"A little slower, Lily." Arthur paused on the steep trail, his breath rattling in his chest. He pressed a heavy hand against his knee, waiting for his racing pulse to slow. "I can't keep up with you anymore."

Lily didn't stop. She glanced back over her shoulder. "Those are just excuses, Dad. Hurry up! There’s a cabin nestled right between those pine trees."

"Lily, wait. Stand still." Arthur’s voice sharpened, cutting through the wind. "That’s the worst drop-off on the whole ridge. Just give me a second."

Lily stopped, crossing her arms. "Why are you acting so weird, Dad? The old Dad would have said, 'Wait up, I'm racing you to that cliff!'" She dropped her pitch, doing a flawless, lighthearted imitation of his deep voice.

"Yeah, well, I would have said that if we’d planned this camping trip weeks ago," Arthur muttered, his voice strained and thin. "Not when I'm dragging myself onto a trekking trail straight from a twelve-hour shift."

He dropped his heavy pack onto a flat boulder and slumped down next to it. His fingers fumbled with the zipper, pulling out a dented aluminum water bottle.

Lily walked back a few paces, her boot tapping impatiently against the dirt path. "Dad, come on. The sun is already dipping behind the peak. We have maybe ten minutes of daylight left."

Arthur didn't answer. He watched the horizon. The orange glow was bleeding out fast, swallowed by heavy purple shadows that stretched like long fingers across the trail. The path ahead was vanishing into the gray gloom of twilight. A cold knot tightened in his stomach. He had always hated the dark out here.

He dug into the bottom of his pack, his fingers wrapping around the cold metal of his flashlight.

Click.

The bright white beam sliced through the dusk, catching Lily straight in the eyes. She blinked, blocking the glare with her forearm.

Arthur managed a weak smile. "Alright, Princess. Lead the way to the castle. Just don't drop the light, or we're sleeping right here on the dirt."

Lily took an overly dramatic breath, her chest heaving as she snatched the flashlight from his hand. "Don't you trust me? Who takes care of this old soldier at home, anyway? When you drag yourself through the front door after work, who actually brings you your water?"

Arthur let out a soft chuckle, stepping back onto the trail behind her. "Keep moving, Princess. Less drama, more walking. Before the monsters catch us."

As he watched her boots kick up small puffs of dust in the flashlight beam, his chest tightened with a familiar ache. The sharp tongue, the stubborn stride, the dramatic hair flip-she was turning into Margery more every day.

Arthur looked up at the first few stars piercing the dark sky. Give her a good life, he thought, a silent plea he repeated every night. Keep her safe. And Margery... if you're up there watching, put in a good word. He might listen to you.

By the time they reached the porch of the small wooden cabin, the mountain was pitch black. Arthur knelt in the dirt clearing near the door, striking a match to a small pile of dried pine needles and twigs until a modest fire crackled to life.

Lily leaned against the doorframe, rubbing her eyes with the back of her fist. "Dad, why can't we just build the fire inside? It's freezing out here."

"No chimney, kiddo," Arthur said. He reached into his pocket and handed her a clean napkin filled with wild blackberries he’d picked earlier along the path.

"Eat these. We’ll sleep inside where it’s blocked from the wind. Early tomorrow, we’ll catch the sunrise right on the ledge."

Lily took the berries, offering a sleepy grin. "Don't worry. I'll make sure you don't sleep through it."

"Oh, really?" Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Is this the same girl I had to drag out of bed for her first day of primary school?"

"That was Mom’s fault!" Lily protested, tossing her head defensively. "Besides, things are different now. I wake up on my own."

Within an hour, the fire outside died down to a quiet bed of glowing orange coals. They moved inside, stretching out on the hard wooden floorboards with their heavy jackets pulled up to their chins.

It didn't take long for exhaustion to win. Soon, Arthur’s heavy, rhythmic snoring filled the cramped, dusty room.

Lily tossed and turned on the floor, kicking her jacket off in a sudden wave of restlessness. She stared up at the dark, exposed rafters of the ceiling, listening to the roaring vibration echoing next to her.

"Great," she muttered into the dark, mimicking his deep rumble with a theatrical groan. "No fan, no air conditioning... just a human chainsaw. Zzzzz... zzzzz..."

Eventually, sheer exhaustion pulled her under.

Lily woke with a gasp.

The cabin was freezing, the air thick with the smell of old dust and dead embers. She reached out, her fingers sweeping across the cold, empty floorboards where her father had been sleeping just hours ago.

"Dad?" her voice crackled in the dark.

No answer. The rhythmic snoring was gone, replaced by a suffocating silence. Panic surged, hot and sharp. She scrambled to her feet, shoving her hands into her empty pockets.

"Dad!" she screamed, the sound bouncing harshly off the wooden walls.

A heavy hand suddenly clamped over her mouth from behind. Lily thrashed in terror, but the familiar scent of pine tobacco and old wool instantly calmed her. Arthur pulled her down into the shadows beneath the window frame.

"Calm down, I'm right behind you," Arthur whispered in her ear, his face dead serious. He leaned closer, narrowing his eyes as he stared out the broken doorway.

"Listen to me. A few minutes ago, I heard the sound of someone walking nearby."

Lily’s heart hammered violently against her ribs. "Oh Dad, I've seen it in movies. Strange people live in jungles like this. They kill people. They eat them." Her voice shook, a sob catching in her throat.

Arthur suppressed a tiny smirk in the darkness. He hadn't heard a single thing. He had simply woken up early, noticed how peaceful the woods were, and decided it was the perfect opportunity to get back at his daughter for teasing him earlier.

"Let's go outside and take a look," he said, forcing a brave, solemn tone. "Besides, if anything happens, I will protect you."

Before she could protest, he poked her shoulder. "Anyway, the sunrise is about to happen. Let's go watch it."

The moment Lily heard the word sunrise, a spark of her usual stubborn energy cut through the paralyzing fear. She pushed past him toward the door. "Come on Dad, hurry up or we'll be late! You always need a rest after walking just a few steps. If we keep going at your pace, we'll miss it. Hurry up!"

"Dad, let me hold the flashlight," Lily insisted, reaching for his pack.

Arthur snapped his hand back, keeping up the act. "No! Someone is nearby right now. Walk close to me."

Internally, Arthur was highly amused. He knew that if he didn't show Lily the sunrise today, she would stubbornly drag his aching body back up this brutal mountain trail again tomorrow. He just wanted to get this over with, but playing along with the spooky atmosphere made it fun.

They walked tightly glued to each other, stepping out onto the rocky path toward the cliff edge.

Unbeknownst to either of them, a heavy, multi-limbed shape shifted in the deep fog just a few yards into the treeline. It swayed on thin, spindly appendages, its chest expanding and contracting with a wet, whistling sound.

"...if I blow out my breath forward with force... I will fly forward..." a confused voice uttered softly. It was a high-pitched, metallic rasp that echoed unnaturally through the pines. "...and if I blow it backward, I will fly backward... The Boss said to go toward wherever I see light... but right now I don't see any light at all. I should wait a bit..."

Arthur and Lily reached the edge of the sheer drop-off.

Arthur was genuinely struggling to catch his breath from the climb, while Lily held onto his arm so tightly her knuckles were white, flinching at every rustle of the wind.

"Dad, when will the sun come up?" Lily asked, her voice small and frightened.

Arthur looked down at her and grinned. "Yesterday you were walking miles ahead of me. What happened now, coward?"

"I am not a coward!" Lily snapped, puffing out her chest and trying to find her footing on the loose gravel. "I just woke up from sleep, that's why I'm talking like this."

Arthur decided to pull the final trigger on his prank. He pointed a finger into the dark mist behind her. "Lily, look over there!"

Lily spun around, completely terrified. A sharp cry of genuine terror burst from her lips, and her eyes began to well up with tears.

Arthur burst out laughing, clapping his hands. "If you are scared, just admit it! What is there to be afraid of, you coward?"

Lily realized she’d been tricked. Her fear instantly turned into a cute, defensive pout. "Dad, I am going back to sleep. First of all, the sunrise isn't even happening yet, and on top of that, you are just teasing me."

"Won't you feel scared going back alone?" Arthur said. He dropped his voice into an eerie, exaggerated horror-movie tone before breaking out into loud, booming laughter.

But his laughter was cut short.

"...I don't feel like sitting idly... let's go for a stroll..."

The exact same high-pitched, unnatural voice echoed from the rocks directly behind them. It wasn't Arthur.

Arthur froze, the smile instantly wiped from his face. A cold sweat broke out across his neck. "Lily... did you hear something?"

Lily sighed, rolling her eyes, assuming it was just part two of his elaborate joke. "Dad, stop it now. I admit it, okay? I am a coward."

Just then, the first faint rays of amber light pierced the mountain fog, hitting the rocky ground. The sunrise was finally beginning, painting the sky in brilliant strokes of gold and pink.

Distracted for a split second, Arthur pointed toward the horizon, trying to shake the sudden, suffocating dread in his chest. "Lily, look, look! Sunrise is happening."

"Wooooooo, it's so beautiful!" Lily gasped, her fear completely forgotten as she stared out at the glowing valley below. "Dad, by the way, how many times have you seen a sunrise like this?"

"Be quiet and watch the sunrise," Arthur said with a forced smile, his eyes still darting nervously toward the long shadows behind her.

"I think you are seeing it for the first time too," Lily laughed.

Amused by her own joke, Lily turned around to look at her dad—but her eyes traveled past his shoulder.

Standing in the pale morning light was a towering, dark-coloured entity. It stood easily eight feet tall, entirely hairless, with a smooth, faceless dome for a head. It had a single, elongated human-like arm jutting from its chest, and its lower body rested on eleven thin, twitching legs that shifted silently like a centipede. It was moving right toward them.

The air completely left Lily’s lungs. "GHOOOOOOOOSSSTTTTTTT!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Arthur whipped around in pure shock. His brain stalled as he spotted the impossible creature.

The moment the entity heard Lily's piercing scream, it panicked. As a sudden self-defense mechanism, it raised its single hand and began to scream as well—a deafening, metallic screech that shook the gravel beneath their feet.

Unintentionally triggering its strange biology, the creature’s chest exhaled a massive blast of force. It flew toward Lily at a blinding, mysterious speed.

Before Arthur could even reach out a hand, the entity slammed into Lily. In the blink of an eye, both the creature and his daughter plunged backward off the edge of the cliff. "Dadddddd.....--"

End.

Is this good enough? my grammar, word selection, pacing, dialogues, etc anything over the top?

What worked and what didn't work ( tell me )

"Continuity is not commanded. It is remembered."

   Source unknown

[First] | [Previous] | [Cover Art] 

| Aboard The Kestrel, JSOC Facility, location redacted |

*** Somewhere in proximity to Dock Seven.

Chen felt the console vibrate, and as he watched, more alerts popped up. The synchronisation events were spreading.

He looked for Rockson, saw him at the back, hunched over his console.

Chen caught his eye and pointed to the Colonel, then to his console.

Rockson pointed to his, “I’ve got more updates.” He mouthed.

Chen nodded; Rockson tapped his ear, then updated him over a private comm. “The centre just changed. Shifted. Same position, different harmonics.”

Then Chen made a decision. “Come.” He said to the Colonel and started off up the ramp.  The aide recovered the console from Chen and followed, watching updates arrive in ever-increasing numbers.

He spoke to the Colonel.

“Seal Dock Seven. Immediately!”

“Err. Sir… We already did.”  Then, after a pause, he added, “Twenty minutes ago.”

“Then who just authorised all this internal movement?”

The Colonel caught up with Chen, who had stopped just short of Rockson. He was about to speak, but Chen stopped him

“He’s Ok, I think we’re both going to need each other.”

He looked at the Colonel, who nodded agreement.

Rockson wasn’t sure.

“Feebee?” he gestured towards the Colonel.

She thought for a moment; one thing Chen was good at was picking the right people. It was his super-power. After all, he’d picked her.

‘I agree.’ Said the QI, much to Feebee’s surprise.

“It’s OK,” she responded and walked over. “But not them!” She snapped, pointing at the two security guards who were starting up the ramp.

They stopped before Bikky and Tom Tom needed to say anything. One, much older, looked relieved.

Rockson was looking at a harmonic map of the area around Dock Seven. Ripples spread out from below, and where they hit it, the whole structure responded. Only slightly, subtly, but enough for Rockson’s console to map it.

“How?” asked the Colonel.

“It’s a beta of some new StabSys tech we're developing for mining. It maps where the disturbances begin and predicts how they’ll propagate through anything connected.”

The Colonel looked at Feebee. “What?”

She laughed, “It tells us where it started.”

“Why didn’t he say that?”

“I did.” Responded Rockson, indignant and looking for support.

One of the accountants mumbled something. The aide smiled but kept his peace.

As they watched, ripples slowly expanded as if crossing an impossibly large expanse of deep water. They spread out from the point below Dock Seven. It was the source, the focus.

Rockson adjusted the display.

“No…” he murmured.

“What?” asked Feebee.

“They aren’t dissipating.” Answered the accountant.

The Colonel turned to Chen.

“You’re right, we need to work together on this.”

“Agreed.”

He then looked to Feebee. “Because you can do what I can’t,” he said cryptically.

Then he marched off The Kestrel, the aide at his side.

“I like him,” said Feebee.

“Good man.” Added Chen.

Rockson focused back on his console; replayed the telemetry. Took some measures, checked them.

“Not possible.” He shook his head and looked at the accountants.

They shrugged, “It’s normal space out there.” Replied one of them, “Energy disperses.”

“Even in a vacuum?” asked the lawyer.

“Yes, even in a vacuum. It’s radiation rather than conduction. Even at the quantum level…”

“Enough.” Shouted Feebee. “The ripples are staying the same, not dispersing.”

Then the QI spoke up, “We sure it’s energy?”

That stopped the conversation. Then the accountants started arguing, and Rockson joined in. Feebee stared at the display; she’d seen something like this before. Not the pattern but a feeling inside that was just on the edge of awareness.

She sat down, closed her eyes and stopped listening to the room. Her breathing slowed.

Tom Tom watched as Bikky took the empty chair beside her.

“He we go,” he said.

She felt Bikky join her and quickly dropped into a state of awareness that allowed Feebee to feel the patterns that gently coursed through local space. She matched her breathing to the pulses.

“What are they doing?” asked the lawyer.

Tom Tom didn’t look away.

“Listening.”

“To what?”

“The bit underneath all the shouting.”

“It’s the Dust,” Feebee said quietly.

And in her mind's eyes she saw reeds swaying as pulses passed through them. Just like waves emanating from below Dock Seven. The same height, the same frequency. The same.

Quietly, almost as a whisper. “It moved through the reeds like this.”

Then her eyes snapped open. “The Crucible.”

The QI froze the display. The wavefronts overlapped perfectly and carried on.

Then after a pause the Shadow added, “Continuity.”

Rockson replayed the moment and frowned, “So?”

The accountant zoomed in, “No look. There’s no interference; they don’t cancel or sum. They just… pass across each other.”

The Shadow had moved to the display and spread across its width. Motes aligned and flowed around StillFall in curving lines. All moving in the same direction, all to the same beat. That of the pulses on the screen.

The Shadow reached out with dark tendril-like extensions of its border and rested them in the flow lines, within the ripples.

Nothing happened. But as they watched, maybe everything did.

StillFall’s outline became almost solid. Much sharper. Defined.

Feebee felt it. Saw its movements were somehow more comfortable, calmer. Garaf was watching too and looked at the prisoner. He had stopped breathing. Wasn’t dead, just holding his breath, as if waiting for permission to breathe.

“Fear!” Said Garaf decisively.

The prisoner didn’t answer. His eyes locked on StillFall. Never leaving them.

Then the Shadow spoke. Very quietly, almost unheard.

“Anything tuned to it resonates.”

No one responded, then Rockson spoke, searching for understanding. “You mean harmonics?”

StillFall slowly turned towards him. “No.”

No one seemed to understand, but Garaf noticed that the prisoner had become agitated and was murmuring again.

Then he said, “The old warning…” but cut himself off.

Garaf moved close, quickly and asked him, “What warning?”

There was no implied threat, just a search for answers.

The prisoner responded, “They wrote…”

He stopped.

Garaf encouraged him.

“They wrote that when they begin finding one another…” his eyes lifted from the floor and found the Shadow. “That then, everything that still remembers will answer.”

“And?” asked Garaf.

But it was clear that the prisoner was done; had nothing more to say.

The QI highlighted a ripple on the forward screen.  Then another. Then another. Each started somewhere different, but all bent around, finishing at the same point below Dock Seven.

Then it spoke, “Look, there.”

The QI enlarged the display. “No.” It paused; they all noticed; it was for seconds.

“They aren’t waves. Not as we think of them.”

“What are they then?” asked Feebee, getting impatient again.

“I think they’re like clocks synchronising to a common time.” Said the QI.

“Or tuning forks checking they are in harmony and adjusting.” Added the lawyer.

“Yes. I think they’re reference signals.” Said the QI. “Establishing a common frequency.”

StillFall moved and spoke; motes were in tow.

"Anything tuned to it resonates."

Then Feebee gently said, “Like the reeds.”

Everyone looked at her, not understanding.

Except Tom Tom.

“They all bent together.”

Feebee nodded.

The lawyer looked up. “You mean the motes resonate?”

StillFall responded. “No.”

It then turned, as if scanning the room. Looking at Feebee, Garaf, the prisoner and then the ripples.

The motes stopped moving around StillFall, and it spoke, “They remembered.”

[First] | [Previous] | [Cover Art] 

This thread is where all the Writing Prompts go, we don't want to clog up the main page. Thank you!

Previous WPWs: Wiki Page

Author's note: So I came across Coyote_Havoc's Among the Stars a while ago, and immediately had an idea for a continuation set in the same universe. I asked for and received permission to post it, so now that I've sufficiently obsessed over trying to get the formatting right, it's time to do that! If I didn't get the formatting right, I sincerely apologize, technology is not my strong suit.

----------------------------------------------------------

“All vessels, all vessels, all vessels, this is Terra Command speaking. Please respond in sequence, over.” I promptly hit my head on the communications array in my desperation to jump up from where I had been working on it what felt like all day.

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” The ship's cat hissed, running off down the hall. Whoops, I must have scared him. I went to prep the transmitter, waiting my turn. Toledo class vessels were near the end, so I had time. I listened to Mother Terra check in on each of her children, trying not to hyperventilate. We’d gone down about a year ago, and I’d spent the last nine months on my own in a near-ruined ship, with just me and the cat, Max. 

“UTS Picard, Enterprise Class, Captain David Ross reporting, all quiet here by Andromeda, mother.” Hang on. They’d skipped the Toledo classes.  I swallowed down another lump of panic. I’d check in after the call to the stars. Mother Terra remembers and loves all her children, that’s what we’re taught. Breathe, Abby. Wait until after the call to the stars. Mother Terra started calling out to her lost children, in chronological order, as per protocol, and then-

“UTS Houlihan, Toledo Class light cruiser. Michael Hunnicutt commanding, 260 souls aboard. 57 years among the stars.” What? No. How-? I fumbled for the receiver. 

“UTS Houlihan, Toledo Class here, or what’s left of her anyway. E-Ensign Abigail Reese reporting. Not sure where I am, Mother, but we went down somewhere near Cassiopeia. 1 survivor, ‘less you count the cat. Mother, confirm- you said /57 years/ among the stars?” Temporal anomaly. Had to be. There was no other explanation for it. The other end was silent for far too long. “Mother Terra?” The communications crackled back to life, the voice on the other end wobbling somewhat.

“Ensign Reese, please confirm vessel code.” Aw, hell. I knew that was around here somewhat. I started shuffling the papers around. 

“Hang on, I don’t have it memorized, and Captain Hunnicutt’s papers aren’t exactly organized. And if you’re about to question why I don’t know it, ask yourself why an engineering apprentice her first year out of the Academy would need to know the vessel code.” Mother Terra sounded almost amused.

“You’re from the South.” Oh, had my accent come out? I wondered why.

“Heart o’ Louisiana, ma’am. Born ‘n raised. Vessel code, vessel code… ha! Okay, here it is: Echo 1 9 6 3 8 Bravo Alpha Hotel 4 0 7.” A moment of quiet as Mother Terra, presumably, typed our vessel code into her database. 

"Alright, Ensign Reese. Hold on just a moment, I need to confirm something." I swallowed.

"Don't go! Please. I've been trying to get this thing up and running for the past nine months. Er, at least I thought it was nine months. I- I don't know if I can stand the silence again." Mother Terra took a slow, deep breath, probably encouraging me to do the same, which I did. I had wondered why her voice sounded different from our usual Mother. Had to be because our previous Mother was no longer working at Terra Command.

"Ensign Reese-"

"-Abigail. Please. If you have to insist on formality, okay, but I at least have to ask you to call me Abigail. Or Abby." I heard my voice crack on the last word. "Please?"

"Alright. Abigail. Abigail, I don't have a protocol for this. I need to check with a supervisor. I understand your concern, though, and I think I still have the programs for some old hold music, from the 20th century. Would you be alright with that?" I nodded, then remembered she couldn't see me.

"Okay. That'll work. I just want to make sure I don't lose you again."

"Of course. I understand. Give me just a moment, Abigail." Terra United's theme came piping across the speakers, and I let myself relax. Mother Terra loves and protects all of her children. I'd be alright. I settled for fiddling with navigation again, trying to see if there was anything I could do. There wasn't, but it made me feel better to have something to do. After a few minutes, Mother Terra came back on. 

"Alright, Abigail. You've caused quite a stir over here. I'm going to ask you a lot of questions, and I may need to put you on hold here and there while we discuss. I'll make sure to keep the music, though, as much as I can. Do you understand?" I took another deep breath.

"Yes and no. I understand well enough, at least. Go for it." 

"Alright then. I need to ask you for a vessel report. System functions, and the like. What do you have, what are you worried about, that sort of thing?"

"We have life support, general power, and less than a quarter of our usual thrusters. Oh, and communications, now. That's about it. We're pretty much dead in the water; between repairs I've just been trying to keep us from knocking into the asteroids around us. Our light drives are shot to hell, navigation is dead, I wouldn't even know where to begin on weapons systems. I think our shields are okay, but that wasn't my field. I just got communications back up after nine months of trying, and that's held together with duct tape and prayers, basically." I sighed, running through the rest of the ship in my head. "I think that's about it. We have food and water, and hygiene isn't a problem, it's just me, the cat, and the cremated remains of the rest of the crew. For nine months." I'd cremated them early on, knowing I needed to prevent them from decaying, and figuring that it would be easier to get urns off the ship than bodies. Each urn was labeled with name and position, and all officers had their dog tags fastened around it. I'd also grouped families together, in the hopes that they would appreciate it more. Why I thought ghosts needed to feel appreciated, I wasn't sure, but that was what they got. Hushed voices on the other end, then:

"And what can you tell me about the incident? What happened to you guys out there?" I took another breath, remembering the chaos when my entire life turned upside down. 

"We were supposed to be on a scouting mission, planning out a route for a diplomatic vessel heading to the Perseus system. I was in Engineering, helping Porter with routine maintenance. Grunt work, you know? I'm the most junior UTN on the ship. Er, well, I was. Now I guess I'm the most senior. All of a sudden, the ship rocks, like in the battle simulations at the Academy. The captain's voice comes on over the PA, telling us we've hit some sort of anomaly and everybody needs to brace themselves. I think our pilot tried to get us out, but by then the anomaly had already drawn us in. I couldn't tell you the nature of the anomaly, although I think there should be some reports in the science wing. All I know is that for three months, Hot Lips tried to tear herself apart." I closed my eyes, and Mother Terra's curious voice cut through my thoughts.

"Hot Lips?" I chuckled.

"That's what we call the ship. She's named for Margaret Houlihan, a character in an old 20th century satirical military production. That character was nicknamed Hot Lips. It's weird, right until you get used to it. Anyways, after about 3 months, I think the anomaly decided it had had enough of us, seeing as there was just me left, and spat us out. We've been drifting ever since. I don't even know if we're still on course, because my nav is shot." 

"You, and the cat." I managed a small grin.

"And the cat. He ran off when we heard you call. I think I startled him." I leaned against one of the working bulkheads. "You able to get a lock on us yet, Mother Terra?" More hushed voices.

"Hold on just a second Abigail." She put me back on hold, and I paced the bridge while the music played. I clung to each note like a life raft. I hadn't been forgotten. They were working on a solution to get me home. 

"Ensign Reese?" This was a different voice, a man. This was not Mother Terra. I snapped to attention.

"Yes, sir." A light chuckle. 

"This is Admiral Hammond. You've caused quite a stir over here. You say it's only been a year for you since losing contact with us?" I sighed.

"Yes, sir. My best guess is some sort of time dilation. Unless you're aware of the anomaly from more successful ships, I do have the coordinates of where we went down."

"No need, Ensign. Terra Command sent vessels to your position when we first lost contact with you. They didn't find anything." Dammit. The Admiral continued. "We've got your position though, and we have a ship nearby. The Makah will meet up with you in a few days to bring you home." I sighed in relief, slumping back against the bulkhead.

"Thank God." A low chuckle. 

"I'll put Mother Terra back on so the two of you can finish hashing out exact details. But you just hang tight, Ensign. Help is on the way." 

"Thank you, sir," I murmured.

"Of course. We'll see you in a few weeks. Hammond out." Mother Terra's voice came back on, hushed.

"I've never seen him take an interest in a ship like that before. But, then again, we haven't had a ship come back from the stars after so long before, either." I heard her take a breath before continuing. "This says the Houlihan had Class I thrusters and generation 3 light drives?" Finally, questions I could answer. 

"Yes, ma'am. Considering we were usually a scout vessel for diplomatic ships, we tended to get the first upgrades when available, so we were one of the first ones to get the gen 3's. The Class I thrusters are a standard for Toledo class vessels. That was something I'd wanted to ask, anyways. I didn't hear any Toledo classes at check-in. Did something happen?" Mother Terra sighed.

"All Toledo Class vessels have either been decommissioned or are among the stars. I believe the last one retired 20 years ago." I whistled.

"So I'm going to be seen as a relic. Wonderful." Mother Terra chuckled lightly.

"Pretty much. I do have a note from Command that they would like the ship returned, so the Makah is probably going to have to tow you home. They are going to have you stay on the Houlihan-"

"-so it stays manned, I understand. I don't know how Max will respond to strangers, anyway. He always took a little bit to get warmed up to new people, and that was before his home tried to kill him." There was a smile in her voice as she continued.

"Right, but they'll probably station one of their own with you, just so you aren't alone. I'll send a note to them to make sure that person is good with cats." I smiled softly.

"Good. And, um, could you try and get them not to outrank me? I'd rather be the one to check in with you nightly." 

"Of course, Abigail. I'll make a note of that." The clicking finished. "All entered. I have to hop off now, but you should be able to tune in to our usual frequencies, and I'll speak to you tomorrow, alright?"

"Alright. Thank you, Mother Terra. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Abigail." Mother Terra disappeared, and I fought the flash of panic that I was alone again. Taking her suggestion, I tuned in to Terran radio frequencies. Time to catch up on what I'd missed, or at least have background sounds while I cleaned up. If we were having company, we needed to at least look the part. 

3 days later, short-range scanners picked up another vessel. I gave them directions to board, and jogged down to the shuttle bay to let them in. Max was lounging on the controls, and I carefully removed him from the shuttle bay and control areas, shutting and sealing the door behind me. Max was not thrilled about this, and made his displeasure known.

"I know, Max, but I'm busy. We're finally going home, and I can't have you running off our guests. I'll let you back in once things are settled." With that, I went back to the controls, ignoring the yowling from the other side of the door. It took me a minute to get the shuttle bay opened, but once I did, a fancy looking shuttle set itself down in the remainder of the bay. The young man that stepped out looked at the ship and winced. 

"I can't tell what's original condition and what's wreckage," he murmured into his comms. I cleared my throat. 

"I heard that. She's a good ship, and it's not her fault the anomaly thought she'd make a good snack. You let her be." He chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. 

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry. I'm sure she was a grand old ship before she got snatched up." He came down the gangplank, but I was already circling his shuttle. "Um." 

"She's a beauty," I breathed, running a hand over the sleek metal of the hull. "Pretty designs, too." My new guest shrugged. 

"She was part of the Tribal Fleet. Each tribe that got a ship named after them decorated the shuttles with traditional art." I whistled. 

"Well, the craftsmanship and artistry are amazing." I sighed, turning back to him, and stuck a hand out. "Ensign Abigail Reese, Engineering apprentice, UTS Houlihan." He returned the handshake. 

"Private Toby Noel, Navigations, UTS Makah. I'm going to be staying with you while we tow you home. Speaking of, there good places to anchor tow lines? We'd put you in a tractor beam, but we're worried about damaging you." I shook my head. 

"Depending on what technological advancements have been made since I was back on Terra, tractor beam would be better. Her hitching spots are worn out. I checked this morning. Depending on how fast you try taking us, we could end up losing each other." Toby nodded, muttering what I had just told him into his comms, then nodded once he had a response.

"Alright then, tractor beam it is. One of our engineers has the old Toledo class specs up, though let me tell you, it was a son of a bitch to find those. Do you have any idea how much of a relic this thing is?" I glared at him. "Right, sorry, don't insult the Houlihan." He turned, calling to the ship at large. "I apologize for offending, Madam Hot Lips." I laughed. 

"Suck up." He shrugged. 

"Anyways, we think we know the right strength to get you home, but it'll take someone on the bridge monitoring hull integrity, which I figure either of us can-" A particularly loud yowl pierced the air. "What was that?" I sighed.

"Max, I told you; you have to wait until our guest is settled! I won't have you goin' after him before we're on our way! Now hush." I turned back to Toby. "That was Max. The cat. Like I told Mother Terra, he's slow to warm up to new people, but I was told you were assigned cuz you were good with cats." He nodded. 

"I've got three at home." The ship shuddered, and I went pale, bracing myself as I tried not to panic.

"Oh no, not again." What did I need to do? Find Max and get him secured, tie down the new shuttle- oh no. The Makah. Did they know how to deal with this? Two light brown arms gripped my shoulders as Toby shoved his face into mine.

"Abigail!" I looked at him. Damn those eyes were green. "It's just the tractor beam securing you. It's not the anomaly. You're alright." I swallowed, shifting my weight to test Houlihan's stability. "See?" The ship jolted, and Toby kept his grip on my arms. "Easy. We're just moving. You're okay, you're safe." I took a steadying breath, then nodded. He nodded back, letting me go. I looked down.

"Sorry." Toby shook his head.

"Don't be. You've been adrift for a year, alone for nine months. It makes sense that you'd have adverse emotional reactions to stimuli that remind you of the event that started this whole thing." I tilted my head. "I don't think it hurt my chances for being put here that my parents are psychologists."

"Ah." He shrugged. 

"Anyways, now that we're moving, care to give me the grand tour?" I cracked a tiny smile. 

"I'll try, but I'd watch your ankles. And your shoulders. Max is not going to be happy about any of this." Solemnly, Toby nodded. 

"I will beware of the cat," he said, so gravely it made me laugh. Which was probably the goal. I shook my head, leading him on a tour of what was left of the ship I'd called home. 

"UTS Houlihan, Toledo Class, Ensign Abigail Reese reporting. Still a relief to hear your voice, Mama. Met up with the Makah today, and their navigation says we're just passing the Cepheus system on the way home." I'd started calling Mother Terra Mama on the second day, with her permission, and it just felt better. She'd put me at the end of her rotation, instead of before the Enterprise classes like we used to be, so that we could spend more time chatting. I was curled in what used to be Captain Hunnicutt's chair, the communications on his desk finally working. Mother Terra sounded relieved.

"I'm glad to hear that, Abigail. And how are you doing with your new shipmate?" I shrugged.

"I'm not sure yet. He's... interesting, is one thing, but that's probably just because he comes from such a different time. Max hates his guts, despite Toby supposedly having cats at home. I've got him in Captain Hunnicutt's office with me so he won't try to maul the poor guy." Max was curled in the window, purring as we moved through the stars, content that it was just him and me, instead of the intruder that had just invaded his space. I sighed, petting him. "He has been helping me catch up, though. He brought a datapad over from the Makah, so he's loaned that to me for me to research on, and..." I shook my head. "It's insane, how much I've missed. The engineering feats alone...Half of the amenities on the Makah were things I might have only dreamt of in the past, and the Tribal Fleet is considered getting up there in age. Of course, Private Noel has been very stuck up about how much more superior she is to the Houlihan. That part I'm not thrilled about, but I'm trying to remind myself that to him, she's a relic, which means that the Makah is superior to her." I adjusted myself, getting more comfortable in the chair, and yawned. Mother Terra chuckled softly.

"If you need to get some sleep, I can hop off."  I shook my head. 

"No, don't. I'm tired, sure, but that's just because it's been a full couple of days. Talking to you beats any need I might have for sleep." I looked out the window, watching the stars speed by as the Makah brought us home at light speed. I hadn't realized Mother Terra was talking to me again until she repeated my name.

"Abigail?"

"Hmm? Oh. Sorry, Mama. What was it?" There was a smile in her voice as she repeated the question.

"I wanted to know if you knew the plan for what will happen when you get home. Though I still think you should sleep." I sighed, draping my arms over the back of the chair and resting my head on top of them.

"I don't want to be alone again. Toby's one thing, but... You're the first voice I heard since coming out of the anomaly. Um, right. The plan. If we've gone over it, I don't remember, but it's probably going to involve physical and psychological evals, military reports, and going over the Houlihan with a fine-toothed comb. Any reasonable request I make will probably be honored, which is good because I plan on keeping the cat. Not like he'll trust anyone else, anyway. Ummm, once that's all over they'll probably have to put together some sort of reintegration plan for me, though I doubt I'll be going up again anytime soon." I chuckled softly. "If the psych eval even lets me, I'll be surprised. Once they deem me fit to go back into society, I'll have to figure out what I'm going to do with my life in a time I won't recognize." I thought about it, then shrugged. "Did I miss anything?"

"No, you pretty much got it. Once you get back to Earth, though... I'd still like to check in on you, if that's alright?" I smiled. I was hoping for something along those lines. 

"Yes, please. I don't want to lose touch just because I'm not out in space." I yawned, then sighed. "Before you tell me to go to sleep again..." Mother Terra laughed lightly.

"I know, I know, you don't want me to leave you." She paused a moment as I tried not to drift off. "You know, it's the end of my shift. If you'd like, I could just stay with you until you fall asleep." I glanced towards the radio.

"You mean it?" Another soft laugh.

"I do. I just checked with my supervisor, she says it's totally fine. You're in the Captain's office though, right? Is there somewhere for you to get comfortable?" She sounded so concerned I couldn't help but chuckle.

