I move abruptly, sliding past Ayre smoothly, and wrapping my left arm around Lilly gently. At her size and weight, holding her up is pretty trivial, but her head lolls forward onto my chest with a vacant smile as she settles. It sparks a peculiar feeling that leaves me staring at her for a few seconds without saying anything or really even thinking anything. She looks peaceful after the last couple days of looking and feeling stressed and uncertain. I’ve been noticing that her essence density has been off — by a considerable margin, even. I doubt that it's something that I or anyone else might notice were it not for my circumstances and sensitivity to essence. It had been making me really worried that it might be related to leaving her homeland where the essence she uses is abundant, but it seems like it might have just been something else. It’s relieving.
After she spoke, I felt something warm, something comforting, passing between the two of us. It felt… “pink”. I think that’s the only way I can describe it. It felt warm and pink. It passed along a feeling of comfort and contentment with the words that cleared up the majority of the despair and sadness I’d been falling away into while Ayre soothed me.
What she’d been saying was working a small wonder on my mindset. Words I think I really needed to hear following words that I really needed to say. Ayre salved my mind. But Lilly did something more…fundamental. Something I’m not sure how to describe.
“You going to stand there and stare at her all night or…?” Ayre’s words come across the room with a teasing smile. “I know she’s pretty and dramatic, but you could probably stand to at least lay her down.”
Shooting Ayre a sheepish smile, I ask, “Mind helping? I can’t really pull off “carrying a person” without unceremoniously throwing them over my shoulder and that feels a bit inappropriate to do to Lilly.”
She rolls her eyes before padding over to lift the rather light Lilly into both of her arms. I watch for a moment, appreciating the figure Ayre strikes when carrying someone. She tucks her wings in, seeming to cradle her charge in them almost like an eggshell, and moves with a gentleness of action that I don't think most people would think her capable of with her viciously clawed hands and powerful build.
She's capable of violence, for sure. Quite good at it, too. Even enjoys fighting more than most. But since leaving her home and when she's at rest, she's gained an erudite sort of calm and gentleness about her that I've come to appreciate.
It comes out the most when she's lecturing, I think.
She settles Lilly onto her bed after pulling the veritable mountain of blankets aside to make room for her. After tucking her in and some additional doting to ensure she's as comfortable as possible, she turns back to me.
I move to my own bed and sit, sliding the sleeve back on. I have to stop though, taking in the arm more fully since I hadn't been paying the best attention earlier. The crystalline flesh looks sickly, though I don't feel any particular way… I think, at least.
The red rivulets of some other type of essence pulse regularly through the mottled crystalline flesh, almost like a heartbeat. Though it's decidedly out of time with my own. That particular realization feels deeply concerning in a way that's hard to shake, so I just try to unthink that particular thought as best I can. Luckily, Ayre provides a timely distraction for me.
“When did it start looking like that? I've been around it for weeks now, and I've never seen it not look like a pure crystalline purple before.” Ayre marches over and sits on the opposite side of my bed, back to back. I feel her thick tail slide alongside my left leg, needing somewhere to go given our current position.
“It happened at some point since I've started wearing the sleeve. Though I don't feel like it's related. Not directly at least." I offer, leaning back and bumping against her. This felt nice last time. Sitting on the stump in the aftermath of me revealing more of what I've been dealing with. I wonder if she likes this as well? Maybe finds it easier to talk without us looking directly at one another?
“What makes you say that? Logic would say that, since it started once you started wearing it, it's probably related, right?”
“That makes logical sense, sure. But it's just something I know, I think. I started wearing the sleeve at the same time that I used a ton of borrowed abilities in rapid succession.” I lean back more firmly, testing the waters for how she'll react. Obligingly, she matches like for like until we're both supporting one another's weight. “But if I use an ability without having consumed something recently, I feel something be taken away. I can't really describe it because it's not uncomfortable or painful. I just feel a sense of loss.”
