Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Ashley strode down smog stained alleyways, navigating through the drunken crowds of factory workers, pretending not to hear the catcalls aimed her way. The pharmacy was almost shut when she arrived. The door opened with a small chime, drawing the attendant’s attention. Ashley approached the shop counter, the attended lazily looked up to her from behind a set of bronze bars.

Ashley slipped a small note through the bars, “I’m here to collect a prescription.”
The man behind the counter glanced down at the paper, then back up to Ashley, glaring at her through his brows. Without a word he sat up, floorboards creaking as he reluctantly lumbered to the back of the shop. Upon his return he had with him a form and a vial of deep blue liquid.
“Twenty marks.” The man said, bored of his own words.
“Twenty, it was fifteen last month?”
“Twenty.” Repeated the man.
“Fine, yeah, fine.” Sighed Ashley, sliding the coin beneath the opening in the bars. After the coins had been carefully counted the man fished a blunted pencil out of a pot and began to fill the form.
“Just need to confirm your name.”
“Ashley Morgan.” There was a pause.
“That’s not what it says on your prescription. You’d need the signature of the person you're collecting on behalf of.”
“No this, this is for me.” Ashley responded nervously, she had gone through this song and dance before.
“Well, your name then.”
“Ashley Morgan.” She repeated with shaky conviction.
“Your real name.” He clarified, with only the barest effort in hiding his malice. Was she really going to give him what he wanted, to humiliate herself in front of this stranger? She wanted to be furious, but she only felt fear. She glanced at the twenty marks, already counted and behind the countertop bars.
“Daniel.” She said, a near whisper.
“Full name…”
“Daniel Morgan.”
“Good boy.” Said the man with a wide slimy grin, sliding her medicine beneath the bars. Ashley snatched it. She felt sick, having to debase herself like that. But dignity was something people like her couldn’t afford.

She stumbled back out into the streets, letting herself get lost in the bustle of the crowds, eventually being spat out at the edge of her Spire. She collapsed onto an old memorial bench, carefully avoiding sitting on the patch of pigeon shit. She looked out across the seven spires of her home. Twisting horns of steel and brick that rose from the sea of factory smoke below and into the polluted sky above. Each was a city in their own right, all connected by a maze of cablecars and bus-blimps. The sun had already set on the lower levels and soon it would set here too. It wouldn’t be safe after nightfall, but she had enough time to take a moment to breathe. She watched all the tiny gas-lights flicker on as the shadows climbed her neighboring spires, she imagined they looked similar to a clear night sky. She wondered about that man, and how many of those little lights in the distance would hate her just like he did, if only they knew who -what- she was; She wondered how many of those little lights were like her.

The night grew closer, it was time to go. With a sigh she stood. She felt a little better perhaps, she couldn’t quite tell. She was a little calmer at the very least. With the vial in her bag she made her way home to the barracks.

Golden light slipped through her blinds, casting buttery yellow stripes across the room. Ashley reluctantly tossed the blankets off herself and got up. Bleary eyed she looked at her reflection. A tangled mess of straw-blonde hair fell down past her shoulders. Her sea-green eyes looked sunken and tired and an old scar sat crookedly across her nose.

She had no time for vanity however — duty called. She poured a spoonful of the viscous blue liquid she got the night before into a teaspoon. It tasted sickly sweet, like someone dumped a vat full of sugar into it to hide an even more objectionable taste. She supposed she couldn’t complain though, at least she had the medicine. Next she brushed her hair and tied it back into a tight bun. Then used a dab of foundation to hide the dark bags about her eyes. She had to present a strong front for her team, looking weary would be a sign of frailty. Next she donned her burgundy fatigues (a colour well suited to obscuring bloodstains) and began the finicky process of strapping on her breastplate and tasselled captains pauldron. Finally she withdrew her weapons from a locked drawer, holstering them on her belt. First her saber, a thin line of steel that glistened gold in the morning light. Then her revolver, a hefty chunk of metal, far more deadly and practical than her mostly ceremonial sword.

Ashley glanced back at her mirror one last time, now fully donned in the uniform of the Corporate Guard. She looked strong, and as long as she looked strong she was strong. She straightened her posture, squared her shoulders and left to address her team.

They were a rag tag lot, many of whom were only freshly graduated from the College of Corporate Cadets. The turnover for new recruits is pretty quick these days, better not get too attached. They waited patiently in line to be handed their patrol tickets for the day. Ashley just had to make a quick addendum to one first. It was a fairly standard day, each received their ticket with little fuss. But Ashley had one ticket that was a little more personal than the others. But who to give it to?
“Jake.” She said, eyes clamping around the poor scrawny boy. Yes, Jake is appropriately unquestioning for the job.
Jake stood at attention, “Yes Captain Morgan?”
“Your ticket.” Jake nervously took the ticket, somewhat confused as to what warranted this extra attention by the Captain. She continued, “In addition to your regular patrol you will have an extra objective today.”
“Oh?” Asked Jake in a confused mix of fear and excitement.
“There is a pharmacy on Heartly Street, we have reason to suspect they have ties to an Anarchist cell. Search the place for any Regressionist material; pamphlets, propaganda that kinda thing — and be thorough, shut the place down for the day if you must.”
“Yes Miss!” Said Jake with an overly enthusiastic salute.
“It’s Ma’am…” corrected Ashley, glaring sharply down at Jake, “and you only have to salute to Commanders and above, not to Captains.”

Ashley had moved on before Jake could give his panicked apology. She could hardly hide her vindictive smirk that spread across her face from the idea of screwing over that prick of a pharmacist. Was it legal (or moral) to use police power for personal revenge? No. Did she care? Also no.

The tickets had been distributed and Ashley was just about to head to her cramped office before a clerk gave a polite cough in their direction. Ashley turned to greet the clerk, who held in his arms a thin folder of papers.
“May I help you?” Asked Ashley expectantly.
“Oh no, I’m just here to hand over a mission. Dispatch has had to shuffle around the schedule.”
“Mission?” Asked Ashley, but the clerk shoved the files into her hands and hurried off before she could get a response. She thumbed through the papers, scanning them. An unnamed Industrial Baron had a device of ‘revolutionary implications’ needing to be transported to a test site outside The City.

Outside The City?!

A mission out there for a team like hers, one composed mostly of fresh blood, is a death sentence. She’s heard the stories, same as anyone else. Even in the armoured train that would be transporting the device her team simply isn’t cut out for the task. What the hell got into dispatches heads, or rather who the hell got into their heads?

Ashley marched through the barrack corridors, slamming open the door to a stuffy little office similar to her own.
“Marcus you fuckwad!” She shouted, slamming her hands down on his desk, papers spilling to the floor.
Marcus looked up towards her, nonplussed at her entrance, “Yes, Morgan?”
“You did this.”
“Did… What, exactly?” Marcus’ face hardly moved a muscle, but she knew he was hiding a smirk.
Ashley took a couple of heavy breaths, calming herself, “You got my team assigned to this mission so you could absorb my jurisdiction into your own when me and my footmen get slaughtered.”
“That’s quite the accusation, Patrol Captain Morgan…” His smirk finally became visible.
“Fuck you Marcus. Who’s dick did you have to suck to get this to happen anyway?”
“Oh, isn’t that rich coming from you?” spat Marcus.
“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” asked Ashley, knowing full well what he meant.
“Just that you’re a very good Captain,” smirked Marcus, “Very good at following your Commander's orders…”
Ashley's face crumpled up in rage, her fingers clawing into his desk. She knew she could wring the life from the neck so easily, she could almost feel his fading pulse between her hands. With one final indignant smash of his table she stormed off.

After a few minutes her anger boiled away leaving behind a lingering fear. She was going on this mission. Her team was going on this mission. There wasn’t anything she could do about it. With no options left, she had to prepare.

She headed toward the armoury to get a headstart on preparing equipment for her team's departure, only to find Ada already there, or rather Footman Tilson. Ashley wondered what she was doing in the armoury?
“Oh, Ash!” said Ada, her enthusiasm mixing with her surprise.
“Captain Morgan during work hours Ad- Footman Tilson, please.”
“Right, yeah, I remember.” Ada’s brows furrowed, “Captain, are you okay? You seem perturbed…”
“Yes, just, well…” Ashley paused, “No… Things are not okay.”
Ada listened grimly as Ashley explained the mission, and its danger.
“It’s Marcus’ doing, I know it is.” Insisted Ashley.
“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now.” Ada shrugged.
“Yes there is, we prepare. Forget your patrol for today, I need the help checking our equipment and readying it for transportation. And besides, it’d be good to have your company.”

They spent much the rest of the day filling out requisition forms, checking munitions and packing crates. Gruntwork, but their team was not important enough to have the grunts to do it for them. The time passed quickly by Ada’s side. Ashley had always found her presence calming, even comforting. Her and Ada had known each other back in the College of Corporate Cadets, back before she was Ashley. That’s probably why she was so scared of telling Ada how she felt about her. She was the only person from that time of her life who stuck around. She couldn’t risk losing her as well. Besides, she was her superior now. She knew how those kinds of relationships worked all too well. She didn’t want that for them.

The hours ticked by and the sun sank beneath the smoke of The City.
“ … wow, that guy was an asshole!” Ada said, strapping a crate of rifles closed.
“Right!” Said Ashley, feeling vindicated by her friend, “Just give me the medicine that I fucking paid for, how hard is that?”.
“Still gonna have to report you for gross misconduct of Guard resources though.” Ada said gravely, only to break into a wide smile, cackling. Ashley laughed along, she really thought for just a moment that Ada was actually going to snitch on her to the Commander.
“But really, why Jake, he isn’t exactly the most intimidating of Guards?”
“No, but he is the most…” Ashley desperately searched for any word other than incompetent, and failed.
“Wow.” Ada replied, feigning offence on Jake's behalf.
Ashley hastily added, “Look, I knew if I sent anyone else they’d realise he didn’t have any contraband or Regressionist material in like, an hour. But Jake? Jake probably stuck around the whole day causing a mess. If anything It’s a compliment I chose him; I was relying on his sticktoitiveness.”
“Sticktoitiveness huh?” replied Ada, “Lets hope his sticktoitiveness keeps him safe out there…”
There was a pause as both their thoughts were drawn towards the coming mission.
Ada continued, “Are you scared?”
“No.” Ashley lied, “We have our orders, and our training to enact them.”
“I’m your friend, you can tell me our orders are bullshit if you want, you can tell me that you're scared, it’s alright.” Ashley could see genuine concern in Ada’s eyes. Was she implying that she was frightened and weak, like some child in need of comfort?
“I am your friend, Ada, but I will always be your captain first. Whatever I think about our orders, it is still my duty to follow them. As it’s your duty to follow mine.”
Ada looked dejected, perhaps even disappointed, “Well, captain, what are your orders?”
“Don’t die.”

The work was mostly done. Ashley had sent Ada off some time ago, it was getting late, and besides the conversation had turned somewhat grim. She left the armoury, her body aching. She did all she could for today. As she was heading out of the barracks she had an idea; if Marcus could do some string-pulling, then why couldn’t she? Commander Vaila often worked late, and sure enough when she approached her door the light from within was still glowing. She took a deep breath and knocked.
“Enter.” Responded the Commander from behind the door. Ashley entered the office, lavishly decorated in comparison to her own. The stern face of her commander stared down at a mountain of files, illuminated by an electric light. Commanders always got the fancy stuff.
She tucked a white streak of hair behind an ear, her gaze now fixed upon Ashley, “Guard Captain Morgan.” Such an unfamiliar term of address, despite Commander Vaila being so very familiar with her. Ashley held the mission file up like a barrier between them, as if naked, trying to protect her modesty.
“I came to talk to you about a mission my team has been assigned.”
“That you have been assigned. It’s your mission, and your responsibility to see it through. Those beneath your command are tools to accomplish that.”
“Yes, well…” Ashley stuttered, Vaila never let slip a chance to condescendingly correct her, she gingerly slid the folder onto Vaila’s desk. “My mission, it’s suicide. They’re sending us out —”
“Out of The City. I know.”
“You… You knew? Why didn’t you do anything to stop it?” Ashley struggled to hide her panic.
“I didn’t see a need to do anything to stop it.” She put plainly, “Captain, you seem stressed.” She leaned forward, “and I’ve had a long day. Why don’t you get on your knees and we can talk about it?”

Ashley’s eyes went wide. Here, now, today of all days?
“Well?” Vaila continued, expectantly.
“Will you reassign my team?” She asked. The Commander remained silent, this was not the response she wanted.
“Of course… Commander…” She corrected herself, stepping shakily forward. Vaila was right of course, she was stressed. Terrified even. The lives of her team were in her hands. Perhaps It’d help to let her take control, at least for a bit? Ashley now stood behind the desk with Vaila, her eyes flickering around the room, terrified to make contact with hers.
“On your knees.” She commanded, an order to which Ashley unquestioningly followed. “Good little soldier.” Smiled Vaila, her fingers gently scratching the back of Ashley's neck as if she were rewarding a particularly well trained pet. Ashley was intimidated by Vaila. Not only was she a more experienced combatant, but she was also her superior. Maybe that’s how all this started? As long as she did what she was told, followed her orders, Vaila would keep her safe.

Ashley now sat underneath the desk, Vaila blocking her only exit. Her commander unzipped her trousers, sliding them partially off. Ashley could see half a dozen different scars on her thighs alone. Vaila gripped Ashley's hair, pulling her face in between her thighs. She timidly began to lick, at least at first. Vaila, dissatisfied, pulled on Ashley's hair, pushing her in further. The sharp pain spurred Ashley to lick with more zeal. Vaila responded with a groan of pleasure.
“You’ll be fine out there, my good little soldier. You’ve taken to my training so very well. You are my favourite for a reason, afterall.”
Ashley responded with a muffled thanks, her reassurance providing a small measure of comfort. Vaila continued to stroke the hair of her favourite ‘little soldier’, pleased with her obedience. Ashley hated how aroused she was getting. It took a great amount of self control not to start touching herself. She had been punished for doing that before, and she did not want to be punished again.
“It’s all about the chain of command, captain. It’s all about control. As long as that chain remains unbroken all shall be well.” Vaila yanked Ashley’s head up, Ashley’s mouth now soaked wet, their eyes were locked. “In short, little soldier. Obey, and be obeyed. That is the key to survival.” Eyes wide, Ashley gave a small timid nod.

Then a knock on the door. A spike of adrenaline shot through Ashley. Vaila remained calm, shoving Ashley back between her thighs. Clasping her tightly, Vaila whispered, “No one can see you beneath my desk, so there’s no reason for you to stop licking, is there?” Ashley was mid whimpering out an objection when the Commander called the visitor in.

The door creaked open, “Ah, Footman Tilson, what brings you to my office so late at night?”
Ashley let out a panicked yelp that was fortunately muffled by the thighs currently wrapped around her head. Ada, here, at this hour? Why the hell was she still here? Was Vaila just fucking with here, was it someone else?
Much to Ashley’s horror it was Ada’s voice who replied, “I’m sorry Commander, difficulty sleeping. You see I’ve recently been made aware of a mission my team will be undertaking, one I do not feel entirely prepared for.”
“I see… And what exactly is it you want from me?” The Commander asked, giving Ashley a slight kick to encourage her pet to keep eating her out. Ashley buried herself further into her Commanders cunt. Maybe if she distracted herself enough she could pretend none of this was happening!
“More details. I know some of what the mission will entail, but only enough to stoke my anxiety. I was hoping I might be given a better idea of the specifics to ease my mind.”
The Commander gave a shaky high pitched, “Hmm” as if considering the request. Her thighs twitched and clenched around Ashley’s face. Did the Commander actually just cum mid conversation?
“Uh, yes. Yes I think that is a reasonable accommodation that can be made. Especially for a Footman with an exemplary record such as yourself.” The slight breathiness to her voice confirmed Ashley's suspicions, “As a matter of fact Captain Morgan came here not too long ago and left the mission file behind. Take them and browse at your leisure. Just make sure to return them to the Captain when you’re done.”
Ada went to grab the file. She was inches away, literally standing above her, only the desk now protected her dignity. Ashley couldn’t bear to have her see her like this, being used like this. Her eyes watered up, she wasn’t even sure why.
“Thank you Commander.” Ada picked the files up, and quickly left, much to Ashley's relief.

The Commander pushed Ashley off her. She was quietly laughing to herself, a sound Ashley couldn’t quite remember hearing before.
“Well, my little soldier, weren’t you well behaved today.” She said, giving Ashley a scratch behind the ear, her wetness still dripping down her soldier's face. Ashley tried wiping it away, only resulting in spreading the mess.
“Go. Clean yourself up and get to bed. You did a good job today, Captain.”
Ashley stood up silently and left.

She got back to her quarters. She washed her face, brushed her hair, and got out of her uniform. She sat on her bed and looked at herself in the mirror, naked, her body striped with scars, her hair rolling down her shoulders. She noticed she was crying. She went to sleep.

The train screamed through the endless span of dead fields, it had done so for a day, and would do so for a day more. Ashley watched the ruins of old cities pass by, remnants left behind by the march of progress. She thought about the people who lived there, how their lives might have been different from her own. She idly wished records were kept of that time. But history was banned for a reason. To look back risks you getting stuck in the past, to progress you must only look forward.

But for now Ashley needed to remain in the present. The Rail-Spotters said that the track was clear all the way to the test site and they’d keep her apprised of any changes. Yet somehow that didn’t ease her anxiety. She had a dozen men and twice as many carriages as that to guard. Fortunately for her only one really mattered.

Within the very frontmost carriage sat a hefty safe. Within a device of some kind. Whatever it was, that was the reason for their excursion. Once it was delivered to the testing site she and her people could get back home and into the relative safety of The City. Ashley had sent Ada to the front carriage to guard the device, reasoning she was the most experienced and trusted of her team. She had also sent Jake with her, reasoning someone needed to keep an eye on him.

She continued her rounds, patrolling from one end of the train to the other. Her troops were inexperienced, to say the least. Most of them were unsuited for this kind of operation. But Ashley expected that, and did her best to whip them into shape.

Then, within one of the carriages holding the fuel, she noticed something odd. One of the crates looked off, as if coal was just dangling off the side. Upon closer inspection she found that the crate was in fact empty, a layer of coal placed atop the lid to make it seem full, the lid accidentally left ajar. Within were the remains of rations, someone was hiding within and had since left.

Ashley was flung into a panic, how could she have not noticed this before? The preparation suggested something more than just a stowaway, this was the work of Anarchists. She thought of Ada and Jake being caught unawares, she rushed madly to the front of the train, which was fortunately only a few carriages away; likely just as the Anarchists had planned.

In the carriage just behind the one the safe was stored within she found Ada, seemingly unharmed. She looked pensive, though that was hardly unexpected given the mission, yet as she caught sight of Ashley her anxiety only seemed to grow.
“Where’s Jake?” Ashley asked, she couldn’t spot him within the cramped carriage hallway.
Ada shrugged, “He went to the toilet I think.”
“Right, good.” A wave of relief washed over Ashley, seeing her friend in one piece, “and the safe?”
“Fine.” Ada replied, giving an awkward smile.
“It might not be for long, I think we have some Anarchist stowaways.” Ashley unholstered her gun, gesturing for Ada to do the same, “We need to secure the vault carriage.”

As Ashley made her way forward towards the next carriage along, Ada seemed hesitant to let her pass, blocking the way forward.
“Ashley, It’s fine, I would’ve noticed some Anarchist hooligans if they tried to get past me.”
“It’s Captain Morgan while on duty, remember…” Ashley wasn’t stupid, Ada was clearly agitated and trying to prevent her from getting to the vault. That combined with the fact Jake was missing suggested some kind of hostage situation. Fuck, what the hell was she supposed to do now?

“Anyway, yeah, you're probably right… I’ll check the back carriages just to be safe.” Ashley said, uncertain if the hostage takers could hear their conversation. Silently she began to gesture: One, two, three — trying to get any idea of how many there were in the car ahead. Yet Ada didn’t nod, or give any indication otherwise. She just frowned. Ashley was confused as to why Ada wasn’t cooperating, what didn’t she know? Her breathing quickened, if Ada couldn’t help she’d have to do it alone. She readied herself to breach the carriage alone, but again Ada blocked her way, her hand now hovering by her revolver.
“Ashley, I really think you shouldn’t.”

