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Her Spirit Broken

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Adagiodajing

_ _

Lillia hunkered down in the cargo hold of a boat that she thought was transporting mining products to a far off land in great need of it. The fae doe had felt it from some distance away, all the way back at the Mother Tree, from which the buds unleashed power through the absorption of the sweetest of dreams. The dreams had slunk through, calling her, though they were not the dreams that Lillia was used to feeding and sustaining, oh no. No... Those were dark dreams, insidious dreams, the sort of nightmares that sank their claws into a creature and did not release them from the gnashing grasp of their teeth.

There was no escaping those nightmares.

She tried to breathe slowly and evenly, her body that of a deer with thicker, fluffier fur, though it was what gave her body a little more protection than otherwise expected. Her tail was thick and full and could lift to show a flash of the cream underside in warning to others, though there was no one there with her, not anymore. Her torso was that of a human or an elf, though she was irreversibly fae, a soft delicate face with defined features branding her as a being who was entirely different to any other. She wore nothing bar what protected her modesty, the bodice of woven leaves around her chest reminding her of the Mother Tree from where she had come from, though that was from another time compared to where she was going.

The nightmares snarled, weaving and winding around her, daring her to challenge them. Turn back, they said, for that was all they wanted of her. They didn't want a fae there, someone who could challenge them, even if she was a lesser one of her kind, one who was still coming into her true power.

Lillia trembled. Oh, but the nightmares... She could not forget the nightmares that howled from Bilgewater.

They floated to her down the sea of Ionia, the fae doe hunkering down, clutching her bough. It held more power than she had any right to wield, her deer-like ears slanting back softly, though she could not lose her faith right there and then, not when she had so much to give the world.

That was why she had travelled so far, nearing Bilgewater, crew members shouting and calling on the decks above where she was tucked away in the cargo hold. The boxes and crates and barrels had jostled her through the long, uncomfortable voyage and her stomach yawned with hunger. She would need to replenish her sack of supplies soon but, first, she had to dock where the sailboat came to an end.

What boat had she boarded? Oh, Lillia had not cared to know, as long as it was going in the direction that she needed it to. She breathed as slowly and as evenly as she could, staying the course even as the ship bumped into dock, screams and shattering cries emanating from all around. If she hadn't heard the tales of Bilgewater and Harrowing, maybe she would never have followed the nightmares in the first place, but she had to try, had to go, had to do what she could as a fae from the Mother Tree, feeding sweetness back to the buds that could only bloom with the kindest and warmest of dreams.

Her fingers tightened around the Dream-Laden Bough. There was no place for a fae where there was no delight to be had and it was her duty to help those that were suffering from the Shadow Isles and all the misery that they had brought into the world.

It is time for action...

_ _

Her stomach churned but there was no time for her to take nerves in hands, a strange fae doe amongst the humans. Would she be accepted? Would she be shunned? She shook her head, trying to stand, though the wooden boards under her cloven hooves were still shaky. The bud on her bough glowed faintly as she drifted into an uneasy slumber, resolving herself to wait until the rest of the crew had disembarked before taking the plunge herself. Only time would tell whether she would successfully bring light back to the lives of Bilgewater and more, stealing them away from the ruling force of sadness. She could not do that trembling with nerves.

Sleep would help that.

*

Silence greeted her as she sat up, ears lifting to catch the smallest of noises. It was quiet, or as quiet as she could expect the vessel to be after all the activity that had brought it to life in the tumultuous, rocking voyage. A rat scratching the boards. The waves lightly lapping the hull as it rocked and rocked, though there was no one there that it needed to soothe back to sleep.

It was time.

She advanced up the ramps and staircases that were not designed for a creature like her, the little deer scampering and flitting around like a ghost. Back to the deck and a blast of fresh air finally lifted the loose waves of her purple and blue hair from the back of her neck, hanging a little more limply than it did when she was well-rested. But that would come in time, the magic in her begging to be released through the power of her bough, the dreams there, beckoning her down. Her stamen twitched, protruding lightly through her hair, though they were difficult to see at times.

"What is that - a deer?"

Others saw her but she had no time to tell them who she was and why she was there as she gathered her resolve and leapt from the deck. There was a ramp down to the jetty but it was not for her, muscles bunching and stretching to fling her into the air, free from the grasp and pull of the boat. Boats were not for fae: they needed to run and to jump, to move as their bodies were designed to!

She exhaled, finally taking a full lungful of air for the first time in what seemed like decades. The scent of rotting fish and new gold didn't help her stomach any more as it leapt and roiled, the town built around the port, houses on stilts out over the water as if they were a part of it themselves. Further inland, away from the port as she stretched out her legs, were dirt roads and cobbled streets, though the town would always retain something of an air of being constantly in progress, always unfinished. It was a strange sort of civilization to look down on as she stepped hesitantly down the jetty, water swirling beneath as if she was about to be plunged into it at a moment's notice. The world held a greenish-blue tinge to it, flames snuffed out, as if she had stepped into a nightmare itself, the dream itself holding its breath.

But that was just her overactive imagination, she told herself. Things like that could not happen in the real world, the world outside dream-walking and embracing the nuances of such things. It was the time in the hold that had turned her mind in such a way, she was sure of it. Time had a funny way of passing when one was trapped under the deck of a ship, even if it was under her own will.

Yet all was not to be soft and peaceful for any span of time as a lonely wind blew in a yin that she had never experienced before. The darkness came, hissing and swirling, and yet there was no sound to it even as her ears twitched and flicked back and forth. Her body thought there was something there even if her mind did not see anything, nothing tangible, nothing that she could grasp with her own two hands.

And then she saw what she should have first paid heed to on setting foot in the town, her hooves moving of their own accord, one after the other.

Every house closed up against an otherworldly force, tightly boarded. Whether there were families in there that had hunkered down against the true evil or had left instead for, hopefully, a better land remained to be seen. And Lillia could not see so very much of the world that she knew and remembered at all.

The wind howled, swirling and raging, bringing along with it the charm of evil, a kiss that no lover wanted to taste. It came for her, sweeping around, though it was there, bringing the kiss of death back to life.

Lillia reeled, the fae doe scrambling as her hooves skittered, debris flying as she stumbled over the boards to solid ground, in the town itself. Yet there was no creature in the world who could have truly stood fast against such spirits of the dead as proved to be the cause of the nightmares that she had sought to send back. She gasped but there was no air for her lungs as beasts and demons of the underworld walked again, their essence whispering at the edges, not bearing any true form for the mortal realm where Lillia abided.

No...

_ _

But there was no denying it, their gaping, yawning mouths, how they streamed between the closed up houses, how they flooded in through the Black Mists, a roaring swathe that could not be denied. That the houses were occupied was swiftly made obvious as they streamed in through the tiniest cracks and gaps that not even Lillia had known existed into those places, screams rising, blood-curdling and ripping through her very soul.

She clung to her bough, trembling, wanting to move but rooted in place, the stink of death on the air. A place that had, a moment ago, been so peaceful, had been shattered in nothing more than a single moment, the cries and the wails cutting her to her quick.

