The hourglass of time turned once more.

The gentle sway of the winding river almost lulled Autumn into a deep slumber.

Ever since she’d resolved their issues with the naiads — nevermind the fact she’d helped create said issues — the party had made steady progress along the river. Already they’d passed by the ankle of the towering gemstone mountain range and, according to what the pixies had told her, they were nearing the place where the knower ought to be.

A wide yawn popped her jaw as she flicked through the spell-book of necromancy in her lap. This deep into the Feywilds, she felt it was safe enough to flick through its grim pages and aside from a concerned look leveled against her choice of reading material from Nelva, none of the others said much about it. She had spent the last few hours studying the healing spells, Flesh Stitching and Bone Grafting, with the goal of grasping even just the basics of them.

Another yawn cracked Autumn’s jaw.

With boredom and exhaustion plaguing her mind, Autumn found it hard to focus on her reading and glanced up at the rest of her party crowding the river-craft. It wasn’t plainly obvious to her who’d taken a fey-bargain or not, but there were some tells.

Pyre was the most obvious.

What she’d bartered for was healing. Both body and mind. A spiderwork of green scars sprawled across her pitted cheek and filled out the missing sections of her nose like pottery mended with gold. Kintsugi, Autumn thought the technique was called. More beautiful for having been broken. Above the scarring glowed a green fey-touched eye, giving the flaming girl a mismatched gaze as she looked around the waters.

As for what it cost? She wouldn’t say, only that it’d not been important to her.

The alchemist’s eyes met hers for a moment.

Autumn’s gaze shifted awkwardly to Liddie, the next party member who had undergone a minor fey-transformation. Although it was only obvious because she kept showing off the recent addition to her body.

The pirate now had a set of almost invisible gills running down the sides of her neck — a result of her bargaining for the ability to breathe underwater. Salt and fresh.

Now, it might just have been Autumn’s unflattering opinion of the pirate’s less than intelligent decision-making ability, but she thought this was a rare show of foresight. Mainly because she was still alive. After splitting off from the party, she’d spent the majority of the time underwater doing god-knows-what with the naiads.

Autumn certainly didn’t want to know.

The others were more of a gamble if they had or not.

Looking over at Edwyn, she saw they were sporting a rather nasty purple bruise over their left eye.

“Um, excuse me?” Autumn tentatively asked, gaining the runelord’s attention. “What exactly happened to you? Did a nymph attack you? Cause I was pretty sure they weren’t supposed to.”

Everyone’s attention shifted to the Manus, eager to hear whatever salacious tale they had to tell.

Edwyn touched the bruise with a hiss.

“This? Nah, it's juist a souvenir. Turns out the oread lassies donnae like us mining folk much. Call us; plunderers o' the earth, they do. I’ll admit, I might’ve called her some colorful words in return, 'n' afore I know it, we’re havin’ a good ol’ punch-up.” Seeing their looks of concern, they snorted. “Ach, we were juist settling our differences, was all. Afterwards, we exchanged some gems and jewelry.”

Edwyn paused.

“Actually, thinkin’ back on it, I might’ve gotten married. At least, that’s how the clans dae it, juist with more booze.” They shrugged. “Ehh, I seen worse lookers.”

Autumn sighed as everyone else laughed. She turned to Nelva seated nearby. “How about you? Did you get married too?”

Nelva gave her a wry grin. “Nothing so exciting. I kept my honor and virtue intact. Although, they did tempt me with a full-plate of orichalcum armor.”

“And ye didnae take it?!” Edwyn spluttered.

Nelva shook her head. “It wasn’t worth the cost.”

Edwyn sighed, stroking their beard idly. “Aye, I suppose sae. That’s likely for the best anyhow, you'll have Mountain Clan assassins after ye the second they catch wind o’ it.”

“Is orichalcum rare?” Autumn asked Edwyn curiously.

“Reasonably sae. It’s a natural magical alloy o’ copper ‘n’ gold. Gives off a reddish hue, it does, ‘n’ holds enchantments well. If ye had enough for full-plate armor, you could get it enchanted for less than a third mithril would run you, or — hallowed halls take me — adamantine. Provided ye had enough o’ either, that is.”

“Oh, right. Thanks.”

Autumn thanked Edwyn before turning her attention towards Eme.

Ever since the catgirl had returned to the boat, clothing askew and face flushed, Autumn had been studiously avoiding making eye-contact with her. However, despite how she looked, Eme insisted she did nothing untoward with the nymphs. And while Autumn believed her, the Felis bard looked guilty, which the witch suspected meant she’d made a deal with the fae despite her warnings.

Sighing, Autumn shuffled her way over to the morose girl.

“Hey.”

Eme started. “Oh, hey.”

Autumn chewed her lip, thinking her words over. “I believe you, about not sleeping with the nymphs. Even if you looked the part.”

Eme flushed. “They just got a bit handsy!”

