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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14th of Twic, 19 AVE.

Kingdom of Lian, Near Praith.

"Here," Hesin pointed to the tree looming ahead. "Time to rise."

Nafalya peered at the monstrous giant before them as it reached into the sky. Only a madman would ever dream to touch its highest branches, yet today, they'd do so or fall. She smirked behind her mask, amused at the challenge.

She watched The Grand Master seize the lead as he began to ascend the tree, black cloak dangling from his shoulders. The rest followed one by one as a dozen Truthseekers waited their turn. When her lover had climbed higher than many of the largest trees in Vaidrin, appearing like a black insect clinging to the gargantuan trunk, he was still only beginning his journey upward.

Nestled near the rear, Nafalya finally claimed her turn in the long line of climbers. Her fingers brushed the smooth wood, rubbery, subtly wet from the jungle humidity. The many wrinkles and crevices were made more prominent by the tree's vast size, providing ample handholds. Grasping a nook, pulling herself to the next above, she knew the motion would be repeated countless times before they reached the top.

Every grasp had to be secure. Every foot wedged in a crevice had to be steady. No rope would catch her if she fell. As the ground grew further away with every passing minute, she knew a misstep would send her tumbling to her grave.

Looking up, she saw her fellow Truthseekers following their Grand Master in a neat line. The robes of thin white silk fluttering from the hips of the woman above her concealed little as she spied a glance, wondering if the woman below would do the same to her. She cared little if she did, so long as the sight between her legs did not distract the woman from her grip.

Peering down, she knew the fall would kill any ordinary human. Minutes later, she debated over whether her powers would save her. Cendra often used her powers to fortify her strength and agility. Would fortifying herself during such a fall be viable? The further she climbed, the more she doubted. The debate soon became irrelevant, for as she looked down once more, she knew even she would shatter like an egg if she fell now.

As if coaxed by her pondering, her fingers slipped as she found the next handhold. Silver eyes widening, the grasp of her other hand saved her, holding with all her strength. She wiped the perspiration from her fingertips, carefully seeking an alternative hold.

Up and up and up. The jungle floor below appeared blanketed in a light darkness, concealed as a low cloud of mist crept across the land in gentle waves. The higher they climbed, the more sunlight trickled through the countless branches to meet them. They passed the halfway mark, ever climbing, knowing there'd be no retreat. It'd take longer to return to the ground than to reach the top.

Except for the woman above Nafalya. Misjudging a nook, her hand slipped, sending the rest of her body tumbling backwards. Nafalya watched her come, hearing her surprised gasp. Time nearly seemed to slow as she judged the falling woman's trajectory. She assessed her own grip, finding her stability insufficient. To reach out for the woman's falling hand would yank her own from the tree, sending them both to their ends. Instead, she watched the doomed woman tumble past.

As a wail echoed, growing fainter, cutting off with a loudthud, Nafalya frowned in disappointment."Eleven."

Never did they stop. Never did they utter a word for their fallen. As they neared the top, the size of the branches matched the great beast from which they sprang. Thick limbs stretched forth, as if able to hold up the sky itself.

She could feel the exhaustion radiating from the trained bodies of her companions. With the divine blood of The God Emperor in her veins, however, she felt little more than a subtle ache in her arms and thighs as she focused, coaxing her strength.

Despite their straining limbs, none made a sound of complaint. None slowed. Only the gasp of another woman below hinted at her panic as she too slipped, hands frantically seeking, finding no salvation. Falling while delectably close to the peak, she had ample time to ponder her fate as it rushed to meet her.

"Ten," Nafalya thought.

Only when they reached the top did they find their rest. Hesin led them onto a wide branch, nestled beneath the tallest reaches of the tree. A canopy of endless leaves still stretched out to dominate the jungle above their heads, yet sunlight poured heavily from gaping holes in the natural ceiling.

"Onward," Hesin commanded after a moment of rest. Mercifully, the path ahead was less strenuous, for they followed the extent of the colossal branch carefully.

