The Rites
The quiet footsteps of the General and the Priest of Noxits echoed through the wide corridor, every step heavy with the implications of what had just transpired. Neither man spoke, their silence not uncomfortable but steeped in thought. Tolius trailed behind, his eyes ever-watchful, though there was a hint of tension in the way he moved, his shoulders slightly tighter than usual, betraying the unease that lingered in the air.
As they approached the sleek, silver elevator at the end of the hall, its polished surface caught the soft glow of the overhead lights, reflecting distorted images of their faces. The General pressed the button with a firm finger, and the doors slid open soundlessly, revealing the cool, metallic interior. They stepped inside together, the confined space, a difference to the expansive corridor they had just crossed.
Tolius positioned himself just beside the door, his posture stiff and protective, his hand twitching slightly as if still ready to act, despite the calm setting. The Priest’s eyes drifted around the small cabin, yet his mind seemed far from the present moment, his normally cheerful expression weighed down by contemplation. The General stood at the center, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze fixed forward, unflinching as the elevator hummed to life and began its ascend.
“Strange times we find ourselves in,” he muttered, his tone carrying both reflection and purpose.
The Priest nodded slowly, his white beard brushing lightly against his chest as he turned to the General. "Indeed. The merging of two souls in one vessel... it’s more than unusual." he said, his voice low, yet rich with insight, as if carrying centuries of wisdom.
Tolius flicked his eyes between the two men, remembering the event. He had witnessed the ritual, seen the body of the queen dissipating in blue fireflies and rise going towards the pink hued woman, leaving the coffin empty, felt the shift in the room as her soul found residence in another body. But the enormity of it still clawed at the edges of his understanding, elusive and vast.
Finally, the elevator doors parted with a muted chime, revealing the grand hallway to the highest floor. Tapstries adorned the walls, a tribute to the deep history of the Noxits. The once vibrant depictions of kings and queens seemed too pale now, their grandeur overshadowed by the events that had just taken place. The General strode forward, deliberately, his boots resounding in the corridor as though every step was in tune with the tension in his body. Beside him, the Priest of Noxits moved with quieter steps, his thoughts clearly focused elsewhere, absorbed in contemplation, as they approached the General’s Office.
The door to the office opened with a soft hiss, revealing a space that almost felt oppressive on its own.
Without a word, the General crossed the room, feeling the soft rug under his boots, his gaze fixed straight ahead on his destination. He lowered himself into the chair behind the desk, his fingers drumming lightly on the polished wood for a moment before leaning back, gesturing towards them to sit down. “Sit”, he commanded, his tone carrying authority but no harshness.
The Priest offered a small nod of respect, before seating himself, smoothing his robes as he settled in. His eyes were calm, but a flicker of intrigue danced within them, a curiosity that spoke of mysteries not yet voiced.
Tolius remained by the door, his presence a quiet but formidable reminder of the duties that bound him to the General.
The General leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under the shift of his weight as he tried to ease the tension that had gripped him since the ritual. His eyes drifted over the surface of his desk, settling on a small box of tobacco he’d left there. With a sigh, he reached for it, tapping out a roll of tobacco onto a paper and methodically rolling it between his fingers.
As he lit the cigarette, the flicker of the flame momentarily illuminated his face, casting sharp shadows across his furrowed brow. He inhaled deeply, letting the smoke fill his lungs, its familiar bitterness a brief respite from the whirlwind of thoughts.
"Hmm..." the General murmured aloud, his voice thoughtful, "where did I hear about this before? The planet of Vasta? The Drids? Hekos?" He paused, taking another drag before releasing a slow exhale of smoke that curled up toward the ceiling. "The Luntis?" His eyes narrowed as he tried to place the fragmented memories. His military mind, usually so clear and focused, felt clouded by the enormity of the spiritual phenomenon they had just witnessed.
The Priest raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "You’re thinking of ancient practices and teachings. Many cultures have explored similar concepts, blending physical and spiritual training to achieve harmony. It’s not unusual for different worlds to have overlapping knowledge."
