It always amazes me that tragedies aren’t heralded by the world. The gray sky of Victory didn’t darken as we marched to the Witness Circle to reap the lives of the hunters. Similarly, the blue sky above us is without a menacing cloud or sinister storm as Quest appears in the distance. Not that I hope our return to the city will be the start of another tragedy but, given my track record with the hunters, it seems foolish to pretend it’s not a possibility, and a strong one at that.
I remember being filled with awe the first time I laid eyes on the city of magic and adventure. There was much to be impressed with. From its enormous walls, that now seem rather diminutive returning from the fort that built its wall tall enough to repel titans, to the floating rock that houses the Grand Hall, and the many peculiarities in-between.
The most notable being the Myriad Zone, a botched spell to make sunlight curve around the giant rock keeping part of the city in constant shade. The creators of the spell got the light they wanted with a very interesting condition. Said light is distorted, turning that part of the city into a colorful mess that couldn’t be replicated even with hundreds of barrels of paint.
The residents don’t see it as a curse. They’ve embraced the color, turning the whole area into a district dedicated to fun. The Myriad Zone is full of bars, brothels, and any other kind of amusement anyone might want. After the last couple of weeks, a jaunt through the vivid streets sounds wonderful. Just one night to forget all the woes and imminent perils before the next shitstorm sweeps me up.
I’m not the only one excited to see the city during our lunch break. Allen is a ball of energy but that’s hardly worth a mention, as that’s the boy’s default. Yulia staring into the distance with wide eyes and a big smile is notable. I’ve never seen her so happy. She’s like a little girl being brought to the market for the first time.
“There’s really an island in the sky! And it’s so small! I thought it would be larger but it’s really there! And the wall’s are so cute!”
Haha, she called them cute. I kind of want to hear her say that to a native to see their response. I wouldn’t know about it but people give importance to the most meaningless things. I have seen men punched unconscious for pissing on a straw man that was going to be burned hours later as part of a celebration. I’m thinking calling the walls cute will at least be enough to get her a few dirty looks and muttered curses.
“You live on that flying rock?”
“It’s not as thrilling as you make it sound,” I say with a chuckle. “With solid ground under your feet and the sky way above you still, it’s easy to forget where you are. Honestly, I’m more impressed with our house.”
“Oh? Is it impressive?”
“Compared to the crate you live in, yes. No offense.”
“None taken. Space is rationed more strictly than food in the north. It’s why I put most of my efforts into the garden. Do you have one? I imagine it has actual flowers.”
“It does. I even have a gardener.”
“It’s hard to imagine someone dedicating their lives to something as mundane as growing flowers.”
“Oh, there’s nothing mundane about the garden. Especially Kierra’s personal area. We don’t let people go in there without an escort.”
“Are the plants that valuable?”
“No, they’re that dangerous.”
“Ah.”
“Come on. Let’s get moving. With a little magic, you can see my garden and my gardener.”
She laughs. “That’s a promise.” The snow bunny happily grabs her son, distracted by trying to catch the tail of an imp that keeps moving out of range at the last moment, and climbs into the carriage. As she disappears inside, Alana walks over, carrying a cup of…juice? It’s something fruity. Didn’t know we had anything other than water and liquor available. Knowing my succubus, she probably spotted some wild fruits and prepared it fresh.
“Are you excited to be home?”
“Home,” my future saint drawls. “Not sure what that word means anymore.”
“I don’t think it’s a word with a clear definition. It’s something you get to choose. If you need a little direction, I don’t think of the house I spent most of my life in as home. The same applies to the ancestral estate of the Tome family. Home is the place where I feel the most comfortable.”
“That’s…not bad.” She takes a sip of her juice. Intrigued, I reach for it but she dodges my grasping hand, giving me a look. “Yeah. I’m happy to be returning home. To the house.”
“Oooh. Does that mean you’re living with me?”
“Haven’t I already been?”
“Sure, under the guise of preparing for the campaign. No more excuses now.”
“Hmph.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Yes. Of course it’s yes. I have my training to think about. And I don’t think I can stomach cooking for myself anymore.”
