Vaid Empire: Conquest Ch. 61

Vaid Empire: Conquest is a massive fantasy series that aims to mix erotica with the quality of a published novel. New chapters and artwork are released every month absolutely free, with the completely optional possibility to receive early access. The Series focuses heavily on worldbuilding, story, and characters.

The world of Ayphieal is shattered and chaotic, with kingdoms and tribes of six distinctive races vying for territory amongst themselves. It is only when a young human warrior finally pushes back against the chaos that the world begins to shift towards order.

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19th of Fonic, 13 AVE.

Kingdom of Harin, Great City of Visti.

The great azure city stood wearily silent as their new king addressed them in the central square. Packed shoulder to shoulder, they appeared to be a sea flooding the surrounding buildings.

"You may cease your whispering rumors, for I shall confirm them to be true! Spirexia has fallen!" King Siril announced, the second of House Harlin to hold the name. "King Rolir has knelt before his conqueror, placing his crown into the hands of The Empire!"

A cacophony of shouts erupted throughout the city square as Princess Witla turned her head to peer at her brother. Standing beside him upon the high steps of Visiti Castle's entrance, she watched his blue cloak fluttering in the wind. He had been decorated in the most lavish and ornate golden armor a man could purchase, yet it did little to conceal the reality of his slender frame. On his other side stood Minister Ovax, a man that continued to unsettle her each time she glanced over.

"We stand alone, yet not unprepared! Your fathers, your bondmates, your sons, many have taken up arms to defend our great kingdom!" Siril loudly explained, gesturing to the armored soldiers standing in formation before the stairs. As only a fraction of the men he had ordered to be trained, there was no reason to make mention of the fact that their conscription hadn't entirely been voluntary, for all already knew. "From the moment I gained my father's throne, I've worked to forge the greatest force the north has ever witnessed!"

Her twin's words stirred a mixture of worry and annoyance within Witla. Spirexia should have held for FAR longer, granting them greater time to prepare. Though they had intended to join the defense of their less than friendly neighbor, Rolir had proven to be a fool. Her brother had managed to utilize experts to gather a worthy army, it was true, though war within their own borders was now unavoidable.

A cold breeze carried over the listening masses as Siril continued his speech, his words echoing off the surrounding buildings. As was tradition, the majority of the white stone structures had been painted in the deep blue shade mixed from the ariz flower. Rumored to be the source of human civilization, the great city stretched forth like an azure sea, larger than any in The Human Basin.

Witla studied the endless crowd, met with expressions of enthusiasm. They responded to his words eagerly, though she couldn't help but notice the many worried faces interspersed throughout. Fear, concern, even anger could be found buried wherever she glanced.

Siril unsheathed his golden sword, raising it high above his crowned head. "We shall show these invaders the might of Harin, of House Harlin, of the civilized people of the north! Let them tremble at the sight of our armies, at the mention of our gods, and at the strength of the last great human kingdom!"

Lips tightening to a thin line, Witla watched cheers erupt before them. She could imagine their father in her brother's place. He'd have known how best to proceed, while her brother hadn't so much as bloodied his hands during a royal hunt. She had held the old Siril's hand as he died, the news of Spirexia's invasion proving too much for his old heart, and now they were left with little more than a boy in golden armor, playing with his new army.

21st of Fonic, 13 AVE

Domani, Capital of The Vaid Empire.

Every instinct begged him to turn around and flee this folly. His feet felt as though they carried weights, each step requiring effort as he approached his dread.

"Grand Imperial Architect Lalian." One of the guards beside the heavy stone door greeted him. A male, it appeared that Vixin's protective orders had already begin to ease. "Her majesty didn't warn us of your arrival."

"Quite a lofty title. A simple Lord Lalian will do for now." He replied with a smile he didn't feel. "I've come of my own accord. Will that be an issue...gentlemen?"

The second guard laughed. "Course not. Our guest is hardly busy these days."

Lalian nearly grimaced at the cruelty in his tone, remembering his own blade. Was he really so different? "In that case, if you'd please..."

