#the roses were embroidered. and they were actually Above the belt not below it

[cozylittleartblog]

doodle of a dress i wore in a dream .....

[leggything]

Package Notification Pt.1

Package Notification

The subject line caught my attention as is flashed in the corner of my monitor. I clicked on the notification and read that a delivery had arrived at my apartment and would be held at the front desk until I was able to retrieve it. I wasn’t expecting anything but quickly put it out of my mind, it was probably a free trial I forgot to cancel or something. I deleted the email and went back to the report I had been drafting, hitting the back button on my phone a couple of times to replay the last few seconds of the podcast I had been listening to.

I left work a bit early. It was Friday and I wanted to beat the crowds on the train home. Unfortunately I wasn’t quite early enough to find a seat so by the time I walked through the door of my building I was only thinking about my bed.

The desk attendant perked up as I stepped in, “Hey Andy,” he said “I was just sorting the mail and a package came for you. Let me quick grab it.”

“Oh thanks so much Sean,” I said, pulling my headphones out of ear, “I would have totally forgotten.”

“No problem dude,” Sean replied as he rummaged behind the desk. He was a sweet kid, just out of college. His family was close the folks that owned our building so he usually came back to help run things over summers.

“And— here you are!” He said, as he popped back into view, blowing away a stray curl that had fallen in front of his eyes, “see you around!”

“Thanks again Sean, happy Friday!” I said, waving as I opened the door to the stairwell.

I turned the package over in my hands as I climbed the three flights to the apartment. It wasn’t a meal delivery kit or a pack of razors as I had suspected, just an unassuming grey plastic package with a normal UPS label. No return address for some reason. After fumbling for my key I unlocked the door, set my bag down and slipped off my shoes. Friday at last. It felt good to kick my shoes off after standing for so long.

Package still in hand I went to the couch and tore open its grey plastic as I sat down. Inside the bag my hands felt smooth woven fabric and something else that was stiffly textured. Out of the bag came an embroidered tunic and, as they unrolled in my hand, a pair of soft grey footed tights. My face flushed as I realised what I had received. A ballet costume.

I felt a mix of confusion and excitement. I certainly would have remembered if I had ordered something like this. I loved ballet, the beautiful precision of movement, the romance of the storylines, but really I was in it for the dancers. I loved watching them move, muscular yet flexible, lithe and powerful. The way their costume tights hugged every curve of their calves and thighs, squeezing each cheek of their powerful asses and the curve of their pronounced bulges, it was heaven. I definitely didn’t place the order for this costume, but it certainly didn’t come to me by mistake.

Reluctantly setting the tights and tunic down on the table, I glanced into the package again, looking to see if there was anything else. No shoes or dance belt, but there was a small piece of paper. I reached back in and pulled out the rough piece of card-stock. A note was printed on in flowing script:

Hope this turns your dream into reality.

x

Now I was nervous. I wasn’t exactly open about my, ahem, love of ballet. My closest friends and previous partners didn’t even know, and yet someone had anonymously sent gear to my home which meant my big secret wasn’t as secret as I thought. I pulled out my phone, there was one person who I had connected with online about ballet stuff, but they definitely didn’t know my address and I hadn’t heard for them in a week or so. Nonetheless I sent out a text:

Hey, I just got some ballet gear in the mail. You didn’t send me anything did you?

I was a little nervous and needed to chill out so I went into the kitchen to grab a beer from the fridge. Taking the first sip, I glanced back out to where the ballet outfit sat on the table. The anonymous package thing was weird, but it was also definitely hot. And though I loved looking at ballet dancers and often had fantasies about what it would be like to be one, I had never actually gotten up the courage to actually take a class or buy a pair of tights.

Taking another sip of my beer, I walked back out to the couch. I set down my beer and picked up the tunic. It looked and felt well made, different shades of gold and yellow thread in a brocade foliage design against white backing. It was short and tailored in at the waist, probably a bit snug on me, but on a slim dancer it would sit perfectly above the waist - emphasising their toned abdomen and, when facing away from the audience, their powerful glutes. I was getting a little turned on thinking about it. Whether I fit or not, I had to try it on.

I unbuttoned my shirt and slipped off my slacks, tossing them on the couch along with my socks. I hesitated a bit before taking off my underwear, the outfit hadn’t come with a dance belt, but I figured it’s be better to have a vpl than underwear lines. I was half hard already, even if I had a dance belt it probably would have still looked awkward. The soft fabric of the tights brushed against my bare legs as I picked them up off the table and held them up by the suspenders. At least they’d feel sexy to wear, even if I wasn’t quite fit enough to fill them out very well.

Sitting down on the couch I slid my leg into the grey tights, wiggling my toes into the seam at the bottom of the foot. They tingled a bit as I pulled them up over my calves and thighs, the soft tight fabric rubbing against the hair on my legs. As I pulled them up over my crotch they held my balls tight against me and pinned my now full erection against my belly. So much for a dance belt! Pulling the suspenders over my shoulders, I was greeted by the surprising sensation of the back seam of the tights snuggling up in between my ass cheeks. I didn’t have much of a butt to speak of, but somehow the tights still held tight to what little I had.

The tights ended just below my chest, and though I definitely didn’t have the ballet dancer build I still enjoyed seeing and feeling the uniform texture of grey fabric from my abdomen to my feet. I ran my hands along my legs, feeling the weave of the tights thrum with every touch, and my cock straining against the fabric.

I pulled my mind away from the hypnotic sexy feel of the tights, a little upset at myself that I hadn’t tried dressing up like this earlier. But I still had the tunic to put on. I wasn’t sure if I should have put something under it, but the lining was surprisingly soft and breathable against my skin. I stood up, slid my arms into the sleeves, and began hooking the fasteners that went up the front. The waist wasn’t as snug as I had feared and the structure of the garment helped straighten my posture, encouraging me to stand a bit taller than the hunch my desk job had trained me into.

Hooking the last fastener under my chin I looked down and realising I had come to stand with my heels together and my toes turned out, in what I knew to be “1st position.” And as I dropped my arms they fell nicely open and rounded at my sides, allowing my chest to open up and my shoulders to rotate backwards in perfect ballet posture. I chuckled a bit to myself, maybe I picked up more from watching so much ballet than I thought.

I tried to imitate the movements I had seen ballet dancers do, not crazy leaps or turns or anything, just pointing the toe out, to the side, to the back. I knew from somewhere they were called “tendus.” I let my arms move out to the side and above my head in time with my feet. I bent into a deep plie, letting my gaze follow my outstretched hand as it traveled out, to the side, overhead, and then started to repeat the same combination on the other side. I probably looked ridiculous trying to imitate the precise movements I had only watched, but it felt wonderful to move in the outfit.

As I continued to try new things, ronde de jambe, fouetté, attitude; I couldn’t remember where I picked up all these names, the costume felt like it fit me better and better. With each breath in my chest filled out the tunic a little better and my arms and shoulders felt stronger and more sure in their positions. Letting a breath out, my abdomen felt more compact and stronger in the long waist of the tights, my core offering steadier and steadier support and balance to my movement.

I moved from attitudes to a combination centred around arabesques, standing strong on one leg while reaching up and out with my upper body and back with the other leg. I took a couple of steps forward and went into the first arabesque, feeling strength and stability pouring into my standing leg, the grey tights stretched against my thighs, hips, and butt as I raised my other leg further up and behind me. My legs felt stronger and stronger as I continued around the room, my tights more snug and supportive as they nestled into the contours of my legs and sunk further between my ass cheeks. To finished the combination I moved to fifth position and took a small plie to lift up onto the balls of my feet, sous sous. Lifting my arms strong and graceful above my head I felt every muscle, from my calves to my core to my triceps working together to keep me balanced and poised. Satisfied, I descended into a plie and rose back up to finish the combination.

I stood there for a moment, relaxing back in first position and then blinked, blinked again. I looked back over at the table where my beer stood abandoned. Outside the window the sky was almost dark, how long had I been dancing, and how had I known how to do all that stuff? Feeling a little out of control I started to undo the top clasp of my tunic when I caught a look at myself in the hall mirror.

I did a double take, it couldn’t be me. I looked down at myself and then back at my reflection firm pecs, toned abs, powerful thighs clad in grey. It was me and fuck I was built. I turned around to see my now glorious ass, each cheek hugged beautifully by my tights, and noticed the cleft that had appeared on my toned calves - visible even though I stood flat footed.

