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Chapter Text

SCREECH

Queen Reyna the Gracious sat up in bed as that horrible noise seemingly ringed throughout the whole region.

It was a dark and stormy night, and somehow a goblin had entered the grounds of the Founder’s Palace. Now it was out there somewhere, lurking about and ruining not only the sleep of the Queen of Ravarra, but that of everyone from the servants to the knights.

SCREECH

The door to Reyna’s bedchamber opened, and Warden Anselmo entered, flanked by two other Royal Guards.

“Where is it?” She asked.

“In the gardens somewhere, Your Grace,” he told her, “It might take us a while to track it down. But, don’t worry, Your Grace. We’ll find the bastard.”

SCREECH

The horrid noise put everyone on edge.

Reyna nodded, “Do what you have to. Try to isolate it if you can, and whatever you do, don’t let it get inside.”

“Permission to sic the dragon on it, Your Grace?”

That was a good idea.

Having Incendio hunt the beast down would make it go a lot faster, and if he set something on fire, the rain tonight was heavy enough to put it out before it got dangerous.

Plus, he probably wouldn’t object to a midnight snack.

“Granted.”

Warden Anselmo and the Guards saluted and left, closing the door behind them.

SCREECH

All of this screeching was bringing back memories.

This was hardly the first time one of those beasts had managed to sneak down from the mountains of the Sierra Salvaje, and not even the first time one had entered the Ciudad Del Fundador, and even the Palace grounds like tonight.

In fact, this exact thing had happened four times before in Reyna’s life. But all four times, she hadn’t been alone.

SCREECH

Suddenly, Reyna was a little girl again.

She was on the verge of tears, scared for her life by whatever mad creature was out there shrieking, and likely hunting for a little girl to eat.

SCREECH

A pair of protective arms wrapped strongly around her.

She turned in the bed to face her mother, Santana, as she eased her with a caring smile.

“Shh, don’t you worry yourself, little Princess,” she hugged her, “Your mother’s here for you, and if that screeching cunt tries to come anywhere near here, I’ll slice it’s head off myself.”

SCREECH

Suddenly, Reyna was a young adult again.

She was attempting to calm her shaking breaths as the shrieks continued, not only for her sake, but for that of the unborn child growing in her belly.

SCREECH

A pair of strong arms wrapped gently around her.

She turned in the bed to face her husband and consort, Reynaldo, as he reassured her with a warm smile.

“Shh, don’t worry, my love. Everything will be alright. I won’t let anything happen to you,” he kissed her, “or to him. Ever. I promise.”

SCREECH

Suddenly, Reyna was an adolescent again.

She was shivering uncontrollably, frightened by the evil beast that was lurking about outside, just looking for an opportunity to come in and grab her.

SCREECH

A pair of gentle arms wrapped protectively around her.

She turned in bed to face her handmaiden and lover, Camila, as she comforted her with an affectionate smile.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, my little Princess,” she cooed, “I’m here for you. I promise. And, I’m not going anywhere.”

SCREECH

Now, she was an adult again.

Not in the present day, but it was after the other three. After her mother had left the Palace. After she’d been separated from Camila. After she’d lost Reynaldo.

And this time, she wasn’t the one to shake.

SCREECH

Her bedchamber door swung open.

“M-MAMI!!!”

Her young son, Esteban, scampered into the room. As he jumped into the bed, High Sir Sandro entered the room.

“My sincerest apologies, Your Grace, he would not remain in bed. He was too frightened, and before I knew it, he was already halfway here.”

Her little boy scurried across the bedsheets and wrapped his little arms around her, burying his little face in her nightgown.

She placed her arms around him and nodded to her son’s Guard, “It’s fine. He can stay.”

High Sir Sandro nodded, then turned to leave before casting one last glance over his shoulder.

“...You’re sure you’ll be alright, Reyna?”

Reyna smiled at her best friend, “I’ll be fine, Sandro. Thank you.”

He nodded again, looking at her with those eyes that she couldn’t look at him back with, then turned and left the room.

Reyna hugged her shivering boy close to her.

“Shh, it’s alright, my little Prince,” she promised, “Mother’s here. Always.”

SCREECH

And now, Reyna was back in the present.

And now, she was all alone.

Her mother was in another realm.

Her husband had died in the Obsidian War.

Her lover had been sent away decades ago.

And, her son was now in late adolescence, and had his own lover to care for.

Coo

She looked up as the dove, Paloma, flew into her room.

She smiled at God’s messenger and her son’s guardian, “Hello, little one.”

Coo coo

“I wish I could understand you,” she sighed, “I could use someone to talk to right now.”

Coo

The white bird flew over to the bedchamber door and perched herself on the latch.

Reyna looked at her for a moment.

Then, she nodded, and started to get out of bed.

“You’re right. As long as I’m still awake, I may as well check on everyone else. Thank you, Paloma.”

Coo

The bird took off and flew away, and Reyna smiled after her.

She opened the bedchamber door and crossed her main rooms to the double doors that led to the hallway.

She opened the door and stepped outside to find High Dame Marisol standing guard.

“Your Grace!” The Royal Guard’s sole woman saluted.

“At ease,” she nodded, “I couldn’t sleep, so I’m fancying a walk. Care to join?”

“Of course, Your Grace, but is it safe to leave your rooms with—?”

SCREECH

“...That lurking about?” High Dame Marisol finished.

“It’ll be fine, they’ll catch it soon,” she assured her, “Besides, if all else fails, I’ll have you here to protect me.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” she nodded, “Shall I fetch your tiara?”

“No,” she shook her head, “It’s just a short walk. Come. Let’s go.”

“At once, Your Grace.”

SCREECH

***

Even at night, the Founder’s Palace was busy as ever.

As Reyna strolled through the halls, servant and knight each stopped what they were doing to bow, curtsy, or salute to her before resuming with their current tasks.

SCREECH

Everyone stood still for but a second before returning to work, each of them adopting worried looks as the screeches continued.

Reyna wished there was more she could do. She didn’t like seeing the castle like this.

If she could, she would have strapped on her armor, grabbed her sword, and hunted for that screeching goblin herself, but that wasn’t her job. Right now, her job was to assure the Palace’s residents that everything would be alright while the Guards and the dragon hunted for the beast.

It wasn’t easy, but it was what she had to do.

SCREECH

Reyna came to the servant’s hall, and went to a door that she recognized. High Dame Marisol opened it for her, and she stepped inside.

“Your Grace!”

She held up a hand to stop them from getting up, “It’s fine. I just wanted to see how everyone was doing.”

“We’re alright, Your Grace,” he told her, “All things consider—.”

SCREECH

The little manservant, Gilberto, whimpered and hid his face under the bedcovers. Wizard Benedicto rubbed his back.

“The screeching is scaring Gilberto a bit, but I’ve got him. We’re alright, Your Grace. I assure you.”

Reyna nodded, “Very well. I’ll be off then.”

“Goodnight, Your Grace.”

“Goodnight.”

“Shh, it’s okay...” Reyna heard Benedicto say to Gilberto as they left, “It’s okay... I’m here...”

Poor little wrong-bodied Benedicto.

He’d been through so much.

Death, a rebellion, betrayal, and his sex change ritual on top of that.

Reyna was glad that he had Gilberto. After everything that had happened to him, he deserved happiness.

SCREECH

Reyna sighed, then continued her walk through the Palace.

***

SCREECH

After wandering through most of the Palace, Reyna decided to take a quick look through the stables.

She may not have been able to speak to animals like her son and magic users could, but she cared about them too. They deserved to be safe as well.

SCREECH

Whinny

Whinny

Reyna spotted the horses, Lina and Marco, nuzzling their noses together in a way that radiated comfort.

Even the horses had each other. It was cute. Reyna was happy for them.

She decided not to disturb them, and went on her way back into the Palace.

***

SCREECH

Finally, Reyna came to the hall where her son’s rooms were located.

Coming up to the double doors, she told High Dame Marisol to wait outside, then slipped in to go see her son.

As she came in, she caught her eye on the new painting on the wall.

Where there once had been an unattractive painting of the death of Queen Estela the Selfless—which Esteban had reportedly destroyed on purpose—there now stood a beautiful, much more appropriate work of art.

It was a painting of King Samuel and Prince Sol embracing each other lovingly in the woods while the moon shown down upon them. And, it had a title that fit it perfectly.

‘Two Lovers Hide in the Rays.’

Mewl

Mewl mewl

Reyna looked down to see the three cats, Antonio, Mariana, and Leo, cuddling up together in the daybed.

Even the cats.

Again, Reyna was happy for them.

She reached down and stroked their little fur coats, inciting many purrs in the process.

SCREECH

All three of the cats looked up. Reyna sighed and gave them a few more pets.

At least they had each other.

Finally, Reyna turned in the direction of the bedchamber.

She walked over to the chamber to check on her son and raised a hand to open the door...

“There once was a young boy from the river of light,
His mother was brown, and his father was white,”

Was that... singing?

“Chosen to rescue a Prince in disguise,
All due to the beauty of his magical eyes,”

Slowly, Reyna opened the door a crack and peaked inside...

“The eyes, the eyeees...
Shaped like an almond, pretty as a prize,
The eyes, the eyeees...
Hazel as the ocean in the morning sunrise,
The eyes, the eyeees...
The eyes, the eyes,”

Reyna could barely contain another sigh.

On his bed, there was Esteban, and in his arms, he cradled his lover, Victor.

“The Prince, he did rescue from a dungeon so foul,
Rescued from the clutches of a demonic scowl,

A kiss in the bushes, and songs of a dove,
The two came to realize that they were in love,”

Reyna could only watch.

She could only watch and listen as her son cradled the love of his life and sung of how the two had come to be together.

“The eyes, the eyeees...
Only together did they realize,
The eyes, the eyeees...
Their love would not end and not meet a demise,
The eyes, the eyeees...
The eyes, the eyes,

The eyes, the eyeees...
The eyes, the eyes.”

As his song ended, Esteban planted a kiss on his beloved Victor’s cheek.

“I will hold you in my heart forevermore, my knight in shining armor.”

Reyna slowly closed the door.

As she walked away and stood in the middle of the room, she let out the sigh that she’d been holding in for what felt like an eternity.

Perhaps she should have been appalled.

Not at her son’s relationship with the Lord Evangelio. She’d known about them before even they had.

But, about the fact that Esteban, her son, the Crown Prince of Ravarra, was the one cradling his own personal bodyguard.

But honestly, she wasn’t appalled.

Esteban never needed a bodyguard, he was perfectly capable of handling himself. And besides, they had a perfect relationship, those two. They had come together through some of the hardest times possible for both of them. In a world of darkness, they’d found each other’s lights.

She sighed again.

Where did her little boy get such an angelic singing voice?

God knows he didn’t get it from his father. Just the thought of that made Reyna want to laugh. Perhaps he’d gotten it from her.

Her son had grown so much.

She could hardly believe it...

SCREE—

ROAR

She was snapped out of her thoughts by the bright orange light that flashed outside.

The shadow of the dragon, Incendio, flew by, roaring victoriously.

ROAR

A moment later, High Dame Marisol came in, this time accompanied by High Sir Tomas.

“I believe they were successful, Your Grace.”

Reyna nodded, “Good,” she turned and headed for the door, “I’ll be heading back to my chambers now.”

“Shall we escort you, Your Grace?” High Sir Tomas asked.

“No. Thank you, High Sir, High Dame, you’ve done enough,” she nodded, “You two should take the night off. You deserve it.”

“If you insist, Your Grace.”

“Goodnight, Your Grace,” High Dame Marisol saluted.

“Goodnight,” Reyna nodded as the two Royal Guards left together.

And so, Reyna, Gracious Queen of Ravarra, in a Palace full of couples and friendships and people altogether, returned to her bedchamber alone.

Chapter Text

“How does the idea of not being the sole woman in the Guard anymore feel to you, High Dame Marisol?”

High Dame Marisol was escorting the Queen down to the Royal Guard training room.

All of the other Guards were already down there, apparently already getting to know the newest recruit.

“It is an intriguing concept, Your Grace,” Marisol answered, “It will be nice to have someone like me to serve alongside. I just hope she’ll be able to keep up.”

Marisol had no doubt in her mind that she would.

Anyone who was worthy of becoming a guardian of the Crown obviously had to have proven themselves to be the best.

But, that only meant that they were proven to be the best of their home militaries. And, everybody who wore the golden armor could claim that title.

No, what mattered now was whether or not this new woman was good enough to keep up with the other Guards.

They’d all had to prove that.

Warden Anselmo, who had been one of the greatest heroes of the Obsidian War, had had to prove that.

High Sir Sandro—God rest his soul—who had been personal bodyguard to the Crown Prince all his life, had had to prove that.

High Sir Victor, who had rescued the Prince and fatally wounded the Del Fuego Rebellion singlehandedly, had had to prove that.

And, God knows that Marisol had had to prove that. She had been the girl invading the boy’s club. She hadn’t had to prove that she was the best. She’d had to prove that she was the best of the best. She’d had to prove that she could stand with her male fellows while simultaneously proving that she could stand out from them.

And, she had.

She was now one of the most respected members of the Guard.

And now, it was time for her to pass that wisdom onto the new girl.

“I’m sure she’ll be able to hold her own,” Her Grace assured her, “She’ll have an expert to look up to in you, after all.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

Marisol didn’t know much about this new woman. All she had been told was that she was common-born, like herself, and that she was from the Isla Del Mar.

She wondered what she would look like. If she had to guess, she would say that she was probably a fairly robust-looking woman. A hard face that rarely smiled, and short hair that was probably graying depending on her age.

But again, Marisol didn’t know much. She only had so much to go on.

Well, however this woman looked, Marisol hoped that she could be good enough.

***

Finally, they arrived at the training room, where Warden Anselmo was waiting outside for them.

He saluted, “Your Grace.”

“Good day, Warden Anselmo. How goes the training?”

“Marvelous, Your Grace. Our new sister is even better than we had expected. She’s giving all the boys a run for their money,” he chuckled as he led them in.

Well, that was good to hear.

If she was already proving herself to the Warden, then that was good sign.

Maybe she could live up to expectations after—.

WHAM

Marisol was pulled from her thoughts as High Sir Santiago literally flew across the room and into the wall beside them.

WHAM

BOOM

“ARGH—!”

CRUNCH

BAM

In the middle of the room, a tornado of men was getting beaten and battered on all sides by a sole bronze-skinned figure in golden armor.

“YA!!!”

Marisol caught a glance at the figure’s face...

...And, nearly lost her breath.

It was the woman.

And, she looked nothing like Marisol had been expecting.

She was young. A young adult. Of medium height with a body that would make courtesans jealous, armed only with a cracked wooden training sword. She had flowing, wavy black hair that flew as she spun through the air. And, her face was...

...Wow.

“High Dame!” Warden Anselmo called, “Come and greet your Queen!”

The woman disassembled herself from the broken males and jogged over.

Her wavy hair blew as she did, making the few curls that she had look like springs bouncing on the air.

She stopped in front of them and saluted with a perfect posture, and cooed in a heavenly voice with an angelic accent.

“Your Grace.”

“High Dame. I see your training is going well.”

“Nothing I cannot handle, Your Grace. Though, these men are certainly putting up quite a fight.”

“Good. Then, perhaps it’s time you trained with someone you can find a little more familiar.”

Her Grace indicated to Marisol.

“This is High Dame Marisol. Your one sister in this band of brothers. I trust you will get along handsomely.”

“I do not doubt it.”

She smiled in a grin that was even more breathtaking than the rest of her divine face.

“A pleasure. High Dame Yolanda.”

She held up an elegant finger.

“Excuse me.”

She turned on her heel and ran to rejoin the fray, knocking two more men down as she did.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Her Grace stated, “I have a meeting with Lady Evangelio. I would tell you to go easy on her—.”

CRUNCH

The sound of the wooden sword breaking across High Sir Victor’s back echoed across the room.

“...But, I think she can handle it,” Her Grace smiled, “Good luck. Warden, would you accompany me?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Her Grace and the Warden left the room.

“Ugh...”

Marisol went over and helped High Sir Santiago to stand.

“Well,” Marisol stated as she lifted him up, “This High Dame Yolanda seems to be quite a... formidable woman.”

“That,” Santiago groaned, “is not a woman. That is a war machine.”

Marisol laughed as she helped him limp to the door.

High Sir Tomas came over to them chuckling, “That was quite a tumble, Iago.”

“Not as bad as yours,” he scowled.

“I didn’t make the whole room shake, kid.”

“You’re right. You made the whole Palace shake. Tubby!”

“Ooh, I’m so ashamed,” he chuckled again. He punched Marisol’s arm, “Doesn’t look like the new girl’s gonna need much training.”

“It certainly appears so,” Marisol agreed as she watched her go, “She already seems to have the strength and agility of five Guards in one.”

“And, she looks good doing it too, heheh!”

Marisol watched her. Watched as she kicked and punched. Fought with a skill that would probably make one of the fabled deities of Quirnon run for their lives.

She nodded slowly, “So it would seem...”

“I wouldn’t know...”

Tomas patted his shoulder, “Cheer up, Iago. Come on, let’s get you patched up.”

Tomas slapped Santiago’s buttocks. Santiago gave him a scandalized look, then the two left the room.

A short while later, His Grace the Prince came by, supporting High Sir Victor as he limped.

At the start of High Sir Victor’s service, Marisol would have been appalled at the sight of the Crown Prince of Ravarra helping his own Guard, but overtime, she’d gotten used to seeing stuff like this from them. High Sir Victor slept in the Prince’s rooms, and on nights—and days and every time else—when she was stationed outside, she could hear them making quite a lot of noise inside...

Needless to say, this wasn’t the first time Marisol had seen the Prince’s bodyguard limping...

Marisol saluted, “Your Grace.”

“At ease,” His Grace nodded, “I hear you’ll be taking High Dame Yolanda on as your protégée.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Good. I hope you’ll be able to knock some sense into her,” His Grace sighed, “I don’t like her.”

“She’s really good though, Your Grace,” Marisol defended, “She was able to take on all the other Guards on her own,” she pointed, “She’s even beat up High Sir Victor.”

“And, that’s precisely why I don’t like her,” His Grace stated, “Don’t get me wrong, I agree that she’s good. The fact that I don’t like her doesn’t mean she’s not good. But still,” His Grace nodded, “Put her in her place.”

Marisol smiled and saluted, “By your command, Your Grace.”

His Grace and High Sir Victor left.

Slowly, the rest of the Guards limped or hopped or crawled out of the training room, until it was finally just Marisol and the new girl.

High Dame Yolanda smiled, “Are you just going to stand there all day, or are you going to fight me?”

Marisol snorted as she picked up a training sword, “I was simply waiting for you to finish your appetizers.”

She bit her lip, “Well, I’ll admit you do look like quite a main course...”

Marisol felt herself blush, but she played along, “So, stop standing there drooling, and come and take a bite.”

“Aha, a challenge!” High Dame Yolanda declared, “It’s about time I faced off against another woman.”

Marisol smiled. She swung her sword, “Well then, let’s see if you’ve got the ovaries to keep up with me.”

“I’ll try not to disappoint.”

High Dame Yolanda raised her sword.

“Come on,” she nodded, “Hit me.”

***

“Santana la Luz,” Marisol breathed, “You are good.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” High Dame Yolanda wiped sweat from her forehead, “I look forward to honing my skills with you.”

“You might even learn a thing or two,” she nodded, “Come on, let’s rest.”

They walked over and sat on one of the benches at the side of the room.

“Could you help me with this?” High Dame Yolanda asked.

“With—?”

She started unstrapping her breastplate.

“Oh... Sure.”

Marisol helped her unstrap and lifted it over her head, leaving her in her undershirt. And—

—Oh!

She was taking off her undershirt now.

Okay.

She took it off and placed it down with the breastplate, leaving her in nothing but her breast-binds.

Wow.

Those were some sizable round breasts.

Marisol wished her breasts looked like that.

Those were some big girls...

High Dame Yolanda sighed and Marisol snapped out of whatever trance she’d been in.

“I think I’m going to like being a Royal Guard,” she stated, “It’s a steady job, I get a decent living quarters, three meals a day, and I get to beat up men whenever I want.”

Marisol chuckled, “That’s precisely why I joined. To beat up men. And, to protect the Crown, of course.”

“Of course.”

The two chuckled.

Then, High Dame Yolanda looked into Marisol’s eyes.

Marisol felt as though she were in another trance.

“High Dame Marisol.”

“High Dame Yolanda.”

“Marisol, Marisol, Marisol.”

“Yes, that’s my name,” she nodded, “How can I help you?”

“Just trying to figure you out,” she continued to stare, “Hmm... You’ve got my skin tone, but not all of my features. Let me guess... Bahía Calma?”

Marisol smiled and nodded, “Yes, that is correct. I served as a land knight for House Macarena before I became a Guard.”

“I never would have guessed otherwise,” High Dame Yolanda stated, “Your heartlands accent is perfect.”

Marisol shrugged, “When ya be servin’ the Crown, ya‘ve gotta be learnin’ how to be speakin’ prope’ly, ya bilge rat,” she stated, letting her birth accent flow.

“Adorable,” High Dame Yolanda giggled, “You’re lowborn too, I’m guessing?”

“Yeah,” Marisol confirmed, “My parents were both dockworkers.”

“My parents were servants in the citadel,” she stated, “Probably the only reason I got noticed in the first place.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Marisol disagreed, “You’ve got skill and prowess. No matter where you may be, no matter who you may be, when you have those, somebody’s gonna notice.”

High Dame Yolanda smiled at her with an... enchanting smile.

“In adolescence, I had a lover who used to tell me the same thing,” she stated, “She told me that with the skill I possessed, I was going to go places I’d never even dreamed of going,” she shrugged, “Looks like she was right.”

Marisol smiled back, “Looks like she was.”

They continued to smile at each other.

That was all they were doing...

Just sitting there...

Smiling...

Marisol shook herself out of it, “Anyway, I think that’s enough mush for now,” she stood up, “It should be about supper time now. Wanna get some grub?”

“Sure,” High Dame Yolanda stood up and...

...Stretched.

Her muscles rippled as she stretched out her arms...

Her breasts bounced just a bit...

“Shall we go?”

Marisol blinked and nodded, “Yes. Let’s.”

***

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Marisol had just changed out of her armor and underclothes, leaving her in nothing but her undergarments, when she heard the sound of knocking at her quarters door.

That was odd...

It was the middle of the night, who would be knocking at a time like this? She wasn’t on duty tonight...

Should she get dressed?

Nah. It was probably just a servant. No need to dress up over nothing.

She walked over to the door and opened it, revealing—

Oh!

“High Dame Yolanda,” she brushed her hair, “Forgive me, I wasn’t expecting company, I’m not dressed.”

“It’s fine,” she stated.

She had a mischievous look in her eye.

“Umm,” Marisol asked, “How can I help you?”

High Dame Yolanda sauntered closer, getting up in Marisol’s space.

She was so... muscular...

“I was wondering if I could get a quick... training session.”

Marisol looked at her confusedly, “Right now?”

“Right now...”

Marisol felt her eyes as she looked her up and down.

“Umm... What did you have in mind?”

Yolanda brought a hand up and stroked Marisol’s hair.

“Wrestling...”

She suddenly grabbed Marisol’s breast, making her gasp.

“Marisol, Marisol, Marisol...”

She started pushing her back toward her bed...

“I’m going to make you scream...”

She kicked the door closed.

Yes.

Yes!

...

“...YES!!!”

Marisol shot up.

She was smiling widely and breathing heavily...

...Until it hit her.

Her smile dropped.

She looked around.

She was in her quarters.

In her bed.

Alone.

Was that...?

Had that been...?

...A dream?

...Woah.

That was...

Wow, that...

Wow...

That was one kind of sexual awakening...

Wow...

...

...

...

...Wow.

Chapter Text

Esteban woke up to the unusual sensation that he was alone in his bed.

He sat up and looked around. Victor wasn’t in the room. He was probably already in the main room, waiting for him.

Well, no reason to keep him waiting.

Esteban stretched, but as he did, he looked down and noticed the pillows. The one that Victor had slept on. It still had the outline of his head on it.

He picked it up on instinct and pressed his face into it, breathing in deeply through his nose.

It smelled just like him.

It made him smile.

But, there was no reason for him to be sniffing at pillows. The real person was sitting just outside. He could just go and sniff him. Victor wouldn’t mind.

He got up and started to get dressed. As he finished, he started to head for the door, until he looked down at the table.

Oh.

Right.

He sighed as he picked up the treaty.

If he was going to get it signed, he was gonna have to do it today. The ambassador would be at the Bazaar. It would have been so much easier if he could just go himself, but he couldn’t even set foot outside his chambers without being seen, and he needed to not be seen. So, he needed to send somebody in his place.

And, he needed to do so before his mother did the same.

He’d managed to convince Chiquita Ayala to reveal who had been chosen to represent his mother. And, thank God that Chiquita was professional enough not to try to flirt with him in the process. If he’d approached any other woman with a favor like that to ask, he might not have been so lucky.

Why did every unmarried girl he talked to always try to flirt with him? Did they not realize that he’d never be interested? Had they not heard the very true rumors about his sexual preference? Had they not heard the very true rumors about his relationship with the new Lord of the Río De La Luz?

Ugh.

Anyway, Warbler Ten had been chosen to be his mother’s envoy. Heh. He wondered how Gilberto might have reacted to hearing that.

But, Esteban needed his treaty signed.

He needed this.

His mother truly was gracious, but this wasn’t something that could be easily fixed by splitting it. No, either she was getting it, or Esteban was.

And again, she was gracious, but Esteban knew that there was no way she was giving it to him.

But, this was something he needed. For him. For his people. So, he had to fight for it. He had to get this treaty signed before his mother had a chance to get hers.

He had to do this.

Even though he knew that by doing this, he would be starting a war with his own mother.

Not an actual war, but still. Anything with the word, ‘war,’ in it was unsettling.

But, he had to do this, because in the end, it would all be worth it.

But first, he needed an envoy of his own.

He could worry about it after breakfast. Maybe he could get Victor to help. But first, he needed some food in his stomach.

He went out into the main room, and spotted Victor sitting at the daybed. He was hunched over what appeared to be a letter.

Esteban placed the treaty down and went over to him, “You’re up early.”

Victor looked up and smiled. His smile could light up any room even in the slight dark of the early morning.

“I felt like getting an early start.”

“Can’t see why you would possibly want to spend even a minute away from me.”

“You sleep in too late.”

“The sun is barely risen.”

“You should get into the habit of waking up before dawn,” Victor pointed, “It’s a good habit for a future King to get into.”

“Not in a thousand years,” Esteban came over and sniffed into Victor’s hair. It was long enough now that it had lots of curls in it. It was extremely cute.

Victor looked up at him funnily, “What are you doing?”

“Just smelling you. You smell like flesh. And, spruce. And, kind of like jalapeños. And,” he sniffed again, “Uh-huh. Dick.”

Victor snorted, “That’s your fault!”

“I never said it wasn’t,” he looked at the fur-balls sitting on the daybed next to him, “May I sit here?”

The cats all glared up at him. He glared back. After a short glaring contest, the three cats finally relented and jumped off.

Esteban sat down and snuggled in. The cats had left it nice and warm for Esteban’s butt.

He nodded at the paper, “What are you reading?”

“A letter that Anya sent last night,” Victor showed him.

Esteban chuckled, “Oh, how cute. It’s signed Wizardess Anya Evangelio.”

“Yeah, that’s her name now. Along with the rest of my family. Even the ones I’ve never met. Apparently, my mother’s having to throw out imposters at the manor gate.”

“That tends to happen when you have an extensive family.”

“I never realized just how extensive mine was...”

“No one ever does. What did she say?”

“Just an update, nothing special. She says she’s currently aiding the ill. In the slums of,” Victor squinted, “Leon. Where is that?”

“Ah, Leon,” Esteban nodded, “It’s a city in the north. I hear they have tons of ill there. Your cousin is doing good work.”

“I think I’ve heard of that before,” Victor looked thoughtful, “Didn’t Lady Porra say something about Leon?”

“That would make sense. House Porra is the liege family over Leon.”

“But, I think she said something about a... House Leon.”

“De Leon,” Esteban corrected, “House De Leon. They were the former lieges of the city.”

“What happened to them?”

“Wiped out during the Obsidian War.”

“Oh... That’s sad.”

“It is,” Esteban agreed, “They were supposed to be very kind. But now, they’re extinct, and their lands were given to the asshole Porra’s.”

“That war ruined everything.”

“Certainly a lot of things,” Esteban smiled, “But hey, at least you got a heroic bloodline out of it.”

“I suppose so,” Victor chuckled, “You know, I don’t actually know much about Ravarra’s other cities. I know about the port cities on the Isla Del Mar, but not much about the mainland’s cities. I’d never even heard of Leon before.”

Esteban shrugged, “There aren’t that many cities in the Kingdom. And even so, nothing noteworthy ever really happens in them. The Ciudad Del Fundador is the only one that really carries any importance.”

Victor looked at him.

“Could you teach me about them? The cities? I feel like this is something I should probably know as a major Lord.”

Oh.

Well, it wasn’t like they were doing anything at the moment anyway.

“Sure,” Esteban agreed, “What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

Esteban snorted, “Okay. Well, first things first, did you know that there are more cities on the Isla Del Mar than there are on the entire mainland?”

“Really?”

“Yes. The Isla has six port cities, one for each of the minor nobility, and then the citadel for the Del Mar’s, making that seven cities. The mainland only has six in total. And of those six, only two are directly under the lordship of a major House.”

“Tell me about them.”

“Well, obviously you know about the Ciudad Del Fundador, where we sit right now. Ravarra’s capital, and large enough to be considered it’s own region. It’s under the control of House Reyes, one of my mother’s many, many titles being Lady of the Ciudad Del Fundador. Now, most people assume that it’s named after King Marcel the Founder.”

“But, it’s not,” Victor finished, “It’s named after Lord Santos Reyes. The founder of the Orders of Magic.”

“That is correct,” Esteban nodded, “According to our religion, the Reinos Doctrine, the city’s first foundations were built during the Demon Prince’s reign over Corazones, and then they were expanded during the reign of the three founders of magic, and finally around the three Basilicas during Santos’s leadership under old Delmara.”

“Your family did everything.”

“Yes, we did,” Esteban nodded, “Now, the next most influential city is the mainland’s one port city. Puerto Consorte, in the Bahía Calma. It’s under the direct authority of House Puerta, the Kingdom’s masters of ships, because it is where their castle is located. Now, do you know who it is named after?”

Victor looked thoughtful, “Someone’s consort. I think the Voyager’s?”

“Correct. It is named after Queen Matilda Del Mar, consort to King Hernan the Voyager. The only reason it became a real port city is because of her concern for the crowded and disorganized region.”

Esteban held up four fingers.

“Now for the four other cities that you’ve never heard of. There is one in each direction. Leon is in the north, in the Tierra Del Fuego, formerly presided over by the now-extinct House De Leon, and now by House Porra. Heredia is to the west, in the Llanura De Rosas, presided over by House De Heredia. Navarrete is to the south, in the Sierra Dentada, presided over by House De Navarrete. And lastly, Villalobos is to the east, in the Selva De Lobos, presided over by House De Villalobos.”

“I’m starting to see a pattern in the naming system,” Victor chuckled.

“That’s how it came to be,” Esteban nodded.

“So, everyone in charge of a city has it named after them?”

“No, not really,” Esteban explained, “It’s very different depending on which city it is. For the four I just mentioned, those were the names of the cities that the people called them by, so the nobles in charge named themselves after them. For the Isla’s port cities, it was the other way around. They were named after the nobles that owned them, like Puerto Nazario after House Nazario or Puerto Loyola after House Loyola and so on. That’s why they don’t have the, ‘De,’ in their names. The citadel is similar, except that it doesn’t have an actual name. Just Castle Del Mar or the Del Mar citadel, after House Del Mar. Puerto Consorte and the Ciudad Del Fundador were named after specific people, no families involved, which is why we don’t have a House Consorte or a House Del Fundador.”

“I see,” Victor nodded slowly, “This naming system is very confusing to me.”

Esteban smiled and shrugged, “Well, we still have time. Do you want me to explain that to you too.”

“Yes please, I would like that very much.”

“Alright then!” Esteban got up, “I’ll be right back.”

He walked over and up the stairs to his indoor balcony, then searched through the shelves.

Ahh, found it.

He took the book out and climbed back downstairs, coming back over to Victor.

He dropped it on the table with a thud, making Victor jump.

God, he was too cute.

Victor looked at it and read the title aloud.

“‘A History of the Aristocratic Bloodlines of the Kingdom of Ravarra.’”

“You’ll find everything you need it there,” he sat back down and started flipping through the pages, “Now, let’s start with the oldest and most basic.”

He stopped and pointed.

“The old ruling Houses of Cuatro Reinos. House Del Mar, House De La Sierra, House Del Fuego, and House De La Selva. Like I said, their names are the most basic. They were named after the places that they ruled. House Del Mar ruled the sea, House De La Sierra ruled the mountains, and so on. That’s why they were the ones with the most basic names.”

“So, the Del Mar’s and the Del Fuego’s are the Kingdom’s oldest families?”

“That’s right. With House De La Sierra and House De La Selva extinct since the Unificación, House Del Mar and House Del Fuego are the oldest surviving bloodlines in Ravarra.”

“That’s scary to think about.”

“I suppose so,” Esteban chuckled. He turned the pages, “Now, there are two recorded exceptions to the basic naming rule. These ones were founded by heroic generals who were ennobled by the Founder after the Unificación. One was House De La Rosa, the original lieges of the Llanura De Rosas. Care to guess what the other one was?”

Victor sighed.

“House De La Luz.”

“Correct. The original lieges of the Tierra De La Luz. King Marcel was very grateful to the generals for their service. They each supposedly saved his life at some point. In thanks, he gave them those names that made them sound old and entitled.”

“But, neither of those Houses are alive today.”

“Right. They’re both extinct. The last liege of House De La Rosa died during the reign of Queen Paulina the Vengeful without an heir. There was but one member of the bloodline left, and he was a bastard. Queen Paulina gave him the Llanura De Rosas and offered to legitimize him as a De La Rosa to restart the bloodline. But, he declined, saying that he wanted to start his own bloodline, and took the name Rosales.”

“Ah. And, thus birthed House Rosales, the Kingdom’s masters of coin.”

“That’s right,” Esteban nodded, “Now...”

He lowered his voice.

“As you know, House De La Luz is extinct, because of the Usurpation and all that,” he nodded to the new painting of Samuel and Sol on the wall, “With the Tierra De La Luz splitting into the Bosque and Río, yada, yada. And, as you also know, there is one De La Luz bastard still alive today, but I don’t think we’re going to be giving her a restart to her bloodline anytime soon.”

Victor shuddered, “I hope not.”

“Yes. And, those are the only recorded families that utilize that naming system.”

Victor smiled, “What about House Del Bosque?”

Esteban snorted, “There was never such a thing as a House Del Bosque. King Guillermo the Thespian made that name up for his play, ‘A Street-Carriage Named Desire.’ The character, Blanca Del Bosque, was said to have lost her House’s region, the Bel Sueño—which also never existed—to the Rosales’s over a debt, which is why she had to go and live with her sister, Estela, and her husband, Stefan Herrera.”

“Herrera. Like Gilberto.”

“Please don’t compare our adorable little manservant to that raper...”

Victor chuckled. Then, he looked thoughtful again, “What about Delgado? Is that... some sort of variation of... something about cats?”

“No,” Esteban shook his head, “House Delgado’s name isn’t from that naming system. Delgado is an old word that’s a synonym for, ‘thin.’”

“Oh.”

“And, we’ll get to that naming system in a second. Next, as we already talked about, those four mainland cities. Their noble families are named after the cities. House De Leon was named after the city of Leon, House De Navarrete is named after Navarrete, and so on.”

Esteban pointed into the book.

“And then, there’s the rest of the names. There are different reasons why families would have gotten certain names, but for the most part, it’s based off of something significant or a word that describes them. Like, the first Delgado was most likely thin. House Rosales lords over a place with lots of roses,” Esteban pointed, “Your House Evangelio is named after your great-grandmother, Evangelina.”

Victor nodded, “And, what about Reyes?”

“I have no idea how we got the name Reyes,” Esteban admitted, “It was created long before we were ever Kings,” he shrugged, “For all I know, it was probably prophetic. Whoever our founder was probably knew that we were destined to be Kings.”

“And, Queens.”

Esteban smiled, “Yes, and Queens.”

Victor laughed and scratched his head, “Well, these are certainly some complicated subjects.”

“Aw, I’m sorry if my lecture broke your lowborn brain.”

“Shut up!”

Esteban giggled, “Yes, I agree, they are a bit complicated. At least we have family names to identify who we are. It must get even more complicated for the Princely Bloodlines of Anaxor and Rueno.”

“Wait,” Victor made a face, “The what whats of Anaxor and what!?”

Esteban stared at him.

“Are you serious? How long have you been in this castle?”

“I’ve never heard of this whatever you just said!”

Esteban laughed.

Santiago el Oscuro give him strength.

He had a lot more to teach his beloved...

...Oh.

Wait a minute.

He could work this to his advantage.

Yes.

A plan was formulating in his head.

Yes.

This would be perfect.

Esteban patted his shoulder, “It’s okay, my love. I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“It really is,” Victor sighed, “I’ve only been a major nobleman for a few months, and juggling that with being a Royal Guard and leading efforts against the rebellion, it’s really, really hard.”

Esteban smirked, “I could distract you with something else that’s really, really hard...”

“Shut up,” Victor snorted, “Shut the fuck up.”

Esteban giggled, “Don’t worry, you’ll figure everything out in no time. I believe in you.”

Esteban sat up and started to turn the pages again.

“Now, let me tell you about the five territories of Ravarra...”

He heard the door to his chambers open.

Esteban fought back a smile, then opened his mouth to continue...

Chapter Text

ROAR, ‘RISE AND SHINE, UP AND AT ‘EM, DICKS!!!’

Gilberto sat up in bed as Incendio flew by the window.

He yawned and stretched, relieving the tenseness in his muscles that came from a night’s rest.

Benedicto groaned beside him and pulled the pillow over his face.

Gilberto gave him a kiss, then got up to prepare for the day.

He pulled on his basic servant’s attire, and then proceeded to make some little tweaks to his outfit, so that he couldn’t stand out overtly, but could still be noticeably cute.

Being attractive got you places in this world. And, Gilberto had places to go. So everyday in the mornings, Gilberto would do his best to look attractive. And, how? By picking up traits that he’d noticed growing up that his mother and sisters utilized when they wanted to look attractive. By following his family’s example.

Whenever his mother or sisters wanted to look attractive, they wore pretty dresses that were open at the top to show off a bit of their breasts. Gilberto couldn’t wear a dress, but he could use that sort of style to his advantage.

So, as he was buttoning up his shirt, he made sure to leave the top few buttons open, and stretched it out to expose a bit of his hairless, flat male chest.

Whenever his mother or sisters wanted to look attractive, they brushed their curly hair so that it was styled in the prettiest way. Gilberto could brush his hair, but he preferred to comb it.

So, he took his comb and fixed his hair in the small vanity mirror so that it was styled in the cutest way.

And lastly, whenever his mother or sisters wanted to look attractive, they wore fancy cosmetics to make their faces look as gorgeous as angels. Gilberto could never run around looking angel-pretty, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use at least some of those tactics.

So, he applied just a tiny bit of eyeliner around his eyes, and just a tiny bit of blush to his cheeks.

And with that, he was finally ready.

He got up, shook Benedicto until he finally stopped groaning and got up, gave him another kiss, and then left the room.

“...good day, Condor...”

A handmaiden walked past him.

“...good day...”

He left to begin his duties.

***

His first stop was the stables.

This wasn’t necessarily his job, but he liked to visit his animal friends every once in a while, and this gave him an excuse to do so.

As soon as he entered, he went straight for the hay bales and started to roll one through the structure, until he finally got to the stable he was looking for.

Whinny, ‘Yo, chow time!’

He opened the stable for Lina and Marco, and rolled their breakfast in for them.

Whinny, ‘Thanks, Hairball!’

Whinny, ‘Yeah, thanks man!’

“You’re welcome,” Gilberto nodded as he brushed himself off.

Whinny, ‘Sooo! How’re things goin with Baldy, Hairball?’

Gilberto smiled at Lina, “They’re fine. I’d say we come closer together everyday. I’ve even gotten him to start wearing his undergarments again. In exchange for some...” he blushed, “...personal favors.”

Whinny, ‘Ooh, Hairball gettin it!’

Gilberto blushed and giggled, “Thanks.”

Whinny, ‘Goddamn. Now that is an ass. Ey, yo! Yo, mare!’

Whinny, ‘That’s a dude, Marco!’

Whinny, ‘Girl whatever, I don’t give a fuck, he got a fat ass! Ey, yo! Stallion!’

Gilberto left them to their horsey doings.

Next, he went out to a shed, where a wagon with a freshly-slaughtered goat inside was waiting.

He wheeled it out, and took it to a clearing in the gardens.

ROAR, ‘BREAKFAST!!!’

Incendio the dragon blotted out the sun temporarily as he made a beeline down to the clearing.

He landed so heavily that he caused Gilberto to fall on his posterior.

ROAR, ‘MMM, YUMMY!!! THANKS, CUTE DICK!!!’

Gilberto got up and brushed himself off, “You’re welcome.”

As Incendio started to dig into the carcass, Gilberto turned and headed back into the Founder’s Palace.

***

His next stop was a closet.

The reason for this was because he had a morning boner that he’d been neglecting.

He had waited until now to take care of it, so that when he was done, he could just go to the privy and clean off the smells of hay, death, and semen all at once instead of having to deal with it multiple times.

As soon as he found an empty closet, he slipped inside and closed the door behind him.

He leaned back against the wall as he unlaced his pants and pulled himself out. As he started to stroke and fondle himself, he started to think about a number of things. He thought about knights exercising. He thought about naked men in the baths. He thought about the two servant boys he’d accidentally walked in on hooking up the other day.

He thought about Prince Esteban. About how polite and courtly he could be in public, and yet so shameless, unreserved, and just filthy he could be in private. About his giant, muscular body. About those muscular abs that were always exposed by a stylish, frilly V-line shirt with a V that Gilberto could swear was always purposefully too low.

He thought about Victor. Slightly smaller than the Prince, but still also giant and muscular. How unspeakably brave and heroic he was. How he gleamed with or without his golden armor. How he could be such a natural, dominant leader on the battlefield, and yet still act like a small, submissive follower around the Prince.

He thought about the noises they always made in the Prince’s bedchamber. The Prince’s heavy, concentrated breathing. Victor’s pained, yet pleasureful moans. The unmistakable sound of flesh slapping against flesh. The literal screams as climax was hit.

And lastly, he thought about Benedicto.

About how his body had changed. About his abs that were starting to get bigger with exercise. About his arms that had always had such a firm grip. About his uncircumcised penis that he somehow knew how to use so perfectly.

He thought about what they did in their shared living quarters. About how they could just cuddle together in their spare time. About how Benedicto would comfort him on nights when he was scared.

About how gentle and caring, yet strong and forceful Benedicto could be when they were doing, ‘it.’ About how he was always so excited to do it that he almost ripped their clothes. How he would push Gilberto back into the bed, jump on top of him and grind himself against him. How he would kiss and bite him like a rabid, starving animal. How he would pin his arms down as he prepared to put his uncircumcised boner in a place that Gilberto had been terrified at the thought of putting boners in before. But now, he could barely imagine his life without it. He could barely imagine his life without him.

And in no time, he found himself ejaculating and shooting straight onto the opposite wall of the small closet.

After he put himself away and cleaned up his mess with a spare rag, he left the closet and went straight for the privy.

“...big day today...”

“...try to get it signed...”

“...choose a representative...”

Gilberto walked past the two whispering knights. They both glanced at him for a second.

“...Santana, Condor...”

“...stink...”

“...wash up...”

“...going, for Founder’s sake...”

Gilberto smiled briefly as the knights snickered behind him.

When he entered the privy, he found High Sir Santiago Fuentes using a waste-hole.

“Good morning, master Herrera.”

“Good morning, High Sir,” Gilberto greeted as he went to use the hole next to him.

High Sir Santiago was a man in his very early twenties, and apparently the previous titleholder of, ‘youngest Royal Guard,’ before Victor had joined. He was a lot more sociable with the servants than most of the other Guards, and Gilberto had found him a lot of fun to talk to sometimes.

And, considering how his eyes would sometimes pass over the other male Guards—specifically High Sir Tomas Rosales—for a moment too long, Gilberto figured they might have more in common than he let on.

When he was done relieving himself, Gilberto cleaned himself up, sprinkling some oleander fragrance on himself, and then left to continue working.

His next stop was the kitchens.

Gilberto entered to find all of the cooks slaving away like they always were, then went to greet Sonia, the head cook.

“Ahh, good morning, master skinny,” the old woman nodded.

“Good morning, madam Sonia. What’s for breakfast today?”

“Torrijas,” she gave him a sniff, “And, hot chocolate. The cacao beans fresh from the plantations of Belatierra.”

“Delicious.”

“But, of course,” Sonia chuckled.

Madam Sonia was one of the Palace’s oldest servants. She always loved whenever someone would ask how she got there, and she would tell the story of how she grew up in the slums of Puerto Bello on the Isla Del Mar, the daughter of a lowborn handmaiden and a male courtesan, and of how she got to the mainland, and all the way to the Ciudad Del Fundador through her cooking alone, where she then found herself cooking a meal for Queen Veta the Cunning herself, and she had been working in the Founder’s Palace ever since.

“...talk to the ambassador today...”

“...Prince will make his move...”

“...Queen won’t be pleased...”

Gilberto glanced briefly at the two kitchen servants whispering beside them.

“So, tell me what is going on with you and the little wizard,” Sonia stated as she cooked, “Things are well, I presume?”

“They are,” Gilberto nodded, “He’s becoming stronger everyday. Someday, he might even be strong enough to take on the Grand Wizard.”

Sonia smirked up at him.

“And, strong enough to satisfy you during any strenuous activity, I hope.”

Gilberto blushed, “Perhaps.”

He decided not to tell her about the undergarments thing, because though she wouldn’t have minded, it would have been inappropriate in this sort of environment.

Sonia chuckled, “I remember the days when I could be as lively as you. Especially with lovers. Ay,” she sighed, “I had a string of men and women chasing after me in my day. Some in this very kitchen, on this very—.”

“Forgive me, madam Sonia, but this seems like more of a dinner time conversation to me.”

Or, preferably a no-time conversation...

The old woman chuckled again, “Perhaps it is.”

She fixed up a tray with four plates covered with domes, four cups of chocolate, and three small bowls of fish.

She slid it over to him, “Here you go. Enjoy.”

“Thank you,” he picked up the tray, “I’ll be back for supper.”

“I’ll be here!”

“...good day, Condor...”

Gilberto said goodbye, nodded to the servants, then left with the meal in hand.

***

Gilberto carried the tray through the castle on his way to Prince Esteban’s chambers.

“...Queen’s envoy...”

“...a warbler...”

“...here comes the Prince’s condor...”

Gilberto walked by the two servants dusting the halls.

“...good morning, Condor...”

“...cute cosmetics...”

“...thanks...”

“...Prince will choose you...?”

“...no idea what you’re talking about...”

“...you will know...”

“...soon enough...”

Gilberto intended to.

When he got to the chambers, he carefully held the tray in one hand, and opened the door.

“...There are five colonial territories in total,” the Prince was saying, “The Principalities of Anaxor and Rueno, and the Lordships of Unalia, Percoza, and Belatierra. Their titles are distinguishable, because Anaxor and Rueno are the only ones with native populations. The three Lordships were previously uninhabited when the Voyager claimed them for Ravarra.”

Gilberto slipped inside and closed the door behind him.

“I see,” Victor nodded, “Interesting. And, do any of those territories belong to you?”

Gilberto came over to the middle of the room where the two of them were seated and placed the tray down on the table.

Victor and Prince Esteban were reading out of a giant book. Something about bloodlines.

“Yes,” the Prince explained, “As the heir to the throne, Rueno and Belatierra belong to me. My official title is, ‘Esteban of House Reyes, Lord of Belatierra, Crown Prince of Rueno, and heir apparent to the Royal Throne of Ravarra.”

“My goodness, that’s a lot...”

“Hah!” Prince Esteban snorted, “If you think that’s a lot, listen to my mother’s,” he started counting down on his fingers, “She’s, ‘Reyna the Gracious, Lady of the Crown of House Reyes of the Ciudad Del Fundador, of Unalia, and of Percoza, Crown Princess of Anaxor, Queen of Delmara, of Navera, of Rafuego, and of Selvaro, protector of the heartlands, and Reigning Monarch of Ravarra.’”

“Santamaría...”

“Exactly.”

Gilberto took the three fish bowls and placed them on the ground, where the three cats, Leo, Antonio, and Mariana, came running.

Mewl mewl mewl, ‘Thanks, buddy!’

Gilberto nodded. Then, he came back up to the table and took two cups of hot chocolate and placed them in front of Victor and the Prince, followed then by two plates, taking the domes off to reveal the delicious torrijas.

“Thanks, Gilberto,” Victor smiled.

“You’re welcome,” Gilberto smiled back, “The cacao beans in the chocolate are fresh from your Lordship, Your Grace.”

“Thank you, Gilberto,” the Prince nodded, “Now, as I was saying...”

Gilberto picked up the tray as the two continued their discussion.

The last two breakfasts were for him and Benedicto, who would be arriving shortly. Benedicto liked to eat on the Prince’s indoor balcony, and the Prince didn’t mind, so that’s where Gilberto went. He climbed up the little stairs to the short second story and placed the tray on a table.

As soon as he set himself up, Benedicto entered the chambers, looking as frazzled as a bald boy could look. He came over to the stairs and all but stomped up to the second story.

“Good morning, sugarcane,” Gilberto smiled, “How has your morning been?”

“Ugh,” he groaned as he sat down.

“Wonderful. Here, have some chocolate.”

***

After they’d finished their breakfast, Gilberto started to clean up. He placed all of his and Benedicto’s dishes onto the tray, then climbed down and went over to pick up the rest.

“...So, remind me what an Exalted Princess is again?” Victor asked.

“Exalted Prince or Princess is the official title used by the Viceroy or Vicereine of a Principality. Princess Canela’s official title is, ‘Exalted Princess Canela, Vicereine of the Principality of Anaxor.”

“And, her heir is...?”

“Casimiro doesn’t really own anything for himself. He’s just, ‘Prince Casimiro of Anaxor, viceregal heir apparent to the Principality of Anaxor.”

Gilberto picked up the cat’s bowls first.

“I see. And, both of the Principalities’s viceregal families are territorial natives?”

“Correct. And, that’s why they don’t have surnames, because their cultures don’t use them. There are some exceptions of bloodlines that were ennobled in Ravarra, some notable examples being House Cardoso in Rueno and House Corsario in Anaxor, but everyone else, lowborn and highborn alike, is nameless. They’re just, ‘of Anaxor,’ or, ‘of Rueno.’ And, that’s also why the Principalities also have Reinos emissaries as well as viceroyalties. Anaxor’s Vicereine, Princess Canela, acts as something of an overseer for the territory, while their emissary, Riga Del Mar, acts as sort of a speaker for the Crown of Ravarra.”

“Okay. And, the Lordships don’t have that?”

“No. Like I said, the Lordships don’t have native populations, so their viceroyalties are migrated Reinos nobility, acting as both speakers and overseers for their respective territories. House Nieves is the viceregal family in charge of Unalia. Their matriarch’s official title is, ‘Lady Elsa of House Nieves, Vicereine of the Lordship of Unalia.’ And her heir, Elmo, doesn’t have an official title, just like a normal Reinos noble heir. He’s just, ‘Elmo of House Nieves.’”

Finally, Gilberto came up and started to pick up the dishes on the table.

“Okay,” Victor rubbed his forehead, “This is fun and all, but it’s really confusing.”

“You’re the one that keeps asking questions.”

“And, I still have more! Like, what’s the difference between an emissary and an ambassador?”

“Ambassadors are diplomats that we send to other realms to represent our needs. Rueno and Anaxor are part of this realm, so we don’t need actual ambassadors to represent us in those places. Therefore, we have viceroyalties and emissaries.”

“My God...”

“But actually, I’m glad you brought this up,” the Prince sat up, closing the book and placing it on the table, “because I may need your help with something. Diplomacy related.”

Ooh...

Gilberto didn’t say anything, but he started to pick the dishes up much more slowly.

“Oh? And, what is that?”

“The Crown has a trade treaty that we need signed with the ambassador from Quirnon. Recently, Percoza and Belatierra have started to run low on some essential resources. Resources that the Quirnosi have. This treaty would make us a deal where we would trade their resources for a substantial obsidian supply.”

Gilberto started rearranging the cups...

“Well, that doesn’t sound so hard,” Victor shrugged, “Ravarra is overflowing with obsidian, we can certainly afford it. Why isn’t this something that your mother can handle?”

“See that’s the thing,” the Prince nodded, “I need it so that the ambassador signs my treaty for trade. Not my mother’s.”

“What? What does that mean?”

“It means that we’re at war with the Queen.”

Gilberto paused in the act of stacking a plate.

“...WHAT!!!??” Victor squeaked.

“A trade war,” the Prince explained, “Not an actual war. No fighting or anything. Hopefully. See, Quirnon is only willing to trade away so much of their resources. Just enough to sustain one of the territories. That means that only one territory is going to get them. Either Percoza or Belatierra. Not both. And, Percoza is my mother’s land, so you know which one she’s going to support...”

“Wait,” Victor squinted, “What are you saying?”

Prince Esteban smiled deviously at his personal bodyguard.

“I’m saying I need you to get to the Quirnosi ambassador before my mother’s envoy does and convince him to sign my treaty to send the resources to Belatierra.”

Gilberto almost dropped the plate.

“...I-I don’t know, Esteban,” Victor shook his head, “I’m still too new to being a nobleman, I don’t know a thing about proper diplomacy, and even so, a Royal Guard working openly against his Queen?”

“Well, I can’t do it myself,” the Prince explained, “If they saw me coming, my mother’s people would jump to their move, and we’d lose everything. I need this, Victor. For my people.”

“I’m sorry, Esteban,” Victor apologized, “I just can’t.”

“Hmm... I see.”

“Can’t you send someone else?”

“Now, who could I possibly—?”

“Me! I’ll do it!”

Gilberto shot up to his feet, to the response of both of them turning to stare at him.

“I can do it, Your Grace,” Gilberto stated, “I can. I can get this treaty signed for you in no time!”

They both continued to stare.

Then, Victor snickered.

“I don’t think so, Gilberto.”

“I can!” Gilberto defended himself, “Believe me. I’m fully capable convincing someone to write their name on a piece of paper.”

“This is about much more than that, Gilberto,” the Prince stated, “This paper concerns the future of the realm. It won’t be easy to get a signature. And, though it may not be an actual war, there could be danger involved.”

“I’m perfectly capable of handling danger, Your Grace.”

Victor snorted, “Remind me how old you are again?”

“My age does not matter,” Gilberto placed his hands behind his back, “I am a manservant, a whisperer, and extremely cute. When I am given a task, I can always find a way to see it through.”

“Oh, can you?”

“Yes. I can. Again, I am a skilled whisperer. I am trained in etiquette, diplomacy, manslaughter, and espionage.”

“Manslaughter—?”

“I have learned much in the past few months alone. I am much better at it now than I was when you both first met me,” Gilberto nodded, “Trust me, Your Grace. I can get your treaty signed.”

The Prince didn’t say anything. He just looked at him. Thoughtfully.

“Well,” Victor shrugged, “That’s all impressive, Gilberto, but the fact still remains that you’re too young and inexperienced for something as important as this. I’m sure we’ll be able to find someone more qualified and—WOAH!!!”

FLINK

Victor stared down at the silvery arrow that now stuck out of the cushion between his legs.

Gilberto smiled from behind his magic crossbow, “And as you can see, I am also an expert smuggler and marksman.”

He held his crossbow up in one hand, and placed his other hand on his hip, because that’s what his sister, Dina, always did when she wanted to look like a badass.

“May as well just give him the job. He’s very convincing when he wants something.”

Gilberto smiled up at Benedicto, then back at the pair.

The magic arrow disintegrated, leaving only a hole in the cushion for feathers to float out of.

The Prince looked up with raised eyebrows and shrugged.

“Well, I’m convinced.”

The Prince stood up. He came over and placed a hand on Gilberto’s shoulder.

“You’re sure you’re prepared for this?” He asked, “It’s not going to be easy.”

“I am, Your Grace,” Gilberto nodded, “I promise you. By the end of the day, I’ll be back here with a signed treaty.”

The Prince smiled, “Good.”

He let go of his shoulder.

“You’re going to have to stitch up that pillow at some point, though.”

Gilberto giggled, “Yes, Your Grace.”

“Come.”

The Prince went over to a small desk.

He picked up a paper and handed it to Gilberto, “I expect you to handle this matter with extreme caution. One wrong move, and we could risk an actual war. And, we certainly cannot afford another one of those right now.”

Gilberto looked at the paper. It was signed, ‘Prince Esteban of House Reyes, Lord of Belatierra.’

Gilberto looked up and nodded, “I understand what’s at stake, Your Grace. I’ll be careful.”

“Good,” the Prince pointed, “The Quirnosi ambassador will be at the Mender’s Bazaar today with the ambassador from Pentoz. His name is Masim Nal-Rumancel.”

“Masim Nal-Rumancel,” Gilberto repeated, “Got it.”

“Excellent. And, take Benedicto with you. I trust you, but it doesn’t hurt to have some backup.”

“It’s not like I have anything better to do,” Benedicto stated as he walked down the stairs.

“Wonderful. And...”

The Prince leaned forward and spoke softly.

“This may be a bit agitating, but try to keep your relationship with Benedicto a secret. The Quirnosi spiritual faith is polytheistic, and they have gods for everything, including love. And apparently, the love gods don’t all get along. So, I’d rather not risk losing the treaty simply because the ambassador might potentially worship a god that disapproves of love like ours.”

Oh...

“Well, that should be everything.”

Prince Esteban walked back over and grabbed Victor’s arm.

“Come on. I have to use Izabel.”

“ESTEBAN!!!”

“What? I do!”

He pulled his blushing bodyguard up and started dragging him to the bedchamber. He stopped to nod to Gilberto one more time.

“I expect that treaty back by sunset with the ambassador’s signature on it. Oh, and don’t forget the pillow. And, the dishes. Dismissed, master Herrera.”

Gilberto bowed his head.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

***

“I hope I’m not cramping your style.”

“It’s fine,” Gilberto stated as they walked, “I enjoy any time I get to spend with you.”

“Yeah... Too bad we have to keep it a secret.”

“We do what we have to to get what we want.”

“I know, but still,” Benedicto sighed, “It’s like I’m back with my parents all over again.”

Ooh...

Ouch.

The two boys walked through the Mender’s Bazaar in search of the Quirnosi ambassador, with vendors and merchants shouting at every angle.

“This isn’t,” Gilberto shook his head, “like that. We’re only keeping ourselves secret at the request of the Prince, he isn’t forcing us. And besides, it’s only until the treaty is signed.”

“Spending mere seconds repressing myself is going to be enough to drive me mad...”

“Look. Benedicto,” Gilberto stated, “I won’t try to pretend that I know what it’s like. Going through what you’ve gone through. But, I promise this is only temporary. I don’t like it either, but we’re doing this for the greater good,” he assured him, “An entire territory is depending on us. The Prince is depending on us. And all we have to do, is keep our mouths shut and our hands to ourselves.”

“And, our cocks?”

“In our pants.”

“You make that sound so easy,” Benedicto chuckled and sighed, “But, I guess I get what you’re saying.”

Benedicto smiled sadly at him.

“I liked the way you stood up to Victor.”

Gilberto looked back ahead of them, “It was nothing. Like we said, I did what I had to to get what I wanted.”

“Still. I don’t think I’d have been able to do that to Danita...”

Gilberto blushed, “Well, Victor and I never had sex, so,” he shrugged.

“Who said I had sex with Danita?”

“You did. I believe your exact words were, ‘we made quite a raucous at night together.’”

“Yeah? And?”

“Victor and the Prince make quite a raucous at night together...”

“So!? Making noise doesn’t mean I had sex with her!”

“But, you did, didn’t you?”

“...Oh look, mangos!”

“Mhmm,” Gilberto smirked as Benedicto retreated to buy fruit.

“...Prince chose you after all...”

A magic user walked past him.

“...indeed...”

After the light snack, Gilberto and Benedicto continued walking through the Bazaar.

After a short while, Gilberto stopped and pointed.

“There.”

A little ways ahead of them, there were two separate groups of foreigners conversing.

It was the Quirnosi and Pentozi ambassadors. They had two bodyguards each.

The Pentozi were all wearing odd outfits that seemed to be a bit neutral instead of gendered, and the bodyguards each carried a skinny spear and a blank, round shield.

The Quirnosi wore clothing with lots of wrappings. The ambassador himself wore some sort of embroidered robes and a head-wrap around his hair. His two female bodyguards were wearing armored robes and had their wraps wrapped around their entire heads except for their faces, and they both carried these strange curved swords.

Gilberto nodded to Benedicto, “Let’s go.”

They started to approach the foreign representatives...

“Hey! Wait!”

Just then, a small magic user ran up and blocked their path.

“Hello there,” Gilberto greeted the strange boy.

The boy’s eyes popped as he looked at Gilberto, and he started to blush.

“Oh, umm... Hi.”

Hmm...

Interesting...

Benedicto addressed him, “We’re on important business, Apprentice.”

“I-I can see that,” the shy wizard’s apprentice nodded, “You want to see one of the ambassadors?”

“Yes,” Gilberto confirmed, “The Quirnosi ambassador. Masim Nal-Rumancel. We have business with him.”

“I’m Ambassador Masim’s guide,” the boy stated, “On loan from the Basilica De Santana. Who... who are you?”

The boy was still blushing, and he seemed to be having a hard time looking Gilberto in the eye.

Very interesting...

“I’m Gilberto Herrera,” Gilberto introduced them, “This is Wizard Benedicto Madera. We’re here to speak to the ambassador on behalf of the Crown Prince Esteban Reyes.”

“The... Prince?” The boy went wide-eyed, “What does the Prince want with the ambassador?”

“That’s our business,” Benedicto stated, “And, what’s your name, Apprentice?”

“Inigo.”

...Well, that was a silly name.

And, that was coming from someone named Gilberto.

“Inigo,” Gilberto smiled, “Cute.”

Apprentice Inigo turned as red as a tomato.

Mhm.

That’s what Gilberto had thought.

“Yeah,” Benedicto looked at him funnily, “Right. Well, nice meeting you and all, Inigo, but like I said, we’re on important business, now if you’ll excuse us...”

“W-wait!” Inigo stopped them, “I can’t just let you walk up to the ambassador without reason. You need to... explain what you want, or... or set up an appointment, or... or... something.”

Benedicto glared at the little apprentice. He walked up and towered over him, causing the boy to cower.

“You would dare question the authority of your future King?”

“I-I-I-I—P-please, I’m just doing my job—!”

“Ay, Benedicto, ya. Leave him alone.”

They both stared at him. Gilberto walked up and smiled at the boy, taking his hand.

“I understand that you’re just doing your job, Inigo, and you’re doing it excellently. I’m just doing my job too. And, that job right now is for me to talk to the ambassador for the Prince. If you were to help me, I would be extremely grateful.”

Inigo stared down at their interlocked hands. He didn’t say a word.

“Ahem,” Benedicto grabbed Gilberto’s arm, “Excuse us.”

He pulled him away until they were out of earshot.

“What are you doing!?” He whispered.

“Flirting,” Gilberto shrugged, “It’s harmless, I’m not going to do anything about it. No need to be jealous.”

“That has nothing to do with it,” he stated, though Gilberto could tell that wasn’t true, “Gilberto, you cannot flirt with a wizard’s apprentice of the church!”

“It’s harmless,” he repeated, “And, it’s effective. If you haven’t noticed, he’s got a thing for me. Why not use that to our advantage?”

“Because, that boy belongs to the Basilica!” Benedicto argued, “He serves in the house of God! You cannot make moves on a servant of God, that is an unspeakable sin!”

“He’s a growing preadolescent, Benedicto. Being a servant of God does not abolish one’s physical tendencies and natural desires. Besides, he’s male, you know perfectly well that keeping to his vows will be like keeping from breathing.”

“Gilberto, the boy is a church apprentice!”

“The boy is a boy!”

“Um.”

They both turned to the apprentice.

“I-I think if you really need to talk to the ambassador, i-if your business is really important,” he held his elbow in his hand, “that would be okay...”

Gilberto smiled gratefully, “Thank you very much, Inigo.”

The boy giggled shyly, “Of course.”

He turned to lead them to the ambassador, and the two of them followed.

“Told you,” Gilberto mumbled.

“Whatever. It’s still wrong.”

“Whatever you say.”

They followed him over to the ambassadors, who seemed to be conversing about the products in a vendor’s stall.

“Umm, Ambassador?” Inigo stated, “These two gentlemen would like to speak with you.”

The Quirnosi ambassador turned to them. He was a dark man with a bushy beard. He smiled warmly at them.

“Ahh, good day,” he greeted in a foreign accent, “And, to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”

“Greetings, Ambassador Masim,” Gilberto bowed, “My name is Gilberto Herrera, and this is my companion, Wizard Benedicto Madera.”

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” the ambassador pointed, “Ah, but where are my manners? This is my good friend, Ymel of Uestal, ambassador of Pentoz.”

“Good day, gentlemen.”

“Good day, Ambassador,” Gilberto nodded.

Gilberto couldn’t for the life of him figure out what gender the Pentozi ambassador was. This individual had so many features that were all so androgynous.

“We’re here to speak with Ambassador Masim on an important matter,” Benedicto stated.

“Ah, then I suppose that is my cue to leave,” the Pentozi ambassador stated, “I would not want to get in the way of such important business. Shall I find you later, Masim?”

“Of course. Good day, my friend.”

The Pentozi ambassador and bodyguards took their leave. Ambassador Masim chuckled.

“Quite a fun person, that Ymel.”

“Indeed,” Gilberto agreed, “He seems quite friendly.”

“Ah-ah,” the Quirnosi ambassador held up a finger.

Gilberto squinted, “She?”

“Not quite. They.”

“They?”

“Yes, they,” the ambassador chuckled, “Do not worry, it confused me at first as well, but they explained everything to me. The Pentozi have quite an interesting society. Not only do they possess no difference in roles between men and women, but they even have—how would you call it?—another, in-between gender as well.”

“In between?”

“Yes. A sort of third that is neither male nor female. They call them genderless,” the ambassador stated, “Just as their Great Deity.”

Huh.

A third gender.

You learn something new everyday.

“Is that why,” Gilberto asked, “their clothes are so...?”

“Oh no, that is just Pentozi attire,” the ambassador explained, “As I stated, their society makes no differences between genders. And, that includes in their clothing.”

Hmm.

Interesting.

“But again, I forget my manners,” Ambassador Masim chuckled, “We have gotten off track. How may I help you, young gentlemen?”

“We are here on behalf of His Grace the Crown Prince,” Benedicto stated, “to speak to you about his treaty for trade.”

“Ahh, excellent!” Ambassador Masim chortled, “I was wondering when His Grace would approach me, I am quite eager to hear his proposal. Let us—.”

“Excuse me, Ambassador.”

A woman approached him, then stopped when she saw Gilberto.

“Oh. My apologies, am I interrupting?”

“Not quite yet, we were just getting started,” the ambassador stated, “How may I help you, madam?”

“My name is Wizardess Rita,” she stated, “It is not I who wishes to speak, my companion will be arriving shortly.”

“Ah, very well then, we shall wait.”

Gilberto turned, “Benedicto, could you give the ambassador a rundown of His Grace’s proposal?”

“Sure,” he nodded.

Benedicto walked up to speak with the ambassador.

Wizardess Rita slowly strolled over and stood next to Gilberto.

“...number and rank...”

“...Condor Twelve...” Gilberto answered, “...Ciudad Del Fundador... yourself...?”

“...unmarked...” she whispered back, “...still a chick...”

“...a little old for a chick...”

“...a little young for a condor...”

“...fair enough... your companion...?”

“...marked... am here accompanying—.”

“...Warbler Ten... Ciudad Del Fundador...”

Warbler Ten!?

Gilberto turned.

A familiar, golden-skinned woman with curly hair walked over.

“Greetings, Ambassador.”

“Ah,” the ambassador greeted, “Are you this gentlewoman’s companion?”

“I am.”

She turned to Gilberto.

“Care to introduce me?”

Gilberto indicated to her.

“Ambassador... this is my sister.”

He looked at her.

“Guadalupe Herrera.”

Lupe curtsied, “A pleasure, Ambassador.”

“Ah, the pleasure is all mine. Are you here to speak on behalf of His Grace as well?”

“Not quite,” Lupe stated, “I am here to discuss a treaty as well. On behalf of Her Grace the Queen.”

Of course...

“Oh,” Ambassador Masim raised his eyebrows, “Well, isn’t this quite an interesting turn of events.”

“It most certainly is,” Lupe glanced at Gilberto.

“Well, since we are all here, I see no reason why I cannot hear out both proposals!”

He motioned for his bodyguards and beckoned for everyone to follow him.

“Come! We shall speak as we travel, and once we reach the embassy, I shall hopefully have reached a decision.”

“An excellent idea, Ambassador.”

“Let us depart!”

Everyone started to go. Gilberto turned to Benedicto.

“Take over for a minute. I need to have words with my sister.”

“No kidding. Don’t take too long.”

Benedicto rushed away to begin negotiations as Wizardess Rita did the same.

Gilberto straggled behind as Lupe came over and walked beside him.

“...hello, little brother...”

“...hello yourself...”

“...cute eyeliner...”

“...thank you, cute haircut...”

“...thank you kindly...”

“...been a while...”

“...congratulations on your promotion...”

“...thank you... wish we could have reunited under better circumstances...”

“...agreed...”

“...Prince is counting on me, Lupe...”

“...Queen is counting on me, Beto...”

“...Belatierra needs this...”

“...Percoza needs it more...”

“...not going to let you have this...”

“...try and stop me...”

Before he could get another word out, Lupe speed-walked up to negotiate with the ambassador. Gilberto caught up to do the same.

He wasn’t going to let Warbler Ten take this from him, no matter who she was to him.

Warbler and condor were their ranks in Reinos Intelligence. They meant scout and infiltrator respectively.

There were seven official ranks in total in Reinos Intelligence. Chicks were the ones that were still in training, and they didn’t get numbers. The rest were full whisperers. Warblers were scouts, condors were infiltrators, and shrikes were assassins. They all reported to hawks, who were the handlers, who then reported to eagles, who were the handler higher-ups. There was one eagle for each region, and they all reported directly to the Phoenix, the mistress of whisperers herself, Lady Chava Ayala.

And sister or not, this condor wasn’t about to let some warbler outshine him in front of everybody.

This was his win.

And, he was going to take it.

Lupe was now in the process of discussing Percoza’s exports.

Okay. Gilberto could definitely work with that.

This might be easier than he thought.

“...and of course, the Lordship’s main export is maize,” she was saying, “Maize is quite a large part of our diet, you’ll find it in a number of famous Reinos dishes. Tortillas, tamales, arepas—.”

“Ambassador, have you ever tried hot chocolate?”

Gilberto hid his smile as Lupe glared at him.

“Ah, indeed,” the ambassador smiled, “It is one of my favorite Reinos beverages! I will often find myself craving a cup in the middle of the night.”

“Belatierra’s major export is the cacao bean, the primary ingredient in chocolate. It’s also where we grow the most and best of them. I daresay without the Lordship’s cacao plantations, what little chocolate we would have would be, let’s just say significantly less notable.”

“Hmm, yes. Without chocolate, Reinos food might yet become lesser,” he looked thoughtful, “but the same can be argued for maize, what with everything it goes in. Tough decision, tough, tough...”

Hmm.

That could have gone much better.

Gilberto needed more ideas.

He turned to Apprentice Inigo, who was trailing beside the ambassador.

He smiled at him, “What do you know about the Lordships, Inigo?”

The boy’s eyes popped upon the realization that he had been talking to him.

“Oh. Umm. Not much. Just what’s been said.”

“And, which one would you prefer? Maize or chocolate?”

“Gilberto...”

Gilberto shook his head at Benedicto.

He was a little boy, of course he would choose chocolate.

“Oh. Well, I don’t know... chocolate, I guess?”

Mhm.

“No offense, but should the opinion of a small child be of such importance to a negotiation?” Lupe argued.

Gilberto patted his shoulder, “He’s a mature-enough boy. Aren’t you, Inigo?”

“Oh—Uh—I—!”

“Why don’t we discuss the benefits of supporting the Queen?” Wizardess Rita suggested.

“Yes, a marvelous idea,” Lupe agreed, “Thank you, Rita.”

“Very well,” the ambassador nodded, “Go on.”

“Ambassador,” Lupe stated, “It’s really very simple. The Queen is the ruler of Ravarra. Not the Prince. Surely showing your support for the Kingdom’s ruler sounds more beneficial to you?”

“Maybe,” Gilberto argued, “But, she will not be the ruler forever, and someday her son will take her place. The Queen is the present. The Prince is the future. Ambassador, don’t you think it might be even more beneficial to support the future ruler? I believe he might remember it quite fondly when he ascends to the throne.”

“Hmm, both very convincing arguments,” he nodded, “Hmm, quite tough decisions all...”

This wasn’t working well enough.

He needed more.

When the ambassador wasn’t looking, he turned and took Inigo’s hand again.

“What do you think, Inigo? Queen or Prince? Present or future?”

“Umm, I-I don’t know...”

“Surely you must agree with me, don’t you, Inigo?” Gilberto brought his hand up to his mouth, “I would be,” he kissed it lightly, “very grateful if you did.”

“Uh—Uhh—I-I—!”

“AHEM!!!” Benedicto cleared his throat all too loudly, “Gilberto, may I speak with you for a moment!?”

“I’m in the middle of something, sugarcane!”

“‘Sugarcane?’”

Gilberto turned to see everyone staring. The ambassador eyed his and Inigo’s locked hands.

Uh oh...

Gilberto released him, smiled apologetically, then pulled Benedicto aside.

“What do you think you’re doing!?” Gilberto whispered.

“I should ask the same of you!” Benedicto retorted.

“You’re going to undermine this whole negotiation!”

“And, you’re going to go to the crevice for sinning!”

“It’s flirting! Harmless flirting!”

“Flirting is never harmless!”

“Why is it never harmless!?”

“It just is! Now, stop talking like that to that boy!”

“Why!?”

“Because!”

“Because, why!?”

“BECAUSE, YOU’RE ONLY SUPPOSED TO TALK THAT WAY TO ME!!!”

Gilberto tensed.

Benedicto’s face fell as he seemed to realize what he’d just done.

Gilberto turned. Everyone was staring at them. Inigo especially looked conflicted.

“To you...? Wait...”

“Umm,” Benedicto stuttered, “I can explain...”

“Are you two... lovers?”

“I-I—We—!”

“Lovers?” Ambassador Masim asked, “Lovers, you say? You two young gentlemen?”

He turned and started talking to his bodyguards in his native language.

Damnit.

Damnit, damnit, damnit.

This whole thing was getting way out of hand.

Maybe he could still salvage this.

Convince the ambassador that he had meant something else. Anything else.

Maybe he could...

Gilberto caught Benedicto’s eyes.

Caught the pleading look in them.

A look that he understood very clearly.

‘No more lies...’

...

...

...

“...Yes.”

Everyone turned back to them.

Gilberto stood his ground and addressed them.

“Yes, we are. We are lovers.”

He took Benedicto’s hand in his.

“I’m sorry to have kept the truth from you. From all of you. But, I’m done hiding it. I’ve hidden a lot of things in my short lifetime, but this is one that I cannot keep to myself. We are lovers. And, we care for each other. Very much.”

Benedicto smiled at him. He smiled back.

He may have lost the treaty, but at least he had what really mattered.

Someone to care for who cared for him back.

Belatierra was going to starve now, though. Damn.

Maybe he could make this up to the Prince somehow.

Maybe he could—.

“Oh! How delightful!”

...What?

Gilberto stared at the ambassador.

“I’m... I’m sorry...?”

“I said how delightful! That is truly a wonderful revelation!”

Ambassador Masim chuckled as everyone continued to stare in confusion.

“Allow me to explain. In our society, those who love the same sex are regarded as worshippers of the deity, Ishar, the patron of same sex love.”

He indicated to himself and his guards.

“It brings me no shame to say that my sentinels and I are all proud worshippers of Ishar. You and us, gentlemen, are very much alike!”

Behind him, one of said sentinels planted a kiss on her partner’s cheek.

Gilberto didn’t know what to say.

After everything that had just happened... After everything...

Maybe this was a sign.

A sign from Gilberto’s God, or one the ambassador’s, or whatever.

He didn’t know what else it could be.

For everything to turn out like this... It was unthinkable.

Everything was turning around for the better.

Huh...

Maybe...

“You know,” Gilberto stated, “His Grace is also... a follower of this Ishar.”

“Ahh, even more delightful!” Ambassador Masim clapped, “I had heard the rumors about him, but had thought it not but a poor tactic to badmouth him. I am pleased to know that it is not, and that it is true! How very, very delightful!”

Gilberto smiled.

“So... perhaps you might be willing to sign the Prince’s treaty? For the purpose of,” he shrugged, “supporting each other?”

“Of course!” Ambassador Masim agreed, “I could not agree more! In a world like this, people like us need to stick together!”

Gilberto smiled widely and nodded, “Agreed.”

The ambassador turned and smiled apologetically at Lupe.

“My apologies, madam, I wish we could have come to a compromise, but the decision has been made. Do tell Her Grace that it was nothing personal, and give her my best, will you?”

“Of course,” Lupe bowed her head, “I understand. I will leave you to it. Good day, Ambassador.”

“Good day.”

Lupe and Rita turned to leave. Before departing, Lupe glanced at Gilberto.

“...well played, little brother...”

“...hope it doesn’t sting too much, Lupe...”

“...try not to choke on your aspirations, Beto...”

“...see you around...”

“...oh, you will...”

Gilberto watched as his sister left.

Hopefully the next time they reunited, it would be under better circumstances.

The ambassador clasped his hands together, “Now then, let us away to the embassy, shall we? I have a treaty to sign!”

Gilberto smiled and nodded, “Of course, Ambassador.”

***

“...I tell you, I lay with the god of the hunt himself, I swear it!”

“I don’t doubt it! How was it?”

“Oh, he was quite a virile fellow, let me tell you!”

Gilberto and Benedicto laughed with the ambassador on their way back to Prince Esteban’s chambers.

This had been quite a fruitful day for Gilberto.

Not only had he gotten the treaty signed and made a new friend in the ambassador, but he even learned a bit about Quirnosi culture too.

Apparently, their militaries were segregated by gender. Men were the offense, known as warriors, and women were the defense, known as sentinels, which was why all of his bodyguards were female.

That was also apparently a point where the ambassador and his bodyguards actually didn’t get along. As a man, Ambassador Masim was a worshipper of Rao, god of men and warriors, while they were all worshippers of Naua, goddess of women and sentinels.

Quite a complicated culture, Quirnon had.

At least they didn’t seem to violently oppose each other like followers of the love gods did.

Apparently, the god, Ishar, had a twin named Sebar, who was the god of opposite sex love. The two gods apparently hated each other, and that hate was often expressed by their followers.

And, it goes without saying that Sebar was the more popular one.

Again, quite complicated.

Thankfully, Ravarra wasn’t like that...

...Most of the time.

Finally, they reached the Prince’s chambers.

Gilberto opened the door and let everyone inside, where Prince Esteban and Victor were still sitting on the daybed.

“Oh,” the Prince stood up, “Forgive me, Ambassador Masim, I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Yes, yes, you must forgive my unannounced appearance, Your Grace, but I simply had to deliver this to you personally.”

He handed him the paper.

“Your treaty. Signed and approved.”

The Prince looked at it. He smiled at the ambassador.

“Thank you, Ambassador, I assure you you won’t regret this.”

“I know well that I won’t.”

Victor came over and stood next to the Prince.

Gilberto pointed, “This is His Grace’s bodyguard, Ambassador.”

“Ahh, so this is the famous Victor!”

“Oh. Yes,” Victor bowed his head, “Good day to you, Ambassador.”

“My, my, you weren’t exaggerating about those eyes! Quite a catch, if I may say so, Your Grace, quite a catch!”

“A catch, hmm? Yes, I believe he is.”

Victor started to turn red.

“Well, as much fun as I’ve been having, I must return to the embassy,” the ambassador stated, “I have a load of documents to look over before suppertime. Good day, everyone, my friends!”

“Good day. Victor,” the Prince stated, “Accompany the ambassador back to his embassy. Just in case any of my mother’s supporters get unruly. But, don’t take too long. I have... a crucial assignment for you. In the bedchamber.”

Victor turned even redder, “By your command, Your Grace.”

Gilberto turned, “Benedicto, would you accompany them as well? We shouldn’t take any chances.”

“Alright,” Benedicto mumbled with a smirk, “But, I’ve got a crucial assignment in our bedchamber as well.”

Gilberto smiled, “I’ll find you later then.”

“I’ll be waiting,” he smirked again, “Beto.”

Gilberto glared at him.

“Call me that again, and you’re sleeping with the horses... Benito.”

“Okay, okay, point taken. See you.”

Benedicto left with Victor and the Quirnosi.

Gilberto noticed Apprentice Inigo lingering. He still looked a bit conflicted.

Gilberto came over to him with a smile and took his hand.

“Thank you for all of your help, Inigo.”

He kissed his cheek.

The boy’s eyes popped again. Then, he smiled a big dopey smile, and ran off to catch up with the rest of them.

Gilberto returned and closed the door. He thought about something, then turned to the Prince.

“...It was your plan all along to send me and Benedicto. Wasn’t it?”

The Prince simply smiled.

“I’m impressed, Condor Twelve. It’s not even midday yet.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Gilberto bowed his head, “I only did as I was ordered.”

“And, you did so marvelously. Your skill, promptness, and craftiness are clearly advanced for your years and experience.”

“I’m not as slow as I once was,” Gilberto explained, “In wartime especially, one must learn to adapt to new surroundings.”

“And, that you have. You’re very possibly the greatest whisperer I have ever seen.”

“Thank you, Your Grace, I am very flattered to hear that.”

“Which is why I believe you’re due for a promotion.”

Gilberto paused.

“...Y-Your Grace? A promotion?”

“Yes,” the Prince sat back down on the daybed, “A promotion. You have proven yourself, and I could very well use a spymaster in my retinue.”

The Prince smiled at him.

“How do you feel about the title... ‘Hawk Seven?’”

Chapter Text

Esteban woke up unusually early today.

He knew it was unusually early, because Victor was still asleep next to him.

He stretched and yawned, then looked down at his snoozing lover.

He was such a beautiful creature. With his wavy hair, and his olive skin, and those absolutely captivating eyes.

He looked so peaceful. Sleeping peacefully while the covers lifted and dropped with every purr—that’s right, purr. Too heavy to be breathing. Too soft to be snoring. Purring was the only word to describe it. It was such a calming sound, and Esteban was convinced that just listening to it was the perfect cure for any form of sleeplessness. He didn’t know how he ever got to sleep at night before he had his purring butt-boy to tend to all of his humanly needs.