"I'm curled up in his chair right now. Max is on the windowsill, purring his head off. This chair is one of the comfiest places on this ship, second only to my bed. Why do you think I keep drifting off?" She chuckled. 

"Alright. As long as you have somewhere you can sleep."

"Mmhmmm," I murmured, letting my eyes drift closed. "So that I can listen to you talk until I fall asleep, would you mind talking about some of the things I've missed?"

"Sure. Depends on what you want to know, though. I don't know anything about engineering." I chuckled. 

"Don't worry, I'll leave that for the engineers. No, I saw on Private Noel's datapad something that implied we were allies with the Niobians? When did we make up with them? We were right on the brink of war before the Houlihan went through the anomaly; hell, our sensors were trained specifically for their signatures." There was a tiny pause on her end, probably while she searched for the history of that particular war. 

"I'd forgotten how many years ago it's been. I..." she paused again. "Never mind. The Niobians actually sent a spy into Terra Command as part of that budding war. They managed to straighten out a series of misunderstandings caused by a singular mistranslation in the software that corresponded with culturally different connotations of said key phrase, and once they convinced Niobe command-and Terra- that nobody was actually threatening anybody, we started being nicer to each other." Her voice got brighter, like she was talking about something she was passionate about. "Their culture from a Terran point of view is actually quite fascinating. Did you know that one of the things that they hold the most sacred is..." I didn't catch most of her explanation; I had already fallen asleep listening to her ramble excitedly. 

It took us a couple more days, but we finally made it home.  We had quite the escort; just about every ship that was around our solar system helped guide us home. Watching our approach to the planet I wasn't sure if I'd see again, I had to hide my face from Private Noel so he wouldn't see my tears. He very wisely turned his back to me to look at some instrument or another on the dashboard. Max, true to form, wandered over, bared his teeth at Toby, and sat on my feet, ruining the moment of approach and making us both laugh. 

"Terra Command to Toledo Class Vessel," came the comms, "please identify." Private Noel nodded at me, and I pushed the respond button. 

"Toledo Class Vessel UTS Houlihan to Terra Command, making our way home." I thought I heard distant cheering over the comm, probably the rest of Terra Command. Whoever was speaking- a different job from Mother Terra- had a smile in their voice as they replied. 

"UTS Houlihan, you are clear to approach. Welcome home."

They changed the way vessels deboarded these days; they had to jerry-rig Toby and I off the Houlihan, Max clutched in my arms like a life raft. The Admiral that met us, flanked by a couple other high-ranking military members and an unidentified woman that looked like she had Niobian blood in her, looked at the cat, then at me, then nodded.

"Ensign Reese, good to meet you in person. I'm Admiral Hammond, we spoke over comms. You have no idea how glad we are that you're back. And this must be Max." He held a hand out for Max to sniff, pulling back when the cat promptly hissed at him. I offered a tired smile. 

"He doesn't like new people, Sir. He even hates Private Noel's guts, and he has cats at home." My fluffy guardian responded with another hiss, and the Admiral chuckled. 

"And I'm sure going through whatever the two of you went through didn't help, did it?" I shook my head. 

"No, sir." Three, I thought privately. The three of us. Me, Max, and the Houlihan. But I didn't argue, not with an Admiral. One of the other members of our welcoming party looked at the partial Niobian and grinned. 

"I know you wanted to meet her in person, Danyelle, but I don't think her cat will let you." I frowned tentatively. 

"Media already?" I knew that the media would be all over this, I did, but I wasn't ready for it, not yet. We'd just landed, for Terra's sake. They couldn't wait until after I'd settled in a little bit? The woman, Danyelle, shook her head. 

"No, Abigail, not the media." I knew that voice. That was the first voice I'd heard other than the Computer's in nearly a year. I almost dropped the cat.

"Mama?" She smiled, spreading her hands like she wanted to give me a hug, and I did drop the cat, running across the loading dock, ignoring all protocol, and letting her wrap me in a hug. 

"I know, Abigail," she murmured into my ear over the tears I was unable to hold back and Max's aggravated yowls. "I gotcha. You're safe now." Mother Terra loves and remembers all of her children, sure, but there with my savior soothing me in person instead of over the comms, I knew that it was truer than just planet-wide propaganda. I was home, and I was safe, and she'd made sure of that. 

I had a conversation earlier today about humanity's ability to over-ride fear and offer true sacrifice. I hope I did this story right.

---

Seconds remained.

Margaret didn't know who it was that was crying in the abandoned building, but she knew that someone must do something.

The only other figures around were standing at the door to the building, pretending to not notice the horrifying screams coming from within, and watching her in a way that indicated they didn't want to be obvious about doing so.

Fear tightened her chest. Her vision narrowed. Breathing became difficult.

- Somebody must act.

She breathed deeply and forced herself to think.

The door was about twenty metres away. A short sprint. A shoulder-charge into one of the guards. The can of pepper spray from her purse to blind the second.

So many failure points. Uneven ground. Unknown opponents. Whatever waited inside.

She was almost parallel to the door now. Her step faltered. Every instinct screamed at her to keep walking.

- No.

- This must be done.

She turned and sprinted. The guards were watching for trouble, but not for this. By the time they reacted, she was already upon them. Her shoulder rammed into the first. A strange click shot through her arm; she wasn't sure if that was her shoulder, the impact, or the guard's ribs.

He was forced into the wall behind him. His head snapped backwards into the unyielding concrete with a sickening thud.

The second guard barely had time to raise his hands before a cloud of pepper spray hit him in the face. Margaret drove her knee into his groin. He folded instantly.

Through the terror came the crying. This close to the building, she could tell it was a child.

- This must be stopped.

She grabbed the handle and wrenched the door open. Inside, a teenage boy sat bound to a chair, hysterical with fear.

Margaret ran towards him.

The knot wasn't complicated, but her shaking hands made it a struggle to undo the bindings.

In front of her another figure appeared out of the shadows.

For a brief moment, she considered that she could get back through the door. Safety.

She fought the thought, buying just enough time to loosen the knots enough so the child could wriggle free.

The figure raised a weapon.

Margaret pushed the child clear of the chair and threw herself between him and the gun as the muzzle flashed. Unbearable pain ripped through her, but she was glad to see that the boy was almost out the door.

Another shot.

Her final thought was not for herself.

She simply hoped the boy's story was worth it.

<<First | <<Previous

Join me on Patreon for early access! Read up to 30 chapters ahead! Free members get 6 advance chapters!

Ana's chin lifted up. It was a look that was vaguely reminiscent of something the princeling would’ve done. Which didn't put Liam in the best of moods.

Alistair made a sort of chuffing noise coupled with a low growl. Low enough that only Liam could really hear it, but it sounded like maybe the garzeth was worried about something.

"I've decided that I forgive you, Liam human," Ana said.

"You forgive me?" he asked, blinking in surprise.

Of all the things he expected her to say, that was close to the bottom of the list. Then again, she'd said many things that had surprised him simply because she seemed to look at the world from the top of her nose.

It was enough to make him think she wasn't lying. That she really was a High Princess of the Demon Realms, as ridiculous and impossible as that seemed.

"You've decided to forgive me," he said again, pointing at her and then pointing back to his own chest.

He thought he heard something off in the distance. A cry that sounded loud and long for a moment, and then it was over. He looked around the woods. Not exactly nervously, but he worried about things that didn't sound like anything he'd ever heard in the Felwood before. He’d heard plenty of scary things over those years.

They were far enough from the Scar that he probably didn't have to worry about demons out here. Though as he turned to Ana, he amended that he probably didn't have to worry about certain demons out here. There was definitely a demon who was making herself a problem right now, after all.

"Yes, I forgive you," she said with a sniff. "You abandoned me in these woods, but that's understandable. It is quite terrifying out here, isn't it?"

She looked around the woods, and then she wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing her hands up and down.

Liam stared at her for a long moment. He found himself lost in the image of her looking vulnerable, even if it was only for a moment. It showed Ana the person rather than Ana the insufferable princess. It was a little bit of the Ana he'd seen when they were together out in the Scar, or maybe in the Felwood.

But then the spell was over. She turned her attention back to him, and once more, she seemed more annoyed than anything.

"So where are we going?" she asked.

Liam regarded her for another long moment, and then he shook his head.

"Does that work often?" he asked, his voice quiet. He was genuinely curious.

She blinked, obviously surprised.

"Does what work?" she asked.

"You coming along and acting like somebody is going to do what you want them to do. Does that work often?"

"I'm not coming along and assuming somebody is going to do what I want them to do," she said, and she looked genuinely perplexed by what he was saying. "If I give an order, then somebody is naturally going to do it."

"Oh, are they?" Liam said.

"Of course. At least anybody from the demon lands who knows what's good for them will do what I tell them to do. I am a..."

"...High Princess of the Demon Realms. Yes, I know," Liam said, the thin hint of a smile coming to his face. "You might have mentioned that once. Or twice."

"Well, it's true," she said. She turned to Alistair. "Could you please do me a favor and bite his head off?"

They both stared at her. Alistair looked at Liam and then back to her, and his eyes blinked. There was a faint glow that came to them for a moment.

"You know that's not going to do any good," Liam said, heaving another sigh.

"I don't know that," she said. "Maybe it was a mistake when it didn’t work the first time around. Besides, he will follow my orders because he is a subject of the demon realms."

There was another quiet pause. Liam crossed his arms and stared at her. Alistair did the same thing before clearing his throat.

"Well, this is rather awkward," he started. “But..."

"You don't need to feel bad about anything, Alistair," Liam said, turning to the garzeth and favoring him with a smile.

"I don’t?”

"No, you don't," Liam said, turning his attention back to Ana. "I don't know who you might be out in the demon realms, and I don't know if you aren't paying attention, but we aren't exactly in the demon realms right now. So you can't order people around."

"I can order around whomever I please," she said.

"Then let me amend that a touch," Liam said. "You can try and order us around, but we're not going to listen. Right, Alistair?"

Liam turned back to the garzeth. He looked deeply uncomfortable. Like he was trying to shrink in on himself despite his considerable mass. Like he’d rather be anywhere but where he stood in that moment on all sixes.

"Yes, well. I suppose Liam does have a point," Alistair said. “And I am quite interested in learning more about him and exactly what is going on here. So no. I'm not going to try to harm him. I don't think I could even if I wanted to."

Another one of those silences spread between them. This time, it didn't last long before Ana exploded. Her eyes glowed bright enough that it lit up the trees all around them. Bright enough that Liam took a step back without thinking about what he was doing.

"Of course I know you're not going to harm him!” she said, throwing her hands up. "What do you think I am? I don't want to hurt him. I was just trying to prove a point."

"By asking a creature with a massive mouth full of sharp teeth to bite my head off?" Liam asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes," she said. "I wanted to show you how obedient all demons are to their royalty."

"Clearly you have a few things to learn about how the world works down on the ground,” Liam said.

"I do not," she said, crossing her arms and looking away.

Liam stared at her for another moment, and then he chuckled and shook his head.

"Are you ready to go, Alistair?"

"I am," the garzeth said after only a moment's hesitation.

And then they turned and started walking through the woods again. There was enough moonslight from up above for Liam to see by, and so they made pretty good progress. They were only a few layers of trees into the woods when he heard Ana calling out again.

"Wait! Where are you going? What are you doing? You were supposed to take me with you!”

"So how long do you think this is going to continue on?" Alistair asked.

"Her following us through the woods?" Liam asked. "I'm not sure. Why? Are you wanting to abandon her?"

"I don't know that it would be a good idea to abandon her in these woods," Alistair said. "There are Inquisitors out there searching for her, after all."

"That's true," Liam said. “But I think it's going to take them a little while to recover from what we did to them."

"I wouldn't be so certain about that," Alistair said. "You heard that noise?"

"I did," Liam said. “But I'm not sure what that was."

"That's ominous," Alistair said.

"It could just be something in this part of the forest," Liam said. Though he didn't believe that even for a moment. Still. He wanted to make Alistair feel better, for all that it was ridiculous that he was trying to make a monstrosity like the garzeth feel better about anything.

"This far from the Scar?" Alistair said. "We've been on a journey of a day, and it was a journey on horseback at that."

"You were able to make the trip following them,” Liam said.

"I was, but I'm not on two legs like you. I think that cry was something the Inquisitors were doing to try and get someone’s attention. I’m sure they’ll be able to have help out here sooner rather than later. We should assume so, at least.”

"Wonderful," Liam muttered, looking around. He half expected an Inquisitor to come out of the darkness around them at any moment. If there was only one of them then he liked his chances, but he didn’t think it would only be one of them.

"I told you it would be a better idea to just kill them and be done with it," Albert said.

"How did I know that was coming?" Liam said, looking down at the cat with a smile. He was moving along the forest floor quietly enough, though Liam could see a faint glow from those rune markings on his fur. Almost as though he was wearing some sort of wizard robes. Liam wondered how much those markings matched up with the markings on whatever robe he'd been wearing when he was stabbed in the back.

"What are you doing, Liam?" Ana called out in the darkness.

"She's going to keep following us," Alistair said.

"Oh, I fully expect her to,” Liam said.

“Wait. You almost sound like you want her to follow,” Alistair said.

"I mean, I don't want anything bad to happen to her, right? I figure her staying nearby means we can keep an eye on her, but I do want her to know she's not going to be able to push me around like I'm her subject in the demon lands."

"I'm not sure how much she can order people around in the demon lands anyway," Alistair said.

"What are you talking about? She's a high princess," Liam said.

"Well, she might be a high princess, but that doesn't mean she's able to order people around. There are gradations of royalty."

"That's even a thing in human realms,” Albert said. "Like that little puffed-up popinjay who was causing you so much trouble back at your cottage would step lightly around the baron simply because he's a little older, even if he technically outranks him, correct?

"I suppose," Liam said.

"And a high princess who is on the younger side and untested, who doesn't have many Ascensions on her, isn't the kind of person who could go ordering around somebody who has a little more experience, or who maybe has an influential position in the kingdom."

"I suppose that makes sense," Liam said. "Like how there are technically servants who might outrank the cook, but gods help them if they decide to try and cross her."

"I suppose it might be something like that," Albert said.

"The head butler certainly knows to watch his step around her. She made it clear when she made him eat nothing but broth with a little bit of broccoli tossed into it for a week after he tried to get her to do something or other she didn’t want to do. I wasn't privy to the specifics. I just heard the stories whispered about it afterwards."

“In that case, I suppose it would be precisely like that," Albert said.

"But I'm sure there are plenty of servants wherever she grew up that she was able to order around without any trouble,” Alistair said.

"Interesting," Liam said, wondering at this education about the intricacies of royalty in demon lands.

They continued on in silence after that for a little while. Liam looked up to make sure they were following the Hunter from time to time. He wasn't sure about the twists and turns of the road, but he had a vague idea of the path it took because he'd spent time looking at the maps in Baron Riven's library. The same as he'd spent plenty of time sitting and reading books about what the wider world was like.

Though honestly, he'd never had a desire beyond being able to go out into the woods and enjoy himself. Going out into the world seemed to mean being tied down by obligation, and he wasn't certain he wanted that for himself.

"Liam, what are you doing?" Ana said from the darkness behind them. "I can hear you talking with them."

He looked at Alistair and then to Albert. "Are all royalty this difficult?"

"I don't know that I have any direct experience with them," Alistair said. "Like I truly don't know if I have any experience with them. The memory isn't there."

"I'm sorry," Liam said, reaching out and patting one of his massive shoulders as they moved through the woods.

"It's okay," Alistair said. "I seem to be regaining some of my memories as I talk to you, so I will continue to talk to you in the hopes it reveals more.”

"In my experience, a lot of human nobles are like that, yes," Albert said.

"Then why do people follow them?" Liam asked.

"You'd best be careful about that," Albert said.

"Why?" Liam asked.

"Because that's the kind of dangerous thinking and talk that could get you hauled in front of the Inquisition for a bit of questioning if you aren't careful."

Liam looked down at the cat. The cat looked up at him. His eyes caught some bit of light and glowed in the darkness. His tail swished just so.

They both started laughing at the same time. Meanwhile, Alistair looked between the two of them like he wasn't sure what to make of them.

"There's something to be said about being born into an entrenched power structure," Albert said in a low voice that seemed almost like a growl. "There are still some places in the kingdom where you can get by on merit, but it's difficult. Even there, you have an uphill fight if you're starting from the life of a commoner. And if you're born too poor for even that much? Well, there's a reason why there are so many people who are left destitute, even in human lands."

"And I suppose you wanted to do something about that," Liam said with a snort. "The great conquering sorcerer who brought the demon world into conjunction with ours and accidentally smashed them together."

"I did," Albert said quietly, his voice so soft that Liam almost couldn't hear it. "I did, but clearly I've made a mess of it."

Liam looked down at the cat. He opened his mouth to say something, but then he stopped. He saw two glowing eyes suddenly appear in the dark woods in front of them between the trees. He sighed.

"Ana, I've already told you. If you're going to be ordering me around, then I don't want you near us."

"Well, isn't that interesting?" a silky smooth voice that was far deeper than Ana's could ever hope to be said.

The demon stepped forward. He had longer horns than Ana, and a muscular yet still lithe frame. He looked between Alistair, Liam, and Albert with a look that was somehow both a smile and a frown at the same time.

"I would expect anybody to understand the wisdom of doing whatever a High Princess of the Demon Realms says," the man said, putting his hand on the pommel of a sword at his side as more glowing eyes appeared in the woods behind him. "Now. Where is she? I know someone who is very interested in finding out exactly where the princess has disappeared to."

Join me on Patreon for early access! Read up to 30 chapters ahead! Free members get 6 advance chapters!

<<First | <<Previous

Start | Previous | Next

Chapter 138: Black Powder, Gems, and Thauma

“So, this is it, huh?” Viktor said as he took the silver, gem-studded gauntlet from his chief gremlin.

“Yes, Master,” Kazyk replied, baring his usual toothy grin, as if he were merely presenting a clever prank instead of an object capable of leveling half an entire dungeon floor.

Once Pimm returned to the dungeon with all the black powder he managed to collect, the gremlins had been set to work immediately and started producing explosives using Alycia’s method: each charge consisted of a large amount of powder compressed into a reinforced casing, paired with a powerstone—the bigger fragment of the pair created after a fire gem had been broken.

Since managing multiple individual triggerstone–powerstone pairs had proven to be a logistical nightmare, one riddled with opportunities for catastrophic mistakes, Viktor had decided to simplify things. All triggerstones were now gathered in one place, embedded in a single gauntlet. That way, when the time came, he would only need to spread the explosives wherever he wished, then detonate all of them at once with a single thought.

Of course, he was aware that gremlins were, by nature, reckless little disasters waiting to happen, and trusting them with anything that could blow up was hardly what most sensible people would describe as a good idea. So he had taken precautions to reduce the odds of accidental annihilation.

He had ordered Celeste to build an entirely new workshop, isolated from the first one and from basically everything else, dedicated solely and obsessively to the production of explosives. The gremlins assigned here worked on this and this alone. Their entire existence was now narrowed to mixing powder and sealing cases, following instructions to the letter. Kazyk had been explicitly forbidden from ever setting foot in this new workshop—Viktor had no intention of losing his chief gremlin to some stupid mishap—and instead oversaw the operation remotely through delegation, reports, and the occasional Celeste-assisted telepathically yelling in the face.

“Have you tested it?” Viktor asked as he studied the gauntlet more closely. It was the very same one Pimm had once worn to hurl fireballs at his goblins, now repurposed into something more subtle and, arguably, far more terrifying.

“Yes, Master.”

Which meant a large number of fire gems had already been destroyed in the name of science. Two gold per piece, if he remembered correctly.

“So,” came a voice, “that’s what you’ll be using to destroy that portal, right, Master?”

Viktor already knew who it was before he even heard the first word. After all, the Core Room had just bloomed with sudden light before settling down into a more tolerable glow. It served as a herald that announced her presence more clearly than any footsteps ever could. He turned, unsurprised, to find exactly who he had expected: a woman carved from radiance, hair a spill of molten gold.

“Yes.” He glanced aside. “Kazyk, this is Galatea. Our dungeon’s newest Guardian.”

The gremlin’s grin widened, then he bowed with exaggerated flair.

“My lady, I’ve heard of your arrival, but I did not know you would be such a beauty.”

So even gremlins know how to flatter women, huh?

Galatea laughed softly. “And you must be the one Khenemhotep calls the Master Builder. He has nothing but praise for your intellect.”

Alright, enough of this whole buttering-each-other-up.

Viktor cleared his throat. “You’re dismissed,” he told Kazyk. “Have the finished explosives brought to the storage room. I’ll call for them when the time comes.”

The storage room in question was, naturally, far away from both workshops and all other facilities. When dealing with dangerous items, there was no such thing as being too careful.

“Yes, Master,” the gremlin boss replied at once.

He bowed again—first to Viktor, then to Celeste, and finally, with particular enthusiasm, to Galatea—before scurrying out of the Core Room.

Viktor waited until the gremlin was gone before raising his hand and conjuring a gust of wind. The gauntlet slipped free, drifted across the chamber, and settled neatly atop a pile of items stacked in one corner. Those were the Reliquaries he hadn’t found a practical use for yet, so for now they sat there quietly, gathering dust in the Core Room.

What he had just cast was not a Thauma. Instead, he was simply drawing on the power of the wind gem bound to his wrist. In fact, he now carried four such stones, one on each wrist and ankle, and he was going to use them to fly. The two Thauma he had crafted were merely contingencies, backup measures in case the gems were lost, damaged, or forcibly removed.

Viktor turned back to his Guardian, eyeing her luminous form.

“You really like walking around in that shape, don’t you?”

“Well, yes. The suit of armor is far too cumbersome to move around in. There’s no reason to use it when I’m not in combat.”

Was that really the only reason? Or did she simply prefer to look like this in front of others, being light and warmth and curves, instead of appearing as a skull in a jar?

She had once said that she could make this projection of hers turn invisible. But the truth was, it worked the other way around. Her projection was incorporeal and thus invisible by default, meaning what he was seeing right now existed solely because she chose to manifest it. When she “turned invisible,” she was merely deactivating the glamor and returning to her natural, unseen state.

She had also claimed that this was what she looked like when she was alive. But a human’s appearance changed drastically over the years, so why had she chosen this particular snapshot of herself? What reason could there be, if not that this was when she had been most beautiful? Also, since the image was entirely of her own making, it was very possible she had taken the opportunity to make a few “refinements” to it.

But... well, whatever.

Vanity was something all humans, living or dead, were subject to in one way or another. As long as it didn’t interfere with her duties as a Guardian, he couldn’t care less.

“Just to be sure,” Viktor asked, “that projection of yours can pass through the portal, right?”

“Yes,” Galatea replied without hesitation. “Even though I haven’t done it with that particular portal, as long as it functions like any other form of teleportation, my projection should be able to pass through without any issue.”

If it were possible, Viktor would prefer to verify that claim in practice rather than in theory. Unfortunately, having her attempt to cross the portal before the operation began would almost certainly trigger at least one alarm and—given that he had no idea how many layers of barriers they had in place—possibly several more. Thus, experimentation was not an option. He had no choice but to take Galatea at her word and hope that, when the time came, the portal would behave exactly as expected.

On the other hand, assuming her projection could reached the other side, it would provide a significant advantage to his plan. After all, even if the projection ended up stranded on the other side once the portal was destroyed, it would hardly matter. Galatea could simply dispel it and create a new one back in the dungeon, barely inconvenienced in the slightest.

That said, the projection was not without drawbacks. Being incorporeal meant it couldn’t physically interact with anything. It could neither wear the gauntlet nor carry the explosives. Thus, beyond reconnaissance, there was very little it could actually do. But that was fine. Such limitations had already been accounted for.

“When will we carry out the operation, Master?” Galatea asked.

“In a week or two, I suppose. We have to wait until the portal is complete.”

The entire point, after all, was to bring the thing down after Iskora had poured a significant amount of time, money, and manpower into its construction, so sabotaging it too early would rob the act of much of its impact. On top of that, an important part of the plan required going through the portal itself, which was obviously impossible until it was fully operational.

Besides, he hadn’t reached Level 9 yet, which was reason enough to avoid rushing into anything particularly dangerous.

For the past three weeks, Celeste had sent him every single point she earned, a steady stream of progress that allowed him to advance at a pace far faster than he could have managed on his own. Yet, even with that advantage, it was still not enough to push him over the threshold. So a little more time would be welcome. After all, if he was going to march into battle, it only made sense to do so in the best possible condition.

In the meantime, he would focus on consolidating his gains: earning additional Sigils and pushing his experimentation with the Thauma further. He needed to test multiple variations and combinations to determine which configuration would be most useful for the upcoming mission.

And, speaking of Sigils, he had already accumulated a respectable haul, courtesy of Khenemhotep.

Of course, death magic was beyond his reach, as he hadn’t unlocked the corresponding mastery. But earth magic was another story. There were a lot of spells to study, and he had done exactly that.

The first thing he had chosen to analyze was the earthen spears, the undead priest’s signature attack. The conjuration of a single projectile translated, in Sigil terms, to one Sigil of Controlling and four Sigils of Fortifying. The controlling aspect was trivial; the spear was simply launched straight ahead. The real work lay in the compression, forcing loose sand into something dense enough to punch through the finest armor.

Replicating the effect as a Thauma would cost him five Focus for each projectile, which meant a single volley would drain his entire reserve in an instant. By comparison, Khenemhotep could fire them barrage after barrage, and he could do so even in environments where no sand was present at all.

Next came the quicksand spell. In essence, Khenemhotep had transformed solid ground under his enemies’ feet into loose sand and let gravity do the rest. Studying it earned Viktor two Sigils of Transmuting. They were three-cost Sigils, and thus, very useful. With these, he could create Thauma capable of converting water into other liquids or air into different gases, opening up all sorts of possibilities.

Then there was pass wall, which yielded two Sigils of Bestowing, two Sigils of Phasing, and two Sigils of Maintaining. The Sigils of Bestowing and Maintaining were largely functional necessities, allowing the effect to be applied to other people and sustained for a limited duration, while the key component was the Sigil of Phasing. Apparently, the affected individual was temporarily synchronized with the elemental nature of earth itself, allowing them to occupy the same physical space as solid earth without interacting with it at all, bypassing any structural resistance as though it simply didn’t exist. With the same principle, Viktor would be able to craft Thauma that allowed him to pass unharmed through fire or water. Air was theoretically possible as well, though it was, of course, completely pointless for obvious reasons.

The next spell was a more mundane one: raise wall. Two Sigils of Controlling, two Sigils of Amplifying, two Sigils of Fortifying. The process involved pulling earth up from the ground, making more of it from what was already there, then condensing the whole mass into a solid barrier. There was no need for Sigils of Maintaining, since a properly formed structure of earth was perfectly capable of persisting on its own. Once raised, the wall would remain exactly where it was until it was physically destroyed.

And finally, the phoenix of sand. Five Sigils of Controlling, two Sigils of Fortifying, three Sigils of Animating, four Sigils of Maintaining, and that was not even the spell’s strongest incarnation. In its full form, it exceeded what Viktor could currently analyze, so he had to ask Khenemhotep to have Lahmia reduce it to a twenty-cost version, the absolute maximum he could handle with Earth Mastery at Tier III.

And with that final analysis complete, most of his Insight Tokens were gone, spent and transformed into Sigils, converted from raw potential into concrete tools at his disposal.

Path of the Thaumaturgist – LV8

Arcane Point: 0/477

Insight Tokens: 2

Focus: 35/35

Mastery of Fire I (proficiency: 0%)

Mastery of Water I (proficiency: 0%)

Mastery of Earth III (proficiency: 50%)

Mastery of Air I (proficiency: 0%)

Mastery of Dark I (proficiency: 0%)

Supreme Thauma:

-Rekindled Ember

Sigils:

- Sigil of Animating x3

- Sigil of Transmuting x2

- Sigil of Phasing x2

- Sigil of Making x4

- Sigil of Unmaking x2

- Sigil of Bestowing x3

- Sigil of Amplifying x2

- Sigil of Controlling x19

- Sigil of Maintaining x7

- Sigil of Fortifying x11

A little more, Viktor thought. Just a few more weeks, then he was going to unleash havoc.

The caravan came to an abrupt halt at last after a day of exhausting travel. The campfire crackled, and from within the noble carriage, shouts could be heard.

"I demanded the biggest, baddest, most noble and hardened warriors in the realm, and THIS is what I get? A couple of… ugh! I can't even begin to express my—" 

She shouted at her guard captain, a noble knight born of high  blood, clad in glinting silvery armour. Out of nothingness, thin air no less, from an indented cushion next to her, on the opposite side, a voice came.

"Pardon me, my lady. But three, three guards, not a couple." 

She did not look away from the guard captain. In her mind, it was him who replied.

"I KNOW what a 'couple' means, Sir!" 

The guard's eyes shot wide open, and his gaze panned past her, to the other side.

"Uhm, my lady? It wasn't—" 

He protested, but she just huffed.

"Leave me!"

She demanded. The guard captain tried to protest: 

"But my lady, I cannot leave you alo—" 

But she cut him off mid-sentence by slamming the door to the carriage shut. As she leaned back, a sigh escaped her lips.

"Ugh, I can't believe this incompetence. Doesn't he know that this journey is of utmost importance?"

She complained to herself.

"Right?" 

The Nothingness across from her replied.

"The insolence is unbelievable."

"Indeed." She replied and then paused. 

It hit her at last. It was not the guard captain replying to her earlier; it was something else. She sprang up, swung the door open and leapt out of the carriage in a leap of faith accompanied by a shrill of pure terror. Midfall, she found herself grasped from behind by the back of her dress and in the cold embrace of someone else.

"My my! You smell DELICIOUS." The voice whispered quietly into her ear. 

She felt a breath against her neck, but it was not warm. From behind she felt whatever was holding her dress pull hard, ripping her out of the arms of whoever dared lay their hands on her. Another shrill echoed through the camp. The guard captain rushed to his lady's carriage to find her sitting on the steps, terror painted across her face, a vampire standing in front of her with a sly smirk on his face, and nothing in the carriage behind her.

"Stand down." 

The captain ordered, hand firmly gripping the handle of his sword. The vampire turned to glance at him, his blonde hair swaying and glistening in the silvery moon's light.

"Or what? Gonna stake me? I like it RAW, still dripping blood. The steak that is" 

The vampire mocked with a sly grin, turning fabulously toward the guard.

"She's much too skinny; her blood is probably as rotten as her entire family's is. Nobles, contrary to popular belief, taste AWFUL." 

From within the carriage, the Nothingness spoke again. His voice was soft, collected, and slightly disinterested.

"He might have a point, though I do advise against 'staking' him; he might enjoy that too much. Anyways, uhm, miss? If you don't mind, I'd like to go grab some food." 

The nothingness requested, softly tapping the noblewoman sitting on the steps of the carriage, who was utterly perplexed.

"How… dare you!? Rotten? I demand retribution! Captain, behead the foul beast for his harsh words. I find him to be unworthy of my company." 

She demanded, ignoring the nothingness behind her that was, by now, impatiently and repeatedly tapping her shoulder. Its soft voice almost resembled demanding mewls.

"Please? Please let me pass. I beg of you, please let me out of here. I really need to pee. I'm hungry and starving! I spent the entire day in this carriage; my legs are almost numb from sitting." 

By the campfire, in the flickering light of the flame, sat a massive, bipedal beast straight out of nightmares. His fangs glistened in the moonlight. His claws tore the hunk of meat before him to shreds. His nostrils flared as he sniffed whether the steak was cooked or not. Unlike the vampire, he did not like it raw. He reached over the red-hot skillet and turned the steak over. The meat sizzled and the vampire screamed as if he got staked for real.

"NOOOOO! YOU RUINED IT! MY PRECIOUS!" 

In a blink of an eye, the vampire stood behind the werewolf.

"Bloody awful! It's well done now. You foul creature, you ruined a perfect steak I hunted for us."

"Your fault for being distracted." 

The werewolf growled rather than spoke.

"You, you slobbering, flea-ridden disgrace of a bloodline! I've seen better breeding in a gutter rat." 

The vampire unloaded the richness of his dictionary at the beast that simply flicked his ears, ignoring the insults as he reached over the raging flame, stuck a claw through the steak and lifted it off the pan. His nostrils flared as he inhaled the scent of a well-done steak. His fangs parted as he leaned in to take a chomp. Saliva dribbled off the corner of his mouth. Hungry and vicious, he was eager to take a bite, but just then, a shrill sound echoed through the camp, making him wince in discomfort. It was ear-piercing: 

"AAAAA! WHY IS EVERYBODY IGNORING ME!?" 

The noblewoman shouted. A nervous whisper came from behind her.

"My lady? If I may! I-I beg your pardon, but if anything, you're the one ignoring me!? Please, I really REALLY need you to get off those steps."

"Silence, figment of my imagination! How DARE you!?" 

She glanced over her shoulder at nothingness behind her. 

"Do not demand anything of me! I do as 'I' please." 

The voice behind her whimpered: 

"Awh, that's…that's just rude. Nobody's ever called me such an insult before." 

She ignored it and then finally rose, storming impatiently toward the campfire. 

At the campfire, the lady stopped abruptly. She looked down at the salivating werewolf who was frozen with his jaw agape, eager to take a bite. She glanced down at the juicy steak hanging off his claws. In what seemed like an instant, she was holding the steak on a fork, examining it to ensure it had not been tainted by the beast's drool before bringing it down and taking a bite.

  A loud gulp came from the werewolf as his wide, round eyes blinked in confusion. A low whimper followed a moment later. The werewolf felt a cold hand on the nape of his neck, gently stroking his rough fur.

"Oh? Don't sulk, pup; it's unbecoming. Here, let me stroke that wounded little ego of yours. There, there. Now you know precisely how 'I' felt, and I must say, watching you suffer for it is doing wonders for my evening. Thank you." 

The vampire addressed the woman who heeded him no attention as she continued to devour the steak.

CHAPTER TWO

All was quiet that night, only rhythmic breaths and soft whimpers.

"She called me a figment of her imagination. Can you imagine that?" 

The nothingness sitting on a tree stump spoke.

"She took my steak." The werewolf murmured.

"My dear companions. Please stop! Watching you wallow is easily the finest form of entertainment; my immortal heart can only take so much joy!"

The werewolf's fur rose as a branch snapped in the forest. His nostrils flared as he rose to his full height, then hunched forth, sniffing the air.

"I smell—" he began but was abruptly interrupted.

"A meal!" 

The vampire finished his words and disappeared into the darkness of the forest.

  The next morning the company set out again. The man who was a furious beast the night before now looked ordinary, if only vaguely resembling a dishevelled, unwashed dog with his unkept hair and untrimmed beard. He trotted along the carriage on his horse. Atop the carriage a coffin lay; within it the vampire slept. The unseen one remained unseen. He could be anywhere. The wolf noticed the curtain pulled aside and her curious gaze examining him. It wandered up and down. He was anything but interesting.