Heaving open the door, the guards stood aside as Lalian peered into the darkness. Last time, candles had been lit in preparation for his arrival. This time, a guard pulled a torch from the damp walls and offered it.

Reluctantly he stepped inside, the flickering light caressing the cell bars as he passed. Where he had concealed the dagger during his last visit felt empty, for there was no reason to hide the object he carried now. Warm against his palm, the liquid in the shallow wooden bowl sloshed quietly.

Every step removed an opportunity to change his mind, feeling his heart quickening as he crept forwards. The screeching of hinges echoed as the heavy door was pulled shut, removing his last opportunity to flee.

Near the end of the corridor, exactly where he had left her, he reluctantly found his target. Her green Lanthian eyes flashed open at his approach, falling to a glare as she looked away.

Wordlessly he unlocked the cell, placing the torch into a holding slot welded onto a cell bar beside the door. Its position illuminated her form, struggling to rise from the floor. She slumped back against the wall, her bound legs preventing her from sitting comfortably.

"I've...well, I've come to apologize." He announced, fighting to keep the trembling from his voice.

Granting no response, her angry gaze remained focused upon the floor. Her silence almost made him prefer the harsh words she had flung at him.

"You're still a Lanthian." The word tasted like poison in his mouth, though he sighed. "You remain complicit in your mistresses' crimes, yet I...I acted with emotion rather than logic."

"Then you come to beg for my forgiveness?" She finally spoke, never meeting his gaze. "If you want it, finish what you started."

Gritting his teeth, he felt the bowl in his hands tremble. "I shall never require forgiveness from the likes of you. I needed to say the words...nothing more."

"If that's all, leave. Scamper back to your human masters." Her damaged wing twitched with pain, causing her nude body to shift in her tight bindings.

A moment was required to calm his nervous fury. "We're not quite finished. I've...come to forge a bargain. You see, I was sent to discover your purpose in crossing our border. I've yet to fail my master, and I don't intend to now over...you."

"Ah, then the pet seeks to serve?" Her chuckle sounded bitter, lacking the vicious tone of their previous encounter. "What a good boy, though I'm afraid you'll be disappointed."

Remembering the dagger hurling through the air, he attempted to calm his anger. "Truthfully...I don't believe I will be. They shall not execute you until my work is done, and we've both learned that you're unable to take your own life."

Finally meeting his gaze, her glare held every hatred a living being could conjure. "Torture, then?"

Momentarily stunned by her look, he slowly moved to crouch, placing himself closer to eye level. "Perhaps...I'd have once considered such a solution. Perhaps even recently, until we last spoke. Before I nearly..." His words hung in the air until he shook his head. "No. Instead, we'll simply talk."

"Why would I ever utter a useful word to you?"

Lalian looked around the damp cell, the torch light temporarily holding back the darkness. "Your companions knew they couldn't risk enduring capture. Such was their training. Such was yours as well, though here you are. If...if I may provide ways for you to tolerate your imprisonment, I predict it's likely you'll talk. It's a far gentler solution than one of your kind deserves...though the outcome holds a logical likelihood of success."

The hatred in her eyes dampened at his explanation, focusing on the bowl in his hand.

"Ah, but first, I made mention of a bargain. Tell me, what are they feeding you? Priem stems, no doubt. They'll provide enough nutrients to maintain your life, though...little else." He held out the wooden bowl, allowing her to see its contents. "This, however...is something you're more accustomed to."

"Is that...Rinthian soup?" she asked, momentarily forgetting her resentment as its smell reached her green nose.

"I still recall our traditions." He tapped the side of his head. "Call it a curse. In any case, this bowl shall be yours, if you'll only grant me a single word. Your...name."

Hardly able to pull her gaze from the source of the intoxicating odor, she allowed confusion to claim her expression. "To what purpose?"

Safe from her anger, albeit momentarily, Lalian was surprised to find himself more nervous than before. An exposed and bound female peered at him, hanging upon his explanation. He'd need to open his mouth now, to utter...something. "W...well, cooperation can hardly be viable when we've yet to be introduced."

