Intrepid Pawns Ch. 14

Story Info
Ytheri explains to her plaything her philosophy of power.
7.7k words
4.71
9.5k
11

Part 14 of the 17 part series

Updated 06/07/2023
Created 08/07/2015
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here

"And that was my collection of goblin maids! Aren't they a delight?"

Okino nodded numbly. Ytheri had shown him perhaps a dozen doors at this point—goblin maids, teddy bear sprites, lust sprites, a cupid, batgirls who seemed to hear every whimper he made as Ytheri teased him—described their powers and talents to him, tormented him with knowledge of each and every creature he laid his eyes on. It was hot in the menagerie hallway—muggy, with a perpetual dusky glow that seemed to constantly encourage his eyelids to droop down lower.

The sorceress seemed to notice his exhaustion. "Aw." She patted his cheek and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "Are we getting sleepy, Okino? Should I take you back to the fleece sprite cell?" She leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Maybe Delecta?"

"N-No!" He pulled away, breathing heavily of her sweet scent. He knew he should play along, at least somewhat—knew how powerful this sorceress was, knew his mind only remained free because she preferred to toy with him through her servants instead of directly, because of how easy it would be to melt him in her hand once again—but he couldn't. He couldn't even pretend. He stared at her, fear warring with desire.

Gods, despite everything he knew about the sorceress who had taken him from his mission, he couldn't help but admire her beauty: her flowing hair, as black as night; her brilliant, swirling many-colored eyes; that sleek cyan dress an electric contrast against the rich twilight sepia of her complexion.

Ytheri tutted, putting a finger to her beestung moss-green lips, and Okino realized he was staring. He flushed and looked back to her eyes. "Oh, Okino. Aren't you glad I can show you so many fun things? Aren't you glad you don't have to go around chasing wasps anymore?"

He bit his lip. "That was my mission," he said, his voice sounding disturbingly meek, feeble. He had to remind himself that she hadn't used any mind control on him yet—unless merciless edging counted—as he added, louder, "My team needs me."

Ytheri giggled and just shook her head slightly. Her smile was fond. Patronizing. Almost pitying.

"Why do you..." Okino felt his anger bubbling within him, and he clenched the fist not held daintily in her hand. "Why do you do all this?"

Ytheri blinked. "All of what, dear?"

"This!" He gestured weakly around them. "What do you gain? What is the... what is the point?"

"Why did the company send you on a suicide mission?"

"I volunteered—"

"Oh, who can volunteer in Enterprise?" Ytheri rolled her eyes. "And yes, before you try and argue, this is a suicide mission. Your party is almost certainly already in the Hive, drowning in mead. And you would not have been able to save them."

Okino glared. "I had a plan."

"I'm sure you did. They have plans, too. The Thriae, I mean." Ytheri released his hand, to his surprise, and strolled down the hallway. Okino hesitated, then followed after. "And your employers, the shareholders of Enterprise. Not very good plans. Nobody ever has good plans." She turned back to him, frowning. "But why is Enterprise, to begin with? And why is it in trouble? Why do the Thriae fight you? Why venture to wage an unwinnable war against an enemy that is better than you in almost every way?"

Okino wasn't sure who the last question referred to. He followed silently, biting his tongue.

Ytheri slowed slowly, appearing to consider it. She chewed her upper lip. "It's difficult being an archmage, you know."

I weep, Okino carefully did not say.

"There are, perhaps..." She tilted her head slightly. "Five or six mortal mages of equivalent power, you see, on this continent. Lady Mistress. One or two of the Abbesses, I suppose. Mr. Carrots, obviously, and probably the Tulip King. Maybe a diplomat on the Western Plains or two. Very lonely, mm?" She flashed him a mischievous grin. "There might be more. But I'd be surprised if there were more than seven."

Okino only recognized a few of those names. He idly wondered why she didn't mention the Skittergoblin Queen, or anyone in Nyaska, or, hell, the asshole running the Kingdom of the Chosen. Weren't they archmages?

"It's not natural." She stopped walking abruptly and blinked at Okino, her eyes wide. "That kind of power can only be maintained through use. A rich man is only rich as long as he spends, employs, exploits. Otherwise he's just... a man who isn't starving."

"What's wrong with not starving?"

"I can think of no more hideous fate." Ytheri's eyes narrowed. "You have to be hungry. Hunger drives you forward. Wanting things makes you something, and being full makes you nothing. Nothing but another commoner living off the land like no one owns it."

Her voice was bitter, sibilant, and anger crackled from her voice—more full of magic than at any point she'd been toying with him, Okino realized, and he found himself taking a step back.

