The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The old mill became such simply because it was never meant to last. It was the first mill created in the area to provide lumber for the first steps towards beating back the frontier in this region. Then, as the years passed and the need for homes gave way to a greater need for industry, it was replaced by a larger facility miles downstream. This place was well-maintained so that when there was a spike in demand it could be met, but with winter closing in around Erette, such an increase in demand was unlikely, so, in winter, it ended up being used by anyone that happened by. It was a meeting place, hunting lodge, and even a survival outpost for people caught out during the ravages of winter.

Inside it Etan Strannix huddled next to the fire, palms facing it until he could no longer stand the heat and then wrung his hands together or rubbed them up and down his arms, keeping an eye on the small metal chest he’d brought with him. It was habit more than anything else, especially here. It wasn’t as if he could truly defend it if they wanted to take it, but there was more than enough in it to keep him in the shadows and fund his next steps. Soon, no doubt, Kav would get a message to him, appraising him of how the pieces had fallen in the aftermath and further fund him. For now, he couldn’t wait until the heat finally began to warm the room. “Are you sure she’s going to show?”

“She gave her word that she would be here, and I paid her well to ensure her arrival.”

That caused Strannix to turn from the flames. “You did?”

“Well, you will have when all is said and done, but I fronted it on your behalf.”

It was one more annoyance to add to the pile, but he didn’t get anywhere in life by letting them get to him. “That’s fine. As long as this gets fixed, I don’t care.”

Arik refrained from any response because he didn’t know for sure if recrimination was being directed at him or if that was just what he heard. “It will take a new plan.”

“We’ll come up with one that will get the job done,” Nax promised.

“A good plan was already in place. Perhaps the next one will be better executed.”

Arik was just about to respond when he saw a woman cloaked against the chill closing the distance between them. “Here she is.”

About time. Strannix sought confirmation. “You’re sure?” An unwelcome visitor at this particular moment would have been one bit of unplanned misfortune for all of them, especially the visitor.

“It’s her,” Arik assured him. Her appearance was different, of course, as expected, but he recognized the nuances of her veil. He knew she would come, but he was still pleased to see her, if for no other reason than, if she hadn’t shown up, he might have had to consider her a potential liability and done something about that, even if Strannix hadn’t insisted, and he was the type that may well have. He opened the window and called to her. “I thought perhaps you’d gotten lost.”

“You said noon and it’s not much past. Besides, I thought I’d give you enough time to start a fire. It’s already winter out here.”

“It’s still mostly winter in here.”

“Then close the window, fool.”

Her perpetual disdain wasn’t lost on him as he looked on contentedly for a moment before doing as he was told.

“Finally,” Strannix said, standing and waiting for the last of the triad to enter. Footsteps clapped hard against the steps before the door flung open and she stepped inside, this version of Sylanna being different from all the previous ones Arik had seen. He had seen once and marveled at how she could walk down a street, smile politely as she made eye contact with people and literally shopped for features; this nose, those eyebrows, and even that ear shape and later integrate them in always pleasing ways. Her veils were their own artistry.

She closed the door quickly and looked around the room as she gave herself time to begin to get warm.

“Cold enough to freeze your tits off out there.”

She looked to Nax. He could be crass sometimes, due to his youth mostly, but, in this case, he was quite right. “Indeed.” She saw the tension emanating from the man who must be Strannix, not that he wasn’t keeping a tight lid on it, or that she needed magic to see it. She just knew from putting on so many masks herself all the ways that people could hide themselves. Then she saw the tension between Arik and Strannix. “I seem to have missed something interesting.”

“Nothing of import,” Strannix said, puffing his chest out a bit and making certain he was at his full height as he approached the comely mage as he might one of the lovelier nobles and extended his hand. “Etan Strannix. I’m quite pleased to meet you under these somewhat unpleasant circumstances.”

She left his hand alone in the air and looked upon him with the usual disdain she held for most of humanity. “Unpleasant for me in that there are rules I adhere to religiously when it comes to not meeting clients, so I would prefer not to be here at all.”

He withdrew his hand in response to the chill and stepped back, while putting on a practiced smile “Yes, well, I hear Arik has compensated you nicely for this meeting and I’m sure I can make it worth your while.”

Arik was satisfied with her presence. “That you’re here tells me that payment was what you expected?”

Thoughts of the plant and the near endless possibilities it afforded pleased her in spite of the fact that it forced her here. “I am here and you’re not dead for having tried to deceive me. But let us dispense with this waste of my time as rapidly as possible. Again, did I miss anything that matters?”

“Nothing, really,” Arik said, a touch of ire returning and hardening his features. “Our client was blaming us for the plan he insisted we implement, completely dismissing the fact that I tried desperately to talk him into something smaller scale and with a better chance of success.”

“I could have gotten that girl if that’s what you wanted,” Arik said. “Spend a few more weeks to learn the one or two officers that are closest to them, their patterns, then take them. Do you think if it were one of the general’s hands that rode up and wanted that child in the midst of a riot that there would have been more questions from the people walking that girl, or fewer?”

“The longer you wait, the farther away my wife and her lover get. The longer you wait, the greater the chance that something slips. Sometimes in business you must strike at once.” He felt compelled to point out, “And if one of you had been there with them, it wouldn’t have mattered because I’d have had the girl and, by now, I’d have my wife.”

