“Astrel,” he managed to say as she quickened her movements, her scythe arms extending upwards and stopping just as they were about to impale the roof. He looked at her gorgeous face, her eyelids fluttering, her gaze full of hunger. “My king, I… I love you,” she said between increasingly desperate cries, her legs flexing as she pumped against him. Her lips parted once more, and Aziel seized the moment to pull her into a passionate kiss. She whimpered into it, surrendering herself to him as their bodies continued to grind into one another.
Aziel pulled back, his teeth gently tugging on her lower lip. Then he released her and smiled at Astrel’s lustful gaze, the tip of her tongue flicking out between her lips to travel along their entire length. Her movements astride him never stopped, instead becoming more frantic, her moans louder as they both reached their climax. Aziel growled, his arms wrapping around her to hold her tightly against him as she shivered within his grasp. Then he let out a long, satisfied breath as she laid her head against his shoulder, exhausted.
They stayed like that for some time, the only sounds their soft breaths and the rain falling upon their shelter’s roof. Aziel loosened his grip, his hands slowly moving down her back to her hips, feeling her heightened body temperature as he did. “You know,” he whispered, causing Astrel to stiffen, “you only say that when we are coupling.” He planted a light kiss on her neck, then her shoulder. “I’m beginning to think you only feel that way in the heat of the moment.”
Astrel pulled back, her eyes wide, her hands gripping his shoulders. “My king! I—I—”
“Relax,” he said quickly, with a reassuring chuckle. “It was only in jest.” Then he leaned closer and planted another kiss on her lips. Astrel responded hungrily, her arms quickly wrapping around his neck to pull him into her again, but Aziel drew back and watched her as she turned a deeper shade of brown, her eyes glued to the ground as an intensifying heat radiated out of her.
Aziel did not know why she became so hot when they coupled. Not uncomfortably so, but much more than Celia. Another aspect of Grauda biology he did not understand, he supposed. Not yet, in any case.
The idea of love was one he did not fully understand either. It was something Celia had tried to explain to him, on both a theoretical and emotional level. The more she did, the more it seemed to him that he was indeed in love—and with both of them.
He would do everything in his power to ensure they were both safe and happy, to ensure they would get what they need and want, and to keep them by his side. This was not something he readily admitted out loud, but he hoped his actions spoke of his desires on their own.
With a soft sigh, Aziel separated himself from the Grauda queen. “Come,” he said as he offered her a hand, “let us clean ourselves in the rain before we continue on.”
Astrel accepted his help, and together they crawled out of their shelter. Aziel looked up, the warm rains washing over him as he gazed at the gray skies showing through the green canopy. He cupped his hands, allowing the increasingly heavy rains to gather there before taking a small sip.
This was his first experience of this strange phenomena called rain, and it was a downpour. He understood on an intellectual level the cycles and forces at work to make such a thing possible, but the scale made it seem more magical than any spell he knew of so far.
The deluge had been sudden: one moment they were setting up camp, and the next, heavy dark clouds had rolled over the forest. This was apparently quite normal, as Astrel did not even comment on it. Instead, she decided to make good use of their time together, and Aziel had not for a moment thought about interrupting her with questions. The edges of his lips curved upward as he remembered how nervous the queen had been as she tried to initiate their coupling. Even though Astrel had grown more confident of late, she still had her moments of shyness.
The other Grauda watched as they washed themselves as best they could before donning their clothes once more. Of the six hundred or so Grauda they had left with from Soul’s Rest, only one division remained with them.
After his conquering of the Arachne, Aziel had conducted a lengthy discussion with Queen Trikk about her future responsibilities and the construction plans the Grauda had for the area around the river. These included bridges, along with a much larger project to divert a significant portion of the river’s flow closer to the foundations for the settlement being prepared outside Soul’s Rest. They were also tasked with looking for a suitable place to dam the river, or one of its smaller subsidiaries, to form a reservoir without damaging the surroundings more than necessary. If there was one thing Aziel had learned from his extensive reading on planned cities, the availability of a close source of clean water was of the highest priority.
Trikk had decided to stay in the Webbed Woods to consolidate her much-diminished race and focus on her full evolution into queen. Aziel had no qualms about that; he simply asked her to visit Soul’s Rest as soon as possible. Afterwards, he and Astrel had begun their journey back home when a thought struck him: they weren’t far from Whiteridge. He had decided to visit the location of his nightmares.
When the rain eased, it didn’t take long for the whole division to begin moving again. Aziel passed between the trees, his boots squelching in the wet soil, heavy clinks sounding from his shoulder pads and gauntlets as raindrops struck the metal.
“It should be just a little more to the east,” Astrel said from beside him. Aziel glanced at her and paused. Her wet clothes clung to her in a way that left little to the imagination. Noticing his lingering gaze, Astrel crossed her arms shyly across her chest. Aziel shook himself, smiling, and turned his attention to where she had pointed.
The Wilds came even more to life in the rain. Purple and blue flowers sprouted from the forest floor and wound up many trunks, while tall grasses which normally melded with their surroundings began to glow a bright green. It was beautiful, a kind of natural beauty he would never have imagined or believed in if he had not witnessed it for himself.
