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ᴀꜱʜᴇɴ ꜰʟᴏᴡᴇʀ || ᴘᴀꜱꜱɪᴏɴ & ᴅᴇᴠ

Devils Temptation

Planetoid
Joined
Jan 14, 2021
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Land of Flowers


Here, the earth breathes softly,
its skin covered in a living tapestry of color.
Each blossom opens like a whispered secret,
revealing its heart to the sky.

The air is thick with the scent of life,
wild and unashamed,
and the wind moves gently,
as if careful not to disturb the fragile beauty.

In this place, time forgets to move.
The petals fall slowly,
not as endings, but as beginnings—
a cycle of quiet rebirth.

This is a land where sorrow cannot root,
where even the stones are cradled
by the soft embrace of green,
and all that blooms, blooms forever.





Ash, blood, and the sounds of pleading screams. There were few hallmarks as potent in war as the scent of death. Oftentimes, that stench and noise clung so tightly to the survivors that it followed their every movement and thought until their very last dying days. Unfortunately, that was hardly the worst aspect of it all. Those who perished in a battle were oftentimes the lucky ones. Those that remained? Soldiers that lived were a commodity. Refined gradually through one Hell-like battle after another... each and every single one culling off more and more. Some might have described it as a blessing to make it from one battle to the next, others would refer to it as a curse. Everyone that fell lingered somewhat on the people who remained. Every ally, every family member, every life taken hung on like a ghoul to the backs of those who treaded onto the next day. With everyone single departed, that weight only grew heavier and more bitter.

That desire for revenge only grew stronger.

The hatred only seemed to seethe more, as if everyone taken had collectively aimed their grievances into the remaining few that survived.


If he closed his eyes, he could remember them. Those flowers. Clouds above like pure wisps of sugary floss. Brisk, chilled that slipped into his lungs like a fresh sip of cold water on a hot day. If he kept his eyes closed for too long, that sight was inevitably replaced by the sight of something else -


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-

Ash, blood, and the sounds of pleading screams.


"You must understand, don't you?! Just like with us, that foul bitch stole everything that was precious to us! You must have been a good man once, you must have seen what the Empire leaves in its fucking warpath!" Pleading words from a hoarse throat, the palm of an older man clenching the chest plate atop himself. Numerous scarring had woven down the entirety of his facial features, a carve to his lip, a nick to his ear... an eyepatch lingering over his left eye likely after being lost in battle. Saddled against the right half of his chest were numerous medals and honorable accolades from his time in battle, but in that moment he had been steadily tearing them off one by one. Each and every single one was cast onto the ground with another thrust.

Each one at the foot of those black greaves that stood right in front of him. Torn and shattered apart. Stomped furiously as if every shove of his heel would smother the actions that had awarded him those medals in the first place. Pleadingly, he wrapped his hands together and lowered his forehead to the younger raven-haired knight in front of him.

"Why are you throwing all your awards onto the ground? They're the evidence that your loyalty belongs to the Empire. In this world, where the Empire is the one faction that rises above all... you're casting away everything that gives you value." Calmly, with a tone like pure ice, the younger man knelt and picked up the stomped down medals. Five of them that had been torn off the side of the older soldier's jacket. Nestling them into his grip like a delicate bouquet of flowers, he shoved one back onto the man's chest.

"Battle of Nightfall Creek. You bravely lead your cavalry amongst a larger force of infantry and completely eradicated every man in the platoon. To the point that the entirety of that tribal nation's population collapsed and was assimilated over night." One instance of genocide. Not too unusual, for the Empire's tactics. Feeling through the other medals, he picked up another and smashed it next to the first - right back on top of the knight's chest.

"The Siege of Kyraust. For fourteen days and fourteen nights, you sat valiantly at the gates of the fortress city and starved out every man, woman, and child within those walls until - by the end of the siege - the city you entered was so famished and broken that you could count the number of families that survived could be counted on one hand." Smudged the medal with his thumb, he moved to a ribbon next... preparing to award it back to the night once again before his wrist was clenched.

"Please... you know. You know why it had to be done. I live with those mistakes every day of my life... I have had enough. We need to stop the destruction - the loss of life. Somewhere, deep down, you know that too! Do you remember?!" One more plead to the younger knight's sensibilities... a tremor of happiness flickering along the older man's expression when he saw the knight's eyes flutter close and that faint hint of stress to clench against his jawline in a look that was equal parts pensive as it was introspective. Yes. He understood it well... the Empire was the strongest of all the nations on the continent. Spearheaded by an Empress with ultimate control and power over the whole of her empire, they operated through a system of warfare and assimilation. Neighbors and borders were constantly being raided and overtaken. Those who survived the bloodshed were given a place in the Empire - after all, it was a society that put strength above all else.

Former royalty. Generals. Anyone who could have even an ounce of value to the Empire was inevitably assimilated into their territory and their political system. They were given a place in the machine that continued to devour and take in all of those around them who were too weak to defend themselves. He was no different. The former prince of a small, mostly passive nation in the North - a place known for its flowers and a holy site for many. The type of country that one would have never expected to be raided and razed. He remembered it clear as day, when the first regiment of cavalry trampled past those meadows and set one of his villages aflame. The first of many. No amount of pleading or diplomacy would have absolved them - the Empire needed complete control of that small little nation in order to solidify a glaring hole within their borders... and so? They killed everyone that had once been in charge, they left no one but those that could be incorporated.

Out of the nearly fifty-thousand that had been living in the Principality of Floara, one hundred and fifty people survived.

Out of those one hundred and fifty who survived, one hundred and thirty were enslaved.

Nineteen were conscripted into the Empire's army.

One had been given a place among the generals of that Empire.

Prince Tyre Floara VII

A young man that had risen staggeringly quickly amongst the ranks of the Empire as a genius tactician and a fearsome general in war - capable of employing both brutal and courageous tactics while also handling himself with grace and eloquence. Soft spoken at the right times but strong and firm in the others.

When his gaze fluttered open once more, a bittersweet look lingered in his inky black eyes while his gaze remained cast down to the remaining medals on the ground. "You asked me if I remember... I do. Every time I close my eyes, I remember." Solemn, soft words that dripped a sense of understanding at the man's plight. ...And, for just a few moments, there was such an overwhelming look of relief atop the man's expression until the sudden --


CRUNCH.
SPLATTER.
SMACK.
One smooth draw of the sword at his hip, drawing one slice vertically along the man's neck to cut straight through his throat and decapitate him cleanly. A faint splash of blood danced along the tip of that blackened blade to dust Tyre's right cheek and before the head had fully rolled atop the ground, he would catch it by the hair to hold it in front of himself all while that splatter of blood wasted all over the discarded medals below.

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"It is precisely because I remember that injustice that I cannot let a sloppy rodent like you get in the way. Do you understand that? You and I are not the same. You lost the moment you tried to strike at the pillars supporting this Empire." Dropping the head atop that fallen body, Tyre would let out an all too gentle laugh for how brutally he had offed the man beneath him.

"There is only one thing that you should've struck. Her Highness, the Empress." That was the only damage that would do anything worthwhile. Swiping his blade off to the side, he let a slick arc of blood splatter onto the ground off his weapon before he sheathed the sword and turned around with one flourish of his cape to make his way out of the barracks where the two had been speaking to one another. It was a simple, poorly thought out plot from one of the more senior generals to recruit Tyre into a coup to overthrow the Empress.

One that failed miserably because of how laughably sloppy it was...

Seemingly from the loyalty of one of her subjects.

But...

That could not be further from the truth.

Tyre would not bother to report this incident to the Empress, however. Something so insignificant was not ultimately worth her time, he had deemed. Indeed, there were countless attempts at rebellion from within the Empire that assimilated all those that it had once declared war on and crushed beneath its boot. In that sea of those who it took under its mantle, there were many who wished to enact revenge. The larger the Empire grew, the more unstable it became. The more common these attempts had become.

Every day was another attempt to overthrow the Empire and the powers that sat atop the throne...

Every day was another failure.

They were sloppy. Their resolve was not ironclad enough. He would show them what it really meant to overthrow an Empire.




There were many pitiful attempts that oftentimes missed the ears of the Empress, but the one Tyre thwarted a few days prior was too momentous to not be heard of, whether through advisors or through traveling gossip - he would've inevitably been summoned to the royal capital to explain why he had kept secret his merciless execution of a senior general. The Royal Capital was a bastion of a city, built atop such profound hordes of gold and riches that some described it as the cradle of Heaven. No less was expected of the one woman who forged the entirety of the Empire, who ensured that all those riches - all that power - all the talent would funnel back into that one city that sat at the very center of the empire.

Tyre had arrived immediately upon being sent the letter demanding his audience to the Empress. Fresh-dressed in similarly dark colors, not a single blemish or hint of mess anywhere along his faintly pale features. Nor was there any type of concern on his expression. Keeping such information from his superior officers, in itself, could have been seen as treason. That he merely killed an accomplice that had gotten too sloppy. Treason was met swiftly with execution. In spite of it all? He merely lifted his index finer within the handle of that tea cup, bringing it to his lips for another leisurely sip until an attendant entered the waiting lounge and gave him a brief salute before announcing firmly.

"The Empress will see you now. Please leave any weapons within the lounge. They will be handled delicately and given to you upon your return!" To which Tyre had grasped the sash holding his sword to his hip and lifted it high enough to sling his arm underneath it and settle it down atop the table. With that, he followed the attendant as he was lead through those massive halls. Past several lines of infantry and numerous royal guards... and then finally brought to the towering red gates of her Highness' throne room.


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He had seen those gates only once before. One mere week after his country had been razed to charcoal. When he was forced to meet the Empress' summons and she immediately took him within her army and her country... a night that replayed in his head time and time again. Silently, he treaded towards those gates to push them open with one hand and proceed into the throne room. Exactly five steps. No more, no less, before he settled into a kneel atop that red carpet and in front of the throne.

"My Empress. You have called and I have answered. Please allow me to apologize for keeping the execution of General Garm from you - I wished to lessen your work by keeping the squashing of an insignificant bug from your attention." Holding his head low, he kept his fist on the carpet and kept his other arm folded behind his back - not daring to raise his head to her. "I will accept any punishment you deem fit for my actions." Insignificant. To describe the killing of one of the most affluent and powerful generals of the Empire insignificant was nothing short of amusing. Yet, he had always been like that. No matter what problem she may have had - no matter how overwhelming or how soul-crushing it felt to resolve... he always remained in her shadows and swept it all up. Every single time.

Even this coup was no different. All of it was resolved before she even had a chance to lose a single second of sleep to the thought of it...
 
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The Nyxoria Empire
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Through storms and fires, our resolve does not wane.
With every battle, our High Empress reigns.
If the world becomes hers, it will become ours.
Blessed and cursed by the gods, may she live long.

- The Red Army




Nearly everyone knew the story of Veah Valeth as word traveled far regarding the modern tragedy. King Theron and Queen Elara ruled the extensive and prosperous kingdom of Aethon. Under their rule, many deals were made in favor of the powerful kingdom, but there was peace, just as there was generations before King Theron's rule. While many envied the rulers of such a successful and powerful kingdom, the King was without many enemies as he cared for his people and neighbors. Not much was known about the personal lives of the Valeth family other than Veah.

Some say a dark cloud was cast upon the capital city, Caldara, the day Veah was born. For the longest time, no one could put their finger on why Veah was so unsettling. During public events, when the entire royal family was together, the public was drawn to the cold darkness the young girl had. It contradicted her lively blonde hair and bright silvery blue eyes. Her parents did their best to conceal it. Only dressed her in bright summer colors to try to hide it away, but everyone stared. Something about that girl wasn't right. It caused rumors to spread throughout the kingdom. Veah was called everything from a demon, a disturbed child, to nothing more than a ghost. Poor Veah hadn't done a single thing wrong, but perhaps everyone could sense her looming dark fate. Much of it went over her youthful head, but it didn't for the King and Queen or their six other children. Especially as Veah became older. She spent hours talking to herself, refusing contact, and her room became cold enough to defy logic.

One day, seemingly out of the blue, a renowned oracle from the far-away island of Nimara ventured to the Kingdom of Aethon with a warning for the King. She told him of the visions of death, misery, and tragedy that all followed his youngest child. Not only that, the oracle warned that Veah had been cursed by the dark goddess, Xemva. It was foretold she would forever be haunted by the presence of Xemva, which took the form of a malicious spirit. Veah was cursed, haunted, and doomed; a lost cause.

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All it really took was the name Xemva to drive the King to act. In the middle of the night, he took his daughter further west than she had ever been. Some assumed it was beyond the outskirts of the kingdom. Unable to kill his own daughter, the only mercy he could offer her was a chance at life without her royal ties. A chance at life that would alter the lives of millions.

It was said, that much like a lost and lonely dog, Veah made the grueling trip back home. No one to help her as her father put out a public statement that Veah had been disowned. She was shamed, abused, and misled as she made her way all the way back to the capital city to be told she was not welcome. Despite her coldness, Veah was not heartless. It was said she cried outside of the castle until the exiled princess was swept away, only to be led to a faraway forest to rot. - Such a sad and pitiful story of a young girl, one that many could feel bad for poor Veah, but while her body did not decay, the princess' sanity and heart sure did as the whispers of Xemva comforted her and gave her the strength to not only survive but to fight.

She would make her trip back to the capital city again, but this time without tears. Knowing the castle well, she managed to not only slip by the royal guards but change the course of history. With nothing more than a dagger and Xemva's guiding words, somehow the then-teenage Veah managed to slaughter her six siblings and both the King and Queen. Many wonder how, but that wonder would turn into shock. In trying to protect the royal family from Veah's cursed fate, they rolled out the red carpet from their rejection.

When Veah took the position of Queen, she used all the resources of Aethon to betray all peaceful agreements and treaties her father had set up or honored from his father to destroy and conquer. It was easier than she expected to see how quickly everyone folded into what would be deemed the Red Army. Although the soldiers wore armor of solid black with silver accents, they had gotten their name from the red of both blood and fire. Veah and her army rarely asked for surrender, they simply took control. The best anyone could do to avoid the ruthless Red Army was to step out of the way and follow along. To let the Queen have whatever she wished. Those who dared to protest were sent to an early grave as well as everything they loved.

Just as the world had shown her little to no mercy, she made sure to do the same.​

By her early twenties, she had conquered enough land and resources to grant herself the title of Empress. Combining all her land and resources, she named it the Empire of Nyxoria. Colors of black, silver, and an iconic dark magenta were the Empress' colors. Her emblem was depicted as a black flame on a dark pink background shaped like a diamond. It symbolized both her wrath and matriarchy, and those of any worth to her had this emblem on their person, or at least a hint of her royal hue.

