Ascension to the Heavens|Descent into Hell(Corsair and Xana)

24 years prior

---

A celebration, they had all decided, for old time’s sake. To mark Clara Olgasdottir’s second trip to Faefaeora. Drinking and dancing and love making. The same sort they had when it was time to make the Tribute. A sacrifice that was no longer necessary, because of Clara. Verrier’s gift to her, to go along with the curse he had left in her blood.

Now they were all sprawled in the two large beds they had pushed together to give everyone enough room. Sue on one side of her with William on the other, Thora and Sigurd cuddled up together on the other side of Sue. Clara was the youngest person in the room, but not by much. Only by a few months, not by the decades written on her lovers’ faces. Carefully, she disentangled herself, trying not to wake anyone else. She wasn’t really in the mood for another round of goodbyes.

It had been twelve years since she had last seen the dragon. Twelve years since she had last become the dragon, since she shed her humanity for that taste of power. Since she had pushed the sensation to the back of her mind, when she returned to Monsford. When she was still young and optimistic she could live a normal life as a normal human, beside the men and women she loved.

It was different this time. There was no more pretending she was just like them. Not when she appeared to be the same age as the children she had helped to raise. Not while she watched child after child born to her lovers, while she remained infertile. Time passed for them, things changed and grew and aged. She was stuck in time, hardly moved from the teenage girl who had first made the trek up the mountain, in a desperate bid to protect her hometown. She had been prepared to give her life, at the time. Was it ungrateful for her to admit now, how much she had mourned what she lost?

Lady Ari waited at the eastern gate, taking on the same role Aunt Ingrud had, all those years’ ago. Her once mistress had aged well, but aged without a doubt. It was evident in the fine lines on her face, tight with worry, and the silver streaks in her dark hair. Her proud warrior’s physique, soften by the decades, and the two children she had borne. “I hope you weren’t thinking about leaving without a goodbye?”

“Never,” Clara laughed, wrapping her arms tight around Ari. The older paladin held her just as tight, briefly sparking worry in Clara’s mind. That they wouldn’t see each other again. That she thought she wouldn’t see her again. “Besides, it’s not as if I am going to be gone long,” Clara teased, pushing back against the creeping anxiety.

“Of course,” Ari agreed, pulling back from the embrace, but keeping hands on Clara’s shoulders. “Have everything you need? Not bringing anything with you?” She asked, noting Clara’s equipment.

“Don’t need much,” Clara justified, turning her attention to the mountain, “Won’t take me long to get there.”

“Right, right,” Ari acknowledged, offering a smile. A smile that was kind and perhaps a touch patronizing.

“Any word from Mykel, or the others?” Clara asked, needing to change the subject. Needing to get past the look of sympathy on her mentor’s face.

“Yeah, they were leaving from Porthcawl, heading towards Reeve’s Bluff. Apparently it’s a bustling port town, once more,” Ari explained with a nostalgic laugh.

“Well, maybe we will all have to visit, once I return from the mountain,” Clara declared, putting on a jovial expression. She didn’t really feel it, but she was tired of the bitterness of the morning, already. Wanted something to look forward to, to grasp onto some piece of the past, when everything still seemed so promising. With one last hug, she departed, making her way on foot into the forest. Once she was out of sight, she began to cast off her human skin. Her form becoming sinuous, strange. Appendages thickening and stretching until all that remained of her humanity was subsumed by the draconic shape. Wings flapped, carrying her into the air, and toward Faefaeora.

---

Following the Redding River as it twisted through the Vale of Scathan, the group of fledgling Paladins traveled through the reclaimed demonlands. Hard to believe that much of this land was uninhabitable just before they had been born. Today they were approaching Reeve’s Bluff, the largest and most populous of the towns that occupied the banks of the river.

The town itself was a thing of wonder. Newly constructed houses of timber and stone lined the streets in neat rows, with fresh coats of paint. Light blues and greens and whites, with darker trimmings. New businesses propped up along the wharf, inviting the visiting sailors to patronize them.

“Welcome to Reeve’s Bluff,” a woman sheathed in a white hooded robe called to the group. She was flanked by half a dozen others, men and women dressed the same way, “Have you come to learn the teachings of liberation and rebirth?”

“The what now?” Eva asked, pulling the reins on her horse as the group drew closer. They all had the same eerie, euphoric smiles on their faces.

“The teachings of Lord Furtan, about liberation and rebirth. Liberation, from that which binds us to our mortal coil, and the suffering that goes along with such bondage. Once we learn to give up our yearnings, we can be reborn into a life of perfect happiness and completion.” The same woman elaborated, reverence in her tone, awe in her eyes.

“Lord Furtan?” Lily repeated, incredulous, glancing over at her brother, before looking back to the gathered group, “The demon?”

“Demons are just angels that descended from the heavens to show us humans the way,” A tall man with bone white blonde hair and crystal blue eyes countered. He smiled at Lily, a confident sort of smirk that seemed at odds with the nigh fanatical elation that seemed to consume his peers.

“We are hosting a baptismal ceremony this evening, under the light of the full moon,” the woman who seemed to be the leader described. She had an almost ethereal beauty, with her dark hair and skin, and light eyes, “All are welcome, to receive the wisdom of Lord Furtan.” The group moved in unison along the wharf, powder white cloaks billowy in the breeze.

“What the hell was that?” Rynne asked, trotting her mare to the front of the group, to share her exasperated look with rest of the group.

Eva just sighed and shrugged, “I have no clue, and no desire to figure out on an empty stomach.” She motioned towards the tavern on the water line, The Welcoming Wench. “Let’s eat, and we can figure out what to make of this.”

Verrier shifted uneasily in his rest, treasure sliding and scales scraping as he did. He wasn't sleeping, precisely, but he had entered a contemplative torpor that allowed him a vague sense of all that transpired on his mountain. He could feel the faint vibrations of the Drakul as they moved about their tasks. His nostrils were full of the warm scent of their flesh, the dry must if books, the rich damp of freshly turned earth. And he could taste the approach of... "Haldebar," he rumbled, his whisper a distant echo of thunder in the hall.

"My lord," he heard his thrall respond.

Verrier cracked an eye, staring at the tiny figure, garbed in grey and posessing iron-grey hair. "Speak, my servant," he commanded, resting his great head on the cool marble.

"Your mate has been sighted, my lord," Haldebar declared.

Verrier opened his jaws a little, fants displayed in hideous approximation of a smile. He chuckled slightly at the sudden stink of fear his servant exuded, but noted with pleasure that he gave no other sign. "So soon? In what shepe does she come?"

"In the shape of a dragon, my lord."

Verrier stretched, uncoiling himself as he did. "Does she, now? And does she come in love, or in war?"

Haldebar pursed his lips, staring upwards at his master. "My lord? It...it is the appointed time."

Verrier snorted in disgust. "Pfaugh. She is a dragon, Haldebar. One day she will accept this. And then..." Without finishing his thought he stalked towards the graat mithril doors of the hall, flowing on great winged limbs like a sinuous bat.

Haldebar scurried to keep up. "And then, my lord?"

Verrier uttered a terrible boom of laughter. "On that day, she will come to me or come to kill me. Either will be more interesting than grudging obedience to a pact."

---

"I'll be honest," Mykel said, spearing a meatball and dunking it in some sort of greenish sauce. "This is not what I expected." He popped the meatball in his mouth, and his eyes went wide as it began to burn.

"The town?" Rynne asked, pushing him a tankard. "Or the food?"

"Both," Mykel gasped after draining half the tankard. "Far, far too hot." He took another drink. "That sauce is a killer."

The Welcoming Wench was a pleasant, inviting tavern - more a restaurant that served drinks, really - and inn. The owner was a demon, a squat thing with toad legs and bat wings and the head of a ram, but it (he?) hadn't hesitated when the young Paladins had entered. It had greeted them warmly and led them to a table with a fine view of the harbor, grandly proclaiming that the special of the day was shrimp and mackrel meatballs in green chili paste.

Warned by her brother's example, Lily speared a meatball and dipped it carefully in the sauce. Her face flushed a little as she ate it. "Rebirth? Baptism? What are they on about?"

"I am following in the footsteps of your esteemed father, if not at the same speed."

Everyone turned to look. Standing before them was a tall, emaciated cirpse of a figure. A demon, with charred leathery skin stretched tight over a fleshless skeleton. It wore a white kilt around its bony hips. "Lord Furtan," Eva said, rising. "You honor us..."

The demon waived a taloned hand. "Nit at all, not at all. It is my great pleasure to welcome servants of the Goddess of Love and War to Reeve's Bluff. May I join you?"

It didn’t take as long to reach the mountain this time, as it had last time. Clara suspected her dragon form had grown larger in the twelve years since she had last used it, but there wasn’t a good basis of comparison for her to know for certain. All she had now was the impression of the open balcony having shrunk, since she last tried landing upon. Still plenty large enough for her needs, setting down on the stone. She shifted and contracted as her feet touched down, still far more comfortable in her human form that her draconic one. A touch resentful as well, perhaps. Not interested in indulging Verrier’s ego in the moment.

