“I remember I thought it was morning.”

Pink rose-petal lips took in the brim of the cup and sipped gently, daintily. Breasts rose and fell with a slow, even breath. “It was so bright out, you see. I woke up and looked out the window…” A hand tentatively rose to point to the covered window. “… and my curtains were shut. Just like those. But… but light was streaming in anyways. Like it was the dawn. So I thought it was, um… morning. I think.”

Aislin gave a slow nod. She looked down at her notes and scratched something down:

Bad sense of time.

She almost added, Airhead, but felt a bit bad about it. Aislin had only arrived in town yesterday. It was unfair to make judgments like that just yet. She looked back up at the girl and gave a sympathetic smile, resting her chin on her palm. “And then what happened?”

The girl hesitated. Her finger rose and gave an anxious tap-tap-tap against the wood of the table. “And then…”

The mayor’s daughter, Aislin’s current client, was an exceptionally beautiful girl. She didn’t look much younger than Aislin; Celyctine Keeper was maybe in her very early twenties. But she felt young, in the very specific way of one visibly unused to problems her good looks or father’s status couldn’t solve for her.

Her features were sculpted and delicate. Aislin’s first thought on seeing her had been ‘doll’, even if she didn’t want to say it. Aislin didn’t usually notice eye colors, but she’d noticed Celyctine’s right away—those big grass-green eyes that would drift around the room as Celyctine spoke, as if always searching for people to look back at her.

She was wearing a deceptively elaborate blue dress today, cinched in at the waist with lace. The dress had those weird poofy arms, which Aislin normally thought looked ridiculous, but definitely worked for Celyctine. The neckline dipped just enough to bare a hint of the pale, nicely-filled-out chemise beneath. Aislin was behaving herself and not looking too closely.

What she was really noticing was the voice.

Celyctine had an incredibly soft voice. She never seemed to have quite enough air in her chest to sustain much volume for long. Its tiny, timorous quiver always lingered in the air a fragment after she’d finished speaking and made it sound as if every word and every breath in between was a tiny plea for help.

She was like the perfect damsel. Aislin had a bit of a weakness for damsels.

“It’s okay if you aren’t able to say,” Aislin said, trying to suppress the need to squirm with the curiosity crawling inside her. “If you need more time.”

Celyctine’s tongue darted out to wet those pretty lips. “I went outside,” she said, and Aislin had to lean in closer to hear. “One step after another, down those long stairs.” Her voice weighted every word like a musical note.

“Why?” Aislin’s pen hovered over the paper.

“I don’t know why.” Celyctine’s eyes met Aislin’s for just a moment. “Every step I took, I… would feel almost like I’d forgotten something. Almost.” She tilted her head to the right with a vague frown. “And with each step down, my other foot would lift to hover over the next, and I’d feel like I was about to remember why I was doing it.”

Aislin waited. She tried to hold Celyctine’s gaze, tipping her own head to match. Celyctine seemed the type to scare easily, and she needed this sweet, pampered princess nice and soothed.

“And then my foot would fall,” Celyctine whispered. She swayed her whole upper body to the left, as if she’d been about to lose her balance. “It would fall, and I would forget again.”

“So you went outside.” Aislin scratched down, Sleepwalking?

“Yes. One step after the other.” Celyctine’s head swayed back to the right. “Down. Down…”

“You were going downhill?” Wait, or was she…

“Down the stairs.” Celyctine’s voice was barely a breath. “Every step, I’d start to remember, and then… back down. Up and down.”

Aislin leaned slightly to catch Celyctine’s eye again, trying very, very hard not to get frustrated. Avoidant? she scribbled, making sure her head remained level with Celyctine’s and Celyctine had nowhere to look but at her. “Were you alone?”

Celyctine’s lashes fluttered. Her chest slowly rose and fell. “Alone. Alone. But I felt… guided.”

Realizing she’d been unconsciously holding her own breath, Aislin let it out in a soft sigh. She breathed in deeply. The office they were meeting in smelled vaguely stale and sour, but Celyctine’s perfume covered a lot of it up with how close they were. “Guided?”

“Like I was matching movements.” Celyctine shook her head uncertainly, as if trying to clear it. She licked her lips. “Like someone else knew every step I should take. Every motion. Every rise, and every fall.”

“Like a doll,” Aislin said reflexively, then bit her lip. “I mean…”

“Like a doll,” Celyctine echoed. Her voice had fallen to such a faint pitch that Aislin had to place both arms on the table just so she could lean in close enough to hear. Celyctine’s head dipped, and then the mayor’s daughter’s elbows were on the table and those rosy cheeks were cradled between her palms, and their faces were very close. She took in a deep breath, then let it out again. “Down. Down.”

“Uh-huh.” Aislin’s words came out as another soft, exhaled sigh. Gods, this girl’s voice was pretty, but it was also so hard to make out any of the actual words. All this rambling was practically putting her to sleep.

She tried to write Lingering trance, then realized dimly she’d written Lingering down instead. Ugh. It was so hard to focus on writing and listening when listening took so much of her focus… “Okay. So you, uh, go outside.”

Celyctine’s head suddenly lolled. Aislin’s head dipped to match. She almost worried Celyctine was about to pass out or something.

Then Celyctine’s head lifted, and Aislin’s did, too.

Celyctine gave her a tiny smile. Aislin smiled back reassuringly.

“I go outside,” Celyctine whispered, licking her lips. “The air is cool, but I’m not cold.”

“Like you’re… numb?”

“Not numb. The cold doesn’t matter.” Celyctine blinked those big green eyes across at her. “Nothing matters but being guided to where I need to go.”

“Uh-huh.” Aislin slowly blinked. “And where is that?”

“I can’t tell where I’m going.” Celyctine reached up and brushed back a loose lock of hair. Her voice was gentle and methodical, like a spider carefully crawling across its web, trying not to disturb a single gossamer thread. “Just one step after another.”

“… right.” Aislin absentmindedly tucked some hair behind her ear. “And that leads…”

“Deeper.” Celyctine swayed to the right a little, licking her lips again.

“Deeper?” Aislin matched the dizzy girl’s motion. Her lips were dry, so she licked them. She honestly needed a drink of water, but they were so close… “Deeper, uh… where?”

