Chapter 21: Personal Truths

Half of the Targhas had fallen but the advancing phalanxes had paid a bloody toll for every one of them. Then came the explosion. It was loud, bringing friend and foe to a halt, watching the snowfall of lights. No sounds of metal clashing against metal, no war cries and even the howling of the beast had stopped. Regardless, there still was no silence. Thousands of bodies littered the ground but not all of them peaceful corpses. Amongst them were the men dying but not dead yet, the wounded, the crippled; their screams, whimpering and crying; the other sounds of a battle.

No regrets, no compassion for the dead and the wounded, Roban felt pleased observing the scene. He too was wounded. A spear had pierced his left side, close above his hipbone. The beast was at the forefront of his awareness and he felt no pain. The wound barely impeded his movements after he had broken off the wooden shaft at his back. The injury shouldn’t concern him. The beast didn’t care about wounds, he was immortal, but something about it was disturbing. Contemplating that last thought he frowned remembering his words; “I am more than the Norgar Chieftain. I am Zeroth, the God of Destruction.” It was true, but something else was true as well. He also had become more than an immortal.

Horns were blown, new war cries and thousands of wolves howled into the night. The noise of the resuming battle interrupted his thoughts and the beast retreated, searching for silence within his own mind. The withdrawal of the immortal forced the human aspect to the forefront. He looked at the spearhead protruding from his body and this part of the unity had no trouble to easily assess the situation.

“She won’t like that,” Roban grumbled before his attention returned to the fight.

The Durkhetie were an exceptionally resilient race, but they were exhausted after a two month track through the mountains and tonight’s forced march to attack the Norgar encampment. Their order had been to attack and retreat before the enemy could gather their forces. It was indeed a test, but their plan never came to fruition. A nightmare had come upon them and in its wake a horde of giant, iron clad savages in a murderous frenzy. They had lost a third of their army to the ruthless attack and trying to counter and reclaim the center of their position. When the battle resumed and they were attacked from all sides, there was no fight left in them. Without a route to retreat the troops in the south-east surrendered to the Ogusi and the Ghallan Clans. The Durkhetie in the west tried to surrender too, but the wolves didn’t understand the concept of capitulation and thousands died while the Tuhak did nothing to prevent the massacre.

The surviving Targhas gathered around him as Roban looked into the dead eyes of the corpse at his feet. He went down on one knee and took the iron chain from the dead man’s ankle.

“You were the first of the Targhas and you’ll be the first of the Vermurak,” he whispered and the blue eyes of the corpse turned black. “Bring me the chains of your fallen comrades,” Roban commanded as he closed the eyes of the dead warrior.

A little while later, a growing stack of iron chains by his feet, Roban watched a group of riders coming up the rise. Athea stopped her horse a few yards in front of him. She didn’t say anything but her eyes were glowing intensely as she surveyed his appearance. It was Iane at her side breaking the silence.

“Do you want me to heat an iron and cauterize that wound, Master?” She asked smiling sweetly.

Roban watched the group and didn’t like what he saw. His sister, the Ghallan clan leaders, even the Ogusi looked at him as if he would be an unruly child.

“The wound can wait, but you can make yourself useful another way. I feel a bit tense, come here and suck my cock, Slave,” he answered Iane.

The sound of her responding groan was rather ambiguous, but the angry stares of the others intensified. The glares changed to expressions of disbelief as they witnessed the Princess of Erylaness slide off her horse and sashay over. Kneeling at his feet she deftly opened his trousers.

He heard the outraged murmuring of the Ogusi Fusans and saw Gillyn Canbierra approaching his sister.

“Athea, you should...” Gillyn started but Athea interrupted her rudely.

“I should what, help her? She doesn’t need help, Iane is very good at it. You could learn from her, she knows when to shut up!” Athea snapped and jumped off her horse.

