Vaid Empire: Conquest

Vaid Empire: Conquestis a massive fantasy series that aims to mixeroticawith the quality of a published novel. New chapters and artwork are released every month for free, with the completely optional possibility to receive early access on the official Vaid Empire Website. The Series focuses heavily on worldbuilding, story, and characters.

The world of Ayphieal is shattered and chaotic, with kingdoms and tribes of six distinctive races vying for territory amongst themselves. It is only when a young human warrior finally pushes back against the chaos that the world begins to shift towards order.

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46th of Iahta, 19 AVE.

Kingdom of Lian, Near Lanvale.

The eldest daughter of The God Emperor, the first member of House Vaid should fear nothing, yet as the city she sought to claim loomed above her, Cendrafeared.

Behind, her legion readied their spears and swords. Archers nocked their arrows. Another long march through the brutal jungle had left them weary and worn, yet as their enemy gathered ahead in a swarm of fluttering wings that seemed to fill the sky, they prepared to meet the Lanthians with the might of The Empire.

Surrounded by her Privictis Knights, Cendra drew her sword. A flame ran up the shimmering white blade as she held it high. "To victory or death!" she shouted, for such was her fate. There was no going back. Here she rose, or here she fell. "For The Empire!"

The legion poured through the trees towards their foe. A storm fell upon them. Not of rain, but of arrows and spears, hurling down into their flesh and ricocheting off their dirty white armor.

Heart pounding, hearing the screams of death around her and in her memories, Cendra flicked her blade to send a wave of flame into the sky. The fingers of her Knights ignited, sending their own blasts of fire to join those of their princess. Burning wings fell writhing into the mud as Lanthian warriors were brought down, only to be replaced by countless others.

A spear came from above. Cendra's blade tore it aside before driving through its wielder. The agony upon the woman's green face flashed a memory of Elmia's death through her mind as she blinked, pulling her sword free of the fallen warrior with horror in her silver eyes. She felt her throat tighten, as if she was being pulled back down into the waters beneath her burning fleet.

High Lords and commanders led their warriors at either side. The wingless fought against the sky, swords slashing whenever a Lanthian dove to strike at them. The strongest of men were cut down by the fury of their female foes as powerful green wings flapped all around. Neat battle lines and strategy fell to chaos as their enemies came from all directions.

Cendra turned to see King Galis The Second cowering beneath a shield as his warriors fought to protect the young royal. At her other side, Lord Drivis and several High Lords shouted commands through the commotion as order crumbled and the sky bled. Green blood rained with every human arrow, and fire leapt from the hands of her Knights to paint the sky.

Spear in hand, torn cloak fluttering, a powerful flap of Anthara's wings hurled her upwards. She drove her weapon through a foe, a sister, a fellow Lanthian warrior, before slamming the dying woman down into the mud. Remaining within the ring of Cendra's entourage, she shouted directions as the princess led them beneath the city. No greater enemy existed than a traitor, and as Knights ripped arrows from the sky with their flames, she knew that many of the projectiles were meant for her, as many as for Cendra herself.

The sight of Anthara's prowess fueled Cendra's faltering courage. The woman fighting at her side had grown into a familiar face over the years, though now, in the heart of battle, she seemed to be remade, someone entirely different, perhaps the woman she had been before her capture. Strange Lanthian words slipped from her furious lips as she fought with a skill that, although dampened by time and peace, remained as deadly as Cendra's own blade.

The faint sunlight trickling through the oppressive canopy of thick branches far ahead dampened further as they fought their way beneath the city. Cendra's Knights held together as the legion gradually fractured in the chaos, shattering into pieces as their commanders fought to regather their warriors.

As large as Praith and whatever was left of Tempian had been, they were but tiny villages beneath the might of The Capital. The sky seemed to disappear behind the colossal structures overhead until darkness and the light of bioluminescent plants and fire was all that remained.

Men and women fell around her as Cendra swung her sword, feeling her hands tremble. Memories tore apart her mind, as deadly as the swarm all around. At her side, Anthara shouted, pointing, guiding her towards the city's center from below, fighting inch by inch across the muddy ground.

