Contemplation is one of the only true hobbies immortals have. Mortals live into their nineties and beyond as technology and medicine allows, but they eventually pass and take their baggage with them. Immortals do not have that luxury, as their memories weigh on them heavily as time marches ever forward. The Matriarch is an incredibly optimistic woman on many things, but even she is not immune to being haunted by past decisions. She never considered herself an idiot, but most certainly ignorant on many things. “Experience is the best teacher of all”, she says to herself. A method of dealing with the weight of the past. To combat her creeping, bad memories she typically replaces them with the many good ones she has.

Another one of those ‘good ones’ approached. The young woman Aya seemed to follow her around the Academy like a lost puppy, which she found cute. Being longed for from someone who she assumed had an agreeable orientation and preference, she quite enjoyed as it had been some time. This was indeed an assumption, mostly based on past experience and how Aya looked at her. There are many theories about a ‘gaydar’ (body language, etc), but it was always in the eyes for The Matriarch. Just the way people looked at others, a wistful hopefulness corrupted by decades of religious oppression. Mercifully, that was less of a problem in this particular timeline considering the world had many other problems to deal with in short order.

They hadn’t spoken much beyond basic introductions, as a variety of announcements and new-enrollee meetings kept interrupting them. The Matriarch kept thinking about her surname and found the origin amusing. “al-Hareem,” basically translating to “The Harem”. Her first name had origins in the word “amazing” or “wonderful”, and she certainly found that true of the woman’s physical appearance. She found herself daydreaming of the kind of person Aya was, and almost always reprimanded herself for sulking in her office when she could actually approach and speak to her, as adults often do.

This problem solved itself. Always so proactive in so many other issues, romance still terrified her enough to hide in a corner while potential lovers dropped themselves in front of her. Good work, Matriarch, ever the diplomat. Aya dropped by her office, adjusted her narrowed square glasses and sheepishly attempted to knock on the door before The Matriarch piped up with “Come on in, madame.” Aya was not a stealthy woman.

Aya walked into her office in her casuals, a tank top that showed off her aetherial tattoos. This was one of the first times Matriarch got a proper look at them, and she smiled widely under her mask. She knew her expressions would be obscured, but she tried to balance it with being keenly aware of her own eyes, making sure they widen in excitement or narrow in frustration when applicable.

“Please have a seat, Aya. I was hoping you would come by.”

“Oh…? Why so?”

Oh emergency. The Matriarch didn’t quite want to reveal that she had been thinking about her. “Well, a lot of students come by. I rather stand out, so most come to investigate,” and realized that she was going with ego. Real smooth, Matriarch.

Aya didn’t seem to take offense. “Well I’m not really breaking the mold there, I’m afraid. I heard some muttering about you and I was hoping to just hit you up after a class and, y’know, go straight to the source?”

“Of course, dear. I am an open book, have to be. It’s literally in a contract,” Matriarch chuckled.

“Oh! That’s a good starting off point actually. What do you mean contract?”

“Well, a few years ago the President passed a “Full Disclosure” law. It hit the media pretty hard, but as a result almost every agency requires most backroom dealings to be recorded in some fashion. This extends to the Magisters as well, which they agreed to. As these things roll down hill, I more or less have to report everything I do in order to keep my “Criminal Consultant” title.”

“You’re a criminal…?” Aya asks, eyes widening. She hadn’t expected that, as it wasn’t what she had heard in rumors.

“Of a sort. As you probably know, I am deep into the Necromantic arts, supplementing it with blood magic. Both are technically illegal, but the Magister Council utilizes a similar system that local police do. Find a malleable underground mage, give them a good deal of freedom and in turn, they get information. As a result, I typically have to tell them what Gnosis does on a daily basis. Easy enough, I don’t consider us criminals and we don’t indulge in ‘crime’ in the classic sense. Just as we don’t sell drugs, we don’t buy or sell corpses on the black market.”

Aya inquired about Gnosis.

