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Story Codes: Fantasy, Magic, Violence

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 22.

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Note: Thanks to WRC 264 for beta reading this!

Aingeal

The spirits surged through Kora. I could feel them working to heal her wound. Her convulsions slowed. The froth stopped bubbling from her lips. Her eyes closed. She let out a soft exhale. Her blood no long pumped out of her, staining my hand.

“That’s it,” I said as the spirits danced in and out of her body. “They’re fixing you. Okay?”

Kora let out a soft groan.

I nodded my head, my back muscles twitching. “You’re doing great. It’ll be fine.”

“Aingeal…” muttered Kora, her eyes moving beneath her closed lids.

“Yes, yes, you’re almost fixed.” She could feel the spirits of enhancement scouring through her body. The final trembles faded from her body. “There. Just take a moment, Kora. You’re going to be fine.”

Kora didn’t answer. But her chest rose and fell with regular breathing. The spirits zoomed out of her body in streaks of green. I sank back, my rump resting on the heels of my feet. I looked around, gasped at the sight of Sven and Ealaín battling a figure of shadows. Lances shot and stabbed and thrust at the two warriors, keeping them at bay.

I gasped at what I saw dancing in the shadows. “A witch?”

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Sven Falk

“Las’s putrid cum!” I snarled, holding my right hand behind me, using my arm as a counterbalance as I parried with my short sword. I backed off of the shadowy form, the spears of darkness seeking my flesh.

The form made no sound. No grunts or growls. No curses or taunts. Just deadly silence. The flowing darkness just tried to kill us. How could I close the distance? It had such great reach. My blade was so short compared to the knifing spears it made. They were twice the length of my arm.

“How do we stop shadowmancing?” I shouted at Ealaín.

“There is a way,” Ealaín said.

“What is it?” Ignoring the throbbing pain of my broken finger, I pulled a throwing dagger from my bandoleer. I sucked in a breath as I gripped it awkwardly.

I flicked my wrist. I winced at the clumsy toss. My throwing dagger tumbled through the air. The shadows flowed out of its path. Ealaín, standing on the other side, swung her war hammer and deflected the weapon before it struck her body.

Then she charged in and swung her ax in great, scything arcs, cutting at the shadows. She severed through inky tendrils. They melted into mist before her. The form merely flowed back from her and kept thrusting. When it passed over shadows on the ground, they rippled and writhed, drawing into the growing mass.

Feeding whatever it lost.

“Ealaín, what is the way?” I shouted and thrust at the figure.

A lance shot out at my head. I ducked it, going into a crouch and plunging my sword upward at the figure. Part of the shadows hardened into a shield. My sword struck it. The tip embedded into it like I hit wood. My blade quivered. I ripped it free and tumbled back as stabbing spears sought my flesh.

“Ealaín! How?”

“Not yet!” she bellowed, war hammer and ax swinging before her, double arcs that swept aside attacks from reaching her.

I drew another throwing dagger in an agonized grip. Ealaín had a way to beat this attacker. If she wouldn’t speak it, it meant she didn’t want to tip off the attacker. I needed to aid her. I had to watch her and follow her lead.

She closed on the figure. It flowed back. I had to give her an opening to land her attack. This might be it. I gripped the dagger tight, ignoring the grinding pain in my broken finger. I concentrated, sweat breaking out across my face.

I threw it as hard as I could.

It tumbled end over end. The figure noticed it. The shadows stopped flowing, letting the dagger flash before it instead of retreating into its path. It was a brief halt to his movement, only a heartbeat of distraction, but it was enough for Ealaín to close the distance.

I charged in after my dagger. We could pen it in. Cut it down. The shadow rippled as Ealaín bellowed. She sounded like a fierce warrior, a charging bull bringing death sweeping down at the figure.

A thick spear, wider than my arm, thrust from the center of the mass of shadows. The surface rippled and ran towards the extending attack lunging right at Ealaín. Her war hammer swept around, blurring silver, and slammed into the new attack.

Rebounded.

“No!” she gasped.

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Ealaín

The thick lance of darkness struck my breastplate where it covered my stomach. My armor rang like a gong. Metal crumpled. The air exploded from my lungs as I stumbled back. The world blurred around me. I hit the ground.

I coughed, gasped. Waves of agony washed out of my stomach. My eyes fluttered. My hands flexed over nothing. What happened? I tried to suck in a breath, my lungs expanded. Something crushed my chest and stomach, squeezing so tight I could only inhale a fraction of what I needed. Stars danced across my vision. Darkness fuzzed at the edges. My head swam.

Sven cursed.

I struggled to lift my head and peer down my body at…

“Oh… no…” I wheezed.

The blow had concaved my armor. The dented metal pressed on my stomach, on my solar plexus. It squeezed about my breasts and put pressure on my ribs. They creaked as I sucked in another short inhalation. Dizziness washed over me. My hands clenched on nothing. I had to get the armor off.

I fought against the waves of sluggish thought that swept through me. I needed to breathe. My mind screamed for it. My lungs burned to be filled. I sucked in another breath through my nostrils and…

Agony crushed my torso.

