I shook my head with a chuckle. “I still trip out at the thought of you being this into fashion.”
Suri planted her hands on her hips. “If you spent all your early life in filthy rags, you’d want to wear nice things, too. Besides, I didn’t get to enjoy that last dress I bought for the auction, what with losing my arm and all.”
“Can’t argue that.” I looked up at her, and glanced past her at her room. I couldn’t see much of it, but what I did see was very tidy. She’d even made her bed. “So, you going to let me in? Or are you coming out?”
“You’re coming in.” She reached out and caught me by the wrist, and yanked me inside.
We made it inside the doorway, and that was as far as we got before she pushed me up against the wall and kissed me. A hot thrill flashed through my body at the contact of her lips. They were hot, sweet, as eager as her hands as she pressed her thighs against mine. I hooked a foot behind her ankle and spun her around, turning the tables, and she laughed against my mouth.
Even through my armor, I could feel the leonine power in Suri’s body as she arched back against me. Her hands meshed through my hair, down my back, and gripped my belt. I ran mine down the side of her waist, listening to the beads click against the cold iron. When the metal gauntlet touched her bare thigh, she shuddered.
“So… is this breakfast, or ‘breakfast’?” I asked her, speaking against her lips.
“Depends how hungry you are,” she whispered back.
“Pretty damn hungry.” I grinned at her, pushed the streamer of her dress aside, and pinned her hips to the wall while I went to my knees.
I’d made the difficult decision to abstain from certain types of, uhh, ‘activity’ while Karalti was still maturing. We had an intense connection, and short of walling her off with magic – which I never wanted to do again – it seemed like a bad idea to expose her to all the things I wanted to do with Suri. But Suri’s pleasure? That was fair game. And I was learning now that there were more ways to get off than the obvious ones – like pinning a girl against a wall while she moaned and bucked and cursed me for not fucking her. There was a dark power to be found in going down on her, in the discipline I had to exercise on Suri and myself… and when she came, throwing her head back, gasping, pushing her clit against my lips, her orgasm thrummed through my entire body. The control – over her pleasure, my pleasure, my body and hers - felt good. Really good, and addictive.
“After this coronation, you and me… we’re going farming,” Suri gasped, once I knelt back. “We’re going to level that dragon up to adulthood so fast your head’ll spin.”
I looked up at her from the ground. She was panting, her eyes dark, her hair tousled. Her lips were flushed, her thighs trembling and slick. I felt like I’d go crazy: all I wanted to do was turn her around, push her against the wall, and fuck her… but in the back of my mind, I could sense Karalti’s innocent dreams, her contentment and comfort. It was best for all three of us that I waited.
“Think you’ll be ready by then?” I teased Suri, taking her hand and leading her to the table where our breakfast waited: coffee, Vlachian citrus tea, open-faced sandwiches, lean cuts of cured meat, cheese, and pickled vegetables.
“I think so.” It wasn’t just Karalti who needed time. Suri had some hangups of her own… the legacy of her rough start in Archemi. She hadn’t even known about them until the day before, where she’d seen me mostly naked and had some flashbacks. I was okay with that, and after some reassurance, so was she. It was all part of healing.
We spent a good hour over breakfast, eating together in the cool morning light. Sometimes we held hands, sometimes we didn’t... but we talked, weaving a dance through the things we liked to do, what we believed, what we thought of the Slayer questline and what happened to Andrik. I was wrapping up the exciting finale of the fight with the Void Horror when there was a knock on the door.
“I’ll get it.” Suri rose and walked past me in a cloud of soft perfume. I couldn’t help but turn to watch the way her hips rolled. The pleasure wasn’t so guilty now.
She opened the door to reveal Rin. The young Mercurion’s face was soot-smeared, as was her smithing apron and gloves. She gasped when she saw Suri.
“Oh my god you look amazing!” She jumped up and down on the spot, shaking her fists with excitement, and then hugged Suri around the middle as the taller woman bent down to embrace her.
“Are they calling us for the parade?” I ambled over, and got the same wraparound hug from Rin.
