Take Up the Cross – Chapter 126: A Joyous Interlude

Though little more than a realm of radiance and phantasms which flare into view before exiting a mirror’s influence, sounds do carry through the space inhabited by two who wish to escape from danger, and possibly each other.

“His true tales, so bold and fantastical, and he a true hero that lets no pettiness besmirch his quests, but… but that fake Rouvenor was…!”

“… was dangerous?”

“More like… clingy!? At every chance, he’d tempt me with sweets!? Tell me to mind sharp corners?”

Before a gate which bears no destination plaque and apparently opens only to magical command, a very exuberant snake elf coils loosely around a less enthusiastic boy.

One hand of hers holds his tightly, while the other cradles a strange orb with tubes plumbing through it.

(All that’s left.)

Two great holes can be found on opposite points of each other, though a greater rift in the shell-like sculpted contraption indicates where this “egg” cracked after bubbling.

The heat of a boiler expanded it to the point of rupturing, miraculously escaping out the back of the fake being, and hidden father, called “Rouvenor”.

“What hero chides a heroine like she’s an unlearned child…? Ave had enough of that underground!”

(Gray ash, so dead that it wouldn’t re-liquefy, blew away with what was left of its spirit “wind”.)

Adris can’t help but pat his behind, though. It should be just another idle threat it left with; but, Ave’s winds always carry repercussions he can’t escape.

“He knew the adventures, but quoted different details sometimes? Rougher, more inelegant! When I wanted to, well, frolic, he pooh-poohed the idea of sharing japes like we elves should!? What sort of hero wants to… t-t-talk about lewd things like ‘firsts’!?” Ave scowls, her tone shrill as if her dreams have been crushed. “Just chatting about him turned back on me, and it was like my ideas were disappointing!? But it’s okay to talk about Adris!?”

(… It’s disappointing that he’s taken interest in me!)

“Honestly… something about him…?” Closer she pulls Adris, bumping against his shoulder and squeaking at the contact. “Ahem… he was so… annoyingly familiar, though?”

(All parents probably are when you’re out living your own life…?)

And this entity is one that causes Adris’ throat to tighten when comparing the feel of Ave’s hand to its own.

“Hmm!?”

When he stares for too long, wondering what similarities they might share if he’d seen the real “Rouvenor”, Ave blanches at his inspection.

Adris’ hand grips tighter to keep her close, leading to a few twitches as his charge twists around to check for dangers.

(That… that butt grabber has got me furious, for no reason! This whole place, ever since I came here…)

His hand comes up to loosen his recovered neck tie, for the heat of his own proximity to Ave won’t relent.

“… Go on. Why were there vines ensnaring the gates?”

“I finally had a good idea~! Trapped here by evil? I’ll turn it back on them!” Ave lets go to pump her fist, before grabbing him again and scurrying around for a moment. “[Huna linque] (CURSE GRASS) grows in Rouvenor’s Mythal forest called Greenhate all over, so why not use that which devours civilization to crack these gates!?”

Ave points at the gate they wait before, closed and prepared for the mystic Hoime to chance upon it in her sequence.

With Rouvenor’s passing, no vines remain, only the damages inflicted.

“Bringing the war to the enemy via sabotage is a wise choice, Ave.”

“Yes! I had to reach them… you…”

Huffing again, Ave squeezes so hard that his wrist pops.

(Too… close!)

“But…! But, to destroy the dimensional anchors of the manse…”

“Imagine it: the frame of this hideous structure, collapsing all around that dandy old man and drowning him in goo!”

(Consider everyone else.)

“… what fate would befall those trapped still within it too?”

“That’s easy, they would…!

They… they would…”

Ave strictly closes her mouth, making it a flat line. The color to her cheeks that returned with bold emotions pales to white, and she refuses to meet his gaze with her once expectant eyes.

“… Falke is evil! Anyone that likes Neesiette has to be, right!? Something… anything had to be done!” A tear in the corner of an eye is joined by more, for Ave squeaks the rest. “Even if I overlooked the safety risks… this was… at least… a clever plan?”

Adris’ hand is fast to stroke her cheek, shocking her before she calms. No tears fall.

“An elf-sounding plot it still is, so I approve, for nobody could prepare for it. Just, a little too incautious, so wind’s fortunes rightly prevented it.”

“… Yes! Sorry, when I got lost while snooping, I started feeling a little… unsettled, anxious…! Hahaa, I bet this is actually some trap!? Neesiette isn’t the only one that can smell it, the wild card we keep in case of Kol going… well, wild! So, Ave was kidnapped because she had a smart idea…!” Ave shifts her hips arrogantly, a maddened smile coming back to her at the thought of being abducted for finally being useful. “[Slayer’s Friend] is a smelly beacon to me, too, and what better way to fight than to liberate our fair weapons!?” Finished bragging, Ave taps her fingers together, eying the environment with its pulsating colors. “But… but the trail led to a gate, and then that gate led here, which is terrifyingly bright and leads in circles…!?