He rarely ever got to see him like this. Most of the time, they usually got up around the same time, and whenever they didn’t, Victor would be the one up first. But today, Esteban was up first, because today was a special day. Why?

Because, today was Esteban’s birthday.

That time of the year that was celebrated whenever he got a year older.

His birthdays were always treated like the most important holidays, and apparently, despite the whole war thing, this year wasn’t going to be any exception.

In the morning, he was going to have breakfast with his entire family, and he would be presented with lots of gifts. Uncle Raymundo would get him something prideful, Aunt Roana would get him something pretty, Esme would get him something peculiar, like every year. If Uncle Celso were here—God rest his soul—he would have gotten him something childish, and if his grandmother were here, she would have gotten him something robust.

At midday, he would attend a banquet with the aristocracy, where he would thank them for wishing him a happy day and listen to all of their sometimes-interesting, other-times-boring stories about what was going on in their lands, and pretend to be interested when all of the eligible bachelorettes made insufferable attempts at courting him.

In the afternoon, he would attend the festivities that were being held all across the Ciudad Del Fundador, where he would smile and wave and blow kisses to all of the cute little common people that loved him simply for being royalty, and seriously-overdo how flattered he would be when all of the enamored common girls—and, sometimes boys—would not-so-discreetly offer to spread their legs for him.

Then at night, all of his non-adult friends and family would have their own celebration with him. Marina and Amador would try and fail to drag him to a brothel. Feliz would try and probably succeed at dragging him out to play childish games in the gardens. He was pretty sure Gilberto and Benedicto were going to do some sort of performance for him, maybe a romantic duet or something.

And then of course, there was Victor. Victor had been not-so-discreetly stressing all month. He had subtly asked Esteban a few times if there was anything he wanted, and Esteban had decided to be silly with him.

So, he’d told him, ‘All I could ever possibly want is you.’

And of course, that had only stressed him out more.

If he’d actually managed to come up with something, Esteban would be genuinely surprised.

Poor boy.

He’d make it up to him next month.

Victor’s birthday was next month, and Esteban had decided early on that he was going to pamper him like he was the most beloved thing in the world.

Because, that’s what he was to Esteban.

The most beloved thing in the world.

He gave his forehead a light kiss, then got up and out of bed to get ready for his big day. After he’d refreshed himself up and gotten dressed, he went out into the main room.

Mewl, ‘Happy birthday, buddy!’

The three cats, Antonio, Mariana, and Leo ran over and rubbed up against his legs.

“Yes, thank you, thank you very much, please don’t trip me.”

The last thing he needed on his birthday was a broken nose.

Although... he could honestly probably fix that instantly. He could heal an entire battlefield, after all. A broken nose should be easy as hell.

That was the best present he could have ever gotten.

Life-source-whatever powers.

That, and the existence of Victor.

Those were both the best presents in the world.

Esteban opened the door to let the cats out to play on the balcony, then went back and sat down on the daybed. As soon as he’d settled in, Victor emerged from the bedchamber rubbing his eyes, and for some reason, holding Esteban’s magic scepter in his hand.

“Good morning, angel.”

Victor smiled, “Good morning. Happy birthday.”

Esteban raised his arms, “Yes, it is my birthday! Come and give me a birthday kiss!”

Victor giggled, coming over and giving him a sweet kiss on the lips.

“Since when do you get up so early?” Victor asked, still standing.

“Since it’s my special day!” Esteban smiled, “What did you get me?”

Victor’s face instantly fell.

He looked like he was about to cry.

Uh oh...

“I-I tried so hard to find something. I really, really tried. But, everything I came up with was something you already had, or something you didn’t need or...” he sniffled, “You have everything anyone could possibly want, and I... I...”

“Please don’t cry,” Esteban shook his head, “Your Prince commands you not to cry.”

If Victor started crying, this was going to turn into the worst birthday in history.

Victor sniffled, then he held up the scepter, “I-I polished Valor for you.”

Esteban took it and looked it over. It was gleaming from every angle, from the obsidian handle to the diamond cat head.

“Well, that was very thoughtful of you, thank you.”

Victor smiled sadly, “And... I-I thought about what you said, about how all you could ever want is me, and I figured... well, you already have me, but you could have... well... all of me.”

What?

‘All of him?’

“What does that mean?”

“Well... It means exactly what it sounds like it means.”

Victor stood as if he were awaiting orders.

“I decided that, as my gift to you, I would give you full possession of my body. For a day, you can do absolutely whatever you want to me, and I will have no power to stop you. You own me. I am yours.”

Esteban stared at him.

He took in the idea of what he was offering.

“So... you’re basically telling me that... you’re becoming my slave.”

“Y-yes.”

“That seems... a little problematic. You’re descended from slaves, are you not?”

“I am,” his face fell again, “I know it’s stupid, I-I—.”

“No crying.”

Esteban looked him up and down, thinking deeply.

He used Valor to scratch his chin absentmindedly.

“Hmm... I like this idea...”

Victor’s face lit up again.

“You do?”

“Yes...”

Esteban stared at him again.

He took Valor and poked one of the ears at Victor’s crotch. Victor jumped and grunted in pain reflexively, but otherwise didn’t stop him.

Hm...

Hmm...

Esteban smirked, “So, what if I said I wanted to take polished, gleaming Valor here and shove it all the way up your ass?”

Victor visibly tensed.

“...I-I would have no power to stop you. My... my body is yours.”

Mm-mm-mmm...

Well, obviously he wasn’t going to do that, but...

...This opened up a whole new realm of possibilities...

Huh...

...OOOH!!!

“I,” Esteban mused, “have an idea... A very... very naughty idea...”

Victor’s olive skin started to redden, “What is it?”

“Fair warning,” Esteban smiled, “You’re not going to like it.”

Esteban stood up. He put Valor down and pulled Victor into him, starting to caress his lover.

“There’s something of a tacit, unuttered tradition,” he whispered into his ear, “among every monarch that has ever sat upon the Royal Throne.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Whether they were the rulers at the time that they’d done it or not, at some point in their lives, every monarch has done it,” he nodded up to the painting of Samuel and Sol, “Even those two.”

“Is it something that involves lovers?”

“Yes,” Esteban nodded, “It involves them and the loves of their lives.”

“Has your mother done it?”

Esteban tensed at that.

“...I’d rather not think about that.”

“I’m starting to get scared.”

“You should be...”

Esteban ran his hands up and down Victor’s body.

“The tradition is a simple one. It goes like this,” he whispered, “The royal takes their lover into the throne room. The royal sits on the throne. And, their lover...”

He bit his earlobe.

“...Orally pleasures them.”

Victor gasped. Esteban kissed the ear that started to turn as red as a piece of fruit.

“You...” he asked, “You want me to do this to you?”

“Yes...”

“You want to take me into the throne room, sit on the throne—your mother’s throne—and have me... suck your dick?”

“Indeed...”

“Right in the middle of the most important room in the realm?” Victor asked, “While you’re sitting in the most important seat in the realm?”

“Precisely...”

Esteban pressed his ever-growing boner against him.

“Someday, I’ll be the one sitting on that throne for real,” he brushed a knuckle against his cheek, “And, you are the only person in the world I’ll ever love. So, I don’t want to wait a moment longer. I want to take part in this tradition,” he kissed him, “with you.”

“What if we get caught?”

“Then, I’ll blame the whole thing on you, and have you castrated.”

“But—.”

Esteban shushed him with a finger to his soft, pink lips.

“This is what you agreed to when you said your body was mine,” he told him, “This is what I want for my birthday. It’s not a question. It’s an order. You will come to the throne room with me and suck the magical soul out of my dick.”

He pinched his little lips.

“Your Prince commands it.”

Esteban released his lips. Victor looked down and nodded.

“As you wish, my Prince.”

Esteban smiled widely, “Good.”

He grabbed his scepter and pushed Victor toward the door.

“Let’s go.”

“Right now!?”

“Right fucking now.”

He spanked him forward.

“Move your cute ass.”

***

“I’m nervous, Esteban.”

“Your Prince did not give you permission to speak.”

Victor shut his mouth.

Esteban snorted, “Alright. Speak.”

“I’m really scared about doing this,” he looked up at him, “What if we actually get caught?”

“Like I said, I’ll have you castrated.”

Victor glared at him, “Haha. What will you actually do?”

Esteban shrugged, “I’ll tell whoever walked in on us that if they ever tell anyone, I’ll have them castrated.”

Victor looked around, “What if it’s your mother?”

“Then, I’ll have her castrated,” he stated, “I still owe her for trying to starve Belatierra.”

“Esteban!”

“We’re not going to get caught, Victor,” he told him, “It’s too early in the morning for anyone to catch us. The only person even close to the throne room right now is whichever Guard is on duty there.”

“High Dame Yolanda,” Victor stated.

Esteban shrugged, “So if we run into her, I’ll tell her that we have business in the throne room, and to make sure that we’re not disturbed. Simple as that.”

“I hope you’re right about this.”

“I am life incarnate,” Esteban stated proudly, “I am right about everything.”

And today, he wasn’t proven wrong.

Once they reached the entrance to the throne room, they found the Royal Guard patrolling the halls.

High Dame Yolanda saluted, “Your Grace.”

Esteban nodded, “We have business in the throne room. Is it empty?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Good. Make sure that we’re not disturbed.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” then, she looked at Victor funnily, “Why are you not in your armor?”

“My shift hasn’t started yet!”

“Your shift starts when His Grace awakens.”

“It’s fine,” Esteban ran a hand down Victor’s back, “I shall be punishing him presently...”

Victor’s entire face turned red.

Esteban didn’t care. High Dame Yolanda had been here long enough, she obviously knew the extent of their relationship.

The Guard snorted, “Have fun with that. Good day, Your Grace.”

“Good day.”

He was still a little pissed off at her for beating up Victor so badly when she’d first arrived, but he could start to forgive it now. Start to.

Once High Dame Yolanda had continued on her route, Esteban and Victor came up to the massive double doors.

This was it.

Here they were.

And now, they were going to do this.

“Open it,” he told Victor.

Victor came forward and opened one of the doors for Esteban to walk inside.

Esteban breathed in the smell of the room. It smelled of oleander and rose, perfumed as it was everyday.

Even in the darkest of mornings, this room could shine as bright as the gates to the Kingdom Above. Rows upon rows of pews were set up to receive the masses. Gorgeous chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Round, detailed pillars held up opulent balconies.

And at the raised front and center of the room, there sat the Royal Throne of Ravarra.

He stopped at the bottom of the steps and looked up at it, so high up that it appeared to be in a whole other world separate from this one.

“Wait here,” he told Victor.

Then, he ascended up the steps.

With every step he took, he felt like he was growing, in height and power, as he ascended to his bloodline’s rightful seat. The grandest seat in all of the realm. Possibly even in all of the known world.

Finally, he reached the top.

The throne. It was like staring at an ethereal structure. So large and bedazzled. So grand and powerful. It asserted the utmost authority simply by sitting here where all could ogle and gaze upon it.

And, it was his.

Esteban ran a hand along the grand, bedazzled arms.

This throne was rightfully his.

The blood flowing in his veins was the only claim he needed to prove that this seat rightfully belonged to him.

This throne.

It had been created millennia ago. For his ancestor, King Marcel the Founder, and for all who came after him. Created for the sole purpose of being a place where Esteban’s family could impose their reign over this great continent.

It was so overwhelming to think that one could be known to all as the most powerful person in the world simply by sitting in this big, fancy chair.

Thrones.

Thrones were made for sitting in.

Only the strongest, the most eminent of asses could sit upon these thrones.

Thrones were made for butts.

And, this throne was made specifically for Esteban’s.

He turned, looking back at his opulent birthright as he did, and slowly lowered himself down into it.

He sat down, and sat back.

He had to grip the arms of the seat to handle the feeling of pure authority surging through him. Of pure dominance.

All of the power in the world.

All because his butt was planted in this big, fancy chair.

Whoever had said that thrones were uncomfortable was a damned fucking liar, or they’d obviously never sat in this one.

This was the most comfortable chair in the world.

He looked down at Victor, still at the bottom of the steps. Barely noticeable. So small and insignificant.

Esteban took out Valor, sat with his chin up, and used his scepter to beckon his lover forward in the most commanding way possible.

“Step forward, you... stinky underling.”

Victor snorted despite the worried look on his face.

Esteban watched as said stinky underling walked up the steps.

Tainting them.

Staining them with his... inferiority.

He came to the top and stopped, just standing there.

Radiating his lowness.

Esteban beckoned him again, “Closer.”

Victor walked a few steps forward and stopped again.

“Closer.”

He walked forward again and stopped right in front of Esteban.

Esteban spread his legs out wide.

“On. Your. Knees.”

Victor kneeled in front of him, and Esteban had to take in a sharp breath.

The feeling of Victor so close to him, his face so close to that part of Esteban’s body, was so powerful that he wanted to burst.

He used Valor to brush some light brown curls out of his eyes. Then, he put his scepter away and reached a hand forward to touched his smooth, olive face. He petted back and got his hand caught in his wavy, light brown hair.

Then, he took a fistful and yanked back, causing Victor to yelp.

“I could smell your stench from ten thousand kilometers away,” he stated, “You reek. You reek of weakness. Of inferior status. Of low fucking birth. You lowborn commoner filth!” He spat, “You don’t belong anywhere near a place of such pure power! You’re not even worth... pissing on!”

Victor gasped. Esteban used his other hand to lovingly caress his face. He could see the bulge growing in his inferior lover’s pants.

“Sweet, adorable little pet,” Esteban took his hand, “Do you know what the three most important things to an aristocrat are?”

Victor shook his head.

Esteban pulled his lover’s hand up and placed it on his knee, slowly pushing it forward.

“They are the three things that matter the most out of anything in the world. Money... Land...”

He pulled his hand forward and made it stop at his crotch.

“...And, genitalia.”

Victor gasped again. Esteban forced his lover’s hand to fondle the bulge in his pants. He was so hard that it hurt.

“The only things needed to impose their power upon the world. But, we need all three, otherwise it would never work. Without money, there would be no worth. Without land, there would be no authority. And without genitalia...”

He pushed Victor’s face forward and into his crotch.

“...There would be no legacy.”

He rubbed his face all over his clothed manhood, drinking in the feeling of such satisfying pleasure.

“I have it all,” he stated proudly, “And, I have the most powerful of it all. I have the most powerful money of them all. I have the most powerful land of them all. And, I have the most powerful... cock of them all!”

He pulled Victor’s face back, and sat back in a comfortable position.

“Free it,” he commanded, “Free it from it’s linen dungeon.”

Victor brought his hands up and unlaced Esteban’s pants. Esteban took in the feel of it. The feeling of Victor’s hands working down there. The knowledge of what he was going to do.

He pulled it out, and Esteban sighed at the sensation. Let it air out and breathe as he got used to the sensation of it being out and proud.

He petted Victor’s hair again, “Tell me what you see.”

Victor stared in confusion, “A cock?”

“Harder,” Esteban yanked again, “Tell me. What you. See.”

“I-I see...” Victor stared, “I see... a royal cock... The last of it’s kind.”

“Yes...” Esteban nodded, “Continue...”

“It is the only cock of it’s line still alive... The only one that can continue the legacy of the most powerful family in existence...”

“Yes... Yes...”

Victor looked up.

“And, that’s not all... I also see... a source cock... The cock of a source of magic and life...”

“Oh, yes...”

“A cock that could have been designed only by God Himself... Chosen by the divine to be a giver of their power to all the world...”

Victor looked back down at it, the infatuation clear in his beautiful eyes.

“This cock... is the future.”

“Yes...” Esteban breathed, “This cock is the only thing left that can keep the order in this chaotic earth. The future of the entire world is right here, dangling between my legs.”

Esteban lightly pushed at Victor’s head again.

“Go on,” he ordered, “Show it your respect.”

Victor crawled forward, eyes never leaving it. Esteban could feel his breath on it.

Esteban felt something wet poke his head, and he almost jumped back at the impact of such a pleasure-filled sensation.

Victor continued to lick his head, slowly graduating down the shaft, up and down, licking it like it was a delicious sweet.

Esteban could already feel the pleasure building up in his belly.

This was the most wonderful feeling in the world.

Then, he felt Victor take his head into his mouth, and Esteban had to gasp to hold back a greater moan.

Victor took the whole thing into his mouth. Esteban felt him gag a couple of times, but he kept going, and Esteban enjoyed every second of it.

He started to bob his head, sucking up and down, continuing this pattern repeatedly, as Esteban’s breathing grew heavier.

The pleasure was building up all throughout his abdomen. It felt like the most vigorous rush that was humanly possible to feel.

And after a short while, it erupted, and Esteban rode through the spasms as waves of ecstasy flowed through him.

When he was done out, Esteban petted Victor’s head one more time.

“I will hold you in my heart forevermore, my knight in shining armor.”

Best.

Birthday.

Ever.

Chapter Text

“Do you like it? I made sure that the cooks got it perfect, just for you.”

You are seated at the head of a long dining table, in the dining hall of the glamorous Del Mar citadel.

Sapphire chandeliers hang from the ceiling of this extensive room of the elegant, mango-colored castle, and intricate, gold-laced tapestries hang from the smooth wall to your right, while silky, pink curtains leading out to an open balcony blow in the breeze to your left. From here, you can see the shimmering rays of the orange sunset, as it goes down over the beautiful Isla Del Mar, over rolling green hills, palm tree forests, and sandy beaches.

The tropical breeze blows about the room, bringing with it the sweet smell of fruit trees, and the salty smell of the sea.

A feast has been laid out before you of a savory, spicy paella with shrimp, juicy mangos and strawberries and carambolas on the side, and a rich, sweet pineapple wine to go with it.

No one else is in the room except for you and your two hosts.

Amador Del Mar and Aurelio Ayala.

Aurelio sits down next to Amador at the other end of the table, “I was in deep cover in the mainland’s south before this. I hope you appreciate me compromising my mission to come here.”

“Ay, Aurelio, ya. Don’t be sour. This is an evening for us to enjoy ourselves to the fullest,” Amador turns back to you with a charming smile and bats his bright Contreras eyes, “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right,” Aurelio turns and bats his golden Oriol eyes at you as well, “He is cute. I’m sure he’ll be well worth possibly exposing my entire operation for.”

“Ay, you,” Amador shakes his head, brushing a lock of his shoulder-length dark hair from his bronze face.

You listen and watch them both as Amador the Whore and his Whore Paramour continue to talk and smile at you. Amador talks in his beautiful Isla accent, and Aurelio’s accent, though mostly still that of a southern mainlander, has too been effected by spending a significant amount of his life growing up on the Isla, with a few extra stretches and rolls and lilts here and there.

Ever since returning home after the Battle of the Ciudad Del Fundador, Amador and his twin, Marina, have stopped wearing their silky, exotic attires—probably on their mother’s orders—and are now only ever seen in Isla formalwear.

Though, it hardly makes a difference, as even the formal attire of the Isla nobility is altogether loose enough, tight enough, and gorgeous enough in all the right places for it to make everyone who wears them as attractive as promiscuous angels.

The twins’s paramours, however, still wear their erotic outfits, and Aurelio’s in particular now features a golden whisperer’s hood, attached to the feminine X-binds that go over and under his equally-golden arms and shoulders. His magic golden skin seems to shimmer in the setting sunlight.

“He seems pretty enamored with us as well,” Amador notes as he catches you staring. He smiles coyly at you, “I suppose you might be wondering how many boys we’ve treated to dinner before getting to the fun stuff. The answer is not many,” he bats his eyes again, “You’re special.”

“Yeah,” Aurelio nods, causing his golden hair to bounce, “I’d definitely say you’re worth it. You’re really cute. Where did you find this one, Amador?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Amador giggles effeminately.

You continue to enjoy dinner as the boys make flirtatious small talk at you, all the while taking time to appreciate their gorgeous figures. Aurelio’s exposed flesh shows off some small muscle on his skinny body, and Amador’s androgynous face gives off an impression of adorable, childlike innocence, even though you know very well that nothing could be further from the truth.

Once you finish eating, the two boys get up from their side of the table and stride across the room to you on either side.

They sit on the table next to you, Amador to your right, and Aurelio to your left.

Amador strokes a finger across your cheek and then under your chin, turning your face up to his coy smile.

“You have some salsa just there. Here. Let me get it...”

He leans down slowly, androgynous face coming closer and closer, until you feel his hot lips just under your own.

He lightly suckles on your skin, and you feel the tip of his smooth, wet tongue just barely graze you.

Then, he retracts, leaving not but a hot, wet tingle just under your lips, as he bats his eyes down at you.

“Much better...”

They both begin to run their hands across your body, across your arms and shoulders, your back, your chest.

“Why don’t we take this to the bedroom?” Aurelio—whisperer-wise as he is—suggests.

“Yes. Let’s,” Amador winks, “I’m dying to... get to know you better.”

They both slide off the table, and that’s when you see it. The lumps in their respective leggings. The perfect outlines of their erect, excited boyhoods, indicating exactly how they feel about you, and exactly what they plan to do with you.

They pull you to your feet and tug you out of the room and into the hall, on your way to a new destination where the real reason why you’re here will commence.

The hallways of the citadel are much like the dining room, with paintings and tapestries lining the walls, vases and sculptures and other works of art scattered throughout, and a statue or two here and there of some ancient Isla heroes.

But, all of that is trivial compared to what you soon notice before you. Amador is pulling you from the front, and with his back turned to you, you can now see that which is the true source of his popularity—and as you look upon it, you can tell that it is for perfectly good reason.

Amador’s magical posterior seems to entrance you as you watch it go. It is visibly round and thick, seemingly flexible, and yet firm as it seems to bounce as he walks in his tight leggings.

The way he holds onto your hand behind him leaves it but inches from touching it. If you reached out, you would be able to touch it, grope it, fondle it, and feel just what all of the clearly-justified fuss is about.

Finally, they stop you outside of a room with sizable doors.

Amador lets go of your hand, the memory of his heat still lingering there, and goes to open one of the doors.

He smiles warmly and beckons you inside, “Come in. Make yourself at home.”

As you enter, you take in the elegance of this beautiful bedchamber. Again, it is quite similar to the rest of the castle, and yet it also stands out on it’s own. At the other end of the room is a large master bed, covered in inviting sheets and pillows, and hidden by silky blue bed curtains. On one end of the room is a lounging area, and beyond that another balcony with curtains blowing in the tropical breeze, and on the other end is a study area, next to a door that you can decipher leads to the no doubt similar bedchambers of Marina.

On the wall hangs a large banner of the great sigil of House Del Mar, the Kingdom of Ravarra’s protectors of the west. A dark brown sea monster in a circle of melting icicles on a dark blue background.

“You noticed that, did you?” Amador asks beside you, “I suppose it’s hard not to.”

As Aurelio closes the door behind you, Amador walks over and looks up at the banner of his bloodline.

“Do you know the significance of this sigil?” He chuckles, “No, of course you don’t, I imagine this is probably the first time you’re seeing it,” he shrugs, “Well, for the most part, it’s really not that hard to interpret. The blue represents the sea, sea monsters are the rulers of the sea, yada yada yada...”

He points up to it with a handsome finger.

“...But, it’s the icicles that I’d like to focus on. The presence of ice on a family sigil might lead one to interpret that the bloodline is cold. Frigid. But of course,” he chuckles, “that is furthest from the truth for House Del Mar.”

He turns a beautiful smile on you.

“We are the ancient rulers of this isle of passion. Our people are passionate. Sensual. Filled to the brim with craving, uncontrollable lust. And of course, hot-blooded.”

He reaches up and runs a hand along the soft cloth of the banner.

“And, that is why the icicles melt. Because, nothing, not even the raw ice of a sea monster, can cool the blood of House Del Mar.”

You feel Aurelio’s hands snake onto your shoulders, as you feel his hot breath on your neck.

“It’s a trait we’re all grateful for, I’m sure.”

“We are indeed,” Amador agrees.

He walks over to you, hips swaying with every step, and stops in front of you. You can now feel them both in the air around you as they breathe.

Amador takes both of your hands and pulls them behind him, and you are suddenly aware of where they are going to go.

The world seems to brighten as you finally touch it. Amador’s magical backside. So firm and warm and big in your hands. You squeeze, feeling it all up. It’s flexibility. It’s firmness. It’s magic.

Amador wraps his hands around you and slowly leans in, androgynous face once again coming closer and closer with yours.

When your lips connect, the world seems to stop. You take the moment to feel everything. His warm body around yours. His hot lips against yours. His buttocks in your hands.

Then, he pulls away.

He backs up and smirks at you as he looks you over.

“It seems that we’re wearing too many layers for any real fun. Strip him for me, will you, Aurelio?”

“With pleasure.”

Aurelio turns you around.

He is already naked and hard.

You watch as he starts to undress you, his hands going all over your body, and lingering in certain places. He touches, sometimes full-on strokes you between your legs on a number of occasions.

When you’re finally out of your clothes, Aurelio smiles and looks you over.

“There. Much better.”

You look at his lips as he talks. He smirks at you.

“Want some from me too, huh? Well, I’ll be happy to oblige.”

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him. He kisses you. You feel his wet lips suckling at yours. You feel his magical skin against yours. And, you feel his dick against yours.

When he pulls back, he gives you one last kiss on the nose.

“I suppose we can’t keep all the action to ourselves.”

“You most certainly cannot.”

You are turned around to the sight of Amador naked and hard as well, with a familiar vial of glowing green fluid in his hand.

“Now that we’re all ready... let us get to it.”

He turns and walks toward the bed, giving you the greatest view of his bouncing, magical bronze ass.

Aurelio pushes you forward, and it seems like no time at all until you are standing at the edge of the bed, watching as Amador lays down and spreads his legs.

“I’ll take care of myself, and Aurelio will take care of you,” Amador smiles as he pours out some fluid, “All you have to do, cutie, is watch.”

And watch, you do.

Once Amador takes what he needs, he hands the vial to Aurelio’s golden arm as it snakes around you. You watch as Amador pokes himself, pushing inside with the ever so slightest of gasps.

Suddenly, you feel something wet against your dick. You look down to see Aurelio’s golden hand beginning to coat you with the green fluid. You can feel the relaxing energy of the magical substance as it is spread over your manhood.

Finally, you are fully coated, and you look down to see that Amador is also prepared, pulling his fingers out of his tight little hole.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he bats his eyes, “I’m yours.”

Almost instinctually, you find yourself crawling on top of him, lining yourself up to enter through his backdoor.

You poke at his entrance, and can feel it all. The magical energy of everything. The substance. His ass. This entire encounter.

You push inside.

Amador moans beneath you. You push even further inside.

You begin to find a rhythm as you start going in and out, in and out, pushing further and further inside with every thrust.

And then, you feel a poking at your own hole.

You look back to see Aurelio, fingers coated, preparing to push them inside of you.

“Don’t let me stop you,” he smiles, “Just keep on going, and I’ll make the experience even better.”

So, you do.

You turn back and continue to thrust into the moaning boy below you.

Aurelio pushes into you, and you feel as the finger searches around inside of you, soon being added by another.

You thrust more and more into Amador, seeming to find no end to his deep, tight hole.

Finally, your hips slap against him as you are fully seated inside, and just as you do, Aurelio’s fingers leave you, and his hands wrap around your waist.

“And now, let it all commence.”

Aurelio pokes against you.

You start to thrust in and out of Amador again.

Aurelio pokes inside of you, and you feel yourself being filled up as he starts to thrust into you.

Now, every movement you make counts. You move forward into Amador. You move back onto Aurelio.

You are surrounded by them. Engulfed by them. Taken by them from both ends.

It’s all so much to bare. You listen as you hear Amador’s moans, Aurelio’s pants, fleshing slapping against flesh, and feel everything that they give you.

And soon, you give in.

Ecstasy takes you over, and you fall marvelously over the edge.

And, all you can smell is that of cum, flesh, and the tropical breeze.

Chapter Text

“What do you two want to be when you grow up?” Mami asked them one day when she was bathing them.

“I don’t know,” the twins answered simultaneously.

Mara and Moro always agreed on everything. They agreed on what they wanted to eat, they agreed on where they wanted to sleep, they agreed on which of their friends were the most fun to play with, they agreed that the Isla Del Mar was the most fun place in the world and that they wouldn’t want to live anywhere else. They had apparently even agreed on when to be born—though neither of them could remember that.

They agreed on everything.

And right now, they both agreed that they had no idea what they wanted to be when they grew up.

“I think I want to be something that will give me enough money to live nicely,” Mara stated as she washed her long wavy hair.

“Yeah,” Moro agreed as he washed his short wavy hair, “And, I want to be something that people will like me for, and be happy with.”

“Yeah.”

Mami smiled as she washed both their backs, “Those are both very good intentions, children, and they give you a lot of options,” she explained, “You can be almost anything you put your minds to. Farmers, smiths, servants—.”

“Matilda!” Papi called, “Finish up with the kids! We have to be back at the brothel before midday!”

“I’ll be ready, Diego, wait up for me!” Mami called back. She got back to washing the twins.

“Hey, I know!” Moro stated suddenly, “We can be courtesans!”

“Hey, yeah!” Mara beamed, “Just like you and Papi!”

Mami and Papi were both courtesans, which meant that they worked in a place called a brothel and made money by doing stuff with people in bed. It was apparently one of the most respected jobs on the Isla.

Mami smiled, “Well, you two are a little too young to be considering that as a line of work, but,” she shrugged, “maybe someday.”

“When we’re old, like you?”

Mami glared at Moro.

“...Don’t make me take off my sandal, boy.”

The twins giggled.

“Well, whatever we choose,” Mara declared, “we’re going to do whatever it is together!”

“Yes!” Moro smiled, “Twins together!”

“Forever and ever!”

Mara splashed Moro. Moro splashed her back. They continued to splash and giggle, knowing full well that they would always be together.

***

Years passed by as the twins started to grow, and when they hit puberty, they noticed how their bodies changed, and how certain parts of themselves were suddenly a lot more fun to touch, and how much fun it suddenly was to look at certain parts of their friends.

They started to play new games with the other children in their village. Games that involved kissing, and games that involved touching. They kissed friends’s lips and exchanged touches between legs, and these quickly became the twins’s new favorite games. One girl had even put her mouth on Moro’s pipí. That had been a lot of fun!

One game that they had made for each other was to figure out which they liked better, girls or boys, and both of them had come back with the declarations that they liked them both the same.

It was at this point that they finally fully understood what it meant to be courtesans, and after these experiences, they both decided that, yes, they did indeed want to be courtesans.

The twins leaned against a palm tree panting, out of breath from a kissing contest with their friends.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” Mara sighed.

Moro snorted, “Is that a bad thing?”

“No,” she chuckled, “It’ll certainly award us a life full of pleasure, that’s for sure.”

“True,” he sighed.

They stood in silence for a moment, just enjoying the view they had of their bustling village down the hill. A breeze blew around them, bringing with it the smell of sweet fruit trees.

They turned when they heard someone gasp in pleasure deeper into the forest, where a couple of their older and more experienced friends had decided to do a lot more than kiss and touch.

“Do you think it’ll be fun?” Moro asked, “The sex, I mean. Real sex.”

“What we do now is fun,” Mara stated, “If sex is better than all that, it must truly be a God-sent gift.”

“Who do you think you’ll have sex with your first time? Someone we know? A stranger?”

“I don’t know. There are so many options. What about you?”

“I don’t know either.”

All of their friends were pretty cute, but they’d seen a good number of attractive people pass through their village every now and then. Maybe one day, one or both of them would end up doing it with a ravishing traveler.

“Do you think it’ll hurt?” Mara asked.

Moro shrugged, “I think it depends on what we do. And, who we do it with. Maybe—.”

“Knights!” Someone shouted, “Lord Loyola’s knights! Look! Here they come!”

Knights?

Here?

The twins shared a look with each other. Then, they dashed back down to the village to get a look at the valiant warriors.

They squeezed through the crowd, pushing past this and that, until they reached the front and watched the spectacle before them.

Men and women rode through the street on great big horses. The twins had seen knights before, but never so many, and none as elegant as these. They wore silvery armor with hints of Loyola blue, and they were armed with great weapons that made them each look like they were ready to take on an army.

They smiled and waved to the people around them, blowing kisses and flexing muscles, making such a tantalizing display that it made Moro’s pipí harden, and Mara’s papaya dampen.

The twins looked at each other, and instantly knew that they were thinking the same thing.

They didn’t want to be courtesans anymore.

They had a much better idea in mind.

***

“We want to be knights!”

Mami, who was on her break at the brothel, looked at them in confusion.

“Knights, you say? Now, that’s a sudden change of pace.”

“We’ve changed our minds. We want to be knights, and we want to serve the Kingdom to the best of our abilities.”

Mami smirked at them, “Really?... Do you want to serve the Kingdom, or do you want to meet cute girls and boys?”

They both smiled bashfully.

Mami chuckled. Then, she sighed, “Ay. I don’t know, children. Knighthood isn’t exactly free of charge...”

“We can work it off,” Moro declared, “We can help around the village and whatnot. And, we can be servants in the brothel too!”

Mami shrugged thoughtfully, “Well—.”

“Yeah! And, if that isn’t enough, then you and Papi can work at the brothel overtime,” Mara stated, “It shouldn’t be that hard. All you do is lay on your back and get used like a toy.”

Mami glared at her, “What did you say!?”

She pulled off her sandal.

“Ahh! Run!”

The twins ran away giggling as Mami chased them.

They may have been running now, but someday that would be the ones giving chase to troublemakers.

They were determined now.

They were going to be knights.

***

They’d done it!

It had taken them over a year, but they’d finally done it!

They’d worked their skins off—and made sure that their parents did the same—and they’d finally managed to raise enough money to send them off to train as knights!

And, just in time too. Apparently, there was some sort of conflict brewing on the mainland, and if the mainland was in a conflict, the Isla wouldn’t be too far behind in joining them.

Which meant that they’d need all the knights they could get!

After a long farewell from their parents and the village, the twins then journeyed to Puerto Loyola, where they would begin training in the Lord’s castle with the other new recruits.

The port city was a lot more crowded than their village, but that didn’t stop it from being a sight to behold. Everywhere they looked, there were perfectly-cobbled roads and big, pretty buildings. Even the slums looked pretty—even if they didn’t smell like it. It was all so much to take in.

And when they reached the castle, they found it to be even fancier than the rest of the entire city!

The structure was so lavish, the grounds were so spacious, and it seemed like everywhere they looked, there was an important person doing something.

They guessed that was to be expected in a Lord’s castle.

And just as they’d hoped, even the barracks had some great, surprisingly-decent living conditions. It wouldn’t hurt to be a bit more spacious, but the twins were used to cramped spaces, so it wasn’t much of a problem.

The people were pretty nice too. The other knights and squires and servants were all really friendly. The more important, snooty ones were a bit full of themselves, but even they were fairly talkative with the rest of them.

Right away, everything seemed like it was going to work out just fine.

The only thing that really had the twins scratching their heads were the rumors that they’d been hearing, specifically the ones surrounding Maria Bello, the late Lady Loyola.

Apparently many years ago, Lord Loyola had had her taken to the mainland, accused her of adultery, and had her executed.

That story didn’t really make sense though. It made sense that the Lord would have to have her executed for adultery on the sexually-repressed mainland, but it didn’t really make sense that he would take such drastic measures against his own wife over one little affair. And apparently, the twins weren’t the only ones to question these suspicious events.

They heard many rumors about what could have actually been the real reason for her death. The knights said that she was going to expose some deep dark secrets about her husband, and he’d had to silence her before she could ruin him. The servants said that she was a part of a conspiracy, and that her masters had had her killed in retaliation when she went rogue. And, the aristocrats said that she had been a madwoman who’d had to be framed for a believable crime, to be stopped by any means necessary before she’d gotten a lot of innocents hurt.

No one knew the real truth, and if they did, they didn’t speak it. All anyone could agree on was that she had been a warrior for progress and change, so much so that it had been scary to some and annoying to others, and that she and her husband loved to travel, often going on trips out to sea together and coming back with vast arrays of foreign spices, jewelry, and flowers.

But, none of that mattered now.

That was all in the past, and the twins were here to make their own future.

The twins stood in the castle courtyard with the other new recruits for a formal induction, conversing with and getting to know their peers, when a senior knight at the front called for silence.

A banner with the Loyola sigil hung above the great doors to the main structure. A silver toucan on a dark blue background. And from under it, their Lord emerged.

He was a handsome man with a very distinguishable nose. He smiled warmly and waved his hands out to his new generation of guardians below.

“Young masters and mistresses. Welcome to the Loyola Household. I am Lord Valerio Loyola, and it is my honor to have your services.”

***

After the induction, all of the new recruits were formally named as squires of House Loyola, and the twins couldn’t have possibly been prouder.

Over the next several days and weeks, they begun to familiarize themselves with the household and started their knightly training. They picked up with their new roles quickly, beginning to master themselves with such fine weapons as the blade, spear, and bow.

One day, the twins were training with practice swords, dueling against each other to hone their new skills.

“Ay!” Mara exclaimed as Moro hit her hand, making her drop the sword.

“You need to work on your form.”

“And, you need to work on your stance!” She retorted, kicking at him and causing him to jump away.

“I’ll work on my stance when you’re better with your form!”

“That’s not how it works, Moro.”

“Well, whatever. I think we can fix our problems with just a bit more practice. It shouldn’t be too hard,” he tried to put his feet in the right position, “We’ll both get better at it together.”

Mara smiled, “Twins together.”

“Forever and ever,” Moro smiled back.

“What an adorable saying.”

The twins fell into a practiced salute as they were approached, “Sir Victor!”

Sir Victor Loyola came over to them. Like his father, Sir Victor was quite handsome—even more so in the young adolescent eyes of the twins—with a very distinguishable, cute nose.

“At ease,” he nodded with a handsome smile, “It’s that time of the month.”

Mara gasped, “Is it!?”

She covered her crotch.

Sir Victor chuckled, “Hopefully not that time. No, I’m talking about taxes. It’s that time of the month to collect.”

“...Oh,” Mara blushed as she moved her hands away.

Moro wondered out loud, “Do squires pay taxes?”

“Some do, but not ones serving directly under the banner, so you two are off the hook,” Sir Victor explained, “But, as we do serve under the banner, it becomes our responsibility to collect the tax of the region for our liege. Report to your commander tomorrow morning for assignment.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good. Dismissed.”

The twins saluted, then went back into training.

“Okay, let’s try that again.”

They started to duel. They both got a good few hits and blocks in before...

“Ay, Santiago!” Mara dropped her sword again.

Moro shook his head, “You need to work on your form.”

“You need to work on your stance!”

“Mara!”

“Moro!”

“Alright. Hold on.”

The twins looked at Sir Victor.

They hadn’t even noticed that he was still there.

He picked up the sword and handed it back to Mara, “Your brother’s right, you do need to work on your form. First off, you’re not holding the sword correctly. Here, let me show you.”

He got behind her.

Mara’s breath stopped as he wrapped his arms around her, feeling his closeness as he put his hands over hers and showed her how to fix it.

“There,” he let her go, “Now, you try.”

Mara remembered to breathe.

Then, she lifted her sword and began to attack her brother, much more fluidly this time.

“OOF—!” Moro grunted as he was knocked off his feet. Mara stood triumphantly over him.

Sir Victor chuckled, “And, your sister’s right. You do need to work on your stance.”

He clasped his hand firmly, and Moro gasped when he was hauled right back onto his feet.

“Here. Like this.”

Moro felt heat rise inside of him as Sir Victor stepped between his legs, standing so close to him as he spread them out in the right positions.

“There,” he stepped back, “Now, go again.”

Moro blinked a few times.

Then, he raised his sword and went after his sister.

This time, neither of them showed any signs of weakness.

“Perfect,” Sir Victor nodded, “Much better. Keep at it, squires.”

He turned and left.

Once he was away, the twins ceased their duel and watched his retreating form. They turned and looked at each other.

And then, they both burst into fits of giggles.

“That was so intense!”

“I know! He’s so cute!”

“Yeah! And, his nose!”

“We’re so pathetic!”

They giggled with each other, then sighed.

They looked over at him, talking to another group of squires. At him in his silver armor. At his broad shoulders, and his arms, and his cute, cute face.

They both started to get aroused when they begun to imagine what was underneath that silver belt.

“Mmm,” Mara flexed, “I wouldn’t mind learning how to hold his sword.”

Moro chuckled, “Me neither.”

They admired him for a few more seconds, then turned back to each other and raised their weapons.

“Okay, let’s try again. Hit me.”

***

After collecting tax from a miller by the river, Mara continued on her route.

This was the easiest task she had ever been given!

She had been given a list of landowners, their average income, their worth, and debts, and all she had to do was collect one coin for every ten that they made in the past month. And so far, everyone had been very cooperative!...

...And honestly, it was kind of boring.

There was no action. No excitement. No... nothing.

She was half hoping that the next landowner would try to make trouble so she could have an excuse to unsheathe her sword.

She hadn’t spent all that time training just to look good after all.

Ugh.

She rode further down the dirt road, yawning from the exhaustion of being at this all morning.

She felt the sudden urge to pee. She stopped her horse and dismounted, unbuckling her belt as she went into the bushes beside the road to relieve herself.

Her poor pussy, she thought as she went.

She was almost worried that if she kept riding on that horse, her hymen was going to break before ever even coming close to being either penetrated by a boy’s dick or roughed up by another girl’s pussy.

Or, maybe even doing something intense with a boy or girl’s ass.

Or hell, maybe she could strap on a wooden dick and penetrate someone herself. Girl’s pussy, girl’s ass, boy’s ass, whatever. Or, maybe even just grinding against a boy’s dick.

She was open to ideas.

She—.

“UNG—!”

Mara looked up as she heard what sounded like a loud cry being cut off.

She turned and listened.

She could hear laughter coming from the trees.

Rowdy laughter.

And, what sounded like... struggling.

“STOP—!” A feminine voice shrieked before once again being cut off.

The laughter grew louder.

Now, Mara knew something was off.

She finished doing her business, pulled up her leggings and buckled up, then snuck slowly further into the tree line, hand tight on the hilt of her blade.

She crept through the trees, being careful not to step on any sticks or brush against any low branches.

Finally, the noises grew louder in front of her, and she could see movement up ahead. She crept as fast as she could, then hid behind a bush, looking to see what was going on.

In the clearing ahead, there was a group of raggedy-looking people sitting and standing in a circle, with vicious looks of excitement on their faces...

...And in between them, there was a girl being thrown around.

“Stop it!” She protested as she struggled out of one’s grip, only to be grabbed by another. One of them grabbed the hem of her gown...

RIP

Mara had to cover her mouth to hold back a gasp as their laughter roared.

This girl looked like they’d been roughing her up for a while.

She was shoved forward, stumbling until she was snatched again and pulled into the lap of a scary-looking woman.

She grabbed her face, “You know, I’m almost glad Adana decided to disobey us. If she hadn’t, we wouldn’t be spending all of this precious time getting to know your cute little face, would we?”

The girl yanked her face back.

“Don’t touch me, you filthy bitch!”

Everyone howled at that.

The woman grabbed her face back, “Now, that just hurt. Looks like I’m really gonna have to teach you a lesson now.”

“Fuck you!”

She smiled deviously.

“No... fuck you.”

She reached into the girl’s ripped gown, causing her to gasp. Her hand started to slide up her thigh...

Oh hell no!

In an instant, Mara unsheathed her blade and bounced out of the bushes.

Everyone bounced back in surprise.

Mara pointed her blade, “Let her go! Now!”

Everyone stared at her...

...

...

...

“...BAH-HAHAHAHAHA!!!”

All of the other brigands laughed with the woman.

“You clearly don’t have an eye for numbers, girl,” she chuckled, “There’s only one of you, and a whole lot of us.”

“I am trained in the arts of war by the most powerful knights in the region!” Mara declared, “You’ll be lucky if any of you leave here alive!”

“Fuck you and your knights,” the woman narrowed her eyes, “You, little madam, made your last mistake coming here.”

“Then, come and do something about it, gutter filth!”

Everyone oohed.

The woman shot up. She grabbed a blade that looked as raggedy as her. The others started to grab other rudimentary weapons.

She pointed her blade at Mara, “I’m gonna shove that entire sword up your pussy, girl!”

Mara swung her blade.

“Try me!”

The brigands started to circle her. Mara kept her eyes open for any movement...

“...RAHH!!!”

The woman jumped forward and slashed at her. Mara blocked it.

Another swung at her.

Then, another.

Soon, she was being attacked on all sides, just barely staying on her feet.

CLANG

Suddenly, her sword was knocked from her hand.

She stood still in fright, now surrounded and defenseless.

The woman laughed as she dropped her weapon and marched forward.

Mara tried to back away, but she grabbed her, pulling her forward to look straight into her menacing eyes.

“Ooh, little girl,” she laughed evilly, “You’re gonna get fucked into oblivion before you die!”

She continued to pull her in. Mara just stood there struggling, staring into her evil eyes...

...

...

...

...Then, she held her head back, and then with all her might, surged it forward.

CLONK

“AAH—!” The woman let her go.

Mara groaned as her head started pounding, but she didn’t miss a beat.

She swiped her sword back up from the ground and slashed it forward.

SLICE

“ULK—!”

Everyone in the clearing stood dead still.

The woman lifted a hand up to her neck and touched the blood that started to seep from there.

Then, she fell to the ground with a thud.

Everyone was still in shock, so she kept going.

She turned to the closest brigand and stabbed. Then, pulled out and slashed at another.

The rest turned tail and ran.

Finally, Mara had won.

She groaned again and grabbed her pounding head.

The girl that she’d saved rushed forward and stared at her.

“God...” she exclaimed, “That... That was just... I can’t believe you did that! All by yourself! That was amazing!”

Mara smiled painfully as she sheathed her sword, “Comes with the job. What’s your name?”

“I’m Aura. My grandmother is a blacksmith in a village near here,” she looked back at the retreating figures of the brigands, “They came demanding weapons. When she wouldn’t give them to them... They took me instead.”

“Mm,” Mara shook her head, “She must be worried sick.”

“Definitely...”

“Then, we should definitely get you back to her.”

Mara ignored her pounding head and stood in an attentive manner.

“Would you care for a knightly escort, fair madam?”

Aura smiled at her. It was a smile that Mara could only describe as pure admiration.

“Thank you, madam knight.”

***

This was by far the easiest and most boring job Moro had ever done in his life.

All he did was go to people’s doors and collect coins.

No action, no excitement, no nothing.

He was starting to wonder why he did all that training at the castle if all his duties were ever going to be were to collect coins and stuff like that. Surely there had to be more to knighthood than... this.

Ugh.

He had to pee. He stopped his horse, then dismounted and unbuckled his belt, going over to the river beside the road to go.

His poor dick, he thought as he went.

If he kept on riding like this, it was gonna fall off.

He was gonna lose it before it ever even got to know the pleasure of penetrating a girl’s pussy or a boy’s ass.

Or, a girl’s ass, whatever.

Or, grinding against another boy’s dick.

Or hell, maybe Moro would be the one getting penetrated in the ass by another boy’s dick himself.

Or, grinding against or getting penetrated by a girl wearing a wooden dick.

He didn’t care.

He—.

“NO!!!”

He looked up as he heard someone shout.

He turned and listened.

“MAMI!!!” Someone shrieked.

“BACK!!! I SAID BACK!!!” A woman’s voice shouted, “HEY!!!”

“AAH!!!”

Okay, that definitely sounded threatening.

Something was wrong.

He finished relieving himself, put himself away and buckled up, then snuck slowly further down the road, hand stuck to the hilt of his blade.

A ways ahead of him, he saw what appeared to be farmland. Crops and whatnot. He started to hear the sounds of more people too. Just up ahead, around the bend.

And, they didn’t sound friendly.

Slowly, he crept up behind the last tree on the bend, and peered over.

There was a group of dirty-looking people trying to drag away a boy.

“No!” The boy struggled, “Let me go! Mami! Mami, help me! HELP!!!”

“Shut it!” The man dragging him commanded.

He shoved the boy forward, the group quickly surrounding him and grabbing him.

RIP RIP

Moro gasped as they started to tear up the boy’s clothes.

He couldn’t let this happen, he had to do something!

He started to unsheathe his sword.

“DAH—!”

CRUNCH

But then, he jumped back as a pitchfork soared through the air and into an attacker’s head.

A woman—the farmer by the look of her—rushed forward and pulled the boy from their arms, shielding him behind her.

“Stay behind me, Julio.”

She retrieved the pitchfork with a sickly gurgle from her victim’s skull.

“The next time one of you touches my son is the last time you will walk this earth! Now—GET OFF MY LAND!!!”

She spun the tool in a wide circle, performing so many impressive moves that one might have mistaken her for a warrior with a spear rather than a farmer with a pitchfork.

The attackers jumped back to avoid her swings. The man that had dragged the boy stepped forward.

“Just give up already, Jordana. You’re outnumbered.”

“And, you,” she swung at him, “are outmatched!”

This woman, Jordana, was impressive.

Moro looked at the boy, cowering behind his mother in his ripped clothes.

He looked so scared.

Just looking at his scared face made Moro’s heart hurt.

The man held up his hands, “This could have been avoided, Jordana. If you had just listened, we would have left you and little Julio in peace.”

“You would have left us to starve, bastard!” She spat, “I will be damned before I give into threats from the likes of you!“

The man nodded, “So, we do this the hard way.”

“Go fuck yourself!”

He snorted, “I would if I could. But, I’ve got a better idea... Get the boy!”

“AAH!!!” The boy screamed as he was yanked away.

“EY!!!”

Jordana tried to swing her pitchfork, but two of the attackers grabbed it.

The boy was thrown forward into the man’s arms.

The man smiled evilly as he restrained him, “Hello there.”

He pushed the whimpering boy to the ground, and grabbed roughly onto the lacings of his pants.

Oh no!

No way in hell!

Moro ran out from his hiding spot, unsheathing his sword, and jumped forward.

CLONK

“UNH—!”

He kicked the man right in the head, sending him rolling away.

Everyone stopped in the middle of their acts to stare at him.

The boy on the ground stared up at him in awe.

Jordana smiled.

She yanked back her pitchfork, “Never thought I’d see the day where I was happy the tax collector came.”

Moro nodded.

He waved his sword at the attackers as Jordana made her way over to them.

They made a defensive circle surrounding Jordana’s son, pointing their respective weapons as they walked to make sure that the attackers kept their distance.

“If any of you have any sense,” Moro warned, “you will leave now, before anyone else has to get hurt.”

The man stood up shakily, his head bleeding.

Moro and Jordana looked at him.

He shook his head.

“Fuck you, squire.”

Moro and Jordana looked at each other.

They nodded.

Then, they attacked.

Moro swung left and right, knocking back his opponents as they charged at him.

But soon, he was overwhelmed. Enemies at all angles as he tried desperately to maintain his hold.

“AAH—!”

Moro cried in pain as he was tripped off his feet, falling and twisting his leg.

The man jumped on top of him.

Moro gasped, struggling to get him off, but to no avail.

“Fucking squire,” he sneered, “You should have learned to stay out of other people’s business. Now, you’re gonna take so much cock it’ll kill you before I do!”

Moro tried to struggle, seeming to find no way out as the man sneered down at him...

...

...

...

...Then, he put all the pressure he had left into his leg and kicked up as hard as he could.

CRACK

“ARGH—!”

Moro winced in pain at the added beating to his leg, but took the opportunity it had given him.

He shoved the man off, reached up and retrieved his sword, then turned with all of his body and stabbed down.

CRUNCH

“URGH—!”

The man shakily stared up wide-eyed at the sword going through his chest.

Then, his head fell back with a thud.

Moro collapsed back onto the ground, just as the last of the attackers started to run away.

“NEXT TIME,” Jordana shouted after them, “NO SURVIVORS!!!”

Moro sighed in relief.

It was over.

They’d won.

Jordana and her son ran over to him.

“Hah!” Jordana smiled as they propped him up, “We were damn lucky you came by when you did! What’s your name, little warrior?”

“Moro,” he introduced, “Squire Moro.”

“Jordana,” she introduced properly, “And, my son, Julio. Pleasure to be making acquaintance.”

“Mutual,” Moro nodded, “You held your own pretty good back there. Were you ever trained in war?”

Jordana snorted, “Nah. Just a farmer and an overprotective mother. You weren’t so bad yourself.”

“You were amazing!” Julio beamed at him, “You just came out of nowhere and, and, and, and the way you just started beating them up, and just, just... WOW!!!”

Julio was smiling at him so much it looked like his face might burst.

Moro smiled, “Just doing my job.”

Then, he winced as he put pressure on his twisted leg.

“Can you walk?”

“I’ll manage.”

“That’s a no, then,” Jordana shook her head, “Right then, that settles it, you’re staying with us tonight. Don’t know where you’ll sleep though, we don’t exactly have much room...”

“Oh,” Moro shook his head, “No, I—.”

“He can sleep in the barn,” Julio suggested, “It’s cozy enough, and it won’t be a cold night.”

“No really, I—.”

“That’s an excellent idea,” Jordana nodded, “I’ll set you up with some extra blankets.”

“No. Really, thank you, but,” Moro shook his head, “I don’t want to intrude.”

“Intrude!?” She cackled, “Hah! After what happened just now!? You can stay as long as you like!”

“I really shouldn’t...”

“You really should,” she smiled, “I may not be your commander, but respectfully, that is an order.”

Moro opened his mouth to protest, found that he couldn’t, then laughed and shrugged.

“Okay then.”

***

“Ay! Aura!”

Mara stood back as the giant old woman wrapped Aura in a tight hug.

Aura groaned as she was crushed, “I’m fine, Mama Adana.”

Adana pulled back and brushed at her granddaughter’s hair, “My sweet little girl! You’re safe! You’re unhurt! Are you unhurt!? What did those bastards do to you!?”

“I am unhurt, Mama Adana,” she turned and smiled, “We have Squire Mara to thank for that.”

Adana let her go, then turned and marched over to Mara. Mara almost fell back as this big woman towered over her.

Then, Adana grabbed her and kissed all over her face.

“Madam squire! Thank you from the bottom of my heart! Thank you for saving my dear granddaughter!”

Mara’s face heated up, “Just my duty as a knight of the realm.”

“You’ve no idea what you’ve done for me!” Adana declared, “None! I cannot possibly repay you enough!”

“You could,” Mara shrugged, “pay your taxes.”

The old woman snorted, “Right. Of course. That makes sense. It is that time of the month.”

Aura gasped and covered her crotch, “Is it!?”

Adana chuckled.

Mara smiled. Then, she groaned again when the pounding returned.

“What is the matter?”

“It’s nothing,” Mara told her, “Just a headache.”

“From butting a woman in the face,” Aura giggled.

Adana lifted Mara’s chin and looked at her.

“Mm,” she grunted, “Nothing a good night’s rest won’t help. I have an extra bed in the forge. You can sleep there.”

“Oh,” Mara shook her head, “I can’t stay the night.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Adana stated, “In your condition, you’re not going anywhere. Consider it an order, little squire.”

Mara snorted, then shrugged, “Alright.”

“Good,” Adana patted her shoulder, “In the meantime, you can wash up in the river. It’ll help. Aura, you too, you’re a mess. Take her with you. I’ll call you both in at sundown for supper.”

“Yes, Mama Adana.”

Mara followed Aura out to the back of the village, where a blue river flowed along.

Mara unstrapped out of her armor as gently as she could, then started on her underclothes.

After she took off her undershirt, she turned to see Aura, staring at her as she folded up her ruined gown.

Mara smiled at her. She smiled back in an almost bashful way.

After they’d stripped out of all of their clothing, the two of them waded into the river.

Mara began to wash herself off, sighing as the coolness of the water soothed her aching forehead.

She looked over at Aura, and slowed as she saw her, watched her naked form bathing.

She winced as she dabbed a cloth at a scratch on her arm. It looked like it must really hurt.

“Here,” Mara offered, “Let me.”

Aura turned to her with a look of surprise. Then, she nodded shyly as she handed the cloth over to her.

Mara took it, wading over until she stood right in front of her. She noticed Aura’s breath stop.

She dabbed lightly at the scratch, lighter still when Aura winced again, but eventually she relaxed.

Mara felt her eyes on her.

She finished washing off the scratch, then started to do her whole arm.

Then, her shoulder.

The top of her chest.

Mara felt Aura’s hand brush her side.

Mara lifted both hands now and started to wash all over Aura.

Her sides.

Her stomach.

Aura’s hands were exploring her body now too.

When Mara got to her breasts, their bodies began to inch closer.

Closer.

Closer.

And when their lips connected, Mara slid her hand down underneath the waves and up into the warm entrance to Aura’s body.

Wet, but not from the water.

***

Moro ate supper with Jordana and Julio, and all throughout the meal, Julio wouldn’t stop smiling at him.

Moro supposed he couldn’t blame him. If he’d gotten rescued like that, he would have been smiling at that person a lot too.

But still, the way Julio had been smiling at him seemed like it was more than just gratitude. It just seemed to have a little bit of something else to it.

Just a hint of... desire.

And honestly...

...He couldn’t blame him for that either.

When he got into the barn, he was pretty much exhausted. He undressed into his undergarments, and then crawled into the blankets that Jordana had put out for him. In no time at all, he started to drift to sleep...

CREAK

Moro looked up at the sound of the heavy barn door opening.

Julio was there, slipping inside with what appeared to be a cup in his hand.

“Sorry,” he smiled, “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

Moro sat up, “No, it’s fine. You need something?”

“Yeah... I do.”

He was still smiling widely. He walked over to Moro and offered him the cup.

“It’s hot cacao,” he stated as he sat next to him, “It probably won’t help with the healing, but it always makes me feel better.”

Moro smiled, “Well, that’s very nice of you. Thank you, Julio.”

“Of course.”

He accepted the cup and took a sip, and since it was good, downed more than half of it in one go. He gave the last bit back to Julio, who happily drank up the rest.

Moro stretched to ease his muscles.

When he did, he noticed Julio staring at his chest.

“Your muscles...”

Moro spread his arms to give him a better look, “You like them?”

“Yeah...”

He lifted a finger.

“Can I... Can I touch them?”

Moro smiled, “Sure.”

Julio scooted closer and pushed his hand forward.

He touched just above his nipple. Then, he ran his hand across the top of his chest.

His other hand came up to lightly squeeze his arm, and Moro noticed that it was suddenly very hot in this barn.

Julio’s hands continued to explore him, and then he seemed to scoot closer and closer, as his hands got lower...

...And, when their lips touched, Moro felt a hand on his dick.

Moro wrapped his arms around him and pulled him in, then pushed him down into the blankets.

Moro kissed him again as he crawled on top of him and reached down to unlace his pants...

***

“Hey, guess what!” Mara beamed, “I’ve had sex!”

Moro paused, “...I was just about to say the same thing!”

“Really!?”

“Yeah!”

The twins squealed and hugged each other.

“Okay, tell me everything!” Mara demanded, “Who was it!? How was it!?”

“A farmer’s son named Julio, and it was amazing! Okay, now you! Go!”

“A blacksmith’s granddaughter named Aura, and it was amazing!” She smiled happily, “It happened after I saved her from a band of brigands.”

“Hey! Me too!”

“Hah! We’re heroes!”

“And, we got the best possible rewards for it!”

The twins giggled happily with each other.

Mara sighed, “It really was amazing. For me, it happened in the middle of a river. What about you?”

Moro blushed, “Umm... the middle of a barn.”

Mara smirked, “Typical.”

“Shut up!”

Mara chuckled at her brother’s expense. Then, her expression saddened.

“But... it almost didn’t work out at all. When I was fighting the brigands, they were able to knock my sword from my hand. I guess I still need to work on my form.”

Moro nodded slowly, “Yeah... When I was fighting mine, they were able to knock me off my feet. I guess I still need to work on my stance.”

Mara smiled, “Well, at least everything did work out okay.”

“Better than okay!”

“Yeah,” Mara giggled, “And, we can get better together.”

“Yeah. Because, we’ll always have each other’s backs.”

“Right!”

The twins clasped hands, knowing full well that whatever happened, whatever struggles, up and downs either of them went through, they would always be there for each other forever.

“Twins together!”

“Forever and ever!”

Chapter Text

Cicero liked the Rivera siblings.

They had been friends since they were small children. Him and Berta and Blanco. For as long as Cicero could remember.

He liked Berta. She had always been nice to him. She had always been nice to everybody. For as long as he’d known her, she had been the most helpful, the most caring, and just the most fun person that Cicero had ever known. She had to be one of the friendliest people in the world.

And, Blanco, there weren’t words to describe how much he liked Blanco. Blanco was a year younger than him and Berta. Everywhere him and Berta went, Blanco would always follow like a small pet. He had to be one of the most innocent people in existence, and Cicero enjoyed his company immensely, in fact he enjoyed it so much that he always felt a funny tickling in his belly every time that he was near him. He liked him so much.

Cicero liked them both very much.

And now that they were homeless, moneyless, and maybe even near friendless, Cicero was there to support them...

...Or, at least to support them however much a fourteen-year-old knight’s squire with other duties could.

It was very nice of Victor—Lord Victor—to let them stay in the manor after he had inherited it from their sister, and it was very nice of the Lady Regent Carina to step in as a sort of mother figure for them.

But, even they could only do so much. Victor may have inherited all of their lands and titles, but Berta still inherited her sister’s name. She was Lady Rivera now. A fourteen-year-old Lady with nothing but a name. And yet, she somehow still had lots overwhelming duties. And, if Cicero could help her and Blanco in any way, then he fully intended to do it.

So right now, that involved sitting in an office in the Evangelio manor and helping Berta as she wrote a bunch of letters.

Berta groaned as she sat back in her chair, “If I have to write another word, I swear I’ll jump into the Río and drown myself.”

Cicero put down the paper, “Thankfully, that was the last on the list.”

“Oh, thank God and magic. I thought I was going to die with this feather in my hand.”

Cicero had thought so too, and he wasn’t even the one writing letters.

Berta poured pink wax over the finished letter and sealed it with the Rivera goldfish that used to line the walls of this castle before the Evangelio cat with the sword. Then, she handed it to her brother.

“Could you take this to the rookery, Blanco?” She requested, “Have it sent to Castle Bolivar.”

“Okay,” he took the letter. Then, he turned and smiled bashfully, “Thanks for helping us, Cicero.”

Cicero nodded, “Sure. Anything for you guys.”

Blanco fingered the carving of an eye that Victor had given him, which he now wore on a bronze chain that the Lady Regent had given him around his neck. Blanco always fingered that carving whenever he was feeling shy.

Which was pretty much every time he talked to Cicero.

“I-I really appreciate you staying to help us all the time,” he stated, “I... I like spending time with you.”

Cicero felt the funny tickle again, accompanied by a fiery feeling that spread all over his cheeks and ears.

He smiled, “I like spending time with you too.”

The tanned complexion of Blanco’s face quickly started to turn rosy red.

“...I-I should take this to the rookery.”

“O-okay,” Cicero nodded so hard that it made him dizzy, “Um, bye.”

“Bye... OOP—!”

Cicero jumped to catch him, but Blanco stabilized himself. He smiled and nodded thankfully, then continued to shuffle out of the room.

He had been getting better at not tripping as he walked—.

“EEP—!”

Cicero caught him.

...But, he could still use some work.

Blanco turned and smiled shyly at him.

“Heh... Thank you.”

Cicero nodded, “Of course.”

Cicero felt the tickle in his belly and the heat in his face as he came to the full realization of how close they were, of how his hands were wrapped around him. He could feel his body heat. His heart beating rapidly within his warm, fleshy chest.

He let him go. Blanco smiled at him one last time, then turned and left.

And, Cicero couldn’t help but watch him go.

He didn’t know why, but he liked Blanco a lot. Really, really a lot. He liked everything about him. His company, his personality, and his appearance, good God, did he like his appearance. He liked how he was so little and short, which seemed to be a trait that ran in the Rivera family. He liked his naturally tan skin, his brown hair and eyes, all more Rivera family traits.

And, his butt. He had a butt that looked so round and fleshy that God Himself couldn’t have been blamed if he had to take time off to admire his work of perfection. Cicero knew how odd it was to think that, but he couldn’t help it, he really liked Blanco’s butt. He really wanted to touch his butt. He really—.

Cicero was pulled from his thoughts when he heard Berta sigh.

He turned back to her. She was holding two more letters in her hands.

“More to send?” Cicero asked.

She shook her head sadly, “No. I just found them in the drawer. They’re... Well, look at them.”

She offered them to him over the desk. Cicero took them and looked at them—.

...Oh.

They were from her parents.

The late Lord and Lady Rivera.

Cicero looked at the first letter...

***

Brenda,

I write to you to inform you of how sorry your mother and I are that we have missed your thirteenth birthday. And, it is with a heavy heart that I must inform you that our trip is far from over. I wish that I could provide you with more details, but doing so would only endanger you. Perhaps when you are older.

But, do not fret, my daughter. As you have now bloomed into adolescence, you are now old enough to lady over the Río on your own. You may never be able to mother children of your own, but you are my heiress, and Berta and her heirs shall be yours. House Rivera has never been a line of strong leaders, but I know that you will be a good one.

I name you my regent in my absence, and someday you too shall be a liege in your own right.

We will reunite someday, Brenda, I promise you.

Someday.

‘Follow the light!’

Signed,
Bartolomé of House Rivera
Lord of the Río De La Luz

***

Cicero couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips.

He couldn’t even imagine what Lady Brenda must have felt when she’d read this all those years ago. It must have been really sad.

Especially considering what happened after...

Cicero turned and read the other letter...

***

Brenda,

This message is for you, and you alone.

Let me begin this letter with the unfortunate confession that, no, we are not returning home. In fact, I am beginning to question if we ever will.

Our journey now takes us south and then east across the Mar Salvaje, to the Armayan region of Acueria, where your dear relatives in House Riera rule. Your father hopes that Princess Babieca will aid us, though I do not know if shared ancestry will be enough to sway her to help us in our complex and complicated matter.

I promise you, we keep secrets only to keep you safe. What we do is for the good of everyone. Not just for Ravarra, but for the entire world. The Rivera words are, ‘follow the light.’ And, that is what we do.

And someday, you too shall follow it.

Watch over your siblings. You are all they have now. We will see you again.

In this world, or the next.

Signed,
Sandalia Arias, Lady Rivera

***

Cicero could feel his own tears at the edges of his eyes.

These letters had nothing to do with him, yet they were just so... intense.

Especially now, considering their ultimate fate. They shared the same fate as Princess Adora.

They never made it to Armaya.

Though, Cicero would have honestly been surprised if they did receive aid from the Acueri Princess.

This was where all of those boring history lessons paid off.

Millennia ago, when King Marcel had been first forming the new Kingdom of Ravarra, a group of women led by a noblewoman named Ariana Arroya had decided that they were done being oppressed by the men of Cuatro Reinos. They took a fleet of ships and left the continent, choosing to sail south.

They landed on a new continent, where the natives had been embroiled in a war between two tribes, one dominated by women, the other by men.

Ariana and her settlers obviously aided the women’s tribe, and defeated the men’s tribe once and for all. And, when the women’s tribal queen succumbed to her wounds in battle, she gave Ariana the hand of her son, her only child, in marriage, and named her her heiress.

And, thus was born Queen Ariana the Conqueror, the first Queen of Armaya.

But, the Principality of Acueria was a different story.

Cicero knew less details about that, but apparently a Lady Riera—he didn’t remember her given name—had at some point disapproved of Armaya’s treatment of men, seeing it as equal—if not worse—to the treatment of women in Cuatro Reinos.

She and a few of her dissenters left central Armaya and traveled to the mountains of the continent’s east, where they came across an isolated tribe that believed in equality between women and men. Instead of kings and queens, this tribe was ruled by princes and princesses. Lady Riera married their prince, and their children after them bore their father’s princely title, and their mother’s family name.

There had been a few wars and stuff, as to be expected, and in Armaya today, Acueria was a full region of the Queendom, but only at great compromise, and as a result, the Riera rulers of Acueria got to keep their titles of Princess and Prince, and while the rest of Armaya continued to practice female dominance, the Acueri were allowed to continue their practice of male and female equality.

And honestly, in Cicero’s eyes, the differences between Acueria and the rest of Armaya were a perfect example of why gender equality was the best way to go.

House Arroya went extinct long ago, and the Tiara of Armaya had switched hands so many times that everyone had lost count. Who knew how many wars had been fought to see which new House would rule the continent?

House Riera—like Ravarra’s House Reyes—was still alive and in power after all these millennia.

It really went to show that the lands where gender equality prospered were the only lands whose leadership had not changed hands, and had had millennia-long stable rule.

Now, in regards to the Berta’s parents, it wasn’t hard to see the relation. One look at their names, and one could clearly see that Houses Riera and Rivera were obviously related. And on top of that, if Cicero was not mistaken, Blanco and Berta’s great-great-grandfather had been an Acueri Prince.

But still, they weren’t the same House. Even if they had been at some point, that had been many, many millennia ago. Perhaps the more recent ancestry might have helped, but if whatever the Lord and Lady had been doing had been too serious to even tell their own children, they probably wouldn’t have wanted to risk it.

Besides, everybody knew how the Acueri felt about demanding outsiders...

Cicero looked up to see Berta shaking her head.

“I wonder what my father would think about where his House is now.”

Cicero shrugged, “I’m... sure he would have trusted your sister’s judgement.”

Maybe...

“Still,” she sighed, “He left this realm the Lord of the Río. Brenda did succeed him. And, he expected me to succeed her...”

“You did though,” Cicero stated, “You may not be Lady of the Río, but you are Lady Rivera.”

She stared down at her hands for a long time.

Then, she nodded, “You’re right.”

She looked up at him. He smiled at her, and she smiled back.

“You’re right,” she repeated, “I may not be liege of my father’s land, but I am still liege of my father’s name.”

“Exactly.”

“And, who knows?” Berta shrugged, “Blanco and I can’t be wards of House Evangelio forever. Maybe someday House Rivera will have lands of it’s own again.”

“Yeah, maybe!”

“Lands and titles that my own heirs will someday inherit.”

“Yeah—!”

...Wait.

“Your heirs...?” Cicero asked.

“Yes.”

She sat back in the desk.

“Brenda had no hope for this House, she thought that our line was at an end,” she nodded to the letters, “but my parents fully expected our bloodline to continue after them. Well, I intend to honor their expectations. And Brenda, God rest her soul, I’m going to prove her wrong. House Rivera is going to survive.”

“W-what does that entail?”

Berta took the letters and carefully put them back into the drawer.

“It means that I’m going to have to make some sacrifices,” she stated, “For one... I’m going to have to marry and have children.”

What?

“But, I thought you couldn’t... You know.”

Berta could never experience any form of attraction.

“I can’t,” she confirmed, “But like I said, I need to make sacrifices. I can’t let something as trivial as my own desires, or...” she shrugged, “...disinclinations take priority over my family’s legacy.”

Cicero didn’t know...

To him at least, a legacy didn’t seem like it was worth suppressing oneself in such a way.

Berta sighed again, “I guess this means I’ve got a lot more letters to write soon. I’m going to need to look through a list of all the eligible bachelors...”

She trailed off.

Then, she looked at Cicero in a very... odd way.

“...Or, maybe I don’t.”

...

...

...

...Oh no.

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

She nodded to him, “You’re an unmarried noble son, Cicero. And, we’re the same age...”

Cicero’s face heated up in a bad way this time, “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Berta...”

“I think it’s an excellent idea. We’re already friends, so we wouldn’t need to spend time bonding. And, we’re both only a year too young to marry at the present time. We can set the wedding date to some time next year.”

“But, but,” Cicero argued, “It’s... not that simple! There’s just... so many things we’d have to do, and... so many things we’d have to... It’s a bad idea!”

Cicero couldn’t even believe this had a possibility of happening!

This was horrible!

He would have to... marry her! They would have to have a... wedding ceremony, and... and, oh God, he was gonna have to... kiss her! And then, they would have to celebrate, as if this were a good thing. And then... And then...

Just the thought of what they’d have to do on their wedding night made Cicero’s dick shrivel.

“Again, I beg to differ, it’s an excellent idea,” she smiled, “Well then, I think it’s settled! We can work out the dates later. We’ll have to become formally betrothed at some point, but I’ll need your family’s permission first, I think tomorrow I’ll write to your—.”

“NO!!! I’ll never marry you! Never! I’d rather die!”

Cicero ran out of the room.

It was only when he was halfway down the hall that he stopped and realized what he’d done.

Oh God. Had he really just done that? Sure, she hadn’t been listening. And sure, he’d known her practically their whole lives. But, Cicero had no place talking like that to a Lady.

It had all just come so fast. One second, they were reading old letters, and then the next she was talking about... marrying him.

The thought of marrying Berta... Maybe even the thought of being married off to any Lady at all... He didn’t know why, but it just repulsed him. It just sounded like a living hell...

And for some reason... he kept thinking about Blanco.

He looked up when he heard someone approaching.

It was Berta. She had a regretful look on her face.

Cicero got up and looked at the floor, “Apologies, my lady. That was... rude of me.”

“No, it’s okay,” she assured him, “I got carried away. I should have listened to you.”

Cicero sighed in relief. He may not have wanted to marry her, but that didn’t mean he wanted to lose her as a friend.

“I should have seen it before,” she stated, “I saw the way Blanco looked at you, but I should’ve seen that you were looking at him the same way.”

Wait, what?

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about why you had such a reaction to my marriage proposal,” she told him, “Why you’ll probably never marry, at least not in the current laws on matrimony... Why you and Blanco both enjoy each other’s companies so much.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you like boys instead of girls.”

Cicero paused.

He had been caught all the way off guard by that.

Was that... true?...

...

...

...

...Yes.

Yes, it was true, he realized.

The tickle in his belly, the heat in his face. The disinclination to the thought of marriage—at least to a girl. If the Queen changed the laws someday, and made it possible for him to marry another boy...

...Yes. He would like that very much.

And, the way he felt about Blanco...

The way he’d felt about Blanco... probably his whole life.

The way he wanted to be with Blanco...

The things he wanted to do with Blanco...

Blanco was so much more than his friend...

...He had a crush on him.

The sound of boots walking echoed down the hall.

Cicero turned to see Sir Nando coming toward him.

He nodded, “Lara sent me to find you. She says it’s time to get back to training.”

Cicero nodded slowly, “Yes, Sir.”

Cicero said his goodbyes and... thanks to Berta, then left to return to the courtyard.

He had a lot to think about...

***

When Cicero entered the courtyard, the first thing that caught his attention was the new statue that had been erected in the center.

A statue of Lady Brenda Rivera.

It wasn’t like the statue of a war hero or a knight.

She didn’t carry any weapons. No swords, or bows, or spears.

The only thing she had was the defiant stare on her face. The face she had made when she stood her ground against the rebels that attacked her home.

The face that she had given that Robles bastard moments before she died.

She had been a true badass.

Cicero wondered... Could he ever be like that?

Could he ever be a badass?

Or, was he just too... different?

Lady Brenda had been infertile. That was sort of different, but...

But, it wasn’t the same kind of different as Cicero...

Cicero had heard all of those tales about heroic knights enamoring fair virgins.

But, those had all been... normal love tales. If it was about a male knight, he was enamoring a fair damsel. If it was about a female knight, she was enamoring a fair lordling.

He had heard no stories about female knights enamoring fair damsels. No stories about male knights enamoring fair lordlings.

Were there stories like that? Cicero hoped, wished there were. He wanted to hear a story like that... He wanted to be in a story like that. A brave and courageous knight, defeating evil villains and defending the realm, and at the same time experiencing this different kind of love, and in the end, he ends up falling in love with a fair boy, and they live happily ever after.

Cicero needed a story like that to exist.

But, he didn’t even know if it did.

Could a story like that even exist?

Could someone be a heroic, a brave and courageous, or even just a good knight, if they only experienced attraction like this?

General Marcela and Dame Lara. They were like this. But...

But, they were girls...

Maybe it was only acceptable if girls were like this...

Sir Nando. He was like this. But... But, he wasn’t a normal knight.

He was a pleasure-boy.

He was who the other men turned to when they couldn’t find any women to have sex with.

Was that the only way that a boy like him could be a good knight? He could only be a... a pleasure-boy?

No!

Cicero didn’t want to be a pleasure-boy!

He didn’t want to be just a... a thing for everyone else to relieve stress onto!... Into!

He didn’t want to be a... whore in armor!

He wanted to be a knight!

There had to be... There had to be something...

...Right?

Maybe... Maybe there was someone he could ask?

He looked around.

The manor courtyard had a few notable individuals in it, and some of them caught his eye.

His brother, Armando, was over there training some knights with General Vargas. But yeah, he was training knights. Maybe he should look for someone who wasn’t busy...

Hmm...

Sorceress Mirta and her chubby lover, Squire Cordero, were over there laughing with each other.

They were lovers though. As in opposite sex lovers. They wouldn’t know anything about this...

General Marcela and Dame Lara were sitting together on the other side. They were same sex lovers...

...But, they were girls. It could have been different for girls. They probably wouldn’t understand either...

Who would understand!?

Was there anybody!?

He wished Victor were here. Cicero had heard Berta say once that Victor and the Crown Prince Esteban were in love. He would understand...

...But, he wasn’t just some ordinary knight though. He was a chosen one. God had chosen him specifically to carry out his will. God hadn’t chosen Cicero for anything. He wasn’t a chosen one. He was just a random squire...

Ugh, was there anybody who would understand!?

Anybody!?

Anybody at all!?

Cicero was about to give up...

...When he heard some familiar voices arguing.

He turned to see two familiar figures sitting in the shade.

One was his favorite cousin, Commander Miguel Escobar. The other was Sorceress Trinidad, who was neither his cousin, nor his favorite anything.

They were pretty much complete opposites, except for one thing...

...They both liked boys and girls.

Hmm...

Maybe...

Yeah.

They were probably the closest to understanding his issue.

Yeah, he could talk to them.

He should.

Yeah, he should!

He made his decision and went over to them.

“...She was definitely looking at me,” Miguel was saying.

“You’re delusional,” Trinidad argued, “She was clearly looking at me!”

“Nah, she was looking at me,” Miguel smiled, “She was looking all over me. That girl wanted something, and it certainly wasn’t my name...”

Trinidad rolled her eyes, “Oh, right, because everybody just wants you, everybody just lays their eyes on you, and then they’re all like, ‘Mm, I wanna fuck him.’”

“Yeah, pretty much,” he winked.

“You just think you’re entitled to every-damn-body, just because, oh, you’re a big important nobleman with no foreskin that has the right to seduce anyone he wants!”

“Hey, you said it, not me.”

They continued to argue as Cicero approached them.

They were both somewhere around Victor’s age, he was pretty sure, maybe a little younger. People said that Cicero and Miguel looked alike. He had dirty blonde hair, tanned skin with a bit of a flush, and green eyes. Trinidad was dark-skinned, and she had piercing brown eyes, a big smile when she let it show, and dark Selvaran hair that she wore in braids.

“Hello, Miguel,” Cicero greeted, “Hello, Trinidad.”

“Hey, little cousin,” Miguel smiled at him, “What brings you out here with us lowlives?”

Trinidad scoffed and mumbled, “Noble calls himself a lowlife, that’s rich...”

“Training mostly,” Cicero answered, ignoring Trinidad’s never-ending criticism of nobles, “What were you arguing about?”

Trinidad chuckled, “Handmaiden walked by earlier. We were having a disagreement about which of us she wanted to sleep with.”

“Still say it’s me.”

Trinidad made a face and put on a mocking voice, “‘Still say it’s me, I’m highborn Miguel, and everybody wants to suck on my highborn cut penis.’”

“You know, for a girl that doesn’t like highborns, you sure seem to have a lot of opinions about my circumcised penis.”

Cicero honestly couldn’t agree more...

“Uhh, anyway,” Cicero changed the subject, “I was wondering... Could I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Shoot.”

“Well... I was just thinking...” God, this was harder than he thought... “You both like... both, right? Genders, I mean.”

Trinidad chuckled, “Yeah, right. I like boys and girls equally,” she glared at Miguel, “Like equality. A concept I’m sure some people may have heard of...”

Miguel nodded, “Yeah, I like both. No preference. I’ve been with so many girls and boys that I’ve lost count.”

“Oh, here we go again...”

Cicero looked between them, “Have you ever... been with each other?”

“Ew! Fuck no! God!”

Miguel smiled and shrugged, “Well, I mean... I wouldn’t mind, if you wanted to...”

“I would rather fuck a dragon!”

“Pretty much the same deal.”

“Oh, for Founder’s sake!”

“Founder was highborn.”

“Shut up, please, shut up!”

Cicero shook his head, “Uh, anyway, that wasn’t my question. What I meant to ask was... Umm... Well, what do you two think about... well... people who like... who like the same sex?... Just the same sex.”

Miguel shrugged, “Well, I hardly understand the concept of picking just one.”

“I think what Commander Arrogance means,” Trinidad glared, “is that it makes no difference to us. Some people like girls, some people like boys, some people like both,” she shrugged, “Some people like cats, some people like dogs, some people like both. Everybody has their differences. There’s no use fighting over it.”

“Yeah, that too.”

Cicero nodded, “Okay, well... Do you think that... someone who likes only the same sex... can be... can be a good... a good knight?”

“Of course,” Trinidad snorted, “Have you not met your own General?”

“Well,” Cicero stuttered, “Do you think that... Do you think that... a boy like that could be?”

Miguel sat back, “Like Trinidad said, everyone has their differences. Who you sleep with shouldn’t determine what makes you a good knight.”

“Yeah,” Trinidad nodded, “What matters is that you’re good at what you do, and that you serve to the best of your ability.”

Cicero smiled, “Okay, well, thank you. For... For everything. You’ve helped quite a bit.”

“Anytime, little cousin.”

“Mmm,” Trinidad bit her lip, “Look at that one...”

Cicero looked. There was a manservant a little away. He was looking in their direction with an... interesting look on his face.

“Now, that one clearly wants me.”

Trinidad rolled her eyes, “You’re an idiot. He’s looking right at me.”

“Nah. Those eyes are clearly saying, ‘I want me some circumcised dick.’”

“Oh, fuck off!”

The two of them started to argue again. Cicero decided to leave them to it.

Well, that had certainly been eventful.

Cicero definitely felt better about himself than he had before.

Maybe he could still be a good knight while liking boys.

And hell, maybe he would be in a story of his own one day!

That would be wonderful!

“EEP—!”

Cicero turned at the familiar sound.

Blanco was over by the castle, being supported by a couple of knights.

“Thank you,” he told them as they let him go.

Cicero smiled and went over to him, “Hey, Blanco.”

Blanco smiled shyly and fingered the carving when he saw him, “Hi, Cicero.”

“I just wanted to tell you,” he smiled at him, “that you look really cute today.”

“I...” Blanco’s eyes popped, “I do...?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, “Like a fair lordling out of a great story.”

Blanco’s entire face turned all red as a big smile crawled across his face.

“Th-Thank you... Thank you very much.”

Cicero took his hand, to the response of a surprised look on Blanco’s face.

“Do you want to walk with me?” Cicero offered.

Blanco smiled and nodded, “Sure!”

And so, Cicero walked through the Evangelio manor hand-in-hand with Blanco, his fair little lordling.

And one day, Cicero was going to be a good knight!

Chapter Text

Niguel was having the dream again.

No, check that.

He was having the nightmare again.

No, check it again.

He was having the memory again.

He could hear it. He could hear them pounding on the door. He could hear their shouts. He could hear his father telling him to run, and his sister telling him to hide.

He obeyed them.

