Chapter 9: Betrayed

Knight Angela – Dominari’s Lair, Despeir Mountains

The goddess’s words struck me like a blow. The white light washed over me, assaulting me with truth and...

I witnessed.

King Edward IV of Secare groaned and gasped as he lay on his back, a youthful maiden of fiery hair riding his cock. Around him, three other Secaran maidens watched, their eyes lidded with lust. One nuzzled the red-haired maiden’s throat, the girl gasping in a foreign tongue as she rode the king’s cock.

“Fill her up with your cum!” the licking maiden purred.

What is going on, I thought, blinking in shock as I floated disembodied in the room, staring down. Is this ... the Sekar Oracle? Is this King Edward’s coronation? He became king not long before I received my Quest. Like every king before him, he ventured up the Lone Mountain to hear a prophecy to guide his rule.

Why is Slata showing me this?

“Slata’s cunt, yes!” groaned King Edward, his face twisting in pleasure “Work that pussy, Oracle. I’m gonna cum so hard.”

I just killed him. I just killed the king. Why was he even here?

“Yes!” moaned another of the Oracle’s attending maiden, humping against the King’s thigh, cumming. “Yes, yes, yes.”

The King’s face twisted with passion. The Oracle slammed down his cock, her apparently youthful body writhing as she screamed her orgasmic pleasure. Emerald light shone from her eye and mouth.

And then she spoke ancient music and the maiden cumming on the King’s thigh translated:

“You shall die, Mighty King, upon the Hero’s Blade.

The High King’s Empire shall rise once more.

The Hero of the Lilies departs on perilous quest.

Duty shall compel her darkness,

But vengeance shall compel your death.

You shall die, Mighty King, upon the Hero’s Blade”

The Sekar Oracle predicted I would kill King Edward? Confusion wreathed me as the world blurred around my disembodied form. What was going on? If he hadn’t hurt Sophia, I never would have killed him. He was my king.

I floated now in a bedchamber, blonde Queen Lavinia lounging on a bed, belly swollen with pregnancy. The King sat at a nearby desk, an elderly man with a bald pate talking to him. I swallowed, trembling. The Lesbius Oracle said we were all betrayed. Me, my friends, even Lady Delilah.

Why would Slata want to show us this? What did she hope to gain?

“I don’t need to hear the words again!” King Edward snapped at the old man holding a piece of paper. He had just finished reciting the prophecy. “They’ve echoed in my head for the last three days. What do they mean? Who is this hero, and why shall she kill me?”

Because you hurt my Sophia!

“Yes, she is right,” the old man nodded. “Very surprising. Scholars had long thought the Hero would be male, and yet the Oracle’s words refute that theory.”

“What are you talking about?” demanded the king.

“This prophecy is one of the simplest ever given down by the Oracle.” A smile crossed the advisor’s aged face. “So simple.”

“Then speak plain and explain how I may thwart the future.”

Is this how I was betrayed? King Edward wanted to kill me to save his own life?

“Have you forgotten the studies of your youth, Your Majesty? Did your father waste all his money on those tutors.”

The king grinned in a slimy fashion. “Not all the tutors.”

“Yes, I imagine the sort of lessons you endeavored at,” laughed the old man. “I hope you know of the High King.”

“I mean to recreate his empire and not let some woman do it.” The King sneered. “How can a woman even hope to rule?”

Sophia believed I could do it. And I have a cock now. And you’re dead. You hurt her!

“The Hero was prophesied as High King Peter lay dying,” explained the advisor. “His final words were a promise that his descendant would claim his sword and restore his empire. For Peter knew that he died without heir and his empire was doomed to shatter. Once dead, his words were so feared, his sword, forged by the God Krab himself, was shattered and hidden throughout the Empire.”

“If he died without heir, how could he have a descendant to reclaim his throne?”

“He had descendants. Only none were male. Lily, his third child by his second wife. All his sons died, but his daughter survived and had children.”

The king frowned. “That sounds familiar. Wasn’t there a curse?”

