God Rising

Chapter 105

Written by: AtheistBasementDragon

Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots

AN: Who would like to see 'God Rising' turned into a 'Manga' style work? Just add 'Yes' to the bottom of whatever review you give. (Also, no I wouldn't charge for it, it wouldn't be ethical) Well, I look forward to your reviews, they feed my creative energy, do not leave me starving! :D

...Outside of Prart…

After the horn went off, things were very busy, but it was immediately apparent that there was to be no battle that night, the positions were being taken up, camp established, nothing more. A kind of 'truce' emerged over the course of the evening as everybody on both sides was simply too tired to fight each other.

However the next morning, the entire city was up before the dawn, with the blowing of a great horn, and they were up for a very special reason. When the enemy encampment heard the noise and saw the signs of activity, they rushed to battle positions and began to move into counter attack position, to their surprise, the gate opened slightly and a single horseman came out with a white flag, holding no weapons, only a basket, he rode close to their lines, laid the basket down, and ran back.

Hesitant in the predawn hours, a brave man nonetheless ventured forth and took the basket up and opened it before a very tense army. He relaxed visibly when he saw the contents, and took his time walking back to his own lines.

There on the wall the commanders watched what had to be Neia and Skana stand at the center, between the two towers that bracketed the gate, there was a white arch that shone brightly with a continual light spell on it, and the two women were clad entirely in white clothing. Whatever it was, it seemed it must have been vital if it drew them together, awakened the city, and had them dressed very differently than they normally were. So they rode closer, cautiously, and that was when they made out a figure that had to be in excess of seven feet tall, standing in front of the pair with his back to the forces of Remedios and the Slane Theocracy. As they drew closer, they could hear him speak.

The sun broke on the horizon. "Does anyone dispute their union?!" A powerful, incredibly noble voice pierced the air and carried over the city, joined in unison by a beautiful feminine one that was brought into view, standing beside the enormous figure.

"No…" Remedios said in abject disbelief. "It can't be."

Silence reigned for half a minute.

The sound of tens of thousands of swords coming out, echoed all the way to the siege camp, and the enormous figure in black held his staff aloft, and the feminine figure beside him, held up a sword of her own. Contrary to Remedios's words… it 'could' be, and understanding started to set in.

There was not a word said until the staff slammed down to the stone at his feet, and both Neia and Skana sheathed their own weapons as the sun's light passed over them.

"Then we are one! Let none dispute it, unless they wish to shed blood!" Neia and Skana said in unison, then they faced one another, embraced, and kissed deeply, happily, passionately, and the entire city let loose a cheer at the wedding of their heroes.

"Let's go back to our lines, I want to know what that messenger was delivering." Remedios said sharply. They rode quickly to their command tent, with the cheers of the city chasing their backs. The basket was sitting on Suchala's desk.

He flipped open the top and found a sealed letter, he opened it, and there he read aloud, "Thank you for attending the wedding of Neia Baraja and Skana the Bold, as a token of their appreciation for your attendance, we have provided a gift that you may toast to the long life and success of the happy couple." He set the letter aside and pulled out a bottle of wine, he stared at it in absolute disbelief.

"Are they... serious?" He asked.

"They mock us! That was the Sorcerer King up there! And that false Calca! It is not enough to mock us, they mock her memory by making her false copy party to their blasphemy! The monster performed a dawn wedding on the morning of a siege!" Remedios gritted her teeth in hatred, picked up the bottle, and flung it in a rage. The bottle did not shatter.

"Calm down." Yuri said casually, "Marriage is parted by death, so, kill them all, no more problem." She said casually.

That seemed to make Remedios more comfortable, Suchala however, was still seething, a faithful member of the Slane Theocracy, seeing the wedding of blasphemous, undead worshiping heretics was enough to make his blood boil. They could still hear the cheers and the music.

...Inside Prart...

Neia awoke in the dark, predawn hours of the morning, still wrapped in post coital bliss with her lover, who was still asleep. She smiled, and chose to kiss Skana into wakefulness, the auburn haired Vice Commander was clearly not a morning person by nature. She mewed out little noises that were not quite words, and it took several very happy minutes until she at last began to stir under Neia's enthusiastic attentions. When at last she started to stretch and yawn, Neia disentangled herself and drew a bath for them both, they had little time to prepare.

