Dawn and Shadow

Zonova attempted to close the gap enforced by the halberd's reach, feinting and twirling with the force and enormity of a blizzard. She gritted her teeth in dismay when a careless swipe by Zuay sent a jeweled artifact clattering to the ground, and she attempted to maneuver the fight clear of any others. The general refused. Instead, he baited an attack deeper into the twisting glass and silver, luring Zonova in with a smile hidden behind his shield.

For all her divine splendor, Zonova appeared out-of-sorts with every slip or stumble, brief though they were. The gravity of her swing could be felt in the rumbling ground where it struck, in the air fleeing before its path, and in the soreness of her limbs. She reluctantly reigned in her aggression, drawing back to observe what Zuay would do. She was taken by surprise when a well-concealed knife sang towards her face.

She dove downward, narrowly avoiding the tiny flash, and shifted to one side to avoid a second. Zuay's third throw took wing just as his polearm clattered to the ground from where he'd abandoned it midair. A streak of crimson sullied the fabric of Zonova's arm, marking where the knife had grazed her. Zuay stared. A breath of awe swept the room with silence.

Zonova did not allow the moment to linger, readying her hammer to strike at the opening left by Zuay's unarmed state. He skittered away as though the act were planned, recovering his halberd while on the run. Another swipe and bash of Zonova's hammer, ringing soundly off the round shield, and they had swapped their locations in the room. Zuay lingered out of reach, eyes narrowed, and subtly diverted his challenger's attention over his shoulder. Just behind him, through spiderwebs of cracked glass, lay two shattered ornamental masks, each broken where his knives had stricken true.

A scowl curled Zonova's lips when she noticed, and seemed ready to decry the blasphemy of such an act when Zuay struck. He feinted left, shifted right, and spun his halberd clear of the hammer's reach. When he drew it across and leapt back, the hooked end of the blade glistened with the blood it had stolen, taking Zonova's breath with it. She cried through gritted teeth, and her leg collapsed where its hamstring had been cut free.

Cracked stone and feathery fabric were defiled by a swiftly creeping bloodstain, their owner laid low by Zuay's hand. He did not gloat, nor hesitate, nor show any hint of mercy as he advanced on the goddess's crumpled form and ran a knife through her abdomen.

When Zuay withdrew, staring at the blood upon his hand, he fell to his knees and attempted to quell his ragged breaths. Zonova clutched the wound in her belly, then gradually turned her gaze upward, meeting the general's eyes where they leveled with hers.

"Well fought," she said slowly, agony creeping into her voice. Zuay released a heavy breath, relieved beyond measure. Zonova grinned, and her radiance seeped back in from her dizzying black eyes. "Though I could have done without the destruction of my wares. They'll take ages to mend."

Zuay allowed a burst of hysterical laughter before finally laying the shield and halberd aside. Disbelief crept into his demeanor.

Zonova rose to her feet with ease, dismissing wounds, blood, sweat, and weariness with upturned palms. Her wings stretched wide at her back once more. Her hair pulled itself free. And her height remained the same as every stitch of cloth upon her body effervesced, curling tendrils which dissolved like smoke.

Her snowy skin glimmered brightly, as though dusted with silver. Her every curve, gently sculpted, was laid bare for her champion to behold. She was sheer perfection. The quintessence of beauty and grace. Twinkling silver jewelry draped along the delicate lines of her neck, waist, and breasts, dangling tiny crystals which embellished the sacred ground upon which they lay.

Zuay's breath caught, and he clapped a hand over his mouth while staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed. For all that he'd seen in the space of a day, it was the naked glory of his beloved goddess which caused his eyes to smart, and his heart to hammer. He averted his eyes after mere seconds, pressing his forehead to the floor and clasping his hands together in supplication.

"Your Grace," he said, voice muffled against the cold ground, "no man should have any right to ask what I have. I beg your forgiveness."

"Now now, dear General," said Zonova, padding softly towards him on bare feet, "you would not be the first to make such a request. Nor the first to succeed. And succeed, you have." She stood before him, but did not bend or reach downward. "I would have you properly rewarded for your conquest. For it is my prize to give as I deem fitting."