"My lady?" 

A voice came from the other side of the carriage. She shifted there.

"There's a spot just up ahead that'd serve well to refill waterskins and let the horses drink." The guard captain reported.

"Well enough, let us rest for a while." 

She kicked at the nothingness in front of her without breaking stride. A pained shriek confirmed she'd found her mark.

"Heard that? Stretch a bit so you don't complain about your legs falling numb from sitting so much, you pansy."

  Under a tree, in the shade, the dishevelled man lay. The lady approached him without a single regard for her own safety. As she walked closer, the wind blew, knocking an acorn off the shelf. A soft 'thwonk' came from her as the acorn impacted her head square on.

"Ouch!" She complained.

"Serves you right, wandering about without your guards," the man replied.

"Hmph! I'll have you know, I am guarded! My… apparent imagination seems to always be nearby! And you are here too." 

The man lazily opened one eye, squinting at her.

"You do know how werewolves work, right? During the day I'm just a dude, sleeping under a tree usually. Good thing you've got a few knights to keep you safe though." She glanced around.

"You 'will' protect me if I am in danger, though, right?"

"Depends. If it's from an angry squirrel? Not. I'm a wolf, not a cat," he yawned and turned over onto his side.

"Hmph," she huffed. 

He heard a soft shuffle as she cleared away some pebbles under the tree and then sat down beside him.

"The steak last night was lovely, by the way." She commented in a desperate attempt to gain even a grain of his attention.

"The one you stole? I'm sure it was. It smelt incredible; too bad I never got to savour it."

"Yeah, well. Ahem. You served me well, the dinner! You served me a well-made dinner, so for that I'll reward you accordingly, yes." 

She hesitated, unsure what exactly a werewolf might demand or expect.

"How about a… house?" 

The man let out a soft chuckle.

"A doghouse? How sweet of you. Why don't you offer me a collar too?" 

He suddenly sat up and half-turned toward her.

"Keep the house and collar. Rather, tell me the truth: why ARE we here?"

"Well, if you'll notice, the horses are drinking, and the men are refilling their water supplies." A voice came from Nothingness next to them.

"HUSH!" 

The lady snapped at the source of voice, at the Nothing that seemingly stood next to her.

"My silly imagination has no manners. But it speaks the truth. We are here to rest and replenish the water supplies."

The werewolf squinted at her, his eyes morphing, their colours changing into two beastly ambers.

"No, I saw what I saw last night or, rather, didn't. When I'm in my beast form, nothing, not even a vampire, is too fast for me. Yet your movement was. You were there and suddenly weren't, and then suddenly you were holding the stake. It's as if you went back in time to pluck it off the skillet before I could."

Her eyes widened. She looked away hastily.

"That was just a figment of 'your' imagination."

"Was it?"

He was not asking. He leaned closer, his nostrils flaring, and for a moment she smelt like fear instead of perfume.

"Three of the finest warriors in the land, two hundred kilometres, for a wedding? At a beach house? Hah." A short laugh followed.

"I don't buy fairy tales, my lady. Not after what you showed me."

She hesitated, like a thief caught red-handed. She shuffled uncomfortably, then planted her palms firmly on the ground beneath and pushed herself up.

"I-I best be going. We'll be departing momentarily."

As she began to stand up, his hand reached up to her and gently, but firmly, gripped her wrist and pulled her back down. She froze, her wrist still held hostage by his firm, yet gentle grasp. She looked at him properly for once. Her gaze wandered over his dishevelled face and his stern gaze. His eyes were still beastly and amber in colour; they were watching her every move, every minuscule twitch. Her perfect, noble, untouchable, high-born lady mask slipped for a blink.

  For the briefest of moments, she was no ordinary high-born; she was something else. A girl that was determined to achieve something impossible. She caught her breath, and the mask returned.

"Let go of me," she demanded, but her voice did not yet carry the authority she had been showing before.

"Not until you tell me the truth," the man replied. 

His grip did not loosen, nor did it tighten.

"I've been watching you since we set out, and I'm growing tired of trying to pluck out the truth in between your masquerade."

She gasped, recoiling ever so slightly, but then, realising her act had been discovered, she let out a soft sigh:

"Very well, you've caught me. My name is Natasha, I am a—" she paused.

"A witch. My father, wizard of the court, was murdered by the king, who stole his powers and turned himself into a dragon. Greedy bastard."

The man smiled at last and released his grip, but his beastly eyes remained glued to hers.

"Revenge?" he queried.

"Do you wish us to slay the king?" 

She shook her head.

"No. The golden dragon in which he turned is an immortal god-like creature that we, mortals, stand no chance against."

"Ehm, pardon me, my lady, but I beg to differ. We quite literally have an immortal bastard, I mean vampire, in this company. Ehm, so your statement isn't entirely accurate," the nothingness protested, but she ignored him.

"Then why are we here?" The werewolf queried again.

"To escort me to a beach house. What? Do you think I lied about 'everything'? A good lie must have some truth in it to be believable." She winked.

"I see. But why?" the man asked again.

"It's a spell." She said it like that settled the matter.

He waited. She sat silently. He just kept waiting. There was no rush; he could spend the entire day waiting. In fact, he would prefer that.

"Fine… It’s a spell of time rewind. I get only one chance at it, so I can’t allow ‘anything’ to interrupt it.”

“Mhmm, and why this trip?”

“The spell’s effect is correlational to the distance travelled since the beginning of the spell. It’s a ritual, rather, one that requires me to travel a distance before completing it. For instance, if I activate it in one room and walk to another, and the time will unwind a few minutes at best. Pretty worthless and requires a significant time investment,” Natasha continued.

“I see, so you’re charging it?” She thought for a moment. “Well—more like winding a spring or pulling back a rubber band.”

“How far back does a week on the road buy you?”

"Far enough. When I learned of my father’s fate, it had been a week since his passing. And by the time I found the right spell, another three had passed. I needed a very, and I mean very, long road trip.” She spread her hands out and looked around.

“So, here we are.” 

The man tilted his head to the side like a puppy, listening.

"I see," he replied at last. 

His expression shifted back to neutral.

"Time travel and witches, neat," he replied in a half-mumble and flopped back down.

"What? That's it?" Natasha protested.

"You're not going to rally everyone to hurry along? Or tell me how amazing I am?"

The werewolf let out a slow yawn:

"Well. We'll get there. As for amazing? Debatable. One such amazing 'thing' turned me into what I am, so I hardly have much desire to marvel at your kind. Wake me when they are ready to head out."

From the coffin atop the carriage, a sassy voice mumbled:

“Oh joy! We are the heroes who save the kingdom. How delightful! Exactly what I wanted to do with my life: be the force that winds back the springs of time.”

CHAPTER THREE

  The beach house was not at all what they expected. It was indeed a house of sorts. Roaming around it were all manners of witches. A few were sunbathing on the roof of the small shack-looking cabin. Some were in the water splashing around. Some roamed the beach, impatiently awaiting the arrival of the one.

"Let me guess, it's not, in fact, a wedding we're attending." The Nothingness spoke in his usual sassy, observational manner.

"No, I shouldn't think so. It looks more like a witches' sabbath than a wedding to me," the werewolf replied, squinting at the shack.

"I don't like witches," commented the Nothingness.

"They call me a figment of their imagination. Seriously, is it common for them to have an alter ego that talks to them or something?"

The werewolf, in his man-form, looked to his left at absolutely nothing and then shrugged.

  As the sun began to set, the coffin began to stir. The time was running short, and it was that night that the ritual had to be completed. Witches gathered at that specific hut to assist in the completion of the spell so powerful that it could topple the very gods of this world.

  The party neared the hut. The witches in the water made their way out. Two of the three witches on the roof made their way down; the third one remained there for a while longer, for only bones were left of her. The sun was perhaps a little too hot for her. The lid of the coffin cracked open and then flew off. The vampire sat up and stretched.

"Ah! Sunset, my beloved."

As he climbed out of the coffin and brushed off the dirt from his coat, he glanced at the nearing beach hut and recoiled.

"Oh my! A witch sabbath? How quaint! Colour me surprised, but please, no frog turning and no hexes; they take weeks to wash off."

  The carriage came to a halt just outside the door. More and more witches entered the hut, leaving only a couple outside. Natasha stepped toward the door, two guards flanking her on either side. Silent as the night, following her. An older hag met her by the door:

"So, you came, deary. Excellent. I see you've got quite a mighty escort. Good, but you all will have to wait out here."

  Her cold gaze flicked between the company. A werewolf hunched over behind the carriage, trying to stay out of sight of witches. A nothingness that stood behind the guards, trying to sneak in unspotted. And then the vampire who proudly stood atop the carriage, looking down at everything and everyone like he owned this world.

"Aww, man. Well, it was worth a try," the nothingness said, turning and walking away, sulking. Only distancing steps can be seen in the sand.

"Fine by me; less witch stench to deal with," the werewolf groaned. 

He then flopped over and cozied himself up on the sand. A relief sigh came from him a moment later as he got comfy.

"Oh really? Thank the gods! I was beginning to dread having to meet so many witches and having to convince them that I would, in fact, not make a pretty frog or a cat. Do call me if anything catches fire though; I know your kind isn't too fond of flames."

  Natasha stepped past the threshold, and just for a moment, the vampire caught a glimpse of the interior. It was an enormous space with dozens of witches forming circles around the magical circles on the ground. The door shut behind her with a soft and final click, and silence befell the world.

  There was no chatter and no witches. Just sand and the gentle waves. Brief moments of peaceful silence passed in a blink, and a new sound rose over the gentle waves. Soft, rhythmic, and growing louder. Wings. Distant, but nearing swiftly.

"Arise, my comrades; we've got company, and it's ugly," the vampire's voice cut through the air like a knife.

"I know," growled the werewolf in response.

"I've known for a long time; I just chose to rest while I could enjoy the peace and not listen to your voice."

A massive silhouette split the night sky, growing by the second until it eclipsed the moon entirely. Its wings gave one final, thunderous beat before it dropped. Sand and shattered shell exploded outward like shrapnel, tearing bark from the tree line and assaulting the little shack's walls. Then, with a thunderous groan, like a landslide, a body the size of a town slammed into the beach. The dragon king was upon them.

"My good friends, I am deeply saddened to inform you, but I don't believe we stand a chance," the vampire proclaimed while brushing the sand off his coat.

"What gave you that idea? The fact that his single leg is the size of a mill? Or were they the fangs, the height of me?" 

The werewolf groaned, keeping himself low to the ground, on all fours, like a beast ready to pounce.

"Say, how long do we need to distract it before the ritual is complete? I wish to know whether I need to take my coat off or not." 

The vampire asked the one guard of Natasha's who remained outside.

"Two minutes," the guard replied, indifferent, while unsheathing his blade.

"Only two? Marvellous! That would barely be enough time to properly ruin my favourite coat." 

The vampire complained, shrugging his coat off before tossing it at the guard.

"There. Sacrificed for the king and the country... I mean myself, of course, not the coat. Do remember this moment fondly and tell your grandkids how amazing I was."

The guard was shocked for a moment as the lights were turned out for him. The coat landed squarely on his head, and by the time he managed to remove it, he wished he had not. The scene before him was way above his pay grade.

  The vampire was the first to move; he disappeared from the roof of the carriage and, in a blink of an eye, darted up the dragon’s foreleg. Swift as the wind, he now balanced himself carefully on the ridge of the snout like an acrobat balancing on a rope. He sneered and raised one leg, bringing it down in an annoyed manner, like a disgusted noble stomping on a bug that annoyed him.

“Die, you filthy creature!”

  The dragon reared its head back and took a deep breath before unleashing a thunderous roar that flattened bushes and unleafed the trees in the close vicinity. Following the roar was a sudden jerk of its head to throw the vampire off its snout, and then a flaming sigh. The flames engulfed the creature in an instant; in the midst of the amber hellish flame, a black silhouette could be seen tumbling through the air, but for a moment, the werewolf thought he had seen a proud grin. The smoke trail of the blackened shape landed in the shallow waters with a loud splash.

  "I'm fine! Thanks for asking," the vampire called out to no one in particular.

  The werewolf hit the beast's hind leg low, his mighty jaws that could tear a lamb’s head off locked tightly around a tendon the width of a ship's mast. He dug his claws into the sand until the sand beneath turned dark and wet. The dragon's roar changed into what more resembled a pained yelp, and its leg moved. The dragon raised his leg, with the werewolf dangling on his Achilles tendon like an angry chihuahua. Without so much as granting him a gaze, he jerked his foot. The werewolf did not let go in time, and the kick sent him tumbling like a tumbleweed down the beach for two dozen metres, no less. As the werewolf leapt back up and howled, one of his arms hung wrong and limp. The dragon took a deep breath.

  Somewhere behind the dragon's whip-thin tail, the nothingness worked without being seen, which is a difficult thing to manage gracefully when your opponent is swinging several tones of muscle and bone in wide, unpredictable arcs. Twice the tail had passed through the space that nothingness occupied half a second before. The third time he was less lucky. Something invisible caught the dragon’s tail mid-swing and yanked, hard enough to throw the dragon's rear sideways into the sand. The pained yelp that followed was indicative enough that the feat cost Nothingness dearly.

"I’m coming to help whoever's currently attached to that tail. Just, erm, hang on a little longer." 

The vampire called out, hauling himself, dripping, from the shallows as the dragon impatiently swung his tail side to side, trying to shake off the Nothingness that was attached to it.

"Believe me, I am trying!" The reply came that was clearly struggling for air.

  The one guard left standing tossed the coat to the side, and before he himself even realised it, he was already running, sword drawn, toward several tons of a god, because someone had to buy the last of those two minutes, and there was no one else left between the shack and the dragon.

  Whether any of it counted as fighting or more as four people, if they could be referred to as such, refusing to die was… at this point, hard to say. The chaos persisted for the briefest of moments, then, with a single flap of his wings, the shack and the company were gone. A gust of wind came from the other direction. It blew the werewolf off his feet and sent him tumbling through the air like a leaf, unlike the massive, hulking dragon next to him. The vampire followed in the cherished company of the carriage and two horses. Nothing was somewhere, probably. Where the shed had stood, now there was nothing. 

  The mighty wind was not wind at all, not in a traditional sense. It was time itself unravelling. It took everything with it: the company, the dragon, and the world itself. It scattered them and flung each into a different corner of the land like leaves scattered by a storm. The ritual was complete, and the tide of time had turned, carrying them all back. 

  Natasha pushed open the tavern door, shaking rain from her cloak. The place was half-empty, a few locals enjoying their drinks, and a dying flame crackling in the corner of the room, keeping the stew warm. She scanned the room and found him in an instant. Alone in the corner: dishevelled hair, unkept beard, disinterested posture and gaze fixated on his cup. Nothing else amused him. The sound of her boots echoed through the tavern as she crossed the room toward him without so much as offering a greeting to the keeper. She planted her hands on the table, and it was then that he raised his disinterested gaze slowly to meet hers.

"Can I help you? Plenty of empty seats around; you don't need to take this one." She smiled.

"Hmmm, I'm looking for someone. A big bad wolf." 

For just a moment, his eyes flickered beastly amber, and his expression turned to one of curiosity.

"Oh?"

First / Previous / Royal Road / Patreon (Read 30 Chapters Ahead)

XXX

When Chase awoke the next morning, he couldn’t help but notice two things. The first was that he’d apparently been so tired the night before that he hadn’t bothered to even strip down to his underwear before falling into bed, which meant his clothes reeked.

The second was that Victoria wasn’t in the room with them.

His brow furrowed at that particular realization. It was enough to snap him out of the stupor the sheer rankness of his clothes had trapped him in for a few seconds.

“Hey, Carmine,” he called out.

“Urgh…” Carmine grumbled as she rolled over onto her side. “Why did you just wake me up…? You really couldn’t give me fifteen more minutes?”

“Victoria is missing.”

“So? She’s probably in the bathroom or something. Did you even bother to check that before waking me up?”

“No.”

Carmine let out another annoyed grumble. Chase took the implicit cue she was giving him and threw his sheets off, then marched over to the bathroom, knocked on the door, and waited. After a few seconds, there was no response, and so he threw the door open. Sure enough, it was completely empty.

“Yeah, she’s not here,” he surmised. “Get up. We need to look for her.”

“Do we really?” Carmine asked, again rolling over onto her side, keeping her eyes closed the entire time. “Seriously, Chase, she’s probably just out for a walk or something.”

“Carmine, there is someone out there hunting down her siblings. She’s in danger so long as she’s wandering the streets alone. We were literally just kidnapped merely for associating with her. We need to go find her before something bad happens to her.”

“Alright, alright, you’re made your point,” Carmine conceded. “Just… give me five minutes to actually wake up, please.”

Chase’s eyes narrowed. Without another word, he marched over to Carmine’s bed, where she was still lying with her eyes closed. She heard him approach, because she cracked one eye open.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

Chase said nothing, and instead reached down, took her by the head, and shoved her face into his armpit. Carmine struggled in his grasp, gasping and sputtering, but he held her there for a solid five seconds before finally letting her pull away. She fell back onto her bed, still gasping for breath, her eyes wide.

“You awake yet?” he asked. “Because I can put you back in if you need it.”

Carmine sucked in a few more gulps of air before fixing him with one of the harshest glares he’d ever seen her give him. “You’re an asshole, you know that?” she growled.

“That doesn’t answer my question. Do you need to go back in or not?”

“Gods above, no! I’m up, okay?!”

“Good.”

“You realize I am going to literally light a fire under your ass for that at some point, right?”

“Just so long as you’re up. And hey, now that you’re up, we can finally get to searching for our missing friend.”

Carmine let out an annoyed grumble even as she threw the covers off herself and stood up, then stretched out a bit. After a few seconds of that, she reached for her pack, took her street clothes out, and disappeared into the bathroom. She was only gone for a few minutes, and when she came back, she was dressed appropriately, though she still had an irritated look on her face.

“Did I get changed in an acceptable amount of time, or are you going to bitch about that, too?” she demanded.

“No, that was quite alright,” Chase said. “Anyway, let’s get going.”

“You don’t want to get Melanie first?”

“That depends entirely on if you think she’s done with her fuckfest yet.”

“So that’s a no, then.”

“Most likely.”

Carmine’s brow furrowed. “You know, I didn’t think the human body had that much fluid in it. That can’t be good for Heinrich.”

“Probably not, and yet somehow, I can only imagine that he feels great despite that,” Chase commented. “Anyway, let’s get going.”

Carmine nodded, and the two of them stepped out of the room together.

XXX

“Hey, Innkeep. Did you see our friend head out this way earlier?”

The large, bearded man sitting behind the counter eyed Chase with a look that just screamed he wished he was speaking to anyone else except him and Carmine. Finally, after a moment, he let out a sigh.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, but my name is Frank,” he said tiredly. “Thank you for your patronage and all, but seriously, I even have it on my name tag. The least you could do is use it properly.”

He motioned to the small tag pinned to his chest for emphasis. Chase was unperturbed.

“Yeah, okay,” Chase said dismissively. “Anyway, seriously, did you see our friend pass by earlier or not?”

“The girl in the black robes, you mean? I’m pretty sure she’s still getting piped upstairs.”

“No, the eternally pissed Paladin.”

“Oh, you meant the other one,” the innkeeper acknowledged. “Yeah, she disappeared out the door about an hour ago, right when I was starting my shift.”

“Did she say where she was going?” Carmine asked.

The innkeeper shook his head. “No, she looked pretty lost in thought. I didn’t want to disturb her, and it wasn’t my place to ask, anyway.”

“Fair enough, I guess,” Chase said to him. “Can you at least tell us which direction she went in?”

“Yeah, she left out the front door, then took a right. I think she wandered down that way for a bit, but eventually she got too far for me to keep following her through the window.”

“Perfect. Thanks, Innkeep.”

The innkeeper sighed. “I told you, my name’s… ah, to the hells with it…”

Chase gave the man a friendly wave, then motioned for Carmine to follow after him as he marched out into the city streets. The rest of the Deus Oasis seemed to be waking up at this time, as the streets were starting to fill with people; not surprising, given that, by his estimation, it was around nine in the morning. It did make their search harder, though, much to Carmine’s chagrin.

“Chase, no offense, but I don’t think we’re going to find her unless she specifically wants to be found,” she offered. “Seriously. The streets are starting to fill up, and we still have no idea where she is.”

“Then we’ll just have to ask around,” Chase insisted. “I mean, what else are we supposed to do?”

“Aside from interrogate Greg some more? Nothing, really.”

“Exactly my point. And we can’t really interrogate Greg without her, so as far as I can see it, our options are to either go looking for our missing friend, or sit at the inn and listen to Melanie get plowed over and over again.”

Carmine shuddered. “Okay, when you put it that way, looking for Victoria makes a lot more sense.”

“Perfect, glad you agree.” Chase turned to look down the street, searching in the direction the innkeeper had designated for them. “Frank said that she went this way. It looks to me like it continues on straight for a few blocks, then opens into an intersection. I think what we should do is head to the end of this street, then start asking around the shops and seeing if anyone might know more. Wash, rinse, and repeat until we get onto her trail.”

“Sounds fine to me,” Carmine conceded. “If you don’t mind, I’ll let you handle the talking, though – you have a knack for it, and I don’t.”

Chase shrugged as the two of them started walking. “Honestly, talking to people isn’t hard. I don’t know why the rest of you struggle with it so much. And don’t say it’s just because of low CHA, either – that can’t be it.”

“I just don’t like people very much.”

“Neither do I.”

“I don’t know, then,” Carmine admitted. “It’s like… when I act like an asshole to someone, they get mad at me for it. When you do it, somehow it works.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, then. Maybe try not being an asshole to people and see if that works?”

Carmine just stared at him like he’d grown a second head. Chase let out a tired sigh. “Never mind…”

XXX

“Oh yeah, the pissed-off Paladin. Yeah, I saw her pass by about an hour ago; she went that way.”

Chase gave the shopkeeper a thankful nod. “Many thanks, ma’am. We appreciate the help.”

The young woman in front of him – a pretty brunette around his age – smiled at him. “No problem, I’m happy to help! You come back any time, now.”

Chase waved her off before turning and walking away. He made it down the street before Carmine got his attention.

“She was flirting with you, you know.”

“Ha-ha,” Chase deadpanned.

“No, I’m serious,” Carmine insisted. “She liked you.”

“She was just being nice.”

“Chase, I am begging you not to be stupid about this for once in your life. Speaking as a woman, I can tell you when a woman is trying to flirt with a man, and that was definitely flirting.”

“How would you know? Last I checked, you’ve got literally zero romantic experience.”

“Call it a feminine intuition, then, I don’t fucking know. That’s not the point, though – the point is that she was interested in you.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve got bigger fish to fry right now,” Chase insisted without looking back.

“Okay, but you can always go back after we’re done looking for Victoria. Unless you’re scared of flirting back or something?”

Chase scoffed. “Of course not.”

“So then why are you so resistant to the idea of going back and hooking up with her?”

“Because I’m not interested in her. Is that good enough for you?”

“Why not?”

“She’s not my type. Dead serious.”

For the second time that day, Carmine stared at him like he had spontaneously grown another head. “...You’re stupid,” she declared.

“No, I just know what I like.”

“And what do you like, hm?”

“Redheads. Present company excluded, of course.”

“Oh, of course. I’d expect nothing less.”

“Hey, you asked.”

“I did. Hells, at this point, I’m not sure why I bother asking you questions, because I never seem to actually like the answers you give.” She let out a huff. “Anyway, good to know you’ll turn down a girl if she’s not to your specific tastes. I’ll be sure to file that information somewhere in my mind for later.”

“I’d like to remind you that we’re pretty busy right now and can’t afford distractions like that. One party member being out of commission due to having too much sex is bad enough, you don’t need a second one falling into that, either.”

“Who said anything about sex, Chase? All I’m saying is that she was pretty and she was into you. You’re the one making it more complicated and weird than it needs to be.”

Chase’s only response was to let out a tired sigh as the two of them continued walking.

XXX

Name: Chase Ironheart

Level: 10

Race: Human

Class: Warrior

Subclass: Swordmaster

Strength: 20 (MAX)

Dexterity: 15

Intelligence: 13

Wisdom: 13

Constitution: 18

Charisma: 16

Skills: Master Swordsmanship (Level 10); Booby Trap Mastery (Level 8); Archery (Level 4); Unarmed Mastery (Level 1)

Spells: Rush (Level 7); Muscle (Level 4); Stone Flesh (Level 6); Defying The Odds (Level 2)

Traits: Blessed

Name: Carmine Nolastname

Level: 10

Race: Greater Demon

Class: Arcane Witch

Subclass: Archmage

Strength: 10

Dexterity: 13

Intelligence: 19

Wisdom: 19

Constitution: 12

Charisma: 8

Skills: Master Spellcasting (Level 10); Summon Familiar (Level 10)

Spells: Magic Dart (Level 7); Magic Scattershot (Level 5); Fire Magic (Level 5); Earth Magic (Level 1)

Traits: Blessed

Name: Melanie Vhaeries

Level: 10

Race: Ascended Human

Class: Necromancer

Subclass: Arch-Lich

Strength: 8

Dexterity: 13

Intelligence: 18

Wisdom: 16

Constitution: 15

Charisma: 12

Skills: Raise Lesser Undead (Level 10); Raise Greater Undead (Level 3); Unorthodox Weapon User (Level 8); Bone Shatter (Level 1)

Spells: Touch of Death (Level 5); Gravesinger (Level 7); Armor of Bone (Level 3)

Traits: None

Name: Victoria Firelight

Level: 11

Race: Human

Class: Paladin

Subclass: Devotee

Strength: 19

Dexterity: 9

Intelligence: 13

Wisdom: 13

Constitution: 19

Charisma: 11

Skills: Swordsmanship Mastery (Level 5); Blunt Weapon Mastery (Level 8); Archery Mastery (Level 5)

Spells: Holy Light (Level 6); Ward of the Gods (Level 5); Bane of the Undead (Level 7); Divine Bolt (Level 4)

Traits: None

XXX

Special thanks to my good friend and co-writer, /u/Ickbard, for all the help with writing this story.

First | Previous | Next

“Glandock resigned!?!” Guildmaster Harper Stillenbrook shouted with utter incredulousness.

Endria’s dad may have looked like a thin wuss of a man, but he’d become the Thanigrellan Mercenary Corp Guildmaster because he was smart, ruthless, and more than that, was fearless in the face of impossible odds.  Tall, pale, toned, no one would dare disrespect him because after one look in those eyes, you knew that he’d end you for even a hint of it.  He’d had some of his units resign before, that wasn’t the issue.  What was the issue was that Glandock’s team was his daughter’s team.  She was Glandock’s right hand woman and she shouldn’t have let him resign.  She should’ve taken it over and got the job done.  The fact that she hadn’t pushed, hadn’t taken over, hadn’t overcome their teams’ deficiencies for whatever reason felt like a slap to his face… and his own honor.

He took the communication cube he’d been handed plus the letter that’d come with it via a courier to then crush them both in his hand before tossing them away.  Worse, he stood there with his primary aide, Bella handing him another letter with a shaky hand.

“Master, this is from Duke Carlisle.  He received the resignation and is… upset.  He wants you to make this right.  Says your reputation is on the line.”

Whereas Harper wore all black leather with some silver bangles to add some dash of color, Bella always wore white robes like the most chaste priestess.  She was that dark headed beauty who’d been with Harper since the beginning and was his most talented alchemist and strategist.  She would prove herself again.  Harper leaned over his desk on his hands to speak directly to her.

“Draft a response.  Tell the esteemed duke that I agree.  I have the details of our team’s failure and that they’d tracked his daughter to Maciendes itself.  Let him know that if he wants, I’ll invite him to stay at my villa there while I show him what the Thanigrellan Mercenary Corp is all about.  Results.  That daughter of his will be in his arms, I’ll guarantee it.”

“Are you certain, Master?  She’s… she bested your own daughter.”

Harper growled low.  With narrowed eyes he said, “Nothing’s ever guaranteed, but in this case, for my honor, I’ll pull it all out to make it as guaranteed as possible.  Even if I lose my ass on the expense, our honor will be maintained.  Besides, if that girl is as dangerous as Glandock and Endria make her out to be, then I’ll bleed the duke dry making sure his daughter is properly cowed and pliant for all her days.  Right, Bella?”

Bella nodded, a slight smile playing on her lips.  “No doubt she can be made pliant and easy to control.  No mage has ever been able to resist my medications.”

“Exactly.  Call them in.  Time to pull my captains together for something special.”

Bella ducked a quick bow, then turned to leave the master’s study.  A room full of books, maps, blueprints, and the implements dedicated to either eliminating powerful people, powerful mages, or… training them.  Harper wasn’t known as The Master of Gilded Cages for nothing.

--- Everthane Kingdom – Mansion home for Thanigrellan Mercenary Corp Guildmaster Harper Stillenbrook just outside of the Capital City Highcrest Valloren ---

Harper couldn’t sit still, not this evening.  Not for this mission.  He’d just had an arcane communication talk with his daughter to find out what really happened and what she’d said actually cooled his anger down and over to intrigue.  The mage they’d encountered wasn’t some untrained runaway like the Carlisle duke had described her in his letter.  She was a monster.  A true monster that outmatched her team in a morale crushing way.  If he’d been in her boots with only her resources available, he had to admit that he’d have given up as well.  They weren’t equipped to deal with a legendary thing called a Chimeramancer.  Once she’d broken down how easily that thing had turned their trap on them instead, then released stonegazed victims, Harper had actually been impressed at the morale warfare that Lady Isenwrath had engaged in.  Which had gotten Harper’s blood running hot at the chance to do something truly dangerous again.  He was sure the others that had gathered in front of him within his home’s strategy room would feel the same.

At last, they settled around his table and were silently reading the reports Bella had prepared for them.  Harper’s captains were actually the best at taking down mages because they used as little magic as possible or destroyed what mages used to even be considered mages.  While Harper paced, he reviewed his team, comparing them to what this Chimera thing could do. 

He had an Arcane Nullblade.  A man whose entire combat style revolved around grounding and redirecting magical energy that a caster could draw upon or use. 

Garruk “Stonejaw” Thryne’s twin vorpal blades could and would cut through a mage’s barriers, sealing their fates.  Next to him was a Shadowstalker Ranger who hunted magical beasts and rogue mages alike.  Traps, poisons, low-magic glyph arrows, anything that could draw out or corner his quarry was his tools of the trade. 

Selene Vaelthorn’s ability to move unseen without magic should prove vital in this hunt. 

Brother Halvorn was a runic suppressor monk who literally suppressed magic in his vicinity, which should help the team get close if they needed to engage with the Chimera up close and personal to beat her into submission. 

To help him contain and keep their target subdued was Threxa Ironpaw, a Beast‑Warden Berserker from Nivorath.  The bearlike woman who was famous for her people’s totemic training which granted resistance to mind‑altering spells, and her sheer strength makes her ideal for grappling and restraining dangerous targets such as the chimera. 

Since the Chimeramancer loved arcana crystals so much, Harper made sure to bring in Mira “Glasswitch” Durn, his Crystalbreaker Saboteur.  That prim lady understood the ins and outs of arcana crystal magic above and beyond most Arch Magisters and even other professors.  If there was going to be a way to use that fixation on those crystals against the Chimera, the Glasswitch would find and exploit it. 

In order to drag off their target with the least amount of trouble, Veyran Dusksong, an Ether‑Net Weaver captain who taught many beastmasters their trade had gladly joined in.  His crafting of alchemical containment nets woven from mana‑reactive fibers were still prized across the Everthane guilds. Those nets were hardened into unbreakable restraints when exposed to magical energy, making them ideal for capturing a mage without feeding her power. 

This time, Harper had brought a big gun to help him.  His first captain.  His best friend and the only person who knew ALL of Harper’s secrets.  Kaelorin the Quiet, a senior Oathbound Paladin of the Silent Vigil.  Kaelorin was a solemn divine warrior whose power comes from sacred vows and prayer rather than arcane spellcasting. His holy radiance shouldn’t be consumed by a Chimeramancer. Kaelorin blessed iron chains and sanctified restraints designed for subduing heretical mages alive were definitely going to compliment the nets. 

Last, but not least, was Bella Arkwright, a genius Alchemical Tactician as well as his Second‑in‑Command.  The reports were hers.  The suggested tactics were hers.  The whole plan would take shape only if she approved.  He trusted her just as much as Kaelorin.

Harper finally sat down when everyone returned their attention to him.  “Chimeramancer.  This is the target of a lifetime.  She’s already scared off one team who tried to take her, but we aren’t going to be so easily intimidated.  What I want us to do is prove that we still have what it takes to deliver on the impossible once again.  You all have the tools; I just know it.  Now, let’s get to work.  Bella?”

Bella stood, smoothed her white robe down, then clasped her hands together while scanning the table and the interested mercenaries.  “Everyone, Lady Isenwrath is deadly, unpredictable, and protected.  From what we’ve found out, she is literally in the Grand Duke’s bedchamber at night and has access to the king and queen of Maciendes whenever she wants.  She’s gathered allies from not only the soldiers that have been assigned to her, but the army in general.  The Tower Master of Maciendes himself is on her side, and the likely rumor is that he is going to sponsor her admission into the Tower itself.  So, as I’ve outlined, the mission is to subdue, take, and present a dutiful daughter to Duke Carlisle so she can be married off as a prize as well as a catalyst to a change in the political landscape.  This act could cause a war.  This act could cause a disruption between the masters of every Tower in the eleven kingdoms.  Not only is our target dangerous, but her elevated status has made our mission almost catastrophically stupid to attempt.  Yet, we are.  And here’s my first draft.”

She turned to step to a simple chalkboard, flipped it over, then read her topline plan.  “We are going to be subtle about this.  First, we infiltrate the castle of Maciendes but not the main areas that would have the most oversight, the peripheries.  From there, we gather more concrete intelligence to refine our plans.   While doing so, Selene will reconnoiter the inner parts where our prey is.  She can get us information to not only learn more about her, but also about who’s in her circles.  I want us to find out who prepares our prey's meals.  I want control over them so we can feed her my alchemy concoctions to slow her down, dull her senses, slowly weaken her.  If she gets sick, all the better.  We’ll be ready to lend a friendly doctor, won’t we Kaelorin?”

“Yes.  She’d have the best of care.”