While the Empress forcefully took power, not all was bad under her rule. She knew to have a successful empire, she needed a healthy population. It would be nice and easy to simply enslave them all, but after taking part in several gruesome battles as well as witnessing her own resolve as a disgraced child, Veah learned that the human spirit could not be underestimated. She had seen some brave souls outnumbered, their homes and families turned to ash, standing there gushing with blood from injuries, and yet some still refused to give up hope; it was both inspiring and horrifying.

She couldn't crush the spirits of millions, and so she had to keep a balance. In the back of her mind, she often wondered why her own family couldn't have such hope for her, even an ounce of what she saw on the battlefield, but perhaps it was because the oracle was correct. Even if she did keep the empire under good rule, no one would forget what she had done to get where she was at and the fact she had no plans of stopping.

So many hated her. They thought she was a monster. The disgusting goddess of Xemva in the flesh. They called her The Reaper. Mistress of Tragedy. Fair, but she didn't much care. The day she was born, she was hated, and she was sure she would die that way too, but this time, she was the one with all the power.


"He was the prince of Floara, Your Highness." An older man with a thick mustache explained with a book in hand, all written in his handwriting. "Based on the reports you read, you kept him alive since you were impressed with his knowledge of warfare during the battle against his homeland. He was sent to work with the generals after he completed training." The training was more like conditioning. More or less, he was promised safety and care as long as he devoted his life and loyalty to Veah. As cruel as she was, she did hold up the deal. He had gotten anything and everything he wanted within reason. He just would never have his home and lost loved ones back. "The military division reported that he had both loyalty to the High Empress and promising knowledge in logistics and combat."

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The Queen of the Empire, now in her mid-twenties, sat upon the fallen king's throne. His red flags were torn down years ago to be replaced with her signature hue and emblem that loomed above and around her. "You would think I would remember reports about a prince." Veah rubbed her forehead with a few fingers. She was irritated more at herself than the situation.

"Worry not, High Empress. You keep track of so much. It amazes me every day how much you remember and do." The short, round man with a cheery face looked down at his book filled with notes. She wasn't the only one drowning in information. There was so much to keep tabs on and to consider when running an empire. This was especially hard since, as much as Veah wanted to, she couldn't do this all herself. In a way, she was trying. She was often near burnout as she struggled to extend any trust. Why would she? She knew what hell she had and continued to cause. Not only that, based on her background, why would she trust much of anyone? At least there were a few. Much like her bookkeeper and advisor, Dorian.

"May I make a suggestion, Your Highness?" Dorian carefully questioned.

"Speak."

Dorian cleared his throat. "If his explanation is acceptable, I suggest that you ask him about the Reds in the North. He should know that area well." Veah tensed in her seat at the thought alone. A large group of her soldiers had gone missing in the northern wilderness which was an area unknown to the Empire. She had hoped they had found more communities to raid, spreading her power and influence as they worked on redrawing the map of the continent, but she should have heard something back by now. "It would be a good way to test him or at least possibly get some helpful insight about the North. It wouldn't hurt, Your Highness."

"He killed one of my generals, you idiot! He might purposely give me false information," Chances of forgiveness were slim, but she had to know why he was so bold to do such a thing. While she had taken so much from him, she still did give him a shot at another life. Much like her parents had done to her, although they were better off killing her. "At the same time, I might as well try to get some information. I'm pretty good at spotting deceit these days,"

"You are so incredible, Your Highness! If only I could be as perceptive as you!"

The doors of her throne room would open, and once they did, two royal guards in black armor neared the platformed throne to protect the woman inside. There she sat with her advisor standing nearby. Despite the natural tension in the throne room, the room was at least a few degrees cooler. The rumors were true about her supernatural chill.

She did not move from her seated position, and her cool slivery blue gaze remained fixed on his form. "I am sure you are a wise enough man to know that the heart of the Empire is in the Red Army." An army that proved to be unstoppable as it continued to rapidly grow. "And you think that you can get away with not reporting the death of one of my generals? Not only that but to be the one to kill him yourself?" The situation reeked of treason. "Explain why I shouldn't make an example out of you through public execution." The death of a prince for killing a respected general? That would surely make some waves.​
 
Cold. The chill was something Tyre had been used to, the North had been as unforgiving a land as it had been a beautiful one - but he despised the chill radiated by the Empress. Unnatural and merciless, like the cold crush of a glacier. It was not unusual for most men to shrink back in her presence upon meeting, particularly on the first time she had met them. The younger general was different, however. Not only had he not shown a reaction to her presence on their first meeting... any subsequent meetings thereafter had a likewise calm and collected kneel in her presence. Conducted with grace and with a level of stability that felt just as unnatural as her own crushing aura. To some, it might have been respect but the real reason was far more basic. Fear to her was admitting the same as he had lost. Crushed under her foot and assimilated. He would never fear her. To do so was to admit that she had broken him.

She had not and she would never until his dying breath.


You think that you can get away with not reporting the death of one of my generals?

"Why?" There were only two responses a woman like her should have been receiving. An answer. Or an apology worth his entire fucking life. That ingrate of a response made the royal guards stir to apprehend him, just for Tyre to lift his head up further to glance at her legs. "I would not report a dog being put down to you. Nor an insect being smashed under my foot. In the same sense, I did not report Garm's execution to you. Poor as it was, he attempted a coup. Garm was beloved enough within his own ranks - even a single locust can start a storm if enough join. And so, I acted swiftly and ended his miserable life. If not me, someone else would have. As such, I did not think it important to report." It was just an inevitability. The delay on the report of his death, on the other hand, was intentional for his own purposes. In that brief window of a power vacuum, it was easy to see who panicked and who did not. It was easy to identify those that had been riding on that very same plan. Tyre required those men for his own purposes.

Explain why I shouldn't make an example out of you through public execution.

"I will always be useful to you, Empress. That is the raw truth of the matter. If you have enemies, I will crush them. If you have lands to conquer, I will offer them to you. If your governance is stretched thin, I will enforce your rule. That, of course, means my life belongs to you as well. I care little about anything else but offering you value. You are already surrounded by a multitude of fools whose only job is to bow their heads to you, clap their hands together, and not take action. You do not need me to say that to you, I am sure, but I am not them." Insulting words to those advisors closest to her, or the officers that directly reported to her... and perhaps that was by design. Perhaps she was a fool who only wanted to be surrounded by yes-men who would lather her in praise and attention so she could feel better about the way she ran her Empire.

Ultimately, Tyre had not cared. Had her advisors been proficient, she would have known about the coup. Had her soldiers been loyal, the information would trickle back to her. Had her network of information been working as intended, she would not have blinked twice on the news of Garm's death. The prince had made his presence known, his intentions likewise... and had pulled the ire of everyone in that room at the same time. "I apologize if I have spoken out of line. As mentioned, I will accept any punishment for omitting this information to you, my Empress." Smooth, softer tone but there was that hint of deeper possessiveness when he spoke of her in particular. While his gaze never rose above her knees, he was not looking at anyone aside from her. She had the entirety of his attention in that moment, nearly as if there was no one else in that room aside from the two of them.

No worthless advisors. No cushy soldiers that had grown too comfortable in their incompetent status as royal guards. Just the Empress and her general, a man single-mindedly loyal to her cause... and a man that did not shrink so pathetically in her presence, running to pleads and begging - saying whatever he thought she wanted to hear.
 
For the empress to remember someone, they had to make a pretty big impression. She saw too many faces and cared for very few of them. He had been a face in a crowd; maybe he even directly spoke to her, but she wouldn't remember. Everyone to her was just a pawn, but she still needed the strongest and wise ones on her side. However, this pawn managed to cause just enough waves to get her attention, whether he wanted it or not. If he said the wrong thing, he would be reaching that dying breath rather soon.

She had questioned him, and he responded with a question of his own. The way she lingered in brutal silence would tell him that she was not satisfied. He explained himself, and the empress listened to his side of the matter.

To hear of a coup was not much of a surprise, but it did get a tad irritating. Sure, maybe she ruined the lives of many, but she did make sure they had warm beds and food. Yeah, that didn't quite help; she tore families and dreams apart, but she could actively make their lives a living hell if she really wanted. This was her only mercy. "A dead man can't talk. I would have kept him alive so I could find out who else agreed to join in on his treason. He was stubborn, but I know how to make someone talk." She would let out a sigh of disappointment more than anger. "You should have reported it, you fool." She would pause for a moment in thought. "Or maybe you are trying to make a fool out of me, and you are bold enough to lie right to my face." Had he killed one of her generals in an attempt to weaken her forces? She had no reason to trust him, but things weren't adding up. He needed to have a sound mind to make it to general, and he was being too confident. His voice didn't tremble or have a fake tone to it like a liar's would.

Slowly, the woman would rise from her throne. She smoothed out her dress, ever so casually while he made his claim of value. Every day, men promised her the world for various reasons. They didn't want to die, were attracted to her, wanted money, or wished she would stop her reign of terror. Everyone had a motive. For a prince, she assumed it had something to do with getting some kind of title back. Even if that wasn't one of royalty.

"It is easy to talk. Easy to promise the world." She placed her hand on her hip and let out a sigh. "If you weren't once a prince and didn't successfully make it to general, I would slaughter you. You have given me enough reason to." In other words, she didn't like his response, but there was no 'right' answer in this situation. Still, since he was once a prince, he not only might end up turning into a political tool but possibly had knowledge others didn't have. From being better educated to having a royal perspective that not many had, it was worth giving him a bit more thought before sending him to the center of the capital city to be killed.

She took a step closer. "Although stupid, I do respect your bravery." Most in his situation would be on their knees sobbing. She hated the weak, but as a woman in power, she also hated the rebels. "Due to your past title and bravery, I will give you one chance to prove yourself to me. If you fail, I will make an example out of you." After all, action spoke louder than words, did it not?

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She couldn't put her finger on it, but she could hear it in his voice and sense it in his stature that there was something different about this one. He had earned her curiosity, which was a blessing and a curse. "I will test if you were worthy of your promotions and, even more importantly, your life." She would walk down the stairs, and a cool breeze would chase after her; it clinging to her although never seen.

"Follow." Her coldness was gripping as she walked by him. Veah would lead him to a door on the left, which connected to a large hallway lit up with torches. Far down the lengthy hall was the war room. An overwhelming large room where generals and advisors would often meet around tables, maps, and diagrams. For larger events, the empress would join in instead of being filled in or spoken for, although up until now, Tyre had blended in.

She would glance over her shoulder to check if he was walking behind her. "How well do you know the North beyond my current reach? I am sure you heard about division 14." A group of Reds had gone missing to the north. While not too much had been said, it had become a growing concern. It was hard to know what the empress was thinking about it too—if she wanted to recover her troops or leave them and move on.

When they arrived at the room, it was aglow with candles and the midday skies. Stretched upon a massive table was a map with plenty of figurines and markings. "Theorize how 5,000 of my men went missing while exploring the north beyond my boundaries." She didn't know what was out there, and that was why there was a group traveling through the north. Of course, they would conquer whatever they came across, but something had backfired. It had been over a month now, and there was reason to believe some undocumented threat, whether that be a community or nature had intervened.​
 
Every step she took towards him, another flare of irritation began to build. Too close. The further she ventured to him, the more the reminders started to lurk. Something vile hung behind such a gorgeous little package. Violence well beyond anything he had commit to, a merciless nature that single-handedly warped him to be something far more cutthroat. Perhaps he could not do it. To remain by her side for anything more than a few moments... to get close to her and inevitably plan her downfall. Even in him, there was this sick sensation in his core upon her presence. "Very well." Ah. All it really took was one moment of thinking back and remembering. What was he fighting for? What was left? Nothing. In that sense, it did not matter if this demon beside him devoured him fully. No one would miss him if he was gone - it was just a revenge that would grow dull and dead.

There was nothing to lose.

That something that was different in him was that exact conviction. Tyre would trail after the Empress, making sure to keep a steady distance away from the woman - a fool might've taken that opportunity to lunge at her. For a moment, he had even considered the thought of it. A pair of hands around her throat. What sort of expression would she make? Could he taste her fear and submission for once? It would have been so sweet. That bitter chill had not bothered him. Not like it had others who surrounded her. He had grown up in the North, a place so painfully cold that one could feel their bones aching from the chill and their tears freezing had they made the poor mistake of letting the air get into their eyes. Even her glance was met with his own raised gaze, direct eye contact to assure her he was right there behind her.


How well do you know the North beyond my current reach?

"I know." Tyre stated, leaning against the table and scanning over the territorial boundaries. Some were just blatantly incorrect, but he had not expected her to care for that. "I know the people. I know the languages. I know of every threat that lurks up here, every boon likewise." It was his home. A home that he ended up stealing from him. Her question, on the other hand, was met with an amused grin. Theorize? Now how did she want him to do that? There were any number of reasons they could have perished without proper context. Winter may have settled in and frozen them through. The lack of food would have made them turn on each other. Tribals in the area might have picked their meat through and left their bones to freeze in the snow. Tracing his gaze up the last known route, he trailed around to the other edge of the table where he could easily reach the top-most edge of the entire map.

"Do you like flowers, Empress Valeth? I adore them quite a bit. Even in the harsh, merciless conditions of the elevated North, they find a way to flourish despite the odds. No -- it may be more accurate to say they flourish precisely because of the harshness of the conditions of their birth." Gaze rising as he admired over her figure. Every curve and ridge of her body, as if she had been that flower that flourished. Tyre despised her, but by the same breath he also respected her heavily. She had survived. In a time and a place where all expected her to be rotting in the dirt from before she had any power at all to defend herself with.


"I do know what happened to them, though. Unfortunately - they are all dead. Currently very likely being used as nutrition and fertilizer."

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The prince would oh so casually state, sealing the fate of those five thousand men as if it was a single brush off his shoulders. "As the voyage into Northern lands grows increasingly more difficult, men start to crave warmth and safety. To the point that hallucinations begun to run aplenty. One may just beg and hope in their mind that they could just so stumble into a warm clearing and lay down for a few short, blissful moments. The people of the North are not the most dangerous. It is the flora and the fauna that will eat someone whole. I suspect the entire troop is lying somewhere, rotting in one of the fields of Everwinter Blossoms." One by one, his fingertip would tap along seemingly random locations over the top of the map. "One. Two. Three. Four -" One meadow after another of a flower she had never heard of in her life.