I couldn’t help but touch, partially to make sure it was all real and partially because I was my own wet dream. I ran my hands along my firm legs and my slender waist and started to undo the tunic to check out my upper body. My laser focus while dancing had killed my boner but as I undid the tunic’s clasps I felt myself start to get hard again. It felt different though, still pleasurable but a different kind of pleasure. Breathing heavy with arousal I looked back to the mirror. I could see myself growing, but it wasn’t just my cock’s outline straining against the spandex, it looked and felt like my balls were growing too, my whole crotch swelling up against its spandex prison. The more they grew, the more intense the pleasure became, but it didn’t exactly feel like an erection.

I it felt almost like a balloon blowing up - a balloon in my crotch filling with anticipation and pleasure. Looking down, I noticed that as my genitals kept growing they began to lose definition, probably due to how stretched out the fabric was getting. As my bulge strained against my tights, my breathing quickened and my crotch continued to get smoother and rounder. My pelvic pleasure balloon steadily expanded until I felt my whole body was surely going to explode with ecstasy and then suddenly— it stopped. Still breathing heavily and still quite aroused I saw, between my newly muscled legs, the perfect smooth round ballet bulge, maybe a little on the big side, but otherwise the most beautiful tights-clad bulge - exactly like I was wearing a dance belt under my tights.

But I wasn’t wearing a dance belt. Was I? Trepidatiously I reached down to stroke the fabric and was greeted by the most pleasurable sensation. It didn’t feel at all like I was touching a padded dance belt, it felt like I was touching my own skin. I continued to run my hand over my bulge, a little moan escaping my lips as I stroked it’s contours. It felt like touching the sensitive head of my cock, my whole crotch felt as sensitive as the most nerve-laden part of my dick.

Equally aroused and terrified I slipped off the tunic and the straps of my tights. As I began to undress I noticed the wiry patch of hair on my chest had disappeared, and as I slid the tights further down to my waist, saw for the first time my beautiful hairless toned core. I ran my hand along my abdomen, wanting to feel every new inch of my body and also afraid to slide my grey tights any further down. But I couldn’t put it off forever. I slid my tights off the toned globes of my ass, over the deep v of my hips and then, my breath hitching as the tights fabric slid away from my sensitive crotch, revealing my perfectly smooth and hairless crotch.

My crotch looked exactly the same as before the tights came off - a round bulge just like you would see on mannequin. I couldn’t help but touch myself again, the intense pleasure felt slightly different without the silky tights over my sensitive skin. I closed my eyes as I touched myself, it was a completely different sensation than stroking my cock. Instead of moving in fits and spurts of arousal towards the edge of orgasm, this felt like a continually building sensation, like that balloon expanding again - a pleasure that continued to grow and grow with no sign of impending release.

After thoroughly exploring this new sensation I decided to move to the bathroom to get a better look at myself. I pulled my tights back up to my waist, the feeling of their fabric moving over my crotch almost pulling me into another session of dickless masturbation, and padded to the bathroom.

I flicked the light on and, before I could pull my tights back down for inspection, was distracted by my own face. Maybe it was the glow of arousal but I could swear I looked invigorated, more lively. My eyes looked twinklier and my teeth looked brighter, whiter even. As I looked at my reflection, I noticed the stress induced strands of silver in my hair and the dark circles under my eyes start to fade. Before my very eyes my short cropped hair grew out into a perfectly coiffed hairstyle and my jawline softened slightly - the stubble on my chin fading away. I couldn’t help but smile at myself, a smile that would be perfect for stage lights. Stepping back from the mirror and looking at myself, inexplicably standing in first position again, I realised I had been given the perfect body for ballet, a body I could have only dreamed of.

Finally seeing my whole self, I decided the mystery of how it all came to be mine could wait until tomorrow. Tonight I would just enjoy it. I flicked off the bathroom light and retired to my bedroom. The mostly full beer bottle and the work clothes from my earlier self lay abandoned by the couch as I lay in bed, touching and discovering the pleasures of this new body until I fell asleep.

[crystalgirl259]

The Flame and the Dragon Ch8

Chapter 8: The Proposal

Kai suddenly jumped out of his skin and stumbled into a heap on the floor. After untangling himself, Kai shook his head and found himself on the kitchen floor. His book lied open on the table and the chair he'd fallen asleep in tipped over when he stumbled. A loud knocking against the front door sent obnoxious vibrations through the entire house. He punched the floor in frustration. It took all his willpower not to destroy everything within two feet of him.

It wasn't the first time he'd fallen asleep reading a book, but it was the closest he'd ever come to seeing his dream lover or kissing him.

The obnoxious pounding on his front door only increased his already burning fury. The furious brunette stormed to his feet and stomped to the front door before unlocking it and throwing it open. He intended to take his rage on the idiot foolish enough to wake him from such a wonderful dream.

"WHAT!" He bellowed. Then his jaw hit the floor, out of shock more than anything else.

"Why hello darling," Morro flashed a seductive smirk, swaggering into the house. The duke's swagger wasn't in any way surprising; in fact, Morro visited the Smith's home frequently in his attempts to either seduce Kai or bribe Nya into a marriage contract. The fact that he'd invited himself in wasn't a surprise either. Being the Duke, he would claim it was his own right to be allowed in. Dismissing of him would be a direct insult and utter rudeness.

What shocked Kai to the core was that this time, however, and only this time, Morro had arrive draped in nothing but a wedding suit and was holding up a gorgeous, white-laced wedding dress to the brunette!

It was clearly tailored for Kai. Heck, it even had his full name stitched on the tag. The dress left the top of the shoulders uncovered, but didn't cover the sides and flows down into an elegant plunging neckline. It's a relaxed fit which makes the dress look comfortable, yet elegant and stylish. The arms had been left uncovered. A choice that added to the elegance and grace of the dress. The dress's waist was wide, but it was a comfortable fit. A small, elegant belt helped accentuate the waist without being too much.

Below the waist, the dress widened and has a bell style.

The dress reached well above the ankles and was slightly longer at the sides and back of the dress. The final touch was the white veil embroidered with flowers. At first, Kai was too shocked to say anything, but once his head cleared enough to think straight, he turned to the duke, glaring.

"Morro... what a pleasant surprise." He kept his voice civil solely out of respect for his relatives. The words rolled like poison off his tongue. Misinterpreting this as a sign of approval, Morro smiled a smile that curled at the corners.

"I'm sure." He brushed up against the brunette, leaning in close, causing Kai to take a step back. His green eyes flashed like a siren about to seduce its prey. It was a miracle of Kai's will that he hadn't already thrown the duke out of the house. He exhaled a breath when Morro pulled back and looked around his home. He sighed with disapproval. "Why do you live in this God-forsaken house, Kai? It's so... small and plain, and it's in the middle of the woods?" He complained.

Kai clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, his face was red with rage.

"I like my house; it's more than enough room for me, Nya, and Lloyd and we actually quite enjoy the walk to town and the woods; Nya finds it inspirational." He answered, doing his best to keep his voice civil.

"I wasn't asking if you tolerated it." Morro snapped, strolling towards him again. "I was saying..." He began until he caught his reflection in the hallway mirror. He stopped and smirked at the handsome god in the mirror, and ran his hand through the jet black locks, and straightened his bow tie. Kai scowled in disgust. Morro was as shallow as a puddle. Once the Duke was finished entertaining himself, he strolled back to Kai in that seductive swagger the brunette was beginning to hate more and more.

"I wasn't asking if you could tolerate it, darling, I simply meant that you deserve more." He smirked as he brushed against him causing him to take a long step backward. "Surely, you've always dreamed of something better than this?" He purred and Kai raised an eyebrow at this. He dreamed of getting out of this rat hole and of what he could learn, where he could go, and what he could see. Not what house he lived in. It took all of Kai's willpower not to roll his eyes.

Only Morro would care for something so frivolous.

"And what exactly do I deserve?" He demanded, expressionlessly, crossing the room to return to the kitchen. Morro's smile curled, taking a step towards Kai.

"You, my darling, deserve the best and only the best."

"And what is that." He asked, his neutral mask refused to fade.

