Late to the Afterparty

CW: Sexual Content

The bell rang out, sounding in my ears that the match was over. With deep, heaving breaths, I glanced from the pool of blood at my feet, trying to search through swollen eyes and a punch-drunk rage for the beast I had been fighting. Reaching my broken hand up, wiping away the blood from my blurred vision, I could see it. The corpse of the twisted flesh golem I had fought. The same beast that had been the wyvern towering over me a dozen or so matches ago.

The stands booed viciously, disappointed that I had yet again survived the matchup thrown my way. But I was used to that. I was different than them. I was less than different. A slave to their machinations. Forced to work in the ore fields by day and fight for my life against captured monsters by night.

Looking down at my blood-soaked hands, I quickly began to feel woozy. With a cough, I doubled over, spitting out more of my life force onto the colosseum floor and feeling something at the front of my mouth wiggle loosely. As I reached up, tugging forcefully at the orcish tusk, it ripped free.

Piece by piece, they break me. I thought, clenching the tooth in my hand before raising a fist to the ceiling in defiance. But they will never destroy my spirit. I will live to spite them.

The crowd's booing increased as they began throwing things at me. Steins emptied of ale, half-eaten legs and wings, plates, seats, and anything not nailed down by the ringmaster of the twisted circus I performed in. It was only then that I heeded my master's call and began to exit the arena.

As my tongue fiddled with the spot a tusk had been, I glanced through half-shut eyes towards the guard posts that watched me. Dozens of crossbowmen eyed my slow exit, their itchy trigger fingers looking for an excuse to squeeze off their bolts. Even the pair of ballista meant for the monsters I fought now watched me, the biggest threat in this punch-bowl I frequented.

Reaching the exit of the arena, I began my march past the stands as figures booed and hissed, pouring liquor over my body and stinging my wounds. And then, one particular individual ignored the rules of the punch-bowl and slipped a hand past the caging to touch me. I felt their caressing before I saw it. The feeling of a soft, dainty hand with no sign of hardship beyond the calluses of a well-travelled bard.

The tips of the fingers brushed my arm, and in an instant, I felt life flow back into me. No longer fighting the tinnitus that had smothered my ears in static for nearly a fortnight, I could hear the gentle strum of a lute and the whisper of words meeting me.

"Megged. Megged. The man. The myth. The monster. Do you wish to be free of your shackles? Freed to dance to the beat of your own drum?"

I paused, looking up towards the melodic voice that whispered my way. And there, in the stands, staring down at me as the illusory embrace faded and the soft hand disappeared, seven emerald-cloaked figures looked my way.

"What?" I replied, looking away from them out of respect, for I was just a slave. "What did you do?"

"Healed you, of course, Miraculous Megged." The bard whispered again. "Do you wish to be free?"

Hesitating, I held my tongue. My vision had cleared. My wounds healed. I felt better than I had in years. Even in my youth, before my enslavement, I had never known this kindness.

"What's the catch?"

"Heee," The emerald figure squealed softly. "Chaos. Help us free Uth'ranta from the slavers that hold it hostage."

"Hey, you, scum!" A guard began to approach me, the sound of his unsheathing blade meeting my healed ears. "Get moving!"

"Why?"

"Why? Because slavery is wrong, duh."

"And who are you?"

"Me?" The woman cooed, her voice now directly in my ear like a whisper on the wind. "Just someone looking to right the wrongs of this world. My name is..."

Her name scattered on the wind, a static that I couldn't hear. But I knew that Megged had heard it clearly in that moment, and, with an acknowledging nod, I prepared myself. The guard approached from behind and, without hesitation, slid his sword into my back. But I didn't flinch.

"Move! Scum!"

"Okay." I agreed to the bard's deal as I heard the whistle of a crossbow bolt cutting through the air my way.

Turning to face the man, with a single swipe of my hand, I caught the arrow the moment it entered my range before stabbing it through the guard's eye.

—ooo—

I awoke with a start, the final moments of the dream playing on repeat in my mind as my heart raced. With a slow exhale, as I quietly rested in the dark, I thought of the cloaked figures. The faces hidden beneath, and the name lost to static. Faces and names, much like the redactions in the Ark documentation, that had been scrubbed from history for the protection of the people who walked the land of Esseria.

Was that... I thought cautiously, my breathing beginning to slow. The Moonkissed Poet? Before she became one of the Emerald Pantheon? But...I never wrote about her meeting Megged, or how he came to run the Punchbowl.

Unfortunately, I wouldn't have the time to think more about the dream or its implications as the darkness shifted. It was then that I realized that it wasn't the space around me that had been dark, but instead that my head had been trapped inside my shirt. Though that too would soon change as the fabric was ripped from my head, revealing a lavishly decorated, albeit dimly lit, room. 

Freed from my thoughts, I began to realize that I was lying atop a soft bed, the down comforter enveloping my sides as I slowly sank deeper into the plush pillow top of the mattress. The smell of a musky incense met my nose, confusing my senses as it mixed with the flavour of a grape healing potion that hung on my lips, which in turn poorly masked the coppery taste of blood on my tongue. Navigating the sensory overload, I began to move, suddenly noticing the cool air of an open window kissing my exposed chest. 

