Verenestra’s Gifts
Or
The Crimes, Seductions, and Misdemeanours of Sal’yashe, Vol. II
Snaketember YCH, 2022
18+ Only

VERENESTRA
The feywilds chill this time of year. Would you
Show  kindness to a poor and frigid girl
And give her just a touch of your fair warmth?
ARAETH
As much as I would like to, dearest fae,
It is not mine to give. Please understand
My gift is best bestowed on mortal hearts.

VERENESTRA
Do you not find me worthy?

				ARAETH
Faith, I do.
But that does not bestow  a special right
To my warm gifts, above all other things.
But please, feel free to send unto my abbey
A servant of yours, receiving in your stead
My gift, which they may then share unto you.
For now, I must away, and so -
VERENESTRA	
					Adieu.
O dear Araeth. I thank you for that boon.
And so, I’ll have my way. I know just how
To steal your heart, and leave those mortal pests
Without your gifts. which they do not deserve.
A fine revenge for spurning me, you shit.
And when you’ve been laid low, you will perceive
My beauty and my grace, and love me true. 

Sal’yashe, my darling worm. I’ve work for you.

Part I. The Artefact

The Abbey of the Eternal Heart was not difficult to find; the eponymous enchanted stone that was cloistered within the abbey cast a glow that one could feel in their soul for miles around. Even though the abbey was surrounded by a deep, dark, swampy forest, its burning beacon made the journey as easy and effortless as if you were walking home, towards your bed after a long day’s toil.
It was well known that no one in the abbey slept; there was no need for it. The aura and light of the Eternal Heart, at once invigorating and calming, kept them free from fatigue, or exhaustion, or any lethargy at all. The rumours of the abbey being full of tightly wound, tetchy monks, were wildly overstated, and any belief in them was dispelled the moment one was embraced by the Heart’s aura, like a perfectly kept hearth.

Pilgrims came for many reasons. Some were devotees of Araeth, the minor deity of life, passion and rest. They were there to pay tribute and see the gift Araeth had bestowed upon the mortal plane. Others came for therapeutic or curative reasons; being in the vicinity of the Heart could cure many ailments of the mind and body, from insomnia, to anxiety, to hysteria.
Particularly around this time of year, the summer solstice. In this particular spot, thanks to the movements of the sun and the light of the Heart, the abbey remained bright for more than a full day; as though the sun had never set at all. This was when it was at its most powerful, and as such, this was when a visit was most sought after.

It was not possible to accommodate swarms of pilgrims, however. It would overwhelm the place, both in a physical and spiritual sense. The only fair option was, of course, drawing lots. A select few would receive the honour of being able to travel for the solstice service. 
That made Steph feel a little bad. The only reason he was here was because he threw in his lot on a whim; the only real ailment he had was wanderlust. But then, maybe there was an unknown longing, an emptiness inside him that needed to be filled. There was only one way to find out.

Steph’s plumage bristled and fluffed as the first wave of the warmth hit him. It was like a hearth, but also like the hot steam of a sauna. With his plumage - bright orange with a shock of blue at the top - he fit right into this dappled warmth. 

The well trodden dirt path amidst the trees was a little narrow. The orange bird was stuck behind a couple, both clad in robes that hid their appearance. He did catch a hint of a sapphire serpentine tail dragging out from the taller figure. They were walking very closely, side by side, and he could see the other walker’s hand kept angling to hold the snake’s. It was gently batted away each time. 
While, normally, Steph would be keen on passing them by as soon as he could, he knew there was no reason to jostle. They were all headed the same way, and he didn’t want to make enemies.

“Exciting, isn’t it?” he tried to strike up a conversation with the two ahead of him. They must have thought he was talking to someone else, at first. But after the long silence, the other hooded figure looked at him. A canine with grey fur and a crimson nose looked at him with confusion, and perhaps contempt.
Steph knew better than to continue the conversation. They were off in their own little world. 

Soon, the forest opened into a clearing. The dim daylight turned abruptly bright. It felt as though they’d passed through a threshold, leaving one reality and entering another. The Abbey stood in the middle of a vast, verdant clearing, its stone and thatches seeming to breathe with the glow of the Eternal Heart. 
“Wow…” Steph gasped. He wished he had a talent for drawing or sketching; he wanted to try to capture the sheer beauty of this place; he scarcely believed that he was awake. Having a bit more space, he slipped around the snake and the wolf and walked briskly ahead towards the sentries at the entrance.
He missed the conversation behind him.

-
“Should we head straight for the Heart? Then we can go home...”
“Patiencssse, Treat. We aren’t in that much of a rush. As long as you can work your magic on the Heart, and do as I sssay, everything will go perfectly.”
“Of course. Sorry for doubting you… I love you.”
“Mmmhm.”
-

The stone doors were slid aside by two impossibly muscular guards, their armour wrapped in sheaves and scarves of the honey-coloured fabrics - embroidered with the sunburst symbol of the god they worshipped. If the outside felt like daytime, the interior was as bright as midday, and Steph had to cover his eyes with a wing for a moment as he adjusted. 
The business inside seemed to be about as expected for an abbey. In one section of the grassy courtyard, robed mendicants knelt and sang a soft, chanting prayer. Others were carrying sacks and boxes to and fro; supplies and the like. One was tending to the green itself, watering it and gingerly plucking weeds as they went.

“It would be much quicker to do that by magic,” the snake said from behind Steph. He turned around to get a look at the sapphire snout.
“It’s kind of nicer this way though, isn’t it?” Steph said. 
“Mm.” The snake’s eyes - little emerald gems in two seas of yellow - looked long and hard at the bird of paradise, sizing him up. Like a piece of meat. It made Steph feel a little small, so he shrunk away again. He would try to give both the snake and the wolf a wider berth.
As Steph wondered if he would be able to wander around more freely, a lion approached him, his orange mane gleaming like a tapestry of a sun. He was tall, toned, and well-armoured. The smile he flashed made the bird feel a little bit of a blush come over him; the paladin was was incredibly handsome.
Next to him was a shorter, slighter cat, his black fur daubed with purple around the muzzle. He was dressed in more conservative robes, as well as a hat that made his head look a little like a brazier. 

“You’re the pilgrims, are ye?” the lion said, his voice far friendlier than his austere appearance might have suggested. “C’mon this way, we’ll set you up in your rooms.”
He turned and crooked his head. The smaller cat nodded and smiled, awkward and quiet, before turning to follow.
Steph noticed that the lion’s tail tip was aflame. Steph was about to say something, but as he glanced around for someone to assist, he noticed that the same flame danced on the tip of the other cat’s tail. In fact, a flame rested on every acolyte, on some part of their body. Whether it was on the tip of tail, the tip of a horn, or the very top of a head, all bore a gently flickering tongue of flame. 
As if reading his mind, the lion spoke up.
“All of us here received Araeth’s gift when we took our pledge to him. So his light always follows us around. I’m brother Veridis, by the way.”
“And I’m b-brother Sapphire,” the cleric added. 
“Very nicssse to make your acquaintancssse.” The snake pushed past Steph and glided alongside the lion, his cloth hood down and his cobra hood spread. There was a very conspicuous switch in his tone, a flirtatious one. “I mussst sssay, Araeth is quite good at choosing comely devoteesss.”
“Hmph.” Veridis smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Sapphire was a lot less reserved. 
“H-have some manners!” he squeaked. “We have taken a vow of chastity, and you will not bismirch it!”
“Calm down, brother,” Veridis said, placing a gentle hand on the cat’s shoulder.
Steph noticed the smaller cat go stiff, and caught the faintest ‘mrrp’ from his throat.

–

Brother Veridis’ gentle hand on Sapphire’s shoulder was like a hot iron brand. Just the briefest touch would make his imagination wander, wondering how that paw would feel elsewhere on his body. He yanked himself away from it, still feeling the pleasurable memory of that touch. Wishing it could travel…

To take his mind off things, Sapphire clocked the filigree-mirror brand on each side of Sal’yashe’s hood. He reckoned he was a warlock of some stripe, but didn’t know who his patron was. While there had not been any incidents since he joined the faith, Sapphire knew some visitors came because they coveted the Eternal Heart for some reason or another. Whether for their own greed, or at the behest of a patron or a god who had some quarrel with Araeth. Even so… better to separate him from the others.

“The ritual’s going to start at midnight,” Sapphire said to the group, “so you’ve a little time to rest. Afterwards there’ll be a feast and a reflection. Who here can write?”
There were only a handful of raised hands.
“Right, well, we’ll get a few scribes to take down notes for the rest of you. We’ll pass on a little form for those of you who can read. For now, though, we’re going to deposit you in your rooms so you have the space to unpack.”

By that point, they had arrived at the first dormitory door.
“This one is for…” Sapphire checked his scroll. “S…Salash?”
“Sal’yashe, that would be me.” The snake said with a honey-venom smile. 
“Sorry, Sal’yashe. It’s a hard name to read off a page.”
“No offencssse taken. And will I take my companion with me?
“Afraid not,” Veridis said. “The ritual requires each participant to remain separate until its commencement. A bit like a wedding or summat.”
“Cute.”
“But, wait-!” the heretofore-quiet wolf spoke up, pushing in to hew close to the snake’s side. 
“Sorry, rules are rules,” Sapphire said. “Araeth says, ‘Parting may be sorrow but the reunion is sweetened by the length of time apart.’”
“But… but I need to stay with him, please!!” There was a desperation in his eyes; not a calculating one, but an earnest desire not to be out of sight of the snake he’d come with. He looked like he was about to cry a little.
The poor thing is smitten… Sapphire mused to himself. I can relate. 

–

Treat, don’t worry. I have a plan already. I’ll see you before the ceremony.
B-but Sal’yashe, I don’t want to be away from you…!
Hush, now. Don’t give anything away.
But-
Good Treats are Silent.
…

-

Ciarán sulked for the remainder of the journey to his dorm, constantly glancing over his shoulder. He made eye contact with that annoying bird a few times, and he gave him an awkward, irritating smile. Someone else’s name was called each time they reached another doorway, which only deepened his heartache. An invisible leash between his heart and his Master’s was pulling tauter, more painfully by the moment. He was sure, at least, that Master was feeling that same heart-ache. He had to be.
He swallowed his screams, and sucked back his tears. He pictured the snake’s face. His hood unfurled and shone like a beacon. His lips and snout pursing as that phrase, that name he called him, slipped out from between them. 
Treat. 
The ghost of that word of endearment brought him the smallest amount of comfort.

“You all right?” the bird asked, bright and cheerful as his plumage.
“Yes.” Ciarán shot back, eager to shut the conversation down. Nothing mattered more than Sal’yashe. And getting back to him.
“You seem like a really cute couple,” the bird said. 
“It’s not cute. It’s true love. Our bond… it’s an unbreakable one. He and I love each other like nothing else in this world. He’s my everything, and I’m his.”
He didn’t expect the bird to get it.
“Ciarán?” The cat-cleric called out. The wolf went straight in without another word. He did not want to speak to another soul until he saw his love again.

-

“I’m lookin’ forward to a little more time to relax,” Veridis said, rolling his shoulders back and groaning under the weight of his armour. “Been up on my feet all day.”
“Yes, of course,” Sapphire added, constantly worrying his hands together. He was a little close to Veridis. He could smell Sapphire’s nerves and excitement. The poor cleric was always a bit of a flustered mess, especially around him. Not that Veridis could blame him; he was probably the most attractive of all the other devotees.
Sometimes Veridis was frustrated by his vow of chastity. He saw how Sapphire’s eyes wandered. He wanted to press the kitty’s face into his crotch, or under his pits after a long day’s work, and just see how he’d melt and purr…
But there was the vow, cockblocking him.

It was fine. He took the vow because of his addiction to sex in the first place, and Araeth’s blessing had made it far easier to keep those urges at bay.
Best to try and change the subject, convince Sapphire that he was just nervous about the ceremony. 
“You’re not nervous about leading things tonight, are you?” Veridis asked. “It’s easy, don’t worry.”
“N-no, not nervous at all, at all!” Sapphire choked, digging one claw into his palm. 
“It’s more of a formality than anything; the Eternal Heart’s not going to break to pieces if you fumble the words a bit or get too agitated.”
“Yes, b-brother, of course!”
“Get some rest beforehand.” Veridis gave him another squeeze, even though he felt like it was making the poor thing feel even worse. 
He could see a hint of a tent in the cleric’s robes, too.
It was time to back off; any more than this would be pushing his luck with his deity. 
“I’ll see you later on, then,” Veridis said. He assumed Sapphire would find some private quarters to take care of his arousal. He was going to do the same.

There was nothing wrong with self-pleasure; Araeth allowed for that as a release of pressure. So as soon as he saw off Sapphire, he found a secluded spot, tugged down his leggings and fished out his shaft. It’d take too long to doff his armour entirely, but he tried his best to keep his gauntlets from banging his greaves.
Veridis closed his eyes and travelled to his usual go-to. As he leaned against the wall, he imagined the little cat sandwiched between the wall and his body.
As he exhaled, he imagined the taste of the little black cat’s shoulder in his mouth. The shuddering breaths he’d make, those moans of his name…
His tight hole. 

