Mason nearly stumbled to his knees, disoriented as the world went black, then filled with dull green and blue light.
[Title earned: Masochist. First player in the world to enter two dungeons alone. +2 to Vitality.]
He grunted at the floating text, then stepped forward with his sword and dagger firmly grasped. All he could hear was the sound of running water, and the chirping of birds and insects.
“You will not need those in this place,” said the now familiar feminine voice from somewhere ahead. “You are welcome here.”
Mason blinked and blinked as he stepped forward, trying to adjust to the dim light and dislocation. The air here was warm and humid, but not stifling. Slowly his eyes adjusted and he saw a dark, watery cavern, not so very different than the gnoll lair he’d seen before. This one, too, had a huge pond or lake, but didn’t smell of rot. In fact it smelled of fresh water and thick, healthy trees, fresh life like the middle of spring. Huge fronds floated on top of the pond, and as Mason stared at the beauty of it all, he realized there was a woman lying atop one of them, smiling at him.
Her long, brown hair dangled in the water. She wore a scant dress that looked like leaves, which had almost camouflaged her, and snaked around her body, covering only bits and pieces. One large, impossibly round and pert breast was exposed, though slightly covered by her hair. Mason felt strange as he gazed upon her. His gut fluttered, his face and neck flushed with heat.
“Oh sister!” The olive-skinned, almost Greek-looking goddess rose up from her lounging position to reveal a body made of curves. “He’s so young, and handsome.” She leapt into the water, then rose up and held back her wet hair, smile wide as she came forward. Her nearly glowing green eyes locked directly onto Mason’s.
He couldn’t help but stare. It occurred to him she might be insane with all her sister talk, but then he saw another woman nearly hidden in the darkest corner. She was far more lithe and pale than her sister, with short raven hair and wearing what looked like skin-tight armor made from bark. She carried a javelin as casually as an Olympic athlete, and inspected Mason without a hint of a smile in her equally green eyes.
Stolen novel; please report.
“What are you?” Mason said, his tongue feeling thick and slow.
“I told you,” the curvy sister came forward with dramatically swaying hips. “We are daughters of Gaia.”
“Yes,” Mason swallowed and tried to force the mists from his brain. “But did the system make you? Are you…alive? Some kind of complex artificial intelligence?”
The girl squinted in confusion, and Mason sighed.
“Do you find us beautiful?” she said, coming ever closer. Her scent hit Mason’s enhanced senses like a slap. It was somehow familiar. No, it was exact—chocolate cookies, made by his stepmother, with a hint of cinnamon. She’d made them for the first time when they formally adopted him and showed him the papers. He was officially a Nimitz, officially home, officially Blake’s real brother. He’d eaten the cookies with milk, and for a moment everything in the world had been perfect. He breathed and felt wonderful, his concerns fading like old memories.
“Yes I find you beautiful,” he said, because of course he did. Though he had a lot of questions before they carried on with that line of thought. Or really any line of thought.
“Oh, sister,” the first nymph turned to the other and put her hands to her face. “Please. We must have his seed. Please? Such youth and vigor and power. It will last us weeks.”
The raven haired sister sighed, then came forward and dropped her spear. She still had no trace of a smile, but Mason could see a hunger in her eyes.
“Very well,” she said. “In this you are correct.”
Mason felt a kind of concern, but very far away and unimportant—like the consequences of your favorite meal, or cleaning up after a party. Just one of those small, unimportant details of life you accepted to enjoy the pleasures.
The first nymph hopped slightly and clapped like a giddy girl, jiggling in all the right ways. She came forward, until less than an arm’s length separated her from Mason. She reached for him, touching his face with soft hands, unbuttoning his shirt without a moment of hesitation. He could see no reason in the world to stop her.
“Oh my,” the nymph’s hands trembled as they disrobed him, caressing his skin as her eyes found his many new scars. Water touched her eyes as she traced her hands along them, and she stepped forward and put her lips to Mason’s exposed chest, kissing the scars one by one. “Our brave ranger. Such hurts you have endured. But not in this place. Here we will soothe you, ease your pain, and renew you.”
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