[Edited] Ch 51-52 (Patreon)

51 - An Exposed Wound

Lynnria’s reaction to having a teat suddenly appear on her arm was—to put it mildly—bordering on the hysterical. Which is to say, there was a lot of unintelligible screeching, hurled accusations, and high emotions. I had never been party to one, so I did not know what it would look like even if she had, but I suspected the girl was suffering from a full-blown psychotic break.

Which was a bit much. She had barely even flinched on sprouting claws and fangs, after all. But then, I had to suppose those things did at least nominally belong there.

My companions were not handling it particularly well, either. But for different reasons.

Arx, as the informal queen of self-inflicted fuck-ups, found the entire situation hilarious and had collapsed into a giggling fit off in a corner. Which was… understandable. If you completely ignored the actual person and their feelings on the receiving end of it, there was some definite humor to the situation but, as it stood, it just came off as crass.

She should have at least made some effort to apologize, but no. She had decided to go the entirely opposite direction. Whenever she managed to gather enough breath between raging guffaws to speak, she would hurl some ill-timed pun or other witticism at the girl.

Simple observations, like:

‘Looks like you’re developing quite the wrist-full. I don’t know if you need an arm-guard or a corset!’

The conciliatory:

‘You could always start a new trend. Just think of all the high-society ladies with their wrist-nipple piercings.’

Or the nonsensical:

‘Well, at least now you have a convenient place to hang your wand.’

How she expected the girl to accomplish that was beyond me. Maybe with a strap or something…? Regardless, she was being less than helpful.

Meanwhile, Jax was… tryingto restore order. Not because she wanted to help Lynnria or anything, but because she could tell all the yelling was upsetting me. And when I got upset, she got upset. And when shegot upset…

Well, Jax was Jax. Lynnria was just lucky I liked her. From the flexing of claws and gnashing of teeth, I had a fair mind that my First would have preferred to silence the girl permanently. As it was, Jax had opted for a strategy of shouting the girl down. It was going about as well as one might expect.

Then, there was Mia, who, despite being the target of most of the histrionics, was taking things with a remarkable aplomb.

“Will you please stop shouting and listen to me? There is no way—”

“—did it on purpose! I know you did!”

“And why would I do that? Howwould I—?“

“You hate me! Everyone hates me!”

“No, I think you’re an idiot. There’s a difference.”

“Okay, I’m an idiot. I’m the stupidest girl alive. And now you’ve made me into a freak so everyone can see. Even moreof a freak!”

“Call yerself a freak one more time, and I’ll lamp ye!” Jax snarled. “See if I don’t!”

“Go on! Do it! I know you want to!”

“Don’t tempt me, whelp!”

“Yeah, you hussy! Haven’t you ever heard of pockets?”

The shouting paused for a beat. As one, three pairs of eyes turned to stare at the resident twit.

Arx glanced from face to face searchingly. “Get it…? Because she’s tempting you?”

There was a long stretch of silence while we collectively—and fruitlessly—attempted to work our way through Arx’s latest addition to the conversation.

Some claim that laughter is the best medicine. But confusion will do in a pinch.

Right about then, the door to the back room opened just wide enough for the tailor’s narrow head to poke through. “I am tryingto work back here! Do you expect braying like lagonki to hasten a work of genius?! Insolent churls…”

The door slammed closed again, leaving us alone with the now-uncomfortable silence.

Jax let out a disgruntled hiss. “I know we ain’t been paid yet, but… We ain’t gotta have them clothes, do we, Master?”

I clicked my tongue. What was it about mornings that made me regret life?

Sure do wish I had a cup of coffee right about now. Maybe a book? And a nice quiet corner to read it in? That’d be nice.

But I had none of those things. Just a bunch of women with crippling emotional problems.

In any event, the tailor was quite correct… even if he was a douche. All this shouting was getting us nowhere.

Stepping forward, I gently enfolded Lynnria in my arms. She needed reassurance and comfort more than anything.

She fought me at first, mistrustful of my intentions. “No! Don’t! You’re just going to manipulate me. Don’t make me feel!”

“I won’t,” I promised as I rocked her back and forth. “We’re on your side, Lynnria.”

For a little while, she held still in my embrace, but as no sign of artificial comfort or happiness came, she slowly began to curl into my chest. Then, the tears came.

I tutted and began to stroke her back tenderly. “Here now. There’s no need for that.”

“Everyone hates me,” she mumbled.

“I don’t hate you,” I argued. “No one here hates you.”

“Your mates treat me like garbage!”

“Do not,” Jax retorted immediately. “We’s offered a chug and tickle plenty of times.”

Arx nodded emphatically. “You might be a little scruffy behind the ears yet, but you’ve got pretty nice legs.”

“When y’ain’t got them baggy ‘loons on, anyhow.”

I glared at them for a moment. They were being perfectly serious, but telling someone you are down to bone is not the compliment they thought it was. Especially during a crying fit.

“Even your Faen thinks I’m trash,” Lynnria sobbed. “She even said so! Just look what she’s done to me.”

“I never called you trash. I called you an idiot. Which you are,” Mia clarified. Unhelpfully. “Your mistake is in imagining yourself unique in this.”

I groaned. “For fuck’s sake, Mia…”

“What? Why do you imagine it incumbent upon me to apologize or comfort her? It is only her own mistake that caused this.”

Lynnria snarled into my chest, then shoved her wrist into my face. “So I did this to myself? Is that it?”

“Yes—suck that titty!” Mia sighed. “As I’ve been trying to explain, with your limitation to Capacity, I barely had the room to specify what the charm should do. Never mind how it would manifest. And since you did not bother to apply your Will to direct it, the magic had little recourse but to take inspiration… elsewhere.”

“Don’t talk out yer fanny flaps,” Jax grumbled. “You’d nay find a lass more twisted on whipping her chebs out.”

Lynnria stiffened and, for a long few seconds, she stared at the discolored bump. In an unconscious gesture, her other hand slowly came up to rest on her sternum.

“You know… don’t you,” she whispered.

“Of course, I know,” Mia replied offhand. And in complete disregard to Lynnria’s apparent fragility. “As the arbiter of your Power, your body is an open canvas to me.”

Lynnria looked up at me searchingly. “And you didn’t tell him?”

I quirked an eyebrow.

“Should I have—choked on cum?!” Mia growled in frustration. “Beginning to hate these arguments… so… much.”

A calming breath came and went.

“Now, look. I am also well aware of the meaning behind this, for all its idiocy. Your former Clan could not be less interested in your fate. My obligation begins and ends there.”

Her Clan? Why wouldn’t her grandfather be interested?

“But he’s your ‘sovereign,’” Lynnria persisted.

Mia exhaled sharply. “Yes? What of it? I did not lie, nor would I have done. Had he asked, I would have happily divulged your secrets. Arx’s as well, should it come to it. We all know she has them.” Arx stiffened slightly, however Mia ignored her. “But he did not ask. No matter how much I hinted at them. He dislikes prying.”

The corners of my mouth bunched together. She was certainly right about that. With the pair of them openly talking about ‘secrets’ right in front of me, I badly wanted to, but it was not like Lynnria could just pretend I had not heard any of that. If she wanted to share, she would.

Until then, I would mind my own business.

“We need to know how to fix this, Mia,” was all I said.

