The Price of Power Chapter 10 - Living with Yourself (End)

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The energy it took to use her magic was nearly exhausting enough to make Milaena collapse, but now wasn’t the time to stop. A final surge of magical energy left the half-elf’s fingers, and warm light spread from her fingertips across her mostly-naked body, seeping into the bruises that peppered her thighs and breasts. She watched through half-lidded eyes as the purple-black marks faded beneath her touch, leaving behind unblemished skin that belied the violence visited upon it just the night before. The pain receded with the visible marks until it vanished entirely… the soreness in her muscles vanished, and her stretched insides scraped by Samara’s scaled knuckles were soothed back to perfect contentment. Physically, it was as though the assault had never happened.

If only the memories were so easy to remove.

Milaena let exhaustion drag her eyes shut, and she immediately regretted it. Without the distraction of sight and something to focus on, her mind started filling in the void with other things instead. The vision of the imperial soldiers standing over her. The feeling of Samara's scaled fist stretching her pussy. The sharp, tearing agony as her hand twisted inside her, scraping her raw, and the utter helplessness that had come with the sensation. The humiliation of Cassius's balls pressed against her face, the soldiers' seed drying in her hair and on her skin. The words they'd called her echoed in her head: whore, cunt, dyke. She hadn’t gotten any of them in her mouth, but she could taste their cum through her nose… could still smell their unwashed bodies, still feel their hands holding her down. It was easy to imagine that those hands holding her down belonged to a pile of bodies, the slaves that she had failed to save. They were pinning her in place, beckoning her to join them, to suffer as repentance for her sins.

It was only the discipline of two hundred years of life that kept her from flinching at the memories. She opened her eyes quickly, eager to anchor herself in the present rather than reliving that nightmare in the alley. The inn was unfamiliar… they had retreated to the first place available to seek shelter after the battle. The sky outside the windows was lit with the dying light of Luminaria in the heavens, but its soft glow would provide enough light to see by for the next hour before True Dark, and they needed to be settled and secure by then.

A soft hand landed on her shoulder and she almost screamed. "All better?" Valdis's voice came from behind her, gentle and tentative.

Milaena didn't turn immediately. Instead, she took a deep breath, composing her face into something resembling normalcy before facing her lover and letting her hand slide off of her. Valdis stood just a pace or two away, her petite form outlined by the dim light. Her fingers twisted nervously in the fabric of her robe, her eyes wide with concern.

"Yes," Milaena lied, forcing her lips into a smile that felt brittle on her face. "It doesn’t hurt anymore. I’ve healed it all." She didn't mention that every time Valdis's shadow moved, she flinched, expecting another attack on her body or dignity. She didn't say that when Valdis had touched her shoulder earlier, she'd had to fight the urge to vomit. “I’m just exhausted.”

"Do you need to rest?" Valdis asked, just a little bit too quickly. "No one would blame you if—"

"No," Milaena cut her off more sharply than she'd intended. She softened her tone immediately, pulling the spare robe more firmly closed around her to cover her nakedness beneath it more thoroughly. "No. I'm fine. I have to take care of our friends… they need healing, too." The robe's fabric brushed against her skin like unwelcome hands, and she had to force herself not to tear it off in panic… but that would leave her naked, and that also made her want to panic. Get a grip, Milaena, she told herself firmly. Her friends needed her. They were hurting, and they were still in danger… that mattered. Some stupid memories didn’t. The priestess might not be able to do anything about the memories in her head, but she could do something about protecting her surrogate family. She firmly told herself that she was going to be fine… that she had already repaired herself, and the imperials were dead or run off. There was nothing for her to be scared of, and she hadn’t been a child who was permitted to jump at shadows for nearly two hundred years.

Milaena stood, pulling the robe tightly around herself, and moved past Valdis toward where Acalia and Rashon sat nursing their wounds from the previous night's battle. Acalia looked up as Milaena approached, the tiefling woman's golden eyes meeting her as she scrubbed at her skin with a wet towel, wiping away the blood staining her blue skin. Thankfully most of it wasn’t hers, but some of it was. Blood had dried along a gash on Acalia's blue forearm, and bruises blossomed along her ribs where her torn shirt revealed them. Beside her, Rashon's massive gray form seemed diminished somehow, hunched with exhaustion and pain as he pressed a cloth to a deep wound in his shoulder.

"You look better," Acalia said, her voice carefully neutral.

"I am," Milaena answered, the lie coming easier the second time. She knelt beside them, calling forth her healing magic once more. While the effort made her vision go dark at the edges, she pushed through… she was not going to fail to protect her friends. Not again. The familiar glow spread from her fingertips to Acalia's wounds, sealing the gash and fading the bruises.

"You killed him." The words slipped out without her meaning to let them, and it wasn’t a question.

Acalia’s golden eyes flashed with anger and savage pride. "I turned him into meat. He'll never hurt anyone again."

Milaena nodded, moving her hands to Rashon's wounds. The goliath didn't stop her for once… he remained still as her magic worked its way through his many injuries, evidence of just how close the ambush in the tavern had actually been. "But others will," Acalia said softly. "The Empire knows we're here now. They'll send more. Maybe not an army, but spies… inquisitors. They’ll question people until they find everything there is to know about what happened here, that it was us who did all of this. They’ll hunt us down."

"We need to move on," Daerreth said from across the room. The fire genasi sat with Vashara, his arm protectively around her shoulders. "Get as far from Westcreek as possible."

Vashara shook her head, her silver eyes reflecting the waning moonlight. "It won't be enough. I doubt any of the soldiers know enough details to be all that useful, but they know enough to tell the Ironbound Empire’s agents to look. Once they start questioning around they’ll find our names, descriptions… everything anyone in town has seen us do.” The resurrected woman looked downcast as she stared at the floor. "Then they’ll start hunting us down. We aren’t just a minor annoyance anymore… we’re a symbol. They can’t let it go."

"Vashara is right," Rashon rumbled, his deep voice resonating in his massive chest. "Too many here have seen us. Know us as heroes. Believe in us." His lip curled around the word, but he continued anyway. "Information spreads. Imperials can’t allow a hero to inspire rebellions. They will find trails."

Milaena tried to focus on the conversation. She really did. But every word Vashara said seemed to echo in the hollow behind Milaena’s ribs, and every time the conversation threatened to drift toward strategy, her mind just… wandered. She saw herself on that alley floor, legs pinned and bloody, the taste of copper and salt and filth on her tongue, the stink of men’s sweat suffocating her in the dark. She saw Samara’s scaled fist splitting her open. She dug her nails into her palm, grounding herself in the sharpness. The pain was gone. There was nothing left of it. She should stop whining, her friends needed her. The only distraction from thinking of what had been done to her were even worse memories though… the faces of dead, innocent slaves staring through her with glassy eyes and accusing her with silence. Beyond that, she could see herself walking through the ruins of her order’s temple, eyes flitting between violated acolytes and priestesses both. She couldn’t focus. Milaena felt like she was underwater, sound and sight muffled by a pressure that wanted to crush her into nothing.

She wanted to be nothing. She wanted to disappear, to wipe herself out of existence, to take everything that had happened—her failure, her shame, her guilt, her fucking weakness—and erase it so completely that not even the gods would remember her name.

Milaena blinked hard, and her hands stilled on Rashon’s now-healed shoulder. She didn’t remember finishing healing him. Soon, maybe she wouldn’t remember a lot more than that. "What if," she began slowly, "we could make them forget us entirely?"

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to her. “What do you mean?” Acalia asked.

"What if we could remove ourselves from the memory of everyone in town?" she continued. "Make it as if we were never here at all? They revolted on their own. The garrison was a freak accident, or the act of unknown rebels. Then there would be no heroes the Empire will dedicate everything to hunting down, and no information to hunt us down with even if they wanted to."

Vashara frowned. "Is accomplishing such a thing with magic even possible?"

"Supposedly, it is," Valdis offered hesitantly, her scholarly knowledge surfacing despite her concern. "The Iron Lady Lyra Mindweaver is said to have such abilities.” The mention of one of the four Iron Overlords that ruled the Empire cast a momentary silence over the group before the sorceress continued. “I’ve seen similar things… some Aetheric mages can manage simple memory spells. But I've never seen a spell that could affect so many minds at once. I certainly can’t do one."

"Perhaps not a spell, then," Milaena said, her mind racing. The idea of erasure was beginning to consume her thoughts. To be forgotten, to disappear not just physically but from memory itself... and perhaps, if such magic existed, it could be turned inward as well. Perhaps there was a way to erase what had happened to her from her own mind, to scour away the memory of Samara's fist and Cassius's balls and the dead slaves and… all of it. "But there might be an artifact."

"Adeliah," Acalia said flatly. "You're thinking of Adeliah."

Milaena nodded. "She has to have something like that in that vault of hers. Maybe she would give it to us."

Rashon’s expression darkened. "Her magic comes with prices… and those prices tend to be steep.” He glanced at the glove on his hand.

"I don't care," Milaena replied, her voice harder than any of them had ever heard it. She touched her own skin where bruises had been just moments before. "Do you regret using that glove to save Acalia, Rashon? How about you, Daerreth? Do you regret stepping into the Netherworld?” The lack of an answer from either man was answer enough for the priestess. “Whatever the price, it's worth it if it keeps the Empire from finding us again. If it keeps us safe. If it keeps what happened to me from happening to any of you."

The room fell deadly silent again, the weight of her words settling over them all like a shroud. Milaena suspected everyone must be able to hear her racing heart hammering against their ears.

"I'll visit her tomorrow," Milaena said with finality. "See what she knows. What she has."

No one argued… but most of them had concerned looks on their faces. Milaena didn’t need their pity. She turned away from their gazes, her hand unconsciously touching the smooth skin of her inner thigh, where just minutes ago the bruises from Samara's grip had been visible. The flesh was perfect now, unmarred. It was done. It was gone.

She wouldn’t let it happen again.

---

This abandoned inn’s bed wasn’t as comfortable as the Twin Moon’s beds had been.

It was a paltry complaint, but Milaena held onto it as she lay rigid beneath the thin blanket, every muscle in her body tensed. It was easier to complain about the mattress than it was to think about the way Valdis's arms wrapped around her waist from behind, her lover's warm breath tickling the back of her neck in a steady rhythm. That should have comforted her. Instead, each exhale sent unwelcome shivers down Milaena's spine, making her skin crawl with completely illogical revulsion she couldn't control. The arms that had once been her sanctuary felt like restraints, the body pressed against her back a threat rather than a comfort. Valdis's fingers rested innocently against her stomach, but all Milaena could think of was Samara's hand raping her while soldiers laughed at her.

There was no light in the room at all. True Dark had come hours ago, and Sunwake was rapidly approaching. Milaena was starting to doubt she’d manage to get a whisper of sleep before then, no matter how tired she was.

Valdis shifted slightly, pulling Milaena closer, and it took every ounce of self-control the priestess had to not flinch away. This wasn’t an Imperial soldier. It wasn’t Cassius. That hand belonged to Valdis… her Valdis, the woman she loved. Her body however, didn’t seem to understand the difference anymore. Every touch felt like an invasion. "You're so tense," Valdis whispered, her lips brushing against Milaena's shoulder. "Are you in pain still? I thought you healed everything."

"I did," Milaena whispered back, her voice tight. She didn't want to explain that while her flesh had mended, her mind still interpreted every touch as a potential violation. How could she make Valdis understand that even these gentle caresses made her remember hands holding her down, spreading her open and leaving her vulnerable despite all of her training? "I’m just thinking about tomorrow."

Valdis's arms tightened around her fractionally. "About visiting Adeliah? I wish you wouldn't go." Her voice was soft but carried an unmistakable edge of worry. "Those artifacts she deals in... they're dangerous."

Milaena said nothing, staring at the patch of moonlight on the wall opposite the bed. She knew Valdis was right to be concerned—Adeliah's "solutions" always came with a price—but what choice did they have?

