#spice and wol

[unblinded-by-nostalgia-blog]

The Story

The story tells us what happened to all the characters several years after the previous volumes.

That is pretty much it. It is basically an epilogue to the series and it is a fitting one. But I don't think that it deserved it's own novel since it is short and takes up less than half of this novel.

The Characters

We learn what happened to most of the characters after the left the main storyline, but I have one problem with this epilogue. Most of the returning characters are female and only three male characters (Lawrence, Luward and Col) are actually seen and get a fitting conclusion.

Even the shepherdess Norah and Eve, who Holo disliked are in this! And Holo even invited them!

I know that the demographic of this series is mostly male, but that's no excuse to leave out the male characters in the ending! Especially when this series appeals to both sexes and doesn't follow the usual light novel tropes! It makes the ending feel loosely like a harem light novel's conclusion, not a Spice and Wolf conclusion!

The Illustrations

We get a few illustrations in this light novel and they are okay. The main problem with them is that the printing made some of the illustrations too dark to see properly. The expect this sort of problem from Tokyopop's releases, not Yen Press!

In fact, they didn't give this volume much care at all! Other than the illustrations being impossibly too dark to see clearly, the front cover is bad, with Holo covering most of the title, couldn't they have placed it in front of her, moved it lower down, or better yet, shrink the title slightly so the title doesn't say 'Spice & Woi'! Plus, the paper quality has gone down compared to older volumes! And bare in mind, the older volumes were cheaper (£7.99) than this volume! (£9.99). If the quality of the releases went higher, I would be okay with it, but they are actually LOWERING the paper quality! Even Viz Media with there cheaper releases (£6.99) are better quality than this! Heck, even Tokyopop's later releases were cheaper! (Though, they were released in worst quality than this light novel...)

Did the people who released this volume even care about this series and how it was one of the first light novels to be released in English and made light novels popular in the west!?

Final Thoughts

Overall, this conclusion isn't the best out there, but other than a few minor problems, this final chapter of Spice and Wolf was great! But it's short length might turn away casual readers of the series. For those who are diehard fans of the series, you probably have bought it by now. But for more casual readers, I suggest you buy it cheap or rent it.

The Story 4/5 The Characters 4/5 The Illustrations 2.5/5

Overall 3/5

This volume also contains three short stories which I will review here.

Traveling Merchant and Gray Knight

The Story

The story is about a young Lawrence meeting an old knight.

The story may sound simple and plain, but it is an interesting story. The story is told to Holo by Lawrence after seeing a quote on a weapon, which makes it more interesting because it's like your there too listening to Lawrence's story, so it makes the story more magical and a joy to read.

The Characters

Seeing Lawrence as a young merchant is interesting to see, but it's not as interesting as the knight himself. He is a very interesting character and I won't give away why, you just have to find out for yourself!

Final Thoughts

Overall, this is Definitely one of my favourite short stories from the Space & Wolf universe. If you have half and hour to spare, give this short a go!

The Story 5/5 The Characters 4/5

Overall 4.5/5

Gray Smiling Face and Wolf

The Story & The Characters

The story is about Col's thoughts of Holo and Lawrence.

That's pretty much it. But very few people actually like Col and even those fans already know the thoughts of Col anyway, making this short story pointless.

Final Thoughts

Overall, this story isn't and wasn't wanted. It tells us what we already know and it is an overall boring read. Take my advice to skip this one...

The Story 1/5 The Characters 2/5

Overall 1.5/5

White Path and Wolf

The Story & The Characters

The entire story is a conversation between Holo and Lawrence.

It isn't the most interesting and engaging conversation they have had, but it is still fun to read.

Final Thoughts

Overall, this story is a fun read. Good enough to be the final story? Hell NO! The story feels more fitting in a 'Side Colors' novel than the final story of a great series!

The Story 3/5 The Characters 4/5

Overall 3.5/5

Overall Thoughts

Overall, this novel is a slightly disappointing ending to an otherwise great series. It isn't bad, but it leaves more to be desired. And with the lack of care Yen Press gave the series feels like being given the middle finger.

I recommend you borrow this one from a friend or at you local library or buy it cheap.

Epilogue 3/5 Traveling Merchant and Gray Knight 4.5/5 Gray Smiling Face and Wolf 1.5/5 White Path and Wolf 3.5/5

Overall 3/5

[coldshrugs]

happy starlight from io and estinien ✨🎄

[ladyramora]

Why is Zoraal Ja kinda cute 😳

[aethernoise]

bewitch me

[paintedscales]

Prompt of the Day: A pins B against the wall and kisses them passionately.

For the FFXIV Swap Discord

[windup-dragoon]

Quiet spice shhh

[necromeowncy]

Happy early Valentione's! 🌹

I've collected this past year's favorite wolgraha screenshots (of the spicy variety) on AO3! Tumblr won't let me share these here so just follow the link posted above. This collection includes gposes that were not part of my visual novels, so mostly standalones. It's been a joy creating these! ♥️

[alannah-corvaine]

ɪ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀᴛɪᴘꜱ ɪ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ɪᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ʟɪᴘꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ'ᴍ ᴀ ᴍᴇꜱꜱ

[yayeetisin]

Sunny the kittycat

[elidee-art]

I really don't have an excuse for this. I was playing with my bunny boy's tattoos

gestures vaguely

I think I'm gonna make a "mild spice" tag or something so yall can blacklist if you need to

[bi-disastersoup]

Here we go again, you guys, I still don't understand but have a spicy bun...

(👙📸⤵️)

[yzeltia]

Wolgraha Week

Day 5: Comfort Characters: Keith Summers, G'raha Tia Rating: Explicit Notes: CW Sex

“Raha. Raha, wake up,” Keith cooed, gently stroking his cheek as the Miqo’te violently thrashed in his sleep.

“No, I’ve been…I’ve,” G’raha panted, slowly coming out of his dream, feeling his love carefully stroke over his ears, “Keith! I’ve been shot! I need…I need…”

“It’s okay. You’ve not been shot. You’re in bed with me.”

Kieth lifted the other’s hand then placed it on his chest, giving it a little rub so that G’raha could feel his unblemished chest.  The Miqo’te laced his fingers with his boyfriend’s, shaking as he came down off the adrenaline racing through him from the dream. With a whine, the Scion turned to press his face against Keith’s chest, nuzzling lightly as he took breaths to calm down.

“So I am. The dreams, they feel so real…Like I am back in that body…everything feels so stiff.”

Keith hummed then leaned in, kissing the other cheek.

