The Vaid Empire

Vaid Empire: Conquest

Chapter 129

42nd of Fonic, 22 AVE. 

Kingdom of Wonakaros, Holy City of Arkos-Tul. 

“I’m sorry.” Kneeling in the central plaza, Naram peered up at her father’s corpse. 

Gone was the platform. It had been stripped away shortly after The God Emperor’s speech. The cross which held The Holy Kromak was driven firmly into the ground below, a permanent fixture of the plaza looming before the ancient fertility altar. 

It wasn’t a pleasant sight. The headless corpse of their fallen ruler had endured months beneath the desert sun and occasional storms. Human guards stood in a circle around the cross at all times, unintentionally offering protection from the many species of winged creatures that roamed the sky and picked at the flesh of dead men. 

Naram didn’t look away, nor did many of the Arkos women and children that came to kneel before his corpse. The God Emperor wanted them to see the decay of their false deity, for many had whispered that his divine flesh would never rot. Every day proved them wrong. 

Hardly could a single warrior be found among them. For decades, any Arkos man or woman of Wonakaros that sought to pick up a blade had prayed to their divine champion. His defeat was proof to many that their words had been empty, leaving a bitter taste upon the tongues of thousands. 

Permitted to enter the circle of guards to kneel directly beneath her father’s cross, Naram quietly caressed her pregnant swell. “Is this what you would have wanted? To see us adapt? Or would the death of us all earn your approval?” 

She wanted to believe he would understand her betrayal. When faced with death and destruction, she had chosen the path that would grant what remained of her family a future.  

Mere days after learning she would be made The Regent of Wonakaros, thoughts of her coming fate continued to swirl endlessly inside her head. Would her father be pleased that his bloodline would remain upon the throne, even if all Arkos bowed to The Empire? 

A realization left her feeling numb. She hadn’t known him well enough to guess what he’d think. He was a mere facade in her memory, a commanding colossus with nothing behind it. She possessed whispers, impressions, memories of cold commands with nothing solid to cling to. She had known the ruler, not the man. 

She would have liked to know him better. Now he was forever beyond her reach. 

Her tears had fallen. There was no going back. Cradling her belly, she prepared herself for the future. 

Glancing at the passing population, Naram saw her people going about their lives under the domination of their conquerors. Eastern Arkos and humans patrolled the streets in separate clusters, keeping their mutual enemies beneath The Empire’s control. 

A shriek echoed from one of the alleyways between the buildings outlining the circular plaza. The nearest group of patrolling legionaries rushed into the darkness. Naram watched from afar, her eyes widening as a young woman and an older warrior were dragged into the light. Both Arkos, what remained of the girl’s torn clothing made it clear she was a native of Wonakaros, while the man’s armor and sheathed blade identified him as a Narok warrior. 

Much of the young woman’s body was exposed, though Naram was too far to see the seed leaking down her thighs. The Arkos warrior’s cock was still hard. No doubt they had pulled him from between her legs. The warrior shouted curses in his native tongue as the girl continued to shriek. 

To her surprise, Naram recognized a Knight among the legion patrol. Nomax, the same Knight that had nearly caused a riot, wrapped his cloak around the girl and escorted her away. The Arkos warrior was held back by the others. 

Continuing to honor the strict orders of a man she had never before met, a human named Lord Clin, or so Naram had heard the legionaries discuss him, many commanders among the legion forbade the rape of the native population. The warrior was not a legionary, nor did he report to one of the commanders who upheld such restrictions. When a passing Narok patrol crossed their path, they forced the man into the custody of his own people. 

Naram knew the humans expected a harsh punishment, though they held no means of forcing their allies to obey without The God Emperor’s direct involvement. To her ample surprise, however, the Narok warriors acted without hesitation. There, in the light of the plaza, an Arkos sword castrated the grey man with a single slash. 

The warriors of Narok and the humans parted with nods of mutual respect. 

Together, they had crushed Naram’s people. She saw similar signs of respect all around her each day. 

“A curious display.” 

Naram nearly jumped at the sound of a deep voice behind her, recognizing the speaker instantly. Turning her head, she saw The God Emperor towering over her. “Forgive me, your majesty. I did not see you.” 

“External conflict breeds internal solidarity,” Dominax explained as he peered up at The Kromak’s corpse. His smirk faded before he reached down, offering a hand. “Such is our nature, and this world offers no shortage of enemies I may grant to my empire.” 

Accepting his grasp, Naram was lifted to her feet. 

