Ariadne and Endaria's Story

The woman that answered the door was not Shiabiann Xao-Li but she was nude from head to foot. Her skin shined from fresh sweat and a heavy smell of incense wafted toward Shein from inside Shiabiann's chambers. The golden hair of her head clung to the sides of her faces. The droop of her eyes as she looked the man over hinted toward heavy and recent drug use.

The naked woman threw her head back in a laugh even before Shein uttered a single word and then looked over her shoulder into the front room.

"There is a man here," the golden-haired woman purred. Feminine laughter echoed from inside. Two more faces crowded the door; a dark-haired beauty with tilted green eyes and a pale skinned woman with shocking electric blue hair and eyes.

"We should invite him in," the blue-haired woman said with a heavy blush on her cheeks.

"Yes, invite him in," the green-eyed woman replied as the naked golden-haired woman opened the door wider.

All three of them grabbed Shein by his arms and shoulders, pulling him inside with their girlish giggles. After he was forced into the room, the door closed with a resounding boom down the hallway. A lock was turned and the golden-haired woman tucked the key away in a most inappropriate place on the woman's body.

Several pairs of hands began to tug at Shein's clothing as if attempting to undress him despite whatever protests he may say. Some of the hands belonged to the women that pulled him into the room and some were new. There were at least ten women surrounding him.

The most striking of them all had ivory skin and vivid purple hair. They both had horns curling back against their hair from their temples. Twin Succubi. They did not touch them man but stood at the far end of the room as the others kissed, caressed, and taunted the Knight. Their golden eyes watched Shein and each of their movements seemed to mirror the other in a precise manner.

One leaned to the other and whispered unheard words. The other nodded and disappeared further into Shiabiann's chambers.

As soon as the door was about to open, Shein had his words all planned out; assuming it wasn't Shiabiann, of course, he would salute, tell whoever it was his name, rank, and meaning for being there, and then hopefully be brought directly to the Magistrate herself.

What ended up happening was, as soon as the door opened, he got about half of his first word out before his mouth simply refused to cooperate. "I..." he stammers before being dragged into the room.

Being a Knight-Errant, and very new to the Order, he hadn't been allowed to deviate from his duties to visit the Pleasure District. Being on the front lines hadn't helped, either. This was every young man's secret fantasy; but despite that, he had to try and protest.

"Please, I-" Before he can speak more, multiple hands start pulling at his clothing. "S-stop that, I-" he tries again. Quite honestly he may have been convinced to help them, if he hadn't seen the two Succubi over in the corner. That terrified the arousal out of him, at least a little bit.

"I-I need to speak to the Magistrate," he shouts, now struggling to at least dissuade the women. Covered in lipstick, sweat, and possibly other things, he didn't look much like a Knight's messenger anymore.

Shein's shouting did nothing but cause the woman around him to giggle even more. They were so amused that he was acting like a virgin boy. The efforts to drown him in pleasure seemed to intensify.

Another woman entered the room from the baths. This woman was by far different from them all and seemed more like a creature than a woman. Blue, green, and turquoise feathers crowned her head instead of hair. Her eyes and skin were golden as if she had been painted from head to foot.

As she came closer to Shein, he would be able to see the scales around her eyes, down her shoulders, and the gentle curvature of her waist and hips. This woman was no woman but in fact something of pure legend.

A Drak-Sen; a dragon disguised as a mortal.

Nyvereth was drawn towards the Knight-Errand and made her way through the gaggle of women surrounding him. She said not a word to the man but she kissed Shein like a woman would to the man she loved. Her soft hands caressed his face and trailed down his chest. Nyvereth began to drop down onto her knees, taking her kisses along with her as she traveled downward.

Soon enough the woman had plucked him from his trousers and was servicing Shein with a lover's care and grace. The other women giggled around them.

"The Magistrate will see you now," Ariadne said as she returned from Shiabiaan's inner rooms. She returned to Endaria's side and the two succubi looked at Shein expectantly.

The man was defeated, not by battle, but by the unrelenting affections of the harem. In his mind, he knew himself lost; staring at the approaching form of the Drak-Sen, he knew he had met his fate.

Were he to have had any other duty, he would have been more than happy about this, but as it were, he could only be defiantly not-entirely accepting of it all. When the Dragon woman's lips met his, he was broken. He had been trained to resist all manners of torture, but this was too much. He simply stands there, gaping, his mind overloaded.

