CHAPTER 31

Gella’s perception passed through great swatches of the nameless mage’s mindscape that were utterly devoid of activity. The odd scraps of burned paper and ruined lecterns were the only indication that the woman had once thought herself a scholar. But the only thing the woman from Cerene even came close to contemplating now was the present moment.

When Violet and Lauren had retrieved her, Gella had been brimming with curiosity about her skills. The stories of a mage warlord building herself an army had impressed her, until she had learned the truth of it. She hadn’t been building an army, merely collecting a mob. Peasants, washer women, anyone she could snap a magic earring on had been gathered and eventually thrown away in a desperate attempt to save her own skin.

As Gella strode through the empty mindscape, she sighed for the wasted potential of it all. At this nameless mage's cleverest, she had displayed some creative problem solving, sending in another controlled mage to the Cereni government to stall action against her. And she supposed that an encounter with a literal angel wasn’t something a lesser mind would concern itself with.

That angel had executed their divine mandate with fervor. Every trace of connection to this woman’s ragira had been ripped to pieces, beyond Gella’s ability to restore. It was in this destruction that she hoped to piece together some theory to help her suffering champion.

Shifting her perception partway out of the nameless woman’s mind, she gestured to Lauren in the real world. “I’m ready to begin, keep a close eye on her.” Trusting her priestess to understand, Gella relaxed the strain of partially emerging, and immersed herself fully once more.

Even finding the beginnings of the Cereni mage’s knowledge of magic had been a challenge. The scorched ash only had the faintest glimmer of recollection to the rest of her. But it was enough. Gella found the line of recollection and slowly began threading it back towards full realization.

The effects were immediate. The woman’s name, Isadora Harper, lept from the ash and soot around Gella. Almost as quickly, the fear and terror of her last moments burst alight as well. This wasn’t the arcane fire that currently plagued Celia, but divine wrath made manifest. Still, Gella watched the process carefully. It was memory-based, that much was certain. Divine flame, colored rose gold, ruthlessly sheared away memories and concepts. It happened too fast to see exactly how it was done. So Gella stopped the concentration on Isadora’s name, letting her mind fall still and silent once more. Then she repeated the process anew.

She was part way through with her second pass when her physical body was jolted. Sighing heavily, Gella abandoned her observation and returned her perception to the real world.

They were in the little room she had arranged for Isadora to be cared for in Wand’s Reach. Lauren and Gella were both seated while Isadora lay back in bed, sweat beading on her forehead. “Mistress, her heart rate was shooting up and she was hyperventilating. Whatever you’re doing is scaring her halfway to death,” Lauren reported grimly.

Gella nodded sagely. “I expect she was,” the mage calmly explained. “I was getting close to something quite traumatic for her.” Lauren looked toward the unconscious Isadora and sighed heavily. Her fingers moved to nervously brush Shala’s sigill on her necklace, while her expression turned pensive.

Gella’s fingers slipped under Lauren’s chin and she fixed the pinkette with a firm look. Her Dreamgirl took a sharp intake of breath while the mage watched as her expression shifted back to a dreamy smile. “I don’t like making you worry so much, Lauren,” Gella purred warmly. Worry and contemplation had no permanent place in her Treasure’s life. They were all clever in one way or another, of course. She saw no need to reduce the intelligence of her girls, but she vowed to herself that as soon as she could, she would let all of them drift in a pleasant, thoughtless haze for a while.

“Just a little worried,” Lauren replied, her voice already a little dazed from Gella’s stare alone. “If it’s merciful to do this to her.”

“It is,” Gella insisted. “We are causing Isadora pain, yes, but in service of giving her a greater mercy. What did the priestess Myrennia De Latrian do when she came across the plagued city?” She asked with a knowing smirk. Paying attention to her priestesses' holy stories came in handy in all manner of useful ways.

Lauren’s dreamy smile gained a touch of pleasant warmth, as it always did when Gella provided proof of her interest in Shalan theology. “She fostered natural immunity to the plague, Mistress. She let them get sick and nursed them through it to make sure there wouldn’t be another large outbreak.”

