The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Deres Valtise walked the halls of the queen’s castle pondering the long, meandering, and wondrous path that brought him to this point. Beginning life as an orphan and beggar child in one of the poorest parts of the city, it seemed to him even then that his life was set. He would live hand-to-mouth through begging and petty theft until he was large enough and old enough for serious manual labor, probably in moving cargo at the docks or something else that didn’t require much in the way of education that he never would have gotten a chance to have anyway. He would marry someone of much the same station, they’d have children and, if he were lucky, they’d have enough to get by and, if truly fortunate, perhaps one of his children would have the chance at something a little better.

That was one desire that all parents shared regardless of status, but, for people that lived the way his life began, it was something that they prayed to the Goddess to nightly. Even then, the gifts and fortunes of high nobility would be beyond them, unless they were comely enough to catch the eye of a noble so enamored of them that they might bring them up from that. Such a thing was rare however, with nobles generally content to keep them a secret, no matter how enamored they were, because one’s social standing had to be maintained and a noble openly wedding a lesser was a mark against that social standing that could linger for a generation or two, at least.

Even as a child praying to the Goddess for better while huddled in a dark corner for the night, he never could have imagined how, if She existed at all, She favored him with a gift out of a dream. One day, he attempted and failed at an act of petty larceny against not just a woman, but a Magister of Adar, one of the greater mages from what was thought to be a mythical city where it was said some of the last practitioners of all magic could be after they fled for their lives into the wastes beyond, where people were never meant to live. With their understanding of magic, science, and how they could combine, along with the incentive that came with knowing they would have to adapt or they would die, they built a city that was a monument to that combination, capable of wonders in both fields that the rest of the world could scarcely contemplate.

Seeing in that young boy his need for a life that wasn’t all but bereft of hope and, in herself, the opportunity for a life with a family that she never seemed to have time for until that moment brought its absence to the fore, she took him to that fabled city and raised him as her own.

There, he absorbed everything his mother, the others there, and the world they had built had to teach. After his formative years and then some, the call of the larger world and the home he once knew was too much to ignore, so he took his leave with a heavy heart and anticipation in equal measure and returned to Erette. Not long after having done so, however, not only did his life take an irrevocable turn, so did the lives of two others.

He saw Neral Jaye, commander of the combined forces of Erette shadowed by another wandering the upper markets with Bryana Lia as her shadow, using her own mage skills to remain unnoticed. Lia, a mage of this world, had been hired by a rival of House Jaye to use that magic to corrupt Neral into murdering her lifelong friend and queen. With the queen gone and House Jaye sullied beyond redemption for its responsibility for the act, the rival house would have vastly expanded its power and influence and may have even found a path to the throne.

Curiosity would have led him to learn more about what was going on and his sense of right and wrong would have led him to help, but, Neral took his heart at the first sight of her. He had never seen quite that combination of strength and beauty in one form before, tall and powerful, but she carried it easily and without losing a bit of femininity. Those liquid brown eyes were something he could lose himself within forever, so that was what drew him to her and offer his aid.

But, even though he was a captured soul, he saw an opportunity to secure his future. He offered his help to Neral in return for her hand in marriage. Initially aghast at the arrangement in the face of the threat to queen and kingdom, she saw the practicality of it from his perspective. She would die for her queen without a second thought, so to marry a man who was in a position to help was nothing when it came to a price to pay. And, to make that price easier to pay, she chose a spell of love that he offered.

Capturing Bryana took a feat of magic and turning her away from the plot and away from the person that she was that could embrace it took a feat of magic and science. The plot foiled, Bryana had remained, at first because the magic required her to make amends to the one she had most wronged, but later, because the lives of the three of them had entwined in adventure, life lived, and genuine love and affection. No matter who else came into their lives or how, the three remained as one. Add the bright star of his life that was young Khylen, and his life was just the right side of perfect.

Now, back to the place of his humble beginnings, he was in a place that, in its own way was just as incredible as a life in a city of myth. A boy who once tried to sleep as much as possible during particularly lean days so that he might not feel the pangs of hunger quite so much could now come and go from the royal castle and the queen’s presence as he pleased, knowing he had earned her trust and affection in his own right. The boy he was would have never believed the journey and there were times, like now, that he had to take stock of it himself.

Today was a day that found him working with the military healers, mentoring where need be and sharing his knowledge of the arts, though he had to be careful to hide the full extent of his abilities even in the sanctioned healing magics, sharing only small steps along the lines that were already being studied so as not to risk exposing himself to the wider world and he didn’t want to suggest avenues, even in the healing magics, that the greater world might not be ready for, and might be willing to do almost anything to possess.

Neral wanted detailed progress reports on such things with regularity because it simply wouldn’t do for her not to know exactly what the troops under her command were capable of before she set them to something or something came to them. He carried with him such a report as he wound his way through the stone corridors and past the personnel who worked there with him.

Turning left into the more expansive area that was the anteroom to General Jaye’s primary office to find Nelina Jaye looking through the worn pages of a book that presumably came from the stack of them on her desk. The two looked similar in that they were both slightly shorter than average and powerfully built, but there was still a young woman there. She rarely bothered with makeup while on duty and didn’t indulge in it overmuch off duty, save for court ceremonies where a woman was required to “display her wiles,” as many said, though Nelina’s appraisal was, “look like a whore.”

Occasionally, it was fun to look that way, she simply objected to the requirement.

Her fine brown hair was reasonably short, stopping just below her collar and longer bangs helped frame her face. She maintained herself in full uniform, as her day often entailed going back and forth from the castle, to the city, to the training grounds for this errand and that and her rank insignia, coupled with that of her House tended to speed things along. That and, simply, she was an officer in the military, as proud of her service as Neral was.

She glanced up at the sound of footfalls and gave him a welcoming nod. “Deres.”