That seemed to surprise her. She blinked again, and when she spoke her voice had dropped back to her normal casual tone. "You see, Enterprise mines because if they every stopped mining, people might realize nobody really needs silver that badly—and certainly doesn't need Enterprise to mine for them. The Kingdom of the Chosen conquers because otherwise it would collapse in on itself. What they did to Llorieva..." She shook her head. "They always needed an enemy. Someone they could be stronger than. The rich need the poor, and the predator needs the prey. It's natural."

Okino nodded carefully as Ytheri turned and continued walking. He followed at a healthy distance. He wasn't delusional enough to think she would forget about him if he didn't tag along, and refusing to follow might lead her to lose interest in conversation—the first conversation he'd had in this place that hadn't revolved around him submitting to pleasure.

Even if listening to an evil sorceress explain her philosophy was its own kind of torment.

"And what about the Thriae?" he asked, noticing Ytheri had gone silent, staring at the final door at the end of the hall. Oh, so the hall had an end. Okino wondered if this might need to a different area. The door certainly looked identical to all the cell doors from here, but it was dark, gloomy and intimate in the menagerie hallway. Who could tell the difference between one door and the next?

"Yellowjackets are horrible creatures. I accidentally dug up a nest when I was young." Ytheri's eyelids fluttered, and Okino could almost see the memories slipping past her. "The Thriae are worse. Every needle's poke earns a knife in return. They're horribly scared, you see, that if they didn't avenge themselves on every grievance, they would be seen as weak, be consumed by other Hives—or people like your Enterprise's owners." She shook her head. "Wasps are afraid of you. They need you to be more afraid of them, so you forget how small they are."

Her words echoed against the wooden walls.

"So you're saying you're afraid." Okino couldn't keep the words in. "You're saying you do it to keep other enemies away."

"Oh, no." Ytheri giggled. Some warmth seemed to return to her cheeks as she turned to face him. "Archmages almost never confront one another. Nobody wins in a mage duel, silly Okino. I'm just saying that power is relative—that is, it has to be wielded on others, or it isn't power at all. Enterprise just becomes a bunch of dusty papers in some cabinet in some office in Nyaska. All the debt, all the deeds... gone. Poof!" She snapped her fingers. "And worse, the people who currently own your little city become people again. And that terrifies them, I'd imagine."

She laughed, waving an arm dramatically. "If I ever stopped taking captives, Okino, stopped playing with toys—if I ever stopped using my powers, you know, I might realize I had no real use for them. And then I'd realize I didn't want them. And then I might have to be a person again, a normal person, with shame and guilt and all that ugliness. No power, only responsibility."

"But you... youare a person." Okino couldn't project much energy into his voice, and it came out puzzled, confused, rather than frustrated. "And you know that. You're still a person, even with power. Power doesn't... it doesn't make you less of of one." He bit his lip.

Her eyes glimmered, and Okino's stomach turned at the unnatural rainbow of streaking stars reflected in each. Beautiful, irresistible, but also nothing he could ever hope to recognize. "I think it does. I think being a person means being part of something bigger, and being powerful means being the bigger thing. A hundred people can make up a village, but I am a city. So how can I be a person?"

There was a long silence.

Then she giggled again. "Also, I worked a spell a long time ago to put all my humanity inside a little potted string bean plant in my cellar, so I feel fantastic."

"... what."

Ytheri beamed. "It makes it so much easier..." she purred, "... to do this!"

The door to their left at the end of the hallway abruptly vanished. Truly, actually vanished, Okino realized, as a wave of warm, sweet-smelling air struck him.

Ytheri put a hand on his bare chest, cooing her amusement, and shoved him backward.

And Okino plunged into blinding light.

~ ~ ~ ~

At long last, the knights of the city had found the Hive. This, unfortunately, would doubtless prove to be the easy part.

Approaching wasn't difficult, but that didn't mean Trys's heart didn't beat like a hammer against her chest with every snapping twig, every rustle that could be a Thriae warrior about to begin that irresistible hum of her wings.

She felt like a beetle, scurrying around the rocky wastes that surrounded the mountain. Mew's druidic magic had covered their cloaks in moss and lichen, meaning that as long as they had their hoods up and kept their backs bent as they ran for cover, they would generally blend in with the terrain.

In theory. But Trys still felt horribly exposed as they ran from rock to rock. Wasps liked beetles. They laid their eggs in beetles.

They came to a stop behind a jagged outcropping. Brist was the last to make it to cover, and Yathi and Ia tugged him to safety as the mage panted for breath.

