“Alright Sister, you know you can do this! You are strong! You are brave! You can face any challenge!”

“You’ve got this, Mishi! March forward with your head high! You only lose if you let yourself!”

“...” Michael turned, giving the pair of humans behind them the flattest look they could muster. “I don’t need encouragement to cross a bridge.”

“Considering Jacky here said you ran away the last time you went to Dock Five, this gal’s pretty sure you do.”

"I didn't run away! I just…didn't see a reason to stick around the dock, is all," Michael explained, definitely not lying at all.

"Was that after or before you got a worker’s business card?"

"Probably before, since I was the one who got the card." With a wide grin on his face, Giacomo began to walk ahead. "And it's a good thing I did, since this'll help you find your girl, Sister."

"A-Anaya is not my girl!"

“Ahh, I see. Then you want her to be.”

Michael stiffened, then frowned as they followed after the lanky human, trying to ignore the heat at their face. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean that you are interested in this woman, right Sister? Romantically, physically, you are attracted to her.”

“That–I…” She already knows. She said so. So just admit it already. “...perhaps.”

Noriko made a moderately surprised noise as she followed them–sounding more surprised that Michael could even slightly admit their attraction to Anaya rather than the existence of said attraction–but Giacomo just nodded. “Then you need to take initiative! You need to let her know where you stand, otherwise it'll go nowhere!"

"...Hm." Michael didn’t really think Giacomo was right, but they did keep that advice in mind.

"Not that Misha's romantic escapades aren't interesting, but we are here for a reason you know."

"Yeah, to find Ana girl, right? Which will give Sister here the perfect chance."

"Sure, because confessing in a cabaret is totally a good idea."

"Do you got a problem with Sister Isha, Riko? Starting to seem like you don't want her to shoot her shot. Unless…" With a grin, he spun on his foot and leaned towards Noriko. "Oh I see how it is~"

"H-Huh? What do you mean?" Noriko asked as she began to back up.

"Just saying, there's not that many reasons for why you'd want to stop her~"

"Enough of that Giacomo,” Michael interrupted, pushing past the pair of humans with their good arm, “Let's just get Anaya, and then discuss what to do afterwards."

"Fine, fine, but I’m just saying, even if things go wrong, there'll be plenty of girls around who can comfort you~" And that got Michael to stumble hard enough to nearly fall over the bridge. They didn’t though, managing to right themself and shoot a glare back at Giacomo, who held his hands up in apparent surrender, before they stepped off the bridge into the colorful entertainment district that was Orindaco’s Fifth Dock.

It wasn’t any easier to traverse than last time; at least this time Michael wasn’t immediately accosted by a bunny-woman in skimpy clothing, but there were still far too many people in far too little clothing around for their tastes. The Fifth Dock was a place of blatant lust, as evidenced by the readily displayed workers across an assortment of cabarets and brothels, interspersed with the occasional casino and tavern. No matter the business though, there always seemed to be some type of greeter gleefully displaying themself out at the front, calling out passersby over to their places of business and readily flirting with bystanders that appeared interested. They even saw a restaurant advertising its services with women only wearing the establishment’s menus, which felt at least somewhat unsanitary.

“Huh, didn’t expect to see a nyotaimori place this far east,” Noriko noted with some curiosity, which didn’t explain much but Michael wasn’t about to ask. So instead they glanced to Giacomo–

“...Did you take your shirt off?” they asked as their human companion adjusted said shirt to cover his midriff. Though, huh, it was gray now. The shirt, not him.

“Hm? Sort of? I just flipped my shirt inside out, Sister,” he explained while placing his hat back on, “The Silks don’t take too kindly to other guilds walking around in their colors, so it’s just being prudent.”

“The Courtesan Guild?” Noriko interjected, sounding curious.

“Yes, them, exactly. They’re fiercely protective of this dock, so it's not uncommon for other guilds to end up taking a swim in the river."

"Hm." Michael glanced over at Noriko, who still had her bunny hood on. "Will you be okay?"

“Heh, don't worry, they'd have to grab this gal first to be able to do that. Besides, it’s not like she’s the only ‘bunny’ on the dock.”

Michael rolled their eyes at the reminder, but Noriko was, admittedly, correct about the presence of various rabbitfolk across the dock. Including one dressed like a pirate– “Ah, her!”

