Chapter 220 - The Witch of Twilight II

  “Can you let go of me already?”

  “Nuh uh, no way.”

  A tailless, child-sized Cire endured a number of unwanted pets as her face entertained a miffed pout. She was held captive atop the fox’s p, restrained in just one of her arms as they sat atop the bed. It was a loose embrace. There was more than enough space for her to wiggle around, but she couldn’t quite break free. The half elf was much too strong, and her arm did not so much as budge when Cire pushed against it. Of course, her struggling was pointless to begin with. At the lyrkress’ own request, Sylvia had constructed a massive bubble around them. The barrier was still as brightly lit as all the others, but according to the forest critter, none could see or move through it without her express permission.

  While Cire was allowed to do the former, poking at the barrier with her foot had proven that the tter authorization had not been granted. That was only to be expected, of course. She was the one who had promised the fairy an hour and a half of whatever she wanted, and Sylvia had every intention of seeing the full time through.

  While she was certainly a degenerate with an understanding of far too many sexual concepts, the fox was not a pervert like the party’s resident cat. The bnk check of demands had transted to a tame session of poking, prodding, petting, and snuggling—all the things that Cire normally did to the vixen in her quadrupedal form. But it was precisely that mirrored behaviour that was the source of the lyrkress’ grief.

  She had no issue with any of the close contact and touching in and of itself, but the pet treatment was a blow straight to her pride. The worst part of it all was when the fox made her shake. Truly, the most humiliating task she had ever been forced to endure.

  “How are you not bored of this yet?” She crossed her arms and pouted as the fox nuzzled a cheek against the back of her head. “It’s been twenty minutes at least.”

  “It’s ‘cause it’s totally different from hugging you when you’re big,” the fox gave her another headpat as she continued, “Plus, you’re all warm and squishy and stuff. I don’t think I’ll ever get bored of this.”

  “I don’t see how those things are reted.”

  “Well I do,” Sylvia wrapped both arms around the tinier halfbreed’s stomach and gave her a light squeeze. “And it’s not like you get bored of petting me either.”

  “I do,” said Cire, completely stone faced. “That’s why I always put you back on my head after a minute or two.”

  “Huh!?” The vixen’s hands froze.

  The longmoose could feel her friend’s jaw drop, and looking at the mirror confirmed the dispy of shock.

  “No way!” cried the fox. She waved her arms in protest, her eyes slightly teary. “There’s no way in heck you really get bored of petting me, right? I mean, look at how fluffy I am!” Her tail was brought forward and shoved into the smaller girl’s face. “Y-you have to be teasing me, right!?”

  Cire tilted her head, as if confused, holding her bnk expression for a solid few seconds before finally breaking into a giggle. “Silly fox. Of course I was.”

  “Oh whew…” Sylvia breathed a sigh and half colpsed atop the other girl’s body. “Geez, Cire. You’re so mean. That’s like me saying your ears aren’t good enough.”

  “My ears are more than good enough.” Cire fluttered the fuzzy appendages like wings as she grabbed the fox’s tail and moved it out of her face.

  “Mmmmnnnn… I dunno. I’ll have to be the judge of that,” said the dog, with a teasing grin. She raised her hands to the triangles attached to the lyrkress’ head, but the half-cervitaur’s floofy shapes darted out of the way before she could grab them. Sylvia refused to give up, trying again and again, but her touch was always avoided. “Cire! What the heck!”

  “What?”

  “Stop dodging.”

  “No.”

  “But you said I could do whatever I wanted!”

  “It’s not my fault.” The bluescale shrugged. “My ears don’t like being fondled. They’re running away on their own.”

  “That’s a btant lie and you know it! How are you even dodging!? I’m like four whole thresholds faster than you!”

  Cire pointed at the mirror. “Your eyes are giving it away.”

  “Ughhhhhh… Sometimes I hate how much of a freak you are. Normal people aren’t supposed to tell what other people are thinking by looking into their eyes!”