Nax stretched his body long in the chair and stated the obvious. “And if one of us was spotted and recognized, it would have been over anyway; at least for us. Veils would have been seen by the mages in the streets even if they couldn’t recognize who it was beneath. Not that you care, but your money means nothing to me if I’m too dead or too imprisoned to spend it. I wouldn’t have gone anywhere near the grab, no matter how much you paid me.”

He added sarcastically, “Or, you know, it would have been easier to infiltrate the guild’s network to find her location instead of going through all this shit.”

Strannix took a swipe. “You assume that they would even know.”

“It’s less risky and still leaves open the possibility for escalation if need be,” Arik said, then added with bitterness, “Where do you go after you set off a bomb in the streets?”

“You go with two bombs,” Strannix said flatly.

“Nowhere,” Sylanna corrected. “The plan failed because it was flawed and, for that, one has to look no further than the man who wanted it implemented. He paid for a bomb and got one because he didn’t just want his wife.”

Her beauty faded for Strannix more than a little. “Excuse me, my dear, the whole point of this was to bring my wife back to me. What else could I have wanted?”

“And there were ways to do that with far less risk and less general mayhem, but a small man with much money is generally a recipe for disaster.”

His cheeks reddened and he tried counting slowly to rein in his anger. “That’s uncalled for. Do not know me for all of three minutes and then speak as though you know me. My wife had no right to leave me as she did, disappearing into the night with the help of your kind. Lia and her guild had to be shown who they were dealing with.”

“And that’s why you’re a small man, Mr. Strannix.” Her words dripped condescension. “What else could you have wanted? You did not just want your wife back. You did not just want the Jaye child in order to get your wife back. If that were really all you wanted your odds would have been good. But the southern quarter had to burn even if some of your own holdings went with it because your plan was incomplete unless you showed for all to see, even if only you and Lia truly knew what it meant, that you were more powerful than she.”

“Her power is meaningless. Her connections are meaningless. Not only can you reach her, but you can orchestrate such destruction that she will fear you. Maybe she’ll kneel before you in defeat. How did you truly see this ending?” She then looked to her compatriots, “This is but one reason that I do not meet with clients: stupid often causes me physical pain.”

“Who do you think you are?” Strannix made the mistake of taking a step forward once again.

Sylanna stepped up to meet him. “Your better. If you had simply wanted what you wanted and left it to those you hired to make it happen, it would be done, but theater mattered more, and look where you are.”

Arik got between them to attempt to diffuse the situation, trying to force Sylanna back without actually physically trying to force her back. He stared her down, ready to put an end to this one way or another. “We are where we are. It doesn’t matter why. What matters now is why we’re here, and that is to do what we can to help the client achieve his goals. And, let me remind you, this is a case of same goal, new contract.”

“To the void with this and with you,” Strannix growled in the most polite manner Sylanna had ever heard. “I should just hire a new triad and clean up your mess.”

Arik turned. “And if you could do that, you wouldn’t be here. No one else will touch this now and you know it, so why don’t we all just put an end to the mutual loathing and come to an understanding that benefits us all.”

“I am here because I agreed to be here if Arik met certain conditions. He did, and so I am here, but there is no reason for me to remain because no agreement can be reached that benefits me because the man has no money.”

Strannix laughed and asked, “What are you talking about?”, even as she pulled a paper from her cloaks and began to read.

“By order of Evaline Avanestra, Sovereign Queen of Erette, as a response to the systemic abuse of the people, conspiracy to engage in the defiance of the law, and disregard for the responsibility of every individual and business to work in cooperation with the government for the betterment of the people, all assets, public and private, of Etan Strannix are ordered immediately seized for sale, auction, or general liquidation for the purpose of reparations for those abused, and retribution for defiance of law.”

“Not only that, I hear they’re running him out of Kressin, too.”

Strannix snatched the paper from her at that moment and scanned it for authenticity. There was the signature and the seal and the date, now only only days ago. Now he was angry. It oozed through him like slow-moving molten rock. Years worth of work...decades of building and meticulous strategy simply snatched from him on the whim of a bunch of greedy nobles, many of whom were happy to make use of the hospitality he offered, but took what he built for themselves the moment there was the first hint of weakness, to say nothing of the men and women he shared the gray part of his world with. They were probably drooling even now, having a fine meal while discussing how to divvy up what would be left when Erette wasn’t looking their way anymore. That he would be acting in the same manner if it were one of them that felt the hammer of the law to the same degree was another argument.

“Looks like another consequence you didn’t consider, sir.” Sylanna noted with no small dose of sarcasm.

That wasn’t lost on Nax, who, in the face of his job prospects evaporating, saw no reason not to chime in. “Attack a personal friend of the queen? What could possibly go wrong?”

Strannix saw no need to respond to their pettiness There was still time. They wouldn’t be able to move to part out what he owned until the nobles were finished with everything they knew to go after, and whatever else they could find, but they wouldn’t find it all, or find it all so quickly that he couldn’t snatch pieces and consolidate control of them in the shadows. It would take time, perhaps years, and years more before he could have anything close to the power and reach he once did, but, with his skills, and his will, they would not defeat him. He would learn who acted against him and they would pay. It wouldn’t have surprised him if the witch had gotten Dina to aid her. His dear wife would pay for that wrong, too.

And the witch would pay double.

But first things had to come first. They wouldn’t take what was his and not want him, the only question was whether they wanted him in a cell or hanging from a rope. He not only had to get out of here, he had to get as far from here as possible as rapidly as possible. He still needed mages now, but for protection and safe passage.

