Everything tasted delicious. After hundreds of miles walking, constantly assailed by mosquitos, swarmed by gnats, eating little more than oats and stray scavenged fruit, Eris found herself seated at a table, a plate before her, and she ate as if she had never eaten before.
They were near the mountains now. By next week they would be ascending ever uphill, back into thick forests before traversing far across the range, and, eventually, back down into the untamed Voreios wilds. It was not a leg of their journey she anticipated with excitement.
But for now they found rest. They stopped at the last wayhouse for travelers they were likely to find for many months to come: the House of the Silver Helm, a farm turned tavern turned inn turned fortress, expanded room-by-room and storey-by-storey over the course of decades. Now a wall extended around its exterior and a sickly looking man waved a spear at all who entered.
Eris buried herself in meat. It was expensive. She didn’t care. Eris loved flesh; if she had her way she would be an obligate carnivore, with an exception for wine. This was her first meal of beef since leaving Korakos—and it tasted different. She did not know if it was because she was always starved of late, if she was simply longing for a comfort meal, or if this was some affliction caused by the child—the latter seemed most likely. If so, she accounted it the first positive change.
No food had ever been so delicious.
For all her life Eris had watched her figure carefully. She was temperate in consumption. She finished meals while still hungry. But now she was fat despite temperance, so she gorged herself. If she could not indulge her desires of the flesh with Rook, she could fulfill her impulses in other ways. She spent a fortune on food that night.
Those thoughts did not sound much like her. But the food was too good to stop.
It stormed outside in the dark and they were stuck together at the table. Robur and Aletheia watched Eris with some concern.
“We only have three hundred drachmae left,” Robur said.
Eris stopped to glare at him. He was interrupting an ecstatic ritual. She made eye contact as she slowly finished chewing, then swallowed, and then finally replied, “You saw the speed at which the bugbears were dispatched.”
“Yes, but—”
“We will do the same again, should our funds demand it.”
“Eris likes nice things,” Aletheia said. Then she added, “She’s a duchess.”
“I have been systematically starved while on our travels,” Eris said. “It is a miracle I am still alive. This is the first opportunity I have found to restore my vigor since we left Korakos.”
“You’ve been eating half my food every day,” Aletheia said.
This was true. Aletheia offered most of the fruit she scavenged to Eris. Eris, who did not like fruit, had been so starved that she ate it anyway. She tried to defend herself: “I—am not merely eating for myself.”
“I know,” Aletheia said. Not-combative.
“You have seen—how quickly it grows.” Again she nodded—in the three weeks since their encounter with the bugbears, her size had swelled significantly. “I am a large woman and Rook was—a very large man—therefore—”
“You don’t need to defend yourself. I understand,” Aletheia said. “I agree. You should eat what you want.”
They both glanced at Robur. He shrugged.
----------------------------------------
Later Robur spoke to the House’s patron to negotiate payment for three rooms, or at least two—Eris was willing to share with Aletheia in an emergency. But as was a startlingly regular occurrence, he returned empty-handed, without any keys.
“He wishes to speak with you,” he said to Eris, and he gestured back to the patron himself.
He was a tall man with a dark mustache. He wore plain clothes, soaked with the rain, and he stared at Eris from the entrance to the kitchen, leaned against the wall in a manner no good could come from.
“Why?” Eris asked.
“He didn’t say.”
“He might recognize you,” Aletheia said.
They were under their disguises now, but no disguise could hide her pregnancy. That was as good as it was bad—Khelidon did not know of the child when they departed. With any luck his agents, or any agents of the Seekers, would not be looking for a pregnant woman of Eris’ description.
“There is but one method to learn,” Eris said. She was curious, and so she stood and walked to him. On her way across the room she caught the eye of another man in a cloak, watching her from a stool. She ignored him for the time being.
The patron relaxed as Eris came closer. Nodding. Leaving the wall. “Madam,” he said. “Is that your husband at that table?” A gesture toward Robur.
Eris folded her arms. “No.”
“I see. And I don’t suppose the father of…” he gestured vaguely at her abdomen, “…is anywhere here about?”
She glared at him through a long silence. “The father is dead.”
The patron hesitated at this. “Then you’re a widow?”
She did not let her glare up, but she did reply simply, “Yes.”
“Good. That’s good. Not to hear about your husband, you have my condolences, only that—”
“What? What could there possibly be to justify such interrogation?”
He shifted. “You know. There’s no sin worse in the eyes of the Lioness than to beget a cub without a pride. Ain’t ride for a lady to travel without her husband, in…your state. We see a lot of women in the run up here, fleeing from all sorts of problems, and I don’t want any part of that business.”
