Empath Rising

  The Heartstone Saga

  Book 1: Empath Rising

  By

  Archibald Bradford

  Copyright © 2017

  Cover Art by Erik Von Lehmann

  http://erikvonlehmann.deviantart.com/

  Introduction

  Empath Rising is the first book in a series that tells the tale of a lonely orphan who rescues a Minotaur girl only to have her fall madly in love with him.

  WARNING: This is a work of erotic fantasy, there is nudity, swearing, a bit of violence, and plenty of naughty sex between man (and woman) and monster girl/girls. If that isn’t your cup of tea please give this book a pass!

  Otherwise please enjoy!

  This book is dedicated to the one who wrote it, because that guy is fucking awesome.

  Prologue:

  A Brief History lesson

  Eons ago, in an age lost to myth and legend, man and monster met for the first time.

  Their interactions were peaceful at first; the tribes of girls man initially encountered were gentle and curious creatures that wanted only to please their new friends. But man was selfish and eventually sought to enslave them. The gentle creatures had never known such cruelty and had no defense against the violent predilections of man.

  But they were not the only breed of monster. And their sisters were very angry with man.

  He learned to his detriment that not all girls would bow before him. The magic of the spirit breeds, and that of the temperamental elementals, and even the elusive Witches, tore the primitive humans asunder to free their enslaved sisters. Man fled before the preternatural fury of the magic tribes, but as he fled he encountered the warrior breeds, the Wolfen, Amazons and Valkyrie to name a few, who set upon him with great vengeance.

  Man survived but was forgetful, he remembered only the rage of the monsters and not what caused it. He bore a dreadful grudge. He was also cunning; he founded an empire, and rallied all of his brothers to his side with promises of riches, slaves, and conquest.

  Now we step out of myth and into history.

  This empire was known as The Divine Republic. All of man’s ingenuity united with one common cause. Ancient engineers produced wondrous machines and engines of convenience rarely seen in the world today. They also produced weapons to match the destructive capability of their ancient foe, the countless tribes of the monster girls.

  The inevitable war was terrible.

  Eldritch energies and electrical currents battled across the sky as the mortal enemies sought to end each other. Wondrous cities vanished along with all of their technology as the ground itself turned against them, while whole monster villages were incinerated by man’s mastery of fire.

  Millions perished, many monster girl breeds were lost forever.

  The turning point in the war was when the noble Valkyrie fell; in a snow covered field outside of a defenceless village they stood their ground against the dreadful war machines of man, their sparkling shields blunting the alchemical blasts created by man’s cunning, sparing their helpless sisters and giving them a chance to flee. When the smoke cleared only one Valkyrie stood, her body torn, her lifeblood spilling into the earth. When she saw that all of the other Valkyrie had perished she stumbled off into the snowy wilderness, her still-glinting shield hung low, heavy on her arm.

  With the loss of the Valkyrie, the fury of the Amazons was unleashed; they were the closest friends of the heroic Valkyrie and in their rage and grief they tore through the defenses of the capital city of The Divine Republic and struck down the human emperor. It was no victory though, for with his dying breath he ordered a devastating counter attack: the entire arsenal of man was unleashed and the magic users of the monster tribes could only counter with their own destructive might.

  The world was shattered.

  In the aftermath, ash rained from the sky for years, no crops grew; countless humans and monsters starved while huddled together for warmth, enmity forgotten in the face of the bitter cold caused by the absence of the sun.

  It was just after this terrible time, after the fall of man and monster alike, that a hero emerged. Her name was a mystery. She was a war orphan, her parents killed in the calamity, but beyond that, little was known of her origins.

  What was readily apparent was that she wielded the shield of the last Valkyrie, something that no human could ever do, and yet she did. One legend claims that she came upon the dying Valkyrie and comforted her while she bled out in the snow. It is also said that the Valkyrie saw the goodness in the heart of the human girl and gifted her with her shield and the strength of arm to bear it. This was all supposition; the girl herself never told the story of how she acquired the shield and in the end, it was what she did with it that mattered.

  When the last of the ash from the calamity fell, she set to work.

  Whenever conflict arose between man and monster, she was there. She would leap between them and stop them from fighting, stop the cycle of hatred from continuing. To the shock of all, she did this by directing her brilliant shield at man, and only at man; her back exposed to the tooth and claw of what should have been her natural enemy, but the monsters never struck. Unlike man, monsters were not forgetful; they recognized the shield that she bore, and they remembered the sacrifice of the Valkyrie. Wherever she appeared, the monsters would invariably lower their arms.

  Man, on the other hand, remained a stubborn creature. Many times she would break up a fight only to come under attack herself, but no weapon of man remained that could best the shield of a Valkyrie. Both sides were forced to listen to her words of peace; and perhaps unsurprisingly, it was the broken tribes of the Amazons who were the first to rally to her banner, to rally for peace.

  Inevitably, man did as well.

  This striking figure led man and monster alike in the efforts to rebuild the world, indeed to build a better one, and she attracted countless followers: people who had known only war and were sick to death of it. Eventually an agreement was struck. It had long been the nature of the monster girls to seek out worthy mates and confer upon them their heartstones, spherical gemstones no bigger than a marble. This trust was what man first exploited, so if they were to live together in peace then someone had to prevent this from happening again.