Ashley was frozen, her eyes locked with her friends. What fear she saw in Ada had gone, replaced now with sadness, and a steely determination.
“Get out of the way, Footman Tilson.” She ordered, though the fear in her voice perhaps undermined the command.
“Ashley…” She did not move.
Why wasn’t Ada moving, why the fuck wasn’t Ada moving? She couldn’t believe it, she didn’t want to believe it. She couldn’t actually be working with them could she? could she?
With a shaky voice Ashley asked again, “Where is Jake?”
“He’s okay, Ashley, I promise.”
“What the fuck did you do with him?” Ashley’s fear turned to anger, her gun now leveled at Ada.
“He’s okay, he’s just… Asleep right now.”
“So you are with them, then? You threw your lot in with a bunch of degenerate Regressionists?"
“In so many words… Yes, I suppose I did.” Ada answered grimly.
With that admission Ashley’s stomach twisted into a knot, her mind burnt with rage and panic, her eyes swelled with tears. Was this why she lingered in the barracks at strange times, is this why she wanted to be so involved in the planning of missions, is this why she became her one and only friend? Was their entire relationship just a means to an end? All these horrible thoughts racing through her head culminated in a simple, “Why?”

“Why?” Ada repeated, it was the first time Ashley thought she saw her truly angry, “Because I was enlisted into the cadets when I was sixteen. My parents sold one child off to them so they could feed the rest. Fuck, you were enlisted at thirteen Ashley, you went through the whole of your teenage years being groomed into a soldier.”
“That’s not a reason, that’s a sob story. We do good work, we keep The City safe, now you turn your back on that work?” Ashley just couldn’t understand.
“Yes, yes I did turn my back on it.” Ashley hated this, hated how angrily Ada spat her words out towards her, how her friend had so quickly turned to her enemy, “We don’t protect, we don’t keep the peace, we only keep order. We keep the machine that turns people into profit running smoothly. We were monsters. But we never had a choice, we were children, they took us when we were at our most vulnerable.” Ada’s anger cooled, if only slightly, being replaced with an earnest attempt to reach out to her friend, “But Ashley, we’re grown women now, we can choose to be something else, something other than the monsters we were made to be.”

Ashley heard a small blast from the carriage ahead, the train shook in response.
“Please…” Ada begged, one hand outstretched, the other still hovering next to her revolver. Ashley’s hand shook, her gun pointed toward Ada. Her breathing was ragged, her head swam. Ashley opened her mouth to answer, only to be interrupted by two men clad in anarchist blue storming out of the carriage ahead, shouting toward Ada to get to cover. One held something odd, a hand mirror of some kind. Surely that couldn’t be the device?

It all happened so fast. The anarchist held the mirror aloft, to which it began to shine a brilliant and strange light. In response Ashley pulled the trigger, the bullet ripping through the air. At the same time the light coalesced, the carriage in front of her vanishing, and in its place a strange and alien landscape. The train’s momentum carried several carriages crashing through the portal before it suddenly snapped shut. With a crack Ashley’s skull hit solid steel.

When she awoke she found herself in a place entirely alien to her. What little of the train was spirited away along with her now laid scattered across a rocky beach. She stumbled out of the wreckage, still dazed from the crash and Ada’s betrayal. The ocean was lavender, the sea spray smelt like roses. A forest - at least what Ashley thought a forest would look like - sat just beyond the coast. The trees stood tall, hidden within the bark of each was a gnarled smiling face. Did one just wink at her?

Worst of all was the sky. It was clean, unlike her home. White dots, stars she reckoned, polka dotted the black. They did in fact remind her of the spire's city lights. Yet sitting amongst them was the Moon, but surely not her own. Drawn across its face was a wide toothy smile, above which two brilliant blue eyes gazed down at the world below. She was terrified, she was alone, and most of all she wished Ada were here with her.

Chapter Text

The sun dragged its way across the sky above Ashley. Despite its size it was far dimmer than the sun she knew, dim enough to look directly at without discomfort. It dominated the strange teal sky it sat within, resembling a huge amber fractal. The murky light it provided did not help with her search.

She had been here for a week now, or there abouts. Thankfully the coal carriage had been transported along with her, so fuel wasn’t an issue. Food however was. The College of Corporate Cadets had trained her for a great many things, wilderness survival however was not one of them; mainly due to there being no wilderness left. This unfortunate gap in her skillset led her to eating berries she definitely shouldn’t have, causing her to spend her first two days terribly sick. The next few days after that incident consisted of trying to chart out her local surroundings, hunting with her little remaining ammo, and desperately searching.

She still hadn’t found it. Ashley was on her knees, rummaging through a particularly unfriendly bush. Its vines fought back at her as she searched it from leaf to root. Still, she found nothing. Ashley lifted herself back to her feet, giving a rude gesture towards the disgruntled bush, to which it responded in kind, much to Ashley’s discomfort. Why did everything here have to be so alive?

She walked back to the overturned carriages, clambering up into the foremost one. She stood approximately where she was during her confrontation with Ada, and held her gun out just as she did then. She looked down the sights and out of the carriage, into the wilds beyond. She should’ve found the bullet by now, surely? It went through the portal, or it went through Ada. If she could only find it here then she could know it wasn’t in her. Ashley stowed her gun and sighed. For all she knew the bullet was stolen away by some magical squirrel or an ill-tempered shrub. She should forget about the bullet, about Ada. All that was in the past, and as her tutors always drilled into her, the past impedes progress.

She was dragged out of her thoughts by a sharp pang of hunger radiating from her stomach. She had five bullets left. If her aim was good — and it was — that meant five more easy hunts. After that she’d have to fashion a more primitive weapon to hunt with. She set off into the wilds once again. The City had a few wild animals: pigeons, rats, the occasional dire-goose; but most others were confined to the factory farms on the City's edge. But here, here they roamed free. Small furry things scuttered about the tree tops, watching Ashley warily with wide black eyes. They needn’t fear her though. She wasn’t about to waste a bullet killing something so small. She was looking for something larger.

She found what she was looking for in the form of a deer, or at least a deer adjacent thing; she was pretty certain they weren’t supposed to have mandibles. She knelt low. The strange sunlight glinted off the treated steel of her revolver. She used her knee to steady her aim, and peered down the sights. The beast razed its head from grazing, suddenly alert. Had it heard her? Despite Ashley’s conditioning, she hesitated a moment. Then, the creature's antlers writhed about, revealing themselves to in fact be a set of tentacles. They pointed toward Ashley, their ends unfolding into unblinking eyes. In a moment of pure animal panic she pulled the trigger. The crack rang out throughout the forest, a thousand tiny things darted away through the underbrush. The deer-thing began to run. Had one shot not been enough? Ashley pursued. Emerald blood marked the trail it fled. Sure enough at the trail's end she found the creature’s corpse, limp and bloody. Relieved Ashley knelt next to the cadaver, assessing how best to transport it back to camp.

As Ashley finally came to a conclusion on how best to transport the carcass, (wrap its tentacles around her waist and drag it), she heard the snap of a twig. Just like the deer she had killed, she froze, eyes fixed wide in the direction of the noise. Hadn’t all the animals been scared away by her gunshot? Whatever approached her now was unafraid. Again, a rustle. Ashley spun about, only to catch a glimpse of a shadow darting between the trees. Her mind raced, imagining what sorts of apex predators stalked this twisted woods.

Then it revealed itself. She stood tall between two misshapen trees, a bow held loosely in one hand, a long feline creature by her side; like someone had stretched a cat out and gifted it with far too many legs. Her face was perhaps best described as sharp, angular even. Ever so slightly inhuman and yet undeniably beautiful. Her long brown hair was twisted into a braid that ran down her back, and from her forehead curled up two spiralling horns. Her upper half was that of a woman. Her torso was tattooed in floral patterns, her modesty protected by little more than a strip of cloth. Yet her lower half was monstrous to Ashley’s eyes. She had cloven hooves and legs like that of a goat or sheep. The fur of her legs was dyed, forming a similar design as that of the patterns upon her torso. But worst of all were her eyes. Though hard to tell from the distance, it seemed her pupils were rectangular, reminiscent of a letter box. But it was not that which disturbed Ashley, it was the intelligence behind them.

This woman, if Ashley could call it that, looked at her with an alien intent. It had revealed itself for a reason, that was certain. Was it to intimidate her, to provoke her into falling prey to some trap? The creature began to stalk toward her. Ashley struggled to think through the fear. But she didn’t need to think. Even if her mind couldn’t remember her training, her muscles remembered what to do. In one quick motion Ashley raised her gun and fired. The woman’s feline hunting companion leapt up, taking the shot in the woman's stead, bright green blood on its black fur. The woman's gaze broke off of her, frantically tending to her monstrous cat. Before Ashley could even process her own actions, she took the chance to run.

Rena fell to her knees, Opal, her ever-faithful companion, bled profusely. Their long body writhed about in pain. She could hardly stomach seeing them hurt like this. The stranger had run. Rena would deal with whoever that was later, for now she needed to save her friend. She scooped Opal up and raced home. Their writhing began to lessen, though Rena was uncertain if that was a good thing. She glimpsed the white limewash walls of her cottage through the tree trunks and hardly slowed as she barged through the front door. She placed Opal on the dining table and hurried to collect what medical supplies she had on hand. Carefully she extracted the projectile from her companions' side. It was tiny, metallic and nothing like she’d seen before, even in all her travels. She began to apply what healing salves she had ready, stitching and dressing the wound.

The sun began to sink, and Opal was still breathing, albeit raggedly. Exhausted, Rena fell into her rocking chair with a sigh. Her beloved Kittypillar would live another day. Now with the space to think, she began to wonder what exactly that stranger was. She wore metal armour, but not copper or bronze, surely it couldn’t have been iron? Her weapon was so strange as well, it made such a thunderous noise. She was not native to the Wildweald, that was for certain. She must’ve come from another world. But which one?

Wherever she had come from, she was dangerous. But Rena did not share the taste for needless violence this stranger clearly had. No, she would not kill her, nor harm her if she could help it. She just needed to capture the stranger. Then, once she’s no longer a threat to anyone, she could work out what should be done with her and who exactly she was. Though perhaps she needn’t wait to find out the identity of this violent visitor. The denizens of the Mythwood held many secrets and stories, perhaps they knew. If Rena could wrangle the truth from them that is.

It was late, but the trees never slept. Rena asked the grinning Tattle-Trees about the stranger, at least the more agreeable ones. As it turned out the newcomer is the talk of the Mythwood. Though as always the trees who tell the tallest tales always grow to be the tallest as well. Usually this competition of narrative one-upsmanship is a boon for the forest, each retelling growing the story and the forest alike. It is not a boon however when someone is trying to procure accurate information. According to some trees the stranger is a dread-cousin who came to burn the forest down. Others meanwhile insist she is a she-ogre infant, simply searching for her mother. After a little bit of searching however she found a sapling tucked away in the underbrush whose shaded branches barely scraped enough sunlight together to get by.

“She’s a human.” Its small voice squeaked in quiet awe.
Rena tilted her head, it was obviously mistaken, but it’d be rude to upset the little one by not playing along, “Incredible. A human you say?”
“Yes yes, a human!” It echoed back enthusiastically, “A real live human, here in the Mythwood!”
Rena didn’t see it grow an inch. At the very least it hadn’t added anything extra to the story it was told, “Do you know how the human got here?”
“Dragon!” Said the little sapling with a satisfied smile. A new twig twirled out from its trunk.
“Hehe, yes. Yes of course she got here atop a dragon!” Rena said, ruffling the small one’s leaves.

It was the little ones like this that needed protecting the most. She worried for the fate of her forest. She had no idea how far this interloper's reckless violence would grow. Whatever she was, she needed to be stopped. But it was terribly late and Rena was tired. She would sleep for tonight and keep an eye on her beloved Opal. Tomorrow she would spend the day preparing pollen balloons and dazing darts. Then, when the sun set, she would hunt.

When Ashley finally made it back to camp her nerves had settled somewhat. It didn’t seem like she was followed, so she at least had a little time to prepare. The next day was spent clearing the coast surrounding the train wreck, felling small trees and clearing the bushes, anything that could obscure the creatures' approach to her camp was removed.

She regretted taking the shot. She had such little ammo left she couldn’t afford to waste it like she had. That entire excursion had cost two bullets, and yielded only one angry goat-woman. What was it anyway? It wasn’t human, that was for certain. Ashley knew well how cruel humans could be, the denizens of this feral and lawless world would surely be even worse.

The sun set and the moon's amethyst eyes just barely peaked over the ocean’s horizon. Not that Ashley noticed, her back was to the sea, her gaze locked on the forest beyond. Her stomach growled, she hadn’t had anything to eat for a few days. But how could she hunt knowing that monster was out there? After all those woods are her — it’s — territory. Venturing into there now would be suicide. No, she had to wait for it to come to her.

But Rena had already arrived, stalking just beyond Ashley’s sight. Her efforts in clearing away the shrubs and saplings only instilled a false sense of security in Ashley, and a deep anger in Rena. This interloper sat amongst a field of dead saplings. She felt sick just looking at it, though with any luck their spirits could still be saved. She withdrew a pollen balloon from her pack and prepared to throw.

Without warning Ashley was engulfed in a choking pink mist. Her eyes began to water to the point of blurring her vision and her throat began to tighten. Ashley stumbled about half blind, she hadn’t expected the barbarian to launch a chemical attack on her of all things! Eventually she emerged from the mist and into the forest. The woodland was lit by what scraps of moonlight could make its way between the tree trunks. She was firmly in its territory now, no doubt what the creature wanted. But Ashley remained calm. She was a captain of the Corporate Guard, trained to combat armed terrorists. She could handle a goat with a bow.

Her gun raised, she began to pace through the woods. The mist had disoriented her, but if she could make her way back to the coast and into the open she’d have the advantage. Ashley was careful to remain utterly silent. Not to remain hidden — she was certain her assailant knew precisely where she was — but instead so her own footsteps didn’t mask its.

A twig snapped, just barely audible. Ashley spun around with mechanical precision. A gunshot shattered the silence. Bark exploded, shattering across the forest floor. The bullet collided with a trunk, inches away from the shadow that now darted out of sight.

Though she had missed, Ashley was certain that the shot had spooked it. Maybe she could just scare it off? No, she had to kill it now, or it’d just come back. Perhaps even with friends. She had two shots left. Though it was tall, it was also lithe. One shot to its centre of mass would likely kill it, two certainly would. Besides, she still had a sabre should the need arise.

With still no coastline in sight her panic began to rise. She could still surely defeat this thing in its territory. But the woodland certainly gave it an advantage. She heard a loud bellowing from behind her, Ashley turned around to see a tall tree yelling out, its oaken face contorting in rage, its booming voice spoke in a language she did not recognise. Was it trying to give away her position? Ashley, not knowing what else to do, and desperately wanting the thing to just shut up, raised her gun and shot the tree. Wood shards flew through the air, but the tree still screamed out. She felt like an idiot. Did she really think she could kill a tree by shooting it? Whatever, she wasted a bullet, but she still had one shot left. Besides, it isn’t like it knew how many rounds she had remaining.

Ashley wouldn’t admit it to herself, but she was lost. She had no idea how far from her camp she was now, or which direction it was even in. But that’s fine, that was an issue for after she killed this thing. She insisted to herself she was the one hunting it, not the other way around. She could hear it darting about just beyond her sight. She hesitated, waiting for a clear shot. She saw its shadow again, peaking out from just behind a tree. Steadily, carefully, she moved forward, gun pointed ahead. This was her chance. If she could get a jump on it she could finish this here and now. She held her breath, not daring to make a noise. She steadied herself against the bark of the tree. She listened. She could hear its breath. She spun around to the other side of the tree trunk. She fired her shot. There was nothing there.

How was there nothing there? She was so certain she had it in her sights. Ashley stumbled backward, twisting around, looking for the thing. It had to be here somewhere? Her breathing hastened, her heart began to race. She could hear it getting closer, she just couldn’t see the fucking thing. Not that it mattered anymore — she was out of bullets.

Then it was there, standing before her plain as day, lit by the hideous moon above. Why was it standing there, did it know she was out of ammo, was her panic so poorly hidden? Her breathing had reached the point of near hyperventilation. Her hands shook as she pointed her gun toward it. She couldn’t see a hint of fear in its eyes, instead it looked at her like she was its prey. In a moment of horrid realisation Ashley realised it was right. She dropped her empty gun and ran.

She was used to sprinting across the cobbled pavements of The City in pursuit of criminals. She was not however used to being the one pursued, nor the dense foliage of the forest floor. She stumbled over herself in her mad dash forward. Fear had eroded her mind to that of a simple prey animal. She knew it was right behind her, it could surely have caught her by now. Was it toying with her?

Thorns lodged themselves into her skin as she crashed blindly through a dense thicket, drawing thin red scratches across her face. As she broke through the bushes she found herself tumbling down. She landed feet first into a muddy ditch. A sharp pain shot up her leg as she felt her ankle dislocate. She let slip a scream of pain and panic. She limped away in as much of a sprint as she could muster. Each step was horribly painful. Her heart beat heavily against her chest as if it wanted to burst out.

Her hunter slowed her pursuit, stalking Ashley as she hobbled towards… Where exactly? Ashley realised she had no plan, no ideas for escape. She was starving and sick from her time spent in the wild, she hardly had the strength to fight back, especially now one of her ankles couldn’t even support her weight. She was lost and scared. She stopped, exhausted, bracing herself against a tree. She turned around. She couldn’t see it, but she knew it was out there, watching.

“Please, I’m sorry, this was all a mistake! Just… I don’t want to die, please!” Ashley couldn’t believe she was begging. She had more dignity than that, surely? It probably couldn’t even understand her, “I just want to leave, I just want—” Her pleading was cut short as a dart plunged into her neck. Ashley grasped at it, pulling the needle out of her. But it was already too late. As she looked down at the dart, the colour of its tail feathers began to bleed into the air, like paint in water. She dropped it, staggering forward.

She drew her sabre, spinning around, looking for the beast. The world around her was melting, colour drifting away from their objects. Her head swum, her thoughts hazy just like the world around her. Ashley’s balance was already hindered by her crippled ankle, now worsened by whatever toxin flooded her mind.

Then it — she — stepped out from the woods. Whatever hallucinogen clouded Ashley's mind made her seem even more terrifyingly beautiful than before. The amber of her eyes drifted upward like two flickering flames. Her tattoos waved and shifted like grass in the wind. Her horns shone like silver in the pale blue moonlight. Ashley raised her sabre, only to find she barely had the strength to do so. She wanted to say something valiant, heroic, something worthy of a Guard Captain's last words. All that came out were some small terrified cries.

Ashley had fought bitterly her entire life. She climbed so far, so high, all despite the world's cruelty to her. If she were to die here, she at least wanted to be true to the bitterness and spite that had gotten her so far. With what little strength she had left she charged. Spittle flew as she screamed, her lungs burning from the chase. She got three steps forward before her ankle gave out. Her scream turned to one of pain. Her foot stuck out at an uncanny angle. Her sabre rattled to the ground. She began to fall. Rena dropped her bow and dashed forward, catching Ashley in her arms.

Ashley braced for a knife to slip into her belly, for her blood to come pouring out of her. It never came. Her breathing slowed, her limbs now far too heavy to even move now. Panic and pain still wracked her, but whatever she had been drugged with numbed it. Ashley finally gave in. She surrendered to this creature, this woman. As even the strength to hold her eyelids open faded, the last thing she saw were the eyes of her captor looking down at her. She didn’t know what she expected to see in them, but she certainly didn’t expect pity.

Chapter Text

The first thing Ashley felt as she woke was the tightness of the rope around her arms and legs, as well as the collar about her neck. She shifted about sluggishly, testing her restraints, which she found all too secure. Her eyes adjusted to the dark of the room. She knelt on old worm-eaten floorboards, a short leash binding her to a solid oak beam. The aesthetic of the room seemed quaint, rustic and rugged, but still well kept. The room was host to an armoury of tools. Mostly gardening implements from the looks of it, though oddly all made of bronze, their finish now verdigris from age. Ashley surveyed each tool, judging its worthiness as a weapon. If only she could get to one.