"The glove Rashon wears…" Valdis continued, her voice barely above a whisper. "It makes me nervous. What kind of magic demands such a thing? And going into the Netherworld… I’m glad we brought Vashara back, but Daerreth hasn’t been the same ever since. Haunted. Even the dreamshade extract—" She stopped abruptly, clearly regretting bringing up the poison that had killed not just imperial soldiers but innocent slaves as well. The silence stretched between them, taut and uncomfortable. Milaena just tried to keep her breathing slow and steady. "I know you want to protect us," Valdis finally said, her breath warm against Milaena's neck. "But there must be another way. Something that doesn't involve more of those artifacts. Adeliah warned us they were too dangerous to let out and should be kept locked away. I think we should take her at her word."

Milaena felt irritation flare inside her chest, hot and sudden. She pulled away from Valdis's embrace, rolling onto her back to stare at the ceiling. "What other way?" she asked, unable to keep the edge from her voice. "Should we just wait for more imperial soldiers to find us? Hope they're kind enough to kill us quickly instead of—" She cut herself off, the words sticking in her throat.

Valdis propped herself up on one elbow, her face only barely illuminated by lanterns on the street outside, the rest lost in shadow. "There are other options. We could split up for a time, make it harder to track us. Or use conventional disguises. Or—"

"None of that will work," Milaena interrupted, her frustration growing. "Our only hope is that they don’t look for us at all. If they start hunting us, they won’t stop until they find us.”

"What will the cost of this artifact be?" Valdis insisted. Her small hand reached for Milaena's, but the priestess pulled away, unable to bear the touch. Hurt flashed across Valdis's face at the rejection.

"And what's the cost of doing nothing?" Milaena demanded, sitting up abruptly. The blanket fell away from her, exposing her naked torso to the cool night air. "What happens when they find us? When they catch Acalia alone next time? Or Vashara?" Her voice rose, trembling with emotion she couldn't contain. "Or you? Is that what you want?"

The words hung between them, sharp-edged and terrible. The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Valdis's face crumpled, tears welling in her eyes. Shame washed over Milaena, dousing the hot anger that had flared so suddenly. It wasn’t fair to throw that in Valdis’s face… it hadn’t been her fault.

Valdis stared at her, eyes wide with shock at the outburst. "Milaena..."

"I’m sorry," Milaena whispered, her voice breaking. She wanted to reach out, to touch Valdis’s cheek and hold her, but she just… couldn’t. "I shouldn't have said that." She forced her voice to soften, to steady. "I can’t let that happen again. We need something that will protect us. That's all I'm asking Adeliah for—a way for us to disappear. It can’t be that bad."

Valdis caught Milaena's hand, pressing it against her tear-dampened cheek. "I understand," she said quietly. "I do. I just...”

Milaena swallowed heavily. “I… hoped you would come with me tomorrow. If you can’t, then—”

Valdis nodded slowly, though doubt still lingered in her eyes. "Alright," she said finally. "I’ll go with you, and we'll talk to her. But promise me you won't agree to anything without discussing it with all of us first."

"I promise," Milaena said, forcing a smile that felt like a crack in her face.

They settled back onto the bed, Valdis's breathing gradually slowing as she drifted into sleep. Her arm draped once more across Milaena's waist, her face nestled against the priestess's shoulder. Milaena endured the contact until she was certain Valdis was deeply asleep, then carefully slid out from beneath her lover's arm.

She moved to the edge of the bed, creating as much distance between them as the narrow mattress allowed. From there, she watched Valdis sleep, the younger woman's face peaceful in unconsciousness, unmarred by the knowledge of how turbulent the storm in the half-elf’s head truly was. A mixture of love and revulsion churned in Milaena's stomach: Love for the woman herself warring with revulsion at the thought of being touched, of being held, of feeling trapped.

Milaena had been lying earlier. In truth, it had only been a few days since the accident, and already Milaena missed being able to sleep through the night. It had only been a few hours since her rape, and she already missed not jumping at every sound and feeling constantly threatened. She was sick of feeling threatened just by being touched by the woman she loved. Milaena couldn’t imagine many costs that she wouldn’t be willing to pay to forget and go back to the way things had been, and to keep her and her friends safe.

She lay awake, staring at the ceiling, her body rigid with tension. Slowly, the sun began to crawl up into the sky, casting a sliver of light through the window that illuminated the empty space between them. When the sun was higher, Milaena would find a solution, whatever the cost. She would protect them all, even if they didn't understand what protection required. Even if they never knew what she'd sacrificed to keep them safe.

---

Adeliah was doing well for herself in the newly freed city. That was obvious even from a glance. Brightmarch had just barely begun by the time Milaena and Valdis arrived in the town square that Adeliah had set up her ornate wagon in a corner of, and already a small line of customers waited to approach the merchant, each of them clutching coins or trade goods with hopeful expressions. "Lots of people,” Valdis observed quietly at her side.

"Everyone wants something from her," Milaena replied, watching as a pair of young women approached Adeliah's window. They couldn't have been older than eighteen summers, both wearing dresses that had clearly belonged to their former mistresses. The fine fabrics were expensive but the cuts did not quite fit their thin frames and hung awkwardly on them. "Let's wait until she's finished with them."

Adeliah looked like she belonged in a painting, or at the precise center of a circle of worshippers. She was perched cross-legged on a thick velvet cushion atop the wagon’s entry steps, her posture regal and unhurried, her gaze inviting. Her eyes were green, but not any kind of green Milaena could give a name to; they were like the surface of a deep lake ruffled by wind. At the moment, they glimmered with amusement and the joy of a good bargain as she studied the two women before her. She wore her hair in a glossy black waterfall, the length of it cascading over her shoulders and down her back in a series of tight, elaborate braids that somehow managed to look casual despite how meticulously planned they had to be. Just a few lines of silver appeared in her otherwise perfectly black hair, the only testament to age in her appearance.

Milaena stood back, observing the transaction. The taller of the girls leaned close to where Adeliah sat, her voice too low to hear but her embarrassed flush visible even from a distance. Adeliah nodded with understanding, reaching beneath her counter and producing a small vial filled with amber liquid. The merchant's lips moved in what appeared to be instructions, her elegant fingers demonstrating a measurement. The shorter girl counted out copper coins, sliding them across the counter with trembling hands.

"Pregnancy remedy," Valdis murmured, her scholarly knowledge evident in her certainty.

Milaena felt bile rise in her throat. Of course there would be unwanted pregnancies now that the slaves here were free… she had seen exactly how Imperials used their belongings. Children as a byproduct of rape would have been bad enough, but she’d witnessed first-hand the way Citizens often hand-picked slaves to breed to spare their own women the indignity. How many women in this town carried the seed of their rapists even now? How many lives would begin in violence? She was suddenly grateful for her oath to Saphyria… it had protected her from that particular horror, at least.

The girls departed, clutching their purchase close, and Adeliah's sharp eyes immediately found Milaena and Valdis standing back from the line. The merchant's carefully neutral expression shifted to a knowing smile that sent unease crawling up Milaena's spine. She beckoned them forward with an elegant gesture.

"Priestess," Adeliah greeted as they approached her window. Her voice was a purr, honeyed but with a hint of laughter underneath. "And the young mage. I wondered when I might see you both again." Adeliah gestured to the marketplace around them. "The town is prospering. You've changed things here. Quite effectively, I might add." Her tone was conversational, but her eyes were shrewd, assessing. "Though I wonder what your plan is now. The Empire will probably be slow to send a legion from the core provinces this far out to reclaim such an unimportant town, but they also aren’t known for forgiveness, and you've made quite a reputation for yourselves. Just because they aren’t sending an army doesn’t mean the Iron Overlords won’t be sending their killers after you.”

Milaena nodded in agreement and didn’t bother with pleasantries… the quicker this was done, the better. "I agree. It’s why we need something that can erase memories. Make the people of Westcreek forget us completely."

Adeliah's eyebrows rose fractionally, but she showed no other sign of surprise. "That's quite a specific request," she said carefully. "And an… ambitious one. I don’t think I have an herb capable of something like that in my collection."

"I’m not looking for an herb or a tonic,” Milaena pressed, her patience already wearing thin. Every moment they spent exposed in this town was another moment the Empire might find them. “I’m looking for something from your… special collection. Can you help us or not?"

Adeliah's expression became guarded. "I told you already… that isn’t what the collection is for. Some magics are too dangerous to release into the world," she said, her voice lowering.

“No, you told me that you had to pick and choose when they could do more good than harm,” Milaena insisted. “This is one of those times.”

"I’m not so certain of that. Memory manipulation is particularly insidious. Even for the best of intentions, you are asking for the power to invade people’s minds and alter who they are, even if in a small way." She folded her hands on the counter before her. "I’m not so certain there exists a time and place where that artifact can do more harm than good.”

Milaena’s heart raced. The way Adeliah had spoken… "So you do have such an artifact then?” she pressed.

“Please," Valdis interjected, stepping forward despite her reservations about Adeliah's magic. "We wouldn't ask if there were other options. The Empire is hunting us specifically now. Lots of people could get hurt as they try to get to us. The safest thing for them and for us is for them to remember nothing.”

Adeliah's eyes softened slightly at Valdis's plea, but she shook her head. "I understand your predicament, but—"

"Do you?" Milaena interrupted, her voice sharp enough to make both women turn to her in surprise. "Do you understand what happens when the Empire is going to do when it finds us? When their soldiers hold us down and turn us into pleasure slaves for some slovenly citizen?" Her voice rose with each word, drawing curious glances from nearby shoppers. "Do you know what it feels like to have a yuan-ti's fist shoved inside you while men jerk off onto your face? Do you know what it’s like when you can’t sleep, when you see the dead everywhere you look?"

Valdis reached for her arm, whispering, "Milaena, please—"

Milaena shook her off, her composure crumbling entirely. "And it's your fault!" she spat at Adeliah, leaning closer to the merchant and pointing with her finger. "You gave us that dreamshade. It was supposed to make them sleep, not kill them! Forty-seven innocents died choking on poison that you provided!" She was being unfair and she knew it… It hadn’t been Adeliah’s plan, and she hadn’t been the one to pick the dosage. That didn’t matter right now though, and the words kept spilling from her lips like vomit from a drunk. “This is on your hands too! You need to help us fix this! You have to take responsibility for what you did and help make it right! The Empire knows we're here, and they’ll find us and slaughter everyone in their way. Is that what you want? More blood on your hands when they catch us because you wouldn't help?"

Adeliah flinched visibly, guilt flashing across her features before she could mask it. The merchant's gaze dropped to her counter, her fingers tightening around each other. She looked genuinely troubled, and Milaena seized the advantage, shifting swiftly from accusation to pleading. "Please," she said, her voice breaking. "I can't let them take us. I can't watch them hurt my friends.” Milaena felt a flash of guilt for manipulating the woman like this… the tears welling in her eyes weren’t fake, but she was choosing to let them flow. Still, the time for shame was later. Not now. "Please… Help us disappear. Help us save ourselves after we saved this town. Isn't that worth bending your rules once?"

Adeliah's shoulders sagged slightly. She glanced around the marketplace, at the freed slaves going about their new lives, then back to Milaena's tear-streaked face. Something in her expression shifted, a decision made. "Fine. Come inside," she said finally, gesturing toward the curtained door of her wagon. "Just you. Only you."

Valdis's face clouded with concern. "I should come with her," she protested.

"No," Adeliah said firmly. "I’m breaking my rules far enough."

Milaena touched Valdis's arm briefly… the first voluntary contact she'd initiated since her assault. "It's alright," she assured her lover, though her heart hammered with uncertainty. "I'll be fine."

Adeliah held the colorful curtain aside, revealing the dimly lit interior of her wagon. "After you," she said, her voice carrying a weight that suggested she already regretted what she was about to do.

