She stared in bewilderment as the voice and Seeker both ignored her, talking to each other. She couldn’t quite hear what they were saying at this distance, but they both looked very unhappy.

As she sat there, she winced when more vines started to grow. Tendrils of sticky, cold plant shot out of the ground, wrapping around her legs and growing up along her arms like she was a statue that had stood there for decades.

Seeker turned to look at her for a moment, then continued talking to the voice, looking and sounding angrier. The voice started to walk around Seeker, and… was it touching her? She didn’t like that at all. She should be touching Seeker, not this… this green-haired voice.

Why was Seeker tolerating this? What was the point? She knew Seeker only had eyes for her, she’d told her so. Hells, what was she even doing here? She’d gone for a walk and… and then her memories got fuzzy. But Seeker was there now, and she wasn’t cutting her free from these plants.

And these plants, they just didn’t stop. They kept growing, and they just stuck to her no matter what she did. Struggling didn’t work, it was like trying to punch her way through toffee. It had too much give, too much elasticity to put enough force into any one vine to sever it.

They crept up her neck, and onto her face, and she did not like it. “Seeker,” she mewled, trying to get the Heartwarden she so adored to snap out of whatever she was busy with. She didn’t even look at her.

Looking down at herself, she could see the vines were starting to flower. Little buds sprouted, and bloomed into perfect pink blossoms that puffed pollen out into the breeze. First at her ankles and wrists, and-

Was Seeker eating fruit?! Why in all the gods’ names would she let this voice feed her, why had she let this voice feed her? The flowers advanced up the vines like they themselves had crept up her body. As one puffed pollen into the air, the wind carried a few motes of it up to her face. It made her sneeze, and… she got dizzy again. It smelled just like the voice did.

The next flower shot out pollen, this one a little closer to her face. She held her breath as it wafted past, but it still made her nose tingle. On and on it went, vines flowering and puffing pollen into the world, each one higher up along her body than the last, until eventually the vines on her face themselves sprouted flowers, and they too started to puff out their pollen. The first one mostly wafted away, but enough of it wound up in her nose to make her throat itch and her eyes water. That pressure built, and she sneezed once more. Then, when that wasn’t enough to relieve her, she took a deep breath to do it again, just in time for the final flower to burst open, and the entire mass of pollen to be inhaled.

She coughed, and spat, trying to get it out, but… but… all the gods, she was so dizzy. She… did Seeker want her to… to go through this? Was it like… like that morning? It sure felt like it. The vines holding her in place receded, disappearing back into the ground. She… she couldn’t breathe right, her nose was… was completely stuffed. And… and… and Seeker was on the ground, too, just like… just like…

She tried to crawl to her, to help her somehow. That was her job, she had to protect Seeker when she needed it. But it was so, so difficult. The vines were gone, but moving was almost impossible, regardless. Her arms were so heavy, and her eyes felt so… so dry.

“You should lie down, dummy,” purred the voice, and as soon as she heard it, she agreed. She should just lie down. Seeker would be fine, and… and she would…

She would… she…

She passed out.

Mischief let out a sigh of relief when Seeker’s mortal collapsed into an oblivious stupor. They would have to do… a lot of work to keep Seeker from piecing together what had happened here, but at least the problem wasn’t getting worse anymore.

They blinked several times. The world was fuzzy, obscured by the haze that was consuming them. The colors of the world were out of focus and seemed to turn paler, the vibrance of the dryad’s vale turning dull and brown, like a painting covered in bad varnish.

In the corner of their eye, though, they caught a hint of the one thing that wasn’t fading into the drab. Veris. She practically shone in contrast, vibrant and beautiful, like she was lit by direct sunlight and the rest of the world was hidden behind clouds.

“My, my,” she purred. “I wasn’t sure my Fruit would work on you, your grace.”

“Because I let it,” Mischief slurred. They paused for a moment when they heard their own voice, muffled and dull, then giggled. They held up one hand, and pinched an invisible marble. “Jus’ a little.”