He snaps back to reality as he realizes what she's doing. "N-Noo..." he cries out feebly. He shudders, eyes snapping shut as he experiences that which he could have never dreamed of.

When Endaria arrived with the news that the Magistrate would see him, it was all he could do to look in the direction of the two Succubi. Shaking and probably about to explode from sensory overload, he simply gives them a look of mixed pleading and resignation.

Seldom had such a man as he been taken like this, except in stories that usually ended with them being devoured alive... which wasn't far from the truth, it turned out.

"Nyvereth, no more or the man will have to pay," Endaria said to the Drak-Sen. The feathered-woman immediately stopped before any iota of satisfaction could be fulfilled by Shein. He was left to suffer the pains of passion.

"Clothe yourself and follow," Ariadne said before the mirror-twins turned to walk into the inner chambers of Shiabiann's quarters.

Nyvereth looked at Shein apologetically as she rose from her knees. The women began to dress the knight, and the Drak-Sen did as well too. However, her touch was more kind and gentle than the others. He was seen as a person in her eyes and not just a toy to be played.

The Drak-Sen made direct eye contact with Shein and plucked a feather from her hair. She gave it to him, wrapping his fingers around it carefully. There was no telling what it meant nor what the feather was for. It could have been a simple gift to remember her by or something far more meaningful than that.

Nyvereth did not give him an explanation. The man was dressed and now he was expected to follow.


Shiabiann was in her study balancing coins on a scale. Books shelves lined the walls with books about war, history, and the oddities of sexual desires. There were a few tomes that looked thousands of years old in a glass case beneath the singular window. A lavish purple rug was strewn out on the hardwood floor.

A small pair of spectacles sat on the end of Shiabiann's nose and a pleased smile spread across her face as she removed the coins from her balance.

Ariadne and Endaria waited at the entrance of the room, one on each side of the door. Shein would have to pass between them in order to speak directly with the Magistrate.

With a gasp, Shein is released- he was panting slightly, having tried his damndest to maintain himself during that most trying of times. Gulping and attempting to clothe himself, he looks up to see the women around him were now doing the reverse as earlier, practically throwing his armor back onto him- with the exception of the Drak-Sen, who was markedly more gentle about it. He didn't want to meet her gaze- after all, how did a man simply look at a woman after that- but he did, and his heart wrenched.

Swallowing nervously, he tries to say 'Thanks,' but it comes out as more of a mumbled, stuttering mess. He was blushing like a loon, more so when she gave him one of her feathers. Not really knowing what to think of it, he places it gently in his side-pouch. Maybe later he could pin it to his cap... if he really wanted to remember this story, which, when it was all said and done, what man wouldn't?

Finally dressed, but looking no better for his embarrassed flush, the man walks quickly away from the harem of women and through the doors to Shiabiann's chambers.

He pauses just after walking past the two Succubi, clearing his throat to try and get his nerve back. "M-My lady," he calls out, bowing deeply. He decided he would not rise until ordered, to further give himself a chance to cool down. Appearing before a Magistrate- even that of the Pleasure District- indisposed as he was, would probably be frowned upon.

The Drak-Sen was taken away at the guidance of the other ladies. She looked back over her shoulder at the retreating Shein until she could see him no more. The creature had not spoken a single word to Shein but she felt a connection to the man. Nyvereth hoped that he too had felt it.


Magistrate Shiabiann spoke without drawing her attention away from her desk littered with coins. "I do hope that you have dire news or else I will not be pleased," she said. It was exactly as the man had feared. The smile died away on the Magistrates lips.

"I am a Magistrate of Iracot and there is no reason other than an emergency where a simpleton like the Knight-Errand should come calling on me. If I do not believe this is an emergency then I would fear for your station," Shiabiann warned.

"I will give you one chance to turn around and leave or you may stay and speak your message. Choose wisely knight. I am sure the Knight-Commander would not be pleased if a Magistrate had been bothered from her business of running the city for our God-Queen in order to hear out the frivolities of one, lowly, knight under his employ."

The two succubi stood stationed at the door, staring down at Shein. A leathery tail curled around the man's ankle. Endaria smiled cruelly, hoping to get to play with the man after Shiabiann was done tearing the man to pieces with her words.

Shein's gut was twisting with every word Shiabiann lashed against him. He'd experienced physical torture, but this was somehow much more painful. He waits, not looking at the Magistrate, until she was finished talking to him. Attempting to take a step forward, he looks down at his leg to see it bound by the tail of the Succubus; it makes his shudder, but he swallows and looks back up at Shiabiann. This message needed no written notice.