An arrow caught the neck of a Knight at her side. As he fell, she sensed his death as a spear drove through his head and into the ground. The strange feeling of his loss sent another memory of Elmia through her mind, shaking her head, blinking as the icy fingers of panic began to seize hold around her neck. She fought against it with the same ferocity she met her enemies with, yet every legionary she saw fall only dragged her down further into the dark waters of her fear.

"I can't." It was a simple thought, a mere two words, though it was her undoing.

Swarmed by fluttering wings, surrounded by screams of agony, she clutched at her head with frantic breaths, feeling darkness creeping in.

"I can't." The memory of the black waters beneath her burning fleet choked her. She remembered sinking,drowning.

The battle ripped her group apart Knight by Knight as they were gradually separated in the chaos. Her silver eyes shifted frantically like a caged animal, turning in time to see an arrow hurl into King Galis's right eye. The young royal shrieked in pain as his loyal guards pulled him from danger, yet he clawed at them in agony.

Heart racing, certain of her imminent death, Cendra's sword slipped from her panicked fingers. The white blade fell into the mud as she scurried towards a fallen log. Shattered open on one side, the hollow trunk offered shelter from the rain of arrows as she hurried beneath its protection.

"Forgive me, father. Forgive me, Clin," she said, holding her head as tears filled her eyes. Once more she had failed. In her cowardice she wanted to die, yet fear held her trapped against the curved wall of the log as she huddled into a ball.

Outside, the battle became a slaughter as white cloaks dripped with blood. Leaderless white swords and spears fought against their doom as every man and woman fought for their own survival. Fire hurled through the air, illuminating the bloodshed in flickering light.

Burying her face in her hands, Cendra heard their dying shouts. A nearby High Lord attempted to abandon his warriors, only for two Lanthians to sweep him off his feet and fly high into the air, dropping him from a distance that no man could survive. Cendra heard the shattering of his bones.

She had failed her father. She had failed The Empire, House Vaid, and her duty as the firstborn. She was no leader, no conqueror.

"Princess?" a voice came from outside. As Hazia ducked beneath the broken lip of the trunk, her eyes grew wide at the sight inside. "Your majesty, where are your injuries? What can I-" With a swift glance up and down, her urgency turned to confusion. "Your majesty?"

Cendra met her eyes a final time before an arrow drove through the woman's cheek from the back of her head. Her blood painted Cendra's face in an instant. Stunned with horror, she watched Hazia collapse into her lap. The young woman's hand reached up for her cheek, felt the protruding arrow with a gurgle, then fell away limply.

Time seemed to fade as Cendra stared at her dead companion. The last of her withered courage was required to reach out. Moving as if in a dream, reality returned like the heavy blow of a hammer as she touched the cool mud decorating the young woman's armor. The feeling shattered her panic, looking upon the face of a Knight she had failed.

"No..." The lifeless eyes of a woman she had trained stared back blankly. "No!"

Another Knight fell before her as a Lanthian drove her spear through his waist outside the log. Leaderless, scattered, she sensed them fall one by one. Each of them she had trained, and each of them she knew well, familiar faces collapsing into the mud.

Fear ripped through her anew. No one was coming to save them. They'd all fall unless she stood. She'd rise, or they'd all die.

Her fingers dug into the mud as she pulled herself from the protection of the trunk. It was a new fear, no longer for her own self-preservation, but for her Knights. The few that remained of her shattered group fought with desperation around her.

Crawling to where she had dropped her sword, she gripped the hilt, pulling the blade from the wet ground. She had failed her father and her own pride time and time again. Here, she would not fail her Knights.

Fire ran up the white blade as she raised it above her head, rising to her feet. "To me!" she shouted a booming command. The flame jumped from the tip, sending a blazing beacon into the air for all to see. A hand wiped away the evidence of her tears. She would not allow them to die.

"The princess lives!" someone shouted.

A Lanthian warrior sought to hurl a spear at Cendra, though a quick legion archer struck the green woman first.

"Retreat!" another voice called out.

