Frank stared ahead, his mind spinning from the last few hours of chaos. They were running across the countryside following the course adjusted by Heather's bracelet. The pace was a brisk run to cover as much ground as possible, hoping to find what they were looking for. Of course, that came after the war of words that erupted on his shoulders.
Quinny ran beside him for the first few hours of the morning, trying to hold a conversation. She was grateful for his help with the werewolf and kept asking questions about Heather. Some of the questions focused on the figurine and what he planned to do with it. It seemed like she was getting at something but yelling while they ran made it hard. He was the one who suggested she ride on his shoulder so they could talk more easily.
It seemed harmless enough to carry Quinny like he had carried Heather. From there, it was much easier to hold a conversation, and she seemed to enjoy it. He found Quinny's company relaxing and far more predictable than Heathers. She was behaving strangely, showing him bursts of attention then burying herself in books. It was strange to see her staring at him during dinner and the outburst in the stables. They hadn't any time to talk once the battle started, and when it ended, she was unconscious.
That's why it was a terrible surprise when Heather appeared on his other shoulder and started arguing with Quinny. The debate centered on Heather being upset that Quinny was so close to him. She seemed to think that riding on his shoulder was something special to them, and Quinny was stealing it somehow. The argument grew more intense until they had to stop so he could throw them both off. They parted ways with some harsh words, with Heather retreating through the door and the safety of her books. Quinny went back to the palanquin, and he was left in silence to run for the rest of the day, wondering what had just happened.
“Would you like to talk about it?” Blackbast asked from where she reclined on the back of Legeis’s armor.
Frank looked to the seductive cat woman who was once again wearing the barest of black silks. She laid on her side with head propped up on one arm and tail swishing side to side. Those green eyes stared at him with a penetrating gaze that he was sure went right through his armor.
“I don’t understand girls,” he said.
“That much is obvious,” Blackbast replied. “But then that might be your greatest strength with those two.”
Frank wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean, so he dared to ask and wasn't sure the reply made it any clearer. Blackbast was suggesting that he treated them like good friends instead of objects of affection. For both Heather and Quinny, this allowed them to come to know the real Frank and see the heart that beat inside. Both women had, over time, grown to respect and rely on him. For very different reasons, both saw something in him that caught their attention and now saw the other as a threat.
“A threat over what?” Frank asked.
“You,” Blackbast replied. “Did you not notice how fond of you they are?”
Frank shrugged that off without a second thought. He was a ghoul, and his appearance was best described as horrific. If he knew one thing about girls, it was that appearance mattered, and he was repulsive.
“You’re wrong,” he said without a doubt.
“I can assure you that I am not,” Blackbast replied. “You think that you are too ugly to attract a woman as pretty as Heather. You also cannot believe that Quinny might also harbor feelings for you.”
“Are you saying anyone could see past what I am?” he asked.
“What are you?” Blackbast shot back. “You are a man wearing a guise. This skin isn't who you really are, and we both know you could change it. It takes some time for it to sink in but eventually, we all come to the understanding that the skin can be easily changed, but what is inside is forever. Heather has come to realize that you are a good man, and your appearance means nothing. Yes, she would prefer you looked prettier, but that is the way of human nature. We are programmed to seek out physical attributes in some primal need to procreate with the healthiest individuals, but here that means nothing. She is brilliant, and her mind has long since given up the concept of human beauty. The more races she discovers, the more she understands that appearance means nothing. What matters is who you are deep inside, and to Heather, you are her champion.”
“How can anybody want this?” Frank replied. “It wouldn't be fair to her.”
“Will you stop it with that self-loathing,” Blackbast scolded. “I have heard your remarks, and I know you came in here to avoid this sort of thing. This was a place to hide and build an entire dungeon to keep people away while you hid on the lowest level. Deep down, you are running from something you do not believe you have the right to have. Well, too bad for you, because not only does Heather want you, but so does Quinny.”
He sighed and looked away as Blackbast studied him intently. He never knew what to say to women, and he had no idea what they were thinking. Blackbast seemed to sense this and motioned for him to come closer. He came as close as he dared, and she reached out and took away his helmet.
“What are you doing?” he asked, but she put a finger to his lipless mouth.
“Yes, you are horrible looking, but this form is good for you. It has given you the strength and confidence that you lacked in your former life. This has allowed you to carry yourself boldly and show others who you are.”
“And you think that is enough to overcome this?” he asked.
Blackbast leaned forward, and before Frank could react, she planted a kiss. He was sure his gray skin was flushing red as she cradled his cheek and ran a nail along his cheek.
