Defiant Necromancer (Book 2 stubbed)

“He’s the man from your dreams,” Vidalia said. “And mine. And yes, also the world’s strongest necromancer.”

“I-I can’t…” She spoke the words, but she felt her own lack of conviction, eroded over months of relentless seduction.

I was sent to defeat you… How did I end up here?

“You have choices,” the necromancer said. “You can fight me and try to kill me now, as you are, as your allies left you. Shackled, unarmed, alone. Probably a bad idea. You could remain here as my guest, which is to say, you’d be a prisoner, but you’d be in a gilded cage, protected from all harm, fed well, and taken care of as long as you behave. I take good care of my possessions, as I’ve said already. Or I can return you to where you were, as you were. Helpless. Powerless. In the Kingdom’s custody. It’s technically true that I could let you just walk away free… but a paladin of the Love Goddess would inevitably be an enemy of mine. I’d be better off simply leaving you with the Kingdom than letting you move freely. It’s not as if you know anything about me that could help them or hurt me.”

“Or?”

“You can become what I want you to be.”

“A paladin of your evil Death God?” That had to be what he meant by opening herself up to his power. That was not where she had thought the night was going. Samara couldn’t hide her disappointment from herself. She had hoped that Tybalt wanted her for… other purposes. But it was all about power in the end.

“He’s more misunderstood than evil,” Vidalia said. “All the beastfolk worship Lord Mudo. We have for millennia. The worshippers of Vika and Astara have driven us from every place we’ve lived, persecuted us, and invented a narrative where they were the good side.”

Samara swallowed. She really didn’t know the truth about any of this, she recognized. And it also didn’t matter.

“My vows are for life,” Samara said. “I can’t undo them merely by swearing again.”

“Will you try?” Tybalt asked. She felt him staring her in the eyes. “If you’re willing to, I’ll assist you with my power. I am the High Priest of Mudo. We can change your fate. Together.”

She felt temptation. She licked her lips. She opened her mouth to utter a weak refusal - and then his mouth was on hers, pressing an unexpected kiss. It was better than in her dreams, and her arms automatically flew around his neck. Somehow she could move to do that. That was odd, and in the back of her mind, she wondered at that. She was shackled, and she hadn’t been able to move a moment ago.

How…?

He pressed her down with his weight, and all coherent thought fled. She felt his hands groping, one squeezing her ass, the other slipping between her thighs, finding her already wet entrance and beginning to softly stroke it. The only fingers that had ever touched her there besides her own. It was like the dreams again… or better.

Samara moaned into his mouth, and then he withdrew.

“If you join us, we can have a relationship,” Tybalt said quietly. “Sex. Children. Perhaps, in time, love. I think you wanted that before. You know exactly who and what I am now, so the choice is yours. You can make it with open eyes.”

Her judgment was gone, she knew that - she was sleep-deprived, shackled, naked, brain addled by lust - but Samara also recalled that she had broached this subject with her sister before. She had asked to be released from her vows because she wanted what the necromancer was offering. She hadn’t known who he was at the time, but that wasn’t the point. Rather, the key was that this wasn’t just an idea he was pushing on her now, when she was in a compromised state.

She sat up and kissed him on the lips, her tongue slipping into his mouth, fingers tracing a path down his chest.

When she allowed their mouths to separate, they were so close that despite the darkness in the room, she could see he was smiling triumphantly.

“Promise me,” she began.

“What?”

“That you’re not trying to end the world. That’s what our religious texts say the Death God wants. To destroy all life and reset the world to zero. We and our ancestors have fought too hard to dig ourselves out of the mud that humanity is born into to accept that. I will not…” She swallowed down a lump in her throat and sat up a little straighter. She still had the force of will to stand for this one thing. “I will not be party to that. I will not betray the living for that.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Tybalt said. “I have no desire to end the world.”

Samara had a Detect Deception skill. It could be fooled, theoretically. But now, in person with the man who had been seducing her for months, it didn’t register any deception. The paladin felt a great sense of relief, mingled with confusion.

“You can see I’m pregnant,” Vidalia said in a tone of disbelief. “Do you think I’d risk my health, my life, to birth Tybalt’s children, if he was trying to destroy all life? We’d… be using some method to prevent pregnancy if that was the plan.”

You make a compelling point, the paladin thought. But she forced herself to ignore the foxgirl’s words. Her denial wasn’t the one that counted. It wasn’t Vidalia who had sworn herself to the Death God.

“Swear it,” Samara insisted, staring firmly into Tybalt’s eyes.

“Fine,” he said. “I swear on Lord Mudo, on my mother’s grave, on Vidalia’s and my unborn child, on all things sacred, I do not want to end the world, and I am not trying to do that. I want to rule it… and settle scores. Now, do you want to belong to me, or are you picking one of the shittier options?”

“I want it,” Samara said simply. “I want you.”

