“LYKHA! LYKHA SAVE ME! PLEASE! PLEEEEASE! HELP! I NEED YOU! LYKHA!”

Coco’s screams are agonizing to listen to, and one could be forgiven for believing the young teen’s skin is being peeled off by the way she’s screaming. She’s fighting with every ounce of her strength, battling enemies and traitors as Lykha seems to be the only one able to help.

The young fairy watches nervously. She doesn’t like the way Coco is screaming. If she was crying out for help so desperately, Lykha would pray someone would do something -anything- to make whatever it is stop.

But then, the agonizing torture Coco is going through is something she doesn’t understand.

And what she doesn’t understand can very easily kill her.

Maerin, the more mature fairy, lectures as she scrubs Coco with a brush, “You had your chance, Coco! We warned you over and over again!”

“YOU BE BUT A BACK-STICKIN’ TRAITA! LET ME GO! I’LL KILL YOU!”

Coco wrenches her entire body, more likely to uncover her private areas that are currently covered by underwear than her captor is.

Maerin continues, “You thought we wouldn’t notice you stepping out of the shower completely dry?” The mature fairy keeps scrubbing methodically. She doesn’t have the weight to be harmful to the teen, so it’s just a matter of cleaning the girl’s body.

Coco suddenly changes tactics, looking over her shoulder, “Mury! Mury, Love! ‘Bando! My darling! Please! Please stop! I-I swear! I’ll-... I’ll wash myself this time! I promise! Please! I’m-I’m drowning! I can’t! Please!”

Murtoa of Lakia, the unorthodox knight and professional monster slayer, says nothing. He simply continues to stay in his seated position on the ground, soaking wet in his under-armor jacket and pants, as he holds Coco restrained so that Maerin can work. He’s the only one strong enough to hold Coco without sharp nails and scales to harm her with inadvertently.

Maerin continues the lecture, “Three times, Coco. Three times we let you ‘do it yourself’, and we called you out all three times. Here we are.”

“Th-This time’s different! Please believe me, Mury!”

Murtoa says coldly, “You can change my mind AFTER this time.”

Coco roars at him, “I’LL NEVER BATHE AGAIN BECAUSE OF YOU TRAITAS!” She squirms desperately, but Murtoa patiently holds her.

Maerin repeats, “And here we are.”

Lykha nervously asks, “C-Can’t… Shouldn’t you be more gentle?”

Maerin replies sternly, “She already had a rash. I’m sure you know how bad they can get. This isn’t the desert.”

Lykha fidgets nervously, replying, “I… I know…”

Coco spits out angrily, “YE GOOBS BE SPITLICK CRAZY! LET ME GO!”

Maerin growls, “This would go faster if you stopped struggling Coco!” The mature fairy scrubs one of Coco’s horns, and the teen squirms even more, crying out. Maerin adds sourly, “Speaking of going faster, it’d be going faster if you he-...” She halts when she looks at Lykha, who is in the middle of praying, seemingly.

“Kind and Noble Spirit Schieranna, I offer you this contract…”

“Hey! Don’t you skip out on me!” snarls Maerin. “Get over here and help!”

Lykha says without opening her eyes, “I can’t hear you, Maerin. I’m in the spirit realm.”

“YOU LIAR!”

Mury says curtly, “Let her. Just focus on finishing on Coco.”

Coco retorts, “Noooo, stay distracted, Bae! Give in to your anger! Attack! Fight Lykha!”

Mury states bluntly, “I’m not getting tired.”

Coco snaps at Lykha next, “Lykha! Get over here and kill ‘em! We’ll dash’ways togetha!”

Lykha ignores the conversation, continuing, “Schieranna, I offer you a contract to possess my body for one day, ending this time tomorrow, but you must stay within visual and hearing range of Murtoa of Lakia or Gyrryth the Spellshot or Maerin the Fairy Chemist or Coco the Techromancer, and you must protect them from danger with the best of your abilities and not harm them or flee from them. If you accept these conditions, then I will grant you this contract.”

Lykha finds herself in the void, surrounded by the six spirits of the elements of magic. Schieranna, the spirit of air and wind magic, is swirling and bouncing giddily, clearly waiting for the exact moment when she can burst out ‘Yes’.