She nodded, her blue on blue eyes shining. “Yes! They… umm… they had some trouble getting Cutthroat ready, but I think it’s done now. You’re good to go.”
“You aren’t coming?” Suri asked her.
Rin bit her lip and shook her head. “No… neither me or Ebisa are really good at parades and, well, anything noisy. We’re fixing your Spear today, though! And I’ve been busy upgrading Lovelace and Hopper with some of the magic I picked up with my last level. Ebisa helped me reorganize my ability point distribution for the Mystic Engineer class, so… yeah!”
“When do you think the Spear will be done?” I asked.
“After the Coronation, definitely.” The Mercurion bobbed her head, smiling. “You guys look so amazing. I’m so proud!”
Suri ruffled Rin’s hair and flashed me a wry smile over her shoulder. “Well, go get your dragon. I guess you’ll be flying, so we’ll meet you at the church?”
“Sure will. We’ll go down for you.” I wiggled my eyebrows at her. Suri’s eyes narrowed, but she blushed.
Karalti was busy grooming herself when I returned to our quarters, sitting in the middle of the bedroom with one leg tucked underneath her and the other sticking straight up in the air. She looked up at me as I got her saddle ready, her forked tongue sticking out between her front fangs. “Is it time already? I haven’t gotten everything clean yet!”
“Too bad, Tidbit.” I patted the saddle. “Time to fly.”
Level 6 was likely to be the last level where Karalti and I could enter a private suite together. She had to squeeze through the door to the balcony. When she hit Level 7… we were going to have to work out some different sleeping arrangements.
When we were saddled up, she glided out to the battlements of the Keep, looking out over the valley and the city just beyond it. My heart lifted as I took in the sight of the high-walls, the dark steeples, the amber and gold domes cresting the church in the center of Taltos. The vanguard of the coronation parade was working its way down the switchback road – voivodes and satraps, knights on hookwings, banners rippling in the warm summer wind. Behind them rode the Black Legion of the Vulkan Garrison, then the Knights of the Red Star on their black destrier hookwings and quazi, resplendent in their red lamellar. They surrounded the Royal Coach, the grand golden carriage that bore Ignas toward the city gate.
Behind them, Suri rode sidesaddle on Cutthroat. The huge hookwing had her head down and her shoulders hunched, skulking after the coach and radiating dejection. Somehow, the stable hands had draped her with decorative red-and-white silk barding woven through with roses. The barding already looked tattered and dirty, and quite a few of the flowers were rumpled.
“Ready?” Karalti asked me.
I pushed myself back along her back, settling into position, and squeezed the saddle grips tightly. “Always.”
Karalti trumpeted, beating her wings stiffly by her sides to warm them up, and then launched herself from the parapets into the open sky. The torque hit me in the belly, and I whooped and laughed as she glided down in a looping spiral toward the city below.
Coronations were an involved affair, taking weeks – if not months – to set up IRL. But this was a videogame, and so Taltos had blossomed with decorated canopies and streamers after only a few days, cheering crowds, festival food, and perhaps an undercurrent of bewilderment that the populace suddenly had a new Volod.
For the duration of the ceremony, Karalti stood behind the sacred forge in the Church of the
Maker, her wings held out behind the new High Forgemaster, Kaled Ferenz, as he crafted the crown Ignas would wear for his term as Volod of Vlachia. The tradition of the land was that every new king wore a crown forged from the materials of the old one. Andrik’s had not been recovered, so the materials were new.
There was no choir to sing in this church. The only sound was that of the olive-skinned priest expertly banging out and shaping silver and rubies, steel and gold into a coronet. Ignas waited on a wooden throne in front of the dais where Forgemaster Ferenz worked, his long face still and meditative as he waited in his regalia with his eyes closed.
When the hammer struck metal for the last time, the grand vaulted room fell silent. Ferenz lifted the glowing crown in his tongs, then quenched it for all to see. It frothed and bubbled, and when he pulled it free, a hushed murmur went up around the crowd.
“Do you accept Ignas Corvinus the Second as your rightful King, to assume the Domain of Vlachia and all of its lands and principalities?” He called out in a loud, clear voice.
