Chapter 10

“That’s it darling,” Lydia murmured into Michael’s ear. The large man on top of her sped up and, his cock growing, drove chills into her spine.

She was close. The goddess wrapped her legs around her partner’s strong waist and held onto his neck, awaiting the fast-approaching orgasm.

Thirty-eight years had not dampened the lust they had for each other in the least. Instead, it matured from the initial youthful flame, fostered through their decades-long trials. And this despite Lydia’s permanent physical appearance. Something that had plagued a large part of her life.

Michael never cared, but the pressure in their earlier years was undeniable. Thankfully, that weight irrevocably lessened as he grew older. As he outwardly fit her own aesthetics and those around them eased their hidden words and stares.

It didn’t matter how many blind eyes they turned, the implicit freedom helped them reach a deeper and stronger connection than ever before. Every year they would find a new angle to their love neither thought possible, and every year their need to consume each other grew.

Though she had to admit, he had also become a far cry from the emaciated nineteen-year-old that saved her. Stronger, wider ... more experienced.

Lydia gave a muffled moan as Michael assaulted all her right spots incessantly. When it got to be too much and she came, he immediately hugged her head into his chest.

They couldn’t let the neighbors hear such abasement from the goddess’s tent.

She screamed and moaned into sweaty, muscled skin while her love filled her, and her body twitched.

Panting, the couple dropped side by side on the bed used for patients before she cuddled on his side.

“We need to get ready,” Lydia said, enjoying Michael’s wild smell.

“Can’t we just take a break today? It’s not like they’ve needed your services since the move.”

“Emotional support is need enough.” Lydia caressed his hair. “They’re skittish, they need some sort of balance.”

Michael sighed but didn’t say more, instead pushing his head harder against her hand and hugging her body.

Already some clamoring could be heard outside. Mostly people laughing and playing about as a big feast was being prepared for her appearance. There wasn’t much to do besides since they were still in the middle of moving the village deeper into Empryon. Away from the wall where the empress appeared. Where the emperor died.

What a mess, Lydia thought as she moved a hand over her womb, trying to feel the warmth of semen inside. Knowing full well that nothing would grow from it. She wondered for the millionth time if bringing their son here had been the correct choice.

It had seemed to be for quite a few years. He was safe, happy, and on his way to becoming as good as his mother. But something had broken him. Something inside this supposed paradise had snuffed out his light and fire. No pleading or badgering, no amount of care was ever enough to return it. Neither from her nor Michael.

Now the outside world they had left behind had come knocking in one of the worst ways possible.

Michael’s broad hand suddenly covered her own, right over her stomach.

“He’ll be fine. Whatever happens, this is the last place that could possibly fall. None from the outside would allow an invasion so easily.”

Lydia understood as much. Maybe more so than Michael did, but...

“I still can’t help but worry,” she said.

Michael lazily rubbed her hand a few times, his warm breath flowing onto her scalp. He was preparing his next words; it was painfully obvious. Lydia was already sighing when her love spoke.

“He’ll be safe in here,” he said, “but if he joins the prince’s band, danger will come directly for him.”

“Do you think my answers will be any different than yesterday or the day before?” Lydia asked, hoping that he would drop the topic so they could relax for a few minutes longer before the event.

“That’s what I don’t understand,” Michael took his hand away and set it at his side, “you say you’re worried, yet instead of pushing our son away from the perils of the outside you push him towards them.”

“Leaving him alone, helpless, is not the way to do things Michel. Neither is spoiling him. I sometimes think we did too much of it and now look where he’s at.”

“He is not helpless, he has us. His parents. The ones that are supposed to safeguard their child?” Michael angrily waved his hand in the space above them, “And don’t give me that ‘he’s an adult’ dribble. You and I both know this surpasses everyday responsibilities. For the sake of the stars, he isn’t even in the Protos rank.”

Whatever peace Lydia had managed to accommodate was gone. She sat up in exasperation and began to look for her clothes.

“I’ll spell it out for you one more time,” she said. “First, he will not come with us, you won’t convince him otherwise.”

