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Chapter 4: A World for Myself
A blissful sigh left Allisara's lips as she sank in the bath of blood in her personal Cauldron of Blood. The steam that rose around her colored crimson and her pale skin was dyed a shimmering red from the blood that coated her. She always carried her Cauldron of Blood with her Shrine to Khaine as per her grandmother's orders. In fact, Allisara is the only person that Morathi has told the secrets of the ritual. Not that Allisara actually needed it, but she found an odd addiction of relaxing in a tub of hot blood.
This particular batch came from the recent captors of the Norsca. Children were the first to go around for what use was weak little slaves. The men were more a fifty-fifty, more so for Norscan warriors that were tough enough to survive the life of slaved labor. Women were the most spared, but only because they can be used for... other services. As much as Allisara disciplined her army, there was only so much she could beat down. But, alas, Druchii men will be the lecherous bastards they are. Exceptions were Father consideringnhis responsibility and condition.
When it came to the matter of men, Allisara was openly dismissive. When she wanted the pleasure of skin, Allisara never went for men. Any advances done on her by nobles for marriage and want not would find themselves with their heads on a pike in front of her palace in Naggarond. Malekith actually had to make it a law that such contracts go through him directly, but Ruby knew that Father will deny every single one. She goes as far as cutting their genitalia before they were sacrificed into her Cauldron of Blood. Seras was always a free fuck ever since she was brought into the Witch Elves eight years ago. The pair had a more than mutual friendship by Druchii standards. Friends in Druchii society meant 'I won't stab your back, and I won't stab yours'.
Allisara and Seras were more on the lines of a master-servant relationship without the mind break and the benefit of pleasure for the both of them. She will admit that former detail goes a little loose because Seras sure does love to go wild, and Allisara certainly wasn't going to complain. A weak-willed servant was boring, but one like Seras with the right balance of loyalty and fire of will... it was enough to send blissful shivers through Allisara remembering the night they kept each other warm.
Oh great, now she really needed that fuck, but she was forbidden by Morathi to let anyone share her Cauldron bath. With a sigh, Allisara walked to center of the blood bath and began to properly clean herself. She held her by the base of her skull and dipped her head into the warm liquid. When she receded back to the surface, her face was drenched in the mystical blood, and her hair was stuck in a crimson sheen. Allisara did not have to worry about any diseases from the sacrifices thanks to the runes in the Cauldron that powered the ritual.
Allisara finished her ritual bathing in the blood and proceeded to simply relax on the edge of the Cauldron. Her eyes went up to the ceiling that was once the small manor of Wulfrik the Wanderer. The rugged wood that was the palpable material of the Norsca was already being replaced by Druchii architecture, but only so much can happen in a week. As soon as the slaves can set to work in mining and construction, Allisara will have to deal with the vulgar shelter the Norsca consider homes. She was going to turn this very manor into her own palace with a black tower to leer upon the lands to the south.
An hour later, Allisara exited the Cauldron and, regrettably, washed the blood away in a nearby rinsing pool she had set up nearby. She was at least thankful to Wulfrik having a decently sized bathing room with a high ceiling and a large pool. The smell, however, was an annoyance.
Fucking Norscans. Fucking barbarians. Fucking humans. Fucking hairless apes that dare call themselves sentient beings when they couldn't have the decency to clean themselves of their filth. Lower mongrels that dare to defy the Druchii, their obvious superiors in this cruel game of life.
Allisara took in a deep breath to calm her nerves. That was the elf talking, but there was no need to throw a temper tantrum over a ridiculous reason. The humans will get what they deserve. In her mind it involved being stools for Allisara to step on when she makes her way through the streets. She really needed Seras here to have a fuck for stress relief.
As she stepped out of the pool, Allisara took a moment to see her whole nude body in the reflection. Truly, she was a beauty of the world, much like Grandmother who still was the obsession of most men of the whole world. Pale skin smooth and without fault like ivory in the light of the moon made for a sensual sight enough to make men shiver if they even saw her without her armor. In full nude, Allisara was sure that any mortal man was wrapped in her finger.
Allisara stood at a total height of 6 feet, beginning with toned legs lengthened what seemed a league for a pleasing sight, and the muscle twitched ever so slightly underneath ready to crush even stone if she wanted to. She was largely fit with abs of muscle on her flat stomach, and her arms were built for a warrior princess like herself. One who constantly wields wall-smashing weaponry to be precise. To top it off were her sizable assets of a supple D-cup.