With the gravity of the situation coming through on his voice, breaking, for the moment, his utter discomfort, he speaks the words he was dreading bringing to her attention; "My lady, Magistrate... the Wards have fallen. Iracot's protection against invasion is gone."

He knew that he would suffer for this, even if it was news that needed to be known. 'Don't shoot the messenger' was an oft forgotten phrase when dealing with the Magistrates.

"Two days ago. I rode here immediately," he adds quickly.

Magistrate Shiabiann remained calm. She placed a perfectly balanced stack of gold coins on the scale and wrote down a number into her books. For a very long moment there was no sound but the scratch of her quill on parchment.

"You rode by land mount," Shiabiann said, breaking the tense silence. If it had taken the man two days travel then it had been by land instead of by sky. That much information was easily deducted by the simple message he bore.

"You rose by land mount when you could have passed the message to a Skybourne who, in turn, could have delivered the message far more quickly," the Magistrate said before she dusted her book with sand to dry the ink.

At some silent command the twin succubi stepped closer to Shein and stood with their shoulders brushing against his. He had been flanked by the two creatures, a compromising position.

"From you misjudgment you have placed not only Iracot at danger, but the entirety of Viridian, Knight-Errand," Shiabiann accused. She closed her book.

"Enjoy the rest of your day. It will be your last before you are brought to trail and burned before the God-Queen. Turn yourself in at first light of the morning. Do not make me come looking for you," Shiabiann warned.

"You are dismissed."

Shien had kept a small, warm place in his body, the moment he'd experienced moments before entering Shiabiann's office; despite the awkward terror he'd felt, it had been admittedly pleasant.

At Shiabiann's words against him, that warmth was replaced by a cold stone. He barely even registered the Succubi next to him. He opened his mouth, briefly, to protest. He could have told her that the Skyborne needed to watch the borders, that they saw no reason to hasten the message when a Runner was available. He was only one of many sent, from the various border forts around Iracot, but he was the only one that he knew of to have arrived as of yet, even so.

But he was smarter than that. Even if he had been completely valid, and could have borne no blame, she would see him killed. Some of the younger, newer Knights had whispered as such when he told Gabriel what news he brought. Even Gabriel had looked upon him with a somewhat pitying expression, he realized.

At that thought, a fire burned in his chest. Gabriel. If he had seen what was going to happen, why did he not come himself? Did he fear the Magistrate would have him killed? If not, then why sacrifice him like this? It was unfair.

Breaking from his thoughts, he bows stiffly to Shiabiann. "As you command, Magistrate," he says. It was the most firm, dutiful tone he had ever used, he found.

If the Succubi allowed him, he would turn and leave, trying not to make eye contact with any of the women. He had to get out of the Palace. He didn't know what he would do; he didn't know what he should do. He felt like a completely different person, walking out of Shiabiann's chambers.

If the women tried to bar his passage with their touching again, he would have none of it. Save, perhaps, from the woman who had given him the feather.

Nyvereth was waiting at the very corner to Shiabiann's chambers. The door had been left opened and the Drak-Sen had heard every word. While she could not speak the humans' language very well, she could understand them very clearly. The sweet man was going to be killed. Nyvereth felt as if she had to do something to save his life.

When Shein walked past her, Nyvereth tugged on his arm to grab his attention. The expression on her face was grave and sad for the man. The sadness was so overwhelming there were tears that glittered in her eyes. Her mouth worked in an attempt to speak to Shein.

"I... s-sorry," Nyvereth managed. She heard footsteps coming down the hall from Shiabiann's office. The Drak-Sen tugged on his arm in an attempt to lead him down another hall that led to the ladies' rooms.

"I... help," she said with a hopeful smile.

Shien still burned with a growing rage at his treatment, fighting with his sense of duty. He almost didn't notice when Nyvereth took his arm. His first instinct was the thrust her away, but when he looked on her face, the anger at everything he felt was quickly twisted into a hurt knot in his belly.

He'd thought the woman to be no more than a pleasure girl, really. That she cared as much for him as any would-be client. His naivety didn't let the thought that she simply wanted what money he had left enter his mind.

She had apologized to him. Thinking she meant for forcing herself on him, he shakes his head sadly. "I- Don't fret yourself," he begins to say, before she's tugging his arm to bring him deeper into the harem.

