He half-smiled at the thought. Stopping was simply not an option. Even if he wanted to, which he decidedly didn’t, Celia didn’t have the self-control.
For fear of harming him, they had avoided coupling for just over a week after he first awoke from his ordeal. Celia had grown better at controlling her Siphon, but not enough to stop it completely at will.
While their special link meant she did not need to Siphon demonic mana—the usual source of energy for a Succubus—that no longer appeared to be her primary motivation for seducing him. Celia had described how strong her Succubus instincts became when she was around him, and by the beginning of the second week of his bedrest, it had grown too much for her to bear. In what Aziel could only describe as a dazed state, she forced herself upon him, which was when they had discovered that even in his weakened state her Siphon would not kill him. His Soul Rejuvenation was still able to completely counteract its harmful effects, a fact Aziel was very thankful for.
“As attractive as staying in bed with you sounds, Celia, it has been a month. It’s time I checked on my faction and the ground floor modifications,” he said, causing her to pout.
“Things are all in order, when I last checked. The Grauda are, as usual, eager to impress their king.” She raised herself to her knees as she spoke, allowing the bed sheets to slide off her. Celia’s eyes glowed brighter and Aziel’s gaze was compelled to drift to her supple lips, then down along her collarbone and breasts. Thoughts of her perfect form and how he wished to claim her filled his mind…
It only took a moment for Aziel to realize what was happening and forcibly break himself out of her Charm.
“Celia,” he said, shaking his head, “you know you don’t need to use your skills to have me appreciate your beauty. I’d like to think that you realize at this point that I already love every aspect of it.”
Celia giggled. “Well, of course, Master,” she purred as her hands stroked along her thighs and up her sides. “Doesn’t mean I have to stop,” she added, her golden eyes flashing once more.
Aziel once again found himself compelled to gaze at her body. The use of her Charm on him was a relatively new development, and Aziel did not know why she felt the need to keep doing it, but he suspected she enjoyed having control over his mind and actions… even if it was only because he let her do so, as he had no trouble breaking out of it whenever he pleased.
Her Charm, while not a woven spell, was very much mana-based. It targeted the vessel directly, manipulating the way mana was directed around the body and the mind, to force certain actions or thoughts. Aziel could easily imagine how her Charm could get someone to act against their will without even realizing they were under the control of another. It was a truly powerful and dangerous ability.
With a vessel as large as his, however, her Charm struggled with even the simplest of manipulations unless he left himself open to it. Now, he allowed himself to do just that as Celia beckoned for him to approach. He could see her lips curve upwards as his eyes once again drifted down to her breasts, her waist. Just as he was about to reach for her, the door to their bedroom swung open and Aziel’s head shot up as Astrel strode in, the sudden interruption causing him to break the Charm.
“My king,” Astrel said, her honey-colored eyes darting between himself and Celia, before settling back on him. The Grauda queen examined him for a few moments; then she moved closer, placed her hands delicately on his shoulders and pushed him back down on the bed. “You are not fully recovered; you should stay in bed,” she said, as if chastising a child. She gave him a stern look, daring him to complain as her black antennae twitched.
Aziel let out a small sigh as he sat back up. Celia wasted no time taking advantage of this, repositioning herself behind him to hug him tightly against her. Aziel felt himself react as she molded her warm, lithe body to his. It was a compulsion he still couldn’t explain, but one thing was certain: the longer they stayed together, the more pronounced was this effect she had on him. Celia leaned forward and kissed his cheek before resting her chin on his shoulder, forcing him to tilt his head to make room for her curved horns.
“Good morning, Astrel,” he said, deftly gripping Celia’s probing hand and holding it against his bare chest to stop it from moving any lower. Ever since the events of Whiteridge, Astrel had been particularly protective of him. He supposed he couldn’t blame her. From her perspective, he was a figure of legends—not to mention her chosen king, a position unfilled ever since the ancient races ruled. Seeing him so weak and halfway past death’s door had shattered any illusion of his immortality.
