The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Reality

by asianpersuasion & J. Darksong

Honor

Dizziness... weakness spreading through every part, every limb, every cell of her being. She was paralyzed, unable to move, unable to speak, barely able to draw breath. She’d known instantly when the first spasms hit that she’d been poisoned, known instinctively that it was silver nitrate, deadly to all were creatures. She’d warned Kyle away when he’d reached for her, knowing his secret—had known he was a werewolf from the first moment she’d seen him, from his posture, the way he walked, and the way he moved—and wanted to spare him her fate.

Her first thought was ‘how’... but the answer was obvious. Her spells were still active, meaning no one had managed to bypass or circumvent them to slip the toxic liquid inside the hall without her knowledge. Which meant whoever had done the deed had arrived before the party, and had brought the poison with them before the safeguards were in place. Which meant a member of her own guild had to be responsible!

A soft gasp escaped her lips as she felt a pressure against her chest. Her vision was blurred, but her other senses were in hyperdrive, and a familiar scent of dried leaves and musk with a hint of flowers clued her in to the person above her. “Step aside, step aside! I need to check on our leader!” Dorran Duskrune’s voice resounded over the area, as he knelt beside her, opening the medicine pouch at his side. For a moment, she dared to hope that everything would be okay, that Dorran, her trusted friend and advisor, would know a way to help her. And then he spoke, and his words dashed her fragile hope to dust.

“They’ll never know what really happened to you,” he rasped, his anger filled voice grating in her ear. “I’ll make sure of that. With you gone, the Lynx was once again look to ME for leadership, as it should have from the beginning! I’ve sat in your shadow for years, watching you dance and party and FUCK this once noble guild into the ground, making us the laughing stock of all Axaellel!” She felt a tap at her wrist, as her menu was accessed, her duel window opened. “With you gone, we shall finally reclaim out former greatness! And you, you shameless harlot.. you will receive the fate you deserve!”

Pain. Intense searing pain, in the center of her chest. She was strong, she was fierce, a powerful fighter the equal of any guildmaster. But poisoned, paralyzed, and rendered helpless, the outcome was never in doubt. As her life points fell and her life’s blood drained away, she felt a tingle, a sense of awareness, that a warding spell placed at the edge of her lands had been breached, just as the darkness rose up to greet her...

Patricia Johnson sat up abruptly as feeling and sensation returned to her body. and the pain slowly receded. Heart hammering in her chest, her breathing shallow it took several seconds for her mind to comprehend what was happening, to realize the surroundings she suddenly found herself in.. Slowly her vision cleared and she recognized the flash red coloring her vision. It was alert message from her computer’s network link:

ATTENTION: Character Life function terminated.
**** YOU ARE DEAR!****
Connection to server disconnected.

Patty stared at the message for a long moment, shaking her head, knowing exactly what the message meant but unable to accept it. Franticly, she dialed back in, logging on, hoping against hope, trying to access her character’s data, only to receive the same message again: YOU ARE DEAD. “Nooooo...” she moaned softly, sliding off her headpiece, tossing it aside, allowing the tears to fall. She tried to tell herself that it didn’t matter, that it was just a game... that she hadn’t REALLY lost twelve years of her life, twelve years of blood sweat and tears, a virtual lifetime of memories and adventures and experiences, all in an instant of treachery...

Treachery.

Reaching for her keyboard, Patty logged into her email account, pulling up her contact list. If Honor Crayfellow was truly gone forever, the least she could do would be to let someone know the truth about how she’d met her end. Opening Kyle’s address, she sent him a quick and carefully worded letter, explaining what had happened, who was responsible, and her thoughts as to why. She remembered all too well the feeling of her barrier being pierced at the southern edge of the forests near the caverns. That a group of unknowns had chosen to enter that set of caverns on her guild’s lands just at the moment of her passing was no coincidence. Noting the time, she sent the message, hoping it reached him in time to do some good.

That final task accomplished, Patty lay back on her bed, as the enormity of what she’d loss finally hit her. With a loud cry, she drew herself up into the fetal position, and sobbed.

* * *

Marion glanced up as the sound of someone approaching. On guard for any sign of sentries, he let out a soft sigh of relief as a familiar scantily clad redhead stepped into view. “Ah, good, it’s you,” he said, sliding his blade back into its sheath. “I take it your plan went off without a hitch?”

