I found myself in a black and endless void. I was completely naked. The ground under my feet felt like only a few inches of water. I was running. I was running as fast as my feet could carry me, yet my movements were slow. It felt like I was a drop of water trying not to freeze and escape the clutches of winter itself. I was in a full sprint yet time forbade me from making an impact. I turned my head to look behind and a colossal hand of a woman reaching from the darkness. It was unmistakably a woman's hand, complete with jewelry befitting a queen. I was filled with a sense of dread. Somehow I knew that if the hand grabbed me, I was dead.

I looked ahead and saw something glowing. It was my banner. It shone brightly like a beacon, calling to me. No matter how far I ran, it felt like I was never going to reach it. I heard a crunch under my feet and looked downward. To my utter horror I found that I was standing on top of a mountain of corpses. They were dried up husks that now I can’t recognize even if they were standing here with me. Yet I knew them. I knew who these people were. They were my friends.

I was so horrified. I tried to run, but the hand grabbed me. It wrapped around my body and pulled me into the darkness. I tried to wriggle free and felt my body being crushed. The last thing I saw was the woman’s head turning into that of a panther’s head. The creature opened its mouth and revealed rows of sharp needle-like teeth down its throat.

I jolted awake. My body was sweaty and my heart was racing. I was out of breath as if I really had been running. I swallowed hard and ran my fingers along my face. I stood up from the sleeping roll I laid on the ground and went out of the building to get some fresh air. It was a few days after our encounter with the bull. We were out of the canyon and the land strider continued with its mission. Ankarama was fearful of another attack, and allowed my troupe to sleep in the barracks.

I stood outside in my bed clothes. A simple loin cloth to be comfortable. The night air was cold. I shivered, but felt like I needed to have the chill drown my nightmares. I leaned on the wall of the fortress and watched the night sky. There were brilliant shades of violet and blue. I could see the infinite number of stars hanging over my head. The beauty and wonder that I saw made me humble. Alone with my thoughts, I wondered what this “Lak’Ashara” was like. There were some things I had to admire about her. One woman led the many different tribes in the entirety of the Blasted Lands. That in itself was worthy of admiration. Yet even still, I was concerned. A pit in my stomach began to form.

No ruler had ever maintained an empire by keeping their hands clean at all times, and I was about to see that Lak’Ashara was no exception. Lak’Ashara’s capital city, “Enkoro” was just ahead of us. What lay ahead of me was a city unlike I had ever seen before, and I pray to never see again. The exterior of the city was promising enough. It was far more grandiose in comparison to Akari. It was much larger and spread out. Its magnificent exterior was on par with Roharim. The buildings were pure white marble with their tiled roofs in a pyramidal shape with corners that curved upward.

At the road leading to the main gate was a colossal bronze statue that towered over the landstrider. Each leg of the statue was on the different sides of the road like a massive archway. The statue was that of a woman. She was clad in a ceremonial armor that resembled Ys’tar. Around her shoulders was a lion’s mane. Her hand was held up high above her head. The palm faced upward and resting inside was a large flame. We went under the massive statue and the gates opened. That was where my admiration of the city ended.

The city itself was beautiful, but it's people… that was another story. There was degeneracy wherever I looked. People were fornicating in the streets without a care. They simply went over to each other and took their own twisted gratification. Men simply took women and pushed them against the walls while they defiled them. Several orgies were being conducted in the parks and on rooftops, all announcing our arrival with animalistic moans and grunts.

Everywhere I looked, it was vice and depravity. A mixture of lust and violence paraded the streets with no hesitation in sight. I will not dare describe in detail what horrors I saw, for I see them every waking moment of my life. What I will say is that their lust and gluttonous want for pleasure and pain knew no limits. They fashioned parades that promoted this wickedness. Each citizen acted as if there was a contest to see who could insult all five senses as well as basic human decency. Lustful profligates competed to show that it was they that were the worst that humanity had to offer.

The rest of my fellows were stunned. Even Brutus —who had the libido of a rabbit on the verge of overdosing on aphrodisiacs— was repulsed by the sights of wanton degeneracy. Everyone else returned indoors so as not to witness the vulgar sight. Cora seemed numb to the sight. She looked to the ground. I could see that this was one thing that Cora refused to take part in.

