Sufferance Ch. 14

*Ah, regrettable. Very well,* it said with that empirical calm.

Without lingering further, the mindflayer left the cavern on its own two feet, no doubt going in search of something to eat.

The larger consequences of that prisoner escaping crossed my mind briefly but didn't stay long when Kerse removed my belt and remaining weapons and tossed them to the side. When he began to methodically remove my bracers, my boots, and my armor, I still hoped I was wrong—simply because I couldn't talk and he wasn't responding to any thoughts of mine.

"N-n—!" I stuttered when I discovered I was indeed not wrong; he was loosening the thongs at my hips and soon tugged my pants over the swell of my hips and down my thighs.

Even being unable to move or speak, I could feel the relatively cool air of the cavern on my sex, and my skin knew every measure of bare exposure as Kerse peeled my pants off my legs. Slowly, deliberately, he raised my arms above my head for me and lifted my shirt next.

While the shirt briefly covered my face and my eyes, I felt Kerse's tongue flick one of my nipples and it responded, tightening into a hard nub. I wanted to glare at him when he removed the shirt entirely and tossed it aside, but even that freedom had been taken from me. My face felt passive and expressionless.

He loomed over me—more than he ever had before due to those massive, dark wings—and removed everything else on me. He unplaited all the smaller braids in my hair, leaving it loose, and he slipped Callitro's ring from my finger. Shyntre's blue pendant had caught his attention especially and he had yanked that away so violently that the necklace broke and it was possible I had a mark from the chain at the back of my neck.

All of my clothing and possessions he placed far from me, at a far side of the cavern, and I lay helpless and nude on the hard stone floor. When Kerse returned, he actually did a cavity search on me; he checked my mouth and both my lower orifices for anything else that could be hidden. I understood why, I really did, but I still squealed a wordless protest. It was the claws!

Fully aware of the discomfort he had caused, he took a few moments to soothe my flesh with long his tongue, lapping between my legs. I could not lift my head to be able to see anything except his newest appendages rising high from his back, but I could still feel every rasping lick. I could grant that it felt good but the lack of being able to form any tension in my lax body precluded any possibility of orgasm in the near future—but that didn't seem to be what Kerse was going for anyway.

I sighed, and he stopped once my mind had quieted a bit.

The next little while consisted mostly of Kerse creating his own magical circle using chalk and salt that he had stolen from my belt. I lay where he had placed me, several long paces away from the former prison hole. Though the circle seemed to have more in common with the arcane than it did a divine altar, I instinctively feared that the use would be the same.

*Kerse— Kerse—!* I had intended to try saying that full name I'd heard Wilsira use that one time on the teleport circle, whether I got the pronunciation right or not. However, it was true—as he'd commanded, I couldn't think the entire name.

I kept trying anyway. *Please talk to me! What are you doing?*

A slight pause implied he could hear me, but he still didn't speak. He murmured under his breath as he drew a circle large enough to circumscribe both of us. I tried to cajole him, coax him, even tried opening a bargain, but as soon as I saw an expression on his face that was like one I'd seen him give Wilsira, I stopped.

I managed to swallow; he did allow that to be voluntarily so I wouldn't choke on my own saliva as I stared at the ceiling. A little bit at a time, I started being able to shift my eyes around more easily and I could follow his progress.

*Are you going to kill me?*

He watched me a moment, and answered, "Killl mmeanns eatt. Nno. Ssacrifficce."

I'd be just as dead either way, but maybe I might've preferred being eaten. I needed a moment to control the nausea or I was going to purge while lying on my back. Not a good thing. *No. Please, don't, not like that.*

"Mmusstt bbee gennuinne losss," he answered. "Nnott... innconvenniencce. Yyouu askked mmy nnamme, accepptted mmeee."

Maybe Qivni had had a point in reprimanding me for that one. I was not moved by his confession of affection, such as it was, as I would much rather keep breathing. I actually shuddered, and managed a tiny shake of my head.

*Wouldn't your mother be the greater sacrifice? We could go back and get her.*

He paused a second, then continued both drawing his symbols and sprinkling his salt. "Iff hherr, nnott enough mmagic to ffinnishhh rrittuall. Nnew bonnd. Nneed yyouu."