"A grand, beautiful home filled to brim with treasures and endless elegant rooms." He swooned, brushing up against him again. Kai stepped back but Morro stepped forward. "A high title and position worthy of your status, the respect, and admiration of all the people around you, a house full of servants to wait on you hand and foot and, of course..." His fingers danced up Kai's chest, making him shiver in horror. Kai gripped the table, resisting the urge to grab the man in front of him by the neck and throw him out the window.

Respect for his family forced his temper under control.

"You need a spouse; someone who is gorgeous, educated, well-respected, highly thought of, someone who has known you your entire life; to ravish you each and every night and spoil you with whatever your heart desires." He grinned and Kai swore his skin turned green when the noirette said ravish. He couldn't even concentrate on the rest. By some miracle, he managed to hold his stomach and worm his way out of his grasp, unable to listen to Morro's ridiculous delusion of his wishes anymore.

Again his gift of words failed him, unable to find a world revolting enough to describe the spoiled and selfish dream world Morro was creating.

"And you know who that woman would be?" He asked as he cut him off when he escaped into the hallway.

"I can't even imagine." He retorted, not even trying to hide the sarcasm in his voice.

"Me, darling." The duke said gleefully, in a voice so giddy, it would make even the strongest of men, sick to their stomachs. "And all it takes is one little question…" He growled seductively as he pushed himself up against the brunette, as he skillfully backed up until he felt his back hit the front door.

"Morro, are you asking me what I think you're asking me?" Kai gulped as his amber eyes almost bulged out of his skull in a mixture of anger, shock, and disbelief. Morro's eyes turned dangerous with impatience. The noirette braced his arms on either side of Kai trapping him between him and the front door, and never in his life had Kai cursed his short height more than he did then.

"You aren't very bright are you darling? Let's be clear then; I am going to marry you!" He exclaimed and his eyes lowered seductively, as he moved his face closer, not noticing Kai's free hand wrap around the doorknob.

"I do have something I want to tell you," Kai smirked, feeling morally obligated to all humankind for the good deed he was about to do. Smirking in victory, Morro closed his eyes and leaned forward waiting for Kai's lips to meet his. "OVER MY DEAD, ROTTING BODY!" He suddenly shouted in burning rage. A sharp turn of the doorknob and dodge to the left by Kai and Morro was so overcome by surprise. He screamed when he stumbled through the door and straight into the mud that had been acuminating after last night's storm.

The once stunning white wedding dress he had been holding was now completely ruined by the sticky brown mud.

A band suddenly roared to life, until a series of collective gasps filled the air. Kai felt his jaw drop. The entire town stood in front of his house dressed in tuxes and ball gowns. A gazebo, decorated in white roses with a priest holding a bible standing beneath it, stood at the edge of the property. A red carpet covered in white petals led from the gazebo to a few feet from the mud where the duke had landed. All the eyes of the town folks were glued to either Morro or Kai.

A few people glared at the brunette with jealously, while some were in tears.

Even a large, delicious-looking wedding cake had been placed in the center of a silk cloth-covered table and surrounded by goblets filled with red wine.

"You arranged an entire wedding behind my back?" Kai growled shaking with fury. All control vanished in a single instant. Furious amber eyes bore into Morro like pools of fire. "Get. This. Through. Your skull. Morro." He spat his name as if it were poison. "I. Will. NEVER. EVER. MARRY. YOU! Now get off my property and FSM help you if you come back because I will not be responsible for my actions!" He roared. He then slammed the door shut, sending the entire town into shock.

Morro's screams of fury were the last things he heard before he bolted through the house and out the back.

He crashed into the side of the deck, panting uncontrollably. Shock, anger, disgust, and a dozen other emotions burned through his veins all at once, consuming him and making it impossible to think straight. He couldn't even speak coherently or even say the word. The very realization was too horrific for his mind to comprehend. He knew full well what Morro wanted, but the man lived and breathed formalities, and that dictated one had to ask permission of the parents first then ask the person to marry them.

Morro was not bold enough to defy the traditions that dictated his place in society, only because they gave him all the power he wanted.

He had dropped hints, made advances, and whatever else to persuade Kai to marry him. But he had never shown up at his house demanding he accepted his proposal. The fact he'd arrived with a wedding dress and had the entire town outside his front door as if expecting Kai to marry him that second was even worse! Kai couldn't stand being the idea of being the husband of that pompous asshole. He jumped over the railing of the deck and bolted across the yard, so fast, the fields vanished under him and the trees were a blur.

He didn't stop.

It wasn't until he found himself skidding in the dirt, barely stopping in front of the pond and falling back into a bed of daisies and dandelions in their cotton form, that he finally calmed himself down enough to think. Kai panted like he ran a marathon. The blood still accumulated in his face, but his color was still pale. Tears streaked his cheeks, purely from shock more than anything else. He didn't know what was wrong with people. He grabbed his head and screamed as loud as he could in frustration, but only because he knew this far from town no one could hear him.

He didn't feel better once he stopped.

He felt embarrassed. Still, he fell back against the field and calmed himself down, wishing more than ever he'd given in to Lloyd's demands. Once he's calmed down, he sat up, bunched his knees against his chest, and buried his face in his hands. He wanted out of this God-forsaken dirt farm not to be trapped in it and being married to the duke until death did they part. He knew no one in this stupid town would accept or see him as anything other than what they wanted him to be.

They only saw him as another part of their perfect unspoken plan.

No one cared about his wishes or what he wanted. They only cared about how he fitted into their provincial grand design. He knew that would be the case since the day he arrived, but it still. How could it not when everyone around you drills and hammers it into your skull that who you are and everything about you is wrong? Kai wiped the tears from his cheeks, refusing to cry or shed a single tear for the town he'd been forced to call home. He couldn't even begin to imagine how much Vincent was writhing in his grave for what Morro did to the place.

Or who much his parents were kicking themselves for leaving the twins and Lloyd to fend for themselves.

Kai promised himself that he was getting out of there. He didn't care how did it or when. He was getting out of that place and was never coming back. His hand soon discovered a stem and he turned to it. A dandelion stood there. Its cottony seeds were in full bloom, ready to be swept away by the wind. A childish game of making wishes and blowing on dandelions flashed in Kai's mind. He carefully picked the stem and twirled the cottony blossom in his hand.

It was a silly thing to do, really, but at that moment it seemed right.

"I wish for someone to understand me; someone who will love me for who I am and nothing less." He wished before taking a large intake of breath and releasing it over the seeds. The cottony seeds dispersed in an instant sending strands fluttering into the distances, carrying with them his deepest wish. A sudden high-pitched cry broke his serenity. Kai's eyes widened in recognition. Sitting up, his fears were confirmed when a brown blob charged straight for him.

It was their horse, Flame, still attached to the caravan.

Kai was on his feet in a second. He bolted to the stallion. Flame skid to a stop, clearly not wanting to hurt his master, the cavern rolled and jolted forward then back in response. Kai grabbed the reigns and stroked the stallion, speaking soothing words until the horse was calmed. Flame's intelligent eyes gazed into Kai's sadly. The brunette's heart plummeted when he noticed the horse was missing its rider and no one was inside or on the caravan.

Panic swept through him as he turned to the stallion, with terrified eyes.

"Flame, where are Nya and Lloyd? Did you lose them? Are they hurt?" He asked the horse desperately. Understanding the boy's fear, Flame neighed loudly before gesturing his head back towards the forest. Taking in the boy's bewildered look, the horse tried to move as far as the caravan would allow towards the path he'd come from as if telling him to follow. Understanding what the horse was saying, Kai's eyes widened. His hands grabbed the reigns tying Flame to the caravan and he viciously untied the knots and set it on the floor.

He bolted across the field, charged into the house, and grabbed his black winter coat off the hook, and threw it on over a long-sleeved red shirt and black pants.

He pulled on his riding boots and grabbed the scarlet scarf Maya made him before running back outside. The stallion was still waiting for him and gestured for Kai to climb on. Once the rider was settled, with a flick of the reigns the strong horse took off. Determination fired Kai's blood at the thought of the only family he had left lost in the woods, alone and without help. The townspeople made no effort to hide their fears when it came to the large, frightening forest.

They had all heard nothing but horror stories about that place.

Dr. Saunders had once told to the siblings that many of the townsfolk believed the stories of a cursed family who used to rule these very lands over a century ago before a wizard cursed them. Dr. Saunders told those stories in an effort to convince people that stories were meant to entertain and not believe. The superstitious residents believed them nonetheless. Even Ray warned the siblings never to venture too deep into the woods.

