Vaid Empire: Conquest
Chapter 4
26th of Twic, 5 BVE.
Lower Human Basin, Near Zilrin.
“It’s just as our maps predicted, Chief Dominax,” Hesin announced as he reached the center of the camp. “The ground is far too flat and open to proceed without being spotted. Yet if we approach from the south, we may be able to use the surrounding forest to remain hidden.”
“Very well, we shall send a small group to create a distraction at their northern gate,” Dominax replied as his misgivings were confirmed. The holographic globe had been more than helpful during their journey to the outskirts of Zilrin, allowing the group of nearly four thousand Omrinian warriors to delve into the heart of Zilrin territory without being detected by the smaller settlements under Chief Manith’s rule. “During which, the rest of our forces will remain hidden in the tree line outside of the southern gate. If executed properly the distraction will lure the guards to the other side of Zilrin, allowing a select few to sneak over the southern wall and open the gate for the rest of us,” Dominax continued.
“I will gladly lead the distraction, my Chief,” Clin stated as he placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“No, Hesin is far more suited for the task. I require both you and Salduin at my side for tonight’s attack,” Dominax commanded. “We shall take the majority of the settlement before they’re even aware of what’s occurred.”
“Tonight? But your men have yet to even arrive!” Fildir exclaimed in a mix of surprise and frustration. Roughly three years younger than Dominax, Korvis’s son had been nothing short of insubordinate during their short time together. Though the small army of warriors had been placed under Dominax’s command, Fildir’s interference seemingly never ceased.
“We can wait no longer. Every moment spent in these woods risks our discovery. If we are to succeed in our goal, we must proceed without them,” Dominax firmly answered, all while knowing that his own warriors were never meant to rendezvous with them. If all went well, Briza and Xenia would take Omrin completely by surprise any day now.
“That is unacceptable!” Fildir fired back, folding his arms across his narrow chest. Though Korvis had been quite formidable in his prime, it appeared that his son didn’t inherit his imposing form. Thin and wiry, the younger man only possessed a small hint of muscle under his greenish tunic. Yet even with their large differences, hints of his father’s facial features revealed his heritage, topped with the same long brown hair of Korvis. “Our deal requires your men to assist in the coming fight. We will wait for them to arrive or return to Omrin!”
Dominax placed his strong hand on the younger man’s shoulder, a gesture meant to intimidate rather than comfort. “OUR deal is between your father and I, not you. If you wish to return, you’ll do so alone.”
Fildir held his gaze for several seconds before turning his head away. “My father won’t like this.”
“Perhaps, though that’s not your concern,” Dominax stated sternly as he removed his hand. Looking past Fildir he caught many nearby warriors eying the confrontation, doing little to conceal their amusement. It had been clear to him after only a short period of time among the men that nearly none of them regarded Fildir with respect. Their loyalty had been earned only through obligation, a relationship that likely extended to Korvis as well. “Now go, you are dismissed. Assist the men in preparing for tonight’s battle.”
Opening his mouth to argue, Fildir stopped himself before reluctantly turning to leave.
“You two are dismissed as well,” he commanded, addressing both Clin and Salduin. “Yet I must discuss the details of the distraction with Hesin.”
The two warriors granted their Chief a respectful bow of their heads before departing the camp’s center.
“Fildir will accompany your group to the north gate,” Dominax explained in a carefully hushed tone, preventing the nearby men from eavesdropping as they went about their business. “He must not return from the battle.”
Only a moment passed before an expression of understanding overtook Hesin’s hooded face. “Is that wise? Chief Korvis won’t be pleased to learn that his son perished. The boy’s behavior could be punished in other ways that don’t go as far as death.”
In response, Dominax waved his hand dismissively. “Punishment is not my desire. Though he is a nuisance to be sure, his death is merely a necessity. There are events in motion beyond what you are aware of, yet in any case Korvis won’t be a concern much longer.”
Raising his eyebrow in a questioning gesture Hesin leaned in closer. “Events? Chief Dominax…I’d be far more useful if I were included in your aims.”
“Ah but you are, my friend. Follow my orders and you shall be rewarded with my trust. Understand?” Dominax asked with an insidious smile.
After a moment of consideration Hesin’s eyes narrowed. “Yes, my Chief, it will be done. The boy will be dealt with.”
***
The torchlight flickered lightly on Lalian‘s illustrations as his mind worked, desperately attempting to concentrate despite the fluttering gasps of the nearby slave atop Chief Manith’s lap. Seated at a small table to the right of the crude throne, Lalian was forced to endure the presence of his winged master’s shameless lust as Manith rammed his green Lanthian manhood into the human woman’s bare vagina.
A Lanthian himself, Lalian had been dragged along when Manith fled their homeland. Typical of their species, his skin was divided down the middle of his body into two separate shades of green, easily allowing him to blend into the gargantuan trees of his birthplace. His short hair and keen eyes were similarly separated into both dark and light green shades. Yet in contrast to his master’s large build, he possessed very little muscle, while standing three inches shorter than Manith’s six-foot-tall frame.
Though his hand steadily traced along the thin wooden slab cut in the tradition of his people, he couldn’t stop his gaze from occasionally wandering towards the four alluring slaves seated at the base of the throne resting on thin cushions of various dull colors. Kept completely nude, two of the three women displayed small round bellies as their pregnancies advanced. Despite his…’condition’, he felt his own manhood move ever so slightly under his shabby loincloth.
Taking notice of his concealed glances, the nearest slave gracefully stood up and closed the small distance between them, placing her hand gently on his bare shoulder. The touch forced a subtle shutter through him, though she made no comment of it. “How fares your progress, Lalian?”
“Quite well, miss,” he replied, retaining his attention on his work even as he attempted to ignore the soft sensation of her hand. Though his master had utilized Lalian’s advanced intelligence numerous times in the past, his focus had now shifted to designing new walls that could replace Zilrin’s nearly crumbling defenses.
“Leave him alone,” Chief Manith commanded as the slave in his lap placed her hands on her own breasts, steadily riding his shaft with visible enthusiasm. “He must…remain undisturbed.”
Granting their master a submissive nod, the woman removed her hand from Lalian’s shoulder. “My apologies,” she obediently replied before granting Lalian a sympathetic look. Leaning only a miniscule amount closer, she spoke in a whisper intended only for his ears. “And to you I’m sorry as well…as this can’t be easy for you…” she let out as her eyes gestured to his loincloth, and then towards the lude display of female bodies before she returned to sitting position.
A deep green came to his cheeks as embarrassment flooded his entire being. Though her words held kind intentions, they only recalled the memory of what he had lost.