“There’s something I’d like to show you. Call it a gift.” He gestured in the direction of The Great Temple. “Come.” 

She didn’t dare to refuse. The God Emperor’s gifts were either great or terrible. Her new ruler led her from The Kromak’s cross. 

As they made their way through the vast city, surrounded by guards, they passed legionaries, Arkos, and slaves hauling supplies and weapons. Orderly preparations occurred throughout the city, for much had to be done before they could depart. 

There was no great rush. They would leave only when they were fully prepared to do so. Those not currently on duty were seen mingling with each other, humans moving about a city that had never seen their kind before its fall. 

Dominax chuckled to himself as they walked, his advanced eyes seeing a Privictis Knight pressing a grey lover against a wall much further up the street. An Arkos, a warrior of Narok, she wrapped her bare legs around the Knight’s waist and her tail around his armored thigh, willingly surrendering to his raw thrusts. The man had time to finish deep inside his exotic lover before they moved to bow alongside all those around them, watching their holy ruler pass. 

He sensed Arkos wombs filled with human hybrids scattered among the crowds. So too did he sense many human wombs carrying Arkos babies all the same. The Narok warriors and the legion were housed in separate sections of the city, though the mingling between them had vastly increased. In time, they’d stand united as one beneath his throne. 

Pleased, The God Emperor marched on. No doubt there would be a boom in the hybrid population among both species when their purpose in the desert was done. 

Entering The Great Temple, Naram followed him into one of the annex structures. Her father had possessed no need for a dungeon when the city was empty. When his Capital was flooded with the population during festivals, criminals were either swiftly executed or beaten before being released. Her new ruler, however, had repurposed one of the slave dwellings into a small secret prison. The tiny chambers lining the corridor had been turned into cells, locked behind reinforced doors. 

Glancing through the steel bars of a window in one of the doors that allowed the Truthseekers on guard to observe the prisoner inside, Naram saw a human. Naked, he was huddled in a ball, weeping while his body displayed countless fresh wounds. The next cell held much the same. 

“Old friends from Fask,” Dominax told her coldly, offering no further explanation. 

She didn’t dare to ask where they were going. Remaining silent as they walked, she knew whatever fate awaited her would arrive regardless. The Truthseekers guarding the dimly lit hallway watched her from behind their emotionless masks. 

At the very end of the long corridor, The God Emperor came to a stop. One of the masked women wordlessly unlocked the final cell before moving aside with a bow. 

Naram’s ruler gestured for her to enter. She felt her heart quickening. 

The faint light of the corridor poured into the dark cell. Finding the courage to step inside, she gasped. “Okaros?” 

“Naram, child?” An old voice echoed weakly inside the cell. Dressed in tattered rags, her father’s most trusted advisor rested against the far wall.  

For the first time since departing on her failed mission, she beheld The Kromak’s Voice. “Yes, yes, it’s me. I thought you might be…dead.” The old Arkos wasn’t alone. Peering around the cramped cell, she saw The Keeper of The Bones and The Elder of Desert Crossings, among others. Those who had served her father closely, those she had believed were lost, peered up at their dead ruler’s daughter as if she was their divine savior. 

The God Emperor’s voice came in a deep rumble from the doorway, making the collection of old men tremble. “I have no further use for them. They are yours to do with as you see fit.” He turned away, leaving her with her gifts. A gesture summoned the Truthseekers to follow him. 

“What has he done to you?” Naram asked when he was gone. She knelt before Okaros, looking him up and down for scars she did not find. The old Arkos had been a constant, albeit distant, presence in her life since her earliest memories. 

Okaros didn’t bother to answer. Instead, he took hold of her wrists. “Your father…your sister…Wonakaros…all is lost. You must live, child of The Holy Kromak. You must…resist.” His voice fell to a conspiratorial whisper. Their nearly naked guards had departed, though he remained cautious. “You must fight these filthy humans. You must-” 

“No.” Naram interrupted him harshly, yanking herself from his grasp. The thought of speaking in such a tone to a revered elder a year ago would have been unthinkable. “Apologies, though you don’t understand. There is no resisting them.” 

The old men around her appeared horrified by her words, though she continued with urgency. 

“The God Emperor has seized the desert in his grasp. If we resist, if we rebel…” She shuddered at the thought, shaking her head. “There is but one path forward.” Thinking of Karak, she spoke with determination. “I’ve been named as the regent of Wonakaros. Please, for the sake of our people, help me.” 

