Feb. 13th Challenge Betrayal

[Tehya]

There are all types of Betrayal, either combat, emotions, or disobedience. I am sure all of you have your own definition in art form and words.

This weeks challenge is on the word Betrayal in any way you can write about it, or create art based on it.

[mozenwrathe]

And The Heart Is Hard To Swallow
by Indukanta Galfujga, ally of Neelkamala D'aari

Have I know people who have used the gods as a way to maintain power, or convince another what they have done was right. One of these was a shaman in my old village named Rotcev Lausiv. He was very handsome for the Four-Colour Waterfall, and knew it. He was also very good at talking to others in ways that would make them feel great about themselves. Most of the tribe knew all that well that Rotcev was not the most attuned of the spirit-talkers in our village, but they would go to him first rather than Old Wise Aditya Sunshower or her daughter Biryla Moonrain. His winning smile and smooth voice would always draw people to his side.

When I was just growing into womanhood, I found myself attracted to Rotcev much like many other young women in the village. I ignored it, however, preferring to work on my hunting and fishing. I was determined to follow in the path of my own mother - one of the best catchers of salmon and pike in the village. Though one night I overheard quiet talking close to my mother's tent. Creeping to the edge of the tent from the inside, I made sure that my shadow form could not be seen at the outside of the tent by remaining low to earth. The voices were of men - Rotcev and at least three others whom I could not recognize. The scorn and hatred I heard in the voice of Rotcev was more terrifying to me than when I saw my first wounded wolf. I was frozen to where I was, afraid that somehow he could sense my presence within my mother's tent. He spoke of how Old Wise Aditya was "in his way", and how with her and her daughter gone could he easily become the most powerful man of the Four-Colour Waterfall tribe.

The next day, it seemed that in the night Old Wise Aditya and her daughter had been taken. Blood had been splattered all over their tent, and knives had cut through the leather and fur used to make it. Kidnapped by a rival tribe in the dead of night, somehow they had made it past those who keep watch over our village. Rotcev was filled with woe and rage about how something like this could have happened, screaming for our tribe to hunt down their kidnappers and make them pay. A warhost was soon gathered, and they were sent out in the direction that Rotcev gave them. My uncle and my two cousins originally were going to go with them, but they noticed my trembling whenever I looked in Rotcev's direction. They told me to be brave and strong like my mother, and then left in a different direction.

It would be four days before Old Wise Aditya was found. She had been raped and savaged, apparently by wolven. They were enemies of my tribe for years before my birth, and it would not be assumed any others had done such to her. Her body had been half buried, and defiled further, those who had attacked her covering her with their seed. By the time the warhost found her, she had already gone to become part of the ancestral host, giving her wisdom to the spirits who guide us all. Of course, Rotcev himself insisted on doing the ceremonies of fire and earth, keeping those he had always held personal council with close to his side during the two days of prayers and preparation. Every so often, Rotcev would look in the direction of myself and my best friend Nidar'iria and give us a thoughtful stare. Nidar'iria believed he would favour us when it game to ceremonial rites and was quietly pleased. I, however, knew far better. Especially as one of Rotcev's cronies had always looked on at my friend with ill-hidden lusts.

On the night of the ceremony itself, Rotcev was pronounced lead shaman for the Four-Colour Waterfall tribe. As Old Wise Aditya's body burned behind him, he declared himself a true follower of the older ways, and would promise to restore our tribe to glory. His words sounded so gracious and glorious, I was almost swayed by them. Though whenever he would look at my friend and I again, that gleam of utter wickedness shone through. Just before he called for whom he would take as assistants, three arrows with blood-stained pigeon feathers landed at his feet. My uncle and cousins had returned, a badly beaten and shaken Biryla Moonrain with them. In her hoarse voice, she did call Rotcev out for his treachery and his personal involvement in the raping and slaying of her mother. Rotcev had been both the first and the last to take Old Wise Aditya, insisting that it was Aden'Ver himself who gave him the right to crush the bloodline.

The ceremony was in an uproar, and many called for combat between the accused and the accuser to settle things. Of course, it would be Rotcev's own people who decried Biryla's claim and demanded that such be dealt with in the old ways. Ways that would clearly favour Rotcev, as he was taller and stronger. Yet did Biryla not once flinch at the vicious words or the cries, bareing herself naked before all with only a length of hemp rope attached to a heavy stone. Rotcev, sneering at Biryla and calling her a worthless camp-whore of a vulpani, removed his own robes and drew a vicious looking blade. (Amongst our tribe, calling someone vulpani or wolven were as good as cursive words.) As Rotcev rushed the clearly bruised and unsteady Biryla, did I see something amazing. Biryla spun swiftly and summoned the stone to her hand with but a word. She then used it to strike out at Rotcev just steps before he would have gutted her like a fish.

