Twin Magic

The west side of the Winter Tower remained illuminated as the sun slipped below the horizon, pale white marble glimmering slightly. Slaves in soot-covered clothing pushed their flickering torches into lanterns and metal braziers scattered both inside and outside the structure. Lighting the building was expensive, but it was important.

The Winter Tower was only one of a handful of towers still inhabited in Nightspire. Being able to keep it lit was a display of power as much as it was a symbol. Beside it, the Gleaming Tower stood cold and black against the failing light. Its reflective edifice had peeled in the decades since the Arnswald family died out. What was left had been stolen by some of the lesser families. Those were little more than scavengers, running personal fiefdoms in the mausoleums of much greater bloodlines than their own.

The large wooden doors to the top floor balcony flew open, propelled by unseen force. A figure appeared, making no noise as it hovered inward. Leather soles slid to the carpeted floor as he lowered his hands.

“I told you not to waste Will like that, Gustav.”

He turned to the right side of the room. Gustav saw the speaker sitting on a massive feather bed. She, and her naked form made her sex abundantly clear, bobbed up and down slowly. It was as if she was competing in the world’s slowest horse race. But her true activity was obvious. She gave him a mischievous smile, but all he could do was roll his eyes. They shared eye colour: ruby red. It complimented nicely with the frosted white colour of their hair. Their skin was pale enough to have never seen the sun at all. It was part of what gave their House its ancient name.

“Why in our bed, Gertrude?” He stepped over to the ancient wooden table and began to set down his things. A barely visible carving on the table top marked the outline of what had once been the extent of the Tyran Dominion. He didn’t notice it now, quickly obscuring the map with his greatcloak, his belt, and his sword.

Gertrude looked indignant. “Where else am I supposed to feed?” She looked down at the human pinned between her thighs. He couldn’t have been more than twenty summers old, his lithe body moving only slightly in concert with hers. His stare was glassy, focusing off into the ceiling like it held the face of his creator. Little bruise-marks pocked his neck, and the telltale red lines where nails bit flesh slid up his sides. If he noticed, he gave no sign. He was completely enraptured, to Gertrude’s mild amusement. “They caught this one trying to flee into the Sepulcher District. Apparently there’s a rumour that the gate there is wide open. All they have to do is make it past-”

“-the things that live there.” Gustav finished, his equipment shed completely. All that was left were his fine doublet and trousers, the same fashion of outfit worn by Tyrans since the Dominion was ascendant. Red and white, the colours of his house, stood prominent in the stitching. He tried to take care of it, considering the means to create new red dye had been lost nearly half his lifetime ago. A similar dress hung on the back of a chair next to the table where his gear resided, rumpled as if shucked in a considerable hurry.

“Don’t worry brother, I’m almost done.” she quickened her pace, riding her prey through his last moments of free thought. All he could muster in defiance was a faint whispered plea for mercy. It was soon quieted by a squeak of a moan as he came, a sputtering orgasm that drained him of the last of his Will. She didn’t reciprocate. It took a lot more than the feeble ejaculation of an inferior human to get a Tyran Duchess of the House of Weiss to climax.

As she rolled off of the human, her glistening pussy leaked the result of at least half a dozen previous orgasms down her thigh. She ignored it as she whispered a set of instructions to her now totally obedient thrall. He bolted up, not even bothering to collect his clothes as he left their chambers. She tittered as she closed the distance to her sibling, leaning up for a kiss. He complied, shaking his head afterward. He couldn’t be angry with her.

“How was the walls? Find any demons or virtuous paladins waiting to ransack our home?” she asked, picking up the human’s trousers and starting to wipe his weak seed from her leg.

“If there was, there’d be nothing we could do about it. The Nightguard is nothing more than a sick joke. I think I might be the only one who takes it seriously. The rest are too busy planning the next orgy.”

“Then draft some of the slaves. Surely there’s enough strapping young men to put swords and armour on.” She smirked, holding up the semen-soaked garment. “There’s one at least.”

“No. We cannot trust humans with our defence. Especially ones we’ve sucked the Will out of. They’d flee at the first sign of trouble.” He began to pace, remembering how frustrated he had been only a few hours before. Nobody in this city seemed to take anything seriously. The prevailing mood was apathy, the watchword ‘ignore’. There were so few of them left, and their infertility meant that those numbers would slowly trickle down as members of their race were killed off by violence or disease. The Tyran Dominion would fade into the night once more, with nothing but towering tombs of stone to mark their passing.

“We should become Dominator.” Gustav said, only afterward realizing he had said it out loud.

Gertrude snorted. “I don’t really see you as the imperial type.”

He grabbed her by the shoulders. “No, no. Not me. We. We should, together. Split power down the middle.”

“That’s...highly irregular.”

Gustav folded his arms. “Desperate times call for desperate deeds. The throne has been empty for years. The other families won’t even convene the Conclave to pick a new one. But what if we seize power? With your brains and my brawn, we could win. We could make the world fear the Dominion once more.”

Gertrude looked for an ounce of insincerity in her brother’s voice. She found nothing but determination. “We would need allies. Some of the other families could still put up a fight.”

“I have some ideas. Crazy ideas, but there are those out there who could help us for the right price.”

She nodded, a dozen schemes of her own rising unbidden to her mind. She grabbed scraps of parchment from her desk, sitting down to sketch down his words as he dictated. While he spoke, he undid the laces of his trousers, poking his half-erect member towards her cheek. She slid her mouth onto his length, keeping her eye on the paper as she gently sucked him off. Her other hand drifted below the desk, working quick circles around her exposed clit. A hazy glow filled her as they swapped Will, sharing a collective power of determination as they sketched the plan to bring an empire back from the dead.

This was what it took to arouse a Tyran Duchess.