"Go Flame!" Kai commanded, waving his hands in the reigns. Detecting the urgency in his voice gave Flame the sudden burst of speed he needed until the horse found himself in a familiar forest clearing. Sunlight had dipped beneath the trees lighting the darkness of the forest with an orange and violet glow.

"Is this the place?" Kai asked the horse. Flame neighed in response. Heaving himself over Flame's side, Kai slid down from the saddle and look around. The horse sniffed the ground for any traces of Nya and Lloyd but the storm had washed away most of the trail. Anything to indicate the direction Kai's siblings went was covered by rivers of mud and a carpet of leaves from the storm. Kai swore, bending down to examine the ground. The rain had washed a mountain of mud over the area, burying any traces of footprints that might have been left behind.

His eyes meticulously scanned the forest floor, for any clues as to what happened, until he finally left the road and searched the bushes.

His hand suddenly found something smooth and tough almost like leather. With a flutter of hope, Kai gripped the cloth and ripped it free from the branches and mud on top of it, and shook it open. He recognized the material instantly. He growled as he clutched Lloyd's coat so hard his knuckles turned white.

"They were here, Flame, and if I know Nya, if they're lost in a storm the first thing going through her mind is finding shelter, especially if Lloyd's hurt." He told the stallion. The horse nodded in agreement, before sniffing the ground again. Slowly, he started to walk, following whatever was left of the scent. Kai followed, searching for any sign as to which direction his siblings must've gone. A loud neigh knocked Kai out of his thoughts. Flame grabbed his scarf with his teeth and pulled the brunette teen toward another path in the woods, before gesturing his head to the path.

It was different from the others.

Unlike the dirt paths caked with mud and overgrown with plants, this one was smoothed and made of fine cobblestones. Small plants and weeds were dotted it but the ground remained in place and that was when Kai saw them. Footprints made from boots, sinking thickly in the mud, symbolizing the owner was carrying some extra weight when the prints were made.

"Flame, you are brilliant!" He laughed as he hugged the brown horse's neck, before climbing back on. With a snap of the reigns, the horse took off, following the path and the prints deeper and deeper into the woods, until at last the woods came to an abrupt end. The path led to an enormous gate of rusted black iron standing so profoundly. A grey cloak lied past the gates on the side of the road where its owner must've collapsed. Kai dismounted gracefully, pulling on Flame's reigns until his fingers intertwined with the bars of the gate.

His family was there.

They had to be. His eyes followed the path all the way to the end. His amber eyes bulged in stunned awe.

"It can't be..." He whispered as shock and disbelief reeled through his entire being. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open in surprise. "That's... not possible."...

[sonipanda]

Bring on my 2nd pair of knee high shoes to review. I thought these looked great on the model and decided to give them a go myself to see what they’re truly like. I thought my previous pair were amazing but were a little too dark.

If you missed that review, then please click the link below to read the blog (opens in a new tab):

Bello Star Knee High Lace Diamante Court Shoes

The Spec

Colour: Red & Black

Size: UK 5

Materials: Upper: Textile | Lining and Sock: Other Material | Outer Sole: Other Material

Price & Website: No longer available

The Review

From The Website:

– Upper: Textile – Lining and Sock: Other Material – Outer Sole: Other Material – Heel: 4″ Cuffs: 13″ Sock Length: – Zip Fastening At Back – Standard Size – Standard Fit

  The Packaging: the packaging is identical to my last pair. These came in a good thick box, and folded neatly into their own mesh bags to protect the design.

These also came out looking pristine with no damages to the shoes.

  Getting Them On: well I was thankful that I had a zip at the back this time to help me get them on the legs. I still had to scrunch these down, but I had that extra room to move my foot around to get them into the shoes and then up the legs.

  On The Feet: well these are exactly the same fit as my last pair in terms of snugness. I felt these would have been an issue if my feet started to expand a little, otherwise it was a great fit. I had no issues with that at all.

As I mentioned above, these do come with a back zip which is visible (I wasn’t too keen on that though – the zip could have been all black instead of gold). However, this really does help when you want to get these on and take them off.

The heel height is slightly shorter than the black lace pair (only by 0.6 inches) but still comfortable to be in. I could have been in these all day without any problems of it hurting my feet or ankles.

Now let me get to the mesh part; I loved the way these looked on the model but I have to say these are a little bright and out there for me. I felt if the roses were a deeper red instead of bright red, it would have looked super classy but as they’re not, it throws me off a little.

From the foot to the thigh, you get this floral mesh print all over, and yep these are stitched through but still slightly raised so you can feel the detail.

These are just like my other heels; these hold up on their own with no silicone or belt support to them. I have to say these aren’t as great, as they did slip down a few times when I was on the move so I wasn’t overly impressed here that I had to keep pulling them up the legs every so often.

  My Thoughts?

I think the floral detail is beautiful but I wish it was deeper in colour rather than being so bright, so I could actually pair them up with outfits a lot easier. I don’t want to give off the wrong vibe wearing these with a skirt or dress, and I certainly don’t feel that comfortable doing so when I was trialling these out! Apart from that, these are a great pair!

Bello Star Embroidered Knee High Court Heels Bring on my 2nd pair of knee high shoes to review. I thought these looked great on the model and decided to give them a go myself to see what they're truly like.

[bibliotechnician]

The Exhibition

@musophobic-saviour

The burning in her lungs was what woke Volk, though only her body reacted at first, her mind foggy and still with one foot into the dreamtime. All her body was capable of in that moment was twitch and spasm before any proper panic hit, hardly registering where she was or what to do next. Like a lucid dreamer, she slowly gained control of her limbs in tiny increments, forcing some instinct or another to twitch fingers and toes consciously. Even so small a sense of control could help ease the creeping terror of drowning in air because gaining enough of it again could help fix the problem easier.

It was a harrowing few seconds that felt more like hours and even when she had regained some sort of control of her limbs, she could only feel the subconscious clawing at her chest and neck, knowing she hadn't willed it to and forcing at least one arm to do her bidding. It took a lot of will through the persisting brain fog to do so, but eventually, she managed to make it grab a new filter from the pouch at one hip. There was a few moments of fumbling with the fine motor skills to get the used filter off and replace it, after which she pulled better cleaner air into her lungs greedily. Only once she could breathe without worry did she allow herself to relax and finish coming to. 

Slowly, she was able to register through the cracked faceplate the vague shapes above her as shadows and light against the roof of a surface station of the Metro, grey and gloomy in the light of either morning or evening. It was hard to tell which it was without waiting, and it was hard to tell how long she had been there. She vaguely remembered it being night when she started out, however long that had been. 

Everything before right then was a blur. A dream she was grasping at to try and understand to no avail. Perhaps this was a dream that was supposed to be elusive. But that still didn't explain what she was doing, lying on the floor of a surface lobby, contemplating the meaning of time.

While she waited for her body to start responding to her head's commands, she thought back. She knew her name still, her age, her home station, her job. She could feel enough of her equipment to know it was still with her, nothing was stolen or missing. The only thing that was missing was a significant chunk of her time. 

And her lungs, apparently. 

Those were going to wheeze for a little while yet while they healed over. In order to give them a chance to do so, however, she would have to get where the air was cleaner, below ground.

It took everything in her power to roll over, awkwardly due to the larger rifle on her back. A few twists and struggles were given before she could finally push and pull herself over and up to her knees. Her vision swam, causing the earth to tilt and spin, a hand moving to properly anchor her in place while she readjusted to being upright. Her head hurt a little, though she had attributed that more or less to the light cascading through her shattered faceplate, washing the world in blinding white. That would have to be priority to replace when she got somewhere that had them in stock. Or when she returned to Polis, as she doubted whatever backwater station she had arrived at had any. It wasn't long after she became mobile again that the hovering fog in her head dissipated. Something she was grateful for, so she could consider the next steps forward.

She rose to her feet shakily after three attempts before she could support her own weight plus that of the bags, tools, and arsenal she carried with her, determined to bring everything back she had started with. Once she was fairly certain she could traverse the immediate area without incident, she looked around for stairs or escalators back into the underground. She found the latter near the back of the lobby, between broken kiosks of fluttering unusable paper and decayed acrylic glass and a set of creaking turnstiles. The tracks for each of them were mostly missing, leaving the groaning unknown exposed, the light glinting off the mechanics of the engines that moved them in their glory days. 

