Council in Alishan (Patreon)

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The large and spacious rounded room with a high vaulted ceiling was astonishingly luxurious in every way. The walls were covered with intricate mosaic ornaments that served as the basis for a powerful stationary defense against all sorts of seers and prophets. The floors were lined with slabs of rare marble, which also formed a complex geometric pattern and were the basis for various protective barriers, ready to be activated at the slightest danger to those in the room. Four small fountains of crystal-clear water that gurgled merrily in four places on the walls, forming a square, contained powerful spirits of purity and life that would absorb the vast majority of poisons if they were sprayed into the air. In the center of the room were laid magnificent carpets, each of which was tailor-made by a skilled craftsman and enchanted as well. In case of danger, the enchantments were ready to absorb the attacking magic or create a protective barrier around the person sitting on it. The room was illuminated by several dozen golden lamps, in which the magic flame burned brightly, giving neither soot nor the risk of fire. And which by its light dispelled, or at least made the work of any illusionists very difficult. There was also a light aroma of expensive incense in the air, which gave those who inhaled it a temporary increase in perception and made it easier to use clairvoyance and analytical skills without any serious complications.

In the center of the room was a rather large low round table on which a huge map was spread out. Around it sat a dozen men of different ages and a couple of women sitting on magnificent cushions in a wide circle. All men were dressed in magnificent traditional robes of the noble sons of the Great Desert, sewn from the best fabrics and embroidered with gold and silver, which literally shouted about the huge wealth of the owners. Each of them wore a high turban on his head, decorated with gems or feathers of strange birds. The outfit of one of the two women at the table was quite traditional for wealthy daughters of the Great Desert, but it did not hide her face and was made of the finest red silk embroidered with gold, bought in the Empire of Arms. She was also wearing numerous pieces of gold jewelry, mostly rubies. The contrast was starker than the second woman, whose outfit was a simple hooded robe of worn black cloth that completely concealed its owner. It would have suited a beggar, and it looked wild against the background of the other people present. But none of the people in the room would have dreamed of speaking out loud about it. There were no fools.

There were also several men of the retinue behind each of those seated at the table. The closest aides, advisors, and relatives, or the most valuable and loyal slaves. Only there was no one near the black-clad woman. Which, again, did not surprise anyone. She had her special entourage. The only one who was not sitting on the cushions was a large, well-fed man, broad-shouldered with a short, well-groomed beard and a manly face, but with a noticeable belly, which even a magnificent blue and gold robe could not hide. Unlike the others, he sat cross-legged on a small mat that hovered a few elbows above the floor, thus elevating him above everyone else. He was also the only one at the table to carry a weapon, a curved dagger on his belt, in a scabbard studded with snow-white pearls. Towering over the map spread out on the table, he scrutinized the numerous figures in the form of cities, fortresses, temples, horsemen, soldiers, and even various monsters. There were a few figurines depicting specific humans or non-humans. Most of them were made of copper, some of silver, and only a few of pure gold. A person with some knowledge of cartography would easily recognize the area depicted on the map as the borderlands between the Great Desert and the southern borders of the Empire of Ages. And if he knew more about the art of warfare, he would recognize the troops of the two great powers gathered on the border. And if he was also a member of the highest ruling circles, he would easily recognize some of the figures as the most powerful Heroes or Summoned of both countries.

In addition to those seated around the table and their retinues, several dozen other people were in the room. Two dozen armed guards, wearing gilded armor made by the finest masters of the Great Desert, lined the walls, standing at regular intervals. There was also a full circle of seers, who sat apart from the others, holding hands and staring into the void, blinking occasionally. In front of them stood a dish of pure gold, on which lay a small handful of amber powder, in which people versed in alchemy would instantly recognize an extremely expensive and rare drug mined only in the sands of the Great Desert. Despite its instant addiction and severe withdrawal, it temporarily increased the abilities of the psychics who use it by an order of magnitude. One or the other seer reached out his hand, took a tiny pinch of it, and brought it to his nose. Or he would open his mouth and rub it into his gums. At that moment, his eyes would light up with a bright blue light. A few silent servants were always with the seers, taking notes of everything the seers said in a low whisper and passing them to the table, after which the position of the figures on the map changed.

Which, by the way, were not only on the map. There was a small stand next to each of the people sitting at the table, on which there were also various figures. Most of them were on a tray held by a shaven-headed servant dressed as a slave eunuch next to a man sitting on a floating rug. In a moment, he reached out a palm-studded with jeweled rings and touched one of the pure gold figures on the tray, a young man on horseback with a huge two-handed sword. A moment later, it was on the map, opposite several copper figures of warriors with spears standing in a line. The others at the table looked at the new figure for a few seconds, and then one of them, no less broad-shouldered and military-looking, sitting directly opposite the towering man, said politely:

"It is a very bold move, Honorable Shaddat-Ilkhan, but equally risky. Davus-Jar was summoned only two years ago. Will he be strong enough for such a fight?"

The man sitting on the hovering carpet spoke in a sonorous voice, a man accustomed to command:

"Even if this will be his last fight, the risk is justified, Honorable Selim-Khan. More than that, it is necessary now. There may never be another chance like it. Truly, the Goddess of Fortune herself has smiled upon us."

"I very much doubt, most honorable Shaddat-Ilkhan, that she had anything to do with what happened to the northern wicked," came a creaky elderly voice from the depths of the black robe.

Glancing at the woman who had raised her voice, Shaddat mentally cringed at her insolence but did not show it. Instead, he said:

"Maybe she doesn't. But in any case, honorable Kali-Shala, it is foolish to deny the circumstances are as good as they can be for us. The arrogant fools who so recklessly called themselves Eternals are more vulnerable than ever. Their worthless ruler has perished in Hell along with his capital, and there's a good chance that's where they'll stay. The Empire is decapitated. The troops are demoralized, their spirits broken. One of the main threats to our troops, the thrice-cursed Redyan, has also recently left this world in the company of the Second Prince and his retinue. What is this but the greatest good fortune for us? Therefore, I believe we must strike now. And with all our might."

