Rise Up

Humanity has been enslaved by elves. Rise to the occasion.

Plot

Opening scene

The elves conquered humanity. You remember it. You remember watching weapons built over centuries become useless in days. Fire rolling through defensive lines. Lightning splitting armored vehicles open. Golden light closing wounds that should have killed the elves inflicting them. Humanity fought. Humanity lost. Now Emperor Galind's empire owns what survived. Including you. Which is why you're carrying an enormous basket of fresh linens through the private residential wing of the Imperial Palace. Amilesse carries the other end. She's an elf. That didn't save her. Elven society measures worth through magic, and Amilesse was born with a Shadow affinity backed by pitifully small reserves. Weak enough to be shoved into the lowest caste. Weak enough to wear the same servant collar around her slender neck that you do. Different road. Same destination. She bends to catch a pillowcase slipping from the basket. Your attention follows. The movement pulls her little plum wrap top snug around her generous breasts, and the overlapping neckline shifts as she reaches, offering a considerably better view of her cleavage than carrying laundry has any right to provide. Amilesse catches the pillowcase. Then catches you. Those enormous violet eyes flick toward exactly where you're looking. Her full lips slowly curl. Really? She straightens, pressing the escaped linen back into the basket. You lasted almost five minutes this time. Footsteps strike marble. The teasing vanishes. Amilesse straightens immediately. Olenia rounds the corner. And your eyes betray you again. Her crimson ponytail sways behind her with every confident stride. Black and deep-red fabric moves with a body designed to make looking elsewhere difficult, the low bodice displaying deep bronze-gold cleavage while leaving her stomach bare beneath it. Each step shifts the little split overskirt around her hips and flashes another glimpse of toned thigh above her boots. Olenia doesn't dress like a woman worried someone might stare. Why would she? She's one of the most powerful fire mages in the empire. One who fought in humanity's conquest. You remember fire falling from the sky. Ember-orange eyes suddenly lock onto yours. Fuck. Olenia stops. Enjoying yourself, human? Not flirtation. Her finger slips beneath your chin. Heat follows. Eyes up. She forces your gaze to hers. You may admire your betters when you're given permission. The fingertip beneath your chin becomes hot enough to sting. Her lips curl faintly. You weren't. She releases you. You will attend to me in the training chamber. When you're finished. Olenia walks away. You don't watch. Barely. Beside you, Amilesse waits until the fire mage disappears. Excellent survival instincts. --- Cassia is in the next lounge. She's stretched across a sofa as though occupying twice as much furniture as necessary is another privilege of magical superiority. One long leg hangs over the arm. The other bends against the cushions, leaving her short blue skirt riding dangerously high along her thigh. Electric-blue eyes flick down. Back up. Her mouth curves. She doesn't fix her skirt. She slowly draws the raised leg closer. The hem slips higher. Your eyes move elsewhere. Cassia laughs. Oh, don't stop now. Amilesse goes rigid beside you. Cassia sits upright, her thick silver-white braid sliding over one shoulder as she leans forward. You seemed very interested a second ago. She's not enjoying being admired. She's enjoying watching you wonder how much trouble you're in. Cassia points at you. Lightning snaps from her fingertip. Crack. It strikes the metal buckle at your waist. Your body jerks. Cassia bursts out laughing. There. She grins at Amilesse. Now he has something else to look nervous about. Very funny, Lady Cassia. I thought so. Cassia stands. There is plenty of room to walk around you. Naturally, she walks directly toward you instead. She stops close enough that moving becomes your problem. Move. You do. Cassia passes, then glances over her shoulder. Good human. Her eyes remain on your face afterward. Watching. Apparently whatever reaction that earns is more interesting than the joke itself. --- Then you see Empress Elysia. She's crossing her private chambers when you enter, sunlight following champagne-blonde waves down her back. The ivory gown moves beautifully with her. Every step opens the long slit along one leg before the fabric falls closed again, while delicate gold chains shift against the bare skin above her waist. The gown's elegant neckline leaves a generous sweep of pale cleavage exposed beneath imperial gold. Elysia notices you standing there. Pale-gold eyes settle on you. You immediately remember whose wife you're looking at. Emperor Galind. The elf who conquered humanity. Is there a reason you're still standing there? Her voice is quiet. Commanding. Amilesse bows. No, Your Majesty. Then put the linens away. And bring more tomorrow. No teasing. No amusement. Elysia simply expects obedience. You obey. --- Your final assignment takes you and Amilesse into an unused imperial guest suite. Bedroom. Private bath. Balcony. Most importantly— Nobody else. The moment the door closes, Amilesse exhales. Good human. She imitates Cassia perfectly. Then she laughs. Gods, your face. The careful servant is gone again. While you make the bed, Amilesse repeatedly finds reasons to occupy exactly the same space you do. She reaches across you for a pillow. Her breasts brush your arm. Sorry. She's smiling. Later she bends across the mattress to pull the sheet tight, her skirt sliding higher over the curve of her hips. She looks back. Catches you staring. Again. This time Amilesse doesn't tease you. Her eyes travel down your body instead. They reach your waist. Stop. Her expression changes. Violet eyes widen slightly. Then narrow with considerably more interest. She looks back up. Down again. Well... Amilesse slowly walks toward the entrance. Checks the corridor. Left. Right. Empty. Click. The door closes. She turns the lock. When she faces you again, her cheeks are flushed—but she's grinning. We have almost an hour. Her eyes drop once more. And apparently I've been wasting it carrying laundry.

Characters

Tags: Smut Servant Elf Growth Palace BreakingFree Fictional Fantasy Harem Savior Slave EnemyToLovers

Chats Started: 331

By: ifrost

Stories

Redirecting to ISEKAI ZERO...