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Flow
Dances.Ch31

Dances.Ch31

The twelve charging Nobles are shouting unintelligibly. War cries, I suppose. I inspect how much energy I have, once more baffled at how quickly I'm regenerating flow, I have just enough for a lion strike. I assemble a full body strengthening construct instead and link it directly to my reserves.

The Rykz angle their shields upward to receive them, those on the flanks that aren't being charged fall back and fold behind the others to form secondary defensive lines. I calmly watch as the first line of warriors is obliterated but they don't fall without throwing one last blow with their final breaths.

Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.

Four horses die in exchange for the drones' lives, five more when the Nobles reach the next row, and the rest fall by the time they hit the final line of warriors protecting me. Twenty Rykz used their deaths to eliminate their mounted advantage.

I understand why the Templars equip their horses with chain-mails, they wouldn't be able to handle these suicidal creatures with smaller numbers otherwise. Although, their lack of lances is also hindering their ability to strike down their foes before they can counter-attack.

I launch forward and smash a Lord's arm before he can get up, the warriors close in on the dismounted Nobles, replacing their fallen comrades with flawless discipline. I consider offering them a way out, for a single moment, before launching a blow towards a Lady's chest. She blocks but it doesn't change a thing, her sword breaks and my hammer crushes her ribs. The steel lamination of her leather armor does not save her.

A Lord tries to flank me from outside my field of vision, I avoid his blade without breaking a sweat, forewarned by my new sense. I counter with a backhanded swing and break his leg without even throwing him a glance. I leave the rest to the two Rykz that approach his back.

Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.

Twang. Archers release a volley of arrows, I grab one of the dead warrior's shield by the edge and raise it in front of me. I notice that one of the missile's trajectory is headed directly for my thigh and take a knee to protect my lower body.

Several Rykz around me have projectiles planted into their limbs, however, the armor covering their upper and lower trunks have protected their more important organs. They don't seem overly affected by the metal points intruding in their bodies, apart from one of them who has a limp left arm because his elbow was pierced.

I let go of the shield as soon as the last arrow impacts it. I rush into the Noble's ranks to break their defensive circle as the warriors aren't having much success at it. I use my new-found awareness of the world around me to fight like a madwoman, swinging my hammer wildly while trusting in my ability to avoid their ripostes.

Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.

I shatter their line by taking two Ladies out in close succession. Two Rykz follow me and cover my flanks. Another volley of arrows hits, none aimed at me as I am too close to the last seven Nobles. I frown and decide to retreat. Too many warriors have fallen, there are only about twenty left.

I jump back and slam my hammerhead to the ground. The drones disengage in order, forming a strong defensive wall around me. We pull back, weathering the high-born who pursue without too much trouble as the Rykz' focus on parrying with their shields.

The Nobles give up their pursuit when I start throwing retaliating blows by slipping them between warriors who step aside in perfect sync to allow me. I pause as we reach the outer edge of the archer's range and search for a specific tower. I find my Lady, gazing down at me.

Rh-hyyyyy, kszz.

“You'll have to understand that having good intentions isn't enough, my Lady. Nobility doesn't deserve to be given the opportunity to change.” I utter slowly, allowing myself to call her in that way because we are much too far apart for my voice to reach her.

Still, she looks down, in shame perhaps. Because of my actions or Odo's? I turn around and start walking towards the huge dark black spot with large towering shadows scattered among it, in front of us on the plains. The warriors follow my lead, maintaining a protective formation all along.

I can somehow tell that they lose tension as we approach the army and their comrades. The Rykz stop making breathing cries and spread out, going as far as to beat down the occasional bushes we come across.

Looking out in case of an ambush I suppose, surprising considering how good their ability to sense the heat in their surroundings is. Although, I suppose the cold bloods wouldn't appear as clearly.

A dozen scouts split from the squirming mass of Rykz and approach. The warriors depart and let them take over as my escort. I follow them towards a small unnoticeable hill located off-center in the army. We walk around it and come across as many as six different tunnel openings camouflaged behind with leafy branches and bushes cut off at their base.