“Just as they had to suffer the illness, Isadora here has to suffer so that I might find a way to heal both her and Celia,” Gella said firmly. Of course Isadora’s recovery would be incidental at best, as this was exploratory mental surgery. But the callousness that research demanded could quite easily bruise Lauren’s tender heart. It wasn’t a lie, Gella was quite certain of that. She would never outright lie to her Treasures.

“Alright Mistress, I trust you,” Lauren’s soft voice promised as Gella looked away to break her fascination. “I’ll do what I can to keep her calm while you work.”

After bending forward to give her Dreamgirl a thankful kiss, Gella called on her Light again and immersed herself once more in Isadora’s mind. Finding the right point to begin was easier the second time, and the results were just as inconclusive. She needed to slow the moment down. Of course, that would prolong Isadora’s recollections of the moment, but such sacrifices were called for in research like this.

Stretching the moment out as long as she dared, Gella let it play again and again. Each pass revealed a little more. The destruction brought about by the divine wrath went deeper than memory, down into the soul. While Gella had abandoned soul-based methods of control after her experiments with Violet, she still maintained a working theory of soul magic. It was fiendishly complicated and disastrous if done poorly. Only a few Adampora mages had made a successful study of it, with Counselor Stretta being the foremost in the field.

She peered deeper, paring away more of Isadora’s fractured mind to follow the trail down to her soul. The mindscape of charred knowledge blurred away, leaving Gella with only the incomplete picture of Isadora’s soul.

It was an immense crystalline structure, as Gella’s senses perceived it. Complicated, interlocking facets fractaled ever smaller, but such fine detail was hardly needed for the mess Gella saw. The spot that should be alive and humming with the potential for arcane power was only a blackened husk. One that was starting to tremble and crumble from the mere act of being observed, it seemed.

Gella quickly reversed her spell, exiting Isadora’s mindscape. While her perception faded to the real world, she held hope that her foray wouldn’t have lasting consequences. It only took a second of seeing Isadora’s convulsing body and Lauren’s valiant spellwork to counter it to dash Gella’s hope.

“Mistress! I’m losing her!” Lauren said desperately, her hands flaring brightly with magic. She looked at the silver-haired mage intently, naked hope on her face that Gella would have the solution to this. And she did. Isadora had made a valuable sacrifice to Gella’s store of knowledge, and now the mage could give her an equally valuable gift. A clean slate.

“I can save her! I just need a few more moments,” Gella said back quickly, mustering all of her Light. This would be a powerful, complicated spell. Doubtless, it would take much of her ragira, but Gella was not about to let a senseless death taint her research. “Inntinn agus anam air ath-nuadhachadh, air an glanadh bho eòlas!” She incanted, willing the woman before her to conform to the shape of the spell. Her mind would be washed clean in Gella’s magic, her past undone, the impression of a life lived on her soul would be erased. Isadora Harper would be no more, and the then-nameless woman could find solace in a fresh start.

The powerful incantation pulled deeply at Gella’s Light, but it was enough. The spell form surged into Isadora without resistance, and began altering reality to Gella’s whim.

Gella herself slumped to the floor against the bed, sweating. Momentarily too drained to even cast mage sight, she waited patiently while Lauren fussed over the woman on the bed. The woman who had been Isadora had stopped convulsing, and under Lauren’s careful ministrations was quickly soothed into a dreamless slumber.

Only a second after Lauren finished casting her restorative spells on the again nameless mage, did she turn that same devoted caring attention to Gella. The mage bore it with a smile, taking the moment to simply luxuriate in Lauren’s attentions. “Mistress…” She began, hesitantly. “I recognized a bit of that. Did you… erase her?”

Turning her head, Gella saw worry and awe in equal measure on Lauren’s face. Wrapping a leaden arm around the pinkette, Gella urged her to share the mage’s lap. “I did, yes,” she confessed, running a comforting hand up and down Lauren’s back. The priestess sighed softly, her warm body relaxing bit by bit. “And you’re bothered by that,” she deduced, placing a kiss on Lauren’s forehead, earning the mage a brief happy smile.