So they hurried through bathing and preparations for the day. One thing remained on Neia's mind though, and she was sure it was on Skana's as well. A small ache now, but an ache. There was none to stand for them in the role of father or mother. Their parents, indeed the entirety of their former villages, were all dead. It made what was to be one of the happiest days of her life, have one vacant hole that would stand out strongly.

She felt that way until the moment she stepped out into the hall and saw the back of the Sorcerer King. "Your Majesty?!" She said in abject disbelief.

He turned, "Hello Neia." He could not smile, but she got the sense that he would have, had he been able.

"I, ah, my lord, my god, Your Majesty… why, how… what brings you here?" She asked as she managed to stumble through a question.

He let out a light, noble laugh. "Lakyus contacted me. She informed me of your wedding. I'm a little miffed I got no invitation." He said archly.

Neia blushed from down on one knee, "Sire, I didn't think…"

Ainz reached down and touched her shoulder, "Stand up, Neia. You are the first of all humanity to embrace me to so great a degree. You served me through all danger, argued for me before kings and paladins, suffered terrible pain for my sake, you are… more than you think yourself to be, in my eyes. Of course I would attend, but more importantly, there is a vital role that seems to have no one filling it in, or so Lakyus says." He said in his grand, royal voice.

"Sire?" She asked, just as Skana exited their bedroom and took her place kneeling beside Neia.

"You have none to stand as father or mother for either of you, so Lakyus asked if Queen Calca and I would take that role. Apparently she witnessed a wedding ceremony of ours on her way to Kedyn, and she saw you had none to fill that place. She didn't wish to see this day have any void that would taint the memory, so she asked us." Ainz explained patiently.

"Of course if you have another…" He said tentatively.

"No sire, we don't!" Skana said, deeply moved by his offer.

"We would, I would…" Neia couldn't finish speaking, her voice caught in her throat, it was a full minute before she managed to whisper out, "I'm… so… grateful…"

"Good, then let's be off to it." He said and strode away.

Neia paused at the room occupied by Lakyus and knocked on the door. The noble adventurer answered the door and before she could say a word, Neia embraced her with a strength and tightness that the adamantite adventurer did not know that she possessed.

"Thank you… thank you so much… I never could have asked them…" Neia said with her voice choked and tight.

"It was nothing." Lakyus said, "This is what friends are for. Now get going, my sisters and I will be out shortly. Gagaran takes forever to get ready." She sighed the sigh of a long suffering and much amused martyr, and Neia rushed off after her bride and her king.

Light music was playing as they went to take their places, Queen Calca was waiting for them outside the manor. Skana impulsively embraced the woman, catching her completely by surprise, only to find the embrace gingerly returned as she gave thanks of her own.

"You're welcome." She said with a smile, "I'm happy to do it, Neia saved my life, you're defending my throne, I couldn't be happier to stand for anyone than I am to do so for you two." Queen Calca said.

It is rare in any time or place or even world, that heroes wed, and how much less so on the day a fierce battle is to be waged, yet here it was, an event that no one doubted would be told in stories for centuries to come.

The Sorcerer King and Queen Calca walked side by side in a slow procession, the city's residents had, of their own accord, parted the way to pay their respects, those who could kneel, knelt, those who could not for want of space, rendered firm martial salutes. The way was lined with thousands upon thousands, so tightly packed were they that people climbed atop buildings to be able to have a place to watch this once in an era event.

Despite the gravity of the day, there was hope, optimism, even happiness, as if the very act of blessing the union of two heroes would make their city unbeatable by their enemies. Step by step, the undead King and risen Queen moved towards the walls facing the command tents of the enemy siege. Soldiers formed an impromptu escort behind them, countless hours of drill had them marching in perfect sync with one another, with their eyes straight ahead and almost entirely unblinking. The unit was composed of elves, orcs, humans, and more, making it unique in the world outside of the areas the Sorcerer King and his subordinates had already reshaped.

As they came to the final turn, they found that Neia's hundred had lined themselves up on either side and drawn their sword, holding them aloft at an angle to be passed under, the rulers, their honor guard, and the couple to be moved beneath this final show of respect. The impromptu honor guard marched past the entry, halted crisply and performed an about face. "Ready! Arms!" The commander shouted, and their ranks drew swords in unison. "Present! Arms!" He shouted, and their swords came up to the center of their faces. It was a memorable moment for all of them, as the royal pair moved up the steps to the top of the wall, and the Sorcerer King placed himself on the wall in front of Neia, while the Queen did so in front of Skana, they issued the call to challenge, and then stepped aside when none dared answer it.

