VE: Mother of Tentacles Ch. 04

Vaid Empire: Mother of Tentacles is a prequel to Vaid Empire: Conquest, though acts as a complete stand-alone. No prior knowledge regarding the previous series is required.

Long before the rise of The Vaid Empire, far on the other side of Ayphieal, a young woman finds a deeper purpose beyond her own survival when she is captured and offered to an ancient monstrosity.

Ancient entities conspire to achieve hidden schemes while tentacles spread across the land in this strange and mysterious prequel.

New chapters and artwork are released every month for free, with the completely optional possibility to receive early access on the official Vaid Empire Website. The Series focuses heavily on worldbuilding, story, and characters.

***

24th of Fixuin, 768 BVE.

Deep Jungle.

Careful to minimize the wet sounds of mud beneath her feet, Aifa crept through the vegetation until she found the edge of the cliff once more. The stone surface felt wet as she carefully climbed down onto the ledge, feeling her alert antennae relax as she returned to temporary safety.

She pulled her prey from the makeshift sling over her shoulder, letting the dead creature flop on the stone floor. Plump and orange, it was no larger than her thigh, yet it'd be more than sufficient for her purposes.

"Mother..."

The voice echoed inside her head as she squatted beside a makeshift fire pit she had thrown together using discarded rocks. The fire would have to wait a moment as she turned, reaching over to caress her child. Resting exactly where she had left him, the mass of writhing tentacles reached up to play with her hand.

Grinning, no sensation had ever been comparable to the motherly love she felt now, feeling its tapered appendages explore between her fingers. Already she felt his slime tickling her red skin. Biting her lip, she ignored a tingle between her red thighs. There was work to be done.

The pitiful fire pit was quickly reignited. She skewered the prize of her hunt, placing it to roast over the dancing flames. As it cooked, she eased onto her back to rest beside her offspring, allowing him to crawl closer to snuggle against her side. She chuckled, feeling him squirm against her.

Much like Onaalag, their child possessed countless tentacles of varying sizes, yet his slimy skin was a reddish shade that was far closer to her own. She cared little that her firstborn wasn't a full-blooded Cavari, for the creature that had grown within her womb was of far more worth. Her master had granted her a gift greater than any other. She mourned him, her lover, knowing she'd do anything to protect their mutual legacy.

His many tentacles concealed a center mass that was only the size of her head, consisting of a squishy structure that contained his vital organs, yet the creature's reach was far enough to touch her head and feet simultaneously. Already he was getting stronger, seeming to grow larger each day. His many wiggling limbs slowly wrapped around her waist to hold her tight, while one of the larger tentacles slid over her belly, moving down until it glided over her bioluminescent blue labia.

She moaned before gently pushing it away, feeling the remnants of its slime tickling her loins. "No, Nula-bal. Not now," she commanded. The name had come easily, whispered into her mind until she could think of the child by no other moniker.

The same whispering presence crept through her mind now as her offspring communicated its intentions directly, much as his father had. She could feel the differences between the two magnificent creatures, her master's will proving far stronger than their days old child.

Again, the tentacle slid between her legs, licking the source of its creation. She brushed it onto her thigh, once more biting her lip. The echoing whispers inside her mind carried a warning of the creature's consuming instinct to breed, its very nature urging him to seed a womb. She thought of the many women her master had inseminated before her, understanding just how essential the compulsion was to his nature. Their children had all burned, yet hers would consume the world.

Another sneaky tentacle managed to flick at her clit before she pushed it away, groaning. It tickled the craving she had endured for days, her lower lips already soaking wet. Of course, she had attempted to pleasure herself numerous times each day following the birth, only to discover the disturbing realization that nothing seemed to satisfy her lusts for long.

Slime tingled upon her labia as the tentacle returned, and she allowed it to glide back and forth between her legs, her willpower faltering momentarily. The sensation made her thighs quiver, desperate to feel it slide inside before forcing herself to push it away. She thought of Onaalag with unease, feeling her arousal always remaining just below what she could endure without losing control. What had he done to her? The old beast had been inside her head for so long. Was it any surprise that he'd have an effect? Worst of all, she knew with certainty she never wanted to escape the damage he had done to her mind. She was his.

The meat above the fire spit as she was forced to push Nula-bal away once more. Images of her womb swelling with a new pregnancy filled her mind as her son's whispers did their best to tempt her. How easy it would be to let him slide inside, to delve into her carnal needs until her maddening urges were finally satisfied. "I said no. I can't hunt for us if I'm heavy with child. You know this."