But the Witch Princess was not without her scars. Noticeable ones appeared as darker shades on her body. There was only one visible on her front going down from the right nape of her neck to the top of her chest. A new recent one was where Wulfrik struck his broken blade in her side, but it was hard to actually look for it since it never went too deep. But most of the scarring was on Allisara's back consisting of random lines of dark grey scratched across as though her back was a pale canvas. These were done in her youth whenever she got to uppity with her father. Such cases included attacking servants in a rage, using magic without permission, or even defying her father with heated words.
She loved her father, that Allisara knew to heart for he was the one to raise her and make her strong, but there were times where cruel discipline needed to be done. Her eyes momentarily flinched remembering the cracks of the sharp whips tearing into her back without mercy. Each time she cried out in apology, but each time Malekith ignored her plight. Never could Allisara know what he expressed behind his mask. Was it disappointment? Wrath? Or maybe even sorrow to strike his own blood? For whatever else, Malekith never said a word during those punishments, and that silence from her father tore at Allisara's soul. It was not the pain that terrified Allisara, but it was the simple fact of Malekith never acknowledging who he was torturing in those punishments.
Never again did Malekith need to punish Allisara for the same reason, nor did he have to make the punishment more severe. He could have locked her in a room, naked, secluded from the light, and all for a week without food. If Allisara ever thought she made the same mistake, she would gladly punish herself by cutting her back with a knife.
Never will she ever displease Father. Her father was everything to her and is the sole reason that Allisara even existed in the first place. For simply bringing her into this world and nurturing her, Allisara automatically owed everything to Malekith. He could've simply thrown her away when she was babe, but chose to raise her into one of the finest generals of Naggarond.
However, Allisara was not without some wandering thoughts. They would always come to the same question.
Does Dad love me as a daughter?
She hated that question. She hated it for the feelings of trepidation that it brought up. What did it matter as long as Allisara made her father proud, and prove herself victorious against their enemies? What did it matter as long as she doesn't fail?
It doesn't matter... right?
Allisara violently shook her head to rid the train of thought. She didn't have time for this nonsense. Gathering her clothes, Allisara quickly dressed herself in her royal casual robes, black and purple in color with window to peak at the top of her chest and a little slit in the flowing lower garments to peak at her pale legs. Finally, Allisara put her tiara back on her head, but left her hair free flowing as usual.
She walked out of the bath hall barefoot not making a sound as they stepped across the wooden planks of the manor. The Druchii princess walked through halls of ornaments earned from Wulfrik's deeds. These included a scale of the Cold-Voider, a tusk of an alpha mammoth, and the claws of a dragon ogre. Yet, the man himself was not alive anymore to revel in his glory. That fell to his killer, who in turn proved to be the natural superior.
Allisara found herself in the makeshift throne room. She called it a makeshift for it used a hall to host feasts where Wulfrik would sit upon a lavish chair, by Norscan standards, on a raised platform to look over his subjects. Since her conquest of Icedrake Fjord, Allisara started renovations to make it more of her tastes. Black marble tiles dotted the wooden floor in a path from the entrance, flanked by black iron torches burning dark fires, powerful enough to keep the hall warm from the dreaded cold outside. The path led to a flight of stairs of black stone all the way to a throne make of black iron and the fairest of cushions. The armrests were engraved to resemble the arms of Khaine, her patron god, and his head was sculpted perfectly from iron to fit on the top with eyes of dark crystals that seemed to leer at any who dare to look at Khaine.
A good throne if Allisara would say so herself. Not as grand as the halls of Naggarond, but it was enough to fill the Witch Princess of the euphoria of power. More so that she earned that power in this whole conquest supported by most of the clans, including Father, Morathi, Lokhir Fellheart, Hellebron, and many others. She deserved the spoils she reaped.
Her eyes drifted across the hall till they lingered near the entrance. There on a table sat the broken blade of Wulfrik, the Sword of Torvald. Allisara didn't understand why, but whatever famed general she slew she had the irresistible notion to collect their weapons. It was always some annoying yet instinctive pang wired into her mind to take them, whether as trophies or something else. No matter what, Allisara could not bring herself to let them go because it felt like throwing away something inexplicably interesting. Like the times Grandmother was the cusp of a breakthrough in her magical research, her mind and soul refused to part with her collection.