“Holy Slata was angered at her husband Pater’s devotion to his bastard son Peter. She cursed Peter and ensured all his sons died, and that his daughter Lily and all her descendants would only birth women. As I said, the prophecy is simple. One of Lily’s descendants shall kill you.”

The King glowered. “And how many of those are there? It’s been a thousand years. Do we even know her bloodline after so long?”

“Of course.” The advisor grabbed a book from a pile on the kings desk. At the same moment, a draft rustled the room. Queen Lavinia gasped, looking up from her embroidery. A sly smile crossed her lips.

What?

The king looked to his balcony and there stood Lady Delilah.

What is she doing here? My heart raced at the sight of the red-haired woman. Is this where she gave the King the amulet by mistake? Is that the betrayal Slata wants me to believe? Stubborn anger filled me. She trusted the King. That’s not betrayal.

The King’s breath caught at the sight of Lady Delilah. She is an enchanting creature. Even this pig lusts for her. Her armor clinked as she walked towards him, the chainmail loincloth swinging between her thighs. But you don’t know she can grow a cock, do you?

They didn’t hear me.

“When did you return, Lady Delilah?” gasped the King.

“Oh, I have been back for a few days,” she answered with a smile then nodding at Queen Lavinia. “Have you solved your little prophecy yet?” she asked as she sat beside the King.

“I have,” the adviser said, his eyes growing hard. “How have you heard of it?”

My stomach roiled. She knew about his prophecy?

Lady Delilah smiled back at the old man. “I would love to know who you think the Hero of Lilies is? Which of the High King’s descendants shall kill our noble king?”

“As I was about to explain before your ... um ... timely arrival, the answer lies in this book.” He tapped the tome. It had a stuffy title: The Complete Genealogy of Lily of Hamilten, Princess of the Realm, Twenty-Third Revision. “The College of Allenoth has kept meticulous track of Lily and her descendants. Currently, there are eighteen living descendants scattered across the Old Empire’s lands. Including five living in our kingdom.”

Me, my mother, my two cousins.

“And which is the one that will kill me?” the King demanded.

What was Lady Delilah doing here?

“Yes. The telling line is ‘The Hero of Lilies departs on a perilous quest.’ It really was quite easy to deduce. Only one of Lily’s descendants is a Knight. Her name is Angela, and according to Lord-Commander William, she will shortly finish her squireship and embark upon her Quest to earn her spurs and become a full Knight Deute. She is the daughter of Count Francis and his second wife, Countess Agnes, who herself can trace her lineage back to Lily in an unbroken line of mothers and daughters.”

“Then she must die,” Queen Lavinia said, her hands rubbing at the curve of her pregnant belly.

A chill shuddered through me. I would have to ... deal with that child to conquer Secare.

“Yes,” the King agreed, glancing at Lady Delilah.

“She must surely die to protect your kingdom,” Delilah answered, her lips curling in a smile.

The words slapped me. What was Lady Delilah doing? Why was she plotting my death with the King?

“This must be delicately done, Your Majesty,” the advisor said. “The Knights Deute protect our realm. But they are neutral in manners of politics. If we are found to interfere, there could be ... repercussions.”

Lady Delilah laughed.

The advisor glared at her. “Do you have something to add, madam?”

“Killing her will be no great chore. She is about to embark on her Quest!”

I wanted to throw up.

“And?” the King asked. “It is rare for a Knight to die on a Quest.”

Lady Delilah leaned forward and rested her hand on his thigh. “Not all Quests are equal. There is one that has been attempted many times and not been completed.”

The king scowled. “But the Quests are drawn by lots. That is one Quest in a hundred. I cannot gamble the future of my kingdom on such low odds.”

“Then rig it.”

Lady Delilah put this in motion? She made sure that I would have to go on the quest to fight Dominari? Anger surged through me. It wasn’t chosen by chance? She set me up? Manipulated us into such danger? She risked Sophia’s life time and time again so that her plan to restore Peter’s empire would happen?

