God Rising: The Cult of Ainz

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

Chapter 191:

...Ruins of Wheaton...

Neia found herself again in the quarters she shared with her wife, and her gaze lingered hatefully at the hand that had put itself around the throat of her beloved, and the place where it had happened. "Time to make up for it. As much as anyone can make up for that kind of thing anyway." She said to herself and reached for the silk rope that would summon a servant.

It wasn't long before an elf woman presented herself at the door, but by then Neia had already begun to fill the large tub that rulership over Wheaton had afforded the presumably late governor. The elf woman wore a simple black garment that fell to knee length but was split at the thigh for ease of movement. Around her waist was a red sash bound at her right hip. The garment had a pocket over the left breast, and on her feet were simple but functional sandals with leather bindings about the ankles to secure them. When she saw who had summoned her, a smile broadened over the woman's face.

"My Lady, what can I get you?" She asked with a little bending of her knees in an odd form of bow that kept her hands folded in front of her and her eyes briefly cast down before they met her own as she straightened up.

Neia brushed aside her brief curiosity, "I need... wine, two bottles and two glasses. Also... are there any flowers to be had?"

"No... I'm sorry, My Lady, but the flowers are well out of season." The servant said apologetically.

"I see, well, the wine, glasses... and some small treats, something sweet and finger sized. Do we have anything like that?" Neia asked hopefully.

The elf woman thought about it for a brief moment, and then her face lit up, "How about sugar dusted snowberries!?" She asked eagerly with a broad smile on her face.

"You ask that like I know what they are." Neia said with a sardonic grin on her face.

"They're a berry that grows around the city, when I served a wealthy house here, my master and his wife loved them. I... snuck one, once, and it was the best thing I'd ever eaten." She said happily, sighing at the memory and closing her eyes as she recalled it to her mind. "Of course, he and his wife are dead now, you cut off their heads in front of me during the taking of the city." The continued grin on her face told Neia all she needed to know about the subject, so she went on.

"How quickly can you gather a small bowl?" Neia asked hopefully.

"Two hours I can have a bowl on a tray along with the wine and glasses you request." The woman said as she bounced on her heels as if eager to set about the task.

"That will be fine, please hurry, I want to surprise my wife when she comes back." Neia replied with a slight urgency in her face and voice.

"As you wish!" The servant answered hastily, and without further words, she wheeled about and rushed away.

Neia closed the door and touched her forehead, "Strange, I don't... remember cutting off any heads. I thought I recalled it all. But... no? I guess not."

She returned to the bath and laid out candles, busying herself with preparations up until the moment the servant returned, bearing with her all that she had promised on a silver tray. "Thank you." Neia said sincerely with an enormous smile spread across her face, her terrifying eyes sparkled with delight that the servant spoke of for the next eight hundred years of her life.

Neia, for her part, completed the scene, and felt herself torn for a moment. 'Dress? Armor? Or nothing but a smile? Of all the dilemmas of my life, this is truly the best.' She thought in a moment of happiness, before the choice was made for her when she detected the sound of well known booted feet.

Skana opened the door and looked at the marvel around her. Tiny lights bounced around the room from countless candles, and there beside the bed, stood her wife, wearing a black and white dress beneath a warm and welcoming expression. "Welcome back." They said together as Skana flung the door shut and they closed the distance between one another in the way only those who know the struggle of life and death are capable of doing.

Their lips met and tongues dueled as their arms entwined, until at last Neia placed her hand over Skana's breastplate and pushed her slightly back, so that the green eye she loved so well looked down at her with expectation.

"I'm so sorry... it was an accident, I would never..." Neia's smile wavered for a moment until Skana's hands cupped her cheeks and held her fast.

"You are the bravest woman I've ever known, you've been and remain my hero, I know what that was before, and it wasn't will or wrath or cruelty toward me that made it so. I know it was an accident, and I will help you through it, no matter how deep the shit gets, I'm your woman, and you are mine. I love you, and will never let go. No more apologies, just living on, the best we can." Skana whispered and lightly kissed her wife's lips again, her hands reaching behind Neia's back, and unclasped the binding at the neck, which Neia allowed to fall to bare her flesh.

