An Eternity in Bonds 02 - Shrouded Lust

Author's Note: This chapter deals largely with the power dynamic between master and slave as they flee the city. The next chapter, coming soon, will feature the dark deeds within the realm that they are journeying to 😊

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It was still three hours before dawn when they stole out the dark alleyway.

"Come slave, it is three hours' ride to the gate. We must make haste if we are to avoid capture." The assassin slapped the slave's ass, resulting in a pathetic yelp from the naked girl.

They reached the local stables. "Get on. This will be the last time you'll use a horse, slave. Enjoy it." He grabbed the girl by her upper arm, hoisting her forcefully onto the horse.

"They teach you how to ride bareback in the Midland Wood before you fled here?"

The slave nodded in affirmation. Born into the caste of the Wind, she was well versed in the arts of riding and mobility. She was lethal in the air, and these skills will serve her well in this new turn of her life.

The assassin mounted his own horse, a darksteed notoriously bred in the far reaches of Dominia. It was a wonder that he wasn't stopped at the gates; Nessa suspected gang involvement.

"Come, slave. We have much ground to cover. YAH!" And with a snap of the reins, the darksteed bolted forward with a loud neigh. "Follow!"

The slave reached down, and whispered in the horse's ear the tongue of the forest, "Letta Gracios, Galia Equinos." The horse stood upright, ears pricked. Nessa looked ahead of her, a life of slavery ahead.

She felt only lust.

"Galia! Galia!" She cried, one hand cradling the beast's neck, the other holding on for dear life, as the strong Northern-bred steed burst into life, trailing the darksteed ahead.

They rode for two hours. They did not call it the Eternal City for nothing. The city spanned countless acres, and Nessa wondered how it was ever conquered in the Second War of Holy Consequence. They continued along the road, and reached a small outpost, not yet populated with soldiers.

"Here, slave," the assassin motioned. He pointed at the distant wall. The sun was beginning to show, and Knights were beginning to rise with their morning drills.

"We must make haste. Less than an hour away now. Be swift, for there is not much time. HYAH!" The man spoke with more authority than ever, his voice a deep baritone, forceful and unwavering. The slave can only meekly whimper a reply.

"Yes master," she said with erotic awe. "Galia, Auriumann!" She referenced the mare's ancient birthplace of Aurium, in the northern throat. And the beast responded in kind, leaving but a cloud of dust in their wake.

Eventually, the walls loomed large, the gate of Eternity dead ahead. Falcons perched above screaming demons, the evocative sculpting suggest ancient battles and the pride of a kingdom. As they approached, a wing of Storm-Falcons rose out of the fog.

The Dominian assassin looked up. There were no riders on those beasts. There may yet be hope. With dark force, he urged his mount onwards, digging his spurs deep into the darksteed's sides. With labored breathing, the beast surged forward.

They were so close. The slave's trained senses told her of the smell of soldiers' sweat, the fading chill of morning, and the calm assuredness of the remarkable man ahead of her. She could see the rays of morning light shimmering off the armor of the knights ahead, and as they moved to apprehend the intruders, the Eternity's Gate began it's pondering close.

All of a sudden, the assassin pulled out his weapons. A pair of dual throwing knives, curved and honed to deadly effect. With a flourish, he released them at the approaching Knights. A shower of blood met each, and she could hear the clanging crunch of armor as they rode by, the light in their corpses retreating from this world.

More Knights. A Paladin on horseback. They formed a line before the closing gate. Still, her captor remained calm. With deliberate motions, he left the saddle, rising high into the air, uttering the harsh words of his native tongue, which the slave somehow understood.

"BY THE DARK GODS, I CURSE YOU WITH THE VOID OF THE BEYOND!"

Streams of light left his body, as cracks and shimmers of purple light formed at the legionaries' feet. To their credit, the soldiers stood firm, the Paladin dismounting his horse and dropping to one knee.

