Chapter 9

When Asiara awoke, a dim grey light had penetrated the sky above her – morning had come, and the sun's rays fought to push through the hazy clouds that still poured rain upon the countryside. The lightning and thunder had passed, and the torrential rain had eased into an insistent drizzle that refused to let the sun show itself and cast its warming rays upon the land.

Pulling herself into a sitting position, Asiara looked about her, trying to remember everything that had happened. At her feet, she noticed several pieces of metal lying in the mud where her face had been pressed only moments earlier. She picked these scraps up and examined them, wondering what they were and where they came from.

They were dull shards of what seemed to be scrap metal, lacking any sheen or luster – so unlike the mask Asiara wore. At that thought, she reached to her face, wanting to feel the cold, beautiful silver of her mask. But when her fingers reached her face, they felt only soft, mud covered skin. The mask was gone!

Could these scraps of metal be the remains of the mask, Asiara wondered? What had happened to it? How had it been destroyed, broken into so many pieces? And, more importantly, why did it now look so lifeless and drab? Where was the delicate glint and silvery beauty that had made it so unique, and that indicated the depths of its power?

The bolt of lightning flooded back into Asiara's memory. That lightning must have destroyed the mask – only something so powerful could undo the magic that had created that artifact. But then another question occurred to Asiara. How had she survived? Surely if the lightening could destroy such a powerful item, it could harm her, as well, even with all of her recently acquired power.

Unless...

Asiara had no magical abilities, so she was unable to test her theory, but she suddenly had a strong suspicion that she knew what had happened. There were still a few lesser mages left amongst her remaining troops – it would be easy enough to get them to cast a spell upon her. Then she would know...

Her troops! This thought brought back the other important memory of the events of the previous night. Partheon! Turning around, her feet nearly slipping in the dense mud, she saw her advisor's dead body lying where she had left it, now stiff in the grip of death.

How would she explain this to her troops? What would they think?

Then, another thought entered her mind. Why would it matter? As her memories of the previous night continued to become more complete – more vivid – Asiara realized that her thoughts of the previous night had been correct: she was now the ultimate power in the world. There were none who could defeat her. She was sorry that Partheon was dead, but his death had come as a result of her own passions – the same passions that would enable her to rise in her power; that would enable her to overthrow her Queen!

Allowing that thought to enter her mind caused Asiara to become dizzy for just a moment. But then she realized that this was her new purpose. Whether the mask had planted this thought in her mind or merely drawn out her true desires, it didn't matter. Asiara was no longer marching back to the Queen's palace to ask for new forces to command. She was marching back to take the Queen's place!

The thought thrilled through her – seeming to stroke her sex with the intensity of the excitement that she felt; the intensity of her power.

Raising her head to the sky, letting the rain wash the mud from her beautiful face, her dark hair, and her naked body, Asiara let the rapture of this new purpose cleanse her soul, even as the falling water cleansed her physical form. She stood like this for quite some time, her eyes closed, reveling in the new sense of focus and power that was flowing through her; reveling in the erotic surges that she had come to crave.

When she was ready, she buckled her swords around her waist and walked slowly, confidently back to camp. Desire continued to throb within her, but it did nothing to break her stride. It wasn't that she had learned to ignore it – she remained markedly aware of her arousal – but she was learning to enjoy her seemingly endless state of erotic agony. She was learning to channel it, to let it make her stronger.

When she arrived at her army's camp, she found her troops grumbling in frustration as they tried to repack the supplies, the prospect of another day of trudging through the rain darkening their spirits. Asiara strode amongst them, aware of their apprehensive gazes as they saw her once again brazenly displaying her naked body. She ignored these looks, and instead moved to the supply wagon and, in a single fluid motion, leapt upon it. Turning towards her soldiers, she prepared to address them.

"I know that this campaign has not been what you expected. I have had my own share of surprises. But this morning, I came to realize that everything that has befallen us has been for a purpose. You have witnessed my growth in power, though I admit that it has often come at great cost. Many of you have lost friends. All of us have lost allies. Now it is time for those of us that remain to realize the rewards of our survival, and to benefit from the sacrifices of those who have fallen.