"They lure in hallucinating, weakened men. A normally pure white flower that exudes an incredibly high amount of heat - remaining blooming even through the winter. They're predatory. Human bodies generate quite a bit of heat as they're broken down. The nutrition nourishes the white flowers, turning them red and causing spores to expand the meadow. The cycle repeats all over again, with the flowers flooding more hallucinogens that are carried down wind to the colder region of the mountains where it lures more unsuspecting prey up to the meadow to be eaten all over again." No one would ever find them because anyone who sought them out would have very likely ended up walking right into the meadow themselves.

It was a never-ending process.

"Is my answer satisfactory, my Empress? I would present one of these flowers to you, but getting one's hands on them and returning alive is rather... difficult. There are some locations you can see the meadow from far enough without being sucked into their siren call." Trailing around the table once more, he stood at his full height in front of Veah now. Chest to head - a faint moment where his stature was overwhelming even hers. Broad shoulders that blocked her view until he settled into a kneel in front of her again and once more she was allowed to rise over him. "Tell me what you wish for. I will grant it to you. Is it the territory they failed to claim? To bring back their skeletons? Do you wish to have an accurate map of this area? All you need to do is speak your wish. I will grant it to you." Tyre reached forward, offering his palm to her - the opportunity to claim even more. To see if that confidence was really warranted. To see if he could really offer her everything.
 
To all those who hated the empress, they often fantasized about her demise. It would be easy, right? Despite her curse, she was only human, wasn't she? It was questionable, although she still breathed the same air and ate the same food as everyone else. However, what would actually happen if she was eliminated? Surely, it would be safe to assume that a ruthless ruler like her had backup plans. Plans that would spring into action if she was ever assassinated or went missing. Her death would still find a way to terrorize the people who hated her. Not only that, the most efficient way to stop and change the impact she had made was to have her change it herself. If she was kept alive, she had the authority and knowledge to change the tides. She had the power to not only conquer but heal.

While many situations could lead to a group of men going missing, Veah seemed to believe it had something to do with the environment. Some unknown challenge. Not only that, but she didn't know the land far north. His insight could be helpful beyond this event. After all, the North had been the Empress' focus for the last season. If he was well-traveled and/or educated even further north of his home, his knowledge was valuable.

Veah nodded her head at his question; she did have an eye for beauty like many women. She listened and seemed to be fully engaged as he spoke. She knew by the lack of hesitance while he spoke that she wasn't being misled. Also, she knew it to be true, she had heard that some plants had to suffer in order to bloom, and it seemed to be true of the ones in the bitter North. Their beautiful suffering and will to survive weaponized the field of flowers.

It would seem her gut was right; it was the environment, but in a way she hadn't considered. She had never heard of the Everwinter Blossoms. For a moment, she thought about if somehow she could use these flowers for war, but playing with nature came with high risks. Still, it all sounded crazy enough to be real. After all, she had found it strange that no one, not even a message had made it back to the castle; the silence of the missing soldiers had been deafening.

The empress stepped closer to the table, eyeing the faintly traced outline of the north. She tried to picture what had happened as she looked at the crude map; that was so many men for flowers to claim. Something had to be done. "So, I am guessing not many live around this area. I'll have to consider it a no-travel zone. When we are ready, maybe we can find a way to set fires to the fields. Flaming arrows might work." There were more important matters to worry about first, but she grabbed one of the inked pens on the table and circled the areas he had pointed at, drawing an X in the center of each circle to indicate danger. After her last circle, she noticed him standing nearby. She turned to face him, and as a woman who was only a few inches over five feet, he easily loomed over her. She didn't think too much of it; after all, she was the most powerful woman in the world.

"I would want these flowers, for the sake of research, but I understand the danger." She shifted weight to her left foot as she ran her fingers through the roots of her wavy blonde hair, giving it a soft tug. The empress let out another sigh, something that she often did. She held her own quite well, but again, she was only human. It was hard to feel bad for someone like Veah, but easy for her advisors to understand that running an empire was no easy task. As present as she was in her castle, no one really knew much about her. It seemed all she did was work. She didn't use her powers to host parties or even take advantage of her title for her own sick amusement like many would assume she would. All she seemed to care about was control and power to the point she denied and tired herself.

He had kneeled, and the show of respect was appreciated by the empress, especially after his earlier boldness. She would place a hand on his; her touch was cold but not freezing. She had accepted him for now.

"A lot regarding the North has yet to be recorded by the empire. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but conquering the North and gathering enough information to utilize its resources properly has been proven difficult." Another sigh; in general, being a conqueror was difficult. "If you truly wish to redeem yourself and be in my good graces, you will help me not only map the north but also advise on how you would travel through the north based on its landscape." Maybe he would make a good tour guide down the line.

She turned towards the table again and grabbed the pen; she would offer it to him. "Draw, or at least mark areas you know of. I don't expect you to know them all." With her map nearly naked for the North and her already possibly losing a large group of men in the unknown region, she knew she needed to approach the North differently. The real question right now was how. - Maybe she should have tried to get a map and more information before turning his land into ashes. Oh well. At least she had him.
 
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Nearly as if he had been handed ice... the chill was a little unsettling even for a Northerner - instead of shying away, he would lean forward to tuck a kiss against her knuckles and keep his forehead pressed to the offered hand while he heard out her request. A little bit boring, but that too was indicative of the Empress. A woman that was equal parts calculating as she was calm and collected. Rising to his full height once more, he released her hand after a faint hint of his warmth was lingering over her palm. "My advice for the North is to not go to the North at all, quite frankly. There is nothing to conquer up there. Raw resources to acquire, yes - but no one to subjugate. Arable land is at a minimum and the only true way to survive is through hunting or a pipeline of rations." Tyre pointed out bluntly, looking at the top edge of the map. No known civilization was up there. Tribals? Yes. No countries, no kingdoms, no nations. Just a rag tag group of those that lived in the most extreme of conditions... on a lifestyle most would not even dare to touch.

...Or so he stated. The Empress did not need to know everything. Especially when it ultimately would not affect her...

Dipping the pen along reddened ink, he would - instead of marking - draw a line along the Northern border of the Empire where the expedition had gone missing. Circular, seemingly deliberate etches that formed one circle laid upon another. Six in total until it formed a clear topographical map and he would set the pen down once again. "They are easy to map in the sense they can only exist past a certain elevation. Their spores must be carried down, so they must exist somewhere high up. Those four peaks and their subsequent valleys are the ones to be wary of. You can follow it down to about the second elevation line before running the risk of being caught in the poison of those flowers." The general explained, tracing his fingertip a centimeter or so above the lines he had traced. Something done so casually... one might've assumed he was merely bluffing.

He was not. While she did have him, he had the entire accumulation of years upon years of mountaineering knowledge imparted to him upon his nation. Men and women that sacrificed everything in order to surmount the beast that was elevation. A world wholly unlike that of the lowlands that the Empire sat on. He doubted she would care much for that either. Only that it was applicable to her in some capacity. "Empress. Might I make a request? Assuming you have found my assistance beneficial and my loyalty a little more stable." Tyre paused for a moment, searching her expression before approaching her once again to lean against her side. Soft, warm breath nestling against her ear with that deeper, more soothing tone of the general. Men of war - especially those of the Red Army tended to have booming voices and boisterous personalities.

Those that lead charges promoted to the highest brass.

Weaklings were not permitted in a nation created through war and assimilation. The strongest survived. The weakest were ignored as miniscule, insignificant pawns.

"I quite adore flowers. In my opinion... some of the most dangerous are by far the most gorgeous." One wrong expression and a person's head would find itself rolling in front of her... maybe that was his mistake too. The leisurely, all too confident smirk that settled over his features while his eyes met her own. It was just the two of them here, he cared little for anyone else. Those words were meant only for her. "And so... I would love it if my Empress allowed me to one day... bring back one of these blossoms to her. Deadly as they are, they have their uses. And -" Another brush of warmth over the back of her hand as he passed her - only briefly looking over his shoulder for those last few choice words to graze her ears. "- you tend to find those dangerous, deadly blooms have the sweetest nectar. It requires a bit of finesse to extract, though you'll find I'm quite capable." Making his way to the foot of the table, that momentary heat that lingered in his tone and the way he grazed against her had all but eased into that icier veil between the two of them.

Pressing his hand to his chest in a salute and lowering his gaze to settle atop the territorial map with an all too bittersweet gaze, Tyre would wait for a moment - allowing the emotions to settle before addressing her once more. "Is there anything else I may do for you, Empress?" Tyre doubted he would be given a task too momentous. The all too cautious woman was cautious of him... though in time she would learn that he had saved her significant heartache by mercilessly offing Garm like that. Not all of his followers had been entirely rounded up, but they would have been in the coming days and weeks. Some men would jump at the reward. He cared little for that. Anything she could give him was already gone.

All that remained was what he could offer her... of what she would let him offer her.
 
How curious... If what he said about the North was true or not, did he not know her interest in the North helped protect his life? A wise man would have fibbed with a promised reward if she was to just listen to his rare expertise, and yet he gave her cold truth. "An honest man, I see." Yet he quietly boiled in distaste towards her, yet even if she knew of it, it mattered little to her. She wasn't there to be loved by her people, but she did expect to be respected for her efforts to unite the world.

"The entire North will be mine too one day. No matter how worthless the land might be. Everything will be mine, no matter how big or small." She had big dreams that… nothing and no one was saying or showing she couldn't do it. So that twisted dream of hers kept growing, consuming even her mind. With her overwhelming army and the fixation of a true conqueror, little stood in her way from making her power trip of a dream a reality.

Her cold gaze watched him map out the threatening areas, which would be helpful the next time she had her troops explore the north. With her limited knowledge, she brainstormed a few paths, but there were still too many unknowns for them to be entirely secure. After all, the empress wasn't looking to lose another chunk of her army into the unknown.

Her attention shifted from the map to him. She looked unimpressed that he had a request for her after she already felt like there might be foul play amidst. She remained silent instead of rejecting him, allowing him to speak his request aloud. She had not expected him to get closer, but the empress never showed fear. She had noted his bravery, and he continued to show it as he was now close enough to whisper to her. Carefully, she listened to every syllable that left his mouth. Silently, she studied his tone, vocabulary, and closeness. She was not used to anyone being closer than an arm's reach away other than her maids. He had not even asked for permission to approach. She knew she didn't have to correct him. Even if he came from the North, he did know better, and yet despite all the trouble he was in.,... he still did it. Her eyes glued to him as he made his way to the foot of the table.

The Empress grinned to herself, turning away from the map to face his general direction. "You dare to approach me, touch me, make requests, give me cold truth, kill one of my generals without reporting it first, and offer to bring me a deadly flower?" She ran her fingers through her wavy blonde hair. Was she dealing with a madman or a man of worth? "Oh, what am I going to do with you?" She was torn on how she saw one of her generals she knew almost nothing about.

"If you want to go on a suicide mission to bring me one of these flowers, I'd be happy to receive your gift to test the toxins and perhaps see what nectar you speak of." Veah had an eye for exotic goods. Often after conquering a land, it was one of her focuses if anything was left standing after the Red Army rolled through. "If you are to die on those flower fields, know that you die a fool, not a brave warrior of the empire." Cold, but she was trying to indirectly motivate him. She only allowed the best to work closely with her and her army. "I will offer you basic aid and supplies. If you wish to bring a few soldiers with you or some extra supplies, I'll grant you that." She wanted him to be successful. The Empress didn't stand for failures, and his own would reflect back on her, and it mattered to her even if no one else was looking. With all her victories, it was fair to say that the empress could be quite a sore loser.

"You are to think about if there is anything else I should know about the North, and you are to report to me directly with evidence of any treasonous acts you may witness or hear of." That meant he could request for her presence directly instead of scheduling a meeting or talking to one of her advisors. "If you are to be the hand of justice without me again, I will strip you of your title, and possibly your life." She fell into her cold silence for a moment, before her voice boomed with a question. "Am I understood?" Maybe he had been working in the shadows to help her, but she wouldn't know the extent of it. However, she did know that she was looking at a man who could help her shape her empire or a man who was utterly worthless to her.
 
You dare to approach me,
touch me,
make requests,
give me cold truth,
kill one of my generals without reporting it first,

and offer to bring me a deadly flower?

"Yes. I figured a coward would only suffer in this moment so I wish to make it clear how much I may do for you." He doubted he was out of hot water yet. Rather, apologizing and stepping back even slightly in that moment and he was sure that it would be his head rolling on the floor. To try some ratty behavior with the most powerful woman in the Empire with mild groans and complaints of... Oh, you misunderstood me... or ...Of course not, I was just trying to please you! She did not need to hear that nonsense. How many men came through these gates just to kiss her ass and lick her feet without much in the way of results? Too many to count. Tyre would remain silent and allow her to mull over the thought of what to do to him. He would offer nothing in the way of a suggestion, nor would he make any attempt to rise again until he finally laid down her judgement. Judgement that, much to his relief, did not involve his head rolling on the ground. To be completely blunt... he already knew full well he would enjoy the nectar.

It was a taste of something she already quite enjoyed. Blood. Rich, sugary blood that left the taste like a ripe fruit. Tyre held his tongue from that harsh retort and merely opened his eyes to gaze upon the floor in front of her as she mentioned dying a fool and not a brave warrior of the empire. Did she know? That was not a threat to him. There was no honor to be had in a land like this to a ruler like her. Only the mere thought of falling into obscurity, having not accomplished anything, was something that ultimately bothered him. So much so that it made heat start to SCRATCH at his skull and the faintest tremble of anger to clench on his knuckles until they went white.

He would not die being irrelevant.

He would not vanish being nothing but a mild convenience to her.

HE WOULD BE FUCKING HEARD BY HER BEFORE HE WOULD EVER BE REMOVED FROM HER SIDE.

...

Another deep breath before he finally raised his expression. None of that cold fire that burned below his eyes showed itself along the rest of his expression. Perhaps, merely, only what she would see was the fire of a passionate soldier ready to serve his country. "You are too kind, Empress. However... I will go alone. There is no one else in this Empire that knows that territory aside from me." She made sure of that, after all. A few loose slaves here or there, but that was all. Digging them up would hardly be worth the time spent. Supplies could be used, but he doubted the outing would take anything more than a handful of days. The less he packed, the better. The less time he spent in that harsh winter or that high elevation, the better. Men who packed in order to brace the winter were the very same men whose bones paved the ground when the coldest of those days struck.


you are to report to me directly with evidence of any treasonous acts you may witness or hear of
If you are to be the hand of justice without me again, I will strip you of your title, and possibly your life.
Am I understood?

