The Feast

by Rowan Bree

  Vale throws down the letters and sighs dramatically. “I’m bored.” He stands, unhooking Jasper’s chain from the throne, and yanks him to his feet. “Let’s see if any of the imps are feeling restless. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a good fight.”

  Jasper has a murderous look in his eyes but bites his tongue. He must still be hurting from the last time he disobeyed Vale.

  Vale leaves the throne room with Jasper. A couple of servants hurriedly follow after them.

  You notice a small piece of parchment that has fallen to the floor. Hungry for any news beyond the castle, you quietly slip it into your palm and unfurl the parchment.

  Wait for the black rat. He carries the keys. When the castle sleeps, we will come.

  - S

  You slide the parchment in the slight gap beneath the throne where no one will find it.

  Sybil is coming for you and Jasper. You will soon be free.

  THE END

  Back to the start.

  —

  Vale sits on the throne that once belonged to the king of Tyven. Now it belongs to the king of all realms, above and below. On his head is a crown of scorched human bones.

  Around your neck is a collar, a mark of your servitude. It is connected by a chain to the foot of Vale’s throne. You wear nothing else. A matching chain leads to the collar around Jasper’s neck. You are not allowed to speak to one another unless Vale commands otherwise. Your job is to serve Vale however he wishes, and for Jasper that often means humiliation and debasement at the hands of his master.

  Vale never touches you, though, not since the night of the feast. The jobs he has you do are far more mundane. He knows that what he did to you that night is far worse than anything he could think up now. And he also knows how it hurts you to watch him lay hands on Jasper. Jasper often disobeys and gets punished accordingly. Vale enjoys it when Jasper earns a punishment, and you can’t help but suspect that Jasper does too.

  You watch Vale as he reads the most recent letters from the heads of the Order in each city. The takeover was fast. That night as Vale took you on the stone circle, he completed an ancient ritual that brought the gods that the Order worships into this world from theirs. As the mage came inside you, the sky filled with black clouds and demonic beasts appeared on the streets of Tyven. Many people were killed trying to fight the infernal hordes, and the unlucky survivors were ravaged and forced to submit to the Order. The king was spared. He knelt before Vale, crowning him king over the new world. Most nobles bowed to their new leader without question.

  Vale throws down the letters and sighs dramatically. “I’m bored.” He stands, unhooking Jasper’s chain from the throne, and yanks him to his feet.

  Jasper winces as he follows Vale from the room. He must still be hurting from the last time Vale was bored.

  You look away and notice a small piece of parchment that has fallen to the floor. Hungry for any news beyond the castle, you quietly slip it into your palm and unfurl the parchment.

  Wait for the black rat. He carries the keys. When the castle sleeps, we will come.

  - S

  You slide the parchment in the slight gap beneath the throne where no one will find it.

  Sybil is coming for you and Jasper. You will soon be free. You just hope that Jasper will want to leave. The way you see him look at Vale sometimes makes you think he might not want to.

  THE END

  Back to the start.

  —

  Vale sits on the throne that once belonged to the king of Tyven. Now it belongs to the king of all realms, above and below. On his head is a crown of scorched human bones. Your place is beside him on a throne of your own. Atop your head sits a diadem sparkling with the blackest diamonds.

  At your feet rests the dragon, his slumbering body rising and falling with each breath. He has accepted his place as your pet.

  Vale sighs as he reads the most recent letters from the heads of the Order in each city. The takeover was fast. Most nobles bowed to their new leaders without question. Any land that refused was scorched with dragon fire and left open to the creatures who now roam not only within Tyven but all across the kingdom.

  The creatures now roam free over most of the kingdom. Every now and then you hear screams echoing through the streets as they find a new victim. Some of the population has gone into hiding. Others have embraced their new life as the playthings of the creatures.

  You never imagined yourself ruling beside Vale. Sybil would be jealous, if she hadn’t disappeared shortly after the feast. Vale suspects that she was a spy all along, part of a group of rebels trying to overthrow the Order’s rule. But they don’t worry you. You will root them out and see that they suffer. Every last one of them.

  THE END

  Back to the start.

  —

  You sit on the throne that once belonged to the king of Tyven. Now it belongs to the queen of all realms, above and below. On your head is a crown of scorched human bones.

  At your feet rests the dragon, his slumbering body rising and falling with each breath. He presides over the creatures of the wild; the magical faeries and gnomes and witches of the deep forests. Your domain is the realm of men and the netherworld from which the Old Ones emerged. Together you have brought the kingdom to heel.

  Vale cowers in the corner, the collar fast around his neck. He is allowed to wear nothing else. The dragon likes keeping him in the throne room to remind those who visit of the fragility of their own freedom. He often watches you longingly, pleadingly. But you won’t let him take advantage of your feelings again.

