Chapter 01 Mistakes

Author's Notes: This story is erotic fiction written by Arilia. I reserve the right to be listed as the author of this story, wherever it is posted. If found posted anywhere except Literotica.com with this note attached, this story is posted without my permission. © Arilia 2017

Minor spoilers below.

Anahet's story explores how sex interacts with magic, society, and war in a fantasy setting. Her world, Nila, includes more species, sexes, and body types than seen on Earth, and as a valkyrie, Anahet's different in a few ways.

This is a slow burn. Chapter 1 focuses on action, while Chapter 2 delves into romance. If you're looking for a quick sexual high, I recommend checking out some other excellent authors on this site, then cumming back here later. ;)

Thank you for reading, and enjoy!

*************

CHAPTER 1 - MISTAKES

"Nothing here."

"Damn."

The first man's voice replied over the sound of loose items shuffling about, "At least

she

should make this worthwhile."

"Oh! Jarn!" the second man exclaimed and shoved his kneeling comrade's arm. Jarn glanced up in annoyance before continuing to search my backpack.

Undaunted, the excited man continued, "You know, It'd be damn unfortunate to let something like her go to waste. We should try her out before we sell her. I heard they know weird ways to fuck, some of those tats on her body can drive you wild..." He rambled on about second-hand tales, thoroughly pestering his companion and distracting them both.

My eyes opened a little more in a cautious squint. My helmet, belongings, and would-be robbers were twenty paces away near the base of an acacia tree. The men dumped me at the edge of the clearing an hour ago, where grasses rose from the shade of the tree to a two-meter height on the surrounding plain. The tall grassland thoroughly concealed us from view. No chance to get spotted from the road, wherever that was now.

Glimpses of skin revealed both men had the pale complexion of travellers from Sviþjod. Few others had bodies so vulnerable to harsh sunlight. The still-rambling man wore a pointed helmet with a mail hauberk covering his torso, legs, and arms. The other, Jarn had similar gear, in addition to metal plates of munition armor covering his chest, shoulders, and thighs. Two swords, several daggers, one unloaded crossbow. I was dangerously outmatched.

On the bright side, I still wore my leathers, and they didn't discover a vital pouch hidden in the back of my jacket. My halberd lay against the side of the tree opposite the men. A combination of spear and axe on a three-meter pole offered significant advantages against armored opponents like these. Lots of range, power, and spiky bits to pierce that metal, and let's just say I had plenty of experience with penetration.

At least I got the ropes off. With my hands still hidden behind me in loosely untied bindings, I carefully poured out the last of my mana dust from the pouch into nearly-finished pattern on the ground. This spell was banned by conventions of war, but if I didn't do something drastic I'd be dead - or worse.

They're slavers and rapists. You're defending yourself. It's okay to protect yourself.

The mental reassurances didn't assuage the nausea at the back of my mind.

"FUCK!" Jarn yelled in alarm as he glanced over for the third time. He lept up from the pack with sword in hand, and the other man turned, drawing his weapon. Jarn raced within feet of me.

"Look out! Sh... -unhf," the unnamed man's words cut off as the dusty rune behind me flared up with power.

I felt a sudden burst of energy surge outward from the completed glyph. The men doubled over. I bit down hard on my lower lip, winced, rolled to my feet, and lunged from the eye of the magical storm. My nipples stiffened up and sexes flared with arousal, but the pain in my lip shattered the pleasure, helping focus my mind.

Jarn shook his head as he tried to escape the euphoria buffeting his brain. My leg swung up in a powerful kick to his groin, then again as he crumpled, the second strike connecting my knee to his jaw. A grimace swept over me as his helmet dug into my kneecap.

That's gonna bruise.

Fighting with the pain as an ally, I leapt atop the stunned thug as he fell on his back. A shudder passed through me as intimate images of the man naked flashed unbidden into my thoughts. My hand drew the dagger from his waist. He shrieked in terror and pushed at me, too late, as I drove the blade down into the gap between helmet and chestplate.

I released the buried weapon. With a firm grip on his abandoned sword from the dirt, I struggled to my feet.

My gaze swung to the other man. I saw him struggle against the last few waves of climax as the magic violated his mind. I felt sick. The trembling man nearly dropped his weapon, but regained focus after his body reached satisfaction. His face contorted in a unnatural mixture of confusion, ecstasy, and furious hatred as he caught sight of me above his dying comrade.

I lifted the sword in a low, steady guard, feeling the balance of the unfamiliar weapon in my hands. I cursed silently. The sword was too broad to pierce his mail, and the magic would take time to build to another climax. My gaze darted again to my polearm resting against the tree. Still too far. Dashing there would leave me open to attack from the side.

I slowly circled around my unnamed opponent advancing towards me. His sky blue eyes fixated on me, and his long golden beard shifted slightly below the helm with each motion. I saw him grit his teeth as the pleasure slowly rose again. Each step moved me to the side, and slightly forward, keeping the sword ready to defend myself while navigating towards the tree.

