by Reed James
The sun set before us, peeking through the buildings that lined the streets we strolled down. We moved through the bustle. Sven strolled at the front, moving with that swagger of his. Even he had an extra boldness to his step.
Why not? He just married a harem of women and made us all cum over and over.
I kept smiling at passing women. I couldn't help myself. I was one of Sven's women. Not them. It made me feel... special. I was a part of something different. Something amazing. I didn't know what the future held. We had to destroy the amulet about Kora's neck and defeat my father.
He needed to be stopped. Peace needed to come to the Strifelands. Two hundred years of fighting wasn't accomplishing anything. No one had the strength to rule the entire country. The Empire of Zeutch would never be restored. Something else needed to take its place.
A peaceful coexistence of the various princes.
It didn't take long for us to reach the Temple of Krab. It rose before us, that squat, unassuming building almost ignored by the flow of traffic of people as they visited the more popular temples. Nearby, the priestesses of Slata lounged before their temple, wearing their skimpy robes, enticing men, and women, to visit them, to pay homage to the Mother Goddess in their arms.
How could Krab compete with that?
Sven led the way into the temple, marching up the few steps up to its porch with boldness. The door lay open, unlike this morning, and he marched through. His boots rang on the steps inside, Ealaín's armor clinking beside him.
Master Theophil appeared out of an alcove, wiping hands off on the leather apron he wore over his bare chest. The older man, with the brawny build of a blacksmith, glanced at us, nodding his head. His eyes fell on me, considering.
I smiled at him.
“Well?” Theophil grunted.
“It worked,” I declared, lifting my head. “I am creating life inside of me.”
“We'll see,” Theophil said. “Come.”
I took a deep breath. What would be in there? I shivered beside Kora, feeling the weight of my power upon my shoulders. It was all on me to open the vault, to reveal the way forward. Once we had the amulet destroyed and stopped one problem, then we could turn to deal with my father.
I let out a sigh. What happened to him? Once, while my mother lived, he was a good man. A good parent and husband. But did this icy ambition lurk in him even then? Did that affable smile he used to have hide the mind of a man who could enslave thousands of his own people and force them to puppeteer an army of stone statues? To allow the vile nagas across the mountains to send their raiders. How many slaves didn't make it to the stocks but stayed in their lands?
Men and women my father was supposed to protect and instead he allowed to be brutalized.
My hand clenched. I had to open the vault. We needed to stop him. So, I had to do this. I had to get us into it.
Journeyman Carsina appeared, the Valyan woman's bluish cheeks smudged with black grease. Her red hair fell in messy curls about her face while her leather work garb creaked with her steps. She flicked her eyes over us, a naughty gleam in them.
“Sven's still alive,” she said, “and yet you all look thoroughly pleasured.”
“He's a master at it,” Zanyia said.
“I'm just surprised he's still alive with all of you,” she said, glancing at my husband, a gleam dancing in her ruby eyes.
“Not for a lack of trying on our part,” Aingeal said, her voice a sultry purr.
Master Theophil grunted as he headed down the stairs to the basement. To the vault.
“I'm blessed by Slata,” Sven said, a note of pride in his voice.
“Yep, he once made a priestess of Slata cum so hard with his cunnilingus skill, she blessed him with the stamina to please all of us,” Kora said, such pride in her voice. “And you know how much whores those priestesses are.”
“Oh, yes,” nodded Carsina. “I prefer worshiping in their arms more than Saphique's.”
I blinked at that. Most women who used temple prostitutes went with Saphique. Her lesbian priestesses knew how to please women better than any. Even Kora, trained in the sexual arts, didn't know all the secrets of Saphique.
“Saphique doesn't create,” I said as it hit me a moment later. “That's why.”
“That's why,” nodded Carsina. “She's denying the purpose of her body and convincing whole swaths of women not to enjoy motherhood. It's the ultimate act of creation, and a portion of womanhood denied them. Even if they don't like men, it's a shame that they miss out on the purpose of their womb.”
“Women are more than their wombs,” Kora said even as she rubbed her bred belly.
