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Story Codes: Fantasy, Magic, Violence

For a list of all The God’s Passionate Love, other World of Erasthay stories, maps, and glossaryclick here

Comments are very welcome. I would like all criticism, positive and negative, so long as it’s
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Click here for Chapter 11.

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Stefan Halian

Anger boiled through me. Illina’s body lay crumbled on the ground. Her neck twisted at a horrible angle. My fingers flexed then seized a vial of Ahlona’s pussy cream. I chugged it down and threw it to the floor.

Bryce turned to me, this mad look in his eyes. He held the scissors in his hand as he marched on me. I would find away to destroy him. To rip him to pieces and boil his blood. He would not get away -with killing my mother.

I seized the heat in the room. I pulled it from the atmosphere and concentrated it around him. The air rippled. Roiled. It exploded in fire that engulfed him in an inferno. The flames crackled, dancing high. A bonfire that spilled rippling light across the room.

The three Norns watched, unconcerned.

The threads of my magic snapped. Cut. The flames guttered out. The Lawbreaker strode out, his armor steaming. Swaths of his hair crumbled to ash. Parts of his skin, crisped black from the flames, healed. Pink skin swallowed the burned flesh.

I thrust earth magic into the ground at his feet. Spears of rocks thrust out at him from all directions. Thick spikes. Narrow lances. Deadly blades. He moved too fast. Despite his armor, he flowed around them, moving before they burst up, his eyes tracking the threads of my magic. He could see them thanks to those damned scissors.

The water in the air condensed into a thousand daggers and slashed down at him. He dived forward in his armor. He rolled to his feet, the ice crashing into the stones behind him. He battered one from his face, a shard slashing across his cheek. The wound healed.

“I am the reckoning to make the Gods pay for their crimes,” he growled, marching at me, implacable.

Blades of wind. They slashed at him, unseen.

The scissors snipped. They flashed in his hand as he severed my magic. The Ambrosia animated his body. I could tell it was killing him, but it was also keeping him alive. Giving him the strength, the speed and reflexes, to work faster than my magic could reach him.

He was almost at me. I had to do something.

Ahlona’s pussy juices filled me. She fueled life magic the strongest.

I sent out more power. I conjured a thousand lines of life magic to sap his strength. I surged them at him from all directions. Up. Down. The floor and ceiling. They lanced at him. The scissors flashed, but could he get them all.

One slithered through, passing effortlessly through his armor into his chest. I leeched strength from him. I pumped the brimming energy out of his body for a heartbeat.

SNIP!

More came. He couldn’t slice them all. More attached to his body. My spell siphoned the brimming power of the Ambrosia from him. They sapped at his life. He snarled, his scissors cutting as I kept throwing more tendrils. He severed the ones that reached him. Touched him.

But they slowed him down.

I just had to keep it up. I grabbed another vial of Ahlona’s pussy juices. I gulped it down, adding fuel to my fire. He snarled as he severed my magic so fast. The scissors blurred as they moved. The Ambrosia gave him so much energy.

A vast sea of it.

“I don’t know how you are alive, boy!” spat the maddened bastard. “But I am not failing when I have come this far. I will make him pay!”

“For cuckolding you?” I demanded, putting all the mocking derision I could into my tone. I sneered at him.

“He seduced your mother and turned her into a whore!” he snarled back.

“She was a woman. Nothing more!” I glared at him, weaving more life magic to thrust at him. More tendrils to sap a bit of strength here and there. “You claimed to love her. So—”

“I did love her!” he roared. His voice echoed at me. His eyes blazed with rage.

“Then why did you kill her?” The rage swelled through me. “Why did you murder the woman you loved?”

“Because she was tainted! Ruined by Pater’s foul cock. I fixed her. When I die, she’ll be waiting for me in the Astral Realm. Your mother will welcome me with open arms.”

Madness cracked in his voice. He slogged forward, slowed by my attacks, but he marched with resolution, the scissors sniping at the magic as fast as I could send it at him. I pulled out another vial, downing it.

“When you die?” I demanded. His words confused me. Sickened.

“Lagu will come for me for tricking her. She gave me the power to punish the Lawbreaker. She didn’t realize it was Pater. She’s cloaked me in her promise. She hid me from all the other gods. She hates me, but she gave me her word. Of the Gods, she only broke her Law once! ONCE! Once Pater is dead, my pact with Lagu will end. I will die.”