Celyctine swayed back to the left. Her lashes fluttered. This girl was seriously out of it. “It’s… hard to remember? It feels so faint, and my head…”

“It’s okay,” Aislin murmured. Her head tipped to the left. She was getting a bit dizzy herself. This poor girl had clearly been through so much. “Just… focus.”

“Focus.” Celyctine slow-blinked.

“That’s right.” Aislin slow-blinked back.

Celyctine’s tentative smile returned. Aislin smiled, too. “It was a full moon. I remember that.” She nodded. “I went out under the full moon. Right under its bright, shimmering light.”

Aislin nodded encouragingly. “Which?”

“Which.” Celyctine played with a lock of her hair, blushing slightly for some reason.

“Yes.” Aislin suppressed a smile. Celyctine was a damsel, but she was also… definitely a bit of a bimbo. She idly spooled a lock of her bright red hair around her index finger. “Which moon.”

“Ero.” Celyctine’s tongue ran across supple lips, leaving them glistening in the light. “The Demon Moon of Lust.”

Aislin licked her lips. Then she went still.

She hesitated, reluctant to pull away in case it spooked Celyctine, but finally straightened. Celyctine blinked several times, as if startled out of a trance.

Aislin’s eyes dropped to the paper. She felt that dizziness lingering for just a moment longer than it should have, and briefly, a sense of worry took her.

Then it passed, and with it went the worry.

She fumbled with her pen, then wrote three words. She underlined them twice.

She nibbled on her fingers, thinking hard.

Succubus Queen involvement??

* * *

Aislin rarely remembered her dreams. She was pretty sure she didn’t even have them, really. She just passed out, stopped existing for a bit, and then woke up in the morning.

She’d definitely been dreaming over the last week, though. Ever since the interview with Celyctine, every wakeup felt tinged with blurry, indistinct echoes. Never anything specific. She’d just wake up in a really good mood on one day, or she’d find herself feeling shyer around one of the townsfolk in particular on another.

Today, what lingered was the sense of a rosy-pink moon’s light meeting her eyes.

But only for a split-second as she was jolted awake by the sound of the curtains being flung wide open and the glare of bright golden sunlight streaming across her face.

She gave a groan of protest, a hand escaping the weighty blankets to shield her eyes. “What’s the big idea, Hazel?”

“Aw, sorry, sleepyhead!” She heard the barmaid giggle, but it was a few seconds more before she could see the little noirette as more than a buxom silhouette against the morning light. Hazel gave a light hum, hips swinging from side to side. “I didn’t know you rugged adventurers needed so much beauty sleep!”

Aislin grumbled wordlessly, pushing herself to a seated position—but keeping her blankets clutched to her chest to maintain at least some modesty. This girl had gotten much too comfortable around her over the last week, she felt. She was pretty sure Hazel hadn’t been nearly so flirtatious when she’d first arrived.

Things were so much easier when the cute girls were properly intimidated by her mysterious adventurous allure.

“Anyhoo, you need to get up at once,” Hazel said, tying the curtain off so it stayed opened and spinning back to smile at her. Her earthy-green dress trailed slightly after her with the dramatic twirl.

“What for?” Aislin fumbled on the nightstand over a set of small colorful bottles. She settled on one filled with a metallic-gold pigment, and picked up the delicate paintbrush resting nearby. “I’m just people-watching today. Nowhere to really be.”

She leaned over her handmirror, propped up on the nightstand, and began carefully applying the paint to each of her freckles. Gold was a safe bet. Hestia had said the other day that gold freckles made her look like an angel.

“Because, silly,” Hazel said, and Aislin nearly jumped at the closeness of the barmaid’s voice and the sudden touch of Hazel’s warm hand on her bare shoulder, “you have some visitors~!”

Aislin blinked.

* * *

“It’s an excitin’ week for us, you know.” The innkeeper smiled slyly, one long knife-shaped ear giving a flick. “One special guest was spectacular enough. Now Myrtwel’s playing host to three?” She pushed herself up with her hands until her feet were surely dangling above the footstool behind the counter—bringing her eyes still not quite level with Veneri’s, even with him sitting down. “It puts a lass to wonderin’ just what we did to merit it.”

“Yes, well.” Veneri smiled sheepishly, trying his level best not to avoid the goblin girl’s gaze. “I don’t remember if I caught your name.”

“Hestia.” The goblin beamed. Her skin was a pale pastel blue, her navy-blue hair tied into two spiky shoulder-length pigtails. She lowered herself back onto the footstool and offered a hand to shake. “What a pleasure to meet such a polite young hero!”

“Oh, I’m—I’m sure I’m no hero, ma’am.” Veneri shook her hand. Hestia’s long nails were painted an orangeish-pink and decorated with brilliant cerulean swirls, reminding him almost of dark clouds against the dawn. “Veneri. Just a… traveling swordsman.”

“Oh, yeah?” Hestia blinked down towards his belt. Veneri realized she was looking for his sword.

“It’s—it’s on the cart,” he added quickly. “On the cart. It’s a greatsword, so… cumbersome. It’s a little…”

He felt a tug on his shirt.

Veneri looked at his traveling companion. She had yet to sit down, and her eyes were narrowed. She had a slight build, and at a bit over five feet, she stood a full head and a half shorter than him—and even with him seated, it was a near thing. She had light skin and dark, wavy shoulder-length hair—at least, he was pretty sure, though she never lowered the hood of that dark brown cloak. Not even when they made camp.

“What’s wrong with you?” she hissed under her breath, facing slightly away from the innkeeper as if worried Hestia could read lips. “You gonna tell them how to unstrap your armor, too?”

Veneri hesitated. “I mean, it’s just a coat of mail, Thrush, they can—”

“Hsst!”

Veneri was a little too perplexed at the feline hiss to really know what to say. He was conscious of how rude this had to look to Hestia, though, so he struggled to think of a way to quickly move on.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to, because a familiar voice called out, “Oh, good gift of Shatterbell, it took you long enough!”

All three turned to see a woman hurrying down the stairs of the Blue Apple, her face split in a wide smile of relief and delight.