"True," the General agreed. "I suppose the complexity of our situation makes it even more vital. We need a plan that respects the Queen''s position while addressing her new reality. We must ensure her training reflects both her previous role and her current state."
The Priest leaned forward slightly. "Precisely. And we must remember, although the pink-hued woman is now one with the Queen, it’s crucial to respect her identity. She’s not just a vessel but the Queen herself. Referring to her as ''the Queen'' is not only accurate but also shows respect due to her new role."
The General nodded, taking a thoughtful drag from his tobacco. "Yes, of course...” he says thoughtfully.
“Let’s formulate a detailed plan. Spiritual training will be combined with combat and meditation, ensuring that all aspects of her new identity are addressed."
The Priest of Noxits watched him silently, his expression calm but attentive. He could see the strain in the General’s demenaor, the weariness that came with grappling not only with physical battles but with the unseen forces of the soul. He folded his hands on his lap, the long sleeves of his robe falling softly over them. “Spiritualism isn’t as simple as it sounds, General”, his voice measured.
The General nodded slowly, his eyes distant, still searching for a piece of the puzzle. "I’ve heard of soul bindings before," he mused, leaning forward slightly, "but two souls in one body? It''s a rare thing. I know of places where the spiritual teachings mention such phenomena, but this feels...different. More intense. Something about it reminds me of the stories of Vasta. Or maybe it was the Drids and their ancient rituals."
The Priest tilted his head thoughtfully, stroking his long beard. "The Drids have long dabbled in soul transference, but theirs is a practice of balance, not force. The queen’s presence in this new vessel was not by choice, as she herself admitted. It’s more akin to the rites of Hekos, where souls are intertwined by destiny rather than will. Yet, even Hekos’ rituals don’t account for the sheer power of what we saw today."
The General tapped his fingers against the desk, the rhythm of his thoughts quickening. "And the Luntis...they dealt in energy absorption, yes? But their practices were centered on manipulating energy fields, not souls. They merged energies, not entire beings."
The Priest nodded slowly. "Correct, General. The Luntis focused on raw energy, but in their teachings, they hinted at something deeper—an underlying truth that connected energy and soul. Perhaps what we are seeing now is a manifestation of that connection. The queen’s soul isn’t just residing in that body; it’s binding with it, affecting it. The energy, the spirit—they’re one now."
The General leaned back again, taking another long drag of the cigarette, his mind racing. "So what are we dealing with, Priest? Is this something we can control? Understand?"
Silence settled over them with no answer, a moment to reflect as the General contemplated the Priest’s words, the smoke from his cigarette curling upward lazily.
The General took one last drag of his cigarette before stubbing it out in the ashtray on his desk. His gaze turned more focused, the weight of his responsibilities settling firmly on his shoulders. "The queen told me to train her," he began, his voice firm but contemplative. "Said that the woman—herself—needs to learn how to hold her own energy now, to manage the power within her again almost like a newborn. I had already planned on training her... but not for this reason."
he Priest of Noxits raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "You had already foreseen the need for her training?"
The General nodded, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the desk. "I was going to train her to defend herself. She was... inexperienced, green in so many ways. She wasn''t a warrior, the school wasn''t prepared to teach warriors, but soldiers." He trailed off, exhaling slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "Now it''s not just about training a body, but teaching her to control something far more volatile. The queen’s presence, being actually a part of her own soul, complicates everything. She’s going to need discipline—more than she’s ever known. I need to teach her how to channel it without losing herself. And from what I’ve seen, she’s strong-willed, but will that be enough?"
Just as the General finished speaking, the soft hiss of the sliding door caught both their attention. Fereyan stepped out of the bedroom, the tension in his expression easing as he nodded toward the General signaling he''s done putting her to bed.
The General gave a curt nod, his face softening just slightly as he acknowledged the update. "Good," he said simply, turning his attention back to the Priest. "She''ll need her rest. What comes next will be unlike anything she’s ever faced.