Motherhood had not tempered her that much. Eris was incensed. To be moralized at by a believer in such fairytales—she could have done terrible things to this man. She felt as though he deserved that and worse now. She loathed him for daring to speak to her this way. But instead she clenched her fists and replied, “I am a practitioner of the Cult. What does your Lioness say of widows?”
“Says they’re to be cared for at all costs by their tribe.”
“Well. Thus you see, my ‘tribe’ takes good care of me.”
“Who are they to you, if I can ask?”
“The girl is my sister. The boy is my physician.”
“Physician?”
“This matter is none of your business.”
He nodded slowly. “All right. I’d just like to know what brings you through these parts. I ask the same of everyone—I won’t kick you out in the rain, not even if the worst was true.”
A normal woman carrying her dead husband’s child was not likely to respond with hostility. To have found herself in this desolate place she would have some sad story to tell. She would be grateful for the chance to tell it. Eris knew all this, and she could have lied. But she felt too iced over for even feigned cordiality.
When she failed to respond in any haste, he shifted in discomfort. “I gather it’s not a story you want to tell,” he said at length.
“I did not offer it,” Eris said. “Know that we were forced from our home shortly after my husband’s death. We do not intend to stay here past tonight. Now may we have our rooms?”
The man gave a sad frown, but again he nodded. “Three rooms, was it?” He fetched them off a rack. “Take it, then.”
“How much?”
“On me. You’ve spent plenty here already. Just sleep well tonight, madam.”
Eris glared at him. But in time her look thawed into a smile, and she took the keys and turned back to her companions. Over the years she had received many things from men for free: meals, board, clothes, and more or less anything that could be bartered over, for when a man saw her, he felt immediately that he owed her something in exchange for the privilege of feasting his eyes. It was terribly unfair, but beauty had infinite advantages. Now, between that and her affliction, perhaps such gifts of kindness would become only more common.
Aether knew she did not deserve it. But she sat down happily at the table once again.
“Have you seen the man in the corner?” Robur asked. “He has been watching us closely since we came in.”
“He has a sword. I think he’s an adventurer,” Aletheia whispered.
Eris was disinterested. “He has been watching me.”
“Could he be a knight? Or a Seeker?”
“We are under glamor. He would not recognize me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Perhaps Aletheia, one day, you will grow used to men staring at you. ‘Tis not unusual. Sometimes they even call rude things. If you are wise, you will learn to enjoy it, for attention is to be savored.”
Aletheia frowned. “You really think he just…?”
“Yes.”
“But you’re—I mean, I know what I said, but do men—” She looked to Robur, who seemed to have no idea what she was implying.
“There are men willing to lay with fat women.” Eris shrugged. “But you are right. There is some possibility he is an enemy. Stay alert.”
Thus her eating resumed.
----------------------------------------
“I think I will retire to bed,” Robur said. “I wish to practice Hydropneumonic Purification where I won’t be seen. It is a very fascinating spell, I’m happy to finally know it myself.”
Eris was ready to enter a coma, but she couldn’t stop until there was no food left in her final course. As ever she craved solitude.
“Go with him,” she said. “I will be done presently.”
“No,” Aletheia said. She glanced toward the man, still sitting, still watching them. “I’ll stay with you.”
“We have said nothing to each other in half an hour. You should go to bed.”
“If we aren’t talking, why do you want me gone?”
“Because you are staring at me and ‘tis disturbing.” Eris shook her head. “Fine. But I hope you realize we do have separate rooms.”
Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.
The girl did in fact look disappointed at this—she probably would have slept at Eris’ side like a hound—but nodded. So Robur left, and by the time the storm picked up and never-ceasing thunder clashed outside, Eris had finally finished.
She wanted to keep going. But she couldn’t. It was an impossibility. So at last she stood, and she and Aletheia headed upstairs.
The cloaked man intercepted them at the first step.
Aletheia jumped to action, ready to incinerate him, but as he came close he pulled down his hood, and his sword wasn’t with him, and both women recoiled when they noticed the length of his ears.
He was not a man. He was an elf, and he was six inches taller than Rook.
His hair was long and brown, tied behind his head, and his features were the epitome of masculinity. Broad shoulders. Wide forearms. A triangular shape. His jawline was perfectly square and Eris could only imagine what he might look like beneath his tunic—she had been in desperate longing for the company of a man for months…
Across his lips there formed a disarming smile.