She had to move, had to do something - that was what she was there to do! Lillia shook, her chin tipping up to where the guards higher up, a hill rising forebodingly over Bilgewater as if to protect it, stood. They were no better protection than the mountains that had stood watch over the port for so many years, beasts running on all four legs like her, but massive, hunkering, slavering louts that sought only the snap of human flesh. The guards were tossed into the air even as they levelled spears and swords, broken and beaten, their screams swiftly swallowed up by the ravenous maws of creatures that should never have existed. For the dead knew no bounds when they had already been called back to the mortal realm to wreak terror.

BOOM!

_ _

The ground shook under her as Lillia staggered, her bough levelled as if that would do anything, truly, to help her balance. Yet she had to do so, had to try, lips parted, heart hammering. Her lungs tightened, struggling and pulsing for breath that would not come, but she still had to sink back onto her haunches and hurl her whole body into motion with the greatest force of will that she had ever had to call on her body to exert.

Bodies were hurled from houses, black tentacles snatching off boards and demanding entry. A mother clutching a small child was flung forth, never to be seen again, though Lillia could only hope in the moment, rather than sending up a prayer, that her end was a swift one. A human male crawled across the street and she whimpered as she leapt over him, knowing that he was already lost to the world, even if he had not yet taken his last breath. She couldn't do anything for him and it hurt her to the point that she wondered if she had been struck or stabbed, the pain in her chest and curling through her gut was that great.

Everywhere she looked, galloping flat out with her bough glowing, levelled and ready, there were monsters of the underworld. Some had vicious claws for stabbing and there was no human body before her that did not stop moving after a few well-timed stabs, ripping through spinal cords as if they were nothing at all. The reek of death fell heavy on air that was no longer fit for breathing and yet the deer's lungs needed it so very desperately, eyes wide and wild, nostrils flared as she sucked in scents that no one should have ever have had to.

The Harrowing had come. And it was worse than one little fae could have ever imagined.

So much death... So much fear... It was no wonder that the dreams and nightmares had reached her at the Mother Tree, her hooves faltering as she skidded on something wet and slippery, not wanting to think too much about what she had almost stumbled on. Countless dead spirits swept in to replace any that had exhausted themselves and she ducked to avoid a man tumbling from a rooftop, a blistering, oozing wound sliced across what may have once been a handsome face.

Run, she had to run, had to find a way, had to do something, anything, something to stop them. She was only one but they had said that she was strong and strong she must be, the bough in her hands, the Dream Blossom Censer that was her only hope against the Harrowing. She let out a cry that was less of a battle-cry and more of a squeal of fear, kicking back onto her hind hooves to strike at the air.

"Be gone!" She cried, her voice thin and weak in a world that would gulp her down whole and spit out the bones. "For you, spirits, have no place here! Be gone, be gone!"

Stamping the ground, she struck, the Dream Blossom Censer glowing, spitting rose petals, swirling around her as if in a storm of fallen blossoms. Yet they were all created by the power of the bough that she wielded, dream dust called to it, spluttering and growing in force and power.

Lunging and whirling, she struck, fighting back the Black Mists as much as she was individual opponents, for her presence had indeed been made known to them too. The fae doe screamed and reared and bucked and twisted, avoiding her enemies with the agility that had been blessed to her kind, knowing nothing else but evasion as she forced her body to the limit. The dust scattered in the petals, slicing into the mists, how it swirled and ebbed with a life-force of the underworld, all on its own, yet the raging monsters with drooling jaws and eyes sunken deep into their skulls were not so easy to force back. Those were the stronger ones and anger filled her, giving her strength, the screams of those that she sought to protect driving her on. She had to find the strength to be there for them, to do all that she came there to do, hooves pounding the dirt road, striking and sweeping, the Dream Blossom Censer and the Dream Dust fizzling into them.

It had little effect, the monsters advancing, greed in their eyes. Her Dream Dust swept towards the mouth and source of the Black Mists themselves and yet was swallowed up, a screaming spark doused in but a moment, snuffed out as if it had never existed. She looked on in horror as the dark swathes of pulsating mists rose to the height of a mountain, a towering wall that she could not hope to break through, turning on her heel with her under-tail raised in fear.

She had been a fool to assume that she could have done anything. Her stomach sank, stone-cold and dropping into her hooves, though Lillia's lips were clamped resolutely shut against any whimpers. Not even in retreat would she dare show weakness against the Harrowing, not when so many had more to cry for than her. She would come back again, stronger and with more at her back, carrying out the quest that had to be what she needed to do, what was her entire life's purpose in being there.

Up the mountains, though the guards of the port town had not fared well either: it was her only means of escape unless she wanted to sail a ship herself. The Black Mists would be able to follow her over the water anyway, she was sure of it, the fae striving with every last ounce of strength in her body not to look at the dead bodies littering her path. It was like leaping and twisting over old, gnarled roots and fallen trees in the forest, though she had known their lives and that they had come to a gentle and timely end where their life forces had returned to the underbelly of the forest itself.

Humans were not like that, their lives stark and howling, the essence of them pouring bewildered around their dead bodies. They knew not what had happened to them and, not even able to see their spirits, only feel their pain, Lillia could not even explain it to them. It was then and only then that a sob ripped from her throat, which tightened as if an invisible claw was locked around it.

She had failed. Now, all she could do was escape.

There were others along with her too and she called them to join her, hustling them along, feeding them a little of her Dream Dust to lift them up and along.

"Come!" She cried. "Flee, run! They are coming!"

Waving her bough wildly, she gulped and hacked for breath, something leaping in her chest, more flustered than in control of anything as a leader should have been. The mountain path was narrower and rockier than it should have been, cliffs and hidden ledges offering hiding places for monsters of the night, though Lillia had not the experience of such a land to know what could have been lying in wait for her. The spirits of the Harrowing, after all, were a fresh brand of a nightmare that not even a Dream-laded bough could sweep back to the darkness.

Alas, Lillia's cloven hooves, as swift and as agile as they were, could not lead her through the body of the mists. Maybe they sensed that she was a more worthwhile prey than the humans that they had cast aside, letting the survivors flee higher up while the Black Mists swirled and rose around Lillia.

The deer-taur screamed and tried her best to escape, but a scree of loose pebbles and dirt was too soft for her to clamber up as she tried to find freedom once more. Something in the mists rumbled a laugh but she did not turn to look, hurling her body into another path, smoke clawing at her nostrils. An unpleasant, acrid aroma, it pushed into her lungs and drove her to cough, chest convulsing and head ducking, striving to breathe with every last drop of energy she could call back to her soul.

Yet it was not that easy - it would never be that easy, not against the Harrowing. Some of the spirits toyed with her, appearing in her path, moving through the mist that was everywhere, an all-being spirit in itself that controlled everything it touched. She darted and dived out of the way, an old stag with broken teeth laughing at her, rearing and stomping, chasing her on, herding her to the spot that they wanted her to be. She may as well have been a fish being chased into a net, the catch of the day, for all the control she had over herself and her own direction, flinging her bruised, aching body on with all the energy she felt that she had left in her soul.