And, as soon as Lykha finishes speaking, Schieranna giddily exclaims, “Yes! Yes! Yes! I agree! I agree!”

Rui-Buri, the glowing spirit of fire, whines, “Awww! How come she gets to go first?”

Ulterryn replies diplomatically in the rocksteady way only the land spirit could, “In fairness, Niolsynnys was first.”

Lykha replies gently, “I mean no disrespect to anyone. The only way I could think to be fair was to draw names, and I drew Schieranna first.”

Schieranna hovers close to Lykha, ‘whispering’ in her ear, “You don’t have to play nice with this lot. We know who’s your favorite. Who else grants you the wind upon which you can fly?”

Merzianne, the spirit of water, retorts dryly and in a slightly lecturing tone, “We are magic, not forces of nature.”

Schieranna puffs herself up, retorting, “I’ll show YOU a force of nature!”

Lykha defuses instantly by saying, “You agreed to my terms, so I agree. For one whole day and with the agreed upon restrictions, my body is yours to borrow, Schieranna.”

The wind spirit instantly deflates to her normal posture, and she giddily hugs Lykha. “You won’t regret it! I’ll just have a little fun! Anything you want me to tell the sexy one for you?”

Lykha blushes, squeaking, “Wh-NO! He’s-... I… You’re not allowed to tease me while I’m not there!”

The spirits all laugh together, and Schieranna teases deviously, “That wasn’t one of the rules…” She snickers warmly, passing through the bond to assume control of Lykha’s body.

*********************************************

Schieranna gasps as she opens the eyes of the body she’s in -her body for the time being-. The air fills her lungs and tickles her tongue with tastes she’d all but forgotten. The musty, heady aroma of leaves covering the floor of a forest, the earthy taste of mud, sprinkled with sand, and the heavy, wet air all crowd her senses.

She exclaims as she hugs her cheeks, feeling her own warmth, “It’s disgusting! I LOVE IT!” She swirls in a rapid circle, feeling actual air and wind kiss her cheeks and tousle her hair. “OOOOH! I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT! IT’S DELICIOUS!” She hugs herself, feeling the warm embrace as she hums excitedly and savors the feelings. She darts around smaller trees and brush nearby, and she blasts magic at leaves on the ground to cast soil and leaves into her face. She savors the emboldened scents and the cool kisses of moisture.

Maerin calls out, “Hey! Stop wasting Lykha’s magic, and come help me!”

Schieranna flies to Maerin, tackling the older fairy as she hugs her, saying, “OOOO! Maerin, you’re so soft! You’re softer than I could’ve ever imagined!”

Maerin growls as she tries to shove Schieranna away, “Great. So let’s get Coco clean, and you can hug her too.”

“I ain’ no critterscritch for ye goobs to tickle on! S-Spirit, please, Spirit, let me go. I’ll let you have MY body next!”

“Sorry! I can’t right now! I’m having too much fun!”

The spirit creates a swirling gust, spinning herself up into the air as she exclaims, “WEEEEE!”

“STOP WASTING MAGIC!” calls Maerin.

Mury replies calmly to her, “She’s a spirit. They channel their own magic through Lykha’s body.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because Niolsynnys cast instant death on a paladin after Lykha had expended hers.”

Maerin looks down for a moment. She growls, “It’d be nice if someone else would help.”

Coco retorts, “It be nice if ye TRAITAS stop TORCHIN’ ME!”

Gyrryth, the Drakyk spellshot, has been spraying the trunkwinder down with a hose during the whole event, and he corrects Coco, “Torturing, Fiery One.”

Coco roars, “STANDIN’ STIFF AS A BRICK MAKES YOU JUS’ AS GUILTY GYRRYTH!”

Schieranna suddenly zips up in front of Mury’s helmet, specifically, placing her over top of Coco’s hair, “Mury! Mury Mury Mury! Mury! What is this?” She holds up a small beetle, which is like holding a large cat for her. The beetle idly sways its legs, trying to get free.

Maerin frowns, growling, “Seriously?”

Murtoa replies plainly, “It’s a beetle.”

“Bee-tull… Neat!” She zips away again, reappearing after only a moment, “Mury! Mury Mury M-” “What is it?” asks the warrior.