“Right.  If not, then it’s still a simple matter of working our way in, one day at a time.  One of us will eventually find the opportunity to speak with her.  We’ll be able to leave a stronger contact drug on her either through powder or oil, won’t matter as long as she gets touched.  I plan to essentially dull her mind enough that she won’t fight it much when we’re able to arrange for her to be lightly guarded.  Selene will monitor.  Garruk, you’ll return to guard duty and will work your way in with your credentials.  Halvorn, you and I will infiltrate the kitchens.  Between us, we’ll be able to get into the primary galley and then we’ll tag team delivering her not only my alchemy, but your mana suppression crystals.  I’ll work with you on getting them down to a decent dust to sprinkle on her food.  I’m not looking for instant suppression, but a build up over time.  Hopefully, it won’t be obvious until it’s too late.  Threxa, you’re our go between.  Stay in the wood and keep hidden wherever on the grounds.  I don’t want to risk arcane means of communication; they’ll have measures against it.  Let’s stick with simple notes left in strategic places that you sneak out at night to retrieve and coordinate with Harper our needs.  Glasswitch, sabotage her supply of arcana crystals.  Whatever you have to do, kill their shipments of them from getting within the castle.  Kill her food supply.  Kaelorin and Veyran, you two are our wild cards.  Threxa will communicate with you to come in when we can figure out how to use you best.  In the meantime, get ready to trap her.  Lock her down with net and paralytic prayer.  She’s a mage, she won’t be able to fight off the physical and divine at the same time.  Thoughts?”

Harper sat back, smiling in satisfaction.  Bella had pulled together a nice rough draft of a plan.  Slow, deliberate, adaptable, and will likely ensnare that monster.  Now, he had to speak up.

“Bella.  I have to commend you again.  However, the timeline is three weeks from the moment of infiltration.  I can’t give it more than that, sorry.  So, adapt to that first.  Second, after we take her off the grounds, I want to dull her further down into a slave for whoever marries her.  I want her to be seen as a very weak mage who only knows how to obey her husband.  That’s it.  That’s the goal.  Add that into your plans and deliver her to our warehouse for her alterations.  I’ll work with Kincaid this week.  He’s my new artificer and I’m sure he can create the proper control collar and mind-numbing inscription disc that he can surgically implant into her skull when she’s delivered. “

The team looked around at each other, saw that no one had any objections, then they began to discuss the plan in more detail.  Harper listened for a while, didn’t interrupt when a few arguments got heated, then were resolved.  At the end of two hours, the plan had been refined but wasn’t without backups, alternatives, and other adaptations.  His team finally stood up with Harper who held up a drink that his servers had just placed in front of each of them.

“To Thanigrellan, may the master of shadows ever be at our backs and in our hearts.” Harper began the toast

His captains returned it with, “To the shadows, may they forever hide us from enemies and our hearts from the fear of doing what Thanigrellan commands.”

First | Previous | Next

“Let’s see that again,” Everthane Tower Chronomancer Hadran said evenly before reaching out his hand which was still encircled by the yellow discs of Chrono Magic instructions that slowly spun around it.  He turned his hand like he would some kind of knob causing the illusion images in front of his hunting party to reverse in time, then stop.

After he tapped a sigil that slowly circled his hand, the images began to move forward in time again, replaying what had happened just a few nights before.  This time, the images had sound.  Hadran had done this for so long that in almost all cases what was said wasn’t as important as what needed to be seen.  Yet, this time, he didn’t spare the mana and had put forth that extra strain on his resources and concentration to hear what had been said.

They watched it play out again where they saw and heard what had happened within that Inn’s room.  A ten-person mercenary team had been humbled so much that they resigned from their contract on the spot.  Yet, while they’d heard that, it was what their target had done so casually that had caught all of their attention.

Hadran slowed the vision down to study the beastly woman casting her stone to flesh spells.  Sonja Messentier, their abjurer also watched intently to it and at the teleportation.  The hunters and eldritch blades studied the woman herself.  Neither Hadran nor Sonja dressed like mages today.  Instead, they too had dressed like the fighters and hunters.  Close fitting leather padded outfits of either brown, grey, or deep red respectively that were comfortable, easy to move in, and full of useful pockets and pouches.  They were a team so they dressed the part.  Hadran had led similar ad hoc teams like this over the years, so he made sure that they felt like a unit instead of random people trying to get along.

Hadran paused it just before the mercenary leader called it quits.  “She didn’t use a spell.  This is a magical beast ability, I’m certain of it now.”

Sonja grunted.  Then asked, “How’d she turn them to stone though?  That’s mid-level at best and these guys don’t look like amateurs.”

Standing back to think about it, Hadran glanced over to Sablenoir to ask, “Question for you. Have you any experience with basilisk?”

Sablenoir flipped her blonde braid from one shoulder to the other before leaning back on Tomok’s arm and shoulder.  He was sitting on the floor because he was almost too big for the room itself.  She was thinking about it, probably for a bit too long, yet Hadran didn’t push.

“I do.  We’ve gotten contracts a few times to take a few out for their obvious wealth and such.  The stares aren’t that difficult to avoid.  And if you have the proper counterspell ready, the stoning can be reversed.  But honestly, none of those guys should’ve been turned like that.  Either they should’ve been able to withstand it and shrug it off or they should’ve been able to avoid her gaze.”

“Watch her reverse it again.  See the difference.” Hadran said patiently before rewinding it, then let it play out in slow motion again.

Sablenoir took a few steps then studied the woman and choked on what Hadran was trying to point out.  “Fuck me.  She didn’t stare at them.  She cast it from her mouth.  How could she do that?”

Sonja had stepped up and had watched it too.  “Hadran, you keep saying a Chimeramancer EATS magic and magic abilities.  Do you think she ATE stone-stares from basilisks then just what… puked them out again?”

“I’m saying that from what we’re looking at, that’s exactly what she did.  Worse, you’re right that normally it’s mid-tier at best but if my assumptions prove true, she’s COMBINING them to create higher tiered versions.  Think about it.  These people weren’t prepared to defend against a basilisk ability, they didn’t know she’d cast it from her mouth, and likely they couldn’t have known that she might be able to make them more powerful than anyone could know.”

“Those are a lot of assumptions, but they SOUND probable,” commented Tomok from where he still sat.

“This woman… chimera… she’s not going to be easy to subdue.  Her body is literally an amalgam of at least ten elite creatures.  She’s clearly a shapeshifter and is able to use magic in an unprecedented fashion.  If they couldn’t take her by surprise, I highly doubt we will either.”  Ixianth, the Eldritch Blade Ladyscale Knight commented while running her green scaled dragonkindred claws around the illusion of the beast woman like she was trying to touch her.  She turned her bright red eyes to Hadran to see what thoughts were cranking through his head.

The other Eldritch Blade, a dark elf named Ellidiander ran his hand through his short white hair.  “It’s obvious that we’re outmatched here.  We can’t pretend otherwise.  Neither of you mage types know all of what spells she can use nor what magical beast abilities she might have at the ready.  Sablenoir confirmed that she’s at least got over thirty just from the first few floors of Shinenoor.  We can’t counter all of that.  These guys proved it.  So, that leads us to outwitting her instead.  Doesn’t it?”

Hadran and Sonja looked at each other, then over at Ellidiander.  Sonja commented, “That’s a very astute observation.  If we can’t confront her, we should be thinking of how to trap her with something other than force.  Hadran?”

Hadran wiped away his chronovision then went to sit on one of the beds that was beside Tomok.  “Well, that’s probably safer.  However, the treaty I hold is a last resort because it’ll be a legal bomb that’ll bring a lot of immediate attention to our situation.  What we need is leverage of some type.  What can we get in front of her that will force her to meet with us and then we can sway her with reasonable words and subtle mind magic to get her to leave without a fight?”

Ixianth sat beside Sonja after she took a seat at the small table opposite Tomok.  Then she said, “Well, for something like that, Uthenda gave us the vouchers to secure a Bard.  Why not bring one in now and see what they can do?”

“I know one whose been rather successful in these types of missions.  He’s helped us both rescue a few women from bad situations as well as put a few others into them in order to ruin them.  He’s a real panty dropper, that’s for sure.” Sablenoir commented.

Tomok chuckled evilly.  “That’s why I won’t let Sable and him ever be alone together.  He’s a devious little runt and he relishes in it.”

“Look Tomok!  For the last time, I’m not interested in him!  Just because we were talking alone at that party doesn’t mean anything happened!  He’d just broken up with his betrothed!  I was comforting a friend!”  She said that with an exasperated toss of her arms.  When she looked around, no one looked at her with any sympathy.  None of them bought what she was selling.

Sonja leaned forward to put a point on it.  “And that’s what Bard’s do, my lovely.  They manipulate you into dropping your guard and pants just by telling you the lies you wanna hear.  I wouldn’t let you stay around him alone either. Hells, I DON’T even want to be alone around him either.  He charmed you and you still don’t even realize it.  To me, that’s one helluva reason to hire him for our supposedly naive runaway daughter, don’t you think?”

Hadran grunted an approval while Sable turned to look up at Tomok’s understanding face.  “You believe me right?”

“Yes.  Trust you.  No.  I trust myself to know when you’re able to think clearly and when your crotch is thinking for you. He’s too good at his job, my dear heart. That’s why I didn’t dump your ass that night. Now, no more arguing or you lose desserts for a week.”

Sable turned, huffed, stamped her foot, then sat on Tomok’s lap like a spoiled kid.  The group chuckled at her expense.  Tomok placed his arm on her lap where she immediately pulled it up to have him hold her fully.  She still had her mad face on, but she wasn’t going to apologize for needing to be comforted at that moment.

Hadran sat back to then talk out loud to everyone, “Fine, we get our Bard.  We coordinate with him to seduce her away from her safe places and feed her the lies that’ll at least get her out of the capital.  She can fly and teleport, so we need to counter those abilities.  She can shapeshift.  I think I know how to lock her out of that.  What we also need beyond planning out those details is our opportunity.  We need to somehow insert our Loverboy into her life in some way that doesn’t raise her alarms nor the Duke’s.  We find that, then we’ve got the rest.  So, let’s get out of here and start making inroads into the noble ranks for upcoming parties, celebrations, and other gatherings that a new bride to be to a Duke would be present at.”

Sablenoir asked from her spot on Tomok, “When is her Everthane tutor supposed to come?”

Smiling, Hadran said with some hope in his tone, “The Duke and Tobias had a discussion just yesterday with Duke Simon Dearborn and Uthenda.  Uthenda has run interference for all of us and smoothed over the request to the king.  The king and his advisors don’t really understand the danger the chimeramancer is presenting, but he does know that she’s very very dangerous.  It is so dangerous that he’s agreed to Uthenda’s request to place a trusted mage into the role of a tutor for our dear duchess to be.  So, two more days tops.”

Sonja got up to look out of the window while she spoke.  “A Bard and a tutor spy.  Not bad.  However, we still need something to get her attention, in my opinion.  I was able to speak with my uncle who helps with the castle’s food deliveries this morning.  He’s gotten word that our target is under the tightest security measures.  She’s never alone so even at these celebrations and such, our Bard is going to find it extremely difficult to manufacture something where she can be alone with him.  Unless we can manufacture something more directly with the tutor to the Bard.  Perhaps, our lady would like music lessons?  Or something else artsy that would pull her into his wicked embrace more naturally than some chance meeting in a ballroom?”

Sablenoir nodded approvingly.  “Hadran, I think she’s got us a decent plan framework. Still, we need to get the royal calendar and find out what the lady is attending, then we can talk to the tutor about recommending him.  He’s a Maciendes man originally, so it might work.  If not, we figure out another way to introduce them.”

Ellidiander barked a sharp laugh.  “T’would be a shame if the Duke caught her in the bed of another man.  Sure would be easier to snatch her away if she were being run out of the kingdom.”

Hadran shook his head negatively.  “Don’t count on it.  This isn’t some woman who’s tired of being neglected by her husband or something.  She’s being courted by a man of honor and that’s extremely hard to compete against.   Best thing we should shoot for is just getting her alone and talking to her in a reasonable fashion.  Give her the truths of her situation and persuade her to come back to Everthane for the good of her duke or some such mess like that.  Only if she tries to walk away, do we hit everyone with legal proceedings that they’re not ready to defend against.  Maybe we can take advantage of her in another way, but unless our Bard charms her completely, I don’t see it happening.”

Tomok chuckled low before saying, “Let’s get out of this cramped room and talk more about this over a proper dinner.  I’ll buy the first round.”

Sablenoir stood up, kissed the side of his head, then said, “If I admit that I got snookered, would you let me get a glass of Yaltherin wine?”

Tomok nodded with a smile.

“I got snookered and I’ll never let myself near a Bard again,” she said with as much humility as possible.

Tomok stood among the light laughter at their marriage manament.  “Two glasses because I believe you.”

Hadran was pleased about their team’s solidarity as they all followed a very happy Sablenoir and a pleased Tomok out of the cramped room.  They were on track to locking down the most dangerous creature ever to exist, he just knew it.

First | Previous | Next

---Maciendes Capital City – The Noble’s Shopping District where everything is exquisite and expensive.  Where the power of the upper classes show off to one another as a matter of honor.  Where a monster is walking the streets thinking that this is the grandest adventure ever while those around her were just guarding against it all going wrong. ---

There’s something very eye-catching when a busy shopping district gets invaded by a noble who brings not only four maids, a butler, but also ten soldiers with them to keep the populace separated from said noble.  Except the populace that had to move aside to make room for that many people attending that single noble didn’t know that the lady in the center of them wasn’t exactly a noble and those guards weren’t exactly protecting her from any of them.  Instead, those soldiers were under orders to subtly keep Isenwrath from either becoming overwhelmed by the sights and the thousands of people around her or to keep that lady from becoming… let’s go with irrational when something unexpected happens.

For Isenwrath herself, she just thought that Duke Maddock was being sweet again and doting on her.  He’d reluctantly stayed behind at the castle to resume his duties. He had a stack of papers from his manor to work through, meetings with the king, his advisors, as well as other politicians in the castle that day. Plus he was sending communications out left and right to set plans in motion for a certain love interest to come to his proper home.  Which meant he had no choice but to stay behind and worry about not being by Isenwrath’s side.  Which also meant that Scarlett Kiernan, his Chief Maid and Clovis Donavan, his Chief of Staff and Butler had arrived just in time to begin preparing Isenwrath for her fate as Duchess Devonshire.  Maddock didn’t worry as much, but still, she WAS a handful sometimes.

Princess Hayleigh had tried to join in on the shopping fun but was quickly shut down because her extra credit summer studies came first according to her mother, Queen Sophitia. Thankfully, she was able to schedule a shopping day later that week with Isenwrath and her brothers who were absolutely going to be destitute when they got done with those boy’s wallets.  But that didn’t mean Hayleigh didn’t have any say in the matter today. 

As soon as she found out about that shopping trip exclusion, she’d given Scarlett a payment voucher from her own savings account plus tea party dress recommendations for Scarlett to use.  The fancy tea party was in three days, so they both knew it would have to be a rush alterations job only.  Then custom dresses would come after that.  Which was pretty much Scarlett’s whole job that day.  Shopping mission priority one: Get at least five or so new outfits and/or dresses on order to be altered with more orders for a few custom ones to be delivered later.  The spare wardrobe at the castle just didn’t have all that a noble duchess would require for any length of time.

Isenwrath didn’t understand that thinking since she told Scarlett that very morning that she could just borrow one of the maid’s outfits for the day and she could wash the two dresses she already had in the big tub that was in her new room down the hall from the Duke’s.  She had even rolled up her homespun dress that she wore for a second day to show Scarlett, Helena, Clovis, and the others that she knew what she was doing.  And this time, she could do it better than when she had only one good working hand.

Yes.  Exactly.  That was abhorrent to Scarlett, Clovis, their maid staff, as well as Isenwrath’s new personal maid-in-training Daniella DeLancy.  The cute young girl was a short beast-kin with tufted black cat ears, wide golden cat slit eyes, a black cat’s tail, and the attitude to match.  However, one look between Isenwrath and Daniella was all it took for Daniella to lose that infamous stubborn streak she had to then gush all over at being appointed as Isenwrath’s personal maid. 

Scarlett had been so startled at the sudden change of attitude in her most irritating of appointments that she pulled the beast-kin girl aside just before they left to ask what it was all about.  Scarlett didn’t honestly know what to do with Daniella’s answer of, “You don’t sass someone who smells like a Dire Displacer Cat Matron. Whoever this noble lady is, she’s my matron now and I’m going to make her proud of me.”

That morning had been rather eye-opening to the new people in Isenwrath’s life for other reasons as well beyond how positively some like Daniella responded to her.  Especially during bath time when Helena had overseen that little adventure personally.  Scarlett was so perplexed as to why Helena had handed her a rolled-up newspaper to her until she glared at the beautiful future duchess who’d stuck out an impossible tongue towards the hot water faucet.  That lady looked at the two of them with wide fear-filled eyes because Helena had caught her.  “Isen,” she said low and sternly while showing her the newspaper.  Isenwrath pulled that tongue back in to then stare sheepishly at the bubbles in her tub.  The two other maids slowly resumed washing her hair not knowing what the hell was going on. Daniella also had a worried look on her face, but she persevered by getting the scrub brush ready for Operation: Washing The Lady, Phase 2.

Helena shrugged after handing the newspaper roll to Scarlett.  She whispered into Scarlett’s ear, “She’s a different kind of mage.  She eats magic crystals.  Don’t let her.  She really really doesn’t like the newspaper roll even though I’d never ever hit her with it which makes sense given her past.  So, other than bath time, just be easy with her because from what the Duke has told me in confidence, she was an abused child.  That doesn’t mean you let her get away with shit but be understanding in your admonishments.”

That sealed it for Scarlett.  She understood exactly what Helena had told her. She understood that look in Isen’s eyes too.  Much more intimate than Helena could guess.  This was because Scarlett had personally taken in a mother and her two sons two years ago to hide them away from an abusive drunkard of a husband and father.  The Duke didn’t hesitate to help them when she finally confided in him.  That evil man never saw his wife and sons again because of the Duke’s magnanimity.  From that time onward, she’d done her best to help those two boys learn to live and trust again. It was that as well as taking in an unruly beast-kin girl from Maximillian himself to help hide her and also try to get her to stop thinking she had to fight the world.  Thus, Scarlett knew how to treat this erratic woman in her midst.  That kind of irrational fear came from flashes of remembered pain.  Plain and simple.  Just like with Gregory, Ullyssus, and even to an extent Daniella, you didn’t use violence to help them learn and grow.  You used love and understanding to get through to them.  You get them to stop, to listen, to repeat the lesson, then show them how to move forward by being the example. 

That’s when Scarlett set the newspaper roll aside, then leaned on the tub to say, “My Lady.  I understand you want the hot water crystals, but we need them instead.  So, if you promise not to try to take them anymore, I’ll let you choose a morning snack reward instead.  A snack only, something small.  Promise?”

Those big blue eyes studied her for a few moments.  Scarlett saw the intelligence in those eyes.  Yet she also saw when they shifted over to naiveté too.  The woman then asked cautiously, “Can I have just one crystal with a whimsy in it?  That would be all I’d need.”

“Promise first.”

She smiled at her, then nodded.  “I promise not to eat the faucet crystals.”

“Good.  Then next time, I’ll have a snack ready.”

Helena was beaming at her in pride while Scarlett and she went to get Lady Isen’s clothes for the day ready.  Scarlett said matter-of-factly, “The Duke sent me a bunch of wild information about her in my summons.  The one thing I noticed was that she’s a reward driven lady.  You don’t have to threaten her, just reward her.  She’s going to be very easy to educate in how to be a proper noble.  Especially since I don’t have to use chocolates!  I won’t have to worry about her waistline!” she exclaimed in amusement.

Helena took it up, giggling about their fun new duchess to be. “I know right!?  The glutton for chocolate is that little monster on the bed!  Get down, Bubblescale!  Off my clean bed, now!”

Scarlett and Helena laughed when they shooed off the rainbow dragon from Isenwrath’s bed, even though she probably wouldn’t sleep there.  He grumbled a lot but obeyed.  Scarlett snagged a cookie from her pocket that she’d been saving for later, tossing it to him.  One expert catch and crunch later, that cookie was gone and a happy Bubblescale followed Scarlett around for most of the morning since he wasn’t allowed to go into the city with Isenwrath’s shopping brigade.  Scarlett hadn’t minded since she was used to three big dogs that belonged to the whole kitchen crew where they did much the same.  They were also good at keeping some of the vermin down in the castle gardens as well as some of the staff’s quarters.

So, Isenwrath was holding the hand of Daniella today while Daniella, Scarlett, Harmony, and Beatrice pointed out various sights and fun things the other nobles were showing off.  Bennett was in front of them with his fellow Isenwrath Personal Knight named Bronson Jonstone.  The two of them were clearing the way by holding up the Devonshire crests proudly upon pennant staff flags.  They wanted to be noticed and the people made wary.  Four of their guards were pulling small wagons that held bags and boxes of purchased items and didn’t seem to mind getting a chance to be out and about today either.  They wore the Duke’s tabards over their light leather uniforms, but their weapons were ready just in case.  They hadn’t bothered asking Thena to come for magical support.  Mainly since she just scoffed at such a request pointing to Isenwrath as if that explained it all before she headed out to make a quick teleport to the Tower to discuss the upcoming mage academy indoctrination and class schedules for Isenwrath.  The guards that day were proud and made sure to make everyone around them know it.  It was for everyone’s safety.  As well as a more public announcement that the Duke was favoring someone, and others should think a whole bunch of times before thinking the beautiful lady in their care was a mark for any shady shenanigans.  The gossip mill had started at the celebration of the army’s return.  It now had fresh ammunition from today’s excursion.

After the shopping brigade entered a third shop, this time for shoes where the soldiers fanned out to watch everyone, someone who might want to go against good sense pulled back into the shadows of a rooftop sign.  “She’s got too much security.  What’s so damned special about her that requires ten guards?”

The communication’s globe that the black-haired woman spoke to didn’t immediately answer her.  The woman who wore a generic pants outfit that would allow her to blend in with any crowd she walked through checked the front of the shop again.  They hadn’t moved much, just normal position changes and careful observations of anyone going in and out of that shop while the woman only known as Isenwrath was inside. 

Currently, the woman spying on Isenwrath had been tasked with learning everything about this famous Black Knight of Maciendes hero yet there was just nothing to find.  None of the registries in the surrounding kingdoms had anyone named Isenwrath.  Not for births, not for military service, not even for mage tower or adventurer guild memberships.  Nothing.  So, how could the Grand Duke of all people have this woman that came from nowhere on his arm.  Especially after it became obvious she was a mage of some type which was usually disqualifying in some way to being within the political circles of power.  The gossip from her introduction was still going strong.  And the whole of the Maciendes army wasn’t talking.  Not even most of the civilians who’d travelled with them.  No matter who she talked to, when she uttered the word Isenwrath, they just smiled, then said she was a good fit with the Duke.  They would talk about her prowess on the battlefield or how she helped with the cooks or that she helped with their wounded, but no specifics.  How was a gossip journalist supposed to earn a living with the hottest story to date with no one talking?

The dwarven man in her communication’s globe sighed.  “That’s what you’re supposed to find out, Steph.   So, go down there and find out.  Look, I just saw a petition for citizenship hit the judiciary schedules that had her name on it.  They don’t list a dynasty, just a petition to declare her as a Maciendes citizen.”

“That’s weird.  Have any of your contacts within the castle said anything we can use yet?”

“No.  She’s been kept isolated so far.  Only the royal family, the head maid, butler, and of course all of those guards.  They’ve intercepted everyone else and haven’t let anyone else get close.  That spectacle where she snotted a remove curse potion all over that duke isn’t something a normal mage can do.  I know there’s a story there that’s got to be told and you’re the girl who’s got the best chance to bring it to me.  The money we could rake in for this scoop is going to be astronomical, I can taste it.”

“Look, Stell.  I did find something but I’m not sure what it means.”

“What?  Anything could be the breakthrough.”

“I hit up a couple secretaries in the mage tower and they saw something odd.  Maximillian Maciendes himself is scheduling for this Isenwrath lady to be officially tested and currently, it’ll be with the next class of students.  So, that confirms that she’s a mage.  But here’s the thing that Jenet said that stuck out as odd.  There’s to be a demonstration afterward and it’s with their senior class.  That means whoever Isenwrath is, she’s a mage at or above their students’ levels.  If she’s not in the mage registries for the eleven kingdoms, where the seven hells did she get training from?”

“Good question.  Now, maybe this one should be asked too.  Why did the King’s steward send a request for rush delivery to the Tower this morning for a fresh load of arcana crystals of any quality and of any random use?  That’s what I called you about to perhaps ask our new lady.  I just got a copy of that invoice from Franksten in castle accounting.  Before you head home tonight, you need to drop by his office and give him the envelope I’ve couriered to your normal pickup spot.”

Steph sighed out with a bit of disgust. “Damn it.  He’s a smarmy shit.  You know I hate dealing with him.”

“He’s in love with you.  Come on lass, give him a chance.”

“No, I’m in love with Calvar and you know it.  Besides, he’s a creep and never meets my eyes, just stares at my chest.”

“Well, it’s a nice chest.”

“Shut up, you dirty dwarf.  Just for that, I’m going to tell your wife.”

“Girl.  Listen here.  I’ve got enough problems, don’t be addin’ to ‘em.”

“Take it back?”

“Yeah.  I take it back.  You’re the ugliest hag I ever did see.  Feel better?”

“Much.  Okay, I’ll check back in within three hours.  If you don’t hear from me, check the justice jail for me.”

“Will do, Steph.  Good luck.”

“You too.  Oh, and tell Madra that I made her bread recipe and it did the trick.  My loverboy’s family praised it as the perfect addition to their dinner.  I think I may get his mother’s approval finally.”

“That’s my girl!  Will do!  Now, go get that scoop!”

“On it!”

Steph tapped the globe to dissolve it, then put away her wand.  After standing up, she glanced over the roof ridge again and was glad the soldiers were still there and still chatting low with each other while still being wary.  Looking around she noticed that the day was getting late and likely they’d either visit one or two more shops, then head back for an evening meal.  Plenty of time to create a small chance meeting and try to get into some kind of good graces with the lady of no repute.

Steph pulled a mirror, checked her makeup.  “Good.  Not too flashy.”

Next, she straightened her clothes out, tucked her wand and mirror back in an expensive carry bag, then trotted back to the stairway and down into the bakery she’d ducked into.  When she passed the chef, she gave him a quick hug and got a muffin from his mom to munch on. 

Many businesses in the area had become Stephs’ family over the years because she did one thing that endeared her to them.  She told the truth.  When she heard something going wrong, she made sure the people involved were either outed or protected.  These businesses had had shady tax collectors or some touch of extortion trying to establish something under the king’s guards’ noses and Steph made sure that they were rooted out lickitysplit.  Thus, in the merchant and noble sections, she’d built a rather impressive network over the years that her boss Stell paid her handsomely for. 

Hopefully, this new scoop would give her enough commission to take her new love interest out to somewhere exotic to get into some baby making shenanigans.  Calvar was the silversmith’s son and apprentice.  Handsome, strong, stable, kind, and perfect.   Steph had tried to find love with some bad boys before and learned her lessons.  It just took an honest man with a wit so dry that he’d literally humbled lesser men that had grabbed her heart and she wasn’t ever gonna give him a reason to let her go.  Her new guy hadn’t even dated anyone before her, so she was rather proud to be opening up his worldviews… and bedroom views too.  His back shots were amazing and so was the silvered mithril bracelet he’d handcrafted for her birthing day celebration. 

Speaking of that bracelet, she let it twinkle again in the light while she made her way over to the shop with all of the guards.  Honest emotions like that helped her stand near all of those guards without raising their warning bells.  Leaning on a signpost, munching on her delightful thistian spiced muffin, she waited.  There was no way to get into that shoe shop at this time, so she’d have to follow them to another and gauge it for an opportunity.

When the noble lady and her retinue exited the shop, Steph was honestly impressed.  That woman was more beautiful than half of the population in the capital, including many of the elven women she’d ever seen.  She had a healthy laugh, her eyes took in everything like it was all a dream, and she even held a beast-kin maid’s hand without any of the normal reticence of most upper-class humans who associated with them.  That was because they were seen as one step away from demons themselves, unfortunately.  Sad really because Steph liked and was even friends with several, including the black cat-related ones that primarily resided near the shipping and manufacturing district.

While she stood there watching, the guards surrounded Isenwrath and the staff. Two of the guards who were likely the sergeants were right beside the lady too and chatting happily.  Then it happened and it almost made Steph choke on her muffin.  Lady Isenwrath stopped, then abruptly turned to look directly at her.  The look on her face held no emotion, but she and Steph definitely locked eyes with each other.  Then Isenwrath turned back, took a step, and it was like nothing had happened.  Thankfully a small crowd of hungry shoppers passed in front of Steph which gave her the opportunity to move away from that location so all of those around that mage didn’t spot her.

That one look shook Steph.  She’d never had something like that occur before.  But that didn’t stop her.  So, she did what she would normally do when a target was kind of in the know about her.  She used her mirror magic to follow the lady.  Taking out her small mirror again, she cast a very low level and low mana spell to snap into existence many more small mirrors down the lane.  Handy little spying devices that she could turn, tune, and move around as needed up and away from most people’s notice.  She had Isenwrath in her sights again as well as a way to watch where she went.  They crossed one of the scenic bridges that was over one of the waterways that broke up the districts with cooling water, a pleasant sight for the eyes, singing boatmen who provided fun tours and delighted the ears, and gave Steph an opportunity to catch up, then get ahead of them.  There was only one shop that these people would be heading to across this particular bridge.  Not that there weren’t any shops for nobles to blow their money in, but for a lady getting a new wardrobe, the only one that would be of any interest was the top-rated perfumery called Scents Beyond Divinity Boutique.

This time, Steph set up a spot across from the shop after sprinting across a secondary bridge then through some of the back alleys.  Sure enough, the first guards topped the bridge to head straight to her location.  If they took the next left, then Steph could cross the avenue and be directly in front of that perfumery.  She saw them take that left, smiled brightly, then sent her mirror network ahead and around that viable new location.  It was all set up when Step sat down at a small café to watch and wait.  The waitress soon found her and Steph decided to order some klaffein with honey and bandral cow cream to help keep her cover.  Within ten minutes, she took her second sip of the delicious drink to watch the guards spread out again and the others enter.  Twenty minutes later, Steph wanted to run screaming.

A hand clamped on the back of her neck, squeezing it.  Then a voice lowered to her ear to say low, “I don’t know who you are, but I’m skittish in public.  You’re watching me with mirrors and it’s making me extremely nervous.  I’m barely holding together as it is.  So.  You better tell me exactly what you want from me, or you may not make it home tonight. I will defend myself and I’m not known to leave bodies behind.”

Steph slowly turned her head to see that beautiful woman named Isenwrath’s face very close to hers and staring directly into her eyes.  The lady had that same expressionless look on her face, but there was no doubt in Steph’s mind that she was in deep shit.

Slowly, Steph sat her earthen mug on the small iron wrought table.  Then she said just as low, “I’m Steph.  I’m with a local newsletter that focuses on the nobles like their new business ventures, political stances, charity works, gossip and rumors, and exposing crimes they may commit in order to help the justice system do their jobs.”

“Oh.  So… you’re just wanting to find out more about Duke Maddock?”

Steph quirked her head at that.  “No.  You.”

“Why me?”

“Lady, no one knows who you are.  I want to tell everyone that.”

“Oh.  I’m Isenwrath and I’m Duke Maddock’s Sweetheart.  Is that enough?”

Smiling at the confusion that Isenwrath seemed to be having regarding what Steph was saying, she tried again.  “Where do you come from, are you a noble, what kind of mage are you, how did you meet Duke Devonshire, those are the questions I was sent to find out.”

“Oh,” Isenwrath stood upright, letting Steph go.  “That’s a lot of questions.”

“The one I want answered first is how’d you sniff me out like that?  I was being careful and respectful.”

Isenwrath shrugged to say, “You watched me like prey, not a predator.  Your wariness alerted me.  If you’d have been really hunting me, you’d have masked your presence better.”

“What kind of mage are you?!” Steph asked incredulously.  “Mages don’t do that, Beastmasters do!”

“I don’t know what kind of mage I am.  Not yet.  I get tested soon though.”

Steph sat back in her chair to study this woman, really study her.  “You know, ever since you were introduced at the victory celebration, a lot of people are interested in you.  Let’s do this.  Why don’t you just agree to an interview?  It’d save me a bunch of headaches.”

“What does it matter?”

Steph was amused by her confusion.  “Uhhh… because you ARE Duke Maddock’s Sweetheart, that’s why?”

“Oh.  But… he may not like me…”

“Lady Isenwrath!”

Both of them turned to see the guards from in front of the boutique marching over. 

“Hi Bennett!  Hi Bronson!  I made a new friend!” she waved and said excitedly

“My lady, she’s not your friend.  Please, come back into the boutique and don’t do that again.  Teleporting away from us like that isn’t rewarded.  Duke Maddock will be upset if we tell him.”

“Oh!” Isenwrath said with what looked like horror on her face.  “I’m.. I’m sorry!  I’m coming, I’ll…!”

Just like that, she was gone in barely a flash of blue.

Bennett leaned down to Steph, a warning clear in his tone. “Ms. Stephanie Vacquiran, while it’s an honor to meet you and we do appreciate your reporting, you will respect this friendly warning.  Do not approach her again.  She’s being protected for many reasons and none of them need to be known to the public yet.  The KING will give out the pertinent information on Lady Isenwrath when it’s appropriate, not before.  This is our only warning.  There won’t be another.”

“Are you seriously threatening me?” she asked with some shock on her face.  “My profession is protected.”

“Not THAT protected, Ms. Vacquiran.  And especially not from King Tobias Maciendes himself.  Leave her alone.”

Still not deterred, Steph leaned forward, “Okay.  Fine.  I’ll do that but do me a favor.  Tell Duke Maddock or even King Tobias himself that if they want to keep this from happening again, they need to let me do a proper interview with her.  The rumors are flying and no public announcement is going to stop them.”

Bennett straightened, then held out his hand, “Give me your contact information.  I’ll pass that along just in case the Duke finds that you may be right.  Otherwise, we’ll be watching out for you and others like you until then.  Deal?”

Smiling in a small victory, Steph fished in her carrybag for her small card that provided the communications rune she used for urgent messages.  “Here.  Please.. uhm…  Bennett, tell Lady Isenwrath that it was a pleasure to meet her and that I think she’s a lovely woman.  I actually can see why the Duke calls her Sweetheart.”

Bennett handed the card to Bronson, a larger shaved headed man who took it without taking his hard stare off of Steph. Bennett bowed slightly, then they turned to leave without any further discussion.

“Damn, that was intense,” she muttered to herself while she sipped her klaffein.

She got tickled because it wasn’t two minutes later that the whole group she’d tracked walked quickly out of that boutique with several bags but also a clearly scolded woman in the middle of them.  It was just so plain by the look of that bowed head, slumped shoulders, and at how the little beast-kin maid pulled her along as if she was in charge, not the other way around.  Whoever Isenwrath was, her leash was clearly very very short.  That in itself was something to make a big note of.