Dressed in a deep blue gown, Clara adorned herself with golden spaulders and neck guard. A matching, molded breast plate and belt made up the dress, complete with lace up golden sandals. Afodisia’s symbol, the helm and the spear, were imprinted on the mock armor, too fine to provide any real protection. It accentuated her womanly attributes, without relinquishing her warrior’s pride. Somehow, she was not surprised to find Verrier still wearing dragon scales and fangs.

“My lord,” she acknowledged, without a curtsy or any other act of submission. He thinks her a Goddess? Since when does a Goddess bow before a dragon? “It has been twelve years, since last I returned to Farefaeora.”

---

Lily tried not to glare as the demon lord approached the table, inviting himself to join them. He spoke of their father, and it was a jarring reminder of his history. The things he had done, before either her or her brother had been born, the terrible legacy of his deeds as Matthias the Traitor.

“Our father?” She asked, hazel eyes not wavering from the demon. Furtan smiled at her, an approximation of friendly, but full of razor fangs.

“Matthias the Redeemed. You favor him,” Furtan filled in, demonstrating his knowledge, “I met him before either of you were born, before he was ‘The Redeemed.’ When you mother was just the Slayer of Torment, not yet the Slayer of Lust. Your father taught me a valuable lesson when he was here.”

“And that was?” Anja asked, cutting her meatballs into smaller and smaller pieces.

“The power of redemption, and love,” Furtan said matter-of-factly, picking up a meat and drenching it in the sauce. “I once ruled my domain with strength, and fear. And it was a mere shadow of the township you see here today. My people were meek, meager, dwindling. There was no loyalty among them, just the barest obedience to preserve their life.” The demon plopped the morsel in his mouth, not flinching in the slightest from the spice.

“And now I strive towards redemption. Not just myself either. After the fall of the courts of Torment and Lust, there were many a demon with nothing left. No masters to serve, no purpose in this life. Exiled from the heavens for our rebellion. I welcomed them into my realm, to seek a path back into the graces of the gods. Because, we forgot the service the Gods entreated us with, we must relearn it with the humans.”

“And…that’s the point of all this?” Eva asked, masking some of the skepticism in her voice. Not interested in antagonizing the demon. Even as he tried to down play it, they could all sense there was power in his form. None of them had any experience fighting something as strong as him. The only demons most of them had fought were peons, things that were more hungry than truly malicious.

“Why of course,” Furtan insisted, “Since I have devoted myself to the betterment of my people, their loyalty and dedication has increased one hundred-fold! This town has become a beacon, for both humans and demons, looking to reinvent themselves. Any, looking for a fresh start, looking for hope in the remains of the demonlords’ fall. And perhaps, one day I two will feel the embrace of the divine, and be called home, once more.”

Furtan stood from the table at that, “I do hope you all will just us at the baptismal tonight. Even if you decline to participate, just to witness the mutual benefit of the arrangement I have with my human populace. It is inspired by what I recall of the Lady of Love and War’s religious ceremonies, though I would welcome any input her pious believers could impart.”

"And you have been missed in your brief absence, Clara Olgasdottor," Verrier responded, staring down at her. His jaws gaped, revealing sword-length fangs as he approximated something that could charatibly be described as a smile. "And Faerfaeora is enriched by your return. Will you walk with me?"

He turned, twisting and flowing in serpentine fashion, his footsteps shockingly soft and silent for such a huge creature. Silent as a cat on hind feet and wing claws he stalked through the gates of the observation garden and into the fortress proper. Reared by unhuman hands in an age before men walked the world, the fortress was a multiply-tiered city fashioned of polished granite and basalt and marble and quartz, gleaming like a mortal conception of the heavens.

A handful of people, perhaps fifty, lined the broad avenue as Verrier and Clara entered the city. Most were adults - tributes of human life that the dragon had spared on one whim or another, or the rare person who risked the dragon's wrath in search of sanctuary. A few were children, raised their whole lives in the shadow of the dragon. They stared respectfully and fearfully at the hundred foot length of their lord, then waved at Clara. One child, braver than the others, raced up and shyly offered her a boquet of golden daffodils before gkancing up at the dragon.

"You have done well, Lita," Verrier rumbled, then laughed as the child beamed and clambered into his tail. He allowed the familiarity for several paces before twitching his tail just firmly enough to send the child tumbling in a heap of laughter. "Be about your duties, Drakul," he announced. "I have no doubt the Lady of the Mountain will visit you all in time."

Verrier's shape began to writhe and collapse. In the space of two steps he had assumed the form of a man with curly dark red hair, seemingly no older than Clara appeared, garbed in black jacket and breeches and a crimson shirt. Only his eyes, blood red and double-slitted, gave the lie to his apparent humanity. "They give me hope for humans," he said, watching the gathered people depart. "The Elves were born of our blood, but willingly bent the knees to the gods." He glanced at Clara. "But humans, born of the gods, have from time to time cast off the yoke of slavery."

---

"I... well, then. Yes." Mykel sounded slightly confused, but pushed through. "It would be our honor."

The skin on Furtan's blackened lips cracked bloodlessly as he smiled. "Wonderful!" Then he laughed. "And your skepticism diesn't offend me, so you needen't hide it. I am a demon, after all. But, when you come to the ceremony tonight? You will see my sincerity fof yourselves." He bowed. "But for now, I have other duties I must attend. Until tonight."

They all watched him leave. "What are you doing?" Rynne hissed.

"Accepting his offer," Mykel asked, skewering another meatball.

"Why?" she demanded. "He's..."

"He's claiming he seeks forgiveness," Mykel said calmly. "So we should see what he's actually doing. I mean, what if he's telling the truth?"

"What if he's not?" Rynne countered.

"We go armed." Mykel smiled, and popped the meatball in his mouth. "I mean, I'm hopeful. Not stupid."

Clara acknowledged the waiting crowds with nods and tentative waves, still not used to this role Verrier had her play. Among the crowd she noticed her aunt Helga, hair silvered since the last time she had seen her. Distracted by the recognition, she almost didn’t notice the girl who had offered her flowers. A gracious “Thank you,” was all she could muster in the moment watching with amusement as the child played on Verrier’s tail. It lasted a moment, before Verrier had the crowd disperse, and transformed into his human form. Pushing aside the primal attraction this appearance elicited in her, she held onto the resentment she had carried since her last visit.

“So these humans worship you, instead of the Gods, and that is casting off the yokes of slavery?” she challenged, far removed from the optimistic, naïve young girl should was when she first sought out Verrier.

---

Moonlight bathed the harbor in silver, with golden torches serving as a beacon to the center of festivities. Gathered upon the docks were already scores of people, all human, mostly sailors, waiting with a general air of curiosity and uncertainty. The group of Paladins took their place in the crowd, towards the back, finding the best place to observe from.

In the streets, white robed beings moved in procession, creating a half circle along the water line. Perhaps three dozen of them in all, mostly humans, over half to be sure, but also demons-spawn and demons among their numbers. The olive skinned woman who first spoke to them when they arrived broke from the group, taking her place in the middle of the semi-circle.

“We gather under the purifying light of the moon to cleanse our sins. We cast off the rags which concealed our vices so that we may sanctify ourselves in the eyes of Heaven, and be reborn into glorious deliverance from covetous desire and discontent. True happiness, true pleasure is found in service, in service to others, in service to something greater than ourselves. In dedicating myself to the service of other, may I someday be welcomed back into paradise, serving the Gods.” As she finished her speech, she disrobed, her soft, slender body illuminated by the moonlight.

She walked into the river, wading in without hesitation until she was waist deep, and dipped her head and upper body under the water. Coming up with a splash, excess water rolled down her skin in thin streams. Dripping from the curve of her perky breasts, nipples erect under the chill of night air on moist skin, With a smile laced with invitation and elation, she held out her arms, “Who among you will seek out salvation and paradise with me? Who will be baptized first?”

There was nervous laughter among the gathered onlookers, unsure what to think of the display. There was no denying how enticing the offer was, even if nobody was yet completely sure what was being offered. What was being asked. But after a moment a young man emerged from the crowd, hooting and hollering from his group of friends encouraging him to claim a piece of paradise for himself. Two white robed acolytes helped him undress, his excitement in the matter clearly jutting upwards as he moved towards the river. The preacher scooped water into her joined palms as he drew closer, letting it fall over him once he was close enough. Those same hands cupped his face, pulling him into a kiss it didn’t seem as if he had any intention of resisting. More vocal encouragement came from the crowd, as he grabbed a handful of her pert ass, followed by howls and whistles as her wrapped a leg around his waist.

Two more women in white robs came forward now, letting their robes drop to the floor to reveal two succubi, their curvy bodies flaunted before the increasingly rambunctious crowd. Another man, burly, and dark skinned came forward to receive their affections, each demon taking a turn to kiss and caress him.