There was someone in the room.
The cat wheeled around -
“Please. Do not ceasssse on my account.”
The scales curled up around his ankle. As he rested his hand on the handle of the discarded mace, the fingers refused to obey and simply draped themselves around the wrapped handle.
He tried to remember his prayers, his mantras that kept his arousal at bay.
But he forgot the words.
He tried to think of his vow of chastity.
But the snake’s slender hand around his cock reminded him of just what he had been missing.
And how he’d been missing it…
“Continue,” the snake cooed, his eyes flashing so beautifully.
Veridis nodded quietly. The snake gripped his wrist to help guide the paw up, and down, and up again. 
“My patron and yoursss are quite good friendsss,” the snake cooed, his breath sweet and cloying. “Did you know that?”
Veridis shook his head, still staring blankly. 
“Loverssss, in fact. Ssso I think one of the best things you could do for your god is to show a sssimilar love for me.”
“B…buh…” Veridis groaned. “Vow…”
“Forget the vow, darling Treat,” Sal’yashe cooed, dragging his nails along the paladin’s throat. “Debase it. Dissscard it. For me…”
“N-no…” Veridis’s jaw lifted from its slack position and clenched, and set. Even as his eyes continued to swirl with Sal’yashe’s magic, he tried to resist and pull himself away.
“You know thisss won’t work,” Sal’yashe said. “You’re already mine, you poor, sex-starved kitten. It’s jussst a question of how long it takesss until you break…”
“You…lie…” Veridis was drooling -from his mouth, and his cocktip- even as he tried to deny it.
But… he knew it was true.
And if that was true…
What other truths did the snake have to share with him?

–

What was Sal’yashe not sharing with him?
Ciarán didn’t even bother sitting down on any of the hard-looking cots. He stood, and waited. A thin blade of ice materialised between the wolf’s fingers, and he twirled it and twisted it to keep it moving and to keep his racing mind occupied. The sooner the ritual got underway, the sooner he could see his love again. But he didn’t want to wait. He had not been so far apart from Sal’yashe in weeks, and that absence was pulling his guts painfully taut and twisting them around inside him.
He needed to find his love. Fast.
He listened at the door - the stone halls of the abbey carried footsteps quite well, so he could tell if there were any monks patrolling. The coast seemed clear, so he slipped out from his room and crept down the corridor. Back in the direction of where his Master’s room was waiting for him. He just needed… further reassurance. 
Sal’yashe’s room was empty. Ciarán’s heart sank even further into his body.
Master had a plan, Ciarán had to remember that. But he thought he was part of that plan… the fear that he had been left out overcame him, and he scurried hurriedly down the halls of the abbey.
He went from the mess halls, to the backrooms, to the other sleeping quarters. It was difficult to stay oriented - no matter where he went, the magical artificial ‘sunlight’ poured in through all the identical windows in the identical halls and rooms. The deity’s blessing meant he had no idea which way was east, or west. Frustration built like a barely contained blizzard inside him, and his cryomantic powers left little traces of ice wherever his feet met the floor or his hands touched a wall. An icy print that melted and evaporated seconds after passing, but long enough to leave a trail. Ciarán shot concerned glances behind himself. He swore he could hear someone behind him, or that the jig was nearly up. He’d have to fight his way through to find the Heart on his own, and destroy it, and then Sal’yashe would see how much he loved him -

In the middle of this thought, Ciarán headbutted someone in the stomach by accident. He reared up, a thin dirk of ice appearing in his palm. He looked at his target, ready to strike, but stopped to watch the bird stagger and groan. It was that annoying pilgrim once again.
“S-sorry…” the other pilgrim said. “I didn’t see you there…” Ciarán stood up, the knife sublimating into nothingness. “You looking for the bathrooms too?”
“...Yes.” 
“You’d think they’d have given you a map, or something, hah!”
Ciarán grunted sullenly, trying to push past. 
“Have you seen my love?”
“Oh, I, uh…” the bird looked evasive. “No, I haven’t.”
“You’re lying.” Ciarán wasn’t sure of that, but he might as well bluff back.
“Well, I saw him, yes, but I didn’t really see him do anything-”
“What did you see him do.”
Out came the knife again, pointed directly at the bird’s throat. 
“S-sorry, I think we got off on the wrong foot,” they simpered. “M-my name's Steph, what’s yours-ow!”
Ciarán pushed in a bit - not enough to draw blood, but enough for ‘Steph’ to get the point.
“Answer.”
“...I think he was having sex with th-that lion paladin… it s-sounded like him, they were-”
“He was WHAT?!” Ciarán practically shouted, squeezing his knife so hard it shattered in his hand. The thought of that lion seducing his love made his blood boil. He would not let that stand. His eyes gleamed an icy blue as he snarled, cold mist pouring from between his teeth.
“Bring me to them. NOW.”
“S-sure, right away, I’ll-”

If I may have everyone’s attention please!

The voice of the cleric paused them in their tracks. The snivelling bird remained completely still, terrified of what Ciarán might do to him. As he should be.

We are approaching midnight, which means it is almost time for the re-chambering of the Heart! Please make your way back to the main square, and I will lead you into the inner chapel! Th-this is Brother Sapphire, saying…. I very much look forward to seeing you!

“.... I’d say they’ll both be heading there too, right?” Steph said, smiling nervously. 
Ciarán let his anger settle, containing it within himself and breathing slowly.
“You’re staying with me. Try to run, or say a word to anyone…” he pushed the knife point in, just shy of the point where he would pierce the skin and draw a drop of blood.
“I g-get the message,” Steph gulped.

–

Sapphire started breathing again. 
He felt like he was breathing into a tin can, thanks to the mask and visor covering most of his face. The thump-thump of his heart felt just as bone-shakingly intense as the thrum of the intricately latticed crystal before him. Each time it pulsed, golden, sparkling nectar flowed through the little thin chambers, like blood did through a heart of flesh and blood.
The room was impossibly bright thanks to its golden glow. There were no ornamentations or decorations on the walls of the chapel. No paintings, or frescoes, or stained glass. Anything they added to the chapel would pale in comparison to the Eternal Heart. It overshadowed and overwhelmed everything around it. Even though the ritual had not started properly, Sapphire could feel its coaxing pull. The mask had a brazier-like horn jutting out from its forehead, and soon the Eternal Heart would bestow some of its gift to him through that horn.

And yet, the Eternal Heart looked so fragile and frail, though he knew full well it was ancient, and nigh-on indestructible.  It would be impossible for a little mortal like Sapphire to do any damage to it. 
Still, it was his first time. Being nervous was natural. He tried to pretend that Veridis was there, his paw on his shoulder, his reassuring voice in his head. 
The other acolytes around him were silent, as was the tradition for the Re-Chambering. They gave reassuring little smiles underneath hooded masks, which helped his nerves if only slightly. He scanned them to find the lower half of the lion’s face. No sign of him. Maybe he was with the guests.
Space had been cleared for the pilgrims amidst the many votaries, and he could hear them approaching slowly. Another devotee was sharply reminding them all to put on the masks and keep them on “Unless you want your eyeballs to be cooked”. 
It wasn’t Brother Veridis. 
As everyone filed into the room and were guided to their places (subtly painted divots on the floor that ensured everyone was perfectly, equally spaced), Sapphire kept scanning. It’d be so much easier to know that brother Veridis was here. He probably was, but Sapphire wanted to know for sure.

Something else occurred to Sapphire. He couldn’t see that snake from before, either. He would have spotted that silhouette a mile away. And there were two conspicuously empty spaces in the chapel. 
A thought leapt into his mind, and he swore the Eternal Heart briefly dimmed. A trick of his mind, or the light. He had to get started.
He raised his hands outward. Other acolytes at the edge of the room softly drummed their fingers on well stretched leather, creating a heartbeat pace that stayed in harmony with the holy heart. When the drumming began, he reached out and laid his hands on the Eternal Heart. The temperature surprised him. It was warm like a freshly baked loaf of bread, and similarly soft. That meant he was in the right emotional state - if he was too agitated, the Heart would have been significantly hotter to the touch. 
“We gather here,” Sapphire began, “To ask your blessing, Araeth. Once more we make the humblest request, for the rush of blood, the warm embrace, that keeps us free from weariness and want.”
He could feel it as he continued. The warm lump in his throat. The first tendril of light emanating from one of the many thin veins, coming directly towards the brazier on his mask. As the leader of the ritual, he was the first to receive the gift…
“And with your touch, we make ourselves anew. Our hearts and souls, they thank you for this gift…”

A sudden flash of light made his eyes sting as the mask was forcibly removed from his face.
Sapphire’s face suddenly felt warm. Something was pushing past his lips. The next thing he noticed was a familiar smell, more intense than normal. 
Brother Veridis’ scent and taste overwhelmed him, and he felt his arousal leap to attention.
The Crystal Heart suddenly felt hot, then cold, then - 
There was a crack, like the shattering of a pot, or a bolt of lightning, or the report of a rifle, or all three at once. What came next happened in the space of seconds, too quick to react to.

–

Just when Steph was wondering if he was supposed to feel anything, was knocked off his feet by the magically augmented freight-train speed of the armoured cat. Shouts of shock and commotion filled the room. As Steph’s vision swam, he looked up just in time to see that lion paladin reach the heart. He tore off the mask from the confused, befuddled cat’s face, and kissed him. 
The cleric gripped the artifact tighter as his knees buckled and he moaned with palpable pleasure. It would have almost been sweet, if not for the timing.
The heart glowed brighter all of a sudden, gleaming like a hot iron and pouring golden steam into the air. 
“Do it!” he heard a shout from just behind him. Another being rushed past him. It was the wolf - Ciarán, was it? He raised his red paws towards the gem, and an intense chill blasted forth from his fingertips and wreathed the gem. The sudden change from very hot to very cold made the Heart vibrate, expand, contract, then shatter apart.
Steph was expecting to be obliterated. But there was no shockwave, no bang. The pieces of the heart simply fell and tinkled to the ground. The cleric let go of the gems and tried to pull away from the lion.
“Nuh… no…!” he cried out, gasping for breath like he was drowning. 
Steph laughed and clapped with delight. 
“What a show!” he exclaimed. “This is exciting, isn’t it?”
He looked at the faces of his fellow pilgrims, and the acolytes, while they were still visible in the dimming light. Everyone’s jaws were wide open, with awe, and horror.
“...wait, is this not supposed to happen?”
“Not in the sslightest.”

Steph felt a hand tickle his tail feathers and grab his ass. He chirped and gasped, feeling the finger slide along the cleft of his rump tantalisingly. The cobra continued his slow journey along, putting an arm around Ciarán and taking him forward.
Steph was already mesmerised by the snake, and could not take his eyes off what would happen next.
It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

–

“You did perfect, Treat,” Sal’yashe cooed into Ciarán’s ear. 
Ciarán’s heart soared.
“Thank you, Sal’yashe,” he said, looking towards the altar and the shattered pieces. Everyone was cowering in fear, their eyes glued to the shattered pieces of now-dim crystal. The room was silent, save for the sounds of lips smacking as the lion paladin disrobed the smaller cleric.
“What did you do to him?” Ciarán asked.
“Never you mind,” Sal’yashe said. “Firssst, we rebuild thisss Heart. Would you mind providing me with cover?”
“Absolutely.” After his display of power, Ciarán was sure no one would try to fuck with him. Sal’yashe’s voiced turned low and mellifluous - more so than usual, anyway - and he chanted something soft and musical, yet guttural and primal. He stole the odd glance over his shoulder. 
The pieces of the heart were lifting off the ground as Sal’yashe’s voice grew louder and more forceful. Another voice was layered behind it - a voice like wind through a golden flute. 
The colourless crystal took on a new shade. A pearlescent sapphire, like Sal’yashe’s scales, and yet even more bright and beautiful.

The crystal pieces came back together, but in a new shape entirely. Vaguely heart shaped, but more voluminous and thick. As Ciarán glanced over his shoulder, he suddenly found himself rooted to the spot as it slowly spun.
Instead of a heart, the artifact now looked like a de-limbed torso, thick, voluptuous and fertile. Breasts, a shapely rump, and an erect shaft. As he stared into its shimmer and sheen, his cock leapt to attention as well.
Faintly, distantly, past the re-formed ‘heart’, he could see the two cats were also staring blankly, their eyes gleaming and swirling with ripples of shimmering silver. The flames that graced their bodies changed colour, going from their golden glow to a blue-pink shimmer. 
The cats were still rutting - the cleric’s shoulders were pushed against the wall behind, his thighs up over the lion’s shoulders as he plunged into him. Veridis had lifted one of his arms up higher, letting Sapphire bury his nose into his pit and lick with a desperate frenzy.

Moans filled the room, and Ciarán tried to tear his gaze away to see - he only caught glimpses of robes being thrown off, of nude, aroused bodies starting to twist and writhe in shared pleasure.
But his gaze returned to that arousing crystal and its glow.
“Come now,” Sal’yashe cooed to him. “Join me in the ritual.”
“Yes…” Ciarán gasped, desperate once again for Sal’yashe’s touch. As the tail wrapped around his thigh and hooked in between his legs, the wolf listened happily and dutifully to the new mantra of this ritual. 

–

“Rejoicsse, and be reborn in carnal bliss,
“And give yourself to Lady Verenestra.
“Your body and your essence is now hers,
“Your heart now fills with lust, o sweetest lust,
“And bow before the Eternal Whore’s aura.”

A pulse of energy radiated from it, coaxing a chorus of intense moans from the now building mount of orgiastic flesh. The sunlight was gone, replaced with a corruptive aurora. Ciarán came on the spot, the first of what would be many climaxes that night.
Somehow, one was left out, simply staring and stroking at the new idol. That bird of paradise from before. Poor thing. Sal’yashe beckoned, and swirly-eyed Steph approached with a sleepy nod. He stepped over the crowds of people, and approached the throne.
“Sal’yashe…?” Ciarán asked softly. 
“Hush, now,” Sal’yashe cooed, pushing his fingers into the wolf’s open mouth to silence him. He had new playthings to enjoy - and so many of them, too…
He poured his own hypnotic influence into the bird’s eyes, supplanting the silver rings with his own blue and pink.
“You don’t mind, do you?” Sal’yashe spoke.
“Unh…?” Steph moaned softly, a smile creeping along the corners of his beak.
“Oh, no, not you. Come along, Treat.”
“Yes…”

“Of course, my dearest worm. Well done, well done.”