“Mr. Strannix?”

The sharpness of the tone of his name snapped him back to the mill. A smile would be instantly seen as bravado, so he settled for letting them see the anger that they already saw and let them hear that in his voice. “It seems that plans have changed, but, it is, at best a minor setback. The bitch will pay and so will everyone responsible for it.”

“But it’s clear that my operations are compromised, so I will have to leave Erette as soon as possible and slip away from the prying eyes of anyone that may wish to capitalize on my vulnerability.”

Nax coughed into his hand, “Turn you in for the reward.”

“Your sense of humor is, shall we say, underdeveloped.” Strannix went to the box he’d brought him. Picking it up with both hands, he brought it to a table just to the right of the door and sat it down with a thud so that the latches faced the trio. Lifting the latches and the lid, he smiled at their reactions to collection of gold and jewels that represented every color of a rainbow and more colors beyond that. It was no small fortune that called to the mages responded to that call by huddling around it. “This says you won’t.”

Nax picked up a precision cut blood red jewel and put it up to the light, “This says there’s no contract in place, so let’s take the box and then turn him in.”

Arik ignored the look of concern that flashed across Strannix’ face and snatched the jewel to toss it back in the box. “Because I didn’t spend my life risking it to become a mage just to end up a common thief, and you didn’t either.”

The exchange was left at that, so he continued. “This is by no means the limit of my resources, even now. But, until I reach the men and money that I know are beyond the reach of Erette and Kressin, I am vulnerable. I can trust you enough because here you are, so I am willing to pay the three of you to get me safely to Volis port. From there, I can make my way to...elsewhere, and our business is done.” He met their eyes, each in turn. “Is there not more than enough here to make that happen?”

Arik spoke truth when he implied that he was not one for common thievery, but he wasn’t above capitalizing on an opportunity. “No. I think there’s exactly enough here to make that happen, and not one coin or jewel less.”

The look of concern returned. “I could buy a guild for what’s in here.”

“Then buy one,” Arik told him, “if one will touch you. You’re the one in need here, not us, so the price for this job is for us to name. It’s named.”

Sylanna looked upon him, seemingly puzzled, “What do you care, oh he with unending resources that span the world? If you’re telling the truth, what difference does it make? Unless you’re a liar, in which case, perhaps you should just die.”

“I am not lying, my dear.”

“I am not ‘your dear,’” she spat. “Do not call me that again.”

“I apologize,” he said, though, for him, it was simply a matter of politeness over any real regret. “But there is the simple fact that I can’t get to those people and those resources with no money.”

Arik conceded the point. “All right. We will go with you while you secure passage from Volis. The chest minus twice the cost of your passage, just so you can have a little money when you get where you’re going. Take it or start traveling.” He pointed towards the fireplace, “You’re looking at about two days that way.”

As much as he loathed the circumstances, the deal wasn’t unfair considering he had no other good options. Arik even gained a bit in the man’s estimation and the smile he gave him in return was genuine. “Done. So long as we’re all in agreement.”

Arik looked to Nax who thought his position should be obvious. “Done, done, and done.”

“Sylanna?”

“I simply wish to be done with this.”

“And you will be,” Arik promised, “in two days.”

“I don’t need the money.”

“Lucky you,” Nax said, seeing the opportunity slip through his fingers. “I do.” He pointed to it. “That’s at least two years of work for me in that chest, probably more, and that’s just for two days worth of babysitting.” His words became a plea, “Come on, Syl. We’ve been friendly, even if you’re not big on actually having friends. Please don’t cost me this just because you’re set.”

Arik added his voice to Nax’s. “I’m nicely established, too, but...damn, that’s a lot of money.”

They watched her ponder leaving. She didn’t need the money. She didn’t need to be involved in any more of this. It was all over her face, they saw it, and she knew they saw it. “I don’t need the money,” she repeated, “but I will agree to aid you in return for my share as well as a single favor from both of you to be named later of commensurate value to the fact that you would not have had this windfall if I had exercised my better judgment and left here as rapidly as possible.”

The barter of skills and favors between mages was as much common currency as coin and both quickly agreed. With that, Sylanna simply added, “Done.”

Arik was most pleased that the tension had lessened in the room now that a deal was struck. “Now, as I see it we’ll have to camp along the river in night two, but there is a home that we can reach not long after dark if we start now. I have a client that has a large house that he shares with no one. I’m sure he can be persuaded to put us up for a night and set us on the path with a few days worth of supplies in return for a small payment, or a favor, or both. Any objections?”

No one spoke. Strannix’ only minor quibble was the fact that he was going to have to go back out in the blustery cold just as where they were was beginning to be livable.

But it was a small price to pay.

Arik was quite correct. His client, while surprised to see him out in the middle of little as he was, was willing to put them up...after a bit of added deal-making that committed Arik to some future work. He acted suitably annoyed at the deal he agreed to, but he was secretly thrilled at the fact that the man never asked who his friends were or what was in the chest. Dealing with mages enough led most to learn to not ask too many questions. It was enough that it was one night, there would be no trouble, if there was trouble the mages would see to it, and, either way, there would be something in it for him. Not wanting to ask questions, or perhaps be put into a position where he overheard something he shouldn’t hear and then for them to decide that maybe he should be too dead to tell anyone, he showed them where the food was and the two rooms upstairs that they were welcome to, where the extra blankets and bedding were, and then left them be. After a full meal and some idle chat that Sylanna had to admit Strannix was adept at, they made their way up the stairs to their respective rooms.

