Pride: Gods and Demons
#13 of Pride
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"How could you allow something like this to happen?!" Tintalia's voice snapped despite her effort to control her own temper.
Rogeth sat before her across a sitting table with no more remorse then a child who had been caught thieving pies. She, however, was nearly ready to have him whipped in the courtyard for his negligence. How he had allowed their prize to go near another of her prizes and get injured she had no idea. The drapen was tame, but only barely; he was like a panther turned into a pet. The fact he wore a collar didn't remove the fact that he was dangerous when roused. He had killed a few men before this, but none so valuable as Sean. How he'd been allowed near the beast without a score of men to keep him safe she had no idea, but she was ready to be rid of her so called 'advisor'. Sean wasn't even supposed to be aware of her experiment, let alone interacting with it. Rogeth regarded her with almost mildly rebuking eyes that made the urge to have him flogged increase.
"I allowed nothing to happen, lady." His voice was cool and soft. "I believe more good than harm could come from the episode. Even now he fever is beginning to drop and that had always been the danger of the beast's venom."
"He wasn't supposed to know of it." Tintalia reigned her temper in. "And what good could possibly come of his near death? Suppose his mind has been boiled to the point his talent could be lost?"
"I don't believe it has, but I believe the fever could help encourage the way he hears animals." Rogeth leaned forward and gestured to wine in askance as he glanced at her empty cup. "The old shamans used to boast that they would go into such trances and return more controlled and powerful than before."
"The old shamans used to burn dung in the hopes they'd see the future." Tintalia gestured sharply to allow him to pour the wine. "The old ways aren't always superior or mystical, they're simply dying superstitions of a barbarian age."
"It has also let us know that we can save those who have been envenomed, lady." He poured her glass and looked up at her. "It also lets us know what might work with things other then humans."
"You mean breeding it back to the dracine?" She put a questioning lilt to her voice. "I've been told at least one of the female's is due to clutch. There's hope that the hatchlings could breed true in the way he has."
"Yes, but that limits your stock. You don't breed sibling to sibling nor dam to sire." Rogeth offered her to glass with a slight bow. "I believe if the lines are intermingled we might have more success and cure the problem of waste we've had with past attempts."
Tintalia grimaced in memory of such attempts. The beast had fangs larger than a dracine and even muzzled the beak tip could pierce a female's flesh allowing the venom to get in. Despite being a half breed of that species, it's venom had killed the females in a matter of a day before its seed even had a chance to take. It was imperative that they were able to breed more than one of the creatures. Aerial domination had been unheard of since the dragons had been killed. No town or army would be prepared against it. There wasn't a person in living memory that had even seen a creature in flight, let alone in battle. Not unless they went north and even then the rumors of the creatures seemed little more than rumors to her mind. Who had ever heard of a beast with the mind of a man?
There had been rumors of course. She herself had seen the scales at another holding that had reputedly been from a dragon that lived in the earth. It had been as large as her head and colored a brilliant gold tinged with bronze. The pictures of the creatures could be seen everywhere. She could almost forgive her ancestors for believing such lovely creatures had been something more than human. They weren't. They held a primal magic, but that was all. The magic was nothing more than an instinctive reaction to threat, not controlled as mages had shown themselves to be. The fact the Nyseen boasted a Dragon Lord was laughable, but strangely effective when the royal house had started to turn an eye to the conflict. Fools. Afraid of a bygone throw back of a long forgotten age.
"For your sake and your skin I hope this is true. You promised me faster results then this." She gave her head a short shake back and forth. "Jathos' little army is growing, slowly, but steadily. How a shape shifter had managed to control people that squat on the sea shore and gut fish I have no idea. They barely have towns, let alone the ability to muster of the army that keeps getting reported back."
"He's set himself up as a sort of demi-god, why wouldn't they flock to him?" Rogeth shrugged one shoulder as he picked up his own wine glass. "Likely he heard stories of the Nyseen and how they were taken down a few years back."
"And how does one set ones self up to be a demi-god? Or any sort of god? It wasn't so long ago that we were carving out the jungles and most of the people who settled here know what shape shifters are." She snorted in annoyance at the thought. Annoyance, and to some small part of her she could admit jealousy.