As he slowly worked his way around the altar, he admired his lady’s craftwork. The torso gently revolved in the air, its cock sticking out, its ‘nipples’ equally engorged. The only remnant of the heart’s original form was the shapely curve of its rump. Verenestra really knew how to drive mortals wild…
Speaking of which.
With his tail around Ciarán’s throat, and his hand stroking Steph’s chin, Sal’yashe guided them towards the back wall, where Brother Veridis was still thrusting into Brother Sapphire’s needy hole. Seed was already dripping and drizzling out from it. He slithered in behind, turning the lion’s gaze away from the Eternal Whore and to his.
“Room for three more?” he asked, his free hand moving down to push his hips back. “Allow sssome of the othersss to have a turn with the poor boy.”
“Rrrgh…” Veridis was drooling, hungry. His eyes glowed with a pink and blue swirl. “Wanna… fuck…”
“Well, then. Steph, was it?” Sal’yashe snapped his fingers, and the lion shot to stiff attention. Then, he pushed the bird forward to peck his beak into Brother Veridis’ pit. The arousing cologne made him quiver and chirp. “Why don’t you give him what he wants?”
“Yes…” Steph agreed. 
“And you, dearest puppy,” Sal’yashe said to Ciarán - would you like to have the sssecond turn with the Cleric? I believe you’ve earned it.”
“Yes…” Ciarán nodded slowly, his eyes fixated on Sapphire’s throbbing, needy hole. He approached and gripped tightly, his cold paws making the cat yelp and mewl with surprise. Meanwhile, Steph nuzzled his way along the lion’s statue-stiff body, his downy hands roving and rubbing wherever they could. 
Sal’yashe watched the faces of the four. He’d done a wonderful job pairing them off, if he did say so himself. As Sapphire was fucked against the wall by a desperate-to-impress Ciarán, he kept stealing jealous glances at Steph, enjoying Veridis’ taste and scent. Sal’yashe could tell that Steph was being ruined too. The poor bird would be so terribly torn between his attraction for the lion and his love for his Master. Sal’yashe swept his gaze along the tangle of bodies, the scent of sex building in the air and suffusing the room just as strongly as the Eternal Whore’s light. 
But his gaze kept coming back to those four, and he decided to curl himself around them. His arms spooned Ciaran’s back, his tail slithering upwards to drape over Sapphire’s shoulders and back around. They wound up Steph’s body, back down Veridis’, and rested the spiny tail just in between the paladin’s rump-cheeks. By then, Steph had impaled himself on Veridis’ cock, and Ciarán had pumped his first load into Sapphire’s body. 
“We’ll ssswap very shortly,” Sal’yashe said breezily. I feel our dear paladin and our dear cleric need a little more time together. And Ciarán~”
“Yes, Sal’yashe?” Ciarán whimpered.
“What do you think of the bird here, Steph?”“They’re… so annoying…”
“Well, all the more reason for the two of you to pound it out.” that annoyance would turn to arousal very quickly once their tongues intertwined and their cocks rubbed against each other. And as Sal’yashe watched the lion grasp the black cat’s thighs and suck him off, he began to idly fantasise how he could further weaponise their intense desire for each other. How he could break their poor hearts.

–

The golden lights faded from around Araeth’s monastery before long. The eternal daylight came to an end, as Araeth lost and ceded his power over the place. The corruptive aura of the newly-formed artifact changed the endless day to an endless, blue-tinted dusk. Pilgrims would still come, and they would come and come until they left a quivering, lovesick mess, proclaiming their praise of a beautiful Fey. 
The corruption of the Eternal Heart sent shockwaves of fear through each and every devotee of each and every minor god. Attempts and expeditions have been made to re-claim and purify the relic once again.
As of yet, none have been successful. The temple is assumed lost, now under the control of an Archfey. 

ARAETH
Ill-met, O dearest lady. Have you come
To gloat, and crow, and proclaim victory?
You, fey, are naught but a petulant child.
My followers persist. You will not take
The rest of them so easily. My Heart-

VERENESTRA
My Whore, you mean. 

ARAETH
Be as that may - it still
Will one day be returned to its true form.

VERENESTRA
It can be done, beloved god of mine.
All you must do is love me, without shame.
Let our hearts, our souls, our lips entwine.
Then I will cleanse the Heart, and clean your name.
ARAETH
I believe no love in your heart does lie,
But plenty venal cruelty in its place.
If you would win my love, you needs must ply
Me with warmth, not by leaving my men debased.

VERENESTRA
Is it gifts you want? Well then, that can be done.
I know just what would fill your heart with joy.
Some gold and jewels and baubles, I recall,
That Theobard the Third had of your temple.

ARAETH
Indeed, a heavy, unavoidable tithe.
But I do know his greed lead to a brutal end.

VERENESTRA
And the crown jewels vanish’d, stolen away, ‘tis said.
But I may know just how to find it. 
And when I deliver it to you, Araeth, love,
Will you finally show me what I do desire?

ARAETH
High promises from you again, Arch-Fey.
I will not promise you my love. But this
May allow me to forgive your last trespass.

VERENESTRA
Well, then, ‘tis settled. Consider the crown jewels yours.
All yours, again, then I’ll be yours as well.

Now, I shall nudge my little worm towards
The right brigand to put under my spell.

Part II. The Crown Jewels

As Sal’yashe’s scales crossed the threshold of the bank, he sighed with relief. Going from scraping against brick to gliding along well polished marble was a simple pleasure that those with legs would never experience. It was so well polished he could see his own handsome face in the floor, daubed with a massive crest of the royal family who used to control this very city.
Looking up, Sal’yashe was reminded of a cathedral by the bank’s high sloped ceiling that made every voice and sound carry and reverberate into its rafters. The Central Bank was every bit as opulent as he was expecting 

This would be a fantastic base, he thought to himself. It’s practically a palace. I’d love to take this place over…

Perhaps you will one day, my little worm.
Perhaps you’ll find the right mind to seduce,
Perhaps they’ll have the keys to this fine place.

Thank you, Ma’am, I’ll keep that in mind.

For now, he was here for a completely mundane purpose - opening an account. It was good to have a little place to squirrel away ‘donations’ from his lovers and followers. Lavishing him with expensive gifts was all well and good - not to mention it amused Verenestra to see them throw away their life savings for useless golden trinkets - but he did need to eat too. Having some money set aside for new cooking implements and the like would be nice. After all, cooking sumptuous meals was about the only thing Sal’yashe gave back to his thralls in what was otherwise a very one-sided relationship.

He definitely drew a few curious eyes, both with his blue scales, and his golden accoutrements, and the easy, languid sway of his hips and his coils. Several lines stretched out towards a long phalanx of wooden desks with glass coverings, busy employees seeing to many besuited individuals who looked to be ready to sneer or complain on a moment’s notice.
After five minutes of immobility in the line passed, Sal’yashe considered pushing forward and using his charisma (both natural and borrowed) to move ahead. He had places to be.
“You’re Sal’yashe, right?”
A silky voice made Sal’yashe’s head turn behind him. 
The black poodle was clad head to toe in equally black clothing, tight and form-fitting. Dark glasses covered their eyes, drawing further attention to the bright gold of their nose, their lips, and their claws. They were smiling at him, with a smile that Sal’yashe knew well - it was one he practised in the mirror quite often.
“What brings a scoundrel like you to a place like this?”
“I don’t get into the habit of sharing my business with ssstrangers.” Sal’yashe looked the dog up and down. “Unlesss they’re attractive onesss…”

“Hmmhmm.” the poodle smiled back, brushing their shaggy hair back and lowering their dark glasses. Their eyes were as golden as the rest of their visible flesh. “I couldn’t help but notice you, you’re very easy to spot. Be mindful of the guards. They may try to accost you, and it’s probably going to be a bit much for even you to deal with. Meet me outside, though… we should talk.”
“And who might you be? A bounty hunter? Sssome lawman I’ve not heard of?”
“Arno’s the name. But maybe you know my stage name. The Golden Mask.”
With that, the poodle turned and let the click of their heeled boots add to the chorus of sound. 
As the realisation dawned on him, Sal’yashe noticed that several of his bangles, as well as the belt just where his ‘hips’ met his coils, were gone.
One of the finest thieves in the world had just propositioned him for work. Well, he was one of the finest con-artists in the world, and water did seek its level.

As Sal’yashe processed that, the line finally moved as an ornery, grumbling monkey slowly sauntered off.
Things moved faster from there ; It wasn’t long before he was in front of a teller, a stocky but very attractive hybrid - somewhat canine, somewhat feline - who smiled politely. Arcturus, going by the pin on their lapel.
“How may I help you, sir?”
“Oh, there are sssso many thingssss you can do for me.” Sal’yashe lidded his eyes and leaned in, letting some pink and blue rings float through them. “For example, those account feesss I read about. Could they be waived, jussst for your new friend?”
“I… don’t know if… ooh…” Arcturus’ mouth fell open, their eyebrows pushing towards their face as they tried to comprehend the pretty face in front of them. A blush came over them, their head dipping forward…
Sal’yashe blinked the colours away, and the teller lifted their head back up, whipping their head back and forth in a fleeting daze.
“Nnh… I’m sorry, sir, please forgive me. Yes, let me get your account set up right away.”
Pulling a long sheaf of paper out, they began the long process of signing Sal’yashe up - far too long winded and tedious to be worth recounting, aside from the brief moments where Sal’yashe pushed some hypnotic suggestions into Arcturus’ mind to remove any hesitation and keep things moving along smoothly.
By the end of the process, the poor thing was a nervous, lovestruck mess. One more heart for his collection. He flashed a fanged smile, and gave one last pulse of hypnotic colour to seal the deal.
“You’re an absssolute delight, thank you. I’ll make sssure I sssee you the nexssst time I’ve business here.”
“I-I’d love that, sir! H-have a wonderful day…” 
Sal’yashe could feel Arcturus’ longing eyes on the back of his head. They remained in the back of his mind as he went out to rendezvous with his thief.

Arno was waiting for Sal’yashe, idly swinging the golden belt to and fro. The dog threw it laconically to the snake and crossed their arms.
“I’ve got some business plans for this beautiful bank,” Arno said, cutting to the quick. “And I’d like you to be my partner in this endeavour. Want to know more?”
Sal’yashe could tell Arno was going to be a handful. But… it might solve his money problems for a while, for sure.
“Go on.”
“Not here,” Arno said. “I’ve got a flat pretty close by. It’s got a nice view. And plenty of privacy.”

Sal’yashe crooked an eyebrow.

–

Arno traced a golden claw along the schematics and sketches laid out on a long table. The pair were served drinks by a blue furred lion with a faraway golden look in his eyes. Arno groped him, said a little “Thank you, Rory,” and shooed him away. Sal’yashe nodded with a little approval. It was nice to see someone else putting hypnotic talents to use… perhaps they’d swap some tips later.

“Sssso. What’re we after, then?” 
Arno smiled. They had a speech prepared.
“Something very priceless is stored in the back rooms of the central bank, and only a small handful of people are privy to its location. A collection of gemstones ; the crown jewels of the last monarch, Theobard III. Shortly after the king’s rather violent removal from power, the revolutionaries stored it away, where it could not be used as a figurehead or a rallying cry for any attempted counter-coup by monarchists or ambitious would-be kings.
“But where to hide such a thing? In the most obvious place, of course. Practically in plain sight..
That’s not to say those jewels aren’t very well guarded indeed, with onion-skin layers of security every step of the way.

“But there’s a way in,” Arno continued with a smile. “I’ve got a few insiders who’re going to look the other way, or leave a key or two unattended.”
“That ssso?” Sal’yashe asked. “I assume you bribed them?”
“Hardly. They’ve been on my payroll for months. They’re already well compensated.”
“You’ve been planning thisss a while, hm?”
“Indeed I have, my friend.”
“Ssso why bring me into it? What’s made you decide to introducssse me to your plan lassst minute?”
“Simple. I know how good you are with crowd work. You can have a lot of eyes drawn to you while I get down to my business. And if things get messy, well… I’m sure you can fight.”
“Well… I’m more of a lover than a killer, but yesss.”
“Works for me. The less collateral, the better.”
“So, do you plan on becoming the nexssst ruler, is that it?” Sal’yashe asked.
“No!” Arno laughed lightly. “No, I’m quite happy with the current geopolitical situation. But those jewels are going to be worth a lot to some people with a hard-on for the monarchy and more money than sense. I’ll be fencing them all gradually, setting myself up for a very nice retirement. You can have a cut of that, or a jewel or two. Whatever works best. You could buy yourself a nice plot of land. Give your cult a forever-home.”
“It’sss not exactly a cult, but, not a bad idea.”
“Right, then!” Arno stood from the table and leaned into Sal’yashe’s space, proffering a golden-tipped paw. “Do we have a deal?”
Sal’yashe didn’t hesitate. He took their hand.
“I’m in.”