“Agreed, so be it, long live the king!” The crowd screamed back.
The High Forgemaster went to Ignas. He waited in the throne in front of the forge, heavily robed and holding a scepter and sword. When the Forgemaster placed the crown, I saw his weathered features relax with relief.
I smiled as the church erupted with cheers, and each one of the attending priests moved forward to give the new Volod their blessing. The High Forgemaster was not the only celebrant here: representatives of Matir, Veela, Solnetsi, Veles and Perun were all here today, priests who had been in hiding during Andrik’s reign. He also received a musical blessing from two Meewfolk – a female pair whose outfits resembled those of Japanese shrine maidens - and a gift from a trio of Mercurions. To my pleased surprise, it was Mix and his two spouses. They presented the new Volod with a finely made saddle for his quazi.
“Nice political move on his part,” I whispered to Suri. “Sure to ruffle a few feathers in court.”
“Fuck ‘em,” Suri replied. “They’ll deal.”
Once all of the pomp and ceremony was over with, Ignas rose in his mantle of heavy robes, and held up the sword and scepter.
“Citizens and guests of Vlachia! These hard years of exile have taught me much,” he said, his voice booming off the high ceilings. “After having my name slandered and smeared, I escaped the country, pursued by assassins hired by my brother. When I returned, I lived among the least of you. I survived only because of the grace and generosity of the poorest people in Vlachia, the fishmongers and tanners and charnel workers. These people - human, Tlaxi’ca, Prrupt’meew - supported me in ways large and small as I pursued justice for myself and my House. I did things I am not proud of, but which needed to be done... and I am humbled by your re-acceptance of me. I pledge to return all that was given to me in my capacity as your new Volodniy!”
Cheers went up from the crowd, and I winced as the roar pierced my eardrums.
“I guess the motives of the Slayer have to remain secret,” I remarked to Suri, listening as Ignas continued his speech.
“Politics. It is what it is.”
“Think they’d be as happy with him if they knew that he was behind Kanzo murdering people and blowing shit up?”
Suri gave me the side-eye. “You gonna be the one to tell them?”
“No. I was a soldier in my past life. If there’s one thing it taught me, it’s that sometimes you have to kill, and sometimes good people end up dead. My conscience is happier with a handful of dead people than it would be with an entire nation of oppressed and dead people.” I paused to suck thoughtfully on a tooth. “But you have to admit, our knowledge is a pretty serious point of leverage on Ignas. I think you and I should be keeping an eye out for assassins coming in through the windows.”
“You think he’d do that?”
“I think he survived and eventually triumphed by becoming a crime boss.”
Once the speech was over, Ignas swore in his new Kingsguard selected from the Raven Knights, and then nodded to us as he resumed his throne.
“Today would not have been possible without the efforts of three rare individuals. Starborn, from foreign lands, they made every effort to bring the Slayer and my brother to justice. Solonkratsu Karalti, Suri Ba’hadir, Dragozin Hector, please come forward.”
We did. Suri took a knee, as did I. Karalti bowed, but then stood tall.
“You gave everything you had to a nation that is not your own,” he said. “And as I promised, you will be rewarded. Therefore, I am bestowing each of you with citizenship and a noble title - the peerage of Count and Countess - along with your material reward.”
I nearly choked on my tongue. So did Suri. A noble title? What did that mean for us?
“Do you accept?” He asked.
Suri bowed from the neck. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
“What do you think, girl?” I asked Karalti.
“I’m already a queen,” she replied. “I can be a Countess, too.”
I cleared my throat and bowed my head. “I answer for both Karalti and myself. We accept, Your Majesty.”
Ignas touched us on the shoulders with his sword, and two pages came forward with coronets and long cloaks, laying them over our shoulders.
[Congratulations! You have earned a noble title: Count (Honorary). +1500 fame in Vlachia! Read the Count/Countess article for more information.]
[New Archemipedia entry: Counts/Countesses in Vlachia.]
“Rise, Count and Countess Dragozin, Countess Ba’hadir.” Ignas stepped forward and bowed from the waist to Karalti. He embraced Suri, whispering to her while the crowd behind us cheered and gossiped. My hackles were starting to rise by the time he came to me.