In the end, a towering wall blocked her path, the spirits closing in, step by step. As much as she darted back and forth along what had to be some kind of defensive measure for Bilgewater, there was nowhere left for her to go, the leader of the Black Mists, at least in that Harrowing, stepping forth to inspect what his fallen spirits had trapped in their nets for him.

Hecarim. Even she knew his name as she towered, his helm making it so that no one could see his true face and features, whether he was of the cervine viability like her or a human in appearance. No one knew and Hecarim would see to it too that he would never know, rumbling a laugh that had her quailing, hiding behind her bough as if that had any force or power against the might of one such as him. She may as well have been wielding a twig for all the good it would do her there.

"Little fawn... You should never have come here."

The giant stag-creature, his body that of a centaur-type, just like her, loomed, dwarfing her completely. Surrounded by his spirits, he was invincible, though the blue flames leaping from his armoured hide, though they gave off no heat at all. That was not something that was needed in the underworld, after all, not as he languished in the suffering of the human souls swallowed up by the Black Mists, lending them more and more power.

The cliff was not far and she briefly wondered if she should hurl herself off, follow the wall until she came to the end and plunge into the water below, for the town and the surrounding hills were still wrapped up in the water. There was no escaping it and, for once, she longed to plunge into its icy embrace, to end it all, to not feel the horror of his cold, dead eyes boring into her soul.

Pawing at the ground, the taur that was Hecarim snorted and lifted his weapon high, the gnarled mess of twisted metal more fearsome than her puny bough.

She was going to die there, she was sure of it, his spear angled towards her, taking his time. He had no reason to rush, after all, when he already had her trapped.

She was tiny and growing smaller, hiding in herself, hunkering down, curling up into a tight little ball that still could not be missed. Yet Lillia had to try, had to do something, raising her Dream-Laden Bough with trembling hands to release Dream Dust once again. Of course, the spirits did not even allow it to reach Hecarim, screaming and racing in to gulp it all down into deathly maws in a flash, the dust that held such power vanishing without a trace.

"No... N-nooo..."

She howled, tears streaming down her face, screaming, crying, everything at once. She was aware that she was flailing, trapped and yet her body feeling like it had to do _something_even then, reacting without conscious thought. The Dream-Laded Bough clattered off his armour and she was no more a threat to him than a gnat was to her, desperation tightening its claws around her heart.

She thought she knew what despair was, having seen into the nightmares of humans. Yet they were nothing when they were put up against her legs trembling, her bowels striving to release, humiliation coursing through her in turn with fear as she realised with a shock that jolted her body that she was wetting herself. Wetting herself in fear against the one true embodiment of despair, the lost hope of so many souls.

Hecarim lifted his helmed head high, the gaps where his eyes should have shown swallowed up in flickering, dancing blue flames, though there was nothing merry about them. There would never be anything at all joyous for her as she tried not to sit in her urine, though her inner thighs were stained with it, unable to help releasing her fear in such a way.

"Weak creature..." He hissed, his voice rasping with so many lost souls. "You will be used for the Shadow Isles still..."

He raised his forelegs as if to strike her down where she cowered but the killing blow never came. Instead, he only struck her side, knocking her away, and it was fear that dragged her down into the abyss. Unconsciousness claimed her.

Sometimes that was better than her waking reality.

The beast of Hecarim shoved her onto her back, inspecting her closely, though there would be more time soon to see what her body could offer him and those in his charge, hauling her up by her hair. She dangled there like a limp rag doll before he tossed her over his back like a kill to be proud of, something to be boasted about, and considered what he had found. That strange magic of hers... Not strong, that much was true, not when he had so much at his disposal already, but something that could be useful to spread the Shadow Isles further and further.

It would need to be transformed first but, until then, the Black Mists would lead him back to the Shadow Isles.

Hecarim had a new fawn-toy to use for the betterment of the Shadow Isles.

*

When Lillia woke, she found the world around her had changed. No more was there the stench of Bilgewater and the port on the air and neither was it the sweetness of her forest home, but something softened and musty, a sense of dilapidation surrounding her. It seemed to be a mansion of some kind that had fallen into disrepair, nothing in the window frames and most doors swinging open aimlessly, only commanded by a drifting, curious breeze.

She inspected her body closely, but there was not even the mere semblance of bruising left, nor any bodily waste remaining down her legs and under her tail. She shook her head. It had happened, she knew, but the fear was gone in a new environment, the clawing drive of despair something that the Black Mists were known to generate. Lillia just hadn't expected that effect to be so strong...

The doe shivered. It was a far cry to helping a wandering traveller in her forest have sweet dreams, a world that she should never have entered. And yet she was there to stay, somewhere that she could not tell the name of, carpet ripped up under her hooves, wallpaper stained and peeling.

There were signs of life, however, a dining table set up with broken china, her fingertips brushing the edges gently. There were books too and she looked into them rather than daring to look out the windows, her bough still clasped in her hand. It was surprising that that had remained with her but she could only assume that she was being kept somewhere until Hecarim returned for her. All she could do in the meantime was shove down the sense of twisting, roiling nerves in her belly and strive for escape. But what fae was she to think that she could simply slip so easily from his clutches.

"There has to be something..." She muttered. "Old magic, new magic... I can use other magic, anything to get out, yes, yes, that's it."

Her voice still was light, even if a little croaky where she needed a drink, but it lifted her to know that she was still herself. Lillia still sounded like herself and, somehow, that was enough to keep her looking, pawing through the books.

Escape, yes, escape... That was all she could think about, her throat closing up with emotion that she could not let out. There had to be something there and magic was what a fae wielded best, though it had been humiliatingly obvious that she was not equipped as she was by herself to stand up to the Black Mists and the Shadow Isles as she was.

In knowledge, there was power. She could try that... As much of a long shot as it was.

The pages were old and battered, yellowing at the edges but still readable, magic that she had never known before leaping to life on the pages. Setting the book on a table, though she had to sweep leaves and dirt and other debris from it to clear space, she pored over it, too easily fascinated and wrapped up in any text. She'd mostly learned from scrolls when she was younger.

One of the pages was darker than the rest and she tilted her head, striving to see just why that was, though it was not to be such a clean and simple answer. The surface bubbled and she squealed like a much younger doe than she was, her eyes wide and staring, trembling fingers brushing her lips, though such a touch would not root her in any moment that she wanted to be in.

"Oh... Oh, no..."

The nightmare continued, the sinking feeling in her stomach dragging her right back down into the hell that she'd thought that she'd escaped. She whimpered and backed away, holding up her hands, but there was nowhere for the fae to go as the book lurched and gurgled right before her eyes, writhing, twisting tentacles pushing from the surface as if they had any right to be there.