–

Being horny on the job only made time pass slower. Arcturus was counting down the seconds to their next break. They couldn’t contain themself. Their cock was always throbbing, their slit was always aching for something to fill it.
They still saw the snake behind their eyelids. That brief encounter left them desperate to see him again. When would he come by to make another deposit - money, or something else, maybe when he came by again they could sneak off somewhere. Just a quickie. Just to satisfy their appetite for him. What would that spiny purple tail feel like against their throat, or inside their sex, or wrapped around their cock… 
“...My money?”
Arcturus snapped back to reality. They slid the sheaf of papers to the other side of the magical ward to the irate looking old monkey. “So sorry sir, there you are.”
“You should be sorry! Standing there like a stale loaf of bread… and what’s this? These aren’t coins!”
“They’re bank notes, sir,” Arcturus said. One of these types. “They can be used to buy goods the same way any gold coins can. It’s a new-”
“I don’t want that!” the monkey interrupted, shrill and sharp. “I want actual, real coins, not this fake nonsense! Back in my day…”

Arcturus had already stopped listening.
There he was again. That snake was gliding along the shiny floors of the bank lobby, as beautiful as they remembered. Arcturus stared. They couldn’t think of looking at anything else. Why would they?
Sal’yashe saw them from across the lobby. Those eyes… piercing. Beautiful. A flash of pink and electric blue made them want to scream with pleasure. But they couldn’t, not yet.  The blue chusky(a cross between a cheetah and a husky; so they’d told him before) slowly rose. Sal’yashe stared, smiled, and crooked his hooded head up as if to beckon them over. 
Their break wasn’t for another hour.
But they didn’t care.

“Thank you, Sir, have a great day,” they said, stepping away from their booth and closing it up, leaving the old fart to keep the tirade going alone. They were taking a break right now, and no one was going to stop them. 

Sal’yashe was gliding towards them too, trying to meet them halfway. The chusky’s heart soared with desperate excitement as they neared the doorway leading to the employee area; and from there, a door leading into the main lobby. They didn’t care about the confused looks their purposeful walk was getting from their co-workers. They traced their finger along the sigil on the door. It chimed and opened, the password entered, just in time for Sal’yashe to approach. 
“There you are, my little Treat,” he said, and Arcturus melted into his embrace.
“I love you,” they mewled , trying to lean in for a kiss. A finger across their pursed muzzle stopped them.
“Not now, darling, not yet.” Sal’yashe said. “I was wondering if you could do a little sssomething for me.”
“Of course, anything for you…”
“Do you know where I might be able to ssspeak to sssomeone in charge of the sssecurity of this fine essstablishment?"
“Oh, of course!” Arcturus wanted nothing more than to please him. It didn’t matter what his reasoning was. “Come on, follow me…” 
They tugged him through the door, just before the ward re-activated and locked it in place.
Arcturus tugged him along with the excitement of a kitten who wanted to show off its first kill to its caretaker. 
“Goodnesss, ssslow down…” Sal’yashed laughed.
“Could I do anything else for you, please?” Arcturus lifted the hem of their long skirt, showing the bulge in their sheer tights. “Do you have a moment? P-please?”
“Later,” Sal’yashe said, a little coldly. “I’ve got sssomething I need to do first.”
“O-oh. Anyway…”

They came across the security office.
“In here,” Arcturus said. “What do you need to talk to them for?” 
“Don’t worry about that, little Treat.” Sal’yashe stroked their face, and kissed them at last.
The gentle flit of his thin tongue against Arcturus’ rough, textured feline one… they almost came on the spot.
“Ssstay right here.”
“Of course, anything f-for you….” They leaned against the wall and gasped desperately, watching as Sal’yashe slithered inside.
Arcturus heard some confused shouts inside, the sparking chime of a spell being cast… then a moan.
A moment later, a cold chill spread through the halls, the subtle constant hum of the enchantments suffusing the bank coming to an abrupt halt. 
…What had Sal’yashe just done?

–

For the first time since stepping foot through the doors, Kusa felt comfortable. 

He had been getting a lot of looks; whether it was due to the fact that he looked like a human (rare around these parts) or the ebony, melanistic sheen to his arms, legs and tail, he knew he stuck out like a sore thumb. Also, this bank was too bright. It made his body itch - being a being of shadow made getting around during the day a little bit of a nuisance.

When the lights abruptly went out, and confused screams and shouts filled the chamber, that discomfort faded. Not only did it mean that he was more in his element, but it also meant that his tip-off was correct. There was a heist in progress. 
He raced back towards the door, towards the checkpoint where his gold-tipped staff had been temporarily requisitioned. The confusion made it easy for him to melt into shadow, unnoticed, and retrieve it.
The next step was to use his darkness-attuned vision to spot who the culprits were. Sure enough, he could see some purposeful strides going away from the crush towards the front door. 
“No need to panic everyone!” a voice boomed above the crowd, magically enhanced. “Just sit tight, no one’s leaving until we finish up our business. Our ushers will let you know when it’s safe to leave.”
The ‘ushers’ were dressed to kill, in dark clothes and garishly golden waistcoats and masks. Some were guiding the doors. Others were dispelling the wards around the bank tellers’ booths and pointing nasty looking crossbows at their faces. 
Taking all of them out in the dark would be easy for Kusa. But finding the source of the voice was more important. The best thing to do would be to cut off the head of the serpent, so to speak. He sank into the floor and moved with careful, catlike speed. 
Sure enough, as the voice continued, he saw a tall canine, dressed the same as the others but with a golden half mask that seemed to be streaked with marble, as though it had been crying. The mask ended just at the end of the dog’s snout, letting their golden nose and their lips remain visible.

“Now, we’re just here to show you something very special, something that’s been sleeping here right under your noses! Think of it as a public exhibition, absolutely free! Though… voluntary donations will be very much appreciated.”
“Can’t find the cipher, boss!” someone called from behind in the booths.
“Keep looking!” The ringleader barked. “And would everyone mind clearing out from the centre of the room? We need to use that big, beautiful crest underneath your feet.”
The dog was very polite, but there was no reason to be forceful with the implicit threat of violence. They had to be dealt with, and fast.

Kusa slipped behind them, slowly emerging from the darkness. He aimed for the side of the torso, for a quick debilitating strike.
It connected with a resounding slap, and the ringleader grunted and veered to the side. Another strike to the head would send them to dreamland. 
As Kusa went for strike two, the dog wheeled around. While there was panic in their eyes, they quickly brought up a fist to block it with a shimmering, golden gauntlet. Their panic faded as they locked eyes with their attacker.

“Oh, fun!” they said with a toothy grin. “A vigilante! Lucky you, I have a bit of time before my next job in this little plan. So I can have a quick dance.”
Kusa weaved a whip of shadowy magic and lashed out again. The dog veered out of the way, their fine shoes clicking on the lacquered floor. 
“Kusa, right?” they crooked their head, hazarding a guess
“How do you know who I am?” Kusa asked, even as he continued the assault. He couldn’t get a bead on them.
“Oh, I know everyone,” the dog laughed. “I’ve gotta keep track of any would-be vigilantes. I hear you’re good!” they ducked and wove out of Kusa’s strikes, even as they backed away. “But I also hear you don’t like the light very much.”
“And you like the sound of your voice a lot,” Kusa shot back, just before tripping them up with a quick feint and sweep.
“Hoofh!” the dog fell back, still laughing. “True, true, I can get a bit carried away, a little bit of tunnel vision… but so can you.”

Before Kusa could react, a tail pulled his arms to his sides and rolled him around, to stare right into…
Just… what was he looking at?
And why did he feel so… strangely… happy…?
“Ssssorry to keep you, Arno,” the snake hissed, not even acknowledging Kusa even as he poured those charming colours into his eyes. Kusa squinted. They were so… bright… 
And beautiful.
“No, you’ve done beautifully, my friend!” Arno said, standing up. The dog’s snout came to Kusa’s ear, soft and sweet.
“Just sit tight and stare… you might actually be able to help us with this little job once you’ve been properly gotten up to speed.”
“Unh…?” Kusa’s head dipped forward. The dog’s breath and voice made him feel warm. Almost as warm as the snake did.
“Just have a little chat with Sal’yashe for now, and we’ll let you know when it’s time to go.”

“Yessss…” the snake crooned, his voice even more delicious and silky than the dog’s. “You shouldn’t resisssst. You’ve arrived a bit too late to ssstop usss anyway. Perhaps… I could convince you to join us…”
The pinks and blues were so breathtaking. Kusa almost wanted to give in. But his mind was made of stronger stuff.
As much as it pained some small part of him that wanted to submit… he could tell the snake’s focus was split thanks to the chaos all around them. He clenched his eyes shut, melted into shadow and escaped the coils before repositioning himself. 
Sal’yashe stared, confuses, and Kusa could practically see the bruises on his ego starting to form. Clearly he wasn’t used to people resisting him.

“Get away from him…!” a blue-furred clerk rushed at Kusa with a baton in their hand and tears in their eyes. Kusa didn’t particularly want to hurt the poor thing. He veered carefully out of the way, tripping them up and returning his attention to Sal’yashe.
“Hmm.” the snake seemed annoyed. “Ssso who’s your patron?”
“Not giving that away,” Kusa said, thumbing his nose and spinning his staff. He kept his head on a swivel - Arno seemed to be paying him no heed, going back to their own business. 
Sal’yashe sighed and pulled a long, thin, needle-like javelin out of what appeared to be thin air.
“I was hoping to avoid thisss,” he said, resignedly readying himself to strike.

–

Utahime couldn’t help herself. When the twin-tailed fox saw commotion, she had to check it out for herself. Her wooden geta clicked on the steps as she wove her way up towards the entrance to the bank. Guards were swarming and trying to keep anyone from entering, but the petite kitsune had no problem sliding right past them. 
“Ma’am,” one of them said, “You can’t go in-”
“I’ll go where I please, tin-man,” she said. The insult cut deeper than a normal dig would, and she heard the guard wince with pain. Laughing to herself, she carried on inside. Kicking in the door, she heard some yelps, the sounds of sprawling bodies and clattering crossbows. Her arms remained in the pockets of her pink kimono as she swaggered her way in.

“Now now, what’s goin’ on in here?” her voice carried, with the natural charisma of a born performer. She could hear sounds of a fight across the room. Scrapes and clatters. She could see blue scales and black fur, and tried to get a bead on the fighters.
While approaching, she got distracted by a familiar face. She could tell it was them from the silhouette, the mask, and the eyes.
It was an old colleague of hers from her thieving days!
“Arno~!” she said, arms outstretched. “Nice Mask! What’s your angle this time, ya slippery bastard?”
Even though Arno’s response was under their breath, it still carried.
“Oh, fuck, not her again…”

Utahime heard the chk-chk and fwwwip of crossbows being cocked and fired in her direction. Three bolts. Two were snatched between the fingers of her right paw, and the third was simply slapped out of the air as she slung her reinforced biwa back from over her shoulder. She snapped the remaining two bolts in two, taking the head of one of them, and began to strum. 
“Got a tune or two, just for you Arno m’buddy!”
“This is the WORST possible timing,” Arno said. “Sal’yashe!”
Utahime leaned a bit to look past Arno. Sal’yashe was probably that big long blue noodle, wrestling with a human - or, no, a neko - who kept fading in and out of the shadows. 
“I’m not finished yet!” The snake shouted. “You’ve got men, YOU deal with them!”
“You really aren’t living up to your reputation!” Arno was just as much of a snide little bitch as they always had been.
Utahime wasn’t going to give them any time to bark out any orders; she closed the distance with blinding speed, ducking underneath Arno’s fist, before playing a harsh power-chord that flung them off their feet with a puppy-dog yelp.
“Awww, you still do the noise~!” She said, grinning broadly. “I knew you wouldn’t change…”

Arno scrabbled back up (while cursing their high-heeled boots) and readed themself again. 
“I’d really love to have a proper catch-up,” Arno said, with the most acidic smile Utahime had ever seen. “But as you can see I’m in the middle of a job. You know the rules about professional interference…”
“Oh, I quit that life!” Utahime said with a shrug. “I’m something of a consultant nowadays~ and a good samaritan, when it’s needed.”
Arno looked legitimately shocked, and hurt. It tugged at Utahime’s heart for a moment. But she shook it away, and started to strum once again. A protective aura encircled her - as well as the shadowy kittyboy.
“Boys!” Arno shouted with no small hint of rage. “Keep working on finding that cipher!”
Arno was angry. That was dangerous. They were a lot less sloppy when they were angry. Utahime was able to weave out of the way of their fists and feet, but only just barely. Arno’s face was grimly set and focused. She tried to keep up her playful facade.

Meanwhile, out of the corner of her eye, she could see the neko was weaving around the snake with virtuosic speed and skill. Sal’yashe didn’t seem like a very skilled fighter; his bulky coils were getting in the way, no matter how agile he was. She returned her attention to her battle with Arno. The sooner she wrapped this up, the sooner she could finish up with -

She took another glance. 