Falling into a scowl, she appeared to consider his words, her stomach begging for sustenance. Her resistance slowly faded, and she gritted her teeth in annoyance. "You want my name? Fine. It'll do you no good, wingless worm. Anthara. May you choke on it before your death."

"Anthara..." He repeated, tasting the name. It held the undeniable ring of a Lanthian name, allowing his own anger to slowly flare within his chest.

She shifted in her bindings. "Now, is your word worth more than I believe?"

Hesitating, he nodded before standing up. "I'll...have to assist you."

Glaring, she relented as she opened her mouth. Arms bound in several places behind her back, she remained kneeling as he gently pressed the small bowl to her green lips. He tilted it lightly, allowing the soup to slowly pour down her throat.

The sight stirred an odd sensation within him. He ensured she had time to savor the taste, allowing her to enjoy her reward while his hatred simmered. After her final swallow, he stepped back quickly, despising the thought of serving her.

She lowered her gaze as she returned to slump against the wall, the green of her cheeks deepening with a hint of embarrassed anger. "If that's all...go."

"Happily...though I'll return." Lalian vowed with a scowl of his own. He turned away, retrieving his torch. She lowered herself back to the floor, darkness reclaiming her as he left her behind.

With his heart hammering in his chest, he knocked upon the stone door. His plan had been a success, yet only a single word replayed in his mind as the hinges squeaked. "Anthara..."

25th of Fonic, 13 AVE

Kingdom of Spirexia, Spiri.

"Please, come in!" The Arkos man greeted her as she entered his quiet shop. A thin and wiry man, he folded his dark gray hands inside the sleeves of his orange robe. "I was overjoyed when your servant made today's appointment. May I get you something to drink?"

With a white cloak concealing much of her form, the hooded woman shook her head. She glanced about the small shop, hidden eyes tracing over the shelves. They held paints of all colors, loosely organized to fit alongside the strange plants that formed their ingredients. Unsold paintings remained stacked atop a nearby countertop, while the most detailed works decorated the walls. "I take it business hasn't been kind?"

The Arkos shrugged off embarrassment. "The...occupation hardly encourages spending. Still, you could find no other artist more eager to accept the project your servant proposed than I."

"Occupation? What did you say your name was?"

Suddenly nervous as he peered at her white cloak, he granted her an exaggerated bow. "The Great Kareom, my lady. I'm at your service."

"Very well, Kareom. The Empire's 'occupation' here is permanent, yet if you handle my request well, I can promise a flood of customers when stability returns." The young woman stated, slowly pacing through the small room. A cushion had been placed in the center, sitting across from a table where a massive canvas had already been prepared. "A day will come when everyone shall wish to meet the man that immortalized a princess."

"Princess?" He straightened up, his orange eyes peering closer. "Then you're..."

She pulled back her hood to reveal her face. "Imperial Princess Cendra of House Vaid, firstborn daughter of The God Emperor." She smirked, basking in her titles.

Kareom immediately dropped to a bow, only to tilt his head curiously. "My lady...are you certain of your request? Your servant's explanation was quite-"

"Of course, I would not waste my time without knowing exactly what I seek. Now rise and tell me if you're capable of completing this task, or if I shall need to search for another."

The horned man eagerly beckoned her closer with a smile. "No, no, please, I'd never refuse a patron as...how do you say...divine as one such as yourself. Come, allow me to show you what I've prepared."

Approaching the table, she studied the massive canvas, noting that it'd stand nearly as tall as her when vertical. Her hand traced the odd texture of the white material.

Kareom pointed proudly. "The hide of a widrae, native to The Shai Domain. If stored properly, it shall preserve the paint I intend to use for more than a millennium. Your servant requested longevity, and so I grant it." He grinned. "Acquiring a widrae canvas of this size was...well, it required some asking around. As you can see, I shall fulfill all of your requests."

Pleased, Cendra turned to approach the cushion. "Shall I be placed here, then?"

Kareom scurried to her side, adjusting pillows that had already been carefully placed. "Of course, my lady. Requests such as this are...rare here, though I sought to make you as comfortable as my little shop can provide. Will this be...satisfactory?"

