Ethercyte crystal shouldn’t be able to crack like that, Gella thought as Violet tackled her and sent her tumbling. It was an enchanted matrix, nearly flawless. It should have held up to many hundred of degrees hotter than a human like Celia could possibly generate. Whatever it was that her loyal Shadow sensed, Gella felt it a second later. Arcane reactivity, and huge surge of it.

Her knight’s scream of pain was a sharp trill, amplified by harmonics of the briefly superheated air. Before Gella could even right herself, her lovely Dreamgirl was reaching out, Shala’s merigold potential manifesting through her and erecting a barrier around Celia. It shimmered into being around the warrior’s levitating body. Even the brief brush of heat that escaped before the barrier sealed was like an open furnace door, and her Shadow had taken the brunt of it.

Violet was on her knees, face turned away and shivering. Kneeling beside her, careful fingers turned her to face the mage while her other hand vanished into her arcane storeroom. The side of Violet’s face was a matted mess of charred red skin and blood. One eye was shut tight, the skin around it looking badly damaged. Her lovely purple hair hung withered all around that side of her face.

A bottle materialized in her grasp as she desired it, withdrawn back into real space from her arcane storeroom. Repeating the gesture with a clean square of cotton, she doused the material and pressed it carefully to the damaged tissue. Violet hissed in pain, and Gella’s heart twitched at that. She would have to find a way to reward her Shadow for this, perhaps even remove the memory altogether. “Keep steady pressure,” she said, confident and sure.

Violet managed a tiny nod, a pointless but appreciated gesture. Gella knew she would obey, as she had when she pushed the mage away at the cost to herself. Now it was time for her to recover. “Tabitha,” she called, attracting the lithe huntress. She was on her knees by Gella’s side in a blur of green.

“Mistress I—” Gella silenced her with a look.

She could happily wile away hours chatting, but now was the time for silent, firm action. “Go up to my study. The wand I need is white oak with three notches on the side.” The cat girl responded with a silent enthusiastic nod, bolting from the room as fast as her powers could carry her.

Rising to her feet, she approached Lauren and shared her glance at the suspended figure sealed up in Shala’s magic. Celia was held immobile, hovering a foot off the ground with her arms thrown wide and a soundless scream etched on her lips. Flame flowed over her, sheeting off her body like water down marble before crashing and dissipating against Lauren’s barrier. It was a bright, hot flame, visible as a shimmering curtain over her naked body. Curiously, even though it flowed within inches of her ash blonde hair, it didn’t so much as singe it. Indeed her entire body looked perfectly unmarred.

“Mistress?” Lauren asked. She sounded so helpless, and the dark, cold part of Gella thrilled at that. The part she called on when she needed to be hard and cold. Years of effort let her easily dismiss that inner Creature of ice and angles. It would be needed soon, but her Dreamgirl reacted so much better to a gentle firmness.

She let her ethereal senses brush the spells on Lauren’s mind instead. Despite Aversa’s meddling, she at least had the good sense to leave the perception magic alone. It took a precious drop of Gella’s dwindling Light, her ragira, to bolster them, but the renewed thrum sent a pleasant shiver down the priestesses body.

“You reacted quickly, Lauren. Well done,” her voice carried just the right tone of command and praise, and Gella was satisfied to feel Lauren’s tension drop a fraction. “I don’t know what happened to Celia,” she admitted, painfully. It clawed at her, an answer to a long and complicated equation held tantalizingly out of reach. Aversa had known, teased her with it for weeks. Gella shut off that self-recrimination. That belonged to the past, and it would be dealt with in time. The present needed her, and she let it absorb her.

She urged Lauren to follow her on the couch with Violet, still pressing the medicine soaked cloth to her wounds. “How bad is the damage?” She asked delicately, keeping a careful sense of the perception spells on Lauren’s mind. They were still holding, barely, but she was confident seeing Violet simply wounded wouldn’t shatter them. A sigh of relief escaped her when she was proven correct.