Every aspect of her strength was required to pull away, her red skin feeling lonely and needy wherever she had felt his wet touch. She removed the meat, sinking her sharp teeth into the cooked flesh.

Nula-bal waited patiently for his young mother, continuing to whisper images into her mind of his seed pouring from her loins as his urges increased. The sight of a female form, even of his own blood, coaxed his natural instincts as his purpose called to him. Her pheromones drove him wild, knowing a fertile womb was waiting, ready.

Aifa took a break from her meal, turning to kneel as she leaned over him. Gathering her saliva in her mouth, she parted her lips to allow it to ooze forth in a thin string. A tentacle reached up, quivering as its mother's saliva contacted its slimy surface. He quickly began to absorb it, taking nutrients from her juices.

Images displaying how she must feed her mouthless offspring had struck her mere minutes after his birth, her mind understanding the process instantly. Now, trying to produce as much saliva as she could manage, she was tempted to allow him to absorb her other juices. Such was the ideal method to provide him nourishment, she knew, yet the risk of losing control over her willpower was too great. Every inch of her body and mind begged to breed, only able to stop herself by clinging to her survival instincts with desperation.

"Thank... mother..."

Finished, she smiled and caressed his tentacle lovingly before returning to the meat. Bent over on her knees, only a moment passed before she felt a slimy tip prod her feminine rump. She slapped it aside, only for two to take its place. They began to rub her red skin, the slime tingling intensely.

She moved to push them away, only to hold back. Squirming, they slithered down, nudging her labia. She bit her lip, instincts both demanding to allow them inside and screaming to stop. Her temptation was too great to bear, staying her hand as they teased her lower folds.

One began to slide inside, forcing a deep moan of pure desire from her lips. She craved to feel the tentacles of her master once more, desperately hoping to satisfy her never-ending needs. The slime tickled the walls of her vaginal canal as the tentacle pushed deep, forcing a moan of exquisite pleasure as its tip licked her cervix.

Nula-bal's writhing body shuddered, entering his first female since birth. His instincts flared, his very nature requiring him to pump his offspring into her.

"N... no... stop this..." she demanded, feeling him sliding in and out as the second tentacle teased her clit. Her loins throbbed, burning with a consuming need as powerful aphrodisiacs played across her skin. She attempted to slap him away with her tail, her resistance quickly falling away. Her own offspring was exploring her vagina, her mind melting with a sensation she never wanted to escape.

The scent of cooked meat barely managed to coax her attention, a final reminder of the reality of their precarious situation. She held no long-term plan, their survival solely depending upon the food she hunted day by day. A pregnant belly meant no hunting, no food, no... survival.

"STOP," she commanded once more, putting a renewed firmness into her tone. Pleasure pulsed through her body with each movement of his tentacles, yet a final burst of her will to survive forced her to reach back and grab them tightly.

Nula-bal could sense her fertile womb, his seed NEEDING to procreate. The slippery surface of his tentacle prevented a firm grip of her hand, yet she rolled onto her back and reached between her legs. He needed to sire his offspring, her feminine body calling to him, and his mind screamed as she struggled to yank him free.

With the tentacle finally sliding from her lower lips, she quickly covered her vagina with both hands as he squirmed against her. "Enough! Don't be foolish!"

Denied his deepest instinct, Nula-bal writhed with frustration. His tentacles wiggled in the air with fury, his mind sending hateful images into hers.

She yelped as she touched her forehead, only to watch as he hurled himself towards the cliff wall beside them. His tentacles carried him swiftly up its surface, forcing her to hurry to her feet in a panic. "Wait... stop! Nula-bal! Stop right now!"

He moved quicker than she could climb as she rushed in pursuit. Ascending back up the cliff, she watched him disappear into the foliage. Utter terror seized her as she sprinted after him, every motherly instinct driving her with panic. "No! No!"

Nula-bal was far too swift and small to keep up with, losing track of him during her mad dash. She looked around frantically before the reality that she had lost him slowly set in. She grabbed the sides of her head, emotion overtaking her as she began to sob uncontrollably.

Collapsing to her knees, there was no undoing what had occurred. Nula-bal was gone.

***

Tentacles moving swiftly, Nula-bal's senses were overwhelmed by the inhabitants of the jungle. Creatures of every conceivable shape and size lurked within the dense foliage and trees. Monstrosities, horrors, hunters, there was no end to the danger that surrounded him.

