"I truly cannot thank you enough!" Arlie brushed a stray lock of golden hair from her eyes and curtseyed again compulsively.

"Don't mention it!" The tinker laughed, shaking their head ruefully. "Look, in honest, don't!" They gestured to their cluttered cart. "You did me a favor givin' me something to listen to aside from the pans, miss."

Arlie giggled. "Oh, well, certainly!"

"I'm more worried about leavin' you on your lonesome." The tinker frowned, scanning the treeline around them. "The Greatest, Darkest Forest ain't a place for wandering strays. You sure you don't wanna come back to the town with me?" They gestured with their hook hand to the left path.

Arlie shook her head. "Thank you," she said earnestly, "it is very kind of you to offer! But I am hoping to make it to a coastal port, and your town is in the opposite direction!"

"Well, I do worry." The tinker bit their lip. "There's all kinds of dangers on the road, y'know."

Arlie couldn't suppress a sly grin. "I am quite confident that I can take care of myself, but I appreciate your concern!" She curtseyed once more and turned to go. "Thank you again! Good luck on the trip home!"

"I'm more worried about you gettin' lost!" the tinker called after her. "I'm not sure you know where you're actually headed! But, uh... good luck, I s'pose!"

Arlie rolled her eyes good-naturedly as she picked her way down the rocky trail.

Honestly. 'Getting lost.' As far as she'd come on her journey before meeting the tinker, the thought of her getting lost in some little forest was laughable to her.

~ ~ ~ ~

Arlie was lost in the Greatest, Darkest Forest.

The blonde traveler put a dainty, manicured finger to her pouty lips, considering the treetops. This forest was trickier than she'd expected. Certainly, it wasn't so dark—well, it was, but Arlie had pretty good night vision and there was plenty of natural sunlight filtering through the dense canopies—and it wasn't so especially twisted or frightening. Arlie had seen far worse.

And in fact, the forest was quite pleasant! The plants growing around her were exotic and strange—massive tufts with spiky leaves lining the stems like the feathers of a strange bird, stalks covered with colorful trumpet-shaped blossoms, and even a great old pine tree that appeared to be laden with signposts.

Granted, the latter was kind of her primary problem right now.

She pouted, staring up and frowning at the hanging signposts. Yes. That was a problem.

She had come to a fork in the worn rocky path. To the left, the path climbed up a steep incline, appearing to run alongside a winding babbling brook that disappeared underneath the path ahead. The path ahead rose in a kind of half-natural bridge, reinforced with countless layered riverstones, and traveled on to what looked like a more clear area. Lighter. Brighter. She nodded slightly, considering it. That had some appeal after this darkness. Especially since she wasn't sure how much daylight she really had left around here.

To the right, the path wound downward, away at a sharp angle from the other two paths. She wasn't sure what to make of a path so rugged and craggy. It looked like the kind of path one would follow to get to a cave full of vicious half-skeletal shriekbears or something.

But, she reflected, scowling back up at the sign tree, she wasn't sure which path she actually needed to take anymore.

Because it appeared that someone had gotten into the habit of stealing signposts.

She squinted. She could make out at least three different designs up there—all counterfeits, it seemed, or at least they had to be, because each one gave slightly different directions. Someone was messing with the path on purpose! Trying to get people lost.

She almost couldn't understand why anyone would bother with that. It really was too bad, in fact, she thought, shaking her head slightly. What was the point in causing that kind of distress to harmless travelers? Why would you try to divert them? They'd just end up filtering among the three paths at random, so it wasn't like you could guarantee they'd get dangerously lost. Why not put in a fake sign, and direct them henceforth to the most dangerous direction?

She swallowed, glancing at the extremely menacing path. Thorny briars and loose rocks covered the path, and she did not envy anyone who chose to walk it barefoot.

This was a problem. She honestly had no idea where she was really supposed to go, and more seriously, she had no idea where she was really going. Arlie liked to think of herself as a fairly linear person, as a rule. She was a good guest. When the people of a land told her to go east, she was happy to go east as long as she trusted they had a good reason for it. When the people of a land told her to stay out of the cursed barrows, she was happy to respect the wishes of the locals.