Her priestess eased the cloth aside, studying the damaged tissue with a careful eye. For the moment, Lauren was likewise absorbed in the task, earning her a nod of approval from Gella. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” she concluded. “Thricewillow Sap was a good choice, Mistress, but Essence of Dittany will be better to keep the wound clean until I can heal her directly.” Gella quickly offered the retrieved bottle to Lauren, along with another fresh cloth. Lauren’s careful fingers brushed the edge of the ragged wound and Violet hissed, shutting her good eye tight.

Lauren moved away just as the elven woman shook her head. “I… I can handle the pain, Lauren. Continue.”

“I know it is within your ability, Violet, but I am not willing to let you suffer pointlessly,” Gella declared, moving her hand to her assassin’s ink black armor. Finding the little hidden compartment was easy enough, and Violet’s system of ridged needles let her find the right one by touch. “Dalmasca sap. If we need you to be conscious I have plenty of the antidote.”

Violet tilted her head, exposing her neck to the needle. The sharp spike of tension when she did told Gella that her Shadow was trying to stifle her pained sounds, and Gella smiled softly. The needle slid in easily, leaving only a tiny bead of blood. Within seconds Violet had begun to melt into the couch while Lauren carefully applied the medicine soaked cloth. “Dankon, Mastrino de mia koro,” the elf whispered in smooth flowing Aldressan Elvish.

Mistress of her heart. Affection for her Shadow gathered and Gella let it warm her for a moment, fondly pressing a kiss to Violet’s forehead. Sleep now, my Treasure, she whispered, letting the words flow out in Elvish. “Dormu nun, mia Trezoro.”

“Mistress!” Tabby bounded in with her limitless enthusiasm, “I have it!” Depositing the wand in Gella’s lap, the beast girl looked from the sleeping Violet to the suspended Celia and began nervously fiddling with her hands.

Before Gella could instruct her further, Damain trooped in with his band. They were all wearing the white robes from his Grotto. He froze, seeing the tableau in the living room. “Spark,” he began, gesturing at the agony-stricken Celia. “What happened and how can I fix it?”

A wan smile pulled at Gella’s lips. Ever the protective older brother. She waited until Johanna and Robert had placed the large medicine chest in the middle of the room before standing and nodding toward Celia. “Once my spells on her failed there was a cascade event that—”

Damian shook his head while motioning with his arm at the entire living room. “Not just her, Spark, all of this! Your demon pet. How did she get out?” He nodded at Aversa’s corpse, even now starting to evaporate into gray-tinted sparkles.

“Mistress…” Tabby chimed in with a nod from Lauren. “We… She…. Were we bad girls?” Her tone was brittle, and every inch of her body looked ready to curl up into a ball.

Lauren likewise was toying with the hem of her newly-donned robe. She seemed less overtly upset, but deeply confused.

Gella shut her eyes. There was guilt, of course. Aversa was her responsibility. The people she cared for had suffered for her vanity. Ice and chill whispered to her dwindling Light. They were all exhausted, even Damian wouldn’t be able to put up too much of a fight to her stronger spells. She could come out of this utterly blameless. But no. That way lay complication upon complication, so she steeled herself. “Damian, let me reassure my girls first.”

She knew by his expression that he recognized the importance of her request. He would get his answers, but her Treasures needed her right this second. “Alright,” he grunted, mollified.

“Lauren, Tabitha,” she looked into their warm, trusting eyes and let herself smile. That trust, freely given, was a reward for her care beyond anything else. None of her spells or enchantments forced it, no threat compelled it. Only love could produce it. Her gaze flicked to the immobile Celia and something inside her twinged in pain. Celia’s eyes had nearly held that same love, and she would see those sparkling blue eyes looking at her like that again.

She refocused on her girls. “Your Mistress was a fool. I called and held Aversa here, confident in my magic to keep her contained. She was… useful… for my research.” It ached more than she expected, but was an odd relief to it as well. A cleansing pain.

