DD1 ASC - Chapter 29 - Promises

They set out an hour after at dawn, a small mercy that Arilla seemed immensely grateful for as she blearily wiped the sleep from her eyes and followed Typhoeus out past the ring of glowing wardposts that marked the boundary between their camp and the ‘monster’ infested wilderness of the foothills. It was another beautiful morning, one that caused a pang of longing to worm its way into Typhoeus’s heart. As lovely as the view of the rolling hills and scenic vistas were, it all paled in comparison to the truly majestic sights that could only be seen from atop the peaks of the Dragonspines, which he had once called his home.

He spared a moment's thought for his siblings as he allowed himself to wonder what they must be doing right now. Each one of them out-massed his true form at least four times over, resulting in a vast gulf in raw power that he simply couldn’t overcome, even though he had more than 50 levels on them all. No doubt they would be slumbering in their mountaintop lairs atop their massive piles of stolen wealth, content to let the decades roll by in a half-aware torpor while passively levelling all the way to 200. He knew that if they could see him now, at best they would shake their large heads in disgust at his actions, but when he looked over his shoulder at the sleepy expression on his lovers face, as she yawned and stretched herself awake in the early hours of the morning, he realised that perhaps for the first time that he honestly couldn’t care less about his family's approval.

He led Arilla away from the relative safety of their camp and through a winding valley to the south. This far into the foothills, flora and fauna were evident everywhere in great abundance. Despite the poor quality of the loose sandy soil here, the bountiful mana that suffused the area drove new verdant growth in the local plant life, which in turn fed herbivores, who fed carnivores and so on. The hot summer’s sun made for a pleasant walk for the two of them as it quickly burnt off the early morning mist that had descended during the night from the mountains to the west. They were likely the only ‘humans’ around for miles, and their booted feet moving over the lush undergrowth were the only sounds to detract from the natural tranquillity of the valley. The local monstrous animals were smart enough to steer well clear of Typhoeus’s unbound aura that announced his presence to them well in advance of his physical appearance, ensuring that he and Arilla had a pleasant and undisturbed journey.

As much as he enjoyed his time with Arilla on the ground, he was well aware of how much of an aberration that made him. If it wasn’t for his hated trait, then he would never have met her or any of the other humans that he had encountered, and if by chance they had met, he would have happily killed and eaten them all without any remorse. He knew why the different species lived separately, and from his interactions with the more unsavoury members of humanity, he likely understood the reasoning of it better than any other living dragon, but he couldn’t help but feel that if he was normal, then his life would be all the more emptier for not having Arilla in it.

Arilla, for all her usual complaints, seemed to be enjoying the change of pace, and he was more than happy to provide her with a morning off from the near ritualised death matches that passed for her training. He felt guilty for his part in that, she had been subjected to far more pain than he had initially planned. His failings as a teacher were shining through as it took him so long to realise that he was merely reinforcing her bad habits, the literal trauma of each scorpion fight being etched deeper and deeper onto her malleable human brain. Already she seemed so much freer and more relaxed, just for being away from the camp where copious amounts of her blood had been spilt. He knew that lacking any better options, she would have to eventually return to the pit, but he was hopeful that when she did so that she would approach things differently and prioritise her own wellbeing over that of the quick kill.

The valley that they were following gradually sloped around to the west, and as they slowly rose in elevation, a small stream appeared at its basin. They continued to follow the gently sloping valley close to the stream, which grew in size as it merged with several tributaries, eventually forming a small river some 15 foot across at its widest point. The sounds of the flowing water complimented the distant birdsong and provided a relaxing backdrop to their hike.

Hours later, they finally reached the source of the river, an expansive pool at the base of a small rocky waterfall some 40 feet high. The water was crystal clear, allowing anyone to see all the way to the bottom of the pool, where the continuous flow of falling water had carved out a deep depression beneath the exposed stone of the waterfall. Here the water pooled, warming itself from the sun before lazily flowing its way downriver as it succumbed to gravity’s persistent pull.

“We’re here,” Typhoeus said triumphantly, gesturing for Arilla to come join him in standing by the water’s edge.

She moved warily to join him, looking around at the peaceful pool sceptically with her sword hand raised over her shoulder as if she was ready to draw her zweihander at a moment's notice.