Veris came closer, and knelt by their side. Without hesitating, she put her hands on their tight top, and pulled it up and off. They couldn’t even remember how long it had been since they’d been undressed by anyone other than The Lady. Their slight breasts were barely big enough to warrant covering them, they knew, but doing so was traditional at this point. It was part of their mythology, and it made their lovers feel special to see them topless.

Next, the dryad moved on to their shorts. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband, and was just about to pull when they stopped her. “No,” they mumbled. This dryad wasn’t that special. “This is… uhm… to make up for losing out on her, right? So… let’s keep it about making you feel good.”

Veris giggled. It was a magnificent sound, vibrant and rich. “I do like a generous lover.”

Mischief couldn’t pull their eyes away from Veris’s face, lazily looking from her full lips to her lovely eyes, and from the dusting of adorable freckles along her cheeks and nose to the messy dark green hair that framed it all. Veris’s lips moved in a beautiful smile. She was saying things they were starting to struggle to pay attention to, and made sounds that were so lovely that Mischief couldn’t help but let out another little giggle as they swayed on their feet. There were suddenly several soft… things, wrapped around and caressing up and down their body. It was gentle, but forceful enough to make them stumble forwards and into Veris’s soft lips.

Mischief blinked as the soft sensation of Veris’ lips pressed against them hungrily. Veris’ tongue slipped into their mouth, dancing with their own as they hungrily moaned into the sensations, and slipped their eyes shut. She… is a good kisser. Mischief giggled at the thought. Kissing is… really nice…

Mischief couldn’t remember the last time they’d had a kiss like this, so full of passion and desire. But remembering anything at the moment was getting harder and harder. The eons they’d existed were a dull blur that failed to captivate them in contrast to the sharpness of the ongoing moment of delight with Veris. Their whole body was awash in wonderful feelings as they ran their own hands over Veris soft skin.

Mischief wanted… No, Mischief needed to make Veris feel just as good, needed to make her feel even better. Mischief pushed their tongue into Veris’ mouth now, running it along her teeth and exploring every part of their new lover. She tasted so good, like sweet berries and fruit.

Veris’ taste was divine. The thought drew another giggle from Mischief. Divine… What a silly word for silly mortals and… silly mostly-mortals and…The thought fizzled and died when the kiss broke, and a moment later the taste on Mischief’s tongue was different, more fragrant and less fruity, closer to what human bodies tasted and smelled like. It was heady and wonderful. They opened their eyes and found themselves looking up Veris’ toned stomach to her mouth open in a long, low moan. Mischief lowered their gaze and found themselves tongue deep between Veris’s sex. Oh… that’s why the taste changed….

Mischief kept moving their tongue along and between the folds, determined to keep that sound proving Veris’ delight going, wanting it to echo to the heavens above. Mischief blinked at that thought. Earlier, there had been something that they didn’t want the heavens to know…. Something about…

The thought faded away as Veris’s hand tangled in their hair and pulled them tightly against her. Mischief was only too happy to oblige the unspoken command to redouble their efforts. Mischief slipped their hands to Veris’s rear, gripping tight to leverage themselves even deeper. Nothing else mattered but to make Veris’s body positively sing.

Mischief closed their eyes to focus on the sensations, tongue probing, twisting, and twirling with skills borne from millennia of sexual encounters. The briefest flashes of memories swept over their mind, like teaching Consort how to kiss, or showing Haze the joys of indulgent self pleasure. Each little happy thought was simply washed aside by the pulsing arousal thrumming through their body.

A little voice in the back of their head kept on trying to remind them about… something. But it was such a small voice, so drowned out by the storm of bliss swirling through their mind that they could barely even tell it was there.

A louder moan from Veris tore Mischief’s attention away from what little they understood of their own thoughts. Mischief slowly blinked their eyes open to once more look up Veris’ body as she squirmed in delight. Another slow blink and it dawned on Mischief that Veris wasn’t upright anymore. A confused moment of licking while they glanced around made it clear they had tumbled to the ground at some point, and Veris’ vines now crept along and caressed both of their bodies. Something tickled across their chest for a moment before latching onto a nipple. Mischief moaned their delight deep into Veris, thoughts whiting out for a heady moment as an all encompassing bliss radiated outwards from the ministrations of the vine.