“There. You see?” she said pointedly, then added, “And thank you. At least someoneis still minding their phrasing.”

Lynnria stared at me searchingly for a few moments, apparently deep in thought, before finally giving a faint nod.

“Mia…” I prompted.

“Oh, that? I have already told you how the Runes should work. Follow your instincts. How would you normally cause the construct to disperse?”

I frowned slightly. All I knew about Lynnria’s skill was that it had been meant as a storage tank for Life Energy. Everything else about its underlying mechanics remained a mystery.

Let’s see… if the nipple is just a magical construct… Hmm. Didn’t Mia say something about the Runes not persisting long once the Life was removed?

That sounded simple enough. But how were we supposed to get Life out of a nipple?

My face fell.

And from the reactions spreading around the group, I was not the only one to have arrived at the solution.

“I’ll just… cast this new spell of mine a few times,” Lynnria said stiffly.

I coughed into my hand. “Yes. The Poison Bolt. Right. I’m sure that would work… too.”

Arx pouted. “Aww.”

Damn it, Arx. Don’t look at her. Just… don’t even acknowledge…

“I guess you could shoot me with it,” I volunteered instead. “It’s raw Life, and its attuned to us. So, it should be fine. If I’ve understood things correctly.”

“It won’t poison you, if that’s what you mean.”

Lynnria nodded then, her cheeks blushing crimson, reached up with her other hand’s index finger toward the spongy obtrusion. I was not entirely sure what she was trying to accomplish, but I had to assume it was something to do with casting the spell. Maybe she had to load her finger?

Mia sighed abruptly—in an overly loud and obvious sort of way.

“Such a shame, though… not to take advantage of the precedent while you have the chance…”

Lynnria hesitated, then looked up at me. Not that I had any idea what she was on about.

“I mean, once it’s dispersed, who really knows how the spell will manifest the second time around,” Mia continued after a moment’s pause. “Unless… of course, there was an example to reference from…?”

Jax folded her arms across her chest. “We just had a row all about this, Faen. She don’t want the nipple! Why’d we want the spell to go manifestering again like that?”

She gestured to Lynnria, who had begun to tremble slightly.

“See? Just look at her. She’s…” She frowned, diverted from whatever she had been about to say by the waves of emotion almost visibly emanating from Lynnria. “She don’t believe you? Thinks yer havering… talking nonsense. But there be a lot of hope, too? And she be fit to rage ye made her feel that way.”

Lynnria’s eyes flashed, and her lips began to curl over her fangs.

But I quickly held up a hand. “Jax. That isn’t the sort of thing you say out loud.”

She snorted softly. “I ain’t a fool. Be only what shewanted ye to know. But what she ain’t got the courage to say, her ownself.”

“And I do not haver.”

“Ridiculous!” Lynnria snarled finally. “I’m not a fool, either. I was severed! You can’t just heal that with a little cantrip.”

Severed? From what?

Jax sucked in a breath, understanding in an instant what I absolutely had not. Her eyes took on a hard edge, and a low, menacing growl began to rumble out of her chest. But then she cast a quick glance at the door to the back room.

“This ain’t the sort of talk to be having… here.”

I nodded slowly, trusting my First’s instincts. If she thought this was too serious a topic for a random tailor’s shop, I would take her word for it.

“Let’s go outside,” I suggested. “Arx, wait here… just to make sure the door doesn’t lock on us?”

She frowned, unhappy to be left out.

“Master,” she agreed anyway.

*****

“So. Severed, be it?” Jax sighed wearily once we were safely in the hall. “That explains things. Always had ye figured fer some minted Clan’s get.”

Lynnria had gone to stand over by the window, but her gaze had turned inward. Not that there was much to see out there. Just a couple of low, grassy hills sat side by side. With some oddly-placed shrubbery right at their peaks.

“I’m surprised you’ve heard of it,” she murmured.

Jax shrugged. “Rumors mainly. Ain’t the sort of thing us low types get up to. We ain’t that cruel.”

My eyebrows lifted a hair. The hell?

“Still…” She turned to glance at the door. “The other one didn’t seem to recognize it. I’m surprised.”

“She don’t come from the same stock as us.”

That seemed to puzzle Lynnria, but she soon brushed it aside. For a long while, she stared at me, searching for something. Whatever it was, she did not find it.

“Explain it to him,” Lynnria said finally, her voice cracking ever-so-slightly. “I don’t think I can.”

“Better to show him, I’m thinking.”

Lynnria did not respond for a long while, but she did eventually turn toward us. I might not have been an empath, but even I could see the emotions warring across her face. She looked like she might fall apart from an errant breeze.

“What if he rejects me?” she asked finally, her voice thin.

Jax rebuffed the idea before I could even open my mouth. “Too late fer that. Yer one of us, now.”

“But I’m disgusting,” she argued. “He’ll cast me aside. Never touch me again.”

Jax interjected, again well before I could formulate some response, this time with a snort. “Ain’t much chance of that. He accepted me.”

“Um… I’m right here. I can speak for myself.”

Jax glanced at me from the corner of her eye. “Wait.”

“But you’re so beautiful,” Lynnria protested, ignoring us. She seemed afraid to even look at me. “And so confident. I could never just walk around… bare. Like you.”

Jax could not help but preen a little at the compliment before waving it away. “Told ye before. I started from one.”

Lynnria folded her arms in front of herself defensively, not wanting to acknowledge the point. I could understand that, at least. Even I had hard time remembering the Jax from those days.

“You were still a woman,” she muttered weakly.

“That,” Jax said with some force, “were one thing I were not. And still ain’t. I be Dolilim, proud. And ne’er nothing else.”

“You look woman enough.” I could barely even hear Lynnria’s voice anymore, it was so quiet. “What’s the difference?”

That sounded like a deflection. Lynnria was likely trying to steer the conversation away from her own discomfort, but I did not call her on it. I was more than curious to see how Jax would answer, having long wondered about it myself.

Jax shrugged, unconcerned. “Easy enough. What do women mate with?”

“Men,” Lynnria answered immediately. Then, after a brief hesitation, added, “Mostly.”

“Right. I do nay mate with men. Even mostly. I mate with Donum.”

Lynnria shook her head in quick denial. “You’ve mated with Arx plenty of times. I’ve seen you!”

Jax cocked her head. “She ain’t Donum?”

“You… only mate within the Clan?” Lynnria asked, bewildered. “I don’t understand. How does that make you not a woman?”

A good question. As far as I could tell, what she was talking about was sexuality. Not gender.

Jax sighed, having been put to task. Clearly, this was not an easy thing to define, especially for those whose statuses laid outside the norm.

“Tell me, lass. I know y’ain’t been Dolilim long, and lesserat that. But who’s face do ye see when ye imagine someone ‘twixt yer legs.”

Lynnria glanced at me quickly.

“Aye, that’s the way of it,” Jax agreed before she could speak. “But now imagine someone elsethere. Not me, nor Arx. A stranger’s face.”

A sudden look of fear overcame the girl. “No.”

Jax stepped forward. “Go on. Do it.”

“No!” she said again, backing away.

“Come on. A strapping lad with wideshoulders. Laoi. Blond hair, mayhaps? Tanned, like them-uns from up north. With a great, big cock. Throbbing away. Ready to plunge into—”

Lynnria had begun trembling through the description, but at the last a sudden, animal-like snarl ripped out of her throat. She crouched low with claws splayed, and her tail stood stiffly behind her, its every hair on end.

