Remicra stood rigidly, her scales a vibrant crimson from head to toe. The pain from the iron nail she'd driven into her foot throbbed with each heartbeat, sending waves of red across her entire figure.
She watched as Overseer Princess approached with the runic rod, Dave walking behind her in pure white robes.
"Well, well, well… Dragoness," the Overseer sneered, tapping the rod on Remicra's collar. "It seems your past has finally caught up with you."
Remicra fake-sputtered, staring at Dave, opening her eyes wide.
"You..." she growled, baring her teeth. "You look just like the man that executed my kin at night! Moch Einhelm. But you can’t be him. I… I killed that human!”
“Ah that,” Dave idly examined his fingernails. “Lord Moch was my late uncle.”
Remicra’s snout snapped to her Overseer. “This man is related to the bastard Knight I murdered when I was eleven. You… you can’t transfer me to him! What if he…”
“Oh, I’m counting on it,” Princess laughed.
“You’re counting on the fact that this human asshat will murder me as soon as you leave?!” Remicra snarled slamming her foot down to make more red dance over her body.
“If you die, I get paid. If you live, I get paid,” Princess shrugged. “Either way, it’s a win for me."
Remicra choked.
"Don't worry, he's contractually obligated to return you to me in good condition after he's done playing with you," the Overseer added with a malicious grin of sharp teeth.
“I’ll effin’ kill you, you Abyss-born twat!” Remicra growled, kicking the ground again to send pain lashing across her body.
“Oh ho ho, such scary promises,” the Overseer rolled her eyes.
She handed the control bracelet to Dave, who promptly snapped it onto his wrist. “Here, it’s been set to sub-control the building’s ward and the living asset bound to it. I suggest you keep her in the lighthouse at night. She tends to slither out from other… less reinforced places.”
Dave nodded.
“W-what’s your plan for me, human?!” Remicra spun towards Dave.
“I’ll be working you to near-death of course,” Dave replied, spinning the pain dial up slightly. Remicra howled, clawing at her collar. “Until you beg and weep at my feet, dragon. I’ll break you again and again and heal you a thousand times over… Inhuman scum like you need to know your place in the world. Your tears and blood will satisfy my desire for retribution and serve to amplify my healing skills.”
“You… you… Overseer! Don’t leave me with him! Please!” Remicra made a horrified expression, slamming her foot into the ground again.
“That’s what I like to see. Have fun with her,” Princess winked. “I’ll be seeing you in a couple of weeks, Remicra. Maybe spending some time in the retinue of a… genuine Illatius Lord will teach you how lovely I am in comparison.”
Dave nodded with a smile.
“I've had my gate mage clear out the storage room of any supplies,” Princess commented at him. “If you want her to repair something, buy your own metal.”
“I won't be having her do any metalwork,” Dave shrugged. “No worries there.”
“No, you can’t! Please! Come back… you, bitch! You can’t give me to this man! You…” Remicra howled with a look of utter desperation.
A portal flashed into existence behind the Overseer and she stepped into it, sending another smug glance at Remicra.
As the portal winked out of existence, Remicra's scales slowly shifted from their vibrant crimson to a deep, somber blue and violet. She exhaled slowly, her shoulders sagging as the tension drained from her body. Sliding down onto a mossy rock beside the lighthouse, she lifted her right leg and pried the large iron nail from her foot with her claws.
Dave’s Kitlix jumped from his shoulder and put a paw onto the bleeding cut. Warmth spread across Remicra’s leg, the pain vanishing away.
“Guys, get to it,” Dave ordered.
Remicra flinched, expecting a horrid twist or some kind of betrayal.
“Let's heal her up good,” the ginger man added with a soft smile.
Three more green Kitlix joined Healy, jumping from his Healer friends and running across her entire body. The aches and pains she had grown accustomed to over years of hard labor suddenly began to fade away.
A particularly persistent twinge in her left shoulder, a remnant from an old injury inflicted by the Overseer, suddenly vanished. Remicra rolled her shoulder experimentally, marveling at the smooth, pain-free motion. The constant dull ache in her lower back, a result of countless hours hunched over the forge, melted away like snow under a warm sun.
The fresh wound on her toe, self-inflicted for the sake of their ruse, closed up without a trace. Remicra wiggled her toes and fingers, feeling freedom of movement she hadn't experienced in years.
Warmth danced across her entire body wherever the Kitlix moved, fixing something that she wasn’t even fully aware of. The dragoness closed her eyes, relaxing. For the first time since her entire village of Starisle was decimated, she let out a content, happy purr.
Her entire body was probably gold and pink now and she didn’t give a damn.
"Abyss Eternal," she murmured. "I'd forgotten what it felt like to not be in constant pain."