Fire raged in me. My Sophia wouldn’t be lying badly wounded, maybe dying, if Lady Delilah hadn’t changed my destiny. She lied! She said the King wanted to help me! What else has she lied about?”

Acolyte Sophia

“Witness the truth of your betrayal, Sophia ev’Tith,” Slata said as the refreshing, milky potion poured down my throat, shocking my thoughts out of sluggish pain.

And then the white light slammed into me.

Confusion held me. I floated, disembodied, in a room staring down at people I knew.

The High Virgin Vivian, the highest-ranked member of Saphique’s church and leader of the Temple of the Pure, sat in a room with King Edward of Secare. At her side was Virgin-Superior Elizabeth, the administrator of the Temple of the Pure. Queen Lavinia embroidered in the corner while an old man with a bald head sat by the King.

Why am I seeing this?

“What you are asking is ... improper, King Edward,” High Virgin Vivian said slowly, her words careful.

“Do you want to see Secare and the world consumed by chaos of the High King’s Empire restored?” said King Edward.

What? Are they talking about ... Angela?

“I do not,” the High Virgin said. “But the Knights Deute have always entrusted the Temple of the Pure to fairly choose their Quests for their female knights. Why should we betray that trust?”

Betray? The very idea shocked me. Saphique trusted our order to aid the Knights Deute.

“For the future,” insisted the King.

“Your future,” responded the High Virgin.

Virgin-Superior Elizabeth snorted a laugh.

“Angela must die, but it must look accidental,” King Edward said.

Die? I screeched, wishing they could hear me. This is why you sent Fireeyes after us? To protect your kingdom? How did you even know that Angela would walk down this path?

“The good of all the Kingdoms is at stake,” continued the King. “It will be war if Angela somehow tries to press the High King’s claim. Haz, Valya, Thlin, Athlos, and the Principalities will rise up. Even the Magery of Thosi will become involved. This could plunge the continent into decades of suffering.” You just want to hold onto your power! My Queen will make the world better!

The High Virgin glanced at Elizabeth who arched an eyebrow. “But such a betrayal of trust is monumental. It might offend even our holy Goddess.”

It would. How can you even consider this? You’re her High Virgin! Saphique entrusted her church to your guidance!

“An offering could be arranged,” the King said.

“A bribe?” Elizabeth asked. “Something the Knights Deute could point at and cry foul.”

The old man studied Elizabeth for a moment then said, “A concession, then.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Your father granted our temples exemption from tax collection for five years. That ends next spring.”

You would betray our goddess for that? For money? Disgusted fire raged in me.

King Edward paled. “My father was senile when he made that decision. The coffers need that income of the lands—”

“They do not,” the old man interrupted. “And even if they did, the price can be borne. Right, Your Majesty?”

The King froze. “Right. Perspective. Fine. I will have it extended for another year.”

“Twenty.” Elizabeth countered.

“Five. Be reasonable.”

“Fifteen,” suggested the High Virgin.

This is disgusting! You’re betraying our Goddess! If I wasn’t a disembodied spirit right now, tears of outrage would pour down my cheeks. I wanted to reach out and strangle her. She betrayed my Goddess and my Queen.

The King’s jaw clenched. “Seven.”

The High Virgin glanced at Elizabeth who gave a slight nod. “Agreed. Angela will draw the quest to slay the dragon Dominari.”

As my outrage boiled my blood, the scene shifted to the Temple of the Pure. The High Virgin strode into her office, glancing at the me of the past. I looked so young, sitting petulantly in the chair. I had just gotten in trouble for ... sleeping with those twin novices, inducting them into lesbian pleasure. I looked like such a spoiled child pouting as I waited for my punishment.

I followed the disgusting High Virgin into her office, Elizabeth at her side. How could they betray our goddess?

“There is one thing, Vivian,” Elizabeth said once the door was closed. “We have to sacrifice an acolyte along with Angela.”

The High Virgin froze. And then a smile crossed her lips. “I know just whom to send.”

It struck me right then. Why I was chosen. Me. The worst acolyte of the temple.

Elizabeth gave the High Virgin a curious look.