“Definitely,” Carsina said, her voice echoing down the tunnel leading to the vault. “Just like a man is more than his cock spurting his seed, but that doesn't change what his dick was created to do.”
“I thought it was created to make women cum,” Sven said, throwing a roguish grin over his shoulder.
I giggled. “Yours is good at that.”
Carsina licked her lips.
Theophil stopped by the vault and glanced at us. “Do you want to just fuck him now, Carsina, or can we open the vault first?”
“Oh, I can wait,” Carsina said, a bright smile on her lips.
“Hey, he's a newly married man!” exclaimed Aingeal. She grabbed Sven's arm, pressing her naked tit to him. “Luben married us, and we all have to be faithful and honor each other. His dick is only ours.”
I frowned at Aingeal, her pink butterfly wings twitching behind her.
Sven arched an eyebrow. “You didn't swear to be faithful thrice.”
Mock anger flared across Aingeal's face. “I swore to Luben, the most stuffiest and boring of gods, to only love my husband and wives. So, I can't let you enjoy any other pussy but ours.”
“Oh,” Carsina said, her head lowering.
“Don't mind Mistress Aingeal,” Zanyia said. “If you want to be Master's sex slave, it's okay. We'll let you join. He doesn't get a choice about sex slaves, and you'd make such a beautiful one with that skin.”
Carsina blinked. “Sex... slave?”
“You don't want to be his sex slave?” Zanyia asked, her voice flat. “Because it's the—”
Master Theophil let out a barking throat clear that echoed down the hallway. “The vault, or did you want to just fuck him right here, right now while the rest of us waste our work time having to listen.”
Carsina cheeks blushed darker. “Sorry, Master.”
“See, you already know what to call him,” Zanyia grinned.
“Enough,” Sven said, his words flat. He placed his hand on Zanyia's head, scratching her between her ears. “Ava... Let's get this over with.”
I drew a deep breath and approached the silvery, shimmering brilliance of the vault. I shuddered at the metallic diamond door. My hand shuddered as I touched it, feeling the slick surface. My soul quivered as I felt the mechanics inside begging for me to control them. I slipped in to puppet the controls and unlock the vault.
Unlike last time, something quivered in my womb and the machinery responded. The mechanism didn't rebuff me this time. I slipped my control into it with ease. I turned it, my fertilized egg acting as a strange, metaphysical key that fit perfectly into the vault's lock. A loud, shuddering snap rang. The vault door rang like a bell.
“Krab's mighty hammer,” breathed Carsina.
Theophil grunted, but something sounded... eager. Not even he knew what was truly in here. He must have run this temple for decades wishing to get through it, waiting for the imbuer to arrive and open it. Why had Krab built this vault? Why had he set it up where only a female imbuer could open this?
The door creaked open.
Carsina gasped.
~ * ~
Prince Meinard – Echur, Princedom of Kivoneth, The Strifelands of Zeutch
“Newest reports from the front are not... inspiring, your Highness,” Gunther said as he stood before me, his back straight. The bluff-faced man, his b
lond hair cut short, stared at me without flinching. “The forces of Prince Reinhold caught our men out of position fording a river. The rear guard was cut off and are pressed against the banks. We're going to lose a third of our army.”
“It doesn't matter,” I said, staring up at him, my hands folded before me. “We are about to gain new allies. The storm will break.”
“Of course, Your Highness,” he said, his voice flat. “Even if you restore the Lodestone, Your Highness, reports are that Prince Reinhold destroyed every statue. It would take us years for artisans to replace that many.”
“We have another source of power,” I answered, my stomach clenching. The Paragon's hideous followers were almost to Az. I glanced out my study's window. The sun sank towards the horizon. It wouldn't be much longer before—
A touch quivered my soul. My proxy needed me.
“That will be all, Gunther,” I said.
The man blinked, his fingers flexing. I could see the objection forming on his lips. But then he bowed. “Of course, Your Highness. I will deliver the rest of my report... at your convenience.”
The moment Gunther withdrew, I leaned back in my chair, closed my eyes, and imbued my statue.