Having finished his speech, Shaddat-Ilkhan looked around at those sitting around him with an attentive gaze. In fact, most of the Khans were in complete agreement with him. The question was only about who and what forces would be sent to the battle. And in this matter, it was impossible to reach an agreement. Everyone understood the necessity of war with the cursed northerners. Everyone understood it was necessary and beneficial to all. But each of those present in the room, despite the exceptional politeness and friendliness of the conversation, feared and hated those sitting next to him much more than the northern wicked or even their friends, the cursed sharp-eared forest dwellers. For they were far away. And his compatriot neighbors were close, even very close. And each of them would be infinitely happy if it was not his warriors who would lay their heads under the blades of the Northmen but their neighbor's warriors. So it is not him, but his neighbor will lose the most powerful fighters and waste the most powerful artifacts or rare resources. So they can get rid of their rival, take over their oases, which are disappointingly few in the Great Desert, or seize trade routes. That's why they've been sitting here for longer than an hour, discussing the plan for the future campaign.

In fact, that's why Shaddat-Ilkhan made such a demonstrative move. To put one of his most promising military Summoned on the line. It is a risky move. He is really still young, and the chance he will lay down his head is great. But after such a move, the other Khans, each of whom, no doubt, dreams of taking his place, will not be able not to respond. Since it is impossible to lose face before their suzerain, especially before the other khans. But, to Shaddat-Ilkhan's surprise, the second of the women present in their circle suddenly took the floor. She had not spoken much before but mostly only listened. Unlike Kali-Shala, wrapped in a black cloak, her voice was melodious, and her appearance, despite her decades of life, was more than sweet and kind-hearted. She literally embodied the beauty of a mature daughter of the Great Desert, white-skinned as a noble should be, with hair as long and curly as black as pitch. However, only a fool or a very distant stranger could be deceived by this beauty and loveliness. In the Great Desert and the surrounding lands, there was no one left who would be foolish enough not to take Asal-Ghuri seriously. She was known as the Desert Viper behind her back (and only in whispers). One of the most powerful women in the Great Desert, she had reached great heights in the art of spellcasting Spirits and making favorable treaties with them.

This woman has successfully survived her parents, who chose her husband as a young girl, her husband, and most of his sons and daughters, both her own and from other wives. Most of whom she also survived, as well as a host of other relatives near and far, both her own and on her late husband's side. And most of them had left this world surprisingly fortunate for her. How many attempts to get rid of this snake, as banal killing and turning into a toy for bed pleasures with a washed head, except for herself, probably no one knew. But what everyone knew now was she never forgave offenses and almost always found ways to take revenge on ill-wishers. Often at the most unexpected moment and invariably in an extremely painful way. In the end, after the death of another ill-wisher, which almost led to a major feud, Shaddat tacitly recognized her as the unspoken matriarch of one of the most powerful clans in the Great Desert.

The official Khan of the Chirash clan was now Asal-Guri's grandson, a boy of seventeen, the son of one of the Desert Viper's youngest sons, who died mysteriously and suddenly as soon as he began to show excessive independence in ruling the clan without consulting his loving mother. His first and second wives, as well as some of his concubines, also died suddenly. The brat who took his deceased father's place drew the right conclusions and, as spies report, did not get involved in the clan management. Instead, he spends his days and nights in his father's harem, where his loving grandmother regularly supplies him with new toys. As a result, he has already had two dozen offspring. No doubt he would still prefer to be surrounded by his living toys, but if Asal-Guri were to appear at Ilkhan's council without him, it would be too obvious a breach of etiquette and formality. Even the fact that she was there and speaking while the official Khan was huddled behind her back was already rather insolent.

"Most honorable Shaddat-Ilkhan, I wish as much as you do for the defeat of the accursed northern wicked," sang melodiously a woman whom almost everyone present secretly longed to see, if not in a slave collar, then shortened on the head.

"But I don't think we should strike them right now. First of all, for our good."

Surprised whispers resounded in the room, and everyone present turned their gazes to Desert Viper. Shaddat smiled politely and said:

"Your words intrigue me, honorable Asal-Ghuri. May I ask what advantage we can gain by missing such a good moment to attack?"

"In a very direct line, most honorable Shaddat-Ilkhan. As much as I detest the despicable northerners, the Hellspawn is far worse. If they succeed in breaking the defenders of the stolen capital of our enemies, their power and influence will increase manifold. So much that I dread to imagine. And then we will be threatened as well. And the children of the Great Desert have enough enemies as it is."

There was silence in the room. Everyone tensely considered Desert Viper's words, and she continued her speech:

"Besides, if we strike now, a lot of people might believe we're involved in the kidnapping. In which case, instead of one very much weakened enemy, we'd have a war with an entire coalition. An ally of the devils is an enemy to anyone with any intelligence. On top of that, our enemies can be directly sided by their heavenly patrons. Therefore, Honorable Shaddat-Ilhan, I suggest we let the despicable save their worthless ruler for now. Let's wait to see how this plays out. If they succeed, their losses will be enormous, and our chances of winning the war will be more than great. If they fail, we'll need all our strength for another enemy. I ask you to consider my words, most honorable Shaddat-Ilkhan."