“No crystal here…or here,” he whispered, moving down to the other’s neck.

G’raha rolled onto his back, letting Keith toss their blanket off them as he trailed kisses lower, each one sending a rush of warmth through the Miqo’te, assuring him that he was all flesh and blood. His leg lifted up on Keith’s shoulder, he shivered then closed his eyes.

“I think you’ve made your point.”

“I’ve only just begun to make a point,” Keith chuckled, kissing the bottom of Miqo’te’s foot.

“None of that or you can go back to your own room,” G’raha huffed, ears folding back shly as his Hyur gave a little nip at his ankle.

“You would just grow restless and come after me.”

Keith leaned forward, cheeks red as he let his length graze over the top of G’raha’s, folding the other’s leg around his waist. The Seeker reached up, pulling the other on top of him as he raised his hips to greet him in full. “I am unsure how I feel that you’ve gone from babbling nervously at the mere mention of physical intimacy and now you fancy yourself an irresistible loverrr.”

Keith moaned softly, kissing up his lover’s chest as his hand slid down the other’s thigh and onto his ass, giving it a firm squeeze, “Am I not? I was trained to be by a rather enthusiastic teacher. A Scion of the Seventh Dawn no less.”

“Your attempts at flattering me are best spent focused elsewhere,” G’raha said, tilting the other’s chin to face him.

“You? I was talking about Archon Y'shtola,” Keith teased, grinning wide before leaning in for a kiss before being stopped by the other’s palm.

“Y-You are not funny! Not in the slightest Keith!”

“I’m a little funny,” the Hyur said under the palm as he shifted his hips, letting his length run down G’raha’s thigh and the flick upward beneath the Seeker’s orbs, “And I think I’ve provided ample distraction, Raha.”

The Scion flushed, feeling the other lift his hips and start to nudge against his entrance. “So you have…Though, maybe you should ground me further then.”

Keith nodded, shifting so that he might angle himself properly before feeling the warmth of the Miqo’te engulf him as he pressed forward. A moan escaped the Hyur as he lowered back down on top of G’raha, rolling his ships in shallow circles as he watched his partner’s face shift from strain to pleasure. Shaking, the Scion’s arms reached around him and pulled him down to bite on his neck.

“Careful,” Keith whined, “Remember how much we were teased the last time you left marks.”

“Let us be teased then.”

Keith groaned as he felt the other’s fangs move and dig back into his shoulder. He started to thrust absently, earning little whines out of the nibbling Miqo’te. A shudder escaped him as he felt run down his chest and drip onto the Scion. Heat spread through his body as the other tightened around him. G’raha’s bite lowered, fangs digging into the man’s clavicle as their bodies rocked together as he squeezed the other within him.

“Raha-ha…wait. No fair…I’ll…” Keith panted before pushing the other’s head back, kissing his love hard as his hand snaked down to grip the Miqo’te’s dripping length.

G’raha smirked in the kiss, lifting his other leg to wrap himself tight around Keith’s waist, gyrating around his cock while thrusting into his hand. He gave a playful bite to the Hyru’s lip, feeling the man flex within him in response. Growling, Keith rolled them over, laying on his back forcing the Miqo’te to unhook his legs and sit back on him. The Scion on top, he cried out, Keith angled now into his sweet spot.

“Now who isn’t playing fair,” the Miqo’te moaned out, tail raising as he bounced steadily while thrusting into Keith’s palm.

Keith chuckled as he caught his breath, free hand on the Scion’s thigh, digging the pads of his finger into his flesh before reaching up to lightly tweak at his love’s nipple. G’raha cried out in response, sitting firmly down on the Hyur’s length before tensing up as he was sent over the edge, painting Keith’s stomach and chest.

G’raha tensed up around him, Keith too came soon after, heels digging into the bed as he lifted the Miqo’te on his lap. Covered in the Miqo’te’s mess, he patted at his stomach then looked up to the flustered Scion. “All this ‘cause of me?”

“Shush,” G’raha ordered, tail thrashing as he crossed his arms and pouted, “Yourrr attempt to comforrrt me is appreciated but I’ve said many times that we need to be morrre preparrred. The bed is now a mess and I’m all wound up. By the time we clean ourselves and change I’ll be rrroused awake and then hungry. You’ll of course fall asleep with ease and when I go to wake you’ll be grrrumpy. Then-”

“How about this,” Keith interrupted, moving to the edge of his bed before standing with the Miqo’te in his arms, “Purr-haps we wash off and go to the purr-fectly unused bed in my cham-purrs.

“Enough mocking,” G’raha huffed before kissing the other as Keith walked them outside and around the corner, “That will be amenable though…Maybe we should think about finding a largerrr sweet in the Annex to sharrrre.”

“Sounds purr-fect.”

[hyzenthlay-kagon]

A Lover's Gift

It's the first Valentione's Day that Hyzenthlay and Thancred are celebrating and Hyzenthlay wanted it to be extra special for Thancred.

AO3

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

         Hyzenthlay walked past the store again.

         She had lost count how many times she had passed it, nervously looking at the window display. They were undergarments—at least Hyzenthlay assumed they were—of lace and silk. Not something she has seen growing up in the Nhaama Desert. Do women of here really wear such things? For what purpose? Hyzenthlay asked herself, eyeing a flimsy laced underthing. She had to admit that they were appealing, with a sudden thought that Thancred would like to see her in something like this. From what she had heard of other women that were entering and exiting the store, their lovers would be hard-pressed to keep their hands off them.

         Thancred already seemed to have a hard time keeping his hands off her. Just the other night she barely had time to close the door before Thancred pinned her against the wall where he proceeded to claim her. She was rendered a boneless mess as she climaxed with Thancred shortly after. The mere thought of that night sent a heated throbbing between her legs. She shifted between her feet, driving the images of Thancred from her mind.

         “He has ruined me.” Hyzenthlay grumbled to herself. Grateful to the Coerthas cold to chill the heat that seemed to always take over her body with the mere thought of a silver-haired rogue.

         “Hyzen?”

         Hyzenthlay whirled to find Tataru standing behind her, wearing a thick, fur-line parka that was dyed her signature pink. She was holding a parcel wrapped in brown paper that was tied with string. It must have been something for the Forgotten Knight where Tataru found herself employed for the time being, gathering intel through the voices of the patrons—both commoner and aristocratic. She did rather well, until Thancred arrived. Not that she did terrible, but Thancred was able to get twice the amount of information. Able to go to places where even Tataru wouldn’t risk venturing. “Every city,” Thancred had said, “has an underbelly.”