He smirked. “Uncle Deres.”

Her green eyes betrayed nothing. “You know that familiarity is inappropriate here, yet you feel you must.”

“Because I feel I must. Testing you on occasion amuses me. Is she in?”

“She is,” Nelina answered. “She is awaiting your input and that of several others before a status meeting this afternoon.”

He craned his neck and tilted his head to examine the spines of the ledgers that populated her desk, “Is that what you’re doing now?”

“It is.”

He watched her pen move across the paper furiously. “I have always admired your work ethic.”

She didn’t even look up, “And I yours, though it hardly surprises me. We are Jayes. There is no room for sloth in our House.”

A wondrous path indeed. It wasn’t an ‘Uncle Deres,’ but he decided he would take it. The House Jaye was always forward thinking and, while Neral’s sisters had interrogated him thoroughly when he came into their lives, he had passed, and Neral loved him, so his acceptance was swift. For their children it was swifter still as all children tended to push boundaries and create new norms. They never cared where he came from, only that he honored his family and their House.

He walked to the door and knocked sharply.

“Enter.”

The heavy wooden door opened inward with the slightest squeak and he saw Neral and smiled, not just because he loved her so, but because he found her, head down, and pen moving over paper in a flurry of movement. Jayes indeed. He closed the door behind him and waited patiently. “Good morning, Deres,” she said pleasantly, also without bothering to look up from her writing.

“Good morning, Neral. I note your niece is doing basically the same thing, so either you are both busy or you are at least trying to look busy.”

“Nelina is doing her job, as am I. I am simply trying to progress through this task as quickly as possible because I find it so boring as to be drain on my spirit.”

He felt a bit badly, his dark blue eyes conveying sympathy, “I’m sorry to hear that, my love.”

“You have done all you can do,” she said, resigned to the fact that this day would mostly be one of paperwork and meetings. There probably wouldn’t even be time to observe training as she often did, not and get home to have a proper dinner with her family. She still failed at that more often than she wanted to, but she was getting better at managing all the demands on her time. “You have provided me a distraction.”

With that, she looked up and reached for his papers. He saw those brown eyes meet his, and his heart skipped a beat but he managed not to smile. She took them and skimmed for names and the bits of information she sought. “Master Healer Vorik disagrees with you.”

The shoulders of Deres’s powerful frame shrugged, “He does so often, but he at least does it amiably, so I sort of find the arguments entertaining.” His brow furrowed, “Don’t tell him that though, you’ll only encourage him.”

“Perish the thought,” she said, thinking actually that it might be a bit of fun torture of her husband to let that slip casually. “At any rate, he believes Peri is better suited to being taught the battlefield surgical specialties than Denin, and there is only room for one left in this year’s class.”

“He would be wrong,” Deres said, his convictions firm. “Denin is the choice.”

Neral countered. “Peri’s knowledge base is deeper to begin with. She comes from a family of healers while Denin, what he does know, was self taught.”

“And Peri is gifted, and, while the surgical arts, I am certain will be open to her someday if she applies herself, Denin’s concentration is much better now. When it comes to a knowledge base for surgery coupled with concentration, on a scale of one to ten, I would take a four that can concentrate so as to shut out the world over a seven that is easily distracted. Technique is easy to teach. The ability to put yourself in a place where you can properly use it is not.”

She nodded slowly, “That...seems logical to me. She looked up at him again, this time in leadership mode, “but I am not inclined to overrule my master healer based solely on one person’s recommendation...even if I respect his opinion and like him quite a bit.”

“And you don’t need to. After an energetic, amiable argument, Vorik has agreed to put them to an additional concentration test and make the decision based on that. It’s based on methods and tests I took when I was learning.”

“As long as the decision is made in two weeks, I defer to my healers who are in a better position to know than I.” She opted to tease, as she was enjoying her break, “Did you tell him where you learned your little test?”

“From one of the many traveling healers I learned from, of course,” he said with a wink. “I just dropped the idea. Some changes had to be made because it normally uses technology you do not have.” He picked up on her tone and took it as permission to flirt just a bit. “There’s another problem that has come up though,” he said seriously.

She tensed, preparing herself to deal with it. “Oh?”

He drew closer to her, “You only like me?”

She rose and mirrored the action, now close enough to put them nearly nose-to-nose, her ponytail swishing slightly as she moved. “I did say, ‘a lot.’ Besides, it’s good to like the person you are spending your life with, is it not?

“You are wise, dearest.”

“I am,” she said, walking around the table to face him. “As are you. Yet another thing we have in common.” She embraced him and felt his powerful arms come around her in return. “I meant to note earlier that you seem to have had a wonderful night last night with Cassea.”

It amused him to remain circumspect. “Based on what?”

“Oh, the fact that it’s always a little difficult for her to maintain her usual witty venom and disdain for others after her master has thoroughly used her. She knows that I know and it shames her a bit.”

“In ways that she enjoys as much as she disdains.”

Neral was thoughtful. “I can at least understand. To know that feeling of being owned, to want it even though it challenges the person you believed you were can be difficult. Another that knows it looking you in the eye, I suppose, can be bothersome, particularly if that someone is your owner’s wife.”

“That’s true,” he agreed, “but, you have to admit that you have a bit of fun seeing her squirm.”

She sighed, caressing his cheek, “That’s true. And she likes to squirm, so I let it be.”

“How was your night with Tessa?”

A blush filled her cheeks. “Wonderful, as is usual. She is an extraordinary woman, and I continue to be fond of her.”

“Continuing the long history of ties between House Jaye and House Jovis?”

This time her hand returned to his cheek in a playful slap. “My mother could tell you stories of how the ties between our Houses have deepened over generations. She takes pride in knowing our history, even the pieces that every House has, but are never discussed with tea and polite company.”