He ran away and hid in a closet.

He heard the awful crack as the door broke in, the resultant shuffles and stomps as they stormed into his home.

From that closet, he could hear it all.

His father’s cries.

His sister’s screams.

And then after, he heard them tearing the place apart. He heard their leader, her funny voice telling them to find him. How did they know about him? How did they know that he was here?

But, it didn’t matter, because they found him.

He saw the light poor in as the closet door was practically pulled from it’s hinges.

He felt big arms grabbing him. He tried to struggle, but they were too strong.

They grabbed him and dragged him out, and then he saw her.

Her blonde hair and her vile, mocking smile.

Her funny voice told her men to, ‘have at him.’

And then, she just stood there and watched as her men tore off his clothes...

***

Niguel woke with a start.

He was sweating from head to toe.

He looked around...

...And, sighed full of relief when he saw where he was.

He was in a big fancy room, in a big fancy bed, in between his two not-so-big, but-definitely-fancy lovers.

Sorcerer Piero Zapata and Lord Ignacio Duran.

He looked between the two of them, and couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face.

He liked them both so very much.

Each of them had been through so much in the last year, and in the end, they’d come together to be there for each other. Through Piero’s grief. Through Ignacio’s depression.

Through Niguel’s...

If someone had told Niguel beforehand that he was going to end up in a relationship with not one, but two boys, he would have laughed and assumed it was a joke.

He hadn’t even known that he liked boys.

Looking back now, he really should have. His father was from the Isla Del Mar. Him and his mother had met in Puerto Consorte, when he worked on a merchant ship, and she was visiting Aunt Nívea.

Niguel had heard the stories about Isla people and their natural same sex attraction, and he’d even heard his father talking about male lovers in his youth, but he hadn’t realized that that applied to half Isla people too.

He probably should have had his suspicions when he’d heard the rumors about his sister, Natalia, making out with one of her female friends, but he’d assumed that she was just exploring, especially since she’d lost her virginity to a miller’s boy not long before.

And, the Prince was half Isla, and so was that hero-guy with the eyes that rescued him—What was his name? Evangelio? Ignacio said that the two of them were in a relationship, so... Niguel supposed that pretty much confirmed it.

Still, even with all of this knowledge, Niguel would never have seen himself in a same sex relationship.

He liked girls.

If he had been given an option between a random boy and a random girl, he would have most likely chosen the girl.

His first kiss had been with a girl—a group of girls actually. Natalia’s friends. There was an old tree near his home with a big open trunk that a group of adolescents could easily fit in. They’d basically coaxed him into it with them where they each proceeded to practice locking lips with him. He couldn’t even remember which of them he kissed first.

In fact, he’d almost lost his virginity that day. He’d actually gotten a boner from all the kissing, and the girls had noticed it. One of the girls had pushed him back onto the ground and crawled on top of him, while the others cheered her on. She had been grinding herself against his clothed boner! He could have sworn he could feel her wetness even through his layers! She had literally been unlacing his pants!

And then, stupid Natalia had interrupted them!

Big sisters were literally the worst!

He’d had to go home that day with some serious blue balls.

And, that had only been a couple months before he actually did lose his virginity...

No, not lost... It had been taken from him.

Taken from him by...

He shuddered at the thought.

He looked between his two lovers again.

And, despite the fact that he may have preferred girls, that hadn’t stopped him from ending up in a relationship with two boys.

And, it didn’t matter, because he was happy.

He was happy with both of them.

Happier than he’d ever been in his life.

He looked over at Piero.

He was so little and cute. He had shortish red hair and a few freckles dotting a face as white as snow. Those were apparently all traits from his father’s side—His father was a Prieto, and the Prieto’s had their lands furthest to the Valle De Obsidiana’s east, closest to the Tierra Del Fuego, where the people were known for having very light skin and hair. Piero, however, was a Zapata, and the Zapata’s lands were furthest to the Valle’s west. His mother, Lady Zapata, and both of his sisters had very different features, shiny tanned skin tones, and hair as black as night.

He looked over at Ignacio.

He was just a bit taller than Niguel, but still very, very cute, especially on the extremely rare occasions when he displayed his big-dimpled smile. His mother had apparently been southern, and it showed in that Ignacio’s skin had just a tiny hint of golden to it. He’d gotten most of his other traits from his father though, especially his hair. Niguel hadn’t even known that the charcoal black hair on his head was dyed until he looked at the shockingly-different color of his body hair. It was honestly kind of hilarious. Another interesting trait that he had was that he was both right-handed and left-handed—he could use them both equally. It was very useful during certain bedroom activities...

And then, of course, he looked at their dicks.

Niguel took a bit of pride in being the only one of them with a full and complete penis. He was the only one that could actually fully enjoy when his, ‘bald head,’ was given attention. Neither of their reactions seemed even half as eventful.

Why highborns thought it was a good idea to slice off their foreskins, Niguel would never know.

He looked back at Piero.

Niguel had been Piero’s first kiss. And, Piero had been Niguel’s first boy-kiss.

Piero had been a friend of Natalia’s, and the two had met through her. Piero and Niguel had too started to become friends after, but it soon became... so much more than that.

It was only a week or two after Niguel’s encounter with the girls, and in fact, it happened in that very same tree. Niguel had been telling him all about it, and had asked Piero if he’d ever been kissed before. He remembered how red Piero’s freckled white cheeks had gotten as he’d told him no, and that he didn’t even know if he even liked girls or not.

One thing led to another, and before he knew it, Niguel and Piero had been kissing.

Niguel had gotten a boner from that too. Perhaps that could have even led to something more, but of course, they were interrupted again. This time, by Niguel’s mother. But after that, what they had was more than just friendship.

During the early stages of the Del Fuego Rebellion, the woman that had been training Piero in magic, Sorceress Alana, had been murdered by another cadet. She had been like a second mother to Piero, he had been in so much grief. After the Battle of the Ciudad Del Fundador, they had all attended the funeral. Sorceress Alana had been eastern, and she had been given a traditional eastern funeral, where no tears were aloud, just praise and happy memories, song and dance.

But honestly, the sight of the forced smile on Piero’s face all night had been an even sadder sight than the tears.

But, they helped him to get through it. As he did for them.

Niguel looked back at Ignacio.

Ignacio had been the first person that Niguel had had sex with willingly.

After the... raid on Niguel’s home, his mother had gone straight to Castle Duran to plead for something. Niguel didn’t even know what. But whatever it was, Ignacio had given them that and so much more.

He’d come all the way to their home himself—him, a noble heir with much greater priorities than a common knight and her family—and had personally helped them all to get better.

He’d healed his father’s many, many wounds. He’d helped Natalia to get rid of the baby that they’d put in her.

And, he’d helped Niguel in the best way possible.

He’d made him feel like a person again.

Not long after the Battle of the Ciudad, Ignacio’s father, Lord Severo, had went missing.

They’d found him soon after...

...Impaled to death.

Ignacio was Lord Duran now. He had already been depressed before, and now... now he was full of depression and grief.

Lord Severo had been given a traditional northern funeral. Complete silence all the way from church to cemetery.

Niguel had never seen such a blank look of pure pain on anyone’s face before.

But, they helped him to get through it. As he did for them.

As they all did for each other.

***

The sun was just beginning to rise as Niguel heard someone coming down the hallway.

He looked up to see Piero’s sister, Ignacio’s handmaiden, Ana, coming with something in her hand.

“Oh,” she nodded, “Good morning.”

“Good morning,” Niguel greeted, “You look very pretty today.”

She was wearing her black hair up, and had on a black gown that was open at the top. Niguel really liked the amount of tanned cleavage that it showed off.

She chuckled, “Thanks. Is Lord Duran in?”

“Still asleep.”

“Ah,” she smiled, “And, my brother?”

“In there with him.”

“Of course. Very well then, can you give this to him when he rises?”

She handed him a letter. It was sealed with blue-green wax, with the sigil of a cat in a tiara stamped into it.

Niguel nodded, “Sure.”

“Thank you,” she nodded, “Good day to you.”

“You too.”

She turned and left. Niguel couldn’t but watch her ass as she left. She was really pretty.

Obviously, Niguel wasn’t going to do anything. He’d made a promise to Ignacio and Piero. But, God knows if he hadn’t been in a relationship with that girl’s brother...

Then, Niguel heard someone shuffling out of the bedchamber.

He looked up to see Piero stumbling out, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

“Hey,” Niguel greeted him.

Piero smiled when he saw him, “Hi.”

He came over and wrapped his skinny arms around Niguel’s neck, leaning up and giving him a soft kiss on the lips.

“You’re up early.”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Piero’s face turned sad, “Another nightmare?”

Niguel nodded.

Piero hugged him, “I’m sorry...”

Niguel hugged him back, “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

He would get through it.

He always did.

“What’s that?” Piero asked, looking down at the letter in his hand.

Niguel held it up, “A letter that Ana just dropped off. It’s for Ignacio.”

Piero took it and looked at it. His expression turned worrisome.

“This is from the Crown.”

“Do you think it’s serious?”

“I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out.”

Just then, he heard more shuffling.

Ignacio came out of the room in a similar state, his dyed hair a mess all over his head.

“Good morning, Lord Duran,” Niguel smiled.

Ignacio nodded, “Good morning, Sorcerer Piero,” he kissed him, “Squire Niguel,” he kissed him, “More nightmares?”

“Yeah...”

Ignacio put his arm around him, “It’s okay, Niguel. Do you need anything?”

“Could you make me another one of those potions?”

Ignacio sometimes made him potions that gave him a dreamless sleep. It didn’t last forever, but it helped every little bit it could.

“Of course.”

“Thanks,” Niguel smiled at him.

The ghost of a smile cut across Ignacio’s face, just enough for his dimples to briefly show.

“This came for you,” Piero handed him the letter, “It’s from the Ciudad, I think.”

Ignacio broke the seal and opened it.

His blank expression never wavered.

“What is it?”

Ignacio looked up from the letter.

“Her Grace is summoning the Monarch’s Court.”

Oh...

There was an uncomfortable silence at that.

“...So,” Piero finally spoke up, “does that mean you’re... leaving?”

“I’m afraid so, yes.”

“But,” Niguel asked, “what about the hunt?”

The Queen had assigned Ignacio and the Valle to hunt down the missing rebel leaders. Malvado Del Fuego, or Maligno, or somebody.

Maybe even the blonde one...

“It looks like I’m going to have to leave that in everyone else’s hands,” he assured them, “Lord Prieto and Lady Zapata are capable leaders.”

“But, who are you going to leave in charge of the Duran army?”

It wasn’t like he had any relatives to leave behind...

And, he couldn’t leave Ana in charge like he had the last time. She didn’t know anything about leading an army.

“That’s a good question,” he thought out loud, “Hmm...”

Then, he looked at Niguel.

He nodded to him, “Your mother has been a strong commander these past few months.”

“She has,” Niguel agreed.

“And, she’s more than proven herself to me time and time again. Tell me,” he asked, “How do you think she might take it if I promote her to a general of the Duran forces?”

Niguel paused at that. He looked at Ignacio, surprised.

“You want to leave my mother in charge?” Niguel asked, “As a general?”

“I can’t think of anyone better. So, what do you think?”

Niguel nodded, “Yes. I think that’s a great idea.”

“Good, then it’s settled,” he nodded, “I’ll make the arrangements. And, I want to see the armies gathered before I go. Piero, I’ll need to write to your mother...”

***

“Thank you, my lord,” Niguel’s mother saluted as she proudly displayed the pin of the Duran fist on her armor, indicating her as a general of House Duran.

“Thank you, General, for your continued valiance in service to my House,” Ignacio stated, “I cannot think of anyone I would rather trust to lead in my stead.”

“It will be my everlasting honor,” she nodded, “Are you sure you will not need an escort to the capital, my lord?”

“No. Thank you for your concern, but I will be traveling with the Arch Sorceress. I promise you, I will be in good hands, just as the Valle will with you.”

“Very well,” she saluted again, “Then, I wish you luck on your journey, my lord.”

“And you, General Nerea.”

Piero showed up and came over to them.

“Lord Pascual’s envoy just arrived. His army will be arriving within the hour.”

“Good,” Ignacio nodded, “And, your mother?”

Just as he said that, the sound of horse hooves echoed across the land.

Piero nodded ahead of them, “Arriving as we speak.”

They all turned as their newest arrivals came into view.

Hundreds of forces for as far as the eye could see approaching them. An army that had been bred specifically for war.

Banners blew in the wind, the sigil of Piero’s House proudly displayed upon each of them.

A black panther standing upright, wearing a brown cloak and half boots, on a gray background.

And, the woman leading them caught everyone’s eye instantly.

Lady Alida Zapata.

One of the most famed military commanders in the entire north.

She wore sparkling armor, her shoulder-length black hair waved in the wind, and her tanned skin seemed to shine in the sunlight.

Goddamn, was she gorgeous...

She rode up ahead of her armies to meet them. She stopped right in front of them on her horse as black as her hair, her face that of a stern, yet beautiful knight commander, blotting out the western sunset like the statue of an ancient heroine.

“My lord,” she bowed her head.

“Lady Zapata,” Ignacio nodded, “A pleasure to see you again.”

She dismounted and turned to salute properly.

“Always a pleasure, my lord,” she gave Piero a quick hug, “I am pleased that you could meet with us before your departure.”

“I hope to see the Valle armies prepared to march when I am gone,” he indicated, “This is General Nerea. She’ll be overseeing the Duran forces in my absence.”

“My lady,” Niguel’s mother saluted.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, General,” Lady Alida saluted back, “I understand that this hunt is more than personal for you. Especially if we are to come across one Lady Pilar Porra.”

Niguel shuddered at the name.

Porra...

One day, she was going to get her due...

Niguel would see to it...

“Yes...” his mother looked at him for a moment, “The Lady of Leon... My family...” she trailed off.

“Fear not, my new friend,” she stated, “Your family’s injustices will be avenged.”

Lady Alida put a hand on his mother’s shoulder.

“Together, we will sack the city of Leon. We will tear down it’s walls, topple it’s towers, cripple it’s every last means of defense...”

Then, she turned to Niguel. She placed her hand on his shoulder, and gave him a look as serious as an angel on a mission.

“And, we will not stop... until that bitch, Porra... is on her knees!”

God fucking damnit...

Now, Niguel had such a hard boner that it hurt.

This woman was incredible...

Niguel bowed his head, “Thank you, my lady.”

***

Niguel, Ignacio, and Piero watched as the armies of the Valle De Obsidiana assembled around them.

Finally, Arch Sorceress Andrea, the over-seven-hundred-years-old Overseer of the Order of Gray Magic, arrived and inclined to Ignacio.

“It is time.”

Ignacio turned to his lovers.

He gave them each a lingering kiss, then hugged them both close to him.

“Be safe,” he commanded, “Promise me you’ll both be safe.”

Piero nodded, “We promise.”

“Look out for each other,” he told them, “Be there for each other. You’re both going to need it.”

“We will,” Niguel assured him, “And, you look out for yourself. We need you as much as we need each other.”

“I will.”

He released them. He started to back away to leave.

“Goodbye, Ignacio.”

“Goodbye, Ignacio.”

Ignacio’s face spread into that rare sight of a wide, big-dimpled smile.

“Goodbye, my loves.”

Chapter Text

Danilo may not have seemed like the type, but he actually loved banquets.

They were only the most elegant of social gatherings, with only the most sophisticated of individuals in attendance as far as the eye could see. Banquets were the best of events for certain parties to strike deals and contracts and agreements with each other, because of course, wherever sophisticated individuals went, their money usually wasn’t that far behind.

And as a Nazario, one of Danilo’s truest loves in the world was money.

“Just ask around,” Victor suggested, “She’s bound to be here, and she’s got family all over. Just ask one of them, they’ll point us to her.”

After his liege and lover, Sir Victor Loyola, of course. And tonight, at this banquet being held in the Del Mar citadel, they were here to strike an entirely different sort of deal.

If they could find their potential benefactor first.

Danilo blushed, “I would rather not bother any of them with a request like ours.”

“It’s for a good cause.”

“They might not agree...”

“Are you joking?” Victor laughed, “They’ll think it’s the most important purpose in existence.”

Danilo blushed harder.

“You’re certain she’s even here?”

“She should be,” Victor nodded, “Everyone else is here, and with this whole voyage thing, she’s really got nowhere else to be. Come on, let’s go ask. She has to be here, I know it.”

It was true. Most of her higher-ups would be leaving, so she really didn’t have anywhere else to be, as far as Danilo knew.

But of course, this was a big banquet. Were it smaller, they could have easily found someone of her coloring without a problem, but at a big banquet like this...

And as much as he hated to admit it, they weren’t going to find her by just standing around.

“W-well... I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to socialize a bit.”

“That’s the spirit, darling,” Victor smiled, patting his ass.

And yet, Danilo blushed even harder.

And so, the two of them got to socializing around.

Everybody who was anybody was here. The wealthiest merchants, the finest knights, the most esteemed magic users, the most favored lovers. And of course, all of the Isla Lords and Ladies. This banquet was essentially something of a farewell send-off, since two of their own—Lord Velasco and Lady Bello—were about to embark on a quest.

Nobody knew anything about this secret quest of theirs. Only that it would take them on a voyage north of Ravarra.

It was apparently very important, so important that they had to both bring along and leave behind a few certain people, which was where their benefactor came in.

And as this was the case, Danilo decided that that would be the best place to start searching.

Danilo and Victor headed over to the end of the hall, where the seven lieges of the isle of passion were engaged in conversation.

Lord Raymundo Del Mar. The overall Lord of the entire Isla Del Mar. The Queen’s brother-in-law, and the protector of the west. All of the other Lords and Ladies here swore fealty to him. Apparently, the Queen had sent letters out not long ago, summoning her Monarch’s Court, which meant that Lord Del Mar would also be leaving, if not on a dangerous quest. Perhaps part of this banquet was also meant for him. He wore blue and brown formalwear in the colors of his House.

Lord Virgilio Velasco. One of the two lieges embarking on the quest, and the oldest among them. Lord Velasco had shamed his House in the past, leading a secret insurgency against the former King, one that had to be put down by many of today’s heroes, including the current Queen when still a Princess, and even his own daughter, who was now wife to a southern mainlander. Fortunately for them, that had been long enough ago for the Velasco’s to work their asses off to get back in good graces with the aristocracy. Hopefully their Lord had now learned from his mistakes. He wore red and black formalwear in the colors of his House.

Lady Marta Bello. Victor’s aunt. The other liege going on the quest, and by far the youngest among them. Coincidentally, the leader of the other shamed Isla House, but that was more the fault of her predecessors, not her. Hundreds of years ago, her ancestors had sided with the De La Luz Usurpation, which was good for them when the De La Luz’s came to the throne, but not so good when the Reyes’s reclaimed it a couple years later. And then most recently, Lady Marta’s sister, Victor’s mother, Maria, had been executed on her husband’s order, which—even though it was for questionable reasons—brought them to another degree of shame. Since then, Lady Marta had spent her young years fixing her family’s mistakes, and had been doing a damn good job at it too. She wore a green and purple dress in the colors of her House.

Lady Felicidad Fajardo. The most uptight person in the room. She loved power, and she let everyone know it. It was a wonder she hadn’t shamed her House with all of her power plays—some of which even affected Danilo’s family—but during the course of them all, she had managed to keep all of her influential friends, and seemingly the only one who could ever see through her facade was Lord Valenzuela. Who knew what sort of schemes she would be wrapped up in in the war ahead? But, it was a given that she would be. It was just her nature. She wore an orange and brown dress in the colors of her House.

Lord Emanuel Valenzuela. The father-in-law to Danilo’s brother, Dante. The black sheep of the Isla nobility. So to speak. Actually, he was more like the one white sheep in the flock of brown. Over the years, he had fully integrated himself into Isla society, but one look at him—with his golden blonde hair, his blue eyes, and most of all, his untanned light skin—and it was clear that this wasn’t where he originally belonged. Fortunately for him, he had risen to become one of the Isla’s most approved leaders, even earning the respect of Lady Fajardo, his long-time rival. He wore white and gold formalwear in the colors of his House.

Lord Valerio Loyola. Victor’s father. Everyone respected Lord Loyola just like any other, but after Lady Fajardo, he was probably the one with the most whispering going on behind his back. Ever since he had gotten Victor’s mother, Maria Bello, beheaded by the Queen herself on the mainland, there had been many suspicions about exactly why he might order the execution of his beloved wife. And, for good reason too. She had been executed for adultery of all things. Danilo wasn’t even sure if that was a crime on the Isla, and if it was, it certainly wasn’t an enforced one. Why a noble Lord would execute his Lady wife for such things, no one understood. Obviously, his House hadn’t been shamed like the others, but if he weren’t the father to Maria’s sole child, the Bello’s may have very well gone to war. Fortunately, tensions had died down over the years, but they would never be forgotten. He wore blue and silver formalwear in the colors of his House.

And of course, Lord Dario Nazario. Danilo’s revered father. The unofficial financial master of the Isla Del Mar. If someone on the isle needed money, it was the Lord Nazario who they turned to. Danilo’s family had connections to big money all over the realm, from the masters of coin in House Rosales, to the organized crime syndicates of the south. Danilo may have stood out from the rest of his family, but there was still the one thing that they all had in common. Their love for money. Which they all got from their Lord Nazario. He wore brown and gold formalwear in the colors of his House.

As Victor and Danilo approached, they got to hear the endings of their conversation.

“...I admit, my lord, my lady, that I am quite surprised by your opinions,” Lady Fajardo was saying, “Of all people who may have possessed stances on the rebellion that were... neutral at the very least, I would have expected the two of you to be among them.”

Of course, here she was casually talking shit about her peers.

What game was she playing now, Danilo wondered...

“Understandable, but my stance now is clear,” Lord Velasco stated, “I made the mistake of betraying the Crown once. I will not be doing it again. I have learned my lesson.”

Good man.

“Agreed,” Lady Bello nodded, “This rebellion stands for nothing but themselves. The last time my family sided with rebels, it did not end well for us. Never again shall we be labeled traitors.”

“Agreed.”

Good woman.

It was good to see that mistakes had been learned from.

As the seven broke into smaller conversations, Victor went to greet his father and aunt, while Danilo went to his own father.

He bowed his head, “Good day, Father.”

“Son,” he patted his back, “How have you been enjoying the festivities?”

“Fine, thank you.”

“Are you in need of something?” He asked, “You have a hungering look in your eye.”

Danilo blushed.

“It’s nothing. I simply have something to ask of Lord Valenzuela. I have... a deal to strike with one of his offspring.”

“Ahh,” his father smirked, “One of your deals that does not involve money, I presume...”

Danilo blushed harder.

His father chuckled, “That’s my boy. Well, I won’t hold you from it. Have fun.”

“Thank you.”

That was embarrassing...

He broke from his father just as Victor returned with one of his smiles.

“My father sends his regards, and hopes that I’m,” he chuckled, “treating you well.”

Santamaría, why was everybody so nosy!?

“Well, you can tell him that I am being treated quite well,” Danilo mumbled, “Later. Now come, let us speak with Lord Valenzuela.”

They turned and headed over to the mainland-born Lord, who was currently standing on his own.

“Ah, Sir Victor, master Nazario,” he greeted as they approached him, “Good day, gentlemen.”

His years on the isle of passion had given him an Isla accent, but there were still a few points in his speech where his native southern mainlander accent broke through.

“Good day, my lord,” Danilo greeted, “We were just coming to ask you for someone.”

“If it is your brother, then I am afraid you are a little too late. Elena dragged him off to be alone with her not long ago.”

Danilo blushed yet again for the millionth time tonight.

He knew exactly what it meant when his brother and his wife wanted to spend time alone together...

“Actually, we weren’t looking for Dante. Or, Elena,” Danilo shook his head, “We were searching for your other daughter. Eloísa.”

“Ah,” he nodded, “Well, I don’t know where she is at the moment, but I did last see her speaking with her sister, Lele. She is just over there.”

Perfect.

Danilo bowed his head, “Thank you, Lord Valenzuela.”

He turned to leave.

“Now, hold on,” Lord Valenzuela stopped them, “Why exactly were you searching for Eloísa?”

Danilo stopped in his tracks. He slowly turned back to him.

“We have... an agreement that we wish to partake with her.”

“An agreement?” He raised his eyebrow, “What sort of agreement?”

Danilo looked at Victor, who shrugged with a smirk. Danilo sighed, then turned back to the Valenzuela liege.

“I... We... We want to have sex with your daughter.”

For, that was the deal that they wished to strike with her.

A couple weeks of marvelous sex.

She wasn’t usually who Danilo might have been interested in.

Eloísa Valenzuela was pretty young, a good couple of years younger than him, but not too young to have sex with.

And on top of that, she was a girl. Personally, Danilo much preferred boys over girls, and indeed it was usually boys whom he and Victor made such agreements with. But, it had been a while since they’d done it with a girl, and Victor had felt like switching things up a bit, so Danilo had obliged. And besides, it wasn’t like Danilo wasn’t attracted to the opposite sex at all.

He liked girls, he did. He just liked boys so much more.

Lord Valenzuela looked them both over with a cautious tone.

“I see... Well as I said, Lele will know where she is. You can ask her.”

Danilo again bowed his head, “Thank you, Lord Valenzuela.”

He turned and rushed off much faster this time.

“And, boys,” he called after them, “You be good to her. And, you’d better not put a baby in her, you hear? I’m not ready to be grandfather to illegitimates.”

“Yes, my lord!”

God, that was just too much.

Hopefully talking to Lele would be easier.

With that, they crossed the room to where he had pointed them in. In no time, they spotted Eleonora Valenzuela, standing with her own liege, Roana Del Mar.

Roana was by far one of the most beautiful women on the entire Isla. Maybe they should just try to strike their deal with her, at least that one would be easier to navigate—.

“ACK—!”

Just then, Roana’s drink splashed up out of her chalice and into her face.

How had that happened?

Then, he heard snickering.

Oh.

That’s how.

He turned to see the twins, Marina and Amador Del Mar, hiding behind some curtains while trying not to laugh their asses off.

They had always been such a mischievous pair, and the years apart hadn’t changed them a bit.

When they spotted him, Marina made a shushing motion at him, and Amador blew him a kiss, before the two of them discreetly rushed off.

Victor and Danilo could have made their agreement with Amador. If they hadn’t slept with him already just yesterday. Oh well.

They turned and continued to approach Lele and Roana, who was in the midst of grumbling.

“Those damned children,” she snarled as she cleaned herself off, “Putting them both in the same place was the last thing Raymundo should have done, I have half a mind to—!”

“Umm,” Danilo stopped, “Pardon us, madam Del Mar. Madam Valenzuela, could we ask something of you?”

“Of course,” she nodded, “What do you need?”

“Well, we were wondering where we might find your sister, Eloísa.”

“Eloísa?” Roana gave them a look and crossed her arms, “And, what exactly do you two boys need with Eloísa?”

“W-well... We wish to strike a deal with her that would be, I assure you, very beneficial for both parties—.”

“You want to fuck her.”

“Yes, yes, we do.”

Goddamnit, Roana Del Mar was too smart for her own good...

Lele chuckled, “Well, I would tell you to be good to her, but truthfully that is something I should be saying to her. She just stepped out into the hallway, with Commander Fígaro and Erasmo.”

Finally...

“Thank you, madams. Enjoy your evening.”

“Have fun!”

Ugh...

With that, Victor and Danilo left the banquet hall, and proceeded into the hallway.

Almost instantly, they finally came across who they were looking for.

Squire Eloísa Valenzuela. A girl a couple of years younger than them. She had her hair tied back in a bun, and was wearing shiny, light-colored armor. She had all of the same traits that all of the Valenzuela siblings had. Olive skin with rosy cheeks, their father’s golden blonde hair, and their mother’s cacao brown eyes.

She stood speaking with her two companions. One was Commander Fígaro. Eloísa’s trainer, and the elderly paramour to Lord Velasco, Eloísa’s maternal grandfather.

And, the other was Sorcerer Erasmo Valenzuela. Her brother. Erasmo was more Danilo’s age, and he would have definitely preferred to have sex with him over his sister. But unfortunately, he and Commander Fígaro were also going on this secretive voyage.

But, Eloísa was not.

Which was why they were coming to her.

Victor saluted once they reached them, “Good evening, Commander, Squire and Sorcerer Valenzuela.”

“Sir Victor,” Commander Fígaro saluted back.

“Hello there,” Eloísa saluted and smiled a warm smile.

Goddamn, she really was pretty...

“Danilo, Victor,” Erasmo nodded, “I hope you boys have been saying your prayers.”

“I seem to have forgotten them,” Victor smiled flirtatiously, “Perhaps when you return, we’ll have to schedule some time for you to reteach them to me.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” Erasmo shook his head, “Looks like you’ll have to receive God’s punishment so that you don’t forget them again.”

“Consider myself braced.”

That’s right, Erasmo was into, ‘that,’ stuff.

He was the type of person to give someone a spanking while reciting Doctrinal prayers.

Freaky... but intriguing.

Danilo wondered how many similarities he shared with his younger sister.

Danilo beckoned, “Could we borrow you, Eloísa?”

“Sure,” she winked.

She parted with her companions, and crossed the room to speak with them privately.

“How may I help you boys?” She asked.

“To put it simply,” Danilo stated, “We have... a proposition for you.”

“A proposition, hmm?” She smiled coyly, “How intriguing...”

Of course...

She already knew damn well what they wanted from her...

...And, judging by the look on her face, Danilo could already tell what her answer was gonna be...

“We, umm,” Danilo mumbled, “We understand that you won’t be joining in your grandfather’s quest.”

“That’s correct.”

“Where are you going to be?” Victor asked, “With all of your superiors gone. Will you return home?”

“Most likely. My mother would certainly love it if I did,” she raised an eyebrow, “Unless you boys have something better in mind...?”

“As a matter of fact...” Victor smiled flirtatiously.

“Uh—umm...” Danilo stuttered, “W-we... would like to propose that you... spend the following weeks... with... us.”

“With you?” She smiled, “Why, that’s very generous. But, knowing you boys, I won’t be doing so free of charge...”

“You are... not wrong...” Danilo admitted.

“In exchange,” Victor flirted, “for allowing you to stay with us during your little getaway... you will grant the two of us access to a couple of your... fuck-able holes.”

Santana la Luz, Victor!

“Well,” she smiled widely, “It just so happens that I have two very fuck-able holes that love it when boys give them attention...”

Right...

That was very good to know.

“So,” Danilo nodded, “Do we have a deal, then?”

“Not just yet,” Eloísa stated, “Before I agree to anything, I would like to get to know the two of you more intimately. Individually, if you will. So that I can know what I’m getting myself into...”

Ohh...

Danilo looked at Victor, who shared a look with him.

“That could... be arranged.”

“Perfect!”

Eloísa clasped her hands.

“So, which one of you is gonna fuck me first?”

Oh!

They were doing this now?

Okay, they were doing this now!

“I think Danilo should do it,” Victor kindly suggested, “He’s had an embarrassing night. He deserves to relax.”

Oh...

Eloísa shrugged, “Fine by me,” she turned to him, “You good for that?”

Danilo’s face heated up.

Then, he nodded.

“Wonderful!”

She grabbed his arm and started to tug him away.

“Let’s go, cuteness!”

***

Eloísa pulled Danilo through the citadel, until they reached an empty guest quarters.

After pushing him in, Eloísa shut the door behind them, then turned back to Danilo with a smile.

“Well... Danilo Nazario,” she bit her lip, “Looks like I’ve finally got you all to myself...”

Danilo blushed and nodded, “That, you do.”

Eloísa giggled, “You’re so adorable...”

She slowly crossed over to him with her lips open. When she reached him, she wrapped her arms around him, and engulfed his mouth into a passionate kiss.

Danilo fell into it, giving into his natural desires, feeling the wet heat of her soft lips against his own. He wrapped his arms around her, feeling her warmth even through her thick armor. He let his arms travel up and down, taking in the feel of her smaller, yet muscled body.

Finally, she pulled away, slowly sauntering behind him.

She slapped his backside, causing him to yelp.

“Mm, the rumors are true,” she whispered as she squeezed one of the cheeks, “You do have an ass to rival those of the twins.”

“D-Don’t tell Amador.”

“I’ll keep my mouth shut,” she kissed his earlobe.

Then, she turned him around. She backed up toward the bed, giving him a full view of her armored body.

She was so beautiful. She was so toned and curved, and all of her body was just so very much to look at. She looked like a bicolored angel...

She lifted a hand to the back of her head, then pulled out the ribbon that kept her bun in place, letting all of her golden hair spill down.

“Ready for the show?”

She brought her hands back up to her breastplate, and slowly started to loosen the straps.

Danilo nodded almost instinctually, “Yes. Very, very ready.”

“Good,” she smiled seductively, “Enjoy.”

Ever so teasingly, Eloísa slowly pulled loose all of the straps before pulling the thick plate over her head.

Then, she reached down and unbuckled her belt, slowly loosening and unstrapping all the way from her leggings to her boots, before pulling out of all of those as well, leaving her in her underclothes.

She pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it away to the side, then she stepped out of her pants and kicks those in the other direction, leaving her in nothing but her tight undergarments, exposing so much of her body on their own.

The binds were the first to go, as she reached back and untied them, letting them slide off to reveal her plump, olive breasts hanging from her chest.

They looked so round and... fleshy. They were near impossible to describe. Her areolas were so extensive and dark, and the nipples in between them looked ten times the size of Danilo’s.

Then, she reached her thumbs into her lower undergarments and pushed them down, stepping out of them and kicking them away.

Danilo looked down at what was now out and present.

A little blonde bush traveled down her pelvis from her waist, and ended at the thick, pink lips that were embedded between her legs.

He took it all in as he saw it right from there. The lips of her vagina, shimmering with wetness, convoluting in all formations all around as she shifted on her feet, getting closer as she walked toward him.

“...Now, it’s your turn.”

Danilo was startled out of his trance as her olive hands came up to the ties of his shirt, unlacing them slowly, but at a faster pace than she had done for herself.

She lifted his shirt over his head, and let her hands roam down his bare chest. Danilo drank in the feeling of her soft little fingers caressing his bare skin.

Then, his breath stopped as she kneeled down in front of him, and started to undo his boots. Even through his layers, he could feel her hot breathing between his legs.

Then finally, she loosened them all the way off, and helped him to step out of them.

She stood back up, and his heart began to race as her hands finally reached to the laces of his pants, with what awaited her inside already clearly outlined in the tight, stretched leggings.

She unlaced them, and then impatiently dug her fingers past the pants and into his undergarments.

Altogether, she pulled it all down.

Now, he could really feel her breath. He felt it on him as she stared down at him, traveling down as she help him out of his pants.

And, there they were.

Wearing exactly what they wore on the days of their birth.

Absolutely nothing.

Eloísa reached up. Danilo felt as if time were slowing down as her hand traveled forward to touch his maleness.

And then, she touched it, and Danilo couldn’t hold back the gasp. He felt himself burning up inside as her soft fingers wrapped around him.

To return the favor, he too reached forward, slowly approaching until he finally reached his destination.

She gasped as his fingers slid downward, caressing around her female entrance, coating the tips with her hot wetness.

He then started to slide his one finger right in between, and started to poke at her blazing entrance...

...Then, she released his penis, and pushed his hand away.

“I think that’s enough preparation,” she smiled, “Now, let’s get to the real stuff...”

She backed up, pulling him along with her as they traveled to the bed.

This was it.

The moment he had been waiting for all night.

It was finally here.

It was finally happening.

They reached the bed.

Eloísa crawled into it, and Danilo watched as she slithered her way up to the pillows, then turned to lay on her back, spreading her legs out wide to give him a very inviting view.

Danilo got onto the bed after her, crawling up the sheets, and then her body, until he was face to face with the bicolored girl below him.

They gave each other a soft, lingering kiss, and then gave each other a silent, wordless look as Danilo sunk into position.

The head of Danilo’s penis poked the entrance of Eloísa’s vagina.

Eloísa’s head flew backward, and Danilo’s head fell forward, the pleasure clearly building up inside both of them.

Slowly, yet strongly, Danilo slid himself into her deep, tight, wet little hole.

Vaginas were an entire wonder of their own. To an inexperienced male, the femaleness may have appeared slippery and slimy. Something that a penis could accidentally slide right out of.

But, nothing could be further from the truth.

There were few things in the world that could rival the tightness and firmness of a girl’s vagina.

Danilo slide himself out to the tip.

Then, he pushed back inside, going even deeper with that thrust.

Eloísa started to gasp for breath to the edge of moans.

Danilo was going to make her moan.

He slid out to the tip again, and this time, thrust in harder, and much, much deeper.

“AH...” she finally relented with the pleasureful sound, “AH... AHH...”

Danilo thrust in again, and this time, he found his thighs hitting her, his entire dick fully seated inside her pussy, as she moaned loudly beneath him.

He pulled out and thrust back in.

Out again and in again.

Out and in.

Out and in.

“YES... YES... YESS...”

She was practically screaming under him now, and he was loving every second of it. Every single vowel that screeched out of her lips as he fucked her pussy raw.

Finally, her breathing pace got faster, her pussy got tighter, until finally she clenched around him.

“UHH...”

They rode through her orgasm together, until her body calmed back down.

That was one orgasm.

But, was Danilo done? Oh no.

He knew how girls worked. One orgasm was never enough. Kind of like a lot of boys, if they could get themselves up to it.

He was going to give this girl as many orgasms as she needed. He was going to make this a night to remember.

Besides, Danilo himself hadn’t cum yet. He still had a ways to go.

He continued to thrust in and out of her, giving her his gentleness and roughness wherever it was needed, until she finally started to tense up again.

“UNGH—!”

She clenched around him again.

When that one was done, he kept on going, until finally she clenched again.

“UNH—!... YES, DANILO...”

He kept up the process, on and on, and in the end, he had lost count of how many times she had clenched around him as the heat finally started to build up inside of him.

He thrust.

He thrust.

And then finally, he fell over the edge.

“GAHH...”

He shot his cum straight up into her, coming in spurts and spasms as he rode it through.

And with that, it was finally over.

Danilo pulled out, his dick practically soaking wet, and then collapsed onto the bed beside her.

They both just lay there panting for what felt like a thousand years, enjoying each other’s company in the silence after the stars.

“...You are amazing, Danilo Nazario.”

Danilo nodded, “You too, Eloísa Valenzuela. You too.”

***

Danilo was straightening up his shirt as he left the room, where he found Victor waiting outside with a smirk on his face.

“Sounded like you enjoyed yourselves.”

Danilo nodded, “We did. Very thoroughly. We would have invited you in sooner, but apparently I really did her out.”

“Sounded like it. One of your many desirable traits. Didn’t exactly do much for me though, all the way out here with this in my pants...”

He took Danilo’s hand and brought it to his crotch, wrapping it around the large, hot lump tucked inside.

Danilo smiled, “Well you know, you didn’t have to wait so long. You could have gone before me.”

“I wanted to give you this. You deserved it,” he smiled, “And, you can consider it a thank you gift for being such a wonderful paramour.”

“Aw. Well,” he shrugged, “You know you have nothing to thank me for. You know that I would follow you to the ends of the world, no matter what titles we may hold in regards to each other.”

“I know.”

Victor hugged him and gave him a sweet kiss on the lips.

“I love you, my darling Danilo. I really do.”

Danilo smiled happily, “I love you too, Victor. From now until forever.”

They pulled back and smiled into each other’s eyes.

Danilo was the luckiest person in the entire world. How a shy, simple baby son caught the loving attention of such a boy as Victor Loyola should have been impossible.

And yet it was possible, because it had happened.

There was truly someone for everybody.

“And besides,” Victor stated, “I can enjoy it a whole lot more, now that you already have.”

Danilo gave him a confused look, “How so?”

Victor bent forward and whispered warmly into his ear.

“I take great pleasure in the idea of sticking my dick into a hole that you’ve already stuck yours into.”

And for the trillionth time tonight, Danilo blushed.

Victor chuckled and kissed his cheek.

“I’ll see you later. Darling.”

He winked at him, then turned and entered the room, closing the door behind him.

Danilo smiled to himself as he heard Victor and Eloísa prepare for each other, and he himself took his own great pleasure in knowing the fact that they had succeeded.

Their deal had been struck.

Chapter Text

Eloísa was a walking stereotype to girls everywhere, and she didn’t give a fuck.

She loved pretty things, and she loved looking like a pretty thing. She loved things that shined and shimmered. She loved things that drew other people’s attention.

She loved being physically close with other people. She loved the feeling of other people’s body heat. Of their warm, smooth skin being pressed against her own.

She loved to be on the receiving end of everything sex-related. She loved being forced to submit. She loved being pinned down, a dominant partner on top of her and above her, ready to take her body and use her however was fit.

And, she absolutely loved getting penetrated.

She loved the feeling of being filled up. She loved the feeling of something being forced into her. She didn’t care which hole. And, she didn’t care by what. Anything she wanted could go up inside her. Objects. Toys. Tongues. Fingers. Dicks.

Dicks were a favorite. So hard and fleshy, smooth and hot. The boys that had them were always so naturally rough with their use of them, whenever they forced themselves into her, and Eloísa loved it.

It was a good thing Eloísa was the knight instead of the damsel in her story, otherwise she might have been disowned by the entire female population.

Of course, dicks weren’t always an option, like when she was doing it with herself or another girl. She liked girls just as much as boys, that wasn’t an issue. They really weren’t that different. The only difference was that girls tended to have better clothing, better hair, tits, and pussies instead of dicks.

Eloísa liked pussy too, oh did she ever like pussy. So tight and fleshy, deep and hot. Able to swallow up almost anything she put in it, just like her own. It was fun doing it with a body that she was familiar with sometimes. It was just that she couldn’t usually be penetrated with another pussy—except for that one time with Marina Del Mar, which had been quite an impressive feat—so that was where the fingers and tongues and toys came in.

Dicks were a favorite, but they weren’t the only option. Eloísa just loved being penetrated. That was all that mattered.

But for right now, she did have dicks to get penetrated by, because she was currently spending time with two boys who certainly knew how to use their dicks.

A little background. Eloísa’s maternal grandfather, Lord Virgilio Velasco, was going on some sort of undisclosed quest with Lady Marta Bello that would take them north of Ravarra. Nobody knew a thing about it, but it seemed like everybody around her was going. Her grandfather. Her Uncle Vito. Commander Fígaro. Even her brother, Erasmo.

Everyone except Eloísa.

Nobody would tell her where they were going. Nobody would tell her what they were doing. And, nobody would tell her why she couldn’t come.

Nobody would tell her anything.

Only that she had to stay behind.

And apparently, she wasn’t the only one being left out.

Her grandfather was going, and he was taking Commander Fígaro, his paramour. Uncle Vito, the Velasco heir, was also going, taking his paramour with him as well. Both of their wives had passed to the Kingdom Above, so that meant that they were leaving Uncle Vito’s sole daughter behind on her own. Eloísa’s cousin, Valencia.

And, House Bello would be in the same situation. Lady Marta was taking her husband and her paramour with her, and so would be leaving behind her sole son, Martín.

Valencia and Martín would be the heads of their Households with them gone. They had both turned thirteen only months ago. Just barely old enough to lead Houses on their own. Valencia could probably handle it. She was a fast learner and very astute. Martín, however, was the complete opposite. If he was being left in charge, he was definitely going to need help.

Eloísa didn’t envy either of them. She didn’t know how she would have handled being left to lead her entire House on her own.

But thankfully, she didn’t have to. In fact, while all of her superiors were gone, she was completely carefree. The only issue was what she was going to do in that free time.

But fortunately for her, these two boys had decided that for her.

Sir Victor Loyola and his paramour, Danilo Nazario.

The boys had approached her at the citadel banquet with a proposal. She would get to spend her time with them in exchange for permission to put their skillful dicks inside of her whenever they wanted.

Everybody wins.

After thoroughly testing their individual abilities with said dicks, Eloísa concluded that their proposal certainly would be as beneficial as they had claimed.

And so, she had agreed.

And after a couple days, she was still far from disappointed.

They were both very good in the bedroom. Both individually and altogether.

Sir Victor was—extremely—good at giving Eloísa what she wanted. She had told him that she liked it rough. So, he’d given it to her rough. Every time they fucked, she felt like he might rip her body in two, and she loved it. It was amazing how such a kind person could be so feral on command. It must have been the knight in him.

And, Danilo was by far one of the sweetest people that Eloísa had ever fucked. Every time they fucked, she would practically explode out of her body with pleasure. She could never keep track of how many orgasms he gave her. It was amazing how such a shy person could be so sexually marvelous. Not to mention, very irresistibly seductive. It must have been the dealer in him.

It was amazing how such a pair of opposites as them could be so perfect together.

And yet, it was true. They were perfect together.

And right then and there, Eloísa wouldn’t rather be in a sexual arrangement with anybody else.

***

“Take care of yourself, sweetheart.”

“I will,” Erasmo hugged her, “Thank you, Mother.”

Eloísa stood behind and waited with the rest of her siblings as her mother, Ventura, and her eldest sister, Elena, said their goodbyes to Erasmo.

Elena hugged him next, “Take care, little brother. Be safe out there.”

“I promise. And, you take care of yourselves here. Say your prayers.”

“We will.”

Their mother chuckled and touched his face, “My little boy is growing up too fast,” she kissed his cheek, “Say your farewells to your siblings. We’ll see you again to send you off.”

Their mother and Elena departed and joined their father and his paramour, Orlando Oriol, as they went to say goodbye to their grandfather and Uncle Vito, who were standing with their paramours, Commander Fígaro and Sorcerer Hilario.

Lele was the first to come up and hug him, “Be well, Raso.”

“And, you. I expect you to take care of everyone in my absence.”

“I think I can manage that. And, I expect you to care for everyone on your journey too,” she nodded over his shoulder, “Including them.”

They all turned and looked toward Lady Bello, who was standing with her husband, Lord Felix Fajardo Bello, and her paramour, Dame Viviana.

“I will do that,” Erasmo nodded, “You’ll be alright on your own?”

“I’ll manage. Perhaps I can get Roana to give me some time off—.”

SPLASH

Everyone turned.

Roana Del Mar was standing at the other end of the dock, her entire body soaked and her face a very girly expression of shock and anger as Marina and Amador ran away snickering.

“I JUST GOT MY HAIR DONE, YOU LITTLE INGRATES!!!”

Lele sighed, “On second thought, I’ll multitask,” she smiled apologetically, “Forgive me. I’ll see you at sendoff,” she hugged him one more time, and then rushed over to aid her lady.

Finally, he turned to her, “So, are you going to give me a hug?”

“Depends,” Eloísa stated, “Are you going to tell me what’s really going on?”

“No.”

“Then, you can forget about it.”

Erasmo smiled, “I suppose I deserve that. So,” his smile turned into a smirk, “Sir Victor and Danilo?”

“We’re having lots of fun,” Eloísa confirmed.

“I don’t doubt it. They seem like fun. I admit, I might be jealous.”

Eloísa raised an eyebrow, “Isn’t jealousy a sin?”

“Everyone is born a sinner,” he shrugged, “What’s another one to add to my judgement?”

Then, he turned to their littlest sibling.

“And speaking of judgement, since it’s just the three of us now, Mundi, what’s going on with you and the youngest Fajardo?”

Edmundo blushed, “N-nothing. We’re just spending time together, that’s all.”

“Doing what exactly...?”

“Just talking!”

“For now,” Eloísa chuckled.

Edmundo blushed harder.

Erasmo shook his head, “Well, whatever your intentions, Edmundo, be careful. If his mother is any indication, Fajardo’s are not to be trusted.”

“He’s not like her! Uh...”

He blushed again when he caught his outburst.

“Well, let’s hope you’re right.”

The two hugged.

“Go say goodbye to your grandfather.”

“Okay. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

They embraced one more time, and then Edmundo went off, leaving Eloísa and Erasmo alone.

“Do you think they’re really just talking?” Eloísa asked.

“For now, like you said,” he nodded, “But, it certainly won’t stay that way for long. Soon, they will inevitably start doing... boyish things.”

“Boyish things?”

He smiled, “Yes. Boyish things. You can ask your new lovers what that means.”

“Oh, I think I have some idea. I imagine it’s actually not that dissimilar to girlish things.”

“I suppose I wouldn’t know.”

The siblings chuckled together.

“Keep an eye on him when you can, will you?”

“Of course,” she turned to him, “And, you keep an eye on yourself.”

“Oh, you’re worried about me now?”

“Erasmo, I’m serious. Wherever you’re going... At least tell me, is it going to be very dangerous?”

Her brother was silent for a long moment.

“...Most likely, yes.”

Eloísa had figured as much.

“Just... be careful, alright?” She pleaded, “Remember what happened the last time a Valenzuela dove headfirst into danger...”

Actually, neither of them could remember.

Erardo, their second eldest sibling, had died before either of them had been born. Now, all they had of him were portraits, stories, and a nephew who was older than both of them—though Feliciano Mendoza certainly acted younger than both of them, that was for sure.

And, that was all they had of the brother they never knew.

Erasmo nodded slowly, “I know. I will. I promise.”

He placed his hands on her shoulders and affectionately kissed her forehead.

He was going to be okay, Eloísa had to believe that.

Because, if she didn’t believe even that, then there was nothing else worth believing.

***

Castle Nazario was quite a charming place. Elegant and refined, it had many similarities to most other Isla castles that Eloísa had seen, and yet it also stood out impressively for it’s extravagant and exorbitant-looking manner. She had a sneaking suspicion that those statuettes were pure gold. And, she didn’t even want to know what type of crystal was in those chandeliers.

And of course, wherever there were excessive displays of money, there were excessive people coming to bathe in it.

After the sendoff, Lord Nazario had opted to host another small banquet for the occasion. Although, ‘small,’ was hardly the word that Eloísa would have used.

Of course, there was Lord Nazario and his family—his wife, Amanda Peña, his heiress, Daniela, and then Dante, Dalia, and of course, Danilo—and all of the usual residents and patrons. And now, they were hosting all of the remaining nobility and all of their respective retinues.

Needless to say, Castle Nazario was a little bit crowded at the moment.

Eloísa shuffled her way around the room, exchanging pleasantries at every turn—including with two separate girls and a boy who all clearly wanted to fuck her. Maybe she would even let them too, Danilo and Sir Victor had said nothing about exclusivity—until she started to get low on wine and made her way over for a refill.

Thank God she was old enough for real drinks now, because she fully intended to have drunk sex with someone before the night was over.

But, Sir Victor and Danilo were nowhere to be found at the moment. Maybe she would find them later, but she had to take care of her needs now! Which meant that she was going to have to find someone else to have drunk sex with.

Once she got her refill, Eloísa turned to go and rejoin the festivities.

But instead, she almost collided with a girl in a blue dress.

“Mm!” Eloísa was careful not to spill her wine, “Pardon me...”

“Had a little much to drink there, huh, Eloísa?”

Eloísa looked up.

Oh.

The girl in the blue dress was Marina Del Mar.

“Heheh...” Eloísa giggled, “I sup-suppose I have...”

“Well, try to stay on your feet,” she chuckled.

Eloísa tried to nod, but that just made everything start spinning. When she stopped herself, she found her eyes locked onto Marina’s cleavage.

That definitely wasn’t an effect of the wine, Marina had some great tits. Those giant, bronze tits squeezed together in that tight dress. What Eloísa wouldn’t give to...

“Hey,” Eloísa pointed, “I know this might be a little unconventional, but... let’s be honest, you don’t care, heheh... I was thinking maybe we could go somewhere and have sex...?”

Marina was so fucking gorgeous, and Eloísa wanted her. She needed her right now. She needed to feel her tongue and teeth as she buried herself inside of her, she needed—.

“A tempting offer, but I think I’ll have to pass,” Marina stated, “I have a personal rule where I don’t fuck drunk girls unless I’m also drunk, so,” she shrugged, “sorry. Maybe next time.”

Damnit...

Goddamnit!

Just then, Marina’s twin bounded across the room to them, “She’s on the move!”

Marina turned back to her with a smile, “Though maybe you might be able to help us.”

“Help you...?”

“Yeah,” she continued to smile, “How about this? You help me, and I’ll give you a kiss.”

Ooh.

Eloísa could get behind that.

“Okay,” she nodded enthusiastically, ignoring the dizziness, “What do you need me to do?”

“Distraction work,” Marina explained, “Did you see that giant diamond that Lord Nazario gifted to my Aunt Roana?”

“Oh. Yeah,” Eloísa giggled, “Is he trying to get under her dress or what?”

Though, he could hardly be blamed, Roana Del Mar was ravishing. Lele was a lucky bitch.

“Undoubtedly,” Marina nodded, “Well, me and Amador intend to steal it...”

Eloísa jumped, “Marina! You naughty bitch!”

She shrugged, “Guilty as charged.”

“Am I going to get in trouble for helping you?”

“No. We’ll be doing all of the dirty work,” she explained, “I just need you to help Amador to distract her. She’ll be a lot more trusting if he isn’t coming to her alone.”

Eloísa supposed that made sense. She would have a hard time trusting them too if they played as many pranks on her as they did on Roana.

“Alright then,” Eloísa nodded. This didn’t sound so bad. “I’ll do it.”

“Marvelous. Now, here’s what you need to do...”

After they went through the plan, everyone got into their positions.

Roana was over there on the other side of the room, currently admiring said giant diamond. As Marina snuck away through the crowd, Eloísa followed Amador up to her.

He clasped his hands together, “Good evening, Aunt Roana.”

She didn’t look up, “What do you want, you little dick?”

“Why yes, I happen to like dick very much, thank you for asking.”

Heheh...

That was funny...

That earned him a small glare.

“...What do you want!?”

“Well,” he started, “Squire Eloísa and I got to talking, and we just couldn’t help wondering...”

He nodded to her.

That was her cue. Here we go.

“We simply had to know,” Eloísa stated, “Your clothing style. It’s always absolutely dashing. Where do you get your inspiration from?”

Roana beamed and instantly relaxed, as they had expected her to do. If there was one thing in the world that could always get the attention of Roana Del Mar, it was fashion.

“Well,” she smiled, “If you must know, I get my inspiration from a number of sources, I always make a point of keeping up to date with what’s in style and what’s not, in fact just the other day, I...”

As Roana continued to chatter, Eloísa finally spotted Marina sneaking through the crowd and up behind her.

She dug a hand into her thick cleavage, and gave Eloísa a gleaming yellow-eyed wink as she produced her obsidian wand...

SHPEW

“AH—!”

Roana shrieked as her dress flared up, and Amador took that moment to swipe the diamond right from her hands.

“Thanks, Auntie!” Amador waved at her, and then turned and sprinted away through the crowd.

“WHY YOU LITTLE—!”

Roana sprinted away after him. Marina rushed up to Eloísa, smiling widely.

She grabbed her face and roughly connected their lips. They kissed, long and hard and wet, until Marina pulled away, leaving them both panting.

“Thanks for the help. See you later!”

She gave her one last kiss on the cheek, and then darted off after her aunt and brother.

And, Eloísa was left there, giggling and drunk.

And, wet.

Really wet.

Marina certainly knew how to leave a girl craving more.

Now, she really needed to find someone to have sex with.

She downed her drink, and then wandered about the room a little bit more. The boys were still not present, but as the night went on, people started to get visibly hornier. Surely now, it would be much simpler to find someone to—.

Aha!

Perfect!

Eloísa spotted a handsome young squire around her age or younger in Loyola colors. He was clearly as drunk as she was.

And, he looked like he could certainly use a good time.

She made her way over to him, only getting wetter and wetter as she approached her goal.

“Good evening.”

He turned over to her, blinking a few times before acknowledging her.

“Oh,” he responded in a cute, drunken voice, “Good even—... evening.”

“Nice night, is it not?”

“Y-Yes... It is... very nice...” he tilted his head, “Do I... know you...?”

“Not likely. I’m Eloísa,” she introduced, “Squire Eloísa Valenzuela.”

He perked up somewhat at that and gave her a drunken salute, “It’s a pleasure, Squire Valenzuela.”

“Likewise. And, you are...?”

“Uhh... M-Moro,” he nodded, “Squire Moro.”

That was a cute name.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Squire Moro.”

“Yeah.”

She smiled and scooted closer to him, getting herself all situated in his space and body heat.

“Now, I know we just met, like, two seconds ago, Squire Moro,” she admitted, “But, I must say, I think you must be one of the handsomest boys in the room.”

He smiled at that, “R-Really?... You think so?”

“Definitely. Just looking at your face and your armor, and I’m already all tingly, so I was wondering,” she winked at him, “if you wanted to go somewhere and have sex...?”

Squire Moro chuckled drunkenly, “...Sure.”

Perfect!

Without another word, she grabbed him by a strap on his breastplate and pulled him with her out into the hall.

They staggered through the castle until they reached the guest quarters—obviously the best place in any castle to have sex—where they then found an empty room and pushed themselves inside.

She kissed him wetly as she pulled him toward the bed. Once she reached it, she collapsed on top of it, and Squire Moro followed by collapsing on top of her.

Eloísa’s breathing quickened as he started to grind himself against her. He kissed her harder and harder as he reached down to unbuckle his belt...

“Moro?”

Eloísa looked up.

Just then, a drunk, pretty girl also in Loyola armor stumbled into the room, stopping when she saw them.

“Oh,” she stated, “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were busy.”

Eloísa pushed herself up and got off the bed, “And, who is this lovely creature?”

“That’s my sister, Mara,” Moro stated.

That made sense. They did look somewhat alike.

Eloísa sauntered over and tangled a finger into the girl’s hair, “My apologies, Squire Mara, am I stealing your brother away from you?”

“No, it’s fine,” she giggled, “M-my fault for not minding my own business.”

“Oh, on the contrary,” Eloísa smiled, “What are you doing right now...?”

“N-nothing,” she stated, “If you two are going at it, I guess I should go and find someone to have sex with too. I can’t let my brother have all the fun.”

“I couldn’t agree more. But, you don’t have to go anywhere for that...”

She untangled her hand from her hair and used it to caress her pretty face...

“...Would you care to join us...?”

Squire Mara blinked a few times.

And then, she giggled, “...Okay.”

Wonderful!

This night just kept getting better and better!

Eloísa took her face and kissed her lips. Mara responded by fondling all across her body. Eloísa backed again toward the bed, being met by Moro again from behind.

“Mmm,” Squire Mara smiled, “How would you like it?”

Eloísa looked between the two of them.

“...Would it be too much if I asked you to make out with each other?”

“Ew!”

“We’re not that drunk!”

Eloísa sighed, “It was worth a try. Very well, then in that case...”

She collapsed back onto the bed.

“...Have at me!”

Eloísa ended up having the best drunk sex in her life with Squires Mara and Moro.

And by the time Danilo and Sir Victor finally showed up, Eloísa was already done out.

***

The days and weeks went by, and all the while, Eloísa’s sexual exploits with the boys continued to be amazing. Looking back at it now, she couldn’t think of anything she would have rather chosen as the perfect distraction from reality.

But unfortunately, reality continued to exist outside of the bedchamber.

And one day, she was finally reminded of that.

In the absolute ugliest of ways.

She was sucking and sucking on Danilo’s cock as he squirmed above her, until he finally shot down her throat.

She licked her lips as she sat up, turning in the other direction to face Sir Victor.

“Ready, Sir?”

He smiled his charming smile as he scooted forward, “Always.”

She smiled and scooted over to meet him. She kissed him, caressing his naked body as it started to get harder.

Then, he grabbed her roughly and threw her on her back in the bedsheets.

“Bad girl...” he nodded to Danilo, “Hold her down.”

Danilo came up behind her head and grabbed her arms, restraining them above her head.

“You’ve been a bad, bad girl, Squire...” he taunted as he spread her legs, “Looks like you’re going to have to be punished...”

Eloísa started to pant harder on instinct as he crawled between her legs, grabbing her waist as he lined himself up.

Then, he surged forward into her, and she couldn’t help the cry that escaped her lips.

“AHH—!”

She involuntarily squirmed as he continued to fuck her violently, giving her everything and more as she remained helpless against them.

Danilo released her arms as Sir Victor pulled her up from the bed and dropped her into his lap, all without ever removing his dick from her pussy.

She wrapped her arms around him as he continued to thrust up into her, and then from behind her, she felt Danilo’s hands grab on to steady her as he pressed himself against her second hole.

He thrusted up into her in tune with his liege, and Eloísa let out a loud moan at the feel of being filled up from both ends.

Everyone panted and moaned as all three of them fucked, fucked, fucked until they were all cumming in a haze of ecstasy.

When they were done, they all leaned against each other for support.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

They all looked toward the door at the sound of knocking.

“...Yes?” Danilo called.

“A message for Squire Valenzuela,” a servant answered, “She is being summoned to the main hall on a matter of the utmost urgency.”

What?

What the hell?

For her?

They all looked at each other.

“We’ll be right out,” Sir Victor called back.

What the hell was all this about?

Well, she supposed they would find out soon enough.

The three of them cleaned up and got dressed, then proceeded out and headed toward the main hall.

As soon as they entered, Eloísa was bombarded with sympathetic looks from everyone in the room.

Alright, now this was getting odd. What the actual fuck was going on?

She spotted the Lord and Lady Nazario at the center of the room, conversing with a couple of people.

Eloísa made her way over to them. Once she approached, they all turned to her.

Oh.

“Wizard Ramon.”

The people that the Nazario’s had been speaking to were Wizard Ramon Del Mar and a couple of other wizardesses. The man’s naturally-tired eyes were tinged with a slight look of sadness.

“Squire Eloísa,” he greeted, “I’m sorry to come to you with unfortunate news. Your family is just hearing the news as well.”

“What’s...” she asked, “going on?”

“Something’s happened. I advise you to brace yourself, this is going to be very hard to hear...”

He looked down at the ground for a moment, then back up at her.

“...The ship carrying Lord Velasco and Lady Bello and their attendants. It washed up in the Principality of Rueno a few days ago.”

Eloísa’s heart nearly stopped.

She... She couldn’t have heard that right.

“W-What do you mean...” she asked, “‘...washed up?’”

“It means exactly what it sounds like. No one knows what happened. It was found in that state. And, as for it’s passengers...”

He bit his lip, the sympathetic look never leaving his face.

“...I’m afraid there were no survivors. Lord Virgilio and Vito Velasco were found murdered along with the rest of the crew.”

...

...

...

...No.

No, no, no!

“They have passed to the Kingdom Above. I’m so sorry, Eloísa...”

This couldn’t be happening!...

How could something like this happen!?...

How could...?

Eloísa took great efforts to steady her breathing.

“...And,” her voice broke, “m-my brother...?”

Eloísa didn’t know if she could bare to hear it...

What had happened to him?...

Oh, Erasmo...

“...I’m sorry?”

Eloísa paused.

She looked up at Wizard Ramon.

His face now had on a look of... confusion.

“My... My brother,” she stated, “Sorcerer Erasmo. Is he... Did he share their fate...?”

Wizard Ramon looked between his companions. They all looked just as confused as him.

“...I’m...” he finally answered, “My apologies, Squire Eloísa, I was not aware that your brother was present on their quest... No body matching his description was found.”

...What!?

One of the wizardesses spoke to Wizard Ramon.

“That is suspicious, though. There were indeed reports that Sorcerer Erasmo Valenzuela was to be present in the voyage. Lady Bello and Vito Velasco’s paramours were also reported to have joined, though neither of their bodies were found either.”

Everyone was looking at each other now.

“...Perhaps their bodies fell from the ship?” Lady Amanda suggested.

Wizard Ramon shook his head, “They would have likely washed up alongside the ship as well. And, Rueno’s navy did a thorough search of their surrounding waters. No other bodies were found.”

“But,” Lord Dario asked, “what does that mean?”

“...I wish I knew.”

This was all too much to process.

Too much...

Too many people...

“Excuse me,” Eloísa apologized, “I need some air.”

She shouldered her way out of the room and left to find the nearest balcony.

***

Eloísa looked out across the sky as the sun began to set.

She contemplated. On this life and the next. On what had happened, might have happened, was happening, and would happen. She contemplated the path ahead. For her family and for her.

And, she made her decision.

She heard two pairs of footsteps approaching from behind her.

She turned to see Sir Victor and Danilo with those same sympathetic looks that everyone seemed to have for her.

She smiled thinly and turned back to the orange sky, “Nice night, isn’t it?”

“Eloísa...” Danilo started, “We’re sorry about—.”

“Don’t,” she shook her head, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

She didn’t want sympathy right now. It was the last thing she needed.

“Alright,” Sir Victor agreed, “If that’s what you want. But, you should know. Our parents have made... decisions for us.”

She turned back and looked at them questioningly.

“Due to recent... events, my father is worried for my family’s safety,” Danilo explained, “And, Victor’s concurs. Their sending the two of us to the mainland. To be under the protection of my grandfather, the Lord Peña.”

Huh.

Eloísa hoped that was a good idea.

“My father wants me to choose some knights to accompany me,” Sir Victor stated, “For protection. I was thinking of asking you... I know your commander was on the voyage...”

Eloísa turned back once again to the sky, “He was...”

Commander Fígaro...

A legendary fighter with a complicated background.

And now, that’s all he was...

Legend...

“I was thinking,” he continued, “that, since he is gone... I could take you as my squire. I would never seek to replace him, but... I’ll be there for you, however you need it.”

Eloísa couldn’t help the smile that came to her face.

“You’re sweet. Thank you... but no.”

They were silent at that.

“If you need knights, I would suggest those twin squires from the banquet,” Eloísa remembered, “Mara and Moro. They’re good at a lot of things.”

The boys continued to remain silent.

“...But, what about you?” Danilo finally asked.

“I have somewhere else to be.”

She continued to stare at the stars of the growing night, fully confident in her decision.

“Before he left,” she explained, “We all promised Erasmo that we would look out for each other. And, he promised me that he would look out for himself. We all held up our ends of the bargain. But, I have no idea if he did the same... And, there is only one way to find out.”

She nodded. To herself, and to whomever she needed to hear her message.

“My brother is still alive. He’s still out there, I know it. And, I’m going to find him.”

***

“Be safe, sweetheart,” her mother cried, “Please, be safe.”

It felt like only yesterday that Eloísa was standing on this very dock, conveying the very same message.

But now, the tides were turned, with a much sadder undertone.

But also, one of confidence.

“I will,” she stated, “I promise, Mother. I will.”

Her mother pulled back and wiped her eyes, then placed her hands on her shoulders.

“Find your brother. And, if you find whoever is responsible for this... show them what happens when one awakens the wrath of the sun of House Valenzuela.”

Eloísa fully intended to.

They nodded in agreement with each other, then her mother backed up. Lele came up next.

“Lisa...”

“I know,” Eloísa nodded, “I know. Take care of everyone here. And, be sure to watch over the new Lady Velasco.”

Valencia was on her own now. And, so was the new Lord Bello.

They were both going to need all the help they could get.

“I will. And, watch over yourself, Lisa. Please,” she stated, “Fiera Fajardo is Emissary in Rueno. She may show you sympathy for our shared losses, but the chances of her helping you are very slim. She is not to be trusted... You will be alone out there.”

Oh, she knew.

But, nothing was going to stop her.

“Noted. And, Lele,” she nodded, “I’m serious about watching over everyone here. Until I get Erasmo back, that is your job. And, I may need your help.”

She placed her hands on her sister’s shoulders.

“I need you to be my eyes and ears here at home. Whatever happens, whatever events, suspicions, whatever, I need to know. And, I need you to report to me as frequently as possible.”

Eloísa wasn’t convinced that there were no dirty hands here on the Isla.

Someone clearly knew about this quest.

And, someone needed them silenced for it.

And, Eloísa needed to find out who, how, and why.

“I will. I promise.”

The two of them clasped hands.

“Be safe, sister.”

“Be safe.”

They hugged. And then, Eloísa turned to her last sibling. Her little brother.

“Edmundo—.”

She was cut off as he ran into her arms.

“Please be okay!” He cried, “Bring Erasmo back if you can, but please, please be okay!... I cannot lose you too!”

Eloísa sighed.

She wrapped him in her arms, “I will be. You have my word.”

They held each other for a long time, and then Edmundo pulled back, wiping at his eyes.

“I...” he stated, “I want to talk to you about something. About... boyish things.”

...Oh.

“Excuse us,” Eloísa told her family.

They departed from them and Eloísa pulled her little brother to the side.

“What is it?” She asked.

“Umm,” Edmundo played with his hands, “Franco wants to meet up with me alone in a couple of days. To share solace for our respective losses.”

The Fajardo’s had lost too. Lady Bello’s husband had been Lady Fajardo’s brother.

“Well, that’s very nice of him.”

Edmundo nodded slowly, “Do you... Do you also think I shouldn’t trust him? Like Erasmo did?”

“...Well, what do you think?”

Edmundo looked down as if in thought.

“...I do trust him. I do. But...” he admitted, “Everyone else says that I’m not thinking with my head when I spend time with him. They say that I’m thinking with my... uhh...”

Eloísa rubbed his shoulder, “But, you do trust him. And, I believe that you should trust your instincts.”

Edmundo nodded, “Okay.”

“Now,” she stated, “be honest with me... What’s going on between you two?”

He blushed at that, “We’re... very good friends.”

Eloísa nodded, “And, how do you really feel...?”

Edmundo looked at her. They just locked eyes for a long few seconds.

“...I like him,” he finally admitted, “I really... really like him. So much.”

Eloísa nodded again, “I see.”

Edmundo looked like he was going to cry again.

“I... I wish I could tell him... But, nobody wants us to be together. The whole world wants us to stay apart. I don’t... I don’t know what to do.”

Eloísa sighed.

She looked around, then cupped his chin and brought him up to face her.

“Never let anybody else define who you should be attracted to. If you really like him... If you really like each other... then go for it.”

Edmundo stared. Then, he teared up and nodded.

“Okay!” His little voice cracked.

They hugged again, then looked at each other one more time.

“Be safe!”

Eloísa nodded slowly, “I know. I will. I promise.”

She placed her hands on his shoulders and affectionately kissed his forehead.

She was going to be okay, Eloísa had to believe that. They were all going to be okay.

Because, if she didn’t believe even that, then there was nothing else worth believing.

Chapter Text

Edmundo had no idea how any of this could happen.

Before, everything had just been going about as usual, and then all of the sudden, the news came, and then everything collapsed.

His grandfather was dead.

His uncle was dead.

His brother was missing.

And, his sister had went off to find him.

Everyone else in his family had their own roles to play. His father and his eldest sister kept the peace. His mother mourned. His cousin gathered the shattered pieces of her House. And, his last sister kept an eye on all of them.

But, Edmundo... Edmundo had nothing.

His only job was to stay alive and stay safe.

And, that was why his father had gotten him a position as a manservant in the Del Mar citadel. Right now, it was probably the safest place on the Isla for him to be.

“I’m sorry about your grandfather and uncle.”

But right now, he wasn’t in the citadel.

He was in the hilly palm forest, sharing solace with the one person in the world whom he probably should have avoided, but couldn’t possibly stay away from.

Franco Fajardo.

“Thank you. I’m sorry about your aunt and uncle.”

“Thank you.”

Franco’s aunt and uncle, the Lady Bello and her husband, had been with Edmundo’s grandfather on their quest. They had died alongside them.

Edmundo knew he shouldn’t have been spending time with Franco at all. He was a Fajardo. Their parents were bitter rivals.

But, he couldn’t help himself. Franco... He really... really liked Franco. He really, really did. And before she’d left, Eloísa had told him that if he liked him, then he should be with him.

Edmundo did like him.

So, here he was.

With him.

“How have you been holding up?”

“Okay,” Franco shrugged, “I wasn’t... overly close with my aunt and uncle, but... they were still my family. You know?”

“I do.”

He nodded, “What about you? How are you doing?”

Edmundo looked down at the ground, “It’s been hard. I wasn’t overly close with my grandfather and uncle either, but... I was close enough. And, on top of that... my brother...”

“Do you really think he’s still alive?”

Edmundo shrugged, “Eloísa does. Which, I guess, is why she left. I’d like to believe she’s right,” he turned to him, “Your sister is in Rueno, right?”

Fiera Fajardo was the Emissary in the Principality of Rueno, where the ship had been found.

“She is,” he nodded, “They said she was traumatized when they found the bodies...”

Edmundo didn’t doubt it...

“Do you think,” he asked, “that she might help my sister? If she needs it?”

Everyone seemed to think not, but Franco would know his sister better than anyone.

Franco looked down, and then he shook his head.

“No. I don’t think so.”

“...Oh.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Saying nothing. Just taking comfort in each other’s presences.

“...Your father got you a job in the citadel?” Franco finally asked.

“He did,” Edmundo confirmed, “Lele helped to recommend me. They all think it’s the safest place for me to be.”

Franco nodded, “My mother is the same. She wants me someplace safe, like the citadel. But, I don’t know if anyone would listen to her...”

“I’m sorry.”

It made sense. Lots of people resented Lady Fajardo. She was always trying to make connections wherever she could, but it only ever worked out for her some of the time. People disliked her for various, from the fact that she was often critical to the discriminatory fact that her husband, Lupo, was a common-born knight. Needless to say, Franco didn’t have it easy.

“It’s okay.”

Franco looked up at him, their eyes locking onto each other’s.

“Do... Do you think you could recommend me?” He asked, “So, that I could be a citadel manservant too?”

“I...”

“It’s...” he admitted, “It’s okay if you can’t. But, it would make my mother happy. And, maybe... maybe if we were in the same place, then... we could see more of each other...”

Edmundo’s heart started to race.

They both looked away for a moment, faces blushing.

And then, they looked back at each other.

Into each other’s eyes.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot...” Franco admitted, “I know I should have been dealing with my own losses, but... all I could think about was... how worried I was for you...”

“Franco...”

“Nobody...” he shook his head slowly, “Nobody wants us to be around each other. Not your family, not my family... It’s as if the whole world is working against us...”

“And yet...” Edmundo finished, “we can’t stay away from each other... no matter how hard we try...”

“Yeah...”

Edmundo took in his face. His gaze traveled down from his eyes to his nose and, finally, to his lips.

“Franco...” Edmundo breathed, “I think about you... constantly... Now especially, but even beforehand... I couldn’t get my mind off of you...”

“I... I feel the same way...”

The lips started to get even closer...

“Franco... What I’m trying to say is... I like you... Like, I really like you...”

“I like you too...”

“I really, really like you... I wake up every morning wanting to spend the entire day with you... And... And, when the sun sets...”

“...I want to spend the entire night with you...”

Now, they were there.

Their lips only inches apart.

“I like you...”

“I like you...”

And finally, their lips connected.

They kissed. For a long time, they just sat there. Kissing.

It felt like something that had been coming for an eternity.

And, they were both so glad that it was finally here.

When they inevitably retracted, they simply stared at each other.

Stared into each other’s eyes.

RUSTLE

They both looked up.

That rustle had come from further down the hill.

The sound was followed by light giggling. And, a short moan.

The boys looked at each other, then both proceeded to quietly crawl down the hill.

Once they reached the source of the sounds, they found a bush big enough to hide both of them behind and crawled into it. Then, they both looked up.

Down the hill a little ways were two common girls. A few years older than the two of them. And, they had their hands all over each other.

One of the girls pulled the other into a deep kiss.

Edmundo sat down in a comfortable position as Franco did the same beside him.

The girls continued to kiss and grab at each other.

One of them grabbed the other’s gown and helped to lift it over and off of her, revealing her naked body.

Edmundo heard the fiddling of fabric beside him. He turned to see Franco unlacing his pants. Without a second thought, Edmundo turned back to the girls and lifted his hands up to do the same.

The other one’s gown was pulled off of her, and now they were both naked. They kissed again, and then one started to push the other onto the ground.

Edmundo pulled his dick out of his pants, already hard and hurting, and started to stroke himself.

The girl on the bottom breathed in heavily as the one on top started to caress the sparkling wetness between her legs.

Edmundo started to stroke himself faster, struggling not to make any noise as he continued to pleasure himself.

The girl on top crawled in between the other’s legs. Their girl parts connected. They started to go up and down, panting and moaning, as their breasts started to bounce.

Edmundo was all but yanking himself now. Watching on as he yanked and yanked and yanked.

And then, he heard breathing beside him.

He turned, and his gaze landed on the first thing that caught his eye.

Franco was pleasuring himself too. His bronze dick was out, bobbing all over the place as Franco tugged and pulled.

Almost instinctively, Edmundo released his own dick, and then reached over...

...And, touched Franco’s.

Franco’s breathing stopped.

He looked down at the new hand on his boyhood, and then up again into Edmundo’s face.

He released his dick, and then reached over for Edmundo’s.

His hand wrapped around it, and then Edmundo’s wrapped around his.

They started to stroke each other, which quickly turned into more tugging and yanking.

Now, they were really fighting to keep quiet. The pleasure was so overwhelming for both of them. That, right then, was the best moment of both of their lives.

They continued to pleasure each other. The heat rose inside their bellies...

...And then, it exploded over, the results coming in the form of two separate spouts squirting into the bush in front of them.

They both sat there and panted quietly, both reluctant to release their grips as they looked into each other’s eyes.

“...I’ll get you that job in the citadel,” he whispered.

Franco smiled at him, “Thank you, Edmundo.”

And then, they kissed again.

Neither of them knew how long they ended up sitting there together behind that bush, but it didn’t matter.

What mattered was that they were there for each other, they cared for each other, they took pleasure in each other, and in their shared solace.

Chapter Text

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see,” Sandro stated as he led him through the Palace.

Esteban had no idea what was going on.

Only a moment ago, he had been spending time with his Mami in the throne room, and she had been talking to him about boring stuff like responsibilities and growing up—which Esteban hadn’t been paying much attention to. He had been too busy playing with his cats and toys, because those were obviously more important than, ‘etiquette,’ or, ‘diplomacy,’ or whatever else she had been talking about, because that was all he could remember.

And then, she’d sent him away, and now Sandro was taking him somewhere and refusing to tell him anything about it.

High Sir Sandro Carrera was a Royal Guard, and Esteban’s personal bodyguard. He was a noble from right here in the capital, the Ciudad Del Fundador, and his Mami was the Lady of the thoroughfare, the city’s main road. He had been best friends with Esteban’s Mami since they were children, and he had been guarding Esteban for as long as he could remember.

Esteban had to be guarded everyday, everywhere he went, because he was important. He was the Crown Prince of Ravarra, which meant that he would one day succeed his Mami, and become the King of all civilization on the continent—which wasn’t actually as impressive as it sounded, because according to the books that they made Esteban read, civilization only took up about a third of the continent, while the other two thirds were populated by wild beasts.

Maybe when Esteban became King, he could go out and tame all the wild beasts and help civilization grow out so that he could become King of the entire continent!

But for right now, he was still just the Prince, and his Mami was the Queen.

And, Sandro was still his bodyguard.

And, Esteban still didn’t know what was going on.

Sandro continued to lead him through the Founder’s Palace. Esteban had lived here his whole life, so he knew where everything was. The route that they were taking could take them to a number of places. The kitchens, the stables, the servant’s quarters—.

But then, Sandro veered down another hallway, and Esteban got confused.

“Why are we going this way?” Esteban asked.

“You’ll see,” Sandro repeated.

Was, ‘You’ll see,’ the only phrase he knew?

Esteban had always thought he was stupid, but this was a new low, even for him.

But, it wasn’t like Esteban could just turn and leave. He would find him eventually and pester him until he followed him back. So, he continued to stay on course. Wherever the course was leading him.

But, considering it was this very hall, Esteban had an idea of where they were going. ‘Why,’ was another question entirely.

Finally, they reached their destination, just as Esteban had predicted.

It was the Royal Guard training room. This was where the Royal Guards went to practice their knightly skills. Esteban liked to sneak down here sometimes to watch them train. Well, the male ones, at least.

Sandro led him inside, where two Guards were training in the middle of the room.

“Clear the floor, boys,” Sandro called.

It was High Sirs Tomas Rosales and Santiago Fuentes. They were both nobles from the Llanura De Rosas.

High Sir Tomas was the younger twin of Lord Rosales, and he was fat, like him, but a different kind of fat. Lord Rosales was the kind of fat person that would just sit around eating and giving out orders to people. High Sir Tomas was the kind of fat person who could lead a battlefield charge and pummel three people at once.

High Sir Santiago was the newest of the Guards, and he was also the youngest by far. He was only a few years older than Esteban, and Esteban found him the most attractive, because he had a cute face and a nice butt.

The two Guards saluted to Esteban, and went to the benches on the other side of the room.

Esteban turned back to Sandro, who retrieved a wooden training sword and was weighing it in his hand.

“Why are we here, Sandro?”

“To prepare you for the next stage of your life.”

Sandro crossed to the middle of the room, swinging the wooden sword around as he did.

“What does that mean?”

“It means what it means... Crown Prince Esteban of House Reyes.”

“That’s me...”

“Future Reigning King of Ravarra.”

He pointed the sword at him.

“Next week is the thirteenth anniversary of your birth.”

“...Y-Yeah, it’s called a birthday.”

Did they not celebrate those on the thoroughfare?

“Pay attention, Your Grace,” he stated, “In a few days, you will be setting sail north, for your official coronation as Crown Prince of Rueno, which will solidify your stance as the future King of Ravarra.”

Esteban didn’t understand why he needed an, ‘official coronation,’ it wasn’t like the Crown was going to anybody else.

“What does that have to do with us being here?” He asked instead.

Sandro waved the sword around again.

“It means that, before you know it, you will be eligible to become King in your own right should something happen to your mother. No regents, no advisors, just you and the Throne, making all the decisions by yourself.”

Well, when he put it like that, it sounded scary.

Maybe there was some sort of magic spell or something to make him stay twelve forever...

“Rueno and the Lordship of Belatierra will prepare you for that. You will have your viceroyalties to advise you, but ultimately all the decision-making will be up to you. You are growing up, Your Grace. From now on, every step you take brings you closer and closer to maturity... And, that is why I have brought you here.”

He pointed the sword at him again.

“You are a Prince, and someday you shall be a King. Mature Princes do not hide behind their walls and Guards. It is time for you to take the lead.”

He used the sword to poke at the little wooden knight in Esteban’s hand.

“And, first things first, you’re far too old to be playing with dolls.”

Esteban scowled at him, “It’s a figurine!”

“It’s a toy,” he stated, “It’s time for you to put down your toys, Your Grace, and time for you to pick up your weapons.”

Esteban looked around the room, “So, that’s why you brought me here? To... train? To learn how to fight?”

“That is correct, Your Grace,” he nodded, “A Prince should have the body of the knights that surround him. Your mother went through this exact stage when she was your age. And now, it is your turn.”

He pointed at the rack of training swords.

“Now, go pick a blade.”

Esteban walked over to the rack, hugging the knight figurine to his chest.

“Step to it, Your Grace.”

“I... think I’d be better with a bow.”

Esteban had always been good with a bow, and a crossbow, and anything that shoots. Everyone always told him he had good aim, which Esteban liked hearing, because it sounded like something else that his cousin, Amador, had taught him that was funny.

“I know you would, Your Grace. You have excellent aim,” he stated, forcing Esteban to hide a snicker, “But, a bow can only help you from a distance. It’s time for you and danger to get up close and personal. Now, pick up a blade.”

Esteban placed his wooden knight on the floor, and looked over the blades. He picked one at random, because they all looked the same, and weighed it in his hands. It was heavier than it looked.

“Good,” Sandro stated, “Now, come.”

Esteban headed back to the fluffy-floored center of the room where Sandro stood.

Sandro raised his blade, “Now, into position.”