It soon became clear that each robed figure was a gorgeous specimen, whether human demon or some combined pedigree of the two. Gorgeous and enthusiastic to welcome new members into the fold, by welcoming between their inner folds if necessary. It didn’t take long for an absolutely hedonistic orgy to break out, few of the witnesses save the paladins unsure about joining in.

"Worship?" Verrier laughed. "They fear me, Clara. And they look to me for protection. I suppose, then, that this bears the superficial trappings of worship. But they are my Drakul, tribute offerings spared because of their defiance of me. Your aunt, for instance, had torn her hands free of her manacles by the time I arrived, and at sight of me seized a broadsword from the tribute and declared her intention to choke me to death when I swallowed her. When I struck the blade from her hand, she did her best to spit in my eye."

More laughter. "Really, based in that, I shouldn't have been surprised you were willing to strike me." Then he gestured around. "I demand no worship, no grovellng abasements, no hymns of praise or sermons on my wisdom and glory. And the only commandments I give are the Tribute - payment to be permitted to exist in my territory - and to leave me in peace."

He walked in silence for a minute, listening to the soft sounds echoing along the street. Then he caught sight of a particular building, and sighed. "I don't suppose your kingdom will be offering anything [i)useful[/i] in Tribute this year?"

---

"I suppose," Mykel said carefully, "that I should have expected this."

"Yesh, well," Rynne licked her lips nervously, glancing around. "Furtan did say..."

"Now what?" Svalis asked. "I mean... do we participate, or what?"

It was an excellent question, and not one easily answered. Sure, it looked like a good time, and Mykel would have been lying if he said he didn't want to get involved. There were a couple of blondes there, for instance, enthusiastically sharing a cock and each other, that he could cheerfully fuck fir hours. And inky a fool would claim the succubi weren't eroticism personified.

But that was the problem. Demons.

As he agonized, the 'priestess' approached. Her wet olive skin glimmered darkly in the moonlight. "Come to us," she implored, lifting her hands in supplication. "Join with us, and let us taste of the hope of redemption." She pressed herself against Lily. "Shiw us the way to paradise."

A smirk passed over Clara’s lips as Verrier relayed the event’s of her aunt’s tribute. She hadn’t known the woman well, having only spoken to her briefly in her time here, but she seemed cut from the same cloth as Aunt Ingrud, and her mother.

“I suppose that depends. What exactly does a dragon have use for?” Clara shot back, finding a playful tease creep into her voice. “We were going to send you one of our ‘Dragon’s Fire.’ It’s a weapon we used on demons, when they threatened our homes. We debated for days on whether or not to include one in the tribute, where it was an insult because it is not nearly as powerful as your own dragon breath, and yet it is the pinnacle of our engineering expertise. Do we send you one of our newest ones, capable of great damage, or the original one, that has significant sentimental value for its role in the Battle of Monsford.” Clara found herself laughing as she explained both sides of the argument.

It was easy to flirt with him, even if the whole situation made her angry. And that was the problem. She didn’t dislike Verrier. As a matter of fact, she did like him, very much. She liked Verrier, and she liked being with him, but she resented that it was never a choice for her. He had decided, without consulting her at all, that she should be a dragon. The tension returned, and she didn’t want to let it boil underneath the surface anymore. And he claimed to respect defiance so…

“I guess, I just don’t get it, Verrier. You claim to value freedom and choice and independence so, and yet you bound me to you. Changed me so that it became difficult to form bonds with my loved ones. Changed me, denied me the joys of growing old with the ones I love, denied me the joys of motherhood. Don’t you tell me that motherhood is beneath me, or some such thing. You don’t get to decide that, Verrier. You don’t get to decide to strip me of my humanity on a whim!”

---

Lily bit her lip as the woman approached her, implored her. It would have been impossible to deny the desire in her wide eyes, not when they seemed stuck on the cum seeping down the priestess’ thighs. Goddess, she wanted to taste it, lap at the pleasure dripping from her slit. Wanted a taste of it, her body used to sate the passions of many. It would be easy, to get caught up in the bliss of the moment, the bliss of the crowd, just sharing themselves so easily…

A sharp cry tore her attention away from the priestess, and drew her hand to her blade. It came from a woman, sitting in the lap of a demon, with one of his arms supporting her back while the other hand worked between her thighs. He sucked at her breast, and a thin rivulet of blood could be seen, stark against her skin. Was this ceremony an excuse to lure humans into feeding demons? But he came off her breast a touch, sealing the bite as his tongue twirled over the nipple, and she gasped, and begged for more, “Bite me again, please.” She was enjoying it, enjoying having her blood drunk! Was that…wrong? Why was she curious as to how it felt, and whether or not she would like it?

“Why do you hesitate? Do you merely enjoy watching?” the priestess asked, caressing Lily’s cheek, appreciating the way the taller woman shuddered in desire, “Or do you fear losing yourself to euphoria?”

“It is…a concern…” Lily confessed, just stopping herself from touching the glistening wet skin of the slender woman. The priestess caught her unsure hand, bringing a finger to her mouth and licking it suggestively, piercing turquoise eyes penetrating her doubts and defenses. Lily pulled her face close, devouring her mouth with her own. While they kissed, another man, the tall blonde from earlier, got behind her, working her out of her armor. Once the women broke the kiss, he was ready to replace her lips with his, fingers never stopping their duty, tugging at the laces until it was loose enough to slip down her figure.

The blonde twins approached Mykel, giggling and giddy. They stood on either side of him, brushing nude, busty bodies against his, and lips against his ears.

“Would you take us to paradise?” asked the one on the right.

“Both of us?” From the one on the left.

“Or should she help you?” they asked in unison, pointing towards Eva. The redhead blushed, and looked away, trying so hard to hiding her interest.

“There is no need for fear,” the priestess declared, tracing the exposed curves of Lily’s body with eyes and fingers, “Afodisia celebrates all acts of passion.”

---

Furtan watched the ceremony play out from afar, standing beside figure with a white cloak obscuring his features.

“Matthias gave you the same speech he gave me, about love and redemption?” The demon asked, swirling a goblet filled with blood before bringing it to his lips.

“A similar one, I am sure.”

“He told me then that I could practice his methods on a Paladin, and attempt to sway one into serving me. Do you think he ever thought I might use it on his daughter and son?”

“I doubt the thought crossed his mind.”

“How about you? Will you partake of hope and redemption?” Furtan asked the figure, noting the twisted smirk that curled on his features.

“I think I will. Perhaps redemption awaits me between her legs.”

"These... Dragons Fire weapons would be interesting to own, yes," Verrier replied, a sort of hungry gleam in his eyes. "But even more than that, I would have desired a treatise on their creation! Write a book explaining the principles that make them roar and slay at a distance, and the orocess by which theywere conceived and refined!" He gestured grandly, arms sweeping to take in all the mountain. "The humans see this fortress, or they see the ever-burning pyre of Klythis, and they think 'that is power!' They are fools, Clara. And the gids?" He snorted contemptuously. "They see Verrier, and the wrath that broke a dozen Angelic hosts and slew four of theur number, and say 'that is power!' And they are fools as well!"

He caught her in his arms, turning her so that her back was against his chest, and he pointed at a great tower that rose in a graceful spire tiwards the sky. "That, Clara, is power, the symbol of the power that kept me alive when all my kin were slaughtered or subjugated. That kept me alive - me, the runt of the cluch got on Satyusenya by Voreagon - alive to wage war against Heaven when all hands turned against me." His arms tightened as he breathed in, enjoying her scent. "I have not yet shown it to you. Would you care to see it?"

She pulled away at that, hurling defiance and accusations at him as she did. He grinned like a cat, following in her wake, staying close to her. "Freedom," he said, voice almost a purr, "and power. His inhuman double-slitted eyes stared into hers. "All that lives in my domain is mine, Clara Olgasdottor. The plants, the trees, the birds and the beasts. The Earth is my kin, forged from the meat and bones and blood of Tiamat and Typhon, my grandparents. My essence has saturated these lands for longer than humans have walked creation."

He slid closer with inhuman grace, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her body. "My blood is the blood of Chaos, Clara, and it calls to the essence of Chaos within you. I gave it to you as a test, to see if you would live. I was... curious. I bound you, because I could. Does that offend you?" He smiled, the expression feral. "Then defy me. Build the strength to break that bond, and cast it from you.."

Suddenly she was backed into a wall. Verrier pressed against her, aware of the feel of her body through the dress she wore. "I an a dragon, Clara," he murmured, breath hot on her lips as he pinned her wrists against the stone. "I take what I wish, and I make no excuse. But consider this." Now his mouth traced the skin of her throat, not quite touching. "You came to me freely, offered yourself to me." He stretched a little, enjoying the feel of her body against his. "You could have chisen death, instead. What choice did Afodisia offer?"

---

Fuck, yeah! Mykel wanted to say, as the blondes made their offer. "Uhm... I'm flattered, but..." He licked his lips, trying to figure out how to phrase this.