But when, she thought, biting her lip, a friendly tinker had told her she was liable to get lost, apparently she had taken for granted that they didn't really know what they were talking about. But in fairness, it felt like a reasonable thing to take for granted that a single fork would necessitate only one or two signposts!

"I mean, who even does something like this?" she muttered aloud, shaking her head ruefully. A terrible sadist, clearly. Someone who wanted to torment people, and nothing else.

Or perhaps, she thought, and her heart gave a little uncertain flutter, this was a deliberately targeted effort to mislead a specific traveler. Not her, surely. Nobody would know to expect ther, and even if they did, why would anyone want to...?

No. She shook her head. No, that wouldn't have any sense. Besides, once again, surely there were better ways to satisfy a petty grudge than to seek to terribly and cruelly inconvenience a traveler by forcing them to guess between three options.

Could there be a fourth location? A fourth option? It could stand to reason, surely. It could stand to reason that there could be a fourth path, a way that was being concealed. But what fourth option could there be? Arlie didn't know a lot about local magical abilities, but anyone who could actually glamour out of visibility a fourth pathway between the other three wouldsurely possess the basic magical knowhow—or even fundamental common sense, for pity's sake—to conceal the twenty-odd direction signs hanging not twenty feet above her head!

It was a prank, she decided at last. A childish little prank to annoy travelers. She scowled up, hands sliding down to wide hips. She was almost indignant. The signmakers had clearly put great care into those signs, and to see them so flagrantly stolen by someone who clearly had very little appreciation for this really spoke to a meanspirited kind of attitude that...

She shook herself a little. This didn't really matter. She had places to be and explore and people to talk to and learn about. She had had a long day, and one random unpleasant prank didn't justify getting into a tizzy.

Still. Her tongue thrust into her cheek. She couldn't help but think... perhaps she could just go up there and retrieve the signs, for future travelers' sakes, and try to puzzle out which one was the real one, and put it back in the place where it...

She was interrupted in her thoughts by a loud curse—at least, she assumed from inflection and palpable anger that it was a curse, for the viciousness of the tone spoke greater volumes than the actual syllables—coming from the right path.

Arlie jumped, spinning to look down the ragged way. She hesitated, but only for a second. That shout sounded distinctly distressed.

She hurried down the path, paying no more heed to the signs as her attention shifted to avoiding stepping on anything cragged or jagged or pointy.

~ ~ ~ ~

Arlie was a little surprised to discover a rather mundane, ordinary sight awaiting her. She had expected some kind of... well, perhaps a terrible crisis afoot, some manner of fey mischief, from the brutality of the oath.

But indeed, it was nothing of the sort. Indeed, all she could see was a handsome young man with honey-gold hair in ringlets and soft turquoise eyes scowling down at the wrecked wheel of his little cart. A lantern glimmered next to him on the cart, and a curious necklace was strung around his neck by silver chain—some sort of little loupe, it seemed.

She hesitated, appraising him. Since her arrival in the area, it had been... rather firmly impressed on her, several times, that she was too inclined to trust people. It was smart to check and make sure people were strictly safe before you tried to, well, 'hail and well-met' them.

Then again, this man seemed nice enough.

"Hail and well-met!" she called, raising a hand in greeting with a big, open smile. It was smart, but it wasn't really her style to be paranoid of strangers.

The stranger gave a start, looking up sharply at her. Initially, Arlie almost regretted her bravado—the man was handsome, but had a certain serrated quality to his gaze, a guarded bite, that almost made her feel like he was examining her as a threat.

His eyes grazed over her, seeming to linger ever-so-slightly over her slender, buxom form, her pronounced curves, the swell of her hips... And then, to her relief, his lips parted in a wide smile, his gaze turned gentle, and he returned the wave—perhaps a tiny bit ironically, but Arlie wasn't a good judge of such things, and he certainly seemed earnest enough! "And to you as well, my good lady! I apologize if you, ah—" He gestured ruefully to the cart. "—heard anything unseemly coming from me a moment ago. It seems I've had some bad luck."