“You didn’t let us know about her,” Lauren said, quietly. It wasn’t an accusation, just a statement of fact.

“I didn’t,” Gella agreed. “For your safety, and yours Tabitha,” she added with a meaningful look to the cat girl. Before either girl could object or worse yet blame themselves, Gella shook her head. “Because of that, no blame can be assigned for what she manipulated you to do.” They both shared a look of relief, and shifted closer to embrace the mage in turn. She shared it willingly, letting her girls take solace in her. “I will take a full account from you both later, but for the moment your sister Treasure needs our help.”

Damian laid a comforting hand on Gella’s shoulder. Looking up she saw, if not understanding, at least momentary acceptance in his eyes. “Not just your Treasure, but a damn fine warrior. We will talk about Aversa more later, but for now, how can we help?” He repeated, meaningfully.

Moving to the medicine chest, Gella quickly found the jars she was looking for. It was a thick pasty clay, alchemically treated to be resistant to heat. Looking around the room, she bid a silent goodbye to many of the furnishings. “First, help me get this stuff on.”

Gella stood resolutely. Covered head to toe in the magical clay, she had her wand pointed at Celia’s levitating body. Everyone else save Lauren had already retreated outside the manor. The priestess herself stood just at the doorway of the room, ready to end her spell on Gella’s signal. Hopefully, only this room would need to be sacrificed. If not, Damian would have enough advance warning to get everyone to safety while she- No. She stopped that thought cold. That was planning for failure, and she was Gella of house Sadran. She would not fail.

At her nod, Lauren dismissed her spell and Gella braced for the intense blast of heat that filled the room. It was like a furnace. The air quickly became stifling, scalding her lips and throat with every breath. Worse, it seemed to pulse outward. Individually, each wave didn’t do more than shift her, but they were coming faster and faster. The furniture in the room began to smolder, then smoke. She needed to be swift.

Each step toward Celia was a challenge, the air itself feeling like tar. The heat gripped her, the flame slithering and pushing toward her like a living thing. Whatever effect this was, and as fascinating as a part of her found it, Gella couldn’t let it intimidate her. She felt the wand’s spells, eager and waiting to spring into Celia, and then unleashed them.

Gella had always appreciated the simplicity of Celia’s mindscape. Clouds, sky, flame, all easy enough to decode. Such lack of subtlety had been airy, reflecting Celia’s uncomplicated mind. Save for that snarl, that Door as she called it. It always had the impression of hidden complexity and depth, and now Gella could see why.

With magic’s aid, Gella saw that Celia’s mindscape had become a hellish cataclysm. That central burning column of her warrior’s strength now gushed without restraint. Gella’s own carefully crafted bulwarks of magic laid in forgotten tatters, scorched beyond use. Worse still, the flame was being fed by tangled smoldering thorns that exploded from the shattered Door. They pierced and threaded beyond the horizon. It pulsed with power and Gella felt her chest tighten. This was no foreign magic. Impossible as it was, this was Celia’s magic. Her own ragira, and it was bent and twisted into a snarling jagged mass.

The sheer enormity of the task loomed before the mage, and her tools felt painfully lacking. This couldn’t be a quick fix, as she wanted. She wasn’t even sure what the solution was, but she had to at least contain the problem. She had perhaps moments left in the real world before her alchemical protections began to fail.

With an almighty tug from her wand, she called on the last of its stored spells and crafted a massive blockade. Memories, skills, her personality, Gella’s own subtle commands, all of it sealed away behind a blank featureless wall. Celia’s mindscape grew cold, dark, empty. With that last remaining dregs of power Gella grafted a temporary simple mind. It was the barest, most basic interaction with the mind and the outside world and tied it into Celia’s body.

All at once, Gella felt the temperature around her body plummet. The spell blocking all of Celia held, and Gella’s awareness slipped out of the barren mindscape.