“Then you should probably ‘eat’ something, then. And I mean in the way it actually benefits you. I know you've been trying to avoid it as much as possible, but it's an easy test to run, and you'd be foolish to not confirm it one way or the other.” She pauses, giving me a significant look, “And, in point of fact, if that’s something you need to be doing to be safe, you need to do it. Feelings be damned; I care more about you being well than I do a little bit of personal squeamishness.”
The demand is eminently reasonable. I know that. It makes perfect sense. I can’t argue against it. So I do the most reasonable thing anyone in a similarly uncomfortable situation might do. I put it off. “In the morning, then. I’m too tired and sore to want to do anything remotely strenuous or risky.”
She stands abruptly, causing me to fall backwards into now open air and flat onto the bed. After turning and giving me serious side eye for a few moments, she sighs and relents. “Fine. In the morning then. I’m going to take a shower — turns out that’s the word, by the way — and then go to bed myself. No peeking.”
“No chance of that. I expect I’ll pass out the moment my head hits the pillow.” Her comment makes me consider something as I strip my shirt off and lay back. She begins going about her business and I find my eyes drawn in her direction in spite of myself. Not for any unsavory purpose, I just feel a sudden and intense curiosity over her body, with her hands and arms being as inhuman as they are, it makes me curious if that extends farther. Her back is to me, so there's no risk of seeing anything terribly “private”, but still, once I've seen that it appears that most of her body aside from her face is scaled in a two-tone set of copper red-orange and white, I roll over. Sating the curiosity feels viscerally good in a way that's hard to put into words. Newly gained knowledge just simply feels good. It's satiating the way that food seems to be for others.
Thinking on the scene I just watched for a few moments, it makes me think of something. Two somethings, actually, both semi-related. I make an effort to break them down as logically as possible.
One, I think I would like to try out the shower-thing. Ayre sounds happy while she’s in it. And relaxed once she’s not. I will try it tomorrow.
Two, brought on by Ayre’s insinuation and seeing her as exposed as she was: how do I feel about nudity? Ayre and I have both bathed separately in the couple weeks we were staying in her cabin together, but bathing involved a ten-minute walk to the river, so there was never really any risk of us seeing one another like that. Similarly, between Lilly’s innuendo and some of the books I read in Ayre’s cabin, I feel like I’m…supposed to want to see someone like Ayre that way? The descriptions were pretty clear about it all.
So, the question: how do I feel about nudity? Largely indifferent, I think. Ayre is pretty by any metric I’m aware of — as Lilly often makes a point of reminding me — but it’s never really awoken any of those feelings the stories referenced when it comes to her. But maybe it’s just Ayre’s more exotic appearance? Maybe I'm just not into women? That's a thing, right?
I cast a glance over to Lilly, who has rolled over onto her side and tucked one arm up under her pillow and head and seems to be resting comfortably. Her hair seems to glimmer in the low-light conditions, casting small sparkles that emit tiny motes of light from the constant dusting of essence that always falls from her. Looking closer, I notice something I don’t think I ever have before. In the darkness, I can see very faint, almost imperceptible, luminous cracks in her skin.
“Cracks” is maybe the wrong word. My arm is covered in cracks and fissures. Her skin isn’t marred like that. The “cracks” are more akin to particularly thick veins, just ones that move sharply and inorganically. As if someone had shattered a vase and repaired it with golden mortar. It’s…strangely beautiful to look at, and I find my eyes tracing the lines to where they disappear behind her favorite dress.
Something stirs in my heart as I look and notice her crack a very soft and contented smile. A flutter. Something like when Lilly made that promise to me earlier. But without the associated magical exchange spurring it on.
A want suffuses my mind as I look, and the feeling scares me a little, so I roll over the other way and look away from her. It feels similar to what I’ve felt when I’m around things that are particularly essence rich… I think.
There wasn’t any tug from the arm, unlike that normal desire I’ve become accustomed to feeling, but the similarity is terrifying. The last thing I would ever want to do is put Lilly at risk by lingering on thoughts and feelings like that.