It was no secret among the five slave women of what had occurred. While most outsiders remained blissfully ignorant of The Lanthian Empire’s cruel traditions, they had been regaled with the details of the life that their master had bravely, albeit narrowly, escaped. Though a male Lanthian ruled over each city, the females almost exclusively enjoyed freedom inside of their matriarchal society. Kept enslaved and chaste, the males suffered continuously under their control. Yet every year, those who had only just reached manhood would be pitted against each other in non-lethal combat until only one victor remained.
From Lalian’s frame it wasn’t hard to reach the factual conclusion that he had lost early on, though all males knew the consequences for those who lost. While the victor would be granted the opportunity of challenging the ruling male, the defeated were ceremonially stripped of their wings, along with their testicles. Wishing only to breed with the most capable males the act of procreation was reserved exclusively for their local ruler, a fate that Lalian had been cruelly denied.
To gaze upon five beautiful slaves and know that he would never be capable of siring children with them had nearly become torture, a feeling that vastly deepened when two had fallen pregnant by a Lanthian that had escaped their sadistic traditions. Yet while a human may lose their arousal after such a heartless castration, Lalian’s species held no such luxury. Though his fertility had been entirely cut away, the desire to utilize his non-functioning manhood remained strong.
Chief Manith groaned deeply as he wrapped his large arms around his current lover, holding her firmly as he unloaded his lust into her attractive body. Lalian could only bite his lip in a mix of jealousy and rage as he forced his eye to remain on the carefully transcribed illustration.
“Good goddess that was great…you might be the next to bear my young!” Manith exclaimed with a chuckle as he placed his hand roughly on her flat stomach.
“I would…be honored…master…” the slave let out as she caught her breath. The act of interspecies conception was not well documented inside of The Lanthian Empire, though it had always been known to be possible. The fact that their children would be born as hybrids didn’t appear to upset the slaves, though whether they were simply concealing their concerns or not mattered little to Manith.
Yet before the slave had even freed her master’s shaft from her womanhood, the main doors of the crude throne room suddenly burst open as a trio of Zilrinian guards rushed in, panting hard and covered in various stains of blood.
“WHAT IS THE MEANING OF YOUR INTRUSION!” Manith exclaimed in surprise as he hurriedly pushed the slave off his lap, standing tall as his leathery green wings unfurled behind him.
The panic in the men’s eyes was clear as they rushed towards their nude leader. Holding a clear wound on his side, one of the men collapsed in a heap onto the stone floor, while another began to shout. “My lord, they’ve breached the walls! You must flee!”
“WHAT?!?” Manith nearly screamed in anger as the five women quickly grouped together out of his way. “HOW DID THIS HAPPEN?!?”
“They took us by surprise…my lord! Most of our guards had fallen before we even knew what occurred!” the other man yelled, wiping dirt from his face. “Please, you must flee! They’re almost to The Grand Hall!”
Hesitating for only a moment, The Chief calmed himself somewhat before ordering Lalian to retrieve his armor.
“You don’t understand…they’re heading this way!” one of the guards stated. “Command has broken down and many of our men have already retreated! We can’t repel them!”
Manith took the human-made chest plate from Lalian’s grasp and began to fasten it to himself as he replied. “NO. I’ve come too far, gained too much to simply allow others to take what’s mine. We WILL fight, and we WILL repel them. Now tell me, which Chiefdom do these invaders hail from?”
“Omrin, my lord!”
“Ah…Korvis. We shall teach that fat old fool the consequences of attacking Zilrin!” Manith yelled as he ripped his spear from Lalian’s hands. “Come! We must reinstate order among the men!”
Lalian watched as the visibly hesitant guards turned to follow their leader before he quickly began to gather his illustrations, holding them close to his chest. Yet as he moved to retreat to The Grand Hall’s inner rooms he paused, allowing his curiosity to get the better of him. He strode over to the open doorway, peering out into the night air.
The light from distant fires burned brightly behind the otherwise peaceful buildings that lay just outside. Though while the fighting remained somewhat far-off, the rising screams and shouts of battle announced a steadily approaching danger.
“Lalian…?” one of the pregnant slaves asked with a hint of fear in her voice as she cupped her belly.
The soft voice brought his attention back to the five women, causing him to step away from the entrance. “Yes miss, come. I know of a place where we may hide,” he replied before shutting the heavy doors despite knowing that they’d provide little resistance.
***
The clashing of hundreds of blades echoed around Manith as his large wings ripped him from the ground, carrying him over the wooden houses of Zilrin. The two guards accompanying him rushed down differing pathways, seeking to gather more men.
From above it quickly became obvious that any attempt at a defense would be nearly impossible. While four thousand Omrin warriors tore their way through the moderately dense settlement, only small clusters of Zilrinian’s had managed to gather to provide any opposition.
Manith sored over the small army, twisting to avoid incoming arrows as he sought out Chief Korvis. If he could slay their leader, the efforts of Omrin would be heavily diminished.
Yet as he searched, his green eyes suddenly went wide with panic as a bolt of electricity erupted from far below, arcing towards him. With only a miniscule amount of reaction time he could do nothing as it enveloped his muscled form, painfully seizing every inch of his body.
Lasting only a second the electricity dissipated, leaving his limp body to careen towards the ground. Instinctively using his remaining strength to wrap himself in his leathery wings, Manith crashed through the fragile roof of a nearby hut.
***
“Bring him to me, though leave him alive if possible!” Dominax commanded in a stern voice as he pointed in the general direction of Manith’s fall.
Clin nodded before splitting from the group of warriors gathered behind their white-cloaked leader as they marched towards the settlement’s center.
The reddish dirt pathway laying before them was illuminated only by the flames of torches as they strode forward. Enemy warriors worked to slow their advancement, though were quickly cut down while others simply turned and fled.
Dominax reached the entrance to The Grand Hall, thrusting open its heavy doors. Meeting no resistance, he strode in with confident steps until he reached the throne.
Staring down at the crudely carved seat in contemplation, he then turned to his accompanying men and women. “Warriors of Omrin, I, Chief Dominax, claim this throne for the Domani Chiefdom! If any should oppose my claim let their voice be heard!”
The warriors seemed momentarily confused before the nearest man spoke up. “My lord, we were under the impression that Chief Korvis would hold the title of Zilrin’s Chief.”
The lack of hostility in the man’s tone sent a trickle of relief through Dominax, as he had correctly read the room. His careful coaxing of respect during their journey to Zilrin had paid off. “So it was. Yet tell me, is he here? Did he come all this way, risking his life to fight amongst you? Or rather, did he choose to cower away, comfortable on his throne?”