Before Ashley could finish rustling up a strategy for escape a door opened. Warm amber light flooded the toolroom, her captors silhouette standing tall above her. Ashley awkwardly shuffled to her feet, only to be dragged back down by the cutting pain that wrapped about her ankle. Her monstrous captor knelt down to meet her, fussing over her injury.
“I apologise that I could not heal your foot, I am a little unused to your particular anatomy.” She said with a voice Ashley swore she recognised, one oddly dissonant to that of the creature's appearance.
Ashley responded with contempt, “Ha, of course a cloven hoofed freak like you couldn’t treat a sprained ankle.” Yet the words left her throat only in the form of a snarl. Again, she tried to speak. Again, only a grunt.
“Ah, yes, the matter of your words. Unfortunately I did not know the language you spoke, so I had to borrow your speech for a short while.” She said, in what Ashley now realised with horror, was her own voice.
“What the fuck, what the actual fuck!?” Became nothing more than a fearful yelp. How could someone take her words, how was that even possible? She continued to try and form words, only resulting in increasingly pitiful barks as she realised the futility of speech.
“Do not worry, I shall be returning it!” She said, trying to calm her now spiralling prisoner.

Ashley looked up to her captor's elegant, almost geometric face, and spat. A globule of drool ran down her cheek. She wiped it off, a bubbling anger just barely visible in her eyes. She stood. Ashley expected retaliation, only for her to sigh, “I see you need time to calm down. I expect better behaviour upon my return.” With that she left, leaving Ashley alone and bound in the dark.

An unsuccessful first conversation by all measures. Rena rubbed her temple in frustration, sweeping a hand across a horn. First she tried to kill her — only to end up hurting her precious kittypillar — and then she spat on her. This one, whatever she may be, was not skilled in making a good first impression. But anger was a fog that would only obscure the path forward. Her aggression must be met with patience, a fire like hers can only burn for so long without fuel. Hopefully, anyway.

Rena climbed the crooked stairs to her eclectic study. Half finished projects littered every inch of table space. A bookshelf overflowing with volumes followed the irregular bends of the rooms walls. Nestled amongst the nicknacks was Opal, dozing contently. Rena was pleased to see they had eaten some of the kibble she’d left.
“Who is the sweetest, who is the sweetest?” Rena asked Opal, gently stroking their comically long body, Opal responding with a deep satisfied purr. “Yes! Yes it is you, it is you my sweetness! You who are yet sweeter than a berry pie, and most certainly sweeter than that mean lady who hurt you!”

Ah, yes, the mean lady. Rena remembered she had come up here for a reason other than harassing poor Opal. She turned her attention to the equipment the stranger had brought with her. A breastplate, pauldron, sword and a projectile weapon of some sort. She slipped on a charred oven glove and picked up the pauldron. Though her armour wasn’t iron, it certainly contained it. When the stranger collapsed into her arms the armour pressed against her chest, singing her. Concerningly even her strange red blood seemed to contain iron, having burnt Rena when she tried to tend to her wounds. Clearly she was not affected by the Fae-Curse, and so not of the Wildweald.

Rena turned her attention to the engravings upon the shoulderpad. They didn’t seem magical in nature, simply decorative. Seven small toothed circles surrounded a central icon of a three fingered claw. Below, written in the language she had borrowed, was an inscription that read ‘BURN THE PAST TO FUEL THE FUTURE.’ The exceptionally ominous manta and its associated symbol were curious, but did little to narrow down what exactly she was. The equipment was unlikely to yield any more useful information for now. Besides, she had a woman tied up in her toolroom who had all the answers. She just needed to get it out of them.

Some time later her captor returned. The door opened and this time she didn’t come empty handed. She sat, placing a plate of buttered bread between the two of them.
“I am sorry, I feel as if we may have gotten off on the wrong hoof.” She said, giving a patient smile, “I am Rena, the caretaker of these woods. I hope you have calmed enough to eat.” Ashley was hardly listening, her gaze fixed intently on the bread; she hadn’t eaten for days. She wriggled, her arms still bound tightly behind her back. Why tease her with food so cruelly?
Rena, misinterpreting Ashley’s frustration, said, “It is a meager meal, I know. But I did not wish to upset your stomach with something larger after having eaten so little.”
Ashley growled with frustration, gesturing awkwardly with her head at the ropes which bound her. A flicker of realisation came over Rena’s face as she giggled, “Oh, yes of course.” Rena picked up a piece of bread and lifted it toward Ashley's mouth.

Ashley froze, eyes locked onto the bread dangled in front of her. She wasn’t actually going to let this monster feed her like some captured beast, was she? Her stomach grumbled, her mouth began to salivate.
“Do not fear, it is not poisoned!” Affirmed Rena having noticed her reluctance, subsequently realising what a stupid thing that was to say to her. Poisoned or not however, Ashley was starving. Tentatively she leant forward and took a small bite.

The bread was soft, almost spongy, gorgeously warm in her mouth. The butter was deliciously creamy, a generous amount spread across the piece she was given. It could have just been her hunger, but this might have been the best bread she’d ever tasted. The best food she’d tasted, perhaps. Rena was taken a little by surprise by Ashley's eagerness. The piece of bread was snatched away from Rena’s fingers and quickly devoured.

“Well, I am pleased my baking is appreciated!” Rena giggled, pinching another piece from the plate, “May I ask some questions?” she asked, dangling the slice just beyond Ashley's reach. Ashley felt humiliated, degraded. What next, was she going to make her beg and whine for her food? Ashley nodded. Rena fed Ashley her bread, which was quickly finished in a handful of bites. The taste of her ‘reward’ almost overcame her sense of shame in being treated this way.

Rena gave a smug smile as she watched Ashley enjoy her food. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t enjoying toying with her. She had shot Opal afterall, she felt justified in indulging herself with a little revenge.
“Did you come here alone?” Rena asked, probably best to make sure this was the only interloper she needed to worry about.
Ashley’s first instinct was to lie. Perhaps if she were to say no —or rather shake her head— then she may leave her alone looking for her ‘friends’ and provide an opportunity for escape. But then again it may just make her captor more alert. Perhaps it was best to tell the truth, if only to keep her overconfident. Ashley nodded.
“All alone, hm? You did a lot of damage for a lone woman. I would be impressed if I was not so miffed.” Rena fed her another piece, she couldn’t help but notice how precious Ashley looked as she did her best to savour the bread, and not to just devour it in a single great gulp. Rena continued her questioning, “Did you even mean to come here?”
Ashley admitted she didn’t with a timid shake of the head. She handed her another slice, to which Ashley eagerly ate. Though the pitiful frown Rena gave her soured it somewhat. Then, Rena asked a question she hadn’t anticipated, “Do you want to go home?”

Of course she did, right? The City was a harsh place, Ashley had no delusions otherwise, but it was at least home. It was at least a place that she understood. Here, wherever here was, worked on dream-logic and was teaming with horrible creatures — her captor the worst of the lot. So then logically she wanted to go back. Logically she should go back. But what was waiting for her there? Commander Vaila would no doubt be furious at her failure, she’d be punished thoroughly, that was certain. Not only that, but what was she to tell them; that her most loyal soldier had betrayed her, that she was trapped in a nightmare realm for days on end? Her superiors would either believe she was lying and a traitor like Ada, or they’d think she was incompetent and dismissed from the guard. The former would likely get her executed. The latter… Well, she’d be dismissed from the guard of course. She’d go homeless, probably ending up in some soot-stained workhouse. Then without money or her superiors pulling strings she’d be cut off her medication, and forced to detransition.

Ashley was drawn out of her thoughts by the scent of warm bread. Rena sat closer now, holding out a slice for Ashley to take. She hadn’t even answered her question yet. Perhaps the absence of an answer was one enough. Did she sadness in those strange rectangular eyes? Did she pity her? This tiny act of empathy was all it took to turn Ashley’s shame into a burning, angry, indignity. She would never accept pity, never admit weakness, especially from some chimeric freak like her. She was a captain of the guard damn it! She was respected and feared by those under her. This thing should learn to do the same. Ashley bit into the bread, and with her teeth tossed it to the floor. She was done with her bullshit. She tried unleashing a torrent of insults, unable to contain her frustration anymore, only to produce a low guttural growl.

Rena was near enough now to see her face clearly. Her features were lit by the warm pastel light that spilled out the doorway. Her face was soft, though hardly delicate, a stark red scar across the ridge of her nose suggested a violent past. Her hair was a tangled mess, and her cheeks were smeared in dirt. She’d need a wash sooner or later. The resentment in her bagged eyes was clear, though she still did not understand its source. But she wanted to. In all her travels across the Wildweald she had never encountered something so wrathful and fearful as her. She was a knot that needed to be unpicked, a puzzle to be understood, a person to help. What else was she to do with her but aid her the best she could? Though even Rena’s patience had its limits. She was tired, and she could see the stranger was tired too.

With a sigh Rena asked, “I am weary, and by the looks of it so are you. I took the liberty of preparing a more comfortable sleeping area than this bare wooden floor. Will you at least entertain the idea of sleeping there, or will you refuse any hospitality I try to provide?” After a moment of consideration, Ashley responded with an affirmative grunt.

Rena untied Ashley, took her by the leash, and guided her through the cottage. It was homely, and massive by Ashley’s standards. Most guardsmen shared sleeping-halls, but her captaincy had permitted her a shoebox all to herself. This dwarfed even her commander's accommodation. They passed the small study in which Opal slept and into a bedroom filled to the brim with drapes and cushions. Ashley had never seen such a plush room in her life. In the corner of the room was something resembling a dog cage. It had cushions inside. She felt her stomach sink. A heat rose up the back of her neck. Was she seriously going to make her sleep in fucking that?

Rena noticed Ashley’s wide eyed stare, “Ah, yes, the cage! It was Opal’s, my pet, you know them. The majestic, beautiful, sweet, innocent creature you shot…” It was clear Rena was struggling to keep a lid on her frustrations. Opal was apparently a soft spot for her, “... But, yes, anyway. They are very well behaved now, so no longer require it. You, on the other hand, are not well behaved at all. But do not worry! I have furnished it with many pillows and blankets. I have even placed a drape over the cage to give you privacy while you sleep.” She explained whilst demonstrating lowering and lifting a quilt over the crate she was supposed to sleep in, as if this were some revolutionary new technology. Seeing Ashley was still apprehensive she gave the ultimatum, “It is either the cage, where you can sleep surrounded with cushions and blankets. Or you sleep in the toolroom tied to that post. It is your choice.”

With a mix between a growl and sigh Ashley clambered into the dog cage. Or rather the kittypillar cage. The interior practically suffocated her with the sheer number of fluffy cushions and cozy blankets. It did seem to fit the trend of Rena’s maximalist interior design. Ashley couldn’t say it was uncomfortable though. She quickly nestled into her plush surroundings, now looking up at Rena as she shut the cage door behind her and locked it. Rena smiled from past the bars, clearly pleased that she hadn’t put up too much resistance. Wait, why hadn’t she put up more resistance? Suddenly Ashley felt very self conscious that she had simply gone along with all this.

“I am so glad you are settling into your new accommodation! Perhaps once you have shown you can overcome your…” Rena paused, looking for the right word, “viciousness, I might be able to procure you a less restrictive sleeping area. Unless you happen to be fond of this one, of course.” Rena giggled. Ashley could hardly muster the energy to put on an act of resistance. Maybe whatever she was drugged with still lingered in her system, maybe it was finally not having to sleep in the dirt, or maybe she was just unbelievably tired. Either way after Rena lowered the blanket over the cage and Ashley’s little world was bathed in shadow, she quickly fell asleep.

She was screaming. Two guards, men who once served her, dragged her through the halls of the garrison naked. Her body was beaten black and blue with bruises. Once comrades-in-arms spat at her as she was escorted away. She was a failure and a traitor, at least in the eyes of those who had the power to decide such things. She was thrown into a cold and secluded room. Her skull bounced off the stone floor of the chamber with a thud. She looked up, dazed, to see her commander staring down at her. Her hand wrapped around her throat, she was wrenched up and tossed into a metal chair, cold steel pressed against her bare skin. She could feel someone standing just behind her.

“A degenerate, I knew. But a Regressionist? My little soldier, how you disappoint me…” Commander Vaila stood over her, inspecting her, sneering down in disgust, “Though I shouldn’t be surprised. Afterall, the two so commonly go hand in hand.”
“Please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m not a traitor please, I’m loyal, I am!” Ashley begged through gluts of tears.
“Of course you’re loyal, deep inside you are still the good little soldier I know you to be. We just need to cut away the degenerate to reveal him.” Vaila’s eyes flicked over toward someone standing behind Ashley, giving them a nod. She heard the clinking of tools from behind her.
“I am so sorry Daniel, I never should’ve entertained your perversion. I should’ve known it’d only grant the Regressionists a foothold in you. But, by the Barons' grace, they have given us a cure. Something to reverse the damage I foolishly let you do to yourself. Something to cure you.”

Ashley suddenly felt a needle slip into her neck. A cold chill spread through her veins, before abruptly erupting into fire. Her body convulsed as it swelled with muscle. Thick stubble burst from her chin. Her long blonde hair fell out in thick clumps. Fat squirmed about beneath her thickening skin like rats trapped beneath a tarp. She screamed out, only to hear in horror as her cries of anguish were dragged down deeper and deeper in pitch.

Vaila stepped closer, brandishing a knife, “It’s okay, my little soldier, it will all be okay. Through the brilliance of the Barons you’ve been given a second chance, Daniel. But unfortunately, even their inhuman genius has limits. Some parts of you must be, manually, removed.” She was now straddling the convulsing Ashley, “Please boy, stay still. My hand may be steady, but I still wouldn’t want to take more of you than I intend.” She took the blade, placing it beneath a breast, and began to slice.

Ashley woke up screaming, thick streams of tears running down her cheeks. She reached to her chest, a phantom pain lingering. She traced her fingers across her face but felt no change. She slowed her panicked breath and did her best to ground herself. Beyond the drapes of her cage she heard hoof on wood.
“Are you okay, what is wrong?” Asked Rena, still speaking in Ashley’s voice. Ashley replied with a shaky bawl. Rena asked in a quiet, tentative voice, “Would it be okay if I lifted the cover?”. For some reason, simply being asked if something would be okay for her made Ashley feel strange; surely it couldn’t be safety, not around that freak? She remained silent, apart from slowly quietening sobs. She was terrified that somehow, if the cover of her cage was lifted, Rena would somehow see how she was before. Rena took Ashley’s silence as a no.

A candle was lit just beyond the confines of her veiled cage. Rena sat just outside, her shadow visible as a silhouette against the deep red of the cover.
“A nightmare?” She asked. Ashley gave a small noise in affirmation. “Do you have them often?” Ashley didn’t respond. Not because she didn’t, she did, but because she didn’t want to give Rena the satisfaction of pitying her. She didn’t need her sympathy. Its sympathy. They sat in silence for a while, the thin red veil separating the two.

“You know I met a dream-maker once.” Rena mused, “They traveled all the way from Sophora. They told me they wished to see the Wildweald, to see its beauty so it could inspire their work. They told me nightmares were the worst dreams to make. That whenever they received a commission to make one, they are filled with scorn for themselves. They told me whenever they granted someone a nightmare, that they stayed with them, to make sure they got through it okay. Apparently it is a common practice amongst their kin. I think it is sweet of them. Perhaps you can be comforted by that knowledge. Even in your worst nightmares, you are being watched. Watched by an invisible, incomprehensible, dream entity, that just wants the best for you.”

Whilst Ashley was hardly comforted by the idea of these apparently benevolent nightmare spirits, she was so caught off-guard by that whole utterly bizarre monologue she actually found herself feeling better. Ashley couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it.
“Well, by tomorrow I will have absorbed your language and you will get your voice back. You can talk about it then, if you would like.”

The day passed and Rena kept her promise. Ashley’s voice had returned to her, somehow. She was still a little unclear how exactly it’d been taken from her in the first place. They had left the cottage earlier in the morning and were heading towards a large pond. Rena insisted Ashley needed to wash. She couldn’t disagree, she was covered in muck from the wilds. Rena led the way, her stubby tail contently swaying side to side as she walked, a pack full of soap on her back, and her shortbow dangling from her hip. The traveling was slow going, Ashley’s ankle still not having fully healed. She wondered then why Rena still insisted on keeping her on a leash, it wasn’t like she was going to run away? Rena kept the fact she thought it looked cute on her to herself.

“How come you still have not told me your name? It is rather unfriendly of you!” Rena asked, her true voice had a certain bounce to it, almost like she was half singing.
“It's corporate guard policy not to give information to your captors.” Ashley informed her.
“You were very forthcoming when I was giving you bread…”
“I was hungry!” She retorted, still embarrassed about the whole ordeal.
“Must I wait until you are hungry again to receive the answers to my questions?”
“Ha, didn’t expect you to be the sort to use starvation as a torture tactic to extract answers from me?” Ashley joked, “Perhaps you aren’t so different from the good men and women of the guard afterall.”
“No, what a horrible thing to do, I would never do this!” Rena seemed genuinely shocked at the idea, she stopped and turned to look back at Ashley, “I do not know how ‘good’ this guard is if they regularly do such things.”
Ashley did not appreciate Rena besmirching her comrades, “They do what they have to. The City is a violent place. A barbarian like you wouldn’t understand.”
“Barbaian! Says you, the most violent woman alive!” Rena’s patience was ready to snap, “So, were you simply ‘doing what you had to’ when you tried to shoot me? When you devastated so many innocent saplings?”
“Clearly I was. You did hunt me down and capture me afterall, or are you forgetting who’s wearing the fucking collar?” Ashley sighed, this was pointless, “I’m not going to debate morality with a psychotic goat-monster.”

Rena’s patience for Ashley had finally snapped. She had done nothing but show this stranger kindness, and all she got in return was insults and slurs. She turned back around and continued on, they were almost there anyway. She’d get her washed, then… She wasn’t sure. She certainly didn’t want to keep her around. But it wasn’t like she could just let her loose either. She’d just get hurt, or get someone else hurt.

Ashley noticed how dejected Rena looked. Her tail had stopped swaying, her step lacked the bounce it once had. She had been trying so hard to be friendly, her composure was so unwavering; it all seemed so fake, so unnatural. But her warmth wasn't artificial, if it had been she couldn’t have snuffed it out. Only now, seeing her upset and disheartened, Ashley considered if she was just as human as she was, if only a little different from herself.

“My name’s Ashley.” She admitted. Rena did not reply.

The pond sat within a wide clearing. A rocky wall of moss and slate leant over it, from which water spilt over the ridges lip and into the pond below forming a charming, albeit tiny, waterfall. Ashley was so taken in by the scenery she hadn’t noticed Rena remove what little clothing she wore.
“Oh fuck! By the Barrons’ Balls what the hell?” Exclaimed Ashley after finally noticing the naked goat-woman next to her.
“What, what is wrong?” Rena seemed genuinely confused as to the cause of Ashley’s distress.
“Your clothes, Rena, you're butt-ass naked!” Ashley said, eyes averted, trying very hard not to look.
“Yes… And?”
“Well, it’s just….” Ashley struggled to verbalise her discomfort, “It’s weird?”
Rena looked down at herself, her body didn’t seem particularly weird to her. But then again Ashley had made countless rude remarks about her appearance at this point, “Yes, I am aware. You have informed me that I am a freak, a chimera, a goat-monster, a whatever… Can we please get over this?”
“No, that’s not actually what I meant. This time, anyway…”
“Oh!” Rena was pleasantly surprised she wasn’t being insulted.
“Just, generally, back in The City, nudity was a taboo.”
“Wow!” Rena’s eyes went wide as she processed the implications, “So you have never been naked, never taken your clothes off? Gosh, I see, no wonder you smell like— ”
“No, no!” Ashley couldn’t help but find her misunderstanding endearing, “We just don’t take clothes off around others.”
“Right…” Rena was confused at this weirdly arbitrary rule Ashley’s people had, “Well, I want to have a swim, and you —really— need a bath. So I would advise you to ignore this rule. Because it is stupid, and it is weird.”