"No!" Cendra commanded as scattered Knights and what remained of the legion slowly fought their way to her side. Retreat would be their death. None of them would ever leave the jungle alive. "We fight for The Empire, here and now! Stand with me!" Her voice tore through the cries and shouts of battle all around. The fear that had made her tremble blossomed into a steady determination, her knuckles turning white as she squeezed the hilt of her sword.

The remaining Knights surrounded her once more, and a great relief struck her when she saw Anthara join her side, bleeding from a large gash across her arm, though still alive.

Cendra's burning blade rotated to point ahead, the flames directed towards their goal, ready to pierce any that stood in their way. With a shouted command, she charged forth, surrounded by her Knights.

Remnants of the legion flocked around their princess. Arrows came forth from their wounded masses, carving a way forward as the Lanthians fought to halt their advance. Cendra's blazing sword was a beacon to doomed and dying men, and they charged with the fury of new hope.

Turning at the sound of distant shouts, Cendra watched as King Galis led his men at her side, spewing curses as he clutched at his missing eye. The rage in the eye that remained fueled his march, for something in the quiet royal had snapped, shattered by pain, and reborn as he brought his own sword to bear with vengeance in his maddened gaze.

The colossal city passed overhead as they tore through the fierce resistance of the Lanthians. Mile by mile, leaving behind hundreds of dead and dying men and women each minute, they carved their way beneath the center of The Capital until Anthara pointed upward with a shout to halt.

Long had they prepared. Coming forth, the remaining Knights dropped the ends of heavy ropes into Anthara's grasp. With powerful flaps of her wings, the green woman rose into the sky, avoiding the bloodthirsty attention of their foes as bursts of fire sought to protect her ascent. She swept up to the remains of an ancient platform that wrapped around the trunk of a colossal tree, securing the ropes before quickly diving back down for more.

Cendra offered her a nod of trust as she offered her rope. When Anthara secured it, she began to climb as Knight after Knight joined the long ascent.

Exhaustion was of no consequence. Fueled by the dire need to succeed, knowing what awaited them all if she failed, Cendra pulled herself up the rope hand over hand, using her power to aid her strength and endurance.

Dangling Knights would have been easy prey for Lanthian warriors, yet their blasts of flame from outstretched hands held back the winged women, sending burning corpses smacking into the mud below. Arrow after arrow launched to protect their princess as she hauled herself up and up and up.

Reaching the top, she pulled herself onto the platform, ignoring the screaming exhaustion of her lithe arms. Built far below the city, the ancient remnants of the first structures remained, the very birthplace of The Kingdom of Lian.

When the last Knight followed closely behind, gathering together, the legion's remains continued to fight below. Cendra unsheathed her sword. Anthara landed beside her and pointed ahead, for across several bridges and platforms, Lanthians began to gather outside of an ordinary hole carved into the gargantuan trunk, much like the burial chamber of Praith. Their victory awaited inside.

Raising her sword, she regarded what remained of her companions. They stood at her side, ready to fight, ready to die. "Are we not men and women of The Empire? Are we not children of The God Emperor?" Flame consumed her blade. "We fight in the name of the brothers and sisters that lay dead below! We fight for a dream countless have died to defend!" Once more she pointed her blade. "Make them proud!"

Together they charged forth, greatly outnumbered, swords meeting spears, flame meeting flesh.

The swarm stood against them upon every bridge and every platform. Cendra would not slow. She would not fall. Her blade drew green blood as she fought Lanthian after Lanthian. The training from her father guided her hand. Memories of her duels with Vixin guided her steps.

When the final bridge was crossed, the greatest of Lian's warriors stood before them. With a roar, Cendra charged against the last resistance of The Capital, the final barrier against their victory. The face of every fallen Knight was before her as those that remained rushed to meet their enemies at her side.

The remnants of her fear, her failure, her defeat turned to rage within her, gathering, erupting from the tip of her blade in a blazing inferno that sought to consume the world. The flames of her Knights joined her own, tearing apart the small army that stood in their way.

Marching through the flames, Cendra and her Knights filled the small chamber, finding a Lanthian woman flanked by two guards in the center of the ancient tomb.

