“What?” Valery said aloud as she felt the tattoos all over her body liquefy—it was as if she had been dipped in cold slime. She would have shivered in disgust if she still had any control over her actions.
The first finger of light reached her—but instead of vaporizing her, a wave of blood flowed up and solidified to block it before splashing back to the ground. It happened again and again, until Valery stood directly in front of Bhaar. The golem of light looked at her as if she was an insect. His bright yellow eyes shone as he raised one of his massive legs with the intent to stomp her.
Valery felt her blood boil… and suddenly the world stopped as she took slow easy steps around the golem. It was a strange scene, at least until she recognized what it represented. Valery’s perceptions and speed were so fast that Bhaar, an Ascended, was barely moving in comparison.
You like? the voice sounded in her head as she was filled with an intense feeling of satisfaction. This is only the tip of the power I bestow upon you, my host. Together, we will bring this realm to its knees.
Valery’s hand rose, and she slashed her own wrist open. Before she could panic, the blood which poured out of her began to hover and move around her. She stopped moving, and the massive foot of Bhaar smashed into the ground where she had just been, but Valery was now behind him. The Golem glanced around, no doubt noticing that he had not actually stepped on something.
“Behind you,” Valery said, though it wasn’t her speaking the words, but the pendant—which now had full control of her body.
Bhaar twisted around, his rectangular head tilting slightly before he raised a hand to swat her. He was so slow; it was painful to watch. Behind him, Valery could see the other vampires struggle to dodge the spell the golem had unleashed upon them. One vampire was vaporized the moment a finger of light touched him, while another tried to block the light with a piece of furniture, only to be thrown back and slammed against the wall.
“How boring,” pendant-Valery said, and as she raised a hand to the air, the blood—her blood—which hovered in the air around them rushed to her, forming a long, curved blade that she quickly gripped. Using her immense advantage of speed, she slashed at the golem, the red blade cutting through its rocky body as if it was made of straw. She took laps around him, cutting as she moved—she was able to circle him five times before the effects of the first strike began to register.
Valery jumped and spun, the blood blade whistling as it slashed into the golem’s head. She landed in a crouch, a wide grin on her face as her voice said, “Blood Waltz.”
Bhaar stood there for a moment, one arm still extended to swat at her. But then the glow in his yellow eyes went out, and his entire body trembled before crumbling into pieces.
An Ascended had been turned into a heap of component parts in a blink of an eye.
Valery was stunned. She had been a witness, a passenger in her own body, as these events took place. She could not believe how easily—how quickly—one of the greatest and most powerful forms of life had been destroyed. Not just destroyed: annihilated.
Come, we have much to do, the voice inside said. At the same time, she realized she could move more freely now.
“Wai—” she began aloud. I mean, wait, she thought this time. What… who are you?
The voice laughed. I am Erethis. Left hand of the Nexus Sovereign. Let us go now, we have a faction to destroy.
Faction? Valery thought. The people outside? Why? Wouldn’t that help Nevani?
It matters not to me what Nevani gains or loses. You need to learn how to utilize my power; taking control of your body is tiresome. Also, it would send a message to the Seed.
And my brother? Nevani asked. She did not particularly care about this thing’s objective; hers was to reunite with Vhal’nuel.
Don’t worry, we will meet your brother. It is likely we will not even need to go looking for him—sooner or later, he will come to us. For now, let us focus on your education. As I said, you have much to learn.
Valery stood, the blood blade dissolving into nothing as she did. She noticed her self-inflicted wound was also gone, a healing rate which made her previously impressive vampire regeneration look pathetic. She turned and had taken a single step toward the doorway when she heard a voice call from behind her.
“Erethis!” Nevani screamed. “You owe me my Empire!” Although Nevani’s voice was full of rage, her eyes kept flicking fearfully to the pile of rocks which had once been an Ascended.
“Are you sure you want to use that tone to address the person who intends to break this faction?” Erethis asked through Valery’s mouth.
“What?” Nevani said, a confused look crossing her face.
“We have decided to help return your capital to you. In exchange, you and your guard will stay here. Do not interfere in our training.”
The Empress seemed at a loss for words.
Valery glanced down at the pile of rocks which was once Bhaar. There are more Ascended coming, Erethis’s voice spoke in Valery’s mind. It will take them time to arrive from their places of power. Until then, learn the use of my power, for controlling you drains me of my strength.
She glanced at the Empress and her guards, who were still picking themselves up after Bhaar’s spell. She thought about killing Nevani there and then, but decided to obey Erethis’s instruction for now.
Valery may have not had any reason to harm those on the outside, but she would do so if it meant meeting her brother again. As for Nevani, yes—she might gain from the destruction of this faction, but watching her former slave walk out of the palace without being able to stop it was probably the worst thing Valery could do to the Empress, and she would savor that.
Chapter 23
“Come on, push, you lazy donkeys!” Issac shouted as he directed the men struggling behind yet another stuck cart. “You drove into the mud, now get yourselves out!”
Celia groaned in frustration as she sat with her back against a tree.
