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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 9.

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Note: Thanks to WRC 264 for beta reading this!

Kora Falk – Az, Princedom of Kivoneth, The Strifelands of Zeutch

Theophil ran his finger across the facet of the ruby, his blue eyes growing studious. “Biomancer Vebrin…”

The way he said the name made my skin crawl. I swallowed, hating that I was so close to him right now. As he moved the gem in his hand, the chain rubbed at the back of my neck, chafing me. Shuddering, I glanced at my brother standing nearby, his arms folded across his chest.

“What a great craftsman,” Theophil continued, his eyes growing distant beyond his bulbous nose.

“Great craftsman?” I frowned. Did he mean the biomancer?

“He built so many unique crafts, working with the raw materials to make new things never before seen.”

“New things?” I hissed, a surge of anger rushing through me. I grabbed the gem and yanked it out of his hand, taking a step back. “Raw materials? He butchered art.”

“Art?” the older man frowned.

“Yes, art! He took the works others made and debased them with his craft,” I said, my blood boiling. How could anyone admire the biomancer? “He made monsters!”

“Debased? He improved them.” He shook his head. “We aren’t art. You, me, all of us are machines. Living ones, yes, but still machines. Your heart pumps blood through your veins and supplies energy to your muscles. You ingest fuel through your mouth and when you’ve burned it for heat, your body excretes the waste. Take your muscles.” He smacked his right palm into his thick, left arm. “They are a complex form of machines. They flex and pull, responding to impulses from your brain. What a great machine each living creature is.

“Vebrin may have been despicable, but he delved into the craft of life and made new machines. New combinations of life. Functional life. Life that still breeds, that still lives, to this day.”

“He was despicable!” I hissed, my eyes harrowing. “His creations are a plague upon the world. They are dangerous. They kill. They brutalize. They infest the seas. They roam the mountains. They haunt the dark corners of the woods.”

“As do natural monsters and beasts,” Theofilus said. “He was just the first mortal to figure out how to work with life with the same skill as the Gods.”

“No, what the Gods make is inspired by Rithi! It’s art. It’s functional and beautiful and majestic!”

“Pretty words.”

My fists clenched. My entire body shook. Pretty words. “Do you want Biomancer Vebrin to live again?” I demanded. I shook the amulet at him. “He’s right in here. You want him to befoul the world again with his craft?”

Theophil’s cheek twitched.

“Is that all that matters to you? Making ugly, twisted things from the art of others? Lacking any beauty? Any inspiration? Do you not care about that?”

“Inspiration is what drives the inventor,” he answered. “To make something useful, something functional, is profound. It is true beauty. Not some pretty scribblings on a piece of canvas or a stone shaped into a pleasing form. They may be aesthetically pleasing, but it doesn’t help society prosper.

“It feeds the soul! It nourishes people’s hearts and gives them hope. It inspires them to be better. To think about their actions. To understand their place in society. It is a channel to something greater than us. It is not something pedantic as functional. As useful.”

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

Sven Falk

I stood with the others, staring in shock at my sister and the high priest of Krab arguing over nearly the same thing. I almost wanted to let them fight. To let Kora offend the priest so he demanded us to leave, forcing us to depart without finding the altar. Then I would have my sister with me for even longer and…

Kora needed to destroy the Biomancer. His existence offended her deeply. What he did was an assault on her very belief. To her, the Biomancer was merely a thief. Someone who stole others work and modified them just enough to claim them as his without truly understanding what he was doing. What the meaning was behind the art he destroyed in his own fumbling attempt. She needed to protect art from being despoiled.

“Nothing is more important to an object than its use,” growled Theophil. “Art is a luxury afforded to societies with the wealth to idle time on waste and frivolity.”

“Frivolity?” Kora’s face twisted in outrage. “It provides escape for people from the hardships of their life. Are you so dead inside you cannot recognize that fact? Don’t you feel that need to be a part of something greater? That connection to the divine? To insights into the world beyond your own limited perspective?”

I had to intervene before they came to blows. “You might admire Biomancer Vebrin,” I growled, grabbing his arm and pulling him back from my sister. His bicep flexed beneath my grip, all ropy muscle. “But do you want him alive? His servants search for this phylactery. We need to destroy it. So unless you want him free, help us or stop wasting our time?”