They were at least nice rooms; small, well-appointed, and comfortable with what looked like various family heirlooms carefully placed about. Sylanna didn’t ask because it was none of her business, but it looked like a family home with no family left, save one of them to keep up appearances, or to keep everything together until they returned. Arik took his cloak off in a quick sweep and draped it over the chair behind the writing desk. “Going to get bitter cold tonight, so a room will be wonderful. Of course, the bed is yours.”

“Your chivalry is not required,” her tone cool before lightening with a touch of humor, “but I will take the bed, thank you.” She removed her own cloak and tossed it on the bed before claiming it with her backside and holding on to that touch of whimsy for as long as it might last, “Nax doesn’t like you very much right now.”

“Escort duty requires guarding the client, the youngest needs the experience, and so the youngest can take the first watch. I’ll relieve him in five hours or so.”

“You told him four.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes the unexpected happens and the young ones have to learn to adapt to that and not lose focus.”

She found no flaw in the logic. “Fair enough.”

He sat with her on the bed, “Look, you didn’t have to do this, and I appreciate it.”

Her hint of a good mood evaporated, though her words weren’t particularly angry, “Spare me the theatrics of your gratitude. You should be grateful that I took the job so I didn’t have to kill you.” Before he could feign surprise or try to steer things away from the cold, hard facts, she pressed onward. “If I had said no, you would have taken that as I sign that I was willing to betray you for a better deal. If you hadn’t thought as much, our employer would have, and set the two of you to kill me.”

“Young Nax would have lasted about a minute, and that would have just left you and me.”

Her logic was equally impeccable, but he felt the need to finish the scenario for her. “And that would have left just me.”

She looked him up and down. “Hm, sure of that, are you?”

“One of the reasons I like working with you, Sylanna, is that we compliment one another. My skills actually lend themselves to distance, yours don’t.” He gave her that same look up and down. “So, yes, despite our playful sparring and my true respect for your gifts, yes, I’m sure of that.” He didn’t want her to see his statement of fact as unnecessary aggression, so he changed the subject as he stood up, “I will say that, not only am I glad you’re here, and I’m glad that we didn’t have to fight over the plant, and that it was what it was supposed to be. To be honest, if it’s not the basic ones you can eat or the healing herbs, I barely know petals from roots.”

“It was all that was promised,” she assured him. “I dare say that having that plant has opened up many possibilities for my future.”

“That’s great to hear, Sylanna. I’m off to get myself some bedding. Can I bring you anything?”

She contemplated the question before shaking her head, “I have everything I need for this evening, thank you.”

“Great. I’ll be right back then. Would it bother you if I read for a time before sleeping?I find it the best way to end the day on a quiet note.”

“Feel free.”

Upon returning, he’d spent the next hour or so on the floor, blanket beneath, him, with one over his legs and a pillow between his back and the wall reading a book, and, despite an occasional muffled chuckle at some of the more humorous passages, he had done so quietly. This ritual was one of his more fond memories of childhood and continuing it was his anchor, and, with some days, the thing he looked forward to most.

His now heavy eyelids telling him it was time for sleep his muscles protested as he rolled to his side to blow out the candle before placing it back on the nightstand, allowing darkness to claim the room. “Good night, Sylanna,” he said softly after he’d adjusted himself comfortably on his side, with his back to the bed. She’d been so quiet and he so engrossed in his book that he thought she’d been asleep for some time already.

Since such was the case, he was somewhat surprised that she answered and her bed moved as though she’d rolled over in his direction. Her voice was clearer in the black of night so he decided that she’d done so. “Good night, Arik. You know, I’ve been thinking about something you said earlier.”

“What’s that?”

“Your appraisal of a conflict between us. Honestly, you’re probably right about that. Distance bolt throwing and elemental manipulation have never been my thing.”

“Eh, you gravitated toward what you like and are good at. There’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s something you can work on if it matters to you.”

“Let me guess, you’ll be happy to tutor me in return for a share of my share.”

The idea amused him on a number of levels. “I might just offer a lesson or two on a complimentary basis as a gesture of goodwill, to maintain a positive working relationship, as it were. We can make a deal on future tutoring depending on how awful you are during the initial lessons.”

He liked the sound of her laughter, “You are working with Nax too much.”

“Maybe,” he agreed, “but the young man is reliable.”

“Well, you were right about me is all I felt the need to say. I have never been one for self-delusion. But, do you know what being right about me means?”

“Hmm?”

He heard the bed creak and give in a way to suggest sudden and rapid movement and something slide briefly against the skin at the back of his neck. It was so quick and clean that he felt nothing at all as his nerves caught up to the fact that they’d been severed for the length of an inch or so. “That means that you shouldn’t let me get close enough to you to strike.”

“What the fuck, Sylanna?” The pain numbed, then ended as quickly as it had began as he’d planned to roll over and come upright, but the numbness swept his body to such a degree that, by the time his hand had come back before him after touching the cut, he could no longer feel his fingers as he touched them together to try to get a sense of how much he was bleeding.

Heaviness began to add itself to the numbness and both moved through his extremities, taking control of them from him. “What are you doing? What’s going on?” Even his words were heavy on his lips, taking much added energy to get the words free. He already could tell that adding enough volume to call for help was out of the question.