“You’re mad,” I spat. “You think my mother will welcome you after you beat her to death?”

“Yes! She knows I saved her. Pater corrupted her with his seed. He destroyed her flesh. Twisted her into a whore! I set her free. Your mother will welcome me with open arms. You should be thanking me, boy, for freeing her from what your putrid father did to her.”

“You think she’ll welcome you after you murder her son?” I snarled as he came closer. He was almost at me. “You are the biggest fool in the universe. No wonder Pater cuckolded you. I bet he made love to my mother so many times before you caught them.”

“What?”

“The entire time you knew my mother, she was his lover!” I fixed eyes on him. I held up the rainbow amulet that my mother wore. “She was always his, wasn’t she? Oh, I bet she loved cuckolding you!”

Fury crossed his face. Murder blazed in his eyes. I surged every ounce of life magic I had at him. I snaked it all at his flesh. It had to be enough to get through to him. To stop him. With a snarl, he surged at me in a burst of speed, scissors slashing. He cut the threads and reached me in an eye blink.

His hand seized me by the throat. His gauntlet-clad fist choked off my air. He slammed me down on the ground. Air burst from my head. My head cracked into the stone. Pain burst. A wave of fuzz washed across my expression.

“I saved her from degradation. I liberated your mother from the whorish rites of Slata. She renounced the priesthood and became only mine. She swore a sacred vow to me. Before Luben. She swore to have only me, and then Pater came in and despoiled her. When he finished with your mother, he had hollowed her out. He had left something foul and disgusting in her place. I should have killed her that day. Cut you out of her belly and set her free.

“I was a coward.”

I spat in his face.

“Today, I avenge her. Deana Cartith will know that the guilty was punished. She shall await me, boy. ME!”

Movement flickered to my left. My eyes flicked in that direction to witness the impossible.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Illina

It hurt to move. My neck was twisted at a horrible angle. The spine severed. It took all my effort to stand, my nervous system going haywire. The gears in my skull whirred, battling to send signals through my body.

If I were human, I would be dead, but I wasn’t. My heart still pumped with its rhythm, the machine thudding away uncaring that my head was twisted to the side. I grabbed it and forced myself to look ahead.

Broken bone ground together.

I clenched teeth against the pain. My eyes focused on Bryce. He had Stefan pinned to the stone. This was my chance. I grabbed the discarded dagger and forced myself to strand on shaky legs. My body twitched. Spasmed.

Molars ground on molars. I raised my body, fighting through the pain. I would get only one shot at this. I focused on that bastard. He was still, his hand chocking Stefan. I focused on the side of his face. One nick with Dauthaz’s dagger.

I hurled it.

Stefan’s head moved.

Bryce threw a look at me as the dagger flashed at him. It hurtled towards him so slow. The agony in my neck buckled my knees. I howled and collapsed as his arm swung forward. He raised his metal vambrace.

The dagger struck his armor and bounced clear of his face.

“NOOOOOO!” I sobbed as it spun away.

I’d failed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stefan Halian

The dagger tumbled away. Bryce threw back his head and laughed his mad triumph.
I surged out air magic and grabbed the dagger. I slammed it back at Bryce as fast as I could. He twisted, letting go of my throat. He thrust his scissors up and cut the magic leading to the dagger. He severed my control.

But Dauthaz’s blade still hurtled at the bastard. The tip gleamed. Then it ripped across his face. It struck his cheekbone, digging a furrow before bouncing to the side and hitting the floor. It was a superficial wound. It wouldn’t stop Bryce even if he wasn’t brimming with Ambrosia.

But the wound didn’t heal. It bled. Crimson spilled down his throat as a silence descended on the world. Bryce’s shout of fright snuffed out. His mouth opened wide. His eyes stared at horror at the bloody blade lying on the ground nearby.

Fear.

Pure terror spilled across his face. I couldn’t hear anything. Not even my own blood screaming through my ears. The three Norns all bowed as the air behind Bryce rippled like a curtain blowing in a breeze.

Death stepped through it.

The robed form of Dauthaz, God of Death, appeared behind Bryce. I stared at the expression of sadness, even regret, that was on the surprising youthful face of the reaper. He swung his scythe before him. The spectral blade swept into Bryce’s side.

The bastard, the monstrous murder of my mother, screamed in silent terror as the scythe slashed through his armor like it wasn’t even there, a shadow of protection. His body jerked as the weapon ripped his soul out of his body. A spectral Bryce appeared, naked and thrashing, hooked by the scythe and pulled to the God of Death’s free hand.