Jax pulled up short but did not otherwise react. She simply stood over the girl, commanding and imperious.

“What do ye want to do with him?” she asked quietly.

“Kill him!” Lynnria growled. “Rip his throat. Drink his blood! Take his Life for—”

She swallowed abruptly, having realized what she was saying.

“Take his Life fer Master,” Jax finished for her.

Lynnria did not reply. She was staring at the ground, perhaps in denial of the instinct that had overcome her. Or trying to.

I looked on impassively from one side. I already knew how Jax felt, and I had seen the same from Arx. So, for Lynnria to be displaying the same attitudes did not surprise me much, even if I might have wished otherwise.

Still, this did not prove much beyond that a Dolilim’s sexuality seemed to be… consistent. Though, I had no idea what the word for it might be.

Violently polygamous, maybe?

“None of that makes you less than a woman, Jax” I pointed out. “Other than your own say-so.”

Jax grimaced in frustration. Here, it seemed, words had failed her.

“What your companion is failing to explain is that ‘gender’ is not intrinsic to her being,” Mia supplied. “You are.”

“Lilim may be flesh and blood, but they do not reproduce. Nor are they born. They are living constructs. Their bodies are crafted with purpose and, almost always, with a specific target in mind. Which is part of the reason you will never find any sort of consistent description of one within the lower world. That your companions even have the appearance of a gender is because that is the form most capable of drawing out complex and varied emotions… from you. You specifically. Their master.”

A beat passed as I contemplated her words. That explained… a lot. Particularly with how they tended to behave. The flagrant disregard to their own rights and well-being. The contempt they held for everyone else. Their constant provocations… particularly when it came to my libido.

Man, they really are demons, aren’t they.

It was a uniquely bizarre concept. To have your physical state be reliant on another’s preference? And not caring? To have that just be… how you were?

“So, you’re saying… if I hadn’t been attracted to women—”

Jax retched immediately, then shoved a knuckle to her lips. “Ne’er say that!”

“Sorry. I was just following the hypothetical.”

She nodded uncertainly. “Whate’er that means. I can nay bear the thought of ye not wanting to look on me.”

“Had that been the case, you would have still become attractive to him. But you would not appear as you now do. Nor would you necessarily have become male. Attractiveness is a flexible concept.”

“Fie. Away with ye, Faen cunt.” Jax shivered with revulsion. “I nay like this game.”

I nodded both out of sympathy and agreement.

While I could at least separate myself from my own desires enough to countenance the idea, I certainly did not want to dwell on it long. Imagining Jax as something… other… and enjoying it?

Blech…

Still, this raised quite a few tangentially-related questions. Like… did Faen have gender? They were supposed to be the spirits within lilim, after all. And as fragments of Goddesses, what did that say about them?

If goddesses did not have a gender, why did they identify as goddesses, specifically? Why not just call themselves gods? That was supposed to be the neutral… at least, according to my own understanding.

But maybe I was being biased? None of these people—or whatever—had been brought up within my culture. They were not even human! That they happened to default to something approximating a human female by coincidence was at least… plausible.

Though, now that I was thinking about, it was surpassing strange that any of them took remotely familiar forms. Or even thought in human terms. This was an alien planet!

“I think that answers the question sufficiently enough for now,” I said, turning to Lynnria. “She is not a woman. And I suppose that means you aren’t either. Technically. Unless you still want to think of yourself that way. It isn’t my place to tell you one way or the other.”

Lynnria had fallen silent during the exchange, so I was not at all certain how she was taking it. She had just been informed that she was becoming a species whose forms were modeled solely upon my own views of attractiveness.

Which… probably said a lot about me. Not that I could help being attracted to large-breasted fitness models, precisely. Nor was I forcing them to look that way… or not consciously. Best not to dwell on it.

In any case, it would be a lot to take in even if she had not been struggling with whatever this ‘severing’ business was about.

Lynnria finally sighed in resignation. “I suppose you’re right. I’m not a woman. Haven’t been for… some time, now. Not really.”

Her chin crinkled with building emotion, but she steadied herself.

“Maybe it would have been easier if you were attracted to men. Maybe then,” she began to tremble, and her voice squeaked with building fear, “you wouldn’t find me so disgusting.”

With that, she lifted her shirt—just enough to see her chest.

There was… nothing.

No breasts. No nipples. Nor even any sign of scar tissue. Just smooth, flat skin.

“I… don’t understand,” I said slowly. “Did you have cancer or something?”

Lynnria had averted her eyes, terrified of the reaction she had expected would come. But my question clearly confused her. “I—what? I don’t…?”

“The Master be new to these parts. Don’t know our… customs,” Jax supplied before turning to me.

The rest, she delivered in an emotionless monotone, as though she were ashamed to even know about it.

“She be severed, Master. Be a ritual some of the bigger Clans get up to. Laoi, anyways.” She took a breath, hesitant to say the rest, but she marshaled on. “Her chest were cut away. Sliced clean and healed. Then cut again. Over and over, til even the best o’ healers could ne’er bring ‘em back.”

I stared at her. Then at Lynnria. Then back again.

It was a simple enough explanation. But…

“Fuck,” I breathed.

Jax flinched slightly, but did not call me on the obscenity.

After all, what else could I say? That was…

I did not even know what. I barely had the words to describe my own reaction. It was one of the most fucked-up things I had ever heard.

“Why?”

Jax waited for Lynnria, but she did not seem to want to speak. Finally, she shrugged, “A punishment, be all I know. After, ye be cast from the Clan. Set adrift-like.”

“It’s… so that no man will touch you,” Lynnria explained weakly. “And no children will… will come from you. To challenge for their place to rule. You are severed both in body and Clan.”

“You’re saying… your grandfather?”

“No!” she denied quickly. “He’s my paternal grandfather. From a different Clan. It was my mother’s Clan that did this. My severing was… not a punishment for anything… anything I did. So they… He was merciful. And adopted me.”

“You were punished by proxy?” I had not thought this little tale could get much worse, but it seemed I had been incorrect. “Th-they cut off your—and you were a scapegoat?!”

Lynnria glanced away.

“Master.” Jax touched my shoulder gently. “I’m thinking ye need to worry more about what she needs to hear. And not so much these questions.”

“What?”

I turned to Lynnria again. She had not moved even to lower her shirt, but she had the look of a woman awaiting the headman’s ax.

“Oh, shit, Lynnria. Did you actually think I would… reject you over this?”

Her eyes began shining and her lips pulled back over her teeth. But not to smile. It looked like she was trying as hard as she could not to howl with grief. Never mind answering.

I pulled her to me quickly and held her tight. This time, pouring every drop of comfort into her I could. So much that she would never want to let me go. That she would remember this moment as the safest and most reassuring place she had ever been.

“Oh, Lynnria,” I whispered into her hair. Over and over. Like a mantra. “I would never. Not for something like this. Never.”

She fell into my arms completely then, unable to bear the weight of her own burden. And she cried.

And cried.

***

“Is this why you’re so into the whole mind-reading thing?” I asked some time later, once the tears had mostly subsided. “You were trying to tell me without telling me?”

“Maybe,” she admitted, her voice muffled by my chest. “I’ve… wanted to tell you. Really. This whole time. But…” She sighed. “I still think telepathy is really hot, though.”