“But of course,” Vale replied with a giggle. “Did you expect anything less from me?” Sighing softly, she removed the scarlet wig from her head, freeing her natural blonde locks once more, inserting the disguise back into her inventory. “It was ridiculously easy. The fool I used to get me inside had his own agenda, so I actually changed my plans to coincide with his!” She chuckled deviously. “Trust me when I say that Honor Crayfellow will no longer be a problem. In fact the only unexpected development I had was finding your newest ‘obsession” sitting right down next to the target,”

“WHAT?!?” Marion growled, rounding on her. “Shadowchaser was there, and you did nothing?”

“Well, I can’t say I wasn’t tempted,” Vale admitted, reaching up for the tie of her toga at the left shoulder. “I mean he was right there. I actually made to pour the poisoned wine into his goblet, but he refused it. And, well... I would have shattered the crystal decanter over his head and slashed his throat with the pieces, but while satisfying, it wouldn’t have solved the problem and instead caused more complications.” With a pull, she loosened the knot, causing the thin white shift to flutter and slide down her body, pooling around at her feet.

Marion grunted in resignation. Vale was right. Killing Shadowchaser outside of a duel would only be a temporary solution at best. He would simply respawn sometime later, none the worse for wear, with perhaps just a hit to his pride and his popularity. No, he wanted the boy dealt with permanently for the humiliation he’d dealt him. That was why he’d gone to East Greywind and hired a professional to do the deed.

“Hey! Put on some clothes, you shameless slut!” Berena growled, glaring at Vale who merely ignored her, taking her time to peruse her inventory for her usual clothing. “And why did you have to actual change into a physical disguise instead of just using magic to alter your appearance?”

“Because the Guildmaster of the Lynx is not stupid enough to fall for such a thing,” Marion said with a frown. “She may pretend to be a ditzy party girl, but you don’t rise to the status of Guildmaster without having the strength and skills and the brains to utilize them. She’s a master thief; if anyone would have been able to detect a magical disguise, it would have been Honor Crayfellow.” He shrugged. “At any rate, she is out of the way now, and we can proceed.”

“Right,” Vale agreed, slipping back into her normal armor once more. “Now, on to this mystical artifact you’re so eager to lay your hands on.” She sighed heavily, unstrapping Killjoy from her shoulder. “I just hope this trinket it worth all the effort.”

“Oh believe me, my dear,” he said with a grin, as he gestured for his scouts to advance into the cave, “it will be.”

* * *

“Our leader has fallen,” the shaman announced gravely. “Through a treachery most foul, she has been taken from us! Honor Crayfellow is dead... gone, never to return.” A loud cry out outrage spread out among the crowd, but with a wave of the shaman’s hand, they went silent again. “Members, visitors, and friends, we cannot let such a travesty stand! The one responsible for this must be made to pay.” Stepping forward, he turned slowly, pointing his staff at the assembled members of the crowd, only to stop suddenly. “Guards! Seize her!” he yelled, gesturing to a surprised Serena, who merely gaped in shock as a pair of guards grabbed her by the arms, restraining her.

“Wait! What is this?” she protested, even as she was dragged through the crowds. “Why are you arresting me? I’ve done nothing wrong!”

“We shall see,” Jace replied curtly, leading the way forward. “We shall settle this in the Chamber of Justice! If you are truly innocent, then it will be known.”

Kyle watched with mild interest as they all headed down the hallway further into the guild house. The guards were paying him no mind, no longer considering him a suspect. He was basically free to walk away and leave if he so chose. And a part of him considered doing just that, leaving the Lynx to sort out their own problems. True, Honor’s death weighed heavily on his mind... he’d really started to like her. But nothing he could do now would bring her back. Honor Crayfellow, the person he had known, the character, was gone forever. Even if the person behind the avatar eventually returned, it would be as someone else. And... truth be told, he was wary of forming any permanent attachments to other people. He already had one with Anadriel, and their relationship was complicated at best.

Still... I guess I should at least watch the proceedings, he mused, following the crowd down the hallway. If nothing else, I should make sure that girl Serena doesn’t get railroaded. She doesn’t seem like to type to simply PDK someone in cold blood... especially someone that was supposed to be a close friend.