“You don’t know tha—”

“Second, let’s say we somehow did manage to bring him with us, and the problems mercifully passed us by. Do you think he’ll change? No. He’ll cling to us and remain a deadbeat.”

Lydia found her upper garments and slipped them on.

“Third, and I know it pains you to hear me say it and I’m sorry, but we all die at some point. Even starchildren. What matters is how we spend our time. That is not a belief, reincarnation is real, and our actions are tallied.”

“Then I want you to look at your actions,” Michael said angrily as he stood, using his starlight infused vision to easily find his clothing in the dark. “If he dies out there, it’ll be on you.”

Lydia could have defended herself. Countered argued. Yet she simply stared at the vicinity of Michael’s voice, knowing he could see her tears in the dark but gaining comfort in the shadows regardless.

When he didn’t say anything more, she turned to find the rest of her clothing, hoping he’d help her. He didn’t. He just pushed through the flap to their tent and left.

“Stars damn him,” Lydia whispered to herself. She pushed her full concentration into finding her clothes and putting the garments on instead of letting the bile stinging her chest take over her mind.

Perhaps we should go see our son. That will reveal to him the truth more than anything I—

A flash of blood-red covered Lydia’s tent for a split second, right behind it ear-splitting thunder.

“Michael!” she screamed.

“I got it!” his voice rushed from the outside and then in a louder, starlight infused yell, “Everyone gather at the center of the camp now!”

Lydia was already halfway out the tent. Like a flock of sheep, every villager followed Michael’s instructions. The children being pulled along roughly by their mothers, men either huddling their family or combining efforts to help the elderly reach their destination faster.

“How long?” Lydia asked as she joined him.

“Whenever,” Michael said. The couple stood right in front of the growing group of people while he had his arms extended with clasped hands, a faint white light gaining strength every second.

“Goddess!” a man came rushing, “there’s still some people asleep in the tents!”

Before even thinking to say something, Lydia began to move when Michael stopped her with one hand, the other holding the skill he was about to unleash.

“You leave now, and everyone will die!”

“Let me go!” Lydia grunted and with a starlight infused pull freed herself, running toward her protégé.

“Lydia!”

The starchild was deaf to his calls. Her mind had narrowed her thoughts to near emptiness but for one phrase: Save her subjects by any means necessary.

Lydia reached the first, still occupied tent and was about to yell at its occupant to rise when a shockwave of insane magnitude buffeted the forest with such speed and strength that she had no time to brace herself. Her body was ripped from the ground along with trees, tents, and everyone still asleep.

In a rush of self-preservation, she managed to snatch a second of clarity and ran starlight through her body to raise her defenses high enough to withstand every pummel, crash, and strike. Sometimes from the ground, sometimes from an ill-timed trunk, and sometimes with the body of an already dead villager.

When the invisible wave finally spat her out, she fell rolling before coming to a complete stop.

Bruises marred her skin, but nothing to impede movement, and so Lydia stood with shaky breath.

The surroundings had been completely obliterated. What was a lush forest was now barren but for some tree stumps and the scattered aftermath of the impromptu disaster. And right between the parting dust clouds lay a golden bubble shield protecting Michael and a handful of villagers, most who had been surrounding him gone.

She had failed.

Michael quickly released his ability and rushed to her, leaving the catatonic group surrounding him.

“Lydia? Lydia!”

She couldn’t answer. Almost no one was left. Three adults, two elders, one child. It wasn’t even a fifth of her subjects.

“Hey!” Michael shook her shoulders forcefully, bringing some of the starchild’s wits back.

“Focus on our next step,” he said with a tone befitting a solider, taking only the mission into account. “We need to get them to the next village.”

Lydia blinked several times, looking into her lover’s eyes. Tears threatened to come out along with an anguished wail, but he was right. She couldn’t fail those who were left too.

With a numb nod, Lydia walked to the survivors.

“We need to leave,” she said, putting on a mask of confidence and consolation through sheer force of will. “You’ll all be safe once we—”

“Ma’?” the child, a boy of barely five years, called in innocent query while looking around. “Mommy?”