She couldn't help herself: it may have been magic that the resourceful, resolute little fae sought but she could not remain there. She turned on her heel with a squeal and lunged away - but the tentacles were quicker. Formed from the purest slices of darkness themselves, they lashed out after her, extending from the book as if there were endless swathes of them, a length that would never find itself come to any kind of end. All Lillia knew was them wrapped around her midsection and yanking her back, handling her body so lightly and easily that she doubted that she weighed anything at all for a moment.

"Ahhh!"

She couldn't help the scream, though it made her feel even smaller and less significant than ever to let it out, ripping from a throat that was rendered sorer than ever in the absence of it. The deer-taur scrambled and kicked but her bough was gone and dropped from her hands in the blink of an eye, her one lifeline and hope cast away.

Her stomach turned over sickeningly, the roil of nausea pushing up her throat, although there was nothing in her stomach for her to throw up. That was her last hope, the only thing that made it easier for a fae like her to cast magic, something to channel the inherent and learned power that laced her body. She needed a vessel, something to act as a tool to convey her will into the magic itself - and now it was gone.

She sobbed, the wracking gasp caught in her throat, bubbling and twisting, cavorting like a doe at wicked play.

"W-what do you want from me?" She cried out, barely able to get her words out through her sobs, though she could not allow herself to cry, not then. "P-please... Let me g-gooo..."

She didn't want to cry but big, fat tears already were sliding down her cheeks, dangling upside down as she was, tracking from the corners of her eyes over her temples as she swung back and forth. Lillia struggled against the tentacles but, as before, there was no point when they were infused with the darkness that poisoned and sullied the land, ensuring that there was no hope left for her even when the fae thought that she was able to snatch it from the jaws of death itself. They coiled tightly around her wrists, dragging them behind her back, standing her on four hooves, though that did not make her feel any more stable or in control of her body at all. On the contrary, she was posed and posed there like a statue, squirming and wriggling uselessly as they yanked her hooves apart, forcing both pairs to splay.

"Let me go, I won't tell anyone about you, I just need to... Hey - no! Get out!"

Her breath caught and her struggles renewed as the tentacles, which had been climbing and crawling over the deer part of her body, tickling the lower back of her human-like torso, moved lower into more sensitive areas entirely. They cared not for modesty or decency as they explored her, ignoring her yells, her crying, her wails. They only cared for what her body could do for them, all that they could take from her, teasing under her tail and against the sensitive bud of her tail hole.

Lillia stiffened, though there was nowhere for her to go or to run to anyway. No, it could not be happening, it really could not be happening. Yet there was no twitch strong enough left in her muscles to wrench her bodily away from the tentacles, their surface perfectly smooth and not slimy at all, though Lillia could not be sure whether that terrified her more or less.

"S-stop, p-p-please..."

Her stutters grew and grew even though she had no idea what the tentacles wanted to do to her, her tail flagging instinctively as they pressed up against her soft, cervine folds. Not another soul in the whole forest or even the world beyond that had ever touched her there before and she squeaked, trying to lift a hoof in warning, though they would not allow her to kick. They had her in too tight a hold.

The rubbing was nice in a strange way though, even if she could not settle or relax into it, for surely the tentacles had nefarious means for her. The book still laid before her on the reading stand, although it would not do her any good with her wrists lashed behind her back, the tentacles rippling and flowing over her as if their form was not entirely solid. That was not that unusual for magic.

Her breath caught as something cold seeped into her, the tentacles rooting her in place, not allowing a mere inch of fight or even movement. Her head spun, the room tilting sickeningly before her, but the moaning deer could not know what was happening to her, why everything felt so very strange in a moment that should not have truly have been.

The magic of the Shadow Isles, and Hecarim's magic more specifically, was not of the soft, light kind that she was used to, their insidious means bringing more darkness than lightness in any time. The cold that entered her bones curled through her, ice in the pit of her stomach, and her head hung, unable to hold herself up if not for the tentacles that supported her in a strange sort of way. Was she glad for them? Her head lolled, rolling drowsily, from one shoulder to the other. Maybe, maybe not, she didn't have to worry about that question all that much...

It was hard to worry when her body was curling into heat, her season bringing her into the prime of mating, even though there was no mate there that the fae doe could see. Lillia whimpered, fingers twitching, but there was nought to be done as she shifted her weight, her tail twitching up a little higher. The tentacles sensed that she was more amenable to their advances and poured even more black magic into her, corruption teasing into her very soul as the glow of her brown fur, more and more, faded away.

She was no longer to remain the Lillia that she had been since birth, the deer-taur's fur fading and fading to a sickly sort of green that one may have found on a fungus that was not to be eaten or similar. Even her skin took on a paler, greyer shade, rendering her beauty less so, though it could not steal the facial shapes from her, how her jaw was stubbornly pointed. It could, however, soften the kindness in her eyes, rendering them a dull grey amongst the lank locks of her hair, the fae scrambling even them, muscles twitching, trying to push back against the black magic that would have been too much even for a more experienced magic wielder than her.

"I... Ah... Uh..."

All she could get out was grunts and groans, something wet streaming from her feminine folds. That was not something that she had ever felt before but she pushed back against the darkness around her, even jerking her shoulders as she strove to bodily shove it away, as if that was going to do her any good. The tentacles wrapped themselves around her even more tightly, near enough completely covering the bulk of her body, ripping away the leaf bodice from her chest to reveal her tits. All the while, something that she did not understand streamed from her folds, the odd twitch and pulse of them reminding her of another life and another. Maybe she remembered it from a dream, somewhere, sometime.

"Eeep! Noooo!"

She squealed and moaned yet could not even tell for herself whether she wanted it or not, two tentacles in perfect timing pushing into her holes. Her feminine entrance: that she knew was meant to be penetrated. Her backdoor, the tight ring of her anus tucked up under her tail, that... Oh, no, that was never meant to be penetrated, she knew that, a part that was not meant for what they were doing to her as she gasped and grunted and tried to jerk away. Yet she was not the Lillia that she had once been, her squeaks falling on ears that were not there to hear her, hips jerking as she was violated in one of the most intimate of fashions that a fae could ever find themselves in.

Yet the magic had corrupted her, the darkness seeping into her soul, cold whisperings pushing into her heated body, telling her form that it was alright, that it was what a breeding-doe was meant to do. She could not have said what that was supposed to mean even as her hindquarters jerked and twitched, rocking and pushing back without even thinking about it into the embrace of the tentacles.

She'd never had that before, not for herself, though she'd seen animals and humans too coming together in sweet sexuality. They did it for the act of mating, two creatures entangled in lust, coming together because they both wanted it, procreation and pleasure being the orders of the day. Never before had she witnessed it happening as openly as it was happening to her, the tentacles pushing into her, thrusting and pushing as if they were male, though she could not see such a thing as either male or female.

"Oh... Ohhh..."

The moan did not come easily to her but it soothed her chest a little, something loosening there as she gave in, bit by bit. It was easier, was it not, to slip down into the dark embrace? The tentacles moved over her but it was impossible for her to tell whether they were tightening or loosening, pushing deep, finding a spot inside her cunny that made her guts twist with a strange sensation of discomfort and pleasure, both at the same time.