Milaena stepped through the curtain, feeling it fall closed behind her like a final judgment. In the sudden dimness, surrounded by Adeliah's mysterious trinkets and potions, she felt a momentary doubt about what she was doing. Then the memory of Samara's fist inside her, of soldiers using her face while she struggled to breathe, hardened her resolve like steel in a quenching bath.

Whatever Adeliah offered, she would take it. Whatever the price, she would pay.

Milaena followed the merchant into the cramped wagon, and watched again as she opened the wall into the secret vault that should not be there, the tear in reality far larger than the wagon was. Adelia immediately began searching through several shelves that reached up into the shadows where the glow of the lights didn’t quite reach, crammed full of strange tomes, bottles, and locked boxes.

"What I'm about to show you," Adeliah said without looking up from her search, "has been locked away for good reason. Memory is not something to be tampered with lightly." Her elegant fingers traced the lock of an intricately carved wooden box before moving on to another container. "The mind is fragile. Break it, and the pieces never quite fit back together again."

Milaena remained silent, watching as the merchant continued her methodical search. A small part of her registered the warning in Adeliah's words, but it was drowned out by the desperate need to protect her friends… and herself… from what they had done.

"Ah," Adeliah exhaled softly, her fingers stilling over a small velvet pouch tucked behind a row of glowing bottles. "Here it is." She withdrew it carefully, as one might handle a venomous snake, and turned to face Milaena fully. The colored lantern light reflected in her eyes, giving them an otherworldly quality as she slowly untied the pouch's drawstring. "This," she said, tipping the contents into her palm, "was created about three centuries ago, under grim circumstances indeed."

A necklace slid into her hand, its chain fine and delicate, but it was the pendant that immediately drew Milaena's attention. A ruby the size of a thumbnail hung from the chain, its surface catching the lantern light. The gem was a perfect oval, polished to mirror brightness, and set in a frame of some black metal that Milaena didn’t recognize. “You know of the Iron Lady Lyra Mindweaver, I assume?”

The name conjured a physical reaction—Milaena’s skin prickled, as if the air itself had grown colder in the candlelit vault. Of the four overlords that ruled the Ironbound Empire, Lyra Mindweaver was the least seen, and perhaps the most terrifying. Unlike the others, the elf sorceress never left the capital, but her reach extended far beyond its walls. She ruled the kingdom's spies and inquisitors, seeking enemies of the Empire with her mental sorcery. More than one rebellion against the Empire died in its crib when one conspirator whispered the wrong words to the wrong person… and Lyra's scrying was there to watch.

“I know of her,” Milaena said coldly. The Iron Empire had learned the location of the Order of the Sacred Shield somehow. Milaena didn’t know, but she had her suspicions… Lyra was the one responsible for the death of every priestess in her temple save for her. “The mindrake. The elf who betrayed her forest and her people to the Empire.” All of the Iron Overlords had dark stories around them, but Lyra’s were some of the least comfirmed… but potentially the most terrifying. One legend said that she had woven a spell into the very bones of Ferronatus, that everyone who passed through its iron gates left a little less of themselves behind. They whispered that she could rewrite a man’s life with a glance, make him forget his own children or believe he’d always despised his lover, or his parents, or himself. Milaena half-believed all of them. She hated each of this cruel Empire’s rulers… but Lyra might be the one Milaena feared the most. Milaena almost didn’t want to touch the artifact, but she had already committed to this course, and she forced herself to lean in closer, staring at the ruby. “That’s hers?”

Adeliah shrugged, her face carefully blank. “Not quite. Before she took over a piece of the Ironbound Empire, her family was one of the ruling families in the old coalition… House Shadmoore. They used to be known for their gifts with mind sorcery… before the Iron Lady wiped them out to preserve her secrets anyway. This is an artifact from that era… one made by some of the greatest mind mages in history.”

“How does it work?” Milaena asked."

"The heir to house Shadmoore was married… before he found that his wife was having a tryst with another woman,” Adeliah continued, holding the necklace where Milaena could see it clearly. "When they were discovered, he had the greatest mages in his house create this artifact to hide his shame. It was designed to fog the memories of anyone nearby, to make them forget what he wanted them to. He merely had to be in proximity to them and think of the details he wanted them to forget, and they would. He waited until his wife left the city for a time, then used it to make sure the whole city had forgotten what they had learned… and the lover forgot she had ever fallen for his wife.” Adeliah snorted. “Of course, the wife didn’t know that. When she got back to the forest, she tried to crawl into her lover’s bed and got stabbed by a panicking woman who didn’t know her, so the lord lost his wife anyway. Funny that.”

Milaena's eyes remained fixed on the ruby, which seemed to grow warmer and more alive the longer she looked at it. "It’s that strong? It can make people utterly forget anything… even anything that important?”

"Yes," Adeliah confirmed. "It’s not quick to work… it takes some time, but its powers are widespread. If you walk throughout the town wearing this, it will affect everyone you get close to. If you just walk down every street thinking about how you were never here and there were no heroes that saved the town, by the end of the day it will be so. Their memories of you will fade, becoming like dreams half-remembered. Within an hour, they’ll question if you were ever real at all. By morning, you'll be entirely forgotten."

Milaena's heart quickened. "And it works on any memory? Any at all?"

Adeliah's gaze sharpened, seeing too much. "You're thinking of your own memories," she observed quietly. "Wondering if you could erase what you did. What happened to you. Aren’t you?”

Milaena didn't bother denying it. "Could I?"

"Afraid not," Adeliah said, her tone carefully neutral. "The Shadmoore lord was paranoid. He didn’t want it to ever be used on him, so a part of the spell is that no one who knows how the amulet works can be affected by it. He wouldn’t fall victim to his own artifact." She met Milaena's eyes directly. "For the same reason, you are immune to its effects. I'm sorry, but you cannot use it to erase your own memories."

The brief hope that had flared in Milaena's chest guttered and died. Of course it wouldn't be that simple. Nothing ever was. She swallowed her disappointment, focusing instead on the primary goal. "But it will work on the townspeople? Make them forget us so the Empire can't track us?"

"Yes," Adeliah confirmed. "For that purpose, it will serve perfectly."

Milaena reached for the necklace, but Adeliah didn't immediately release it. "There's more you need to know," the merchant said, her voice dropping lower. "About how to activate it."

"Tell me," Milaena demanded, her patience wearing thin. Whatever the cost, she was prepared to pay it. What more could the world take from her now?

Adeliah sighed deeply. "Well… the lord was angry, you see. He felt betrayed by his wife and her tryst, and wanted to punish both her and her lover." She turned the ruby in her fingers, the gem catching the light in bloody flashes. "It requires a reagent to activate. ‘Physical Proof of Selfless Love’, the creators put it.”

"What does that mean?" Milaena asked, feeling the beginning of a sinking feeling beginning in her stomach.

"It means," Adeliah said carefully, "that it needs physical proof that love transcends trivial little things like physicality, desire, or sexual orientation. Proof of willingness to sacrifice."

The vague explanation only deepened Milaena's unease. "Speak plainly," she demanded. "What sacrifice?"

Adeliah met her gaze directly. "The lord decided that his wife’s preference for a woman was a choice made from selfishness. The power to undo it, he decided, was evidence that such a woman could choose differently if required. So to activate it, it requires a woman who loves women to lay with a man.”

Milaena's blood turned to ice in her veins. "You're saying it needs..." She swallowed, processing that thought. “Physical proof. You’re saying… it needs semen. It needs a man’s semen.”

"Taken from the sex of a lesbian woman,” she confirmed. “A few drops smeared on the ruby will suffice."

Milaena stared at the merchant in stunned disbelief. "But… but that’s not… You're saying it requires a lesbian's rape?" The words emerged as a horrified whisper.

"No," Adeliah answered quickly, "nothing so barbaric. The act needn't be forced… although the creators of this relic would have been fine with that. It requires only that a woman who loves women sacrifice her preference for the good of activating the magic. You could do it yourself.” She pushed the necklace firmly into Milaena’s hands. "If hiding yourself and your friends is so important to you, surely you can make such a sacrifice yourself… yes?”

---

Milaena left Adeliah's wagon in a daze, her thoughts inward as she stepped out into the bright midday sun. She felt cold despite the warmth of the day, and her skin was pale. Her fingers repeatedly touched her robes where the ruby necklace lay hidden, its weight against her chest like a stone. She barely registered Valdis falling into step beside her, the young mage's concerned questions passing through her consciousness without leaving an impression. All Milaena could think about was the situation she now faced: how to activate an artifact that required a lesbian to be mounted by a man. Adeliah said that she should be willing to make the sacrifice herself. There was logic to that, and fair was fair. She would have done it, too… if only she could. Too bad it wasn’t possible: The oath she had made to Sapphyria ruled that out as an option. Her mind raced through options, each more unacceptable than the last. The last time they had needed to do something like this, they had paid a merchant for his daughter’s virgin blood, but Milaena had a hard time imagining they would find a woman willing to volunteer herself for this… and even if they could, every day they delayed in leaving increased the risk of an Imperial Inquisitor arriving. They had no time to find and persuade such a person.

"...and I was thinking we could tell the others tonight, once we know what options we have," Valdis was saying, her voice finally penetrating Milaena's distracted state. The small mage moved with quick steps to keep pace with Milaena's longer strides, her expression bright with forced optimism. "Since she didn’t have a way to cover up the memories, we’ll just have to leave and run as quickly as we can and hope distance does the job. Acalia will want to leave immediately, of course, but Rashon might argue for waiting until we have a clear destination. What do you think? Milaena? Are you listening?"

The streets of Westcreek bustled around them, freed slaves and citizens alike rebuilding what the brief battle at the tavern had damaged. The sounds of hammers and saws filled the air, punctuated by shouted instructions and occasional laughter. These people had no idea that imperial forces would return, that though their newfound freedom might last for now they were still in terrible danger from the Inquisition’s torture. They were innocent, ignorant, and Milaena had the means to protect them and her adopted family both… if only she could solve this one terrible problem.

Even if they could persuade a lesbian to do as they asked in exchange for money, or even for gratitude… Milaena wasn’t even sure if semen they bought and paid for would work. The man’s seed was supposed to be there as physical evidence of love, a sacrifice that a lesbian was willing to make for the people she loved. Surely doing it for pay wouldn’t count. It had to require some kind of genuine sacrifice. The Empire could arrive any day. Every moment they remained in Westcreek increased the chance of discovery. She needed to do something now.

"Milaena?" Valdis reached for her arm, her small fingers brushing against the priestess's sleeve. The touch, even through fabric, sent an involuntary shudder through Milaena. She stopped abruptly in the middle of the street, causing a man carrying a load of lumber to veer around them with an irritated grunt. "Are you well? You haven't said a word since we left Adeliah's…"

Milaena stared at Valdis, the pit in her stomach sinking even further. "I… I’m…” she swallowed. "Do you trust me, Valdis?"

Valdis blinked, clearly taken aback by the sudden question that had to seem completely unrelated. "Of course I do," she answered without hesitation. "You know that."

Milaena took a deep breath, her hand unconsciously moving to the hidden necklace once more. There was only one viable solution, and it sickened her even as she recognized its necessity. "I… need you to do something for me. Need you to do it because you love me."

A genuine, warm smile spread across her lover’s adorable face. It dimpled her cute cheeks and made her freckles most. “Of course!” Valdis assured her. “I’d do anything for you. You know that. What can I—"

“I need you to have sex with a man. For me."

Milaena spat out the words as quickly as she could, before she could second guess herself, before she could stop herself. The words hung between them, sharp-edged and impossible in the bright afternoon air. Valdis stared at her, hazel eyes widening with shock, her lips parting but no sound emerging. For a moment she seemed to be waiting for the punchline of a particularly unfunny joke. When none came, she shook her head slightly, as if to clear it.

"You... what?" she finally managed, her voice barely above a whisper. "You can't be serious."

"I… I am," Milaena confirmed, her voice steady despite the sickness churning in her gut. "I need you to do this for me. Tonight."