Aislin looked exactly as Veneri remembered her. Her maple-red hair trailed after her as if in defiance of gravity. Her freckles were painted glittering gold today, making her blue eyes shine in sharp contrast. Over dark leathers she wore a dark green cloak with a silver clasp molded in the shape of twin feathers. Her build was only slightly taller than Thrush, but softer-looking—softness that belied powerful muscles as she bounded up and grabbed Veneri in a tight, back-breaking hug.

Veneri grunted in slight surprise, but he quickly returned the embrace. He squeezed Aislin tight, halfway lifting her off the ground. “It’s good to see you, Ais—”

“Where’ve you been, Veneri?” She pulled back slightly, still in his arms, her hands on his shoulders as she stared down at him intently. “And are you seriously still wearing that dumb helmet? It’s late summer. You look like you’re roasting. Your face is so red.”

Veneri smiled weakly and set Aislin back down, reaching up to adjust the battered helmet. His hands ran over the flower engravings. “And you’re still wearing that brooch.”

“My phase-feather clasp, yes.” She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. “Which is enchanted, so I have good reason, and it looks cute on me.” She put a hand to her chest in a show of half-sincere vanity.

“This is enchanted, too.”

“Oh, yeah? Wow!” She widened her eyes, lips half-parted in mocking wonder. “What’s it do, then, Veneri? What mighty enchantments does it bear?”

Veneri scoffed “I keep telling you, Ash, not all enchanted items are lucky enough to come with labels on them.” He reached back and gave a slow, aching stretch. “I’ll find out when I find out.”

Aislin grinned. “I hurt your back there?”

“No, just—just a little sore.” He groaned as his back gave a slight crack.

“You dummy.” Aislin put a hand on her hip. Her eyebrows furrowed. “You’re sleeping in your armor again, aren’t you.”

“I—not always, but—”

“He is,” piped up Thrush’s hoarse voice. They turned to see the little scout scowling up at both of them. “But we should take this someplace more private.”

Aislin looked at her, then at Veneri. Her expression washed to a sudden cool neutrality. “Oh. And who is this?”

Her tone indicated she already had a hunch.

Veneri smiled weakly. He turned to Thrush first, sensing Thrush’s agitation. “Thrush, this is… Aislin. Aislin. I forgot to mention on the road, but she and I are very old friends.”

“Friends?” Thrush’s voice didn’t exactly sound skeptical. It sounded wary.

“We worked the same fields every summer, back when we were kids.” As he turned back to face her, Aislin’s gaze held his intently. “And we both became adventurers around the same time. We probably would have gone adventuring together, even, but we both picked the sword. Not a lot of demand for that.” She patted the sheathed sword at her hip. “So we got recruited by different parties.” Her eyes drifted back to Thrush. “And did he say your name was…?”

“Aislin, this is Thrush.” Veneri almost reached to touch Thrush’s shoulder, but thought better of it. “Thrush was looking for a group to—”

“Hsst.” Thrush shoulder-bumped him as she started for the stairs. “Upstairs. Which is your room?”

Aislin stared at Veneri. “Third door. I’ll show you.”

As he followed the two women, Veneri glanced back towards Hestia.

The goblin smiled and gave a wink. He looked away quickly.

There were multiple reasons his face was so red.

* * *

“Ugh, no, so this job is tricky.” Aislin sat down on her bed, rolling her eyes. “I feel like I’m getting run in circles out here.”

“It’s a missing person case, right?” Veneri leaned against the wall, looking out over the shimmering surface of Lake Myrtwel. “Are you sure it isn’t… drownings? Drownings.”

“That’s the thing.” Aislin scowled down at her clasped hands. “They aren’t missing.”

“But you said—”

“People go missing, yes, but they always come back.” Aislin sprawled out on the bed with a sigh. “And they never seem to remember where they went or who did it. Hell, half of them won’t even admit it happened.”

She rolled on her side, facing away from him, and then reached to her pillow. Veneri noticed a piece of paper had been left there.

Veneri tried to make out what it said, but Aislin almost immediately stuffed it back under the pillow and rolled onto her other side to look at him. “At first I thought it might just be a WIld Hunt, or, I don’t know, a new casino-warren…”

“I was gonna say, this is Rainvale.” He paused. “What if it’s something… national? National, national… we’re close to the Balm, aren’t we?”

“Like Wildflower stuff?”

“Yeah. Aren’t they basically at war?”

“Well, apparently that situation has seriously deescalated. There’s actually a political marriage being arranged right now between the prince and the princess, so it’s not that. And it’s not sirens. They’ve been quiet lately. And I can’t find any sign of fae or does in the area.” She huffed. “You know those bunnygirls are about as subtle as a hangover.”

“Hm.” Veneri’s gaze turned back to the window, where the Blue Apple’s elevated position gave an excellent view of the town below. The waves of the Myrtwel sloshed against the distant docks, where workers were currently offloading sacks and crates. White smoke billowed from the glassworks to the north and was swept by southerly winds to swirl around the steeple of the town’s towering cathedral. Further outside of town, the countryside was checkerboarded by green fields. “Those farms are vineyards, right? Vineyards. Maybe—”

“I said there’s no fae. At least, not as far as I can tell.” He heard Aislin pause. “I mean, there could be, but it would be weird for Rainvalers to keep that a secret. They don’t like fae here. Wildflowers don’t like magic, Valers don’t like fae. I always get those mixed up for some reason.”

“Hm.” Veneri hesitated, then turned back to face her. His gaze didn’t quite meets hers, though.

It wasn’t that he was shy in Aislin’s bedroom. They’d shared sleeping quarters all the time back at the farms, and long since established that they were a lot more comfortable around each other as friends. It was just that the third occupant was making things a little… awkward.

Thrush was perched on the chair in the corner. ‘Perched’ was the only way to describe that gargoyle posture—she certainly wasn’t sitting. She also wasn’t taking part in the conversation. Her eyes just kept flicking between him and Aislin with overt, undisguised suspicion.

His gaze accidentally met hers, and Thrush looked away immediately, her face reddening. “Gonna go,” she muttered, and hopped up from her seat. “Back soon.”

The door clicked quietly shut behind her.

“That means she’s going to pee.” Veneri laughed shortly. “She never actually says it. She’s an odd—”

“Please tell me you two aren’t dating.”

