The Chosen One: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (The Airluds Trilogy Book 2)

by Nhys Glover

  'Dark and Jaron have that covered,' he said with a chuckle. 'We can take turns with babe-minding the way we take turns doing other things.'

  I turned and swatted his arm in mock-outrage. 'I don't like it when you describe it as taking turns with me. Like I'm a toy you have to share.'

  Calun kissed me deeply then. 'Not a toy, a precious gift we all have to play nice and share. When sometimes...'

  He didn't have to finish that thought. I knew sometimes they all wished I was theirs alone. But not often. It amazed me how possessive and loving they could be with me, and yet how capable they were of accepting the others into their bond. I think it had something to do with the love they all felt for each other and their easy acceptance of their physical needs.

  And with that thought I lifted up and sank down over Calun's waiting cock. Watching his face as I felt his pleasure in my mind, I grinned smugly. Oh, we would take turns. I was more than ready to take turns.

  ☼☼☼

  The following morning we sat lazily around the fire. It was so nice not to feel pressured to do anything, be anywhere, and be anyone but ourselves. Here we weren't the Goddess and her harem: the legendary Airluds. Here we were just Airsha, Dark, Rama, Calun and Jaron. A family; complete with childlings.

  "Your mother wasn't a peasant, was she?" I mused absently, playing with the sparks floating above us. With a little breeze I could make them dance.

  I had wondered a lot about her over the time I'd known my men, and she made me curious. I'd probed Calun's mind for memories of her, but he couldn't give me much. Partly because he'd had a child's self-centred attitude to his mother, never imagining she'd had a life beyond mothering him, and partly because he didn't want to go there. I could only access the parts of his memories or thoughts he brought to the surface of his mind. And the traumatic memory of his mother's death was too painful to ask him to resurrect.

  Darkin shook his head. "No, I don't think she was. But she never talked about it much. It was too painful. Though when I was little we had some lovely things, genteel things. Like an embroidered tablecloth and a piece of lace. Things that were impractical but added touches of beauty to our home. One by one those things disappeared. When the men didn't come because she was pregnant or recovering from a birth and we still needed feeding."

  He curled in on himself, lost in a painful memory. I wished I hadn't brought it up. Why did I always have to ask questions, always prod to get answers others didn't want to give? Why couldn't I leave well enough alone?

  But Rama took up the story in that deep melodic baritone that slid over my senses like velvet. "She used to tell us bedtime stories about a princess who was lost in the forest and found by a handsome young man. They fell in love immediately, but it didn't matter. He was a pauper and she a princess. They could never be together. She was told she would be dead to her family if she tried to see him again. But the princess loved the young man and finally ran away with him. Her family was so incensed they let it be known she had died.

  "The princess continued to love her husband very much and didn't care that they were poor. But when he got sick and died she was left alone with a babe in arms. She went to her family for help and they slammed the door in her face. They had her driven away by the guards.

  "So she lived her life as best she could and had more babes that she loved with all her heart. And she was happy. Though life was hard, she was happy."

  I felt the tears pricking at my eyelids. Gods, if that were true, if their mother was a princess like me... But no, not like me. I lived in a closed harem. None of us could ever go out and get lost in the forest and meet a young man. It was impossible. But what about in other kinglunds? It was possible that other harems had more freedom than ours.

  "It was just a story. It wasn't real," Darkin argued, looking very trouble now.

  "Then who was she?" Rama challenged. "I used to think about that all the time when I was little. If Ma was a princess, what did that make us? Luds? It was stupid, but I wanted to know. I'd ask her for more details to the story. Like where the princess had lived. What the princess' life was like before she met the young man. Anything I could think of to find out more."

  Dark rolled his eyes. "It was a story, Rama. Just a story. Ma told us that. When you'd go on about being a lud she'd tell you not to be silly. That she wasn't the princess. How could she be? 'Do I look like a princess?' she'd say with a laugh. 'Thinking things like that'll get you nowhere, my lad.'"