"Afodisia does indeed celebrate all acts of pleasure," Svalis said, stepping in. "But we are unfamiliar with the tenents of your faith." Offering the priestess a charming little bow, he caught Mykel by the shoulder and pulled him away from the blondes. "I hope you understand that, as Paladins of Love and War, we must know more of your beliefs before we may join in your rites?"

"We worship the same goddess," the priestess pouted, watching the way Svalis watched her and Lily and the man who cupped Lily's firm breasts. "As well as Her sister Edana, in hopes of receiving forgiveness and salvation."

"Go get your sister," Svalis murmured to Mykel. "I am glad of it, my lady. And ince we have learned more of your rites and your faith, we would love to celebrate tgem wuth you. He watched Mykel carefully disengage Lily nd draw her away. "Perhaps you will join us for breakfast tomorrow, and teach us?"

Clara backed away, because the feel of his body was intoxicating. Because his presence could melt the resentment she carried Already, she could feel herself giving in, wishing he would kiss her. Wishing he was pressing his lips to her mouth and skin, instead of merely teasing her. What was it about this form than made Verrier irresistible? Was it because it was just for her, chosen to appeal to her desires? Or was she imagining that part?

“I did offer myself,” She acknowledged, trying to focus on the argument, to concentrate while her drove her mad. “I offered myself in exchange for your protection, so you would defend Monsford, from demons. But you took up my charge because I made you, not because of my offer.” At that recollection, she rolled their bodies, pushing him against the wall this time, struggling to pull back from kissing him, from devouring his mouth with a bestial, primal hunger.

“Afodisia,” she started, leaning into his body, holding him in place. It was half an attempt to counter his claims about the Gods, and half a moan, a desperate pleading for more of him. “Afodisia offers us power in return for faithful service. It is freely chosen.” Yet, even as she said the words, she knew they weren’t entirely true. In the strictest sense, it was a choice, but it didn’t often feel like one. Less so, perhaps, since the threat of the demons diminished. But to turn away from the calling was cowardice.

“What you…did to me, it was a boon, at times. An advantage against the demons, I can admit. But, what it’s cost me…No one understands. You don’t even understand. You don’t even care, don’t even care to understand. Is it living, to be frozen in time? To watch the world pass me by. Life is change and growth, this existence is none of that.” She pushed away and sighed, wiping her eyes.

“Sorry, I just…needed to tell someone. To say it out loud. Put my loss into words,” With another sigh she shook her head. “Just another of those silly human things, you couldn’t possibly understand.” One last sigh and she composed herself, finding herself reaching for his hand. Another human gesture she wasn’t sure he could understand. “What did you want to show me?”

---

Lily moaned, passed between kissing the woman and the man, two people whose names she didn’t even know. Didn’t care to know. Didn’t care who was kissing her, or touching her or who might end up inside her, in the moment. Just wanted to chase that pleasure, as far as it went. A third hand grabbed her arm, with a gentle, insistent strength. Who was this now, another who wanted her? Another who wanted to taste her lips and feel her body and…

By the Gods, it was her brother! Well, that splashed cold water on her desire, not needing another word to pull herself away from the hedonism playing out before her. She dressed quickly, not bothering with armor at the moment, just fixing her top and breeches. Suddenly Svalis was distracting the priestess, giving them an out from the ceremony. It had been tempting. Too tempting, as she realized they were the only ones declining to join in.

“I think we have seen enough,” Anja decided, taking Lily’s hand to pat it comfortingly. “And we spent half the day traveling, so we should get some rest. But we do look forward to speaking with you again, priestess.”

“Zamira,” She introduced, letting her eyes pass over the group, smiling seductively. The blond man that had been groping Lily turned his attentions to her, not stopping his attention despite the discomfort and building arousal of the group. Perhaps, because of that discomfort and building arousal. “I do hope to get to know you all… so much better.”

Clara slammed him into the wall, held him there with brute strength and the weight of her body. Verrier smiled at the action, rising to the challenge as well as the closeness of her body. "What I did you, Clara?" His expression turned curious. "I merely unlocked what was always there. All in my territory bear the touch of the Primal Chaos. What I did was merely to offer you a choice - accept it, or perish."

His hands traced her back, exploring the curve of her spine through the thin dress she wore. "You say you are 'frozen in time', watching the world but apart from it." His face was close to hers, lips warm, breath hot and sharp-scented. "I say you are more a part of the world then you ever were. The gods crafted the world from the body of Grandmother Tiamat. Her flesh the soil, her bones the earth, her blood the oceans." A nail traced the pulsing vein of her throat. "Your flesh. Your bones. Your blood."

Suddenly he laughed, thrusting her away. His skin thinned, becoming wrinkled and translucent as his hair lightened and greyed and his posture hunched. "You wish to age? Then age!" He flowed again, shrinking as his features softened and his skin tightened. "When you wish to be young," he declared in the high clear voice of a child, "be young!"

And then he was, once more, a man. "But I suspect I will not convince you," he said, taking her hand. "And there is that which I wish to show you. Come, follow me."

---

"What the fuck was all that?" Anja said, voice a little shaky as they entered the inn.

"That," Mykel said cautiously, "was... could it be called heresy?"

"Maybe," Svalis said, voice guarded. "Maybe. It depends on how sincere they are, doesn't it?"

"Sincere?" Anja repeated, disbelief writ large in the word. "They're demons!"

"And humans," Svalis pointed out, signaling to a server. "And they were calling on Afodisia to witness their rites."

"And my father is proof that demons can be redeemed," Mykel pointed out. "And Aeshma, as well."

Anja threw herself into a chair. "I don't like it," she grumped. "And I don't trust them."

---

"As I was saying," Verrier said as he led Clara up steps of polished rose marble towards the great tower, "this is a symbol of the power that I wield. Power that allowed me to survive, free to wage war when my fellows were slain or enslaved. Power enough to shake the Heavens."

He stopped before massive doors of a red-gold metal, worked in intricate abstract designs that could have been trees or animals or nothing at all. Despite the weight they opened easily, silent on their hinges. "Behold, Clara. True power!"

Within was a vast empty space, rising a quarter mile into the air and broken by terraces and walkways of gossamer-fine gold. The walls and floor and terraces were covered with shelves, and the shelves were choked with... books. Books, and scrolls, and bound plaques of metal, and tablets of stone and clay and bark. "Knowledge, Clara," Verrier roared, throwing his arms wide and turning grandly. "The wisdom and learning of men and elves, of demons and monsters, and of the gods themselves!"

Clara tried not to show it, but she was hurt by Verrier’s dismissal of her feelings. Tried not to be hurt by it, because she had told herself and him that she didn’t expect him to understand. And clearly he hadn’t understood, as he tried to demonstrate superficial solutions to her concerns. She was relieved when he changed the subject, taking her hand to lead her up the tower.

They entered the tower together, Clara preparing herself for whatever it was he was going to show her. Preparing herself, and still caught off guard, eyes growing wide as she struggled to take in the enormity of what he was showing her. “Goddess…” she breathed, half cognizant of how it might annoy him, and wishing she could say it had been on purpose. “This is astonishing. You’ve read all of these?” She laughed, and shook her head, “What am I saying, of course you have.”

The smile on his face was infectious, already nearly washing away the hurt she had just felt moments ago. She walked in a wide circle, along the shelves, browsing the covers and titles. There was a thick tome, bound in blue and gold with a black silk ribbon sticking out from the pages. She pulled it form the shelf, a struggle given how tightly packed everything was, and opened it. The calligraphy was magnificent, careful and intricate and spawning the entire page. It was only after a few moment of admiring it that she realized she couldn’t read it.

“Perhaps you’ll teach me to read this, so I can acquire a fraction of your power.” She suggested, holding open the pages for him to see.

---

There was still fire in Lily’s blood as the group extracted themselves from the ceremony. There was still a desire to watch, to participate, to be consumed by the lust of many. She could still taste Zamira on her lips, taste all the others Zamira had kissed during the ceremony, taste the handsome man with the blond hair. She stayed quiet as the others debated the point of the ritual they had witnessed.

“It is strange, but everyone seemed quite willing and enthusiastic about participating,” Rynne reasoned, gesturing with her hands, “Afodisia teaches us there is nothing shameful about sex, when given freely and happily among adults. Even sex with demons isn’t prohibited or deemed sinful.” She explained, even though it need no explanation. Lily and Mykel were proof enough.

“But it’s weird, right? I mean, what would drive a human to fuck a demon?” Eva asked, finding herself looking at Mykel. Because he was the result such a union. Because she was still imagining the blonde twins and still imaging their offer, and still imaging how the four of them would look tangled up in longing.

“The demons are up to something,” Lily said, forcing herself to clear the fantasies running through her mind. “It felt like…recruitment. An incredibly alluring and seductive recruit, that few could resist, I suspect. We need to investigate it, closer. Perhaps one or two of us should try to infiltrate it? Find out what exactly these teachings are, and what they are asking in return for these teachings.