Unsure what was happening or how I had gotten there, I raised my head to look for the window and possibly a landmark to place where I currently was in the city. It was then that I noticed shuffling beside me. I couldn’t tell who it was, but they had taken up position to my side where they hoisted something heavy into the air, preparing to slam it down onto me.

With thoughts of the bout clouding my mind and fresh memories of gladiatorial battles as Megged, I felt a burst of magical energy overtake me. Not wanting to be at more of a disadvantage than I already was, I lunged at the being, forcing my body against them before throwing them to the bed. From there, I leapt atop the athletic frame, disarming them of their weapon and pinning their wrists above their head with a single hand. Resting my hips against theirs, I had them locked in place, their body no longer squirming as I lifted my other arm to strike. By channelling magic into my wrappings, they illuminated the space around us with a burgundy glow, and as I leaned in close, the face of my assailant was revealed.

"Aes?" I gasped, looking into her flushed cheeks and drunken expression.

"Iz." She moaned softly, giggling as the smell of wine wafted from her. "Hi."

"You spooked me. Gah, why do you smell like a winery?"

Releasing my hold on her wrists, I watched as Aesandoral pulled a hand before her face to hide the bashful expression she wore. I took this moment to examine the position we found ourselves in. The bandeau she usually wore was missing, exposing her bare flesh, with the only thing keeping me from seeing her perky breasts being a stolen shirt of mine she had slipped on and left unbuttoned. The heavy object I had seen her shadow wielding had, in fact, been a near-finished bottle of wine that now rested at her side, spilling over the once pristine sheets. As I followed the stain, I eyed her soft legs as they slowly extended, wrapping around my hips as the warmth between our waists grew ever hotter as she squirmed beneath my weight.

“Mmmm,” She moaned softly from under me, her legs locking with mine as she reached her free hand up to touch at the spot where my ear had once been. “Iz—” 

As the moment went on, I not only felt the fabric of my pants grow tight and damp against her waist, but also the thud of a gild immediately landing on the mattress beside the drunken Aesandoral. The girl giggled in reply as she slid her hand down from her face, tossing aside the shirt she wore and revealing her chest to me. My eyes immediately wandered, granting me a glimpse at her small mounds marked by excited peaks and causing another gild to fall.

“Oooh, you like it.” Aesandoral giggled as she began to gyrate under me, her hips finding my own excited extension and being sure to move along its length with rhythmic thrusts.

My heart raced at the rolling sensation of her body against mine. In agreement, my mind flashed scenarios of how to move forward now that I had finally reached the moment I had been longing for since I first saw her. This space was as private as it was going to get between us. A room away from the others where we could experience each other's touch. Where I could feel our bodies connect and fulfill an earthly fetish in reality. And as I rest there, my arm just over her shoulder, propping me up as I could feel my heart throbbing in my waist with every gentle trust of her hips against my shorts, I knew my contractual celibacy was about to lose its battle to lust.

Finally, with one hand still against my face, I felt as the other reached towards my hips. Moving teasingly slow, her fingers slipped between the waist of my shorts and the sensitive flesh beneath. And as a shiver raced through my body, a chill of pleasure and euphoria, I regained control of my desires. I remembered that even though we were alone, Phyllis was always watching.

“N-no!” I yelped, pushing off from her and out of the bed, where I quickly turned away to examine my half-exposed staff. “W-Whoa, heh—A-Aesandoral, wh-what’s going on? What's this about?”

“You did it,” She drunkenly replied, as I listened to the sound of rustling sheets in the moments before her lithe arms draped over my shoulders, gripping at my bare chest. “You won."

Aesandoral's soft lips began to touch my shoulder, gently kissing every inch as they travelled up my neck towards my jawline. I felt goosebumps crawl down my arms as one of her hands slowly reached from my chest towards my waist. Delicate fingers traced my abs before they began to dip beneath the fabric of my shorts once more. At this irresistible experience, I craned my neck back, gasping pleasurably as I allowed her to take control over me in this moment.

"Iz, take me as your reward,” Aesandoral whispered seductively as her lips reached the side of my head, where she gently bit at my ear. "Do what you want with me."

A chill ran down my spine as I yelped, Aesandoral's fingertips now drawing near enough to take hold of me. Against my own desires, I hopped forward, turning back to address the alluring temptress. But what I saw only made my body hotter, and my mind even more clouded. Aesandoral had tumbled back into the sheets, her legs positioned carefully to hide what I now realized was her naked lower half. My shirt still hung loosely from her shoulders, but no longer concealed her chest. And, as my heart raced while I took in Aesandoral's nude body, another gild dropped to the bed, making it three.

“Ishara,” She moaned through the hand that hid her rosy, embarrassed face. “I want you. Please. Take me. Tonight.” 