Adris, when are we leaving?”

(Whenever your luck or that idiot bunny scores big first!)

“Yet, the trail continued after the gate…?” This essential detail mentioned earlier in Ave’s ramblings needs confirmation, for this Frenetic Realm is a place Adris would’ve never considered…

“YES! It’s all around!? Fresh and strong, wherever mine and the others’ things are, they’ve got to be here! Every gate I checked, as fast as I could slithering through and dropping a seed, with so many shiny birds chasing but I still couldn’t find our stuff…”

(All except one gate checked.)

Adris looks toward the fake Traveler which nearly touches the orange great tree in the central garden.

Though no other moons exist in this realm, the false violet orb mimicking Neesiette’s home lies within reach of a gate nestled into the tree’s top limb.

(I see. I see…)

“The wine was so sweet and Orloss so kind, I didn’t notice until it was too late… I felt really weak, as well, so some of this day is a blur?”

“But you chose black.”

“… Ah? Mmm, at some point…” Running her hand down her fish-tail dress, Ave blushes at the slit running up the middle. “I thought about Adris a lot… and it just shimmered…? Then, I went looking for help for my idea first, but Kol was gone, Still nowhere to be found, Neesiette is… and… and…!”

Ave suddenly pulls her hand free, clutching it to her breasts. Though overly affectionate before, a new thought causes her to cower in front of Adris.

“… And?”

“… That… that… beautiful… scary lady, the one with the curved sword, Ave thought she might be down every hall and behind every door… so Ave took Rouvenor along.”

(Serras has that effect on everyone, especially me.)

“… The way she glanced at me going by…? It was really… really the scariest thing, even worse than Kol or a picture of any villain Rouvenor fought…!

Hmm!?”

Adris cannot force himself to speak about Serras, only to let his hand wander to Ave’s neck to stroke under her chin.

The sight of her shaking in fear produces an effect that he can’t explain, causing his butt to clench and stomach to churn.

“That was a ghost, nothing more. A fake thing invented by Falke to fool me. It can’t harm you any longer.”

“… ‘It’ can’t, huh…?”

For the first time in Adris’ memory of associating with Ave, the girl seems to grimace with doubt directed at him.

“Never thought… someone so hateful like that would know Adris… But, we’re safe now!” A thin smile does little to hide the flash of worry she swiftly moves on from. “If we deserved to know about her, you’d have told us already, so Adris dealing with someone that strong alone is just… normal, right? Haha…”

(Sh-Shit, that’s the sort of thing that I…)

Despondency in that claim leads to silence after.

Ave moves in a coiled circle, unsure of what else to do but shuffle about when Adris doesn’t take over the discussion like she seems to anticipate.

Until he grips his fist and whispers.

“No, not safe.”

“Not safe!? Is she… gonna come—!?”

Adris’ finger to her lips stops her from melting down at Serras’ threat, just long enough for him to gather his thoughts.

“… There are things that are easy to discuss? Things that aren’t easy, as well, right Ave?”

“How is that…? Well… well, yes… that’s certainly true.”

After an inoffensive reply, Ave stays passively quiet, searching Adris for understanding.

“‘What we don’t know about each other’, would you consider these unsaid things to be a danger, Ave?”

“… You mean… secrets we don’t share…?”

Though pawing at him before, Ave instead slides away with overwhelming fear gripping her.

Her fear… prompts Adris to want to follow. At that realization, he locks his legs and grinds his teeth.

(This place is loathsome. Every feeling that runs through my mind is magnified tenfold!)

A rush to dominate had sent him flying like an arrow through the halls.

The horror of receiving the wrong greeting, of being hunted in turn, had nearly made him soil himself.

(Every touch upon her…)

For Adris’ keen mind, this is only a narcotic dulling of his natural inhibitions.

“What does Adris know!?” In her private tongue, Ave hisses a scared question to nobody.

(She stays quiet because she has a past that’s too embarrassing and complicated to deal with.)

“… Ave, have you intentionally passed up on sharing words with me?”

“Huh!? No!” At Adris’ interest being different, Ave relaxes and returns to his side. “Why would you think that?”

“I learned from Kol that Neesiette issued a… peculiar order to—”

“Oh!? Miss Perfect’s order back on the evening we got to Welcome Web, is that it? Hah, I’d forgotten about it!” Ave flits her hand, waving it at Adris while giggling. “I just ignore what that annoying doll says to do! Why would Adris want to be left alone~? There’s no way you’d be shocked by Zennia, right, since you’ve seen way more fantastic stuff before arriving here!?”

(This naive girl was never hiding things from me? Ah, the way she went after me every day and night…?)

“Mmm, but, Adris doesn’t care for… useless chats…”

Ave was the one always inviting him to tea and treats, as well as drowning him with questions about Xin and his life.

Always openly flaunting her interests and bodily curves, she tries to hide her body now.

(I see… I gave so little of myself in return.)

“… True, about Neesiette, listen to your heart and not her. But, if her order is one you ignore…”

“Haah!?”