That very much appealed. “I think I need to brush up on Jaye family history with your mother over tea.”

Neral laughed. It was a boisterous, pleasant sound that complimented a fresh blush in her cheeks. “So you admit to being impolite company?”

“Occasionally,” he admitted with humor. “It comes from my lowbrow beginnings, I guess.”

The general seemed resigned to things. “I love you anyway.” Before he could respond, she kissed him deeply, so what was on the tip of his tongue was forgotten when it met hers. Instead, he tightened his embrace of her and savored the moment. He never forgot to do that, lest he begin to be unworthy of his good fortune. He had hoped to stay lost in the moment, but three hard knocks on the door took him from it.

They exchanged looks. Hers was one of Sigh. Duty calls, while his was one of understanding. “Enter,” she said crisply as they parted from one another.

Nelina entered and Neral immediately tensed. Enough was conveyed by Nelina’s rigid posture, at attention and awaiting orders even as she moved and spoke, and the concern in her young eyes to tell Neral that, whatever it was, it was as serious as could be.

She ignored Deres to meet Neral’s eyes. “There are reports of riots in the lower markets.”

Neral blinked. Of all the things she had anticipated, riots, in the southern quarter was not one of them. There had been occasional demonstrations in her tenure, but few of those required more than monitoring by the constabulary, and even those had been rare during Queen Evaline’s reign because they recognized her as a reformer and she had made their lives better through those reforms. Unlike her father, and certainly unlike previous rulers before them, she saw them as people with less, not lesser people. “Riots?”

Nelina nodded sharply. “Witnesses state that the commerce area nearest the docks in engulfed in flames and rioters are spreading outward from that point. The constabulary is asking for assistance, as they have been caught completely off guard by it at all, much less the ferocity. Chief Constable Lasar is giving it a wide berth, setting up blockades at the major cross streets and fortifying the natural barriers of the city to attempt to keep it from spreading beyond the mercantile section and to protect the docks.” She looked down to the paper given to her so that she didn’t misquote the quote. “It’s like they got bored and decided to go insane.”

While Neral drilled her troops for such operations as her predecessors had in the past because not so much time had passed from the last ones that they had faded from collective memory, she had honestly thought she’d never have to employ them. She had added her own ideas to them and drilled for those with the city constables, too, but she had played with the idea that they would be but notes left for the ones that followed her, or, ideally, footnotes in some history book that would sort of mock the time in the dark past that people were once so oppressed they felt the need to burn their city to the ground in order to have their pleas noticed.

She dismissed the thoughts. There would be time for introspection later. Action was required now, Lasar would have had to call up his reserves already to have had a chance of protecting the docks and stave off any rushes onward and upward. She started walking through the corridor, aiming for the stables. “Have Major Vix meet me with riot companies one and two at Kavin Park. I want a good look at what we’re facing before I decide precisely how to proceed. Colonel Dion is to remain in command here in the event that the military is the target or becomes one.”

“Yes, General.” Nelina burned the words into her mind.

Now, apparently, was time for her to see if her own ideas had practical merit or if she had no choice but to, as her predecessor so delicately phrased it, ‘Knock idiot skulls together until they’ve had enough.’ And even he had a kinder perspective than some of those that had come before him. Even he kept to the notion that these were fellow citizens, while others in his position had thought them traitors and treated them that way more often than not.

“Inform Elan that she and her archers are to prepare for riot response as we’ve discussed; Healer Vorik as well.”

“Yes, General. After I do so I’ll prepare to accompany you.”

“You will not,” she said, gently but firmly, stopping there and looking at her wondering, dejected expression. “After you have carried out your orders you will report to the queen and do anything that might be required by her or Captain Tanik.”

“General...”

“A Jaye has been the king or queen’s side at times like this, whether it be as one in my position, member of the White Guard, or simply as a loyal sword arm at their side for as far back as either of our families can remember.” She placed her hand firmly on her niece’s shoulder. “I will not break that tradition now, so I send the queen a Jaye that can and will protect her as well as anyone.”

Her disappointment vanished upon hearing the words and seeing the determination in Neral’s eyes. Nelina put her fist to her heart in salute with a snap. “If the queen comes to harm it will be because I’m already dead.”

“I don’t expect it to, but let’s not have it come to that, shall we?” With one last pat on her shoulder, Neral sent her off. “Go.”

She finally looked at Deres, seeing the concern and dread in his eyes and her heart was heavy. “You know I don’t want to hurt my own people.”

He sighed deeply and nodded in understanding, taking her hand, just to feel the anchor of her at that moment. “Of course. But people have been hurt already and will be before it’s over no matter what you do.”

She squeezed his hand. “Let’s do what we can to minimize that number.”

Major Vix was at General Jaye’s right on his own steed as the general sidled alongside and shifted her weight on the greenery. The air carried with it smoke from the fires below and he inhaled it, gritting his teeth, and managing to do little more than need clear his throat, using it to prepare himself for whatever had to be done. He watched the tongues of orange and white fire lick the sky and the smoke rise as the fires consumed everything not stone, with the windows of the stone buildings belching black.

Between him and them were two dozen healing mages in their gray and red cloaks and twice that number in reserves; men in their everyday clothes and each with a heavy shield, short sword, and heavy sticks. The clubs were the first resort and the swords the last if others had drawn first. They weren’t proper soldiers, but they’d follow orders.

He’d seen villages and whole cities burn like this because they’d come too late to meet the raiders that had sacked outlying areas of the kingdom. It seemed they could never be stopped, as it was easier to gang up on a small village and take what wasn’t theirs than to work for something of their own. Or enemy troops in one far flung region or other where he had put his boots to the ground burning to deny him and his men resources, respite, or simply to make everyone pay a price for every foot of ground lost. In some ways this was like that, but in ways that made him scratch his blond beard, it was decidedly not.