–

Kusa had tried. He really had. But Sal’yashe’s eyes flashed every so often, with a blink-and-you’ll-miss it speed that gave him no time to react. It wasn’t enough to do more than daze him. But each new flash of colour built on the last one, and the one before that, and he could feel the weight of his head, and his muscles… even when he melted into shadow, he felt as though his consistency was growing thicker and thicker.
He’d been lulled into a false sense of superiority by the cobra’s clumsy skills, but hadn’t noticed the little pulses of colour until he was really noticing them. By then, Sal’yashe was testing the waters with longer pulses, ones that made Kusa’s legs wobble and threw him off balance when he moved in to attack.
Eventually, Sal’yashe moved in for the kill as Kusa attempted one last desperate teleport behind him. The snake grabbed the neko by the throat and held him in place, pouring bliss into his mind. The kitsune’s music was helping to ward off the brunt of that magical power… but it was like staring at the sun with dark glasses. It protected a bit, but staring too long was still dangerous.
“Nnnhn…” Kusa choked, trying and failing to pull that surprisingly strong hand free. 
“That’sss enough of that, darling.” Sal’yashe cooed. “You’ve fought long enough. It’sss time for you to give in and resssst.”
“R…rest…?” Kusa had to respond. He couldn’t stop it. It was refreshing and relieving to admit it, as well. If he kept it up…
“Nooo!”
The voice of that teller gave Kusa pause, the familiar footfalls rushing towards him from behind. Sal’yashe’s gaze snapped over Kusa’s shoulders, his eyes pulsing faster, more angrily.
“STOP.” he commanded. Kusa faintly heard something metallic clatter on the floor, before the eyes re drew his focus and made him forget the disturbance entirely.
Sal’yashe was talking, but not to him. Some chiding words. His voice still sounded nice…

–

“I have this handled,” the snake hissed, angrily. 
Arcturus felt like they might cry. Had they done something wrong? They only wanted to help their love fight back against that awful cat…
“Is there something else I can do…?” the cheetah-husky asked, desperately.
“Do you happen to know where the ssscipher for the sssecret vault is? Because if not, then you can ssstand back and ssstay out of the way.”
They didn’t know. They didn’t even know there was a vault, let alone a cipher for it.
Arcturus sniffled, their ears dipping low. Sal’yashe wouldn’t even look at them. His gorgeous eyes were still focused on that attacker… he didn’t deserve them.
They looked at the other duel in progress, the black poodle nimbly dancing and boxing at the orange kitsune, who was weaving out of the way of those strikes. 
They grabbed the bar from the ground and crept forward. Here was their chance to help.
The Kitsune was on the back foot, and glanced towards Sal’yashe… and Arcturus swung.

–

“Whoa… pretty lights…” Utahime’s eyes spun as she stumbled on the spot, seeing stars as a little lump formed on the top of her head. Her tongue was lolling out as she dizzily strummed some discordant notes from her instrument. 
“Thaank you… and g’night~!” she fell forward. Arno’s chivalrous nature took precedent. They swooped in and caught her - and her instrument - before they hit the floor.
“Oohoohoo~!” Utahime giggled, eyes still twirling this way and that. “If ya wanna dance with me, Arnooo, you gotta gimme a kissy~”
She puckered her lips and Arno pulled their head away from them. They weren’t sure if she was concussed, but didn’t want to take that chance. Their free hand fished out a healing salve from a small hidden pocket, and they massaged the anise-scented oil into her scalp as they looked up at the other attacker.
It was a teller. Judging from the blue and pink pulses in their eyes, they were one of Sal’yashe’s insiders. Or side pieces. Probably both. 

“Here, gimme a hand with this,” they said as they scooped Utahime up. “Let’s bring her over to my companion. He’ll be able to help out.”
“You mean my love…?” the teller asked, quickly.
“Yyyes…” Arno quickly glanced at the nametag. “...Arcturus.”
“But…”
“Just do what I say, m'kay?” They handed the chusky Utahime’s instrument. “Thank you.” 
Were all of Sal’yashe’s pets this annoyingly lovey-dovey?

As they dragged Utahime to her feet and guided her towards Sal’yashe, Arno saw that the work was nearly done. Sal’yashe’s violet-tipped tail pulled tight around the neko’s throat, making his eyes and cheeks bulge, just before the snake surged his head forward and enclosed his hood around him. The legs buckled inwards and quivered, their fingers twitched… then went ramrod straight. When Sal’yashe pulled back, licking his lips, Kusa was staring into space with wide, spinning eyes and a big smile. Not a thought left in that head.

Arno felt a little smidgen of envy. Odd.
“How much more of that do you have in you, buddy?” Arno asked. “Got one last problem child to deal with.
“Hmm… perhaps I could manage that, yesss.” Sal’yashe set Kusa down. “Asssissst your fellow Treatsss with their sssearch, would you?”
Kusa nodded quietly and sleepwalked off.
“Thanks,” Arno said. “Wait, why did you say Treats-”

The next thing Arno knew, they were sailing through the air. By the time they were upside down, they copped that they’d just been judo-thrown over Utahime’s shoulder. A quick twist ensured they’d land on their feet, before they moved in from behind the kitsune. She was making a break for Sal’yashe, preparing a sledge-hammer blow to his stomach by the looks of it. But Sal’yashe’s eyes were already flashing, and her dash petered out into a slow walk towards him.
“Unnhn…?” she groaned. “What’s…”
“Hussssh now~” Sal’yashe cooed. Fuck, he had such a cute voice. Arno slipped in behind to hold Utahime in place, just so she didn’t try anything funny again. She was limp and soft like a ragdoll in their paws. 
“That’s right, old friend,” Arno added, their golden tongue and lips at her ear. “This is my associate. And he’s very good at making dreams come true. Mine… and yours. Once you realise that your dream is to submit to someone like him…”
“Couldn’t have sssaid it better myssself,” Sal’yashe said.

Arno looked up at him, into those swirling eyes. It was a good thing they had a clear, strong mind; the snake’s hypnotism had absolutely no effect on them. 
Still, they were easy on the eyes. Arno could see the appeal. They kept looking.
“Unh…?” from the confused groans and the way she was shifting, it seemed like Utahime was into it. As Sal’yashe’s tail curled around her thighs and up her body, it brushed against Arno’s leg as well. It reminded Arno of when they’d been intimate that morning, a little bit before the heist. A pre-game quickie. They’d have to see if he wanted a post-game fling as well.
They were already picturing it a little, in their mind’s eye, exploring his scaly lengths and tasting his mouth, and…
Later.

Utahime’s eyes were fluttering, the pulsating rings bright in her eyes now. 
“This… shouldn’t… work…” Utahime protested, unable to stop herself from giggling. Sal’yashe grinned wickedly.
“No one can resisssst,” Sal’yashe cooed. “Don’t feel embarrassed. There’sss no shame in admitting that you’ve lossst ssso easily…”
His tail slipped up her robes, and she gasped and arched against it. 
“Sssee? Wet already. Good. You’ll make a nicssse pet.”
“Hmh, I was thinking I could use her…”
“Don’t worry about that, Arno. Why don’t you let me know when the path is open.”
“Sure thing.” Arno had no problem with that. They turned and marched off with purpose, a pep in their step and a tingle in their eyes.
“All right, how are we doing, friends?”

–

Arcturus was feeling so spurned right now. 
It wasn’t fair - how come the fox was getting to feel Sal’yashe’s tail between her legs, and the they weren’t?! They’d been wondering how that textured tail would feel against their own slit since first laying eyes on it, and felt so betrayed that she was jumping the queue.
“Come here,” Sal’yashe said, gently beckoning. “There’s sssspace for you, too.”
As Arcturus got within arm’s range, Sal’yashe slipped their hand down their uniform. Tracing along the base of their cock before reaching the slit just underneath. 
The touch was like hot lightning; everything they hoped it would be. They tried to stare into Sal’yashe’s eyes alongside the fox. 
“So… pretty…” the kitsune babbled.
“Right…?” Arcturus agreed, leaning against her as the two stared. Sal’yashe’s eyes were focusing their majesty upon the fox, but Arcturus could focus on the shimmering patterns on the inside of Sal’yashe’s flared hood. They’d seen the filigree mirror shapes before in some book on the fey. But the way the shapes shimmered like sunlight on a lake was far more beautiful than any still image could have created. Arcturus was more than happy to gaze into them. Sal’yashe welcomed them into his muscular embrace.
“Arcturus, this is Utahime.” Sal’yashe said. “You and here are going to make for wonderful petsss… just like the ressst of them.”
“Okay…” Utahime giggled like a vapid child. Arcturus giggled too.
“Hiiii Utahime~” Arcturus gurgled. 
“I’ll make sssure you two get well acquainted,” Sal’yashe bore his lascivious fangs. “We’ve plenty of time for that, I believe…”

–

Kusa walked slowly. His heart was beating pink and blue. He tasted Sal’yashe’s lips on his, still savouring the flavour and counting down the seconds till the next time he could taste them. His gold masked partners were tearing the space behind the counters up, parchment and lockboxes flying every which way. A pink-eyed rat looked up at him and waved him over. 
“We’re lookin’ for that cipher! If you see a little doodad that looks like a telescope, or a ball, or… it might be a piece of paper too.”
With his shimmering, hypnosis induced clarity, Kusa pointed up towards the round window just overhead, covered with dancing, curling lattices of wrought iron.
“Or it’s the window above…”
“What?” The rat scoffed.

It would be easier to demonstrate.
A strangely ironic thing about controlling shadows is that, in a sense, one can also control the light. Kusa had a hunch, having inferred the basics. The vault was under the sigil on the bank’s floor. The light had to hit it a particular way to reveal the way in; a little bit of massaging things with the natural shadows around the window should reveal the path.
It was as natural as breathing. Kusa raised a lazy hand up and brushed the shadows inwards around the rim of the window like he was dusting it. It encroached into the window proper, covering the panels of glass. Kusa played around, covering this panel and that.
He soon noticed that some of the panels were very slightly tinted - stained to be just a tiny bit more than opaque. 
As he worked and gradually feeled out the rest of the cipher, he felt a presence close behind him.
“You are magnificent, Kusa.” it was the poodle.
“Definitely gonna have you join my merry band once we’re done here.”
“But I belong to Sal’yashe…” Kusa said. It was not even a question.
“Oh, sure, you think that.” Arno chuckled, . “But this little charm he’s put on you’ll be gone in an hour or two, and then I can make ya a proper job offer.”
“Hmm.” how could money compare to Sal’yashe’s beautiful eyes? He brushed it off and went back to the task at hand.
Soon, he found the hidden image- it turned out the shapes and spirals of wrought iron weren’t random at all. Hidden in them was a bull’s head, in profile, decapitated. A little hidden remembrance of Theobard III, post-execution. 
“There. THERE!” Arno said. “Hop to it!”
Kusa followed the rushing hoodlums out to the main plaza of the bank. Commotion was building outside by the sounds of it; it wouldn’t be long before the full might of the guards were on them. He couldn’t bear the thought of his beloved going to prison… they had to hurry!

–

Arno guided their men quickly, telling this one to stand there and that one to put his hands over there. They rolled up their sleeve to check the watch hidden beneath. They had a bit of time still, thankfully, as long as the head of the Guards held up his end of their little monetary arrangement. 
Still, their heart was racing. This was it. This would catapult them further up the echelons of the underworld. More men would join him, more resources could be devoted to future, more elaborate heists… 

Their train of thought was interrupted by the floor shifting beneath them. 
“Whoa…” they pulled back, as did the rest of their crew. The middle of the crest on the floor pushed downwards until a resounding click filled the chamber. The round centre split open, and then another piece of the crest, and then another, the marble panels unfolding like the petals of a flower. 
And there it was. No more security measures were in place. A short staircase lead right down to a small chamber.  In the middle of the chamber, in a glass box, resting on a pillow… all the crown jewels were there, ripe for the taking, glittering with a golden hue that almost matched the hue of Arno’s flesh. 
“Yes…” Arno could have cried.  Immediately, Arno thought about commissioning an artist to paint them in these liveries; even if they were going to get fenced and split off, Arno felt entitled to that at least.
Arno paused at the edge of the first step leading down to that little viewing space. Everyone else was waiting for them to make the first step, but they didn’t want to go too quick,
“Well, Sal’yashe?” they looked over their shoulder. “You finished with your toys?”
“Not quite.”
“Alright then,” Arno said with a shrug, taking their first step. They’d let the sex crazed snake have their - 
“Ssstay, puppy.”

Arno froze mid stride. Their cock suddenly leapt to attention - or had it been hard for a while? Their vision pulsed and swam. They felt strange, stiff, and… dizzy…
Memories rushed back into their mind. Pink and Blue ones. Sapphire and Silver ones.
They remembered….
No. 
These memories were false. They had to be. They hadn’t been hypnotised. Of course they hadn’t. Perish the thought.
“Nice try,” Arno said confidently. They weren’t  frozen. They weren’t aroused. They were choosing tos tay still.  “But I’ll wait.”
“Treatsss, would you please sssee to it that our essscape is clear?”
“Yes, Sal’yashe,” came a chorus of pleasured moans. From all of Arno’s crew.
“What the fuck?!” Arno said. “Wait! No! I give the orders!”
“Quiet, puppy.”

Arno’s next bark stopped in his throat. They choked on it. It tasted… sort of nice.
They waited quietly until Sal’yashe’s hands were on their shoulders, guiding them down the steps.
“With each step,” Sal’yashe purred. “You remember a little more. You remember your placssse. You remember who’s in charge. You remember who all thissss is for. Don’t you?”
“Nngh…” Arno tried to bite down the ‘yes’ in their mouth, to keep it in. But it slipped free. They looked over their shoulder at Sal’yashe and leaned against him like he was their partner in a slow erotic dance. 
Sal’yashe really was beautiful. His eyes. His voice. His scales. 
Arno was beginning to understand why so many were so infatuated with him.
They were falling too.
They had already fallen.
Even when they stood in front of the gaudy, golden trinkets, Arno kept staring at Sal’yashe. He was far more beautiful.
“I think we have a little bit of time, don’t we?” Sal’yashe asked. “Why don’t you dresss me up in these jewelsss… I’ll reward you if you do.”
A groping hand against Arno’s firm cock made it abundantly clear what the snake meant.
“Yes, Sal’yashe…” Arno said, staring deep into the now-swirling eyes. The hood enclosed them and they whimpered like a puppy - the puppy they knew they always were.
They’d been under Sal’yashe’s spell from the very beginning. They’d been played. But Arno was past the point of being ashamed or angry or betrayed.
When the hood pulled back, Arno got to work. A long golden claw slowly slit the glass open. There were no alarms, at least no evident ones. Not that there was anything left to stop their escape. But still, Arno lingered.

