== VORTEX QUEST 3-3 ==
== ASHES TO ASHES ==
Zooming above the sands in Ardor's tiny boat, Chay was painfully aware of the vessel's weak points. A few well directed kicks and even his barely enhanced strength could have made it crash and that wasn't even mentioning the drift engine's fairly lose attachment to the soul gem at the leftmost proto-arcane injector.
He tried to lean back and relax. Getting demon-fucked always left him a weird mix of riled up and unwound.
His skin was slick against his friends'. The zipping boat was quite crammed with two large demons on the center table, the Aeobold at the rudder console and the demigods leaning on struts at the front. The Glooper had oozed into the underslung engine space.
The demons were having some kind of leaky blood sausage that made Chay's stomach churn. Bones crunched in their mouths.
The demigods had gotten bota bags full of water and Chay gladly cooled down his insides.
"I really can't think of a way," Ardor said, wiping blood off his chin, "to find the Wandering Oasis. When I need to reach it on purpose, it takes me days of drifting up near the realm separation layer."
"Is there a pattern to its movement?" Chay asked.
"Yes, but that's a matter of decades. Unless you're incredibly lucky I fear finding the vortex, haha... It would almost be easier to flip the whole..." The fallen angle chuckled to himself, then his face fell into deep contemplation, then quick shock. His eyes met a confused, then amazed Tfeccan.
Chay analyzed. They had realized the same thing. Something that was obvious but considered impossible.
"The king's preference?" the umbralist guessed. "Make King Vaagh'tang flip from desert to ocean and the whole vortex things becomes moot?"
The demons – and demigods – stared at him. Even the lizard at the helm turned his way.
"Galant told me you're the smart one," the Nephil said. "Yes, if Hakkri becomes disfavored far ahead of schedule, the chaos would kill the vortex project and probably a few important champions."
He looked up at the `sky' where foam whirls drifted like clouds. Night fell and the nearest sun shone blinding light on the ship as it swiveled upward, lighting up the other half of the realm, its dark side to the sand.
"Every cycle," Ardor said, "some people try to usher the flip in early. The other side would like to be preferred, so they're willing to offer deals and treaties to anyone speeding up the process. It's rarely more than a matter of decades and the next flip won't happen for a few hundred years."
"Can you introduce us to the interested parties?" Chay asked.
The Wretcher nodded on behalf of the fallen angel. "The revolution," he said, fangs flashing in his bat snout.
Chay rolled his eyes. "As in rebelling' and in cycling'. Funny how that works in Pandemonic, too. So you know those guys?"
The Fiend scratched his chin. "As soon as we're home, I'll send word."
===***===
A tower of dead coral pierced the land of Hakkri like a structurally implausible skyscraper. Chay had been on the empire state building once. This tower was barley shorter but not even half as thick.
Large parts of the pale, organically patterned pylon were serrated edges and windy holes, leaving little surface as living space.
The boat docked, quickly secured by two Goblins in patterned kilts, overseen by a Hellion whose skullhead was fully covered by a spiky helmet. He was swinging a whip but didn't hit them, and their green, lean bodies showed no marks.
Chay tried to puzzle out their loyalties and roles in case the pantheon needed to fight their way out of Ardor's stronghold.
The place was no less strange than the cave-castles of other lords but much more airy, with a warm breeze and even light making it through the dried coral leaves. The main room contained the throne where Ardor sat down to read. Gomes carried a tray of bubbling liquids to him.
The demigods found a place on mats along a wall where slaves rested. The pantheon fit in just fine among the buff humans with very short hair or none.
Two were catatonic shades, one seemed pretty aware but scared, another was chained to the ground, drooling, masturbating, nose sparkling with unicorn dust.
"Are we good?" Goro asked.
"Far as I can tell," Chay said. "They're honest about flipping the world upside-fucking-down. Demons always have a dozen schemes running, mostly against each other."
"Good enough," Marcus said. "I'm gonna drop."
Chay got to take a well-deserved nap.
He woke up horny.
That wasn't unusual but in the abyss the horniness was a different beast, making his dick claw at his brain. The urge to pointlessly hump the floor like a rabid freak was always part of the wakeup call.
The demigods were fingering each other's holes before they had even opened their eyes. Piss drinking followed, to quench the curse-thirst.