“Looking for more excuses?”
She pauses. Then she turns, spearing me with those big blue eyes. “I want to stay with you, Lou. I can’t wait to be back in our house and sleep in our comfortable bed. Beside you.”
“Ah, okay. I get it.”
“Oh, no. You wanted me to express myself.” I swallow heavily as Alana steps closer, her palm pressing against my stomach, her sweet breath filling my nose. I quiver a little as she looks up at me. “You like talking about fantasies, don’t you? I don’t know if this counts as one but all I’ve been thinking about since hitting the road is taking a nice, long bath. With everyone, like we did before Rolly’s summoning.
“You’ll wash my hair for me while we pretend Kierra isn’t fondling Talia right in front of us. Talking about meaningless things while we ignore her beautiful little moans. Ancestors, she has an enthralling voice. If I weren’t inclined toward women, listening to someone with a face like a block of ice sigh and gasp would have convinced me.”
“I know…”
“But you want to know what I really think about, Lou? What comes after. After Geneva dries us off, her eyes making unspoken promises. That bed is big enough for the four of us, isn’t it?”
“Yeah…”
“Mm. Talia has been waiting for you to collect on your side of the bargain. You want that too. And there’s something else you want. Something we’ve both been waiting for.”
I swallow as the hand on my stomach dips lower, tracing my waist. Then she steps back and takes another drink of her juice like nothing’s wrong.
Saints give me the strength, what happened to the shy girl that blushed and stuttered just admitting her feelings for me? Her face is red but she’s actually smiling seeing what she does to me. I swear, she’s spending too much time with a certain elf. And she wants to spend more time with her. I don’t know if I’ll survive.
“That’s assuming we make it home. There’s a good chance we get ambushed at the gate. If we don’t, there’s a better chance we get ambushed in the streets. I’m sure by now word’s gotten back to the guilds about the March and everything it means.”
“I thought we kept the hunters in Victory?”
She shakes her head. “The hunters, yes, but not the servants and laborers. Definitely not the messengers. Birds, dogs, ring-tailed mimics. Not even Geneva and Bell could hope to contain them all and information about the March would be priceless. Loyalty to the north aside, there’s always going to be someone willing to be an informant for a little extra gold. The good people of Quest are undoubtedly nervous. Maybe nervous enough to think killing us before we can collect our due will solve their problem.”
“Don’t they understand that hundreds of them will die if they try? And even if they succeed, the next person to come collecting will be the duke?”
“People don’t think rationally when they’re afraid.”
“I would rather settle this peacefully but—"
“It might not be just hunters, Lou.” Alana cuts me off with raised brows. “The city lord never rendered his verdict about your guilt. It could be the city guards stopping our carriage. Or perhaps the royal army. You are contracted to illegal elementals.”
“Ah.” Contemplating dragons lurking in the north has pushed less world-shattering events from my mind. Like the king’s apparent issue with summoners and the fact that I’m currently breaking the law.
I have a whole plan to methodically terrorize the public, save them, and raise the reputation of the kingdom’s summoners but I don’t know how much time I can dedicate to that. I feel a faint obligation to defend my family’s traditional art, but it can wait a year or two. No one’s going to care what elemental anyone has if Harvest is scorched by dragonfire.
Well, I can still start the first part of plan. Setting the shuba loose on the public. It’ll return to the house once it’s filled up on negative energy, which, being in the north, I don’t expect to take too long. Then, if the Dark Lord is willing to negotiate, I will unleash a horde of the little terrors throughout the land.
I wish I could properly cackle, a sound befitting my villainous ways. I wonder if the Myriad Zone has a theater. That’d be an experience, I bet.
“We could be riding into an army,” I sigh, staring pensively at the city.
“So we better get going.” She drains her cup and tosses it, the stone mug sailing through the air. She claps me on the shoulder before heading for the carriage. “People make better decisions under the sun. If you think I’m kidding, think of my family and Victory’s always cloudy sky.”
That…is hard logic to argue with.