The scouts clear one of the entrances and guide me inside. I dismantle my strengthening construct and gather the flow to create a small ball of fire that I make hover over my hand. I can distinguish my surroundings with my new sense, but seeing things with my own eyes is still reassuring.

The tunnel has a downward slope that continues for a good hundred meters until I step in an underground circular room, there is a large rectangular table but no chairs. Two coffers are set along the wall and a dozen amphorae are lined up next to them. My escort departs without lingering.

Two Princesses walk in from a side tunnel, Celyz and Fenyz. The former is surprisingly wearing a chest plate while the latter is still carrying her full armor, complete with the spearheads attached to the end of her tendrils.

“Celyz, Fenyz.” I utter quietly. “I'm going to need some answers.”

“Jessica.” Celyz says in her resounding voice. “I see you encountered some hardship.” She points at the small cut in my weapon's hammerhead and the cut in my chain-mail with a tendril. “For it to slice through such a high concentration of Vuskyt.”

“Don't know the construct but I've seen it cleave rock.” I reply shortly.

“Armor piercing, high consumption but very difficult to defend against.” Fenyz comments.

“Why did you let those four humans go?” I ask, squeezing my hammer's grip.

“We...” Celyz starts but corrects herself. “I did not see the need to cause unnecessary deaths, I thought you would agree with the sentiment.”

“I see.” I say. I let go of the handle and the weapon hits the floor with a clang, my knees lose strength and I crumble down, falling on my ass.

“Is everything alright?” She asks in a concerned tone.

“Father is dead.” I reply slowly. “And I'm not feeling... enough. Am I such a monster now that his death is merely... disturbing?”

Celyz angles her ovaloid head, seemingly scrutinizing me. She closes the distance between us with a single step of her long legs. Her feet plant themselves in the soil to either side of me and she crouches down to my level. Her tendrils unfurl from around her chest to wrap around my shoulders.

“We need to talk about...”

“Not now, Fenyz!”

“Sorry.”

I don't react, not a blink, not a shake. I simply remain there, catatonic and unable to rise even a tear. The blazing hatred in my heart is burning so intensely that I am having trouble separating it from my desire to feel my Lady's arms around me.

My arms move unconsciously, they slip between the tendrils to desperately reach around Celyz' torso and pull her against my chest. A long hazy moment passes, my vision grows blurry. I hear distant sobs as I lose consciousness.

--- --- ---

I awaken on a large sheet bed, without my armor and in simple clothes. Celyz is laying next to me, her tendrils still holding me close. One of my legs is held tight between her reversed knees and I can feel her root-like toes around my feet, she is neither warm nor cool to the touch.

There are racks in the room, holding spearheads and armor pieces designed to fit a Princess. There is a small round table with parchment rolls set on it and a few books. Celyz' room, I suppose, though I can't imagine her wielding weapons in battle.

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“Good morning.” Celyz greets, we are so close that the vibrations of her voice tickle the inside of my ears. “How are you?”

She is breathing deeply, the air she inhales and exhales through the twelve breathing holes along her ovaloid head move my hair. I sit up, her tendrils loosen to give way. I shake my discomfort with the situation before formulating a response.

“Too calm, almost unfeeling.” I reply. “Worried.”

“About the limb? Your smell became... interesting after the procedure. It's, hum, intoxicating now.” Celyz whispers.

I shiver in unease at her choice of words and climb over the bed's frame to reclaim some personal space. Celyz steps out on the other side, she stretches and rises to her full height before returning to a resting stance with her knees half bent. I didn't only mean the parasite but I don't want to talk about... what happened and my role in his death.

“I kept telling it to fight and feed when it was already eating, also tried to retain control. It linked with my spine in reaction and apparently shared its ability to detect heat in our surroundings with me.” I explain.

“Fascinating.” She comments, approaching the table and seizing a brush to start taking notes. “It couldn't understand where the threat came from so it gave you the tools to fight it off yourself?”

“Whatever it did, it's still diffusing that cool substance. I think it's... affecting my emotions.” I reply.

“Ah. Tell it to focus on healing if you haven't already.” Celyz tells me. “It may not have stopped on its own after the danger passed since it didn't identify it, to begin with.”