He was still weighing his thoughts when archers and more infantry moved in behind him while others still made their way to cross streets on either side of the mob. He stayed quiet, allowing the general to take in the scene. “Something is strange,” he said finally, his voice rough, “I don’t know how or why, general, but we’ve been standing here watching this and it seems...aimless somehow. Scouts in earshot report no calls for equity or justice. There seems to be no target other than anything or anyone closest to them and, while they are seeking fresh targets, usually the sight of soldiers is enough to get the mob rushing for us, but they don’t seem to care.”

“Lasar suggests they just decided to go insane.”

His thick brow rose, looking back out at the mob, then to the general. “Right now, I wouldn’t completely discount that. And we are now receiving reports from the constables of sporadic violence in neighboring areas, but nothing organized. Brawls. Husbands and wives going after one another with kitchen knives. Not concentrated like the markets, but particularly vicious and, whatever it is took hold of some of the constables trying to deal with it. One said he watched two of his fellows go mad right in front of him trying to break up a fight before he fled for his life.”

There was a cold knot forming in her gut, trying not to acknowledge the conclusion that she’d already come to. “Illness?”

“We’ve seen illness. I’ve seen illness that looks like insanity, but I’ve never seen anything that takes hold so fast.” He leaned forward in the saddle to catch Deres’s eye. “You?”

Deres’s eyes seemed to be focused at some point in the distance and he kept his attention there. “No. But it’s not as if there’s nothing left to be discovered in the world.” He glanced down to it before reaching to place his hand over hers. As she turned in response, something crossed her vision. Her first thought went to it being ember from the fires, but as she followed she realized they they weren’t. They were white, and bright, and small. They actually did remind her of emberflies, but smaller. So small, she realized, she shouldn’t be able to see them, yet she could. She saw them float on the wind.

That and more.

She saw the bright white collected here and there like mineral deposits in the distance; on the bits of landscaping that were still untouched by fire or rage. Things they couldn’t have been able to see through the same means that there was anything to see at all: magic. Magic that the healers couldn’t see because they weren’t trained to look for it. She looked to Deres and seeing anger, worry, and determination in his eyes, knowing they were mirrored in her own.

There were indeed things to be discovered, like who would do such a thing and why. But those were questions for later. Right now, there were more immediate problems. Breaking the riot was necessary, but, based on what she knew now it could be just as dangerous to her own people as anyone else. As she thought of the next step Deres pressed his fingertips to her skin just so, so that she would not lose his sight of things.

As the silence dragged, Vix prodded her respectfully, “Sir?”

“Not yet,” Neral said in a command tone as she tilted her chin to the air. “Feels like their might be a shift in the wind. If there is. I want to see what that might do to the fire before we decide to move.”

That was command enough for Deres. What lesser practitioners tapped with runes drawn into the fabric of things, he could work that fabric when it came to the elements with his mind alone. Mastery of the base elements was one of the first things an Adaran Mage learned. Excite the building blocks of the air and you could move it, excite and force them closer and you could heat it, slow those movements and you can cool it. In this case, the added difficulty came from shifting the wind in one way for his audience and in other ways to in order to create swirling funnels to gather the magic-marked materials and push as much as he could out to sea. It would be impossible to get it all, but if its effects were particularly long-lived the whole city might have been consumed by now.

He was satisfied with his progress, though it was a somewhat draining and complex dance. Smoke swirled in unusual ways here and there, despite his best efforts to keep the funnels tight, though he hoped the movements were subtle enough that a bystander would attribute it to the fact that, in many ways, fire moved like a living thing, and, like a moving living thing, sometimes unpredictably. It was that much more difficult in that he had to look to those around him as though he were doing nothing at all. Deres was finally relaxed himself and pulled his power away, feeling as though he had done all he could to eliminate as much of this apparent catalyst as could be done.

He looked to Neral and she took the unspoken cue in turn. “All right. It’s going to do what it’s going to do.” More loudly, “Be careful once we move in with the people as unpredictable as the flame.” She turned to Vix. “Major?”

He gave her a curt nod and his voice boomed through the air, “Archers ready.”

Behind him, the torchbearer closest to the archers lit their arrows, igniting the white bundles lashed to the shaft. Each, in turn, lit the arrow of the person next to them until all were aflame. They wouldn’t fly far with the added weight, but they didn’t need to. “Ready.” Neral recognized the clear, sharp voice that Elan now tapped while on duty and she found comfort knowing it was behind her.

Vix raised his arm to the sky for a moment, giving them each time to find their aim. It came forward and his voice boomed again. “Loose!”

Neral heard the slicing sound of arrow through the air and the soft crackling of fire before she saw them arc together heading for the crowds, white trails behind them as they found their marks with surprising precision around and between the largest crowds. They watched as the fire burned the sheathing around the bundles tied to the arrows. Once the layers of fabric had burned through and the chemicals within ignited, a thick, white smoke belched from them.

As the wind carried it, in those moments where it thinned, they could see a greater instinct to protect themselves taking hold over the desire to keep attacking one another. Healing mages had perfected this particular formula long ago. The smoke dissipated fairly quickly, but the impaired vision and disorientation lingered for some time after exposure. The people below stopped trying to beat and kill one another as it took hold, many trying to frantically tried to wave it away as they stumbled forward, trying to navigate through it with teary eyes. There was still rage. There was still anger roiling within them, but now it lacked focus, as there was no body to rend or beat that was beating them with equal ferocity. The mobs were now fighting something that didn’t react as their animal instincts expected so there was now panic. They ran into one another in their haste and confusion and bolted away, fearful that whatever was doing this to them was upon them.