With a trembling hand, Zuay lifted his face from the floor, but did not dare raise his eyes further. He lovingly kissed the feet of his idol, quivering before her loveliness. All his valor, his strength and endurance when staring death in the face, had been swept away by the genuine affection he so clearly craved.

"On your feet, General," Zonova ordered. He obeyed, finally meeting her gaze, and saw the astral depths reflected in her enormous eyes. "What would you have of your prize?" she asked, slowly circling him while trailing a hand along his chest. "Would you swallow a sword? Or sheath your own?"

When Zuay glanced down, his surprise was plain as he witnessed the silvery skin shift, change shape, and become partially male for a moment. His eyes widened at the possibilities.

"The latter, Your Grace," he said.

"Surely there is more you desire," said Zonova, draping an arm about his neck. "By mine eye, unveil thy heart. Lay it bare."

A spark of divination crackled on her lips as they drew near, and pressed to Zuay's. The great general's breath left him as his eyes slid closed, and he leaned into the heartbreakingly sweet sensation. When Zonova pulled back from the kiss, her hands remained upon him, and the rest of her body followed after. Zuay's thudding heart could be clearly felt where it was pressed to her snowy white breasts.

"I see," said Zonova inquisitively. "All that time spent leading others, all that energy caring for their well being, and you've not been allowed the same luxury for yourself." She leaned forward, her lips hovering by his ear, so that only her breath touched it. "You wish for someone else to lead you. To indulge your needs for you. You wish to be conquered."

Zuay swallowed hard against her palm, and nodded.

"So it shall be. I may not take possession of your soul, but your body is mine." Zonova stepped away abruptly, breaking contact, but her hand upon Zuay's throat was the last to leave. From its reach grew a length of clinking chain, linking her to the gilded collar at the general's neck. He grasped at it with wide eyes.

"Come, General," said Zonova, and pulled upon the chain firmly while she strode away.

"Yes, Your Grace."

They exited the vast room of artifacts, and crossed a narrow, arcing bridge which towered over a dizzying height. Cool air and wisps of cloud attempted to gently sweep them away, while Zuay could barely keep his eyes on his feet for balance. He stole frequent glances at the nude form before him, a hint of guilt flickering across his face.

When they arrived at a wide, flat platform atop a grand stair, Zuay hesitated momentarily. Neither ceiling nor walls marked the boundary between them and vast, empty air. No sound echoed back from the distant white clouds below, as it was swallowed instantly by the endless drop. Icy crystalline structures encrusted the platform's edges, branching upward like spindly fingers reaching for the stars, harboring fractured rainbows in their depths. They crept over the floor, up the steps of a dais, and over a grandiose throne in intricately twisting patterns.

Zonova tugged at the chain to keep Zuay moving, and approached the throne with a sway in her step. She ascended the dais, turned, and settled herself upon it. The weaving tendrils of her hair fanned about her head in an icy halo, and were magnified by the crystals exploding upward at her back.

"Kneel," she said. "Kneel before thy queen."

Zuay obeyed, throwing himself at her feet, his chain clattering to the ground.

"Such a loyal pet you've been, haven't you? Devout, noble, and courageous." Zonova reclined languidly, and rested her feet upon his back. "Carrying out my will, smiting the unworthy beast, rallying your fellows to arms. But do you know how you might better serve me?"

"No, Your Grace."

She cupped the underside of Zuay's chin with her delicately curled toes, and tipped his face towards her. Zonova smiled wickedly at his look of astonishment as she wound the chain about her hand and pulled him in. She parted her legs, reached for the back of Zuay's neck, and pulled his tongue to her other lips. He obeyed eagerly, and bent to his task.

Zonova tipped her head back with a contented sigh, running her fingers through the dark, short cropped hair. The thin breeze and her gentle moans were the only sound in the throne room, their music a subdued celebration of femininity. She wrapped a leg about his shoulders, and conjured another goblet of wine.

"What would they say, I wonder?" she said absently as she sipped. "Your subordinates. Your cohorts. The men and women whom you lead so well. What would they all say if they could see you now? Chained and collared."