“Some,” Lauren admitted. “It’s… hard to explain. I know I should be more worried, and your spell is keeping most of it away,” she added with a thankful look. “But… I…” She tried and failed, looking back into her lap. “Isn’t that basically killing her?”

Gella kept at her slow, rhythmic stroking up and down Lauren’s back. “It’s no worse of a fate than what awaited her in Cerene,” Gella gently said. “Isadora Harper was, by all accounts, a wicked woman. She murdered and enslaved people, thought of them as tools and discarded them without a care.” Gesturing up at the inert woman, Gella continued. “At least now, instead of the headsman’s ax or a zealous Heartwarden’s wrath, she can find peace and a purpose, here.” Gella's fingers very lightly slipped around her Dreamgirl’s pendant. “Shala obviously approves. No angry Gilded One has appeared with a stern note, and I’m sure you can still feel her power in your soul, right?”

In answer Lauren just lifted her hand and whispered, “paillettes.” A flurry of golden glittering flakes fell over them both while Lauren‘s look of awe and wonder grew. “You’re so wise, Mistress,” Lauren said happily, all traces of worry banished from her cheery smile. “Did you find something to help Celia?”

“I did indeed, and I look forward to testing the theory in deeper detail,” she said, confidently. Lauren rose first, offering a hand which Gella gratefully took. “I just need to let Arasia know that I have solved this problem for her, and then we can go home.”

________________

“I am going to check on Violet,” Lauren said once they were over the threshold into Cair Dwemor. The sound of running feet reached Gella’s ears a moment after and Lauren turned to smile sweetly. “And I think someone missed you.”

The sound of giggles filled the air as Tabby's voice echoed from the third floor balcony. With a graceful leap, her lithe body briefly glowed a brilliant emerald, before she landed in a perfect crouch on the soft carpet below. Like a coiled spring, she launched herself forward, into Gella's waiting embrace. The mage's hands expertly caught Tabby under her firm butt, supporting her weight as the woman showered her with affectionate kisses. Gella bore the onslaught of love with grace, eventually returning a deeper kiss before gently setting Tabby back down on the ground. "I missed you," Tabby said with a wide grin, her tail swishing back and forth to emphasize her genuine sentiment.

“I missed you too, my Pretty Kitty,” Gella said softly, running her fingers through Tabby’s short hair. “Did you take care of all Violet’s chores while we were gone?”

Tabby nodded firmly. “Sure did! Once I was done I made a few more meals to restock, then I made sure Violet wasn’t lonely.”

Gesturing for Tabby to follow her, Gella made her way up the stairs. “I’m sure it was entirely to keep Violet from feeling lonely, right?” She asked with a subtle teasing tone. When Tabby froze and looked startled, Gella wrapped her arm around her and drew her close.

In the presence of the excitable cat-girl, affection and warmth seemed to come naturally. The girl never hid her emotions or tried to deceive with subtlety; she wore her heart on her sleeve. And in moments like these, her contentment could be heard as a soft, satisfied purr. Gella couldn't help but smile at the sound – it was one of her personal delights. She had learned that Tabitha only purred when truly happy, and in all their years together, Gella had only heard it within the walls of their shared home. "Thank you for keeping my Shadow company while we were away, Tabitha," Gella said warmly.

“You’re welcome, Mistress,” Tabby replied as Gella steered them toward Celia’s room. The blonde woman on the bed had her clothes changed, now wearing a powder blue night dress and….

“Tabby… Did you put her hair in pigtails?” Gella asked in wry amusement.

“Aren’t they cute on her!?” Tabby enthused. “After I showered with her, I was going to just leave her hair loose, but I thought well I might never actually get to see Celia wear pigtails so I should take the chance and–” She stopped herself, seeing Gella’s raised eyebrow. “And… And I wanted to spend more time with her,” she finished, a cloud of melancholy drifting over her. “She saved all of us, and she can’t even enjoy it, and I can’t do anything magic like you and Lauren can,” she continued with a growing frown.

