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Story Codes: Fantasy, Magic

For a list of all The Rogue’s Harem, 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
constructive, and feedback is very appreciated.

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Click here for Chapter 8.

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Note: Thanks to WRC 264 for beta reading this!

Kora Falk

The faerie’s magic washed away my exhaustion before we mounted the pegasi to fly to Princess Siona’s home. In an eye blink, I went from feeling like I had just had a long day of walking, fighting, and fucking (which I did) to the feeling that I had the most restful night sleep.

They had such amazing powers.

I flew beside Sven, Princess Siona on his other side, marveling at the beauty of Faerie. It was hard to remember the stakes of our mission when traveling over rivers made of flowing gold or lakes that glittered like diamonds. We flew over forests that held different hues of trees, some with broad, violet leaves, others were great conifers with azure needles looking almost covered in ice. Fields of colorful flowers, of grains that sparkled like the stars. We flew over villages and towns, built of sparkling materials, roads paved of silver, roofs tiled in sapphires or rubies. They flitted around naked, singing, dancing through the air, making love as they drifted on the winds. They had such a zest for life.

And the art…

There were great hills carved into intricate statues, or gardens of flowers planted to make mosaics that could only be appreciated from the air. Others painted with hues on the very winds themselves, channeling them and making swirling patterns of pastels writhe together to make the impression of lovers dancing or kissing or fucking.

I saw hues here that I didn’t know the names of, gradients of color that, perhaps, could only exist in this strange world. My fingers itched to hold the brush. It had been so long since I properly painted anything. A year of being hunted, of freeing slaves, of skulking in taverns had denied me one of my passions. Only when illusions were needed, did I paint at all.

And those were practical images. No imagination. No letting my muse speak to me.

“Wow!” Zanyia gasped behind me.

I threw a look over my shoulder. She and Nathalie flew on either side of Ealaín, the aoi si resplendent in her armor, her ebony face highlighted by the crimson moon shining down on us, her silver pauldrons reflecting glittering stars. Beyond them soared the soldiers, Aingeal in the middle. Her head hung, she looked despondent.

She didn’t believe Sven could seduce and please Queen Sidhe?

“That is where we’re going?” Zanyia asked. “Do you see that Master?”

Her words flowed past me as I studied Aingeal. Why did she think Sven would fail? He knew how to please a woman like he’d trained in the sexual arts at the Temple of Rithi, or learned from the Priests of Pater all their techniques of seducing and pleasing women they knew. He was an auteur at it, a savant at making women quiver and moan. He instinctually knew what others had to be trained upon. My pussy grew juicy just thinking about how he’d loved me.

And Aingeal knew this. She’s experienced his passion.

Worry seized my heart. I thought Sven would impress Queen Sidhe the same way he’d done with her daughter. How could he fail to please her? Was there something… particular that Queen Sidhe demanded in her lovers.

I had to talk to Aingeal.

“Is that all made of crystal?” Sven asked.

“Yes,” Siona said. “Behold the glory that is Danaan, the capital of the Faerie.”

“Kora,” Sven said, “can you believe this?”

“What?” I asked, my head sweeping around to look… “Rithi’s blessed art!”

My eyes widened at the crystal city on the horizon. It grew larger and larger as we hurtled closer on the pegasi. The wind blew at my blonde braids as I drank in the grandeur before me. Great spires of silvery glass rose into the air, reflect the vagary hues of the moons shining upon it. As we came closer, I spotted smaller growths, jutting spars of faceted beauty thrusting off the greater towers.

It didn’t look so much as built as grown, carefully nurtured by the faerie, guiding the crystal into the shapes to form their buildings and city. I wanted to paint it. I struggled to capture it in my mind so I could recreate it.

And knew I could never come close to capturing its majesty.

It was too immense for a human to reproduce. Too intricate. We reached the outskirts, the smaller residences that glowed from the inside, the lights by which the residence saw inside their homes. The crystals thrust from the ground at different angles, almost looking chaotic, but there was purpose in everything. Buildings complimented each other. The vary randomness of its layout reveled the deliberate design to make every place you looked different and enthralling.

At its heart, burnished yellow glowed like a frozen dawn. Instead of silver, golden glass soared. These crystals were delicate, making slender spires, almost fluted. Faerie darted around them. Music rose around us, a thousand voices singing a complex harmony. Constructs made of twisted veins, like destroyed Cú Mheá, pranced through gardens of lesser crystals growing around the buildings. Some were feyhounds, but there were feyhinds, feybears, feycougars, and more. A menagerie of created beings that played below.

“The Palace of Danaan,” breathed Siona. “My mother’s grand court. Here did Aingeal commit her heinous crime against my mother.”

As we flew through the palace’s spires, the golden facets glimmered like mirrors. Reflections looked back at us, broken into eternities. It made me grow dizzy as our pegasi spiraled downward; she knew just where to go.