Reaching the portal leading to the chambers, he paused as his menu alerted him. The Chamber of Justice was apparently considered an authorized kill zone, and that entering the room disengaged the automatic safeguards. To enter to room was to risk being called as a witness, or even as a suspect. And if one were found guilty, they could be made to face justice swiftly and decisively. Such areas were rarely used only in authorized guild houses, and allowed only in extreme cases. Still, in a case such as this, where a Guildmaster had been assassinated in her own house, such extreme measures were obviously warranted. After considering for a moment, Kyle closed his menu alert and stepped through.

Already, the “court” had assembled, with the suspect, Serena, shackled and restrained, in the center of a raised dais in the center of the room. Armed Lynx guards flanked her on all sides, ready to act at a moment’s notice. The assembled crowd sat in raised auditorium style seats surrounding the stage in a horseshoe pattern, and several Interwar cameras had been activated as well, transmitting the trial live over the all staring down at the nervous and frightened woman below. The shaman, Dorran Duskrune, was addressing the court as Kyle entered.

“...is most assuredly confirmed that this girl, Serena Wildeclaw, is the one responsible for our leader’s death!” he shouted, brandishing his staff like a spear. “We have determined that Honor was poisoned, and that it was the wine that she drank that killed her. And we have multiple testimonies that confirm the last person to serve her was a redheaded woman—an elven woman, not a Seripin! And you are the only one here who matches that description!“

“But it wasn’t me!” Serena protested, nearly in tears. “I keep telling you! I had nothing to do with this!”

“Liar!” one of the guards snapped, stepping towards the defendant. “We all know it was you! I saw you walking past just after you served the Guildmaster!”

“I’m telling you—it wasn’t me!” Serena pleaded, pulling at her restraints. “Honor was my friend! I would have never done anything to hurt her!”

“Your friend?” the shaman growled, dismissively. “I don’t think so! I think you were jealous of her, merely pretending to be her friend! She made you her second-in-command, her right hand man, an honorary Lynx—but you were never truly one of us. You’re not a true Seripin, you’re a werecreature, a mutant, an abomination!” He shook his head in derision. “You’re little more than a rabid animal. It’s little wonder that you finally turned on the hand that fed you.“

“STOP IT!” Serena growled, her anger and pain reaching its limit, her hair beginning to bristle, her eyes starting to glow. “You’re wrong about me! WRRRRRRONG!” she growled, as her featured roughened, her fingernails sharpening, lengthening into deadly claws. “I’m...not... a... monster!”

“You’re showing yourself to be one!” the Shaman announced haughtily. “Your true self is being revealed. every action only further proves your guilt! You were Honor’s second. But that wasn’t good enough for you. You wanted to be first, the leader, respected and feared by the other guild members. You wanted their respect, and this was the only way you thought you could received it. But you failed!” Taking a moment to compose himself, he turned to face the crowd. “You have all heard my statements. and have heard from the witnesses against this woman. Now it is only fair that someone stand in her defense. Is there anyone among you who would speak on your behalf?“

Silence. No one spoke, or stood, or moved to come forward, even as Serena glanced out among the crowd. They were her clan, her family, her friends. She had worked with them, fought with them, loved and laughed with them all for years. And yet, not a single one came forward in her defense when she truly needed them. She hung her head, closing her eyes in defeat.

“I’ll speak for her,” Kyle said, stepping forward, approaching the dais.

* * *

“Damn,” Marion grunted, wiping at the powdered soot caked up against his armor, shaking his head ruefully at the softly glowing flame icon that signified his now deceased minion. Indeed, the cavern was fairly littered with flame icons, members of his scouting party that had met their unfortunate ‘end’ from the various traps spread throughout the dungeon. Sighing heavily, he continued on, easily bypassing the hidden fire spell trap his compatriot had set off.

“Well, at least they were good for something,” Barena replied lightly, following Marion’s footsteps exactly, careful not to trigger any of the traps in her passing. “I questioned why you would bring along a group of weaklings into a dungeon such as this, but now I see your reasoning. Better to let the expendable ones lead the way, and clear the way for us.”