They looked at her pregnant swell. 

“Guide me forward, for there is no going back. Help me rule. For the sake of my father’s memory, aid me in serving the humans, else they’ll crush us all.” Her grim tone eased. “This doesn’t have to be the end. Offer me your wisdom, and I shall do all I can to keep what remains of our ancestor’s ways alive.” 

The elders began to whisper among themselves. Finally, The Kromak’s Voice spoke. “Is there no other way, Naram, child?” 

A shake of her head crushed their resolve. “Not from a cell. I’d have you advise me as you did my father.” She rose to her feet, the daughter of a false deity attempting to appear regal. “We must adapt, or we shall fall.” 

Her offer hung before the old Arkos. Behind Okaros, a tiny hole went unnoticed. They knew nothing of the hidden room adjacent to their cell. 

Through the hole, Nafalya watched. She listened. As she saw the old man struggle to his feet to join Naram, The Grand Mistress of The Hesian Order smirked. The others followed his cautious lead. 

Nafalya knew her father would be pleased to know that his final test had succeeded. 

43rd of Fonic, 22 AVE. 

Kingdom of Wonakaros, Holy City of Arkos-Tul. 

“I’m not sure about this, Yisi…” Vixin muttered. 

Hardly did her lover listen. She had spent too long preparing for this night to stop now. Their shared bedchamber was lined with hundreds of candles placed against the dark walls, the light licking their naked bodies as they sat together upon the bed. Salduin tended to Jinilya and Yisi The Younger in his separate quarters to grant them privacy. Deep into the night, Yisi knew none would disturb them. “Lie down.” 

Vixin eyed the golden chains that were fastened to the headboard, awaiting her wrists. “I don’t think I’m quite ready.” 

Gradually, the frequency of their lovemaking had returned to normal. They spent each night savoring each other’s gentle touch, though no further. “It’s been more than five months,” Yisi said. Seeing the hints of a hurt expression upon her lover’s pretty features, she realized her tone had been blunter than she had intended. “That’s not to say that you don’t deserve all the time you require. I meant only that…ah…” She pressed closer, resting a hand upon Vixin’s thigh as she started over. “You’ve coaxed your powers, and you’ve returned to court life. I am proud of you, though still I worry.” 

Vixin closed her legs, flinching at her touch. “This is hardly one-sided.” She could certainly recall more than a few nights where she had held Yisi while she wept for Kixsi. “I too worry.” 

Displeased with the direction of their conversation, Yisi chose instead to press her serious lips to Vixin’s. She let the princess taste her. When Vixin pulled away, she advanced. 

The princess endured her kiss. She inhaled softly when she escaped, only to be met by Yisi’s lips once more. Vixin couldn’t prevent her heart from fluttering, nor the warmth that lingered between her clenching thighs. The quiet bastard girl vanished, giving way to her aggressive lover. Despite her reluctance, she blushed. 

Yisi left her breathless. She offered a rare smile, brief and faint, when at last they parted. “Please.” Her tone held more worry than lust. 

Temptation guided the princess’s hand to her lover’s thigh in return. Despite her lingering need, the memory of her miscarriage made her pull away with reluctance. 

“Merely try. If you truly feel that you’re not ready, I’ll stop. We could use a word,” Yisi offered, thinking on her feet. ‘Stop’, ‘no’, and ‘please’ were hardly uncommon phrases during particularly intense nights. “Something that, if I hear it, I promise to truly stop.” She narrowed her eyes in thought. “It must be something neither of us would accidentally utter.” 

“Rosila?” Despite her emotions, Vixin couldn’t keep the hint of a teasing smirk from her lips. 

Yisi’s serious features hardened further. “That’s not funny.” 

Vixin dared to chuckle. “Apologies.” Feeling as though she now owed her, she sighed and pressed closer. In the light of the candles, she softly rested her head against her lover’s shoulder. “If you promise to stop…perhaps.” 

The pleasant smell of her black hair, the feeling of her soft thigh against her own, everything about the princess deepened Yisi’s yearning. The ache between her legs increased, a distraction she required just as much as Vixin, in truth. “I promise.” She scowled. “Even if you must utter her name to stop me.” 

Biting her lip, Vixin considered the proposal. Temptation battling against her reluctance, desire swelling to consume recent horrid memories, she finally glanced back at the chains upon the bed. With another weary sigh, she nodded at last. “I trust you.” 

Yisi offered no hint of her deep relief. Instead, she kissed her princess deeply before slowly guiding her to lie down. 