The sight of all of that disgusted me. Whatever good first impressions I had of Lak’Ashara were now outweighed by how she ruled. Her people were immoral, and I couldn’t wait to be done with this place. In the middle of the city was a massive Temple. A titanic ziggurat structure that towered over the rest of the city. It doubled as both a palace and a temple to Ys’Tar. The statues adorning it depicted more carnal acts. This city had the potential to be something magnificent, but with every passing moment, it became more undesirable. This was no civilization. This was an orgy that fetishized every degenerate act you can imagine. Nothing —and I mean nothing— was too taboo or sacred.

The land strider finally stopped. It laid down to finally rest. The remaining guards Ankarama had rolled out a rope ladder in order to get a movable flight of stairs. Of course there was no way such a delicate and fragile woman would descend from the ropes. Joining her down the steps, we made our way to the ziggurat’s main entryway. Meeting us at the flight of stairs was a scantily clad male servant. Eye candy for Lak’Ashara of course.

He spoke to us in a servile, monotone voice.

“Lak’Ashara welcomes Queen Ankarama and her guests.”

Ankarama smiled confidently, as if she had not been cowering in her fortress on the turtle several days prior to this meeting.

“I wouldn’t dare miss this for the world. Her eminence always knows how to treat her guests well.”

The servant eyed me and my companions up like lambs getting ready for the slaughter.

“Your weapons. You will not need them.”

Begrudgingly, we had handed over our weapons. Though it wasn’t as if I needed my sword to kill anyone. I was capable of doing so with my bare hands.

The servant escorted us up the stairs. They were long but I have been through worse. Inside Lak’Ashara’s palace is where there was much of the same that had gone on outside. It was the aftermath of an orgy. Warriors and servants were laid around each other. They slept in a massive pile of flesh. Some were slumbering peacefully, others wanted to go a few more rounds. There were still animalistic grunts and moans that filled the air, but the worst had passed long before I arrived.

As we made our way to the throne room, one of the other lords of the clans was here. Gorbus. He was a very fat man that was more whale than human. This man had sores on his body and could only move with the aid of servants carrying him. He traded his pride long ago in exchange for security and comfort. He was among the most perverted in the area. His greasy maw exchanged kisses from unwilling victims of both sexes. You could see the pain in their eyes as they were forced to do far worse to sate this man's endless hunger.

I turned to look at Cora. How could she let something like this pass? How could she be a part of this? She could feel my eyes judging her and she lowered her head. We shared a look. I could see that in her eyes this depravity was not who she was. This was Lak’Ashara. Cora was simply here to keep the peace and maintain what little order there was. She was the first one to turn her head away, knowing that this was not right, yet despite being given much power through sorcery, she couldn’t do anything to stop the degradation of this society.

The servant led us to the throne room, opening the large doors inside. At long last, we saw Lak’Ashara. As it was before, all over the floor -save for a clear pathway that led from the door to the throne itself- was full of the aftermath of an orgy. Bodies draped over one another lazily in post coitus slumber. Sitting on the throne before us was the lord of all that she beheld. The high priestess of Ys’Tar and the undisputed ruler of the Blasted Lands. Lak’Ashara sat on a blackened marble throne. The arm rests were carved to be in the form of Sphinxes, though instead of a man’s head, it was Ys’Tars multi eyed cat face with its mouth hung opened. Each had a tongue that coiled and slithered like a worm, forever frozen in place. The back of the throne had a massive skull made out of the same type of marble. The eyes of the skull were made of gold and gemstones that formed multicolored eyes that almost seemed to follow us as we walked.

Sitting in her throne she was dressed in a regal blue dress. It was far from royal robes for important matters. This was something she relaxed in. Her leggings were a sarong that was two sapphire blue pieces of cloth that covered her front and her back, kept on her body by only a fragile little string made of gold. Her shapely legs were exposed up to her hips where there was very little to the imagination. She wore only a set of anklets that were decorative jewelry. Her midriff was exposed and showed off her perfectly maintained hourglass figure. Her chest was wrapped in a blue silk that concealed her generously sized breasts that activated that primal part of a man’s brain, just as it did with Brutus who I caught staring at her in disbelief. It was as if he were witnessing the arrival of a goddess.