“Gnosis Genealogia, is the name of my organization. Some call it a cult, which is… not wholly inaccurate. I find myself maybe ten percent offended when it is referred to as such, but I am also not an idiot. We share several attributes,” she then dug into her desk to retrieve a small textbook, practically a pamphlet in its own right, detailing Gnosis as an organization. “Here, you can have this.”

Aya took it carefully, cracking it open and giving parts of it a skim, “I assume I shouldn’t be caught with this?”

“Very astute, dear! They might confiscate and return it to me with a stern talking to, but I don’t believe you’d suffer any real consequence. They might mark you down as ‘oh hey, Matriarch is fingering this person as a potential cult member…’”

Aya very nonchalantly says without even making eye contact, still skimming the booklet, “Not the worst fingering in the world, I’m sure.”

The Matriarch became dead silent, completely missing the sexual context of her comment. She blinked several times before Aya made note of the silence and busted out into boisterous laughter. This was infectious, as Matriarch joined her, though her laugh is a more subdued giggle.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean-” Matriarch attempted to save face.

“No, no! It’s fine!” Aya shut the book and slid it into a classy one-strap backpack she had. The Academy wasn’t big on textbooks (they were assigned on arrival and returned before a student leaves the room) so she mostly just had to carry around note-taking essentials. The pack was nicely hidden beneath the collared uniform, making sure everyone looked rather similar.

“Thank you. This was uh, very enlightening. Do I need to make an appointment for…?”

The Matriarch waved a hand dismissively, “Unnecessary. I do have an occasional scheduled meeting so I may or may not have to reject you at certain times but beyond that, my door is open. Many come to me as a safe source of asking about the darker magics. Things that they might get in trouble for asking their normal professors or indeed, acquire a notation on their record as I mentioned before. You are of course, welcome to do the same thing.”

“I’ll do that, Matriarch. Thank you for everything!”

As Aya left, Matriarch made sure to give a brief ogle to her backside which went unnoticed. Sadly, it was mostly obscured by the gaudy coat the academy makes everyone wear. Alas.

Truth be told, in the weeks to follow Aya did not ask many questions about the darker arts. Most of their meetings were incredibly casual in nature, and Aya had far more interest in The Matriarch as a person. Matriarch kept much of her past vague, still warming up to the mortal woman and said so outright.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

One evening in a common room, the duo had what was comparatively a date. This did not go unnoticed by the shuffling young adult masses, but since The Matriarch is who she is, looking as she does, most did not bother her.

“So… is there a face under there?” Aya asked in a half-joke manner. She was genuinely curious.

“There is, but it’s less relevant to who I am. The mask is part of my culture, my religion if you will. It is an extension of my person, like your glasses help with your vision.”

They both shifted on the couch, not a terribly intimate distance away from each other. Aya crossed her legs to better face The Matriarch, while Matriarch herself just shifted to the side, using her left arm to lean against for posture.

“I bet you’re pretty,” the goading and flirtation from Aya became more bold.

Matriarch chortled briefly, “It is true, my features are not mutated or disgusting to look at. Simply scarred.”

“Haven’t you heard? Chicks dig scars.”

They both had a good laugh at this.

“As is the common parlance, yes. It’s not that I am so ashamed of them; they are a mark of my experience after all. Again, the mask is a culture thing.”

“But your people take them off to eat and sleep, right? That book said so.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“It also made no mention of any kind of taboo against asking-”

Before Aya could continue, The Matriarch very smoothly removed her mask and placed it upon a spined shoulder-holster that was designed into her outfit. She kept her hood up, her locks of hair drooping down her forehead without the mask to hold it back. As explained before, her veins were darkened by an incident with dark magic, protruding through her entire face (and indeed, entire body). This fearsome appearance was somewhat lessened by the woman’s warm, content smile. She made a point of making sure the warmth of her smile was apparent to show that she was not offended by the request. Indeed, she would make an immediate joke to diffuse the potential intensity of the situation:

“Aw look, you’ve talked me into it,” she giggled slightly. Her pointed, otherworldly teeth revealed themselves as she spoke.