First, the heavy chains and necklaces of gold. As Arno lifted them over Sal’yashe’s head, they noticed the chusky, the neko, and the kitsune were joining him. All of them were smiling - Arcturus’ was loving, Kusa’s was serene, and Utahime’s was stiff and wide-eyed. They all were as helplessly aroused as Arno, too, from their flushed faces and the bulges between Arcturus’ and Kusa’s legs.
“You don’t mind them joining.” Sal’yashe said, more of a statement than a question.
“No…” Arno nodded as they handed the snake an emerald-encrusted mace.
“After all, I need a proper retinue, and these new treatsss of mine will do nicely.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Arno said happily as they placed the crown on Sal’yashe’s head. All that was left was the silky velvet cape, and once that was tied around the snake’s shoulders, he looked absolutely resplendent.
“Do we have time…?” Sal’yashe asked. “Yessss, I think we do.”
“Time for what?” Arno asked his love.
“Kneel.” Sal’yashe’s eyes flashed as he held the mace - his mace - towards the four. They dropped to their knees and bowed, genuflecting happily before their master - their monarch. Their love. 
“You will defend me with your livesss as we escape,” Sal’yashe said, giving each of them a gentle, snide love-tap with the regal mace as his coils wound around them, soft and smooth and muscular. 
“And you will love me, as long as I have need of you. The resst of that sssquad of yours, Arno… they can do as they please. But you four… I’m keeping you. You’re almossst as valuable to me as these jewelsss…”
“Thank you, Sal’yashe,” the four moaned. A small cynical part of Arno knew that Sal’yashe was lying.
But they didn’t care. It just made things hotter.
Arno stole a little glance at their fellow lovers. No jealousy remained on their faces. They were all happy to serve together. As they were. 

–

The crown jewels of Theobard III were never seen again. Attempts to reclaim them by the Revolutionaries proved to be fruitless; even amongst art collectors and other nearby minor royalty. The search was eventually given up.
The Golden Mask disappeared for a time, too - though the carrier of the mantle did not. The poodle was seen assisting the snake with other raids and robberies, in a far more provocative outfit. 
The Golden Mask would eventually resurge, and gave a rare interview to a reporter for the Midweek Alarum. When asked about the snake, their response was only :
“Fuck him. Next question.”

VERENESTRA

These jewels become your men, o Araeth dear,
Though at this time, they may still bear my mark.
But soon, they’ll be not mine, nor yours, but ours,
Now that the debt’s repaid. ‘Tis yours to claim.

ARAETH
Stop this pathetic show of feigned romance.
Your cruelty to my men and yours is proof
That you do not love me, nor aught at all
But thyself, and power gainéd for thyself.
You claimed those crown jewels not for me, but you
To prove - what? That your 

And note I that my votary, Arno, was claimed
And tortured, seduced, love-lorn by your snake.
What next will you do, Verenestra, now,
To under mine and torture my disciples?

VERENESTRA
Naught, my love. Naught at all, I swear.
Save for one thing. A child I have espied,
Who carries just a dram of blood of gods.
Not a child anymore.

ARAETH
The jackal pup?

VERENESTRA
The same.

ARAETH
He must remain untouched.
I warn you slave-like Archfey, cease, desist.
Powers like his must not be twisted to
Any one, mortal, demon, god, or fey.
If you defile him, that will be a point
Of no return for you. You will be made
An enemy of all the other planes
For a transgression so deeply unclean.
I will not hear you again. Leave me be.

VERENESTRA
All bluster, blush, and fume. But I can tell
His love for me will grow even more. 
Besides, his warnings have come far too late.
Sal’yashe has worked his tricks upon the pup.
He already dotes so desperately upon him
And his great change will come quite soon indeed.
Then Araeth will deny my love no more.

Part III. The Demi-God

It started with a town meeting, an unscheduled one for that matter. Very out of the ordinary for the mayor. Things had been quite nice and peaceful since Teryx took over from the previous mayor, a curmudgeonly type who loved to call regular meetings to gripe about whatever pet issue he had. The blue dragon was far less of a micromanager.
It was quite strange, then, to find him calling every single person in the town to the square. His tone, shared by the messengers calling the meeting, was an effusive, excited one too.
Robin wasn’t sure what to make of it, personally. He hadn’t met the mayor, or really spoken to anyone aside from the farmer whose barn he’d been crashing in for free. It meant he could pocket more of his income from his musical performances in the streets.

Having everyone out in full force, mingling and chattering nervously, meant he had more of a potential audience. His lute was doing the work today, the enchanted strings plucking a melody just beguiling enough for passersby to drop a few coins into his woolly hat. He conserved its glamour; no need to work it too hard and burn out its enchantment for the rest of the day. It wasn’t quite midday, after all, and he would need some of it to ‘convince’ that farmer for another night’s stay.
The mayor stepped up onto a hastily erected plinth, his loud voice carrying across the entire crowd and hushing it in an instant. His golden mane of hair was very carefully coiffed; he looked the part of a dignified mayor. He was quite good at commanding silence and respect. Pretty attractive, too. Robin half-wondered if he could get an audience with him. See if he could butter him up at all. For now, he stowed his lute and listened.

“I’m sure you’re all wondering why I brought you out here,” Teryx began. “I’ve got to introduce you all to some very special people. I’ve decided that they are going to have an equal share in running our fair little town.”
Some harumphs and hubbub bubbled up from the crowd. Robin crooked his head and tried to peer past the dragon. He was standing alone at the podium, and couldn’t see anyone else nearby. Until, that is, two scaled figures slid their way into view, crawling on their serpentine bellies. One was smaller, a cobra with deep sapphire scales. The other was darker-scaled - sooty grey, pock marked with little white dots, and with a cream coloured shade. That one was enormous, easily large enough to swallow more than one person in a single swoop. 
Robin sensed a stampede coming, and quickly scurried backwards.
“Remain calm, everyone!” Teryx’s calm was very disconcerting, now. It almost seemed detached. Like he knew something horrible was coming but had no intention of stopping it.
“This is Sal’yashe,” he said, gesturing to the cobra, who gave a brief, snide bow. “And this is his pet. You must see what he can do…”
All at once, the enormous snake lashed its head forward, and a scream radiated through the crowd. Those at the back of the square, closest to Robin, took off and ran. But those who were closest to the snake did not move. They didn’t have time to escape, before the snake’s gaze was upon them all. It rippled and coursed with magical power, bathing them in a hypnotic power that Robin could feel even from his distance. Weaker willed townsfolk were already staggering towards the giant snake, swaying in time with his dancing head and the dancing colours.

Robin was no stranger to spells like these. The harengon had been put under enough spells in his time to have built up a cursory resistance.
Besides… he recognized Sal’yashe. That fucker had played with his heart before. He was wise to it. And to his hypnotic powers. So he ran, as quick as he could. The screams behind him grew dimmer and dimmer, replaced with groans and cries of pleasure. 
Sal’yashe was cutting right to the chase. He never wasted any time in making things sexual.
“Classic Sal’yashe,” Robin growled. If he didn’t get out of the town, fast, he would probably end up meeting that slithery sapphire shithead face to face. And there was no telling whether Robin would try to kill him or try to kiss him. It was a 50-50 split.

–

Robin wasn’t the sort to make wagers (outside of a card game, of course), but he was pretty sure that by the end of the day he was the only one in the town who’d escaped capture. When that massive snake’s gaze was finally turned on him, he’d managed to both resist its effects, and pretend that he was as mind-fucked as the rest. 
Sal’yashe might have seen through it. But this big snake didn’t seem to notice. Besides, his hypnotic gaze wasn’t as overwhelmingly powerful as Sal’yashe’s - based on Robin’s memory of it, anyway.

“You will sssserve my masssster…” he hissed, fangs bared wickedly as he leered at the mesmerised clutch. Up until a few seconds ago, they’d been hurriedly trying to barricade the inn doors, and making peace with each other over old grudges, assuming that their deaths were nigh. Now, though, they were swaying serenely, all their worries and cares forgotten as deep blue and yellow ripples flowed through their eyes.
“We will… serve…” 
Robin was very good at affecting a ‘hypnotised servant’ voice, if he did say so himself. But it wouldn’t work forever. He didn’t know how long he could bide his time, but there was only one way to find out.

The next few days were spent keeping his head down and doing whatever the snakes said - it was usually the big one, thankfully. He never wanted to get too close to Sal’yashe if he could avoid it. The big one had some interesting proclivities… 

“Ssssuck.” It shoved the scaled tail into Robin’s mouth, almost choking him on it. It only took two loops of the snake’s tail to completely cover his body - the same went for the other half dozen ‘slaves’ in the room. 
Robin nodded and tried to look as gratefully dazed as he could, lapping it with his lapine tongue. The snake’s big tongue flicked against the top of his head, before turning its hypnotic attentions upon the rest of the room. It guided them like it was setting up a doll house, putting this one’s head between another one’s legs, guiding that one’s dick into the other one’s slit.
“Sssstart.” 
The chorus of moans filled the stable as the slaves got to work. Robin was left as a coiled up spectator, this time around. Shame. Usually he was in the thick of the hypnotic orgies. Still, it wasn’t all bad. The coils were snug and tight, and he couldn’t deny that whenever he got a breath-stealing squeeze it made his cock throb. 
Every so often, the large snake would turn its slitted gaze towards him, lean in close and open that blue mouth wide in a big, hungry grin. 
“Sssnack…” he hissed, salivating. 
Robin wanted to say ‘No Thanks’, but that would have blown his cover. It wasn’t a good space to be in… but he wasn’t sure if the snake was actually hungry or just teasing him. The snake would also pulse some of those pretty circles through his eyes, and the hare could feel the urge to let his mind go… but the big guy would always pull away just when it was at the brink, leaving him to become quite frighteningly aware of his predicament.

While he’d had a lot of fun, he still didn’t quite know what Sal’yashe’s angle was. Every so often he’d get a little glimpse into the town square, and see that the cobblestones were being gradually upturned and removed. The dirt underneath was being liberally sprinkled with spices and oils with an exotic aroma that was quickly enveloping the whole town.
He didn’t need to be a wizard to know that a ritual of some kind was being planned. Something big. 
He tried to loiter around there a little more often when he was being shunted with other mesmerised slaves from place to place. He got the odd glimpse of Sal’yashe up on that erected plinth, surveying from a pile of cushions and surrounded by servants of all sorts. He didn’t see the mayor, though.

He ran into the dragon on the morning of the fourth day, dragging a cart full of lifted-up cobblestones.
A heroic impulse slipped through his body, and before he could stop himself, he approached the former-mayor from behind and placed his hands on the sides of his neck, chanting a quick, but thorough counter-charm. The dragon stiffened and let out a confused grunt, shaking his head and slowing his pace. 
“Here, let me help you, fellow slave,” Robin said, moving in beside the dragon. “Just keep walking and listen close.”
“Wh… where am I…?” Teryx groaned.  “What’s…”
“It’ll come back to you, Mr. Mayor. You’re the steward of this town. It’s time for you to act like it.”
“Mayor… yes, that’s what I’m… yes.” Teryx was taking some time to pluck his memories free from the fog, but it was coming back to him pretty quickly. 
“Do you know what Sal’yashe is planning?” Robin asked quickly. 
“It’s… a strengthening ritual. For Kraus…”
“I’m assuming Kraus is the snake.”
“Yes. Yes… I didn’t find out much before Sal’yashe-” Teryx looked a little hot and bothered, and choked the next few words down. “When they came, he was a jackal, I think. With some snake traits, his tail and his paws chiefly. He changed into that snake before my eyes, and I’m certain Sal’yashe wants to keep him in that form. I think he’s… under Sal’yashe’s control, so if he could be freed from his-”

“Ahem.”
“A-ah!” Teryx turned quickly. The voice was familiar to both of them. Robin turned towards Sal’yashe, staring into those eyes and feeling himself start to fall in love again.
Sal’yashe looked at him with total disinterest. 
He didn’t recognize him. It wasn’t a feigned ignorance. He had simply forgotten.
That hurt Robin’s feelings far more than he would have cared to admit. 
“Teryx, dear,” Sal’yashe said, reaching out to stroke the rain-dragon’s face. “Might I borrow you? This one can take over the cobblestone dutiesss.”
“Y-yes.” Teryx choked, their eyes flicking frantically towards Robin for a moment before they followed side by side with the snake.
Robin wasn’t going to let them get separated. It took him a little bit to push the cart around a corner and out of sight, before following quickly behind. 
“What’re you doing…?” a dreamy-voiced older hen asked him as he passed.
“Oh, I’m… taking a leak, fellow Treat!” Robin said, quickly. “I’ll be right back!”