“What’s this?” She presents a small amphibian larva that squirms more noticeably. Murtoa replies a little skeptically, “It’s a tadpole.”

“It’s so cute!” She hugs it for a moment, darting away once more.

Once again, though, the spirit possessing Lykha’s body appears before him, “Mury! Mury-”

“What are you doing!?” barks Maerin. “No one believes you’re that isolated, even if the spirits are imprisoned!”

Schieranna pouts for a moment, and Murtoa is silent. When he does speak, he asks, “What is it?”

She looks at him with a little surprise, and she presents another creature less energetically and without a word. Murtoa replies, “Woodworm. ‘Peekworms’ as Coco calls them. They’re a delicacy in the forest.”

Schieranna smiles softly. She takes a bite of the worm, grimacing a little. Coco cries out, “Ah! AHHH! Why!?”

Schieranna looks at her, and then the horrified expression of Maerin. Murtoa explains when she looks at him, “It’s more normal to cook them, but they’re safe uncooked. Just not as good.”

The spirit swallows hard, breathing for a moment after. Maerin continues working on Coco’s hair, and Schieranna hovers down to Maerin’s level, observing for a moment.

Murtoa says calmly, “You can keep playing. We’ll be done in a few more minutes.”

Coco snarls, “A few minutes? Bah! Ye goobs spittin’ tha’ an hour gone!”

Maerin murmurs, “I suspected you could tell time normally. And it was seven minutes.”

Coco proudly shouts, “Ha! Time? Me Da’ ma’e time-turnas! Masta’o’time!”

“Your father controlled time?”

“Aye!”

Murtoa replies to Maerin, “Watchmaker.”

“Ah! Fair enough.”

Schieranna murmurs, “Mury?”

He looks at her, and she fidgets with her hands. “Am I… a pest?”

“When you’re trying to be, you can be. Is there a reason you were trying to be?”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

She blushes and looks away. “I’ve… It’s been a long time… since I had friends other than my sisters… I don’t know what friends do. A-And… I… I wanted to say your name.”

“I’m flattered, but as you can tell, it’s nothing special.”

She scoffs. “You don’t get it, do you? We, the spirits in a prison beyond the void, know of your name and your deeds.”

“You know stories. Stories can be exaggerated.”

Maerin scoffs this time, retorting, “Yeah, exaggerated down to realistic, in your case, Murmur.”

“‘Murmur,’” repeats Schieranna affectionately. “A nickname?”

Murtoa nods. “Technically, ‘Mury’ is, too.”

Schieranna nods. “Do you… mind if I call you ‘Murmur’? It… It sounds cute.”

Maerin freezes for a moment. She says sourly, “You’re a bold one.”

Schieranna glances at her, but then looks at Murtoa. The human warrior replies sincerely, “I don’t care what you call me. Just know that in battle, too many names can be too difficult to keep track of.”

Schieranna nods, “I understand.” She bows even as she’s hovering, “Thank you for being kind to me, Murmur.”

Murtoa replies, “No need for that.”

Coco accuses as Maerin finishes her hair and begins scrubbing her cheeks, “Ye be tryin’ to butter him up an’ rib-tick Tricksie!”

Schieranna panics, “No! Please, believe me! I just… I’m so excited… I don’t know… how to act…”

“I believe you,” replies Murtoa. “Lykha chose to let you enjoy yourself. Enjoy yourself.”

Satisfied that the teen techromancer is clean, Maerin says, “There. A heck of a lot better than you were, Coco. And, even all things considered, not so bad, ey?”

Coco glares fiendishly at the fairy as her wet hair sticks to her face and head. Murtoa states, “Gyrryth.”

Gyrryth turns, “Ready for rinse, Sir Murtoa?”

Mury nods, and the lizardman aims the hose at all of them, which Maerin dodges out of the way with “Hey!”

Coco whines, “NO! NOOOO! PLEASE!”