A long fall rested at either side of their path, eager to pull them down to an early death, yet the thickness of the branch was easily navigated. When it began to thin near its end, they simply leapt onto the next, following it to the trunk of a neighboring tree and onward.

A jog of several miles to Praith would've been simple enough. Moving from branch to branch, however, proved exceedingly complex. Hesin was required to choose ideal branches to follow, eyeing where they could reach another from afar. As if they were a labyrinth of pathways cutting through a treacherous swamp, some branches were simple to follow, while others were a tangled maze that required backtracking. Some offered safety. Others offered death.

As they were following a branch, minding their balance, a monstrosity reached from beneath the tree limb to snatch a woman's ankles. Of the two pairs of arms that struck, many more waited behind, for the creature's long, feathered body crept forth just enough to seize its meal. The woman went down frantically seeking her dagger, pulled beneath the branch before anyone could offer their aid. Nafalya felt the tiny vibrations in the wood as it scurried away. The group kept their daggers in hand whenever possible afterward.

"Nine."

As they reached a gap they couldn't jump across, Hesin signaled for a rope. A Truthseeker stepped forth, tossing it far to the next branch. Though The Grand Master and the others swung across to a lower branch, Nafalya concentrated, leaping far across the gap.

Hesin granted her a nod. The first Truthseekers had been critical to The Empire, though they were merely human. Now that her countless bastard siblings were reaching maturity, ordinary blood was being replaced for the divine. Vaidspawn were filling the ranks of The Hesian Order, for the original members could compete no longer. Still sworn to serve, many already carried her father's children in their bellies, eager to birth new members. A 'retirement' of sorts, their loyalty never ending.

As they gradually made their way through the jungle heights, they paused at the distant sight of flapping wings. A Lanthian patrol soared through the branches below. When the enemy had passed, they continued, moving silently.

Another gap lay before them. Another rope was presented. Jumping across, Nafalya watched them swing one by one. When the branch supporting the rope snapped, she watched as a swinging woman fell through the air, still clutching the now limp rope tightly. A testament to her training, the woman made no sound as she fell. No cry of panic echoed. No scream called out to alert their enemy. She fell with her expressionless mask concealing silent horror, curling into a ball as if trying to prepare for the ground far below. She disappeared into the darkness as the sun hung upon the horizon, painting the trees with the last orange light she'd ever see.

"Eight."

"She had a slab," one of the women whispered.

The others silently noted their remaining supplies. Three copies of Lalian's translated demands had been strapped to three backs. Two remained.

As the light began to fade, they moved cautiously. When Nafalya saw the first lights of Praith shining through the trees, she smirked. "There. Your victory awaits, father."

Bioluminescent flowers glowed in the darkness as night settled in. Near the jungle ceiling, the moonlight was their guide. Careful steps approached the city, like an oasis of lights in the dark trees. They were close enough to see buildings, and Nafalya eyed the countless wooden dwellings littering the trees ahead. They appeared to circle the gargantuan trunks of trees, lined with curving walkways illuminated with glowing orange flowers grown strategically to hang over doorways and to illuminate narrow alleys.

When they reached the edge of Praith, they slipped beneath the nearest home, following the branches that ran just beneath the city.

Nafalya concentrated, remembering Anthara's map. Though they would not walk the streets themselves, they followed the walkways from below, guided through the chaotic maze above.

Moving silently, they heard the sounds of the population above as many prepared for the night. Some strolled along the pathways, oblivious to the danger beneath their feet. Others flapped their wings, hopping from one level of the city to another.

Blanketed by darkness, Nafalya watched as two women walked across a bridge nearby, leading a slave behind, collared in gold. The sight of his missing wings reminded her of Lord Lalian, eying his mutilated groin.