When he caught up, he found Sal’yashe was -

–

-Tickling Teryx’s shaft, agonisingly slow. One long claw traced circles around the head, then back to the base. His eyes were pulsing with those beautiful rings, drawing Teryx’s mind back in time to the first time he’d been put under his spell. It was coaxing him to drop back into the foggy bliss. To open his mind up to the pools. To return to that blissful oblivion.
It was so tempting. He wanted it so very badly. It was taking every fibre of his being not to give in. 
“How long have you been awake?” Sal’yashe interrogated. His tone wasn’t harsh. It was gentle, and knowing. Like he knew the outcome already.
“Nngh…” Teryx bared his teeth, trying to bite the inside of his mouth. The pain would keep him aware, keeping him from dropping back into the beautiful eyes, from falling in love again…
Sal’yashe dipped his head to the left, and to the right. Teryx couldn’t stop his head from swaying with them. It swayed in the air, so heavy and unwieldy. Keeping his jaw clenched was impossible. It slipped open and dangled. 
“Anssswer the quessstion when you can, Treat.” Sal’yashe said. “We’ve plenty of time. And you are going to be quite crucial to the lassst ssstage of the ritual. I need you. Do you underssstand?”
“Uh…?” Teryx’s brow furrowed. What did he mean?
“You are the mossst important ssservant I have.” Sal’yashe pressed his palm against Teryx’s thick shaft and began to stroke it properly. “I need you, my darling dragon. I can’t do what comes nexssst without you.”
“Y-you can’t…?”
Sal’yashe shook his head slowly, and Teryx shook with it. Rocking him like a lullaby. He would have fallen over if not for the tail wrapping around his body, tickling the cleft of his rump and tugging at his tail. 
“No no no…” Sal’yashe pouted sadly, and Teryx unconsciously pouted with him. “And that’sss why I need you to give in, and remember your placssse. And tell me… oncssse again… how long have you been awake…?”
“Just… five minutes…” Teryx said. Gods above, getting it off his chest felt so good. “And it was… the harengon… who…”
“Ahhh, yesss.” Sal’yashe pressed his forehead to Teryx’s. The cobra hood enclosed around him. The shining silvery inside of the hood only made the pinks and blues more beautiful and bright.
He should have known the outcome was never in doubt. It was silly of him to resist in the first place.
His mind sank back into the sapphire abyss, and he was back where he belonged.

–

“Ssso,” Sal’yashe said, thinking out loud evidently. “Now I just need to find the-”
Robin couldn’t dip out of sight in time. They locked eyes. Sal’yashe saw him. For the first…
“Ah. Thank you for coming right to me.”
His eyes began to swirl again.
Robin was rumbled.
As he stared, Robin remembered.
His fingers remembered wearing themselves raw composing love ballads for Sal’yashe.
His inner thighs remembered Sal’yashe’s tail hooking inside them and rubbing.
His ears remembered Sal’yashe’s tongue flicking and flitting against them, his breath creeping into the centre of his head.
His mind remembered how wonderful it was to devote every waking moment, every little thought, to his love. To being his love’s Treat…
“Ssso… who might you be?” Sal’yashe asked flirtatiously as he closed the gap.

…the motherfucker didn’t even RECOGNIZE him?!
If Sal’yashe hadn’t said anything, Robin would have fallen without complaint. But that realisation was like being splashed with cold water and hit with a Shocking Grasp.  
Galvanised by the resolve of a spurned lover, Robin peeled away and ran as fast as his lapine legs could carry him. The further he got away, the more he saw the expressions around him change from confusion, to sock, to anger. 
None of them could keep up with him, though.
By the time word had spread that there was someone in the town’s midst who didn’t understand Sal’yashe’s glory, said person was long gone, running as fast as their legs could carry them.

–

Ohhhhh, we’re the Heptatonic Scales,
And we delight your ears without fail~
But when all seems awry
And when it’s do or die
Our musical form of justice shall prevaaaaaail~!

As the chorus changed to a hum, the cream-scaled kobold at the head of the pack sung the first part of his verse.

Our bravery’s of the most renown,
Opposing us would make you a… jester~

Sometimes the substitutions Lars made caused him to cringe even as he sang them. His audiences rarely minded; they never seemed to find his ‘ruined’ rhymes anything less than hysterical.
He would much have preferred to rhyme properly in his melodies, but that was not feasible, unfortunately. He couldn’t risk losing his magical lustre. 
As a bard, he was a conduit for a rich seam of powerful, reality altering magic. It was tied to his voice - more specifically, his rhyming ability. Anything he spoke, if he rhymed it, would come to pass (within reason). But naturally this took a lot out of him. Lars kept a mental ‘rhyme’ budget, only saving them for when he absolutely needed them to save his life or blag a free meal. 
Singing in blank verse was difficult, not impossible. But it frustrated him. Sometimes he wished he could properly show his talents. Assigning the actual rhymes to the rest of his merry troupe of musicians was the only compromise he had, and it was one that always stymied him. But oh well.

Practising their tunes was the best way to shorten the road for the seven kobolds - five crammed into the wagon, Tiny riding the donkey pulling the cart along, and Lars perched on top. They’d run their repertoire a few times over the course of their journey. 
“Did I sound a li’l pitchy?” Lars shouted down.
“Nope!” Reymond called back. 
“I swear I’m pitchy…”
“You always say that!” Michelle added, her voice by far the deepest of the bunch. “Just rest your voice for a bit till we get to the next stop.”
“I dunno! I think we need to go one more time…”
Lars’ six co-performers groaned in a perfect minor chord. 
“And a one, two, a thr-”
“LOOK!” Tiny pointed a massive, meaty hand ahead of him. A blur of brown was sprinting towards them. 
“What’s that…?” Lars squinted ahead, putting a hand over his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun. 
Lars was able to suss out that the approaching being was a harengon, just before the rabbit tripped over himself and fell onto his hands and knees, trying his hardest not to roll over onto the hollow wooden instruments strapped to his back. 

“FuckfuckfuckfuckFUCKFUCKFUCK-” 
He rolled to a halt with one last drawn out ‘Fuuuuck’, stopping barely a metre away from the Heptatonic Scales’ merry cart. 
The harengon looked up from his prostrate position, squinting against the sunlight.
“Oh, hey,” he said, as if he’d just passed them in a busy street. “Fancy meeting you all here!”
Lars peered over the top of his wagon. 
“Robin Of-The-Fluff, as I live and breathe!” Lars clambered off the top and leapt down to hoist the rabbit back to his feet - or his knees, at least. “What’s got you running for dear life?”
“Hooh, do not go to the next town.” Robin shook his head. “It’s been overrun by snakes.”
“Snakes, you say…” Lars scratched his chin, trying to look as interestingly pensive as he could. “...the worst, most base of all the scaled creatures in this world. How many?”
“Two.”
“...just two? Taking over a whole town?!”
“They hypnotised the whole place!”
“You don’t say…” Lars nodded. “Well then, Heptatonic Scales! I believe we’ve found our next port of call!”
“Do we really need to?” Fabian poked his head out from the rear of the cart. “I’m still limping from last time.”
“Oh, you’ll walk it off,” Lars said with a dismissive wave. “And you, Robin! You’re coming with us too!”
“But I just-” Robin didn’t have the chance to add “ran away from there-” before he was bundled into the cart. “Please, wait! I can’t go back there…!
“Onwards, Tiny! Double time it! And a one two three, two two three-!”

–

“Fall deeper. Ssssink deeper.”
The mesmerised warm-bloods were too deeply entranced to even repeat after the massive snake. He could barely even see most of their faces, smothered within his thick, fat coils. They had kept him very well fed - upon Master’s orders. 
Kraus’s gaze poured over the massed slaves before him like a shower of sunlight. They stared, quiet, awestruck, masturbating. As they always did. Keeping them in a perpetual state of arousal kept them under his sway - and Master’s sway.
His girth and size was growing by the hour. The vestiges of that fragile, fuzzy thing he used to be were shrinking and melting like snow in spring, revealing the beauty underneath. His scales were beautiful. His fangs, long and thin like epée blades, pulsed with intoxicating venom that begged to be poured into the blood of his Master’s servants. His eyes were two almost perpetual whorls of hypnotic colour. And his power would grow even further before too long.  

Kraus focused his gaze on one of them, a young black-furred faun. She moaned as the colours pulsed through her mind, overwhelming her senses and making her quiver. With one scenting flick of his forked tongue, Kraus sensed her closeness to climax. He squeezed her tightly just as she cried out, choking her and making her eyes bulge. For a moment, lucidity returned, her pupils dilating in twin seas of blue and yellow, fading back to white.
Kraus could have hypnotised her with his eyes again. But he knew another method would bring her deeper. The tight squeeze had forced her mouth open, her lips pursed and squished. He opened his mouth wide above the faun’s mouth. A bead of venom pooled at the tip of an unfurled fang, and dripped downwards into her mouth, with an effervescent hiss as it met her tongue and slid down her throat. She spasmed and gulped, unable to stop it from seeping into her.
The brief flash of fear melted away within seconds, and she smiled with the wide rictus smile of a doll.
She was broken. One more of many. He had been busy. The more blindly loyal to him they were, the more loyal they would be to the Master.

…Although, if he were to -

No. 
Unthinkable.

“Krausss, my darling little Treat.” 
Kraus turned his head towards Master’s voice. He was entering through the open barn doors, the amber evening sun pouring inwards. The severe, ferocious snarl was gone from Kraus’ face, and he dipped his massive head in low like a puppy expecting headrubs. 
Some parts of his inferior half were difficult to get rid of. How was he supposed to when Master was so perfect in every way?
Kraus hissed contentedly, his tail flicking and waggling from side to side at the other end of the barn. 
“Tonight’sss the night,” Sal’yashe said. “Everything is prepared. Are you ready to become sssomething even more beautiful than before?”
Kraus hissed contently, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he leaned into the tiny hand.
“Good.” Sal’yashe cooed. “Very good boy.”
Kraus was a good boy, he knew it, but it was always nice to hear it said.

–

Robin was surrounded by kobolds and their incessant singing and practising. It was almost enough to make him want to give up the art of performance forever. If he got out of this with his free will intact, he would most certainly consider it. The town he’d just escaped was approaching fast, and with it, his dread rising. 
Maybe with the backup, he’d be able to make a difference. Or at least sneak off while they drew all the ire and aggro.
It was getting dark, but the town was luminescent. 
“Is that city on fire?” Lars asked, peering far ahead and sniffing. “No, we’d have smelled smoke by now, wouldn’t we…”
“Do you feel that?” Robin mumbled. 
“Feel wha- oh. Ohh shit.” There was a pins-and-needles tingle on the inside of Lars’ skin. 

“What’s the matter?” one asked, nervous and tetchy in the back along with the rest of the not-so-merry-now band of kobolds.
“I’m picking up something, Dorian…” Lars growled. “They’re doing some Big Magic in that town. Robin? Any ideas?”
“I bet it’s something to do with that big snake. I don’t know if it’s an awakened snake or something else, but that slithery fuck’s got plans with it. I know it.”
“...Do you think he’s going to sacrifice the town?”
“Shit, maybe.”

The cart came to a halt just outside the town limits.
“Okay, two options,” Robin said. “We can get off here and hoof it, sneak our way through, or-”
“Charge directly ahead, I wholly agree!” Lars patted Tiny on the back. “Full speed, Tiny!”
“Waitwaitno-!” Robin’s protests were drowned out by the loud whipping, the shout of the massive kobold, and the whinny of the beast of burden as they took off with speed directly into the town proper, past the eerily bare streets and straight for the square. A tight banking turn to the right sent the wagon balancing precariously on its left wheels as it sailed past, then righted itself onto its right wheels- so hard that the front wheel cracked off its axle.
“Fuck’s sake, not again!” one of the kobolds - Michelle, maybe? -shouted. She stomped on the floor of the cart, putting her foot right through it. “WE NEED A NEW CART LARS!”
“Don’t worry! All in due time!” Lars shouted over the roaring splintering clatter of the wheels. “Get ready to jump!”
“Oh fuckin’ hell,” Robin muttered.
“On my count, friends!” Lars said, staring up ahead at the massed crowds in the square and the massive serpent towering over them. “One! Tw-”
Something spooked the mule and made it stop on the spot. This lead to the wagon surging forward, bashing right into the raised point where the dirt road became cobblestone. The whole thing upturned and sailed through the air, sending every single occupant flying through the air. It was a miracle none of them ended up with a concussion, but it took a few crucial seconds for the kobolds to gather themselves. Robin had no trouble landing on his feet, while Lars skidded on his ass right next to him and leapt to his feet.
“PREPARE TO BE SAVED, NOBLE … huh.”
None of the people in the square paid them any notice. They knelt, arms outstretched, muttering something under their breaths. 
“Can they not hear me?” Lars asked, scratching his head. 
Sal’yashe stood with the mayor atop the platform in the middle of the sea of people. The mayor was naked - and erect, by the looks of it. The snake was behind Teryx, massaging the dragon’s shoulders with his hands, and his dick with his tail.
“Public Indecency… I draw the line at that!” Lars said with a huff. “Ghastly.”
“Where’s the big guy…?”
“Never you mind!” Lars said, marching towards the crowd. As he spoke the next couplet, Robin felt a familiar tingle in the air.
“Listen well, you small-town folk!
 You have just heard a funny joke!”

As the rhyming word left his throat, a rush of arcane wind blew over the square. The chanting quietened in waves, followed by a ripple of chuckles. Then a tide of giggles. Then a full-force deluge of laughter as a significant portion of the mesmerised townsfolk began to laugh and toss around uproariously. Lars grinned. 
“That’ll clear us a path straight to the mastermind!” Lars raced ahead. “Move with Haste, don’t be left behind!”
Robin hated the feeling of a Haste spell. It messed with his perception, turning everything that wasn’t directly in front of him into a blurry tunnel. And it made his muscles ache. But he wasn’t going to let that stop him from keeping up with his fellow bard. The two of them could take Sal’yashe. His wits, Lars’ reality altering rhymes… they would be untouchable.
Unfortunately, Robin forgot that he didn’t need to be touched to be stopped.
He did, however, learn where that larger snake had gone to.
A tail grabbed him from the cackling crowd and pulled him off his feet and upside down before the massive snake.
Faintly, at the periphery of the haste-blurred tunnel vision, he could see the other 6 kobolds in Lars’ band were standing still. Their eyes were gleaming.
Not as brightly as Kraus’ eyes.
“You.” Kraus hissed. 
“Me…?” Robin groaned.
“Ssssilencssse.” 
“Huh…” he grunted, like something interesting had just occurred to him. Whatever it was, it was long gone in moments. 
He could have resisted Sal’yashe. Maybe. But the blues and yellows and the thick rings of black that divided them felt different. More forceful. Where Sal’yashe’s eyes welcomed you into them, Kraus’ invaded you and shacked up inside your head, like a colonising soldier.
…he enjoyed having his mind brute-forced. 
The colours were nice. 
He stared, and lost himself.