Esteban paused for a moment. He wasn’t entirely sure what that meant. He raised his blade and tried to get into a fighting stance.

When he got it wrong, Sandro stood down and helped him get into a proper stance, then got back into his own position.

He nodded, “Your move.”

Okay...

This didn’t seem too hard.

They circled each other for a few seconds.

Then, Esteban raised his sword and rushed him.

“Ya!”

Sandro blocked, and pushed him back.

“No,” he shook his head, “Again.”

Esteban got back into stance. He rushed him again. He swung. Sandro blocked a couple times, then pushed him back again.

“I saw that one coming a kilometer away. Again.”

Now, Esteban was starting to get annoyed.

Esteban rushed back, swinging and hitting, and Sandro blocked all of it as if it were nothing.

“OOF—!”

Esteban grunted as he was knocked off his feet.

The fluffy carpeting suppressed his fall, but it still knocked the wind out of him.

Sandro poked his arm with the sword.

“Get up. You can sleep later. Now, we fight.”

Esteban scowled as he pushed himself to his feet.

He attacked again, and Sandro blocked him again and again.

“UGH—!” Esteban grunted as he was knocked to the ground again.

“Get off your back, Your Grace. This is a Palace, not a brothel.”

Now, that made Esteban really annoyed.

He pushed himself back to his feet, and ran to attack again. Swing, hit, block, block, and then there he was, on the ground again.

“You seem to have a penchant for laying on your back, Your Grace,” Sandro accused, “I thought I was training a Prince, not a red light district tavern whore.”

Now, Esteban was just mad.

He was the Crown Prince of Ravarra. This man had no right to talk to him that way, no matter who he was to him.

Esteban should’ve had him thrown in the dungeon or something.

“Hey,” High Sir Santiago called, “Go easy on him, Sandro.”

“Hear that, Your Grace?” Sandro taunted, “Sounds like Iago wants to pay for your bedding services.”

“Wha—? Hey!”

Esteban felt his face heat up. He had forgotten that he was there.

Esteban may have had a bit of a crush on High Sir Santiago, enough of one for it to be embarrassing to be seen and talked about in such a weak position. Esteban hoped he didn’t think he was weak...

“When it’s your turn to train him, Iago, you can go as easy on him as you want,” Sandro poked Esteban, “Now, get off your back.”

Esteban pushed himself to his feet. Sandro was really looking to get his butt kicked right now, and clearly Esteban was the only one to do it. He raised his blade, got into position, and attacked again.

He made a little more progress this time. He managed to push Sandro back a few steps, and even almost caught him off guard at one point.

But eventually, Esteban messed up again, and was once again knocked to the ground.

“Agh!” Esteban growled and started seething.

“Shall I fetch my coin purse?” Sandro taunted above him, “Or, are you one of those dumbass whores that winds up with their throat slit in a filthy, shit-covered alley?”

“I’m not a whore!”

“Then, get up off your back.”

***

And, that was how it started.

After his Princely coronation, Esteban began to practice regularly with Sandro and the other Guards. And as time went by, he started to get good. Really good.

And by the end of that year, he had grown to become formidable in his own right.

The years went by, and Esteban continued to practice and train. Esteban was starting to look like a true warrior. His strength was his offense. His will was his defense. And, his dominance was his all.

He was no longer a tiny child who cowered like a bitch at the first sign of trouble. He was no longer looked down upon like some insignificant nobody. And, he was certainly never put on his back ever again like some defenseless tavern whore.

Esteban was a Prince. The rightful heir to the greatest monarchy to ever exist in the known world. A boy, slowly turning into a man, fit to be a King.

But, he wasn’t perfect.

And at one point, he fucked up.

And, that fuck-up cost him Sandro’s life, his own freedom, and the peace and stability of the entire Kingdom.

Suddenly, it was as if everybody thought of him as a tavern whore again. And, one that everybody wanted a piece of. Rough hands groping here and there all over his body, it was a wonder nobody ever succeeded. Esteban had started to give up.

But in the end, his hope was restored, and all of the trials and tribulations that he had been forced to endure were all made worth it.

Because, that was when he’d met Victor.

A lowborn, bicolored Río boy sent by holy prophecy to rescue him with a magic sword and a fiery passion.

And of course, the most beautiful eyes to ever exist.

Esteban had fallen in love with him instantly. And if he wasn’t mistaken, Victor had done the same with him. Everything had gone so fast after that. It was a common Reyes weakness, falling in love far too soon.

But luckily for him, it was a weakness that Victor shared.

***

“Victor... ACK—!”

Esteban shouted as he came, the world turning white as he began spurting in spasms, filling up the tight little asshole of his lover beneath him.

As he finished his release, the whiteness started to recede, and his muscles started to soften as the weight of the world started to pull him down. Esteban let it.

“Ohh, Victor!” Esteban gasped as he collapsed on top of him, trying and failing to catch his breath, “Santana la Luz... That was amazing! This feeling... The way you make me feel... There aren’t words to describe it!”

That had been the greatest experience of his entire fucking life!

“There are,” Victor panted below him, gorgeous eyes visibly exhausted even in this darkness, “Three of them, to be exact.”

Esteban laughed at that. Of course there were. Three very accurate words.

He kissed him, “I love you. Valorous Victor.”

“I love you too. Benevolent Esteban.”

Esteban felt a pang in his chest at that, briefly reminded of the argument that had led to this intimate moment, but he forced it down.

They did love each other. Esteban loved Victor, and Victor loved Esteban.

Esteban was going to spend the rest of his life proving that. Tonight was just the beginning. There would be so many, oh so many more nights like this to come.

He didn’t care who knew. He didn’t care who disapproved. Fuck them all to hell.

Victor was the love of Esteban’s life.

He belonged to nobody but Esteban.

He was...

“My grandmother’s going to spank us,” Esteban realized out loud.

Victor laughed, “How is she going to know?”

“She’s the smartest person in the Kingdom. She’ll know.”

God, that was going to be awkward...

“She’ll spank you. I’ll make a point of staying away when she attacks.”

Esteban snorted at that, “No the fuck you won’t!” He leaned down and started to nibble on Victor’s delicious little earlobe, “You’re mine now. I’m going to use you however I want. If I’m getting spanked, you’re getting it with me!”

Esteban breathed into his ear, and started to feel both himself and Victor start to harden once again.

“You’re all mine now, you commoner bitch!”

Victor gasped at that, and Esteban fought back the urge to gobble him up right there.

Victor was all his.

He belonged to him.

His body, his dick, his butt, his eyes... all of it belonged to Esteban.

He could do whatever the fuck he wanted to his little common lover. Because, he was the big, strong, dominant Prince that he was always meant to be, and Victor was his tiny, submissive butt-boy, ever at his superior’s side. Underneath his superior’s body. Legs ever spread and asshole ever present for his superior to fuck as he pleased.

He could do whatever he fucking wanted with him. He could kiss him whenever he wanted. Touch him wherever he wanted. Fuck him however he wanted.

He could...

“Come on,” Esteban suddenly decided, flipping them over so that Victor was on top, “You’re still mine, but I’ll play fair. Besides, you seemed to be enjoying it very much,” he reached back and spanked Victor’s perfect ass, “Give it to me!”

There had to be something to this butt-stuff. Especially with the faces and noises that Victor had been making.

“As you wish, my Prince.”

He brought up his fingers and poked them at Esteban’s lips.

“Open.”

Esteban gave Victor’s three fingers a good, thorough sucking, just like he’d done for him before.

“I think that should be enough,” Victor stated as he pulled them back, “Should I...?”

“Yes,” Esteban nodded, “Do it. Your Prince commands it.”

Victor bit back a smile, and slowly started to lower his fingers down.

Esteban lay his head back, and prepared for whatever sensation would come from this. Prepared for—.

‘Get off your back, Your Grace. This is a Palace, not a brothel.’ Sandro had said.

Esteban’s eyes shot open.

He looked down at Victor, whose fingers were coming closer and closer to Esteban’s hole below him.

‘You seem to have a penchant for laying on your back, Your Grace,’ Sandro had said, ‘I thought I was training a Prince, not a red light district tavern whore.’

No.

He was a Prince.

He was.

He wasn’t a whore.

He wasn’t—.

‘Then, get up off your back.’

“W-Wait!”

Victor sat up, confused, as Esteban pushed away.

“Uh... Did I do something wrong?”

“...N-no!” Esteban shook his head. He hadn’t even touched him yet, “I-it’s not you, it’s not! It isn’t! I-I just... I didn’t like that position.”

That was all he could say.

It was true, he hadn’t liked it.

It had made him feel... less in power than he had been before...

It had made him feel...

...Weak.

“Oh,” Victor nodded, “Okay. I understand. It wasn’t my favorite position either. I, umm...” he blushed, “...I liked it when you were on top of me.”

Esteban felt his dick twitch. He’d liked being on top of Victor too. Very, very much. But, he also kind of wanted to experience... whatever Victor had experienced. And, he wanted Victor to experience what he had experienced. Huh... Maybe...

“How about,” Esteban grabbed him, “like this...?”

He flipped them so that Victor was under him again, but this time instead of being between Victor’s legs, Esteban was straddling his waist.

“Oh,” Victor looked up, “I-I guess we could try it like this. It’s... intriguing. But, it’s a little confusing... Who’s... Who’s topping?”

Esteban... actually didn’t know.

He wanted to say that he was, but he really didn’t know. He wasn’t exactly an expert on sex positions, as he’d been a virgin until not even an hour before.

“...I-I’m not sure,” Esteban admitted.

“Huh... Well whatever, we can decide later,” Victor smiled, “It’s the act itself that’s all that should matter. Let’s just do what we’re trying to do in the first place, yes?”

“Yes,” Esteban smiled back, “Let’s do it... Now, uh... s-stick your finger up my asshole! If you don’t mind... Your Prince commands it!”

Victor giggled, “As you wish, my Prince.”

***

It had ended up being not so bad. Not as good as the first time, which proved where both their preferences were, but it had still been enjoyable. They could probably do that again. Sometime. But, they clearly knew which positions they preferred.

But, none of that mattered. What mattered was that they loved each other, and they’d shown that to each other that night. And as Esteban had predicted, they continued to show that to each other on many, many more nights—and days and every time else—afterward, all the way through to the Assault on Castle Rivera, Esteban’s return home, the Battle of the Ciudad Del Fundador, Victor’s ennoblement and placement as Esteban’s new bodyguard, and ever since. The love that they had for each other was immeasurable. Nothing in the world could ever hope to stand as it’s equal.

But, Victor didn’t love Esteban as much as Esteban loved him.

It was a horrible truth that he’d learned before in that very same night that they’d escaped the treachery of House Robles. When Victor had accused Esteban of using him, and not being sincere in his love.

Victor did love him, Esteban knew that. But to throw out such a baseless accusation, and much worse, to not believe in their love? Esteban would never have done that to him, no matter what forces tried to convince him otherwise. And, that’s how he knew that their respective loves for each other could never be the same.

And, that’s why Esteban had sworn to himself that he was going to spend the rest of his life proving his undying love to Victor. So that nothing like that would ever happen again.

Victor was all his. The most valuable possession he’d ever own. He didn’t need any figurine knights to play with anymore. He had a real knight to play with now. The best toy he would ever own.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t the only one to recognize the value of his new toy.

When Victor died, it had shattered Esteban to his core. Even if it hadn’t been permanent, the very fact that it had happened had broken Esteban. It had scarred him for all eternity. God had seen fit to give them a second chance, and Esteban was not going to waste it. He was going to make the most of every second they had together, and nothing was going to stand in their way. Esteban would make sure of that.

But now, everybody knew his one weakness. Everybody knew exactly how to get to him. And, there were definitely going to be those that tried.

Esteban was the strong, dominant Prince he was always meant to be now, and that would never come into question again. But now, that meant that his opponents couldn’t come straight for him to get to him. All of the sudden, now to hurt him, they had to hurt the one closest to him. They had to hurt Victor.

And, Esteban wasn’t going to let that happen.

With God and magic as his witnesses, Esteban swore that he would never let anything bad happen to Victor ever again.

Everyone wanted to touch Esteban’s new toy. Everyone wanted to play with Esteban’s new toy. Everyone wanted to break Esteban’s new toy.

Fortunately, Esteban had never been fond of sharing his toys.

***

“Leon,” Premier Luis pointed out on the map, “The great city in the north. A testament to the resourcefulness of it’s people, with walls high as hills and damn-near as thick. It’s almost impregnable.”

Esteban held in a snort at his choice of words, and couldn’t help the jokes that floated through his mind at that.

Out of everyone here, the Knight Premier definitely had the highest chance of impregnating it. Most likely on accident.

That’s how Aurelio’s sister had been conceived, after all.

“Indeed,” Warden Anselmo nodded, “It seems the perfect staging point for the rebel threat. Furthermore, it is the seat of House Porra, which reportedly appears to be very high in the rebel chain of command.”

Ugh, Porra.

That was a name that Esteban did not enjoy being reminded of.

And, he knew for a fact that he wasn’t the only one here who thought so.

“My people within the city do report a spike in activity,” Lady Ayala added on, “Knights visiting from other rebel-aligned lands, especially from the Bosque Oscuro, which is more than a little out of the way for them.”

Esteban’s mother nodded from her ostentatious Queenly chair at what was apparently the head of this very round table, “Can your people on the inside make any sort of action against this rebel activity within?”

Esteban rolled his eyes.

That was a dumbass question.

“I’m afraid not, Your Grace,” Lady Ayala shook her head, “They are far too few and far too embedded. To act now would only expose our operations and leave us blindsided to their movements.”

Obviously...

Esteban wished he could be anywhere but here. He was tired, hungry, and maybe even a little horny.

But instead of dealing with all of that like he should have been, he was here with his mother and these four other cocksuckers strategizing their moves against the rebellion. Or, trying and failing to, at least.

“Whether it is the true heart of activity is up for debate. But, Leon does appear to be a center-point for movement at the very least,” stated the lots-of-fun Lord Ignacio Duran beside him, the only cocksucker here who wasn’t on Esteban’s last nerve, “And, at such a fortified position, it could prove to be a potential threat.”

“All the more reason to make our own move as soon as possible,” Warden Anselmo stated.

“Agreed,” Esteban’s mother nodded, “Give me our options.”

“I have an army back in the Valle that would love nothing more than to sack Leon and unseat it’s heads,” Ignacio stated, “But, with the city’s vast defenses, it’s far too large to just push inside.”

Esteban smirked and leaned over as others started throwing out their dumbass ideas, “‘It’s far too large to just push inside?’ Is that a problem you have with your lovers as well?”

Ignacio’s cheeks turned a funny shade of red. “Perhaps we should be focusing on strategy instead of humor, Your Grace,” he muttered.

“What for?” Esteban sat back, “It’s all bullshit anyhow. Our so-called, ‘strategy,’ here is far off course and is only set to lead us on a wild goblin chase that is sure to make us look like idiots and cost us dearly in the future.”

“Then, perhaps you should help us to fix it and figure out where we’re going wrong.”

“Mm, that sounds like a lot of work.”

Esteban appreciated the young master of war’s presence here.

He was fun to mess with, and it was nice not being the youngest at the table for a change.

Plus, it was also nice that at least one of these cocksuckers had at least some shred of sense.

Most of the time.

Goddamnit, he was bored.

“Perhaps,” Warden Anselmo suggested, “if we were to amass a small, but elite military force, we could use it to infiltrate the city and stir up trouble while the rest proceed to the main gates, where our armies will be waiting outside to—.”

“That would never work.”

Everyone looked at Esteban.

Esteban didn’t care anymore, this was just getting ridiculous.

“It wouldn’t,” he repeated, “The second they saw our armies marching, the whole city would go on lockdown, and we would stand no chance of infiltration, much less getting to the gate. And, if we were to go straight to the infiltration, if we were even able to get to the gate, there is no way that we would be able to keep them open long enough for our armies to arrive.”

“Erm, do you have a suggestion of your own, Your Grace?” Warden Anselmo asked.

“For sacking Leon? I would have a number of suggestions for that, but instead I’ll give you one better. Focusing on where the true heart of rebel activity is instead of where they might want us to believe it is.”

“Your Grace, respectfully,” Premier Luis looked confused, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about not being blindsided by an obvious ruse,” he sat up, “If any of you had actually read the reports in full, you would have seen that, yes, there has been a spike in rebel activity in Leon, but not nearly as big of one as there should be for it to be so crucial to their efforts. There have been a number of other spikes, much, much larger than this one, and all of them appear to triangulate here,” he pointed on the map, “At the edge of the Bosque Oscuro.”

“There is nothing at the edge of the Bosque Oscuro,” Warden Anselmo protested.

“Not at first glance,” Esteban moved his finger, “But, if we were to move just a few leagues this way...” He stopped right at the point.

“What is that?” Premier Luis asked.

“Claro Benigno,” Lady Ayala stated, “A Bosque town in a clearing near the region’s border, with a major river running right through it’s middle.”

“Claro Benigno is an insignificant borderland,” Esteban’s mother argued, “A stop for travelers to rest and recuperate on their way to somewhere truly important. It’s only advantage is it’s pretty location.”

“Precisely,” Esteban nodded, “A useless, forgettable... spacious replenishment point at the edge of the border that separates rebellion from royalism...”

“...Perhaps... His Grace might have a point,” Ignacio helpfully admitted.

“Exactly,” Esteban nodded, “So, if we are truly to follow the rebellion’s tail, we should start here,” he tapped, “We’re no doubt to find something, and once we do, we come at it from all sides and,” he clapped his hands, “exterminate the threat,” he sat back, “Problem solved.”

Look at him.

Showing up all these adults.

It felt good.

Well worth the effort.

“‘From all sides?’ Well, I’m not exactly sure we have the resources for... all of that,” Esteban’s oh-so-gracious mother countered.

Esteban had to hold back an eye-roll at that.

“Of course,” he nodded instead, “Richest realm in the world, so rich the commons get fat in the winter,” he shrugged, “And yet, we cannot even amass the resources we need to keep our throne in power. Makes perfect sense.”

“Riches are useless when what we need is not on the market.”

Esteban smiled, “Which is why we should come to an agreement on how best to conserve our available resources instead of, oh I don’t know, attempting to exploit them for our own personal gain, yes?”

This probably wasn’t the best time to bring up his and his mother’s little trade war, but hell, if not now, when? He was on a roll today.

His mother sat back in her ostentatious chair, looking like she was about to start twitching.

“...It’s been a long day,” she suddenly decided, “I think we’ve all deserved a bit of rest. I call this meeting adjourned. Thank you, everyone.”

Everyone got up, bowed or curtsied, and left the room.

Everyone, except for Esteban.

Because, the look on his mother’s face indicated that their own little meeting was far from over.

Once the door closed as the last of them departed, his mother sat back and sighed.

“Esteban Reyes Del Mar.”

Mmm, three names.

Esteban must be in trouble.

Esteban smiled, “Yes, my Gracious Queen of a Mother?”

She didn’t smile back, “What was that?”

He shrugged, “I gave my input. Which I assume is why you wanted me here in the first place. You’re welcome.”

“Mhmm,” she nodded slowly, “And, why did you only do so after remaining silent throughout most of the meeting? And seemingly, only to drag the rest of us through the mud?”

He smiled again, “It seemed the most beneficial time to do so.”

“For you?” She raised her eyebrows, “And, you preach against personal gain.”

He waved a hand, “This is hardly the same sort of personal gain, I assure you. Everyone benefited from it after all, I turned us in the right direction, and now we’re back on track to defeating the rebels. I just happened to make all of your advisors look like idiots in the process, and you a tyrant who can’t even—.”

“How is Victor?”

...What?

“Umm...” he looked at her suspiciously, “Fine... Why?”

“Just curious,” she shrugged, “I haven’t had much chance to speak with him lately, you’ve been keeping him all to yourself. You’re treating him well, I assume?”

“Of course...”

“Of course, I should hope so,” she chuckled, “I just hope you’re not... physically hurting him in any way. As I understand, you two make quite a lot of noise in your chambers...”

“Mother...”

Esteban was suddenly very uncomfortable.

His mother looked thoughtful for a moment.

“I wonder... do you think he would make all of that racket... if I took him into my chambers, instead?”

“Mother!”

What the fuck was she talking about!?

“Oh, I know, I know,” she giggled, almost giddily, “I’m just a woman. A much older woman.”

Then, she gave him a look of utter seriousness.

“But, as your dear departed father can attest, God rest his soul... I can be very... persuasive.”

Esteban pounded the table, standing up and glaring across at her.

“Mother... Whatever game you’re playing, you’d better stop it right now, or I’ll... I’ll...”

“You’ll what? Do tell, little princeling,” she folded her hands, “What is it that you will do to your mother if she takes away the most precious thing that you possess? Hm?”

Esteban was silent for a long moment, just standing there, glaring at her, as he tried to find a retort...

...Then, he gave up, and sunk back down into his chair.

“Smart choice, young one.”

His mother stood up, and crossed around the table to where he was sitting.

She smiled down at him, “Never spar with me, boy. Remember,” she pinched his cheek, “I am the Queen of Ravarra, and you are the Prince of sitting on your behind. And, your only true subject is the one that you make bend over.”

She kissed his forehead.

“Have a good day, my little Prince.”

She turned and strode out of the room, leaving Esteban with nothing but his stormy thoughts.

He had no idea what had just happened. But, whatever that was, he hadn’t liked it. To even joke about something happening to Victor...

...But, there was nothing that he could do.

As much as it pained him to admit it, his hands were tied from any sort of retaliation.

If there was one person in this Palace that one never messed with, it was Esteban’s gracious mother.

***

“How is it that you have not yet secured a betrothal, Your Grace?”

There it was.

That one damned question.

That one dreaded question that every credulous idiot in the Kingdom wanted to fucking ask.

And, it always sparked the same damned conversation that would come after.

Esteban smiled politely at Lady Allende, “I suppose I have yet to meet someone who could fulfill my needs in marriage, my lady.”

“‘Fulfill his needs,’ he says,” Lady Guerrero giggled, “Your Grace, bachelorettes from across the realm would flock to you if you let them. I’m sure more than a few of them would be delighted to,” she looked him up and down, “fulfill your needs.”

Fucking creepy bitch.

“I see,” Esteban nodded, “If I ever find one, my lady, I will be sure to let you know.”

She blinked a little slowly, “Do...”

“His Grace is still quite a ways from the point where a marriage alliance would be crucial,” Ignacio helpfully put in, “with Her Grace the Queen still strong on the throne. And with good fortune, she will hopefully stay so for many more years to come.”

“Yes, of course. Agreed indefinitely,” Lady Allende nodded, “But sooner or later, His Grace must see that finding a suitable woman to tie the knot with is crucial to the future of the Reyes legacy,” she pointed at him, “And, you as well, Lord Duran. As the last liege of one House and the last heir to another, you too have a duty to continue your intermixed bloodlines as soon as possible.”

“I’m still young,” Ignacio defended calmly, “And, overwhelmed with the responsibilities of a master of war on the brink of wartime. My family legacy can wait.”

“Agreed,” Esteban put in, because some Princely approval never hurt anybody.

“Hmm... Perhaps you make a decent point for yourself, my lord,” she turned back to Esteban, “But, Your Grace, you should have your family’s future as one of your top priorities. While the rest of us are off fighting a war, you should be here fighting for your succession.”

Esteban held in a sigh.

Everyone always assumed that Esteban didn’t work—Esteban worked, he did. He didn’t just sit around in a tower waiting for some... fantastical heroine—or even hero, for that matter—to come and vie for his hand, and then win his heart and ride off with him into the sunset. He was the liege of two overseas territories, for God’s sake. The amount of paperwork that he’d had to sit through that morning alone would have made Lady Allende pass out.

Ugh.

This was what it was like every time.

‘Marriage,’ this, ‘legacy,’ that, every single time Esteban attended one of these social events.

Tonight, it was another banquet, just as most social events were. And this time, he and Ignacio were locked in this torturous conversation with three respective Ciudad noblewomen. Ladies Ines Allende, Serafina Carrera, and Dama Guerrero.

The middle-aged Lady Allende and the much younger Lady Guerrero were actually the ones doing the torturing. The elder Lady Carrera was more of a simple presence occasionally putting in an unbiased opinion.

Despite everything, it was good to see the old Lady of the thoroughfare out and about. Ever since Sandro’s death, she had kept mostly to herself in mourning. But now, she was content enough to return to noble society, albeit still hiding all but her face in a mourning black mantilla.

“The war has yet to come, and I believe that when it does, His Grace will be given his own priorities within it, Lady Allende,” Lady Carrera spoke up, “A Prince has many more duties than simple marriage and succession. Perhaps even more than we can understand.”

Finally, somebody got it!

“Perhaps, but marriage and succession should be a priority near to the top,” Lady Allende argued, “Surely you must agree, Lady Carrera, that His Grace must choose a bride for himself before they are all taken.”

Lady Carrera locked eyes with Esteban.

The elder lady smiled, “I believe in His Grace’s ability to set his own pace.”

Esteban smiled back.

She had always been an understanding woman.

“Maybe so, but I, for one, prefer to be fully prepared for whatever the future brings,” she pointed at him, “I have a daughter not but a few years Your Grace’s senior. If Your Grace would approve, I shall introduce you.”

Ugh.

Here we go.

“I thank you for your generous offer, my lady,” Esteban bowed his head, “I shall consider it thoroughly.”

Not.

Lady Allende looked disappointed, “Consider soon, Your Grace. She will not remain ripe forever.”

That made Esteban’s dick recede.

“No woman ever stays ripe for long,” young Lady Guerrero joked, “With Your Grace’s appearance, it’s a wonder they’re able to keep their composure at all.”

“Agreed. You are a handsome boy, Your Grace,” Lady Allende smiled, “If you would open yourself up more, you would have the young bachelorettes vying for your hand in no time.”

Lady Guerrero bit her lip, “With a face and body like his, I’m sure it will be the bachelorettes opening up for him all the way...”

Lady Allende gasped, “Ay! Lady Guerrero, that is sincerely indecent!”

And, entirely uncalled for, in Esteban’s opinion!

He really needed to get out of here...

She shrugged, “People have needs, my Lady Allende. No morals or values can deny that,” she turned back to Esteban with a hungry smile, “It’s only natural for us to indulge them with the most... appealing other.”

Well, Esteban could agree with that, but his natural needs could never be indulged by what she was suggesting.

“Our morals and values are what keep us above the animals. But, you do make something of a point,” Lady Allende stated, “People do have needs, which is why a suitable marriage should be one of our first priorities.”

Lady Guerrero sauntered forward and leaned up to Esteban’s ear, “Don’t take everything she says too seriously, Your Grace... You don’t need a marriage to indulge your needs...”

Esteban’s dick was so shriveled it felt like it was gonna fall off.

“I don’t think that marriage should be such a top priority,” Ignacio disagreed, “Helping those around you, being good to your people, being a decent person, those are what should be a higher priority any day.”

“It is a nice sentiment, my lord, but one cannot deny nature,” Lady Allende pointed, “Every man needs a woman just as every woman needs a man.”

That was a dated opinion if Esteban ever heard one...

“Hmm,” Lady Carrera nodded, “And as if on cue, here comes Lady Leyte Vidal.”

Lady Guerrero gasped when she saw her, “Good God, is that woman wearing trousers!?”

“Ugh!” Lady Allende looked disgusted, “Honestly, this... liberal trend is getting far out of hand!”

As if on cue, indeed.

Across the room, having just entered the banquet, was Lady Yazmin Leyte Vidal. The Lady of the merged Houses Leyte and Vidal. Her parents had been the respective lieges of their Houses, and defying society’s expectations, had chosen to marry each other instead of lesser noble offspring. Lady Yazmin was their sole child, and now that both of them were gone, the leadership of both Houses had fallen to her.

She was a young woman in her very early twenties, somewhere around Lady Guerrero’s age, with darkish skin and curly hair. Women almost never wore pants outside of the militaries. But like her parents, Lady Yazmin was too defying society’s expectations, wearing black trousers and a vest instead of the traditional dress.

Lady Yazmin peered across the room, hands on her hips, already looking bored. When she spotted them all staring at her, she made her way over to them, walking in a manner that was definitely less than ladylike, and bowed her head, “Your Grace, my lord, my ladies.”

“Good evening, my lady,” Lady Carrera greeted politely while Lady Guerrero looked her over with a curious smirk and Lady Allende just stood there all but scowling at her, “How are you this evening?”

“Tired,” she sighed, “Agitated. Damn thirsty—Thank you!” She swiped a drink from a passing handmaiden’s tray, taking a big, loud gulp, “Ahh, that’s much better,” she wiped her mouth on her sleeve and tipped the sloshing chalice to them, “Yourselves?”

“Busy,” Lady Guerrero smiled the fakest smile in existence, “Very busy. It was nice seeing you—Come, my ladies, let us away.”

Lady Guerrero took Lady Allende and Lady Carrera by the arms and departed in what was basically the most refined scurry they could manage.

Lady Yazmin snorted, “Cunts,” she downed her chalice and practically threw it over her shoulder onto the tray of another passing servant, who glared at her as he stabilized himself before continuing on his way. Lady Yazmin placed her hands on her hips again and nodded to Esteban and Ignacio, “What’s happening, guys?”

“Not much,” Ignacio stated, “If I may be so bold, thank you for rescuing us from them.”

“Be as bold as you want, I don’t give a fuck,” she pointed a long finger, “And, you’re very welcome, but now you owe me one.”

“Noted.”

“I assume you’re as bored as we are?” Esteban asked, scratching an itch in his back since he was finally in a setting that wasn’t so formal.

“You’d better believe it, I wanna go home,” she looked around the room, “If someone had told me that high society came with such high expectations, I’d have flung myself from the Ciudad walls before I could walk.”

“There’s something we can all agree on,” Esteban sighed.

Lady Yazmin smiled, “If only God had seen fit to make us all farmers and cobblers. So,” she clasped her hands, “since we’re stuck here and it’s just us, we may as well make this, ‘pretending to socialize,’ crap entertaining. Let’s talk about sex.”

“Let’s not,” Ignacio blushed.

“Sex. Sure,” Esteban ignored him, “How much of it are you getting?”

“Good amount,” she shrugged, “Could always use a bit more. Fucked this beautiful southern damsel the other day, but you don’t wanna hear about that,” she nodded, “What’s up with you and Lord Eyes?”

“Going strong,” Esteban smiled, “Pretty sure we’ll cause a scandal one of these days, but it’ll be worth it. Everyone is jealous of us and rightly so.”

“Rightly so,” she swatted Ignacio’s arm, “Your turn. How much are you getting?”

Ignacio blushed, “My sex life is just fine, thank you very much.”

“We know that, what we want to know is how many manservants’s butts you’ve pounded since returning to the capital.”

Esteban and Lady Yazmin chuckled as Ignacio blushed harder.

Lady Yazmin then nodded behind Esteban, “Speaking of Lord Eyes...”

Esteban turned just in time to see Victor coming over to them with Gilberto and Benedicto at his heels.

Victor smiled his cute smile and bowed his head, “Good evening, Lady Leyte Vidal, it’s good to see you. I like your vest.”

“Thanks. Don’t actually remember where I got it,” she fiddled with it, “But, I’m sure it was expensive. I like your matching attires.”

“Thank you.”

Tonight was one of the rare nights where Victor wasn’t wearing his Royal Guard armor. He was wearing noble formalwear, and since their House colors were so similar, he and Esteban were wearing almost matching outfits, albeit with his looking much less regal than Esteban’s. Esteban thought they looked pretty cute.

Esteban turned to Gilberto, “Please tell me you brought something to tide me over until this night is over.”

He held up a cup, “How about some maté to keep you awake?”

Esteban took the little cup of eastern tea and took a sip.

Mmm, that was better.

“That’s not the only thing he brought that would keep us awake,” Benedicto shook his head, “This little infidel thought it was a good idea to get a plate of raw jalapeños for us to eat...”

“Oh!” Esteban perked up. Gilberto held up the plate and Esteban took one of the peppers and plopped it into his mouth, biting into it with a satisfying crunch.

“Heathen!”

Esteban stopped chewing and stared at Benedicto’s scandalized face.

“...You would talk to your Prince that way?”

“I would talk to a heathen with unnatural tastes that way!”

Esteban rolled his eyes as he continued chewing.

It wasn’t his fault that northerners couldn’t handle a bit of spice.

Victor, Gilberto, Lady Yazmin, and even Ignacio—who must have inherited the tolerance from his mother’s side—each took a jalapeño as well.

Gilberto shrugged at Benedicto’s glare, “They’re yummy.”

“I hate all of you...”

Lady Yazmin swallowed her pepper with a sigh, “Well, as much as I’ve enjoyed this, I should probably pretend to socialize with other people while I’m here,” she saluted sloppily, “It’s been fun. Catch you later, Your Graciousness.”

“See you,” Esteban waved as she departed.

Benedicto nodded slowly, “She’s interesting.”

“She is,” Gilberto agreed, “She has a very interesting... fashion choice.”

“‘Fashion choice?’” Benedicto smirked, “You’ve never seen a woman in pants before?”

“I have not. Not women who weren’t knights or sell-swords, at least,” Gilberto nodded, “I like it. The crossdressing. Especially in such a bold setting as this.”

“‘Bold,’ is certainly one way to put it,” Esteban mused as he sipped his maté.

“Maybe I should try it sometime...” Gilberto played with his hair, “I bet I would look pretty in a dress...”

“No,” Esteban shook his head, “If you ever come into my chambers wearing a dress, I’ll throw you off the balcony myself.”

Victor snickered, “Someone’s masculinity is fragile.”

Esteban gave him a look before sipping more tea. Just for dramatic effect.

“Mm,” Benedicto nodded ahead, “Speaking of pretty dresses, your sister just arrived, Gilberto.”

Everyone turned to where he was looking.

Sure enough, Warbler Ten was on the other side of the room with her wizardess companion, starting a conversation with the three Ciudad ladies.

“Hmph. Now, there’s a real heathen,” Gilberto shook his head, “I’m definitely not going to her and little Leandro’s wedding.”

“You would be absent from your own sister’s wedding?” Victor asked.

“I would if she was a heathen.”

Esteban supposed that wasn’t unbelievable.

“Speaking of weddings,” he remembered, “Victor, isn’t your Godmother getting married soon?”

“It’s coming up,” he nodded, “I’m gonna need to go on leave so I can attend.”

Esteban frowned, “Must you?”

“I must,” Victor chuckled, “I hope you’ll be able to manage without me.”

Then, he looked across the room.

“Actually, I see Lady Arias over there. Since we’re on the subject, I should probably confirm with her that everything is prepared,” he smiled, “I’ll see you later... Your Graciousness.”

Esteban smiled as Victor went to talk to his... God-grandmother, or whatever she was, passing by Gilberto’s sister and the three ladies as he did. Esteban saw Lady Guerrero notice him, her eyes following him as he walked by, and for some reason, she was licking her lips.

Just then, Esteban noticed Ignacio departing from the group, “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Ignacio stated, “I’m just going to the privy.”

Esteban handed his cup to Gilberto, “I’ll go with you. Gilberto, keep an eye on Lady Dama Guerrero,” he cast one more glance in that direction, “I don’t like that look in her eye...”

Gilberto bowed his head, and Esteban followed Ignacio out into the empty hall.

“So, despite everything,” Esteban brought up, “I’d say it’s been an interesting night.”

“It’s certainly been something,” Ignacio muttered, “I could have done without bitch and bitchier basically telling us to man up and marry women...”

“You should be grateful that you weren’t the one that bitchier was trying to get her hands on,” Esteban noted, “But... they did make something of a point. About natural needs and all that.”

“I can comfortably speak for both of us when I say that neither of us need women to satisfy our needs.”

“That, you can. But then, that brings me to what Lady Yazmin brought up,” he smiled, “You never did answer her question.”

Ignacio blushed, “I never agreed to.”

“It’s only fair, oh great Lord Duran. Come now. I know you’ve been with at least a few people...”

“Maybe I have, and maybe I haven’t. That’s my business.”

They turned a corner and spotted a privy just down the hall, and started to make their way toward it.

“You have. You’re not as subtle as you think you are,” he chuckled, “I certainly hope those boys you’re committed to gave their approval.”

Ignacio stopped walking, “What?”

“That Zapata sorcerer,” Esteban stopped with him, “And, that bicolored commoner you’re with. I admit, at first I was curious about which one you really had your eye on, but then I saw how committed you were to both of them, and it dawned on me,” he smiled, “You’re fucking both of them.”

Ignacio stared at him for a moment.

He crossed his arms, “I’d rather that stay between us, if you don’t mind.”

“What for?” Esteban asked.

“I just would.”

“Keeping it from the traditionalists, sure, but there’s no reason to keep it from your friends.”

“Please don’t.”

“But, Ignacio, I don’t see any—.”

“Your Grace,” he interrupted, “I have as much respect for you as a source and the heir to the throne deserves, but this is something you need to keep between us. I’m serious.”

Esteban chuckled, “Well, I don’t, ‘need,’ to do anything, you know. I’m the Prince, I can do whatever I want.”

Ignacio scowled at him.

“What? It was a joke.”

A truthful joke. But, still a joke

“Your Grace, respectfully,” his eyes squeezed shut, “this not a joking matter...”

“On the contrary, I find it quite hilarious. And, slightly hurtful, considering how reserved you are about it. I think it would only do you wonders if it were more out in the open—.”

“Your Grace!”

Esteban jumped as Ignacio’s eyes shot open, glowing and glaring with magic.

“I’m. Not. Joking.”

“...Alright, alright, take it easy,” Esteban raised his hands, “I’ll keep my mouth shut. Goodness.”

“Good choice...”

Ignacio’s eyes returned to normal, and he turned and stormed into the privy.

Esteban, very perplexed, followed him in.

When they entered, Ignacio went straight for one of the waste-holes near the middle of the wall, unlacing his pants as he stopped in front of it. Esteban walked over and went two holes to the left, because that was the unspoken rule of the privy. As he unlaced his own pants, Esteban looked over at Ignacio, who had his eyes down at what he was doing.

“So...” Esteban spoke up as he started to piss, “Something is clearly bothering you... Do you want to talk about it?”

Ignacio’s face then lost all seriousness, and he started to look sad.

“I... It’s just...” he shook his head, “I’ve had a hard enough time coming to terms with my sexual preference, and an even harder time being... open with anyone about it. I don’t need everyone to think that I’m... bigamous as well.”

“By current definition, I don’t think that three males can be bigamous,” Esteban looked back down.

“You know what I mean. It’s going to be a thing that people think,” he pouted, “It’s hard enough for society to swallow the idea of same sex romance, but... romance between more than two people... that’s near impossible... And besides, I don’t want Piero and Niguel dragged into my messes.”

“But, that’s what lovers are for,” Esteban stated, “To help you clean up your messes.”

Ignacio looked thoughtful for a moment.

“...Maybe you’re right.”

CREAK

“Room for one more, boys?”

Esteban and Ignacio both tensed at the voice that had entered the room.

“...Th-this is the men’s privy!” Ignacio quivered.

“Oh, is that what that symbol on the door meant?” Lady Yazmin asked as she came into Esteban’s viewpoint between them, “And, here I thought this was where the manservants came to suck each other off.”

“That doesn’t happen on the mainland,” Esteban countered, just for something to say.

“Pity,” she turned around, unbuckling her belt, “I would have so liked to have walked in on that.”

Esteban and Ignacio both averted their eyes as her trousers came down, and she plopped herself right onto the waste-hole between them.

“Hmm,” Lady Yazmin stared openly at Ignacio’s dick as she relieved herself, “Not bad, Duran. I can see why you’re so popular.”

Ignacio’s face turned near blood red as he fiddled to put himself away.

Then, she turned and looked at Esteban, “And, you, Your Grace... Damn me to the crevice, you’re by far the biggest I’ve ever seen.”

“Th-thank you,” Esteban stuttered.

“I can see what High Sir Cuteness sees in you. Fuck me... Literally. I wouldn’t mind going for a ride on that...”

“You’re hardly my type, my lady!”

Lady Yazmin shook her head, “It’s a true crime, keeping such a marvel from the girls of Ravarra...”

Esteban wanted so badly to put himself away, but he was still peeing, so he really had no choice but to just stand there and endure it until he was done, and—Goddamnit, he wished this woman would stop staring at his cock!

Finally, mercifully, his stream died down, and Esteban was finally able to put his dick away and hide it once more in the safety of his pants.

Only when it was gone did Lady Yazmin look away, “Oh well, I like pussy better, anyhow.”

She stood and hefted her trousers back up, starting to walk as she buckled her belt, “Now then, let us return to the festivities, shall we?”

Esteban and Ignacio briefly exchanged looks as they followed her out of the privy.

They had barely made it a few steps out into the hall before Gilberto and Benedicto came rushing around the corner.

“UCK—!” Gilberto grunted as he bumped into Lady Yazmin.

“Hey, watch it, curly!”

“Your Grace!” Gilberto bowed his head quickly, “Did you see Victor or Lady Guerrero walk by here?”

What?

“No, we just left the privy,” Esteban looked around the empty hallway, “Why? Has something happened? Did Lady Guerrero do something?”

“Well... we don’t know,” Benedicto admitted, “Victor came looking for you, so we pointed him in your direction, and he went to look for you. Then, Gilberto’s sister and her wizardess came up to us, and that’s when Gilberto and Lupe started arguing—.”

“While Benedicto and Rita started flirting!”

“I was not!”

“People don’t giggle like that from nothing, Benedicto!”

“...W-well, you were flirting with that apprentice last time!”

“Are seriously still on about—!?”

“Children!” Esteban shouted before they got off track, “What happened then?”

Gilberto and Benedicto looked at each other.

“Well,” Gilberto explained, “once we were done... conversing with them, that’s when we noticed that Lady Guerrero wasn’t with the others. We spotted her just as she was going down this hall. And... that’s when we lost her.”

Esteban stared. Both of his servants avoided his eyes.

“You lost her?... I gave you one job—!”

“Hush!”

“Don’t you, ‘hush,’ me, nobody hushes the Pr—!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Lady Yazmin held up a finger, “Do you hear that?”

Esteban gave her a look, but that’s when he heard it too.

Voices.

Muffled, as if behind a wall...

...And, both of their pitches sounded awfully familiar.

Gilberto pointed, and they all looked at a closed closet door.

Esteban crept forward first with everyone following behind. When he got closer, he finally started to make out what was being said.

“...my lady, I really think you’re misunderstand—!”

That was Victor. And, he sounded frightened.

“Shh, shush your pretty mouth. It’s just you and me here now...”

That was Lady Guerrero. And, she sounded hungry.

And, Esteban was about to explode.

“My lady, please, I—!”

CREAK

Esteban practically pulled the door from it’s hinges.

Inside, Lady Guerrero had paused with her hand dug into Victor’s shirt.

“Este—!”

Esteban grabbed Victor’s arm and pulled him away.

At some point, Gilberto had pulled out his crossbow and was aiming it at the predatory noblewoman.

Benedicto and Ignacio did the same with their wands.

“Girl...” Lady Yazmin was shaking her fists out, looking ready for a fight, “you fucked up.”

Esteban looked at Victor, “Are you alright?”

He nodded, “She told me she needed help looking for something. I didn’t realize she was looking for...”

Esteban hugged him. Then, he glared at the Lady Guerrero.

“I can see that this appears as... an unfortunate situation,” she looked at all of them, “Hopefully, one that we can move on from. Why don’t we all just go our separate ways and forget this ever happened... yes?”

Esteban gave her a fake smile, “Nice try.”

“The dungeon, Your Grace?” Gilberto asked.

Lady Guerrero’s expression turned into one of panic, and this time, the smile Esteban gave was genuine.

“Yes. Take her away.”

***

Obviously, the liege of a noble House didn’t stay locked up for long. Predictably, her family appealed to the Crown for her release with the typical mixture of deference, supplication, and threats.

But, it didn’t matter. Esteban’s message had been heard loud and clear.

Nobody messes with the Prince’s retinue, and especially not with Victor.

The Guerrero liege was hardly the first to threaten Victor. Neither was Esteban’s mother, nor anyone else before or since. But, no matter the individual, Esteban always found a way to keep them from hurting his beloved.

With people he was close to, like his mother, the easiest way to avoid any sort of outcome would be to just... not piss them off. They were his family and friends. They didn’t mean anything they said. It hurt to hear, and Esteban oftentimes wanted to hurt back. But, they never meant it. Esteban knew that. So, the best way to avoid hearing it was to, at the very least, keep them from getting angry with him.

Well... keep them from getting too angry with him.

But with everyone else, that was where he got to pull all the stops.

If anyone talked about Victor the wrong way, looked at Victor the wrong way, or even thought about Victor the wrong way, Esteban would fire back with full force. He had no tolerance for anyone who posed even a shred of danger to the love of his life.

If they wanted to fight, Esteban was ready to fight back.

Because, Victor was all his. The most precious toy he had ever been given.

And, nobody else gets to touch the Prince’s favorite toy.

Chapter Text

“Come on. It’s getting late fast, and I don’t want to miss a second of tonight. We have so much fun ahead of us. I promise you.”

You are being led through the dense palm tree forest on the highest mountain of the Isla Del Mar, with the glamorous Del Mar citadel disappearing further and further behind you as you journey further and further away.

Low fronds and thick brush surround you as you travel, the green practically glowing as the orange sun continues to set to your right, disappearing and reappearing behind the endless plant life with every step you take.

With the setting sun comes the aura of the evening, and above the bunched fronds of the trees, the gleaming stars are just beginning to appear, lighting up the sky into what will clearly become a magical night.

You continue to brush through the foliage, following closely at the feet of your two escorts.

Marina Del Mar and Maite Ramos.

Maite looks back as she pushes a low-hanging frond out of the way, “So, this is what I was pulled away from the northern raids for. You’d better be damn-well grateful, I’m telling you right now. I was having quite a lot of fun kicking Lady Robles’s ass.”

“Ay, Maite,” Marina shakes her head at her paramour’s comment, “Leave the charade at home, will you? You’re not fooling either of us,” she looks back at you, a pretty smirk curving on her lips while a single eyebrow arches above a gleaming yellow witch’s eye, “There’s not a chance in the world that you would pass up the opportunity to... get to know such a cute girl as our new acquaintance here.”

“Hmm. I suppose you’re right,” Maite smirks at you too, her luscious lips illuminating almost as brightly as her own yellow eyes, “She is pretty cute. Much cuter than any of the girls in the Robles army that are thrown at me.”

“I can imagine,” Marina chuckles as she brushes leaf bits out of her shoulder-length dark hair, briefly exposing the skin at her soft, bronze neck.

You listen closely as the witches continue to bicker—Marina with her beautiful Isla accent, and Maite with her rich heartlands accent—and simultaneously take time to admire their gorgeous attires. Marina is wearing a ravishing Isla dress, with all of the perfect trimmings and exploitations to it so that it both hugs and exposes her gorgeous body in all of the right places. Meanwhile, Maite continues to wear the erotic green outfit that she has become known for, a silky dress flowing down from her hips, X-binds going over her shoulders and under her armpits just barely covering her thick, darkish cleavage, and soft, tailed stockings on her semi-muscular arms.

“She seems to be into it,” Marina smiles sweetly at you, “Before you ask, no, we don’t usually take girls we wanna fuck into the woods before we get to the action. But, we’ve got something special planned for you,” she winks at you, “Consider yourself lucky.”

“Indeed,” Maite nods, her dark curls bobbing up and down, “And, I can speak for both of us when I say that we’re lucky to have the opportunity to spend time with such a cutie as you. Where did this one come from, Marina?”

Marina snorts and punches her arm, “A lady’s gotta have her secrets, no?”

You continue to follow closely behind your two radiant witches as they push through the forest, and toward your destination of promised desire.

“Ahh,” Marina brushes one last frond away, “Here we are.”

You all emerge from the thick green of the forest into a little clearing, filled to the brim with colorful flowers of all sorts, illuminated by the blinding rays of the setting sun.

Once you’ve all taken in the sight, the two girls turn to look at you, enrapturing smiles bright on their beautiful faces.

“Oh, silly, you’ve got leaves all tangled up in your hair,” Marina chuckles, “Here, let me...”

She steps forward towards you, hands reaching out around your face, and your breath halts as you feel her warm, smooth fingers snake into your hair, brushing against your head.

She lightly untangles several small leaves from your hair, stepping closer to you the further back her hands go.

Her cleavage is near-exposed at the top of her dress, showing off her two ripe, bronze orbs that radiate with an entrancing energy all their own, the deep, tight gap in between them beaming back up at you, coming closer and closer with every small step she takes.

And, when her hands slide down to lightly caress your neck, her full lips are but an inch apart from your own, breathing into your mouth as they form into a smile.

“There you go. All clean...”

Maite comes forward and joins the two of you, touching your arm as Marina continues to caress down to your shoulders.

“Why don’t the three of us make ourselves comfortable?” Maite suggests.

“Yes. Marvelous idea,” Marina purses her lips seductively, “I think we should waste little time... getting comfortable with each other.”

The witches each take one of your arms and pull you deeper into the clearing, stepping through the soft flowers until you find a spot in the middle, and lower to sit down.

Marina looks around the area, her dark hair shining in the light, “A lovely spot this is, yes?”

“It is,” Maite nods, turning to you with an equally-gorgeous grin, “But, I wonder, does our guest here understand it’s significance?”

“I presume she does not,” Marina chuckles, running a finger over your wrist, “Allow us to educate you a bit.”

She reaches out with her other hand and brushes over the petals of several colorful flowers.

“Clearings like these are natural phenomena. They can be found all over the Isla, as far as the forests can touch. Nobody really has any explanation why, they just... exist,” she smirks and winks mischievously at you, “But fortunately, that has nothing to do with their significance at all... Maite?”

You turn back to Maite as she wraps her arm around yours, an equal smirk on her own face as she breathes into your ear.

“These particular phenomena are quite popular with the Isla youth. It is in clearings just like this that adolescents like to come to together to... explore their sexualities.”

Marina wraps herself around your other arm, “As is our marvelous culture.”

“Indeed.”

Maite reaches out with her spare hand, plucking a red flower and bringing it up to her pretty face to sniff.

“I wonder how many young and curious children have lost their virginities in this very spot.”

“As do I,” Marina shakes her head, “It’s a shame I found out about this just a bit too late.”

“A shame, that is.”

Maite puts down the flower and cuddles in closer to you, massaging your shoulder just a little.

“But, at least we have the opportunity to make up for lost time now...”

Marina scoots in closer at your other side, again starting to caress your face.

“Yes, we do...”

They both begin to touch you, pinch you, rub you all over, coming at you from all sides, the attention is almost too overwhelming, but it isn’t. It is just at the edge of perfect.

Marina’s lips are the first ones to touch you, sucking at the spot that connects your neck and shoulder, and then proceeds to travel up your neck with a trail of light, sensual smooches.

Maite’s lips are suddenly on your earlobe, sucking and tugging and pulling on it, sending jolts of pain and pleasure coursing through your body—your face, your neck, your ever-hardening nipples, your stomach, and all the way down below...

Marina’s trail of kisses travels up to your cheek, then turns and slowly travels forward until she’s right next to your chin.

And then, her face is back in front of yours, gleaming yellow eyes half-closed, full lips half-open.

And, when those lips connect with your own, it is as if the breath has been knocked clean out of you.

Her soft, squashy, full little lips are locked onto yours like the door to an impregnable vault. The heat in your mouth spreads to your whole body as she continues to smooch, to nip, to suck, and when her tongue pokes it’s way into your mouth and starts to make out with your own, the tingling between your legs becomes almost too much for you to bear.

You feel Marina’s leg climbing over your lap, and before you know it, her thighs are pressed up tightly, firmly against your own, holding nothing back. You can practically feel the wetness in between her soaking through to you.

Your hands develop minds of their own, shakily raising up and groping her body, stroking everywhere as far as they can touch. Her hardened nipples. Her arched back. Her thick buttocks. And soon, they are on her squishy thighs, slithering in between, and starting to snake upward toward something else...

...And just then, Marina retreats, and you open your eyes which you don’t remember closing, sighting Marina’s smirk.

She runs a hand across your chest, “Ay. All these layers in between us. However will we get anything done?” She gets off of you and scoots to the side, “Maite, would you do the honors?”

“Gladly.”

When you turn back to Maite, you are caught by surprise at the sight of her stripped naked body. During your adventure with Marina, you must have missed her leaving your side. But, you hardly have cause to complain. Especially with results such as this...

You take in the sight of her naked, dark body. Of all her skin fully out on display. Of her full, thick breasts protruding from her chest. Her fat areolas an even darker shade on her already-dark skin. And, the massive, hard nipples poking out in between.

And then, your gaze travels down...

...And, stops at the ultimate attraction.

The shimmering red lips of her vagina look hypnotizing and welcoming, and the deep, layered hole in between looks as if it were a comfortable shelter in a raging storm, and the dark slit at the center leading ever-deeper inside looks as if it were a gateway to another, heavenly world.

Maite crawls over to you, curls falling into her face, thick posterior in the air, and stops in front of you, pushing you back and tugging on your clothes.

“This’ll only take a second, darling,” she winks, “Just hold still.”

You submit to her as she begins to undress you, watching her hands travel all over your body as she strips you down, feeling every sensation every time she touches or lingers in whichever areas. In no time at all, you find yourself in the same state as her, every intimate part of your body exposed to the world.

“Mmm,” Maite moans as her hand trails over the top of your breasts, “What a beautiful creature you are...”

And, that final compliment has you staring at her dark, inviting lips, which begin to turn into a sensual smile.

“You know what they say about curiosity...” the lips purr as they inch closer, “But, you’ve been a very good girl, and you’re very, very cute... I suppose you deserve a reward.”

And then, the lips are on yours. Her fingers cup your chin as she kisses you harder, and you soon find yourself buried into her mouth as your tongues collide, battling each other for dominance, with yours losing on purpose.

After a few more moments, she pulls away, “There. That should suffice. Now, I think it’s time to go back to sharing you with Marina.”

“I personally consider that to be a wonderful idea.”

You turn back to Marina to find her in the same state as the two of you. Completely and unashamedly naked. Her bronze breasts seem to bounce as she crawls back over to you, and when she stops next to you, you look down to get a good look at her reddish, layered lower-lips.

Marina puts a hand on your left shoulder, and Maite puts a hand on your right.

“Now then,” Marina whispers, “Is everybody ready?”

“I believe we are,” Maite breathes.

“Good...”

Marina smiles a coy, sensual smile.

“...Let’s have us a magical night.”

Simultaneously, both of their hands push you back, and you fall back into the bed of soft, colorful flowers.

The two witch girls smile hungrily down at you, touching all over your body, at your arms, your legs, your chest.

One hand grabs your left breast.

Another grabs your right.

Both begin to massage your flesh, going at separate speeds and paces, but coming together equally as they finish off with tight squeezes of your nipples that leave you breathless.

It takes too much energy to keep your eyes open, and you’re forced to squeeze them shut. Now, all the hands that caress your body are strangers, belonging to nobody you can decipher, and they continue to pleasure you with everything they have.

Then, you feel the body heat of warm legs positioning themselves around your head, and you can smell a hot sexuality ripe in the air.

A pair of hands grab your breasts, and another pair grab your inner thighs, spreading your legs as a presence positions itself between them.

You can feel heat approaching you fast from both your mouth and your pussy, and you are fully ready to give into them.

You open your mouth, just as a hot, tangy wetness props itself over your lips, and the shiver of a wet tongue slides over your entrance.

And, you give into it all.

You lick up and down the wet pussy at your mouth in tune with the tongue that licks your own.

And, just as you push inside, it pushes inside.

It all becomes intertwined.

You push your tongue up, the tongue pushes up into you.

The tongue pulls out to lick around, you pull yours out to do the same.

One pair of hands massages your breasts, and the other massages your thighs.

And, with everything combined, the hot pleasure inside you threatens to boil over. And, you let it.

And, everything explodes.

And, the last thing you see is stars in your eyes, hearing and feeling and smelling the marvelous sex in the air, being partook on this magical night.

Chapter Text

Danilo was being stalked.

Everywhere he went, everything he did, every time he moved, he was being stalked by a villainous presence.

But, he wasn’t being stalked by a killer or a thief. Not by an animal or a demon. Not by the sea monster that they’d spotted when they’d sailed here to the mainland. Not by the goblins that always seemed to make their way down from the mountains just to scare him every time he came to visit. Not even by the incubus that he’d lost his virginity to all those years ago—which had definitely happened, no matter what Victor said!

Danilo was being stalked by something else entirely. He was being stalked by a malicious pair of evil twins.

The squires, Mara and Moro.

Not long ago, a pair of Isla nobles had led a voyage north of Ravarra which had abruptly and tragically ended when everyone on it had wound up dead. Fearing for the safety of their families, Danilo’s father and Victor’s father had agreed to send the two of them to the mainland to be protected behind the larger and thicker walls of Castle Peña, the residence of Danilo’s maternal grandfather, Lord Aldo Peña.

Unfortunately, thicker walls apparently weren’t enough of a defense for the sons of Lords Dario Nazario and Valerio Loyola. They had insisted on them bringing along a knightly escort as an extra—and extremely unnecessary—precaution.

Even more unfortunate was the fact that their first choice of bodyguard had refused the offer. Squire Eloísa Valenzuela was the granddaughter of Lord Virgilio Velasco, one of the nobles killed on the voyage. At the time, she had been in a sexual relationship with Danilo and Victor, but the news of what had happened to her family on that voyage had apparently given her a new calling. Her brother had been on that voyage. And, his body had not been among the deceased. So, she had made it her personal mission to set out and find him...

...And, had left them with the recommendation of the squiring twins.

And now, here Danilo was, being stalked by them at every turn.

Ugh...

As much as he wanted to, Danilo could hardly hate them for just doing their job. They were training to be knights, and one of the duties of a knight was to protect their lieges to the best of their abilities.

Still, it was hard not to get annoyed when he wasn’t even allowed to eat, or sleep, or bathe, or piss, or make money, or even walk anywhere without being watched. It may have been easy for Victor—he was a knight, he was used to doing all of these things without the luxury of privacy—but this was certainly not the life that Danilo had been raised to live by.

What was the point of being rich if he couldn’t even afford some privacy?

UGH!!!

Danilo was this close to pulling his hair out.

Oh well. At least if he was being watched, it was by people who only wanted to protect him.

And, at least he had Victor with him.

He didn’t know if he’d have been able to handle any of this without the love of his life there to comfort him every step of the way.

A liege was always sworn to protect their paramour, it was one of the vows that was given during the binding ceremony.

But even without that vow, Danilo knew that he could trust Victor with anything and everything, his life included. Just like Danilo was prepared to do the exact same for him. However he was able to.

Danilo may not have been a knight, but that didn’t stop him from being protective. Probably due to Victor’s influence, but where it came from hardly mattered. However he was able to, he was prepared to protect Victor, his family, his friends... hell, maybe even the damn twins. He was prepared to protect anyone.

Nothing like that voyage was happening again, not on his watch. However he was able, Danilo was prepared to protect anyone he needed to.

And, a good thing that was, because there were plenty of people in this world who needed to be protected...

***

Danilo gasped, panting for breath as he fell back into the sheets.

Victor relaxed as he lowered himself on top of him, planting small affectionate kisses on his cheek, “Good?”

“Good,” Danilo nodded, still short of breath, “Very good.”

“I’m glad,” he chuckled.

Danilo sighed happily...

...And, tried to hold onto as much of that happiness as he could as he saw movement at the doorway out of the corner of his eye.

“We’re fine,” Victor called while Danilo did his best to ignore her.

“Yes, Sir,” Squire Mara nodded, retreating back through the doorway—which didn’t have a damn door, just a big curtain separating their room from the squires’s. And, the exit out into the hall was in the squires’s room, so there was no way to sneak out without running into them.

For Founder’s sake, the things he gave up for safety...

“The next time she pops her head in here, I’m throwing her out the window...” Danilo muttered under his breath.

“She’s just doing her duty, darling,” Victor chuckled again, climbing off of him.

“I know,” Danilo sighed, unhappily this time, “I just wish her duty didn’t involve barging in every five seconds.”

“She has to make sure we’re still breathing,” he kissed him again, snuggling up next to him, “You know how much your life is worth, my love.”

Danilo smiled as he turned on his side, “I suppose that is true. I am very expensive. My binding price did make you rich. And, my dowry does fill an entire vault...”

Victor frowned, unamused, “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

Danilo giggled, and kissed him again.

Victor smiled, “Well, either way, the fact still stands. Having bodyguards would be pointless if they didn’t, you know, guard our bodies. Getting barged in on every now and then is a necessary sacrifice to ensure our safety.”

“Is it really, though?”

“Yes! After everything that’s happened, everything that is going to happen, absolutely,” he touched his shoulder, “Not just for everyone else’s sakes, but for yours and mine as well.”

“But, is it really such a necessity?” Danilo complained, “Even without all the protection my grandfather provides, I hardly think anyone would have a reason to hurt us over here.”

“After what happened with that quest, it’s better to be safe than sorry,” he gave his shoulder a squeeze, “You know how much I care about your safety, Dani...”

“You shouldn’t worry so much.”

“I do. And, I can’t watch over you every second of the day, you know. Much as I would like to. And, since I can’t do that, I’m glad that we have people who can. Hey,” Victor pulled him into his arms, “You know I love you, right?”

“I do.”

“And, you know I would do anything to protect you,” he gave his forehead a kiss, “Danilo... I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if something happened to you. I can’t lose you like—.”

He paused before he could say it, but the silence that hung in the air was completion enough.

Danilo gave him a sympathetic look as he rubbed his back, “I’m sorry...”

“It’s okay...”

“How are you doing?”

Aside from Lord Velasco, the other noble that had led the fatal quest out north had been Lady Marta Bello.

Victor’s aunt.

The bodies of her and her husband had reportedly been among the first to be found.

He looked away, “I’m fine...”

He wasn’t.

And, everyone had seemed to forget that he wasn’t.

When the news had come, it had been directed entirely toward Eloísa. It wasn’t too unexpected that she would receive more pity, not only had she lost her grandfather, but her uncle and her mentor as well.

But, while he hadn’t been as close to her as Eloísa had been with her family, Victor had still lost his own aunt. That wasn’t nothing. He deserved so much more sympathy than he’d initially been given.

Danilo pulled him into a hug.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I didn’t mean to make you sad. I love you too. And, I’m here for you. I hope you know that.”

Victor hugged him back.

“I do... Thank you, Danilo.”

They just lay there like that for a little while longer, taking comfort in each other’s arms, then they released, relaxing back into the bed in silence.

Victor sighed, then looked over at the bedside table, and squinted at something.

“Hmm. On a different note...”

He reached over and picked up an empty vial.

“...We’re out of Intruder.”

...Well, shit.

Danilo groaned, “Oh well. I guess we should go to the market to buy more. Just as well, we haven’t gone outside today, anyway.”

Really, it wasn’t that hard to have sex without Swift Intruder.

But, most of the sex they usually had was anal, and the best way to do that was definitely with some magical anal lubricant.

As Victor had said before, better safe than sorry.

But then, Victor turned back to him with a smirk.

“You can do that. I’m going to take a nap.”

“What—?”

Just then, the curtain moved, and Squire Mara peaked her damned head in again.

“Perfect timing,” Victor announced as he started to bury himself under the sheets, “Danilo is going into the market to restock on butt-stuff. Escort him, will you? And, make sure he doesn’t buy anything too outrageous.”

“Oh,” she came into the room and saluted, “Yes, Sir, as you say.”

Danilo glared at him, and Victor winked back, “Have fun.”

Danilo let out a frustrated breath, “Fine...”

He climbed over Victor and got out of the bed, not giving a single damn as the young squire’s eyes widened and cheeks darkened as she got an eyeful of Danilo’s dick.

“Let’s get this over with...”

***

Danilo didn’t think it was reasonable to allow him to go to the marketplace, but not allow him to spend his own money to his heart’s desire.

It seemed like every stall he walked past was selling something interesting and amazing that Danilo absolutely needed to get his hands on.

But of course, Victor had told Squire Mara not to allow him to buy anything, ‘too outrageous,’—which was literally everything—and like a good little subordinate—bad, very bad subordinate—here she was actively shooing him away from everything that would give him material happiness.

“Umm...” the evil squire interrupted him for the millionth time.

Danilo squeezed his eyes shut, “...Yes?”

“That seems a little... pricey.”

“That would be the point,” Danilo stated as he stiffly pulled his hand away from the bejeweled quill and ink bottle.

“I don’t think Sir Victor would be pleased if you came back with that.”

“‘Sir Victor,’ has seen worse, and he’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Master...”

Danilo groaned, “Okay, okay.” He apologized to the now-angry vendor and continued on his way.

Such a missed opportunity!

A bejeweled quill and ink bottle!

Imagine how much better his letters could have turned out as opposed to being written with a regular quill and ink bottle!

The letters themselves probably wouldn’t have changed... But still, just imagine how much better they would have been if they had been written with a bejeweled quill! With ink from a bejeweled bottle—!

“AHH!!!” Danilo gasped.

Squire Mara grabbed the hilt of her sword, “What happened, what happened!?”

“LOOK!!!” He pointed to the painting stall a few spaces down.

“...Uhh—.”

Danilo sprinted over to the stall and ogled the merchandise.

“Is that a Calandria original!?”

“A one and only, my lord,” the vendor happily pointed out the distinctive and unmatchable signature of the one-eyed painter.

“I need it! I need it now!” Danilo felt his mouth watering, “Gimme!”

He reached for the painting...

“Master Nazario!”

Danilo’s hands turned to fists as he bit hard on his own lip.

“...Yes, Squire Mara?”

“That painting is way too expensive!” She interposed, like the tasteless little girl she was, “You’ll have no money left for what you need to buy!”

Danilo flailed his fists in frustration. He turned to her and clasped his hands in a begging motion, “I’ll take it out of your taxes for the month!”

“I don’t pay taxes, master Nazario.”

“I’ll—I’ll raise your wages for the year!”

“I get food, shelter, and knightly honor from being a squire, master Nazario, I have no use for more money.”

“I’ll buy you an enchanted sword!”

“Master Nazario...”

“IT’S A CALANDRIA!!!”

“Master Nazario...”

“AAGH!!!”

Danilo’s hair was going to fall out before he could rip it out!

Ugh...

“I’m sorry...” he apologized to the vendor as he slumped away.

“Come back anytime...” the baffled seller watched them go.

Such an enormous waste...

A damned Calandria...

Ugh, oh well...

Danilo continued walking, begrudgingly keeping his eyes away from all the various wares being offered around him, until he finally spotted the alchemy stall ahead of him.

He walked up to the stall, where a bored-looking woman was sitting behind.

“Morning,” she yawned, “Or, afternoon, or whatever the fuck. What can I do ya for?”

“Three bottles of Swift Intruder, please,” Danilo asked.

The vendor stared at him. Then, at the squire. Then, she smirked back at him, “Oh, you two wanna try it like that, huh?” She made hand gestures.

“...Wha—No! No, that’s not... She... No! Mara, tell her no!”

Danilo glared at the little squire, who was just standing there and blushing.

“Um... I’m not his... Well, you see the thing is... My liege here is a nobleman, you see, and me and my brother—.”

“Oh, so you wanna do it with her brother,” the vendor nodded, “That makes more sense.”

“N-n-n-no!” Danilo shook his head violently, “That’s not—I don’t want to... She and him are my body—!”

“Meh, whatever,” she shrugged, “Money’s money. I’ll be right back with that.”

She got up and went to the back of the stall to get the products.

Danilo’s face was heated up like it was on fire.

Honestly, the sheer audacity of that woman!

As if he would ever even consider sticking his dick into Squire Mara! God!...

...Never! Never in a thousand years!...

...Absolutely not!...

...

...

...

...Well...

...Huh...

...Huh, actually...

...Huh...

He looked over at Mara, who was conveniently surveying the crowd in the other direction.

Well...

She was annoying.

And, she never let him have any privacy ever—she’d seen his dick three times today alone.

And of course, she didn’t hold a candle to any of the various boys he could have hooked up with.

But...

...He supposed she wasn’t the most repulsive girl he’d ever come across...

...Huh...

...

...

...

...Huh...

The vendor returned, placing the three vials on the table.

“There you go,” she stated, “Have fun with your threesome.”

“Foursome... I mean—!”

The vendor smirked, “Good to know,” she held out her hand.

Danilo sighed, retrieving his coin purse and pulling out the required amount, and put it in her hand.

He gathered up the vials, “Thank—.”

“YOU HEATHEN!!!”

Danilo looked up.

He looked around, “What... was that?”

Mara shrugged, but then her eyes locked onto something behind him, and she pointed, “Over there.”

Danilo turned.

Over near the local Light Magic church, he spotted a wizard stumbling away from a disheveled woman.

Danilo turned back to Mara, and the two shared a look.

He pocketed the vials, and started to approach the troubling situation...

The elder wizard scrambled over to what was probably his own church while the crazy-haired woman stomped after him.

“Refugia, please, this is a huge misunderstanding—!”

“YOU FUCKER!!!” The woman shouted after him, “YOU DEGENERATE FUCKER!!!”

“Please, Refugia, I-I-I don’t know what you think you saw, but I-I promise, it wasn’t what it looked like—!”

“THERE’RE NO TWO WAYS ABOUT WHAT IT LOOKED LIKE, YOU HERETIC SHIT!!!”

Danilo approached them slowly as the wizard scrambled to get the door open and hid behind it.

“L-Look, Refugia, I... I can see that your emotions are clouding your judgement, you—you clearly believe you saw something that ho-honestly didn’t hap—!”

“YOU...”

“I-I shall pray for your swift recovery from whatever demonic presence has a hold over you, now I-I suggest you go home and rest.”

“YOU—!”

“P-Peace be with you!”

SLAM

The woman, Refugia, pounded on the door, “OPEN UP!!! OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!!! GOD DOES NOT GRANT SANCTUARY TO DEVIANTS LIKE YOU!!! OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!!!”

Danilo approached her slowly, careful not to get too close to her rabid pounding and kicking.

“Uh... madam?”

Danilo jumped back when she spun on her heel, glaring at him with the most intense flame he had ever seen in a person’s eye before.

Her gaze relaxed as she looked at him, taking in his appearance, and then bowed her head, still shaking with fury, “My lord...”

“What...” Danilo asked, “What seems to be the... issue, madam?”

“The issue,” she turned back to the church, “is Wizard Adolfo!” She kicked the door, “I should never have let that... reprobate anywhere near my son! And now, he has crossed the uncrossable line!”

“What... What did he do?”

“That demon-courting shit-whore!” She cursed, “He was always too handsy! Always too pushy! And now, I finally caught him! Caught him in the act—OF FONDLING MY LITTLE ROBERTO!!!”

Danilo’s heart skipped a beat.

He turned to Mara, who looked just as horrified as him.

“Uh...” he turned back to madam Refugia. He had to have misheard her, he had to have, “Pardon, madam, you said that the wizard of this church... was... fondling your son?”

“DAMN FUCKING RIGHT!!!” She punched the door, “My Roberto! My poor Roberto!...”

She turned to him, a look of sadness in her eye.

“My son, he is an anxious and lonely boy, he doesn’t have many friends. He hasn’t been the same since his father passed... Wizard Adolfo offered to help him recover, to help him heal whatever wounds he still possessed...”

Her expression turned back to anger as she turned back to the church.

“I came back to the inn after restocking for supper tonight. I went to Roberto’s room to see if he needed anything. And, that’s when I found the damned wizard...” she seethed, “Hands all over my little boy’s sparsely-clothed body, like he was some whore in a tavern! My boy! My son! MY ROBERTO!!!”

She resumed her pounding on the church doors.

Danilo could only stare. At Refugia. At the doors. At the church.

He just couldn’t believe any of this...

A wizard... a man who preached God’s word for a living... guilty of such... abuse? Of a little boy?

That... shouldn’t have even been possible.

It should have been impossible.

How could someone who prayed for the sinners, comforted the downtrodden, professed the teachings of God in Heaven... abuse a small child?

Danilo looked at madam Refugia, tired out from her attack on the doors, but still fuming.

“This...” he told her, “This is a serious issue, madam. If what you say is true... this cannot stand.”

“I know,” she shook her head, “I want to cleave his head from his shoulders myself! Had I the money, I would travel to the capital myself and take this matter straight to the Basilica’s doorstep!”

Danilo paused.

“...The money?”

She looked at him tiredly.

“Business hasn’t been great lately,” she admitted, “What with the war in the north and everything, not many travelers around here,” she sighed, “I want to go straight up to whoever’s filling in for the Grand Wizard these days and demand justice... but I just can’t afford it...”

Danilo stared again.

He spent a long time just staring.

At the woman whose child had been wronged.

At the doors that barricaded her from justice.

At the church that housed a horrible sinner...

...

...

...

...He took her hand.

She looked at him in confusion.

He took his coin purse from his belt and placed it in her hand.

She stared down at it for a long time. Then, she looked up and stared back into his eyes.

In an instant, tears streaked down her face, and she dropped to her knees in front of him.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you, my lord!” She kissed his hands, “I will never... ever forget this!... I will never be able to repay you...”

“No need. Just get Roberto the justice he deserves.”

She stood up shakily, kissing his hands again.

“I will leave now, as soon as possible!” She vowed, “I will have justice for my son, my lord... thanks to you!”

She smiled one more tearful smile, and then she hurried away.

Danilo looked back at the church.

A truly evil sinner was hiding behind it’s doors, that had been made very clear.

He could only hope that he got what was coming to him...

He noticed Mara move out of the corner of his eye. He looked at her, and she was looking at him with a face a mixture of surprise and esteem.

Danilo shrugged, “I hope that doesn’t count as anything, ‘too outrageous.’”

***

Benedicto walked through the streets of the Ciudad Del Fundador on his way to the Basilica De Santana, and the only thing he could think about was how hard having a dick was.

So to speak...

He’d had this thing in his pants for almost a year now, and he still didn’t understand how men who were born with these were able to walk around so comfortably with them.

It was fun under the right circumstances—like whenever he was alone with Gilberto—but every time else, it was literally impossible to manage the safety of everything down there.

It seemed like every step he took—no, every time he moved his leg, even!—he almost ended up crushing something or tripping over something or just doing something he shouldn’t be doing.

Well, at least now he knew why their legs were always so far apart...

Still... this was just so difficult to handle.

He must be doing something wrong...

Oh well, it could have been worse, he supposed.

At least dicks didn’t bleed every month...

He rounded a corner and finally spotted ahead the entrance to the atrium that housed the three Basilicas.

He started to continue towards it, but as he did, he began to notice a small crowd gathered around the entrance. They looked as if they were standing in some sort of half-circle. And in the middle, they were all looking at—.

Oh...

That lady...

“Arch Sorceress!” One man asked, “How can we justify members of the Holy Orders actively advocating for the rebellion?”

Well, obviously there were going to be magic users who supported the rebellion...

As a northern magic user himself, Benedicto could confirm that, yes, magic users existed in the north.

And, yes, a sizable few of those magic users were loyal to their native regions.

Honestly, this was just basic logic...

“Members of our Orders will advocate for whichever cause that they come to accept for themselves and believe to be just,” the old woman in gray answered in all those big words.

“And, what of members of the Sacred Circles,” one woman asked, “who represent those regions in active rebellion? Where do they stand on this conflict?”

Again, people were gonna be loyal to their native lands...

Benedicto didn’t like it anymore than them, but these people just had to accept that just because the leaders of their Orders were loyal to one faction didn’t mean that individual magic users were all going to agree.

The Orders of Magic were organized for religious purposes and nothing more.

Loyalty to God and magic was the only form of loyalty that they were required by law to show.

After that, loyalty to whichever mortal person or group that they wanted to be loyal to was up to them to decide.

“They stand wherever they believe is morally correct for themselves to stand,” the old woman answered, basically repeating Benedicto’s thoughts exactly, “We may not see eye to eye on where our mundane loyalties should lie, but regardless of where this conflict progresses, we must remember that, at the end of the day, we shall all continue to share a divine loyalty.”

Precisely.

Benedicto didn’t like sorcerers, but at least this woman had some sense.

Which was probably why she was their leader.

Or, maybe just because she was old.

Benedicto didn’t really care.

A few other questions were thrown out before the crowd started to dissipate. When everyone finally started to leave, Benedicto approached the entrance, where the old lady continued to survey the streets.

“Wizard Madera,” she addressed him before even looking at him.

Shit...

Benedicto nodded, “Grand Sorceress.”

“Arch Sorceress.”

Whatever...

“...Inspiring speech,” Benedicto stated, just for something to say.

“Hardly,” she sighed. She always looked so bored, “I said what needed to be said, nothing more.”

“Right...”

She briefly looked him up and down, “New robes?”

Benedicto shrugged, “Sure.”

Sort of.

He’d had them for a few months now. This was the first time she was seeing them though.

Prince Esteban had given him these new turquoise robes for his birthday. Benedicto liked them. They matched his allegiance to the Crown, and they also came with pants.

All of his previous robes had all gone down to his ankles, so he couldn’t wear pants with them, which he hadn’t liked, especially after the sex change ritual.

But now, these new robes only went down almost to his knees, like a long tunic almost. They were similar to what knighted or squiring magic users wore—minus the actual armoring—which made Benedicto feel kinda like a badass. Plus, wearing pants did help a little with the whole dick situation, and they also did wonders for his admittedly-fragile masculinity.

So all in all, he was pretty happy with them.

“They suit you,” she nodded. She looked back into the courtyard, “Your cardinal summoned you?”

Of course she would figure that out...

“Yeah,” he confirmed, “She said she needed my aid in an urgent matter.”

“‘Urgent,’ is one way to put it...”

She looked back at him.

“And, you have come to answer her call.”

Benedicto shrugged again, “Yes...”

“Without question.”

“She is the acting head of my Order.”

The old lady just looked at him for a few seconds.

“...You are quite loyal to your Order,” she finally noted, “I can tell. You would do... almost anything to protect it.”

Benedicto crossed his arms, “I don’t know how you do it in the Gray Order, but yes. I am a loyal servant of God and magic. And, I serve Him and them through my service to the Order of Light. If the institution to which I profess my divine service were to ever be in jeopardy, then yes, I would do anything in my power to protect it.”

“‘Anything?’”

“Anything.”

Again, she just looked at him, for so long that it was starting to get a little awkward...

Then, she looked up to the sky.

“...In my seven hundred years of age, I have seen many things,” she stated suddenly, “I have lived through so much conflict... The Succession Wars. The Calderón Curse. The De La Luz Usurpation. The Obsidian War. Just to name a few...”

Then, she looked back down at him.

“...The conflict I see in you... is both one that I’ve seen many times before... and one that is unique to you alone.”

She stared at him.

Benedicto stared back.

Finally, she turned away.

“You have many choices ahead of you, Wizard Madera. I only hope that one day you choose to make the right one... May God and magic watch over you, young one.”

And with that, she walked away.

...What a creepy old woman.

Why did people listen to her again? Because, she was old?

Whatever, it didn’t matter. Benedicto had better things to worry about.

He entered the atrium and looked up.

The three Basilicas sat next to each other, largely and imposingly, only differentiable by the slight coloring of their walls, and the symbols that stood above their respective gigantic doors.

All of the symbols had the same design. The trifariam, the three-pronged star, was the universal icon of the Doctrine or a Doctrinal affiliation. Each of the three prongs depicted one of the three founders of magic—Princess Santana la Luz, Prince Santiago el Oscuro, and Princess Santamaría la Gris—in the form in which they had died.

All trifariams were designed with the founders going around in that same order, but the three Orders of Magic differentiated themselves from each other by depicting the trifariam with their respective founders on the top prong.

The wizards of the Order of Light Magic depicted the trifariam with Santana on the top prong. The same way that Benedicto wore the trifariam at the end of the beaded chain around his neck.

All members of the Orders wore the trifariam around their neck, whether they served in a church, in a noble Household, or even in a military. It was a symbolization of their status as servants and professors of the teachings of God and magic.

The chain of beads wasn’t simply a symbol of status, however—on the contrary, every pious individual owned one, whether they be magic users or not. The actual trifariam at the end of the beaded chain could also be unclipped to switch whichever founder was at the top, as was commonplace when someone had cause to pray to all three. At the end of the day, the chain’s ultimate purpose was for prayer, as was the same with every form of the trifariam that could be found in the known world.

Still looking up at the trifariam above the doors to the Basilica De Santana, Benedicto did the sign of the star, blessing himself by touching his forehead, then his left shoulder, then his right shoulder.

He finished off by creating a trifariam with his fingers and giving it a light kiss—which was actually an exclusively western gesture. A non-westerner like Benedicto wouldn’t typically make this final gesture, but as he was now in service to the Royal Family—who maintained much of the traditions of their primarily-western ancestry—he had managed to pick it up.

Once he was done blessing himself, he continued forward and ascended the steps to the central headquarters of his Order.

As he walked in, one of the first things he noticed was the size of the building’s interior. He’d been in here his fair share of times, but it never ceased to amaze him how huge this place was.

Passing through the narthex, Benedicto then entered into the Basilica’s grand nave. The ceiling was as high as the highest of towers, and the room was big enough to house an entire town.

Monuments to notable figures in the history of Ravarra and the Doctrine lined the walls, and nearer to the other end of this massive hall stood the Altar of Light, and even further back at the very end of the hall sat the Throne of Light, where the Grand Wizard or Wizardess took their rightful place at the head of their Order, with sunlight shining down and shimmering onto both, which Benedicto thought was a nice touch.

He took a moment to bless himself again with the holy water by the door, then proceeded further into the structure that was the capital of his faith.

To his right, he passed by a kneeling group of knighted wizards and squiring apprentices, where a clerical wizardess ahead of them was leading a prayer with a couple of altar apprentices in front of a monument to the ancient Grand Wizardess Milagros. Benedicto could only assume that they were praying for a victory in whatever their next mission was.

As a Household wizard, Benedicto didn’t get to spend as much time in churches as he would have wanted to, but living in close proximity to the most important church in the realm had given him a lot more opportunity to do so, which he greatly appreciated.

All around him, clerical wizards and altar apprentices were going about their duties.

As he walked by, one of the little learners seemed to notice him, and for some reason, started to rush over to him to—.

Oh no.

No, no, no...

“Wizard Madera!”

WHY...!?

Benedicto steeled himself as he turned to address this tiny interloper.

“...Good day, Apprentice Inigo.”

The little altar apprentice came up to him and smiled like the happy little demon he was.

“Good day! It’s nice to see you again.”

“Right,” he nodded stiffly, “Wish I could stay to chat and all, but unfortunately I’ve got an urgent meeting with—.”

“—The cardinal! I know, she sent me to come get you once you arrived.”

“...She did, did she?”

...What did he do to deserve this?

“Yes! She’s waiting for you in her office,” he continued, “She should be just finishing up with her, uh, previous appointment. Come on, let’s go!”

Inigo started to lead him. Reluctantly—very, very reluctantly—Benedicto followed.

“I thought you were playing guide for the Quirnosi ambassador?” Benedicto asked, because he needed to know why God had seen fit to not only put this little monster in the same building as him, but to force him to follow him around like an obedient puppy.

“Oh,” he waved, “That was a temporary job. Guidance duty is a part of our training here. I imagine one of the newer apprentices is taking it on now,” the preadolescent demon looked up at him, “You look well. I like your new robes.”

“Thank you.”

Benedicto most certainly did not wish he could say the same...

Inigo’s cheeks started to turn red, which was probably his inner demon starting to come out as they went further into this holy place which he shouldn’t have had any part of.