“Something like that,” Marion murmured, scowling, thinking furiously to himself. In truth, the men he’d brought along had been specifically for that purpose—cannon fodder, to find and mark all the traps guarding the treasure of these caverns—but Barena was mistaken about him bringing along a bunch of weaklings. Yes, his men were significantly weaker then he and his lieutenants, but the members he had chosen were among the best of his guild, and of relatively high levels. What disturbed him was the ease of which the various traps had taken out his men. Andronis, the man he’d just lost to the fire trap, was a level sixty-two Paladin, not exactly a juggernaut per se, but with enough life points to hold his own against some of the most powerful damage dealers in the game.

And yet that flame trap incinerated him in a matter of seconds, he mused darkly, as he and his ever shrinking band of men made their way around the next curve. To do that much damage, that quickly, these must be epic level traps, he realized suddenly, with a shudder. Something like that would even take ME out with one hit.

Reaching a long dark foreboding cavern branching off into three directions. Sighing inwardly, he gestured to his three last remaining scouts. “Okay you two, check the side tunnels. Jentry, check the one straight ahead. And be careful goddammit! I promised the lot of you a lion’s share of the treasure and experience for this quest, but if we all get taken out before we reach the goal then this whole entire trip was for nothing!” Nodding in agreement, the scouts headed out along their assigned paths, all mindful of the nature of the dangers they were facing. Nevertheless, within seconds of disappearing around the corners, screams erupted from both side tunnels followed by a loud rumbling noise. Moments later, the dimness of the cave illuminated slightly from the light of two more flame respawn tokens.

“Well, you can’t say you didn’t warn them,” Vale replied with a laugh.“Dumbasses.”

“Fuckin’ useless, you mean,” Barena added, cracking her knuckles, loosening up. “Looks like it’ll just be us from here on out—”

“I found it!” Jentry suddenly called up from the cave straight ahead of them. “The treasure! It’s in here! Come, quick!” Nodding to each other, the leaders of the Viridian Sun rushed forward. Just past the tunnel the next chamber expanded into a massive cavern, at the center of which sat a huge mound of gold and silver coins, various jewels and precious stones, and several large heavy wooden and metal chests, one of which Jentry was in the process of jimmying open. What captured Marion’s eye, however, was the large obsidian throne on the far side of the cave, seemingly carved out of the wall itself. Making his way over, he paused for a moment, considering, and then sat down on the throne. Taking a deep breath, he spoke the words he’d been waiting for more than two years to say.

“Evnek wer houpetor rasvim!” he commanded, hoping he got the pronunciation correct. Considering the nature of the traps they’d bypassed, he wouldn’t be surprised to find that the former owner of this cavern had left behind one final trap. As a bright light appeared before the throne, hovering just above his face, he held his breath, wondering if he’d just brought them their success or their ruin. And then... the glow faded, and an ornate, jewel encrusted armband appeared, falling lightly into his outstretched hands.

“YES!” Marion cried aloud, laughing in amazement and glee. “YES! I finally have it!” Taking the artifact and slipping it carefully into his belt pouch, he made his way back towards the rest of his party, still scooping up and loading as much money as they could carry into their knapsacks. “All right. I have what we came for,” he announced. “Take whatever you can carry, and leave the rest. We’re leaving here now. If everything has gone according to plan, I have we have a new houseguest waiting back to home to greet.”

* * *

“You?” the shaman replied with a scowl, glaring at Kyle as if he were a bug discovered in his food tray. “You wish to speak about the accused? I thought you were a stranger here? By your own words, you only met the Lynx guild for the first time two days ago when you saved everyone from that ambush. What makes you an authority to speak on anything that has occurred here—“

“I never claimed to be an authority,” Kyle countered, his irritation beginning to show. “I merely said I would speak for the accused, since none of her sc-called friends could be bothered to do so.” He turned to glare out at the audience. “I’m not a Lynx member, or a Seripin. I don’t belong to a guild at all. I’m something of a loner. and outsider, so yes, I can empathize with Serena here, not one of you, but trying to be. I know what it’s like to give your all to a cause, and still not be accepted just because you’re different from everyone else.” He sighed softly, taking a steadying breath. His own were blood was running hot, and the last thing he needed was to go full wolf in the middle of court.