  They turned to the nameless woman.

  Her human and monster girl allies conferred upon her a title that all deemed fitting: The Aegis. And with that title she swore an oath that reverberated throughout history:

  I swear to safeguard the hearts of the innocent;

  For their peace is my prosperity,

  Their bond is my sacred trust,

  Their love is my eternal joy.

  Any who will join hands with these devoted girls will forever earn my protection.

  Any who will seek to harm them will incur my most terrible wrath.

  In this I am the shield, and I am the sword.

  I am The Aegis, and this I swear upon the blood of the Valkyrie.

  These words became known as The Aegis Covenant, and by the end of her lifetime the oath was spoken by thousands of humans and monster girls alike.

  It is the duty of all Aegis members to not only safeguard monster girls, but control access to what little remains of the lost technology of the Divine Republic. Weapons, they destroy, wisely not trusting in the destructive nature of man. Engines of convenience, they excavate and refurbish to make people’s lives easier, but by and large the needs of the living were seen to by the peaceful collaboration of man and monster.

  For their part, monster girls are roughly divided into three categories: the tamed, the untamed, and the bonded.

  The tamed girls have entrusted their heartstones to humans, who then care for them in exchange for their service. It is the instinct of the m
onster girls to submit to the owners of their heartstones. Most orders tend to be followed: “Please stand there, pick that up, rub my shoulders.” But tamed girls cannot be ordered to do anything their heart knows is wrong and they can never be ordered to have sex. The humans who hold the heartstones are monitored by the Aegis and are required to have proper training and licenses to be allowed to handle them.

  Unfortunately, many ‘tamed’ girls have had their heartstones stolen, either by trickery or by force. And unscrupulous humans can always find ways to manipulate these vulnerable girls to get what they want. Such is the greed of man.

  As for the untamed, there remain many wild monster girls who will only confer their heartstones upon a human who they deem worthy, or who they have formed a bond with. These girls are fiercely independent and only the bold will attempt to tame them. Because their autonomy is protected by Aegis law, if a human is too persistent or too stupid to understand that no means no, they may find themselves in a shallow grave or in the belly of a Dragon while the Aegis simply stand by and watch.

  And then there are the bonded, these are monster girls who have formed a permanent connection with a human. Tamed and untamed alike allow humans to handle their heartstones, all in the hopes that they will find a bond-mate.

  Bonded monsters are the very embodiment of devotion, willing to do anything to please their loves, their husbands, and ultimately their masters. Although the form this devotion takes differs wildly from breed to breed: A bonded Amazon behaves very differently than a bonded Truffle! Every member of the Aegis has at least one girl bonded to them, and, while not a rare occurrence, the bond is regarded as sacred and inviolable by all monster girls, indeed most humans.

  Sadly, the dark nature of man can never truly be conquered, and though the Aegis stand resolute in the face of it, they cannot be everywhere. It is a weakness of the monster girls that by trusting their heartstones to man they leave themselves open to his darker urges. If a human is abusive enough, or cruel enough, a girl’s heartstone will dim, until the light of her crystal eventually goes out and darkness takes its place.

  These girls become beings of rage and hatred: Lost Ones, Dark Ones, Tenebrae, all names for the same thing. No man survives the birth of a Lost One, because if the girl does not kill him then the terrible vengeance of the Aegis will. The creation of a Tenebrae, accidental or deliberate, is a crime punishable by death. That being said, it takes years of abuse for a tamed girl to succumb to the darkness, and usually the Aegis steps in long before it gets that far.

  However, a bonded girl can fall to the darkness in as little as a day.

  They are particularly vulnerable because their hearts are completely open to their bond-mates. Their master cannot hide any emotion from a bonded girl as they can sense it through their heartstone. Fortunately it is a rare occurrence, as monster girls tend not to bond with humans with such hateful dispositions.

  This has been the state of the world for nearly a millennium; the heartstones of countless breeds of monster girl are traded openly under the watchful eyes of the Aegis. The long war was a distant nightmare and the world enjoys an easy peace, with man and monster living (mostly) in harmony.

  Having said that, peace rarely makes for a good story.

  Chapter 1:

  Crossing Paths

  Nameless the orphan woke with a start, he had been dreaming about a shadowy figure in terrible agony. This was not the first time he had such a dream so he wasn’t as disturbed as others might have been by the nightmare, but he was still drenched with sweat and couldn’t stop shaking.

  She had been in so much pain.

  Gradually he settled down and got out of bed. It was just after dawn and he had a couple hours yet before he had to go to work. Nameless ran odd jobs all over the small farming community of Kettering and had been asked to stack some firewood by Tom Loskins, the local baker.

  He ran his hand through his matted hair and grimaced at the unpleasant sensation. He was loath to bathe only to work up a sweat later but he didn’t like the grimy feeling which wouldn’t help to improve his standing in the local community.