Vixin’s quiet girl became her mistress, a transition that had long become natural. She offered no resistance as Yisi forced her arms high above her head, locking her wrists into the leather cuffs at the end of both chains. Her sorrow, her grief, every emotion remained as a dull echo, though they were pushed back by the feeling of being bound again after so long. Her thighs quivered with excitement against her will. 

“Spread them. Now,” Yisi commanded. Her lover obeyed. Seeing Vixin part her legs, she departed the bed and reached under it. Fastened to the bedframe beneath, a chain waited. She pulled it up over the side of the bed, locking her lover’s ankle tightly in its attached cuff. Moving to the other side, she did the same with a second waiting chain. 

With her legs held as far apart as her exceptionally flexible body would permit, Vixin clenched her thighs. When the chains didn’t allow her to move an inch, a submissive moan slipped from her reluctant lips. 

Yisi saw the tremble of her royal body. “You need this.” She felt her own dampness lingering between her thighs. “As do I.” 

Vixin didn’t grant her the satisfaction of a reply. She didn’t intend to surrender entirely, yet. The sensation brought a strange feeling of guilt, for her excitement betrayed her grief. 

Moving slowly, her svelte hips swaying, Yisi crossed the room and retrieved a small box. Indeed, she had long prepared for this night. 

Watching her torturer approach, Vixin bit her lip. “What are you planning?” 

“Something familiar,” Yisi replied coldly. Returning to the bed, she knelt between her lover’s spread legs and placed the box beside her. She patted the lid, leaving it closed for now, a threat of tantalizing possibilities. “First, I’d see what’s mine.” 

Naked and helpless, the bound form before her was a piece of divine artwork. Her bondmate, her lover, her sister, the perfect body on display made her yearn. Yisi dragged a finger slowly up her helpless thigh, her bound legs the precise shape to coax the desire of any who beheld them. Soft, smooth skin was at her mercy, savoring every inch until her finger brushed against the royal labia of the princess. 

Vixin’s hips gently lifted at the tiny stimulation. Her body’s yearning ache was not restrained by her grief. Every inch of her craved to be dominated, to surrender to whatever awaited her. 

Sliding her hands over her lover’s curves, Yisi’s lips parted in absolute lust as she was enthralled by her bondmate’s perfection. She caressed her midriff, worshiping the body of a living goddess. 

They were bound by blood. Yisi felt Vixin’s body calling out to her, sister caressing sister. Never had she been particularly in tune with the powers she had inherited from The God Emperor, yet she could sense Vixin. It was a faint feeling, small and subtle, yet she felt their familial bond. Her fingers explored her sibling’s body, making Yisi utterly wet. 

Seeing the signs of ample arousal clear upon her lover’s pretty face, Vixin chuckled. “Well? You insisted. Are you going to keep me waiting?” 

“Hush.” Yisi shot a stern scowl. Returning her attention to the naked form on display, her hand glided down Vixin’s belly and settled between her royal legs. She brushed her thumb gently over her labia, feeling two petite, pink, moist lower lips. “I’ll never grow accustomed to your perfection.” 

Vixin offered a loving smile, only for her lips to part as her lover’s thumb brushed over her clit. Clenching her thighs in her bondage, the reminder that she was completely at the mercy of her torturer coaxed a soft moan. “Yisi…” 

Disapproving of her impatience, she pulled away, ceasing the stimulation. Forcing her victim to wait, untouched, she took ample time opening the box before reaching inside. When she pulled out a metal cylinder, Vixin’s thighs quivered knowingly. 

Yisi made a show of holding it on display. Made of white steel and bearing the symbol of House Vaid, it had become a familiar tool of pleasure since their first moment of intimacy together all those years ago. She let her lover’s anticipation linger, dragging out the process of removing one of the cylinder’s rounded ends to reveal its hollow interior. 

Vixin’s growing arousal coaxed her guilt, feeling as though she disrespected her grief by allowing it to be pushed aside. Her bare chest rose and fell with eager breaths, her helpless body stretched and ready to suffer. 

Every second of delay was an eternity, yet Yisi was in no hurry. She carefully retrieved six vibshirs from inside the box, the strongest of Vixin’s collection. Stroking them, feeling each beginning to vibrate intensely, she slipped the colorful slugs into the cylinder one by one. After pouring the orange liquid the creatures required into the cylinder, she sealed the tip once more. Holding it for the princess to see, she let Vixin watch the vibrating cylinder linger above her vulnerable groin. “So reluctant, only to become so eager. I know you too well.” 