“Today was the first time I walked to Serena,” he continued after a moment. “I’m not ‘authority’, but I am a fairly good judge of character. The woman that greeted me at the door a few hours ago was kind, gentle and caring, a far cry from the murderess you are making her out to be—”

“How dare you!” the shaman barked. as several other voices called out as well. “I am not making her out to be anything other than what she is! She poisoned our leader, and would have poisoned you as well, had you drank from your cup that last time...” he frowned, his eyes narrowing. “Or... perhaps maybe the reason you didn’t drink was that you KNEW about the silver nitrate!” He approached Kyle, pointing the staff at him with menace. Admit it! That’s the reason you’re defending her now! You and she were working together!”

Kyle blinked, then scowled, his enhanced senses picking up a telltale sign, the last piece of the puzzle. “Now you’re accusing me of being part of the plot again, even though you were satisfied a moment ago that I wasn’t involved. Again, I’ll mention that I had no reason to kill Honor. I have no motive. Further, I had no way of killing—no means to do so. And, if for some unknown reason Serena had slipped me poison to put in Honor’s drink, I simply had no opportunity to do so!” He smirked slightly. “Honor drank like a wish. She drained her glass nearly as soon as it was filled. and there was not a moment during the time I was with her that her goblet was out of her possession. Which, of course, you would know, as you were watching us so intently.”

The shaman blinked in surprise at the insinuation. “Y-yes, well, er, um,” he stammered momentarily, “that is... you are correct,” he grudgingly admitted. “She did have control of the goblet the entire time. But still—”

“Ah, but there’s more,” Kyle replied, continuing on. “Let’s talk about the murder itself. I think we can all agree that Miss Crayfellow was poisoned. I’m no expert with Seripin physiology, but most poisons that I have heard of in the reality take time to work. And nice work, by the way, revealing that the poison that killed her was silver nitrate, poisonous to Seripins, and DEADLY to were creatures—which Serena is. But I find it strange that a were would knowingly carry around and use something so extremely dangerous to themselves. One little drop, one spill, and she would end up meeting the same fate as the one she was attempting to kill.” He shrugged. “That just doesn’t make any sense.“

The crowd’s murmuring was louder now, as Kyle’s arguments were starting to sway them. The shaman growled in his frustration. The so-called hero was starting to live up to his name, unraveling his carefully woven plot. “Who can say what goes on in the mind of a killer?” he rasped loudly, trying to regain control of the proceedings. “Perhaps she used it for precisely that reason—because no one would believe she would?”

“No one but you, shaman,” Kyle pointed out, again stealing his thunder. “Not only did you figure out what she was poisoned with, you also fingered her as the one behind the plot. Everyone was there, everyone watching in plain sight... but only YOU put the clues together.” Kyle stared at him for a long moment, eye to eye, willing the other man to blink first. “So tell me then, shaman... how did Honor die?”

The man blinked. “Wh... what do you mean? Are you crazy? Poison! She was poisoned—”

“WRONG” Kyle snarled, grabbing the old man by the neck. “Honor Crayfellow was slain outright, but not by poison! She was stabbed through the heart—by you!”

The crowd went wild with this new revelation, and the guards had to demand quiet for several seconds. before they quieted down. “Th.. that’s preposterous!” Dorran protested, jerking free from Kyle’s grasp. “I was trying to save her life! I was... trying to give her an antidote! You all saw me! Everyone saw!”

“No, everyone saw her fall, then saw you rush to her side.” Kyle countered. “Then everyone was more concerned about whether or not I was involved to notice what you were doing. But you’re still overlooking how quickly she died. From the minute she fell to moment her death icon appeared was what? Four minutes? Five tops? There’s no way the Guildmaster of the Lynx would have succumbed to poison so easily. The girl had an iron constitution. Think about it how she obtained her primary weapon, the Sphere of Itastazak, from the clam of dwarves who forged it? She told me the story earlier tonight, how she won it in a drinking contest by drinking all ten of them under the table?” He shook his head in remembrance. “Any woman that could out-drink ten dwarves in one sitting wouldn’t succumb to liquid cyanide in a mere five minutes!”

The murmurs of the crowd started again, reminded of Honor’s legendary fortitude for drinking. “What was it that you said a moment ago?” Kyle asked aloud. “You were trying to ‘help’ Honor? You were giving her an antidote? Then I guess we’re lucky that of all the people here, you alone decided to bring your medicine bag filled with alchemical potions and serums to a festive celebration.” He glanced over at the guard leader. “Lieutenant, perhaps you should check his belt pouch?”