A pause as he finally rose to his full height and turned to lock eyes with her once again. "You are understood." Tyre replied back, continuing to lock eyes with her in silence instead of turning away or averting his eyes. There was so much he still wanted to say to her. So much he wanted to make her feel. So much he wished to put her through. "Empress Valeth. I quite dislike weak men. They're rather easy to control and manipulate but inevitably they are like the rotten core to the center of a tree." Pacing around her, he would maintain adequate distance before he stepped into the corridor at the foot of the conference room and settled his hand over his chest in a salute. Shadows would fall over the right half of his face, the glint of his raven-dark eyes glaring straight into her own with an uneasy intensity. "...If you so say the word, I would happily execute and pluck the rot for you, my Empress. Please remember that." Remember that I am not like these worthless men you surround yourself with.

"Will that be all, my Empress?" He asked, waiting patiently to be dismissed by her.
 
"Good," she responded regarding being understood. The empress didn't play games, and she had no intention of repeating herself. She didn't know where he stood from strength, loyalty, and honesty. She couldn't be certain when it came to anyone around her other than a few. She knew of her crimes and the hate, and so she was ready for the man before her to betray her. She would get her use out of him and send him on his way if that be back to his duties with the empire in mind or into the afterlife; that fate was up to him.

When he spoke of the weak, she nodded her head in agreement. "Unless they are mere civilians, there is no place in this empire for weak men. I'm disappointed daily." If it wasn't weakness in strength, it was in resolve. Veah expected respect, but how easily men bowed to her had become boring, although expected. It was very rare that a man she threatened the life of had enough of a spine to not drop to their knees and start begging. It was pitiful, annoying…, and worthless to her and her cause.

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As he moved, her gaze followed. He would make her an offer of his services, and Veah couldn't help but grin. "Prove to me you aren't part of the rot; then maybe we can talk." He spoke about weaklings, yet other than being brave and managing to wiggle into the title of general, he had not proved to her personally that he wasn't one of them. She would wait to see if he delivered the flower(s), and she would be doing a deeper dive of research on the Northerner to see if he was just talking out of his ass. - If anyone could break a man, it was her.

"Yes, that is all. You are dismissed. Find me once you have something worthwhile to tell or show me." She would then walk directly towards him. A cold wave of unseen but felt sinister energy followed her, brushing against him as she walked by him to go back the way they came. If he was silent, he would hear a strange hissing sound emitting from the haunted woman.​

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Back in her throne room, she saw Dorian waiting where she left him. "Follow." With a polite nod, he did. Leaving Tyre to find his way out while she and her advisor walked through the opposite end of the castle. "That man that came today, I need you to gather information on. I want his history, documents, interviews, combat and examination results, his personal chamber quietly searched, and I also want eyes on him for a few days to know his routine." She paused in thought; that should cover everything. "Gather as much information as possible to paint a picture of who that man is."

"Yes, High Empress!" The man fell quiet as he tried to think out the best method and who to contact to cover all his bases without getting his own hands too dirty. "He must have made quite an impression on you if he survived your meeting and you want this much information."

She kept looking ahead as she walked. Her heels clicked upon the polished floors as she headed towards her personal wing of the castle. "He is different." She paused, unsure what she even meant by that. "He is either a threat or beneficial. That is yet to be determined."



What would Dorian find?

He interviewed those around Tyre. Pulled reports and exams that had gotten him to the position he was currently at. He had someone search his room when he was busy. Dorian read books about the history of his kingdom. He had a few of the empress' assassins follow and study Tyre unless he had left right away to bring back the promised fatal flowers. - No stone was unturned as Dorian combed through everything he could to find out who Tyre was and if he had any obvious alternative motives.
 
Had Tyre anything to hide, he would not have moved to hide it. Following that unnervingly close encounter with the Empress, the general had headed North immediately alone. His remaining army was put on standby and his quarters were left completely unprotected. Testimony from his soldiers, searching his belongings, speaking to those who had directly interacted with the man painted a... very quiet picture. He had not been quite like the generals that commonly swarmed the Empire. Power-hungry tyrants that seized victories through harsh force and strategies so brutal that they felt like scorched Earth. Tyre had been a much more measured general, a man that was neither outspoken nor overwhelming from what others described him as. In all accounts, he was softer spoken. Demanding respect not through an iron grip around one's throat, but of a slow decay of their each and every defenses. Battles that were not even thought to be possible to win had been won by him and by the same extension, any promises he gave he had kept. Tyre's men were overwhelmingly loyal and reverent to their general. He was well-respected amongst his peers. Yet, there was always that underlying rhetoric about the man. That he carried himself with bared, hidden fangs at all times. He did not tolerate disloyalty nor weakness. Anyone who challenged him met the same end.

If there was a goal to accomplish, there would be nothing that could stop him.

...

That was all Dorian could find on the man. Anything about his personal life, any lovers he might have had, any family members that might have survived alongside him, anyone from his old life that might have remained? All of that was vacant. Tyre lived a minimal life stripped of any sort of valuable possessions as well as people of importance. Merely as if he had been some ghost that had entered the military and rose to the ranks in a mindlessly efficient manner. There was nothing concerning to be found about the man, but also nothing that would have been of use to Veah. Nothing introspective into his mind, nothing to hold over him for blackmail, nothing that could serve as an explanation into why he had turned out the way he had. There was absolutely nothing. The man was a completely blank slate.





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That mountain ridge had a name.

Barynkar - the Barrier. The top-most peak of where Humanity could survive, a place so brutal that merely breathing wrong for too long would freeze one's body through and crush ones lungs under the icier air. Tyre, just as promised, had left the Empire on a voyage nearly a week long to the North. The assassins would have been able to follow him to the point of the border, but once he had started to ascend the mountains there was no capability to trail after him. The man had taken sparse supplies and a single horse, but even the horse itself was left behind to to continue the journey on foot through the mountains. Perpetual storms had clouded the paths up the Barynkar Ridge, burying the sight even a meter or so ahead in a turbulent mess.

And, yet, Tyre forged one all the same.

Well beyond the point of no return, well beyond a point where humans were meant to journey to. The very same mentality that caused the young general to stand in the face of the Empress was the very same that forced him up that elevated path - there was nothing to be afraid of anymore. If he were to die, it was just the ridicule of a woman he cared little of. All that kept his nearly freezing legs from continuing that voyage was the thought of how he would make that woman submit.

Every step forward, another face in his memory. Another life slain and reduced to frost on the mountains.

Another splatter of blood that dyed those softer blankets of snow.

Another grave haphazardly filled not only with bodies, but with the culture and customs he had grown up with.

This mountain would not take him. This mountain was his home. And as if defying all odds, the icy chill clenching around him would soften to mere frost against his lashes and visible breath as he trudged past the storm and finally came upon a valley. Soft seams of warmth lingered around him and in front was a valley filled to the brim with white flowers.


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Flowers that preyed upon people, but that had not been the entire story. The Empire was a metallic beast that devoured and burnt culture and tradition, taking only people to suit their own values. One such tradition lost to the ash and gore of the battlefield in the last war. Dropping his backpack, Tyre took a deep inhale of that corruptive flowery scent that beckoned him down to an early grave. Grabbing at his fur-clad boots, he would pull them off alongside the thicker stockings and bare foot, he would start to descend into the meadow of flowers in the valley. Every step had small tendrils of writhing, flesh-like vines grazing against the bottom and sides of his feet. "Old friend. I have returned. I fear that you will not be visited very often from now... and for that, I apologize." Speaking seemingly to himself, he would kneel amongst the flowers and draped his arms around the warmer heat exuded by them. Knowingly, they did not swallow Tyre. They clung to him, embraced him for a few fleeting moments before he took it one step further and merely laid back in the field.

Eyes glued to the sky above. To faint flickers of flowers in his peripheral. A monstrous entity to some, the warmth of home to him.

If he just closed his eyes... it felt like he could go back to that time. A much simpler, sweeter time where the only warmth he felt was the heated gust of these meadows and not the fire that raged in war. Those days were long since over.




The assassins that had been keeping an eye upon the mountains would have to wait the entirety of a day for the general's descent. So much so that one had even gotten impatient and followed him up as well at the end of that first day... just for Tyre to return back down with a bouquet of flowers. A single prize for nearly losing his life - and hauled atop his other shoulder had been the body of the assassin that had impatiently attempted to find him atop the mountain to spy upon him further. "I care not that you have your eye upon me. However, to be caught by your target...?" Calling out at the darker clearing at the foot of the mountain, Tyre would unsheathe his sword - grasping along the back of the unconscious assassin's throat. He had not even made it to the meadow. Merely succumbed to frostbite on the mountainside where the general had found him. Failure. Pathetic failure, in fact. Tyre could not see any others watching him in the darkness of the night, but he knew they were there... and so he made a show of it. Plunging his sword down the chest of that assassin to cause them to seize and splatter blood up before being run through fully - heart and all - until they were lifeless and crumpled atop the ground. Tossing them by the wayside of the road, he would mount his horse once again and secured the bouquet.

"Take the body of that failure back to the Empress. You may explain yourself your own incompetence." Before another CRACK of the reigns would have the horse bursting into a proper sprint towards the Royal Capital once again.





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Balls were oftentimes an insufferable contest of whom could suck up to the Empress most often... but they were a necessity all the same. For a ruler to remain strong, to be seen as the pinnacle, she must have known the most powerful of her subjects inside and out. These were just some of the few occasions where it was easiest to gauge a person directly, without the need for separate audiences and ceremonies. The Empress was the prize the moment she was to step out into the ballroom. Men and women alike adoring the mere sight of her... even with that icy chill that accompanied her every move, or the cold barrier that prevented anyone but the most eager to approach her. Veah had her pick in a gathering like this, of whatever nobleman or noblewoman she so wished, she would be granted. It would have been a privilege to them.

As such, she was the one who would always start the first dance. To choose her partner, to kick off everything. All the respect in the room was demanded by her, all the initiative made by her... but before she could have taken her pick, something else unprecedented occurred.

"May I have the first dance, my Empress?" Towering in front of her once more was the well-dressed sight of darker fabric. Tailor fit fabrics adorned over top of a darker military outfit. On his right chest where the abundance of medals should have been emblazoned was a single, white rose that contrasted with the remainder of his fit. White glove-clad right hand offered the Empress an upturned gesture. The Empress would have heard of his return to the Empire two weeks or so after his departure, but had yet to meet with him... his arrival coincided with the night of that ball. Or perhaps he had planned to appear at his ball. Quietly, he waited for her permission and though glares of both jealousy and disdain bore into the back of his head, Tyre had not bothered to spare attention to anyone but the one woman his gaze had been buried into.

The flowers he had promised her had been sent ahead of time - safely stored in conditions that would keep them alive longest. They required an incredibly low temperature to stay fresh the longest, something that had been set up earlier prior to Tyre's departure. Perhaps she had time to see them but regardless, he had accomplished exactly what he had offered to the Empress. Tyre wanted his reward. That wolfish stare of their eyes meeting would assure her of exactly what that prize was.
 
While he was away, Veah went about her usual business: planning for her next attack, listening to the status of her population and resources, savoring some fine dishes and wines, hearing about the decoration plans for the coming ball, and falling asleep to the whispers of Xemva. Typical busy days for the Empress, and yet she caught herself wondering about Tyre. A waste of thought space considering the flowers nor his life was critical to her. Even still, the short but potent impression he made on her as well as the fact her research into him did not satisfy her curiosity made the thought of him seed into her busy mind. She wasn't sure what Tyre's fate would be, but she assumed he would perish while venturing alone.

While there was death on his mission, it wasn't in the way Veah had considered. One day a dead body was thrown before her in her throne room. She didn't recognize the face but knew the outfit. It was explained to her how the assassin had foolishly misjudged the brutality of the mountain. That Tyre had retrieved him just to make a statement by killing him. A message to the empress that her forces were infiltrated by weaklings. Weaklings that he claimed he could help pick out and eliminate.

Veah clenched her jaw. "Take him to Dead Rock." Dead Rock was a known and feared cliff that was just west of the capital city of Caldara. It loomed over the Aquora Sea. It had a drop that one would need to be blessed by the gods to survive. It was often a location of murder and discardment. She growled under her breath, "worthless." The failure of an assassin would not get a ceremony, and his death date was not even written down. The empress would scrub his name and his presence from her empire. After such a sentence, not even his family would be allowed to speak his name—His memory was a disgrace to the empire.

While she would forget all about the useless assassin, what stuck with her was how Tyre endured the merciless conditions and still had the strength to bring the man back down. Not only that, he punished him for his weakness of poor judgment and getting caught. It was another bold move, but it continued to set him apart from the others, which earned more and more of the empress' interest.

Soon after, it was revealed that Tyre, against all odds, had been successful. She had to see it for herself, and with the utmost care, she was presented with what he had promised:

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Everwinter Blossoms.



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The New Moon Ball fell on the darkest night of the month. While the moon was out of sight, the castle was alight with candles and chandeliers. Nobles wore their finest fabrics to dance and socialize with elegance. It was nights like this that Nyxoria Empire wasn't all violence. Veah knew fear alone wasn't enough to rule an empire, so she would give her subjects their fleeting happiness so they could continue to serve her and her cause.

On nights like this, those around her feared her less and instead were dazzled by her. Opting to wear a slightly more revealing dress to proudly show off her femininity, there was no doubt the heartless blonde was a showstopper. Her powerful presence alone was enough to leave someone breathless, but her beauty as a woman could also be stunning. As soon as she graced the crowd with her appearance, they stared and mumbled to themselves. Her position, reputation, and coldness kept everyone at bay, waiting for her to speak or to choose a partner.

Usually, she would dance with one of the high-ranked generals, an advisor, or even one of her often-ignored concubines—a small group of hand-picked men and women who often turned out… missing and replaced. Right before she could decide on a partner, a familiar face approached.

Her cool silver gaze locked on the face of the man who she had been wondering about. She was surprised he hadn't made an appearance since dropping off the body of a weakling and the beautiful but fatal flowers, but perhaps that was all part of his plan. There was no way she could reject him; she had to speak to him.

She would take a step forward with a click of her heels as her crimson lipstick-stained lips curled into a grin. "So bold once again, Sir Tyre?" That very boldness could lead to rewards or end up getting him killed; it amused her. Taking his hand, she caught that look in his eyes. A look she knew well; a predator-like hunger, often what she saw in her most ferocious soldiers.