“What?” He stared at Aislin, face going hot. “No, I—no, we’re not. We’re not! What?”

Aislin snorted. “Okay, thank the Scattered. Sorry. I had to check.” She sat up, folding her arms. “So why the hell is she here, Veneri? What possessed you to do that?”

“She needed a party.”

“Yeah, because—” Aislin visibly bit her lip to hold the words back. Her voice lowered. “Look, I know you must’ve heard the rumors about her. About her ’misplacing’ her last party.”

Veneri nodded warily. He came over to sit on the arm of Thrush’s chair.

“Her whole party disappears, and she comes back without a scratch. I swear, Veneri, you trust people way too easy.” Her eyebrow arched. “Especially women.”

“Thrush had some… bad luck.” Veneri weighed his words carefully. “Bad luck. Bad luck, yeah. But I don’t think she did anything. Everyone assumes the worst because she’s so quiet about it, but… well, you’ve seen her. She’s quiet about everything.” He gestured towards the door. “And she’s handy. She’s smart. You know I’m not.”

“You’re plenty smart.”

“Yeah, but…” Veneri shifted. The position wasn’t very comfortable, but he didn’t want to immediately stand back up and look foolish. “… I mean, if you want to solve a mystery, she’s probably a better pick. Than either of us.”

Aislin didn’t speak for a moment. She brought up a hand and nibbled on a finger. Her eyes drifted around the room before settling on her pillow.

“I wrote to you because I trust you, Ven. I dunno who to trust in this town. I needed someone I… knew.” She paused. “So I’ll trust your judgment here.”

Veneri smiled hesitantly. “Well, I trust you, too, Ash.”

Aislin scoffed. “Damn right you do. I’m always right.”

She flopped back onto the bed. “Though sometimes I wish I wasn’t. There’s something weird about this town, Ven! Seriously weird. Be careful.”

Veneri nodded.

A long silence settled over them.

“So, like, Thrush wasn’t serious about us all sharing the room, right?”

* * *

Veneri lay on his side, conscious of how his every breath disturbed the deep stillness of night—and how his every movement might disturb his bedmate.

Aislin slept soundly beside him. The bed was easily big enough for the two of them, but he hadn’t shared a bed with anyone in years.

He’d gotten so used to sleeping in the armor by now, too. Aislin had basically insisted he take it off before getting into bed with her. It was strange to sleep in just his basic tunic and trousers again, let alone with company at his back, and he’d managed to fall asleep only briefly so far.

His dreams had been… strange. He couldn’t remember any details.

It was Thrush who’d woken him up.

Veneri could still hear Thrush’s fitful kicks and rolls. He knew those little grumbles meant she was asleep. She’d insisted on taking the floor. ‘No splitting the party,’ and all that.

He rolled onto his back with a tiny sigh. The air was thick and stagnant, and the glass windows—though pretty—were not designed to open.

He stared straight up. Through the warped windows came a steady stream of gentle starlight. The starlight formed dappled shadows on the walls and ceiling, reminding him a bit of the speckles of a fawn’s back.

He took in a deep breath. Musty, dusty air. And Thrush hadn’t exactly bathed recently. He’d brought that up to her once, but she’d almost seemed uneasy at the mere idea of making herself more appealing to be around.

Slowly, careful not to let the bed creak, Veneri pulled himself out of bed and crept to the door. He had to be mindful of Thrush’s fitful tosses and turns. With those unpredictable movements, she made quite the tripping hazard.

He paused midstep as one such roll brought the scout’s face spilling into the moonlight. Her button nose twitched, almost like a rabbit’s, and her lips moved to form words that didn’t quite find breath to back them. Her brow was furrowed as in in deep thought.

She looked almost… cute like this, Veneri thought, then felt his cheeks heating up. He hurried over to the door and delicately let himself out.

He definitely needed some fresh air.

* * *

With the inn abandoned for the night, and not wanting to risk exploring an unknown town after dark, Veneri had stumbled his way uphill, following the faint sound of trickling water. In the daytime, these trees had looked scrubby and half-formed, but in the darkness of night, it could have been an ancient old-growth forest, and the trees seemed to loom proudly over him as he picked his way carefully along the path.

The creek he found was really more of a sluggish brook, only a few paces wide at the widest point. Ripples glittered across its surface, splitting the reflections of the moonlight into countless shards of rosy light.

He took in a deep, steadying breath. The air out here was fresh and piney, and quite cold for a summer night. The lake’s influence, probably. Without his armor or padding, he could feel goosebumps creeping across his arms, but that didn’t stop him from falling to his knees to splash his face in the frigid waters.

Oh. That felt so much better. He sighed, taking several more deep breaths. If only he could bottle this clear air and bring it back with him.

He exhaled and splashed his face again, sank his arms into the water to enjoy the refreshing chill—

He heard a girlish giggle.

He looked up.

“Oh.” Veneri blinked, then blushed. “Hello, Miss!”

He wasn’t alone at the creek. A beautiful girl knelt on the other side of the stream, some three paces away. Her hair was a shimmering rosy pink, almost metallic in how the moonlight seemed to reflect off of it, and her pale skin, too, had a shine to it. Her eyes were deep and dark, but bright half-moon highlights glinted within those black pupils. She smiled at him. Her hair was currently bunched up and held in both hands, and Veneri realized she was washing it in the creek.

“Oh, uh. Sorry! I didn’t mean to… interrupt.” Veneri pulled his arms out of the creek. “Didn’t mean to,” he repeated compulsively, averting his gaze. “I can…”

He heard little bells jingle, and looked back to see the girl shaking her head. He realized there were little silver bells strung through her hair by red ribbons, two on each side of her pretty oval-shaped face.

“No?” He blinked several times. “But, uh…”

She smiled at him. Her eyes held his, those little highlights sparkling bright.

Veneri slowly realized she didn’t mind him being here. Not at all. She tilted her head endearingly as her fingers slowly brushed through that long, shimmering hair. Her pretty lips lent an almost catlike curve to her smile.

“Well… if you’re, uh, sure.” He rubbed his back uncertainly.

She nodded eagerly, beaming at him. Of course she was sure, Veneri realized.

She was his friend, after all~!