“Eh? Who’s her–Ah, Misha!”

The white-haired lagothrope moved with ease through the crowds with only the occasional acknowledging tilt of her tricorn towards those she passed. Michael, meanwhile, practically shoved their way through, a frown on their face as they tried to track their quarry, which was unexpectedly difficult. Though maybe it should have been?

The angel felt almost convinced there was some type of festival going on with how many people happened to be in the streets, most of whom were wearing far less than they should be. It wasn’t like the festival in Luceneva though, no; it was more like Kyora, where the people came for entertainment and cared little for shame or inhibition. Though considering they saw more than one succubus amidst the crowds, cheerfully advertising a business or flirting with passersby–or actually being one of those passersby being flirted with; Michael wasn’t entirely sure, but they were fairly certain one group of giggling, stumbling succubi were actually patrons engaging in some type of brothel crawl–they doubted anyone here really cared for such things.

They did consider diverting to go after said succubi, given the problem of demons amidst mortals, but they had different priorities at the moment. Not least because at the end of the day, succubi and incubi were just less threatening than some of the more dangerous demon types out there; really, vampires were probably more of a threat to the common mortal–And there are vampires here too, hm…Ignore it, prioritize, focus–

“Do you ever drink the blood of your patrons?” Michael elected to ask, turning to a vampiric prostitute in a very low-cut dress with her hair done up to resemble devil horns.

“Only if you request it, cutie~”

“...Understood.” Not a priority then, good, walking away now.

Though now they’d lost the rabbit. Hm. Right, well, I know the name of the business, so I should just look at the signs, right?

On a second glance, the Fifth Dock really did resemble Kyora in more than one way as Michael noticed the odd lanterns hanging up near the doors of each establishment they passed, much like the strips of cloth that denoted businesses back in the dragon’s town. They weren’t quite sure what the lights were meant to mean though; some were green, others yellow, and a few were red.

Maybe it refers to levels of indecency? Green light for moderate, yellow light for excessive, red for…Well, red for things that shouldn’t be spoken of in polite society.

The signs weren’t really helpful in that regard either, aside from mildly annoying Michael with the thinly-veiled innuendos. “Mounds and Valleys”, “Silken Sheets”, “The Pink Canoe”, “The Unplucked Rose”, “The Plucked Rose”, “The Fuc- “Not acknowledging that one…”

They shook their head, scanning the crowd again for hints of bunny ears, which…wasn’t especially helpful considering there were some people wearing half-masks and headbands with rabbit ears. Probably for some stupid masquerade thing, but the main issue was finding the “Treasury”–

Which they were right outside of. “Huh.”

Okay so aimless meandering did eventually lead somewhere. Though Michael did feel a minor sense of annoyance because somehow, the pirate-themed place wasn’t shaped like a boat, instead being more of a large building with sparkling lights and a statue of merrow at the top of it’s shiny blue sign, happily displaying her bare body to any onlookers. Which didn’t include Michael. Because they wouldn’t be distracted by that, of course.

Though they did suppose as they entered the “Treasury” that it was more of a sea theme than a pure pirate theme. The decor did feature starfish and clamshells along with treasure chests, which was probably some type of pun considering some of the entertainers appeared to be wearing starfish and shells–Hm. Hmm.

Ignoring their own vague memories of a very stupid dream, Michael went up to the greeter at the front, who was wearing a much more decent sea-green gown. Which was really only comparatively modest since her “neckline” went down to her abdomen. Wait, is that how the term neckline works? …Never mind. “Did Anaya Greenfall come in here?”

The blue woman, her finned ears marking her as a nereid, blinked. “Pardon?”

“Anaya Greenfall. A wood elf. Tan skin, freckles, dark hair. She had antlers but then lost them because…well it’s a whole thing. She’s also shorter than me, maybe about average height for a female elf? Or taller, I’m not actually sure–High elves tend to be tall and I’m usually around–That doesn’t matter. Have you seen her?”

“...” The greeter gave Michael a very obvious once over, before adjusting the book at her podium. “I’m sorry, Miss, but we don’t give out the names of our customers.”

“I’m not asking for her name, I’m asking if she’s here.”

The nereid gave them a flat look, for some reason. “I mean we don’t take their names, Miss. Most people prefer anonymity.”