“Sophia.”

You bitch! You’re my spiritual leader! I am one of your flock! And you sent me to die! Just so you could avoid paying taxes! Slata’s hairy cunt!

“Her mother will object,” Elizabeth said.

I screeched my rage.

“Why? It is a great honor to be chosen. I have three letters from her mother demanding to know why her daughter has never been chosen for a Quest.”

“Because she’s useless,” Elizabeth muttered. “I’m not sure she has ever paid attention during lectures on divine magic.”

“Exactly. We can be rid of the little bitch and appease her mother all at the same time. Send her in so we can give her the great news.”

I tried to rip out her throat. And then a chill hit me as realization washed through me for a second time. I knew why Saphique aided me. Why she gave me magic. She knew of the corruption in her priesthood. She wanted to give me a chance to survive. To fix it. Oh, when my Queen rules, I will fix it!

Vivian and Elizabeth would pay for betraying our Goddess!

Xerathalasia

Witness the truth of your betrayal, Xerathalasia,

The Goddess’s words struck me, flinging my soul from my body. I tumbled into the dark, welcoming gloom of the Deorc Forest. I would have blinked if I had a form. I turned, looking around, confusing wreathing me and...

Stared at myself.

I stood with my hunters, my body painted in greens and browns, forming the patterns that would blend her flesh in with the trees. I held my bow in one hand, the other hugged tightly about my wife, Atharilesia.

She’s not pregnant, I thought, staring at my wife. Though Minx had swallowed my heart’s affection, seeing my wife again reminded me of our love. Of coming home to her smiling face after long and dangerous hunts.

“I know you will slay the wyverns, my love,” Atharilesia said, my wife’s words breathy.

Wyverns... ? This was a ... year ago.

“Watch over her,” past me smiled to my sister, Nyonthilasara, when I broke the hug with my wife. “You know I will, dear sister,” Nyonthilasara answered, her ears twitching. I never realized how alike we were, though she was not my match in height. Our faces were almost the same.

“That eases my heart.” Past me looked at my fellow hunters.

It feels like an eternity since I’ve seen you all, I thought as I stared at Relythionaia, Deliasonele, and Quenyathalee. It was a good hunt. A short hunt. What does this have to do with betrayal?

Last, my past self hugged my wife a final time, the pair of us sharing a hot kiss. I remembered that kiss, smiling. Then my past self broke away and took the hunters off into the woods. Atharilesia and Nyonthilasara watched my past self vanish along with the families of the other hunters. Then the elves turned and went back to their lives.

The world blurred and left me more confused as I appeared in the hollow in the tree I lived in with my wife. I stared at her lovely beauty, naked save for the necklaces I had given her. I missed her so much. My heart ached. What had she named our daughter?

“Oh, I love when you’re in heat while Xerathalasia is gone,” moaned Atharilesia, her hands stroking down her stomach to the green bush adorning her pussy. Her legs were so hard.

“It does make things so interesting,” agreed Nyonthilasara as she moved to the prone elf. She stroked a huge dick thrusting from her dark-green bush.

A twinge of fear rippled through my stomach.

“Just remember to pull out,” Atharilesia moaned. “I doubt your sister will return from her hunt before her heat ends.”

“I will. Don’t I always.”

I struck me what they meant. My sister ... fucked my wife with her elf-dick in her pussy. She ... cheated on me. If I had a body, I would have thrown up in shock as my sister mounted my wife and rammed her cock into her pussy.

Violated our marriage.

My wife was free to suck as many cocks as she wanted, even my sister’s, or let them use her asshole. But to let my sister into her pussy, to risk conceiving a child with an elf who wasn’t her spouse, wasn’t me ... was monstrous.

I would never slide into a hermaphrodite’s pussy with my cock. I would never cheat on my wife. And she did it. With my sister?

“Oh, yes,” Atharilesia moaned. “Oh, why did I have to be so drunk that night and confuse you two. This is the cock I should have fucked. You.”

“My sweet bluebell,” cooed Nyonthilasara, her hips pumping faster and faster, ramming her cock into my wife’s married cunt. “You always did love your drink too much.”