"So it seems!"

"Yes, well." He turned and sketched a short bow to her, still smiling. "My name is Garend, madam. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance on the road. My eyes have grown weary of carts and stones and thistles, and you're a much softer sight, if I may say so, for them to rest on."

A little excessively flirty, but, well, Arlie couldn't help but be a little delighted at his courtly manner. It was quite distinct and new compared to the easy-going manner of the men and women of the small towns and villages in the area, and she loved all things distinct and new. She found herself curtseying, her lacy white dress fluttering around her. She couldn't help but try to match his manner. "My name is Arlie, 'my good sir.'" She giggled. "It's a pleasure! It's been a lonely walk so far in this forest."

"Really! Well, I envy you that, I suppose." He smiled slightly, though there was a distinct rueful quality to that smile. "I have to be honest with you, that would be a stroke of luck for me."

"Oh." Initially, Arlie wondered if he was trying to hint something to her. But the man was all smiles. Surely he'd give some clearer indication if he wanted her gone, right? "In what regard?"

"Fey troubles." He grimaced, gesturing to the broken-down cart. "They love to give me hassle. Real pieces of work, I'm afraid. No respect for an officer of the law these days."

"Really?" Arlie glanced back at where she'd come from. "That would explain the... the bit of mess back there."

"Oh, yeah." He nodded eagerly. "Right? Luckily, I had a map, because I can tell you, that would have confused me elseways. But I'm fairly certain they're doing their level best to make my life a living hell."

Arlie frowned. She didn't know much of the fey around here, but that did sound a little harsh. "Why would they be doing that?"

"Fey are... fey." He shrugged, glancing around them. "In all honesty, nobody knows why fey do anything. They just do what's fun. The locals around here mostly put up with it, but... well, I'm from Nyaska." He grinned. "I'm accustomed to people showing some general respect to my personal belongings, you know?"

"Certainly." She nodded, not exactly certain where Nyaska was—though she was sure she'd heard it before. "So... you said you are a law enforcement officer? I didn't know they had those around... around here."

"Oh, I'm on a bit of a trip." He gestured around them grandly, expression going coolly neutral. "Kind of a holiday, I suppose, though as you can see... no shortage of fun to be had on the road, so it's going well!"

He laughed good-naturedly. She giggled. At least he was taking it in stride. "Well, you're doing better than me, in all honesty." She ducked her head shyly. "I must be completely honest, sir Garend—I don't even happen to have any idea where we are at present."

He blinked. "Really! That must be a bit of challenge, considering you're traveling along in a massive shadowy forest."

"It's inconvenient!" she nodded, smiling slightly.

"And where were you trying to go?"

"A port town." She tilted her head, and reached up to brush a stray lock of golden hair from her eyes... as she tried to get a look behind him at the cart. "Did you say you had a map, sir?"

"I did." He smiled. "And a very high-quality one, too. It has all the really important information on it. Those are hard to come by—especially ones with up-to-date Ranger lodges, you know."

"Oh, of course!" She nodded, though she had very little idea what he was talking about. She hadn't heard maps were so hard to come by at all, but clearly, the maps she'd seen villagers selling weren't as accurate as the one he had. "I don't suppose... perhaps we could do a little trade?"

"A trade?" He blinked. "Well, now, there's a thought. You're full of ideas!"

His fingers were playing over his vest, and with the little delicate loupe on his necklace. In the light of the lantern, the glass glintered and glimmered like a little mirror.

She giggled, though she wasn't sure what he really meant. "Well, I only mean, because I'm... well, I seem to have gotten..."

"A little lost?" he offered, his smile widening slightly.

She felt her cheeks heating up slightly. "Yes," she admitted. "A little lost. I mean, I haven't a map, and I haven't... been in this area before."

"Oh?" He kept fiddling with the necklace. It was a little distracting, honestly, but Arlie felt it would be a little rude to ask a nice fellow to stop fidgeting for her sake. "Not from around here?"

"No."

"From the big city, maybe? Like me?" He took a step closer, tilting his head. "You definitely don't look like you're from around here."