Smoke filled her lungs, prompting a fit of coughing before Clara and Tiffany rushed in and used their wands to fill the room with fresh air and cleanse away the baked clay from Gella. Breathing in the clean air, the mage opened her eyes and beheld the devastation of her living room. The furniture was blackened, half-burned and still smoldering in places. The carpet was gone, leaving only ash-covered bare stone. Even the ceiling hadn’t been spared, bearing a large scorch mark directly above where Celia-

Her task crashed into her, though she only outwardly showed it as a quick nod of thanks to Damian’s two soldiers. Her knight lay still, breathing slowly and mechanically. She was alive, at least. Now to see what her level of responsiveness was. The urge to call her by her name, to see that warm genuine smile clutched at Gella. But she instead just shut her eyes. It would be a fool’s hope. Instead she welcomed the icy chill of the Creature into her soul.

“Girl, stand,” she commanded firmly.

The blonde human woman complied, smoothly standing up and looking straight ahead. She stood in complete docility, breathing slowly in exactly every three seconds and then out just as long. The trio of women stood, silently watching the human girl. After a full minute had passed, her empty blue eyes shut for exactly two seconds before opening. The basic instructions seemed to be holding. Walking forward, she took the girl’s hand in her own. “Girl, follow.”

Moving smoothly and efficiently, the blonde woman followed Gella while the mage led Damian’s people back into the main hall. “Mistress did you—” Lauren stopped dead, seeing the woman Gella was leading. Tabby moved her gaze from Violet’s slumbering body levitating on an enchanted stretcher and stood stunned as well. One hand covered her mouth while her eyes opened in shock.

She expected this. Her huntress and her priestess could be quite emotional. “No,” she replied firmly. “The complexity of the problem was beyond what I could solve at the moment. I had to contain it instead,” Before either girl could answer, she pointed at her brother. “Damian, take her hand and lead her to her room,” She looked at the docile subject. “Girl, follow him,” she commanded, pressing one unresisting hand into Damian’s.

Her brother gave her an understanding glance, and Gella was thankful he could tell when she had given herself over to the Creature. Even deep within its protective embrace, there was a twinge of pain when Celia was walked past without so much as a flicker of recognition to her, Tabitha, or Lauren.

The icy, numbing chill seeped deeper, and Gella fought to keep above it. She felt tired, drained from a very exhausting day. But she couldn’t rest, not yet. “Johanna, Robert, go and—” There was a strange look in the older human woman’s eye. The mage drew up short. She had just commanded Damian’s forces. “If you would,” she smoothly amended, erasing the budding resentment on Johanna’s face. “When Damian returns, let him know he is free to take whatever he needs from my supplies to make sure the manor is secure. Let the mayor know there isn’t any lingering danger to the town, as well.”

While Johanna left with the rest of the Heralds, Gella had the task of prying her soul away from her inner Creature’s embrace. It was slow and arduous, and the fresh wave of guilt hardly a pleasant victory. But when her eyes opened again and the concern on Tabby and Lauren’s faces washed over her soul like sunlight, it was suddenly well worth it. “Let’s get Violet up to her room, then you’re both coming with me.”

Both girls smiled despite the exhaustion on their faces, happily surrendering themselves to her. They trudged to the third floor, passing Damian with a wordless nod. Violet was carefully lifted between herself and Tabby while Lauren fussed and made sure the elven woman was as comfortable as her injury allowed. “I… I hate seeing her in so much pain,” she tentatively extended her hand as if to call Shala’s magic.

“Do you have the reserves?” Gella questioned, holding the priestess from behind. The pinkette cared so fiercely for her sister Treasures, Gella knew she would push herself past the point of harm without Gella’s supervision. “We’re all drained,” she insisted with a warm coaxing tone. “The very first thing we will do after your morning prayer is come heal her,” she promised, feeling Lauren relaxing in her embrace.

