Child… no, ‘Kid’ the beast-kin summon had called her, not that it was substantially different in their language while wildly different in concept… was hungry. The beast-kin summon had complained about it as well, but Kin had been so distracted by the tingling, burning need that wished so much to be satisfied that she had not recognized the feeling. It was like a sinking hole inside the abdomen of this vessel and it was most unpleasant.
She was also very irritable. And… sad? The feeling was completely foreign. The concept pulled from this new language the word appropriate for it, which was a fascinating experience. Emotion was absolutely within the capacity of her divine Shell, however the emotions allowed by that body of pure Essence and this corporeal form of mass and Life were substantively different, even if analogues.
For one, she did not recall ever experiencing the emotion of ‘sadness’ before. Like any Child, she was either afraid, or angry, or hungry, triumphant, confident, powerful… sad? No, not sad. What had the Universal Interpreter described it as when she observed these ‘humans’ discussing it? Something like ‘Dissatisfying feeling of loss and/or insufficiency.’ Knowing the language was so much better than the Interpreter!
Alone though, she did know. Any Child was so very alone. Mother was as like to destroy you out of anger as deign to speak with you beyond orders or admonishments or the very rare praise. Praise from Mother was as good as an orgasm was to this corporeal body but infinitely more difficult to achieve.
Now she was walking, struggling to keep up, uncomfortable where the chording had cut into her skin, sore where her joints had been flexed too far, and so hungry. At least the clothing she had summoned was incredibly comfortable. It was, after-all, why she had replicated this utterly common dress from the source Realm. None of the summons had commented much upon it.
Actually, they were taking this all quite well given that inserting herself directly into the body formation portion of the Ritual had required completely removing the mental adaptation safeguards put in place to prevent insanity and psychosis. She was totally confident she could prevent anything from happening.
Yeah, right. The summons had forcibly restrained her and bound her! She was utterly helpless! Even worse was how she had been even more driven into desire by it, though she had been loath to admit it. When the beast-kin summon had born his weight down upon her legs and pressed against her… Oh, it made her shudder even now. The pain of the chording and their anger had been a complete reversal of the mood but secretly she had wanted them to take her by force, in that moment.
Perhaps she could convince them to consent to it in the future. They had commented that her insubstantial chest pillows were not a total loss. She didn’t see how her form was terribly pleasing to look upon by the standards of the source Realm or this one for that matter, but it was what she had to work with.
And she would have more orgasms, she so swore it! At least until they could obtain a legendary item such as ‘profiteroles.’
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Elean marched ahead of the others, though they followed quite close. It was so strange to have a group of people nearby and not feel the Compulsion. Whatever had happened during the Ritual, the Compulsion was gone, completely scrubbed from her Archive, no longer a permanently active spell. Also scrubbed from the Archive were large portions of her spells… her enhancement spell was still intact, thankfully. A few minor ones seemed fine. Many were damaged structures, incomplete or with clearly broken portions.
If she were to face an experienced Sentinel in combat, they would be able to tear her apart without even needing to resort to physical means. It chilled her to think that they might face threats after leaving the Talor lands as well and that she wouldn’t be prepared for them, however the Sentinels rarely encountered any invaders with any real means of posing a threat.
She’d also learned from some of those she’d executed herself and through other Sentinels that Talor were generally more capable of higher tier magical spells than others. While it was uncommon for a Talor to be able to cast a Tier 3 spell, Tier 4 spells did exist amongst their people. They had never heard of another species that could cast even a Tier 3 spell outside of Dragons and the very rare Man, and Man had only rare access to even Tier 2 spells.
It was likely only through sheer proliferation of their species that allowed a recognizable number of Tier 3 capable casters amongst the population of Man. Even with greater numbers, Giblain and Yurk populations rarely even had Tier 1 casters. Maybe raw statistics did not come as much into play as she thought.
Her ears moved around quite a bit more than her Talor ears, though the mobility did not disturb her in the way it seemed to disturb ‘Alan’. He had not corrected her even after she realized she had been saying his name slightly wrong and for that she was thankful. Failing to pronounce a Talor’s name was considered an insult. Referring to one by their title was more common than by their name and yet when she gave her name freely they had pronounced it with care.
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She should have made the effort to listen more carefully. Still, the Man trait of ‘going with it’ seemed to work to her advantage, given their need for haste. Had they been Talor, especially Inner Talor, they would have wanted to take the time to completely understand the impending situation. The concept of an emergency was only really instilled in Sentinels and due to the Compulsion’s insistence when major Mana events or large numbers of individuals were detected.