It was like something from the storyteller's songs and speeches. Biryla's use of the hemp rope and stone was something to be feared. Attacking both shallow and deep, she never once allowed Rotcev to touch her with his blade. Eventually, Biryla wrapped the hemp around Rotcev's neck and arms, binding him tight. Then with his own curved sword, was he beheaded before the whole tribe - vengeance being claimed and his blood feeding the flames. Biryla had now become head shaman of my tribe, but at the cost of her mother. It would not be until later that I would be told the rest by my cousins. (They caught a beating from my uncle and my father afterwards, as what I was told was not to be shared to anyone.)

Something that none were ever to know was Biryla herself had wanted to be lead shaman, but had been content to wait until her mother had passed her judgment. Biryla had been Rotcev's lover, but Rotcev had been spreading himself around the tribe indiscriminately. He and his two closest companions from childhood had been disgusted at how the tribe had been spiritually guided by women, whom they all saw as weak and suitable only for warming furs and cooking meals. Their plan had been a sound one, convincing people to slowly do little things here and there that would eventually give the three of them the opportunity to remove Old Wise Aditya. Rotcev had "given" Biryla as payment to his friends for them to enjoy as a sex slave and then sell later on. My uncle had known of where Rotcev and his friends would always go to enjoy the slaves of the tribe, as few ever stopped them as long as the slaves were returned in good condition. The bodies of Aper'gpui and Relluem were never found, presumably in the belly of some bear or wolves.

This is how I learned to not place all of one's faith in any man - especially the handsome ones. Their hearts may be as ugly as offal and harder than steel inside a well-formed chest.

[Tehya]

As always enjoyed your story very much.

[Eraelabryn]

[Tehya]

Quantra's Betrayal

It was a typical day for the man most women would die to be in his harem. One in particular enjoyed more than sexual situations with him, but his mind. He was the infamous bard named Sven, and he used his bard skills to capture his slaves and lovers. They were fascinated in his songs and words and when he collected ten slaves he bought a very lavish home for them. He became quite fixated on sex. Such a shame Sven was a very intelligent man, and days went by where his ten slaves satisfied his every need, but the third slave he had collared was growing bored with him.

Her name was Quantra and she was exotic, dark hair, with an olive complexion, nice pert breasts, and a cute behind, but the longest dark brown hair with ginger highlights. That was her most beautiful feature and he loved stroking her hair when they met while reciting poems to her or telling her stories. Sven always sought her out in private, but the others he would have three or four at a time tend to his desires.

More and more each day Quantra watched him, and she wasn’t a jealous slave, but was losing her desire to be with the grunting humping bard, who had lost what she viewed his intelligence. He had fascinated her, more than a cock in pleasure and he was becoming boorish to her. The only way she could distance herself from the situation was to escape, and that was unlikely.

Sven was a handsome man long silver hair, a high elf who knew how to dress proper and accentuate his looks with well made clothing. He had asked Quantra to lay out his clothes for the next day, and she looked at his closet, her mind going over how to be free of her collar.

The scent of sex was the only thing filling his room lately, and the books he had read to her were all stacked on the shelves never being used. If he wasn’t sucking on tits and being sucked on from his harem, the man didn’t seem interested in his craft anymore. Quantra felt quite sickened from it until that fateful night.

While he was fixated on sex, she read a book on herbs and poisons, really quite interested since she was an alchemist. He had supplied her with a lab to work in, since Quantra was one of his most gifted slaves. She had found a substance that worked through fabrics and the poison she mixed when powdered over the fabric would seep into the skin and within weeks with daily doses the person would die. Yes many rabbits were practiced upon. Who would think a beautiful flower in the woods named monkshood would become her key to freedom.

The moans of lust in the room next to her and the slaves screaming in pleasure only led her to hear his grunts and moans, a man that was so well spoken, such a waste. But every night he asked her to lay out his clothes for the next day, and every night she powdered his pants with a smile. Claiming the powder was lightly sprinkled inside not to chafe his throbbing pleasure giver, and Sven thanked her.