“It’s best to lock those thoughts and feelings away. About Ayre and Lilly especially. Besides, I doubt if either of them could really look at me that way anyways.” The thought reminds me of the arm. Which reminds me of the memories. Which reminds me of the dreams.
“No, I’m far too much of a liability for anyone to think like that. Especially the people who know the most about it. It’s the only logical conclusion.” It stings to say to myself, especially in the wake of what Ayre and Lilly were saying, but I think it’s the safest option for everyone, so it’s what I’ll do. “Besides, even if someone felt that way, it would be irresponsible for me to put them in danger by letting them get close. I'm better off staying more aloof.”
I settle onto my stomach to sleep, draping my sleeved arm from the bed where there’s lower odds of anything getting idly touched in the night. But, as I ready to make the effort to let sleep take me, I realize that laying this way has me looking face to face with Lilly only a couple yards away. That feeling stirs again.
There’s no way I’ll be able to sleep if I contort myself enough to not look in that direction, so I opt to reverse my sleeping direction instead. I shift the pillow and blankets around, so I’m hanging off the once-foot of the bed and am more-comfortably staring at a wall as I close my eyes.
The hours speed by and for once, I’m not plagued by nightmares — not quite, at least. Many of the “normal” dreams come. They seem to be shaped and warped by the town we’re staying in. The faces in them are reminiscent of the new people I’ve seen or met. I know some of their names, recognize some of their essence signatures, and can taste the essential construction of the buildings. More information. Data. Things I didn’t really even recognize I noticed over the course of the day. But things like names, I have the feeling that I know when and where I overheard them being said. Just passively taking in information, whether I’m aware of it or otherwise.
But each and every time that the dream would turn into the typical massacre, when my vision becomes the binary of essence and not-essence, a calming sensation passes over me and I feel the “me” in the dream pull back from the ledge. It’s not as successful every time. Some fragments of time see the “process” start and go on for a while. But in the times where I succeed in beginning a harvest of essence, the calming force seems to be only delayed, rather than nonexistent. When it comes, it comes with greater force and wrenches me back into my normal frame of mind.
It’s exhausting and relaxing at the same time. While the dreams are lucid — a fact that has kept me from getting meaningful rest since Ayre and Lilly rescued me — the calming force makes me feel better rested. Almost like it’s working to take the place of the rest I’m not getting.
When morning comes, it comes with a familiar sensation. A perfect beam of light leaking in through the window just at the ideal angle to shine directly on my face. The windows seem to dim incoming light, but the face of the building is directly facing the rising sun, and we didn’t have the forethought to draw the blinds.
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Blinking away the sun's imperious gaze, I open my eyes slowly and turn my head to see Lilly looking at me with a small, idle smile. Daydreaming about something, I guess. She doesn’t seem to notice me rouse, but instead just periodically looks down. Writing or sketching?
When she notices that I’ve woken, her eyes widen as red paints her cheeks, and she looks down into her lap where she seems to be tucking a book or journal beneath her pillow.
“Morning, Lilly?” I hazard a greeting towards the flush-faced fairy.
“Why did you say that like a question?” Her voice comes out sharp as she looks everywhere in the room but at me.
It’s also loud enough to elicit a “Mrnrnhnnn” and a plume of smoke and ash from the dragon on the other side of the room. Sounding like something between a snore and a growl — clearly subconsciously voicing her displeasure at the noisiness. She quickly settles back, though and I have to marvel. She’s mostly flat on her back, but with her hips twisted just a bit to allow her scaled tail to trail off to one side. She’s also once more entirely entangled in the blankets with her wings drawn in close.
Sitting up the rest of the way, I peer over at Lilly’s lap before answering, “I wasn’t sure what you were doing. You were staring at me, so I wanted to give you a little warning instead of risking scaring you.” I smile at her broadly. “What have you got there, anyways?”
Another growl, so I make an effort to lower my voice as I stand from the bed. I close my eyes and stretch up onto my tiptoes and flex my arms high above my head with an arched back. Several deeply satisfying cracks and pops ring out from about my person. I loose a sigh and open my eyes to see Lilly more openly staring at me. She looks entirely gobsmacked, but I’m legitimately not sure why. It leaves me feeling a little embarrassed myself.