The maiden pulled at one evidently tangled knot of hair, combing it clear and then twirling the lock around a finger. Her lashes fluttered. And he didn’t mind her being there… did he?

He smiled hesitantly. His eyes drifted from hers—shining almost too bright to bear, but it was a full moon tonight—to the long, slender finger twirling that sparkling pink hair.

His world seemed to slow down a moment. He heard her give a little hum. Didn’t her hair catch the light so… nicely? Watching it wind around and around and around… being pulled closer, closer…

He blinked slowly and looked back at her. He shook his head slightly.

She giggled. Her head bobbed in agreement, bells jingling. Of course he didn’t mind! She was very beautiful. He liked staring at beautiful girls~

Veneri felt his cheeks getting hot. This maiden seemed to know him so well. He nodded shyly. “Yeah, uh… well, not that good with girls, historically. Ha.” He glanced down shyly, realizing his state of dress. “A-And I’m, uh, not exactly…”

She hummed. His eyes rose back to hers, and then down a little as she licked lips to leave them glistening.

His cheeks grew hotter. “No, I—I don’t mind.” He licked his own lips. “I mean, Aislin’s seen it plenty of times. But she’s… an old friend.”

Twirl. Twirl. Her hair spooled around her fingertip like shimmering copper threads. She blinked big, innocent eyes, leaning forward slightly, and he tried to focus on what she was asking and not the way her breasts jiggled in the sheer nightgown she was dressed in.

And focus on her finger. Twirling, swirling, reeling the pretty sparkly hair in…

… gods, he felt really… tired. Maybe the cold water hadn’t woken him up much after all.

“N-No,” he mumbled. His tongue felt clumsy. “Um… we’ve always just been friends. She’s…”

He trailed off as the maiden giggled. Her elbows pressed in, ever-so-slightly squishing those boobs together and pushing them up towards him. Her finger slipped low, twirling the hair just in front of her heart-shaped cleavage.

He swallowed. His cock was getting hard. Staring at this pretty girl, listening to her pretty voice…

Twirl. Twirl. The maiden had another little question for him, if he didn’t mind~? She blinked up at him, finger slowly spinning.

Veneri squirmed. “She’s… she always said she liked brunettes, I think? But she’d always get really quiet when she was talking to a blonde. Like she was intimidated, or, uh. Honestly, it sort of seemed like…”

Veneri stopped himself. The words had slipped out without even thinking about it, before he could even think about why he would tell this girl—this complete stranger—such… personal information. He felt himself frowning slightly. Why was he…?

She pouted. “Mm~”

She wanted to know more. Twirl. Twirl. His eyes followed the finger’s motions. She just wanted to know if Aislin had ever had any lovers. She was just so curious. He and Aislin were so mysterious, and interesting, and he was so handsome…

“Uh… one.” Veneri smiled hesitantly, feeling the heat rising again. His eyes fell to her breasts, watching them bounce together as she leaned slightly forward. “Yeah, she’s… she had one, but it didn’t work out.”

She smirked slightly. Her finger curled.

His cock twitched.

“Uh-huh,” he managed, bucking slightly. His voice felt briefly not in his control, and he had to take a moment to recover it. “She was… she w-was a witch, so Ash really…” He hesitated, smile faltering. “Y-You, uh, won’t tell…?”

The maiden giggled. She leaned forward a little farther, giving him a deeper view. Her breasts seemed to glow with a light of their own, and he felt his vision swirling in towards them…

There was no need to keep any secrets. He could tell her, couldn’t he~?

She wouldn’t tell~

He was so good at trusting pretty girls like her~

Pretty girls with… long, pretty fingers twirling around their pretty, sparkly hair…

“Kisses,” he said, the smile slowly returning. “She’d, uh, kiss her, and… make her all silly and…”

The maiden pouted those luscious pale lips. Her finger twirled, twirled, and it was like his mind was drawn to that spinning finger…

“Yes,” he slurred, giving another buck. “She… I s-saw her once, uh…”

“Hm~?”

“S-Saw the witch, uh… blow a kiss, and…”

“Mm~”

“… her eyes went…” Veneri stared dazedly at the maiden’s twirling finger.

Blank~?

“Blank,” he echoed, aching to reach down and stroke. Something about this pretty girl had his whole body so desperately needy… he was so sleepy, and the moonlight felt so nice and warm on his back…

… it almost felt like a… wet dream. The way his whole world just oozed towards her.

He heard her giggle. Her breasts wobbled together with the tinkling laughter. Maybe it was one~?

Oh. That was a nice idea! Because, if it was, then… then he could…

Then you could…?

The maiden’s eyes gleamed like the heavens, shone with rosy Erotic moonlight. She took a step closer, and he barely even registered how her feet alit atop the water rather than sinking beneath. She was taller than him now, since he was kneeling, and her finger was twirling that long, silky hair right before his eyes, her breasts jiggling so prettily as another question trickled down…

He watched the hair swirling slowly, catching the light as it spun round and round…

“No,” he moaned in answer, “n-never, uh… she doesn’t…”

The maiden’s smirk returned. She lowered down a little, catching his gaze. Another question.

“B-Because it’s… it’d make her look k-kinda like a bimbo, maybe? Even if it’s…” He smiled dazedly, eyes following that spinning finger. He felt himself nodding. “Y-Yeah, it… it is kind of cute…”

Her eyes glowed. “Mm-hm~?”

“… twirling her hair would…” He squirmed. “… would be cute…”

Her finger slowly spun, and it almost felt like his mind was getting caught up in that pretty, shimmery hair, too. Getting pulled in and wound around and around that long, delicate finger…

His cock twitched.

And throbbed. Oh. Oh, gods…

“I, uh…” He gave a dizzy smile, slowly climbing to his feet. He needed to go. Needed to… deal with this before they noticed. Come up with something. Make an excuse. He met her eyes shyly. “I should go touch myself.”

He blinked.

The maiden’s smile grew wider.

Veneri froze. “I.” His cheeks went very hot. “I! I-I mean—I didn’t—”

From behind him, there came a light, lilting giggle.

Long, delicate fingers appeared from behind, caressed his cheek, and pulled his head around until he was face-to-face with an almost identical maiden. Her smile shone with pure sweetness. Her hair shimmered like the dawn—or like the rosy-pink moon shining down on them—and her eyes held his in warm, soothing light.