I smiled. There really was no explaining kinks.

“I guess I’m still not understanding the point of all of this,” I began again. “How would… doing that to you prevent children?”

It was hardly the most important question I had about the whole situation, but that would have dealt with pointing out how psychotic her family was and likely would have lead into the feasibility of mounting some heads on stakes.

Not that I would have done it. No matter how satisfying it might have been.

Besides, this was an entire Clan we were talking about. What was I supposed to do? Mount some suicidal assault? File a complaint with the sheriff? Write them a sternly-worded letter?

I wonder if Arx knows anything about assassins…

“Laoi menfolk be a picky lot,” Jax explained shortly from my shoulder.

After we had collapsed to the floor, she had come to cuddle me from behind, evidently having wanted to comfort me through this. Which… I would take, but I was hardly the one most in need of it.

Dolilim were so weird.

“They must be really picky, then. Human men would never—” I paused to reconsider. “Well… okay. She might have some difficulties even with them. Especially if she wanted something more long term. But for a one-night stand? No problem.”

I knew plenty of guys who would have been overjoyed just to be getting laid. Myself included, prior to a couple of months ago.

Lynnria sighed. “There’s also the concern of pedigree. I couldn’t have a child with just anyone and still expect the girl to be a viable candidate for matriarch. But that isn’t important anymore. My fate was sealed the moment my—”

She made a fragile, little sound, and I squeezed her gently.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”

“I quite agree. There has been more than enough blubbering over a solvable problem.”

I groaned. “Mia, this is about more than just having her… breasts cut off… which is plenty. Her whole family cast her out in about the most heinously torturous a manner imaginable for a crime she didn’t even commit. You can’t just magic away that kind of hurt.”

“Yes, you can,” she shot back immediately. “To say nothing of memory-altering Ailments and the various levels of Amnesiatic effects one might naturally encounter, it would be quite simple to whip up an appropriate spell. However, if you wanted to do it with any delicacy, it might be rather complex.”

She drifted off for a moment as she mulled over the problem.

“Well, no matter. From what I have observed, it should not be necessary. She won’t care about any of that in the slightest once she has been bound. Or only vaguely. So, it would be a waste of the skill point.”

I opened my mouth to reply, then closed it. However blunt and callous her delivery, she had at least been trying to help.

“Bound?” Lynnria glanced up at me.

I nodded distractedly. “Remember the immortality spell I told you about? Well… that. It’s a little more complicated than I let on. As I’m sure you’ve gathered.”

Her eyebrows bunched together.

“You’re talking about the spell that’ll turn me into a full Dolilim? Does it really make you forget your past?” she asked with a glance over my shoulder.

Jax gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Not… exact-like. Be a slow thing. Bits come and go. The edges get soft. What were important ain’t no more. Like the Faen said. Vague.”

Her eyes unfocused as she thought back.

“Like… when Donum found me… brought me back from the brink… I remember seeing them what were me mates—them what had captured him—lying all around, made fit fer Mina birds. Corpses all. I think to meself a’times… were it the me from before… maybe I’d’ve been raged about it? But I never were. Not never. All I could think on were what they intended fer Master… and I ain’t got a thought in me but hate for ‘em.”

I reached behind me to give her thigh an affectionate squeeze. One could argue that she might have deserved her fate, and it was certainly true that she would have died had I not intervened. However, she had not been given any choice in the matter. I had simply acted.

For better or worse, she belonged to me now.

Her arms tightened around me briefly in response.

“There be other things, too. Like… I know from the Master’s say-so I were laoi afore. And… and not… like this.”

“You were ugly, you mean?” Lynnria provided.

“Aye. Ugly,” Jax agreed readily. And with some relief. “But I ain’t got no memory o’ that. Feels… wrong… to think of meself that way. Bad wrong.”

I nodded along with the explanation, having known most of it already. Lynnria was still trying to steer the conversation to safer waters, but I could sympathize. I would not have wanted to talk about it, either.

And now I could understand why she had reacted so strongly. Having a reminder of a trauma like that suddenly pop up on her wrist must have been horrifying.

“Lynnria,” I said slowly. “If you would rather, we can drain the Life out of your… storage. And then redo it. Try for some other kind of… of manifestation. We don’t have to follow Mia’s suggestion. We don’t have to use it as some kind of… template.”

She did not reply immediately. She seemed deep in thought.

“What—” She paused for a moment more, and her lip twitched in frustration as she attempted to formulate the right words. “Jax, do your breasts make you… happy?”

That was not a reply exactly. It seemed she was still avoiding the question. Or at least circling it warily.

Jax stared at her. “Aye? What kind of daft question—?”

“No… no,” Lynnria interrupted. “I mean… Mia said you were a construct that… that… I don’t know what. But for you to have breasts at all, that means Donum likes them. Right?”

“Oh.” Jax snorted dismissively. “I’d nay put much to that one’s words. I growed these me ownself. No hands constructed ‘em but me.”

“Exactly.”

Jax waved a hand through the air, as though shooing Mia’s voice away like some annoying insect. “Anyhow, the Master do indeed, though he don’t like to dwell on it. He likes to war with hisself, fer some reason. He ain’t said a word, but he feels ‘em on his back right enough.”

She lowered her voice into a husky whisper. “And he loves it.”

“Hush, you.” Honestly. Telling all my secrets like that? “Lynnria, please don’t make decisions like this based on what I might or might not prefer.”

Lynnria shot me a frustrated look. “Were you not listening just now? Your own Faen just told you, the form we take is based entirely on your own preference!”

“I did not say ‘entirely.’”

“Whatever!” she groaned. “The point is, I have been changing. And from what I’ve understood, there is every possibility that I might begin to… to heal… sooner or later. Especially once you cast that spell on me. And I thought… well, if I do this, maybe I’ll… I don’t know. Have some control over it?”

Jax nodded. “Grand idea, that. Though mind, Master don’t like ‘em too big. A tad smaller’n me own be the ideal.”

I gave my First a bit of a side-eye. Which she did not meet.

“If that’s your reasoning, I agree,” I said, addressing Lynnria. “Sounds like a fantastic idea. You shouldwant some control over what happens to your own body—and have breasts that youare happy with. Not just me.”

And besides, it would be an excellent way to spite the ‘people’ who did this to her. Though, I hesitated to even use the word. They were closer to monsters. Certainly not family. No one who claimed to love you would ever be capable of something like that.

“If it were up to me, I would grant you control over the entire process.”

“In many respects, she already does,” Mia interjected. “Why do you think Dolilim have tempered Charisma?”

Lynnria blinked.

“I’m sorry. What?”

====

52 - High Fashion

note: this chapter had some fairly significant structural changes. The actual content is the same, just had to reorder certain things to avoid repetition and make certain points land better.

====

“Tempered?! You’re telling me I have a tempered stat? You can grant people… a tempered. Stat!? L-like it was nothing?” Lynnria stammered. “Just… just what? By snapping your fingers?”

A tempered stat was one which would raise according to a fixed Layering schedule with no point investment required. Apparently, the ones my Dolilim had were some of the best, as they increased every Layer. Of course, they had fewer Attribute points to spend as a result, but that was easily made up for due to the fact that stat increases became exponentially more expensive every ten levels.