As Rena waited expectantly for her to remove her clothes Ashley had a horrible realisation. If she strips, she’s going to find out what she is — see what she is.
“So, are you just going to bathe clothed, or?”
“Uh, no, no…” Ashley’s heart was racing. Why was she just as terrified as when she was being hunted? She slowly unbuttoned her mud coated fatigues and unzipped her torn khaki pants. Trembling, she let her clothes fall off her. Rena gasped.
“I um, It’s, I am…” Ashley was humiliated. She scrambled to find a way to defend herself, and what she was.
“Your scars…” Rena said in quiet horror. Ashley’s fear flipped to confusion. Her scars, what was so special about her scars? “You call me half goat, but for all your scars you may well be half tiger…” Rena stepped closer, a finger tracing one particularly long red streak across her body, passing from her collarbone to breast. Ashley couldn’t help but blush.
“My… Scars? Yes, well, you strip any soldier of the corporate guard and you’ll find the same.” She looked down at her own body, something she tried to usually avoid. She did have a lot of scars she supposed, about a dozen and a half by last count, all of various sizes and shapes; some long streaks of burgundy, others bloody blotches stabbed into her side.

Ashley’s muscles tensed as Rena continued to investigate, and touch, her body. She seemed morbidly curious, and increasingly concerned.
“Where did these all come from?”
“A mix of training, combat — sometimes punishment.”
“Punishment?” Eyes wide with shock, “But, these scars are old, well healed. You though, you are not old at all… You were given these young.”
“That’s why the corporate guard are the best fighters in The City. We’re enlisted at a young age, this way we can have the experience of a veteran whilst still being in peak physical condition.” Ashley said, as if she were rattling off a speech at a recruitment rally.
“And how old were you when you were taken?”
“I was enlisted by my parents into the College of Corporate Cadets at the age of thirteen.” Ashley said with trained pride.
Rena finally stepped back. Though she was pleased Rena had seemingly missed the fact she had a cock, she was confused as to why she was so appalled by, what Ashley considered, a mark of her thorough training.
Rena once again looked at her with the sympathy Ashley so despised, “I am so sorry.”
“I don’t need sympathy.” Ashley snapped, “and I especially don’t need it from you.” Ashley marched into the pond and submerged herself into the water. She could feel Rena’s lingering gaze.

Ashley felt awful. But she didn’t know why. This whole week in hell (was this hell?) had been taxing, to say the least. The water around her was surprisingly warm. She could feel the knots in her muscles start to untangle, the dirt begin to flake off in brown clumps. But all this did little for her mind. Why was she so angry at Rena? She’d been nothing but kind to her. But that wasn’t true, was it. Her kindness was just another cage, an emotional shackle to stop her fighting back, trying to break free of the captivity she found herself in. But still, she had hurt Rena, it wasn’t all a ploy at least. This world was so strange. Rena was so strange. She was confused and she was scared.

Ashley looked for the soap, finding the pack containing it sat on a treestump a little ways from the pond itself. Much to her surprise, Rena’s bow and quiver also sat next to it. Ashley looked over toward Rena. She stood beneath the trickling waterfall, her wet brown hair let down, floating on the surface of the water. She was facing away, unawares. A tactical advantage, a chance at freedom, she had to take it.

She climbed out of the pool, Rena still blissfully bathing in the water. Ashley simply walked up to the bow, Rena must surely have been aware she had left the pond. Was this a trap? Ashley picked up the bow and withdrew an arrow from the quiver. She turned to see Rena still hadn’t noticed. She drew the arrow back and aimed her shot. She did not take it. Why didn’t she take the shot? She was right there, helpless, naked. Then, she turned around. At first Rena was shocked, but that quickly faded into disappointment. Of course Ashley was going to take every advantage at her disposal, even if she didn’t need to. She should’ve known.

Rena began to carefully wade toward Ashley. She still had her aim trained on her. She still had time to shoot, to end her captor, her biggest threat in this whole damned hellscape. Rena now stood waist high in the water. Some of her hair was tangled in her horns. Her skin glistened with water droplets. She saw the same look in her eyes that Ada had in the moments before she fired. She felt disgusted at herself that she could see a part of her in it. But she wasn’t an it, was she? She wasn’t even her enemy just as Ada wasn’t back in the train. She couldn’t take back the bullet she fired. But she could take back the arrow.

She dropped the arrow. The bow hung loosely from her hand. Rena ran up to her. Ashley looked away in shame, thin tears racing down her cheeks. Rena reached out, holding the hand grasping the bow.
“You did not shoot.” Rena asked in a near whisper.
“No, no I didn’t.”
“Why?”
“Taking a shot got me into this mess. It won’t get me out.”
“Considering your habit of violence has only caused issues, I would not disagree.” She said, slowly, gently, taking the bow from her, “Can I trust you?”
Ashley finally looked at Rena. She expected to see anger, perhaps the ever dreaded pity she so abhorred. But instead, she saw a hopeful smile, “Yeah, you can trust me.”

Chapter Text

The next day was awkward. Unsurprisingly so, given Ashley was one poor decision away from killing Rena. The day after that was a little less so, and by the third day the two were close to comfortable around each other. Ashley still struggled to fully understand Rena, but she could no longer see her as a monster to be feared and fought. Now no longer her adversary, Ashley wasn’t quite sure how to label their relationship. But friend was perhaps pushing it, at least for now.

Despite her sprained ankle Ashley insisted she be of some use, so much of her time was spent tending to the tremendously overgrown garden that sprawled out like a tangled carpet before the cottage. She was certainly not a gardener, but she did have a stubbornness to match that of the weeds, which had matted themselves deeply into the flowerbeds. But she wasn’t alone in her work; when Rena wasn’t in the woods, she was with Ashley. As they pulled, snipped, and trimmed she would regale Ashley with stories collected from the Tattle-Trees. For the most part Ashley would listen in silence, enjoying the musical quality of Rena’s voice, but when the stories bent towards more violent topics Ashley couldn’t help herself but chime in, chastising the inaccuracy of the combat techniques described.

Occasionally though Ashley would share a story of her own, tales of this strange city she’d come from. Rena hung on every word, though she barely understood any of it. The stories were short anecdotes, just snippets of her life before. She seemed hesitant to share. But it was enough to paint a bleak picture. A city choking on toxic fumes and drowning in the blood of its people. Rena did her level best to hide her steadily growing horror at Ashley’s ‘funny’ stories. She desperately wanted Ashley to feel comfortable. It’d been so long since anyone had visited Rena, now Ashley had stopped being such an asshole, she was comforting company. But her ankle was getting better by the day, and she had proven herself to be able to restrain her violent tendencies. Soon she’d be ready to leave, and Rena couldn’t think of an excuse to keep her.

The uncanny kaleidoscopic sun cut through the dark canopy in beams of dim saffron. Its light did little to aid Ashley in her search. How long had she been looking now—hours, days? Dirt was packed beneath her nails and her hands were wrapped in thin red scratches. As she searched deeper and deeper into the forest the shrubs and thickets only grew denser, as if conspiring to obscure the one object that would grant her any relief. For all she knew they actually could be conspiring. As her searching became more frantic, so too did it become more violent. Ashley tore through the forest like a wild beast on all fours, frantically clawing at the ground trying to unearth the missing bullet. Then her hands found something soft and cold.

Laying there beneath a thin cover of dirt was the still body of Ada. Her open eyes were dull, her keen mind no longer behind them. Feverishly, Ashley wiped away the dirt, excising Ada from the nature that was consuming her. Worms had made their home beneath her skin. Her body was still like a doll. Her chest was red. She stared down at the body. She still didn’t have what she sought. Gently, almost intimately, Ashley slipped her hand through the open wound. The body's ribs cracking and breaking to make room for Ashley's fist. She pushed further and further in, her arm now somehow, impossibly, elbow deep into the cold wetness of her guts. Then her fingers found something small and solid. With one final effort she wrenched the bullet from the body, its chest now a gored mess. A mad relief overwhelmed her. She rolled around next to the body, laughing with an unhinged giddiness. The bullet was clenched tightly in her first, and if she had the bullet she hadn’t killed Ada, she couldn’t have; She hadn’t, she hadn’t, she hadn’t!

Ashley jolted awake, tears running down the contours of her cheeks. Her heart was racing. She breathed deeply, calming herself the best she could. Strangely she found the confines of her bed-cage comforting, providing an odd sort of security. It also helped that Rena didn’t lock her in now either. She took one of the disgracefully plump pillows and squeezed tightly, letting her stress sink into the cushion. Once she regained her composure she opened the little gate of her cage and threw off the blanket draped overtop. The bedroom was quiet, silver moonlight spilled out across Rena’s empty bed; she must’ve been having difficulty sleeping too. Ashley couldn’t quite place why her absence bothered her. Deciding some fresh air would do her good, Ashley donned a hideously frilly nightgown Rena had lended her, and set off outside.

A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, carrying the scent of earth and oak throughout the small patch of forest that Rena called home. Her cottage was built with care, if not skill, and the garden—even after all this work—was still quite the mess. Past the whistling of the wind and whispering of the trees was the gentle sound of a flute. Her skin tingled with a strange warmth and her head was filled with a fuzzy static as the noise washed over her. Almost without noticing, her legs began to move. She wandered a little ways from the cottage, past the garden and between gnarled tree trunks, arriving at a clear glassy stream.

Sitting by the stream, sitting back against a listing tree and surrounded by a crowd of mesmerised critters, was Rena, playing some kind of flute. Ashley was entranced as she watched Rena slide the instrument across her lips, holding it delicately. She swayed her head gently to the music, her hair rippling in the moonlight. Her already otherworldly beauty seemed enhanced tenfold, Ashley couldn’t bear to look away. Then it stopped. The spell broken, the critters scurried away. A coy giggle snapped Ashley out of her stupor. Rena was looking at her, hand held over her mouth, though it did little to hide her bemused grin.

“What? What’s so funny?” Demanded Ashley, her awareness gradually returning.
“Oh just…” Rena responded through sporadic giggles, “I had no idea you were so vulnerable to enchantment…”
“Enchantment? Vulnerable!” Ashley was confused, and a little taken aback at her of all people being called ‘vulnerable’.
“Usually I am only able to enchant cute little critters. Gosh, if I had known you were so easily enthralled it would have made your capture a far simpler matter!”
“Um…” Ashley scrambled to change the subject, “Why are you up anyway?”
“It is not unusual for me to be awake at this hour. I sleep for a little while, potter about, and then return to slumber when I am ready.”
“Well, uh, if it works for you I guess?” This certainly went against the model Ashley had been taught, eight hours for sleep, sixteen for work. But then again Rena was hardly doing gruelling shifts in the steel mills.
“And, why are you awake?”
“Just couldn’t sleep.” Ashley put succinctly. It was embarrassing enough Rena saw her wake up screaming once, she hardly wanted to give her the impression it was a regular occurrence.
“You had a nightmare.” Rena corrected Ashley in a tone akin to a teacher correcting a student. Ashley simply gave a meek nod. No point in giving the details. Rena paused for a moment, thinking, before then offering “If you would like, perhaps you might want to try learning my pan-flute? I find playing it to be very calming.”

Soon Ashley was sitting beside Rena, pan-flute in hand. It consisted of a series of hollow wooden pipes of varying length, bundled together by patterned ribbons. Ashley brought it to her lips and gave an experimental blow. The discordant noise it produced was quickly buried beneath a flurry of cackles from Rena.
“No no no!” She laughed, “Not like that at all, here—” Before Ashley had the chance to react Rena was sitting directly behind her, her front pressed against her back, her head resting on her shoulder. Ashley couldn’t help but tense up, she was hardly used to this kind of closeness. “—let me show you.” Rena continued, gently grasping Ashley's hands. They were so soft, especially compared to her own calloused fingers. She hadn’t noticed before, but it seemed that Rena had even painted her fingernails with some sort of floral design. Ashley wished she could paint hers just like that.

As Rena guided Ashley she gradually began to relax into Rena’s arms. The uneasy touch turned to a comfortable embrace. She could smell the floral scent of her hair, feel her warmth on her back, hear the softness in her voice as she quietly guided her, and felt the firm grasp of her hands as she gently steered her own. A buzzing warmth climbed up her neck, her cheeks began to warm. Ashley at first thought it was some terrible allergic reaction to some bizarre fae plant. But she quickly came to the more dire truth. She was flustered. She surely couldn’t be attracted to Rena, could she? Sure she didn’t see her as some monstrous creature out to get her now, but going from that to being smitten was quite the leap. It must have been the enchantment, that was it! The effects of Rena’s strange melodic magic still hadn’t worn off. It was her spell that made her notice the small flecks of gold in her amber eyes and how the tip of her nose had gone ever so slightly red from the cold in the most adorable way. With difficulty she wrangled her attention back on the pan-flute.

They sat together for a long while. Ashley slowly came to grips with how to produce pleasant noises with the pan-flute rather than the odious whistling that had come before, though she was still some way from producing an actual melody.
Eventually Rena lightly sighed, whispering “You seem tired, do you wish to go back to sleep?”
Ashley hadn’t even noticed, but she was. Her eyes ached, and her limbs were heavy with fatigue, “No.”
“Why not?” After some time without an answer Rena supplied one herself, “You do not want more nightmares.”
“I’ve done plenty of twenty four hour shifts before.” Ashley shrugged, “I’ll be fine. If I just get myself tired enough I probably won’t have any dreams at all.”
“I am uncertain if that is how it works, Ashley.” She said, giving a sympathetic half-chuckle, “Besides, I might have a solution for you.”
“I’m all ears.”
“You are free to refuse, this is a suggestion, not a prescription.” Rena explained tentatively, “When I first captured you, I used a toxin to sedate you. It places the victim into a deep, and most importantly, dreamless sleep. If you would like I could administer—”
“Do it.” Ashley asked, she was far too tired to care if this was a good idea or not, “Then, once I’ve finally had a rest, can we go back to the trainwreck? I left something behind, I need to find it. I think maybe if I do, I might sleep better.”
“Of course, it would be good for you to leave the confines of the cottage anyway.” She said as she reached over toward the small leather pouch beside the two, from which she retrieved a dart. Rena gently pulled Ashley's hair back to reveal her neck. “You are sure of this?” Rena asked, Ashley nodded.

She felt the fine tip of the dart slip beneath her skin. This time, without the gallons of adrenaline storming through her body, she could feel the more subtle effects of the toxin. How the cold of the air was sharpened, and the warmth of Rena’s body on hers heightened. How her muscles twitched slightly only to then fall slack, relaxing into the comfortable numbness that was spreading throughout her. Rena put Ashley down, letting her head rest on the fleecy fur of her thighs. To Ashley it may as well have been a velvet pillow. Her eyes wandered, only vaguely steered by her faltering mind. Fireflies drew amber streams of flame that lingered in the air and starlight dripped down from the sky like rain. As soon as her eyes happened upon Rena however, the rest of the world washed away. The colour of her hair melted out into the air, waving about like tawny flames. Her horns spiralled up like great onyx pillars, merging into the night sky above. Her freckles seemed to waft about her cheeks like dust caught in a light breeze. The amber of her irises had completely flooded her eyes, turning them into two glorious twin suns, their golden light enveloping Ashley in an illusionary warmth.

Soon even her senses melted together, touch, taste, sight and sound all indistinguishable from each other. The distant awareness of Rena’s presence prevented the disorientation from shifting to panic. Although she didn’t understand Rena, she was able to trust her, despite her inhuman nature, or perhaps even because of it; humans had always treated her with carelessness at best and cruelly at worst. Still however, she felt uneasy, surely it was only a matter of time before the other shoe would drop and Rena would reveal her true, wicked, nature. Nothing was ever free, especially kindness. Fortunately those familiar anxieties struggled to take hold tonight, as her awareness began to swiftly slip away. If Ashley focused, she might have even been aware of Rena gently stroking her hair, just before she succumbed to dreamless sleep.

As she had promised, Rena brought Ashley back to the ‘trainwreck’, not that she had any clue what a train was. Presumably that massive metallic carcass beached on the shore. It had wheels, but she could hardly imagine any sort of beast pulling a cart (or even a chain of carts!) such as that. If only the iron-curse didn’t make it burn to the touch; a trove of otherworldly secrets sat right there before her—inaccessible. Ashley on the other hand hardly hurt to handle. In fact she very much enjoyed touching her, she admitted to herself. But as far as her secrets were concerned she was equally inaccessible as that steel wreck. She’d only divulged a smattering of her past, and even those stories felt as reliable as the ones told by the tattle-trees. Not that she believed she was lying, per-se, but certainly withholding. Come to think of it, it occurred to her she still didn’t even know what kind of creature Ashley was!

“Ashley, I have been meaning to ask you a question.” Rena sidled up to her as they began their search for the bullet, Ashley gave a small nod for Rena to continue, her attention bound tightly to the task at hand, “What exactly are you?”
With that question Ashley’s stomach dropped like a stone, her focus now torn away. Her heart fluttered. Of course she was stupid to think Rena hadn’t noticed her fucking cock back at the pond. How was she supposed to explain this, what was she even supposed to say?
“I’m sorry!” She sputtered out without even really thinking, “I, uh, wasn’t born like this, I um...”
Rena was at a complete loss as to the cause of her sudden and unexplained panic, “Ashley, it is okay,” she said, placing a hand on her shoulder, hoping to calm her, “you do not need to speak of anything if it hurts you. I was simply curious, but I would never wish my noseyness to cause you pain.”
“Thanks, but are you sure? Usually people have a lot of questions.”
What an odd thing to say Rena thought, ‘usually people have a lot of questions.’ Was she somehow a queer creature even amongst the people of her own city?
“I am sure.” Rena assured her, “I will only listen if you want to talk.”
“Hah, after a couple of drinks maybe?” She chuckled.
“An evening of sipping on wine and listening to you talk sounds enchanting.” Rena said, smiling down to her companion who was still sitting amongst the weeds, absent mindedly searching. It was hard to tell in the dim light, but was she blushing?

Despite that somewhat awkward conversation, Ashley had been welcome company—even if she had tried to kill her once or twice. But still, any company was good company; she hadn’t spoken to anyone outside the tattle-trees (and Opal) for many months. There was a part of Rena who feared she was being overly friendly, that her overbearing kindness came from a selfish need to not be alone. Ashley was in a vulnerable place: both physically being unaccustomed to life in the Wildweald, and clearly working through some complicated emotions. Rena couldn’t tell if she wanted to keep Ashley close because of her dire loneliness, or a genuine desire to care for her. Perhaps it was both.

She decided the best way to deal with these feelings was to ignore them and focus on today’s job: finding this bullet. Ashley had neglected to explain exactly why she was so desperate to find this particular bullet, but then again she was a very strange woman. Besides, if finding it helps her, then find it she shall. That being said, it was clear Ashley’s approach was an awful one. Apparently she had searched for a day or two already with little luck. Instead Rena decided to cash in a favour she had with a couple of magpies who eagerly leapt at the chance to hunt down something shiny, and with a little persuasion even the foliage was willing to bend their branches aside to reveal the secrets hidden amongst their roots.

Daylight faded little by little as the fractal sun folded in on itself and the grinning face of the moon began to peak over the horizon. Each passing hour Rena saw Ashley grow more and more anxious. Her search transitioned from a systematic sweep to madly pacing across the beach with her gaze darting about the ground. Even with all this time and all this help, they had found nothing.
“It’s here, it has to be fucking here, right?” Ashley asked no one in particular.
Rena by this point was becoming increasingly concerned, “Ashley, I do not understand, why is it so important you find this bullet?”
“Because—It just is, okay.” Ashley replied unhelpfully.
“I just think it may be time to think about what happens if we do not find it.” Rena figured that if it was here they surely would’ve found it by now..
“If we don’t find it then, I don’t know, I don’t fucking know!” Ashley collapsed to the ground, sitting on the pebbles of the beach looking out toward the smiling moon. Rena joined her. They sat in silence for a little while, letting the light gently drain from the world.