  “Normal nobles are.”

  “Yeah, right.” huffed Sylvia. She took a moment to stare at the massive gss pane before suddenly perking up again. “Oh, I know.” Grabbing Cire by the shoulders, she lifted her off her p and spun her around so they were face to face. “There! Now you can’t look at the mirror anymore.”

  “I don’t see how this is any better,” grumbled her p moose. “Now I can just look at you directly.”

  “Not if I do this!”

  The half-elf pulled the lyrkress’ face into her chest and fell back into the bed. She rolled around, almost strangling her pet as she bounced back and forth between the giant mattress’ far sides.

  “I can’t breathe,” compined Cire.

  “That’s okay! You don’t even need to breathe.” An astral projection spoke as the humanoid hat ughed and giggled.

  “Yes I do.”

  “Don’t be so silly! I’ve seen you stay underwater for like an entire day without suffocating.” Sylvia came to a stop as she spoke, her face pnted in a pillow and her pet smooshed between her body and the mattress. “You’d be dead if you needed to breathe.”

  “I told you st time. I can breathe water.”

  “That just means you don’t need to breathe at all!” huffed the vixen. “Okay, you know what? How about we give it a test? I’m gonna make it so you can’t breathe, and you tell me when you feel like you’re running out of air.”

  “Fine.”

  A small bubble appeared atop Cire’s face as she gave her consent, cutting her respiratory system off from the outside world.

  Sylvia stared at the mask for a few moments before breaking into an uncontrolble ughing fit.

  “What?”

  “Nothing!” The fox giggled again, only to be met by a headbutt to the chin. “Ow! What the heck!?”

  “Say it.”

  “It’s nothing! I just like being like this with you, I swear!” The fox put on her best smile, only for it to crumble when the smaller girl replied with a pinch to the inner thigh. “Owowowowow! Okay, okay! Fine! It’s ‘cause the bubble mask makes you look funny!”

  “Then fix it.”

  The compint was paired with another pinch.

  “Stop that already!” cried Sylvia. “Ughhh… why do you always have to be such a meanie? It’s not like it looking silly even really matters anyway. I’m the only one that’s ever gonna see it.”

  “I don’t like looking funny.” Cire made an attempt to sit up and check the mirror, but the fox’s arms kept her anchored to the bed.

  “Oh, come on. Just rex already,” said Sylvia. “It won’t really be a problem if you don’t think about it, and it’s gonna go away when you finally accept that you don’t need to breathe. Besides, it might be a bit funny, but you don’t look bad, I promise! Even if someone else sees you, they’ll still think you’re really pretty and stuff.”

  Cire paused for a moment before breathing a sigh and putting an end to her resistance. “Stupid fox.” She grumbled under her breath as she nearly extended her arms, pulling them back right before she returned the vixen’s embrace. The fairy’s humanoid form left her feeling somewhat conflicted. It still seemed strange, and almost unchaste, to wrap her arms around someone that wasn’t her mother, especially given that she was not in distress.

  Not missing the pse in the other girl’s behavior, her captor squealed and pulled her into her chest again, her tail wagging happily enough to kick up a small storm. Cire could feel a mild irritation swell within her chest, but allowed the fox to toy with her, staying almost perfectly still until the two-legged forest critter finally settled down.

  “Neither of us are anything like our mothers.”

  Cire made the statement after a brief moment of silence. Without any context to guide her, the lyrkress’ pet could only look on in confusion, her head tilted and her eyes blinking thrice.

  “Huh? Where’d that come from? And what are you even talking about?”

  “Our breasts. I’m talking about our breasts.”

  “H-huh!? Why are you suddenly thinking about my boobs!?”

  “Because you’re using them to strangle me.” The fox’s confused look was met with an irritated stare. “And I just remembered that your mother could put the side of a cliff to shame.”

  “Oh uhhhmmm, yeah, I guess she could.” Sylvia blinked a few times, before looking down at Cire. She was in a child-like form with a chest as ft as a board, but her regur one was only a little bit better. “Wait, does that mean your mom was a total bombshell?”