"I... help," she said. Shien frowns briefly, wondering if she sought to entrap him, bring his end sooner... or maybe she meant to make his final hours enjoyable. Softening his expression, he relents and follows her.

His mind was still reeling from the news of his impending death, but at that moment his thoughts lingered on the woman. What was her game? Shien had never known a thing of political intrigue. Was this part of that? Or did she genuinely have some sort of interest in him? The kiss... he thought, at least, felt meaningful.

Before he knew what was going on, he had been led into the ladies' rooms.

Shein had been led into a tunnel between the walls of the palace. The Drak-Sen waited for the man to appear. Nyvereth checked over Shein, her fingers ran over him and made sure his cloak was closed properly. As she pulled up his hood to cover his face, Nyvereth leaned forward and placed a kiss to his cheek.

That strange swell of emotion for Shein had come back; the same one that had arisen when she had first laid eyes on the man. Now that Shein was almost a physical and mental part of her, he too would be able to feel that overwhelming emotion... if he tried. The man was untrained however and Nyvereth fully intended to train him herself just as the first dragon had done to his rider.

In the semi-dark Nyvereth could see just fine but she knew that limitations that Shein had. His sight would not fare so well and the path was dangerous at spots. Seeing through her eyes would not be any good to him. Instead, a flame erupted from her clawed hand and she held it out for Shein.

"Take it. It will not burn you. No more can fire hurt you," Nyvereth said as she gently took his hand and placed the ball of flame in it. "But beware the cold. It will harm you, and perhaps kill you if great enough." And true to her word, the flame did not hurt Shein.

"Come. There is not much ti-" Nyvereth's words were cut off at the sound of a heavy thump coming from inside her room. She turned to look through the hidden passage. She neared it and on the other side the sound of rocks hitting the stone floor was heard. Nyvereth backed up quickly and grabbed Shein.

"Run! That way! Go!" she urged him in a whisper. Nyvereth pushed him forward, letting him lead while she watched their tail.

It wasn't so much a sudden swell of emotion as it was that he had been riding a wave of emotion ever since the door to Shiabiann's chambers first opened. The shifts had been extreme, from mild fear, to extreme arousal, to nervousness, resignation, adoration, mild worry, back to arousal, and now... well, he wouldn't admit to being aroused, but he was certainly feeling... affection. He wouldn't admit to anything more than that, not aloud. As much as he could sense Nyvereths' emotions, however, surely she would be able to sense his, as well.

He didn't realize that yet, however, in either way. He simply followed, half like a lost puppy following a new owner, and half trying desperately to retain some of his Knightly training and compose himself.

When she handed him the flame, it took him a moment to register that he was physically holding fire. That was something new. He was about to comment, until the sound of the door behind them being beaten in cut him off. Grabbing one of his Flintlocks, he prepared to run back, with gun in one hand and fire in the other, but Nyvereth's words brought him back to reality.

If they had broken that door down, it was probably Shiabiann's Succubi... or something worse. Magistrates had immense power, after all. He, trained only in basic fighting techniques, and in close quarters- with only his pistols and whatever new abilities he didn't know of- wouldn't stand much of a chance.

As much as it pained him to look a coward in front of Nyvereth, he does the more intelligent thing and follows her instructions, bolting down the passage.

And bolt he did, swift as if he knew them by heart. Part of that may have been an influence from Nyvereth, but he was a naturally good runner, and while tight corridors and underground passages weren't his forte, he was skilled at it nonetheless.

There was only the sound of Shein's feet running. Nyvereth had not followed him. She stood by the wall where they had entered into the tunnel. Her back was pressed as far back against it as it could go. The sounds of the succubi climbing through the wardrobe were easily heard.

And then a long pale leg entered into the tunnel, followed by the rest of the succubi. Her golden eyes instantly trained onto Nyvereth and darkened. But Nyvereth did not give Ariadne any chance. In a move quick as lightning, Nyvereth forced her hand into the woman's chest and wrenched out the heart of the succubi.

Ariadne gasped, took a few wobbly steps, and then collapsed like a pile of rags to the stone floor. Blood pooled beneath the woman and Nyvereth looked down at her for a split second. That was how Endaria was able to wrap her hands around Nyvereth's throat.

"You kill her!" Endaria shouted down the tunnel as she lifted Nyvereth up off the floor. The Drak-Sen's feet dangled helplessly as she struggled to find her breath. Nyvereth was strong but succubi were just as strong. It was the element of surprise that had allowed Nyvereth to kill Ariadne.