Ashley sighed, as if conceding defeat, “Do you remember, back at the pond, what I said when you asked why I didn’t take the shot?”
“You said taking a shot got you into this mess in the first place.” Rena recalled.
“I shot my best friend.” Ashley admitted, “My only friend. Ada.” Even saying her name hurt.
“I see.” Rena didn’t think asking why she did it would be particularly helpful right now, better she let Ashley set the pace of the conversation.
“As I pulled the trigger someone held up a kind of mirror or something. It created a portal, severing the train in two and throwing me into this place. I thought maybe it had formed quickly enough to shield her, but…”
“Maybe you missed?”
“Rena, I was raised since childhood to be a weapon of the state. I didn’t miss.”
“Maybe she survived?”
“That’s possible.” Ashley admitted, “Unlikely, but possible. But even if she did, she is going to be in a lot of pain for a long time. I don’t want that to be my parting gift to her.”
Rena was silent, what was she supposed to say? She could see the guilt and loneliness in Ashley’s eyes. She had severed the one connection she had, and now was left with nothing. She knew the pain of being alone, isolated. If she couldn’t soothe that pain in herself, how was she supposed to do so in Ashley?
After a drawn out quiet Rena spoke again, “You did not shoot me.”
“No. If I’m honest I hated myself for that. How come I shot my only friend, but not you?”
“The world you came from demanded violence from you. That is the language you learnt. So in that moment you could see no other choice. But now you are here, and have begun to learn this world's language, you can see new choices, choices you wish you had made.” Rena’s eyes left the dark horizon to meet Ashley’s, “To change, to embody a better version of yourself, is not weak, it is the strongest—most vital thing—a person can do.”
“Burn the past to fuel the future.” Ashley quoted under her breath, “I cannot let the mistakes of my past impede my progress.”
“The only question that is left is what this ‘progress’ looks like to you.”
“I… I don’t know?” Ashley had no idea what she wanted to become. All her life she knew she wanted to become a captain, and a woman. But the structure of the guard and laws of the city had confined her ambitions. What could she become without those restrictions? What should she become?
“Your friend lives.” Rena said standing up, reaching a hand down to Ashley, “If she is half as stubborn as you, she lives.”
“Hah, doubly so.” Ashley said, taking her hand and adding with unfiltered admiration, “She was— is incredible.”
“Then she will doubtlessly have the strength to understand, and to forgive you.”
“I hope.” Ashley said, looking away. The urge to grapple Ashley into a massive hug finally became too much to bear as Rena grappled her into a crushing squeeze.
“Come, let us sleep. Then perhaps tomorrow evening we can have that drink you spoke of?”

The two walked off, back into the woods. Ashley’s head felt like it would burst at any second, so much had happened in such little time. She regretted what she had done, that was the first step to being better. But still, guilt and uncertainty lingered, the bullet still sat just in the back of her mind. She just hoped Ada was okay.

Ada howled in wild agony as she desperately tried to stymie the endless flow of red that drained from her belly. Her skin went cold. Her vision flattened. She found herself laying flat on the cold steel of the train. Hands tended to her, panicked voices barked orders only half audible to her fading mind. It went black.

Much to her shock, she woke up, albeit to an intense burning pain. A small cabin turned miniature infirmary was stuffed full of old medical equipment and an even older doctor. His demeanor was cold, but his work was commendable. It wasn’t long before Ada was discharged, freeing up valuable bed space. Still for the time being wheelchair bound, she found herself in a completely unfamiliar place. She was aboard an aerostat by the name of ‘The Sanctum’, that much she was told by her doctor. Beyond that she was told little. Thankfully the ship's corridors were ramped, though more for the convenience of cargo than people. She was assigned a bunk in the crew quarters, and left to her own devices. From the small portholes she could see only smog. She was back in the city at least.

The cold shoulder she had received from her doctor continued to be a pattern over the next couple of days. She was barred from entering certain parts of the ship, left to eat alone, even in the cramped space of the canteen. She was never a social butterfly, but this was more than just a failure to be friendly. Eventually over the course of a few overheard conversations and awkward encounters she discovered the source of her isolation. She was dead weight, she wasn’t a ‘true’ revolutionary and most importantly of all, she was a cop. She could hardly blame them, she had seen first hand the casual brutality the Corporate Guard were capable of. Who was she to demand immediate forgiveness? Patience perhaps was the best strategy. But despite understanding their reasoning, it still hurt. She was stuck in pain, stuck in a wheelchair, and stuck isolated in an airship filled with strangers.

As she was still recovering from her wound, and wasn’t even officially part of the crew, so possibly for the first time in her life she had no duties to speak of. With all the time in the world, and no friends to spend it with, she instead found solace in books. The vessel had a ‘library’, if you could call it that. Nothing more than a broom closet filled with old tomes. Yet these books weren’t anything like what she had read before, these were history books, banned under the authority of the Barons. She’d seen them of course, during raids on Regressionist storehouses—though perhaps it was unwise to use the word Regressionist anymore—but she never dared take a glance inside. Now however, history was finally open to her.

She learnt of a time before The City, before the world died. Of thriving kingdoms and nations, of ways of life outside endless industry and ‘progress.’ She knew logically such ways of life were possible, but to read about them, to know what was taken from them, it was deeply sad in a way Ada wasn’t quite ready for. She always knew what she wanted to fight against, but now she knew what she wanted to fight for as well. If only her comrades could see she had the same passion as them.

Then, rather unexpectedly, a scrawny crewman informed Ada that the captain had invited them to their study. She’d barely heard about the captain since her arrival, only that since they’d returned they had hardly left their study. For the first time in days someone actually wanted to speak to her, she was not going to pass up on the offer.

The captain's study was not quite what she was expecting. It was tidy and well organised, that was something she could appreciate. What confused her however was the shelf stacked with dozens of pickled body parts of various fauna just behind their desk, each jar carefully labeled. Adding to the eccentricity of the room was the incense that filled the little office with thick floral smoke. Partially obscured by the vapour was, presumably, the captain. Their gender was supremely ambiguous. Their stark black hair cut off just above shoulder height, their round features framed by two thin braids sitting either side of their face. They wore what appeared to be a standard—albeit heavily customised—black factory jumpsuit that was a couple sizes too big for them, fastened to their body by a couple tactically placed belts that provided a convenient place to perch their array of trinkets and baubles.

“Captain Calaway, a pleasure to finally meet you Ada. I apologise it took so long, I’ve been rather busy tending to the artefact you helped secure.” They smiled, extending their hand to shake hers. Their voice hardly provided any more clues to their gender. It did however exhibit the coarseness associated with breathing in dangerous quantities of factory smog that was common amongst the lowest caste of workers.
Taking their hand they awkwardly stuttered out, “It’s likewise a pleasure, Ma’— Sir, uh…” As previously stated, Ada was not much of a social butterfly. The Captain hardly seemed insulted at her confusion however, only giggling knowingly like they knew a secret she didn’t.
“So, how has The Sanctum been treating you?”
“Like shit.” Ada was not one to soften the truth.
“Oh?” The Captain seemed genuinely concerned, “How so?”
“A few things. Though it’s primarily because I’m a cop.”
“Were a cop.” Captain Calaway corrected, “You turned your back on them, took a bullet for the cause, and provided us with a most invaluable asset.”
“Well… I’m glad someone sees it that way at the very least.”
“Don’t worry. They will understand soon the gift you’ve given the revolution.”
“Right, about that. I was meaning to ask what exactly it was that I retrieved. I thought it was some kind of device, but what I saw on the train… I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”
“Ah, and that is just why I summoned you here!” Ada picked up on a hint of excitement in their voice, “I have been told you’ve visited the library a couple of times. You are the bookish type then?”
“I suppose so? Never really had the chance to be the bookish type before.”
“Good. Then I shall give you your first order as your new captain…” They said withdrawing a thin book from their desk drawer and sliding it over. Ada picked it up and inspected it curiously.
“An old illustrated fairytale book… For children…”
“Yep.” Confirmed Calaway with a coy grin, “Just give it a read tonight, then tomorrow we shall discuss its contents. Think of it as our very own little book club, eh?”
“Sure thing, I guess?” Ada was more than a little confused. They were the friendliest person on the ship, but they hardly seemed the sort to be the captain of a revolutionary aerostat. Then again, she’d hardly met many captains of revolutionary aerostat’s before, maybe they were all like this. No, actually, probably not.

Just as Ada was about to leave the Captain made a sudden startled noise, “Oh, I almost forgot!” They withdrew a necklace out of one of their numerous pockets, “I made this, for you. A little welcoming gift.” Dangling from the steel chain was a bullet. It seems it had been given a coat of varnish to preserve the blood still stained on its bronze coating. “A symbol of your sacrifice for a greater cause. Perhaps wearing this will help remind my crew you’ve earned your way aboard, just as they all did.”

Ada took the necklace, placing the bullet in her palm, softly touching the still stinging wound in her belly. She had been trying not to think about it, about Ashley shooting her, about the fury she saw in her eyes the moment she pulled the trigger. She still didn’t understand what happened on that train, or what became of Ashley. But she hoped, wherever she is now, she could understand why she had to leave her.

Chapter Text

The rhythmic ticking noise of the electric motor filled the cablecar, alongside the strange and overstimulating scent of the various perfumes worn by the noble women coallessing together. Commander Vaila was not contributing to the distastefully synthetic aroma, it wasn’t befitting of her station.

She stood by the smoke-stained window, fidgeting with her ever-so too tight dress uniform. She looked down into the black ravines beneath the city, the Soot-Sump, even after so long its toxic fumes still lingered in her lungs. Then her eyes climbed the endless layers of the Stacks, the seven brilliant towers of steel that housed the last of humanity, the last that mattered anyway. They were monuments to industry, to progress. Each was a titanic tower of brick and steel, silhouetted by the burnt orange of the horizon. Each one housed the better part of a million souls, a million hungry mouths, a million potential dissidents to tame. How many precincts just like hers were there? Even she didn’t know the exact answer. Despite how far she had risen since her days in the Sump, she felt so small. How could you not when faced with the sheer scale of the city the Barons had built?

The cablecar ticked along, swaying ever so slightly side to side in the cinder-winds that rushed between the towers. She sipped on sparkly sweet wine, made of real grapes no less, and politely mingled amongst the nobles as if she were one of them, despite the frequent reminders she was not. Though she hardly had the mental capacity to register their jibes and jabs, it wasn’t their judgment she feared, but instead the Baron’s.

The train had been hijacked, cut in two no less, and three of her subordinates had gone missing, presumably killed. All that was dwarfed however by the fact she had lost the Baron's device. They did not tolerate failures such as these. Yet she had heard nothing from any of them. They had heard of her failure by now, they must have. Perhaps they were simply enjoying her dread? She had tasted their punishment before, swift and cold like the sharp sting of a sabre. They knew things you see, the precious things a person holds close to their heart. They take cruel joy in turning love and warmth into implements of torture. She still remembered last time, how each word it spoke seeped into her like an oil stain.

“It’s okay.” It said, “You needn’t fear our wrath ever again.” The cold of its claw wrapped about her shoulder in a mimicry of comfort, “For you shan't fail a second time."
“No. No I won’t.” She stuttered out.
“Good, you're telling the truth.” It said with satisfaction, now appearing in front of her. Vaila’s eyes were fixed to the floor where its pitch-tinged robes pooled on the ground. She couldn’t bear to look up into the hollow black pit of its face, “Do you understand why I know you to be truthful?” Vaila shook her head, her tearful eyes still averted, “Because it is clear you understand the truth. You cannot afford to fail again.”

The heavy clunk of the cablecar docking with the skyport snapped Vaila back to the present. A flock of tipsy nobles—and more importantly, their fat purses—disembarked, quickly disbursing amongst the verdant forest of the arboretum that hosted the oh-so famous ‘Pageant of Progress’. It took Vaila a moment to adjust to the sheer quantity of greenery that the Tinsmith estate boasted. Despite how many times she had visited, it always stunned her. That was the point she supposed. For these people wealth was a weapon, one best used to intimidate, and intimidate this place did, even for her. Little clockwork birds darted from branch to branch, beneath which a stream slipped between mossy rocks and beneath quaint little bridges, at no doubt great expense to the estate. Even the sunlight was tinged by an emerald hue by the grand greenhouse that encompassed the park.

Though today was not a celebration of nature, or at least the artificial facsimile of such, but instead for quite the opposite—technology. Stalls had been set up by various inventors, entrepreneurs and visionaries, each boasting an array of cutting edge gizmos and gadgets. The nobles bounced between the displays like overexcited children at a toy shop, equally excited in the latest and greatest in plumbing, as well as weapons of war. It was the latter that brought Vaila here, amongst other things, but that would come later.

Armour, grenades and gatling guns galore; the pageant had no shortage of weapons to browse. In truth though she often found the fancy new-fangled stuff to be impractical. A fancy toy to intimidate protestors perhaps, but hardly practical in countering more serious threats. Still, she couldn’t deny it was amusing to see various fruits getting obliterated by lighting with concerning enthusiasm by a crazed old man, or watch an overly egotistical aviator nearly crash into a tree whilst demonstrating the safety of his backmounted wing-pack.

“Evelyn, there you are!” Waved a familiar woman, her bushy ginger hair bouncing with each enthusiastic step she took toward her, a throng of sycophantic investors trailing behind her, “This is Evelyn Vaila, commander of the 71st midlevel precinct over in Reddington.” She explained to the ambient crowd that formed naturally around her, “And I must say, should you ever need a strike broken or a union busted, I could not recommend you hire her precinct enough!”
“You flatter me Elizibeth. What can I say, the men and women of the 71st make it what it is, and I make them what they are. A firm hand and a tight chain of command is key, that’s all that’s really needed.”
“And a stomach for violence.” Elizibeth teased.
“Yes, well, if the language of the state is violence, I am its mouth.”
“Gosh, a poet and a warrior, a woman of many talents.” She said with barely hidden admiration, nearly forgetting about her accompaniment, “I have some business to attend to my dear friends, though don’t think you’ve escaped me for today just yet!” The various nobles gave a polite chuckle before quickly becoming distracted by some new and shiny toy.

The two snuck away into the depths of the arboretum beyond the heaving crowds, before both collapsed onto a memorial bench sitting beside a trickling stream.
“Fuck me…” Elizabeth gave out a lengthy sigh, her head resting against Evelyn’s arm, not being tall enough to place it on her shoulder, much to Evelyn’s amusement.
“Later.” Shot back Evelyn.
“Commander Vaila, you take me for some common hussy? I will have you know I am the heiress to the Tinsmith estate, and head innovator of the pageant, I could have you kicked out for such a crude and uncouth remark!” She said, smacking her hand to her chest in feigned offence, “But yes later…” She amended with haste before changing the subject with equal speed, “Enjoying the pageant?”
“I am now.” She smiled, “Seeing you, it’s nice. I’m sorry I don’t get up here more often.”
“It’s fine Lyn, I know work keeps you busy. Besides, people would probably get suspicious. Two unmarried women of our age becoming too friendly is bound to raise some eyebrows.”
“Well they can suck my fat fucking cock for all I care.”
“Hah, you’d need to grow one first.”
“Can’t you just build me one, miss inventor extraordinaire?”
“I know for a fact you have a strap-on. What more do you want?”
“I dunno... One that cums or something?” They both laughed, relaxing into one another, “C’mon, don’t tell me you wouldn’t be into that! You're the ‘head innovator’, innovate!”
“I um, have, actually…” She said, blushing a little, “I was messing around with some stuff, and uh…”
“You’re fucking your machines now Liz?” She asked, an eyebrow raised.
“Well, no, um… Yes, kinda.” She admitted.
“Wow…” Evelyn scoffed, “Maybe I do need to come up here more if this is what you're resorting to.”
“Hey don’t judge! Besides, I think once you try it you’ll agree it’s uh… Good.”
“It’s good, huh? I bet I can still fuck you better than your silly little machine.” Evelyn said, now leaning over Liz. She always found it adorable how wide her eyes went when she did that.
“Uhm, I guess we could…” She gulped, “I still have a pageant to run. Have a wander about, rub some elbows or whatever. Then when things wind down come up to my workshop, then maybe we could see how that bet works out…”

Evelyn couldn’t really focus on the pageant after that conversation. Occasionally she saw Elizibeth in the distance, entertaining her guests and tending to the various egos of the inventors. Her smile was well practiced but phoney, she knew well how her face lit up when she really meant a smile. The sun began to fade and the various machines on display were packed away. The acid rain began to fall, reverberating against the glass of the greenhouse, filling the air with a pleasantly soft murmur. Evelyn took her usual route around the back of the manor through the overgrown paths of the private garden. Best not to be seen after all, neither of them would benefit from any rumours.

She arrived in Liz’s eclectic workshop. Bronze, steel and brass lined the walls, ironically the heiress of the Tinsmith estate did not in fact work with any tin. Liz had changed from her ornate party dress to a weathered jumpsuit that was far more fitting for the clutter of her workshop. Besides, Evelyn thought she looked better in it, especially with how it clung to her figure. Liz fiddled with her hands not quite knowing what to do with them, Evelyn took them in hers, stilling them.
“So?” She asked.
“Right, right!” She said, eyes flitting around. It was adorable how even after all these years she still got so nervous around her. Liz rushed over to a workbench, withdrawing a small copper rod adorned with a dial and capped with some kind of rubbery dome.
“That is one weird looking dildo.”
Liz chuckled, “It’s not a dildo, it doesn’t go in you.”
“So what’s it do then?”
“This.” Liz twisted the dial over a notch, the rubber end of the rod began to vibrate.
“Um, cool?” A moment of silence passed, “Sorry I don’t quite understand.”
“Just take your damn pants off, Lyn.”

That suggestion was something Evelyn could get behind. She hurriedly unbuttoned her pants, slipping her trousers and undergarments off, still leaving the classy jacket of her dress uniform on. Liz positioned Evelyn to sit atop one of the few workbenches not littered with detritus, before pulling her legs apart.
“I still don’t get how a vibra—” Evelyn was cut off as Liz brushed the vibrator between her spread thighs, “Oh, wow, um, okay that’s not quite what I expected…” The gentle vibration caused small shocks of tingling pleasure to run across her skin.
“Not what I expected either haha,” Liv said, massaging the vibrator gently in Evelyn, “It was supposed to be a medical device, for muscle pains and the like—but idle curiosity got the better of me and…”
“Right, well…” Evelyn grasped the edge of the table tightly as Liz turned the small steel dial up a notch, “Fuck, this is weird. Good but weird. I uh…” As the vibrations got more and more intense Evelyn lost more and more of her composure. She could see the satisfied look in Liz’s eyes as she watched Evelyn slowly melt on the table before her. She could let herself succumb to Liz’s weird new gadget, she’d certainly enjoy herself. But she wasn’t the sort to let someone else take charge.

With one hand she grasped Liz’s wrist, yanking it and the vibrator away from her, then with the other she grabbed the zip of her jumpsuit and pulled down. Clearly Liz was prepared for this, as she had no bra to speak of underneath. The dynamic had completely flipped. Her tits exposed and her wrists held tightly was all it took to make her a deer in headlights. Liz loved to pretend to be in charge, but as soon as Evelyn used even a pinch of force she became adorably submissive.

Evelyn took great pleasure in slowly slipping the jumpsuit off her, taking her time to kiss and caress each new exposed part of her, until finally she stood naked. Evelyn took a breast in one hand, her thumb tracing its contours, briefly pausing as it grazed a black sigil on her sternum. A brand left by the barons over her heart, one placed on all of noble lineage, marking her as loyal solely to them. She felt the same creeping dread she had been trying to escape crawl up her spine. Fortunately she had the perfect distraction right in front of her. She grabbed Liz by the waist and pulled her in, her mouth descending upon her chest, sucking, biting and pulling, each eliciting a chorus of the most adorable moans.

After Evelyn was satisfied with all the pretty bruises she’d marked Liz’s tits with, she hoisted her up onto her lap, lifting her weight with shocking ease. Taking a fist full of Liz’s hair, the two began to kiss. Thin strings of saliva strung out between the two as they drew apart for breath, only for them to quickly collide together again.