“Why did you do that?” he asked when she pulled away.
“Because you judge yourself too harshly,” Blackbast replied. “You are a good man and a great friend. If Heather was not likely to object violently, I would not hesitate to take you to bed.”
“What!” Frank cried and fell back as he stumbled.
Blackbast laughed and swished her tail seductively. “Poor boy. I am only trying to prove that you are wrong about yourself. Yes, you made this form look ugly, but the women around you have seen through it and approve of what's inside. Now, if you are too afraid of your appearance, put that figurine I gave you to use. Let your outside match your inside, and both women will fight over you as they did earlier.”
“You think I look like that inside?” Frank asked in shock.
“I can tell by your reaction that you find this hard to believe. People didn’t treat you well in the real world, did they?” she asked.
Frank shook his head and admitted that he had been a bit of an outcast. What little attention he got from girls was generally negative and often hurtful. For him, coming to New Eden was a way to escape his life and start anew.
Blackbast asked why he hadn't chosen to play something more attractive. He tried to deflect and say it was because this was what he wanted. She agreed that he embraced his class well but wondered if perhaps this was a way to hide. This way, he wasn't at risk of being rejected as he had been in the real world. As a ghoul, he would be expected to be hidden away in some secret lair, and even if discovered, his appearance would be considered normal. He could play his role and avoid complications, free from ever having to worry about the entanglements of a relationship.
“I just wanted to be happy,” Frank sighed. “But I got lonely and then.”
“Heather showed up,” Blackbast finished for him.
“Yes, she did,” Frank agreed. “But she wants to go home.”
“And what do you want?” Blackbast asked.
“I want her to be happy,” he replied. “I would do anything to help her, even if it means losing her forever.”
“And you wonder why they fall in love with you?” Blackbast laughed.
Frank sighed and looked to the palanquin where Heather and Quinny had retreated. He felt like he should say something, but what could he say? More importantly, who should he choose? In the end, Quinny claimed she was only talking to him and knew who he belonged to, but he was afraid her feelings were hurt.
The thoughts were so complicated, and he had no experience with these issues to guide him. He let the matter go with a resigned sigh and focused on the trip. It was hard to keep his mind clear, especially when he considered that Blackbast just admitted she would sleep with him.
Hours passed as he mulled over the options until Blackbast grew bored of watching him stew. She suggested he talk to Quinny so slowly he fell back until he was beside the palanquin.
“Are you alright?” he asked when he saw her curled up and looking down. Breanne was beside her attempting to offer some comfort.
“Sorry, you had to hear that,” Quinny replied. “I didn't think it was going to upset Heather.”
“She jumped to conclusions,” he said. “I am the one who asked you to ride on my shoulder.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Quinny replied and looked away. “I just hope Heather doesn’t stay angry at me.”
“Why would she stay angry?” Breanne asked. “This was all a misunderstanding. When she cools off, she will come to her senses.”
“Should I go talk to her?” Frank asked as Breanne and Quinny looked at him.
“Yeah,” Quinny replied. “Tell her I’m sorry.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” Breanne said. “This is all happening because some people aren’t being honest with themselves.”
Frank nodded and asked Blackbast to stop so he could climb into the palanquin and use the door. She gave him a moment to climb inside and waited until he was gone.
Frank didn't find Heather or Webster in the magic room, so he used the door to go into the tower. She wasn't in the magic in the room or her bedroom down the hall. He checked the kitchen to find the cookies depleted but no sign of Heather or her spider. A brief memory of her feeding him cake flashed through his mind, but he set it aside and began to search her tower. There were dozens of rooms in the tower alone and many more in the tunnels cut into the mountain. It would take him hours to search them all, but he had a pretty good idea where he would find her.
As he descended the steps to the garden, he saw the portal to Gwendalhall open just as Heather stepped through it. It flashed with light, and she was gone before he could call out, but he had been too surprised to call anyway. Heather had golden hair again, which meant she had taken off the crown.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“I wonder why she took it off? I guess I could go after her,” he said as he approached the portal. He paused at the edge and considered what he looked like. Thanks to Heather and Quinny's encounter in the forest, he knew adventurers were back in the city. He would have to wear his armor to avoid freaking people out and causing problems, but then maybe he had another option.
“I can’t believe I am doing this,” Frank said as he stepped through the portal, his golden hair resting across his shoulders. He was grateful the figurine was wearing clothing because nothing in his lair would fit this form. He was tall for a man but still much shorter than his ghoul form and not nearly as wide. It felt strange to be so weak and, more importantly, to feel alive.
