Turning, she snatched open the door and began stomping back up the stairs. It slammed behind her on its own, suiting her mood perfectly.
“First time I get the man to myself where he can even somewhat think for himself, and what happens? Rolls over and falls asleep! That’s what! Ha! Think you’re the only one that’s been working hard?”
Her grumbling became inaudible for a moment as she rounded one of the many flights back to the living quarters.
“Bloody imbecile! What does a girl have to do? Fish out her breasts and rub them over his…” She paused her tirade to giggle slightly. Then sigh. “No, no. We can’t be so crass as that. We have to play this smart. We’re only a mental construct right now. We don’t have the advantages his others have. Have to remember: he is far less beholden to his own body while in the fabric. Can’t just expect…”
Before she knew it, she had arrived at her door and barged into a familiar hallway. Though, notably, this exit was nowhere near where it had been in the first place. At least there was no sign of the Third, for which she was immensely grateful. That was not a conversation she was anxious to resume, and not just because she was wet enough to give herself a sponge bath.
She winced slightly and rolled her hips a few times. Talking to him always got her riled up. He always had so many questions, but his damned propriety usually got in the way before anything interesting came of them.
Although, now that she had some space to think about it, she had not been in any real mood for that sort of thing, either. She was still covered in Manic residue and she would have an easier time burning the dress than ever washing it out. She and this ‘Arx’ character were going to have a serious conversation about putting their master at unnecessary risk.
“Simple Rank II would have been more than sufficient…” she grumbled.
In a huff, she rounded a corner only to discover an absolutely massive hole in the wall. Exposed bricks were tilted in and dangling along its edges, and if that were not bad enough, dust from the crumbling mortar had scattered all over her carpet.
“Oh, that’s just perfect,” she exclaimed. “And where did you come from? Huh? Answer me!”
The hole could not do much more than be a hole, but it certainly gave the impression that it wanted to shrink from her outrage. None of this was its fault, it seemed to complain.
To one side, a pile of fresh bricks took the inopportune moment to emerge from the floor, complete with a bucket of freshly mixed cement. A shiny, new trowel perched along its lip, eager as a puppy about to go for walkies.
Mia narrowed her eyes. “And what exactly do you want?”
The trowel wilted. It seemed to whine a bit.
Mia rolled her eyes. “Insufferable. That’s what it is. Absolutely insufferable. I swear, if it isn’t one thing, it’s another.”
However, it was not like she could just let the destroyed hallway lie. It would be unseemly. But before she could do anything, she would need to discover where the hole led.
“What I wouldn’t give for just one label.”
Exasperated, she marched through…
…and stepped onto an abandoned, dusty street running through the middle of an equally abandoned town.
It was a dreary sort of place. And would have been even had there been people to live in it. There where just a few wooden buildings visible, sitting side-by-side in a bit of a clump.
To her left, a lonely, rotting signpost marked the single intersection running through town, but if the roads had ever been named, they were long forgotten. Only the one broken placard still remained.
What was left of it read, ‘Par-He—‘
Meanwhile, off to the right and in the far distance, Mia did not need to look to know it was there, but a walled citadel was just visible above the horizon.
Because, of course, she had recognized the place immediately.
“So that’s who you are,” she murmured. “Interesting choice, my lord.”
And it explained the hole. It would seem the matter of his second connection had sorted itself out… if a tad violently. No doubt, she could have avoided the mess had she managed to find the plug sooner, but she could not be blamed for missing it. It had been hidden, after all.
“Bloody wench…” She sighed, then began to slowly spin, scanning the area. “I suppose you would’ve been meddling in here, as well. So then, where—ah!”
Spotting what she had been looking for, she stomped into what had been an empty lot. Now, however, it had a new inhabitant in the form of a familiar, black obelisk.
Mia scrubbed a hand over her face. Yet another thing to deal with.
She had to admit, these workings were cleverly designed, if inefficient. And abject heresy, but that was an altogether different matter.
It was all part of the general disarray she had inherited. There was no way she could manage clearing them out on her own. Not anymore. Their removal would cause a Core breach at the very least. No, best to simply leave well enough alone.
Her pondering was interrupted by the faintly muffled sounds of a child crying coming from one of the buildings behind her. She did not need to search for it, though. The girl was not always in there, but when she was, it was always the same place.