*It...it works the other way, too? If a Priestess dies and her Draegloth survives, his power is reduced?*

Kerse nodded. "Unnlesss bonnd isss sseverred fforrevver inn Ssacrifficce."

So my death was literally going to come between mother and son, and it would free him without crippling his magic? This was assuming he wasn't just straight-up Abyssal insane, which was still a possibility. Not that it mattered to me this instant; knowing which wouldn't change his actions.

*What 'new home' did the Illithid mean?* I asked.

"Abyssss," he replied readily. "Crrosss ovverr."

Oh, Lolth. Was that what he was doing? Preparing to open a gate?

Maybe he expected to be able to use those wings on the other side.

No amount of begging that I could do would save me from this if that was his desire, and had been this entire time. That motive that no one had been able to discover, ever since the Illithid had nudged him in the direction of...separateness. Freedom. It had probably taken little effort on the mindflayer's side to start the change, and once begun, they both only had to be patient. And wait.

What struck me most, perhaps, was how much self-control the Draegloth now seemed to have. Far less like the half-breed that I'd first met in the candle chamber and again at the worship ball. His maturity actually reflected his age now, as if he were fully Drow.

Once Kerse was finished with his circle, he wasted no more time; he began his ritual. He parted my legs and kneeled between them, hunched over and chanting while I held damnably still for him. He caressed my bare skin, my hips and belly up to my breasts, over my throat and added a stroke across my cheek while making eye contact.

"Ssirranna Thhallennssarrecci," he whispered my name in that Abyssal voice and I shuddered involuntarily.

It had done something to me...it was almost as if I could feel both his slower breath and my panicked one at the same time. I was frightened nearly mindless, as I had been during my last trial with the Sisterhood on the altar, as I had often been under Juarinia. I kept trying to think of a way to save myself, but the simple problem remained: he had something that had control over me, and I had not yet been able to break it.

It did not look likely that I would break it, either; he had been bound by something for five centuries...and he had only recently found a way out.

I could feel the build of energy, the dark, slow rise, and I could hear the droning hum of low voices and whispers that seemed far away and shrouded in black. Kerse may have been making all those sounds or was only one of many to join them, I couldn't tell. My vision swam here and there but I kept trying to focus on the Draegloth and what he was doing as either my arousal or his became stronger.

I soon regretted trying so hard. While sufficient magic coursed through the runes and within the circle around us, Kerse finally removed his loincloth, setting it and the talisman down deliberately, one on either side of my open legs.

I saw what he had been hiding from Wilsirathon for the past few weeks. I saw exactly why he had stopped coupling with her or even stripped naked in front of her.

He'd had a good reason to hide it.

His genitals had changed even more since the last time I'd seen them. He was erect, and the bulge at the base was still there. It had always been unevenly shaped and an of appreciable size and girth...but now I had no other description for it except demonic in the truest sense. The pointed tip had two collapsible spikes protruding, one on each side that seemed able to stand up at will. The shaft itself possessed bony bumps and more than a few had risen to disturbingly sharp points, as if a claw or talon was growing through. The knot at the base now possessed three fine rows of small barbs.

If this was what Lelinahdara had meant about a demonic coupling being "scarring," then I did not see how she had even survived it. I knew Kerse needed his climax to further fuel the ritual, to push power it as high as it needed to go, but that meant he was going to fuck me with that tortuous endowment. It would shred me from the inside out, make me bleed just as my sister had...

I felt more tears falling out of my eyes and trailing into my ears, though like everything else, I could do nothing about it. Instead of having my throat cut, I would bleed out from the other end.

*Kerse—, please, no...*

Helpless begging was useless begging, but I couldn't stop the thought. I couldn't see any way to turn this to my advantage, not if I couldn't move, and—almost more—not when I knew just about everything that motivated him and yet I still couldn't find something with which to bargain.

Because I understood too well. I would do the same in his place.

He opened his yellow eyes and looked at me as he leaned forward and lined himself up with my sex. I whined; I could feel it, feel everything, and I couldn't move out of the way!

*Ssorryy,* he thought, and pushed half of his reformed weapon inside me.

I cried out only once at first, more shocked than anything. When I realized next that I could feel his pleasure with my pain, and vice versa—! When I grasped that Kerse would also feel every shred and tear as if it were happening to him, too, and that he would *still* go through with this, he wasn't going to stop, because he wanted this so much...I lost any self-control.