Another slave presented himself before a mistress. Younger, he was locked tightly in chastity, presumably having yet to fight in his trials. Though still retaining his wings, they were bound in delicate chains. The woman spoke in the Lanthian tongue, strange words that sound harsh and taunting as she ran a finger over his trapped cock. Muttering a whimper, the young man brushed his cage against her green thigh. Nafalya didn't need to speak their tongue to hear the desperation dripping from his lips.

They crept beneath a dwelling. Through the subtle cracks in floorboards that demanded to be replaced, they saw the form of a woman on her back, wings splayed, another woman kneeling between her legs. A hand glided across smooth Lanthian skin, seeking between her thighs. A moan was a moan in any language.

Venturing deeper into the city, they paused whenever a warrior flew by or below. The city was a hive, protected, echoing with life in all directions. For a moment Nafalya thought of Hesin's words. "No matter how tall they stand, their foundation remains flammable."For a moment she was pleased they had found an alternative. Destroying a source of potential citizens was hardly efficient.

Remembering the map, she looked over to see the incubation temple sitting upon a distant platform, confirming their whereabouts. The only building of stone they had encountered thus far, decorated in golden symbols, she wondered how many eggs rested inside its walls.

They heard the flapping of wings below. Peering over the edge of their current branch, Nafalya realized a warrior was rising, her trajectory bringing her dangerously close. Nafalya pulled a throwing knife from her belt and prepared. As the woman passed by, her gaze unlucky enough to find the group in the darkness, her cry of alert was silenced by a tiny blade as Nafalya flung it precisely into her throat. She watched a green spray hurl from her victim's neck before the woman fluttered down into the darkness, disappearing forever.

The death struck her once more, her second burden to bear. It came lightly, dampened by the first. She merely nodded with a whisper. "Rest."

Another woman moaned as they continued. Other dwellings had darkened as their inhabitants settled into sleep. Through illuminated floorboards, however, they passed beneath the figure of a slave kneeling, bent over as his mistress guided a polished rod into his rear. Nafalya's mask concealed her smirk of amusement, glancing up briefly to watch the man kiss the feet of a second mistress.

Her advanced silver eyes permitted her to maneuver faster than her companions in the darkness. She quickly reached Hesin's side, slowing herself to grant him the lead.

When the sight of the round platform ahead caught her eye, holding the throne of Praith, her careful foot slid across a patch of slippery moss. Tumbling over the edge of the branch, she was certain of her doom before a firm hand snatched her arm, pulling her back. Discovering her rescuer to be Hesin, she shared a grateful nod with her lover before continuing. Heart calming, she was pleased she hadn't called out.

Slowly, knowing a misstep would be their end, they made their way around the platform, seeking the tree rising beside it. A public pathway curved down its surface, yet their target was somewhere lower.

Nafalya concentrated, feeling the minds of the guards inside. She gestured to a small entrance carved into the trunk below, following their Grand Master.

For the holiest place in all of Praith, Nafalya found the entrance to be somewhat underwhelming. Little hint of the chamber's importance was on display outside, its entrance crudely carved into the wood. Only two guards stood upon the tiny platform outside, reachable only by flight or a careful climb. It seemed the chamber's greatest defense was concealment, appearing no more important than any other tunnel. Already they had passed dozens of identical holes in dozens of other trees, sometimes guarded, sometimes not. She made a mental note to thank Anthara for her betrayal,ifshe survived the night.

Hesin commanded them to wait. Climbing beneath the entrance platform alone, he pulled himself up swifter than a man half his age, rolling, hopping to his feet, slashing his blade before the bored guards could react. Green throats spilled dark green blood as the women tumbled over the edge. With a signal, he ordered the others to follow.

They made their way to the platform, pressing close to fit. When Nafalya peeked through the entrance, she saw a deep, amber-colored glow from inside.

Hesin led them through the entrance. A circular chamber awaited, glowing, the walls carved from the surrounding tree. Moving without a sound, they caught the guards unaware, moving swiftly as six Lanthians roamed the wide room. Blades from behind silenced their voices eternally, while others were put down by throwing knives when they turned around too soon. No call cried out but the gurgles of dying women.