The moment he stretches his hand toward Ave with a twitch of squeezing muscles, the elf maiden flinches away from it like a ducking martial aura user would.

(She’s still terrified of me.)

“… Why do you avoid confronting that which haunts you about me, Ave?”

“‘Haunts’!? No, Ave isn’t… um…”

To the gate is where Adris backs her to, leaving Ave shivering.

“We both know what happened during that struggle.”

This is a total lie.

But, Kol’s admiration for him and others’ fears line up with Hoime’s broken soul. Ave’s skittishness has no other origin.

“I… Ave didn’t… can’t say anything bad about… what others do, or act like…” When he pulls her hand to his chest, she stares like a trapped rat.

“Do you not have necessary questions of me after seeing something so intimidating as ‘that’?”

Leaving “that” as nebulous as possible opens up all avenues for Ave’s mind to connect motivations to.

A wonderful linguistic tool in Adris’ arsenal, misleading others through open questions also allows them room to avoid choking on their response.

(If she can calm down, then I can—!)

“… It’s fine… everything is okay now.”

Almost in a rush to respond, Ave instead says this after contemplating. Her fake smile, the one that hides discomfort and insufficiency, accompanies her hunching her shoulders.

“You’re fixing everything, so Ave… I’ll help you… if I even can? This labyrinth isn’t anything difficult for Adris, just like defeating horrible evil last night~? That’s usual…

Right, Ave didn’t need to do anything on her own, because Ave isn’t Kol or the black-haired woman. They could probably do it better…”

Though annoyingly hectic moments ago, Ave had a glow of pride to her work. Now that Adris shows up and “rescues” her, she gravitates toward his back while also being scared of it.

(She’s regressing!?)

What inner turmoil Adris can interpret with his “sight” doesn’t force their relationship into a “rubicon”.

Only a muted sadness clings to her that will no doubt be submerged by the next chaotic encounter.

(Authentic Fiction prompted alterations with Kol and Lycia? Why pass by Ave?)

“… I hope it opens soon.”

Idle talk from Ave fills the uncomfortable silence that Adris shifts his legs in.

(If she won’t make a change happen…)

Adris straightens his back and invades her personal space once again. The rainbow sheen that surrounds both drives his body heat higher with his commitment.

(She must change!)

“So, this is what our ‘friendship’ amounts to?”

“… Huh!?”

Ave squeaks at the growl he uses, growing wide-eyed to take in Adris turning his back on her.

“First, you denied that night in the bath when my passion was clear.”

“How!? Ave isn’t denying it, what we, did in, how did Ave…!?”

“By refusing to believe in my affections, disregarding how I value holding you!”

His raised voice roots the dancing snake elf in place, leaving her gasping.

“And, second…”

Adris leers over his shoulder to catch Ave jolting the moment his eyes catch her. The hand she was extending whips back as if struck.

(Rather than regressing, fall further into my clutches! Become a useful weapon against all enemies, even ones that like you!)

He’d rather not manipulate Ave to crush her independence, but the necessity for her to safeguard him from both her “luck” and this new elven evil…

“… you look at me with trepidation and terror, abandoning trust in me by believing I’d intentionally cause you harm.”

“No!? WHAT!? That’s not!? Ave doesn’t think you’d do something bad… to me…”

“Lastly, you wound me by being unwilling to ask the questions that should be asked, as if there’s no…” The strong-backed boy looks away from her, sagging visibly as if despair sucks at him.

(Be twisted a bit by pain, and fall for me because your guilt hurts too much!)

“… relationship between us demanding us to understand each other.”

“I… I… Ave… not trying to… hurt you…”

Pain makes her sweet voice croak instead, struggling to follow his denunciations of her.

“S-Sorry…

Ave is sorry!”

An instantaneous apology.

Adris doesn’t even need to turn around to know she’s repeatedly bowing toward him.

“Sorry! Sorry! I’m sorry!

So sorry!”

Where each apology comes from changes height of sound, until her tone becomes sickly sweet and naively inviting.

“Ave… I… wanted to talk, but…

Ahhh, it’s Ave’s fault, sorry, Adris!

Do you want to talk? We can talk, Ave will listen…!” Ave’s coils slither, bringing the sylvan caller within reach of him.

“So…

Please…

Forgive me…?”

Without comprehending the real issue, Ave collapses into acquiescence.

Ready to agree to anything so long as Adris will turn back to look at her.

(This isn’t causing the same distortion of my life and yours…)

Though tension exists thickly enough to cut, Ave’s surrender doesn’t prompt what he needs.

There’s no spark of something new.

(Everyone has… always forgiven you, maybe? Or, nobody has ever needed to forgive you that wasn’t already a kind person or surrendered to your “luck”…)

If she’s allowed to escape with just an apology, she will never alter her behavior.

(And our relationship will end up as warped as Falke’s own!)

Adris swings to face her, crossing his arms and revealing a pitiless expression.

“No.”

“… Sor———aah…?