“This is nice and all, but why are we here? I can’t see any monsters to kill," Arilla said warily, her continued suspicion in the face of such natural beauty only reinforcing his belief that this was necessary.

“You're right; you can’t,” Typhoeus said as he took a few steps back from the edge before quickly rushing forwards as he pushed Arilla into the pool.

She windmilled her arms frantically through the air before hitting the water, her mail and her sword pulling her under as she sank like a stone towards the bottom. Arilla fought against the weight for several long seconds before abandoning her sword and shrugging out of her mail as she swam to the surface. The much-patched armour practically fell apart as she easily tore off the few intact straps and kicked off against the pool’s floor.

"What was that for!" Arilla yelled as she broke the surface. "Oh, Gods above, why are you naked?"

"Our clothes are ruined, your mail too. Besides, who goes for a swim fully dressed?" Typhoeus said, proudly sticking out his chest before diving into the water.

"So this is the plan? There's nothing to kill? We're here to go swimming?" she asked, firing off her questions with an incredulous look on her face.

"Yes, now take off your clothes already! You're getting the water dirty," he said, tugging at her shirt stained a foul reddish-brown that was already discolouring the clear water around her.

“I can’t believe you dragged me out all this way just to get me to take off my clothes,” Arilla said as she acquiesced, pulling her shirt over her head and throwing the sodden and disgusting fabric to the side of the pool, where it landed with a wet squelch. The rest of her clothes followed soon after, joining her shirt in leaking old blood and discoloured water in a small puddle that smelled off-putting even to Typhoeus’s draconic tastes. The water itself was cool and fresh, the crisp water seeming to invigorate them both and doing a lot to wash away the fatigue that had built up steadily over the past week.

“I dragged you all this way to relax. You need a day off from being stabbed by monsters," he said as he trod water, splashing her with his arms as if to punctuate his point.

“We could have relaxed back at the camp if it was so important, aren’t you supposed to be teaching me something? I already know how to swim if that was the point," Arilla said, spreading her arms back as she floated belly up in the water.

Typhoeus bit his lip as he hungrily devoured the sight of her body. His own nudity was forgotten as he slowly swam over to his human lover and wrapped his arms around her in an intimate embrace. The cold water did much to heighten the sensation of warmth given off by her body against his. His small feminine hands roamed all over Arilla’s toned muscles as he continued to tread water, the physical exertion required to do so minimised by his relatively high strength and vitality. He gently spread her legs open and pulled her crotch against his thigh, grinding her vulva against him as he squeezed her firm buttocks, causing her to moan softly.

“Typh, as nice as this is, please tell me we didn’t just hike all this way just so we could do this?” she said a little breathlessly as she held onto him, pressing her small breasts up against his face, which he readily kissed and nuzzled against.

“You need this; life isn’t all about killing things and training. Sometimes you just need to take the time to enjoy yourself and relax," he said, spreading the outer lips of her vulva open with his hand as he gently stroked her inner labia and teased her with his fingertips.

"What you're doing with your fingers isn't exactly relaxing," Arilla panted.

“Fair point. We’re supposed to be getting to the bottom of your self-preservation problem, not playing around," Typhoeus said as he slowly removed his hand from between her legs, savouring the look of disappointment on her face before kicking against the water as he swam away from her embrace to instead float on his back as he stared up at the sky. “So why do you think you let yourself get hurt so much? You complained more about walking here than you ever have about being pumped full of scorpion venom and very nearly killed multiple times per day," he asked after a long pause.

“It sounds bad when you say it like that," Arilla.

“It is bad,” Typhoeus said, turning his head to face her.

“Well, it's part of it, isn't it? Levelling to 20 in a way that nets me decent rank up options. You said that the problem with power levelling someone was that if it was too easy, they’d get terrible choices at the next rank."

“When I said that, I meant I wasn't going to hold monsters down for you to hack apart with your sword. I mean, you are broadly correct, but the pit fights are challenging enough without you going out of your way to get hurt," Typhoeus said.

“I'm not trying to get hurt. It’s just…" she said, trailing off.

"Just what?"

"It will sound silly."

"Arilla," Typhoeus said sternly.