Whatever Ahnbe had done to my Charisma, it did not follow the same rules.

“It’s only the one—I like fingers in my ass! I’m a naughty girl,” Mia replied blithely. Save for the obligatory tic, which had been delivered in the dulcet tones of a phone-sex operator. “So far, anyway. I did try to activate the second one, but it won’t seem to take without the bind.”

Lynnria made a strangled noise in her throat. “And you lay this on me like it was some kind of afterthought? Do you realize? Do you have any idea what they would do? What lengths my Clan would go to just get their hands on you?”

Jax spat to one side dismissively. “No sense in letting them get no fancy ideas, then.”

“We’re not exactly going around with a sign around our necks, Lynnria,” I agreed.

“And we know ye’d not go telling no tales,” Jax finished. “Were I sittin’ where you be, I’d ne’er let on to such as them what wronged me like that. Less call ‘em Clan. We’s yer Clan. Not they. Let them’uns lie in the dirt where they belong, says I. Whilst ye walk proud with yer fancy, new tits a-bouncing fer spite.”

Lynnria nodded faintly, evidently liking the sound of that, but still quite worried.

“But… but just look at you all. Anyone with eyes can see that something’s off. Especially once they realize you’re nowhere near as powerful as someone who looks like you should be.”

I nodded slowly. That was… a fair point.

Charisma was generally seen as a useless stat by the populace, so for all of us to have invested so heavily into it, one would normally assume we had reached a point where any other stat investment had become prohibitively expensive.

However, I was increasingly finding this view to be borne of ignorance. Charisma was actually quite handy for a magic user. Though still very much in the weeds with it, I had seen glimpses of its eventual power to influence the Words.

And everyone knew that no one knew everything.

“Okay… so then, if anyone asks,” I began, “we can tell them its a Clan thing. Clans have all kinds of hidden, proprietary builds they work toward. Right?”

Lynnria nodded, following along. She had told me as much, after all.

“And clearly, none of us are any sort of ‘local’ kind. So its not unreasonable to claim we’re a wandering Clan who all follow some ridiculous Charisma-based build philosophy.”

“Be only the truth,” Jax agreed.

“I… suppose that would suffice,” Lynnria admitted. “It might even work to our advantage. Not many will pay attention to us if they think we’re a joke.”

I was not so sure about that. I had certainly noticed the way people tended to treat us when we had last walked through town, and I had a feeling there would be more than a few ruffled feathers if it came out that the supposedly powerful adventurers everyone had been fawning over were actually a bunch of Charisma-based clowns.

But it was a small price to pay if it meant passing under the radar of the local bigwigs. If Lynnria’s situation had taught me anything, it was that some people were best avoided. At all costs.

Why the hell is severing not illegal? What does the Law Maiden even do, if She turns a blind eye to something like that? I certainly had no idea. I knew that murder was technically forbidden, but there were loads of ways around that if you were careful. And you could kill Bandits with impunity. Meanwhile—if Jax were to be believed—theft only mattered for certain categories of objects, like my Coin Purse and Gems of Power.

“There is one other thing,” Lynnria began again. “You were… handsome enough when we met a few days ago. But now? Donum, you were nowhere close to how you look now. And yet it’s only the Dolilim who are born with tempered Charisma? How can you be out-pacing us so badly? How can you have gotten to be this gorgeous so quickly?”

I rubbed at the back of my neck, embarrassed. “I… don’t see how that could be.”

Both Jax and Lynnria shot me a look. Like they were wondering whether I was being intentionally dense.

Which… was fair enough.

But I was a guy. What did it even mean for a dude to be ‘gorgeous?’ What standard was I supposed to judge from? I had no basis for comparison. No concept for masculine attractiveness.

Plus, I had not seen a mirror in ages. Had I physically changed in some way? It seemed probable, but did I have a more chiseled jawline or something? I was not exactly muscular, so that could not be it. Otherwise, I was at a loss.

The most I could say was that I still had all my limbs attached. Which was nice.

However, Mia decided to approach the question from a much more literal—and fundamentally unhelpful—direction.

“Actually, because of your insistence on taking advantage of Ahnbe’s gift, your recent increases to Charisma have not been inconsiderable. You have even outpaced Arx in that department by 30.769 percent. Rounding, of course. And since you’re not busy, you won’t mind if I show you your updated stat page.”

There were some rummaging sounds.

“Now, where did I put that blasted…? Surely, I must have left it… No? Is it under—? Ah, here we are.”

<ding!>

“There. You see? Just look at how high your Charisma has gotten. Quite respectable by mortal standards.”

I grimaced slightly. Seeing the number associated with my attractiveness rating and having an appreciation for what that meant were two different things. But I decided against protesting. This was kind of Mia’s whole job and, like any good caretaker, she got a little pissy when the boss dismissed all the work she had put in as inconvenient details.

A 17, huh? Geez…Now that I was thinking about it, I realized the girls would one day hit numbers like that, as well. Which was both exciting and terrifying to contemplate. Arx was literally the hottest woman I had ever seen, so trying to imagine her in some way beyond that was difficult for me to even conceive of. And yet her Charisma was only a 13.

Criminy.

I might not have had a scale for male attractiveness, but I certainly did for women. And while a one-point difference was mostly negligible, four was not.

It was the difference between taking a six and a perfect ten home to meet your family. The one would warrant little more than a few nods and comments about what a sweet girl she was, while the second might get a person dragged to one side to receive a stern talking to from one’s mother. After the initial shock wore off, anyway.

Except Jax already was that 10, Arx was a 13, and I had leapfrogged way past either of them. Which meant that if anything, I was dating way under my own league. And given how hot I knew them to be, that was just batshit-crazy!

The only ‘being’ I knew of who might have been able to compete with any of us was Bline, but Her likeness had faded considerably from my memory after having left Her presence. And as a distant second, I would have to give Mia some credit, as she still looked very nearly identical to Her—at least in the face. Though, I had only ever seen her as a hologram and a few half-remembered dreams, so it was difficult to really compare her to my physical companions.

Then there was Ahnbe, but… well, if I had ever known what She looked like, I certainly did not now. There was just a big void in my head where any of that knowledge might have existed.

She sounded sexy, though. I remembered that much. In a… pop-you-like-a-grape sort of way.

Woof…

Of course, I would soon be meeting Xhinn, as well. Or so her invitation had claimed. Given Her status, I did not doubt She would stack up at least as high as Her sisters. Well enough to quite literally blow my mind, I was sure.

In any case, none of the Dolilim were going to be slowing down any time soon, and if I was having difficulties resisting their charms now, I could just imagine what it would be like a few Layers down the road.

Maybe I should just take that ‘constantly horny’ debuff Mia was talking about. That way, I could quietly quit the field—surrender my sensibilities to the inevitable onslaught of debauchery—and enjoy myself.

Let’s see… what else? Wisdom and Toughness, up. As expected. Thank you for not screwing me over this time, Mia.

And I noticed that the ‘pending’ notice was still up, so I assumed that meant I was still over-leveled. Again, as expected. I would need to be careful not to unintentionally slip into torpor once it became available.

Come to think on it, Arx is going to have that problem for a while now, too. And probably a lot longer than I would.

Hmm… hope that doesn’t come back to bite us.

“Master…” Jax said, cutting into my musings.

When I looked up, I found her expression marred by concern.