Cupping Tabby’s cheek in her palm, Gella watched while her pet adoringly nuzzled into the touch. The frown vanished as soon as it appeared, replaced with a content bliss. “Lauren and I are working on it, so there is no reason to worry.” Gella said firmly, getting a tiny nod in response. “Your sister Treasure will be better before you know it,” she began, “But if you would like to slip away while we work?” She offered.

Tabby’s expression brightened and she nodded eagerly.

“Go ahead and get your collar then.” Gella barely had time to get the words out before Tabby rushed off in an emerald blur. Only a few heartbeats passed before she reappeared, practically glowing with excitement and the fading light of her monk markings. Reverently placing the decorated collar in Gella’s outstretched hand, she turned and offered her bare neck to the mage.

The collar had been a labor of love, crafted after she had discovered just how much Tabby enjoyed getting to indulge in what her species so often fought against. By and large, beastkin were just as intelligent and civilized as any other sapient on Eitheris. But the old stigmas still stuck around. Ram and bull beastkin got the accusations of a clumsy temper, sheep and bovine beastkin were dismissed as lazy and lethargic, and of course, feline beastkin like her dear Tabitha often got accused of being nothing more than walking housepets.

The spells imbued in the leather worked to safely reduce her pet to just that. A simple pet, untroubled by things like speech or forethought. Under its influence, Tabby would get to be the Creature of instinct and pleasure she often yearned to be.

Gella knew that Tabby letting herself be just that for the mage touched something deep in her psyche. To be lesser in every way for the woman that owned her. “I’ll take perfectly good care of you,” Gella murmured quietly, slowly drawing the collar up Tabby’s back for no other reason than to see her lovely body shiver.

“You always do, Mistress,” Tabby breathed out. A gasp that was sweeter than it had any right to be escaped Tabby’s lips when the enchanted leather wrapped around her throat. Gella added a kiss to her pet’s warm skin just before she closed the collar and latched it shut. With the click of the latch, the magic in the collar activated and Gella guided her pet to face her.

Tabby's once bright emerald eyes, full of sapient understanding, now glistened with unwavering adoration and trust, like a loyal animal. She stumbled slightly, her usual grace replaced with the natural preference of a cat to be on all fours. Gella gently lowered her to the floor, and Tabby responded with a gentle purr-like mewl, nuzzling against Gella's hand in a display of pure affection and dependence.

Gella retrieved one of the most revered works on soul magic, penned by Councillor Stretta himself, from her arcane storehouse then settled onto the floor with her mindless pet curled up comfortably in her lap. An enchanted book holder helpfully floated the tome to eye level freeing Gella's fingers to find a more satisfying task in stroking her Pretty Kitty's soft skin.

The girl shifted under Gella's gentle touch, offering her back, tummy, and head for caresses, accompanied by a constant flow of sweet purring. The soothing sound served as a warm background to Gella's focused study of soul magic. Her Lord's arcane notations were intricately written, yet still accessible to anyone well-versed in Adampora's educational system. "Shall we take a peek at Celia's soul, Pretty Kitty?" Gella asked, her voice filled with excitement and curiosity. The cat-girl tilted her head in response, as if understanding the question, then only responded with a flick of her tail and an insistent mewling until Gella relented and slowly stroked down her back again.

Visualizing the spell in her mind, using the book's contents as a guide, Gella let the words form. “Toirt air an anam nochdadh,” she said, ensuring the words were firm but quiet. Directing the spellform into Celia’s body, Gella waited patiently until the patch of air before her shimmered. Calling on her mage sight, she peered carefully until the crystalline image of Celia’s soul formed.