Zuay's muffled moan hummed through her body, and his eyes begged for more. Zonova allowed the worship to continue for several minutes longer before turning his head away from her seat upon the throne. There, arrayed before the dais, were dozens of shifting faces watching them raptly. Faces which the goddess had seen following their General into battle. They gawked and whispered conspiratorially to one another. Zuay's moistened chin hung open incredulously at the illusion.

"Ah, quite the improvement. They shall bear witness to your supplication." Zonova stretched her wings wide, and raised her cup to the silent audience. "Proceed, General."

"Yes, Your Grace," came the stunned whisper. His tongue worked quickly to appease the porcelain beauty, his chain clinking against her thigh. Her breast heaved with pleasure, gleaming like the throne she sat upon.

After a minute longer, Zonova pressed the soft sole of her foot to his forehead and pushed him away.

"With me," she ordered, rising gracefully to her feet and descending the steps of the dais. Zuay hastily wiped his face and stumbled after her, following closely until she halted at the platform's edge behind the throne.

"Excellently done, my sweet," she purred, "and so enthusiastic. Such service warrants proper reward."

Zuay smiled brightly.

"I live to serve, Your Grace," he said with a bow. Zonova brought him upright with a hand about his neck, which remained possessively in place.

"Tell me, General," she murmured, "have you ever flown?"

"No, Your Grace," he stammered, casting a nervous look over the throne room's precipice.

"This shall be a fine spectacle then." Her hand tightened almost to the point of pain, then she cast the loyal man from on high. Zuay flailed and screamed as he plummeted through the clouds.

His terror lasted only seconds before the air about him slowed, warmed, and thickened. He craned his neck to see a plush crimson bed rising up to meet him. His body was gently laid upon it, sinking deep into silk bedding, as his surroundings solidified about him. An expansive, low-ceilinged bedchamber, cloaked in the comforting dimness of firelight, quieted the harsh surroundings with an affectionate touch.

The winged goddess followed soon after, alighting from above and settling along the length of Zuay's body. It was only when their skin pressed together that he realized his clothing had disappeared.

"Your Grace, I- oh..." his words tapered into a sensuous, unfettered moan.

"Now, my dear," said Zonova, folding her wings and molding her form against his. She laid feathery kisses along Zuay's cheek and neck. "My dear Mui... all the sweetest of sensations shall you have." She ran her hands down each of his muscular arms, then grasped his wrists and planted them firmly above his head. Zuay complied with the implicit command, and did not move from where he'd been placed.

He remained dutifully still as Zonova set upon him with lips and tongue, nibbling teeth and grazing fingernails. She ravished every inch of dark skin, availing herself of all which was kept hidden away. Deep lines cut into dense muscle, marking their passage beneath his flesh. All was explored by hungry eyes and hands, which delighted in each shiver they elicited.

When at last Zonova straddled his hips and poised herself above, the very air seemed to freeze, trembling with anticipation. And as she lowered herself, engulfing him in her depths, Zonova smiled warmly. Before her was the result of a mortal lifetime of rigid discipline: a valiant leader of men, and one of the greatest warriors she'd ever known, fully exposed and laid upon his back. His jaw and abdomen twitched involuntarily whilst his eyes fluttered closed, surrendering himself completely.

Zuay was a remarkably vocal man, punctuating each movement with a prolonged grunt from deep within his chest. His comely face strained whilst his body was borne to oblivion on powerful wings. Zonova smiled as her hips danced smoothly, wave upon wave of gentle curves shimmering in the firelight. She voiced her own pleasure with soft, breathy moans which floated past her pale lips. She nearly laughed when she saw Zuay continuing to resist the urge to look upon her.

"My dear General," she soothed, cupping a hand to his cheek and redirecting his view, "there's no need for such coyness." She then reached for his hands and placed them to her slim waist, allowing him to feel its rhythm. Zuay finally looked down, and watched the point of their copulation with mouth agape.

He kept glancing up to meet her enormous black eyes, as though fearful of chastisement. When he received none, his hands roamed timidly lower, over skin as smooth as glass.

"You are surely the most beautiful woman in all of creation, Your Grace," he whispered. "If I may be so bold."

"Was it worth the risk you chose, then?" Zonova asked with a knowing look. Zuay took a moment to compose himself before replying.