The question was how to properly showcase them for collecting them.
Allisara stood still for a moment, making herself bask in the atmosphere permeating with the dark arts. She breathed in the malignant air tainted by the purple torches, suffusing into her every being to bring her to a high only sorceresses such as herself can achieve. To slowly let the Winds of Magic into her body and lungs, yet never allowing to direct its flow. Here the room was thick with the Winds of Dark, the magic of the Druchii. The air here was much, much better than the mundane cold outside this hall.
Over the thousands of years, Druchii have developed a natural affinity to survive the cold. Their pale skin that almost lacked life was a sure example. That didn't mean that any of them liked it. In fact, Druchii hated the cold more than most races. They used to belong on a warm paradise until the usurpers ruined everything. Not only did they force Father from his rightful place as the next Phoenix King, the thieves banished them from the island they called home. Allisara's people, Malekith's peaple, the rightful people, were left to suffer in this cold hell, but they endured so they may take vengeance on the Asur, even if it means sinking Ulthuan to the depths.
Those so-called rightful heirs of Aenarion. Feh, how the Witch Princess wished that last liar was still alive so she could have the chance to personally rip his head off. Her father poisoning Bel Shannar the Coward was too much of a mercy for the crimes of betraying Malekith's trust when he wasn't of the same blood. Then out of nowhere are the damned twins Tyrion and Teclis, the self-proclaimed heirs of Aenarion. How dare they! All the bastards were doing was barring the throne from its rightful owner, Malekith, not some pretenders.
She will make sure her father becomes the Phoenix King that he was meant to be. If not, Allisara will make it sink into the ocean so the Asur never dirty the legacy of her grandfather.
'I wonder what it would have been like to meet Grandfather.' Allisara thought. 'Maybe I can ask Dad when I see him again.'
"So, are you just going to hold yourself in here?" Spoke a feminine voice of maturity laced heavily with sexuality to make mortal men squirm, which is the per usual of most female Druchii.
Allisara turned her head to the side at the base of the stairs where she saw two of the only people she could honestly call friends in Druchii society. One was of course, Seras, Allisara's first friend. Ever since releasing Seras from her slavery, she joined Naggarond's Witch Elves. It was no surprise to Allisara that she quickly ascended through the cult to become a deadly Death Hag. That glint of murder Allisara saw was the sole reason that Seras became such a devoted killer of Khaine that she even had recognition from Hellebron the old hag herself. The once half-breed slave that she picked up from that meeting all the years grew up to be the best fighter in Allisara's army, a famed Death Hag among Witch Elves, and a close comrade Allisara knew she could rely on.
Of course, there was also the sex. Must not forget the wild sex they've been having ever since their ages of twelve, and only getting better as they grew up into more fuller bodies. Seras especially for a Witch Elf had a blessed beauty. Her blonde hair granted to Seras from her Asur heritage always seemed to have its own golden ethereal glow to it even in the midst of a flood of blood, and swept down her back in mane of lustrous gold to make even Dwarves grumble in envy. Also very useful to hold onto while keeping each other warm at night since it was so irresistibly soft as much as her unblemished white skin kissed pink to have more life in it than usual the pale complexion. As a Death Hag, she left everything for Allisara to drink into the sight. For example the armored bra that only covered Seras' sizable chest and shoulders covered in pauldrons left everything else of the Death Hag's top half completely exposed. She only had a purple loincloth embroidered in her own strands of hair for 'pants', leaving pale, strong legs visible to Allisara. Sheathed perpendicular on Seras' back were her favored twin swords only as long as her arm.
Allisara shamelessly licked her lips at the body of her best friend before turning to the Druchii woman who spoke. Her name was Cissovi, one of the two magic casters in Allisara's army wearing the usual garb of the sorceresses and another of the rare few she called friend. Her skin was much like Seras' carrying a much more noticeable pink shade to it, but her long hair was a midnight black to show she was full-blooded Druchii. Black armor lined her shoulders up to her neck and golden bra covered her C-cup breasts. Finally, a loincloth as usual covered her 'modesty' from the public eye and her feet were hidden in standard armored boots. The Witch Princess liked Cissovi's black eyes that seemed that everything she gazed was burning.