The silence in the room became very tense, broken only by the merrily gurgling fountains. Everyone in the room was thinking and weighing Asal's words carefully, including Shaddat. The snake's words certainly made sense. When he had learned the Northmen had lost the entire capital along with their thrice-cursed ruler, may the sands cover his legacy, he had not believed the reports at first. There was no such luck. Especially since not so long ago, those scum had very successfully managed to kill one of his best seers with all of his students. A very sneaky and very skillfully conducted attack, obviously prepared for more than one year, and deprived him of the ability to receive intelligence from the north quickly enough and in the right amount. To compensate for this loss, he had to step on the throat of his greed and use up his carefully accumulated supply of Desert Dhurman. But then the news of the Eternal's disappearance was confirmed, and the timing of the attack seemed perfect. He was ready to order an immediate attack, but he decided to gather as many forces as he could. Now he had the opportunity to finish off the damned Northmen once and for all. And for this purpose, he called all his infinitely loyal vassals so none of them could turn away from the general campaign under some plausible pretext. And now it appears that an immediate offensive may not be such a good idea. Asal-Ghuri's mind is a good one. After considering her words, Shaddat spoke slowly.

"There is a good deal of wisdom in your words, honorable Asal-Ghuri. Indeed, going to war against the Northmen right now may not be the best idea. Postpone the attack until the fate of their capital and worthless ruler is sealed. But when it's clear how things ended, our troops must be ready. All our troops, down to the last soldier..."

Further discussion dragged on into the evening. In the end, Shaddat still managed to press his vassals to put up as many warriors as possible. To say that it was not easy is to say nothing. Behind the exceptionally polite speeches were veiled bargaining and exchange of threats and promises. All this exhausted him more than any other battle, though Ilkhan's appearance did not show it. The meeting was over, and the guests, most of whom he would have gladly put on the altar of sacrifice at that moment, left his palace.

* * *

Shaddat beckoned briefly. The whole day had tired him so much that he had decided not to go to his private chambers. His personally selected guards, his closest retinue, and his trusted servants understood their lord's will without words. Less than a hundred heartbeats later, a huge massage table and an enchanted and sealed chest with special body care products were brought directly to the same room. The servants also brought several golden dishes filled with fruits, various meats, vegetables, and fish, as well as a couple of jugs of wine. Separately, they brought several dishes filled with various sweets, for which Shaddat had had a weakness since childhood. Ilkhan's bodyguards checked the food several times with special search artifacts and two powerful spirits that could sense the slightest traces of poison or impurities in the food. Once they were sure that there was no danger, the bodyguards once again checked the entire room separately, bowed to their master, and, together with the servants and attendants, left Ilkhan, who wished to be alone. As soon as the massive doors closed behind them, Shaddat activated the room's defenses with his special ring, bringing them to maximum power. Three different barriers immediately appeared around him, and the sets of protective amulets hidden beneath his clothes heated up noticeably as they went into active mode. Several waves of scanning and searching charms of various types swept through the room, carefully searching for the slightest "accidentally" forgotten gifts, as well as any traces of poison or other magical nastiness in the food or on the dishes.

The full inspection took nearly ten minutes, during which Shaddat didn't even move, only glanced tensely around the room. Only after he was satisfied that there was no threat did Ilkhan let himself exhale, and leaned back on his floating carpet, putting his defenses into passive mode. At the same instant, part of the room's wall dissolved into thin air, revealing a small room behind it. Two women emerged from there and immediately walked towards Shaddat. One of them was of medium height, with nice roundness in all the right places and generally well-fed, with shoulder-length curly red hair and a pretty face studded with freckles. She was dressed in the red and yellow loose robes worn by the noble daughters of the Great Desert. The only thing was that they were made of the most transparent fabric, which did not hide her alchemically enlarged breasts, her juicy ass, or her noticeably rounded tummy. In her hands, she held a short staff of dark wood inlaid with faintly glowing rubies. An artifact of epic rank, infused with Fire to the fullest. Her numerous golden ornaments were also filled with it to the brim. One of Shaddat's personal Chained, level thirty-six, who had invested almost everything into the main class of the legendary Sizzling.

The second woman was a head taller than Chained, slender but with only slightly smaller breasts and an ass also enlarged by alchemy. She had long wheat-colored hair down to the middle of her back, milky white skin, emerald eyes, and long pointed ears. Unlike her counterpart, she was dressed in tight sand-colored clothes made of light and breathable fabric, which did not prevent him from admiring her form. It was the kind of outfit favored by the children of the Great Desert, who made their living by dagger and poison. In fact, she was holding a pair of curved daggers, and her clothes concealed several sets of poisoned throwing needles and other murder weapons favored by the lurkers. She moved with the graceful grace of a deadly predator, and she was completely silent.

As they approached Shaddat, both women froze, waiting for their master's orders. He opened his eyes, glanced at both of them, lingered on the Chained's rounded belly, then nodded briefly to the elf, pointing to the massage table. She understood him without a word, and in a single movement, she put her daggers away in their sheaths on her belt and immediately began to undress. Shaddat rose to his feet, got off the floating carpet, and headed for the massage table, carelessly throwing off his clothes, which cost more than a successful merchant in the capital earned in a year. The Chained behind him immediately picked up a bowl of sugar-dried fruit brought by the servants, sat down on the vacated carpet, and began to fly leisurely around the room on it, now gliding above the floor, then rising to the ceiling. For some reason, she liked this childish amusement immensely. She'd said it was connected to her favorite children's story, where the main character had a flying carpet, but Shaddat didn't remember the details. Fully undressed, leaving only the rings and finger rings on his hands, he climbed onto the massage table, lay face down, and waited. The sharp-eared slave also had time to undress, but unlike her master, she folded her clothes and weapons in a neat stack and slowly approached, swaying her hips seductively. The only thing she didn't remove was the thin black leather collar with gold rings and plaques bearing Shaddat's insignia. A badge of honor, indicating that the woman in question was a slave of Ilkhan himself and that she was forbidden, on pain of severe punishment, to be touched without permission. The Chained had the same collar around her neck but of white leather, which she considered a very elite and, as it was called in her world, "exclusive" piece of jewelry. In a way, it was. Both women also had their nipples pierced, with massive gold rings. Stopping at the massage table, the elven woman began to retrieve various vials from the chest. Involuntarily, Shaddat marveled at her.