"It's just when I get hurt in the pit; it feels like I earned the kill. The levels that come from them, I mean. Having you go out and bring me monsters to fight, and then more often than not killing them to save me …it almost feels like we're cheating," she said, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"We can stop if it's making you uncomfortable," he offered.

"No! Please!" Arilla said, her eyes widening after the fact when she realised how emphatically she had said it, as Typhoeus watched her silently with a single raised eyebrow.

"So you enjoy it then," he asked.

"What!"

“I've seen all of your fights Arilla, I saw what you did to that goblin long after it was dead, the look on your face when you beat that ogre, how a part of you comes alive every time you step into that pit. You love it," he said accusingly.

“Maybe you're right, but is that so bad?” she asked hesitantly.

“On its own? No, but when you lose yourself to it, then you're going to make mistakes. Mistakes like trying to attack a dire scorpion head-on."

"You don't think I'm weird?"

"I'm pretty sure that it's a fairly normal reaction to the intensity of battle. Bards write songs about battle lust, right?" Typhoeus offered placatingly.

"Yeah, they do. There’s an old one I like where Gabriel the Bloody Raven misses it so much he gave up his title to become a mercenary. He fought and ultimately died at the siege of Mantioclos during the last border war with Epheria," Arilla said, a broad smile sitting comfortably on her face as she quickly forgot about her earlier embarrassment.

"Right… Well, I don't want you dying in a siege or anywhere else because you got caught up in a battle frenzy and were too eager for the fight to stop and think your way out of it."

"I wouldn't do that," she said defensively.

"You would," he insisted.

"Okay, so maybe I would, but it's hard. I just get caught up in the flow of it, and that little voice in my head that tells me to be careful and do the smart thing gets drowned out, and all I can feel is the anticipation of the next step, the next strike, the next kill," she said, her eyes practically glazing over as she described her feelings.

"Uh-huh, that’s probably your class talking a little too loudly. We need to fix that," he said warily.

"You're not going to tell me to meditate, are you?" she asked cynically.

"Like that would work," he scoffed. “No, you're going to promise me to take better care of yourself."

"A promise, this isn't one of those ‘power of friendship’ things, is it?"

"No, it's not even the power of lovers either. No, you picked a class that is all about oaths and loyalty. As I have been trying to tell you, a class is so much more than just the skills that it offers. As my sworn sword, I have a degree of influence over you, and when you swear to me that you'll preserve your life above all else, you'll find it harder than usual to ignore that promise."

"Wait, so I can't break my promises to you?"

"You can; It’ll just be difficult. Much more than it should be, and yes, before you ask, it is widely abusable and is another great reason why you should have picked another class like I told you to," he said, watching her face fall. "Oh, it's not all bad, [Sworn Service] is a disgustingly powerful skill. If you had picked something else, I highly doubt that you would have gotten such good rank 1 upgrades to your skills without acquiring some other horrible drawback."

"I guess," she said, seemingly lost in thought.

"Just be glad that you have such a great taste in liege lords, now say your promise so we can move on already," Typhoeus said magnanimously, as he spurred her on.

"Fine," she said, sucking in a deep breath as she mentally prepared herself. ”I Arilla Foundling do so promise to prioritise my life and physical well-being over all other things…"

"Great, that's-"

"…And to keep the secrets of Typh my liege lord, partner and bedmate," she said, cutting him off.

"You really didn't have to add that last part," he said, feeling his own heart flutter at the gesture. He knew it wouldn’t stop her from divulging his secrets if she put her mind to it, but it gave him some small amount of much-appreciated security.

"Shut up, Typh."

Typhoeus yelped as Arilla surprised him by pulling him into a deep kiss, mashing her lips against his as he felt them part, only for her tongue to slip inside his mouth. Instinctively he closed his eyes as he relaxed into it, pointedly ignoring [Sovereign’s Perception] as it tried to spoil the surprise of what was about to happen next.

He felt her hands move across his body, the rough sensation of her fingernails trailing ever downward, contrasting sharply with the cool water of the pool as they dimpled along the soft contours of his skin.

He wrapped his legs around her narrow waist, trusting in Arilla to keep them both steady in the water as he held her close. They kissed deeply and ferociously, both of them desperate to reignite the connection between them that had dimmed so much since their panicked flight in the halls of the dead dungeon. He felt his need for her rise as the heat between his legs grew, the cold water completely failing to dampen his lust.