Aaaaahkke…!?”

Though she keeps her fake smile, it seems to freeze along with her entire shivering body when Ave loudly wheezes.

Tears withheld sparkle with pain contained in each drop.

“I don’t forgive those who betray friendships with me simply because… they beg!”

Adris spits this out, right before the first gust of air collides with him from behind.

(Nngh?)

His clothes whip up with this current that reeks of Ave’s divine presence infused in it.

“… aaah…?

… huuuuh…”

Ave’s trembling returns with shock abating, and to meet the wind whipping her ponytail there is a spray of darkness that cracks free of her body.

“Friendship? How can I believe in something you don’t, Avenalliah?”

The hurtful words wind around her, ensnaring her with the chaotic feelings Adris has hoped to resonate with inside her heart.

— RUBICON —

— TRIBULATION —

These dark words write themselves upon her fair skin by absorbing the caliginous aura she sheds.

Adris’ Inner Expanse resonates in turn with their birth, comprehending the torrent of power both are now stuck within after sharing hateful words.

(I forced my own Talent to adapt to what I desire! Now, something must change…)

“You… won’t even look at me as a friend, too scared to touch me…”

Reduced to a quaking mess, Ave’s state is sufficient for Adris to turn from her again and prompt the next emotional tumult.

“… ugah…? A-Adris…”

(When she’s had time to… crumble a bit, I’ll be happy to wedge my way back into her thoughts.)

Adris’ left hand is hard to keep steady, though, part of the reason he had to turn from Ave. His other hand keeps it from shaking.

This trembling feeling in his body matches her own discomfort, urging him to rush to her side.

(… I’m… I can’t let her get to me. The more I give in to what Still said makes others help her, the more I will willingly surrender.)

Always quick with a lie or manipulation at any other point in his life, as of now Adris isn’t forming any impressive lines for actually repairing their rift.

(It’s fine… she likes me… way too much, so it should be—)

“No… NO!

SHAAAA!”

Just like before, an emerald tree trunk bends to encase him.

(TailTAILTAILLLLL!!!)

“GUUUUH!?

A-AVE…!”

“Not afraid, hick!”

He’s rolled up swiftly, then has his head mashed into Ave’s breasts. Salty tears drip onto his head, and her strong arms touch all over his exposed parts.

“Touch! All over! See!? Not… not afraid! Ave is…!”

“Calm… calm…!”

“Ave doesn’t… know how to be a friend!? Orloss said so! Ave is bad at everything, so why not this, too!? Uuuuh!”

(She… she is…!?)

The painful miasma that Adris felt Ave exuding wraps around him just as she does.

But where it stifles his words, hers flow like an undammed river.

“… the wind from here called me, so I came, I didn’t have anywhere else but the world tree and the song!? Ave wants to believe, but… but, everyone always does weird things to Ave, or is never really nice past acting nice…? And… and… zha won pershon who doesh…! Ave wohn be skared…!”

Feeling the need to prove how unfrightened she is, Ave fluffs up Adris’ hair while swallowing hard to clear her throat of phlegm.

When she moves her tail to make it easier to pat him, Adris can finally see the result of his manipulations.

(Weeping… like a kid…)

“I never had… friends before… waah! Petshripolish… sho, sho… hnngh, how can…

How do I know what to do…!?”

(None? Never… before us? You were serious?)

“… Adrish…

… Sometimes… Ave thinks that… you’re a little… scary…”

(You actually admit it?)

“But you’re also strong! And… take care of us… and… everything you do, you never don’t keep us safe…

And… Ave likes talking about many things with you. Nothing is scarier to Ave than… waking when the sun rises and finding you not… hick…”

(Huh? I didn’t think she could be this honest.)

“Ave wants to know, all about last night… about her… and, wanting to hear about Adris… everything…

So please… pleashe… leht Ave try! This time, I’ll keep trying!”

If Adris could respond other than to kick his legs, he’d warn her that his air is going to run out before she finishes her pleas. Instead, he can only try to pull his face away from hers when she closes to stare into it.

“I’ll… try better, to be a friend you trust and talk to you even when you’re… scary, no matter how scary, so… can we…”

Almost mesmerizing with their gleam, Ave’s crystal green eyes are the one elvish color Adris can’t say he hates.

“Can we try again?”

Stained by more than snot and tears, this is the face of a girl currently more earnest than even Kol, because the kobold can’t feel fear that must be overcome.

“This time… I’ll give everything… to it?”

([Rubicons] and [Tribulations] aren’t things solely meant for me to overcome?)

The tingle between them is almost like the resolution of something. Adris intended to coax her back, but Ave leapt to action first.

With his words, the right ones, everything will change.

(… I thought maybe… I’d make her dependent on me… to save me from…)

But that tactic won’t work now, and would completely ruin what he feels when looking at this beautiful whelp called his “wind”.

When she offers to understand him, he comes upon the perfect lure to cap off this tearful standoff.

(The fear wasn’t too deep with Ave, she rode over it so quickly? Haaah, that’s… a relief.)

