Fallen Ambitions

by Vann, Eric J.

  He dropped the seed into his bloody palm. It shook before it began absorbing his blood, almost… drinking it. It was a strangely disturbing sight—he really hoped he wouldn’t need to keep feeding the grove his blood in future.

  He looked at Niyela to check if this was enough, but her eyes were closed, and she wore an expression of pure bliss. Placing his unbloodied hand on her head broke her free from the half-trance, and she quickly nodded indicating it was indeed sufficient.

  Aziel took a few steps behind his curved rock and knelt to place the seed there. As soon as it touched the ground, the seed trembled then sunk into the rock as if it was made of fine sand. Aziel rose to rejoin Niyela, as he felt the ambient mana surrounding them drop sharply.

  “Ohhhh…” Niyela moaned beside him. She closed her eyes again as if to focus on the sensations, and the ground beneath them began to rumble and shake.

  With a loud crack, a large green stem broke through the ground where he had planted the seed. It grew with alarming speed until it reached the high ceiling of the chamber above, where it pushed against the rock and then, as if realizing there was no more room, began expanding horizontally. Hundreds of large branches spread out to either side, followed rapidly by smaller branches. Finally, countless silvery leaves sprouted to create a large crown above them both, the leaves’ reflective surfaces shimmering in the light of the crystals.

  Aziel noted with unease that the surrounding mana levels continued to drop. Had he just made a huge mistake? Even the eight Capital Crystals were struggling to maintain the mana against the massive draw of the tree. The tree’s trunk grew thicker and thicker, until it began wrapping and twisting itself around his curved rock. To his surprise, it twisted in ways that kept the overall shape of the seat intact. Now, instead of a rock, his seat was a lattice of large branches. The wood of the trunk had even picked up some of the smaller mana crystals embedded into the ground around the throne, and they now protruded from the bark’s surface like tiny jewels.

  Just as suddenly as it began, all movement ceased. Silence returned to the chamber.

  Aziel grimaced. Even with Capital Crystals continuously releasing mana into his chamber, it would take two or even three days to recover fully. The Dryad had absorbed a tremendous amount, to the point where Aziel was certain his place of power would have ceased functioning if she had continued for even a little while longer. The quantity of mana used dwarfed what he had used to evolve Celia by a significant margin.

  He looked down at Niyela beside him, only to open his eyes wide at what he saw.

  Instead of the innocent, young face he had expected, he instead stared at pair of naked green breasts. He blinked, unable to understand, before raising his head to see a much-matured Niyela smile back at him. She must have grown three feet since the planting of her tree.

  “I knew both you and this place were special when I entered,” she said, and her voice had a new, silky quality to it. “But to think my tree would grow so much in such a short amount of time. This mana—your mana—is so sweet… I couldn’t stop myself. It is wonderful,” she breathed.

  Aziel could only stare.

  “I’m not even breaking tradition by not being a Greater Dryad. In fact, I might be making Dryad history—the first of my kind to surpass her mother,” she said wonderingly, and her brown eyes grew distant for a moment, an expression that made Aziel assume she was going over her log. Niyela blinked, a look of amazement crossing her features as she turned her attention to her tree. “It would take Mother a good fifty to a hundred cycles to reach this size at her current rate. I will need to check on my tree, to ensure the growth spurt didn’t damage anything.”

  She then turned back to Aziel and surprised him by kissing his cheek.

  Aziel remained still, not knowing how to react. He was even more shocked when her soft kiss became a slow, sensual lick, the trail of heat her tongue left behind leaving him stunned. Niyela let out a soft giggle before gently wiping his cheek dry with her hand.

  “When I return, we can speak of expanding your grove, Grove Master,” she said, pronouncing the last words slowly and with deliberate meaning before turning and walking into the tree.

  Aziel was so shocked by what had already occurred that he didn’t even blink when her naked form was swallowed whole by the tree. He cleared his throat, wondering what he had gotten himself into, before breaking into a small, private chuckle.

  Well, this is unexpected, he thought, before taking a seat in his new chair. The bark which covered the seat had even created thick and comfortable armrests. Celia would probably appreciate that, he thought with a smile. At that moment, his mark began to heat up and a notification formed before him.

  You have gained a new trait, Grove Master.

  * * *

  Grove Master

  Class: Title

  You have been offered and have accepted the role of Grove Master.

  * * *

  Effects:

  Increased fertility with Blossom Niyela.

  Dryads of your grove will be bonded to you.

  * * *

  Aziel stared at the notification, his eyes focusing on one word before the runes faded away. Bonded?

  Chapter 7

  Celia crouched at the edge of the tree line and looked out across the vast, undulating plains which covered the southeastern part of the Central Wilds. She had not been to this section of the Wilds for some time now, and her life had changed so drastically since then.

  As predicted, there was no sign of Wervins in the forests, but Celia was not concerned. The pests would show themselves sooner or later.

  Unlike Vhal, who kept his reasons to himself, Celia openly shared her hatred and disgust for the so-called horde. Although she had never seen or heard of a Wervin before, the Dryads’ description of them was disturbingly close to the Troggs, the bane of all those living in unwalled settlements across the Jannatin Empire. Troggs didn’t kidnap people to dominate the area or for any other nefarious reason, though. They simply murdered them.