“You know,” Melody said from above, seeming right at home atop the trees, “you could really use some roads.”
That was an understatement. With the heavy rains they had been experiencing, the ground was still soft. It was a gauntlet to pass through with all these carts, so laden down with people and their belongings.
Only the Tijarii convoy had no trouble. At first glance, one might have thought the opposite: their carts and carriages were larger and made of heavier materials. Celia counted two which were actually constructed of metal. It was a miracle the horses were able to pull them on solid ground, never mind through this quagmire. And yet they rolled smoothly atop the soft soil, as if weighing nothing.
It took little in the way of investigation on her part to find the enchanted symbols etched into their undercarriages, along with the discreet air crystals which powered them. They were literally being magically pushed off the ground as they rolled forward.
But where the others had trouble with the soil, the Tijarii had problems navigating between the trees. Their vehicles were wide enough to limit the paths available to them. Even so, they were making steady progress.
Celia had made sure to send a few Grauda ahead to ensure that no one from the Fallen thought they were under attack, and so far, the message appeared to have been received. Though they were close to the Rosa Grove, no Dryads had yet made an appearance.
A dark-skinned man wearing layers over layers of colorful silk dallied between the trees close to the Tijarii convoy. When he noticed Celia, he smiled and approached her, offering a slight bow before speaking.
“Lady Celia.”
“Master Grendel, how rare it is to see you walking about,” she replied with a sly smile. “This would be only the second time you have left the comfort of your carriage.”
Grendel laughed. “Nature walks were never my strong suit. And yet, I wish to experience the virgin beauty of this place, splendid that it truly is.”
Melody dropped from a high branch, landing in a crouch beside them. “
Melody,” Grendel greeted her, linking his hands behind his puffed silk and cotton breeches. “Enjoying your freedom?”
“I am!” Melody said excitedly.
“How precious she is,” Grendel replied, patting her head. To Celia, he added, “I’ve always wanted my own Myra, but I abhor the practice of owning another.”
“Myra?” Celia asked as Melody sprinted up another tree.
“Yes, Melody is of the Myra line of Beastkin. One of the first line to be domesticated.”
“Domesticated. You make her sound like one of those cats people use to get rid of rodents on farms.”
Grendel looked up, his dark brown eyes scanning the trees for a glimpse of Melody. “You’re not entirely wrong,” he said before giving up on locating the agile Beastkin and focusing fully on Celia. “Myra were one of the first of the Beastkin lines to face enslavement and captive training. Mostly by the Caelians, but other factions at the time did the same. Myra were taken when they were young and trained until the behavior and mannerisms began to suit what people had purchased them for.”
Celia felt like she would be sick. How did people find doing such a thing to an entire race reasonable? “And what was it they purchased them for?”
“Pets,” Grendel said with a sad smile. “Myra were sought after by well-off noble families as companions for their children, since Myra tended to grow attached and were very caring and protective of young ones. Female clients in particular liked them. They are so very rare now, unfortunately.”
Well, that explained why Melody had grown attached to Celia so quickly when she was Shapeshifted as young Miley during her infiltration of Whiteridge. In fact, Grendel’s account was a good description of Melody overall—if you left out the skilled marksmen part, that was. The Beastkin might act soft when with Celia, but she knew how deadly Melody could be with a bow.
The whole story still left a bad taste in Celia’s mouth. “Why are they rare now?”
Grendel crossed his arms, his hands disappearing under the mountains of fabric. “Sadly, the demand for them grew so great, their breeders grew greedy and reckless. They were selling more of the population than they could safely replenish. Add that to the fact that their new owners tended to sterilize them, and you have a recipe for a population disaster.”
Celia wondered how much of this history Melody actually knew. Celia raised an eyebrow as something occurred to her. “But if Myra are so rare, and I assume valuable, how were Melody and her family able to trade without getting picked up by slavers?”
Grendel smiled. “It is illegal to enslave a Myra in Tijar, Jannatin, Archigal and Odana. For Odana to outlaw it shows how bad the situation with the Myra had become. Though I’m sure they would allow it again, if the population normalized.”
Celia blinked, unable to fully grasp what Grendel was saying. A group of factions had come together and decided an entire race was no longer allowed to be enslaved? How many times had that happened? But then a mental image of Melody and the metal band around her neck—the one her Master broke—came to mind. “Melody was a slave, though,” she pointed out.
“Indeed, she was, a debt slave,” Grendel replied as he looked over at Issac, who continued to move down the line of carts to help free them from the particular mire they currently found themselves in. “Debt slaves are a form of legal punishment. Unlike the more commercial part of the slave trade, debt slaves have a path to freedom, which is to pay back their debt. Usually by working for lower-than-normal pay in all kinds of jobs. Melody was doing quite well with her contracts as an adventurer for hire, but her debts were substantial enough that she may never have paid them off.”
That sounded harsh, especially since Melody was actually paying off her father’s debt, not her own. “So, when do you get together to outlaw the enslavement of Succubi?” Celia asked with a strained smile.