"That's close enough," Trys said, peeking up from between two crags to regard the Hive entrance. "And I know that I am repeating myself, Yathi, but just to—"

"Yes," Yathi said, rolling her eyes, "I am positive that this is the right spot."

"Mm." Mew nodded, eyelids fluttering slightly. "Can't you smell it, goldie?" The catgirl breathed in deep, and her expression turned dizzy, dazed in pleasure. "They came right through here."

Trys ignored Mew for the time being, focused on the entrance. When Trys had been taken in by Thriae years ago, had her body transformed, her mind forever addicted to their insidious mead, they hadn't been able to bring her all the way to the Hive. But she'd known what it would be like on the inside—endless twisting halls of gold, sticky walls like hardened syrup, a smell like heaven.

She hadn't really envisioned it looking like the entrance to a dusty old mineshaft. The sign stood right next to the entrance still, as plain as when Brist had used his crystal magic to view it from afar.

MOUNTAIN MINE

She could also see faded letters at the bottom, and from their uniformity, knew well what the finer print had once read. A statement of ownership, and a company motto.

Property of the Nyaskan Silver Enterprise Initiative. Trespassers will be put to the sword, else put to work.

"No happier neighbor than him whose land

Is deeded and parceled by company command."

"This used to belong to the city," she muttered in disbelief. "The Thriae couldn't have struck first, though. That's not their way."

"Thriae don't have a way," Yathi said shortly. "They just want things."

"But they don't strike first, Yathi." Trys turned back, scowling. "I know how Thriae work."

Ia cocked her head. "It kinda looks like they didn't strike first. I mean, it's a bit before my time, but, like, look at that place. The mine wasn't in use."

"Ia's right," Brist said, scratching his head. "That mine didn't belong to anyone."

"That's not how property works, Brist." Yathi rolled her eyes. Trys could tell something about the conversation was prickling her the wrong way. "Enterprise bought it, they own it. You don't have to use something to own it. Not in Nyaskan law."

"Ooh, someone should have told the Thriae that," Mew chirped, and giggled. "Maybe we can just go and clear it up to them right now!"

Brist and Ia exchanged puzzled looks. Yathi folded her arms.

Trys took a deep breath. She smelled it too, now. Distant. Distant and sweet. "Yathi, all we're saying is, it was not really the property of Enterprise when the Thriae took it. At least, not by common laws. That matters."

"Does it?" Yathi sniffed. "Are we on their side now?"

"Of course not." Trys took another deep breath, centering her temper. "I'm just saying that fey do not know obscure Nyaskan property doctrine." She could tell that this was some sort of bitter pill for Yathi, and chose her words carefully. "It means that Enterprise probably tried to evict the Thriae somehow, which... legal or no, clearly ended badly. Two sides are seeing this very differently."

"Right!" Mew beamed. Her tail danced behind her. "So I'll just go in and explain the legal gray area, and the Thriae will bring out their barristers..."

"Quiet, Mew," Trys snapped, as one of the bubbles of anger popped before she could ease it out.

Mew blinked. Her tail went still. Trys bit her lip.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I only mean... I know we are not going to make a legal case to them. But our goal here is to deescalate. I think we all agree that nobody is in a position to evict the Thriae form anywhere, yes?"

Everyone nodded. Mew looked assuaged by the apology, and her tail was twitching again. Yathi shrugged, her expression pouty and petulant—but not disagreeing.

Trys pressed on. "So the plan is the same, but this gives us more information on how it all started. Nyaskan Silver probably didn't realize how... difficult it would be to force the Thriae out. Knowing how it started might help us end it." She clasped her hands together. "Morrowii, I need you to dampen our senses of smell. Even yours."

"Got it!" Mew's eyes shone with excitement as she looked around, considering, then reached out for Brist. "C'mere, cutie, you first."

"I... okay?" Brist bit his lip as Mew reached forward, gently running her fingers over the nape of his neck, pulling him close. Her ears flicked as magic started to flow. She whispered something into Brist's ear, and he mumbled something back.

Trys tried to ignore the display as she reached into her bag and pulled out two of her balls of yarn. "Ia, take one of these. I'll hold onto the other. We're probably the strongest-willed in our party."

Ia giggled and accepted it. Brist shivered and did not object. Unlike Trys and Yathi, he wasn't addicted to the mead at all—but he was currently squirming in the grasp of a catgirl who was doing nothing but rubbing his shoulders and nuzzling him lightly, so he didn't seem to have it in him to argue.