I try to do so directly, without the use of a construct. The limb responds almost immediately and the cool sensation fades in time. It then falls in some kind of slumber, my arm drops to my side and my new heat sense loses clarity. I suddenly notice the lack of light and assemble a fire construct.

“What does it do to me?” I ask as hunger emerges to the forefront of my mind.

“I'm not certain, we've lost the ability to produce it with our tendrils but something similar may be part of our natural body chemistry, the equivalent to your adrenaline. When there is a threat or excitement, we experience an increase in focus and some emotions, like hostility, are exacerbated while others, like pain or anything that leads to innaction, are dulled. I wouldn't know how it would affect you but I assume that the parasite does this to ensure that its current host is apt to do battle aggressively, even if it was originally a prey who would rather flee.” Celyz explains. “I'm quite surprised that it is acting in this way. I don't think it would do this normally as it should instinctively prioritize its ability to escape rather than exhaust itself to keep you in shape to defend yourself.”

“Could you stop taking notes?” I ask, sitting down on the bed frame behind her as the weight of the previous day falls on my shoulders.

“My apologies.” Celyz says, abashed. She turns around. “How are you feeling now?”

“Worse. Which is better, I guess.” I reply.

“I'm sorry about what happened to you.” Celyz' voice sounds sincere. She approaches, extending a tendril that she runs over the side of my cheek. “Is there anything I can do?”

“We have the beginnings of a plan to decimate Meria's leadership by smuggling Rykz inside the city through the docks. Lend me harvesters and I'll butcher Nobles until they have no other choice but to call for talks.” I answer, feeding the flames of my anger because it helps with the guilt.

“We can talk about all that later.” She shakes her head, taking another step to hug me with her tendrils, pressing my face against her flat belly, that lacks a belly button. “Do you want me to give you some relief, make you feel good?”

“What?” I ask, confused. I push her away just enough to look up at her face, forgetting once more that there are no cues for me to read there.

“I mean sex.” Celyz says in an oddly shifting tone. I remain frozen for a long while, unable to wrap my head around the idea. She awaits patiently.

“I'm not... we're not...” I stutter, a furious blush takes over my cheeks, I can somewhat detect it through the blurry heat sense provided by my limb.

“I... am the one who visited you after the implantation of the parasite, while you were still paralyzed and dying. It wasn't a hallucination of... her. I thought it could trigger your body's survival instincts. My assumption turned out to be correct in the end but I regret taking the liberty without receiving your consent.” Celyz admits carefully.

I hurriedly glance away, it probably doesn't do anything to prevent her from knowing my reaction considering the fact that they detect heat in a radius around themselves but it allows me to regain some sense of control on myself.

It doesn't last as the embarrassingly vivid memory of how good it was to finally get off is now on my mind. My feelings conflict and I don't find the strength or courage to get mad at her actions even though they bother me.

“Can you even?” I ask, interested despite myself and disturbed by the fact that my nipple hardened in excitement. Am I reacting to her?

“We can have sex and experience pleasure, yes.” The vibrations of Celyz' voice are evidently fluctuating. Is she aroused? Flustered? “Our tendrils can get very sensitive. It is a way to bond socially for us. Our ancestors were all female, they reproduced by linking them together and exchanging genetic memories and the necessary material to have children, we've retained parts of those functions.”

“You should have asked me before the procedure.” I comment, trying to sound reproachful but likely failing.

“I know, I'm sorry.” She agrees, lowering her ovaloid head in shame. “I should tell you that I am involuntarily diffusing sexual pheromones right now, I apologize if my attention is unwanted.”

“I, I think I need time to process this.” I mutter, hiding my breast with my hand. “This is. I don't.” I cut myself off, unable to find the right way to put it. “I can't deal with this now. And I'm committed to, to someone else.” I finally get the words out.

“Hasn't she betrayed you enough!?” Celyz exclaims, expressing her anger and exasperation. She takes a deep breath. “I'm only offering some relief. I'm not asking you to bind yourself to me, I know that I must seem... ugly to your eyes.”

“You aren't. You're smart, beautiful, and graceful. I really think so but this is just too much right now.” I tell her, trying to pull away. Too many confusing questions swirling in my head.