Lillia gasped but never managed to get a full lungful of air as the tentacles used her body. They thrust and ground even as two more rose like serpents, dangling before her lips even as she shook her head, though even that move was weak on her part. Her head had barely tipped one way and back the other as they wormed their way demandingly into her mouth, forcing the issue as she hacked and gagged, striving not to give in to that. That was putrid, that was disgusting and that bore no pleasure for her: unlike the tentacles thrusting into her holes at the same time and twisting her stomach up into knots.

Those... Her head swam, her clutch on reality shifting and drifting. Those could stay, she was sure of it. Those could not be so bad when they made her feel so good, though there was a strain and a stretch around the one shoved up under her tail especially. The other was already well-coated in her juices, however, somehow understanding that that was something that her body was producing, the tightness in her body delicious and terrifying simultaneous. Funny how things like that could come to light so easily in the Shadow Isles when she would never have believed that such a concept could exist back with the Mother Tree to watch over her.

Thing were different there and they would never be the same again as she was forced, head wrenched back, to take something slick down her throat, though it was not so easily swallowed. It was sticky and clung to both her tongue and the back of her throat something awful, her eyes watering, another tentacle twisting around her head in a sort of blindfold, for her world narrowed to blackness.

Something cold pressed in over her shaded eyes, worming its way into her mind, the whispers growing, the souls of the darkness screaming for attention. Yet she was now part of them too as she squirmed in place, moaning around the fat tentacle plundering her mouth, even finding herself ever so slightly leaning into her. Her body wanted more, rippling with heat, even clenching down a little around the tentacle stuffing her cunny, even if she did not know just what she was doing. That was the wonderful thing about mating: a creature did not always have to be completely in the know about it to follow the basest of instincts that brought them, over and over again, the next generation.

They thrust and ground into her, taking turns, ensuring that one of her holes was filled at all times, though the tentacles did not pull out all the way as they worked on her brain. It was all part of the corruption, dragging the fae doe down and down and down, her body theirs to do with as they willed. Her body was a vessel for power and their instructions were clear, though they had not had to emerge from the book that she had taken such interest in: that had merely been a happy accident in that regard. No, it was better that her body was abused, taken, corrupted, that she was forced over to her cause. A gentle conversion, after all, was not something that ever took place in the Shadow Isles.

Lillia's mind drifted, the darkness closing in around her, although she knew that she was still conscious. She did not feel awake though, drifting as if in a dream as thoughts that were not her own floated and wavered in her line of attention.

Bring the nightmare.

_ _

No, she was a fae. She brought dreams, not nightmares. That wasn't her. She was the bringer of sweet dreams...wasn't she?

Nightmare fae. Death, destruction. Force of evil. Better this way: stronger, more powerful.

_ _

Lillia groaned. Was that true? Was that who she was, what she had become?

Destruction is good... Feed it...

_ _

Maybe that was better. Sweet dreams had never brought her anything good anyway.

Good... Let the darkness come.

_ _

She would let it come, leaning into it, knowing nothing other than it, her body shuddering for breath that could only come when the fat tentacle that had wormed its way into her throat pulled back. Her holes were filled and plundered and she was dimly aware of something wracking her, though it was a twisted sort of pleasure. There was goodness in it but it was tainted too, not a dream but a nightmare. Only later would she understand that that was her very first climax, her folds rippling and pulsing erratically around the tentacles that sought to make her theirs.

Be the destruction bringer... Bringer of nightmares.

_ _

Lillia shuddered, an aftershock of orgasm.

No more sweetness, only dreams. Carnage, yes, destroy, yes. No more lightness and sweetness. No more, no more, no more. You are, no more.

_ _

She didn't need to be who she had once been, she understood that. Her eyes tried to open but there was nothing to see as they thrust harder and faster all over again, rampantly filling her with their thick lengths. She had not known that they could thrust so deeply but she was forced to bear through it all the same as her muffled cries were swallowed up by the one filling her mouth. It did not seem obliged to pull back out, not even after that fluid had been absorbed by her body, but they cared about bringing her down into true debasement, stripping away her fae-ness once and for all.

The tentacles slipped away, showing her just how weak she was as her knees tried to buckle, a whimper on her lips, climax after climax ripping through her. She was nothing to them, nothing at all, just something to be used and abused, a passing moment that could be brought over to the dark side of oneness. Another slipped into her cunny, stretching it even further with two fat lengths of tentacle ploughing into her, stretching her body more and more as she was not given any choice about accommodating them. With her legs buckled, her back end stuck up in the air as if she was offering her heat-struck body to them, crying out as ecstasy that she did not welcome ripped through her.

Please... More... More for the bringer of nightmares...

_ _

Lillia did not know who she was, who she was thinking, her mental defences crumbling more and more. What was the difference between dreams and nightmares anyway? Did it even matter? All she needed was for them to keep twisting into her, driving more and more of their thickness into her body, taking her.

She didn't know why she wanted that, only that it felt so good that she could not have brought herself to pull away even if she had been free to do so. The tentacles covered her eyes and filled her mouth as well as the entrances under her tail, though they had relaxed where they had crawled and wrapped around her body as if, even then, they were interested in seeing just what she would do. Yet the fae did not know what would please them, what they truly wanted, only that her body craved something that they could give her in spades and buckets of delight that was just like another form of magic.

They thrust and drove into her furiously, the slamming grind too rough for her body, though they didn't care about that. No, they didn't care that she was sore and strained, her body forced beyond what capabilities she as a virgin should have naturally had. No one could say either way whether her virginity had been stripped from her either, her moans rising, thrumming through the air, even with the tentacle in her mouth. Such passions rose with due fervour and she could not hold back from it, hips rising, bucking, thrusting, wanting it all the more. If her eyes had been uncovered, anyone watching her would have seen how hazed over they were, the little fae losing her mind even there, whimpering and whining for the pound of the tentacles.

Her legs quivered.

Yes... More for the bringer of nightmares, yes, more...

_ _

The tentacles shuddered in reply.

Yet it was that moment of weakness that was her undoing, the moans that warbled up from her throat, need coming up more and more strongly. They wound around her again, tightening, binding her up in them - not because they wanted to ensure that she could not get away but to bring her over to their side well and truly. Corruption was not a one-time thing, after all, and she had to be brought into the fold, truly infested, her body contorting in passion and desire unlike anything that she could have ever imagined for herself. The heat that had begun in her body was only the start of it and there was more still to come as a third tentacle spiralled into her soaked pussy, forcing her into another orgasm. She would have to bear through it, the entrapping tentacles knowing more than enough what their job was, what their purpose was. There was no distinction between one orgasm and the next for Lillia and she howled brokenly out around the tentacle as her body was held up, trapped by the tentacles even though she would never have had the strength of heart or soul to struggle, truly, anymore.