"Shiabiann wants you alive but I think I will kill you anyway!" Endaria spat at Nyvereth with utter vehemence in her voice. The grip on the Drak-Sen's throat tightened. The color of Nyvereth's face when from a light blush to a dark blue. Her struggles were becoming weaker.

Shein. Help!, a voice called to his mind. Turn around. Shoot! Shoot her!

Endaria's tail lifted behind the succubus, the point aimed at Nyvereth like a weapon.

"I will pluck your eyes from your skull!" Endaria shouted.

Please... please...

Grinding to a halt, the former-Knight twisted and turned around as if he was made of liquid, in one swift motion. Charging back down the passage, he unclips the guards on the two holsters on his belt; Nyvereth's pleading in his mind scared him, but filled him with a fervor that he'd seldom felt among the Knights. The last time he felt it, in fact, was on the long, brutal ride from the Borders to the Capital to deliver news of the wards...

Just as quickly as he had arrived, he was back. He still had the one flintlock in his hand, and he could see Nyvereth was in danger. One of the Succubi lie dead, while the other had her by the neck. It was a nearly impossible shot, with Nyvereth being held in front of the Succubus.

It was a matter of fact that Shein was a young, inexperienced man. Terrible with women, terrible with politics, never picked up a skilled trade. He wasn't even particularly handsome, nor did he have the most engaging personality.

But his skill with his pistols were practically unmatched, for he put all of his effort into training himself to fire them; while on the move, running, on horseback, standing still- long range, close range, repeated fire... it was his one true skill, and he was damned proud of it.

As soon as he had his target marked, he raises the first pistol and fires. Its two shots spent, he tosses it in the air, grabs his second, and fires that as well; then, he slings the flame he held at both of the women. If Nyvereth's words of flame were true, she would be unharmed. The Succubus he didn't know about, but it freed his hands, and he could perform his next trick even in complete darkness.

Grabbing the first flintlock out of the air, he slams it into one holster in time to grab the second as it fell; with the skill of an expert marksman, he reloads the weapon, filling it with the perfect amount of powder, loading the rounds, and giving each barrel a quick three-strike ram. In less than fifteen seconds from first firing, his gun was reloaded.

And he had not been idle. Even as he fired, he was advancing on the Succubus. If she wasn't down or dead from his first barrage, a near point-blank blast to the head usually killed most anything.

There was always a point in time where a person's life slowed down before their eyes. It was always at a moment where life hung in the balance, whether it was their own or another's.

Endaria's life ended but not before she took another.

The Succubus heard the man's footsteps traveling toward them. In those few seconds it took for everything to begin and then end, Nyvereth died. The first two rounds that Shein shot ended up between the ribs of Endaria and his third took her right in the throat. The succubus's tail had lanced Nyvereth straight into her throat then up into her skull.

Nyvereth had only time to make a face of surprise before the light left her eyes and her body went limp. It was dropped to the ground unceremoniously as Endaria staggered back, clutching at her bleeding throat. She gurgled on the blood and looked at Shein in sheer horror.

The succubus fell onto her knees, no longer able to stand on her own.

"P-Ple..." Endaria choked on the blood.

And then her world went black as soon as Shein arrived with one last bullet.

He alone was the sole survivor.

"Nyvereth," Shein cries out in dismay. The two women had fallen to the floor just as the light went out, but Shein still knew exactly where Endaria's head was. Standing over the two of them, he glares down at the silhouette of her body. "I will see you in hell, bitch."

He fires twice into her head. The silence that followed was deafening to him. He stood there for an indeterminable amount of time, still aiming at the dead Succubus. The other had been felled by Nyvereth moments before her own demise.

As he allows his eyes to adjust to the darkness, he slowly reloads his two weapons, keeping his ears open, and his eyes down to the woman who he had only so recently begun to know. "I had loved you," he laments to her, knowing that she was beyond him now. It was naivete and loss that powered his words, but he had felt something for her, undeniably.

Now he was truly alone. He had killed one of a Magistrate's personal... retainers. He was on the run, in the city. He wouldn't be able to reach his horse unnoticed, he imagined. Holstering his weapons, he stoops down and lifts Nyvereth over his shoulder. A shudder wracks his body as her hot blood seeps down his back. So much for the hope of subtlety.

Drawing one of his pistols, he makes his way carefully through the dark. His eyes had adjusted as much as they were going to, he felt.