Vixin’s breaths quickened. When her lover at last brushed the cylinder between her lower lips, she tried to hold back a moan at the intense vibration. 

It was only a taste. Yisi pulled it away. Quietly delighting in her lover’s desperation, she briefly ran the cylinder over her needy sex once more, leaving it for a second longer. “I wonder if you deserve this.” Her stern expression remained. 

“Please,” Vixin asked. The word was polite, though far from desperate. She fought to keep her calm facade for as long as possible. When Yisi held the cylinder firmly against her clit, her lips parted. 

Pressing, holding, she kept it against her lover, watching her hips rise. The intense vibrations tortured her most sensitive area, making Vixin squirm in pleasure. When she pulled it away, her princess groaned. “Look how sensitive you are.” She offered a faint smirk. 

Vixin’s silver gaze remained locked upon the cylinder, her loins begging for more. It hung an inch above her sex, taunting her. “Please.” The word held hints of her aching need now. 

Caressing her lover’s thigh with her free hand, Yisi offered her mercy. She traced her royal loins up and down with the buzzing tip of the cylinder, watching her hips buck whenever it passed over her clit. She felt Vixin’s leg quake beneath her grasp, hearing the wet sound of the vibration as her juices soaked her vulnerable loins. 

Bound, helpless, Vixin moaned as her womanhood was tickled by the intense vibration. Her guilt grew to match her rising pleasure, coaxing thoughts of Anthara and her lost pregnancy. Despite her sorrow, her eyes fluttered, feeling herself drifting towards her finish. Her bliss was a merciful distraction as much as it was a betrayal, reluctantly permitting herself to sink into her ecstasy. 

Yisi knew her well. She teased her sensitive bud, working to build her pleasure without overstimulating her too intensely. The pretty vagina before her was entirely within her control. If she wanted her to cum, she would. If she didn’t… 

Vixin groaned as the vibshir cylinder was pulled away without warning. Nearly able to taste her orgasm, she felt it slip from her grasp. “No…” she muttered in frustration, feeling a surge of submissive feelings pulsate through her as the chains held her firmly in place. 

“Did you think tonight would be quick? Simple?” Yisi shook her head, taunting her. “I’ve waited too long for this.” 

“If you expect me to beg…ahh…” Vixin’s words were stifled by a moan, feeling the vibshir cylinder return. It rubbed against her petite clit, the rounded tip slowly circling her sensitive bud to ensure every aching nerve tasted its torturous vibration. “Oh…yes, Yisi…” 

She didn’t stop. Yisi continued to tease her, drawing out her pleasure as she guided her back towards her climax once more. Just as she had the first time, she didn’t permit it. 

Vixin couldn’t help but buck her hips as the buzzing cylinder was pulled away. Biting her lip, she groaned in utter submission as she was denied once more. Tiny contractions clenched inside her needy sex, her body crying out in frustration. 

Again, Yisi brought her to the edge of her release. Again, she forced her to squirm when she pulled away. Tonight, her body belonged entirely to Yisi. She would pluck the princess’s worries from her pretty head and replace them only with thoughts of submission. 

“So desperate,” she said, running two fingers between Vixin’s aching labia. She held them up for inspection, seeing a string of her juices hanging between her fingers as she parted them. “Are you ready to beg?” 

Vixin clenched her thighs at her words, lips parting with a desperate breath. “Please, Yisi…” 

“You can do better.” Yisi returned her fingers to her royal sex, lightly dragging them between Vixin’s perfect lower lips. A deep wetness lingered between her own thighs, savoring the knowledge that the soaking vagina she lovingly caressed belonged to her sister. 

Biting back her pride, Vixin obeyed. “Please, let me cum,” she said softly. Blushing hard, she pulled lightly at her bindings, feeling utterly helpless. “I’ll do anything, Yisi.” 

“Yisi? Don’t you mean mistress?” She glided her fingers inside her waiting tightness, watching her lover gasp at the intrusion. 

Moaning, Vixin felt her fingers beginning to thrust inside her. When her lover’s other hand returned the vibshir cylinder to her clit, her body trembled in pleasure. “Ahh…please…let me cum…mistress…” 

The time to slowly coax her enjoyment was at an end. A hint of cruelty filling her stern gaze, Yisi’s fingers moved without mercy. In and out, thrusting hard and fast, she felt Vixin’s twat squeezing around her intrusion. An utter expert in everything regarding her lover’s body, she knew precisely where to strike to make her hips buck. 