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Her arms were adorned in golden bracelets that had sapphires embedded that sparkled brightly in the light. Her slender fingers were each adorned with a ring, and her nails were perfectly painted with a deep blue. Her upper arms had ornate golden plates on them, depicting the face of Ys’Tar. Around her neck was a golden chained necklace with a large sapphire in its heart that emanated with a strange glow. She wore a tiara around her head that was dotted with sapphires and paired with two earrings that used the same gems. Shrouding her face was a chained mask adorned with golden coins. One would expect a belly dancer to wear such a veil, yet Lak’Ashara wore it with confidence. She had beautiful fair skin and bright white hair. Even standing a good distance away from her, I could tell that her skin was soft to the touch.

The most alluring thing about her was her eyes. They were a bright blue that glowed brightly. This was not because of any light, but something within her. Something primal like an animal that watched you as you slept in the middle of night. Hungry eyes that stared at you, looking deep into your soul and could discern your deepest secrets with but a mere glance. As I recognized with Cora, Lak’Ashara was no simple ruler as Ankarama was. She was the real deal. Her very presence commanded an air of respect that all must abide by, or suffer the consequences. Without even speaking to us, we knew that her word was law, and she held the sway of every man and woman in the city.

When she finally spoke, she did so with a regal voice that gave a tone of superiority. You could not help but hang on every word that came from her lips.

“Cora my darling. I’ve missed you so much.”

Cora walked up to her throne and bowed her head. She kept her hands behind her back.

“I apologize for keeping you waiting, high priestess. Ankarama and I had some issues that have been dealt with.”

“Is that so?~” She spoke with a sly grin on her face as she looked at Ankarama. The queen of the blood river stepped forward and bowed her head graciously.

“Your grace. I thank you for your invitation and your hospitality. It is an honor to be in your court once again.”

Lak’Ashara crossed her legs and shifted in her throne to make herself far more comfortable.

“It's about time you showed up, Ankarama. I was beginning to think that you weren’t coming. I hope the barbarians in the canyons didn’t give you too much trouble.”

Ankarama shook her head as she kept herself low submissively.

“N-Not at all, your grace. I thought my life was in peril, but I was saved by my companions. These are-”

“I know who they are…” Lak’Ashara spoke with a commanding and dismissive tone. Ankarama’s voice fell silent upon its utterance. Lak’Ashara then turned her attention to us. She sat on her throne and gently kicked her foot in the air.

“You are the ones who desecrated my temple at Akari. You killed my servants, and stopped us from conducting our holy rites and honoring our lady Ys’Tar with a worthy sacrifice. By all rights I should have you paraded around the street naked and be publically flayed alive for the crowd’s amusement. You defiled my holy temple with your filthy footsteps and made a mockery of my priests.”

Octavian slowly reached for his blade. Yet his blade flew out of his scabbard as if lifted by an unseen hand. The blade landed against his throat, not cutting it, but enough to be a warning.

“And you would draw your weapons on me before I finish speaking? Tsk tsk… Such a shame. As far as first impressions go, you are found wanting.”

My companions and I all looked at each other. We had no idea if we were about to fight or be slaughtered. Had our gamble been in vain? We waited for an uncomfortable few moments before the sword fell to the ground, and Lak’Ashara spoke.

“And yet…you risked your lives to protect Ankarama and come here, knowing that it might not save you from my wrath. Admirable if not a bit foolish. It amuses me. And clearly you have been successful in your endeavors, otherwise we would not be speaking here today. You showed off your skills as warriors and faced a terrible thorn in my side and lived to tell the tale. You have my focus.”

She looked over to Ankarama and dismissed her with a gesture.

“Ankarama, go and make yourself at home. You and I will discuss other matters. For now, I wish to examine your…choice of friends.”

Ankarama simply bowed her head and then left the room to be pampered.

I looked at Lak’Ashara. She had just subtly dismissed a queen. As if reading my mind, Lak’Ashara spoke my thoughts aloud.

“Ankarama is useful in maintaining order in Akari, but lacks the full capabilities of what a true ruler should be. She’s a better puppet than a queen.”