“Good. Then don’t resist this. Don’t resist, or you might be destroyed.”

Before she could ask any other questions, he placed a hand over her heart, gently resting it atop her left breast. Then she felt it.

A surge of power invaded her body, from within the necromancer and from somewhere more distant. She knew it was the power of his Death God.

It was good that the necromancer had given her at least some brief warning. Her instinct was to resist however she could.

Instead, Samara just tried to hold still and let it flow through her. It was hard - painful and pleasurable at once, not something she could be indifferent toward - but she was strong, in her way. She had years of experience in enduring things.

As quickly as it had flowed into her, the power seemed to reach her core. It altered something, and Samara felt her connection to Astara falter, then become solid again.

I thought I would lose it entirely. What is he doing?

Then she felt the presence of a god occupying the same space as them. Not the distant, barely involved presence of her own deity, but a scrutinizing gaze that seemed to scour the whole world simultaneously but to settle finally, inevitably, on her. An intense, overwhelming pressure washed over her, and she felt instantly crushed under the great weight. If she hadn’t been sitting in bed, she would have fallen to her knees instantly. As it was, she almost flopped flat on her back. She barely held herself still, conscious that if she pulled back, she would break the physical contact with the necromancer’s hand.

What is this…?

A feeling of profound understanding washed over her after a few seconds of this, and she began to relax.

As system alerts slowly appeared in her field of view, Samara mentally assented to all of the ones that required her permission.

It would be all right. Yes, it would be all right…

***

“What happened?” Vidalia asked quietly.

“Success,” Tybalt replied.

Somewhere in his mind, he had heard Death God Mudo laugh. A scornful sound, but not directed at him or at Samara. The Death God was pleased to have beaten Lady Astara in some sense. Tybalt felt a sense of certainty that he would have more of the Love Goddess’s attention sometime in the future.

But then, he already had her enmity.

He couldn’t see how drawing more of it could really make a difference.

What mattered was right in front of him and beside him and occupying every corner of this house. His women.

Samara opened her eyes, and she smiled. It was the most light and carefree expression Tybalt had seen from her since he reconnected with the paladin.

Then her expression turned bittersweet.

“You changed my status,” the paladin said. “I no longer have to worry about being stripped of my power by Lady Astara. I can feel the ties now, to both Astara and Death God Mudo. I don’t know how it’s possible to be a paladin of two deities, let alone deities who are enemies, but you did it.”

Why do you seem unsure about whether to be happy about it? Tybalt wondered. Weren’t you worried at all about losing your status if we had sex?

“What’s your new class called?” he asked aloud.

“Renegade Paladin of Shifting Divine Tides.”

“That’s a mouthful,” Vidalia observed.

“It’s powerful,” Tybalt said knowingly.

Samara nodded. “Yes, master… or should I call you ‘Your Holiness’ now? I will serve you and your god well. I felt the presence of Lord Mudo, and I heard his voice. I understand now that he wasn’t what I was led to believe all my life, on the rare occasions that he was mentioned. Those of us who are most devout are those who have been most deceived.” She finally let out a sigh. “My system informs me that you will give me vows to swear. So that I can transition from gaining power through the exclusive service of Lady Astara to gaining power by serving Lord Mudo… and defying Lady Astara. I’m guessing that these vows will be similar to my existing paladin vows, but please specify the wording of my oath.”

She sounded disappointed about needing to swear new vows. The necromancer already knew what he wanted, though, so he simply spoke the words and waited for her reaction.

“I swear my everlasting loyalty and fidelity to the High Priest of Mudo, Tybalt Black,” Tybalt said. “I swear to obey him, to fight for his causes, to bear and raise his children well, and to only engage in intimacy with him and his other partners.”

“What?” Samara’s jaw dropped.

“Is there a problem?” he asked, placing a finger under her chin and gently closing her mouth.

A smile flickered across her lips for a moment, and she shook her head.

“No, master,” she said with relish. “I wasn’t even aware that paladins could take vows that were… not to forsake things so much as to embrace them.”

“Well, you’re the first new paladin of Mudo I’ve ever created,” Tybalt said. “The vows are a work in progress. If you don’t like them—”

“They’re perfect, master,” she said, emphasizing the last word again. “Please repeat them once more, and I’ll swear to them.”

“I swear my everlasting loyalty and fidelity to the High Priest of Mudo, Tybalt Black, my one and only master. I swear to obey him, to fight for his causes, to bear and raise his children well, and to only engage in intimacy with him and his other partners. I swear to uphold these vows from now until my dying day, on pain of losing all that the Death God and his priest have given to me.”

Samara repeated the words, then looked up into his eyes expectantly.

“How should we seal these vows?” she asked.

The necromancer almost wanted to laugh. The wording of the oath was almost like a wedding vow, and he knew exactly what she meant.

“I’ll teach you exactly how to serve your master,” Tybalt replied.