She looked around for a stairwell instead of wanting to challenge the path ahead in case she had a relapse, but found none. There was only going to be one way down, it seemed.

With a sigh and another change of the filter in her mask, she braced herself over the yawning abyss and began the descent, pushing the soles of her boots hard against the rusted metal bases of each railing on either side of the track. Carefully, she shimmied down, feeling if anything shifted or moved beneath her and stopping when it did to shift her offending foot's position to something more stable and moving again. Though it was slow-going, she made it to the bottom of the escalators with no trouble, even through the creaking and groaning in the structure of the stress and strain of taking unfamiliar weight after so long.

The lack of one of the big airtight doors that typically sealed a station from the surface worried her. It was entirely possible the station beyond was abandoned, or the entire line was abandoned. It was going to be difficult to tell where she was at this rate. 

As expected, the platform below was completely devoid of people or any sort of life, be it distant or recent past. Focusing on the emptiness of the station helped her assess that there was nothing hostile nearby, no noises or smells or hulking shapes in the dark just beyond her range of sight, which was a good thing. However, it also proved that there was virtually nothing living nearby, which was not a good thing.

Volk walked to the edge of the platform, just above the tracks, and looked left and listened and squinted into the dark. There was nothing there, she was sure, and she took a few steps closer toward the tunnel to listen closer. Quiet as a grave, as the saying went, and probably that was all it was, an ethereal path to the afterlife lit by the faint glow of radioactive mushroom clusters. She swiveled her head to look right and made her way toward the other exit. To her relief, she spotted a very faint glow further down the tunnel. The edges of a dim orange flickering against the pronounced ribbing of the walls. It was likely a fire and one for a cordon, which meant people were hopefully present.

"Better than hanging around here..." she muttered to herself, finding comfort in her own voice in the absence of anything else. Even though it was rough from disuse and inhaling irradiated air for however long above, it was still something familiar and helped settle the unease of knowing she would have to move through the metro for a time, perhaps all the way to Polis. She could only hope that the distance back wasn't too far.

She jumped off the platform onto the rails and turned her boots toward the source of light that was considerably more inviting, balancing her equipment and armament across her body again. The tunnel itself was fairly clean of bodies and clutter, only very few carcasses of monsters and mutants strewn over the ties and along the sides. There didn't appear to be any human corpses, though, which was a good sign to her. No human bodies was an indication the station ahead was both inhabited and likely open to accepting outsiders. It was a safe station, she hoped. Probably Hansa or close enough to The Ring to receive benefits from it.

Some ways down the path, she checked a small Geiger meter hanging from her waist and, after seeing the radiation levels having dropped enough to be safe, pulled her mask off and clipped it on her belt, pulling down the mask guard beneath with a puff of vapory breath on familiar chilled air. It was much easier to see without it now, even in the creeping dark, and she was happy to note the brain fog had all but disappeared. If she'd been suffering radiation poisoning, it would not have gone so quickly or stayed away, a good clue that she hadn't been without a filter for too long. Now if only she could remember how she'd ended up in the station above...

The fires from the cordon were starting to get brighter now, She would have to ponder the events that lead her to wake up in that station later. Seemingly friendly or not, it was best at any point of patrol to try and show you meant no harm. Play by their rules. 

A check of her papers was made, found tucked snug in a pocket on her outer vest. Her flashlight was pulled out, her approach slowing and steps growing heavier to alert anyone ahead with sound. That done, she drew her right arm across her torso to emblazon the embroidered Brahmin sigil on the upper arm of her heavy coat as well as for protection in case shots were fired.

Once she could see the actual fire licking the air, she flicked on the flashlight, rolling it in three slow circles before turning it off. The sign of friendly stalkers in the area, though she was unsure if anyone here understood that. 

[seracross]

Heart of Fire - Chapter Eleven: As Above, So Below

Summary: “A dragon without fire is nothing but a liability.” Nine years ago, Syra was thrust into a war: a hide-and-seek battle for control of five powerful crystals, hidden by a secret organization 200 years prior. Taking human-form, Syra searches the dragon-hating city of Altaira for clues on their location. But when her secret is revealed, fickle hearts are quick to change. And when an old enemy raises his scaly head, who will be there to turn to? Her estranged siblings? An ex-fiancé? Or a temperamental pixie the size of a duckling? In a race against her father’s murderer, Syra must traverse the five kingdoms to halt his efforts to rebuild a powerful relic that should never have been created. Are the bonds of love and family strong enough to survive the horrors of secrets and betrayal? And how do you fight an elder dragon bent on revenge when you’re a wyrmling who can’t even breathe fire?

Genre: Fantasy, Adventure, Romance, Drama

Rating: PG-17 (Strong Language & Violence)

Read All | Read Next

Morning sunlight beamed through the ice sheet, waking the company.

“How late is it?” asked Petra, rising.

“Not awful late, I assume,” said Cassius, peering through the ice, “the sun’s barely up.”

Aidan stood and stretched, nearly hitting his head on the low ceiling, “Let’s get going, then. We don’t need to get caught in another one of those storms.”

He looked over to Syra, who was the last to rouse. “After you,” he said, motioning to the ice sheet.

She rose on stiff muscles and squeezed through them to the entrance, pressing her hands against to the ice. Again she channeled mana, but this time it was hot and searing. The ice steamed and thinned, leaking trickles of water down its face. She had managed to melt a hole the size of her head before she stopped for breath.

“What’s wrong?” asked Cassius, “Are you still drained, even after the Fae pool?”

She shook her head and laughed at herself, “No. I’m just…not that good at fire magic.”

“Why am I not surprised?” asked Petra.

“I don’t see you helping,” Syra said.

“Then move,” Petra said, pushing Syra away from the ice.

Petra stood still a moment, analyzing the wall. It was thin, but still sturdy, except around the hole Syra had made.

“You get that side,” she said, looking to Cassius and taking her scabbard from her belt.

Cassius did the same and they aimed the hilts at the thinner portion.

“Now!” Petra commanded and they struck the ice, shattering its center enough for them to kick away a hole large enough to crawl through.

“You welcome,” Petra said to Syra as she exited the cave.

From outside the cave, the landscape now resembled the head of a balding man with bad dandruff, the green of new leaves hid by a thin white covering. The sun was above horizon and the clouds had moved on to the foothills, but the chill still lingered.

“I think the road was this way,” said Aidan, taking the lead away from the cave.

Around one bend and up another, the walls of the Talian city peeked from over the next turn.

“Almost there,” said Aidan, calling the others to pick up the pace. As he followed the road around a curve, he heard a pat-pat of paws accompanied by panting, and was soon chest to snout with a rather large, gray canine. One look at its eyes and Aidan was quick to jump back and draw his sword.

“Get back!” he yelled to the others, halting them, “It found us again!”

“Well, of course it did!” A man’s voice came from around the corner followed by a high whistle. The canine instantly sat, its ears perked and tail swishing. There was the scuffle of footsteps and soon two Talian men appeared from where the creature had come. “She’s a langora, after all.”

“Langora?” Syra asked, staring at the animal before her that was just as much lean muscle as it was fluff.

“You might know them better by their common name, the cloud fox, or direfox if you’re a nord,” the man said, patting it on the head, “She’s my partner.”

“The weather up here can be quite temperamental, but the langora are experts at hunting in the worst of it,” said the second man, “so we’ve trained them to find lost travelers and alert us when they need rescuing.”

“Alright,” said Aidan, mulling it over, “so if she’s your watch dog, who are you?”

“She’s not a dog,” replied the first man, “and we’re scouts from Mirna sent to fetch you. I’m Kaleem, this is Shaleu. I would have thought you’d be grateful.”

“We are!” said Cassius, tapping Aidan’s arm for him to sheath his sword, “Just a bit…cautious, is all.”

Kaleem nodded, “I can understand that.” He turned and flashed the Mirnan crest that adorned his blue cape, “And that’s why we’re here, to escort you.”

“Escort? I thought you said you were rescuing us,” Petra said.

“Then perhaps it is both. I was told your company was to meet with King Tahlu?”

“We are,” said Petra, still suspicious.