“Ladies,” he said. His accent was Senerian. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
They both bit their lips and shook their heads. Only Eris managed, “No.” Now she could sense his Essence—it had been concealed, hidden tightly away while he hid his true nature. Now doubt he saw through her disguise.
“Your secret is safe with me,” he said quietly. “I know Arcane Semblance when I see it—but I also know adventurers when I see them. I thought I should introduce myself.” He bowed. “My name is Elraz.”
“I am—” Eris started, but hesitated. She didn’t know what to tell this elf. “Is there—something you require?”
“To tell the truth, I wished to speak to you alone,” he said.
“Leave me,” Eris commanded to Aletheia.
“No,” she said.
“Leave me!”
“No! I won’t—you don’t know him!”
“I can defend myself.”
“The girl is wise to be suspicious,” Elraz said. He motioned toward Eris’ gut. “No doubt your story is an exciting one. A seat?”
Eris followed him back to the table she had just left, and they sat across from each other. “Speak your mind,” she said.
He nodded. “You are adventurers, are you not?”
“We are…when circumstances allow it. But ‘tis not the easiest profession for one in my current state.”
“Yet still—three magicians. You are all three manaseared, yes? I thought so when you entered. You might be just what I’ve been waiting for.”
“Waiting for?” Aletheia asked.
He leaned in. Speaking conspiratorially. “There’s a tomb not far from this wayhouse,” he explained. “I’m seeking to liberate its riches. But my previous companions routed when we broke through its entrance. I need the assistance of those such as yourselves to complete the expedition.”
“You tell us this freely,” Eris said.
He nodded. “An equal stake in the treasure. It should be a vast fortune, I have no qualm splitting it four ways. All I ask is any enchanted weapons go to me.”
“We’re not looking for work,” Aletheia said. “We’re on the road. In a hurry.”
“It would be no more than two days’ detour.”
“Why can’t you find someone else?”
“Old Kingdom burial grounds, enchanted protectors, curses, living skeletons, zombies—I would like the assistance of magicians.”
“Eris is pregnant.”
He shrugged and looked to her. “I noticed.”
“…that is no problem,” Eris said. Her mind was on other things. She was interested in Old Kingdom burial grounds, but not nearly so interested in them as she was this elf. Rook was the most handsome man she had ever met in her life; this creature made him seem like a boy.
And though he kept himself composed, as elves always did, he looked at her similarly.
“What do you say, then?” he asked. Their eyes met.
“We can ask our friend tomorrow,” Aletheia said.
Eris bit her lip. If she was not in her current state…but it had been worse than ever the recent weeks. She lusted for Rook like she had at sixteen, yet now with no hope of fulfilling her fantasies. Now, more than ever, she needed release.
Now the elf repositioned himself. “I overheard you speaking with Olger. You say you’re a widow?”
“That was a lie. But—close to the truth.”
“The child’s father…?”
“Dead.”
He nodded. “Interest in adventure is not the only reason I approached you—Eris, was it? For you are the most striking human woman I have ever laid eyes on.”
Aletheia glanced between them. “She’s pregnant,” she said again.
“I had hoped the girl might be absent for this, but—I mean what I say. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since you entered. I’ve walked Esenia for centuries and never seen one such as you, with child or not, and I shouldn’t wish to pass up an opportunity for introduction.”
“Yes,” Eris said. “No doubt you have studied the Old Kingdom extensively in your time?” He nodded and she continued, “Perhaps we could—exchange notes. I am also a scholar of the Regizars.”
“That would be lovely.”
“We can’t stay here, Eris!”
“‘Tis no matter. We can exchange notes tonight. In my room, perhaps?”
“Or mine,” Elraz said.
Eris jumped to her feet. “Yes. There is no time to waste.”
“Eris!” Aletheia cried again. “You don’t know him!”
They leered at each other. “I believe I know him more than well enough,” she said, and with that they both rushed up the stairs to her room. Aletheia was left pouting in the tavern alone.
----------------------------------------
Somewhere deep in the recesses of her mind Eris thought she might be nervous to show a body unfamiliar to even herself to a stranger. In fact she felt no such nervousness, or embarrassment, or trepidation. She felt as beautiful as she ever had with Rook, and she was so desperate that night for a man that the intense surreality and awkwardness of what she was doing did not really occur to her.
Elraz tore her clothes off. She tore Elraz’s clothes off. He was sculpted in perfection. She knew it was a trick of mana, that his physique was false and that his muscles were not real, but she did not care. She buried her face in his chest and his neck and then, at last, his mouth, and while she usually preferred to be in charge, she let this statue of an elf ravish her.