I almost swooned with the dizzying beauty around me. My head kept whipping around, drinking in new sights. I heard even my brother gasping in awe, overwhelmed by the immensity of this place. The spires reached hundreds of feet into the air, taller than any structure built in our world.

Faerie flitted around us as we landed. Some were servants, taking the Pegasus away, while others were bedecked in too many jewels to be anything but noble and courtiers. None wore clothing. Male faeries had jeweled cock rings either piercing their tips or worn around the bases, and about their arms they wore glittering torcs. The women were adorned with necklaces and ring and bracelets. They had pierced lips, noses, nipples, bellybuttons, clits, and labia. Some had strings of jewels adorning their hair, making them sparkle like the starry sky as they drifted around us.

I dismounted my pegasus, grateful to stand on the courtyard. Until I looked down. And saw myself reflected back up in the golden surface. I could see up my robe, my naked pussy wet between my thighs.

“By the gods,” Sven groaned. “How?”

“It took three thousand years to grow Danaan,” Siona said with such pride. “Generations labored to build it for our Queen, a home fitting for the first of us.”

The number made my brain hurt. Three thousand years… The High King died two hundred years ago, and that felt like such a huge amount of time… How could Sven impress this Queen Sidhe if she was so ancient?

I had to speak with Aingeal.

“My mother awaits us,” Siona said after conferring to a slim, male fey with periwinkle hair and soft-blue wings. “My messenger arrived. She has granted you an audience, Sven, to plead on behalf of Aingeal.” Siona squeezed my brother’s hand. “If you can manage to please my mother, she may be merciful.”

“I heard a lot of conditionals in there,” growled Sven.

“You can do it, Master,” Nathalie said.

“Yes!” Zanyia purred. She knelt before him and nuzzled her face into his thigh. “I believe in you, Master.”

So did I.

Only a few soldiers formed up around Aingeal. She stood with her head lowered, hands manacled behind her. Her large tits swayed as one of the soldiers prodded her forward with the haft of a bronze spear.

But would they let me get close to her? Prisoners often weren’t allowed to speak to others. I’d have to find a way to distract them. I wanted to use my illusions, but I learned that faerie were too good at seeing through what I crated. While I was skilled with my art, they lived and breathed such deceptions. Not only were they birthed of the God of Lust, but of the Goddess of Crime. Trickery and lies formed them as much as carnal desires.

I would need something else to distract them. Just for a moment. Could I use the sex slaves? No, there were five guards. Zanyia and Nathalie could pull away one or two each, but that would still leave at least one guarding her.

“Let’s not keep Mother waiting,” Siona said with a flutter of her purple wings. “She is not a patient being.”

Sven strode beside the princess, marching with his confident strut into the palace. Zanyia and Nathalie followed after him. Ealaín loomed up beside me, somehow not making a sound despite the full plate armor she wore. Her midnight-black face was fat, expressionless.

“You are not confident in my brother’s success?” I asked, my mind still working on the problem of speaking to Aingeal.

“Are you?”

“I need to speak to Aingeal,” I said as I followed after, Ealaín pacing me.

“Then talk to her,” the aoi si said, her words direct.

“She’s surrounded by the guards.”

“And?”

“And…” I frowned, struggling for a reason why that wouldn’t work. “I… Huh… I guess I could just talk to her.”

“Sometimes you humans over complicate things by thinking too much,” Ealaín said.

It really couldn’t be that simple, could it? I glanced back at the guards leading Aingeal. Well, I could just try. I slowed my pace, letting them catch up at me. The lead soldier came abreast with me, glancing at me once. He gave me a flirty smile.

I returned it with an arched eyebrow. He did have a beautiful face…

Then he was past me and I found myself walking beside Aingeal. None of the soldiers seemed to care. So I nudged my wingless faerie-wife with my elbow. Her big boobs jiggled as she blinked and looked up at me.

“You’re not confident Sven will please Queen Sidhe,” I whispered, still feeling like the guards would object to what we spoke about.

“She will require his utter submission,” Aingeal said. “If he is at all defiant, if he tries at all to seize control like he normally would, she will be offended. She has ruled for five thousand years. Our people follow her whim. She is the only one of us left who remembers Cernere. Queen Sidhe created this world. No one has ever defied her. Not even when my prank backfired did I disobey her command. She had no idea I put the iron dust there, but when she ordered the miscreant who did it to come forward, I did. Sven…”

“Isn’t one to be submissive,” I said, my heart clenching. My brother seized women. His domination is partly what made him so sexy. He made you feel so womanly when he just seized you and took what he wanted while at the same time giving you what you craved. “I’ll warn him.”

“Will it be enough?”

My heart clenched as ahead grand, crystalline doors were thrown open onto an opulent room. At the far end a regal fey sat upon a throne. She carried herself with the majesty of eons, a soul so ancient that she transcended everything else around her, a true demigoddess holding court.

“I don’t know,” I said, my heart squeezing. Could Sven be utterly obedient… “He’ll try.”

Aingeal gave a sad nod, her shoulders sagging. Sven would try to submit, but…

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 10.

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