The cave looked as it had the last time they were here, with glowing lights dancing about roots that hung from the cave's ceiling. Heather was nowhere to be seen, so he made his way up the stairs squinting as he stepped into the light. For the first time in years, he felt the warmth of sunlight on his skin and wondered how he had forgotten it.
A quick search of the garden around the white tower of Princess Hannah revealed that it was empty. Heather must have gone into the city, or perhaps the palace, to see Gwen. With a hand to his head, he ruffled his hair and chose the gate to the city. It was a mixed feeling of emotions to walk about so openly, but then he never looked so normal.
With his shirt unlaced and blowing in the wind, he strode into the street and immediately saw players. He tried not to react as he strode past two dryad women who were haggling with a merchant at a potion shop that hadn't been there before.
“So players are buying land and opening stores,” he said as he went by. “Gwen must be pleased.”
He passed a man with a distinctly reptilian appearance who was talking with a short elven woman with purple hair. There was a shop on the corner that sold magic wands and another that specialized in cloaks. The streets were still relatively quiet but hardly empty like they were before.
For an hour, he wandered about, marveling at the changes that came about in their absence. For a moment, he thought of going to the castle to see if Heather was there or to ask Gwen for help, but then he remembered the bookstore.
“I am an idiot,” he groaned and hunted around to get his bearings. It took another hour, but he finally found the plaza, then the street that would take him to where Heather's little shop stood. He paused at the door and took a deep breath before going inside.
Much had changed here as well, and the once barren store now had hundreds of books. An NPC human woman with short brown hair stood behind a counter. She smiled as he came in but didn't move or speak. Frank scanned the store and quickly spotted the blond-haired woman sitting on the floor in the back. She had her legs crossed with a book resting in her lap as if focused on the pages. Webster was beside her, curled into a little ball with his legs tucked beneath him. She stroked his back while turning a page, but the expression on her face said she was still upset.
He walked to where she sat, but she didn't seem to notice. It felt awkward to be here in human form, but maybe it was for the best.
“Did you find something interesting to read?” he asked.
Heather froze, the side of the book falling from her hand. She didn't look up or react for an uncomfortably long time, then slowly turned to see him.
“Frank,” she whispered. “What? What are you doing here?”
He sat down beside her and pulled up his legs. “Well, I wanted to make sure you were ok. You seemed really upset and ran away before I could say anything. You should know I asked Quinny to ride on my shoulder. She wasn’t doing anything but talking to me.”
“Oh,” Heather sighed and closed her book. “I guess I overreacted.”
“Maybe just a little,” Frank said and nudged her. “Why were you so upset?”
Heather looked into his face and reached up to run her fingers down his cheek.
“This face is so handsome,” she said, then pulled away. She looked ashamed for a moment and turned back to the book in her lap. “But that shouldn't matter.”
“What do you mean?” he pressed.
“Frank,” she began before glancing at him and looking away again. “I don’t care what you look like anymore.”
“You don’t?” he asked in surprise.
“I mean, I still wish you looked different, but I have gotten to know you, and I like who you are,” she admitted and shifted her legs. “I have kind of unofficially been treating you like you, and I are a thing.”
“What kind of thing?” he asked.
“The boyfriend and girlfriend kind?” she said questioningly and dared to glance at him again.
Frank felt something he hadn't felt in a long time as a heart began to beat faster. He felt flushed and wondered if maybe he was going to pass out. Heather put a hand over his and squeezed, causing a mixture of feelings that were so alien to him.
“Well, say something,” Heather demanded.”I just admitted that I think of you as my boyfriend.”
“Is that why you’re mad at Quinny?” he asked when nothing else would come to mind.
“Well, yeah,” Heather sighed. “I like riding on your shoulder because I get to be close to you. It’s a special thing we share. I was jealous to see her there, and I just snapped.”
He struggled to think of something meaningful to say, but all he could manage was an apology.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Of course, you didn't know,” Heather said and squeezed his hand. “Because I am so empty and shallow I didn't tell you.”
“You're not empty or shallow,” he protested, but Heather assured him she was.
“I have been treating you poorly just because you don't look like this,” she said and gestured to his current form. “But you're always a sweetheart and have supported me since the day I got here.”
“Well, so long as we're being honest, let's point out that I was desperate to have a friend and that you are very pretty,” he said.
Heather laughed and took a deep breath. “So are you saying you’re kind of shallow too?”