Lydia felt another shockwave explode, only this time inside of her. Her vision blackened for a split second and her legs lost strength, but before she fell Michael grabbed her.

“Can you take care of him?” he asked the remaining adults.

“Come here, your mommy probably went ahead,” said the only female adult that had survived.

Lydia shut off the rest of words exchanged between Michael and the villagers. She knew he could guide them, and simply left her head buried in his chest. Letting the beat of his heart dictate her focus inside the dark.

Mercifully, he allowed her to remain as such for several minutes.

When the group finally began to move, Lydia remained beside him, holding onto his arm like the motherless boy was holding onto the woman, ignoring all the broken bodies that laid right at the corner of her eyes.

“Just give them a kick, why in the stars do we have to wait?” a man with a gruff voice said.

“Patience, they’ll come around eventually,” said another with an elegant tone.

Nora awoke to two men conversing a few feet from her but made no move except pretend to sleep. If the ritual worked then hopefully the surge of power snapped Roesia out of her supercharged state. The problem was the medical attention she would need.

It’s possible that she and Yvain got sent to the dungeons entrance together, in which case he could maybe help her, but it could go either way with how whimsical the natural energies could be.

The question now was, who were these men? At most, only those near the location of where the dungeon was created could have been sucked in.

“What did I tell you?” the more sophisticated voice said, then to Nora, “We know you’re awake.”

Her bluff being called, not too unexpectedly, Nora quickly rolled backwards from her supine state and rose, ready to fight. The men made no move to attack though. A good thing, because they would have found her to be easy prey as her mind lapsed.

He’s a dragon too. The smaller man of the two, the one with the calming voice, had impressive horns on him along with a powerful tail—both pitch black to the point that no light seemed to bounce off them. His garments were a combination of pelts around his shoulders and armor of mute colors that put her ex-husbands custom made equipment to shame.

He was a subject she had never seen before, and she knew every single being living under her and Mitrel’s rule.

“Who are you?” Nora asked, but in the next instant the smaller man was hugging her. She struggled to free herself from his embrace but couldn’t budge the arms surrounding her one bit. The hold didn’t last long though.

He pulled back, holding her by the shoulders, and scanned her from head to toe with a warm smile.

“That is a valid question, firefly. I’m afraid I can’t answer it though.” He then released her and moved to stand next to his larger companion before pointing to the side with his chin, “You should wake your friend.”

Said friend was none other than Elly. She was still unconscious, sprawled on the ground defenseless.

What in the stars was happening? Nora had little experience with being challenged to Godless trials. As in, her ex-husband was the very first to do so. Yet the theory was that the challenged starchild would always appear by themselves inside the dungeon’s core, made to wait for the challenger to arrive. Why were there so many people here?

Nora took stock of her surroundings as she walked close to Elly. Just like last time, her home could be seen in the far distance. Only, no destruction could be found and instead of a forest, wide planes of flowing grass extended in all directions beneath a cloudy and blue sky.

Sending some starlight into her hand, she touched the large woman’s head and sent a weak shock.

Elly grunted, her muscles slightly convulsing as her eyes groggily opened.

“Couldn’t just shake my shoulders?”

“We have company,” Nora said seriously.

Elly’s guard came up even before the starchild finished her words, making the same move as her and rolling backwards before rising.

“Look at those instincts! How hasn’t she been bred yet?” the larger man said with a disappointed shake of his head. This one wore more than just some pelts around his shoulders. His whole attire was made of them. Colors and material Nora had never seen. All organized into a pattern that gave him a wild, barbaric aura. He was also taller and wider than Elly ... with simple, ivory horns coming out of his head with a curve before entering a straight line.

A bull and a dragon? That wasn’t possible. Each race was so apart from each other that entertaining the idea of companionship was unheard off. One was cattle, the other a hunter.

That was Nora’s first reaction at least. On deeper inspection though, the bull was far from food.

“Isn’t it obvious?” said the dragon. “I doubt there are that many suitors, if any.”

“I’m right here, aren’t I?” The bull began to move toward Elly but was stopped by the other with a hand on his chest.