Murmuring broke out among the warriors, echoing quietly through the main hall. The fact that they hadn’t immediately defended their Chief’s honor only proved to Dominax that their loyalties to the man remained fragile.
After a moment the discussion slowly died down before the same warrior took charge and spoke once more. “My lord, it is Chief Korvis’s right to react to your decision, not ours. We shall continue to serve you until our return, as per his orders. Yet as is our right, we request that Chief Manith be slain in retribution for our past dead regardless of who holds the throne.”
“Very well,” Dominax agreed, taking his place on the throne. “The Lanthian ordered the slaughter of my people. He will be handled accordingly.”
***
Groaning, Manish slowly staggered to his feet as he brushed debris aside. The fall had heavily damaged his wings, leaving several large tears that dripped light green blood onto the wood floor. After retrieving his spear, he stumbled out of the hut’s entrance only to be met by several Omrin Warriors.
Catching sight of his winged form they quickly ran to face him, five in total. Teeth bared like wild animals, they descended upon him with bloodthirsty fury.
Manith swung his spear in wide arcs, attempting to keep their blades at bay. His muscles ached from the fall, yet he fought with furious vigor.
Clin’s blonde hair caught Manith’s eye as the warrior approached, clutching his sword in both hands. He reached his fellow fighters’ position, joining in as they slowly encircled the Lanthian.
Manith watched the men carefully as they ceased their slashes, cautiously watching for an opening as he had managed to temporarily fend them off. Yet moving fast, Manith spun his spear, catching the blade of his nearest enemy and wrenching it from the man’s grip, before moving to drive the sharp tip through the man’s unguarded chest.
Reacting instantly to the death of their companion, the humans sprang their attack, rushing in to finish him off.
Clin quickly stepped back as the spear spun mere inches from his torso, catching the warrior to his left in the face as it opened a large gash that severed the man’s nose.
Swinging his long weapon, Manith batted away their swords as screams from a nearby conflict echoed throughout the night sky, yet neither him nor his combatants reacted as a nearby hut erupted into flames. Rather, their blades simply danced as they smashed into each other.
The blonde-haired warrior blocked an incoming attack, nearly stumbling from the Chief’s forceful swing. The move opened the warrior to his right to drive his sword through Manith’s shredded wing, inciting a cry of pain to erupt from his green lips as he smashed his pierced wing into his attacker. The man fell hard to the ground, disarmed and unconscious.
Three men remaining, they all frantically ducked as a barrage of arrows slammed into nearby huts, sending a stray arrow directly onto the neck of one of Manith’s attackers.
Clin looked to his last remaining ally, before both men charged once more at their winged enemy. Cutting low, then high, Clin could hardly avoid the spear as it spun to and fro, desperate to keep the human pair at bay.
Manith rotated to face Clin’s companion, ducking under his sword and driving his spear through the man’s groin with a bloodthirsty roar.
As the warrior fell in blood curdling screams, Clin brought his blade downwards, though not fast enough to avoid being batted to the side as Manith turned quickly towards his final combatant. With a thrust of his wings, he sent a gust of wind strong enough to knock Clin off balance before shooting his muscled leg hard into the blonde man’s armored chest.
Clin fell to the floor, knocking the breath from his lungs. Wearily, he gazed up at the Lanthian, willing himself to move just enough to avoid becoming skewered by the Chief’s vicious weapon. He then hacked wildly at the spear, crudely removing several of the fingers from Manith’s left hand.
Gritting his teeth in agony, the Lanthian staggered back as he clutched at his missing appendages, nearly unaware as yet another hut collapsed in flames behind him.
Knowing that he may not receive another opportunity, Clin jumped to his feet and frantically slashed at his foe, tearing into the Chief’s exceedingly tattered wings as he desperately attempted to defend himself.
Though not nearly as capable wielding his spear with only one hand, Manith jabbed his weapon forwards, opening a large slit across Clin’s left cheek. Yet the attack proved to be insufficient, as the blonde man drove his hilt into the Lanthian’s face, brutally knocking him unconscious.
Breathing hard and bleeding badly from his wound, Clin stood over Manith as the Chief collapsed to the floor. He allowed his sword to lower, pointed towards the reddish dirt.
“Gods…you fought well…” he muttered to the fallen Lanthian, attempting to calm himself. Yet even gazing at the slain humans, he knew that he wouldn’t harm an unarmed foe, even if Dominax hadn’t given the command to take him alive.
With the leader of their enemies in their possession, what little chance Zilrin held of repelling them was destroyed.
28th of Twic, 5 BVE.
Dril Tundra, City of Shai.
“…as such, it would be prudent for the surplus to be allocated to Clan Irsi, as it would…”
Varse quietly tapped his foot as he listened to Sinshi address the council, his patience steadily draining as the plump Dril spouted his boisterous arguments.
“…the failure of our latest harvest could easily be compensated for if we were to simply receive-“
“Alright, Representative Sinshi, that’s enough,” Varse interrupted in his stern voice. “We take your meaning. Let us vote and put this matter to rest.”
“Potentate Varse, it does not reflect well on your position to callously silence a member of The Council!” Sinshi stated with mock surprise.
“You know very well that you haven’t been silenced,” Representative Tsida replied in barely concealed annoyance. “We’ve all heard your arguments, and frankly, I’m sure the council would enjoy seeing the outside of this chamber within the next century.”
Low chuckles echoed quietly off the dark stone walls in response. Deep inside the heart of The Citadel, they all remained seated around the massive, rounded table made of stone, etched into intricate designs that included the symbols of all twenty-eight clans.
Varse granted Tsida a nod of gratitude before standing from his stone chair. “Those who believe Clan Irsi should receive the entirety of this year’s Tsrisu surplus, place your left hand on the table. Alternatively, those of you who believe that the surplus should be divided equally amongst the clans, as is tradition, use your right,” he explained, slapping his own right hand down.
The members of the council placed their respective hands on the ancient stone table without hesitation, clearly having made up their minds long ago. Though several representatives sided with Sinshi, unsurprisingly due to their unsavory loyalty to the man, his opponents won out.
“Good, let us be rid of this issue. The Council is dismissed,” Varse commanded.
Slowly, the other members found their way out of the room, including a disgruntled Sinshi. Varse was left alone, granting him a moment of quiet. His first few Council meetings had been a learning curve, for even though he had thought himself less than naive, the barely concealed alliances banding representatives into opposing factions had been discouraging.