As she said this, Aesandoral slid her hands back onto the bed, and her legs tumbled down to a comfortable rest, exposing her body in its entirety to me. I gulped, vibrating as every instinct of mine screamed to take her. My mouth salivated at the sight of her glistening form as the longing to taste her filled my chest. Old habits, long since passed, took hold of me. They told me to kneel before the elf and worship at her altar. To use my mouth to sing holy hymns into the core of her body until she cried out the names of the Gods in ecstasy. And only once she was thoroughly satisfied could we finally unite as one.

Fug. Fug. Fug. Fug. I fought the urge to act on my lecherous wants as another gild dropped. This is not fair!

Turning around, I hid my vision and grabbed at my heart. Horny teenager Ishara was ready to go.  Horny adult Tahvin was also ready to go. Aesandoral was also ready and willing. So, what was the problem? I knew that I could likely work through the contract with Phyllis if it really came down to it. But there was something else holding me back. Something more personal.

“Hey, Aes, like—” I muttered, struggling to find the words that I had never spoken before. “You-You’re like really drunk, and I don’t think we should be—you know, intimate. Do you understand? I-I do really like you, and trust me, everything in me is screaming yes, but I think if we're going to, you know, do it, then our first time should be-be special…you know?”

I waited for her to reply, listening to soft whimpers cut through the tense silence. Behind me, the sheets gently shifted as I felt my heart drop. After all, the last thing I wanted was to make Aesandoral feel bad coming to me for intimacy—especially when I felt the same way for her.

“Aes," I continued after the moment had stretched on long enough to begin fueling anxiety. "Please don’t think I don’t like you. You just got, like, four hundred gold off of me, so, like, you totally won this round. And your body is—phew—like, Grecian Goddess levels of hot. Like Veronica's Secrets hot! It's just, ummm, I just don’t want to—ummm—I just don't want to rush into things, especially after I just got my ass kicked and you’re—”

“Huuuuuh—shhooooo.”

Pausing at the sound, I froze for a minute and listened. The whimpering had stopped, and the shuffling in the sheets had grown quiet. All that remained, filling the air of the still room, was the same heavy breathing I had grown used to hearing while on watch around our campsites.

“Are-are you snoring?” I asked, peeking over my shoulder to confirm that Aesandoral was in fact not only still lying in the same vulnerable position but now, also, fast asleep.

Staring in disbelief for a moment, I caught myself admiring Aesandoral's exposed body, wondering what would have happened if I had instead said yes. Another gild dropped to the bed as the lecherous thoughts took over once again. 

Another time. I reassured myself as I carefully grabbed Aesandoral by her feet, twisting her body onto the bed and throwing the sheets over her. There will be other times.

With the contractual crisis averted, I exited the den of near debauchery into a grand suite, not too dissimilar from that of the Gonquin Garrison. From here, I followed the pungent smell of fyreweed away from my room and down the art nouveau-style hall. Eventually, drawn in by the soft voices of conversation, I found the lounge where Rionriv and Sharzin rested. Both, not quite as drunk as their elven companion, were draped over the couches, still enjoying their fyreweed cigarettes and drinks.

“Can I have one?” I asked, entering the room and plopping myself into one of the free seats. “I need it."

“There’s the champ,” Rionriv remarked, directing her attention my way before looking me up and down. “Where’s your shirt?”

“I woke up to Aes, I think, trying to have her way with me.”

“She actually did it?” Sharzin gasped, sitting up with a start before pointing aggressively in the sorceress's direction. “You go, girl. Pay up, were-bish!”

With a grimace, Rionriv sighed as she slipped out a gild and handed it over to Sharzin. Eying the exchange in disbelief, I looked between the two before finally finding the words.

“Wait, you were placing bets?!” I scolded them. “F-for literal sexual assault? Which one of you convinced her to do it? And which one of you is going to explain to her why she woke up in my bed naked?”

I watched as the two of them, unfazed by my surprise, shot each other a glance before looking back my way. As Sharzin shrugged, uninterested in answering the question, Rionriv threw me a small leather sack.

“What’s this?" I scoffed, taking the hefty purse in my grip. "Morning-after? We didn't do it, you know.”

“Those are your winnings, seven more diamonds to add to your collection.”

Another thirty-five thousand gold after one night of fights? I thought, ripping open the bag to see the fine-cut diamonds within. How much money did they win betting on me?

“The odds were sixty-five to one,” Rionriv explained after giving me a moment to marvel. “You were an underdog, and we raked it in. And so you know, we didn’t convince Aes to do anything to you. She wanted to give you a once-over for earning her twenty-six more of those. That's all.”

"Aesandoral walked away with a hundred and thirty thousand gold coins?" I gasped as Sharzin leaned my way with a lit cigarette.

"Yeah," She answered. "And that's not all..."

As I enjoyed the relaxing joint and accompanying liquor, the pair filled me in on what I had missed. The cheering of my name. Carting my unconscious body across town to the best hotel in the city, where we were set up in the penthouse suite. I also learned that Aesandoral wasn't the only one to walk away with a sizable win. Sharzin had made thirty-nine thousand gold off of her bets, while Rionriv had earned seventy-eight thousand. And while my plan to open up a mine would never come to fruition, it appeared that we would still walk away from Bucharion's Pass richer than before.