by Rowan Bree
Sometimes traders come to the town, but few have news from the kingdom. You don’t know what has happened in Tyven or if the monsters have spread elsewhere. For all you know the whole kingdom has fallen to the Order, all but the far reaches and hidden towns like the one you now call home.
One day a man wearing a dark cowl over his face rides into town. He carries a heavy sack which he drops at the feet of the men who come to greet him. He doesn’t dismount or utter a single word. He leaves as mysteriously as he came.
One of the men, mostly orc with a bit of a feline face and scales down his arms, upends the sack letting its contents drop to the dirt.
Gasps can be heard as the dead imp hits the ground. It is curled up like a baby. It could be sleeping but for its eerie stillness. Did the mysterious stranger carry it from Tyven as a threat or omen? Or did he encounter it in the forest and bring it to warn you that your forest home is no longer safe?
“We’ll burn it next dawn,” the orc says, stuffing the imp back in the sack and carrying it away.
You spend the rest of the day trying to warn the forest people of the monsters, the Order, and the takeover in Tyven, but no one will listen. It scares them, you think, imagining what goes on in the cities they’ve never seen. Things are simple here. They are willfully ignorant, given a false sense of security by the natural walls of the deep forest. But they are not safe.
You wake in the night to a shriek and jump out of bed. You fumble for a candle, sending the matchbook flying. What few matches you had are lost to the cracks in the floorboards. As you feel for them in the dark you listen to the silence. Perhaps you were dreaming.
Your fingers find a match and you light the candle. You hear a muffled wail and leave your room. No one else seems to have been disturbed by the noise. You are alone.
You go downstairs, listening at each of the rooms as you go. All is quiet, the occupants peacefully asleep. On the first floor are the innkeeper’s quarters. The door is ajar. You peek in to see the inkeeper, her legs sprawled and skirts hiked up around her waist. The imp has her gagged with her own stockings as he ravages her. He wasn’t dead but pretending.
He looks toward the doorway and you duck out of sight. You need to wake the town. You run from the inn and go house to house. The first one is already open, the prone body of a man lying in the entryway. Blood pools underneath him. You recoil and dash for the next house, but there you meet a similar scene. Two men stabbed in their beds and a trembling woman hidden in the pantry, her slip torn to tatters.
Each house you go to reveals more of the imp’s destruction. It is like a nightmare you can’t wake from. You fall to your knees in the streets of the ruined town.
“There you are, kitten.”
The cowled rider is behind you on his coal black horse. He pushes back his cowl revealing silvery hair and piercing violet eyes.
Vale slips a rope around your neck and pulls it nearly taut. If you stray too far you will be choked. He leads you out of the town, a pet on your master’s leash.
“It’s a long walk back to Tyven,” he says. “Do try to keep up.”
THE END
Back to the start.
—
Vale sits on the throne that once belonged to the king of Tyven. Now it belongs to the king of all realms, above and below. On his head is a crown of scorched human bones.
Around your neck is a collar, a mark of your servitude. You wear nothing else. You sit not on a throne, but in a cage in the center of the throne room. Often there are others in the cage with you, creatures handpicked by Vale’s most trusted servants to make sure he is entertained. Him, and anyone who passes through the throne room. Today, you are squished against the side of the cage while an imp takes its leisurely fill of you.
Over your shoulder you watch Vale as he reads the most recent letters from the heads of the Order in each city. The takeover was fast. The Old One granted Vale his power and crowned him as king over the new world. Most nobles bowed to their new leader as soon as the monsters reached their city. Only the magic of the Order can keep the creatures at bay. But even then there are times the creatures must feed.
Vale throws down the letters and sighs dramatically. “I’m bored.”
The imp keeps to its sluggish pace, its cock sliding in and out, in and out, occasionally breaking rhythm when the imp changes holes.
Vale snaps his fingers for a servant to attend him. “Bring kitten a new companion. Something I haven’t seen.”
You break out in a cold sweat, fear making you tremble. No matter how many times it happens you are still unable to numb yourself to the horror of a new monster. Each time the new ones are worse than the last. Sometimes you are used so roughly that you are unable to move for days afterwards. Other times your mind is shattered and you lose yourself to madness. You beg and beg for depraved things to be done to you, listening in horror to your own words. But the Order’s mages are master healers and always bring you back to sanity. It’s worse that way. Madness is kinder.
Sometimes you think you see Vale looking at you the way he used to. There is something in those stolen glances that gives you hope. Maybe one day Vale will find it in his heart to show you mercy. Maybe there is a part of him that is still fond of you.
You catch him looking at you that way just now. He glances away from you, his expression guarded. You keep watching him and he looks back, holding your gaze this time. He bites his lip. He summons one of his servants, whispering in his ear. Is it possible your prayers have been answered?
THE END
Back to the start.