When it was over, the skeletal hand of the Sorcerer King touched the shoulders of the new couple. "As my gift to you both, when all this is over and done with, I will give you a home to reside in. You may pick whatever land you wish, and a home will be prepared for you, along with servants to provide for your many needs. I know you lost everything in the invasion, I would see to it that you not be left homeless after rendering such good service to myself and to the rightful Queen of this country."

"Thank you, sire…" Neia and Skana said in a hushed whisper of deep affection and reverence.

"Now, I have work to attend to, can the people of Prart handle that little nest of rats out there?!" He asked loudly. Swords and spears and bows were raised with enthusiastic cheers.

"I thought so." He said, "I'm proud of all of you." Then he descended from the wall, walked among the crowd for a few minutes, and then disappeared.

The Queen turned to the newly wedded couple and said, "I should probably get down from the wall now, but… when everything is over and done, before you leave my country and find a place for yourselves in a time of peace, come and see me, I will have something to give you as well."

"We will, thank you, Your Majesty." Neia said happily, then she and Skana turned towards the enemy camp, and waved happily, holding one another close, as if welcoming old friends to their nuptials. They were fairly sure that would gall every single person who recognized what they'd just seen, and that made that moment all the sweeter for the both of them.

...Astraka's Camp…

An individual asleep has a lower resistance to magic than an individual awake. Learning this had been something of a revelation to Vanysa, but it was one she was glad to know. Slipping into his tent was child's play, and as she stood over him, thinking how easy it would be to end him, or to simply take him away, she almost did it. However, instead she shook the thought off, and used another scroll. When he awakened, he would be ravenously hungry. She used another scroll, weakening his resistance to poison. She smirked and shook with excitement. She then used a third scroll, imbuing him with a much deeper sleep.

She then used another scroll on herself, a cruel smile came over her face, and she looked him over, it was such a surreal moment for her. He seemed so very human, so small really, she wondered what he must have been like growing up, was he a cute kid? He'd grown into a handsome man, so he probably was, had his parents loved him, or had he just been a tool to advance the power of the family? It was a pointless question, she knew that, yet as he looked so helpless in his sleep, without any of the arrogance or anger on his face, she couldn't help but ask it.

Her cruel smile, which had vanished as she wondered about pointless things, returned in full and she got on to the bed with him, she straddled him as one might a lover, and caressed his chest with her hands. She wondered how many times he'd thought about doing this with her when she was a prisoner, helpless and afraid under a gaze of lust, anger, and manipulative, exploitative kindness so thick she could feel it like the air around her body. Her wings came out and the caress of a finger became one of talons.

'Would you still want me, like this?' She wondered, and as she looked herself over in a moment of vanity she thought, 'Yeah, and I wouldn't blame you, praise His Majesty for his taste in transformations.'

She dismissed the idle thought and lowered her forehead to his, and entered his dream. His dream, to her surprise, was about her. Unsurprisingly, it was sexual. That would not do. She suppressed a laugh, and switched the scene, he was now in the dungeon of his castle, but he was not himself, he...was she.

Drawing on her memories, she put him in her place, while she took his.

Astraka… as his victim, looked around desperately, he heard his cruel voice, into his own ear as he stood trapped in the body of his victim. The whip, he felt every blow, Vanysa made sure to include all the pain she could remember, he was wailing as he darted his face around in confusion, she smiled when he looked at 'his' arm and saw his own bone where muscle had been torn away.

Vanysa played his role in the memory to the hilt, and Astraka, trapped in her former place, was struggling to bluster to the torturer that 'she' was really the king.

"Put her on the wooden horse, add weight." Vanysa said, using the same voice he'd used with her, she remembered all too well how she'd begged. "No, no, please no more, don't, oh god, someone…" only for words to vanish as she was forced to straddle the terrible, simple instrument while he just sat and watched with distaste. She made his dream one where he relived every moment, and shed every tear, under 'his' own watchful eyes, until the moment the door closed.

Vanysa exited the dream, and looked down at him, he was shaking in absolute terror, her life had become his nightmare, and it would run on a loop until he woke up, which wouldn't be for several more hours.