Evelyn groped around for the virbator, barely able to pull any of her attention away from Liz. Finally she found it. Gently, she slipped it between the both of them, so that the rubber head of the wand rested between both their crotches. Then, with characteristic brashness, she cranked the dial up. Almost immediately Liz collapsed into Evelyn. She herself wasn’t doing much better, her free hand clawing across Liz’s back. The two panted and moaned, needily grinding against each other, as they edged closer and closer to climax.

Then Liz stopped. Her body went still. Evelyn quickly went from confused to concerned as she felt her skin rapidly heat up against hers to an almost uncomfortable degree.
“Liz, Liz are you okay?” She said, pulling Liz’s head off her shoulder, only to find her eyes filled with an inky blackness.
“She’ll be just fine, Commander. I’d be more concerned with your own self preservation at this juncture.” She spoke without moving her mouth, her face was blank like a doll's. Instead the cold reptilian voice echoed from her chest. There, where once the Baron's sigil was, was now a void; an abyssal hole bored impossibly deep into her chest from which oil seeped, running down her stomach and across her thighs.

Evelyn, in a moment of pure animal panic, tried to push them off herself. They hardly budged. Again she tried, with all her force. Again, it didn’t work.
“Now now Commander, I thought you of all people would appreciate the importance of the chain of command. Or do you not recognise who I am? An understandable mistake given this guise, I suppose.”
Still pinned beneath them, Evelyn managed to briefly claw back her voice from the fear that had seized it, “A Barron, you’re a fucking Barron.” Not that she knew its name, no Baron has ever given themselves one, they enjoyed the confusion it creates.
“Your liege…”
“What?”
“You forget yourself,” it said, grabbing Evelyn by the neck and smashing her down onto the workbench with inhuman force, “I am your liege."
If not for its grip throttling any words that might’ve left her mouth, she would’ve given it what it wanted and called it her liege, she was almost glad she couldn’t.

Seeing that Evlyn had gone pale, it withdrew its hand, giving her a chance to gasp for breath.
“I knew I’d likely find you with Elizibeth, but I must say I am taken aback to find you two like this…” It said, crawling overtop Evelyn, hot oil dripping from the black cavity and spilling out across her, “You hid it well, this little dalliance of yours. Of course you did, you know well the punishment of non-reproductive acts such as these. Haven’t you even enforced that law yourself?”
Evelyn only replied by screaming, arms grasping around for anything, absolutely anything to defend herself.
“I’m sure you are well aware of why I’m here. I won’t go over the particulars of the transgression, but suffice it to say, we are not happy.”
Finally her fingers found an errant screwdriver. She took it, swinging it up to its neck, only to stop short of piercing the skin. The point hovered just above an artery. She’s killed people like this before. But violence couldn’t get her out of this. She couldn’t kill it without killing Elizibeth. In reality it probably wouldn’t even harm the Baron at all anyway. It knew she couldn’t hurt it. She relented, dropping the screwdriver, letting her arm fall uselessly to the table.

“Ha, so feisty! I suppose we do make you that way for a reason. Humans are so malleable that way, their minds can be engineered just as easily as engines. You are fascinating creatures, truly. I mean look, look!” It said, holding a hand up to the hole within Elizibeth, as if the pit in her chest was some hollow cyclopean eye, “Five fingers, how extravagant! Now do tell me, how many of them am I supposed to put into you again?”
Her heart dropped, “What?” Evelyn asked in a shaky voice.
“Well, you were in the middle of something. It’s a bit of a compulsion of my kind, you see; we hate to leave a task unfinished." Evelyn’s words failed her, what was she supposed to say, what was she supposed to do? Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the face of her love who now stared blankly down at her. Seemingly utterly oblivious—or perhaps simply uncaring—to Evelyn's distress, the Baron continued, “No hints? Very well, I shall puzzle it out.”

Then without warning it brutishly shoved three of its fingers into her and clawed around. Evelyn wailed out in pain, raking at Elizabeth's arms, drawing out thin lines of boiling black blood.
“I will admit, I’ve always been curious about this aspect of your kind, and I find there is no better education than a hands-on experience. If it should help, you may think of this as part of the repayment for your failure.” It continued to probe Evelyn, taking cold curiosity at each shriek and shudder its touch elicited. Then, much to Evelyn’s horror, it found the clit. It didn’t so much delicately stroke it, but instead mash it. Pain and overstimulation overtook Evelyn as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“Oh, a scream! That is a good thing, yes?” It asked with earnest interest, “I heard you were supposed to produce some sort of noise during copulation. Was it screaming or laughing? I’m certain it was one of those.” Evelyn could hardly respond at this point, having completely given up trying to resist the demon that had seized her partner's body. Unfortunately it took her lack of an answer as a response, “Ah, perhaps more stimulation is required?” It said, ripping apart her jacket one handed as if it were nothing more than paper, and then digging its nails deeply enough into her breast as to draw blood.

She could see Elizabeth's veins now turned black with the alien bile of the Baron pumped through her. How that same substance poured out from the yawning black chamber where Elizibeths heart should be. She saw how her loves eyes were clouded with oil, how even the saliva that dripped from her slack mouth was tinged with the same inky black that had violated every cell in her body. The Barons took cruel joy in turning love and warmth into implements of torture. She didn’t care what they did to herself, but she would fucking die before she let them do that to her wife. Anger shredded its way through the pane of fear that separated her mind from her body. Her limbs roared back to life, her heart beat with a newfound resolve.

She thrust her arm up on instinct, hand plunging deep into the void within Elizibeths chest. The oil within was scolding hot. Violent currents wrapped about her arm, pulling her in. The Baron did not hesitate in its response. Its hands snapped to her forearm, trying to unsheath her hand from the abyss within Elizabeth. With its unnatural strength it would easily be able to do so, but Evelyn would not let this happen. With her other arm she wrapped Elizibeth into a hug, drawing her in with all her strength. With its hands wrapped like a vice around her wrist it was unable to support itself atop the workbench. The two collided together. With one hand Evelyn held Elizibeth close, whilst the other was now shoulder deep into the scorching abyss within her wife.

She felt something! Scaled and rough, it writhed and bit—or rather nipped; it had hardly the strength to resist her as she grasped it tightly in her first. Then she pulled. The black currents of the odd ocean resisted her, but it was far too late, she was going to murder this thing. She flipped herself and Elizibeth over. She saw her eyes had begun to clear. With one final scream she tore the creature from Elizibeths heart, before popping it in her fist like an oil filled balloon, scattering hot black gore across the workshop.

She knelt there over Elizabeth, heart still hammering, lungs still heaving, mind still racing. Then, slowly, the dread of what she had done rolled over her like a thick fog. She had just killed a Baron. The real body of a Baron no less, not just some shell. She had just thrown her life away. But when she looked down at Elizabeth, the void over her heart now sealed, she knew it was worth it.

But this wasn’t the end, it couldn’t be. Elizabeth was of noble blood. As long as there were Barons, they could possess her through her mark. She couldn’t let them do that again, not ever.

They all had to go.

But she and Elizibeth couldn’t do it alone, and despite her hatred for them, there was only one group who shared their cause, the Regressionists.

Chapter Text

A smoghorn blared as the distant red hazard lights of a passing aerostat filtered through The Sanctum's portholes. It was late in the evening, everyone but the nightcrew was preparing for bed, everyone except for Ada. The captain of all people had called her up to their office so they could personally hand her a children's book of all things. That was far too interesting to leave until morning.

Ada wheeled herself through the tight corridors of the aerostat, catching suspicious glances along the way, until finally arriving at the cupboard generously referred to as a library. She slotted herself into the cramped space, the scent of books smothering her like a musty blanket. Litting a dim gaslamp she placed the storybook on the desk.

It was titled… What was it titled? Whatever language this was written in, it wasn’t city-speak. It seemed she’d be forced to rely on the illustrations to understand the story. The cover depicted a mirror, reflecting various fantastical landscapes, with something black and viscous dripping down from behind the mirrorframe. Opening the book up revealed the pages to be thick and rigid, made of thin plates of wood, upon which were rendered evocative and colourful illustrations. Illustrations that moved. At first Ada thought it must be a trick of the light, but no, they shifted. Even when placing her finger on the page she could feel the pigment slip beneath her fingertip.

She flipped the book around, turning every page, searching for some mechanism that could cause this. She nearly thought about dissecting the book only to think better of it. She couldn’t explain what she was seeing, so begrudgingly, she accepted it, and began to read.

The first page depicted a forest, amongst which a group of people danced. Each time they passed behind a tree their form would shift into another. Ada watched them for a good while, it seemed the book never ran out of new and odd forms for the dancers to take. This page was setting up our protagonists then, the shapeshifters.

The next illustration was a two page spread. The first page depicted a larger figure, feminine with a porcelain crown, her arm outstretched, guiding her people through a grand mirror. Ada watched one of the shifting figures step through the mirror, only to appear on the second page of the spread. Each time a new figure passed into the mirror, the second page formed a new world, within which the visiting shifter would dance and frolic with the friends they found on the other side.

Then another two page spread. Similar to before, one side was the kingdom of the shifters, a city of shining towers now appearing in the background. On the other side was a mirror image of sorts. A black smudge of a creature, tall and cartoonishly menacing, backed by a city of twisting mechanical gears, clutching a hidden knife behind its back.

As Ada went to turn to the next page, she found the book resisted her, a stringy tar like substance tried to pull the pages back together. Finally she ripped the pages open, straining to hold either side down in an effort to prevent the book snapping shut. Yet these pages were wrong, broken. Black pitch stained them, and what illustrations weren’t obscured were still, shifters trapped awkwardly halfway between one thing and another, their faces frozen in agony, or perhaps fear. Then the room began to heat up, Ada noticed a warm glow fill the room as various pieces of metal began to shine red hot. Before she had a chance to question what was going on her attention was dragged back to the book.

Thin white talons slipped through the seam between the pages, black oil bleeding out of the book like blood. The claws were prying open the spine of the book, something was trying to get out. Ada let go of the pages, and the book slammed itself shut. She stared for a long while, waiting to see if the claws would continue to rip through the book in pursuit. They did not.

What was she supposed to make of this? Why did the captain even give this to her? There was at least one thing, well perhaps two things, she could suss out from all this. First, the mirror she obtained was likely of the same kind the shifting people used to travel between worlds. She tried not to think about what this implied about Ashley’s fate. The second conclusion she came to is that she knows utterly nothing.

She sat there, stuck in her wheelchair, in an unfamiliar aerostat crewed with unfriendly strangers, having been confronted with the fact the world is so much more grand and strange than she could have ever imagined, and felt, for the first time, totally helpless. At least when she was in the guard she felt like she had a purpose, a mission that was important. Now she felt tiny, dumped into a world she didn’t have the tools to navigate. But she knew who did.

She raced through the corridors, until finally ramming into Captain Callaway’s office. They were caught halfway through setting up their hammock for the night, an almost comically cliche nightcap perched on their head.

“You.” She said, nearly accusatorially.
“Me?” They replied coyly, “What about me?”
“Theres something I don’t know.” Ada paused, correcting herself, “There’s a lot of things I don’t know. You’re going to teach me.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because that is why I am here, to be taught.”
The captain looked down with a curious grin, excited to see what Ada would say next, “Oh?”

“You could have pulled those strings to have gotten any team assigned to that train, you chose mine. You could have left me to die, you didn’t. You could have dropped me off at any number of safe houses, but nevertheless I am here.” As she spoke certainty built in her voice, a sharp conviction that cut through the captain's air of mystery, “Then you tease me with glimpses of a strange world far beyond my imagination. To what, impress me? I doubt it, why would a captain crave my approval?”
“Of course, I hardly need the admiration of one as lowly as you,” they said with cheek, “But tell me then, what is my plan for you?”
“I’d say it’d be cruel if it weren’t so clever. First you take away my old world, the guard, my mission, and throw me into a cold new one filled with unfriendly faces. Then you show me an alternative, a strange world beyond the far reaches of my imagination, one I am compelled to chase in search of new purpose. So here I am, chasing.”

Captain Callaway’s cocky grin relaxed into a more sincere smile. They fell into their chair with a satisfied sigh, “So, do you want this then, do you want to be my apprentice, to learn the secrets of the occult?”
Did she? She didn’t see another path for herself, not anymore. She’d never be a fighter again, nor was she a skilled engineer. But she still had a fire, an urge to fight back against the world. Perhaps occultism could be her tool to exact the justice she needed.

“Yes, I do.” Just before the captain could respond, Ada cut them off, “But I need to know, why me?” Callaway paused for a moment. A grim look washed away their usually irreverent expression, “Because I am going to die soon, Ada, and I believe you are best suited to replace me.”

The sun shuddered overhead, its shifting panels folding up in preparation for nightfall. Opal’s twelve paws trod softly across the thatch roof. They were on the hunt; Their quarry: The wren, humble king of the birds and their life long nemesis. Opal would abide no monarch within the wilds, bird or otherwise.

Perched atop the chimney, the wren’s head swung side to side surveying its realm, yet unaware of the kittypillar prowling closer inch by inch. Such was the arrogance of royalty. All six pairs of legs tensed, ready to pounce, only for a sudden pain to shoot down Opal's lengthy torso. Clumsily they tumbled off the rooftop, starling the wren who fled into the trees. As always though, Opal landed on their feet.

The shame of a failed hunt was almost worse to Opal than the sharp pain that scattered out from their wound. Soon winter would arrive, and Mother would leave for her yearly sojourn across the Wildweald. Opal feared that should their strength not return, they may be left behind alone. The head of a monarch would surely prove they could still hunt alongside Mother. If only they could catch the king.

Or maybe another head would do, Opal pondered, staring through the cottage window at the stranger who wounded Opal so grievously. They were a powerful and strange beast, no doubt, but what better way to prove one's renewed strength than to topple a fiend such as she?

Ashley was getting really creeped out by the twelve legged cat staring at her with malicious intent from the windowsill. With difficulty she broke eye contact with the murderous little monster, and looked back toward Rena who was taking her time choosing an appropriately fancy cup from the cupboard. She was quite proud of her collection of mugs, glasses and chalices; sentimental trinkets of her travels. As she pondered she hummed to herself, her bushy tail swaying gently in rhythm. It would seem even her idle humming had an enchanting effect on Ashley, her conscious mind slipping ever so slightly out of sync with her body. It felt strangely restful. Comforting, even.

“Oh!” Rena declared, snapping Ashley from her stupor, “Of course, this cup was practically made for you!” She laughed, fetching a tea towel, and with it carefully producing what appeared to be a small stainless steel cup, placing it down before Ashley.
“Huh, why do you have this?” She said, picking it up to inspect it, Rena looking on as if Ashley had just performed a magic trick, “It isn’t like you can drink from it.”
“I simply enjoy collecting unique cups.” She shrugged, “This one for example is a relic from before the iron-curse, none like it have been made in a long many years. A piece of ancient history, held within my very own cupboard, is this not terrific!”

Rena’s enthusiasm was as infectious as it was adorable. Ashley probably wouldn’t have been so terrified of Rena back when she was being hunted down in the woods if she had known her pursuer was an avid mug collector, “You’re right Renna, it is terrific.” She managed to get out over her giggles, “so what piece of history will you be drinking from tonight?”
“Oh, a good question…” She pondered for a short while, before gently picking up a delicate black and white porcelain teacup, “This is genuine Wendan porcelain, which is said to never shatter.”
“You’re gonna be drinking booze from a teacup?”
“I see no problem with this, all cups hold liquid equally, do they not?” She questioned, her fuzzy lamb ears drooping a little as she tilted her head.
Ashley really was starting to wonder if all fae were as odd as Rena, or if she just happened to be particularly peculiar.

They sat together on the creaky old bench just outside the cottage, looking out over the garden they had tidied together, the flowers glowing in the gentle saffron light that filtered through rustling leaves overhead. Ashley still hadn’t gotten used to just how crisp and fragrant the air was here in the forest. She looked down to her cup, she wasn’t exactly sure what she was drinking, but it smelt of honey and apples. Sure enough, when it met her lips she was greeted by a nearly overwhelmingly sweet taste that hid beneath it an undercurrent of strong bitter alcohol.

“So, do you enjoy it?” Rena asked as her body relaxed into the bench.
“It’s sweet, a lot sweeter than anything back home.”
“Well, your home does seem rather bitter.” Rena said, quickly adding, “no offence!”
“Oh, none taken. You’re right, The City’s cruel, it’s why the guard exists.” She took another sip. Rena frowned. They sat in silence for a while, sipping their drinks, enjoying the evening in quiet companionship. Yet there was a tension now, Rena wanted to ask something, Ashley could hear her breathe in to speak, only to think better of it. What could she be so nervous to ask about?

Her stomach sank as the realisation hit her. She was finally going to ask the question why a woman like her had a cock. She’d tried to ask before on the beach what she was. She had kindly let it slide then, but she did say she’d talk about it over a drink. She’d been putting this off long enough, she had to admit what she was. Her heart began to pound, heat crawling up the back of her neck, how she wished she could just avoid talking about it, to just be normal instead. Her mind began to race, how should she even broach the subject? Anxiety swelled in her gut, until finally she burst out, “Okay, if you won’t say it I will. You want to ask about my dick!”

Rena’s drink promptly spewed forth from her mouth as she practically began to choke from laughter, “Ashley!” She sputtered, “Why, in all that is good and graceful, did you think I wished to speak about your dick?”
Well, that was hardly the reaction Ashley was expecting. Unprepared, Ashley stuttered out, “Because, I’m a woman? I shouldn’t, y'know, have one?”
“You should not?” Rena seemed genuinely confused.
How, Ashley thought, could she possibly be confused. Dumbfounded, she continued, “I… What? Usually women have, uh, vagina’s, you know that right?”
“I do not know how it works in your City, but here, no, that is not how it generally works.”
Ashley was overcome by a mix of confusion and embarrassment. Of fucking course in this weird topsy-turvy world a girl with a dick wouldn’t be out of the normal. The fucking moon has a pair of eyes and a grinning mouth, she was hardly the anomaly here!

But past all that, more than anything, she felt a deep sense of relief. She was normal here. She didn’t need to hide. She was safe.
“Are you, okay, you are crying? Have I said something wrong?” Rena was right, she brought her hand to her face and felt a few small tears trailing down her cheeks.
“No, no don’t worry… A lot of people back home take issue with what I am. I assumed you’d be the same.” Rena took Ashley in her arms, she was so warm, “I’m sorry I thought you’d be anything like them.”
“I will not claim to fully understand. But I promise you will face no cruelty for what you perceive as a difference.” Her embrace tightened, “Nor do I claim to fully understand why your people would be so cruel to you for that supposed difference.”
“Ha, honestly I don’t know either. Human nature I guess.”

Rena pulled back, Ashley was puzzled as to why Rena’s face was painted in shock, “Are saying you, and all the denizens of your City—have been human—this entire time?”
“Uh, yes?” The anxiety in Ashley's stomach began to bubble up once again. It would be funny in a way if Rena was fine with her being trans, but not being human.”
“Fuck me…” It felt odd to hear Rena swear so full throatedly, “I apologise, according to the stories, humans are supposed to be, well… Dead.”
Ashley wiped her tears away, her catharsis now mixed with confusion. If this conversation continued to be as emotionally turbulent as this she would need more alcohol, “Well, the stories are sort of right I suppose? The City’s all that’s left of us.”
“Hm…” Rena paused, gathering her thoughts, “Well, surely you cannot truly be a human, that would imply you will not reincarnate? Perhaps your kind simply named yourselves after them in honour of their sacrifice.”
“No, when we die we’re gone.” Ashley chuckled, this conversation really had gotten weird, “And, uh, what do you mean by sacrifice?”
Rena completely brushed off her question, her brows furrowed with concern, “So when you go, there will be no more Ashleys?”
“I mean, I’m sure people will still be named Ashley, but yeah, I’ll be dead. Permanently.”

A single life seemed incomprehensible to Rena. She knew when she died, another child would be born named Rena, and she would hold within her the same soul, even if she didn’t share her memories. She took comfort knowing that a Rena would always tend to the tattle-trees, and no matter how much she failed, she would always have another chance. If she had gone through the life Ashley had gone through without that assurance… She didn’t know how Ashley could do it.

“I apologise, I do not quite know what to say?”
Ashley gave a meek smile and shrugged, “Hey, it’s alright, that’s just how life is for us humans.”