Nafalya's eyes glimmered with curiosity as they beheld the sight around them. Narrow pits were carved into the floor, and as she knelt beside one, she ran her fingers through the glowing liquid that filled each pit. Viscous and thick, it swirled slowly at her touch, glowing a deep amber light. "The Saitha Anthara spoke of." Peering through the liquid, she saw the outline of a body inside. "Curious."

"How kind of them to save their revered dead for our use," Hesin replied. With a gesture, he commanded two Truthseekers to the side of a fallen guard. "Put a slab on her. That one won't be receiving a burial, it seems."

One of the women bolted a slab to the corpse with a dagger before they strung it up outside, dead arms and legs splayed by ropes to block the entrance.

"Now, we make good on our promise. Pull them out," he commanded.

Nafalya assisted her companions as they reached into the pits, hands plunging into the strange liquid. Having been filled to the brim, the liquid oozed slowly over the edges at their intrusion. When her fingers found soft flesh, she pulled.

The figure of a Lanthian warrior was hauled from her pit, discarded to the floor with a wet slap. Drenched, the woman had been decorated in the finest gold jewelry and loincloth they had witnessed upon any citizen they had observed, a golden spear slipping from her hands. Rolling the corpse onto her back, they saw a large cut running across her stomach, sewn up tightly with care.

"Impossible. She couldn't have perished earlier than yesterday," a Truthseeker noted, touching the corpse's wet skin. Behind, others were hauled from their pits.

"Anthara claims otherwise," Hesin replied dismissively. "I don't care how fresh they appear, nor if I can slide myself into their cunts without too great a disgust. We've come for a purpose, and now that purpose is to wait." He nudged the nearest corpse with his foot, finding it pliable. "Our demands are listed clearly. The moment any of them try to take a single step inside, begin to cut."

Nafalya eyed the other corpses. Fatal wounds had been tended to, repaired as best they could be. A missing eye was sewn shut on one, while another's throat presented a large gash that had been carefully closed. Their green skin dripped as the viscous protection gradually oozed to the floor. The Miarch's time was limited.

"We've done our part," Nafalya thought to herself. "Now, the rest falls to you, father."

15th of Twic, 19 AVE.

Kingdom of Lian, Near Praith.

"It...hurts..."

Electricity crackled in the darkness of the tent. The God Emperor loomed over his son, electricity pouring continuously from his fingertips like trickling webs to engulf the boy. "Savor the agony. Tear it down from its throne and make it your servant."

The young prince remained on his knees, hands gripped in squeezing pain as he fought to endure. Electricity danced across his skin, his back bare to every stringing flicker of lightning. "Please...father..."

A hint of smoldering smoke rose from his form. Only Dominax's carefully controlled flow prevented the boy's skin from scaring. "Never beg. You are The Prince Upholder of Vaidrin, the heir to my throne. You willnotsuccumb to a mere trickle of my power."

Gritting his teeth, holding back a whimper, Arinax felt as if his body would rip apart in an instant. He wanted to weep, to flee to his mother's side, yet there was no escaping his agony. Only mere seconds had passed during their previous session before he collapsed. When he surpassed his record this time, he knew he wouldn't survive another minute. As tears threatened to fill his gaze, the minute passed, yet still he remained upright.

"I've sired an army of allies that share our blood. Should one ever turn against you, merely shrug his attacks as little more than an irritant," Dominax's words oozed through the darkness, accompanied only by the crackling of electricity. "None shall break you when I've finished molding you, my boy. None shall bring you down."

Never could he survive another minute. He'd surely perish, he thought. When the minute was over, Arinax continued to endure.

"The world shall try to rip you away from me. Instead, you'll survive." Flickering light danced across Dominax's merciless features. "You shall stand at my side, claim my sword and throne, and continue my legacy when the time comes. No other fate shall do."