Chapter 43: Art’s Reminder

Note: Thanks to WRC 264 for beta reading this!

Aingeal – Princedom of Kivoneth, The Strifedoms of Zeutch

The feyhound’s wicker body crumbled around our souls. I could feel the poor proxy’s body unraveling. The supercharge from the diamond hammer had sent too much energy through it. The feyhound wasn’t a proper proxy. Smoke rose, wicker bursting into flames.

“What happens to us when it’s destroyed?” I asked Ava.

Ava didn’t answer me. Instead her soul seized mine and pulled us away. I gasped as I had a glimpse of the feyhound’s body erupting into full fire. Flames were around us for a moment and then darkness rushed around me, a bodiless hurtle that—

My eyes opened.

I gasped awake, staring up at the sky. Fire burned and crackled. I sat up, blinking at the shock of being back in my real body. My flesh ached. My wings fluttered. I groaned as I stood up on the slope, struggling to get my bearings. Flames devoured the grass of the hill to my left near a dark form lying dead. It was monstrous. Prince Meinard slain. Then I heard Kora shouting. She raced towards another prone figure.

“Sven?” I groaned, realizing it was our husband on the ground. Kora fell to his side. Clammy, fearful hands kneaded my guts. Moments later, Nathalie and Carsina joined Kora, Nathalie trembling, her breastplate missing.

“Princess!” Greta shouted, charging up the hill towards the top where Ava stood up.

Then I saw another body ... Skin black. I gasped at the sight of the crushed golden armor mixed amid the smashed form. Ealaín ... A dizzy wave shot through me as I stared down the slope. It hit me that she was dead.

“Cernere’s black cunt,” I whispered, the world twisting at strange angles as the blood pounded through my veins. My drunken gaze swept across the bottom of the slope and spotted another fire burning and crackling. It was the feyhound by the corpse and—

Zanyia lay on the ground, her body burnt. The clammy hands squeezed my guts now. Was she dead, too? Was Sven? Did we lose more than Ealaín? No one was coming to Zanyia’s aid. Kora was by Sven. She could save our husband, but what about Zanyia?

The pain throbbing my body from my fall vanished. My wings fluttered. I lifted into the air and soared down the slope. Lights gathered to me, the green enhancement spirits bobbed around me. They swirled into a sheath of emerald, drawn by my desperation. I rushed closer and closer to Zanyia.

She lay still. Unmoving.

Purple burst around me, engulfing the horde of enhancement spirits at her body, biting my lower lip. She couldn’t be dead, too. Her playful antics danced through my thoughts. She lived with her emotions, embracing them. She didn’t hide them. She lived to its fullest.

“Zanyia!” I cried out, hurtling down towards her in the wake of the healing spirits.

The purple engulfed Zanyia. The enhancement spirits, eager to please my will, plunged into Zanyia’s body. Dozens and dozens of them filled her. A spasm raced through her body. Her back arched. Her singed tail twitched. The crisping black covering her skin retreated. Pale flesh swept across her skin, growing pink and alive.

I landed beside her, tears spilling down my cheeks. “Zanyia!”

The cat-girl’s golden eyes fluttered open. I collapsed to my knees beside her. She wasn’t dead. She survived. I seized her and pulled her to my body, burying her face between my breasts. I hugged her tight as my wings fluttered.

“Mmm, this is a wonderful thing to wake up to,” Zanyia said, her hands seizing my tits. Her head rubbed back and forth, a purr rumbling from her throat. “A big pair of boobies to play with.”

I laughed as the tears spilled down my cheeks. We won. We were whole. Mostly.

Kora Falk

The illusion of my imperial confidence melted off of me, the art abandoned as I reached my brother’s side. Blood soaked his body. He had such terrible wounds to his chest. I had no idea how he kept fighting the Paragon after suffering such horrifying injuries from the transformed Prince Meinard.

“Brother mine!” I gasped, kneeling beside him.

My left hand throbbed as I released the amulet. My robes were still open. I thrust my hand between my thighs as I stared down at Sven. He wasn’t breathing. His face was so pale. He couldn’t be dead. I couldn’t lose him.

“Mistress!” Nathalie gasped, standing over us, her small breasts quivering.

“Rithi, bless my natural paints with your divine love. Let your vision flow through me and restore the art ruined by the cruel acts of the world!” I shouted and thrust my aching hand into my pussy. My juices tingled, brimming with Rithi’s artistic power. I had to restore my brother to his perfection.