  He was small, barely a man. With narrow shoulders, short cow-licked sandy brown hair and mud coloured eyes. After washing up he got dressed, his clothes hung loosely from his narrow frame; hand-me-downs, the kind of clothes fit for someone fresh from Mistress Ophelia’s Home for Lost Children. He was a quiet boy, having learned a long time ago not to draw attention to himself given his small stature.

  He puttered around his dank basement apartment, the only dwelling he could afford to rent (barely) given his low social status. After tidying up a bit and eating a very light breakfast of bread and a bit of cheese he decided to head to the bakery, thinking that being extra punctual might earn him some points with the baker.

  This had been his life for the last two years, ever since he aged out of the orphanage. He had not been a good student in school, not that he was lazy or stupid, just not gifted in any of the intellectual pursuits. He had few prospects, but he refused to accept charity, Ophelia had taught him a long time ago that a man had to earn his own way. So he ran whatever odd jobs popped up, barely keeping a roof over his head and food in his belly. His outlook on his own future wasn’t very bright.

  He arrived at the bakery nearly a full hour before the baker did, and seeing no reason not to, he began to stack the cords of wood that Tom had showed him the day before. Even in the early morning chill he soon found himself sweating, he was not a muscular man and struggled with things that came easily to others.

  Soon enough Tom arrived.

  “Well, someone is eager to get started! How long have you been her boy?”

  “Not long, Mr. Loskins, I woke up early so…”

  “Fair enough, makes no difference to me, make the next few piles closer to the ovens though.” He vaguely gestured to the externally fed ovens on the outside of the building before he went inside to start his day.

  Nameless’s arms were burning by this point and he had barely scratched the surface of the massive stack of wood. Evidently the men who had delivered it had simply dumped it in a haphazard pile, much to the chagrin of the fastidious baker. But the orphan didn’t complain, he had a full day of work now and the baker had agreed to pay him eighty coins along with a couple loafs of fresh bread to clean up the mess.

  His stomach growled at the scents coming from the bakery, his pitiful breakfast long since forgotten. Lucky for him, shortly before noon Cordelia, one of Tom’s daughters, brought him some biscuits that were too old to sell and a full pitcher of water.

  He was parched and downed half of the pitcher right away while the apron-clad brunette watched him like he was something unpleasant that she had nearly stepped in. The biscuits were a little stale but still good.

  “My father wants to know how much longer you are going to be.” She didn’t look at him, instead examining the flour under her fingernails with a frown.

  “Sh-should be another few hours yet.” He stammered, unused to dealing with girls, and uncomfortable with her obvious disdain for him.

  She glared at him in response, clearly thinking that he was being lazy, even though in reality he was drenched in sweat and greatly fatigued.

  “Pfft, it’s a good thing you aren’t getting paid by the hour!” She sneered and whirled to go back inside.

  Nameless let out a shaky breath, then returned to work.

  He finished just after four o’clock and went inside to receive his payment. Standing off to one side unobtrusively and patiently waiting to catch the busy baker’s eye. Unfortunately Cordelia noticed him first and stomped up to him once she was finished with the line of customers.

  “What are you doing in here you little orphan?! You look gross and are going to scare away the customers!” She had both hands on her hips, her face a haughty glare.

  “S-s-sorry! I’m finished now so…”

  “So what?”

  “T-T-Tom hasn’t p-paid me yet.” He was incredibly un
comfortable, face red and eyes on the floor as he stammered at the bitchy girl.

  “Hmph, well whatever.” She finally released him from her glare and went to get her father.

  Soon enough Nameless stood in the baker’s office, while Tom counted out his coins. The baker made no mention of his promise of bread, merely paying the poor boy and sending him on his way. Nameless was too flustered by his surly daughter to bring it up and simply left.

  He got about fifty feet away from the bakery when the girl caught up with him, grabbed him by one shoulder and whirled him around, slamming the promised loaves of bread into his gut.

  “My dad says that you forgot these, you little parasite.” She stomped off; clearly angry that she had to deal with the lowly orphan again.

  Nameless sighed, glad that his day was nearly over; he had to pick up a few things from the market and so he tried to shake off the unpleasant encounter, stowing the bread in his little sack along with the pouch of coins. It wasn’t easy for him. He had always taken such things to heart and would no doubt feel the sting of her unkind words for years to come.

  He noticed a crowd had gathered in one corner of the market, which he would have ignored except he could’ve sworn he heard a girl crying. With a frown he moved to join the hubbub.

  Unbeknownst to him his life was about to change forever.

  Having joined the crowd Nameless was as appalled as they were at the scene that unfolded before him. He watched on as a much larger man wearing a rough hide jacket and adventuring gear jerked hard on a leash that led to a collar around the neck of the piteous Minotaur on her knees before him.

  “You worthless cunt! How dare you ruin that sale! Without milk you are useless to me! Fit only to be sold to the highest bidder!”

  Her floppy ears wilted as she whimpered, not in fear but in humiliation, as he had torn her shirt off in preparation for what came next, her impressive breasts naked to the public eye. Despite being a Minotaur and thus far stronger than the man holding her leash, the girl was powerless against him as he undoubtedly held her heartstone.