"Indeed, it'll do. I'd like to begin, if you don't mind." Cendra said, already seeking the clasp of her cloak.

"Please, of course, princess. Shall I...look away?" His dark gray cheeks blushed.

"Don't be a fool." The clasp unlatched, allowing the cloak to slide from her bare skin. She straightened up as her naked body was revealed to the strange horned man.

For a moment he forgot himself, eyes bound to her exposed form. His body jerked as he forced himself from his stupor, gesturing to the cushion. "I...please, make yourself comfortable. When you've settled in, I shall begin."

Elegantly mounting the cushion, she placed herself upon her back, allowing her legs to part. The intended focus of the painting rested between her soft thighs, a warm treasure that all desired an opportunity to look upon.

The Arkos studied his subject, unable to keep the blush from his features as he concentrated. He adjusted the canvas a final time. "Are you certain of this, princess? I could capture your entire form, if you'd like."

"Another time, perhaps. For now, do as I've requested." Her tone came firmly yet lacked any harshness. The man had been difficult to find, after all. Her slaves had required several days to select a candidate that matched her requirements. Oh, Spiri hadn't lacked for highly skilled artists, yet this one's fluency in her native tongue was passable.

"Of course, princess." Kareom replied before beginning his work, rolling back the sleeves of his robe.

She remained still as she waited, vulnerable before his studying eyes. Once, she may have felt embarrassment, yet as she sensed the man's steadily developing arousal, she couldn't help but chuckle to herself. It was only natural for her royal body to be desired, and as he continued his work, she knew that the very pride of House Vaid would soon be permanently encapsulated. The proof of her bloodline's superior beauty, the very source of her legacy in the form of her son, she wished to capture every detail of her womanhood. Such would be a fitting gift for Clin, and perhaps even an acceptable apology.

"Tell me, are Arkos truly so common here?" Cendra ventured after a long period, briefly breaking his intense concentration. "I've encountered several of your kind during my duties."

"We are close to The Kingdom of Norok, my lady." His accent flavored the name as it passed his lips. "Many of us come seeking trade, and some stay. Of course, that was before the occu-" He stopped his words, choosing instead to clear his throat before focusing on his work.

"That would explain the nature of your new Queen Regent, I suppose." Cendra pondered, choosing to meet his studying gaze with one of her own. It came as no surprise that the man originated from Narok, rather than the so-called true desert of Wonakaros. He held the poise and slender frame of a creature of wealth, rather than the brutality of a desert Arkos. It intrigued her to imagine fighting against such warriors, knowing her own father had nearly fallen to Arkos assassins. That was a thought that brought an involuntary twitch of her lips.

Her mind fell back to the memories of her training as several hours slowly crept by, remembering Dominax's teachings. She calmed her thoughts, retaining her patience as she explored her own mind. Her thoughts were only broken when Kareom slowly stood from his tiny stool.

"I believe...we've arrived as a satisfactory start. Please, princess, judge for yourself." The Arkos politely smiled.

Gracefully rising to her feet, she strolled over to the table, ignoring the hints of the man's manhood pressing against his robe. She sensed his throbbing desperation, her senses feeling sharper and more precise after the previous long hours of delving into her own being. She appraised the canvas. "A worthy start."

"It'll require several additional sessions, my lady. Possibly even a full moon before it may be completed." He unrolled his sleeves, folding his hands. "Yet seeing as you are currently my sole patron, my entire focus shall be in your hands."

Satisfied, Cendra retrieved her cloak, concealing herself. "You did well, Kareom. I shall return once per day until we're finished, as I'm quite eager for its completion. This may be your masterpiece, mind you."

Orange eyes widening, he nodded his head, his aroused blush remaining. "Oh, I agree, princess."

30th of Fixuin, 13 AVE

Kingdom of Spirexia, Spiri.

Clin held his sword in both hands, his left near the tip, the right loosely grasping the hilt. He leaned against the railing of the barracks roof, peering at the white blade. The sunlight gleamed off its surface, newly polished, yet he frowned.