In the dark, he heard weight shift on the bed above him again and then felt her weight descend upon him to straddle him. He tried to lift his hips to get her off him and act to reclaim his freedom or at least fight back, but his body was no longer his and he was already a prisoner within himself. His heart beat. He could close his eyes and open them to the blackness of the room so deep they may as well have stayed closed. Fear mixed with his anger and bewilderment as he waited for whatever came next. “Why?”

“You really should admire my little mix. Do you know how many years it took to get it just so, so that one can’t move, but breathe, blink, and still speak? It was such an undertaking that I feared it would become a life’s work, but here it is.”

“Is this what you wanted the plant for?”

“This? Laying you out so that I may do as I please? No, Arik, that was the easy part. What is coming is the truly extraordinary part, my friend. That I used the plant for. The plant, some exotic nectar, herbs, and magic to bind them.” She did not tell him that she couldn’t have done what she was about to do so quickly without the aid of Master and Mistress. They were her superiors in all things and it was her place in the universe to serve and obey. By the time she told him, he would understand.

“Why?”

“My Masters demand it,” she said, her words the very definition of zealotry. “What they wish is what shall be. My devotion to them is as eternal as my love for them.” She reached under the bed and retrieved the small container she had slipped there as Arik had left to get his bedding. She unscrewed the lid and allowed herself a moment to inhale the heady, spicy scent. She had tested it on herself with the aid of Master and she knew what it would be like for him.

He wondered if the drug she had given him, whatever it was, was affecting his mind because, for Sylanna, she was spouting nonsense. “Masters? Love? What happened to you? Whatever it is, stop this, and I can help you. I will help you, I swear.”

Her disdain was thick. “Right. Help me. Don’t forget that I know you. If I released you from this now, you would try to kill me rather than risk failure at helping me, even if the offer were serious. You like me well enough, and I you, but we’re not friends, not that this would be any more difficult for me if we were. Master demands it, so it shall be done.”

“I learned my true place, and so will you.” She put her index finger to the container and dragged it over the top, pulling up a thin layer of the creamy substance on the tip. “Lesson one.”

He could barely feel her finger pass his lips and touch his tongue. He tried to turn his head away, but, even with his fullest effort, he could only manage the merest fraction of an inch. His mouth instantly watered at the spicy taste as she spoke.

“It is a beautiful spring day...”

Arik took the opportunity to stretch his neck by craning it towards the sky. The day was just perfect. It was the kind of day that everyone looked for when summer was fading or winter was finally yielding, but they only saw a handful of them a year. The sky was a flawless blue, dappled with small, fluffy clouds that seemed to playfully chase one another across the sky.

The grass was an emerald green beneath him and he could look out and see the golden grain fields barely moving with a breeze that had just enough force behind it to keep the insects from pestering him. He knew that if he wanted to stretch his legs it was a leisurely stroll to those fields. He was far enough from town that he was well and truly alone, but not so far that he had to go without its luxuries if he didn’t want.

But, he had luxury enough right here. Even the tree upon which he rested under bore the sweet, yellow fruit he favored as a child and, even though it was a risk to have a known pattern, he always made his way to where he could get some once they were in season. It was a lovely day, in a lovely place and he had a stack of the books that he’d always intended to read, but had never gotten around to and some new ones that at least had compelling titles and held promise. He had all that and he knew the day was his.

So he read. He let himself be swept away by the narrative. The characters lived and breathed and the world so vividly written that he felt as if he’d inhabited it. He relished every moment of it, too, to the point where he lost all track of time and jumped when he heard a voice that was definitely outside of his imaginings from the pages before him. “Enjoying the book?”

He looked up to see a woman in cloaks so black it seemed as though someone had cut out a piece of the day in that specific shape. The shape was tall for a man or a woman, but the black leather form-fitting garment underneath wrapped around her curves in such a way as to announce her femininity clearly. The only splashes of color were a silver belt and a necklace, both of which carried hashes that created the impression of a predatory feline. He recognized it immediately as the emblem of Guild Vestrix.

And there was only one person from Vestrix that would hunt him as far as the beautiful bit of nowhere that was here.

He closed the book and moved slowly to stand up, knowing that he was unprepared, and while he didn’t see her pulling power to her to attack, he knew she was formidable and didn’t want to risk a provocation. He would defend himself, and finish any confrontation that started with absolute finality, but if he could get out of this without a fight, he would do so.

He had heard she had beauty equal to her power and it was so, seeing it for the first time when she pulled back her cowl. From her golden blond hair replete with curls that made soft waves down her shoulders, to her intense blue eyes to fine cheekbones and firm jawline that suggested royalty all by itself, the power of beauty adding itself to what he already had heard that she could bring to bear.

He tried to bring his own considerable charm to bear to keep try to keep the mood as non-confrontational as it seemed to be at this moment. “Bryana Lia, I presume?”

She dipped her head slightly without taking her eyes from him. “You presume correctly, Arik. I would say that it was a pleasure to meet you, but, under the circumstances...”

He sighed. He understood and couldn’t blame her. All he could give her was a bit of truth, even if it sounded trite. “Sometimes we are asked to do terrible things as mages. My history isn’t clean and neither is yours if even half the stories I’ve heard of you are true.”