  Rama and I were alike in more ways than our shadow selves, our inner beastlings. Where Darkin liked to accept what he was told. We preferred to question everything. Dark fought not to question, until the evidence added up and he could no longer avoid the truth. Most people were like Dark, people who accepted human sacrifice and female castration. They never questioned decisions made by those more powerful than them. They went along. Looked the other way. I had gone along, until I couldn't anymore. I had thought Father was right. I might have questioned, but ultimately I'd accepted the answers I was given. Until I couldn't.

  "Aye, that's what she said. But isn't that exactly what the princess disowned by her family would say? She wasn't saying I was wrong to think those things, only that thinking them would get me nowhere," Rama argued back.

  Dark turned on me, his distress evident. "Why are you asking about Ma? Would you prefer husbands with better pedigrees than ours?"

  I huffed out my disgust. "You know better than that. It's just things don't make sense. Have you never questioned Calun's ability? He doesn't just have a way with airlings, he talks to them. We all jumped pretty quickly to the conclusion that Flea was an Elemental Mistress because she can read thoughts, but what about Calun? Except that his power was with him from birth, doesn't he fit the criteria for an Elemental Master?"

  I could hear Calun arguing against the idea in my head, but I ignored him.

  "So this is part of your Knowing that magic is passed down through the female line? In that case, why don't the rest of us have magic?" Dark demanded.

  "I'm starting to think that it requires latent magic on both sides. Father doesn't have magic but he could produce magical childlings. But only if his wives were latent like him. The priests chose his wives for him. Probably had the blood-lines all mapped out, based on their connection to magic. It explains why a magical son might not have magical daughters but could have magical granddaughters, because his son's wife might not have been latent but his grandson's wife might have been."

  My men were shaking their heads in confusion. I was getting caught up again.

  "Look, these are just a few things that started me wondering. But none have to mean anything. It's not like the Goddess is giving me a Knowing about it. Not really. But Calun has magic. And you were all obviously educated above your station. Flea reminds me of Calun. What if a magically potent father with reddish hair bedded your mother and then, a few suns later, bedded Flea's mother. If he's a latent and your Ma and Flea's were too, then they could have magical childlings."

  "Isn't that a stretch?" Rama asked, more out of interest than annoyance.

  "Possibly. But I imagine there has been more than one well-bred girl cast out by her family for choosing the wrong husband."

  'You think Flea is my half-sister?' Calun cried into the pregnant silence that had fallen in the cavern.

  'I think it's a possibility. There are gestures you share and mannerisms. You even have the same nose. It's more than just your colouring. And your magic is similar.'

  He nodded. 'That actually feels right. I've felt fond of her from the start. But not in a romantic way.'

  "It doesn't change anything if Ma was a princess," Dark grumbled.

  I shrugged. "No, but it's interesting, don't you think?"

  He rolled his eyes at me and huffed. I suppose not.

  "It makes me mad," Rama said

  I looked at him to encourage him to go on.

  "If she had a rich family − maybe not royalty, but maybe nobility − and they refused to ta
ke her in when she was destitute; it was as good as killing her themselves," he said through gritted teeth. "I thought the Godling was a monster for sacrificing his daughters to gain favour with the gods, but this is just as bad. I want to find her family and make them pay."

  "Maybe they're siding with the Godling and that's exactly what we'll do," Jaron said, speaking for the first time. I had been aware he was remaining out of the conversation, but I hadn't known why. Because he was the youngest and remembered their mother the least?

  "That doesn't sound like you, little brother. It almost sounds like you're ready to fight," Rama mused, his brows puckered in curiosity.

  "She was my mother too. I know how hard her life was. You all thought that because I laughed and joked, and because I was the baby, I didn't know. But part of the reason I played the clown was to make her life better. Laughing makes even the worst things better."