It was a treasure he had inherited from his uncle when the old man had deigned to leave this world and give the throne to his nephew. She had been captured over two hundred years ago as a result of a clever plot by the then Ilkhan, which had cost elves several valuable recruited agents and the uncovering of an entire fighting group that had been forced to flee the Great Desert. She, on the other hand, either failed to retreat or sacrificed herself on purpose, giving her comrades a chance to escape. Knowing the ears' selfishness, likely the former. Either way, she didn't have time to cut her life short, or she didn't dare to. As a result, she was captured. The skillful lurker and an elf were taken with great care to the heart of the Great Desert, where the best Architects of Mind took care of her. The then Ilkhan, who was Shaddat's great-grandfather, wanted more than just another toy for his harem. He demanded that the new slave must retain all her skills and abilities to be useful to her master as a bodyguard. It was not an easy task, but it was not without reason that the Architects of Mind of the Great Desert were renowned for their skill and craftsmanship throughout the continent. From then on, the ever-young concubine, well-trained in the art of lovemaking, was inherited from one Ilkhan to another. After all, there are enough ear-slaves in Khan's harems to the eternal spite of their kin. But those capable not only of pleasing their lord but also of protecting him in case of a threat are vanishingly few. And Sahilya, as Shaddat called her, was just such a slave.

At least one attempt on Ilkhan's life, the odds of which were unpleasantly high, had been thwarted thanks to her. Since then, Shaddat preferred to keep the useful, utterly loyal, and obedient slave girl with him at all times. Her loyalty was guaranteed not only by the tried and tested skill of the Architects of Mind but also by the intricate pattern of tattoos in the form of chains and calligraphic ligatures on her white skin. Executed by the Grand Master of Tattooing with very rare grades, they served as shackles and armor at the same time. On the one hand, they tied the eared woman to her master and did not allow her to physically go against him. On the other hand, they served as a very good magical protection for the elf. Very complex and rare art, requiring great skill and very expensive materials for tattooing, but it paid for itself completely.

While Shaddat was admiring his concubine, she took everything she needed out of the chest, tied her long hair into a bundle, and then, taking a silver bowl, began pouring various fragrant oils into it and mixing them. Once she had the mixture she wanted, she poured it generously on her chest, rubbed it with a few strokes, and then climbed onto the massage table in one graceful motion. A moment later, Shaddat felt a woman's large, firm breasts rubbing the fragrant oil against his back. Covering his eyes, he exhaled quietly from the of pleasure. Grand Master of Erotic Massage was a skill highly prized by harem owners for obvious reasons. Ilhan squeezed his eyes shut in pleasure as he felt the elf's tits rubbing against his body. And not just rubbing but combining it with a massage. Shaddat literally felt how, with every touch of the elf's body, which was diligently rubbing fragrant oil into him not only with her breasts but with all parts of her body, his fatigue, and irritation after a hard day left him. Instead, in him awakened desire and passion. Soon, he rolled over onto his back, ready to fight. Sahilya instantly grasped her master's desire and immediately, in one deft movement, mounted his fighter, guiding him into a cunt lubricated with fragrant oils and love juices.

With a satisfied grunt, Shaddat made himself comfortable, letting the slave do the rest. She made herself comfortable for a few moments and began to move her hips slowly, gradually increasing the pace. He only admired her mesmerizingly jiggling breasts, enjoying the buttery silkiness of her skin and the tightness of her cunt. In the light of the magical lamps, her oil-white body glistened with oil and looked especially seductive. He reached the peak of his pleasure offensively quickly, pouring himself into her womb. It seemed the tension of the last few weeks had taken its toll when there had been little time for normal harem visits. There was no time for anything but the future war. Pausing for breath, Shaddat reached out and picked up the long-eared slave girl by her nipple ring and pulled her to him, pressing his face into the woman's breasts, inhaling the mixture of the scents of her skin, sweat, and fragrant oils. Tickling Sahilya with his beard, Shaddat gave her a playful laugh. Smiling contentedly, he played with the elf's breasts some more, squeezing the firm flesh and twisting her nipples by their rings before pulling back, admiring her magnificent body. His gaze lingered on the slave girl's flat tummy, and the mood immediately soured. Before she'd gone into the Leaf Drop, or whatever the Ears called their lurkers, Sahilya had performed a ritual on herself that made her infertile. It was something Shaddat knew only a few of them dared to do, of those elven women who risked captivity and slavery to avoid giving birth to half-breeds by their future masters. To Shaddat's great regret, even the best healers he'd hired only parted their hands. No, there were ways to restore her fertility, but they required so many resources and costs that one slave, even a beloved one, was not worth it. That was a shame because Ilkhan found pregnant women particularly attractive. For some reason, in this state, they aroused his passion much more than in a normal state.

In general, Shaddat, as well as any Khan, had enough children, but with suitable heirs, it was not easy. At first, he staked on two older sons from the first wife, but both offspring, despite all his efforts, managed to get rid of each other, not without the help of some of Shaddat's rivals, from which he was ready to tear his beard. The unknown enemy had managed to give each of them one component of a very tricky poison, each of which was perfectly safe on its own and very difficult to detect. And which they safely poured into the drink at one of the feasts. Then they each took the antidote, which was a third component, raised a glass to each other's health, drank, and almost immediately both died. Neither protective amulets nor healing alchemy helped. And the most disgusting thing was that the one who had organized the assassination attempt was able to cover him so cleverly from all kinds of seers that the danger they sensed only at the moment when both of Shaddat's sons fell to the floor with blue faces.