“Then it will be our pleasure to take you to him, as he is expecting you.”

At this, the scouts turned and headed back up the mountain road, glancing back every once in a while to make sure everyone was keeping up.

The towering gates of Mirna opened with a wave of the Kaleem's hand.

"Names?" asked a sentry in the watchtower with log in hand.

"There here to see King Tahlu," Kaleem said, showing him Tahlu's golden seal, "I'll vouch for them."

"Still need their names for documentation."

Kaleem shrugged, "Alright, if we must. Go on," he said, stepping aside. 

"Aidan Austair," said Aidan, stepping forward.

The sentry hesitated mid-stroke and stared up at him, "As in Altaira's prince?"

"Aye," Aidan said, pulling out the collar of his undershirt to show him the embroidered crest.

The sentry looked over to the Kaleem with a fretful gaze, but he simply gave a nod.

"I told you, they're here to see Tahlu. Now could we continue so we don't keep him waiting?"

"Yes, of course," he said and turned his attention to the others.

"Syra," she said, watching him scribble with his quill.

"And surname?"

She paused. People had always assumed her to be a throwaway, so she never had a reason to take one.

"Syra?" prodded Aidan, snapping her back to reality.

"Huh? Oh, right. It's Feras," she said, throwing out Valen's surname. He had practically adopted her, anyway. "And these are my siblings: Petra and Cassius."

The sentry finished logging and allowed them through with a salute, "I hope Tahlu finds you well."

Kaleem led them from the watchtower into the wide, brick-laid streets that spider-webbed up and down the mountainside.

"Oh, my," Cassius said at the sight in front of them, causing Kaleem to laugh.

"There's an overlook right over there if you'd like a better peek," he said and pointed to a platform jutting from the side of the terrace.

There was nothing modest about Mirna, Syra came to find as they peered over the city. Even the platform railing was of ornate design. Wide, arching terraces covered the mountainside in buildings, ponds, and gardens. There was even an aqueduct that curved back and forth between the buildings. The building themselves were spacious and of multiple stories, all trimmed with brick, tile, and ironwork in hues of cream and jewel tones. Up and down the slope, large arched windows glinted in the light, making the mountainside sparkle like ripples on water. One thing made Syra ponder, though.

"There's no snow," she said, looking up at Kaleem with questioning brows. "How is that possible?"

He smiled and pointed up at the tip top of the watchtower, where two sentries manned a metal spire with a deep green crystal incased inside.

"When foul weather comes—which it often does—those crystals," he pointed in turn to the line of towers circling Mirna's perimeter, "create a barrier above the city. Most of the time it just melts snow for our aqueduct, but it's been known to hold up against dragonfire."

The siblings gawked in surprise.

"I know, I know, crazy right? You all are too young to remember, but the Tal also had their troubles with dragons in the past."

"Yet you're now allies?" asked Aidan, the bitterness in his voice damping Syra's mood.

"We once fought over territory. But after Dorrak we agreed to keep our borders, with the dragons expanding north instead of south. Neither one of us wanted to see that much death again. Heh, they've turned out to be pretty quiet neighbors, actually. Just a bunch of hermits keeping to their own."

"Wish Altaira was that lucky," Aidan said with a grimace.

Kaleem patted him on the back but said nothing.

"It is beautiful, though. Your city," Aidan said, changing the subject.

"Well, don't stop here!" Kaleem laughed, "We're still at the gate. Tahlu's manor is this way."

Down the streets and up ramps and stairs they went, earning curious looks from the locals in their flowy, glittering garbs. We must look so dingy to them, Syra thought, a tad envious of their elegant drapings and headdresses. Though, she laughed at Petra who fought to not stare at all of their shiny adornments.

"And here we are!" said Kaleem when they stopped at gated fence. He flashed his seal and the two guards allowed them inside.

To Syra's surprise, the King's manor was quaint compared to Rogan's castle. Though it had its own terrace and garden, the building itself was of humble size with only three stories, and no more fineries than any other Talian manor.

"Why is it so small?" Petra asked.

"Petra!" Cassius hushed her, "Don't be rude."

A full laugh came from around the side of the manor, "Because I like it better that way."

A handsome Tal of lithe build, high cheekbones and dark eyes approached them with a warm grin. His fair locks were tied at the shoulder, and his blue garb was of similar fashion to Syra’s cloak. Kaleem bowed and Syra assumed this was the Tahlu he kept speaking of.

"The King's quarters used to be down there," he said, pointing to a large, comely building littered with towers and windows, "but we decided to downsize a bit, and moved it here. We had too few people for so many rooms, anyway."

"What is it now?" Aidan asked. To leave a building of that size empty would be a horrid waste of space.

"A library," he said with pride, "Or an academy, as you humans call it."

"It's even bigger than ours," said Syra, starstruck.

Tahlu laughed and nodded, "Yes, I can't deny we take pride in our scholars. Our watchtowers were built by them, after all. Saved us from drought, blizzards—"

"Dragonfire," Kaleem added.

"That, too, once upon a time. This city owed—and continues to owe—them a debt."

"So, why did you summon us here?" Aidan cut to chase.

"Oh, right! Yes, you've just arrived from Kor Lahru, haven't you? I beg your pardon. I am King Tahlu, as I'm sure Kaleem here has already mentioned. Kaleem," he said, turning to him, "go ahead and take the day off, you've done well."

"Thank you, your highness," Kaleem said with a quick bow before leaving.

"Well, come on in, then," Tahlu said, heading for the front door, "Your rooms are ready and the dark comes quickly, even at this altitude."

"Where's the shard?" Aidan asked, unmoving and causing Tahlu to stop mid-step.

"You can't just ask him that!" Syra whispered to Aidan.

"Of course I can. He has a ring, he should know where it is." Aidan pointed to the silver band on Tahlu's finger.

"But—"

"It's alright," said Tahlu, "That is why you're here in the first place."

"With all due respect, sir," said Aidan, "we don't need to rest. We need that shard. There are four more left and we don't even know if Marrak has found them already."

"He hasn't," said Tahlu. "I would have heard about it, otherwise."

"Well, that's good to know," said Petra, "I'd hate to be wasting my time."

"The shard is safe, currently," Tahlu said, turning to Aidan and the others, "And I will take you there today, if you wish. But at least sit for a meal. As Mirna's representative, I cannot have you thinking us inhospitable."

"We have no reason to," Syra said, joining Tahlu on the stair, "Plus, my siblings and I never turn down food."

Tahlu chuckled with a light sigh, "I am glad to hear you say that. Otherwise, I'd have wasted my preparations."

The party followed Tahlu into the manor—which was still quite lavish despite its exterior—and was quickly met by a Tal of dark brow and stern face. His neatly cut hair barely brushed his ears and his uniform spared no wrinkle.

"Maybe I take your bags?" he asked, in a tone that was polite, but forced.

"Yes, thank you," Syra said, handing him her pack to be hung in the foyer.

"No thanks," said Petra.

"Same," said Aidan, both stepping into the dining area.

"Don't mind them," Cassius said, "They're not always this callous."

"Duly noted," said the Tal, hanging up Cassius' belongings next to Syra's.

“This here, is Wyn,” said Tahlu, patting the Tal on the shoulder, “He’s my Second, and though he seems cold, he’s really quite the caretaker.”

“Pleasure,” said Cassius before joining Petra and Aidan at the long table.

"And you must be Syra," he said, as she handed over her cloak to be hung, as well.

"Yes," she said, "but, how did you know? Do I smell?!" She took a few sniffs about herself in a fret.

"No, no!" Talhu said, laughing. "Your cloak," he said, taking the cloth in one gentle hand, "it was my father's."

"Oh. I-I'm sorry, I didn't know. Valen gave it me and—"

"It's quite alright. I'm the one who gave it to him."

Tahlu motioned for her to join him with the others at the table as their meal was being laid out.

"When the Kesh Raza was discussing the possibility of recruiting you and your siblings, Valen said you would need something to identify yourself when you came. Something I and the other Tal would recognize, but others would not. My father was very fond of that cloak, up until his passing, so I knew right away what to use."

"Well, thank you," Syra said, trying to not speak with her mouth full. "It certainly helped when we were stuck in that storm. It's quite warm."

"As it should be!" Tahlu said over his glass, "Did you know, the silk from the Montane Silk Worm is the only fiber to expand when cold?"