         “It’s so good to see you!” Tataru beamed up at Hyzenthlay, “It’s been ages since I’d last seen you.”

         “Not since Thancred left to meet his informant,” Hyzenthlay hugged Tataru, adjusting her body to block the display window.

         “Has he not said where the meeting was?” Tataru pulled away from Hyzenthlay.

         Hyzenthlay shook her head, her now short, dusty rose hair fell over her eyes, “He always tells me he couldn’t risk telling me, or anyone.”

         Tataru patted her arm, “I’m sure he’ll be fine.” She smiled reassuringly, “He’ll be here on Valentione’s Day, don’t you worry.”

         She nodded her head in agreement. Thancred would walk through the fires of hell before letting her down. It was their first Valentione’s Day together since starting their relationship, and Thancred had promised that he wouldn’t miss the holiday, not when he offered to ‘teach’ her why it was such a popular holiday amongst lovers.

         “Did you get Thancred a present?” Tataru asked, thankfully breaking Hyzenthlay from her thoughts.

         Hyzenthlay bit her bottom lip, casting a look over her shoulder to the lingerie shop. Tataru tilted her head to the side, looking past Hyzenthlay. Her eyes grew wide for a moment, darting to look at Hyzenthlay who was now growing red and then back at the shop. One of her mischievous grins that always lead to no good, especially to anyone on the receiving end of them.

         “Hyzen you sly girl,” The grin seemed to grow larger as she shifted her gaze back to Hyzenthlay, “Going to get some sexy underthings for Thancred are we?”

         Words failed Hyzenthlay. Her mouth opened and closed in a failed attempt to explain herself. That she was only looking and was going to get Thancred something else. But that smirk on Tataru's face remained. She had known—all the Scions—knew of Thancred and Hyzenthlay’s relationship. It wasn’t a secret that they were trying to hide.

         “Well, it’s a good thing I’m here,” Tataru grabbed Hyzenthlay by the wrist, “I’ll help you find something extra special.” She dragged Hyzenthlay inside the shop.

         Instantly they were bombarded by the seductive fragrance of the shop, making Hyzenthlay scrunch her nose and leaving her feeling nauseous. Tataru didn’t seem at all phased by the strong, noxious perfume. She was on the hunt. Head on a swivel, eyes scanning the mannequins and racks all the while muttering to herself.

         “Here we are!” Tataru halted in front of one of the mannequins, “I think this one would do, what do you think Hyze?”

         Dressed on the mannequin was a lacey baby doll, one of the most modest of the other lingerie. A balance of innocent and alluring. The sheer material revealing enough as well as concealing enough. The color was of a spring afternoon, a color that many would not associate with Hyzenthlay, but Tataru knew her well enough to know that pink wasn’t her favorite color. It was a pleasant enough color, but never one Hyzenthlay would gravitate to. Blues were more of what Hyzenthlay was drawn too—coming from her tribe’s color back on Nhaama Desert.

         “It’s perfect.” Hyzenthlay reached her hand to touch the soft chiffon and lace that draped over the midsection of the mannequin. “Would Thancred like it?”

         Tataru flagged an attendant over to them, “On you Hyze, he would love it.”

***

         Thancred reached into his coat pocket for what felt like the hundredth time, clenching the small wooden box as if to reassure himself that it was still there. He made his way through the frigid cold to Hyzenthlay’s apartment. She had recently purchased it, not wanting to expand the hospitality of the Fortemp family. Not with her constant coming and going with work to be done against Nidhogg and other issues that needed her attention. When the final paperwork was in place for the unit, she was handed the keys. Thancred was there when she opened the doors to her new living space, and it was there he had made love to her in every spanse of the quarters. Where he would find himself staying, even if Hyzenthlay was not around. It soon became his home as much as it was Hyzenthlay’s.

         “Oh, Master Waters, so good to see you again.” A sprightly Elezen receptionist greeted Thancred as he entered the welcoming warmth of the apartment lobby. “You and Mistress Kagon spending the night together for Valentione’s Day?” She gave Thancred a knowing smile. Even in Ishgard—as proper as they were—did couples fornicate on nights such as Valentione’s Day. Thancred suspected however, the noble men did more fornicating regardless of the day. With or without willing partners, a thought that made him sick to his stomach.

         He shook away the disturbing thoughts, tonight was not about the distaste he held for the nobility of Ishgard. Tonight was about Hyzenthlay. Tonight, he would finally say the words that he had known he wanted to tell her from the very beginning.

         “Regretfully, I came too late to take Hyzenthlay out to enjoy what Ishgard has to bring.” Thancred fiddled with the box in his coat pocket, “So a quiet evening together will just have to do.”

         “Much too cold in Ishgard to do much, many couples here simply stay within their own homes.” She mused, “So I say you two are keeping tradition here.”

         “That’s certainly reassuring.”

         She bid Thancred farewell, wishing him a happy Valentione’s Day as he made his way toward Hyzenthlay’s room. She lived on the mid-levels of the complex, fighting with the complex manager all the while as they were pushing her to get the larger suites on the top levels where the wealthy reside. But Hyzenthlay was firm with her choice to live in the smaller suites that fit her needs just fine. She wanted others to not suffer a rather arduous climb to reach her if she was ever in need.

         Thancred stood outside of her door for a few moments to steady his racing heart that wanted to burst out of his chest. Not caused by the four flights of stairs, no, the only reason why his heart would race so fast is waiting behind the door in front of him. He unlocked the door, greeted by a line of tea candles and rose petals that formed a path toward their bedroom. He shrugged off his coat after he locked the door, following the path with a growing smile on his face. He approached the bedroom door, that was adorned with various sizes and colors of hearts cut out of paper.

         “Hyzenthlay,” Thancred opened the door, seeing more candles lit that created a soft, romantic glow to their room. Rose petals were scattered about the floor, wafting their floral sent in the air. His eyes scanned upward; his heart leapt to his throat as he drank in the vision that lay on their bed. He dropped his coat on the ground, his visible eye growing wide as his blood ran hot in his veins. “ By the Twelve .”

         Lounging on the bed was Hyzenthlay, wearing nothing but a sky blue, lacey baby doll that pushed her breasts just so. She smiled shyly at Thancred, running her hand up her thigh, pushing the chiffon material of the skirt up to reveal a matching smallclothes. If that is what Thancred could call it for how little it covered her nether region. He made a noise that he didn’t know he could make. A mix between a moan and a whine.