My destination caught his attention. He lunged.

Our blades clashed, blocking an ambitious strike to my chest. A screech of steel split the afternoon air as his weapon quickly slid down my own. His sword struck my crossguard with a clang, and he pressed further forward, angling his blade over the guard to strike.

Fuck!

I cried out as the point dug into my arm with an agonizing gash. My leather armor stopped the blade before it struck bone, but my sword thumped to the dirt.

I tugged my arm away from the blow and rolled to the side, letting the momentum from his attack carry him past me. He overextended, either from inexperience, or the distracting sexual energy. The shift in position gave me the opportunity I needed to reach the tree and grip the halberd in both hands.

I used the tree to gain some distance on my enemy as he circled around for another attack. I hefted the longer weapon in both hands, and we faced off.

The pain from the wound thankfully held back the arcane tide even longer, balancing my physical weakness with a mental advantage. I could see the signs rising again in the man. His pupils dilated, and he blinked quickly when his vision started blurring.

We tested each other with quick, unsuccessful strikes. He looked for a chance to grab the polearm, but with superior range I could play a cautious waiting game, waiting for his mental state to collapse. The only anxiety I felt was the warmth spreading through my armor from my wound.

He spotted me favoring the weight towards my uninjured arm, and a grimacing smile touched his face.

There!

His momentary happiness sparked the swirling arcane energy into a second massive euphoric wave. He gasped and shivered, eyes drifting half-shut as they dilated further, blinded by the light pouring inside.

I advanced swiftly with a strike from the spear-tip of my halberd. He swung his sword up to block, clattering against my weapon, but I slammed deep into his mail armor. I heard metal rings split as the spike buried inside his stomach with a sickening squish.

I yanked my weapon free as he reeled in shock.

He thudded backwards onto the ground. I swung the halberd up, then brought it down with a forceful blow to his chest. The side-spike drove down with a terrible crunch through metal and bone.

I stepped forward, pressed my boot to the chest of his corpse, and freed my weapon with a tug. My eyes glanced about, cautiously waiting to see if any more dangers emerged from the grass. A small amount of relief flooded me as I surveyed the empty clearing. It was nearly silent, aside from rustling leaves, grasses, and a faint struggling sound nearby.

My heart thudded from adrenaline and searing arousal. Panting heavily, thoroughly damp under my armor in more ways than one, I moved away from the body at my feet. Nothing I could do there. His

kami

was long gone. Striding across the dirt, I returned to the other man laying on his back nearby.

His shaking hand now loosely gripped the bloody dagger above him. I knocked it away, set my polearm down, and knelt at his side. He looked up at me with terror in his eyes. Both his hands now clutched at his throat, desperately trying to stop the lifeblood pouring through helpless fingers.

I traced a simple air-glyph on his chest with my uninjured hand. He suddenly ceased struggling, agony escaping his mind while physical senses mercifully shut down. His arms collapsed limply. He lay there in a surreal juxtaposition of silent horror. His upturned gaze drifted past me to the Astral Mother and Father wheeling their fiery paths through the sky above, staring directly into terrible vastness of the suns.

I scoured my memory for something to temper my shame and his mortal fear. I found an appropriate stanza. My breathless voice drifted through the air in heavily accented

Dönsk tunga

.

"Before cold death does no brave man quail; no thought of fear have I.

Soon with the battle wake when Aslaug's sons their bitter blades unsheath,

Soon will they learn the manner of my death, stout hearts of brave mothers!"

He looked up to me in surprise as I recited the legendary death song in his native tongue. I saw the fear slowly abate. I continued more vigorously:

"Full gladly do I go! See the Valkyrja fresh from the halls!

High-seated among heroes shall I quaff the yellow-mead.

The Aesir welcome me. Laughing gladly do I die!"

His gaze drifted further from me as my words washed over him, staring out into the cosmos and beyond, until his eyes lost themselves in still nothingness. I felt his kami pass peacefully into the ethereal plane. He probably wouldn't get a hero's welcome like the sagas, but neither would I, when my time came.

I breathed in deeply, stood from his body, and moved to the tree to tend my injuries. I retrieved a towel from my pack, and set it on the ground next to the trunk. With grunts of pain, I pulled my leather armor over my head, then tugged up the sleeve of the red-stained shirt below. The sudden loss of pressure caused blood to flow freely. I dabbed my finger in the dripping liquid to trace an inscription on my arm.

Though of limited practical use, the blood of a valkyrja contained enough mana to perform minor magic. My severed artery ironically ensured I had enough to complete the rune - even as it slowly killed me. Fucked-up gallows humor from whatever deity created our shitty bodies.