"Of course I've read them all," the Dragon snorted. "Philosophy and poetry and natural philosophy. Apologias and histories and works of fiction." He followed Clara between the shelves, enjoying her stunned delight. "All of them provide insights into the world and its mysteries."

He examined the tome she'd selected, reading the page over her shoulder. "Dearly beloved!
"I have called you often and you have not heard me.
"I have shown myself to you so often and you have not seen me.
"I have made myself fragrance so often, and you have nit smelled me.
"Savorous food, and you have not tasted me.
"Why can you not reach me through the object you youch,
"Or breathe me through sweet perfumes?
"Why do you not see me? Why do you not hear me?
"Why? Why? Why?"

"The Kitab al-Almlkt Aljz al-Nithiel," he added after a moment, closing tye book and tracing the ornate characters embossed in the leather as he did. "Poems written by the last human Calipha of al-Nithiel, before her nation was broken and subjugated by the Veiled Whisper." He thought for a second. "It was part of the Tribute of Meroish, twelve decades ago. And I need not teach you to read it, Clara."

His hands rested lightly on her hips, and he brushed strands of her hair with his lips. "You speak the First Speech, Clara. The primal language of Gods and Dragons alike." His voice was soft, his breath whispering against her ear. "And your eyes and your mind are as fluid and adaptable as your body." He leaned lightly against her, appreciating the strength he felt in the smooth muscles of her current form. "You can read it already, Clara. You need but allow yourself to read it."

---

"Infiltrating it wouldn't be hard," Svalis mused. "It's not as if we weren't invited."

"Is it wise, though?" Eva countered, hesitantly. "It could be... dangerous."

Mykel laughed at that. "And every other part of being a Paladin is safe?"

Eva flushed at that. "No! That's not what I mean," she added hitly. "I mean, what if it is heresy? Whoever joins could be led astray, could put their gifts - even their soul - in jeopardy."

"Good point," Svalis agreed. "But it is the best way to get infirmation."

"Lily and I should do it," Mykel said. He flinched a little at everyone else's sudden looks. "We're both well-schooled in theology and demonology. And, well, we're not entirely human. Would it be so strange that Paladins with celestial blood would be interested in a cult that welcomes demons and humans alike?"

Damn. Every moment spent with Verrier had her on edge. Despair and desire dancing along her heart strings. And now, as he read her poetry, his body just behind hers, just touching, hands gentle on her hips. His words ghosting over her skin once more disarming her.

She needed to focus. Distraction from Verrier, and how he made her feel and how she felt about those feelings and how it all felt as inevitable as death. So she opened the book up again, trying what he had suggested. Let her eyes and mind be fluid and open, to read the words on the page. It took a few moments, moments filled with his breathing and heartbeat, until the words morphed into something she understood.

“Fingers marched like so many soldiers
Into my homeland
Assailing and assaulting and attacking
My better sense, until my walls were breached
Torn down, burnt down and defeated.
There was no defense against you.
There was nothing left of resistance
Or resilience,
Or refusal.
You took paradise from atop me
From within me, your victory
Flooded my valley and
Claimed my kingdom
As yours.”

She snapped the book closed, feeling hotter now, as if her skin were as red as her blood. “It is…quite an impressive collection,” she decided, having found no diversion in text. She fit the book back on the shelf, somehow and walked the length of the shelves. Looking at the titles, but not registering them. The words flowing like stream in the summer. Passing and ephemeral.

It would be harder, this time, to avoid him, to avoid giving in. He had claimed her for his and as much as she resented it, she longed for it. To be his, to be possessed by him and lust and longing and love. To feel connection, real connection. Even if to do so would be to give in. To accept and acknowledge what she was becoming, and what she had lost to become it.

“You never told me what all this…transformation means. For me. What else comes along with it?”

---

Lily nodded along to her brother’s suggestion, finding his reasoning sound. “Right, so we will talk to Zamira tomorrow, and find out how to go about joining them, and what it all involves.”

“So, I guess we are all heading to bed then? Get some rest, ready to face tomorrow with our wits about us?” Anja suggested, settling down on a bed. She and Lily had taken this room, when they split into three pairs to bunk together. No one was really sleepy, not after what they had witnessed, but some privacy did seem like a good idea. Which why Lily was already under the covers as the room emptied out.

Eyes closed, she was back at the orgy. Back sandwiched between Zamira and the blond stranger, while the two of them explored her. Her firm breasts and her tight abs and her long legs. Zamira fingers were teasing her slit, letting her wetness drip along the digits, not entering despite her writhing and squirming. The man kissed her, strong hands palming her breasts and toying with the nipples. Holding her in place, to be taunted and driven mad with need.

Do you fear losing yourself to euphoria?

No. I welcome it.

---

When they taken the rooms this afternoon, it didn’t seem strange to Eva that she would bunk with Mykel. But now that they were alone and she began unlacing her armor, back to Mykel, she found herself hesitating. Fixing on a missed loop, rather than disrobing. Why was it weird, now? It was never weird before. Was it because she had watched a bizarre, hot, demonic orgy beside him? Because they had been propositioned, together? The blonde twins were the stuff of erotic fantasies, and Mykel had looked hot between them. What the fuck did that mean?

“That whole thing was crazy, huh? All those people just going at it, with strangers and even demons, like it didn’t even matter. I mean, I know some of Afodisia’s festivities seem strange to the worshippers of other gods, but even when it’s between the ordained faitful, mostly everyone knows everyone else. I mena that was…mindless sex.” She prattled on, filling the awkwardness with words.

Lily was already horny as fuck from watching and being nearly pulled into the orgy, and Anja made everything that much hotter with her little idea. Or was it Zamira, the well fucked priestess of this strange cult?

“Are you spreading yourself for a demon, in your mind?"

She knew who was asking, from the process of elimination. But it was fun in the moment to pretend like she didn’t. Pretend like she had no idea who was groping and kissing her. Pretend like she had no idea who was going to fuck her brains. “Maybe. Maybe I don’t even care who uses my body for their pleasure. Maybe my body is a vessel for the Goddess, open for her faithful to take their rapture from. Perhaps I am in need of offerings of meat and seed, in honor of our Lady of Love and War.”

She twisted her head enough to kiss the interloper, a dozen unfamiliar faces flashing through her mind. Her own fingers didn’t stop fucking herself, not as slender digits joined her, stretching her pleasantly. Not stopping, even as rougher finger rubbed circles against her clit. “Goddess!” she gasped, and praised, and begged, all the sensations bleeding together in sensual torment, “Goddess, please…use me.” She arched against the man behind her, still imaging him a lustful stranger, hard at the thought of fucking her senseless.

She pinned Zamira (Anja?) beneath her as she recovered, determined to reward the bliss she had already received. Filling that dripping slit with her fingers, amazed at how tight she felt, even after fucking so many men. “Why don’t you fuck me, while I fuck her?” She growled, fitting three fingers into slick, slender channel of the woman beneath her.

---

Maybe she was jealous, just a little. They had been each other’s first after all, and he’d always hold a special place in her heart. She knew he had other women, and she had others as well. They weren’t together. Just friends. Friends that occasionally fucked, when the mood struck or they had too much to drink, or had to watch and not participate in an incredibly erotic ritualistic orgy. Hells, it made sense to fuck now, right? Because this was safer than whatever was going on out there.

He must have agreed, the way he was on her before either of them really knew what was going on. It was so easy to slip back into this with him, so familiar and comforting. "Fuck," he growled, "I want you."

“Are you sure? I mean I am not a pair of hot blonde twins,” Eva teased, hiding her self-consciousness at his preference in joke.

“Shut up,” he hissed against her lips, their mouths coming together again in a ravenous kiss. Her hands were in his pants, stroking his already hard cock Pushing him back onto the bed, she stood over him. Shirtless, perky tits already aching for his touch, but she slapped his hand away a he reached for her.

“Maybe I’m not convinced you really want me,” She taunted, kicking her boots off. Just evading his touch as he reached for her, she shimmied out of her pants. “Maybe I just need to hear that I am not just a convenient fuck for you.”

---

Clara recognized where he was taking her. He had taken her here before, the first time she had come to the mountain. The trophy room, the armory. The room with the skulls of the dead. He thought it would bolster her confidence, to see them. If Gods could be killed, than why was she worried over demons? Even the strongest among them, the Lords they had stylized themselves as, had been brought down by the scores, burnt until they were naught but bleached bones to decorate the weapon room with. That was his logic at least, perhaps one of the first signs he wasn’t capable of relating to her, on her level. But he had tried, and had endeared her to him, at least somewhat.

“I’ve seen this before. The first time I was here. Your triumphs in the war against the heavens.” She reminded him, stopping short of the door. Still, she could see the skulls in her mind, whispering unfathomable madness to her. Raw power still clinging to the bones, an empty symbol of their once glory.” I…Do you really need to show me once more?”