Michael grimaced, then tried to look past her towards the floor, where various tables and booths were set up facing a stage where a singer and pianist were performing. Said singer appeared to be a merrow–No, a siren, judging by the feathered hair–while the pianist was an octopus of some description, which seemed like a remarkably bad idea to Michael; sirens were supposed to have hypnotic qualities, weren’t they?

Well, if the business doesn’t mind…ugh, just find Anaya first, don’t get distracted–There are a lot of people wearing orange here.

There were indeed. A good portion of the building seemed to be occupied by individuals of varying types–primarily drakes and humans, most of which had the red or orange scales of fire- and sundrakes while the humans largely had bronze and darker brown complexions–in brass cuirasses over orange cloth. A few still wore feathered helmets, but most had on bandanas or similar headscarves instead. And while there weren’t any visible weapons on their persons, something about the orange group reminded Michael of the mercenaries they’d already encountered–

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Then their attention was drawn away again, this time by a sudden laugh that cut through the melodious mood the piano created. The pianist didn’t start playing, the singer didn’t stop singing, but for a brief moment, Michael only heard the familiar laughter of their companion on this long-running tour.

Before they knew it, they were moving her way, past the greeter, past tables to a larger booth where many people gathered.

Anaya looked good. Her green dress looked simple, tied at the neck, green as ever, and she smiled, giggling at some joke or story from the dark-skinned woman she sat with. Human, presumably, though Michael didn’t care to check for the moment. They just made their way closer, ignoring the knot of tension in their body–

There was a man in the way. Another human with brown skin and black hair, a short beard and an easy smile. He wore orange like the other humans and drakes, a loose tunic and a cuirass, and patterned yellow-and-orange bandana looped around his head with a few bright feathers sticking out of it. “Hello there. The queen wasn’t expecting visitors.”

“What? What queen–” Right, Queen Nash…something. She’s here too? Well that does make things convenient. A glance back at Anaya and her companion–Companions, as it seemed the scruffy nereid sitting on the other side of Anaya was a customer as well. That, or a worker who was getting far too drunk during work. Michael would have looked deeper to make sure, but they were far too aware of what trying to look upon sin in a place like this would be like to them. "Brascul sent me to retrieve her and my companion."

It wasn’t entirely a lie. Just…mostly one.

“Brascul sent you. Archduchess Brascul sent you, an unknown high elf, to bring the queen to an unknown location?”

“The location is known, it’s her palace.”

The human chuckled. He had an accent that vaguely reminded Michael of Giacomo’s. A faint roll to the “r” sounds and such. Some sounds were rougher though. “So you say. You, a red-haired high elf, dressed like a boxer, with your arm in a sling. Is it broken?”

“Yes. Why is that important?”

“It is important because it is the primary reason I haven’t tried to remove you from the premise, Miss Strange Elf. If I thought the arm wasn’t broken and you were faking the injury, we would be talking very differently.”

Michael didn’t really feel like knocking out another queen’s bodyguard on the exact same day. Tactful, how to be tactful… “I appreciate your benefit of the doubt. May I speak to Anaya now?”

“Greenfall is your companion? She didn’t mention you.”

“You can ask her,” they said, trying to tamp down on the flash of irrational indignation as they attempted to peek around the guard. They could still see Anaya, somewhat, over at the table with the queen, and for a second they thought they caught her eye before another guard moved in front of them. A drake close to Argus in height and build, specifically, with the yellow-gold scales of a thunderdrake and a black-feathered mustache.

“And why should the captain do that? You’re the one wanting an audience with her majesty, so you should be the one proving yourself to us, not the other way around.”

“Perzo, I have it handled,” the apparent captain stated, sounding annoyed and prompting Perzo to raise his hands in surrender. Or, well, one hand, the other was still holding a bottle of champagne in it.

“I do not doubt that, Captain Qamari! What I doubt is this elf’s resolve.”

Michael bristled at the mocking tone in his voice. “What?!”

“You heard me. Anyone can demand to see a queen, but few ever get that honor. What makes you worthy of it?” He held up his free hand. “No, don’t answer that. I already have a good test in mind.”

The angel narrowed their eyes, glaring up at the tall drake, then nodded sharply. “Fine. I accept your ‘test’.”