No... Even a fae doe like her knew when they were there to stay, well and truly. There was no escaping the grasp of darkness when her juices slopped down the tentacle, stirring up a strange sort of deep need her that hungered for more. It was stranger than ever to be hungry without needing food in her stomach, a twisted truth that didn't make any sense, yet she craved it all the same. Just like she wanted her freedom, she wanted that tenacious, driving ecstasy too. It gnawed at the pit of her belly, driving her near enough mad with desire for it, howling and contorting, no longer even sure of which way was up and which way was down. She whined and whimpered, even striving to press her tongue up against the tentacle in her mouth, the thrusts in her pussy and tail hole redoubling their efforts for hers.

That was how she learned that she could get something of what she wanted if she pleasured them. Just a little, but it was there. They crammed into her anal passage and she did not know whether there were one or more tentacles stuffed in there, only that she was strained to the breaking point and still wanting more. Other tentacles twisted around and burned away her fur to embed curses on her, old, dark magic that would lock her in her bonds forever, turning her into a creature of the Shadow Isles without her consent. There was no place, after all, for dreams in such a land as that and that was something that Lillia should have known before she'd ventured to Bilgewater in the first place.

The curses were painted on, carved on, her blood running, though she felt no pain, falling, her mind broken, slipping away. There was too much pleasure as she was pounded and brought to orgasm after orgasm, head spinning, her blood pulsing, everything in her body aching and burning, searing through.

Will you submit? Sign the deed?

_ _

Her eyes fluttered open and yet she saw nothing. Was that her or someone else?

Sign the deed. Sign the terms. Become one of the Shadow Isles. Oh, Bringer of Nightmares...

_ _

Yes, that was who she was, who she needed to be. She was no longer Lillia, the Garden and the Tree Mother so very far from her mind. The corrupt spells were carved into her sickly, green body, across her hindquarters and even her tits too, forever marking her as a servant of the darkness. Never again with the light of the sun warm her fur when she had fallen so far, fallen and fragile and so easily broken by those who knew how to treat little beasts such as her.

Why was she there? Oh, she was the nightmare-bringer, no more than that. Yes, that was all, she thought, as she cried out, her bladder giving out as she could not even hold that part of herself, urine mixing with her arousal. There was nothing more for her than that passion and the thrill of climax coursing through her, tingling through her skin, making her want it all the more, slurping and slavering hungrily on the tentacles in a vain effort to get more of what suddenly sustained her.

Bring...all...nightmares.

_ _

The only part of her that remained a frail testament to her previous self were the stamens on top of her head, more readily visible through her hair when it hung lankly, for they were the bright point that remained, lively colours swirling in their depths. There was no doubt that they would be dealt with in due course but there would still be a little of Lillia left in the interim, a little of her that still wanted to fight back against the Black Mists and the darkness while she was pleasured to screaming climax after climax.

Slowly, the tentacles released her, though the thick lengths rammed up under her tail were the last ones to go, stretching her to the point of pain, even though it only made her want them all the more. Her body was no longer that poisonous, drained shade of green but a frail, cold blue, something that had arisen again from death like the spirits that she had helplessly fought or perhaps a plague-beast that had not succumbed as it had been supposed to.

She lay curled up on her side, breathing shortly and shallowly, her lungs cold, so very cold. Was it day? Oh, it was so hard to tell as her legs quivered, stinking with her own arousal and piss. To anyone on the outside, she would not be any different to the other horrific creatures on the Shadow Isles, but she was not to know that yet.

Up, she had to get up.

Though shaky after so many climaxes, she staggered upright with a great effort of will, her mind twisting with thoughts that hardly seemed to be her own. The mansion...yes. It was a safe place, she didn't know why she hadn't thought that before. Lillia shivered, one of the curses embedded in her skin glowing with an icy light. Yes, it was her home, the mansion was her home. But she would not be home for long when she had nightmares to spread.

The fae smiled darkly and licked her lips, though some part of that still felt unnatural to her.

How ridiculous little humans are, she thought, eyeing up the texts that were the most dilapidated, from the libraries of the scurrying rats. To destroy their puny dreams... That is why I am here. Their last refuge is so easily broken, so easily scrapped. She shivered. I must show them how frail they really are.

_ _

Her head fogged up and she shook it to clear it, something else trying to push in. The curses burned on her, drawing a hiss from her lips. Best not to think more on that. She was a nightmare-bringer, no more than that.

"I see you have accustomed to your new role."

Lillia froze. Even though she was a creature of the Shadow Isles, Hecarim still struck fear into her heart, the taur looming, four times her size and helmed still, though she was sure he was a stag. And that he was a stag had her bracing her hind legs, spreading them for him, whimpering and bleating as if she was nothing more than dumb doe in season, waiting for her stud to mount and rut her until cum spilt from her in hot swathes.

The spell on her hind end shone and shone, the contract that she had entered into with Hecarim, even though there was no mental recollection for her of signing it. Yet the power of obedience coursed through her, driving her to bend the knee, to bow before him, her master, her dominator, the only hooves that she would ever kiss again in her life.

"An eager slut, aren't you?"

The demon smirked as he stalked her, circling her, watching as she froze and bleated, her tail raised, showing off all that she had on offer. Even the udders that should have been small and tucked up under her body were thicker and fuller after the curses had been laid, everything in place for him to mate her. Yet there was a debasement yet to come as his massively thick member slid out, glistening with pre-cum already, his body prepared to mount any hole at any time, spreading the darkness of putrid seed far and wide.

He didn't need to use words as he stood over her, letting his presence be all the order she needed, his cock hanging right there before her eyes. The brand on her backside glowed fiercely, burning and biting, and she juddered forward, eyes wide and lips parted already for his cock.

Lillia did not know how to give head but she did not need to know when Hecarim was ready to use her muzzle as he pleased. And all Hecarim knew was to be savage. There was no gentleness and light in him as he shoved his cock into her mouth, her tiny lips barely able to take the thick tip, even though it was meatier than a stag's cock should have been. Lillia gulped and whimpered and yet there was not even a shadow of a doubt in her mind as to disobeying him, licking and lapping, swirling her tongue around, treating his cock like she had, in the end, done to the tentacles. They'd seemed to like it and a nightmare-bringer too had to know how to pleasure, to best serve her lord and dominator day in and day out...

"A breeding whore for the Shadow Isles... Do you still want to spread sweet dreams, bitch?"

No, no, she wanted to tell him, though all she could do was lift her little tail in submission, showing her subservience to him in the most carnal of ways, to her. She was his sweet little nightmare-bringer, the one to infiltrate the dreams of all and turn them to rust and ruin. There was no need to bring good dreams when she could twist them, greedily slurping at his cock as she even grew excited at the thought. A thick scent, which was her arousal, grew in the air and Hecarim inhaled deeply through his helm, eyes glowing with fierce delight. Even a conqueror could take perverted pleasure in the brutality of taking one such as Lillia.

"You need training, whore... Let me help you!"

The last words burst from him in a snarl as the darkness wrapped around her, holding her head in place, the stamen atop her head brushing his underbelly. Yet Lillia could not think about that as he slammed into her mouth, taking her throat, shoving his cock in even as the corners of her lips split and cracked, her body too small for him, far too small. She hacked and gagged around him, her body convulsing, even her means of breathing cut off, but it was hardly as if Hecarim was going to care about that as he took his pleasure from her.

