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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 35.

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Note: Thanks to WRC 264 for beta reading this!

Keythivak

I savored the weakness of my enemy as I attacked. My chain swung through the air, slashing and thrusting at him. It was such a versatile weapon, hard to deal with. Sven had talent. He had trained to fight, to use his natural grace and dexterity to his advantage. But the poison slowed him down more and more. I just had to wear him down.

And kill him.

His flushed face glistened with sweat. Rivulets poured down his neck to his leather jerkin. He swung his short sword before him, knocking back my chain. Each time, I redirected the swing, attacking him from a new direction, weakening him more and more.

His left hand moved down. He did it slowly, turning his body, almost hiding what he was doing as he went for a throwing knife on his bandoleer slung over his chest. I didn’t betray my knowledge. I kept fighting the same, letting the fool think he could full me with the same trick twice.

The knife flicked out.

I battered it out of the sky with my sickle as he charged in behind it. I didn’t flinch in shock like last time. I could see it in his blue eyes as he thrust his blade that he knew his ruse had failed. My chain lashed out for his feet.

He tried to jump.

Instead, he tripped himself. His legs, weighted down by exhaustion, didn’t move as spry as before. The chain caught him as he struggled to hold his balance. It smacked into his calves. He cried out as it swept his feet out from beneath him.

Sven crashed hard onto his side.

“Did you think the same trick would work twice?” I asked, advancing, savoring this moment. I would disable him then start killing the women. All but the princess. My Mistress would love to play with her royal beauty. “Huh?”

“Maybe…” Sven panted while rolling onto his back. “Getting tripped… was part of… my plan.”

“I like you,” I said, tightening my grip on my sickle. “Cocky and brash to the end.”

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Princess Ava

The lamia crashed into me. I gasped as she smashed the pointed end of her stone into my face. I shuddered, feeling the proxy shivering beneath the impact. Her attack hit with force, and alabaster wasn’t the strongest of stone.

What made it easy to shape into pleasing forms also proved its undoing here. I grabbed her waist, struggling to push her off, but her legs squeezed about my torso. She raised her weapon up again and slammed it down.

A chip of white spun through the air; a piece of my face.

I gasped, feeling the proxy crumbling as she slammed her stone in for a third time. Cracks ran through the delicate material. My soul struggled inside of the vessel. I had to stop her. I shot my hands up to grab her wrist.

She dodged and struck my head from the side.

My proxy’s head shattered. I had a brief glimpse of white stone flying away from me, chucks that held the carved features of my face. Then my soul flung out in a shock of pain, shooting back to my body and…

I didn’t slam into my body. I found something else. Something that felt so empty, just aching to be filled. A proxy that wasn’t a proxy. It had never been inhabited by me. I had never formed a bond with it, and yet… Yet it felt so familiar. It begged for something to animate it. It had been constructed to be possessed.

So I possessed it.

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Sven Falk

I gripped my sword. This wouldn’t work. His reflexes were still sharp, unlike mine,, but what choice did I have? His sickle swung down to rip out my throat.

I thrust my short sword before me. Not to parry it, but to throw it. I let go, the point knifing right for his chest, a missile he couldn’t ignore. The assassin’s face twisted in surprise. He hadn’t expected it. His attack changed.

His sickle knocked the sword from the air, bouncing it to the ground.

I drew a dagger as I gained my feet, growling with the last of my will. I had to close the distance to him. I sprang at him. The world spun around me. Only the assassin remained clear to my sight, standing tall and deadly, the chain whipping around him.

I threw myself at him.

The chain struck my side.

I grunted, missing with my attack. My shoulder hit him in the stomach before I bounced off of him. He stumbled back as I landed hard on the ground. I groaned, rolling, the world tumbling into a blurring mess. My stomach rebelled. My limbs shook.

“Part of your plan, eh?” the assassin asked. Then he laughed, stalking up to me. “Oh, yes, daring. You don’t give up.”

“Only… when I’m… dead.”

The assassin nodded. “So be it. You’ll have to watch your women die from the Astral Realm.”