She crept out of the tent, and 'almost' wondered if she'd done enough for the night, but quickly dismissed the thought, and so she visited the supply tents and took all the measuring cups away, and replaced them with smaller ones, not dramatically smaller, but smaller nonetheless.

Then she left, and when she was safely out of the camp, her arms went behind her, hands folded at the small of her back, and she fairly skipped away, beaming with absolute happiness written all over her face with shining gray eyes wide with bliss, and a smile as broad as the river her body had been cast into.

In the morning the soldiers were up and about early, but King Astraka had not left his tent. The doppel-soldiers were happy to explain why, the king had chosen to sleep in, he was so lazy and slothful, while all others with little were working so very hard, he chose to get all the rest he wished.

He did not emerge from the tent until the 'feast' he'd ordered, was nearly ready to be served. When he did, he was bleary eyed and staggering, the rest he'd begun to get, he'd been denied. Moreover, a ravenous, beastial hunger had overtaken him. He did not even address the gathered army, instead he began calling for more food and wine to be brought to him, and he devoured it greedily. Enormous helpings of meat and fruit were brought, and seemed not to be enough, his sense of decorum and royal dignity were gone.

And of course the doppel-soldiers did their part. "He's such a glutton, here all this time I thought he was a noble of regal bearing and dignity, but look at him, as soon as he thinks he has the crown, he becomes this?" Variations of this phrase and that gesture of hand waving disgust came from each of them as the slothfulness and gluttony of their leader was made evident.

When he began to drink wine, it got worse, thanks to his lower resistance to poison, the alcohol hit hard, his speech became slurred and he appeared every inch as kingly as... a tavern drunkard. He got up from the table and staggered away, evidently going towards the slit trench where people relieved themselves, only to stagger and fall into it face first and pass out.

"Our 'king' wants to march us to Prart? But he can't even move from the table to the latrine pit?" A doppel-soldier said, and the words, and laughter, spread as two servants dragged the drunken and unconscious king away from the disgraceful place he had planted his face. And of course they were quick to explain his bleary look as drunkenness from the previous evening, talking about all the wine bottles that had to be disposed of on a regular basis. When that story took on a life of its own, they continued with the next step.

"Hey…" Another doppel-soldier pointed out. "Why is there less meat in my stew?" The other three doppels repeated the phrase themselves after pretending to inspect theirs more closely. "Yeah, there's less meat and there's less vegetables, there's less of everything but water!" No news spread like bad news, and no words spread like rumors. So the doppel's put it about that the King was trying to save money by shorting them on their rations by using smaller measuring cups.

By the time he regained consciousness, his army was convinced he was a gluttonous, lazy, cheap, child abusing, murderous, drunken, violent, and cowardly thug. The march was resumed sullenly, with the doppel-soldiers at every break, telling stories of his cowardly flight from Kasaga, how he'd thrown one of his own men from a horse so he could take it and flee to safety for himself. Over the next few days, at every little village that they passed by where the army encamped, a doppel would take the form of a woman and follow after the army on the morning of their departure, asking desperately if anyone had seen her little boy or girl, and wander off dejected when the answer was no. Sometimes they hammed it up, wailing as if they found a body, letting the soldiers form their own conclusions and start their own rumors. None of his nights were peaceful. She gave him only dreams of herself, but with himself cast into her body, seeing himself as she had seen him, the hateful face, the pummeling, the anger, she made him experience her trembling, and every humiliation, one by one, whatever one she picked, she put on a loop, preferring the worst ones, though sometimes she 'spliced' several days worth of memories together in a pageant of terror that left him waking up sweating and terrified until he realized it wasn't a dream.

There was only one more thing she had to be sure of, and for that, she had to go to meet with Robel, he'd be marching to Hoburns soon. She wanted to make sure he did exactly as she wanted him to.

She looked over at his sleeping form, he was tossing, turning, twisting in the nightmare that he'd imposed on her very real life. "What's the matter?" She whispered to his dreaming body. "You can dish it out to me in reality, but you can't take it, not even in a dream?" She laughed in a voice low and cruel. "Don't worry, I'll give you plenty of practice enduring it all." She added, and disappeared from within the tent. When she was free of the camp, she was so very happy that rather than fly, she chose to skip happily, as she'd done around His Majesty, humming a joyful tune to its completion, before at last she took to the skies and savored the darkness that enveloped her.