         “You wicked thing.” Thancred growled, closing the bedroom door behind him as he stepped further into the bedroom. His visible eye never leaving Hyzenthlay, who looked at him with hooded eyes. “Had I known that I would come home to this waiting for me, I wouldn’t have been so late.”

         He unlaced his boots, with slow, shaking hands, fighting every fiber of his being from pouncing on that bed. If Hyzenthlay was going to play the game, he was going to make her wait. He kicked his boots to the side, not caring where they landed. He focused next on unbuttoning his shirt, drawing closer to the bed. Thancred discarded his shirt to the floor, leaving him only in his pants as he prowled onto the bed like a cat stalking its prey. He hovered over Hyzenthlay, laying her down gently with a wicked, crooked smile.

         “How should I enjoy this gift?” Thancred breathed as his calloused hand roamed up her leg, “Should I go slow and savor you?” He tested the elastic of her small clothes causing Hyzenthlay’s breath to hitch. “Or,” he adjusted his weight over her, pressing his harden length between her legs, “should I go fast and hard?”

         Hyzenthlay arched her hips up to meet Thancred, “You can do whatever you’d like,” her voice a low timbre, “I’m here for your pleasure.” She reached up to carefully slip her hand under his bandana that covered his eye, pushing it off his face where it fell somewhere on the bed. “Tonight, I’m yours.”

         Thancred snapped.

         He forgot all about his plan of taking it slow. He kissed her, not his normal soft and searching kisses. This was claiming, wild and unchecked, like he wanted to devour her. His tongue swept inside her mouth, exploring her, tasting her. Just as she was doing with him. His hands shaking as they roamed her body, feeling her through the flimsy material of her lingerie. She writhed under his touch, making the most delicious sounds that Thancred got drunk off of.

         Never has any women ever has such an effect on him. He had prided himself in the art of sex. His technique, the response that he elicited. But they were only bodies, distant and evaluated. But with Hyzenthlay, there was no distance, no evaluation. Not just two bodies. They were more, something that Thancred could not form words for of what it was.

         He slipped his hand past Hyzenthlay’s flimsy smallclothes, feeling her slick on his fingers. Hyzenthlay let out a breathy moan when he slid his finger inside her sex. He curled his finger just so, grazing the sweet spot that had her arching her back off the bed.

         “Thancred,” She moaned, reaching for his wrist to stop his action. “You should unwrap your gift,” She guided his hand away from her nether regions, a slight hiss left her lips from the loss of contact, “so you could better enjoy it.”

         Hyzenthlay brought his hand up to her lips. She gazed at him through her thick lashes as she sucked on the finger that was inside her not long ago. All the heat rushed to his groin, straining against his trousers. Oh, how she was the end of him.

         Thancred slipped his finger from her kiss-bruised lips so that he could crash his lips with hers once more. His hands roaming under her top, breaking the kiss long enough to slip it over her head and discarding it haphazardly to the floor. He moved next to her small clothes, slowly moving them down her legs. He took a moment to admire her. Thancred has seen women bare before him, but none of it mattered. Not when Hyzenthlay was before him now.

         “You are still overdressed.” Hyzenthlay tugged at the waistband of his trousers.

         Thancred sat up on his knees, unbuckling his pants. In one motion he removed both his trousers and undergarments, kicking them off the bed. He noticed Hyzenthlay biting her lip. Her eyes on his impressive length. He would have laughed, no matter how many times they had seen one another naked, Hyzenthlay always had that innocence about her. Though not that of the virgin as she was on their first night together.

         He moved back to his petite Au Ra lover, easing her down on the pillows with slow, affectionate reverence. His breathing grew uneven as he interlaced their fingers together, lifting them next to Hyzenthlay’s head as he guided himself into her entrance. On the first nudge, Thancred claimed Hyzenthlay’s lips, swallowing her moans. Her hand gripping tighter in Thancred’s as he continued to gently thrust into her velvety heat. He felt dizzy as he sat fully at the hilt, remaining still for Hyzenthlay to adjust to the stretch.

         Hyzenthlay’s breathing grew uneven, hot against his skin. Her nails digging into his back as Thancred withdrew from the kiss to see her face. Slowly, he pulled out then thrust back in with excruciating slowness. He bent down to kiss her just below her horn, and whispered the words that were always on his lips for her, “I love you.”

         A shaky gasp left Hyzenthlay’s lips as she stared up at Thancred. The smile she gave him would forever be ingrained in his memory, in his blood. The smile that was full of so much love and understanding. “I love you too.” She wrapped her legs around Thancred’s waist, pulling him impossibly closer.

         “I love you. Thancred emphasized with a hard, deeper thrust. “I love you.” His lips locked with Hyzenthlay’s. His tongue scraping the roof of her mouth, tasting her, claiming her. His whole body buzzing with each thrust—each time their bodies connected, rewiring so that all he knew and ever will know is Hyzenthlay. All you ever need and want is this. His body sang and he believed it. Hyzenthlay was all he ever wanted.

         Hyzenthlay jutted her hip to meet Thancred’s thrusts. Her head flew back into the pillows, giving Thancred clearance to her throat. He sucked and bit the base of her throat, kissing away the small hurt.

         “Thancred,” Hyzenthlay writhed under him, “yes, right there! Oh !”  She could barely form words, “I-I can’t.” She clawed at his back.

Thancred grit his teeth, his thrusts becoming staggered and frantic. “You can, Love.” He lifted Hyzenthlay up until she was straddling him, “Just hold on to me, I’ll take care of you.”

         The new angle drove him deeper into her, sending Thancred nearly to the edge. Hyzenthlay clamped around him, her hips stuttering as his name left her lips. Thancred rode out her organism, coming shortly after. Hyzenthlay was left a shaking mess, collapsing into Thancred.

         He hissed as he slid out of Hyzenthlay, kissing her temple before he laid her down. She nestled against the pillows, her chest rising and falling into a steady rhythm. “What have I done to deserve you?”

         Hyzenthlay smiled up at him, “Just being you,” He reached up to cup the side of his face, running the thumb on his cheek, just below his silvery-blue eye, “that is all I want.”

         Thancred turned to kiss her palm, “I think I have something else you may want.”

         Hyzenthlay cocked her head to the side as Thancred left their bed to his discarded jacket near the door. He fished through the pocket, Hyzenthlay sat up to watch him with the candlelight dancing along his back. He returned to bed, suddenly feeling nervous. Thancred handed Hyzenthlay the box, grateful his hands weren’t shaking.

         “Truth be told,” He confessed, “I was not on a mission all this time. I was getting this commissioned for you and had to travel to Ul’Dah to retrieve it. Thus, my delay getting here.”