Aziel closed his eyes and focused on his Nature Sense. Unlike Soul’s Rest, where there was a distinct lack of life, the forests of the Wilds were pulsing with it. This actually made it difficult to pinpoint specific beings, as he had discovered during his encounter with the Arachne. It had taken him some time to filter out each one of them up in the treetops, but in time he had succeeded.
But there was one significant exception to the pervasive life energy he sensed around him: a circular desert surrounded by the forest. It lay in the direction Astrel had just pointed to.
Whiteridge, or what was left of it.
It was just beyond the dense foliage ahead. Aziel pulled aside the branches before pushing his way through to the other side. Then, he blinked, taking it all in.
This was the first time he had seen the true aftermath of his spell. The tampering of the World Seed had brought him to the brink of death before the dust had even settled, and Celia had rushed him to Soul’s Rest to save his life.
What lay beyond was a wasteland. The once-green fields were covered in a thick layer of gray-black ash. The town of Whiteridge was gone. Other than the ruined stone fort looking down on them from the ridge, only a few charred wooden beams remained standing. Even from here, he could see that the ground where the town once lay was pocked with craters—hundreds if not thousands of them.
Being here again also demonstrated just how drastically the drain on his mana had lessened. He could barely feel it now. The last time he had been this far from his place of power, it was all-consuming. Now, with Niyela’s sizable contribution and what he hoped to eventually receive from the Sister Groves, he wondered how far he could go—and if it was enough to counter the drain altogether.
If so, he would be able to travel outside the Wilds.
Aziel knelt and pushed a hand down into the wet soil. It was utterly lifeless and sticky, the ash turning it into a mire in the rain. He felt a hand slide across his shoulders before gently squeezing.
“My king,” Astrel murmured
, “this was war. These people were soldiers ready to fight and kill. If you hadn’t done this, they would have come for us.”
Aziel placed his unmuddied hand upon hers. “I know. And yet I can’t help but think there might have been another way. A way to send the message without killing so many. They had no hope of resisting what I unleashed upon them.” He stood, his hand still holding hers. “Look at it: a scar upon the land, a reminder of their death. A reminder of my actions for all to see.” He shook his head. “This was no battle in some war. This was an execution, and I the executioner.”
They stepped out across the field, their Grauda escort following. With no trees or plant roots to hold the soil together, the mud was deep and mired. Their feet sunk into it and it didn’t want to let go, making each step a struggle. The rain had another grisly effect. As they reached where the town’s walls would have stood, it had unearthed the bones. They were everywhere. Charred and shattered.
He could feel Astrel’s gaze on him, her hand squeezing his. She hadn’t wanted to come here. As he had suspected, she knew of his nightmares and she did not believe anything good could come of his presence at Whiteridge.
“Do you think they might want their bones? Their families back in Maiv?” he asked, looking down at a half skull on the ground. Astrel didn’t respond; she did not need to. Shaking his head, Aziel continued on toward the fort, noticing as he did that the quantity of bones lessened as they went. By the time they reached what would have been the center of Whiteridge, the bones had disappeared altogether.
The ground here was also very different than its surroundings. It was hardened, almost as if it had once been molten. It made walking much easier, but it also made him realize a disturbing truth. The center of Whiteridge, where the spell had struck at its most intense, had grown so hot, the earth had fused, and not even the bones had survived.
There was another concerning discovery too: necrotic mana. It hung in the air here, and although the quantities were small, it was enough for him to notice.
“My king,” Astrel said, and Aziel followed her finger. She was pointing at a strange length of wood sticking out of the ground. It was at least two feet tall and wide enough that he could not wrap one hand fully around it. The object had markings and drawings all across its surface in what he presumed were vibrant colors, but looked drab and dark in this weather. It had been plunged forcibly into the ground, but that was not what interested Aziel.
Just like some of the more heavily enchanted items and weapons he had seen in the armory at Soul’s Rest, this wooden beam had a vessel. It was small, but there.
Aziel studied the markings. He couldn’t make sense of them, but he didn’t have to; it was easy to guess at their purpose. The area around the stick was completely absent of necrotic mana. The symbols were somehow clearing it. Aziel focused his will and activated his All-Seeing Eye.
You have successfully Analyzed your target.
You have successfully Detected the magic within your target.
* * *
Vital Root Cleansing Totem
Type: Consumable
Quality: Common
Mana: 22/30
* * *
Passive Enchantments:
Cleaning Aura: Neutralizes the effects of necrotic mana within its immediate surroundings.
* * *
Active Ritual:
Cleansing: When used and arranged with other cleansing totems, a large area may be diffused of its necrotic presence. Depending on the severity of the cleansing, the ritual might consume the totems.
* * *
Active Ritual? Aziel licked his lower lip as the runes began to fade. He remembered Vhal’s promise to teach him of rituals, but they had not yet found the time.
“My king?” Astrel asked.
“Yes, Astrel. What is it?”
“There are more.”