Lauren turned languidly, offering a kiss which Gella lightly returned. “I love you, Mistress. Thank you,”

Tabitha wiggled between them, green eyes hopeful and eager. With an indulgent smile, Gella kissed the cat girl as well. “I love you both.” Part of her felt the absence of her Light dearly. She yearned to feel her magic wrap around their minds, to viscerally feel their will’s soften and submit. But that would have to wait. This will have to do, she thought with an enticing smile to her girls.

Bringing her hands slowly down over each girl’s eyes, they both give a wonderfully sweet gasp. Their eyes smoothly closed, while Gella leaned close to whisper “I claim you, my Dreamgirl. I claim you, my Pretty Kitty.”

“I am yours, Mistress,” they each repeated quietly, with dreamy unconcerned smiles. It was a palliative, a simple trance brought about by mundane means. But it was enough, for now.

Gella’s eyes rested on Violet, her dutiful Shadow, and gestured to both enthralled girls. “Give your sister Treasure a kiss, to give her pleasant dreams,” Lauren and Tabitha both nodded, the cat girl first leaning over to press a chaste, sweet kiss on Violet’s lips. Lauren followed up with one just as heartfelt. Gella herself finished, then let her lips just brush the softly pulsing rune. “Rest well, my Shadow,” she breathed before taking her remaining Treasures by the hand and leaving Violet to rest.

“You belong to me, only to me,” Gella whispered into one of Tabby’s ears, smiling when it twitched from the stream of air. The lights in her bedroom were low, casting her huntress in a medley of shadows. Tabby was naked, of course, languidly draped over Gella’s body, tail slowly snaking across the silken comforter.

Snuggling weakly against Gella, Tabby barely nodded. “Yours, only yours,” she mewled, lips tilting up into a sleepy smile. The mage smiled down at her, kissing the beastkin on the forehead. Fingers trailed along one tawny thigh, the mage delighting in the simple warmth and presence of her Huntress.

Gella knew the relaxed pet purring contentedly against her shoulder could in a moment turn into a wanton seductress or a skilled fighter. Even so perfectly entranced, there was a firmness to her gorgeous lithe body that Gella adored. Tabitha was a natural at either role, but very few got to see the docile little kitten she was now. Lost in a pleasant dream with her special collar around her neck, she was the picture perfect definition of tame.

A sleepy sigh on her skin pulled Gella’s attention to her other bedmate. Lauren lay on her other side, dressed in a soft cream robe. While she didn’t have ears perfectly positioned for Gella to whisper in, the mage knew her priestess could still hear her perfectly. “You belong to me, only to me,” she repeated.

Lauren’s reply wasn’t as articulate, only a mumble and a nod of her head. It still prompted an adoring smile and a soft kiss on the crown of Lauren’s head. Gella’s fingers coiled through a river of silky soft pink hair, lost for a moment in the satisfaction that brought. There was more softness to Lauren’s body as compared to Gella’s huntress, but the contrast only helped the mage savor each of her Treasure’s bodies.

A pang of guilt disturbed the peaceful tranquility Gella found herself beginning to sink into. The rhythmic breathing of each of her girls, their occasional sighs and the pure adoration she felt had done wonders so far to relax her. Only for the thought of Celia, her knight, to scrape across her calm like a burr in a blanket.

That could only lead to a myriad of complexity, the enemy of sleep. Try as she might, she couldn’t let her thoughts trail toward Celia right now. The best way to help her was a restful night’s sleep. So Gella shut her eyes and slowly let herself sink into slumber, her Treasures unconsciously leading the way

Dawn washed over the manor and with it Gella felt her reserves of ragira, her Light, filled to the brim. It invigorated her in a way no stimulant or potion ever could. It was power, eager and coiled to be unleashed at her command. The icy chill of domination awoke as well. It urged her to indulge with her girls. To feel just how deeply they could submit to her. To take their minds into the palm of her hand.