I sat down with a thud on the towel below. With a shove, I pushed my leggings down around my thighs, and leaned back against the tree. An intense feeling of physical and emotional vulnerability struck me as I lay there, almost nude in the clearing, waiting for the spell to complete. I felt the arcane storm in the clearing shift focus as the blood sizzled on my skin. The small glyph catalyzed the environmental spell into a torrent that began crashing full-force into me like a breaking dam.

I reached up to hold the wound closed with two fingers, and it sealed up with unnatural haste. My eyes struggled to remain open with the powerful energy rushed inside. I clenched my thighs together, my lips parted, and I cried out in ecstasy as euphoria rippled through my body. My breasts strained against my shirt as I arched my chest, hips bucking in a few short, violent thrusts... then I collapsed back down to the grass, panting heavily.

I came down off my sexual high as the ethereal storm subsided. I glanced around quickly, and relief flooded me. No new dangers. It was over.

"Thank you, Janus," I whispered aloud to my patron deity. She often protected people in our vulnerable moments, though I rarely knew for sure. The actions of a worldragon were often unfathomable to astronomically tiny beings like us. Besides, she had a billion people to watch over with her sister, and my laughably mundane fight with two highway robbers probably didn't warrant any attention. Still, it's good to appreciate anyone who might save your ass some day.

I retrieved a canteen from my belongings. With careful pours of water, I washed the blood away from my arm, and cleaned the sexual juices off my nethers. I regretfully used a kerchief to wipe away the water. The cool liquid felt nice after a hot fight, but under multiple layers of armor, the moisture would lead to the

most

unpleasant chafing you can possibly imagine!

I glanced down into the puddle of water rapidly disappearing into the dirt. Dark eyes reflected back at me, brown skin marred by sweat and grime, and short black hair waved slowly in the wind. A bruise adorned my cheek where the bandits' thumper struck my face hours ago. I felt uncomfortable to look upon my reflection.

I should have kept my helmet on. I made myself an easy target. I wouldn't have needed to...

I shook my head, cleared my thoughts, and spoke aloud to my reflection, "They attacked you. It was their fault, not yours. You had every right to defend yourself." Talking to myself felt ridiculous, but the guilt did fade a little.

I cinched up my leggings, stood, and pulled my leathers back over my head. The rubbing motion as the armor settled on my curves sent small aftershocks of pleasure shuddering through my body. I inspected the damaged sleeve closely. It was a stabbing blow; the leather was in fair condition. I muttered a reminder about repairs while inspecting my fallen enemies.

A cursory examination of the robbers revealed little money - only a small pouch of crystal dust, a quarter-weight perhaps. The steel munition armor was useless for me right now. Too narrow for my hips. I could get it fitted, however. The mail armor was in good condition and slightly larger than my size. The only damage appeared to be a few rings bent from my strikes with the halberd.

I started removing and cleaning the mail while considering who I killed. Based on their gear and complexion, I suspected these men were former members of the Varangian Guard -- mercenaries from the north, commonly employed by the Medinese Empire. I noted weathering where someone stripped away insignia. Most people wear their rank proudly, even after leaving the guard, so they were probably dishonorably discharged.

Former guardsmen now robbing travellers and dealing with slavers. Worth a bounty? Maybe. I could use the dust.

I considered taking proof with me to my destination in Behan. However, my supply of mana dust was nearly exhausted from the earlier spell, and I didn't want to use the last of it to record the area. Hopefully they could send someone back here.

I found my skittish horse some distance away from the clearing. I ambitiously named him Aegis many years ago, but he was no warhorse. A pissed-off cat terrified him once. The tall grasses swayed serenely above him in the wind, rustling softly, calming me as the heat of battlelust faded.

"You won't get rid of me that easily," I laughed and caressed him reassuringly. I led him back to the clearing, where he grazed on grass while I laboriously removed the expensive plated armor. I strapped it to the pack on the back of the horse with the robbers' provisions and weapons. The runes on the saddlebag glowed a little brighter as the weight lessened.

I shifted to test the balance of the new mail covering my body, then hoisted myself up to horseback, and took a moment to get my bearings as my eyesight lifted above the grassy plain. The roadway burrowed a gap through the grassland about a hundred meters away.

Twilight approached. The fiery warmth of the Astral Mother already dipped below the horizon, with the cold blue Father close behind, both suns continuing to shine their light on the brilliant ring of Janus overhead. Her glow began to dominate the heavens in a vast glittering expanse arching from west to east. The shadow of her sister Nila, the worldragon I stood upon, gradually moved up the night side of the ring.

Time to get moving.

I lost significant blood in the fight, and my wound needed proper treatment. I didn't have time to waste. The landsknecht outpost in Behan should have a medic on staff.

I set out on my horse as evening fell. The grasses swayed around me like a shifting sea stretching to the distant horizon. The stalks glittered from the glow of Janus sweeping across the cosmos above, embracing her cosmic sister in a protective night glow.