It seemed to sadden her, “I don’t know the particulars of what you’ve heard, but it’s probably true and half the stories probably don’t cover a tenth of what I have done, but, Arik, of the few rules I had that I stuck to as religiously as a priestess to the Works was that I never directly targeted children.”

“No one would have harmed the young one,” he assured her. “I charged myself with watching over her. Nothing would have happened to her.”

“And you could guarantee that? You are fine with kidnapping, but you’ll kill or die to keep things from going too far?” She snickered at the notion. “I have more faith in the Goddess and she was made up by people simply because people want to control other people, people that didn’t understand why the sun rose in the sky, and are afraid to die.”

“Even if you believe that, such things tend to spiral out of control, particularly when one is as, how to put it, dedicated to a singular outcome as your client. Even if you believe that, it’s easy to make a proclamation of your limits when one speaks in hypothetical notions. In reality, lines blur or get pushed back entirely entirely in the moment or with the promise of money or power. That’s why such is a line I never put in front of me.”

He admitted that it was conversation he’d had with himself more than once in the days since the event, and he admitted to himself that perhaps she was right. “You might be right. But there’s nothing to be done about it now.”

“Save the application of justice,” Bryana answered.

Arik deflated, his shoulders slumping slightly. “If you insist. If there’s nothing that can be done to even the scales, especially considering that there was no harm done to the girl.”

She almost looked sorry for the words that came next. “I appreciate your contrition, but I’m afraid that won’t be enough. You have to pay for what you’ve done. Our world cannot see you wrong those close to me and then see you bargain your way out of what you’ve earned. Aside from that, Arik, I would not do so even if I could without losing face. Some transgressions cannot be rectified with an apology and a few errands and this is one of those transgressions.”

He moved to his left and stepped back two paces to put enough distance between the two that he could respond when she struck. She would have to strike first and commit herself to the battle. He told himself that, as an act of contrition, the least he could do was allow her the chance to reconsider what would come next.

And she seemed to. He saw no sign that she was bringing her power to her to. She simply studied the sky and then the fields, the road and the fruit trees around her. Arik hoped that this perhaps meant that she really was reconsidering what would come next.

“This really is a nice place,” she said, finally. “Some place you know?”

He looked with her, happy to entertain the chatter. Sometimes people needed to do that sort of things in order to walk themselves back from a precipice. “Not really. I travel the world and sometimes you just come across idyllic spots like this.”

“True.” Her eyes found the stack of books. “A reader as well, I see.”

“I am.”

“What are you reading now?”

“When you happened upon me, I was reading The Shadow Warrior.

“What’s it about?”

In response, he proceeded to describe several of the scenes he vividly recalled.

She took in the response and gave him a look of confusion in return. “Sounds interesting, if a bit disjointed. Anyway, I asked what it’s about? Who’s the protagonist? Antagonist? What’s it about?”

He opened his mouth to answer and realized that he didn’t have one. He saw the faces the story built with perfectly clarity. He saw the daring and their bravery and heard their humor. But, as he thought on it he began to realize that what he remembered were disjointed pieces that didn’t quite link up. There was no plot he could point to. He looked to the book as though the answers could be found on the tanned leather cover.

Her tone said she was trying too hard to be helpful. “Let’s try something simpler: how long have you been out here?”

He put extra thought into his answer, “Time tends to fly with a good book, but...much of the day.”

“Really?” She looked up, right hand shading her eyes. Has the sun moved at all?”

He looked up. It was nearly noon as he settled in. He remembered because he wanted to gauge how much time he had to enjoy the spot before he had to head to town for the night. It was still nearly noon. It was true that he could easily lose track of time with a good yarn, but there was no way that he lost none at all. He looked around, hoping for a clue, before he turned his ire back to Bryana, “What magic is this?”

She grinned as she reached to put a finger to his tongue. “Magic and chemistry, Arik.”

The world suddenly became black as pitch and it took time to orient himself back into the world. His whisper barely cut through it. “What happened?”

“Magic and chemistry, Arik.” Sylanna’s voice was prideful. “The Storchere has many gifts. Mix this and bind that and you create things with great power if you have the skill. Ever fallen asleep and had a dream that seemed to last for such a long time, then you snap awake and find out that it’s only been a few minutes? The mind can be tricked to play with time as one pleases, and dreams can be as vivid as reality. I build with words, and your mind builds the reality based on those words.”

“I know you felt the sun and the breeze on your skin. I know you tasted the fruit because you told me you did. We build it together and you live it.”

He was filled with dread and loathing for himself. He knew full well that the promise of the plant was almost too good to be true, but he took it because he knew it would get her to the meeting and not put his payday in danger. While he was established, he also had debts that needed paying and they wouldn’t take payment in favors. If it was a trap, he trusted her to see it and then he’d take his chances with her. But, clearly, she had fallen prey. His mind went to the dream and his true captor. “Bryana Lia was there.”

“She speaks through me. I know Her now. I know what She wants for you and She made clear to me how She sees us and what is to be done. We will be Hers. I am now, and you and Nax will follow. She wished for you to fall to Her even if She left it to me to gut this triad from within for what we’ve done. Tonight is your time. You will surrender and be remade.”

He found resolve despite the fact that he still lay on this floor paralyzed. “I will fight you.”

“And you could. You have a strong will and you are powerful in your own right. If I allowed a fight on your terms I would have to be very careful and hope to capitalize upon any mistake that you might make, otherwise I would be dead.” He could hear her happiness at the current situations. That’s why you will fight on my terms, Arik.”