Aziel looked up. “More?” he asked. The Grauda had spread out to scout the area, leaving only the female who led this division. “Show me,” he said.
The rain had begun to die down, but before they could reach the next totem, a booming, almost feral roar came from afar. They all turned at once—the sound had come from the ruins of the fort, high up on the ridge. Astrel’s antennae twitched, and her expression hardened.
“Astrel!” Aziel yelled as the Grauda queen sprinted in the fort’s direction, her spear and shield held close. He clicked his tongue and ordered the Grauda female to gather her division before dashing after Astrel.
Unlike the Grauda queen, who wore minimal clothing and was light on her feet, Aziel’s heavy armor slowed him down. He could barely keep up with her in these conditions, and the mud was beginning to harden and layer around his feet, making the already heavy sabatons he wore that much more unwieldy.
As they drew closer to the fort, a heavy crash mixed with Grauda hisses came from the top of the ridge, before another deafening roar drowned everything out. Aziel tapped into his Nature Sense now that the fort was within range.
Other than the two Grauda, there were four other figures in and around the fort, each with life signs which made the Grauda’s look tiny in compassion. The two Grauda were struggling with one of the figures by the gate, while the remaining three were congregated together somewhere at the top of the ruined fort, with what seemed complete disinterest in the events happening just below them.
Ahead of him, Astrel didn’t pause. She began running up the rocky and mostly ruined stairs leading to the top of the ridge, leaping two or sometimes three steps with every bound.
Aziel followed after her, taking a moment to kick a step to dislodge the buildup of mud on his feet. He glanced over his shoulder to see the rest of the Grauda division gathering and beginning to close in. “Astrel!” he called again. She paused, turning just in time to witness a Grauda male be unceremoniously tossed toward them from atop the ridge, his body smashing against the rocks and stairs before sliding to a stop between them.
Astrel’s eyes widened at the sight of his broken body, and her jaw clenched before she started for the top in even greater haste. Aziel chased after her again.
Reaching the top, he readied himself for the fight to come. His sword sung as he pulled it out of its sheath, rain droplets speckling the smooth metal, then he got his first look at who this new enemy was.
There it stood, a creature of massive size and girth. It was bipedal, and easily twelve feet tall. Two pointed blue horns protruded from a bush of thick white hair, which stood out against its uniformly blue skin. It huffed and growled as it held a massive rounded club in both hands, its blue eyes flicking between Aziel, Astrel, and the last Grauda male behind him.
Given its massive frame, Aziel wasn’t surprised to note the creature’s bulging muscles, which the thick leathers and gray-and-white furs it wore did nothing to conceal. Its arms and legs were thick as tree trunks, and Aziel had no doubt it could easily squash any one of them into a smear of red viscera.
More importantly, Aziel realized something: he had seen this race before. It was the same creature he had seen in the vision, speaking to that mysterious voice.
Astrel stepped closer, her enchanted spear held in front of her as she took quick careful jabs at the creature. She was trying to reach the remaining Grauda male, but he was too injured. He hobbled and fell as he tried his hardest to get back to his queen.
Aziel narrowed his eyes as a familiar tingling sensation formed within his head. He winced as it quickly changed into a brutal hammering. He knew this feeling—it was the same pain he had suffered through when he had first met Astrel, right before he had claimed back the first of his memories.
He gripped his head in an attempt to fight through the pain. Noticing his distress, Astrel looked back at him in concern, and the enormous creature took full advantage of her distraction. It roared and charged. Astrel rolled, narrowly avoiding an over-head swing. The club crashed against the rocky ground where she had stood, shattering on impact and leaving a sizable crater as a testament to it
s power.
This was not the time for memories, Aziel told himself. Astrel was in danger. Even though he already suspected what this creature was, he willed his All-Seeing Eye into existence, and gray runes manifested before him.
You have successfully Inspected your target.
You have successfully Detected the magic within your target.
* * *
Name: Jar
Race: Ogre’i
Rank: Lesser Enlightened
Mana: 150/150
Level: 19
* * *
Attributes:
Strength: 16
Reflex: 8
Mind: 3
Vessel: 3
* * *
Skills:
Thick Hide (Level 4)
Regeneration (Level 3)
Second Wind (level 2)
Crushing Blow (Level 3)
Heavy Bludgeoning (Level 3)
* * *
Traits:
Berserker’s Blood
* * *
The throbbing headache intensified as he read through the log, his vision blurring.
It seemed he had just found the Ogre’i. Whatever else they could do, it was clear this race had massive quantities of muscle and strength.
Their assailant threw its broken weapon away and glared directly at Aziel, its hatred clear. Apparently, it did not appreciate being Inspected. Aziel raised his blade—and at that moment, a flurry of arrows zipped overhead and plunged into the Ogre’i.
Reinforcements had arrived.
The Ogre’i took a few steps back, more in surprise than pain or caution. Most of the arrows had hit their mark—not difficult with a target so large. They had absolutely no effect, however. None pierced the creature’s skin; they simply bounced off him like pebbles.
Fallen Ambitions Page 29