My soul flowed out of me and poured into my metallic body. My eyes opened. I stared up at the darkening sky, oranges and reds above my head. I sat up in the wagon and heard screams echoing around me. Men and women shouting and crying out in panic. I looked around to see people racing off the road, fleeing before the monstrosities of the Paragon, the foul creations of the Biomancer Vebrin, charging down the road.
The Colony pulled the wagon down the road at breakneck speed. The wheels bounced and a sickening crunch echoed from below. In our wake, a broken body lay sprawled on the ground, crushed by the wheels.
The Hunger hissed in delight, the centipede-like horror peered out of the back of the wagon, curled about itself. I glanced around and saw Az looming before us, the sun setting behind the city. Before the gates, the city guard formed up in their armor, readying to defend the city—my city—from the monsters with me.
A pit opened in my stomach as we hurtled towards the growing squad of soldiers. My own people.
I flexed my steel hand. I needed the Paragon's help. These men would die tomorrow defending Az from Prince Reinhold's army, or they could die today ensuring Kivoneth's survival.
Chapter Twenty-Three: The Princess Resonates
Sven Falk
The vault opened on creaking hinges. Both Theophil and Carsina stared in awe at the dark room. My own stomach swelled in knots. This was it. It wouldn't be long before we had the location of the Altar of Souls and...
I glanced at Kora. She held the ruby that held Vebrin's foul soul. A look of such hope crossed my step-sister's face. She gazed upon salvation, freedom from the burden about her neck. She didn't know what the cost would be.
Lights flickered to life inside. Crystals set into the ceiling shone a radiance on us. Ava, with a hesitant step, entered the vault. I followed her, Zanyia heeling me, Ealaín right behind us. I frowned as I entered, looking around the room at...
Suits of armor. Exotic armor. Armor made out of strange designs. Plate armor that looked made of rubies and sapphires, the way that the vault door looked made of diamond-impregnated steel. Another had a gleam of yellow, like the helidors imbued in its steel had the sun's glow trapped in them. There was a harness of leather straps and another suit of armor made of black leather that...
I shook my head, the black of the leather so dark it almost swallowed the light, becoming almost a negative space that almost arrested my gaze. I could just stare at it.
Carsina gasped nearby while the rest entered the room. Greta let out a squeak and Nathalie groaned. Ealaín's armor clinked as she drifted towards the glowing suit, admiring it with her gaze. I wanted to keep looking at the black leather but... but...
“Where's the map?” I asked.
“Not a map, the key,” growled Theophil. Then he let out a harrumphing grump. “You don't need me for this.”
I caught his gaze, his muscular arms folded before him. “What?”
“Carsina can explain it.” A smile crossed his lips. “Unless you want me to enjoy your women.”
I frowned at that, but he strode out of the vault. Whatever excitement he felt was gone. Vanished.
“What did that mean?” Aingeal asked.
“These are Powered Armor,” Carsina said in awe. “They're forged by Krab himself. These are what he created for the gods to wear and they're... here. I've dreamed of seeing them before. It is the highest goal of the Esoteric Crafts, a skill no mortal has ever mastered.”
“Why would Theophil think I'd want him to enjoy my women?” I asked, trying not to stare at the black armor.
“Because it requires the Blessing of Surrender to bond the armor with the wearer,” Carsina said. “I'd have to have sex with any who would don them. Well, any priest or priestess would. So if you want him enjoying your women. Or you.”
I gave her a hard look.
“These are so... interesting, Master,” Zanyia said. She crouched before the harness, her ears twitching with such excitement.
“They are, Master,” Nathalie said. My eighteen-year-old sex slave stood before the ruby suit of armor, her hand reaching out to touch the deep-crimson surface. She traced the stylized pattern of flames worked into the armor.
“Yes,” I said, moving closer to the leather armor. It did swallow the light. It was darker than everything around it. I stood before it, looking at the dimensions of it, my critical eye studying it. I hadn't worn leather armor since training in the Fencing College of Az, but... “It's a good thing you're sexy, Carsina.”