Valdis took a step back, her face cycling through confusion, shock, and the beginnings of anger. "But… Milaena!” she protested, her voice starting to get louder. “How… how can you ask me to do that!? I don’t want a man… I never have!”

“You said you’d do anything for me. Was that a lie?” Milaena pressed.

Valdis flinched back as if the half-elf had slapped her. “I never thought you were going to ask something like that! I never thought you would ever ask me something like that!” The red-haired sorceress looked genuinely hard, even as her eyes grew angrier. “Why?! I’d never ask you for anything like that!”

“It’s so we can escape,” Milaena told her. “We can erase people’s memories. I just need t—”

Understanding dawned in Valdis's eyes, her gaze narrowing. "This is about Adeliah’s dark relics after all then," she said, her voice hardening. "I told you. I told you. I knew we should never have gone to her. I knew nothing good would come of it!" Her voice rose with each word, drawing curious glances from passersby.

"Listen to me," she said urgently, reaching out for Valdis’s arm. “I wouldn't ask this if it wasn't absolutely necessary. It's the only way to protect us all."

"By me having to let a man fuck me?" Valdis's voice cracked with hurt and confusion. "Any magic that requires such a thing is magic not worth having. Can’t you see that?"

Milaena wanted to scream. It wasn’t that bad! After all, it was nothing compared to what Vashara and Acalia had been through. Nothing compared to what Daerreth had needed to do, or to the punishment Rashon had been willing to suffer on his body. It definitely was nothing compared to what Milaena had been unable to stop happening to her just last night. "I'll be there with you," she offered desperately. "I'll be with you the whole time. I'll kiss you, lick you while it happens. You can close your eyes, pretend it's just us, and—"

Valdis recoiled from her as if struck, her face flushing dark with anger. "Are you listening to yourself? You want me to close my eyes and pretend while some man shoves his cock inside me?" Her eyes filled with tears of rage and betrayal. "I’m… the Milaena I know would never suggest something so repugnant!"

"Valdis, please—"

"No!" Valdis cut her off with a slashing motion of her hand. "This isn't you talking! This is... this is what they did to you." The anger in her face softened slightly with realization. "You're not thinking clearly. You would never, ever ask me to do this."

"I'm thinking perfectly clearly!" Milaena insisted, even as a small voice in the back of her mind wondered if Valdis might be right. She screamed that voice down. This was survival. It just wasn’t that terrible.

"I hope not!" Valdis cursed. "Because if you are, then you are asking me to whore myself out and violate myself for some dark sorcery! I wouldn’t be able to live with that memory, no matter what we did!" She shook her head, tears now spilling freely down her cheeks. "No. This is wrong, Milaena. And if you can't see that, then whatever those imperial bastards did to you has twisted you more than I realized."

Before Milaena could respond, Valdis turned and stormed away, shouldering roughly past a man who had paused to listen to their argument. Her small form quickly disappeared into the crowd of townspeople going about their business, leaving Milaena standing alone in the center of the street.

Milaena's hand closed around the ruby necklace through her robes, feeling its warm pulse against her palm… it felt almost like the relic was laughing at her. Why couldn’t Valdis understand? Without this magic, they would all be hunted down. Without this sacrifice, they would all face what she had endured in that alley, or worse. And there was nothing Milaena could do about it anymore… because Valdis couldn’t live with that.

Live with that…

---

Milaena twisted the ruby necklace between her fingers, watching it catch the dim light of the abandoned inn’s common room. The pendant felt heavier with each passing hour, its weight a constant reminder of what needed to be done and her failure thus far to accomplish it.

After her fight with her lover, the rest of the day had passed in a too-brief blur. Sanguis was high in the sky, and the town’s celebrations continued unabated outside without even waiting for False Dawn for the better light… but no one was here in this abandoned place. Milaena wasn’t sure where its owners had gone. Probably they had been Citizens or Freemen who fled or were killed during the slave revolt. The tavern down here had been emptied of all of the expensive wines and liquors, but there was still plenty of cheap swill left behind, and Milaena had been quick to pour herself a cup and sit in the darkness where she could contemplate her terrible options without interruption. After Milaena had been forced to tell Acalia and the others that she had failed, they had resolved to leave town tomorrow and do their best to stay ahead of pursuit… it was the best they could do, as far as any of the others were concerned. Only Milaena knew better.

Valdis's reaction kept playing through her mind—the shock, the hurt, the accusation that the assault had twisted Milaena into something unrecognizable. Perhaps Valdis was right. Perhaps the old Milaena would never have considered such a monstrous request.

But the old Milaena hadn't felt herself being invaded by a rapist while soldiers laughed, either.

Anger built in her chest, hot and unexpected. Why was Valdis being like this? What right did she have to refuse such a small sacrifice when the alternative was so much worse? It would be one man, one time, with Milaena there to comfort her throughout. Was that so terrible compared to what waited if the Empire found them again? All of them had sacrificed so much. She thought of Acalia, who had endured repeated violation during her time as a slave and again at the hands of Commander Cassius. She thought of Vashara, who had suffered the same and then literally been killed for it, and only a miraculous resurrection had brought her back. And what Milaena had suffered…

All of them had sacrificed. All of them had suffered the consequences of their defiance against the empire. Everyone but Valdis… and it was she, who had been spared the worst of the Empire’s cruelties, who couldn't bring herself to endure even a moment's discomfort to save them all? It seemed unfair… but wasn’t that a kind of unfairness that Milaena wanted for the world? She was a priestess of Sapphyria… her role was to stand between the cruelties of the world and those who hadn’t experienced them.

Valdis wouldn’t be able to live with herself.

Maybe she didn’t have to.

Milaena swirled her cup, staring into it… and she took a long, deep breath. What, exactly, had she told Valdis again? She had said that she needed her to do it, for her. She had said that it would let them erase the town’s memories and save them all. Had she mentioned the amulet at all? She didn’t think so…

Her gaze drifted to the staircase leading to the rooms above. Among their group, there was only one person that Milaena could trust with something like that, who would understand. Who had already demonstrated his willingness to cross his moral boundries to protect the people he loved. Valdis had refused, which eliminated the most obvious solution to their problem…

Milaena tucked the necklace back into her robes and made her way upstairs. The wooden steps creaked beneath her weight, each sound unnaturally loud in the quiet inn. She paused outside of a door, her hand raised to knock, and paused as doubt assailed her. Was she really considering this?

What was the alternative? Wait for the Empire to put Valdis in chains and let worse happen? Milaena couldn’t allow that.

She knocked lightly, three quick taps against the wooden door. A moment passed, then another, before the door opened to reveal Daerreth, bare-chested and imposing in the threshold. His obsidian skin gleamed dully in the hallway's dim light, stretched taut over the lean muscle of his shoulders and the defined planes of his chest. A thin scar traced a pale line from his collarbone to just above his navel. His flame-red hair was muted with only a few smoldering embers burning in its depths, suggesting he'd been resting. "Milaena?" he asked, surprise evident in his voice as he leaned one muscled forearm against the doorframe. "Is something wrong?"

"Is Vashara here?" Milaena asked, peering past him into the darkened room.

"She's asleep," he replied, glancing over his shoulder at a shape beneath the blankets. "Has been for an hour or so. Do you need—"

Milaena nodded, a spark of relief flickering in her chest. "That's fine. Actually, it's you I wanted to speak with. Can you come downstairs? I don’t want to drink alone… and I need someone to talk to."

Daerreth's eyebrows rose slightly, but he nodded after a brief hesitation. "Give me a moment." He closed the door softly. He reappeared a few moments later, having thrown on a shirt that did little to conceal the lean musculature beneath. "Lead the way, priestess."

They made their way back to the common room in silence… Milaena passed her own room’s shut door without a second glance before heading down the stairs and grabbing a cup as they passed the abandoned bar. Daerreth claimed a chair across from her at the corner table she had occupied earlier as Milaena poured some of the cheap wine into his cup.

"So," Daerreth said after taking a long pull from his tankard, "what's on your mind? Must be important for a late-night summons. We’re going to leave pretty early tomorrow."

Milaena studied him carefully, noting the constant subtle flicker of heat that emanated from his obsidian skin, the lean muscles visible beneath his thin shirt, the sharp angles of his face softened somewhat by the dim candlelight. She had never really considered Daerreth in physical terms before. Why would she? She had no interest in men, and her oath prevented her from having one even if she did. Besides, he was Vashara's lover, and Milaena had eyes only for Valdis. She had to admit that he was handsome, though… all sharp edges and barely contained elemental power. His body was lean but muscular, forged by years of fighting and running. The flames that replaced normal hair added to his exotic appearance, dancing subtly with each movement. In another life, if Milaena hadn't been devoted to Saphyria and to Valdis, she might have found him attractive.

It could be a lot worse.

"I visited Adeliah today," she began, watching his reaction carefully. "She gave me something that can help us disappear. Make the townspeople forget we were ever here."

Daerreth's eyes sharpened with interest. "That’s not what you said earlier,” he said slowly, looking at her. The fire genasi's expression shifted to wariness. He had dealt with Adeliah before, knew that her gifts always came with a price. “…It’s because of the cost to use it, isn’t it?”

“Something like that,” Milaena agreed.

Milaena's fingers closed around the ruby necklace in her pocket, feeling its warmth against her palm. The pendant seemed to pulse with eagerness, as if sensing its time was approaching. The fire genasi had murdered Governor Harrick in cold blood. He had journeyed to the Netherworld itself to bring Vashara back from death. He understood sacrifice. He understood that sometimes terrible actions were necessary for the greater good. "That's what I need to discuss with you," she said, leaning forward across the table. The candle between them cast her face in sharp relief, highlighting the determination in her eyes. "I need your help with something..."

Daerreth listened in silence as Milaena explained her visit to Adeliah and the necklace she was given, drinking slowly. By the time she finished describing the artifact's need for "proof of selfless love," his tankard sat forgotten on the table, his fingers drumming an anxious rhythm against the worn wood.

"So what's your plan?" Daerreth asked finally, his expression guarded. "I don’t understand how I can help you. The necklace needs a woman who loves women to lie with a man. Normally, if a woman came to me with a story like this, I would think she was propositioning me, and I know that isn’t you… and your oath prevents it, anyway." His eyes narrowed slightly as he worked through the implications. "So why are y—"

"I need you to have sex with Valdis for me," Milaena stated directly, watching his reaction with careful attention.

Daerreth's eyes only widened a little, but the flames in his hair briefly flared bright enough to cast dancing shadows across the common room. Several emotions crossed his face in rapid succession—shock, confusion, concern. In the middle of that however, there had been a flash of interest… and that was what Milaena was looking for. "You can't be serious," he said.

"I’m completely serious," Milaena affirmed. She leaned forward across the table, lowering her voice further. "Don't pretend you haven't thought about it. I've seen how you look at us when you think we don't notice. The way you flirt with me. I know you’ve thought about it… what being with a lesbian would be like."

Daerreth's jaw tightened, but he didn't deny it outright. "Even if that were true," he said carefully, "I'm with Vashara. I love her. I went to the Netherworld to bring her back."

"And she never needs to know about this," Milaena countered smoothly. "It will be our secret. A one-time necessity for all our safety… to keep her safe." She took a sip of her wine for the first time, her throat suddenly dry from the magnitude of what she was proposing.

The fire genasi's flames dimmed further, nearly guttering out as he considered her words. “I would know, though. I'm not sure I could forgive myself. After everything we've been through..."

"It's just sex, Daerreth. Not love,” Milaena insisted. “Just think of it as jacking off to protect all our lives, including hers.”

Daerreth's brow furrowed. "Wait, has Valdis agreed to this plan?"

Milaena hesitated just long enough for Daerreth to read the truth in her eyes.

"She hasn't," he realized aloud, his voice hardening. "She would never agree to this."