“Did I hear that a’right? Ye gots Arx beat by 30… point… summat? Do that mean ye gots a… 30…”

She frowned and began to silently count on her fingers. Then sighed in frustration when she ran out. “Well, more’n 40 Charisma, anyhow. Be that a’right? That don’t sound right.”

I stared at her for a moment, not quite comprehending.

“I said thirty percent, you clodpoll.” Mia stepped away for several seconds to get the irritated swearing out of her system. “Excuse me, my lord. I think I need a lie-down. I have had quite enough for one day. Call me once you decide to spend that skill-point. I have some ideas for you to consider…”

With that, she fell silent. And, I discovered, all eyes were now on me. Waiting.

For a moment, I looked from Jax to Lynnria to my stat block and back again, not quite sure where to begin.

Well, one thing at a time, I guess.

“Jax, it’s a math thing. But we haven’t even gotten to multiplication, so I can’t explain it to you just yet. Don’t worry, we’ll get there. But no. I do not have a 40 in Charisma. It’s only 17.”

“Lynnria—”

The purple-haired girl made a strangled sound in her throat, interrupting me. “Only?!”

I ignored her. “Lynnria… Again, it’s complicated. But the short version is, Ahnbe stabbed me with a glowing finger-thing, and now I get bonus points to Charisma if I invest in stats She happens to like.”

Lynnria began combing through her ponytail nervously. “Mercy’s hands on a dick whistler,” she breathed. “17 Charisma… You weren’t kidding, were you? Even after we found that card, I still half-thought you might have been. But no. You’ve actually been touched by the divine. The Mother of Monsters… literally—”

“Used him fer a fud pump, aye,” Jax supplied bluntly. “Still of two minds about that one, mind. But what’s a Dolilim supposed to do when a goddess rapes her man?”

I winced a bit. Saying that out loud—here, where unseen Faen were almost certainly listening—might not have been the wisest move.

Still not sure if rape is the right word… I mean… other than technically.

It was kind of hard to get mad when someone hot enough to break your mind takes an interest in you. However inappropriately. It probably helped that I could not recall the experience. I was not sure how Lynnria was ultimately going to take that information, either. But if her expression was anything to go by, you would have thought Jax had just started vomiting eels.

Fortunately enough, I was saved from further explanation by Arx’s timely intervention.

“Hey, guys,” she called apprehensively, her head just poking through the crack of the door. “Are we… good? All better now?”

I favored her with a gentle smile, as always just happy to see her again despite the brevity of her absence. Also, because she was kind of a dork.

“I don’t know if ‘better’ is the right word, but we’re not crying anymore,” I reported.

She scowled, then shot a quick glare at Lynnria before narrowing her eyes at me.

“Oh, you meant she was crying,” she deduced with relief. “You should be more specific. I was about to get upset. Now, come on. Our clothes are ready.”

That had been a bit rude but, with how their morality seemed to be aligned, it was not exactly unexpected. But at least she was doing Lynnria the courtesy of not immediately grilling us on all the gossip she had missed.

So I simply nodded before standing, then lent a hand to Lynnria. “I really am sorry you had to go through all that. There… really aren’t words.”

Lynnria let out a long sigh as she came to her feet. “Donum, it’s… I don’t know. It was… I’m not… And now with this? It’s really a lot to take in, a-and—”

“It’s complicated,” I finished for her, smiling.

“Complicated. Right,” she agreed with a rueful shake of her head.

Jax chuckled before gathering us into a companionable hug. “Aye, that’s a’right. We’s all gots the complexions together. Now, lets get dressed up fancy-like so’s the critter what’s jealous she ain’t had a taste o’ the Master yet can air out her panties.”

Lynnria let a sound like she could not decide whether to laugh or cry.

“Whistling dicks…”

*****

“Well? What do you think?” Arx asked as we stepped through the door.

Apparently, she had taken the opportunity to preemptively don her outfit. And from the… interesting expression on her face—somewhere between eager and pained—I assumed she had done so solely to be first in line for compliments. After which, she would begin shredding the garment to ribbons.

Not that I was one for high-fashion, of course. Or particularly good at compliments.

And the outfit… well…?

The top half was a red blouse that looked like something an 18th century blackjack dealer might wear, complete with poofy sleeves, a high collar, and brass buttons. She even had one of those thin, black armbands they liked to wear around one bicep for no apparent reason.

Meanwhile, the bottom half was just a pair of thigh-high tights with some securing straps disappearing up her waistcoat. She was even wearing a bit of a thong. Or some kind of triangle to cover her mons, anyway.

Which meant her butt cheeks and the tail swinging between them were left exposed to the open air. Not that I had a problem with that, but she would probably have gotten herself arrested wearing that in public where I was from.

Unfortunately, whatever the tailor had been going for was being spoiled by the evident discomfort of its wearer. Despite the smile plastered over her features, Arx was fidgeting like she was covered in ants and kept unconsciously scratching and tearing at the material over her chest literally to the point where large rents had opened up to expose her cleavage.

It was kind of funny in an unintentional sort of way. True to the tailor’s word, the garment kept trying to heal itself, which meant it had started sewing over and through the amulet she kept hanging from around her neck. So she seemed to be stuck in a frustrating battle of attrition with the thing.

Then there were the leggings… the bottoms of which had not survived contact with her feet—and the spikes protruding from her toes.

Weirdly… I kind of liked the overall effect. It gave Arx that ‘proper lady cast into a savage land… and become savage in turn’ kind of look that was popular for heroines in those old turn-of-the-century serials. I might have even asked her to keep it…

…minus the thong. Even as slight a covering as that had prompted her vagina to begin literally chewing its way to freedom. Which was… kind of hot. In a disturbing sort of way.

“You look beautiful, Arx,” I lied baldly.

Sexy? Of a certainty and easily, at that. She would have been hard-pressed not to be. Especially with the cleavage she was sporting. I was much more used to the free-hanging look, so it was amazing to see how much bigger they looked once given some support. Which was almost certainly the point of push-up bras, now that I was thinking on it.

However, beautiful? Graceful? Elegant? If anything, she looked more like a feral animal with a foot caught in a bear trap.

“But you would look beautiful in anything.”

She grimaced, having detected the falsehood before I even opened my mouth. However, she still took the attempted complement with grace and curtsied.

“Dearest is too kind,” she managed through her teeth.

“You aren’t even wearing the hat!” came a voice from behind the counter.

Arx did not turn to look at the tailor, which told me all I needed to know about her opinion of whatever this was going to be. However, when I looked…

Honestly, it took me a moment to figure out what I was even supposed to be seeing. The tailor seemed to be gesturing toward a weirdly-symmetric pile of laundry sitting on his counter. Yet, once I got a little closer, I realized it was actually an extremely wide-brimmed hat topped with what had to be hundreds of delicately-folded flowers, all made from a random assortment of cloth textures.

And all of which had been selected from an array that could not have been more violently removed from color theory had the man tried. Which he might well have. Artists could be like that.

All in all—and with the outfit it had been meant to go with—well, if there had ever been a candidate for the most horrible taste to ever be graced with such flawless execution, this was it.

No wonder this crap was so expensive.

Hesitant at first, I began to lift the hat from the counter, only to discover that the thing had to weigh close to thirty pounds.

“Watcher’s breath. Have you tried this thing on yet?”

