There was always tension among neighbouring provinces, often vying for power or control over the other while attempting to hold their own borders intact. These petite nations struggled to gain the favor of others and eliminate the rest, be it with support from the greater powers at play or the fact that the outcome was often already determined. This very same struggle happened on the planet Intuneric-3, the only natural habitable planet in the Intuneric system. This rather small planet was at the moment sectioned into two great blocks, the loyalist block that wished to retain the planet’s independance and the secessionists that desired to enter the ever expanding United Terra Commonwealth. These blocks of nations were of course not without division themselves, composed of factions that differed quite a bit but hand the same goal ultimately. Our story begins on the loyalist city of Cronastad, a very large city located near one of the gigantic oceans on Intuneric-3.

The architecture in Cronastad was made of arches mostly, nearly every building boasting a dome ceiling with tints of orange or rust as coloration. Their streets were wide and, even though the nation was approaching the same technology level that UTC was bringing to the table, it was rather uncommon to see any of the floating vehicles that came with this new era of technology, their cars resembling whirling messes of gears with two pipes spewing out thin lines of steam. Trains wooshes above the streets, spanning the city like lifelines and allowing its residents to get from one place to another with ease. Speaking of residents, it was an all too ubiquitous to spot people wearing brown or dark brown clothing with green undertones, some holding on to tradition and wearing purely dark green, a homage to the once thriving forests within the nation of Cronatis.

Standing as a jewel encrusted in this bronze bracelet of a city was the Magister’s Seat, a large square building with a spiraling and tapered ceiling that ended up resembling a dome, lights strung across it to give quite the spectacle at night, which they now did, standing in defiance to the darkness outside. While impressive on the outside, it was quite magnificent inside as well, composed of many room strung around like the organs of a creature, all catering to certain kinds of events. With thick, furry carpets strung across its cold metal floors and lighting fixtures that gave of gentle, yellow lights in an attempt to resemble candles, the chambers were more than welcoming, especially to the guests at the ball going on at that moment.

Guests from around the loyalist block were invited to this ball, as represented by the rainbow of colors that they wore. Some wore eccentric outfits with extravagant headpieces made of feathers while others strayed from this peacock display and mere wore morose and depressing grey suits, each conversing and having a good time, the main chamber abuzz with idle chatter and laughing. Violins were fighting this chatter for first place in the race to see who would be heard first by a newcomer.

She was there, among them, Ina Isolda, a rather short and petite looking woman wearing a dark brown layered dress with a white shirt. Her brown hair fell down well beyond her shoulders while her face showed no signs of hardship, a pearlescent sight. There were so many guests there at her family’s ball, the tall glass seated between her index and middle finger now focused on by her green eyes. While she pondered what she was doing there exactly, the music changed at the behest of a guest, soon turning into a waltz after a few moments of silence.

“May I?” Were the words that made the woman nearly jump. A large hand wearing a white glove was extended out towards her, this hand belonging to a very tall and somewhat slender man dressed in a black and red suit, a color set that didn’t exactly fit in with most of the outfits that the other guests wore. Most of his sharp face was hidden beneath a black wolf’s mask, his black hair reaching down to his upper back, longer than hers at this point. This invitation to a dance couldn’t go unanswered, now could it? Would it be rude to deny? Then again, it would break the monotony, especially with the rest of the guests too busy and self-absorbed to approach her at this point.

Ina placed the half empty glass of wine she held aside, grasping the man’s hand and giving him a firm not “You may.” While the children of upper class families were trained in pleasantries and were supposed to know how to dance in a manner denoting their origin, this would’ve been the first time she did so in public and with a stranger nonetheless. There was no harm in accepting though, this was a stranger and the others would be too preoccupied to even notice any mistakes she’d make. Her eyes strayed up and down his body before fixating themselves on the man’s masked face, certainly not the worst looking so far either and it wasn’t uncommon for some of the attendees to wear masks.

Seeing as the woman stepped forth and accepted his offer, the masked man stepped back, his hands firmly grasping hers and directing the woman in this waltz, the two making their way to the middle of the chamber. Maybe it was the shadow that the mask cast upon his eyes, but they looked red, a closer inspection revealing two elongated, sharp ears escaping from his luscious mane of black hair. Such mystery did nothing but boil the woman’s curiosity, caught in a trance as the man led the dance and puppeteered her around, swinging the woman and pushing her feet around with his, or at least making it appear so.