Another son, already by his second official wife, had to be sent to the scaffold. The puppy thought himself to be the cleverest, but as a result, he only allowed himself to be drawn into a court intrigue aimed at an assassination attempt on Shaddat. This could be forgiven as foolishness, but during the investigation, it turned out the son had quickly guessed who was the ultimate target of the intrigue but did not even think to warn his father. Such a thing could not be forgiven. There were also a couple of sons from the third wife. Each could be suitable for the role of heir in the future, but so far, they were not very successful, especially against the background of the children of the first wife. At times like this, Shaddat always envied the damned Eternals whose blood prevented them from physically raising their hands against each other. If his family had been the same, it would have saved him a lot of trouble. On the other hand, he wouldn't be Ilkhan himself. He had managed to get rid of his favorite uncle and three cousins, as well as their mother, a renowned master of posthumous curses.

It was because of the problems with a possible heir that he was concerned about another backup. Shaddah's eyes slanted downward to find his Chained, who continued to fly around the room on the carpet with her legs wiggling happily and eating dried fruit. At the sight of her rounded tummy, he felt his desire growing again. With a sign to Sahilya to get down, he gestured for Chained to come to him. She instantly understood and directed the rug towards her master, landing in front of him and immediately beginning to undress. When she was completely naked, Shaddat gently turned her around, pressed her back against him, and ran a broad palm over her round belly, feeling a faint nudge that brought an involuntary smile to his face. He stroked her voluminous belly a few more times and then moved his palms upward to caress her large breasts, causing her to purr contentedly. He helped her onto the table facing him and laid her on her back, putting her legs over his shoulders. He then took the bowl of mixed oils the elfess had prepared and poured it over Chained's lower lips. Smearing it properly with his cock, he gently entered her, eliciting a satisfied moan. Then, gripping her legs tighter, he began to gently move his hips. She was no ordinary concubine slave (though how could Ilkhan have an 'ordinary' slave?) who could be fucked without restraint, even if she was in her last month. It's worth being careful, especially since Jasmina, as Chained called herself after her summon, is carrying a possible heir under her heart.

To keep the eared one busy while Shaddat was busy with her friend, he gestured to a small silver jug full of sweet flower syrup. Sahilya knew her lord's habits well and understood without a word. Going to fetch the jug, she returned to the table where Jasmin was moaning. After pausing for a few seconds, Shaddat generously poured the sweet dark amber delicacy over Chained's breasts, neck, and face and then wished her a pleasant dinner. She modestly thanked her master, who continued to gently move her hips and began to lick her friend diligently with her tongue. She paid particular attention to the redhead's breasts, sucking them thoroughly, which made Jasmin moan even louder. In general, Chained was not initially interested in women, but Shaddat, who liked to watch the concubines' girlish games, had convinced her otherwise. Now, she took the elf by a tight lock of hair and carefully guided it over her body.

Despite the slow pace, Shaddat soon reached the peak of pleasure again. Enjoying the tightness and warmth, he slowly pulled away from his mistresses. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Shaddat went to the table where the servants had laid out the food he had brought, poured himself a full bowl of barely warm tea, and began to drink it greedily, keeping his eyes on his concubines. Long-eared had already licked Jasmin almost completely clean, and now they switched roles. Seated on the table, the elf spread her legs wide and Chained generously poured syrup on her lower lips and belly, which she immediately began to lick. The sight was quite arousing, and Shaddat smiled contentedly. It was still fun to make them think the best dishes to savor were each other's naked bodies. Taking a few more sips of tea, Shaddat took the dried fruit Amina hadn't eaten and began to put it in his mouth, watching the eared one moaning and the shackled one chomping at the bit. When he had finished the dried fruit, he wiped his hands on his robe and went to the concubines, who had already licked all the syrup off each other and were just kissing, lying on their sides, and caressing each other. Shaddat gave Sahilya a resounding smack and waited until she climbed off the table, rested her arms on it, and spread her firm ass. After rubbing her buttocks firmly and giving her a couple more slaps that left red marks on her white skin, Ilhan poured the rest of the fragrant oil mixture between them and then entered her ass without ceremony, eliciting a loud moan of pleasure. Almost immediately, Jamin interrupted her mouth with a kiss and began to caress her breasts.

With the elf, he could not hold back, which Shaddat did not do. Especially since some roughness in bed with the once-proud Daughter of the Stars had always turned him on. Holding her waist tightly, he picked up a very fast pace, then left her ass completely, then thrusting his cock in and out. If Long-eared's mouth hadn't been gagged by Chained's tongue, she would have moaned at the top of her voice. This time Shaddat held himself back as long as possible, and by the time he had poured into the elf's ass, she was soaking wet, and so was he. Growling, Shaddat rolled onto his back, breathing hard and clutching the elf's breasts with his hands. She clutched at the table with all her might to keep from collapsing under his weight on top of her friend. If she hadn't been high enough, she would hardly have been able to bear the weight of her lord. Shaddat, on the other hand, picked up Sahilya's nipple rings, twisted them, and simultaneously took the tip of the long nub into his mouth, beginning to suckle it. The trigger planted in the slave's mind went off instantly, and the elven girl moaned loudly and cummed violently, wetting herself on the floor immediately afterward. With a chuckle, Shaddat gave the shivering slave another slap to her lower back, causing her to collapse into the arms of Jasmin, who was sitting on the table.

"You wretch, you have stained the floors of my palace! You should be punished for this!"

"Please forgive your foolish slave, my master. I will gladly accept any punishment to atone for my guilt," She whispered, slowly coming to her senses.

"Well then, I am merciful today and will not be too harsh on you. I think I know what kind of punishment would be just right for you."

With these words, Shaddat picked up his robe and pulled from an inner pocket two small gold chains enchanted to be strong and sturdy. He turned the long-eared slave to face him and held them out to her:

"You know what to do."

"Yes, Master!"

Even though she was covered in oil, Sahilya quickly hooked the chains to the rings threaded through her nipples, then hooked them to the common ring on her collar. Because of their short length, they lifted the tits of the long-eared woman greatly, pulling them back behind her nipples. Finished with the chains, she froze in place, looking faithfully at her master. She looked extremely funny and seductive at the same time. At least in Shaddat's opinion.