Cissovi's specialty as a sorceress in Allisara's army is her raw talent in the Lore of Fire, indicated by her black iron staff that had a constant orange blaze burning. Talent and a maniacal turn on to see everything burn in her sight. She was a natural-born pyromaniac that cackled from her black pegasus mount in the air while Cissovi made her mission for fire to engulf whatever was in her vision. Allisara even heard Cissovi mumble in her sleep dreaming of the world literally on fire. And yes, Cissovi was also a blaze in bed as well. The stuff that the sorceress could do lacing fire magic on the tip of her fingers almost made Allisara purr in arousal.
But back to matters at hand which is replying back to Cissovi. "What's the point anyway? It's warmer in here."
"But filthy." Cissovi hissed, wishing to burn every piece of creaky wood in her sight.
"Can you say different for any part of the settlement?" Allisara countered.
"... Point taken." Cissovi relented. "Good riddance to these Norscan savages. They all belong in the shit hold with every slave in Naggarond."
"True that." Allisara nodded. "Going passed the small talk, what news do you bring to me as of late?"
"Besides your dragon having fun with his new mate." Seras spoke up, getting certain looks from Allisara and Cissovi. "What? You can walk out there and you can hear the pair's roars wherever you go."
Cissovi sighed. "Of course that would be the only thing that is relevant to you, Death Hag. It's always with your head in the gutter."
The blonde half-breed leveled a slight glare at the fire sorceress. "That is because true pleasure is in the flesh. Both on the battlefield with the warmth of your killings blood on your skin, or in bed when exploring each other."
Cissovi scoffed. "True pleasure is seeing the beauty of flames ever so hungry in all its true glory. And that is burning it all sees to ashes. There is no better sight."
Ruby sighed in exasperation. This was a constant feud between Cissovi and Seras. They would constantly argue on what was the best beauty of pleasure. The arguments would eventually become dangerously heated in the literal sense as their tempers flared. If Allisara wasn't there to break them up, Either Seras will throw or Cissovi chucks a fireball... or they go into some very angry sex to amend. At heart, the pair were friends as well.
Perhaps Allisara will hope for the best and jump in to make a threesome. That would be... exhilarating. Unfortunately, duty come before pleasure.
"Enough, you two." Allisara's voice was sharp enough to cut through steel and Seras and Cissovi stopped their bickering. "Forget this trivial nonsense for now. I understand you have an update of our occupation on the settlement."
"...Yes." Cissovi said, trying and failing to keep in her nervousness from her tone. "We, uh... We lost Trogg."
As soon as those words came out of the sorceress' mouth, her fears were made real. Allisara's entire motions went entirely stiff, not even the robes she was wearing shifting. Her eyelids refused to blink and the pupils glowed with power fueled by outrage. A pressure descended on the entire hall as the Witch Princess unleashed the immeasurable magical might she held inside her body. Seras and Cissovi fell to the ground unable to stand the pressure, and the wood of the entire Norscan manor groaned in danger of being torn apart.
That wasn't worst of it for the sorceress and the Death Hag. The truly most horrifying sight was the transformation that was happening on their master and friend. Without having her emotions in check, Allisara's magic over Chaos was running rampant. As a result, her left arm began to contort and change before their eyes. Flesh writhed into hardened scales of dark red and bone protrusions colored black poked from her wrists and elbow. Claws replaced her fingernails and veins bulged all over the limb and glowed an eerie purple that ran up to Allisara's left eye. They feared and hated this mutation that happened for a grotesque appearance on Allisara was not what they wanted to see on their friend.
"WHAT!?" Allisara outraged, her power growing to heights that made the metal around them creak. "HOW IS IT THAT DESPITE THE THOUSANDS OF PAIRS OF EYES WE HAVE UPON THIS LAND, NONE OF US CAN SPOT A GIANT TROLL MEANDERING ABOUT!? HOW CAN YOU LOSE SUCH A TARGET!? I WANT ANSWERS, NOW!"
No, Allisara can't accept this. This was supposed to be a total victory, yet Khaine deemed to bite back and allow a high-priority target to escape the battle. Inexcusable. Unacceptable!
"We... We did have the troll on pursuit, my Lady." Groaned Cissovi, using the honorific to get on Allisara's good side. "We sent a whole detachment... to capture him but... none of them made it back... We at least sus- know... Trogg fled to the East. He... had nowhere else... to run. As soon as he is sighted again... his head will be brought back."