Goro opened the foam-gourd and they seamlessly transitioned into a fisting orgy. Marcus sprayed glitter on the slaves' faces and the sleepily fisting pantheon was surrounded by masturbating hunks like a nectar vision come to life.
The beauty of getting punched in the ass by Goro while arm-penetrating Xane woke Chay up better than his usual cup of mate, jog, shower, and – when he had a girlfriend – morning fuck.
Licking cum off random slaves' abs and thighs was exactly as gross as he had feared. He saw Goro deep throat a black guy's whole dick, mumbled "fuck it", and licked the jizz-covered shaft of some buff Frenchman. He was grateful the slaves were barely conscious.
Chay's lightly glowing crotch flared up and the junior Wretcher floated into the room.
Tfeccus folded his white bat wings as the demigods hurried into their fundoshi.
"Fuck," Marcus said. "Where's my thong?"
"Slave's sitting on it," Goro said and pushed a man over.
Chay involuntarily moaned as the fabric touched his sensitive hole. His whole body was still in fisting mode with the afterglow of whole-body pleasure ripples.
"My contacts were receptive," Tfeccus said, arms folded. "You can join the revolution." Marcus wooed. "But they want proof of your abilities. You won't take the regular entrance, but an ancient, blockaded one. Make it inside and you're accepted."
"Sounds doable," Chay said, forcing authority into his voice. "Let's go, guys."
The Wretcher led them to the tower rim. There was a brief debate about using Xane's butterflies for flight but the entrance to the Revolutionary Academy was close by.
They jumped.
Drift-flight was still one of the most exhilarating abilities their magic allowed. Chay floated as straight ahead as possible as he naturally descended. Xane's butterflies drew spirals around them.
Tfeccus took the pantheon to an unassuming rock formation that split at his gesture to reveal a chute.
"Clear the path," the Wretcher said. "It leads past a Holy Spire. A friend named Bvr'gvaaagh" -a Boldian name meaning Sharp Eye- "will await you at the academy back entrance. Good luck."
He reached into his leather straps. "Oh and here's a little something I didn't get around to selling yet."
The demigods eagerly reached for the two flasks of nectar. Chay shared his with Marcus. It was just the rush of brain-sex they needed to throw themselves into a reckless adventures in narrow tunnels with no plan.
Goro jumped into the chute first, Chay followed, sandwiched between the massive dude and Marcus' lithe muscles. He slipped the fundoshi aside and turned on his aegis to have some light on the bumpy ride.
Hakkri lacked the fully connected crawlway of other realms, but still had plenty of underground structures with little crawlway pieces. The ride was probably a shortcut of a dozen miles, ending in a wider, disused tunnel where imps nested.
Chay's crotch lamp and Xane's palm orb illuminated the sandy path. Pie rested on Goro's head, observing the surrounding.
The tunnel broadened into a minor chamber, stalactites and columns blocking the view. Black gung covered the ground and mining equipment. There were white pearls all around, some larger than Chay's head, poking through the gunk. The remainders of shells littered the sand.
Marcus gave the gunk a kick. It rose as smoke... much like Chay's own umbra-magic. There was a rare creature, only really found in the desert, which...
"Oh shit," the leader said. "Cinereant. A real one."
Ash shot up like black geysers. The air seemed to tremble.
"It's not as big as it looks," Chay shouted. "The real beast is somewhere inside the ash – producing it."
If you were being attacked by living ash, your best option was water, but if there was a convenient source nearby someone else would have taken care of it already. The second best option was...
"Vacuum it up. Xane we need a container big enough."
"Gonna take some fucking time," the mage said but started grabbing iron plates from the pearl mining equipment.
The ash formed human shapes. Lighter, dust-like ash closed in from above.
"Hold your breath," Chay shouted and let smoke drip from his skin, hoping it would serve as a barrier.
Goro punched the approaching ash-figures which did nothing. They couldn't hurt him either, not directly, but layer after layer of ash descended on the powerlifter. He'd suffocate eventually.
Chay realized he could take over and puppeteer one human-shaped form at a time. As soon as he started piloting the humanoid pillars, the creature somewhere inside the dark mass stopped making them and simply came at the demigods as a wall of particles.
Marcus was coughing. Gunk had forced itself into his nostrils. Pie repeatedly rushed across his face to wipe what she could.