“Your time’s past, she isn’t yours to take.”

Nora was ready to defend Elly if need be. Contrary to his rough look though, the bull just sighed dejectedly and pulled back.

“You’re lucky, miss,” he said, piercing Elly with a fervent look, “I’d have you popping out calves all year-round.”

The dragon rolled his eyes, “Did that actually work in your time?”

“I made it work,” the bull said with a calm nod, still eating Elly with his gaze.

Surprisingly enough, the large woman didn’t react to the man’s advances. She altogether ignored both men once they showed no hostility and addressed Nora.

“How do we get out of here?”

“We don’t,” Nora said. “All we can do is wait for Yvain to reach us.”

“Not quite. We—”

“Who are you again?” Elly asked the dragon threateningly.

“Oh stars,” the bull moaned. He only had eyes for Elly. Nora looked away in disgust when a tent began to form on the pelt covering his crotch.

The dragon only sighed. “How about you just call us thing one and thing two? Or whatever name you think fitting. We’re here for one thing, taking you to Yvain.”

“How about dumb,” Elly looked to the bull, “and dumber?” The bull burst out laughing; his thick, black beard shaking merrily.

“How are we supposed to trust you?” Nora forcefully interjected through the raucous laugh, “Neither of you should even be here.”

“More valid points, firefly,” the dragon said with a reserved smile.

“Willingly or unwillingly,” the bull began, “you’re both coming with us either way.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Elly said, preparing to attack.

Nora, on the other hand, took stock of the strangers. Or to be more accurate, tried to think on the pros and cons of trying to escape versus following them. The beings coolly standing in front of her were ... unfathomable. It was the first time she had experience such a feeling.

If someone was below her, she could tell. If someone was above her, she could tell. But these two, she couldn’t get a read. It made her anxious, it created a sense of eerie dread she couldn’t shake off. Was that why Elly so foolishly attempted to antagonize them? She should be able to at least tell she was outclassed.

One twitch from Yvain’s master, a single inching of her leg about to begin movement was all it took for the bull to phase out and into existence, holding Elly on his shoulder like a tense hemp sack.

“I can’t speak for him,” the dragon said, “but I won’t treat you as such as long as you let me guide you.”

“Release me!” Elly roared and became a whirlwind of limbs striking whatever they could reach. The bull simply laughed even through the elbows landing on his face, his trunk of an arm solidly holding her up in the air.

“ ... Fine then,” Nora said, not having much of a choice.

The dragon’s shoulders visibly relaxed.

“Come then, let’s make our way.”

Nelimir wondered, not for the first time, if he should have accepted his role as the future king. Maybe some real change could have been made from there. With his mother’s support, with the support of the kingdom, with Yvain as his right-hand man, he could have begun to plant the seeds of change that would transform his country for the better.

The thought led to the same place as it always did.

Impossible.

His father wouldn’t have allowed it even after stepping down. Whatever resources that could be available would only remain as so while following the set narrative. Such a debilitating current would stop any push for reform.

His only choice had been to leave everything behind and carve a new path. Yet so far, the guild had been stuck in Empryon for two years while bickering constantly, and his right-hand man was lost between the legs of a goddess that had threatened their leader’s life.

Nelimir was no closer to uniting anyone than when he left Allsworth. No closer to finding his fiancée.

Now a stranger was petting his head.

He hadn’t even bothered to open his eyes. Neither did he get up or stop them. He was too tired to care, and they didn’t seem to have ill intentions.

Regardless, the guild needed him. He didn’t understand what had happened, but it was obvious that Roesia was in trouble. And after that huge flash of light, it was up for grabs the health of the rest.

Time to work.

“I’ll have to ask you to st—”

Nelimir opened his eyes and found Haradriel smiling down on him. His mouth took fish form and flopped stupidly in an ineffective attempt to form words.

“You are finally awake,” his lost fiancée said as if she hadn’t disappeared from his life for almost a decade.