Allisara's breathing was akin to a growl of a dragon with a steam an Imperial locomotive tank. Her lips were pulled back in a snarl, revealing that some of her teeth have sharpened considerably. Her red eye thinned more to assume the pupil of a dragon as it glared at Cissovi, making her shake from the raw violence and bloodlust being held back in the orb. Her purple eye darkened to an abyss, piercing through their souls like a writhing parasite.
Whatever prayers they had were not needed. Eventually, Allisara's breathing simmered down and her emotions calmed to a controllable level. Her magical power was held back to relieve the pressure in the air, and the mutations on her limb went back to normal.
"This is... unfortunate." Allisara said in a flat tone that showed her displeasure. "Make it a priority that when Trogg is seen again, he is to be killed on sight... What else do you have for me lest I do something unsavory in my 'surprise'?"
"Lord Malekith has ordered your to back to the city of Naggarond in the coming week." Cissovi informed.
"D-Dad- er, Father wants me home!?" Allisara squeaked, her eyes going comically wide.
Cissovi and Seras had to put in effort to not giggle at the reaction from their master. Over the years the pair learned that Allisara's devotion to Malekith is one of a daughter obeying her father. She puts her heart and soul to make sure her father is happy. Allisara is a Druchii, but it cant be forgotten that she is still a young girl at heart, as twisted as it is. According to human terms, Allisara was a definite 'Daddy's girl'.
Allisara coughed in her hand to regain her composure. "Elaborate for me."
Cissovi nodded. "Lord Malekith that you and your personal forces board your Black Ark and set sail to the city of Naggarond for a special assignment as he has termed."
Allisara was trying her hardest not to shake in excitement. Dad was calling her home but not for some punishment of a mistake she overlooked, but because of a special assignment. A quick change of plans was run finalized when she glanced back at Seras and Cissovi.
"Seras, inform Noghes she in charge of the campaign." Allisara ordered. "Inform Admiral Dawnfall that he is in charge to garrison the Fjord and begin the projects on a suitable wall and dragon hatchery."
"Of course." Seras replied, dashing away to deliver the orders.
"Cissovi," Allisara spoke to the sorceress, "have our troops pull out and board the Khaine's Dream. We set sail tomorrow."
(A Week Later; Naggarond)
Black Arks, the mightiest ships to roam the waters of the world. To call it a ship was not enough. They were floating cities, able to sustain a military community of tens of thousands aboard. Dark magics made them sail across the endless depths at speeds to match any fleet, and power to crush them like pebbles. In the deepest levels housed the Druchii's personal slaves for work, sacrifice, or pleasure. Like any city of the Druchii, a Black Ark was rife with sin.
(Lime Warning)
"Ku-ku-ku, feisty as always, Seras."
"Even against you, I always make it a challenge."
For Allisara, she didn't need a slave to have the pleasure of flesh. Seras was more than happy to indulge such as now. Upon the highest tower erected on the Black Ark were Allisara's personal quarters. No one but she and her close compatriots were allowed to enter into the home of the Witch Princess.
The more apparent at the moment was the bedroom chamber. Two walls on opposite sides were open to view the outside. The floor was covered in a softly-woven carpet fit for royalty, and against one wall was a dressing table with a mirror and showcasing an array of ornamental jars carved with demonic faces. Most of the room was taken up by the bed with a dark wood frame and a canopy of black silk. Under the purple blankets rummaged the two Druchii, Allisara and Seras, in one of their many times of pleasure.
Armor and cloth were put aside for the free exploration of the other's body. Erotic pale skin free to see was only held away from sight by the covers that Allisara and Seras laid under. Allisara laid on top upon an equally nude Seras, her face almost crushing upon the lips of the Death Hag while her arms explored wildly over Seras' smooth skin painted with blood, trying to find some sensitive spot to painfully attack. As Allisara forced her tongue to violate Seras' mouth as she can, but the Death Hag fought back with pleasurable fervor with her own hands roughly scratching on her master's back knowing there were some rather sensitive spots to exploit. The resistance on both sides to overpower the other was the real pleasure in all of this.