It was a quick death a matter of days really, the slaves gathered around him laid out upon the bed where he was profusely sweating. He reached out to them to gather around them, fingers fondling one large titted slave, but his handsome face was beginning to show the telltale signs of the poison. They tended him thinking he had a severe case of exposure. First he would sweat profusely, then soon convulsions made him writhe upon the sheets, such a sweet death to Quantra’s master, for she watched him those final days, almost pitying his lack of sensitivity while the man’s face contorted in pain. It is whispered he died while fondling a slave, cock up, with a twisted smile on his face.

Quantra smirked when he became still the sweet smile of betrayal on her lovely lipsl. There was no benefactor to take over his slaves, and they were all set free. Quantra marked his gravestone with her last goodbye.

“To lose one’s sensitivity, is to lose one’s mind.”

She is known to this day to be one of the most skilled alchemists, and shares her home and lab, with a new love. Kento; also a bard knows that without words or the sharing of minds, he would lose Quantra in a matter of seconds. That didn’t matter to him, the expression in those chocolate colored eyes when he read to her or recited, was a gift indeed.

Tehya

[Shogeton]

The Great Betrayal

It was a grand day in the Great Kingdom. But then, all of them had been. Each day, new wonders were created. There was no death, sickness or war. The Divine siblings Kiroaja and Sheara flew among their people, and all was kept in harmony. Food grew freely from the trees in ample amounts, fresh, pure water sprung plentifully from brooks. The weather changed with the moods of the gods, but was always kind. In the middle of The Great Kingdom was a Grand Palace, with two thrones.

One a bluff, a Chirot girl was laying, her bare body pale as the moon, leathery wings splayed out lazily and drinking in the sun. The only thing she wore a small stone amulet. A shadow fell on her face as a white feathered figure flew before the sun, landing lightly on the grass next to her. The figure somewhat taller, bronzed with brown hair and beautiful white feathered wings. She too wore a little stone amulet between her somewhat more ample breasts The Chirot jumped up and hugged her, kissing each nipple and then her mouth. "Hah, you're late, Irilia. I was getting bored my love. Did you learn any new things from your father?"

Irilia smiled and embraced her. "Oooh, a thing or two. But they're a surprise." She smiled enigmatically, answering that kiss. "Did you enjoy yourselves, little Lanayla?" She caressed her buttocks.

The Chirot nodded, chuckling. "Oh yes, we've been learning something called music, both with our voices, and with all things. There's so many wondruous sounds to make, and to hear!" She chuckled. "We've been making songs about all the things we love. About Sheara, and the Great Kingdom." She laid her head against the Kiroan's chest. "I'm working on one for you."

Irilia smiled, nodding. "I'll look forward to it. But before that, our Father actually asked us to come and get everyone together. He's worked on something new. Something really special, and he wants everyone to see it. It's in the Throne Room itself."

Lanayla's black eyes grew wide. "The Throne Room? Is this the surprise you've been working on?"

The feathered one chuckled. "Hahah, you'll see, you'll see."

Her lover pouted. "Tease, come on then, let's hurry, or we won't get a good spot to see the surprise." The two of them flew towards the Palace, a grand building that could not be crafted by any mortal hands, but purely by the united Divine Will of the two siblings. The air was thick with the sound of wings of all kinds as they made their way to the palace, and the Throne Room.

"Oooh, unfair." The Chirot said. "You knew this was gonna happen. You've taken all the best spots."

Irilia grinned. "Hm... I'll see about getting you a spot more in front." She flew forward, gesturing at the other Kiroans who looked questioningly at the Chirot flying. But the smile from their fellow Kiroan seemed to reassure them, and gazed at the Thrones themselves, where the two Gods met. The pair hung in mid air, wings flapping. Lanayla looked adoringly at Sheara who was standing there with a smile, patiently waiting, her smile serene and wings folded gracefully on her back. Her skin was as made of purest ivory, her hair black silk. Irilia looked at that smile and grabbed her a bit tighter, then looked to the throne room itself.

Kiroaja stood there as well, radiant his sun kissed body and golden hair and blue eyes that could see all. His arms were folded across his chest, and his lips were opened into a pearly white smile. "Aaah, my children are here. Now, I can show you what I have done, sister." He said, his voice warm and melodious.

Sheara's returned. "We are all eager to see what wonder you have to show the Great Kingdom, brother."