But while he understood her reasoning, he still resented being cooped up in this one room, only able to move when no one was paying attention. Even with Celia keeping him company, Aziel was uncomfortable: it tapped into his fears of being trapped again, as he had been for centuries uncountable in a misty wasteland inside his own mind, until an accident had led Celia to him—and granted him his unexpected freedom.
Astrel must have noticed his gloomy mood, since she leaned in and cradled his face between her hands, then softly kissed him. Aziel instinctively responded, indulging himself in her lips. He released his grip on Celia’s hand and unconsciously slid his own up Astrel’s thigh and waist, her minimal clothing making it easy for him to feel her heat, the unique sensation of her Grauda skin, her strong yet soft body.
Astrel moaned into their kiss as she pushed herself against him. Celia giggled and took advantage of this distraction to continue her probing down his body. “I like where this is going,” she whispered, her breath tickling his ear. Aziel felt Astrel smile through their kiss.
It was truly astonishing how much the two had bonded over the task of keeping him in this room. It wasn’t too long ago that Astrel had scowled at the mere presence of Celia. Now, however, they were working together in ways he would have never imagined.
Catching himself, Aziel gripped Celia’s roaming hands tightly and broke off the kiss. He had to take deep breath and give himself a moment to calm down before refocusing on his goal.
“Astrel, what’s the latest with the modifications we’ve discussed?” he asked quickly. He noticed Celia pouting; Astrel, on the other hand, smiled and looked rather proud of herself.
“We are almost done, my king. The new entrance will be completed today—tomorrow at the latest. We will start collapsing the old entrance and hallway soon.”
“Almost done?” he asked curiously, a hint of surprise in his voice. “How is that possible?”
After reviewing the floor plans for Soul’s Rest, Astrel had suggested a few changes to the layout of the ground floor, while still aligning with the overall design the Caelian Empire had envisioned. Along with more minor modifications, she had proposed digging two new hallways and closing off the original entrance.
The first new hallway would lead directly from the imperial wing’s throne room to his place of power. Astrel’s reasoning was simple: his place of power was the most important room in Soul’s Rest and should not be so easily accessed. That was why closing off the old entrance was also crucial.
The second hallway, which would become the new entrance, would be over four times as wide and high as the original. The hallway was positioned to run through the old barracks, which would in turn be converted into an internal gatehouse to add another layer of defense.
It hadn’t escaped Aziel that the more they talked about Soul’s Rest as a center for government, the more modifications were required to make it so. Although the original Caelian design was detailed and logical to a degree, it appeared to be created with isolation and separation in mind. If Aziel wanted to keep Soul’s Rest open to his people in the future, then the Caelian version was flawed at a very foundation level.
He really could not understand what the late Caelian Emperor had been trying to achieve. Honestly, with all the luxuries it boasted, it was more like a secluded palace than a center of government. Aziel wondered what Vhal would think of this conclusion, but he hadn’t seen
or spoken to the lich in all the time he had been bedridden.
The Grauda had also already begun the momentous task of clearing large sections of forest around the mountain in order to create the required space for the city which would in time be built there. This had the added benefit of providing the timber required for beginning the construction of an external wall around the face of the mountain, adding another layer of fortification to Soul’s Rest.
This was why he was surprised at Astrel’s pronouncement. No matter how much he admired the Grauda’s speed and abilities, to finish most of that work in such a relatively short amount of time was impossible—especially carving the long hallways through solid mountain rock.
Astrel fidgeted a little under his inquisitive gaze, her antennae twitching frantically. “We worked hard to finish ahead of schedule,” she murmured softly, as if hoping he wouldn’t hear.
Celia snorted, before covering her mouth with her free hand in a failed attempt to stifle a giggle.