The Lady could stand to be this reciprocating… The Lady… Their Lady… That nagging, tiny voice kept trying to tell them something. Something about focusing… About-

A flower atop a second vine latched on to the other nipple and any attempt at thought was suddenly made that much harder. Nothing existed in that moment but radiating waves of white hot bliss coming from their chest, from the vines tickling along sensitive skin.

Another hungry moan filled Mischief’s ears as they continued to lick, continued to devote themselves to the sole pursuit of pleasure. They withdrew their tongue for only a moment before latching their lips upwards to tease Veris’s clit. They pushed their tongue up to lavish the nub of sensitive flesh with swirling licks and gentle bites. Mischief’s eyes slipped shut once more as thoughts left them, nothing but the sensations washing through their body and the whimpering cries for more escaping Veris’s lips. A slow thought dragged itself out of the pink syrup of Mishief’s mind. Whimpering? I can help with that.

The sound of lovemaking filled the glade. Soft desperate moans expelled from Veris’ throat mixed with the wet sounds of lust emanating from her lower body. A happy cloud of sparkly, simplistic thoughts drifted behind Mischief’s closed eyes. I’m being good. A sensation of a thicker vine rubbing between their own legs, pressing up against the material of their shorts as it grinded against them was a reward unto itself. It made them want to move their fingers even faster, to skate their thumb across Veris’s clit with a fervor scarcely seen outside places of worship.

The gears of Mischief’s mind churned slowly at a nagging incongruity. If their thumb was playing with Veris’s clit… What was in their mouth? Forcing one eye open revealed the new position Mischief found themselves in. Pressed atop Veris’s body, mouth greedily suckling Veris’s chest and flicking her tongue across a stiff nipple while Mischief’s fingers teased and toyed and pleasured Veris’s from below. More vines had wrapped themselves along Mischief’s body, small fern-tipped ends brushing along their own sensitive skin and leaving electric tingles of pleasure that kept on building and building.

Mischief could tell Veris was close. That her body was nearly at that razor thin edge between perfect, orgasmic release and the ever building pleasure. Mischief was determined to push Veris over that final line, to give her that grand finish. It only took a moment of concentration to open their connection to a certain part of Ishi’s realm. Slipping just two fingers into nowhere, they felt the warm slippery feeling of lubricant coat them. Sparing a thanks for The Lady’s foresight, they carefully trailed up the warm confines of Veris’ ass until they found what they were looking for.

With a single motion, confidently executed from millenia of practice, Mischief thrust their fingers upwards, slipping into Veris’s ass at the same moment they bit her nipple and pressed hard on her clit. The scream of rapture that ripped through the glade was proof to the world of Veris’s pleasure as her body began to shake and tremble.

Veris’ hips rose up and seemed to buck without her willing them to. The vines tightened their grip along Mischief’s body for a pleasant moment before pulling them away from Veris. They moved as if following some base reflex, and Mischief was tossed off to the side, rolling a few times with lazy giggles until they came to a stop.

Blinking up at the sky, Mischief knew that something had changed. They considered what it might be as their own pleasure began to simmer down without any further stimulation from the vines. Suddenly, it came to them. The Sun looks different..

It had moved, and that meant… something. A long moment of thought later and Mischief pieced it together; time had passed! They giggled to themselves at the silly thought of the passing of time and how obsessed mortals seemed to be with it. Two hours, the little voice in their head chimed in, suddenly much clearer as the fog of lust began to dissipate like morning mist faced with the rising sun.

Mischief frowned. They weren’t sure whether it was a good thing that so much of the last day was simply pink tinged thoughts of bliss and pleasure. Only occasionally did snippets of even just a semblance of awareness crop up in their memories. They’d seemingly blacked out for large swaths of their tumble with the dryad, and Mischief shook their head at the realization.