"Now, it is time for us to claim our rightful place in this kingdom. You have allowed me to lead you into battle. Now let me lead you to ultimate glory!"

Some of the younger members of her forces looked upon Asiara with their eyes blazing – the impact of her words inspiring them to want to follow her, to discover what rewards awaited them. And, she mused, she saw the desire in their eyes as well as they gazed at her slim, beautiful body – her nipples pointing out in the cool air and an erotic flush covering her face and chest.

But other soldiers still looked at her apprehensively. They must be wondering if they could really trust her, given what they knew of what had transpired in the past several days. One of the remaining mages frowned as he looked at her, and asked, "What does Partheon think of all this?"

"Partheon, alas, is the final casualty of my rise to power. He perished by my blade last night, but, in doing so, allowed me to see the ultimate purpose of our expedition."

His frown deepening, and a hint of anger flaring in his eyes, the mage asked, "And what is that purpose?"

"To overthrow the Queen!"

At this statement, mumbling erupted amongst the troops. She could hear swords being drawn as the more experienced warriors refused to listen to such treasonous words. The younger, less experiences troops seemed dazed, unsure of what they should do, torn as they were between their gorgeous captain and their loyalty to their Queen.

"You have all seen my power – the Queen will fall. This will happen with or without your help, as none can stop me, but if you join me, you will be the first to taste the benefits of my rule. I will honor you all with gifts of land, and titles, and jewels. Our power will spread further than the Queen ever dreamed! We will return to the southern lands and conquer the Maurial kingdom. We will go north, and claim the Inidians' lands. And in the east..." Asiara suddenly felt a weird sensation race through her, as if her mind were temporarily shutting down, but then that feeling passed. Recovering, she continued, "We will rule all of the lands – you will all share in my glory as the Empress of the Kingdom!"

Asiara waited, wondering what their response would be. The men looked at her, many seeming completely at a loss for what to do next. Others looked around, waiting to follow the example of some other, braver soul. Then, her answer came. She heard the chanting, mysterious words of magic.

"This," she thought, "is as good a time as any to find out if my assumption was correct."

Without so much as a flinch, she stood confidently as the small bolt of magical energy raced towards her. When it struck her, though, it simply dissipated, leaving no mark; having no effect. It was as she had thought – the bolt of lightning had drawn the mask's power out of the silver metal, and given it to her, permanently. Grinning broadly, Asiara uttered one last command before turning her back on her troops and making her way to the edge of the camp, where her horse was tethered: "Those of you who will follow me, join me when those who refuse are no more."

Asiara listened to the sound of battle behind her as she made her way slowly to her horse. She untied the strong animal from the tree that it was tethered to and slipped a bridle over its head. Based on the ferocity of the fighting that she heard, she imagined that her forces' loyalties had been quite evenly divided. Swinging casually onto the bare back of her mare, Asiara kicked the swift animal into a canter. Ultimately, she didn't care about the outcome of the fight. Whichever side won, there would be very few soldiers left, and she had little use for any of them. If any of her supporters survived and managed to reach her in what would soon be her palace, she would reward his tenacity then. Until then, she was too eager to wait for a handful of troops that would only slow her down.

It was odd, she realized, that her attachment to these men was as weak as her attachment to Partheon had proven to be. She considered herself a great leader – one who cared about the forces she led. In the past, she had always refused to remain on the back lines, always wanting to be at the heart of any battle so that she could fight alongside the men that she asked to risk their lives for her. As a result, she felt connected to her troops; concerned for their wellbeing, and appreciative of the dangers they faced on her behalf. But for some reason, these men meant very little to her – it was as if they were someone else's army and she had simply been leading them because she had to. But why would she feel this way? They were her troops, after all. She had been leading them for ... well, she wasn't exactly sure how long, but nevertheless, she felt that she ought to care more about them than she actually did.

But then, she banished these thoughts. After all, she had bigger things to think about. She was about to confront her Queen, and to take her place. This was all that she should be thinking about at the moment.