She wrapped an arm around him and leaned in close, lashes falling and rising to punctuate a deep, unending stare. It was okay, those eyes whispered. He could stay~!

He felt good here, didn’t he?

He felt happy~

Veneri smiled uncertainly. His hard cock gave a needy twitch. “I, uh, just…” His lips felt dry. He licked them. “… I didn’t mean to… say that, so…”

She giggled again. More giggling from behind as the first maiden drew in close behind.

“Yeah, uh…” He squirmed. Even in his daze, pure furnace-hot embarrassment was starting to burn through the sweetest of reassurances. He was barely dressed, barely awake, and his hardness wouldn’t stop twitching and bucking against its sheer restraints… “I should really… I’m sorry, but I h-have to…”

The new maiden’s finger began twirling around a lock of her spun-rose-gold hair.

He watched the finger twirl. “… I need to, uh…”

His lips parted slightly. He licked them again.

Her eyes sparkled. Why should he need to do anything?

Everything here felt so good, didn’t it~?

The thought felt like his own, but… sweeter, more velvety, slinking in and making itself at home in his open, dizzy, sleepy brain. He smiled hesitantly. “I… y-yeah, but I just…”

The first maiden’s lips were on his ear. Brushing, grazing. So soft. Such a sleepy boy. He was so very happy to just stay here with them, wasn’t he?

Happy and throbbing and bucking in place…

He bucked, breaths starting to turn ragged.

… watching the finger twirl, twirl, twirl…

“Twirl,” he echoed. A little drool was leaking from the corner of his mouth. He licked his lips. Their fingernails were painted such a pretty silver, and pink light danced across the maiden’s fingertip as it spun her hair around and around…

His mind could just follow the finger, couldn’t it? Follow it around and around, so easy to sink, so easy to stare~

“easy,” he heard himself mumble, and his voice sounded so small, so distant…

Yes. Exactly. Good boy, so easy to stare, so easy to let the finger slowly spool his thoughts around and… pull…

“tug,” he whispered, feeling his words interlacing with theirs. “easy to… stare, to let the finger draw… thoughts out…”

Hair-twirling was such a cute, flirty gesture, wasn’t it?

“cute,” he slurred, bucking into the air.

It was so easy to fixate on it. So easy to stare.

“easy…”

The finger spun in slow looping arcs, speeding up as it fell and slowing down as it rose back up.

Rising… up~

Bringing him… down~

Bringing you up~

Bringing you down~

Up, just for a moment, as our hair catches the light, see how it sparkles, glitters, shines, and then—

Down, down, down-down-down, good boy, dumb boy~

The finger dipped.

Down. Down.

Down, he mouthed, but no sound escaped.

And… up~!

Up, he tried to whisper, almost moaning. His cock was getting so hard.

The maiden’s breath caressed his ear. And down, and down, and down, and you can just stare at that pretty, twirling finger, and feel your mind opening, down, down, and…

… and up, and up, and isn’t she so cute and pretty when she does that? Isn’t it so, soooo easy to start thinking about her and—

—down, down, falling deeper, because she’s sooo adorable, and it’s so easy to form a little crush when you watch the finger and up, up, up, up—

“uh-huh,” he breathed. His mind felt so… scattered, and even though he was up, he still felt so dizzy, still felt like he was sinking, and

Up, and down, and up, and down, finger twirling, hair shining, up, down, and—

“down,” he babbled, bucking again, feeling his cock twitching and throbbing, basically fully in view. He was getting dizzy. His knees were starting to buckle.

Goooood~

He was smiling stupidly, bucking in place right in front of the pretty girls. He could feel a hand slipping down below as the maiden behind him started to kiss his neck along his jawline, and the maiden’s hair-twirling just made her look so pretty, so lovely, so cute, so…

—and up, up, up, but wowww, she’s starting to look like the prettiest girl in the world to you, isn’t she?

Of course I am~ The eyes sparkled. The finger twirled. Curving up… up…

Of course she is. Such a silly, sleepy boy~! You’re starting to get all silly and flustered and shy and then suddenly down-down-down, down you go—

“down,” he slurred, beaming, hand slipping down to start pumping…

That’s right, such a good, dumb sleepy boy, letting that lust pulse and throb and sink deep into you, down, down, dragging you back into that silly daze, cheeks all red, and you’re aaall under her spell…

… and gosh, watching that cuuute twirling finger… couldn’t you just fall in love with a girl like—

As the wind picked up, shadows began to spread across the world around them, pushing towards the hill like a massive wave of solid, inexorable darkness.

Suddenly everything was dark.

Veneri stood there, swaying, drooling, staring at empty air. It was freezing-cold. His cock was leaking and twitching in his pants.

And he was entirely alone on the hillside.

Veneri looked up dizzily. The winds had carried a thick layer of clouds across his sky, blocking out the light of Ero. The full glow of the Demon Moon of Lust had been reduced to faint rosy-pink linings around the dense black.

His legs wobbled. His brows furrowed in vague, dreamlike confusion.

That… that had been…

He needed to splash his face with water again, but something in him didn’t dare tarry here.

He turned and made his way down the hill in a rush, head still spinning a little in time with that pretty twirling finger.

* * *

Thrush’s eyes shot open, and she sat bolt upright on her bedroll. The thin quilt she’d been given as a blanket fluttered away from her fully-clothed upper body. She remained very still, listening to her heart pound.

After a moment’s stillness, it registered that her unsound sleep had taken the lower end of her bedroll sliding halfway under the raised bedframe next to her. She awkwardly dragged it and her legs out from under. Her blankets were tangled, too. She was sweaty, but there were chilly goosebumps racing down her arms and legs.

Her lips pursed to the side. More… dreams. She could hear either Veneri or Aislin snoring faintly. Probably Aislin. Veneri was usually a quiet sleeper.

Thrush’s head lifted towards the window, and she let out a tiny hiss. Pink moonlight was streaming through.

She pushed herself up, skittered over to the window, and yanked the curtains shut. What idiot…?

She clenched her fists, glancing towards the bed.

The blankets were big and fluffy, making it hard to make out much in the way of shapes in the sudden full darkness, but she could see the silhouette of Aislin’s head barely poking out from underneath.