As they did so, they caught something in the corner of their eye. Not just something, they realized, but Lanri. The mortal was gracelessly sprawled on the grass, caked in sticky vines and skin stained green with chlorophyll. She was snoring softly, utterly oblivious to the world. Mischief couldn’t help but smile at the woman. As messy as she was, there was still an undeniable beauty to her.

“Seeker is lucky to have you,” they whispered.

Seeker’s name elicited a small reaction, a twitch of Lanri’s lips and a momentarily furrowed brow before her face smoothed over once again. Mischief’s smile grew wider upon seeing the reaction. Seeker and Lanri really were absolutely perfect together, they thought.

Further thoughts on the matter were interrupted by a vine coiling around their ankle, and pulling their prone form across the soft grass towards Veris. Despite still being flushed from the climax Mischief had already given her, she seemed to want another bout together. Mischief couldn’t help but to admire the stamina of the dryad, but this little diversion had gone on long enough. Now it was time to end this, and with it end the threat Veris posed to the delicate plans they had woven for Lanri.

Mischief let none of their thoughts and intentions show as Veris pulled them ever closer to her. They feigned still being lost in their stupor, and lazily spread their arms out across the grass, enjoying the sensation with a dopey grin presented for Veris to see. When their fingers brushed against the small, soft lump of Fruit they had been hoping to find, it was a mere triviality to palm it and maintain the role of the blissful lover Veris was expecting.

Mischief threw in a giggle for good measure, and it came more naturally than they would have expected. They supposed they’d enjoyed this far more than they thought they would. But now that the last dregs of the Fruit of Ignorance were seeping away from Mischief’s thoughts, it was time to get to work.

Veris seemed to still be drunk on lust and their aura, and was swaying on her feet much like a flower being pushed about by the wind. Mischief watched as she tried to compose herself with little success, and had to stop themselves from laughing when she started, speech slurred. “It’s.. it’s time for round two… you… you beautiful angel you!”

Vines suddenly pulled Mischief up off the ground, launching them gently to their feet only to be caught by Veris’s warm embrace and soft lips. She kissed Mischief all over, planting pecks on their neck, arms, and chest before she claimed their lips once more. Mischief tangled a hand in the dryad’s green hair and kissed her back, pressing up against her body with a happy purr. As they kissed, Mischief slid their hand down Veris’s cheek. A soft caress that trailed ever further downwards, fingertips skating across the slick skin of her neck, chest, and tummy until they reached their destination. In a well practiced motion, Mischief slid their fingers up to enter Veris, a rapid and relentless pace of precise movements. Veris tried to throw her head back in a moan of bliss but Mischief’s other hand swept up to force Veris back into the kiss. They slipped their tongue into the dryad’s mouth to toy with Veris’s own, and now that they were as close as they’d get, they flared their aura.

Mischief could see Veris’s eyes start to flutter and roll back in her head, her body quivering as she rapidly approached the edge once more. Mischief watched for all the telltale signs of the impending orgasm surging up from inside Veris. They waited for that moment when it was nearly at the crest… And they kept her there, slowing down infinitesimally, rubbing in just a slightly different spot as Mischief finally allowed the kiss to be broken. You’re going to need your mouth for something else in a moment, after all.

Veris’s moan echoed through the glade once more as Mischief broke away. They grinned at the sound, an instinctual, primal whine for more. Veris was needy and desperate, and entirely at the mercy of the pleasure that surged through her body and swamped her mind. Mischief let a giggle escape. She was exactly where Mischief wanted her to be. They leaned in, brushing lips across Veris’s ear before whispering to her, a sultry seductive tone that Mischief knew would sink deeply into Veris’s pleasure addled mind. “You want more, don’t you?” The dryad simply gasped and nodded, and they kept talking, kept goading her on. “You need it. You’d be so frustrated if I just left things here, and doing it yourself just wouldn’t have the right kick,” they said, knowing their aura would make her more suggestible.

Mischief punctuated the end of their sentence with a delicate nibble on Veris’s ear. Veris nodded her assent, and the hand still cradling the back of her head moved with it. “P-please…” she gasped before swallowing loudly.