"We're fucked," Chay said. "Retreat."
The exit was blocked by ash growing ever denser. Chay forced his way through like walking in strong wind. Every inhale was a gamble as his smoke pressed against the denser one.
Xane used three motes to create a whirlwind that sucked ash from the exit into the room, clearing their escape.
Dark tentacles poured in from the side as fast as Xane could remove them. Pie got sucked into the vacuum and flung into the gunk wall piling up behind the mage.
Marcus was on the ground, unable to breathe. Chay dragged him up. The exit was filling up with ash even as Xane kept sucking it into the room. Ascending the chute was going to be nearly impossible.
"Inward! Chay shouted. He pushed out a cloud to combat the ash but finer ash filled the gap. "Run for the (cough) tunnel. Xee turn the (cough) vaccum arou- (cough)."
He dragged Marcus along.
"Wait!" shouted a raspy voice in an odd dialect of elementic.
An area of two feet around the umbralist cleared. A gray humanoid with no facial features emerged. It spoke by rubbing ash together as vocal cords, imitating the language of Glitzers and Gusters.
"I have your friend," the ash beast said.
Chay looked around. Goro was gone – maybe. The ash clouds were so dense, a dozen people could have stood right next to him and he wouldn't have known. But the creature seemed to believe what it said. In fact...
"You want a trade," Chay said. "Someone in exchange for Goro. No, something that makes you sad. Killing?" Subtle signs of surprise, of disappointment. "No, not quite killing. Attacking someone you hold dear."
The Cinereant's dark clouds calmed down and gave up another foot of space.
"One of mine has been poisoned," the ash man said. "I cannot reach her. If I could, maybe there is a way to undo the damage. If not I will have to end her suffering."
"And you'll trade Goro for your friend? Are you the reason this entrance can't be used?"
"Yes. Others who live farther in refused to aid me."
"So... if we help, you'll let people use the passage again? Sounds like a fine deal. We'll want inform-"
Fear struck the Cinereant. It turned in an attempt to evade.
Goro broke through the darkness, black gunk clinging to his sweaty skin like body paint, deepening the shadows of his insane musculature. His long hair flared around his rage-contorted face, heavy with ash.
He rammed his fist into the creature, hard enough to make it break in two. It reassembled in a shower of gray particles, halfway inside the dark mass.
"Stop!" Chay shouted. "We're talking it out."
Goro froze, fist raised. His lips curled in a snarl. "I got turned around. Kept following openings but they all lead to dead ends."
"Yeah," Marcus said, dismissively. "Ashy tried to trap you, meathead. So boss, are we still doing the trade?"
Chay shrugged and felt Pie slither up his back. "If that clears the path, mission accepted. But," he turned to the Cinereant, "we'll want more information. Who is this friend?"
===***===
Deeper along the tunnel was a Holy Spire, buried ages ago. The impossibly ornate assembly of gold arches was only half as large as the one in Jheyr'Udd and Chay suspected the other half was buried elsewhere. It looked fractured on one end.
Holy vapor surrounded the area with a few `untwisted imps' fluttering around, their cherubic features contrasting with their haggard appearance.
Goro carried a huge box of iron, mended together by Xane from half a dozen crates and mine carts like a cubist statement piece. The other three carried an iron box they had filled with water from a stream that ran in a dead end cave nearby.
"Piss first?" Chay asked.
"Yup," Marcus said. "But do we drink, too? I'm not really thirsty."
Goro hummed. "We'd be wasting it."
"Got a taste?" Xane asked with a wide grin as he stepped out of his fundoshi.
"Hydration is a top concern for..." Goro started, then rolled his eyes with a grunt. "Fine, don't complain when you're dying of thirst and I've run empty."
"I'm with you," Chay said. "Let's stay topped up. You first?"
Goro went on his knees with his face between Chay's legs, lips around the aegis. The urge to skull-fuck Goro was overwhelming enough to give Chay weak knees and tightness in his crotch.
Abyssal horniness was ridiculous. Half the time he felt like just on the cusp of orgasm and maybe ten percent of the time he felt somehow beyond that – yet without the sweet relief of orgasming. Having the massive hunk's face between his legs would should by all means have made him cum automatically.