Suspiciously, Aziel glanced over at the Succubus then back at Astrel. “I know you and your people work hard, Astrel, but even with your unique skills… it’s not enough for the progress you’re reporting. I am now officially concerned. What is going on?”
Astrel bit her lip and looked away. That was when Celia couldn’t hold back any longer and burst out laughing.
“Oh, I can’t take it! She looks so adorable when she’s guilty,” Celia gasped between bouts of laughter. “She asked Vhal to help with his Water Weaving. It’s amazing what continuous high-pressure water can do to unenchanted rock. You could pull large chunks apart with your bare hands after he was done with a section!”
Astrel stared wide-eyed at Celia, but the Succubus simply grinned back at her and winked.
Aziel blinked in disbelief. “You asked Vhal to help? With digging? And… he agreed?”
Astrel gulped audibly. “I…” she paused, then blurted out: “I told him you ordered it.” When Aziel frowned, Astrel quickly added with a scowl at Celia, “It was the demon’s idea.”
“What?” Celia cried. “You should at least try to cover for me!”
“I will not let you corrupt me, demon. I shall not lie to my king!” Astrel turned suddenly to face Aziel, her eyes fixed on his, and hissed, “She even kept the lich from coming here and asking you himself! She said you were too unwell.”
Aziel felt Celia shrink a little against his back. “I was only trying to help… and get Vhal away from his study and decrypting those grimoires. I can’t handle listening to his creepy laughter all the time.”
Aziel had to work hard to keep a straight face. The relationship between his two lovers was not as solid as he had first thought, but it was still an improvement. While he understood Celia’s reservations regarding Vhal’s special behavioral quirks—Aziel also found the lich’s laughter eerie—that however didn’t excuse their actions. Celia had successfully convinced Astrel to use his authority over Vhal, and without his knowledge.
Even if the Fallen, a faction granted to him by the World Seed without explanation, was still small and undeveloped, allowing such a transgression early on would likely create a culture which would cause harm in the long run. A proper line of authority had to be created, and soon.
“Celia,” he said firmly, his hand squeezing hers tightly. “Whatever the reason, using my name to manipulate a faction member—a faction officer, no less—is unacceptable. Do not do it again, or there will be consequences.”
He felt Celia tense against him. “I…” she began, before bowing her head. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” Satisfied, Aziel turned to Astrel, whose face lost some of its color at his serious expression.
“I am sorry, my king,” Astrel said quickly, before turning to glare at Celia. “I won’t let the demon influence me again. I’ll make sure to inform you immediately if she does anything suspicious.”
In response, Celia simply shrugged. “You say this now, but I remember a certain black-haired insect grinning at a grumpy lich as he blasted rocks with his pretty blue magic.”
Astrel’s cheeks flushed slightly before her glare turned even more hostile. “A stray rock must have hit your head at some point, demon, as you appear to be imagining things,” she hissed.
“Uh-huh… well,” Celia rolled her eyes, then rested her head on Aziel’s shoulder again and grinned. “I’m sorry, Master, but you should have seen Vhal. I think he might have ruptured a vein from all the complaining. Hmm, now that I think of it… do lichs have veins?” she asked with genuine curiosity.
Aziel tried not to smile. “Let us get back on topic. At the very least, the deception was for a good cause.” He thought about standing, but Celia still had her hands wrapped around him tightly. Seeing no reason to force a seperation, he relented. “Is there anything else to report? I haven’t exactly been able to keep track of things.”
Astrel stopped glaring at Celia to dip her hands into a familiar-looking bag tied to her narrow belt. Aziel had no idea when she had acquired a dimensional bag of her own, but as the Grauda queen, he supposed she was entitled to one. A heavily enchanted item, the bag allowed for vast amounts of materials to be stored within it without adding to the weight, though it appeared the volume was limited to around a hundred times the size of the pouch. It was one of the greatest treasures they had found in Soul’s Rest, and only a limited number of them existed. Astrel’s possession of one revealed yet another area in need of some rules: who had the right to take treasures from the armory.