Fereyan, still standing near the door on the other side with Tolius, seemed to hesitate for a moment, his gaze flicking between the General and the Priest, sensing the gravity of their conversation. His role had always been to protect her body, but now, even he could see that her mind—and perhaps her soul—needed protection too.
As the General lingered on in his silence, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. “Very well. I’ll begin arranging the necessary training protocols. We’ll need to consult with experts from each tradition and ensure that the integration process is as smooth as possible.”
The Priest''s eyes were calm and wise, reminiscent of a serene Buddha, and his long, white beard almost touched the floor.
"Would you care for some yer, esteemed Priest?" the General offered, trying to extend a gesture of hospitality.
The Priest shook his head gently, his voice soft yet resolute. "Thank you, General, but I have matters of my own to attend to."
The General nodded in understanding. "Very well. Your presence and counsel have been invaluable. We will proceed with the plan as discussed."
With that, the General and the Priest of Noxits rose from their seats. They shook hands firmly, a gesture of mutual respect and gratitude. The General’s eyes conveyed his deep appreciation.
The Priest gave a slight bow, his calm demeanor unwavering. "It is my duty and honor to assist. May the Queen''s transition be smooth and her new role fulfilling."
Fereyan and Tolius, standing nearby, both nodded respectfully towards the Priest. Their silent acknowledgment was filled with gratitude and recognition of the Priest’s vital role in the ongoing events.
Lingering arousal
As the Priest of Noxits departed, the General sank into his chair with a deeper sigh of relief, his mind slowly settling into a more focused state. Out of a sudden, the watches of the guards filled the room, a rhythmic reminder of the time passing and their imminent shift change with other soldiers. Every 6 months they change shifts, giving time for their relaxation as well.
The sound was almost comical in its regularity, and the General couldn’t help but notice the synchronized dance of the guards trying to remove their ticking clocks. Tolius and Fereyan both glanced at their watches, their faces momentarily expressing the same mix of amusement and urgency.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
"It''s that time again, huh?" the General said, his voice tinged with dry humor as he observed the scene. "You two seem awfully attached to those timepieces."
Fereyan, his face flushing with embarrassment, looked at the General with wide, earnest eyes. "General, please—if you could just allow us to stay a little longer, we’d be honored to continue our watch. This situation is—"
"—important, yes," Tolius interrupted, his usually stoic demeanor cracking slightly as he leaned forward. "We need to ensure everything remains secure. We both feel strongly about protecting you, General. This matter... it’s vital."
The General studied them both, an unreadable expression on his face as he absorbed their fervent pleas. Despite his stoic exterior, he couldn’t help but enjoy the earnestness of their requests
The General''s eyes sparkled with a trace of playful intent and a hint of mischief as he leaned forward, locking his gaze onto Fereyan. "You know, Fereyan, I''m feeling rather benevolent today. But I''d like to see just how committed you are to your duties. Why don''t you demonstrate your commitment by begging on your knees?"
Fereyan paused, his cheeks flushed with a mix of shyness and submission. Despite the discomfort, he slowly lowered himself to his knees, his head bowed in supplication. "Please, General," he urged, his voice quavering with a blend of humility and determination. "We are truly committed to our responsibilities and wish to continue serving you."
As Fereyan knelt, the General noticed the subtle evidence of the arousal in the guard’s trousers, the growing bulge betraying his reaction to the submissive stance he had been ordered to take. The General''s gaze swept over Fereyan''s form, appreciating the sight of his subordinate''s eagerness.
"Ah, Fereyan," the General said in a voice that was both rich and seductive. "I can see how much you relish this position."
Fereyan whimpered softly, his physical response evident as he shifted on his knees, the friction only amplifying his arousal. The warmth of the General''s stare fueled his growing need.
The General smirked, savoring the display of dedication from his subordinate. "You are quite something, Fereyan. I imagine you''d be eager to know what it feels like to be with a queen, wouldn''t you? You cheeky rascal."