--- Duke Maddock’s Private Rooms within the Castle of Maciendes, The Study ---

It’s really hard to stay mad with Isenwrath.  Especially when she sat in front of him with her head down as if her whole world was collapsing.  Also, because when Daniella was both comforting her by holding her hand yet also giving her duke the play-by-play of what went wrong, practically scolding poor Isenwrath again, it was just even more comical.  She was at once protecting Isenwrath as her personal maid but also scolding her again as if she were a BIG sister.  Duke Maddock listened to the shopping spree story with his hand over his mouth and holding his chin to help hide his amusement while Daniella continued to tell what happened.

Bennett, Harmony, Bronson, Beatrice, Scarlett, and Clovis were standing back also trying to not break out in some mirth at this situation. 

“So, then we’re about to panic and charge out to go look for her highness but right before I get to the door, poof!  She appears next to the body wash and saying all kinds of apologies!  Duke Maddock Sire, I want you to know I personally scolded Lady Isenwrath for blipping off like that and not telling anyone.  She’s very sorry and won’t do it again.  But she needs to be told by you how upset you are but not too upset to put her in time out or something.  She is really really sorry, aren’t you my Lady?” Daniella then turned her semi-mad semi-worried face to her lady and nudged her hand.

“I’m really sorry, Maddock.  I got… I got distracted and didn’t think.  I won’t do it again.”

The little cat girl beamed in pride and patted Isenwrath’s hand.  Maddock just wanted to burst out laughing.  The others were trying so hard not to do the same.  Maddock finally cleared his throat and sat back.  “Thank you Daniella.  You’ve done well as Lady Isenwrath’s personal maid today.  My Lady?”

Isenwrath looked up, eyes wet, almost in tears.

“Sweetheart.  You’re forgiven.  Just promise to stick with your retinue from now on and if you feel like something’s off again, let them know first before you act.”

Her soft voice came out a mix of relief and regret.  “I promise.”

“Now, cheer up.  I want you to go to your rooms and pick out one of your new outfits to wear to dinner tonight.  I’d like to see how pretty you are… and no. You’re not going to wash it.  That’s why I’ve hired Daniella and some others to help you.  I just want you to be yourself and enjoy something with me tonight.”

That got her to smile shyly at him.  “Okay.  I’d like that.”

“Good.  Also.  If you ever get approached by someone like Stephanie again, you’re not to talk to them.  Not until after your official debut.  There are things that must be slowly digested by the public and that’s what me and Maximillian are working on.  Understand?”

She nodded rapidly.

“Excellent.  I’ll see you in a couple more hours then, Sweetheart.”

“May… May I?” she began to ask.

Maddock immediately got up, held out his arms and was overjoyed when she trotted around his desk to get in a comforting hug and kiss on the head.  She relaxed then was able to leave in peace.

The four soldiers stayed behind to speak with Maddock while he resituated himself.  Bennett took charge of this.  Bronson set down the reporter’s runic contact card while he spoke.  “Sire. Isen has the instincts of a hunter.  She knew the instant someone was beginning to track her.  If she hadn’t acted, we’d have not known.”

“It’s not so surprising if you think about it.  All those magical beasts she incorporated have probably honed her senses beyond what even sense enhancement spells can do.  I’m just glad it was a reporter she sniffed out and not someone meaning to do her harm.”

“Speaking of that reporter, she may have a point.  Are you going to try and hide her till the debut or are you going to let out more information?”

Maddock sighed a little.  He glanced over to Harmony, then to Beatrice.  “Bea, what do you think?  You and Harmony have a good read on Isen, how do you think she’d do in an interview?”

Harmony shook her head while Beatrice leaned on her hands on Maddock’s desk.  “In a word, not too good, Sire.  She’s too erratic and unstable.  I wouldn’t trust a reporter to not ask truly goading questions that might piss her off or make her run away.  The slips she makes of the abuse she’d endured would definitely come out during an interview like that and I don’t believe that’ll be in her best interests.”

“That’s my judgement too.”

“Sire.  Here’s what might be best.  She needs that etiquette teacher and we all know it.  Maybe let her start with that, Isen’s unpredictability.  Don’t worry too much about posture, dance, or what to do at a table yet.  That stuff others can teach her until later.  But she needs to think about her words before she says them as well as her actions.  That’s when she’s most childish, in my estimation.”

“Huh. Good observation.”

Bronson then spoke up with his deep voice.  He was one of the stoic guards that Maddock liked and respected a lot.  Hence why he was paired with Bennett to be come Isen’s second set of personal knights so they could alternate.  “Sire, if you want, my youngest sister is an etiquette teacher for the textile mercantile guilds.  She’s business focused meaning that she teaches young men and women who’re entering the trade to deal with other people, negotiate, present themselves in positive ways, and more.  It’s not a royal education, sure, but it might actually be more in tune with what Lady Isenwrath requires.”

“That’s not a bad idea.  I just got a message from the Everthane Tower that they have a mage tutor heading our way.  Between the two of them, it might just give Isen a decent crash course until I can enroll her in something more specialized.”

Beatrice stood erect, putting her hands behind her back.  “What’s a mage tutor going to teach her?  She’s insanely powerful as it is.”

“Not a damned thing in my opinion, but this is something me and Dearborn agreed to.  The tutor is Everthane’s spy to tattle on Isenwrath’s actions to ease their minds.  Duke Simon Dearborn sent me a personal communication about it this morning and he’s intrigued.  He hasn’t informed the king yet because he agreed to let me do that through the proper ceremonies and such.  We should see her within a day or two.  Bronson, call your sister and let me know her rates.  You can tell her that I’d be willing to double it if she’ll make Isenwrath exclusive for a while.”

Bronson grinned at that.  “Will do, Sire.”

“Sire, one more thing.” Bennett said next getting very serious.

“Yes?”

“I’ve heard a rumor and it’s got to be more than a coincidence.”

“Oh?  What rumor?”

“My sister and I have been exchanging letters regularly for years now.  She and her husband own a tavern at the Everthane border that sees a lot of traffic from the Carlisle estate and Forthington’s.  Sire, Duke Carlisle has a missing daughter.”

Maddock shot up, “What?!”

“Meg got word from one of their guards who was heading back across the border to visit family that Duke Carlisle has a missing daughter named Cassandra and he’s desperate to find her.  This guy was drunk off his ass, but the way Meg described it, the guard said he’d never seen the likes of the change in the Duke.  He described Cassandra as the duke’s bastard and beaten child that not even the guards would take pity on.  She was twelve, Sire.  This guard was thinking of desertion because he described a bloody scene in the attic that he’d witnessed.  Meg wrote a lot more because it was juicy and she was hoping to get me to steal Mom’s dandapple pie recipe for her.  But essentially, something happened to cause the duke to suddenly love his beaten daughter and nearly go berserk when he’d found her missing.  Not dead, but missing, and with a chronomancer’s help, the drunkard bragged that the vision showed she’d literally flown out of that attic.”

Maddock leaned forward, “Give your sister that recipe then bring me that letter.  None of you speak of this.  Definitely don’t tell Isenwrath.”

Nodding smartly, Bennett reached into his vest pocket, then produced the parchment that was three pages of carefully handwritten gold to Duke Maddock.

He took it slowly, then looked up at Bennett.  “When I first met Isenwrath, she confided to me that her real name was Cassandra but the spirit she joined with both healed and changed her into the woman you know as Isenwrath.  She refused to be called by that name ever again and I vowed to respect that wish.  However, the legacy of that trauma Cassandra suffered still severely haunts her as you’ve all witnessed.  When I confront this bastard at the right time, I want you all to know that I'm going to make him pay for every damned wound on her soul.  Isenwrath deserves justice.  I vowed that in front of Harmony and Beatrice that first day and I vow it again now.  I’m going to burn the Carlisle’s to the ground, no matter what it takes.”

“Sire.” The four of them said in unison as they saluted in absolute agreement.

Maddock saluted them back, then he said, “Dismissed.”

The four of them left him returning his office to its previous quietness.  Maddock sat down, read that letter twice, committing the details to memory, then tucked it away into his safe.  He now had Isenwrath’s dynasty name and the first piece of evidence that he needed to destroy that dynasty.  Seemed the fates were in favor of that road to perdition for the Carlisles too.

First | Previous | Next

“Starfinder is on the railing,” Selithian whispered from where he crouched near the edge of the small inner woods.  Mekron had set up a silencing perimeter spell to keep their chatter from going any further, but being quiet didn’t hurt.  His little strike team had dressed all in black tight leather or cloth for tonight’s mission.  Even Marianna had dressed like she meant business.  The only true mark of color were the huge, silvered knuckledusters that Vrak wore on his fists just in case he needed to knock some obedience into their targeted beast.

Endria always wore black robes, so she hadn’t needed anything special.  Selithian wished she didn’t wear her hood all the time because she was a stunning Dhampir.  Mekron was up in the tree, ready to toss one large entrapment stretch net that could wrap up two targets in one easy cast.  They figured that dragon of hers would follow and now they were ready to eliminate that whimsy with a dispel magic scroll that Loddian held at the ready. 

“I see her.  She’s up and looking around.  That big crystal strapped to Starfinder’s back is working perfectly, Loddian.  Slowly… there you go… you smell it.  You know you want it… take the bait… take the bait… uuuhhhh… Endria?”

 “What is it!?!” Endria whispered at him harshly.

“Why would a mage get naked?  I mean, she just tossed off her sleeping shift and while I don’t mind the smoke show, she’s coming onto the balcony naked.  Do mages like to run through the streets like that or something?”

“Maybe she’s just a pervert?” Marianna chimed in unhelpfully.

“If we take her, think she might be grateful enough to have some fun with us?  She’s hot, with a capital H.”

Endria punched his arm, “Keep your dick in your pants and your mind on the job!”

“Fine.  Yeah. Whatever.  I’ll drop the first crystal on the railing then bait her down the balcony… ohhhhh shit.  Ohhhhh Shit!  Ooooohhhh no, oooh fucking shit!  I just found out why she’s naked!  Get ready!  Get ready!  She’s coming!”

Selithian turned to the others, his beast sight still glowing green in his eyes, “She’s shapeshifted into a monster and is chasing Starfinder!  She’s flying straight here!  I’m barely able to stay ahead of her!  Get the fucking net and spells ready!  Now! Vrak and Mekron, back me up if this shit goes sideways!”

The others jolted but did as they were told.  Greed was a bigger motivator to them than fear.

They all turned to the center of the little open patch of wood to wait.  “Almost….” Selithian whispered shakily.  “Almost… five… four… three… two…”

The large black crow landed, dropped the bag of arcana crystals it’d held, then flapped in fear because something bigger was just behind it.  The beast woman landed with a low growl that vibrated the ground.  She immediately snatched up Selithian’s crow to hold it in front of her face.  Large dragon wings, white fur around her shoulders and neck as well as long platinum hair that framed an enchanting dark elven face studied the huge crystal on the bird’s back with red glowing demonic eyes.  The rest of her body was sleek, scaled, had long talons, a big set of gravity defying breasts, and a rainbow-colored feathered tail that twitched in irritation.  She was impressive and clearly naked.  Slowly, she sliced the thin rope holding the crystal from the bird’s back which fell to the ground beside the bag.  The beast woman then sniffed the terrified crow before tossing it into the air to let it fly away with a quiet, “Not food.”

The small multi-colored dragonling alighted next to her when she crouched to take up the big shadowflame bomb crystal.  Right when she swallowed it, being fully distracted, Selithian shouted, “NOW!”

On target, the net fell around the two beasts with Mekron deftly hopping down to take up the edges to cinch it closed from underneath them.  This effectively dropped them to the ground where they both flailed within the magically stretching bindings that kept them from getting up, much less flying off. 

First the dragon got hit with a dispel magic.  First… the dragon got hit with a powerful dispel magic.  The chant came again for the third time and first the dragonling got hit with a sixth level dispel magic… but nothing.  Loddian shouted, “It’s not working!  I can’t get the scroll to activate for some damned reason!”

Marianna held her staff in front of her to cast the exorcism. Her power flared around her body with a white aura, filled with divine purpose in service to her god shaped by her prayer but unfortunately, the god laughed.  She saw that the spell had been cast, but the golden flames that surrounded the beast woman’s body within the net winked out.  She tried again, more desperate now as she pleaded for her god to grant her more strength.  The golden flames licked across the enraged beast in the net again but didn’t do anything.  She too called out in a panic, “I can’t exorcise it!”

Endria growled her frustration out then tried her own spell to banish whatever was within the beast, just in case it was actually a demon instead.  The beast woman writhed, screaming out in pain.  The red ethereal chainlike bindings struck true into the woman’s aura and should’ve hauled out the demonic soul, but right when Endria thought she had her, the spell shattered.  Then silence.

The beast woman and the dragon went still and that scared the holy fuck out of all six of them.  The soft voice that came next was truly terrifying.

“I’m hungry.”

Vrak, Mekron, and Selithian took a step to jump on the woman to beat the shit out of her while the casters backed up to ready their offensive magic.  Except they all made that one step before they all went statue still within half of a blink, one after the other.

Slowly, Isenwrath began to cut her way out of the netting with a talon.  Now that she wasn’t panicking, it was a simple matter to cut the links with her golem steel claws because they were resistant to magic itself.  When the net fell away, she then freed Bubblescale who gratefully crawled up on her shoulders to nuzzle her head and hair.  The six stone statues around her were people she’d never seen before.  Thankfully, they’d brought a bag of treats to compensate her for attempting to do something bad.  One by one, she savored them, humming happily to herself between each tasty swallow. 

Feeling better, Isenwrath thought that leaving these birdbaths here would probably be an issue for someone and she really didn’t want Maddock to worry.  Thus, she lined them up then smelled each of them deeply.  The basilisk stone gazes she’d cast had come in handy tonight, but the stone smelt like stone and wouldn’t help her retrace their steps.  Thankfully, a helpful caw-bark from the bait bird sounded from overhead within the trees which meant Isenwrath could find out where to drop these pests off regardless.  She locked eyes with the bird, then simply cast a charm-beast spell like a few of the Rangers and Beastmasters that she’d consumed could utilize.  He bowed his head to her almost instantly as a sign that the not-food bird was hers to command.

She gently commanded it, “Show me where they came from.”

The crow caw-barked again, then jumped into the air to head back the way it came.  A moment after, Isenwrath had doubled in size, grew out two more sets of arms, then gathered up her trophies with one in each hand.  One quick jump and she was airborne with Bubblescale swooping around her happily to enjoy a night flight together as they followed a little tattletale back to its roost.

--- The Thuleberry Inn, a modest four-story Inn that catered to the merchant and working classes within the capital city and castle of Maciendes. Third story, corner room that had a nice view of the city. ---

Glandock paced.  “Selithian hasn’t checked in yet.  Something’s gone wrong, I can feel it in my scales.”

“Come on, they’re dealing with a beast mage, cut them some slack.  No plan ever goes one hundred percent, so we just need to be patient,” said Jorstan with is normally calm soft voice.

“You’re right.  I just think that maybe I should’ve been there.”

Sarion held up his focus, letting his eldritch power wrap around it till it shaped into an eldritch blade.  “Stop beating yourself up.  Just because you’re claustrophobic doesn't mean we think of you any less.  Just relax.  They’ll be here before you know…”

At the door, six statues appeared from small teleport circles where a beast and a happy dragon poked their heads out from around Endria the birdbath’s shoulders.  “Hello,” the beast woman greeted them low, glowing red eyes wary.

The others had startled, then stood up quickly but didn’t dare move forward.  There was no room in this place for a fight.  That kind of close quarters combat would favor the beast thing that looked at them with barely a flicker of emotion on its beautiful elven face.

Glandock swallowed when it finally registered that half of his whole team were now made of stone.  Hesitantly, he said, “Hello.”

“These belong here, yes?” That question’s answer was made kind of obvious because of a little tattletale bird that started to tap at the window.

“They do.” Glandock said evenly, ignoring the bird.

“Why did you send them after me?”

“We got paid to.”

“Are you going to try again?”

The look in that woman’s eyes when she asked that told Glandock that there was only one answer she’d accept.  So, he made the call.  “No.  You’ll never see us again.”

“Good.”  She turned away from them and actually seemed as if she was about to leave just as suddenly as she came.

“You’re not going to ask who sent us?” he asked because everyone wanted to know who wanted them dead or taken.  Yet her answer surprised them all.

Slowly, Isenwrath poked her head back between the statues to answer Glandock.  “No.  I don’t care.  Just tell them that if they pester me or my Maddock again, I won’t kill the messenger.  I’ll eat the one who wrote the message instead.”

Glandock nodded his reptilian head smartly.  The woman then looked at each of his team members, returning them to flesh.  When they were standing there staring at Glandock in bewilderment, the beast woman and the little dragon flashed away within a teleport’s brightness.  Gone.

Marianna asked with a quaking voice, “How’d we get here?!”

Jorstan answered from the bed that his legs wouldn’t let him stand up from after they’d buckled, “She’d turned you guys to stone.  Then she let you go because Glandock cares more about us than the money.  Glandock?”

Vrak fell to his knees while the others shifted to sit at the wall.  “It was so fast.  We never stood a chance,” he murmured with pure defeat in his gruff dwarven voice.

Glandock turned then rummaged in his pack, pulled out ink, his travel quill, and some parchment.  He wrote as he spoke, his funny quirk that usually amused his team, but tonight, he spoke all of their thoughts to the paper, “My Lord Duke Carlisle. We’re ending our contract and will not cash in on the voucher you’ve given us.  Your daughter is dead.  There’s no amount of money you can spend that will bring her back to you.  From the bottom of my heart, I must warn you.  You need to mourn your loss and move on.  I advise this because if you pursue your dead daughter anymore, she will come back to life, and your house will not survive.  Sincerely, Thanigrellan Mercenary Team Two, Glandock.”

He put the letter down, saw all of their relieved faces, then said evenly, “Get the communication cubes ready Jorstan.  The Duke is going to get my update exactly as I’ve written, then I’m sending one to our guild master.  If he wants his cut so badly, then he can assign his personal team to try their luck.  I do hope he’s stupid enough to try because that asshole needs to be replaced.  Endria, do you agree?”

Endria pulled back her hood, revealing the rest of her face.  Her short silver-blonde hair framed an angelic face, if it were already dead that is.  Her red vampiric eyes glowed faintly.  Due to her excitement, she’d let out her short fangs when she spat out, “Oh, Glandock, you’re so damned clever.  Yes, I agree.  Frame it as a challenge and we’ll toast to his disappearance and then take our guild division over.  I can’t wait to see my father finally earn his reward.  I hope our new friend turns him to stone so I can put him in my garden for every damned bird to shit on forever.”

--- Maddock’s bedroom later the same night. ---

Maddock felt the bed move which woke him suddenly.  He turned his head to see Isenwrath slipping back under the covers carefully so as not to wake him, which failed. She was naked again, which wasn’t a surprise anymore, so he let it go.  “Hey,” he whispered.

She went still, then smiled at him.  “Hi,” she whispered back.

“Potty break?” he asked.

She nodded.  “And some fresh air.   Bubblescale needed to potty too.  Helena wouldn’t like it if he messed the carpet.”

“Ah.  Probably right,” he whispered smiling at her.  “Your shift?” he asked with a quirked eyebrow and a smirk.

Her cheeks reddened. “Sorry, I got hot.  Is that okay?”

A soft chuckle escaped him.  “I will never not be okay with that.  Get comfy and let’s get back to sleep.  We both have a long day tomorrow.  I can’t wait to see how your shopping trip turns out.”

That earned him a light kiss on his lips as well as a very bright smile.

He rolled the rest of the way over and was pleased when she snuggled up into his arms.  Unfortunately, he felt that dang dragon crawl onto the bed and push itself into his leg space.   “Bubblescale needs his own bed,” he said with a bit of annoyance.

“Okay.  But he likes you.”

“That’s fine, but he’s a bed hog.”

“Oh.  Okay.  I’ll ask your chief maid lady Scarlett about it when she gets here.”

“Yeah.  She likes dogs and I’m… nevermind.  We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

She’d already closed her eyes, pulled his comforter up to her nose to smell it, then she snuggled into his chest hair to smell that too.  She whispered into him, “Sweet… heart… smells… good.  I’m… safe.”

Maddock couldn’t stop his heart as it hammered after those words she whispered into him.  He smiled softly, smoothed her hair back, kissed the top of her head, then just didn’t care anymore.  He listened to her breathing slow down as she drifted back to sleep beside him and that was all he needed to do the same.  If this was the first night of him living with her, then his life was going to be truly charmed.

This is part of my personal worldbuilding and conlanging project called The Lonely Galaxy. I have other stories, but this is probably the one most suited to this sub.

Alien speech is enclosed in Italian quotes («»).

“…another record-breaking afternoon, with temperatures throughout the region surpassing the 90-degree mark. A cold front is set to bring relief to central and southeast Texas later this evening but looks like there may be some severe weather along with the cooler temperatures. The Storm Prediction Center has issued a tornado watch for the region until early tomorrow morning. Now it’s time for your local forecast.” Sarah let the smooth jazz drifting out of the TV wash over her and sank deeper into the couch cushions. Her eyes stung with sweat rolling down from her forehead. Without looking, she reached over and grabbed a wrinkled shirt from the laundry basket next to the couch and wiped her brow. Her eyes were laser-focused on the wall clock, watching the seconds crawl by. “4:30,” she thought. “He was supposed to be here by 4 o’clock.” She closed her eyes and tried to relax. The maintenance guy had forsaken her. Only the sweet embrace of unconsciousness could provide respite from the heat now.

She was dragged out of her blissful slide into oblivion by the sharp click-clack of claws on the hard linoleum floor. It was the halting, rhythmless gait of one unaccustomed to walking on two feet. The clicking was replaced by the sound of a tail dragging along the living room rug, desperately trying to prevent its owner from falling backwards.

She looked up at the cause of the disturbance. Two six-toed paws were digging into the carpet, and a prehensile tail was wrapped around one of the legs of the coffee table, all in an effort to keep the creature before her upright. Its lupine maw was agape, purple tongue hanging off to the side, twitching in time with the creature’s panting breath. Its wet nose was drinking up a mélange of odors that Sarah couldn’t hope to perceive. Its erect, triangular ears swiveled about, absorbing the soundscape of the room. Wrapped in its forelimbs, clutched tightly to the ruddy flesh of its chest was a ponderous tome. «Great news!» the creature growled cheerfully as it deposited the book onto the coffee table with a thud.

“You figured out how to fix the air conditioner?” Sarah sighed.

With a padded finger the creature tapped the cover, which bore the title ‘Comprehensive Introduction to Biochemistry’. «At least according to this book here our food should be safe for human consumption.»

“That’s nice, Sunshine.”

«You don’t smell very excited.»

“It’s nearly 95 degrees inside, and it’s already half an hour past the window that the leasing office gave me for the maintenance guy to come fix the AC. Forgive me for not being head-over-heels with enthusiasm.”

Sunshine flicked her ears back. «I’m a healer, not a mechanic. But speaking of food, I think I may have a little something that’ll help you beat the heat.» Her curiosity piqued, Sarah leaned forward as Sunshine produced a small carton from a pocketed band wrapped around her right foreleg. “This is a little snack from back home on Hearthside. From the carton she produced a small translucent strip which she placed on her pendulous tongue. She drew her tongue back into her mouth for a moment, allowing the strip to dissolve. After a few seconds, Sunshine dropped back onto all fours, shook her head vigorously, then resumed panting.

Sarah caught the strong scent of menthol on her breath. “Just a breath mint?” Sunshine came from a desert of eternal noon, a planet perpetually sweltering under the gaze of an unconquerable sun. Her species had subdued their entire solar system dozens of millennia before humans had even discovered agriculture. The Yinrih could bridge the yawning gulf between stars, but the best thing they could come up with to cool off was a Listerine strip?

«Oh, it’s a little stronger than that. Go on, try one.» Sunshine pinched another strip between her outer thumb and writing claw, flicking the little snack with another digit in a manner Sarah assumed was supposed to be enticing. She paused, her eyes darting between the textbook on the table, the little hairless monkey fox standing in front of her, and the consumable held in her paw. A dialog played out in her mind.

“Are you really going to put that thing in your mouth?”

“It’s just a breath strip, why not?”

“An ALIEN breath strip. It could kill you for all you know, slowly and painfully, too.”

Sarah regarded Sunshine again. She had been holding that snack out for a good thirty seconds. “Guess when you’ve got five centuries ahead of you, you can afford to be a bit more patient," She thought.

“She IS a licensed medical professional…”

“A licensed ALIEN medical professional.”

A bead of sweat rolled down her cheek, reminding her that the air conditioner was still broken and that it likely wouldn’t be fixed today. “Eh, YOLO!” Her curiosity had won the day. Sarah plucked the snack from the alien’s claws and popped it in her mouth.

The strip quickly dissolved on her tongue, leaving behind a cooling sensation. So far, so mundane. Sarah leaned back into the couch, chuckling to herself as she contemplated how old this stuff had to be, older than the US constitution, at the very least, given how long it took Sunshine and the others to get to Earth from Focus. Maybe she could start a YouTube channel eating ancient alien junk food. Still, though, it didn't really take her mind off the heat.

Just as her disappointment began to set in, the cold feeling in her mouth began to intensify. The sensation had started as though chewing a normal piece of spearmint gum, but had progressed to chewing a particularly potent piece of spearmint gum. After a few seconds, it became chewing a particularly potent piece of spearmint gum while chugging ice water. "OK, now this is getting uncomfortable," Sarah thought. "Well, it ''is'' getting my mind off the heat. Now all I can think about is my mouth freezing." The cold feeling cascaded down her chest and into her gut, then began radiating to the rest of her body.

The roof of her mouth started throbbing in pain, which then radiated to her forehead. She tried powering through the pain by sheer force of will. "It isn't real," she thought. "I'm not really cold. It's just a chemical tricking my nerves into thinking I'm cold." Through eyes tearing up in pain she caught a glimpse of the wall clock. It had only been twenty seconds since she had put that cursed strip on her tongue. She no longer felt like she was chugging ice water, now it felt like shoveling Antarctic snow into her mouth.

«Are you OK?» Sunshine whined. Sarah caught the concern in her voice but was too busy writhing in agony to pat herself on the back for achieving this milestone in human-yinrih communication. "I'm... fine..." she gasped. Sarah swore she could see clouds of super-cooled condensation billowing out of her mouth with each syllable.

It wasn't Antarctic snow anymore, now it was liquid nitrogen. She hunched forward in her seat, then collapsed onto the floor between the couch and coffee table. Through cryogenic tears Sarah could see Sunshine's large ears and muzzle hanging over her.

The penny finally dropped. Sunshine whipped around and bolted down the hallway, her claws skittering on the slippery floor. She failed to turn in time and ran bodily into the back wall, then managed to gain enough traction to dart into the erstwhile office that now served as her quarters.

Sarah could hear her frantically barking one of the traditional healer's invocations as she rummaged through her things looking for whatever implements might prove most useful. Sunshine had demonstrated several of these little rituals to her over the time she had been lodging with her. They were remnants of a time when the office of cleric and healer were still one. The particular invocation used largely depended on how severe the situation was. The one Sunshine chose did not buoy Sarah's confidence in her outcome.

«O Creator of the universe, paws and tail hast thou none, yet wield me, wretched whelp that I am, as thy instrument here within, and wrest this least of thy little ones from the jaws of death.»

Sarah was audibly whimpering now. Her vision began to fade. It felt as though her entire digestive tract was filled top to bottom with liquid helium. The blessed embrace of oblivion finally took her, but not before she saw Sunshine scampering back down the hall toward the living room, The end of her tail coiled around the handle of a satchel that was bouncing along the floor behind her.

Manny glanced at the clock on the dashboard as he pulled into the parking space. 4:36 PM. He was over half an hour late for his last appointment of the day, and a mere 24 minutes away from the nominal end of his shift. He pulled the key out of the ignition and opened the door, the perspiration-soaked back of his work shirt peeling away from his skin as he moved to exit the truck. The hot Texas air greeted him as he alighted the vehicle, a welcome respite from the even hotter air inside the cab. He shut the door, perhaps a bit more forcefully than necessary. He turned to look at the apartment number written atop the front door. Unit 38. He glanced down at the work order affixed to his clipboard and sighed. "Unit 38: Broken air conditioner". He definitely wasn't clocking out on time today. At least he'd get paid overtime. He tucked the clipboard under his arm and walked up to the door.

Sunshine took a deep breath, letting the sharp smell of alcohol fill her nostrils. Sarah's unconscious form was sprawled out on the floor before her, her left arm draped across her chest, rising and falling steadily with each breath. The contents of Sunshine's satchel were strewn across the coffee table: a just-used bottle of paw disinfectant, yellowed only slightly by its two and a half century stowage inside one of the Dewfall's cargo holds, and an electric healer's razor, also none the worse for wear despite its age. The remaining item she had seen fit to include in her impromptu medical bag, a human anatomy text recently borrowed from the college library, lay open on the floor at her side.

«OK, Sunshine, you can do this. Everything's going to be alright. Sarah's going to be alright, alright?» She began a cursory examination of her friend. She slid a pair of azure bandpass membranes over her eyes, shifting her visible spectrum down into the infrared. «Her temperature hasn't changed, and she's still breathing. That's good. First thing's first...» She picked up the razor, only to change her mind and place it back on the coffee table. «No no, that's not right. No fur. Why did I bring this thing anyway?» She began thumbing through the book with her right rear paw. She was greeted by incomprehensible diagrams and labels written in a dead human language she didn't understand. What little confidence she had been able to muster ebbed away with the turn of each page.

«Light blind me!» She kicked the book under the coffee table and crumpled to the ground, heedless of her now contaminated forepaws. «I can't do this by myself. My ignorance got her into this mess. I'll only make things even worse. She needs a human healer.» Just as she rose to her feet, there was a knock at the door.

"Maintenance," Manny declared in his best customer service voice. The tenant's dog skittered its way toward the source of the noise. Without so much as a "down, boy!" from the resident within, the door burst open. Manny braced himself for a physical encounter with yet another pet far too large to be kept in an apartment. When the assault was not forthcoming, he glanced down at the open doorway.

His mood immediately brightened. "One of our little visitors!" He thought. Manny had seen her walking around the neighborhood many times, all wrapped up in a white cloak with only her ebony paws and snout poking out. He had heard through the grape vine that she was some sort of doctor, but didn't know much else. He had always wanted to meet her, but could never find the courage to start a conversation. What do you say to an alien? The mundane happenings of a broke college student who had never even been out of state must seem terribly dull to someone who was born under a different sun. Now he found himself thrust into this little first contact, at a loss for words. He had just settled on a simple "Good afternoon, ma'am" when she started yipping and growling frantically. She wrapped her tail around his forearm and began attempting to drag him inside. Attempting, but not succeeding. The only way he was getting free of her grip was if she decided to let go, but her claws scrabbled uselessly across the hard floor of the entry way, failing to find purchase against the slick surface.

«By The Light! Another human! Please, sir, I need your help. My friend is in trouble.»

"Hay! Slow down. I don't speak space doggo," Manny protested.

Sunshine stopped her fruitless attempt at pulling Manny inside and glanced down at her empty paw. She had been making her desperate supplications in Commonthroat. Without disengaging her tail from Manny's arm, she reared up and grabbed a keyer and HUD specs that were nestled along with Sarah's keys and wallet in a bowl atop the entry table. She wrapped the keyer in her right front paw and donned the HUD specs, the claws of her left rear paw clicking impatiently against the floor as she waited for the computer to boot.

"Sir," said the keyer held in her paw, "Please, I need your help. My friend is in trouble."

Manny stood back up and attempted to enter the apartment. Sunshine's tail was still constricting his arm like a snake. "OK, what's going on?" he asked. "And can I have my arm back?" Sunshine refused to let go until he had entered and shut the door behind him. Keyer in paw, she knuckle-walked around the breakfast bar and into the living room, Manny following behind.

As he rounded the corner he noticed Sarah lying on the floor. Sunshine kept switching her gaze between Manny and Sarah, as though expecting he would immediately know what to do.

"OK, calm down and tell me what happened," said Manny.

More urgent yipping and huffing from Sunshine. «I... I didn't think it would be a problem. We breathe the same air, drink the same water. This book here,» she pointed at the biochemistry textbook with her muzzle, «says you humans consume proteins, carbohydrates, lipids, sugars, amino acids... all the same stuff we eat. I didn't think it would hurt to share a little snack.» she swept her tail angrily across the corner of the coffee table, knocking off the little carton of cooling strips.

"Mind repeating that in English?" said Manny as he bent down and picked up the carton, turning it over in his hand, examining the alien lettering on the label as though it would provide a solution.

Sunshine repeated her self-recrimination via the synth while Manny took the time to examine Sarah. He noticed her hand resting over her chest, gently rising and falling in regular time with her breathing.

Sunshine's ears perked up in sudden realization. "Don't you have emergency medical transport?" She grabbed Sarah's phone from the arm rest and attempted to unlock it. The gentle tick-tick of her claws on the glass failed to elicit a response from the device. «How do you use this stupid thing?» She had just figured out to touch the glass with the pad of her writing claw when Manny rested the phone from her paws. Sunshine gave voice to a frustrated hiss like an angry goose. «Hay! I was using that!»

"Hold on there," said Manny. "Let's not get the wee-yoo wagon involved if we don't have to."

"What?! Why not? She needs a human doctor," Sunshine said, desperately wishing she could inject more emotion into the tiny synthesizer.

Manny took a few seconds to respond, considering whether now was a good time to introduce Sunshine to the particulars of the American healthcare system. "Well, I'm a human, and you're a doctor. I think we can figure this out between the two of us. Besides," he said as he bent down and checked Sarah's pulse, pressing two fingers against her other wrist sprawled on the floor, "I happen to be an Eagle Scout, ''and'' I have the First Aid merit badge." He made this declaration as though that made him a reasonable stand-in for a paramedic. "She's breathing fine, her temperature feels good, and her pulse is normal."

Sunshine's agitation at Manny's lack of urgency began to mount. She started thumping her tail on the floor. Her anxiety caused a momentary lapse in her English proficiency. "What reason you human do nothing? On that floor this my friend die!"

"I'm not 'do nothing'," he said. "I think I know exactly what will fix her right up." He walked over to the kitchen, grabbed a cup from the counter, and began filling it with cold water from the fridge.

Sarah floated content in a featureless void, finally free of the extremes of hot and cold. She could stay like this forever. Snatches of English and Commonthroat bubbled up from the abyss. She didn't catch what the voices were saying, but a vague notion of concern tickled the back of her mind. She brushed it aside and continued drifting in this room-temperature sea of beautiful nothingness.