Anja gasped as Lily pinned her to the bed, gasped again as orgasm-slick finges pushed roughly into her own wet cunt. "Goddess," she moaned, fingernails digging into Lily's ass, spreading her wide as she did. "Fuck me like that!" She spread her thighs wider, opening herself to Lily's hand. "Fuck me!" shd begged, body arching in a desperate attempt to take Liky deeper.

Meanwhile, the unseen figure behind Liky shifted and moved, hard abdomen pressing against her rear. A thick cock bobbed against her thighs as a callused hand explored her slit, then jerked as that hand stroked up and down yo lubricate his length with her juices. Therecwas no warning when he took her. Just a blunt head pressing against her lips and a sudden thrust, impaling her on his thick length. A hand gripped her shoulder and another took a fistfull of her hair, pulling her back onto his meat as he roughly fucked her

---

"You're not just a convenient fuck," Mykel insisted, drawing back a little. "You're my best friend, Eva. And, yeah, those blondes got me really hot. And the idea if sharing them with you got me hot. But..." He shrugged. "If I just wanted to get off, I could jerk off somewhere and get some sleep."

He held out a hand. "I want you because I enjoy you. Because we're bith turned on, and I want to get you off. And yeah, because I wanna fuck." He leaned forward. "I want to fuck you, Eva. Hard and deep, until we're both too tired to think about blondes ir demons or anything but falling asleep."

---

Verrier walked past articulated skeletons of angels and racks of heaven-forged weapons, listening to a thousand year's accumulation of precious stones and coins crunch underfoot as he did. "This is not what we're here for," he said, waving a dismissive hand at the skull of Verdan, the dead Forest Lord. "Unkess you want to stop and look at them."

He kept walking, following a narrow path around the heaped mountain of treasure that served him as a bed. In the distance, a dim red glow could be seen dancing on the coins and casting odd shadows on the sculptures that lined the walls. "We are here for another purpose, one I believe you will appreciate. Astrid! Attend me!"

As he rounded the pike, a young woman scrambled to her feet. She was, perhaps, seventeen, witb long wavy hair a red so dark it appeared black, and grey eyes, and a powerful build softwned by the flowing gown of black and crimsin silk she wore. In her haste she knocked iver her oil lamp. "My lord!" she gasped, stooping to right it once more. "I... that is..."

"You were sitting, Astrid. Nothing more." He looked her iver. "Are you still decided on this course?"

"Yes, my lord," she saidm nodding. "I... that is, I wish to..."

Verrier laughed. "Then choose your dowry wisely, fir we shall depart when you are done." With that he crissed to ine of the racks of weapons in the wall, selecting a keen'edged silver sword nearly six feet in length. "And it will include this: Verohars, the Light of Destruction. The battle-blade of the Seraph Za'monviqima Lord of the Third Host and leader of the seventh Scourge."

Astrid's eyes were wide as she took it, handling it lightly with one hand. Verrier laughed again, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a jagged white scar on his upper arm. "It has tasted dragon blood once, and its master found the taste bitter. I advise against seeking a second draught."

Astrid's eyes went wide. "My lord! I... I would never..!"

Shaking hid head, he fell backwards into the coins with a metallic crunch. "The thought must have crossed your mind Astrid," he chuckled, "or you would have been a poor student indeed. But where are your manners? Have you no words of greeting for your cousin, Astrid Heldasdottor?"

Lily fucked Anja the way she wanted to be fucked. Hard and deep, three fingers almost thick enough to simulate a cock. Bicep flexing as she stroked into her slit, enjoying the clenching of Anja’s strong, firm body. Would Zamira beg her, spread herself for her, gasp and moan like a whore as she took her? Or would she be the one taken, enslaved to her own desire, and the desires of others? Dozens of others.

Fuck, the thought had her so hot and wet, quivering as the hard cock behind her prodded her thigh. She bucked back against the unseen iron rod, gasping as it pressed against her throbbing clit as it traced her needy lips. Not that she was left waiting for long, split apart on a nice thick cock.

“Fuck!” She snarled, enjoying the hint of pain as it pounded her far wall. Followed up by a snarled gasp as her hair was pulled, arching her into the cock. Combined with the stinging bite of Anja’s nails in her ass and back, Lily was delirious with nirvana, Thrusting back against her mysterious stranger. “Use me. Goddess, yes, use me! Use this Paladin cunt to get off. Make a whore out of me!!!”

---

Eva was biting her lip as Mykel appealed to her. Damn, she felt like an idiot for being insecure or jealous or whatever it was she had been, and damn, it would be fun to share a pair of twins with him. Next time, maybe. Hopefully. But he told her he wanted her, and it was all she needed to hear in the moment.

So she let herself be pulled on his lap, grinding her wet pussy on his erection, through his pants. Teasing him, and herself. “I want you,” she admitted, biting at his lip, “Even if we had ended up joining that orgy, I would have wanted you. At least once, at some point in the evening. Maybe while a couple of hot blondes lick my clit. And after that, one could eat your cum out of me while you fucked her from behind. Make her scream from how good you’d fuck her.”

While she admitted her fantasies her hands were in his shirt, caressing and enjoying the feel of hard pecs. Enjoying the feel of calloused hands tracing her back, holding her in place as she leaned back some. “Dammit, I want you inside me.”

---

“Cousin?” Astrid gasped, staring at Clara. Staring at the Lady of the Mountain, as Verrier had so called her.

“My mother was Helga’s sister,” Clara explained, “So your aunt. Which makes us cousins.” She looked over the girl, smiling warmly. Family she’d hardly knew, but family nonetheless. “You must have been a little girl last time I visited. No surprise that you don’t remember me.”

Astrid turned red in embarrassment, “Sorry, cousin…”

“Nonsense,” Clara shook her head, “Who’s the lucky man? Or woman?”

“Prince Ellistair, of Landis.” She explained, beaming with pride and love. Was a woman ever more beautiful than when she was in love?

“Well, I wish you the utmost happiness in your union. Hard to believe it’s been twenty years since my own wedding.” Clara mused, chuckling nostalgically.

“Your wedding? You’re married?” Astrid clarified, glancing between her and Verrier.

“I am.” She announced, ignoring any response from Verrier. He may have laid claim to her, but he did not possess her. No one possessed her. “I have two husbands and two wives. And three children. By marriage, not blood.” The last admittance carried a hint of sorrow, but she forced a big smile. “Sue was actually pregnant at the ceremony, and Goddess, how she glowed.” Clara joined Verrier now, leaning against the mounds of gold like a chaise.

“When is the wedding?”

Anja's tongue filled Lily's mouth is a sloppy, hungry kiss that cut off herwords. "Not... like a... a whore..." she moaned, having trouble concentrating as Lily fucked her. "An... fuck, like that! An offering to.... to.... Goddess! Oh, fuck! A... Afodesia!" Her voice rose to a keening wail as she came, thrashing beneath Lily, cunt gripping her fingers like a honey-coated vise.

The man behind her continued to plow deep, the blunt head of his thick cock striking her far wall with every thrust. He remained silent, except for the grunts and gasps he uttered - anonymous animal sounds of pleasure. "Goddess," Anja moaned. "Goddess, offer her your pleasure. ?"

---

"I'd have wanted you," Mykel replied. Shifting so Eva could push his pants down over his narrow hips, he groaned as she gripped his shaft. "After we fucked those two into exhaustion." At her request - demand - he crawled over her, head sliding over her slick lips as she explored his bare back and hips with her hands. He kissed her deeply as he pushed slowly into her, feeling her walls stretch aroung his length as he filled her.

---

"Two husbands and two wives?" Astrud sounded both confused and intrigued. "Isn't that..? I mean..?" Her cheeks flushed a little as ideas filled her mind. "But... don't you get... jealous?"

"I would think not," Verrier remarked, staring up at the distant ceiling. "They are all hers, after all. And the wedding is in... two weeks, yes?"

"Twelve days!" Astrid corrected excitedly, stooping to pick up a black leather scabbard chased with silver. It was clearly too small for the massive angelic blade she held. Or it would have been until the sword writhed and shrank in her hand.

"I stand corrected," Verrier replied dryly. "Twelve days."

Sheathing the transformed sword, Astrid buckled it around her waist. It should have been an idd accessiry to the gown she wore, but it suited her. "Will... will my father be able to attend?"

"Hrothgar is overseeing the Tribute of Sarnia," Verrier answered, sitting up. "If he manages his time wisely, it will be here in two days. And it is only three hundred miles to Landis - if he rode without stopping he could make that in a day and a night."

Clearly relieved, Astrid began looking through the collected wealth of Verrier's hoard. The Dragon watched her choices with interest. Jewelry, for the most part. Necklaces and bracelets, and a couple of rings after she checked they would fit. Some wealth in the form of coins and gems. And, pragmatically, a couple of daggers and a shirt of silvered mail. "What would you suggest, Clara, as an addition to her dowry? You have more practical experience in this area than either of us, after all."

Lily wanted fuck Anja(Zamira) senseless, wanted to succumb to lust and carnal passion. It was a rough fucking, one that would leave her sore and tender in the morning, but in the moment it was hot. It was exactly what she needed. Maybe not exactly what she wanted, still wishing she could have joined the orgy, no matter how ill-advised that was.