Dorran went pale as the tall dark haired Seripin approached him. “No, wait, I—” he protested, taking a step back only to freeze as two more guards came up behind him, swords drawn. “No, please, you don’t understand,” he begged weakly, as Jace ripped open his revealing several bunches of dried herbs, half empty vials of liquid.... and a long thin stiletto blade, stained red with blood.

The crowd erupted into chaos as the old man was dragged, kicking and screaming, to the raised dais, and shackled into place, even as Serena was released. “It’s not my fault!” he screamed over the noise of the crowd. “It was Vale! Vale Stormsinger! She made me do it! She threatened me!” His eyes went wide as the guards prepared to dispense justice. “It’s Vale you want, not me!” he pleaded frantically. “She’s the one who poisoned Honor! I was just her dupe! It was her... her... heeeerrrrr!”

Jace turned away to face Kyle, who was helping Serena back to her feet. “Thank you, Kyle Shadowchaser. Thank you for helping to bring the true killed to justice. But tell me... how were you so sure it was the shaman?”

“It was a couple of things,” Kyle admitted. “Little things he said and did. I’m a pretty good judge of character and that guy just rubbed me the wrong way. But mostly, it was this,” he said, holding up the shaman’s staff to Jace’s nose. “Do you smell anything unusual?”

The lieutenant sniffed, frowning. “Well, the shaman was always messing with odds and ends, herbs and powders and such, so I don’t really see—”

“Do you smell anything,.. flowery?” Kyle pressed.

Jace sniffed again, then nodded. “Hmm... now that you mention it, yes. I smell it.. a pretty strong scent of... lavender mixed with lilacs.”

“Exactly. I smelled the same thing earlier tonight,” Kyle answered. “The serving girl that served the poisoned wine practically reeked of it... probably her perfume. The shaman having that scent clinging to him told me that he had interacted intimately with the poisoner. And I think you can notice that Serena, the one everyone suspected, has no trace of the scent whatsoever.” He faced her, giving her a small smile. “I knew she was innocent before; the lack of smell just proved it.”

* * *

Nora groaned softly, opening her eyes slowly. Her head ached, and her mouth felt dry. She reached up to caress her aching head only to find that her hands had been tied. Snapping awake. she cried out, struggling to get free, finding herself lying on a pile of old hay in what appeared to be an old dank dark dungeon. Panic gripped her, and she wondered briefly where her two protectors were, until she remembered just how she had come to be in this dungeon in the first place.

Jendetta and Alimor had betrayed her. She’d just finished her ‘epic battle’ with a pair of Bunnicore, and had turned, jubilant, to tell her friends, only to find them standing there, stone faced, and mute, as a thin, pale, weasel-faced man stepped forward from the brush. At his command, Jen and Ali had grabbed hold of her, restraining her, holding her helpless as he approached, nonchalantly, an evil grin on his face. They’d held her dispassionately as she struggled, screamed and pleased for help, even as he raised a hand to her face, and spoke a word that sounded like gibberish—vrdi!—and suddenly, she was falling headlong into a deep dark slumber only to awaken just now.

Jen. Ali. I don’t blame you. I really don’t, she thought sadly as she struggled to sit up with her limbs so tightly restrained. After having witnessed the Viridian Suns wielding their strange mind-magic, and having experienced it herself, she couldn’t fault her friends who had undoubtedly been likewise ensnared. Despite her own terrifying situation—and honestly, she was more than a little frightened—she was more concerned about her two companions. Marion was known to be as ruthless as he was cunning. Having gotten what he needed from his two pawns, it was completely in his character to dispose of them, to kill them off privately, so no one would know about what they’d done and have no direct links back to him.

No. Stop thinking like that, she chided herself. It’s too soon to start thinking negatively. Ali and Jen are both fine... just fine. And when this is all over... when I escape... well, when Dri and the Order rescues me, we’ll all talk about this and hug and forgive each other. It’ll be fine... really. It will be just fine. I just have to hang in there...

The sounds of booted footsteps approaching her door brought her back to the urgency of her situation. Fighting the panic, she closed her eyes, trying to think of a spell she could use, something she could cast that might help her break free. In her frantic state however, she couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t think of anything that could help her, and all too soon the door made a loud metallic click and slid open.

“Welcome to my humble abode, Nora Snowfallen,” Marion said, smirking wickedly, his eyes twinkling with amusement in the dim torchlight. “So glad you could visit.”