She stood up from her throne and walked over to face me in person. She was slightly shorter than me, but no less dangerous. She departed from me for a short time to examine my comrades. She looked at each and every one of us as if inspecting a race horse. All in all she appeared to be impressed with each of us. I can not say for certain what went on in her thoughts, but I doubt it was anything truly for our benefit. She eyed up Brutus in particular. Brutus as I said before was a perfect specimen of a man. Taller than the average warrior, stronger, and more durable. Qualities that no doubt impressed her. Brutus meanwhile almost took delight in being examined by her. It was like he was a young child being looked at by his crush. I quietly disapproved before she returned her attention to me.

“And you…Hadrian Damoclesian. You’re not like any of the other men in this land, are you?”

I remained silent as I looked at her. Her voice has a seductive tone to it. Alluring and inviting. She moved closer to me and I could see her eyes glowing like diamonds, hypnotic in a way.

“You have no idea how…dull many of the men in the Blasted Lands are. Their ambitions are so simple. Many of them would commit the most barbaric atrocities mankind has ever seen for me. They would go out of their way to engage in any form of slaughter just so they could spend a few short hours with me. They desire pleasure more than anything…but not you…”

She was trying to read my mind with her sorceries. There was no other explanation. She attempted to manipulate me and worm her way in my head, pouring sweet honey into my ear in the hopes that I would bend the knee.

“You were crucified. I can feel your scars as if they were mine…”

She picked up my wrist and uncuffed my bracer, revealing my scars to her. Even now the wound was as sensitive as it had ever been.

“You were nailed to the cross by men who couldn’t understand you. Men who feared you. I understand that better than anyone. I know what it's like to be ostracized by your own people for what you believe in.”

I tried to focus on something else. I hated having the privacy of my mind being invaded. Lak’Ashara was used to simply taking what she wanted, and I would make her fight for it.

“You shield your mind from me…” She said as she opened her eyes wide with a surprised tone in her voice, yet her lips curled up in a smile.

“No matter. Your character also tells me everything I need to know.”

She pressed herself against me, biting her lower lip and placing her hands on my chest.

“You have enough willpower to track down the men who hurt you and kill them. You could rid the world of them in a few short years if everything went according to your plan. But you’re staying here as an exile. Now why is that?”

I refused to answer, but for Lak’Ashara, that was a rhetorical question.

“You’re dissatisfied with the republic of Roharim. The senate is set to devour itself and there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop it, is there?”

It was true. I had my own misgivings about the Republic. I was loyal to my people, but the leaders slowly began to be corrupted by their own nepotism and vanity. Senators that should have stepped down ages ago instead grew too fat for their own good. Weak men were leading the strong to their deaths. I predicted that Roharim would fall to war unless things changed. Ile’Sethak was a means to hopefully reform my country. The knowledge he provided could prove valuable to saving my people from themselves.

“You’ve been placed here as a punishment, but where your enemies see exile you see opportunity. You think you can create a kingdom that can be greater than Roharim if you are given the change.”

I shook my head. I grew tired of these mind games the more that she played them. I pushed myself back from her, yet she was still smiling wickedly.

“Oh you don’t need to fear what I say. I only speak the truth? And do you know what else? I can help you.”

She stepped back and spun on her heel.

“Cora. Be a darling and escort Hadrian to my chambers. He and I have a lot to discuss.”

Lak’Ashara spun around again to look at the rest of my companions.

“Oh, and take the others to some of the best rooms we have. See that their every need is tended to~”

With a heavy heart and her face lowered, Cora took my hand and escorted me up the stairs to follow Lak’Ashara while my companions were taken elsewhere. We were both wordless as we ascended the flight of stairs. Cora took off some of my armor so that I could be more comfortable and “presentable” for Lak’Ashara. I didn’t Resist Cora. She spoke to me and gave me the rules that I must abide by.

“Be on your best behavior. The high priestess does not like to be offended, and it may be your last mistake.”

Before Cora could answer any questions —or before I could even utter a word— she left the room. My battle skirt and sandals were all that remained. The rest of me was exposed for Lak’Ashara’s benefit. There I would wait in the jaws of the beast, wondering what Lak’Ashara had planned for me. I could only imagine what would go on in her mind as she prepared for our private meeting.