The dryad was a mess, hair matted with sweat, face sticky and wet with a mix of sweat, tears, and saliva. She stared through them, eyes glazed over and mind elsewhere. Mischief grinned, and brought their hand back from behind her head. They held up the Fruit of Ignorance they’d dropped, then picked back up while being dragged through the grass by Veris’ vines. They only let Veris catch the briefest glimpse of it before they pressed it to her lips.

There was a brief flash of awareness on Veris’ eyes, as the sight of the Fruit and the taste of it pressed against her lips cut through the haze. “All you need to do is bite down, and I’ll give you that release, Veris,” they purred.

There was a moment of hesitation, a brief look that told Mischief she was doing the math, trying to guess what it would do to her. She’d probably never been on the receiving end of what Mischief had stopped her from doing to Lanri. The hesitation lasted a little too long for their liking, so they urged her on with a whispered growl, and a few more touches to the right spots between her legs.

“No thinking about it,” Mischief chided with mock scorn in their voice. “Just do as I say, and bite down. Taste your own medicine, Dummy.”

Then, like the lust addled fool Mischief had coaxed her into being, she bit down and swallowed.

“Good girl,” Mischief purred, still holding the Fruit to the dryad’s lips. “But… it wouldn’t do to waste it, would it? Finish your snack.”

The dryad trembled on her feet, but obeyed, clumsily taking another bite before she slumped into Mischief in a fit of giggles. “I… I feel… ssstrange…” she slurred.

Patiently, Mischief lowered both of them to the grassy floor. Once they were there, they kept the Fruit close to her mouth, letting her finish it one bite at a time. Each one seemed to addle her mind further, draining more and more of the guile and wit that had let her come so close to ensnaring dear Lanri.

It was once the Fruit was completely gone, and the newly minted Dummy obliviously looked around at the world, that an idea occurred to Mischief. A dryad’s pheromones were quite similar to a Heartwarden’s aura, and crucial to how they imprinted on and enthralled the mortals that kept them company. Perhaps, now that Dummy had eaten the fruit, their aura would do the same to her.

That’s one loose end tied up and perhaps a pet of my own… Seeker must be rubbing off on me. On that thought, Mischief’s gaze swept over to where Lanri still laid, by now comfortably curled up, and still asleep under the sun.

Mischief suppressed their aura and peeled their new Dummy off of them, ignoring the needy whines as they made their way to the sleeping mortal. It was time to get her cleaned up, and tie up this last loose end. They knelt by her side, and reached into nowhere to produce a bucket of water, several rags, and soap.

“Get your vines off of her,” Mischief ordered, briefly glancing over their shoulder at their Dummy. She giggled and nodded, and in moments the vines that had coiled up around Lanri receded into the ground. They left behind trails of cold, green goo, which had particles of pollen stuck in it like glitter in glue. “Oh, I definitely can’t let you go back to Seeker looking like this,” they said, before casting a spell to warm the water. They dipped one of the rags and soap into it and then, with a sigh, started to clean her.

They started with her arms, scrubbing them after breaking off the petrified vines that restrained the mortal. The green residue and goo both came off easily, quickly staining the water they were using. Mischief did the work professionally, clinically. They’d had their fun reducing Veris to their Dummy, but this was something that required care, and Lanri was someone they knew better than to overstep their bounds with.

The mortal started to fuss a little by the time Mischief was done with her arms, and moved on to her legs. She mumbled complaints as they worked on her feets and calves, then giggled and smiled once they got closer to her thighs. “Seeker… that’s…”

Mischief kept up their work, moving on to the mortal’s chest and tummy. Bit by bit, the traces of the liberties Veris had taken with her were washed away, and bit by bit, she got closer to waking up. It was as they were cleaning her neck that their Dummy suddenly appeared, wrapping her arms around them from behind in a fit of laughter. “What… you don’t have to play with her! Play with me!” she petulantly demanded. Mischief turned and gave her an exasperated look, and she giggled softly. “Oh, you want to keep going! You are just poaching her. You’re terrible.”

“I’m not poaching, Dummy. I’m cleaning up the mess you—”

“You’re not Seeker,” Lanri said. Mischief turned to look, and saw she’d already risen, and was sitting upright, eyes wide with panic. “Y-you’re that priest!”