“Lilly? I do something wrong?” Her eyes finally track up from my torso to meet my eyes. Which reminds me that I am still shirtless. “Ah.” I turn in place and grab the bloodied and ripped shirt and pull it on. Evidently, Lilly is bothered by that kind of thing. Don’t want to make her uncomfortable, so I’ll deal with the…honestly pretty foul shirt until I can do something about it. “Sorry, forgot I took it off before bed.”
“Olly… I’m not bothered.” She trails a little bit, looking from side to side and speaking quietly. “That shirt is really gross, you could just go without until Ayre wakes up. I think she said she bought you some clothes. Just an option. Not saying you have to or anything. It’s up to you.” She clarifies another few times, turning a deeper and deeper red as she does.
“Good job, Olly.” I think, chastising myself. After my analysis last night, I failed to consider how someone else might feel about that kind of thing. But, if Lilly says she’s not bothered, then I have no reason to disbelieve her, and I’d really rather not wear this shirt if there’s anything to be done about it.
As such, I take it back off again, suddenly feeling much dirtier than I already was for having put it back on. It sends an uncomfortable crawling sensation across my skin that reminds me of the shower-thing. As I walk over to it, I quietly state, “You never answered my question, by the way, Lilly.” She seems to be investigating the closed journal in her lap very thoroughly and intently.
She looks back up at me, narrowing her eyes with apparent suspicion before giving a very obviously evasive and clipped answer. “A few synthesized pencils. Multiple colors, too!” Her voice pitches up towards the end and I make a point of staring directly at the journal. She sees my look, looks down at the little journal, looks me directly in the eyes and responds, “My journal and artbook.”
Equally clipped, with a very sharp tone that I choose to ignore. I’m in a good mood and I think it’s fair that I get to needle her for once. Instead, I spin on my heel midstep and approach Lilly, holding my right arm behind my back. While it’s in the sleeve, I would prefer an abundance of caution.
Her eyes go wider as I step nearer, looking this way and that rapidly. It makes her look almost like a cornered animal or someone being caught doing something they shouldn’t. I lean in near her and peer down at the journal. It’s a small red thing, maybe leather-bound, about the size of my palm, and as such, is a handful for the smaller Lilly, even in her more mortally-scaled form. “Well, if it’s an artbook, what do you draw? I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned doing art before. Anything I could take a look at?”
She blanches, but leans back away from me, moving the journal out of my line of sight and up to her face as she flips through it quickly before pinning open a page and turning it to face me.
It’s a very impressive rendition of the little talking weasel bounding through purple and gold flowers, though with added details and notations around. But all of them are in a language I don’t recognize — presumably whatever the Fae actually use for writing. It’s lovingly drawn in pretty extreme detail, but not without flair and style.
“Wow. That’s really well done, ‘Lil. I would love to see more sometime if you want to share later. With how detailed you did the weasel, I’d be interested to see how you draw people.” I fix her with a warm smile and seems to get her to relax a little bit.
“Breath Divine, you both are just determined to prevent me from sleeping in, aren’t you?” Ayre’s voice comes from the bedding ball with a bit of levity only barely masking actual annoyance.
“Blame Olly, not me. I’ve just been quietly drawing all morning, but he keeps asking questions.” She sticks her tongue out at Ayre, who sits up and returns the gesture with her quite-longer, thinner, and forked tongue.
“Uh-huh, and what were you drawing? Because I know that the Sir Henry Slinks one is from last week.” As Ayre takes over needling Lilly, I take it as an opportunity to make my way over to the shower.
As they argue back and forth about something Lilly calls a “body study” and Ayre presses her on the subject, I make my way over to the stall. With Lilly seeming uncomfortable with the whole…less clothed thing, I opt to disrobe inside the shower, since I can draw the little curtain to cover myself fully. Undressing will be simple and easy. Dressing afterwards when the whole interior is wet…less so. I step inside, though: It’s spacious enough for Ayre’s tail, wings, and generally larger frame, so I have plenty of space to disrobe.