"No," Milaena admitted. She watched Daerreth's expression shift toward refusal and pressed forward quickly. "But look… it doesn’t matter, alright? I never told her about the amulet. The moment we’re finished, I’ll erase her memories. I’ll heal her so it’s like it never happened. I’ll even make sure it doesn’t hurt. It’s not real, alright? As far as she’s concerned, it never happened.”

"So you want me to..." Daerreth couldn't finish the sentence, the implications too monstrous to voice directly. “To do… to her…”

"She'll be fine," Milaena assured him, as if she were discussing something far more mundane than a planned violation. "I'll be there with you."

Daerreth's face contorted with conflicting emotions. "You're still talking about… raping her," he said finally, his voice barely audible. "Erasing her memory afterward doesn't change that."

"I'm talking about survival," Milaena corrected sharply. "I'm talking about protecting all of us from what happened to me in that alley. About making sure Vashara doesn't end up back in imperial hands, tortured and killed again." She leaned forward, her eyes locking with his. "You know what they'll do to her if they catch her. To all of us."

The fire genasi's shoulders slumped slightly, the weight of her words pressing down on him. "There has to be another way," he said.

"There is," Milaena said firmly. "She could volunteer, like I asked her to… but she doesn't understand what's at stake. She doesn't know what will happen to us all if the Empire starts chasing after us. This is our only chance to disappear completely, to be truly safe from the Empire's hunters."

Daerreth stared into his ale, conflict evident in every line of his body. The flames of his hair had dimmed to barely visible embers, casting his face in shadow. "I can't do this," he said, but the words sounded hollow, as if he were trying to convince himself.

Milaena had waited to play her final card until she knew it would drive the knife deep… this was the time. "When you went to bring Vashara back from the dead," she said quietly, "you knew you were going to have to step over the line. Don’t lie to me and pretend you didn’t. Governor Harrick was a monster, but even if he hadn't been you still would have murdered him. You did all that because you loved her, because you couldn't bear to live without her." She reached across the table, placing her hand over his. "As a priestess of the Order of the Sacred Shield, I shouldn’t have let you kill a man in cold blood, Daerreth. I should have stopped you. But instead I was right there with you. Helping you. Because I understood that even if it was the wrong thing it was for the right reasons. So I stood by you." Her fingers tightened around his. "And now I need your help to save us all. Are you really going to refuse me?"

The reminder of his own moral compromises struck home. Daerreth's face fell, shadows deepening beneath his eyes as he fell full-bodied into the trap Milaena had laid—a trap built from his own past actions. How could he claim moral high ground when he had already crossed so many lines for love already? Milaena didn’t know what he had done in the Netherworld, but it was clear it haunted him… she doubted that Harrick was the only compromise he had made.

"She'll hate us both if she ever remembers," he said softly, a last token resistance.

"She never will," Milaena promised. She finished her drink in a single swallow.

---

Milaena quietly entered the bedroom she shared with Valdis, her steps deliberately silent on the wooden floor. The door closed behind her with barely a whisper, sealing them in privacy barely lit by the crimson shine of the moon. Valdis lay curled beneath the thin blankets, her slender form rising and falling with the steady rhythm of deep sleep. Her red-brown hair spilled across the pillow in a tangled fan, her face peaceful in her sleep. Moonlight spilled through the thin curtains, painting scarlet stripes across the bed that highlighted the vulnerable curve of Valdis's neck and the delicate angle of her shoulder where her nightshift had slipped down. Milaena paused at the bedside and watched her lover sleep.

The ruby necklace seemed heavy against her chest, warm and eager beneath her robes. Milaena touched it briefly to reassure her doubts, then she let the robe slip off her shoulders and pool at her feet. She almost looked back at the wall by the door before she stopped herself… she knew that Daerreth was looking, that he was getting the show he had always fantasized about, but she didn’t want to think about it. She stood naked in the blood-red moonlight, her divine body a stark masterpiece against the darkness. The crimson glow caressed every inch of her flawless skin, highlighting the soft swell of her full breasts and nipples that were hard in the night air.. Her healing magic had erased all of her bruises and scrapes, leaving her flesh unmarked. The moonlight traced the elegant curve of her spine, illuminating the taut globes of her ass and the tantalizing cleft between her thighs.

Milaena slid into bed beside Valdis, the mattress yielding beneath the weight of her luscious body. Her lover remained motionless, the exhaustion of the day leaving her still and resting. Milaena's strong fingers found their way to Valdis's body, tracing each delicate curve before she found one of the woman’s breasts through the thin nightshift, feeling the warmth of that soft mound filling her palm. Her thumb circled the nipple with deliberate pressure, feeling it stiffen and push against the fabric like a desperate plea for more attention.

Valdis stirred, murmuring something incomprehensible as she shifted beneath Milaena's hand. Encouraged, Milaena grew bolder, her touch more insistent as she slid her palm along Valdis's ribs, down to the gentle curve of her hip, then back up to cup her breast fully. She leaned close, pressing her lips against the sensitive spot behind Valdis's ear, knowing from years together that this particular touch never failed to rouse her body into action. "Mmm," Valdis mumbled, consciousness returning sluggishly as she recognized the familiar touch. Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused and heavy with sleep. "Milaena?"

"I'm here," Milaena whispered, her lips brushing against Valdis's ear. She licked along the top of the cartilage, so round and different from her own.

Valdis shifted away slightly, memory of their argument returning as she woke more fully. "Hey," she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep. "Stop it. I'm still angry with you."

Milaena ignored the protest, continuing her sensual assault on Valdis's body. Her hands moved with deliberate skill, stroking and teasing the places she knew would awaken desire despite Valdis's reluctance. "I know. Let me make it up to you," she breathed, sliding a thigh between Valdis's legs, pressing upward against her center.

"We… we need to t-talk first," Valdis insisted, though the way she stuttered and how her body was already beginning to respond to Milaena's practiced touch said otherwise. Her nipples had hardened to stiff peaks, visible through the thin fabric of her nightshift, and a flush had begun to spread across her chest. "What you asked today—"

"Shhh," Milaena silenced her with a kiss, deep and hungry, stealing her words along with her breath. Her hand slipped beneath Valdis's nightshift, fingertips grazing the soft skin of her inner thigh, climbing higher with determined purpose. "No talking. Just feel."

Despite her anger, despite her attempt at resistance, Valdis's body betrayed her. A soft moan escaped her lips as Milaena's fingers found the warmth between her thighs, stroking with practiced expertise. Years together had taught Milaena exactly how to touch her lover, how to coax a response even when Valdis's mind might resist. Her fingers circled and teased, finding the small bud of her clit and working it gently until Valdis's hips began to move against her hand of their own accord. "That's it," Milaena encouraged, her voice a velvet purr against Valdis's ear. "Just let go."

In the hazy realm between arousal and lingering sleep, Valdis's defenses had lowered. She might still be angry, but she was used to her body yielding to the confident half-elf’s commands, and that body was now singing with need that overrode her rational mind. Milaena took full advantage, intensifying her attentions until Valdis was panting softly, her objections forgotten in the wake of the lust her fingers inspired.

Milaena's free hand moved to the bedside table, fingers closing around the cord from her discarded robe. With the smooth confidence of having done this many times, Milaena took Valdis's wrists in a firm grip and drew them behind her back. Before Valdis processed what that would mean, Milaena had looped the cord around her wrists, holding them together. The restraint jolted Valdis from the cloud of lust for a moment. H-Hey!” Valdis protested in a whisper, confusion evident in her voice. "What are you doing?"

"Making it up to you," Milaena replied, pressing a kiss to the corner of Valdis's mouth. "I promise. I’m going to make you forget how angry you are.”

Uncertainty flickered across Valdis's face, but the arousal that flushed her face won out. Her breathing was already quick and shallow, and it only became more so as Milaena’s fingers resumed their dance. Then, with Valdis's hands secured, Milaena shifted position, moving up the bed until she straddled her lover's face. Milaena's hands pulled open her lover's nightgown, letting Valdis's large breasts flop out into the scarlet light. Her eyes devoured Valdis's body—so different from her own. Where Milaena was toned from years of service to Saphyria, Valdis was soft, her stomach gently curved, her hips flaring out in a luscious arc that begged to be gripped. Her thighs were plump and inviting, quivering slightly as Milaena's hands traveled down them. The mage's skin was impossibly smooth, like alabaster warmed by sunlight, unmarred by any scar or blemish.

Milaena paused to appreciate her lover’s breasts, squeezing them in her hands and sliding her nails over every sensitive spot. Valdis's tits were simply magnificent, and the heavy, pale mounds barely fit into Milaena’s hands. They overflowed from her palms, the hard nipples pressing against her skin while the soft and yielding flesh of her melons felt like the finest of silk pillows.

"Mine," Milaena whispered, possessiveness surging through her veins as she rolled Valdis's nipples between her fingers, drawing a whimper from her lover's lips. “No matter what. You are mine.” Milaena growled low in her throat as she spread Valdis's legs, revealing the slick, pink cunt that belonged to her alone to her eyes instead of just her fingers. The sight of those wet folds, already glistening with arousal, made Milaena's mouth water with hunger. She owned this body—every curve, every sensitive spot, every shuddering gasp. And in the blood-tinged light, she would claim it again.

Then, just as her lover gasped, she sat down and pressed her thighs against Valdis's cheeks, effectively blinding her to the room beyond. Milaena lowered herself until her pussy was positioned directly over Valdis's mouth. It was a familiar position they had shared countless times before… nothing out of the ordinary. "Taste me," she commanded softly, grinding down slightly to encourage compliance.

Valdis hesitated only briefly before her tongue emerged to trace along Milaena's slit, the sensation sending a reluctant spark of pleasure through the priestess… no matter the circumstances. Milaena allowed herself a moment to enjoy the feeling, even as her eyes sought out the shadowed corner of the room where Daerreth waited, his presence betrayed only by the dim glow of his hair's embers.

She nodded once, the signal they had agreed upon.

Daerreth stepped forward from the shadows, his obsidian skin gleaming like magma in the crimson light. He had already stripped naked, and Milaena could clearly see him erect and ready as he approached the bed. Milaena's eyes moved over his body. His cock stood fully erect, thick and dark against his stomach, the head glistening slightly with pre-cum that caught the moonlight like a single tear. Daerreth’s steps were reluctant and unsure of himself, but his body had no such doubts about what it wanted, and he’d clearly enjoyed the show so far in spite of knowing what his role it in would be.

Milaena shifted her weight, using her thighs to hold Valdis's head firmly in place as she reached forward to grip the smaller woman's ankles. With a smooth motion born of terrible purpose, she pulled Valdis's legs apart and held them open, exposing her to Daerreth's view.

The fire genasi hesitated at the edge of the bed, his face a mask of conflicted emotions. For a moment, Milaena feared he might back out, might refuse to complete his part of their bargain. The thought sent a flash of panic through he. If he didn’t follow through then there would be no memory spell, and Valdis would remember everything…

Then, just before her growing sense of panic could send her spiraling down into the darkness, Daerreth moved forward again and positioned himself between Valdis's spread thighs, his hand guiding his cock to her entrance. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.

Valdis stiffened at the sound of the unexpected voice, going still as a statue. Then Daerreth thrust forward and stabbed his cock to the hilt inside of Valdis’s soaked cunt in one smooth motion.

The young lesbian jerked in shock beneath Milaena, her scream muffled against the priestess's pussy as she realized what was happening. Her bound hands strained against their bindings, her body twisting in a desperate attempt to escape the sudden invasion. Milaena's weight held her firmly in place and stopped her from escaping. Her thighs clamped around Valdis's head as Daerreth sank into her.

Then Daerreth started to thrust and Valdis screamed again, the vibration shaking Milaena's clit and making the half-elf tremble with unexpected arousal. The fire genasi’s first movements were slow and deliberate, a measured withdrawal that seemed to pull the very air from the room. Daerreth's obsidian cock emerged from her lover's body with an obscene wetness, the black shaft glistening with fluids that caught the light that filtered through the chamber. Milaena's eyes widened, transfixed by the unnatural size of it compared to Valdis’s seemingly tiny entrance, how it transformed her lover's sex to a fleshy ring that clung desperately to the invader.