Their shoes stepping on the thick carpet left tiny imprints in their wake, these falling prey to the shoes of other guests, the mysterious man staring directly into Ina’s eyes as the waltz picked up in intensity and cadence, for a few moments everyone appearing to be synchronized. The chatter between the guests increased as well, most of the dancers now retreating to the sides for one reason or another, after all, the daughter of the Magister was now dancing, an all too rare sight.

While the two were locked in this dance, the guests started to throw rumors around about the identity of this mysterious man, some saying that he was the son of some influential noble in Cronastad, others proclaiming that he might be some lord from a fringe loyalist state. Be it as it may, the man sure knew how to dance, even if his dance appeared a bit unorthodox and foreign. The woman submitted into his arms for now, soon spun around for one last time before something unspoken of happened, they kissed.

It started with the man’s advances, Ina’s reactions either being too slow or not firing at all, as their lips locked for a moment, his mask lifted slightly for this moment before falling back down to fully cover his face. A loud and echoed gasp roared in the crowd’s, followed by a moment of silence, a great expanse of red displayed on Ina’s face for the time being. How could she have done that? Was it that bad? This man certainly excited her more than she had expected. Without much of a prompt, the woman tightened her grip on his hand and started to run towards the balcony door with him, wishing a more private scene.

He followed suit, the two passing a couple of large, sliding doors and entering a large, open balcony with a view of the city. A cold breeze passed through, a small reminder that it was midnight, or at least around that time. “That was sudden and yet amazing.” The woman said, somehow mustering the energy and courage to say something as they stared into the cityscape for now.

“Indeed it was, madame.” The man replied swiftly, holding onto the balcony with one hand and turning to face the woman. It now became evident that he had quite the accent, almost fumbling those words. Gazing upon the woman at this moment told more about her than before. When not around the inebriated and snobbish guests, she shined through even further, her dress matching her hair perfectly and her eyes like two emeralds encrusted on ivory orbs.

Who was this man? Was he a suitor? Maybe he was the man who would break the monotonous lifestyle she had been locked into due to her upbringing, or maybe he was just a guest who got a bit too courages, the woman taking in the cold air and pushing out “Who are you though?” and staring at him, expecting an answer.

“A messenger.” The man swiftly replied, producing a velvet letter and holding it out, a letter that the woman took hold of soon enough. With this out of the way, the man turned his back at her and simply walked away, drowned in the crowd for now.

It was sad, almost depressing, to think that this person was there to merely deposit a message and then leave. She should’ve stopped him, but something inside kept her from it. There was the issue of the message at hand though, who would’ve send such a man just to get her attention and deliver a message? Opening up the letter unceremoniously with her hand, the woman pulled out a dark red sheet of paper with white writing, quite the contrast making it rather easy to read.

It was an invitation of some sorts, cordially inviting the woman for diplomatic discussions, though the location gave her pause. It was in Castle Iostad, deep within united secessionist land. This was the main landing ground for the United Terra Commonwealth and its influence, could this be a trap? Then again, the man could’ve been an assassin if they wanted her dead. Her father couldn’t know of this, he’d never allow such a meeting, the woman instead deciding that the best course of action was to tell someone stronger than her father, her mentor.

Stepping back into the ballroom had the guests greeting her, but the woman wasn’t there to stay, dashing through the chamber and into the hallway connecting it to the troops quarters. Inside of said quarters the woman laid eyes upon Markus, her mentor. Markus was a man in his late adulthood, a grey mustache and goatee complimenting his short hair and dark brown military coat with several accolades.

“Sir Markus, I have something important to tell you.” The woman said in a stern voice, the letter now crumpled up in her hand, held on tightly by her small hand. Markus would trust her, she was sure of it, but she wasn’t sure if she was in the right at this point. It could lead to both her and Markus ending up in grave danger.

“What is it, child? Shouldn’t you be in the ballroom with the others?” Markus asked, the hardy man now placing down the small book he was reading and eyeing Ina. His index finger still parted the book’s pages, likely because he expected this to not last long or be something too grave.

Her lips parted but words did not want to come out, how would one justify an incursion into enemy territory after so little interaction? Nevertheless, Ina stepped forward and shoved the letter towards Markus, his hand firmly grasping it and pulling it up to his face. His eyes moved from left to right as they read what was written on it. It was indeed a diplomatic invitation, though one aimed personally at the woman rather than any other ambassador or diplomat from Cronatis. The woman looked at him with eyes that said everything there was to say about her decision.