If there was one thing Neia knew as well as how to find the chinks in armor, it was how to strip it off, and it was not long before the echo of falling gear sounded off the walls like a passionate crescendo, until there lay not even air between entwined flesh. "Come, I know you said no apologies, but even with that..." Neia wrinkled her nose a little bit... "armor and the padding beneath tends to smell, come along, let me see you to the bath..."

Skana did not argue with either her wife, or the sentiment at all, not when she sank into the heated waters and felt hands running over her as she closed her good eye and let bliss envelope her. Not when Neia tugged her dripping wet to the bed, nor when she tasted sweetness, nor when they had tired themselves out so well that each required yet another bath after frenzy consumed them both until the rising steam was the only thing moving from the bed as they finished making love to the fading light of the candles, and the ruined city froze outside.

...Kami Miyako...

Hunger. There is always hunger. An endless cycle of consumption. As the feast rolled out of his home after his slaves had paid the price for his power, he took a bite of grilled bicep, and swallowed it with blissful satisfaction. "Go, feast, feast and then follow me. There is plenty of food in this city, if you just have the will to take a bite." He said to the frozen night air, before turning around and walking back into his home.

"Cardinal... why?" Baxit, one of his few human servants asked with a hollow and uncomprehending voice as he stared around the now impossibly clean room.

"First I feed the soldiers, then I feed the people, when the gods are pleased that we have adhered to the true path, then and only then will they see fit to save us from the undead. We cannot compromise as Dominic would have it. A shame, I had such... hopes for that young man." He said and put his hand on the shaking servant's shoulder.

"Don't worry, I know, even for the faithful, this was a grim chore, but it pleases the gods, and that is reason enough to call it righteous." Yvon tapped him lightly a few times. "Go on, get a bite to eat, you must be hungry. Have something to eat, we should have some meat left, then get some sleep after your prayers."

"Y-Yes, cardinal." The servant whispered as he trudged away. He went to the kitchen without thinking, on the table there was still some cooked meat left, near the back, piles of bones that had been broken open and 'emptied' of the marrow within. His stomach growled as he looked at the flesh, he gripped his treacherous stomach.

"They were only elves..." Baxit whispered as he looked at the meat. "You can't feel bad about this." He whispered on. "You worked with them, you lived with them, you talked with them." He retorted to himself. "But they were elves." He answered back as his hand went unthinkingly closer to a morsel. "But they had come to trust you." He gnashed back at himself and clenched his jaw tight as his thumb and forefinger closed on a small piece. "But the gods said they are not people." He lifted it up. It smelled so good, his stomach was cursing his slowness and punishing him with pain. "But in the quietness of your heart, you knew better." He answered himself again as the morsel sat suspended between his fingers and just below his nose. "But... I'm so... hungry." His free hand clenched around his stomach, and his mouth opened just in time for the hand that held the meat flung it past his lips to sit on his tongue. He chewed as fast as he could as if to keep his own response at bay. Till at last he swallowed, and the response was, "Which of them was that, do you think?"

Baxit slammed his once well muscled hands flat on the table several times, keeping his frustrations at bay until they came out as a squeal and he just kept hitting the table until the rattling saw several slabs fall off and land on the stone floor with a sickening 'squelch' noise.

"Fuck it." He said to himself, and walked out back into the freezing night air. Snow crunched beneath his feet as he traversed the long backside of the manor. "Where are you going, idiot?" He asked himself, his breath steaming the air as he trudged and went on talking to himself. He didn't really see anything around him, he just stared a few feet in front of him at the snow on the ground, which was why he heard, rather than saw.

Misu shivered within the passage for what was certainly hours, she felt her body going numb, and cursed her nakedness more than she ever had before, yet even then she would not move, not until she felt she would die if she waited longer. So backward she inched, making as little noise as possible until she felt the intensity of the cold hit her all the harder as her feet emerged into the darkness. She went out the narrow passage until she had to slowly dangle herself, and then drop the fifteen to twenty feet below, down into the snow. She hit the ground and fell backwards, a painful bruise was no doubt already forming on her bare ass when she struck the frozen ground beneath the still low covering of powder.