Mischief sighed. They would have strongly preferred to get her cleaned and dressed before dealing with the memories of what she saw. “I suppose you won’t mind if I do this twice. Not for long at any rate.”

The mortal looked down at herself, at the green goo that had mostly been washed away, and the wet, soapy cloth in their hands. “What the fuck are you doing to me?!” She demanded.

“What’s best for everyone,” Mischief mumbled as they quickly reached up, and pressed two fingers to the mortal’s forehead. They charged the gesture with Ishi’s power and their intent to put her to sleep, and in an instant, her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed back onto the grass. “I should really teach Seeker how to do that.”

Peck.

Peck, peck. Cluck. Peck.

Lanri groaned, and swatted at whatever was-

Peck.

“Hey, knock it off!” she snapped, as she opened her eyes and kicked the chicken. It chattered and ran away, flapping its wings in panic. “Stupid fucking animals.” Lanri groaned as she moved to sit upright. Where the hell was she? When was she? All she could see was endless hills and bamboo, and a sun that was well past noon already.

She checked herself for injuries, starting by feeling around for blood on her head, then patted herself down. Nothing seemed to hurt beyond being stiff from laying there, and there weren’t any cuts or bruises as far as she could tell. Her mouth was dry and tasted a little like dirt, but… that hardly struck her as abnormal. She was laying on the forest floor, after all.

Her surroundings looked familiar enough, she quickly realized, as she padded the ground around her for her crutch. She was… west-ish of their camp, she’d set off in this direction to… To wait for Seeker to pay attention to her, and…

The thought fizzled out as she felt her crutch. She gripped it, and brought it in front of her to use it to get to her feet, when she saw she’d picked up the wrong stick. This wasn’t her crutch, it was… It was a cane. A single piece of wood that still had bark on most of it, carefully bent into a J-shape.

“The dryad,” she whispered, as it came back to her. She’d met a dryad, and she’d given her the cane for her birthday. But… then what happened? Her memories just sort of petered out after that, and… she clearly wasn’t where she’d been when she got the cane.

A sense of unease came over her as she used the cane to struggle to her feet. A gap in her memories after meeting a magical creature that had been flirting with her seemed like a deeply bad sign. She decided she wanted to be back at the camp, and among trusted friends as quickly as possible.

By the time Lanri got back to the camp, she’d worked herself up into a panic. This dryad, she’d surely done something. They were basically fae that smelled nice, and didn’t need your True Name to have their way with you. And… and on the equinox, they were supposed to be at their most mischievous.

She hobbled into the campsite, where Ithella, Mara, and Seeker were sitting by the magical fire, singing a hymn about Huin, and the hard work he demanded of mortals. They stopped once she got close.

At first, Seeker smiled at her. “There you are, Dear! I was beginning to think I was going to have to come find you.” But that smile quickly faded as Lanri tossed the cane aside and practically threw herself into Seeker’s arms, breathing hard in a mix of exertion and the growing sense that she’d been…

“Something bad happened,” Lanri told Seeker, as she buried her face in the angel’s neck. “I… I just know it did.”

A stunned silence hung over the camp for a moment, but soon Lanri felt Seeker start to stroke the back of her head, and whisper cooing noises. She could only imagine the concerned glances she must have been exchanging with Ithalla. “Tell me what happened.”

Lanri swallowed and nodded. “I met a dryad in the woods. And… she gave me a cane for my birthday, and she was flirting, a- and then I just… I don’t remember! But suddenly I woke up in the forest, with a fucking chicken triying to eat my boots!”

“Cursed creatures,” hissed Ithella. Lanri looked to her, and saw her rise to her feet with Mara’s glaive in hand. “Tell me where, Lady Vattens.”

“Calm down, Ithella,” Seeker soothed, and Lanri could feel her hand exploring her scalp, probably checking if she’d hit her head, too. “Don’t be so eager to assume anything untoward happened.”