Kiroaja nodded. "Oh, trust me, sister, it will change everything." He riased his hands. "Children, give me power." With that, all the Kiroan started chanting, hands raised towards their god in prayer. Kiroaja moved his hands and spoke words, pointing at the ground under Sheara.

A great Dark Potal opened, and the air itself was sucked out of the Great Kingdom, as a rift was opened in the very realm. Dark tendrils reached from it, binding the Goddess's wigns, tugging at her legs with immense power. Screams sounded from the back of the palace, where the Chirot were, but the masses of feather-winged Kiroan kept them back.Sheara struggled, resisting the spell. She extended a hand, trying to reach for Krioaja. "Brother... your spell... it's..."

Lanayla was frozen, then tried to fly forward to help her, but found Kiroan hands rabbing her hands, and her lover's arm wrapped around her stomach.

Krioaja smiled, nothing kind there now, all the bitter resentment and envy bare in his divine face. "The spell is doing what I wish it to do, sister. What, your loving, adoring Chirot not enough to help you? Don't worry, I'll take good care of them." He gathered more power and struck the figure of his sister in the chest. There was just a surprised cry of betrayal, that pale face, up till now only showing kindness and love, for the first time showing hurt, betrayal and fresh hatred.

And then, she vanished, and the portal closed. There was a silence, the entire Great Kingdom suddenly changing noticeably, even the walls of the palaces becoming lighter, brighter, but colder. Kiroaja turned to the gathered people. "The Great Kingdom, now is only ruled by its king. I, Kiroaja, am the one God. And the first thing I will do is to give my children a precious gift."

Lanayala felt tears fall freely. Never before had the Chirot known any deep suffering, any great loss. The pain tore through her. "no... no, this can't be. No!" Her arms were released, though the brunette Krioan held her arm around her.

"I gift to my children, the Chirot race. They are yours, for all eternity, to do with as you please. Give them pleasure or pain, as is your will. Am I not your loving father, far better than my sister?"

At that, a great cheer rose, and the Kiroan turned on their erstwhile equals, surprising them with binding and painful spells, hunting the distraught Chirot down, dragging them to the ground in an orgy of betryal, violence and enslavement. Some Chirot pleaded, some fled, some tried to fight without any idea of how to do so. But all were brought low.

Lanayla turned to her former lover, who looked at her with those blue eyes. "Please... Please Irilia. Please, you can't do this.... Why... Mother Sheara... please, we have to bring her back, we have to..."

The Kiroan waved with her wings, spoke a word and sharp feathers sliced through the Chirot's wings, causing her to fall low, landing hard on the throne room's ground. "Always you speak of Sheara." She said as she landed near her former lover. "I think you should focus more on me. I don't like to share you with anyone. I think you should adore me like that instead." She stpped forward, her eyes mimicking the jealousy Kiroaja had shown.

The Chirot crawled back, sobbing shaking her head. "How could you, I... I loved you... I...."

Irilia looked down with a brilliant smile and cast another spell, sending first pleasure through her, then another spell to send pain. "You loved me, but not enough. But don't worry. I'll make you love me. I'll make you forget all about Sheara." Another spell, and this time the Chirot found herself forcibly spread-eagled, exposed unwillingly to the woman she had so often made love to before.

"You... Never..." She wept bitterly. "SHEARA!" She cried out loudly and desperately.

The Kiroan crawled on top of her unwilling body, her fingers drawling over it, cruelly manipulating her body. "It'll need some work, but we have all eternity for it. And then you can finish that song about how much you love me."

As one of the first rapes in the Great Kingdom started, blood stained the stone amulet between the Chirot girls' breasts.

...

Shogeton's eyes opened suddenly. His body tense, every muscle tense, the images still flashing through his mind. His hand came up to the amulet he wore. The small stone amulet with the symbol of Sheara carved into it.Squeezing it tightly, then looking as it came back. Blood stained his palm.

He rose from his bed. It was another day in the Great War against the Kiroan. There was still Justice to be done.

[Axios]

we hashed it out,
spoke the knife.
slid blade clean
into back pocket.

there's nothing like the knife
from the front
through ribs,
as you hit the dirt.

i saw that smile
felt the shiv
slide - glistening wet
smooth, unfelt

until the ache later
through tear-struck laughter
resounds
through the drum beats of heart.

[Tehya]

Enjoyed the artwork Byrn and stories Shogeton, Pry, and poem Axios.

Even if the subject changes weekly feel free to keep posting to past subjects like Pry has been doing.

Great work!