Thrush’s head pushed forward slightly. There was something small sticking out from under Aislin’s pillow.

It looked like a piece of paper. The same one Aislin had retrieved earlier.

Thrush hesitated, but only for a second. She leaned over, snatched the paper out, and stuffed it into a pocket. It crinkled slightly, but not loud enough to wake either of Thrush’s partymembers.

If someone was leaving one of them hidden messages, Thrush reasoned, that concerned the whole party. It wasn’t Aislin’s to keep.

She crept back to her bedroll and wriggled back underneath the covers.

She didn’t trust Aislin.

Mind, she didn’t trust most people these days.

* * *

Veneri spent an embarrassingly long time leaning against the front door of the inn before remembering that it opened outward.

His head lolled as he made his way into the common room. He was having trouble focusing on anything but the path straight ahead of him, and what had just happened outside swirled at the forefront of his mind, blurry and indistinct but very real. He needed to tell the others. Aislin would know what those creatures were, and Thrush would know what to do about it. Or… the other way around, maybe. Needed to tell the girls. Needed to tell the girls. Needed to…

“Someone’s out late~”

Veneri’s head lifted, and he blinked dimly up at… oh, yes. Hestia. The pretty innkeeper.

“I, uh…” He licked his lips. “I’m…”

“Havin’ some trouble sleeping?” The goblin smirked slightly. Her fingers slowly swept back and forth against the wood grain of the countertop.

“S-Sort of.” Needed to tell the girls. “I should…” He glanced uncertainly towards the stairs and took another step towards them.

“You know…” Hestia’s silky voice trailed after him as he took another step. “… I hope you don’t mind me saying, but you seem a li’l… dizzy.”

Veneri went to take another step.

A wave of vertigo suddenly swept up from beneath, and he teetered in place. His hands shot out for balance.

A pair of hands grabbed hold of one of his and yanked him upright. And then a little to his right, closer to the counter. “Very, very dizzy,” Hestia cooed, and another upwelling of dizziness had Veneri swaying as he turned to face her.

The goblin had appeared standing on one of the barstools. He didn’t know how she’d moved so fast. She held his arm in both hands, dark blue lips curving up into a sly little smile. “Better have a seat.”

“O-Oh.” He took an unsure step forward, then let her push him down onto a barstool. He nodded dumbly. “But I need to…”

“So, what’s your poison?” Hestia chirped. She was behind the counter again. He hadn’t… seen her move, that time. He really was seriously out of it. “Blueberry cordial is my specialty.”

He licked his lips. “I’m… I shouldn’t be drinking so late.”

Needed to tell the girls. Needed to tell them, before the details started to fade…

“Late at night is the best time to be drinkin’.” Thick, dark lashes rose and fell. “The liquor works quicker when the thoughts are all thicker.” Her fingers danced across the countertop. “Swirls in nice and deep when you keep yourself from sleep.”

“Oh.” He stared into those massive catlike golden eyes, then down at her hand as it drifted to and fro across the countertop. “It… does, yes.”

“Uh-huh.” She rested her chin on one palm, cheek squishing slightly. She seemed to look him up and down. “Everything’s sweet when the day is complete and you’re teetering just to stay up in your seat~”

He smiled dazedly. “Shouldn’t drink.”

“Why not?”

“Not… safe. Someone’s…” He pointed dimly towards the window facing the entrance. Rosy light filtered in through the misty glass. “… I, uh, these girls…”

“Well, tell me about them, cutie~” Back and forth swept those fingers, strumming as if playing an instrument, blue nails tapping lightly against the counter. “One can’t go ignoring his pretty, adoring, lovely host’s imploring for a riveting story… _ing.”

“Two girls.” He bit his lip. “They… the moonlight, they…” He needed to get upstairs. Needed to tell the girls.

Her nails lightly tapped against the counter. “Is this to do with why that pretty cock of yours is all hard and twitching?”

Oh. Yes. He was only wearing trousers and a tunic, and the trousers weren’t… oh, gods, he was still so…

He blushed. “They—I couldn’t, um, think, they…”

“Hypnotized you.” Back and forth the hand swept. “Didn’t they?”

He nodded shyly.

“The Moonlit Maidens will do that if they catch you. Lure you in, lull you down, and drop you under.” Her voice was a luxurious, sugary-sweet purr. “They won’t catch you in here, though. Here you’re nice and safe with me.”

“Oh… g-good, but, uh, I need to…” His eyes followed those glittering nails as they tippety-tapped against the counter. Back and forth. Back and forth… “I need to…”

“Tell girls.” He could hear her little smile tinging her voice. “Need to tell girls. Tell me.”

“They… s-something about um…” His cheeks were burning. He truly wasn’t used to dealing with pretty ladies who were so… forward… and now this was his third tonight. He was so tired, so overwhelmed… “The way they, uh, twirled their hair, I couldn’t… think?”

“Couldn’t think.” Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Hestia lick her lips. “Keep talking, cutie. It’ll help you remember!”

“Yeah.” He nodded drowsily. “Couldn’t think. And and it was like they were… talking right in my mind?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Whisperin’ riiight into that nice, silly brain of yours, making you drop out of the world right and into their control.” Hestia’s voice was soft. “You gotta watch out for that, cutie. You know the thing about hypnosis?”

“W-What?”

“Well, see, bein’ hypnotized is a skill.” Her candied purring lowered to a slow, leisurely simmer. “It takes focus. It takes practice. Trancin’ someone is easy, but being tranced? That’s much trickier.” She leaned in slightly. The backs of her nails dragged delicately against the wood. “It takes skill to open up that weeeak, easy, open mind of yours and let pretty girls start slipping in whatever suggestions they please, takes skill to let yourself get dropped nice and deep into weak, easy trance.”

“Right, they…” He squirmed. Her low bedroom tones weren’t helping with his hardness. He tried to keep his gaze on anything but her amply-displayed chest, no matter how he ached to look… “So I need to… warn the, uh…”

“Say, cutie.” The hand lifted off the counter briefly to put a finger to her lips, and his eyes instinctually followed it. “How does one build up a skill?” She blinked innocently, lips remaining half-parted with open curiosity. The sunsets on her painted nails seemed to flow with a fire of their own in the dimly-lit bar.