“I have my moments,” Frank replied. “There is nothing wrong with having preferences for partners. Everybody has things they like and don't like, and I can't fault anyone for not liking a horrid ghoul. I knew it was a long shot that you would like me, but I was so desperate to have a friend. I never thought you would stay as long as you did, let alone come to like me.”
“See,” Heather said and threw her head back. “You are such a nice guy! Why didn't girls flock around you in the real world? Don't answer that. I already know.” She sighed and admitted it was because they were like she was. They wouldn't even give him a chance to show what he was like inside.
“Well, you’re right,” he agreed. “But it all worked out in the end. I met you, and together we met the others. Now we're going on adventures that I never dreamed I would do. Sometimes when I am around you, I feel like a hero player.”
“You are a hero player to me,” Heather said and leaned into his side. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner.”
“Well, it isn’t like you have nothing to do but think of me all day,” he laughed as Heather nodded and nestled into his side. “I meant to ask you, what did you do with the crown?”
“It's in the buffer,” she said. “One of the necromancers spells taught me how to put things into the buffer. This way, it's safe, and I can call it back out whenever I need.”
“Don’t you need an item to recall it with?” he asked.
“Turns out that only matters if I store things for long periods. But I can place things inside for a few hours at a time. If I don't recall it before the spell fades, it will reappear right before me,” she replied.
“That’s pretty neat,” he said and looked at the book in her lap. “A guide to dragons?”
“I wanted to know more about their place in the world, and I needed to occupy my mind,” she admitted.
“Because of the fight with Quinny?” he asked.
Heather sighed and shook her head. She went on to explain that she was worried. The answers they got from the woman in the crown seemed to be honest. It explained a lot of things but also created more questions. However, it was too straightforward, and as far as Heather was concerned felt like manipulation.
“What makes you think that?” he asked.
“The dragon we met makes me think that,” Heather replied. “Remember what he said about he the woman in the crown.”
“She betrayed you once before,” Frank remembered, and suddenly it all made sense.
“Right,” Heather said and looked into his eyes. “I know Blackbast cast detect lies, but you told me that level matters when people use things like that. From what I have learned reading the guide to magic, all it would take was a higher-level obscure truth spell to cheat her detection. I don't know if wearing the crown is safe; I might be putting us all at risk. I dwell on it night and day, worried that I am somehow being manipulated like a puppet.”
“Umtha doesn’t seem to think so,” he said. “She is happy you’re wearing the crown all the time.”
“That's part of what I am trying to understand,” she commented and ran a hand over the book. “The woman in the crown didn't seem happy to know we were following Umtha's plan. She said the egg was something the goblins were working on, and Blackbast made it sound like she thought it would be a waste of time. The voice was more interested that I look for the hand instead.”
“She also wanted you to avoid getting anywhere near Kevin,” Frank reminded.
“Yes, she did indicate that Kevin was a danger to me. Maybe that means he is exactly who I need to see,” Heather wondered out loud.
“No!” Frank shouted, then paused to regain his composure. “Sorry, but if there is one thing I know, it's that going near Kevin isn't going to end well for you or any of us.”
“You’re probably right,” Heather agreed. “I need a lot more power before I take a risk like that, but something tells me that he will come looking for me eventually.” She looked away and then smiled as if amused. “So, are we officially boyfriend and girlfriend now?”
“I guess,” he said and reached up to scratch his head. He had no idea how to respond to a question like that, and being this close made him nervous. She glanced away as if embarrassed, then flinched before turning to look at him closely.
“Hey, there is something I want to know,” she said as she looked over his face. “Does your figurine turn into a copy of you like the bird statue does?”
Frank nodded and fished the statue out of his pocket. He held it up for Heather to see, and she took it from his hands to marvel at it.
“So it's a ghoul figurine now,” she whispered and turned it over to look at the base. “What a funny command word. I wonder why they made it karrack.”
Frank was hurled to the side in a flash of light as Heather transformed into a hulking ghoul. He looked up with a stunned expression as she lifted the massive arms and started to scream.
“Heather, relax!” he cried as he scrabbled across the floor and picked up the figurine. “Just take this and say karrack again.”
There was a second flash of light, and Frank felt decidedly strange. He looked at his delicate hands with perfectly manicured nails and then lower to see a yellow dress. The figurine toppled from his hand as he struggled to accept that he was a woman. In a panic, he felt around his face and ended up clutching his chest to squeeze.
“What do you think you're doing?” Heather yelled in a masculine voice. “Hands off! That's my body!”