“I am?” she said, moving up alongside me. She pushed up her glasses on her nose. “And why is that?”
My dick swelling hard, I said, “Because I need—”
“This is it!” Ava said, standing over a hammer made of diamond. Scintillating light reflected off of it. “This is what I need.”
She grabbed it.
The brilliance inside the hammer flared to life. I flinched before it as the air hummed and vibrated. I felt something shift around us, like the foundations of reality had changed ever so slightly for me. Ava groaned from the light as it flooded through the room.
It grew brighter and brighter. I raised my arm to ward my eyes. The light surged with such intensity. It shone through my skin, my bones dark lines around cherry-red flesh. I flinched away, closing my eyes. But it shone through my skull. It radiated through my mind.
“This is it!” Ava cried out as the room quaked.
~ * ~
Prince Meinard
Soldiers died.
Blood sprayed through the air as the monstrous horrors of Vebrin surged into Az's militia. I strolled in the wake, making myself cold, beating down any queasiness. I had strode through battlefields before in this very body. I witnessed men hacked down to fall in expanding puddles of crimson, twitching and moaning as their life poured out of them.
But this...
The Hunger slithered into a squad of men. The segmented body dripped tar that coated the ground in its wake. Its mandibles ripped through steel plate and into the flesh of Az's defenders with ease. Men screamed as it ripped off legs. It scuttled through their midst as they hacked at it with ineffective strokes of swords or thrust with spears, points skittering off the chitinous thing.
It wrapped around one man, pouring its oily tar across shining armor. The man screamed as the Hunger's mandibles pierced into his skull. I clenched my iron fist and made myself colder than winter. Colder than death. These men had to die for Kivoneth to survive.
Flames burst around the Hunger. It became a blazing, undulating bonfire. The fire raced down its oily trail, burning around the feet of the squad. Men fell to the ground, the tar coating their armor blazing. Smoke rose out of joints of their armor as they cooked alive inside.
I was grateful I couldn't smell.
Masonry crashed t
o the ground to my left. Men screamed as a building collapsed onto them, burying another group of soldiers in heavy stone. A cloud of dust burst from it, rolling across the ground. The Formless oozed out of the rubble, the beige, viscous thing moving along by thrusting out flowing appendages to seize the ground and pull it, moving towards more carnage.
The Colony dissolved into a cloud of brown, buzzing insects, sweeping into another group of Soldiers. They screamed. One guardsman burst out of the boil of monstrous gnats, his face covered in swelling bites. He collapsed after two steps, gurgling, foam frothing at his mouth.
I shook my head. Why did they need me? Why hadn't they gone after Sven and his women before? Why did they bother using the naga to retrieve the amulet when they could do this? A hundred soldiers already dead and more dying in moments. The Hunter ripped through more soldiers, the emaciated, bear-like thing drenched in viscera.
Why did they need me here at all?
They could depopulate a city on their own and—
Chords of music filled the air. Zithers and lyres, mandolins and flutes. Voices sang as the bards from the College of Az appeared, a motley group of men and women playing their instruments, forming a concert of reverberating power. Their harmony assaulted the monsters.
The Formless contracted in on itself. The buzzing insects of the Colony fell out of the air to quiver on the ground around the groaning, spasming, dying men stung over and over by their venomous bite. The flames wreathing the Hunger snuffed out while the Hunter bellowed and thrashed.
The bards' music filled the town while the fencers flowed in around them, the deadliest fighters.
~ * ~
Ava
My womb quivered as the hammer blazed with light. I shuddered, feeling my soul bond with the arcane device. Such joy burst inside of me as I felt the power sweeping through the diamond. It stored this energy in its matrix, awaiting my arrival.
Power flowed through the room. It resonated with the armor. As the light faded so I could see again, I witnessed my family standing before them. Greta swayed in front of the sapphire-impregnated plate, one hand touching the banded skirt, the segments shaped like undulating waves. Ealaín shook her head before the suit that glowed with its own warmth. My husband stood strong beside the umbral leather.