THE VOYAGE AWAY FROM El Cabana filled Inaia with some sense of dread. Even her, with all of the clairvoyance she mastered could not forsee the future of this trip. Happy as she was initially to leave that jungle and its red-colored folk, for their women had begun to take on an unhealthy liking to her Lord [Host], she was bothered by the crawling fingers of fear against her low spine a mere four hours into the journey.

Fear that this island they were headed to—promised to be the jewel of the seas, was yet another hotspot for the enemies of her Lord to find, and end him. The Empyrean declared him wanted, three years now – a ruling queen’s issue for apprehension, among other infernal bastards who wanted to do him in for Lilith and the situation with the Principalities. Horripilation dotted Inaia’s arms; this symptom being one of the reasons why she didn’t really fuck with the mortal bodies.

These capsules could break and bleed, and shit. And die.

Frankly Inaia only kept the [corporis] she presently used because it allowed her the best fucks with her [Host]. She had not enjoyed it half as much back when she’d being confined to her Lord, inside of his brilliant mind, to see and hear and serve, but not to touch. Never to touch. Then that fucking cunt, aka, pale bitch with the horns had gone and killed Corazón. Her [Host] was broken. He’d never show it. Never did then. But to her, that moment right there was her cue to step out from [Augmented Reality] and serve him in the mortal plane.

If he decided to occasionally comfort his troubles inside of her, she would never complain. She was his [subservíena], born to obey him alone. Before that bonding to her [Host] all those moons ago, she was lost in the Aether—a primordial goddess clueless, out of her era and kingdom, but with all the knowledge of the cosmos in her sharp grip.

Before her Lord [Host] she was literally space.

"I mean da fat Chief on dat weird island told us two days—"

The deep accent of Kambili’s voice pulled Inaia into the present. She had been in her thoughts by her approximation 201.96 seconds. A discussion was going on at the spacious deck of the warship’s upper level. She had missed a part of it, but not much. Kambili was seated beside her on a twin recliner; a beautiful white tent kept back the harsh rays of late noon. The wind was dry and barely there, so they were all in breezy outfits.

Kambili had been talking to Thyra—sprawled over Eotigan’s abs on a larger single close to theirs under the same tent. Thyra, as the only one with Firstmate experience should be down at the bottom level with hands on the massive steer. But a simple helping spell from Inaia had the ship easily coasting the green waters of its own accord. Thyra had made a gamble with Inaia for it, and won. So now she was enjoying cozy vacationing with their shirtless sire.

Thyra was in a snuggle over Eotigan. His big body dwarfed hers, even lying there on the recliner. She had her long leg curved on his thigh, her hands on his broad, naked chest, with more than enough space on his pecs for her flowing blond hair to paint. Her blue eyes were shut out. But from her smile in peaceful breathing she was very much awake.

Kambili sighed; she’d continued with Inaia listening now, "...we been on da ocean now for what, eighteen hours?"

"Eighteen point six." Inaia corrected.

Kambili served her a pointed look, "really? You’re g’wan gimme some crap over da time we been sailing? Ya could use dat pretty dread head of yours to figure out where the fuck dis shit island ’pose ta be, eh? How ’bout dat, fancy bitch?"

Thyra’s smile stretched on Eotigan’s chest. Inaia cooed, "you think my dreads are pretty, awn!"

Kambili gave her a look that was not appeased. Inaia didn’t budge. She knew Kam wasn’t really upset. All the girls in the harem had a signature banter with one another; Kambili was the no-shit taker. "And you," her sundae eyes went straight to the Single, "you gonna kiss on Sire’s chest and rub on his cock all day?" Thyra’s lips twitching was all Kambili got back. The fairer woman went on to hiss at her: "—some thirsty slut you are. Look at you, literally begging for dick."

Eotigan, who had his bespectacled eyes respectably on the latest version of Country and Calm, reading the entire time, finally smiled and lifted his gaze. His leopard eyes showed over the rim of his glasses. Thyra opened her eyes too, at Kambili’s last jab. Moving in for the kill, she purred, "don’t act like you don’t want this dick. If anyone’s a bitch here... it’s obviously you, the literal fox. And we all know out of all of us, you like sucking dick the most."

"OH YOU BUSTY BLONDE BITCH!" Kambili was up out of the twin recliner.

She was just grabbing to Thyra’s sweeping hair when Eotigan grappled her away, lifting her clear off by the waist. Thyra was sticking her tongue out, "really, Kam? That’s all you got? Busty blond bitch. That’s no insult to me. That’s like my favorite compliment. Awwwnnn! Thank you so much. It means a lot to me that you think I’m all those things."

Lifted high up from the deck, Kambili still wrestled to get Thyra. She snapped out her vixen fangs, but there was no real wrath or ire behind her snarling. It was all just cat love.

Kambili knew Eotigan would not let her go. Still she yelled, loving the feel of his strong, muscular arms caging her, giving her no leeway; she liked her man being able to overpower her. She had to know he could handle her if she got too crazy one day. Perhaps, on the entire planet, only this ruthless demon prince could best her; after all she was a vessel for Suratani.

"Are you calm?" Eotigan murmured some seconds later. "The lot of you? Huh?" His interrogative yellows passed over all three woman. They all nodded one after the other. He accessed their responses and stares, and then he gingerly lowered Kambili back to the deck. "I’m still going to punish you all for this cat fight later."

PAH!

He slapped Kambili’s ass so hard the moment her feet were steady on the boardwalk she was nearly sent back in the air.

"—and you, quit ragebaiting her." He singled Thyra out. The curvy blonde made hot eye contact with him. "Are you gonna spank me too, sire?"