Fereyan''s blush deepened, yet he kept his head bowed, not daring to look up. The General then turned his attention to Tolius, whose stern demeanor remained unchanged. Nevertheless, the General''s perceptive eyes caught the noticeable sign of arousal in Tolius'' trousers, a clear mark of his reaction to the scene. "And what about you, Tolius? Do you find yourself intrigued as well?"
Tolius met the General''s gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the question. "My duty is to serve and protect you, General. My personal desires are irrelevant."
The General chuckled, entertained by Tolius'' rigid response. "Oh, come now, Tolius. Surely there are some desires hidden beneath that tough facade of yours. No need to be so hard on yourself."
Tolius remained silent, his jaw tightening as he fought to maintain his composure. The General''s probing had struck a chord, but he refused to let it show. Instead, he stood resolute, his eyes fixed on the General''s.
"Tolius," the General said, his tone laced with amusement. "You may try to conceal your desires behind that stern mask, but your body reveals the truth. I can see how this situation affects you."
The General reveled in the control he held over his guards, their reactions a testament to his dominance. He reclined in his chair, his gaze shifting between the two men, relishing the palpable tension that enveloped the room.
"Very well, then," the General said, his voice heavy with gratification. "You may both remain on duty, as I''ve stated. But remember, my loyal guards, I am fully aware of the yearnings beneath your steadfast exteriors. And I might decide to explore those yearnings further."
The soft rustle of bedsheets marked the queen’s awakening. Emerging from the bedroom with a newfound determination, her demeanor was markedly different from her former self. The regal essence she now exuded was unmistakable, though she still bore the same pink-hued visage. She had yet to fully grasp her transformed identity, but her comportment was a testament to the reality at hand.
With a confident stride that defied any prior hesitations, she stepped out of the bedroom, her gaze scanning the room with an audacity that surprised those present. The subtle glow from the room''s lighting cast gentle shadows, but the queen''s boldness was unmistakable.
"Have I missed the burial? What happened?" she asked, her voice a mix of confusion and newfound authority as she rubbed her eyes, attempting to dispel the remnants of sleep.
The General, his face an unreadable mask, observed her with a flicker of curiosity. His eyes, usually stern and commanding, now held a trace of intrigue as he took in her transformed demeanor. Fereyan, still kneeling and visibly tense from earlier, emitted a low, growling sound of discontent. His eyes, narrowed in annoyance, were locked on the queen.
The queen’s gaze shifted to Fereyan with a sharp, challenging look. "And what''s wrong with you," she paused, struggling to recall his name, "Fereyan?" She raised an eyebrow, her expression a blend of irritation and curiosity.
Fereyan’s growl deepened, but he remained silent, his posture rigid as he grappled with the queen''s abrupt change in behavior. The queen''s eyes then returned to the General, seeking answers with a mixture of challenge and inquisitiveness.
“Why are you all looking at me like that?” her stance was unwavering, her newfound confidence evident despite the enigmatic circumstances.
The General''s gaze remained steady as he took in the queen''s transformed demeanor. The room''s atmosphere, heavy with an unspoken tension, seemed to shift with her presence. He leaned back in his chair, his expression a blend of amusement and contemplation.
"Ah, the queen awakens," he said, his tone laced with a hint of irony. "It seems you’ve taken quite a leap from your previous self. To answer your question, the burial you missed was of little consequence compared to what has transpired."
The queen, still standing confidently, folded her arms across her chest. Her eyes, sharp and unyielding, locked onto the General. "What are you implying? What has happened that would warrant such a dramatic change in my surroundings and the way I am treated?"
The General''s lips curled into a subtle, enigmatic smile. "You see, my dear queen, your previous state was one of subservience, a role you were accustomed to. Now, however, you are someone different—someone with authority and a presence that demands respect. Your new position requires a shift in how we interact, and perhaps you are already feeling the weight of that transition."
The queen''s eyes narrowed, a spark of defiance flickering within them. "I do not understand what you mean. Are you suggesting that I am now of higher status, and that these men," she gestured towards Fereyan and Tolius, "are to treat me differently? Why are you calling me queen? Is this mockery?!"