Arlie bit her lip. She wasn't exactly sure how to respond to that question, so she just shrugged. "I'm from a ways away. I don't think you've heard of it. But... not a city."

"It must be frightening," he remarked, glancing back at the cart. "I mean, here I am worried about fey mischief, but at least I know this area. At least I have a map. You're quite misplaced, aren't you?"

His fingers caught the chain and held the loupe up slightly. He was certainly getting a little fidgety. And his voice sounded a little... condescending to Arlie. Arlie frowned. "I can assure you," she said, a little primly, trying to put this man in his place a little and remind him of his manners, "I am quite deliberately here. I just..."

"You just don't know where here is. I've got you" he beamed. "Of course, of course. This is exactly where you want to be."

"It is." She nodded slightly. The little glass glinted as it caught the firelight, and she blinked rapidly as several brilliant colors shot off of it in a tiny little prism of light. "I'm..." She licked her lips. "I'm where I mean to be, I mean to say."

"You don't know where it is, though."

"N-No." She frowned. Garend was speaking in an easy, silky-smooth voice, like pouring honey, and it was strangely hard to focus on things outside his words, or the glinting loupe. "No, I... I don't know where... I mean, that's why I need the map."

"Of course." He gave her a charming, winning smile. "You're not lost, per se. After all, you want to be here, don't you?"

"Mm-hm."

The loupe glimmered. Flickered. Flashed with colors. "You want to be here. This is where you want to be?"

"... yes..." She tried to blink, but the thought of blinking didn't... it didn't seem to quite connect with her eyes. She tried to frown, but she couldn't even quite... "I mean... yes... I mean..."

"Yes?" He laughed softly.

His words slowly echoed in her mind. She stared dimly, absently. "Yes..."

His smile widened. "You're happy here."

"I..." She wasn't sure how to answer that. But the word kept echoing in her head. "... happy... here..."

"I thought so." He smirked. The loup glimmered. Flickered. Flashed. "You like being here with me, after all, don't you?"

"Um." She tried to frown, tried to shake her head slightly. But the pretty colors kept dazzling her.

"Happy to be here," he purred. The loupe began to swing on the chain, and she felt oddly calm. Washy. Her head swam and swayed in time. "Happy to be here."

"Happy..." Oh. Arlie tried to frown again and managed what probably looked like a very confused pout, judging by his laughter. "... wait..."

"Happy to be here," he cooed. "You're happy to be here, silly girl. You're not lost."

She kept trying to think, kept trying to shake her head. But her head only bobbed with the loupe as her thoughts seemed to follow its motion. The flashes were so... so very...

"Not... lost..." she heard herself whisper in a daze. "I... no, I..."

"Not lost at all," he said, shaking his head slightly. "You're where you need to be now."

"Mm." His voice filled her with comfort. So sweet. So warm. So gentle. "Where... I... need..." She bit her lip. "No, I... you shouldn't..."

"Exactly," he murmured, as his fingers caressed her dimpled cheek delicately, and she whimpered at the touch, "where my lost thing needs to be found."

"I... nnn..." She knew she needed to look away. She was breathing heavily, now, as he moved closer. He was so handsome. So... so very... easy to listen to... "Don't..." she managed.

"Don't what?" He laughed, his little laugh like windchimes. "Silly girl. Don't what?"

"I..." She watched the glass swing. "I, um..." Twirl. Spin. Flash. "I don't..."

"So easy to sink," he said softly, continuing to caress her cheek, fingers slowly stroking down her neck, over her shoulder. His touches were so dainty, so delicate and playful, almost teasing. Arlie felt her heart racing, even as her mind, her thoughts, seemed to be slowing to the speed of amber. "My sweet girl, isn't it easy to sink into the light?"

Sink into the light. It was easy, she had to admit, feeling that oozing feeling of comfort, of ease, of desire, filtering through her. It was... oh, goodness, she couldn't... it was too easy to sink...

"Watch it twirl," he whispered, "and feel your thoughts spinning, so dizzy, so dizzy."