“Rithi’s… per… fect… art…”

My fingers found the straps of my breast plate. The leather had pulled taut, stretched by the distortions to my armor. I fumbled at it, struggling to gain any slack so I could unbuckle them. I whimpered, pulling at the leather with all my—

“Gods!” I screamed. Pulling the strap taut put so much pressure on my stomach. I couldn’t suck in any breath. I kept pulling at it. I had to relieve the pressure.

My hands released the straps. The world spun around me. My eyes fluttered as I lay their on the ground. I needed to do something. To stop this. What? So hard to think. I sucked in another breath, crushing breasts and ribs to fill lungs with air.

A moment of clarity. Kora. I needed to inspire Kora.

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Princess Ava

I clutched at the grass as Sven fought the shadows alone. He retreated away from the fallen aoi si. She lay in a crumpled, twitching heap, her dark face twisted with grimaces of pain. I squirmed my stone body. What could I do to help Sven?

He couldn’t fight the shadow on his own. It was too fast. Had too many attacks. Eventually, my betrothed would take a blow like Ealaín had. Only he didn’t have her armor to protect him. Those lances would skewer through his flesh.

“Pater, no,” I moaned. “Father of the Gods, defend your son from this monster.”

I had to do something. Anything. But what? I was just a princess. I didn’t know how to fight. I didn’t have any skill with the sword or spear. I didn’t know how to move and dodge and weave like Sven did. He moved with such grace as he retreated. His sword slashed with his left hand. His right, fingers twisted and broken, clutched a dagger in an awkward grip. He threw it hard.

The shadow flowed around the knifing dagger.

What could I do? I was just inhabiting my…

My stone body. Rose quartz was strong. It was heavy. I touched the enchantment the twinborn witch Fiona put on my proxy. The world shrunk around me as I swelled. The blade of grass I clutched like a scared maid dropped away. I soared to my real height as I sprang at the shadows.

I wasn’t here. This wasn’t my real flesh. I had nothing to fear. “Sven!”

The shadows rippled. I could feel something cold, malevolent, considering me as I rushed at the inky thing. I would protect my Sven. I would be his shield. His armor. I would keep those lances from finding his flesh.

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Zanyia

My head rang from the blow. I stumbled on the ground, my toes and fingers digging through the loamy soil. Dried pine needles pricked at the soles of my feet. My tail swished as my ears pricked, trying to figure out where Hithina was.

“You’re remembering the punishment kennels, aren’t you?” Hithina taunted.

Her voice floated from my right. I whirled and swiped in that direction.

Hit nothing.

“Do you feel the metal walls closing in on you? How they grew hotter and hotter as the day’s sun warms the iron. The air growing stuffy. Your tail trapped, unable to swish? Huh, Zanyia? Alone in the smothering night? Is it making your heart pound?”

“No!” I hissed. “The nagas don’t own me! They cannot punish me! It’s just a trick! You covered my eyes with shadows!”

“Did I?” The voice came from my left.

I whirled and leaped, hissing furry. I landed on the ground as she laughed to my right. I spun around and slashed so hard, clawed fingers scything through empty air. I missed. My left arm ached so badly. It felt like it would pop. Something dripped down from the wound. A foul reek filled my nose.

“Maybe it’s the poison. Maybe it’s blinded you, little Zanyia.”

My fingers dug into the soil. My ears pricked. I filtered out the other sounds. I had to focus on her. Her!

“Soon you’ll be clawing to rip off that arm. It’ll suppurate worse and worse. Can you smell it already rotting away?”

My ears tracked her voice. She circled me, taunting me. I gripped the soil in my hand as I spit my fury. I acted, throwing the dirt before the figure. Soft impacts of soil hitting flesh echoed. She yowled in shock.

I lunged at her as she spluttered.

I slammed into her body. We rolled and thrashed across needle-strewn earth. The dark world spun around me as we wrestled on the ground. My claws raked across her round breasts. Her yowls howled through my ears. I savored them.

“I’ll bury you alive!” I snarled. “You can be punished!”

“I spent three days in the darkness!” she laughed. “Three days in the punishment kennel. My owner put me in there and taught me not to fear it. Not like you. Terror’s stink oozes off of you.”

My claws dug into her tits. “And when I rip out your heart? What will I smell oozing—”

I didn’t see the blow that struck me in the head. But I felt it. I flew off of her and rolled across the ground. I came to a rest on my stomach. My stomach churned. Stars danced before my eyes. I couldn’t see anything but those red and yellow and blue specs. They taunted me as I groaned.

Hithina laughed.

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Sven Falk

Ava’s rosy form barreled at the shadow. Her steps heavy, belying the grace and slenderness of her naked figure. The stone moved like flesh, her small tits jiggling, her thick hair spreading out behind her. She bellowed with such motherly, protective fury.

I sucked in a breath, watching her in awe. My princess charging into battle. She spread her arms wide like she intended to hug the form. But I knew the weight of that body. She could crush a man. Quartz had weight.

The dark figure flowed around the princess’s charge. A shadow lanced out, catching her foot. She gasped, stumbling and falling to her hands and knees on the ground. Without even pausing, the thing rippled towards me, lances thrusting.

“Las’s putrid cum!” I growled, swinging my sword in an upward parry. A lance of shadow knifed past my head, deflected at the last moment.

I fell back as death stabbed at me over and over.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 24.

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