They saw each other at the same moment. "Misu..." He whispered.

"Baxit, sir..." She said with waves of terror suddenly washing over her, she scrambled to her feet as fast as her aching body would let her, she thrust her back to the wall with her arms and legs out, "Please... sir don't... don't tell them... I want to live. I just want to live..." She whimpered as tears froze on her cheeks. "I'll... make sparing me worth it..." She whimpered and turned herself around and pressing her front to the wall with her legs open. "I just don't want to die that way... anything but that... please... please have mercy..." She whimpered, her hair bouncing around behind her as she shook her head in denial of the fate she feared so much. She braced her body and felt his eyes on her.

"No... listen..." Baxit said with pity rising in his stomach in place of hunger for the present. "You won't last ten minutes out here. Not like that." He said and tore his heavy coat off his back and held it out to her. "Take this." He said hurriedly. She looked at him in confusion.

He shook the coat, "There's no time!" He whispered hoarsely, "You've got to go! Run to Cardinal Dominic! Cardinal Yvon has gone... I don't know if there is even a word for that madness! But you've got to go! Go warn the Cardinal, unless you want every elf in the city to end up in the stew pots!"

She held her lewd posture and desperate expression as behind her eyes her mind raced. 'Is he serious? He's... no this isn't a trick, if it were he'd at least screw me first.' She cynically, and rationally, concluded, and her trembling hand reached away from the wall and took the coat. She flung it on and covered herself up for the first time in decades. Still she looked at him with doubt.

"Just go! Go before you really freeze! To get to Cardinal Dominic's home..." He whispered the directions rough and fast, describing it all as best he could and as fast as he could, repeating it several times and making her say it back so that he was sure she understood. "Listen, you have to be convincing! Cardinal Dominic may not be a friend to your kind, but whether you should be in or out of a stewpot seems to be a bone of contention enough to get Cardinal Yvon to launch a coup. A coup he might succeed at if Dominic doesn't see it coming. Now go!" He all but begged.

"Th-thank you." She said softly, the dull golden eyes sparked to the slightest bit of life, "I'll never forget you Baxit, even if that means nothing more than tomorrow morning." She turned and ran, clutching the cloak around her neck and at the waist as she rushed on feet frozen to numbness over stone streets.

The wind screamed her demise as she felt her body temperature drop, the snow crunched under her enough to bite her feet like an angry predator, and yet somehow despite the growing thickness, it provided no ease to the feel of the stone as her feet slammed down again and again. 'At least there is no one out on a night like this.' She thought as she leaned into the wind as it strove to tear the coat from her and see her dead. 'It's like the dark gods of this city want me to fail and die...' The grim thought came to her, and she gritted her teeth all the harder and pumped her muscles with even greater determination. 'No. No. I will not fail, I will not fall. I owe that to my brother, what happens after that, happens, but I will finish this.' Misu promised to the ghost of her sibling. 'Lend me your strength, brother.' She prayed silently as she rushed past house after house, building after building.

Her teeth chattered and she looked enviously at the glowing lights in many buildings where people bundled up for warmth in defiance of the freezing of the world around her. For what felt like years, she wondered if she were getting lost, if the snow had blinded her to a direction she should have gone, anxiety rose as the temperature of her body fell, until at last she saw the size of the houses grow. 'Almost there... almost there...' She repeated on a loop as her legs wobbled unsteadily, ahead, she managed to make out the dark shape of a great manor. Calling upon the last welling of strength, she came close to the door, until her body started to collapse. 'No... not here... not here... I'm so close...' She screamed inside her mind, and then she felt a sudden push against her back, a firm shove, and she stumbled forward the rest of the way and crashed against the front entrance. She hit it hard with her shoulder, as she fell to one side, she glanced back the way she'd come to call for help from whoever had pushed her.

