Mud and Magic Ch. 15

"I think you got him," Haloryth whispered next to him, her hand trying to touch his arm. It sank into his skin.

Rhys exhaled slowly and stopped pouring flames into the raging inferno before him. "I hope Desire can't resurrect him from a pile of ashes," he muttered. "Let's fetch Celeste and be gone. I'm sick of this place."

When they reached Elara and Celeste, the former village cleric was awake, defiantly ignoring the murderous stares the elf shot her way. But Elara was forgotten the moment Rhys came into view. Celeste tried to stand but crumpled back into an undignified heap, clutching her ribs.

"Did you not heal her?" Rhys asked Elara.

"I tried, but the magic isn't taking," the elf said, a bit testily. "Not even the Hand Of Life is strong enough to mend her. And frankly, after what she did to Hilgrun, a bit of discomfort is the least bit of penance she can suffer."

"It's the collar," Celeste said, not taking her eyes off Rhys. "Get it off me and everything should be fine. Please, Rhys."

"What does it do?" the sorcerer asked.

"It cancels my magic. At least that's what Faedal said."

"It'sss obviousss it interferes with any magic aimed at her," Chassari added. She pulled a small flask from her belt and handed it to Celeste. "Thisss should dull the pain until we can deal with your collar."

"Just take it off, damn it," Celeste spat. She uncorked the potion and tossed it back, making a face as the healing liquid oozed down her throat.

"I'd rather you don't," Elara said, a dangerous note in her voice. "You owe me for Hilgrun."

Rhys knelt down in front of Celeste, searching her bloodied face for any trace of the friendly, helpful village cleric he had known since childhood. It was more a distant resemblance, as if an artist had tried to draw a portrait from a scattered, second-hand description. During the last day in the village, he had seen another side of Celeste, the hardened, bitter agent Thurguz had smuggled into the village, but even then she'd been caring and helpful, not a vengeful fury.

"I ... hardly recognize you," he admitted. "What happened back at the tower?"

"Apart from everyone literally fucking their brains out? Not much, really," Celeste hissed. "While I was beside myself with worry about you, no one else seemed to bother. No one had heard from you in over a week since you went to the Elven Woods. You could have been killed!"

"You could have asked Thurguz-" Rhys began.

Celeste spat. "The old man had made it abundantly clear that his idea of saving the Old Kingdom and dealing with his agents in peril differed vastly from mine. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction to grovel and ask for forgiveness. Not after the things he threw in my face."

"Is it true? Did you strike a bargain with Desire?" Rhys asked, fearing what she would say next. "How did you contact her anyway?"

Celeste exhaled slowly. "Believe you me, I regret that part every waking moment. And you of all people should know. After all, I found Her holy symbol in your room."

"I knew it!" Elara snapped. She chanted a short melody and a jagged, thorny club appeared in her hands. Living vines snaked around its length, coating the barbs in sticky, acrid sap.

"Rhys, all I wanted was to help you!" Celeste pleaded, snatching his wrists. "No one else in the Tower could get their heads out of the gutter for one gods-be-damned minute. Desire was the only one listening to my pleas and she gave me the power to aid you. So I did."

Rhys shot her a pained look. "How was killing Hilgrun and maiming Zentam helpful to me?" He pulled his hands from her vise-like grip. "How exactly did you help me? Last I remember, I managed to bring Borna and Astra'il back from the Elven Woods on my own."

Celeste's face fell and tears rolled down her cheeks. "If they hadn't interfered, I might have reached you before Faedal. Together, we could have ended him right then and there. And then we could be together like we were meant to, Rhys. My Rhys. All I need is you." Her eyes wandered, taking in Borna, Chassari and Elara. "You don't need these sluts. They will leave you the moment you stop being useful to them," she muttered so only Rhys could hear her.

"Do you even hear what you are saying?" Rhys snapped, taking a step back, his face a horrified mask. "Even if Hilgrun and Zentam were concerned about you or acting on Thurguz' orders to keep you in the tower, there was no need to murder them!"

"They were in my way!" Celeste snarled. "Don't you see what they are doing? They are trying to keep you from me!" She sobbed. "And it seems to work! Why would you rather spend your time drilling some elven pussy or - gods forbid - have your ass drilled by whatever that red monstrosity is when you could have me? You've known me all your life! I was like a sister to you!"