Helpless, moaning, Vixin could do nothing but endure as she was roughly pleasured. “Let me cum…ahh…please…let me cum…” 

The satisfaction Yisi felt at making her lover submit did not coax her mercy. Concentrating, she faintly sensed Vixin’s pleasure. Knowing exactly when to pull away to make her victim burn with agonizing frustration, she stopped just before the princess could reach her orgasm. “No.” 

Squirming, feeling her loins screaming with desperation, Vixin fell deeply into the grasp of her submissive nature. She moaned loudly, a pitiful whine of pure surrender. 

Yisi maneuvered to hold herself over Vixin’s bound form. Watching submissive bliss swirling in her lover’s silver gaze, she seized the princess’s chin. “If there is one thing in this world that remains true, one thing I will never allow the chaos and war around us to change, it is this.” She held her face close to Vixin’s. “You…are mine.” 

Vixin’s eyes widened as Yisi forced her mouth open. Dazed in her bliss, a princess becoming an eager slave, she didn’t dare to shut her lips as Yisi spit into her mouth. 

“Swallow.” 

Tasting her lover’s saliva, Vixin greedily obeyed. Utterly dominated, she felt as if she was floating in her chains. 

“Good girl,” Yisi whispered. Their father could drag them across the world, crushing anyone that stood in his way, yet never would she lose Vixin. Until her dying breath, she would cling to the woman she loved, the only world she truly cared for. 

Their lips met, crashing together as Yisi lost herself. Her dreams of freedom were gone. Kixsi was dead. Her daughter would grow to be little more than a womb to The God Emperor. As everything seemed to be crashing down around her, only her lover’s taste was her sanctuary, aggressively kissing the woman she loved as if she could consume her. 

Surprised by her aggression, Vixin offered no resistance. Her loins tingled maddeningly between her parted thighs as she was left wanting. Every inch of her body screamed for relief, squirming as she dueled with her lover’s tongue. 

When at last they parted, Yisi held her chin once more. “Open.” When her command was obeyed, she continued. “Don’t swallow this time. Hold it upon your tongue until I give you permission.” 

Vixin eagerly nodded. Mouth open and waiting to receive her gift, she watched as Yisi spit, letting a string of clear saliva dangle from her lips. Vixin’s entire body tingled in utter submission as it descended slowly upon her tongue. 

Yisi spit a second time, then a third for good measure. Pulling away, she returned to the box and reached inside. Retrieving a gag, she offered a rare chuckle as she secured it around the princess’s head. 

A muffled moan escaped Vixin, resisting the urge to swallow. Her bondmate’s saliva coated her tongue, sealed inside her mouth. 

Pleased, Yisi returned between her desperate thighs and wasted no time in resuming her work. Lowering herself to behold the beauty on display, she began to lick at her lover’s throbbing sex. 

Sister tasted sister. Vixin didn’t swallow as she was pleasured, her muffled whimpers echoing with absolute ecstasy. 

Yisi stopped to prevent her from cumming, only to press the tip of the cylinder against her petite folds. With a push, she glided the vibshir cylinder inside the royal vagina she intended to torture. 

Vixin writhed at the sensation. Feeling Yisi’s tongue join her torment again, her hips rocked with pleasure as her lover licked her clit. 

Her body burned with a maddening need that only increased each time she was denied. For a moment, she was safe from her thoughts and grief, becoming little more than a writhing body. Her world became agonizing pleasure, restricted in tight chains as she uttered muffled cries each time Yisi pulled away. 

She couldn’t beg. She couldn’t utter a word, entirely at the mercy of the buzzing cylinder as she continued to taste Yisi’s saliva. The symbol of House Vaid displayed on the side of the cruel tool slid inside her royal vagina, drenched in her juices, only to be pulled out just before she could reach her climax. 

Her flawless body trembled. Vixin melted into the sheets, her denial nearly as blissful as a true orgasm. Yisi knew her better than any other living being, knowing exactly what she desired. 

Tingling, aching, her loins were an inferno of desperation. She wanted to beg for mercy, willing to utter whatever humiliating words Yisi required. Instead, she could only moan. 

Lapping at her royal sex, Yisi greedily drank her juices. Nothing on all of Ayphieal held a sweeter taste. 