Her fingers were on Lauren’s forehead, the words of the spell nearly at her lips, when the rest of her mind shrugged off the torpor of sleep to temper her desires. Celia and Violet needed her. Indulgence could wait. Her fingers instead cupped the sleeping priestess’s cheek and carefully nudged her awake.

Lauren’s eyes fluttered open and her lips moved into a drowsy smile. Stretching her arms slowly over her head she bent into a stretch. “Good morning, Mistress,” she said, quickly lowering her voice when she caught sight of the still sleeping Tabby.

“Good morning, my Dreamgirl,” Gella replied, just as quietly. They both spent a moment simply gazing into each other’s eyes. Then a troubled realization crept into Lauren’s eyes and Gella sighed. “I know,” she said with a nod. “I would love to spend more time together, but the people we love need us.”

Nodding somberly, the pinkette leaned in for a last kiss. It was brief, no more than a brief brush of their lips, but it still left both women grinning. “I’ll say my prayer and then go take care of Violet,” she promised, making her way to the door. “After that, should I…” She gestured wordlessly in the direction of Celia’s room with a grimace.

The pain on her face was evident even under the influence of the pink spell. Gella could easily tell her priestess wasn’t looking forward to that task, and the mage found herself eager to spare her as long as possible. “No, I’ll let you know if I need you,” she promised. “Try to take your mind off of it in the meantime.”

A muffled groaning from the bed pulled Gella’s attention away as Lauren left. Tabitha’s return to wakefulness was considerably less graceful, involving a spirited attempt to burrow into the pillows. Eventually it appeared she had accepted the inevitable end of sleep and rolled over to smile at Gella. “Morning Mistress,” she said through a yawn.

Reaching over to scritch behind one ear, Gella nodded at her adorable pet. Tabby’s eyes slipped shut and her tail swayed in delight at the intimate gesture. “Good morning, my Pretty Kitty.” The tasks of the day were already beginning to weigh heavily on the mage’s mind, but such intimate little touches of normality with her Treasures were too tempting to ignore. “I’m sure we could all go for some oatmeal this morning,” she suggested firmly.

Opening her emerald eyes, Tabby nodded eagerly and sprang off the bed. “Right away Mistress!” Her enthusiasm faded in an instant as a thought seemed to strike her. “I, um, should I bring a bowl up to…” She tilted her head in the same direction Lauren had gestured.

Seeing both her girls so distraught over Celia’s fate plucked at Gella’s heart. Standing up and crossing to her pet, the mage nodded. “Yes, and one for her as well,” she said confidently.

Watching Tabby’s enthusiasm return under that surety was a balm on her aching heart, and as the cat girl sped away to begin cooking, Gella felt own confidence swell. This was a mental matter, and she was a master of mental magic, after all.

After quickly subjecting herself to a quick magical cleansing, Gella slipped into a soft dark robe bearing carefully woven enchantments. With a silent command they could amplify her perception, fine tune her ethereal control, and if worse came to worst, they could even be quite fireproof. Opening her chamber door and striding to Celia’s room, she paused when she spotted Damian lounging outside her door, dressed in a casual cotton shirt and breeches.

After a perfunctory good morning hug, he nodded at the door. “You’re not brushing me off again, Spark. What the hell happened yesterday?” He asked while they both slipped inside.

Gella held up a finger and shut her eyes, letting that comforting ice and sharpness wrap around her again. The ache of Celia’s face, the lingering shame of her failure, the flushed spark of her desire her girls had lit, all of it was frozen. Not gone, no more than a locked door would be, but she could focus now. “I don’t know how Aversa circumvented my runes, Damian,” she admitted, pulling a chair to her subject. A blank journal, quill, and recording crystal were produced from her arcane storage. “Are you or your Heralds experiencing any ill effects?” She asked curiously.

Her brother shook his head after a moment. The pause was him mentally readjusting to her, Gella was certain. He was adaptable that way. “No,” he admitted. “Some exhaustion, but once we got Joshua up to speed he was able to check us all for any lingering influences before we collapsed for the night. I gave them the day off, by the way.”