  Jaron was lounging at my side his head close to mine, so I reached out and stroked the side of his face.

  "And mayhap that is as good a place as any to leave talk of your Ma. Her life lacked a great deal, but she had something most people don't ever have, the love of sons like you. I think at least that part of the story was true. Life was hard but she was happy."

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  AIRSHA

  But even the most beautiful idylls must come to an end. And of course it was Dark who reminded us of this that evening. The babes were abed, and we had swum and played in the heated pool, our lovemaking all the more intense because we could sense our time here coming to a close. We sat by the fire, eating our evening meal that consisted mostly of the green succulent leaves that abounded in the cavern, and let the world catch up with us at last.

  "We'll need to rework our schedule after what's happened. We've fallen behind in our projected timeline," Dark said, stirring the fire with a stick to get a little more warmth from it. I helped him with a thought, sending the flames licking upward and, after a start, he looked my way and smiled in acknowledgement.

  I enjoyed playing with my magic now. In small ways, I flexed my magical muscles every chance I got. If I was going to do this, I wanted to do it well.

  "The longer we get to stay out of the real action, the better I feel about it," Jaron said. "So I see the raid as having had a silver lining."

  "The war isn't going to be over before we get to it,' I told him, a little annoyed with his change of attitude. Only this morning he was talking about making his mother's family pay if they were on the side of the Godling. I knew he wasn't a coward, he'd proven that often enough, but he was also not keen to fight. Or, more accurately, to put his loved ones in danger. I felt, more than knew, that seeing Rama go down amongst the Clifflings had left a permanent mark on his soul. Yes, part of it was helplessness and guilt over what he'd been unable to stop, but more than that, he'd just hated seeing his brother hurting. And sometimes Rama still hurt, though the worst was over. He gave me the credit for that, but I knew it was Ramin who had worked the greatest healing magic on him.

  "We won't be assigned to the front line, Jaron, no matter what. We're too valuable to them," I assured him.

  "And to the Godling. He'll be doing everything in his power to find you again, and stop you for good. Remember, without you there is no rebellion," Dark said sombrely.

  "So what you're saying is that we're fragged no matter what," Jaron joked sourly.

  "What I'm saying, and you already know it, is that we'll be in constant danger until this war ends. Even after it ends, if Airsha becomes Godling... or Goddess Incarnate. People will want to take her down. Take her childlings down. We'll always have to be vigilant."

  I groaned. The lovely lazy space we'd created was fast evaporating. Why couldn't Dark allow us another day or two to just be?

  But that was selfish. I knew it. These few days we'd allowed ourselves were so we could prepare for the next challenge. People were dying every day we lazed around the fire or played and made love in the pool. Each day we let this war go on we condemned families, whole towns and cities, to losses and death. Setting fire to the Badlunds was just the beginning for my father. He would be harsh in his retribution. If he couldn't have the world then he'd burn it down around all our ears instead.

  "Keep talking like that and we'll all be reaching for a knife to end it faster," Rama carped.

  Dark growled in annoyance. "I'd expect that from Jaron but not you. I'm not trying to scare you or make any of us feel overwhelmed. I'm trying to be realistic. We all knew what we signed on for when we found out what Airsha was. We knew there was no going back to our old, simple life. I just want us to keep that uppermost in our minds. A couple of days ago we found out that we'd been betrayed. We almost lost Airsha because we were tricked by magic. Magic we were unaware of. I don't know how we protect ourselves from that."

  I felt my fighting instincts rise at the fear in his voice. "I can defeat that kind of magic now. I can do all sorts of things I didn't know I could do before the other day. I'd been complaining that the Goddess wasn't powerful enough, or wouldn't give me the power I needed, but it was me who was holding myself back. Just like when I was scared to let my magic out through sexual pleasure at first. Now I know other magic can't stand against mine.

