked out of the room.

Dashiell had to think. He didn't want to hurt this young woman, but he couldn't stand to have her touching him and calling him my darling. He sat up in bed and said an incantation, causing his body to be clothed in a brand new suit. Shyla walked into the room, holding the water glass.

"My darling, where did you get the new suit?"

"I called on the elementals and they made it for me. A basic spell if you know the right words and tones. Thanks for the water, Miss Teagan."

The young sorceress handed him a glass of water and Dashiell started drinking it.

"Call me, Shyla. I have been taking care of you for two years now."

"Ok, Shyla. There's something I want to tell you."

Shyla's face perked up. There was something strange about the man's tone. Could Ethan be right? Was her devotion wasted on him?

Dashiell continued: "I…I am grateful for all that you have done for me and I would like to get to know you better."

He could believe the words that came out of his mouth. He wanted to tell her to leave him alone, but he couldn't fight the strange feeling growing inside of him.

"I would love that. I have told you everything about me already, but I am sure you didn't hear it."

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