Neral observed the results with satisfaction as the seconds ticked by in her mind. No one seemed to be interested in a fight with anyone but each other, but, more disorientation was better in her view, at least before she moved her people in. “Healers, light and sound,” she ordered crisply with some relief in her voice at the likelihood that she wouldn’t have to hurt anyone. The priority now was to piece together what was going on because it was certainly bigger than a riot in the southern quarter.

The healers, Deres included, raised their hands, weaving the simple magics they were all allowed to know; colored lights and shapes and sound projected outward. Most of them used the skills to entertain others for a few extra coin. This was the first time they’d been called upon to use the skills in this way. It had always been an option, but the idea of allowing mages to use their skills to fight, even in this limited fashion, put many people on edge. Even some of the healers themselves were uneasy, fearing people knowing that they fought, even in this passive manner, would exacerbate the fear and prejudice they already felt.

Their skills in play were a beautiful sight all the same. Streamers of light in all colors and so bright it was almost unbelievable that the eye could endure it played around the crowds, like serpents, weaving between people, coiling around them, and around one another in the air, shedding and raining bits of light as they did. Add explosions of sound in the air coming seemingly from nowhere and all around them at once, many of the people afflicted by it all continued to try to run while others huddled into balls on the stone streets or curled themselves into a fetal position, adrenaline and fear combining to bring to many at least a semblance of lucidity.

Watching the scattering and surrender of the throngs, Neral decided it was time. “Healers, light and sound perimeter. I don’t want too many to be able to slip through into the shadows. Major Vix,” she began, “let’s press forward.”

Word of the riots had spread quickly and the timing was such that, by the time it had done so, the private school within the city attended by most of the younger children of the high houses had already begun dismissing classes as normal, so, rather than cause confusion, they simply continued to do so. Aside from the desire not to confuse parents or frighten the children, no one saw the need to alter schedules simply because none of the unrest ever made it this far into the city.

Once news touched Tessa’s ears however, she was immediately in a state of controlled panic. She could admit to herself that it was a holdover from her childhood. Being a young girl and hearing the stories of people behaving like animals and rampaging through the streets bent on killing, burning, and destroying the very foundations of Erette so they could rebuild it into something unrecognizable gave her nightmares.

As she grew older, read, and lived, she understood that many of those people had good reason to resort to violence to be heard and to try to make their lives better, but the feelings of fear and dread were still a part of her and it urged her to act. Knowing that the schools probably wouldn’t take any unusual steps, and, since Neral made it clear that, as House Mistress, she could do what she thought best in such a situation when it came to young Khylen, she decided it was best to bring the little one home. It wouldn’t be too terribly early and she would be safer at home anyway. At least Tessa would feel better if the young lady were at home.

Cassea accompanied her, her stride cool and composed, as it usually was. The look on her face was as though she were politely dealing with being put upon, which was also not entirely unusual. Very different from Tessa, she never thought the two would become friends, but they had done so all the same when Tessa realized that her prickly demeanor covered for a warm soul that was fiercely loyal to her House and those in it. Knowing her when Cassea was House Mistress of an opposing family, she knew that that part of the young woman’s personality now was always a part of her. How ever she might have come to House Jaye, Tessa knew she would have served it with the same loyalty and zeal as she served her House then. That she had begged to be taken by Deres’s power and lived as much owned as not only anchored her to the House and those in it with that much more certainty.

There was a person of deep feelings within and Tessa suspected that Cassea had insisted on coming with her simply so she didn’t go alone, though, with amusement, she also noted that if she actually said that out loud, Cassea would probably take it as a cue to respond with sarcasm as though insulted, so she decided to keep her thoughts to herself as they walked, knowing the only thing they’d end up talking about were the events of the day and there was nothing worse than morose chit-chat.

Upon reaching the school, it was a simple matter to take Khylen from class, but that’s where the effortless part ended. She put her arms through her little powder blue coat with polished silver buttons as Tessa held it for her, “What’s wrong?”

Tessa remained chipper. “Can’t we just bring you home a little early because we like you?”

“Class is almost done anyway and the teachers were whispering things before, but didn’t say anything to anybody, so we were all wondering.” She pushed Tessa’s hands gently away from the buttons. “Thank you. I can do it.”

“Let me help anyway,” Tessa said more forcefully, deciding to split the difference and button the bottom ones as the little one did the top.

Cassea wasn’t one to coddle the child and certainly wouldn’t start now, though she did smile and do her best to keep her own tone an unconcerned one, “There’s nothing to worry about, but there are protests in the city and your mother is tending to that. We thought it best to get you on the way home just to make Tessa feel better.”

Tessa’s head snapped to the right to catch the smirk on the other’s face and the raised eyebrows that asked, ‘Am I wrong?’

Tessa’s irritation spiked because she wasn’t. Khylen’s fierce eyes, not unlike her mother’s, softened, taking the irritation for fear. “Okay, but don’t worry, Tessa, Mother will fix it. I’m sure they will tell mother and auntie Evaline what’s the matter and they will see to it.”

Tessa mirrored that softness in her green eyes and she was reminded of some of the reasons why she loved children. Their faith in those they loved were unbreakable and they tended to distill everything into the most simple, straightforward truths. “I’m sure you’re right, Khylen, but let’s get you home all the same.” She ran her hands around the coat to smooth it out. “I baked cookies earlier and I don’t imagine one or two will spoil your dinner.”

“All right,” Khylen began, as Tessa stood. “What are the secret words?”