He hesitated. His eyes drifted from her fingers to her lips to those bright golden eyes. Back to her lips. Those plump, full lips. “P… Practice?”

“That’s riiight, sweetiepie.” She giggled. “Practice! Such a smart boy.” Her hand lowered back to the countertop and resumed its back-and-forth gliding. He almost started as the other swooped in from the side to gently cup his cheek. “The first time you get dropped, y’see, is really the very hardest. After that?”

She wanted him to answer.

“I-It’s… easier?” he whispered.

“That’s right, sleepy boy.” She beamed. “It gets easier and easier. Every time. Easier. And easier. And easier.”

Something about this was wrong. He began to push himself back, pulling away from the hand. “I-I should… sorry, I need to—”

“Dizzy.”

Another sudden wave of swirling, whirling fog rushed in. Veneri nearly fell backward out of his chair, but Hestia’s hand caught him by the tunic’s collar and pulled him back in.

She hadn’t been standing on the counter before, had she?

He stared at her breasts. They were so big, especially compared to her little frame, with her cleavage so nicely bared by that flattering, form-fitting dress… the light pink flush beginning to spread across them lending comforting warmth to the heavenly pale blues…

Throb.

Her eyes flicked down, and she gave him a big grin. Her hand patted his cheek.

“Looks like you’re staying put after all,” she cooed down at him.

“Buh…” His head wobbled. “I… m-maybe. Maybe just for a…”

“Now, sweetiepie, I have just one more question.” Her voice pooled into every pause, filled every silence, as if whatever he’d been about to say just wasn’t important, just didn’t even exist anymore. “A question about dreams.”

“Wh… um… dreams?” He blinked twice, and then he managed a frown. This was… all off. Hestia was being too… he was too sleepy to handle this, he needed… “No, look, I-I gotta…”

“That’s riiight~!” She raised one finger to point towards his left eye, then drew a slow, deliberate arc to his right. The painted nail glittered and glowed, and for a moment he felt like he could see a tiny fire alighting from it. The flame flickered before his confused gaze. “You gotta focus, sweetiepie. Focus on the question. Fooocus.” Her finger trailed back to his left. Then back to his right. Bobbing from eye to eye, flickering, fluttering… “Thaaat’s it~”

“I… um…” Veneri’s head swam to and fro with that finger. His eyelids felt heavier and heavier. If he could just… just wait this out, let her finish, then he could leave… “… q-question…?”

“About dreams, sleepy boy.” The finger wove little circles of fire before his eyes, drew little hearts in the air. Behind it, he could just make out a gleeful, knowing smirk. “Do you ever have dreams you don’t really remember, but that still sort of manage to… stick?”

His eyes followed the finger. Such a pretty, delicate finger, sparkling with such pretty pink flames… “No,” he mumbled, reluctant to agree… he just had to answer the question, and then he could go…

“No? Are you sure?” Hestia giggled, licking her lips. He could dimly see how their sparkling wetness let them reflect the flames. “You’ve never woke up from a dream and felt a little… sad? Or angry? And not remembered why?”

“O-Oh.” He blinked. The finger wove in a pretty little figure-eight, and he had to focus to follow its path, even though—no, he shouldn’t follow it, it was— “Y-Yeah, um… sometimes…?”

“Have you ever woken up and felt embarrassed?” Her voice swept him along like a swift, winding river, refusing to slow down, refusing to give him any chances to come up for air. “Maybe towards someone in particular? You see ‘em and you just immediately get all blushy and stammery, and you don’t really know why, silly boy, dummy boy, cutie little dreamy boy…” Her voice simmered and crackled like the rosy flame sparkling between them. “… but you instantly know that dream was about her?”

“Uh… uh-huh…” His voice was a dumb, sluggish mumble. He nodded stupidly, squirming in embarrassment.

“Dreams that pull you in so deep, make you feel so many fuzzy, sticky emotions…” Back and forth the finger swept. Flickering. Glowing brighter. Her other hand was sliding up his shirt, feeling him up casually. Behind the finger and the flames, her tits were jiggling and bouncing with silent laughter. “… but then you wake up, and it all just melts into the back of your silly, sleepy head. And all that sticks is those nice, simple emotions. That blushy, gooey embarrassment. You’re left all silly and bashful and dreamy and dumb, and you don’t quiiite remember why.”

“I… y-yeah…” He was blushing so hot. Everything felt so hot, and so gooey, and sticky, and…

“And you just forget aaall the rest,” she cooed. “The rest’s just vague, silly nothings, just a blurry fog of weakness. No need to remember for a silly little dreamer like you.”

He stared helplessly. His head tried to shake.

“No need to remember.” The finger swung like a pendulum. Slow and even. Flicker. Flash. “Just a nice, soft, gooey dream. A dream that sticks.”

He nodded again, dizzy and silly, staring at the pretty finger. A dream. Just a dream… “I… I, uh…”

“And there’s nothing you can do in a dream, is there, sleepy boy?” Her voice was wrapping around him tighter and tighter. He felt himself nodding again. “You just sit back and let it happen, like a good little dummy docile dreamer.”

His cock throbbed. Nothing he could…

“Just submit,” she purred. “Obey.”

Okay… wait, but…

“A dream that sticks,” Hestia sang, licking her lips, “while the rest sinks away.”

She brought the finger to those beestung lips and blew upon it. Veneri was leaning in so close, he could feel the breath against his cheek.

The fire went out, and the finger stopped twirling. He followed it anyways for a moment, feeling strangely drawn in deeper. He was leaning closer and closer… staring at the finger…

And then it went towards her hair.

His head spun. Sudden awareness started trickling in. “W. Wait.”

“While the rest,” she whispered, giggling softly, “just drops away.”

“W-Wait, don—!”

Her finger began to twirl within her locks of thick, lustrous navy-blue hair, forming glimmering spools of starless night in the light shed by her glowing golden eyes. Twirling and spinning and…

… he felt something sinuous caressing his neck. A… tail…?

Twirl… twirl… up, and up, and…

“While the rest,” she cooed, bringing her other hand right in front of his forehead and bracing thumb against middle finger, “just.

“Drops.”

... down.

SNAP!