Elves were perfect partners. Beyond beauty, they carried no diseases; they could not conceive children with humans (not that this mattered then); and where his skin touched Eris’, she tingled to feel his Essence, buzzing with ecstatic mana, burning in pleasure. It was the pleasure she needed. A mindless distraction. Passion, release. A way to forget so much horror. The pure physical satisfaction was overwhelming.
But her mind was less satisfied. As they finished and satisfaction came she could think only of Rook. Lust receded and she was left wondering how she had ever been possessed to do this thing with this strange elf—not even human. And when she remembered the child…
But it took only a look over at Elraz to remind her why. Child or no, Eris was a woman, and she had needs. She was happy she finally found some way to sate them again.
----------------------------------------
She straddled him in the early morning. Lust came like the tides. He smirked up at her, and she pinned him to the straw bed, their lips brushing together.
“Are you certain you’re mortal?” he whispered.
“‘Tis a temporary affliction,” she whispered back.
When she pulled away he was smiling. “I tried my best to be friendly with the girl last night, but you were always the one I had my eyes on. I sensed your soul the moment I saw you. You know many spells. Your Essence burns like the sun. You are powerful.”
“As are you.”
“That should be expected. A human—especially one so young—and so beautiful…”
She giggled. “We make for Voreios. But your expedition…perhaps we could find time.”
He traced her breasts with a hand. She shuddered. “Good company in adventurers is hard to find. Need we be parted so soon?”
Eris was not certain how she thought about that. She frowned slightly, even as pleasure overcame her. Could he be a new companion? A new friend? A new lover? She hoped so, yet she wasn’t sure. Her body desperately wanted him for all eternity.
“Time will tell, hm?” she said.
He relaxed. “We can do great things together, Eris. Tonight was just a taste. The beginning.”
She nodded cautiously. “Perhaps.”
“Your male friend—he will have to go, of course.”
“Robur?” She frowned at him.
“Yes. He’s weak. I watched him defer to you—a woman—and I don’t believe he’s to be trusted in peril. I demand strength, like you have, from my companions.”
“…I see.”
“The girl is more interesting, but she isn’t obedient. That could be strength—but I dislike children. I doubt she’s worth a share. We’ll have to leave them both behind before we venture to the Tomb of Nar-Seraz. In truth the expedition is ideal for two, not four.”
Now Eris was hesitant. All the physical beauty of this man was washing away. Her lust withered and dried on the vine. Minutes ago he had been the most beautiful being on all the Earth. Now…
“My companions are—important to me,” Eris said.
“You can have new company now, my darling. We can do great things together.” Now he reached up and put a hand on her belly. “Now the child…it must be dealt with.”
“What?” Eris cocked her head.
“The pregnancy is a small mar on your beauty. But a woman like you cannot be a mother. You are destined for far greater things. Together—we can do much. You’ve had these thoughts yourself, I know you have. Don’t pretend otherwise.”
She smiled at him. Leaning in closer. Thinking nothing wrong, he continued,
“A consequence of mortality. An accidental conception. You’ve been burdened with it these past months; I can remove it with a simple spell. You and I are at no risk of creating another, and then we will be free together.”
He reached his lips up to kiss her again. She was still smiling. She leaned down until their faces met, and she put her hands on his perfect pectoral muscles, pushing him back down to the bed, and for a moment they kept their heads together. She savored the kiss, because she did not know when she would have another from such a man. When she would sleep with another elf. When she would feel such a delightful tingling against her lips again, and taste such delicious masculinity.
Then she cast Disintegrate.
It started at her right hand. She swelled the spell around her palm and pressed downward. The elf did not notice at first, until she was pushing toward his heart and feeling his skin turn to dust around her fingers. When at last he realized what was happening he screamed; a spell formed in his left hand, a flame, and he tried frantically to bring it to her, but Eris had not been so enamored with this elf that she was struck totally stupid. She had placed her gauntlet on the stand beside the bed for emergencies, and now she grabbed it with her left hand and brought it to his arm. Where the enchanted bronze band hit his skin his magic was dispelled.
He screamed in pain. Disintegration engulfed his torso. He melted beneath her. His face contorted in fear and agony as he stared up at her, but her smile never faded. He tried to claw at her with fire at his fingertips, but she tapped his Essence from him to fuel her own magic—their bodies were still intertwined, it was easy—and before long her spell spread to his neck. His screams continued, until at once they stopped, and his mouth was left open, his features twisting, his eyes yelling, while no sound escaped his lips.
Then there was nothing left.