“Sensible,” she nodded, opening the new journal and titling it. “Celia was able to discorporate her, none of her demonic servants remained, and there aren’t any lingering effects. I would say that the issue is settled.”

“It is not fucking settled, Spark,” Damian growled.

Gella arched an eyebrow. Her brother wasn’t given to such vulgarity often. Thinking over it, the mage couldn’t quite see any angle left unaccounted for. Concluding that he must want to express frustration, she closed the journal again and gave him her full attention. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”

“We got lucky this time,” he said in exasperation. “If Celia hadn’t done… whatever it is she did… we would probably be still fucking each other senseless.” He sighed, rubbing his temple in a way that Gella privately thought was quite over dramatic. “We’re not in Amourot, Gella. We can’t just get a team of demon slayers if things go wrong like this again,” he insisted.

“I know,” she replied firmly. “And I agree we were fortunate this time. I don’t plan on keeping another demon as powerful as Aversa here in the manor long term again.” She watched his expression carefully, weighing whether to offer more.

“We need to tell the First Counselor what happened.”

“That’s absurd,” she dismissed quickly. “He has far more important things to worry about than a single near miss, Damian.”

He glared at her for a long moment before his expression softened. “Just… promise you’ll think about it. We might have all gotten lucky, but she didn’t,” he said with a nod to Celia’s body.

“And I am going to fix her, Damian,” Gella insisted pointedly.

“I get it, I’ll get out of your way,” he said with a shake of his head. “Should I send one of your girls a few hours from now to remind you to eat and drink?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I doubt this will be that complicated,” she said with confidence that managed to shine even though the ice and chill.

It was hours later. Breakfast had been delivered, left, and was now doubtless a congealed sludge. Tabby and Lauren had both attempted to intervene, but both were dismissed, politely but firmly. Finally, Gella allowed herself to slump in Celia’s desk chair.

Pulling a stored honey oat bar from her arcane storehouse, she munched it while glaring at Celia’s body. The woman looked to be peacefully asleep, but Gella knew that behind her shut eyelids it was anything but peaceful. The merciless inferno scrabbled and stabbed at any protection she threw up, limiting her explorations to brief jaunts. Still, it wasn’t completely fruitless.

Activating her recording crystal, Gella let it hover nearby. “Recovery of human female Celia from acute late stage magi-genesis and related trauma,” she began after taking a drink of water. “Despite all prior evidence to the contrary, the subject is Talented. My current theory is that the exact circumstances of her magi-genesis is related to her retrograde amnesia. Further confirmation is blocked by a number of factors,” she paused, marshaling her thoughts. “Extreme repression, represented by the subject as an inferno, has proven surprisingly effective at resisting my probing efforts. Likewise the spell of mental shaping is proving to be far too ragira-intensive for the limited effects it produces,”

Taking another drink of water, the mage looked over her near inert subject. Frustration and interest warred with her love for the woman. With her other Treasures, each had been calling out for her attention in a clear and deliberate way. Violet had been pledged to masters that didn’t appreciate her skills, Tabby’s emotional repression had been limiting her growth, and Lauren’s former keepers had been doing an abysmal job of letting the priestess prosper.

Celia, though? At first she had simply appeared to lack the proper framework to grow. Trust, companionship, pleasure, and love had done wonders for the woman, and Gella had genuinely believed the amnesia would resolve once he champion had felt safe enough to confront the memories. She had never anticipated this depth to her anguish, and even distanced as she was, she felt a sharp pang of sympathy for her. “Pause recording,” she called out and walked over to Celia.

Her skin was warmer, but not by much, and there was tightness to her expression even while unconscious. “The fact you grew up in such a rural setting, far away from anyone that could truly appreciate you, is a crime,” Gella murmured. “A mountain of potential, and but for our chance meeting you would have been hacking at brigands, trading your skills for a handful of copper your whole life,” she sighed. “But I promise you, Celia, I will make you whole again.”