Dauthaz embraced my mother’s killer. Tears spilled down Death’s cheeks. Then he stepped back through the unseen curtain.

Bryce’s corpse crashed dead beside me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sir Bryce Cartith

“Nooo!” I screamed but no sound came from my lips.

The icy touch of death caught me. A hard yank. I flew back and…

Saw my own body. The back of my head. My back. That couldn’t be me, but there was the blood streaming down my cheek. Then Death’s arm was around me. I stared in fright at the young, sorrowful eyes of Dauthaz.

“I am sorry, Bryce Cartith,” Dauthaz said as he stepped back.

A rippling curtain swept over me. The world faded as I thrashed and screamed. I wasn’t ready to die. I had too much to do. Pater had to die. That was my destiny. It was why Cutter had given me her scissors. She wanted me to punish the Lawbreaker.

“Send me back!” I bellowed. “Please! He has to pay!”

“Justice is not for you to dispense,” Dauthaz said. “I am so, so sorry. You have been judged, Bryce Cartith. No eternity in paradise. Damnation awaits you. You have betrayed oaths. Committed foul deeds. Plotted heinous acts.”

“To PUNISH the greatest Lawbreaker of all!” I howled. “If there is any justice in this world, than Pater must pay.”

“Betrayer!” a woman snarled. “Murderer!”

I knew that voice. My head snapped around. In the gray emptiness Dauthaz strode through, dragging my soul with him, stood a woman. Tall and proud and beautiful. My Deana. Rage blazed in her eyes. Fury trembled her body.

“You foul, disgusting monster!” she howled.

“Deana?” Why wasn’t she welcoming me with love. She was waiting for me. I knew it the moment I freed her. “I didn’t avenge you. I’m sorry. But we’re finally tog—”

“Avenge me?” She laughed in mocking derision. “You murdered me. After you threw me from your home. After you beat me out of your jealous fury.”

“That wasn’t you any longer! I had to save you. I was a coward that day. But I found the courage to set you free.”

“Free? You putrid, rotten man! You didn’t free me! You were just jealous. You thought you owned me. I realized that day that you never loved me.”

“I always loved you!” I roared back. “You have dwelled in my heart. I wore our locket. I have never forgotten you.”

“If you had loved me, then you would have understood. Pater is a God. A GOD! No woman could resist him. I gave up every mortal man. Wasn’t that enough?”

“No!” I roared. “You are mine!”

“No longer,” she sneered and ripped her own Lubenite amulet from her neck. She hurtled at me. It struck my face and burned like a brand. It stuck to me, sizzling. My soul screamed in agony. A vicious smile spread on her lips.

Full of hatred.

Then she vanished.

The God of Death dragged me on thrashing in torment. One more figure watched. Arms folded. A smirk on her face. Alloria. Her eyes tracked me as I passed her. Then she vanished into the gray. The world grew red. Fires blazed. Fear swelled in me. Damnation. Eternal torment. Pater had taken everything from me. I just wanted my Deana back. I wanted to love her. To hold her. For her to be pure once more.

“This is my least favorite part, Bryce Cartith,” Dauthaz said. He thrust me out over a lake of boiling blood. “No god claims you. All want you punished instead. Your soul is too diseased. You would spoil the paradise of the Astral Realm. You have spurned your reward. You have wasted all chances for redemption. Of putting aside your vengeance. Instead, you drove yourself deeper and deeper into brutality.

“Goodbye, Bryce Cartith.”

The God of Death released me. I fell screaming, the amulet searing my face. I crashed into the boiling water and thrashed with the other Lawbreakers boiling for eternity. We were cooked in the pain of every crime we had committed. The agony of my actions roasted my body.

The mistakes of my life cooked my eternal soul.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Monica Leywife

I wept.

I clutched my belly and wept over the corpse of Bryce. Emotions more complicated than I could understand rushed through me. I loved Bryce and now I hated him. Part of me grieved him. Another triumphed.

“You monster!” I howled, my voice choked by the pain. Tears spilled down my face. I slammed my fist on his breastplate. It rang. “Why? Why did you do this? Kill all my friends? The man I would marry? For what? So you could die here? You hurt so many people for nothing!”

Memories of loving this terrible man ripped at my soul. I was such a fool. I leaned over him, the keening wail moaning from my throat. It burned, the tears raining down across his armor. I hugged myself.