"Don't take them off until dawn. Tonight, you guard my sleep. And wipe up the floor you've stained!"

"Yes, Master."

Leaving Long-eared to mop the floor on all fours, Shaddat snuggled with the Chained and lay down on the mountain of pillows, hopelessly smeared it with oil. He didn't care, though. Ilkhan could afford more than that. With a snap of his fingers, he dimmed the magical lights, plunging the room into semi-darkness. He put his arm around Amina, who was snuggled against him, and placed his hand on her stomach and then on her breast, playing with the ring threaded through her nipple. Soon, they fell asleep, and the elf who had finished mopping the floor, still naked and glistening with oil, began to walk silently around them, glancing around the room. Except she put on her numerous slings, harnesses, and belt with daggers. In this way, naked, with weapons and her tits hanging up because of the chains, she spent the rest of the morning. Just before dawn, she stood still for a few moments as if remembering something. She stood still for a couple of seconds, blinking her emerald eyes frequently and looking nowhere. Then she shook her head and continued to carry her guard until Shaddat, awakened shortly after dawn, graciously allowed her to remove the chains that made her breasts and nipples burn with fire. But not before satisfying his morning desire with her, with which he was perfectly content.

* * *

That same day, shortly before dawn, quite far from the sands of the Great Desert, in the heart of one of the oldest forests on the continent, in a part of it that most of the forest's inhabitants didn't even know about, and the few that did, didn't tell anyone outsiders, an elven woman opened her eyes. She was lying on a wide comfortable bed, covered with snow-white linen on top of a blanket, wearing a white, long shirt made of thin translucent fabric embroidered with leafy patterns. The same patterns were also on her bed, fashioned from white wood. And which was in a circular room in the center of a huge ritual circle that would have surprised almost any expert with its complexity and size. Beside the bed stood three of her kin, leaning over it with serious faces. One of them, dressed in an emerald robe embroidered with silver foliage patterns, squatted down and whispered something barely audible into the elf's ear. She looked up at the ceiling, blinking rarely, and answered him silently, moving only her lips. The other two elves, also dressed in robes but blue, only silently watched. Outside the ritual circle, there were also three tables on wheels, on which clothes, cosmetics, and breakfast were laid out. Three human maids, with equally blank faces and eyes, wearing identical light-colored clothes, waited at each table without moving for the elf to finally wake up.

Slowly, she began to move, her gaze coming into focus. Finally, blinking again, she opened her eyes wide and exhaled sharply, arching her back. The two elves in blue robes immediately pressed her gently against the bed, but the precaution was unnecessary. After calming her breathing and licking her parched lips, the elfess calmed down and nodded briefly to her kin. They looked at their colleague in the emerald robe and, after receiving an affirmative nod from him, they released the elf, after which all three of them bowed politely to her, turned around, and left the room. She lay on the bed for a few more minutes, stretching gracefully, then got up and carefully stepped barefoot on the painted floor and went to the human maids. They simultaneously curtsied to their mistress and followed her into the next room, where a huge bathhouse full of hot water and special herbs was waiting for her. If Ilhan had seen her now, immersing herself in the warm waters, he would have been very surprised to recognize her as his concubine slave. The same milky white skin, the same long wheaten hair, the same emerald eyes. Except her breasts were only a size two (only by human standards), and her booty was much smaller.

The birth of two children in an Elven family is a very rare event. The toll of the power of the Stars is great and terrible. A rare mother is physically able to bear two children and stay alive. Twin children of the Everliving is a unique phenomenon. Few people knew they even existed. Ziarelle from the House of the Heavenly Tree, the branch of the Azure Petal, the inflorescence of the Unreachable Heights, and her sister Tairel were overjoyed. Thanks to this ignorance, multiplied by paranoid conspiracy, made possible the most complex and jewel-like operation that the Hierarchs of the Secret Grove of the Eternal Forest had been preparing and planning for over four centuries. Twins are always a bond and a very strong one, which gives a lot. In the case of the elves, a great deal. But even one such bond would not be enough to realize what the Hierarchs had planned. It took a full two centuries of intensive, by the standards of elves, training and theoretical education, selection and development of the necessary classes under the guidance of the best masters, and obtaining several very rare titles. Then, there was almost a whole century of field practice. And in the finale, conducting a very complex and extremely resource-consuming ritual. And all this under conditions of maximum possible conspiracy, up to voluntary memory erasure of those involved after they had fulfilled their role. Hardly anyone but the elves could afford to play this long. As the huge efforts paid off only after more than three centuries, after the beginning of the preparation.

When the Alishans had managed to capture one of the Daughters of the Stars two centuries ago, to the delight of the Great Khan, their Slavemancers and Mentalists had thoroughly tested the captive before turning her into a submissive slave. The elf's mind had been carefully opened, despite her desperate resistance, dissected and sifted through as fine a sieve as possible. Yes, they were unable to learn much because some of her memories were protected so that when captured and unable to take her own life, the elven woman would forget them, or they would be distorted, turning into misinformation. It was a shame, but even so, her captors had learned a lot of things, which made life for the Children of the Stars worse, as the Alishans thought. But the most important thing they never learned was that the captive's body was not her but only a skillful copy, a magnificent fake, a near-perfect mold of her mind and essence. So masterfully crafted that even many gods would have been fooled by it. The result of the painstaking work of several masters of Mentalism, Ritualism, and Spiritualism at once, for which each of them received a legendary title. And the real mind and soul of the prisoner were all this time in the body of her sister in one of the secret estates in the Secret Grove.