Without the other troops traveling on foot to slow her down, Asiara crossed the countryside in astonishing speed. As the horse's hooves thundered below her, it sent vibrations through her thighs, driving her wild with desire. But rather than allow these feelings to distract or frustrate her, she used them to fuel her sense of purpose.

She rode for several hours through the insistent rain. She couldn't see the sun, but she gauged that it was just before midday when she entered the mountain range that signaled that she was close to the palace. It wouldn't be long now before she confronted the Queen and took the throne from her!

With this thought ringing in her mind and stimulating her sex, she spurred her horse on even faster. The tall grey rocks that rose above her on either side became a blur as she made her way along the winding path that would take her to her destination. Neither the ruggedness of the terrain, nor the unpleasant weather would do anything to hinder her journey. The Queen would soon bow down before her, or she would die.

A couple of hours after midday, Asiara finally rounded the bend in the road that put her in view of the palace. She could see its dazzling brilliance in the distance, its white walls and crystalline spires reflecting bright rays of sunlight that seemed to only penetrate the rain clouds where the palace stood. This caused the wondrous building, with its seven tall, slender towers and countless decorative arches to seem to radiate a light of its own – a light that drew Asiara towards it. She could feel her horse's labored breathing below her, but she ignored it – she was so close!

As she drew nearer the palace seemed to grow before her – the dazzling crystals that coated its windows and roofs were enchanting as they cast spectrums of light down on all who entered the magical city. Asiara simply stared at those lights, seeming to move towards them not only for her own purposes, but because they seemed to call to her.

When she reached the city's main gate, she didn't slow down. The guards, in their resplendent white armor, did nothing to stop her passing, for they had seen her coming from quite a ways off and knew that it was her. They had no knowledge of her treasonous plans, so they would make no move to prevent her from entering the city.

As she raced through the archway of the main gate, though, an odd image floated through Asiara's mind – she saw herself in a hooded cloak, there was a dagger strike, blood on the white stones. Shaking her head as she galloped through the city's main street, she looked over her shoulder, and everything was as it should be – no blood, the gate as it had been moments earlier.

Ignoring the brief vision, she continued on, making her way swiftly through the city. She could feel the confused and embarrassed gazes of the city's citizens, as they saw the champion of their army riding through the city wearing nothing except for the belt that held her swords, her body and hair still wet from the rain that she had traveled through. Their stares only made the yearning in her sex grow. But she didn't have time to stop or even to return their astonished looks. She made her way straight to the palace.

When she reached it, she leapt off of her exhausted horse. A servant raced towards her, asking, "May I take your horse to the stables?"

"If you wish," was Asiara's curt reply. She had arrived at the palace and couldn't be bothered with such details. She strode through the doors of the palace, again encountering no resistance from the guards who saw no reason to block her entry. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw them blushing at her nudity, and this image was quickly followed with another. Only this second image was quite different from the first. It wasn't these particular guards that she saw, but several just like them, their weapons drawn, their faces grimacing in pain as their life bled out of them on the floor. She saw one of these nameless guards lying dead at her feet, a sword still embedded in his chest. It was a longsword, like Phyxilir, but different from her current blade. Yet, the sword in her vision was so ... familiar.

Asiara shook her head to clear it once again as she made her way towards the Queen's audience chamber. Along the way, several servants raced to meet her, asking if they could do anything to help her – bring her food, or some clothes. Asiara simply ignored them. A sudden vision of these same servants cowering in fear, some of them racing away from her, fluttered across her eyes, only to pass moments later. By the time she reached the doors to the Queen's room, the servants had given up trying to help her and had simply walked away, not in fear, but in exasperation – and a little bit of indignation.

At the doors of the Queen's chamber, Asiara encountered her first bit of resistance. Two guards stood on either side of the door, and at her approach they lowered their halberds until they crossed in front of her.

"I wish to speak to the Queen," Asiara said.

"The Queen is not receiving visitors at the moment, M'Lady," one of the guards replied.