Even with that experience, it felt very childish to Elean to be in such a rush. The reasoning for the rush was quite real though. They would certainly be killed by any Sentinel that found them. Her estimates had been, she felt, conservative on the side of safety. Her range was significant even for a Sentinel. Her patrolled area quiet. She had taken that position through the machinations and maneuvering of the last fifty years specifically because it allowed her more time for study and experimentation. Rather than constantly dealing with minor incidental incursions.
The damage to the woodland strip and especially to the grassland was shocking. It was completely devoid of Life and Mana. Even walking to the edge of the Lifeless portion of the grass, the Life beyond it was weak and the Mana non-existent. They were almost two miles now from the site of the Ritual and the Mana was very, very thin. Her internal regeneration was working, slowly, though her body would normally supplement that by processing external Mana as well.
With her stomach empty, her body drained largely of blood sugar stores, very little fat to convert further, she was stuck running on empty. Likely she would be, for some time yet it seemed. Not that she had many spells that could actually be used even if she had the Mana.
They forged onward. The group of Man, of friends, had traveled only about this far on their own. She noticed that there was starting to be bits of branches and wood on the ground. Nothing survived long here in the forest, the local mycology breaking it down incredibly fast. Wood for use had to be harvested fresh and cured in an oven lest the symbiotic fungal elements simply devour the material as it dried, even removed from the forest.
Wood was not a major good for trade with the Inner Lands though. They had their own forests which were managed and of higher quality. Rather it was mostly useful for the self-production of goods or as fuel for Sentinels in the cold of winter. Some of the Sentinels even built structures above ground. Mostly the young ones.
They had long since passed the location that the now-man Lucy had identified as where three of them had exited the river, having swum ashore not far above a section of rapids. The rapids used to fascinate her, but she’d always been prevented from entering the water by the Compulsion. The white water and rocks could result in drowning and fun with high risk was considered a suicide attempt by the spell.
She was finding it hard to focus, hunger pains were distracting her greatly. The godling was complaining of it as well. The three Man didn’t seem to be so impacted, but Alan was clearly suppressing further complaints. Even thinking about someone caused her ears to swivel towards that person for at least a moment. It was interesting and disconcerting. She had been prepared to die though. No, she had planned to die, had this method of escape not worked.
How could she allow herself to dwell on what was, overall, such a minor change? Particularly when the four Summoned were taking it with remarkable calm. Had she woken up as a male… it was an interesting thought. Not one she had ever considered, that was for sure. Male Talor were…
“Psst! Elean, right and forward, is that a person?” Her ears flicked first towards the Man Aaron, then in the direction she swiveled her head. The group came to a quick and hushed stop. Even the godling had the sense to be silent.
A huge figure, muscles bulging underneath the ironwood scale male, each thumbnail sized scale intricately carved with enchantments so heavily charged the light was literally distorting, appearing as if a heat haze. The armor did not cover the arms more than halfway down the tree trunk thick upper portions, which themselves were enchanted with glowing tattoos. The square, chiseled jaw was moving rhythmically as the nearly three meter tall warrior scanned the forest lazily, the eyes, deeply sunken into thick eyebrow ridges, calmly locked onto their group.
The lavender hair was wrapped on his head in a war braid. He bore no helm, but Elean had no doubt the enchanted armor would provide protection regardless. A heavily decorated maul was held lightly in one massive hand and almost seemed too small for its wielder, though Elean doubted that two of the Summons together would be required to even lift it.
“Sentinel. The Oath has been damaged. Report to me for re-administration.” The deep voice did not even need to be magically enhanced to reverberate through the near total silence, only the muffled sound of the distant rapids otherwise audible. Her heart pounded faster and faster in her chest, restarting after it had frozen for several beats.
“Did you guys also understand that? He’s not speaking English though…” Aaron received confirmation from Lucy and John. Alan was just quiet, his eyes staring blankly at nothing. The godling abruptly stumbled and fell to her hands and knees, shaking.
Elean swallowed hard. This wasn’t just a male. This was a Guardian, the elite Inner Lands equivalent of Sentinels. The one time she’d seen one was when a Sentinel had lost their mind and tried to forcibly re-enter the Inner Lands. A Guardian had hit the Sentinel so hard that their upper and lower bodies had been separated by a dozen meters in the blink of an eye, everything in-between splattered over the grassland and the other Sentinels present.
What a fool she’d been, to think she would ever known freedom.