  The serpent met her companion with a less-than-happy gre.

  “W-what? I’m just being honest!”

  Cire continued to stare for a solid five seconds before raising a finger and slowly crafting an icy, serpentine sculpture. “All mias have rge breasts, but my mother’s were particurly exaggerated.”

  “Are you sure that’s supposed to be a good thing?” Sylvia tilted her head. “Because uhmm… based on your ice drawing thingy, hers are like way bigger than her head. That can’t be practical. Are you sure that’s right?”

  “It is,” said Cire. “The women in my father’s family are simir as well.”

  “Wait, that doesn’t make any sense then! How come you’re so ft? Did everything end up getting messed up ‘cause you’re a halfbreed?”

  “Maybe.” The half-mia shrugged. “I think the size went to my ears instead.” She lifted the not-wings overhead for reference. “They’re three times rger than everyone else’s.”

  “Mmmmnnn… maybe.” Sylvia slowly crept her hands up toward the giant triangles, but Cire moved them away before she could reach them.

  “Stop trying.”

  “I can’t! They look so warm and fluffy that I can’t resist.” Giving up on catching them normally, the fox moved her hands to the appendages’ immobile bases, but did not quite y her hands on her goals. She looked at Cire for affirmation instead, but was met with a cold, judging gre.

  “Pervert.”

  “You let me touch them all the time when I’m a fox!”

  “And what are you right now?”

  “Ughhh… now you’re just being difficult for no reason.” Sylvia puffed up her cheeks. “I’m still half fox! Look at my tail! And my ears!”

  The snake-moose sighed. “Fine. Then you can half touch them.”

  “Huh? What’s that even supposed to mean!?”

  “I don’t know. Figure it out yourself.” Though her tone was hostile, Cire rexed her ears, bringing them to their natural positions. Sylvia was cautious at first, only poking at the appendages without fully committing to touching them, but jumped in full force after confirming a ck of further resistance. She ran her fingers down their lengths, rubbing them with all the vigour of an obese, middle-aged man.

  “Okay. That’s enough.” Cire pressed her hands into the fox’s stomach and pushed her away. “No more.” She encased the triangur appendages in a thin yer of ice, leaving enough space for hearing, but not enough for touching.

  “Aww…” The fairy pouted, her ears and tail drooping.

  “I said half touch,” grumbled Cire. “Not full touch. Pervert. Idiot. Child molester.” She jabbed a finger into the tip of Sylvia’s nose with each compint, each attack slightly more violent than the st.

  “But you said I could do whatever I wanted!”

  “Because I was not expecting you to act like the cat.”

  “Oh, come on!” cried Sylvia. “If Lia was the one doing it, she’d probably drool all over them! I just want to py with them because they’re nice and soft and fuzzy!”

  “I’m aware.” Cire sighed. “That’s why I let you touch them in the first pce, idiot.” She flicked the fox on the forehead and sat up. “But here,” she motioned towards the shared seat. “It just feels inappropriate.”

  “Huh?” Sylvia blinked. Thrice. “Oh… oooooohhhh… uhmmm… oops. I didn’t mean it like that, I promise!”

  “I know.” Cire smiled, softly, as she opened up the sliding crystal door with a vector and walked out into the garden. “Now stop pouting and follow me.” The bubble stretched as she moved, growing just enough for her to reach the pnts.

  “Huh? Wait! Oh my gosh!” The fox tilted her head, only to wag up a storm and jump after her pet in the next moment. “Thanks Cire, you’re the best!” She toyed with the fuzzy handlebars as she spoke, scratching and prodding as she examined them in detail. “Why do centaurs think of ears like weird sex things anyway?”