         Hyzenthlay opened the box with trembling hands, “Oh Thancred,” She pulled out a delicate, yet sturdy silver chain that housed a heart shaped pendant made of the same metal as the chain. “It’s beautiful.”

         “Open the pendant.” His voice was low.

         She held the pendant, carefully prying it open. A gasp left her lips, looking up at Thancred and back down at the locket. Framed inside the heart was a photo of Thancred. How he was able to get a portrait small enough to fit within a locket was impressive within itself. Let alone getting one with such detail. It was like looking at Thancred in real life.

         “I know I haven’t always been around.” Thancred held Hyzenthlay’s hand in his, so small and delicate, “So, I wanted you to carry me with you always.”

         He took the locket from Hyzenthlay, motioning her to turn around, that she obliged. Gingerly he looped the necklace around her neck, kissing the back of her neck as he clasped the chain. Hyzenthlay turned around, Thancred happy the chain sat at just the right length for her to still see the locket comfortably when desired, but not too low on her chest so it wouldn’t be a bother. Just shy of touching the valley of her breasts.

         “I love it.” She pecked Thancred on the lips, “I’ll never take it off.” She beamed at him, clasping the locket in her hands. Her eyes shaping into crescents that he loved so much.

         Thancred kissed her. Thanking the Twelve that he found her, that he was allowed to love her. He nestled them into the sheets, pulling Hyzenthlay against him. “Happy Valentione’s Day.” He kissed the top of her head. Feeling at home with Hyzenthlay snuggling into him, sleep taking hold as the last of the candlelight flickered into peaceful darkness.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

My spice is very rusty, but I hoped you all enjoyed it! I also hate trying to format everything to tumblr... so if anything looks wonky, please let me know.

[keicordelle]

The Daily Inconveniences of an Au Ra: Taste

If there was a second reason his companions didn't like Keshet's cooking, it was that they all grew up on nothing but boring old bread and had the palates to show for it. There were toddlers back on the Steppe who had more refined tastes than this lot of cookie munching Sharlayans.

Well, alright, they weren't all that bad. Thancred could handle some heat, and Estinien would eat just about anything you set in front of him with minimal complaint - at least, when they were in front of other people. He certainly had no bones about grumbling under his breath, and if it were just the two of them he'd make his distaste known, but by and large the three of their palates aligned well enough that if it were just left to the three of them, mealtime would not be a horrible affair.

The rest of them though...

Keshet grimaced at the plate of cakes and confections laid before Urianger, each one sweet enough to melt off his tongue all by itself. Eating a whole plate of them would make him keel over on the spot, he was quite certain. Yet Urianger dug into it with vigor, fending off thieving hands from the twins between every bite.

"Thy countenance betrayeth thy distaste," Urianger told him, pulling his plate out of the way of Alisaie's fingers as she tried to take advantage of his distraction.

"I don't understand how you can stomach so much sugar, but even the slightest bit of habanero makes you hurl."

Urinager flushed, hiding his face behind a cupcake. "Thy lips uttereth falsehoods. 'Twas simply a bout of nausea. ...Intense nausea. Perhaps a spot of retching. But I did not 'hurl', as thou sayest."

"And that was not 'a little bit' of habanero!" Alisaie protested. "I couldn't feel my tongue for three days after that! And don't even get me started on that cactus flower sauce you used last time."

"Hey, that sauce is great. I love the way it tingles through my mouth and all the way down my throat."

"That's because it's poisonous, Keshet. It's not supposed to tingle. That's literal poison."

Keshet rolled his eyes. "We eat that all the time on the Steppe. It's perfectly fine for you. You lot just can't handle a little bit of spice."

"Your upbringing concerns me," Alisaie said, peering at him through narrowed eyes.

"Thy constitution far exceeds our own. Perhaps thy gustatory system functioneth not in the same fashion as our own."

After Urianger clarified the meaning of 'gustatory' for him, Keshet shrugged lightly. "I wouldn't doubt it. Dining with you lot is torture. Maybe we should have a taste test to find out!"

The two of them blanched. "Ah, no, I don't think that will be necessary."

"That is one mystery I am content to leave unsolved."

Read the rest of the series on Ao3!

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[miriael-the-cozy-witch]

Fear the Reaper, Part 2

This is part 2 of how my WoL made their pact with their voidsent, and became a reaper! I hope you enjoy it! Click here for part 1! Click here for part 3! Click here for Part 4!

I didn't like Ul'dah much.

I mean... It was fine... As someone who grew up in a bloody cave, you'd think I'd love it's stonework and crowded streets. But no, for numerous reasons Ul'dah sat like an unpleasant taste in the back of my throat.

Firstly, it was hot. Stupid hot.

I flapped out the folds of my overcoat, trying to get some breathable air into it, leaning further into the shade. Even in this isolated street corner, the very air simmered in temperatures above what I could tolerate, feeling moist and sticky all over my skin.

How people lived here I had no idea.

Secondly, was the wealth.

Not that there was wealth, no, that wasn't surprising. This was the golden jewel of the desert after all. Getting rich here was something of a national pastime.

It was the division of it that didn't sit well with me.

Much like the city's walls, there was a very clear divide among people who had wealth, and those that did not.

It was a difference I recognized. Gridania wasn't always accepting to Duskwights. Once their walls were meant to keep people exactly like me out.

Thirdly, it was the site of one of my greatest failings.

The Coup in Blue, the Parting Glass, the dinner of the poisoned chalice.

That infamous night had many names, and Ul'dah was never the same after it. There were still wild conspiracy theorists in the streets to this very day, declaring that Nanamo had really died, replaced by someone in illusion magic or a long lost sister. That I really had killed the Sultana that day. That the Syndicate was really in charge of the city, using 'Nanamo' as a puppet queen.

If they'd met Nanamo since, I'd imagine they'd quickly revise their theories.

I wanted to laugh, but the memory of that night still tasted sour. Because of the scheming of this city, I'd lost one of my first friends in this life.

Papalymo.

I breathed out a heavy sigh, full of grief and longing for my mentor from so long ago, wondering what he'd think of my predicament.

Because here I was, slinking through the alleys for someone I wasn't even sure existed. 'Ul'dah' and 'Drusilla' wasn't exactly a lot to go on.

Pearl Lane was a bit quieter than Ruby Road, but not by much. Here men and women of all races eyed each other up like prize fighters. Who was a threat, who wasn't? I could almost see the silent considerations at each guardsman and mobster considered the other. Who was a rival, who was a ally, who was part of a competing crew for that contract? Who was a new arrival?