Astrel pulled out a scroll and handed it to him. “The map you commanded be made is still a work in progress, but functional. It is being updated with every scout report we receive.”
Aziel placed the scroll on the bed beside him. He didn’t need to see it to know what it contained: the rough outline he had sketched of the Central Wilds, using the map from his faction log as a reference. The creation of a physical three-dimensional map was the first thing he had ordered after things had calmed down. If there was one lesson Aziel had learned from Whiteridge, it was how willing and easily the World Seed could take away what it had given. The map of the Wilds was too valuable to risk losing again.
“Alright then,” he said. “Let’s go for a walk. I’d like to see it and your progress.”
Astrel frowned. “But my king, you’re still—”
Aziel raised a finger to silence her. “I’m fine, Astrel. More than well enough for a simple walk within my home.”
The Grauda queen did not look happy at this, but reluctantly took a step aside so he could stand. Celia, on the other hand, did not let go of him; instead, she trailed soft kisses down the side of his neck.
“Celia…” Aziel said, still holding her hand tightly against him.
“I’m going to miss having you stuck in bed,” she whispered, but released him to reach for a piece of her clothing, finally allowing him to stand.
Aziel rolled his shoulders and winced at the slight throb of pain there, but quickly cleared his throat to hide it from Astrel’s questioning gaze. “Shall we?” he asked, and moved as swiftly as he could from the bedroom, reaching for his own clothes as he went.
* * *
In the large hall that separated the two halves of the second floor, everything was exactly as Aziel remembered, but for one rather large exception. A massive circular wooden table now stood beside the fountain which dominated the center of the hall. The table looked to be made out of several entire tree-trunks pushed crudely together and hacked into shape, its simple construction in stark contrast to the opulence which surrounded it.
A group of Grauda males and a single female turned away from the table to face him, their eyes opening wide before they quickly kneeled before him. Aziel took a step closer and couldn’t contain a delighted grin. The table was covered in a clay-like substance, and using his map as reference—along with others he presumed they had found in the library, given the scrolls and books still laying about—the Grauda had skillfully molded it to show every major geographi
cal feature of the Eastern Peninsula. This was far and above what he had asked for.
Most of the map was in an unfinished state, which was to be expected. Astrel had mentioned it was still being updated, and any maps in the library would be woefully out of date from a political standpoint.
The section concerning the Central Wilds, however, was full of detail. From the highs of the surrounding mountain ranges to the thick lushness of the forest and wide-open spaces of the southeastern plains, all was depicted perfectly.
Soul’s Rest and the Grauda colony were clearly marked and creatively sculpted, but there were also two marked locations which appeared to depict the two Dryad groves he knew of: one just southeast of Soul’s Rest, and the other further east, near the mountains.
While the inner valley was mostly complete, other areas were less so. The southern plains had gaps where the detailed work faded out, while other sections had only a small wooden stick marking them.
Placing both hands at the table’s edge, Aziel leaned in to get a closer view of his newly claimed region. “What are those?” he asked, pointing at the sticks.
Astrel stepped beside him and took her time examining the map before facing the other female Grauda in the room. The female clicked her mandibles together, punctuated by soft hisses, and Astrel nodded. “Human settlements,” she translated.
“There are more humans living in the Wilds?” Aziel asked as a horrifying thought formed in the back of his mind. Would he have to repeat Whiteridge again?
Astrel’s secondary set of scythe-like arms rose slightly. “Most are small farming villages, but there are a few with larger populations. These were scouted some time ago, but the scouts kept their distance and only visited during the night, so as to not reveal themselves.”
“I see,” Aziel said as his eyes roamed over the sticks which peppered the plains. He had no idea what steps he should take to deal with them. If they were just farming villages, then he could probably ignore them—at least in the short term. But what if they were just like Whiteridge? A military base masquerading as an innocent settlement?
Fallen Ambitions Page 4