Despite being the most enamored with his mysteriousness, Ave keeps the adoration of “Adris” necessary for him to sneak further into her heart.

(If that’s the case, then there’s a way to lower my “impressiveness” while instead sharing my “weakness”…)

“… On Xin, hidden places were often sources of death and terror.”

“Hm, hmmmm!?”

His almost silent response ignores the answer she wants, launching instead his counterattack.

“The wind of Zennia is so different. Where it blows, I seem to follow, and it always aims me toward the mysterious forests that you love. Of elves and their hidden places…”

(Being scared of her tricky authority isn’t cowardly.)

A slow, wistful admission of his own “inadequacies” is just the right cure.

“… I admit that… I find entering the forest to be disconcerting. For everything you’ve shared with me brings to mind dreams of powerful rivals who would seek to harm—”

“I’d never let any true kin or spirit harm you!”

She screams this so loud that his ears ring after. Ave’s hands run to his neck, sliding up to his cheeks with confusion on her face.

“How can… you fear us?”

“… Elves are children of light and wind, right? Neither have been favorable to me.”

(Any wind was a harbinger of death, proof of an oncoming black storm. And the torch-like sun was not something you faced toward willingly for long.)

The degree of danger is irrelevant.

So long as Adris stokes Ave’s desire to protect him…

“Yet… I can’t help but be drawn to your homelands. Something… powerful and ancient calls me… just like you did. It tells me to take you ‘home’, to a place that haunts my dreams.”

“Wants to rule in dark, like the Night Court? Runs with shadows clinging to him, but seeks the fairy light of forest deep? Feels fear, but cannot help but be drawn to the true kin he feels forbidden from…? Could it be!?”

Wide-eyed again, Ave speaks in her private tongue while flicking her real one over Adris’ skin once.

(Is she misunderstanding something useful, again?)

“… I also have been so consumed by thoughts of crystal-clear lakes and trees as tall as mountains which bear fruits of infinite flavors.”

“Oh? My stories… consumed you?

HIEE!?”

A hand slides along her ribs, pulling on her back.

Summoning all of his allure, he whispers for her to hear.

“Yes, plagued by these temptations. When everything elvish that I have yet to discover is revealed… naked before me, bereft of mists to cover them…”

“Hngaaah!?”

A flick along her pointed ear tip leaves Ave’s coils loosening.

“When I taste all of those hidden sights…”

“… Taste…?”

“… and when we experience what I lay awake in bed beside you, too, dreaming of… Those unfelt experiences we can discover with each other, awaiting us only there…”

“… Ave wants that, too…

Ahhhh.”

She claps her hands, a star-struck expression when she relents to release his body from her clutches.

“… My Adris wasn’t disappointed… he was only waiting, savoring the anticipation… to discover with Ave per-perfect unions…?

Haah, how deliriously… naughty! All of our ‘firsts’ to be found in a fairyland, just as special as in the grove!?”

With her heart uplifted, Ave starts shaking from joy rather than sadness. She descends into bubbly giggling after.

The dark words written upon her fade with each happy thought.

“All of this… you… you’ll forgive me if I…?”

“It’s impossible to say you don’t believe in me if you were to show me so much of… yourself and your people.”

“Mmhmmm! That’s… that’s a great penance!”

(Was that enough? She finished her own Tribulation? I… is our relationship different with—UGH!?)

“It all makes sense now! Rouvenor… I can live a story worthy of your own!!”

“KRAWWW! [THERE THEY ARE!]”

(Oh, shit.)

Down the missing hallway they formed from dancing lights in passing, four shining birds dressed in thick armor and wielding flashing weapons swoop into view.

All aim for Adris, now imprisoned within a singing Ave’s arms.

“Ave understands what Adris is! This is to be our tale, one of friends growing closer together!”

“Ave! That tale is going to end if we don’t get out!”

Ave sways, turns with Adris held to her, just in time for a javelin to miss her head and lodge in the solid gateway door.

“‘Return of the banished feylord!’

Ahohoho, I understand more about him than that midget, now! This must be what Ave was prophesied, each time she gazed at the painted world tree on the wall deep in—!”

“Ave! Get us out of—!”

The gateway behind them sparks with green light, then elder flames shoot out the frame’s sides.

A crisp wind that reeks of sentient intent flows past the two delvers from nowhere and fills the space where angry mirror birds must pass through with these evil flames.

(That means…!)

The doors wrench open! Behind is a tornadic vortex that unveils the Zennia they both left.

Across this scintillating threshold kneels a madly laughing woman with emerald lightning arcing between her ramrod-straight rabbit ears.

All around her jolting, smoking form, the gray walls and floors are stained black and warped like scooped butter.

“AHAHAHAHA, PLEASE BE THE REAL ONE THIS TIME, OH PLEASE!”

(Totally insane, but she did it!)

“Ave will prove she’s worthy to be a heroine fin—!”