"I will reward you for your successful mission with a dance." That was all she planned on giving—an honor to most. She would take his hand and walk with him to the center of the dance floor. With one hand in his, she wrapped her free arm around his neck. Their bodies were close, yet not touching, but he would feel her coldness once more. To be this close to the empress could easily feel soul-sucking. Her supernatural heaviness as well as the weight of her sins were suffocating to those who were too weak and frightened.

Together, they would have to find their flow and grace with each other and the music. However, the empress was hardly focused on the dance or the eyes on them; she wanted to speak to him. "I was certain I wouldn't be seeing you again." She didn't think he would survive, but there he was in the flesh. "Next you will have to help me with the nectar, and then I will forgive you for your crimes." The Empress hungered for an exotic taste. "But we won't worry about that now. You deserve a night of celebration." With how easily the empress could disregard achievements, it was evident she was rather impressed with her general.
 
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So bold once again, Sir Tyre?

"Am I? My apologies. I do not attend gatherings like these often in the Empire. The country I once hailed from - men are expected to request those they wish to dance with... and to handle rejection with grace." Not a lie by any metric, she had scoured his history extensively and true to what he had said... Tyre was not the type of general to go to balls. Nor royal gatherings. In fact, the man had forsaken them completely unless he had been mandated by some royal to attend. Clearly reputation and appearances were not something he ultimately cared for, quite a bit unlike the other generals she had grown accustomed to. Truthfully... the man had a goal. Not to kiss ass to these cutthroat autocrats, all he really cared for was coming across as reliable and respectable. So long as that was true it did not matter what the insignificant rabble thought of when it came to him.

I will reward you for your successful mission with a dance.

A thoughtful hum and the first hints of a warm smile that spread across his lips. Somewhat tender for how straight and blunt his expression oftentimes was. Nestling his fingertips along the edge of her palm, that icier chill to her skin was only met with a faint heartbeat of hesitation until he started to squeeze firmer over her hand. Where others may have had a respectful amount of distance from her, he adored that chill. Perhaps the only one thing he did love about her - it reminded him of the mountains. Of a brisk, cold depth that terrified some but for him only really reminded him of home. And, so, he had drawn a little closer. Faint enough that the warmth of his breath could be felt against her ear and though that iciness that reached her bones was many times perpetual - the somewhat shameless manner in which he kept her closer against his chest would offer the rare moment that another body warmed her. A foolish gesture, to hold her that close to him. Not a concern she had with many, either men were terrified of her or they were too cowardly to take the initiative... or the cold of her body genuinely displeased them.

Tyre would have paid a little more attention to the dance, swaying her body in smooth little turns and steps that layered perfectly on the beat of the orchestra that played in the background. Eyes forward, never straying from anyone aside from her. "Why is that? Did I say something that was unbelievable to you, my Empress?" The general pondered, pausing momentarily to slip his hands down to her waist and help her with a brief twirl before they started that four step rotation of the dance. "Very well - but I would advise you to pick a proper time. The taste is rather addictive. The flowers have pollen that lures humans into their grasp - their nectar has that same almost ambrosia quality to it. It will leave you buzzing with warmth. I will gladly taste it for you prior if you so wish." Poison was a coward's method out, but one that she had come face to face with often enough to know anything that went in her mouth should have gone into the mouths of at least two prior to her. A night of celebration, huh...?

There was a time when he attended balls like this.

When he had once been a prince. This was not foreign to him - he just had no interest in rubbing elbows with the Empire's top brass.

"Are you cautious of me, my Empress?" Briefly, they came to a pause in the midst of their dance for a momentary caesura to signify the second part of the dance. "I know your eyes are on me. But you will not find anything." Blunt words spoken right into that same piercing stare that met her eyes... as if mocking all the effort she had put in to scour him with a damn toothpick for even the slightest scrap of satisfactory information. "I have not built a home here yet. Or a life here. In many ways, I still look fondly back at those times in the past, nothing more than a sun-touched and flower loving prince. Do you want to know? About those days? About me?" Words spoken soft, within that intimate little bubble that they held between one another where any words were for only the two of them. One final move would signify the end of the dance, hands on her waist to lift her up and give her a single smooth twirl before bringing her in closer... "I do not care about glory, or reputation, or physical valuables. If you want to give me a prize - I want someone to talk to. I want to know more about you. Who are you? Not the stories... who are you?" Veah had been exactly what she told her subjects she was.

A goddess.

An immortal being.

A natural disaster that tore along the lands -- she was not a person.

...And yet, shameless as ever, he asked for exactly that. Not the grandiose war stories, not the lore of the Empire, he wanted to know who the woman herself was. Who was she? Everyone knew the Empress. No one had really known Veah herself. Setting her down, he took a step backwards and raised her hand briefly to press a kiss to the back of her knuckles once more. "Thank you for giving me your first, my Empress. I apologize for the closeness. I see now I am not as versed in the rather... distant way we dance in the Empire. I wish you a very enjoyable night." That warmth receded entirely and with one single bow - hand on his chest he would finally turn away from her. Smile fading off his features entirely to return to a stone cold, almost bored grimace. In the wake of his absence, countless more had flocked to the Empress side in hopes of getting some scraps of attention, not nearly as brave as Tyre had been - but clearly willing to feed off his crumbs after he had thawed out the first dance.

Little interest was given to him, likely for good reason. Tyre was not the type of man to flaunt his victories, or spread stories of his exploits. Silent but effective, a general that achieved greatness but cared not to spread that glory. He had slipped into the crowd, only faintly visible with the pitch black of his uniform as he made his way to the balcony - grabbing a single glass of champagne and making his way to the emptier opening.


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The scent of people was suffocating sometimes. That was only part of it. Out here, the stars were visible. The city was not so bright as to drown them out... though they were not nearly as visible as they were in his home. A deep inhale to the cooler evening air, leisurely sipping on the white wine while linking together constellations with the lines of his eyes.
 
Veah raised a brow at his explanation regarding his forward behavior. A woman had only recently ended up in power, so such men-led traditions were still found in the empire, but she was the empress. Not only was she bending tradition, but she had the most power in all the land. He should have been able to read the room. So many eyes on her, but not one spoke up out of both fear and respect. No one was daring enough to ask first other than him.

His body was close—closer than she would expect, especially given the eerie chill she emitted. Those who witnessed the two would whisper to one another, and that didn't bother Veah as much as the thought of other fools thinking they could be just as brave as her dance partner. At the same time, maybe her coldness would chase them off, but currently, she was in the arms of a man who knew how to endure the chill of some of the coldest mountains.

"I had assumed it was unbelievable, but I've learned to not underestimate the power of human will." From her own to her victims, to even him doing what her soldiers had failed to do. A bit of her coldness would melt just enough to compliment him. "I respect your dedication towards completing your mission for the empire, for me." She didn't trust words as much as action, and who could blame her? Everyone lied to her to make themselves look good or to protect themselves. She was someone who often had to see something to believe it.

She would twirl with him, her feminine grace not entirely lost by power and bloodshed. Her body returned to him, her arms loosely wrapped around his neck as he spoke of the exotic nectar he had tempted her with. "I had no plans of drinking something unknown without someone else trying it first, so you and one of my subjects will. Hopefully, there is enough." Talk about an easy and stupid way to die. To be completely safe, she shouldn't even touch it, but the empress did have an interest in foreign delicacies. Still, if he had some, then he could be punished for any funny business, and having a subject also consume it would also rule out if Tyre had some kind of foreign immunity that she did not.

His question caused her to grin. "Why would I not be cautious of you?" He came from a foreign land she ravaged; he killed one of her generals; he was more outspoken than most who respect her, and Empress Veah was simply in a position she couldn't offer much trust to anyone; Many wanted her power and/or to kill her.

She took a pause when he called out the idea that she wanted to learn more about him. "I only want to learn more about you to see how much I can trust you." She had little to work with, but again, the success of a difficult mission did put him in better lighting. "I encourage you to work on building a home here. You may miss the past that I've taken from you, but I do offer you a future under my rule. I do not want a land of mere slaves and unhappy souls." But… Empress Veah wanted EVERYTHING.

Veah was surprised to hear what Tyre desired: to get to know her on a personal level, to have her to talk to. It sounded surreal. Many knew her backstory, and that was more than enough. Was he trying to write a book about her or something? When did anyone ever try to get to know Veah personally? Even as a child, she was avoided. Surely he was just trying to get on her good side, right?

When the dance would end, he would say a few parting words before he took his leave. She stood there in silence as she watched him walk away. A wave of irritation rolled through her, and it had her on the edge of turning away or following. Eyes were on her during what felt like a long pause, but before her mind could even catch up, her feet were already moving. A few guards ran to follow, and she threw an arm out to the side, dismissing them. The ball would continue without her presence as she headed to the quiet balcony with Tyre.

Her voice would cut through the crisp night, "Did I excuse you?" He walked away without her permission while not knowing if she had more royal-laced words to say. "I've been letting you get away with far too much since I understand our customs are different, but you must remember who I am. Do you really want all your good work to turn sour?" How much did Veah really care? Did it actually upset her? Was this just about maintaining power and control? Did she even know at this point?

"You say you want to know more about me, then run out here." She palmed her forehead. "Men, I swear," she released a heavy sigh. Walking a bit closer, her heels clicked loudly against the polished stone with each step. She would also look at the stars for a moment. "This is the time to celebrate since my plans to take over even more of the north have been delayed." Once she was busy on her mission to conquer, she would be hard to reach both physically and mentally.

"You should help prepare the nectar in the coming days or the flowers may wilt before I have a chance to enjoy." Her long, filed nails tapped on the railing before she pushed herself off of it. She would wait for an apology and a confirmation before allowing him to have his night back.
 
Did I excuse you?
"You did not." Yanked from his star-gazing, his reply was immediate. Pushing off the edge of the railing, he would stand up to his full height to turn and face her. Eye to eye, with his arms folded behind his back. No expression even as she reprimanded him on his sloppiness. No attempt to explain, no attempt to deny. Only a mere - "I understand, my Empress. I will wait for you to excuse me in the future." Did he know how close he was to being executed? Did he even care? The way he looked at her, the calm of his tone, the manner by which it felt like he was just humoring her. He responded in the way that was expected of a subject. To acknowledge what he had done and to immediately agree to what she wanted but all of it was so... hollow. As if it was just a recited line or a faked smile to make someone happy. Everything about Tyre had that feel.
Hollow.

You say you want to know more about me, then run out here.

"Is that strange? I imagine you keep your words muted and consider them quite a bit more heavily in the presence of many. You are also much more popular than I am. But, to be quite frank, none of that really has anything to do with why I came out here." Alone. No guards. Cold night right against the railing. If he dragged her down with him, would she live? It would be a rather spectacularly flashy way to end her life... and he could be looking at the stars in those final moments. Closing his eyes, he would contemplate it for a moment or two before deciding that it was ultimately laughably foolish. Veah had received a confirmation, but not an apology. And she would not receive one by the time she looked back at him once more. Instead, Tyre would block the way back to the ball. Towering physique would, once more, invade her personal space.

People of the empire were pigs and savages. All of them. The Northerner knew that well and so that was precisely why he refused to reenter that ball. "I hope that this will not cause my head to roll off my shoulders, but I quite despise the ball of this Empire. So forgive me for saying this, but I would like to keep you out on this balcony a little longer. Otherwise reaching you becomes rather unpleasant with those..." Tossing a glance over his shoulder, he coldly stared back at the festivities of those in the ball. He did despise the people of this country, but what he abhorred more were those that lived without a burden on their shoulders. Dining, growing drunk on wine, being overwhelmingly merry. He was jealous, the way they were allowed to savor and enjoy life. Those people were not like him and they were not like her.

Turning to look back at her once more, he chose his words carefully. "...those that try a little too desperately for your attention." Brushing past her, he leaned on the railing beside her and pointed back up at the constellation that had briefly caught her eye. Perhaps for good reason, for that one was...

"Xemva's constellation. The Dark Goddess' constellation. Your eyes went there first. Did you feel drawn to it? It's odd to me. This country sees her as something terrifying, to be religiously avoided. Everyone fears dying, yes - but I wonder if it makes sense for everyone to fear death itself. In my country, that constellation has a different name." Briefly, his gaze flicked to the side to catch sight of her before looking forward once more. Some part of what he was saying soothed that anger in his core. Some part of what he spoke would put him at ease with all the lives that had fallen before him. "Eirlysia. It means snowdrop in my language. There are two types of death in my culture. There is the fleeting embrace of snow... something that comes gently and silently... and there is the harsh sear of fire - that comes ferociously and painfully. Eirlysia signifies the first. A gentle embrace to one's end. As a warrior, one strives to die in glory. Perhaps this is weak and pitiful to say, but I hope my passing is like the brush of a snowflake atop a bed of snow." To which he would turn to stare dead into the Empress eyes, gaze softening ever so slightly. Ah. That part of her was not one he could hate. The embrace of the cold.

In some sick way, he would not have minded if he lost his life at her hands. It was infuriating, surely, but that endless chill set his heart at ease. For those few moments, it was clear that he was admiring every inch of her. Not too unlike some others that felt they were sneaky... Veah was beautiful and the occasional foolish man would happily leer at her vulgarly. Tyre looked captivated with something else in that moment, not the curves of her body but the look in her eyes and the presence of her body. A charm that was, in its totality, belonging to only Veah.

"Ah. Excuse my staring. You are beautiful normally, but seeing you under the star's light had me momentarily speechless. Please forgive how I acted prior. I will exercise more caution and will strive to make up for it when I serve you your drink." That faint flare of heat in his stare, possessive and greedy, would be swallowed down all at once with the bow of his head and swift apology. The one he should have opened with before trying to keep her any longer -- he knew that. She did as well. He did it on purpose, he wanted her to know that.
 
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It indeed was strange to see someone not shaken to the core over her dissatisfaction. After all, she didn't have any qualms with turning her castle floors red with swift judgment. For those extremely outlandish, cruel, and unusual punishments were not hesitated upon. Maybe this prince had little to lose these days, but was that alone enough to make him so brave around her? Possibly, his emptiness reminded her of the hollowness she saw in her victim's profound defeat—the death of a soul. No matter the case, he puzzled her, and for that, he had earned the cold empress' increased interest.

It would make sense that she would be more likely to watch her words in public, but around Tyre wasn't much different. She had no intention of showing weakness or too much softness. It wasn't who she was, and even though she had flaws and weak points like any human, she was guarded. "I do not have many secrets. I could probably answer any question you had." A dangerous statement, but other than a small handful of things that could paint her in a bad light, she didn't have much to hide. Her life was consumed with her very public role, to the point that was who she had become.

Maybe not even Empress Veah knew her true self at this point.

