To be a General of Zecair, one had to attain Master Elite status as a warrior, the rank of Tactical Commander of the army, be anointed by the Council of Nobles, and have a vote of no contest from the other generals. A General was entrusted with the security of Zecair. They defended their territory, and spearheaded attacks into their enemies.
For a General, a quintessential hero of Zecair, The Alluring found The Unkillable's taste in companions disturbing. She stood inside the General's home accompanied by distasteful creatures. Guarding her were three Coszai Behemoths, hairy hulking, savage brutes that ate their enemies after battle. They were impossibly strong and could rip soldiers in half with their hands. A single blow of one of those long arms could kill the heartiest of men. For all their savagery, they were a superstitious people. Across the room stood a Veldain Chameleon, a treacherous lizard man that could mimic the shape of any creature it could see. They changed sides in battle as quickly as they changed their skin. It stood with its lizard eyes on her, and she wondered if it was memorizing her appearance right now. But what disturbed her more, was the lack of Zecair soldiers she had seen. Multi-racial slaves and servants were common, but households were only guarded by trusted, pureblooded Zecairans.
For a General, his choice of décor also had much to be desired. There were no trophies lining the walls or works of Zecair art. The waiting room she stood in was purely functional -- bare of anything but her guards. This was more a stronghold than a household. The Alluring wondered how deep The Unkillable's treachery lied. Shrewd, tactical assignations weren't uncommon -- always appearing as accidents -- but he brazenly blamed his own attempt on a murdered Lord. That was unheard of. She pulled the slipping strap of her bedraggled dress up over her shoulder and smoothed the skirt. Her role was to appear whole and well, but desperate. She needed to convince The Unkillable that she had value. But as she looked around, she wondered if he even valued a Zecairan life.
Boot falls echoed down the hallway and the guards stood up at immediate attention. It was an odd thing for her to see a Coszai standing up straight instead of its usual hunched posture. The Alluring took a similar posture, folding her hands before her, and looking to the floor instead of the hallway. The first thing The Unkillable needed to know was that she was submissive. As he approached, the smell of blood approached with him. She couldn't help but look up. He was wearing the same striped leather pants and brown riding boots, but wore no shirt. His scarred, heavily muscled chest was covered in blood spray and splatter. The sight made her heart skip; she hoped with all her heart it wasn't her sister's.
The General entered the room but didn't say anything. She met his gaze and saw the look of disbelief and confusion on his face. He took a moment to inspect her, as if determining if she was real. He glanced once to his Chameleon and then folded his arms over his chest.
"What were the last words we shared?" He asked her in a stern voice. She understood he had to test her, the reason why was standing right next to him.
"You commanded me to see for myself that the Majestic was still alive." She replied meekly. "And I've come to report, by no hand of mine, that she does still live. She was saved by her slaves, most of which died to the Screech Beetle." She watched his face, she was expecting fear or anger. Yet, The Unkillable laughed.
"I see, so she will face the slavers." He stroked his mustache and contemplated the news. "I wonder how much of a price she would fetch on the slaver's market. I would love to take her." He grinned as he paced, letting the daydream expand in his mind. "Oh, the look on all those Lord's faces when The Majestic goes up for sale on the block only to be outbid by a General." He laughed heartily.
"This is good news!" He grinned and approached The Alluring. "Now, what to do with you..." He placed a hand on her barely covered breast and squeezed it; his fingers congregated to her nipple and pinched painfully it through the fabric. She didn't protest.
"I am to understand that my sister now serves My Lord?" The Alluring said as evenly as possible despite the sharp pain. "I wish to serve with her then." She bowed her head in submission.
"That is good to hear!" He grinned and released her tit. "She could use your help in dealing with a problem. It seems the pale devil was too much for her. See to her, and then resume the interrogation. I've softened the bitch up for you." As quickly as he came, The Unkillable left. The Alluring breathed a sigh of relief; that had gone suspiciously easy. But it was his last comment that made sense -- if her sister had failed him, then their combined power would make up for it. He had a need for her now; that is why he had been so welcoming.
The Chameleon stood forward and waved her on. She watched as it changed suddenly to look as a Zecair houseguard in tight leather. A feeling of disgust and horror crept up her throat at the sight. It changed shape with such ease she wondered how many of these creatures were actually being used? Perhaps the Coszai Behemoths were just more Chameleons, perhaps The General was... Those thoughts plagued her until a faint odor tickled her nose, and she smirked. Veldain Chameleons could imitate a creature physically without flaw, and the best ones could learn their habits and traits as well. But the one thing all Veldain's did that lead to their subjugation, was give off a musky order when they got excited. Zecairan's could detect this faint scent.
Her escort led her to a bedroom and waited outside with the door shut. Inside she found her sister lying on the bed sleeping. That uneasy feeling in the back of her throat quickly melted away. The Deliquescent didn't seem to have any injuries, and wore a plain servant's dress. She went to her, and sat down on the bed beside her. Her hand softly caressed a cheek until The Deliquescent stirred awake. Their eyes met, and for a silent moment they took stock of the other. It was The Alluring that moved first.
She kissed her sister softly on the lips. Her body hovered over her sister -- one hand held her cheek, the other propped her up. She breathed into the waiting mouth and cast the spell of sharing essences. It was a warm, invigorating wave of energy and presence of mind that awoke the recuperating sorceress.
"Dear One, are you well?" the silent voice said as their souls joined.
"Alya, I thought he had killed you."
"He tried. Shush and share." She soothed the consciousness, and opened up her memories to that horrible scene as she fell to the Arena floor. The Deliquescent relived the whole event over with her sister -- the fall, the limping to safety, watching that slave save The Majestic from the Screech Beetles, his touch on her body as he ebbed the pain away, and even his lewd interrogation.