Eotigan shook his head. These girls. . .these girls were his peace. They could rile the fuck out of him, and calm him, like no other fucking creature. A unicorn, nor a dragon had nothing on them. His harem was made in Hel.

Scorching. Fiery. Otherworldly.

Unbeknownst to Eotigan, as he settled back into the recliner Thyra, Kambili and Inaia all shared looks; this was their plan. They had in unison concocted this crazy scheme to draw him out of his books, because the three of them knew that when Eotigan read, his mind wandered to Lilith, and then he remembered [Stormanos], and then the great tragedy of that night. So these days, the girls did everything to keep his mind occupied—even if it meant orchestrating a cat fighting scene worthy of the Flavian Amphitheater.

His harem would fight to keep him at peace, and in his peak, which told Inaia that no matter how afraid she was of the future, with Thyra and Kambili in it too, they had a better chance of serving her [Host].

And more importantly, keeping him alive.

"Now we’ve got your attention..." Thyra closed the copy of Country and Calm before Eotigan had a chance to go back to it—because he would, "how about we speed things up a little with this voyage? Don’t get me wrong, I love being on VACATION with you," Thyra ensured to emphasize the vacation, really meaning the abundant personal time they’d been having at night, "but," she went on, "Kam is right: foxes don’t like water—"

"Uh, that’s not what I said, but whatever." Kambili volunteered.

"Oh so now you agree with her. Now you’re all on the same page?" Eotigan folded his arms. He had an unimpressed look. The girls were now all on the one recliner with him. Thyra had taken off his book and tossed it. Inaia had her legs open at his back, brushing his wayward auburn hair. Kambili just plopped right in his lap. Apparently, study time was over.

Kambili chuckled. "When have we ever not."

It hit Eotigan then. They’d been in sync all along. His harem was full of witches. Eotigan sighed, asking the same question many conquerors of old had feared to give their women: "what would you have me do?"

In his case, he was asking three women—and they all weren’t fully human.

The smiles of the girls were generous and united. Inaia spoke from behind, weaving Eotigan’s hair, "we don’t necessarily need to spend 48 hours on the sea, do we, Lord Host?" She massaged his scalp, trusting his intellect for the interpretation. Eotigan was spot-on. Three seconds later he said, "you would have me use a [Divination]." He bent his head backward to study Inaia. Her rose-colored iris were smoky. She wasn’t budging. None of them were. And Eotigan sat straight, "let’s be clear, you all want me to manifest a [Rank S] uncommon ability to get us into COLONY faster?"

He went on. "I mean it’s either that or I conjure four sea-horses to chariot the ship." He looked from Kambili, to Thyra, behind to Inaia, "...since you lot are suddenly quiet I’m guessing you want the former?"

Three pretty heads nodded. "Shite!" Eotigan mumbled, "what don’t I do for the three of you. You girls might just make me into an angel one day," he joked. They all knew that was impossible. "A Divination it is then." Eotigan finished. And Thyra did a yippee. She had only ever read stories of ancient warlocks potent enough of [Aether] and aura to summon the power of a god—for this was the definition of a [Divination], by sorcerer standards.

Inaia was done with a short plait of his ginger locks, and Eotigan rose to his feet. From the high patio of the mighty frigate he stood and looked out into the vastness of the Cold Sea; water as far out as the eye could see, blending into the sky, in every direction. To he and the girls on the warship, it’d seemed they were the only survivors of a watery apocalypse. In truth, three weeks ago they were. A sorry thing that happened to Port Glarkis.

Eotigan shook himself, glancing behind. The girls were bundled together, standing like him, with their hands clasped to their chest. He was about to perform a literal wonder.

Eotigan put up his hand, just above his navel. His fingers formed the symbol of horns and he merged the hands. Then his voice raised darkly and loudly,

"DIVINE ARTS: Winds of Change!"

Instantly, Inaia stiffened up behind him, her eyes going blank white as she bonded his [Arcane] a thousand percent. To the other stunned girls it looked like she was having a stroke. A second had not passed when the breeze picked up, and all of a sudden Kam and Thyra wished for more clothes. Eotigan’s khaki shorts rose in this new weather. The sun dimmed so weirdly. It was as midnight at noon.

His infernal panel glowed in his face:

[DING!]

[UNCOMMON divination unlocked! UNCOMMON divination equipped!]

[ Winds of Change ]

[LORE: The Odyssey.]

[PATRON: Aries.]

One moment the gilded warship was cruising the western channel, the next the colossal vessel flew at lightspeed through the Earth’s leylines, boosting into normal time in front of a wide, octagonal land. The ship zoomed out and in so fast in the [Chronos], Kambili and Thyra were tossed forward like human bullets. And they both would’ve crashed headfirst into the sea but for Eotigan. His two hands caught and held them aboard like dolls dangling under his supernatural strength. The two girls vomited right over the deck.

Only Eotigan and Inaia were still standing on the deck, guts intact.

The pearls in Inaia’s sockets had returned. She came forward to where her [Host] stood holding up a retching Kambili and Thyra. "There!" She pointed. Her forefinger lay on the panorama of an island with buildings so slender and tall in the distance the place looked made of stick insects. Or worse, horror slender man figurines. His first question was, how could buildings that tall and thin defy gravity? Or the treacherous sea storms even? His second question: how was this the most popular island on the Cold Sea.

Inaia pointed again, at the very tops of those weird towers. "I know you see it, m’lord." Kambili stopped retching first, Thyra following after; their shimmery gazes widened as one. The girls all commented like a hive mind, "flags that fuck the sky..."

Eotigan put right back. "No shit."