He felt the crown of his cock slide through soft, full lips into a moist, warm orifice. Roban turned his gaze from his sister to the face of the woman kneeling at his feet. There was no defiance, not even reluctance. Submission was all he could see in her sapphire blue eyes. She placed a hand at his hip and he felt a tickling sensation as the spear in his side began to move. Leaving his body it dropped to the ground, the wound already closing. Removing her hand from his hip she crossed her wrists behind her at the small of her back. Her sparkling eyes never left his as she knelt before him, waiting with his cock in her mouth.

“You are choosing her side against your master every time you let her hide behind you. That makes you a rebellious slave just like her. I’ll have to think about a punishment for you,” he said as he put his hands on her head and brushed his fingers through her ​​blond curls.

Roban held her head between his hands and with a slight push from his hips his cock slid deeper inside her mouth. His movement was aided by a light suction and Roban moaned in delight as he felt the underside of his cock being caressed by the wet, velvety softness of her tongue. Pushing through the constricting tightness at the entrance to her throat was no hindrance but another source of pleasure. Sliding further down her gullet he heard a beautiful melody and felt the vibrations of its tune massaging his cock. He groaned and pulled back his hips only to return. His hands in her hair clenched into fists, he thrust his cock deep down her throat, faster and faster, again and again, recklessly. Roban surrendered to the feeling of bliss but when he came and his cum gushed down Iane’s throat, his thundering roar sounded victorious.

Looking down he saw Iane licking her lips. “Enjoyed that, didn’t you? I’ll have to think really hard about a proper punishment for you.”

His remark was met by her brightly sparkling eyes. “Yes, Master.”

“An empty threat if I ever heard one,” Athea commented.

She stood only few yards away, her arms crossed over her chest. The expression on the faces of the Ghallan clan leaders behind her, and still mounted, showed anger but there was also confusion. Confusion about the lewd sex act they had witnessed and the arousal they had felt watching it. It was as easy to determine as the furious glares of the Ogusi Fusans; offended, hateful and jealous.

Following her brother’s gaze Athea turned around and saw the same.

“Well, now that my brother seems no longer tense, is there something you want to discuss with him?”

“Your brother is a rabid animal. There is nothing the Ogusi want to discuss with him,” one of the Fusans retorted.

Gillyn Canbierra watched and listened as the other Fusans heatedly voiced their agreement before she responded herself. “I think Roban made it pretty clear how much he values our opinion,” she commented, “and I have nothing to discuss with him either, but if he wants me to suck his cock I will,” she finished calmly.

Everyone stared at Gillyn but the short moment of silence was broken when Sahein Callghannen and Sinheyd Dohougney burst out laughing. They were still laughing when the Ogusi angrily turned their horses and galloped away, which made the other Callghannen clan leaders join in their laughter. When the laughing finally stopped one of the clan leaders steered her horse to Gillyn’s side.

“The Ogusi are a self-righteous, pompous bunch, but they are right. The Norgar are rabid animals and their Chieftain is the worst. What he just did to the poor woman ... and in front of everyone ... he is a disgusting pig,” she said low and haltingly.

Gillyn looked at her and watched the other women, every one of them, before she replied. “I am not happy the Norgar are here in Vernya, but most of all I am not happy because we need them. I need the Norgar to defend my family. I can’t do it without them. But the Norgar didn’t come to defend my family. They are here for another reason and one reason only. They followed the call of their Chieftain and if he leaves they will follow him again. I said I will suck his cock but I’m willing to do much more than that to make him stay and protect my family.”

The facial expressions of the women listening to Gillyn hardened and they nodded their acceptance. After that the Clan leaders followed Gillyn as she left to return to her family.

Athea had heard everything and shook her head watching the clan leaders leave. She walked up to Iane who was still kneeling at Roban’s feet.

“You poor woman, so horribly abused, my heart is bleeding for you,” she said looking down at the blond goddess.

“Since you are the leader of this sanctimonious bunch, you should feel sorry for yourself,” Iane retorted and rose to her feet in a fluid motion.

“I can’t decide if I hate or love you. Maybe one day I’ll know but let’s hope that day will never come,” Athea replied but now she had to look up at the tall woman towering over her.

“The Goddess of Chaos is undecided, astonishing! Let me remind you why you feel this way.”