"We'll tie these off at the entrance, and Mew will conceal them as best she can. We use them to find our way out." Trys bit her lip. "We can't protect against the buzzing except to try to keep our heads as best we can. Remember, you see a Thriae, take her down quickly—but subdue. Don't kill."

Everyone nodded. Killing a fey was generally considered extremely risky—fey rarely responded in kind, but it was a kind of escalation that just wasn't done. Especially when you were dealing with Thriae.

"First thing, we get a captive. Bind her wings. She takes us to the Royal Bedroom." Trys shifted in place, trying to project as much confidence as she could as she met everyone's uncertain gaze. "We bring her down and give her crown to the weakest, dumbest Thriae we can find."

"Ooh, a dummy queen!" Mew licked her lips as she skipped over to Ia and took her by the hand. Surprisingly, the mind control-immune knight seemed to flinch at that. Mew whispered in her ear, and Ia whispered something back, eyes wide. Mew grinned, glancing back at Trys from the corner of her eyes. "She won't last long."

"No. But they'll... they'll be busy with her." Trys swallowed, watching Mew stroke Ia's neck delicately. Ia seemed to be a bit ticklish. "And whatever new Queen emerges will have new priorities. We won't be the immediate enemy anymore."

Then Mew turned to her, grinning ear to ear.

Before Trys could even react, the catgirl had somehow pulled her close, and was now nuzzling her just as she'd nuzzled Brist and Ia. It took Trys a moment to remember, as she shivered, that Mew was just working the magic on her as well.

As Mew's fingertips brushed playfully over her cheek, and a pleasant tingling started to spread through Trys's body, she heard Mew purr in her ear, "So which sense do I heighten, honeycow? Taste? Sight? Touch?"

Her fingers brushed across Trys's lips.

Trys felt her face going bright red as she realized everyone else was watching her as Mew worked her magic.

Trys swallowed, desperately trying to contain a whimper, as her nipples tingled and the honey began to trickle.

~ ~ ~ ~

As they were preparing to enter the mine, Ia made sure to cuddle up close to Brist. "Hey, Brist," she murmured, concealing a grin, "help me tie myself up."

She swung her hips slightly, just enough that her ass bumped his lap. Brist's eyes widened, and he nervously, clumsily took the length of yarn. Ia twirled and hummed playfully as he wound it around her waist loosely. The other end was being tied to a scrubby bush, and covered in moss and lichen by Mew to conceal its bright green hue from detection.

Clearly trying not to too blatantly ogle her ass, Brist stammered, "G-Good thing you brought your knitting supplies, Trys."

"Mm." Trys nodded slightly, not looking over at him. She'd clearly had Mew heighten her sight, because she was having to shade her eyes in the bright afternoon light. No doubt she'd be glad to get inside the comforting darkness of the mine—or the dusky sunset glow of the Hive.

Ia giggled, completing her twirl as the yarn was tied, and got up on her tiptoes to be level with Brist. She leaned in. "Thanks, boy," she cooed.

She didn't kiss him. Now was not the time. But from the suddenly glassy look in Brist's eyes as he meekly nodded, she knew he was well and truly under her control. She could hear his quivering breath clearer than ever, thanks to Mew. Of course, Ia hadn't really needed to have her sense of smell suppressed, thanks to her immunity, but there was no harm in getting a better set of ears.

That thought made her bubble and fizz inside with glee. Mistress had taken such good care of her, to make sure she would take such good care of him. Soon he'd be a good boy, just like she was a good girl. Good pets for their kitty owner.

She pulled back, enjoying his clear disappointment, and flashed Yathi a grin. "You getting hyped, Yathers?"

Yathi swallowed. She was looking up at the entranceway, and Ia could see the fear in her eyes. Poor thing. Ia tilted her head, admiring the scout's supple, delectable frame. She felt a little guilty about ogling Yathi, knowing how Yathi felt about that sort of attention... but gods, she was sexy.

The Thriae would positively melt her down and drink her up. It was up to Ia to keep her safe.

After all, she thought, suppressing a squeal of excitement, Mistress wanted as many pretty pets as possible. And Yathi was the jewel.

The contradictions in her head—her fondness for Brist and the others, her loyalty to the city, her dislike of the Thriae—none of it really mattered. None of it interacted. Her pure adoration for Mistress was the canvas across which all else was painted. Ia would be a good girl, and a good teammate. And she would bring as many of them back as soon as possible. As soon as Trys's guard was down, or maybe as soon as they'd beaten the Thriae. It didn't matter, really. Ia would know when the time came.