"Enough!" Rhys snapped, forcing himself to stay his hand. "I already have a sister. Don't you remember? And my little sister would never willingly hurt someone dear to her. Celeste, I hardly know you any more. It pains me to say this but Desire has completely erased anything I loved about you." He drew in a shuddering breath. "As much as it pains me, I will make sure that you will face trial for your murder of Hilgrun and assault on Zentam. You will come with us back to the Tower."

"I knew it!" Celeste shrieked. "They muddled your brain with their tits and asses, their enchanted pussies and honeyed mouths!" She reached behind her neck. The enchanted collar once again grew long, shadowy spikes and blades intercepting her fingers but Celeste didn't care. The shadows tore into her hand. Her ring finger fell to the floor and rolled on the uneven stones, but somehow the frenzied woman managed to tear open the flimsy clasp. Rhys and Elara stumbled backwards as a wave of unbridled magical energy erupted around her. Borna's tail came down, tearing a gash into Celeste's robe and the shoulder underneath. Celeste didn't care. She snapped a finger and her wounds healed. A quick word and her skin turned a dusky silver, deflecting the next hit of Borna's tail. Her eyes became twin pools of iridescent fire, mirroring the spell Rhys had unleashed to incinerate Faedal's remains.

Haloryth slid into his body, taking control. A shimmering ring of energy encircled Celeste as the frenzied woman erupted in a pillar of white-hot fire. Instead of torching Rhys, Elara, Borna, Chassari and most of the battlements, the flames were harmlessly diverted into the sky, leaving a bubbling crater behind.

"You will not harm my friends," Haloryth and Rhys said at the same time. "You may look like her but the Celeste I knew... she's gone. Stop this madness now, please!" Rhys added.

"Will you come with me if I do?" Celeste asked, a mocking note in her voice. "Will you let me pleasure you like these whores can never do? Will you let me pamper you in Dara's stead?"

"Don't you dare use that name to seduce me," Rhys snapped. "She would be disgusted at what you have become!"

"Then you leave me no choice," Celeste snarled. "You have to die, Rhys. Otherwise I will never be rid of you, of this unnatural desire to fuck you and only you." She raised her hands, gathering enormous amounts of power. Behind the castle's shattered keep, the lake roared as massive waves rippled through it. The peaks around the lake groaned and cracked under the strain suddenly put upon them. Violent tremors shook the ground, causing the battered castle to crumble even further. Dark clouds gathered overhead, thunder and lightning rippling through them.

Rhys invoked the magic-draining spell Thurguz had taught him under Storm Harbor but there was so much unbridled, furious power swirling around them, he had no idea how to even grasp it. He tried pushing Celeste against a nearby wall but his spell glanced off her like raindrops off a shingled roof.

"I'm not sure even the two of us together could stop her," Haloryth whimpered in the back of his mind. "I've never seen so much power!"

"We can't leave her here," Rhys snarled, unleashing a bolt of lightning at his former friend. Celeste howled incoherently as the spell tore through her without any lasting impact. "I don't want to be responsible for any more deaths she might cause!"

"I have no idea how to even tame this force of nature," Haloryth admitted. A thunderbolt slammed into the courtyard nearby with the force of a titan's mattock. Stones, mud and clumps of dirt rained down upon them. "I haven't seen anything like her before, not even at the zenith of Elven might."

On the far side of the courtyard, the first waves crested the parapets, crashing into the courtyard below. The walls cracked and shook like an irritated, ancient beast waking from a long slumber.

"Fine," Rhys sighed mentally with a heavy heart. "Get us out of here."

Guided by Haloryth's ancient mind, his hands went through complicated motions and shimmering pinpricks of light appeared on his friends' foreheads.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the world went sideways.

* * * *

Carver was dreaming.

His mind soared like an eagle, high above the Old Kingdom. Below, on a tapestry woven from green forests, golden fields and gray mountaintops, the Four Cities stood, united under his black-and-gold banner. The bells in Lordehome's cathedral rang in his glory and hymns were sung to his health. He saw himself in the rebuilt palace of Orran, resplendent in his white robes and the spired crown the elves had given the first human king as a gesture of unity. To either side, his queens. Marissa on his right, Tanith to his left. Lilith was there too, kneeling in front of him and worshiping his majestic lance. For some odd reason, in his dream she wore a jester's cap and nothing else, the bells tinkling merrily as her head bobbed up and down.

