"Open the gates to the catacombs and bury your sins beneath the dead lest your sins do the same unto you. These are the words carved into the Bastard's bones, an epitaph for the ages which inscribes an enduring and severe warning for all of dracokind. The day the Bastard Terrelyx was slain, the Heavens did rejoice with light and fire, and thus the Legend… Lumos? Was named Primarch Seraphim? That's not right. That's not right at all. The Seraphim's name is Vitalius. Who in the Hells is Lumos?"
The Fell titters a small sound. "You may know him as Haunt, the Fifth Thorn."
"No." I tell her again, "No. Vitalius slayed the Wretched Bastard and carved the runic seal into his bones. Not some Wretch. How dare you pilfer credit and corrupt Xikarius the Elder's sacred scripture? This is sacrilege!"
"This was written by Xikarius the Elder's own hand, my darling." Her rose petal wings extend and fold around me to close us in as she lets out a big yawn. "The text was later altered for the fourth edition, also by Xikarius, after Lumos defied Aurora and refused to bury the Kingdom of Dyanatar in a shroud of ash and smoke to block out the sun as punishment for their heresy. Just as She did to me, Aurora cut Lumos down, and he fell from the Heavens. Thus, the credit for slaying the Bastard Terrelyx was stolen from Primarch Lumos, and given to Legend Vitalius, who then became Primarch Seraphim as Lumos's replacement."
"You're lying. That's all fucking nonsense. And how dare you speak the Goddess's name so frivolously?"
She just snickers again, tail wagging. "How zealous you are. Such confidence in objective falsehood, to the point where you deny the original chronicle despite holding it right there in your hands. Continue reading, little rose. You will understand."
"I see no rhyme nor reason in my reading a text so clearly misrepresentative of historical fact."
"I asked you to. And you said that you would." She uses a claw to turn my chin so I'm looking at her. Amused, clearly, she purrs, "Won't you keep your word, o honorable Fable? Aurora frowns upon the dishonest, or aren't you aware?"
The hardened plates on my spine and tail bristle as I growl through my sharp teeth. "Fine. I will keep my word. But that doesn't mean I accept any of this as truth."
"Of course not. Please…"
With a heavy sigh, I read some more.
"Thus the Legend Lumos was named Primarch Seraphim. In the years that followed, the Scribes of the Goddess's Written Word did uncover, investigate, and verify each and every event or occurrence that coalesced into causation of victory. The long, agonizing, and perilous journey Lumos faced in the execution of his duty in the Goddess's name is hereafter detailed in the following chronicle, following a brief recollection of the context within which it began."
I flip the page to begin the tale.
"Chapter One: The Bastard's Crimes. Born of Primarch Serenity and the Forlorn Wraith in what was by all accounts a… No. This isn't right either. Damn it, how much of this is going to be utter falsehood?"
"Mmm. What you should be asking is… How much of the story as you know it is utter falsehood?"
I look her dead in the face. "None of it. The candor of the divine word is unquestionable. If the Scribes wrote it as thus, it is thus. And the Scribes wrote that your Bastard's father was the Forlorn Wraith, who violently raped Primarch Serenity. Not… Not this. It didn't happen like this. It isn't true. Primarch Serenity would never in one million years willingly share a bed with your most vile and detestable assassin. By all accounts a heated passion shared between two lovers, however contemptuous the father and misguided the mother? That's drakeshit!"
"If the Scribes wrote it as thus, it is thus?" the Fell whimsically echoes my own words. "Xikarius the Elder is the Most Exalted Scribe. What's more, from the text itself… The Scribes of the Goddess's Written Word did uncover, investigate, and verify each and every event or occurrence…"
I'm about to throw this tainted seditious text into the fireplace. "The Goddess's virtuous commandment of maintaining honesty ends at the point where it is being exploited. I gave my word I would read The Luminous to you. Not this distorted and slanderous filth. I will not continue any further, Fell Beast. I refuse."
"Ahh…" Her claws very lightly fall across my throat as she takes hold of me by the neck. "And what if, little rose… What if I make you?"
I've frozen up, cursing myself. I forgot. I don't have a choice.
"Or… Perhaps I could ask nicely first…"
She props herself up on her elbow, pulling me in by the throat to kiss the back of my neck, which of course makes me shiver with sudden and unwanted desire. Then she kisses my cheek, and then my ear, slipping its pointed tip into her mouth as she explores its folds with her thin, dextrous, forked tongue. I hate that I can't help myself from exhaling a weak murmur of awful and despicable ecstasy, eyes falling shut as all sensation is taken over by the foul advance of this cruelest of monsters, as well as the soft touch of the huge hand slowly feeling my stomach.
A contemptible, repulsive, wholly misguided lust has gripped me, and it's all I can do to look deeply into her absent, milky eyes as my breathing intensifies on its own. Why? Why does it feel so good, so exciting? The sheer difference in size? The enormous disparity of power? The pressure which she exerts over me? The feeling of total powerlessness, of being at her mercy, of being so thoroughly dominated? I always relished in these feelings whenever Hilde took control, but that was an act, more or less. This is no act. It's real. The Fell Beast could do whatever she wants to me, and there's nothing I can do to stop her.