  “Good question.” Cire paused briefly, the answer was deyed both by the need to think, as well as the need to stop herself from accidentally punching the person touching her ears. “I don’t know.” The lyrkress knew that head appendages were attractive, and she did often find herself judging based on their size, shape, and appearance, but she had never thought them anything to be enamoured by. “I think it’s a male thing.” Members of the rger sex often went crazy for floofers even half the size of hers.

  “Mmmmnnn… kinda like boobs then, I guess?” Sylvia tilted her head. “I guess maybe they needed something else to compare if basically all centaurs have giant boobs…”

  “Maybe.” Cire paused to bring a hand to her chin and touched the object supposedly restricting her air intake. “Are you sure this thing is working?”

  “Super sure.”

  The scalewarden frowned. “Then get it off my face.”

  The fairy’s lips were twisted into an ear-splitting grin. “Only if you say the magic words.”

  Cire met the unchanging smile with an exasperated roll of the eyes. “Fine. You were right. I don’t have to breathe.”

  “Good girl!” The orange-tailed maiden happily patted the moose on the head as she waved her tail to and fro. The rear limb leaked pixie dust as it moved, scattering it throughout their surroundings and melting the mask away. “There! All done.”

  “Stupid fo—” The former noble dy was still quite unhappy about being treated like a pet, but she was not given the chance to further reflect on the sentiment. A pair of hands dug into her sides right as she began to speak and tickled her straight to high heaven.

  ___

  “Okay. That’s enough.”

  Cire slipped out of the fox’s grasp and returned to her usual size when her ears caught wind of a pair of footsteps. The high heeled boots ccked as they marched down the hall, straight towards her room, each step louder than the st.

  “Awww… already?” pouted the fox. “It hasn’t even been all that long!”

  Cire gnced at the clock before rolling her eyes. “It’s been three hours. I promised you half that.”

  “Yeah, I know, but still…”

  A soft smile appeared on the moose’s lips as she grabbed the fairy by the cheeks and gave her a light tug. “It’s okay. It doesn’t have to be the st time.”

  “Wait, really?” Sylvia perked up, just in time for a flick to nd right between her eyes. “Ow!”

  “No.” Cire stuck out her tongue as she walked up to the mirror and examined her dress.

  “Wait, wait, wait! Caiiiiiire! You can’t just send mixed messages like that! I can’t tell if that was supposed to be a real no or not!”

  “It was and wasn’t.” Adjusting one st piece of embroidery, the noble dy returned to the garden and pinched the fox-person’s nose. “It depends on my mood.”

  “Wait, that means…” The dog leapt towards the pet, nearly tackling her to the ground with a glomp. “Thanks Cire! You’re the best!”

  “Of course I am,” said the snake. “Now calm down. Arciel’s coming.”

  “Uhhmmm, I’ll try, but Iunno if I can. I can already smell the super tasty food Melly’s mom’s making, and it’s making me really hungry.” She pressed one hand against her stomach whilst wiping the drool off her face with the other.

  Cire smiled. “It’s a shame we can’t go anywhere near Valencia. Amereth, the manor’s chef, can put anything you’ve ever eaten to shame. Not even Pollux’s chefs come close to matching her skill.” She closed her eyes for a moment to picture the infinite expanse of blue that was the shark dy’s origin. “Though, the Ryllian is said to have the best cooks in the world. We should be able to find someone even better if we venture into the sea.”

  “Oh! That sounds like a great idea. I can even make Lia a special bubble that’ll let her eat and stuff so she won’t have to miss out.”

  “Maybe after we finish our business in Vel’khan.” Cire scratched her pet’s ears as she considered the possibility. Her father’s influence was clearly spreading, but she was confident that she would be able to escape it by heading out into the open ocean. If even that failed, then she would only need to seek another continent. Having paid little attention in geography css, she knew very little of the specifics, but she remembered hearing rumours and songs of the kingdoms that y far beyond her homend’s bounds. There was the Blintlereach, a nd inhabited by golems of gss; Kharstin, a utopia crafted exclusively for goblinkind; and even the rumoured Narzarchst, nd of the wishing woods where the holiest of relics y dormant.