Vale sits on the throne that once belonged to the king of Tyven. Now it belongs to the king of all realms, above and below. On his head is a crown of scorched human bones.
Around your neck is a collar, a mark of your servitude. You wear nothing else. You sit not on a throne, but in a cage in the center of the throne room. Often there are others in the cage with you, creatures handpicked by Vale’s most trusted servants to make sure he is entertained. Him, and anyone who passes through the throne room. Today, you are squished against the side of the cage while an imp takes its leisurely fill of you.
Over your shoulder you watch Vale as he reads the most recent letters from the heads of the Order in each city. The takeover was fast. Most nobles bowed to their new leader without question.
Vale throws down the letters and sighs dramatically. “I’m bored.”
The imp keeps to its sluggish pace, its cock sliding in and out, in and out, occasionally breaking rhythm when the imp changes holes.
Vale snaps his fingers for a servant to attend him. “Bring kitten a new companion. Something I haven’t seen.”
You break out in a cold sweat, fear making you tremble. No matter how many times it happens you are still unable to numb yourself to the horror of a new monster. Each time the new ones are worse than the last. Sometimes you are used so roughly that you are unable to move for days afterwards. Other times your mind is shattered and you lose yourself to madness. You beg and beg for depraved things to be done to you, listening in horror to your own words. But the Order’s mages are master healers and always bring you back to sanity. It’s worse that way. Madness is kinder.
Sometimes you think you see Vale looking at you the way he used to. There is something in those stolen glances that gives you hope. Maybe one day Vale will find it in his heart to show you mercy. Maybe there is a part of him that is still fond of you.
You catch him looking at you that way just now. He glances away from you, his expression guarded. You keep watching him and he looks back, holding your gaze this time. He bites his lip. He summons one of his servants, whispering in his ear.
Is it possible your prayers have been answered?
THE END
Back to the start.
—
Daylight streams in from the end of the hall. You shield your eyes and stagger forward. Men in armor move towards you. Their arms held out to ste
ady you feel solid, human, real. You sob from relief. You’ve made it to the end of the passage.
The men ask you if you are okay, but your throat is bone dry and you can’t make a sound. They help you to the door and you take your first steps out into the sunlight. You lean against a wall while the men talk quietly to each other.
“How long has she been down here?” one of them asks.
“She hasn’t starved so can’t be long.”
“Why didn’t she just leave? The door was unlocked.”
“Did you see that back there? The floor. It looks like she’s been pacing back and forth for gods know how long.”
“She must have gone mad. You saw the state of her. The monsters must have gotten her the night of the feast.”
Cold dread fills you. Could it be possible? Were you pacing back and forth along the same stretch of hallway the whole time you were down there? Have the monsters driven you mad?
“Should we bother our master with telling him?”
“It might be her, the one we’ve been looking for. Best to be safe.”
The men take you into the castle and up to the throne room. Vale sits on the throne, a crown of scorched human bones on his head. He looks at the men but not you, then back down to the letters in his hands.
“Leave us,” he says.
The men withdraw. It is just the two of you now in the stark, empty hall. Vale and his kitten.
Vale speaks. “The dragon told me what he offered you, and that you did not accept.”
Pride swells inside you. Vale knows that you were loyal to him, that you care about him. Maybe he will finally show you the affection you crave from him.
“Which was utterly foolish. Do you know what you could have done with that power? Do you have no ambition?” Vale’s voice booms in the empty hall. You shrink back.
You want to tell him you did it for him. Your voice cracks. Your dry throat stings.
“Luckily I was more forward thinking. The dragon has granted me power beyond what I could ever imagine.” He clenches a gloved fist, releasing it to produce a ball of flame. Inhuman shadows dance inside the fire and shrieking voices fill the hall. He extinguishes the flame.
“But I can’t stay mad at you, kitten,” he says.
He gets up and goes to you. His gloved fingers glide across your cheek as he looks into your eyes. His violet eyes are as intoxicating as ever, his full lips begging to be kissed. He leans in, whispering into your ear. “You can start as my servant and work your way up. Maybe if you’re good you’ll earn a treat.”
His thumb traces your lower lip. You ache for him.
Vale goes back to his letters without a second look at you.
You bow your head and get to work.
THE END
Back to the start.
—
Vale sits on the throne that once belonged to the king of Tyven. Beside him stands the Old One, his hand stroking the mage lovingly. On Vale’s head is a crown of scorched bones, the mark of the new king of all the realms.
You wear a collar, a mark of your servitude. You are allowed to wear nothing else. Your place is in a cage in the center of the throne room. Often there are others in the cage with you, creatures handpicked by Vale’s most trusted servants to make sure he is entertained. Him, and anyone who passes through the throne room. Today, you are squished against the side of the cage while an imp takes its leisurely fill of you.