Still, she drove three fingers into Anja, even as she quivered and moaned and her speech became incomprehensible. Her thumb teased Anja’s clit, finding it stiff and throbbing. Her own clit throbbing in response, enjoying the feel of Anya’s silken folds and the heat of her body. Moaning as Anja tightened around her, her climax as erotic as achieve one herself. Which really, wasn’t far off. So she met hungry lips with her own, using Anja’s mouth to stifle her cries of pleasure.

Cries that turned into screams, as this aggressive fucking satisfied a primal urge inside her. She offered one arm back behind, encourage her mystery lover to grab it, pull her back into his stroke and arch her back further. “I’m…I’m sooooo…yes!” She growled, a throaty sound of ecstasy.

---

Eva shuddered as he filled her, as her body accepted and welcomed him. Strong arms keeping his body to close to hers, so his chest rubbed against her breasts as he moved within her. “Fuck, Mykel,” she groaned, her legs wrapped around his thighs to pull him in deeper. “Get me off. Get me off on that thick cock,” she sighed into his ear, nails dragging down his firm back, appreciating the way he tensed from the slight sting of pain. Finally, his entire length was within her, as her hips bridged to meet his. She clenched him, her entire body wrapping around him and holding her close against and inside her. “Goddess…you feel so good. You always feel so fucking good.”

---

“Well, traditionally, your dowry would be used to start building a home with your love. However, with your betrothed being a prince, it might not be entirely necessary. Still, coming into this with your own wealth puts you on more equal terms. Not necessary, not by any means, but it certainly helps.” Clara advised.

“In my experience, a partnership between equals is the most satisfying relationship, though it has its challenges as well. It means picking your battles, as well as standing up for yourself. It’s a delicate balance. Fight over everything, and you’ll never find that common ground that lets love bloom. Let yourself be walked all over, and you’ll resent your love, and resent their happiness, especially when it comes at your expense.” She elaborated, drawing on decades of married life.

“That said, if you were more interested in objects over advice, you can’t go wrong with a pair of horses. Ride them together with your love and breed them, let their number grow and your family does.”

The mystery man behind her seized Lily"s wrist, using her arm as a handle to fuck himself on her quivering sex. The movements were harsh, unconcerned with her own sensations as he used her body to jerk himself off. His cock seemed to thicken, stretching her walls around his girth as he used her. Still he remained silent, uttering only gasps and grunts as he pounded himself into her.

Anja's fingers were slick with cum as they cupped Liky's breasts, squeezing and stroking them in time with the relentless fucking. "You look so fucking good," she moaned, caressing stiff nippkes with the soft moist heat of hrr tongue. "And you taste fucking good," she added, forcing one and then two slick fingers into Liky's mouth. "Are you going to get off? Get off on getting fucked by a stranger? Getting filled with a strange man's cum?" Her fingers thrust deep into Lily's mouth, mimicing the cock buried in her, and her lips traced a curved breast before katching onto a nipple.

Lily's throaty cries filled the air, followed a moment later by a gutteral sound of release from the man behind her. The anonymous cock thickened and pulsed, flooding her womb with heat as cum spurted into her clenching slit. "Goddess, you look so fucking hot when you cum," Anja groaned, drinking down the last if Lily's cries of pleasure. Her fingers toyed with the cloth bound around her eyes. "Maybe we should leave this on you? Let you winder how many different men will have you." Her tongue filled Lily's mouth as a final spurt if semen dripped down her thigh. "Would you like that? Anonymously used all night by anyone who walks by?"

---

"Goddess," Mykel breathed as Eva's thighs opened, letting his full length sink into her. "You feel so fucking good on me." He heard her little gasp as her calves hooked around his hips and her nails rasped down his back, his weight pressing her deep into the mattress. Then he moaned a little as he began moving, reveling in the feel of her bidy against his, and the soft heat enveloping his shaft.

His lios found hers, tongues sliding and exploring as he moved within her. His hands fisted in her auburn hair, arching her neck so he coukd bite along the pulsing vein of her throst. She moaned, nails digging into the flesh if his ass as she tugged, encouraging him to fuck harder. He complied, his cock slipping in and out of her depths as she moaned and arched up to meet his thrusts.

"Goddess, I want to taste you," he whispered against her skin. His fangs, a gift of the demonic heritage he'd inherited from his father, lengthened and scraped along her throat. "I want to taste you."

---

"Oh, there will be horses," Verrier laughed. "Have I shown you my stables? Their like is not to be found elsewhere in the world."

"Prince Ellistair certainly has his own household," Astrid laughed. "But... I'll try to remember your advice. Although Lord Verrier said that I should just take what I wish and that the string prosper." She considered that. "So, I guess it's a matter of deciding what I actually want?"

"It often is," Verrier agreed, sitting up and rising with a fluid motion. "Now, are you ready?"

Astrid hesitated. "I suppose I should change into travelling clothes," she said, grunting with the effort of hefting her dowry. "I love this dress, but it's nit really suitable for riding."

Verrier nodded. "Then go and infirm your mither, and ensure the horses are saddled. Six of them, a stalliin and five mares. Four for riding, and two as pack animals." He watched as Astrid staggered off, shaking with the effort of carrying the chest, and nodded approvingly. "I question the match," he finally said. "Ellistar is something of a... what is the wird? A dandy? And your cousin is wild and headstrong and opinionated."

He offered Clara a hand. "Still, he asked and she acceoted, and it will bind Landis closer to my authority. And she will, I suspect, bring a delightful vitality to the court. Shall I show you my horses, while we wait?"

Lily collapsed against Anja once her orgasm subsided, and she was left dripping with the cum of her mystery lover. Trying not to shudder as Anja teased her, embarrassed by how hot she found the idea. Afodisia celebrates all acts of love, and sex between Paladins was always encouraged to strengthen the bonds between them, but it still felt strange, to enjoy this as much as she did. To want to participate in the real thing, that was happening just a little way away, under the full moon. “This was hot. Feeling you get off underneath me as I got fucked.” She admitted, cuddling up to her sweat slick friend, enjoying the warmth of her soft body. “We have to do this again…soon.”

A yawn cut off her words, exhausted by the pleasantly harsh fucking she could still feel on her flesh. A distraction, she knew, because she still wanted to participate in the real thing. Even knowing it could be dangerous, could be a trap, she still wanted what Anja teased her with. Her body, as the vessel of pleasure in honor of the Goddess, in salvation of the masses.

---

Goddess, Mykel knew just what she liked, just how she wanted to be fucked. Slow, hard strokes, reaching into her depths, setting her desire aflame. Each thrust made her want more, made her cling tighter to him, made her push back against him. Craving him, all of him, craving closeness she couldn’t put into words, just the desperate movements of her body. And then, his confession, as fangs scraped her throat? She nearly came, gasping out as he buried himself within her.

“Bite me…” she begged, hardly recognizing her own voice as it spoke the words. “Taste… me…” She whimpered as her skin resisted him, for just a moment, before parting to grant him access just as her slit had. Fingers tangled in his raven hair, unable to believe the euphoria that followed. Blood seemed to flow form her body to his, eager to join him, to give everything over to him for just one more moment of heaven. And then there was a cry of loss as he pulled off of her, her blood shockingly red on his lips and chin, dripping down to her breasts. She pulled him into the kiss, unable and unwilling to let him go as the coppery flavor stained his lips.

“Don’t…Oh goddess, please don’t stop,” Eva pleaded, nails digging into his back hard enough she was sure she’d draw blood too. “Please…don’t…” Rapture stole her voice and her mind, offering more of her neck, or shoulder or breasts to his hunger.

---

"I question the match," he finally said. "Ellistar is something of a... what is the word? A dandy? And your cousin is wild and headstrong and opinionated."


“Perhaps it was her wild, and headstrong opinions that attracted him? Perhaps he finds that fire to be more alluring than any other virtue, and wishes to infuse that into the royal bloodline?” Clara suggested, hopeful, for the girl. Wanting the future she had once imagined for herself for Astrid.

“Shall I show you my horses, while we wait?"

She found herself smiling at the offered hand, the symbol of it. He was trying, wasn’t he? So she took it, folding her fingers in with his own. Remembering her own words to her cousin, from just a few minutes before. Fight over everything, and you’ll never find that common ground that lets love bloom.

“I’d like that. I always loved horses. The feel of the wind in your hair as they gallop along a road it’s like…” flying, she almost said, but bit her tongue before the word came out. She had flown, on her own wings. And it had been exhilarating, and scary at times. Of course, she was more afraid of losing herself to the immense form she had taken rather than falling. Forcing a smile, she looked at Verrier, “it’s incredible to have a bond and trust between yourself and your mount. Very little can actually compare.”

And as she spoke the words, did she comes face to face with the past. Shock lit up in her eyes, words failing to capture what she had seen. Finally, a single name, “…Beauty?”