  You sighs as you read the most recent letters from the heads of the Order in each city. The takeover was fast. Most nobles bowed to their new leaders without question. Any land that refused was scorched with dragon fire and left open to the creatures who now roam not only within Tyven but all across the kingdom. Every now and then you hear screams echoing through the streets as the creatures find a new victim. Some of the population has gone into hiding. Others have embraced their new life as the playthings of the creatures.

  You never imagined yourself ruling. Sybil would be jealous, if she hadn’t disappeared shortly after the feast. The dragon suspects that she was a spy all along, part of a group of rebels trying to overthrow the Order’s rule. But they don’t worry you. You will root them out and see that they suffer. Every last one of them.

  THE END

  Back to the start.

  —

  You sit on the throne that once belonged to the king of Tyven. Now it belongs to the queen of all realms, above and below. On your head is a crown of scorched human bones.

  At your feet rests the dragon. He eyes you sleepily, his body rising and falling with each breath. He presides over the creatures of the wild; the magical faeries and gnomes and witches of the deep forests. Your domain is the realm of men and the netherworld from which the Old Ones emerged. Together you have brought the kingdom to heel.

  Vale cowers in the corner, the collar fast around his neck. He is allowed to wear nothing else. The dragon likes keeping him in the throne room to remind those who visit of the fragility of their own freedom. He often watches you longingly, pleadingly. But you won’t let him take advantage of your feelings again. Besides, you are mated to the dragon. You have no need of Vale’s pathetic little cock.

  You sighs as you read the most recent letters from the heads of the Order in each city. The takeover was fast. Most nobles bowed to their new leaders without question. Any land that refused was scorched with dragon fire and left open to the creatures who now roam not only within Tyven but all across the kingdom. Every now and then you hear screams echoing through the streets as the creatures find a new victim. Some of the population has gone into hiding. Others have embraced their new life as the playthings of the creatures.

  You never imagined yourself ruling. Sybil would be jealous, if she hadn’t disappeared shortly after the feast. The dragon suspects that she was a spy
all along, part of a group of rebels trying to overthrow the Order’s rule. But they don’t worry you. You will root them out and see that they suffer. Every last one of them.

  You sigh, bored.

  The dragon lifts his head. Shall we take a break?

  You look down at him. His eyes smolder. “I have work to do,” you say.

  The dragon nuzzles between your legs. You moan as his tongue darts out to tease you. You move your knees apart. His tongue slides in deeper. You can never resist him. He could easily make you his sex slave if he wanted to, but he doesn’t. Together you rule, as equals, as promised.

  THE END

  Back to the start.

  —

  A dark shape swims above you near the surface. Beyond it the sky is clouded and bleak. The surface world is so close you could swim up to it, if only the weights holding you down weren’t so heavy. You have tried countless times to escape your imprisonment, but there is no escape from death.

  You have been in the netherworld since drowning in the naga’s embrace. You have no idea how long you have been dead. Time doesn’t seem to pass down here. It is cold on the bottom of the lake, and deathly still. You are weighted down by your wrists and ankles, floating like a starfish facing the surface you will never reach. You are not alone in this underwater hell, either. There are others too, demons and monsters who like to use you as they please. Their nightmare shapes fill your imagination during the quiet moments. Every shadow in the water makes you wish there was no afterlife.

  You feel a disturbance in the water. Something big is approaching. You squeeze your eyes shut and lie still hoping whatever it is somehow misses you. A tentacle brushes your leg, its suckers sticking to your skin. It’s him, the one who rules this realm. You have never truly seen him, though you have felt his form countless times. This time you force yourself to look at him, deciding that madness is better than eternal suffering.

  A tentacle sweeps over your eyes before you can get a good look. An unknown language drifts through your brain, faint like a whisper. You feel calm. He does not want you to go mad. He will be gentle this time.

  THE END

  Back to the start.

  —

  Vale sits on the throne that once belonged to the king of Tyven. Now it belongs to the king of all realms, above and below. On his head is a crown of scorched human bones.

  Around your neck is a collar, a mark of your servitude. You wear nothing else. The demon was not happy with your refusal to serve him. Your place is in a cage in the center of the throne room. Often there are others in the cage with you, creatures handpicked by Vale’s most trusted servants to make sure he is entertained. Him, and anyone who passes through the throne room.

  Today, you are squished against the side of the cage while an imp takes its leisurely fill of you. Over your shoulder you watch Vale as he reads the most recent letters from the heads of the Order in each city. The takeover was fast. The Old One granted Vale his power and crowned him king over the new world. Most nobles bowed to their new leader without question.

  The imp keeps to its sluggish pace, its cock sliding in and out, in and out, occasionally breaking rhythm as it changes holes.

  Vale throws down the letters and sighs dramatically. “I’m bored.” He snaps his fingers for a servant to attend him. “Bring kitten something new to play with.”