He sighed in his sleep as memories of the excessive dark elven orgy mingled with his dream. He saw Tanith grow a slender phallus, ready to spear herself into Marissa's wide-open pussy, still slick from the Handmaiden's secretions.

Suddenly, the hazy, arousing images shifted and he was back flying over his kingdom, a dark, angry shape guiding his path. South he turned, away from the sunlit plains of Lordehome, towards an area of unbridled storm. He broke through the clouds and recognized Skyview Lake and the castle he had gifted Faedal when he had made the fallen paladin his second-in-command.

It took his dream-self a moment to recognize the destruction someone had visited upon the castle. Gone was the singular tower, toppled into the courtyard which had turned into a cratered rock garden. And as he watched, bemused, he saw a young man accompanied by a purple-scaled serpentkind and some crimson-plated abomination wade through the debris. In a feat of rare magical might, a piece of the tower was thrown aside, revealing the shattered, broken form of Faedal.

His curiosity piqued, Carver flew closer, just in time to see Faedal's ignoble death by dagger through the eye.

"Watch closely," the harsh voice of Desire whispered into his ear. "This happened while you had your ass drilled by some lusty dark elves, dear Carver."

Faedal's corpse vanished in a burst of incandescent Hellfire, reduced to nothingness in mere moments.

"And you did nothing?" Carver asked his unseen Mistress.

"Yes, I did nothing. After half a century of raping and pillaging, Faedal bored me to death. He obviously was of no concern to you any more. Just make sure you choose your new allies wisely, dear Morgan, lest the next time the boy invokes his true potential, you might be on the receiving end of it."

He shot upright, wide awake and gasping for breath.

Next to him, he heard a barely restrained choke.

"Morgan, what is wrong with-" Marissa, frantically rummaging under their bed, managed to grab the chamber pot a mere moment before she upended her stomach. It went on for minutes, interspersed by curses and sobs, but eventually, the retching stopped.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?" Marissa demanded, limping to the wash table. She angrily cleansed her face and kept dousing her flushed cheeks with cool water. "That can't be all the Dark Elven swill we licked off Tanith and Lilith, can it?"

Carver eyed his second-in-command curiously. He sported a mild hangover and delicious soreness after the inevitable, exuberant and excessive orgy which had followed the successful conclusion of the blood sacrifice. He dimly remembered seeing Marissa as the center of attention, being serviced by Tanith, Lilith and about two handfuls of dark elven males in quick succession while he had enjoyed the strong hands and skillful tongue of a certain half-orc slave. Oh, how she had roared as he pounded her! And how delicious Marissa's thirst for him had been as she caught him being pleasured by someone else but her.

"Maybe you truly, finally have had your fill of Dark Elven cum," he said. "Look, your stomach is still full of that stuff." He pointed at the gentle swelling of her belly which hadn't been there a day ago.

"Believe you me, whatever I put in my mouth or ass earlier has already left," Marissa spat, pointing at the chamber pot. "But I feel like puking all over again, even if there's nothing left to spew." She strode to a table on the opposite side of the room and filled a cup with zesty wine. She downed the cup's contents in two long draughts. "At least the taste is..." she began, before hurrying back to the chamber pot and spewing again.

"Come here," Carver said, patting the mattress he lounged on. "Let me see what ails you."

Pale and shivering, Marissa slumped down next to him. "I've never felt so sick, Morgan. And I have had worse than this. Far worse." She tried a naughty grin but failed utterly.

Carver invoked a simple diagnostic spell, one of the basic healing rites every cleric knew. He touched Marissa's forehead, only to recoil in surprise as her condition was made clear to him.

"What? Is it terminal? Did that fucking Handmaiden make me ill?" Marissa screeched.

Carver shook his head in amazement. "No, my dear. You are the picture of health, Dark Elven aphrodisiac and its side effects aside. I believe you are with child."

"I am what?" Marissa flew to her feet. "That's impossible! I never stopped taking my herbs! I understand your desire for my pain but this is frankly ridiculous!"

Carver shook his head. "I am not vexing you, Marissa. Not when we are so close to finally finishing our dealings with the Dree'vex. I have need of you, as my loyal battle-mage and second-in-command. Even as the sheath for my flesh lance. Why would I torment you unnecessarily when Lilith can be had?"

"Because all our dealings with the blasted spider-fuckers are finally rubbing off on you maybe? I know how much you delighted in Lilith drilling your ass while you slobbered that half-orc's pussy."