WIth a resigned sigh, Markus folded the letter and handed it back to Ina “So be it, I feel like you’d plead for my presence and aid, something I could never deny.” This was indeed right, as a mentor and someone that cared for his protege far too much, Sir Markus Kurhst would much rather take a bullet for Ina than see her shed a single tear or be put in any kind of discomfort.

“We leave tomorrow morning, I think I know exactly how we can get to the border. Be prepared.” Markus remarked before dismissing her with his hand in a gentle way “I must prepare, as should you, and get a good night’s sleep.” With this said and some kind of a plan in place, Markus went to the stockpile to start preparing for this journey.

Ina slowly made her way towards her room, her fingers dragging alongside the ridged, wooden outlines of the hallway’s walls. Was this the decision she wanted to make? Yes, of course, she wasn’t going to be a caged bird anymore and instead aid in the stability and unity of her country by negotiating with the UTC. Her room was mostly colored green with brown tone the further to the floor one would go, a very thick green carpet attempting to give the illusion of grass while pipes that were strung across the ceiling and the walls almost made it seem like they were branches.

She sunk in her bed after unceremoniously tossing the dress aside, holding the letter tightly to her chest. Had she fallen in love with a messenger? Were all men of the UTC like this? His smell was still present on the letter, being the last thing she inhaled before falling asleep.

Without anything resembling a dream, the woman woke up before dawn, shooting like a bolt out of a crossbow from her bed. Garbed in the outfit she would wear if she went hunting, the woman felt like this would be fitting for such a journey. The Magister’s Seat was deathly silent, likely having fallen into a hangover after last night’s event, Markus awaiting the woman in his chamber by now, dressed in the Cronatis military outfit with just about anything would ever want, from a mug strapped to his belt to canned food draped across the outside of his coat.

After swiftly making their way down the hallways of the Magister’s Seat, they found themselves in the streets of Cronatis. Markus motioned the woman to stay close as the two made their way down the somewhat busy streets of the city, passing the round roofed buildings and slithering past the city’s residents.

“Here we are.” Said Markus after a few more minutes, the two presented with a rather large train station. A cargo train of some sorts was now being loaded by strong men wearing green shirts as well as giant cranes operating around like clockwork. Markus took hold of Ina’s wrist lightly, as if to direct her while they walked past the crowds of walking men and stepped into a large train wagon.

Among a few boxes and sacks, there was more lively cargo, quite a few men, all dressed alike to Markus. “These fine gentlemen will be stationed at an outpost that we’re headed to, alongside enough ammunition to carve out a new cannale in the land.” Markus stated boldly, receiving a hearty welcome from the men in the wagon that they now rode.

A few more minutes later the door closed, light still coming in through the many small windows the wagon had, a loud whistle signaling the train’s departure. It wasn’t going to be a very long trip, the border with the UTC territory not exactly far from Cronastad. It started slowly, but picked up the pace in due time. Until then, time had to be killed, or at least mained and brutalized to help make it pass faster.

From behind a crate, one of the soldiers pulled out a guitar, strumming it idly initially before another one pulled a harmonica from his pocket. These two engaged in a jaunty tune, another soldier now drumming on the side of a crate while a fourth one pointed towards Markus with his chin and said “Sir Markus, care to start us with Our War Mother?” This was an old song veterans knew all too well, most young soldiers having only heard it from their grandparents.

Markus’ rather loud and coarse setting the tune for the others that followed alongside him like a chorus, singing a song about how mothers win wars and then cook stews for their children, with lines mostly set around praising parental figures and taunting the enemies. It was a very fast and cheerful song that riled up the soldiers, this turning into the first of many songs that Ina was a VIP guest at.

Of course, such a concert wasn’t going to last forever, the soldiers calming down, some falling asleep on the sacks and crates around, as did Ina. The ride took a bit longer than expected, but in the end they were finally there. They were now in the border town of Malkinda, a strange mixture of cultures. It barely resembled anything from Cronastad, a few buildings holding true to the Cronatis architecture while others were an amalgam of styles. Something rather concerning soon appearing before them.

There was a barricade that split the town in half, or at least appeared so, people walking freely between the two sides. Cronatis soldiers stationed around artillery guns that towered over the buildings and manning deathly war machines stationed on their side of the town around the barricade while the UTC side seemed to have no military presence.