She was alone, inside she heard the bustle of somebody's footfalls. She had eyes for the path behind her, and for a brief moment she thought she saw a familiar outline and her eyes froze shut when tears sprang forth, the hand of the outline withdrew and the whole thing faded. She ached to call out to him, but the door opened and she fell inward into the chest of a well dressed elven servant.

Her mind began to slip from consciousness, but she spat out, "Yvon... gone mad." And then she said no more.

Of all the visitors to come to the house of his master so late, an elven woman wearing nothing but a heavy coat was the last on a short list of possibilities, and at the top of a long list of impossibilities. Yet here he was, holding onto just that. 'What does she mean?' Yarvin wondered anxiously. For a moment, he nearly kicked her back out to freeze to death, but her last words before she lost all awareness grabbed him by the heart and squeezed.

He put an arm under her shoulder and dragged her all the way to his master's study where the embers of a fire still gave off considerable warmth. He looked between the couch and the floor, and without a second thought, put her on the floor close to the embers, then went and took up, with some reluctance, a pair of blankets from a closet and returned to cover her.

He looked down at the sleeping animal and grimaced unhappily, "I don't know what runs through that head of yours, she. But this had better be worth what I'm about to do." Yarvin said distastefully, and went upstairs to his master's quarters, he listened outside the door, if he was finished with a she, or alone, he couldn't tell, but it was quiet at least. He knocked.

There was no answer, he cracked the door slightly, Dominic was sound asleep on the enormous bed, he was alone. Yarvin felt his face melt with affection as he reached out and touched the cheek of the Cardinal. "Years a man, and I still see the boy in you, that you will pass before me, as your parents, and theirs before you, and theirs before them, I take no joy in long life, with its long loss." He whispered to the sleeping man. He let his look linger on, a little longer then shook Dominic awake.

Dominic sat up slowly, pushing himself up on his elbows before he sat up all the way. He blinked and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Yarvin, what's going on, what time is it?" He asked, looking out the window when his eyes began to adjust to the dark.

"Master, forgive me, but something has happened." Yarvin said with anxiety that set Dominic's hairs standing on end.

"What?" Dominic asked with concern as he began to slide himself out of bed.

As Yarvin explained about the female that was now unconscious in the study, Dominic narrowed his eyes. "We won't know anything more until she wakes up, is there any way we can hasten it along?"

Yarvin shook his head, "Except to warm her more, master, there is nothing we can do. With your permission I will build up the fire again, but I know of no magic that will warm or wake her."

"How long do you think it will take?" Dominic asked reluctantly as he walked out of his room with Yarvin following close behind.

"Hours, assuming she lives, she was nearly dead and said only that one thing before she lost consciousness." Yarvin replied as they went down the stairs together, the low light of candles making their shadows dance in a way that reminded Yarvin impulsively of how Dominic had liked to play shadow tag with him. Jumping onto his shadow and forcing him to 'freeze'.

"Yes... just like that, never hesitate to stand on an elf, body and shadow, both are beneath you." He'd said to the boy, who always nodded with understanding and told him to run again. Yarvin shook off the fond memory as they came to the base of the stairs and went to where the female lay.

Dominic reached down and touched her cheek, it was like touching ice with his fingers. "Get her an extra blanket, and build up the fire some more, you're right, Yarvin, I've never seen someone this cold. I'm actually impressed she made it this far if she came all the way from Yvon's manor."

"As you wish, Master." Yarvin answered and retrieved another.

Dominic sat on the couch and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as the fire cast its shadows past her body to bounce within an inch of his feet When Yarvin had both covered her and rebuilt the flames, the Cardinal of Wind came to a decision. "Bundle yourself up against the cold, Yarvin. Wear all that you need, and go tell the safehouse of the Agante to put all their internal agents on high alert. I admit my first thought was to dismiss this, but as I look down at the desperate state of this animal, something must have clearly gone very, very wrong at Yvon's residence. By all rights it should have died out there, even animals don't push themselves so hard without reason. But I need to know more."

"As you wish, Master." Yarvin replied and went to carry out his master's order.