These are her last thoughts before Ave’s body erupts into green fire. Adris summons all his strength to fling her through, watching the long tail poof into thick sparks while he regains his footing.

“[YOU OWE ME THREE HATCHLINGS FOR…!]”

A familiar Malphas crashes through the flames, angling for him with dual swords slashing.

(That one was female!?)

But the gateway lurches shut in the bird’s face the moment Adris bursts into fire like before.

“Stay… at the periphery.”

“Mmm.”

Hand still in hand, two tired accomplices slowly enter a grand central garden. Now that Ave’s hair and dress have been smoothed over, “she can finally enter danger to safeguard his quest…”

(… or so she said.)

The entry phrase for Falke’s gateways was given up by Kachua, Sapphira’s granddaughter, because of Fehl’s ignorant conversations, which makes it easy to enter a stronghold that Hoime had trouble penetrating.

Pillars that were plucked to be loosed as missiles have been replaced.

All damages of the night’s battle, reformed into Falke’s “perfect” state.

The great, squat tree that dominates the sky sways with the wind that is allowed now through the barrier separating the manse from Zennia.

It would be fine if Adris could enjoy picking out finer details since he’s freed of fighting for his life, but every time Ave comes into sight, he finds his gaze averting only a bit slower than her quick head whips.

“As I said, there’s no one here. This is Falke’s private area, the maids don’t come here. Fehr removed my clothing’s ‘tells’ that alert others to me and I naturally blend in with… dark places.”

(I have zero presence, unlike this witless elf that feels like the sun has crashed near me.)

“… But… there could be worse things… like more birds…”

“Still is nearby. I sense our connection.”

(If it isn’t her at the center of this, then we’re doomed.)

Dark vapors swirl between the pillars, rising from the ground and wafting out from the walls to swell into larger currents. Adris’ hairs stand on end in the presence of a larger emotional concentration than what assaulted him through his link to Fehr.

It gathers at the base of the tree. Exposed roots suck up what pools there as mist. Veins of a bluish-green sludge likewise answer this mist by seeping out into the garden floor from the tree.

(The poison that Fehr was livid about is born at the heart of Falke’s territory, and he never bothers to notice?)

“Her sorcery is what I need to accomplish my next goal.”

“… But… I still want to apologize for…”

“You’ve made promises to apologize correctly in the future…”

“Ave is really gonna do everything she claimed she would!?”

(Don’t give up so easily!)

“… and it was that place that made you act so… forwardly, but your heart is always kind.”

“Sorry! Personal space is important, though…”

Again she bows, growing hotter at the memory of clinging and coiling around him.

“It drove us to excess, like the sage said it could. It’s not—”

“No! Ave was… really, too… bold, and… it was hard to think, and…

I did, and said, a lot of… strange things…”

(“Feylord” is bothering you?)

Ave rubs her palms together, craning over with a total lethargy claiming her. Beet-red with shame, her earlier enthusiasm for leading Adris upon a new adventure has spiraled into this sorry state.

Recognizing him as this (PEERLESS ANCIENT FEY) she named him sent her into hysterics until after she crossed over to Hoime.

(Frenetic… was also draining. She sobered up with a look of having killed a puppy.)

What transpired also saw Adris taking risks that weren’t required.

(I had way too much… fun, acting like an idiot. That place made me hunt for Ave, desperate to “make her mine”.)

Emotional needs that broke free of his heart were amplified by the corruption that lodged within him from Fehr’s dream.

Power, dominance, conquest…

All that called for him to see Ave fall in the same way Falke once did, to grovel in supplication.

Only after experiencing the same circumstances did they fade forever.

(Darkness affected Lycia’s mind, why should I be any different? Authentic Fiction can just as easily compel me if I allow it to shape my desires…)

Ave’s “luck” and elvish fates are as ominous as a Talent he can’t control.

(Yet!)

But now that he has “saved” his relationship with her by forcing it to bend to his aid…

(My fear of those things was real enough to count as “genuine” is my guess? Ave wants to grow, so let her protect me.)

“Ave, when you look out into this enemy’s sanctum, does anything sing to you as wrong?”

He gestures toward the pillars where darkness weaves by, but Ave’s squinting eyes don’t settle on it.

“… The wind spirits are conspiratorial about something? And it feels… that shorty’s moon’s light is a bit wavy in places. Reflecting, moving water?”

(She only partly perceives it.)

“… No? There’s something… beneath the tree, gathering strength? The… um, the wind says the earth is alive inside there, though it isn’t anywhere else in this manse?”

“How alive?”

“… Whispers and promises? They’re not chatty, which is odd, because usually they don’t shut up?

‘They’re waiting for something or someone’? That’s what they say.”

(It’s all gathering here. This “plot” and the memories of the manse, calling to me…?)

“That’s enough. Thank you, Ave. Now…”

Adris pats her hand, then points back to the gate they entered from.

“Only you can awaken the sleeping knight that will save us all.”

“With a… kiss…?”

The mystery of a magical duty, the promise of being useful, these combine to make the shy girl lean toward him.