“How’s... How’s Gilberto?”

THERE IT WAS!!!

There it was!

This little baby incubus’s only purpose in life was to steal Benedicto’s beloved Gilberto!

Well, Benedicto wasn’t gonna give him up that easily!

“Master Herrera,” he emphasized, “is just fine, he’s very happy. Very happy with me, because you know,” he side-eyed him, “he’s my lover.”

The miniature demon’s demon-cheeks turned redder, “Of—Of course, I... I just hope he’s doing well and all. He, umm... He’s... very nice...”

“Mhmm...”

Too nice for his own good...

The small devil audibly gulped as they rounded a corner, “Uh... Here we are.”

Just down the hall, the only noticeable door was open just a crack. As Benedicto approached the office, he began to hear voices coming from inside. One was that of a familiar, accented voice that made Benedicto imagine a chalice of poisoned honey. The other was a voice he didn’t recognize, but she sounded as angry as the swarm of bees whose honey had been stolen and poisoned.

“...just awful,” the honey-voice was saying, “Absolutely horrifying. Thank you for bringing this directly to our attention, madam.”

“I want him flayed!” The bee-voice demanded, “I want his head on a spike, and I want that spike sent to me to display on my roof!”

“I understand your pain,” the honey-voice sympathized, “I truly do. I promise you, I will have this disgusting matter addressed immediately. I am having a set of only the finest men and women assembled to deal with it as we speak.”

“Have it done immediately! I don’t want to risk the chance of him escaping what he has coming to him!”

“Of course. They will leave as soon as they are ready. I assure you, it will be dealt with as quickly as possible. Now...”

Benedicto heard some shifting as he got closer to the door...

“Could you do me one small favor...?”

“If you’re bringing that man to justice, I’ll sell you my life!”

“How touching...” the honey-voice purred, “Could you look at this for me, please...?”

“Huh—?”

SHPEW

Benedicto barely had time to cover his eyes as the white flash flared from the room. He had a brief instance where he forgot where he was or why he was here before his memories flooded back to him.

“Wh...” the other voice slurred, “Wha...?”

“Thank you so much for coming, madam Refugia. Please, have a safe trip home.”

“Uh... Yeah...”

Benedicto and Inigo stood to the side as a very confused-looking western woman exited the office, passing right by without noticing them.

Once she turned the corner, Benedicto emerged and went to the door, and Inigo tried to follow him.

Benedicto entered the bright, decent-sized office, and without looking back, closed the door behind him, purposefully ignoring Inigo’s protest as he was locked out. And then, he bowed.

“Cardinal Wizardess.”

At the other end of the room, behind the ostentatious desk, sat a woman reading papers. She had notable Isla features, dark hair with a few streaks of white tied back, and a face that looked much younger than she actually was, wearing the most extravagant white robes.

Cardinal Wizardess Consuela.

Head of the Light Diocese of the Isla Del Mar. One of twenty in the Sacred Circle of Light, the council of wizards and wizardesses who represented the Order’s presence in each of Ravarra’s regions, and stood only second in power to the Grand Wizard himself. Much like the Monarch’s Court, Benedicto imagined. And, Cardinal Wizardess Consuela was arguably the most powerful of them all.

The cardinals of the three Orders of Magic who represented the Isla were always the most powerful, because not only did they represent the Isla itself, but also all of Ravarra’s colonial territories, which didn’t have dioceses of their own.

But even without that, Cardinal Wizardess Consuela was powerful and influential in her own right.

Which was probably why she was the one who was filling in for Grand Wizard Geronimo while he was away in Armaya with the Queen Mother.

Without looking up from her papers, the Cardinal Wizardess held out her hand, palm down, a ring glimmering on her finger.

Benedicto crossed the room, reaching across the desk to take her hand, and gave the shining ring a light kiss.

Only when he let her go did she look up from her papers, giving him a treacherously beautiful smile that made his belly light.

“Wizard Benedicto,” her honeyed voice purred, “Please have a seat.”

Benedicto sat. The Cardinal Wizardess put down her paperwork and folded her hands on the table.

“I trust that you’ve been serving His Grace well,” she inquired, “And, have been keeping our Order’s name in his good graces.”

“Of course, Cardinal Wizardess,” he nodded, “I serve him with only the utmost faith and devotion.”

“Good.”

She sat back in the immense chair, lips parted and eyelids slightly down in a way that made Benedicto think about delicate flowers and colorful butterflies.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” the lips spoke, “I understand that being in service to the Crown Prince probably doesn’t present you with much extra time.”

“I manage,” Benedicto assured her, “What is it that you need of me?”

Her elegant hands started to arrange the papers on the desk.

“I have a task for you,” she told him, “of great importance. It will take a few days to complete, and you’ll be doing it with assistance. I’m sure you passed by the knighted wizards on your way in?” She nodded, “You’ll be leading them in this venture. And, Apprentice Inigo will be joining you as well.”

Inigo...

The Cardinal Wizardess’s dark, sharp eyes looked up and locked onto his.

“This will be an acceptable arrangement. Yes?”

Benedicto nodded, “Yes, Cardinal Wizardess, as you say. But...” his brow furrowed, “If I may... What exactly is this task we’re undertaking?”

The Cardinal Wizardess’s lips curved into another sweet smile.

“Yes. I have chosen you to lead this mission, because I hear that you have some experience in this field.”

She placed the papers down and folded her hands again, smile never leaving her lips.

“I understand that while you were apprentice to Wizard Maligno Del Fuego, he had you undertake some... cleanup jobs. From time to time.”

Benedicto’s heart sunk.

“Yes, Cardinal Wizardess. That... That, I did.”

He remembered those jobs well...

He remembered the first one the most.

He and Danita had been sent to a small village to... ‘deal with,’ accusations against the local church’s wizardess of, ‘inappropriate behavior,’ with a small girl.

He remembered the villagers’s angered shouts turning into bewildered chatter...

He remembered the girl’s face turning from petrified to confused in an instant...

And, he remembered Danita crying herself to sleep that night...

He looked back up into the Cardinal Wizardess’s dark eyes and kind smile.

“I’m sure you know how heavily the Kingdom relies on us to guide them in the eyes of God.”

“Yes, Cardinal Wizardess...”

“And, I’m sure you understand how consequential it is to continue to affirm the sanctified image of Our Lady of Light’s Holy Order.”

“Yes, Cardinal Wizardess...”

“Then, I’m sure you recognize,” her honeyed lips purred, “the absolute importance of maintaining that sanctified image for our Kingdom.”

She reached across the desk, and her soft, warm hands took a light hold of his.

“By any means necessary.”

Benedicto weighed his words, listening to everything she told him, everything she was asking of him, before nodding in affirmation.

“...Yes, Cardinal Wizardess.”

***

“...How does the Queen expect to make marriage of the same sex a thing?”

Benedicto touched the trifariam around his neck as the wagon rattled on along the road. They’d been on the road for days, cutting through the Kingdom’s west at a pace much faster than any average travelers, on their way to the destination where they were to complete the Cardinal Wizardess’s task...

“She is the Queen, is she not?” One of the wizards answered, “And, she has yet to meet any outright opposition from the Overseers or anybody else in power. If she wants to make it happen, it seems like she very well could.”

Benedicto was sharing this crowded covered wagon with the band of knighted wizards from before, as well as with Inigo, who sat across from him, contemplating.

“I think that would be nice...” the little apprentice put in.

“Nice, perhaps, but would it be possible?” The wizardess who had asked the question countered, “It would be an enormous change if it did happen. It’s never been done before.”

“Times do change as we go forward,” the wizard replied, “Besides, it would probably be the most fair thing to do. Marriage is about love, after all. Not just procreation.”

“My sister likes girls,” a squiring apprentice put in, “She and her lover love each other with all their hearts. I know they would like nothing more than to be given the chance to marry each other.”

“Fair, it could be, but that doesn’t answer the question of whether or not it’s possible,” the wizardess countered again, “Doctrinal scripture defines marriage as, ‘the unification in holy matrimony of a man and a woman.’”

Benedicto sat back, “It does say that. But, it also says that God’s children are free to make adjustments to traditional rule to better suit them, as long as it does not contradict the word of God.”

“...But, is that not contradictory?”

“No, it is not,” Benedicto stated, “Because, that definition wasn’t given by God, it was just a general statement in scripture. Much like the old statements that identified warriors as men and healers as women, or defined kingdoms as being passed down from father to son. God Himself never gave any spoken definition of those categories, which is why they aren’t restricted by gender today,” he shrugged, “It’s the same with marriage. God never said anything like that about marriage. But, He did tell us that He creates us all in His perfect image. And, He also told us that love was His gift to us. So, you tell me...”

He leaned forward.

“...If we are all created in His perfect image, and we are all given the gift of love... how can we truly presume to call ourselves children of God if we restrict His gift of love from others, just because it’s different from anything we’ve seen before?”

The wizardess had a genuinely puzzled and contemplative look on her face.

“I... suppose you have a point.”

The others in the wagon nodded along with her, and Inigo smiled in front of him.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Everyone looked to the front of the wagon as the driver rapped on the divider.

In that instant, every expression in the space turned dark.

Benedicto took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

He nodded, and pulled the hood of his robe up and over his eyes, blocking out the top half of his vision.

Inigo and the knighted wizards all did the same, the silence piercing the tone of their enclosed space.

After a few minutes, the wagon came to a stop.

CREAK

Sunlight peered into the wagon as the ramp-door was pulled down. Benedicto stood and led the rest of his companions out.

Immediately, he looked up at the church before him. At the three-pronged star with the Lady of Light situated at the top. He again started to finger that same star around his neck...

“Orders, sir?”

Benedicto snapped out of it, then turned to address his band.

“Follow Apprentice Inigo’s lead. Make this as quick and quiet as possible. You two,” he pointed, “Come with me.”

Everyone bowed their heads and proceeded with their tasks. Benedicto led the wizardess and the apprentice further down the road while Inigo led the rest into the church...

SHPEW

SHPEW SHPEW

A curious crowd started to gather around the church as the sounds and the flashes began within, and Benedicto just kept on walking. Walking toward the other building in their destination that had been provided.

Benedicto walked straight up to the inn and opened the door. To his left, cleaning some tables, he recognized the same confused woman who had left the Cardinal Wizardess’s office before his own appointment.

“Good day, madam Refugia,” he greeted, discreetly casting a persuasion spell, “May I speak with your son, please?”

“Uh,” still puzzled, she pointed behind her counter, “Sure, he’s in the back.”

“Thank you.”

He crossed the room and went to the door behind the counter. He nodded to his two companions, who took up positions on either side of the door, and then he opened and entered.

In what was apparently a small pantry, Benedicto found a boy probably a year or two older than him sorting ingredients. He was pretty cute, Benedicto decided, with full cheeks and innocent eyes. Leaving almost as quickly as it came, an image of Gilberto flashed through his mind...

“H-Hello,” the boy looked at him confusedly, “Who... Who are you?”

Benedicto gave him a friendly smile and took his hand.

“Hello, Roberto, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I was sent by the Basilica. I understand you’ve had some trouble with Wizard Adolfo at the church.”

The boy’s expression dropped as he looked at his feet, “Oh...”

Benedicto pulled him over to a place to sit, “It’ll be alright, Roberto. I just need you to answer some questions for me. Can you do that?”

“O-Okay...”

“Thank you,” he gripped his wand, “Now please, start from the beginning...”

Over the next several minutes, Benedicto sat through Roberto’s recollections of everything that the wizard had done to him. He listened to details about how friendly and touchy he’d been. About the constant insistence to spend more time alone together. About the, ‘spells,’ he performed that, for some reason, required him to get a bit handsy. About the, ‘rituals,’ he performed that, for some reason, required the boy to be almost naked...

“...He kept saying that it was for my own good, a-and...” he stuttered, “and that I would... l-learn to like it... I... I...”

Benedicto touched his shoulder.

“Thank you for your cooperation, Roberto, I know it can’t have been easy. I’m sorry this happened to you...”

He sniffled, “Th-Thank you...”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be okay. Soon, this’ll all be forgotten...”

Roberto looked confused again, as Benedicto held up his wand.

“I just need you to do one more thing for me. When I’m done, everything will be all better. I promise.”

The tip of his wand started to glow...

“Uh...”

“You’re going to be okay, Roberto. Soon, the pain will be all gone, I promise you. Just look. Right. Here...”

SHPEW

When he was done, he and his companions left the inn, returning to the church.

The curious crowd had grown larger, gasping and murmuring at what they witnessed. Inigo and the rest of the wizards emerged from the building just as Benedicto returned, carrying a large sack that they pulled into the wagon.

“Deal with the witnesses,” Benedicto told Inigo, “We leave as soon as possible... I’ll be right back.”

Inigo nodded, and Benedicto turned and entered the now-empty church.

He walked slowly through the pews, letting the sunlight gleam on him through the windows, as his eyes locked onto the icon of Santana la Luz, his Princess of Light, above the altar.

He felt wetness rolling down his cheeks as it started to get harder and harder to walk, and when he finally reached the altar, he collapsed to his knees, removing the three-pronged star from his neck and wrapping it around his clasped hands, and began to bawl in the sanctity of the house of God, begging for forgiveness.

***

“I want to bottom tonight.”

Danilo looked up at his liege as they were seated at the dinner table, “This seems like an odd time to be planning out our bedroom activity.”

“I have a craving,” Victor smiled at him as Danilo’s relatives chattered on at the other side of the table, hopefully not overhearing any of this, “I’ve had it all day. I haven’t bottomed in a while, and I think my butt is sad from lack of attention. Want to make it feel better?”

‘Feel better,’ was one way to put it...

“Sure,” Danilo murmured, “But, can we please discuss this later? Preferably, when my grandfather isn’t sitting right over there?”

Victor shrugged, “Whatever you say.”

“Thank you.”

He couldn’t really blame him, though. Danilo usually preferred to bottom with boys, but Victor did top a lot. Just because that’s what people usually expected of him, Danilo included. He just gave off that tone that said, ‘top,’ but in truth, he liked to bottom too, so Danilo couldn’t blame him for wanting to switch it up. He just wished they didn’t have to talk about this at the dinner table...

“And, don’t worry,” Victor winked at him, “I’ll try not to get pregnant.”

Danilo rolled his eyes. It had hardly been fair of Victor and Eloísa to tease him like that just because he wanted to be safe. Considering the fact that he had an illegitimate nephew—Damián, via his sister, Dalia—Danilo felt that his concern for sexual safety was justified.

“...Apparently the church near the marketplace didn’t open it’s doors today.”

Danilo paused.

He looked at the rest of his family. His grandfather, Lord Aldo, sat at the head of the table, and across from Danilo sat his uncle, Commander Amaranto Peña, and his very pregnant aunt, Dame Lucinda Quintana Peña.

“That’s unusual,” his grandfather noted, “Was there any reason given?”

Danilo hoped that reason involved chains and a prison cell...

“None,” his uncle shook his head, “It was just locked, no explanation. Maybe the wizard was sick or something.”

Sick?

“There’s no news about the wizard at all?”

Everyone looked at Danilo.

“No,” Uncle Amaranto confirmed, “None that I’ve heard of, at least.”

“Should there be?” Aunt Lucinda asked him.

“There should...” Danilo muttered.

“Hmm,” his grandfather mused, “Well, if something has happened to him, I suppose all we can do is hope for this wizard’s full recovery.”

Danilo’s uncle and aunt voiced their agreement, but Danilo and Victor kept their mouths shut.

Not a single word...

Something was really off...

Danilo turned to Victor, “I think we should pay the church a visit after dinner.”

“What do you think happened?”

“I don’t know,” he picked at his food, “But, I intend to find out...”

***

Danilo strode through the marketplace with Victor and the squires, and the only thing he took notice of was how... normal everything was.

He felt like word of Wizard Adolfo’s sins would have spread through town by now. But... everybody was just going about their lives like nothing had happened. Like that confrontation days ago hadn’t happened...

Like what had happened to Refugia’s son hadn’t happened...

Something was clearly off...

As he was walking, he spotted a familiar stall and stopped. Maybe that vendor had heard something. She had been here during the confrontation, she might’ve known a little more about what could have happened.

The vendor yawned as Danilo and his companions approached, “Good afternoon, evening, what-the-fuck-ever, what can I do ya for?”

“Hi,” Danilo nodded, “Do you by any chance know what happened to Wizard Adolfo?”

She made a face, “Who?”

“Uh,” he tilted his head, “The wizard that the innkeeper was yelling at a few days ago? Do you know why he hasn’t opened the doors to the church?”

The vendor just blinked at him for a moment.

“...I haven’t got a clue what the fuck you’re talking about, friend,” she looked him up and down, “Have you been hitting that, ‘secret ingredient,’ at the Armayan stall...?”

“What? No!”

He mentally noted that he needed to get this Armayan stall shut down, though...

...Unless they were willing to give him a reasonable cut of their profits, of course...

Victor stepped forward, “Look, we’re just confused by this is all. Can you tell us anything about why the church didn’t open it’s doors today?”

“I’m more of a go-to-church-on-the-holidays-only kinda girl, I haven’t got a clue what goes on with them,” she swatted a hand, “Look, I don’t know if you’re all intoxicated or just oblivious, but I’ve got potions to sell, so,” she waved them away, “do you mind?”

Danilo shared looks with Victor and the squires. He thanked the vendor, and then continued on his way toward the church.

“Well, looks like it is locked,” Moro noted as they stopped in front of it.

Mara sighed, “Thank you for the input, Commander Obvious...”

“Shut up!”

“Children, please, not now,” Victor turned to him, “What do you think, Danilo?”

Danilo looked up at the church.

It was definitely quiet in there...

Hmm...

...Well, he did know of one person who might have some answers.

“I have an idea,” he told him, “You and Mara stay here, just in case anything happens. I’ll be right back.”

Victor nodded, and then Danilo and Moro left and headed to the inn.

“What do you think is going on?” Moro asked.

“I wish I had a clue. I’m hoping the innkeeper will know something that we don’t.”

“You think maybe her complaints didn’t get heard?”

“They should have,” Danilo stated, “This is hardly the sort of thing that goes unnoticed.”

They reached the inn, and much like the rest of the area, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

Moro opened the door for him and led him inside.

“Oh!”

As soon as they entered, they ran into a small boy a little younger than Moro with Refugia’s same features. He looked at both of them, mostly Moro, seemingly interested in his armor.

“H-Hello...”

Moro glanced at Danilo, then smiled at the boy, “Hi. You must be Roberto.”

“Y-Yes, I’m—yes. That’s...” he shifted shyly, “That’s me.”

“Is your mother around?” Danilo asked.

“She’s upstairs,” he told them, “She’s busy cleaning the rooms, I-I can...” he glanced at Moro, “I can help you, if you want.”

Hm...

Well if anyone, this poor boy would probably know.

He needed to be gentle about this, though...

“Okay,” Danilo agreed, “My apologies if this is an uncomfortable subject, but we want to know about what’s going on at the church.”

“The... church?”

“Yes,” he nodded, “Again, I’m sorry, but do you know anything about what’s happened to Wizard Adolfo?”

“Wizard... Adolfo?”

...Okay, that wasn’t right...

“Um,” Danilo nodded again, “Yes, the church wizard. The one that... uhh...” he was going to hell... “...touched you...?”

At that moment, Roberto gave him the most confused and perplexed look that Danilo had ever seen.

“...Why would a wizard touch me?”

...

...

...

...Danilo was gonna scream.

Roberto’s shy eyes landed on Moro again, glancing up and down his armor.

Well, this was hardly the time to play matchmaker, but right now it seemed like the best option.

“Stay with him,” Danilo ordered, “Try to see if you can,” he shook his head, “calm him down or something, I don’t know. Does he look calm? Whatever. I’m going back to the church.”

“Uh, yes, master Nazario.”

At least Roberto wouldn’t be alone...

He stormed out, and went back to the church. Victor and Mara were still in that same spot when he arrived.

“Hey,” Victor nodded, “Find anything? Where’s Moro?”

“He’s with Roberto. Look, Victor, something...” he waved his hands around, “something is off about this whole situation! Nobody seems to remember anything, not a single damn thing! I think there’s something much, much bigger going—!”

CREAK

Victor and Mara both jumped into positions as the door to the church opened...

...And, a little boy poked his head out.

“Oh,” he looked at them all, “Hello there.”

Everyone looked at each other before returning their attention to this strange boy.

“Hello...” Danilo answered cautiously, “Who are you...?”

“I’m Inigo,” he smiled cheerfully, “Apprentice Inigo. And, you are...?”

“...Uh, Danilo,” he crossed his arms, “Danilo of House Nazario...”

“Ooh!” Inigo’s face brightened, “You must be that merchant who paid for Refugia’s travel expenses! The Holy Order of Light Magic thanks you for your valiant service in helping to bring the situation with Wizard Adolfo to our attention.”

What.

The.

Fuck.

...The dots were all starting to connect now.

“Mhm,” he nodded slowly, “And, now that we’re the last people to know about it, are you going to wipe our memories like you did with everybody else?”

Victor and Mara looked scandalized as Inigo giggled.

“Of course not! I can’t do that if you’re expecting it.”

Danilo’s grip on his own arms tightened.

“...Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have my friends here run you through with their swords right now.”

“Aside from the fact that it would be a sin?” Inigo fully stepped out of the church, “I’ve got a proposition for you.”

Proposition!?

“...What proposition?” He asked.

The boy held up his hands, “Look, we did a good thing here. Wizard Adolfo isn’t here to abuse the innkeeper’s boy any longer, and now nobody will ever have to remember that disgusting turn of events ever again. All we need from you,” he folded his hands in front of him, “is to keep your mouths shut.”

“‘Shut?’ Are you insane?” Danilo demanded, “A little boy barely older than you was abused by a proclaimed servant of God. He deserves justice, not erasure, and meddling with the brains of an entire village is hardly a righteous act either! If you think I’m gonna just let this go without consequence, you’re out of your little—!”

JINGLE

Danilo caught the pouch as it flew toward his face.

“Stop digging around,” Inigo folded his hands again, “And, there’s more where that came from. So... what’ll it be?”

Danilo stared at him.

He held the pouch in his hand, opened it...

...And, saw gold.

He closed it back.

He stood there in silence as he weighed his options...

...

...

...

...Then, he pocketed the pouch, and folded his hands in the same manner as the little boy.

“...Very well, Apprentice Inigo. I’m sure we can come to some arrangement.”

***

Danilo sat at the little desk in his room, counting up his new profits.

Fifty gold Founders...

He could buy his own ship if he wanted to.

Hell, he could buy a whole flotilla of ships!

He could picture it now... A whole fleet of ships under his command, sailing the Mar Salvaje, and pillaging every shore of their gold, jewels, and pretty boys!...

...Ah, who was he kidding?

Not every shore had gold and jewels.

Maybe he could make up for it by pillaging their pretty girls too.

He could amass a harem to make the slaveholders of Pentoz jealous!

Now, that would be a worthy goal!

“Question!” Danilo turned to the squires, “How much gold would it take for you two to kiss?”

Mara and Moro both made disgusted faces.

“...Sounds like that’s not on the table,” Victor answered for them.

Danilo shrugged, “Your loss.” And, turned back to his riches.

He continued to count his coins. Count and count and count... until he couldn’t take the silence anymore.

“Okay,” Danilo sighed and turned back to the squires, “The one time you two shut up when I don’t want you to. I know you want to say something. Speak.”

“...Th-This isn’t right!”

“Moro—!”

“No, I mean it!” Squire Moro scowled, “Roberto was wronged! Whether he remembers it or not! You said yourself that he deserves justice, but now you’re just sitting here,” he pointed, “counting coins! It’s not right!”

He and Roberto were really getting close.

Sounds like he’d made the right decision leaving the two together.

Danilo looked at Victor, who just shrugged with a smirk. Danilo smirked back, turning back to his desk.

“You’re right. It probably would be wrong of me to just sit here and bathe in the riches I got from allowing Roberto’s injustice to go unpunished.”

“It is wrong!”

“Good thing that’s not what I’m doing...”

He pulled up one silver Thespian, which should’ve been enough for a comfortable boat trip.

“...Wh-What?”

“Apprentice Inigo only paid me to stop digging around...”

He turned his smirk on the squires.

“...But, he didn’t pay me to stop anyone else from digging around...”

***

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Edmundo asked, “You don’t have to...”

“I want to,” Franco assured him, smiling up at him, “I’ve wanted to for a while. I’m curious what it’s like. If you’ll let me, I’d love to give it try...?”

Edmundo and Franco were in the outermost storage room in the Del Mar citadel. They were searching for a certain Calandria painting, the same one that they searched for every day, and were never going to find, because Amador Del Mar had never actually intended for them to find it when he sent the two of them into this secluded, empty room alone. He had been right about it being spooky, but being alone here with Franco made it significantly less scary.

Edmundo nodded, “Okay...”

Franco gave him a gorgeous smile before he looked back down again.

He reached up and started to unlace Edmundo’s pants. Edmundo’s heart started beating fast as they came undone, and Franco pulled until Edmundo’s hard dick was freed.

Franco took Edmundo in his hands, pulling him closer to his face as he scooted forward. Once it was right in front of him, he stuck his tongue out and gave it a lick.

Edmundo gasped at the jolt of pleasure.

Franco smiled up at him again, “I like it!”

“I... I like it too...”

Franco looked back down, sticking his tongue out again and giving it another lick. Edmundo tried to control his breathing as more and more licks came. Finally, after one more lick, Franco took Edmundo’s head into his mouth.

Edmundo gripped the sides of the box he was sitting on. Slowly, Franco started to bob his head up and down, sliding further and further onto him every time.

By the time his entire length was inside Franco’s mouth, Edmundo was already starting to feel close. After just a few more bobs, he couldn’t hold it anymore, and he released, letting his cum shoot down Franco’s throat.

Franco choked a little, but he didn’t let go, and when Edmundo was done shooting, he pulled off with a pop.

He breathed in heavily. He smiled up at Edmundo. And, Edmundo smiled back.

KNOCK KNOCK

“Master Valenzuela? Are you there?”

“Uh—!” Edmundo shot up, almost yelping when his penis accidentally slapped Franco in the head, “Y-Yes, I’m in here!”

Edmundo just barely had time to put himself away before the door opened. Sir Josue the silly-haired knight came in.

“Master Valenzuela,” he bowed his head, “I have been sent to retrieve you. If you would please come with me?”

“Um, yes,” Edmundo nodded embarrassedly, “Just... give me one moment.”

“Very well.”

Sir Josue left the room, and Edmundo sighed in relief...

...And, his pants fell down.

Edmundo blushed as Franco had to help him pull them back up. Franco kissed his cheek once he was done lacing him up, and they gave each other one last smile before Edmundo left the room and followed after the knight.

Edmundo followed him through the citadel until they reached the portrait hall, which was mostly empty except for—.

“Master Nazario?”

Danilo Nazario was standing in the portrait hall admiring the paintings. The two of them didn’t know each other very well, but Danilo’s brother was married to Edmundo’s sister, so they weren’t complete strangers. He was supposed to be on the mainland. What was he doing here?

Danilo turned to them and nodded to the knight, “Thank you, Sir.”

Sir Josue saluted and left them alone.

Danilo smiled at him, “Good day, Edmundo.”

“Good day,” Edmundo nodded, “Um, what brings you here?”

Danilo was silent for a moment. He turned and looked back at the painting he’d been looking at before. A landscape of a cliffside with a wizard’s church.

“...I need a favor...”

Chapter Text

***(1)***

Esteban shifted, trying to get comfortable. It didn’t work, so he shifted again. And again, it didn’t work. Every angle he tried, it felt like a part of his head was gonna melt off. He tried burying his head under the pillow, which didn’t work, because now he couldn’t breathe comfortably. Finally, he gave up, peeling his eyes open and sitting up, “Will you please put that out!?”

Victor stared at him, a bunch of letters in his lap, and that damn candle blazing on the bedside table next to him.

“I’m reading correspondence.”

Esteban collapsed back in the bed, “Well, I don’t know who this, ‘correspondence,’ bitch is, but I’m sure she’ll still be here to ride your cock in the morning.”

Victor snorted, “Well, I’d planned to finish these up in the afternoon, but,” he shrugged, “I hadn’t expected us to fuck for so long.”

“That’s your own fault,” Esteban turned on his side away from him, “You were the one who suddenly wanted to fuck.”

“That’s true.”

Esteban sighed. He finally found a position where the candlelight didn’t feel like it was burning into his brain, and got comfortable. He started to drift to sleep...

“Hey, Esteban?”

Esteban’s eyes shot open, “What!?”

It was too late in the night for this shit!

What could he possibly want that was too important to let his Prince sleep!?

“Sorry,” he chuckled, like this was some sort of fucking joke, “I just had a question.”

Esteban rubbed his eye as he sat up, “What do you want?”

“This letter,” he pointed, “It’s asking who the heir presumptive would be should something happen to you and your grandmother.”

That was rude.

Some people really didn’t understand how disrespectful of a question, ‘what will happen if you and your family die,’ was.

“Lady Mendoza,” he answered, “She’s next in line for the throne after my grandmother.”

Victor looked confused, “Why is that?”

“...Because, she’s the next of kin,” it really wasn’t that hard to figure out, “She’s my mother’s cousin, so after me and my grandmother, she’s her closest relative.”

“But, why would your grandmother be before her?” Victor asked, “Lady Esmeralda is the daughter of a Princess, so she has the closest blood relation to House Reyes out of anyone,” he looked at him, “Your grandmother doesn’t have any recent Reyes blood in her. Why would she be next after you?”

“Because, she is a Reyes.”

“...She’s a Mendoza.”

“By blood,” he clarified, “She’s a Reyes by marriage, and therefore by name, which is why she comes before Esmeralda.”

Victor still looked confused.

Esteban scooted closer to him, “What do you know about the First Succession War?”

“Uh,” he appeared thoughtful, “That was the one with Queen Cierra the Peacemaker, right? Her husband died without giving her heirs, and then the Queen’s father, a Travieso, and her niece, Lady Rosales, both claimed to be the next in line for the succession, and started a war. Queen Cierra put an end to it by remarrying to a Rosales and finally producing heirs.”

“She did. And, she also renegotiated the line of succession to appease the King Father,” he explained, “She made it so that, should something happen to the monarch and their heirs, the throne’s succession would prioritize someone who was a member of the House by marriage over someone who possessed the blood, but not the name,” he smiled, “The name takes priority over the blood. It was quite a liberal decision. Even to this day.”

“Quite,” Victor nodded, “So, if something were to happen that put a... ‘Reyes-by-marriage,’ like your grandmother on the throne, how would the succession work after that?”

“Well, my grandmother is far too old to have anymore children, so Esmeralda would still come after her,” he stated, “But, if she could have more children, she would, and those children would succeed her. And, as she is a Reyes, her children would too be named Reyes after her.”

“Despite not sharing blood with the original line?”

“Well,” he shrugged, “most noble bloodlines have a little bit of Reyes blood in them anyway, which I’m sure is what led Queen Cierra to make the decision, so it likely wouldn’t go totally extinct.”

Victor looked thoughtful again, “What if your father were still alive? Where would he be in the succession?”

“If he were alive, he would come after my grandmother. Since they’re both members of House Reyes, that would be where blood relation comes back into play, but this time, it would be blood relation to the most recent monarch instead of to the House as a whole. Obviously, my mother’s mother is more closely related than my mother’s husband.”

Victor nodded, “That’s very interesting. I had no idea there could be such liberal laws in place about blood relation. It’s usually so important for highborns.”

Esteban laid back in the bed, “Well, my family has always had a reputation for pragmatism. Now, please go to sleep.”

“I will,” he stated, “After I’m done with this correspondence.”

Esteban scowled, “Tell correspondence to suck my dick!”

“Well, if you think correspondence is a, ‘she,’ I don’t think you—.”

“Goodnight, Victor!”

Victor snorted, “Goodnight, Esteban.”

***(2)***

“I’m starving,” Yazmin yawned, “Where’s what’s-his-name? Curly hair. I wanna eat.”

Esteban couldn’t argue there.

He was sitting in the main room of his living quarters with Victor, Ignacio, and Yazmin, waiting for Gilberto and Benedicto to arrive with breakfast.

Thanks to Victor, he hadn’t gotten the sleep he’d wanted to last night—he should throw him in the dungeon or something—so if he was going to keep himself awake for the whole day, he was gonna need some maté.

“I’m sure he’ll be here shortly,” Victor answered.

“Not shortly enough...”

As if on cue, the door to his chambers opened. Gilberto stepped in, followed by Benedicto, both carrying breakfast on two covered trays.

“Finally!” Yazmin shot up and sauntered over to the door.

“Ah—!” Gilberto almost tripped as she swiped the tray right out of his hands before sauntering back to the table. Esteban saw Benedicto smirk at him before heading for the indoor balcony with the other tray.

Yazmin placed the tray down and practically ripped the dome off of the food, dropping it to the floor with a clang that startled Esteban’s, Victor’s, and Ignacio’s cats.

“Charming...” Ignacio muttered.

“Okay!” Yazmin smiled, “Who’s eating what?”

Esteban retrieved his breakfast, a plate of arepas and his long-awaited cup of maté, while everyone else gathered their own.

He took a sip of his tea, and instantly started to feel much better.

“Oh. Your Grace?” Gilberto asked as he set down four bowls of milk for the cats, “You remember Rufo? He wants to borrow use of the kitchens for a couple hours next week to prepare for David’s quinceañero.”

“Really?” Esteban was surprised, “He requested that?”

Rufo and David were two of the Palace’s manservants. It seemed highly unusual for a servant in any castle to make such a huge request, much less one in the Founder’s Palace.

“Well, not exactly,” Gilberto smiled, “I may have overheard him make an offhand mention that it would be nice to use the Palace kitchens to prepare for David’s quinces, despite the apparent fact that that would be impossible,” he played with his hair, “And, I may have decided to take it upon myself to try and make the impossible happen.”

Ah, that made more sense.

Gilberto often liked to do little things like that. It must have been nice for people to have a friend who had the ear of Ravarra’s Crown Prince.

Esteban shrugged, “Why not? But, I want you to supervise,” he ordered, “Make sure they don’t leave a mess.”

He didn’t want to have to explain to his mother next week why dinner was late. She probably wouldn’t have minded, but still, he didn’t feel like doing that.

“Yes, Your Grace. Thank you,” he bowed his head, and left to join Benedicto to eat.

“Mm, David and Rufo,” Yazmin elbowed Ignacio, almost making him spill his hot chocolate, “You fucked that pair, didn’t you, Duran?”

Oh. Esteban hadn’t known that, but he probably should’ve figured.

From what he’d seen, David and Rufo acted as close as brothers in public, but according to Gilberto, they were actually lovers in secret.

Ignacio sure did seem to have a thing for doing boys two at a time.

Ignacio’s cheeks turned that funny shade of red, “I may have had an encounter with them once or twice, yes.”

Yazmin chuckled, “‘Once or twice.’ Ay,” she sighed, “Fifteen. God, the memories I have from my quinceañera...”

“Agreed...” Ignacio muttered.

“Me too,” Esteban agreed, “My fifteenth birthday was... an experience to remember.”

“You don’t have to tell me, Graciousness!” Yazmin smiled widely, “I remember that experience well!”

Victor looked at him, “What happened?”

Esteban bit his lip, “My quinces was pretty extravagant. I was... quite popular throughout the Ciudad that day.”

Yazmin winked, “Quite popular with the feminine half of the Ciudad, more specifically.”

Ugh...

That was an experience he did not need to remember...

“Oh,” Victor looked amused, “Why was that?”

Esteban shrugged, “It was my quinceañero.”

“But, how did that make you more popular with girls?”

Everyone stared at him.

“...Because,” Ignacio spoke up, “that’s when he became... legally of age.”

“...They all wanted to marry him?”

Yazmin scoffed, “Is he serious!?”

Esteban couldn’t help the snickers that escaped him, and reached out to pinch his lover’s adorable cheek, “Legally of age for sex, sweetheart.”

“Oh!” Victor blushed, “Right. I... forgot about that.”

“‘Forgot?’” Yazmin pointed, “What was your quinces like, Eyes? Nobody ever teased you about being legal?”

“Uh, maybe?” Victor scratched his head, “I don’t actually remember my quinces well. I was... too busy taking advantage of the fact that I was now allowed to drink.”

“Ooh!” Yazmin beamed, “I like you!”

“That sounds adorable,” Esteban laughed.

In his head, he pictured a drunk Victor stumbling around his little village.

That sounded hilarious!

Victor looked shy for a moment. But then, he made a face.

“Wait a minute...” he looked at Ignacio, “You had sex with David. You had sex with someone underage?”

Ignacio’s face looked like it would burst.

“...I may have...”

Esteban smirked and called out, “Gilberto! When does Rufo turn fifteen?”

“Rufo?” Gilberto called back, “Uh, I think in two or three months.”

Victor stared at Ignacio, “Two someones underage!?”

“They’re not that much younger than us!”

“Yes, but still,” Esteban smiled at him, “Underage children shouldn’t technically be having sex with someone overage.”

Ignacio curled up and hid his red face behind his chocolate cup.

“Underage children shouldn’t technically be having sex at all,” Yazmin put in, before raising her voice, “But, that doesn’t seem to stop a certain bald wizard and his spy companion!”

Benedicto and Gilberto both glared down at her.

Esteban snorted and sipped some of his maté.

Clearly, this was going to be another one of those days.

***(3)***

After breakfast, Esteban decided to take a stroll through the gardens with his retinue. Which, of course, meant that most of their time was spent bickering instead of enjoying the flowers.

As Yazmin and Benedicto continued to argue about something to do with their clothes, the group came across Incendio and a couple of perplexed knights. The knights were watching in shock as the adolescent dragon got very... personal with the statue of King Basilio the Proud.

ROAR, ‘Oooh... Dick... Right there.’

The knights looked at Esteban for instruction.

Whatever, his grandfather had been an asshole anyway.

He shrugged, and he and his retinue moved on.

As they walked, Esteban noticed Benedicto start to tug at his leggings.

“Something wrong?”

“See, what’d I tell you,” Yazmin pointed, “If they’re the wrong size, they’ll be uncomfortable. Trust me, I know. If you need adjustments, I know a guy.”

“It’s not that they’re the wrong size, they’re just tight,” he told them, “I grew up wearing dresses, I just need to get used to wearing something that rides up my ass sometimes. Plus, you know,” he waved dismissively, “the genital thing.”

“Oh, but, Madera,” Yazmin teased, “you’d think you would like something to ride all the way up your ass.”

Benedicto glared at her, while Victor looked between the two of them.

“...But, Benedicto doesn’t have a... you know,” he looked at him, “...Do you?”

“A prostate? No, I don’t.”

Yazmin smirked, “Come now, kid. Who said you need a prostate to enjoy a little ass-play?”

“Oh. Uh,” Victor blushed, “No-one, I guess.”

Then, Yazmin gave Benedicto a curious look, “That is a good question, though. Did your sex change ritual give you any sort of... anything back there?”

Benedicto blushed this time, “Um, well... It’s none of your business, but,” he crossed his arms, “I guess my... ‘happy spot,’ from my vagina was moved back a bit...”

Just then, Gilberto tugged on Esteban’s sleeve. Esteban leaned down as Gilberto leaned up to whisper in his ear, “Which I can attest to...”

“What was that!?”

Gilberto placed his hands behind his back and smiled sweetly, “Nothing, sugarcane. I was just reminding His Grace that we shouldn’t be late for the play this afternoon.”

“Uh-huh...”

“The ritual,” Ignacio spoke up, “It made you infertile?”

“Probably,” Benedicto stated, “I mean, I’m not sure what would happen if I had the ritual reversed, but I can’t put a baby in anyone, no.”

“That’s a shame... Who’s going to succeed you as head of your House, then?”

He shrugged, “Probably my cousin, Beatriz, and her eventual offspring. House Madera isn’t as small as it seems. We’re not going extinct anytime soon.”

Ignacio looked at the ground, “I wish I had your luck...”

Yazmin punched his arm, “Lighten up, Duran, you’ll do fine. You don’t have to worry about the heirs thing right away. Hell, I’ve been leading two Houses just fine these past couple years, I’m unmarried, and some days I don’t even leave the bed!”

He gave her a blank stare, “That’s easy for you to say. A minor noble whose Houses’s lands are adjacent to each other... And who possesses attraction for the opposite sex...”

“Begrudgingly!” Yazmin countered.

Esteban didn’t know about that. She seemed pretty happy liking men from what he’d seen. She did clearly like women better, though.

“Isn’t there a... boner spell or something you could use? And, a transferring spell to help you get the, uh... ‘contents,’ to the, ‘carrier,’” Victor suggested, “If you got married, you could use those to help you have children.”

“I could. With help,” he looked back down, “But, it won’t be fun...”

Esteban didn’t doubt it.

He wasn’t looking forward to figuring that part out himself.

He had promised himself a long time ago that he would never marry a woman as long as he lived. But, producing Ravarra’s next King or Queen... that was something he couldn’t back out of.

The leading potential option he had was some form of surrogacy. This was also the leading proposal for producing heirs if his mother did make same sex marriage a thing. A legally-contracted surrogate of the opposite sex, to either provide the seed for a female same sex couple, or to carry the baby for a male same sex couple. Obviously, it wasn’t anywhere near as ideal as having the child with one’s spouse, but it was a sacrifice that needed to be made for the good of people like Esteban and Ignacio. Of course, finding the perfect surrogate wasn’t going to be an easy task either...

One thing Esteban envied about the common people was how trivial the matter of blood had become to them. No doubt, if same sex marriage were created, common same sex couples could just adopt children to inherit... whatever it was that commoners inherited. It would certainly be tremendous for all the homeless orphans out there. Unfortunately, such an arrangement could never be possible for the nobility, for whom bloodlines were crucial to everything.

And then, of course, there was the last one. The secret one that no one knew about. Esteban had only known about it, because Marina had once uncovered a brief mention of it in her studies as pupil to the Supreme Witch.

Magical procreation. This was different from the transferring of seed to egg that Victor had suggested, for this ritual didn’t require any sort of physical procreation at all. Just two bonded souls. It sounded too good to be true, for sure, and they had no idea what it actually entailed. But, Marina had sounded extremely sure of what little she’d learned when she told them...

But, whatever this ritual was, it was definitely ancient, and probably long forgotten. And, if it wasn’t forgotten, it was definitely a secret, otherwise everyone would know about it.

Which was why they had to keep that information to themselves for now. Esteban may have been the future ruler of the realm, but he wasn’t willing to get on the Doctrine’s bad side over a rumor of possible forbidden magic. And, he didn’t need anyone else getting in trouble for it either.

He just hoped Feliciano, Amador, and Aurelio knew how to keep their big mouths shut...

“Well,” Victor smiled, “Whatever the case, there has to be something out there for us. I’m sure we can figure it out together.”

Ignacio looked up, “You think so?”

“Sure! If anyone were to achieve the impossible, it would definitely be us.”

That was a good point.

A source, a chosen one, a skillful spy, and a couple of good magic users? And, a sassy nonconformist, if Yazmin were interested.

If anyone were to achieve the impossible, it would definitely be them.

***(4)***

“When Santos witnessed the trifariam form,
Cooome tooo the holy land,
He broke the bonds that his people adorned,
Cooome tooo the holy land!”

Esteban sat up in the Royal booth of the Thespian’s Theater, watching the performance below. The play being shown was, ‘A Woman Called Santos.’ Ignacio’s cat was, predictably, enjoying the performance for it’s title alone. It was a shame that Esteban’s mother was tied up with Court business, because she was missing an especially marvelous performance.

“You...” the Del Fuego Princess stared, “You are the woman called Santos. Aren’t you?”

Ignacio’s cat purred loudly as the lead performer nodded in determination.

“I am, Highness. And, I will not rest until my brothers and sisters are free!”

The play detailed the life story of Grand Wizardess Milagros, a Selvaran slave who escaped from bondage, and made it her personal mission to bring an end to slavery in Cuatro Reinos, prior to and during the Unificación, under the nickname, ‘Santos.’ A little slave girl who became a chosen one, and who would one day rise to become both Ravarra’s first female and first eastern Overseer of Magic. It was quite an inspiring story.

“I have seen the horrors enacted upon the lowest of the lowborn firsthand,” the Princess stated, “I would help you if I could, Milagros, truly. But, I lost my birthright when my idiot brother slid from the womb. All because I was born to wear a skirt.”

“All who are free have the ability to help, Your Highness,” Milagros told her, “It is only a matter of where and how.”

Just then, Victor leaned over to Esteban, “Why did she call her that?”

“What?”

“‘Your Highness,’” he asked, “I hear those in plays all the time. ‘Highness,’ and, ‘Majesty.’ What do they mean?”

Oh. Esteban sat back, “That was how royalty was addressed in Cuatro Reinos. And, it’s also how they’re addressed in Armaya today. ‘Highness,’ for Princes and Princesses, ‘Majesty,’ for Kings and Queens.”

“But... why?”

“That’s just the way it is.”

“But,” he looked confused, “what about, ‘Your Grace?’”

Esteban smiled, “That one is unique to my family. Ever since the fall of Corazones, members of House Reyes have been styled as, ‘Your Grace,’ in honor of Lord Santos for founding our religion. When Marcel became King, he chose to continue that tradition instead of being styled, ‘Majesty,’ which is why today, not just the monarch, but all members of House Reyes are styled as, ‘Grace.’”

“Ohh.”

Esteban shook his head.

Adorable imbecile.

A couple minutes later, the Princess took Milagros’s hand.

“I will help you, Milagros. If my father will not see reason, I will make him see it. With God as my witness, I will see all people of the realms become free!”

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

Victor leaned over again, “What was the Princess’s name, again?”

“Caliente.”

Caliente Del Fuego. Who had quite a story of her own. After absolute primogeniture and equal inheritance for women were legitimized, Caliente became the first woman in Reinos history to inherit and become lady of a House in her own right.

Victor snickered, “Right.”

“What is it?”

“I’m sorry,” he covered his mouth, “It’s just... ‘Caliente.’”

Esteban smiled, “Oh. Her name amuses you, does it?”

“A little, yes,” he shook his head, “Caliente, Malvado, Maligno...”

“Mhm. And, Caliente’s, ‘idiot brother,’ was Fuerte.”

“Goodness...”

“And, you want to know something else?” Esteban leaned over, “Guess what the name of the last Del Fuego King was.”

“What?”

“Incendio.”

Victor was visibly struggling to stifle his snickering, “Of fucking course! Why do the Del Fuego’s insist on giving their children such stupid names?”

“Don’t tell the dragon you said that,” Esteban shrugged, “But, it’s more tradition. Back when they were the Kings of Rafuego, they had quite a reputation for being... malicious.”

“That’s grossly unsurprising...”

“Agreed,” he nodded, “And apparently, they were quite proud of having that reputation. Proud enough to make it a tradition to name their children with basic words related to fire and malice.”

“What odd people.”

“On that, we can agree. But, making nicknames official is hardly uncommon. As you well know, many a family name comes from the nickname of the bloodline’s founder.”

“Well yes, but nothing as silly as the Del Fuego’s do with given names.”

“Don’t be so sure. There are a number of silly family names out there,” he pointed at the new character on the stage, “And, there’s a perfect example right there, House Travieso. Their founder, that man right there, his nickname was, ‘Romualdo el Travieso,’ because as a slave, he had quite a reputation for being mischievous.”

“Huh, I guess that’s true.”

It was. And, it was a fitting nickname too, because he wouldn’t one day become Ravarra’s first protector of the east through honest and peaceful means. As was detailed over the course of the next act of the play.

Esteban watched as the events played out. How Romualdo swore allegiance to King Incendio of Rafuego in exchange for providing the weapons necessary for the slave uprising in Selvaro, despite Caliente’s warnings and Milagros’s pleas not to submit their realm to the foreign ruler.

Next, the brutal and bloody Selvaran slave uprising was played out. The De La Selva King and his family, and all other slaveholding families in the realm were wiped out.

In old Selvaro, one was either slave or slaver. The events of this uprising saw to it that all people of eastern descent today, highborn and lowborn alike, even Esteban himself, were descended from the blood of slaves.

After it was over, the newly-named Romualdo Travieso named his collaborators among the fellow former slaves as the new lords and vassals of the eastern regions, as he himself was named Viceroy of Selvaro on behalf of the Del Fuego King.

“It was not your place to bring death to King Jimeno and his vassals!” Milagros criticized her people’s new ruler, “It should have come to them on it’s own terms. Not through violent force.”

“You would have let the oppressors live!?” Romualdo shouted, “The very monsters that subjugated us for generations!? If you were given the choice, you would not have taken revenge for the suffering of your people!?”

“No! God did not choose me to enact vengeance! My role was never to seek revenge on the oppressors! Only to liberate the oppressed.”

“We have liberated the oppressed! Our people are free, because of the path that I chose! You saw it! Our people were only granted their freedom once the oppressor was dead on the ground!”

“Yes. I saw it all. I saw one oppressor unseated... and another seated in his place.”

It was a powerful speech, and one that would have an effect on Romualdo Travieso after he would later submit Selvaro again, this time to King Marcel the Founder at the climax of the Unificación. As protector of the east, Lord Romualdo Travieso would become one of the most gracious leaders in new Ravarra.

Before she exited the stage, Milagros turned back to the Travieso liege.

“I pray for your cold heart, Viceroy. May it learn the value of mercy before your salvation is lost to eternity.”

***(5)***

“A request from the Belatierra Defense Force,” Gilberto handed him the letter, “to begin mass production of pauldrons to replace their armor’s spaulders.”

Pauldrons?

Huh, Belatierra’s military wasn’t taking this coming war lightly.

Esteban yawned and held out his hand, “The Belatierra ledgers?”

Gilberto handed him the books, which Esteban scoured for several minutes.

Hmm, the Defense Force had about... one-thousand-five-hundred members... That would cost...

Well, it would be expensive, but they could definitely afford it.

What the hell, why not?

He signed the letter with his approval, then held the stick of turquoise wax over the candle, and then pressed the melted end down next to his signature. He finished off by pressing the Reyes seal into the wax, and then handed the letter back, “Next?”

Gilberto handed him the next one, “A request from a merchant in Rueno, who wishes to purchase two-hundred acres of land adjacent to the Voyager’s Hold.”

What type of privileged ass...

He sighed, “Rueno’s ledgers?”

They traded Belatierra’s books for Rueno’s, which were much more sizable.

Honestly... Esteban wasn’t out here buying up people’s land! What made merchants like this think they could just settle wherever the fuck they wanted!?

God...

He scoured the books.

Two-hundred acres... adjacent to the Hold... That would cost... Well, it would cost a fuck-ton of gold Founders, that was for sure. And, this merchant was offering... Exactly as much as the land was worth.

Hmm...

And, Prince Dejuan had already signed his approval.

Hmmm...

...Ah, fuck it. Nobody was using that land anyway.

He repeated the process of signing and sealing his approval, then handed the letter back to Gilberto.

The bedroom door opened. Esteban looked over as Victor came out.

“Are you coming to bed soon?”

“Probably not,” Esteban stretched.

The paperwork tonight was more interesting than it was most nights, but it was still very excessive. He would’ve asked Victor to help if he didn’t love him so much.

“Oh,” Victor looked disappointed, which made Esteban’s heart hurt, “Okay...”

Esteban gave him an apologetic look, then turned back to Gilberto, “Next?”

“This one’s fancy,” he looked it over, “It’s foreign writing, I can’t understand a thing. But, from my limited knowledge, I think it’s... Pentozi?”

Oh, for Founder’s sake...

He knew who the letter was from...

He took it from Gilberto and looked it over.

Indeed, sure enough.

Prince Medrayas of Agriuel.

Oh, this should be good...

The Archon of Agriuel started his letter out with a few updates—Another slave, Medrayas? Really? What a whore—and concluded with a request to increase the fruit trade with Rueno in exchange for an increased shipment of lapis lazuli.

Well, Esteban wasn’t interested in anything that was procured through slave labor—which Medrayas knew well, since he too shared a dislike for it—but the economy wasn’t gonna support itself. The Doctrine was definitely gonna appreciate more lapis, not to mention merchants and individual buyers.

He handed the letter back, “Remind me to write a response tomorrow morning. And, a letter to the Prince of Rueno.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Ugh,” Esteban rolled his shoulders, “I need a break. Come back in a few minutes. We’ll finish then.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Gilberto nodded, and got up to leave.

Esteban stood up and stretched, and that’s when he noticed that Victor was still here.

“Who was that letter from?” Victor asked, “You seemed to enjoy that one more than the others. I thought you hated correspondence.”

“Oh, trust me, I hate it more than anything,” he stated, “It was from a friend. The future Prince of Pentoz. He wants to trade fruit for minerals.”

Victor made a face, “That’s how trading works?”

“Essentially, yes.”

“Odd. Do you have enough fruit to trade?”

“Of course I do,” he smiled, “I own two territories filled with numerous plantations. I’m basically the Prince of fruit.”

Victor snorted, “But still, it sounds like you’d need quite a lot of fruit to get enough minerals out of it. They’re going to the Doctrine, yes?”

“Most of them, probably.”

“And, the Doctrine is really all over the place,” he counted out on his fingers, “It’s all over the whole realm, which is huge enough, and it’s also in all of the territories. And, it’s in Armaya...”

“Oh,” he shook his head, “I’m not giving it to Armaya.”

Fuck that.

Those bitches could get their own lapis.

Victor looked confused, “But... you said it’s going to the Doctrine.”

“I did,” he stated, “The Reinos Doctrine. The Armayan Doctrine isn’t affiliated with ours.”

“...It’s not?”

...Wow.

“No,” Esteban chuckled, “It’s not. To Armaya, God is a woman, and preaches female supremacy. Does that sound like something the Doctrine here would approve of?”

“No,” he shook his head, “It doesn’t... How did that come to be?”

“Well,” he explained, “When Ariana Arroya and her followers landed in Armaya, and came across the warring tribes, she learned that they were so bent on defeating each other, because they both thought that they were justified by a higher being. The male-dominant tribe believed their higher being to be a man who intended for the dominance of men, while the female-dominant tribe believed the higher being to be a woman who intended for the dominance of women.”

“That’s... so odd,” he shook his head, “Both of those tribes sound so... backward.”

Esteban chuckled, “That’s how it was down there thousands of years ago. But, Ariana, who was in Armaya in the first place to escape oppression from the men of Cuatro Reinos, saw this as a sign. She then came to believe that God had sent her there on purpose, and had chosen her to champion the true holy message. The message of female superiority.”

“Oh no...”

“Indeed,” he nodded, “She and her followers aided the female tribe, and with their advanced weaponry and tactics, they were able to defeat the male tribe once and for all. And thus, Ariana was viewed as God’s chosen champion, and when she succeeded the female tribe’s queen, she became known as the first Queen of the newly-dubbed Armaya, and she went on to found their new Doctrine.”

Victor held himself, “Were there survivors from the male tribe? What... What did they do to them?”

“Everything,” he gave him a look, “You name it, they did it. It’s all written very graphically in the Armayan holy texts.”

Victor shivered.

Esteban smiled and touched his arm, “If it makes you feel any better, not all of Armaya is like that. When Azucena Riera dissented from Ariana’s prejudiced reign and founded the region of Acueria with the isolated tribe that affirmed gender equality, she too founded her own church. The Acueri Doctrine is very similar in belief to the Reinos Doctrine, minus their belief in God being a woman, and the interpretations of the Armayan continent in the holy texts.”

Victor looked at him, “Have you ever been to Armaya?”

“I have.”

“What was it like? How did they treat you.”

He shrugged, “They treated me with the necessary respect awarded to visiting royalty, but they were less respectful to me than they were to my mother if that’s what you’re asking, yes. But at the time, I just thought it was because they were rude. Like you, I hadn’t known that it was because their religion was different from mine.”

“When did you find out the truth?”

“Near the end of my stay there,” he smiled, “In fact... it was because I’d found out the truth which led to the reason why we had to leave.”

“Really? What happened?”

“Oh, you know,” he shrugged, still smiling, “I did what I apparently do best.”

Now, Victor looked really confused, “...What?”

Esteban giggled, “That’s a story for another time. And, one that I’m sure you’ll enjoy...”

Victor looked at all of the letters on Esteban’s desk, “Where do the Doctrines in Armaya get their mineral supply?”

“They mine it themselves,” he stated, “And, whatever they can’t mine, they trade for with other realms.”

“What do they trade in?”

“Depends on who they’re trading with,” he explained, “With us and our mining territories, Anaxor and Unalia, they trade in exotic spices. With everyone else, they trade in narcotics.”

“Ugh!”

“Agreed,” Esteban nodded. It was a good thing those were illegal here, “They also trade a bit in exotic wood.”

Victor looked thoughtful for a second, “What does everybody else trade in?”

“Well,” Esteban explained, “As you know, Ravarra’s main export is obsidian, as well as wood, and some other minerals and nutrients. As far as our territories go, Unalia trades in minerals, Rueno, Percoza, and Belatierra trade in nutrients, and Anaxor trades in both. And for the other two realms, Pentoz trades in minerals and plants, and Quirnon trades in nutrients and agricultural resources.”

Victor scratched his head, “This trading thing sounds really complicated.”

“It can be. But, as long as you know what comes from where and goes to whom, it’s manageable,” he looked over as Gilberto returned, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to finish,” he gave Victor a kiss, “I’ll try to come to bed soon. Promise.”

Victor smiled and turned to go back to the bedroom, “Have fun with your papers.”

He sat back down at his desk with Gilberto, “Trust me, I won’t.”

Victor giggled, and Esteban smiled as he left, before turning back to his work.

Chapter Text

“The Voyeur…”

You stand in the middle of a large, dark room somewhere in the Founder’s Palace, illuminated only by candles on the walls to your left and right, and a crackling fire directly ahead of you. Seated next to the fireplace is the figure of a stiff, yet relaxed individual adorned in brilliant gray robes with the beaded chain that ended in the three-pronged star of a trifariam dipping down the torso. In the firelight, the wrinkled features of a familiar elderly woman are visible only from the nose down, with her eyes and the rest of her head hidden underneath a gray hood.

“Come, my friend,” the thick lips speak as a wrinkled hand indicates to the spot across from her, “We have both waited a long time for this moment, and my story is not a short one. Best make yourself comfortable.”

You do as she says, crossing the room to take your place across from her next to the fire.

As soon as you settle in, the golden pair of hands reach up to the brilliant hood, and push it back to reveal the unmistakable face of Arch Sorceress Andrea, the Overseer of the Holy Order of Gray Magic. Despite the lack of a smile on her face, there is a brightness in her already-bright gray sorceress’s eyes as she addresses you.

“Please do forgive the deception. I had a previous appointment before you which was... let us just say more chore than pleasantry.”

The old Arch Sorceress turns, looking into the fire as the light flickers across her golden face.

“Now,” she releases a calm sigh, “I know why you have come. Not to begin some great quest or fulfill some higher purpose, no... You, my curious friend, are here for a story,” she shrugs her shoulders lightly, “Perhaps your interest was only slightly piqued, or perhaps you are genuinely very curious as to what I have to say. Either way, it matters not. You are here for stories, so stories you shall have...”

Then, she looks up and over towards the closed door of the room.

“...But, I sense that you were not the only one sent to hear my stories. It appears we are going to have some guests...”

And with that, the door suddenly swings open.

Standing in the doorway are two familiar individuals of eastern descent, one a girl in late adolescence, and the other a woman in her early twenties. The girl is darkish-skinned with curly hair, and wears an exotic light green attire, while the woman is darker-skinned with her hair in thick braids, wearing pretty armor with purple trim. Both of them appear to be very confused.

“Maite Ramos. Gertrudes,” the Arch Sorceress greets them both, “It is a pleasure to see you again, young madams.”

“And, you,” Maite nods as she enters the room, “Pardon the intrusion, I am meant to be meeting with Lord Evangelio.”

“And, milady Figueroa has business with Lord Rosales,” Gertrudes follows her in, “The witch here and I bumped into each other in the hall, and, uh, now we’re kinda lost.”

“On the contrary,” the Arch Sorceress disagrees quietly, “you are exactly where you are meant to be.”

That only seems to make them more confused.

“Come. Sit,” she indicates for them to take seats next to you, “Your prior engagements can wait a moment. I was just about to regale my companion here with stories.”

“Ooh, Lord Fatty can wait!” Gertrudes’s face lights up as she all but bounds into the room, “Everyone’s always goin’ on and on about how you got the best stories!”

“I suppose that must come with being the oldest woman in the Kingdom,” Maite chuckles as she follows behind.

“Indeed, it does,” the Arch Sorceress agrees.

Gertrudes plops down next to you on your right while Maite calmly seats herself to your left. They both give you smiles, Maite giving you a polite nod, and Gertrudes giving you a small salute.

“Now,” the Arch Sorceress asks, “what shall we talk about?”

“You’re the hostess,” Gertrudes shrugs.

The Arch Sorceress nods, “In that case... how about the stories of some of the great heroes, saints, and martyrs in our realm’s past? Of those who have shaped our Kingdom over the eons. Stories from the fringes, from those who have turned this realm into what it is today.”

“Oh, yes,” Maite smiles, “I would love to hear some of those. There are so many heroes and martyrs in our history that have such inspiring tales.”

“Yeah,” Gertrudes agrees, “I wouldn’t mind hearing some histories. Especially fringe histories. Those are always the best, if ya ask me.”

“Very well. Then, I believe I shall start with... a prologue of sorts,” she nods to herself, “Yes. Around the very beginning of the Ascension Era. One that I am sure you will appreciate. Now,” she indicates to each of you, “if you would join hands, please?”

“Ooh,” Maite beams, “The firsthand treatment? Yes, please!”

Maite and Gertrudes each take one of your hands, and then the Arch Sorceress nods again.

“Now, before we begin, I must warn you. No matter how entertained you are by the following stories, you should not grow attached to the characters. These are but moments in their lives. No matter how happy a story may seem, their later lives may not have resulted in the happy endings that you might assume.”

“Yeah, yeah, we get the idea,” Gertrudes waves, “Happy story doesn’t mean happy ending, this ain’t a fairytale.”

“Indeed, it is not. Now, you are ready.”

Maite and Gertrudes both settle in excitedly. Then, the Arch Sorceress reaches up, and points a finger towards your face.

“Now, everyone relax and pay close attention...”

With that, the finger touches your forehead, and your minds are transported to that of another, long in the past…

***(-2 CR)***

She stared down at the scars on her wrists. The unmistakable symbol of her former status. The marks, a physical manifestation of the horrors she had lived through, and would never forget.

No.

That was not her.

Not anymore.

Never again.

She pulled up the cuffs of her brown gloves to hide the markings of her past. And, hide them they did. In the dark of this cloudy night, one could easily mistake the thin garments for her bare hands, as was her intention. It was one of the only things that kept her safe. Kept her from being recognized, from being hunted and captured, and being dragged back to the jungles of the east. Back to the life that she had fought tooth and nail to escape. She willed herself to stay calm, touching the beads that hung around her neck, taking solace in the fact that He was watching over her.

The clouds withdrew, and the moonlight shone brightly, illuminating the massive chamber that she found herself in.

She glanced around the room, taking in it’s size and it’s elegance. The fluffed sheets of the bed and the tapestries that adorned the walls. This was a room that emanated power and merit. It was the room belonging to the one whom she had traveled all this way to meet. The one whose fate, whose destiny was linked to hers, and vice versa.

And as if fate itself had willed it, the door to the bedchamber opened.

Orange candlelight poured in as the soft clicking of slippers on the floorboards echoed throughout the room, and slipping through the heavy door came her.

The girl.

And, what a beautiful girl she was, even by the standards of someone of her class. Her light hair flowed down the sides of her pale face, reflecting the light from the candle she held in one of her gentle hands. On her small body, she wore a red dress as flowing as her hair and as elegant as her chamber, and in her other hand, she held the familiar beads of a trifariam.

The girl closed her door, and then turned around, and came face to face with her.

She gasped at the sight of this unexpected guest, jumping, causing the beads to clink loudly. The candle slipped from her grip, and her guest watched as the little flame tumbled towards the ground. At the very last moment, the guest reached out her hand, and the falling ceased.

The candle levitated just above the wooden floor, and then slowly began to float up and over to the extended gloved hand.

She wrapped her fingers around the melting wax, and then made her way across the room towards the perplexed girl. Once she reached her, she held the object out, offering it back.

With visible reluctance, the girl retrieved the little light, and once both hands were free, her guest moved them to the hem of her own filthy gown, and proceeded to fall into a practiced curtsy.

“Your Highness.”

Princess Caliente Del Fuego looked her up and down, then spotted the three-pronged star that hung from her torso, matching those in her own hand, and visibly relaxed just a bit, “A devout Doctrinal. And, a magic user at that. Who are you? What Order do you belong to?”

“I belong to no Order, Highness,” she told her, “I am simply a messenger.”

She stood up again, pushing the thick coils out of her face, and folded her hands in front of her.

“My name is Milagros.”

The Princess nodded, giving her another once over, “A messenger, you say. Where did you come from? You require an audience with my father?”

“The Kingdom of Selvaro is from whence I hail,” Milagros stated, as if the tone of her skin, the texture of her hair, and the accent in her voice weren’t evidence enough of this fact, “And no, Highness, my message is not for your royal father. It is for you, and you alone.”

The Princess adopted a look of confusion at that, but she nodded again, “Selvaro. You were sent by King Jimeno, then?”

“No, Your Highness.”

“…Then, by whom?”

“God.”

A moment of silence passed between them.

The Princess looked down between their matching beads, and then back up at her with an understandably-skeptical look, “I see… And, what is it that God desires of me?”

“To depose King Jimeno.”

The Princess stared at her, and Milagros allowed her to, giving her time to process the extent of what she needed from her.

“God wants me,” she asked slowly, “the mere daughter of the King of Rafuego… to depose a neighboring monarch?”

“Indeed, Highness.”

“…For what purpose?”

“Liberty.”

In one fluid motion, Milagros reached out her hands, and the gloves flew from her body, revealing the unmistakable scars from the tight shackles that she had adorned since she had been an infant. The markings of a slave.

The markings of a former slave.

The markings of a former slave who had been chosen.

The markings of a former slave who had been chosen for a very important quest.

Princess Caliente Del Fuego stared down at the marks between hand and arm, and as she did, Milagros, this free woman, reached up and pulled her own beads over the thick hair on her head, and then reached out with those scarred arms, and clasped the Princess’s soft hands in her own, letting their matching trifariams clink together.

“…My people need your help.”

***

Your consciousness returns to you, and you find yourself again in the dark room with Maite and Gertrudes at either side of you, face to face with Arch Sorceress Andrea.

“Welcome back,” the old woman greets you all, “I hope that you enjoyed your trip.”

“Whoo! A trip is right. That was just like it was in the play,” Gertrudes shakes her head, then points at her, “But, I feel like there’s a reason you chose that story specifically to show us!”

“Shut up, Gertrudes,” Maite tells her with an amiable smile, “I, for one, appreciated seeing that story. Santa Milagros is such an important figure in easterner history, we might’ve still been slaves even today if not for her. She’s definitely one of my favorites. Even if she did end up becoming a prissy wizardess.”

“Prissy Grand Wizardess,” Gertrudes adds on.

“Yes,” the Arch Sorceress agrees, “Bringing an end to the institution of slavery throughout the continent, and then only later simultaneously becoming the first woman and the first person of Selvaran descent to rise through the ranks and become an Overseer of one of the Orders. She paved the way for many of us.”

“Not just her,” Gertrudes points out, “Give credit where it’s due to old Caliente. Abolition never would’ve happened without her.”

“Nor absolute primogeniture,” Maite adds, “thanks to her becoming the Lady Del Fuego, the first woman to inherit leadership of a noble House by right of age rather than gender. In fact, women would still be little more than wives and mothers if not for the four Heroines.”

“Yes. The Sainted Heroines. And, that is the perfect transition into our next story,” the Arch Sorceress states, pointing at each of you again, “Now, we will glimpse into the Kingdom that we know today, shortly after the Unificación. This one should be rather familiar, as neither I, nor any woman in a position of power would be where we are if not for this famous occurrence.”

“Ooh,” Maite sits up, “I know where this is going!”

“As well you should. Now, relax and pay attention…”

She reaches out and touches your forehead again, and you are then transported to another mind from the past…

***(0 CR)***

Santana limped through the Founder’s Palace, clutching her trifariam tightly in her fist, while her handmaidens and magic users and all manner of other servants fretted all around her, telling her that she needed to stop, that she needed to rest, that she needed to heal.

She needed none of those things.

What she needed was her husband.

Her vile, wretched… bastard of a husband.

And, she needed to give that bastard a piece of her mind.

Right fucking now.

Once she reached the doors of the throne room, she shooed away her fussing followers with a curt hiss. Her rage took control of her character and omitted the possibility of simply opening the door, kicking it through instead with a sharp crack.

“Marcel!”

The sunlight filtered through the high windows shined on Santana as she stormed into the room, and the scattered aristocrats jumped and gaped at the sight of her. She paid those idiots no mind, setting her sights on the tall, opulent throne at the elevated back of the room.

“Your Grace!”

Before she could go any further, a figure rushed up to her, and she was quickly assailed by more frets and fusses from her closest friend in this newly-united realm.

She sighed, “Itzel.”

“Your Grace, what are you doing out of bed!?” Itzel Del Mar clasped her hand, “And, what happened to your bandages!?”

“I am fine.”

“You have left a literal trail of blood in your wake!”

Santana couldn’t help but give her a small smile, “I thought you liked that sort of thing in a person.”

The former Princess gave her a look, her eyes—the most gorgeous eyes on the entire continent—radiating with magical purity, “On the field of battle, mayhaps. Though, it is hardly a look that one should wear in their own home.”

“Is this my home? It hardly feels as such anymore,” she glared past her and towards the throne, “For obvious reason… I need to talk to him.”

“You need to rest!” Itzel argued, stepping out of her way, but remaining close, “I understand that you are emotional, but now is not the time! You need to heal, to return to full strength! If not for your sake, then for hers!”

Santana turned to her, assessing the worry, the fear, the pleading on the face of her closest friend.

“…It is for her sake that I must do this.”

She turned back just in time to spot their two other close friends coming to join them with equal expressions of worry.

“Your Grace.”

“Caliente,” she nodded, “Milagros. Don’t bother attempting to stop me, Itzel has already tried.”

“Your Grace,” Caliente Del Fuego pleaded, “At least let Milagros tend to your bandages. You could become seriously injured.”

“I am already seriously injured.”

Santana lifted up her trembling fist, holding her beads out as she addressed her friends.

“What you can do is stand at my side,” she told them, “For what I am about to do, it would be beneficial to present a united front.”

Wizardess Milagros reached out, her new white robes—the symbol of a member of the Order of Light—seeming to glimmer as she moved, and wrapped her hand around the trifariam with a nod, “We stand with you through thick and thin, Your Grace.”

The two former Princesses shared a worried glance, but then they too reached up, following suit by clasping their own hands around the beads, and each giving Santana an affirmative nod.

“Good,” she handed the trifariam off to the Wizardess, and then turned back, “Now, come,” she continued limping towards the throne, calling up as she did, “Good day to you, my lords!”

“Your Grace!” Lord Tomas De La Rosa, one of the former generals, gaped at her from his place at their monarch’s table, “You are not supposed to be walking about in your condition, your vital fluids are leaking—!”

“Shut it, Tomas,” she called back as she crossed the room, her friends never leaving her side.

Once she reached the steps, she gathered up her stained skirts, and began to ascend them one at a time, grunting through the pain with each one. When she finally reached the top, she fixed a glare at the man directly across from her. The ruler of their realm, who had singlehandedly unified this continent under one banner.

Except, he hadn’t done so singlehandedly. Santana had stood by him, supported him, even fought for him throughout the conflict. She had even helped him kill her former King. And, that was no longer going to be overlooked. It was unfortunate that her father, the Lord Victoriano Mendoza, was not here at present. He was going to miss his daughter taking history by the reins. She came forward, and leaned down heavily on the table in front of him.

“...What the fuck is wrong with you!?”

“My Queen,” King Marcel the Founder greeted her calmly, “You should be in bed. The color is drained from your face, and you are staining the carpets with your fluids.”

“And, you are staining this realm with your arrogance!” Santana pushed herself up, “Would someone care to inform me as to what the occasion is for this assembly?”

All of them were silent for a long moment.

“…We are,” Lord Incendio Del Fuego, Caliente’s father and one of the continent’s former Kings, croaked, “discussing the succession, Your Grace.”

“I see,” Santana folded her hands, “And pray tell, why is this a matter for discussion?”

“We are,” Lord Ariel De La Luz, another former general, admitted, “attempting to determine how best for the King to attain an heir, Your Grace.”

“Why? The King already has an heir. Or rather,” Santana’s eyes never left her husband’s, “an heiress.”

King Marcel sat back in his ostentatious throne, giving her a look of disinterest.

“I need a male heir, Santana.”

“Whatever for?” Santana crossed her arms, “Are God’s daughters so different from God’s sons? Can a woman not rally her people? Can a woman not charge into battle? Can a woman not kill her opponent? Oh but wait… I have done every single one of those things. And, if none of you could tell,” she bounced her breasts just a bit, “I am a woman.”

“Your Grace.”

Santana turned to address the man who spoke now. That was Lord Esteban Del Mar, King Marcel’s childhood friend, and the continent’s only other surviving former King. And, Itzel’s father.

“I am sure that I can speak for everyone when I say that we do not take your accomplishments for granted,” the former King of Delmara told her, “But, you must understand, unfortunate though it may be, there are traditions in place. And, considering the,” he glanced at her bloody gown only briefly, “unfortunate consequences of the Princess’s birth—.”

“Yes, the consequences,” she interrupted, “from sharing a bed with our King. Though, I needn’t remind you of such things, my lord, as you would know more than I.”

Itzel coughed behind her.

Lord De La Luz exclaimed, “Your Grace—.”

“Shut it, Ariel. If I cared for your opinion, I would ask.”

She returned her attention to the fathers of her friends.

“Lord Del Mar, Lord Del Fuego, I am disappointed that you do not side with me on this matter, as it affects your daughters as well. Lord Del Fuego,” she turned to him, “Caliente is not only your eldest child, but your most competent as well. Much more so than her brother. You know this, otherwise you would not have entrusted the matter of King Jimeno De La Selva’s deposition to her. And, to Wizardess Milagros, who led her people to freedom right there on the frontlines,” she glanced over her shoulder at them briefly before turning back, “Caliente was once a Princess of Rafuego, the fiercest of the Four Kingdoms. More than anyone, she deserves to be a lady in her own right.”

The former King of Rafuego croaked again, “Competent, she is. But, Your Grace,” he told her, “a woman has never ruled in the north. I understand that when the south was still the Kingdom of Navera, it may have been more tolerable to such things, but we northerners are a traditional people.”

“But, Navera is no more,” she reminded him, “Nor Rafuego, nor Delmara, nor Selvaro. All of Cuatro Reinos is no more. I should know, I struck the killing blow to King Manolo De La Sierra myself.”

“I killed—.”

“Shut up, Marcel, we all know that’s a lie. My lord,” she continued, “none of the Kingdoms are here anymore, not yours, not mine, and not the others. This is a new realm that should strive to lead by new ideas. We should evolve past the Rafueguese way,” she pointed, “But, we should evolve past the Naverese way as well. A woman should not need a man to rule alongside her. She should be able to rule on her own.”

In Navera, as well as Delmara, there had been a system developed in the case of a King’s only successor being female. A woman was allowed to rule as Queen Suo Jure and even to pass on her family name to her children, but only on the condition that she had a husband to rule alongside her as King Jure Uxoris. If she had no husband to take half the throne, she had no throne at all.

That was a system that needed to be left in the past as well.

“That is,” the old lord stared, “a very radical idea, Your Grace...”

“As I said, the Four Kingdoms are gone. We are one Kingdom now. One Kingdom that deserves to have strong rulers, regardless of whatever legwear they adorn.”

Lord Del Fuego didn’t respond, but turned to where his daughter stood, a look of curiosity clear in his old eyes.

Santana then turned to the other former King, “And, Lord Del Mar, this greatly affects your family as well, as you have no sons of your own.”

“I have several nephews who carry my family name, Your Grace.”

“It would not be hard for a woman to carry a name. All one needs is ink and paper,” she raised her eyebrows at him, “This is surely not unfamiliar to you, my lord. Your Kingdom and mine were the ones who allowed heiresses to do so when they had no brothers. And, I have heard you yourself say time and again that she is one of the greatest of your line. A skilled diplomat and strategist, a sense of honor not seen in even the most noble of knights, and she can more than hold her own with a spear…”

She looked over her shoulder, and smiled at Itzel, the former Princess of Delmara, one of the greatest women… the greatest people that God had ever created.

“She is the greatest of your line. In every fashion,” she turned back, “So, why should she not be the one to carry your legacy?”

The former monarch appeared genuinely contemplative of her words, waiting several moments before responding, “I—.”

“Because, Lord Del Mar’s legacy must be carried on by a man.”

Santana turned back to her husband, giving him a dull look, “Why are you so scared of having a skirt seated on that throne after you, Marcel?”

“Tradition, Santana.”

“Tradition is malleable.”

She uncrossed her arms, and leaned back down on the table.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with Ariana… would it?”

Queen Ariana now, apparently. Queen Ariana Arroya the Conqueror. Just before Santana’s dearest husband had started unifying this continent, Ariana and her followers had set out to sea to escape the oppression that they’d faced here in the old Kingdoms. They had then discovered a new continent just directly south of this one, and then they had founded their own realm.

‘Armaya,’ they had named it. They were calling it a Queendom. And, they had even had the audacity to embrace heresy, to create a whole new church for that Queendom, one that worshipped a female God.

And, this She-God of theirs apparently enjoyed irony, if the reports of what Ariana’s people were doing to the male natives were any indication…

“I care not for Ariana. Let her play her little game on her new southern continent,” he waved dismissively, “But, as Lord Del Fuego said, we on this continent are a traditional people, and tradition demands a man at it’s head.”

Santana sniffed at that, “Then, pray tell, my darling… what will happen to Elena in this new Kingdom... this, ‘Ravarra,’ of yours if you succeed in procuring your precious male heir?”

“If and when I procure the male heir that, ‘this Ravarra of mine,’ requires,” he gestured around the table, “I imagine she will marry the heir to one of these lords here, and become a dutiful wife and mother.”

Santana gave him a humorless smile, “The type of woman that you wish I had been.”

He turned away from her, “If you are quite done with this… display, wife, we have important matters to attend to. If you will excuse us…”

He started to blather with the other lords, leaving Santana as if she were not even there.

She pushed off the table, seething down at him as he ignored her.

He wasn’t listening to her.

And, he wasn’t going to listen to her…

…Not unless she made him listen to her.

She turned around, looking at each of her friends, and then locking eyes with Itzel.

A wordless understanding passed between them, one in which Itzel’s beautiful eyes of magic begged her to reconsider, but gave up when she realized it was futile. Santana could see that she understood. This was what she had to do. For her, for Elena… for all of them.

Santana turned back, and started to limp around the table. She gradually started regaining every lord’s attention, and when she reached the King, between his throne and the knight on guard, he finally paid her mind.

Santana was hurting. She was bloody, she was sore, and she was now barely conscious enough to stand. And, all she could see was red, focused on the man in front of her whom she called husband…

…She reached back, and snatched the sword out of the guard’s sheath.

Every lord jumped from his seat, and clamored to get away.

Marcel only stared as his wife leveled the blade at his throat.

“I challenge you to single combat,” she announced, making sure that she was heard from across the room, “Once I have you at the tip of this blade, your new realm shall be one of equal opportunity, and of absolute possibility.”

She leaned down, the red in her eyes clouding everything from her vision.

Everything, except for him.

“And, on the day that you pass from this world to the next… your Kingdom shall be ruled by a Queen.”

***

“Queen Santana,” Arch Sorceress Andrea muses as you all return, “Bloody and bruised in a state that would lead most other women to their deaths. But, not her.”

“Yeah,” Gertrudes blinks, “Even on the verge of death, she still beat her husband’s sexist ass in that duel. And, singlehandedly gave women the right to… well, everything by doin’ it,” she smiles, “She’s definitely one of the greatest.”

“People like to forget that the Founder was such a misogynist before he got his ass handed to him by his own wife,” Maite chuckles, “And, when she wasn’t even at a fraction of her full health too. She definitely earned the title of, ‘Sainted Heroine.’”

“All four of ‘em did,” Gertrudes states, “Santana, Milagros, Caliente—and can’t forget Santa Itzel either. And, not just cuz of them eyes. She became, ‘Dame Itzel,’ long before becoming, ‘Lady Del Mar.’ The first woman to ever be knighted.”

“And, the one who was chosen to train Queen Elena the Warrior in the art of knighthood,” Maite nods, “All four of them were indeed true heroines.”

“Yeah,” then Gertrudes makes a face, “But, I’m not really sure that counts as a fringe story.”

“True,” Maite agrees, “That was a rather famous event. And, so was Milagros meeting with Caliente.”

The Arch Sorceress seems to contemplate that for a moment. Then, she nods and reaches up a hand once again.

“Fair enough. Then perhaps for this next story, we will jump ahead, to one that may be more of what you were expecting… And, I believe it is one that you may enjoy. This one is much more… intimate than the others. Now, pay attention…”

Maite and Gertrudes both appear intrigued by her words, holding onto your hands as the Arch Sorceress reaches forward and touches your forehead once more…

***(127 CR)***

Amelia covered her brother’s clasped hands with her own, helping him through his prayers as he shivered, the beads of the trifariam rattling violently between them. The air in this chamber had grown stale, tainted by the odor of the cold sweat that she and Antonio shared.

They had been locked in this room for hours. It must have grown dark out by now, but it was impossible to tell in this gilded prison they shared. They had nowhere to go, nothing to do but beg God for mercy until something happened. Something…

The sharp creak of the heavy door had both of them jumping to their feet, and Amelia pulled Antonio into her. She could feel his smaller form shaking like a ship caught in a storm as he held onto her tightly, clearly too afraid beyond measure to let her go.

The door swung open, and the massive form of the head of the Royal Guard entered the room. Wardeness Luisiana, the first ever female protector of Ravarra’s royalty, was a dark-skinned woman with a face that was equally beautiful and terrifying, who stood a head taller than Amelia and three times as thick, an enormous bulwark of a person who was so intimidating that even the braids in her hair looked threatening. But, it wasn’t her that they needed to worry about. Without a word, the Wardeness stepped to the side, and from behind her entered another all too familiar figure.

Queen Paulina stood tall in her own right, her skin shimmering and bronze to a darker shade than Amelia’s between a flowing turquoise dress, black hair up and styled in appropriate crown braids. She had only been Queen for a couple years now, but due to the exceptionally-long reign of the magic-using King Mauricio the Tranquil, his daughter and successor was already middle-aged. But, that age didn’t show whatsoever. Her face was gorgeous enough to belong in legends, and atop her head sat the glistening golden tiara of the ruler of their realm, the crown that had been forged for her grandmother and emblazoned on their banners, the gems encrusted within it shining in the torchlight.

Amelia pushed Antonio back, and gripped her skirts to dip into a deep curtsy while he gave a shivering bow beside her, and as soon as they were done, her little brother rushed back into her embrace. The Queen folded her hands regally, and looked them both over with an emotionless stare.

“Amelia and Antonio Macarena,” she addressed them in the clear speech of a monarch, “It is a long way from your family’s lands.”