"I did not!" Syra exclaimed, leaning over her plate, curious to hear more.

"Oh, here she goes again," Petra complained.

Talk of alpine worms, langora, and other creatures of the mountain dominated the conversation, and when the meal had taken longer than he wanted, Aidan cleared his throat to signal its ending.

“We should get going now, if you don’t mind,” he said, standing.

“Yes, of course,” said Tahlu. “If you could wait just outside, I’ll have my carriage brought around.”

Wyn returned their belongings as they left, but all the while his eyes remained on Syra and her earring.

“Your bag, miss,” he said, handing it over.

“Thank you, Wyn,” she said, slinging it over a shoulder.

“Thank you for coming.”

There was a sincerity in his eyes that grabbed at her, and she dipped a quick curtsy, “Certainly. It’s not like there was much of a choice.”

“There’s always a choice, milady,” he said, holding the door for her.

“So I’ve been told.”

“Don’t mind Wyn,” Tahlu said as he helped Syra into the carriage, “He has a thing for mages.”

Petra laughed and Aidan looked out the window.

“Oh. Well, that’s very flattering,” Syra said, a shade red.

Tahlu secured the door and hopped up top with Wyn, “To Omei.”

The carriage stopped near the base of the mountain where large stone doors were carved into its side. Above them, Talian script arched, chiseled into the stone. Syra tried to decipher it, but was too unfamiliar with the language.

“Separate, but never silenced. Absent, but never forgotten,” Tahlu recited the words worn from the stone, but not from his mind.

“What is it?” asked Syra.

“This, is Omei,” he said, raising a hand for the door to be opened, “The underground city.”

Past the heavy doors, light spilled down into the cavern that tunneled hundreds of feet into the mountain. Down and down the staircase wound, around pools and stalagmites, glowing crystals illuminating its steps worn from decades of passing feet. The bottom was a mere speck at the back of the cavern, and all four party members were left speechless. A rush of wind that smelled of smoke and wet stone nearly tipped Syra over the stairs, and Tahlu steadied her with a laugh.

“Careful,” he said, “it’s a long way down.”

“I thought Mirna was the only Talian city,” said Cassius, looking to Tahlu with big eyes.

“It was, for a long time,” Tahlu began his descent down into the hole and waved them to join him, “This was originally the entrance to our mines, but was, eventually, converted to a city.”

The siblings, being accustomed to caves, followed close behind Tahlu. But, Aidan, a creature of open fields and sky, balked at the rocky mouth gaping before him. Wyn had to pat him hard on the back to force him forward.

“Too many people?” asked Aidan, catching up to them.

“Too many sick people,” Tahlu said.

“I didn’t know Tal could get sick.”

“No race is immune to disease. We only manage to stave it off because of all the hard work our scholars do,” Tahlu couldn’t help but boast, “But the illness we suffered, this Lavi Disease, was not from this land, nor was it in any way natural.”

His face darkened and he looked behind him to see all eyes waiting.

“It was that shard you seek, that brought about the plague. We should have known better than to let an alchemist mess with it—Caelus, was his name. But he promised great results, a chance to ‘better the Talian race by stealing from the best’. Alchemical fusion, he called it.”

“The process required tremendous energy, so what better use for a powerful crystal?” He laughed at himself, “But the energy from the crystal was too strong. The potion exploded and sent gas everywhere. Caelus was the first to be infected and the first casualty.”

“Most casualties died in the first few months. Some from fever, others from suffocation or heart failure. Those that survived infection ended up without ears or noses. A terrible sight it was, watching their flesh being eaten away day by day. Death would have been easier. The sickness spread to half of our city, and we were left with no other choice but to separate the infected.”

“So, you left them to die?” Petra asked, her voice echoing off the walls.

“No! No, of course not,” said Tahlu, calming himself. “The infection had no bias. It took farmers, merchants, and officials…even my little brother was infected. No, we gave them the space and supplies, and they built the city for themselves. That’s why Lanis leads Omei, while I lead Mirna. So that everything we have in the Upper Branch, they have in the Lower.”

“Except sunlight,” said Aidan as they reached the bottom level.

“Yes,” Tahlu said, “an unfortunate effect of infection is that exposure to direct sunlight worsens their illness, many times burning them. Another reason we chose the mines for their relocation.”

“So if all the people down here are infected, are we even safe being here?” Syra asked.

“Oh yes,” said Tahlu, giving the guard permission to open a second pair of doors, “Time has seemed to lessen the spread of the illness, though it is still spread from mother to offspring—an issue we are still trying to fix, even after a hundred years.”

When the doors to Omei opened, they were greeted by two Tal that made Syra’s breath catch in her throat.

“This is Lanis and Leimia,” Tahlu said, introducing them, “They will be your escorts from here onward.”

Lanis had the same face as his brother, minus the nose. His head was topped with short, white, down-like feathers instead of hair, and his ears that would have normally been long and pointed were gnarled to half their length, as if gnawed off by some animal.

Leimia seemed to have gotten off easy, by comparison. The child’s ears were still whole, but bent and folded over like a pup, and donned a lavender stud.  A full head of tawny hair draped past the edges of her cape and matched the jaw feathers and three barred plumes that sprung from her hairline. But most noticeable, were the puffs of feathers extending inches off her shoulders.

It took all of the party’s willpower to hide their shock, but both Tal knew their expression too well.

“It’s alright,” Lanis said, “I know it can be quite jarring to first time you see it.” He offered a scale-covered hand in welcome, and Syra found it hard not to stare at the two slits where his nose should have been.

“What happened?” Syra asked, shaking his and Leimia’s hands, “Tahlu told us about the infection, but…I didn’t expect this.”

Lanis had to laugh, “No one ever does.”

He gave his brother a tight hug before Tahlu turned to leave back up the stairway.

“Wait!” Syra called to him, “You should have this back.” She took off her cloak and held it out to Tahlu.

Tahlu’s hand hovered above the cloak for just a moment before he pushed it back to Syra.

“I’ve grieved long enough,” he said with a smile, “and it would only be a reminder. Plus, it would be of more use to you.” He patted her lightly on the head, “Now go. Don’t keep my brother waiting.”

Tahlu began his climb and Syra returned to the doorway to follow after Lanis.

“Come,” Lanis said as the doors closed behind them, “we will explain everything on the way.”

“On the way, where?” Petra asked, intimidated by the large, vining plants that grew along the cavern walls and lit the rooms with a cool, green glow.

“To the shard, of course,” said Leimia in a soft, pleasant voice, “Is that not why you’re here?”

“It is,” Aidan said, also a bit shaken by his new surroundings, “And we’re thankful for all your help.”

“As are we,” Lanis said, “We will all benefit from those stones being destroyed. As well as that dragon. No offense meant,” he said, looking to the siblings.

“Couldn’t agree more,” Petra said.

Lanis led them through tunnels and open rooms filled with luminescent plants and glittering stones. There were pools and waterfalls and vines that grew like trees. Even the ceiling moved with the fluttering of shimmering insects.

“What are those?” Petra asked, breaking their silence and pointing to the feathers on Leimia’s shoulder, “Those can’t be wings. Way too small.”

“Can you stop with the rudeness?” Cassius snapped at her. “You’re setting a bad example.”

“Like you’re not curious?”

“You’re right,” Leimia said with a twinge of sadness, “they are too small.” She wiggled her tiny chick-like wings in short, meager flaps, “But, at least they’re feathered.”

“At least?”

Petra was cut off by bright white light as they turned a corner into Omei’s main chamber, and Syra shielded her eyes until they adjusted.

Below their ledge, an array of buildings, streets, and gardens stretched out until the wall curved up into the geode-like the ceiling. Though the buildings weren’t as tall as their Mirnan counterparts, Omei was twice as wide. And above all of them, in the center of the ceiling surrounded by crystals, were roots. Massive, thick roots that hung and wound across and down the cavern walls, emitting white light like a tiny sun.

Syra’s eyes bulged, “Is that?!”

“Mother Tree?” Lanis finished, “Yes. You can mine a lot in a hundred years, and ours led us right under Kor Lahru. Not only is the light not harmful, but the mana spring above us flows down here, too. It’s probably a major reason why we’re not getting any worse.”