"My enjoyment of those specific carnal pleasures does not relate in any way to how I treat my closest allies," Carver admonished her quietly. "I find the amalgam of the male and female form as displayed by this Dark Elven shape-changing magic highly arousing. As did you, going by the grunts and squeals you uttered when both sisters railed you at once."

"Let's not talk about cocks right now," Marissa groaned. "I can't be pregnant and even if I were, it would take weeks to make me this sick." She swallowed hard to keep her stomach down.

"Here's an idea. You lay down and rest while I have a little talk with our hostesses. I'll get to the bottom of this and then I'll make you whole again. Promise."

"Thank you, Morgan." Marissa crumpled on the vacated bed and pulled a sheet over her body.

Carver bent over her and breathed a kiss onto her clammy forehead. It was obvious this was no ordinary pregnancy. And despite himself, he found this highly intriguing. The jolts of energy caused by her suffering didn't hurt either.

He used the wash table to cleanse himself then found a fresh robe and his belt, hung with pouches and sheaths filled with all manner of magical trinkets he might need. Dressed and prepared, Carver left in search of Tanith and Lilith.

The house was dark and still. None of the usual servants were about nor any guards. Carver wreathed himself in a few spells - night vision and comprehension seemed the most pressing.

He found the sisters just a few rooms away, exhausted, sweaty and cum-stained in the midst of a tangle of bodies. Tanith still wore the shape-changing spell, her slender lance wedged between her sister's plump buttocks while Lilith's head rested on the blonde halfling's ass adorned with crescent-shaped bite marks. The stench of sex and Ecstasy Ephemera was heavy in the air.

Quietly, Carver stepped across the tangle of flesh and touched Tanith's shoulder. Her hand came away from Lilith's breast and touched his.

"Hmmm?" the dark elf muttered, turning onto her back. Her erection pointed at the ceiling as her eyes slowly opened. Her gaze met Carver's and her hand made a few quick gestures.

"You seem awake and very serious. Trouble?" she silently asked.

He bent over her and whispered in reply. "I am not sure. Could I bother you with breakfast and conversation?"

A simple nod was his answer. Tanith locked gazes with him and closed her fingers around his hand. No doubt contemplating if she should seduce me, Carver thought. He decided to test Tanith, keeping his hand neutral and loose so she could do with it as she pleased.

Instead of guiding his hand to her hardness, Tanith ended the shape-changing spell and used his hand to come lithely to her feet.

"I am allowed to cleanse myself beforehand, am I not?" Tanith whispered as she slipped from the tangle of bodies. Lilith grunted and groped around behind her back before rolling onto the other side. Within a few seconds, her breathing had steadied again.

"By all means," Carver replied, his voice as quiet as hers. Together they left the room and moved deeper into the building, into a bedroom not too dissimilar to the one Carver and Marissa shared. Tanith lit a few candles before freshening up. She wound a robe made form dark purple fabric around her slender body and turned to face Carver. He made a gesture across a table which laid itself. Once platters, mugs and cutlery were in place, assorted foodstuffs appeared, including a pot of fragrant herbal tea.

Tanith giggled playfully. "My, for a man who dines of the suffering of his allies, you sure know how to spoil me. I would have been entirely comfortable with simple Priest's Vespers." She slid into an armchair and poured herself a mug. "I'm not complaining, mind you."

"It's not always about sustenance but pleasure as well," Carver said, slicing open a warm bread roll. "After all the carnal delights we partook in last night, I felt it was time for the simple pleasure of a wholesome breakfast." He leveled an earnest gaze on Tanith. "Now that your standing in the eyes of the Chaos Queen is restored, I think it is time that we sealed our deal. Events have transpired on the Surface which I need to assess myself."

"I have the feeling your Dragon Stone isn't the only thing you are eager to talk about," Tanith mused, sipping her tea. "Delicious."

Carver slowly spread butter and honey on his roll, gauging the right words to breach the topic at hand. He decided to be blunt, something he knew Tanith didn't mind.

"Marissa is pregnant. You don't happen to know how that could be, considering she usually prepares against this very possibility?"

Tanith's smile was evident, even partly hidden behind her tea cup. "Interesting. So the Queen's Favor does manifest in humans? How far along is she?"

Carver bit into his honeyed roll and chewed slowly. "She exhibits vicious morning sickness. I'm no midwife but if I correctly remember my time with the healers at the House of Justice, that would be four, five weeks in? Her belly has swollen a little as well, which only adds to my confusion."