And as much as I tried to stay in the shadows, when one of their practised eyes spotted me silently evaluating them in the darkness of my shade covered corner, they very quickly looked away. All it ever took was one glance.

The ears marking me as an Elezen. The eyepatch over my left eye. The odd looking sword at my hip.

Not once did they approach me, instead usually moving to put a malm or two between me and them.

But I still didn't know what I was looking for. I writhed in the heat, cursing my luck. What was I doing here?

At least the weather made it all but impossible to consider the memory of Zenos and Fandaniel. It was hard to even think about being cold in this heat.

"Well. Fancy meeting you here."

Gods damn it, I hated when people walked in my blind side.

I turned my head up and left, and was surprised to Thancred, kneeling on the roof just above my head. I didn't even know he'd left Broken Glass. The fact that he was here beside me, of all places in the world to be, spoke of my friend's wanton to meddle.

He'd probably heard about my outburst at Estinien.

I said nothing, hoping my pained expression was doing enough of the talking.

Thancred nodded, as if I'd said something poignant, or graced him with a hello.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" he said, raising his hand to his brow to squint down the alley.

I let out a small hushed laugh, hoping he was joking, wishing I had a bucket of water to dump over my head.

"What are you doing here Thancred?" I asked, a bit more ice in my voice than he really deserved.

"Well, since your... interesting reunion with Zenos, Urianger and I have been trying to track down an ancient Garlean order."

I felt my one eyebrow rise, since the other one was just dead muscle. That was... not the response I expected.

"Oh?"

Thancred jumped off the roof, not enough of a fall to really bother him, landing neatly just a few feet from me. The surprise of his sudden appearence still startled a few passerby, but disappeared when he leaned against the wall beside me, his eyes beginning to scan the crowd. "In helping some of the refugees at Broken Glass, a few of them made passing mention of 'the reapers in the hills.'"

My arms stiffened, my hand almost on instinct reaching for my blade, the image of a scythe cutting through the air... Reaching for Alisae and G'raha...

I shook my head free of the memory, still feeling that horrid sword leaving my rotting hands to dispel the creature that had erupted from my body.

"What's so special about these 'reapers'?" I asked, more out of the desire to get myself back in the present moment, and not remember the cold snow and dead fingers.

Thancred shrugged. "The locals said they made pacts with Voidsent for starters."

If I was tense before, I was a chain pulled taut now.

"I'm thinking that Zenos picked up a few old habits from his forebears." Thancred said it with a smile, but upon seeing my face, turned his gaze to the people passing us by, the smile slowly disappearing like a plant starved for water.

Silence stretched between us for some time. Thancred never questioned why I spoke so little. I would speak when I was good and ready, yet another artifact from growing up in the caves of Gelmorra. You only spoke when absolutely sure nothing would hear you down there. Sound bounced malms when trapped underground, so whatever you had to say had to pretty damn important.

And Thancred enjoyed the quiet, or seemed to, just as much as I did. It was one of the things I appreciated about him.

I chose my next words with care. "So... You think remains of this ancient order are... here. In Ul'dah? And that they could tell us about Zenos and his new abilities?"

He nodded, crossing his arms as his eyes continued to dart between passerby.

"Word is there's a jump in Voidsent activity outside the walls, and a new mercenary group making waves called the 'Lemures'. Doesn't sound like much, until you convert that odd word to the Garlean tongue."

His eyes finally shifted to mine, as he said his next words with gravitas.

"It means 'Spirits of the dead' in Old Garlean."

As dread pooled in my stomach, I was beginning to think I was in the right place.

"You there! You two! Yes you!"

Both me and Thancred turned in alarm to see a flustered Hyur making a beeline towards us. He looked to be an a merchant, or attendant to a greater merchant, his coat made of some heavy green fabrics of high quality.

"I'm so sorry to bother you sirs, but the pair of you look like quite a cut above the rest of these ruffians on the street, and I'm wondering if you'd be interested in making quite a bit of coin..."

I could almost feel the exasperated sigh echoing from Thancred.

I wasn't too thrilled about this either, but it was exactly the kind of request I thrived in doing. I elbowed Thancred gently.

"Don't we only have a few more days before the assault? Why don't you go back to Broken Glass, I'll take care of this and keep an eye out for your missing cult."

Thancred mouthed a silent 'thank you' before beginning to step away, but the attendant wasn't having it.

"Really? Just you? Don't get me wrong you look fearsome, but the pair-"

Thancred's laugh was boisterous and humorous as he clapped me on the shoulder.

"Oh good sir, I quite assure you, she will be all you need and more. Trust me."

The merchant looked confused, about to say something, but Thancred turned on his boot to walked down the lane. He waved over his head, his voice already distant as he said goodbye.

"See you at Broken glass Miri."

I wanted to curse him as he retreated in the direction of the aetheryte. Turning back to the merchant in annoyance, I waited for the moment of recognition. The moment where he put the pieces together what 'Miri' could possibly be short for and recognized who I was, who exactly he was about to hire.

But it didn't happen. Some people just didn't listen to the news, too willfully ignorant.

"Oh, your name is Miri? Wonderful! Please, follow me while I tell you about my employers troubles..."

It was so normal, it was nearly bland. At least normal for Ul'dah. A merchant being accosted by some thugs, some extra muscle was needed. A 'threat' of violence to offset more violence.

Tale as old as time. Not that it ever worked.

Most likely, this would turn into a small skirmish that I could handle easily. I'd done it a hundred times, and I'd do it a hundred more. Even if my opponents recognized me, they ended up assuming that despite my fame and glory, knowing I'd thrown gods into the dirt, that just because I was one woman and they were two dozen, that numbers would overcome quality.

And it never did.

I felt... better. It was good to be strong. That despite everything that had happened, everyday people would need strong protectors. That I was still me. Still undoubtedly the strongest woman in this city, if not the entire damn continent. I felt that comfort settle about my shoulders like armour.

I meet his employer, a Lalafell high merchant named Jijilyo, who for a moment wondered if I'm part of the very crew that's after him. It's only once his attendant tells him that I'm the hired help that he warms to me.

Walking behind the merchant and his retainer, I do my best to ignore both, keeping my weathered eye on the lookout for both the gang I've been hired to counteract, and the Garlean cultists.

"... unsavoury group known as the Lemures." I near stumbled half a step, suddenly latched onto Jijilyo and his attendant with my full attention.