The risk by the standards of elves was enormous, and in case of failure of the operation, the sisters had to share one body for two until the end of their Eternity, but after all the efforts spent, in their case, it would be quite realistic. But the Stars and the Goddess of Fortune smiled on the elves, and the operation, which lasted for centuries, was a success. At least in the first stage. Alishan masters, having learned everything they could from the captive, turned her into a submissive toy and presented her on a plate to their master. Literally, she was brought to the feet of the Great Khan lying on a huge golden platter, naked, in a slave collar, and ready for anything. The ruler of the Great Desert fully enjoyed his new useful toy. But what neither he nor his cronies noticed was that one day, the submissive slave changed. Just a little, so much so it was almost impossible to notice unless one looked at the moment and knew what to look at. Especially since the change was not external. Thanks to the bond between the two sisters, the mind and soul of the mistress had returned to her body. The mold that had been in it before disappeared, transferring all the memories, and most importantly, its state, to the mistress who had returned to her body. In essence, she had become what the Alishans had turned her into. A submissive and lustful slave. But there was nuance.
ньюанс

With centuries of special training, the right classes, titles, and rituals, she could be brought back into the body of the sister left behind in the distant Secret Grove. Which the kin did four months later. Then, in her sister's body, she returned to her normal state, but with the memory of everything that had happened to her in captivity. Her sister took her place and also changed to the state of a lustful slave. The most complicated mental castling is almost impossible due to the specifics of the necessary conditions, but it allows deceiving the absolute majority of any checks. Whoever decides to dig into the mind or status of the captive elf will find the slavish submission and lust.

The sisters had been living like this for two hundred years, changing every four months and extracting valuable information for their homeland. Today, just today, there was another shift change. Ziarelle, soaking in the bath, leaned back blissfully and closed her eyes, inhaling the aroma of specially selected herbs beneficial to her mental health. Today was the day of rest and recovery she needed after returning to her sister's body. Any physical or mental exertion is strictly contraindicated, under penalty of the most terrible punishment from the Senior Mind Master of the Secret Grove. Only rest, food, and sleep. The next three days will be spent on a full mind check to clean out the slightest residual traces of the slave state of mind. Which unfortunately takes place despite the best efforts of the wise magician and his students. And after that, the curators would be waiting for her, and for at least a week she would have countless reports, reports, and briefings. Maybe even longer. But that would all come later. In the meantime, she could enjoy a hot bath and...

Ziarell didn't have time to finish the thought, suddenly realizing that she had been tweaking her nipples with both hands underwater for several minutes now. She grimaced and stopped her handiwork, wishing the Alishans would perish in their favorite sands for their love of big tits and the tradition of piercing slave girls' nipples with rings for lovemaking and abuse. She made a mental note to report this to the Senior Master of the Mind, then stepped out of the tub, settled into a comfortable reclining chair, and let the maids begin to clean herself up. Four hands gently brushed her long hair while the third rubbed various creams on her mistress with gentle and skillful fingers. Good girls and skillful girls. Then it would be possible as a reward to smear the juicy slit of one of them with maple syrup and...

Ziarell sharply closed her eyes and shook her head, chasing away the damned lustful thoughts that caused a pleasant tingle in her lower abdomen. Gesturing to the maids, she straightened up and closed her eyes, breathing deeply to calm her body and thoughts. Soon, the tried-and-true method bore fruit, and the desire for sex was gone. Nodding to the maids to continue, she leaned back tiredly. The Senior Master of the Mind had more and more work to do every decade. But what wouldn't one do for the good of the Forest?

Just at that moment, her sister was finishing satisfying the morning craving of Shaddat-Ilkhan's.

* * *

Avada Kadavra: Brinar, as usual, remains Brinar. Just when you think it can't get any cooler, he breaks through the ceiling again and shows there's somewhere to go.

Bravo.

brinar1992: Trying to keep up the brand :)

Avada Kadavra: So many thoughts about Alishan hit it right on the mark, but still the canonicity of the omak is quite difficult to confirm.

I'll start with praise, of course.

The images of the Council of Khans, as well as the image of Ilkhan just awesome, great hits in characters. Ilkhan I, perhaps, canonize in full. My character in the same role was very similar, only with a different appearance, and in bed other quirks manifested. The backstory with two heirs, as well as the problems with the kinsmen are also easy to write into the canon. That's how these guys play thrones. And they love, appreciate, and practice the game of thrones - where the Ages centralize around an a priori single family, the Alishans slaughter each other and bleed each other day and night. Oriental passions, everything like in the real world and even cooler.

For this atmosphere of mutual dislike and readiness to kill all compatriots, my special respect with a cherry on top.

brinar1992: I rewrote the Council Scene several times until I came to its final state. It was the most difficult to write.

Avada Kadavra: On the inconsistencies. Perhaps it should be said that this gathering of theirs was represented, for the most part, not by all of Alishan, but by Ilkhan's personal bloc. Those who make up his political wing. Yes, they too dream of themselves in his shoes, but to the rest of the Khans, they prove the necessity of obedience together.

Because Alishan is a very loose formation, it was not for nothing that they spoke about separate oasis-states. Although they react very nervously to any outsider, standing as a united front, there are enough deaf and not deaf corners, where there sit those over whom the power of Ilhan a.k.a. Great Khan, is only formal, which they recognize and all that, but let you, Ilhan, do not test my boundless loyalty too much.

Many of the personalities I have planned belong to just such personalities who are not present at the Small Council. I even know roughly who of my personalities to put in the place of the Lady in Robe.

brinar1992: Actually, the first version of the scene was just Ilkhan's meeting with close Viziers. But then I thought that taking into account the specifics of Alishan, they should not be courtiers but infinitely loyal vassals who should be gathered for a common cause with the help of stick and carrot. And they should be beaten with the latter as well.

Avada Kadavra: Templemistress and supreme leader of many Death cults that supply the world with the best assassin-saboteurs on the surface, next to whom elves sometimes look pale. It was mentioned in the Rooleim Interlude that the elves are good at killing quietly, but the Tia vs. Second Prince-style massacre is just for Alishan.

Granny is the kind of woman who is closer to Weaver than to humans. It's unclear how much of the human is left there. It's unclear if this is the same granny who was young and has been young for fuck knows how many generations, who once came to the first Ilkhan, who had only just made him forcefully recognize his power by offering him and the newborn Alishan her service.