“It’s a little… big,” she explained. Which was about as diplomatic a reply as this monstrosity could ever warrant.

“Fah! What is a little discomfort in the name of fashion?!” The tailor sniffed. “And stop your scratching! You will wear out the skill enhancement before you even leave the shop.”

Arx grimaced, though if anything the scratching at her cleavage only intensified. “I… can’t. There needs… needsto be a hole here. I can’t… I can’t breatheotherwise.”

I nodded along. If it had been me, I would have stoically let the man dress me in whatever ridiculous outfit he wanted, then go home and hang the thing in a dusty corner of my closet to quietly forget about—something like that hand-knitted sweater you trot out once a year for Christmas just to make your grandmother happy.

However, it was not me, and Arx looked in genuine distress. Plus, I was pretty sure a guy with an attitude like his would expect his clientèle to be just as much up their own ass as he was.

“Yes, I quite agree. Won’t do at all.” I tutted aggressively. “And just lookat what happened to her leggings. Did you forget my companions had claws?”

The man stiffened, caught off-guard, then cleared his throat.

“All part of the process, I assure you. One does not deal in bespoke items without a few… final adjustments,” he assured me coolly. “Here, off with it. I’ll take care of that while the rest of you try on your own selections.”

Behind me, I heard Jax whisper into Lynnria’s ear, “The Master likes to claim a’times he ain’t nobility.”

Lynnria sputtered softly. “Him? A commoner?! How utterly ridiculous.”

*****

Far too much time later, we said our goodbyes to the beaming tailor, two silver richer and smiling like old friends parting after far too many drinks. However, the very moment we closed the door on the man, the lot of us sagged with relief.

“I am notwearing this,” Arx announced, letting her hat fall from her head. Which did not settle to the ground so much as thump.

But at the very least, the rest of her outfit had been fixed. Her leggings had been trimmed back to allow for her claws and hemmed to prevent fraying. Then, they had been secured in place by some sort of leather half-shoe which only served to cover her ankles. Not that they functioned as footwear with the way she walked.

Meanwhile, the blouse had been modified to include a pair of wide lapels so that her ‘girls’ could get some air. These extended down to just below her breasts, leaving a diamond-shaped gap right at the spot where she had previously been scratching.

Naturally, every time I looked at her, she instinctively sucked in a breath sufficient to stretch every button almost to the breaking point. I appreciated the effect, but I had a feeling the garment was not going to last all that long—even with its skill-enhanced repair function.

Unlike the panties, which did not survive much beyond the hat.

“Byech!” She shivered in disgust as she hurled it away. “Feels like that ‘stit-sucking thing gave me a rash!”

“Ye’d a thought ye’d’ve learnt yer lesson,” Jax pointed out. “Why’d y’even bother? Did we nay tell the man ‘no panties’ the last time?”

Arx cast her eyes to the floor, mid-scratch, and shrugged like a penitent child—perhaps, caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“Donum liked Lynnria’s so much, I thought… maybe I could tough it out?”

I had to smile. Of course, that would have been why. It even sweet, given what I knew about how their minds worked.

“Well, in that case, I will accept the sentiment in the spirit in which it was intended,” I said, pulling her close.

She let out a little gasp, perhaps surprised that I would initiate. But that did not lesson her ardor. The kiss we shared was intense for all its brevity, but it was next to impossible for it to be otherwise. There was a kind of magnetism between us. Almost like an event horizon. Beyond it lay inescapable passion.

Thankfully—to my sensibilities if not my libido—Lynnria remained understandably curious enough as to her potential future condition to interrupt us. Kneeling to inspect the discarded cloth with some seriousness, she observed, “I can’t understand why this would bother you so much.” She paused to run the material between her fingers. “It’s so soft… it almost feels like water.”

It had been an innocent observation. Even so, it was enough to drive a wedge through the mounting flames of our desire, and I pulled away before things escalated farther. It had been a near thing. A moment more, and I felt sure the two of us would have been rutting like animals. Which was… well, maybe not weird, exactly. The fitting process had taken some time, so it had been a couple of hours since my last sexual encounter—which had alsobeen interrupted…Damn it.

But this was different.

It had been so long since any of us had worn any realclothes that the experience had become… somehow foreign. It was almost as if those few layers of cloth had created a barrier that we could not help but rebel against. As though enrobing ourselves had become nothing but pantomime. An act. As though clothing itself retained no purpose otherthan to be discarded in sexual frenzy.

I took a steadying breath, suddenly feeling stifled by my own outfit. The damned thing had been hot to begin with, but now?

Admittedly, it was just a long overcoat, but the fabric was so stiff, it hung out and away from my body like a tube. And with a color scheme somewhere in the vicinity of moss, it looked like I was wearing a fuzzy bell assembled by an interior decorator from the 1970’s.

I had been trying to pretend it was a wizard’s robe.

Not that Arx seemed to mind overmuch. From the way she was looking at me, you would have thought my erection was throbbing out in the open air instead of perfectly concealed behind what felt like inches of wool.

“I don’t know if I can describe it, Lynnria,” she said, turning with some reluctance. “Having cloth touch me down there… it’s like being teased? Constantly. But without any of the good parts. It’s like wearing… frustration.”

Lynnria’s expression turned contemplative.

Her own outfit had not changed much beyond the sporting gear I had met her in. When presented with her choice of the display items, she had instead opted to engage in a little bargaining of her own.

To which, the tailor had readily agreed. We were already making out like bandits—from his perspective—so keeping his prized displays had been a welcome alternative.

As a result, Lynnria now had a convenient flap sewn into the seat of her pants for her tail to slip through. She had even convinced the man to stitch together a pair of those odd, toe-less boots he had made for Arx. I had no idea what their appeal was, but she seemed to like them.

“Still. Seems like a waste to just throw it away.”

“Keep it then.” Arx shrugged indifferently. “For however long you can stand it. Maybe you can even use it to cover that nipple on your wrist. Why do you even still have that thing? I thought you guys were going to sort it out in the hall.”

“Leave it be,” Jax warned, drawing my attention her way.

Of the three of us, her outfit was by far the least offensive.

Her dress had an elegant and classic design for all its simplicity. It was just a narrow loop of black cloth draped over her neck that swooped in two pieces down her front. The cloth widened at her breasts, covering them enough for decency but leaving just a hint to tease at a man’s gaze. The two pieces then trailed down her front behind a wide belt she had strapped about her waist like a girdle before appearing again—this time as a solid piece—rather like the front of a loincloth. The flap ended in a diagonal slice somewhere around her ankles.

Much like Arx, she too was sporting a pair of tights, again secured with a set of those nonsensical boots, all of which came together like some sort of faux thigh-highs. Meanwhile, her hair had been bound up with a strip of leather into a wavy ponytail.

I thought she looked sexy as hell. Except for the shoulder pads, which would not have been out of place on the bass player for an 80s hair-metal band.

She even has an ax. Ha!

I had no idea what theme the tailor had been going for. We had a sexy rocker. A sexy gambler… or with the hat, maybe a colorful extra from My Fair Lady? Lynnria, the sports enthusiast. And me. The walking Erlenmeyer flask.

Arx held up her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. Just a little harmless fun. I still don’t see why everyone got so bent out of shape about it.”

“Arx…” Jax growled.