The General nodded slowly, his gaze drifting to Fereyan, who remained on his knees, a mixture of frustration and admiration in his eyes. "Indeed. The dynamics have changed, and with that change comes a new set of expectations. Fereyan, for instance, has demonstrated his willingness to show devotion in many ways. The General leaned forward, his eyes meeting hers with a steady intensity. "It will prepare you to fully embrace your role as queen, to command with authority, and to handle the complexities of leadership with confidence. Your new essence is a reflection of your role, and with it comes the need to master both your inner self and the external challenges you will face."
The queen’s cheeks flushed with indignation as she puffed her cheeks and huffed with adolescent defiance. Her radiant pink face, so recently adorned with regal poise, now reflected a more relatable human frustration.
Her hands flew to her hips, and she glared at the General with a mix of exasperation and rebellion, tho silence loomed over her.
"Seriously? So, this is it? I’m just supposed to accept all of this without question? You think you can just tell me what to do and I’ll happily follow along?" she declared, her voice tinged with adolescent angst.
She fidgeted with the edges of her off-shoulder silver-grey dress, the fabric draped over her newly awakened form. The once elegant attire now seemed almost incongruent with her spirited defiance. Her eyes darted around the room, struggling to reconcile her physical self with her newfound role.
The General let out a long, exasperated sigh, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and resignation. "Children," he muttered under his breath, his tone carrying a hint of weary affection. He stood up and approached the queen, his expression softening despite his stern demeanor.
The Blindfold
"Come here," he said, gesturing for her to step closer.
The queen, her defiance momentarily paused by curiosity and a hint of uncertainty, took a hesitant step forward. As she approached, the General reached into his trousers and pulled out a silver blindfold. The delicate fabric glimmered in the subdued light, its purpose clear.
"What is this for?" she demanded.
The General’s lips curled into a wry smile. "This is to help you focus, to begin the journey of understanding and mastering your role. Sometimes, clarity comes when we remove ourselves from the distractions of sight and let our other senses guide us.
Fereyan and Tolius watched in silence, their expressions reflecting a mixture of respect and curiosity as the queen faced her new reality under the General’s guidance.
The queen''s attention returned to Fereyan, her expression one of mild contempt. "Why is he kneeling? Was he a good boy? How quaint."
Fereyan''s posture stiffened, but he held his tongue, his eyes flicking nervously between the queen and the General.
The General''s gaze remained unwavering as he adjusted the blindfold over the queen''s eyes, its fabric cool and smooth against her skin. The moment it settled into place, her breath hitched, and a tremor coursed through her. Fear surged within her, memories of the last time she had been blindfolded flooding back and mingling with her current anxiety. Her body stiffened, breaths coming in rapid, shallow bursts as she fought to regain control, but the sense of panic was overpowering.
The General watched her with a blend of intrigue and empathy. "Huh... queen?" he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of gentle mockery.
Her sobs were the only response, every sound marked by the quaking of her form. The terror that enveloped her was evident, a stark departure from the commanding demeanor she had exhibited moments before. The General, fascinated by her reaction, gave her shoulder a light, almost teasing slap, attempting to provoke a reaction.
Her response was a strained "Sir..." The word emerged weak and unsteady, lacking the royal authority she had shown earlier. It seemed as though the blindfold had restricted her energy, forcing her into her previous self, a state of vulnerability.
The General’s expression was a blend of curiosity and subtle amusement.
He watched her closely, noting the way her body tensed and her breath quickened beneath the blindfold. The tension in the room was palpable, charged with the queen''s anxiety and the General''s deliberate intent. He seemed to take a quiet pleasure in observing her struggle, his eyes keenly tracking every shudder and gasp.
As the General carefully removed the blindfold from the queen’s eyes, a notable transformation unfolded in her expression. The initial surge of panic began to wane, giving way to a deep frown and a sharp exhale of frustration. Her chest puffed out as she squared her shoulders, crossing her arms in a clear gesture of defiance and self-assurance.