Down the ledge and into the streets Lanis led them, all the while passing Lower Tal with fur, feather, scales, and mixtures of all three. Some had noses, others didn’t. Some had ears, others had holes surrounded by scarring.

“Infection affects everyone differently,” said Lanis, noticing the party’s wandering eyes, “The tilians grew scales or hide, and the mamans have an array of fur and horns. I even know a few with Fae-like qualities who can go out in sunlight. Then there are some, like me and Leimia who are avians.

“Avians?” asked Syra.

“Feathers,” said Leimia, pointing at her plumes.

“Most of us just grow them instead of hair, but others…” he glanced down at little Leimia and her puffs.

“Those born here—the lowborn—get it the worst. They’re deformed from day one and it only grows worse with age. You rarely see extra limbs like this on us highborn. Even if they’re fully fledged like Leimia’s, they’re useless and only make tailoring more tedious.”

“It’s not that bad,” said Leimia, “I’m still pretty lucky. Many lowborn avians don’t even make the feathering stage, so they’re stuck with bare skin or have them cut off.”

Cassius shivered at the thought of having his own wings sawed off, “I doubt I could ever go through with that. No matter how ugly they might be.”

Lanis went on describing the building of the city and how it was run while leading them over bridges and around a small lake to the lower portion of the city.

“You will be staying in our academy dorms, near the alchemy labs,” said Lanis. He pointed to a long, tall building that was built right into the cave wall and sat overlooking them from its perch a few terraces up. “We just had some rooms open up, so your timing is perfect. But, before that, I have someone you should meet.”

They arrived at a lavish tavern-like building where drumming music could be heard from the street. Drapes of satin and velvet cloaked the tall windows and a guard stood posted at the door. Written in metalwork above the doorway, the Talian words for “Playhouse” greeted them.

“This way, please,” said Lanis, entering.

Inside, smoke and the scent of stringent drinks met them. Scantily clad men and women clung and hung about their patrons, while others danced and swayed from ropes and platforms above the crowds. Most were in a stupor, but all turned their eyes and watched as they descended into the pit.

Lanis brought them to a half-point maman enjoying the company of his feathered doll in heels. He plucked a feather from his companion and dropped it into the mortar next to him. Blood beaded up on her skin, but he pressed  a finger to it and, with a spark, it healed right up.

“This is what I pay you for, Ristau?” Lanis asked, his judging eyes moving from the companion to mortar and pestle in his hands.

“With all respect, Lanis, what I do with my money in my free time is my business.”

The Tal’s ragged ears poked out from the black hair that was slicked back into a loose side braid, and a pair of stud horns arched from his forehead. He continued to crush the feather into dust with his pestle.

“It’s nearly evening.”

Ristau’s grinding stopped, “Ah…alright.”

He patted his companion off his lap and slipped a silver coin into her brazier, “Tomorrow, then.” He sniffed and stuffed the pestle and mortar into his pocket. 

“I assume the use of Down also falls into ‘none of my business’? Despite the obvious legal issues.”

“It helps me think.”

“Of course, it does.” Lanis handed him handkerchief, “As necessary as your mind is, I would appreciate you setting a better example for our guests.”

Ristau looked the company over and groaned, “There you go, again! Protecting your image.”

“Omei’s image.”

“What’s to protect?” He stood with slight wobble, arms wide, “Welcome to Omei, young travelers!”

“Stop.”

“Where dirt and depravity mirror the faces of its citizens!”

“Ristau!”

“What?!”

“We need their help, and you’re here trying to scare them away.”

“Help? How the hell would they—”

“King Lanis,” a lilting voice cut through Ristau’s garbling as they were joined by a comely lady Tal who knew how to dress for the imagination, “Since when do you ever visit me in my palace?”

“Since I hired this fellow to help me. Think I made a mistake?”

The full-point fae smirked and scrunched her brow, the crystallight shimmering on her vela and fins that graced her jaw.

“Don’t answer that, Isa. He might actually take you seriously,” said Ristau.

“And why wouldn’t he?” She tucked an ebony strand behind her right ear, the two red hoops shining proudly, “As matron of this establishment, it’s my job to know my customers better than anyone.”

“So,” she turned to Lanis and traced his jawline with a fingertip, “what brings you down to the pit?” She eyed Syra’s group with mischievous intrigue, “Getting a bit adventurous are you? Four is quite bold.”

“Bold, but not impossible,” said Isa’s attendant, a male folded-point fae doning a blue hoop on his right earlobe. He brushed up against Cassius and the fly-like wings on his wrists fluttered in excitement.

Cassius froze, turning red, and Syra bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“They’re with me,” Lanis said, leering at him.

“Well, someone’s selfish,” he said and huffed away to Isa’s side.

“Easy, Laisaf,” she said, patting his bare chest, “Their business is elsewhere.”

“But if you do get an inkling,” Isa said to the party before leaving, “the first round is on the house.”

“So, are you coming back with us or not?” Lanis asked of Ristau.

“Back where, again?” Ristau slouched over the table.

“The lab,” Lanis hissed and pointed to Syra’s earring. “Valen sent her.”

“Ah.” Ristau snapped his mouth shut and regained his composure, “Very well, then.”

A wave of comfort washed over Syra as they followed Ristau through the corridors of Omei's academy. It smelled of herbs and dusty books, and warm light poured through the windows as the roots and crystals overhead dimmed with the setting sun. Despite the flow of mana around them, Syra felt fatigue tug at her limbs and feet and eyed the pillowed couches as they passed.

Waiting outside an alchemy den, was a lady Tal of flowing hair and satin gown that clung to her mature frame in all the right places. She thumped an impatient finger against the book she was holding.

"I was beginning to wonder if I had to fetch you myself," she said to Ristau, leading them inside the lab of bottles, books, and bubbling flasks.

"I do apologize," said Lanis, ushering the party to their seats around a table. "You know how difficult he can be when he's...off duty."

Ristau ignored their scowls and fell into his seat while the lady arranged pages and scrolls on the table.

"Unfortunately," she said, apprehending his mortar he had set beside him. He snatched at thin air and she plopped it down at her seat far from reach. "After we're finished."

"Welcome to my lab," she said once everyone was seated.

"Your lab?" Ristau hissed, "I'm the one who brought you here."

"It would be your lab, if you spent more time in it."

She turned her attention Syra and her crew, "It's a tad cluttered, but I hope you find it suitable."

"Suitable for what?" Petra asked.

"This is Sulaer," Lanis said after a brief pause, "She's one of Mirna's archmages." It was then that Syra noticed the two gold hoops atop her ears. "And has been graciously working down here to find a cure for the infection."

"That's great, but what does that have to do with the shard?" Aidan asked.

Sulaer's amber eyes stared him down in silence.

"Do you know what started the infection? That is was not simple caught, but made?" She asked.

"Tahlu said an alchemist made it, on accident."

"And?"

"And he used a shard to power the spell?" Her unblinking gaze was making him nervous.

"So to undo this spell, it would make sense to?"

Aidan's mouth was left hanging. He knew about people and politics, not spells.

"Work backwards," said Syra, gaining Sulaer's attention. "To unravel a knot you have to work backwards. Spells are the same way. But that requires all conditions to be the same as they were during casting."

"And that means, what?" asked Aidan.

Syra sighed and her shoulders drooped, "That they need the shard to power a counter-spell."

Aidan leered over at Lanis, "I thought you brought us here to collect the shards. To destroy them."

"We did."

"Then why are you still using it? It was using it that killed your people in the first place."

"I am well aware of that," Lanis leered back, the feathers at his crown beginning to stand. "And we have to live that mistake every day. But many harmful things can be used for good if treated correctly."

"You're taking an awfully big risk, Lanis."

"And you would have me do what, exactly? Sit on my ass and do nothing? Just watch as my people starve and their children are born disfigured, if they even survive at all? We can't even feel sunlight without blistering. If it weren't for the few fae and my nighthands, we'd have starved decades ago."

He took a few breaths to calm himself, then leaned over to Aidan, "You're a prince. So tell me, what would you have done in my situation?"

Aidan glanced over to Syra and the twins, but Lanis grabbed him by the chin and forced his face forward.

"I didn't ask them, I asked you. As Altaira's next king, what would you do?"

Aidan fought the urge to punch him in the face. But Lanis' eyes were clear and begged for another option. Though, Aidan knew there was none.

"What do you need us to do?"