Aya couldn’t help but grin at the darker woman’s joke but her heart skipped a few beats as she came face to face with a monstrous visage. The Matriarch was right though, Aya noticed that her features were still smooth enough to be pretty. It’s not as if her veins are protruding through the skin entirely, they’re just blackened and visible. Aya had always loved Matriarch’s eyes, but the most striking feature was indeed the teeth.

“While we are trading mutations, you might as well let me inspect those tattoos of yours,” The Matriarch demanded.

Aya complied, having wanted to flirt more but seem compelled to do as her guest demanded. She scooted on the couch a bit closer, and the Matriarch reached over with a gauntleted hand to caress Aya’s right arm, the most visible of tattoos. Or at the very least, the most touchable without getting too inappropriate. Despite that, they were incredibly close now, and the Matriarch was detecting irregular heartbeats within Aya’s chest, courtesy of some passive blood magic that she possessed. Aya was keeping it together to an incredible degree.

“They’re beautiful. And they help you with your magic, yes?”

Aya nodded, still undergoing some stunned silence.

“Are you alright?” Matriarch asked.

“Yes, I just want, uh…”

“Well do tell, dear. Communication is very important to me. Just ask,” at this point the Matriarch had an assumption of Aya’s intention but did not want to overstep.

“Can I touch your face? Like, those vein parts…?”

Matriarch chuckled again, “By all means.”

Matriarch maintained a wide grin as Aya reached over to palm a cheek, using her thumb to caress the darkened veins. They didn’t actually feel any different than basic skin. If anything she was rather soft, but also Aya lacked the magical prowess to detect the darkened remnants of whatever magic burned through her. A question for another day, Aya suspected.

Regardless, Aya thought their friendship had advanced enough. She leaned in for a kiss, to which The Matriarch made no protest. It was cute but incredibly brief, as the sharper teeth made Aya pull back a lot quicker than she originally intended, or daydreamed about.

“Ow- oh!” She laughed, and her expression soured into embarrassment.

“Oh, sorry… I should have…” The Matriarch sighed, still laughing with her but placing a palm on her forehead in equal embarrassment. “Uhm, want to try again?”

“I very much do…” Aya’s heart was about to just pack up and leave her body at this point but she just practically jumped into Matriarch’s face. Now keenly aware of the danger the mutated woman’s teeth pose, she had a better idea of kissing this woman: Maybe don’t invite yourself into the woman’s throat. The kissing remained mostly external, but she employed her tongue to wetten the Matriarch’s lips during. It was strange and maintained no small amount of actual lust behind its intention, but they both enjoyed each other’s taste well enough. Aya tasted like noodles.

As they disengaged, The Matriarch caressed Aya’s cheek. “You’re a very thirsty woman, aren’t you?”

“I just know what I like.”

“That being me. I get it,” they both had a chuckle, remaining in silence for a few seconds as they reveled in each other’s mutual attraction.

There were a few students who gave this whole scenario a stare but quickly returned to their duties when Matriarch shot them a sidelong glare. She was unmasked, but if anything the mask probably helped her look less terrifying.

She continued, “Continuing the theme of communication, my dear. We should probably go on… a real date, perhaps. There’s still a lot I don’t know about you.”

“That will be a short conversation, I think. Retail and video games,” Aya’s face contorted into a bit of a pout. She had different reasons for having not spoken about her past.

“Hey, there’s plenty to talk about there. Don’t doubt yourself.”

Aya remained silent, which Matriarch took note of and continued. “I will tell you about all the things that happened to me, dear. In time, don’t worry. There’s no rush.”

Aya, ever perceptive in her own way, noticed the conversation was drifting away from her intended goal. She was very forthright, “Can we just kiss some more?”

The Matriarch laughed again, and nodded.

So they did.