  All were supposedly verified by explorers, but those that frequently traveled between the continents were few and far between. Pria, the continent that Cire lived on, was not yet fully charted, and it was in those efforts that most pathfinders sought their adventures. There was little reason, even for an explorer possessed, to devote her interests to the charting of a distant nd.

  The danger was just as present as the sheer space between Pria and Vaughn, the nearest known continent. For those that could fly, the trip was long and exhausting even without accounting for the great thundering veil, a dead sea where the storms would never once relent. The wingless were even less fortunate, for they would have to make the same trip on boat. Because of the risks presented, the few that could easily succeed in crossing the veil were individuals that could dive deep beneath the waves, many of whom were unable to get up on dry nd and explore the world’s furthest corners.

  “It might not be the worst idea after all.” Cire continued to ponder the possibilities until a knock broke her chain of thought. She checked herself in front of the mirror one more time before flicking her tail and opening the door with a vector.

  “Good morning, Cire. I require a moment of your time,” Arciel stepped through it, a soft smile on her ever arrogant face.

  “Of course you do.” The lyrkress yoinked the vampire into the room and magically closed the door behind her. “What is it this time?”

  “Griselda has provided several destinations so that we may quickly increase our levels before it comes time to confront the whore upon the throne.”

  Cire nodded. Vel’khan, like every other nd, was home to a number of dungeons, but not all of them were appropriate for their level range, nor were all of them compatible with their abilities. Asking around was likely to produce one answer or another, but not all dungeons were known; new god-sent trials were discovered each year, some by accident, and others by revetion. If they were particurly lucky, the moon goddess’ guidance would point them towards one such hidden trove.

  “What else?” asked the lyrkress. She continued when the squid blinked, confused. “You’re too excited for that to be all.”

  “I was not aware that I had let it show,” A faint red on her cheeks, Arciel covered her lips with a hand. “To answer the question you have posed, the great moon goddess has informed me that she wishes for an opportunity to speak to you in person at your convenience, and that I should ensure you are provided the ideal circumstances for clear communication.”

  “What business does she have with me?” asked the moose. She found it somewhat strange that the goddess did not contact her directly or whisk her consciousness away without any prior warning, but she appreciated the gesture. The goddess of sentient rocks clearly demonstrated that she held a respect for the mortal’s time and will.

  “That, I cannot say,” said Arciel. “I was not given the specifics, only instructions to prepare you for a lengthy discussion.”

  “Fine.” The lyrkress walked in front of the mirror and transformed her casual dress into her usual armour. “Sylvia, can you warp us outside? I’ll fly us over to Vel’khagan. We can probably get there and back by nightfall.”

  “Okay!”

  Arciel frowned. “I am afraid that I cannot show my face in the capital’s temples. I would be recognized immediately by its priests, most of whom presume me to be dead.”

  “Wait, wait, wait, slow down!” cried the fox. “They think you’re dead!? What the heck!?”

  “It is a fault of the life-sucking whore,” said Arciel, with a frown. “She burned down my mother’s vacation home in the midst of a family gathering. And as I am certain you have come to understand, changes in temperature serve as a critical weakness that my species has great difficulty resisting.”

  “Oh yeah! You start turning red and stuff when it gets too hot.”

  “Precisely,” said the squid. “I was fortunate enough to escape, but many did not share in my serendipity. The few that did, she attacked. I know some of their tales, but can only assume the fates of the others.” The tale was reyed with a disgusted frown. She opened her mouth and poised to continue, until Cire jabbed a tail into her cheek.

  “We’re getting off topic,” said the moderately annoyed lyrkress. “Where do you want to go instead?”

  “Could you truly not wait until I was finished with reying my past?” The squid pursed her lips, only to receive another prod.

  “No. This is a waste of time with the cat still asleep,” said Cire. “If you’re going to open up, do it ter. I don’t want to hear the same story twice.”