Stepping in also gives me a good look at it for the first time, the entire thing is tiled with white and blue square tiles in a repeating, simple, but pleasant pattern. Directly above and evenly spread on the walls there's a dozen or so little cerulean gems that give off gentle waves of Hydrus and Puritas essence. Water and purity, according to what I've read.
Makes good enough sense to me; the purposes are fairly clear. After finishing disrobing, I toss my clothes onto the railing above to keep them close enough to put back on. Unfortunately, the bar was apparently slicker than expected, which saw them slide off and onto the floor on the opposite side of the wall… I’ll have to ask someone to hand them to me afterward. I look into actually turning on the thing, the control runes are pretty straightforward, but with an inability to call and imbue essence into things, this is a small dilemma I hadn't considered.
I ponder for a while, trying to invoke a couple of abilities as I do.
I focus on the two that most closely relate to manipulating essence. One coming from an ore formation, and the other from a fairly uncommon vine in the forest around Ayre’s cabin. The memory both comes to mind with perfect clarity. A level of recall I usually experience when doing this that feels no different than if I was currently living the moment in reality. Unremarkable moments, but etched into my mind like engravings into stone — not the hazy half-stuff of unimportant memories that others experience, according to Ayre.
As I reach out with each in turn, no essence comes to my call — not that I really know what would feel like anyways. I just kind of assume I would…know. It can’t be that hard to detect magic flowing into and through you, right?
But, failures all the same, and as they happen the once-clear memories flee with haste, leaving me feeling dazed for some amount of time as I process the feeling of emptiness that comes from using these abilities without having recently consumed something; which reminds me of my promise to Ayre to eat something today… I also realize that I’ve never called upon abilities like that so casually before, even considering the cost.
Looking down, I see new rivulets of red coursing through the arm and a couple drips of the ichor falling down onto the floor tiles and eating small divots into their surface.
“You alright in there?” Ayre’s voice drifts across the room with concern, which makes me realize I don’t know how long I’ve been standing here reeling from the paired memory loss and cost of the abilities.
I hesitate, unsure of how to really broach my current problem. I opt for simplicity in lieu of anything better. “I, uh, can’t turn it on.” No response seems immediately forthcoming, so I clarify, “I can’t empower the runes. I can’t call or channel magic.” There’s a pair of matched “Ooooh’s” from across the room followed by some whispering that I can’t quite make out.
“I’ll come hel-”
I hear the creak of Ayre’s wings as she apparently stands and calls out, but the noise is cut off by a burst of sparkles and chimes followed by Lilly’s voice sounding…odd. Excited? She’s been somewhat guarded after yesterday, so maybe she’s trying to make it up to me by being helpful like she did with the backpack the other day?
“You’re no good at sustained magic manipulation, Ayre. I’ll take care of it.” Her voice is also smaller, quieter. Indicating that she transformed into her preferred form. It was odd she’d stayed in the mortal form for so long anyways, so I’ll like the return to form, as it were — feels more natural.
“Oh, by all means, princess, after you. Do try to be respectful if you can.” I can hear the eye roll from here, and smile for a moment before a realization strikes me. I tossed my clothes over the side. And Lilly is presumably fluttering her way over here with urgency if her tone is anything to go by.
I pull open the curtain to grab a towel hanging nearby, only to be faced with Lilly’s diminutive face wearing a sly smile that rapidly shifts to a mask of concern. Mere inches away. I pull the curtain to cover myself as completely as I can, but it’s…fairly minimal. “I’m…I’m gonna grab a towel real quick…” I feel wildly, deeply, embarrassed, but her little smile dispels it pretty quickly — awakening the feeling from last night. I shut my eyes hard, trying to fight back against it for a moment, but focusing on it seems to only intensify the feeling.
“If you grab a towel, it’ll just get wet when I turn it on. Stop worrying so much.” I hear a scoff from Ayre and see the eye roll this time. She rises and walks to the bag of food and grabs out a handful of treats and returns to her sitting position to watch the apparent show.