A soundless murmur escaped the Holy Warrior's lips. And suddenly, a solid column of light formed between their steeds and the gate.

And all hell broke loose. The ground ruptured beneath the warriors' feet, but a golden light held them firmly in place. The golden wall held strong, and the slave girl was forced to calm her horse to prevent them from crashing head-first.

"Come slave! A bit further!" Her captor was still charging ahead, despite imminent collision. "Do not expect mercy from these hypocrites!" And with a mighty breath, he brought forth a mighty void entity. The beast seemed to draw dark energies from the life nearby, and as she watched, soldiers not in the field of light seemed to age, and wither away, their shields falling from old, dead hands. The entity formed in the air above the Paladin, who looked up defiantly.

With one final roar, the assassin brought the construct down on their foes, breaking the ward once and for all. The slave obediently rode out with him, only narrowly avoiding death at the closing of the great gates.

And with a mighty crash, the Eternity's gate shut behind them. The duo rode at breakneck pace onwards, arrows falling in their wake, but they were not struck. For her master had knowledge of the ancient arcane arts at his disposal, and every lucky arrow was vaporized before it touched their skins.

The assassin breathed. He was free at last. And perhaps this time, his empire will have a chance in the wars to come.

They rode for several more hours, evading the pursuing parties. Their horses moved with a sort of demonic strength once conventional muscles were exhausted from the exertion.

And in five hours, they had left the city long behind them.

As they passed a lone windmill, the assassin gave the signal, and the duo stopped for a break.

They fastened their horses to a nearby tree, and dismounted into a small clearing, choked by heavy oaks on every side. Dilapidated as it is, the windmill will serve as some meagre amount of shelter while they lay low for the rest of the day.

"We leave at midnight," the man said, gesturing to the windmill, ordering the slave inside. Nessa meekly complied.

As she entered, she felt somehow wrong. The place was not constructed from conventional materials. A dark energy lingered here that she could not explain. She wondered how the previous owners had not sensed it; perhaps her unique upbringing in the moonlit woods had honed her senses.

Before long, she heard rustling, voices, dark speech. It appeared that the man had summoned an apparition of sorts, but she dared not look, for fear of damning magic entering her soul.

The assassin rejoined her inside the windmill, this time flanked by two other men, dressed in robes lined with meticulous runes and forgotten phrases.

"Slave, it is time for you to learn the true identity of your new master." The two attendants took places on either side of the standing slave, grabbing her around her forearms, and forced her down on both knees. She was still naked through all of this, but she felt like it was almost her natural element. She was wind, after all, and exposure did not affect her as it did many others. She seemed almost invigorated with the flight from the city.

"I am Lord General Malachar. Herald of the end, and you are destined to be my servant for all time."

She could only tremble and bow before his majesty. How could she not? He radiated power, almost unlimited power, and dark energies danced in his eyes. A living god seemingly stood before her, and there was nothing she could do to break free, she now understood.

Nodding his head at the effectiveness of his message, the general motioned to his lieutenants. "Are we past the Aeternal Ward?"

"Yes lord, we may open a portal to the Nether-realm should you desire."

The general nodded. "Bring the girl. Bring us home."

"What of the horses, sir?"

"They will only slow the process. I would rather you saved your energies for the war ahead than teleporting two horses across Seris Munda, the world."

The men nodded, bowing their heads one last time. Without another word, they approached the centre of the windmill. She hadn't noticed it before, but there was a faint circle of diseased wood there. At their behest, the wood reformed, rising ever higher in a gangly, terrifying shape. And in its center, a vortex of black energies gathered.

The construct whole, the procession approached. Nessa could spot vague shapes of dilapidated towers, winding staircases, and grand buttresses reflected in the onyx light.

She closed her eyes. The slave could not know for certain yet, but they had arrived in the realm of Dominia, where her life would be changed forever.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! The next chapter will be more exciting, with sex and erotica! Promise!