----------------------------------------
She cleaned herself in a wash basin with a towel. She was very calm. Her heart had pounded last night in excitement, in anticipation for her encounter with this elf, yet now it did nothing more than usual. All she was left with was to wonder why she had reacted as she had, on such an impulse. Hadn’t he had her exactly? Wouldn’t she have betrayed her companions to be with an elf like him two years ago? Didn’t she herself want to be rid of this child mere weeks ago?
Well. Her mind had changed. Now she enjoyed her new appearance. She liked to feel the child move. She was happy to feel his presence and be reminded of Rook. And if she decided to be rid of him, and she would when he was given to Aletheia, it would be her decision. An elven stranger had no say in the matter. The child was hers, as were her companions; she saw them now as her possessions. She would not give them up at another’s behest.
It had been much too long since her last cold-blooded murder anyway. She found it reinvigorating, and having been so sexually satisfied last night, she left the room in an excellent mood.
Aletheia waited for her beyond the door.
She frowned.
“Where is he?” she asked.
Eris raised an eyebrow. “Who?”
“The elf—Elraz. Where did he go? I heard him in there with you.”
“You are mistaken.”
“No I’m not! Where—” She peeked inside. “Where is he?”
“He departed during the night.”
“But what about his adventure?”
Eris shrugged. “I suppose he thought we were not so excellent a fit for this expedition after all.”
Aletheia’s frown deepened. She trailed Eris downstairs. “Did you mantis him?”
“The female mantis kills her mate after she has been impregnated. I am already pregnant.” But she smiled.
“You did! You—what did he do? What happened?”
Eris turned suddenly and grabbed Aletheia by the wrist. “He suggested we eliminate you and Robur and my child in order to better profit from his adventure. I did not take this lightly.”
The girl stared into Eris’ eyes. She showed wide-eyed concern on her face, but it softened as the seconds passed. Eventually she nodded. “Did he tell you where this tomb was?”
“I found some notes in his things, but no. I doubt we shall find it now. He did have some money, however.”
“Ok. So you…you didn’t actually—right?”
Eris decided to be straightforward, for a change. “We did. ‘Twas enjoyable. And?”
“But the baby.”
“The baby will be fine. He does not enjoy it when his mother is in a poor mood. Rook and I were together many times after his conception; it made no difference then.”
Again Aletheia nodded. They continued to the tavern. “…what was it like?” she said after a long pause.
“Is this what girls discuss?”
“He was pretty.”
“I do not think we are so friendly with each other yet that we can have such conversations.”
“Why not? Are you embarrassed?”
“My purpose in life is not to gossip with you about men.”
“But it’s fun.”
“You are a child.”
“I’m not!”
Robur was not yet awake, so they sat at a table to wait for him. “Yet you are a virgin, yes?”
She opened her mouth like a fish. “I’m fourteen.”
“Then ‘twould be me telling you, and you giving little in return.”
Aletheia sighed. “I just thought it would be something to talk about. But forget it.”
They spent several minutes waiting in silence. Then a thought occurred to Eris. She had never spoken to another woman about such a topic. She had talked to Rook, about what made beauty; yet Aletheia was an anomaly. So she turned to her.
“You found Rook handsome, yes?”
The girl was confused at this question. She shrugged, but eventually admitted, “Yes.”
“And Elraz? You used the word—‘pretty?’”
“I guess?”
“I would say virile, masculine, tall—but very well. What of—Jason?”
She winced, as if to say ‘ew’ with her eyes. “He was mean to me.”
“That is not what I am asking.”
“I—I don’t know. He’s normal, I guess. I thought he looked okay dressed up in court.”
Eris was disturbed by even this tepid response. “Jason is revolting. And likely syphilitic.” Aletheia laughed, but it hadn’t been a joke. “Robur?”
“No,” she said quickly but quietly.
“Good,” Eris said.
And so in this manner they gossiped, going down the line of every man they had ever traveled with or encountered notably on the road, and even Eris had to admit it was an amusing distraction. She preferred only the most masculine men and ranked them thusly at the top; Aletheia was more generous to some and less to others. Eris mentioned Pyraz favorable, while Aletheia scoffed. Aletheia suggested the diminutive Kirkos was ‘cute,’ while Eris was appalled.
Both agreed Rook was without compare.
When Robur finally descended they gathered their things and departed, restocked and ready for the road ahead. Eris had rarely felt so well before a journey. It had been a surprisingly good day so far. But as they considered the mountains on the horizon, as they gazed at peaks shrouded by clouds and covered in thick yellowing green in the late Fall, they realized it would be a terrible journey to come.
The air was very cold.