“Rest assured though, I will make no mistakes. You will surrender and that surrender will be pleasurable. You will run to it eagerly by the time I am finished. Mistress has demanded punishment for us before we fall. I have endured and I am all the stronger for it. So it will be with you. That it will hasten your fall is all the better.”

The spice hit his tongue and the words invaded his mind, “The cell is cold and lonely...”

The cold seemed to radiate through the stone. It was never enough to make him think that he’d freeze to death, it was only enough to make him want to. The sun would send its light through the single window above him for an hour or so a day to, in its own way, torment him. For most of the year it did nothing to warm this place, it only made a warmer area that teased and promised relief before disappearing once again.

There was no sound to be heard from anywhere near him. Wherever this tower was he was alone in it. The only sign of others there at all were the footfalls that came twice a day to slide a meal under the door and then be gone. It seemed to happen at the same times every day so that was at least a means of marking time. He had tried to escape now and then when he first arrived, but those cold walls absorbed any magic he attempted to use against them. He couldn’t even use mage fire enough to heat the stone and warm the room. That would have been something, at least, but that wasn’t to be either.

He spent his days in the same way. He woke and waited for his meal, making it last as long as he could because it was something to do. Then he spent as much time as he could keeping himself fit and at least a little warmer by keeping himself moving. Then he would busy himself by taking a small bit of stone and trying to carve images into it. It was slow going, but all he had was time and whatever he could do to fill it. Then another meal came that he extended as long as possible before leaving the plate near the slat in the door to be picked up with the new one. When he first arrived He’d scream himself hoarse almost every day and sent the plates between the iron bars of the window, falling so far that he couldn’t hear when they hit the ground in the hopes of gaining a response, but there was none.

No one cared to question or even torment him, so he had taken to talking to himself. At first. It was just at night as he lulled himself to sleep with promises and plans of escape. It slowly became a matter of more often than not. With no ‘who’ to tell him why he was there, he had taken to becoming his own torturer, moving through his own sordid past and into every deed that might have warranted such a punishment. Mixed blessing that it was, there was no shortage of events for him to pick apart and judge. The days rolled into one another, then the weeks, then the seasons. The room in winter was so cold, even huddled in the blanket and fetal it sucked the heat from his guts.

Day in, day out, season in, season out, he was left to wither with the knowledge there was nothing left but to know he would fall to the ravages of time and hope that it happened sooner rather than later. One bitter winter’s night the thought struck him that drained what little energy his soul clung to. This is the Void. This is where those who have put far more evil into the world than good while they were alive and were found by the Goddess to be irredeemable. They were locked away from light, warmth, other souls...literally anything the light of a being needed to sustain itself in the forever after. He tried to talk himself out of it for a moment by pointing out all the flaws in his perception. There was light from the sun and a touch of warmth and someone brought his meals. There was a human there. There was light. There was warmth.

Because, take it from one long enough, they’ll forget that those joys ever were. For an hour a day on some days he could see the sun and have the lightest kiss of its warmth. He could hear the footfalls of a person, but they never spoke. They were there, but they never even cared enough to mock him. They are there enough to remind of what you cannot truly have. They are your penance.

Arik pulled the blanket over his head to reclaim some warmth as he wept, remembering the endless march of days that got him here and looking forward to an endless march more. “I am sorry, Goddess. I am so sorry. I will do anything you ask. I will repent. I do repent. I will do anything to have life and be warm again.”

Then there was blackness and a familiar voice, even though it had been so many decades gone by that he could not place it. “Warm you shall be.” A spicy taste hit his tongue again and words pulled him from blackness. “It is a desert...”

And he was. Not only was he warm, he felt as though burning. He opened his eyes slowly and kept them to the merest slits against the broiling sun above him. He was staked nude, his body nestled just above hot, white sand. The sun was whiter still, almost entirely devoid of gold, and so intense it seemed to have burned away much of the blue of the sky until it was only slightly more pale than the star above.

He was dying. He could feel it. There was heat and pain. His skin was blistered and peeling from his body and he could swear he could feel heat against the bone. His tongue was thick and his mouth was so dry that any attempt to swallow hurt his throat and triggered coughing that did nothing but scrape his throat like metal shards against the soft tissue and bring dry, nearly blazing air that felt like that hot sand being driven into his chest.

He was dying, but also he knew that he would not be allowed to die. She wouldn’t gift him that. He would bake in this funeral pyre until there was nothing left, but he would be forced to hover at the last moment that there was still something. He also knew that that moment would be worse than this, he just couldn’t imagine how as time stretched to a crawl and the sun flayed him.

“You hear the screams of the damned and those only repentant after they know they are caught...”

The screams curdled his blood and clawed at his mind. They were their own torture, but when he looked around the cavernous room, he realized that, as horrible as things were for him now, he was being kissed tenderly compared to some of those around him taking the retribution mandated by the Goddess. Ropes pulled at some, while blades, some dull and others hot, did what they were meant to do to those that deserved it. His punishment was comparatively light at the moment, but he knew he would have his turn on the tables and the racks. When all the options were a horror, it was only a matter of degrees.

The hand like a claw of the largest, most gnarled limb, of the largest, oldest tree in the forest shoved his head into the freezing water and the internal clock started again. How long could he hold his breath? Would his heart burst through his chest this time because of the icy knives stabbing every point on his exposed body at once because it was just one time too many? Or would he drown because the beast held him there in spite of his struggles just a bit too long and he took in just too much water?