I think the worst part of this is not knowing how I should be acting. I feel embarrassed, there’s the strange feeling of hunger that I feel in my chest and cloying at my mind in a way that would be almost pleasant if it didn’t feel so similar to the urge to consume essence-rich materials and…other things.
Lilly flutters in past me, prompting me to spool myself up in the curtain as I turn to watch her. I hear a whistle of appreciation from behind from Ayre which informs me that covering my front has made me fail at covering my back. Awkwardly I try to pull material to cover both sides in a doomed attempt at modesty. These two are so confounding.
Lilly, undeterred, flies over towards the runes and alights on a small bar with a little cloth on it. Pressing her hands to the “water” and ”hot” ones simultaneously.
She mutters a quick incantation and bits of essence dust forward as she makes a sweeping gesture towards the runes.
[Help my friend and see him clean, feel his touch and sate his needs.]
Finishing her flourish, she spins to face me at the exact moment the water starts to gush forth from the emitters… and it’s hot!
I let out a yelp of surprise and drop the curtain.
Time stops as Lilly and I’s eyes meet. I know I am wearing shock and surprise on my face. The water isn’t unbearably hot, I just wasn’t expecting it.
Lilly, on the other hand, merely looks me up and down once after returning to that sly smile. “Oh no. Whoopsie.” Her voice comes out dull and flat despite a growing blush. “Enjoy your shower, Olly!” She avoids the water, fluttering straight up and over the wall. I swear she casts another glance back down at me, still standing here stunned. “Oh, by the way. I enchanted the runes so you can use them for now.” Her voice sounds mirthful, and instead of flying away, she sits atop the bar, facing outwards into the room with her back to me and begins talking with Ayre.
“If you were able to put an enchantment on the runes so he could control them, was turning the shower on yourself really necessary Lilly?” Lilly responds with a rude and decidedly un-princesslike gesture before returning to calmly relaxing on the bar.
I watch her bob back and forth, kicking her legs as some small tune seems to come from the air around her. Something jaunty and happy that feels calming to hear. Shaking my head, I reach over and experimentally tap the runes a few times until the water is comfortable and settle in to scrub myself as I feel a good bit of the stress, soreness, and pain I’ve been feeling melts away with the water flow.
As I settle, I take conscious note of the water as it washes over me. On one half of my body, I feel warmth as expected. On the other, I feel the constant deluge of information rolling over my skin on the cursed arm.
Looking down, I see the red rivulets in the arm seemingly being drawn to the surface of the skin. As each one seemingly “drains” to the surface, I feel a little bit of mental fog dissipate, leaving the arm it's more pure crystalline color for the most part.
I suspect it has to do with the purity essence bring mixed with the water — after all that poison that Nyssa hit me with was Puritas and that helped me extract the poison itself after I broke it down. So maybe this is the same.
Looking down I also notice that a constant, but light dusting of the inert powder is being washed down the drain in the center of the stall, presumably from my arms constantly absorbing it.
Another likely cause for the ruby red fluid dissipating.
Whatever the cause, it feels good. It feels good in a way that I really haven't since coming to, so I try to bask in it. Loosing a long, contented sigh, I settle in to let this last as long as it needs to. Which I expect will be a while.
Idly though, my mind wanders and I think about what's been going on since waking. Ayre called the girl who saved her Nyssa. Which is the same name as the daughter from my memory of the gate.
I've not seen or heard of any others of the demonkyn since waking. Not in any of Ayre's books, not walking around the town. So it makes me wonder: what are the odds that the girl from the memory is this same knight devoted to hunting those monsters?
The thought leaves me with strange and conflicting feelings: I remember exactly how I — or Valynn — felt about her, and that sits at the edge of my mind, urging me to want to help her and understand her.
But at the same time, my own memories and experience urge me to avoid her as a serious threat. Because she is.
I'm not sure what to think. I just hope we never cross paths again so I don't have to face it.