"Simply have the strength to back it up. Who is going to tell someone they aren't a god when they've seen men swallowed whole who doubted him?" The man tapped a finger against his glass. "It worked once, no doubt Jathos believes it'll work again. He's mad."
"All shape shifters are!" Tintalia felt her rage surge at the subject. "They've held most of the people here under their thumb since we arrived. They speak in rhymes and riddles, believing themselves the masters of Fate. You haven't lived here long enough or grown up here to know how that is. Peasants are elevated to the status of dukes! Baron's tumbled from their rightful holdings to eke out a living in the mud. They can change shape so they believe that they are above us all and muck about setting the world to their own liking."
Shape shifters. The privileged creatures that had claimed to shape the world. All her life she had heard of how they had given everything they had to ensure the world didn't fall into chaos. She had learned it at her mother's knee as others had in the past. They were above them in much the same way gods were, untouchable, infallible, and, to some rumors, immortal. She had watched as a man had become the lover of one and together they had decimated the interior tribes and brought about the road that led through the continent. It was plain to the trained eye that many of the nobles that had been elevated had been garnering favors from the shape shifter. The same with those that dealt with the more expensive trade items.
They were the power behind any throne, they were the creatures that whispered lies and often times slights against them would lead to destruction of an entire line. She had grown up on the stories of how they had broken away from tyrants, but they had only exchanged one set for another. Jathos was the only example she had ever seen where one made overt moves of their own. It was proof that the resentment she had experienced all her life at creatures that were half animal ruling over her was right. She had enough people's ear that they were listening to the rumors coming from the shore. They had started to question if they could gather that power to themselves and in doing so she could make her influence strongest.
"None have ever gone to the extreme of Jathos." She glared at him and watched him take a sip. The man was unsettling at times, especially when his eyes seemed to look through her rather than at her.
"No, he's honest. He knows what he wants and he's doing his own dirty work. The rest drive others to make their armies and say pretty words about they are chosen above others for their great works." She snorted to herself. "They keep their magic to themselves, but I think soon enough I'll find a way to capture it for my own. The beast minded are the key. That is why Sean is valuable."
"So you've said, m'lady, and so I've agreed." Rogeth's voice seemed to hide laughter. "Though your attempts to garner their powers are entertaining to say the least. The lesser nobles seem to enjoy the parties you throw. Though I must humbly point out that you feel your way with the same superstition you were disparaging just a short while ago."
"That is superstition, this is fact." She allowed her voice to drop an octave. "The beast minded and the shape shifters are both the remnants of a race that you and I both know existed. The way they were created is obvious, though perhaps the dracine aren't as promising as you led me to believe-"
"They are promising, my lady" Rogeth's words were sharp enough that she bristled at their tone. "I swear to you, we will see results. It is only a matter of finding one the latent abilities that we need to harness."
"I hope you're right." She set her glass down with a ringing click on the marble table. The temper that she had been trying to control flared into the forefront of her mind as she stared at the insolent man in front of her. "I've not forgotten the promise you made me, Rogeth, if you go back on it you'll find your flesh going to those promising dracine."
"My Lady, I will promise you. I have never, and will never, go back on a bargain once it is struck." Rogeth's words seemed to ring hollowly as he toyed with his glass. She wasn't sure if it was threat or reassurance.
Human women, the warmth of the ocean air caressing his body and the sweet incense that made him feel nearly heady with pleasure. Jathos could not imagine something as glorious as the moment that he was allowed to savor as he watched the gathering tribes possessively from his spot in the sand. His coiled body was relaxed as the voices were a distant murmur rather than a piercing irritation so that he could entertain himself as he saw fit. Here in the midst of their eyes he could indulge himself. It was expected of him to behave in a manner fit for a god and a lustful god at that. These people praised virility and fertility, and while he might not be able to reproduce with the women around him he could certainly enjoy the motions.
The shore wasn't as opulent or comfortable as the home he had created with his own palace, but movement was necessary. Enough people had picked up on his movements that he knew they were even now following how he gathered a small army around him. A half a dozen tribes of both men trained at sea warfare and those gathered from the fringes of the jungle had readily joined him. It was almost perfect in the fact that he was revered as something more than a mortal creature. They nearly accepted him as a god with his show of slipping into other skins with ease. The rest of his kind had done themselves a disservice in retreating to castles and manors to live out their lives in tutoring others. Conquered people were willing to believe he was something unique rather than from a strain of powerful humans.