“You were pretty convincing there. I almost believed you myself for a second,” Dave commented sitting on the mossy rock next to her. “Great idea with the nail.”
Remicra opened her eyes ever so slightly, looking the man over.
She found herself wondering, not for the first time, about the strange twists of fate that had brought him into her life. He was an anomaly, this Dave. A human who treated her with respect, who saw past her scales and claws to the person beneath. It was... Incredibly unsettling, in a way. She'd grown accustomed to the cruelty of humans, had built her defenses high and strong. But Dave seemed to slip past those barriers with infuriating ease.
As the Kitlix continued their healing work, Remicra felt a warmth spreading through her that had nothing to do with their magic. It was a feeling she'd almost forgotten - gratitude, perhaps even the stirrings of trust.
“Thanks,” she said. “How did you convince the Overseer that you’re a Highborn Lord?”
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“Just shook hands with Cedez,” Dave explained. “For the next twenty two hours I’ve a ‘Casanova’ affliction, which allows me to amplify my Charisma in brief intervals of a few seconds waaaay above my level.”
“That easy, huh?” Remicra asked.
“Eh,” Dave shrugged. “Another Shadow princess or two is probably going to try to murder me today.”
She squinted at him.
"It's fine," he shrugged. "I've dealt with them and their Champions before."
“I see. So… what now? You gonna work me to death in a dungeon or what?” The dragoness asked.
“Now I’ll ask Murdoc to park Bessie at the Void dungeon’s entrance, occasionally blasting it with thunder,” the extra-infuriating fox appeared in Remicra’s view. “The healers can slowly collect Void beast corpses, while you two live here at the lighthouse. I didn’t specify any contract length. Maybe we can push this pretend dungeoneering to a month or two, we’ll see.”
“Two months of… being free,” Remicra repeated, her heartbeat accelerating.
“Not unless l figure out how to extend it forever,” Dave offered.
Remicra’s head snapped from the fox to the human. He couldn’t be serious about this, could he? No, she couldn’t allow herself such hope. Lord Burgundy or Overseer Princess would eventually figure out that they were being screwed with and then there would be pain and she would be alone again, forced to make armor for idiots, forced to…
“Hang on. Does this mean that the cafe is closed and that I’m not getting tips for two months?” the owlkin girl asked, interrupting Remicra’s self-flagellation.
“Ehhhh,” Cedez tapped her chin. “Can’t please everyone. Lemme think…”
“What if we opened a cafe here, on this meadow?” Dave suggested. “This area is pretty close to Adventurers Gate.”
“What?” Remicra sputtered at the sudden absurd suggestion.
“The contract Cedez drafted stipulates that I’m leasing the smithy along with you as a… living asset,” Dave explained. “I wouldn’t want to mess with Hyrei or the other cafe maids’ daily income. The cafe is their livelihood. Clearing the Whispering Depths and getting the tree out and selling it will likely take a long time.”
"You can't be serious," Remicra said, her tail swishing nervously behind her. "This place is barely fit for smithing, let alone serving food!”
“It’s not as good as being right outside the gate, but I think that we can make it work,” Hyrei looked over the meadow. “The chasm is pretty scenic.”
“I know, right?” Dave nodded. “We could call it the Lighthouse maid cafe!”
The man grinned, that infuriatingly charming smile that made Remicra want to both punch him and... well, she wasn't quite sure what else.
"Why not? We've got space, we've got a great view," he gestured towards the rolling hills beyond the lighthouse, "and we've got you."
"Me?” Remicra hissed. “I’m not a freaking maid!”
"It could work," Cedez chimed in, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. "Think about it, Remy. 'The Forged Brew' - Shandria's first smithy-cafe hybrid!"
“You’re both… complete nutcases, you know that, right?” Remicra snapped. “What if someone reports that the smithy is now a freaking cafe to Princess?”
“So what?” Cedez wiggled her eyebrows. “Dave’s a Lord from Illatius. If he wants to open a cafe here for a bit to make cash on the side, who’s gonna stop him? The contract I wrote didn’t specify any such limitations.”
Remicra's claws dug into the mossy rock beneath her, anchoring her to reality as her mind reeled with possibilities. A small, traitorous spark of excitement ignited in her chest. She quickly tamped it down.
"Seriously, what if Princess comes to check on me?" she asked, unable to keep the bitterness from her voice.
“We can extend the ward to encompass the entire meadow,” Cedez said. “That bracelet on Dave’s wrist can modify it to keep certain individuals like Pricci out. ‘Sides, I'm sure between all of us, we can come up with another convincing show of 'torment' if needed.”
Remicra opened her mouth, trying to protest, trying her best to come up with a wry explanation about how all of this would inevitably crash horribly around them.