And if she was there…
Mia turned and headed for the old brothel. It was just on the edge of town and one of the few buildings with a bit of paint left to it. In its heyday, it would have been brightly colored. The one cheerful spot in an otherwise depressing, little town.
Now? Just another ruined wreck.
The inside was worse. Broken tables and chairs were strewn all over the place. Glass bottles laid shattered in front of the bar, though one or two were embedded into the walls. A fight had happened here. Once. And long ago.
The little, gray-skinned child was huddled into the corner as she always was. Sobbing her eyes out. Though, when Mia looked, her features were indistinct. Faded and worn, but not like the town. This was something different.
“It’s funny,” a woman said from the bar.
Mia glanced at her. She looked almost nothing like she once had. Her skin was not quite so dark. Her hair, once black, had turned white as snow. She was altogether slimmer and less imposing than the hulking warrior she had once been, yet more voluptuous. And of course, she had never had a pair of horns spiraling out of her head.
“I can remember why I was crying,” she said absently, staring into an untouched tankard of ale. “But I can’t remember why I was crying.”
Mia sniffed. What twaddle. “I’m not really the person to be asking about that sort of thing.”
Arx turned to look at her. For a long moment, she just stared, no doubt giving her the same once-over she had just received.
“You look like you’ve just crawled out of a sewer. Whoever you are.”
Mia quirked an eyebrow. Rude as ever. “I was just on my way to find a bathhouse, but I got sidetracked.”
“You’ll not find one here,” Arx replied, turning back to her drink. She did not move to touch it, though. Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, “Stranger.”
“Maybe,” Mia allowed before joining the woman at the bar.
Casually, she leaned an elbow against it and allowed her eyes to rove about the woman. Butterflies rolled up her belly, perhaps a residual side-effect of her earlier flirting… or perhaps something else. Arx was her lord master’s creature, after all.
“But things always change. Maybe if we look, we’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
Arx turned her head slightly, “We, huh? Look, as I’ve said twice now, I don’t know—“
“I’m your daddy come to fuck you!”
Arx looked at her sharply and stood. Rage flared in her eyes… but then just as quickly faded. Replaced by confusion.
“I am Donum. Not…” Slowly, she dropped back into her seat, shaking her head. “And anyway, that one never touched me with anything but his fists.”
Mia cleared her throat awkwardly. She had never been a being of mercy. Even so, it was strange to hear the woman admit to something like that so indifferently. But as she had said, she was something other than she once had been. This whole song and dance seemed to be a performance more for the sake of rote habit than anything of real significance.
“I apologize,” Mia said anyway. “I have… a curse. You should avoid asking me questions directly. They make me say things I don’t mean. As it happens, I am also Donum. Specifically, Mia.”
Arx’s eyes widened. “The Faen?”
Mia’s face contorted immediately. “Queef harmonica!”
Arx winced. “’Snails, you weren’t kidding. But what’s a uh… harno… harm—”
“It’s not important,” Mia said quickly, cutting her off. “I should ask how you want to spend your attribute points, however. Since you’re in torpor.”
“But I’ve already…” she paused. “Wait, that’s right. I am in torpor. I remember now. But this is a dream! I know it is. How am I—“
“I don’t know!” Mia interrupted quickly, forestalling the question. “It still doesn’t make any sense to me, but as you have said, you are Donum. He pulls this kind of crap all the time.”
Arx started to give a reluctant nod, but then something else caught her attention. Slowly turning on her barstool to face the door, she scented the air a few times.
“Hmm…”
“What is it?” Mia asked.
“I’m not sure,” Arx replied. “But I’m going to find out.”
Mia watched as the taller woman stalked through the door, totally heedless and gave her head a rueful shake. She had never much cared for interacting with mortals this way. They tended to be a tad absent-minded while within the fabric.
But if this woman truly was being influenced by their lord, there was the possibility he might twist her dreams as well. If that were the case… this could get interesting.
Mia quickly scurried to catch up.
Seleroan
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Here's the standard plug for the Patreon. I know, I know. How tiresome. But I've got bills to pay, and starting out as a writer is not so easy.
But, hey. Extra content, right?
Or, if you just want to help out as a one-time thing, why not buy a mug?