A doe to breed and fuck as he pleased... Oh, he had others but she was the sweetest trophy of all, so much smaller than him, his hooves the size of dinner plates in comparison to her dainty pair. Yet the dark magic in her would convert and corrupt her as his slimy pre-cum slid down her throat, finding a way without her even actively swallowing, the fae doe's eyes streaming from the strain. If they were tears on her part, Lillia did not breathe life into them in a sob, wanting to be good for her master, a good, obedient bringer of nightmares for the Shadow Isles.

"You'll suck my cock every day now. There will be nothing more for you."

She wanted to tell him, "yes, master", but that was more than a shade difficult with a cock in her mouth, though the pain was quick to fade. Maybe that was because she was so focused on him, bringing her trembling hands up at long last as she hid under his stomach, safe there despite the danger. What she could not truly fit of his cock in her mouth she massaged with her hands, pumping the length, taking her cues from him. She would have to learn quickly and be a good study to please him, to survive there, or else Hecarim would dispose of her like he had so many others.

Wait, why did she want to service him? That tiny bit of her that was still pure struggled up, fighting, but was thrust down as the branded curses on her body seared through with red-hot pain all over again, putting her back in her place. She didn't need to remember the life she'd had before, not when she was where she was supposed to be, sucking on his dick as if there was nothing else for her left in the whole world.

The beast above her rumbled and growled, stamping, his armour lying heavily on his form, though that was not for her. She loved it too, in a way, for it made Hecarim appear all the more intimidating and powerful, though she was sure too that he did not need it. Her hands wrapped around as much of his cock as possible and she moaned out her need for him, juices practically streaming from her pussy as she bowed down before him, barely even needing to crouch to stay under his belly in prime position.

Yet Hecarim growled and shoved her away before he was done, standing over her, his cock hard and wanton. Pre-cum streamed from the tip in a slick yet thin rope and she leaned towards it plaintively, despite her chest shuddering and gasping for breath. What her body needed and what the mind of a servant needed were two very distinct things in a moment like that and the curses denoted which one had precedence in the end of it all.

Hecarim laughed, mocking and derision lacing his tone, though he did not bother to warn the doe what he was doing to her as he spread his hind legs just a little. With his cock out, it was an easy task for him to urinate on her, hot splashes of acrid piss soaking into her fur as she stayed right where she was, shivering submissively.

"Yes, master," she breathed, closing her eyes as he pissed over her head, streams of urine washing the dirt from her body, burning in her brands, the curses glaring. "Yes, master, take me, your nightmare bringer, for I will forever serve you. Use me, master. Take me, master. Do anything you want with me, master."

Hecarim knew right there and then that she was broken but it was the mating that would bind her contractually to him for all eternity, a creature to be sent out into the world to spread seeds of unrest wherever she roamed. The Black Mists swirled around them, shoving her into position as he wiped his dick off on her face, further debasing her as she whimpered and lowered herself even further for him.

"Such a weak fae fawn..." He taunted her, lifting a hind hoof as if threatening to kick but deciding that she was not worth the bother. "Not once but twice, you've pissed yourself before me. You're not a doe, you're a fawn, a bitch to be fucked and bred, but maybe this is your place to be used as a piss point for all in the land. Would you like that, little whore?"

"Yes, master, anything for you, master, absolutely anything you want of me, master..."

Lillia reeled inwardly from what she was agreeing to but she could not stop herself even as the monster yanked her back onto all four hooves by one of her stamen, a shriek bursting from her lips. Pain could still be felt, after all, as he mounted her from behind, arms going around her chest to grasp her breasts. His huge hands covered them entirely but she had not a moment in which to gasp before his cock entered her - and her world turned awash in pleasure and pain.

She had to hold herself there, bracing for his incredible weight, the difference in sizes between them almost laughable in that moment. Yet Lillia was just the servant and he was the master and all she could do was endeavour to bear through his will, to take the mighty strokes of his breeding rod, the cock that would plunder her every day for the rest of her time, her eternity. Pain came with red-hot ferocity, a snarling beast sinking its teeth into her, yet she had to bear through it for him, crying out as he savagely pounded her. Her tiny, frail body was only just strong enough, with the blackness of the Shadow Isles infiltrating her soul, to take him, ramming in with raw abandon. It had been an age or longer since Hecarim had had any feeling for those that he took carnally and he slammed in, forcing his cock deeper and deeper, demanding, even then, that her body take him. It did not matter that she had not been adequately prepared for him, only that she submit, only that she take him, take his shaft as she would take his seed when his orgasm was to come.

His fingers dug into her breasts as he leaned in close, her body breaking and bending, barely able to stand up to the force of his thrusts.

"Isn't it better to let humans surrender to us?" Hecarim hissed. "They are so weak, so frail... They will not survive. They can come under our rule, be one with us. They can be useful here, the lines of souls before us. They can be twisted, turned, brought to devious turns... They are mine to use."

She panted. She couldn't have gotten any words out if she thought about it, gasping for breath, her lungs aching. Every part of Lillia ached and there was nothing that she could do to stop it as she howled and took every inch, her orgasm ripping through. There was nothing she could do about it, powerless in the moment, yet she could never hope to close the power gap between her and Hecarim.

"The humans need us, need our control, my control..."

She was the bringer of nightmares and had to submit. She had to give her master that control, that power. She had to be his servant.

Lillia moaned out loud, folds rippling around his cock as he bred her, though there was a part of her body too that longed for his cock driving up under her tail too. It remained flagged all the while for him even though he already had easy access to her cunt, her folds plush and swollen. Whether her mind knew it or not, she was ready to take him again and again, legs shaking under him, needing him so much more, desire coursing through.

"Give in..."

But she already had as she panted open-mouthed, mouthing his name, mouthing "master", everything that she was coming over to Hecarim's side and cause. There was nothing else for her as she surrendered, imagining the nightmares that she would bring to the land and the world, shuddering with the delight of it. Lillia's grunting groans rose and rose, no longer doing anything to hold it back. There was no need for that, not when she was serving her master, her body becoming slowly more and more used to him, though it would forever be a tight fit for a cock as thick as his.

"My breeding whore... It's all you'll be good for. Bring your nightmares forth, spread them throughout the land!"

She howled out his name as another climax gripped her, hindquarters shuddering and bucking, though that only served to give her master even more pleasure than he was currently taking from her. Yet a willing whore and hole to fuck would forever me more pleasurable than an unwilling one and that was just why the corruption curse worked so darkly and beautifully, twisting what could have been light to insidious means. That was the true power of the Shadow Isles, the corruption of the Black Mists, what even his tentacles had been born from in the beginning of all, bursting from the book to train his doe. The fae was soon to be broken and she would come to see his side of things all in good time, whimpering and moaning for him, knowing nothing more at all about her world but what he fed to her.