Theophil eyes slid over to me. He worked his jaw together, his blue eyes hard. Anger tensed his muscles. Despite the man being twice my age, he had solid mass. He could inflict damage with a punch. Labor kept him strong.

My feet shifted as I relaxed into a fighting stance, my eyes narrowing.

He let out a harrumphing grunt. “No, I do not want him returned to life. His creations are not useful to me. But they are remarkable.” He moved from my sister and marched over to Princess Ava. He stopped before her. She swallowed as he said, “I’ll help her if she is truly the Masterwork Craft. The ultimate one Krab waited for.

“The one who can open the Vault.”

“What’s this Vault?”

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

Princess Ava

“Oh, wow,” I said as we stopped before the round door set into the wall at the end of the basement corridor. The light from lantern held in Carsina’s hand played off of it. My jaw dropped.

“Cernere’s black cunt,” Aingeal said, her voice thick in awe.

“Gods damn,” grunted Sven. “What is that? How?”

I nodded my head. The wall, the round door that was easily Sven’s height in circumference, all reflected the light like they were metal, a silvery sheen rippling across the surface as Carsina moved her lantern around. But the material also was clear like crystal. It was so thick that whatever lay inside the Vault was blurred and distorted.

“It is made of adamant,” Carsina said. “It’s a crystal that can be worked by metal. Once it cools, however, it can never be affected by tools again. Only a craftsmen of sublime skill could make this. No human has the skill.

“You look upon the work of a God.”

A tremble raced through me. It was one thing to believe in the Gods, to know that they existed and guided the world. Yes, Slata, using the divine seed of Pater, created Humans and the other dual-sexed races, and Aingeal and the other faeries were made by Cernere with Las’s seed, so everyone in this room were works of the Gods, but…

This felt more… direct. There were hundreds and thousands of generations between myself and Slata.

I felt something inside of me tremble as I approached the door. I passed solid Theophil to reach out and touch the door. It felt cool to my touch, so smooth it was almost slick. I slid my fingertips across the vault door until I found the seam. I rubbed at it where it lay flush against the wall. I could feel hardly a gap between them. My soul quivered. It wanted to imbue it, but…

But I couldn’t just reach in there.

“This is the Vault,” Theophil said, his voice in awe. “The temple was built around it. To guard it and to study it. Every temple to Krab specializes in a different craft. Woodworking, metal forging, weaving, brewing, paper making, and so on. This temple studies the esoteric crafts. How the most profound machines work. How the most amazing crafts are forged and created. Working with crystals and metals, struggling to understand how our God forged this.

“I have spent my life studying this. As has the nineteen masters before me. We have all experimented, worked to recreate adamant. Krab waits for us to join him at his level. He has given us the tools and awaits us to master them. He is patient. He understands that such skill takes time to develop. Generations to understand.”

“Yes,” Carsina said, joining me. Her hand touched it. She had a look of worship on her face, almost like the ecstasy I witnessed in her eyes when we were cumming on the dildos that I powered inside our pussies. “To reach this pinnacle of skill… It makes me feel like a tyro all over again. Like this is my first time stepping into a workshop.”

I swallowed and quivered. Why did my soul want to reach out? There was nothing for me to interact with. I pressed outward, but I couldn’t slip into the mechanism. It waited to be filled, like a proxy, but…

“So the Altar of Souls is in there?” Sven asked. “Krab locked it up here?”

“Krab hid the Altar of Souls when the Gods agreed to withdraw from the world after High King Peter’s birth,” Theophil said. “When they promised to only work through their proxies, their demigod children, and through portents and signs. Krab didn’t want mortals to abuse it, but he knew it might be needed. No device should be locked up forever. Not when it could be useful.”

“Okay,” Sven said, his voice tight, strained. “Then open up the Vault, and let’s get this destroyed. This can all be… over.”

Something in his voice made me frown. I glanced at Sven. He stared at the Vault with such a tight expression, his lips pressed tight, almost bloodless. He had his arms folded before them. I expected to see greed in his eyes, that exhilaration to break into something guarded, to purloin a treasure—like a maiden’s virginity—that is well-protected.

I didn’t. I saw… something dull. Flat.