“You will never hurt my baby!” I spat on his face. “NEVER!”

Around me, Stefan moved. He did something to his angel. She groaned and rose, her broken body repairing itself. Then Illina gasped. A loud crack as her spine straightened. I lifted my red-rimmed eyes to Stefan. He stood strong and powerful.

He had saved me.

Now he saved the others.

The Norn appeared. Cutter. She bent down and picked up her scissors. “If he had paid attention,” the demigoddess said, “he would have seen Pater’s cord continued on past this moment. He would have known his plan had failed before he ever started.”

I stared at her as she went back to her sisters. Already, Spinner drew new threads and Weaver worked the loom again. They didn’t care that any of this had happened. I shuddered, gutted. Hollowed out. Worse than when the goblins attacked my Temple.

I staggered from the bastard. He had caused so much harm. My gaze turned to the door. To poor Alloria. I stumbled to her. She had changed those last few weeks. She had come to realize what was important. It wasn’t fair.

None of this was.

I sank to my knees beside her and carefully pulled the strands of hair from her beautiful face, the blue faded so pale. Then Illina sank down beside me. The thief put her arm around my shoulder. I slumped into her.

“I know,” Illina said. “He’s dead, but it doesn’t undo any of his crimes.”

I shook my head.

Ahlona hugged me from behind. The angel’s arms slid around me. Her hands cupped my belly. Then Stefan stood over me. I glanced up at him. For a moment, he looked so much like his divine father. My breath caught.

He held out his hand.

“What do we do now?” I asked him.

He smiled. “Live. You have your child—my sibling—that makes us family, Monica.”

I took his hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Illina – The Free City of Hargone

I sauntered off the deck of the River Whisper into the desert city. The white, mud-brick buildings had an austere beauty about them. Everything was bleached by the sun on the outside, but it made me wonder what was on the inside.

I itched to find out.

I had such ideas for the heists I could pull here. The riches I could purloin. I rubbed my belly. In my womb, I could feel my daughter being built bit by bit, using Barg’s cum that I had stored in me. A wave of grief washed through my nervous system, my heart’s rhythm skipping for a moment.

I swallowed it down as I rubbed my belly. “I wish you were,” I said up to the blue sky. “To see our daughter.”

I pictured my Barg standing strong. Proud. I bet he could see me. Didn’t they say that? Your loved ones watched over you from the Astral Realm or some nonsense like that. My smile broadened as I felt the hot sun on my face.

“She’s going to be an amazing thief, Barg.” I smiled. “You hear that, Mother? She’s going to be even better than both of us combined. Your granddaughter is going to steal the world. You’ll see. She’ll be way more famous than that Minx.”

I smiled at that. Raising a daughter to be the world’s greatest thief would be such a grand adventure.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leywife Monica – The Temple of Lily, The Kingdom of Secare

My pregnant belly thrust out before me as I cooked breakfast in the makeshift kitchen on the outskirts of the temple. It was a simple affair, made of stone fused together by magic. Stefan had constructed it in a day, needing to drink pussy cream from Ahlona and myself over and over to fuel it.

I hummed as I flipped the bacon with my spatula. A month from the Black Spire, and I was feeling my child moving. He or she would have a wonderful father. Stefan would see that his half-brother grew up loved and happy.

We both would be.

I glanced outside at the tents. Others had come to help Stefan rebuild the temple. Priests, their wives, and women making the pilgrimage to lie with a Son of Pater. To have a demigod’s child. Some of them brought their husbands to be with them as they were bred by Stefan.

He took the job very seriously. Often, I joined them, letting the wife eat my pussy or the husband experience the joy of my pregnant pussy. Stefan wasn’t a jealous man like him. I wasn’t sure if it was love growing between us, but it was certainly friendship.

I wished Illina hadn’t left, but she had crimes to commit. She boasted about the greatest scheme yet, though she wouldn’t talk about it.

I smiled as I dished up the food, humming to myself. I stepped outside. Summer was coming to an end. I gazed out at the temple, nibbling on a slice of bacon. It was coming along nice. Stefan’s magic quarried marble from the mountains and brought it back. He had such strength.

The Temple would stand once more. My home. I would raise my son here with Stefan and Ahlona. One day, my child would be the one the women flocked to lie with. He would be a grand hero. A good man. I could see his future stretched out bright and happy.