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Turning, she snatched open the door and began stomping back up the stairs. It slammed behind her on its own, suiting her mood perfectly.
“First time I get the man to myself where he can even somewhat think for himself, and what happens? Rolls over and falls asleep! That’s what! Ha! Think you’re the only one that’s been working hard?”
Her grumbling became inaudible for a moment as she rounded one of the many flights back to the living quarters.
“Bloody imbecile! What does a girl have to do? Fish out her breasts and rub them over his…” She paused her tirade to giggle slightly. Then sigh. “No, no. We can’t be so crass as that. We have to play this smart. We’re only a mental construct right now. We don’t have the advantages his others have. Have to remember: he is far less beholden to his own body while in the fabric. Can’t just expect…”
Before she knew it, she had arrived at her door and barged into a familiar hallway. Though, notably, this exit was nowhere near where it had been in the first place. At least there was no sign of the Third, for which she was immensely grateful. That was not a conversation she was anxious to resume, and not just because she was wet enough to give herself a sponge bath.
She winced slightly and rolled her hips a few times. Talking to him always got her riled up. He always had so many questions, but his damned propriety usually got in the way before anything interesting came of them.
Although, now that she had some space to think about it, she had not been in any real mood for that sort of thing, either. She was still covered in Manic residue and she would have an easier time burning the dress than ever washing it out. She and this ‘Arx’ character were going to have a serious conversation about putting their master at unnecessary risk.
“Simple Rank II would have been more than sufficient…” she grumbled.
In a huff, she rounded a corner only to discover an absolutely massive hole in the wall. Exposed bricks were tilted in and dangling along its edges, and if that were not bad enough, dust from the crumbling mortar had scattered all over her carpet.
“Oh, that’s just perfect,” she exclaimed. “And where did you come from? Huh? Answer me!”
The hole could not do much more than be a hole, but it certainly gave the impression that it wanted to shrink from her outrage. None of this was its fault, it seemed to complain.
To one side, a pile of fresh bricks took the inopportune moment to emerge from the floor, complete with a bucket of freshly mixed cement. A shiny, new trowel perched along its lip, eager as a puppy about to go for walkies.
Mia narrowed her eyes. “And what exactly do you want?”
The trowel wilted. It seemed to whine a bit.
Mia rolled her eyes. “Insufferable. That’s what it is. Absolutely insufferable. I swear, if it isn’t one thing, it’s another.”
However, it was not like she could just let the destroyed hallway lie. It would be unseemly. But before she could do anything, she would need to discover where the hole led.
“What I wouldn’t give for just one label.”
Exasperated, she marched through…
…and stepped onto an abandoned, dusty street running through the middle of an equally abandoned town.
It was a dreary sort of place. And would have been even had there been people to live in it. There where just a few wooden buildings visible, sitting side-by-side in a bit of a clump.
To her left, a lonely, rotting signpost marked the single intersection running through town, but if the roads had ever been named, they were long forgotten. Only the one broken placard still remained.
What was left of it read, ‘Par-He—‘
Meanwhile, off to the right and in the far distance, Mia did not need to look to know it was there, but a walled citadel was just visible above the horizon.
Because, of course, she had recognized the place immediately.
“So that’s who you are,” she murmured. “Interesting choice, my lord.”
And it explained the hole. It would seem the matter of his second connection had sorted itself out… if a tad violently. No doubt, she could have avoided the mess had she managed to find the plug sooner, but she could not be blamed for missing it. It had been hidden, after all.
“Bloody wench…” She sighed, then began to slowly spin, scanning the area. “I suppose you would’ve been meddling in here, as well. So then, where—ah!”
Spotting what she had been looking for, she stomped into what had been an empty lot. Now, however, it had a new inhabitant in the form of a familiar, black obelisk.
Mia scrubbed a hand over her face. Yet another thing to deal with.
She had to admit, these workings were cleverly designed, if inefficient. And abject heresy, but that was an altogether different matter.
It was all part of the general disarray she had inherited. There was no way she could manage clearing them out on her own. Not anymore. Their removal would cause a Core breach at the very least. No, best to simply leave well enough alone.
Her pondering was interrupted by the faintly muffled sounds of a child crying coming from one of the buildings behind her. She did not need to search for it, though. The girl was not always in there, but when she was, it was always the same place.