I started screaming long before we got to the barbs at the base. He allowed it and did not silence me. Perhaps I was screaming for the both of us.

******

(Earlier)

The dark silhouette warmed her bare feet in sun-splashed, red sand. She stepped to her left and turned to look out over the far horizon, the land that seemed to have no end. Her dress was white, a stark contrast to the bare skin of her elegant arms and shoulders and throat. The cloth fluttered in the dry breeze.

Then she looked back at him.

*Either now....or in another millennium.

*The sacrifice will be you, and those few whom you truly know. Or it will be given to another at a future time.

*But it will happen, one way or another. Believe me, Consort, it will.

*You can't all hide down there in the dark forever.*

For the hundredth time in as many years, the Consort currently stationed at House Itaun had ripped himself out of his reverie, gasping in sweat-soaked sheets. Like every other time, he had known he wouldn't be returning to sleep any time soon.

Unlike most of the other times, however, he arose and went to his vanity without delay. He reached into a drawer for a bloodstone given to him long ago, that he hadn't used in years. He clasped it tightly in his right hand.

"Shyntre," he whispered. "Brother. Answer me."

*****

(Present)

*Nno...nno, nno...!*

I had thought, in my delirious state, that when he withdrew, when pain spiked viciously and pleasure rose and fell abruptly, that the gate had been opened. I had thought that he didn't need my body anymore, he was done, and somehow I had survived, I had won, if only for the short time that it would take me to bleed out. I already knew I lay in a puddle of it.

I heard a high and loud scream of pure, hot anger. I almost thought it sounded familiar. Or it could just be the calls of the Abyss; I could see them being very good mimicking those voices one knew best.

"GET AWAY FROM HER!"

"Jael! Damn you, stop!"

"Brilliant tactician, that one."

"Shut up and shield her, mage!"

"Yes, Lead Sister."

My lids were so heavy to lift, but I managed to peek and make out Kerse crouching over me still. He was splattered with blood from the waist down and the white stripe of his mane stood straight up in spikes as he roared an answer to the intruders in the form of a magical blast that stopped any immediate assault.

"Jael, you up?"

"Yeah. What the fuck are those?"

"They're wings! Don't you know anything? Gaelan, break the circle!"

"Lead?"

"Do what he says!"

So there actually were intruders. It wasn't a trick of the Abyss.

Within a few seconds, something that may have been a small bolt from a crossbow pistol exploded at the edge of Kerse's circle and near my head. I managed to turn and see a thick, viscous fluid filled with fine particulates spread rapidly over several of the runes as if they'd caught fire, and watched it dissolve some of the salt.

Next I felt aching pain flow across my chest as the magic began to collapse; I felt loss, isolation...yet I might have a chance to live and I couldn't believe a team had actually come to help me. But the anger and encroaching despair from Kerse that swarmed me through the still-existing bond sapped away any elation, or hope.

The Draegloth howled and took an aggressive stance over me, clearly ready to meet the next comer head-on. He ground out something I didn't understand and at nearly the same instant I heard a blast strike and a familiar curse in the direction of my rescuers.

"Keep those shields up, potion pusher! Gaelan, Jael, flank him and try not to get hit in the teeth. Force him away from her."

At first, that wasn't happening and Kerse wouldn't move. For a brief moment, Jael fully engaged Kerse within my view and with even more fury than I'd witnessed during her trials. She'd become faster than she had been, and she was pushing herself hard. I saw her sword rip through one of his newborn wings and I threw back my head and screamed at the same time he did.

"Kerser'in'chowcz, haganidtezj!" The youngest Red Sister took advantage of the twin cries to shout that command she'd learned from Qivni. She seemed briefly surprised when it wasn't instantly effective.

Fortunately for her, the Draegloth also hesitated as if he was surprised it hadn't worked as well. It was just enough time for Shyntre to hit the half-breed with his own concussive blast, finally forcing some distance between his body and mine.

It didn't help my mind, though. I felt every strike that Jael and Jaunda landed as they flanked him, and I could do nothing but moan in agony with my head pounding a double beat. I had begun to wonder why I hadn't bled to death already. I almost wanted to. Was Kerse was keeping me alive?

Probably. He still needed me, after all.