  You break out in a cold sweat, fear making you tremble. No matter how many times it happens you are still unable to numb yourself to the horror of a new monster. Sometimes you are used so roughly that you are unable to move for days afterwards. Other times your mind is shattered and you lose yourself to madness. You beg and beg for depraved things to be done to you, listening in horror to the words coming out of your mouth. But the Order’s mages are master healers and always bring you back to sanity. It’s worse that way. Madness is kinder.

  One of Vale’s attendants comes to take the imp from your cage. You back into the far corner and feel a crumple underfoot. It is a small scroll lying on the floor of your cage. You turn your back to Vale on his throne and unfurl it. The script is compact but flawless.

  Wait for the one with a key in its mouth. When the castle sleeps, we will come.

  - S

  You tear the parchment into minute scraps and scatter them among the debris on the floor of your cage.

  Sybil is coming for you. You will soon be free.

  THE END

  Back to the start.

  —

  Vale sits on the throne that once belonged to the king of Tyven. Beside him stands the Old One, his hand stroking the mage lovingly. On Vale’s head is a crown of scorched bones, the mark of the new king of all the realms.

  You wear a collar, a mark of your servitude. You are allowed to wear nothing else. Your place is in a cage in the center of the throne room. Often there are others in the cage with you, creatures handpicked by Vale’s most trusted servants to make sure he is entertained. Him, and anyone who passes through the throne room.

  You watch Vale as he reads the most recent letters from the heads of the Order in each city. The takeover was fast. After the Old One granted Vale his power, the nobles quickly bowed to their new leader. Most of the kingdom has fallen and only some of the further reaches remain, the largest being the sea tribes and the deep forest dwellers who are not as easily scared by monsters and magic.

  Vale throws down the letters and sighs dramatically. “I’m bored.”

  The Old One’s grip tightens on the mage’s shoulder. “Does ruling the kingdom tire you?” he asks. “There are others who would commit all manner of atrocities for your position. Shall I seek someone new?”

  Vale’s expression pales. “No, master. But what use is the power you granted me if I can’t use it? I should be out there enjoying what is mine. I need to.”

  The Old One’s grip tightens. Vale winces in pain. “Is your little cock yearning for blood, for violence?” He yanks Vale up off the throne and forces him against it. “Because I can show you violence.”

  Vale moans as the Old One’s hand closes around his throat.

  You turn your back on them and feel a crumple underfoot. You find a small scroll on the floor of your cage and unfurl it. The script is compact but flawless.

  Wait for the black rat. He carries the key. When the castle sleeps, we will come.

  - S

  You tear the parchment into minute scraps and scatter them among the debris on the floor of your cage.

  Sybil has not forgotten about you. You will soon be free.

  THE END

  Back to the start.

  —

  The frosty grass crunches under your boots as you make your way across the field. Your steps are hurried. Your breath forms little white clouds in the cold. You need to talk to Sanley.

  Since your arrival in Black Hollow you have grown quite close to the town’s keeper, telling him almost everything about your journey from the forest to the capital. He is easy to confide in and has never once betrayed your confidence. He is also easy on the eyes, and good in bed. He makes sure you are comfortable in the town and treated well. In exchange you help him look after town and do odd jobs as needed for its residents. Until now, you had mostly been able to forget the nightmare you left behind in Tyven. That is, until you checked the hare traps this morning.

  Your footsteps sound hollow on the bridge into town. You don’t like how early it is, how few people are out. It reminds you of the first time you came to Black Hollow. And as ever, Sanley is there to greet you.

  He knows something is wrong even before you speak. His eyes express concern even before his words do.

  “You took longer than usual,” he says.

  You thrust out the burlap sack you usually bring hares back in. He takes it and looks inside.

  “Where did you find this?” he asks.

  “In the trap by the old mill,” you reply. It was the last trap you had to check before coming back. All the othe
rs had been empty. And at the mill, caught with its neck snapped, was an imp.

  “I’ll take care of it, kitten,” Sanley says, leaving with the sack before you can say anything.

  Kitten.

  The name leaves you with a cold rush of dread. Why would Sanley call you that all of a sudden? Unless…

  No. You escaped Vale. The mage is still in Tyven watching over the Order and their monsters. He has nothing to do with the man whose bed you’ve shared these past months, whom you’ve grown to trust so deeply. You must have just heard wrong. The dead imp made you jumpy, that’s all.

  Or maybe you were never free of Vale to begin with.

  THE END

  Back to the start.

  —

  You come to find that the town has no name. It has never needed a name, being so disconnected from the business of the rest of the kingdom. The orc-lizard-cat folk let you stay in their town and work odd jobs in exchange for food and lodging at the inn. You find plenty to keep you busy between the work and the late nights at the bar with the town’s men. You are somewhat of a novelty as the only human woman within miles.