She stood there, spine straight, and as though her feet were rooted to the floor. It was something that Neral had insisted upon as soon as the girl started school. There was little reason for her to bother with such a measure, as the school of choice for the grand houses was secure and random people simply didn’t get on the grounds, but Neral had grown up with the stories of long ago when said Houses were more openly feudal and willing to attack rivals physically rather than with rumor and innuendo. A rival House hoping to use Neral against the queen some years before did nothing to help her dismiss the concerns. Mother practiced with daughter frequently. If they didn’t know the right words Khylen was not to go with them, no matter what was said or even who they looked like. If they didn’t have the words, she was to run and yell for help and she had permission to do anything she had to to not go with them. Khylen had liked being part of this secret thing. It was exciting by itself and she liked the power it gave her. This was the first time that circumstances allowed her to use it and it would not go to waste.

In the moment, Cassea’s brows furrowed but she couldn’t manage annoyance. The little one stood there like a proper little soldier, waiting. “We don’t have time for this. Come along now,” she said sternly.

“What are the secret words?” She asked more loudly this time, her right foot taking half a step backward.

Cassea huffed, but she was satisfied in seeing the little one hold her own. “Wildflower.”

Saying nothing, those brown eyes then fixed on Tessa’s emerald green. Tessa simply smiled. “Balcony.”

“Okay then.” Now on to other important matters as she walked between them and the trio headed back to the main entry and onto the grounds. “You said you made cookies?”

“I did,” Tessa affirmed. “Frosted oatmeal.”

“I love those.”

“The world is full of coincidences, dear one.”

“How was your day?” Cassea asked as they walked down the stone path through the meticulously tended grounds. The air began to have more bite, especially at night and it wouldn’t be long now before the leaves started to fall.

“Okay,” she said with a sigh. “I hate math.”

“That’s not true,” Cassea countered, “You do fine with math at home.”

“It’s soooooooooo boring.”

“Boring? It doesn’t seem too hard for you to me. Do you mean that it’s too easy for you?”

“Yes. I always finish early. I ask for harder things, but teacher says I have to stay in time with the class.”

“I see. Well, you should bring it up to your parents and they will take it up with your teachers. If nothing else, I will create harder work for you to do at home in the meantime.”

Khylen rolled her eyes. “Go to school for school and come home and have more school. I’d rather be bored.”

Cassea hid her reaction. She so had her father’s usually humorous penchant for melodrama. She was very much a product of both her parents, from her mother’s thoughtful gaze and sense of right and wrong to her father’s midnight black hair and sense of humor. She generally wasn’t fond of children, as most of them were ill-mannered, and, the higher the House, generally, the more ill-mannered they were because they were allowed to get away with it. But she liked this one. She respected the strength already within her. She was intelligent, funny, and, as Cassea witnessed more than once, kind, even when she didn’t think anyone would be watching.

But it was moments like the one that just passed when she saw in her things that reminded Cassea of herself and she liked to think of herself as having influenced the little one in even a small way. They had passed the inner guards at the gate and the outer, Cassea and Tessa acknowledging them as they walked the street, heading towards home, a castle in its own right that stood second only to the royal House, as a physical manifestation of the ties between the two.

With their closeness, it would not be long before they would be under the gaze of the White Guard dressed in civilian clothes, trained to see threats to castle and queen so the guard proper could act. Just knowing they would be there at all put her at some ease. At almost that moment, two horses cantered down the street, each carrying a soldier of Erette in dress uniform, a mix of gray and black with fringe colored to denote rank. Cassea could see the white and knew they were both privates. They seemed solely focused on their destination until the closest woman caught sight of them out of the corner of her eye. When she did, a firm, “Hold there.” came from her lips as she locked eyes with, not Cassea, she noticed, but Khylen.

The trio stopped and waited for the women to dismount to stand before them. This time, it was the man who spoke, gesturing her chin towards the little one. “This is Khylen Jaye?”

“I am,” she said proudly before either of her caretakers could silence her.

“She has to come with us,” the woman said, concern in every syllable. “You must know by now that the lower markets are burning. The blockades the general has set are near collapse and there’s no way to know how far it will all spread. The general ordered us to take her someplace safe until the situation is resolved.”

“Who are you and who gave you those orders?” Both women shared concern for their own reasons.

“Private Hoben,” the taller woman said, “and Private Kaven.” She did not gesture to Kaven and Kaven offered no response, keeping her eyes on the women and the child. “General Jaye gave the order.”

“To you?” Tessa said, not bothering to hide her incredulity. “Directly?”

“Yes. Yes, directly.”

Tessa and Cassea both knew something was very wrong. Khylen was trusted to Tessa. If something happened that required a special response General Jaye would have sent a messenger. And if Khylen had be moved, she wouldn’t move without Tessa. She decided to put that to the test. Her voice was clipped and tight. “Fine. Let’s go.”

“Not you,” Hoben said, as though she were giving an order. “Our orders are for Khylen Jaye. We cannot be responsible for your safety.”

Tessa placed her hand on Khylen’s chest moving her back ever so slightly as she shifted her body to the right to begin to act as a shield the little one. “You don’t have to be responsible for me. I’m responsible for me and I’m responsible for her. Where she goes I go.”

“That is not necessary and it is not required.” Hoben looked down at the little one and a smile appeared as she extended her hand, “Come, Khylen. Your mother needs you to come with us.”

Cassea knew something was wrong, too, but she imagined that the tension she felt wasn’t for the same reasons that Tessa felt it. Cassea was owned, Deres had allowed her to be herself, and he liked her that way, but she was owned. She was his slavething, so she had some idea what it was like to have a puppet master pull the strings when he chose to. It was something in the way they spoke in a tone that was just a little bit flat. It was the way the women looked at them with just a little bit of the light gone from the eyes that everyone else had and that she sometimes imagined that she lacked. Kaven hadn’t spoken at all, Cassea suspected, because no one had spoken to her. She has a script she’s running in her head. Sometimes she fantasized about him smoothing her mind more, making her more empty, docile, and helplessly obedient like these two. She kept it in the realm of fantasy, but in those fantasies, what was before her was something of how she envisioned she would be.

