Vassal by Sterling D'Este (reading books for 7 year olds .txt) 📗

the forest. The animals were large in size, though nimble enough on cloven feet, with horns branching from their skulls and thick red fur. Their wide eyes showed the whites as they dashed away, clearly chased by some predator.

The last animal had bounded past Va'al when their hunter appeared. Where they had been relatively loud, huffing and hurrying to escape, she was fleet-footed and sleek. Wrapped in no more than a fur cloak and blood, she was gleefully sprinting after the animals.

When she spotted Va'al, she came to a stop so suddenly it was eerie.

She stood in complete stillness for several heartbeats and then nodded to Va'al. Her eyes were the color of flames and her skin the ashen grey of logs long burnt. Heat rippled from her body, and she approached to sniff at Va'al. Nostrils flared, and then the woman's lips peeled back to reveal a sharp smile.

“It’s been some time since someone from the Cursed Realms has come through. I thought Ruyaa would be the last of them, crazy dreamer. But here you are.”

At the mention of the Cursed Realms, Va'al stilled, some old instinct of preservation making him tense and careful in the presence of a creature more powerful than himself.

And she was more powerful. He could feel it, though if it was due to her inherent strength or some source of magic within this world, it was impossible to tell.

“How many have made it?” he asked finally, unsure whether he felt relief at not being alone or fear that this new world would be no better, no different from the one he had escaped.

The woman shrugged, uninterested in the topic. Her eyes were roving over his form keenly, and her smile grew even wider. “A few.  Less than a dozen. Though it’s been over a hundred years since the last came through, and likely she only believed it because she is so… odd. It’s strange that you are here. From what I understood, the Unmakers stopped allowing audiences. How did you know this was real?” she held up her hand to indicate the unmarred land around them.

“I didn’t.” Va'al shrugged, letting his eyes follow the curve of her gesture. The female had made no move to attack, and he felt himself beginning to relax, at least partially. If there were only a dozen of them here, then surely there would be none with the power to enslave. “But even if it had not been real, it could not have been worse than remaining there.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her interest in his looks and straightened to display himself more prominently. The woman was lovely, for all her power, but she just snorted derisively at his efforts. “What were you, back in the Cursed Realms? A soldier?”

Va'al shifted uncomfortably beneath her gaze but managed to crack a crooked smile. “What does it matter? The Cursed Realms are behind us now. I will carry none of that place with me. Nothing but my name.”

“Very well.” She didn’t seem to care that he was hiding his past. Instead, she took the furs draped over her body and slung them across his hips. “What is your name?”

“Va'al.”

“An old name. A slave name. They loved naming us terrible things, didn’t they? Thought they were funny,” she murmured. Looking him up and down one last time, she jerked her chin over her shoulder, indicating he should follow. “Not as old as mine, though. Enyo.”

He looked at her a long, quiet moment, their names hanging between them like motes of snow. Finally, she turned on her heel. “Let’s go.”

❂

For a long time, they walked through the forest, their combined breaths filtering up through the grey sky in little puffs of steam. Her footfalls were silent, and his were near enough. She didn’t mind the cold despite her own bared skin but remembered when she first came to Illygad how strange it had felt to be warm or cold. This body hadn’t been ravaged by war and whippings and everything else. She actually felt here.

A terrible and wonderful sensation.

Finally, they came up over the last jagged hillock and stared down into the valley where her people gathered and lived. “Glynfford.” She explained, watching little spirals of smoke avidly. “There are other beings who lived here before I came. Animals and people alike. They aren’t like us, though. Smaller, weaker. Short-lived.” Some humans were visible now, little dots moving around like ants.

“I live here some of the time, but mostly I stay in the forests. I lived in the stockyards, long enough to wish never to feel another creature’s body against my own while I sleep.” In the stockyards they were pressed together heel to crown, not enough room to fight or fuck or sneeze.  “In the mountains, I can breathe.”

“All this world and all we have to share it with is a few others like us and a few even weaker?” Va'al took a deep breath, his lungs expanding with the frigid air. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so free to breathe before.”

Enyo smirked and started her descent. It was certainly more simple and freeing than the Cursed Realms ever had been. Here they were allowed to be whatever they pleased, not forced to fight and maim and breed. Not worked and kept as pets.

“I will say, though, these fragile beings need a fair bit of guidance. I help them; in return, they honor me. It works well, though you do have to share with the others.” The others that had come over. Esha, Ruyaa, Maoz.

Of course, there was enough space here that it hadn’t been a problem in many many generations. Not since she overthrew Kirit and limited him to the frozen wastes of the north. “They didn’t know much of anything. But they are fast learners, and they don’t ask for much.”

“They honor you…” Va'al said, his uncertainty obvious. In the Cursed Realms, one did not question those with more magical power. “They are the source of your magic, then?”

“In