Only his speed and agility kept him from the grasp of potential pursuers. He dashed under large blue leaves, hurled himself up orange branches, and swung his central mass using grasping tentacles. Slowly, he began to calm his swarming mind, stopping to hide when necessary.

No aim remained to him but to flee in petulant anger. How cruel his mother was, denying him the very thing he craved most. She knew he required her womb. It was empty, ready for his offspring.

The world was alight with the souls of countless living creatures, flashing through his awareness. His tentacles trembled with irritation as his developing mind was overwhelmed. Life was abundant, surrounding him everywhere he dashed. Through it all he continued to sense his mother's presence, left behind as the distance between them steadily grew. Never did she diminish, her mind always there, forever connected through blood. He focused upon her, slowly calming his senses until he tuned out the world. Only then did he begin to open his mind, spreading his awareness only to his close surroundings.

He felt the creatures creeping through the trees around him, gradually learning to filter immediate danger from potential danger. As his mind calmed, he was able to extend his awareness further, feeling centered.

The cries and chirps of the jungle were a cacophony of life. As his ability to avoid danger developed over the passing hour, more of his mind was freed to focus on feeling the odd creatures around him. Every lifeform was a strange artwork, magnificently unique. A deep awe of the variety claimed him, sensing their beautiful genes.

"Seek Synaalag."

The thought was his own, as natural as his urge to breed.

Another hour passed as he continued to move. His senses gradually focused, refining. No longer did he flee, but seek. His anger had been from his Cavari blood, no doubt. It was a useless emotion, though only a harmless side effect of the necessary mixing of blood that had forged him. Slowly, it was replaced by his urge to procreate. He searched his awareness, sensing clusters of beings in the far distance whose minds were far more developed and advanced than the predators all around him. He concentrated, feeling their souls and genes until their nature became clear.

"... female Cavaries..."

Several could be reached within hours, scattered around him like a delectable feast. He needed only to choose a direction and the hunt would begin. He moved with renewed purpose, tentacles flinging his body through the jungle towards the nearest group.

The sun began to set as he traveled, each hour bringing him closer to his fertile prey. The next vessel awaited, ready to continue the line.

Night fell to plunge the jungle into darkness. The vibrant trees were consumed in shadow, yet never did he slow. Even without eyes, the world lacked mystery, his mind feeling every inch of his surroundings.

The group of Cavaries grew nearer with every mile. He felt their minds calming as they settled in for the night, slipping off to sleep.

Ahead, he sensed a cliffside rising from the jungle floor, as if the ground had slipped and fallen during the world's creation. Everywhere he traveled he sensed echoes of The Creator's hand long ago, passing unnaturally shaped boulders and arches of stone overgrown by vegetation. Here, he felt the cave complex stretching deep behind the cliff face, unnaturally symmetrical as if it were in the shape of an intricate snowflake.

"... snow..."

Never had he experienced the cold, yet a vision of a frozen tundra touched his memory. A remnant of Onaalag's mind? Black blood painted the snow, a slaughter.

The tundra was replaced by the jungle, and he put such thoughts aside. It was time to serve his purpose, and time was short.

In the darkness, he felt the lookouts hidden high in the trees beneath the cliff. Behind them, the cave entrance was concealed by branches and leaves woven into a false wall. The next vessel rested inside, one of a dozen Cavaries within the hidden refuge. It was a simple thing to scurry around the searching eyes of the lookouts, sneaking beneath the vegetation. In the darkness, he carefully maneuvered through the branches of the wall until he was inside.

The red bodies of several Cavaries slept within the entrance chamber. He slowly maneuvered around them, seeing their crude spears ready for the first sign of danger. No doubt the lookouts had a signal. These, however, served no purpose to his aims, all males. He opened his mind to sense the rest of the cave, feeling five females spread throughout. Their wombs called to him, coaxing his cravings, yet only one would be fit to continue the line.

Female bodies tingled his senses. He sensed their genes, their blood. The oldest had only just passed into her third decade, her body scarred and fit from survival. Not optimal. The others were younger, their bodies sexually ripe. He sensed two had already given birth to infants within the cave, while a third slept with an empty womb, infertile. The last, however, was utterly perfect.