"I'll stay here and keep an eye on it until it wakes up, then see what other words fall from tongue when it can be used again." Dominic answered the unspoken question, and resumed a quiet vigil over the unconscious female.

"Of course, sir, but... remember the ah... other matter?" Yarvin gently reminded him.

"The female you saw? The one you knew?" Dominic asked with slight interest.

"Yes... master, I know it seems nothing to you, but when a treacherous snake is allowed to live in a house, it is usually with other snakes. The manor she lived in was Raymond's. And I realize her having an escort is not so strange, given Raymond's 'soft' nature. But I promise you, master, that one was uncommonly dangerous. If he sent out an escort like that with a mere animal, especially a treacherous one, either he can't be trusted himself, or at the very least, it would be wise to reach out for his help as well with whatever Cardinal Yvon is up to."

Dominic rubbed his right eye and yawned deeply, "Yarvin, I value your council like no other, but Raymond, for all my disagreements with him, isn't a problem. It isn't unusual to have a powerful servant or two, after all I've got the whole of the Agante under me. She's probably just a woman who dropped out before completing training to become a scripture. For someone like that to become a servant to him wouldn't be strange, and for someone like that to bowl over a few half starved peasants wouldn't be surprising either."

"Master... please. I beg you..." Yarvin fell to his knees and reached out his arms imploringly, "at least let me go by Cardinal Raymond's manor, if nothing else, alerting him to some possible danger would engender even deeper loyalty to you."

"Hmmm..." Dominic said and rubbed his chin thoughtfully at that, "Yes, that might be useful. Alright, 'after' and 'only after' you have alerted my local Agante to be on the lookout for anything strange, you can go by Raymond's home and deliver a warning to him that something is afoot. Am I understood?" He asked firmly.

"As my master wills it." Yarvin said with a sigh of relief as he stood, and readied himself for departure.

...Ruins of Wheaton...

Queen Draudillon walked the streets of the ruined city, her eyes casting left and right. She felt not even a whisper of the cold, thanks to her enchanted gear. But despite this, her heart was touched with winter chill as the guards behind her kept their gloved hands tightly clenched around their swords. The billowing wind created tiny tornadoes of snow at odd angles, and mixed with the black of both ash and soot alike, it created a mockery of Winter's stark beauty. Her feet crunched over the sea of black spotted white, and snapped her head to one side when she heard a crash as yet another building caved in on itself.

Her soldiers responded to the tension in her with heightened alertness of their own. "Hard to believe, isn't it?" Queen Draudillon remarked as they walked down a long and empty street. Ahead of them lay a large amount of red snow, which had accumulated at the dead end of a four way crossing.

"What is, my Queen?" General Oma asked as she caught up with them as she trotted up on horseback, dismounted, and said, 'Return, Ichabod' and the horse became black smoke and vanished.

Draudillon's grim expression became more pleasant as Oma put herself in the Queen's path, knelt, and kissed Draudillon's hand as it was offered out to her.

"That this was once one of the most powerful and wealthy cities in the Theocracy. It is now only a shadow of its former self. Welcome, by the way." Draudillon said as she took her hand back and gestured for her dullahan general to rise.

"It is." General Oma remarked, her light blue skin reminded the Queen of the glacial ice she'd seen on a journey long before, perfect, beautiful, cold, and stark as the winter itself.

"Walk with me, General." Draudillon remarked and resumed her stroll.

"As My Queen commands. Where are we going?" General Oma said as she took up a position at Draudillon's left.

"Anywhere, nowhere, just walking and thinking. Occasionally talking." The Queen shrugged her slender shoulders dismissively. "Something many of us have taken to doing after the inspiration of His Majesty. His walk about the streets of his domains have sparked many a revolutionary idea, or discovered unknown talents, among his populations, or found problems even his ministers were unaware of. As a result, he often solved problems before they became one or reached a critical stage."

"You hope for the same, Your Majesty?" General Oma asked curiously as they left the bloody snow behind them when they turned down another street.