Athea eyes were transfixed on the beautiful face descending upon her. She frowned but when Iane’s moist glistening lips touched her own Athea returned the kiss as well as the tender embrace. She didn’t deny the tongue seeking entrance to her mouth. The slippery appendage delivered a familiar taste and her senses exploded. Athea clutched her tightly, desperately rubbing her crotch against a thigh and moaned as her own tongue wrestled Iane’s to feed her ignited arousal. A gentle pinch of one throbbing nipple was all it took to push her over the edge. Athea screamed into Iane’s mouth as she fell.

“Do you remember now?” Iane asked, hugging Athea’s limp body to prevent her from falling.

“Yes, thank you. I remember I hate that you don’t fight fair but love the way you are cheating,” she answered breathlessly.

“Looks like you were a bit tense as well. Feeling better now?” Athea could hear the grin in her brother’s voice as he questioned her.

Peering over Iane’s shoulder she wanted to pierce Roban with an angry glare but couldn’t muster the strength to do so. Instead she let her gaze wander and asked a question in return.

“Are you now collecting mementos of your silly battles?”

“No,” he answered, following his sister’s gaze to the heap of iron chains at his feet.

Roban balled his hand around the single chain he had taken before, crouched next to the stack and thrust his fist into its middle. Black flames erupted from the center of the stack and thick smoke arose. There was no heat melting the iron, the chains crumbled emanating coldness. Soon there was nothing left but a pile of black ash. A sudden breeze blew the ashes away and as his fist reemerged, it was still holding a single iron chain.

“No mementos just iron chains,” Roban said as he wrapped the only remaining chain around his left wrist.

Menja awoke with the sunlight of a new day tickling her face. Yawning she rubbed her eyes and her ears caught a curious sound. She knee walked to the foot of her large bed and looked down. Bosko was lying prone, his big head resting on his front paws. He wasn’t the source of the curious sound though. The deep, steady purr Menja had heard came from the Black Panther snuggled up at his side.

“Dogs don’t like cats. You should chase her around the house and not let her cuddle with you,” Menja remarked.

Bosko’s ears twitched but his only response was a long drawn out snort, suspiciously sounding like blowing a raspberry. The panther languidly stretched her limbs then jumped up on the bed next to Menja. Wide eyed she watched as the cat transformed into a young woman.

“You made him too smart. He looks like a dog but feels like a cat to me, a very cuddly cat,” Sureyssa said smiling.

Bosko regarded her comment with another snort.

“I didn’t know cats are smarter than dogs,” Menja admitted and caused Bosko to snort a third time.

“I am a cat so I should know and now you know it too.”

Menja watched her thoughtfully then asked, “You are like daddy, Athea and I, aren’t you?”

“Your friend Jenaya asked the same question...” Sureyssa started but Menja interrupted.

“Jenaya is my sister. We both are Daddy’s daughters, although she calls him her sire.”

“The kinsman like relations in this family are very complicated, Grandma!” Sureyssa laughed.

“You are making fun of me,” Menja complained frowning.

“No, I’m having fun with you, that’s a difference,” the woman replied.

“It’s not funny! Roban is my daddy and I am his real daughter, not a bastard!” Menja shouted her small hands clenched into fists and her eyes brimming with tears.

Sureyssa watched the crying girl for a while. “I am a goddess but I am lying at the foot of your bed guarding your sleep because you are the most important being on Calmyra. Eyna has chosen you, Zeroth has chosen you and Ghania has chosen you. Destiny has chosen you to reunite the trinity, the fate of this world, but still you are crying because of the stupid remark of a meaningless, nasty man. Crying the same tears that one day will herald the end of this world. You are wrong Menja, this is funny!”

“Maybe it’s funny for you but for Menja it isn’t. Destiny’s chosen one is still a child. Leave her alone. Denyssa will take care of her. Athea has given a task to me and I don’t trust myself with it, so I’m asking for your help,” Jenaya said standing at the open door of the room, a worried looking Denyssa close behind.