Grendel laughed. “Unfortunately for the Succubi, even though they are a rare acquisition, demand for them is exceedingly high. High enough for slavers to take extraordinary risks and brave the Blightlands and Greater Wilds in the hopes of catching one. I even heard of enterprises trying to create Succubi for sale in Odana.”
“What?” Celia said, unable to hide her shock. “How could someone create a Succubus? The transformations are arbitrary, aren’t they?”
“In the most general sense, demonic transformations are very much arbitrary, but there are certain traits which raise the chances of certain transformations occurring. Being a young female, for instance. If my memory serves me, the idea was to expose such persons to enough demonic mana to trigger a transformation, and hope for a Succubus to train and sell.” Grendel shrugged. “I have not been able to physically tour this relatively new business model, nor do any of the great Tijarii companies have any stake in it, to my knowledge. But there is no doubt that there has been a significant uptick in Succubi available on the market.”
Celia held back a growl. She remembered all the hardships she’d had to endure after her own transformation. These girls would have an even worse experience. Not only would they be turned into a demon, they would immediately be bound to someone and trained as a sex slave.
Shaking her head, Celia got to her feet. She didn’t want to think about it anymore, at least not now, while there was nothing she could do about it. Also, she had noticed Issac finally free the last of the carts. Soon, the convoy would be on the move.
“I hope we can speak again,” Grendel said before bowing his head and turning to make his way back to his carriage. Celia watched him go. In many ways, she found the man difficult to deal with. Though he said he didn’t partake in the practice of slavery personally, Celia could tell that most of the drivers and workers he had brought with him to manage the carriages were indeed slaves. Only the guards, along with a few other men who wore the same type of garments as he did, were not enslaved. Those people were technically the company’s slaves, not his, but he still wore the bracelet which controlled them, so Celia did not see a difference.
Grendel also spoke of slavery as if it was a normal commercial transaction, which was infuriating to listen to.
Swallowing her objections to the man, Celia looked up. “Melody!” she called. “We’re moving.”
The leaves above ruffled, and then Melody landed beside Celia. “I really missed being able to run around as I please,” she said, inching closer to Celia, her tail wagging slightly.
Celia laughed lightly at that as she reached out to scratch the back of one of Melody’s ears. “Come, we’re not far now.”
Melody shivered at the sensation of Celia’s attentions before following her back into the convoy. Soul’s Rest was just beyond the horizon, and a small smile formed on Celia’s face as she thought about meeting her Master again. It had truly been too long.
* * *
Celia stopped in her tracks the moment the caravan rolled out of the forest and into an impossibly large clearing. Entire swathes of the forest had simply disappeared.
In their place were hundreds of buildings in various states of completion—some were no more than foundations, whilst others were much further along in their construction. The way they had been arranged allowed Celia to ascertain where the main roads and alleyways of the city had been planned. From the deep trenches she could see running along the main thoroughfares, they had also begun digging the underground sewers her Master had insisted on.
One building, however, built a small distance away and atop an artificial hill was in a class of its own. It was positioned and lined up perfectly to face the entrance of Soul’s Rest. It towered over the other buildings and was almost complete. Although Celia couldn’t make out all the details from this distance, she could see the structure had a stairway leading up to a rectangular entrance, which in turn connected to a large domed atrium.
The wooden frame was in the process of being covered by that same muddy substance the Grauda covered everything in. And just like within Soul’s Rest, the Grauda ensured the plastered walls were as flat an
d smooth as possible before allowing the mud to harden.
Remembering the plans for the city, and the rather large open square left in front of it, there was only one building it could possibly be.
The Conclave. That was what Master had called it.
Aziel had been adamant that the Conclave should be the center-point of the city, not Soul’s Rest. In many ways, her Master wanted two layers of government. The first was in line with how factions were normally structured. A Faction Leader and their appointees forming the major institutions: the ministries and military, the people who would implement whatever was needed and run the everyday business of the faction.
The Conclave, on the other hand, was where the main governing body would meet and provide the overall direction for those ministries and the military to work toward. It would have only one representative from each race formally accepted into the Fallen. It had the power to draft, pass, or strike down any law before sending their agreed proposals along to her Master for his final approval or rejection. She knew her Master had once again tried to pass on this part, but Astrel had been adamant about keeping him as the final decision maker.
The main role of the Council of Races was to give each race, regardless of numbers, the same say in how the faction was governed. Due to a one-race-one-vote rule, her Master hoped to force the races to support one another, and compromise for the greater good.
Celia smiled as her hands rested on her hips. She knew she had been gone for some time, but the progress was astounding, especially when she shifted her gaze to the other massive structure ahead.
A high wooden wall now formed a semi-circle around the mountain which housed Soul’s Rest, made of what appeared to be full-length trees. The wall was five trees deep, allowing space for someone to run along the top of it with ease. The trees themselves had simply been cut down, shaved of their branches, and buried just deep enough in the ground to stand straight. Then they had been bound to the adjacent trees with some sort of dried vine to provide stability.
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