"It's a poor ruler who doesn't accept good ideas because they weren't hers." Draudillon gave a self effacing smile to her General.

"You were never a poor ruler, you were at your worst, a great ruler in the worst of circumstances." General Oma said with conviction, "Most others would have given in to despair, you never stopped working for us."

"You flatter me, General Oma. But the truth is not lost on me, I made mistakes, and other people paid for them. I do the past a disservice to bury my errors in judgement in my own memory as if they never were." Draudillon remarked, her hair billowed behind her even bound together in a long, waist length braid, as the wind funnelled into the street they were on.

"You're not cold, Your Highness?" General Oma asked with genuine concern.

"No, my equipment will stave off the cold. I suppose you don't require items for that any longer." The Queen remarked as the sound of another collapse somewhere close by, reached their ears. "The city is dying like it's people, only slower. How much of the Slane Theocracy is still alive, do you think?"

General Oma was quiet for a moment, "Are you asking me in my capacity as a General, or as an undead that is created to end lives?" A single dark eyebrow went up as she looked her Queen in the face.

"As a General. I doubt your undead status offers any fresh perspective on this. Does it?" Draudillon asked hopefully.

Oma shook her head, "No, it doesn't. I can tell when someone is close to death, and I'm still testing to see how diverse this ability can be applied, but I can't say how many are alive. As a General however, given what we've seen, and the reports from our counterparts, that over half the adult male population of the Slane Theocracy either is dead, or will be soon. Since they don't put as many women into armor, those survivors are higher in number. As far as the young go, that is even harder to say, since the Sorcerer King takes those away to be reared by foster families or in institutions. Taken together, over seventy percent of this country has ceased to exist at all, in life or in its borders. All that's left is Kami Miyako and the villages around it, and most of those will be as cold as I and much less active, before very long."

"I see. That sounds about right." Queen Draudillon remarked as a peasant coming around the corner saw them and froze where he stood.

Oma put her hand out and summoned her scythe, and out came the swords of the guards behind them, only to stop their actions as their Queen raised her hand at shoulder height, indicating they should relax. She kept her eye on the peasant as she spoke to her escort. "This is a common reaction, we don't wear the black uniforms of Neia's army, nor those forest colors of the elven army, and we weren't present for the destruction. We're 'neutral' in the eyes of the population, even as occupiers. He's not a threat."

Seeing that no aggression was coming their way, the peasant approached, "Please, a coin, something, anything?" He went to his knees and held up his hands as he came to within just out of sword reach.

Queen Draudillon reached into a pouch at her side and took out a coin of her country and handed it to Oma. "Give him this." She said.

Oma approached, and the peasant, realizing that her bluish skin was not an effect of the light, went pale as snow, as he accepted the coin from her. As soon as his fingers closed over it, he shot up to a crouching position, turned on his heel, and ran away as fast as he could.

"Not fond of the undead I see." General Oma remarked, "Your Majesty, after all this is over, and we return home. May I request a posting in our capital? I doubt I'd make an effective administrator over any former Theocracy lands. Hard to rule those who keep running away." She said in a dry witted voice.

Draudillon laughed in amusement, "General Oma, after General Musan retires, you'll have a long career serving me in the capital as my chief of staff. I can assure you of that. But you know, still, that one was braver than most. He actually stayed and took the coin, and he looked you in your eyes."

"Actually... that's a good point." General Oma remarked, "And the way he ran away, he sprang to a sprinter's posture like he'd had a lot of practice. I think... I think we'd better find him."

Draudillon looked over her shoulder, "Guards, go, find that man, I have questions. General Oma, remain with me, we're going back to the headquarters building, they need to know something is wrong."

The guards took off running immediately, following the prints in the snow.

"My Queen, please do not object to any measures I take from here back to the manor. Because anyone who gets too close to you, I 'will' cut down where they stand. You can punish me later if necessary, after we get you back alive." Oma said firmly, and took a position in front of her Queen, and they began to hurry back.

"Very well, but at least warn them to stay well back." Queen Draudillon remarked with displeasure.

"At your command, My Queen." General Oma said calmly.