  Blinking, Arciel looked between the miffed aristocrat and the cackling fox before heaving a sigh. “I suppose etiquette must differ greatly in Cadria.”

  “It doesn’t. Now get to the point.”

  “I suppose I shall if I must.” The squid breathed a sigh and adjusted her hat. “It just so happens that we are near one of the sites where my kin were sughtered. The holy temple was desecrated with blood, but I believe it shall serve our purposes so long as we cleanse it of its impurities.”

  “Ooooo, a desecrated temple? That sounds fun!” said Sylvia. “If we’re lucky we might even run into zombies and stuff.”

  Arciel pulled a fan out of thin air and pressed it to her lips. “I am well aware that Cire was doing it intentionally… but with you, I cannot be sure.”

  “Huh? Doing what?”

  “Stupid fox.” Cire flicked the hungry hungry not-hippo. “Who would the corpses belong to?”

  “Oh… oooohhhh… oops. Sorry.” She stuck out her tongue and scratched the back of her head.

  The disguised tentacle monster giggled as she leaned back into her chair. “Are you certain,” she turned her eyes on Cire, “that I cannot have her?”

  “No. Mine,” The mia grabbed the foxgirl’s giant, fluffy tail and hugged it. “When are we leaving?”

  “As soon as Natalya awakens,” said Arciel.

  “Waiting for her would mean waiting all day,” said Cire, with a roll of the eyes. “I don’t think she got out of bed yesterday. And the few waking moments she had, she spent on cleaning.”

  It was not a matter of exhaustion that drove the catgirl’s lethargy, but rather her zy feline nature. Lia had gone back to sleep each time she awakened. When confronted about her indolence, she cimed that napping was natural behaviour for members of her species, and that the sun was at fault. Even within the dungeon’s confines, Rikael’s light was apparently warmer while they were so high up. The heat-sensitive Arciel agreed, but Cire was convinced that it was a false cim. Augustus Manor had always been a few degrees colder than the city id out beneath it.

  “Truly?” Arciel raised a brow.

  “Mhm!” Sylvia nodded. “She slept even more than me, and I conked out every time I got bored or tired.”

  “We can wake her up,” said Cire. “Is the bird coming?”

  “I do not think she will be. She mentioned that she would like a day to go over her notes and deliberate her decisions.”

  “Oh, that reminds me!” Sylvia shot to her feet. “I need to talk to Melly about something really important!”

  “Something important?” The lyrkress cocked her head.

  “Yeah! You remember how you were going around murdering all her people and stuff because you wanted experience?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Uh huh, so anyway, I thought it might be a good idea to collect their souls and stuff, so I ended up keeping them around, but Iunno what to do with them.” Sylvia transformed back into a fox before reaching into her tail and retrieving a handful of dull, green-white lights. “I think she might stop being mad at us if I give them back.”

  While the bird was certainly cooperating on account of being convinced that she could not defeat the marquis, it was not with pleasure that she discussed her terms. Arciel and Natalya, she was at least personable around, but she often gred at Cire and Sylvia. It was not wholly unexpected; one had eaten hundreds of her people, and the other had taken her brother as a hostage.

  “Iunno how long it’ll take, so you guys go on ahead,” said Sylvia. “I’ll grab Lia and catch up when I’m done.” She cpped her paws and quickly spun up a portal before bounding off in the opposite direction. There was a wall in her path, but she phased right through it and headed into the next room. The confused questions that followed her did not make it as far. They were either chased off by her enthusiasm or summarily ignored.

  Cire’s ears happened to pick up a series of rather interesting shouts, but chose to ignore them in favour of picking up her lizard and strapping him to her back.

  “Which way is it?” asked Cire.

  “It lies at the bottom of the ocean,” said Arciel. “I am unable to give precise instructions without heading into the water, but I believe it should be to the southwest.”

  “Okay. Let’s go.”

  “Indeed, we would best refrain from stalling any longer,” said the squid, with a smile. “My goddess awaits.”