"Their leader demands my master part with some of his considerable wealth, or... Well, I'll just tell you they call her the 'Reaper,' and leave the rest to your imagination." The attendant's speech was touched with the bite of fear, a mix of respect and terror.

It seemed Nymeia had set me on an interesting path today.

"Rumors abound of their origins. Some say they are the detritus of some barbaric nation. They flout our laws and threaten their betters with impunity." Jijilyo said with barely held disdain.

I was beginning to like these Lemure's already. I nodded along, saying nothing as we walked down the crowded Ruby Road. Locals who knew better gave us the right of way. The others who didn't got one glance from my eye before moving. Jijilyo kept talking as if he wasn't in a crowded market.

"They're led by a dead-eyed killer who draws her scythe at the smallest slight. Refuse their payments of coin, and she takes her share of your lifeblood instead. Rubbish, I say 'the Reaper' is naught but a toothless bandit."

"... Interestin' theory you have there. Care to test it?"

Where?

I dashed around in a half circle, my eye finally spotting the speaker, leaning up against the corner of a wall. I hadn't noticed her with my attention so focused on Jijilyo and his attendant. Her moment was picked perfectly, reminding me of a Scorpion in ambush, sitting in it's dark burrow waiting for it's unsuspecting prey to walk past.

For it was exactly what she'd done.

I felt the handle of my blade in my hand while Jijilyo cursed some spitting remark, but I didn't care. I'd found what I was looking for.

Thancred's cultists. Jijilyo's bandits. The name spoken in the depths of Amdapor.

Drusilla. I'm sure of it.

"Hirin' more help while our ledgers remain unbalanced? You wouldn't be tryin' to wriggle your way out of payin' us for a job well done, would you?"

That little rotten bastard. Gods, do I hate Ul'dah.

I wanted to see if I could kick Jijilyo over the city wall, but I didn't take my eyes off the woman, the unknown threat that she was.

She looked to be an older Hyur, but if she was Garlean... The circlet on her head would perfectly hide the gem that marked her people. Her clothes were purposed for long treks, but could've just as easily been tailored for the smoothness of motion required for combat.

But most terrifyingly, the scythe on her back, it's black metal a promise of carnage.

Unable to take my eye off of it, for suddenly, it felt like I was back at that damn dinner table in the tower of Babil, breathing cursed breaths with half useless lungs that wern't mine... Looking at Zenos and that cursed looking weapon on his back.

That wasn't me. I'm here. Feel the stifling heat, the familiar grasp of your sword. I'm alive. I'm alive damn it.

The oversized gardening tool on her back suggested multiple things.

It was a complicated weapon to use. I'd known it's grip ever since Fufucha had put one in my hand to learn the Forest's bounty. I'd tried using it as a weapon for a lark, and found it serviceable, but difficult to master.

But the one on this woman's back, was for one thing, and one thing only.

It's harvest was blood.

Paying attention to the conversation once again, I realized that the conversation had moved form Jijilyo's interesting take on debts payable to mercenaries to...

Me.

"Hmm. One does wonder how you found yourself with a bodyguard of such uncommon mettle."

The woman was staring at me. Her weathered gaze examining every tension of my body, and I knew she was gauging my prowess.

"Aye, not an onze of fear in that gaze, and not a mote of puffed-up arrogance, either. This lass, my dear Jijilyo, is the genuine article. What we in the mercenary trade call the 'killer instinct.'"

My good eye squinted at that word.

Oh she wanted to talk about death? I'd killed. I'd killed plenty. The bodies of dragons, the tempered, corrupted, Ascians and gods both. My blade knew the blood of many.

The woman seemed to almost smile at the expression on my face, turning one final time to Jijilyo beside me.

"How's this? For the sake of our long-standin' friendship, I'll make it simple. Allow me to take this adventurer off your hands, and the debt is forgiven."

I raised my eyebrow as Jijilyo stated some surprise at this offer. It was a good offer.

But I was beginning to think it meant I'd be paying some price in his stead.

In an instant, Jijilyo wasn't a complete idiot, the offer was taken. the merchant and his attendant put big steaps between them and the scythe weilding woman, Leaving me alone with he despite the crowds still shuffling around us.

Her smile was filled with a promise of malice. "As for you, adventurer, it seems you've been made a free agent. But if you're still inclined to put those instincts of yours to use, come and visit our headquarters in Pearl Lane." She winked, somehow threateningly.

"The door's open."

I said nothing, staring at her with my hand still ready to draw my blade as she slunk down the street, and around the corner.

Suddenly alone, both none the richer and none the wiser for my troubles, I set off to follow her.

Pearl lane was not small, nor did I have Thancred's tracking skills. I thought for a moment that I'd lost her, never to see the old woman with the scythe ever again, before a swordsman standing guard over a sturdy door caught my eye and motioned me urgently towards him.

"You're the adventurer? The one who just had a dealing with that Jijilyo character?" He looked better armed than most, a sturdy shield on his back, a sword at his hip, a cap hiding his forehead.

A Garlean.

Thancred's cultists indeed, it seemed.

I nodded.

He motioned me to the heavy door, knocking in a series of rapid fire starts, a code of some sort to whoever was inside. A moment later, and I found myself inside a small office, where the woman sat at an oversized desk, the giant scythe leaning against the high backed chair she sat on.

"Boss, the guest of honour's arrived." The guardsman beside me intoned.

I locked my gaze with the woman once again, wondering how this was going to go. I didn't even know what I was here for. All I could hope was that she had answers.

Her sly grin made me want to beat those very answers from her. Something about her... just reeked of violence and evil. As if she was a blasted voidsent herself. "Ah, I knew you wouldn't pass up my offer. Got a hunger for somethin' more tasty than a pile of coin."

The words almost seemed perfectly poised to slide like a dagger under my defences, my heart lurching in my chest with hope.

"The Champion of Eorzea herself, appearing before me. Never thought I'd see the day."

Ah.

The guardsman did a double take beside me, his hand reaching for his blade, but the woman held a hand to stop him, her gaze not leaving mine.

"Aye, I've heard all about you. It's hard not to in this line of work. The stories paint you as ferocity incarnate, a force of nature few have survived."

It sounded for a moment like a challenge. My hand griped my blade in readiness. I'd had too many tests of my skills over the years, would-be mentors assured of themselves to be my betters. But her eyes glistened with mirth.

"Peace, friend. I've no desire to put the killer to the proof personally. I don't have a death wish. You can call me-"

"Drusilla." I said quietly, the first word I'd spoken in her presence.