"Don’t put it on me ever again! You got that?" she demanded, her tone brimming with irritation and resolve. Her eyes, now fully exposed, displayed a firm and assertive gaze.
Without waiting for a reply, she marched over to the alcohol cabinet with purposeful strides, her movements imbued with a newfound assertiveness. She reached for a shiny amber bottle and poured herself a generous measure into a near transparent glass, the clinking of the glass reverberating through the room. As she took a hearty sip from her glass, it was clear she was asserting her independence, determined not to be dominated or restrained by anyone.
The General murmured softly to himself, his tone contemplative. "Ah, I see. That is indeed accurate." He continued to ponder silently, reflecting on the connection between their souls. ~Given that the queen''s essence was intrinsically linked to her former self, it made sense that her energy, when diminished, would mirror the weakness of her previous persona. ~ His thoughts lingered on this realization, as he considered the implications for her current state.
The queen took a deep breath, attempting to steady herself, and sipped from her drink with a nonchalant air. She placed one hand on her hip, her posture a mixture of defiance and casual bravado as she observed the scene unfolding before her.
Fereyan, visibly shaken and his knees unsteady, broke the silence. "Sir... I beg you..." His eyes, filled with an earnest plea, were locked on the General. The General acknowledged Fereyan’s request with a subtle nod, signaling him to rise and return to his designated position.
The queen shifted her gaze from Fereyan to the General, her expression a mix of curiosity and irritation. "Well, this is fun. Where is my king?" She paused mid-sentence, a sudden realization dawning on her. "What?" she asked aloud, her confusion evident as she grappled with the unexpected thought. The words seemed to hang in the air, revealing her uncertainty about her current situation and her lost sense of identity.
The queen''s brow furrowed as she grappled with her shifting emotions. "Well, this is confusing... Who—what am I feeling? Wait, I didn''t absorb the information completely." She paused, her eyes searching the General''s face with growing concern. "Am I not a soldier anymore? Why do I feel like I''m floating? Why don''t I fear you anymore?" Her voice reflected her struggle to comprehend the drastic changes she was experiencing.
The General, observing her with a faint smile, responded with a chuckle. "Don’t worry about it. Your training will begin soon enough. You’ll follow orders as you always have and earn your place among my people. For now, you have your own group—consider yourself fortunate. You possess a newfound sense of control," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.
"You were handling submission and discipline well before, but now it seems we must start from scratch," he added with a dark, knowing laugh. His gaze flicked to Tolius and Fereyan, who, having lifted their heads in response to his words, displayed an intense, almost primal hunger as they awaited his command. The General leaned back in his chair, his posture relaxed as he gave a nod to Tolius, who approached with the given blindfold.
Meanwhile, the queen continued to drink absently from her glass, her focus wavering. Without notice, Tolius seized her with a firm grip, restraining her as she yelped and struggled to break free. Her hand, still holding the glass of alcohol, trembled violently. The once delicate liquid swayed precariously within the glass, its contents shimmering under the dim light of the room. A sharp, involuntary gasp escaped her dark blue lips as Tolius’s rough hands began to restrain her, the sudden movement jarring her balance.
The glass slipped from her grasp, and time seemed to slow as it fell. The liquid inside splashed out in a wide arc, spilling over the rim and cascading through the air. The golden liquid glistened briefly before it hit the floor with a series of sharp, splattering sounds. The alcohol spread rapidly, forming a shimmering pool on the polished floor.
As the glass shattered, tiny fragments of crystal scattered, their sharp edges catching the low light and casting fleeting reflections.
Tolius’s actions were swift and unyielding. He continued to tighten the blindfold and bind her hands with practiced efficiency, profounding her sense of helplessness.
The General watched the scene unfold with a dark approving gaze. His voice cut through the room, his tone laced with a mixture of anticipation and command. “Boys…” he said low, his left eye gleaming with a faint purple light. "It’s time to play." The phrase hung in the air, carrying with it an undeniable sense of foreboding and excitement.