“Your Grace,” Amelia told her, still holding her brother tightly, “nothing in the world can express how deeply and truly regretful we are. We sincerely, sincerely apologize. We never meant any disrespect towards you.”

At that, Queen Paulina’s full lips stretched into a humorless smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Perhaps you both should have thought of that before fucking my husband.”

Antonio squeaked, gripping his sister tighter, and Amelia’s heart threatened to beat out of her chest at the sound of such vulgarity from her reigning monarch.

The Queen opened her mouth in a contemplative manner, that smile never leaving her face, “Diego, Diego Travieso…” she turned to Wardeness Luisiana, “My consort certainly gets around, does he not?”

“He does, Your Grace,” the Wardeness agreed, giving her that same smile.

“I should say. But, I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. My mother, smart as she was, warned me as such long ago.”

“Indeed. May God grant rest to the soul of Queen Roana.” Wardeness Luisiana and Queen Paulina moved their hands over themselves in the sign of the star, and Amelia and Antonio separated just long enough to repeat the gesture of blessing in honor of the late Queen Consort, and finished off in the western fashion by kissing the trifariam they made with their fingers before embracing one another again.

The Queen repeated the kiss as well, “I should have listened to her from the beginning. When a Del Mar warns you that someone is too salacious, you should always listen. She was certainly spot on,” she turned back to the siblings, “Considering that you both had to share my husband not only with each other, but so many others as well. Women, men, girls, boys…” she made a disgusted face, “and I sincerely hope that that caged goblin in the corner was just an exotic pet that I never knew about.”

“Your Grace,” Amelia begged, “what we did with the King Consort was beyond wrong and inexcusable, I accept that, and I will accept whatever judgment you deem necessary,” she held Antonio close, “But please, for the love of all things holy, spare my brother. He is only a child.”

“I’m afraid that is out of my hands. You and your brother, as well as so many others among my husband’s favorites, are second siblings and third siblings and the like,” she waved a hand, “I do not care much for the, ‘sanctity of virginity,’ and all that, and I truly don’t believe that God does either,” she gave them a sad look, “But, the harsh reality is that most nobles in the Kingdom do, and once word gets out that you have lost your virtues in such a way… let’s just say that your reputations—and that of your House—may become broken beyond repair.”

Antonio sobbed, burying his face in his sister’s gown, and Amelia held him through his tears.

“However,” the Queen suddenly announced, “fortunately for you, I have no intention of punishing children for falling to the charms of a man who broke his vows,” she gave them a smile that this time seemed more genuine, “I shall be seeing to it that what is left of your reputation may be salvaged.”

The siblings stared at her, looking briefly at each other before back at their monarch.

“…Thank you, Your Grace,” Amelia bowed her head, “You have our sincerest gratitude for your generosity. We do not deserve such mercy from you.”

“You’re damn right you don’t,” she stated curtly, “But, God teaches mercy, and so I shall be merciful,” she looked directly at Antonio, and gave him another smile, “You, little lordling. You have had your quinceañero, yes?”

“Three months ago, Your Grace,” he confirmed in his shy voice.

“Good. Then, you are of age to marry.”

The siblings stared at her again.

“My master of war recently passed,” the Queen continued, “And as such, his heiress has now taken his place on the Court. Paz De La Luz is only a couple years your senior, and she needs a husband to father her heirs,” she nodded, “You will fill that role for her. Congratulations on your engagement, Antonio Macarena.”

Antonio jumped, and looked up at his sister with panicked eyes. Amelia could only give him a sympathetic look, caressing his cheek with a resolved nod. She could see more tears at the edges of his eyes, but he turned back to the Queen, and gave her a nod, “I… thank you, Your Grace.”

Queen Paulina nodded back, “She should be arriving here at the Palace as we speak. Wardeness Luisiana will take you to meet her.”

The Wardeness gave a nod of her own, and beckoned him over. Amelia pushed him along, giving him a light kiss on the cheek, and then pushing the trifariam into his hand with an encouraging smile. He only stared back at her as he was pulled from the room.

Paz De La Luz… It was an excellent match. As mistress of war and a member of the Monarch’s Court, Lady Paz was one of the most powerful people in the realm, second only to the Queen herself. Marrying into her bloodline would bring great honor to their family. Not to mention, great protection in case the ever-growing restlessness between pious Ravarra and heretical Armaya amounted to conflict.

But, the chances of it being a happy marriage—at least on Antonio’s end—were slim to none. As one of the most eligible bachelors in the Bahía Calma, Amelia’s brother had been courted by many girls throughout his young life, but none had ever been able to charm him. Not until King Diego came along.

“And, you, young damsel,” Queen Paulina spoke once the door was shut behind them, pulling Amelia from her thoughts, “have also been lucky enough to be chosen for a Court member. The newly-elevated master of coin is seeking to establish his new bloodline among the nobility, and a noble wife to mother his heirs is a good step towards that,” she smiled, “Congratulations on your engagement, Amelia Macarena. Laurencio Rosales is an honorable man.”

Laurencio Rosales…?

Lord Laurencio had only been elevated because he was the only living relative of the Kingdom’s last financial head, the last living member of the De La Rosa bloodline. He hadn’t even been born legitimately, he had been born a natural child. A bastard. He did not even claim the De La Rosa name anymore, he had chosen to found a new House, and to call it Rosales.

…But, he had been legitimized and ennobled by the Queen herself. And, he was indeed an honorable man by reputation. And though he had chosen a new name for his family, he was still the master of coin, and as such was one of the richest people in Ravarra.

…Amelia had to admit he was indeed a very good match.

She gave her Queen a curtsy, “Thank you, Your Grace.”

The Queen nodded slowly, glancing at Amelia up and down.

“Tell me… what drew you to my husband, mistress Macarena?”

Amelia thought about that, “I suppose he had… a manner of speaking, Your Grace.”

“Yes,” she chuckled, “That, he does.”

The Queen seemed to contemplate something. She started to walk closer to Amelia.

“And… what is it that drew him to you, mistress Macarena?”

“To me, Your Grace?”

“Yes.”

Amelia felt her cheeks burning as she looked to the ground, “Well… I imagine his attraction to me was mostly… physical, Your Grace.”

“I see…”

The Queen stopped directly in front of her. Amelia didn’t dare look up, not until her monarch reached up with an elegant hand to lift her chin to eye level.

“Yes… I can see now that his attractions were justified. You are quite a marvel, Amelia Macarena.”

Her face burned hotter, “I-I thank you, Your Grace.”

“And, he no doubt found your physicality appealing to the touch.”

“Y-Yes…”

The Queen ran her fingers along Amelia’s chin, eyeing every part of her face from her eyes to her nose to her lips.

“…I wonder,” she finally stated, “if I should test such touch for myself.”

Amelia paused.

“…Y-Your Grace?”

“I am curious,” she continued, “about sampling my husband’s tastes. As I understand it, you were a favorite among his favorites, Amelia Macarena. I wish to understand what drew him to you… firsthand.”

The Queen leaned forward, eyes going half-lidded, her beautiful face coming closer and closer to Amelia’s, and Amelia could only watch as the regal lips approached hers.

This was like something out of a dream, out of only the wildest fantasies. Her, the daughter of a minor House, here at this moment with the Queen of Ravarra breathing on her lips…

Then at the very last moment, those lips paused, the eyes ahead of Amelia lifting in a questioning manner.

“Only if this course of action is acceptable to you, of course,” one elegant eyebrow raised as her head tilted, “Do you accept…?”

Almost instinctively, Amelia found herself nodding in full affirmation, “…I accept, Your Grace.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes!”

Right now, there was nothing in the world that Amelia wanted more than Queen Paulina.

The Queen’s regal lips stretched into a wide smile, “Then, say so. Say to me…” her fingers caressed her face once more, “‘I want you to fuck me, Your Grace.’”

“I want you to fuck me, Your Grace!”

Amelia gasped as Queen Paulina’s lips surged forward, connecting with her own. The kiss was soft and sweet, yet hungry and curious, and Amelia found herself returning it with full vigor.

The Queen’s other hand touched her, on her stomach just below her breast, pushing her backwards. Amelia complied, backing up further and further until her legs reached the soft sheets of a bed, and she fell to sit.

“Before we do this, Amelia Macarena,” the Queen whispered, caresses never ceasing, “I need to ask of you one more favor…”

“Anything, Your Grace!”

Amelia gasped as the hand on her body slipped down to heft up her gown, slipping up her leg, and then her thigh, and then the hand on her face lifted a finger to stroke along the edge of her bottom lip.

“…I want you to wail.”

Wail, she did. All through the night, she wailed, and then in the morning, again, and then the next night, again, loud enough to be heard throughout the Founder’s Palace.

***

“And just like that,” Arch Sorceress Andrea states as you return, “Amelia went from being the favorite of the King Consort to the favorite of the Queen Regnant. I would say it was an advancement of sorts, wouldn’t you agree?”

Maite and Gertrudes are both staring at the Arch Sorceress with wide eyes.

“…I, um,” Maite speaks up, “had heard that Queen Paulina the Vengeful was a lot more merciful to King Diego’s favorites than she was to the man himself, but… I hadn’t realized that her relationship with Lady Amelia Rosales had been so… intimate.”

“But, it’s damn good to know!” Gertrudes giggles giddily, “I’m guessing that’s the reason why the adultery law is usually a lot more lenient towards the unmarried partner than it is to the cheater?”

“It certainly appears so, doesn’t it?” Arch Sorceress Andrea nods, “And indeed, when Ravarra’s fourth reigning monarch declared adultery to be one of the most heinous crimes committable, it was only her husband who was punished, as he was the one who broke his holy vows. The closest punishment that his favorites endured was the possibility of an unhappy arranged marriage, which would have likely happened to them regardless.”

“I’d say that’s for the best,” Gertrudes states, “A lot of times, when someone starts having relations with a married person, it’s cuz they didn’t know that that person was married in the first place. And then, there’s also the dichotomy between people of different rank or class. The littler person might feel it’s their duty to please the bigger person if approached. I bet that’s what happened with some of King Diego’s favorites, and I’d say that wasn’t their fault. He was the one who broke his vows, after all.”

“Indeed.”

“It’s a bit of a sad story when you think about it, though,” Maite states, “Lady Rosales outlived the Queen by a lot of years if I remember correctly, which makes sense since she was so much younger,” she adopts a saddened face, “And, I had heard that there were rumors that Lady Amelia mourned the Queen even more than her own consort did. Considering they were lovers… that just seems so sad.”

“Yeah,” Gertrudes agrees, “Like I said, this ain’t a fairytale. It was the end of an era,” she points, “Literally, since the Vengeful Queen was the last monarch of the Ascension Era. But, at least they had a good run while they were both alive.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

Then, Gertrudes’s face splits into a wide grin, “But, don’t think I didn’t notice Santa Luisiana in that story!”

“Right,” Maite breaks into a smiles too, “There are so many saints in our history. And, the Wardeness Luisiana is definitely one of my favorites.”

Gertrudes gasps, “Mine too!”

They both exclaim in delight as they reach across you to clasp hands, but you notice that the Arch Sorceress is no longer paying attention to them. Instead, her eyes are trained on the door.

“Hmm…” she hums to herself, “I am glad that the two of you enjoyed yourselves, and it appears that that was a good point to end on for you. Your prior appointments are now ready for you.”

And then with that, the door once again swings open.

This time, standing in the doorway are two familiar adolescent boys, one in very early adolescence while the other is closer to later middle. The younger one is of southern descent, with golden skin and adorable curly black hair that can be nothing but magical, while the older one is of northern descent, with very light skin, red hair, and a good few freckles dotting his face.

“Oh, you’re both here. Excellent,” the curly-haired manservant comes in, bowing his head, “Lord Victor and Lord Porfirio are ready to see you. They’re both waiting just down the hall.”

“Oh, perfect!” Gertrudes shoots up, “I can’t wait to brag to Lord Fatty that I kinda-sorta met his ancestor!”

Maite stands up, and bows her head politely, “Thank you for the wonderful stories, Arch Sorceress.”

“Of course.”

Maite nods and Gertrudes waves goodbye to you, and then they both leave the room to meet with their respective appointments. The two boys still linger curiously by the doorway.

“Good day, Gilberto Herrera,” the Arch Sorceress nods, “And, good day to you, Piero Zapata. It is good to see you.”

“Oh, and you, Arch Sorceress,” Piero comes in, bowing his head, “I came here to visit Lord Duran. Uh, t-to give him an update on the hunt, I mean.”

“I was just escorting Sorcerer Zapata to meet with him,” Gilberto explains.

“Stay a while. Both of you,” the Arch Sorceress tells them, “My former cadet can wait for a moment. I was in the middle of regaling our guest with the stories of fringe figures from Ravarra’s past.”

“Oh,” Piero smiles, “Fringe stories? I like those.”

“Me too,” Gilberto nods, “I suppose we can stay for a short while.”

“Excellent,” the Arch Sorceress gestures, “Make yourselves comfortable.”

They both come and take seats next to you, Gilberto to your left and Piero to your right. Gilberto and Piero both smile and bow their heads to you.

“We have just finished a story from the final years of the Ascension Era,” the Arch Sorceress states, “Is there an era that either of you would prefer to learn more about?”

“Um,” Piero speaks up, “I know this is much later, but my favorite era has always been the Gran Renacimiento.”

“Mine too,” Gilberto agrees, “It’s such a complex and intriguing point in time. I would love to hear more stories from then.”

The Arch Sorceress nods, contemplating for a moment, “…In that case, perhaps a story around the father of the Gran Renacimiento himself. I feel like you may enjoy this one’s… wildness,” she gestures to each of you, “Now, if you would all join hands, please?”

“Oh!” Piero beams, “That kind of storytelling! I love that!”

“I know that you do.”

Gilberto and Piero each take one of your hands, waiting in anticipation for the story to begin.

“Now, I must remind you all not to become attached to the characters in the following stories,” the Arch Sorceress states, “These are but moments in their complex lives. As we have established, this is not a fairytale.”

“Understood, Arch Sorceress,” Gilberto nods.

“Good,” the Arch Sorceress reaches up a hand, “Now, relax and pay close attention…”

She touches your forehead once again, and you and the boys are transported to a new mind in a new era from long in the past…

***(2191 CR)***

Mateo was, by his own standards, a very successful boy when it came to sex. Despite his young age, he had always managed to get very lucky in every settlement he came across, from his home in Puerto Bello all the way here to the capital. Everywhere he went, girls and boys would flock to him like bees to a very luscious flower—compliments of his blood, and of his cute hair and his cute face.

But, that didn’t stop him from being jealous of Prince Guillermo. He may not have had any right to be, but he was. The Crown Prince certainly had no right to look the way he did. He should have looked plain and bland and stuffy and privileged and just all around boring like real Princes were supposed to look. But, no, not this Prince. This Prince had the audacity to have a face that belonged in fairytales, and a body that belonged in fantasies.

And, having caught a couple of passing glimpses at the Prince’s manhood, Mateo could confirm that that too was also beyond comparison in an unrealistic and extremely unfair way. From every single angle, he was perfect. And, that made Mateo jealous. If he so desired, the Prince could’ve easily seduced anyone he wanted into dropping their undergarments for him.

And as a matter of fact, he did do just that. Perhaps the one single shortcoming of Prince Guillermo’s character was that he was a bit of a whore—but of course, Mateo would be a hypocrite if he blamed him for that, which he didn’t. Over the course of their friendship, Mateo had witnessed his future King charm his way into the bed of every girl he wanted—and he wanted a lot. In fact, he was so sexually successful that he could’ve rivaled Mateo in that regard. If the contest only involved female targets, that was.

Speaking of which, Mateo was pulled from his thoughts as Prince Guillermo and the colonial Princess Dominica stumbled back onto the daybed that he was sitting on, groping and grabbing and smooching each other violently.

Princess Dominica pulled back, giggling giddily, “Is this scene a part of the manuscript?”

“It is now,” the Prince stated, smiling that disarmingly-attractive smile of his before pulling her back down for more.

A throat cleared, and everyone turned to the other colonial royal, Princess Cayetana, who was sitting at the other side of the table with a shy blush in her cheeks.

“If you both don’t mind,” the Princess from Anaxor spoke up awkwardly, twisting some of her flowing hair around her finger, “we do have a reading to finish…”

Princess Dominica pushed herself up, “Right. So,” she held up the manuscript, pushing some of her coils out of her face, “we were at, ‘You cannot separate us anymore than you can separate the stars from the sky,’ yada yada yada. Your turn, Bello.”

Mateo took the papers from her to find his lines, and recited, “‘By the Grace of God, what have I done for not one, but both of my daughters to insult me by falling to the charms of this fraudulent vagabond!?’”

“‘They insult you not, my liege,’” the Prince recited, having already memorized each and every line, “‘for as sun and moon both must return to the horizon, your offspring must return to the one that they both love most,’” then he made a face, “Actually, I don’t like that line.”

“Do you want to change it?”

“Later. Let’s just finish the scene for now,” he nodded to the Princess in front of him, “Mini?”

Princess Dominica took the papers from Mateo, and began to read in an excessively-passionate tone, “‘You cannot stop me, Father, I love him! We both do! If you send him away, I will race to the ends of the earth to return to his embrace!’” The Princess from Rueno smiled down at Prince Guillermo, who was biting his lip sensually, then she reached back to offer the manuscript, “Finish us off, Tana.”

Princess Cayetana stood, took the manuscript in hand, and read aloud the closing lines of the scene, “‘As will I, Father. You call him vagabond, but we call him lover, for he has been amorous to us both in a way that you could never understand.’” Prince Guillermo stood, and started walking over towards her. The Princess blushed again as she concluded, “‘Our shared love for him shall never diminish, and if that is a truth that you cannot accept, then you may consider yourself a lord without daughters.’”

The Prince stopped in front of her. She slowly looked up to him, and was instantly met with his insatiable lips.

Princess Dominica chuckled as she sat down next to Mateo, “There they go.”

Princess Cayetana dropped the manuscript as Prince Guillermo lifted her up, holding her by the buttocks as he carried her over to his bed.

Mateo watched as he lay her down on the edge, listened to the little moan that escaped her as he ground against her, and he was hot, and he was hard, and he was so damn jealous.

All four of them had been babies when Rueno and Anaxor had joined Ravarra as colonial territories, an apparently-prophesied agreement between their peoples as a result of their sharing a common enemy with the Pentozi slavers and the Armayan heretics respectively. But with the way that their people all got along so well, it was a wonder that they hadn’t been united for centuries. And, Prince Guillermo and the two native Princesses were the paragons of this amity. This very amorous amity.

For as long as he had known them, Mateo, the future Lord Bello, had been watching the future King fuck both of the future Exalted Princesses, and every time he did, he only got more and more jealous. But, it wasn’t the Prince that he was jealous of.

Princess Dominica nodded to him, “Should we leave them alone?”

Mateo shook his head, “I’m perfectly comfortable right here.” Jealous. But, perfectly comfortable.

Princess Dominica smiled slyly at him. Then, she got up, and climbed over to straddle his waist, “Want to become even more comfortable?”

“Without question,” he reached back and groped her ass.

It wasn’t the Prince that he was jealous of because he had no reason to be. Mateo was also fucking both of the Princesses.

She kissed him. He pushed her closer onto him, feeling her body on his, and then he reached down to—.

“Stop it, stop it!” Princess Cayetana exclaimed between giggles. Mateo and Princess Dominica looked over just as the other Princess pushed the Prince off, “It is too late in the night for this!”

“But, night is the best time to do it!” Prince Guillermo argued.

Princess Cayetana gave him an amused smirk as she pushed herself off the bed, “Tomorrow, maybe. But, not tonight. I have to get up early in the morning,” she came over, and tugged on Princess Dominica’s arm, “And, so do you!”

“Prude!” She complained, but she let her drag her up. Before she could be pulled away, Princess Dominica grasped Mateo’s hand, and gave it a kiss, “Let’s continue this sometime soon.”

“I am counting on it,” he smiled at her, giving her a wink as she departed.

Just then, Prince Guillermo collapsed beside him on the daybed with a sigh, looking down at the discarded manuscript with an unhappy expression.

“Unsatisfied?” Mateo asked.

“Always.”

“Do you want to rework the lines?”

The Prince shrugged, “Later, perhaps. Or never. It’s not like it’ll ever be seen on a stage anyhow. Somebody will whine that it, ‘promotes bigamy,’ or something.”

“No, it’s too good to go unseen. Maybe you can find a way to work around the controversial parts?”

“Maybe.”

Prince Guillermo watched the Princesses go, and Mateo watched Prince Guillermo watch the Princesses go. He watched the gorgeous frown on his face, and the flowing waves in his hair, the perfect outlines of his body, and the thick bulge in his crotch, and he watched it all with an unquenchable thirst, because when he watched the Prince fuck both of the Princesses, it wasn’t the Prince that he was jealous of. It was the Princesses.

Just then, Prince Guillermo looked down at the table, and reached over to pick up his trifariam beads, playing with them idly.

“Look at what God has given me,” the Prince’s lips spoke.

Mateo smiled again, “He has given you much.”

“He has,” he nodded slowly, “He has given me power and wealth. And, the reins of a great legacy,” he sat up, “He has given me a throne. Not just any throne, but the strongest throne in the known world. And with it, the reins of the strongest realm in the known world... And, He has given me such a significant number for when it is time for me to sit on that throne.”

He certainly wasn’t wrong about that.

When the time inevitably came for him to succeed his royal father, King Hernan the Voyager, Prince Guillermo was going to become the one-hundredth reigning monarch of Ravarra. He had been destined to leave his mark on history since the moment he’d been born.

Then, the Prince turned to Mateo.

“But, he has also given me talent. Talent for art and entertainment, talent for making everyone, lowborn and high alike, happy. The perfect talent necessary to spawn a new… great rebirth in our history,” he looked back down at the papers, “And yet right now, I cannot even write a decent play.”

Mateo placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, “You will make it work. You always find a way.”

The Prince sighed again, “I hope you’re right… I just want it to be perfect.”

“It will be,” he assured him. Then, a smirk grew across his face, “Is this a good time to note that… God also gave you beauty?”

Another disarming smile ignited Prince Guillermo’s face, “It’s always a good time to note that.”

“Such humility,” he chuckled, patting his shoulder lightly, “But, it’s true. Even without all of His other gifts, you are still one of the most beautiful people to ever grace the land.”

“You think so?”

“I know so,” he continued smirking, “And, I am not the only one who does.”

The Prince kept smiling, looking off in the direction that the Princesses had exited from, “I am rather popular, aren’t I?”

“Very much so, and for good reason.”

Prince Guillermo placed the trifariam back down on the table, and then reclined where he sat, and Mateo watched the bulge in his leggings bounce, “But, I don’t know if that alone is an achievement... The gift of beauty is one that God has given to many.”

“To you the most.”

He chuckled, “I’m not so sure about that,” the Prince then appeared to be lost in thought, “At least to my eyes, beauty is such a common gift. Everywhere I look, I see that gift bestowed on so many girls. Literally, it seems like in every corner of existence, girls are just so... beautiful. So gorgeous. So ravishing. So… fuckable.”

Mateo snorted, “Is that a word?”

“It is now,” the Prince smirked.

Mateo giggled at that as he leaned back, supporting his cheek on his hand, “Well, I agree. But, I would argue that that sentiment is not exclusive to girls.”

The Prince nodded slowly. Then, he turned and looked at Mateo, an interesting look in his eye.

“…What’s it like?” Prince Guillermo suddenly asked, “Laying with another boy, I mean.”

Mateo thought about that, and came up with one word, “Rougher.”

The Prince hissed out a laugh, “I could’ve guessed that! Come on,” he elbowed him, “Give me more details.”

“Alright,” Mateo smiled, thinking for a moment, “Hmm… Twice the foreplay, half the time.”

The Prince gave him a confused look, “Does that make it… better or worse than with a girl?”

Mateo shrugged, “Neither, really. It’s an experience of it’s own accord.”

He looked down, expression deep in thought, “Curious…”

Mateo’s eyebrows shot up.

‘Curious...’

‘Curious,’ was a sentiment that he had heard a thousand times.

It was a sentiment that he had heard used very commonly by mainland boys...

...Specifically, by mainland boys that he had ended up spending a night with.

And now, Prince Guillermo... was offering that same sentiment.

Mateo turned towards the Prince more, “Curious... how?”

The last thing he wanted was to misinterpret this moment.

The Prince shrugged somewhat shyly, “Curious in that... I may have also noticed the gift... bestowed on boys.”

...That definitely wasn’t a misinterpretation.

“When did you notice?”

He shrugged again, a slight bit more color in his bronze cheeks, “I think... I’ve always noticed. I just didn’t... know what to look for. Until recently...”

Mateo looked him up and down, “So... have you… thought much about it…? About... you know...” He made an offhand gesture.

The Prince was quiet for a second, but then he looked back up with a nod, “...Somewhat.”

“What about?”

He shrugged once again, “Just… how different it would be. How similar it would be… Just what it would feel like, I guess…”

Mateo and the Prince locked eyes for a long moment.

“…Well,” Mateo spoke up, “in my opinion, it is an experience that… one has to have in order to understand…”

The two boys continued to stare at each other, still and quiet for another long moment…

…Then, Prince Guillermo surged forward, connecting his lips with Mateo’s.

Mateo returned the kiss with full hunger, and hands started running along bodies. Then, the Prince’s strong arms wrapped around him, and picked him up, hand squeezing his ass like a ripe fruit, and carried him over to the bed.

As soon as they dropped down, the intimacy continued, and clothes started flying off instantly, until there was nothing left between them, and the flames of their passion roared.

Afterward, the two boys lay comfortably in bed together, catching their breaths as they looked into each other’s eyes.

Mateo stroked Prince Guillermo’s cheek, “So, what’s the verdict? Better or worse than with a girl?”

Prince Guillermo looked down in contemplation for a moment, then he looked back up with a smile.

“Neither, really. It was an experience of it’s own accord.”

***

“Though King Hernan the Voyager was the first monarch of the era,” the Arch Sorceress explains as you all return, “it is King Guillermo the Thespian who is considered the father of the Gran Renacimiento. It was our one-hundredth monarch who inspired the realm’s cultural shift in all things relating to art and beauty, and who influenced some much needed change in our society. And as you could tell, he was quite an explorative and open-minded man to top it all off. He was an icon for the ages.”

Gilberto and Piero are both blushing deeply beside you.

“Um,” Gilberto speaks up, “the Thespian King was certainly a very… intriguing fellow.”

“Yes,” Piero nods, “I had heard rumors that he, uh, laid with men as well. But, that’s not talked about much. At least, not as much as his exploits with women.”

“I heard that his consort, Queen Victoria Mendoza, slept around with both sexes as well. I believe it was what attracted them to each other,” Gilberto states, “They had a very open and healthy relationship. But when you think about it, it makes sense that his relations with other women would be more infamous.”

“True. I heard that he slept every Princess in the known world. And perhaps, a lot of the Princes too.”

“Every Princess?” Gilberto makes a face, “That is highly unlikely. There are, like, a hundred Princesses in Quirnon alone.”

“Well, perhaps just a lot of them, then. A lot of the main ones. Like, I heard that he was the real father of Armaya’s Queen Alexia the Last.”

“That is beyond ridiculous,” the Arch Sorceress shakes her head, “The final Arroya Queen was not born until the reign of his granddaughter, the Peacemaker, long after he had passed on.”

“Well, I heard that he was the real father of the Pharaoh Queen Nima of Quirnon,” Gilberto states.

“Again, beyond unlikely,” she waves dismissively, “Queen Nima was not born until the reign of his daughter, Queen Maria the Just.”

“Well, I also heard that he was the real father of the Sovereign Principal Calais of Pentoz,” Piero adds on.

The Arch Sorceress appears contemplative, “I… doubt that, but… I admit I’m not entirely certain of that one.”

Gilberto smiles, “Well, I suppose this story confirms a lot of the rumors about him. Especially that Lord Mateo Bello was one of his favorites.”

“Yes,” Piero nods, “It makes sense. Lord Mateo was famously attractive, and a very good actor. He was the original Miguel in the play, ‘Forevermore.’”

“Yeah. And, that play he and the Thespian were working on. That was, ‘The Vagabond of Heredia,’ wasn’t it?” Gilberto asks, “Lord Mateo was right, that one is very good. I guess it was in the final manuscript that he decided the sisters should be fighting over him.”

“Yeah. And,” Piero blushes again, “I-I think he succeeded in working around the sensitive themes in the climax. When the sisters are both running off into the sunset to be with him. They’re still trying to outdo each other, but… but it’s still implied that they’ll both end up with him. I-I think that was a good choice.”

“I agree,” Gilberto nods, “It’s part of what makes the story so engaging. I’m glad Lord Mateo could help him come up with that. He was clearly very talented in his own right.”

“He was,” the Arch Sorceress nods, “And, he and the territorial Princesses were also crucial in some of the reforms that the Thespian King and his daughter enacted, such as the abolition of the dying and controversial organizations of soldiers-at-arms and the city guard.”

“Right,” Gilberto adds, “That’s why every soldier, guard, or any official armed individual in the Kingdom is a knight.”

“Precisely,” she reaches up a hand, “Now, I believe it is time for the next story.”

“Yes, please,” Piero beams, “This is a lot of fun.”

“I am glad that you think so. This next story is not as ribald as the last one, but it is rather darling in my own opinion. Though, I am biased, because it is also very personal. Now, relax and pay attention…”

She reaches forward, and touches your forehead once again, transporting you to another mind from the past…

***(2311 CR)***

Elio knew that they shouldn’t be out here, especially not without guards. In truth, being where they were, they should’ve been accompanied by a legion of guards, or at least a decent contingent of them.

But, Prince Alfonso had wanted to see the bayou, and he had wanted to see it without the fuss of the Queen or the nobles or any guards. And, as his companion was a Prince—and the future King—Elio, being a mere sorcerer’s cadet, was in no position to stop him. But, that did not mean that he was going to let his Prince go out into this dangerous world alone.

“You can stop glaring at everything,” came the little voice of the Prince, “You’re drawing a lot of eyes.”

Elio turned to Prince Alfonso, who was staring at him from underneath the hood of his oversized cloak, “One can never be too careful in a place like this, Your Grace.”

“There doesn’t seem to be anything overly-threatening out here.”

“On the contrary, Your Grace, danger can always strike from where you least expect it, and a boy of your,” he looked around, “station needs protection at all times.”

“Nobody knows who I am here. They probably just think I’m some foreigner traveling with his magic user companion…” He coughed, which immediately turned into a series of more coughs.

After a moment’s hesitation, Elio reached out and put his arm around his shoulders, supporting him through his fit, “Come, let’s find a boat.”

No matter what Prince Alfonso thought, Elio wasn’t about to let his guard down. Their other friends—Andrea, Elio’s fellow cadet, and Prudencia, the Royal Guard’s page—were back in Castle Zapata, stalling for them, and since Elio was the only one out with the Prince, that meant that he was his first and only line of defense. And in a place like this, there was a lot that one needed defending from.

Aside from the local diseases and disreputable persons, this subregion was called Costa Jaguar for a reason. There were very few reasons why someone would name a place after such a dangerous animal, and if Elio wasn’t mistaken, euphony was not among them. If Elio were the monarch, God knew this would be one of the last places where he would ever let his heir set foot.

But, Lady Zapata’s husband had used to be a member of Queen Rosalía the Unifier’s retinue when they had been their age, back when Prince Alfonso’s grandmother, Queen Cierra the Peacemaker, was the ruler of Ravarra. Queen Rosalía had come up north to visit her friend. Obviously, there were other formal reasons for the visit relating to politics and diplomacy, but that was the true reason. And, she had brought Prince Alfonso with her.

And, as the only present member of Prince Alfonso’s retinue at the moment, it was Elio’s job to make sure that he remained safe. Not because he had any obligation to—Prince Alfonso had always been a very curious boy, and everyone knew it. Even if Elio hadn’t been the future lord of his House, he still wouldn’t have been blamed if something were to happen to him. But, Elio wasn’t going to let anything happen to him. He was here because he was loyal to his Prince. Besides, the last thing Ravarra needed was a repeat of the Succession War...

“Hello there, young sirs!” A vegetable merchant called to them as they passed her stall, “Would either of you care for an ear or four of fresh maize?”

She seemed to catch the Prince’s attention, who wandered over to glance at her produce, “Those look delicious.”

“Why thank you,” she smiled at him, “Heaven, my young friend, your accent is of the heartlands! Forgive me, I had assumed you were a visitor in our great Kingdom.”

“Uh, yes, my mother is from here.”

Elio supposed that wasn’t a lie, considering his mother was the Queen of the entire continent, or at least as much of it as civilization touched. But, his father had been from Armaya, the neighboring realm to the south, one of the brothers of their Queen Alexia. The two dominions had traded, a brother for a brother, and the dual marriage alliance between their two realms had been a historic first. Prince Alfonso was set to become the first monarch of Ravarra with foreign ancestry.

And, the Prince’s foreign features were only another reason why he needed to be protected, lest one of these ruffians tried to give a piece of their mind to the, ‘southern heretic.’

“Well, all the better for it. This realm is no stranger to mixed blood,” she held out one of the ears of maize to him, “Now, would you care to sample the best nutrients in the region? They come straight from the colonial territory of—Um, excuse you!”

Elio pushed the Prince back, giving the maize a once over, “Be careful with this stuff, Your Gr—uh, sir.”

“Elio…” the Prince stared at him, “It’s just a vegetable…”

“You can never be too careful, sir. You might choke on it.”

“I beg your pardon!?” The baffled seller glared at him.

“My apologies, madam, but my companion is very sickly. I’m afraid I cannot trust him with your produce.”

“I know how to chew, Elio…”

“Hmph, well I never…!” The vendor gathered up her merchandise, and turned away, muttering something under her breath about, ‘damned outlanders.’ Another reason not to buy from her.

“Come on,” he led Prince Alfonso away, “Let’s find a ferry.”

“Alright…”

He could tell that the Prince was disappointed, but as long as he was alive, it didn’t matter.

Finally, they reached the river, and asked around for a boat. Elio had ended up having to pay extra for a ferry without the ferryman in it for some reason, but it was worth the money. One could never be too careful. Once they had secured their ride, Elio helped the Prince into the boat, and soon they were off, gliding through the calm waters of the bayou.

The Prince removed his hood, glancing around at the sights, “This place is beautiful. Don’t you think so?”

“It is,” Elio agreed as he steered with the oar. Beauty could be dangerous, though…

“I want to see more of it,” he spotted something, and pointed ahead, “Go down that way.”

Elio looked where he was pointing, at a narrower stream leading further into the swamp, “But, that goes off of the main waterway, Your Grace.”

“That’s why I want to go there. I want to see more of the bayou without the taint of civilization.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Please?”

Elio looked down at the Prince, who was giving him his signature pleading look with those Armayan eyes. The look that Elio could never say no to.

Well… it would hardly be appropriate for him to deny a request from his future King.

“…Alright.”

Prince Alfonso gave him a brightening smile. Elio steered the ferry toward the smaller stream, and started to glide down it. All the while, he kept an even closer look at his surroundings, making sure that nothing was going to jump out at them if—.

Something splashed, and in less than a second, Elio had his wand out, and was firing rapid spells into the water.

“Elio!” Prince Alfonso grabbed his arm, “Elio, stop it! It’s just birds!”

“Birds!?”

But sure enough, once the splashing ceased, Elio spotted a startled flock of pigeons flapping out of the water and into the sky.

“Oh,” he lowered his wand, “My mistake.”

The Prince grimaced, his face turning a bit pale, “Can we stop for a moment? The wobbling upset my stomach…”

“Oh, sure.” Elio spotted a flat shoreline area, and steered towards it.

Once they reached it, Elio helped the Prince step out of the boat, and escorted him to sit down—.

A bush rustled.

Elio pushed the Prince back, and retrieved his wand, “Stay behind me, Your Grace!”

“Elio, it’s just an animal!”

“A dangerous animal!” Elio told him, “It could be a jaguar! Or a panther!”

“Those are the same things, Elio!”

“Stay behind me!”

The rustling got louder, and Elio started to see a figure. Elio lightly touched the trifariam around his neck, whispering a prayer to God that if one of them had to be eaten today, let it be him and not the Prince. He raised his wand, and prepared to shoot…

…A rabbit.

The little mammal hopped out of the bush, gave them a curious glance, and then hopped away.

Elio lowered his wand, and released a sigh of relief. He turned to the Prince, who was now scowling at him.

“What’s wrong with you!?” Prince Alfonso demanded, “Why are you jumping at every little thing!?”

Elio put his wand away, “Your Grace, I’m only trying to protect you.”

“From bunnies!?”

“It was a rabbit!”

“It’s the same thing, Elio!”

“Your Grace,” he scowled back now, “you cannot expect to explore the wilds of the world as if it is your Palace!”

“I can take care of myself!”

“No, you cannot! You can’t even sit in a boat without getting sick! Honestly, it’s as if you have a death wish! You can’t go out into the world, and expect it to treat you nicely just because you’re a Prince and small and cute!”

Prince Alfonso stared at him.

“…What did you say?”

“Uh,” Elio turned away, face burning, “nothing.”

“No, what did you say!?”

“Nothing!”

“Elio Calderón—.”

“I didn’t say anything! I just said that you need protection! A-And, since you refuse to let anyone else do it, it’s my job to make sure you stay safe, and that you don’t get into trouble, and that nothing hurts you, and—!”

Elio involuntarily squeaked as his tirade was silenced by his Prince’s lips.

Prince Alfonso pulled back, and gave him another one of his world-brightening smiles.

“…I think you’re cute too.”

***

The Arch Sorceress is chuckling when you return, “Little Alfonso and Elio. Their relationship was such an adorable thing. Something that you’d think you would only see in fairytales.”

“King Alfonso and Lord Calderón,” Gilberto stares at her, “They were your friends.”

“My best friends,” she confirms, “They shaped my entire youth, and turned me into the woman I am today.”

“That’s such a sad story,” Piero states, a disappointed look on his face.

“What?” Gilberto looks at him, “I thought it was cute.”

“It was a cute moment that we saw,” he explains, “But, how the story ends… it wasn’t so cute.”

“Oh,” Gilberto looks down, “Right… Not a fairytale.”

“Yes,” the Arch Sorceress nods slowly, a hint of sadness in her gray eyes, “King Alfonso the Hapless would succumb to his mother’s illness only a couple years later. Only one month into his reign, at the tender age of thirteen,” she shook her head, “And, Elio… the last liege of House Calderón. He never recovered. I cannot blame him. And, I cannot blame him for what happened after… If it is alright with all of you,” she asks, “I would rather not speak of this any further.”

“Of course, Arch Sorceress,” Piero nods.

Arch Sorceress Andrea takes a breath, and lets it out slowly. You all sit in silence for a long moment.

Then, Gilberto turns toward Piero, “Uh, Costa Jaguar. That’s the Zapata subregion.”

“Yes,” Piero nods.

“It seemed very pretty. Does it still look like that?”

“Mostly. But, the settlement’s larger now. And, more diverse, thanks to increased migration, mostly from Rueno.”

“I’d love to visit it someday. But, uh, are the jaguars a significant problem?”

“They’re not a… problem,” Piero makes a face, “Speaking of, I’m glad that the Hapless corrected him about jaguars and black panthers being the same species. I hate when people think otherwise, that’s just so… ludicrous.”

“Not everyone knows a lot about animals,” Gilberto shrugs, “If something looks different from another, they assume it’s because it is.”

“But, that’s so stupid! They don’t look different! They’re just different colors! I mean,” he points at Gilberto, “I’m not the same color as you! Does that mean we’re a different species!?”

Gilberto laughs at that, which causes Piero to laugh, and even Arch Sorceress Andrea joins in on the shared laughter. The silence afterward is this time a lot more comfortable.

The Arch Sorceress takes in a relaxed breath, “Well now… I believe we have time for one more story.”

“If you’re sure, Arch Sorceress,” Gilberto states.

“Yes. This is a good story,” she points to Gilberto and Piero, “And in fact, it is a story that greatly affects both of you.”

They both stare at her in confusion, glancing at each other briefly.

“You shall see what I mean very shortly,” she reaches up a hand, “If there was ever a time to pay close attention, it is now. Now, relax, focus, and enjoy…”

And with that, she touches your forehead one more time, and transports you into the past…

***(2393 CR)***

Lucas could hear thunder in the distance as he marched through the halls, clutching his trifariam close to his chest as he continued his prayers under his breath, just as he had been doing for the past three hours.

He hadn’t meant for this to happen—He hadn’t. All he had wanted was for it… for her… to stop.

He understood all too well that this had been his duty, his role in this world. His life had been laid out for him since the moment he’d been born—No, since the moment he’d been conceived. He was a simple second-born child. His only place in the world was to be the husband to someone important.

But, that woman had just been so… horrible. Beyond horrible.

She had hurt him. Constantly, day and night, in so many ways. Mental ways… Physical ways…

And, other ways…

And, he had had no power to stop her. He had been powerless against her. Ever since the day that they’d exchanged vows, he had rescinded every form of independence he’d had for her. Ever since that day, it had become painfully clear that he had only three places left in this world. Beside… Behind…

…Underneath.

But, he had finally had it. He wasn’t going to let her do this to him. Not anymore. He was powerless against her. Everyone was powerless against her. So, he had turned to the only one who wasn’t powerless against her. He had turned to God. And, he had prayed, begged, pleaded to God to make her stop. To make her stop by any means necessary.

And, God had answered his prayers…

And now, Lucas was left with no other choice but to clean up the mess that those prayers had caused.

He heard the thunder outside once again, closer this time as he approached his destination. He finished his prayer with the sign of the star, gave the trifariam a kiss, and then placed the beads over his head, letting them fall around his neck like an ornament. He came to the door at the end of the hall.

His constant companion was there, sitting beside it.

Julián stood as he noticed his approach, and immediately rushed over to him, taking his hands in his. Lucas appreciated that. He needed all the comfort he could get right now. And, Julián was the only person in the world who made him feel comfortable.

Lucas nodded to the door, “Is the Court assembled?”

“The ones that matter.”

“Good…” That meant that his father was not in there. That was good. Lucas didn’t know if he would’ve been able to look the Lord Del Mar in the face when he told him…

He eyed the ground, the realization washing over him again.

Julián lifted a hand up to touch his face, “How are you feeling?”

Lucas willed his emotions away, looking up and giving him a nod, “I am fine.”

Julián gave him a sad smile as he caressed him, “You should know by now never to lie to me…”

Lucas sighed, looking down again. Of all the people in the realm, Julián was the only one who could ever see through his emotional shield, “I killed her.”

“No, you did not.”

“I did.”

“You did not,” Julián repeated, “She did that to herself. It was bound to happen eventually.”

“You weren’t there when it happened…”

“But, I was there after,” his hand slipped to his chin and lifted it up to meet his eyes, “Stop moping. You have a job to do.”

“I know.”

“Good,” he inclined his head towards the door, “Now, go in there, tell them what happened, and tell them what we’re going to do. Be strong, Luca… The entire realm is counting on you.”

Lucas composed himself, letting that sink in, and then gave a firm nod, “Right.”

He was right.

He did have a job to do.

Whether he had caused this mess or not, he was the only one who could clean it up.

Julián nodded back. Then, he pulled Lucas into a warm hug.

“And, know that I will be here for you. As I have always been.”

Lucas returned the tight embrace, taking comfort in the solace of his childhood companion.

Julián pulled back, and gave Lucas a pretty smile. The same smile that had kept him sane for the past two years of this horrible marriage. The same smile that he had given him so long ago on the night of their binding ceremony. The same smile that had caught his eye—and his heart—all those years ago.

Julián leaned forward, and Lucas shut his eyes as he felt the lips of his paramour brush against his own. The sound echoed like music when they pulled apart, and Lucas opened his eyes and smiled back.

Their hands lingered for but a moment, until finally it came time for Lucas to face his destiny. He composed himself one more time, giving Julián one more lingering gaze, and then he reached for the handle, and opened the door.

Those currently occupying the room looked up as he entered, expressions of confusion lining their faces in a pattern. When it came to the Monarch’s Court, ‘the ones that matter,’ only constituted one-third of those who sat on it. But, that was just as well. They were, ‘the ones that mattered,’ for a reason. And, once the rest of the Court inevitably caught wind of this, they would no doubt understand the gravity of the situation, and why the ones assembled here now were essential for what was to come. Arch Sorcerer Guadalupe of the Holy Order of Gray. Lady René De La Luz, the mistress of war. Lord Anacleto Ayala, the master of whisperers. Warden Laureano, head of the Royal Guard. And, Isabela Duran, the premier knight of the realm.

“Your Grace?”

Lucas waved to stop them from standing up for him as he closed the door behind him, “Masters, mistresses, good evening.”

“And, to you, Your Grace,” Lady René eyed him curiously, “Forgive us, we were not expecting you… Where is the Queen?”

Lucas came forward and took his place at the vacant seat at the head of the room. The seat that belonged to the reigning monarch. The seat that had belonged to his wife…

“…The Queen is dead.”

Someone gasped. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air for a very long moment. Lucas allowed them that moment to process the information he was giving them.

“…Dead?” Premier Isabela finally spoke up, “Queen Noelia is… dead? How?”

“Naturally,” Lucas informed them all, “Her… indulgent lifestyle got the better of her. Her heart gave out.”

And, that was the truth. Noelia’s death had been completely natural.

Though, whether or not this natural death was brought about by divine intervention was… another question entirely.

“When did this happen?” Lord Anacleto asked.

“Just a few hours ago.”

“Hours!?” Warden Laureano demanded, “Why are we only hearing of this now!? Who else knew about this!?”

“Only us, Julián Loyola, and Cardinal Andrea.”

Sorceress Andrea, the Arch Sorcerer’s former student, had been quite a great help. Unsurprising, as this was far from the first time she’d dealt with the premature death of a monarch. She was traveling out west as they spoke, to prepare for what had to be done next.

“And, why is the Court only now hearing of it!?” Warden Laureano demanded again, “The Queen of Ravarra... dead! Why are the mourning bells not ringing for the passing of our reigning monarch!?”

“Because this knowledge cannot be allowed to leave this room.”

Another long silence hung in the air.

Lucas folded his hands and addressed the assembled heads of the realm, “I have a plan. A dangerous one, but a necessary one. The only choice we have,” he gave them each a serious look, “And, I am going to need your cooperation—each and every one of you—for this to pull through.”

“Why should we cooperate with you!?” Warden Laureano glared at him, “You are not the ruler of this Kingdom!”

“Please, Warden,” the old Arch Sorcerer chastised him, “show respect for the young widower.” Then, he turned to Lucas, “But, I’m afraid he has a point. A consort has no authority over the Court, and with your wife… deceased and childless, I am afraid you do not even hold that title anymore.”

“You are correct,” Lucas admitted, “I am no longer King Consort, and I cannot be a King Regent, as my wife and I produced no heir for me to hold a regency for.” Then, he leaned forward, “But, I am King Dowager. And as such, I am the only, ‘King,’ left in the Kingdom. For now, I am still King Lucas. So, unless one of you has a plan to avoid a third Succession War—or God forbid, another Curse—I suggest you all comply and heed my advice.”

No one spoke, so Lucas took that to mean that they were willing to hear him out.

“Good,” he sat back, “As we have established, the late Queen Noelia the Reveler, God rest her soul, was heirless. And, that means that the next in line for the throne… is King Nicolas.”

Another uncomfortable silence, one that Lucas shared.

King Nicolas was Noelia’s younger brother, who had recently been married off to Queen Erica, the new ruler of Armaya, the… infamous continent to the south.

The one infamous for being favorable to one half of their population… and less than favorable to the other half.

Armaya was a, ‘Queendom,’ for a reason.

And, Lucas had no intention of letting anyone be treated the way that Noelia had treated him ever again.

“That is precisely why no one can know,” Lucas concluded, “Our culture, our independence, our freedom are all in jeopardy. Unless we act with extreme caution. We need to sever all ties to the intoxicated southern heretics as quickly and as quietly as possible… By any means necessary.”

Everyone stared at him, immediately understanding exactly what he was implying.

‘By any means necessary.’

He leaned forward one more time, giving each of them a look that he hoped conveyed the true weight of the situation.

“So, until our rightful King has returned to us—with no strings from the south attached—the knowledge of our Queen’s passing must stay within these walls. Are we in agreement?”

The members of the Court stared at each other in turn, conveying clear messages of concern and worry to each other without words for several long moments, but eventually they came to see the truth. It was the only choice they had.

One by one, each present member of the Monarch’s Court finally turned back to him, and nodded in affirmation.

“Excellent,” Lucas sat up, “Now, here’s what we’re going to do…”

***

“And thanks to him,” Arch Sorceress Andrea explains as you all return, “Queen Noelia the Reveler’s brother was able to return to Ravarra, and become coronated as King Nicolas the Returner, the final monarch of the Gran Renacimiento. Truly, if it were not for him, our realm today would be a very different dominion.”

“San Lucas…” Gilberto stares with wide eyes.

“Of course!” Piero sits up, “I didn’t know that you participated in the Reveler Conspiracy, Arch Sorceress.”

“Hardly,” she waves dismissively, “Lucas exaggerated. I merely helped them plan, and delivered the right messages to the right people.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s the definition of a conspiracy,” Gilberto points out.

The Arch Sorceress chuckles, “I suppose it is.”

“That’s why you said that. That the story affects both of us,” Piero realizes, glancing a Gilberto, “Because, it’s the story of San Lucas.”

“Indeed,” the Arch Sorceress sighs, “Ay… When King Nicolas learned of the circumstances of his sister’s death, and of what had to be done to bring him home, he was not pleased. He severely reprimanded the Court, and all but disowned his brother-in-law as a member of the Royal Family. Lucas was then married off to the lady of House Velasco.”

“Who died in childbirth,” Gilberto continues, “But, King Nicolas wasn’t content with letting him live out his days as a Lord Dowager anymore than he was with letting him live out his days as King Dowager, despite the fact that he was now a father. That’s when he was married off to the lady of House Herrera.”

“Who died miscarrying their second child,” Piero concludes, “Everyone thought he was cursed, but King Nicolas was so vindictive that even then he still wasn’t done with him. That’s when he was married off to the lady of House Zapata, who had one child with him, and then refused to touch him after for fear of her own life.”

“Yes. He singlehandedly saved the future of Ravarra as we know it, and he was rewarded by getting passed around the realm like a collection pot,” the Arch Sorceress shakes her head, “I suppose this is a rather sad story as well.”

“But, at least he had Julián by his side the whole way,” Gilberto puts in.

“And, it did work out in the end,” Piero adds.

“Indeed, it did,” she agrees, “After Lucas’s fourth marriage, the King’s new wife, Queen Malicia Del Fuego, was finally informed as to why her husband was so viciously tormenting her predecessor as consort. But, Queen Malicia, despite her given name, was the paragon of everything good in this Kingdom. Strength and piety, kindness and benevolence. And, she refused to let this royal bullying be his reward. She informed the realm as a whole what Lucas had done for them, and made certain that everyone knew there would be no Ravarra if not for him. That is how he became a saint.”

“And, her too,” Gilberto adds, “And, that’s not all she did for him.”

“That too is true,” she agrees, “As both an honor and an apology for everything done to their father, Lucas’s three children were gifted three identical enchanted swords by her. And, each of them agreed to name all of the blades after the kind Queen who gave them to them.”

“My mother uses the Queen Malicia when she goes into battle,” Piero states, “It’s kind of ironic, since she’s using it to fight Del Fuego’s now.”

“Lady Antonia just keeps her Queen Malicia displayed on the mantle,” Gilberto giggles, “It’s good that San Lucas was finally rewarded for what he did. Even if he wasn’t my ancestor, I still know that he deserved it. That’s why Lucas is my God-name.”

Piero turns and stares at him, “…Lucas is my God-name too.”

Gilberto smiles at him, “Small realm.”

“Big realm,” he argues, smiling back, “but the greatest one in existence.”

“Agreed.”

“Agreed,” the Arch Sorceress repeats, “And, I believe that is the perfect spot for an end,” she indicates to them both, “My former student awaits. And, I’m certain His Grace has need for his manservant. So, I shall let you boys go. I hope that you have enjoyed yourselves.”

“We did,” Piero stands up, “Thank you, Arch Sorceress.”

“Thank you, Arch Sorceress,” Gilberto repeats, standing up as well, “It was truly wonderful.”

They both give you one more smile and bow their heads, and then they turn and head for the door, leaving you alone with the old Arch Sorceress.

“And, there you have it,” she tells you, “You have witnessed some of the greatest moments of birth, development, and change in our realm over the course of it’s millennia-long timespan. This was only a sample of our history, of course. The fringes, as we said. As you must know, I have only allowed you to brush the surface of our Kingdom’s mountain of lore.”

She turns to the crackling fire, and in the flickering light, you can just see the hint of a smirk on her face.

“There is much history that I have lived through, and even more that I have not. In this realm, in those of our neighbors, and in those far from here… And, there is still yet much to learn.”

She turns back to you, raising her wrinkled golden hands to you amiably.

“But, that is all we have time for today, my friend. I’m sure it does not surprise you that the Arch Sorceress of Our Lady of Gray’s Holy Order has other obligations. I do hope that you enjoyed yourself, and I bid you farewell.”

You go to leave, and as you do, Arch Sorceress Andrea turns again to stare once more into the fire.

“I thank you again for joining me on this journey through Ravarra’s past, my friend. But, know that though these stories may be over… there are still many more that have yet to begin… We all still have much to learn in a time that will span forevermore…”

With that, you leave the room, and you catch a glimpse of her form continuing to look into the crackling fire as the door swings shut.

***(3019 CR)***

Thinking of all of the stories from the past had caused Andrea to think about recent history, about the final monarch of Ravarra that she had coronated, as she stared into the fire, absentmindedly fingering the trifariam that hung around her neck.

Queen Veta the Cunning hadn’t been the last monarch in general that she had coronated. That had been her son when he had become the Crown Prince of Rueno when he’d turned thirteen. But, Queen Veta was the last reigning monarch of Ravarra that she had coronated, and perhaps the last that she ever would.

And, why was that? Because, when King Basilio the Proud had ascended to the throne, she and him had not been on good terms. He had blamed her for helping his mother to incite conflict during the cold war. He had seen her standing by her Queen’s side as she and Lord Felipe Mendoza had been at each other’s throats, and he had blamed Andrea for their antagonization and paranoia. That hadn’t been her who had done that. That had been his father, the King Consort Humberto Travieso Reyes, and his eventual mother-in-law, the Lady Refugia Ayala Mendoza. The two spymasters hadn’t been pulling every string, but they had been pulling a lot of them.

But even then, his irritation towards her had been simply childish. Andrea could whine that she was only doing her duty by serving her Queen, but that wouldn’t have been the truth. She had been doing her duty, but she had been doing it because she had agreed with it.

After all, if it had been Andrea’s grandfather, her parents, and then her great-grandfather all dropping like flies within the span of a single month, she would have been paranoid too.

King Ricardo the Jolly had been the first monarch of what the chroniclers were referring to as the Obsidian Era, though the age technically didn’t start until the King had fallen ill and died. On his deathbed, he had told his great-granddaughter that the best way to get revenge on their enemies was to live, and to thrive. It wasn’t until much later that his descendants would finally start to live up to that concept.

Even now, Andrea didn’t know who was truly responsible for the demise of King Ricardo, or the Crown Prince Ambrosio, or Princess Leonor and Prince Gregorio.

It could have been the Mendoza’s, for having their marriage proposals denied several generations over, first when King Ricardo had married Agape of Agriuel, then when Prince Ambrosio had married Amada Del Mar, and again when Princess Leonor had married Gregorio Ochoa.

It could have been the Ayala’s, for the Crown allowing the Travieso’s to form their own independent web of spies during the latest of the countless conflicts between the Kingdom of Quirnon and the Principality of Pentoz.

Maybe it could have even been Quirnon, for King Ricardo’s marriage to Queen Agape, a Pentozi, in the midst of their conflict.

Or, maybe even the Travieso’s had done it, perhaps to incentivize people to see the need of their own espionage operation, or to guide the new Queen into marrying one from their House, or perhaps to stop the Crown from suing for peace between Quirnon and Pentoz, or perhaps even a different reason entirely. They were certainly capable of any of those.

All of them were capable of any of those.

It had been a very complicated time.

But, one thing was for certain. Their immediate deaths, however natural they appeared, were far too suspicious to be coincidental. And, if King Basilio had truly believed that they were coincidence, then he had been more gullible than an Armayan concubinus. Maybe a harem full of concubinuses.

But even so, no matter who was truly responsible, when Queen Veta had pointed her finger, Lord Felipe had pointed his right back.

That was how the Cunning Cold War had started. And, it had ended right where it might have been avoided all along. With marriage.

When King Basilio had married Queen Santana Mendoza, and Lord Celso Mendoza had married Princess Adora, the then-Prince had made a point of the dual wedding being officiated by Grand Wizard Geronimo, and not her. And, on the day that he succeeded his mother as monarch of Ravarra, he had again made a point of being coronated by Geronimo. It had come as no surprise to her when he had finally declared that Geronimo would be replacing her as his magical advisor.

King Basilio had been a decent King. But, he had been a very childish one.

And now, under the reign of his overburdened daughter—the one-hundred-and-thirty-sixth of her line, the appropriately-named Queen Reyna the Gracious—the realm was once again on the cusp of internal conflict, and there were no marriage alliances to be had this time. Civil war was imminent.

But, Ravarra would survive. It always did.

And until this conflict came to an end and another one took it’s place, until this Obsidian Era came to an end and another took it’s place, for however long she would live, Andrea would be here to serve the Crown of House Reyes, as she had been doing nonstop for all seven-hundred-and-nineteen years of her life.

She had been born and served under Queen Rosalía, and then she had served King Alfonso as his closest friend alongside Elio and Prudencia. And after that, from then all the way to Queen Estela, she had served from a distance. Then, from King Samuel all the way to Queen Veta, she had served as the closest advisor to the Crown. And though he had cast her aside, she had served King Basilio as best she could.

And, she would continue to serve Queen Reyna as best she could.

And one day, God-willing, she was going to serve King Esteban as best she could.

Because, they were worth it. Because, Ravarra was worth it.

The door creaked open.

Andrea looked up to see the figure of Warden Anselmo Peña standing in the doorway.

“Arch Sorceress,” he nodded to her, “Her Grace requests your presence.”

“Very well,” she nodded back.

He left the room, and Andrea took one more brief moment to glance into the fireplace. Then, she took a breath, pulled herself to her feet, and turned and left to go and serve her reigning monarch, and to serve Ravarra.

Chapter Text

You stand in the middle of a large, dark room somewhere in the Founder’s Palace, illuminated only by candles on the walls to your left and right, and a crackling fire directly ahead of you. Seated next to the fireplace is the familiar figure of an elderly woman wearing gray clerical robes and the beads of a trifariam.

“Welcome back, my voyeuristic friend,” Arch Sorceress Andrea greets you warmly, beckoning you over. “Come, sit. I have a special treat planned for you today.”

You do as she says, crossing the room to take your place across from her next to the fire.

“It has been a long time since we were last here,” she states as you settle in. “For you, at any rate. At my age, time tends to move quite a bit faster. Especially when one spends so much time glimpsing into the past. Which brings us to why you are here now,” she nods. “It is time for another glimpse into the fringes of our history.”

The old Arch Sorceress turns, looking into the fire as the light flickers across her golden face.

“The last time we were here, you were shown stories from the birth and rebirth of our realm. The Ascension Era and the Gran Renacimiento are favored topics among Ravarra’s casual explorers of history, and why should they not be?” Arch Sorceress Andrea shrugs. “Our two great golden ages evoke a sense of pride in the Reinos people because they show us what we were at our peak, and what we could be again. And in these times of war, the stories of these eras can evoke another yearning in a people ravaged by constant struggle, for though these golden ages had conflicts within them, those conflicts were always eclipsed by eras of great peace,” she explains. “The age that succeeded the Ascension Era was known as the First Gran Paz, three-and-a-half centuries of peace and prosperity, the result of the successful unification of a continent that had been fighting itself for eons without end. And, the Gran Renacimiento would never have come about without the ending of the Second Gran Paz, when the world had finally had enough of six centuries of peace and cooperation with one another.”

Her bright gray sorcerer’s eyes then turn from the flickering fire to stare directly into your own eyes and soul.

“But, you likely have never been told a story from the time in between. The casual historian may be reluctant to explore that time. The period between the First and Second Grandes Pazes when peace was a concept long forgotten, washed away by an indomitable and all-consuming darkness.”

Then, the Arch Sorceress reaches up, and points a finger towards your face.

“It is time for you to finally be given a glimpse of this era. You know the rules. No emotions, no attachments. If there was ever a period in history that wasn’t a fairytale, it was most certainly this one. Now, relax and pay close attention.”

With that, the finger touches your forehead, and your mind is transported to that of another, long in the past…

***(The Eastern Wastes, the Tierra Del Fuego, 899 CR)***

Juan shuffled out of the morning drizzle and into the inn, running a hand through his hair to get the droplets out of his curls. He took a moment to peek outside to make sure that he hadn’t been followed, and, not seeing any further cause for concern, he shut the door behind him. Then, he straightened his clothes as he turned back to the crowded common room.

Fortunately, nobody in here seemed to be paying him any mind. Inns like this one were a miracle, especially in this part of the realm. Northern villages such as this one, where everyone was light of skin and hair, usually would have made it impossible for a bronze-skinned westerner like Juan to be discreet.

But, not in inns like this, and thank God and magic for that. Inns catered to locals and visitors alike, and this early in the morning, the only thing on most people’s minds was café, cacao, or shelter from the rain. Or in Juan’s case, shelter from other things…

“There he is.”

Turning towards the familiar voice, Juan spotted three of his six associates huddled at a table in the corner. Despite their best efforts, they still stood out like sore thumbs in a crowd like this.

Analisa sat at their head, a beautiful woman of darkish skin and kinky-curly hair which stood as the physical representation of her—extremely—mixed blood. She was the leader of their little band of adventurers, by virtue of both being their founder and being of such ‘high status’ in society—but that latter virtue was a secret, one that she hid under common clothes.

To her left sat Catalina, another girl of mixed blood with slightly darker skin and hair that was more coily than curly. Though she was much lower in the aristocratic hierarchy than Analisa, she was the only one who actively advertised her noble blood, as was made clear by the fancy shimmering armor that she almost never removed. But, that shimmering armor also hid a secret, one that was similarly connected to an ancient bloodline.

And, to Analisa’s right sat Filomeno, a proper commoner just like Juan, which was probably why he was Juan’s favorite among their more-human peers. Though he was also suspected of having mixed blood, that was much harder to tell from his physical appearance alone, possessing skin that was on the paler side and hair that was a shaggy dark brown.

Juan cleared his throat, then did his best to put on his signature smile and act normal as he made his way over to the group. “Good morning, my fetching fellows. My curvaceous companions—.”

“Sit the fuck down,” Analisa ordered in a quiet tone. “Where were you last night?”

Bossy as ever, Juan noted. This was bound to be an interesting day.

He cleared his throat again as he slowly lowered himself into a chair. “I was at a forge. Getting my sword polished.”

Filomeno made a face at him that Catalina would probably describe as ‘incredulous’. “In the middle of the night?”

Juan nodded, shifting in his chair only slightly. “It needed a very thorough polishing.”

The three of them stared at him in confusion, which hopefully meant that he had succeeded in curbing any suspicions about his whereabouts.

Then, Analisa shook her head. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Listen,” she looked at each of them now, “we need a job.”

Juan smirked at her. “A job? You’ll have to be more specific, I’m good at all kinds of ‘jobs’. Is this your way of asking me to do some ‘nighttime work’—?”

“Juan, be serious for one moment!” Catalina hissed at him.

Juan sighed. One of those days, indeed. “Alright. So, we need a job-job. Because we don’t have a job-job. What else is new?” Just then, something jumped into his lap, and he looked down in surprise. “Oh, hi!”

The fourth of his associates squirmed around as Juan petted his fur, and looking further under the table, he spotted the hazel eyes and black-coated visage of the fifth, hidden from view. He had no idea how they’d managed to sneak her massive ass under this table, but when it came to the cats, Juan found that it was better not to ask questions.

Itzel and Otoronco were the band’s animal companions, because by the laws of every fairytale ever told, all adventurers needed an animal companion. Though, not every adventurer could say that their animal companion was an apex predator.

They were jaguars, Itzel a black panther and Otoronco a regular orange. Itzel had been Catalina’s ‘childhood companion’ courtesy of her father’s House, and wherever one went, the other always followed. Otoronco was Itzel’s cub, the newest member of their band as of a few months ago. He beat Filomeno out as Juan’s favorite, because out of all of their other bandmates, Otoronco was the only one who was smaller than Juan.

“It’s different this time,” Catalina stated, pulling Juan out of his thoughts as she retrieved a small pouch that jingled as it hit the table.

“What is that?” Juan asked as he returned the cub to his mother.

“That would be what is left of our funds,” Analisa answered gravely.

“That’s it?” Filomeno shook his head. “Fuck. I hadn’t realized we were running so low.”

“Well,” Juan thought aloud, “finding bounties shouldn’t be too hard out here. There must be some sort of troublemakers running around that the locals wouldn’t mind being rid of. Brigands or violators, maybe an oversized gargoyle.”

“That would require these locals to trust us enough to ask,” Analisa sighed.

“If walking bounties don’t work, we’re also not far from the Tierra De Arena. That means tombs upon tombs for days,” Filomeno put in. “The slaver-monarchs of old Cuatro Reinos buried themselves with tons of treasures. Maybe there’s a specific relic that someone might want to retrieve. The church pays good money for those.”

“Why, what a splendid idea, Fifi!” Juan beamed innocently at him. “I can see the appeal of sneaking into such dark and cramped spaces, fondling and grasping for someone’s family jewels…”

Filomeno blushed and turned away from him. “Shut up, Juan…”

Juan giggled. He really couldn’t help himself. Filomeno was too easy.

“You forget which church this village adheres to,” Catalina reminded him. “You remember which prong was facing up? Damisela wouldn’t approve of doing work for them.”

“Fair enough…” Filomeno sighed.

Then, Analisa looked around in confusion. “Speaking of… Where is she, anyway?”

Then as if on cue, the familiar sound of excessive stomping made its way down the nearby stairs, and the massive form of Juan’s sixth associate came into view.

Damisela was the band’s muscle, a woman near as big as a feathered serpent and with a temper just as fierce. Of the three girls, Damisela was the closest to being a portrait of the eastern people, having the darkest skin and the kinkiest hair. She wore her hair in the thick locs that they called ‘liberty braids’, a symbol of freedom, resistance, and literal broken chains that was popular with the descendants of the east all over the realm, even now so many centuries after the fall of Selvaro.

And, around her neck hung her trifariam, the beads dipping down between her massive cleavage and ending in the three-pronged star, the iconography of the One True Doctrinal Faith. Like Catalina’s armor, that trifariam almost never left Damisela’s shoulders. They were the physical manifestation of her love for God and magic… Well, one of the magics. The one depicted on the topmost prong of her star.

As for the other two prongs… it was safest to simply say that Damisela had ‘opinions’.

The big girl rubbed a hand over her face, clearly trying to get over the hangover that Juan had last seen her creating for herself before he’d left the previous night. Then, she spotted them across the room, and started stomping over to them.

Catalina nodded to her, “Good morning, Dami—.”

“What’s good about it, fleabag?” Damisela plopped herself into her chair with a groan. “Fuck me sideways and call me Santana.”

Juan smirked at her, “Is that a request—?”

“Over your dead body, midget.” She snapped her fingers at a passing serving boy. “I need hot cacao, and I need it now.”

“We’re glad that you have decided to join us,” Analisa told her with just a hint of sass. “We were just discussing the need for employment. Our funds are running dangerously low.”

Damisela gave her a pouty face. “So, open a vault, Princess. What’s the point of having all that money if you’re not going to spend it?”

“I can’t just open vaults without permission. That would draw too much attention that we sincerely do not need.”

“As if you’re not still in this profession for the attention of it.” Damisela then turned to Catalina and rubbed her fingers together, “What about you, kitty cat? Spare some coppers for a damsel in distress?”

“I also do not have access to my family’s coffers. Besides, that would be morally incorrect. That money is for my people.”

“I am your people!”

“My subjects, Damisela…”

“This is unbelievable!” Damisela turned to Filomeno. “How did we get saddled with the stingiest rich girls in Ravarra?”

Filomeno shrugged. “I think it is a sign of good leadership to put one’s people first.”

Damisela responded by rolling her eyes. “Ever the kiss-ass, garlic breath.”

“I haven’t had anything with garlic in it all week…”

“And, praise God and all of the magics for it.” At that moment, the serving boy returned with her chocolate, and Damisela swiped it up and started gulping it down.

Juan glanced around for a moment before speaking up, “So, if we’re all out of ideas, I’d like to remind everyone that ‘nighttime work’ is still on the table—.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Damisela slammed her cup down, “I’ll shove your face into this table, you pocket-sized tramp!”

“Is that a threat or a promise?”

“In your nightmares, runt.” She gulped down the last of her cacao, and then gave him a curious look. “You seem satisfied with yourself. Even more than usual. Where were you last night?”

Before Juan could come up with an answer, the door to the inn burst open with a loud crack. Juan only needed to turn and look for a split second before he jumped behind Damisela. “Shit!”

“I see you, whore!”

“What the fuck did you do!?” Analisa growled at him before standing up with the rest of them to block him from view. “Good day to you, madam, how can we help you?”

“You can hand that fucking Isla boy over to me,” the local blacksmith growled as the other patrons of the inn turned to watch the scene unfold, “or you can get out of my way! I have a bone to pick with him!”

Juan peeked out from behind Damisela. “What sort of bone?”

Everyone glared at him.

“Force of habit.” He slunk back.

Catalina turned back to the woman. “I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. I apologize if my companion has caused you any inconvenience.”

“He’s yours, is he? Figures.” The blacksmith looked her up and down. “Just who do you think you are bringing a menace like that around here!?”

“Catalina Milagros Latoya Araceli Leyte Zapata,” she introduced herself with her full noble name, bowing her head once she was finished. “At your service, madam.”

The blacksmith blinked for a moment before shaking her head. “I don’t care how many names you have! If you don’t hand that whore over to me, I’m reporting your whole lot to the garrison!”

At that moment, the woman reached behind herself, and… came back with a massive hammer. Where the fuck had she been carrying that?

“What exactly did he do?” Damisela asked. But, the tone of her voice indicated that she had some idea.

“My son and daughter! I walked into my forge this morning to find him,” she jabbed the giant hammer in his direction, “engaged in indecent acts with both of them! Simultaneously!”

“To be quite fair,” Juan pointed a finger up from behind Damisela, “the simultaneous thing was their idea.”

“I’ll have you flayed!” She tried to jump at him, but Damisela and Analisa pushed her back. “My children were pure of heart and body! You corrupted them!”

They hadn’t seemed very ‘pure’ when Juan had been with them, but he chose to keep that thought to himself.

Filomeno looked back at him and mumbled, “‘Sword polished’, you say?”

“And, they polished it very thoroughly,” Juan smirked back.

“Of course.” Filomeno turned to Analisa. “You could show her your ring.”

“I’m not going to show my ring every time Juan deflowers a virgin.” She returned her attention to the blacksmith. “Is there any way that we can resolve this peacefully?”

“No!” The woman growled, “I am owed retribution for the shattered virtues of my children!”

“You’ll really have to excuse him, madam,” Catalina told her. “He is an Isla boy, after all. You know how they are…”

Juan rolled his eyes at that. He really didn’t understand why mainlanders always got their undergarments in a twist over a perfectly healthy bit of sexual exploration. It was part of the reason why he enjoyed ‘sharing’ the less-repressive culture of the Isla Del Mar with them, to show them what their ridiculous values of ‘purity’ had them missing out on. Unfortunately, the pursuit of pleasure always came with just as many risks as it did rewards. This was hardly the first time he’d crossed an overprotective guardian.

At least this one didn’t seem to own several armies. The last pair of twins he’d bedded had been the grandson and granddaughter of Princess Aida of Quianor, and their uncle had not been happy with Juan, and had made it very clear what happened to those who crossed the Maelstrom Islanders.

Actually, part of Prince Amadi’s unhappiness had probably been because the band had been hired to steal that antique diadem that he’d been hoarding. But, walking in right as Juan had been filling his niece’s volcano with white lava surely hadn’t earned them any favors.

“I will not be excusing shit!” The blacksmith hissed. “And, shame on you for defending that vagrant’s vile actions! You people are all the same!”

Uh oh…

“Excuse you…?” Damisela crossed her massive arms slowly. “Who is ‘you people’…?”

“You outlanders!” The blacksmith made a cutting motion with her free hand. “Coming here to corrupt the good, pious people of this land with your savage ways! Who do you people think you are!?”

“We are no less pious than you, madam,” Analisa informed her. Juan noted that she hadn’t repeated the ‘good’ part. “We are the Huntress’s Arsenal.”

“I have no idea what that is.”

“We are a band of mercenaries seeking employment and adventure across the realm. We specialize in the forcible retrieval of humans, nonhumans, relics, artifacts, and then some, in that order. I am the titular Huntress,” she indicated to Filomeno, “This is my right hand, we call him Garlic Boy,” she pointed to Catalina, “You’ve already met Lady Gata, and the big one is La Damisela.” Then, she turned to Juan. “And, uh… this is—.”

“I can introduce myself, thank you very much,” he stated as he pushed past everyone.

“No,” Catalina shook her head. “Juan—!”

“Virgin’s Bane.” He smiled and bowed a little. “At your service, madam.”

“Fuck me…” Filomeno muttered as the inn erupted into gasps and whispers.

“Later,” Juan whispered before turning back to the blacksmith, who was blinking quite a lot.

“…What the fuck did you say!?”

“Virgin’s Bane,” he repeated, “Otherwise known as Hymen’s Bane, Cherry Popper, Scion of the Member State, the Vagabond of Heredia, Puerto Fajardo’s Most Popular Export, Butt Boy, Boy-Fucker, Girl-Fucker—my brother calls me that one—Cocksucker, Pussylicker, Assgrabber, Whore, and my personal favorite, That Fucking Isla Boy.” He beamed. “Among others.”

The inn was quiet as the blacksmith continued to stare at him in silence for several more moments. Then, she started to lift her giant hammer, and—.

Oh boy…

“I’ll have your head!” She howled as she brought the weapon down onto the floor where he had been standing. “Both of them! The law of the Tierra Del Fuego states that the parent of a wronged child is allowed to extract a pound of flesh from the culprit! And, I know precisely which pound I intend to extract…!”

Damisela muttered as Juan retreated back behind her, “If it even weighs that much…”

“Hey!” Juan complained.

“Yeah. Either way, that won’t do at all,” Analisa sighed. She turned to the others, “Fe Justa?”

“Too risky,” Catalina shook her head.

“Reina Roana?” Analisa asked.

“Lago or Río?” Catalina followed up.

“Lago.”

“No. Too messy,” Filomeno countered.

“I will no longer entertain any of you bastards!” The blacksmith shouted, “If you wish to stand by your whore, then you can pay for his crimes with him!”

She lifted her hammer and brought it down onto the floor again, but this time the immediate result was a yowl from under the table. Just then, Otoronco scampered out, attempting to growl up at the woman before releasing another high-pitched yowl.

“Is that a fucking jaguar?”

Suddenly, the question was answered by a very loud roar. Itzel stalked out from under the table, and the other patrons screamed and shouted as the black jaguar roared again, many running for the door or the stairs, and even some jumping out of the windows.

“That does it!” The blacksmith announced, “You people have terrorized this village for the first and last time! I’m calling the garrison, and when they get here, they’ll send you to the dungeon to be with the rest of your ilk! Far less than what you savages deserve!”

Juan turned to Analisa, who now had a… mysterious smile adorning her face.

“…Bulevar San Donato.”

“Not Bulevar San Donato…” Damisela sagged in front of Juan.

“Bulevar San Donato,” Analisa repeated.

Damisela groaned, then looked over her shoulder to glare at Juan, and he gave her a smile back.

“You owe me a drink, short-stack,” Damisela told him. Then, she turned, let out a roar, and tackled the blacksmith to the ground while the rest of them scattered in every direction.

***(The Camino De Rosetas, the Valle De Obsidiana, several hours later)***

Juan fell back as Analisa pinned him to the seat. She swung one leg up to corner his left thigh and then another to corner his right, straddling his lap as he took in her voluptuous figure. His eyes roamed up the shape of her waistline, past her stomach, and wound up entranced for several moments on the exposed swell of her rounded bosoms. They were still wet from the rain, and Juan watched as a single droplet glided down the side of one cacao-colored hill before disappearing into the valley between.

A sigh from above him had citrus-scented breath filling Juan’s nostrils, and his eyes proceeded upward past the curve of her neck until they alighted on the face of his comely commander. Analisa’s wet kinky curls were accentuated and shimmering, framing a gorgeous face of bright half-lidded eyes, a prominent and shapely nose, and full, shining lips. The lips breathed citrus into his nostrils again, and from the corner of his vision, he spotted a mahogany-shaded hand reaching out with smooth and elegant fingers towards his face—.

And, slapping him.

Juan massaged his jaw as he looked her up and down. “I know for a fact you can hit harder than that.”

“And, that is precisely why I won’t, brat.”

They rolled over a bump in the road, and Analisa chose that moment to disappoint Juan by removing herself from his lap, backing away and seating herself on the other side of the wagon between Filomeno and Catalina, who shared equal glares in his direction.

Catalina gave him a disapproving shake of her head. “What is wrong with you? Genuinely, what the fuck is wrong with you? Why can we not take you anywhere without you finding trouble?”

Juan shrugged. “I would argue that it’s trouble which finds me. Trouble is an insatiable seducer, and I just happen to be one of their favorite lovers.”

Before anyone could respond, the wagon rolled over another bump, this one so large that it almost threw everyone to the floor. Itzel and Otoronco growled and yowled respectively from beneath Juan’s seat, having been interrupted from their daily catnap.

“Bitch!” Catalina righted herself, then slid to the front of the wagon to open the little door to the driver’s seat. “Are you trying to get us killed!?”

“You come up here and try to navigate these roads!” Damisela shot back, “This place looks like as much of a wasteland as the literal wasteland we just escaped from. What does this cousin of yours spend his tax money on? New curtains? Sculptures? Gilded chamberpots?”

“Dami, I love you, but for the sake of all things holy, please, less whining, less moaning, and most crucially, less driving like a madwoman!”

“Choke on a hairball, pussycat,” Damisela grumbled as Catalina slammed the door.

“Returning to the matter at hand,” Filomeno sighed, “Juan… you are becoming a problem.”

“He already has been a problem,” Catalina argued as the jaguars settled back down.

“Regardless, we can’t keep getting chased out of every region in the realm because of your ‘habits’. We’re mercenaries,” Filomeno explained, “Our advertisement is that we stop trouble, not cause it.”

“Not necessarily,” Juan countered, “We’ve been paid to cause trouble many times. Remember that amethyst idol that used to be in the possession of one Admiral Rincón—?”

“Carla Rincón was a brigand,” Catalina stated. “That is not the same thing.”

Just then, Damisela opened the door again to peak in with her own glare for Juan. “And, let’s not forget that while the rest of us were busy fighting Mami and her thugs, pint-size over here was sucking little Carlomagno’s cock.”

“But, I got the idol, didn’t I?” Juan clarified as she slammed the door back. Little Commander Carlomagno had proven quite helpful once Juan had shown him a way to relieve his pent-up energy that didn’t involve his mother’s extortion operation. And, he had been pretty decent at it too. Maybe Juan should write to him sometime…

“Be that as it may, it changes nothing.” Catalina jabbed a finger at him, “Your ‘urges’ are incredibly bad for business, and if you do not start controlling them, then once we get to Costa Jaguar, I am personally tossing you onto the next ship to Puerto Fajardo.”

Juan barely suppressed an eye-roll at that. Mainlanders and their repressive values of ‘purity’—that was why they were in this situation in the first place. After Juan’s ‘incident’ with the blacksmith—and her very amorous son and daughter—they’d been forced to flee before the full force of the local military was brought down on their heads. Now, here they were traveling on this bumpy road west to seek shelter with Catalina’s cousin, the Lord Zapata of Costa Jaguar.

“I cannot help it when someone is attracted to me. Just like I cannot help it when I am attracted to them back. I have needs.” He directed his next statement at Analisa, “And, if my needs make me such a troublemaker, then you may as well spank me again, because this is a need that cannot be controlled.”

Analisa gave him a dull stare. “It was a slap. Not a spank.”

Juan gave her a coy smile in return. “Why, my luscious leader… my sensuous sovereign… a slap is just a spank on the upper cheek.”

Catalina pounced at him, and Juan was barely rescued by Analisa and Filomeno holding her back. “Let me at him! I want his head!”

“…Which head?”

“I want you dead!” Catalina hissed as the jaguars growled and yowled at her.

“Lina,” Analisa planted her back in her seat, “Calm yourself, my love.”

“I will feast on his innards…” she grumbled as Otoronco scampered out and jumped into her lap.

“That’s not you talking, Lina.” Analisa stroked her arm, “Inhale, exhale…”

Catalina started breathing in and out, and Analisa continued to stroke her arm, whispering in her ear with those full lips. Juan couldn’t help imagining her citrus breath hitting the other girl’s ear, and then moving those full lips closer and closer until they touched the other girl’s neck, and—.

And now, his trousers were crowded again. Wonderful. Maybe he really did have a problem…

Juan discreetly placed his hands over said problem just in time for Catalina to regain herself. She nodded to herself, and then fixed Juan with a refined and imperious stare before turning away, focusing on petting the cub in her lap as if nothing had ever happened. “You are a tramp. Put a leash on your boy, Filomeno.”

“Wh—?” Filomeno’s palish cheeks reddened at that, “He’s not ‘my’ boy.”

“I wouldn’t say no to the leash, though…”

“Shut up, Juan—!”

Suddenly, all of them were rocked from their seats again, but this time because the wagon had come to a complete halt.

“The fuck?” Analisa crawled over Catalina to open the driver’s door again, “Why did we stop?”

“Uh,” Damisela called back, “about that—.”

Just then, light poured in, and everyone turned as the ramp-door at the back of the wagon was pulled down. Several cloaked men and women with the sharp and still postures of knights were flanking the door, and for just a moment, Juan worried that they’d been caught. But, that was before he realized as he noticed the shape of their shining helmets beneath the hoods… he recognized these knights. And then, a shorter cloaked figure approached the wagon, this one with a more polite and refined posture of nobility, stopping only briefly to throw back his hood.

Juan and the others—Analisa most of all—stared in surprise at the familiar figure. He was a young man around Juan’s age with a physical appearance slightly similar to the girls, possessing darkish skin and kinky-curly hair that drooped a little over bright yellow eyes. Beneath his cloak, Juan spotted garb that could only belong to someone from the highest pillars of society and a witch’s wand that hung at the side of an opulent belt.

The man’s gaze stopped on Analisa, and met her with a sweet grin, “You’re a hard woman to find, wife.”

“Amo!?”

“Yeah. That’s why we stopped,” Damisela explained as Catalina helped her squeeze her big ass through the little driver’s door.

“What are you doing all the way out here!?” Analisa demanded.