And he hadn't even liked blowjobs much, back on earth. Then again, no girl had felt like pure sex the way muscle man now did.
With all these thoughts crowding in his mind, Chay freely pissed down Goro's throat.
Amazingly, putting his own head between the crazy low body fat thighs of the mania-warrior was even more erotic. Chay fingered his nipples just to be reminded that he couldn't satisfy himself anymore. And the taste of piss, frankly, wasn't that bad.
"Alright," Xane said. "Even considering all the things we've done that felt faggy as fuck to watch. But I gotta say I'm a little thirsty now."
"You know what that means," Marcus said, smirking, pointing at his crotch.
"Oh fuck," Xane said. "Should have sucked off Goro's cock cage. Ugh, fine. But no weird shit."
Marcus had a blast play-humping Xane's face, hands on his head, until the Korean shoved two fingers of his mage-hand into the Filipino's hole to keep him still with a prostate massage.
It was true, seeing Xane's mouth gulping on Marcus' crotch would have been the peak of gross-out comedy for Chay's college student self. Now it was... still funny but concerningly erotic.
Marcus drank from Xane, who in turn used his mage hand to keep Marcus' throat in place and pulled him away, pissing in the kneeling man's face.
"Xee," Goro said, "play fair."
Xane rolled his eyes but water-bended his flow down Marcus' throat. Accommodating, but it still left piss spilling on the drinker's chest anytime he swallowed.
"Just wetting him up for the plan," Xane said with a grin.
Somehow Chay felt like the plan had little to do with it. But a plan they did have.
Dressed again, the pantheon stepped into the holy mist as it parted on Chay's behest. Pie hung out on his shoulders, rubbing gently on his cheek, as he pushed back the fog as much as the Spire's innate defenses allowed umbra-clouds to move it.
Xane shot purple bolts at any imps that came too close. His eldritch energy undid the divine effect on them, gruesomely disintegrating their bodies. It was a bit like shooting headless babies which didn't sit totally right with Chay but was clearly Xane's – and Marcus' – brand of humor.
At last, the untwisted creature they sought attacked with the full force of pure white ash. Chay took control off a human-sized part of ash coming their way and pushed it back.
"Now!"
Marcus and Goro dropped the liquid container and shoveled water with bare hands at the ash closing in. Wet clumps dropped where their splashes hit. Anytime a tendril reached their face, they splashed water on themselves.
Chay and Xane were protected by an air bubble of thaum-magic around their face each.
With the remaining three motes, Xane started his `turbine'. They swirled like an air phantasm, pulling in holy mist and ash like a vacuum and spewing it behind the demigods.
Pie dashed into the air whirl and got shot out the other end just to hop back in. If she hadn't been silent, she'd have screamed for joy, Chay figured.
"She's this way," he said and the Korean muscle wizard adjusted.
With the magic fan and dull splashes in the background, unable to see anything in the cacophony of mist and ash, Chay fanned himself a corridor. Somewhere here... The center of ash production...
Xane marched on with his turbine overhead while the other three pushed the mended-together crates into position.
The Cinereant became visible as Chay forced the mists to part around her. Pale ash in a vaguely human shape, protected by tendrils of bright particles that streamed in to protect the center.
Xane aimed the fan and the Cinereant broke apart. Bit by bit she drifted into the fan, unable to walk off in the wind. The fan sucked her right into the bumpy container.
Chay waved his fan to catapult Pie out of the way. She got the message and hid behind the box.
Marcus' weapon zoomed in and ran through the ash woman. As much as she tried to reassemble herself, she could only break apart in the storm.
Within seconds, she was sucked into the box and Xane began the slow process of metal bending. One of his motes was spent, the other two continued to blow wind as the other demigods splashed their prisoner with water.
When the box was shut, the silence felt oppressive.
Marcus clapped to make sound. "Shit, I'm raining ash with every motion. Xane, clean me up."
The mage leaned on the cubist prison with one beefy arm and rubbed white ash from his mohawk with the other. "Give me a second to recover, asshole. I just did a lot of fucking magic."
"Who's taking about casting spells?" Marcus said. "Use your tongue." He turned, pushed his ass out and slapped his own, chalk-dusted glutes.
"Let's get this over with," Chay said and waved Goro to pick up one side of the prison while he grabbed the other.