She watched. Arlie felt her thoughts spin. Spiraling out of control. She swayed, eyelids fluttering, as his fingers grazed over her chest, greedy, wicked, delightful touches, tugging at her dress. "Mm... d-dizzy..."

It felt so nice. So easy. She knew she had to... knew this was a bad... a very bad idea... but it felt so, so easy... and his fingers felt so... so...

"Watch the colors shine," he cooed, "and feel so sparkly and silly, so empty, so filled with nothing but sunbeams and rainbows..."

"Sparkly." She giggled distantly, squirming slightly in her trance as she felt his fingers playing along her wide hip, and oh, oh, goodness, she was starting to feel... to feel...

She bit her lip. No, she told herself desperately, even as her self-control oozed from her emptying mind like honey from a shattered hive. She needed to focus. Needed to... to keep the glamour intact...

"Good girl," he breathed, and she could barely contain her excitement as he started to slide his hand up her billowing white dress, up her thigh, and she felt his fingers touching her bare skin, and she whimpered with excitement. She felt her cheeks burning, and oh, goodness, she was getting... so... turned on...

No, she tried to insist, as she felt her inhibitions failing her, because it felt so good, so delightful, so easy... No, I mustn't...

"Good girl," he repeated, and her last shards of self-control began to splinter, melt, dissolve... "Gooood girl. Such a pretty thing. You want to help me, don't you?"

His voice was like silk. Like syrup. Sticky, gooey syrup. She felt her mind slowly dissolving into dreamy static as his hand left the loupe and went to her chin, gently guiding her to look up. She realized her lips were half-parted as he stroked them gently.

She stared into his beautiful turquoise eyes, her own eyes wide and filled with stars.

"H-Help you," she breathed.

"Yes," he purred, smirking. His fingers began to stroke along the edge of her lingerie, and she gasped at the touch. "I could use some company on the road, you see. And the fey are off-limits, it seems, so..."

He leaned in close. He smelled... nice. Like cinnamon. "You want to help me," he purred, "don't you, sweet thing?"

She stared at him, wide-eyed.

Slowly, she began to smile.

"Yes," she said, her own voice turning silky. "Yes, I think I will, Garend."

~ ~ ~ ~

Garend licked his lips, smiling in triumph. Goodness, how easily this pretty thing had fallen. He couldn't help but take a moment to admire her, because she was gorgeous. The second he'd seen her, he'd initially wondered if she was another fey looking for payback. She was breathtaking, and in a way that only fey and demons could usually be. But she wasn't. She was clearly quite human—all too tragically so.

He caressed her hip with his free hand, loving the adorable way she jumped at that slight contact, as if she wasn't accustomed to being touched like an object. He smirked. She would get used to it soon enough. After all, an officer of the law was entitled to some company on the road, and she was clearly so wonderfully eager to help him...

"You're going to be good?" he cooed, teasing her, as his eyes drank in that needy, desperate look in her eyes, that bright sunset-pink flush to her cheeks. From his fingertips gliding over her panties, he could tell that she was frantically trying to hide how badly she wanted him.

Wanted his touch.

Unfortunately for her, he thought, suppressing a laugh, Garend of the Jeweled Flicker was known for being more than a little bit of a tease. His hand traced down over the swell of her perfect breasts, and he could barely contain the thrill of excitement.

"Yes," he heard her whisper, and he could tell she was craving the kiss he was promising, but he was lost in the way she squirmed right into the touch. His fingers grazed her pert nipple through the fabric of her dress. She thrust her chest out. "Oh, yes, yes, boy!"

"So easy," he teased, watching her lower lip quiver as he leaned a little closer. He wasn't going to kiss her yet, of course. He watched her pupils dilate as he kept stroking delicately through her panties, and he wondered just how long he could—

And then he felt something long, soft and sinuous slither right around his neck.

He blinked.

And Arlie giggled. "It is!" she bubbled, and leaned in to kiss him.

Garend was taken aback by the hunger and passion in the kiss. He was overwhelmed by a dozen sensations at once, in fact—the feeling of her soft, plump, luscious lips, her gaze filling his mind, her tongue thrusting into his mouth. Her moans and whimpers and the sound of her lips greedily smacking against his own filled his ears as her hands, formerly limp at her sides, now wrapped around him.