Rain began to spit down in dribs and drabs, the tree trunks moaned as they bent in the wind, and stormclouds began to race across the horizon. The two of them wisely decided to take their drinks back into the cottage.

As the rain began to rap against the windows Rena busied herself lighting the homely fireplace set jauntily into the kitchen wall, meanwhile Ashley topped up both their respective cups. Between the weather and the complicated feelings that arose from their conversation, the mood had sunk somewhat.
“You know what will lift our spirits,” Rena said, the first embers of the fire flickering in her eyes, “A game!”
“A game?” Ashley asked, curious as to what kind of games the fae might play.
“A game… Oh dear, Ashley, please do tell me you have games in The City?”
Ashley giggled, “Yes, we have games!” She always found Rena’s misunderstandings so endearing.
“Oh good, with everything you have told me, you had me worried for a moment!”
“So, got a game in mind?”
“Yes, yes, wait here!” Rena jogged up the stairs, her tail wagging giddily about. She returned with a small featureless wooden box. She opened up the box to reveal a set of beaded loops all decorated with varying motifs and symbols. Rena looked at Ashley with puppylike enthusiasm. If Rena was going to continue being this adorable Ashley was going to have difficulties concentrating on the game.
“Alright, so how do you win?”
“You do not win this game,” Rena corrected Ashley, “It is called ‘Hornsight’, usually played at festivals and gatherings of Satyr folk.”
“Oh, there are other Satyr like you?”
Rena chortled, “Of course, I did not simply pop out of the ground! Though they live off in a distant hinterland, I have not been able to make the trek home for some time…” Rena sighed before promptly taking a swig from her teacup, “It will be nice to play again, after ever so long.”
Rena was good at hiding it, but Ashley had been around her for long enough now to see the loneliness behind her eyes. Though she was curious about her home before the Mythwood, perhaps it was best not to press the matter.

“So, what do we do with the beads?”
“Throw them! More specifically, throw them at me, aiming to snag them onto my horns. Once you’ve thrown them all, we collect the loops I caught and use them to read my future! Usually we would take turns but your head is as smooth as a stone, so sadly we shall only determine my fate today.”
“Weird metaphor, but fair enough.” Ashley was a little disappointed, some bead based guidance on her future would be appreciated right now.

Soon enough Ashley was holding a box full of beads and Rena had assumed a ready stance, a wide and wild smile across her face. They were both rather tipsy by this point, having finished their first cup and getting well into their second; so when Ashley started clumsily chucking the strings of beads at Rena, as she in turn started violently headbutting the air trying to catch them, the both of them erupted in raucous laughter. They looked astonishingly silly wobbling around, valiantly fighting off their fit of giggles, trying to finish the game. Ashley’s face ached from smiling so much, she didn’t realise that was even possible.

Eventually Ashley ran out of projectiles in her little box, the two of them letting out a cheer as Rena speared the last one on her horn. The both of them collapsed onto the bead strewn floor together, catching their breath, the fire now in full bloom, flooding the room with warmth as the rain pounded down outside. Lying there together, the flame dancing in each other's eyes, each thought the other was the most beautiful person they had ever known. Not that the other knew. With a satisfied sigh Rena said, “Well, I suppose it is time to work out what terrible fate I am doomed too!”
“Ah, only good things I’m sure!” Ashley slurred, as Rena began gathering her beads and consulting a small chart on the back of the box.

Suddenly her cheeks turned strawberry red, a small nervous bleat escaped her throat.
“Uhh, watcha get?” Ashley said, suddenly very curious at this strange reaction.
“Um, nothing, nothing at all!” Rena began to hurriedly collect the beads.
“Nothing?” Ashley frowned, “Ugh I fucked it up, didn’t I?”
“No! No you did not, I just meant, nothing bad…”
“Few… Good!” There was a pause, “Okay so what DID you get?”
“Good. I got um…” Her eyes shifted around, finding anywhere to look other than Ashley, “Good things…”
“Right…” Ashley was both too drunk and too autistic to read any further into this.

“SO,” She said, shutting the box with a snap, “Know any City games we could play?”
“Uh, no, not really. Most of the games I know require pieces; little miniature models of people and stuff.”
“Aww…” Rena pouted, “Still, I am curious, what kind of game requires itty bitty people?”
“Oh, it’s just a wargame, to simulate battle tactics and large scale combat, that kinda thing. Me and the other captains had a weekly game going. I always won.” She added smugly.
Rena smiled with a sigh, pinching the sides of her forehead just beneath her horns, “Ashley, is there—anything—in your City that does not involve violence of somekind?”
Ashley opened her mouth to respond, but her mind went blank. They both chuckled.

Rena sat back down next to Ashley, setting her nearly drained teacup to the side, “A while back I asked you if you wanted to return. You did not respond. Your ankle is nearly healed, soon nothing will be stopping you from leaving and searching for a way back home.” Rena paused, almost frightened to ask the question, “Will you?”
“Yeah.” Ashley answered without a thought, “Of course, I have to. I’m lost here Rena, I don’t know what to make of myself. The City, even if it’s hard, even if I can’t return to my old life, it’s the world I know.” Ashley poured the rest of her drink down her throat.
“Please stay.” The plea left Rena before she could stop herself.
“What?”
“I mean, uh…” Rena did not mean to come off that desperate, quickly trying to salvage the situation she added, “The Wildweald can be dangerous, especially for one so vulnerable to being enthralled as yourself. If even I can enchant you, I would fear for your safety.”

‘Vulnerable,’ ‘fear for your safety,’ who did this overgrown—albeit hot—goat think Ashley was? With her better judgment suppressed by alcohol, old instincts kicked in. Show no vulnerability, show no dependency, show no weakness. Ashley stood, her eyes lit with indignity, “I can handle myself, Rena. I am a captain, raised in the streets of The City, I don’t need your coddling or your sympathy.”
Rena stood to meet her, bewildered and insulted at Ashley’s sudden standoffishness, “Ashley, since you have arrived I have taken it upon myself to care for you, to keep you safe. You do not know this world, as you yourself have said. I do.”
“So what, I stay here until… When exactly? Am I still your prisoner?”
“That is not what I mean. You cannot think that is what I mean!”
“Oh, I know what you mean. You think I’m a weak, vulnerable, little thing that needs your protection. Well I don’t.” She sneered, alcohol letting loose words she knew she shouldn’t say, “You need me more than I need you. I can see how lonely you are Rena, hidden away in these woods. I will not stagnate here with you.”
Tears welled in Rena’s eyes. Was Ashley right, was she being manipulative? She had been alone for so, so long. Even as Ashley stood there, grimacing toward her, she just saw a scared animal.

“And I know you too.” Said Rena with a cold fury, her voice catching a little in her throat, “You are a wild beast that has only ever learnt to use its claws. If I let you loose you will find conflict where there is none, and eventually find yourself on the losing side.”
“Will I now?” Ashley barked, “I was starved and scared when we first fought. Give me a rematch, here and now, and I will show you that I do not need you, or your protection. First to pin the other wins.”
“Okay, let us have it your way. But should you lose, you stay, at least for now.” Rena hissed, cutting through the crackling of the fireplace.

Anger and alcohol pumped through their veins. Rena became a hunter again; she observed how Ashley paced, watched where her eyes lingered, saw how her body language betrayed her intent. Ashley in turn became the weapon she was made to be; she felt how her muscles tense against her bone, how her nerves ran like lightning beneath her skin, how her teeth felt like fangs in her mouth.

Ashley knew Rena would be the one to make the first move, she had seen how fast she had moved back in the woods. That was okay. All it meant was she’d be the one to make the first mistake. Hoof against wood, Rena moved in a flash. She was upon Ashley, curling ram horns aimed for her chest. The air left her lungs, her chest bruised, but Ashley stood strong.

Rena stumbled back from the impact, looking toward Ashley in shock. How was she still standing? Before Rena had the chance to vault away Ashley had her by the horns. With a roar Ashley flung Rena away. With a thud she collided with a wall. Rena quickly bounced back, circling around Ashley working out her next move. She had hoped to finish this quickly, but clearly Ashley would be able to out endure her. Perhaps then she should show her a weapon of the Wildweald she was uniquely vulnerable to?

Ashley stood there, her body felt like a cocked gun. It felt good to fight again, to do what she was trained to do, to be a weapon. Then Rena did something Ashley hadn’t expected. She began to sing. It sounded like a lullaby, though she couldn’t quite catch the words. Her thoughts began to vanish one by one. But that was okay. She didn’t need her mind to fight, her body remembered what to do. Rena watched Ashley’s eyes glaze over. For a moment relief washed over her, she had won. Cautiously she approached, singing all the while. Ashley’s head listed to the side as she sunk into dissociation. Then her body snapped into action, shooting forward at brutal speed. Rena barely dodged a fist, then another, then another after that.

Ashley watched her fist fly through the air, ‘she was a weapon, not a person.’ Ashley saw her elbow bury itself in Rena’s stomach, ‘she was a weapon, not a person.’ Ashley saw her foot collide with their knee, ‘she was a weapon not a person.’ Ashley watched her knuckles wrap around its horns, ‘she was a weapon not a person.’ She watched her free fist impact its face, ‘she was a weapon, not a—’

Blood flowed from Rena’s nose, following the contour of her lips and down her chin. Ashley stood frozen for a moment. She let go of her horns and staggered back, hands held over her mouth, “I, Rena I am so sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to…”
Rena looked up at her. Somehow she had a smile on her face. Then in an instant Ashley felt a leg hook around hers. Her back collided with the ground. She blinked and Rena was atop her, “I win.” She declared, drops of blood dripping down onto Ashley.

Ashley's face began to crumble up, her throat tightened, her lips trembled. Then she began to howl and weep, a river of tears streaming down her cheeks. Rena quickly pulled her up into an embrace, holding her tightly. Ashley sobbed uncontrollably into her shoulder, pulling herself further into Rena. Through her blubbering she apologised again and again, Rena reassuring her the best she could that all was okay.

“I don’t want to be a weapon anymore. I don’t want to go back.” Ashley sniffled out, voice shaking, “I don’t want to hurt people. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You cannot, remember? I won. You are staying right here with me.” Rena stroked Ashley’s hair, holding her close, “You will never again be a weapon wielded by evil people, made to hurt others against your will. I promise you will be alright. I promise you will learn to be gentle again.”

Ashley pulled away just enough to be able to see Rena’s face. Her nose had stopped bleeding, a dull green trail of dried blood was smeared across her face. The tears that had welled up in her strange golden letterbox eyes flicked in the firelight and her auburn hair ran past her horns like running water splitting past a rock. Then, inch by inch, their faces grew closer. They could feel each other's breath on their face, their hearts pounding against each other's chest. Rena cupped the back of Ashley’s head drawing her in.

Their lips met. The kiss was slow, gentle. Their bodies pressed tightly together. Ashley could taste the sweet booze mixed with the metallic tang of blood on Rena’s lips. Ashley let her hand rise up to bury itself in Rena’s hair, holding onto her as she did the same. The moment stretched on, as she lost herself in Rena’s embrace. Only eventually parting to look again into each other's eyes.

Slowly the adrenaline from the fight withdrew, giving way to fatigue. The two fully collapsed into each other, exhausted. Grabbing some nearby cushions the two curled up together in front of the fireplace and quickly succumbed to sleep.

Chapter Text

It was a rare day in the guard that Ashley was off duty; so rare in fact she couldn’t remember any. Now she had finally let go of the idea of returning to that life, she would never be on duty again. With that burden lifted, her body, for the first time in a very long time, relaxed. For a little over a week she spent much of her time nuzzled up in her cage, curled tightly into her nest of pillows and blankets. She alternated between taking long naps and paging through indecipherable fae books, gleaning what narrative she could from their illustrations.

The books however provided little distraction from the kiss that still lingered on her lips, as well as her mind. Ashley insisted to herself it probably meant nothing. They were drunk, and emotions were high. Yet still, Ashley wanted more than anything to fall into Rena, to lose herself to her. But Rena was all she had now, she couldn’t risk damaging the connection they had both worked so hard to form. Besides, Rena didn’t feel that way about Ashley, not like how she felt about her.

For Rena’s part she was pleased she didn’t have to keep finding things for Ashley to do just so she could feel useful. That being said, her busy work was not unappreciated. The cottage had been in a sorry state before Ashley had arrived. Rena often found it difficult to tidy, especially when she was in one of her more lonely and melancholic moods. Yet since Ashley had arrived those moods had been arriving less and less frequently, and even over the past few days without Ashley’s help, she had been making good progress in restoring the cottage into a home she could be proud of. 

It had been a fortnight since she had captured Ashley and her lonely monotonous life turned unpredictable and wild. She was so thankful Ashley wasn’t leaving, that in the end she was brave enough to be vulnerable—brave enough to trust Rena to protect her; she wasn’t going to let her regret that choice. It still wasn’t enough for Rena though. She didn’t want to just protect her, she wanted to care for her, be close to her, to touch her. But that couldn’t happen. Ashley relied on her now, she couldn’t abuse Ashley’s newfound trust in her just to satisfy her desires. Besides, Ashley didn’t feel that way about Rena, not like how she felt about her.

Ashley was human—if the most she would let herself do was protect her—she needed to know exactly what that meant. She knew a little already, from old stories and fairytales; that Old Mankind were the first and only people at the dawn of time, that they found themselves alone in an empty cosmos, and eventually decided to burn their future away—sacrificing their immorality to fill the sky with stars, and the realms with new life. A perfectly adequate creation myth, but apparently not the end of the story. 

Rena slid open a cluttered drawer inside her cramped study, carefully placing Ashley’s steel armour onto the desk with an old oven glove. She didn’t seem much like the humans of old, nor did any of the other humans Ashley spoke of. They had changed, perhaps her belongings could hint as to how? Her gun—something Ashley insisted wasn’t magic—didn’t surrender any hints as to what had become of humanity, nor did her sabre and breastplate. Her pauldron however did. Before she didn’t think much of the engravings upon it, but now she looked at it with new eyes.

It was said that humans had sacrificed themselves to give others life, or to quote the old stories they had, ‘burnt their future away.’ So now, with Ashley’s humanity as context, the mantra emblazoned on the pauldron, ‘BURN THE PAST TO FUEL THE FUTURE,’ was all the more ominous. Was humanity trying to burn its past as well? If so, how, and why? It didn’t seem like Ashley knew anything about humanity's past, or even about magic as a whole. It was doubtful then she’d know anything of use. Perhaps the Barons did then, whoever they were. Ashley, when she did speak about them, did so with wide eyed reverence. Rena began to suspect she had stumbled into something important, something that had been kept secret for a very long time. She only hoped whatever this conspiracy was, Ashley had escaped its web for good.

Rena however could not escape her own curiosity. It was beginning to seem like the Barons, whoever they were, had some plan for what humans remained. If she could work out who they were, then maybe she could work out what they wanted. The best place to start was the Royal Library of Wendan, but that was a three week trek away, so the tattle-trees would have to do. As it would happen the tattle-trees all knew exactly who the Barons were, unfortunately they all knew differently. Of course the Barons were the dread-cousins—the classic fae boogeyman—but they were also angelic tyrants from a realm of solid light as well as apparently some kind of deep sea eel bent on conquering the world of dry land. The tattle-trees were as useful as ever then… 

Yet concerningly a couple of old oaks had also claimed the Barons were a group of harpies who had recently nested in the Mythwood. A little ball of worry curled up in Rena’s throat. She asked a little sapling to tell a tale about pirates. It spun a story about harpy sky sailors going on adventures. The ball swelled. Then she questioned a creaking old cancerous tree about the history of the Cursed-War, to which it began to lecture Rena on the crucial role harpy witches had in banishing the dread-cousins. The tattle-trees had no loyalty to facts, favouring instead flavourful lies. But when those lies align, they often point to a truth. It seemed Rena had a harpy problem.

Ashley sat amongst a mess of clothes, in front of her a dusty mirror, a verdigris frame holding its cracked halves together. Her military fatigues were covered in blood and muck. She could clean them, of course, but it didn’t feel right to wear them anymore. She needed a new look. As it would turn out, despite Rena wearing solely two strips of cloth that could barely be considered clothing, she had quite an extensive wardrobe. When she questioned why, Rena said she had searched all of the Wildweald for clothes she felt comfortable in, eventually giving up entirely. Apparently she just hated the feeling of clothes rubbing against her fur and skin, and never found anything that didn’t irritate her, only covering up in the winter when she was forced to by the cold. Ashley had no idea what ‘winter’ was, but she would gladly take advantage of her wardrobe, even if Rena couldn’t. 

She had a vast selection of styles from across the Wildweald. Most of the trousers wouldn’t fit her, being tailored to Rena’s digitigrade legs, and she would obviously have to keep her guard issued boots for the time being. Eventually she settled on a rugged dress, fashioned from thick wool, studded with small brass buttons and dyed a deep royal blue. But looking in the mirror she felt a bit plain. She still felt as if she were dressing for The City. She needed something more fae.

She began to accessorise. First a belt to accentuate her hips, one with an outrageous number of pouches dangling from it, despite her having no possessions to put in them. Then another belt, slightly askew from the first. The first belt’s purpose was practicality, this one’s duty was style. To this end she raided Rena’s jewelry, weaving a bronze chain through the belts punch holes and from it hanging an assortment of copper pendants and charms that jingled about as she walked. Ashley assessed her outfits progress in the mirror. The dual belt setup was certainly a start, but its jaunty eccentricity outweighed the rest of the outfit, it needed balancing.

A quick rummage through the pile rewarded her with a pair of thick stockings that reached up past her knees to her thighs, its delicate floral pattern contrasting with her steel toed boots. A quick glance at the mirror confirmed her suspicions, her legs looked great in them. Yet still the outfit was unbalanced, she needed something to balance out her top half of her outfit with her bottom.

Then, as if hearing her silent plea for outrageous ornamentation, she found the perfect finishing flourish for her outfit. A hooded cloak, barely long enough to reach her elbows. It was the perfect sea green to match that of her stockings, and even boasted a similar floral pattern that trailed up the capes hem. She looked in the mirror, a giddy grin plastered across her face. She twisted about with childish glee, watching her cloak lift up and the ornaments on her belt jingle about. Then, out the corner of the mirror, she spied Rena watching her.

She spun around, her cheeks turning red.

“Well, you certainly look decorated.” Rena said, trying to hide a bemused grin, “I am rather fond of that cloak as well, how about you try raising the hood?”

Ashley paused for a moment, could this cloak be magical? Would pulling the hood up activate some fae enchantment? Tentatively she raised the hood, waiting for a moment for something to happen, “Uhm, is it, working?”

“I think it works, you look just as adorable with it up as down!”

“Oh uh,” Ashley became even more flustered, the red in her cheeks flooding across her face, “Sorry I thought it would be magical, or something?”

“No, that is just a cloak.” She giggled out, “We can certainly acquire you a magical one, if you would like! But I think for the time being that one suits you just fine.”

“So you like the outfit, you don’t think I look silly or anything?”

“You only looked silly when you were stuffed into that uniform. Now, you just look like yourself.”

Rena’s gaze filled her with warmth. How was she so sweet to her? 

“Anyway,” Rena continued, “I did not come up here simply to flatter you. I have spoken to the tattle-trees and there seems to be some harpies who have roosted in the northern edge of the Mythwood, right upon the border of Highheath. It is a two day trek there and back. You are welcome to join, should you wish. Or you are free to—”

“I’d love to join!” Ashley interjected, “I love lazing around here, but it’d be good to see more of the Wildweald. Plus, I like hanging out with you.”

“I do not believe we will be doing much hanging, unless you wish to bring hammocks? But no matter, I am glad you wish to join me, the tedium of the journey will be soothed by your company, I am sure. Prepare what you must, we leave tomorrow morning.”

That morning Ashley awoke bright and early, something she had unfortunately stopped being so used too. Stumbling down to the kitchen she found Rena had already finished packing, instead now busy trying to wrangle an indignant Opal.