“Good! Then here is your test. Stand still.” And with that, he upended the entire champagne bottle over their head.

The pale, yellowy beige-ish liquid ran down their face in rivulets, running through their hair and soaking into their clothes and bandages under the mocking gaze of the yellow-scaled drake. For a second, they thought they heard an indignant noise, some kind of offended sound, but they weren’t the one to make it and it was difficult to pay attention, what with the alcohol dripping past their eyes.

"..." Reaching up, Michael wiped away the champagne from their face, not wanting to accidentally drink any as they did their best to stay calm–

"Ah, told you to stay still, guess you failed. Now shove off," the guard said, before he tried to push Michael away. Emphasis on “tried”, since Michael stood perfectly still without even a hint of stumbling. Steam slowly began to rise from the angel’s body as their eyes narrowed into a deep glare. "Huh. Don't think I've ever seen someone literally get steaming mad."

Taking a deep breath, Michael reached up to grip the hand on their shoulder. And if that was enough to break his own grip, along with what sounded like a few bones in his wrist, well clearly he wasn't a good guard.

“FAUH–Augh, you–!” If their arm wasn’t broken, Michael probably would have followed up with a punch to the face. Since it was though, they couldn’t be blamed for kicking him in the groin instead. Suffice to say, he crumpled quite quickly after that.

“Ah, there she is–Sister! There you are!” Oh, hey, Giacomo found me.

“Mishi please don’t tell me you just beat up another queensguard…” And Noriko was also there, looking less than impressed at the groaning thunderdrake on the floor.

“He started it,” they stated flatly, before turning towards Qamari, who was watching the crumpled Perzo with a faintly amused expression, “Can I see Anaya now? And the queen, her too.”

“You just kicked one of my subordinates hard enough to bring him to his knees even with the groin guard I know he’s wearing. Do you really think that means I would let you pass me?”

“...It worked with the previous bodyguard.” Well, no, the context was completely different. “Mostly. It mostly worked–”

“Ah, hey, Sir Zefiro? Or is it Ser Zefiro?”

The angel paused, blinking at Anaya’s voice before they noticed her standing by the guard’s side, looking up at him.

“Captain Qamari, if you're trying to be formal. I’m afraid I’m not much of a knight. What is it, Miss?”

“I…do know her. So…” Anaya glanced at Michael, looking…it was hard to tell. Conflicted was probably the best word. “Could you…let us talk?”

“Of course, Miss Greenfall, as you wish.” And the guard stepped back with a slight smile, letting Anaya face Michael properly as the angel felt…not quite nervous. They never felt fear, it wasn’t in their nature. Still, there was something.

"Hey there, you must be Sist–" Giacomo's greeting was cut short as Noriko grabbed him from behind, muffling him in the process.

"...Was he about to call you–"

"Can I kiss you?"

"...Huh?"

"I was told I should make myself clear, but it would be improper for me to kiss you without your permission," Michael explained, feeling incredibly…not nervous, just…twitchy, all of a sudden.

"That… Misha, that's sweet, but no, we need to talk first."

“Aw, that’s a shame. Here I thought we would see a big, romantic resolution to your troubles,” a new voice spoke up. A woman’s voice, smooth and low with an obvious amusement in it.

The third queen of Luceneva, technically fourth if one counted the succubus debacle, smiled as Michael turned their attention her way. It was…admittedly a nice smile, white teeth contrasting against dark skin and compared to bright yellow eyes that lacked pupils. Or, no, there were pupils, but they weren’t dark like standard humans’; instead, they were like small pinpricks of fire in her eyes, dancing with amusement, and as Michael actually looked at Nashyia Aathun, they noted the faint red markings around her exposed arms and shoulders, shown off by the yellow gown she wore and the wispy, almost smokey quality to her white hair.

“You know you shouldn’t be checking me out, honey~” the queen teased, her smile widening, “I am a married woman, and you already have a lovely lady worried about you~”

That prompted a snort from the nereid beside her. “Ah murried w’man tourin’ bordellos.”

“What can I say? I still like to be entertained~”

Anaya sighed a little there, before gesturing to the two women she’d been sitting with. “Misha, this is Queen Nash and Josie. Josie and Nash, this is Misha.”

“Charmed, I’m sure~ You may kneel now.”