Yet even still, he had found hope in the actions of many of the members. Though he would have been blind to miss the clear hold that Tsida seemingly held over the majority of his supporters, she had shown a willingness to vote alongside him, ensuring that most decisions fell in his favor. If she had been acting out of interest for the good of The Shai Domain, or Varse himself, he couldn’t say. Yet it mattered little, as her support granted him the opportunity to act in the best interest of his people as a whole.
Though as he finally left the private council chamber, he was suddenly met by the presence of the very Dril he had been thinking of.
“Potentate Varse, may I have a word?” Tsida asked as she stepped in front of him, placing her gentle hand on his forearm. Though slightly shorter than an average female Dril, she possessed their species childbearing hips. Her black hair was cut to be chin length, the ends dyed a deep red to match her Clan colors. Her body was concealed in a red and orange robe, cut to hang over her groin and display her feminine legs. She couldn’t be older than her late twenties, outmatching him slightly though every bit as gorgeous as the most attractive members of their species.
“Certainly,” Varse replied, feeling her light touch through his sleeve. He’d have to be a eunuch to feel anything less than lust towards her, yet he retained control over his urges. For a Potentate to sleep with a council member would result in exile. Yet…no law stated that he couldn’t appreciate the alluring beauty of his acquaintance.
“Walk with me,” she requested, gracefully taking his arm. She began to lead him forwards, talking as she walked. “You performed admirably in there.”
“Oh?” he questioned, attempting to ignore her sensual body pressed slightly against his. They reached the top of The Citadel’s main stairs and began to descend.
“That pompous Sinshi believes he can have his way with The Council, yet we showed him differently.”
“Yes, well, I merely voted for the optimal solution. Clan Ishi will fare more than fine with an even split,” Varse replied dryly.
“Oh, as did I,” Tsida said as they reached the main level, only to turn down an off-branching corridor as they slowly continued. “Yet his dismay was an added bonus. Our service to The Domain often brings forth opportunities to topple the grandiose.”
“Perhaps, if that is what you desire in such an occupation.”
Taking a glance up at him, Tsida’s crimson eyes momentarily met his own. “And what exactly does our new Potentate desire from his position? It occurs to me that I may not know you as well as I had assumed.”
Despite her polite tone and calm strides, Varse suddenly felt as though he had been placed on trial. Choosing his next words carefully, his expression remained firm. “I only desire to uphold my oath, to serve our people. Individuals such as Sinshi do disgust me, to be sure, yet I care little for ‘toppling’ the man so long as he refrains from interfering.”
Her polite, yet confident smirk widened ever so slightly before she returned her attention forwards. “So I thought.” They turned an additional corner before she continued. “It is rare to encounter your breed, a man dedicated to principle. Yet it is for that very reason that I am certain we’ll fit well together.”
“I don’t take your meaning…” he stated, turning to look at her once more. The torchlight that illuminated the dark stone halls of The Citadel danced across her pure white skin, hugging the womanly curves of her body.
“Oh, come now, surely you haven’t missed how the majority of The Council matches my votes?” she questioned with a coy smile. “It may be beneficial to all Dril if you were to be added to our little…agreement.”
Varse’s red eyes squinted as he peered down at the woman. “If you’re suggesting that I join your cabal, you may be disappointed.”
Yet despite his harsh response, Tsida appeared to be unsurprised. “My dear Potentate, you cannot blame me for at least offering. In any case, your answer only reassures me that you are the correct man for the job. This ‘cabal’ as you call it wouldn’t give a second thought to selling the wellbeing of our people to the highest bidder. Yet luckily for The Domain, I happen to be that highest bidder. In addition to some level of blackmail, that is.”
To hear the blunt truth was nearly a new experience for Varse, as he came to a full stop to regard her with interest. “You…admit to bribing The Council? To what purpose?”
Tsida’s coy smile gradually adopted a more serious look, wishing to eliminate any room for misinterpretation. “For the betterment of our people, as you said. You may doubt me when I tell you that wealth means little to me, yet I hold it in abundance. To bend these fools into acting towards the betterment of The Domain…I can think of no greater use of my resources.”
“On that we can wholeheartedly agree,” Varse replied with conviction. “Though I don’t particularly approve of your methods.”
Tsida granted him a nod of understanding. “I am relieved to hear you say that, yet it is necessary. So long as you are committed towards our traditions and our people, you can take comfort in knowing that we shall support you.”
Though somewhat conflicted, Varse couldn’t argue. An ally may be just what he needed to enact true change, especially one far less unsavory in comparison to the rest of the council. “Very well, Tsida.”
After a moment they resumed their walk, finally reaching a large stone door with intricate carvings that closely matched those of The Council table. Tsida reached into her skimpy robe, producing an odd key engraved with her clan symbols.
“What is the purpose in bringing me here?” he questioned, watching as she inserted the key into the center of the door. With a click, it began to slowly slide into the wall, driven by hidden gears and mechanisms.
“Potentate Varse, as much as I’d love a simple social walk, there are things that a man of your position must be privy to,” she said, leading him inside. The large door opened to a long stairway, delving deeper into the ancient citadel.
Taking a torch from the wall, Varse followed her as they descended the steps.
“Only members of The Council are permitted on this level, as none of the public knows of its existence,” she explained, hearing the heavy door screech as it sealed behind them, leaving only his torch to keep the surrounding darkness at bay.
To keep an entire level secret from the very people they were meant to serve left a distasteful feeling in Varse, yet he wasn’t surprised. Rumors of The Council hiding away secrets had persisted throughout The Domain for centuries, though no solid proof had ever surfaced.
He could see the glow of torches far below, slowly growing closer before the cramped stairway leveled out into a short corridor. At its end, it opened into a massive domed chamber, hexagonal in shape and outlined by two levels of wooden balconies. Each wall was lined with separate smaller rooms that appeared to be dormitories, storage holders, training alcoves, and general lounge areas. All were illuminated by bluish torches, burning the blubber of pale skinned Siesh Fish. Yet the mesmerizing size of the chamber was only a secondary distraction, as Varse’s attention was primarily engaged by dozens of individuals going about their day, training, socializing, and eating. Though they were deep beneath the very heart of The Dril Domain, Dril appeared to be heavily in the minority of odd beings inhabiting the chamber, as members of nearly all sapient species appeared to be present, barring any Lish.
Seemingly amused by Varse’s stunned silence, Tsida grabbed his hand and led him inside. “I am certain that you’ve heard rumors of The Domain infiltrating outside civilizations, yes? Well, allow me to officially confirm that fact, my dear Potentate.”
As they made their way to the center of the chamber, all nearby individuals granted them a dutiful bow before continuing on with their tasks. None dared to speak to the pair.