When he had first fought battles and tried to guide Fate into a new path the people had fought as one, but now they were scattered and barely recognized the authority of others. He would change that. The world owed him for the years of his life that had been lost and he would take them back. He would unite the continent under his reign and finally open up trade to the north more fully. An empire of his own to rule and guide over. What use had he of stepping back and allowing the glory to fall upon some brave hero? Even now the creatures he had subjugated beneath him honored him as a talisman and leader. They offered him sweet sacrifices to sooth his lusts and rich meat bring him strength. He was almost fond of them in their innocence that a god would stir himself among them. The Riathans had brought that particular 'truth' to the minds of the others. He had only to nod and look wise to ensure that they believed it was true.
His prize was held beneath one claw and he gazed down at her with possessive fondness. Blonde, such a unique color of hair, but her body was nearly as golden! She was short, but curved in such a way that suggested that she would easily bear children. Not that he would tolerate anyone from touching his prize, but it was a pleasing thought when he looked over the broad spread of her hips. Her face was wet with tears as she grasped her small hands around his ankle as if she could push him away. Tears. Sweet tears. He had never realized how he enjoyed them until he saw them helpless beneath his talons. As helpless as that oh so sweet shape shifter he that he had violated in the forest. The sound of her protesting screams the sweetest aphrodisiac that he could imagine.
He coiled his tongue about until he spread his jaws just enough to scrape his teeth against her flesh. She pushed against him harder as he put pressure down against his teeth threatening to tear the skin before releasing it again. She had been given to him as a gift, one of the women found in a small village they had overrun and had dared defy them. Now she was his, his to use and discard. The thought made his slit start to bulge in pleasure as he drew the entire breast into his mouth and suckled around it. His saliva coated her skin as he heard her hiccupping sobs above him and the hands beat against his ankle trying to free herself. The bruises that marred her hips and back attested to the first round he had enjoyed with her, but it was the second that would be even more promising.
"Such tears, pretty one." He crooned down at her with a flick of his tongue to taste the saltiness. "I have given you no reason to cry, have I?"
The liquid language flowed from her lips wasn't one he knew, but he didn't need her response, the fun was in the teasing. He extended his body slightly so that one of his more eager females could stroke her hands along his genital slit. He had ravaged the blonde last night and even now she showed the bruises on her body from his attention to her. She would be sore and aching today, her body abused from his violation. He flicked his tongue out to slip it down to coil around one of her breasts to give it a slow squeeze. The movement pulled it inwards and constricted it until the nipples started to stiffen in reaction. Her words were cut off with a strangled cry as he let his tongue tip tease right over the apex of the stiffened nub.
His tip started to push outwards. His servant, one of the few that served him out of her own free will and desire to be near him. The desire to be a part of his retinue since he had claimed himself a god. He rewarded her with gems and gold, his acolyte who polished is scales and tended his needs. It was her gentle hands that started to coax his girth to slip out. The oil smelled sweetly and erotically of spices that made him shift to his side and then curl his lower body over to enjoy her attentions as he worked on his victims supple breast. His claws drug along her stomach and left welts there as he let out a deep rumbling purr. He could feel his scales flushing with lust and desire as he flexed he moved his other paw down to forcibly part the comely legs and drug upwards towards the apex of her thighs.
"Lord..." He rolled his eyes up to spy Chasath, his General, standing just out of range of his body. A stab of annoyance struck him as he snapped his tongue against his prize's breast with a cracking sound of flesh on flesh. "Please, Lord, a moment only."
"It is not yet noon, what would bring you here to disturb my relaxation?" He lifted his head, though he kept his paw firmly over the writhing female. He could feel his more willing harem girl rubbing her hands against his slit until she had coaxed his tip to disgorging itself for her caresses. "Unless you care to join us?"
He purred the words suggestively as he lifted up the spines that surrounded his head and lifted the frill up. The colors, he knew, were flaring into a deep royal blue with his arousal as he looked over the figure who was dressed in conservative masculine garb. The woman's lips twitched and she gave him an ironic bow and slight shake of her head in denial. Chasath was one of the few that had impressed him with her knowledge of the shore, the people that inhabited it and more importantly the inner lands. She wasn't Ularian or Riathan, but she had made her intent clear to join him in his overthrowing many of the petty dukes and barons and lords that took up much of the land. She came to him and stated plainly that she would work as his general. The blunt words had impressed him, the capability with which she had organized the people had only cemented that impression.