He moaned, trying to get himself to pull away. But for some reason, he couldn't quite connect the thought to the deed.

Her embrace just felt so good. So wonderful. So easy to sink into the kiss, into the touch. Maybe it just felt too wonderful to break away. Maybe the kiss was simply too intoxicating, too wonderful. He trembled, suddenly unsure.

Maybe it was the strange tentacle that had just wrapped around his neck and the back of his head to hold him captive in her arms.

At least, she pulled away, grinning. He stared at her, wide-eyed, suddenly feeling strangely... weak.

And his heart soared into his throat as he realized he was gazing upon an angel.

Her golden hair shown in the dim twilight like it was filled with stars, like someone had stolen a thousand suns and spun their rays into pure gold, like someone had captured the honey from a Thriae Hive and turned it into the sleekest, sweetest candy imaginable and stretched and pulled it into thousands of delicate strands to hang from the head of the most beautiful, breathtaking creature he had ever seen. Her eyes shone a brilliant amber, and her body was as supple and slender and buxom as ever, pressed against him, promisingly, almost needily.

Her dimpled cheeks were a bright scarlet, and he realized she was very, very horny right now. He'd teased her a little too well.

But taken as he was by her hair and eyes, he was very, very distracted by the wings.

Two feathery, faintly translucent wings fluttered behind her back, pulsing with a faint silver glow. He stared at them dumbly, barely comprehending. The feathers looked as soft and silky as if plucked from the down of a swan's chest.

His eyes drifted downwards, still overwhelmed by new sights, and he saw the tentacles. Two pairs of glimmering silver-lavender tentacles, almost ethereal in the light shining from the beautiful being, pulsing with their own dazzling light.

One of those tentacles was currently wrapped around his head and neck and shoulders, holding him quite captive—and, he realized, that tentacle had looped once more around his chest, and was now holding him aloft—hanging helplessly above her.

"Wh-what—" He stared, lost in her. Her light dazzled him, almost blinded him. "What are you—how are you—this—"

"Hoi, Garend." She giggled, fingers daintily over her lips in a gesture of almost courtly coquettishness. "Sorry to startle you like this, but... well, you've gotten me all excited now."

She started to beat those wings, rising up into the air, lifting him along with her up into the treetops.

"W-Wait!" he cried, still dazed from the kiss, feeling strangely fuzzy, thoughts swirling towards a sweet, seductive calm, "Wait, what are you—"

"How about we," she purred, putting a finger to his lips as they rose up into the canopy, "find someplace a little more... private?"

He stared helplessly, squirming in the tentacles' grasp as he was lifted higher into the air. "How..." Garend blinked rapidly. "H-How are you..."

"Shh." She smirked, leaning in and kissing him. He squirmed in her embrace, but the tentacles held him tightly. The angelic being's shimmering form was positively blinding. She pulled back, fingers stroking down his neck, undoing the buttons of his shirt. "No need for words, sweetie," she cooed. "No need to think."

Garend's vision was blurring. He could feel more tentacles starting to stroke over his body, slipping under his shirt, under his trousers, and every touch sent delightful, mind-numbing tingles through his body. "I..." he slurred. He stared dumbly into her shimmering eyes as the tentacles—which, he realized, seemed to have little mouth-like openings at their ends—planted little 'kisses' along his naked sides.

"I..." He bit his lip. No need for words, echoed her sweet voice. "N-No..."

As they 'kissed' him, his whole world felt like it was melting into pleasure. He trembled, watching as the effervescent being leaned in close again, wrapping her legs around his thighs, straddling him in midair. "Be a good boy," she purred, and his eyes widened as he realized her clothes seemed to have melted away.

As had his.

"I..." He tried to shake his head. No. This couldn't be happening. Couldn't be real. Couldn't... couldn't...

She shimmered. She was so soft, he thought, quivering as he felt soft, fluffy wings slowly wrapping around them both. So... bright...