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Princess Ava

I stood in my new body, crouched low. It had four legs and… a tail. I felt it swishing behind me as I padded around, adjusting to the new proxy. I faced Greta, her eyes wide as she knelt over my body. I shook my new flesh. It felt… woven together.

“Princess?” Greta asked, her voice soft.

“Yes,” I said through the muzzle of the… of the feyhound. How was I in Scáthnamhaid?

Then I remembered the lamia. My eyes found her creeping up on Zanyia. She straddled Sven’s sex slave, prepared to rip out her throat. Metal clanged behind me. The assassin laughed as I sprang at the lamia.

She looked up just in time to hiss. My new jaws felt so strong as they crushed about her throat. She yowled in pain as I carried her off of Zanyia. I bit with all my strength. I felt the warmth of her life pouring out over my muzzle as I carried her to the ground.

I landed on her. Her eyes were so wide as she convulsed beneath me. Claws raked at my wicker body. I felt the scratches, but didn’t care. I kept biting, shaking my head from side to side as more and more of her life spilled out of her.

She died.

A man bellowed behind me.

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Keythivak

Sven struggled to hold his dagger before his entire body shuddering and shaking. The poison burned through his veins. But I couldn’t afford to leave him alive now. As much as I wanted him to suffer, to lay impotently as I killed his women one-by-one, I needed to eliminate him.

Just in case.

I kicked the dagger out of his hand.

He struggled to draw another one as I raised my sickle up in the air. I focused on his throat, on slashing down and cutting it open. Of seeing his bright-red life gushing out of him. A tremble raced through my limbs.

Hithina yowled in pain.

My gaze snapped to my right. The feyhound had… Had animated again. It had its jaws wrapped about my lamia’s throat, biting deep. Her blood spilled around its muzzle as it carried her to the ground. Her body spasmed, her claws raking ineffectually across it’s woven body.

My heart clenched.

“Hithina!” I snarled as her body fell limp.

The feyhound lifted its bloody muzzle and stared at me. My body trembled with rage. I—

Cold pain stabbed into my heart.

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Sven Falk

I shuddered on the ground as the assassin looked down at his chest. His eyes widened in disbelief at my throwing dagger planted between his ribs and into his heart. He stumbled back, dropping his sickle. He grabbed the hilt of the knife and wrenched it out of his flesh.

Blood pumped down his black shirt in thick gushes. It spilled in a dark flood of crimson. He blinked then stared at me. The knife fell from his grip as he staggered to his right and collapsed hard on the ground. He let out a gurgling moan, his body collapsing.

A great chill ran through me as the assassin died.

The poison wracked my body. I shuddered, closing my eyes. My entire body shook and shuddered. The world spun around me. I whimpered, casting my gaze around for my sister. For Ava. For Zanyia or Aingeal.

I won. I killed the assassin and… And…

The poison killed me.

“Sven!” Ava cried out, her voice sounding twisted, almost like the barking of a bitch dog. “No, no, Sven!”

“Ava!” I groaned. My teeth chattered. “Need… Kora… or… or… Ain… geal… For…”

Why did I need them? The chills wracked my flesh harder. My entire body convulsed. Foam rolled out of my mouth as the world spun around me. Darkness crashed into me. It dragged me down deeper and deeper into…

I drifted through burning fever.

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Princess Ava

I abandoned the feyhound and opened my eyes. I sat up, Greta shivering. I gained my feet, my nightgown whirling about my feet as I spun to face Sven. He convulsed by the dead assassin, foam flecking his mouth.

“We have to help him!” I shouted. “We have to get Kora up. Or Aingeal.”

“How?” Greta asked as I darted to Sven lying away from the fire in the cold grass.

“I don’t know!” Tears fell down my cheeks. We won and yet… Everyone was dying anyways. How could I get them to Az and the Temple of Rithi to be healed?

I felt so weak, so helpless. I was just a princess. I didn’t have any strengths. I didn’t have any powers. I could only imbue…

I could imbue. I glanced at the feyhound. An idea formed in my head.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 37.

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I have released a part 43 of the revamped Devil’s Pact on Smashwords. Read this post for more information if you’re interested!