“The courtesy position of Count comes with an opportunity, which we will discuss later.” Ignas spoke quietly by my ear as he clapped me on the back.
“What about Rin and Ebisa?” I asked.
The Volod stood back, hands gripping my arms. “I already offered her and Rin a peerage... they refused.”
“Can’t say I’m surprised.” I smiled back.
“Indeed.” The Volod inclined his head to me. “Now, do take a seat. Once all this nonsense is over with, we’ll meet in the Writing Room back at the Keep. I’ve learned something I think you will be very interested to know.”
Chapter 47
The Writing Room turned out to be the private parlor with the secret door, the same room where Andrik had asked me to kill his brother. Suri and I arrived to find Ignas examining the fireplace, running his fingers over the edge of the marble. He had shed his coronation finery in favor of the soft, dark leathers he’d been wearing when we met him at the Nightstalkers arena. Ebisa and Rin were waiting with him, sitting on a small sofa together with their arms touching. They had a long bundle resting across their laps.
The Spear of Nine Spheres emitted a silent energetic pulse as I entered the room, lifting the hairs on my arm. Ebisa stood as the door closed behind me. She was dressed for crafting, in a tight leather tunic and heavy leather gloves, apron, and boots.
“Do you wish to speak first, or should I give him the spear?” She asked Ignas.
“Go. Give it to him.” Ignas turned to face me. “And take this. Catch.”
He threw something at me. I caught it in both hands, and looked down to see the [Ravensblood Ruby].
“The Spear has some odd relationship with this stone, but only when you are holding it,” he remarked. “I’m curious to see what happens now that the weapon is fixed. Perhaps you will be able to solve the mystery of the memories it stores.”
“The memories it stores?” I watched as Ebisa untied the fabric, buzzing with anticipation.
“They seem to be from something that was not human,” Andrik replied. “The contents of the stone mystified and captivated my ancestors, but they ever only saw glimpses of what it contains. You have insight into the draconic psyche that we do not. I will give you the command words and show you, once we see
what happens with the Spear.”
Ebisa unveiled the weapon, and both Suri and I gasped at the sight of it. The cracked, battered, tarnished polearm was now a glorious curve of polished blue steel. The long blade had been restored to a mirror finish, and the metal crawled with hairline seams of white magical energy. They moved in orderly patterns through the looping Damascus-style finish, sweeping up like motes of dust from wherever Ebisa’s hands made contact. She had bound tightly woven knotwork around the haft for grip, and had attached a long braided cord just under the blade. She’d even repaired the shallow divots that studded the weapon: four at the base, four just beneath the head of the spear, and one on the blade itself.
Swallowing, I reached out to take it.
The Spear of Nine Spheres
Soul-Bound Weapon
Slot: Two-Handed
Item Class: Relic
Item Quality: Mastercrafted
Damage: 110-121 Slashing or Piercing
Durability: 100%
Weight: 1lb
Special: +4 Dexterity, Soul-bound, +150 HP, +15% evasion
Dancing black energy cracked over my hand as I clasped the elegant haft, but I struggled to disguise my disappointment when I saw its stats. It wasn’t all bad, because this Spear was lighter than almost any other polearm I could buy. Its bonuses had improved, too - double dex, triple the HP bonus, and it had swapped two Def points for 15% evasion, which was nice... but it did less damage than the Alpha Rod, a Common grade weapon I’d bought at the local smithy.
“Wow,” I said. “This is... it’s gorgeous.”
“Isn’t it?” Rin said. “Ebisa did such a good job.”
“I did what I could. Had to try not to think about it too much,” Ebisa muttered. “Rin helped.”
“Bring the stone near it.” Ignas watched on with bated excitement.
I drew a deep breath, and then bought the stone in close to the weapon. As I did, the color of the weapon’s mana changed, shifting from white to red. The Ravensblood Ruby was a living heart in my hand, and as I stared at it, the sound of its beating swallowed up the room around me.
Archemi Online Chronicles Boxset Page 76