Time stretched like honey as each inch revealed itself one at a time until nearly the entire length stood exposed, only the bulbous head remaining captured inside. The momentary pause felt eternal, a breath held between agony and anticipation. Then Daerreth pushed forward again with force. Milaena watched her lover's body jolt, spine arching off the surface and her voluptuous tits bounce violently as the massive shaft buried itself to the hilt. The wet slap of flesh meeting flesh echoed through the chamber, punctuated by a strangled cry that tore from her lover's throat. That sound… something between pleasure and torment. It made Milaena’s stomach clench.

Again Daerreth withdrew, this time with a twist of those narrow hips that seemed to wrench another sob from the body below. Milaena could see everything—the way her lover's entrance stretched impossibly wide, how the inner flesh clung to the retreating shaft, pulled outward as if the body itself couldn't bear to release him from being inside of her. Juices trailed in rivulets down the obsidian length, dripping onto the sweat-slick thighs beneath. Then in again. Out, then in.

The thrusting became relentless, each penetration to the hilt before fading back. The sounds were obscene: wet, squelching noises mixed with grunts and whimpers. Milaena's lover's juices had transformed from mere wetness to a frothy cream that coated the base of Daerreth's cock, evidence of a body responding despite the violation—or perhaps because of it.

Milaena had sworn to herself she would bear witness to this, that she would not turn away from the consequences of her choice. Yet now, with each brutal thrust that shook her lover's body, with each glisten of that unnatural cock emerging soaked and triumphant before plunging back into yielding flesh, she found herself not merely observing but captivated. Her own clit throbbed traitorously, responding to the lips and cries of the woman beneath her… but also to something about the primal display of dominance before her. There was something terrible in its unstoppable rhythm. The way her lover's entrance was forced to accommodate, to surrender, to be reshaped around the invader. The way it didn’t even put up a fight, and was destined to lose before it even started to resist. The way Valdis’s perfect body that she had claimed so many times betrayed itself, growing wetter and more receptive even as her tears streamed from clenched eyes to stain Milaena’s thighs.

Looking at it now, the priestess didn’t want to look away. The horror and arousal twisted together in her gut like serpents mating, inseparable and poisonous. She found herself not merely enduring the sight but becoming entranced by it—by the raw power, the inevitability, the surrender that she had never wanted and would never experience. It brought her mind back to the displays that the governor and his wife had put on, and the surprising effect it had on the half-elf. She had wondered what it would feel like to truly have that kind of power… not just the soft, agreed-upon submission of her lover but to truly be in a position above her.

Now she knew, and it was even more hypnotic than it had been that night in the mansion, and even more distracting… but Milaena couldn’t allow herself to be distracted anymore. Her magic had been building as she watched, and now Milaena let it out in a soft white glow that channeled her regenerative power down into Valdis's body beneath her. Divine energy flowed between them like liquid silver, continuously restoring any damage to Valdis's never-before-skewered cunt. At the same time, Milaena released a second incantation, stealing away her pain. It still had to go somewhere, though, and Milaena accepted it for her own… after all, she had made this decision. If someone had to hurt, it was only fair that it be her.

The sudden sensation hit her like a battering ram—she felt every inch of Daerreth's considerable size stretching her unprepared flesh. Even through Valdis’s wetness, the burning friction of his cock forcing its way into a body that wanted no part of it hurt. Milaena hadn’t considered the way her healing magic would continually keep Valdis tight around Daerreth, the way her stretched pussy would narrow again between thrusts as it was restored and how it would never grow any less snug around his dick, but she experienced it now and had to bite her lip to keep from whimpering. She would be strong. This was just a little bit of dick… no big deal. She grit her teeth and maintained the twin spells, ignoring the way each thrust of Daerreth's hips sent fresh waves of discomfort through her core, the magical connection ensuring she felt every moment of Valdis's violation as if it were happening to her own body. The fire genasi was being far from gentle, his motions forceful and hard. Milaena suspected that he wanted to finish this terrible task as quickly as possible, but it did leave her rather uncomfortable.

Thankfully, there was something she could do about that.

Still holding her lover's ankles wide, Milaena shifted her weight forward. Her thighs trembled with tension as she ground her slick, swollen pussy harder against Valdis's gasping mouth. Each deliberate rotation of her hips smeared her wetness across Valdis's tear-streaked face, leaving glistening trails across her cheeks and nose. Milaena's engorged clit caught against Valdis's upper lip, sending electric jolts of pleasure up her spine that temporarily overshadowed the transferred pain throbbing between them.

The pleasure and pain tangled together in Milaena's mind like thorned vines, creating a dizzying spiral of sensation that left her gasping. Her breaths came in short, ragged bursts, her chest heaving as she rode the wave of conflicting feelings. Sweat beaded between her breasts, trickling down her stomach to mingle with the arousal coating her inner thighs. Valdis's tears flowed freely now, streaming down her temples into her tangled hair and pooling hot and wet against Milaena's inner thighs. The salt of them mixed with the musky scent of sex that hung heavy in the air around them. The beautiful sorceress’s cries vibrated against Milaena's cunt, the muffled sounds adding texture to the stimulation. She wasn’t exactly trying to take pleasure from any part of Valdis’s misery, but it was impossible to ignore the way each desperate sob sent ripples through Milaena's flesh as her lips trembled against the half-elf’s clit.

Valdis thrashed her head from side to side, seeking even a moment's reprieve to draw breath. Her lungs burned with the need for air, panic rising like a tide as Milaena's weight continued to press down relentlessly. She twisted her neck with desperate strength, tendons straining visibly, fingernails clawing uselessly against the bed sheets as she sought purchase to escape. Her shoulders bucked upward in futile attempts to dislodge the weight crushing down on her face, but Milaena merely adjusted her position, using her thighs to hold Valdis's head in place like a vise.

With each frantic movement of Valdis's head, Milaena felt her arousal building higher, feeding on the struggle beneath her. She leaned forward slightly, changing the angle to press her clit directly against Valdis's nose, using her captive's face as nothing more than a tool for her pleasure. The wet sounds of her arousal moving against skin punctuated the heavy silence of the room, mixing with Valdis's choked sobs and Milaena's increasingly labored breathing.

"Please," Valdis managed to gasp between Milaena's grinding movements, her voice breaking with desperation. Her pleas were barely audible, muffled by Milaena's flesh, but the raw anguish in them pierced through the priestess's determination like a blade between the ribs. "You can’t… can’t do this! Stop it!”

For a moment, doubt assailed Milaena again… then the memory of Samara's fist inside her, stretching her beyond endurance while soldiers laughed, banished the doubt. This was nothing compared to that. This was downright pleasant… and it would protect Valdis. "Don’t worry," Milaena said, her voice strained from the transferred pain she continued to absorb. "This will save all our lives, Valdis. Try to understand."

Daerreth continued his thrusts, his face trying to stay stoic but unable to hide the raw pleasure that Valdis’s body was clearly bringing to him. His hands gripped the redhead’s hips with bruising force, holding her in place as she tried futilely to squirm away from the invasion. He was squeezing her flesh hard enough that Milaena could feel the pain through the magic… just one more thing she was protecting her lover from.

Even through the haze of pain and magic, Milaena couldn't stop watching the way Valdis's heavy tits bounced and jostled with every thrust. They moved hypnotically, the plump mounds heaving up and down in a rhythm that matched Daerreth's pounding. Milaena reached down, unable to resist the compulsion, and seized both breasts in her hands, squeezing them together so the pale flesh bulged out between her fingers. The weight of them was obscene, the feeling all the more intoxicating because she knew she’d never get to hold them like this again, never have the opportunity to make sure she was enjoying herself despite everything. Daerreth's fucking was relentless, and the energy of it made Valdis's body thrash so hard that Milaena's hands kept losing their grip. She laughed, a wild and desperate sound, and dug her nails in harder, pinching and pulling at Valdis's nipples a little harder to hold onto them. It made her body arch and squeeze and made Daerreth’s next thrust hit even deeper as the fire genasi drove the tip of his cock against Valdis's cervix. Valdis cried out, and the scream vibrated through Milaena's clit at the same time as the pain transferred through her spell, and the combination was so intense that Milaena nearly blacked out from it.

Beneath Milaena, Valdis's sobbing intensified, her body jerking with each thrust. Between gasping breaths, she managed to form words that struck Milaena with devastating force. "How… how could you do this…” she whimpered. “I thought you loved me!”

Milaena felt like she had been slapped, struck momentarily deaf by her stunning words. “Of course I love you," she insisted, her voice rising with sudden passion. "I love you more than anything in this world. That's exactly why I'm doing this!"

Valdis only cried harder, her tears soaking Milaena's thighs. "People who love each other don't do this," she sobbed, her voice breaking. "They don't hold each other down to be... to be..." She couldn't finish the sentence, overcome by a fresh wave of grief as Daerreth thrust particularly deep, causing her to choke on a scream.

Milaena felt a surge of irrational irritation. She was just being so whiny. What did she have to complain so much about? It didn’t hurt… Milaena knew that it didn’t hurt, because she was enduring all of that for her lover. Why couldn't Valdis understand? Why couldn't she see that this was for her own protection? Why was she being so… selfish?

The irritation grew, transforming quickly into anger. Acalia had endured far, far worse than this since the moment she caught the eyes of her owners, and her return to that misery had nearly killed her. It had killed Vashara. Rashon had watched his people be killed and had been enslaved for decades. Daerreth had lost the woman he loved and needed to sacrifice parts of himself to get it back. And Milaena… she had suffered, suffered at the hands of the Imperials. Had been violated and humiliated by dozens, had her rapist’s scaled fist tear her open from the inside while they laughed at her. That had actually hurt.

And here was Valdis, protected from even feeling pain thanks to Milaena's magic, still complaining about a temporary annoyance that would save all their lives.

The anger crystallized into something cold and sharp, and Milaena did something she would never have believed herself capable of before that moment: She dropped the pain transfer spell entirely.

Immediately, Valdis's body arched beneath her as the full sensation of Daerreth's violation hit her unprotected nerves. She screamed into Milaena's pussy, the sound vibrating against the priestess's clit as Valdis suddenly felt everything—the raw friction of Daerreth's cock stretching her unprepared cunt, the bruising pressure of his hips against her thighs, the burning violation of having a man inside her for the first time in her life.

"You think this is bad?" Milaena growled. Frustrated, the half-elf hadn’t realized that she had started squeezing and twisting Valdis's nipples roughly between her fingers, but once she realized it took her another long second to stop. "Do you think the Empire will let your lover be there when they take you, Valdis? Do you think they will let me make sure you are wet before they push their way inside of you? Do you think they will take away your pain, restore you? You have no idea what it is I’m trying to save us from… What real violation feels like." She slapped one of Valdis's large flopping breasts, watching the flesh redden beneath her palm. "All you have to do is take a little dick, and it will save your life along with the rest of us. It's nothing compared to what I went through… and you won’t stop whining about it!"

Valdis whimpered beneath her, the sound laced with agony both physical and emotional. "Please," she begged, her lips moving against Milaena's flesh. "Please make it stop hurting. Please, Milaena."

"You're being so selfish," Milaena accused. She had to bite back the urge to slap her breast again to get her attention… she had always enjoyed doing that, but it had never been punishment before. Never been for real before. "Selfish and childish. You think I wouldn’t do this? You know I would in a second… I’d sacrifice myself to keep you safe without a moment of hesitation. Only this time, I can’t. I wish I could do it so you didn’t have to, but I can’t let a man inside of me, and I need you to be the one who steps up and keeps us all safe… and you're acting like getting fucked is the end of the world."

"I hate it," Valdis managed to gasp between sobs, the words vibrating against Milaena's clit. "Please... it feels wrong... I don't want this..."