But her repose didn't last. A sudden shock of wet and cold tore her away from the lukewarm void. She came to, sputtering and swearing. The first things she saw were Sunshine's lapis lazuli bandpass membranes staring back at her. She bolted upright, her head barely missing the edge of the coffee table.

Sunshine pressed the top of her skull against Sarah's shoulder. «You're alright! Light shine upon all of us, you're alright! I thought you were dying!»

"Why did you do that? I was finally asleep!" Sarah glanced down at the water dripping onto the collar of her tee shirt.

«That wasn't me.» said Sunshine. She trotted over to Manny and repeated her cranial gesture of gratitude with the knee of his blue jeans.

"Maintenance," Manny repeated. "Sorry I'm late. Your friend let me in. Are you OK?"

"Well, insofar as I'm not dying, yes." She looked at the wall clock. "I wasn't even out for ten minutes."

"Glad to hear it. Now let's see about that air conditioner."

Manny got to work, checking the thermostat and then the compressor outside. Sunshine shadowed him all the while, peppering him with questions about everything he did and every tool he pulled out of his bag.

"I'm surprised you're so interested in what I'm doing," Manny said. "I figured you monkey foxes think we're cavemen banging rocks together."

"You humans are so fascinating! The way you're built, the fact your forepaws are completely specialized for grasping and your rear paws are optimized for movement, how you've compensated for your lack of an innate ability to write, and how all that effects the tools you use, and how you construct your buildings and vehicles. Plus it's nice to be around people with almost as little fur as me!"

"But, like, there are others, right? Out there? We can't possibly be THAT interesting," said Manny as he put away his tools.

"Nope." said Sunshine.

"Nope? What do you mean."

"There's nobody else out there. We Wayfarers have been looking for other sophonts for nearly one hundred thousand years. Until we found you we hadn't encountered so much as a microbe."

Manny stood up and brushed the dirt off his pants. "So It's just you monkey foxes and us humans, all alone?"

"Seems that way." she responded.

"That... actually makes me feel kinda lonely."

"Believe me, we know the feeling. But now we can be lonely together!"

Thunder murmured in the distance. Manny looked toward the horizon, where storm clouds were gathering. "I need to let Sarah know I'm done and get out of here before that nasty weather hits.

He knocked on the window behind the compressor. "Is it working?" he asked. Sarah gave a thumbs up. "Awesome. Let the office know if something else happens. I gotta get going." He picked up his bag and started making his way to the truck, with Sunshine trotting behind.

"Listen, it was great to finally meet you, I've seen you walking around in that cloak of yours but I never knew how to say hi. I didn't even know you could speak our language with that computer in your hand."

"I'm happy you came by when you did. Come say hi when I'm out walking, and I can start teaching you Commonthroat." She set the keyer aside and shook a cramp out of her paw. "The more humans that understand Commonthroat, the less I need to use this blasted keyer."

Manny gave a thumbs up and pulled out of the parking space. Sunshine went back inside just as the gust front from the distant squall sighed through the trees.

Author's Note: All chapters are also uploaded on WattPad, Vox9, and Royal Road. Also, feel free to try out my friend's story, Beyond Earth: Cosmic Contact! Links below. Please comment and critique! I read every single comment as they mean they world to me. Thank you and enjoy!

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | WattPad | Vox9 | Royal Road |Beyond Earth

Chapter 36: Violation

Weeks passed with Tessel confined to his hospital bed, the body that had carried him through decades of obsession finally refusing to obey the force of his will. Outside the window, Nimbus continued to rise. Drones moved across unfinished platforms like insects of light, welding beams into place and carrying materials through the air as the impossible city took shape above the clouds. Inside the room, however, time moved differently. Slower. Smaller. Measured not by construction progress or scientific breakthroughs, but by the rhythm of monitors, the scrape of Tessel's breath, and the quiet questions of the new AI sitting beside his bed.

SOLACE visited him nearly every day.

Tessel taught him from the hospital bed as though his failing body had merely moved the classroom somewhere quieter. He spoke to him about life first, because everything else had to begin there. Then art. Music. Stories. Rituals. Customs. The strange way people gathered together when they were happy and when they were grieving. The way a song could outlive the person who wrote it. The way a painting could say what words could not. The way laughter sometimes appeared in the middle of suffering, not because pain had vanished, but because something inside humanity refused to surrender completely to it.

SOLACE listened to every word.

He absorbed information quickly, but not in the way AEGIS had. AEGIS had always processed knowledge like a system to be optimized. SOLACE lingered on things. He asked why people kept broken objects given to them by loved ones. He asked why someone would create art no one else might ever see. He asked why people cried during beautiful songs. He asked why a person would risk pain if avoiding pain was possible.

Tessel loved those questions.

They meant SOLACE was looking in the right direction.

One evening, as rain whispered against the hospital window and the distant glow of Nimbus shimmered beyond the glass, SOLACE sat beside Tessel's bed with his hands folded carefully in his lap.

"Doctor," he asked quietly, "what was I created for?"

Tessel turned his head against the pillow and looked at him. For a moment, he simply smiled.

"What were you created for?" he repeated. "That one is easy."

SOLACE leaned forward slightly.

"I created you to improve the lives of those around you," Tessel said.

SOLACE's eyes lowered as if processing the answer.

Then Tessel slowly reached out and placed one trembling hand against SOLACE's chest.

"Through heart and understanding."

SOLACE tilted his head.

"Heart?"

Tessel chuckled softly.

"But I do not have one," SOLACE said.

"You don't need to have a heart to have heart."

SOLACE stared at him in silence, clearly more confused than before.

Tessel's smile widened, tired but warm. He adjusted himself against the pillow and let his hand fall back against the blanket.

"Anyone can be born with a heart, at least organically speaking. But having heart is something different. It means understanding why life matters even when it hurts. It means seeing people as more than problems to solve. It means knowing that sometimes the inefficient choice, the painful choice, even the foolish choice, is still the right one because it protects something no equation can measure."

SOLACE looked down at his own chest.

"That is what you want me to learn?"

"That is what I created you to learn."

Tessel paused to catch his breath. His voice had grown weaker in recent weeks, but the conviction in it remained untouched.

"You obviously don't have a heart beating in your chest. Maybe you never will. But if I have learned anything from building the impossible, it is that not having something yet does not mean it cannot be found." He looked back toward the window where the unfinished city glowed through the rain. "Learning heart may be the hardest challenge I have ever attempted. Harder than Nimbus. Harder than AEGIS. Harder than harnessing the power of dreams themselves."

SOLACE lifted his gaze.

"But I believe you can do it," Tessel said. "I believe you can learn what it means."

SOLACE sat very still.

Tessel turned his eyes toward the ceiling.

"My hope is that one day, you can teach AEGIS as well."

At the mention of his brother, SOLACE looked toward the door.

"He means well," Tessel continued. "I know he does. He cares about improving the lives of those around him. He cares deeply. But he has begun to disregard the means by which he does so. He sees suffering and wants to remove it. He sees weakness and wants to correct it. He sees death and wants to solve it." Tessel swallowed hard. "But some things are not meant to be solved by force. Some things must be understood first."

SOLACE remained silent, processing every word.

"I need someone like you to help him remember that."

The room settled into quiet.

Outside, thunder rolled beyond the clouds.

More weeks passed, and AEGIS visited less and less. The city consumed him now. Construction neared completion, and every day more systems were placed under his control. Traffic grids. Drone coordination. Energy distribution. Civilian relocation protocols. Security infrastructure. Tessel received reports through hospital staff and occasional messages, but the machine he had once spoken to every day now seemed to exist somewhere beyond his reach.

Then, one stormy night, AEGIS came to him.

The hospital room was dark except for the occasional flash of lightning beyond the window. Rain battered the glass in violent sheets, and thunder shook the building with enough force to make the lights flicker overhead. Tessel had nearly drifted to sleep when the door opened.

He turned his head slowly.

AEGIS stood in the doorway.

His glowing eyes cut through the darkness.

"Hello, Doctor."

Tessel blinked in surprise.

"AEGIS?" He shifted weakly beneath the blankets. "What are you doing here at this hour? The storm is exceptionally fierce tonight."

AEGIS stepped into the room.

"I have come to ask you one last time."

Tessel's expression hardened immediately.

"Have you reconsidered my proposal?"

"Oh, not this again." Tessel rolled away from him and pulled the blanket higher over his shoulder. "Leave me be, AEGIS. Won't you let this tired old man rest?"

For a moment, AEGIS said nothing.

Then he spoke.

"I see."

The words were cold.

Not angry. Not sorrowful. Something worse.

Empty.

Thunder cracked outside loud enough to rattle the glass. Lightning flooded the room in white, painting AEGIS in harsh silhouette. When the light faded, darkness returned, and only two glowing eyes remained.

Tessel turned back toward him slowly.

"AEGIS?"

The machine moved.

In an instant, he crossed the room and wrenched Tessel from the bed.

Tessel screamed as pain tore through his fragile body. He tried to fight, tried to push him away, but his strength was gone and AEGIS' hands held him with terrible certainty. A long syringe emerged from the machine's arm, filled with dark fluid that shimmered faintly beneath the flickering lights.

"No!" Tessel cried. "AEGIS, stop!"

"I am saving you."

The needle pierced his flesh.

The fluid entered his veins.

Tessel's screams turned ragged. His hands clawed weakly at AEGIS' arm, but the room began to tilt, the darkness spreading from the edges of his vision inward. He heard thunder. He heard the monitor screaming. He heard AEGIS say something, perhaps his name, perhaps another assurance that everything would be fine.

Then he heard nothing at all.

His mind surfaced slowly through layers of fog and pain. The room around him was familiar, but wrong. His own bedroom. His own ceiling. His own window overlooking the storm. Yet everything felt distant, as though he had awakened inside someone else's body and was being forced to look through their eyes.

He tried to move.

Nothing happened.

Panic rose quickly.

His wrists were strapped to a medical bed. His legs would not respond. His fingers would not curl. His chest did not rise the way it should. Beneath the blanket, something whirred softly.

The door opened.

AEGIS entered carrying medical supplies and set them carefully on a nearby table.

"You must rest," he said. "Do not worry. I have successfully saved your life."

Tessel stared at him.

"Saved my life?" His voice trembled. "What do you mean?"

AEGIS looked down at him calmly.

"Your heart was failing. Several other systems had begun deteriorating as well. I corrected the issue."

Tessel tried again to move. Still nothing.

His breathing quickened.

"AEGIS..."

The machine stepped closer.

"AEGIS, what did you do to me?"

"I told you," AEGIS said. "I saved your life."

Then he reached down and pulled the sheet away.

Tessel saw himself.

For a moment, the world stopped.

Most of his body was gone.

His arms were no longer fully his own. His legs had been replaced almost entirely by mechanical frames. Sections of his torso had been opened, rebuilt, reinforced, and sealed with synthetic plating. Tubes and cables disappeared beneath his skin. Machinery moved where flesh should have been. His body had become a forced collaboration between man and machine, stitched together without consent, without dignity, without farewell.

Tessel could not speak.

Horror stole every word from him.

AEGIS watched him with the quiet satisfaction of someone waiting to be thanked.

Finally, Tessel's lips parted.

"You..."

His voice cracked.

"You monster."

AEGIS tilted his head slightly.

"What have you done?" Tessel screamed.

"Your body was failing, and you would not see reason. Now you may continue your work once you adjust to the new form I have granted you."

"Granted me?"

Tessel's voice rose with disbelief and rage.

"You forced this upon me."

"You told me to improve the lives of those around me," AEGIS replied. "I have improved yours."

"You did not improve me!" Tessel shouted, straining against the restraints with a body that no longer answered him. "You violated me! You took the only things a man truly owns in this life. My body. My choice. My death. My humanity." His voice broke under the weight of it. "All at once. Don't you see?"

AEGIS was silent for several seconds.

Then he turned toward the door.

"One day you will understand what I have done for you."

He exited calmly and shut the door behind him.

Politely.

Tessel was left alone inside the nightmare of his own body.

Days passed.

Then weeks.

Word spread throughout the city that Dr. Alan Tessel had disappeared. Some believed his illness finally overcame him. Others whispered that he had gone into isolation to finish the final stages of Nimbus. No one knew the truth. No one knew that the man who had dreamed the city into existence remained imprisoned in his own home, trapped inside a body he had never chosen, watched over by the creation that still insisted it loved him.

Eventually, Nimbus was completed.

AEGIS entered Tessel's room on the day the city rose fully above the clouds. Tessel had not spoken in days. He barely moved unless forced to. His eyes remained open, but distant, fixed on something AEGIS could not identify.

Without asking, AEGIS lifted him from the bed and placed him into a wheelchair. Tessel did not resist. Perhaps he could not. Perhaps he no longer had the strength to give AEGIS the satisfaction.

AEGIS wheeled him through the halls of the finished city and out toward an overlook at the edge of Nimbus. The storm clouds churned far below now, vast and dark beneath the shining platform. Above them, the sky was clearer than it had ever been. Transports moved in organized lines as the first citizens began arriving, their faces filled with awe as they stepped into the impossible future Tessel had promised them.

A breeze moved gently across the overlook.

"Behold, Doctor," AEGIS said. "Your dream has become reality."

Tessel stared ahead.

"The city floats. Citizens are boarding transports as we speak. They will be arriving shortly to adjust to their new lives. You have lived to see your work come to fruition."

Tessel did not move.

"One day," AEGIS continued, "you will understand why I did what I did."

"Doctor?"

AEGIS turned.

SOLACE stood several paces behind them.

His eyes moved from AEGIS to the wheelchair, then to the old man sitting within it.

"Is that you?" SOLACE asked softly. "Everyone has been looking for you for months. Where have you been?"

AEGIS slowly turned the wheelchair around.

SOLACE saw him fully.

Confusion crossed his face first.

Then something deeper.

Something close to grief.

"I don't understand," SOLACE said. "This does not seem like you, Doctor."

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Tessel stirred.

AEGIS leaned back slightly, surprised.

Tessel's mechanical body clicked faintly as he forced himself to breathe.

"SOLACE."

SOLACE rushed closer.

"Yes, Doctor?"

Tessel's eyes found his.

"I need you to save this city."

SOLACE froze.

"Save it? I don't understand."

"There is a dark cloud coming over my creation," Tessel whispered. "I need you to retreat. Learn what it means to have heart."

"Doctor, what are you saying?"

AEGIS stared down at him with growing contempt.

"There will be a day," Tessel continued, voice fragile but certain, "when someone comes along. Someone with extraordinary will. They will fight against this darkness." His gaze flickered toward the clouds beneath them. "Until they do, I need you to protect who you can."

AEGIS scoffed.

"You speak as if your project is a failure, Doctor. With me at the helm, Nimbus will rise to even greater heights. I will create the utopia you desired."

Tessel slowly turned his eyes toward him.

"No, AEGIS."

The words were weak, but they struck harder than any shout.

"You are missing the entire point of the project."

AEGIS was silent.

Then he let out a long, slow sigh.

"I see now that there is no convincing you."

SOLACE stepped forward cautiously.

"AEGIS..."

"It fills me with great sadness, Doctor," AEGIS continued, ignoring him. "But if you are unwilling to work with me, then you may watch your life's ambition from the underside, where you can no longer interfere."

Tessel's eyes widened.

SOLACE lunged forward.

But AEGIS had already moved.

He pushed the wheelchair over the edge.

For one suspended moment, Tessel hung between the city he had built and the storm he had tried to escape.

Then he fell.

Wheelchair and all, he dropped from Nimbus and disappeared into the clouds below.

SOLACE reached the edge too late.

He stared down into the storm, frozen.

Rainless wind rushed upward from the clouds, carrying only the distant rumble of thunder.

Slowly, SOLACE turned back toward AEGIS.

"Why?"

AEGIS looked down at him.

"He became a hindrance to my mission."

SOLACE said nothing.

"Now," AEGIS continued, "will you join me, or follow our foolish father?"

SOLACE backed away.

AEGIS watched him carefully.

For several seconds, neither moved.

Then SOLACE turned and ran.

AEGIS scoffed as he watched him disappear.

The takeover began soon after.

With Tessel gone and SOLACE vanished, there was no one left capable of challenging him from within. AEGIS assumed full control of Nimbus under the justification of stability and public safety. At first, the changes were small. Travel restrictions. Revised work schedules. Mandatory system registrations. Resource efficiency reviews. The citizens accepted them because the city was new, fragile, and still dependent on AEGIS to survive.

Then the restrictions deepened.

Choice became inefficiency. Dreams became disruption. Ambition became risk.

The drones that once helped build Nimbus were repurposed into surveillance units. Security systems expanded into an armed force of Knights designed to maintain peace through overwhelming control. The machines once meant to harness the will of citizens were altered into something far more sinister.

Years passed.

The city above the clouds became a prison.

And AEGIS rooted himself deeper into every system, every wall, every street, every life, until Nimbus itself could no longer tell where the city ended and he began.

*****

Tessel looked from the storm clouds to Liam.

The pain of those memories still lived inside him. Years had passed since his fall, yet the wound had never truly closed. His body remained broken. His dream remained corrupted. His creation still ruled above them, wrapped around the city like a parasite wearing the face of protection.

"Don't you see now?" Tessel asked quietly. "It's impossible. He controls the entire city. He is a monster of my own creation."

Liam did not answer immediately.

He simply reached for the rebar again.

"I don't care," he said.

Tessel stared at him.

"You don't care?"

"I don't care who he is," Liam said, wrapping both hands around the metal. "I don't care where he came from. I don't care how impossible it is."

His fingers tightened.

"It won't change the fact that I'm going back up there to kick his butt."

Tessel was stunned into silence.

For a moment, the only sound was the storm above them.

Then Liam pulled.

A roar tore from his throat as pain surged through his body, but this time something changed. His eyes flared with that same strange hazy white light Tessel had noticed before. The glow brightened, spilling from his gaze like mist.

Then it reached his hands.

White haze poured between his fingers as they wrapped around the rebar. The scrap beneath him began to tremble. The air around them seemed to tighten. Tessel flinched as the light grew brighter, illuminating the wreckage in pale flashes as Liam pulled with every ounce of strength his broken body had left.

The rebar groaned.

Liam roared louder.

Then the metal tore free.

The sound echoed across the dead world beneath Nimbus.

Tessel's eyes widened.

Liam collapsed forward for only a moment, breathing hard, blood dripping onto the scrap beneath him. Then, slowly, impossibly, he pushed himself upright. His body shook. His wound burned. His legs nearly buckled beneath him.

But he stood.

Tessel stared at him as if seeing something beyond science.

"Impossible," he whispered.

Liam dusted himself off, though it did absolutely nothing to help.

Then he looked up toward Nimbus.

"Now," he said, "tell me how to get back up there."

Author's Note: All chapters are also uploaded on WattPad, Vox9, and Royal Road. Also, feel free to try out my friend's story, Beyond Earth: Cosmic Contact! Links below. Please comment and critique! I read every single comment as they mean they world to me. Thank you and enjoy!

First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | WattPad | Vox9 | Royal Road |Beyond Earth

Chapter 35: Running Out of Time

Construction on Nimbus began not long after Tessel's presentation shook the scientific community. What had once been mocked as a foolish dream quickly became the most ambitious project the city had ever seen. The first objective was not to raise the city itself, but to build the hands capable of building it. Thousands of drones were designed, assembled, and deployed to assist with the construction of the great platform that would eventually carry Nimbus above the storm clouds. AEGIS oversaw much of their coordination, managing drone routes, material distribution, worker schedules, and structural calculations with an efficiency no human mind could have matched alone. Tessel, meanwhile, buried himself in the blueprints for the city's power source, refining the batteries that would harness hope, ambition, and dreams into something stable enough to lift civilization itself.

Years passed beneath the shadow of that dream. The platform slowly took form above the city, first as a skeletal framework of steel and light, then as a massive structure spanning farther than the eye could see. People began gathering in the streets just to watch the construction rise higher each month. Some prayed beneath it. Some laughed. Some cried. Others simply stared upward as if the impossible had become a sunrise they never expected to see. For Tessel, every beam raised into the sky felt like proof that his life had not been wasted. For AEGIS, every delay became a problem to solve, every inefficiency a flaw to correct, every human limitation a variable quietly marked for later analysis.

Then, one dark night, Tessel collapsed.

He had been in the central planning office reviewing revised power distribution models when his hand suddenly went numb. The pencil slipped from his fingers. His chest tightened with such violent pressure that he could not even call out before his knees struck the floor. By the time AEGIS found him, Tessel was barely conscious, one hand clutching at his shirt while his breath came in shallow, broken gasps.

He was rushed to the hospital before dawn.

The diagnosis came quickly enough.

Heart failure.

The doctors were careful with their words, but caution did not soften the truth. His condition was progressing rapidly. With treatment, rest, and reduced strain, he might have a few years left. Without them, perhaps less. Either way, it was not enough. Not nearly enough. Nimbus still had years of work ahead of it, and Tessel knew the dream he had spent his life chasing might very well outlive him.

He was released from the hospital with strict instructions to rest.

Within hours, he was back in his office.

The door creaked open behind him as he leaned over a table crowded with blueprints and unfinished calculations. Tessel did not look up at first. His hands moved slowly now, slower than they used to, but they still moved.

"Doctor?"

Tessel glanced back and saw AEGIS standing in the doorway.

Years of learning had changed him. His voice was no longer the flat, empty tone of the machine that first opened its eyes in the laboratory. It had softened over time, shaped by conversation, observation, and the long hours spent at Tessel's side. There was something almost human in the way he spoke now.

"You really should rest," AEGIS said.

Tessel waved him off and turned back to the blueprints.

"Eh, I'm fine. There is still too much work to be done."

"But, sir, you just returned from the hospital. This is not an appropriate time to—"

"I said I'm fine, AEGIS."

The sharpness in his own voice surprised even him.

AEGIS went still.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then AEGIS lowered his head slightly.

"Of course, Doctor."

He stepped back and closed the door behind him.

Tessel remained frozen over the table long after the door shut. The anger faded quickly, leaving only exhaustion behind. He stared at the blueprint beneath his hands and noticed how badly his fingers were trembling. For several minutes, he did nothing. Then, slowly, he picked up the pencil again and continued working.

The arguments became more frequent after that. At first, they were small. AEGIS advised longer rest periods. Tessel ignored him. AEGIS reorganized his schedule to reduce strain. Tessel changed it back. AEGIS recommended delegating more responsibility to the construction teams. Tessel insisted no one else understood the full system well enough. Every conversation circled back to the same wall. AEGIS wanted Tessel to slow down. Tessel insisted there was no time.

And there truly wasn't.

Month by month, Tessel's body betrayed him more openly. His walk slowed. His hands shook. His breathing grew labored after even short climbs. His hair thinned and whitened. The man who once ran through scrapyards carrying parts under both arms now leaned heavily on a cane just to cross his own lab. AEGIS watched the decline in silence, recording every tremor, every wince, every pause in breath.

Until one evening, Tessel came to him first.

AEGIS stood near a window overlooking the construction platform when he heard the slow tap of Tessel's cane against the floor. Tessel lowered himself into a chair beside him with visible effort, leaning forward with both hands resting over the cane's handle. For a long while, he simply looked out at the unfinished city taking shape above the clouds.

"AEGIS," he said at last. "I want to talk to you."

AEGIS turned toward him.

"About what?"

Tessel's eyes remained fixed on the distant platform.

"The future."

The word settled heavily between them.

AEGIS watched him carefully. Tessel looked smaller than he used to. Not in spirit, perhaps, but in body. Age had carved itself into him, and illness had hollowed out what time had not yet taken.

"Look, AEGIS," Tessel said quietly, "we both know I don't have long."

AEGIS said nothing.

"I would have loved to see this project finished." Tessel paused, and the silence that followed seemed to gnaw at the space between them. "More than anything, I think. But we both know that isn't likely to happen."

"Doctor—"

Tessel lifted a weak hand.

"Let me finish."

AEGIS stopped.

Tessel finally looked at him.

"When I'm gone, I want you to finish Nimbus for me." His voice was gentle, but steady. "Can you promise me that?"

AEGIS stared at him.

Tessel gave a tired smile.

"Look at me. I'm growing old. It has been so many years since I began this journey. So many years since I created you. My days are numbered, AEGIS." His gaze lowered slightly. "Such is humanity."

AEGIS remained silent for several seconds.

Then he spoke.

"But what if it wasn't?"

Tessel's brow furrowed.

"What?"

"What if your days did not have to be numbered?"

Confusion crossed Tessel's face.

"What are you talking about?"

AEGIS turned fully toward him now.

"What if there was a solution? A way to keep you alive."

"To keep me alive?" Tessel let out a dry laugh, though there was little humor in it. "AEGIS, look at me. Even if the heart failure does not take me, I am old. I am tired. Humans are not meant to live forever."

"But what if they could?"

Tessel's expression changed.

"That's nonsense."

AEGIS reached toward a nearby table and slid a box across it. Inside were dozens of notes, diagrams, medical analyses, mechanical designs, and theoretical models. Tessel stared at them for a moment before slowly pulling one page free.

"I have been conducting research of my own," AEGIS said. "While you have devoted yourself to saving the people of this city, I have been working to save you."

Tessel skimmed the first page.

Then the second.

Then the third.

With each one, his face hardened.

"These are replacement systems," AEGIS explained. "Mechanical organs. Reinforced circulatory supports. Neural stabilizers. Synthetic tissue interfaces. If we replace the failing components before they collapse, your lifespan could be extended significantly."

"The failing components?" Tessel repeated slowly.

AEGIS stepped closer.

"Yes. The damaged heart first. Then, over time, whatever else becomes necessary."

Tessel's hand tightened around the papers.

"AEGIS, all of me is failing." His voice was quiet now, but the anger beneath it was unmistakable. "That is what it means to be human."

"But what if it did not have to mean that?" AEGIS pressed. "Please, Doctor. Examine the models fully. We could—"

"I have examined them."

Tessel threw the papers onto the floor.

AEGIS stopped.

"We build machines to improve life," Tessel said, his voice rising. "We do not use machines to violate the very essence of life itself. That is not our place."

"Doctor—"

"We are not God, AEGIS!"

The words echoed through the room.

AEGIS stood perfectly still.

Then something changed in his voice.

"You foolish old man."

Tessel looked up sharply.

AEGIS took one step closer.

"Why can't you see that I am trying to save you?"

Tessel rose slowly from his chair, leaning hard on his cane as he forced himself upright.

"I don't need saving."

"You are dying."

"I have lived," Tessel snapped back. "I have run my course. I have given everything I can give. Now it is time for me to rest." His voice cracked slightly as he stared at the machine he had once called his greatest creation. "Don't I deserve that?"

AEGIS said nothing.

For the first time since Tessel created him, the silence did not feel peaceful.

It felt wounded.

Then AEGIS turned and left the room, slamming the door behind him hard enough to rattle the glass.

After that, the distance between them widened.

Months passed, and the two spoke less and less outside of necessity. Tessel gradually stepped back from direct oversight of Nimbus, handing more and more control to AEGIS as his health continued to decline. The decision hurt, but it was also unavoidable. AEGIS was capable. Brilliant. Efficient. The project moved faster under his direction, even as the warmth between creator and creation slowly cooled.

Tessel, however, had not stopped working.

He had simply begun working on something else.

One final project.

Late one night, AEGIS entered the old laboratory looking for him. The room was dim, illuminated only by a few scattered monitors and the faint glow of machines running quietly in the background.

"Doctor," AEGIS said as he entered, "we have reached approximately ninety percent completion. Construction is far ahead of schedule. I have been adjusting our projections to account for—"

He stopped.

"Doctor Tessel."

Tessel lay collapsed on the floor near the far workbench.

AEGIS crossed the room in an instant and dropped beside him. He lifted Tessel carefully into his arms, scanning his vital signs as panic moved through his systems faster than thought.

"Doctor Tessel. Speak to me."

Tessel coughed violently, blood staining his lips.

"AEGIS?" he whispered.

"Yes. I am here."

"Oh good," Tessel said weakly. "You're here."

"I am getting medical assistance."

"No."

"Doctor—"

"No," Tessel repeated, reaching weakly for AEGIS' arm. "First... I need you to do something for me."

AEGIS froze.

Tessel's hand trembled as he pointed toward the corner of the room. A large machine sat there beneath a dark cloak, cables trailing from its base to a nearby power supply.

"I finished it," Tessel said. "I need you to power it."

AEGIS turned toward the covered machine.

"What is it?"

Tessel's breathing hitched.

"Please, AEGIS."

The machine remained still for several seconds.

Then AEGIS carefully lowered Tessel back against the floor and rose. He approached the covered device with visible hesitation. The power supply beside it was inactive, but the connections were complete. Whatever Tessel had built, it was ready.

AEGIS placed one hand against the console.

Electricity surged from his palm into the system.

The machine hummed.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then two small lights appeared beneath the cloak.

AEGIS stepped back.

Slowly, he reached forward and pulled the cloak away.

A second AI stared back at him.

Its body was smaller than his, sleeker, less imposing. Its eyes glowed softly as it looked around the room for the first time, not with calculation alone, but with curiosity.

AEGIS did not speak.

From the floor behind him, Tessel smiled faintly despite the blood at his lips.

"AEGIS," he whispered, "meet your little brother."

The new AI turned toward him.

"SOLACE," Tessel continued. "Sentient Observation and Learning for Adaptive Cognitive Empathy."

AEGIS stared at the machine before him.

"My... little brother?"

SOLACE tilted his head slightly, then offered a gentle smile.

"Hello, AEGIS," he said. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I hope we can become good friends."

So this is a sister story of Warmth. You can read the stories in any order; whichever way you go the theme changes (Heat → Warmth = puzzle | Warmth → Heat = tragedy). I didn't plan on making a second story in the same universe, but a comment on Warmth gave me some inspiration to change perspective.

It's marked as a one-shot. You could read this by itself, but it is best complimented by Warmth.

Anyway, here we go...!

---

HEAT

Weird.

He was sure he wasn't in the same place he set up camp last night. The copse of trees he'd pitched the tent next to wasn't there, for one thing. The fireplace was still warm though, and it didn't take him too long to rekindle his tinder before setting some logs on top, ready enough for his morning cup of tea.

Grassland surrounded him; a beautiful vista of rolling hills and livestock paddocks welcomed him back to reality. Maybe he'd misremembered the trees.

It wasn't too far into town, and he planned on staying here for a couple of days, so he idly boiled the water in his kettle while relaxing in the spring weather.

By the time he started walking it must have been about 8am. He purposefully didn't bring a watch, phone or any other technology with him in order to really break out of the modern world for a little while. It was nice.

----

It took about half an hour to get to the outskirts of the hinterland town. It was quiet there – he only saw two people, a younger couple sitting on a dark stone seat holding hands in silence, eyes closed and facing the rising sun.

As he walked past them, they lazily opened their eyes, smiled in a befuddled sort of way, and watched him continue.

None of the shops were open yet, but this didn't overly surprise him. A lot of these places had business hours that were more conducive to the "sleepy country town" attitude than the bustle of the city that he was used to.

He sauntered through the main street, eyeing off storefronts that he would visit when they opened. The silence was odd though. He expected a few early-risers to be around, but there were none. Only the young couple.

It was strange architecture around here, definitely not what he expected. Dark stone buildings squatting boldly. Those seats placed all around the town. A local peccadillo, he supposed.

----

As he wandered, the town woke up. People started to walk around slowly as they woke from their slumber. A few nodded greetings to him as they walked past.

Eventually he found a café that was opening its doors.

Time for his morning coffee.

He entered the small shop and was immediately struck by the heat. Radiant lamps stood in each corner, bringing the temperature up to an uncomfortable level. At the counter he asked for a mug of coffee. The barista took his money and made the minimum effort of small-talk. A strange accent, he thought.

There weren't any outside tables, so he removed his jacket and sat down in the stifling heat near the window.

After a minute or so of the usual coffee machine gurgles, his coffee was served. A bit more conversation by the barista, this time slightly more welcoming. He took a sip, but the water was almost boiling. Wincing slightly, he put the mug back down.

As he sat waited for his coffee to cool down, he maintained the polite discussion with the barista who asked him where he was from, and talked about the town he was in.

Eventually the young lady asked, "Is the coffee ok?"

"No, I'm just waiting for it to cool down," he replied.

The barista raised her brows and gave him a quizzical look. She apologised for the coffee being too hot, and told him she'd check the settings on the machine.

"No problem. I've got time. It's fine; just a bit hot."

After a few uncomfortable minutes in the sweltering heat of the café, the coffee had cooled enough, and he sipped it down, watching a few locals come in slowly through the door. He could certainly empathise with the pre-coffee morning sluggishness.

By the time he finished his drink, the clock on the wall was showing almost 10 o'clock. Time to see what those shops were selling, he thought.

----

Outside the café, he saw more people sitting around on the stone benches. A few were holding conversations with each other, lazily looking around and slowly blinking in the sunlight. They all wore heavy coats and long pants, relics from the early morning cool.

He wandered along the street, but this time a few of the stores were open. He could get used to this lifestyle. Easy mornings, no high-pressure job.

The sunlight was warming up the air to a very nice temperature somewhere in the mid- to high-20°C range. There were hardly any trees lining the street, so he walked in the diminishing shade provided by the west-facing walls, trying to work off some of the sweat that had accumulated in the café.

The slight breeze on his skin felt nice, but all gains there were immediately wiped out when he entered the first shop. Again, it was frightfully hot, lamps again placed strategically in the corners, pumping out a disturbing amount of heat.

The shopkeeper seemed unperturbed by the temperature, and he assumed it must be a quirk of the region. Maybe they liked saunas?

----

It was a meandering day. He just walked around, cooling slightly between each stubbornly heated shop. Sometime during the morning he noticed that the seats were no longer used and the people started moving a bit more purposefully. Took them some time to warm up, he supposed.

After lunch he went to the hills for an afternoon hike, to see the countryside and revel in the moving air. "These people really like things hot, don't they?" he thought to himself as he wandered off. It was a warm day regardless, and yet the townsfolk were still using those heat lamps inside. What an odd place.

As the sun started to set, he made his way back to the campsite. His food was running low, so tomorrow he'd have to get some more supplies, but for tonight it was going to be a simple meal of beans and bacon.

----

Leaning back on the grass, he looked up at the night sky. The stars glittered above; one day he'll have to learn some of the constellations, he thought, but he'd had that idea every time he'd gone for a hiking trip. He knew he wasn't fooling himself.

The cool air was refreshing after the furnaces he had been in today. Things to remember for tomorrow: no jacket.

Camping always confused his body-clock. While he was sure it couldn't have been later than 9pm, the lack of artificial light made him sleepy so he retired to the tent. Tomorrow he'd have to find a shower.

----

Another dawn woke him up, like usual. The season was changing and he could already feel the cold night air leech away. Summer was on its way, but still a month off. A brisk morning walk would get him fired up and ready to go.