–

The fiend was ahead. The wicked warlock looked at Lars with confusion - bemusement, too. As the mayor began to laugh, the snake slapped the dragon’s face and turned him into stare into his eyes. A fine charmer, he was - the magic charm Lars had cast vanished like vapour. But it would take Sal’yashe a long time to do the same for everyone else. 
“Fiendish snake, give up! That’s that!” Lars called out. “Now turn into a little rat!”
“Jussst what do you think you’re doiieeeeeeek-” 

In the moment as the spell took effect, just before Sal’yashe’s lengths compacted into the form of a tiny rodent, he had the most wonderful ‘oh-no’ expression on his face. Lars did his best to memorise it; it’d be perfect for the ballad he was already writing in his head about his heroism.
He ran up to the woozy mayor and gave him a smack, watching as the little blue rat scurried away with frantic squeaks. 
“Mayor Teryx, I presume?”
“Huh… wha?” the dragon shook his head, the remaining vestiges of his trance melting away. He winced at the cacophony of cackles around him, covering his ear holes. “What on earth is going on?”
“Oh, don’t worry about it,” Lars said. “There’ll be plenty of time to explain… while we negotiate my fee, that is. But all you need to know, for now, is that you’re saved!”
He gestured out towards the crowd, and towards the enormous serpent towering over them. His massive coils were fencing off the laughing crowds, and drawing their gaze towards his swirling pools of colour, eye catching even from their distance. He was approaching them, too, the hypnotised revellers parting like an ocean for him. 

“...Or not!” Lars added quickly. “Come on! Let’s move! To me, Robin!”
No response from Robin. Or from Teryx. As Lars looked up at him, he could see the same rings of colour starting to flow through the mayor’s eyes. Being charmed seemed to be second nature to him. Oh well. He leapt off the platform, leaving the now-dazed dragon to his fate while he tried to come up with another quick rhyme. 
“Okay, okay… I want him to freeze. Knees? He doesn’t have knees, no…. Maybe - ooh ooh. Cold blooded thing, prepare to freeze, stuck inside a wintr’y br-!”
He ran head first into a familiar scaly chest.
“Tiny! Watch where you’re- hrrk!” a tight hand around his throat hoisted his scrabbling limbs off the ground, and he stared right into his band-mate’s blank face and swirling eyes. 
“M-mercy…!” Lars croaked. “C’mon old… friendgk…”
He did show a bit of mercy, relaxing his powerful grip as he carried Lars back towards the massive serpent, like a fisher with his still-wriggling catch.

Kraus’ steely eyes stared down at him - not swirling hypnotically, but impossible to look away from. Lars whimpered, glancing around so frantically that he might have broken his neck. The rest of his band gathered around him. Along with Robin. All of them staring blankly, eyes swirling.
“You will submit to Master Kraus,” they all intoned in perfect unison.
“And tell me,” Kraus added, “where my Massster is. What have you done to him…?”
“I’m afraid it’s too late for him, scaly knave!”
The next couplet would do it. Petrification might work. “But I’ll turn your scales to stone, like a grave!!”
However, he only got the first two words out:
“But I’ll-”
“Be Sal’yashe’s loving slave.”

“Wha-” Lars didn’t have time to process how the snake managed to break the spell so fast before his couplet took effect. His heart leapt out of his chest and his eyes snapped to the sapphire serpent gliding before him. The most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Now that he was looking - really looking - the little kobold wondered just how he’d managed to avoid falling for him the first time he laid eyes on him.
“H…Hi…~” Lars said, his dimpling smile splitting his blushing face as he wiggled his fingers at his new love.
“You are quite cute, you know that?” Sal’yashe said, shaking his head. “And that gift of yoursss… perhaps we can use that, if you’ve ssstill got sssome energy left in you.”
“I’d work myself to death for you, Master!” Lars chirped, eyes wide, his pupils two throbbing red hearts. 
“That… won’t be necessary,” Sal’yashe said with a little grimace. “Come along. Let usss re-ssset the ritual.”
“Of course!” Lars kicked at the air, desperate to walk alongside his master. He wriggled from Tiny’s grip and raced alongside him, shooting angry daggers at everyone else. Especially the big snake.

–

Soon, everyone was in position, save for Kraus. As Sal’yashe spoke to the flock, the large constrictor shrank. His serpentine features were vanishing, his snout turning thinner and sharper. Fur sprouted over his body as his scales turned back to mammalian flesh - it felt too tight, too warm and itchy. His re-growing arms and legs felt gangly and awkward. He hated having to force himself back into the imperfect form he once was, but it was a necessity for the ritual. As compacted his shape, Kraus listened to his Master speak. Sal’yashe seemed rather pleasantly agitated. He was excited for what was to come next.
Kraus was still torn, and nervous.

“Now, it is important that everyone is in perfect unison,” Sal’yashe said. “The mayor has been doing a sssterling job ssso far, haven’t you?”
“Mmmnyesss…” Teryx moaned, back to happily humping Sal’yashe’s tail.
“But perhaps, sssince you are all sssuch talented performersss, you could lead everyone in sssome revelry?”
“I’d love to,” Robin said, dreamily tuning up his instrument as he leaned against Kraus’ massive scales.
“Yesss, that would be wonderful, Richard.”
“That’s… not my name.”
“Of course, sssorry Treat.”
“Anything for you, my most darling Sal’yashe!” Lars was genuflecting as theatrically as he could, desperate to impress in his own right. “Is there time for me to sing you a song I just wrote for you?”
“Thank you, but no,” Sal’yashe said. “The last two were… plenty.”
He looked over the crowd.
“Thisss ritual we’re going to perform normally only needs the life forcssse of a dozen. But, obviousssly that would result in their death. Ssspreading it out like this, taking a little tithe from every ssssoul in thisss town… it will ensssure that you all don’t feel anything more than a little hangover.”
“That’s genius!” Lars said. “I’ll have to write a ballad about-”
“I was gonna say it was genius, Sal’yashe!” Robin said. “You’re so smart, and sexy-”
“Please, hop to it. I need a moment.”

By that point, Kraus was back to his old self. He felt so puny, frail, and fragile, and his scaled tail - one of the few things that persisted from his ‘true’ form - wrapped around his waist to hide himself. He felt naked.
Sal’yashe approached him, and stroked his snout, guiding his gaze up.
“I think you should sssee your reflection,” Sal’yashe said gently. 
“I don’t know if I want to, Massster,” Kraus said softly, unable to stop his forked tongue from hissing.

“I would sssuggest you do, while you can. Ssso you can remember your old, imperfect ssself.”
“Yes… you are right, Massster.” Kraus nodded. He closed his eyes, and exhaled. He opened them again, and looked into the brown-furred face of the jackal that would soon no longer exist. Sal’yashe had conjured him a mirror. He examined himself for a long moment, turning his head this way and that.
…He had another name, once. But reaching for it through the fog felt difficult, painful… and yet, necessary. A name to put to this face. 
Sal’yashe could see that conflict and desire on his face, he was sure of it. So why, then, did he pull the mirror away at that moment, and steal his chance to remember? It broke his heart to see it go, never to be remembered again.
As Kraus’ canine ears sagged and his heart sank, he tried to tell himself that Sal’yashe must have had a good reason. He always had his best interests in mind. …Right?

The moonlight hit his face. His guts began to heat and swim. His whole body writhed for a moment, his legs giving way as he hissed out intense breaths.
“It’s… t-time…!” Kraus growled, clutching at himself as his arms began to fuse to his torso and his legs pressed together. “Is it… ss-uppposssed to hurt…?”
“I don’t know. Is it hurting?”
“No… it feels…ngh…!” His moans turned pleasured as his fur slowly sloughed away, and his body began to shift once more. 
“Now then!” Sal’yashe clapped his hands together and shouted with the maniacal glee of a mad scientist. “Jussst as we practised! Begin the chant anew! Stroke! Engorge! Give a piecssse of yourssself for this great transformation!”
The scent of sex filled the air, the chorus of chanting, halting united moans ringing in Kraus’ ears. Their essence was already trickling into him, pushing into his closing pores. His transformation would be difficult, and long. But Kraus knew his new form would be beautiful.

–

Sal’yashe was able to relax a bit after the first five minutes or so, once everything was going to plan. After the initial chant was established, he could just idly molest the few treats he’d kept up on the plinth, watching as Kraus’ serpentine body grew and lengthened with each long, shuddering breath and each new synchronised gush of fluid from the townsfolk. Kraus’ body would circumnavigate the whole square by dawn, just in time for the final stages of the ritual. 
For now, he could lounge and enjoy the show. As well as his new playthings. 
His torso lounged on a seat of kobolds, all of them supporting his weight and massaging his aching body. Lars was in front bathing Sal’yashe’s bellyscutes with his tongue, moaning, sniffing and stroking himself as hard as he could. 
The rabbit was directly in front of him, allowing him to pet his soft fur and play with his hair while they kissed. By now Sal’yashe had also remembered the name of that rabbit - Rupert was quite a good kisser. 
As for Teryx… he was on display, still humping Sal’yashe’s tailtip, showing himself to be a wonderful example to his fellow townsfolk. He was born to lead. Everyone came on his cue as his muscular, sweaty body glistened in the moonlight. 
Just as the pre-dawn blackness set in, the orgiastic ritual came to an apex.
 Kraus let out a long, sharp hissing gasp, his scales taking on a beautiful, searing luminescence.  There was a crackle like a thunderclap, and a rustling crunch like a thousand insects being crushed at once. 
The eyes and bodies of each and every participant rolled and spasmed, little wisps of electric blue coursing from their mouths, their eyes, and their genitals. Their orgone essence, sublimated, swirled into a storm over their heads. Just a tiny wisp from each one was enough to create a whirling miniature hurricane over them all. 
Kraus reached his massive serpentine head right into the middle of the storm, and opened his mouth wide. As it filled his body, it illuminated every nerve ending and vein in his long body, a diagram of every inch of his now-divine serpentine form. It pooled in several reservoirs along his body and pushed upwards. 
“Magnificent,” Sal’yashe whispered. He flinched at the sound that came next - tearing, mixed with a cry of pain from Kraus.
The collected light and smoke in each of those reservoirs burst forth from Kraus’ skin, fully formed as massive, shining, multicoloured wings. Kraus reared up and cried out again - it wasn’t pain. Maybe it never had been to begin with. It was pleasure. The pleasure of ascension to something new. Something powerful and primal. Something that would - hopefully - be loyal to Lady Verenestra - and by extension, him.

Sal’yashe didn’t fault the people of the town - or his servants for that matter - for bowing down and staring up with awe at the massive winged serpent, illuminated by the dawn, great and powerful.
They were in the presence of a demi-god, after all. 
Kraus looked down at them, sweeping his gaze over the crowd. He could swallow a dozen of them at a time, if he was so inclined. And that included Sal’yashe. He crossed his fingers, even as he tensed his coils and prepared a spell ready to flee.
Their eyes met, and Sal’yashe held his breath. The gaze was imperious and expressionless, almost like a pure, primal feral snake.
A smile appeared next. Sal’yashe still held his breath.
Kraus’ head moved closer, looming over him, the dark blue tongue scenting him.
Sal’yashe tried not to pass out.
“Where…” Kraus said, slowly, his voice deep and guttural. 
Sal’yashe braced himself.
“...Shall I take you first, my Massster?”
Sal’yashe breathed once again. He had a mount, at last.
And the world would really come to know him, and his Mistress’ power. Few things would command the same respect as a giant, winged serpent. 

VERENESTRA
Well, god? See you how easy t’was 
To leash a god-kin to me? And how all
Those threats and bluster from our kith and kin
Were naught but bluffs? The demi-god is mine.
And yours. My gift, my last great gift to you.
Now, deny me no longer. Be mine, Araeth, love.

ARAETH
You will not have my love, O Whore of Mirrors.
Your sheen does not reflect, but it distorts
Your vicious cruelty into feigned beauty.
The cruelty you have meted out upon
Beautiful, sweet, pure things that you’ve ruin’d
Has not gone unnoticed. 

VERENESTRA
Make me pure, then!
Bathe me in sun, and warmth, in your grasp,
And show me how to be a better Fey.
Please, take your temple, jewels, the Asp,
And from my base mistakes take me away.
ARAETH
I will not help you, you petty sow.
A Fey like you does not deserve my love.
Do understand how much I hate thee now.
Our wrath will rain upon you from above.

VERENESTRA
Oh, fool. You think your siblings will attack
The Fey upon your bidding? Lack-wit. That
Is not your choice to make. Away, adieu.

Sal’yashe, my dearest worm. I still have you.

A Huge, HUGE Thank-You to the funders of this story; your ideas and support made this an absolute joy to write!

PART I. The Artefact
Nils/FolferCiarán
Dergsnippy
Sapphire/LuigiRulz
Veridis

PART II. The Crown Jewels
SarcasticKoopa
ArcturusChusky
Sabinmoon
Flarfenarfle

PART III. The Demi-God
HerrJackal
MiloMesmer
TeryxC
Flarfenarfle 

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