Everyone’s soul was unique, of course, but they shared some commonalities in Gella’s perception. Knowing her knight had ragira, it was easy enough to find the corresponding section of the endlessly-complicated crystalline form. Bringing that part into greater prominence, Gella’s fingers paused in their movement. While most of Celia’s soul had been separated from her own ragira, that distance was closing even as Gella watched. The closest bits had already been shot through with cracks, each one glowing as if filled with boiling, liquid fire.

Feeling her confidence take a blow, Gella followed the crack to the very center. Celia’s ragira raged, and within it was the woman's own perceptions. Her protection spells on Celia had been for nothing. Celia was awake and aware within her mind, and from the looks of her soul, she was suffering immensely.

Every instinct in Gella’s body surged at her to do… something! Her Treasure was in pain, and she was merely sitting here with Tabby in her lap. Unwanted visions of Isadora’s soul flashed through Gella’s mind, the ruined husk that Gella had had no choice but to reset. Her heart ached terribly at the thought. To lose everything that made her champion who she was was simply unthinkable.

Her stress was calmed by a familiar, comforting chill. She was too close, too raw, to be effective. Instead, she focused on her objective, as ice and reason froze out fear and helplessness. The preservation of Celia’s memories, personality and soul was her goal. Whatever the cost.

Her shift in perspective didn’t go unnoticed by Tabby. Leaning back on her legs, the mindless pet girl trilled a quiet, confused sound. Leaning in close enough for their noses to touch, she peered into Gella’s eyes. “I know,” Gella said comfortingly, knowing her pet wouldn’t find the warmth and care she was expecting. Instead, she lifted the beast girl in her arms and placed her next to Celia’s. Despite the obstructions standing between her and her objective, Celia’s body was still warm and comforting for Tabby’s simplistic state. The beastkin curled up with Celia, freeing Gella to focus on making a plan.

Pulling the levitating book toward her, she began devouring it with single-minded devotion. Crystals and notes were pulled free and added to. Reference books were summoned. The material was difficult, outside her own wheelhouse of control and influence. But she could – would – master it. She had her objective, and nothing would stand in her way.

________________

“My Lady,” Violet's voice shook Gella from her focused reverie. “It’s time for bed.”

The mage blinked, looking around at Celia’s room. Her work had slowly colonized the space, turning Celia’s little writing desk into an outpost of her emerging research. Her stomach complained, her back was sore, and for all the filled journals around her, she felt no closer to making more than an elementary stab at soul magic. Rubbing her dry eyes with thumb and forefinger, she heard Violet begin to tidy up the books and journals.

“Soul magic,” Violet commented carefully. “Interesting choice of study material.”

“Celia’s condition requires it,” Gella said, more snappishly than she intended. Opening her eyes, she saw her Shadow dressed in her maid’s uniform once more. The side of her face was whole and unblemished, with only her undercut hair and a deep purple eyepatch marking what had happened to her. “Lauren knows you are up and about?” She asked, forcing a more civil tone.

“Yes, so long as I promised to take it easy,” Violet responded, stacking the journals neatly and arranging the books in a row. “Are you planning on making me break that promise to get you into bed, my Lady?” Violet pointedly asked.

Gella exhaled slowly, freeing her tired mind from the icy focus of her inner Creature. If such a thing were even possible for a mental construct, it too felt exhausted. “No, Violet. I know I need to rest, but…” She gestured at Celia.

“I know, my Lady. We’ve all grown quite fond of her.” Violet said, letting her voice carry a hint of warmth. “Running yourself ragged isn’t going to help her though,” she admonished, helping Gella to her feet.

“I have to,” Gella insisted. “Whatever is happening in her mind, it’s affecting her soul too. She’s not peacefully sleeping in there, Violet,” Gella declared darkly. “She’s suffering, and if that wasn’t enough, it’s also starting to break her soul apart.”

“Souls typically are the domain of the gods, my Lady,” Violet said firmly, “I know the First Counselor has made a study of it, but precious few others have. Before you run yourself into the ground trying to replicate him, I think we should try something a little closer to home.”