His mate awaited his seed in a small chamber down one of the many cave branches. He crawled through the smooth corridor like a silent predator. Only a trail of slime offered a hint of his presence through the darkness, his wet limbs carrying him towards his target. When he entered her chamber, he immediately smelled the intoxicating scent from between her young thighs. It was a subtle smell to other creatures, hardly noticeable, yet it drove his tentacles into a frenzy. They quivered in the air, hardly controlling himself.

She rested upon her back atop a mat of roughly woven purple vines. An enchanting little thing, her bare body was sprawled on her lithe back, hands above her head. Having only just reached breeding age, her vagina waited with virgin juices, a prime vessel to birth his offspring.

A second body breathed quietly beside her. An older male, Nula-bal sensed his matching genes, assessing him to be the girl's father. On his own mat mere inches away, his sleeping face held a scowl to complement the scars across his skinny body. Both his left eye and antenna were missing, replaced by a large scar carved by a monstrous claw that had healed long ago. Even in sleep, his hands squeezed the shaft of his spear as if clinging to life.

Nula-bal crept silently towards his prey. Father nearby or not, he'd fill her womb. Such was his purpose, his part to play in the creation of a true artist.

Her thin chest rose and fell with soft exhales, her breasts small yet perky and round. The mere form of the feminine creature on display was enough to ignite a powerful obsession to breed. Reaching out, the tip of his tentacle touched her red foot, testing her. He felt her mind remain unresponsive to his presence, lost in a dream. White strands tricked down her cheeks, her hair crudely cut above her shoulders.

A touch became a caress, and his tentacle began to slide past her ankle. The bulk of his body crept closer, his appendage slowly approaching her knee. The smallest of giggles escaped her unconscious lips as his slime tickled her red skin.

As the tentacle began to coil around her leg, another ventured forth. Tiny echoes of dripping slime hit the stone ground, then the vine mat. It found her other leg, beginning to wrap around. She giggled once more, subconsciously kicking as if to throw him off. The gentle movement only coaxed his instincts to bind her, tightening his hold as they slithered past her knees.

The proximity to her fertile vagina was maddening, getting closer and closer. Tentacles crept up her thighs, making them squeeze together. The wet tendrils easily pushed through her resistance, a mere inch from her vulnerable loins.

His entire body shuddered as the tip of a tentacle nudged between her legs, making her suck in a breath in protest. Pausing, he allowed the second tentacle to continue its explorations, sliding over her navel. He sensed her young womb beneath his touch, her healthy ovum screaming for his seed. The tentacle quivered, lightly rubbing her with an obsession.

The sensation upon her belly caused her to stir. He began to guide her legs apart just enough to rest his mass between them. Additional tentacles stretched forth, wriggling as they brushed against her waist.

Every second of delay defied his nature, yet a single thought of the spear beside them was enough to stay his appendage. Others began to slither across her chest, tactically avoiding her breasts by sliding between and around them. Already she began to move, reacting to the tingling slime. Sensing her mind, he felt just how different it was from his mother's, unburdened. She lacked Aifa's mortal fear, for her drive to survive was a mere whisper compared to that of the young woman who had birthed him. Every twitch and kick came carelessly. He sent calming whispers to massage her subconscious, twisting her dreams to maintain her fading sleep.

A tentacle carefully wrapped around her neck, then her mouth, concealing a muffled giggle. Others coiled around her outstretched arms. When she was entirely in his grasp, the tentacle between her legs nudged her sweet lower lips once more.

Her mind sent a flare of resistance, yet his tendrils were in her dreams. He sent soothing whispers, manipulating her thoughts into arousing fantasies. Her memories were his playground, plucking a secret thought of a young male of her tribe. She had thought of his cock, leaving her desires lying about her subconscious. Nula-bal claimed them, bringing them to the forefront of her mind. The subtle release of hormones by a dream of the young man's touch signified his success, her body easing against his binding appendages.

The tentacle's tip licked gently between her blue bioluminescent labia, tasting her juices. It assessed the chemical composition of her natural lubrication, finding ample physical proof of her fertility. The tip carefully parted her lower folds, making her squirm at his touch. Already, her virgin tightness resisted him.

Another tentacle slithered up her bound thigh, brushing against her clit. Her legs clenched, groaning against her slimy gag. He felt her mind recoiling from the false dream.

How exquisite Onaalag's mental control had been. The girl's mind would've been torn asunder with ease. Nula-bal, however, required a subtle touch, else he'd lose her. The dream shifted, her imagined male kissing her gently. Her hips lightly moved as a mental hand caressed the valley between her legs.