"So, in both our cultures, that group of stars represents death and the cold. Easy themes for those with a sound mind to want to avoid." She hummed in thought, "I am sure Xemva would like the bitter and brutal cold of the north." It gave her more inspiration to keep conquering north, but she was also fighting with logic. Reason would tell her there were more worthwhile resources elsewhere compared to having her men killed on empty mountaintops.

She felt his gaze fall on her, and it caused her own pale eyes to fall upon his face. "It indeed is weak and pitiful to fantasize about your death." There was a much better chance she would be taking his head, unless he decided to run off just to die on some mountaintop. "You should be thinking about what you can do while you still breathe. I know I have much more I wish to accomplish before I take my final breath." So many more lives she would ruin, but she would grow an even stronger empire.

The empress was slightly caught off guard by his compliment. Those who were drawn to her beauty usually had much more obvious signs of their attraction. However, she already struggled to read Tyre. It made his compliment more meaningful than those who tried to kiss the very ground she walked on daily. Reaching up, she tucked some of her loose blonde hair over her left ear. "Thank you." Not all evil was ugly, and Veah was a perfect of that.

Better late than never, but he had successfully made her wait. "Good. Happy I was clear." She did expect him to use more caution or she might have to make his head roll, but oddly… she found herself not wanting it to come to that. She wanted to see how things played out with Tyre. How else he might impress her?

"In the coming days, when you are ready, request my attention at my throne room if I am not present. It would be wise to come after sundown, or you may be caught waiting." The Empress was a busy woman even when she 'wasn't'. There were many meetings, observations, readings, mappings, statistics, and so on. She rarely stopped, and that was what turned her into the successful empress she was today. Many believed she had to be superhuman for all she did, but Veah was still flesh like everyone else; She had to have a limit.

"I must go back to the ball. You do not need to stay, but I will drink wine and watch fools dance." She nodded to him. "You are dismissed."
 
In the coming days, when you are ready, request my attention at my throne room if I am not present.

"Understood, my Empress." They only really had a few days for the nectar. Flowers usually withered a mere week after being plucked even in good condition... but these ones were in such a drastically different environment that even a few days was sparing. Such was the nature of something defenseless and vulnerable in unfamiliar territory. It would wither if it did not prey on those around it. As she turned to leave, he would watch her intently - eyes buried on the back of her head even in the aftermath of her dismissal. Drink wine. Watch fools dance. Tyre could not help but wonder what really gave her thrill. Had it been the raw sensation of flames and blood against her flesh? Had it been the domineering rush of crushing something under foot? Or... was this merciless leader a little more tender? Everyone had their poison. He would find hers.

Instead of leaving that party right away, he would turn back to stare at the stars. It was a pleasant night out and the view here was much sweeter, for whatever reason? Eirlysia seemed to sparkle much more beautifully than usual.





Inevitably the day came for that promised 'treat' that had been vowed to her... but not with its fair share of backlash. The Empress would've been warned by many to not take some mysterious fluid from a flower far gone -- but it was hard to tell where jealousy had ended and concern had begun. Quite a few had seen her continued passing on punishing Tyre and the way he acted. An uncivilized Northern barbarian, they called him. A dangerous man. A threat to the Empire. The opportunities were still there to end him -- but the pushback towards the man was still not as prominent enough to act upon. The only reason it was even notable now was because of how much of a ghost Tyre was before the Empress' eye caught him.

Clearly for good reason considering how little the general cared about public reputation. A mere two days from the ball in the evening after sundown, well after most people had retired to their chambers was when Veah would be requested in the throne room. Deliberately so - from he brief side effects he had mentioned of that drink... finding a bed very soon after would be high up upon her list. Doubling as both a stimulant and an aphrodisiac, the real nature of Everwinter nectar was not too different than how a vampire might drain vitality from a human. All she was truly drinking, at the end of the day, was the raw vitality of a living creature.

Perhaps even one of her own soldiers.

How fitting.

"Empress." Tyre would give a bow of his head, kneeling as she entered the throne room. Beside him, an attendant already had the procured bottle. Only about enough for about two good cup, it looked like... pre-poured. Thick, crimson fluid with a viscosity similar to blood. A handful of 'testers' had also been provided in the case she needed extra assurance but before all that, there was one man that would drink before any of them would. The very same one that brought her that nectar.


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A deep inhale of the scent, paler features growing momentarily hazy and red. Color was rare upon his features, but just one mere scent of that nectar was enough to have Tyre's gaze dilating ever so slightly. "The fluid is cold, but the warmth is overwhelming. It will hit your throat first... and then spread from your core. Fingers before your feet. Your body's temperature will rise a few degrees, but that is normal. To a healthy flush - and then the heat will start to invade your mind. It will make you feel powerful. But it will also make your greed start to spill out. This drink has a name in my home country -" Holding the cup to his lips, he would leisurely sip right in front of Veah - setting it down only once it was halfway through. Once measured and relaxed, Tyre's gaze grew much more... feral. Deep, intense glare that buried straight into the gaze of Veah.

A hungering stare as if he wanted nothing more than to dig her apart. The flush had followed his features notably, not too unlike wine. "You start to crave that which interests you much more intensely. Perhaps to the point of being a fixation... even the smaller interests grow much more pronounced." That interest he had in her was hardly small. It was intense. He wanted to wrap his fucking hands around her throat in that moment, he wanted to see the vulnerability in her eyes, he wanted to make her cry his name. But - he was used to this. It had not been his first time drinking this concoction. "Devil's Blood. It is sometimes drank in noble parties. A very diluted amount, anyways. The more pure substances is difficult to get your hands on... but yours is quite high in purity." Handing the cup off, he would allow some other tasters to try it. A similar reaction - though theirs had been much more feverish. Aside from the shade of his cheeks and the shark-like way he was eyeing up Veah, Tyre seemed largely in control. Many of the tasters who had one sip tried to sneak two or three more.

The threat of a blade running them through was enough to get them to stop so it did not seem maddening. Merely... very addictive.

"Empress. What shall we do...? It seems to be a rather addictive substance - are you sure you wish to drink it?" An advisor spoke in a low, hushed tone against her ear. The second cup, still full, was presentd to her...

Devil's Blood. Glimmering in all its sinful glory.

Even had Tyre told her how the flowers developed their nectar, he doubted she would be put off by it. Veah was a greedy woman. Why would she deny something that could make her feel so indulgent and overwhelmingly good about her own greed? Tyre licked his lips, hooded eyes watching from afar as to what she would do.
 
The empress was warned, but she had been warned many times about different foreign foods, drinks, and even drugs that captured her interest. There was a time when the empress would pocket her own desires for her safety, but she did struggle to say no, especially if she had her testers survive and enjoy themselves. Besides mere indulgence, the thrill of trying something new brought the Empress happiness, and happiness was hard for Veah to come by despite all her victories and power.

She had found her seat at her throne while dressed in a smooth, form-clinging black dress. Veah would pay close attention to Tyre's words and her testers' reactions to the substance. Tyre did not hesitate to drink the crimson liquid, and Veah paid close attention, observing him thoroughly to see if he was masking any signs of toxicity. He would explain how the drink functioned. It sounded both appealing and concerning, as he made it seem these deep cravings would be unsettling. However, one of Veah's weaknesses was her curiosity; her curiosity in the fatal flowers and her curiosity in him all led her to this moment.

A final warning was given, this time about the substance's addictive nature. It was hard to see such an addiction in action given the fact her testers remained on their best behavior as their very lives were on the line. "Worry not, I am too strong to become addicted, unlike you fools." She considered what Tyre had said regarding desire. "Also, I already have almost all that I could crave in this very castle." So, she didn't foresee herself as losing any control or suffering from too much of an ache.

"The warmth tempts me." As a woman who was unable to escape the supernatural cold, consuming a substance that could make her a few degrees warmer sounded like a welcomed gift. She was used to the cold and could withstand it more than the average person, but she still longed to sit close to a fireplace most days.

"Hand it to me." She held out a hand expectantly, and the cup was promptly given to her. Her pale blue eyes fell on the red liquid. Yes, she was told what the nectar was made up of, but she hadn't expected it to be so thick and red. It didn't bother her much, but it did take away some of the appeal regarding what she saw as a delicacy besides the overall richness of color. She could tell it had a high purity despite knowing very little about the flower and its nectar.

With eyes on her, she took a sip. Swallowing, she lowered the glass and licked the crimson off her lips. She knew this taste; it reminded her of battle, fire, and, of course, blood. She noticed a wave of warmth rolling through her, but she wanted more of that deep heat. Enough that she took another sip, this time a bigger one, and with more hunger. "I guess this can give me something I want." A sly smile crossed her lips as a greater wave of heat crashed into her; that feeling alone was addictive. With each sip, it allowed her body to un-tense more when usually her muscles contracted for warmth. In her warm relaxation, she was able to experience the pleasant sensation of an inner warm embrace of heat.

She looked down at her cup and… it was gone?! She hardly remembered taking the final sip, but the more she consumed, the more intoxicated she became. Her legs felt heavy; it would be hard to stand, but the empress didn't much mind. With a tipsy smile, she instead slid down on her throne as if melting; her warmed body was dangerously relaxed. The heat that was simmering inside of her almost became too much, yet she wanted more.

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"I feel… so… hot."

She reached up to run her fingers through the roots of her blonde hair. "I haven't felt this kind of warmth since my visit to Amber Springs." A known hot spring for its near-boiling water. Very few could brave the heat. The springs were hotter, but her perception of warmth was off. "I don't want it to stop." As much as she honored the dark goddess, it wasn't all rainbows and roses. She also suffered. From the cold, the whispers, the nightmares, the rejection, and the dark cravings that did not all come from her own mind. She had to learn how to like this twisted way of life, but not all was bad, she had an entire empire to herself. One that would one day help strengthen Xemva, the goddess who would bless her. The only being there was there for her when everyone left her for dead.

She groaned under her breath but then was cut off by unprovoked giggling. "Mmm, I think you will be delivering me more nectar in the near future." The word 'more' echoed in her fogged mind. "I want… more, this warmth cannot leave me." Her greed started to show its face, but who could blame the woman who had an aura as cold as darkness and death? While she had been relaxed, a restlessness for more Devil's Blood, more warmth, more relaxation started to gnaw at her. She could see how this fun intoxication could be a double-edged sword.
 
I don't want it to stop.

The unfair truth was that it would stop. Once it had? That crippling void would sit right in her core. Prolonged use of the substance was a pathetic addict's fix to chasing that high -- but there was one and only one thing that could be done to keep that sensation clutched tight to her chest. Tyre took one step forward while the other subjects were momentarily distracted by the Empress' manic giggling. One after the other, until finally a voice yelled out harshly from beside him. "Halt, you were not given permission to approach you --" Before the sudden CRUNCH of a hand yanked out to wrap around the soldier's throat. Fingertips dug past softer, pliable flesh to cause scrunched up seams of skin to push where the indentations of Tyre's fingers were. Almost as if he could have snapped the man's neck right then and there -- the panic in the room would have soared. Weapons drawn, phalanxes formed, a single command sharply snapped at Tyre to let the man go. "I will give this as just one warning to the rest of you... get out of my way. Stop telling me what to do. Stop giving me orders. Stop implying what I should or should not do. Some filthy foot soldiers whose only job is to lap at the feet of their Empress will never command me. There is only one person who has." One finger drew forward, pointing straight at Veah whom at that point had likely been snapped at least momentarily out of her trance.

Dropping the soldier on the floor while he gasped and panted for air, drool spilling from his lips and pooling onto the floor the general merely continued to approach... not the first fool to come to the steps of her throne - most were run through but something about Tyre in that moment was inhuman. Overwhelmingly unnatural, as if some sort of monster had been packed into a human body. Anyone who dared to even try and meet his gaze were inevitably...

Run off.

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Intimidated, borderline terrified. Something unnatural had been happening to the two who had drank that unholy substance - somehow he had marched his way right in front of the Empress once more. It was just as he had said. There was only one person who outranked him in this entire audience hall. Her. She was the only one who could control a man this powerful. "My Empress... do you truly wish to keep feeling this way? The way the heat sears through your body or how your every little wish is coursing through your mind right now? I fear... this is the only time you will feel this way. You see, the effects on your body are not caused solely by what you just drank." Devil's Blood stimulated, but there were some people it was completely ineffective upon. To the point that it felt like none other than watered down wine.

The truth of that vile, blood-thick drink was in the name.

"The substance provokes your deepest greed. It incurs every vulnerable, core wish you possess... the more you crave and the more you obtain, the further your conquests go... the harsher the high becomes every time you indulge. Right now? There's only one way to keep that warmth surging in you." So close... so very close. Had she known how beautiful she had been, in that state? Flushed skin and the haze on her eyes - the way that sweetness lingered and mixed with her scent to become a potent heat that made it a struggle to not take a final few steps to the woman's throne.

Ah... she really was a vile woman. The epitome of human greed. Sheer brutality coalesced into one human being. Exactly who he had thought she was. That realization would make him burn for her in ways no one else had. To despise her in ways no one had. He wanted nothing more than to have her cry his name. The ball of his fists would push the tips of his nails against his open palm harsh enough to let small little crescents start to drip blood. It was all he could do to keep himself from doing something all too foolish in that moment... even though he wanted exactly that. How might it have felt? To have her kneeling at his feet as he sat upon her throne? Would she fucking feel how he had when he tasted the dirt upon her demolishing his kingdom?


THAT FUCKING WOMAN COULD LIVE AN ENTIRE LIFETIME IN HUMILIATION AND IT WOULD NOT EVEN BE CLOSE --

The tremble of his hand would stop, palm raising to his still gaze and one deep inhale of his iron-rich blood would have an amused hum leaving his mouth. "Use me. You know I am wasted here - gathering flowers and nectars. There is only one way to keep the flame burning. It is to act on your desires. Use me for your desires. I will crush your enemies into a pulp. I will hand you lands you so desperately covet. I will grant you riches beyond your wildest dreams, every luxury you so deeply crave..." Tyre's tone lowered to that huskier rumble. Low, deep growl that was just barely audible for anyone except the one woman he was seeing in that moment. Everyone else did not exist in that moment. Props. Decorations. Insignificant garbage.

"Oh, how I fucking adore the look of greed in your eyes... how cruel can you be, to not let me cultivate it for you? So delectable... will you grant me that pleasure, my Empress?" Her title grew ever sweeter on his tongue, spoken with that breathless, honey-sweet deepness of his like he had been faint-headed for her. "To give you everything you so deeply wish for in this moment... to keep that fire in you burning mercilessly hot?" He wanted her. He wanted her. HE WANTED HER.