The admission only fueled Milaena's anger. "You think I wanted Samara's fist inside me?" she demanded, slapping Valdis's other breast for emphasis. "You think Acalia wanted to be a slave? To get fucked every day by men she hated? At least you have me here. At least it's not strangers. This is nothing compared to what we suffered. Nothing compared to dying like Vashara did.” She continued to grind against Valdis's tear-streaked face by sheer instinct at this point. She leaned down, pressing her fingers against Valdis’s clit and rubbing at it, feeling the way the swollen thing bucked against her over and over with each of Daerreth’s thrusts. “I’ve always shielded you from the pain of the world, Valdis… and this is how you repay me? Do you want the pain to go away?”

Valdis continued to cry, her body jerking with each of Daerreth's thrusts. The fire genasi had shut his eyes now, his face contorted with unwilling pleasure as he kept fucking Valdis. He was deliberately avoiding looking at either woman, as if not seeing their faces might somehow absolve him of his role in what was going on here. "I'm... I'm sorry," Valdis finally choked out between sobs, her words muffled against her lover’s groin. "Please... it hurts so much. Please make it stop."

"That's not good enough," Milaena said coldly. "Say you were being selfish. Admit it."

"I was being selfish," Valdis gasped, her voice weak. "Please... I'm sorry... please help me..."

Something in the utter brokenness of her tone finally penetrated Milaena's cruel detachment. What was she doing? This was Valdis… her Valdis, her love, her heart. And she was torturing her, punishing her. It was true that she was being selfish… but Milaena didn’t want the woman to ever need to understand how cruel the world could be. That was why she was going to take the woman’s memories, after all. A flash of shame washed through Milaena, temporarily drowning out the righteous certainty that had driven her to this point.

The priestess didn’t hesitate… she quickly willed the protective spell that was transferring her lover’s pain back into place. Within seconds, the pain in Valdis vanished and the tension fled her body. Milaena felt the new pain growing inside her once more instead… and was surprised to feel that it wasn’t as bad as she remembered. It didn’t hurt badly at all, and her arousal could almost entirely cover it up. She cradled Valdis's tear-streaked face between her thighs, reaching back to smooth her messy hair with a trembling hand, trying to offer some token of comfort even as her own cunt ached with need. She forced her voice to be gentle, a soft murmur barely audible over the wet, obscene slap of Daerreth’s hips against Valdis’s body. "Shh," she soothed, "It’s alright now, Valdis. I’m only trying to protect you. I promise. I won’t let it go again.” The priestess watched the tangle of limbs and pain and submission beneath her, dazed and mesmerized by the grotesque tableau she herself had engineered.

She had done all of this. She was the one who had made this plan, and executed it. She'd put Milaena here. She'd recruited Daerreth. She was in control again.

Milaena’s cunt was already achingly wet, slick with the heat of arousal and the sickly aftertaste of guilt, even as the weight of what she’d done to Valdis pressed down on her chest like a physical force. She felt awful for what she was doing… but all the shame in the world wouldn’t erase the thrill of having this kind of power. She didn’t chose the way having it made raw, animal need leak out of her, pooling in her cunt and making her clit throb with each erratic heartbeat. She tried not to think about Daerreth, about the way his cock was driving into her lover’s soft, pale body, but the wet slap of his hips against Valdis’s ass made it impossible to ignore.

“You’re alright now,” Milaena murmured, brushing Valdis’s crimson hair away from her wet cheek. “It’s alright, my love. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” She stroked Valdis’s jaw beneath her groin with gentle fingers, tracing the outline of her chin. “Let’s make love, Valdis. The way we always do. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Milaena squirmed from side to side… the sensations being transferred to her from the spell made it almost feel like she was the one being fucked, and it wasn’t hurting much anymore… instead, with how aroused she was, it was just making her need worse. “You won’t have to think about anything but me. We can make it up to one another. Apologize to each other, and everything will be alright again.”

The half-elf licked a line down Valdis’s stomach, savoring every twitch and flinch, until she reached the woman’s thighs. There, between Valdis’s legs, was Daerreth’s thick shaft, plunging in and out of her with relentless force—a sight that should have filled Milaena with rage, or horror, or disgust, but instead made her own cunt clench with a twisted, traitorous need. It was, she realized, the closest she would ever come to experiencing it herself.

She hesitated only for a second, then pressed her face between Valdis’s thighs, inhaling the mixture of Daerreth’s musk and her lover’s own spicy-sweet scent. The scene of him reminded her a little of Cassius, but she was the one making the choice now… she didn’t let it bother her, even when her warding protection tingled on the edge of her awareness, preventing her tongue from getting any closer to where his shaft parted Valdis’s folds in its relentless quest to spill his seed. Milaena licked at her lover’s clit, and the ward pushed against her harder… but she wasn’t going to get any closer so she ignored the discomfort and forced herself to keep going, to show Valdis that she wasn’t ashamed, that nothing could make her turn away. “Aren’t you going to lick me, too?” she purred.

“I… ok…” Valdis whimpered, her voice small and uncertain. “Please don’t make it hurt again.”

“It won’t,” Milaena promised, her tongue flicking over Valdis’s clit with practiced skill. “I swear, it won’t. Just let me do this. Let me make you feel good, and you make me feel good...”

Valdis whimpered, her jaw trembling as she navigated the raw friction of Daerreth’s cock spearing her from behind, her own face pressed into Milaena’s wet, dripping cunt. She hesitated, lips fluttering in a string of silent pleas, but then her tongue flicked out, caressing Milaena in that familiar way she always did. Milaena gasped... she hadn't realized that she was that close. “Don’t stop,” she hissed, voice barely audible over the slap of Daerreth’s hips. “You said you’d do anything for me. Make me feel that.”

Valdis’s tongue obeyed, tentative at first, tracing a quivering line along the folds before plunging deeper, lapping at Milaena’s clit with the same mixture of devotion and terror she’d shown before. Milaena was too lost in her enjoyment to think about how joyless her licking was... right now, the desperation she lapped at her with read as lustful to Milaena in her own haze of ravenous need. She pushed herself down, smothering the woman's whimpers with her cunt as she did the same to herself with Valdis. The combined sensations were electric, a white-hot line of fire drawn directly between the two women. Milaena dug in, hips rolling, arching her body until her breasts were high in the air. Her body demanded everything from her lover—her tongue, her tears, her submission, and every bit of pleasure. Only when Valdis’s lips locked around her clit and sucked, desperate and trembling, did Milaena relax her grip the tiniest bit, allowing the woman to breathe in frantic little gasps as she licked.

“That’s so much better, isn’t it?” Milaena whispered against Valdis’s pussy. “I’m sorry, Valdis… but you’re going to be alright. I’m going to make sure you never need to know how easy you’ve had it. I’m going to protect you.” Valdis lay still, the tension in her body rising and falling. Milaena could feel every twitch of her through their bodies meeting… but she kept licking, slow and gentle, coaxing out tiny gasps of pleasure between her soft cries. She wanted to please the woman she loved. Daerreth’s thrusts became more erratic, his breath coming in harsh grunts. Milaena barely noticed him, focusing all her attention on Valdis—on the way her body responded, the way her thighs quivered, the way she started, despite everything, to moan softly under Milaena’s tongue. It was a sad, broken sound, but it was real.

She licked harder, her hands squeezing the woman’s firm ass and pulling it towards her. “You’re almost there,” she whispered, the words a command as much as a comfort. “Cum for me, Valdis. Please. Just let it happen.”

Above them, Daerreth’s face was a twisted mask of shame and reluctant ecstasy, his eyes clenched shut, jaw tight. Yet his body betrayed him, every muscle coiled and straining as he pounded into Valdis’s tight cunt. The magic healing she’d cast on Valdis to make sure her body wouldn’t be damaged meant that she was clamping down on Daerreth’s cock with impossible, unnatural strength. Each thrust seemed to squeeze him tighter, milk him harder, driving him to the brink with every stroke.

Milaena’s gaze drifted down, fascinated by the sight of Daerreth’s cock sliding in and out of her lover with obscene clarity. The lips of Valdis’s pussy stretched around his length, glistening with both natural lubrication and the residue of his own precum. The sight was hypnotic, and Milaena found herself timing her own grinding motions to the rhythm of his thrusts, their movements inextricably linked.

Valdis gave a strangled sob, but her tongue never ceased its motion. She licked and sucked and licked again, her tears falling freely onto Milaena’s thighs, mixing with the slick juices from both women until the entire bedding was soaked. The wetness, the smell, the heat… it was as if the trauma itself had become an aphrodisiac, fueling Milaena’s need to dominate, to consume, to make this suffering the most Valdis would ever need to experience. She pressed herself down more firmly on Valdis’s face, smothering the woman in her cunt until Valdis’s nose was buried in the folds and her breath came in short, frantic bursts. Only then did Milaena allow herself to let go, to lean back and surrender to the sensation, the magic, the pain and pleasure in perfect equilibrium.

For a moment, time slowed. She was aware of every detail: Daerreth’s cock, thick and angry red, pistoning into Valdis’s pussy; the way Valdis’s ass jiggled and tensed with each impact; the desperate, frantic flick of Valdis’s tongue on her clit; the ache in her own cunt, the way it throbbed and pulsed in answer to the violation playing out inches away. She could even almost feel like Daerreth was fucking her from the transferred strain, that it was her pussy feeling a novel sensation that it had been forbidden.

Then Milaena came.

The orgasm ripped through her like a lightning bolt, every muscle clenching, every nerve ending on fire. She arched her back, screamed Valdis’s name, and drenched her lover’s face in a flood of juices, grinding so hard she nearly blacked out. Valdis drank it all, obedient to the last, licking and sucking until Milaena sagged back, spent and trembling. For a moment, Milaena simply lay there, her heart pounding, her body buzzing with aftershocks. She stroked Valdis’s pussy with her tongue, murmured meaningless comforts while Daerreth continued to fuck her lover, his cock never losing rhythm or strength.

Valdis peaked after just a minute more; an involuntary, pathetic shudder that wracked her entire body. She sobbed Milaena’s name as she came like a plea, her pussy clenching so tight that Daerreth nearly lost control. Still, the fire genasi held back, gritting his teeth, refusing to finish until Milaena gave the order. Milaena loved him for that, in a savage, transactional way. He understood the necessity of sacrifice. He was willing to be the monster when he needed to be, for her, for all of them. He was willing to paint his own soul black to make sure no one else needed to… She could respect that.

"It's going to be alright," Milaena whispered, her tone gentle between slow and comforting licks. "This is almost over. And then we'll all be safe." She cradled her lover's tear-streaked face between her thighs, convinced that what she was doing was necessary, was right, was the only way to protect them all from a fate worse than this momentary violation. "I'm doing this because I love you…" she insisted. "Because I love all of you. Vashara already died once. Acalia and I have both been through hell. I can't let that happen to you." She continued to tenderly kiss her way across her lover’s leaking pussy. "Love means sacrifice, Valdis. Sometimes it means doing terrible things to protect the people who matter most."

Behind them, Daerreth's rhythm began to change, becoming more erratic as he approached his climax. His breathing had quickened, short gasps escaping his lips as his hips drove forward with increasing urgency. He still refused to look directly at either woman, his eyes fixed on a distant point beyond the bed, as if he could separate himself from the act he was performing.

Milaena felt the change through her magical connection, sensing the building pressure through Valdis's body. She braced herself, knowing what came next was crucial for the necklace's activation. "Almost done," she whispered, her voice softening slightly. "Just a little longer." She looked up at Daerreth, and gave the man permission. “Fill her. It’s ok. Fill her up.”