“No, it’s okay,” Lynnria said quickly, forestalling her. “You’re right. No one meant any harm. I was just… well, I’d rather not talk about it anymore.”

Arx nodded uncertainly. “If you say so. Look, Lynnria… I know you’re still getting your bearings, but you said something earlier that’s been eating at me. You are not ‘garbage’ in our eyes. You’re lesser. Which… I realize how that sounds, but there is a world of difference. You’re one of us. Down to your roots. No one here would ever want to hurt you.”

“Aye,” Jax agreed. Shortly and with force.

As twisted and awkward as that compliment had been, a glimmer of a smile still managed to slip past Lynnria’s lips. But she schooled her features quickly. She had already shed her tears.

“I think I’ll take your suggestion,” she announced, and began securing the silken garment about her wrist. “When I do… take care of this thing, I want to do it right. And I’ll need a mirror for that. Until then, this will have to do.”

“Good thinking,” I said approvingly.

I always preferred pragmatism where possible, and now that the big stuff was out in the open, I was happy to see Lynnria making an effort to keep a stiff upper lip. Not that I could claim to have done better. Had our roles been reversed, I would have likely been a wreck. But then, I really did not know how long ago all this had happened to her.

Within the last couple of years anyway.

In any case, it was well past time to change the subject. “Let me know when you find one. I’ve been needing to trim up my beard for ages now.”

“Trim yer beard? Why? What be so wrong with it, I’m asking?” Jax countered immediately.

“There’s a holein it!” I exclaimed, pointing rigidly at my chin and the deep groove Lynnria had accidentally blasted out of my beard.

Arx shook her head, mystified. “Dearest, I don’t think you could look as badly as you think you do if you tried.”

I rolled my eyes. So much bias…

Even with a 17 in Charisma, there was no way a set of malformed and ill-trimmed mutton-chops were going to make me look like anything but a crazed hobo.

“Aye… aye…” Jax agreed musingly, looking me over with a considering eye. “Not liking the new drapes so much, though.”

I quirked an eyebrow. Oh, ho? What’s this? A dissenting opinion?

“Jax!” Arx gasped, scandalized. “He’s our master!”

Jax put hands to hips. “And what about it? Ye think he wants us fawning over him all the time? Nay! ‘Sides… just look at him! Covered head to toe like that? Don’t tell me ye’d not rather be seeing at least a touch of ankle. He’s even got long sleeves! How’s we supposed to see his forearms?”

Arx looked like she wanted to argue, but then she sent a contemplative glance my way. For some reason. Forearms? Ankles?! What?

“I think I’m going to have to agree with Jax,” Lynnria put in, drawing my look of mounting confusion her way.

“Right…” I sighed, deciding it best not to ask. “I’m not much of a fan of it myself. This thing is practically a sauna. And while we’re on the subject… maybe you should lose the shoulder pads, Jax?”

She pouted slightly before tilting one shoulder down to inspect it. “Really? I thought they made me look tough. A Warrior proper. Even if I ain’t got no armor.”

“What good would lookinglike armor do?” Arx argued, latching onto the topic now that it had strayed from me. “Besides, we both know you wouldn’t wear any even if you owned a set.”

“There be truth in that,” Jax admitted weakly. “It’s just… I never had no fancy claes a’fore. Like them minted sorts? Seems a shame to cut bits away.”

“Jax, I’m not going to claim to know much about high fashion, but all the wealthy people I’ve ever met seem to favor elegance and simplicity.”

Of course, by ‘met,’ I meant, ‘seen on TV.’

“But that’s only when it comes to my own kind. What do you think, Lynnria?” I asked. She was the only person I knew of who had traveled in those circles.

“If you’re asking about that guy’s fashion sense…” Lynnria began, “he’s not far off the mark for what the bigger laoi Clans like to wear. Although, they all like to have unified themes for the Clan with slight differences in cut and color to signify the family. His style seems to be all over the place.”

“What do you expect, going to a jauneau tailor in laoi territory?” Arx retorted. “Not many of them west of the Raemuth. He’s probably just imitating what he’s seen around here without understanding the why of it.”

A jauneau? Is that what his race is called?

Of course, I had never heard of the Raemuth, either. But from context, I assumed it was either a river or a mountain range. I decided to just nod sagely.

“Ah, well…” Jax gestured for Arx’s knife with a sigh and began cutting away the pads. “Big, floppy tadgers like these probably would’ve ripped clean off the first time we got into it, anyway.”

Arx winced. “‘Snails, Jax. Did you have to phrase it like that? The master is standing right there!”

I glanced between the two of them for a moment, a little lost. I still had no idea what a ‘tadger’ was but, with how often Jax used the word, by that point I was too afraid to ask.

Feeling awkward, I snatched up Arx’s hat and began fiddling with it. Out here, with the lighting being so much better, it was obvious how much effort the tailor had put into making the thing. It was just a shame he was totally colorblind. There really was no other reasonable explanation.

Hmm… what’s this metal bit?

About then, the doorknob to the tailor’s shop fell clean off, leaving nothing behind save bare wood. Which was not so surprising, all considered. If there was one thing I was getting used to in this place, it was that passages tended to seal themselves rather permanently once used.

However, that represented a change and, as per the pattern we had earlier noted, we paused expectantly for the coming vibrations. And it was fortunate we had.

The ground did not vibrate so much as lurch out from under our feet, causing the lot of us to stumble, brace ourselves on furniture, or simply collapse to the floor depending on Agility. But it was over quickly.

“Whatever that is, it’s getting worse,” Arx observed, the only one of us who had been unaffected.

“Ye don’t say,” Jax groaned dryly. “Lucky I did nay stab meself with this poker o’ yer’n.”

“Are you alright, Donum?” Lynnria called.

“I’m good!”

My voice had been a bit muffled by the textile topiary I had fallen into, so I had needed to raise my voice. But as I found my feet again, the little bit of metal I had discovered came away into my hand, revealing itself to be an overlarge hat-pin. And somehow, it had been the only thing holding the entire mass of flowers in place.

I stared in shock as the large bushel fell about my ankles, the now naked hat in one hand and the huge needle in the other. I felt like I had just desecrated a sculpture.

“It’s alright, Dearest,” Arx said comfortingly. “I was going to leave it here, anyway.”

“I know. It’s just… well, the guy had to have spent so much time on it…”

“Not like he ever needs to know,” Jax observed. “Even if we could tell ‘im.”

I tilted my head to one side. That was true enough. Still…

I eyed the remainder of the hat consideringly. Without the flowers, it was just a sad, floppy affair… with an extremely wide brim.

I pursed my lips. Hmm…

Giving the thing a bit of a flourish, I settled the hat on my head and gave it an experimental little jiggle. The sides waggled from side to side jauntily, as though pleased someone might actually consider wearing it.

“What do you think?” I asked. “Wizard’s hat!”

The girls stared at me with varying levels of confusion. I doubted ‘wizard’s hat’ had ever entered their cultural zeitgeist, but I did not care.

It was cool.

As ever, Jax was the first to speak. “I still think ye should show some forearm, mate. Maybe a bit o’ cock?”

Okay, that’s more like it. I wrinkled my nose at her. “Hush, you.”

And that was when a screech of metal, bringing to mind massive gears falling into place and grinding into motion, sounded in our ears.

The next instant, the door stirred… then slowly began drifting to our left.