Looking at Violet with tired eyes, Gella felt a brief tingle of shame. Of course. Lauren was right here. But she had been so focused on fixing the issue herself. Hot on the heels of that particular bit of shame was another sharp realization. “Fuck,” Gella swore tiredly. “Tabby, I need to–”

“Already taken care of, my Lady,” Violet interjected. “Lauren came in to check on you earlier, and she took Tabby with her. Judging by the sounds coming from her room, they found something to occupy their time.” The thought brought a small smile to the mage, along with a tingle of desire to her unguarded mind.

But no, she couldn’t indulge now. She was the bulwark that let her Treasures live such bliss-filled lives. “You didn’t want to join them, Violet? Between Aversa and everything else, I can’t imagine you’ve had time to be intimate with them?” The faint blush on Violet’s cheek spoke volumes. “I want you to enjoy yourself. I can get something to eat and get to bed on my own.”

“I am enjoying myself, my Lady, just as I am.” Violet shook her head. “Serving you. Let them play. I am positive Lauren will insist on removing Tabitha’s collar before they both go to bed.” Her hand took Gella’s, holding it delicately. “Let me stay with you tonight.”

Gella looked into her Shadow’s eye, her free hand moving to hold the elven woman’s hip. Her lovely, ever-attentive Shadow. The first of her Treasures. She had been ever-present since her first year in Remere. Her heart suddenly ached from the long hours she had spent locked in icy focus. She wanted to feel warm and alive, and that wound a thread of guilt along her heart. Her knight was still suffering, nothing on that front had changed.

“Tell me everything will work out with Celia,” Gella quietly pleaded.

“It will,” Violet insisted with more certainty than Gella herself currently felt. “We all know how much you care for her, for all of us!” Her usual stoic voice broke into genuine emotion. “Mastrino de mia koro,” she declared, shifting into elvish for that phrase. “None but you had the strength and skill to claim me, and I know that whatever magical malady is afflicting Celia, your strength and skill are equal to that as well.”

Gella stood with a warm swirling sense of hope settling in her chest. Her Shadow only let the mask slip this much when it was truly important. Standing on her tiptoes, she brought her hand up to urge Violet to bend slightly to kiss her. Their lips met, yielding and warm. The mounting tension Gella felt mellowed slightly, tempered by Violet’s faith and the exquisite kiss.

Slipping back and nodding at the shyly smiling Violet, Gella beckoned toward her room. “Well, come along then, my Shadow.”

________________

It was hours later, and Gella lay awake in bed. The pale moonlight slipping past her curtains was augmented by the faint, pulsing, purple glow of Violet’s rune. It gave just enough light to paint the curves of Violet’s naked body in shades of pale lumensince. Altogether, the whole manor had a sense of peace that Gella felt personally attacked by. She knew it was a foolish notion of course, Eitheris was so much bigger than one woman. One amazing woman, locked in a nightmare only a few rooms away while she sat here helplessly.

The fact that this malady had transferred from mind to soul and thus outside her speciality was a cold comfort to the mage. If she had only taken Aversa’s deal, perhaps she could have caught this earlier. The demoness had known, if not the how, then at least the what, and she herself could only grasp at the precious few clues her sessions with Celia had teased out.

Fire was involved, literally as well as figuratively. Her knight had a penchant for describing her inner strength as flame, and it had seemed a harmless idiosyncrasy at the time. The urge to recriminate herself was strong, but long years of vigilance against that kind of corrosive thinking let her focus past it. Tomorrow, she would get Lauren to intercede with the divine on her behalf.

Focusing on her Dreamgirl helped her slip past the guilt. Her lovely priestess, so tender and mild. The girl’s gentle spirit had been a perfect match for Celia’s wounded one. Their burgeoning love had been unintended, but welcome. It let Celia experience just how good it felt to open her heart to love, a love she then shared with Gella. And the mage genuinely loved Celia in return. Her determination, her skill at arms, and her beauty had captivated Gella from that first night.