"You'll be good?" she whispered, pouting seductively.

He tried to manage words. More little 'kisses' tingled his thoughts away. His thoughts grew fuzzier and fuzzier.

So soft. Pressed against him, held within the pulsing feathery cocoon. So soft. So beautiful. Such beautiful eyes. Her legs wrapped around him, his cock so sensitive, longing for her touch...

He was drowning. Drowning in lights. Drowning in softness, in fluffy feathers and in stroking and in her tender, loving embrace. He whimpered.

And judging by her sly smile, she could tell."You'll be good?" the angel asked for the last time, stroking his cheek, voice and touch alike as delicate as a butterfly's wingbeats.

He was lost in touch. Lost in promised pleasure. He could barely keep the words in.

And she leaned in close. "You'll be good," she cooed.

It was no longer a question.

Vaguely, helplessly, he felt himself nodding.

And she beamed, adjusted herself, and plunged herself onto his cock.

Garend moaned and cried out in unexpected ecstasy, thrashing wildly. She rose and fell, bouncing in his lap, her own thick eyelashes fluttering with pleasure. But it was nothing compared to what Garend was feeling. His mind felt like molten honey as the wings pulsed around him, keeping him trapped in a cocoon of pure soft bliss.

As the pleasure climbed, he could feel the tingles suffusing his whole mind, his whole world. Vaguely, it felt like... like spiderwebs settling around his thoughts. But he couldn't think about that.

Couldn't think about anything.

Anything but the soft wings, the touches, the pleasure, and Arlie's beautiful, shining eyes.

And as he came, she seized him in a passionate kiss, and the would-be hypnotist melted completely into her power.

~ ~ ~ ~

Arlie gave a slight smile as she pulled back, fluttering in midair, watching as Garend trembled in the grasp of the lingering visions the tentacles were putting into his head.

She hated to admit it, she thought, biting her lip with excitement, but that had been satisfying.

Slowly, she fluttered to the ground, gently setting Garend back in his cart. She sat next to him and stroked his hair, unable to resist a little fondness as the poor boy squirmed and came again from her tentacles' ministrations.

Poor boy. Maybe this little embarrassment would teach him a lesson.

If not... well, she gave a tiny nod of her head as she mentally completed the little lock in his mind. Being sealed off from using hypnosis for a while would hopefully teach some conscience.

"You won't be able to make people do what you want to anymore," she said sweetly. "You'll have to actually be nice to people if you want to get by. Doesn't that sound better, anyways?"

He moaned faintly and shifted, eyelids fluttering.

She sighed. "Well, you will have plenty of time to come around."

The child of Ilyrias concentrated and forced her image back to her human form. She almost thought about erasing his memory of her form entirely—the last thing she wanted was a host of rumors about her kind causing trouble in the area—but she decided against it. A little too invasive, a little too risky, messing with memories. Hopefully he'd just assume she was a fey or demon or witch whose powers went well beyond him.

As she was getting up, Arlie noticed something in his back pocket. Her eyes lit up.

"Ooh!" She bent over and extracted a crinkled parchment scroll. "Please be a map, please be a map, please be—" She unrolled it and grinned.

For all his talk, Garend's map honestly didn't seem that fancy to her. But it was a map. Arlie found herself positively skipping away as she read it eagerly. Finally, a stroke of luck!

The blonde stopped short a few meters off, pouting down at the map. Okay, so she had absolutely zero idea where she was on this thing.

~ ~ ~ ~

Resin blinked down from her hidden tree hollow as she watched the... curious creature depart the scene. She brushed her long, wiry green hair from her heavy-lidded emerald eyes.

She'd thought about getting involved when she'd seen that ass up to his tricks on this newcomer, but that curious glow had given her pause. Now she knew where it was from, and she had more questions than answers.

The pine dryad pouted a moment, then shrugged. Meh. Who cares?

She grinned evilly down at the incapacitated hypnotist as she sent the message through the rustling leaves and pine needles around her. And she swept down to the ground.

That angel-thing had no idea the kind of delicious satisfaction the fey were going to extract from their newly de-fanged foe.