“This…has been under The Citadel all this time?” Varse asked, gazing around in shock. Subtly, he realized that the chamber was considerably warmer than the rest of the fortress, providing a moderately comfortable temperature to its non-Dril inhabitants.
Tsida nodded, coming to a stop and turning to face him. “For centuries, The Council has trained agents to interfere with outside civilizations, helping raise some while toppling others. It’s all about balance, you see? No outsiders can be permitted to gain enough strength to threaten The Domain, just as we have no interest in conquering them in turn.”
“I…had heard rumors of such actions. We all had. I just…didn’t anticipate them to be true,” he replied, his tone a mix of horror and disgust.
“Oh, they are, my Potentate. Yet, like many unsavory acts, they are necessary,” Tsida replied, placing her hands on her hips with a coy smirk.
Varse looked at her in near disbelief. “Necessary? To interfere with outsiders? The Domain’s very existence stems from an ideology of isolation!”
“Well of course, though what do you believe has allowed our isolation to persist? Our nearly non-existent armies? Our ‘strong’ borders, of which are regularly bypassed by Lish abductors?” Tsida questioned sarcastically, before her red eyes narrowed as she adopted a serious tone. “Of course not. Our founders knew that outside powers will always rise and fall. Given enough time and power, they’ll eventually come knocking.”
“Surely there is a better method that doesn’t directly spit in the face of our most basic traditions,” Varse stated firmly.
“Ah, tradition. Well, my Potentate, it could be argued that this establishment of agents is itself a tradition, originating from the very founding of The Domain. As our leader, you yourself have vowed to protect our people and traditions. What better way than to ensure that none are able to threaten us?”
A long moment passed as he considered her words, eyeing a pair of nearby humans as they engaged in a mock duel. “I don’t approve of this…though I cannot say that some of what you claim isn’t valid. I’d like some time to…ponder this revelation.”
In response, she nodded understandingly, placing her hand gently on his forearm. “Yes, my Potentate. Yet, you’ll need this,” she said, producing an additional key from inside her robe. Though similar to the one that had granted them access, it was engraved with the symbols of clan Chalvarrus. “All members of The Council have access to the level, along with the services of our agents. They are bound to serve every representative. Yet be warned, as they will not act against another member of The Council, even if given a direct order from The Potentate.”
Varse stared down at the key, reluctantly accepting it after a moment. “Understood, I suppose.”
***
After exiting the chamber, the pair of Dril parted from The Citadel, strolling through the dense snow-covered streets of Shai.
“…and with only a single vote, the…” Tsida continued on, finishing a story from before Varse had been elected. They neared a small yet expensive looking building that stuck out sorely amongst its surrounding structures. Though all were made of stone, their intended target possessed artistically carved symbols that decorated its outer walls, while two small statues of Tsida herself guarded the entrance. “Ah, here we are.”
Though all twenty-eight representatives were granted quarters inside of The Citadel, many preferred to inhabit personally owned residences inside of the city.
“Thank you for escorting me home, my dear Potentate,” Tsida said with just a hint of flirtatiousness.
Varse nodded sternly, once again feeling her soft touch as she placed her hand on his arm. “Think nothing of it.”
Unlocking her door, she stepped inside, and gestured for him to follow. “Please, come in. You have my word that there are no additional secret enclaves inside,” she joked, smirking.
Obliging, he hesitantly entered, closing the door behind him. The interior was no less decorated than the outside, possessing several paintings of Tsida in various poses. One in particular caught his eye, displaying nearly her full nude body, using her hands to conceal her most intimate areas. The alluring depiction brought a hint of arousal through his loins, yet he gave no voice to his desires. “Quite…elegant.”
“Agreed,” she chucked arrogantly.
Though before he could reply, a man entered the foyer through a side door, bowing the instant he spotted them. However, rather than a Dril, Varse immediately recognized him to be a male Arkos with the grey skin and black stripes of his Wandering Desert-dwelling species. Though far skinnier than most Arkos males, the man sported their long-tapered tail and curled horns. His feline irises granted him a wild appearance, contrasting with his dignified posture. Yet the detail that utterly surprised Varse was the fact that he wore absolutely no clothing, completely exposing a stripped cock that was harshly contained inside of a metal chastity cage.
“Ah, mistress, I knew I had heard you enter,” the man stated, possessing the faintest hint of an accent carried over from his native tongue. The warmer temperature of the building, not too dissimilar to that of the hidden chamber, protected the man from the brutal cold of the tundra city. Fires licked the stone walls, emanating from several small cauldron’s lining the walls for heat.
“Norok, meet our new Potentate, Varse of Clan Chalvarrus,” Tsida replied, gesturing to her fellow Dril.
Though seemingly taken off guard the Arkos man was quick to kneel before Varse’s feet. “My lord, it is an honor!”
Varse turned to Tsida, narrowing his eyes. “An Arkos servant? In Shai?” he asked, though not overtly harsh. Though many, including himself, disapproved of such things, no law directly prohibited the possession of a slave from an outsider species.
Tsida nonchalantly waved off his accusatory statement. “Oh please, I’m hardly the only representative to keep a servant. Besides, Norok here has proven himself to be quite a good boy. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes mistress!” the man exclaimed, rising from his position on the floor. “Please, allow me to escort you upstairs.”
Though Varse granted her a questioning look, Tsida gestured for him to follow as they made their way to the staircase. Continuing, they reached a room which quickly revealed itself to be her personal quarters. With a large bed decorated in her Clan’s colors extending from the far wall, shelves holding strange and foreign artifacts decorated the walls.
Before he could even react, Varse watched as Tsida turned to face him, slipping out of her robe. It fell to the floor at her ankles, utterly exposing every inch of her seductive form.
Desire flared through him as his eyes instinctively traveled over her body, appreciating the tattoos that ran down her side before pulling his gaze away. “Representative Tsida…!”
“Opps…” she playfully uttered, pursing her soft lips slightly. “Apologies, my dear Potentate…”
Varse backed up slightly, attempting to look away as Tsida closed the distance between them. With intentional slowness, she dragged her hands down his chest, feeling his moderate muscles beneath his robe.
“Come now, don’t be so prudish. Surely, we can spend just a little longer together, yes?”
Varse looked down into her alluring eyes, his body tingling under her touch. “Tsida…I’m the Potentate. This is…entirely forbidden…”
Amused, she smirked. “Oh? I’m sure your predecessor would disagree. Ysil and I were quite…familiar with each other. Though he wasn’t nearly as convicted as you, nor as attractive.”
The revelation surprised Varse, though he knew that it shouldn’t. His short experience as Potentate continually revealed the disappointing truth of The Domain’s rulership.