A muffled moan from Seras sounded off when Allisara decided to roughly pull on the Death Hag's golden locks. A smirk made its way on the Witch Princess' face knowing she made a crucial opening and 'attacked' to press the advantage. Faster than Seras could react, Allisara broke the kiss and teeth bit on the point of Seras' right ear. Pain shot up through Seras once she felt Allisara bite harshly on the tip of the ear to draw blood and pulling back on it, but the pain let out a loud moan from the blonde and her back arched slightly.
Allisara was not one for mercy and trailed down from the ear biting harshly and licking as she went on the sensitive skin. The more downward she went, the more pleasure shot through Seras numbing her senses and her blue eyes rolled back. It was too much for Seras once Allisara bit down like a hungry animal for flesh upon the spot between the neck and the right shoulder. A scream left Seras throat as she reached her climax, and Allisara smirked in victory.
"My win this time, Seras." Allisara chuckled laying on one elbow to the side, drinking in the sight of her nude servant desperate for air and sweat covering her body.
(End Lime)
Seras panted. "Are... you... sure... you're... not... a vam... pire somehow?"
Allisara laughed in amusement. "Of course not. It's just that your skin is too irresistible to not bite at it. It is always so soft and supple."
"That... does... not fill me... with confidence." Seras struggled in her words trying to get her breath back.
In comparison, this latest session was tame. Allisara and Seras would normally try to bite and claw everywhere like rabid animals to fuel the sensation of pain. Seras or Allisara would have been screaming their hearts out, but that was not the time for that. Without a word, Allisara pulled herself out of bed, standing on the carpet of her bed chamber in full nude.
A deft wave of her hand and the clothes scattered about the room answered her call. First were her usual robes that magically wrapped around her figure. Then around the room, several plates of metal resembling scales floated up. One by one, they snapped upon Allisara's form like building blocks. Interlocking links underneath each scale of metal made sure to connect to each other, giving the underside a layer of silver mesh. She held up her legs one by one for several scales to snap on the limbs to make her boots. The helmet was a separate piece that Allisara simply put aside on her waist. In just a minute, the Witch Princess was fully armored.
"You still have to... teach me how to do that." Seras said with a hint of jealousy.
Allisara walked from the port through the streets of Naggarond all the way to the central palace with Seras always at her side. As always it was dreadfully cold, and snow was falling at a constant medium. It was only because of the dark fire torches that dotted the city that kept leagues of snow piling on the land. Everywhere Allisara went, the Druchii glanced at her in recognition with heads bowed down in submission. The Witch Princess did not care for them for they did not matter.
What mattered was the entrance into the palace where on the other side her father awaited. Her walk to the iron doors was one with both grace and discipline. The guards merely had to look at her before opening the doors of the palace of the Witch King. The only home Allisara knew in her life.
The walk through the many halls of the palace was but a blur for Allisara. Her sense of the world became normal when she found herself in a chamber with a dome ceiling. In the center was a strange alter on three-layered stand. An oval-shaped circlet of twisted iron stood up straight as tall as her, surrounded with sigils and runes she had no idea existed.
Heavy foosteps of metal snapped Allisara's eyes to the source and locked on the man that was her father. Malekith was imposing as ever in a body of black iron that fit his form, and green eyes that pierced into one's very being. His faceplate was expressionless, only settled into an eternal snarl of wrath.
Instantly, Allisara and Seras went on their knees before the Witch King, the King of all Druchii and the true heir of Aenarion. There was no fear in Allisara's eyes, but the adoration she held for her father was barely held back. She dared not to do anything until her father spoke first.
"On your feet." Malekith ordered, and the pair of Druchii females did so and the eyes of Malekith glanced to Allisara. "Daughter."
"Father." Greeted Allisara.
When Malekith ever greets Allisara as such, it was an unspoken permission to call him as Father. That alone made happiness swell in the Druchii's black heart. The silence from Malekith was also a sign for her to speak freely.
"I've returned home on your summons, Father." Allisara said, careful with her tone. "What is it that you have need of me?"
"The highest and most dangerous of undertakings, Allisara." The voice came from behind them, but Allisara didn't need to glance who it was.
Approaching them into the domed room was Morathi, the Supreme Sorceress of the Druchii. As beautiful as Seras and Allisara are, Morathi still surpassed as she wore nothing but a bra and loincloth. In her hands was her favored staff brimming with chaotic and dark powers. The devil's smirk was present and unbreakable on Morathi's pretty face.