“Not as if you gave me a choice,” she muttered softly. glancing away.

“True, true,” Marion continued, nonplussed, “but when you didn’t accept my previous invitation, I was forced to improvise. So, my dear... is there anything I can get you? A drink perhaps? Something to eat?”

“I don’t suppose you’d give me the key to these shackles and a fast horse ride back to the Sylvan Order lands?” she asked, scowling.

“No. I don’t suppose I would,” Marion replied with a shake of his head. “Now then... Enough small talk. I suppose you’re wondering why I had you brought here—”

“You want me to join your side and serve as your personal healer,” she said, finally looking at him, defiant even as her lip trembled. “You plan to use your mind magic on me to make me follow orders, since you know I’d never obey you otherwise.”

Marion blinked, then frowned slightly, crossing his arms. “Clever girl. And here I thought I’d have to take the time to explain to you what was about to happen, and convince you of how serious the situation was. But, yes. You are correct. The Obelisk Cup is fast approaching, and my chance to rise up the ranks and dethrone the Pantheon is fast approaching. To do so, I need an edge, something to set me apart from all the other players, something to help me carve through the competition. The first part of that plan was you, Nora. With a competent and battle ready healer at my side, to support and heal me I’ll be practically invincible.”

“Well the jokes on you,” Nora spat back, bravely, “’cause I’m anything BUT battle ready and competent! I’m a beginner, still learning the basics. I’m of no use to you.” She glanced away once more, only to gasp as Marion, clenching her chin tightly in his grasp, turned her head back towards his once more.

“Oh, my dear Lady Snowfallen,” he rasped, “you don’t give yourself enough credit. You are much more important to me that you realize. Besides which, I have ways of preparing you for the task at hand.” He finally released her, and she drew back, pulling her legs up close to her chin. “But, as I said, you are just half of the equation.” Reaching into the pouch at his side, he withdrew a golden armband littered with encrusted rubies, diamonds and emeralds. “Hidden away within the wide world of Axeaell are seven ancient relics, seven powerful items each said to have once been possessed by the Ancient dragon gods themselves! Each of these relics grant the holder a special boon, an ability that surpasses even the most elite players of this world!“

He held the armband up for her to see, and despite herself, Nora cooed at its opulent brilliance, as it sparkled in the flickering torchlight, drawing her eyes like a magnet. “My chosen class is Bastard Knight,” he said softly, smirking as he slid the relic onto his wrist. “I do a lot of damage, and I have a lot of health. I can definitely dish out as well as take a beating. My biggest weakness, however, is my speed.” He drew the massive warhammer from his back, swinging it a few times before sliding it back into its sheath.

“This new little trinket gives me the power to overcome that little problem. Thanks to this, in battle I can now strike faster than the wind!” He chuckled darkly. “I’d like to see that upstart Shadowchaser dodge and dance around my attacks now! And there are still six other relics of power out there. Once I find them all, I will be a virtual god among men in this world. And with you at my side, Nora, I truly will be invincible!”

“I won’t help you!” Nora cried, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth. It was a question of willpower. Mind over matter. If she just focused, just concentrated on not submitting to his evil magic—

“Vdri vur oontanx plythu,” Marion intoned, as the armband around his wrist began to glow. A soft gasp escaped Nora’s lips as her eyes fluttered then shut, her head slumping forward. Marion chuckled inwardly. He had wondered is having a treasure of one of the dragon gods would affect the potency of his mind magic, and apparently it had. This also aided in his plans for conquest; currently, the words of the Dragon tongue only affected those of the fairer sex. He believed, however, that with sufficient power at his disposal, he would be able to bend the wills of anyone and everyone, male and female alike. It was just a matter of time.

Turning back to the matter at hand, he held his banded arm aloft once more. “Si mi dout pliso,” he stated with authority, as the young healer’s eyes opened once more, now glowing lightly with a soft golden glow.

Nora nodded once, before bowing low to the ground, her head pressing against the hard cold stone. “You are my Master,” she repeated back, as the words etched themselves deep into the recesses of her mind..“I am your humble obedient slave. I live to serve you. I will obey.”

Marion laughed menacingly, as he pulled the key from his bed, unshackling the girl. “Yes, indeed, my little slave. You shall indeed.”