There was a neigh, an acknowledgement, even though it was clearly impossible. It had been over twenty years since she had ridden that horse up the mountain, and had to leave it behind as she rode back down on Verrier’s back. But everything was the same, right down to the discoloration on her right foreleg. “How…?”

Mykel nearly came at the feel of Eva's soft skin parting beneathhis fangs, and at the spurt of hot blood that filled his mouth. The flavor was incredible, salty and intimate and erotic as hell, and from her cries he knew she felt the same. This had always been their secret, the litttle thrill they'd shared since tgey were barely old enough to understand that boys and girls were different. From the time she'd skinned a knee after tripping, and he'd lapped the blood that oozed from the scrape.

The temptatiin to drink more was always there, nto drain her, instead he pulled away, gasping with effort, watching the ruby blood trickle and poo, in the hollow of her throat, and drip over her bare breasts. She pulled him down, tasting her life on his tongue and lips, exploring his teeth, and she came with a shudder as he lapped the blood from her skin and sealed te wound.

"Eva!" he gasped, driving himself into her one last time. His tongue filled her mouth, hands gripping her face as he bucjed into her, filling her with his pleasure. Finally, spent, he sagged into her. "Goddess," he murmured, lapping a sticky droplet of blood from the cirner of her mouth. "I needed that. And you."

---

Verrier itched as they crossed the fortress, fighting the impukse to return to his preferred shape. His true form, not this soft mask of humanity. He could feel the scales sprouting along his back and down his arms, and dismissed them with an act of will. Tge sooner Clara accepted what she was, the better.

His stables, although shaped out of living stone and beautiful to behold, still had the loom and smell of stables. Horses stared from the stalls, watching with slitted eyes as they passed through and into a courtyard where six were being prepared. Five were obvioysly changed beasts, with ripping canine fangs and burning red eyes, although they were still coloted like ordinary horses. One glossy black, one grey, one chocolate brown with a white nose, one with dappled flanks, and one grey and brown with brown socks. The last, though., was different.

He smiled at Clara's gasp of "...Beauty? How..?"

"You left her behind," Verrier replued. "And, since I wasn't particularly hungry at the time, I added her to my collection. I find it useful to breed new stovk back in, from time to time."

He could see from her expression that he hadn't answered her question. "All of my horses are fed small amounts of my blood, mixed with barley and oats. It... strengthens them. And, iver time, offers more desirable traits as well." He caught the black stallion's reins, jerking the head diwn and displaying the fangs. "Omnivory, for instance. And a predatory instinct, and greater intelligence."

Eva held Mykel against her breast, stroking through his sweat slick hair and enjoying the afterglow. Just as he suggested, she felt satisfied, and exhausted and confident. Regardless of of how they might explore or enjoy others, he was always there, to come back to. To be the safe, familiar embrace she could always count on.

“It was fun,” she giggled, even though that was off. It was more than that, more than mere pastime, more than just getting off. “I’m glad you decided you didn’t want to just go jack off somewhere.” Planting a kiss on his forehead, she settled into bed, into a comfortable position. Not that it was hard, they had slept like this many times before. Her eyes closed as her breathing calmed, becoming slow and rhythmic as sleep weighed upon her. Still, it wasn’t so easy to sleep, with doubts still in her mind.

“You…you’ll be careful, right?” She whispered, stroking his bare arms. “I mean, I know we’re paladins, and facing danger is our duty, but…this isn’t the sort of danger we prepared for. Bodily harm, not threats to our souls. I just…” the words evaporated into the still of the night. She was quiet for awhile before sighing. “Just, don’t let it go too far, okay?”

The concern had her feeling vulnerable, as if she had admitted something deeply held to him. As if this had moved beyond being best friends and into something else. Anxiety rose in her gut at the worry, and she needed to quiet it once more, and diffuse any tension. So she forced a smirk, and nuzzled his nose.

“And, if you get another chance to get at those twins, fuck them good and hard for me too, yeah?”

---

“Why does a dragon need horses? I mean, I imagine you don’t eat these ones.” Clara asked, fingers stroking Beauty’s mane. “And flying faster than riding could ever be.” Besides, you like being the dragon, she didn’t say, but it was on the tip of her tongue.

“Don’t get me wrong. It is impressive, to see how much your blood changes them,” Clara admitted, walking the length of the stable to get a better look at his stock. “On the way up here, the first time, we encountered wolves. Dire wolves, almost as big as a horse. Not one of these horses, mind you, but nearly twice as big as a wolf. They took down one of our horses and broke Sigurd’s arm. It was a nasty battle, as fierce as any demon, but Thora managed to tame one. Soothe the rage that coursed through its blood, she said. She used it as a mount and ally, and eventually a pet. We named her Hope. She’s getting up there, but still pretty strong and active. I guess she has your blood, too.”

Just like me. The thought crept up, threatening to once more disrupt her good mood. To shatter the goodwill and affection building between them. What had he said before, that he just wanted to if what would happen if he gave her his blood? To see how she might change. Like the horses and the wolves, and all the other creatures touched by his presence. She was just another thing in his domain, a lesser being that he was free to experiment on because he could. Because she did not stop him. There was another sigh, as she knew she was just irritating herself. There was a wedding to look forward to, and she had to be happy and supportive, for her cousin’s sake. Still, despite trying, honestly trying to let it go, she just couldn’t. Not with the next question out of her mouth.

“Am I just another experiment, like these horses? Another being in your domain you can test on, because you feel like it. Do you see me that way I see horses?”

"I'll be careful," Mykel agreed, feeling suddenly awkward. Nit from where he was or what he'd been doing, but from a feeling like something was changing. Which was ridiculous, right? Eva was his best friend. It wasn't as if they were in love or anything. Just because they spent much of their time together, and paired off together, and did everything together, and he looked forward to seeing her...

"Yeah. Blondes. I will." He wrapped his arms around her, nuzzling her back. "And if everything works out, and they're sincere? Maybe I'll bring them home."

Home.

The word was jarring, and somehow pleasant. And it nagged at him as he drifted off to sleep.

---

"The wild beasts do not," Verrier replied. "But I am of the primordial Chaos, but two generations removed from mother Tiamet herself. My prsesnce..." he considered his words. "I do not warp or taint the world, as the gods claim. But my presence unravels the order the gods have wrought, making form more... mutable. A wolf, for example, seeks to be more of a wolf. Bigger, stronger, faster. And so, over generations, this is what they become."

Clara fell silent, brooding on his answer. Finally, bitterly, she spoke. "Am I just another experiment, like these horses? Another being in yiur domain you can test on, like these horses? Do you see me that way I see horses?"

"From my perspectiv, Clara, is there much difference between men and horses?" Verrier threw a blanket over the huge black stallion, and then chain barding. "Every human being in my territory is part of a grand experiment. I am curious, you see, to kearn if they can become something greater than the stunted skaves the gods made of them. I am uncertain, as yet, if I have succeeded."

He staered at her over the horse's shoulder, his crimson eyes alien and ancient. "You, Clara Olgasdottor, are something unexpected. Shot through with chaos, strengthened by the order of the gods. I did not make you what you are now. I merely unlocked what was within you already."

Looking in the mirror, Lily found herself concerned over her appearance. Making more of a fuss than she would normally give. There was something about the knowledge that she was meeting with Zamira that made her self-conscious and nervous. The olive-skinned beauty had haunted her dreams last night, along with the mysterious blond stranger, reliving the not-so-anonymous sex she had last night. Her taste had stayed with her, unspoken promises carried on her lips.

The door to her brother’s room had opened, bring her back into the present. Back to the mission, to find out what was really going on here. Sincerity or subterfuge. Meeting Zamira for breakfast, to hear her explain in greater detail what it was that Furtan was offering the mortals who lived here, and what it was he asked of them. Nodding to Mykel, she asked, “You ready?”

---

Unlocked what was within you already. It was the second time he had said that, and she wondered what he meant by that. Wanted to ask him what he meant, and if it was his way of absolving himself of responsibility. And Astrid had returned, in a sensible tunic and breeches, with Helga following in close behind her. Now wasn’t the time.

“Aunt Helga,” Clara smiled, moving to hug the aunt she had meet three times now.

“Clara,” her aunt replied, hugging her back just as tight, before taking a moment to look at her, “I still swear you like Olga. Has it really been twenty years since I first mistook you for her? Because I feel it, but you don’t look it.”

Clara forced a smile, but she didn’t want to talk about that now, “So, Hrothgar, hmm?”

It was Helga’s turn to laugh now, “Well, you have to find some way to pass time here. And there is only so long you can go reading books.” They shared that laugh, until Clara met Verrier’s eyes over her aunt’s shoulder. Looking away, she noticed Astrid have some trouble with her dowry, and picking it all up.

“Let me help you with that,” Clara insisted, hefting the bags like it was nothing. “I’ve never been to Landis, what’s it like?”

“Hmm?” Astrid asked, clearly distracted.

“Landis. You’ve been before, yes? When you met Ellistair? Or did he meet you here?”