It was control and it was power, everything that he could have needed all over again as he slammed into her, humping and grinding, his orgasm rising. The fae under him climaxed again and she finally lost that last shred of herself, the stamen on top of her head shrivelling, drawing back into themselves, turning a necromantic shade that she would not have recognised if she had been able to see it with her own eyes at that moment in time. There was nothing left of her, the fae that had, once, been so very hopeful, that had thought that she could change the world, though her overlord knew none of that. He didn't care either.

She was there for him and only him, her folds pulsing and pulling at his dick, milking him without her even realising what was happening. She was not with herself enough to understand what she was doing to him, what she was telling him that she wanted, yet she would not have seen his smirk behind his helm either. Slamming into her, her tight cunt closing around him, he grunted viciously, fingers digging into her breasts, one huge hand going to her shoulder. It was not the best of positions for it, considering how the weight of him already had her legs buckling, but Hecarim cared not for that, blue flames leaping and dancing as his lust grew.

She had to take him, the cold heat of his flames searing through her, the curse burning, for it knew that the contract was soon to be signed. She needed it all, whimpering for him, bliss washing through her in flaring, flashing snarls of pain, her need rising, even though she was there to serve. It was not for Lillia to take all for herself, not even in the end of it all, the reek of her own urine and arousal thick in the air, though the musk of the beast looming over her, bearing down on her, could not be ignored. It sank into her nostrils, sliding down her windpipe, infiltrating her system better than any curse, moaning and whimpering, needing only his cock.

She would do anything for him, anything at all, her master, the only master that she had ever needed in the world. Yet her world was no further than the Shadow Isles as the monster slammed into her, deeper and deeper, every inch of his cock in use as her legs buckled at the hocks.

She had to! Lillia screamed as he finally let loose, balls slapping her hind end, as deep as he could go. His need was unparalleled and she was there for him as she watched her bough shrivel on the ground before her, becoming useless, the flower that had given it its power long gone. There was no need for any of that as he spent himself inside her, long, thick, cold ropes of seed flooding her, though all the fae wanted to do was to lean back into it, groaning out loud, trembling in place.

That was what she was meant to do. Her master... Lillia's head pounded, feeling more and more of his seed slopping into her, filling her up. He wanted her. She was honoured to take him, to serve him, to bend the knee to him. There was nowhere else that the fae doe would have rather have been as she cried out his name, begging him to breed her, to honour her, to use her whenever and however he pleased. It ended up being a stream of barely coherent words but Hecarim did not care for anything of that matter, rocking and jerking his hips as he made sure every last drop of seed was spent where it belonged.

"You'll bear _many_of my fawns..."

That was all she wanted, lowering her head in obedient service to him. Whatever her master wanted of his bringer of nightmares, he could have of her, without question. There was no more that she could give him and no greater honour that even he could bestow on her.

She spread her legs, letting him dismount, though he would not yet be done with her, his cock remaining hard through it all.

"Little whore... You have found a better home here. How many nightmares have you already to spread?"

So many, so very many. Yet all she could do was spread her legs even further, rocking on her cloven hooves, trying to present herself even more amenably to him. She wanted to serve again, her body hot and ready, her heat rippling through her, demanding that she serve and let him know that she was ready.

"Master..." She breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Let your bringer of nightmares serve you... However you please..."

Cum dripped from her folds, strained and left gaping, a lewd bubble of a cream-pie drooling forth. It streamed and dripped thickly, demonstrating his virility for how much he had filled her, her stomach churning itself into knots, though not even Lillia could have denied the happiness in her heart.

Under his command and rule, she would strengthen the power of the Shadow Isles, the home that she should never have left there. Her bough was no longer needed as her stamen twitched, her tail lifted perpetually for her master's pleasure, grunting softly and eagerly in the back of her throat. Only with his power flooding through her would she be able to spray Nightmare Dust, turning lightness to darkness and destroying the life and love of all living creatures' dreams.

She shivered deliciously, imagining his cock inside her again, how pleased her master was going to be with her when she did his bidding. What more could one fae doe wish for?

It was her purpose, her meaning in life, her hide a shaded blue, though the ends of her fur were stained green too. Lillia saw nothing strange in that and never would ever again, her old life long behind, pussy far too empty without his cock, wanting him again, wanting everything that her master could give her all the more.

She couldn't do without him.

His hand closed on her stamen, dragging her head back, forcing her to look back up at him, her back arched as she tried to do as he bid.

"Oh... Oh, master..."

"My bringer of nightmares," he rumbled. "Your role is now to begin."

Lillia shivered. She couldn't wait.

She'd been waiting for too long already.

*

One year later, the residents that had returned to Bilgewater and made something of the town after the Harrowing rested uneasily. They tossed and turned in their beds, unable to find simple rest, dreading what would come after they closed their eyes. Falling asleep, strangely, was still easy for them with the sameness of their town seeping through all else, yet the nightmares were not ones that could be easily escaped.

They came every night without fail, trapped in their dreams, finding themselves standing in the middle of the Black Mists themselves. As the humans turned and turned, striving to find a way out, some sense of direction, the beast of Hecarim loomed forth from the swirling swathes, laughing, rearing up onto his back legs with his spear clasped in his hand.

He roared and bellowed and stamped but, no matter which way the humans darted and lunged, he always stabbed them, sliced them, cut them down where they stood. Blood spurted and the slash of his monstrous blade could not be evaded, the nightmare full of screams even when they had fallen, dying again and again and again, the nightmare replaying.

And there was no escape.

Yet, there was someone new at the harbour while they slept and tossed in sweat-laden nightmares, Hecarim himself standing there with Lillia at his side, standing deferentially a little back from him. The former spiritual fae doe had once been full of hope, bright and lively, but was none of that anymore as she spread the Nightmare Dust from the bud on her head, letting it seep into the Black Mists. They were a better carrier for it, rather than the Dream-Laded Bough, and she would do everything as her master commanded her to. There was nothing else for her in the world, a loyal, obedient servant, than what Hecarim decreed for her, his faithful breeding doe, the Bringer of Nightmares.

"You have learned, fawn... But you have far to go. There are more lands to infect, more to bring under the arm of the Shadow Isles, where they belong. You have found your place."

Lillia shivered but could not break her concentration when he was standing over her. That would make her a bad servant and she could not do that when she was contracted to be obedient. There were no longer any thoughts of her previous life and the Mother Tree in her mind, only the act of submission to one who was greater than her, who would forever be greater than her. She was there to serve and the evidence of that lay in her belly too, her womb swollen with his spawn, her abdomen abnormally bulging.

She was pregnant from his many subsequent breeding takings of her, though only time would tell whether she would give birth to a single fawn or multiple ones. Anything was possible when it came to a creature of the Shadow Isles and her stomach was more than large enough for it, the weight of her belly throwing her off-balance whenever she moved.

Yet she could please her master in other ways, smiling faintly as she stared at the town that was no longer familiar to her, her heart rejoicing in their fear.

"Behold, the might of the Shadow Isles."

Her master's pleasure curled around her, the Black Mists urging her on.

Forever she would remain his Bringer of Nightmares.