They were owned. By who or what, she didn’t know, but, as part of a sort of bizarre sisterhood, she could feel it. There were no swords on their backs, but she wasn’t fool enough to think that they weren’t armed. She gave Tessa a sidelong glance and saw in her eyes the same determination that she knew she carried within her. Cassea asked, her voice a perfect example of innocence “What are the secret words?”

Hoben blinked. “What?”

“If the general sent you for her, she gave you the three code words that you would need to give the school and to her in order to take her with you. What are they?”

As Cassea asked, Tessa heard Khylen take a breath as if to say something and she reached to put a hand to her mouth for but a moment. The young lady stiffened at the notion of being silenced, but said nothing when the hand fell away.

Hoben blinked again, and this time it was Kaven who finally spoke. “The violence was spreading quickly and if there are such words she sent us without them in the frenzy. We are soldiers in service of Erette and General Neral Jaye and are acting within that authority” They stepped forward. “The child must come with us.”

“Come, Khylen,” Hoben said again, this time, the smile disappearing and her voice with an edge of authority. “We will make you safe.”

Tessa knew what she had to do. She didn’t know how it would come out, but she had to buy time for Cassea to do something, or, if nothing else, for the little one to have a chance to run. She pushed her sizable chest into Hoben, hoping to push her into the street. Kaven was on her, too, as Hoben gripped Tessa’s forearms and used that as a brace as she drove her own forehead into Tessa’s face.

“Tessa!” Khylen screamed. She reached out, but was swooped up almost at once.

It was a bewildering moment. She cried out from the shock and her vision swam from the sudden pain and the tears reflexively flowed making it that much more disorienting. She heard a yelp that was too high-pitched to have been from her. Khylen. She felt less pressure against her body. One of them was gone, she realized. Was the world spinning or was it just her? Both, her instincts told her. She snorted indelicately, tasting blood, and pushed hard against the body that was now behind her with an arm hooked firmly around her throat, the pressure from which only increased, making drawing the next breath even more of a struggle. That grip loosened for a moment in time with a grunt as the body behind her slammed against the stone wall of one of the buildings.

The thought of Khylen taken was horrid to her. The thought of her hurt made Tessa sick to her stomach. The thought that Tessa might fail both the Houses and both families she claimed, and all while she could still breathe made her angry. She was never an angry spirit. In her worst moments of childhood she was pouty and petulant. She was quiet, and calm, and almost never so much as raised her voice. But she was angry now and it pushed her to action.

Tessa clawed the brooch she wore that her father bought her when she came of age that carried the seal of her House. It was heavy and sturdy and he had joked that it was meant to last a thousand years when she joked that it would weigh her down. It had heft in her hand and she swung her arm to the left and over her shoulder. When the long sliver of metal that anchored the brooch to clothing sank into soft flesh and a cry was heard, it made Tessa’s heart skip a beat in excitement as adrenaline rushed through her veins. The arm around her neck loosened enough for the woman to snarl, and she used the moment to drive the brooch into flesh again and again, left and right and up and down, working for as many fresh wounds as she could make.

She felt a hand grip her wrist and felt a body against her chest. “You cannot do this!” Her voice had no fear. It was still filled with rage and her words came out as a command. “Let me go!”

“It’s all right, Ms. Jovis. It’s all right.” The voice was almost as loud as hers in an effort to break through. Her eyes managed to begin to focus on one of the guards that tended the school gates Kaz? Yes. Kaz was his name. He took the brooch and gave her a reassuring smile. “Are you all right? I just looked your way and then looked back and all of a sudden there was a fight. I’m sorry we couldn’t get here sooner.”

She looked again to her left to see another guard and two male bystanders trying to control and tend to the soldier who flailed against them while trying to aid her. From the glimpses afforded her as they moved, half the woman’s face was awash in blood, collecting in the small pits and grooves of the stone she lay upon. Tessa wiped blood from herself and coughed for enough air as she looked around, then to Kaz before the gravity of events hit her again, “Did you see where Cassea and Khylen went?”

He shook his head again, his hazel eyes sharing some of her worry at the mention of the child, “No. By the time I looked and saw what was going on she had Khylen practically under Cassea’s arm mounting one of the horses.”

It was only then that Tessa noticed that both the mounts were indeed gone.. Goddess protect them. She decided the best thing she could do to help at the moment was find a way to get help for them and a message to General Jaye.

“Stay down. Understand?” Cassea’s body was as draped over her as she could make it and tone made clear that there was only one acceptable answer.

“Yes,” the young voice said. “What’s happening?” The fear in that voice was obvious. Everything had gone crazy all at once and now Cassea’s body was draped over hers as she drove the horse at full gallop down the street, occasionally shouting for people to get out of her way. She peeked around the horse to see the world flying by. “What about Tessa? She needs help.”

“Tessa can take care of herself,” Cassea answered with more faith than she felt, but there was no choice, they both knew it, and Tessa had flung herself at them to buy Cassea time to escape with the young one and she wasn’t going to let the sacrifice be wasted.

“What about mother? Where are we going?”

“Your mother can definitely take care of herself.” The latter was the question. She looked back to see Kaven behind her, the distance between them narrowing slowly. Going it alone unless she had to seemed like a fool’s errand, but where to go was the question. She thought briefly about trying to lose her in the side streets and alleys to see if she could weave her way to her sister’s home nearer the edge of the city. They could hide there and would be safe, but she wasn’t sure she could make it and taking the two of them away from witnesses on the way would probably be unwise.

The barracks weren’t far. She could make that, keep eyes on her doing so, and would surely find help before she chastised herself. Where do you think they probably came from, fool? There was no way for her to know for certain, but that was a good bet. Who knew how many were involved in this. For all you know, everyone there is as consumed as those two. If that were the case, it’d be over for them.