“I know my sweetness, I know you are very grumpy right now. But I promise, I shall return in a couple of days.” She said, trying to beseech Opal to remain still whilst attempting to apply some kind of waxy salve to the nearly healed bullet wound on their torso. Opal was having none of it, wiggling around in proud defiance. Rena continued, “Listen, if you are not better by winter you will be unable to join me, and neither of us would like that, would we? So play nice, and let me apply the salve.”

With that Opal finally stayed still long enough for Rena to smear some of the salve onto them. Opal complained with a shrill hiss at the salves application, displeased with how it slicked down her fur, before then catching sight of Ashley and scurrying off.

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare them away.” She said, her voice coming out a little deeper than she meant, still groggy from waking up.

“Oh, it is okay, you did not scare them away, they just do not like you.” Rena said candidly.

“Well, I did shoot them afterall, don’t think I’d be too thrilled either.” She said, now swinging her voice a little too high up in compensation, “Still, at least she has you. You’ve taken great care of her; I don’t think I’ve ever seen a bullet wound heal so fast!”

“It is a mixture made by a friend of mine, an alchemist in Bael. Living in that city you will quickly rack up wounds, so he has had much experience in producing healing tonics and salves.” She said, slipping it into her pack, “Although the Mythwood is not as dangerous as Bael, it is best to be prepared.”

After a light breakfast the two departed. The Mythwood had changed since Ashley had arrived. As they navigated over root and stone, her eyes were fixed upward, upon the slowly reddening leaves, “Are the harpies doing that?”

“Doing what?” Rena asked, looking back toward her companion.

“Making the leaves all red and yellow, I can’t imagine that’s all too good for the trees?”

Rena softly chuckled, “I suppose with your world dead, you would not have seasons would you?”

“Oh, seasons! Yeah we have those. Cinder, Soot and Sweet.”

“Sweet?” Rena chuckled, “The City has a Sweet season, how uncharacteristically quaint!”

“Yeah,” sighed Ashley nostalgically, “always loved Sweet as a kid. All the chemicals held up in the clouds would sink back down, and fill the air with this weird saccharine smell; it even gave you a buzz if you breathed it in too much. Plus, all the chemicals stained everything this shimmering pinkish-blue. A right pain to clean out though…”

“Sounds, charming?” She said with a placating smile, “What about Cinder and Soot?”

“Oh, those were just shit.”

The rest of the walk was occupied by a lively lecture on seasons, at least it started that way. Rena’s enthusiasm quickly leapt from subject to subject—just as the humble cricket-toad might leap from toadstall to toadstall—as Rena’s rant had informed Ashley. She certainly wasn’t bored though, if anything she was enthralled by it. Her voice was just so beautiful; the way she bounced from syllable to syllable, from word to word, it was enchanting.

“Here shall suffice.” She said, dumping her backpack onto the sparse dirt of heath, “Our quarry should be near. We continue our hunt come mourning.”

“Hm, oh!” Ashley looked around, only to suddenly find herself not where she was. They had climbed some distance, now a ways above the trees. She could look out over the Mythwood, it’s reddening leaves making it look as if it were some great gushing wound in the earth. The entire Mythwood was tucked away within a vale, its only open side leading out to the sea. Surrounding it, now visible from the height they had climbed, was Highheath. She never imagined the Wildweald could host something so stark and bleak. Vast rolling hills of craggy shrubland stretched out into the horizon, mist flowing through the troughs between like rivers. Small patches of saffron flowers smoldered with yellow embers, lighting up the quickly darkening horizon with a thousand tiny bonfires. If it weren’t so cold and so damp, it might even have reminded her of the wastes beyond The City.

“This place seems… Dead?” Ashley said, taking it in.

“Almost, but not quite.” Rena frowned.

“What happened?”

“A war, well before my time though; the land never healed.”

“It’s beautiful, in a grim kinda way.”

Rena turned to Ashley and smiled, “Always leave it to the City girl to find beauty in desolate places.”

Ashley met Rena’s gaze, “I can find it in other places too.”

And so the two prepared for bed. The ever shifting sun collapsed down into nothing more than a particularly bright star, letting darkness wash over the world. Sleep took Ashley quickly. It was deep and dreamless, something that had been happening more often lately. Yet her slumber was interrupted by a curious sound that carried across the hills. A song, perhaps? Bleary eyed she slipped out of her sleeping bag and looked across the starlit crags. Whilst she couldn’t see the music's source, she could hear where it was coming from.

She found herself alone now at the bottom of a crumbling crevice, old tree roots being the only barrier preventing the walls from crumbling in. Wait, why hadn’t she woken Rena up? Oh well, she probably had a reason. The song was growing clearer now. Her voice was stunning, light and delicate as a feather. She must see whose voice this belonged to. 

Now she was amongst a grove, nestled amongst a hollow within the hills, half dead tattle-trees surrounded her, their eyes leaking thick black tar, their voices moaning grave warnings. But the song cut through all their pleas for her to turn back. It was so close now, so clear, she just had to see if the singer's beauty matched that of her voice.

It did. Ashley was before her now, on her knees, jaw slack and eyes wide. She was perched atop a dead tree, her taloned feet clawed about a branch. Her body was as alien as it was beautiful, inhumanly gorgeous, her movement otherworldly. Ribbons of bright lapis paint wrapped across her bare skin like rivers. Bronze bangles decorated her lithe limbs. Her talons gleamed in the moonlight. 

But her wings, oh her wings. They sprung forth from her back, splayed out like a peacock's plumage. Each feather caught every shred of light that touched upon it, reflecting back a thousand dazzling colours, forming a nebula of shifting hues into which Ashley lost herself.

Was she even still singing? Ashley couldn’t tell. The song had wormed its way into her head, wrapping around her mind like a python, slowly suffocating away the spark of fear that had lit up in the back of her mind, until all that remained was a placid dark. The harpy was in front of her now. She hadn’t the want to run. A claw trailed gently down her cheek, drawing a fine line of blood in its wake. The harpy cautiously stroked a fingertip through the trail, hissing in pain as it burnt her. Yet her pained wince turned into a satisfied smile. Her bait had worked, she found her prey. She took Ashley by the hand and guided her further into the dark.

They came to the harpies' roost. Three nests hung amongst the branches of a long dead tree, from which the harpies’ sisters looked down upon them both, squawking approval in a language Ashley didn’t recognise. Not that she could recognise any language in this state. The three of them surrounded her, their wings ablaze with colour, Ashley could not muster a thought. Soon their claws peeled away her clothes, throwing them aside, until she was bare, exposed to the chill of the night.

They laid her gently upon a fallen tree trunk. Ashley’s vision was stained by the colour of their wings, her thoughts drowned out by the echoes of their song. One harpy grasped her wrists, the other her ankles—holding her securely in place—whilst the third climbed atop her, straddling Ashley. She reached down to either side of Ashley’s body, hands trailing across her curves, feeling their way up until finally cupping her breasts. Her touch felt so good, so right. Somewhere in her stupor she knew she should be terrified, yet she couldn’t help but sink deeper and deeper into the illusion of calm she found herself lost within.

The harpies chittered at each other for a moment, before closing their eyes and beginning to speak. It was beautiful, as was anything that came from their lips. Yet this time it was less of a song, and more of a chant. They were reciting something ancient, yet strangely familiar, perhaps even nostalgic. Ashley found herself muttering along without even knowing the words, they simply came to her as if they had been placed on her tongue.

Her hands began to move from Ashley’s breasts, each moved as a mirror of the other. As they did, she dragged a talon along her skin. Starting from her sternum, trailing downward in a spiralling pattern. It was exquisitely excruciating. The enchantment wouldn’t allow her to be afraid, and so to that end it flipped her pain to pleasure.

Sharp stinging pain rapturous pleasure played across her nerves like lightning. Her skin easily gave way to her talons, engraving shallow red runes into her that seemed to flicker as if lit by an inner fire. Ashley writhed squirmed in pain pleasure, the harpies holding her still even as she strained against them. Her puppeted voice still muttered along to the spell, only occasionally being interrupted by cries of anguish ecstasy.

The harpies cackled, watching their prey pet struggle uselessly against them. With little effort they heaved her up, flipping her onto her front, so they could begin work on her back. From her shoulderblades they cut caressed, scribing the spell they would cast onto her skin. The chanting neared its crescendo, as did the torturous agony hedonistic bliss. Then finally, with one last stroke of the harpies talon, the spell was writ upon her skin and Ashley let out one final cry before collapsing into unconsciousness.

Rena rubbed the sleep from her eyes and peaked out of her thickly padded sleeping bag, “Good morning Ash—” only for her voice to catch as she found Ashley's sleeping bag empty.

A quick survey of the campsite confirmed she hadn’t just gotten up early, or wandered off to take a piss. She was nowhere to be seen. Panic throbbed in Rena’s heart, radiating through her chest and into limbs as she began to get light headed. She was supposed to protect her, and on her first excursion beyond the Mythwood she had been spirited away. What kind of guardian would allow that to happen? But this wasn’t the time for panic, or for self flagellation. She would have only truly failed should she not do her utmost to repair her mistake. Rena closed her eyes and breathed deeply through her nose, Higheath's cold and humid air filling her lungs. She held it in for a moment, before letting it out through pursed lips, feeling the pressure inside her release.

When she opened her eyes again she saw more clearly. There was no blood, nor was Rena herself attacked in her sleep; clearly she wasn’t attacked, at least not in the camp. Ashley was certainly an independent woman, but she also wasn’t stupid enough to simply wander off into the dark. She was taken then, but by who and why? The why would remain a mystery for now, the who however might be revealed by whatever clues the kidnapper might have errantly left behind.

Rena, carefully not to disturb the bare soil, crouched down to inspect the campsite for tracks. Yet the only tracks she could find were Ashley's; her footprints were unmistakable with The Cities seal on her heel. Then she must have walked out, and apparently by herself? As previously stated—Ashley was not so stupid as to simply wander off alone in the middle of the night—unless of course her better judgment was suddenly and massively impeded.

A horrible revelation came upon Rena. Ashley had been enchanted. She cursed herself for not preparing for that possibility. Rena was hardly skilled in enchantment, and even she could subdue Ashley. Someone with any actual skill would easily be able to seize Ashley's mind. She’d have to think of a way to protect her from her vulnerability being taken advantage of in the future, but for now she just had to find her.

It was hardly a difficult task to follow her tracks. The foliage here was thin, and the wind was dead in the crags between the hills, her footprints were preserved perfectly. She was lucky it hadn’t rained that night. Soon she found what she was looking for, though it was a dire sight.

Within a dusty chasm nestled amongst the knolls of Higheath was a crude campsite. A trio of nests were scattered about, decorated with occult trinkets. In the centre of the campsite was a butchered tattle-tree that had been turned into an as-of-yet unlit pyre, in the middle of which Ashley sat asleep and restrained, her skin riddled with runes.

The three harpies circled overhead, clinging to the rockface, eyes appraising this newfound threat. The eldest of them descended, landing before Rena with a thud before straightening herself up to her considerable height. The two locked eyes for a tense moment. Rena still didn’t know exactly what they wanted from Ashley, though it was clear it would not end well for her. She needed to play this very carefully. She was a competent fighter, but she wasn’t so foolish as to think she could win in a fight against three harpy witches.

“Hail…” She said, trying to keep an air of calm authority, “I am Rena, Groundskeeper of the Mythwood?”

“I am Henia, and these are my sisters…” The other two watched on from above. The younger of the two gave a rather enthusiastic wave, somewhat undercutting the attempt at intimidation. The other sister gave a disapproving squawk.

Rena’s eyes darted to Ashley and back to Henia, “and what is going on over there?” She gestured to Ashley, thinking it better to not reveal their relationship for now.

“That, my little lamb, is a human. The tree said we might find one here, at least it did before we chopped it up,” she grimly cackled, “we thought it was taking the piss. But would you believe it, after singing out for the human, my sister managed to actually snag one. Once we burn it and bottle its soul, we’ll be right out of your hair, darling.”

Fuck, they knew what Ashley was. It is doubtful a trio of witches would simply let such a valuable creature like Ashley go. Rena needed to play this right.

“You…” Rena stuttered a little, uncertain where she was going with the sentence, “You caught one! By all that is good and graceful you are my heroes!”

Henia raised her eyebrows, looking toward the human, then back to Rena. Henia was thrown off balance; she was prepared for a fight, or an argument, not outright gratitude “What do you mean, ‘we’re heroes?’”

That was a fantastic question, what did Rena mean? She was weaving this story as she went. It was fortunate then that she had learnt how to bullshit from the best—the tattle-trees, “A dozen scouts have made landfall in the Mythwood, a precursor to an invasion I fear. They are bitter creatures, filled with regret at letting their immortality go, and wish to take it back. I have done my best to thwart their advance, but to little success.”

The sisters looked at each other in disbelief, “You’re saying there’s more?”
“Many, many more.” Rena lied through her teeth, “I would have gone to Wendan to warn the Queen of the coming horde, yet I have my woodland to protect, I cannot simply leave it, yet still I face no chance at weathering the coming storm.” Rena began to hyperventilate as if in deep panic, all the while trying to work out where she was going to go with this next.

Apparently her act was convincing, as the previously antagonistic glare of Henia turned to one of genuine concern. She placed a claw onto Rena’s shoulder, “Breathe little lamb, breathe. You are in the company of fellow fae.”

Rena pretended to calm herself, “Thank you, friend. I understand you may have captured this one with seeming ease, but you have yet to see the true terror humans may yet wreak upon the Wildweald.” Rena paused pensively, she had found her angle, “Might I ask you a favour, one which will surely yield you a grand reward?”

Henia gave a shrill chuckle as she looked back at her sisters, “Well girls, we do like grand rewards don’t we?” The others laughed along.

“With your wings you may fly to Wendan and warn the Queen far quicker than I could by hoof. Please, will you deliver my plea? I promise the Queen will reward you lavishly.”

Henia ran her tongue across her teeth, weighing her options, “We’d have to leave the human behind, we can’t exactly be carrying her all the way to Wendan.”

“I would keep her as my prisoner, closely guarded, of course. I understand you desire its soul for the magical potency it carries, but I can assure you, in the coming war you will have plenty more oppertunities.”

Henia and her sisters perched amongst the branches of a dead tree, discussing the choice they should make. After some hushed arguing Henia landed back before Rena, “Very well little lamb, we will take your plea. I assume then you know the rhyme needed to pass through Wendan’s ward then?”

Rena finally released the breath she was holding in, “Thank you, you are truly heroes! And yes, I know the rhyme, ‘A thousand realms, a thousand cousins; let all our joys be shared in the dozens.’”

“That’s… a surprisingly shit rhyme, I was expecting something more grandiose?”

“Yes, well, it is a password not a poem.” Considering Rena had made it up in a split second, she didn’t think it was too bad.

Henia shrugged, “Well, time to collect this Queenly reward, eh?” Looking back at her sisters. Soon they had collected their various trinkets and baubles, and launched off toward Wendan. Although without the actual rhyme they’d never be able to deliver Rena’s ‘warning’ to the Queen of course.

As soon as they had vanished from sight Rena rushed to untie Ashley, lifting her up and carrying her away from the thankfully never lit pyre. Rena paced back and forth as Ashley laid unconscious on the gravel, her head resting upon Rena’s pack. She rubbed her fingers into her eyes as she ground a pebble into the dirt with her hoof. She had just got Ashley to open up, just got her to trust again, then fucking this happens? Rena kicked the pebble, causing it to skitter across the ground. How could she have let this happen?

She sat down, inspecting the script cut into Ashley's skin. The wounds were incredibly fine and shallow, they’d heal quickly at least. But it was not the physical wounds she was most afraid of. The trance she was placed under must have been deep, it would be unlikely she’d have any clear memories. Perhaps it’d be best if Rena hid as much of what had happened from Ashley as possible. She couldn’t let all the progress she made go up in flames.

First she had to get rid of the writing scrawled into her skin. She withdrew the salve she had been using to treat Opal’s wound from her pack. As she opened the lid she immediately was hit with a sweet waxy smell. She scooped out a glob of the stuff and began to apply it, running the salve across Ashley's body, all the while trying to not let herself enjoy it; to not enjoy how helpless and limp Ashley was in her arms, how soft her body was as her hands ran across her. She felt a pang of disgust at herself. How could she be enjoying seeing Ashley like this, what was wrong with her? Then she began to see Ashley stir. She couldn’t wake up here, not yet. The pyre still sat there unlit, the salve had only half healed her skin. Rena began to hum a lullaby, pushing her gently back down into slumber. She had to keep her under, she had to keep her calm. This was for her own good.

Soon the salve had sunk into her, mending her skin and leaving no evidence of her cuts. Rena carefully dressed Ashley, her body still limp like a doll's, and picked her up, carrying her back to the campsite.

Ashley woke up. Her body ached terribly, her skin was sensitive and sore.

“Ah, you are awake!” Rena shot up, trotting over toward Ashley.

“Yeah… Just about. I slept like shit…”

“Yes, well, about that…” Unlike before with the harpies, this lie was rehearsed, “You were enthralled, Ashley.”

“What do you mean?” Ashley got to her feet languidly, her eyes still blurry from her deep sleep.

“Last night, whilst we were sleeping, a nearby woodland fairy accidently enchanted you with her singing. You just, well, wandered off.”

“First harpies now fairies, when did these woods get so busy?” Ashley felt uneasy, trying to imagine herself wandering off into the night, alone and unthinking.

“Well, tragedies come two a penny I am afraid.” Rena gave a consolatory smile, “But do not fear, things have returned to normalcy once more! I spoke to the harpies, and they have kindly moved on from the woods. As for the fairy, well, it seems they were having a lot of fun playing with you, but did not realise you were under their spell! After I explained the situation they released you, and you fell asleep.”

“I don’t remember any of that? Is all that why my skin feels so weird?”

“Yes, well, my enchantment abilities are rather limited. Those more experienced in such things will produce stronger effects, including blank spots in memory.” Rena only implied that it was the enchantment that caused Ashley’s discomfort and not the torture. So, that didn’t really count as a lie, right?

Ashley tried her best to wade through the fog in her mind, but to little success. All she could remember was an uncomfortable haze of emotions. Something very wrong happened, something that she couldn’t fight, something that she couldn’t remember. A deep dread cradled itself at the bottom of her stomach. Her agency was violated in a way she didn’t even realise was possible. She guessed it had turned out okay, but somehow that was little comfort.

Rena saw the fear and discomfort crystalising behind Ashley’s eyes. Good. She needed to be a little scared to accept what would come next, “Obviously however we cannot be having you getting enchanted and whisked away by every other fae creature that stumbles across you. I am certain you can agree with this.”

“Yeah, I can definitely agree with that.” Ashley looked to Rena, eager for whatever solution she had, “So, do you have some magical enchantment that can protect me, something along those lines?”

“No, not exactly. But I do have a bit of a half-solution of sorts, should you hear me out.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Alright, just promise, you will consider it seriously.” Rena said, hand in her pack, nervously fiddling with something.

“Yeah, of course?” Ashley was a little perturbed at how coy Rena was being. When she withdrew a collar and leash from her bag however, her coyness made a little more sense, “Rena, I—” Ashley stuttered, more than a little flustered, “how is this supposed to help me?”

“By wearing it you will not be able to so easily be lured away. Please, consider it. You need only wear it when we are out and about, okay?” She pleaded, her voice as gentle as could be.

Ashley was speechless. Sure she had been collared back when she was first captured, but this was different, she’d be actively letting her do it. She still remembered how demeaning it felt, being dragged around like some puppy by her. How much worse would it feel knowing she actively asked for it? But even so, Rena was right from a practical standpoint. Outside of finding some magical solution, this was the simplest solution to the problem they were faced with.

But when she thought back to last night, she knew she never wanted that to happen to her again. She couldn’t remember much of anything but the fear and panic of it all. If avoiding that, and remaining in control of herself, meant a little embarrassment. Then fuck it, she’d wear the collar.

“I cannot for the life of me believe I am agreeing to this, but okay.”

Rena smiled a little too brightly as she brought the collar around Ashley’s neck. She took a couple steps back, the leash held slack in her hand. She couldn’t help but notice how good Ashley looked in a collar, how right it seemed for her to be wearing it. With Ashley's leash in her hand, she wouldn’t need to worry about her leaving now, and wouldn't need to worry about being alone again.