"Where is it? Sirana, where is it?!" Shyntre demanded, kneeling down next to me and fumbling with one of his gems.

My mouth was open but no words would come out. My vision was fading fast and though I blinked, I couldn't see any waves of energy, I certainly couldn't make out the wizard's face. It was as if someone had Called Darkness around us but I failed to see the tactical advantage in that. My ears, however, remained sensitive in spite of my rapidly weakening state.

"Jaunda, he's got a talisman! You kill him, she dies with him! I heal her and he heals, too!"

"Fucking lovely," my Lead growled. "Do the minimum! Stop the fucking bleeding! Then find a way to break that spell!"

I think the wizard pressed something very small into my palm, though I could barely feel anything else that wasn't happening to Kerse by this point. Eventually I felt warmth seeping into my body that settled deep in my core. The sensation of my life draining away slowed, then ceased, and my vision began to return at a slug's pace. I felt no stronger and still could not move, but I was breathing more regularly.

"Sirana!" The mage shook my shoulder as if that would help. "Can you hear me?"

My eyes shifted toward him, and that was good enough for him. I could see again the life energy within his face, however it was completely blurred and I couldn't make out his expression.

"Where is the talisman? Does he have it?"

My eyes looked downward toward my feet, back up at him, flinched the next time Kerse was cut, then looked down again. Still a quick thinker, Shyntre understood and, to his credit he didn't hesitate to start searching through the puddle of blood.

The mage lifted up first the loincloth and I looked away from it. Dropping it, he searched more and found the smaller cloth, now completely soaked through, the shimmer of life within my blood steadily fading from it. I stared at the cloth and didn't look away.

"Confirmed," he said and began working with it on the floor next to me, where I couldn't see what he was doing.

Kerse knew, however, and he spoke another blast spell to get the Red Sisters off of him so that he could turn and charge Shyntre straight on.

"MAGE...!" Jaunda bellowed with shortened breath, and almost too late.

He jerked his head up and his eyes widened. His quick evocation talent saved his life as he flicked two half-gestures and Kerse collided with a magical shield. Shyntre stubbornly maintained his concentration and pushed back when the Draegloth tried to force his way through. The wizard remained on his knees and low to the ground.

Trapped by the shield and with Drow at his back no matter which way he faced, Kerse had no choice but to sprint off to the side again and gain distance for another attack. His next blast was for Shyntre but aimed too high because he was trying not to hit me, too; it gave the three Sisters the chance to close with him again. I moaned a loud protest when they hurt him again, when they hurt me.

"Gaelan, I need a boost!" the mage yelled.

Jaunda ordered, "Go! We got it!"

Gaelan soon fell to her knees in front of Shyntre, who grabbed her face in both bloody hands, the only place he could make skin contact. She gasped audibly as the wizard aggressively took the power he needed from her.

"Pick up the cloth," he commanded.

She did.

"Spit on it, it needs some of your saliva."

Hers?

"N-n-!" I tried to say. *No, you damned wizard! Don't pass it off onto her!*

Gaelan glanced at me, and the horror of my condition was reflected in her face. I watched her spit on the cloth knowing full-well the high risk she posed to herself. Shyntre certainly wasn't going to risk it, but it was his knowledge and ability that might push the bond hard enough to break it. Gaelan was there to absorb the inevitable backlash. If Shyntre failed, though, she would get tangled up in it with me.

*Don't. No! Wait!*

Shyntre cast his spell, chanting with hands still planted on her face. I felt metaphysically hard jerks inside my head and chest, as if an invisible grappling hook was attached to each, almost the way the Duergar had once caught Jael's leg. The mage was none too gentle as he hurried to free me.

I felt Kerse cry out in denial and try to hold on to the fraying connection. *Ssirranna, hhellp uss!*

I might only be able to describe my immediate reaction as "solidifying" my heart and my head, desperately trying to hold on to the barbs buried there.

"Fffuck, Sirana, don't help him!!" Shyntre growled hoarsely; he was trembling from unseen effort. "Let go!"

Jael jabbed a knife into my side and I screamed, as did Gaelan.

*Sirana, no, that's not you. Let him go,* I heard her plead. *Look at me, Sister, remember me. If it's too much, take it out on me like you did before, when you were new to us. I'm still here. That's my role!*