“Searching for you. A task in which I have succeeded. Oh,” Amaranto smiled down as the orange ball of fluff that was Otoronco scampered out to greet him with Itzel close behind, “Hello, kitties.” He looked up and nodded at the rest of them, “And, hello to the rest of you, Arsenal.” Then, his eyes met Juan’s and greeted him with a shier smile, “Virgin’s Bane…”

“Your Grace,” Juan nodded back with a smirk.

“Beloved,” Analisa stood and approached her very pretty husband, taking his hand in hers, “I am pleased to see you, truly, but you cannot be out here. It isn’t safe.”

“Why? Are you running from something again? You were riding pretty fast…”

Then as if on cue, the sound of thundering hooves echoed throughout the valley. Itzel growled, and Juan spotted the culprits up ahead riding fast in their direction.

“Ah. So, I was correct then.” Amaranto made a gesture, and the cloaked knights formed up.

“Amo, don’t—!”

“Halt where you are!” Amaranto called out, “What business have you here, soldiers?”

The opposing knight in command dismounted. Immediately, Juan noticed something familiar in the man’s face, but he couldn’t place his finger on it… “Hunting outlaws. The same ones that you now appear to be sheltering, milord.”

“I’m afraid you are mistaken,” Amaranto stated, “There are no outlaws here.”

“I’m afraid I must beg to differ.”

Just then, Otoronco yowled, and it took Juan only a moment to realize why. Pushing her way through the crowd, up came none other than the blacksmith with a clear glint of hate in her eye. She stood directly beside the knight, and that was when Juan was struck by the similarity in their features.

Oh fuck. They were related. Well, that explained why they seemed intent on chasing them halfway across the continent. Apparently, when Juan had surmised that the blacksmith didn’t own any armies, he hadn’t been entirely correct.

“There,” the blacksmith pointed at Juan, “That’s him. That’s the one.”

“You there, Isla boy,” the knight called, “You have defiled my niece and nephew, and my sister is owed a pound of flesh in recompense.”

“How many times must I clarify that I defiled no one?” Juan whined, “If anything, those libertines defiled me. I was sore in places you can’t even envision.”

The blacksmith roared while her brother held her back. Meanwhile, Amaranto was giggling boyishly. “You haven’t changed a bit, Juan.”

Once his sister had calmed down, the knight addressed Amaranto again, “I must respectfully ask you to step aside, milord, so that we can apprehend this fugitive and his collaborators.”

“I’m afraid I cannot allow that. One of those collaborators is my lady wife.”

“Wife?” The blacksmith looked up at Catalina.

Catalina shook her head. “Don’t look at me.”

The blacksmith then noticed Analisa standing close to her husband, and her features then shifted into that of annoyance, “Not another of you hundred-named fuckers…”

“I’m afraid I must disappoint you in confirming that, madam,” Amaranto nodded, “My name is Amaranto Marcelo Anastasio Maximiliano Peña Almánzar de Reyes.”

The pale faces of the brother and sister turned paler at the introduction. “De what?”

Amaranto made another gesture, and his own knights dropped their cloaks to reveal the shimmering golden armor and cat-headed helmets of the Imperial Royal Guard.

“You heard me correctly. I am Prince Amaranto Peña Reyes, Ravarra’s future King-Emperor Consort. And, the woman whose companion you antagonize is our future Queen and Empress.”

After that, it was a simple matter to scare off their pursuers. Though the blacksmith and the knight were clearly unhappy, they had no choice but to leave the band and their new protectors in peace. After all, making an enemy of the great-granddaughter of the Emperor and third in line to the Imperial Throne was hardly an advisable choice in life.

Once they were safe to travel without the threat of danger at their backs, the Imperial Guard escorted them as they continued on their way to Costa Jaguar, and Amaranto joined the rest of the Arsenal in the wagon to converse.

Amaranto sat between Juan and Analisa, and beamed at them all as Otoronco jumped into his lap and started nibbling on his fingers. “Well, that was fun.”

“That was risky,” Analisa countered, “We shouldn’t be causing that much of a ruckus up here. If word gets out that the Huntress’s Arsenal is actually a Princess and her retinue, it will inevitably attract all the wrong sorts of attention.”

“The heiress to the Empire can only go adventuring for so long before attracting attention. Oh, hello,” Amaranto smiled again as Itzel placed her massive paws on his knees and stared into his eyes. She started licking his face, and then she opened her massive black jaws as if to engulf his head. Amaranto stared up at the scene in fright. “Umm…?”

Catalina smacked the big black cat from behind, earning a roar in response. “Knock it off!” She smacked her again, and Itzel finally got the message, retreating back under the seats with one last growl. “Forgive her,” Catalina apologized, “That is how she shows affection.”

“Ah, I see,” he nodded, continuing to pet the rosetted cub in his lap.

Analisa gave him a curious look. “You still have yet to explain why you were searching for me, husband.”

“Oh, yes, of course. I have a message for you. For all of you, actually. From the Emperor.”

Oh shit. Analisa was one thing, but all of them? What would he—the King of Ravarra and Emperor of Acueria—want with the Huntress’s Arsenal?

“This had better not be another attempt to drag me home,” Analisa grumbled.

“It is not. In fact, he wanted me to say that he has accepted your quest for adventure, as long as you are being safe,” he smiled. “He says that you proved yourself to him when you exposed the Inquisition.”

“He had a funny way of showing it in the moment…”

Juan had to agree, though he’d never say that aloud. The Imperial Inquisition had been, as Catalina put it, a blight on the good name of the Kingdom-Empire, not fit to share the name of the Eastern Inquisition that had hunted down escaped slavers after the Selvaran Slave Uprising. Putting a stop to this false Inquisition had basically been the founding purpose of the Huntress’s Arsenal, what had brought them all together, and in that purpose, they had succeeded.

But, that was a long time ago now. And in the time since then, the Arsenal hadn’t been treated like anything but rogues and runaways until this very moment.

“Well, he recognizes your valor now. But anyway, I’ve actually come bearing a proposal,” Amaranto beamed again, “He has a mission offer for you.”

Everyone stared at him in silence.

“A proper mission, he wanted me to clarify,” he continued, “No special treatment for the future Empress. It is a mission that suits your band’s skill, and you would be paid no more or less handsomely than a group of common hunters would be.”

“…Well obviously, we have to take that shit!”

“Hold on, Damisela…”

“Princess, my gorgeous beloved, your great-grandfather is the ruler of the greatest realm in the world! He’s got all the money!” Damisela started clapping her hands. “All the money in the fucking world! You were just saying we were strapped for funds, this could be our big break! We could retire to the Sunrise Palace, for Founder’s sake!”

“You’re thinking of retirement now?” Filomeno asked.

“Garlic butt, you adorable dumbass,” she put an arm around his shoulder and mimed creating an image with her hand, “I’m thinking of luxury the likes of which you’ve never dreamed.”

“Temper your expectations, Damisela.” Analisa gave her husband a suspicious look. “Something tells me that this proposal is not unconditional…”

Amaranto scratched the back of his head. “Well… you’re not incorrect. There is one.” He then appeared to fix her with a look of practiced confidence. “You may take the mission and its rewards… on the condition that you allow me to accompany you.”

“Absolutely not.”

Amaranto pouted at her, “Come now, Lisa. I can help you. I want to go on adventures too.”

“Our line of work is too dangerous,” she shook her head, “You would be much safer in the capital—where you should have stayed in the first place.”

“I can handle danger!” Amaranto insisted, “I have handled danger! You know you never could have beaten the Grand Inquisitor without me!”

“You and half of the Trinity Garrison…”

“And without me, you would’ve needed the whole of them,” he stated proudly. “Besides, you don’t have any magic users in your band, and every band of adventurers should have a magic user in it. That’s how all the stories go!”

“It is not safe.”

“That’s why you need me! That’s why the Emperor sent me to accompany you! I’m a witch trained in combat magic, not some fair virgin locked in a tower.”

Damisela banged her head against the side of the wagon. “Fuck me in the fuck-holes…”

“Why did you have to say that word?” Catalina groaned.

Juan turned to him more fully with another smirk, “Not a virgin, you say? Please, continue…”

Amaranto smiled at him, “I have told you many times before, Juan. It is a given, after all, I am a married man. Marriages are not official until they’re,” he reached over and placed a hand on Analisa’s thigh, “consummated.”

“Intriguing.” Juan mimicked a pout. “It is so unfortunate that marital vows tie you down so.”

“On the contrary, no vows are broken if the spouse consents. Isn’t that right, Lisa?”

“Leave me the absolute fuck out of this.” Analisa shook her head.

“That sounds like consent to me.” Juan slid closer to him. “Lucky, lucky me. I’ve always wanted to fuck a Prince…”

Amaranto presented a bashful smile to meet Juan’s smirk, but then Analisa tilted her head over to fix Juan with an unimpressed stare. “You have fucked three Princes in the past year alone—one of whom was my brother.”

“And, let’s not even try to count the number of Princesses…” Catalina mumbled before getting elbowed by Filomeno.

“That is hardly the same,” Juan argued, “None of them were the future Emperor Consort.”

“Right, well, before I have to hear anymore, let us return to the subject at hand.” Analisa placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder. “Amaranto, I love you, I appreciate you, but as your wife and future Queen-Empress, I cannot allow you to join the Arsenal.”

“Lisa!”

“As soon as we reach Lord Piero’s domain, you are getting on a ship, and you are headed straight back to the capital. It is for your own good, which we can all agree on, right, everyone?”

She looked around, but no one—not even the jaguars—could meet her eye.

Analisa stared at Catalina. “No. You cannot be serious.”

Catalina shrugged. “Well… it was the King-Emperor’s command, my love.”

“Right. Plus, he is a magic user. We could use a proper healer,” Filomeno concurred.

“And, a witch! Not a grunt from one of those posey churches. A proper adherent of the right and true Church of Our Lord of Dark, just as God intended!” Damisela clapped again. “Besides, you’re supposed to be the Huntress, gorgeous, shouldn’t you be keeping your Prey here close at hand?”

“Huh,” Amaranto looked up in a contemplative manner, “‘Prey’… I like that.”

“As do I,” Juan agreed, “Prey that has multiple predators.”

Amaranto giggled again. Then, he turned back and fixed Analisa with pleading eyes. Analisa gave her husband a glare, and one for the rest of them as well, before addressing him once again.

Then, she lifted a single elegant finger. “One job.”

Everyone cheered.

“Settle,” Analisa ordered. “Tell me about this job before I change my mind. What does it entail?”

“Relics, ruins, and lots of history!” Amaranto pulled a couple of scrolls from his cloak and showed them to everyone. “Who here has ever heard the name, ‘Las Entrañas’…?”

***(Present Day)***

“Yes, yes,” the Arch Sorceress nods as you return, “You understood correctly, my curious friend. Ravarra was once an Empire. A time of expansion and growth through negotiation… or through conquest. In Juan’s time, it was known as the Kingdom-Empire of Ravarra, Acueria, and the Maelstrom Isles, but that name would evolve as the Empire continuously expanded, and in that time and today, it was and is more-commonly known by a much simpler, more poetic name. Imperial Ravarra. Though it may sound like a great revelation at first, it was in truth a relatively-minor event within the overarching period in history.”

She turns to the crackling fire, her bright gray eyes reflecting and encompassing the flickering orange light.

“I chose this moment specifically to show to you because it is perhaps the lightest moment in the darkest time of our past. The hundred-year reign of Analisa’s great-grandfather, Emperor Angel the Herald, was as close to peaceful as the realm had seen and would see in a long time, and as you could probably tell, even that point was far from our standards of ‘peaceful’. After his abdication, Analisa would eventually succeed him, quite predictably, as Empress Analisa the Huntress, and Juan and the Arsenal would remain by her side for the rest of their lives… But, their lives would never know peace again, as her reign would be framed by war against an evil that had been lying in wait for a long, long time. An evil that had preceded them, and an evil that would succeed them… for they were merely a few small specks of light at the heart of a millennium of dark.”

Her bright eyes then turn back to you and once again stare directly into your own.

“Nestled in between the golden ages of the known world, eons of unending rain and blood marked the era of the Thousand-Year Darkness. A time when peace and light were a fiction told to children to give them false hope of a better time to come. That time did come, but most did not live to see it.” The Arch Sorceress shrugs. “And, within those thousand years, Imperial Ravarra only lasted for four-hundred of them. It did not exist at the beginning of the Darkness, and it did not exist at the end of it. It was born and died within our darkest age. Just one of many things that were born and died within our darkest age… but that is a story for another time.”

Then, she visibly relaxes, and raises her wrinkled golden hands to you amiably.

“And, that is our time for today, my friend. I must return to my obligations, and you must return to yours. It was good to see you again, and I do hope that you enjoyed yourself once more.”

You go to leave, and as you do, Arch Sorceress Andrea bows her head lowly to you.

“Thank you again for joining me on this journey, my friend. I bid you farewell, and I hope that our time here has been fruitful for you. Remember to always feed your curiosity. And, remember that we all still have much to learn in a time that will span forevermore…”

With that, you leave the room, and you catch a glimpse of her turning to stare once more into the crackling fire as the door swings shut.

Chapter Text

Thunder claps outside as you stand in the middle of a large, dark room somewhere in the Founder’s Palace, illuminated only by candles on the walls to your left and right, and a crackling fire directly ahead of you. Seated next to the fireplace is the familiar figure of an elderly woman wearing gray clerical robes and the beads of a trifariam.

“My friend the Voyeur,” Arch Sorceress Andrea greets you warmly, “It is good to see you. It has been far too long since you’ve sat for one of my stories.” Thunder claps again, and the old Arch Sorceress looks briefly at the ceiling. “And, if there were ever a night for stories, it is tonight. Come and sit.”

You do as she says, crossing the room to take your place across from her next to the fire as more thunder claps.

“This weather brings to mind a special treat for the occasion,” she states as you settle in. “For many reasons that will become apparent, but I will start with one. There is a place in our world where it thunders like this continuously. At some points in time more than others, and that is where I plan to take you tonight, on the fringes of our history. For a dark night deserves a dark tale.”

The old Arch Sorceress turns, looking into the fire as the light flickers across her golden face.

“The last time we were here, I gave you a glimpse of the darkest time in our history. A time when light and life were constantly eclipsed by darkness and death,” she states, “The Thousand-Year Darkness is riddled with tales that will send you to bed shivering, and while our last story was lighthearted enough, it’s time for you to get a small taste of the tone that that era truly set for the known world.”

As if on cue, there are more thunderclaps. Her bright gray sorcerer’s eyes then turn from the flickering fire to stare directly into your own eyes and soul.

“In the time when our Kingdom was an Empire, King-Emperors and Queen-Empresses were falling over themselves to outdo their predecessors. Imperial Ravarra expanded and expanded, exerting its influence far and wide until it became too much to bear. I will not show you when it became too much to bear, as it is not yet time for that tale, but I can show you a point when the cracks began to form,” she explains, “Though its obsessors in the present day like to frame it as a time when Ravarra alone proved supreme above all others, the truth is that it never would have reached the heights that it did if not for the support of its most fervent allies. One of them, you’ve heard by name a time or two. One of the first to join Ravarra’s Empire upon its creation. The city-state of Quianor and the Isles of the Maelstrom Sea.”

The Arch Sorceress flashes her wand, and then a map appears between you of the aforementioned Maelstrom Sea. It is nestled directly between the western halves of this continent and the next, the Páramo Salvaje to its south and Quirnon to its north. It is bordered to its right by the expansive and unreachable Selva Salvaje, which separates the eastern halves of the continents, and to its left sits the greater waters of the Mar Salvaje.

The Maelstrom Isles themselves that dot their namesake-sea are separated into three archipelagos that each encompass dozens of named islands. The Nahsu Archipelago sits in the west, the Okinebe Archipelago in the east, and the Quianorn Archipelago in the center.

The Arch Sorceress uses her wand to point out a sizable island in the Okinebe Archipelago, to the west of the central island of Okineb. “Our story begins here on the isle of Bakari. Bakari’s famous shipyards made it a very valued asset to Ravarra’s conquests, so it is fitting that our account begins there. But, it is not the main setting of this story. Tonight, you will see what happens when our heroes sail from their post on calm Bakari to another island that couldn’t be anymore opposite.”

Her wand traces from the Okinebe Archipelago across a shipping lane named the Okinebe Causeway until it reaches the Quianorn Archipelago, tracing northeast of the central Quianor Island until it reaches a dark shore named Hudu.

Thunder claps once again as the old woman’s eyes lock with yours. “Tonight, you will begin to see why the isle of Hudu is infamously known throughout the world as ‘the Haunted Isle’.”

The map flies away, and the Arch Sorceress sheathes her wand. Then, she reaches up, and points a finger towards your face.

“You know the rules. No emotions, no attachments. Especially for a story like this. Now, relax and pay close attention.”

With that and another clap of thunder, the finger touches your forehead, and your mind is transported to that of another, long in the past…

***(Bakari Island in the Maelstrom Sea, vassal state of Imperial Ravarra, 1157 CR)***

“It’s going to rain soon,” Antonio noted, watching the dark clouds overhead. 

“When doesn’t it rain?” Danilo quipped. 

“When it storms,” Quiara responded. “Savor it while you can, boys. This is the last moment of calm we’re going to see for a long while.”

Antonio sighed. “If this is what ‘calm’ looks like, I’m not looking forward to whatever awaits us on Hudu.”

“Seconded.”

“Thirded,” Danilo agreed. “Which isle is that again?”

“The Haunted Isle,” Quiara answered. 

“Ah, right. Lovely.” Danilo nodded, a slight grin of amusement rising on his face. “Gotta love these Maelstrom Islanders. They always come up with the most poetic names.”

“Poetic and literal,” she warned him. “From what I gather, there will be surprises awaiting us around every corner on Hudu, and none of them will be the fun kind. We’ll have to stay on guard at all times. Watch each other’s backs.”

“That should be easy,” Antonio noted, “Since we’re going with an army at our backs.”

He looked back down and watched as the last columns of soldiers marched onto their warship. One-hundred members of the Empire’s military were gathered on deck, standing as a physical representation of their dominion’s reach. There were native Reinos like Antonio and Quiara, local conversos from the Maelstrom Isles, conversos like Danilo from the distant Islas Reinas, and many, many more—a rainbow of faces from all across the ever-expanding Imperial Ravarra. 

Upon her coronation two years ago, Empress Venecia the Magnificent had created a mandate that the soldiers of the Empire be transferred to different stations periodically instead of remaining in their own homelands as had been done previously. The goal was for them to experience firsthand the diversity of their perfect realm, to foster a sense of unity and oneness under their shared banner, and in so doing, to keep the various vassals happy, prosperous, and ultimately loyal to the Empire… and to keep them from doing anything ‘drastic’ such as inciting rebellions or lobbying for independence. It was all part of the Empress’s intricate plan to grow and strengthen their dominion in a campaign that she dubbed ‘the Magnificence’, from whence she got her epithet.

The Maelstrom was Antonio’s first post since leaving the Imperial Palace. Following the Great Conquest, Empress Venecia’s predecessor, Empress Valencia the Great, had showered the glory of the Kingdom-Empire upon its most loyal vassals, none of which had proven as staunch in their loyalty as the Maelstrom Isles. Prince Elias, the Nomarch of Quianor—the Maelstrom’s sole city-state—had been granted a wide range of new titles, the highest of which being ‘Great King of the Maelstrom’. Great King Elias had then trickled that glory down to the individual isles, reviving their ancient Kingdoms that the Kingdom of Quirnon had previously relegated to simpler Paramount Chiefdoms. After all, there could only be one King per Kingdom, and only nomarchial city-states could be Quirnosi Principalities. But, the Maelstrom didn’t belong to Quirnon anymore, and unlike Kingdoms, Empires were a different story.

Seeking for him to bask in the Maelstrom’s rising glory, Antonio’s father had called in a favor with King Bonkoro of Bakari to get Antonio this posting so that he could gain valuable military experience, broaden his cultural horizons, and perhaps even meet a Maelstrom Princess or two to make him start considering his family legacy. What better place to meet his future wife than in a tri-archipelagic paradise where every island housed amorous Princesses?

But as amorous as the Princesses were, it turned out that only some of the Maelstrom Isles could be considered ‘paradises’. Bakari was one.

Hudu was not. 

He was pulled from his thoughts when a droplet hit his nose, drawing his attention back to the clouds. “Rain’s starting. We should get going.”

“Indeed,” Quiara agreed, “Someone should tell her.”

“Don’t look at me.” Danilo shook his head. “You know she hates interruptions.”

“Someone has to,” Quiara stated.

“Well in that case, I nominate Toño.”

Antonio made a face at him. “I nominate you, Dani. You’re her favorite.”

“No, you’re her favorite,” Danilo argued, adopting a smirk. “And, you’re the least likely to get scolded, Princeling.”

Antonio rolled his eyes at him, but their concerns were proven unnecessary when the door to the captain’s cabin creaked open behind them. 

The three of them turned to salute the stern-faced elder woman as she emerged from the cabin. She regarded them with a curt nod. “Rain’s starting. Get ready to clear out.”

“Yes, General,” they answered simultaneously. 

General Roana Fajardo was the knight in charge of the Bakari Imperial Garrison, and the woman to whom the three of them squired. Unlike the squires, General Fajardo’s noble blood hadn’t earned her command of this post—she had earned it entirely due to her own merit, which was probably why she had been chosen for this assignment over any of the garrison commanders closer to Hudu. She had a reputation for defeating people in battle. Time would tell if she gained a reputation for defeating monsters as well. 

The General stood at the railing overlooking the deck, stomping her foot loudly into the wood. Once the one-hundred Imperial soldiers all stood at attention, she walked over to the stairs.

“By order of Grand Admiral Nieves, Imperial Viceroy of the Maelstrom, we have been tasked with reinforcing the garrison on the isle of Hudu.” She descended the stairs as she spoke. “Several days ago, the Viceroy began to receive concerning correspondence from General Enrico Guzman regarding a number of unexplained disappearances, and subsequent communication with the Queen of Hudu confirmed similar reports from her people as well. Now, the commander, the Queen, and all other communications with Hudu have gone silent.” Once she reached the deck, she stopped at the head of the contingent to finish her address. “Whether this is the result of the local bestiary acting up or a plot by anti-Imperial insurgents, we must do whatever is necessary to ensure the safety of Hudu and its people.”

Antonio heard the unspoken portion of her speech in his head. Alongside Acueria, the Maelstrom was Imperial Ravarra’s oldest vassal, the first they’d acquired centuries ago when Empress Urraca the Revenant had turned her Kingdom into an Empire. Acueria may have beat the Maelstrom in size, but the Maelstrom beat Acueria in staunchness. They had been key to the Empire’s later conquests, and to keeping the other, ‘less-enthusiastic’ vassal states in line.

Losing even one isle meant losing them all, and losing the Maelstrom would not be good for anyone. 

“We’ve timed this journey for when the Causeway waters are at their calmest, making the voyage from Bakari to Hudu as safe as possible,” the General explained, “Once we disembark, we will make our way inland to convene with the garrison and the Hudulese Queen in the island’s capital of Ghost Town.”

Danilo snorted. “I love the Maelstrom Isles.” Antonio elbowed him to shut him up. 

“We have no clue what sort of welcome awaits us,” the General concluded, “So, be prepared for anything. Settle in. We set sail within the hour.” She stood straight and saluted. “Glōria Imperiī.”

“Glōria Imperiī!” Antonio recited alongside them all. 

“Move out.”

***(The Okinebe Causeway shipping lane, one league out from Hudu)***

The squires were sitting in their shared cabin when the ship hit a wave, sending Danilo tumbling into Antonio’s side, his cup of rum sloshing dangerously in his hand. “‘Safe voyage,’ she says…”

“‘As safe as possible,’” Quiara quoted from Antonio’s other side. “The Maelstrom Sea is never a ‘safe’ water to sail. That’s how it earned its name.”

“Thank God and magic for the shipping lanes,” Antonio said before another wave jostled them. “What do you suppose awaits us once we make landfall?”

“Something ominous. And, evil. I honestly hope it’s a monster,” Quiara admitted. “If it’s insurgents, people disappearing is especially worrisome. They could be getting sold off to Pentozi slavers. I would rather be eaten by a monster than sold to slavers.”

Antonio agreed. Because that was a genuine concern.

The Maelstrom Isles hadn’t sworn fealty to Ravarra on a whim. Their loyalty had been earned during the period known to history as the Great Quianorn Revolution. Before the founding of the Empire, the isles had been taken from Quirnon by the Principality of Pentoz, ruled with an iron fist as a slave-driving Pentozi Exarchate.

As the story went, an infant Prince Angel—the future Herald Emperor—had prophesied to Queen Urraca the Revenant that Acueria and the Maelstrom Isles would be key to Ravarra’s survival. And so, Ravarra banded with the fledgling revolutions, the Armayans were driven from Acueria, and the Pentozi were driven from the Maelstrom Sea. That was how the Queen became an Empress. And over the centuries, the prophecy was proven true many times over.

But, the Pentozi never forgot the humiliation of losing their precious Exarchate. And with Tarres and Corion now under Reinos rule, and Viceroy Nieves pouring support into the Shurylian Revolution, the remaining city-states were surely itching for a chance to retaliate.

“Either way, the three of us are completely doomed,” Danilo stated, “One thing monsters and slavers have in common—a love of pretty things. No monster or slaver could ever resist our gorgeous faces.”

“Ugh,” Quiara groaned, rolling her eyes. “Here we go…”

Danilo smirked at her flirtatiously. “Don’t be embarrassed by the facts, Quiqui. With looks like yours, any monstrosity or demon or ghost or whatever would be smitten with you at first sight. Just as we were.”

“You’re impossible.” She shook her head. “You should have been a courtesan instead of a squire.”

“On that, we completely agree. I’ve certainly got the ‘skills’ for it. Care for another demonstration?”

“You’re lascivious, Danilo,” Antonio muttered. 

“You’re bashful, Princeling.” He twisted a lock of Antonio’s curls around his finger. “Has it gotten hotter in here or is that a blush in your cheeks?”

Antonio snorted and shoved him away. “Piss off.”

Danilo chuckled while he sipped his rum. “You Reinos people are so easy.”

He was ridiculous. But, Antonio couldn’t deny that his antics weren’t calming in situations like these. Even in the tensest moments, Danilo could find humor in anything, which was indicative of the inherent playfulness of his culture.

He was from the southern Islas Reinas—natively called ‘the Sunset Isles’—and was the son of Dalia Quizon, the liege lady of the island that had recently been renamed ‘Isla Emperatriz Analisa’. Lady Dalia had been one of the first Sunset Islanders to abandon Armayan rule and swear fealty to Ravarra during the Great Conquest, and one of the first to convert to the Reinos Doctrine.

If that wasn’t enough to inflame his confidence, Danilo also knew that he was handsome to an unfair degree, with his straight black hair, olive skin, and almond-shaped eyes. He was caring and courageous, and one of the best people Antonio had ever met. When he wasn’t flirting with anything that moved. 

But, his jesting flirtations hadn’t been untrue when he was describing Quiara, as she was also unfairly gorgeous. Her skin was dark like ebony, and she wore her hair in intricate liberty braids tied behind her head in a tail.

She was a member of House Delgado, from one of the bloodline’s ’browner branches’. It was unfortunately common for the noble Houses of the Tierra De Arena to pretend that they were fully northern, despite their history with and proximity to the east, but Quiara was under no such delusions. She wore her Selvaran ancestry with pride, which was easy to do in the Maelstrom Isles—whenever they walked amongst the locals of the Maelstrom, she would nearly blend in with the crowd if it weren’t for her Reinos armor. 

As for Antonio himself, in typical Reyes fashion, his father was a bubbling cauldron of mixed ancestries, but his mother was from the eastern House Jurado, so his features and Quiara’s were similar. People told him that he was attractive, with his bronze skin and curly hair, but he was fairly certain that much of the people he attracted were at least partly interested in his title. Like Danilo said, he was a Princeling… in title only. He wasn’t anyone important. Unless being thirty-seventh in line for the Imperial Throne was important. Or was it thirty-eighth? He was collateral, nothing more and nothing less. 

He had little value as a member of House Reyes, but the words of House Jurado were ‘a matter of honor’. From his mother, he came from a long line of warriors, from the maroons and guerrillas of the Selvaran Slave Uprising to the knights and defenders of the Necromantic Wars, all fully dedicated to the protection of their people, regardless of rank or caste.

That was what had inspired Antonio to train as a knight here in the border states, to protect all of his people—Reinos, Maelstrom, Sunset, all of this Empire’s people—and find a purpose for himself beyond a useless title and a mandate to sire more collateral heirs for the Imperial Family. 

“Damn it,” Danilo suddenly exclaimed, shaking his empty cup. “That was the last of the rum.”

“You’ve had more than your fill,” Quiara told him. “Need I remind you that we’re likely going into battle?”

“I do my best battling when filled with drink. And, food.” He tossed his cup away and started to stand. “I’m going to the galley—.”

Just then, another massive wave hit the ship, knocking him back into his seat.

“Ah!” Danilo growled, “‘Safe voyage,’ I was promised. ‘Safe.’”

“Welcome to the Maelstrom,” Quiara quipped. Suddenly, there was a clapping like thunder, and her face turned serious. “Shit. Lightning. We need to make sure the ship doesn’t—.”

But then, the ship was rocked again.

CRUNCH

“What the hell…?” Antonio looked around.

“That…” Danilo spoke up, “didn’t sound like lightning…”

Again, the ship jolted.

CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH

Antonio heard more thunderous claps, now accompanied by what sounded like running footsteps and shouting coming from the deck. 

The squires shared a look, and that look was all they needed. They grabbed their swords and scrambled for the door. 

When they reached the deck, they found it in chaos.

A thick fog coated the ship, making it damn near impossible to see what was ahead of them. The thunder-like claps were coming from all around them, but there was no lightning to be seen.

Had the ship run aground? No, they were still in the water.

Soldiers were pouring onto the deck, running to and fro, shouting, some screaming… And overhead, Antonio saw strange shadows zipping by. 

And, Antonio realized that each shadow that zipped was accompanied by thunderous claps.

“Shit!” Danilo pointed his sword at the passing shapes. “What are those!? Wyverns!?”

“No.” Quiara shook her head. “Wyverns live in the Selva Salvaje.”

“That’s not that far,” Antonio noted, standing on guard. The Selva Salvaje bordered the Maelstrom Sea to the east. It was what separated the eastern halves of Continental Ravarra and Quirnon.

“They live deep—deep—in the jungle, Toño, that’s why trolls are the east’s primary menace,” she explained, “There shouldn’t be wyverns in the middle of the Maelstrom Sea…”

Suddenly, they spotted one of the soldiers sprinting straight towards them, and when the fog had cleared enough, Antonio recognized her.

General Fajardo. 

“SQUIRES!!! TO ARMS!!!”

She skidded to a halt in front of them, turning on her heel and pointing her sword at a thundering shadow descending from the sky. 

SHRIEK

…That was not a wyvern.

Antonio gasped as a strange and horrifying creature appeared out of the mist.

It had leathery skin, enormous bat-like wings, bird-like talons, and an elongated beak bristling with jagged teeth. 

Its wings flapped, emanating the thunder-like sound, and its massive beak stretched wide as it dove for them.

But, the General rolled beneath it, stabbing up into its underbelly.

SHRIEK

Its blood sprayed across the deck, and the squires jumped back as it landed in front of them with a thunk, dead on arrival. 

“Santiago!” Quiara exclaimed. “What the fuck was that!?”

“I don’t know.” The General looked back to the sky. “But, it’s not alone.”

SHRIEK

The squires followed her gaze to the other shadows zipping above their heads.

The fog was starting to clear… and with it came the sight of more of those creatures.

They were tearing through the sails and ripping chunks out of the masts with their beaks. 

A screaming soldier fell out of the crow’s nest and was immediately snatched up in one of the monsters’ beaks. More of them were diving for the soldiers on deck.

“Where did they come from!?” Antonio asked. 

“Hell if I know,” the General stated, “They appeared with the fog.”

“What was that about ‘hoping for monsters’!?”

“Danilo,” Quiara snapped, “shut up!”

SHRIEK

Just then, another one of the creatures soared towards them. 

The General raised her blade, but then the ship hit another wave and sent them all tumbling to the deck.

By sheer luck or blessing, the movement ruined the beast’s trajectory as well, its massive beak missing them all and impaling the deck with a loud crunch. While the four of them righted themselves, it shook its head violently until its beak was freed, sending wood flying everywhere. 

It eyed the General with a hiss. She raised her blade again to strike—and then another wave hit the ship, making her stumble, but Antonio managed to keep his footing.

He jumped forward onto its back and stabbed down.

SHRIEK

The creature thrashed violently for several moments before finally going limp and collapsing. 

The General helped him up while she snarled, “This is impossible! We’re ripe for the picking out here!”

“General!” Danilo pointed. “Look!”

They all turned to the starboard side of the warship, where a large, distant shadow was visible through the fog. It took Antonio only a moment to realize it was the shape of land.

“Hudu!” General Fajardo announced in plain relief. “Glōria Imperiī! We have to make landfall! We’ll beat these beasts on the ground!” She turned in the direction of the quarterdeck. “HELMSMAN, LAND—!”

But before she could give her orders, a distinctly-human shriek emanated from said deck, and then a creature flew from it… carrying the helmsman by the head.

And then with a sickening crunch, its beak separated the head from the body, dropping it into the sea. 

The four of them stared in horror for a long moment.

The General recovered fastest, pointing at her three squires. “Take the helm! I don’t care if we run aground! Get us to shore—NOW!!!” Then, she ran off, shouting out orders to the remaining soldiers.

Without hesitation, the squires rushed to obey her command, scrambling up the stairs to the quarterdeck. 

“LOOK OUT!!!” Quiara tackled Antonio on the stairs, pushing him out of the way just as a monster swooped overhead.

“AH—!” Danilo exclaimed as it grabbed his wrist in its talon. Antonio and Quiara scrambled to their feet, and Quiara rushed over, lifted her sword and sliced forward, cutting the foot clean off.

The creature wailed in pain as it soared away. Antonio ran to Danilo. “Are you alright!?”

Danilo peeled the sliced talon from his bleeding hand and tossed it away. “It’s just a scratch. Let’s go!”

The squires nodded and continued on to the quarterdeck. Antonio was the first to reach the helm, taking the wheel in his hands and eyeing their destination.

The fog was clearing up, finally revealing a view of Hudu itself, a shadowy landscape riddled with thick jungles and high mountains. 

With the help of Danilo and Quiara, he started to turn the wheel to starboard, until another set of thunderclaps brought the now-one-legged beast bearing down on them. 

SHRIEK

Quiara released the wheel and unsheathed her sword. “Keep going!” And, she charged at the diving creature. 

Together, Antonio and Danilo managed to turn the ship around until they were on a straight path towards the island.

Antonio sighed in relief. The hard part was over. Now, they just had to maintain course—. 

Suddenly, a great shadow overtook them, and Antonio looked up just in time to see a monster land right in front of them, sinking its talons into the deck. 

SHRIIIEEK

Antonio and Danilo gaped in horror.

If the other beasts were huge, this one was humongous. It stood twice—no, thrice the size of the others attacking the ship. It looked like it stood taller than three horses standing on top of each other.

Was this the genearch? It had to be, Antonio thought. The others had to be this thing’s offspring… If that were the case, it certainly didn’t look happy with them killing its babies.

The great creature hissed at the two squires, opening its beak wide as it bore down on them.

Without thinking, Antonio released the wheel, grabbed Danilo, and jumped back onto the deck just as the beak sank into the helm. 

They landed next to the one-legged lesser beast just as Quiara stabbed down and killed it. She glanced at them in confusion before looking at the helm and staring in shock. “Good… God…”

The three squires watched helplessly as the greater beast ripped out the wheel and tossed it overboard, leaving a hole in the deck where the helm had been. 

The creature eyed them and hissed again.

It began to advance, talons sinking holes into the deck with each step.

Antonio and Danilo joined Quiara in unsheathing their weapons, and the squires backed away until they were pinned to the starboard rail.

Antonio took one shaking breath in, and released it. He lifted his sword above his head, preparing to fight for their lives… 

But suddenly, a roar caught the attentions of the squires and the monster.

General Fajardo appeared on the stairs.

She charged at them with another roar and slammed herself into the monster. 

The beast stumbled, but only momentarily. It glared down at her, hissing and spreading its leathery wings menacingly.

The General took the opening. She lifted her sword and stabbed at the underbelly—.

…Only for the blade to bounce off harmlessly. 

No…

The General and her squires stared in shock. The beast was unfazed. 

It opened its beak. The General lifted her sword just in time to stop it from biting off her head… but the steel bent in the beast’s maw, and was then ripped from her hands. 

No… This was impossible… They couldn’t fight it, not like this…

They couldn’t win. 

What could they do?

The monster spread its wings again, opening its maw to strike—.

CRUNCH… CRUNCH

Just then, the squires, the General, and the monster all looked up… just in time to see the main mast breaking, falling straight down towards them.

The beast shrieked in alarm and started to flap away.

Then, the General roared again, turned on her heel, and tackled her squires, dodging the mast as it came down with a crash and sending the four of them overboard and into the sea. 

***(Hudu, the Haunted Isle)***

The first thing that Antonio heard when he started to come to was voices. Several of them… four, he counted. Three of them, he recognized. 

One of them, he didn’t. “I mean you no harm, my friend.”

“It’s been a long day, ‘my friend,’” a familiar stern voice responded, “You’ll have to forgive us for being on edge.”

Antonio tried to breathe… but something was blocking his air.

He gagged. And, gagged again. He felt himself start to choke—. 

A sudden, sharp pressure on his chest caused him to heave. He turned over and coughed, evacuating salty seawater from his lungs. 

“Toño!” Danilo’s voice called.

“Give him space,” an accented voice stated.

Antonio coughed and expelled more water. He squeezed his eyes shut as his breath returned to him. He turned back over and pushed himself up into a sitting position.

Then, he felt a hand cupping his cheek.

He opened his eyes… and was met with a face that he didn’t know. 

It was a softer face, youngish. His own age, he guessed. Ebony-skinned like Quiara, with patterned scars on his cheeks. And, hair in thick twist braids that fell into his eyes. 

The new face of the stranger smiled at him brightly. “You are well, sir knight.”

Antonio stared at him. “Wh-Who…?”

“Toño!” Quiara called. His arms were grabbed, and he looked up to see her and Danilo hauling him to his feet. 

General Fajardo was there as well, marching up to him. “Antonio. Are you alright?”

“General. Yes.” He cleared his sore throat. “I think so.”

“You had us worried, Toño,” Danilo told him. He turned to the stranger. “Thank you for saving him. And, for healing us.”

“You are most welcome.” The stranger bowed his head. “I live to serve.”

Quiara brushed what looked like sand out of Antonio’s hair. He looked around, and sure enough, they were on a beach. The ocean was behind them, thick, dark jungle was in front of them, and high, ominous mountains stood in the distance.

“Is this Hudu?” Antonio asked.

“It is,” the stranger confirmed. “Specifically, Leviathan Beach. Far from any port for good reason. You are lucky to be alive, my friends.”

“Enough,” the General snapped. She jabbed a finger in his face. “See here, little fellow, I demand answers. Starting with where everyone is.” She waved her hands at the empty landscape. “Why are you alone out here?”

“I am tracking.”

“Tracking what?”

“You will have your answers, dame knight, I assure you,” he told her. “But first, we must get to safety.”

“We’re not going anywhere with you until you tell us what’s going on here.”

While they argued, Antonio took a moment to look their new ‘friend’ over.

Antonio recognized the scars marking him as a member of the Baleppo Tribe, one of the main tribal groups of the Maelstrom Isles and the majority here on Hudu. It was said that Baleppo scarification was created in response to Pentozi slavery, so that captured tribespeople would be able to recognize one another in a foreign land.

The stranger also wore jewelry along his neck and arms, and the top half of his torso was exposed while a multi-patterned robe covered him from the midsection down. And, he carried a staff that Antonio recognized as obsidian, which meant that he was a magic user. Perhaps he was a local cleric of some sort? Had he pulled them out of the water after…? 

The ship.

Oh God, the ship.

The other soldiers.

The creatures. 

He turned to Quiara. “The ship. What happened?”

She shook her head gravely. “It’s gone.”

“…What!?”

She pointed out to sea.

Antonio turned and stared, and his heart sank when he spotted it. Flotsam and jetsam of all sizes littered the horizon. And from here, he could even see the bodies of soldiers…

All those soldiers… All those people…

How had this happened…? 

“You have my condolences, but we cannot waste another second out here. We must leave.” The stranger’s head swiveled towards the sea, his expression turning serious. He gripped his staff in both hands. “We must leave now. The kongamato are coming.”

“‘Konga’-what?” Danilo asked. 

Suddenly, familiar thunderclaps emanated from across the water. 

Antonio’s heart skipped a beat.

He turned to the sea, and in the distant fog, he spotted familiar shadows.

Several of those creatures broke through the mist, flying in a bird-like formation straight for them. And, flanking them from behind was the great genearch. 

SHRIIIEEK

Antonio reached for his sheath, but found that his sword wasn’t there.

He must have dropped it when they’d fallen overboard. He couldn’t defend them with his weapon at the bottom of the Maelstrom Sea… What were they going to do!?

But then, the stranger ran forward, and the tip of his staff crackled with energy.

He stopped at the waterline and planted his feet firmly into the sand. Antonio heard him emit a long, high whistle, and the staff’s crackling increased as it started to glow.

He raised it high… and then slammed it into the sand with an explosion of light. 

SHPEW

Antonio and the others covered their eyes.

When he could see again, he saw that the creatures had stopped advancing, and were now retreating back into the fog. 

Woah…

The stranger returned to their side. “We must get out of the open. There are far worse things on this island than kongamato.”

…Antonio needed no further convincing.

Left with little choice, the four of them followed him off of the beach until they reached the tree line of the jungle.

Once they were safe, the stranger met General Fajardo’s eye with a smile of mild smugness. “Do you believe me now, dame knight?”

The General squinted at him suspiciously, but she relaxed her posture. “Who are you?”

“Salutations to you as well.” He bowed his head. “I am Malabo. And, you are Imperials?”

“We are. I am General Roana Fajardo from the Bakari Imperial Garrison.” She indicated to the rest of them. “These are my squires—Danilo Quizon, Quiara Delgado, and Prince Antonio of House Reyes.”

Malabo’s smile brightened upon hearing Antonio’s introduction. “An Imperial Prince! I had heard that King Bonkoro kept one of you in his court. You are exactly as my mother described.”

Antonio stared in confusion. “Do I know her?”

“No, but she knows your family.” He came to stand in front of him. “She says that members of the Imperial House are the most beautiful people in the world. And, I am inclined to agree.”

Oh… That was… 

But then, Malabo leaned in, opening his mouth slightly while he eyed Antonio’s lips. 

Antonio jolted back. “What are you doing!?”

Malabo stared in confusion. “Kissing. Is this not the Imperial greeting?”

“Not on the lips!”

“Don’t leave the poor boy hanging, Princeling,” Danilo joked while Quiara practically cackled. 

Instead of embarrassment, Malabo now seemed amused as well. “Then, you were very lucky, my bashful friend. There was a moment on the beach where I worried you would need mouth-to-mouth.”

Antonio blushed furiously.

This was… This wasn’t the time for any of this! People were dying!

And, the General seemed to agree. “Enough of this. Time is of the essence. We need to speak with the Queen and General Guzman at the garrison immediately.”

“The Queen, I can do, but I’m afraid you’ve come too late,” Malabo told them. “The garrison and its general are dead.”

Antonio and the others stared in shock. 

“All of them?” Quiara asked. 

“I’m afraid so.”

No… How could that be possible?

Antonio couldn’t believe it… First the ship, and now this…

Everyone was silent for a moment. 

A dark look crossed General Fajardo’s face. She turned and marched to the edge of the tree line. “One-hundred Imperial souls lost at sea, and now an entire garrison on land… ‘Haunted Isle’, indeed.” She turned back to Malabo. “This will not stand. I will have answers as to what is happening on this damned island.”

“You had best speak to our new friend in Ghost Town,” Malabo stated. “It was them who sent me on this path. They will have the answers you seek.”

“Does it have something to do with those…” Danilo asked, “‘conga line’ monsters?”

“Kongamato,” Malabo corrected. “It means ‘breaker of boats’. They are usually isolated to rivers and swamps, but there have been… ‘extenuating circumstances’ that drove them out to sea.”

“What ‘extenuating circumstances’?” General Fajardo asked. 

Suddenly, a sound echoed through the jungle.

A loud, fast, pounding sound.

Like giant, running footsteps. 

Malabo stared in its direction. “Those ones…”

“What is that?” Quiara asked. 

“Something that doesn’t belong here.” Malabo surprised Antonio by grabbing his hand and pulling. “Come, sirs and dames. We must go.”

The General tried to argue, “Now, just a minute—!”

“You will have answers, but it’s not safe here. We’ll make for Ghost Town. My mother and our friend will explain everything.”

“Who’s your mother?”

“The one you came to see. Queen Bisila of Hudu.”

Antonio stared at him. “Wait, you’re…?”

Malabo smiled at him. “You are not the only Prince on this island. Come, there is no time to lose.”

The four of them followed him deeper into the darkness of the Hudulese jungle, retreating from the sounds of heavy, running footfalls and what Antonio thought sounded oddly like… trumpeting… 

VROOOOO…

***(Present Day, 3019 CR)***

Thunder claps loudly as you return to your own mind.

The Arch Sorceress watches the ceiling for a moment before nodding to you. “Apologies for the sudden exit, my friend. Lightning struck very close to our location, so I pulled us out to ensure our safety.” She shakes her head. “Fear not, that is actual lightning outside, not the sounds of attacking kongamato. Most likely.”

More thunder claps, even closer this time.

The Arch Sorceress looks around. “…Although, I’m afraid it means we’ll have to cut this session short. This storm is heavier than I’d expected. I must go and make sure that any damage is minimized. I suppose reaching the isle is as good a stopping point as any—but worry not,” she assures you, “Antonio’s story is not over. We can resume again tomorrow.” She looks up at the sounds of more claps. “…Perhaps somewhere further from the threat of smiting.”

You both stand, and you go to leave, and as you do, Arch Sorceress Andrea bows her head lowly to you.

“Thank you for joining me, my friend. I look forward to continuing this journey tomorrow. You will know where to find me. Until then, farewell.”

With that, you leave the room, and you catch a glimpse of her turning to stare once more at the thunderclaps from the ceiling as the door swings shut.

Chapter Text

Thunder claps in the distance as you descend the steps into the Vengeful’s Dungeons, the underground prison that sits beneath the Founder’s Palace. Chains rattle and bars ring as you pass by the occupied cells, and somewhere further in, someone screams.

You enter into a jailer’s office and find yourself standing in a large, dark room, illuminated only by candles on the walls to your left and right, and a crackling fire directly ahead of you. It is darker and danker than your usual meeting spot, but it serves its purpose nonetheless. Seated next to the fireplace is the familiar figure of an elderly woman wearing gray clerical robes and the beads of a trifariam.

“My friend, thank you for joining me again,” Arch Sorceress Andrea greets you warmly, “I hope you don’t mind the change in scenery too much. I found that this was the safest and securest location I could access.” Thunder claps again, and the old Arch Sorceress looks briefly at the ceiling. “I’ve tried to make certain that the rest of the Palace is safe from the storm, but I’d rather not take any chances. Now, come and sit.”

You do as she says, crossing the room to take your place across from her next to the fire as more thunder claps.

Another scream from further in leads the Arch Sorceress to glance in that direction. “I did not, in fact, choose this location based solely on its security,” she states as you settle in. “It is symbolically significant to our tale. We are so used to seeing the primness and properness of this structure’s upper floors,” she chuckles, “Or the scandals and trysts that happen in its dark corners, but all of those have a distinctly ‘romantic’ aura to them. A perfect façade of romance and nobility to hide this dark underbelly that lies just below.”

The old Arch Sorceress turns, looking into the fire as the light flickers across her golden face.

“It is telling that even our Queen today, known for her graciousness to the point that it has become her designation, sees fit to make use of such a gloomy institution,” she states, “No one is ever fully who they present themselves to be. It is the nature of mortality. We are rarely a perfect portrait of light or dark. Most exist within shades of gray.”

As if on cue, there are more thunderclaps. Her bright gray sorcerer’s eyes then turn from the flickering fire to stare directly into your own eyes and soul.

“Tonight, we return to the Maelstrom Isles in the time of Imperial Ravarra’s reign to continue Antonio’s story. Yesterday, we learned that a strange silence from the Haunted Isle of Hudu led the Imperial Viceroy to send our heroes with an army to investigate. When their warship was attacked by the dreaded kongamato, only the four of them made it to shore. On Hudu, they met Malabo, son of the Hudulese Queen, who guided them to safety from that which was causing all of the chaos haunting the island. Now, it is time to face the coming storm.”

She reaches up, and points a finger towards your face.

“You know the rules. No emotions, no attachments. And, be wary, for this tale is not for the faint of heart. Now, relax and pay close attention.”

With that and another clap of thunder, the finger touches your forehead, and your mind is transported to that of a familiar other, long in the past…

***(Ghost Town, capital of Hudu, the Haunted Isle, 1157 CR)***

After leaving the dangers of Leviathan Beach behind, Antonio, Danilo, Quiara, and General Fajardo followed Malabo into the interior of Hudu.

Hudu was not a small island by any means. As they traversed it, they came across several villages, outposts, and hamlets scattered throughout the jungles between the capital and the coastline.

But most concerningly, they’d found that everywhere they passed through—every village, outpost, and hamlet—had been abandoned. Not only by humans, but animals too.

It left an eerie portrait seeing places that should have been full of life with only insects to call them home… But, this all changed at nightfall, once they finally reached the capital.

Ghost Town was located at the heart of the island’s central valley—the Shadowlands, named as such because it sat in the perpetual shadows of the high mountains that surrounded it. Antonio found them to be reminiscent of the very eastern edges of Ravarra, where the thickest sections of the Selva Traviesa bordered the near-impenetrable Selva Salvaje. The jungles of the Shadowlands were similarly the thickest on Hudu, with the sky nearly invisible through the canopy of the trees, making it a safe haven from anyone—or anything—that didn’t know its terrain by heart.

Apparently, this was the strategy that the locals were depending on.

A far cry from the outer settlements, they’d reached Ghost Town to find it overcrowded with refugees. Not just from the abandoned settlements of the Shadowlands, Malabo explained, but from all over the island, even some from the coastlines.

“…And, any who have not made it to Ghost Town,” Malabo added as they walked through the packed streets, “are sheltering high in the mountains.”

Antonio looked around the street, at the various people crowding in and around the houses of thatch and timber shaded by the trees. Many of them were watching their group as they passed by, some with hopeful expressions, others with wary ones. “The people here are scared. More scared than I’ve ever seen. What is causing all this?”

“We won’t know until we speak to the Queen,” General Fajardo reminded him, giving Malabo a brief side-eye. “Since, the Prince refuses to divulge.”

“As I said, it is best to hear it from our new friend. There are details that only they can share…” Just then, he perked up when a small figure started running towards them. He opened his arms and engulfed the small child in a hug.

It was a little girl, Antonio noticed once Malabo released her, about four or five years of age, with Baleppo tribal scars marking her cheeks. They spoke to each other in what Antonio believed was the Baleppo tongue, and Malabo made gestures to Antonio and his fellows.

The girl smiled brightly, and came over to wrap her little arms around Antonio’s legs. “Knights! You come to help?”

“Yes…” Antonio glanced at the others in confusion before greeting her again. “Hello. I’m Antonio. What’s your name?”

“Ana!” She released him and reached into her dress, then surprised him by coming up with a child-sized trifariam. “I con—…” Ana struggled to find the word, “convo—…”

“You’re a conversa,” Antonio deduced.

“Yes!” Ana nodded. “I learn Reinos. No speak good. Sorry.”

“You’re speaking very good,” Antonio told her. As a multi-tribal society, multilingualism was valued in the Maelstrom Isles, just as it was on mainland Quirnon. But unlike Quirnon, the main language of wider communication wasn’t Quirnosi. As vassals of Imperial Ravarra, that role had been taken by Reinos. But, it was still impressive how much she’d learned at such a young age.

“Thank you!” She looked up at him with a wide, childlike innocence in her eyes. “You come save us? Save us from ‘it’?”

“Save you from—?”

“Ana!” An adult woman, presumably Ana’s mother, grabbed her hand and started scolding her in the Baleppo tongue. Then, she bowed her head curtly to their party. “Apologies, sirs and dames, we want no trouble.”

“We mean you no trouble, madam,” Quiara tried to tell her, “We’re only here to help—.”

“We want no trouble.” The woman pulled Ana away from them. “Apologies.”

“Glōria Imperiī!” Ana called out to them before she and her mother disappeared into one of the houses.

“What was that about?” Danilo asked.

“Ana’s mother, Dolores, worked for the garrison repairing weapons and armor,” Malabo explained, “She and some of the others worry that they will be punished for the fate of the soldiers.”

General Fajardo looked around the crowded streets. “Presuming that they’re not to blame, they should have nothing to worry about.”

“They are not to blame,” Malabo confirmed.

“If it’s all the same to you, my Prince, I will determine that for myself. But, that requires knowing exactly what is going on here on this island.”

“And, your wait is over, General.” He pointed ahead. “Everyone awaits us in the Palace.”

Antonio followed his gaze to the center of town, where the Paramount Palace of Hudu awaited them. It appeared to be made with a mix of various native and Reinos architectural elements—a single-story, multi-roomed compound made of adobe, timber, and thatch, surrounded by a square-shaped adobe wall.

Approaching the compound gate, their paths converged with those of two women covered head-to-toe in dark colors and carrying spears.

The prime holdout of Quirnosi culture in the Maelstrom Isles was the religion of the Quirnosi Spiritual Pantheon, with their dedication being focused primarily on their patron goddess from which the isle and city of Quianor got its name, the spirit of refuge, Quiana—Quiara had been the subject of many jokes due to their similar names.

Though the strict gender roles of the continent were relaxed in the Maelstrom, there were still areas where they adhered to them religiously, such as in combat roles, so these women must have been sentinels. Specifically, they must have been the infamous Hudulese ‘shadow sentinels’.

The shadow warriors and sentinels of Hudu were known for incorporating the environment of their homeland into their fighting techniques, conducting attacks without ever being seen by the enemy. It was a useful combat style outside of their homeland too, so Hudu’s shadow armies were highly sought after for Imperial operations that required a degree of discretion. Currently, the Viceroy had most of them in Pentoz, supporting the anti-slavery revolution in the Shurylian Civil War, which was why the Hudulese Imperial Garrison had been the island’s primary defense… until whatever was now haunting the Haunted Isle befell them.

Malabo spoke to the sentinels for a moment, sending them back into the Palace. “This will not take long,” Malabo assured General Fajardo.

After a few minutes, the sentinels returned with a middle-aged man who looked like Malabo, with similar clothing and jewelry and ritual scars. It didn’t take an intellectual to determine who he was, so Antonio and the others bowed their heads to him respectfully.

He embraced his son, and they exchanged words in their native tongue. Then, the man turned to them and repeated the head-bow. “Imperial friends, I welcome you. I am Mölambo, King Consort of Hudu. I act as our Queen’s mayordomo.”

“Well met, my King,” the General greeted him, “We seek an audience with the Queen.”

“She awaits you with the Council of Chiefs.” King Mölambo ushered them into the compound. “Come, there is much to discuss.”

Following the King Consort inside, Antonio found the Paramount Palace to be in the same state as the rest of Ghost Town—filled to the brim, from the courtyard to the halls. Antonio supposed the Queen was willing to shelter her people in her own home. He didn’t know many royals who would shelter commoners in their homes. But, it did fit with their worship of the patron goddess of refuge. He found that admirable.

When they entered the council chamber, a host of people who were presumably the various Chiefs of the island were seated in a circle, each of whom turned to regard their group. The King led them over to the opposite end of the room, where a middle-aged woman sat on an ornate throne of timber.

The King spoke his native tongue before switching to Reinos, “I present Queen Bisila, Paramount Chief of Hudu.”

Antonio joined his fellows in bowing to the Queen of Hudu.

The Hudulese Queen stood up from her throne and approached them. She had Baleppo scars and wore more adornments than her husband and son combined, including a crown of goat horns. In her hand, she held an intricate cane that appeared to double as her royal scepter, with a goat skull at the top and a tassel of seashells hanging off of it.

The Queen used her free hand to grip the General’s shoulder. “General Fajardo. I welcome you to Hudu.”

“Thank you, my Queen.”

They shared kisses—on the cheeks, like normal people. Antonio hoped that Malabo was taking notes… Then, she turned to Antonio, regarding him for a moment before gripping his shoulder. “You are the Reinos Prince of King Bonkoro’s court. You are most welcome, Your Grace.”

“Thank you, my Queen,” he replied while she kissed his cheeks too.

Queen Bisila returned to her throne, Malabo and the King took seats on her respective right and left, and their audience commenced. Antonio stood with his companions while the General relayed the details of their battle with the kongamato genearch to the Council of Chiefs. And, of the sacrifices they’d made to get here.

“You have been through a terrible ordeal,” King Mölambo sympathized. “How many soldiers were lost in the crossing?”

“One-hundred of the Empire’s finest accompanied us from Bakari’s garrison,” General Fajardo stated, “As far as we saw, only the four of us survived to make it to shore.”

“We can send scouts in search of other survivors, but,” he lamented, “even without factoring in the kongamato’s savagery, Hudu’s waters are the most treacherous in the Maelstrom Sea. I do not have high hopes of finding anyone. You have our deepest condolences.”

“And, you have my gratitude all the same.” The General bowed her head. “We will make do with what we have. My squires and I are prepared to provide support against whatever ails your people.”

“A most commendable front,” one Chief spoke up, an unhappy expression in his visage. “But, I have little faith in the abilities of one knight and three squires to provide support against what ails us. It figures that Viceroy Nieves would send such a dismally unprepared force…”

The General raised an eyebrow at him. “Do you blame your Viceroy for your current predicament, Chief…?”

“Riokalo. Chief of Bloodletter Bay.” Chief Riokalo raised a single hand in defense. “I mean no disrespect to you personally, General, it is clear that you are a victim as well. But, this has become typical of our relationship with your people.” He crossed his arms. “They send our shadow armies to raid and conquer, often against enemies we’ve never even heard of, and leave us with few defenses and only the hope that our people will come back with rewards for our service to the Empire,” he muttered, “With all due respect… some might call that ‘exploitation’.”

Bloodletter Bay… If Antonio wasn’t wrong, that name was in reference to Empress Chela the Bloodletter. Ravarra didn’t choose place names in the Maelstrom, only the Maelstrom Islanders themselves did that. If even places named in honor of Imperial rulers were beginning to question Imperial rule, the Empire could be in trouble…

“You speak out of turn, Riokalo!” Another Chief bowed her head to their band. Instead of Baleppo scars, her face was marked with tattoos. Antonio guessed that she might’ve been part of the Cim Tribe, another of the main tribal groups of the Maelstrom with a sizable minority on Hudu. “General, I am Chief Mbongwe. That man does not speak for all of us. On behalf of the people of Port Huntress, I give you gratitude for the prosperity granted to us by the Empire.”

“And, I am certain that Port Huntress’s new trading contract with the Viceroy has nothing to do with that…” Chief Riokalo grumbled.

Before Antonio knew it, the room erupted into argument, various Chiefs shouting over each other to be heard.

“Ravarra exploits us!”

“Ravarra protects us! They freed us from the Pentozi and shielded us from the necromancers!”

“They view us as pagans, even the syncretists! Quirnon wouldn’t treat us like pagans!”

“Ravarra values us more than Quirnon ever did!”

Queen Bisila slammed her cane into the ground to quiet them down. “Enough! You make fools of yourselves! I apologize, General,” she stated while everyone settled down, “My people are very apprehensive as of late.”

The General looked at the Chiefs warily. “I… understand, my Queen.”

“Chief Riokalo has more right to it than most.” She turned to him. “Explain yourself, Chief.”

“Yes, my Queen.” Chief Riokalo turned back to address them, and it was clear that the fight had left him. A haunted expression crossed his face. “My Chiefdom was where it all began… It tore through my people like paddles through water. With my shadow army in Shuryl, we barely had any defenders as is, so we had no choice but to escape to the mountains.” He shook his head gravely. “It was days before I felt safe enough to make for Ghost Town to tell my Queen and the Imperial garrison what happened. To his credit, General Guzman rallied his soldiers to come to our aid immediately. They fought valiantly, but before long… the beast had them all.”

…The beast? 

Antonio shared a questioning look with his fellow squires.

The General too adorned a similar expression. “What ‘beast’?”

The Chiefs exchanged glances before looking to Queen Bisila. The Queen of Hudu was quiet for a moment, pondering with plain concern on her face before speaking up, “Have you been to the Quirnosi continent, my Imperial friends? Have you seen the great beasts that roam there?”

They all nodded. Quirnon had many great and dangerous animals on it—gorillas, rhinoceri, hippopotami and the like. But, none of them could have killed an entire garrison… 

“Ours is a beast that puts all others to shame.” The Queen gestured across the room, and up stepped an individual Antonio’s age who didn’t appear to be Hudulese. “This is Principal Inathi, sibling to the Nomarch of Zukor. They can speak of it better than I.”

Zukor?

This had to be the ‘new friend’ Malabo had been talking about. Antonio had heard of Zukor—it was one of Quirnon’s thousand Principalities, on the far east of the continent. It wasn’t an Imperial vassal, and it was nowhere near Hudu or any of the Maelstrom Isles. The closest vassals they had were in the eastern edges of the Fabian Basin, and even that was nowhere close. So, what was a Zukoan Principal doing here?

Antonio took in the Quirnosi royal’s appearance. They wore a tunic and headscarf that were patterned white and black, beaded jewelry, and a leaf-shaped spear slung over their back. There was a clear difference in facial features between them and the Hudulese, such as wider eyes and nostrils, with the only thing they had in common being a similar skin tone. 

Their eyes were pointed to the ground despondently for a long moment before looking up to regard them.

“We call it Ivory,” they spoke clear Reinos in an unfamiliar accent, “I was an unwilling witness to its arrival. It came to this island the same way as me… on a slave ship. I was abducted in a raid by Pentozi Subjugators two weeks ago.”

Antonio joined Quiara and Danilo in a collective groan.

Horrifying, but unfortunately, unsurprising. Even in the midst of warring for its own lands, the Principality of Pentoz couldn’t sate its ceaseless hunger for slaves. Antonio hoped that the revolutionaries in Shuryl would spread to the other cities and burn them to the ground… 

“We were sailing past Hudu when Ivory broke loose from its bonds,” the Principal continued, “It slaughtered the Subjugators in mere moments. I only survived because the ship was badly damaged in the commotion, wrecking in Bloodletter Bay before it could turn on me. Chief Riokalo’s people freed me, and I escaped inland with them.”

“I see. You have my sympathies,” General Fajardo replied. “No one should suffer as you have.”

“Except for slavers,” Quiara muttered, “Good riddance.”

“Agreed.” Antonio addressed the Principal, “But, what exactly is this ‘Ivory’?”

“It comes from my homeland. The most apex of its predators.” They shut their eyes and released a shuddering breath. “Ivory’s a monster… A demonic cross between mammal and reptile. Many names exist, but I prefer its simplest descriptor…”

Their eyes shot open and stared at Antonio directly.

“…Elephant snake.”

…Holy Lord of Dark.

An ominous silence clouded the room. 

Then, Malabo leaned towards his mother and whispered into her ear. Queen Bisila in turn whispered to King Mölambo, and then tapped her cane on the ground. “We will discuss the details with the Imperials ourselves. This council is adjourned. We reconvene tomorrow.”

King Mölambo and the Chiefs stood, making their way to the exit.

The Chief of Port Huntress stopped to tell the General, “I have complete faith in you. I know you will save us all.”

“Stop sucking up, Mbongwe,” Chief Riokalo snapped at her, to which she replied by sucking her teeth at him before leaving. The Chief of Bloodletter Bay observed the General before speaking up, “I am skeptical, as you know… But as of now, you are our only hope.” He nodded curtly. “I welcome the chance to be proven wrong.” With that, he exited the room while the General followed him with her eyes.

“Elephant… snake?” Danilo finally asked, “I’ve seen elephants before, and I’ve certainly seen snakes… I can’t imagine what a ‘cross’ would look like.”

“Whatever you envision,” Principal Inathi told him, “I assure you, it’s far worse.”

“Of course the damned Pentozi would be responsible for this.” Quiara released a frustrated sigh. “They probably thought this ‘elephant snake’ would be good sport for their gladiators. Cunts…”

“I’m not sure…” Antonio countered, “If this thing could tear through an entire garrison with ease, it wouldn’t be smart to bring it into the cities. Slavers are stupid, but are they ‘that’ stupid?”

“Agreed.” General Fajardo nodded. “I’m wondering how they were able to capture such a creature in the first place if they weren’t prepared to hold it.”

With King Mölambo and the Chiefs gone, Antonio and his companions were left alone with Queen Bisila, Malabo, and Principal Inathi. The Queen locked eyes with her son and the Principal in turn.

“…What we are about to say does not leave this room.” Queen Bisila inclined her head. “Go on, Inathi.”

Inathi hesitated for a moment, the despondency remaining in their gaze.

“…My abductors were genuine, but the abduction itself was not,” they admitted, “It was scripted. They were given clear instructions to capture me and Ivory specifically… because I had it poisoned beforehand. To weaken it and make it easier for transport.” They hung their head in shame. “I don’t know where I went wrong… but this madness is my fault.”

The squires shared more perplexed glances among themselves.

The General crossed her arms as she inquired, “What was the purpose of this ploy?”

“To smuggle Ivory to the Shurylian Revolution.” They lifted their gaze to address her. “The insurgents are outmatched by the city-state’s Legion, so this plot was hatched to gain them an edge. I was put into contact with secret sympathizers in the Senate, who ordered the abductions as a cover, but the details of the operation were hammered out,” they held their gaze firm, “by Grand Admiral Eleuterio Nieves.”

…

…

…

…Everyone stared in silence. 

Queen Bisila added, “One week ago, Viceroy Nieves wrote to me to prepare my armies to pull out of the Shurylian conflict. He gave no details, but he displayed confidence that the war would be over soon. I had been about to do so before the events in Bloodletter Bay transpired.”

Antonio stood in shock for another moment.

Grand Admiral Nieves…? He couldn’t believe it… “The Viceroy planned this?”

“That was… a gamble, for sure,” Quiara remarked, “A creature like that wouldn’t have differentiated between slaver and revolutionary…”

“I told him as much,” Inathi stated, “I fear he didn’t care for the risks.”

Antonio didn’t want to believe it… But, it all made sense. The Viceroy had been pouring his resources into the civil war in Shuryl. That was why the Hudulese armies were overseas in the first place.

Antonio had a feeling that the arrangement with the revolutionaries wasn’t solely about abolishing slavery… When placed together with Tarres and Corion, Shuryl would make for an impressive gem if added to the Imperial Crown…

And, it would of course earn the Viceroy many favors among the Imperial Court… 

But, that meant that ultimately, whether intentional or not… the chaos on Hudu was the fault of the Viceroy of the Maelstrom Isles. And by extension, the Empire’s. 

“What happens now?” Danilo asked. 

General Fajardo’s visage had progressively grown darker as more information was revealed. But now, she schooled her countenance, giving off an air of disassociation.

“Regardless of how it got here, that monster cannot be allowed to roam free any longer. Protecting the subjects of the Magnificent Empress remains our highest priority.” She looked to the Principal. “Give me our options. Can it be hurt?”

“It is susceptible to pain, but it can take a lot of it,” they answered, “I fear a blade would only function like a splinter. I can recreate the poison potion if I find ingredients, but the first one should’ve lasted the whole voyage. I don’t know how Ivory shrugged it off so quickly…” They stroked their chin. “It’s also more ravenous than usual… If we can find where it’s made its home, maybe I can determine what went wrong the first time.”

“On that, we may have a lead!” Malabo stood up. He rushed over to a bookshelf on the side of the room and started to rummage around as he spoke, “The great kongamato we faced, it is a known menace. We call it the Progenitor. Aha!” He retrieved a rolled-up parchment and returned to them, spreading it out on the floor to reveal an Imperial map of Hudu. “Its home is here. In the Gluttonous Swamp.”

He pointed out a spot in the northern Shadowlands, directly in front of Hudu’s tallest mountain, Behemoth Peak. Between them, Antonio spotted a small orange area labeled ‘The Wound’. 

“It would not have abandoned the swamp on a whim,” Malabo continued, “If we should search for Ivory’s home, there is no better place to begin. Coincidentally, it is also home to the Trinity.”

“‘Trinity’?” Antonio asked. 

“Three magical conversos who live there in seclusion. They may be able to share information on the recent events in their home. And, provide ingredients for the potion.”

‘Trinity’. An interesting moniker… As magic-using conversos, that would make them part of the Reinos Doctrinal Church… unless they were freethinkers, but Antonio doubted that conversos would be freethinkers. Was their name a reference to the Magical Trinity? Perhaps they would find out. 

“Very well. But, I’d like to return to Leviathan Beach first.” General Fajardo pointed out the southern shoreline. “Splinters are better than nothing. Our ship’s hold was packed with an armory’s worth of weapons, all in buoyant crates for such an occasion as this. Something should’ve washed ashore by now. We can arm ourselves and restock your people’s defenses.”

“You have my thanks, General.” The Queen bowed her head. 

Malabo stood. “In that case, I will join you.”

“As will I,” Inathi concurred. 

“No.” The General made cutting motions with her hands. “This is a matter for soldiers, not untrained royals.”

“You have seen me handle myself, General. Besides, you will need a guide.” Malabo pointed to a blue line on the map. “The Revenant River flows south to the beach and connects to the swamp up north, and I know it well. With the kongamato at sea, I can safely ferry you up and downriver, and cut the day’s journey in half.”

“I can handle myself as well.” Inathi tapped their spear. “My iklwa is sharpened and ready for a fight… And, I need to atone for the suffering I’ve caused.”

Queen Bisila shared native words with her son for a moment before giving General Fajardo a nod. “If you will have him, you have my leave. His magic will be a valuable asset on your hunt.”

Antonio met Malabo’s eye. Then, he gave the General a shrug. “We could use all the help we can get.”

Malabo gave him a smile, then turned it on the General. “We are strongest together. Glōria Imperiī, no?”

General Fajardo scowled, then relented with a sigh, “Fine… We leave at first light.”

***(The Revenant River, approaching Leviathan Beach)***

The next morning, their party of six set out with two canoes, Antonio sharing one with Malabo and the General, and Quiara, Danilo, and Inathi sharing the other, leaving enough space to carry back whatever supplies they could find.

A light rain had started at midday as they neared the beach where it all began. Antonio considered it a welcome change of pace after being trapped from the rain under the eerie jungle canopy for most of the previous day. Perhaps that made him a bad easterner, he considered, being scared of jungle canopies. His ancestors had fought so that they could live in freedom under similar canopies.

But, he wasn’t just any kind of easterner, he reminded himself. He was a Jurado. A child of waters like these. Looking up at the cloudy sky peeking through the trees standing on either side of the wide Revenant River, it struck him how similar it was to sailing down Río Defensor Jurado, the widest river in eastern Ravarra, towards Lago Puro at the heart of the Selva Traviesa, and towards his mother’s home on Isla Defensor Jurado at the heart of that lake. What he wouldn’t give to be back there, playing with the capuchins and the howler monkeys without a care in the world…

But at the end of the day, that wasn’t the life he led. He wasn’t a true Jurado, he was a Reyes with a Jurado’s sense of duty. He was a sworn defender—a ‘Defensor Jurado’—for all people of his family’s dominion from one end of the world to the other. It was time for him to fulfill that duty.

“So,” Danilo asked from the other canoe, “how does a Principal from Zukor become involved in an Imperial plot to topple a Pentozi city?”

Antonio had been wondering that as well, so he listened in on the conversation.

“It was an arrangement of convenience,” Inathi answered, the rain forming droplets on their face. “I was to provide aid in the Viceroy’s conflict, and he was to provide aid in mine.”

“And, what is your conflict?” Quiara asked. 

“The deposition of my brother as Nomarch.”

Thunder clapped in the distance while the squires all stared at Inathi in surprise. 

“You want to depose your own brother?” Antonio inquired from his own canoe, “To become Nomarch yourself?”

“It’s not about becoming Nomarch. It’s about protecting my people.” Their expression went dark at that. “Mesuli is a vile, selfish man corrupted by greed. He exploits the rural tribespeople, using them for deathly labor while he lazes about in the city surrounded by his ill-gotten gains.”

“That is terrible,” Quiara stated. “What is he exploiting them for?”

More thunder clapped as Inathi reached into the top of their tunic, coming up with a beaded necklace that held a glimmering red gemstone on its end. Antonio almost mistook it for a ruby until they spoke again.

“Blood diamonds,” Inathi stated, “Beautiful in jewelry and powerful in magic. The most accursed of all crystals, acquired with literal blood, sweat, and tears. The blood diamond trade has awarded our family great wealth, but has that wealth been shared with the people? No. Whatever wealth he doesn’t bask in goes straight into funding his conflict with neighboring Koreku.” They eyed the gem. “The acquisition of this one… is said to have caused the deaths of a dozen rural miners. Trapping their souls inside it for eternity. I keep it to remind me of the importance of my mission, of what’s at stake for my people if I fail.”

Trapped souls…? ‘Accursed’ didn’t begin to describe a jewel like that. That was evil magic, the sort whose name Antonio didn’t dare speak aloud. The kind that had almost conquered and destroyed the world on too many occasions.

And, this Prince Mesuli was using it for profit… What lengths wouldn’t be gone to for greed?

Antonio considered Inathi’s words… He recognized that sense of duty. It wasn’t unlike his own. “That’s very admirable.”

“Doing what’s right should be expected, not admirable.” They returned the necklace to their tunic. “I told myself that transporting Ivory was a necessary evil if it meant dethroning Mesuli. Now, I’m living with the consequences.” They nodded in determination. “And, I intend to repent. I don’t know what I’ll do about Zukor. But, I can still help Hudu.”

“Well, I think it’s admirable.” Danilo smiled. “Everyone loves a hero.”

“Especially altruistic ones,” Quiara agreed. 

Inathi glanced at them both for a moment before sharing their smiles.

Antonio turned to Malabo, who was using his obsidian staff to push their canoe along with magic. “Do your people view you heroically? Or are they more concerned for the safety of their presumptive future King?”

“Both sentiments surely exist,” Malabo stated, “But, I am not doing this for my people’s love. Only their survival. I would be a poor bojiammó if I was only concerned with being loved.”

“‘Bojiammó’?”

“The traditional title of magic users in the Baleppo Tribe.” Malabo indicated to his staff. “We are spiritual guides and healers, serving as medium between the spirits and the people. I am still in training, but I have learned a great deal.”

“Ah. So, you’re like a cleric?” It didn’t sound unlike the role of magic users in the Doctrine, utilizing God’s gift to connect worshippers to Him. 

Malabo appeared to consider that before nodding. “Yes, I suppose it is quite similar.” Then, he adopted a mischievous smile. “Minus the celibacy.”

“Oh…” Antonio ducked his head. 

“Bashful once again!” Malabo exclaimed with a chuckle, “Hardly a sensible reaction, considering the reputation of Imperial knights.”

“Eh, he’s got you there, Princeling,” Danilo spoke up.

Antonio glared at him. “You can’t talk, Dani, you’d be a whore whether you were a knight or not.”

“True.”

“But, surely a knightly Imperial Prince has no trouble finding lovers,” Malabo put in.

“No…” Antonio mumbled, his cheeks heating up. “I’ve—I’ve had plenty of lovers…”

“That’s one way to put it.” Quiara laughed. “Apparently, he’s supposed to be searching among the Maelstrom Princesses for a bride? So, he says. Well, you should see the way he’s been ‘searching’ those Princesses. Or rather, ‘strip searching’—.”

“Quiqui, shut it!” Antonio complained.

“Another Prince who appreciates ‘testing the waters’ before diving in.” Malabo chuckled again. “I sympathize. I suppose this means that your companions are fond of sharing.”

Antonio stared back at him in confusion. “What?”

“Your fellow squires.” He indicated to Danilo and Quiara. “Are the three of you not…?”

“What? No!” Antonio blushed profusely. “That’s not—No!”

“Well…” Quiara smiled in amusement. “Not ‘lovers’, per se, but… when you’re sharing a tent and the rum is flowing, certain things are bound to happen—.”

“Shut up!” Antonio punched her arm while she and Danilo laughed at his expense. “We’re just friends. Colleagues. Acquaintances, even.”

“With all the benefits,” Danilo added unhelpfully. Antonio wished he were close enough to punch… Danilo turned back to Inathi. “How about altruistic Zukoan Principals? Do they get many lovers?”

Inathi studied him curiously. “A few… More than a few.”

“Enough, all of you,” General Fajardo called from the head of Antonio’s canoe. “Stay focused on the mission at hand.”

“Prudish,” Malabo jested, “Is it not the same experience for the knight-generals of Ravarra’s Kingdom-Empire?”

Antonio nearly jumped out of his skin at his audacity. 

The General glanced back at him with narrowed eyes before returning her attention forward. “I’m an Isla Delmaran of middle age, I’ve had more lovers than you’ve all had combined years of life, now shut it. We’re nearing the coast.”

More thunder clapped as Antonio peered past her, confirming it when he spotted the Maelstrom Sea in the distance and the eternal shroud of mist beyond.

It was time…

The General led them in grounding their canoes before the tree line, then the six of them trekked down through the jungle to the familiar shores of Leviathan Beach.

Just as they’d predicted, the shoreline was riddled with scattered wreckage from their ship… and a number of bodies as well. 

Antonio joined his companions in whispering a brief prayer for the deceased, keeping an eye on the horizon. The sound of thunder caused memories of their battle with the kongamato and their Progenitor to flash across his mind like the lightning in the distance. He hoped they wouldn’t have to face them again while they were here…

“General.” Quiara pointed ahead. “Those ones appear mostly intact.”

Antonio spotted them. Three crates near the water. They weren’t undamaged, but that damage made it visible that they still held their contents. 

“Mhm… It’s a start,” the General accepted, “Let’s go.”

“Wait.” Danilo pointed to their left. “Wait, look!”

Antonio looked.

He saw movement down the beach, coming in their direction. Locals? They should know better than to be out in the open…

But then, he recognized Imperial armor, and his heart began to race. 

Soldiers… Survivors! 

As they got closer, it became apparent that there were only three of them, and they were clearly worse for wear, but it was them! Imperial soldiers! They hadn’t been the only survivors!

“Are they from your ship?” Malabo asked. 

“They have to be!” Quiara agreed. “General?”

General Fajardo only stood and stared for several moments. For once, the signature sternness was nowhere to be found in her visage. Antonio thought he even recognized a glimmer of hope. 

“Glōria Imperiī.” She moved for the tree line. “Come. Let’s regroup…” But suddenly, Inathi’s iklwa blocked her path. “What are you doing?”

Inathi shook their head. “We can’t help…”

“What? We have to!” Antonio insisted. 

Inathi looked at him, their expression filled with plain sorrow. 

“…It’s too late.”

VROOOOO…

Everyone paused at the sound of trumpeting in the distance.

Thunder clapped, and was immediately followed by a familiar sound.

Heavy, running footfalls. 

Antonio peered back at the soldiers, who were now looking around in fear and confusion. Then, they all turned behind them, and following their gaze, Antonio saw it too.

Sand further down the beach flying to and fro like a miniature sandstorm.

But, it wasn’t a sandstorm. 

An elephantine trunk raised from the flying sand.

VROOOOO

It descended on the closest Imperial soldier. She fumbled for her sword, but was swept off her feet and lifted into the air. 

Antonio gaped in horror at the creature that held her.

It had an elephantine head—the trunk, big ears, tusks as sharp as blades… but its eyes were like a snake’s, piercing, black as a cloudy night from iris to sclera, and far too big for its face.

And when it opened its mouth, it was far, far too wide, with a black, forked tongue, and rows of sharp black teeth lining its maw, crowned at the top by two massive, protruding fangs. 

Ivory… 

The screaming soldier was dropped from the trunk’s grip straight into the maw, which closed on her with an audible crunch.

Antonio nearly fainted as he watched the teeth tear through armor and flesh and bone, and then swallow it all down the black hole of its throat. 

That was when he saw the rest of its body. Four round elephant feet were connected to a long, round, scaly body that dragged across the ground, ending in a snakelike tail. Its gray, scaly stomach gyrated as it digested its kill. 

Those snakelike eyes turned on the remaining two soldiers, and from its maw emanated a sound somewhere between a growl and a hiss. 

The soldiers charged with their swords drawn. But, quick as lightning, the monster’s massive body twisted in a circle, kicking sand into their eyes and stunning them.

Then, it turned its head, twisting its body unnaturally so that it crossed over its midsection, slithering over its own belly to bear down on one of them. It enveloped his head and separated it from his body in another crunch, swallowing it like a grape. 

The last soldier had the sense to back away, attempting to escape while it lifted his companion’s headless body in its trunk.

Antonio wanted to call to him, to help him, to do anything, but before he could, it was on him.

Still carrying the corpse, it rolled itself over sideways, straightening its body, and then charged.

It gained on him easily, coming up alongside him… and then slashed out its rightward tusk, taking out half of his neck in one slice. 

It was over.

Ivory dropped the second body on top of the third, then twisted around, facing away from their hiding spot as it started to feast on both of its kills.

Antonio and his companions looked between each other, grim and terrified. What were they going to do? How could they fight this thing? They turned to General Fajardo. 

Not grim. Not terrified.

She looked angry.

Angrier than Antonio had ever seen her. 

“General?” Danilo asked. 

At that moment, the General opened her lips, seething through gritted teeth, “Enough is enough! So help me King Above, no matter what happens next, no matter what we have to do, no matter what we have to sacrifice, that thing… dies!”

Everyone watched quietly while she looked between them and the crates on the beach.

“Three… Six of us… We go two for one. While it’s still distracted.” She nodded at each of them in turn. “Danilo, with me. Quiara, Inathi. Antonio, Malabo. Move out.”

Everyone met each other’s eyes, and it only to them all a second to nod in affirmation.

She was right, Antonio concurred internally. She was completely right.

No more unnecessary deaths. No more suffering.

Antonio had a duty, and he was going to fulfill it.

That monster had to die. 

As quietly as they could, Danilo and the General snuck out of the jungle and down the beach. Antonio kept worrying that it was going to turn and see them, or hear them with its massive ears, but it didn’t. It just kept chomping. Hefting a crate, they managed to sneak back across the beach to safety.

Quiara and Inathi went next, and Antonio again watched with worry, but they too returned unscathed with the second crate in hand. He sighed in relief.

Now, it was his turn. 

Together, he and Malabo exited the trees, tiptoeing as quick as they could across the sand.

As they snuck along, Antonio watched Ivory’s gyrating belly with deepening dread. He was about to force himself to look away.

But then, the beast’s massive ears perked up.

Panicking, Antonio dove behind the closest piece of wreckage he could find. There was a body splayed out right next to him, and he willed himself not to look.

He heard the beast’s body drag, followed by its heavy footfalls, slow this time. It growled, and that was how Antonio realized that it was coming closer…

He glanced back at the others, staring in fright from the tree line. Quiara tried to go to him, and Inathi had to hold her back.

As it growled again behind him, he glanced over at Malabo, hiding behind another piece of wreckage further down. He watched him in terror. Then, he clasped his hands over his mouth, and it took Antonio less than a second to see why.