Fortunately, the final rinse doesn’t take very long, and at the end, Murtoa works on drying Coco with a towel as she sits idly in his arms, fuming but lacking the energy or will to fight. Schieranna is hovering near them, dripping wet as well, but with a contented smile on her face. “I haven’t felt water for centuries…” She sniffles. “I’ve missed this… all of it…”

The others are respectfully quiet, and even Coco’s expression softens in sympathy. Schieranna looks at Gyrryth as if to thank him, but she pauses. Her expression turns a little sour, and she turns back to the others. She suddenly perks up as Murtoa is helping Coco to her feet. The teen is shivering and hugging her body. The spirit snaps her fingers, and a warm gust forms around the two. Coco cries, clutching her underwear as she shouts, “MURY!”

Murtoa glances at Schieranna, but he doesn’t tell her to stop, so Schieranna finishes. It only takes a few moments, and though the result is a tangled mess of hair, the teen is almost completely dry. Schieranna asks proudly, “How’s that? Nice and dry again, right?”

Coco stares at her with a deadened expression. “Take me back to the sand.”

Murtoa straightens Coco’s hair out a little with his gloved hand, and he puts her helmet on her head. He states bluntly, “Next time, wash yourself thoroughly. That rash turns bad very quickly.”

Coco grumbles, snatching the fresh towel from Gyrryth and making her way back inside the trunk winder.

“Murmur?” The human warrior looks at Schieranna.

She asks, “C-... Can I see the sun?”

He replies gently, “The forest is too thick for the sun to reach the forest floor, and we’re too far from the edge now.”

“Wh-... What if… I go up?”

Murtoa looks up. He asks, “Will you come back?”

She blushes. “I have to take someone with me. Lykha restricted me to being close to any one of you four.”

Murtoa nods. “Maerin, go with her please.”

“Wh-!? Why me!?”

“You can fly if something happens.”

Schieranna insists, “I won’t let anything happen. I promise.”

Maerin flutters up in front of Mury, poking his helmet’s spider-cracked visor, “You owe me big time for all of this, Murmur!”

He nods, “I never forget a debt.”

She rocks her jaw back and forth, silently grumbling internally, no doubt. She turns to Schieranna, growling, “Let’s go.”

“Wait.” This time, it’s Gyrryth, and he’s scribbling something down briefly. “I’ve already added a custom tracking glyph to the trunk winder, Mature One. Please, take this as precaution.” The note he just wrote is obviously a copy of the glyph, and Maerin takes it, folding it up and shoving it into her small shoulder-bag.

Schieranna grumbles without looking at him, “We don’t need a tracking glyph.”

Gyrryth replies sincerely, “I humbly accept the Spirit’s wisdom and ability. I wish no disrespect. A second option it is, and nothing more.”

Schieranna grunts a disgusted “Hmph!” and she takes Maerin’s hand, guiding the fairy to a relatively clear spot. Without warning, she creates an updraft that carries the two -Maerin screaming- upwards at high speed.

Gyrryth murmurs, “I do not believe the Spirit likes me.”

“How often have you called upon them for amplification?”

“It shames me to admit, knowing what I know now, that the number is high.”

Murtoa nods. “I’ve never used any magic. Yet they speak of me as a legend.”

Gyrryth chuckles. “I suspect you are aware, Sir Murtoa…”

“I know. My point is…” He looks directly at Gyrryth. “I haven’t done anything for them yet.”

Gyrryth cocks his head curiously, but Murtoa says as he walks back towards the trunk winder, “I’m going to go shower myself now. Thanks for spraying down the vehicle.”

Gyrryth nods, “Of course. Do mind the Fiery One, Sir Murtoa. She is near her tools again.”

Mury chuckles, “Right…”

Still, Gyrryth watches him a moment longer. Murtoa is a man of many secrets, but only because no one asks. No one asks because they know not what he knows.

The lizardman spellshot simply finds it curious how Murtoa worded what he said.

***************************************

The spirit and the fairy burst through the upper level of the trees into the open sky, and Schieranna clutches her head, screaming in both pain and glee. She laughs excitedly, especially when she realizes her ears popping means she can’t hear her own laughs very well.

Maerin catches her breath as she holds onto Schieranna. Both can fly, though it’s more exhausting on Maerin to stay airborne. And, now the air is thinner and cooler than where they just were.

Schieranna spins in a full circle, taking the sights in once more. “DO YOU SEE THIS!?”

“YEAH! THAT’S WHY I LOOK LIKE THIS!” Maerin’s face is terrified and nervous, though mostly because of the speed of their ascent. “You trying to rupture our ears!?”

