Headed by a Snake

** Content Warning: Dark and graphic **

⟬ Just before dawn... ⟭

The paltry defenses of the Moonwell Enclave were woefully inadequate against the likes of Konstantin Dunzis.

Granted, he had a very particular magic skillset-- one difficult to obstruct by conventional means.

And of course, it was most effective against elves... his preferred prey.

The descendants of the fae loved to compare themselves to humans.

They prided themselves on their illustrious histories. They cared only for their perverse sense of beauty in what they considered 'natural.'

They convinced themselves... that their Elven eyes and ears could discern the the secrets of the Realm, without fail.

That arrogance... was a weakness Konstantin always found amusing.

Since he was a neophyte, he had an uncanny talent for Illusion Magic.

It was unthinkable for the common Illusionist,to attempt fooling Elven perceptions.

However, once a certain level of mastery was achieved, the simple-minded creatures would discard their established perceptions... and fully embrace any reality he deemed fit.

Only the most talented individuals kept their doubt intact...

Those... were Konstantin's favorite.

For years, he sought a solution... a way to perfectly subdue those rare and clever creatures.

He had thought amplifying his illusions with Blood Magic to be the answer... but an Archmage is never satisfied with their research.

Then... he found the answer he sought in an ancient tome.

It held rare and forbidden magic... created by a breed of monsters that no longer exist.

Older than men. Older than even the elves.

The Elven bloodline was notoriously resilient against Domination Spells.

However... against the Dragon Magic of Kyrj Kira'ak, that was simply untrue.

Konstantin propped himself up on the pillow and leaned over Ophelia's sleeping form.

Her intelligent mind, wondrous... her virginal body, most delectable...

She deserved her fate... to be conquered... to be made subservient to a man of his greatness.

The woman suffered a fitful rest, tossing and turning throughout the night, her expression twisted with whatever droll nightmares she submit herself to.

Konstantin admired the effects of his magic... ⌈Draconic Domination⌋.

It forced Ophelia's subconscious desires to surface... and with a subtle tough of his illusory magic, she begged him for the pleasures of the flesh.

But still... somewhere deep in her psyche... Konstantin held the suspicion that she was aware of her manipulation.

Perhaps her nightmares comprised her sins... reliving her experience, again and again.

Would she remember her tears of pain, losing her purity on her work desk?

Would she remember how she called out the name of her husband as she grinded her hips atop of his own?

The thought brought Konstantin no small amount of gratification.

He had outdone himself.

He absentmindedly traced his finger along her slim neck and naked breasts.

Dark bruises marred her fair skin.

A dark line remained on her inner forearm, from where he drew her Gold-Rank blood.

However, staring at the back of his flamescarred hand eliminated his satisfaction.

The illusory magic from the previous night had run its duration. No longer was he a handsome half-elf. He was... human-- the flesh of his face, a melted, misshapen grotesque.

According to his findings, the Arcanite Princess was a friend to Tycondrius of Charm.

That hateful man was the reason Konstantin could no longer show his true face to his subordinates.

That man's Sol Invictus. Had somehow infiltrated his Magic Tower in the Kingdom. They killed his slave. They left behind an insidious trap that ruined his face and scarred his body.

And the bastard Baron, himself... he took the virginity of Aurala, a woman that rightly belonged to him.

Konstantin slapped Ophelia across the face.

"Awaken, whore," He commanded, "Lay witness to your infidelity."

The elf shot awake, wide-eyed and panicked. Before she could scream, Konstantin tightly grasped her neck and stared into her eyes.

"Now, now, Princess... I need you to reflect on it... and ⌈Quietly⌋."

The weak, naked child trembled beside him... reminding him of her convulsions of twisted pleasure, the night previous. However, Konstantin was no longer interested in breaking in her body further.

She was defiled-- that which he desired, already taken.

Even the thought of touching her grew revolting.

Konstantin pushed the filthy creature away, removing himself from her bed. Approaching a standing mirror, he hid his deformities behind his his well-practiced illusions.

Again, he was no longer Konstantin Dunzis, the monster of the Sleeping Country... but Constantine the Silver, Archmage of the Sapphire Tower.

The slut Princess coughed violently, rolling out of the bed and crashing to the floor. Standing quickly, she assumed a martial stance.

She looked pathetic... naked... tearful... and unstable to steady herself.

"Wh... who are you?" She asked through her rolling tears, "What... have you done with my husband? Answer... me... please..."

Her legs shook... likely from the pain of her torn vaginal walls.

It brought Konstantin a sliver of dry amusement... but he'd seen the exact scene dozens of times in the past. All Elven women were the same, regardless of their nobility or status.

Before he could respond, the elf's eyes again widened in shock.

She had noticed the blood on her sheets.

The source should have been obvious.

Ophelia collapsed onto the cold tile of her bedroom floor, the final vestiges of her mental defenses crushed by despair.

Elven women were too easy.

Konstantin yawned and stretched his body... then cursed quietly to himself. Moving so carelessly opened parts of his face and burnt skin. He felt the pus seeping out from the cracks... hidden by his masterful illusions.

...Again, the fault belonged to that accursed Baron.

After the accident, Konstantin could not perform the simplest of tasks without being reminded of his hatred.

He would not rest until that man's complete and total destruction.

Not bothering to clothe himself, he walked over to Ophelia to inspect the effects of his magic.

According to the dilation of her pupils and her unmoving state, she was completely enthralled.

Gold-Rank Folium Cyclone, Ophelia Moonwell... a fearsome foe on the battlefield... but a simple whore in the confines of her bedroom.

Using his magic, Konstantin tilted Ophelia's chin up, "Do you understand what you have done?"

A tiny flash of violence crossed her eyes-- quelled immediately by his tyrannical Domination.

The tears began to flow, soundlessly as his magic bid her to.

"Last night... I did not... lay with my husband," She said.

"That much is obvious," Konstantin sneered.

"I... have betrayed him. My... love... for him... was it all... a lie?"

"Indeed," Konstantin groaned, "And what are you going to do about it?"

Ophelia shut her eyes and blood ran down her mouth from biting her lip. She was struggling against his control... but her resistance was futile.

Finally, she relaxed her body... and accepted her fate.

"I... no longer deserve to live," She whispered.

"That would be appropriate, yes," Konstantin nodded. "I don't want to be implicated in anything troublesome. Go ⌈Kill Yourself⌋ someplace isolated, will you?"

One of the weaknesses of Domination Magic, even as strong as Konstantin's, was that suicidal orders were tentative, at best.

However, Ophelia was already determined to die. As such, in her hypnotized state, Konstantin's suggestion was enough to push her over the edge.

Ophelia stood up and walked over to her pile of torn and discarded clothes.

If she were to be seen, it would cause suspicion... and certainly shame to her and her house.

Fortunately for her, the sun had yet to rise. Ophelia would die at least keeping that honor intact.

She did not deserve it... but her quiet disappearance behooved his plans.

"Have you put thought into your destination?" He asked.

"The Tree God... has forbidden elves from entering his forest," The elf said in a monotone voice. "I will go... to meet him."

"That will do," Konstantin smiled, ignoring the pain from the bleeding corners of his lips. "Ah, but before you go, I need you to ⌈Artifice⌋ a scrying item for me."

",