[Ehlanna]

Benjamin looked up at the next candidate and gestured at the chair that sat before the large desk, "please, sit and tell me a little of yourself"

"Well sir," the youth said, "I am Alphonse, of clan Seidelberg, eighth in line to the name. And I ..."

Benjamin cut him short with a beetle-browed glare and an imperious gesture, "the Seidelbergs who revolutionised the collecting of honey, those Seidelbergs?"

A small, hesitant nod from Alphonse and a small voice, "yes but ..."

And again the chopping gesture from Benjamin, "and yet you wish to work, with me, as an apiarist?" Ben's voice rose from it's usual gruff tones to a higher, incredulous warble, "what makes you think that I would let you work with my hives and see, and steal, all my secrets? Take them to your thrice damned family." By the time Ben stopped speaking his lips were flecked with saliva, his temples were throbbing and his left eyelid was having a re-occurence of a tic he thought long gone.

Alphonse sat in the face of the rage and with an eloquent shrug and spreading of arms started to answer, "well sir, it's like this - I may be eighth in line but my father would rather my younger sister take the name before me. In fact he has said that he'd prefer the family dog to take the name instead of me. I could have lied about who I was, but that would not be right. And that is part of the reason I am not welcome in the family house. Father does not like the idea of an honest Seidelberg. It was ..."

Benjamin trampled over the beginning of the explantion, "look Alphonse,"

"Call me Al, sir. My father would never do so and I am not fond of my full name."

A soft sigh passed Ben's lips, "right. Alph ... Al. It's this way. You know who I am, you know the competition, the hatred between our families? Why on earth would I hire you?"

Al smiled, "because, sir, I have my families secrets and, when I left, my father, in his rage, omitted to tell me that I was not permitted to use the skills and knowledge I have. I ..." and lifted his hand to forestall the next interruption, "I freely tell you that I cannot, and will not, teach anyone that knowledge or the skills I have from my family. But who can say what others can be learned from observation?"

Being a Seidelberg, the rest of the interview process that covered any existing knowledge of the noble art of bee-keeping was skipped over as being superfluous. Instead it was taken up with a firm discussion of just what duties Al would undertake to prove his fealty to Ben. Finally all was agreed, Al would run his own set of hives, populated from a few of Ben's. Just for a season. Just long enough for them both to be equally unhappy; Al thinking it too long a period and Ben too short. Once the season had passed and no signs of Al stealing secrets or doing anything untoward were found then he would be slowly inducted into the secrets that Ben had; caring for the main hives.

Thus Alphonse Seidelberg started working for Benjamin Kellaryn. Ben, of course, told all his workers and over-seers to keep a careful, and not too obvious, eye upon the youth. After all he had a great secret to protect, one that he was sure the clan Seidelberg would kill for: a new design, with trays that could be pulled easily from the hive, complete with honeycomb and dripping with honey. A method for making the collection of the product much easier and faster.

Days passed and turned into weeks. Weeks became months. All the while Al worked diligently and carefully. He became liked by the staff, much to everyone's surprise. So willing to work was he, such praise and trust he gained from the over-seers, that Ben lifted his almost surreptitious surveillance of him.

Being a careful man, and even with all his staff extolling Al's virtues to the heavens, still Ben was wary. Even so it was with a sad heart that he spotted Al, one dark, moonless night creeping out toward the special hives. Almost he would have made a clean escape had not Ben stopped by Al's room, wishing to discuss a small point about one of the hives. Finding him gone from his room, even if it was not that late, Ben was still uneasy and immediately set out to head for his hives. Not having to skulk too much he made it just moments after Al.

Ben watched Al, barely able to see anything in the dim light from the hooded lantern Al carried. Watched him as he examined the hive. Watched as he worked out what the difference to a normal hive was. Watched as he withdrew a tray and slipped into a sack for easier carrying.

Stepping forward, he asked in a light tone, "so, Al, what are you doing, what do you have there?"

Ben watched as Al flinched in shock before gathering himself, "I was out for a walk, and I thought I heard the bees having problems, so came to check them out."

Ben shook his head slowly in sadness, "no, it's a bee tray, Al."

[Stormbringer]

BOO!!! LOL

[Tehya]

An Ehlanna story *savors*

Sometimes wording you don't forget from a good book or story (beetle-browed glare and an imperious gesture) was an awesome description and enjoyed the story very much.

[Ehlanna]

BOO!!! LOL

Ahhh, I treasure such reactions