“Besides, I purposely volunteered to introduce you to our agents. Should we really relinquish such a perfect opportunity to spend some time alone?”
For a long moment Varse’s mind raced, his primal lust clashing with his rational side. Yet in the end, he had a duty. “I’m sorry Tsida…I can’t. I took a vow, as did you,” he said firmly, all while desperately wishing that she hadn’t been a member of The Council. He could have any female he desired, yet only a forbidden fruit hung before him ready and waiting.
Disappointed though unsurprised, Tsida gently pushed him backwards until he was outside of the bedroom. “Hmm, what a waste. Go then, my dear Potentate, and see yourself out. We shall proceed strictly as comrades.”
The door closed, leaving him alone in the hall. He turned to leave yet paused. Though the stairs leading to his freedom were mere feet away, he didn’t move. Slowly, knowing the potential impact of his decision, he turned back around, placing his hand on the handle.
Taking a deep breath, he pulled the door open, finalizing his choice. With primal lust he barged back into her sleeping quarters, already unfastening his robe.
“Ah, how predictable,” Tsida sarcastically teased, having already settled down on the bed in preparation for his possible change of heart. Legs spread and Norok at her side, her feminine form practically called to him. “It appears that no man may reject my allure.”
Caring little that the Arkos ‘servant’ watched his approach, Varse threw off his clothing, exposing his completely white manhood as he mounted the bed. Already hardening at the prospect of mating with such a stunning female, he pounced onto her like a ravenous predator.
Wrapping her arms around him and pulling him into a flurry of passionate kisses, she slid her tongue hungerly into his mouth as she ran her hands over his skin.
With her breast pressed against his chest, he rubbed his erection against her waiting pussy as he explored her exquisite curves.
Norok merely watched, looking down at them in visible desire. His caged cock began to twitch, unable to free itself.
“Poor little thing…” Tsida nearly moaned, pulling away from Varse long enough to reach into the top drawer of the nightstand. She produced a small key, holding it up for the Arkos to see. “I…nearly forgot about you. Does your little cock want to be freed?”
Norok eagerly nodded, fumbling with the cage in desperation.
“You know the rules…hands behind your back…” she ordered, waiting for him to obey before sliding the key into the lock as Varse continued to fondle her body. “Good boy…”
The Arkos nearly groaned as she slid the chastity cage from his imprisoned manhood, allowing him to quickly reach his full hardness. His four-inch-long cock stuck straight out, slightly leaking precum as his mistress’s beautiful young body was roughly caressed.
Varse cared little about the servant’s gaze as he grabbed Tsida’s childbearing hips, his erection throbbing to breed. More than ready, she reached down, taking hold of his shaft and positioning it with her naturally hairless vagina.
Almost whimpering, Norok fought to control his arousal and jealousy as she guided Varse’s cock forwards, peering up into the Arkos’s eyes with pleasure as she was penetrated.
“Ooooooooohhhh Varse…” she moaned, matching his long groan as he pushed his tip deeply into her tight depths.
Pushing his hips forwards, he gritted his teeth at the blissful sensation of her snug tunnel, eagerly accepting him.
Pressing her soft lips lightly against his ear, she whispered. “Fuck…me.”
He needed no further encouragement, eagerly bucking his hips as he thrusted in and out of her Dril vagina.
“Y..yeeesss….” she groaned, pulling him close as he pounded away, slightly stretching her somewhat experienced pussy with each movement.
Cock twitching, Norok could do little besides watch his mistress eagerly accept Varse’s rough thrusts, for he wasn’t permitted from touching his own manhood. He was her property, nothing more.
With pity in her eyes Tsida reached over and dragged her finger down Norok’s length, forcing a quiver through him. “Does little…ahhh…Norok want to join in?”
The Arkos nodded eagerly, almost frantic with lust as he watched Varse’s hips rise and fall, roughly ramming his cock each time.
Varse paid no attention to the other man, enthralled fully in Tsida’s seductive body. Were it possible for his black blood to boil with arousal, he knew that it would be inevitable. His snow-colored balls ached, yearning to breed.
“Then be…ahhh…patient…” she commanded, removing her finger from Norok’s cock and groaning as her pussy was used.
A whimper escaped the Arkos’s lips, yet he obeyed his mistress.
Varse nuzzled his face against her soft neck, nibbling her gently and forcing a surprised gasp from Tsida.
“Ooohhh yes…my dear Potentate…” she cooed, dragging her nails down his back in primal bliss. “Use me…”
Pounding her roughly into her elaborately decorated sheets, he could only grit his teeth as his manhood stirred her insides. Though not the tightest pussy he had experienced, her skill easily compensated. Utilizing her internal muscles, she worked her vagina to practically milk him with each movement.
“V..vaaaarse…!” she nearly screamed, clenching her somewhat short body as her orgasm overtook her.
Norok watched as his mistress finished around Varse’s still thrusting manhood, his own nearly throbbing.
Tsida threw her head back, basking in her pleasure as it slowly leveled. “You…ahh…really know how…ahh…to use that cock of yours…”
Though not overly experienced he had learned early on what it took to please a woman, gaining a significant amount of knowledge from a slightly older member of his Clan. She had taken him into her bed at the cusp of manhood, providing plenty of practice.
Satisfied, Tsida took charge and guided him to rotate onto his back, switching positions. Now on top, she pressed herself against him while retaining his cock deep inside of her. “Well…Norok? Come,” she ordered, reaching back to place her hands on her round ass.
The very invitation he had desperately awaited, the Arkos wasted no time in mounting the bed. Taking his position behind her, he eagerly grabbed her firm cheeks and pressed his tip against her anus.
“Go on…” she encouraged, biting her lip as she felt Varse slowly resuming his thrusts under her.
The Arkos practically radiated arousal, slowly pushing his less than average cock into her snug hole. Hilting her quickly, Norok moaned loudly while she simply smirked down at her Dril lover.
Both Varse and Norok began to pound into her, using both of her holes. Double penetrated, she wrapped her arms around Varse’s neck as her short body was pinned between them.
Sliding in and out in opposing rhythms, they unleashed their lust upon her, using her solely for their satisfaction. The room erupted into a cacophony of moans and groans, adding to the squeaking of the bed.
“G…good boys!” she nearly screamed. “Fuck…me! Make me…cum again!”
Neither disappointed, mashing into her continuously until she could only cry out as she orgasmed once again.
Norok’s long hairless tail fluttered through the air, a sign of complete satisfaction as his stripped penis repeatedly dove into her ass.