Minute after minute, denial after denial, Yisi remained enthralled by her torture. At long last, however, she lifted her head to meet Vixin’s maddened gaze. “Did you swallow?” When she received a frantic shake of her lover’s head, she offered a faint smirk. “You’ve been a very good girl. Go ahead. Swallow, and I’ll grant you permission to cum.” 

Vixin’s eyes widened. Obeying, she eagerly drank what remained of the saliva upon her tongue, her gift. 

Yisi slid the cylinder inside her once more, teasing her clit with her thumb. She watched her body writhe, a sight more intoxicating than any other. 

The long march towards her orgasm began anew. This time, however, Vixin whimpered in delight as nothing appeared to stand in her way. Moaning, squirming, she lifted her hips as her pleasure gradually reached its peak. 

Finally, a bastard girl allowed an imperial princess to cum. Vixin’s entire body shook as every sensitive nerve inside her loins screamed in bliss. 

Yisi hurried to settle at her side. Feeling her naked body rubbing against hers, her smooth skin wet with perspiration, she pressed her lips to the princess’s ear. “I love you, Vixin,” she whispered, a gentle sound in stark contrast to her domination. Never would she deny it. 

She didn’t remove the cylinder. It continued to vibrate hard inside her, drawing out her climax. While Vixin’s hips bucked and trembled, Yisi reached down to caress her lover’s flat belly. 

“Tonight is only the beginning. Enough with these dark days,” Yisi said with a tone more bitter than she intended. 

Vixin breathed hard through her nose, finally breaking from her climax as she endured the relentless vibration. Her heightened sensitivity in the wake of her deep orgasm was a torture she utterly savored. 

“I know what you need.” Yisi’s fingers traced over her royal womb. “A slave. Perhaps another Arkos like the one we enjoyed in Arkos-Nu.” Her tone was softer than usual. “If it will make you happy, I’ll watch again. I’ll remain at your side while you take the cock of a stranger.” She’d do anything to see her break from her gloomy state. “I’ll watch him cum inside you.” 

Through the fog of her consuming pleasure, reality prodded at Vixin. Despite the warmth of her naked sister at her side, despite the cylinder endlessly buzzing inside her loins, she felt her thighs clench with a reluctance she had nearly forgotten. The seed of the Arkos slave had granted her a hybrid. Her little Quilith had been her latest successful birth, her womb having failed the child that would have followed. 

Her sanctuary began to crack, permitting her memories to trickle in. 

“I know my touch will never be enough. Not alone,” Yisi stated plainly without bitterness. Such was simply a fact she had long accepted. “A hundred men. A thousand. I’ll watch you enjoy them all. I’ll remain at your side each time they fill your womb with the seed you crave.” 

Vixin strained in her chains once more. No longer was the vibration a pleasurable torment, but an unwanted sensation. Her words were muffled, yet her memories were not. Her womb had failed. She began to struggle against her bindings to escape. 

Gently caressing her squirming body, Yisi held her tightly. “I’ll watch this belly of yours swell with their children.” 

A muffled word came through the gag, yet her lover didn’t notice. A muffled cry. A muffled name. 

“My Goddess of Fertility,” Yisi muttered, her tone dripping with desire. When she noticed a wetness gathering in her lover’s eyes, she swiftly sat up. “Vixin?” 

The gag was quickly ripped away. Vixin didn’t hesitate to cry out. “Rosila!” Her chains rattled. “Rosila!” 

Yisi’s heart nearly froze. Remembering her promise, she hurried to unlock the princess’s wrists and ankles. “Forgive me…forgive me…” She returned to her side, wrapping her arms around Vixin as her royal tears began to trickle down her cheek. “I thought…but we were…” 

Vixin quickly pulled the cylinder from inside her and tossed it aside with disgust. Wiping her eyes, she placed a hand upon her empty womb as her grief swelled anew. Her pleasure had been a mere curtain hanging before the memory of her miscarriage. Yisi’s words had pulled it aside, and the memory was right there at the front of her mind, her emotions as fresh as the night it had occurred. 

Their moment had gone terribly wrong in a matter of seconds. Shocked, Yisi could do little but remain at her side. 

“Apologies,” Vixin muttered after several minutes, regaining control. “That was…strange.” 

The Goddess of Fertility feared to fall pregnant once more. Holding her lover tightly in the low light of the swaying candles, Yisi’s worries deepened tenfold. 

44th of Fonic, 22 AVE. 

Kingdom of Wonakaros, Holy City of Arkos-Tul. 