Hells. Why is the thought so fucking thrilling?
Perhaps it's because I know this is forbidden.
Primarch Serenity. Is this how she felt with Wraith?
"Hmhmhm…" She hums with low mirth, then exhales hot breath over my skin as she whispers directly into my ear. "Won't you please continue reading to me, my delectable, decadent, luscious rose? It brings me such rich pleasure to hear your voice…"
I can't help myself. A soft moan slips out.
"Mm. You like that, do you? I thought so."
"S–Stop… Please… I–I don't…"
"As you desire, Crimson." She kisses my left horn then the top of my head before laying back down, but keeping her arm around my middle. That placid little smile is lingering on her lips. "Well? Will you read to me? Just a little more. Then we can do something of your choosing."
"Wh–What?" I'm on edge. My ear is still wet. "What? That's… That's it? You just… stopped? You, the Wicked Defiler? Taking no for an answer?"
"Certainly makes you wonder why they call me that… Doesn't it?"
I don't know what to think or feel. "I'm… confused."
"Do you want me to have my way with you, little red?"
"I…"
"If you desire it, I will take you by force without hesitation."
"I don't…"
"Then please… Continue reading, my darling."
Fuck. Now I'm craving. Something. With someone.
But it cannot be her. It can never be her. Never.
I will never let such a monster have me that way.
Even if it would be thrilling beyond compare…
No. Absolutely not. That is not happening. Ever.
At this point, reading seems to be the safest option.
So, resisting temptation, I flip the page and continue.
"U–Um. So… Um. The… Yes, this text falsely claims the Wraith and Serenity were lovers, and there the Bastard was born. Terrelyx hatched shortly after the Winter Solstice which began the year 473 of the Sixth Era. It is verified fact that Terrelyx was the first of his brood to hatch, and it is commonly claimed that he devoured all of his broodkin within their eggs, although Primarch Serenity herself denies this… denies this rumored claim and recounts that Terrelyx's nine siblings succumbed to the blight of scale rot that swept the Hatcheries between the years 468 and 477, which the Hatcheries's own records do indeed confirm. Okay, there's another lie. Serenity herself informed the Heavens of Terrelyx's kin-slaying, and the Hatcheries confirmed that. Not… this."
"Oh, how simple it would be to alter the record…"
I shake my head and ignore her. "Terrelyx's early life in Saint Barius's Orphanage amidst the Foster Skylands was, by all accounts… What in the Hells? Unremarkable? He set fire to the steeple and murdered half the other fledglings in a frenzied rampage! Then ripped the eyes out of Legend Veriss and devoured them whole!"
"Hm. An accident caused by a grease fire, another rush of scale rot, and the self mutilation of a demented dragon who had left the orphanage decades prior to become a patient in the Tranquility Asylum. None of which actually happened until several years after Terrelyx aged out of Saint Barius's."
"You said you despise liars."
"I do indeed…"
"Hypocrite."
"Read more. Finish this page."
At this point, I'm curious to see just how fucking much of this is wildly incorrect, so I keep going. "Due to a number of social, political, and institutional factors, most notably of which was the prevailingly disdain attitude towards illegitimate spawn, particularly in reference to the magnitude of disparity between Primarch Serenity's and Terrelyx's social standing, as a young adult the black dragon was a frequent target of vicious harassment, violent assault, and hateful sabotage by his peers and his superiors alike. Oh, please. Drakeshit again. Damn it. These myriad torments are presumed to be the grindstone against which Terrelyx's anger, indignation, rage, bitterness, callousness, and cruelty were sharpened, though none who yet live are capable of verifying this to be factual. Drakeshit."
"Hm. Are you somehow capable of verifying it?"
"No, obviously. I hadn't been born yet. But still, that's nonsense."
"Then you cannot verify it to be falsehood either. Can you?"
I growl at her again, spine bristling. "What is this even saying? The other draconids were mean to him, so it's somehow their fault he chose to destroy the Hatcheries and kill tens of thousands of fledglings?"
"Perhaps. Perhaps not. If that's your interpretation…"
"This is supposed to be a chronicle! There is no interpretation!"
"Xikarius the Elder interpreted the most likely cause. He was there to see it happen. You were not. Are you claiming to know better than the Goddess's personal Scribe?"
I snap the book shut by way of answering.
"Yes, I suppose that's the end of the page," she hums with a smile as she slowly sits up. "Thank you very much for reading to me, my rose. You have my deepest and most sincere gratitude."
I don't accept her deceptive attempts to appear grateful.
"Now then. What would you like to do next? Hm?"
"Break free of this enslavement and go home."
"Something within the Hells, rose. Preferably here in my domain…"
In the moments that follow, I emulsify, wend, and wane through a dozen different emotions. Anger, frustration, incredulity, agitation, nervousness, anxiety, fear, worry, concern, sorrow. None of this makes any sense. It can't be true, can it? It's impossible. Damn it. Damn it. I'm trapped here. I may as well try to make the most of it, for now.
"Can I have a look at your wildlife pools?"
She smiles more brightly than usual. "Absolutely."