  Most village horror stories were derived from these violent and indiscriminate monsters. Their cruelty and habits had at times been a topic of study during her mage classes, and hunting them was the most common contract adventurers undertook. In fact, she remembered now, when her father had still been an adventurer, the majority of his hunting contracts had been for Troggs.

  It was a realization that brought with it a wave of guilt she didn’t expect to experience. No matter what angle she tried to see it from, the truth was that by claiming the Wilds, the Fallen had driven out any military force loyal to a different faction—and that included adventurers. Aziel saw the Wervins’ expanding sphere of influence as a result of this vacuum, and Celia had no doubts about what that meant for the humans left behind. They were now suffering due to sudden departure of the other factions, left vulnerable to attack. And all because of the Fallen.

  Creatures such as Troggs and Wervins were the main reason every town or settlement needed to have some sort of militia and garrison. Their raids were frequent and their ability to seemingly melt right back into the terrain made it difficult for even large armies to completely eradicate them.

  It also didn’t help that they bred like damned horned rabbits, Celia reflected. Trogg offspring grew quickly, and they usually began raiding after just a week after birth. She could only assume Wervins were the same. She felt her nails dig into her palm and she remembered the Dryads’ insinuations about how captives were treated. Celia shuddered at the thought. She would sooner kill herself than let these creatures capture her.

  It was probably a worse fate than the one she herself had feared for so long: being captured by a slave trader to be sold and ritually bound to whomever wanted their very own pet Succubus to play with. Thankfully, her link with Aziel now made that impossible. But what about these poor helpless villagers who had been taken from their own homes? Who was going to save them from that horrible fate?

  “Anything?” Vhal asked as he
came to stand beside her, resting on his staff.

  Celia sighed and stood, putting aside her murderous thoughts. “I don’t think we’ll find them unless we head into the plains themselves. If I’m remembering correctly, there should be a few villages east of here.” Celia didn’t know how the humans would react to herself, Vhal, and the Grauda arriving in their villages to ask questions—but then again, this was Fallen territory now. The inhabitants would have to get used to their presence.

  While her primary objective was to eradicate the Wervins, securing the plains and its inhabitants for her Master and faction was very much a close second, even if her Master hadn’t explicitly ordered it.

  Celia took the first step out of the forest and into the open green plains. Vhal and four hundred well-armed and armored Grauda followed her, the closest settlement in their sights.

  * * *

  It was nightfall before they arrived at the outskirts of the first inhabited human village. Even before setting foot inside, Celia could tell it would not go well.

  They had made good time for most of the journey by using of one of the old Caelian roads. Wide and white-stoned, these roads had connected the former Empire, allowing for faster and safer travel or trade. Even now, they remained the best means of crossing the vast distances by land. If a Caelian road came close to a settlement, so too did prosperity.

  This was what had made the last stretch of road they had travelled so troubling. It was the only Caelian road running through the Central Wilds, connecting the eastern and western halves of the peninsula. It should have been bustling with life.

  Instead, it had been deserted. No peasants, no travelers, no adventurers… Nothing.

  Celia had read the Grauda scouts’ report, which detailed how the surrounding factions had pulled back from the region after her Master’s successful claim, but this…? This was more extreme than she could ever have imagined. If trade overland between the east and west had effectively stopped, it would cause major issues for the Fallen if not addressed, and soon. The Free State of Tijar might have been neutral in most matters, but they didn’t take lightly to disturbances to their routes—especially those as severe as what she was witnessing.

  The lack of foot traffic did have one advantage, however. It allowed Celia, Vhal and a group of what the civilized races considered monsters to hasten their travel unimpeded.

  On their way here, they had passed through two other villages which confirmed Celia’s fears.

  Both showed signs of battle, with patches of dried blood splashed across various surfaces and freshly dug graves. Both were deserted, and the few structures and fields that weren’t burnt to the ground had been thoroughly pillaged.

  In the end, they had to abandon the road and cross back into the plains to reach this village. But now, standing outside it, Celia could see there would be problems.

  She had visited many villages out here, back when she had still been a Lesser Succubus. The people who lived in these parts were mostly peaceful families who made their living working the land or offering shelter to traders and travelers using settlements like theirs as waystations.

  This place was different, however. The periphery had been completely encircled by sharpened wooden stakes, and she could see several men behind them, wielding lit torches and keeping watch.

  A sentry must have spotted her, as the village had grown quite noisy since they had come within view. Celia was fairly sure it was only her they had spotted. Vhal was still somewhere behind her, and while she could sense Grauda around her, she had a hard time seeing them in the dark and through the short grass, even with the benefit of her Dark Vision and the moonlight.

  Several more torches flared up around the village, and she witnessed a few men run to defend the wooden stakes with makeshift spears and other farm equipment. They were clearly preparing for an attack. Celia had to wonder how many times a village like this must have experienced something similar to have mounted such a quick reaction to their presence.

  Even so, no wonder Gorshak’s Horde had been able to expand so quickly; these people were too few. They had been left to fend for themselves, and with what? Only their farm tools.