“Remy,” Cedez suddenly hugged the dragoness with gloved hands. “Be positive. For Dave. He needs you to be strong.”
“Why?” The dragoness tried to send the fox a deadly glare, which didn’t come out as hostile as she’d wanted on the account of the four green Kitlix making her melt from within.
“Dave isn't just some random human who stumbled into our lives,” Cedez explained. “He’s the key to changing all of our fortunes.”
Remicra squinted at the dark vixen. “Don’t sell me fairytales, fox.”
“It’s not a fairytale, Remy,” Cedez shook her dark mane. “Each one of us has a role to play in Dave's future. I’m his dark Shadow, his skill amplifier. You’re his sword. Together, you and me–we’re going to forge him into a proper Shandrian Highborn.”
“What, another noble prick who…”
“No,” Cedez shushed the dragoness. “Obviously not. He's never going to be someone like Burgundy or any of them really.”
Terri stepped towards Remicra, her Kitlix jumping off the dragoness.
"Remicra," the Healer began, "there's something you need to understand about David.”
“Hrm?”
“Because of his skill, he has potential for greatness,” Terri waved a hand. “David's ability to manipulate souls... is incredibly powerful and rare, but it comes at a terrible cost… We healers call it… Vexirium, Skill Psychosis.”
Remicra noticed that Dave frowned.
“Psychosis?” She repeated. “Isn’t that an old mage thing?”
"Mental instability, false memories, degradation of self, etcetera," Terri nodded. "It afflicts him because his heartcore is growing in power far too quickly. Ordinarily, a mage reaches Level Forty Attributes by the time they're twenty five or thirty years old. David did that in less than a week. You’ve noticed him acting weird, have you not?”
“I… yes,” Remicra admitted. “He stole my window, acting quite deranged. He also told me that there were other Daves here too or something.”
“That part is actually true. Other David Walters were summoned to Shandria over many generations by the Dragon God Emperor... Sadly, none of them made it past ten years.”
“What?” the dragoness sputtered. “You’re telling me that…”
“Yes,” the Healer said. “Their soul-manipulating, rapidly growing skill eventually snapped their minds, turned them into something... inhuman, monstrous. Mad Mage Kells was another David.”
Remicra’s eyes widened.
Terri took a deep breath, her green antlers seeming to glow faintly in the afternoon light as she stepped closer to the smith. "I'm the Maidenlyne of Saint Saria. It's my duty, passed down through generations, to guide and protect David, whenever he arrives in Shandria. But I can't do it alone. We must keep him grounded, help him navigate the incredibly dangerous currents ahead.”
“Maidenlyne…” Remicra muttered. “You’re a cultist then… one of those idiots believing in whack elder ghosts or some-such nonsense?”
Terri frowned.
“Unfortunately, the fraction of my best friend’s ghost Terri carries is quite real,” Dave sighed.
The dragoness stared between the elkin healer and the human. She turned to the fox.
“Shandria is all sorts of effed,” Cedez shrugged. “We’re all effed in some way or another. Let's be less effed together, yeah?”
“Right,” Remicra huffed. “We’re just a basket of fruits. A group of nutcases planning to keep this one nutcase sane. Freaking great plan!" She threw her clawed hands up in exasperation.
She noticed that Dave's shoulders dropped at her outburst, his face falling into a mask of tired resignation. The sight tugged at something deep within Remicra, something protective.
Before she could second-guess herself, Remicra suddenly reached out and pulled Dave into a tight hug. She held him close, feeling the warmth of his body against hers, listening to the beating of his heart, feeling the tiny metal flakes moving across his veins. She’d have to pull those out in a few days, maybe make his knife into a short sword or something.
"Listen here, you impossible, crazy human," she grumbled, her voice lacking its usual bite. "I don't know if I believe all this nonsense about reincarnations, ghost of your friend and whatever else. But..." She paused, struggling to find the right words. "But I do believe in you. You've shown me more kindness than anyone has in years. More than I deserve. So if you need me to help keep you sane, then… fine. I'll do it… I’ll be your sword. Abyss, I’ll make you a sword. Whatever. Umm…”
David leaned into her embrace, and Remicra suddenly found herself unable to let go of him. It was as if he was the perfect weapon that she’d forged herself so long ago that she’s forgotten all about it, as if he's always… belonged to her.
She knew that it was a terrible idea to hug him, that she was screwing with him magically, infecting him with her affinities, yet she couldn’t push him away.
No, this was crazy. How could a human…
She choked. Unable to control herself, she possessively hugged him even tighter. It was probably just the metal flakes. The metal flakes had to be the rational explanation for the madness that had come over her!
“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for giving me a spark of freedom. Thank you… Davey.”
“Anytime, Remy,” he replied and she inexplicably felt that everything was finally alright with the world.