His heart nearly stopped when the elephantine trunk came into view right beside him.

It started to sniff around…

Searching for him…

He held his breath, but he was certain that it was going to hear his heartbeat pounding against his chest. He was going to get caught…

The beast hissed, and Antonio nearly gagged at its hot, death-stinking breath. But then, its trunk came down, wrapping around the dead body beside him, and dragged it away.

When he heard it lumbering away, he finally released his breath.

That was too close… Too fucking close…

They had to move.

Standing quietly, checking to make sure it wasn’t looking, he scrambled over to Malabo, and then they made their way down to the shore.

When they reached the final crate, they found that it was more damaged than the others. Not ideal, but what choice did they have now?

They shared a nod, placed their hands on its edges, and tried to carefully lift it—. 

GROOOAAN…

CRACK

Antonio and Malabo dropped it as its contents spilled out, blades clattering against each other loudly. 

Thunder sounded out above them. And then, there was a growl…

Antonio looked at Malabo, who stared behind him with a face so alarmed that even his scars looked like they were screaming. Antonio turned—. 

And, fell on his back with a gasp when he found himself face-to-trunk with Ivory the elephant snake.

The monster’s massive eyes dilated as it took him in. It hissed hot, stinking breath onto his face as its black, forked tongue shot out to lick its chops. It lifted its trunk into the air.

VROOOOO

Antonio was grabbed under the arms by Malabo, who pulled him back while the beast trumpeted into the sky. Then, he pointed his staff as it looked back down at the two Princes.

It started to dig its big, round feet into the sand, and Antonio got the sense that it was preparing to pounce—.

But then, it jumped and emitted a quick trumpet of pain, backing to its left while staring to its right.

Inathi was there, their iklwa bloodied with elephant snake blood. They circled around to join Antonio and Malabo just as Danilo, Quiara, and the General came to pull Antonio to his feet.

Ivory’s eyes dilated again as it stared Inathi down in a way that looked suspiciously like recognition. It growled, starting to dig in its heels again, but then Inathi pulled off their necklace, and it trumpeted into clear alarm, backing away slightly.

Was it… Was it scared of the blood diamond…?

Inathi raised it high, shouting something in their native tongue, and then held it out to their party. “Malabo!”

Malabo stared for a moment. Then, he pointed his staff, crackling with magic, and reached out with it to tap the gemstone.

SHING

Translucent red speckles exploded from the blood diamond, scattering along the ground. The speckles started to move… and Antonio’s heart skipped a beat when they started to transform into the shapes of hands and arms.

Chilling moans echoed across the beach as translucent red figures seemingly pulled themselves out of the ground without so much as disturbing a single grain of sand. They stood, dozens of them, with the bodies and faces of people that should be—that were—dead. Missing limbs, split skulls, fatal wounds oozing with translucent blood that dripped but never reached the ground.

Ghosts…

The ghosts of the rural tribespeople, Antonio remembered Inathi saying. The trapped souls of those who’d died to acquire that gem.

But, it wasn’t just miners, Antonio realized. Looking at the clothing and weapons… many of them looked like fighters. Warriors and sentinels.

One moaning red sentinel whose body appeared mostly intact floated over to Inathi, staring them in the face.

Inathi met her eye sadly. “Bongi…”

The sentinel only stared. Then, she turned to the frightened Ivory… and emitted a bloodcurdling scream.

She floated over to the monster in a rush, screaming the whole way, and then pointed her spear at its trunk and slashed.

VROOOOO

Ivory trumpeted in pain as the tip of its trunk started to bleed. It jumped its front half into the air and came down with a massive thunk, crushing the ghostly sentinel under its foot. The sentinel exploded into particles of red light that flew back to the blood diamond.

The other ghosts emitted their own bloodcurdling screams, raising weapons and mining tools, and then floating over to attack the monster.

“They won’t hold it off for long!” Inathi shouted, “We have to leave! Now!”

Antonio watched as more ghosts hurt the beast before getting crushed into particles. They were falling fast. But, they were doing damage. They were hurting Ivory.

That meant Antonio could hurt Ivory.

He found himself looking down at the scattered swords from the broken crate. His eyes alighted on one in particular, recognizing the sigil on the blade—the Delmaran Mau cat of House Reyes, wearing the Royal Tiara atop its head and the Imperial Masque over its eyes.

He could do this… He could end this right now. No more suffering.

He could do this.

He reached down and swiped up the sword.

“Antonio?” General Fajardo asked.

“We’re ending this!” He shouted as lightning cracked across the sky.

He ran for the monster.

“ANTONIO, NO!!!” Inathi tried to call.

This was his purpose. This was what he’d been put on the world to do.

He was an Imperial squire. A soldier of the Empire on which the clouds never parted. A sworn defender of all people who put their faith in his family’s rule.

This was his duty.

And, he was going to fulfill it.

Antonio came upon the left side of the beast just as it slapped the ghost of a miner into particles with its trunk. He raised his sword, and then slashed it across its round foot.

VROOOOO

He raised it again while the monster trumpeted painfully, preparing to strike another blow and—.

…

…

…

…A sharp pain had sliced across his neck, cutting his breath off. 

Ivory was there, right in front of him, eyeing him angrily, hissing hot breath into his face while lightning crackled in the sky, its leftward tusk dripping red. 

There was shouting, but Antonio couldn’t make it out. He couldn’t breathe… He dropped his sword and collapsed to the ground, choking, the same redness splashing from his mouth. 

Ivory opened its maw, black fangs extended, preparing to envelop him…

…SHRIIIEEK

Ivory trumpeted in pain once again when something poked its skull, drawing blood.

Antonio looked up… only to see none other than the kongamato circling in the sky. Led in formation by their great genearch. The Progenitor.

SHRIIIEEK

The flying monsters dove for the grounded one, puncturing its belly and tail with beaks and talons. Ivory growled, jumping up to snatch one of them in its maw, chewing on it angrily.

Hands grabbed under Antonio’s arms, and he looked up to see General Fajardo, her face contorted as she shouted desperately. Quiara and Danilo appeared at his sides, lifting him up. Then, the three of them started running as they carried him back to the jungle.

Before his lids grew heavy with the sleep that shouldn’t come, Antonio spotted Malabo, still on the beach, facing the beast. Thunderclouds crackled above. 

Inathi joined him, lifting the blood diamond necklace as the last of the red ghosts disintegrated, their particles returning to their crystalline prison.

Malabo lifted his obsidian staff. He released the same high whistling note he’d released the last time they’d been on this beach. The clouds crackled brighter and brighter, lightning swirling in a tornado.

Then, the lightning struck directly onto the tip of his staff.

The Progenitor and its flock shrieked in alarm and flew off back towards the mist.

Inathi held the gem out, and as if drawn to it, several small bolts of lightning bridged the gap between the staff and the necklace, causing them both to flare brighter.

When Ivory beheld their shared power, it backed away from the crystals crackling with energy.

But, Malabo pointed his obsidian at the monster, and Inathi pointed their blood diamond… and the lightning from both stones released.

BZZHHH

Ivory trumpeted as its entire body was enveloped in crackling light.

Malabo and Inathi made their escape, running in Antonio’s direction.

Before he started to black out, Antonio watched Ivory convulse, stunned and unable to give chase, lifting its shaking trunk furiously before disappearing from view as they escaped into the jungle. 

VROOOOO…

***(Present Day, 3019 CR)***

Thunder claps loudly as you return to your own mind.

Prisoners scream further inside the dungeons, and the Arch Sorceress watches the ceiling for a moment with knitted brows. “That was… quite close.”

Another clap rattles the room, and the old woman looks around silently for a moment.

The door to the office swings open.

“Arch Sorceress.” The black hair and clothes of Lord Ignacio Duran are recognizable as he enters the room. “The storm is getting heavier.”

“So I see, my former cadet.” She nods slowly. “This is beginning to look like the hurricanes that batter the coastal regions. Or the distant Maelstrom Isles,” she adds with a brief look at you. “The Founder’s Palace hasn’t seen a torrent such as this since…”

She sits quietly for a moment, a pondering expression on her face.

Another thunderclap is soon accompanied by the sound of running footsteps.

“Shiiit, shit, shit, shit!” The signature vest and trousers of Lady Yazmin Leyte Vidal are recognizable as she peeks into the room. “Hey, Lord Apathy and Arch Apathy! There’s a fire in the stables!”

Ignacio follows Yazmin at a run, and the Arch Sorceress sits up before nodding to you. “I must apologize once again for pulling you out at such a pivotal moment, my friend. Clearly, I underestimated the intensity of this storm.” She shakes her head. “Worry not. Antonio’s story is not yet over, but I will refrain from spoiling it. We will finish this tomorrow.” She looks up at the sounds of more claps. “And, I will find us another location to meet.”

You both stand, and you go to leave, and as you do, Arch Sorceress Andrea bows her head lowly to you.

“Thank you, my friend. I look forward to finishing this journey with you tomorrow. Once again, you will know where to find me. Farewell.”

With that, you leave the jailer’s office, returning to the dungeons proper, and you catch a glimpse of her turning to stare once more at the thunderclaps from the ceiling, brows knitted once again, as the door swings shut.

Chapter Text

Thunder claps in the distance as you ascend the steps of the Defenestrator’s Tower, one of the highest in the Founder’s Palace. Lightning crashes dangerously close to your position as you reach your destination.

You enter onto the topmost level and find yourself standing in a large room, illuminated by a crackling fire directly ahead of you and an open window to your right. Instead of being seated next to the fireplace, the familiar figure of an elderly woman wearing gray clerical robes is standing at the window, peering outside while holding the beads of a trifariam in hand.

“We’ve reached the climax of our journey, my friend,” Arch Sorceress Andrea greets you warmly, “I must thank you again for joining me, especially as we’ve had to change locations so frequently. Fear not,” she chuckles, “The ghost of the Defenestrator Empress Dolores will not defenestrate you from this tower, as the saying goes. The only Dolores in this story is the repairwoman. But, a purportedly-haunted tower is a fitting setting for this session, wouldn’t you agree?”

Thunder claps again, and the old Arch Sorceress turns to you fully.

“These towers were built to withstand lightning strikes,” she explains, “They are not perfect, of course, but I have found that they have been serving their purpose in this storm. Since the lightning seems intent on striking the ground.” More thunder claps as if on cue. “If we are to finish our story, there is nowhere safer. Come, let us sit.”

You do as she says, joining her in crossing the room to take your places across from each other next to the fire.

As you both settle in, the Arch Sorceress states, “It is fitting that the climax of this tale should be told during the climax of this storm. Fitting, for many reasons which will become apparent, but I will allow you to see that for yourself.”

The old Arch Sorceress turns, looking into the fire as the light flickers across her golden face.

“Tonight, we return to the Maelstrom Isles for the end of the quest to defeat the beast that haunts the Haunted Isle. Yesterday, we learned from Principal Inathi that the beast was a dreaded elephant snake from Zukor, shipwrecked on Hudu by accident during transport in a plot to smuggle it to Imperial Ravarra’s allies in the Shurylian Revolution. A plot concocted by none other than the Maelstrom’s Imperial Viceroy. Our heroes returned to Leviathan Beach to retrieve supplies for the Hudulese Queen from their wrecked warship. But, the beast awaited them. They fended it off with ghosts trapped in Principal Inathi’s blood diamond, but Antonio tried to take on the monster by himself, and suffered a blow that appeared fatal.”

There are more thunderclaps. Her bright gray sorcerer’s eyes then turn from the flickering fire to stare directly into your own eyes and soul.

“But of course, if it had been fatal, this story would’ve been over now. And as we are here to continue the tale, it very clearly was not. That is where we will pick up.”

She reaches up, and points a finger towards your face.

“I needn’t repeat the rules for you again, my friend. Just enjoy yourself as our three-day journey finally comes to a close. Now, relax and pay close attention.”

With that and another clap of thunder, the finger touches your forehead, and your mind is transported once more to that of a familiar other, long in the past…

***(The Revenant River on Hudu, the Haunted Isle, outside of Ghost Town, 1157 CR)***

The journey back to the Shadowlands had been a blur of chaos—pains in his body, colors behind his eyelids, shouts and whistles in his ears.

Antonio wasn’t dead, the sensations he was experiencing were proof of that. But, he didn’t know how close to the precipice he was, and he still wasn’t sure if he was going to make it out alive. He’d been slipping in and out of consciousness, plagued with dreams and nightmares, but also recounting memories, his life literally flashing before his eyes as he recalled his various firsts.

He remembered the first time he’d been scared. A goblin had made its way down from the mountains, traversing the heartlands, entering the capital, and terrorizing the Imperial Palace with its screeches. He remembered wondering how the knights of the realm had allowed it to come so far and terrorize so many. He remembered thinking that if he were a knight of the realm, he’d never have allowed that to happen.

He remembered the first time he’d gotten in trouble. He’d been learning about the Wretched War, when the world had faced off against the mortal incarnations of the Seven Deadly Sins. That war had been initiated when the Lady of Sloth tried to trigger the world’s destruction expressly so that she could get some sleep. Upon hearing that, he had laughed, but his tutors hadn’t shared his amusement, chastising him and telling him of how many lives had been lost to the Sins-In-Human-Flesh. He remembered thinking that if he’d been alive in that time, he would have defeated the Sins before they could kill so many.

He remembered the first time he’d gotten hurt. After only a few sessions of combat training, he had insisted that he was ready to train with real steel instead of wood. The combat instructor had been reluctant, but his mother had given her consent. He had been so excited. But then, he’d gotten a deep gash on his arm almost immediately. While his mother had been consoling him, she’d told him to remember this moment the next time he thought he could overachieve beyond his skill. He remembered thinking cockily that there wouldn’t be a next time.

…He remembered the first time he’d kissed a girl. He had bonded with the Imperial Guard’s page, Antonia, over their similar names and shared interest in knighthood. That kiss had been awkward and clumsy, but he remembered it being soft and sweet.

…He remembered the first time he’d kissed a boy. He had been charmed by the apprentice jester, Roberto el Bobo, and his ability to make anyone laugh in any situation. That kiss had been rougher than Antonia’s, but he remembered it being just as sweet.

…He remembered losing his virginity by penetrating Antonia. Then, losing his ‘other’ virginity by being penetrated by Roberto. Then, subsequent sexual encounters. Stimulated by excitement, the very first thing he’d done upon arriving in the Maelstrom on the isle of Fanin was fuck a Faninese Princess. Then, he’d come to Bakari, met and been charmed by Quiara and Danilo, and bedded them as well. Contrary to Quiara’s teasing, he hadn’t actually been fucking his way through the Princesses of the Maelstrom Isles—he’d only bedded a few, most of them having to approach him first.

On that note, Malabo’s face came to mind. His scars. His twists of hair. His friendly smile.

He remembered the way he’d tried to kiss him on Leviathan Beach, then teased him on the canoe ride. The way he’d saved him when… Ivory…

He thought about his face again. His smile. His smooth, calming voice. The way he whistled when he did magic.

The whistling… It was like he could hear it now…

…Wait… He could hear it now.

His consciousness was returning. He could hear… water. Shuffling. And, the whistling.

Antonio forced his eyes open… and there was Malabo.

He held his staff in one hand, glowing green at the tip, and was whistling while he shuffled around. Antonio studied him. The patterns of his Baleppo tribal scars along his cheeks. The way his hair fell into his bright eyes.

Then, those bright eyes locked onto his own.

That friendly smile spread across his lips, and then his free hand came up to cup Antonio’s cheek, caressing him endearingly. “You are safe now.”

Antonio looked around. It seemed that he was still in the canoe, but he heard the sounds of lots of people nearby, so they must’ve made it back to Ghost Town.

He opened his mouth. “Hhhh…” He tried to talk, but nothing came out. “Hhhh…”

“Your throat still needs time to heal.” Malabo placed down his staff and lifted a bowl. “This will help.” He extracted from it a green, leafy-looking paste that smelled like kapok oil and… bitter kola? He started applying it to Antonio’s neck. “You should begin regaining your voice within the hour. In the meantime, you have a visitor…”

Suddenly, the beaming face of the little girl from Ghost Town, Ana, came into view.

“Antonio!” She jumped into the canoe, shaking it a bit. “‘It’ hurt you, but you live! You no die! You…” She asked Malabo something in the Baleppo tongue.

“‘Unstoppable,’” he translated.

“Stoppable!”

“‘Unnn-stoppable.’”

“‘Unnn-stoppable!’” Ana repeated, “You ‘unnn-stoppable’!” She reached into her dress and retrieved what Antonio quickly realized was a handmade slingshot. “I make this! I be ‘unnn-stoppable’ like you! I be knight like you!”

Antonio couldn’t help but laugh, his whole body shaking with the effort.

Then, Ana’s mother, Dolores, appeared. She scolded her daughter in the Baleppo tongue and picked her up from the canoe. “Apologies, Your Grace, we will leave you to rest.” After a moment, she bowed her head. “Thank you for your service.”

“Glōria Imperiī!” Ana called out to him, waving her slingshot as her mother carried her away.

And then, Quiara and Danilo appeared, their expressions becoming a mix of worry and relief upon seeing him.

“Toño!” Danilo asked him, “How do you feel?”

“Hhhnn…”

“His voice has not yet healed,” Malabo explained.

“Well… it had better.” Quiara pouted at him. “That was really stupid, Toño. You almost died.”

Antonio shut his eyes and swallowed. He wanted to say that it was necessary, that it had been worth it to at least try to put an end to this… but he couldn’t deny that she was right, so he simply gave his helpless reply, “Hhhnn…”

“Yeah. No more heroics. From now on, we work as a group, as we should have,” Danilo stated. Then, he smiled and inclined over his shoulder. “But, you’ll be pleased to know that the trip was successful. Dolores is fixing up the weapons we brought back. The people are very grateful for the chance to fight back.”

“The Queen and King were very impressed,” Quiara added, “And, the Council of Chiefs. They all send their regards.” She chuckled. “You should’ve seen that one Cim tribeswoman, Mbongwe. She was acting very full of herself at having been proven right about us. Riokalo humbled her, but even he admitted his gratitude.”

Antonio smiled. That was good. If the monster somehow made it this deep into the jungle, at least they’d have a small chance to fend it off.

Suddenly, Quiara exclaimed, and then started snickering. Danilo was smirking. “Uh, looks like you’ve got a camper there, Princeling.”

Antonio gave him a confused look.

Malabo looked down Antonio’s body, then grinned in amusement. “Ah… I should have mentioned. This paste is also an aphrodisiac.”

Antonio paused.

He looked down at himself… and jumped to cover the bulge in his pants while they all snickered at him.

Of course. This could only happen to him. He should’ve known when he smelled the bitter kola…

Malabo’s amused grin met his eye. “It may become uncomfortable if it goes untreated… I suppose I can try to fetch a Princess for you, since you seem to enjoy those.”

“Even if you can’t, there’s sure to be plenty of people in Ghost Town more than willing to express their gratitude,” Quiara noted. “By taking those perfect hips for a ride…” She rubbed her pointer fingers along the belt-line of her armor. “I won’t lie, I’m tempted by the prospect myself…”

“Agreed.” Danilo nodded, still smirking.

Antonio blushed intensely, refusing to meet any of their gazes. Why did everything always happen to him…?

Then finally, General Fajardo appeared, followed closely by Inathi.

The General lifted an eyebrow at his covered crotch before addressing him with a nod. “Antonio. You had everyone worried.”

Though it didn’t show on her face, her voice indicated that ‘everyone’ included her. Antonio was touched by that.

But then, Inathi scowled at him, and poked him with the dull end of their iklwa spear. “No more stunts like that. We’re hunting my monster, so that means that what I say goes. The next time I say we run, we run.”

“I’m affirming this.” The General nodded curtly. “Consider that an order, squire.”

Without the ability to retort, Antonio only sighed.

“Well, now that that’s settled,” Danilo spoke up, “can we talk about the ghosts?”

Inathi looked down. “They are the trapped souls I spoke of… They died to procure the gem.” They looked to Malabo. “I apologize for not explaining things to you sooner.”

“This is the Haunted Isle,” Malabo assured them, “We are not afraid of ghosts.”

Inathi nodded. “But now that he’s awake, we should discuss the next course of action.” They turned to the General. “If Ivory has made its home in the Gluttonous Swamp, we should proceed there as soon as possible to find clues as to what went wrong with my poison. It’s probably still out hunting along the shoreline, but we should get there before morning, just in case. Hopefully this ‘Trinity’ of conversos will be able to help us find answers.”

“And, have ingredients for a new potion,” Malabo added.

“Very well,” the General agreed, “We’ll set out immediately.”

“There is one other matter of business…” Inathi eyed Antonio before looking to the rest of them. “Should we leave him behind?”

Antonio paused at that. “Hhnnn…”

“How much longer before he’s fit to fight again?” General Fajardo asked.

“To fight, not long,” Malabo answered. “Only his neck took injury, and that is healing nicely.”

“Can’t he heal on the ride there?” Danilo asked, “He was healing well on the ride back here.”

“I don’t know if we should risk running into Ivory with him still in this state,” Inathi noted.

Antonio opened his mouth. “Hhnnn…”

“Wherever he goes, I should stay with him,” Malabo stated, “I am currently the only bojiammó in Ghost Town. The rest are still in the mountains.”

“We definitely shouldn’t risk facing Ivory without our magic user,” Quiara put in.

“We are to meet with a ‘Trinity’ of magic users,” Inathi countered. “It may be the safest course of action for us and him.”

“Hhnnn…” Antonio took a breath and tried again, “Hnn-no.”

Everyone stared down at him.

“Hnn…” He breathed, then stated firmly, “No.”

They all stood in silence.

General Fajardo looked to Malabo. “How much longer do you need exactly before he’s fit to fight?”

“About an hour.”

“And, how long does it take to sail to the swamp?”

Malabo shrugged. “About an hour.”

“Then, that settles it. He’s coming with us,” she decided. “Everyone, be ready to move.”

Inathi glanced at Antonio, then conceded with a shrug. “Very well.”

“Yes. Though, there is one other matter…” Malabo looked back down at Antonio. “If he is to fight, it would be best not to have certain ‘distractions’…” He waved vaguely at Antonio’s covered crotch.

Antonio blushed profusely. Perhaps it was a good thing he couldn’t talk…

General Fajardo surveyed his state. And then, snorted. When everyone stared in surprise, she shrugged. “I’m an Isla woman, I fully understand the unquenchable need for sex.” She turned to leave. “Quiara, Danilo, you’re entrusted with this segment of his ‘recovery’.”

“Yes, General!” Quiara affirmed excitedly.

“You have half an hour.” And, she left them to it.

“You’d better be done by then…” Inathi muttered.

“Don’t sound so jealous, Principal,” Danilo flirted, to which they sucked their teeth at him before leaving.

Malabo smiled down at Antonio, and caressed his face one more time. “I will return to finish healing you later. I wish you the best in your ‘recovery’.”

Antonio swallowed, then nodded. Malabo stood to leave, and Antonio watched him go.

“Who’s up first?” Danilo asked.

“I’m claiming that pleasure.” Quiara stepped into the canoe, pushing Antonio’s hands out of the way before straddling him. She ground against him, causing him to stiffen harder. “Consider this consolation for your injury, Toño. But, don’t make a habit of it.”

He placed his hands on her hips while she unlaced his pants, but he turned his head to stare after Malabo’s retreating figure.

Malabo looked over his shoulder, smiling at him one more time before he disappeared from view.

***(The Revenant River, approaching the Gluttonous Swamp)***

After thoroughly resolving that particular ‘issue’, their band of six set off for the Gluttonous Swamp late into the night. Malabo spent that hour on the river completing Antonio’s healing, and by the time they finally neared their destination, he was well enough to move.

It was past midnight when Antonio finally sat up in the canoe, clearing his throat.

Malabo touched his cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he answered, his voice still raspy. 

“Good. You should regain your voice fully by morning.” He used the ball of light he’d created with his staff to examine his neck. “Your throat will bear a scar. Which I can heal for you with time. Unless you prefer to keep it,” he snickered, “It would certainly look, ah, ‘rugged’.”

Antonio chuckled raspily. “I’ll consider it.” He met Malabo’s eye. “Thank you. For everything.”

Malabo grinned brightly. “It is the place of a bojiammó to heal what ails.” Then, the grin softened. “You would do the same for me, I am sure.”

Antonio gave him a grin of his own. “I would. Without question.”

“Oh, you’re up,” remarked General Fajardo, who had been sculling from the stern of their canoe. “He’s up,” she called to the other canoe. She released the oar and walked the short distance to his place in the middle. “Do you feel rested enough for action?”

“Yes, General.”

The General nodded stoically. “Good. I need you at your best.”

Inathi sculled their canoe closer, and Danilo addressed him, “Toño. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes. Better enough to fight.”

“Good.” He smirked. “You’re welcome for that, by the way.”

Antonio snorted and rolled his eyes. “I suppose you did help a little…”

“More than a little,” Quiara noted in amusement, “I hope it did help you because I am sore as a horse-rider.”

“Is that all you feel?” Danilo jested, “I feel like I was stabbed with a spear all the way up where the clouds don’t rain.”

Antonio snickered. “Sorry.”

“We wouldn’t have it any other way.” Quiara reached into their canoe, picking up a sheathed sword. “We saved this for you from Leviathan Beach. You seemed to take a liking to it.”

Antonio took it. He lifted it slightly from the sheathe, and smiled when he recognized the Reyes Mau on the blade. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. Now,” she started giggling, “see what I picked!”

She reached down into the canoe, wrapping both hands around something…

“Come to Mami!”

…And, came up with a heavy repeating crossbow. 

Antonio stared at the massive weapon in astonishment. It had an extensive chamber for holding multiple arrows and a cocking lever for continuous shooting. “That thing’s almost as big as you…”

“I know!” She petted it. “Isn’t it perfect?”

“I wonder if this counts as ‘compensating for something’,” Inathi pondered.

“I don’t compensate for anything.” Quiara smirked at them. “But, perhaps that’s something that requires a ‘hands-on demonstration’… Interested…?”

Inathi raised an eyebrow at her. “Did you not just say you were sore?”

“Sometimes, that makes it better…”

“And, here I thought Danilo was the flirtatious one.”

“Weapons excite her,” Danilo chuckled. 

But just then, an odd grunt sounded out from behind them. 

What the hell…? Antonio turned around confusedly…

…And, spotted a monkey on the shore.

The brown-furred mammal stared him down. In Malabo’s light, its pointed snout looked like a black skull, and its eyes looked like balls of fire.

It grunted again.

Then, more monkey-faces appeared.

On the shore. In the trees… And, on the opposite shore and trees.

They were everywhere. 

Antonio pushed himself to his feet. “What are those…?”

Malabo looked around, concern plain on his face. He clutched his staff as he answered, “Drills. They are not usually hostile, but… something is wrong with these ones.”

One of the monkeys screamed. 

Antonio unsheathed his new sword while everyone else gathered their own weapons.

All around them, drills were grunting and screaming, displaying rows of sharp brown teeth. 

One of them screamed from above. It launched itself from the trees, and landed right onto Antonio’s canoe. 

General Fajardo wasted no time. She brought her sword down and sliced its head off.

More monkeys screamed.

The General shouted, “Guard yourselves!”

Another launched itself from the shore. Antonio stabbed that one midjump, but another landed behind him, grabbing his leg. He tried to kick it off, but it held strong. “G-Get off!”

FLINK

Suddenly, it was shot through with an arrow.

Antonio looked over to the other canoe, watching Quiara pull the cocking lever on her massive crossbow to shoot another drill.

FLINK

Then, she pulled it again and spun around to shoot another.

FLINK

“I like this thing,” she giggled giddily. “Ah!” But then, she staggered when one landed on her shoulders.

Inathi was able to knock that one off of her with their iklwa, and Quiara flipped around to shoot it dead-on.

FLINK

“Do not like these things!” She retrieved more arrows to reload the weapon. “If I die to a band of monkeys, I’m going to be extremely pissed off!”

“Argh—!” General Fajardo struggled to maintain her footing while one drill clambered over her head and another hung from her wrists.

SHPEW

Malabo shot the one on her wrists with a ball of magic, sending it flying into the water with a scream. Antonio rushed forward, raised his sword, and sliced the one on her head, beheading it instantly.

The General tossed the headless corpse away, nearly losing her footing in the canoe again. She righted herself with a snarl, “This is why I’m not an Admiral!”

“What do we do!?” Antonio asked.

“I’ve had enough of being outmatched on the water!” She grabbed the oar at the stern. “Everyone, get to shore now!”

The General and Inathi sculled their canoes to the leftward shoreline while the rest of them defended. Once they made landfall, everyone scrambled onto the ground, making a defensive circle as the monkeys surrounded them.

“That’s better… Alright, drills,” the General announced, “Now, let’s fight!”

The screaming monkeys advanced slowly, and everyone raised their weapons…

SHOOM

Suddenly, there was a burst of light, making the drills freeze in their tracks.

Everyone turned, shielding their eyes as they searched for the source.

Antonio spotted a hooded figure further up the shore. 

The figure raised an obsidian staff, longer but not dissimilar to Malabo’s. The white light at its top brightened, then shifted to green… and an air of calm enveloped them all. 

The monkeys ceased their assault, retreating back into the trees.

As the figure’s light dimmed to a glimmer, their face became visible… revealing that of a grumpy-looking, yellow-eyed old man with Baleppo scars. He advanced towards them, supporting himself with his staff as he walked.

“Typical Imperials—attack first, ask questions after,” he grumbled in a Hudulese accent. He used his staff to examine a monkey-corpse shot through with an arrow. “You know that the Hudu drill is an endangered species?”

Everyone glanced at Quiara. She looked between him and her crossbow, then sheepishly slung the weapon over her back. “In our defense, it was them that attacked us.”

“Take it as a lesson not to go where you don’t belong.”

…What was that supposed to mean?

General Fajardo stepped forward. “Are you with the Trinity?”

“I am,” he answered curtly. “Witch Fernando of the Holy Order of Dark.” He reached into his black robes and pulled out a trifariam. So, he indeed was a converso.

“What are you doing out here, Witch?” Antonio asked. He didn’t imagine the monkeys made for very faithful churchgoers… 

“Communing with the spirits, raspy,” the witch sassed. He started walking away, and the party was forced to follow. “Determining the link between magics. The connection between my new God and my old ones.”

“So, you’re syncretic,” Quiara concluded. 

That didn’t surprise Antonio. Religious syncretism was common in the Maelstrom Isles. It was part of what made them such agreeable vassals to Ravarra.

“Sharpest arrow in the quiver, this one…” Witch Fernando sassed again. 

General Fajardo cleared her throat. “Well met, Witch. I’m—.”

“I know of you, Roana Elena.” He peered over his shoulder, surprising Antonio when they locked eyes. “And, you, Antonio Marcelo.” Then, he looked at the others in turn. “Quiara Maria. Danilo Santiago. Malabo of the Dupe Dynasty needs no introduction. Even you, Inathi of the Mandela Dynasty.” He looked forward. “I know of you all. My sisters in the faith know of you all. And, we know why you’ve come.”

“And, why is that, wise Witch?” Malabo asked. 

“For the same thing that incites aggression in the drills.” He lifted his staff.

SHPEW

He shot a ball of light into the sky, illuminating the area.

The Gluttonous Swamp was an amalgamation of thick brush and twisted trees forming a canopy that hid them from the sky, much like the rest of the Hudulese jungle, but much murkier. It diverged amongst waters as iridescent as the holy cenotes in Ravarra.

A typical haunted swamp if Antonio had ever seen one. It reminded him of certain ‘other’ haunted swamps back home whose names he wouldn’t dare bring to mind. Hopefully the drills were the only ‘furry locals’ in this one…

Antonio spotted an adobe hut sitting further along the shore, and that appeared to be where Witch Fernando was leading them.

“The same thing that has driven the Progenitor from its home,” the witch continued, “You seek knowledge pertaining to the Beast of Scale and Ivory.”

“Ivory.” General Fajardo nodded. “Yes. Can you help us defeat it?”

But, the witch turned a glare on her, his yellow eyes piercing as he sneered.

“And, why should we help you, Roana Elena? What is to stop you from inflicting further suffering on the people of this island?”

…What?

That made the General scowl. “And, what exactly does that mean…? Ivory’s coming was not my doing.”

“This was entirely your doing,” he countered, “The pain and suffering of the people of this island you pretend to value rests fully on your hands. All of you. And, the entirety of your Imperialist dominion.”

“Preposterous!” Quiara argued, “We’re here to protect the people of this island! They are valued subjects of the Empire just like the rest of us!”

“How can you even say such things?” Danilo demanded. “You’re a converso! You’re one of us!”

“Adhering to the religion of a state does not necessitate adhering to the state.”

They reached the hut, and Witch Fernando turned to cast his yellow-eyed gaze upon them all.

“You are symptoms of a plague that masquerades as a panacea. The fangs of a snake pumping venom into this land while simultaneously bleeding it dry.” He looked squarely at the General, “You, an outlander in command of an army whose presence exists predominantly for the purpose of keeping the natives in line.”

General Fajardo started to visibly seethe.

The witch looked at Quiara. “You, a distant cousin of this land, hypocritically fighting for a dominion not unlike the one your ancestors fought to be free from the shackles of.”

Quiara scowled.

He turned to Danilo. “You, a willing victim of the snake oil scheme, now donning the merchant’s robes in order to hawk the venom to the rest of your ignorant subjects.”

Danilo shook his head in disbelief.

Then, the witch turned to Antonio, making his breath stop. “And, you, a privileged Prince populating a profusion of palaces, consuming from cornucopias and fornicating with frivolity, and somehow lamenting your luxurious lot in life.”

…Antonio was speechless.

Was that… really what he was?

The witch turned on Malabo. “Even you, a complicit native royal benefiting from the influence garnered by your station, blind to the fact that you are what is causing the common people you claim to serve to be exploited by this officious Empire.”

Antonio tried to meet his eye, but Malabo only stared at the ground sadly.

Finally, Witch Fernando turned to Inathi. “And, you…”

He pointed his staff at them. Everyone tried to go on the defensive, but he cast his spell before anyone could move.

SHPEW

It hit Inathi square in the chest. Right where their blood diamond necklace was housed, Antonio realized. And then, a familiar moaning emanated across the swamp.

The translucent red ghosts crawled out of the ground, floating ominously in the air with their tools and weapons in hand, and their various ailments and injuries on display.

“Did you ever tell your Imperial ‘friends’ why you sought the aid of Grand Admiral Nieves against your Prince brother?” Witch Fernando inquired, “The true reason why the blood diamond and the souls trapped within adorn your person?”

Antonio and the others observed Inathi. Their head was downturned, and across their face was an expression of outright shame. They took a breath in and released it, then began to speak without meeting anyone’s eye.

“The Grand Admiral is Mesuli’s greatest partner in the blood diamond trade. I knew that the only way to dethrone my brother and cease his enterprise without earning the Imperial Viceroy’s ire was to give him something he couldn’t refuse.”

“Ivory…” Antonio deduced, “A pathway to toppling the Shurylian Government and conquering a new vassal state for the Empire…”

“That’s not all…” They shook their head gravely. “In order to create a potion strong enough to incapacitate a creature like Ivory, and to be able to face it in battle, I needed a great repository of power that I did not possess. I needed… an enhancer. I needed…”

They reached into their tunic and retrieved the red gem.

“…This.”

The entire swamp grew quiet as the implication of that was presented.

Antonio looked around at the ghosts. “These people… All these people… You…”

“…I led them to this fate,” they admitted, “Knowingly.”

They started to walk amongst the souls of the imprisoned.

“I did not force them. I told them of the risks. They came along willingly. But, I still did this.” They looked at the ones with tools. “I sent the miners to their deaths in order to procure the blood diamond, so that I could make my potion.” They looked at the ones with weapons. “Then, I sent the soldiers to bait Ivory into a trap. I sent them to their deaths so that I could have this chance.”

They stopped in front of the red sentinel who was mostly intact, staring at her sadly.

“Bongi… My beloved made the ultimate sacrifice. She consumed the potion. And then, let the beast consume her. Weakening it enough for me to use the blood diamond to incapacitate it completely. All so that I could have this alliance with the Grand Admiral, so that I could become Nomarch, and give my people a chance to be free.” They turned away. “But, it was all for naught… I failed them all.”

“You really did all of that…?” Danilo asked, flabbergasted. “To all of these people…? You got them all killed on purpose?”

“Why?” Quiara demanded, “Why would you do this?”

“I made a choice,” Inathi stated, “I thought I had to sacrifice the few to save the many. I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“‘The right thing’, my voluptuous ass.” General Fajardo turned to Malabo. “Did you know about this?”

“No,” he insisted, “I would never have supported this.” He looked to Inathi with a scowl, pointing an accusatory finger. “The way you continue to victimize these poor souls even after death is repulsive! Trapped for eternity in pain and suffering, no chance to depart to the Spiritual Imperium where they belong… It is the type of magic we do not speak of, but all know far too well!”

He was right. This was exactly the type of magic the tutors had taught Antonio about. The type of magic that the world had put aside its differences and banded together to oppose. The forbidden fourth that was eternally in conflict with Light, Dark, and Gray. Magic that originated from the crevice and the Principality Below.

This was Blood Magic. Plain and simple.

This was the magic of necromancers.

“Believe me, I know. I know how wrong it is. And, I would free them if I knew how, but I don’t,” Inathi admitted, “I don’t know how… or even if I can have them pass on to the Imperium. That is why I keep them.” They clenched the gem. “I bear their weight to remind myself what I have done. To make certain I never forget what I did to the people who placed their faith in me…”

“I don’t like it… but I understand,” Quiara admitted, “If left with no other choice, I would do anything… sacrifice anything for my people’s future too.”

“…I understand too,” Danilo agreed. “You were backed into a corner. It was the only option you had.”

“…All because of the Viceroy,” Antonio noted, “Because he profited off of your people’s oppression… And, the Empire profited off of its own ignorance.”

Witch Fernando tapped his staff on the ground, and the ghosts disintegrated, their particles flying back into their crystalline prison.

“No matter how many people are uplifted by your gains, there will always be others who are downtrodden by them,” he told them, “This is the nature of Imperialism.”

Everyone processed in silence…

Just then, a shadow appeared in the entrance to the adobe hut, drawing everyone’s attention.

It manifested into the figure of a friendly-looking old woman in white robes, with Cim tribal tattoos and bright blue wizard’s eyes. “With whom do you converse, my brother in the faith?”

Another shadow appeared behind her, revealing another old woman in gray robes, emotionless, with cloudy gray sorcerer’s eyes. Instead of Baleppo scars or Cim tattoos, Antonio was surprised to see the intricate face paint of the Ńné Tribe. Ńné tribespeople weren’t originally native to the Maelstrom, instead originating from within the nearby Grand Principality of Ishanes in Quirnon, but due to Pentozi slaving operations during the Exarchate, they now comprised a significant minority in the isles, including here on Hudu.

“Seekers…” The Ńné woman glanced at them all. “Scions…” She locked eyes with Antonio. “The Blood of the Huntress…”

…What did she just say?

Witch Fernando indicated to the newcomers. “My sisters in the faith. Wizardess Isabel of the Holy Order of Light and Sorceress Juana of the Holy Order of Gray.”

A wizardess, a witch, and a sorceress.

Light, Dark, and Gray. The Magical Trinity. So, that was indeed where they got their name. 

Wizardess Isabel stepped forward, smiling almost maternally. “Welcome to our little hermitage, young ones. We so rarely get visitors in the swamp. It is so nice to see it graced with new faces.” She locked eyes with each of them in turn. “But, you did not come for a social visit…”

“Slayers of evil…” Sorceress Juana proclaimed, “Heroes of a would-be age… Aspirant successors to the champions of old…” She added that last one with a glimpse at Antonio. “They seek the secret to defeating the Beast of Scale and Ivory…”

“We have been awaiting you for a long time… And, have you given the answers they seek, brother?” Wizardess Isabel asked the witch. 

Witch Fernando shook his head. “I am not convinced of their worthiness.”

“Wise ones,” Malabo spoke up, “We are flawed, it is true. But, everyone here only wishes to help.”

“Out of the goodness of your hearts, Prince?” Witch Fernando countered, “Or out of concern for the stability of a despotic regime?”

Wizardess Isabel sighed in disappointment. “I sense it… There is much conflict here,” she admitted, “Much uncertainty. And, much temptation. The sin of hubris is especially present.”

“Hubristic. Wrathful. Lecherous,” the witch added. “Sin upon sin upon sin, without a care for how it affects those around them, and yet each of them claiming to be righteous. We have no cause to aid in their quest. We owe nothing to those who are blind to their impact on the world and even then too callous to give a damn.”

“…THAT IS ENOUGH!!!”

Everyone’s heads snapped to General Fajardo as her shout echoed throughout the swamp, startling even the calmed drills in the trees. 

The General started to pace in place. “Complicit… I won’t deny. Hubristic, I won’t deny. Wrathful, I absolutely won’t deny. Lecherous… Culturally insensitive, but yes, I won’t deny. Even blind, I won’t deny. But, callous!?”

She stopped in place, glaring at each of the three conversos in turn.

“I deny. One-hundred souls, I lost on the voyage here,” she told them, “One-hundred souls lost on my watch. One-hundred souls, I carry with me for the rest of my mortal life because I failed to see the danger ahead. I carry them with shame. But, I carry them with honor,” she declared, “I honor them by completing their mission. By seeking justice against that which ultimately caused their demise. I have failed, but I have persevered, and I am here. I am here risking life and limb for the people of this land… while you,” she pointed at the Trinity, “sit here in the mud theologizing! Playing with spirits while your own people… DIE!!!”

Her shout ringed again through the trees.

“I believe in the people of this Empire,” she stated, “I believe in the ultimate good of unity and oneness that it seeks… fails at times, yes, but seeks to inspire. I believe in mutual protection against all of our common foes. That is why I am here. Why I will fight, and if need be, die for all of these people. My people. Our people. So, I will not stand here and take this!” She seethed at them, “I will not stand here and have my commitment to this Empire—to Hudu, to the Maelstrom, to all people of this Empire—questioned by an impotent cabal of—HERMITS IN A HUT!!!”

…Woah.

The silence that followed that speech echoed across the land. 

The conversos of the Trinity stood quietly. They stood and appeared to observe the General. Ponder her closely.

…And then, each of them began to smile. 

“A powerful sermon,” Wizardess Isabel remarked. “A commendable assertion of an exemplary covenant.”

“The sins of wrath and hubris…” Sorceress Juana proclaimed, “transfigure into the virtues of justice and faith…”

“So, we’re just lecherous? Nice,” Danilo mumbled. Quiara elbowed him to shut him up. 

Witch Fernando nodded in approval. “Perhaps you are worthy after all…”

The Trinity looked between themselves, sharing glances of agreement without uttering words. Then, they beckoned the party to follow, and started walking past their hut and further along the shore. 

“Contrary to your belief,” the witch stated, “we have not been ‘impotent’ in this swamp.”

“We have been preparing for your arrival,” the wizardess continued, “We have known this day was coming for a long, long time.”

“Prophesied by fate…” the sorceress stated, “A vision of destiny… A Great Hunt where Prey stalks Predator, and Blood is drawn…”

‘Great Hunt’… ‘Blood’. “You called me ‘the Blood of the Huntress’,” Antonio remembered. “What is that? Were you talking about… Empress Analisa?”

“Analisa the Huntress came to this isle in her youth. She and the Herald,” Witch Fernando explained, “During that time, he gave to her a vision portending the fall of the Maelstrom unless one of their descendants,” he nodded to him, “one who shared her doubts and fears of the future came with an Arsenal like hers to save these isles from certain doom.”

Her doubts and fears… Had she gone through the same internal conflicts as him?

“Well… I guess that makes us the Arsenal.” Quiara nodded amusedly. “I can get behind that.”

“She knew that her Blood would need guidance,” Wizardess Isabel added, “She entrusted us to keep vigil over this isle and its people, and prepare for the inevitable onset of the Great Hunt.”

“Wait…” Danilo stared perplexedly. “She entrusted… you? In her youth? But, that was over,” he counted on his hands, “two-and-a-half centuries ago. How old are you!?”

“Oh, you should know better than to ask a woman her age, Danilo Santiago,” she chided him.

Antonio considered everything they’d said for a moment.

He had come to the Maelstrom to find his role in life outside of his family. Now, he was learning that a member of his family had prophesied his role long ago.

But, this was exactly the kind of role that he’d been training for. A chance to be the sworn defender that he’d always known he should be.

This was his duty. His place in the world.

…He had finally found his purpose.

“Alright…” General Fajardo crossed her arms as they walked. “He’s the Blood of the Huntress, we’re the new Arsenal, I suppose… That’s all well and good, but what exactly have you been doing while we’ve been out on the frontlines?”

“Studying the Beast,” the witch responded, “Learning its habits. Plotting its downfall. And, gathering ingredients for the poison.”

That caught Inathi’s attention. “The poison. You know it?”

“We were able to determine what would weaken it,” Wizardess Isabel answered, “based on the remnants of that which failed before.”

“Oh…” Danilo made a face. “Does that mean… you dug around in its—?”

“Danilo, please shut up,” Quiara groaned. 

 “But, we need the expert to mix it together,” the wizardess concluded. 

The Trinity finally brought them to a stop in a part of the swamp that had been blackened and burned, leading a straight, flat path out of the murky waters and into the distance, with the cloudy sky visible overhead.

“Death and destruction…” Sorceress Juana lamented, “Nature unbalanced…”

“The Beast tore this path when it first arrived,” Witch Fernando explained, “It leads straight to the lava fields at the bottom of Behemoth Peak. This path caused lava to flow straight into the swamp. It is what led the Progenitor to flee and aggravated the drills.”

“But sometimes, what is bad,” Wizardess Isabel noted, “can be used to create good.”

Antonio stopped at the edge of the waterline, pausing when he recognized what this ground was made of. “Obsidian?”

A large patch between the shore and the water was covered in the black rock. In the middle, some sort of large shape, like an oval boulder, had been encased underneath. 

Malabo tapped the rock with his obsidian staff. “There is much magic here.”

“Why did Ivory do this?” Inathi asked. 

“For the same reason your potion failed the first time.” Wizardess Isabel walked forward and touched the encased shape. 

…Wait… 

“Poison was made for one…” Sorceress Juana explained, “but administered to two…”

Antonio gaped. 

Inathi’s hands flew to their head. “It was pregnant!?”

“It has been feasting for two,” Witch Fernando confirmed, “To recover its own strength and prepare to nurse its weakened offspring once it hatches. It encased the egg in obsidian to protect it with heat and natural magic.”

Ohhh…

Inathi fell to their knees, wailing in their native tongue. 

“Hey.” Danilo touched their shoulder. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have! This is all my fault… All those lives… All that sacrifice. Bongi…” they sobbed, “If I had only chosen another monster—.”

“We have no time for regrets,” General Fajardo told them, surprising Antonio. “We’ve all made mistakes that led us to this point. The only thing we can do is try to make it right. Focus on what you’ll do now, in this moment.”

Inathi took a minute to get their breathing under control. They pushed themself to their feet.

They reached into their tunic for the blood diamond, eyeing the gem in contemplation.

They shut their eyes, appearing to center themself, and nodded in determination.

“You’re right.” They opened their eyes and turned to address the Trinity, “You said you had a plan?”

“Yes.”

Witch Fernando pointed down the burnt path leading far into the distance.

“At the foot of Behemoth Peak sits a lava pool known as the Wound. That is where the lava which formed this obsidian came from,” he explained, “Though the Beast of Scale and Ivory worked to create this nest for its egg, it was careful never to touch the lava outright. Based on observation, it is only the shell that keeps the offspring from burning while the Beast itself is susceptible to extreme heat.”

“Leading the Beast to the Wound and coaxing it into the lava will surely kill it,” Wizardess Isabel put in, “But, its reflexes and will to survive are strong. So, we’ll need a two-pronged attack. First, administering the full force of the poison will make it lethargic and clumsy. Next, stealing the egg from its obsidian nest should make it desperate and angry. These combined should create the opportunity to lure it to the Wound and trick it into falling in.”

“The Predator…” Sorceress Juana foretold, “is bested by its Prey… Prey becomes Predator…”

“Does she ever talk normally?” Danilo asked lowly, resulting in an elbow from Inathi.

The wizardess looked up to the open sky. “The Beast will return in the morning, so you must act fast to create the poison. The only question remaining is how to administer it.”

“I’ll toss it into its mouth if I have to. One step at a time.” Inathi stroked their chin. “Alright. This will work. It has to. We should hurry on the poison—mixing it together should be simple enough, but then it has to simmer…”

“Then, the plan is in motion,” the witch announced. He turned to General Fajardo. “What do you say, Roana Elena? Can we work together?”

She looked him up and down. “Fine… But, I didn’t care for that ‘lecherous’ comment.”

He shrugged in concession. “Lechery is the mildest of the sins. It is only serious when pertaining to rapers.”

“Wait,” Danilo stated confusedly, “I thought sloth was the mildest sin.”

“Sloth is the weakest,” he corrected, “In terms of sheer power, lechery is one of the highest, second only to hubris.”

“Then, it’s a good thing we’re faithful now,” Quiara jested. “So, what are the parts we’re each going to play? Inathi’s making the potion…”

“We could use more people,” Inathi suggested. “We’ll still need to coax Ivory along and weaken it fully, and that will be easier with a larger force.”

“Ghost Town is rearmed,” Malabo reminded them. “I am certain my mother will be eager to send aid.”

“That is our part,” Witch Fernando declared, “We will go now to entreat aid from the Queen.” He and his sisters in the faith waved at them all. “God of the Doctrine, goddess Quiana, spirits, saints, and magics watch over you all.” Then, the Trinity turned and went on their way.

“You all do that,” the General stated, “I’ll scout out the Wound.” She turned to Antonio. “Keep watch over the egg, just in case.”

Antonio nodded. Then, he hesitated before deciding to speak up, “I don’t question your commitment. None of us do.”

Her stern expression softened. She looked down the path ahead. 

“…I am committed to this Empire,” she affirmed, “I believe in the good it can do by uniting the peoples of the world… But, unity cannot coexist with avarice.” Her expression became serious as she faced him again. “Grand Admiral Nieves must answer for his crimes. Against Ravarra…” She glanced at Inathi. “And, all peoples of the world.”

With that, she turned and marched down the path in the direction of the Wound. 

“Well, since we’re not doing anything,” Danilo asked Inathi, “need any help with the poison?”

Inathi shrugged. “Only if you’re good with your hands.”

“We’re Imperial squires, Principal.” Quiara smirked. “We’re very ‘good with our hands’.”

Inathi raised their eyebrows, glancing between the two of them, then started to grin. “I suppose we will need something to do while the potion simmers…”

“The potion won’t be the only thing simmering…”

“Danilo, do shut up.”

The three of them left for the Trinity’s hut, and Antonio was left alone with Malabo. 

Malabo smiled. “Who knew that a scathing speech would be the answer to everything?”

“That’s the General for you.” Antonio returned the smile.

Just then, a brightness shined down on them from above. Antonio looked up, and was shocked to see the white light of the moon peaking through the clouds.

“Well, if that isn’t a sign, I don’t know what is.” He turned to Malabo, but found that he had dropped to the ground. He started to bow in a worshipful posture. “Uh, should I give you a minute?”

“No.” Malabo sat back up. “I only needed to give thanks to the gods for bestowing their favor. The light of the moon is significant for us. It is a symbol of protection. So, I thank the spirits for protecting us as they have since the creation of the Suns.”

“I see.”

He looked up at Antonio. “Do you know the story of the Twin Suns?”

Antonio joined him on the ground. “Refresh me.”

“Well,” he began, “in the beginning of Creation, the world was dark and bleak, so the Holiest Nine created Twin Suns to light the land. Rao and Naua assigned their twin son and daughter, Bombo and Yema, as the patron deities of the Suns. Bombo was charged with the First Sun, overseeing its orbit in the first half of the day, and Yema was charged with the Second Sun, overseeing its orbit in the second half of the day.” He looked back up at the moon. “But, Yema soon realized that the heat from both Suns was destroying the world, and would inevitably burn it to ash. In order to save the world, she chose to sacrifice herself and her Sun, convincing the sea goddess, Nahir, to take water from her Fount—your ‘Mar Salvaje’—and drench them both, quenching her Sun’s flame and drowning her to death. Bombo became god of the One Sun.” He looked back at Antonio and smiled. “But, he refused to accept his sister’s fate. And, he saw that the bleakness had returned to the second half of the day, so he came up with a plan. He convinced the death goddess, Rumaysa, to give Yema and her Sun a chance at rebirth. So, they were reborn. The Second Sun became the One Moon, watching over the night while Yema oversees.”

“That’s beautiful.” Antonio nodded. “And, that’s your religion’s Creation Story?”

“It is.”

“I think I can see why syncretism is so popular. That Creation Story doesn’t seem to contradict the Doctrinal one in any way.” He looked at Malabo. “Do you know the Doctrinal Creation Story?”

Malabo crossed his legs. “Refresh me.”

Antonio smiled. “Well, in the beginning, God created the first man and woman, Evo and Adana, and placed them in His Great Garden. He gave them free rein, but warned them never to take fruit from the Forbidden Tree. It was a trial of temptation, and one that the evil forces hiding in the dark corners of the Garden tried to take advantage of. Soon, Adana was approached by a Snake. She tried to seduce her to defy God and take the Forbidden Fruit.” He shook his head. “But, she remained true, overcoming temptation. After that, Evo was approached by a Vulture. He tried to seduce him to take the Fruit, but he too remained true and overcame temptation. God saw this, and was pleased,” he concluded, “He rewarded them with the Inner Power—the magic that resides in all things—and gave them free rein of the entire world.”

“That is also beautiful.” Malabo nodded. “Of course, the Inner Power was only natural magic, yes? Not like the magic I cast.”

“No,” he confirmed, “Magic existed but was only first understood, named, and harnessed by the three Founders in Corazones.”

“Then, you are right that our Creations do not contradict.” He looked back up. “And, I presume that the sun and moon shining through the clouds is a divine sign of favor for you just as it is for me.”

“It is.” Antonio joined him in looking up at the moon. “My ancestor is Arch Sorcerer Gregorio Jurado. He was born before the Darkness fell. He says that back then, the sun and moon were visible almost every day and night. And, the sky too. He says that the day sky is as blue as light lapis lazuli, and the night sky is a black blanket riddled with white stars.”

“I have heard those stories as well. Do you believe the clouds will ever part? That the Darkness will come to an end?”

“I do,” Antonio affirmed. “It has to. I don’t know if I’ll live to see it. But, I believe in my heart that it will.”

Malabo smiled at him. “Your optimism for the future is inspiring.”

Antonio smiled back. He considered what had been said throughout the day before posing a question, “Do you believe in the Empire?”

Malabo seemed to contemplate that before answering, “I believe in you. In your commitment to my people. Prophecy or no.” He chuckled, “After all, not many would take a tusk to the neck and continue to fight.”

“Your people are worth it,” he assured him, hesitating before adding, “You are worth it.”

Malabo’s smile softened. “Then, you are worth it as well.”

Malabo leaned in, opening his mouth slightly while he eyed Antonio’s lips.

Antonio’s heart skipped a beat, but this time, he didn’t back away. He leaned forward to meet him. 

They kissed, and it was like the whole cloudy world disappeared, leaving only the two of them.

They pulled apart and stared into each other’s eyes. 

“Not so bashful now…”

***(Ivory’s Nest in the Gluttonous Swamp)***

Antonio took in the color of the morning clouds as he voiced, “It’s time.”

Malabo nodded. He touched Antonio’s arm affectionately. “We can do this. I know it.”

Antonio shared his nod.

Malabo looked over Antonio’s shoulder, and Antonio turned to see Quiara, Danilo, and Inathi coming down the shore to join them. 

He turned to regard them. “You have it?”

Inathi lifted a glass vial to show him, filled with bubbling green liquid. “Our hard work paid off. Now, we just have to make sure we follow through.”

“And, just in time,” Malabo added, inclining his head. 

Antonio and the others turned, and saw the Trinity emerging from the shadows.

Malabo nodded as they approached. “Did you speak with my mother? Is she sending aid?”

“See for yourself.” Witch Fernando pointed into the swamp.

Antonio followed where he indicated… and was shocked when he saw several canoes sailing their way. And, in the one at their head stood none other than Queen Bisila of Hudu herself.

Malabo exclaimed, then he ran down the shore to meet them. Antonio and the others rushed to follow.

Antonio and the rest reached them just as Malabo was finishing an argument with his parents in their native tongue. “My Queen. What are you doing here?”

King Mölambo was helping his wife disembark from the canoe, flanked by her shadow sentinels, and along the rest of the shore, the Council of Chiefs was disembarking, along with several sporadically-armed locals.

Once she was on land, the Hudulese Queen tapped her goat-skull cane on the ground, adopting a serious expression. “I am going to help end this horror, once and for all.” Malabo tried to argue with her again, but she dismissed him with a snap. “That beast has terrorized my people for far too long. Today,” she stated determinedly, “we get our revenge.”

Antonio met Malabo’s eye. He didn’t look like he approved, but after a moment, he did look resigned, so Antonio bowed his head to the Queen. “Then, I thank you, my Queen.”

The Queen smiled at him. “And, I you, Your Grace.”

“Your Grace!” Antonio turned to see Chief Mbongwe of Port Huntress marching up to him, followed closely from behind by Chief Riokalo of Bloodletter Bay. “What those conversos are saying about the Viceroy—Tell me it’s a lie! Tell me he isn’t responsible for this!”

Antonio shook his head. “It’s not a lie. He truly is to blame for all of this.”

“I told you, you ridiculous woman,” Chief Riokalo spat, “I knew all along that that man was exploiting us for personal gain. It is entirely because of him that so many of my people have been slaughtered. He must pay.”

Chief Mbongwe looked devastated as she processed that information. Then, she scowled in determination. “He will pay!”

Antonio nodded in agreement.

“We will all be avenged,” Queen Bisila affirmed. “But first, we free our home.” She reached out to her son and friend. “Now, Malabo, Inathi, take me to this ‘egg’, and tell me what this plot entails.”

“Well…” Danilo smiled while them and the Chiefs moved along the shore. “That’s quite some ‘aid’ they brought. They’ll certainly be helpful.”

“Helpful if we don’t get them all killed,” Quiara noted. Then, she smirked at Antonio. “But, I have faith in us. Since we apparently have a prophesied hero in our midst.”

“And, a successor to my island’s namesake, no less,” Danilo chuckled, “How does that feel, Toño?”

“Let’s actually win this before we start assigning the ‘hero’ and ‘successor’ labels?” Antonio begged.

“Fine. But, I’m still calling us the new Arsenal now. I call the role of Virgin’s Bane!” Danilo claimed.

“Then, I get to be La Damisela,” Quiara stated.

“Hmmm, I feel like you’re more of a Lady Gata…”

Antonio left them to it as they started to bicker. In one of the further canoes, he spotted the familiar figure of Dolores looking distraught.

He walked down to join her, hearing her snapping at someone in her native tongue. “Dolores?”

She looked at him and bowed her head. “Your Grace. I am terribly sorry. She must have snuck in while I was loading the weapons.”

A tiny head popped up from between the crates… and little Ana beamed up at him. “Antonio! Glōria Imperiī!”

“What are you… doing here?” Antonio asked her.

“I be knight like you!” She waved her tiny slingshot around. “I help defeat ‘it’! I be ‘unnn-stoppable’ like you!”

“Umm…” Antonio pretended not to be amused while Dolores groaned. “Well… maybe you can be in charge of morale.”

“What is ‘morale’?”

“I’ll let your mother explain,” he decided. He said his farewells, and then went to return to the egg.

As he approached, Inathi was finishing giving instructions to the Queen, who asserted, “My sentinels are the fastest runners we have.” She indicated to the women flanking her. “They will lead the beast to the Wound while the rest of us await it there with the egg.”

“Very well,” Inathi agreed. The Queen turned to pass the instructions on to her people. Inathi eyed Antonio before looking down at the egg. “Your voice has healed well.”

“Thank you.” Antonio joined them. “I suppose it’s a good thing I insisted on coming along, no?”

Inathi snorted. “Prophecy or no, I admit you have exceeded my expectations. I know when I’ve been wrong.” They looked sad for a moment. “That has been happening a lot lately…”

“It won’t happen this time,” Antonio assured them. He considered something as he stared at the oval shape in the obsidian… “Have we decided what’s going to happen to the egg once this is over?”

“No.” They shook their head. “I still have to determine the right course of action. Part of me wants to toss it into the lava with Ivory. Another says that I should take it home… Return it to the wild where Ivory never should have left. So that nature can be balanced again.”

“Hmm…” Antonio nodded as he contemplated that. “Fair enough. As long as it’s far enough away from human settlements.”

“Most assuredly.” Then, an amused smirk crossed their face as they shrugged. “Or I could cook it, I suppose. It might be fitting, since Ivory has eaten so many. And, my brother says that elephant snake shakshuka is to die for.”

Antonio laughed. Saying his farewells to them, he went to look for the Trinity, finding them near their hut.

“The Hunt begins…” Sorceress Juana stated as he joined them. “Predator comes for Prey… But, Prey becomes Predator… And, Blood is drawn…”

“Are you prepared to play your part, Antonio Marcelo?” Wizardess Isabel asked.

“Yes,” he agreed before adding, “There’s just one thing… You said that my Hunt would save the entire Maelstrom from certain doom. But, Ivory’s rampage is only affecting Hudu.”

The Trinity looked amongst themselves, words being left unspoken as they shared knowing glances.

Antonio’s heart sank. “…The Great Hunt doesn’t end with Ivory’s defeat… does it?”

“The Beast of Scale and Ivory is but another symptom of the plague,” Witch Fernando informed him, “These Maelstrom Isles have many enemies who would see them in ruin… or use them for their own benefit.”

Grand Admiral Nieves came to mind… “And, the Herald’s vision to the Huntress said that I would defeat them? How will I do that?”

“Only you can answer that.”

Antonio contemplated that for a moment. Then, he nodded in determination. “I will do whatever it takes. I swear it.”

Once everything was set, they all returned to gather around the egg.

“Are we ready?” King Mölambo inquired.

Everyone met each other’s eyes with affirmative nods.

Malabo shared a smile with Antonio, taking his hand in his. “As ready as we’ll ever be.”

“Ah…” Wizardess Isabel spoke up as she and her siblings in the faith looked ahead. “And, not a moment too soon…”

At the sound of running footsteps, everyone looked down the blackened path.

It was General Fajardo, sprinting towards them with a purpose.

…It was time.

“It’s coming!” Once she reached them, she spun on her heel, unsheathing her sword. “It’ll be here any minute!”

“Prepare for battle!” Queen Bisila shouted while her forces armed themselves.

“We will triumph!” Chief Mbongwe chanted, “Glōria Imperiī!”

“Glōria Imperiī!” Ana called.

As others answered the call, Chief Riokalo sighed before shrugging. “Glōria Imperiī…”

“There is no time to lose.” Malabo clutched his staff. “How do we do this?”

“Us magic users will break the encasing,” Witch Fernando explained, “That will be the ‘easy’ part. The tricky part will be lifting the egg out of the ground. For that, we will need more hands.”

“We can handle that part,” Inathi stated, and Danilo and Quiara voiced their agreement.

“Get to it! I’ll take the poison!” General Fajardo reached out her free hand, and Inathi handed her the vial. Then, she looked at Antonio with a nod. “Nice army you’ve gathered.”

“We’re ending this today,” he assured her, “And, avenging everyone we’ve lost.”

“I am counting on it.” She marched forward and stood guard on the path.

Antonio stood back with the others while Malabo and the Trinity surrounded the egg.

As one, they lifted their staffs, crackling with energy, and slammed them into the obsidian. They poured magic into the rock for several moments… but it wouldn’t crack.

“Why isn’t it working!?” Antonio asked, “It should be broken by now, shouldn’t it!?”

“The natural magic is too strong!” Malabo shouted, “We need more power!”

“Where the hell do we find that?” Chief Riokalo demanded. “Do we beat it with our weapons?”

“Wait.” Inathi reached into their tunic, producing the blood diamond. Everyone stared as they ran to Malabo and offered it. “Use this!”

Malabo looked down at it for a long moment. Then, he took it, nodded, and carefully touched it to his staff.

SHING

His magic flared, and the obsidian started to rumble.

It was just like the Trinity had said, Antonio realized. ‘Taking something bad and using it for good.’

Finally, the obsidian split… and shattered with an echo throughout the land.

CRACK

Everyone stood in silence for a minute, staring. Underneath, the white shell of the elephant snake egg sat nestled into the rock. 

…VROOOOO

The sound of an angry trumpet in the distance was immediately followed by the familiar sound of heavy footfalls. 

“Time to move! Let’s go!” Inathi called.

While the magic users poured more magic into the ground, Inathi, Quiara, and Danilo moved to encircle it, putting their hands on its sides and pulling.

The footfalls came closer.

Closer and closer.

Too close… It was too fucking close. “What’s taking so long!?”

“It’s stuck!” Quiara called, “We can’t reach all its sides!”

“Why isn’t anything easy!?” General Fajardo complained. 

“We need more hands!”

King Mölambo and several of the Chiefs and commoners moved in to help, even little Ana.

The General sighed, “Even if they get it out now, that thing is going to slaughter us as we try to move the egg…”

Queen Bisila and her shadow sentinels moved in. “We will hold it off.”

“No.” The General waved her off. “No, my Queen. Your people need you… This is my burden.”

Antonio turned. “General? What are you going to do?”

General Fajardo looked between him, the egg, and the direction of the approaching monster.

She lifted the vial of poison, staring at it gravely.

“…What I must.”

…No.

Oh no!

Antonio gaped when he finally understood. “No! No, you can’t—!”

“It had to be administered somehow…”

“General?” Quiara called.

“You can’t do this! I won’t let you…” Before he knew it, Antonio felt tears starting to fall. “I can’t do this without you!”

“You can and you will.” She stared him down sternly. “That’s an order.”

Then, her expression turned sad.

“General!” Danilo called, “What are you doing!?”

“Do not stop pulling!” King Mölambo shouted.

General Fajardo placed a hand on Antonio’s shoulder. “Seek the justice that I cannot. For all of us.”

Antonio forced himself to stop crying, taking a moment before finally giving her a nod.

She squeezed. Then, she let go and stood back to salute him.

“It has been an honor to train you, Antonio… My Prince.” To the others, she called, “It has been an honor to know you all.”

Queen Bisila placed her hands on the General’s shoulders, kissed her cheeks, and then stood back with her sentinels.

The General looked back down at the vial, and without further hesitation, she lifted it, uncorked it… and started to drink. 

Antonio gasped shudderingly. He ran for the egg, gently pulling Ana out of the way and placing his hands on the last open side.

With all of his strength, he pulled…

Pulled and pulled…

…Finally, the obsidian underneath broke, and everyone pulled one last time.

CRACK

…And, the egg was finally free. 

VROOOOO

Antonio turned around, gasping when he saw Ivory charging straight for them, trumpeting in desperate anger. 

The Trinity magically levitated the egg out of the ground, and everyone scrambled to get out of the way.

Antonio stood with Quiara, Danilo, Malabo, and Inathi for a brief moment, looking at General Fajardo. Then, he grabbed Malabo’s hand. “We have to go! Now!”

Their party and the Queen’s forces circled out of the way, standing at the sides of the path, preparing to run.

General Fajardo stood in the middle, directly in the face of the onslaught.

She finished downing the potion, tossed the vial onto the ground and shattered it, then lifted her blade as Ivory bore down on her.

“Glōria Imperiī!”

At that, everyone moved, running along the sides of the path out of the way of danger.

The last Antonio saw of his General was her thrusting into Ivory’s maw as it closed around her before he forced himself to turn away, running past the scene, headed for their final destination…

***(The Wound)***

Antonio stood in front of the bubbling pool of lava, his companions surrounding him, the egg sitting to the side.

“I can’t believe she’s really gone…” Danilo lamented.

“How do we do this without her?” Quiara asked.

Antonio met their eyes. “We follow her final order. We complete her mission.”

After a moment, they both shared their agreement with nods.

“We will honor her sacrifice,” Chief Riokalo affirmed.

“She will be remembered for what she did for our people,” Queen Bisila concurred, “and for the future of Hudu.”

Everyone nodded resolutely.

Finally, they heard crashing through the trees. 

VROOOOO

Antonio took Malabo’s hand. “No matter what happens, I want you to know… Coming to this island and meeting you was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Malabo smiled. “And once this is over, we will have all the time in the world ahead of us. Together.”

They looked back ahead at the path to the swamp.

Queen Bisila’s shadow sentinels sped out of the trees, one, then the other.

Then, Ivory appeared, thrusting forward with its tusk and clipping the second one with its tusk.

The Queen jumped, but Inathi held her back.

The sentinel fell with a shout, staring up at the monster as it rose.

Ivory opened its maw, preparing to strike… then tripped, collapsing onto the ground with a weak trumpet.

“It work!” Ana shouted gleefully.

It had worked… Glory to the magics.

The first sentinel pulled the second to safety as the beast tried and failed to stand, breathing heavily and trumpeting weakly. Lethargic. Clumsy. It almost looked pitiful. 

Antonio didn’t pity it. “Get ready…”

Inathi held the blood diamond out to Malabo. He pointed his staff and tapped it with the tip.

SHING

Chilling moans sounded out as the red souls of those who sacrificed themselves to defeat this monster pulled themselves from the ground.

“Oh,” Chief Mbongwe exclaimed, “How convenient.”

“I will explain everything later,” Inathi promised, eyeing the soul of the sentinel, Bongi.

“This is the Haunted Isle,” King Mölambo responded, “We are not afraid of ghosts.”

Everyone stood in position, weapons drawn, still as statues, waiting on Antonio’s word…

And, he gave it. “…Attack.”

Bloodcurdling screams emanated as the soul of Sentinel Bongi led the red ghosts in a charge.

Ivory’s head jolted in alarm, and it fought to push itself to its feet.

Everyone else charged behind them, but Antonio stayed behind with the egg, flanked from a distance by the Trinity.

Ivory flailed around clumsily in an attempt to crush the ghosts. Then, it trumpeted in pain as the Hudulese people attacked with their weapons.

It growled long and low when Chief Riokalo stabbed deep into its underside, but Chief Mbongwe tackled him out of the way before it could swivel around to snap at him.

BZZHHH

Malabo shot it with lightning, causing it to jolt again, then it trumpeted in pain when Inathi sliced its foot with their iklwa. They sliced at it several more times.

But, Ivory gained a sudden burst of energy, lashing out with their tusk and catching them in the ankle.

Inathi collapsed with a shout, and the monster turned on them with a hiss.

FLINK

Before more harm could come, Quiara caught Ivory’s attention by shooting it several times with her repeating crossbow. “Over here, you cunt!”

FLINK FLINK FLINK

While Danilo pulled Inathi out of the way, Ivory trumpeted angrily, attempting to turn on Quiara.

“Glōria Imperiī!” Ana ran forward, her slingshot armed with a rock, and she aimed it, released… and hit the beast square in its left eye.

VROOOOO

Dolores scrambled to get her daughter out of the way as Ivory stamped its feet in pain.

Just then, grunts sounded out, and Antonio could hardly believe his eyes as he saw the drills emerging from the swamp, grunting and screaming.

They jumped to attack the monster that had ruined their home. Ivory growled angrily as it tried to fight them off.

Then through the chaos, Queen Bisila walked forward, as if on a stroll.

Ivory opened its maw, but the Queen of Hudu lifted her goat-skull cane like a weapon and swung it.

CRACK

Its right fang broke from its mouth, flying out and clattering onto the ground.

VROOOOO

King Mölambo and the sentinels pulled the Queen out of the way as Ivory trumpeted furiously. That was when Antonio heard a sound like thunder, and looked up to see familiar shadows zipping through the clouds…

…SHRIIIEEK

The kongamato broke through the clouds, the Progenitor leading its offspring in formation as they dove for the monster on the ground.

Ivory trumpeted painfully as they descended with beaks and talons.

Everyone backed away as it was distracted by the other monsters.

Antonio shared a nod with the Trinity. The three of them pointed their staffs, and magically levitated the egg until it was floating over his head.

This was it…

Now or never…

“…IVORY!!!”

As if knowing its name, the beast ceased its attacks, and set its one good eye on Antonio.

He stood his ground. He reached up with his sword and tapped on the levitating egg tauntingly. 

Ivory hissed… Hissed again…

…VROOOOO

And then, it charged.

Antonio stood firm as the beast bore down on him.

This was it. This was what he’d been training for.

He was an Imperial squire. A soldier of the Empire on which the clouds never parted. A sworn defender of all people who put their faith in his family’s rule.

He was the foreseen protector of these Maelstrom Isles, and this was the first mission he was to complete on his prophesied Great Hunt.

This was his purpose. His place in the world.

This was his duty.

And, he was going to fulfill it.

Ivory stampeded towards him.

It got closer…

Closer… 

Closer…

VROOOOO

The beast pounced into the air, opening its maw to envelop him, its one remaining fang glistening menacingly.

But at the very last second, Malabo appeared.

He pointed his staff… and magically pulled Antonio out of the way. 

“Oof—!” Antonio stumbled into Malabo.

They helped each other right themselves. Then, they turned to the Wound. 

VROOOOO

Ivory was on the edge, slipping, trumpeting in alarm as it tried to hold on with its flat feet.

One foot caught on a rock, and it trumpeted again as it tried to pull itself up.

The two Princes shared a look. They walked forward, and stopped in front of the beast.

Ivory glared up at them with its one good eye, hissing threateningly.

As one, they placed their own feet on top of the larger one… and shoved.

VROOOOO

The beast fell.

Trumpets of agony echoed out as it hit the lava.

VROOOOO

It struggled for several long moments, trumpeting all the way. It started to sink, first its tail and gyrating belly, then its neck, and its ears.

VROOOOO…

Ivory released one final trumpet as its face descended, pointing its trunk to the sky before that too disappeared under the lava.

And then…

…Nothing. 

Antonio and Malabo stared down as the egg was lowered onto the ground beside them. Malabo touched Antonio’s shoulder, sharing a grin with him.

A giggle sent little Ana barreling into Antonio’s legs with a hug, followed closely by her exuberant mother. Malabo’s own mother and father joined them, sharing hugs with their son.

The Progenitor flew down the burnt path, leading the kongamato back home to the Gluttonous Swamp, and Antonio could hear the drills grunting in the distance.

Chiefs Riokalo and Mbongwe led their fellows and the Hudulese people in a victorious chant, and the Trinity standing off to the side was all smiles.

Quiara and Danilo came over to join them, and Inathi followed closely behind, supported by their iklwa. They locked eyes with the red ghost of Sentinel Bongi before she and the other ghosts disintegrated, and Inathi returned their attention to the others.

Antonio’s party of five… his ‘New Arsenal’ shared smiles amongst each other.

They had done it.

They were free.

A warm heat enveloped them from above, and everyone looked up at the sky as the sun poked through the clouds. 

***(Present Day, 3019 CR)***

Thunder claps loudly as you return to your own mind.

“And, there you have it,” Arch Sorceress Andrea tells you, “The elephant snake was defeated, and the day was saved. Antonio completed the first part of his prophecy, and went on from there to begin his Great Hunt.”

The Arch Sorceress watches you, her smile growing, and more thunder claps as she chuckles.

“There is much we could discuss—the egg, the Grand Admiral, the Great Hunt as a whole—but I believe I know which part caught your attention… When I first showed you a glimpse of the Thousand-Year Darkness, I described it as an era of unending rain and blood. Perhaps you did not expect that description to have been literal.”

She turns to the crackling fire, her bright gray eyes reflecting and encompassing the flickering orange light.

“Antonio would not live to see the end of the Darkness, nor of the Empire. But, he knew that they both would end, as Empires and darkness always do. And in the time that he had, he never stopped fighting, never stopped being a sworn defender to all of his people. Even as the world continued to be shrouded in darkness.”

Her bright eyes then turn back to you and once again stare directly into your own.

“Can you imagine it? Hundreds of generations that lived and died without ever having seen the sky or stars. My trainer and predecessor, Arch Sorcerer Guadalupe, was born in that age. He was an Imperial converso, in fact, though he was from the Fabian States, not the Maelstrom. He would tell me stories about the Darkness. And, stories he’d heard about the earlier days from his own predecessor, the aforementioned Arch Sorcerer Gregorio Jurado. The Darkness was a direct result of the enemy that they faced in wave after wave without end… It was a time of eternal conflict, both on the ground and in the sky.”

As if on cue, several claps of thunder sound out in repetition.

The Arch Sorceress watches the ceiling. “Speaking of storms… and elephants… To quote one of my favorite Quirnosi proverbs, ‘It is time that we addressed the elephant in the room’… This is not a normal storm.”

Running footsteps echo up from the stairs, and then into the room bursts a familiar curly-haired figure.

“Arch Sorceress!” Gilberto Herrera stops to catch his breath. “We—We think we’ve discovered what’s causing the storms!”

The old Arch Sorceress sits forward. “Do tell…”

“Benedicto and I were… um… spending time together in a storage room the day before yesterday,” he blushes as he explains, “We knocked over a box and found this… strange artifact. He took it to study it, and that was when the storms started… I think it’s cursed.”

Arch Sorceress Andrea sighs, “Very perceptive, young master Herrera…”

“The others thought so too. Yazmin called for the Antiquarians, and when they arrived, Benedicto went outside to give it to them, but,” he shudders, “he—he—he just started floating! And, his eyes were glowing red!”

“Blood Magic.” The Arch Sorceress rises to her feet, and you do as well. She extends her hand to you. “Come, my friends, let us save young Wizard Madera from himself.”

Gilberto takes your free hand, and then the three of you advance towards a shadow in the corner of the room.

SWOOSH

Your entire world turns to shadows as the Arch Sorceress leads you in traveling through it. You flow past a million shadowy images, until you fly towards one in particular...

SWOOSH

Regaining your footing, you emerge from under a tarp in the Mender’s Bazaar. The area has been cleared of hawkers and buyers, and is now warded off by a giant magical bubble being cast from outside by red-clad magic users.

Inside, you see the dragon, Incendio, roaring upwards. Sure enough, Wizard Benedicto Madera is floating near the top, his entire body shimmering with a red aura. He is surrounded from the ground by red-armored knights.

“These are members of the Antiquarian Order,” the Arch Sorceress explains to you as the three of you approach, “Ravarra’s knighted antiquaries trained specially to investigate haunted locations and handle cursed objects. It was smart to call them. The Palace could’ve been overrun by this curse otherwise.” Once you enter the bubble, she calls out, “Your Grace.”

“Arch Sorceress.” The Crown Prince Esteban Reyes turns to you all, flanked by Lord Ignacio and Lady Yazmin. “The Antiquarians have it contained, but they believe the situation may still worsen before it gets better.”

“Typical of such things…” The Arch Sorceress eyes Benedicto in the sky, and her eyebrows raise, then she starts to grin in amusement. “My friend, look there. Do you see it?”

You look up. In Benedicto’s hand is a glimmering red gemstone attached to a necklace. It takes you only a moment to recognize it—Principal Inathi’s blood diamond.

“Hidden away in a storage room in the Founder’s Palace. The magics certainly do have a sense of humor.” She looks up at the stormy sky. “It appears that it absorbed fragments of the Darkness before the clouds parted. Not unheard of for magical artifacts from that time. Of course, since that is the blood diamond, that means—.”

SHING

Particles of red light explode from the gem, scattering on the ground.

“Well, that doesn’t seem good,” Yazmin muses.

Chilling moans echo throughout the bubble, and the familiar ghosts of the rural Zukoan miners and soldiers clamber out of the ground, led by the figure of Sentinel Bongi.

“No.” Ignacio retrieves his wand. “Not good at all.”

Incendio roars at them, and they release their bloodcurdling screams before advancing on you all.

“Without a purpose, they’re just angry spirits,” the Arch Sorceress explains as the Antiquarians rush to meet the ghosts in battle. “They will attack anything and everything that disturbs their slumber.” She turns to the Prince’s retinue. “This will go faster if we help.”

“Of course Victor’s Godmother had to get married ‘this’ week,” Prince Esteban grumbles, retrieving his magical scepter. “Let’s go!”

Incendio roars again as they advance.

Arch Sorceress Andrea flashes her wand out, and an Antiquarian cart roles up to you, filled with enchanted swords, bows, wands, and staffs. “Pick your weapon of choice, my friend. The proverbial storm is coming.” Then, she rushes off to join the battle.

You pick your weapon, and go to face the onslaught.

One ghost flies towards you, but you dispatch it, sending its exploding particles back to its crystalline prison.

Another advances, and you dispatch that one. Then, another. Then, another.

SHPOO

One that nearly caught you unprepared explodes as it is shot through with light. You turn to see Prince Esteban with his scepter raised, who nods at you.

Then, he looks over, and his eyes widen. “Ohh fuck…”

You follow his gaze… only to see an all too familiar trunk peaking out of the ground.

The ghostly red form of Ivory the elephant snake clambers to the surface, its soul seemingly having been trapped in the gem at death. It lifts its trunk and trumpets loudly, drawing the attentions of both living and dead.

But then, a final ghost emerges in front of you.

It wears a patterned black and white tunic and headscarf with beaded jewelry, and carries a familiar iklwa. You need no introduction.

An elderly Principal Inathi turns to regard you briefly, then lifts their iklwa and charges for their ancient enemy.

Sentinel Bongi and the other ghosts follow suit, releasing bloodcurdling screams as they advance on the elephant snake.

Ivory trumpets angrily as all of the ghosts converge on it, and it jumps into the air to attack…

…And at that moment, Incendio breathes out a cloud of fire, enveloping them all.

All of their particles float back up to the blood diamond, and once they’ve all returned, it glows brightly for the the final time.

SHING

And then, it dims, its curse contained.

The red aura surrounding Benedicto disappears, and he starts to drop.

Arch Sorceress Andrea catches him with magic before he can hit the ground, lowering him safely. The bubble disappears, and Gilberto is the first to run to him, everyone from the Prince’s retinue to the Antiquarians rushing to follow.

As the thunder stops and the clouds begin to part overhead, Arch Sorceress Andrea breaks from the crowd with the blood diamond necklace in hand.

“Young Wizard Madera will be fine,” she assures you, “And now, he has learned the dangers of fooling around with strange artifacts. Though, likely not the dangers of fooling around in storage closets.”

She brings the gemstone up and eyes it intently.

“Such an intriguing twist of fate… The very same artifact we’ve been seeing in our visions right here in our hands. That is no coincidence… The young wizard did have the right idea,” she states, “Such an item should be studied—in a controlled environment set up specifically for the purpose of studying Blood Magic. On that, I must confer with the Antiquarians.” She eyes you with a smile. “What a riveting end to our journey, my friend.”

She pockets the gem, and then clasps your shoulders.

“Thank you ever so much for joining me, my friend. In hearing my stories and in protecting the world from a return to Darkness. If all of our future meetings should wind up like this, we will have many stories of our own to tell.”

She chuckles. Then, she smiles softly.

“I bid you farewell for now, my voyeuristic friend. You will know where to find me when the time comes to meet again. Remember to always feed your curiosity. And, remember that we all still have much to learn in a time that will span forevermore…”

With that, she returns to the crowd, and you go to leave, returning to the Palace through a side door.

Before she disappears from view, you glance over your shoulder one more time, watching her go to fulfill her duty before the door swings shut.