  She strode forward, ignoring a warning one of the men was shouting at her, but stopped and ducked just in time to avoid being struck by a surprisingly well-aimed arrow. With a scowl, Celia released a cloud of glowing red mist from her hands and quickly formed the symbols to weave a Focused Flame spell. As soon as it was complete, she directed the lance of raging fire at a portion of the stake wall she had not seen anyone protect. The lance streaked across the plain and slammed into the ground just in front of the wall, the resulting explosion drowning out the shouts and chasing away the oppressive darkness, lighting up a significant portion of the village and surrounding area for a few moments before dying down.

  Her display of power had stopped all movement within the village and Celia took advantage of the lull by moving closer, gesturing discreetly to the Grauda to keep their distance. As she got within a few yards of the stake wall, a man with dusty blonde hair—probably just past his teens—rose from behind the barricade.

  “S-Stay back!” he shouted, the fear in his eyes clear as he pointed a worn-out pitchfork at her with trembling hands.

  Celia smiled and waved. “Hello,” she said, cheerily. She pointed at the pitchfork. “Would you mind putting that down? I would hate for things to get unnecessarily violent.”

  The young farmer took a step back, but didn’t flee, which Celia certainly appreciated. More voices emanated from deeper within the village, but Celia couldn’t decipher what was being shouted before two other men appeared from around the corner of a small house and joined the first. They too kept their distance and pointed their makeshift weapons at her. They were breathing heavily, apparently having sprinted hard to reach her.

  Celia ran her fingers through her platinum hair and took a step closer to them, settling her elbow comfortably on one of the wooden stakes. “I am a member of the Fallen,” she said, and the men took a collective step back at the sight of her golden eyes. “And we are here to take care of the Wervin problem. So, either you let me in for a nice, peaceful talk, or I will force myself though and get what I need out of you.”

  The men stole quick glances at one another, concern on their faces. They would run if she took another step closer. Celia’s eyes glowed brighter as she prepared herself to Charm them if things didn’t go her way. In a less tense situation, her passive Succubus abilities would have relaxed them sufficiently, but their fear was overwhelming all their other senses.

  “Stop right there,” an older voice sounded from behind the three men. They separated, allowing a much older man wearing a white heavy gambeson to pass them. Celia could see relief wash over the three men, as if they considered the new arrival as some sort of savior.

  “A demon?” the older man asked in surprise, his hand brushing a wisp of white hair to one side. “We have enough trouble here without your kind lurking around. Leave us be!” he commanded, and Celia felt a shiver run across her skin. He had Inspected her, or at least tried to. She wasn’t worried; only someone exceptionally skilled in Inspection could get through the protection her rank and level provided. The older man’s frown deepened as he realized his failure, and now he too looked nervous. A failed Inspection could only mean one of a few things, and none of them boded well if the target was an enemy.

  Celia smiled brightly. “Are you in charge here?” she asked.

  The older man gripped the hilt of his sword, then nodded. Celia narrowed her eyes when she noticed him stare at her chest, but she felt no lust there; he was simply making a concerted effort to avoid looking directly into her eyes. Celia’s smile became a grin—this man knew she was a Succubus, and knew how her Charm worked. At least, how it had worked when she was still a Lesser Succubus. As an Elder, she no longer needed direct eye contact to apply her Charm.

  “Good,” she said. “I need information on where the Wervins are.”
>
  The older man took a moment to respond, his suspicion plain. “Why?”

  “My Master, the Faction Leader of the Fallen and lord of these lands, has ordered them dead. I am here to see it done.”

  The man’s eyes grew wide at the mention of the Fallen, and for a moment, he forgot himself, looking Celia directly in the eye. Then he released his grip on the hilt of his sword. The other three glanced at one another nervously, but still kept their makeshift weapons at the ready.

  “The Fallen’s Faction Leader is a warlock, then? Are you bound, Succubus?” the older man asked as he glimpsed her horns and tail.

  Celia shrugged mildly. “I suppose.” There was no reason to go into the details with this stranger.

  “His name… Azriel, was it? There are some horrific rumors going around about him,” the older man continued.

  “Aziel,” Celia corrected, then raised an eyebrow. “What sort of rumors?”

  The older man shook his head. “The usual. That he drinks the blood of newborns and breaths fire… such nonsense.”

  Celia smiled coyly. “Well, I can assure you, my Master does not drink the blood of babes. Though he probably could breathe fire… with the right spell.”

  The man chuckled before quickly stopping himself. He raised a hand in greeting. “Issac. I am the acting mayor of Git—at least, what’s left of it,” he replied.

  “Celia,” said Celia warmly. “Acting mayor? Where is the real mayor?”

  Issac sighed deeply. “Taken. Along with many others. I was the most martially trained, and that was enough for the folks here to name me mayor.”

  “For a human, you seem quite comfortable speaking to a demon.”

  “Ha!” the man exclaimed dismissively. “I’ve seen a lot during my long years, Succubus. I was hoping to find a quiet place to settle down with my family, but alas… It seems trouble finds me wherever I go. Quiet was never part of my path, I suppose.”