“We’ll be fine! Look! Look!” Schieranna eagerly points at the sun, slowly rising above the distant horizon of tree tops. “We just missed sunrise! Aww!”

Maerin replies as she takes a sip from her flask, “Darn…”

Schieranna whirls, suddenly zipping in close to the mature fairy. “Tell me what Lykha likes.”

“What?”

“Tell me what she likes! I HAVE to convince her to let me do this again. This is the best day EVER!”

“We haven’t done anything.”

“You don’t understand!...” The spirit softens, murmuring, “You couldn’t understand…”

Maerin pauses. She takes another sip to delay talking a moment longer. She murmurs softly as she caps her flask afterwards, “Treat her good, yeah? Lykha’s a kind girl. She deserves the best… even if it gets her in trouble.”

Schieranna nods, sniffling as tears find her eyes. “Will you… help me?”

“No. But… I’ll be nicer…”

Schieranna sniffles again and nods. “I… could get her home. I can sense magic that way…” The spirit points, and she adds, “I think you’re headed that way, right? W-Would… Would she like that?”

Maerin pauses. A selfish part of her certainly doesn’t want the journey to end that way. They’ve been through a lot together, and Schieranna would be flying instantly there. Maerin wouldn’t even get the chance to say goodbye to Lykha.

But then, as Mury said, Lykha has wanted to go home almost since the moment she left her village -when she was promptly kidnapped and taken deep into the desert, apparently-. Maerin just said Lykha deserves the best, and that’s true.

Which is why…

“I think… that should be up to Lykha. Though, selfishly, I don’t want her to go, just yet…” Maerin takes a heavier drink next.

Schieranna softens. “I’ll ask her when it’s close to time to give her body back.” The spirit takes a deep breath and sighs contentedly. “The air’s much more clear up here, huh?”

Maerin nods in agreement. The mature fairy asks a little seriously, though, “Are you being sincere? I mean all of you.”

Surprised, Schieranna looks at the fairy. “Wh-What do you mean?”

“I mean, Niolsynnys tried to steal Lykha’s body, and you’ve all had a long time to scheme…”

Schieranna looks down. “For hundreds of years, we’ve tried to convince spellcasters to trade with us… and steal their bodies. You can guess how that’s gone so far… We’ve gotten closest with fairies… They tend to be more naive. But, no sooner do we have their bodies do they get kidnapped, wish expended, and killed, and we’re right back where we were. Your friends, Mury… You’re the first ones -Lykha especially- who’ve even cared what we have to say.” The tears make her eyes glisten again, but she doesn’t quite start crying yet.

Schieranna takes a breath, and she says sincerely, “I know you don’t believe me completely, and you are probably right not to. But, Lykha is WILLINGLY letting us see and feel and taste the real world again. I can’t speak for all of my sisters, but I CERTAINLY will not be the one to spoil it. Th-That’s why I want to know if… there’s any way to butter her up, so to speak. So… maybe… it doesn’t have to be a one time thing…”

Maerin sighs. “I doubt it will be daily after she gets through all six of you. We’d never get to have Lykha around.”

Schieranna smiles softly. “She’s lucky to have such caring friends…”

Maerin blushes, asking suddenly, “Wait, she can’t hear us, can she?”

Schieranna averts her eyes, and Maerin asks sternly, “Can she?”

Schieranna gasps excitedly, pointing. “Look!”

Maerin glares at her, but glances in the direction she’s pointing. A shape has left the trees, similar to them. It appears to be a bird, moderately sized and far enough away from them.

The mature fairy turns back to Schieranna to confront her, pointing at her with the intent to lecture or scold.

However, her instincts crawl. She’s not the sharpest, smartest, wisest, or any other ‘-est’ -unless ‘drunkest of the party’ matters-, but Maerin was an adventurer for a brief time when she was an alchemist. And now, she is once again travelling with a party who experiences danger regularly.

She hates the feeling, but she knows better than to ignore it. It could be nothing, and that will be ideal. But, it’s better to be wrong and know her instinct was paranoid than to ignore her instincts and they have been right.

Ignorance does not prevent death.

Maerin looks more deliberately, and the bird is already double the size it was, headed for them.