Another rub against her clit caused a shudder of her thighs as the slime served its purpose. Another muffled moan came as the tip between her lower lips pushed further, sliding into her sweet tightness. He sensed a flare of pain as her virginity was stolen, his whispers oozing pleasure to keep it from touching her mind. She squirmed as she was entered, the slimy tentacle gliding deep into her vagina.

Nula-bal's tentacles tightened their hold to restrict her movements. His form quivered in euphoria, feeling her squeezing around his intrusion. A buck of her hips excited his nature, sinking deeper through her resistance.

The dream began to collapse as his concentration slipped, her imagined male fading. She moaned, her eyes fluttering open. Realization shattered her sleep, panicking as she tried to struggle.

His tentacles squeezed, holding her limbs tightly as she fought to protect herself in terror. He began to thrust gently as she cried out, her voice muffled. His concentration resolidified, attempting to sooth her mind as the tentacle slid in and out with wet echoes.

Struggling, she squirmed as the whispers restrained her panic. Her father continued to breathe softly beside her, undisturbed by the tiny wet noises of each writhing tentacle caressing her body. An adult male Cavari would be Nula-bal's end, yet she was overpowered.

He felt her mind reeling, sending reassuring thoughts to calm her panic and confusion. Images of her imagined male crept through her thoughts anew, her thighs trying to squeeze shut. He coaxed her natural draw towards the male of her own age, mixing a natural sexual urge with the pleasure of his tentacle.

The ecstasy of pushing deep into a tight vagina was overpowering, his desire consuming his actions. No inch of her loins was a mystery to him as the other tentacles caressed her red skin. They slowly circled her breasts, feeling their petite round shape as they lightly jiggled with each of her straining movements.

When the tip of the tentacle licked her cervix, tracing the deepest part of her loins, she clenched her body hard. His own strength met hers, offering no escape.

A tentacle brushed over her nipple, feeling it harden with an arousal she fought against. Slime tickled her skin, forcing a muffled moan her father didn't notice. His antenna subtly perked, yet his mind was lost to sleep, unable to save his offspring. She whimpered, her hands clenching into fists as they were held above her head.

Thrusting harder, the other tentacles explored her fit young body. She was the next vessel, the continuation of their purpose. Her womb was his, tentacles wrapping tighter around her thin waist. Her body was a masterpiece, their blood readying to mix into something new and unique.

The tip of the tentacle at her clit flicked back and forth slowly, summoning her juices further. She was his sustenance, his body aching to impregnate her. Red skin grew wet with slime, rubbing every inch of her delectable form.

"The vessel obeys."

He tasted her memories, her mind as open as her legs. A vision of her childhood here, a thought of her first hunt there. This creature had lived a life. This creature had been loved. Now, she was his seedbed. Now, she squirmed against his writhing tentacles as he bred her.

Every moan brought new arousal, her struggle subtly easing. The slime drove her wild, oozing from her vaginal lips with each wet thrust. He sensed her pleasure gathering, nearly able to touch it within her mind. He had sensed his mother's numerous orgasms, yet now one developed by his own doing. It sat in his mental grasp, a growing bubble of pleasure. His whispers caressed it, nurtured it, forcing her thighs to quiver as it neared its peak. With awe, he watched it burst with a final hard thrust, feeling it erupt throughout her trembling body.

A muffled cry echoed quietly as his tentacle tightened around her mouth. He held her orgasming body, constricting her limbs as her glowing blue eyes rolled back. Her lithe back arched in his grasp, her juices squirting.

The scent of her pleasure enthralled his senses. Her father's antenna twitched, unknowingly detecting the pheromones from his daughter's cumming vagina. The man stirred, though didn't wake as the tentacle continued to thrust in and out.

A wave of euphoria washed through her body as her skinny muscles eased, her mind struggling to recover. Resistance was an urge that lay shattered between them, sensing her desire for more. A deep shame began to seep through her blushing cheeks, and he felt her disgust at herself as she savored the tentacles between her thighs. She was beginning to break.

He plucked memories of past masturbation, bringing them to the forefront. Nights spent with her hand between her legs behind her father's back now flowed through her thoughts, forcing a moan. Never could her own touch compare. The writhing tentacle inside her was the greatest pleasure of her life, the other rubbing her clit.