Only this tale she will enable made Ave willing to speak to him after embarrassing herself so much with her servile sexual flagrancy.

But a kiss at this moment is a disgusting thought, causing Adris to lean away with a fake smile.

“You should save it for ‘him’! You’ll need… all your strength.”

She halts, immediately staring at the floor with a strained whisper of a question coming.

“… You don’t hate me now after I… invited you… to… do so much… do you?”

“Not at all. In fact…”

(It might’ve been what I saw with Fehr that drove me to focus on it, but from the very first time we fucked…)

“A-A-ADRIS!”

Ave hisses his name in shock when he pulls her into a tight embrace, letting his hands move to her slim waist and butt.

“Every secret I stole from you… made me want to search you inside for more.”

Letting her front grind on his crotch, their sexual organs meet without being prepared.

“Aah… haah, more… more is it… more is good, I think? Yes… please more…”

Unconsciously homing in, the melting Ave begs for a kiss, only to be halted by Adris’ fingers to her lips.

“Save that enthusiasm… but think of me, like I think of you, when you show others your ‘kiss’.”

“… Hick… Ok…”

A short hiccup breaks the spell, causing Ave to slither away while blushing so much that Adris wonders whether she’ll start spitting steam like her guardian once did.

(I do find it… very exciting to drop this girl into new levels of depravity!)

Ave holds forth a bracelet key, a duplicate obtained by Fehr for Adris to hold onto, and speaks the words which align the gateway to the dueling grounds where the Regalia sleep.

The door unseals with a crisp whoosh, grinding open to reveal that great area with Lycia in the distance, looming over her personal equipment and foreign pieces that page harpies swoop in to drop off.

“Ah, Ave, one last thing.”

“Hmmm!? Yes, pr—!?

Cough, Adris!?”

Ave’s bright smile, full of expectation and pure affection, would be dazzling even disregarding the puffy eyes from where she cried and the snot she failed to wipe away.

If only for one fatal flaw she’s missed.

“Clean your face before anyone sees. There’s… a stain.”

“…”

Ave’s fingers come up, flinching at the dried semen on her cheek and nose. When she pulls away, she inspects what’s on the tip. Her mouth hangs open, horror and… perverse satisfaction reflected in her mannerisms.

“Um… clean… off?

Ave thought… she was supposed to…?”

(Supposed to do what!?)

Adris falters a bit, stepping back when his conquest looks to him with the same drunken expression she had when his cock had been out ready to assault her lips, when she’d only breathed to answer his latest order.

“… N-N-N-Nevermind, nevermind, nevermind!”

That black dress of hers is what she pulls up, exposing everything below her stomach for him to gawk at while she hastily scrubs her face clean.

“THE WIND CALLS FOR ME, AND THE CALLER WILL ANSWER!

… Ave is going, goodbye, Adris! Good luck! Tell Still ‘hello’, and that my breath longs to share hers, my best friend’s!”

She rushes through the gate, waving her arm longingly as if Adris is leaving for many seasons.

(Still is undead, though. No breath.)

With a thud the gate reseals.

Adris stands stiff, contemplating how his cock momentarily stiffened.

(Yep, I’m not going to leave the forest until she’s begging for me to knock her up in front of every witness I can find.)

He rubs his stomach, feeling the warmth of this growing ambition.

(In so deep that my balls slap against her… while in ‘crystal clear waters’? I can’t wait to try fucking her with everybody watching us thrust against each other, nearly weightless so we twist and roll!)

“Hahaha…! What a great trip she’s ‘planning’ for me? It sounds like she’s anticipating me doing something nice for her just as much…”

A single clap caps off his wild dream, filed away in his thoughts to return to when appropriate.

How she melted in front of a…

(Father!? Shit… that’s going to be… very hazardous for me if he believes I’ve ever mistreated her.)

But the thought of mistreating her is one furthest from the rest. There’s no pleasure in hurting someone that innocent.

It’s strictly hard not to let his hand stray to pat her head when she’s agitated. Her composure is always a negative quantity, but that’s gradually improved with each challenge she overcomes.

(As long as she doesn’t regress, I don’t mind… no, I… probably would treat her well even if she brought troubles sometimes.)

An unknown enemy still awaits out in the wide world, but Adris has no fear for now.

(By the time we meet, Ave will abandon everything to remain in my arms. And I’ll have her eating from my hand, or perhaps… licking elsewhere on command…?

Being friends with her is always pleasurable in the end! A sweet girl who is eager to mix flavors with me…)

Instead of succumbing to further delusions of how she can pamper him in turn, he turns his physical eyes on the “sight” that he’s already picked out with his aura senses.

Within the shadow of a pillar near the orange tree that projects its own radiance, the darkness atop the ground has become fluid like flowing water.

(Still couldn’t form a tunnel while she was here?)

Adris rushes up to the pillar, paying no mind to anything but hurrying out of view of the top of the tree.

If his calculations are correct, there are only two remaining places where Falke’s workshop could be found.