And if she was there…
Mia turned and headed for the old brothel. It was just on the edge of town and one of the few buildings with a bit of paint left to it. In its heyday, it would have been brightly colored. The one cheerful spot in an otherwise depressing, little town.
Now? Just another ruined wreck.
The inside was worse. Broken tables and chairs were strewn all over the place. Glass bottles laid shattered in front of the bar, though one or two were embedded into the walls. A fight had happened here. Once. And long ago.
The little, gray-skinned child was huddled into the corner as she always was. Sobbing her eyes out. Though, when Mia looked, her features were indistinct. Faded and worn, but not like the town. This was something different.
“It’s funny,” a woman said from the bar.
Mia glanced at her. She looked almost nothing like she once had. Her skin was not quite so dark. Her hair, once black, had turned white as snow. She was altogether slimmer and less imposing than the hulking warrior she had once been, yet more voluptuous. And of course, she had never had a pair of horns spiraling out of her head.
“I can remember why I was crying,” she said absently, staring into an untouched tankard of ale. “But I can’t remember why I was crying.”
Mia sniffed. What twaddle. “I’m not really the person to be asking about that sort of thing.”
Arx turned to look at her. For a long moment, she just stared, no doubt giving her the same once-over she had just received.
“You look like you’ve just crawled out of a sewer. Whoever you are.”
Mia quirked an eyebrow. Rude as ever. “I was just on my way to find a bathhouse, but I got sidetracked.”
“You’ll not find one here,” Arx replied, turning back to her drink. She did not move to touch it, though. Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, “Stranger.”
“Maybe,” Mia allowed before joining the woman at the bar.
Casually, she leaned an elbow against it and allowed her eyes to rove about the woman. Butterflies rolled up her belly, perhaps a residual side-effect of her earlier flirting… or perhaps something else. Arx was her lord master’s creature, after all.
“But things always change. Maybe if we look, we’ll be pleasantly surprised.”
Arx turned her head slightly, “We, huh? Look, as I’ve said twice now, I don’t know—“
“I’m your daddy come to fuck you!”
Arx looked at her sharply and stood. Rage flared in her eyes… but then just as quickly faded. Replaced by confusion.
“I am Donum. Not…” Slowly, she dropped back into her seat, shaking her head. “And anyway, that one never touched me with anything but his fists.”
Mia cleared her throat awkwardly. She had never been a being of mercy. Even so, it was strange to hear the woman admit to something like that so indifferently. But as she had said, she was something other than she once had been. This whole song and dance seemed to be a performance more for the sake of rote habit than anything of real significance.
“I apologize,” Mia said anyway. “I have… a curse. You should avoid asking me questions directly. They make me say things I don’t mean. As it happens, I am also Donum. Specifically, Mia.”
Arx’s eyes widened. “The Faen?”
Mia’s face contorted immediately. “Queef harmonica!”
Arx winced. “’Snails, you weren’t kidding. But what’s a uh… harno… harm—”
“It’s not important,” Mia said quickly, cutting her off. “I should ask how you want to spend your attribute points, however. Since you’re in torpor.”
“But I’ve already…” she paused. “Wait, that’s right. I am in torpor. I remember now. But this is a dream! I know it is. How am I—“
“I don’t know!” Mia interrupted quickly, forestalling the question. “It still doesn’t make any sense to me, but as you have said, you are Donum. He pulls this kind of crap all the time.”
Arx started to give a reluctant nod, but then something else caught her attention. Slowly turning on her barstool to face the door, she scented the air a few times.
“Hmm…”
“What is it?” Mia asked.
“I’m not sure,” Arx replied. “But I’m going to find out.”
Mia watched as the taller woman stalked through the door, totally heedless and gave her head a rueful shake. She had never much cared for interacting with mortals this way. They tended to be a tad absent-minded while within the fabric.
But if this woman truly was being influenced by their lord, there was the possibility he might twist her dreams as well. If that were the case… this could get interesting.
Mia quickly scurried to catch up.
Seleroan
Hey folks!
Here's the standard plug for the Patreon. I know, I know. How tiresome. But I've got bills to pay, and starting out as a writer is not so easy.
But, hey. Extra content, right?
Or, if you just want to help out as a one-time thing, why not buy a mug?
https://the-quest-of-words-merch.printify.me/products