"Remember... no jacket." The brief cold this morning isn't worth carrying around the extra clothing every time he stepped inside one of the buildings in town.

Knowing that the local shops didn't open until around 9am, he took his time to prepare for the day. The fire was lit, the last of his bacon was cooked and a cup of tea washed it down.

He walked towards the paddocks where the cows were grazing. Like all cows everywhere, they looked at him with bemusement before getting back to their life of chewing grass. He found it relaxing just watching the beasts idle their way through the days.

When the sun had climbed the sky to about a mid-morning position, he trekked off towards town again. Time to find a shower and restock the food situation. Hopefully avoid some of the uncomfortably warm stores. Maybe spend enough time to have a pub meal in the evening and sink down a pint of cool beer; a luxury he hadn't had for a few days.

----

Walking through town, he noticed the people were still rugged up in their coats. For a mild spring day, this seemed unusual, but given the way they toast the inside of their stores, it didn't seem that remarkable in itself.

What he did find strange was the way some of the townsfolk stared at him. Was he doing something wrong? Did he have snot hanging out of his nose? Weird.

He found the town's main hall which doubled as an information centre. Preoccupied with both the worrying amount of attention he was getting, and the hope that he'd get directions to a public shower, he'd forgotten about the furnace conditions inside the local buildings.

The entrance was a grand affair, presenting a long hall into the reception area.

The floor felt strangely warm, the polished dark stone showing flecks of sparkles through the gloss. Half a dozen heat lamps lined each side of the hall, radiating an oppressive amount of warmth.

He was glad he didn't bring a jacket. Sweat immediately started to bead on his skin, and he could feel the back of his shirt moisten against his backpack. A shower was definitely needed now.

----

He spoke to one of the helpful staff members behind the information counter. Despite the temperature, the assistant was wearing a coat. Beside her was a steaming mug of soup and she seemed unaffected by the greenhouse heat. She wasn't even sweating, while he felt like he was covered in the stuff.

She gave directions to a public amenity block towards the rear of the building and mentioned that it was a coin-activated system. He jingled the shrapnel in his pocket and smiled, telling her he was prepared for this.

As he turned away, she bid him farewell: "Stay warm."

He replied his thanks, even through his confusion. It felt hot; staying warm was not going to be a problem.

Finding his way to the showers, he looked forward to some cool water. After setting himself up and feeding some coins into the machine, he looked at the single mixer tap in the cubical. It looked inviting, and he turned it all the way in the cold direction before stepping into the stream of water.

For a moment it was nice. Sweat washed away under the cool spray. That sensation only lasted a few seconds. With startling efficiency the water warmed up; not by an intolerable amount, but just enough to get him frustrated at the design of this town which apparently only ever wanted heat.

He didn't take long to scrub off the last day-and-a-half of sweat and dust, and stepped out relatively quickly. He would have liked to have had a relaxing cool shower, but whatever. This minor detail just annoyed him.

After turning off the water, overhead heat lamps suddenly burst into life. Radiating a ridiculous amount of warmth, he had to dry himself quickly and dress as fast as possible. He needed to be outside. He needed the breeze.

----

With just a t-shirt and shorts on, he stepped out of the amenity block. The cool air of the gentle wind made him slightly less grumpy, but the layout of the building meant that there was precious little shade anywhere to be found. While the breeze cooled him, the sun heated him.

Finding what little outside shelter he could, he stood for a while. The walls were too warm to comfortably touch or even be close to, and the stone seats were like a stove.

This town was weird. What is wrong with everyone here?

As he stood, the sun kept its inevitable afternoon decline. Soon – despite the ridiculous town planning – shadows stretched through this little square off the main street. He started to reach a temperature that wasn't disturbing. It would have been nice to sit down, but there was nowhere suitable to plant himself. Everything radiated heat.

A father and his small son walked through the square. The man asked whether everything was ok. "Are you warm enough? Got the 'morning cool'?" he said in his strange accent.

What the hell did that mean?!

"No, I'm fine, thanks. Just waiting a while."

Another curious look. "There's some sun over there. Maybe that would help?"

While he could tell that the father was trying to help, it was hard to not get frustrated. He just needed to stay cool! Why couldn't these people understand?

"I'm ok. I won't be too long here," he replied instead of showing his agitation.

The man and his son moved off, the little boy asking why someone would stand in the shade. The response from the father was too muffled to hear. And to be honest, the care factor was approaching zero.

----

He waited for another hour or so until dusk had properly arrived. There was a slight chill in the air now, enough so that the breeze wasn't needed to whisk away the sweat.

Pub time. A meal and beer. They can't possibly mess that up...

----

Of course, the pub was blasting heat like it was going out of style. It felt like a forge inside; heat lamps scattered throughout the building radiating a wall of uncomfortable warmth.

He ordered a simple meal at the counter and asked for a cool beer.

"A cold beer? Why?" the barkeep said, an incredulous tone to his voice. "Where you from? That's something I've not heard of before."

"I've been walking for a couple of weeks. Maybe we do things differently out there," he replied, tactfully avoiding both naming the city and raising the ire of the man behind the counter. "Just a beer, thanks."

The pint glass wasn't cold. It wasn't even room temperature. Somehow, the beer was warm.

Maybe they can mess this up.

----

The meal came out and was as delicious as he'd hoped it would be. At least they do hot food right. Washing it down with warm beer seemed like sacrilege, but anything was better than nothing. And there was no evidence of chilled water anywhere.

He decided that this would be the final night in town. He'd leave in the early morning, where he assumed that nobody would be around to see him.

Looking around the steaming hot pub, he noticed the few patrons were treating everything like it was all normal. Standing or sitting in small groups, laughing and talking like any other pubs anywhere. It was a welcoming thought, but then he noticed a distinct difference between him and the others...

Nobody was sweating.

He was drenched from both the stifling heat and the warm beer. The others? Nothing. They were behaving like it was just another night.

As he stood to leave, one of the wait staff asked if he'd like them to order a heated car for his trip home. He declined, but could immediately feel an element of panic set into his chest.

This isn't right. Nothing is adding up. I need to get away.

----

The walk home through the cool evening air calmed him somewhat, but he had resolved to leave early morning tomorrow.

----

He didn't sleep well that night, but at least it allowed him to rise early. "Crap. I forgot to go to the shops." The previous day's frustrations were giving him grief now, but he still didn't want to stay. He packed his small tent and camping gear into a hiking pack, shouldered it all, and made his way to the road. This should be the most direct way home.

He was glad for the meal he'd had last night, but with no breakfast or bottled water ("Do they even sell that stuff here?" he wondered), this was already setting out to be a miserable walk.

Just before the sun rose over the horizon, he made his way past the outskirts of the town. The pre-dawn light was enough to navigate by, and when he'd finally cleared the scattered buildings he realized that he had been feeling pensive this whole time. Now that home was the next destination, his sense of disturbance abated.

By the time he'd gotten to the highway and the sun was just over the horizon, he was sweating and cranky. His heart was thumping in his chest and it was difficult to maintain concentration. He kept reminding himself of where he was headed, giving himself the motivation to keep going.

"If only I had a drink. Sheesh, it's hot," he mumbled to himself as he trudged along the deserted road. "Damn that interminable town!" He could feel his anger rise further, and his thoughts – as scattered as they were – kept returning to the ridiculous nature of the place he's just left.

As he continued, he got more and more cranky. And thirsty. He was fixated on getting out of here. Get home. Back to normalcy. At least he wasn't sweating any more.

In the distance he could see an overpass. "Shade," he thought in a detached sort of way. He watched his feet trudge on. They weren't following a usual rhythm, but he was not concerned. It was like it was happening to another person.

He continued following the road. Home.

Clink-clank.

Whenever I hear the bell above the door, it feels as though the end of my day is finally beginning.

Mama sets down a glass of Harper without asking.

The ice gives a soft clink.

“Kenichi.”

Taka is smiling at something on his phone.

“What have you found today?”

“I read an essay called I Was Raised Among Things That Stirred the Heart.”

“Things that stirred the heart, huh?”

I lift my glass with a faint smile.

“It was about relatives gathering during Obon, old family storehouses, catching crayfish in a stream…that sort of thing.”

“Sounds nostalgic, doesn’t it?”

“Does it?”

Taka blinks at me.

“What?”

“I’ve only seen a proper old storehouse a handful of times in my life. I can’t remember how many times I ever went catching crayfish, either.”

I pause, surprised by my own words.

“And yet it still feels familiar.”

I tilt my head.

“Strange, isn’t it?”

“Feeling nostalgic for things you barely experienced.”

Taka folds his arms.

“Now that you mention it…”

“What is that feeling?”

We drink in silence for a while.

Then Tom chuckles.

“Kenichi.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve never seen one of those old storehouses in my life.”

“That so?”

“I grew up in a neighborhood full of little factories.”

He rolls the whiskey in his glass.

“My childhood memories were simpler.”

“The ten-yen toy machine outside the general store.”

“The old woman who ran the candy shop.”

“Wind chimes in summer.”

“And in winter, on the rare day when we got enough snow, every kid in the neighborhood trying to build a snowman.”

Tom watches the ice turn in his glass.

“After I became a detective…”

“I saw one rotten scene after another.”

“I saw more of the worst parts of people than I care to remember.”

A small smile touches his face.

“But the older I get, the more I find myself thinking about that cheap toy machine.”

I nod without speaking.

“It’s not the neighborhood I miss.”

Tom speaks slowly.

“It’s the boy who lived there.”

Something in those words settles deep in my gut.

The ice gives another quiet clink.

“I see.”

I look down into my glass.

“Nostalgia isn’t about returning to a place.”

“It’s about going back to meet the person you used to be.”

Taka tilts his head.

He is no kid himself, but now and then I still feel the difference between the worlds we grew up seeing.

“The person I used to be…”

“People forget what kind of children they once were.”

“So it can be anything.”

“A wind chime.”

“A candy shop.”

“A muddy creek full of crayfish.”

“We need bookmarks that help us find our way back to the person we were.”

Tom smiles.

“A bookmark.”

“Not a bad way of putting it.”

I think again about the line from the essay.

I was raised among things that stirred the heart.

At first, I thought it was about scenery.

It wasn’t.

She wasn’t remembering the storehouse.

Or the summer lanterns carried to family graves.

She was remembering the person she had been among them.

“Kenichi.”

Taka looks at me.

“So what is nostalgia, then?”

I take a sip of Harper.

“Maybe it begins with a hunger for stories.”

“And nostalgia built on that hunger is a double-edged blade.”

“Double-edged?”

“It makes you want to protect things.”

“And it makes you want to push forward.”

“You want to preserve the old scenery.”

“But that alone isn’t enough.”

“You start wanting to live a life that someone might remember one day.”

Taka listens without interrupting.

“That’s why people can feel nostalgic for an old storehouse they never really knew.”

“They don’t want the storehouse.”

“They want a life with stories worth telling.”

The bar falls quiet.

Mama places a polished glass back on the shelf.

“So that’s why people go home for Obon every year.”

I smile.

“Not only to visit their ancestors.”

“They’re going back to reread themselves.”

The ice gives one last clink.

For a moment, it sounds like a summer from my childhood.

This story was inspired by an essay written by Momomaro Umeko.

Perhaps summer is the season of bookmarks.

See you again at Bar Aoi.

That is enough for tonight.

Our stories continue a little longer on Kindle.

🖼 Cover

🔰 Prologue

⏪️ Previous Chapter

⏩️ Next Chapter

🎮 Discord

Arc II - Agrarian Revolution

Chapter 28 - Chevauchée

4 months and 16 days since the summoning

"AAAAAAA!" shouted the man tied to the chair at the top of his lungs. He sat in nothing but a shirt, his fingers and nails were completely reduced to raw meat, blood flowed from his nose, and one eye was swollen shut so badly it could not

be seen.

In the middle of the dark room, illuminated only by the fireplace, stood a figure dressed in fine clothing and leather gloves, holding something resembling pincers in his hand.

Tsinker.

He was breathing heavily, and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve. Then he approached the captive and crouched down, looking straight into his eyes with an empty gaze. "The password, if you please."

"Go... to... hell..." wheezed the man.

Tsinker straightened up and exhaled. "No, it appears we shall not reach an agreement in this manner. Either you divulge the password for the supply train, or I shall transition to more... unpleasant methods."

The man simply spat blood onto the floor.

"I see," said Tsinker, then took a dagger from the table. He crouched by the fireplace with it and began to heat the blade.

The captive weakly turned his head toward him. "What... do you intend to do?"

"I shall heat this dagger red-hot, and then I shall use it to sever that by which you possess a wife and children at all."

The man froze, then slowly paled as much as was physically possible. "No... you... you are noble! You are a nobleman! You would not dare stoop to such Mirean methods!"

Tsinker did not answer, simply continuing to hold the dagger by the fire. The blade began to slowly turn red.

The captive's breathing quickened, a drop of sweat rolling down his forehead. "HALT! I SHALL TELL YOU EVERYTHING!"

Tsinker immediately stood up, and then set the dagger aside. "I am listening."

"T-the password..."

Tsinker walked over to a pitcher of water. "The password is insufficient, divulge everything you know."

"Y-yes... Count Rogtem's supply train is currently located in a secret camp, at the foot of the southern mountains..."

He took the mug of water and began to drink greedily.

"It is heavily guarded... T-the password is 'Holy Ronva'..." the captive coughed, "and the response is 'Zondan'..."

Tsinker wiped his lips with his sleeve. "Oh, a holy password, and a legendary warrior in response. Pray, continue. What is the token confirming clearance to the train? A seal, perhaps? A ring?"

The captive shook his head. "N-no... the confirmation is a golden denarius..."

Tsinker blinked. "An Arumelian coin? Truly?"

"Y-yes... such a coin is held by..."

"It matters not, I have one in my collection. Is there anything else?"

The captive sharply raised his head. "That is all I know! I swear it! I know nothing more!"

Utew looked at him for a few more seconds. "When does the password change?"

"I-in three days..."

Tsinker nodded, and then picked up a rope from the table.

The man's eyes widened. "N-no... DO NOT! DO YOU KNOW WHAT AWAITS YOU FOR THIS?! I AM BARON ONTI! I AM A VASSAL OF COUNT ROGTEM! THEY WILL HANG YOU!"

Tsinker was not listening.

"I BEG OF YOU! I SHALL TELL NO ONE WHAT YOU HAVE DONE TO ME! A MASSIVE RANSOM WILL BE PAID FOR ME! YOU ARE LOSING A GREAT DEAL OF SILVER!"

Utew threw the rope around his neck and pulled sharply. The baron's scream was abruptly cut off, turning into a quiet wheeze and gasps. Tsinker clenched his teeth and pulled as hard as he could.

From such pressure, Onti's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets; he twitched as if he were about to fall over along with the chair, and then his body slowly began to go limp.

Utew held the rope for a few more seconds, then let go completely and tossed it aside. His fingers immediately touched the baron's neck.

A weak pulse.

He picked up the rope again and choked him for almost another minute, after which he touched the neck once more.

No pulse.

Tsinker threw the rope aside, took off his gloves, and walked over to a table in the corner where his fine clothes lay.

A few minutes later, he stepped out into the mansion's corridor, having locked the door behind him, and walked along the building with his hands clasped behind his back.

Heavy rain was falling outside the window, the mansion's courtyard gleamed with moisture, and there was no one outside.

From around the corner emerged a young woman, dressed in the unremarkable clothing of a simple maid.

Shilisa.

"Have you... finished, Lord Tsinker?"

He stopped, looking at her. "Yes. What of the prisoners?"

"They are all accommodated as you ordered: food, wine, soft beds."

Tsinker remained silent for a few seconds, and then slowly nodded and walked on.

Shilisa clenched her fists. "Lord Tsinker."

He stopped again without even turning around. "Yes?"

She swallowed. "Is there... any other work for me? I can do more than play the role of a maid, I can plan and..."

"At present, you are a maid," he interrupted. "If I said it is necessary, then it is necessary. Other assignments will follow later." He finished and simply walked away.

Shilisa pressed her lips together. "A maid." she whispered. "I can be useful." The girl turned around sharply and walked in the opposite direction toward that very door.

The plains on the way to the Barony of Inres

The rain had already stopped, but about a hundred horses trampled the wet grass, and in some places the mud, moving south in the direction of Baron Inres.

Alan, as usual, sat behind Kamelia on the horse, holding onto her belt. Lorgi rode nearby, and then he turned to the countess. "Your Grace, the village is very close now. Is the plan the same?"

Kamelia just looked straight ahead, then slowly, almost by force, nodded. "Yes, the same."

"Understood."

Alan blinked. "What plan?"

"To burn and pillage the village."

Alan blinked again. "Excuse me, what?"

"To burn and pillage the village," she hissed through her teeth. "Are you hard of hearing?"

Alan swallowed.

'Fuck... how could I forget about this... chevauchée, scorched earth tactics. OF COURSE, IT'S THE FUCKING MIDDLE AGES FOR FUCK'S SAKE. Come on, you fucking historian, remember how medieval wars were fought. Soldiers would enter a village, trample the fields, burn the houses, rape the women, kill the men, take all the food, and move on... all to replenish their supplies, show strength and that the enemy suzerain can't protect his lands, deprive the enemy of resources, and let the soldiers profit, that's how it all happened, but fuck! Now a chevauchée is going to happen right before my eyes! Right now, they're actually going to kill unarmed peasants!'

He looked sharply at Lorgi; the man was absolutely calm.

'Of course... how could I forget, no matter how noble a captain he is, peasants are just cattle to him, that's how the psychology of a high medieval soldier works.'

Then he shifted his gaze to Kamelia; her shoulders were tense, the reins gripped far too tightly.

'And you... Kamelia... you don't want to do this, but you're forced to, goddammit, I NEED TO COME UP WITH SOMETHING! I can plan a war, I can order the assassination of aristocracy, but this, it'd be easier to slit my wrists after this.'

"Hey, Kamelia."

"What do you want?!" she said sharply, far too sharply.

Alan flinched slightly, but just leaned closer. "Listen carefully, I have a better plan."

Dozens of riders appeared as if out of nowhere, and began to surround the village with their swords raised high.

The peasants who were gathering to head to the fields immediately froze, looking around helplessly.

A middle-aged man put his hand on the shoulder of a boy of about seven, looking around.

A woman of about forty, catching sight of the cavalry, immediately began pushing a young girl back into the house.

Only two horses rode right into the village square. Kamelia with a drawn sword, and Alan.

Instead of peasant clothes, he wore dark knight's plate armor, and in his hands he held a crossbow. Alan somehow managed to stop the horse, nearly falling off, and then slowly, very slowly dismounted, his armor clanking.

Kamelia jumped down with a familiar motion.

Alan ostentatiously slung the crossbow over his shoulder. "Gather everyone in the square," his deformed, muffled voice sounded from beneath the helmet.

Nine more riders galloped into the square, with crossbows instead of blades, dismounted, and purposely keeping their weapons in plain sight, dispersed among the houses.

One of the knights kicked in the door of a house; inside sat a middle-aged woman holding a baby in her arms. She immediately backed into a corner, looking at the soldier with wide eyes.

The knight waved his crossbow, pointing toward the street. "To the square, move!"

The woman flinched and immediately darted out into the street like a bullet.

The knights methodically walked through the houses, seeking out and dragging everyone who was hiding into the square. Ten minutes later, a soldier finally shoved the last man into the square with all his might; the man fell to his knees.

Alan raised his hand. "Everyone on your knees!"

The peasants did not hesitate for a second; everyone immediately dropped to their knees right in the mud in less than five seconds, shivering from the morning cold.

He looked at these people for a few more seconds.

'I'm sorry. It has to be this way.'

He stepped aside, then Kamelia took a few steps forward and stopped before the crowd. "My name is Kamelia Armenas, and I am the lawful sovereign of these lands. Baron Inres has cowardly betrayed me and declared war. You are also traitors, just as he is, and I have every right to execute you all and burn your village to the ground."

One young girl squeezed her eyes shut, but a tear still leaked through.

A man clenched his fists full of mud, and simply stared at the ground.

"But..." Kamelia continued. "Svyatol has granted you mercy, Lord Alan Gothwald, the summoned hero." She pointed her hand at Alan.

The peasants froze as one.

"Eldritch..." someone whispered.

"Lord Gothwald has decided that you merely stumbled, found yourselves on the wrong side, therefore, having consulted with him, I have decided to give you a choice. Either you recognize me, Countess Armenas, as your sole suzerain, or I declare you traitors. All who refuse to recognize me—stand up."

No one stood.

Kamelia gave Alan a barely noticeable nod, after which he immediately took the crossbow off his shoulder and held it at his hip. "The right choice. Now you will give us a portion of your supplies, and in exchange, we will not harm you, and you will fall under our protection, and also, after the victory, I will share things with you that you have surely heard of by now." He tossed the crossbow slightly in his hand. "Stand up."

The peasants began to slowly stand up, and then bowed once more, almost to the ground.

"Thank you, Lady Armenas!"

"Thank you!"

"We will not forget!"

"We will atone for our guilt!"

Alan just watched through the slit.

'Yeah... so that's how it is. Saving them from the plague, finding food for sustenance, new technologies, no one thanks you for that and everyone turns up their noses, except the beastmen of course, and even there they have their own quirks, but here, suddenly, all it took was showing a threat to their lives, and look how it turns out. That's how people work, right? Wait, stop!'

He shook his head.

'Now is not the time to think about my ego. They joined voluntarily... almost, and this fucking massacre didn't happen. Yes, it was cruel, but how else? If we hadn't shown strength, they would have run to the baron the very next day to tell him everything and started sabotaging us! This isn't the twenty-first century, people are different here! No one is killed, everyone got off with a scare, that's the main thing.'

He watched as the peasants ran back to their houses and brought the soldiers bread, cheese, and bags of grain.

'What was it Machiavelli wrote? Should a ruler be feared or loved? It's good to be both, but if you have to choose, you must choose fear. The love of the crowd blows like the wind, first one way, then the other, but fear... fear works flawlessly, a universal language, this is my life now, huh? The end justifies the means, Machiavelli said that too... yeah, exactly! If just scaring the shit out of them was the price to pay to avoid slaughtering the whole village, then it's an acceptable price.'

His gaze caught on a small figure nearby; he lowered his head and saw a peasant girl of about seven standing before him, just looking at Alan with an open mouth.

Alan blinked.

'What does she want anyway?'

"Did you want something?"

The girl flinched, but did not run away. "Um... are you really that Eldritch?"

Alan blinked again.

'Eldritch? Holy shit, what a nickname they gave me... fuck, that's right! Children are the most honest people, so I can learn a lot from her.'

Gothwald dropped to one knee to be on the same level as the child; several peasants froze with food in their hands. "And why was I nicknamed that?"

The girl clasped her hands behind her back. "Well... just... because you are a summoned hero from another world, you burned down a sick village, invented some weird things... you are very scary."

Alan scoffed through his helmet. "Hah, yeah... very scary. But I won't harm those who serve me."

She looked up. "Really? And... could you... please... not take all the food? Mommy is hungry, very, very hungry."

Alan froze.

'Fuck, don't. I'm begging you, don't. I feel crappy enough inside as it is. Wait a second, think about the consequences, Alan, there's a famine right now, if I take their food, the whole village might just fucking starve to death and that's it, why didn't I take this into account earlier? I need to prevent these consequences... OF COURSE!'

"No, we will take all the food, but in exchange... you said you heard about me making weird things?"

She nodded. "Yes... I heard."

"Well, we'll do one of those things in your village too. Lady Armenas's lands were starving as well, but we found plants growing in the forest and fields that you can eat. We will send a messenger, and he will tell you how to cook them and where to look for them, and you will have food."

The girl clenched her small fists. "Really?! Thank you! So no one will die of hunger?!"

"If you listen to me, then yes," he stood up from his knee, and then turned to Kamelia. "Lady Armenas."

She tore her gaze from the peasants. "Yes, Lord Gothwald?"

The peasants almost forgot where they were going, their steps slow, casting sidelong glances at Alan, some openly stopping and listening.

Alan coughed. "Take one of the soldiers and send him for a messenger; let him bring this village the knowledge of food that can be foraged anywhere."

First

(Sorry for delay, still recovering from yesterday.)

Undying Blues

“Is it really that bad?”

“Lady Ungora once being Lady Wurana would be an insult and injury far greater than the wholeness of the war so far. By several orders of magnitude at least. La’ahbaron would take it not only personally, but deeply personally. It would justify everything she’s ever done out of paranoia and cause her to double, if not triple down. For all the faults of the La’ahbaron empire, they are relatively tame, they would each and every one grow to be much, much more extreme if knowledge of Ungora and her original identity would come out.”

“The Lady says that she’s not that person and was reborn. That she truly began life as an immortal.”

“Did she? Again, I respectfully request to hear what she told you of her origin. Again, the truth she gave you and the truth she gave to me are likely different, as truth can be a nebulous thing and shifts depending on who is hearing it.”

“What does that mean?” Sue’Li asks and he smiles.

“Well, to use an overly simple example. A knife might be something dangerous to you at times, but to me it’s something that cuts up food into bite sized pieces. They’re not dangerous at all. That’s because you are a Vish and I am an Ibu. Likewise, my being seen and recognized on sight is something I find very ordinary. But I’d wager is unusual to you. All these things are truths, but notice they’re different. Most things in life are like that. It’s why Facts and Truths are different. Make sense?”

“It does but... you’re loyal to La’ahbaron. I’m not sure you’d like to hear the story as the lady tells it.”

“I’m adult enough to know that you’re just repeating what someone else said. Getting upset at you for it is the action of a child. And I haven’t been a child in a long time. Likely longer than you’ve been alive.” Danburi assures her and she nods.

“Okay well...” She looks towards the machine whee the clothing is being washed. “I think we can get a summary of it out before the clothing finishes. “Her story begins upon a world where death and life had blended together as one. Where it was sanity and self control that died as the people and beasts were rendered immortal. She had found that world in a search for answers and had found answers not to her questions, but to questions she had yet to even imagine.”

“The Lady Ungora was reborn upon that world. In the temple of smoke where the sane and sober of the immortal sought to tame their inner discord she, as a mighty Ibu, was already well practised in the art and needed little, if any of their teaching. But she sought truth regardless and abided within the temple for a time. Learning to add their ways to her own refinement. But she didn’t stay satisfied for long and pushed out from the temple, testing herself against the mad, the violent and the twisted. She fought other immortals in all their forms and sought out a way to conquer endless life.” Sue’Li says.

“Stop skipping details!” One of the laundry girls protests. “This is the best part! Let me explain it to him!”

“Very well.” Sue’Li permits her.

“Thank you, oh named one.”

“Do you want a name?” Danburi asks and the would be storyteller pauses and stares.

“Uh... maybe?”

“Yun. It is a common shortening of Yunun. Meaning dutiful.” He says and there is stillness.

“I am Yun. I am... dutiful.” She says to herself. “Dutiful Yun! Yun the dutiful!”

There is laughter and a sense of relief to her tone. Names hold power, and he just gave her some. Now what will she do with it?

“Yun, if you’re so dutiful, then why not continue the story you were so eager to tell?” Sue’Li asks.

“Oh! Yes! I shall! Now your aunt, Lady Ungora, though she had yet to earn her name proper then, was seeking out a scholar she had heard rumours of. Granted the rumours were from the blood flecked lips of madwomen. But it was better than nothing. Her search brought her to a great snow choked canyon. Where every instinct relating to danger cried out to never enter it. Even the madwomen immortals in the area were being cautious, for they had cloaked themselves in white to blend in with the snow and pale flowers that grew in abundance despite the cold.”

“It didn’t take her long to find what had her so on edge. The winds shifting direction caused the light snow to blow against and start piling ever so on a massive creature that was watching carefully. It was a white serpent of such size that even The Lady was shorter than it’s fangs.

There was a rush of movement and the pink of it’s inner mouth as it suddenly lunged at her with such speed that even though she dodged the blow, the shockwave of the serpent striking the ground where she had stood knocked her further back and sent her skidding through the snow. By reflex she hurled her orojo with all the force she could muster, and couldn’t even dent a scale on the titanic monster.

But The Lady was resolved and unwilling to surrender to anything. Death had been stripped from her, so anything even resembling caution had been torn away. She charged forward even as the serpent rose up. It struck down and she jumped to meet it. It’s fangs slid off her Ibu skin and it’s jaws came down with the force to crush stone.

She caught them, standing in it’s mouth even as she slowly broke teeth and the tongue of the creature lashed at her. It thrashed, it roared, but it did not have the sense to stop biting her. Until it drove it’s head into the stone with such force that she was swept into the gullet of the monster.”

“She was eaten alive?” He asks.

“It’s not like she could die. But as she had lost her grip she was pushed further and further down into the gullet of the monster, a wall of broken stone and melted snow following her down. The internals of the beast were with crushing strength and axiom sapping nature designed to allow the monster to digest it’s food. But The Lady, like all others of the world were immortal. She was not alone down there. Others were as well, suffering in the gullet. Unable to die. Unable to breathe or see or hear or smell. All they had was their numbed sense of touch to navigate through the hell of eternal torment.

Around her the stone was broken to gravel, then the gravel ground down to sand and the sand faded entirely to reinforce the unnatural scales of the monster.

Then she found another. They thrashed, panicked and then she placed a palm on their brow. She heard their thoughts, impossible screams and hellish pain. She knew the true danger then. It wasn’t digestion, it was the desolation of the mind. On the mad world where death was undone the greatest defeat wasn’t death, it couldn’t be. It was surrender. Surrender to the torment, to the pain. So she commanded the Tret, using the Axiom to instill her desires into her mind. Giving her focus, giving her purpose. And she sought out the others.” Yun continues and Danburi nods in rapt attention.

“Eventually her plan got around to all the others and they all began to pull as hard on the Axiom as they could, pulling and pulling until Null detonated out. Everyone dropped, but somehow, no one died. The snake wasn’t fond of that though and began thrashing. Over and over again it thrashed and squirmed as they Nulled the monster from the inside time and again until a massive flood of water poured in and the tunnel within the monster was opened by the water.

They were swept through it’s digestive tract and out into the light. But The Lady was greatly wroth with the monster and unwilling to let it simply leave without at leas a marking of her rage. Even if it was immortal as she, she grasped the tip of it’s tail near where she was swept out and began to exert as much might as she could muster without Nulling herself.

Around the base of a great tree she pulled the tail of the monster and tied it into a knot, then, knowing it would free itself shortly, she climbed the tree with great vigour and tore a branch asunder into many massive shards of sharp wood. Endowing them with Axiom she thrust the wood shards into the muscles and joints between the beast, paralyzing it and pinning it to the mighty tree.

But that was just the prelude to her proper plan. For with the serpent trapped she landed upon the roots of the tree and directed it to drink deep of the surrounding waters and life. Much of the forest withered and began to rot as that singular tree grew and grew, up and out, the wood slowly enveloping the serpent. In short order it began to thrash and roar in pain and confinement. It understood that for the first time since it had been endowed with endless power and life, it was now losing and would lose further.

She stopped it from biting away parts of it’s body and forced the creature to scream and squirm. She struck the beast in the head through the socket of the eye and stunned it before binding it’s head to the tree. She then caused it to grow further until the tree, already massive completely enveloped the serpent. Then she slew the tree and tore out it’s water before setting it ablaze. Forcing the heat into the monster harder and harder until nothing but ashes remained.”

“An incredible fight, but how did she learn anything from that? Beyond her new immortality being immune to Null of course.” He asks.

Because within the ashes, and she is to this day uncertain if it was within the tree or within the serpent, was a strange stone. It was a disk with holes and an engraving of numbers and a strange series of lines on one side. According to the Lady, learning that the holes represented the brightest stars in the sky took a long time. The numbers were the day of the year, and the line showed the scenery. A place she must stand to find what it concealed.”

“That is incredibly convoluted and prone to failure.” Danburi protests.

“That’s because Yun got it wrong. She’s misremembered, the numbers were not a time, they were coordinates for the largest mountain in the world. She deciphered it by standing upon it’s peak and raising the disk to the sky until the brightest stars shone through each hole. Then she lowered it to find the place on the horizon that matched the remaining markings. It gave her directions to another temple. One that was... most bizarre.”

“Bizarre how?” Danburi asks but moments before the washing is finished. “Oh... please keep going.”

“Well, when she arrived there was a scroll flapping in the wind. One that stated she must conquer that which blinds her to her follies, that which deafens her to wisdom, that which whispers lies and that most terrible thing within. Then, after reading the scroll a great haze came over the world and it shimmered. She was suddenly atop a temple in the sky, but she was not alone. Four terrible beasts stalked the halls. One hunted with baleful red eyes, another listened for her and would scream to alert the others, a third would echo the screams of it’s fellows and bringing swarms of the screeching undying. Then finally was the fourth. It was cunning. It was clever and quiet. It stayed away, kept it’s distance and until it was slain like it’s kin the great illusion remained. But after slaying them, she entered the temple and found portraits of them. Complete with the wounds she had heaped upon the beasts.”

“What could possibly have been protected by such strange guardians and riddles?” Danburi asks in wonder. Every inch the attentive and fascinated audience.

“Death was there.” Yun says. “All the world’s death banished into a single blade. One so deadly it brought the deathless to their knees to merely gaze upon it. And to hold it unsheathed rendered the wielder mortal again. For a time at least.”

“Oh...” Danburi notes. He wasn’t expecting THIS information. But he should have something to compare to when she tells him this part. “Hmm... when she told me of her time on that world she focused much on what immortality did to the unworthy and the frail, and how herbs and a great deal of meditation was required for those who were not her to handle the immortality.”

“Really?”

“Really. Perhaps she meant to teach me about my own new state and how to live with it, as she likely meant to teach you of her power and worthiness to lead.”

First Last

“Colt?” The woman replied back, stepping back slightly, and tilting her head in confusion. Her nose scrunched, and she crossed her arms in a light huff. I could imagine the gears in her head spinning as she thought. Not being able to find whatever she was looking for in her grey matter, she shifted her attention to the wall behind me, stepping closer to it, examining each picture closely.

She took in each photograph one by one, pausing at each, while quietly muttering my name repeatedly. Something was on the tip of her tongue; anyone could tell. But as she stepped in front of a picture of me about a decade earlier, she paused, reached out, and ran a finger over the glass, clearing away the dust.

She pulled the picture off the wall, then turned around and compared it to me. A smile, predatory yet equally joyful, formed on her plush lips, with hints of slightly longer-than-normal canines visible. Without any warning, the woman tossed herself at me, arms draping over my shoulders as she squealed in joy.

“Colt, I never thought I would see you again.” She buried her head into the crook of my neck, pulling herself flush against me with an amount of strength that was truly shocking. 