Just as much as he wanted to kill in that moment. To slaughter and steal lives. To conquest upon far lands... to feel the heat of battle. For just as much greed swarmed in her eyes, he seemed to completely match it with desires so foolishly large that it should have been seen as arrogant and rash -- just like hers were at one point in her life. That did not stop either of them. It never would. They were different to all the other cowards in that room who merely kept the status quo.
 
While everyone held their breath when Tyre took one of the guards by his neck, Veah watched in amusement. His pattern of bold behaviors was dangerous and rebellious, but his lack of fear even towards her was something she found herself admiring. Not even the empress knew why exactly. She should favor those who more or less worshipped her and Xemva. He should be punished for not falling in line like the others, but she couldn't look away from the unique strength and fearlessness he possessed.

"He is correct. I'll command." It didn't matter what the others said. Unless he was to threaten her life, the others didn't need to meddle, not even Xemva. It seemed that Tyre got the welcoming message. He pushed forward without resistance or hesitation; every step he took toward the woman who stole everything he loved was tempting fate. The intoxicated empress wanted him closer, especially with that look in his eyes that would shake many to their core. He was such a cold man, yet she could tell he burned so hot; that was one reason why he survived those frozen mountaintops.

"Yes," she answered; she didn't want this high and heat to stop. She was desperate to not lose it, and she was aching for more. However, her yearning wouldn't stop growing; despite her words, the empress had fallen for the short but potent addiction.

Veah had almost everything she wanted besides her overarching goals. While under the influence, what was strange was everything she thought she wanted wasn't coming up in her head; she wasn't much thinking about bloodshed or forcing Tyre to bow to her. Instead, she was feeling a desire to let go of the weight of her crown, to feel a form of freedom that... she didn't even know existed. A freedom, an inner peace that she hoped to find once everyone far and wide accepted her rule.

Her breathing was slow and heavy; her words softened with gripping desire, "For now, I want to forget everything, leave behind the chill, and burn." There was without a doubt her body was reacting; one could practically smell her physical and hormonal desires. The bubbling heat caused the core of her femininity to ache to the point the look on her face was only becoming more feverish with time. Usually, she was far too busy and distracted to give in to her own needs, but when it did happen, she would command someone to service her, but what did she even want specifically? She felt too scattered to take the lead for once.

"I will use you," she said without missing a beat. "Even if you think... it is wasteful. If I want you to gather nectars, you will." She didn't see it as a waste since this was the warmest she had felt in some time. "I will use you and my empire to help me take over as much of the world as possible." The thought brought a drunken smile to her face. "Everyone will fear and respect me. Everyone."

The bitter and greedy empress often fantasized about having complete power, but... her nightmares told a much different story. There was a silent war taking place in her conflicted mind. The thought of such power made her heart flutter not only in excitement; after all, it was what she deserved, but the same rapid pulse was pounding in... anxiety. The more she took over, the more she was responsible for, and she had no plans to stop. To take over the world also meant running the world. She'd power through.... somehow.

"I've already told you I will be busy in the coming days planning for exactly that, but... right now...." Her words lingered as she tried to figure out how she could verbalize her current needs. Instead of using words, she would part her milky thighs and sink down a bit more in her throne. "I need your help extending this amazing feeling... this.... heat.."

She'd confess, "I'm feeling pent up." Her heavy breathing increased its pace. "I'd take you up to my chambers, but my legs feel numb." Nor did she care in the slightest who was there to see. She hiked up the fabric of her dark dress high enough to show her a matching pair of silky black panties. The color hid away the fact that the fabric was saturated with arousal. "I refuse to lose this heat. I want to bathe in flames." She would be when she got to Hell, but escaping Xemva's cold for a bit was more than appealing.

A hand of hers would slip between her thighs, trembling slightly when she felt the wet fabric against her concealed slit. "Make me sweat, Tyre." Her needs were becoming more pressing, more violent by the second. "Or I'll slit your fucking throat." Knowing the empress, she wasn't bluffing. "Do what you need to." She would test that confidence of his.
 
I've already told you I will be busy in the coming days planning for exactly that, but... right now...
I need your help extending this amazing feeling... this.... heat..
If only she could have known... what a mistake it had been to even utter those words to him. There was no deeper plot in that moment. No convoluted dagger under his wrist to slit her throat when he got to her - it was something much more basic. All the other lovers she could take had been under her boot. Cracked and crushed. Women mercilessly dominated or men superficially flaunting a position of power over the Empress. As she parted her legs and tempted him with that drenched, tight little lace black, the way his eyes narrowed and his gaze sharpened was hardly like her servants. There was no need for her to say that she was pent up - no reason for him to. The way he was already stripping her with his eyes, fucking her mercilessly with them... men were visual creatures, but his gaze never once broke from hers to glance up along that tempting pair of milky thighs or that drench of arousal making her silken panties all too uncomfortable to wear. Glancing over his shoulder, he finally tore his gaze from her to stare back at the remaining people in the chamber.
"Get out. Or I'll fucking kill you." Lust was not the only greedy emotion lighting his blood on fire. Wrath, pride, greed. It would have been so satisfying to slaughter someone in that moment - to drench a little bit more Imperial blood onto the ground. Pride in the fact that he was mere moments from taking her. Greed in wanting her vulnerable, feminine expression to cry out his name only for his ears. The threat was spoken coldly, without that same harsh, heated edge the Empress wore and there was not one that dared to go against it. Not one single person. Immediately the remaining individuals rushed out and closed the doors tight in their wake to leave only the two of them alone -

Make me sweat, Tyre.
Or I'll slit your fucking th--

The general did not even allow her to finish that threat before both his grands grabbed at her collar and yanked her out of her throne - smashing her lips against his own. One palm greedily groped against the curve of her ass, forcing her thigh to lock against his leg while he held her up with one forearm. "Open your fucking mouth. If you're going to slit my throat, do it after I'm finished making your pussy fucking ache." Vulgar. Far more so than the trained concubines she acquired. Where every word was dripping some hint of seduction, there was a crass vulgarity to the way he spoke to her in that moment - the way his hand grabbed at her hair from behind, yanking at a nice handful to arch her gaze up so he could continue kissing her. Wet, messy laps of their tongue and the low growl every time she dared to even try and pull back.

Either a bite on her lower lip or a tug of her hair to keep her locked to his mouth... one hand dipped down her collar, tearing at the fabric of her top to knead against her right breast. All at once, he had taken those final few steps up to the throne. All at once, he had her pinned against it. His body from the front, the cold throne from the back. By the time he allowed her to breathe, their tongues were dripping wet with pure, lustful heat between the two of them. A firm smack against her ass would immediately lead into the way he pried her thighs apart to wrap his hand against her sex. "I hardly give a damn that you are the most powerful woman in the Empire. Right now, I want to fuck you. You're just a woman right now..." Hot breath against her neck before Tyre shoved forward, pinning well-defined muscle against her now exposed chest and smothering her back against the throne so that friction of his thickening arousal could press against the fabric of her panties. "...my fucking woman. And I will make you orgasm in ways you never have before." It wasn't a threat. It was a promise. A promise to make her sweat, practically in the way she was begging to.

He did not care if she woke up the next morning and found humiliation in what he did to her. Anger in how he treated her. Fear in the way he stole the reigns from her. In that moment, all that mattered to him was having the one he so desperately craved... all that mattered was that they hit that high together until every thought ceased in her fucking mind. Tyre gripped along her wet fabric, prying it to the side with his thumb before exposing her bare entrance and messily undoing his own trousers. Feverish, shaky fingertips. The same substance had made him start to feel like a fever had overtaken him, so much so that impatience was starting to grind down on him and any fabric that was in the way was immediately torn off until the addictive friction was rubbing up against her. The length of her lips first, but then a much more firm focus of his tip grinding against her clit with every motion of entry that just barely missed her core.

"...I would give you the offer to be taken up to your chambers at this point-" A smash of his palm down, burying her hand over the arm rest of her throne before he plunged forward with one aligned thrust to bury himself into her without a second thought. The throne room was sacred. A place with rich history... of those that came before her, but he knew she hardly gave a damn about that. Everything in this world was for her. Everything in this world was in her reach. "-there is no denying how fucking... nnghhh... tempting you are - I will make you scream my fucking name." Even if his rationality told him to play it slow - to seduce her gradually, to leave her on edge... he wanted her just as much as she desired him. For that same feverish, insane high that the both had very quickly become caught up in. The throb of his girth would give her that satisfying stretch but it would also provide her with a handful of foreign sensations.

The feel of someone else handling the rhythm.

The sensation of someone pinning her down, manhandling her to fuck her however they pleased.

The deep, intense way that they looked to chase something beyond that superficial pleasure. Both her wrists were harshly restrained with his broader hands and he showed affection to every inch of her body. He was fucking her, but he was also ravishing her in ways that no other man had. Like some sort of beast. Kisses aligned down her neck and shoulder, hand occasionally alternating from her wrist to her thigh to drag and yank her more possessively to wrap around his hips to continue thrusting into her mercilessly.
 
While Tyre's sharp demand echoed off the throne room's walls, her servants and guards would obey because the empress didn't say otherwise. She might very well let him kill them, as they meant little to nothing to her. the sadistic woman might enjoy the bloodbath, but currently, her current needs were much more primal. They were all fixed on the man before her, the very one who had managed to capture her interest in unique ways, and now she was experiencing the fact that her interest was budding into a warped form of attraction.

She expected her needs to be met, and if displeased, he would surely be punished for it; she was not fucking around. It was why she threatened him, but before she could even finish her statement, he grabbed her by the collar of her dress just to steal her lips with his own. It caught her off guard since she fucked more than she kissed. It was probably no surprise, but the cold empress avoided the warmth of intimacy. It wasn't just intimacy, but she often avoided men. If one paid close enough attention, they would notice her concubines were mostly women. It was easy to think it was simply a preference, but the truth was much more layered.

Open her mouth? "How about you shut yours before I have to act." Yet it was this very boldness that had gotten him this far. He grabbed her by her thick, golden locks, and her body tensed up; she was not used to being handled in such a way. It felt like she was a breath away from being attacked, but when he kissed her again, her guard started to weaken once more. It startled her; the sensations he gave her were almost as exotic as the nectar she had drank, and based on how quickly she drank her drink, there was no doubt Veah truly did like to overindulge in exotic luxuries. However, this was a lot for her to handle concerning how foreign it all was. She'd release a muffled whine of concern and try to break the hot, impassioned kiss by turning her head. Just about anyone at that point would have broken the kiss to start begging for forgiveness, but instead, he held her firm by her hair, rejecting her freedom. Why was his disobedience causing her to feel so electric?

RRRRIP!

Anyone in their right mind would have peeled off her dress with the utmost care and respect. Slow, thoughtful, even folding the dress flawlessly so, and yet he ripped at her dress like it was wrapping paper for his gift. She gasped against his lips at his daring move that revealed her perky breasts with delicate pink centers. Her bust was ample enough to provide a bit more than a handful of her softness. While Veah was cursed by a dark entity, her feminine beauty was godsent.

Veah was caught between her lust and fear, just like she was trapped between her own throne and her general. She placed her hands on his chest to keep them pried apart, but it was more of a gesture than an attempt. "You are doing this wrong!" But… her body would say otherwise. He was doing exactly what she demanded him to do; he was making her so much hotter.

She shivered from the spank, leading him to feel the wetness between her shapely thighs. "I should have you hanged for this…" Her words were still bitter, but she smelled so sweet. "I'm never JUST a woman!" she corrected him with a hiss under her breath as his larger body pinned her back against her throne. The statement clashed with her pride and got under her skin. She suffered and fought too hard to be like the rest, even though that wasn't exactly the point he was making.

She could feel his hardness against her, and she knew her body was yearning. "I'll allow you to fuck me." She wouldn't hand over control so easily, even finding a way to bend the truth to fit HER narrative. She was ALLOWING this behavior; it was the only way she could get herself to accept that was actually happening. She would pause her talk-back when he made her a steamy promise. One that had her mind turning. "We will see about that."

The lust between them was suffocating. It was evident by how he eagerly pulled away any fabric separating them. She gripped the arms of her throne while biting her lower lip while he rubbed the core of his masculinity against her. "God… you are so hard." It excited her more than she wished. He would answer the call between man and woman and start to push into her tight and slick entrance, which had the empress making a sweet and high-pitched feminine sound. It was cute, a word that rarely would describe the ruthless empress.

"Oh, will you?" She issued a questioning challenge between her heavy breathing when he claimed he could make her scream for him. A grin crossed her lips, her gaze glazed over in a mixture of lust and intoxication. "Then fucking do it. Make me scream your name to the gods!" Even Veah knew that challenging a man with fire in his eyes while he was buried inside of her could be a foolish move, but she had been so tempted to see what Tyre was capable of after seeing his bravery and endurance again and again. Now she wanted a taste of it personally. He did the near-impossible by hiking up the very mountain she lost many soldiers to, and so maybe he really could give her an experience, a high, unlike any other.

Her wrists were taken, and she was pinned down further and it wiped that grin off of her face. She was quickly becoming too compromised, too physically vulnerable. As delusional as she could be about her power, she was wise enough to know she could not overpower the man. She didn't like it because it was different than she knew. It caused her to squirm and resist, but before she could issue more royal threats or protest, she was silenced by her own pleasure chasing away her fear. She couldn't help but start moaning with her mouth hung open. He felt so good thrusting into her at his own pace, listening to his body and possibly hers. She wasn't sure if it was just the nectar talking, but already, she wasn't sure if she had ever been so turned on this early on.

Usually, if she slept with a man, it was very calculative. It was hard to even get wrapped up in it all, as she was too busy controlling everything. Most of the time, she was better off using her fingers as she treated the men and women she slept with as little more than toys. How hard. How quick. When to stop. Where to go. It took away the excitement. Between the nectar and the very boldness of her general that she was so allured by, she couldn't even get herself to speak up, and he would show her that she didn't have to when he was in control. It felt heavenly each time their bodies collided, and his fleeting kisses made it all the more sweeter. At this very moment, she finally escaped the cold and was bathing in flames.

The way he grabbed at her heated body showed her how she was practically melting. She felt like a rag doll, but her legs wrapped around him for support and to aid in the mission of making her orgasm. "God! Haaah!~ Keep fucking me like that!" Still, she made her demands, to allow her to cope with losing control, but the Empress' most pressing issue was her crushing needs. Her need for him. Enough that she squeezed him with her thighs and hungrily rolled her hips just to feel how perfectly deep he was inside of her.