In only a few weeks she had taken the lack luster group to form a formidable group that had been sectioned off and intermingled between various sub groups to force them to interact under a common goal. He had spent many hours discussing his plans with her more plainly then he had spoken to his priests. She had no fear of him or illusions that he was a god, yet that worked in his favor. She could find the weaknesses in his armor and she often reinforced them with well placed rumors. Chasath had spoken plainly that she would aid him and why. Revenge was a reason he understood. Justice another reason. Together they made her an attractive target for his advances, though her rebuffs only served to add fuel to his growing lust for her. It was a game that he savored. The constant denials would make the day he finally pinned her all the more glorious. How delicious to see someone who was so self assured find herself screaming beneath his grasp.
She wasn't beautiful, not in the traditional sense. Her face had high angled cheek bones and slightly slanted almond shaped eyes. Her hair was cut so short that only an inch bristled like a crest on top of her head. Her body was tall, abnormally so, so that she towered over most men and lacked the curves he normally preferred in his females. Instead she had a toned look that spoke of the fact she knew perfectly well how to use her blades. She had often defeated men that she was supposed to train. In the weeks since she had joined him he had found her stronger than most humans. A challenge. Part of him wondered if she would give herself over to him so that he could feel that strong body pliant beneath his own. The other half prayed she didn't so that he could savor every struggle and denial.
"Lord, we need to start to move ourselves inland. A position that your body is not suited for." Chasath's words were soft as she gestured at his long coiled form. It amused him that her eyes were turned away from the woman who was massaging his swelling tip as it pushed outwards. "I would suggest that I send two smaller groups as scouts before the bulk of the people travel with you."
"The shore is a far.. ahhhh... better position for others to join us, mmmm?" He kept his eyes on her deliberately as he made a show of the girth that was pushing out of his slit. Inch by inch it slipped out glistening and pushing against the woman who ran her fingers from base to tip. Her body nestled in close against his under body. The blue of his arousal spread along his throat as he let out a rumble of approval.
"I don't think that's wise, Lord." She kept her eyes from his emerging girth overtly, but Jathos know she couldn't block it out completely unless she turned her head. She was too proud for that. He flexed his claws against his trapped prize making her let out a cry.
"And why not, Chasath?" He caressed her name on the tip of his tongue, turning it into an endearment rather than her name. Her form stiffened slightly making him arch his hips into his female's touch. So that had struck past her indifference!
"I think we're going to be met with more resistance then we can handle if we lounge on the shore while you... " She trailed off and gestured, "Enjoy the pleasures of the flesh."
"Mmm...too true." He lidded his eyes as if thinking. Chasath rarely gave advice that wasn't sound, though he always carefully picked through it for evidence of treachery. "You will remain here then. Those that go will be led by my priests."
He made a show as his hips gave a slow roll. It was a game to him to show himself off. Did she guess that it was only a matter of time before he claimed her? Or did she deny even that obvious thought as each inch of his nubbed curved cock came into view. The tip pulsed sending out a syrupy drop of precum as he felt the hands of his servant massage it over him and spreading it along his girth making him arch his hips and peel his lips back in a soft hiss of pleasure in front of his General's glaring eyes. When he opened them and extended his ear fins and tilted his head to one side to watch her reaction to his command. Would she defy him? Would she give him the reason he needed to replace the writhing woman beneath his claws with her body as he peeled away her armor?
"You believe I would betray you, Lord?" The words came out harshly and he lifted his lids to see her cheeks flushed prettily with her anger. He flicked his tongue out on the air and gave his head a dart forward.
"I believe in myself, My General, and you will send who I have said." He rumbled low in his throat in half threat and half tremor of pleasure as the fingers wrapped around his sensitive tip. "If we meet true resistance I will need your mind here rather than crouched in a tree."
"As you will, Lord." He watched the martial woman's bow and the stiffness of her muscles. He had offended her, but he would not allow his lusts to cloud his mind nor be led about by even a trusted advisor.