One of Violet’s hands brushed aside Gella’s curtain of silver hair, then her lips left a brief kiss at the junction of the mage’s neck and shoulder. “You should get some more sleep,” she breathed into one ear. Skilled strong hands went to Gella’s shoulders, carefully untangling the growing knots of tension.

A pleased sigh escaped Gella’s lips. “I’ve slept enough,” she said with a trace of defensiveness.

The mattress shifted behind her. “It’s not yet three in the morning, my Lady,” Violet’s voice confirmed before the elf returned to embracing Gella. “Dawn won’t be for hours yet,” They both sat quietly for a long moment. “Would you like some help, perhaps a quarter dose?”

Gella sat, savoring Violet’s warmth against her. She trusted no one more, except perhaps Damian. She nodded silently, looking ahead without really seeing. Her mind was already on tomorrow, how she planned to word her request to Lauren. She heard the sound of a stopper being removed, water being poured into a glass. Then she was handed the cup, the water inside a faint blue even in the pale moonlight.

The moment she drank it, Gella felt the quarter-strength potion work on her frayed mind. The thought of her comfortable bed with Violet’s yielding body held close proved to be too great a temptation, and the mage slipped close to her Treasure. Her arms wrapped around Violet’s body in a mirror of how the elf had been embracing her moments ago. “My beautiful, wonderful Treasure,” Gella whispered, blinking heavily as she surrendered to sleep.

________________

The morning arrived and with it came a tiny pinprick of pain. Gella’s lingering grogginess was banished in an instant, leaving her feeling alert and refreshed. Rolling over, she nodded her appreciation to Violet. “Thank you,” she said sincerely, slipping out of bed and out of her nightgown.

Walking naked over to her cleansing device, she braced for the unpleasant feeling of being scrubbed raw. Wishing dearly for the simple pleasure of a warm luxurious bath, the mage added it to her growing mental reward. Once Celia was whole and healthy again, she would be indulging fully in all these deferred pleasures.

Violet, already in her maid’s uniform, approached with a cleaned and pressed set of enchanted garments. Underware, loose comfortable trousers, a light cotton shirt, and her enchanted robes. “Go ask Damian to have Joshua join us,” Gella commanded once she was fully dressed. “He might not have as much favor with Brawna as Lauren does with Shala, but it can’t hurt to have other options.” Gella said, her confidence restored.

Sharing a brief, genuine smile, Violet nodded and let her aloof indifferent mask slip back into place. “Yes, my Lady,” she said with a bow, moving gracefully to Gella’s little kitchenette. Returning with a few more oat cakes, she pressed them into Gella’s hand with an expectant expression.

Nodding once more, Gella took a bite only for her stomach to suddenly ravenously growl at her for missing dinner. Her lovely Shadow took that moment to slip out of the door, leaving Gella to hurriedly finish her quick breakfast.

After replenishing herself, the mage mentally checked over everything she needed, assured herself of their presence either in her arcane storehouse or as part of the set of books yet lingering in Celia’s room. Satisfied that she had everything accounted for, she slipped out of her door and toward Lauren’s room.

Stepping into her priestess’ room, Gella caught the adorable sight of Tabby running a brush through Lauren’s hair. The human woman herself sat naked at her vanity while Tabby attended to her. “Morning Mistress,” Tabby said perkily. “I figured you would want to get an early start today, so I’m helping Lauren get ready.

Walking over to her, Gella held out her hand for the brush and took over caring for Lauren’s long pink hair. She ran the brush down with a steady firmness, the task made nearly automatic from the many times she had done it before. While she wanted to reserve her Light for what promised to be a daunting day, the glimmer needed to reinforce her pink bands around Lauren’s mind were well worth it.

Once Lauren’s hair shimmered, Gella slipped the pointer and middle fingers on both hands around Lauren’s temples and whispered, “lèirsinn dath ròs.” The form of the spell was engraved in Gella’s memory by now, the precise intent she needed to keep her lovely Dreamgirl’s mind strong and steady.