Thousands had fallen to claim the desert. Countless would live in the new world they were creating. History itself had forever shifted, yet Lalian gave no thought to the great collision of civilizations occurring above him. He didn’t think of their victory. 

Beneath the ground, he wept only for one. 

“I’m sorry…my love…” 

Anthara’s body rested in her temporary sarcophagus. Beneath an undecorated lid of smooth stone, her mummy was preserved in Saitha. Her beauty would remain, yet all she had been was forever lost. 

Lalian knelt beside her sarcophagus. Inside the chamber directly beneath the throne room, its curved walls had long become familiar. He ate. He slept. He did the minimum of what was required to live, though otherwise he spent his days languishing beside her corpse. 

The sound of descending steps echoed from the stairs. Salduin’s steps were heavy. Vixin’s were light. The only other person who frequently visited him had steps that were somewhere in between. Though he knew Dominax could move silently if he desired to, the echoes of his steps were intentional. The God Emperor announced his presence without words. 

Lalian didn’t move. Dominax joined his side, saying nothing. He rested a hand upon his friend’s shoulder. Hardly had they spoken during his misery. No phrase would break his sorrow. Instead, his daily presence held back Lalian’s solitude. 

“You know why I’ve come.” The God Emperor’s tone was low, breaking the silence they had long grown accustomed to. “We march tomorrow.” 

Lalian nodded. “She asked me to bring her home.” 

Dominax’s grip tightened at the misery in his friend’s tone. “It’s time.” 

He didn’t respond. They remain in silence together. 

“You helped me return to the land of the living when I was lost. I would do the same for you, my friend,” Dominax vowed. 

Lalian shook his head weakly. “I…I don’t believe I can.” 

Dominax pulled his shoulder, forcing Lalian to look at him. He wore no armor. No crown. For a rare moment, he was simply a man. “Anthara was a worthy being.” He had said many such things in the wake of her death. None had managed to help the green man. Now, they were out of time. “I could tell you to rise to honor her memory, or for the son you share, yet I know you shall eventually. I could even tell you she wouldn’t want to see you wither away, though you already know that to be true. Instead, I would ask you a question. What did she die for?” 

Lalian met his silver gaze. 

“That superior mind of yours preserves everything. Tell me, what did she live for? What did she fight for?” 

He swallowed, tears wetting his green eyes. Every memory, every word, every kiss, every fleeting moment they had spent together was forever burned into his mind. Never would they share another. “S…she’ll never see the result of what she fought for.” 

“No. She won’t. Yet you and your son shall.” Dominax glanced at the other side of the chamber, seeing where Hesin’s sarcophagus was temporarily stored. “Many will never see the result of all we’ve built, yet our work remains incomplete. I shall not permit their deaths to be in vain.” He thought he saw Irith and Briza in the shadows. Blinking, they vanished.  

Lalian wiped away the tears trickling down his cheeks. He hung his weary head. He wanted to give her death meaning, yet she had died in the land she hated most. 

“Anthara sought a better future for your species. Tomorrow, we shall march to create that future.” Dominax rose to his feet. “I need you at my side, my friend. I need you to rise.” 

His hands rested limply in his lap. “I’m tired…Dominax.” Decades of memories were at his fingertips. He could recall moments of great elation, yet also great sorrow. He touched his head weakly, feeling old for the first time, truly old. “I’m so…so…tired.” 

Dominax nodded knowingly. “No amount of rest can cure such a feeling.” His features hardened further. “When I returned to Nitri, I was lost. You found me. You showed me that my purpose was incomplete.” He peered down at Anthara’s sarcophagus. “All she fought for, all she died for, is far from done. You’ve achieved more than most living beings ever shall, yet your purpose remains. Join me in taking the jungle, Lalian. Let us grant the land she loved a future she could be proud of.” 

Lalian peered up at him. “I…don’t have the strength. I told you. I’m not strong like you…like her.” 

“Then I’ll offer you the same words you once offered me, my friend.” His tone was low and genuine, almost human. “It takes time to rise. Until then, do not languish alone. Permit me to bear your burden.” He reached down to offer his hand. “Come with me. Let us finish what we started in the jungle, together.” 

Lalian eyed the hand on offer. His own hung limply. He glanced over at Anthara’s sarcophagus, knowing what she’d want him to do. 

With thoughts of his lost love, his son, and his duty to both of them, he dared to lift his hand. It hovered, reluctant and tired. He met Dominax’s silver eyes, a broken man peering up at his friend. 

Finally, he accepted his hand with the last of his strength.

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