"Tell me," Morathi said, "why should we settle on one world and we can take many?"
"What?" Sputtered Allisara in confusion and disbelief at the concept. As far she knew, there was only this one world. "I-I don't understand."
Allisara's response produced a laugh from Morathi. "Oh, little one, you have so much to look forward to. Do you really think the gods have stopped on creating one world? The answer is simply no. Years ago, when you were born, an expedition was made to explore the Realms of Chaos and discover its secrets. What we found instead was beyond our wildest dreams. Whole different worlds of the makes of different gods, ripe for the taking. Ripe for the Druchii race to expand and to rightfully take its place as the dominant race among them all."
The realization dawned on Allisara and a disturbing grin split her face. More worlds to invade could only mean a limitless conquest! She could imagine it. Unsuspecting worlds that knew only their just lives to suddenly fall under the boot of the Druchii. The might of the Druchii can become endless with access of resources of entire worlds at their fingertips. The destruction she could wage in the name of Khaine - she could practically smell the fires Cissovi would unleash for her dream of a burning world and she could hear the sweet screams of pain and misery of entire civilizations. All for oceans of blood to then spill and bathe in for Allisara's pleasure.
"We already have a world in our sights of this new conquest." Morathi continued with glee in her eyes. "Allisara, what do you say of having a whole world to yourself?"
"You mean..." Gasped Allisara as her mind sped up. "Is that why you brought my army and Black Ark here?"
"I weighed heavy consideration on this, Allisara." The cold voice of Malekith pierced through the room. "Generals older than you that have seen eons of war have come to mind, but I find only you are worthy of this task. Young you may be, but you have proven that the blood of Aenarion burns bright within you. In mere months, you've toppled an entire race and beaten foes most would have fallen to. You've brought worthy name to the Druchii race as a whole."
"Th-Thank you, Father." Allisara praised. "Is this what the alter is for? To travel between worlds?"
Morathi nodded. "The alter's purpose is to tear a hole through the Realm of Chaos to the world we've specified. It can act as a direct portal for singular transportation, but once it is installed on your Black Ark your whole army can be transported there.
"However, we are giving you a rare mercy of a choice here." Morathi said softly, laying a hand on Allisara's shoulder. "You can choose to deny this conquest and continue your campaign since it has received great success. We will not think down on you for it."
"No!" Allisara exclaimed in a near scream. "I accept! I agree to this! I will set out on this new horizon of conquest, and I shall have the whole world kneeling in the might of the Druchii, and in your name, Father! I swear it!"
"Excellent." Morathi replied with a smirk. "That is all Malekith needs to hear. Go ahead and rest for the day, Allisara. You have much ahead of you."
Allisara sprinted off like a spring, appearing only as a blur from the speed she ran. Seras' eyes widened in concern and chased after her friend to make sure she doesn't do anything reckless. In a far off corner of the palace that served as Allisara's bedchambers, the Druchii princess all but jumped on a pillow face first and was squealing in euphoria and joy.
"You are awfully quiet, my son." Morathi noted.
"It is nothing." Growled Malekith, but his tone seemed... off.
That change in tone was so unlike Malekith, and Morathi's smile quivered. She knew his son more than anyone would on this world, and she knew every part of his being. Morathi did not notice it, but until now she noticed that Malekith, and on some part herself as well, was complacent with the child they kidnapped. The one human girl somehow wormed into their everyday lives. Whereas Morathi was sure at the task at hand originally to use the child, Malekith was... off on some points.
"Does it bother you that you are potentially sending Allisara to her death?" Morathi inquired.
"... It... does not matter." Malekith answerd, but his fists tightened at his sides as his internal emotions raged within him.
Before Morathi could press on, Malekith walked away at a brisk pace. His hand was only slightly angled towards the floor. The rage that ever so projected from his eyes was dimmed. Conflicting thoughts raged in his mind, and emotions forgotten were taking root. It all stemmed to Allisara, the girl he kidnapped. The girl he raised as his own flesh and blood. The Druchii that does have his blood. The girl he could not see any less of a daughter of a proud father.
Chapter done. I got nothing else to fucking say. The ending for this was difficult to write, so I hope it is okay. This was also my first lime, and I am hoping that this does not get taken down.
Up next is Chapter 5: The Empire of Remnant
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