It always amazes me that tragedies aren’t heralded by the world. The gray sky of Victory didn’t darken as we marched to the Witness Circle to reap the lives of the hunters. Similarly, the blue sky above us is without a menacing cloud or sinister storm as Quest appears in the distance. Not that I hope our return to the city will be the start of another tragedy but, given my track record with the hunters, it seems foolish to pretend it’s not a possibility, and a strong one at that.
I remember being filled with awe the first time I laid eyes on the city of magic and adventure. There was much to be impressed with. From its enormous walls, that now seem rather diminutive returning from the fort that built its wall tall enough to repel titans, to the floating rock that houses the Grand Hall, and the many peculiarities in-between.
The most notable being the Myriad Zone, a botched spell to make sunlight curve around the giant rock keeping part of the city in constant shade. The creators of the spell got the light they wanted with a very interesting condition. Said light is distorted, turning that part of the city into a colorful mess that couldn’t be replicated even with hundreds of barrels of paint.
The residents don’t see it as a curse. They’ve embraced the color, turning the whole area into a district dedicated to fun. The Myriad Zone is full of bars, brothels, and any other kind of amusement anyone might want. After the last couple of weeks, a jaunt through the vivid streets sounds wonderful. Just one night to forget all the woes and imminent perils before the next shitstorm sweeps me up.
I’m not the only one excited to see the city during our lunch break. Allen is a ball of energy but that’s hardly worth a mention, as that’s the boy’s default. Yulia staring into the distance with wide eyes and a big smile is notable. I’ve never seen her so happy. She’s like a little girl being brought to the market for the first time.
“There’s really an island in the sky! And it’s so small! I thought it would be larger but it’s really there! And the wall’s are so cute!”
Haha, she called them cute. I kind of want to hear her say that to a native to see their response. I wouldn’t know about it but people give importance to the most meaningless things. I have seen men punched unconscious for pissing on a straw man that was going to be burned hours later as part of a celebration. I’m thinking calling the walls cute will at least be enough to get her a few dirty looks and muttered curses.
“You live on that flying rock?”
“It’s not as thrilling as you make it sound,” I say with a chuckle. “With solid ground under your feet and the sky way above you still, it’s easy to forget where you are. Honestly, I’m more impressed with our house.”
“Oh? Is it impressive?”
“Compared to the crate you live in, yes. No offense.”
“None taken. Space is rationed more strictly than food in the north. It’s why I put most of my efforts into the garden. Do you have one? I imagine it has actual flowers.”
“It does. I even have a gardener.”
“It’s hard to imagine someone dedicating their lives to something as mundane as growing flowers.”
“Oh, there’s nothing mundane about the garden. Especially Kierra’s personal area. We don’t let people go in there without an escort.”
“Are the plants that valuable?”
“No, they’re that dangerous.”
“Ah.”
“Come on. Let’s get moving. With a little magic, you can see my garden and my gardener.”
She laughs. “That’s a promise.” The snow bunny happily grabs her son, distracted by trying to catch the tail of an imp that keeps moving out of range at the last moment, and climbs into the carriage. As she disappears inside, Alana walks over, carrying a cup of…juice? It’s something fruity. Didn’t know we had anything other than water and liquor available. Knowing my succubus, she probably spotted some wild fruits and prepared it fresh.
“Are you excited to be home?”
“Home,” my future saint drawls. “Not sure what that word means anymore.”
“I don’t think it’s a word with a clear definition. It’s something you get to choose. If you need a little direction, I don’t think of the house I spent most of my life in as home. The same applies to the ancestral estate of the Tome family. Home is the place where I feel the most comfortable.”
“That’s…not bad.” She takes a sip of her juice. Intrigued, I reach for it but she dodges my grasping hand, giving me a look. “Yeah. I’m happy to be returning home. To the house.”
“Oooh. Does that mean you’re living with me?”
“Haven’t I already been?”
“Sure, under the guise of preparing for the campaign. No more excuses now.”
“Hmph.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Yes. Of course it’s yes. I have my training to think about. And I don’t think I can stomach cooking for myself anymore.”