You watch Vale as he reads the most recent letters from the heads of the Order in each city. The takeover was fast. After the Old One granted Vale his power, the nobles quickly bowed to their new leader. Most of the kingdom has fallen and only some of the further reaches remain, the largest being the sea tribes and the deep forest dwellers who are not as easily scared by monsters and magic.
Vale throws down the letters and sighs dramatically. “I’m bored.”
The Old One’s grip tightens on the mage’s shoulder. “Does ruling the kingdom tire you?” he asks. “There are others who would commit all manner of atrocities for your position. Shall I seek someone new?”
Vale’s expression pales. “No, master. But what use is the power you granted me if I can’t use it? I should be out there enjoying what is mine. I need to.”
The Old One’s grip tightens. Vale winces in pain. “Is your little cock yearning for blood, for violence?” He yanks Vale up off the throne and forces him against it. “Because I can show you violence.”
Vale moans as the Old One’s hand closes around his throat. You turn away from them.
The imp pulls out of you and switches holes. You should feel lucky you were only given an imp today. Some days it’s far worse. Sometimes you are used so roughly that you are unable to move for days afterwards. Other times your mind is shattered and you lose yourself to madness. You beg and beg for depraved things to be done to you, listening in horror to your own words.
But the Order’s mages are master healers and always bring you back to sanity. You wish they wouldn’t, as madness is far kinder than the hell you have found yourself in.
THE END
Back to the start.
—
You come to find that the town indeed has no name. It has never needed a name, being so disconnected from the business of the rest of the kingdom. The orc-lizard-cat folk let you stay in their town and work odd jobs in exchange for food and lodging at the inn. You find plenty to keep you busy between the work and the late nights at the bar with the town’s men. You are somewhat of a novelty as the only human woman within miles.
Sometimes traders come to the town, but few have news from the kingdom. Each time you ask them to take you back to Tyven but they are never going in that direction. You tried leaving once, only to become hopelessly lost in the ancient forest. A couple of the town’s hunters luckily found you out there and brought you back.
You don’t know what has happened in Tyven or if the Order has gone elsewhere. For all you know Vale has succeeded in bringing the whole kingdom under the Order’s rule, all but the far reaches and hidden towns like the one you find yourself stuck in.
One day a man wearing a dark cowl over his face rides into town. He doesn’t dismount but stops his coal-black horse in front of you. He reaches out a hand.
“Kitten,” he says, pushing back his cowl to reveal silvery hair and violet eyes.
You take Vale’s hand and climb up onto his horse. His hands circle your waist.
“I’ve been searching for you,” he says. “The kingdom is ours.”
“Yours and mine?” you ask.
“Mine and the Order’s,” Vale replies as you enter the forest. “You disappointed me, and you’ll have to once again prove your worth to me.”
His words pierce you like daggers. All you want is Vale’s approval, his affection.
“Until then you’ll be my personal servant,” he says, leaning in close. You can feel his hips moving against your backside with the horse’s gait. “And I’ll expect the utmost care and attention given to me at all times.”
You shiver with anticipation at the thought of attending to Vale’s every need. Maybe disappointing him wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
THE END
Back to the start.
—
You come to find that the town indeed has no name. It has never needed a name, being so disconnected from the business of the rest of the kingdom. The orc-lizard-cat folk let you stay in their town and work odd jobs in exchange for food and lodging at the inn. You find plenty to keep you busy between the work and the late nights at the bar with the town’s men. You are somewhat of a novelty as the only human woman within miles. You hear no news of Tyven.
Eventually it is time to give birth to the forest god’s offspring. The alchemist does what he can to help, but it is still a trial you must endure alone. You lie in bed, exhausted but relieved. In your arms are two bundles. Your faunlike children mewl, their features more human than deer. But the boy alr
eady has little buds on his head that will become full antlers like his father’s. You hope the town’s people will accept them.
The stairs creak as heavy hoofsteps approach. You remember the deer in the woods, Cernunnos. The one who gave you these children. The door opens slowly. You feel your breath catch in your throat.
But it is not Cernunnos, it is a demon with a goatlike face and two curving horns. He carries a rope with a loop tied at one end.
You tell him to stay away, holding your babies close to your breast.
“You don’t know what you’ve done, have you?” he asks.
He comes to the side of the bed and reaches for your children. You fend him off.
“When his children are born, the primal, ancient realms that not even the Order can touch will be set free. The cities may be our domain but the wilds shall be theirs. Their only link will be you, the mother of both.”
He grabs you by the wrist, his fingers threatening to crush your bones, and forces you to stand.
“It’s a long walk back to Tyven,” he says. “And Vale is expecting us.”
You should have known you couldn’t escape the Order so easily. You ask the demon what will happen to your children.
“Leave them,” he tells you. “Their father will come for them.”
Even if that’s true, it seems wrong to just leave your newborns like that.
The demon yanks you towards him and grasps you by the throat. Red flames dance in his eyes as he peers deep into yours. “I said, leave them.”
You do as you’re told and follow the demon outside.