“The Altar of Souls is not in the Vault, only the means of finding it is. The key to revealing it to the world…” Theophil shook his head, a look of longing crossing his face. His bulbous nose twitched as he moved forward to caress the vault. “Once it’s been exposed, there will be no concealing it again. It will be in the open for any to use.”

“Sounds like something you’d want,” muttered Kora.

“Aye.”

“Then let’s open it up and find this key,” Sven said, his voice growing thicker.

“I can’t open it. Only the Masterwork Craft can operate the locking mechanism.” His eyes slid over to me.

I swallowed. I pressed my forehead against the door, my warm face drinking in the cool feel of it. I closed my eyes. I could… feel it in there. Something inside waited for me to fill it. To imbue it with my essence or empower it or however my powers worked. I couldn’t… penetrate it. Something… blocked the access to it, like I had to figure out how to open a spiritual door or something.

“Do you have a key for the key?” I muttered, shaking my head. I pulled my head away. “I can’t operate it.”

“Of course you can’t,” Theophil said. “You haven’t created anything on your own. Yet.”

“Surely I have,” I said. “I’ve stitched a dress or two.”

“There is an act of crafting only a woman can do,” he said. “Krab engineered your ancestors to produce you, but if you’re the Masterwork Craft that is awaited, you first have to prove you are fully functional.”

“Are you saying we have to wait nine months for me to give birth to a child?” I asked, my jaw dropping. “That is ludicrous.”

“Not give birth,” he said, shaking his head. “Conceive.”

Aingeal burst out laughing. “You need to be bred, Princess!”

My cheeks burned crimson. I suddenly became aware of everyone staring at me. Of Sven so nearby. A ripple of heat washed out of my pussy. It billowed through my body. My nipples hardened. A trickle of juices ran down my thighs. To be bred… By Sven.

By my father…

No, no, don’t think of him right now. I turned to Sven. I stared at him. His blue eyes were wide. That look of… consternation melted away into something approaching awe. Then his smile grew, that grin that made me feel like a woman as his eyes roamed my body. My back straightened, my chin lifting. I felt the cool caress of my gown upon my small breasts, the fabric molding to them. It clung to my hips, letting Sven see all my womanly curves.

“Master’s got just the cock you need,” Zanyia said. She giggled, hugging him from behind and squeezing his bulging crotch in his leather pants. “Mmm, he’s growing so hard. Master wants to breed you, Mistress Ava.”

“Of course he does,” Aingeal said, her wings fluttering behind her back. Her large tits jiggled, the gold rings piercing her nipples flashing.

“I want to be bred by Master,” Nathalie said. She clutched her belly. “I hope I will be soon.”

“I bet you do,” Kora said, hugging Nathalie from behind. My future sister-in-law grinned at me over the girl’s shoulder. She had such a look of joy in her eyes. I knew she wanted to have his baby, too. But with things so dangerous…

But if I had to be bred… My pussy clenched. Then I groaned.

“What?” Sven asked.

“Is there a problem with your reproductive system?” Theophil asked.

My cheeks burned with embarrassment, two fires raging on either side of my head. I wanted to melt into the floor. “Everything… down there works just fine! I have a reproductive charm on me. It lasts for months yet. I can’t conceive so long as I have that.”

“Oh, I can take care of that,” the faerie said. She gave a gigglish squeal of delight, her wings fluttering hard enough to lift her a few inches off the ground. The flashing pink of her wings rippled in distorted reflections across the vault door and walls. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and ripe, too. I’ll ensure our husband’s seed plants in your fertile soil on the first try. Though he can make all the attempts he wants.” She gave me a wicked wink of her purple eye.

“Just to make sure?” I asked with an impish grin, my pussy growing hot.

Aingeal grinned and Zanyia let out a purring moan of delight.

“Ooh, I am so happy for you!” Kora said before she moved to me. Her arms through around my neck. She hugged me tight. I felt the amulet through our clothing and didn’t care against the tide of passion brimming through me. “Good luck, sister-wife.”

“Thank you!” I said then kissed her on the mouth.

Kora melted against me. Our tongues danced together. I wanted Sven’s child so badly. I would do it. I would be bred by him while our family surrounded me. It would be so passionate. So amazing. I would have such a wondrous time.

To be continued…

Click here for Chapter 11.

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