Daerreth's control finally broke. With a groan that seemed torn from somewhere deep inside him, he thrust forward one final time, burying himself completely inside Valdis as his cock pulsed with release. Milaena felt just the barest echo of it through their connection: The hot splash of semen against Valdis's inner walls, the slight expansion of his cock as it emptied itself, the twitching aftershocks as he finished. Even without that, she would have known as Valdis went rigid beneath her, a fresh sob escaping her lips as she felt the alien warmth flooding her most intimate place. Then her body seemed to collapse inward, all resistance leaving her as she dissolved into open weeping on the bed. The sound was heart-wrenching, a keening of loss and violation.

Daerreth withdrew almost immediately, his still-hard cock slick with his own release as he stepped away from the bed. Milaena finally lifted herself from Valdis's face, releasing her lover from the weight that had held her captive throughout the violation. Valdis turned her head away immediately, unable to look at either of them as tears continued to stream down her flushed cheeks. Her breathing came in hitching gasps, her entire body trembling with the aftermath of trauma. The woman looked utterly ruined, her eyes red and puffy, her mouth slick with cunt and snot and tears. Milaena cupped her face, kissed her gently, and tasted the salt and shame on her lips. “See? You survived,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion. “You’re so much stronger than you think, Valdis. So much braver. I’m proud of you.”

Valdis tried to respond, but her voice was gone, choked out by the combination of sobbing and the relentless pounding she had taken. As Milaena reached for her, the red-haired girl flinched away, cringing in a way that made Milaena’s heart ache. It only lasted for a second before she sobbed and pressed her face into Milaena’s hand, clinging to the touch as if it was the only thing left that could anchor her to reality.

Daerreth slowly stepped back forward. His face was a study in conflicted emotion—shame at what he had done warred with the undeniable physical pleasure his body had experienced. Sweat gleamed on his obsidian skin, and the flames of his hair had rekindled to a bright flicker. "Is that... enough?" he asked, his voice rough with emotion. "For the spell?"

Milaena stared down between her legs and at the white fluid seeping out of Valdis. “It should be.” With deliberate care, she inserted a finger into Valdis's pussy, the younger woman flinching at the intrusion despite the gentleness of the touch. Milaena's fingertip came away coated with Daerreth's semen, a viscous, pearly fluid that glistened bloody in the crimson moonlight. Then she brought it up to the necklace she still wore and smeared her finger over the gem.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, the ruby began to glow with inner light, a deep crimson luminescence that spread from its core outward, encompassing the entire gemstone. The light pulsed in rhythm with Milaena's heartbeat, growing stronger with each beat until the entire necklace seemed to throb with power in her hand.

It was waking up.

A smile spread across Milaena's face, satisfaction washing through her as she watched the artifact come to life. She had done it. Despite Valdis's refusal, despite all the obstacles, she had found a way to protect them all. The cost seemed insignificant in the face of their survival.

"It worked," she said, her voice thick with relief as she held up the glowing necklace for Daerreth to see.

The fire genasi nodded once, his expression grim. "Then we're done here," he said, already reaching for his discarded clothing, eager to escape the scene of their shared transgression.

Behind Milaena, Valdis continued to cry softly on the bed, her body curled into a protective ball as far as her bound hands would allow. “How… how am I going to live with this?” the red-headed woman choked out between her silent sobs. “Am I… am I supposed to just pretend this didn’t happen? That you never did this to me? How am I supposed to just let it go, Milaena?”

Milaena didn’t realize it, but her eyes had started to glow the same shade as the ruby. She reached down to kiss Valdis on her forehead, and noted as she did that she had no difficulty not flinching away from the intimacy now the way she had earlier. She felt safe again. “Don’t worry, my love,” she whispered. “You won’t have to.”

---

Ten hours later the road stretched ahead of them, a dusty ribbon winding away from Westcreek toward the distant mountains. Milaena walked beside Valdis, the two of them falling into step behind Acalia and Rashon who led their small group with the wary vigilance of seasoned warriors. Vashara and Daerreth trailed several paces behind, the elf's silver hair catching the morning sunlight as she pointed out something in the distance to her lover. Milaena watched Valdis from the corner of her eye, studying her lover's face for any sign of distress, any hint that she remembered the previous night's violation. There was none. The young mage walked with her usual quick, light steps, occasionally gesturing as she spoke about the town they were heading toward next. Her hazel eyes were clear and unclouded by any regrets or fears, and her smile was genuine.

The necklace had worked perfectly.

After Valdis had cried herself into exhausted sleep the night before, Milaena had done exactly as Adeliah had said… she had focused on what she wanted Valdis to forget… the events of the night. Then, with Daerreth trailing along behind her, she had walked through the streets of the city one by one, thinking about how the town had rebelled against their masters when they had learned that the Imperial garrison nearby had mysteriously been destroyed by fumes seeping up from the ground. Any thoughts and memories of the heroes that had made it happen she let wash away like dirt in a pouring rain.

Afterward, she had returned to her room, bidding Daerreth goodbye and letting him return to Vashara and to the ruins of his own conscience… and had a few second thoughts. It wouldn’t do just to remove the evening, she realized… Valdis would still be angry at her. The woman didn’t deserve to have to be upset like that. She removed the memory of visiting Adeliah together and their fight afterward as well. Then, after a moment of hesitation, she also took away their argument over whether or not they should go and seek help from the woman in the first place. It would be better for both of them if they just agreed and didn’t have to fight, after all. Milaena had been thorough, ensuring that nothing remained that might trigger questions or suspicion.

And, just as Adeliah had promised, when Valdis woke this morning she'd greeted Milaena with drowsy affection, completely unaware of what had transpired between them. Outside on the streets, none of the six of them were recognized… no one cheered them, or tried to get their blessing, or asked for assistance. The necklace had done its work well.

Her eyes found Daerreth again, and she noticed he had been looking towards them. He quickly looked away, turning back to his conversation with Vashara with determination. He had kept several paces away from the others all morning, unable to meet Milaena's eyes whenever their paths crossed. The fire genasi kept his distance from Valdis especially, his guilt manifesting as awkward avoidance. Thankfully, none of the others seemed to notice… and if his flames burned low today in a reflection of his subdued mood, Milaena considered that a small price to pay for their lives. She doubted Daerreth would think otherwise… the two of them knew what it was to sacrifice for those they loved.

The mood as the six friends walked along was subdued but relieved—they had successfully erased themselves from the memories of everyone in town, becoming ghosts that the Empire would struggle to track. If the survivors of the garrison’s raid had been hiding in town still, Milaena would have erased their memories as well. If they had already fled, then the empire would only get a disjointed story of what had happened, and nothing the Inquisitors found would confirm any part of it. No descriptions of them would reach imperial ears through the townfolk, and no names would be whispered in fearful confession. They had saved the town, freed thousands of slaves, wiped out an imperial garrison… and then become smoke, insubstantial and forgotten, their very existence now a rumor that would fade with time.

It was the single greatest victory Milaena had ever heard of anyone winning against the Ironbound Empire, by far. Not since the days when the Iron Overlords had overthrown the Empire’s old rulers and taken over themselves had anyone dealt this heavy a blow to the cruel Empire. They had accomplished more than Milaena had dreamed possible.

Behind them, Adeliah's wagon rattled along the road, the merchant having offered to accompany them to the next town. Milaena thought that was an excellent idea. Since she knew about the amulet her memory was intact after all, and that made her the only one who could confirm the stories about them to the Inquisitors if she were caught. It was best to keep the woman close. Besides, she was as complicit as any of them in this blow against the Empire.

"Where did you get that necklace?" Valdis asked suddenly, breaking into Milaena's thoughts. Her small hand reached out, fingers hovering just above the ruby pendant that hung around Milaena's neck. "It's beautiful."

Milaena smiled easily, the lie coming without hesitation. "I bought it from a merchant in town before we left," she said, touching the warm gem with casual affection. "Do you like it?"

"It's lovely," Valdis replied, admiring the way the sunlight caught in the ruby's depths. "The color suits you."

"Yes," Milaena agreed, her fingers caressing the smooth surface of the stone. "It really does."

A hundred yards up the road, Acalia and Rashon stopped where a withered oak marked the fork. The goliath leaned on his hammer, scanning the line of hills to the east, while Acalia’s head was lowered in fierce debate. Milaena could feel the tension radiating off her even from this distance: the set of her broad shoulders, the war-weathered braid lashing behind her like a black banner, the way her sword hand twitched restlessly at her side. Rashon, by contrast, stood stoic and silent, but his granite-feathered brow was furrowed with a kind of nervous expectation.

Valdis, lost in her own happy ignorance, prattled on about the ecosystem of the next valley, and Milaena hummed and nodded, clutching the amulet at her throat as if it might anchor her to the present. The memory spell’s aftertaste had become a sour, metallic tang that wouldn’t leave her mouth. She kept her eyes on the fork, watching as Acalia finally waved her arm and signaled them forward. Milaena steeled herself to face whatever the discussion would bring.

Acalia didn’t waste words. “The road splits. This path hits the lakeshore towns—Ironclad, then Duskgate. Both are pretty small, about the size of Westcreek… and there’s another Legion garrison.” She glanced at Rashon, who grunted his agreement. “We were thinking… we could do it again. What we did here.”

Milaena felt her heart sink. Her face must have fallen too, because Acalia was quick to continue. “Obviously, we’ll use a different poison. Make sure we don’t repeat that disaster. This garrison is smaller, anyway… local, instead of provincial. If we take enough of them out though, we’ll be cutting off the Empire’s supply chain on the outskirts. It will force them to pull troops from the front lines to reinforce and hold it. Maybe we can even free a few thousand more slaves.” Her tone was hopeful, almost recklessly so.

Rashon broke his silence. “If we do this, we have to move fast. The Legion will move. Retaliate.”

“Let them,” said Acalia, her mouth twisting in a grim smile. “If we punch enough holes, the bastards will have nothing worth defending. The real question is…” Acalia’s eyes locked on Milaena, hard and searching. “Can you do it again? Make the people forget us again, so the Empire is chasing ghosts?”

Milaena’s stomach twisted. She felt her hand tightening around the ruby, the stone now uncomfortably warm against her skin. She’d thought the price was paid, that her soul could rest for a few nights before the next horror, but already the scales tipped forward, demanding another blood offering. The weight of what she’d done pressed on her like a stone slab on a grave. The image of Valdis, limp and insensate, flickered behind her eyes every time she blinked. She thought of the memories she’d stolen, the sanctity defiled, the justifications stacking higher than the corpses they’d left behind.

Then Valdis, smiling and infectious, nodded enthusiastically. “There’s nothing Milaena can’t do. Isn’t that right?”

Milaena’s smile was weak and full of doubts, but she forced it onto her face. She and Valdis had sworn to do this. After Valdis had spent weeks crying over finding everyone she had ever known dead by the Empire’s hand, she and Milaena had sworn they were going to bring them down… and this was a way to actually do it. Would Valdis forgive her if she had the opportunity to hurt the Ironbound Empire the way they swore to, and didn’t take it? “Yes. Absolutely. I can do it.” She glanced at Valdis, whose hand was already reaching for her own. “I’ll keep us safe. It won’t… It won’t be a problem.” She pointedly ignored the way she could feel Daerreth’s eyes boring holes in the back of her skull. She even more pointedly didn’t acknowledge the sudden warmth in her belly that spoke to the fact that the thought of what she might have to do again wasn’t entirely unpleasant. She enjoyed the power, and the control… and after all, it was victimless. No one was being hurt.

Rashon spoke again, this time with real feeling. “You saved us once. I trust you.” He looked at Acalia, and put a hand on her shoulder. “We do it. Whatever it takes.”

Valdis grabbed onto Milaena’s hand and squeezed, completely oblivious to how the fate of everyone around her depended on what Milaena was willing to do to her. “We’re actually going to do it, aren’t we?” she whispered. “We’re really going to hurt them.”

Milaena kissed her forehead and rubbed her thighs together. “Whatever it takes.”

They set off toward the lakes, following Acalia’s lead, the sun already burning away the morning mist. The road stretched out before them, long and merciless, and Milaena kept her eyes up, refusing to look back even once.

---

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