In the sky, a rainbow appeared. The brilliant colors each the perfect embodiment of their hues were all broken from Pater’s divine light. They spilled across the world. All different but all the same. Just like people. I rubbed at my belly and smiled.

“Your father loves you,” I cooed to my unborn son. Joy suffused me, the pain fading. I had survived. Endured. And I would prosper.

I hoped Bryce knew that as he suffered damnation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Stefan Halian

I settled the next stone in place, lining it up perfectly. The temple was almost complete. It had been four months now since the Black Spire. Monica was growing quite round with her pregnancy. It wouldn’t be long before she delivered my half-brother.

I think I would ask her to marry me. To be my second wife. She was a rather remarkable woman. Fun. Naughty. Loving. She had a heart so big. She had weathered the worst betrayal imaginable and still smiled.

And she didn’t mind all my admirers. A group of women watched, all wanting to be ready to provide me with fresh pussy juices if I needed it, all waiting for the right moment to be bred by my cock.

How many children would I have?

I stretched my back as I released my magic. I did need to top off my reserve of power. I glanced at the women. They were all gorgeous. Most were Secaran, but a few azure-skinned beauties from Valya and even a red-skinned Thlinian stood among them. The word was spreading about me. They were coming from further and further away.

Wings flapped. Ahlona descended down beside me, her gold chastity belt gleaming about her waist. She settled down beside me, her breasts swaying. They were so round and perky. I swear they were a little larger then they were a month ago.

She rubbed at her stomach.

“I think I’m gaining weight,” she said, sounding shocked.

I stared at her belly. She had a slight curve to it. I frowned. It was subtle. “I didn’t think your body changed. You don’t eat. Your immortal.”

“I know,” she said. She bit her lip, sounding concerned.

I used the last of the reserve of power in me to send probing tendrils of life magic into her. I slipped through her stomach and blinked as I felt something pulsing in her. Another life grew inside of her belly. My jaw dropped as I felt around it. A baby.

She was pregnant with my child.

How? Angels didn’t have children. The immortal races rarely did. They didn’t need to be able to reproduce, and yet there was a child growing in her and…

There was an enchantment around the child. From Lagu.

“That wily shaman,” I said in shock.

“What?” Concern flashed across Ahlona’s face. “Is there something wrong with me.”

“You’re pregnant.”

She blinked. “No, I’m not. Angels don’t get pregnant.”

“Well, that’s our baby growing inside of you.”

She stared down at her stomach. I pressed my hand against her. Then both of hers covered mine, holding me to her belly. Her wings flapped. She looked up at me, her diamond eyes so wide. They trembled, vulnerable and open. They were even scared.

Then they burst with joy. Her wings fluttered. “We made a baby?”

I smiled, nodding. I rubbed my hand across her stomach. “Yes, we did. The night in the tribesmen when the Shaman gave you that concoction that made you so horny so you could draw out the curse on me.”

“She said it wouldn’t affect me,” Ahlona said. “That the curse was being pulled into me but wouldn’t harm me.”

“It was pulled into your womb,” I said, understanding. “Her magic let us start a new life.”

Anger flashed across Ahlona’s face. “Our baby is cursed? That’s where she put it.”

“Yeah.” My brow furrowed. “But it doesn’t matter. The curse only lets one man harm our baby and he’s dead. It won’t do anything else to our child. She’ll never know.”

“She?”

“She,” I said, smiling. “We’re going to have a daughter, Ahlona.”

Her arms flew around me. Her lips met mine. I shuddered in her embrace, kissing my angel. Her wings held me tight. I savored the feel of her against me. The watching women were all clapping and cheering and crying for joy.

“What?” Monica asked.

I broke the kiss and glanced over at the pregnant leywife, her brown hair in a pair of braids. Her hands clutched her stomach. She glowed with the new life in her. Ahlona would look like Monica in a few months.

“Our family’s getting even bigger,” I said, holding out my hand to Monica.

She gasped, “Ahlona?”

I nodded.

Then Monica was in the embrace, too, her pregnant belly pressing against us. Her lips joined Ahlona’s on mine. We held each other, loved each other. Six months ago, I thought myself a failure. Too weak to do anything.

Now I knew I had the strength to face anything. To support my wives, my children. Ahlona, Monica, and I would build something amazing here. I could feel it. I held them both to me, loved them both, and knew that our futures would be bright.

Pater’s passion had brought us all together. Now it was time for our passion to create something just as lasting.

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