“I guess that’s a hazard with you?” Autumn joked with a blush, remembering her own encounters with the catgirl’s soft skin. Reaching out a hesitant finger, the witch poked Eme’s soft stomach, marveling at the hardness hidden beneath. The sudden touch caused the catgirl to squeak.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” Autumn apologized. A bright pink enveloped her cheeks as Eme captured her hands to ward her off. The pair cuddled close in the tight confines of the boat. Words lingered unspoken between them — longing, attraction, guilt.

Eme bit her lips as tears gathered in her eyes.

Startled by the sight, Autumn hurriedly wiped the catgirl’s tears away with her sleeve.

“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to make you upset.”

“I’m sorry,” Eme choked out.

“About what?”

Eme sniffled, burying her face in the crook of Autumn’s neck. “I didn’t listen to you. I-I made a bargain,” she whispered. Upon looking up and seeing the panicked and hurt look on Autumn’s face, she hurriedly clarified. “Not for anything important, just some skills I wasn’t using — knitting and the like. As well as agreeing to do some simple tasks in the mortal realm.”

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Sighing, Autumn closed her eyes. She placed a hand atop Eme’s head and idly scratched behind her fluffy ears. The catgirl pressed herself happily into the touch.

“It’s never simple with the fae. But…it’d be hypocritical of me to scold you.”

“Really? Did you…?” Eme asked, her eyes wide.

Autumn hummed. “Not then, but back in the mire, I made a deal with one more powerful than them.”

The banshee preened.

“Hell, even getting my class was a gamble. If I hadn’t found my book or hat…well, things would be different, that’s for sure. Even meeting death was a tantamount to a bargain or two. Sometimes you have to take the chances that fall before you and deal with the cost later.”

Autumn looked to Pyre, the alchemist giving her a side eye.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so harsh with you. Can you forgive me?” Autumn asked her.

Pyre grimaced, looking like she was swallowing razor-blades. “I’m sorry too — I shouldn’t have snapped at you before either. I know you were just worried about us, but it was my decision to make.” She sighed. “Fine, I forgive you, if you forgive me?”

“Done!” Autumn laughed before giving the alchemist a quick hug. Disgruntled, Pyre scurried off to another part of the boat, emitting an air of teenage anti-socialness.

“What about Nethlia?” Eme asked.

“Huh? What about her?” Autumn asked, turning to her head to look at the berserker sitting behind them, idly pushing them off any rocks or roots they brushed up against.

Nethlia cocked her head curiously at Autumn.

“Do you think she made a bargain?” Eme whispered.

Autumn blinked. She took in the roughly dressed Inferni berserker in all her red glory. To her, Nethlia didn’t look, feel, or smell like she’d taken any fey-based pacts. Not that Autumn had a habit of smelling her…much. And only to make sure she wasn’t a changeling or anything. Honest!

“What are you two tittering about?” Nethlia asked with a cocked eyebrow.

‘Gods, how did she make that look so sexy?!’ Autumn screamed in her mind, causing the banshee to sigh.

However, out loud, Autumn just said, “we were just kinda wondering if you made any fey-bargains. It seems to be the thing to do lately.”

Nethlia chuckled. “Why would I when I’ve got you?”

Owlish eyes blinked up at the grinning handsome Inferni. Beside Autumn, Eme leant over to whisper into her ear. “I think she really wants to get into your pants. Maybe we can find a spot for you two for a couple of hours?”

Once more, a blush overtook Autumn’s face, this time almost coloring her the same shade as Nethlia. The witch turned her embarrassed ire upon the catgirl who’d caused it and they went down in a pile of limbs. Eme squealed as a furious witch found her ticklish spots.

There was no mercy to be had.

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“I never asked what you got out of the bargain you made.”

Autumn whispered to Eme later that day. Night? Either way, they’d settled down to rest, wrapped up in Nethlia’s powerful embrace — the demoness large enough to be the big spoon for both of them.

Eme turned over to talk face to face with Autumn. “Music.”

“Music? Just music?”

Eme shook her head, tickling Autumn’s nose with her ears. “Umm, it’s hard to explain. I had three of the nymphs offer me a lot of stuff, but I wanted to be stronger — more useful to you and the others. So I asked the oread to give me the ability to listen to the music of the earth. The aurae to let me hear the wind’s melody. And the dryad to give me nature’s songs.”

Autumn blinked. “That’s impressive.”

“It’s loud, is what it is.” Eme scowled cutely, her ears twitching furiously. “But, yes. If I can master it, I hope it’ll improve my bardic magic by leaps and bounds.”

“While that is wonderful. Some of us are trying to sleep,” Nethlia grumbled, squeezing the two to her chest. “Go to sleep. You two can figure things out in the morning…when we get up.”

Autumn blushed as Nethlia’s breast pressed against the back of her head, but she still did as she was bid and closed her eyes. Eme snuggled into both of their embraces like a kitten.