“The UTC doesn’t care much security, we could likely take the town and they’d not care, something we should do.” Said Markus with a scowl, now passing through the rows of soldiers and weaponry with Ina close to his side. Such a display of force, and for what? But danger could be hidden at any corner, so they decided that it’d be best to make haste.

Once past the barricade, things were different. The place seemed much more technologically advanced, from floating vehicles to the street lights themselves and so forth, all still keeping in with the aesthetic of the region. He was there! And the woman made this fact known by tugging on to Markus’ sleeve and pointing at the tall man standing next to a floating carriage “That’s the messenger!” She almost yelled out.

And wouldn’t you know it, it was him, the man inviting the two in his carriage, the man still wearing the wolf mask and wearing the exact clothing he wore at the ball. While Ina nearly threw herself in, Markus entered reluctantly, the flight to the castle being uneventful and fast.

Before them stood a towering and sharp castle, the colors of the UTC now more than evident. Black and red were dominant here, even on the uniform of the guards, which worde armored suits with faceless masks. With quite the scowl, Markus followed ina and the messenger down into the castle, going up a few flights of stairs and being presented with a large door.

“The general is past this door. Please be on your best behaviour and act accordingly, you will be in the presence of someone who owns half of this planet.” The messenger said, standing straight and opening the door for the two. Walking past this door, a large chamber opened up to them, one with a lot of decorations and extravagant set pieces, a man greeting them.

He wore a very royal looking black and red garb, a military crusher cap upon his head, his illustrious blonde beard now stroked by the man’s hand. “I welcome you to all that the UTC has to offer, I hope that we may find a way to eliminate the tension between our nations.” He spoke slowly and calmly, holding his hand out towards them. Ina was going to shake it, but Markus did so first, holding it tightly.

Something dramatic and unexpected happened, Markus said “I’m sure we’ll do so.” Before rapidly pulling out a handgun and firing a bullet in the surprised general’s head, releasing his hand and allowing the dead man to drop to the ground in front of a horrified Ina.

“It had to be done, dear, we needed something to start this war.” Markus said, the mentor pointing his gun at Ina and shaking his head. “I really am sorry, but you saw those men, they’re ready to fight. This peace thing is stealing jobs away from warriors such as myself.”

Ina clasped her eyes closed, but the gunshot did not come, a zapping sound heard, with Markus now slumped to the floor. He was promptly dragged away by guards, the messenger walking in and striding over to the dead general. Ina’s eyes were locked on him. This was horrifying, what had Markus done? What was going to happen to her country and more importantly at this exact moment, what was going to happen to her?

The messenger sighed and said “As expected.” before bending over and picking the hat off the dead man, putting it on and removing his mask. The man’s face was more enthralling than his voice, a pristine white with symmetry one would dream of, his red eyes focused on Ina for now.

She retreated as much as she could until her back was at the wall, her head hanging in resignation, wishing she could ever apologize for what happened or excuse herself, instead awaiting her punishment.

The messenger placed his hand underneath her chin, lifting it. “My name is Cairath Bloodborne, I am the General, dear. Your friend killed a petty criminal offered freedom for some light impersonation.” Cairath’s index finger strode across Ina’s cheek, tilting her head a bit and kissing the woman once more, his tongue invading the woman’s mouth and exploring it before he pulled away from this kiss, leaving the woman stupefied.

She managed to muster the courage to stare at him, her lips trembling at this point. What a man, his red eyes could induce fear into someone with a mere gaze while his perfectly chiseled cheekbones made narcissists jealous of their perfect form. His lips stunned her with one touch and the man’s voice was just as mirific as the first time she’d seen him, but the question remained, what would happen now?

“I’m… I’m sorry.” She managed to mutter out, wishing she could just shrink away and disappear at this point. Both of her hands were caught behind her, planted against the wall that she was now backed into.

“Nothing to be sorry about, dear.” Cairath responded, taking a step back and walking over to the desk, now sitting on it and crossing his legs. “I expected this. And don’t worry about your companion, he’ll just sit tight in a cell before you both head back.” The general stretched a bit and raised his eyebrows at the cowering woman, beckoning her forth with his finger. Was it some kind of artificial attraction, or did she truly fall in love with the man that now stood opposed to all of her nation?

“I see you’re still afraid of me, but there’s no need for such fear. The United Terra Commonwealth is here to help, we bring technology and peace. Sadly, it seems that many believe we’re conquerors when we merely wish to protect you from the true conquerors.” Cairath explained, motioning with his hand about before sighing.