"I would stake my life on the chance to look upon you a hundred times over, Your Grace." He was utterly transfixed, and beheld the otherworldly perfection as though he expected nothing further from his life. Such total gratification looked almost out of place on a man who'd grown to never expect any.

Zonova laid a firm hand over his collared throat, a reminder of how easily she could snuff him out. Zuay squirmed and arched his back in clear adoration of the show of dominance. Through gritted teeth came delectably sensuous moans, rewarding her efforts handsomely. Zuay's fingers dug firmly into Zonova's hips, and his eyes rolled upward. His form convulsed and curled, thighs nearly touching her back as he released every drop of vitality he had to give.

The goddess leaned down and stole away his heavy breath with a deep kiss, her sweet scent overwhelming that of the light sheen of sweat upon Zuay's brow. The man could barely bring himself to move enough to return it, his limbs trembling like leaves upon the wind. Mercifully, Zonova permitted him ample time to return to his senses, lavishing gentle words and caresses upon him. Soon after Zuay relaxed and reached to embrace his new lover, he'd slipped into a peaceful slumber.

Zonova watched over him as he slept, wrapping him protectively in her arms and holding him close to her breast. His breath was quieter than both the crackling fireplace on the opposite side of the room, and the shifting fabrics of their visitor.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, dear sister?" asked Zonova softly.

Virena, Bow of Starlight and fifth of The Five, stepped into the fire's glow with a chuckle.

"I had wanted to regale you of the wonderful prey the wilds have birthed since last we descended. To show you the prize I acquired on my hunt." Her emerald garb, striking in its simplicity, reflected not a hint of light from the flickering flames. "Though it appears you have your own."

"Indeed," said Zonova with a smile. "Is he not a fine specimen? You should have seen how he fought alongside me."

"Well, take care not to wake the poor mortal," said Virena. She strode idly about the room nibbling a spun sugar sweet.

"No need," Zonova replied, gently stroking the crown of Zuay's head. "He's not slept this deeply in years."

"You fought him, then? In single combat?"

"On equal footing, using my own weapons. He fared remarkably well."

"So I heard. Ymelia watched for a time," said Virena. Zonova looked down at the general's sweetly relaxed face, at his slackened lips and vulnerable eyes.

"Do you think he knows I didn't wish for victory?" she asked.

"He'd be a fool not to," said Virena. "Though I don't expect he'd much care."

They chuckled. Virena finished her sweet and produced another as she settled into a high-backed chair by Zuay's side of the bed.

"Will you take what he's given you, then?" she asked, examining the man where he lay.

"I have considered it. I may bear myself a daughter in his likeness." She looked up and met her sister's eye. "The time is ripe, after all. I've found that scripture has been forgotten. Man has atrophied in its age of peace, and has needed to rediscover much which was lost. They're in need of shepherds."

"Drita thought the same. She has already bestowed a daughter upon a devout high priestess, who will bear her world a savior. Such a pretty thing, she is."

"If Drita wills it, then I shall follow suit."

They slipped into a calm quietude for a time, listening to the cadence of General Zuay's breath. It was all that marked the passage of time for they who were unaffected by it.

"Will you tell him?" asked Virena.

"Perhaps. If she is born within his lifetime. I doubt he will sire any of his own, once returned."

"Keep him, then. He seems a fitting pet." Virena gestured to the gilded collar still wrapped snugly about Zuay's neck.

"And prevent him from doing what he was born for?" Zonova shook her head with a chuckle. "No, he is far more entertaining running his sword through beasts than through myself. I'll enjoy him for a while longer, though. And before you ask, I shan't be depositing him back into his realm a hundred years removed, or some such nonsense. He was promised safe passage."

"Where's the amusement in giving such promises? Or in adhering to the spirit of your word? They must be kept on the alert, after all. Lest they grow complacent," said Virena with a smirk. "All the same, I'm happy you succeeded in your own hunt. Come and view mine when next you have an opportunity."

"I shall," said Zonova. "And thank you. You fought well today. Long may your hands wreak obliteration."

"Blessed be thy strength, bloodied be thy path," Virena answered reflexively, rising to depart. "May you enjoy your prize as much he has."

"Should generosity strike my heart, I may share him."

Zonova smiled warmly at the mortal man as he shifted closer. Though he murmured softly, he did not wake.