“I understand.” Celyz says, contrite.

She allows me to slip through her tendrils. I hurriedly escape, retrieving a modicum of emotional balance. At the end of the tunnel, I find the room I arrived in yesterday. Fenyz is there and she acknowledges my presence with a short wave, she is consulting a ledger. I don't recognize the painted numbers but the lines and columns are things that I saw in Cecil's notebook.

Celyz passes by but engages in another tunnel. She comes back soon after, carrying several bowls of mushrooms with gruel mixed in as a sauce and a stool. I am grateful for the kindness but remain awkwardly quiet.

I take a seat and devour the meal, doing to best to ignore the fact that I can tell that her attention is on me. Fenyz turns to face either of us in turn, rapidly switching her focus. It doesn't last very long as she soon gets back to her task.

Once I finish eating, I tell them about the map in my dagger's sheath on my belt and detail what actions I've taken from the moment I entered Meria. I then give them the outline the plan we've put together to eliminate enough of Nobility to force them to surrender or negotiate.

“Who do you want to take out, specifically?” Fenyz asks.

“Duke Meria and Countess Lance, along with whoever is present within the castle at the time of the attack. Cecil advised against going after Commander Morgan as he is unlikely to be found outside their headquarters, but we think that we could eliminate or capture the entire leadership from a section of the wall which would give us the chance to convince them to lay down their weapons.” I answer.

“How do you plan to direct our soldiers towards these targets? I find it unlikely that you could approach them all and get close enough to mark them with tracking pheromones.” Fenyz comments.

Celyz remains silent, I glance at her but find myself unable to face her. This is... weird, odd. I can't help but wonder, besides I could use a shoulder to rest on. But I told my Lady that I belong to her.

“Jessica?” Fenyz calls for my attention.

“Sorry, what was the question?” I ask, looking away.

“How do you plan to lead the Rykz you're asking us to put under your care? There is a limit to how complex the orders you give them can be.”

“I thought to split them into squads and provide them with clothes containing the target's scent since, well...” I explain, blushing again because I've been slightly aroused for a little while now and I know they can both tell with their keen sense of smell.

“Scouts would be able to track using that method and guide warriors.” Fenyz nods. “However, the orders cannot be too complicated or multilayered, otherwise, they may lock themselves into impossible situations, unable to improvise and read the intent behind their mission. For example, they may keep trying to capture all those who carry the smell of their designated target and fail to switch to assassinating them before they lose too many of their numbers to accomplish the task.”

“We can simply kill them all then.” I reply in a hard voice filled with resentment.

“There will likely be hatchlings carrying the smell, Jessica.” Celyz speaks up in moderation.

“What other choice is there?” I question squinting my eyes in a half-glare.

“It's quite irrelevant, the drones will not be able to remember complex orders for an extended period of time, anyway.” Fenyz shakes her head. “It would take a day to bring them to these barges and a few more to get to the city, disembark, and separate them into attack groups.”

“I could go and personally...” Celyz starts but Fenyz slams a tendril on the table.

“You, will, not.” She utters firmly.

“It's not a good idea, Celyz, you would be hunted down if anyone caught a glance of you and there wouldn't be any escape.” I concur adamantly.

I am surprised by the surge of protectiveness towards her. She hid so much and even tried to manipulate my decisions on occasion. Still, I can't find it in myself to resent her after witnessing how worried she was about her sister, Cetyz.

“What if we seal your pheromones in a glass vial, like the Templars did?” I suddenly ask in a flash of brilliance.

“We use scouts to carry orders.” Fenyz comments. “But they only travel for a few hours at the most.”

“We would need to outline simple concise orders in case they deteriorate and lose coherence over time.” Celyz says. “I think this could do the trick. You have all day to test this idea, Fenyz, get started now.” She adds.

Fenyz nods and departs, leaving us alone. I shift on my stool, wondering how to interact with her after her proposal. At least it's a distraction from the part I played in Father's... I pass my hand over my eyes, trying to shake my grim feelings. I feel a tendril touch my left hand. I give Celyz a thin grateful smile.