As she left Jathos watched her body and wrinkled his lips back. The moment he did he felt his shaft pulse sending a jet of precum against his servant's finger tips to be spread over his glistening girth. He'd peel that woman from her armor and have her beneath him yet. The anticipation would make it more poignant then any virgin freely offered to him. Until then it would be a game. She would assume him more fogged by his lusts for his harem then he was cunning, that allowed him to be in a position unseat her if she ever proved treacherous. He glanced down at the female beneath his claws and spread his jaws open wide with a low rumble as she battled against his foreleg again. She was too short, her hair was too long, but he allowed his mind to envision his General trapped beneath his claw. He lifted himself up on his haunches as his servant pulled away from his hardened cock.
"Now, where were we, my dear?" He crooned down at her softly as her tear streaked face looked at him. He twisted his body around until his tail pushed beneath her body forcing her up against him.
She pleaded in her own language as she shoved against his scales trying to pull away from him, but it was useless. This body was powerful and unable to be defeated by small human hands. He coiled her tongue along her breast and gave it a squeeze as he forced her against his stomach scales and rubbed his slippery cock lewdly along the curve of her ass. His cock tip drug itself back and forth while she jerked and tried to escape. It was delightful, but even more so when he flared his nostrils to taste Chasath's scent on the air. He lifted his eyes to her retreating back as he slipped his hardened cock tip against his servant's bruised and abused folds. It was with her back in his gaze that he started to push his way in and heard the first shrill scream of protest as he violated her again. The torn walls clenched around him so that he let out hiss of pleasure.
He drove himself up hard as his talons wrapped round those broad spread hips and forced her down over his bestial cock. He could see her eyes bulging slightly in not just pain, but denial of being mated by a seeming animal. The sight of it made his cock pulse sending out a hot jet of precum that was soon forced out by his girth as he drove himself up against the torn cervix. Her body gave a jerk against him as he filled her again to the point that her legs straddled his scaled underside. He let the plates along his stomach grind against her for a moment before yanking backwards dragging his cock out violently until his tip popped free with a lewd popping noise. It wasn't until he forcefully impaled her again that her shriek rang out over the beach. His tip battered its way into her womb while he gaped his jaws in a hiss of pure pleasure.
"Yesssssss, sssscream for me." He hissed down at her as he ground his hips against her own harshly. His eyes dilating in pleasure as he felt her spasm in pain around his cock. Sweet ecstasy.
The fever that lapped at Sean's mind left him feeling exhausted and his body felt heavy and sticky beneath the covers that were wrapped around him. He shifted against him uncomfortably and tossed and turned for a moment. He knew that there were people around him, he could vaguely hear movement in the dark each time the cool compress on his head was changed. They occasionally dribbled water between his cracked lips. The rest of the time was spent in fevered dreams where monsters and creatures leapt up to bite at his heels. He had vivid almost erotic dreams of a great creature that courted another winged creature. He dreamt of the drapen and of dracine that howled piteously for freedom from the kennels he had brought them too.
As the cold chill and then heat of his fever lapped over his body he almost welcomed the dreams no matter how tormented they were. He wanted nothing more than to escape the harsh reality of his sickness. His joints ached when he was aware of them and at other times he was horrified to hear himself mewling for something to drink when his throat was parched. He had lost all concept of time. He could have been sick for only a day or for weeks. It seemed that each time he was able to crack his eyes it was black as night save for the small candle by his bed. How could this hell only last a single evening? So when he felt the physical world fade away he grasped at it as a way to escape his tormented body.
He was so hurt. His joints still hurt from the unnatural position he had been in and his stomach snarled in hunger. The smell of food was so close and tantalizing that he yearned to lurch towards it and gorge on the thick muscle and bone that had spilled from the sluice above him. Only a vague sense of control let him stay on his stomach and half dreaming of a time when he would be free. Free. He didn't know what that word meant any more. Would death be freedom? Or to be running again in the jungle? Freedom would be something without bars, humiliation, chains and terror. How had he fallen so far so fast? He who had been the student of a master, he who should have by right controlled the fate of the world by his very existence!