She doesn't get involved in politics unless her privileges, her fucking privileges, just fucking privileges, are attempted to be shaken. And the first Ilhan was very generous, terribly generous! You'll be generous when they come to you at night, through all the guards, cut out your heart, put it back in, heal you at the highest level, and then start haggling.

At first, of course, he was preparing to punish the beautiful bitch (she alternated between the appearance of an old woman and a young beauty, and it was unclear which of them was more real), but she was really very useful and amazingly faithful in the conditions of that shitstorm when Alishan was still just getting on its feet. Everything was postponed and postponed, but he never took revenge, and then the heirs did not interfere too much - and if they did, she could repeat the procedure with the new Ilkhan.

Her abilities are unclear, but her temples train some pretty fuckin' good specialists who fear her more than any torture, almost never betraying her or agreeing to snitch on her. There are all sorts of things that happen, but she is careful to keep her reputation - students who betray her trust quickly part their lives

One thing is certain - she has dominion over the End of Life and the Appearance of Death, can kill and resurrect, but more, of course, to kill.

Personally, she doesn't get involved in wars, doesn't take orders, and, in general, is a disinterested person of pure nature.

brinar1992: What a colorful lady! My idea when creating her image was much simpler. A granny who sold everything she could to the Darkness, about whom no one knows for sure whether she is a full-fledged creature or not. Since none of those who saw the face of her did not remain alive.

Avada Kadavra: Now regarding caveats.

Alishan and the Great Desert are different things, alas. Although a considerable part of Alishan is located in that desert, but not in the Great Desert because there lives something regularly try out Alishan for toughness.

In general, the Ilkhans have long considered the GD their fiefdom, as have the Tomb Kings, whose, ha-ha, tombs are located deep in that Desert, along with the Oases of Amun.

And their borders overlap a lot - each state occupies a lot of "foreign" territory. This buffer, to which both powers equally claim, is one of the biggest wild meat grinders in the world. People extract the rarest reagents: metals, herbs, plants, the same Desert Dust, and many similar wonders. People explore ancient ruins, which even now under the sands are still a lot of undiscovered, and those that have long been discovered many are not fully looted. And the undead, as well as the security systems of the ruins, destroy and oppress trespassers.

The Kings could beat people out completely and regularly do so when they get impudent, but it is very difficult for them to go beyond the GD, which is the most ruinous piece of desert in the world. They have to literally drag the GD with them. But when they do, Alishan gets sad, and Ages gets happy. The rest of the time, they ignore the humans contemptuously, using them as a place to gather fresh bodies and test new undead.

So Alishan and his sons are children of the Desert and Steppes but not of the Great Desert. Her children are long dead, and they are not bothered by it.

brinar1992: Actually, I rather wanted to show Shaddat's inflated ego here. In the sense that, we are the real masters of the GD, and the others have not realized it yet, due to weakness of mind. Yes, that's right, and not because we can't slaughter their undead hordes, everyone understands?! :)

Avada Kadavra: And yes.

The attack on the Empire discussed in the omake has its place, as well as the result of the discussion - they haven't attacked yet, they are waiting, they are afraid of getting the whole world's attention, and waiting for a favorable moment. But this is only for now because there was previously described a little moment in the previous chapters, which will say it is weighty bonk.

Next.

Kostya, of course, had tried hard when he had knocked out that Circle of Seers with the madness of the mirrors, but it was one of the strongest and most loyal, but not the strongest, the only coolest at Alishan's disposal. It might be the most loyal of those at Ilkhan's disposal, but he must have others of comparable awesomeness. And even cooler, but not so loyal, which is too early to invite to such meetings.

brinar1992: Exactly. I was referring to the spare circle of personal seers of Ilkhan. Since it is not reasonable to trust state secrets to people who are not absolutely loyal to you.

Avada Kadavra: And of course, the elf trick.

It's a classic "Yes and No."

A hundred percent hit on the twin bonding and soul bonding issue. It's really very accurate, as well as the possibility of using such a trick, which the elves used.

But would it have worked? Alishan brainiacs are really the strongest on the continent, if not on the surface at all. Maybe there are masters of comparable caliber in the Island Principalities, and individuals like the disciples of HK or organizations of his/her followers (the recently discussed Guild of Bimbofmancers) should be taken into account.

But there are few cooler than Alishan in slave breaking.

And they're also fucking witch doctors and masters of working with souls, among other things - it doesn't mean that they'd be guaranteed to notice the setup and understand its nature. But the risk of that would be over 76 percent, and so the elf would not have been sent on such a suicidal mission ever.

If they were Drow, then there's no question, it's their style of intrigue - and soul magic, and native blood in the basis of the ritual, and other joys. But for the elves, it's not that it's the absolute Erebor, but it's clearly a little more than just on the edge. And such a connection can be used in the opposite direction, because the masters of witchcraft are, pun intended, masters of it.

In theory, what is described in the omake is possible.

But I can't canonize it. Because it's too much for elves - it's still possible to outplay Alishan not only in the field of intrigue but also in terms of working with souls. It is also possible to be forced to ask the Daughters of the Stars to make such a sacrifice. It is also possible to succeed without getting caught in such a long time.

It's possible.

But if I canonically give the elves such a trump card, I'll have to redo half of the power play on the fly, so I'm not canonizing the elf intrigue part. I apologize if I offended your work, Brinar.

brinar1992: Not offended in any way. I myself now realize that Ilkhan of Alishan is too fat a target.

Avada Kadavra: Thanks for the awesome omake, which is fucking awesome to a fucking degree anyway.

brinar1992: In general, the original idea was to describe an elven agent who, under the cover of a submissive sex slave with a brainwashed brain, collects information and then tediously and mundanely writes reports to her superiors. And that's what it turned out to be.