When his face was close due to his scattered kisses, she whispered in his ear. "But don't you EVER cum inside of me." The weight of her whispered words was heavy; SHE MEANT IT. It was one reason why she didn't sleep with many men, as when they had her, they struggled to control themselves around the attractive woman of power and legend, or their own greed had them fantasizing about fathering an heir, but she wouldn't stand for it. One of women's greatest strengths and gifts could end up being one of Veah's greatest weaknesses.
 
You are doing this wrong!

Wrong? What did she know about right or wrong? As if he cared for what came out of her fucking mouth - a gesture that was so overwhelmingly evident by the way his strokes and thrusts grew increasingly more rough in the face of her moaning and threatening. No response to grace her, no apology, no backtracking, none of that pitiful garbage that the bootlickers of her palace employed. Tyr looked her dead in the eyes and made damn sure she could see the sheer depths of them on every single slam of his tip flattening down to whatever wall of her wet, warm pussy that he decided to flatten against. Any time she so much as dared to speak back telling him to do this or to do that, she would only find his greedy palms pawing all over her physique. Gropes along her ass or over her breast, drawing her closer and tighter around him, silencing her with feverish kisses that locked their tongues together while the overwhelming sensation of firm, well-built muscles remained taut and flat against her softer, more feminine physique.

If he was to die after this, why would he not savor her like some sort of feral beast? Perhaps even wrap a hand around her throat and start to squeeze until her pussy was a tight little vice around his cock - would she kick? Thrash? Beg? A smirk graced his handsome features at the thought of it, cock throbbing violently inside of her and with every single challenge, every single taunt of hers... he grew closer to her. His girth pressed further inside of her, the sensation of his stronger body started to choke out the last few avenues of escape she might have had left until the only sensation she could even feel was him. The raw masculinity pinning her down to the throne, the tight grip of his hands restraining her wrists, the harsh manner his hips pried her thighs apart until all she could do was dangle them helplessly along his side.

Where?

Where was all of this going?

That was the real terror of the new experience... and he loved that flicker of uncertainty in her eyes, every time he leaned in. Could she tell? The way he flickered between fantasizing about tearing her throat out to the sheer bliss of sharing a kiss with her? Surely not. All she could see were fields of pure obsession. Of a man that saw a prize and claimed it in the roughest, most feral way one could.


God! Haa—ah!~ Keep fucking me like that!

"You can feel so much better than this - but look at you... demanding. Threatening. Throwing around your fucking orders. Cum inside you? How fucking adorable..." Empire filth growing in her womb. As if he would EVER FUCKING ALLOW THAT. Just as much as it put that rage and fury in her, it did the same to him -- but he played it off. Never once would he let that pure emotion be seen as rage. His anger burned cold... waiting for the exact moment that was perfect. "...the only time that will happen is when you beg me to cum inside you." Ridiculous for him to even growl that against her ear, as if she would ever stoop to the level of craving anyone's cum inside of her like that... or so she would think. Tyr grasped along her hips, dragging her down with a few more rough, deep thrusts interlocked with low, rolling moans and breathless growls against her ear. The yank of his girth outside of her would splatter a thick, hot mess all over her torso. Splashes of thicker seed reaching and drenching her breasts in that first load, some even staining her throne of all things.

He fucking came on her.

Something that was enough to get some concubines executed on the spot --

There wasn't time to consider that. Not to get angry, or upset, or even for her to think very long about it -- his fingers buried into her tight entrance, two digits beginning to fuck her fast and hard while the other kneaded and rolled up against her clit with his thumb - chasing that height of her pleasure as fast and hard as he could possibly manage. Whether she remained on the edge, or if she still needed more to tip over it... he was far from done from her. Grasping her by the hips, he would jerk her down the throne just enough to pull her off of it before turning her around with one greedy crack of his palm against her ass to bend her over the throne. "You are thinking too much... Veah. Why aren't you orgasming harder? Your pussy isn't trembling in the way I want it to... that's no good. I will make you forget everything but this moment. You asked for me to help you chase this high..." Drawing his fingers out of her dripping wet folds, he traced both digits up her body before burying them into her mouth to let her savor how overwhelmingly drenched she was in that moment. All throughout his deep tone musing against her ear from behind, that friction of his tip against her aching core could be felt with every single grind.

Where was the respect of her title? Where was his undying obedience to her every command?

One sudden THRUST would bury Tyr back into the Empress core once again, swiping his fingertips down her tongue to clean them off before drawing his hand to the back of her hair. Slips of his finger grabbed handfuls of those locks, tightening around the base of her hair to keep her rooted right in place. Bent over the proper angle, with one hand on her hips while he mercilessly fucked into her in a pace well faster and rougher than she allowed even her most favorite of male concubines to take. "Come on... come on... come on. Orgasm for me, Veah...! You have no FUCKING idea how badly I want it --" Oh... she surely would. With the way he throbbed so violently inside of her, practically on the verge of climaxing again with only a few minutes of their rough fucking. The new position ensured his tip hit a different angle... but there was no lack of sweet spots inside of a woman who had drank nectar. Every ridge of her warm, wet folds was pure bliss for both of them.

The only thing that was left was the most overpowering, destructive orgasm of the young woman's life.
 
As strong as the drink was, Veah had years of reinforced walls that would not easily crumble. He was chipping away, but how thick were those walls? Thick enough for her to refuse to give up total control even when rendered helpless. After all, control and power were key to her livelihood. To Veah, her authority and fortitude in every part of her life were critical to her survival. Just like she would have perished in the woods she was abandoned in if she did not persevere and take matters into her own hands by rewriting her own fate. The only way she was safe was to remain one step ahead, and that was why even now, she fought even though her mind was so tired and her body was heated with desire. This was a learned behavior and something he would see was deeply rooted in the empress as he worked on prying control and submission from her.

Another reason why she was stubbornly holding on to reality was because she didn't lay down her rules with him, or at least, one of her biggest until then. He seemed to be on the same page as her, which was a sigh of relief. She was far too important of a woman to be a mother, and it would be a political nightmare that she was not interested in dealing with. The thought alone was sobering, so she was happy to let it go, but... her pride HATED his response as if the High Empress would ever beg for any man's seed.

He would keep his word and pull out of her hot depths only to leave his mark on her breasts and even her throne. Her eyes widened at how carefree he was while he burned with a twisted fixation. Before she could express disapproval at his disrespect, he would keep her distracted with his fingers buried inside of her. The empress would squirm in her seat, unable to hold still when wave after wave of pleasure crashed into her. "Ahh-haaah!!!" Her eyes rolled up some, losing her sense of focus as she poured with moans. Her wetness drooled out of her, leaving behind a small puddle on the very seat that she ruled from. The very royal seat he would then slide her off of to reposition her.

"Veah."

Her heart sank, and her ears rang. It had been so many years since she last heard her name without a title attached. It was something she would exile or kill someone over. If he hadn't had her dancing close to the edge of an orgasm while she was under the influence, it would have been enough to snap her out of her intoxication. "Disrespectful idiot," she harshly whispered, but it lacked depth as her focus was too much on the ache between her thighs. Still, she was refusing to let go completely, so guard, so on edge, the fact he was even making this much progress was a miracle.

She barked back when he mentioned how she wasn't trembling in the way he desired, "maybe that is a poor reflection on yourself!" She then added, "Trust me, I want to stop my thinking…!" She didn't want to think; she did too much of it, and that was part of her problem. With how much she had on her plate that all relied on her, she could never just let everything go.

However, she was starting to see through her helplessness that if she stopped fighting against the current and instead eased into it, she could allow herself to get lost in this. If she was helpless, she didn't have to be responsible; she didn't have to think. The realization radiating through her caused her to take a sharp and shaken exhale. The tension in her body softened some, and she allowed the pleasure to take her higher. Allowing her a moment to escape her many crowns.

He pulled his fingers out of her to instead dip them into her mouth to give her a bold taste of herself as he towered over her from behind. She whined against his fingers and tried to twist and turn her head as saliva ran down her chin. Veah couldn't get herself to fully accept this. It was so new to her, and it was sobering in certain moments, but a learning experience to a side of sex she had not tried before. While she was full of disdain, why didn't she hate this even more? Why wasn't she fighting?

The answer was simple...

She needed this more than she could ever admit.

As if he felt that very need of hers calling out, he forced his way back inside of her with one aggressive thrust. Veah let out a screaming moan that bounced off the throne room's walls. Her eyes rolled back up, her body bouncing with the pace he set as he crashed into her again and again. He held her by the hair, which kept her locked in place to be slammed inside repeatedly and viciously.

The dripping wet and moaning empress clawed at her throne, crying out as he took over the forceful rhythm that even the empress knew she couldn't interrupt. He was so cocky, a part of her didn't want to cum just to spite him, but she knew her body well enough to know she couldn't stop the building heat in her core. The woman of coldness was overtaken by the heat between them, and with a sharp gasp, her body started to tense and tremble. Her mind faded to black while she was warm enough to sweat. Crying out once more, this time with an even more animalistic tone and volume, she would cum hard. Her juices squirted out from around his girth to rain down while Veah involuntarily quaked and trembled.

While gasping for air, Veah began to cry. The wicked empress crying? How unlike her. Many didn't even believe she was capable of crying... nor did she. Not ever since she killed her family.

Why... am I crying?
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WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?
 
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Completely and utterly ravished. It was the exact moment that she started to scream and writhe, drool pooling out from her lips and dripping onto her chin with the same fervor as the abundant wetness pooling over her thighs. Tyre only just barely managed to yank himself out of her tight core the moment she began to orgasm - some even coming to splatter along the raw, red aroused entrance of the Empress. Thicker ropes gushed down the width of her thighs before joining an ever growing pool over the top of the throne... a sight and sensation she would be remembering whenever she took her audiences in here. Soft, low pants and huskier growls against her ear served to work as some anchor point to gradually bring her back to him. One arm tucked under her neck to keep her smaller, softer, body locked to his own. What a fucking mess she had made... but even more than that was the reaction she gave him post-climax. Earth-shattering vulnerability the likes of which he never quite expected on a woman like her. Cold. Merciless. Unfeeling.

Slowly, his fingertips loosened from her hair and so too did the warm arm around her waist that served to keep her secure against his body. Once dropped to the throne, his gaze grew a little more vicious. Overwhelmingly deep, dark orbs that picked up on her body language and commit that face to memory. What would happen if he pushed her a little bit more? Broke her a little further? Or humiliated her in a state like this? That pathetic, curled up sight of her so small and meager... it would have been the sweetest to dig the dagger in right then and there when she was left at her absolute limit and so his hand reached towards her -- thick, broad palm nearly blocking out her entire vision.

...

Before grasping against the back of her hair far more softly to guide her, face first, to bury her expression against his chest. Picking her up off he ruined, dirty throne he would take a brief moment to pull just his trousers up. A single bicep was enough to balance her against his body and the remainder of the fabric he was wearing on his upper body, cloak and tunic would both lay over top of her in thick, warm seams that sought to trap the warmth she was feeling and the utterly overwhelming rush of sensations from him. His scent, his taste, the sensation of his seed dripping against her body. "Don't talk. Just bury your face against my chest." Tyre commanded with a tone as soft and sweet as pure honey. As he turned from the throne, he kept his chin raised just enough to not share so much as a single glance towards that whimpering, shuddering figure against his body.

He did not want to put emotion to that face.

It was better that way.

If she was just some vile, debaucherous woman who saw him as nothing more than meat to enjoy. It would have been so much sweeter.

No one had dared to stop him, even if waltzing around the royal palace shirtless was certainly one of many ways to end up imprisoned. When seeing what was in his arms, the few guards they had skirted past would immediately yield without a single word and without her feet so much as touching the ground even once or even a single word leaving her mouth... she was back in her bedroom. Vast, massive luxuries far too large for one woman and enough to fuel a few lifetimes of loneliness. Bringing Veah to her bedside, Tyre would lay her down atop the silken sheets before sitting on the bedside against her. One lean down and he would press a kiss to the center of her forehead before drawing away after tucking those loose, messier strands of hair behind her ear and along the ridge of her forehead. "You may wake up in the morning and want me dead. Or you may wake up in the morning and desire more. Whatever the case is... I am not a coward. There is no good man that runs from a woman after leaving her in a state like this. Sleep easy, Veah... I am right here for you." Wrapping his hand into her own, he would give her palm a tight squeeze just to lean in one more time...

...and for their lips to finally meet with a warm, wet smack. Tyre traced the edges of his fingertips against the sides of her cheek and eyes to swipe off the last of those tears.


"Good night, my Empress..."





When morning had come... the only thing remaining of that overwhelming, mind-consuming warmth had fizzled out into nothing more but mere embers. Light had begun to slip in through the cracks of the curtain to fall across Veah's body. From the time she had fallen asleep in the aftermath of that overwhelming night, her position had settled into something much more comfortable. Messier stickiness had been wiped from her body and thighs and she had been tucked in, chin under the covers. No sign of any injuries, nor of anything that had transpired the night of. Even more than that was the fact that... he wasn't there anymore. Not in the bed next to her, nor sitting on the edge of it like when he was wishing her the sweetest sleep of her life. Maybe that had been wise. After what he had done to her, she would have been insane to keep him alive - no one would have blamed him for fleeing--

"I do not like this room. It is unbearably lonely." Those thoughts would have been shattered entirely by the deeper tone of the general. Not at her bedside, but rather sitting along the window sill of her bedroom while peeking through the opened curtain. Thicker rows of firm muscle along his back was mildly illuminated by the sun's rays and though he was sure he was enduring a scalding glare from her in that moment, he had not bothered to look back at her just yet. Tyre merely passed his time gazing upon those palace gardens. Minutes straight as if not at all preoccupied with the lioness that was in the room with him nor the flurry of emotions that might have been hitting her... until he finally stood up and treaded towards her at his discretion and pace.

Kneeling at the foot of the bed, he lowered his gaze and spoke -

"What would you like to do now? In a sense... I have completed my obligation. I satisfied you as you should be. We are not lovers. We do not know each other beyond our rank. You cannot trust me for any specific reason. All of these are quite true. However - " Rising without permission, he sat back against the edge of the bed before leaning in to tuck his fingers beneath her chin and force her gaze to lock with his own. Calm, deep, domineering glare into her eyes. "- I will always give you what you need, Veah. Whenever it is required, whenever you please. Do not forget that." Seething, hot words against her jawline and with one more flirtatious coax of his thumb over her jawline, he would lean back finally - whether it be for a dagger in his chest or favor from her. There was a bridge they crossed tonight that he doubted they could ever come back from.
 
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