"The Miarch!" Anthara shouted from behind.

Green blood dripping from her sword, hearing the shouts of battle outside and below, Cendra gritted her teeth as she rushed forth, cutting down the guards with a swift fury. The Miarch raised her decorated spear to defend herself, though she was no warrior.

Cendra knocked aside the woman's spear, driving her blade through her green stomach with the force of every fallen Knight and legionary driving her sword. Throwing the dying woman to the ground, rolling her over, Cendra sheathed her blade, remembering Hazia's dead eyes as she reached down to grip the base of The Miarch's twitching wings. With a boot upon the woman's back, her strength fueled by her power, Cendra pulled with all her might, gradually ripping the wings from the woman's back until they tore free.

Marching through her Knights towards the entrance, a bloody wing in each hand, she stepped out onto the platform, holding the wings high for all to see. Hurling them over the edge, watching them flutter down upon the legion below, she unsheathed her sword a final time. "The chamber is ours! Your Miarch is dead! Lower your blades and kneel!"

A cry of victory rose up from far below. Shouts in the Lanthian tongue echoed with horror all around, inciting the bloodshed to cease. Once doomed men and women erupted into cheers, their joy and sorrow booming through the jungle.

"The Goddess of War!" a Knight shouted from behind as they poured out onto the platform to join her.

"The Goddess of War!" someone repeated far below. As her blade burned, she heard the chanting begin all around. "The Goddess of War! The Goddess of War!"

Drenched in blood and mud, an exhausted arm holding her sword high, the sound of their joyous chants stunned her. For a moment she didn't understand. For a moment she believed the chants could not be for her. Peering around, however, she saw the loyalty in the eyes of her Knights, bowing before her.

Her throat began to tighten. Her glowing silver eyes began to grow damp. She deserved no such title, yet still they chanted. "The Goddess of War! The Goddess of War!"

A smile finally touched her lips as tears trickled down her muddy cheeks.

The Goddess of War had risen.

Savoring their victory, not for herself, but for those that remained, she watched as the Lanthian warriors lowered their weapons and surrendered all around them.

The smallest flicker of a sensation caught her attention through her joy, however. Peer over, squinting, her advanced eyes noticed a man atop a distant branch. A dark figure, only his pointed white ears stood out from his black clothing. Watching, lurking, he was close enough for Cendra to see his red eyes peering back into her silver gaze from behind his dark helmet. With a subtle nod of respect, he leapt to a nearby branch, moving weightlessly as he disappeared into the darkness of the jungle.

Never had she seen his kind before, yet her royal education left no doubt. Here, in the most unlikely of places, aDrilhad witnessed her victory.

A shiver crept up her spine, yet the cheers warmed her.

"The Goddess of War! The Goddess of War!"

1st of Onis, 20 AVE.

Domani, Capital of The Vaid Empire.

From atop The Grand Pyramid, Dominax looked upon all he had built. The moonlight of Onis painted the city below as the first moon reached its peak, ushering in the new year.

Gone was his crown, his armor, his very identity as he pulled up the hood of his white cloak, concealing his silver eyes. Dressed in only his one-suit, he vaulted over the stone barrier of the balcony and began to slide down the steep slope of the fortress. Reaching the bottom unseen, he pulled his cloak over his shoulders to mask the rest of him, hiding the sword at his hip.

Like a phantom in the night, he moved with silent steps, wandering through the streets. The day's celebrations had come and gone, yet still echoes remained.

The twentieth year of The Empire had just begun. For twenty years he had ruled as The God Emperor, and for twenty-five years he had fought. On this day, however, he had offered no speeches. He hadn't so much as shown his face. While the population celebrated, he had remained inside the tomb, dead to the world.

Even their celebrations had carried a somber tone. Wandering into the plaza stretching forth from the steps of The Grand Pyramid, Dominax stood beneath his own colossal statue. The grand God Emperor towered above his hooded form. Watching from beneath his hood, he waited as women came one by one, leaving small offerings at the base of the statue, each marked in Irith's memory. Tears filled their eyes as they each lit a candle, letting wax run over the stone.