Her chest rose and fell with aroused breaths. His pace increased. Squirming tentacles caressed her nipples, making her struggle within his grasp, now seeking more.

The tentacle massaging her clit lightly circled her sensitive blue bud. The appendage lifted, oozing slime from its tip before resuming. Her hips gently bucked, her loins tingling maddeningly. She felt his strange juices in her deepest depths, tickling her cervix. He felt her enduring the bizarre sensation, a young mind tasting a stimulation it had never experienced.

Every wet thrust built his need to reproduce. Her fertile body was his, her womb entirely at his mercy. He whispered an image of her belly swelling with his offspring, feeling her panic reignite. She squirmed helplessly, moaning as his tendril pumped in and out.

"The vessel obeys."

She clenched her eyes shut, trying to resist before they fluttered open. Whimpering, a deep emotion of submission seeped through her being. He seized it, growing the feeling until it crept into every aspect of her mind. The sensation of her constricting bindings, the powerless frustration of her fate, each was forcefully paired with her submission until she groaned in pleasure. There was nothing she could do to stop him.

Once more he offered a vision of her coming pregnancy. Once more she squirmed. Now, he sensed a hidden desire, birthed of his manipulation. Her mind had shifted. Squeezing her limbs, he sensed a flare of submissive lust.

As his control increased, adapting to her mind, more of her was revealed. Searching her memories, he found a name. Darmi.

"Darmi... fit to continue the line."

She struggled in his grasp, only enough to remind herself how helpless she truly was. She savored the sensation, moaning as the tentacle continued its maddening rhythm in and out.

No other place was more natural for his slimy tentacle to be than inside a fertile vagina. Such was his purpose, to breed, to dominate, to create. He sensed her body clench with an ache to mate, an urge she both feared and craved.

Once more her pleasure built, alongside his. The time was approaching. A feeling of finality seeped through him, preparing his seed. Her healthy young body was his, ready to carry his child.

His whispers soothed her, allowing pleasure to take the place of her panic. Her body writhed in bliss, womb calling to him. The tentacle lapped quickly at her clit, a reward for her growing obedience.

As her body prepared to cum, his tentacles tightened around her limbs, savoring every inch of her feminine form as he approached his own finish. Thoughts of their future offspring ran through his mind, calculating the endless combinations of their mixing genes. The tentacle around her waist tightened, almost as if it could seize the delectable little womb beneath.

When her orgasm erupted, his tentacle began to spew his seed deep inside her. The rush of warm sperm made her cry out, her bound body shaking. The mental tendrils holding her mind forced her to convulse as he enhanced her pleasure, nearly overwhelming her from his inexperienced control.

Every tentacle writhed wildly as he filled her, his seed oozing heavily from her tight loins. A slight expansion of the tentacle as sperm pumped through its length was nearly visible, unable to regulate his outflow.

Her eyes rolled back, his mental hold maintaining her climax beyond a natural level. Tentacles squeezed tightly, nearly enough to hurt.

The mat below her was utterly drenched, continuing to pump his seed well beyond a necessary limit. A single spurt would ensure a pregnancy within a healthy womb, yet he couldn't stop. She was his. The first mating of his life consumed him, obsessing in maintaining his satisfaction for as long as possible.

Beside them, her father's antenna twitched at the scent of foreign seed. He shifted in his sleep.

Darmi's entire body remained clenched uncomfortably, her breath seized in her throat. His inexperience was proving dangerous, increasing her pleasure well beyond her endurance. He needed to release her mind. He needed to stop.

Every ounce of his willpower was required to drop her pleasure, mercifully fading her orgasm as he ceased his spurting tentacle. His tendrils collapsed limply, having released FAR too much.

She convulsed before falling unconscious, joining him in exhaustion. Her father shifted uncomfortably.

As Nula-bal basked in the aftermath, utterly satisfied at having fulfilled his purpose, he pondered if he had damaged her mind before a vision eased through him. His tentacles seized, then relaxed as a deep understanding claimed him.

He sensed her father's eyes opening. He felt the man's horror, his advanced vision offering enough in the dark to understand what had happened to his daughter.

"Nula-bal understands."

He offered no resistance as the man hurried to his feet. Exhausted, he couldn't escape even if he wanted to. The vision remained inside his mind, waiting peacefully, for he was but a small piece of a larger design.

"Nula-bal has served. Nula-bal is ready."

The man raised his spear. As he drove it downward with savage fury, a single thought remained.

"Seek Synaalag."