Arilla's fingers soon found their way inside him, finding no resistance as he was already wet with anticipation. His slick fluids paved the way for her as she frantically plumbed the depths of his vagina, her strong fingers pushing into him as they stoked the fires of his need. She was rougher than he was used to, her frustrations from the past week’s abstinence causing her to vigorously attack his aching pussy. Her hand pistoning back and forth between his legs as the water from the pool splashed against their naked chests.

He felt his orgasm build quickly, the past week having been hard on him as well, and he found himself balancing on a hair-trigger, trying desperately not to cum as she violently fucked him with her hand. He moaned into her mouth, finally breaking the long kiss to bite into her shoulder as she relentlessly fucked him. He held her close, squeezing her tight with his arms and legs as she penetrated him without reprieve, the powerful motions of her hand stretching him wide to accommodate her thrusting fingers.

He came hard. His whole body shuddering as he clenched down on her, he felt the pulsating walls of his vagina try to hold her fingers in place. Arilla seemed only to take this as a challenge though as she began fucking him with increased vigour. By now, his pussy was oversensitive, the cold water of the pool having long since washed all of his natural lubrication away, but as the pain grew, so too did his pleasure.

He had known from his earlier experimentation with Arilla that he had a bit of a masochistic streak, but as his vagina began to growl in protest to her continued assault, he felt himself cum again. His toes curled while waves of intense pleasure crashed through him, his mind going blank as the vigorous motions of Arilla’s deftly moving hand rocked him to delicious orgasm after orgasm.

“Fuck. Where did that come from?” Typhoeus asked minutes later, his mind still reeling as he came down from his post-orgasmic bliss.

“I’d say you’ve had that coming for some time now,” Arilla said, smiling as she demurely licked her fingers clean.

“I thought you were still angry with me," he said.

“I was, but I got over it. I get that you wanted to downplay your strength, but you're not doing it now, right?”

“No, I’m not holding anything back anymore.”

“Good, now if you’re ready, I haven’t had any attention at all," she said with a smile, Typhoeus joining her in the water before taking a deep breath as he lowered his head below the surface.

When they were done, and Typhoeus had finally caught his breath, Arilla rested her head on his much larger breasts and he held her close to him as they laid together against the edge of the pool. Their clothes had been washed as much as they could be given their tattered state and were drying against a warm rock in the afternoon sun. Arilla had retrieved her sword from the depths, its enchantments ensuring that it wouldn't rust despite its ill-treatment, and her ruined mail had simply been abandoned to its lonely fate at the bottom of the pool.

"Well, this is nice, isn't it?" Typhoeus said, carefully running his hands through Arilla's hair.

"Yeah, but we can't stay here forever," Arilla said wistfully as she let out a long exhale, the last of the tension leaving her body as she sagged back against him.

"We kind of can," he retorted.

"You know what I mean. What would we even do out here?" she asked, closing her eyes as she enjoyed Typhoeus’s careful ministrations as he began braiding her hair back into her customary long plaits.

"Kill things, get levels, and fuck outdoors. I can think of worse long term plans," Typhoeus said, growing increasingly amused at the prospect.

"And live the rest of my life in tattered rags with only you for company? No thanks," Arilla said.

“I’m great company!” he protested.

“You certainly are,” she said with a contended smile. “But I could never be a hermit, even with you to keep me warm at night. I’d miss the stories, for one thing."

“Tell me you’re not actually a fan of ‘Typh the Dragons Wife’.”

“I hate that it’s about you, obviously I prefer Eliza’s songs that—”

“That song is not about me," he said flatly.

“I mean, songs that don't use your name, history or general body shape.”

“You’re digging yourself a really big hole here," he warned half-seriously.

“Right, stopping. Uhm, I believe we’ve gotten off track," she said awkwardly as she quickly backpedalled.

“Yes, you were going to tell me why we have to go back to civilisation before you got sidetracked…” he said, silently daring her to mention Eliza’s name in his presence. “Presumably, there’s something back there that’s necessary to whatever it is you want to do with your life,"

“I don't know what I want to do with my life. For the longest time I just didn’t want to be hungry anymore. But now? I know that I want to help people …and that things could be better in Terythia than how they are now," she said.

“Better how?” Typhoeus asked, genuinely curious.