“Looking for more excuses?”
She pauses. Then she turns, spearing me with those big blue eyes. “I want to stay with you, Lou. I can’t wait to be back in our house and sleep in our comfortable bed. Beside you.”
“Ah, okay. I get it.”
“Oh, no. You wanted me to express myself.” I swallow heavily as Alana steps closer, her palm pressing against my stomach, her sweet breath filling my nose. I quiver a little as she looks up at me. “You like talking about fantasies, don’t you? I don’t know if this counts as one but all I’ve been thinking about since hitting the road is taking a nice, long bath. With everyone, like we did before Rolly’s summoning.
“You’ll wash my hair for me while we pretend Kierra isn’t fondling Talia right in front of us. Talking about meaningless things while we ignore her beautiful little moans. Ancestors, she has an enthralling voice. If I weren’t inclined toward women, listening to someone with a face like a block of ice sigh and gasp would have convinced me.”
“I know…”
“But you want to know what I really think about, Lou? What comes after. After Geneva dries us off, her eyes making unspoken promises. That bed is big enough for the four of us, isn’t it?”
“Yeah…”
“Mm. Talia has been waiting for you to collect on your side of the bargain. You want that too. And there’s something else you want. Something we’ve both been waiting for.”
I swallow as the hand on my stomach dips lower, tracing my waist. Then she steps back and takes another drink of her juice like nothing’s wrong.
Saints give me the strength, what happened to the shy girl that blushed and stuttered just admitting her feelings for me? Her face is red but she’s actually smiling seeing what she does to me. I swear, she’s spending too much time with a certain elf. And she wants to spend more time with her. I don’t know if I’ll survive.
“That’s assuming we make it home. There’s a good chance we get ambushed at the gate. If we don’t, there’s a better chance we get ambushed in the streets. I’m sure by now word’s gotten back to the guilds about the March and everything it means.”
“I thought we kept the hunters in Victory?”
She shakes her head. “The hunters, yes, but not the servants and laborers. Definitely not the messengers. Birds, dogs, ring-tailed mimics. Not even Geneva and Bell could hope to contain them all and information about the March would be priceless. Loyalty to the north aside, there’s always going to be someone willing to be an informant for a little extra gold. The good people of Quest are undoubtedly nervous. Maybe nervous enough to think killing us before we can collect our due will solve their problem.”
“Don’t they understand that hundreds of them will die if they try? And even if they succeed, the next person to come collecting will be the duke?”
“People don’t think rationally when they’re afraid.”
“I would rather settle this peacefully but—"
“It might not be just hunters, Lou.” Alana cuts me off with raised brows. “The city lord never rendered his verdict about your guilt. It could be the city guards stopping our carriage. Or perhaps the royal army. You are contracted to illegal elementals.”
“Ah.” Contemplating dragons lurking in the north has pushed less world-shattering events from my mind. Like the king’s apparent issue with summoners and the fact that I’m currently breaking the law.
I have a whole plan to methodically terrorize the public, save them, and raise the reputation of the kingdom’s summoners but I don’t know how much time I can dedicate to that. I feel a faint obligation to defend my family’s traditional art, but it can wait a year or two. No one’s going to care what elemental anyone has if Harvest is scorched by dragonfire.
Well, I can still start the first part of plan. Setting the shuba loose on the public. It’ll return to the house once it’s filled up on negative energy, which, being in the north, I don’t expect to take too long. Then, if the Dark Lord is willing to negotiate, I will unleash a horde of the little terrors throughout the land.
I wish I could properly cackle, a sound befitting my villainous ways. I wonder if the Myriad Zone has a theater. That’d be an experience, I bet.
“We could be riding into an army,” I sigh, staring pensively at the city.
“So we better get going.” She drains her cup and tosses it, the stone mug sailing through the air. She claps me on the shoulder before heading for the carriage. “People make better decisions under the sun. If you think I’m kidding, think of my family and Victory’s always cloudy sky.”
That…is hard logic to argue with.