Lauren gasped, her mind surrendering to the touch of Gella's arcane powers with ease. A small smile played across Gella's lips as she recalled the countless hours spent patiently teaching Lauren the secrets of opening her mind so readily. With a delicate touch, Gella had blended pleasure, hypnosis, and magic into one powerful force, carefully guiding and coaxing Lauren's mind into eager submission. A bittersweet pang tugged at Gella's heart as she yearned to share more of this intimate experience with Celia, but she pushed the thought aside and focused on completing the spell. As their eyes met in the mirror, Lauren's irises flashed with a deep pink hue before settling into a vibrant ring around her pupil.

With a satisfied smile, Lauren turned and rose to enfold Gella in her arms. The mage's hands caressed her soft, pale skin, cherishing the simple act of holding her Treasure. "Thank you, Mistress," Lauren said sweetly, leaning in for a kiss. It was all too brief, but Gella relished every moment while she mentally added a more leisurely kiss to her growing store of deferred rewards.

A pleased purr brought her attention to Tabby, who was gazing at both of them with rapt attention. Releasing Lauren to get dressed, Gella embraced the shorter beastkin girl. As was her preference, she wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing. “I’m sorry for ignoring you last night, my Pretty Kitty,” Gella murmured into one of her tufted ears.

She watched it flick, then in a flash, Tabby’s lips were on hers. She lingered a bit longer than Lauren, the cat-girl more insistent. Pulling away and earning a tiny, disappointed sound, Gella shook her head. “As much as I would love to linger, Celia needs me more today.”

“I know,” Tabby said, her ears drooping a fraction. “I wish I could do something to help,” she said, her shoulders following her ears. The sight of her pet so downtrodden rasped across Gella’s sensibilities like a file.

“My Huntress,” Gella said firmly, catching Tabby’s attention fully. “I did not claim you for your knowledge of magic,” she began warmly. “You are strong and swift and very brave. Let Lauren and I deal with the things we are skilled at.”

Tabby’s expression warmed. Her ears perked and Gella could see the eager swishing of her tail. “I will Mistress!” She exclaimed

Turning to see Lauren had dressed in her own version of Gella’s enchanted robes, Gella took a calming breath. “Lauren. The damage being done to Celia is beginning to affect her soul.” She expected that to incite a look of pained worry on Lauren’s face, and was grimly satisfied to see she was right. “I had only limited success replicating our Lord’s skill with soul magic. So, my lovely Dreamgirl, I must ask you to intercede with Shala on Celia’s behalf.”

Lauren stood still, her expression suddenly thoughtful. Gella knew the enormity of her request. To call on the direct intervention of the divine was something most of the faithful would never be able to accomplish, and those that could only used it in the most dire of circumstances.

A tiny, frigid core of her thought to make it an order. To force her priestess to obey, to call on every scrap of divine power she could to heal Celia. Gella kept her expression neutral while she inwardly blanched at that part of her. It slithered temptingly, urging her to flex her powers, to take and use. And Gella stood firm, resolute in her willpower until the Creature sank back beneath her consciousness. To demand that of her priestess, to rob her of that choice in something this sacred, would wound her deeply.

“I… I’ll do it. For Celia, for all of us.” Lauren said firmly. “Just, I need some time to prepare.” She glanced at the clock near her bed. “At noon. Until then, I need to offer my prayers and do the proper rituals.”

“Of course, Lauren, whatever you need,” Gella said, soothingly.

“Powdered Rosewood,” Lauren said after a moment. “At least three ounces of pure gold dust, nine pure white wax candles, and some Abbyberry incense.”

“Tabby, take some gold from the treasury and purchase the dust from Wand’s Reach, Gella ordered, getting a delighted smile from the cat-girl as she bolted off to obey. “I already have the rest,“ she continued, reaching into her arcane space to retrieve the candles, wood, and incense.

Lauren looked from the open door to Gella and back again. “But, Mistress, I’m sure you have the dust already on hand, too?”

Gella followed her gaze, then shared a smile with her. “My own brand of mercy. Now Tabby has something she can do to help as well.”