“Well, you’ve seen it. How badly those with high levels treat those without them.”

“I've seen it, but that's pretty much a universal truth. Even monsters are the same.”

“No, it’s not, monsters all have the same class, and they’re never classless. The free class stones in Rhelea are the exception, not the rule. It’s the only town run that way without nobles getting in the way of things, and everything looks like that's about to change for the worse.”

“You're talking about the House Traylan petition.”

“Yeah. As much as Galen likes to posture, his family doesn't have any actual authority over the town besides being obscenely wealthy. If that changes, I know that I won't want to live there anymore.”

“Would it be so bad if it was? Beyond the obvious issues of Galen having more power, is noble rule that much worse than the Merchants Council?”

"You don't get it 'cause you're from the mountains."

"Then explain it to me, and use small words as I'm simple mountain folk," he said mockingly.

"You're anything but simple," she said with a wry smile as she looked up at him.

"Just explain it already."

“Right, I am. The big thing is that most of the class stones in the country are owned by noble dynasties or crown sponsored guilds. They decide who gets to have a class and who doesn't. Outside of Rhelea, commoners can realistically only get a class by agreeing to a binding oath or contract to serve in perpetuity.”

“Like your oath to serve me.”

“That’s different; I chose you after the System offered me a class for it, and it's not like the consequences for breaking it are that severe," she said dismissively.

“You’ll lose access to all of your skills until I either die, forgive you, or you rank up into an oathbreaker class," he said flatly.

“I will?" she exclaimed, clearly unaware of that fact.

“Yes. The System takes oaths seriously.”

“Right, well. Even so, it’s still different.”

“Uh-huh,” Typhoeus said, feeling unconvinced.

“It was my choice, and I had other options, okay!” Arilla said in her defence.

“Okay fine, it’s different. So I still don’t see what’s so wrong with swearing oaths to use the class stones.”

“It’s because the oaths are horrendously unfair, forcing you to fight in their wars, to pay more taxes and agreeing to violations like the ‘Right of First Night’. And it’s not like they just let you choose freely; most people are forced by their Lords to take farmer or labourer classes. The only time the average person even sees a combat class is when their Lord comes knocking and forces them to take soldier so they can be slightly more efficient fodder in whatever pointless border skirmish they're made to fight in next," she said, her voice growing louder with each word as she worked herself up.

“I’ll admit that’s a little different," Typhoeus conceded.

“It’s awful! The only reason people don’t rise up is because they can’t. A squad of high-level knights can and have obliterated thousands of the unclassed.”

“How do you know all of this isn’t overblown? I know you love listening to bards, but I wouldn’t put too much stock in stories you hear in taverns.”

“It’s pretty common knowledge, Typh, people travel from all over Terythia just to get away from the nobility. The chance to raise their kids free is a powerful motivator to risk monster attacks, bandits and your liege lord’s wrath," she said.

“So if it's like that everywhere else, why is Rhelea different?”

“You really don't know? It’s a famous story," Arilla asked.

"I wouldn't be asking if I knew," he said, his curiosity overcoming his prideful urge to pretend that he already knew the tale.

"Right, so almost a century ago, I think, the first Traylans split off from the Nauron dynasty who ran the province out of Nauronos. As a new branch family, they were gifted Rhelea and the surrounding lands from the provincial governor. This being the frontier, there really wasn’t much built back then; Rhelea was just a small prospecting town that occasionally sent miners into the foothills. Anyway, the first head of the new Traylan dynasty decided that rather than ruling over some miners and lumberjacks in tiny villages constantly beset by monsters, to instead found a fortified city to the northwest called Tralyra. It was supposed to be a grand affair, streets paved with gold, walls warded in silver by the finest runescribes from Epheria, the buildings planned by finest architects, that sort of thing.”

“I know about Traylra,” Typhoeus said abruptly “Greatest city ever built by men that close to the Dragonspines. Or at least it was, right up until a 6th Tier shadow dragon claimed it. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“I’m honestly quite surprised you know about Trayla’s fall but not how it affected Rhelea."

"Well like you said, the fall is fairly common knowledge," Typhoeus explained awkwardly, having heard the tale before albeit from the dragon in question's perspective.