“But it did!” Lanri insisted. “I… I woke up, and I just… I knew she’d done something she shouldn’t have.”

“Like what?” Seeker asked, earnestly. Lanri turned, and gave her a betrayed look.

“What do you mean, like what?! I blacked out while she was flirting with me.”

“Dear, please… Don’t take this the wrong way, but… If a dryad had done anything to you today of all days, you wouldn’t be dressed. Nor would you care that she’d done anything.”

“Don’t dismiss me! I know something happened!”

Seeker nodded. “Okay, okay. Walk me through what happened to you, exactly.”

“Ithella told me you needed me to leave you alone for a while, so… I went for a walk,” Lanri started, doing her best to succinctly describe things as she remembered them. Within moments though, Seeker placed two fingers to Lanri’s temple, and closed her eyes. She’s following the memories with me, she realized. “I was bored, and didn’t want to be out there. But I did need to practice walking more, and you weren’t available, so I kept going. Then… I smelled eucalyptus.”

“Good,” Seeker soothed. “Keep going.”

“I remember thinking that doesn’t grow here. So I followed it. Oh, and lavender. I smelled that, too!” Seeker smiled at the slight tangent, but gestured that she should keep talking and remembering. “I followed it, and… it led me to this big green valley with fruit trees. And… a mostly naked woman with green hair dropped out of one of them.”

“That does definitely sound like a dryad,” Ithella whispered.

“I agree,” mumbled Seeker. “Continue, Dear.”

“We talked for a while, and she was very flirty, and I didn’t like it. But… she wanted to give me something for my birthday. That cane,” Lanri said, pointing at the artifact she’d woken up with. “After she just… made it… from a branch of her purple tree, it had a flower on it, and when I smelled it, I…”

She shuddered. This was where her memories got dark. Seeker rubbed her shoulder though, a show of solidarity and encouragement that galvanized her.

“I got dizzy, and hot. I… I just had to get my awful, oppressive clothes off, and before I knew it, I was naked, and—”

“Your grace! This dryad filth obviously—”

“Let her finish first, Ithella,” Seeker ordered the priestess.

“And… and she gave me fruit to eat, and tied me up.” Lanri had to strain to remember this much. It was exhausting, like trying to swim in tar, and she needed to find something solid to support the story she knew was true. “And… and… wait, no, that doesn’t make sense,” she muttered.

“What doesn’t make sense, Dear?” Seeker asked

“You were there,” Lanri realized. “You… you took my place, and made her leave me alone.”

On the other side of the firepit, Mara snickered. Lanri completely lost track of her line of thought, and turned to glare at the woman. She stopped snickering immediately, and looked away, embarrassed. Ithella’s eagerness to run off to battle likewise seemed to melt away.

“Dear, I… I think you’re mistaken.”

“No, Seeker, I—”

“Lanri, I say this with all of the love in the world. I did not save you from a dryad that was trying to molest you.”

“B-but—” Seeker pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her. Lanri frowned at her, but Seeker ignored it, instead reaching out and retrieving the cane from where Lanri had dropped it.

“You definitely met a dryad, yes,” she started, skeptically examining the cane. “But that’s all. She… I think she just played a mean trick on you, Dear. She put you to sleep, and… given all that has happened to you, you dreamt about the worst case scenario.”

“It wasn’t a fucking dream!” Lanri insisted. She knew it wasn’t, even though all of the evidence went against it. “She… she must have…”

“Ne vous inquiétez pas,” Seeker intoned. Lanri took in a gasping breath, and the spell… just washed the worry away. All of that certainty, all of that worry that something bad had happened… they all simply melted into nothing. Part of her wanted to protest, to tell Seeker she shouldn’t do this, but she just didn’t care anymore. It wasn’t interesting.

“You use that spell a lot,” Lanri noted, apathetically.

“You worry too much for my liking,” Seeker easily answered, before pulling her close and kissing her on the forehead. “Nothing happened, Dear,” she said, and Lanri believed her.

“Okay,” Lanri whispered back.

With that, Seeker got up, and helped Lanri to her feet alongside her. “Now, let’s go celebrate your birthday.”