That startled him out of the strange half dream that he had been mulling over and became aware that he was staring at the dank stone of a prison. He could feel the body around him and see the putrid food that was being offered, but he could not move it. He was aware the body was sore and aching. He could smell something that was disturbing and sharp on the scales. A mind was intermingling with his own and flowing with thoughts of humiliation and despair both. She, for he could almost sense the feminine qualities of the mind, wanted nothing more than to starve herself into nothingness. She had not deserved to be caught like this. How long until she felt a man pushing on her back as they had others? How long until she became nothing more than a toy?
The mind wasn't an animal's mind, not quite. It wasn't just emotion, the creature was forming solid thoughts of the future and of the past. Her misery was complete, but in his shared misery of his fever wracked body he seemed to feel it. He nearly merged with her own mind seamlessly as his thoughts meshed and he could feel each hunger pang that she fought against as she stared at her prison. He tried to reach out to make her aware of him, could he? Could she reach back to him with more than just the subtle caress of her thoughts against his own? He pushed against the thoughts a bit more firmly and felt the other presence stir slightly. He could almost touch her thoughts, but her own aching body seemed to hold him back.
He made a lunge forward trying to snag her attention and briefly felt it touch against his mind. It was like a stone skipping across rocks and just as strangely erratic. The moments that their minds touch he felt a sudden rush of fear and confusion that intermingled so perfectly that he momentarily forgot himself. Her mind leaked over his own with understanding and despair that matched his own. She ached to have her pain at an end, he ached to have his fever break. She stared at the confines of her prison, he felt himself locked in place by his situation. Her mind was bright with intelligence that burned against his own, but each time he tried to reach for her thoughts they slipped away again only to surface after a pause. He clutched at the mind desperately as he tried to hold onto the tentative connection.
:Who-?: The words echoed in his mind as something roiled up from the darkness and seized him in the same way a terrier might with a rat.
It felt as if everything had dropped away as something large wrapped around his mind like a set of talons. Something larger, fiercer and inhumane insinuated itself over his thoughts dominating them even as he writhed in that grip. The personality burned like a flame in his mind's eye as he was dragged away from the miserable creature he had shared thoughts with and forced into another place. He tried to shrink away at the sudden burst of hope and welcome that he felt from the creature as he was held in its grip. The welcome though was tainted with something else. Something alien. Unlike the former dream, this mind seemed entirely unhuman as he tried to understand the flood of senses that rolled through him. There was nothing about the emotions that were things he could grasp at. They reveled in his very being.
He felt the flood of warmth that encircled his mind. The creature's loneliness seemed to lap against his thoughts. It had been so long since anyone had heard his voice who could offer him more than empty promises. So long since he had done more than listen to his own thoughts and the yammering of his prison keepers. The touch of another against his mind was like a rainfall after a drought, it soaked into him without the barriers that the Other put against him. He bathed in the regard of one who thought him deadly, beautiful, graceful and exotic. He felt the other mind preen in pleasure that he had been complimented and admired. Strangely the praise seemed as much a need as breathing or eating. It was a desire that had almost gone untended.
It was as if the curtain had been pulled aside to reveal another world entirely. It was no dark prison and his body didn't ache. Instead he became aware that the sun felt good on his scales and the smooth stone radiated the heat up against his stomach as he stretched out his full length. He could feel the weight of his wings spread out to either side to further catch the rays while his head was lifted up to taste the breeze. It was just noon and the scent was alive with flowers that were sweet and fragrant. He could hear small mammals digging in the garden and the softer voices of humans as they walked back and forth out of sight of his enclosure. They didn't dare come into his courtyard, they were afraid of him and well they should be. He had little use for creatures that couldn't hear him no matter how often he tried to get through to them.
Sean found himself tangled in that strange mind that seemed to over power his own. The thoughts flowed past his mind as they chased away the misery of the former mind he had encountered. The feel of the warm sun on his back, the sounds of people moving around him all formed a backdrop of strange comfort. They weren't familiar, but they were normal compared to where his mind had existed in a hellish rise of strange dreams and experiences. Despite his confusion and slight fear at being caught up by something so alien, he felt himself starting to relax. It was like the calm in the midst of the storm that he had been aching for. He started to find himself drifting in the hold of that mind that seemed to revel in the simple fact that he lived, he existed. It strangely adored him simply for being able to understand him. He felt himself sinking down into dreamless sleep clinging to that feeling.
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