Michael didn’t kneel, though they did give a slight bow, prompting a pout from the queen before they regarded…Josie. “...This is the Josie you mentioned before?”

“Yep, this is my ex, Josephine Deeptide, Pontiff of Water.”

“I see–...” They turned their gaze back towards Anaya, blinking. “...Your ex-lover is the pontiff of Mesic?”

“Yep. I mentioned that, right?”

“No. No you didn’t.”

“Sup,” the clearly drunk nereid greeted, raising a hand, before going back to what she was doing previously. Namely, drinking the provided liquors while resting in the lap of one of the cabaret ladies.

“...”

“Don’t judge my taste in women,” Anaya ordered, sounding annoyed.

“I wasn’t.” They were, a little bit. Not too much because of the potential for hypocrisy. “She seems like your type.”

“...I don’t know how to take that, so we’re just going to move along.”

“Right…Queen Nashyia, I will be blunt. Are you a leviathan?” Michael asked.

The queen blinked, then snorted and started giggling. “Heeheeheehee–Ha! I have to say, I really do have to say, that is the last thing I think I have ever expected anyone to ask me! Really, I think more persons–ah, more people have gotten confused on the difference between my people and the marid than me and a leviathan. No, no, I have to admit, I am not, nor do I think I could be, given my own nature.”

“...Which would be?”

“Check for yourself, darling~ You can, I’m sure.”

Michael frowned, but they did elect to risk it. She gave permission, after all. And it wasn’t as though it took much effort to do as when they Looked deeper upon the queen, it was immediately obvious her own nature was far too fiery to be a leviathan. The aura she had wasn’t fully mortal, that much was obvious, but what was there mixed more with air and fire than any deep sea essence, and even the pontiff at her side had far too holy of an aura to be mistaken as one of the leviathans.

Trying to look too far beyond them did give Michael a bit of a headache, if just from the thick fog of Lust in the air, but the queen wasn’t a leviathan, so…objective accomplished, they supposed.

“Thank you for your…uh, thank you, your majesty.”

“Charity would have been a good one. Grace, perhaps? Allowance? Forbearance?” Queen Nashyia mused, clearly amused, before waving a hand, “If that is all, I would prefer to be getting back to my previous activities~”

“Didn’t you say you were a married woman?”

“And~? A married woman cannot make friends~?”

Michael didn’t particularly care about the sanctity of a marriage between adulterers, though… “Brascul did request that you return to her palace.”

“Oh, so you were not lying to my stalwart then? Interesting~. Very well, I suppose I should make an appearance if the Archduchess does insist. Anaya, are you and your companions coming along?”

“Oh, uh–Yes, yep, we are. We are definitely doing that,” Anaya said, nodding, before she glanced at Michael, “Uh, can you get Josie?”

“What? Why?”

“Because I’m not leaving her alone here and you’re strong enough to carry her.”

“...Why do I have to carry her?”

“Because I would appreciate it. Please?”

Michael was the Cardinal of Fortitude. They were an angel of Judgment, known for spiritual strength and an ironclad will. They did not, nor would they ever, bow to an external pressure. Especially not Anaya’s pouting face.

Or at least that’s what they told themself as they helped Josie stumble along near the back of the queen’s entourage as they moved through the city again, using their uninjured arm to support her.

“Is it really broken?” Anaya asked, audibly concerned, which Michael might have appreciated more if she’d considered it earlier.

“I would not be wearing a sling if I did not have to,” the angel answered, keeping a decent enough grip around the waist of the somewhat soft nereid pressed up against them.

“I…yeah, that does make sense, I–Sorry, I just…I could ask someone else–”

“It’s fine, I have her.” Michael considered the stumbling nereid for a second, then simply elected to hoist her up under their arm instead of letting her fail at walking further. It was actually easier, funnily enough.

“...Sorry, again.”

“It’s fine, again.”

“...Did you get sassier?”

Michael didn’t answer that, largely because Giacomo chose that moment to introduce himself, despite the fact that Noriko was still trying to tug him back. It was almost impressive on his part, considering she had an arm still looped around his neck. “Ah, hello again! So, you must be the lady Sister Isha is in love with!”

Michael didn’t drop Josie, but it was a near thing.

“Yup, that’s me,” Anaya answered.

That time they did drop her.