“I did! Oh, yes. Oh, ram that dick into me. Oh, you’re going to make me cum so hard.”

I couldn’t look away from the betrayal. My wife and sister ... My wife ... regretted our marriage? We were drunk the night I made love to her the first time, sliding into her pussy and cumming in her snatch, uniting us forever. But ... she didn’t stop me from doing it.

I thought she wanted me.

“Oh, Matar’s cock, I love you,” my wife moaned, writhing beneath my sister, their bodies heaving. “I want you to spill into me.”

“What?” gasped my sister. “You might conceive.”

No! The horror struck me.

“It feels so good. I love it when you cum in me. I took the herbs. I shouldn’t conceive. It should be safe. Let’s risk it. Yes, yes, yes! Cum in me!”

“Yes!”

I could only watch as my sister flooded my wife’s womb with her cum while the world flickered and there they were again, lying on the bed I shared with my wife, their bodies pressing together, my sister sliding her cock into my wife’s pussy.

“You can cum in me,” moaned Atharilesia. “I conceived yesterday. It doesn’t matter now.”

“But the herbs,” groaned Nyonthilasara.

“Don’t always work.”

She’s not my daughter ... All these months, aching to see our child and ... she’s not mine. Despair crashed into me.

“If my sister comes back in time,” groaned Nyonthilasara, “you must fuck her. She must think it’s hers.”

“I will. But I’ll be thinking of you!” My wife shuddered. “And maybe she won’t come back. Maybe the wyverns will kill her.”

How? How could I never see the truth? My wife ... hates me.

The world blurred again.

“This is perfect,” Nyonthilasara said to my pregnant wife. “You have to encourage my sister to go with this human. No one comes back from Dominari’s lair. No one.”

Atharilesia’s eyes widened. “Yes! Then I shall be a widow.”

“In need of a new wife to help you raise your daughter.” Nyonthilasara hand rested on my wife’s pregnant belly. “My sister needs you to convince her. To prod her.”

My wife’s words echoed in my mind. She had prodded me to go with Angela. She had told me I had to help the knight. She had been ... eager. Oh, Matar, how did I miss it? How could I be so blind to the truth. I wanted to weep. I wanted to scream.

I didn’t have a daughter.

Warlock Faoril

“Witness the truth of your betrayal, Faoril Lesibourne.”

Slata thrust me into truth. I blinked, shuddered, and looked down at a summoning room in the Collegiate Tower. Past me, wearing the same red robes that I had adorned, drew a magical circle on the ground. If I had a body, I would have frowned as I thought. What betrayal was I meant to see in here. I recognized the circle. I was about to summon the lemures so I could harvest their cum to use in my upcoming Test.

“What are you summoning?” gasped Saoria, leaning against the walls, wearing identical pair of red robes.

A stab of anger shot through me, noticing Saoria. She had turned on me when I failed my test, gloating how she had passed, how she was a Master Mage, revealing how she had just feigned friendship so I would tutor her and aid her.

“Lemures,” past me answered.

It was so strange to look at myself. Is my hair really that short? And aren’t I taller? Perception is such an interesting thing.

Saoria’s eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, you are really trying to overachieve if you plan on using their cum in the test.”

It backfired, Saoria. Oh, I bet you loved that.

“I plan on passing,” past me said as she inscribed the summoning circle.

I admired my work. It was flawless. I nodded approval at the five-pointed star past me made, studying the arcane names of the five elements written in their proper place.

“Are you sure you can handle them?” Saoria asked.

She feigned concern. Irritation rippled through me.

“Yes.” Past me waved a dismissive hand. “Lemures aren’t that bad. You just need to be firm with them. And once I manipulate their cocks, well, they’ll be much less angry.”

Saoria’s grinned. “Well, you may have a point there. Even the spirit of a dead man likes cumming.” Past me finished the circle and stepped back, placing the chalk into her pocket. Then she pulled out three glass vials with leather stoppers and set them, with care, on the ground.