“You…know the rules…” she managed to mutter through the haze of ecstasy. “Pull out…when you’re…ahhh…ready….”
Her words were nothing more than a faint echo in Varse’s ears, ramming his cock up into her pussy. Despite her clear wishes, he knew that there was little chance of him obeying when the time came. Whether due to her abundant desirability or her continual teasing, the desire to breed particularly seized Varse. He knew of Dril’s high fertility, even compared to other species, and knew that he wished for nothing more in that moment than for the chance to knock Tsida up.
Yet she remained oblivious to his intentions, writhing and moaning between the two men. Taking the cocks of two separate sapient species at once, her lower half burned with pleasure.
Norok roughly squeezed her shapely asscheeks with both hands, feeling it’s firmness as his skinny hips moved back and forth. Though having always been denied her vagina, he had enjoyed her anus on rare occasions.
Reaching down to hold onto her childbearing hips, Varse couldn’t prevent himself from picturing his fellow Council member pregnant with his child. Such a scandal it would cause, yet the risk was held at bay by his primal lust. Whatever it took, he’d conceal the child’s parentage, a decision that half formed in his pleasure-addled mind.
“M…mistress…” the Arkos moaned, bucking his hips wildly. “I…I’m going to…”
“Pull out…ahhh…and cum for me…” she groaned, pierced by both rods. “Let your…ahh…little cock spurt…”
Her words pushing him over the edge, Norok hurriedly yanked his erection from her tight anus, whimpering as he reached his peak. With aching lust, he began to rub his shaft between her asscheecks as Arkos sperm squirted from his tip and leaked down her lower back.
“Good boy…” she smirked, feeling his seed leak uselessly down her pure white skin.
With his competing male down, Varse’s pace quickly increased, delving into his overwhelming urges.
Tsida held onto him tightly, grinding her hips to match his rhythm. Riding him hard, her pussy practically begged for his cum.
“P…pull out…my Potentate…” she moaned, biting his ear softly.
Yet far too lost to pleasure to regard her demands with any care, he simply continued, speeding towards his climax. Within a minute he felt his orgasm approaching, forcing his hips to buck wildly.
Tsida made a move to lift her hips, allowing him to remove his cock. Yet in surprise, she groaned as he simply wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back.
“V..Varse…” she moaned, though with a hint of urgency. She felt him getting closer and closer, just on the brink of cumming. “V…VARSE…”
Holding her tightly, he rammed into her cunt one final time, crying out in ecstasy as his Dril sperm flooded her insides.
Tsida yelped, slapping at his bald head in panic as she felt ropes of potent sperm spurt into her fertile pussy.
Unconcerned by her light attacks, he simply clenched his eyes shut and drained his lust into her beautiful body.
Norok watched in shock, witnessing his mistress’s vagina receive the Dril’s seed, knowing the likely consequences. His own cock twitched in jealousy, nestled between her round cushions.
With his orgasm fading Varse remained still, enjoying the afterglow of his bliss. Still holding onto her, he felt her soft snowy skin against his. Whatever the consequences, he’d weather them.
28th of Twic, 5 BVE.
Lower Human Basin, Outside Omrin.
Xenia and Briza pressed themselves against the settlement’s crumbling outer wall, concealing themselves in the darkness of night as a single guard paced the wall above.
Accompanied only by a small group of ten warriors, they waited for the guard to pass before continuing their search. Xenia held the message tightly in her grip, sent from Dominax mere hours after taking Zilrin. In it he had dictated the likely patrol areas of any remaining guards gleaned from Salduin’s observations. Yet also just as valuable was the included location of a vulnerability in their old wall, a flaw that Hesin had discovered during their short time in Omrin.
“This looks to be it, ma’am,” one of the accompanying guards said in a hushed voice.
Briza assessed the crude bricks in what limited moonlight existed, quickly confirming the statement. A hastily constructed repair from decades earlier, the mortar began to crumble as she applied minimal pressure.
Taking turns prying the individual bricks from their resting place among the fortification, pausing in several instances where the guard passed over them, the group swiftly created a hole large enough for a crouching man to pass through.
Entering the large settlement one by one, the group of infiltrators regathered before proceeding. Led by Briza, they moved quickly through the dark streets while avoiding patrolling guards.
The density of the mostly wooden buildings appeared to increase the closer they crept towards the settlement’s center, subtly hinting at Omrin’s outward expansion throughout past generations. Even the reddish dirt pathways switched to coarse stones as they neared their target, spotting two guards standing on opposite sides of the main entrance.
The group remained hidden behind the nearest building as they assessed the situation. Briza gestured to their nearest archer, using a series of hand motions to order him to wait on the other side of the structure. She then took her place at the edge of the wooden house’s rear, readying her own bow.
Both leaning from cover just enough to seek their targets, Briza and her fellow archer loosed their arrows after a quick whistle from her soft lips. The two guards jerked suddenly before collapsing to the ground, bleeding onto the unpolished stone.
Pausing only to ensure that the guards’ deaths had remained undetected, Xenia took the lead and rushed to the main entrance.
As the group pushed open the heavy doors, they found themselves inside of the mostly empty throne room, protected only by a single guard that remained slumped back in a wooden chair leaning against the wall.
Xenia quickly hushed the group before her dark eyes fell onto her prey. With her hips swaying seductively, she closed the distance between them and placed her hand over the man’s mouth. Before he had even awakened, she dragged her knife across his neck, forcing his eyes to open in shock as he was split open. For several seconds she held him there, waiting until he slipped from consciousness.
Newly alone in the throne room, the group relaxed somewhat as Briza released her controlled stress in the form of a calm breath. She then began to speak, raising her voice slightly. “Search the hold and retrieve Chief Korvis and his daughter. Bring them here unharmed.”
“I’ll watch the entrance with you,” Xenia replied as the other warriors continued down the limited number of off branching corridors, entering into the wooden sections of the building. Xenia whipped the blood from her knife and hands on her revealing loincloth before sliding it into her belt, slowly walking to rejoin Briza near the throne.
The ever so slightly taller woman assessed her female companion with uncertainty, still not quite sure what to make of her. Though they had lived together for just over a month, she still found it difficult to accept that she’d now be sharing Dominax with another woman.
Xenia returned her gaze, letting not an ounce of her confidence slip. Wordlessly, she placed her hands on her womanly hips, exemplifying her feminine form before turning towards the main door.
Briza allowed a silent moment to pass, before finally breaking the silence. “Xenia…what are we even doing here?” she asked, despite knowing full well what fate they’d inflict upon Korvis. “Our feud lies with Chief Manith, not Korvis. To slay a man in cold blood, an ally even, is…”
Xenia turned to regard her, smirking deviously. “How odd, you question our mate’s commands despite knowing him far longer. Could his favorite girl really disobey him?”