Birds of prey have been known to snack on fairies that leave the villages.

This is no bird of prey.

Maerin grabs Schieranna’s wrist, screaming, “We need to go!”

“It’s so cute!”

“Yeah! Miles away!” Maerin pulls Schieranna downwards, and the avian creature continues to get larger. It doesn’t appear to have been travelling intentionally towards them, but Maerin is watching it closely even as she flies downward with Schieranna. It turns its compound eyes, and the chill in Maerin’s spine gets colder. It’s aware of their presence.

“Take us down! Now!”

“It’s just like the beetle!”

“It’s a damn colossus!”

The creature has a head like a dragonfly, the fuzz of a bee, and the wings of a reptile, it would seem. Maerin is no expert, but she suspects chitin-plate wings like her own or a true butterfly or dragonfly would be too weak at the size to sustain flight for the creature, especially through the trees.

And, the way it can fold its wings like an airfoil lets it torpedo through the air, rapidly gaining distance on them.

“NOW! NOW NOW NOW!”

“Hi-yah!” Schieranna casts a powerful jet of wind that slams the colossus, and it actually proves strong enough to knock the colossus off of its flight. The spirit taunts, “Who’s a force of nature now, Merzianne!?”

Maerin murmurs, “Wow…” She shakes her head clear when the colossus recovers its flight, and Schieranna taunts, “Ohhhh!? You want some more! I got the kiss of the wind for ya! HAAAA!” This time, another strong column of wind swirls the beast, but it goes differently this time. Just as Schieranna begins to taunt it, Maerin tosses a quick-blast smoke bomb that she made, creating a cloud that engulfs them as she tackles Schieranna downwards. The colossus swoops overhead, and the two are swirled by the air currents as its massive pincher feet sweep through the smoke.

Maerin shouts again as the creature quickly circles around, “Take us down, now!”

Schieranna nods fervently, and she creates another air current to rush them back down to the ground. Maerin screams on the current, hugging tightly to Schieranna. The spirit manages to soften their speed to an easy landing, and Maerin drops to her feet, for once, truly thankful to have solid ground under her feet.

Well, quicksand too, since she’s too light to disturb the surface, so she doesn’t panic when she smells the telltale salty smell under her feet. It’s a large pool of it by what she can tell. She catches her breath, but Schieranna cries out, “They left us! I-I don’t see them! They left us!”

Maerin noticed their friends are nowhere nearby either, but she isn’t panicked yet. Not only is this exact scenario why Gyrryth gave her the tracking glyph, but they were in a panic on the way back down. It’s only expected Schieranna would inadvertently get them lost. Maerin would do the same, just as anyone else.

That said, it is an inconvenience.

And, compounding that inconvenience is the shrill roar and breaking branches descending towards them. Maerin scrambles to her feet. “Cover! Get to cover!” The two dart under a large set of roots of a nearby tree, taking cover in a small nook deep into the recesses under the roots, which should be more than enough protection for the two.

The colossus swoops down towards the ground, catching itself on one of the trunks as it inspects the area with its compound eyes, clicking and searching with twitchy, insect-like movements. It’s about the size of the smaller silveryourd the party defeated, though it has chitinous armor plating instead of the vibrant scales of the silveryourd.

It searches the area for a few minutes, but takes off soon after and flies off through the forest.

Maerin sighs. “I hope that thing doesn’t find the others…”

“I don’t remember that one…” murmurs Schieranna.

“Remember?” asks Maerin, confused

Schieranna seems to ignore the question flying out into the open to verify the colossus kept going. She pivots, murmuring, “After all that talk… They left.”

Maerin sighs, taking a drink before she-...

Schieranna looks around, feeling the magic around her. Thankfully, there’s not a lot of stray magic swirling around the world; the occasional artifact, the rare magic-infused creature, and people. People are the most obvious conduits of magic in the world, which makes them easy to sense.

Unfortunately, the only strong source of magic with Murtoa is the Drakyk.

Schieranna can feel his aura in the distance, and they aren’t too far away. When I catch up to them, I’m going to have a few choice words for that greedy, selfish,...

“I’m rather confident they’re-...” Schieranna looks down to where Maerin was taking a drink.

She finds only a flask.

*********