Another option that flitted through her mind was the queen’s castle. The problem there was roughly the same as with heading straight to the barracks. Who knew how far this all went, and, if queen and castle were consumed, there were problems beyond all of them. But a choice had to be made, and she made it hoping that eyes had already seen what had happened or were at least seeing it now. She had no use for the Goddess, but she did take a moment to hope that fate was on their side as she drew in a lung full of air. “Khylen Jaye needs help!”

She repeated it in full voice like a mantra as people on the streets looked on as they passed. She veered left onto another main street with the same cry and command. Some looked out their windows to see what the commotion was and those on the streets parted ways to take themselves out of the way of whatever was happening. Cassea’s throat was already beginning to feel rough, but she kept calling out, stopping only long enough to see how far ahead of their pursuer they were. She feared she would look to her left or right and she would be right there.

The only real option were the mages. Certainly, mages were likely responsible for this in the first place, but almost certainly not the guild that Bryana led. A coup or other machination might be in play amongst them, but, if divided, she had to hope she was spotted by the right ones.

The sixth street they went down was more crowded and she had to slow to make their way around the traffic, using the walks as much as the road to stay ahead, making sure that no one forgot that Khylen Jaye needed help, with Khylen’s own voice addingto the call. Cassea was almost halfway down the street when she caught sight of a wire-thin, bald merchant with a bucket of water in hand who did not look like a man wondering what in the void was going on.

Rather, he met Cassea’s eyes and would not look away. When he knew he had her attention, he still did not break his gaze as he pitched the bucket to his right and she watched the water arc across the street and towards an alley that, on closer inspection, looked like it would barely allow them entry.

She gave him a small nod and hoped that she wasn’t thanking an accessory to her own kidnapping before she veered hard to the right and the horse snorted and slowed to make the turn, and Cassea wasn’t wrong with her first impression. There were only a couple of feet on either side as they squeezed between the buildings slowly and carefully until it opened out into some lots of grass and shops of various types that still looked like they did passable business though they had been supplanted by those on the main streets.

She sped up again as soon as she was able, seeing people scurry out of the street, but paid them no mind because they seemed to go out of their way to avoid taking note of her at all. A man who looked every bit the role of blacksmith stood in front of the open door to his supply shed. They rode in and the powerful body behind them closed the door quickly, leaving himself outside and them in.

“How many?”

“One, so far as I know,” she said as she dismounted and helped Khylen down as well.

The voice that was somewhat higher than she expected it to be given his frame. “Stay here and stay quiet no matter what. I’ll be back.”

She kept What if you don’t come back? to herself, instead choosing a hammer with which to defend them both if it came to that.

For his part, the blacksmith started walking down the empty street towards the alley where those in need had emerged, his bulk moving with surprising speed and grace, his boots clacking on the stone. He expected the unexpected as she and her horse emerged onto the thin grass just off the street. Her eyes scanned quickly and focused on the one man on the conspicuously empty street. “You,” she exclaimed. “Stop!”

He spread his arms to show he was no threat and did as he was told, waiting for her to approach. Hoben looked down on him. “Have you seen a woman and child on horseback? They would have been ahead of me by only moments.”

“As a matter of fact I have,” he said cheerfully.

“Where are they?”

“Oh, I’m afraid I can’t tell you that, as you seem to be up to no good.”

“I am on official business for General Jaye. The streets are on fire and I am to take her daughter to safety.”

He did so even as he invited her to, “Look around you. Whatever might be happening elsewhere has not touched this place. Everyone on this little street is tucked away and minding their own business. I have no doubt that, at least here, the young lady would be safe and secure.”

“Tell me where she is immediately.”

He eyed her carefully, “I admire your focus in this matter. What’s your name, if I may ask?”

“I am Private Hoben, acting on the direct orders of General Jaye. Where is Khylen Jaye? Tell me or face the full force of law.”

He seemed amused. “So far, the full force of law seems to be just you right now, so I believe I’ll take my chances. Tell me something,” he began, with concern, “are you married?”

Hoben blinked. “What?”

“Are you married? It’s a simple enough question.”

“It’s not relevant at all. Where is Khylen Jaye?”

“Do you have brothers and sisters? Do you have children? Or are you just a doting aunt?”

The soldier’s voice was stone. “Where is she?”

He pressed on, his voice calm, though quizzical “What’s your favorite food? Or your least? What’s your favorite play? Or song? Or book?”

Hoben descended from her horse and placed herself before him. “Take me to her. Now.”

“Do you even remember? Is there anything on your mind right now other than what you were told to do? Can you touch anything within yourself other than this? Doesn’t that seem strange to you?”

“I must find Khylen Jaye.” They had to be close by. She wasn’t far enough behind them for them to have just vanished. She would draw close and they would react. Then the girl would be hers.

She moved past him as though he were irrelevant, and he was if he wouldn’t tell her what she needed to know.

Hoben hadn’t quite moved beyond his reach before his arm reached out with the speed of a snake’s strike, his hand curling around the back of her neck. Her eyes bulged in surprise at the suddenness of the attack and that it had happened at all.

“It’s all right, young lady. I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, his stubby fingers drawing patterns on the back of her skull with finesse. “That wouldn’t be right since you’re obviously not yourself.”

The animal part of Hoben wanted to react. It wanted to claw, and fight, and kill. One hand lifted ever so slightly before it fell as though it were anchored to the ground. She stood limp as the spell was written on her body.

“This is just a healing sleep spell,” he said gently. “I doubt it’ll heal you, of course, but it’s a sleep deep enough that you won’t be coming out of it for a good while. Just relax, and breathe, and sleep.

Strength drained from her and her eyelids felt too heavy to lift with both hands once they dropped.

And, as she had already been doing for quite some time now, she obeyed.

She slept.