----------------------------------------

Nethlia sat awkwardly across from Autumn. In her hand was a freshly cleaned tooth — Autumn’s tooth, to be exact. The molar that Mildred had knocked out of her mouth. Rather than leave it for a hag to collect and use, Autumn had pocketed it. To be perfectly honest, she’d not had much hope of it being put back in. However, now that she had some necromancy-based healing spells — there wasn’t actually that much necromancy involved — she decided to try to reinsert it.

She expected it to be a rather painful process. Hence why Nethlia was doing it.

“Are you sure?” Nethlia asked.

Autumn nodded. “Yup. It’s killing me to have a gap there — eating is a pain. Just…shove it in there. I’ll handle the magic side of things.”

“We could wait, you know? Get you a golden tooth or something in Duskfields. We’ve got enough coins you could melt down.” Liddie put forward, looking on in disgusted fascination.

“Nah. I want mine back in.”

Nethlia shook her head. “Alright then. Try not to bite me.”

She reached forward and grasped the back of Autumn’s head to steady her. As she opened her mouth, Autumn was glad she’d brushed the best she could this morning using what little hygiene supplies she had left. She wondered if her cleaning spell could work on plaque, but that felt like magic that needed testing lest she strip the enamel from her teeth. Her wayward thoughts fled as Nethlia lined up the tooth with the recess it’d been knocked from.

“Ready?”

“Weady!”

Nethlia shoved the tooth home.

Autumn screamed.

Magic licked the roots of her tooth as she focused through the pain. Slowly, she anchored the tooth back into place, connecting all the broken nerves and blood vessels before sealing the quickly swelling gums around it. A small swish of healing potion offered by Pyre solidified it all into place.

Autumn sucked on her tooth before spitting out a glob of blood.

“How are you feeling?” Nethlia asked, wiping spit off her fingers. Teeth marks upon them showed that Autumn had in fact bit her.

“Gwood.” Autumn slurred. “Awh, noo. My mouwth is awll swoollen up.”

Nethlia laughed heartily at Autumn's aghast expression.

“Wits not fwunny!”

It was.

----------------------------------------

“Hey, ho! To the bottle I go,

“To heal my heart and drown my woes.

“Rain may fall and wind may blow,

“But there’ll still be many miles to go.”

Autumn was bored. Incredibly so.

She didn’t know how long they’d been traveling up along this lonesome river. Had it been hours or days since they’d met those nymphs along the rocky bank? With the unchanging light, it was hard to tell. All Autumn knew was that she’d slept more than once since then. Long enough for the swelling in her jaw to dull. Thankfully, they had enough food to last them a fair few days still.

After that? Well, then they’d have to think about foraging in the jungle, as dangerous a prospect as that might be. In fact, depending on how the Feywild worked, it might be an impossibility.

In some myths, the food here would either be so delicious that no mortal fare would satisfy them again, leaving them to waste away, or it’d be owned by another fae and taking it would be stealing. Knowing their luck, the game they’d catch might be some arch-fey’s court minster.

Either way, they’d owe them a debt.

Not an enticing prospect.

However, rather than dwell on that distant problem, Autumn opted to just sit at the prow of their craft and sing softly out over the waters with Eme by her side. The bard hummed a melodic tune to accompany the singing witch.

“Sweet as the sound of the pouring rain,

“And the stream that falls from a hill to plain.

“Better than rain or rippling brook,

“Is a mug of beer inside this Took.”

As they came around another bend, Autumn’s singing slowly petered out, for a strange sight was unveiled before them. A towering jungle tree lay across a narrowing in the river that was almost only as wide across as their craft. The narrow section itself wasn’t strange as they’d come across a fair few already in their journey, but before now, they'd never seen a tree damming the waterway.

Autumn doubted the naiads would appreciate it.

“This doesn’t feel right,” Autumn said, casting her eye to the treeline. “We should be wary of an ambush—”

Suddenly, a giant’s hand speared out from the river bank in a cascade of water. Before anyone could react, the thick hand wrapped around Eme and hauled her from the boat with a scream. Into the jungle, the mud-caked beast bounded, fleeing the violet jinxes crashing around it. Patches on the trees where the magic landed rotted away.

“After it!” Nethlia roared, leaping clear from the boat and onto the bank.

Autumn was quick behind her thundering steps. Her feet pounded upon roots as she chased after the giant lopping off in the distance. Beside her rushed Liddie, carving what vines and branches that’d survived both the monster and the berserker's fury.

“I thought you said the fae can’t harm us!” Liddie shouted angrily over their thunderous footfalls.

“That wasn’t a fae!” Autumn panted. “It was a giant! A cyclops, I think! It had only one eye!”

“What can they do?!” Liddie grunted, her white-gold blade cleaving a branch in twain. Autumn winced — the dryads are going to be so mad. “Other than being fuck-off big and presumably strong?!”

A bloodthirsty grin spread across the dark witch’s features. “If I’m remembering things right, they have an evil eye of fear. The dumb fuckers won’t know what hit them!”

Liddie laughed.

“Let’s go give them the undead angel special, shall we?”

Autumn grinned. Nobody stole what was hers.

Nobody.