Six months ago…
The night pressed in on Xenomene as she stood vigil over her sleeping Krey. It was her turn for the Hour of Challenging, a segment of time set aside for someone to stay awake during the night, mindful of silent enemies slipping amongst them. Her breath misted in front of her and a wolf howled in the distance. She twirled her sword lazily in her right hand.
Scrotum of gods, when is my hour up?
She yearned to return to her blankets, to strip off her clothes and sleep. Xenomene wore clothing out of necessity. The only difference between being on the trail with her squad and back in the Hive was that now every once in a while, one of them saw her flesh. She often wondered if they would hound her, but none bothered her thus far, except Bitcher. They couldn’t see her beneath the blankets, and it wasn’t like none of them hadn’t seen someone naked before. But in the Hive, she could bolt the door and had the privacy of her room.
She sighed, wondering when or if she would ever return to her room.
The stars twinkled above, and Auqyn glittered with its pearl luminescence; Faellon had already departed the sky. A movement behind her set her hairs on end, and she pivoted, bringing her sword point just shy of Bitcher’s throat.
“It is unwise to sneak up on me,” she warned.
“I ain’t sneaking, bitch, I was walking quietly as not to wake the others,” he grumbled, his gloved finger pushed the point away. “I’ve gotta piss, and it’s my watch next.” Xeno nodded but didn’t say anything. He sauntered away, standing next to a tree.
She turned away when Bitcher removed his manhood from his pants but cast a glance over her shoulder. He let out quiet moans as he sprayed his stream to and fro, drawing crooked lines on the ground, steam rising from his urine. Xeno rolled her eyes and sighed, turning her head away, wishing to be away from him and the rest of her squad. She didn’t even want to indulge futile thoughts of when she would be alone again. When he finished, Bitcher returned to her side. He grabbed her buttocks and gave them a squeeze before letting go.
Her emerald eyes narrowed, and she turned her head towards him. “Can I help you?”
“You know,” he said at last, “I haven’t had my cock sucked since we left over a moon turn ago.”
“Is that why you are up early? In the hopes I would suck you off before you assumed watch?”
“Well,” he shrugged, “it would be a starting point. You know how we Forgotten Islanders are.” He smiled, teasing her.
Only from what I have heard, though I’m not sure if what they say is true. It would be interesting to find out. She mentally shrugged. Or maybe it wouldn’t. I don’t care now; I just want to sleep.
“Oh, so you want to fuck?” she whispered. Bitcher cast her a sideways glance, but said nothing. “It has been a long time for me. Do you want to fuck me?” Her eyes twinkled, but he was still wary of falling into a trap. “How do you want to do it? Are you going to lay on the ground and I straddle you, or am I just going to bend over? Did you want me to suck your dick before or after you fucked me?”
Hearing Xenomene’s provocative talk excited him, his manhood swelling. He turned to her, but stopped short when the long blade of her knife cleared its sheath and rested firmly against his favorite body part. “If you value your friend as much as I think you do, you will never talk to me about sex again. Understand?”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Yeah, yeah,” he breathed, nodding vigorously.
“Besides,” Xeno returned the blade to her sheath as quickly as it cleared, “everyone knows you got genital warts or some other type of fungus growing on your shit.” Bitcher shoved her, his ego bruised. She continued taunting him. “You should ask Two-Tons. I hear if you close your eyes and have some butter available, it is almost the same.” She let out a huff of air. “You’re taking the rest of my hour for touching my ass. Consider it as payment. Hope it was worth it.”
She patted him on the shoulder and turned to go when a blue light burst into existence outside their encampment. The light faded as fast it appeared. Five wizards stood in a semicircle; their dark robes made the Kothlere sigil on their chests stand out.
Xenomene spun, alacritous, lithe. They found us! she realized with horror. Before the light faded, Xenomene’s blade was free of her scabbard.
“TO ME!” she screamed. The bloodlust took over, and she leaped for the nearest one. The gulf between them spanned over ten meters, but the bloodlust, coupled with her dragon-plate emboldened with runes, augmented her skills. The blade whistled through the air and would have split the mage in half without his barrier enveloping him. In the mind meld, she could feel the other consciousness of the Krey awakening; their rage joined with hers, swords screamed free of their sheaths.
Indistinct shouts cried out in the night as the mages formed a tighter semicircle, backing away from the stirring Krey. Even the A’uri joined the meld now. A glowing barrier shone brightly, engulfing the five invaders.
“STOP!” the mental voice screamed, echoing through the heads of the Krey. Xeno recognized the voice, it belonged to the Mind, the A’uri who controlled the meld. Her bloodlust howled for the mage’s blood, to bathe her steel with their insides, but the power of compulsion from the Mind’s command kept her sword at bay. Slowly, the red veil drained from her, dissipated by the power of the Mind. Her limbs trembled, the adrenaline depleting rapidly.
“We mean you no harm!” the first mage yelled. Weapons grudgingly returned to their sheaths. Xenomene kept hers out.
“We were sent by the consul,” another called out.
“That cunt,” Bitcher shouted back. “That castrated fool is a gutless worm.”
“Don’t call her that to her face,” another responded.
“Her?” Xenomene inquired, perplexed.
“Aye,” the first one spoke again, taking charge of the conversation. “Many things have changed since you left the Hive. There is a new consul, for starters.”
“Oi, that’s just fucking perfect. Instead of that witless cock of a consul, we have his lapdog, a cock-sucking piece of ass for our commander,” Bitcher yelled to the stars.
“Silence, cunt! Let the mage fucking speak!” Xeno shouted back.
“Who are you calling a cunt, bitch?” he replied, pulling his dagger from his belt.
“She’s calling you a cunt, Bitcher, so shut the fuck up,” Raven barked. “Xenomene is also second in command, and you will answer to her as you would me!” Raven trekked to the front of the group and stood beside Xeno. “Forgive my associates; they are schooled in war, not propriety. Please, tell us of your news.”
“Apology accepted, and please forgive us for our abrupt appearance; we did not mean to startle you or teleport so closely. That was an err of judgment on my part. I am John of the Gyles House.”
What’s a minor noble lord doing all the way out here? Xenomene wondered.
When it came to houses and nobility, the distinction was in the way they introduced themselves. Every Krey was taught such etiquette in case any dignitaries visited from Ralloc, which was more often than they admitted. John was of a minor noble family, hence his proclamation ‘John of the Gyles House.’ Had he been of a noble family, he would have introduced himself as ‘John of House Gyles.’
“Arysto,” Raven said with a bow of his head.
“I am not here as an Arysto,” John assured him, “but as John Gyles, Grand Master Wizard of portals.” Confusion blossomed on the faces of the Krey. Even the A’uri were unsure of how to react. “I have been charged by Consul Meristal Raviils, Lady of the Kothlere Council, Lord of Ralloc domain, Commander of the Grand Royal Army, to find you and open a portal for you to Cape Gythmel.” Silence descended upon the gathering. The wizards’ eyes darted between each Krey, shifting uneasily on their feet, waiting for any sign up an impending attack. John took the silence as a sign of mistrust. “I assure you, my intentions are pure. A lot has changed.”
Xenomene was the first to shatter the brittle silence.
“Shades of the Underworld, what the fuck has happened in Ralloc?”