Silence stretched between us for a moment, but if anything, her smile got wider.

"You... know of me?" She asked, leaning forward on the table to rest her chin on her hands.

I nodded, taking a single step forward, my hand still on my blade.

"I've heard your name." I said quietly, my voice a knife through the silence. "Once." I recalled the voice in the darkness perfectly, as if it's breath was still on my skin.

She was silent, staring at me for something I didn't recognize. "Leave us." Drusilla intoned a breath later, her eyes not moving from mine, but the command obvious to who it was to.

"Boss." The guardsman nodded, before stepping out the door we'd come, leaving me alone with Drusilla.

Once the door was closed, she picked out a small black stone out of her pocket, sliding it over the desk to a rest in front of me.

A soul crystal.

It sat there ominously, with all the subtly of Dalamud falling from the sky.

"I did have a job for you in mind. But you have... somethin' you need to sort out before you do anything for me."

I didn't know what she was saying, what she was insinuating, but I took another step closer.

"What are you?" I asked, the feeling of threat still not leaving my body. The aura of her very person felt... wrong.

"A Reaper." She stated, as if this answered anything. The look of my face must've showed my confusion, because after a sigh, she explained.

"Years ago, I made a pact with a voidsent... For power. For revenge. For... all the stupid reasons someone does. All of them noble, but yet it still put me on the path of blood."

She pointed to the soulstone.

"That, is mine. It allows us to make the pact. It belonged to the grandmaster of the Lemure before me, and the grandmaster before him and so on. To pick it up, to attune with it, is to become a Reaper like me. To know the call of the void. To meld with a hunger that you can't ever separate from."

She flicked her gaze back to me, as her words settled into my bones.

"And that's just if you're made of the stuff I think you are. That's not even talking about the pact."

I took another quiet and tentative step forward. Unsure if I was stepping towards my doom.

"What is the pact?" I asked, my voice somehow not shaking despite the terror I felt in my gut.

Drusilla shrugged. "That's between you and the particular voidsent you make your pact with. Some just want to be fed the souls of your enemies. Some want to experience life here on the source. The pact gives them the gift of gab, as it were. Well, that and then some." Drusilla smiled as if I was in on some joke.

I was increasingly feeling like I was being the butt end of that joke.

"And what do you gain from a pact?" I asked, taking one more step. The stone was within reach now, I could just take it.

Drusilla's eyes clouded over, as she looked far away to something long ago.

"Power." She whispered.

I breathed in, tensing as my fingers finally left the hilt of my sword, reaching for the stone. The desire to save my world, my friends, my family... All from the madness of Zenos and the inevitability of the Final Days.

It was here for the taking.

I paused in mid-air, wondering.

Fury, is this what you want of me? Hydaelyn? Nymeia?

I asked all of my protectors, my gods, if this was what was fated for me.

The Fury, the patron I'd had since birth. I invoked her with my spear, yet she'd failed me. I'd lost an eye screaming her name bleeding in the dirt of Rhalgar's Reach.

Hydaelyn, who claimed me as her champion, despite never having made the choice to enter her service. Sometimes I felt more her tool than her child, and her silence ever since the ship entering sharlayan harbour... The secrets she still kept... It tested my patience.

Nymeia, the goddess of fate. She guided us all, did she not? What would stop her from fating me to this path, or from it? Did I really have a choice? Did it even matter?

All of this to take up my enemies bargain once more, to spite him. To adopt his weapon, take up the same bargain that he'd made, so that maybe this time, I would be strong enough to end him once and for all. And then, have be strong enough to save the gods damned world from the Final Days.

"And gods, what power you could wield, with everything you have on offer I wonder." Drusilla intoned, a hand rubbing at her chin. Seeming to speak to my exact hope as if she'd read my mind. "You could be the best of us."

My fingers were just an ilm from the stone.

My gods had no answers for me.

I brushed the face of the stone with the tip of my finger, suddenly filled with a yearning I could not deny.

I picked up the stone.

Drusilla watched me as I held it in my hand, It's metal cool in my palm, a balm against the stifling heat, my eye taking in it's black onyx, the carved symbol of yellow in it's face.

And slowly, that breath of fresh coolness settled into my skin as not my memories, but the muscle memories of a dozen or more masters of void and scythe settled into my muscles. Suddenly I could feel how my grip in holding a scythe when I'd tried using as a weapon so long ago was just wrong.

That I knew that spinning it just so would throw weight into a cut. That a wide arc was some of it's most powerful attacks. That a sudden stop and pull was violent and messy, but brutal and effective.

And that once paired with a voidsent in a pact... That sycthes were perfect for combat.

All that aether and blood spilled, was perfect food for pactmates.

Pactmates.

I shuddered as the word became familiar in my consciousness.

The coolness settled into my skin, sending a wave of goosebumps up my back, and I could've swore the cursed temperature dropped a few degrees. The heat suddenly not so stifling...

And there, just barely audible... Was a quiet whisper in my ear, the trace of teeth on my earlobe.

Good... Come back.

I looked around, trying to find the source of the whisper, a sudden lurch in the pit of my stomach pulling me towards the door. I needed to follow that feeling. It was like a slow tug across space and time. I eyed the door greedily, as if it were my next meal and I a starving pauper.

That was how needy this... this tug felt.

"That's it. I knew you had what it takes."

I turned my gaze in alarm towards Drusilla, who no longer reeked of threat. Now... She felt like a kindred spirit. A friend. I knew the movements of her body in combat as if I'd practised beside her my whole life.

Standing in a sudden rush, she did not reach for her weapon, but instead walked over to to a tall cabinet, opening it to reveal an aged and pockmarked scythe, it's age not betraying it's deadliness.

"This was my grandfathers. And now, it is yours." She plucked it from it's hanger, the weight while looking stupidly heavy, looked light as my own blade in her grip. She held it out to me, as if a present on my name day.

The soul crystal was still in my hand, and much like the others in my collection, now felt... a part of me. Separating from it felt like throwing away a limb. I pocketed it for now, determined to find a spot for it in a necklace or bracelet, now looking towards my new weapon with excitement and dread.

"Go. Find your avatar, make your pact, and then come back to me." Drusilla said quietly, placing the scythe into my waiting hands with all the grace of a mother placing a untenable burden onto her child.

Little did I know how true that metaphor would come to be.

[mistybaldesion]

I'm inviting everyone to come celebrate their love for Krile,the best girl!It can be WoL/NPC, NPC/NPC and Romantic,poly,platonic any way you want!

SFW only please but some mild spice OK.

Please cover spoilers