(Where Still has held up will likely be one!)

He leaps into the liquid shadow, falling into a sunless ocean whose currents swiftly drag him down into nothing.

“Kah! That… took the breath out of me…”

The current that snared him was merciless, and especially tingling.

His skin feels drained of fluids, almost paper-dry with his exposure to the liquid that felt not like water, but…

(Felt like it was trying to steal my warmth! I don’t have any water skins on me—)

“WOOF!”

A pattering of feet wakes Adris up. Many, many feet.

(What?)

With his senses temporarily overwhelmed by Still’s shadow leap, he can only trust plain sight to relay the danger this strangely elongated dog that rushes to greet him represents.

Skittering like a centipede, no dog should slobber from both its mouth and hidden undersides.

“What the fuck is—!?”

“WOOF!”

When it rears and leaps, Adris’ heart stops.

Only adrenaline commands his response.

A swift shift to his right follows with a driving palm timed to intersect the creature’s head. The air cracks with the sound of crunching that cannot be the breaking of bone.

More like stepping on an insect.

“AROOOO!?”

The thrumming in his arteries flows through the contact, his internal reservoir of strength converting to a rocketing flight which sends the mutant dog rolling along the hard floor. It crumples in this unlit hollow Adris has appeared in, stunned and shaking for a second.

It quickly ignores its damage, scurrying for a second rush. Its eyes joyful, tongue and tail wagging.

(This thing is horrible, and that punch drained me without doing any real harm! Kill it, someone!?)

Adris’ aura senses buzz just a little bit less, alerting him to the source of the rope of fire that springs up from the hollow’s floor to wrap around the dog.

“HNNNNGGHH!?”

Tying it up like a roast to be cooked, the burning strands dig into its fur and sizzle. Unable to free itself, the whimpering creature whips about wildly all the same.

(No chant or false flow of aura, but rather… darkness?)

Adris shits, taking in the sights with his eyes growing accustomed to the dimness. Before he can bother with extraneous information, he reads the signs the skulking angel in blue flashes at him.

{Took yah long enough, fuckin’ ass dragger.}

(Sorcery.)

A bubbling pot earns another pinch of what stinging reagent she throws into it, its concerning bluish-green glow escaping with vapors that roil over the lip of its top.

Hunched over it and staring, the witch called Cyrene Stillwater, or just Still, bares a pensive smirk aimed at her own work.

“… Ah… it’s… felt like a while since we last met.”

(Flippant…? Arrogant? And…)

{Yah ain’t ever really met ‘me’, no matter if yah have. Me and you, same sins and also not quite.} Lazy and ugly “words”, lacking the sophistication that Still likes to maintain, end in a dragging finger across her neck. {That’s the real cutter across the throat, starin’ at each other without understandin’ a damn thing… ain’t that right, oh ‘false god’?}

(… Witch and dog…)

After those signed words, a shabby-looking lion creeps out, standing on two feet like a janky, cowering puppet.

“He’s gonna eat meeeeee!? So… so cruel…!”

It immediately throws itself behind Still’s plush butt, earning a kick to its ill-fitting face from the cocky witch.

“CRUELER STILL, POOR ME, POOR ME!”

Despite whining, this misbegotten beast reeks of death, leaking shadow from its loose skin.

(… Lion…)

“HARVESTS BLOOD, SAME AS ME, COWARD GIRL.”

Above, in the unseen heights of this dark hollow, what Adris thought was a bleeding wall of iron makes a screeching sound that Adris is pained to understand.

It, too, shocks him with the enormous aura of horror it exudes.

“DON’T NEED TWO FARMERS, ONE CROP.”

(… Metal giant…? Ah, shit.)

A huge fist looms overhead, reaching out to squeeze him before suddenly halting with the snap of a finger.

{Not yah competition, big guy. Back off.}

Adris rises from his crouched stance to see that Still is the one who snapped and also who the bloody giant with iron stamped to its flesh obeys.

Turning toward Adris finally while still on her stool, Still’s pensive smirk becomes a mocking one when her hand waves over her porcelain mask.

{No spear OR cross? I’m touched, so magnanimous, eh?}

(Spear…? I don’t get that, but you have everything you came in with back!)

No more does she wear a loaner dress from Ave, for Still has completely revived her full ensemble of blue fencer’s doublet, panel dress, and intact witchy hat. She alone resists the demand of Falke the tyrant that all clothe themselves in his green.

{Difference between me an’ you might just be… I ain’t afraid no more. But, a “human” has gotta be afraid of the dark.}

Still taps a column nearby, sending a jolt of magic through it. Where this magic travels, orange crystals begin to glow.

The great underground hollow within the roots of an orange tree is slowly revealed by glowing crystal caskets that connect between each other and the central heartwood.

Portraits hang over the caskets, revealing stern men and fewer women of high breeding, all possessed of bright, blue eyes.

(Falke’s color!)

{Welcome to the crypt of Kestners past~.}

Characters:

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Chapter 125         Table of Contents          Chapter 127