Nelimir abruptly rose, looking at his ex-lover all the while. She was wearing the same otherworldly clothing made out of green and nature, which gave the elf a modernized rustic look, as when he last saw her. Her hair was in a familiar pinned up position with streams falling haphazardly around her cheeks too. It was almost like she was plucked out of the past and placed before him.

“Where have you been?”

No, that wasn’t right.

“Why did you leave me?”

More and more questions amassed behind Nelimir’s teeth.

“How are you he

Haradriel jumped into his arms hard enough to drop both of them onto the ground and kissed him. First softly, due to his hesitation, and then deeply as the heat and touch of long-lost lovers took over the couple.

Nelimir reveled in it for as long as he could, but when Haradriel began to moan he pushed her back. Both panted heavily as the elf threw a questioning and hungry look.

“As much as I want to, I can’t right now,” he said, the words stabbing his rising libido. “I need to find my friends.”

At this, a clarity slid through the cracks of the haze covering Haradriel’s eyes and she lifted her head, looking at her surroundings.

Nelimir did the same and realized that they were in the middle of his father’s throne room. Right on the red carpet that cut through the middle—from massive doors to king’s chair.

“You need to hide!” he whispered harshly as he grabbed Haradriel’s arm, but the elf shook her head.

“We are not in your home; this is a dungeon.”

“What?” Nelimir looked around, but all he could find were familiar walls. “How is this a dungeon?”

“Dungeons can take many forms,” Haradriel said while standing up. She then offered a hand which he gratefully took. “Though it is mysterious that it would take that of your memories...” the elf looked around and suddenly rushed to one of the windows with such speed that Nelimir was left dazed. She then returned just as fast, barely allowing him to blink. “ ... and mine. It is also mystifying that I would be sucked into it.”

“I...” Nelimir tried to make sense of her words. When the massive storm began, he hadn’t been able to do much other than hold on for dear life. He had been able to hear Nora and Yvain though. It was a clear challenge, in other words this had to be what the goddess called a ‘Godless trial’.

“I think this is Nora’s dungeon,” he said.

“Nora?” Haradriel bent her head in question, her pointed ears flipping up and down adorably.

Nelimir shook himself as he struggled with warm, bubbling emotions, “The goddess of dragon, she joined us around a week ago.”

“Oh, this is not her dungeon,” Haradriel said with a shake of her head that stopped mid movement. The elf took on a mask of doubt before kneeling and putting a hand to the floor.

“How can it not be?” Nelimir asked but she rose a hand indicating for him to remain quiet. She then closed her eyes.

“I was wrong, this is her dungeon after all.”

So she says.

Haradriel’s long, pointy ears were pulled all the way down. She wasn’t sure of her own deduction.

“That should be the case, since Yvain challenged her to a Godless trial.”

“What!?” the elf abruptly stood. “Is he insane!?”

“No, no, it’s not what you think,” Nelimir said and began a summarized explanation of the guild’s last week.

Haradriel listened to his story in calm silence. It took him back to their time together, when he would press on her all his plans to have her people be accepted by his. She had a way of bearing that cleared his mind and helped him organize his thoughts with barely a word.

It was the same now. As he recounted all of last week, somehow everything seemed not so heavy a burden anymore. Regardless of what had happened, it was just a part of his path to unification. If he couldn’t handle something as simple as a bickering group of friends, and a kind goddess protecting her lover, then he didn’t have a right to lofty visions.

I guess Nora was right after all.

“If I’m here, that means that the rest are probably around here too. We need to go find them.”

Finished with the telling, Nelimir focused once more on Haradriel to find that the elf had red-rimmed eyes. In stunned silence he watched her slowly walk up to him and take his head in her hands.

“You have done all this for me, have you not? It is my fault, for leaving you with no explanation. I am sorry.”

‘It’s not your fault’ he wanted to say. Yet the words didn’t come out. He had been angry, furious even. Sad, scared, embarrassed. Nelimir had spent countless nights awake conjuring up scenes that either assuaged his pain or dammed him. What had he done wrong? What had she done wrong? It was a back and forth that for the most part destroyed his self-confidence. He couldn’t put into words what a weight hearing her apologize, and recognize both their actions, lifted from his heart.