The woman listened carefully, or as well as she could in the stance that she was at the moment, soon hearing “There are many other giant entities and governments out there, many who would shoot first and ask questions later, unlike us.” With this said, the woman’s legs finally picking up the will to step forward towards Cairath.

Both of her hands were locked in front of her chest, her breath light as she said “N-now what?” She wasn’t sure if she should just flee, maybe try and discuss a bit with the man or try and plead for the future of her country. Be it as it may, she stared at him, expecting him to take the first step.

“Now the future of your country rests upon your shoulders. It’s clear you’re preparing for war, but the UTC could turn it into a smoldering boulder in moments. What will you do?” He asked, the general’s right hand to his chin at the moment, his forked tongue slithering out to lick the tip of his index finger.

Her eyes were as big as they could get and her heart almost stagnated at that point, soon after starting to beat so fast that it was almost shooting out of her chest. It felt as if something was stuck in her neck, the woman unable to swallow at that point. “I will do all that I must to ensure Cronatis does not fall!” She said, stomping her foot and then once more shrinking away.

Cairath stepped off his desk and reached the woman, grasping her right hand, locking his eyes with her. The walls of the room they were in began playing music for the two, an atmospheric string based soundtrack that fluctuated with the man’s words, reacting to his actions.  “The heralds of two different worlds locked in the same chamber, step the boundary and reach into your heart in this upcoming duet, allow my control over you to grow stronger yet.”

Ina turned her head around, her eyes frantically attempting to avoid his, her hair attempting to hide the blush while her free hand scurried to place itself anywhere but on his enchanting body, failing to do so and instead landing against his chest. “How can I give into this ardent lust and love galore? A feeling unlike any before, the lack of which makes my heart sore.”

The two spun around for a moment, the curtains that hid the sky now narrowing to cast a ray of light on them alone, one that followed them around the darkened chamber as they danced, much akin to their first encounter. “I offer the peace of a united nation, the decision dictated by ration. Stay here and thrive with me, the couple that they must see. We are each other’s soul mates, we’re linked with our nation’s fates.”

Under such an assault of emotions, the woman began to vocalize alongside the music that accompanied their strange encounter “People see you in garb of fear and dread, they say you spit fire and kill with never ending ire, but the only thing is my heart on a lust pyre…”

Her vest found itself sent to a chair nearby, the man’s nimble hands having revealed the woman’s white buttoned up shirt now, his words as agile as his fingers. “I could irrigate my gardens with their blood, turn every ounce of flesh into mud, but I wish to stop agony, not a single tear, not a droplet of fear.”

She couldn’t have paid less attention to this, the woman’s belt accompanying the man’s belt, these two draped over the side of his desk like two fatigued snakes resting, one of her hand feeling the man’s cheek by this time. “I’ve always been a caged bird, such interactions utterly absurd.” Ina responded in a vague protest, her shirt opened to reveal her black bra, the man’s coat and shirt having long departed his body, revealing his pristine chest and chiseled midsection.

The woman’s pantaloons joined the man’s after he spun around her around, now holding the woman up by her behind, the light cast by the small reticule in the curtains allowing the two to merely stare at each other as they danced further, their lips locking in a kiss.

Two glasses of red wine were the focus of the light now, these two held by the locked hands of the two newly found lovers, their lips reaching into the lighting as well. “If my country wanted to join your nation as much as I want you now, we’d have had a union before I was born.” The woman said, the curtain closing and now enveloping the two in darkness.

Sliding over the soft patch of unexplored skin that the woman’s thighs were, Cairath’s fingers created a passageway for his palm to take residence on that parchment of flesh. Acting as a resting point for her entire leg, the hand was barely able to resist advancing towards her delicious behind. In the shadows cast by the curtains, they sipped from each other’s glass before tossing them aside next to their clothing.

Cairath carried his newfound lover to a large couch that was present in the chamber, planting her there and allowing his red eyes to somehow cast a light upon the woman’s body, all while his fingers trickled down her sides and up to the untouched breasts. They were kneaded gently, a light flick on her nipples prompting the man to slip on top of her, their lips once more meeting.

With her hands planted on his back and arching her back against him, the woman yearned for such touch and adulating more than anything else, her breath stolen away once he moved his lips down her cheek and to her neck, kissing it as well.

Joining the other pieces of clothing on the desk, a pair of dainty panties and manly boxers took dominance as queen and king, a silent moan from the woman signaling what was about to happen. This however is a story for another time.