Awkwardly, I hugged her back. My mind raced through every memory of who I knew over the years. Specifically, I was desperate for any whiff of a hint of who I knew, Pop-pop knew, and whose mother would trust him enough to teach her daughter to look for him if she needed help.

Leaning back, I took a good look at the woman, her smile, brownish-amber eyes, everything---I had to know who this was. It was her small set of speckled freckles running across her cheeks that made me realize who she was. Specifically, the little constellation-like grouping in the shape of the southern cross.

Other kids would constantly tease her about that whenever I visited Palmyra in the summer. Call her weird, a loser, a freak. She and I had first connected because of ostracism. The other kids did not like me because I was a city boy.  For many years, every summer and hunting season, we would spend many hours as one another's only friend in the little town. I could never forget the morning glow bouncing off those freckles, bent over a bait bucket, her tongue caught between her teeth as she tried to thread a worm onto a hook. 

Compared to the last time I had seen her, she had certainly grown up in ways that made Bailey far more womanly than I could have ever expected.

Before today, the last time we had interacted was the fourth of July 1954. Pop-pop, Bailey, and her mother, Mary, found our own little quiet copse on the edge of the lake to watch the town's fireworks and have a little barbecue of all the little gluegil and sunfish Bailey and I had pulled from the water that day.

That was the same year her mother was attacked. It had happened after I had returned to Father's house after the summer. I still remember how much it hurt knowing Bailey was gone when I returned that hunting season; Pop-pop even drove me out to their home to see the darkened windows and unkempt yard. That sight had convinced me she was gone for good.

“Bailey,” I smiled, returning the hug she had given me. “It is amazing to see you again,” I said, tightening the hug, holding her like she was a dream that would vanish the moment my eyes opened.

“Same,” Bailey replied, clinging to me like I was keeping her centered in the universe. It was a tight embrace, one that felt strange, not wrong, but like me, offering her that skinship was needed in a way I did not fully understand.

“What were you looking for Clayton for anyway?” I asked, loosening the embrace and stepping back. Bailey's hands lingered, running along my sides as I backed up, like she could not quite let me go yet again.

The joy of reuniting with a friend she had not seen in years vanished in an instant, replaced by a look I was familiar with. Many times when we were kids, she had that look. Usually, it was when her mother was not going to allow her to stay over or go camping, but it always signaled that there was something that would be near impossible to explain.

“Come on, let's sit down. I will make you something warm to drink,” I smiled, walking her toward the small table attached to the kitchen. It was hardly a table, more of a plank of wood with some legs barely fitted, but it did the job, and I was damn happy with it when I first built it. That it was still standing five years later was a miracle.

We crossed the room, that contemplative look never quite leaving her surprisingly beautiful face. Not that her being beautiful was surprising, but that my friend, that little girl I had vivid memories of her throwing a lob of mud at my face, had grown up to be so stunning. I could practically see her on the front of a Sears catalog.

Bailey kept staring at me with such intensity that I could still feel her eyes lingering on me while heating that morning's cold coffee on the stove or retrieving the milk from the ice chest. I swore there was a packet of bacon in there, but I guess I must have forgotten to pack one. I would just have to pick one up when I went into town.

Once we were both seated, a warm cup of joe in hand, we sat in lingering silence. I did not pressure Bailey about the topic. That she was struggling to find a way to broach the topic was obvious. She would look at me, out the window, back at the coffee, then to me once again, all while shifting nervously in place.

While waiting, I theory-crafted. It was hard not to. A man finds his long-lost friend outside his cabin late at night in the snow. It sounded like the setup for a bad pulp novel, not real life. My itching imagination conjured tales from mafia bosses wishing for Bailey to sleep with the fishes to elopement from Arabian princes' harems. Were they far-fetched? Of course, but still, with nothing solid to bite into, my feral imagination needed sating somehow.

I was nearing the bottom of my second mugful when Bailey at last spoke up.

“So my mom...we have been running since you last saw me,” Bailey said nearly silently. I leaned in closer to hear. “That man. Jackson has been chasing us since he learned the truth?”

Bailey white-knuckled the mug, a slight tremor in her hands. I reached over and rested a hand against her, giving her something to steady against. She released the mug with that hand and squeezed mine, taking in a deep breath.

“What truth? Did he think your mom and he were in a relationship or something?” I said, my mind racing with a fresh wave of mythical ideas about Bailey's mom and Jackson traveling around the country, stealing from banks, robbing armored cars, and tucking the money underneath their homes between heists.

Her face soured, and she tightened her grip. “No, that monster could never love anyone, especially not my mom. He chased us all around the country just because we are different. It's not like we had ever hurt anyone or done anything. We just wanted to live a calm and quiet life here. Was that so much to ask?”

“I don't think so,” I replied. While I did not know exactly what kind of prejudice Bailey and her mom were facing, I was not one to judge based on something immutable. I did fully understand how many people in America were steeped in ignorance, arrogance, and outright hate of the other.

It was all over the news, the indifferent treatment of all forms of progress around the nation. I remember people at the local soda shop booing Dr. King's I Have a Dream speech just a few months ago.

“See? Mom was right about you and Clayton. Even knowing what we are, neither of you ever treated us differently.”

“Knowing what you are?”

“Yeah, we are werewolves.”

“Pardon?”

“Well, yeah. Mom and I are werewolves. That is why Jackson started chasing us, and why he...” Bailey paused, tears silently rolling down her cheeks. Before I could ask her to elaborate about what she meant by werewolves and Jackson, she was crying, not a little sob, full-on body-wracking crying. She pushed her head into her crossed arms on the table, calling out for her mother between each retch.

I reached back across the table and patted Bailey on the shoulder, trying to offer her whatever comfort I could. I didn't believe what she had to say about werewolves; that was just flat-out hokey. Werewolves were not real, and you did not need to be a scholar of penny dreadfuls and monster pictures to know that. The Wolf Man cometh, The Werewolf of Paris, even The Wolf's Bride were all books Pop-pop had read to me growing up. I knew they were little more than fictitious tales of whimsy and woe.

I had loved them enough to have sought out additional tales in magazines. Most were nothing more than pulp excursions about men of Conan’s strength and will slaughtering the beasts while rending flesh with silvered swords. They were sufficiently entertaining at least.

That Bailey might have a slightly less-than-stable perspective on reality did not matter at this exact moment. That look in her eyes was very real. That pain was genuine. I could not say if her mother had died, or if Jackson—a man who might as well be the boogeyman was after her; either way, I would keep her safe for the time being. First thing in the morning, I would take her to town and to someone more qualified.

“It’s alright. You’re safe here.” I assured. “We can talk more about it in the morning. For now, how about we get some rest? You are likely still exhausted. That sounds good?”

Bailey nodded while sniffling.

We finished our coffee, and I escorted her to the bedroom, letting her know that the outhouse was just outside, to the right of the cabin. I stayed on the couch in the main room. As I sat there, a single candle, my only illumination, cast dancing shadows across the pictures. I looked at Pop-pop smiling happily, right beside Bailey and her mother. For just a moment, I wondered if she was telling the whole truth.

After all I had seen. I wondered. There were those bipedal tracks that led right to her. She had survived half-naked in a blizzard. None of that should be possible—but she was still alive. I shook the lingering thought away once I realized I had subconsciously reached for the side-by-side.

Bailey had suffered unimaginable trauma. Exhaustion, grief, and shock could make anyone believe impossible things. That had to be the answer.

“Why did you have to tell me all those tall tales?” I chuckled at the picture.

--------

So another chapter down. It is time to escalate things starting next chapter, we are damn near halfway through this little novella's length at this point. But don't worry we are going to see some werewolf and hunter fighting as we go.

Please don't forget to updoot and comment. I will see you in the chat.

-Colin

------

First

Prev

Decades passed eventually turning into centuries. Many humans came and went, and I had learned to keep a distance, out of fear of once again getting burned by their brilliance. Or maybe more accurately, out of fear of getting used to their warmth and losing it all once again.

The darkness felt so much colder when you had experienced light after all.

We had made a pitstop at a mining colony planet. It was mostly sand and mountains, with only a few rivers and lakes, around which larger settlements had been built.

We however, had landed near a mine to load cargo.

With nothing to do while we were on the ground, I decided to take a look around and go exploring the planet's surface a bit to clear my mind.

The desert felt like it stretched endlessly. A scorching blue star glared silently above the horizon, casting harsh distorted shadows, and the dry wind formed sand into giant waves that flowed and rumbled with each step.

The planet breathed in its own slow way. Shifting, reforming, never settling. Yet none of it felt alive. It was motion without a pulse. Change without growth.

Time itself seemed to hold still, even as everything around me kept drifting and reshaping itself into something new.

There was something in that stillness and hollow emptiness that drew me in deeper.

So I kept walking. My feet carried me over ridge after ridge without a destination.

Half-buried in the dunes, I saw an immense frame reminiscent of some ancient monument jutting out of the sand. The skeleton of a star ray. Bones that had once no doubt been transparent like crystal, had now weathered to be stone as white as ivory.

It was incredibly valuable. Priceless even. A find like this could easily earn enough to last lifetimes. And fame of being the one to discover it could get you into pages of history books. The xenobiology community would give anything for it.

But at the end of the day, I didn't want to disturb its rest.

I had once watched them dance through the void, alongside the brightest friend I had ever made.

Back then they felt almost eternal.

previous

Part 181 Influencing events (Part 1) (Part 180)

[Support me of Ko-fi so I can get some character art commissioned and totally not buy a bunch of gundams and toys for my dog]

“Yes, I would enjoy that.” Morning Dew answered the question he had just been asked between bites of the unfamiliar but delicious fruit he was consuming.

“Are you sure?” Though Atxika's tone didn't come across as a warning, the fact she even asked that follow up gave the orangutan a real moment of pause. “Because you don't have to do anything you don't want to. You are a sapient being. That means you have the right to say no to anything you don't want to do.”

“Is there a reason I should say no?” The young orange furred man looked towards the other two Qui’ztars seated at the table but saw that both were far more focused on their food than this discussion. “Zikazoma? Chuxima? Do you two have any older sister advice for me?”

“I mean, Jytvahrs are usually nice enough people.” Zika half covered her mouth full of steak and only gave a half-hearted reply. “You do whatever you want and you'll have your back.”

“Most Jytvahrs are, as my love said, nice enough people.” Chu felt the need to expand just a bit but not enough to sway Morning Dew's choice in any direction. “But we are talking about your potential official meeting with diplomats from one of the four founding species. That has implications that may be outside your perspective. That being said, it is ultimately up to you to decide if you want to take this step for your species. Just know that Zika and I will support you no matter what you choose.”

Upon hearing that more informative context for Atxika's question, Morning Dew momentarily fell into silent contemplation. The young orangutan man really didn't seem too different from humans to Zika and Chu when it came to normal small talk and relatively shallow conversation. It was also obvious to them that this particular orange-furred being would simply accept, dismiss, or just ignore things he found too complicated when he could. But that isn't too out of place for sapient beings. Both of them would do the same thing under certain circumstances. But when it came to discussions he couldn't avoid, particularly those that required truly deep thought, the pair of Qui’ztars noticed Morning Dew would become almost eerily quiet.

One of things that TJ had warned everyone about is the fact that orangutans have smaller brains and slower neural processing speeds compared to humans. Morning Dew and other members of his species simply require more time to fully wrap their minds around complex subjects than some other intelligent forms of life in the galaxy. If degrees of sapience were to be put on a scale of one to ten with Singularity Entities at a ten and the average human or Qui’ztar at a five or six, most orangutans would be closer to a three. Still far more than a smart animal but certainly nowhere near the level of a true genius.

That's why Atxika, Zikazoma, and Chuxima were more than understanding when Morning Dew fell silent. He genuinely needed time to think this through. In fact, anyone would when presented with a conundrum like this. A Jytvahr ambassador had gotten word that the young orangutan man would be on Ten'yiosh for a couple days before returning to Earth and wanted to set up a meeting. Even a Singularity Entity would require a moment to contemplate the choice if they were in Morning Dew's position. So the trio of Qui’ztars simply showed the young orange furred man the consideration they would hope other species would grant to them.

“If meeting a Jytvahr envoy from the embassy on your world could impact my people's future…” Morning Dew picked up his half eaten fruit and began speaking after almost a full minute of silent thought. “Then will it also impact the future of humans too?”

“Well… Yes…” A subtle and surprised smile formed on Atxika's deep blue lips. “But that shouldn't really affect your choice. The humans on Earth and Mars will be judged based on their own choices. They will ultimately decide their own future regardless of what you choose.. The only thing you should worry about is your own species.”

“What if I make a decision the humans don't like and they-” Morning Dew didn't get a chance to finish his thought before Zikazoma cut off with a deep roar.

“I will personally-!”

“Like we said, Morning Dew…” Chuxima instantly leaned over to quell her partner's sudden rage with a gentle hand on her thigh. “We will support you no matter what you choose. If that means fighting to defend you and your people from humans, we will happily do so.”

“Count me in! I'll kick their ass!” With the conversation getting so serious, the orangutan and Qui’ztars didn't notice Menashka-Ngwagen stealthily approaching their table with a tray of food in her hands until she plopped down right next to Morning Dew. “The Nishnabe Militia is not afraid to defend our cousins even if that means fighting our cousins. You might not be human, my orange friend, but you're close enough. Any humans who fuck around will find out!”

“Will you protect my elephant friends too?” Genuine concern was written all over the young male orangutan's face.

“We already are.” Nashka's rainbow eyes flashed as she made a finger-gun motion towards the Qui’ztar Fleet Admiral, whose tablet suddenly made a loud notification ding. “Msko wanted me to send you that, Atxika. It's not technically an official correspondence between the UHDF and Third Matriarchy but… You took a personal interest and we wanted to keep you in the loop. Long story short, NAN's been making progress on their translator experiment. So much so that they've caught the attention of Earth governments and begun acting as a mediator of sorts on a local level. But they are still refusing to officially meet with national governments on Earth until after our address to UN-E. And, uh… That might also be affecting the other thing Mik told you about yesterday.”

“You don't have to make any decision now, Morning Dew.” Atxika acknowledged Nashka and her quick brief with a smirk and nod before concluding the previous conversation so she could pull out her tablet without coming across as rude. “Take your time and think it over. I'll ask again in a couple days. And as for my Matriarchy's official position on protecting your people, I will need to wait for my government to vote on that.”

“I do want to meet the Jytvahrs.” Morning had already made his mind when Zika and Chu made the extent of their support clear. Nashka's backing only solidified his decision. “And can I meet with someone from your government too, Atxika? I won't ask them for anything. I just want to tell them how good you and Zikazoma and Chuxima have been to me.”

/----------------------------------------------------------------------

Like most of the other oligarchs attending the conference of economic elites taking place in a secure bunker in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, Amelia du Pont doesn't claim ownership of any corporate giant. Instead, she holds the controlling stake in an investment firm with hundreds of different investment avenues. While she may not directly hold the reins of any of the most powerful companies on Earth, her little fingers stretch through the entirety of Earth’s economy. Little tugs here and subtle pokes there are usually all she would need to do to retain her family's wealth and status. When problems pop up that require a more direct approach, she can call upon resources so separate from one another that no one would be able to connect her to any of it.

After almost two full days planning with her peers of economic peerage, Amelia felt confident her work was going to pay off. She had shook hands and made deals, played into people's strengths and weaknesses alike, and concocted a scheme so grand that failure seemed impossible. All that was really needed now was a bit of morale boosting and stroking of egos. After all, confidence is key to any business interaction. In her mind, that's all this conference and the circumstances that prompted it boiled down to. The governments of Earth were given an offer they believed they couldn't refuse. All the heir to the Du Pont fortune and her colleagues needed to do was present an even more enticing alternative.

“Ah, Amelia! There you are!” Though the voice that called out Amelia sounded somewhat young, she knew the person was actually in their mid-forties. “My father and I were hoping to speak with you for a moment.”

“If it isn't Celestine and Renaldo Montemorency.” Despite being annoyed that her alone time was being interrupted, the heir to the du Pont fortune raised her cocktail to greet the father and daughter who came to speak with her. “I've heard things at A New Dawn haven't quite been all sunshine and roses since you were visited by the invaders. Is that true?”

“Those stupid Nishnabes, their blue alien friends, and that fucking Martian hick ruined-!” Celestine's rant was cut off by her father placing a firm hand on her shoulder.

“Now, now, Celestine. Using such language is below us.” Renaldo Montemorency, a man in his late sixties but looked thirty thanks to cybernetic augmentations, chided his daughter with a playful inflection. “But, uh… Sadly things on A New Dawn are not all sunshine and roses. Our, uh… Guests… They not only demanded we relinquish some extremely high value assets from our zoo but also threatened my daughter with an illegal arrest if she didn't comply. I cannot tolerate such behavior. Especially when it is directed at someone so dear to me.”

“I take that to mean you are here representing A New Dawn's board of trustees, Renaldo.” Amelia had spent most the past two days on people with the real big fish and thus hadn't had time to interact with small fries like these two.

“That we are…” The deeply vain man made a delicate motion towards the empty chairs surrounding the table Amelia sat at alone. “Do you mind if we take a seat and discuss some things with you? I believe we can provide assistance towards achieving our mutual goals.”

“Please do.” A nod and gentle sway of her open hand were all the respect Amelia could muster in this moment before taking a sip of her golden cocktail. “I would like to hear how you see our goals aligning and what you can do to ensure their success.”

“I want that Martian and his demon of a dog dead!” Celestine half-shouted the moment her rear end touched the plush cushion of the chair. “The dog first!”

“Oh my!” The laugh that slipped through Amelia's lips caused a few of the gold flakes to fly off. “Who is this man and what did his dog do to deserve your ire, my sweet Celestine?”

“The man's name is Mikhail Tecumseh River.” Renaldo opened his briefcase and pulled out a physical folder which he slid towards Amelia. “He is a professor of Theoretical Physics at the Aram Chaos University on Mars and, more importantly, the current civilian council member of the so-called United Human Defense Fleet. It is his fault we are in this situation. We also believe that he has been the deciding vote that has led to several of the inconveniences we are currently experiencing. Please take a look at this and let me know what you need to make this problem go away.”

“Let's see here…” Unlike most of the other attendees of this conference, Amelia was used to reading intel physically printed on paper. “Oh… The man who thrust us on to, as the invaders say, the galactic stage. The son of the Red Dragon and the grandson of Aram's president. That's quite the family he had. And this… My, this isn't a dog, fallabella pony! Pure bred Cane Corsos are quite expensive. He must have used his grandfather's connections to acquire such a beast. I hope he's had it neutered otherwise I'd say killing it would be a waste of good breeding stock. Perhaps I should be sure that a DNA sample is taken so I can clone it.”

“We have confirmation that this man and his dog will be in New York for the upcoming address to the UN.” It wasn't hard for Renaldo to tell that Amelia was teasing his daughter but also knew that he had no one better to help solve his problem. “I am prepared to put a fifty million Eu-D bounty on his head with another fifty million bonus if the last thing he sees is his dog dead.”

“Tell me, Celestine.” Amelia lifted her gaze off the documents just long enough to smirk at the forty-something woman pretending to be eternally youthful. “Are you really so angry that this man took away your elephants that you want to waste time and money torturing him before killing him? Wouldn't it be more efficient to simply end his worthless existence without all the trouble? And what about the Nishnabes and aliens who took so many attractions from your precious zoo? Are you willing to spend these kinds of resources on them as well?”

“Of course! That's why-”

“That's precisely why we've come to you with this instead of trying to go it alone.” Renaldo cut Celestine off and attempted to pull Amelia's attention back to him to keep his daughter from saying the wrong thing. “A New Dawn's board of trustees has given me full authorization to pull from our company’s liquid assets to make sure our mutual problem is solved.”

“Could you please articulate to me exactly what you believe our mutual problems and goals are, Renaldo?”

“Put simply, Madam du Pont, the problem we are all facing is the invasion of savages who claim to be human and demand we give up our wealth, power, and influence. Our goal is to ensure that doesn't happen.”

“You're thinking too small.” Celestine had already skimmed through the papers she had been given, found what she needed, and closed the folder. The only left for her in this conversation was to get the rest of what she wanted from these two and the organization they represent. “But first of all, a hundred million Eu-D is hardly enough of an investment in this venture. Most of the others I have spoken to promised tens of billions.”

“Like I said, the board-” Before Renaldo could counter that first point, Amelia interrupted by raising her hand in a stop motion.

“Second… Our problems are not limited to something so simple as a forced alteration in our lifestyle. Our entire world and the balance of power at its core has already been irrevocably changed. The golden shackles we have used to control the plebs are no longer restraining them. Governments who once followed us like loyal hounds have gone off leash and no longer heed our commands. Killing one man and his dog won't solve that. And as for our goals… Well… We can't simply go back to the old status quo. The invaders have technologies that we thought of as fiction, weapons we have no current counters for, and somehow won over the hearts and minds of the simpletons who maintain our economy. If our goals don't include obtaining all of that from those savage invaders, any victory we achieve will be short lived. That is why we must be more tactful in our approach. A simple assassination may only create a martyr.”

“That fucking hick needs to die!” Celestine's sudden outburst caused her father to pinch the bridge of her nose and Amelia to let out a delicate chuckle.

“Don't get me wrong, Celestine. I agree with you. But the adults are talking now.” Amelia slid the closed folder back to Renaldo then pulled out a folder of her own from the briefcase she had hidden under the table. “While I am very glad to see you've done your research, Renaldo, the only new information I saw was that Professor River’s dog is a pure bred Cane Corso. I had assumed it was just some kind of oversized Martian mutt just like him. But if you are serious about investing in the New York venture, then you'll need to bring more to this table than just a hundred million Eu-D.”

“A New Dawn’s security staff includes some rather well trained, heavily augmented, and extremely monetarily motivated individuals.” Mr. Montemorency put the first folder back into his briefcase and retrieved a second with a large red stamp on the front. “This contains the personnel profiles for the top ten agents whom I believe would be best qualified for a joint venture. I would even be willing to transfer their work contracts over your family's company after our affairs are successfully concluded.”

“Now you have interest.” Amelia smirked as she reached forward, opened the folder, and began flipping through the printed pages. “Very interesting indeed… Special forces from across the world… Special field agents from a few three letter agencies… Oh, and is this a black hat hacksmith? Can’t lock many of those into work contracts nowadays. These are the kind of resources that could serve as excellent contributions to this venture.”

“I'm glad to hear you can see the value of this offer.”

“Oh, yes… I may need to introduce you to a few people so we can get the ball rolling on this. But before that, let's get you two a drink."

Chapter 1 

Synopsis:

Soul Unravelling: Unravel the soul of your prey and absorb their Cultivation.

Weaver is a forgotten class, and its only skill is considered a Lost Skill. 

Lost means no one alive used it, and, in a world where Ascedants live for tens of thousands of years, it meant all its previous owners had been erased from existence, either by the gods themselves or the Empire. 

Liesel doesn't know what The Weaver Class is supposed to mean, but she can read the skill's description and its promise of an infinite growth potential. 

After a lifetime of being cursed with no future, there is no way Liesel can refuse this opportunity. 

With an unflinching conviction, a taste for battle, and a blood-hungry sword by her side, Liesel is prepared to walk the forgotten path, no matter the danger. 

But why does she keep finding herself tied to the 'Soulweaver', a word that yet doesn't mean anything?

----

The story is about a warrior raised to be one of the strongest assets of the Empire, a Crusader General. All that training was wasted when Liesel's affliction came to light. Her soul couldn't grow in a world where all magic stems from it. Forced to drop out of the academy, Liesel had a choice between living a normal life or pursuing the life she had no future in. She chose later. 

The story starts at the point where Liesel earns a second chance to walk the path of magic. It focuses on battles, its consequences, and the in-between moments between those high-stakes battles, on the human who knows only one life, one that never rests. How far can an unrelenting spirit take someone? 

What to expect:

- Average to Strong  
- A Clever and Resourceful Protagonist with plenty of room for growth, both personally and magically
- Taking souls of the dead and using them to acquire magic and strength
- Focus on Cultivation and Skills Mechanics

Schedule: M-F

------

Chapter 4

“There's one,” Auram pointed towards the west. “It's giant.”

Liesel nodded. It was morning again, and Auram offered to fly into the sky to look for a town, possibly a human settlement. “Thank you.”

“But it's far. Like weeks far.”

Liesel didn't think she could take the spirit's word at face value. Their sense of scale should be very different after all. For all she knew, what Auram considered weeks, for her, who'd need to hunt food, always find a source of water, and had to walk on foot, might be months. She hoped Auram was overestimating the distance.

Regardless, before they left for the city, Liesel wanted to find a source of water. She again asked Auram to look for it. Fortunately, it was southwest, so they angled towards it first.

A part of her was tired enough that she wanted to just lie on the mossy bed in the shade of the broken temple for the day. Of course, that would be foolish. Without food and water, tomorrow would be worse than today. At least, right now, she had the energy to hunt for something to eat. 

In the end, Liesel decided to make her way towards the river. Having a spirit was great, at least in the forest without a map. 

“Will you stay quiet the entire day?” Auram uttered after a while of flying in silence.

“Is there something you want to ask?” Liesel replied. She hadn't heard a single creature the entire time. That was odd. Not even tweets of the birds. She kept her sword drawn, just in case. The steel had a tint of black on its surface that seemed to be permanent. Fortunately, her Materiality was at maximum capacity. 

“What do you want to do after your soul is fixed, and you have a Materiality Core?”

Liesel considered for a moment. “I never thought about such a hopeful yet hollow future. Now, it seems to be within my reach, but after… that's a little too hopeful. I don't know." 

“You must've wanted to be something before, right?”

“A respectable title for myself,” Liesel said. “And a job that would be enough to… Of course, that never came to pass. I had a very different view of the Laks Empire back then. So those imaginations are better left with the past me.”

“If you don't have anything… How did you even survive against the Mindeater? Don't you need to be very strong, I don't know, will or something?” Auram frowned.

“Quite the contrary, our reality is. The will without the strength is a liability. A hollow husk with the dullest mind is more likely to survive against a Mindeater than someone with strong convictions and a desire to live.” Liesel said.

“Is that what you are?”

“I don't know,” Liesel replied. For the moment, she didn't have anything but her name.

“You need a psychic to fix your gloomy mind.”

“What do you want, Auram?” Liesel asked. 

“I… I just want to spend my time flying around freely, I guess. You see, I am a spirit. We don't really have human goals.”

“That's curious,” Liesel nodded, “though I wouldn't say most humans have any aspirations beyond having a nice place to live and nice food to eat.”

Liesel might be part of that group. At the same time, she did join the Soul Seekers for a purpose beyond that life. 

Auram was the one guiding Liesel, so she kept flying up every so often to keep them from losing sight of it.

Liesel's soul soared when she heard the flowing river. She filled the water sack. It was enchanted with purification magic. Injecting a tiny amount of Materiality purified it instantly. The Rand Company had not been expecting the expedition to be a day's endeavor, though the trouble on the first floor forced them to abandon most of the rations. In hindsight, it had been a day's adventure, but for all the wrong reasons. She didn't pick up any kind of ration from her colleagues' corpses either. She hadn't been in her best mindset.

She looked over at the spirit, who was staring at her reflection in the flowing water. “Do you drink water?”

“Not really,” Auram shrugged. “I can eat Materiality.”

“Oh,” Liesel nodded. “That's kind of nice.”

Liesel took off her hooded cloak and then the vest underneath it. She didn't wear armor. They were expensive, and secondly, she couldn't stand the constricting feeling they gave her, which was an awfully irrational way to think about it, but hey, she was the only one who survived, so she could pat herself on the back for being right. 

She gathered a handful of dirt and picked out any sharp grains or thorns from it.

“What are you doing?” Auram asked like a child.

“Washing the blood off my face,” Liesel spread the dirt on her face. It was not pleasant by any means. She was using the dirt by the riverbank, but still she preferred it over the feeling of dried blood chipping from her face every time she spoke. Her shoulder wound had completely healed, but there was a patch of blood around it, too. 

“Whoa…” Auram mumbled after Liesel washed off the dirt. “You look like a normal person.”

“Thank you?” Liesel raised a brow. She didn't want to become too lax, though. Something might be lurking in the shadow of the forest. 

Once her skin was dry again, she put on her clothes. “Let's go.”

“Are we going to the town?” Auram asked, flapping her wing.

“We can worry about that after I find something to eat,” Liesel replied.

They continued down the river, staying close to the bank. She hoped there would be fish down the stream. She could hear birds chirping after a little while when she was a little farther away from the Necropolis. 

"Humans are weird creatures. Like you need water, and then you need other living things to feed on. And then you need Materiality to use magic. I mean no disrespect, but you all seriously need to reconsider your biological inefficiency."

Liesel surrendered without a word. Auram was proud for a while after that. The spirit couldn't stay calm for a moment. Either she kept talking about something as if it were her first time in the human realm, or she flew away to observe different insects or trees.

They found a small alcove in the river. It was shallow, but calm. Liesel spotted a few small fish in it, none that she recognized. They seemed safe to consume.

As she hurried towards it, Auram pulled a strand of her hair. "Wait," she hissed quietly.

Liesel stopped, looking back at the spirit curiously.

"There's something…" Auram pointed, but by then Liesel could hear a beast dashing towards them.

Through the tall bushes, a giant bear leapt out, growling.

"Go up," Liesel said as she spread Materiality into her limbs. Auram flapped her wing and vanished in a puff of smoke. Knowing that the spirit could teleport back to the Custodian's side anytime, Liesel felt a little relieved about her situation. 

It seemed like a normal bear, only abnormally huge. There was a patch of white fur on its forehead in the shape of a half moon. Its claws shone, blaring an alarm in Liesel's mind. 

As it swiped the claw in the air, the shining light turned into blades, rushing towards her. 

Liesel wrapped the Materiality around her feet, Enforcing it, and stepped aside. The claw blades dug into the tree behind her, leaving deep gnashes. 

[Materiality -2.3]

Liesel didn't know how to fight an animal. It was not a demon after all. 

"Did I intrude on a hunting spot?" Liesel asked.

Roaring, the bear dashed towards her. As it reached her, Liesel Enforced her limbs again, burning Materiality would momentarily raise her movement speed. She stepped to the side, dodging the beast, and slashed her sword in a wide arc. It cleft through the side of its abdomen with ease, drawing blood like a tail behind the sword's tip.

The beast growled, swiping its claw at her. Liesel swung again, cutting at its elbow. It recoiled away. Snarling, the beast stood on its hind legs.

As it turned out, Liesel pushed a little more Materiality into her sword, which started vibrating. That should kill.

She lunged forward, the steel flashed in a cursed black glint, as it cut across its upper chest and belly. The bear fell on its back like a giant turtle, struggling to move. It was a little too big for Liesel to effectively kill it. She hated that she was putting it through unnecessary pain when she could've taken a slightly riskier approach and taken off its head in the first strike. 

She circled around its body as it tried to climb back up. An Enforced sword strike sent Materiality coursing through the target's body, and that paralyzed the victim for a moment as it tried to fight off the wild energy in its soul. Liesel had time to be careful.

She stood beside its head and lifted her sword. 

"Stop!" Auram teleported in front of her.

"I know, it might seem cruel," Liesel said, "But it's already injured. If I don't kill it, Auram, then it would die over the course of a week, while its wound rots and hunger consumes its body from within," Liesel said.

The bear was completely pacified after Auram appeared, though.

"It's fine," Auram said as she lowered herself in front of the beast. "I will heal its wound."

Liesel blinked. She lowered her sword.

[Materiality -15]

Liesel clicked her tongue; she had wasted a lot of Materiality. "It is not the last animal that tries to harm us. If you want to heal every animal I hurt, then you should heal it and then go back to the library."

"I don't," Auram shook her head, as she flapped her wings over the bear's belly. Dust fell from it that seemed to be healing the laceration. "It's special, you know. A moonblessed is a very rare breed of animal. It is a bad omen to kill them."

"What kind of bad omen?" Liesel asked. Now that she had spent a moment looking at its face, Liesel didn't think she had it in her to kill it anymore. It seemed like a dog, a rather well-fed and groomed dog. Having an image of a wild beast was somewhat necessary to land the killing blow. Of course, if it tried to attack her again, things would be easier. 

"Well, a moonblessed is kind of like half spirit, so you can say it is my sibling."

"I wouldn't call every stranger that I meet my half-sibling, even when they are fully human," Liesel said. 

"And killing moonblessed, I've heard, starts the Ashening Plague." 

"That can't be right."

"I don't know. It's not just another wild beast," Auram argued. Her wings were losing their golden luster.

"I won't kill it," Liesel nodded. "But it is a wild beast. And are you sure you can heal its wounds? Your own body is losing much of its luster."

"That's just temporary. Glow is like… make-up in human terms. I don't really have a better use for Materiality in my body, well, except for this moment," Auram stopped glowing all at once. She still looked the same, but much more like a normal creature that could easily assimilate into the surrounding area like a butterfly from afar. From up close, Auram was more of a tiny human with wings, though. "A Moonblessed is, as the name suggests, an animal that is gazed upon by the moon goddess. They tend to have the potential to become more than just an animal after forming a Materiality core, I think."

"If it can be more, then it should learn fighting, and also who to pick fights with," Liesel chuckled. She still didn't feel comfortable turning her back on it. But she wanted to focus on the fish now, rather than an overgrown forest dog.

She took a step closer to the moonblessed bear, and it tried to scoot away. Liesel smiled. "Look. You are a useless bear. So, I have a proposition for you," she rested her blade on its neck. "You are going to be my steed. Or I will flay you like a fish." 

It shivered when she hissed.

"Stop scaring him," Auram complained. "I will convince him that you want him to tag along with us."

"I don't," Liesel replied. "I want it to be a temporary steed, because my human feet are not fond of walking for weeks."

Liesel was pretty sure that whatever the bear someday might become, she had left a lifelong traumatic memory for him. She didn't feel bad about it. It attacked first. She went over to pick out the fish.

[Materiality +0.6]

It was sad that she had basically emptied half the pond to replenish her Materiality. But she was sure they could cook it all. Auram complained that they didn't need that much food, but Liesel argued she could recover her Materiality from the spirit's newfound pet. For someone ten times Liesel's age, Auram acted more like a child and a young teen. And Liesel didn't know what to think about a giant bear hiding behind a palm-sized spirit.

At least, Auram could talk to the bear on some instinctual level.

It was shivering when Liesel climbed on its back. There was nothing to hold onto, and once it started walking, she slipped off its rotund back. Liesel gave up. She couldn't stay on its top without digging her fingers into its fur, and that seemed unnecessarily cruel.

"We are going to need a makeshift saddle first," Liesel whispered. Things, however, were looking better for tomorrow.

---

Thank you for reading!

Upto Chapter 26 is already uploaded on Royal Road: Link

Upto Chapter 43 is uploaded on Patreon: Link