Nelimir gulped audibly.

“Then, allow me to ask you again, why did you leave me?”

“It’s your father. He—”

Like a deflating balloon, Hardriel’s body folded over as she suddenly fainted.

Nelimir was quick to catch her and check her pulse which thankfully beat normal.

“I am sorry.” A disembodied voice rang out from behind one of the pillars in the throne room. From it, another elf stepped out. This one of a darker tone than Haradriel along with blinding white hair, but she shared a lot of other traits similar to her.

“I wanted to give you both as much time as possible, but we are already late as it is, and she is not supposed to be here.”

“What did you do to her?” Nelimir asked and quickly shielded Haradriel as the darker elf approached them. She stopped less than two feet away.

“Do not worry, it is a harmless spell that put her to sleep. Next time she wakes, she will be back home.”

Back home? That was a sour pill Nelimir did not want to swallow.

“She can’t stay with us?”

“Silly man,” the darker elf moved closer, to the point that her nose was almost touching his, “you know the answer to that.” She then kissed him.

Thinking that the invasion of personal space was just an intimidation tactic from her part, Nelimir was wholly unprepared for the lips now glued to his. It was curiously reserved, and the darker elf quickly pulled back with a sad smile.

“What a shame that you were born male,” she said.

He waited for a burst of sheer indignation, maybe anger. And indeed, he was not entirely happy with this woman’s actions. Yet, he was also not against them. Looking at this new elf standing in front of him, he found that he couldn’t decide on what to feel at all.

“Leave Haradriel and follow me, she will be safer here.”

“You can’t expect me to actually do that.”

The darker elf sighed, “I know.”

Nelimir’s body immediately froze.

“Do not be alarmed, my intention is not to harm either of you.”

How in the stars was she doing all of this? No matter how much he tried to budge, his body refused to cooperate. Yet his arms remained strong as they held the sleeping elf.

The darker elf took Haradirel from his arms and carefully set her down.

“What is your intention then?”

“I will take you to Yvain.”

When Yvain regained consciousness, a dull pain pulsed through his head. With a groan, he sat up and rubbed his face before looking around a weirdly familiar room. He way lying on a comfortable bed, and at his side...

Roesia was peacefully resting next to him, covers hiding most of her body, and bandages peeking out all the way up and around her neck. Her robes were nowhere to be found.

“You’re awake!”

Yvain’s head snapped up to the middle of the room where a young woman stood holding a bowl of food and a drink. She was wearing a conservative dress that covered everything except her head which sported brown hair lifted up into a bun.

“So I am ... who are you?” he asked.

“A friend,” the woman said amicably and came to stand by Yvain’s side.

He instinctively felt close to this person and took no action to stop her as she set down a bed tray over him with what looked like a bowl of soup. She then sat by Roesia’s side and parted the sorceress’s hair sadly.

“It was a bad idea to let her absorb starlight without someone powerful and well-versed in magic overseeing the process.”

“Is she okay?” Yvain asked. He didn’t bother to even look at the food, as he had no appetite.

“The danger to her life has passed but...” the woman looked to him, seemingly deciding on something. She grabbed the covers and pulled them all the way back.

Roesia was covered completely in bandages, some spots encrusted with medium-sized dots of dried-up blood. And then he saw it, the leg that had burst in light when he tried to grab her was gone.

“Fuck.” As if burned, Yvain recoiled and took refuge in his soup, his visage reflected on the reddish liquid. He might as well have amputated Nora herself for the agony of the knife burrowing and turning inside his chest. His fists pressed onto themselves as he looked at himself in disgust, trying to assuage some of the guilt and anger pushing to burst.

Was he just meant to keep inadvertently hurting the women he loved?

Loved?

Yvain looked to Roesia’s peaceful profile again. He loved her?

“Oh dear,” the woman said, bringing him out of his thoughts. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s just a part of it.”

“A part of what?”

“Hmm...” the woman put a finger up to her chin as she held her elbow, “If you want to find out why you feel as you do, why these things are happening between you, Nora, and now Roesia, then you need to reach the Protos rank.”