  "Instead of frightening me, that power now exhilarates me. I am over feeling inadequate and barely able to carry out the daunting tasks assigned to me by a Goddess I didn't know existed a few short moons ago. In the last few days I've proven something to myself. And to my father, as well; although he still doesn’t have an inkling of the true extent of my power. Nothing he can do can hold my magic back now. No magical son or betraying twin can stop me. And with you beside me..." I indicated all my men. "... I'm invincible. We're invincible!"

  For a long time after I finished my impromptu speech my men sat staring into the fire. In the end it was Calun who spoke and I was forced to pass on his words.

  "Calun says we can worry and fuss about the future or we can just get in and do everything we can to defeat the Godling. No one knows if we will win or lose, even the Goddess. But we've come a long way in a few moons. All of us. We just have to keep doing what we've been doing and dealing with whatever shite gets thrown at us, day by day. That's life, after all. That's what you were doing before I turned your lives upside down: just living your life day by day as best you could. And our best might be a lot better than it was, but it's still not... invincible, no matter what I say."

  I looked at Calun to see if I got that right. It was always hard to speak his thoughts without getting them tangled up with mine.

  The men nodded, more accepting of Calun's little speech than mine. Mayhap I was letting the power go to my head. Calun was right. In his mind I saw my immense power, but that I still hadn't learned to use it yet. Just as a sharp, shiny sword had great potential; it didn't make its owner a master swordsman just by possessing it. I still had so much to learn before I could even think of being invincible.

  "So we're going then," I said a little sadly, looking at the others. "We've had our fun and now we get back to whatever shite gets thrown at us, day by day?"

  "We had a shite fight once, when we were little," Jaron said with a grin. "It was fun."

  Dark hit him upside the head, but not with much force. My wise clown was right. Shite fights could be fun.

  I wrinkled my nose though. "As a metaphorical statement, I agree, but let's not make it real. Boys are disgusting!"

  "What the shite is a metaphorical statement?" Rama groused, though I knew it was an act. He had a vocabulary that beat most people I knew, noble or otherwise. Which reminded me of our earlier conversation. What difference did it make if my men were born to a disowned noblewoman? None. But it might mean they all carried latent magic, which, when mixed with mine, produced magical babes.

  And if I was right and Calun was an Elemental Master, that meant I wasn't the only woman capable of bearing magical sons independent of the Godling. All the beliefs held by both sides of this war we
re faulty or incomplete. It was yet another piece of the bigger puzzle I was slowly unravelling.

  "I think our absence probably hasn't made much of a difference to the new timeline. Flea would have let the rebel leaders know what happened and they're likely looking for a new site for our centre as we speak," Darkin said thoughtfully.

  "So we can stay another day?" I suggested hopefully. I could feel Jaron egging me on. Calun was occupied with his own thoughts that he was shielding from me. I was used to this. We both needed our own space and took it when necessary.

  "No, I think we need to make a move tomorrow morning. It'll take most of the day to get to the stronghold from here. We need to reassure them you're well and to broadcast your growing power. That can't be done from a distance. People have to see what you can do with their own eyes."

  "You want me to perform like a... like a trained wadja?" I exclaimed indignantly.

  "I want you to demonstrate your abilities in front of enough people so that stories of your power will spread even further than they already have. People fight harder when they believe in what they fight for. They need to believe in you. In your power. In your right to take down the Godling. They have to believe you are invincible."

  I looked at Rama and found he was nodding his agreement with Dark. This was the part I still had issue with. I didn't like being dangled in front of frightened people's faces as if I was a treat for a lazy beastling. If they fought, they needed to fight for what they believed in. Not me.

  "I don't want them to fight just because of me," I almost whimpered.

  "They won't. They are fighting for the right to be magical. To not have to hide their magic from the world anymore, in case the Godling finds out and ends them. They fight for the Goddess and a world where magic is unbound, free for all. You simply represent that for them. You are the living, breathing embodiment of the Goddess, which reinforces in their minds that She is real. And that She wants this."