“Of course not, I’m here, aren’t I?” Briza responded coldly, despite the flutter of hope that the word ‘favorite’ brought her. “Yet the fact that I’ve known him longer is precisely why I’m concerned. Dominax has always been somewhat interested in the mismanagement of Nitri, yet he’s never conveyed a desire to rule himself.”
As Briza spoke, she noticed Xenia subtly glancing down, stealing a quick glance at her breasts. This was nothing new, as she had repeatedly caught the dark-haired woman sneakily looking at her throughout their time around each other. Though Briza was more than accustomed to the lustful glances from males, even to the point of harshly rejecting their advances when they grew too aggressive, she felt odd having her body looked upon with desire by another female.
“Perhaps you simply never noticed,” Xenia stated in what was nearly a mocking tone. “He told me that you two were close, though maybe not as close as either of you had thought.”
Briza glared, turning on her heel to face her. Yet despite her anger, she maintained her self-control and kept her voice firm. “You may have found your way into his bed, though you don’t get to talk about our relationship that way.”
Raising her hands in a disingenuous gesture of defeat, the black-haired woman smiled. “I merely tease, Briza.”
Convinced or not, she dropped her hostility for the most part, easing her glare. She then folded her arms, unintentionally pushing up her breasts slightly and drawing an additional sneaky glance from Xenia. “Apologies, though perhaps there is truth in your words. I feel as though…the slaughter has affected him somewhat. Especially considering that Domani has only just been settled, yet he’s more focused on conquering land. We should all be home, not…here.”
“Yet without his persistence, our children would possess nothing,” she stated, placing her hand on her not quite visible baby bump. “With his resolve to possess power, they shall be raised as rulers.”
“I’d rather they have a father…” Briza replied, unable to conceal the worry from her voice.
Though before Xenia could reply, their fellow warriors re-emerged into the throne room, holding onto the arms of an overweight man and five younger women. Roughly, they shoved the man to the floor, inciting a cry of protest.
“Korvis, I assume?” Xenia asked, wasting no time as she and Briza turned to stand over him.
Kneeling on the stone floor, the man attempted to rise, only to be pushed back onto his knees by one of the male warriors. Completely naked, he did nothing to conceal his averagely sized cock, even as his daughters nervously watched close by. “Damn you, what is this?!”
“This, old man, is the end of your reign,” Xenia replied with a sneer.
One of the warriors approached her, holding out the white knife that Dominax had granted Korvis. “He took down Mindra with this as soon as we entered his quarters.”
She took the blade, taking her time to appreciate its odd metal while their prisoners waited with anticipation. She had been present when Dominax performed his strange ritual to transform the blade, yet its light weight continued to baffle her.
“Hold a moment!” Korvis exclaimed, looking up at her in a mix of anger and desperation. “That’s Chimira Steel, stronger than anything you’ve ever seen! I know of the only man who knows how to create it. Whoever you happen to be, simply allow my daughters and I to leave this place alive and I shall grant him to you! I swear on my honor.”
Amused, Xenia turned her attention from the blade to the kneeling man. “Ah, but who do you think sent us?”
An expression of realization spread over his face. “You’re…Chief Dominax’s warriors? But…why?”
“High-Chief Dominax as of tonight, though that is of little concern to you. Go to your grave with the knowledge that you are but a necessary step in the ascension of your downfall’s architect,” Xenia said, before leaning down to whisper into his ear. “Although, you should know that your son Fildir is dead, fallen in battle.“
Processing her words, Korvis’s eyes went wide at the revelation. Whether he believed her regarding his heir’s death or not mattered little, as seconds later she drove the white blade deep into his throat.
Pulling the dagger free, she smirked as she watched him collapse to the floor, clutching his neck in panic.
Briza turned her head away, deeply sickened by Xenia’s sadistic display. The actual execution did little to bother her, for she was a warrior. Death was a regular part of daily life. Yet the cruelty had been repulsive. There was no need to divulge that they had learned of Fildir’s accidental death from Dominax’s letter, nor the disgusting joy that the woman had seemingly taken from its reveal. Thus, Briza gritted her teeth and pointed her gaze elsewhere.
For the second time in mere minutes Xenia cleaned her victim’s blood from a weapon, stepping over the body as she approached the group of girls. Horror spread across their faces at the sight of their slain father, as the nearby guards were forced to roughly cover the mouths of three to hush their screams. “Now, which of you goes by the name of ‘Dunith’?”
There was a brief hesitation before one stepped forward. With her brunette curls hanging over her breasts, she hardened her face to conceal her nearly visible fear.
Xenia looked her up and down, as if assessing a competitor. “It appears that you are the lucky one, for I have instructions to grant you the title of Chief.”
Her siblings looked to her in utter shock, though Dunith simply bowed her head in acknowledgement. “Chi- High-Chief Dominax had informed me of such plans, miss.”
“Oh?” Xenia asked with only a hint of suspicion. Though his orders were clear, Dominax hadn’t revealed the nature of his ‘meeting’ with the young woman.
“He warned that this day may come,” Dunith responded obediently, revealing very little.
Xenia closed the short distance between them, taking the girl’s chin in her moderately gentle grip. “Then, sweet Dunith, do you pledge your loyalty to him? To rule under his command, and join the Domani High-Chiefdom?”
The young woman’s eyes looked past Xenia to gaze at her deceased father, instinctively placing her hand on her belly in concern for her likely pregnancy. “I do, miss. I shall serve him well.”
Recognizing the subtle gesture Xenia’s eyes narrowed, yet she gave no voice to her suspicions. Though potentially gaining yet another female competitor vying for Dominax, no good would come from throwing around clumsy accusations. “Good choice.”
With Xenia taking a step back and presenting the white dagger, Dunith eagerly gripped the blade. “And what of my sisters?”
“Exile,” Briza finally cut in, pushing aside her personal misgivings to address the new Chief. “They shall not be harmed.”
Placing her hands on her hips, Xenia gave Dunith a smirk. “Yes, now come. There is much to be done. We must prepare to announce the unfortunate passing of Chief Korvis in his sleep, his fat heart giving out after learning of his son’s death. The population shall know of their new borders, as their new Chief shall be eager to join us after the victory of Dominax in Zilrin.”
A small pause passed as Dunith took a final look at Korvis before turning her gaze to Xenia with penetrating ambition, evidently finalizing her decision. “Yes, miss. Hail High-Chief Dominax.”
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