The woman on the bed didn’t respond, but Gella hadn’t expected her to. Celia was locked behind that arcane wall now, waiting for the mage to work her brilliance and rescue her. Looking at her, Gella let her mind wander. Her usual solutions were stymied, so a brief bit of daydreaming wouldn’t hurt, she reasoned.

The magical armor had looked fantastic on Celia, Gella considered with a smile. Well worth the expense in both gold and time. She couldn’t wait for it to be finished. Painted with her house colors of green and silver, bearing Gella’s device, standing protectively at her side. The image was exquisite, and Celia fit into Gella’s imagination like she was born for it.

Gella’s fingers brushed over Celia’s forehead, and for a moment, the silver-haired woman was strongly reminded of her tribulations with Violet. She had been so inexperienced then. But the knowledge she gained from Violet’s sacrifice had been fundamental to her work. The subtle ways she had her Huntress and her Dreamgirl bound to her were proof enough of that, she considered with a surge of pride.

While her fingers traced Celia’s forehead absently, a thought began to bloom. She might not have another Violet to help her with Celia’s case, but she did have someone quite similar and quite nearby.

Shutting her eyes, Gella called a whisper of her Light and sent it through the powerful communication spell that linked her and her Treasures together. It was met with eager acceptance as Lauren’s warm pink thoughts came back clear as a bell. “Hello Mistress,” her mental voice sang out.

Gella smiled to herself at Lauren’s bright enthusiasm. “Hello Lauren. Are you busy with anything at the moment?”

“Sitting with Violet and healing the damage from last night,” she contentedly replied.

“I’ll be right over,” Gella sent with a small smile. Her Dreamgirl had the innate ability to make whatever problems she was facing feel little less daunting by her simple presence. Opening her eyes she looked down at Celia’s body. Leaning down, she pressed a light kiss to the spot she had been idly tracing. While she doubted it would even register to her future champion, it felt right to offer her that little bit of affection.

It was only a few steps to Violet’s room, the door opening at her touch. Lauren beamed up at her from her spot beside Violet. The elven woman’s uncovered eye lazily focused on her, and after a moment she managed an incredibly distant and soft, “hello.”

“She is still pretty out of it,” Lauren supplied, scooting over to offer Gella room. Slipping in beside her priestess, the mage examined the much healthier-looking tissue. The charred blistered skin from the previous night now looked weeks healed, and a simple linen wrap holding some cotton dressing was pressed against Violet’s damaged eye.

“How long will it take for her eye to heal?” Gella asked quietly. Part of her yeared to embrace her Shadow, to show the woman her appreciation for taking this damage on herself. But she held herself back, knowing that it would be all the sweeter when Violet was fully lucid and healed.

“We will need Mr. Entamor’s help for that,” Lauren said simply. “Until he can take a look at it, she will be blind in that eye.”

Gella nodded softly. Xavier Entamor was Adampor’s premiere fleshcrafter. The delicate craft of reworking living tissue with magic was his specialty. “It was that bad?”

Lauren nodded, moving her faintly-glowing hands over a reddened patch of skin. The redness began slowly receding, leaving pink, freshly-healed skin in its place. “Yes,” she said quietly, and Gella could see the discomfort build on her Dreamgirl’s expression. “Celia… She really hurt Violet.”

Gella put a hand on Lauren’s shoulder, giving the pinkette a sympathetic smile. “She wasn’t in control of herself when she did it. I have been working with her all day, and I can say that much for certain.” Lauren’s expression brightened and Gella could feel the warm rays it cast over her soul. “And I need your assistance for the next part.”

Nodding eagerly, Lauren carefully dressed Violet’s wound with a fresh dose of medicine and a clean bandage. “What do you need, Mistress?”

“We need to see that mage you and Violet retrieved from Cerene for me. I think her mind might hold the clues I need to fix Celia.”