Arik struggled out of animal reflex to find out what the outcome would be this time.

Blackness returned to surround him as he gasped for breath, and, before he could speak, he felt the spiciness on his tongue again.

When Sylanna withdrew, he made a plea that came from every part of his being. “Don’t. Please. No more.”

“Buried alive...”

The blackness was still there. There was no help to be had. He was afraid to breathe the stale, humid air because it was perhaps the last breath that could sustain him while the stone he was encased in leeched his warmth from him yet again. He pounded his fists into it as hard as he could and drove his mage fire into them to no result beyond certainly blinding himself and threatening to set himself aflame. “Let me out!. By the Goddess, let me out. I surrender, I repent.” He cried like an abandoned child, tears stinging him and mixing with the spots before his eyes. “Goddess, help me. Help me!” he used up the last of the air with his deafening cries for mercy and, by the time he used the last gulp of it, he was no longer certain if he was pleading to the Goddess as that ethereal myth or the woman who was tearing away at reality itself, or the woman who orchestrated it all. As long as someone answered him, he was long past caring as to the who or why.

“Help me!” This call didn’t reverberate against a slab of stone. It was carried by a breeze. He looked around, wondering what fresh terror awaited, but all he saw around him were playful clouds against blue sky, grain fields yielding to the breeze a leisurely stroll away, fruit trees before him, and a quiet road to a quiet inn in town and books under a tree that asked to be read.

And Bryana Lia standing next to them, thumbing through one as she leaned against the tree casually, as though there would never be a demand upon her time again. She looked up, not at all surprised to see him. “You look terrible, Arik. Are you all right?”

He dropped to his knees, sobbing for all he was worth, like he never had cause to in his life before now, wherever and whatever now was. He hugged himself and he cried, shivering for a moment in response to the feel of her hand running through his thick hair with gentleness she did not expect, even though her words had a hard edge of inviolable truth to them. “You have suffered and you know why it has come to you. That’s what I wanted and that is what my loves wanted.”

“But you are not broken yet. I can feel it. I still see the embers of resistance glowing within. You will quash them or I will.”

Arik felt broken. He wanted this all to stop and if it took death to do it, it would be welcome.

“There are things from deep within your mind that I can use; things that I have glimpsed that you aren’t even aware of as you helped me build your tortures. Do you want to continue the tour? Do you want to see the faces of those you have wronged? See them? Hear them wonder why they deserved what you did to them? Be able to touch them as you feel me touch you now?”

He shook his head to try to force himself awake. “Morning will come.” He completely forgot that he only had to hold out a tiny march of hours before Nax stormed in demanding that one of them relive him.

In spite of everything, there was some pity to be found. “Arik, it’s only been half an hour.”

Despair took him in wracking sobs. He’d spent hours, days, weeks, and years in those worlds. She was lying. She had to be.

But he knew she wasn’t. “What do I have to do?”

“The choice is simple: surrender or endure. As Sylanna’s fall was pleasurable, yours can be as well. Or you can suffer, and, by the Goddess, I will make you suffer.”

He had some idea of what she would make him endure, but what made the choice for him was what she promised to pull from his mind that even he wasn’t aware of. He offered his hand and looked up to see her nude before him, save the silver amulet that carried the mark of her guild. She was desirable to anyone with eyes.

Suddenly, he was on top of her in the grass, as naked as she was, though there was no memory of foreplay where he had disrobed, he was simply reaching down and guiding himself between her spread legs. He pressed his body to hers and he relished it, not just because he was hard and she was soaked like a wanton slut, but he was comfortable, and fed, and safe, and could fill his lungs with crisp, clean air. It was all as real as what had come before and he had learned that that was more than real enough.

He lay himself on top of her, pumping slowly at first, as he usually did. Every woman had their own unique feel and he loved exploring that. She was tight, her cunt milking him even in those first strokes as he braced his hands against her knees. Her hands roamed his chest and body, tracing the markings on his body, finding the paths of his power. As her power entered those conduits he was compelled to press his cock into her as tightly as he could manage while he he rested his body on hers and his chin on her shoulder. When his ears heard the sweet, syrupy, lyrical sounds of the corruption spell, he began to pump faster to kill those embers of resistance in his belly with honest pleasure and aid the spell in its taking of him.

This was better, the rational part decided. If anything of him survived until morning, it would be broken emptiness that wore a shell that looked like a man. Her legs locked around him with inhuman strength and her hands clawed around the back of his skull, seeming to dig into his brain. Now the rational part of his mind was being quelled and smoothed to an obedient core as the spell continued to weave and his hips slapped into her like a mad, frenzied thing.

“You will belong to Her.”

“I will belong to her.”

“Your cock thrusts because She demands it. Your mind surrenders because She demands it. You belong to Her.”

“I belong to Her.”

Hearing the words excited her sexually as much as anything ever had. “Faster.”

“Her magic reshapes your mind and your will.”

“I belong to Her.”

There was blackness around him once again, but there was no fear. It didn’t matter where he was. He was safe and inside Her and She was inside him as She decided what he would be.

Even thinking words of ownership in such a way was an orgasm and he wanted to pound his cock inward, and surrender and he would be allowed to until the work She was set to was done. Even so, the thought, “I belong to her.”

We belong to her.