"It is, but you’ve skipped ahead a little bit," she said, nodding along to his words. "Anyway, the Traylans ran out of money with the city only half-built, so they looked for loans, only nobody was biting. Probably because they thought investing all your wealth into an area filled with so many monsters was asking for trouble.”

“Which it was. I mean really, did they not even check to see who’s territory they were building on?”

“Can I just tell the story?” Arilla asked, sounding a little frustrated by his interruptions.

“Sorry. Please continue.”

“Thank you. So… eventually, the then head of the Traylans, Gaius, or something beginning with a ‘G’ was approached by a consortium of merchants who wanted to buy Rhelea and the rights to rule it as they saw fit. They must have liked the general idea of an adventuring town near the Dragonspines but thought it best to be a bit more conservative with their location,” Arilla said with a shrug. “There were a lot of negotiations before it eventually changed hands for a truly exorbitant sum."

"So with the influx of merchant gold, Tralyra gets built and quickly becomes the wealthiest city in Terythia after the capital, on account of the easy trade with Lintumia to the west, and more adventurers there exploiting the wealth in the Spines with greater ease than anywhere else at the time. The Traylans are rubbing everyone's faces in it, and considering how rich they were becoming, everyone expected the King to give them the province to rule over the Nauron main branch. A decision which would have given the governor's then son, who is now the current Traylan patriarch, a realistic shot at being voted in as the next King."

"Everything was going swimmingly if you were a Traylan until like you said, a huge shadow dragon decided they liked the look of Tralyra. It flies right over the impenetrable walls, and just like that takes the city in a day. There was some furore at the time about retaking Tralyra, but no noble wanted to risk their armies messing with a dragon that big just to aid the Traylans who had made a lot of enemies in a relatively short space of time. Especially when it meant their kids potentially losing out on a chance at becoming King."

"Everyone still living in Tralyra after the attack promptly fled and most of them who didn’t die along the way ended up in Rhelea. It turned out that some enterprising looter made off with a couple of class stones amidst all the chaos when the city fell. And so during the long journey south, the surviving refugees all claimed combat classes and earned the levels to back them up by fighting their way through the foothills for two solid weeks. By the time the Merchants Council in charge of Rhelea knew what was happening, every commoner already had a class and was happily going about their business like nothing was wrong.”

“Apparently, every noble dynasty expected the town to burn to the ground before the week was out, what with the peasantry throwing combat classes around like it was cheap beer, but the feared revolt never happened.”

“…And it kind of just keeps on going. Contrary to what everyone expected the Merchant Council eventually endorsed the move after the fact, and now they reap the benefits in more taxes per head than any other city, which the king obviously loves. The various noble dynasties see Rhelea as a hotbed of rebellion and sedition, and they’re not entirely wrong, but between the massive tax revenue that the King keeps milking from the town and the fact that the Merchant’s Council is politically neutral, there’s never been a big enough incentive for the King to change the status quo.”

“So why is everyone increasingly certain that the Traylan petition will go ahead?” he asked.

“Because Rhelea is a hotbed of rebellion and sedition,” Arilla said with a proud smile. “Citizens from all over Terythia flee their homes in the dead of the night to try and make it to Rhelea, arguably the only place in all of Astresia where anyone’s children can live free, wealthy and if they level right, for several centuries.”

“Naturally, the nobles hate it, but the more they crack down on free movement, the worse it becomes. Already half the bandits in the country are just common folk trying to evade their lord’s patrols and make it to Rhelea, and it keeps getting worse. Despite not being allowed to expand its walls, the town keeps getting bigger. Sooner or later, it will simply be too large and have too many high ranking adventurers to be put down should the feared revolt ever happen, even if all the provinces in the country pool their levied armies together.”

Typhoeus thought on Arilla’s words for some time. He had made a personal point of not getting involved in human politics, staying well clear of the drunken conversations about nobility that tended to happen with frequent regularity whenever the evening got late, and the beer kept flowing. But he was coming to learn that in human society, just because you made a point of ignoring politics, it did not mean that politics would necessarily ignore you.

“So do you think that Rhelea will rebel if the Traylans eventually take over?” he asked, unsure of what he hoped her answer would be.

“Maybe?” she said, the proud smile on her face not shifting an inch. It told him everything he needed to know about where Arilla’s hopes and greater loyalties lay.