“Sorry!” Frank cried and let go as he flushed. He quickly looked around for the figurine to see Heather fumbling to pick it up with her long nails.
“Take this and say Karrack!” she commanded only to change in a flash of light to the handsome human form.
“Oh, this is ridiculous!” she roared as the door to the shop burst open, and four players ran in.
“We heard screaming like the roars of a foul creature,” a human dressed in fine armor announced as he surveyed the room.
“Aye, it sounded like the howls of grave wolves,” said a humanoid-looking man in leather armor but a face covered in fur.
“I am sure it came from this shop,” a slender elven woman with silver hair said. She looked at Frank and Heather with disdain then continued to look around. “But I see no sign of trouble.”
“We all heard it,” a lizard man in spiked armor added as he stepped closer. “But all I see is the girl and her slave.”
“Slave?” Frank said in Heather's voice before looking to the man beside him. Despite the switch caused by the figurine, the collar remained firmly around Heather's neck. Heather clutched the figurine and had a look on her face like she was going to tear him limb from limb. He would have to change into the ghoul so Heather could reclaim her body, but they didn't dare do that while four players watched.
“You there,” the human warrior called. “What was the source of that scream?”
Frank tried to play it cool and stood up before clearing his throat. “Umm, that was me,” he said, unable to believe how his voice sounded. “I was startled by the shop's pet when he jumped out.” To help confirm his story, he pointed to Webster, who was now standing in the corner equally as startled.
“What kind of shop keeps a spider as a pet?” the elven woman asked as she made a face of disgust.
“I'm more interested in what kind of woman keeps a man as a pet,” the human warrior said with a funny smile on his face. The two men laughed, but the elf rolled her eyes and called him a pig. He paid her no attention and strode into the shop, eyes focused on Frank the entire time.
“I don't recall ever seeing you before,” he said as he sauntered up to Frank. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lawrel Silver Heart, the Blade Dancer, and master of the lute.”
Frank looked at him with a blank stare as Heather stood behind him and grabbed his arm.
“She’s not interested!” she shouted in a masculine voice.
The man made a sour face and waved his hand to brush Heather off. “It seems your little pet doesn't know his place.”
“Pet who?” Frank said and turned to Heather to see murder in her eyes. “Oh, me!” he choked and turned back. “Right, I’m not interested.”
“She's a funny one,” the elven woman said. “You sure know how to pick em.”
“Quiet Yancine,” the man groaned. “The poor dear is just overcome with emotion at meeting me.” He stepped to Frank's side, and before anyone could move, Frank felt a swat at his rear. “Don't worry, my dear. I understand how you feel.”
A primal growl from behind caused the man to turn and meet Heather's gaze. He stepped away with hands raised as Heather threatened to use him for spider food.
“Now, let's not cause any trouble,” he said with a smile. “We were investigating a scream after all.”
“That doesn’t give you permission to touch me! I mean her!” Heather snarled as her hands curled into fists.
“It looks like the fella is the one in charge,” the furry warrior pointed out.
“You four get out of my store!” Heather yelled and pointed to the door.
The four hero players looked confused a moment then started laughing.
“The slave is the one who owns the store!” the lizard man laughed.
“Maybe the girl likes dominant men,” the woman added.
“I can show her a little domination,” the human warrior suggested and leaned closer to Frank with a smile. “Your little pet can help if you’re into that sort of thing.”
“What? No!” Frank protested with a hand raised.
“Common Lawrel,” the woman insisted. “She isn't that good-looking anyway.”
Frank knew it was already too late for them and wasn't surprised when the air filled with bees. They shouted and roared in pain as Heather yelled in a masculine voice for them to get out of her store. What he wasn't prepared for was the cloud of bees to suddenly vanish in a puff of blue smoke, revealing a tall, wizened man in green and white robes. He looked on the scene with eyes that said he was assessing the situation as the four adventurers rolled on the floor.
“Battles within the city are forbidden,” the man said and turned his gaze on Frank and Heather. “You two will come with me at once.”
“Were busy,” Heather protested as she pressed the figurine into Frank’s hand.
The man let out a low groan as if the whole situation was an annoyance. The four would-be hero's bowed in supplication, but the man pointed to the door and ordered them out. With that, six men in heavy armor and wearing tunics marked by the cities colors appeared in the street. The four rushed away, leaving Frank and Heather to face him alone.
“I am afraid you have no choice in the matter. The Queen has requested you be brought to her at once,” he said as his brow furrowed. “Now, come along quietly. We don't want there to be trouble.”